diff options
Diffstat (limited to '43445-h/43445-h.html')
| -rw-r--r-- | 43445-h/43445-h.html | 7781 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 7781 deletions
diff --git a/43445-h/43445-h.html b/43445-h/43445-h.html deleted file mode 100644 index 6429d8f..0000000 --- a/43445-h/43445-h.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7781 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version='1.0' encoding='utf-8'?> -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC '-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN' 'http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd'> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> -<meta name="generator" content="Docutils 0.8.1: http://docutils.sourceforge.net/" /> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg common docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles common to HTML and EPUB. Put styles -that are specific to HTML and EPUB into their relative stylesheets. - -:Author: Marcello Perathoner (webmaster@gutenberg.org) -:Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - -This stylesheet is based on: - - :Author: David Goodger (goodger@python.org) - :Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - - Default cascading style sheet for the HTML output of Docutils. - -*/ - -/* ADE 1.7.2 chokes on !important and throws all css out. */ - -/* FONTS */ - -.italics { font-style: italic } -.no-italics { font-style: normal } - -.bold { font-weight: bold } -.no-bold { font-weight: normal } - -.small-caps { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.gesperrt { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.antiqua { font-style: italic } /* what else can we do ? */ -.monospaced { font-family: monospace } - -.smaller { font-size: smaller } -.larger { font-size: larger } - -.xx-small { font-size: xx-small } -.x-small { font-size: x-small } -.small { font-size: small } -.medium { font-size: medium } -.large { font-size: large } -.x-large { font-size: x-large } -.xx-large { font-size: xx-large } - -.text-transform-uppercase { text-transform: uppercase } -.text-transform-lowercase { text-transform: lowercase } -.text-transform-none { text-transform: none } - -.red { color: red } -.green { color: green } -.blue { color: blue } -.yellow { color: yellow } -.white { color: white } -.gray { color: gray } -.black { color: black } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.left { text-align: left } -.justify { text-align: justify } -.center { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.centerleft { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.right { text-align: right; text-indent: 0 } - -/* LINE HEIGHT */ - -body { line-height: 1.5 } -p { margin: 0; - text-indent: 2em } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.title, .subtitle { page-break-after: avoid } - -.container, .title, .subtitle, #pg-header - { page-break-inside: avoid } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { text-align: justify } - -p.pfirst, p.noindent { - text-indent: 0 -} - -.boxed { border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -.topic, .note { margin: 5% 0; border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -div.section { clear: both } - -div.line-block { margin: 1.5em 0 } /* same leading as p */ -div.line-block.inner { margin: 0 0 0 10% } -div.line { margin-left: 20%; text-indent: -20%; } -.line-block.noindent div.line { margin-left: 0; text-indent: 0; } - -hr.docutils { margin: 1.5em 40%; border: none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; } -div.transition { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.vfill, .vspace { border: 0px solid white } - -.title { margin: 1.5em 0 } -.title.with-subtitle { margin-bottom: 0 } -.subtitle { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -/* header font style */ -/* http://dev.w3.org/csswg/css3-fonts/#propdef-font-size */ - -h1.title { font-size: 200%; } /* for book title only */ -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-1 { font-size: 150%; margin-top: 4.5em; margin-bottom: 2em } -h3.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2.25em; margin-bottom: 1.25em } -h4.title, p.subtitle.level-3 { font-size: 100%; margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; font-weight: bold; } -h5.title, p.subtitle.level-4 { font-size: 89%; margin-top: 1.87em; margin-bottom: 1.69em; font-style: italic; } -h6.title, p.subtitle.level-5 { font-size: 60%; margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 2.5em } - -/* title page */ - -h1.title, p.subtitle.level-1, -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { text-align: center } - -#pg-header, -h1.document-title { margin: 10% 0 5% 0 } -p.document-subtitle { margin: 0 0 5% 0 } - -/* PG header and footer */ -#pg-machine-header { } -#pg-produced-by { } - -li.toc-entry { list-style-type: none } -ul.open li, ol.open li { margin-bottom: 1.5em } - -.attribution { margin-top: 1.5em } - -.example-rendered { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted red; padding: 1em; background-color: #ffd } -.literal-block.example-source { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted blue; padding: 1em; background-color: #eef } - -/* DROPCAPS */ - -/* BLOCKQUOTES */ - -blockquote { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -blockquote.epigraph { } - -blockquote.highlights { } - -div.local-contents { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -div.abstract { margin: 3em 10% } -div.image { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.caption { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.legend { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.hidden { display: none } - -.invisible { visibility: hidden; color: white } /* white: mozilla print bug */ - -a.toc-backref { - text-decoration: none ; - color: black } - -dl.docutils dd { - margin-bottom: 0.5em } - -div.figure { margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em } - -img { max-width: 100% } - -div.footer, div.header { - clear: both; - font-size: smaller } - -div.sidebar { - margin: 0 0 0.5em 1em ; - border: medium outset ; - padding: 1em ; - background-color: #ffffee ; - width: 40% ; - float: right ; - clear: right } - -div.sidebar p.rubric { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-size: medium } - -ol.simple, ul.simple { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -ol.toc-list, ul.toc-list { padding-left: 0 } -ol ol.toc-list, ul ul.toc-list { padding-left: 5% } - -ol.arabic { - list-style: decimal } - -ol.loweralpha { - list-style: lower-alpha } - -ol.upperalpha { - list-style: upper-alpha } - -ol.lowerroman { - list-style: lower-roman } - -ol.upperroman { - list-style: upper-roman } - -p.credits { - font-style: italic ; - font-size: smaller } - -p.label { - white-space: nowrap } - -p.rubric { - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger ; - color: maroon ; - text-align: center } - -p.sidebar-title { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger } - -p.sidebar-subtitle { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -p.topic-title, p.admonition-title { - font-weight: bold } - -pre.address { - margin-bottom: 0 ; - margin-top: 0 ; - font: inherit } - -.literal-block, .doctest-block { - margin-left: 2em ; - margin-right: 2em; } - -span.classifier { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-style: oblique } - -span.classifier-delimiter { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -span.interpreted { - font-family: sans-serif } - -span.option { - white-space: nowrap } - -span.pre { - white-space: pre } - -span.problematic { - color: red } - -span.section-subtitle { - /* font-size relative to parent (h1..h6 element) */ - font-size: 100% } - -table { margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; border-spacing: 0 } -table.align-left, table.align-right { margin-top: 0 } - -table.table { border-collapse: collapse; } - -table.table.hrules-table thead { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 0 } -table.table.hrules-table tbody { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows tr { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 0 0 1px } -table.table.hrules-rows tr.last { border-width: 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows td, -table.table.hrules-rows th { padding: 1ex 1em; vertical-align: middle } - -table.table tr { border-width: 0 } -table.table td, -table.table th { padding: 0.5ex 1em } -table.table tr.first td { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last td { padding-bottom: 1ex } -table.table tr.first th { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last th { padding-bottom: 1ex } - - -table.citation { - border-left: solid 1px gray; - margin-left: 1px } - -table.docinfo { - margin: 3em 4em } - -table.docutils { } - -div.footnote-group { margin: 1em 0 } -table.footnote td.label { width: 2em; text-align: right; padding-left: 0 } - -table.docutils td, table.docutils th, -table.docinfo td, table.docinfo th { - padding: 0 0.5em; - vertical-align: top } - -table.docutils th.field-name, table.docinfo th.docinfo-name { - font-weight: bold ; - text-align: left ; - white-space: nowrap ; - padding-left: 0 } - -/* used to remove borders from tables and images */ -.borderless, table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - border: 0 } - -table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - /* Override padding for "table.docutils td" with "!important". - The right padding separates the table cells. */ - padding: 0 0.5em 0 0 } /* FIXME: was !important */ - -h1 tt.docutils, h2 tt.docutils, h3 tt.docutils, -h4 tt.docutils, h5 tt.docutils, h6 tt.docutils { - font-size: 100% } - -ul.auto-toc { - list-style-type: none } -</style> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg HTML docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles specific to HTML. -*/ - -/* FONTS */ - -/* em { font-style: normal } -strong { font-weight: normal } */ - -.small-caps { font-variant: small-caps } -.gesperrt { letter-spacing: 0.1em } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.align-left { clear: left; - float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>WHITE HEATHER (VOL. II)</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="White Heather (Volume II of 3)" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="William Black" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1885" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="43445" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2013-08-11" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="White Heather (Volume II of 3) A Novel" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="White Heather (Volume II of 3) A Novel" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="heather2.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2013-08-11T23:05:02.640167+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43445" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="William Black" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2013-08-11" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a7 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="white-heather-vol-ii"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">WHITE HEATHER (VOL. II)</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: White Heather (Volume II of 3) -<br /> A Novel -<br /> -<br />Author: William Black -<br /> -<br />Release Date: August 11, 2013 [EBook #43445] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>WHITE HEATHER (VOLUME II OF 3)</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">WHITE HEATHER</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">A Novel</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">WILLIAM BLACK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">AUTHOR OF 'MACLEOD OF DARE,' -<br />'JUDITH SHAKESPEARE,' ETC.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">IN THREE VOLUMES</em></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">VOL. II.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">London -<br />MACMILLAN AND CO. -<br />1885</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics small">The right of translation is reserved.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Printed by R. & R. CLARK, Edinburgh.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS OF VOL. II.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER I.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-further-discovery">A FURTHER DISCOVERY</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER II.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#confessions">CONFESSIONS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER III.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#hesitations">HESITATIONS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER IV.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#among-the-untrodden-ways">'AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS'</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER V.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-lesson-in-fly-fishing">A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER VI.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#poeta-non-fit">POETA ... NON FIT</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER VII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-last-day-on-the-loch">A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER VIII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-parting">THE PARTING</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER IX.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#southwards">SOUTHWARDS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER X.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#gray-days">GRAY DAYS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XI.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#kate">KATE</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-social-evening">A SOCIAL EVENING</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XIII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#inducements">INDUCEMENTS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XIV.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#entanglements">ENTANGLEMENTS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XV.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#campsie-glen">CAMPSIE GLEN</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XVI.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-downward-way">THE DOWNWARD WAY</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-further-discovery"><span class="bold x-large">WHITE HEATHER.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A FURTHER DISCOVERY.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It can hardly be wondered at that these suddenly presented -ambitious projects—this call to be up and doing, and getting -forward in the general race of the world—should add a -new interest and fascination, in his eyes, to the society of -the American father and daughter who had wandered into -these distant wilds. And perhaps, after all, he had been -merely wasting his time and throwing away his life? -That solitary, contented, healthy and happy existence was a -mistake—an idle dream—an anachronism, even? The -common way of the world was right; and that, as he heard -of it in the echoes brought by these strangers from without, -was all a pushing and striving and making the most of -opportunities, until the end was reached—independence -and ease and wealth; the power of choosing this or that -continent for a residence; the radiant happiness and glow -of success. And then it all seemed so easy and practicable -when he heard these two talking about their friends and the -fortunes they had made; and it seemed still more easy—and -a far more desirable and beautiful thing—when it was -Miss Carry herself who was speaking, she seated alone in -the stern of the boat, her eyes—that had a kind of surface -darkness and softness, like blackberries wet with -rain—helping out her speech, and betraying an open friendliness, -and even conferring a charm on her descriptions of that -far-off pork-producing city of the west. Mr. Hodson, as he -sate upright in his easy-chair before the fire, spoke slowly -and sententiously, and without any visible enthusiasm; -Miss Carry, in the stern of the coble, her face all lit up with -the blowing winds and the sunlight, talked with far greater -vivacity, and was obviously deeply interested in the future -of her companion. And it had come to this now, that, -as she sate opposite him, he quite naturally and habitually -regarded her eyes as supplementing her meaning; he no -longer rather shrank from the directness of her look; he -no longer wished that she would sit the other way, and attend -to the tops of the salmon-rods. As for their speech together, -the exceeding frankness of it and lack of conventionality -arose from one or two causes, but no doubt partly from -this—that during their various adventures on the loch there -was no time for the observance of studied forms. It was -'Do this' and 'Do that,' on his part—sometimes with even -a sharp word of monition; and with her it was 'Will that -do, Ronald?' or again,—when she was standing up in fell -encounter with her unseen enemy, both hands engaged -with the rod—'Ronald, tie my cap down, or the wind will -blow it away—No, no, the other strings—underneath!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed, on the morning after the evening on which -they had been urging him to make a career for himself, -there was not much chance of any calm discussion of that -subject. The proceedings of the day opened in a remarkably -lively manner. For one thing the wind had backed -still farther during the night, and was now blowing briskly -from the north, bringing with it from time to time smart -snow showers that blackened the heavens and earth for a -few minutes and then sped on, leaving the peaks and -shoulders and even the lower spurs of the hills all a -gleaming white in the wintry sunlight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Salmon-fishing in a snow-storm—well, I declare!' said -she, as she stood on the shore of the lake, watching him -putting the rods together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The very best time,' said he, in his positive way (for he -had assumed a kind of authority over her, whereas with -Meenie he was always reserved and distant and timidly -gentle). 'None better. I would just like to find a foot of -snow on the ground, right down to the edge of the loch; -and the flakes falling so thick ye couldna see a dozen yards -ahead of ye.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Do you know where I should be then?' she retorted. -'I should be warming my toes in front of Mrs. Murray's -peat-fire.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not one bit,' said he, just as positively. 'If ye heard -the salmon were taking, ye'd be down here fast enough, I'm -thinking.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And presently it seemed as if this early start of theirs -was to be rewarded, for scarcely were both lines out—and -Miss Carry was just settling herself down for a little quiet -talk, and was pulling the collar of her ulster higher over her -ears (for the wind was somewhat cold)—when a sudden -tugging and straining at one of the rods, followed by a -sharp scream of the reel, upset all these little plans. She -made a dash at the rod and raised it quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's a good fish—that's a good fish!' Ronald cried, -with his mouth set hard. 'Now let's see if we canna hold -on to this one. Let him go, lassie!—I beg your pardon—let -him go—let him go—that's right—a clean fish, and a -beauty!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beauty or no, the salmon had no hesitation about showing -himself, at least; for now he began to lash the surface -of the water, some fifty yards away, not springing into the -air, but merely beating the waves with head and body and -tail to get rid of this unholy thing that he had pursued and -gripped. Then down he went with a mighty plunge—the -reel whirring out its shrill cry, and Miss Carry's gloves -suffering in consequence—and there he sulked; so that -they backed the boat again, and again she got in some of -the line. What was the sound that came across the lake -to them, in the face of the northerly wind?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They're waving a handkerchief to ye, Miss Hodson,' -said he, 'from the other boat.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, bother,' said she (for the strain of a heavy salmon -and forty yards of line was something on her arms), 'here, -take the handkerchief from this breast-pocket, and wave it -back to them—stand up beside me—they won't see the -difference——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did as he was bid; apparently she paid little -attention; she seemed wholly bent on getting the fish. And -clearly the salmon had somewhat exhausted himself with -his first escapades; he now lay deep down, not stirring an -inch; so that she got in her line until there was not more -than twenty yards out: then they waited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And meanwhile this strange thing that was overtaking -them? The bright, windy, changeable day—with its -gleaming snow-slopes and sunlit straths and woods darkened by -passing shadows—seemed to be slowly receding from them, -and around them came a kind of hushed and stealthy -gloom. And then the wind stirred again; the gusts came -sharper and colder; here and there a wet particle stung the -cheek or the back of the hand. Of course, she was in a -death-struggle with a salmon; she could not heed. And -presently the gathering blackness all around seemed to -break into a soft bewilderment of snow; large, soft, woolly -flakes came driving along before the wind; all the world -was shut out from them; they could see nothing but a -short space of livid dark water, and feel nothing but this -choking silent thing in the air. And then again, with a -magical rapidity, the heavens and the earth seemed to open -above and around them; the clouds swept on; there was -a great deep of dazzling blue suddenly revealed in the sky -overhead; and all the dancing waters of the lake, from the -boat to the farthest shores, were one flashing and lapping -mass of keen, pure cobalt, absolutely bewildering to the -eyes. The joy of that radiant colour, after the mystery and -the darkness! And then the sunlight broke out; and -Clebrig had a touch of gold along his mighty shoulders; -and Ben Loyal's snow-slopes were white against the brilliant -blue; and it seemed as if the fairest of soft summer skies -were shining over Bonnie Strath-Naver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To her it meant that she could see a little more clearly. -She shook the snowflakes from her hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald, you are sure it is not a kelt?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Indeed I am. There's nothing of the kelt about that one.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If it is,' said she, 'I'll go home and tell my ma.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was clearly feeling a little more secure about this -one. And she did capture the creature in the end, though -it was after a long and arduous struggle. For he was a -strong fish—fresh run up from the sea, and heavy for his -size; and again and again, and a dozen times repeated, -he would make rushes away from the boat just as they -thought he was finally showing the white feather. It was -the toughest fight she had had; but practice was hardening -her muscles a little; and she had acquired a little dexterity -in altering her position and shifting the strain. By this -time the other boat was coming round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Stick to him, Carry!' her father cried. 'No Secesh -tactics allowed: hold on to him!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next moment Ronald had settled all that by a -smart scoop of the clip; and there in the bottom of the -boat lay a small-headed deep-shouldered fish of just over -sixteen pounds—Ronald pinning him down to get the -minnow out of his jaw, and the lad Johnnie grinning all -over his ruddy face with delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Carry looked on in a very calm and business-like -fashion; though in reality her heart was beating quickly—with -gladness and exultation. And then, with the same -business-like calmness, she took from the deep pocket of -her ulster a flask that she had borrowed from Mr. Murray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald,' said she, 'you must drink to our good luck.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She handed him the flask. She appeared to be quite to -the manner born now. You would not have imagined -that her heart was beating so quickly, or her hands just a -little bit nervous and shaky after that prolonged excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Good luck seemed to follow the Duke's boat this morning. -Within the next three quarters of an hour they had got hold -of another salmon—just over ten pounds. And it was -barely lunch time when they had succeeded in landing a -third—this time a remarkably handsome fish of fifteen -pounds. She now thought she had done enough. She -resumed her seat contentedly; there was no elation visible -on her face. But she absolutely forbade the putting out of -the lines again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Look here, Ronald,' she said seriously. 'What do you -think I came here for? Do you think I came here to -leave my bones in a foreign land? I am just about dead -now. My arms are not made of steel. We can go ashore, -and get lunch unpacked; the other boat will follow quickly -enough. I tell you my arms and wrists have just had about -enough for one morning.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And a very snug and merry little luncheon-party they -made there—down by the side of the lapping water, and -under the shelter of a wood of young birch-trees. For the -other boat had brought ashore two salmon; so that the -five handsome fish, laid side by side on a broad slab of -rock, made an excellent show. Miss Carry said nothing -about her arms aching; but she did not seem to be in as -great a hurry as the others to set to work again. No; she -enjoyed the rest; and, observing that Ronald had finished -his lunch, she called to him, under the pretext of wanting -to know something about sending the fish south. This led -on to other things; the three of them chatting together -contentedly enough, and Ronald even making bold enough to -light his pipe. A very friendly little group this was—away -by themselves there in these wintry solitudes—with the wide -blue waters of the lake in front of them, and the snows of -Clebrig white against the sky. And if he were to go away -from these familiar scenes, might he not come back again -in the after days? And with the splendid power of remaining -or going, just as he pleased?—just as these friendly -folk could, who spoke so lightly of choosing this or that -quarter of the globe for their temporary habitation? Yes, -there were many things that money could do: these two -strangers, now, could linger here at Inver-Mudal just as -long as the salmon-fishing continued to amuse them; or -they could cross over to Paris, and see the wonders there; -or they could go away back to the great cities and harbours -and lakes and huge hotels that they spoke so much about. -He listened with intensest interest, and with a keen -imagination. And was this part of the shore around them—with -its rocks and brushwood and clear water—really like the -shores of Lake George, where she was so afraid of -rattlesnakes? She said she would send him some photographs -of Lake Michigan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then in the boat in the afternoon she quite innocently -remarked that she wished he was going back home with -them; for that he would find the voyage across the Atlantic -so amusing. She described the people coming out to say -good-bye at Liverpool; and the throwing of knives and -pencil-cases and what not as farewell gifts from the steamer -to the tender, and </span><em class="italics">vice versâ</em><span>; she described the scamper -round Queenstown and the waiting for the mails; then the -long days on the wide ocean, with all the various occupations, -and the concerts in the evening, and the raffles in -the smoking-room (this from hearsay); then the crowding -on deck for the first glimpse of the American coast-line; -and the gliding over the shallows of Sandy Hook; and the -friends who would come steaming down the Bay to wave -handkerchiefs and welcome them home. She seemed to -regard it as a quite natural and simple thing that he should -be of this party; and that, after landing, her father should -take him about and 'see him through,' as it were; and if -her fancy failed to carry out these forecasts, and to picture -him walking along Dearborn Avenue or driving out with -them to Washington Park, it was that once or twice ere -now she had somehow arrived at the notion that Ronald -Strang and Chicago would prove to be incongruous. Or -was it some instinctive feeling that, however natural and -fitting their friendship might be in this remote little place -in the Highlands, it might give rise to awkwardness over -there? Anyhow, that could not prevent her father from -seeing that Ronald had ample introductions and guidance -when he landed at New York; and was not that the proper -sphere for one of his years and courage and abilities?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they got ashore at the end of the day it was found -that each boat had got two more salmon, so that there was -a display of nine big fish on the grass there in the gathering -dusk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And to think that I should live to catch five salmon in -one day,' said Miss Carry, as she contemplated her share -of the spoil. 'Well, no one will believe it; for they're just -real mean people at home; and they won't allow that -anything's happened to you in Europe unless you have -something to show for it. I suppose Ronald would give me a -written guarantee. Anyway, I am going to take that big -one along to the Doctor—it will be a good introduction, -won't it, pappa?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But a curious thing happened about that same salmon. -When they got to the inn the fish were laid out on the -stone flags of the dairy—the coolest and safest place for -them in the house; and Miss Carry, who had come along -to see them, when she wanted anything done, naturally -turned to Ronald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald,' said she, 'I want to give that big one to -Mrs. Douglas, and I am going along now to the cottage. Will -you carry it for me?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He said something about getting a piece of string and -left. A couple of minutes thereafter the lad Johnnie -appeared, with a stout bit of cord in his hand; and he, -having affixed that to the head and the tail of the salmon, -caught it up, and stood in readiness. She seemed surprised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Where is Ronald?' said she—for he was always at her -bidding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He asked me to carry the fish to the Doctor's house, -mem,' said the lad. 'Will I go now?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Moreover, this salmon was accidentally responsible for -a still further discovery. When Miss Carry went along to -call on the Douglases, little Maggie was with her friend -Meenie; and they all of them had tea together; and when -the little Maggie considered it fitting she should go home, -Miss Carry said she would accompany her—for it was now -quite dark. And they had a good deal of talk by the way, -partly about schooling and accomplishments, but much -more largely about Ronald, who was the one person in all -the world in the eyes of his sister. And if Maggie was -ready with her information, this pretty young lady was -equally interested in receiving it, and also in making -inquiries. And thus it came about that Miss Carry now for -the first time learned that Ronald was in the habit of -writing poems, verses, and things of that kind; and that they -were greatly thought of by those who had seen them or to -whom he had sent them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why, I might have guessed as much,' she said to -herself, as she walked on alone to the inn—though what -there was in Ronald's appearance to suggest that he was -a writer of rhymes it might have puzzled any one to determine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this was a notable discovery; and it set her quick -and fertile brain working in a hundred different ways; but -mostly she bethought her of one John C. Huysen and of -a certain newspaper-office on Fifth Avenue, Chicago, 111.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, there,' she said to herself, as the result of these -rapid cogitations, 'if Jack Huysen's good for anything—if -he wants to say he has done me a service—if he wants to -show he has the spirit of a man in him—well, </span><em class="italics">now's his -chance</em><span>.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="confessions"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">CONFESSIONS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was but another instance of the curiously magnetic -influence of this man's personality that she instantly and -unhesitatingly assumed that what he wrote must be of value. -Now every second human being, as well she knew, writes -verses at one period of his life, and these are mostly trash; -and remain discreetly hidden, or are mercifully burned. -But what Ronald wrote, she was already certain, must be -characteristic of himself, and have interest and definite -worth; and what better could she do than get hold of some -of these things, and have them introduced to the public, -perhaps with some little preliminary encomium written by -a friendly hand? She had heard from the little Maggie -that Ronald had never sent any of his writings to the -newspapers; might not this be a service? She could not offer -him a sovereign because he happened to be in the boat -when she caught her first salmon; but fame—the appeal -to the wide-reading public—the glory of print? Nay, -might they not be of some commercial value also? She -knew but little of the customs of the Chicago journals, but -she guessed that a roundabout hint conveyed to Mr. John -C. Huysen would not be without effect. And what were -the subjects, she asked herself, that Ronald wrote about? -In praise of deerstalking, for one thing, and mountain-climbing, -and out-of-door life, she felt assured: you could -see it in his gait and in his look; you could hear it in his -laugh and his singing as he went along the road. Politics, -perhaps—if sarcastic verses were in his way; for there was -a sharp savour running through his talk; and he took -abundant interest in public affairs. Or perhaps he would -be for recording the charms of some rustic maiden—some -'Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane'—some blue-eyed and -rather silent and uninteresting young person, living alone -in a glen, and tending cattle or hanging out things to dry -on a hedge? Well, even a song would be something. The -</span><em class="italics">Chicago Citizen</em><span> might not pay very much for it, but the -great and generous public might take kindly to it; and if -Jack Huysen did not say something friendly about it, then -she would know the reason why.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the stiffest struggle Miss Carry ever had with any -salmon was mere child's play compared with the fight she -had with Ronald himself over this matter. At first he was -exceedingly angry that she should have been told; but -then he laughed, and said to her that there were plenty of -folk in Scotland as elsewhere who wrote idle verses, but -that they had the common sense to say nothing about it. -If she wanted a memento of her stay in the Highlands to -take back with her to America, he would give her her choice -of the deer-skins he had in the shed; that would be -appropriate, and she was welcome to the best of them; but as -for scribblings and nonsense of that kind—no, no. On the -other hand she was just as persistent, and treated him to -a little gentle raillery, wondering that he had not yet -outgrown the years of shyness; and finally, when everything -else had failed, putting her request as a grace and courtesy -to be granted to an American stranger. This was hardly -fair; but she was very anxious about the matter; and she -knew that her demand was founded far less on mere -curiosity than on an honest desire to do him a service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course he yielded; and a terrible time he had of it -the night he set about selecting something to show to her. -For how could she understand the circumstances in which -these random things were written—these idle fancies of a -summer morning—these careless love songs—these rhymed -epistles in which the practical common sense and shrewd -advice were much more conspicuous than any graces of art? -And then again so many of them were about Meenie; and -these were forbidden; the praise of Meenie—even when it -was the birds and the roses and the foxgloves and the summer -rills that sang of her—was not for alien eyes. But at last -he lit upon some verses supposed to convey the sentiments -of certain exiles met together on New Year's night in Nova -Scotia; and he thought it was a simple kind of thing; at -all events it would get him out of a grievous difficulty. -So—for the lines had been written many a day ago, and came -upon him now with a new aspect—he altered a phrase here -or there, by way of passing the time; and finally he made -a fair copy. The next morning, being a Sunday, he espied -Miss Carry walking down towards the river; and he overtook -her and gave her this little piece to redeem his pledge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's not worth much,' said he, 'but you'll understand -what it is about. Burn it when you've read it—that's all I -ask of ye——' Then on he went, glad not to be -cross-questioned, the faithful Harry trotting at his heels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So she sat down on the stone parapet of the little -bridge—on this hushed, still, shining morning that was -quite summer-like in its calm—and opened the paper with -not a little curiosity. And well enough she understood -the meaning of the little piece: she knew that the -Mackays[#] used to live about here; and was not Strath-Naver -but a few miles off; and this the very Mudal river -running underneath the bridge on which she was sitting? -But here are the verses she read—and he had entitled -them</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Pronounced </span><em class="italics small">Mackise</em><span class="small">, with the accent on the second syllable.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="italics">ACROSS THE SEA.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">In Nova Scotia's clime they've met</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To keep the New Year's night;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The merry lads and lasses crowd</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Around the blazing light.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But father and mother sit withdrawn</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To let their fancies flee</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To the old, old time, and the old, old home</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That's far across the sea.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And what strange sights and scenes are these</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That sadden their shaded eyes?</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Is it only thus they can see again</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The land of the Mackays?</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O there the red-deer roam at will:</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the grouse whirr on the wing;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the curlew call, and the ptarmigan</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Drink at the mountain spring;</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the hares lie snug on the hillside:</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the lusty blackcock crows;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But the river the children used to love</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Through an empty valley flows.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Do they see again a young lad wait</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To shelter with his plaid,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">When she steals to him in the gathering dusk.</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">His gentle Highland maid?</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Do they hear the pipes at the weddings;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Or the low sad funeral wail</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">As the boat goes out to the island,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the pibroch tells its tale?</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O fair is Naver's strath, and fair</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The strath that Mudal laves;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And dear the haunts of our childhood,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And dear the old folks' graves;</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the parting from one's native land</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Is a sorrow hard to dree:</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">God's forgiveness to them that sent us</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">So far across the sea!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And is bonnie Strath-Naver shining,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">As it shone in the bygone years?—</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">As it shines for us now—ay, ever—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Though our eyes are blind with tears.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Well, her own eyes were moist—though that was but -for a moment; for when she proceeded to walk slowly and -meditatively back to the inn, her mind was busy with many -things; and she began to think that she had not got any -way near to the understanding of this man, whom she had -treated in so familiar a fashion, as boatman, and -companion, and gillie—almost as valet. What lay behind -those eyes of his, that glowed with so strange a light at -times, and seemed capable of reading her through and -through, only that the slightly tremulous eyelids came -down and veiled them, or that he turned away his head? -And why this strain of pathos in a nature that seemed -essentially joyous and glad and careless? Not only that, -but in the several discussions with her father—occasionally -becoming rather warm, indeed—Ronald had been invariably -on the side of the landlord, as was naturally to be expected. -He had insisted that the great bulk of the land given over -to deer was of no possible use to any other living creature; -he had maintained the right of the landlord to clear any -portion of his property of sheep and forest it, if by so doing -he could gain an increase of rental; he had even maintained -the right of the landlord to eject non-paying tenants from -holdings clearly not capable of supporting the ever-increasing -families; and so forth. But was his feeling, after all, -with the people—he himself being one of the people? -His stout championship of the claims and privileges of -Lord Ailine—that was not incompatible with a deeper -sense of the cruelty of driving the poor people away from -the land of their birth and the home of their childhood? -His natural sentiment as a man was not to be overborne -by the fact that he was officially a dependant on Lord -Ailine? These and a good many other curious problems -concerning him—and concerning his possible future—occupied -her until she had got back to the snug little -parlour; and there, as she found her father seated in front -of the blazing fire, and engaged in getting through the -mighty pile of newspapers and illustrated journals and -magazines that had come by the previous day's mail, she -thought she might as well sit down and write a long letter to -her bosom friend in Chicago, through whose intermediation -these verses might discreetly be brought to the notice of -Mr. Huysen. She had reasons for not asking any favour directly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'DEAREST EM,' she wrote—after having studied a long -while as to how she should begin—'would it surprise you -to know that I have at last found my </span><em class="italics">fate</em><span> in the very -handsome person of a Scotch gamekeeper? Well, it aint -so; don't break the furniture; but the fact is my poor -brain has been wool-gathering a little in this land of wild -storms and legends and romantic ballads; and to-morrow I -am fleeing away to Paris—the region of clear atmosphere, -and reasonable people, and cynicism; and I hope to have -any lingering cobwebs of romance completely blown out of -my head. Not that I would call it romance, </span><em class="italics">even if it -were to happen;</em><span> I should call it merely the plain result of -my father's theories. You know he is always preaching -that all men are born equal; which isn't true anyhow; he -would get a little nearer the truth if he were to say that -all men are born equal except hotel clerks, who are of a -superior race; but wouldn't it be a joke if I were to take -him at his word, and ask him how he would like a gamekeeper -as his son-in-law? But you need not be afraid, my -dear Em; this chipmunk has still got a little of her senses -left; and I may say in the words of the poet—</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"There is not in this wide world a valet so sweet"—</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>no, nor any Claude Melnotte of a gardener, nor any -handsome coachman or groom, who could induce me to -run away with him. It would be "playing it too low down -on pa," as you used to say; besides, one knows how these -things always end. Another besides; how do I know that -he would marry me, even if I asked him?—and I </span><em class="italics">should</em><span> -have to ask him, for he would never ask me. Now, Em, -if you don't burn this letter the moment you have read it, -I will murder you, as sure as you are alive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Besides, it is a shame. He is a real good fellow; and -no such nonsense has got into his head, I know. I know -it, because I tried him twice for fun; I got him to tie my -cap under my chin; and I made him take my pocket-handkerchief -out of my breast-pocket when I was fighting -a salmon (I caught </span><em class="italics">five in one day</em><span>—monsters!), and do you -think the bashful young gentleman was embarrassed and -showed trembling fingers? Not a bit; I think he thought -me rather a nuisance—in the polite phraseology of the -English people. But I wish I could tell you about him, -really. It's all very well to say he is very handsome and -hardy-looking and weather-tanned; but how can I describe -to you how respectful his manner is, and yet always keeping -his own self-respect, and he won't quarrel with me—he -only laughs when I have been talking absolute folly—though -papa and he have rare fights, for he has very -positive opinions, and sticks to his guns, I can tell you. -But the astonishing thing is his education; he has been -nowhere, but seems to know everything; he seems to be -quite content to be a gamekeeper, though his brother took -his degree at college and is now in the Scotch Church. I -tell you he makes me feel pretty small at times. The -other night papa and I went along to his cottage after -dinner, and found him reading Gibbon's </span><em class="italics">Decline and Fall -of the Roman Empire</em><span>—lent him by his brother, it -appeared. I borrowed the first volume—but, oh, squawks! it -is a good deal too stiff work for the likes of me. And -then there is never the least pretence or show, but all the -other way; he will talk to you as long as you like about -his deerstalking and about what he has seen his dogs do; -but never a word about books or writing—unless you -happen to have found out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now I'm coming to business. I have never seen any -writing of his until this morning, when, after long goading, -he showed me a little poem which I will copy out and -enclose in this letter when I have finished. Now, darling -Em, I want you to do me a real kindness; the first time -you see Jack Huysen—I don't want to ask the favour of him -direct—will you ask him to print it in the </span><em class="italics">Citizen</em><span>, and to -say something nice about it? I don't want any patronage: -understand—I mean let Jack Huysen understand—that -Ronald Strang is a particular </span><em class="italics">friend</em><span> of both my father and -myself; and that I am sending you this without his authority, -but merely to give him a little pleasant surprise, perhaps, -when he sees it in print; and perhaps to tempt him to -give us some more. I should like him to print a volume,—for -he is really far above his present station, and it is -absurd he should not take his </span><em class="italics">place</em><span>,—and if he did that I -know of a young party who would buy 500 copies even if -she were to go back home without a single Paris bonnet. -Tell Jack Huysen there is to be </span><em class="italics">no patronage</em><span>, mind; there -is to be nothing about the peasant poet, or anything like -that; for this man is a </span><em class="italics">gentleman</em><span>, if I know anything about -it; and I won't have him trotted out as a phenomenon—to -be discussed by the dudes who smoke cigarettes in -Lincoln Park. If you could only talk to him for ten -minutes it would be better than fifty letters, but I suppose -there are </span><em class="italics">attractions nearer home</em><span> just at present. My kind -remembrances to T.T.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I forgot to say that I am quite ignorant as to whether -newspapers ever pay for poetry—I mean if a number of -pieces were sent? Or could Jack Huysen find a publisher -who would undertake a volume; my father will see he does -not lose anything by it. I really want to do something for -this Ronald, for he has been so kind and attentive to us; -and before long it may become more difficult to do so; for -of course a man of his abilities is not likely to remain as he -is; indeed, he has already formed plans for getting away -altogether from his present way of life, and whatever he -tries to do I know he will do—and easily. But if I talk -any more about him, you will be making very </span><em class="italics">very</em><span> mistaken -guesses; and I won't give you the delight of imagining even -for a moment that I have been caught at last; when the -sad event arrives there will be time enough for you to take -your cake-walk of triumph up and down the room—of -course to </span><em class="italics">Dancing in the Barn</em><span>, as in the days of old.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here followed a long and rambling chronicle of her -travels in Europe since her last letter, all of which may be -omitted; the only point to be remarked was that her very -brief experiences of Scotland took up a disproportionately -large portion of the space, and that she was minute in her -description of the incidents and excitement of salmon-fishing. -Then followed an outline of her present plans; a string of -questions; a request for an instant reply; and finally—</span></p> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><em class="italics">'With dearest love, old Em,</em></dt> -<dd><dl class="docutils first last"> -<dt class="noindent"><em class="italics">'Thine,</em></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><em class="italics">'Carry.'</em></p> -</dd> -</dl> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And then she had to copy the verses; but when she had -done that, and risen, and gone to the window for a time, -some misgiving seemed to enter her mind, for she returned -to the table, and sate down again, and wrote this postscript:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Perhaps, after all, you won't see much in this little -piece; if you were here, among the very places, and affected -by all the old stories and romantic traditions and the wild -scenery, it might be different. Since I've been to Europe -I've come to see what's the trouble about our reading -English history and literature at home; why, you can't do -it, you can't understand it, unless you have lived in an -atmosphere that is just full of poetry and romance, and -meeting people whose names tell you they belong to the -families who did great things in history centuries and -centuries ago. I can't explain it very well—not even to -myself; but I feel it; why, you can't take a single day's -drive in England without coming across a hundred things -of interest—Norman churches, and the tombs of Saxon -Kings, and old abbeys, and monasteries, and battlefields, -and, just as interesting as any, farm-houses of the sixteenth -century in their quaint old-fashioned orchards. And as for -Scotland, why, it is just steeped to the lips in poetry and -tradition; the hills and the glens have all their romantic -stories of the clans, many of them very pathetic; and you -want to see these wild and lonely places before you can -understand the legends. And in southern Scotland too—what -could any one at home make of such a simple couplet -as this—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">"The King sits in Dunfermline town,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Drinking the blude-red wine;"</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>but when you come near Dunfermline and see the hill -where Malcolm Canmore built his castle in the eleventh -century, and when you are told that it was from this very -town that Sir Patrick Spens and the Scots lords set out for -"Norroway o'er the faem," everything comes nearer to you. -In America, I remember very well, Flodden Field sounded -to us something very far away, that we couldn't take much -interest in; but if you were here just now, dear Em, and -told that a bit farther north there was a river that the Earl -of Caithness and his clan had to cross when they went to -Flodden, and that the people living there at this very day -won't go near it on the anniversary of the battle, because -on that day the ghosts of the earl and his men, all clad in -green tartan, come home again and are seen to cross the -river, wouldn't that interest you? In America we have got -nothing behind us; when you leave the day before yesterday -you don't want to go back. But here, in the most -vulgar superstitions and customs, you come upon the -strangest things. Would you believe it, less than twenty -miles from this place there is a little lake that is supposed -to cure the most desperate diseases—diseases that the -doctors have given up; and the poor people meet at -midnight, on the first Monday after the change of the moon, -and then they throw a piece of money into the lake, and go -in and dip themselves three times, and then they must get -home before sunrise. Perhaps it is very absurd, but they -belong to that same imaginative race of people who have -left so many weird stories and poetical legends behind them; -and what I say is that you want to come over and breathe -this atmosphere of tradition and romance, and see the -places, before you can quite understand the charm of all -that kind of literature. And perhaps you don't find much -in these verses about the poor people who have been driven -away from their native strath? Well, they don't claim to -be much. They were never meant for you to see. But -yes, I do think you will like them; and anyhow Jack -Huysen has got to like them, and treat them hospitably, -unless he is anxious to have his hair raised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Gracious me, I think I must hire a hall. I have just -read this scrawl over. Sounds rather muzzy, don't it? -But it's this poor brain of mine that has got full of -confusion and cobwebs and theories of equality, when I wasn't -attending to it. My arms had the whole day's work to -do—as they remind me at this minute; and the Cerebral -Hemispheres laid their heads, or their half-heads together, -when I was busy with the salmon; and entered into a -conspiracy against me; and began to make pictures—ghosts, -phantom earls, and romantic shepherds and peasant-poets, -and I don't know what kind of dreams of a deer -stalker walking down Wabash Avenue. But, as I said, -to-morrow I start for Paris, thank goodness; and in that -calmer atmosphere I hope to come to my senses again; -and I will send you a long account of Lily Selden's -marriage—though your last letter to me was a fraud: what do I -care about the C.M.C.A.? </span><em class="italics">This</em><span> letter, anyhow, you -must burn; I don't feel like reading it over again myself, -or perhaps I would save you the trouble; but you may -depend on it that the one I shall send you from Paris will -be quite sane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Second P.S.—Of course you must manage Jack Huysen -with a little discretion. I don't want to be drawn into it -any more than I can help; I mean, I would just hate to -write to him direct and ask him for a particular favour; -but this is a very little one, and you know him as well as -any of us. And mind you burn this letter—instantly—the -moment you have read it—for it is just full of nonsense -and wool-gathering; and </span><em class="italics">it will not occur again. Toujours -a toi</em><span>. C.H.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What have you been writing all this time?' her father -said, when she rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'A letter—to Emma Kerfoot.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It will make her stare. You don't often write long letters.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I do not,' said she, gravely regarding the envelope; -and then she added solemnly: 'But this is the record of -a chapter in my life that is now closed for ever—at least, I -hope so.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="hesitations"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">HESITATIONS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The waggonette stood at the door; Miss Carry's luggage -was put in; and her father was waiting to see her off. But -the young lady herself seemed unwilling to take the final -step; twice she went back into the inn, on some pretence -or another; and each time she came out she looked impatiently -around, as if wondering at the absence of some one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, ain't you ready yet?' her father asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I want to say good-bye to Ronald,' she said half angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, nonsense—you are not going to America. Why, -you will be back in ten days or a fortnight. See here, -Carry,' he added, 'are you sure you don't want me to go -part of the way with you?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not at all,' she said promptly. 'It is impossible for -Mary to mistake the directions I wrote to her; and I shall -find her in the Station Hotel at Inverness all right. Don't -you worry about me, pappa.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She glanced along the road again, in the direction of -the keeper's cottage; but there was no one in sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Pappa dear,' she said, in an undertone—for there were -one or two onlookers standing by—'if Ronald should -decide on giving up his place here, and trying what you -suggested, you'll have to stand by him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh yes, I'll see him through,' was the complacent -answer. 'I should take him to be the sort of man who -can look after himself; but if he wants any kind of help—well, -here I am; I won't go back on a man who is acting on -my advice. Why, if he were to come out to Chicago——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh no, not Chicago, pappa,' she said, somewhat earnestly, -'not to Chicago. I am sure he will be more at home—he -will be happier—in his own country.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked around once more; and then she stepped -into the waggonette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He might have come to see me off,' she said, a little -proudly. 'Good-bye, pappa dear—I will send you a -telegram as soon as I get to Paris.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two horses sprang forward; Miss Carry waved her -lily hand; and then set to work to make herself comfortable -with wraps and rugs, for the morning was chill. She -thought it was very unfriendly of Ronald not to have come -to say good-bye. And what was the reason of it? Of -course he could know nothing of the nonsense she had -written to her friend in Chicago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Have you not seen Ronald about anywhere?' she asked -of the driver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, mem,' answered that exceedingly shy youth, 'he -wass not about all the morning. But I heard the crack of -a gun; maybe he wass on the hill.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And presently he said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm thinking that's him along the road—it's two of his -dogs whatever.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And indeed this did turn out to be Ronald who was coming -striding along the road, with his gun over his shoulder, -a brace of setters at his heels, and something dangling from -his left hand. The driver pulled up his horses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I've brought ye two or three golden plover to take with -ye, Miss Hodson,' Ronald said—and he handed up the birds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, she was exceedingly pleased to find that he had -not neglected her, nay, that he had been especially thinking -of her and her departure. But what should she do with -these birds in a hotel?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's so kind of you,' she said, 'but really I'm afraid -they're—would you not rather give them to my father?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye must not go away empty-handed,' said he, with -good-humoured insistence; and then it swiftly occurred to -her that perhaps this was some custom of the neighbourhood; -and so she accepted the little parting gift with a -very pretty speech of thanks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He raised his cap, and was going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald,' she called, and he turned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I wish you would tell me,' she said—and there was a -little touch of colour in the pretty, pale, interesting -face—'if there is anything I could bring from London that would -help you—I mean books about chemistry—or—or—about -trees—or instruments for land-surveying—I am sure I -could get them——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed, in a doubtful kind of a way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm obliged to ye,' he said, 'but it's too soon to speak -about that. I havena made up my mind yet.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not yet?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But you will?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He said nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good-bye, then.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She held out her hand, so that he could not refuse to -take it. So they parted; and the horses' hoofs rang again -in the silence of the valley; and she sat looking after the -disappearing figure and the meekly following dogs. And -then, in the distance, she thought she could make out -some faint sound: was he singing to himself as he strode -along towards the little hamlet?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'At all events,' she said to herself, with just a touch of -pique, 'he does not seem much downhearted at my going -away.' And little indeed did she imagine that this song -he was thus carelessly and unthinkingly singing was all -about Meenie, and red and white roses, and trifles light -and joyous as the summer air. For not yet had black care -got a grip of his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this departure of Miss Carry for the south now gave -him leisure to attend to his own affairs and proper duties, -which had suffered somewhat from his attendance in the -coble; and it was not until all these were put straight -that he addressed himself to the serious consideration of -the ambitious and daring project that had been placed -before him. Hitherto it had been pretty much of an idle -speculation—a dream, in short, that looked very charming -and fascinating as the black-eyed young lady from over the -seas sate in the stern of the boat and chatted through the -idle hours. Her imagination did not stay to regard the -immediate and practical difficulties and risks; all these -seemed already surmounted; Ronald had assumed the -position to which he was entitled by his abilities and -personal character; she only wondered which part of Scotland -he would be living in when next her father and herself -visited Europe; and whether they might induce him to go -over with them for a while to the States. But when Ronald -himself, in cold blood, came to consider ways and means, -there was no such plain and easy sailing. Not that he -hesitated about cutting himself adrift from his present moorings; -he had plenty of confidence in himself, and knew that he -could always earn a living with his ten fingers, whatever -happened. Then he had between £80 and £90 lodged -in a savings bank in Inverness; and out of that he could -pay for any classes he might have to attend, or perhaps -offer a modest premium if he wished to get into a surveyor's -office for a short time. But there were so many things to -think of. What should he do about Maggie, for example? -Then Lord Ailine had always been a good master to -him: would it not seem ungrateful that he should throw -up his situation without apparent reason? And so forth, -and so forth, through cogitations long and anxious; and -many a half-hour on the hillside and many a half-hour by -the slumbering peat-fire was given to this great project; -but always there was one side of the question that he shut -out from his mind. For how could he admit to himself -that this lingering hesitation—this dread, almost, of what -lay await for him in the future—had anything to do with -the going away from Meenie, and the leaving behind him, -and perhaps for ever, the hills and streams and lonely glens -that were all steeped in the magic and witchery of her -presence? Was it not time to be done with idle fancies? -And if, in the great city—in Edinburgh or Glasgow, as the -case might be—he should fall to thinking of Ben Loyal -and Bonnie Strath-Naver, and the long, long days on -Clebrig; and Meenie coming home in the evening from -her wanderings by Mudal-Water, with a few wild-flowers, -perhaps, or a bit of white heather, but always with her -beautiful blue-gray Highland eyes so full of kindness as -she stopped for a few minutes' friendly chatting—well, that -would be a pretty picture to look back upon, all lambent -and clear in the tender colours that memory loves to -use. A silent picture, of course: there would be no -sound of the summer rills, nor the sweeter sound of -Meenie's voice; but not a sad picture; only remote and -ethereal, as if the years had come between, and made -everything distant and pale and dreamlike.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first definite thing that he did was to write to his -brother in Glasgow, acquainting him with his plans, and -begging him to obtain some further particulars about the -Highland and Agricultural Society's certificates. The -answer that came back from Glasgow was most encouraging; -for the Rev. Alexander Strang, though outwardly a -heavy and lethargic man, had a shrewd head enough, and -was an enterprising shifty person, not a little proud of the -position that he had won for himself, and rather inclined -to conceal from his circle of friends—who were mostly -members of his congregation—the fact that his brother was -merely a gamekeeper in the Highlands. Nay, more, he -was willing to assist; he would take Maggie into his house, -so that there might be no difficulty in that direction; and -in the meantime he would see what were the best -class-books on the subjects named, so that Ronald might be -working away at them in these comparatively idle spring -and summer months, and need not give up his situation -prematurely. There was even some hint thrown out that -perhaps Ronald might board with his brother; but this was -not pressed; for the fact was that Mrs. Alexander was a -severely rigid disciplinarian, and on the few occasions on -which Ronald had been their guest she had given both -brothers to understand that the frivolous gaiety of Ronald's -talk, and the independence of his manners, and his Gallio-like -indifference about the fierce schisms and heart-burnings -in the Scotch Church were not, in her opinion, in -consonance with the atmosphere that ought to prevail in a Free -Church minister's house. But on the whole the letter was -very friendly and hopeful; and Ronald was enjoined to let -his brother know when his decision should be finally taken, -and in what way assistance could be rendered him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One night the little Maggie stole away through the dark -to the Doctor's cottage. There was a light in the window -of Meenie's room; she could hear the sound of the piano; -no doubt Meenie was practising and alone; and on such -occasions a visit from Maggie was but little interruption. -And so the smaller girl went boldly towards the house and -gained admission, and was proceeding upstairs without any -ceremony, when the sudden cessation of the music caused -her to stop. And then she heard a very simple and pathetic -air begin—just touched here and there with a few chords: -and was Meenie, tired with the hard work of the practising, -allowing herself this little bit of quiet relaxation? She was -singing too—though so gently that Maggie could scarcely -make out the words. But she knew the song—had not -Meenie sung it many times before to her?—and who but -Meenie could put such tenderness and pathos into the simple -air? She had almost to imagine the words—so gentle was -the voice that went with those lightly-touched chords—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'The sun rase sae rosy, the gray hills adorning,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Light sprang the laverock, and mounted on hie,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">When true to the tryst o' blythe May's dewy morning,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Jeanie cam' linking out owre the green lea.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To mark her impatience I crap 'mong the brackens,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Aft, aft to the kent gate she turned her black e'e;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Then lying down dowilie, sighed, by the willow tree,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">"I am asleep, do not waken me."'[#]</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] 'I am asleep, do not waken me' is the English equivalent of the -Gaelic name of the air, which is a very old one, and equally pathetic -in its Irish and Highland versions.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Then there was silence. The little Maggie waited; for -this song was a great favourite with Ronald, who himself -sometimes attempted it; and she would be able to tell him -when she got home that she had heard Meenie sing it—and -he always listened with interest to anything, even the smallest -particulars, she could tell him about Meenie and about what -she had done or said. But where were the other verses? -She waited and listened; the silence was unbroken. And -so she tapped lightly at the door and entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then something strange happened. For when -Maggie shut the door behind her and went forward, Meenie -did not at once turn her head to see who this was, but had -hastily whipped out her handkerchief and passed it over her -eyes. And when she did turn, it was with a kind of look -of bravery—as if to dare any one to say that she had been -crying—though there were traces of tears on her cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Is it you, Maggie? I am glad to see you,' she managed -to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The younger girl was rather frightened and sorely concerned -as well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But what is it, Meenie dear?' she said, going and taking -her hand. 'Are you in trouble?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, no,' her friend said, with an effort to appear quite -cheerful, 'I was thinking of many things—I scarcely know -what. And now take off your things and sit down, Maggie, -and tell me all about this great news. It was only this -afternoon that my father learnt that you and your brother -were going away; and he would not believe it at first, till -he saw Ronald himself. And it is true, after all? Dear -me, what a change there will be!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke quite in her usual manner now; and her lips -were no longer trembling, but smiling; and the Highland -eyes were clear, and as full of kindness as ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But it is a long way off, Meenie,' the smaller girl -began to explain quickly, when she had taken her seat by -the fire, 'and Ronald is so anxious to please everybody, -and—and that is why I came along to ask you what you -think best.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I?' said Meenie, with a sudden slight touch of reserve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It'll not be a nice thing going away among strange folk,' -said her companion, 'but I'll no grumble if it's to do Ronald -good; and even among strange folk—well, I don't care as -long as I have Ronald and you, Meenie. And it's to -Glasgow, and not to Edinburgh, he thinks he'll have to go; -and then you will be in Glasgow too; so I do not mind -anything else. It will not be so lonely for any of us; and -we can spend the evenings together—oh no, it will not be -lonely at all——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But, Maggie,' the elder girl said gravely, 'I am not -going to Glasgow.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her companion looked up quickly, with frightened eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But you said you were going, Meenie!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh no,' the other said gently. 'My mother has often -talked of it—and I suppose I may have to go some time; -but my father is against it; and I know I am not going at -present anyway.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And you are staying here—and—and Ronald and me—we -will be by ourselves in Glasgow!' the other exclaimed, -as if this prospect were too terrible to be quite -comprehended as yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But if it is needful he should go?' Meenie said. -'People have often to part from their friends like that.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, and it's no much matter when they have plenty -of friends,' said the smaller girl, with her eyes becoming -moist, 'but, Meenie, I havena got one but you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh no, you must not say that,' her friend remonstrated. -'Why, there is your brother in Glasgow, and his family; I -am sure they will be kind to you. And Ronald will make -plenty of friends wherever he goes—you can see that for -yourself; and do you think you will be lonely in a great -town like Glasgow? It is the very place to make friends, -and plenty of them—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, I don't know what to do—I don't know what to -do, if you are not going to Glasgow, Meenie!' she broke -in. 'I wonder if it was that that Ronald meant. He -asked me whether I would like to stay here or go with -him, for Mrs. Murray has offered to take me in, and I -would have to help at keeping the books, and that is very -kind of them, I am sure, for I did not think I could be of -any use to anybody. And you are to be here in -Inver-Mudal—and Ronald away in Glasgow——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, it was a bewildering thing. These were the two -people she cared for most of all in the world; and virtually -she was called upon to choose between them. And if she -had a greater loyalty and reverence towards her brother, -still, Meenie was her sole girl-friend, and monitress, and -counsellor. What would her tasks be without Meenie's -approval; how could she get on with her knitting and -sewing without Meenie's aid; what would the days be like -without the witchery of Meenie's companionship—even if -that were limited to a passing word or a smile? Ronald had -not sought to influence her choice; indeed, the alternative -had scarcely been considered, for she believed that Meenie -was going to Glasgow also; and with her hero brother and -her beautiful girl-friend both there, what more could she -wish for in the world? But now—-?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, Meenie, in her wise and kind way, strove to calm -the anxiety of the girl; and her advice was altogether in -favour of Maggie's going to Glasgow with her brother -Ronald, if that were equally convenient to him, and of no -greater expense than her remaining in Inver-Mudal with -Mrs. Murray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'For you know he wants somebody to look after him,' -Meenie continued, with her eyes rather averted, 'and if it -does not matter so much here about his carelessness of -being wet and cold, because he has plenty of health and -exercise, it will be very different in Glasgow, where there -should be some one to bid him be more careful.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But he pays no heed to me,' the little sister sighed, -'unless I can tell him you have been saying so-and-so—then -he listens. He is very strange. He has never once -worn the blue jersey that I knitted for him. He asked me -a lot of questions about how it was begun; and I told him -as little as I could about the help you had given me,' she -continued evasively, 'and when the snow came on, I thought -he would wear it; but no—he put it away in the drawer -with his best clothes, and it's lying there all neatly folded -up—and what is the use of that? If you were going to -Glasgow, Meenie, it would be quite different. It will be -very lonely there.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Lonely!' the other exclaimed; 'with your brother -Ronald, and your other brother's family, and all their friends. -And then you will be able to go to school and have more -regular teaching—Ronald spoke once or twice to me about that.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, indeed,' the little Maggie said; but the prospect -did not cheer her much; and for some minutes they both -sate silent, she staring into the fire. And then she said -bitterly—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I wish the American people had never come here. It -is all their doing. It never would have come into Ronald's -head to leave Inver-Mudal but for them. And where else -will he be so well known—and—and every one speaking -well of him—and every one so friendly——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But, Maggie, these things are always happening,' her -companion remonstrated. 'Look at the changes my father -has had to make.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And I wonder if we are never to come back to Inver-Mudal, -Meenie?' the girl said suddenly, with appealing eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meenie tried to laugh, and said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Who can tell? It is the way of the world for people -to come and go. And Glasgow is a big place—perhaps -you would not care to come back after having made plenty -of friends there.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'My friends will always be here, and nowhere else,' the -smaller girl said, with emphasis. 'Oh, Meenie, do you -think if Ronald were to get on well and make more money -than he has now, he would come back here, and bring me -too, for a week maybe, just to see every one again?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I cannot tell you that, Maggie,' the elder girl said, rather -absently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After this their discussion of the strange and unknown -future that lay before them languished somehow; for Meenie -seemed preoccupied, and scarcely as blithe and hopeful as she -had striven to appear. But when Maggie rose to return -home—saying that it was time for her to be looking after Ronald's -supper—her friend seemed to pull herself together somewhat, -and at once and cheerfully accepted Maggie's invitation -to come and have tea with her the following afternoon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'For you have been so little in to see us lately,' the -small Maggie said; 'and Ronald always engaged with the -American people—and often in the evening too as well as -the whole day long.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But I must make a great deal of you now that you are -going away,' said Miss Douglas, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And Ronald—will I ask him to stay in till you come?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But here there was some hesitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh no, I would not do that—no doubt he is busy just -now with his preparations for going away. I would not say -anything to him—you and I will have tea together by -ourselves.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The smaller girl looked up timidly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald is going away too, Meenie.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps there was a touch of reproach in the tone; at -all events Meenie said, after a moment's embarrassment—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Of course I should be very glad if he happened to be -in the house—and—and had the time to spare; but I think -he will understand that, Maggie, without your saying as -much to him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He gave plenty of his time to the American young -lady,' said Maggie, rather proudly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But I thought you and she were great friends,' Meenie -said, in some surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It takes a longer time than that to make friends,' the -girl said; and by and by she left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Meenie went up to her room again, and sate down -in front of the dull, smouldering peat-fire, with its heavy -lumps of shadow, and its keen edges of crimson, and its -occasional flare of flame and shower of sparks. There were -many pictures there—of distant things; of the coming -spring-time, with all the new wonder and gladness somehow -gone out of it; and of the long long shining summer days, -and Inver-Mudal grown lonely: and of the busy autumn -time, with the English people come from the south, and no -Ronald there, to manage everything for them. For her -heart was very affectionate; and she had but few friends; -and Glasgow was a great distance away. There were some -other fancies too, and self-questionings and perhaps even -self-reproaches, that need not be mentioned here. When, -by and by, she rose and went to the piano, which was still -open, it was not to resume her seat. She stood absently -staring at the keys—for these strange pictures followed her; -and indeed that one half-unconscious trial of '</span><em class="italics">I am asleep, -do not waken me</em><span>' had been quite enough for her in her -present mood.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="among-the-untrodden-ways"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">'AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Yes; it soon became clear that Meenie Douglas, in view -of this forthcoming departure, had resolved to forego -something of the too obvious reserve she had recently imposed -on herself—if, indeed, that maidenly shrinking and shyness -had not been rather a matter of instinct than of will. When -Ronald came home on the following evening she was seated -with Maggie in the old familiar way at a table plentifully -littered with books, patterns, and knitting; and when she -shook hands with him, her timidly uplifted eyes had much -of the old friendliness in them, and her smile of welcome -was pleasant to see. It was he who was diffident and -very respectful. For if her mother had enjoined her to -be a little more distant in manner towards this one or -the other of those around her—well, that was quite intelligible; -that was quite right; and he could not complain; -but on the other hand, if the girl herself, in this very small -domestic circle, seemed rather anxious to put aside those -barriers which were necessary out of doors, he would not -presume on her good-nature. And yet—and yet—he could -not help thawing a little; for she was very kind, and even -merry withal; and her eyes were like the eyes of the -Meenie of old.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I am sure Maggie will be glad to get away from Inver-Mudal,' -she was saying, 'for she will not find anywhere a -schoolmistress as hard as I have been. But maybe she -will not have to go to school at all, if she has to keep house -for you?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But she'll no have to keep house for me,' Ronald said -at once. 'If she goes to Glasgow, she'll be much better -with my brother's family, for that will be a home for her.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And where will you go, Ronald?' she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, into a lodging—I can fend for myself.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this she looked grave—nay, she did not care to conceal -her disapproval. For had she not been instructing Maggie -in the mysteries of housekeeping in a town—as far as these -were known to herself: and had not the little girl showed -great courage; and declared there was nothing she would not -attempt rather than be separated from her brother Ronald?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It would never do,' said he, 'to leave the lass alone in -the house all day in a big town. It's very well here, where -she has neighbours and people to look after her from time -to time; but among strangers——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he looked at the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But where's the tea ye said ye would ask Miss Douglas -in to?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We were so busy with the Glasgow housekeeping,' -Meenie said, laughing, 'that we forgot all about it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll go and get it ready now,' the little Maggie said, -and she went from the room, leaving these two alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was a little embarrassed; and she was also. There -had been no </span><em class="italics">amantium irae</em><span> of any kind; but all the same -the </span><em class="italics">integratio amoris</em><span> was just a trifle difficult; for she on -her side was anxious to have their old relations re-established -during the brief period that would elapse ere he left the -neighbourhood, and yet she was hesitating and uncertain; -while he on his side maintained a strictly respectful -reserve. He 'knew his place;' his respect towards -her was part of his own self-respect; and if it did not -occur to him that it was rather hard upon Meenie that -all the advances towards a complete rehabilitation of their -friendship should come from her, that was because he did -not know that she was moved by any such wish, and also -because he was completely ignorant of a good deal else -that had happened of late. Of course, certain things were -obvious enough. Clearly the half-frightened, distant, and -yet regretful look with which she had recently met and -parted from him when by chance they passed each other -in the road was no longer in her eyes; there was a kind of -appeal for friendliness in her manner towards him; she -seemed to say, 'Well, you are going away; don't let us -forget the old terms on which we used to meet.' And not -only did he quickly respond to that feeling, but also he was -abundantly grateful to her; did not he wish to carry away -with him the pleasantest memories of this beautiful, -sweet-natured friend, who had made all the world magical to him -for a while, who had shown him the grace and dignity and -honour of true womanhood, and made him wonder no less -at the charm of her clear-shining simplicity and naturalness? -The very name of 'Love Meenie' would be as the scent of -a rose—as the song of a lark—for him through all the long -coming years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It will make a great change about here,' said she, with -her eyes averted, 'your going away.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's no one missed for long,' he answered, in his -downright fashion. 'Where people go, people come; the -places get filled up.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, but sometimes they are not quite the same,' said -she rather gently. She was thinking of the newcomer. -Would he be the universal favourite that Ronald was—always -good-natured and laughing, but managing everybody -and everything; lending a hand at the sheep-shearing or -playing the pipes at a wedding—anything to keep life -moving along briskly; and always ready to give her father -a day's hare-shooting or a turn at the pools of Mudal-Water -when the spates began to clear? She knew quite well—for -often had she heard it spoken of—that no one could -get on as well as Ronald with the shepherds at the time of -the heather-burning: when on the other moors the shepherds -and keepers were growling and quarrelling like rival -leashes of collies, on Lord Ailine's ground everything was -peace and quietness and good humour. And then she had -a vague impression that the next keeper would be merely -a keeper; whereas Ronald was—Ronald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm sure I was half ashamed,' said he, 'when I got his -lordship's letter. It was as fair an offer as one man could -make to another; or rather, half a dozen offers; for he -said he would raise my wage, if that was what was wrong; -or he would let me have another lad to help me in the -kennels; or, if I was tired of the Highlands he would get -me a place at his shooting in the south. Well, I was sweirt -to trouble his lordship with my small affairs; but after that -I couldna but sit down and write to him the real reason -of my leaving——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And I'm certain,' said she quickly, 'that he will write -back and offer you any help in his power.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, no,' said he, with a kind of laugh, 'the one letter -is enough—if it ever comes to be a question of a written -character. But it's just real friendly and civil of him; and -if I could win up here for a week or a fortnight in August, -I would like well to lend them a hand and set them going; -for it will be a good year for the grouse, I'm thinking——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, will you be coming to see us in August?' she said, -with her eyes suddenly and rather wistfully lighting up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, I don't know how I may be situated,' said he. -'And there's the railway expense—though I would not -mind that much if I had the chance otherwise; for his -lordship has been a good master to me; and I would just -like to lend him a hand, and start the new man with the -management of the dogs and the beats. That's one thing -Lord Ailine will do for me, I hope: I hope he will let me -have a word about the man that's coming in my place; I -would not like to have a cantankerous ill-tempered brute -of a fellow coming in to have charge of my dogs. They're -the bonniest lot in Sutherlandshire.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this was practical enough; and meanwhile she had -set to work to clear the table, to make way for Maggie. -When the young handmaiden appeared with the tea-things he -left the room for a few minutes, and presently returned with -a polecat-skin, carefully dressed and smoothed, in his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Here's a bit thing,' said he, 'I wish ye would take, if -it's of any use to you. Or if ye could tell me anything ye -wished it made into, I could have that done when I go -south. And if your mother would like one or two of the -deer-skins, I'm sure she's welcome to them; they're useful -about a house.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Indeed, you are very kind, Ronald,' said she, flushing -somewhat, 'and too kind, indeed—for you know that ever -since we have known you all these kindnesses have always -been on one side—and—and—we have never had a chance -of doing anything in return for you——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, nonsense,' said he good-naturedly. 'Well, there -is one thing your father could do for me—if he would take -my gun, and my rifle, and rods and reels, and just keep -them in good working order, that would be better than -taking them to Glasgow and getting them spoiled with rust -and want of use. I don't want to part with them altogether; -for they're old friends; and I would like to have them left -in safe keeping——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed lightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And that is your way of asking a favour—to offer my -father the loan of all these things. Well, I am sure he will -be very glad to take charge of them——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And to use them,' said he, 'to use them; for that is -the sure way of keeping them in order.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But perhaps the new keeper may not be so friendly?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, I will take care about that,' said he confidently; -'and in any case you know it was his lordship said your -father might have a day on the Mudal-Water whenever he -liked. And what do you think, now, about the little skin -there?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I think I will keep it as it is—just as you have given -it to me,' she said simply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In due course they had tea together; but that afternoon -or evening meal is a substantial affair in the north-cold -beef, ham, scones, oatmeal cake, marmalade, jam, and -similar things all making their appearance—and one not to -be lightly hurried over. And Meenie was so much at -home now; and there was so much to talk over; and she -was so hopeful. Of course, Ronald must have holiday-times, -like other people; and where would he spend these, -if he did not come back to his old friends? And he would -have such chances as no mere stranger could have, coming -through on the mail-cart and asking everywhere for a little -trout-fishing. Ronald would have a day or two's stalking -from Lord Ailine; and there was the loch; and Mudal-Water; -and if the gentlemen were after the grouse, would -they not be glad to have an extra gun on the hill for a day -or two, just to make up a bag for them?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And then,' said Meenie, with a smile, 'who knows but -that Ronald may in time be able to have a shooting of his -own? Stranger things have happened.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When tea was over and the things removed he lit -his pipe, and the girls took to their knitting. And never, -he thought, had Meenie looked so pretty and pleased and -quickly responsive with her clear and happy eyes. He -forgot all about Mrs. Douglas's forecast as to the future -estate of her daughter; he forgot all about the Stuarts of -Glengask and Orosay; this was the Meenie whom Mudal -knew, whom Clebrig had charge of, who was the friend and -companion of the birds and the wild-flowers and the summer -streams. What a wonderful thing it was to see her small -fingers so deftly at work; when she looked up the room -seemed full of light and entrancement; her sweet low laugh -found an echo in the very core of his heart. And they all -of them, for this one happy evening, seemed to forget that -soon there was to be an end. They were together; the -world shut out; the old harmony re-established, or nearly -re-established; and Meenie was listening to his reading of -'the Eve of St. Agnes'—in the breathless hush of the little -room—or she was praying, and in vain, for him to bring -his pipes and play 'Lord Lovat's Lament,' or they were -merely idly chatting and laughing, while the busy work of -the fingers went on. And sometimes he sate quite silent, -listening to the other two; and her voice seemed to fill the -room with music; and he wondered whether he could carry -away in his memory some accurate recollection of the -peculiar, soft, rich tone, that made the simplest things -sound valuable. It was a happy evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when she rose to go away she grew graver; and -as she and Ronald went along the road together—it was -very dark, though there were a few stars visible here and -there—she said to him in rather a low voice—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, Ronald, the parting between friends is not very -pleasant, but I am sure I hope it will all be for the best, -now that you have made up your mind to it. And every -one seems to think you will do well.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, as for that,' said he, 'that is all right. If the worst -comes to the worst, there is always the Black Watch.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What do you mean?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, they're always sending the Forty-Second into the -thick of it, no matter what part of the world the fighting is, -so that a man has a good chance. I suppose I'm not too -old to get enlisted; sometimes I wish I had thought of it -when I was a lad—I don't know that I would like anything -better than to be a sergeant in the Black Watch. And I'm -sure I would serve three years for no pay at all if I could -only get one single chance of winning the V.C. But it -comes to few; it's like the big stag—it's there when ye least -expect it; and a man's hand is not just always ready, and -steady. But I'm sure ye needna bother about what's going -to happen to me—that's of small account.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It is of very great account to your friends, at all events,' -said she valiantly, 'and you must not forget, when you are -far enough away from here, that you have friends here who -are thinking of you and always wishing you well. It will be -easy for you to forget; you will have all kinds of things to -do, and many people around you; but the others here may -often think of you, and wish to hear from you. It is the -one that goes away that has the best of it, I think—among -the excitement of meeting strange scenes and strange -faces——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But I am not likely to forget,' said he, rather -peremptorily; and they walked on in silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently she said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I have a little album that I wish you would write -something in before you go away altogether.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh yes, I will do that,' said he, 'and gladly.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But I mean something of your own,' she said rather -more timidly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why, but who told you—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, every one knows, surely!' said she. 'And why -should you conceal it? There were the verses that you -wrote about Mrs. Semple's little girl—I saw them when I -was at Tongue last—and indeed I think they are quite -beautiful: will you write out a copy of them in my -album?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Or something else, perhaps,' said he—for instantly it -flashed upon him that it was something better than a mere -copy that was needed for Meenie's book. Here, indeed, -was a chance. If there was any inspiration to be gained -from these wild hills and straths and lonely lakes, now was -the time for them to be propitious; would not Clebrig—the -giant Clebrig—whose very child Meenie was—come to -his aid, that so he might present to her some fragment of -song or rhyme not unworthy to be added to her little -treasury?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I will send for the book to-morrow,' said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I hope it will not give you too much trouble,' said she, -as they reached the small gate, 'but it is very pleasant to -turn over the leaves and see the actual writing of your -friends, and think of when you last saw them and where -they are now. And that seems to be the way with most of -our friends; I suppose it is because we have moved about -so; but there is scarcely any one left—and if it was not for -a letter occasionally, or a dip into that album, I should -think we were almost alone in the world. Well, good-night, -Ronald—or will you come in and have a chat with my -father?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I am afraid it is rather late,' he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, good-night.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good-night, Miss Douglas,' said he, and then he walked -slowly back to his home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And indeed he was in no mood to turn to the scientific -volumes that had already arrived from Glasgow. His heart -was all afire because of the renewal of Meenie's kindness; -and the sound of her voice was still in his ears; and quite -naturally he took out that blotting-pad full of songs and -fragments of songs, to glance over them here and there, and -see if amongst them there was any one likely to recall to him -when he was far away from Inver-Mudal the subtle mystery -and charm of her manner and look. And then he began -to think what a stranger coming to Inver-Mudal would see -in Meenie? Perhaps only the obvious things—the pretty -oval of the cheek and chin, the beautiful proud mouth, the -wide-apart contemplative eyes? And perhaps these would -be sufficient to attract? He began to laugh with scorn at -this stranger—who could only see these obvious things—who -knew nothing about Meenie, and the sweetness of her -ways, her shrewd common-sense and the frank courage and -honour of her mind. And what if she were to turn coquette -under the influence of this alien admiration? Or perhaps -become sharply proud? Well, he set to work—out of a -kind of whimsicality—and in time had scribbled out this—</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="italics">FLOWER AUCTION.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Who will buy pansies?</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">There are her eyes,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Dew-soft and tender,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Love in them lies.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Who will buy roses?</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">There are her lips,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And there is the nectar</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That Cupidon sips.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Who will buy lilies?</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">There are her cheeks,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And there the shy blushing</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That maidhood bespeaks.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Meenie, Love Meenie,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">What must one pay?'</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Good stranger, the market's</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Not open to-day!'</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>He looked at the verses again and again; and the longer -he looked at them the less he liked them—he scarcely knew -why. Perhaps they were a little too literary? They seemed -to lack naturalness and simplicity; at all events, they were -not true to Meenie; why should Meenie figure as a flippant -coquette? And so he threw them away and turned to his -books—not the scientific ones—to hunt out something that -was like Meenie. He came near it in Tannahill, but was -not quite satisfied. A verse or two in Keats held his fancy -for a moment. But at last he found what he wanted in -Wordsworth—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'A violet by a mossy stone</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Half hidden from the eye;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">—Fair as a star, when only one</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Is shining in the sky.'</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Yes; that was liker Meenie—who 'dwelt among the -untrodden ways.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-lesson-in-fly-fishing"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Miss Carry Hodson returned from Paris in a very radiant -mood; she had had what she called a real good time, and -everything connected with the wedding had gone off most -successfully. Her dress, that she had ordered long before -she came to the Highlands, was a perfect fit; Lily Selden -made the most charming and beautiful of brides; and no -less a person than a prince (rather swarthy, and hailing -from some mysterious region east of the Carpathians) -had proposed the health of the bridesmaids, and had -made especial mention of the young ladies who had -travelled long distances to be present on the auspicious -occasion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, on the morning after her return to Inver-Mudal -her equanimity was somewhat dashed. When she went -along the passage to the little hall—to see what the -morning was like outside—she found waiting there a respectable-looking -elderly Highlander, with grizzled locks, who touched -his cap to her, and who had her waterproof over his arm. -This last circumstance made her suspicious; instantly she -went back to her father.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Who is that man?' she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What man?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why, an old man, who is waiting there, and he has -got my waterproof slung over his arm.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, I suppose that is the new gillie.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Isn't Ronald going down?' she said, with very evident -disappointment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Of course not,' her father said, with some sharpness. -'I think you have taken up enough of his time. And just -now, when he is getting ready to go away, do you think I -could allow him to waste day after day in attending to us? -Seems to me it would be more to the point if you put your -small amount of brain into devising some means of squaring -up with him for what he has done already.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, very well,' she said—or rather, what she did really -say was 'Oh, vurry well'—and the pretty, pale, attractive -face resumed its ordinary complacency, and she went off -to make friends with the new gillie. She was on good -terms with the old Highlander in about a couple of minutes; -and presently they were on their way down to the loch, -along with the lad John. Her father was to follow as soon -as he had finished his letters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she was now to discover, what she had never discovered -before, that salmon-fishing on a loch is a rather -monotonous affair, unless the fish are taking very freely -indeed. For one thing, the weather had settled down -into a fine, clear, spring-like calm and quiet that was not -at all favourable to the sport. It was very beautiful, no -doubt; for sometimes for hours together the lake would be -like a sheet of glass—the yellow shores and purple -birch-woods all accurately doubled, with nearer at hand the -faint white reflections of the snow-peaks in the north -stretching out into the soft and deep blue; and when a -breath of wind, from some unexpected point of the -compass, began to draw a sharp line of silver between earth -and water, and then came slowly across the loch to them, -ruffling out that magic inverted picture on its way, the -breeze was deliciously fresh and balmy, and seemed to -bring with it tidings of the secret life that was working -forward to the leafiness of summer. They kept well out -into the midst of this spacious circle of loveliness, for old -Malcolm declared they would be doing more harm than -good by going over the fishing-ground; so she had a -sufficiently ample view of this great panorama of water and -wood and far mountain-slopes. But it grew monotonous. -She began to think of Paris, and the brisk, busy days—a -hurry of gaiety and pleasure and interest using up every -possible minute. She wished she had a book—some -knitting—anything. Why, when Ronald was in the boat—with -his quick sarcastic appreciation of every story she -had to tell, or every experience she had to describe—there -was always enough amusement and talking. But this old -man was hopeless. She asked him questions about his -croft, his family, his sheep and cows; and he answered -gravely; but she took no interest in his answers, as her -father might have done. She was unmistakably glad to -get ashore for lunch—which was picturesque enough, by -the way, with that beautiful background all around; and -neither her father nor herself was in any hurry to break up -the small picnic-party and set to work again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor did they do much better in the afternoon—though -her father managed to capture a small eight-pounder; and -so, in the evening, before dinner, she went along to Ronald -to complain. She found him busy with his books; his -gun and cap and telescope lying on the table beside him, -showed that he had just come in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay,' said he, 'it's slow work in weather like this. But -will ye no sit down?' and he went and brought her a -chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, I thank you,' said she; 'I came along to see if -you thought there was likely to be any change. Is your -glass a good one?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'First-rate,' he answered, and he went to the small -aneroid and tapped it lightly. 'It was given me by a -gentleman that shot his first stag up here. I think he -would have given me his head, he was so pleased. Well, -no, Miss Hodson, there's not much sign of a change. -But I'll tell ye what we'll do, if you're tired of the loch, -we'll try one or two of the pools on the Mudal.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You mean the river down there?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's not much hope there either—for the water's -low the now; but we might by chance get a little wind, -or there are some broken bits in the stream—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But you mean with a fly—how could I throw a fly?' -she exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye'll never learn younger,' was the quiet answer. 'It -there's no change to-morrow I'll take ye up the river -myself—and at least ye can get some practice in casting——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh no, no,' said she hurriedly, 'thank you very much, -but I must not take up your time——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm no so busy that I cannot leave the house for an -hour or two,' said he—and she understood by his manner -that he was 'putting his foot down,' in which case she -knew she might just as well give in at once. 'But I warn -ye that it's a dour river at the best, and not likely to be in -good ply; however, we might just happen on one.' And -then he added, by way of explanation, 'If we should, it -will have to be sent to Lord Ailine, ye understand.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Because the river doesna belong to your fishing; it -goes with the shooting.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh,' said she, somewhat coldly. 'And so, when Lord -Ailine gives any one a day's fishing he claims whatever -fish they may catch?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'When his lordship gives a day's fishing he does not; -but when the keeper does—that's different,' was the -perfectly simple and respectful answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, I beg your pardon,' said she hastily, and sincerely -hoping she had said nothing to wound his feelings. -Apparently she had not, for he proceeded to warn her about -the necessity of her putting on a thick pair of boots; and -he also gently hinted that she might wear on her head -something less conspicuous than the bright orange Tam o' -Shanter of which she seemed rather fond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Accordingly, next morning, instead of sending him a -message that she was ready, she walked along to the cottage, -accoutred for a thorough stiff day's work. The outer door -was open, so she entered without ceremony; and then -tapped at the door of the little parlour, which she -proceeded to open also. She then found that Ronald was -not alone; there was a young man sitting there, who -instantly rose as she made her appearance. She had but -a momentary glimpse of him, but she came to the conclusion -that the gamekeepers in this part of the world were -a good-looking race, for this was a strongly-built young -fellow, keen and active, apparently, with a rather pink and -white complexion, closely-cropped head, bright yellow -moustache, and singularly clear blue eyes. He wore a plain -tweed suit; and as he rose he picked up a billycock hat -that was lying on the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll see you to-night, Ronald,' said he, 'I'm going off -by the mail again to-morrow.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as he passed by Miss Carry, he said, very modestly -and respectfully—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I hope you will have good sport.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Thank you,' said she, most civilly, for he seemed a -well-mannered young man, as he slightly bowed to her in -passing, and made his way out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ronald had everything ready for the start.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm feared they'll be laughing at us for trying the river -on so clear a day,' said he, as he put his big fly-book in his -pocket. 'And there's been no rain to let the fish get up.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh I don't mind about that,' said she, as he held the -door open, and she went out, 'it will be more interesting -than the lake. However, I've nothing to say against the -lake fishing, for it has done such wonders for my father. I -have not seen him so well for years. Whether it is the -quiet life, or the mountain air, I don't know, but he sleeps -perfectly, and he has entirely given up the bromide of -potassium. I do hope he will take the shooting and come back -in the autumn.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'His lordship was saying there were two other gentlemen -after it,' remarked Ronald significantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Who was saying?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'His lordship—that was in the house the now when -ye came in.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Was that Lord Ailine?' she said—and she almost -paused in their walk along the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh yes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You don't say! Why, how did he come here?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'By the mail this morning.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'With the country people?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Just like anybody else,' he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, I declare! I thought he would have come with -a coach and outriders—in state, you know——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What for?' said he impassively. 'He had no luggage, -I suppose, but a bag and a waterproof. It's different in -the autumn, of course, when all the gentlemen come up, -and there's luggage and the rifles and the -cartridge-boxes—then they have to have a brake or a waggonette.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And that was Lord Ailine,' she said, half to herself; -and there was no further speaking between them until they -had gone past the Doctor's cottage and over the bridge and -were some distance up 'the strath that Mudal laves'—to -quote her companion's own words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now,' said he, as he stooped and began to put together -the slender grilse-rod, 'we'll just let ye try a cast or two on -this bit of open grass—and we'll no trouble with a fly as yet.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He fastened on the reel, got the line through the rings, -and drew out a few yards' length. Then he gave her the -rod; showed her how to hold it; and then stood just -behind her, with his right hand covering hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now,' said he, 'keep your left hand just about as steady -as ye can—and don't jerk—this way—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course it was really he who was making these few -preliminary casts, and each time the line ran out and fell -straight and trembling on the grass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now try it yourself.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first she made a very bad job of it—especially when -she tried to do it by main force; the line came curling -down not much more than the rod's length in front of her, -and the more she whipped the closer became the curls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm afraid I don't catch on quite,' she said, -unconsciously adopting one of her father's phrases.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Patience—patience,' said he; and again he gripped -her hand in his and the line seemed to run out clear with -the gentlest possible forward movement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then he put out more line—and still more and -more—until every backward and upward swoop of the rod, -and every forward cast, was accompanied by a 'swish' -through the air. This was all very well; and she was -throwing a beautiful, clean line; but she began to wonder -when the bones in her right hand would suddenly succumb -and be crunched into a jelly. The weight of the rod—which -seemed a mighty engine to her—did not tell on her, -for his one hand did the whole thing; but his grip was -terrible; and yet she did not like to speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now try for yourself,' said he, and he stepped aside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Wait a minute,' she said—and she shook her hand, to -get the life back into it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I did not hurt you?' said he, in great concern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We learn in suffering what we teach in song,' she said -lightly. 'If I am to catch a salmon with a fly-rod, I -suppose I have got to go through something.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She set to work again; and, curiously enough, she -seemed to succeed better with the longer line than with -the short one. There was less jerking; the forward -movement was more even; and though she was far indeed -from throwing a good line, it was very passable for a -beginner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You know,' said she, giving him a good-humoured hint, -'I don't feel like doing this all day.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, then, we'll go down to the water now,' said he, -and he took the rod from her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked down through the swampy grass and -heather to the banks of the stream; and here he got out -his fly-book—a bulged and baggy volume much the worse -for wear. And then it instantly occurred to her that this -was something she could get for him—the most splendid -fly-book and assortment of salmon flies to be procured in -London—until it just as suddenly occurred to her that he -would have little use for these in Glasgow. She saw him -select a smallish black and gold and crimson-tipped object -from that bulky volume; and a few minutes thereafter she -was armed for the fray, and he was standing by watching.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now the Mudal, though an exceedingly 'dour' salmon-river, -is at least easy for a beginner to fish, for there is -scarcely anywhere a bush along its level banks. And there -were the pools—some of them deep and drumly enough in -all conscience; and no doubt there were salmon in them, -if only they could be seduced from their lair. For one -thing, Ronald had taken her to a part of the stream where -she could not, in any case, do much harm by her preliminary -whippings of the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She began—not without some little excitement, and -awful visions of triumph and glory if she should really be -able to capture a salmon by her own unaided skill. Of -course she caught in the heather behind her sometimes; -and occasionally the line would come down in a ghastly -heap on the water; but then again it would go fairly out -and over to the other bank, and the letting it down with -the current and drawing it across—as he had shown her in -one or two casts—was a comparatively easy matter. She -worked hard, at all events, and obeyed implicitly—until -alas! there came a catastrophe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'A little bit nearer the bank if you can,' said he; 'just a -foot nearer.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She clenched her teeth. Back went the rod with all her -might—and forward again with all her might—but midway -and overhead there was a mighty crack like that of a -horse-whip; and calmly he regarded the line as it fell on the -water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The fly's gone,' said he—but with not a trace of -vexation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, Ronald, I'm so sorry!' she cried, for she knew -that these things were expensive, even where they did not -involve a considerable outlay of personal skill and trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not at all,' said he, as he quietly sate down on a dry -bunch of heather and got out his book again. 'All -beginners do that. I'll just show ye in a minute or two -how to avoid it. And we'll try a change now.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed she was in no way loth to sit down on the -heather too; and even after he had selected the particular -Childers he wanted, she took the book, and would have -him tell her the names of all the various flies, which, quite -apart from their killing merits, seemed to her beautiful and -interesting objects. And finally she said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald, my arms are a little tired. Won't you try a -cast or two? I am sure I should learn as much by looking -on.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did as he was bid; and she went with him; but he -could not stir anything. The river was low; the day was -clear; there was no wind. But at last they came to a part -of the stream where there was a dark and deep pool, and -below that a wide bed of shingle, while between the shingle -and the bank was a narrow channel where the water tossed -and raced before breaking out into the shallows. He -drew her a little bit back from the bank and made her take -the rod again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If there's a chance at all, it's there,' he said. 'Do ye -see that stone over there?—well, just try to drop the fly -a foot above the stone, and let it get into the swirl.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She made her first cast—the line fell in a tangled heap -about three yards short.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye've got out of the way of it,' said he, and he took -the rod from her, let out a little more line, and then gave -it to her again, standing behind her, with his hand -over-gripping hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fly fell a foot short—but clean. The next cast it -fell at the precise spot indicated, and was swept into the -current, and dragged slowly and jerkily across. Again he -made the cast for her, with the same negative result; and -then he withdrew his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That's right—very well done!' he said, as she continued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, but what's the use when you have tried——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had scarcely got the words out when she suddenly -found the line held tight—and tighter—she saw it cut its -way through the water, up and towards the bank of the -pool above—and down and down was the point of the rod -pulled until it almost touched the stream. All this had -happened in one wild second.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Let the line go!—what are ye doing, lassie?' he cried. -The fact was that in her sudden alarm she had grasped -both line and rod more firmly than ever; and in another -half second the fish must inevitably have broken something. -But this exclamation of his recalled her to her senses—she -let the line go free—got up the rod—and then waited -events—with her heart in her mouth. She had not long to -wait. It very soon appeared to her as if she had hooked -an incarnate flash of lightning; for there was nothing this -beast did not attempt to do; now rushing down the narrow -channel so close to the bank that a single out-jutting twig -must have cut the line; now lashing on the edge of the -shallows; twice jerking himself into the air; and then -settling down in the deep pool, not to sulk, but to twist -and tug at the line in a series of angry snaps. And always -it was 'Oh, Ronald, what shall I do now?' or 'Ronald, -what will he do next?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You're doing well enough,' said he placidly. 'But it -will be a long fight; and ye must not let him too far down -the stream, or he'll take ye below the foot bridge. And -don't give him much line; follow him, rather.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was immediately called on to act on this advice; -for with one determined, vicious rush, away went the salmon -down the stream—she after him as well as her woman's -skirts would allow, and always and valorously she was keeping -a tight strain on the pliant rod. Alas! all of a sudden -her foot caught in a tuft of heather—down she went, -prone, her arms thrown forward so that nothing could save -her. But did she let go the rod? Not a bit! She clung -to it with the one hand; and when Ronald helped her to -her feet again, she had no thought of herself at all—all her -breathless interest was centred on the salmon. Fortunately -that creature had now taken to sulking, in a pool farther -down; and she followed him, getting in the line the while.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But I'm afraid you're hurt,' said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, no.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something was tickling the side of her face. She shifted -the grip of the rod, and passed the back of her right hand -across her ear; a brief glance showed her that her knuckles -were stained with blood. But she took no further heed; -for she had to get both hands on the rod again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'She has pluck, that one,' Ronald said to himself; but -he said nothing aloud, he wanted her to remain as -self-possessed as possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And what if he goes down to the footbridge, Ronald?' -she said presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But ye must not let him.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But if he will go?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Then ye'll give me the rod and I'll take it under the -bridge.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fish lay there as heavy and dead as a stone; -nothing they could do could stir him an inch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The beast has been at this work before,' Ronald said. -'That jagging to get the hook out is the trick of an old -hand. But this sulking will never do at all.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He left her and went farther up the stream to the place -where the river ran over the wide bed of shingle. There -he deliberately walked into the water—picking up a few -pebbles as he went—and, with a running leap, crossed the -channel and gained the opposite bank. Then he quickly -walked down to within a yard or two of the spot where the -'dour' salmon lay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She thought this was very foolish child's play that he -should go and fling little stones at a fish he could not see. -But presently she perceived that he was trying all he could -to get the pebbles to drop vertically and parallel with the -line. And then the object of this device was apparent. -The salmon moved heavily forward, some few inches only. -Another pebble was dropped. This time the fish made a -violent rush up stream that caused Miss Carry's reel to -shriek; and off she set after him (but with more circumspection -this time as regards her footing), getting in the -line as rapidly as possible as she went. Ronald now came -over and joined her, and this was comforting to her nerves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, long before she had killed that fish she had -discovered the difference between loch-fishing and -river-fishing; but she did kill him in the end; and mightily -pleased she was when she saw him lying on the sere wintry -grass. Ronald would have had her try again; but she had -had enough; it was past lunch time, and she was hungry; -moreover, she was tired; and then again she did not wish -that he should waste the whole day. So, when she had -sate down for a while, and watched him tie the salmon -head and tail, they set out for the village again, very well -content; while as for the slight wound she had received -by her ear catching on a twig of heather when she fell, that -was quite forgotten now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And ye are to have the fish,' said he. 'I told his -lordship this morning you were going to try your hand at -the casting; and he said if you got one you would be proud -of it, no doubt, and ye were to keep it, of course.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, that is very kind; I suppose I must thank him -if I see him?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And she was very curious to know all about Lord Ailine; -and why he should come to Inver-Mudal merely for these -few hours; and what kind of people he brought with him -in the autumn. He answered her as well as he could; and -then they went on to other things—all in a very gay and -merry mood, for he was as proud as she was over this -achievement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same moment Meenie Douglas was in her own -little room, engaged on a work of art of a not very ambitious -kind. She had lying before her on the table a pencil-sketch -in outline of such features of the landscape as could be seen -from the window—the loch, the wooded promontories, Ben -Clebrig, and the little clump of trees that sheltered the inn; -and she was engaged in making a smaller copy of this -drawing, in pen and ink, on a paper-cutter of brown wood. -She was not much of an artist, perhaps; but surely these -simple outlines were recognisable; and if they were to be -entitled '</span><em class="italics">A Souvenir</em><span>,' and carried away to the south as a little -parting present, might they not in some idle moment of -the future recall some brief memory of these northern wilds? -So she was at work on this task—and very careful that the -lines should be clear and precise—when she heard the sound -of voices without—or rather one voice, which presently she -recognised to be Ronald's: she could not easily mistake it. -And if she were to go to the window and get him to stop -for a minute, at the gate, and show him the sketch that she -had just about finished—perhaps he would be pleased?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went to the window—but instantly drew back. She -had just caught a glimpse: it was the American young lady -he was walking with—at a time when he was supposed to -be so busy; and he was carrying her rod for her and her -ulster as well as the salmon; and they were laughing and -gaily talking together, like a pair of lovers almost on this -clear spring day. Meenie went slowly back to the table—her -face perhaps a trifle paler than usual; and she sate -down, and began to look at the little drawing that she had -been rather proud of. But her lips were proud and firm. -Why should she give a drawing to any one—more especially -to one who was so ready with his friendship and so quick -to consort with strangers? The lines on the brown wood -seemed cold and uninteresting; she was no longer anxious -that they should suggest an accurate picture; nay, she -pushed the thing away from her, and rose, and went back -to the window, and stood idly gazing out there, her lips -still proud, her mien defiant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then—well, Ronald was going away. Was it worth -while to let pride or self-love come between them and -becloud these last few days, when perhaps they might never -see each other again? For well she knew of her mother's -aims and hopes with regard to herself; and well she knew -that—whatever she may have guessed from the verses of -Ronald's which assuredly had never been meant for her to -see—it was neither for him nor for her to expect that the -harsh facts and necessities of the world should give place -and yield to a passing fancy, a dream, a kind of wistful, -half-poetic shadow of what otherwise might have been. -But at least Ronald and she might part friends; nay, they -should part friends. And so she returned to the -table—overmastering her momentary pride; and she took up the -discarded little drawing and regarded it with gentler eyes. -For, after all (as she could not forget) Ronald was going away.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="poeta-non-fit"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">POETA ... NON FIT.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It soon became obvious that the salmon-fishers from the -other side of the Atlantic had got into a long spell of -deplorably fine weather; and a gentle melancholy settled -down upon the souls of the gillies. In vain, morning after -morning, the men searched every quarter of the heavens -for any sign of even a couple of days' deluge to flood the -rivers and send the kelts down and bring the clean salmon -up from the sea. This wild and bleak region grew to be -like some soft summer fairyland; the blue loch and the -yellow headlands, and the far treeless stretches of moor lay -basking in the sunlight; Ben Loyal's purples and browns -were clear to the summit; Ben Clebrig's snows had nearly -all melted away. Nor could the discontented boatmen -understand how the two strangers should accept this state -of affairs with apparent equanimity. Both were now -provided with a book; and when the rods had been -properly set so as to be ready for any emergency, they -could pass the time pleasantly enough in this perfect -stillness, gliding over the smooth waters, and drinking in -the sweet mountain air. As for Miss Carry, she had -again attacked the first volume of Gibbon—for she would -hot be beaten; and very startling indeed it was when a -fish did happen to strike the minnow, to be so suddenly -summoned back from Palmyra to this Highland loch. In -perfect silence, with eyes and attention all absented, she -would be reading thus—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'</span><em class="italics">When the Syrian queen was brought into the presence of -Aurelian, he sternly asked her, how she had presumed to rise -in arms against the Emperor of Rome? The answer of -Zenobia was a prudent mixture of respect and firmness</em><span>'—when -sharp would come the warning cry of Malcolm—'There -he is, Miss!—there he is!'—and she would dash -down the historian to find the rod being violently shaken -and the reel screaming out its joyous note. Moreover, in -this still weather, the unusual visitor not unfrequently -brought some other element of surprise with him. She -acquired a considerable experience of the different forms of -foul-hooking and of the odd manoeuvres of the fish in such -circumstances. On one occasion the salmon caught himself -on the minnow by his dorsal fin; and for over an hour -contented himself with rolling about under water without -once showing himself, and with such a strain that she -thought he must be the champion fish of the lake: when -at last they did get him into the boat he was found to be a -trifle under ten pounds. But, taken altogether, this cultivation -of literature, varied by an occasional 'fluke' of a capture, -and these placid and dreamlike mornings and afternoons, -were far from being as satisfactory as the former and wilder -days when Ronald was in the boat, even with all their -discomforts of wind and rain and snow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time she had acquired another grievance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why did you let him go, pappa, without a single word?' -she would say, as they sate over their books or newspapers -in the evening. 'It was my only chance. You could -easily have introduced yourself to him by speaking of the -shooting——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You know very well, Carry,' he would answer—trying -to draw her into the fields of common sense—'I can say -nothing about that till I see how mother's health is.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I am sure she would say yes if she saw what the place -has done for you, pappa; salmon-fishing has proved better -for you than bromide of potassium. But that's not the -trouble at all. Why did you let him go? Why did you -let him spend the evening at the Doctor's?—and the next -morning he went about the whole time with Ronald! My -only chance of spurning a lord, too. Do they kneel in -this country, pappa, when they make their declaration; or -is that only in plays? Never mind; it would be all the -same. "No, my lord; the daughter of a free Republic -cannot wed a relic of feudalism; farewell, my lord, farewell! -I know that you are heart-broken for life; but the daughter -of a free Republic must be true to her manifest destiny."'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, be quiet!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And then the girls at home, when I got back, they -would all have come crowding around: "Do tell, now, did -you get a British nobleman to propose, Carry?" "What -do you imagine I went to Europe for?" "And you -rejected him?" "You bet your pile on that. Why, -you should have seen him writhe on the floor when I -spurned him! I spurned him, I tell you I did—the -daughter of a free Republic"——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Will you be quiet!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But it was really too bad, pappa!' she protested. -'There he was lounging around all the morning. And all -I heard him say was when he was just going—when he was -on the mail-car, "Ronald," he called out, "have you got a -match about you?"—and he had a wooden pipe in his -hand. And that's all I know about the manners and -conversation of the British nobility; and what will they -say of me at home?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'When does Ronald go?' he would ask; and this, at -least, was one sure way of bringing her back to the paths of -sanity and soberness; for the nearer that this departure -came, the more concerned she was about it, having some -faint consciousness that she herself had a share of the -responsibility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in another direction, moreover, she was becoming -a little anxious. No message of any kind had arrived from -the </span><em class="italics">Chicago Citizen</em><span>. Now she had written to Miss Kerfoot -before she left for Paris; her stay in the French capital -had extended to nearly three weeks; there was the space -occupied in going and returning; so that if Jack Huysen -meant to do anything with the verses it was about time -that that should appear. And the more she thought of it -the more she set her heart on it, and hoped that Ronald's -introduction to the reading public would be a flattering one -and one of which he could reasonably be proud. Her -father had it in his power to secure his material advancement; -and that was well enough; but what if it were -reserved for her to confer a far greater service on him? -For if this first modest effort were welcomed in a friendly -way, might he not be induced to put forth a volume, and -claim a wider recognition? It need not interfere with his -more practical work; and then, supposing it were -successful? Look at the status it would win for him—a thing -of far more value in the old country, where society is -gradated into ranks, than in her country, where every one -(except hotel clerks, as she insisted) was on the same plane. -He would then be the equal of anybody—even in this old -England; she had at least acquired so far a knowledge of -English society. And if he owed the first suggestion and -impulse to her?—if she were to be the means, in however -small and tentative a fashion, of his ultimately establishing -his fame? That he could do so if he tried, she never -thought of doubting. She saw him every day, and the -longer she knew him the more she was certain that the -obvious mental force that seemed to radiate from him in -the ordinary conversation and discussion of everyday life -only wanted to be put into a definite literary channel to -make its mark. And was not the time ripe for a poet? -And it was not Edinburgh, or Glasgow, or London that had -nowadays to decide on his merits, but two great continents -of English-speaking people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length came the answer to her urgent prayer—a letter -from Miss Kerfoot and a copy of the </span><em class="italics">Chicago Citizen</em><span>. -The newspaper she opened first; saw with delight that a -long notice—a very long notice indeed—had been accorded -to the verses she had sent; and with a proud heart she -put the paper in her pocket, for careful reading when she -should get down to the lake. Miss Kerfoot's letter she -glanced over; but it did not say much; the writer observed -that Mr. Jack Huysen had only seemed half pleased when -informed of Carry's extraordinary interest in the phenomenal -Scotch gamekeeper; and, referring to the article in the -</span><em class="italics">Citizen</em><span>, she said Jack Huysen had entrusted the writing of -it to Mr. G. Quincy Regan, who was, she understood, one -of the most cultured young men in Chicago, and likely to -make quite a reputation for himself ere long. There were -some other matters mentioned in this letter; but they need -not detain us here.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Carry was in very high spirits as she set forth from -the inn with her father to walk down to the boats. They -met Ronald, too, on their way; he was accompanied by the -man who was to take his place after his leaving; and Miss -Carry could not help comparing the two of them as they -came along the road. But, after all, it was not outward -appearance that made the real difference between men; it -was mental stature; she had that in her pocket which could -show to everybody how Ronald was a head and shoulders -over any of his peers. And she took but little interest in -the setting up of the rods or the selection of the minnows; -she wanted to be out on the lake, alone, in the silence, to -read line by line and word by word this introduction of her -hero to the public.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The following is the article:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'A REMARKABLE LITERARY DISCOVERY—OUR FELLOW-CITIZENS -ABROAD—ANOTHER RUSTIC POET—CHICAGO -CLAIMS HIM. It may be in the recollection of some of our -readers that a few years ago a small party of American -tourists, consisting of Curtis H. Mack, who was one of our -most distinguished major-generals in the rebellion, and is -now serving on the Indian frontier; his niece, Miss Hettie -F. Doig, a very talented lady and contributor to several of -our best periodicals; and John Grimsby Patterson, editor of -the Baltimore </span><em class="italics">Evening News</em><span>, were travelling in Europe, -when they had the good fortune to discover an Irish poet, -Patrick Milligan, who had long languished in obscurity, no -doubt the victim of British jealousy as well as of misrule. -Major-General Mack interested himself in this poor man, -and, in conjunction with William B. Stevens, of Cleveland, -Ohio, had him brought over to this country, where they -were eventually successful in obtaining for him a -postmastership in New Petersburg, Conn., leaving him to devote -such time as he pleased to the service of the tuneful nine. -Mr. Milligan's Doric reed has not piped to us much of late -years; but we must all remember the stirring verses which -he wrote on the occasion of Colonel George W. Will's -nomination for Governor of Connecticut. It has now been -reserved for another party of American travellers, still -better known to us than the above, for they are no other -than our esteemed fellow-citizen, Mr. Josiah Hodson and -his brilliant and accomplished daughter, Miss Caroline -Hodson, to make a similar discovery in the Highlands of -Scotland; and in view of such recurring instances, we may -well ask whether there be not in the mental alertness of -our newer civilisation a capacity for the detection and -recognition of intellectual merit which exists not among the -deadening influences of an older and exhausted civilisation. -It has sometimes been charged against this country that we -do not excel in arts and letters; that we are in a measure -careless of them; that political problems and material -interests occupy our mind. The present writer, at least, is -in no hurry to repel that charge, odious as it may seem to -some. We, as Americans, should remember that the -Athenian Republic, with which our western Republic has -nothing to fear in the way of comparison, when it boasted -its most lavish display of artistic and literary culture, was -no less conspicuous for its moral degeneracy and political -corruption. It was in the age of Pericles and of Phidias, of -Socrates and Sophocles, of Euripides and Aristophanes and -Thucydides, that Athens showed herself most profligate; -private licence was unbridled; justice was bought and sold; -generals incited to war that they might fill their pockets -out of the public purse; and all this spectacle in striking -contrast with the manly virtues of the rude and unlettered -kingdom of Sparta, whose envoys were laughed at because -they had not the trick of Athenian oratory and casuistry. -We say, then, that we are not anxious to repel this charge -brought against our great western Republic, that we assign -to arts and letters a secondary place; on the contrary, we -are content that the over-cultivation of these should fatten -on the decaying and effete nations of Europe, as phosphorus -shines in rotten wood.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now she had determined to read every sentence of this -article conscientiously, as something more than a mere -intellectual treat; but, as she went on, joy did not seem to -be the result. The reference to Patrick Milligan and the -postmastership in Connecticut she considered to be distinctly -impertinent; but perhaps Jack Huysen had not explained -clearly to the young gentleman all that she had written to -Emma Kerfoot? Anyhow, she thought, when he came to -Ronald's little Highland poem, he would perhaps drop his -Athenians, and talk more like a reasonable human being.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That the first strain from the new singer's lyre should -be placed at the services of the readers of the </span><em class="italics">Citizen</em><span>, we -owe to the patriotism of the well-known and charming lady -whose name we have given above; nor could the verses -have fallen into better hands. In this case there is no need -that Horace should cry to Tyndaris—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O matre pulchrâ filia pulchrior,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Quem criminosis cunque voles modum</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Pones iambis, sive flammâ</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Sive mari libet Hadriano.</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Moreover, we have received a hint that this may not be -the last piece of the kind with which we may be favoured; -so that we have again to thank our fair fellow-townswoman -for her kindly attention. But lest our readers may be -growing weary of this </span><em class="italics">prolegomenon</em><span>, we will at once quote -this latest utterance of the Scottish muse which has come -to us under such favourable auspices:'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here followed Ronald's poor verses, that perhaps looked -insignificant enough, after this sonorous trumpet-blaring. -The writer proceeded:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now certain qualities in this composition are so obvious -that we need hardly specify them; we give the writer credit -for simplicity, pathos, and a hearty sympathy with the -victims of the tyrannical greed of the chase-loving British -landlord. But it is with no intent of looking a gift-horse -in the mouth (which would be a poor return for the -courtesy of the lady who has interested herself in the rustic -bard) if we proceed to resolve this piece into its elements, -that we may the more accurately cast the horoscope of this -new applicant for the public applause. To begin with, the -sentiment of nostalgia is but a slender backbone for any -work of literary art. In almost every case it is itself a -fallacy. What were the conditions under which these -people—arbitrarily and tyrannically, it may have been—were -forced away from their homes? Either they were -bad agriculturists or the land was too poor to support them; -and in either case their transference to a more generous -soil could be nothing but a benefit to them. Their life -must have been full of privations and cares. </span><em class="italics">Forsan et haec -olim meminisse juvabit</em><span>; but the pleasure ought to lie in -thinking of the escape; so that we maintain that to base -any piece of literary work on such a false sentiment as -nostalgia is seen to be, leads us to suspect the </span><em class="italics">veracity</em><span> of -the writer and calls upon us to be on our guard. Moreover, -we maintain that it is of the essence of pastoral and -idyllic poetry to be cheerful and jocund; and it is to be -observed that sadness prevails in poetry only when a nation -has passed its youth and becomes saturated with the regret -of old age. We prefer the stories told</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Where Corydon and Thyrsis met</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Are at their savoury dinner set;</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>and the lyrist when he sings</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Dulce loquentem;</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>and we hold that when the poets of a nation are permeated -by a lackadaisical sentiment—when they have the candour -to style themselves the idle singers of an empty day—when -the burden of their song is regret and weariness and a -lamentation over former joys—then it is time for such -poets and the nation they represent to take a back seat in -the lecture halls of literature, and give way to the newer -and stronger race that is bound to dominate the future.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She read no farther; and it is a great pity that she did -not; for the writer by and by went on to say some very nice -things about these unlucky verses; and even hinted that -here was a man who might be benefited by coming to stay -in Chicago,—'the future capital of the future empire of the -world,'—and by having his eyes opened as to the rate of -progress possible in these modern days; and wound up -with a most elaborate compliment to the intellectual -perspicacity and judgment of Miss Carry herself. She did -not read beyond what is quoted above for the simple reason -that she was in a most violent rage, and also extremely -mortified with herself for being so vexed. She tore the -newspaper into shreds, and crushed these together, and -flung them into the bottom of the boat. Her cheeks were -quite pale; her eyes burning; and through all the anger of -her disappointment ran the shame of the consciousness that -it was she who had exposed Ronald to this insult. What -though he should never know anything about it? Her -friends in Chicago would know. And it was the man whom -she wanted to glorify and make a hero of who had, through -her instrumentality, been subjected to the pedantic criticism, -the pretentious analyses, and, worst of all, the insulting -patronage of this unspeakable ass. Suddenly she regretted -the destruction of the newspaper; she would like to have -looked at it again, to justify her wrath. No matter; she -could remember enough; and she would not forget Jack -Huysen's share in this transaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was very silent and reserved at lunch time; and -her father began to believe that, after all, in spite of her -repeated assurances, their ill-luck with the fishing was -weighing on her spirits.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You know, Carry,' said he, 'it is not in the nature of -things that weather like this can last in the Highlands of -Scotland. It is notoriously one of the wettest places in the -world. There </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> be rain coming soon; and then think -of all the fish that will be rushing up in shoals, and what a -time we shall have.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I am not disappointed with the fishing at all, pappa,' -she said. 'I think we have done very well.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What is the matter, then?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, nothing.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then she said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, I will tell you, pappa. I asked Jack Huysen to -do me a very particular favour; and he did not do it; and -when I next see Jack Huysen, I think he will find it a very -cold day.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words were mysterious; but the tone was enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And all the afternoon she sate in the stern of the coble -and brooded, composing imaginary letters to the editor -of the </span><em class="italics">New York Herald</em><span>, to the editor of the </span><em class="italics">Nation</em><span>, to -the editor of the Chicago </span><em class="italics">Tribune</em><span>, to the editor of </span><em class="italics">Puck</em><span>, -and a great many other journals, all of these phantom -epistles beginning 'As an American girl I appeal to you,' -and proceeding to beg of the editor to hold up to merciless -scorn a certain feeble, shallow, and impertinent article -(herewith enclosed) which had appeared in the </span><em class="italics">Chicago -Citizen</em><span>. And on the way home, too, in the evening, she -began to question her father as to his personal acquaintance -with editors and journalists, which seemed to be of the -slightest; and she at length admitted that she wanted some -one to reply—and sharply—to an article that had been -written about a friend of hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You let that alone,' her father said. 'It's not very -easy for any one to meddle in the politics of our country -without coming out more or less tattooed; for they don't -mind what they say about you; and you are very well to -be out of it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It isn't politics at all,' she said. 'And—and—the -article is written about a friend of mine—and—I want to -have the writer told what a fool he is.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But probably he would not believe it,' her father said -quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He would see that some one else believed it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I am not sure that that would hurt him much,' was the -unsatisfactory answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they drew near to Inver-Mudal she found herself -quite afraid and ashamed at the thought of their possibly -meeting Ronald. Had she not betrayed him? He had -sought for no recognition; probably he was too proud or -too manly and careless about what any one might write of -him; it was she who had put him into that suppliant -attitude, and brought upon him the insolent encouragement of -a microcephalous fool. This was the return she had made -him for all his kindness to her father and to herself. Why, -he had told her to burn the verses! And to think that she -should have been the means of submitting them to the -scrutiny and patronage of this jackanapes—and that -Mr. J. C. Huysen should as good as say 'Well, this is what we -think of your prodigy'—all this was near bringing tears of -rage to her eyes. For Miss Carry, it must be repeated, was -'a real good fellow,' and very loyal to her friends, and -impatient of injustice done them; and perhaps, unconsciously -to herself, she may have felt some of the consternation -of the wild animal whose duty it is to protect her mate -with her superior feminine watchfulness, and who, through -neglect or carelessness, allows the destroyer to come in and -slay. In any case, it certainly promised to be 'a very cold -day' for Mr. Jack Huysen when these two should meet in -Chicago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That night, after dinner, father and daughter went out -for a stroll; for by this time the moon was drawing to its -full again; and all the world lay peaceful and silent in the -wan clear light. They had not emerged from the trees in -front of the inn on to the white pathway of the road when -a sound in the distance caught Miss Carry's ears, and -instantly she touched her father's arm and drew him back -into the shadow. She wanted to hear what song this was -that Ronald was singing on his homeward way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first she could make out nothing but fragments of -the air—clear and soft and distant—</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 79%" id="figure-19"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Music fragment" src="images/img-080a.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Music fragment</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>but as he drew nearer the words become more distinct:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>And kiss'd her ripe ros-es, and blest her black e'e;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>And aye since whene'er we meet, sing, for the sound is sweet,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>"I was a-sleep but ye've wak-en'd me.'</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 78%" id="figure-20"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Music fragment" src="images/img-080b.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Music fragment</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>So clear and penetrating and careless and joyous was -this singing!—her heart was stirred with pride as she -listened; this was not the voice of a man who would trouble -himself with any whipper-snapper criticism;—nay, she began -to wonder that she had wasted so much indignation on so -trivial a thing. Then there was a sudden silence, except -for his footfall; and presently the dark figure appeared out -there on the white road—his shadow a sharp black in front -of him, the little terrier trotting behind him—and in a -minute or so the long swinging stride had carried him past -their ambush on his homeward way to the cottage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What a splendid voice that fellow has got!' her father -said, as they also now went out on to the white highway, -and took the opposite direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He seems to be very well contented with himself,' she -said, rather absently.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-last-day-on-the-loch"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Ronald came down to the loch-side the next morning just -as she was about to get into the coble—her father having -started a few minutes before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I hear you have not been doing very well with the fishing,' -said he, in that brisk, business-like fashion of his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The salmon appear to have gone away somewhere,' she -replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, but that will never do,' said he cheerfully. 'We -must try and make some alteration.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took the key of the kennels from his pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Here, Johnnie lad, ye may go and take the dogs out -for a run.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was Ronald, then, coming with her? Her eyes brightened -with anticipation; there was a welcome in the look of her -face that ought to have been sufficient reward for him. -Nor had she the courage to protest—though she knew that -his time was drawing short now. As for the salmon—well, -it was not about salmon she was thinking exclusively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They say a change of gillie sometimes brings a change -of luck,' said he good-naturedly; and he began to overhaul -the tackle, substituting smaller minnows for those already -on. 'And I think we will try down at the other end of -the loch this time. We will make sure of some trout in -any case.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But it is so far away, Ronald; are you certain you can -afford the time?' she was bound, in common fairness, to ask.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh yes, I can afford the time,' said he, 'even if this -should have to be my last day on the loch. Besides, if we -do not treat you well, maybe you'll never come back.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And what is the use of our coming back, when you -won't be here?' she was on the point of saying, but she -did not say it, fortunately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they set forth, on this still summer-like day; and -they hailed the other boat in passing, and told them of their -intended voyage of exploration. Indeed their prospects of -sport at the setting out were anything but promising; the -long levels of the lake were mostly of a pale glassy blue -and white; and the little puffs of wind that stirred the -surface here and there into a shimmer of silver invariably died -down again, leaving the water to become a mirror once -more of rock and tree and hill. But she was well content. -This was an unknown world into which they were now -penetrating; and it was a good deal more beautiful than -the upper end of the lake (where the best fishing ground -was) with which they had grown so familiar. Here were -hanging woods coming right down to the water's edge; and -lofty and precipitous crags stretching away into the pale blue -sky; and winding bays and picturesque shores where the -huge boulders, green and white and yellow with lichen, and -the rich velvet moss, and the withered bracken, and the -silver-clear stems of the birch trees were all brilliant in the -sun. The only living creatures that seemed to inhabit this -strange silent region were the birds. A pair of eagles -slowly circled round and round, but at so great a height -that they were but a couple of specks which the eye was apt -to lose; black-throated divers and golden-eyed divers, -disturbed by these unusual visitors, rose from the water and -went whirring by to the upper stretches of the lake; a -hen-harrier hovered in mid-air, causing a frantic commotion -among the smaller birds beneath; the curlews, now wheeling -about in pairs, uttered their long warning whistle; the -peewits called angrily, flying zig-zag, with audible whuffing -of their soft broad wings; the brilliant little redshanks flew -like a flash along the shore, just skimming the water; and -two great wild-geese went by overhead, with loud, harsh -croak. And ever it was Ronald's keen eye that first caught -sight of them; and he would draw her attention to them; -and tell her the names of them all. And at last—as they -were coming out of one of the small glassy bays, and as he -was idly regarding the tall and rocky crags that rose above -the birchwoods—he laughed lightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye glaiket things,' said he, as if he were recognising -some old friends, 'what brings ye in among the sheep?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What is it, Ronald?' she asked—and she followed the -direction of his look towards those lofty crags, but could -make out nothing unusual.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Dinna ye see the hinds?' he said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Where—where?' she cried, in great excitement; for she -had not seen a single deer all the time of her stay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'At the edge of the brown corrie—near the sky-line. -There are three of them—dinna ye see them?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, I don't!' she said impatiently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Do ye see the two sheep?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I see two white specks—I suppose they're sheep.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well—just above them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the boat was slowly moving all this time; and -presently the gradual change in their position brought one of -the hinds clear into view on the sky-line. The beautiful -creature, with its graceful neck, small head, and upraised -ears, was evidently watching them, but with no apparent -intention of making off; and presently Miss Carry, whose -eyes were becoming better accustomed to the place, could -make out the other two hinds, one of them lying on the -grass, the other contentedly feeding, and paying no heed -whatever to the passing boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I thought you said the sheep drove them away,' she -said to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's the men and the dogs mostly,' he answered. 'Sometimes -they will come in among the sheep like that, if the -feeding tempts them. My word, that would be an easy -stalk now—if it was the season.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Very soon they found that the three hinds were no longer -in view; but there were plenty of other things to claim their -attention on this solitary voyage. What, for example, was -this great circular mass of stones standing on a projecting -promontory? These were the remains, he explained to -her, of a Pictish fort. Another, in better preservation, was -on the opposite shore; and, if she cared to visit it, she -might make her way into the hollow passages constructed -between the double line of wall, if she were not afraid of -adders, nor yet of some of the uncemented stones falling -upon her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And what are these?' she said, indicating the ruins of -certain circles formed on the hill-plateaux just above the -loch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'They're down in the Ordnance Survey as "hut-circles,"' -he said, 'but that is all I know about them.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'At all events, there must have been plenty of people -living here at one time?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose so.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, I don't think I ever saw any place in our country -looking quite so lonely as that,' she said, regarding the -voiceless solitudes of wood and hill and crag. 'Seems as -if with us there was always some one around—camping out, -or something—but I dare say in Dacotah or Idaho you -would get lonelier places than this even. Well, now, what -do they call it?' she asked, as an afterthought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What?—the strath here?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose they would call it part of Strath-Naver.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mere mention of Strath-Naver struck a chill to her -heart. It recalled to her how she had betrayed him by -sending those harmless verses across the Atlantic, and -subjecting them to the insolence of a nincompoop's patronage. -And if Ronald should ever get to know? Might not some -busybody send him a copy of the paper? These Scotch -people had so many relatives and friends all through the -States. Or perhaps his brother in Glasgow might have -some correspondent over there? She dared not look him -in the face, she felt so guilty; and once or twice she was -almost on the point of confessing everything, and begging -for his forgiveness, and getting him to promise that he -would not read the article should it ever be sent to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then it occurred to her as a very strange thing that -from the moment of Ronald's appearance that morning at -the loch-side until now she had never even given a thought -to what had caused her so much annoyance the day before. -His very presence seemed to bring with it an atmosphere -of repose and safety and self-confidence. When she had -seen him go stalking by on the previous night, she had -instantly said to herself—'Oh, that is not the kind of man -to worry about what is said of him.' And this morning, -when he came down to the boat, she had never thought of -him as a criticised and suffering poet, but as—well, as the -Ronald that all of them knew and were familiar with—self-reliant, -good-natured, masterful in his way, and ever ready -with a laugh and a song and a jest, save when there was -any young lady there, to make him a little more demure -and respectful in his manner. Ronald a disappointed -poet?—Ronald suffering agony because a two-for-a-quarter kind -of a creature out there in Chicago did not think well of -him? She ventured to lift her eyes a little. He was not -looking her way at all. He was regarding the shore -intently; and there was a quiet and humorous smile on the -hard-set, sun-tanned face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There are six—seven—blackcocks; do ye see them?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh yes; what handsome birds they are!' she said, -with a curious sense of relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay,' said he, 'the lads are very friendly amongst -themselves just now; but soon there will be wars and rumours -of wars when they begin to set up house each for himself. -There will be many a pitched battle on those knolls there. -Handsome? Ay, they're handsome enough; but handsome -is as handsome does. The blackcock is not nearly -as good a fellow as the grousecock, that stays with his -family, and protects them, and gives them the first warning -cry if there's danger. These rascals there wander off by -themselves, and leave their wives and children to get on as -they can. They're handsome—but they're ne'er-do-weels. -There's one thing: the villain has a price put on his head; -for a man would rather bring down one old cock thumping -on the grass than fill his bag with gray hens.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A disappointed poet indeed! And she was so glad to -find him talking in his usual half-bantering careless fashion -(that he should talk in any other way was only a wild -suggestion of her own conscience, struck with a qualm on the -mention of Strath-Naver) that she made many inquiries -about the habits of black game and similar creatures; and -was apparently much interested; and all the while was -vowing within herself that she would think no more of the -mortifying disappointment she had met with, but would -give up this last day on the loch wholly to such fancies and -quiet amusements as she would like to look back upon in -after hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And a very pleasant day they spent in this still, silent, -beautiful region, cut off from all of the world, as it were. -There were plenty of trout, and therefore there was plenty -of occupation; moreover, one or two good-sized sea-trout -added to the value of the basket. Nor was this solitary -district quite so untenanted as she had supposed. About -mid-day it occurred to her that she was becoming hungry -and then the wild reflection flashed on her that the lunch -was in the other boat—some eight miles away. She -confided her perplexity—her despair—to Ronald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It is my fault,' he said, with vexation very visible in -his face. 'I should have remembered. But—but—' he -added timidly—for he was not accustomed to ministering -to the wants of young ladies—'I could get ye some bread -and a drink of milk, if that would do.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What, right here?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why, nothing could be better!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were rowing the boat ashore by this time; and -when they had got to land, he leaped on to the beach, and -presently disappeared. In little more than a quarter of an -hour he was back again, bringing with him a substantial -loaf of home-made bread and a large jug of milk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well done!' she said. 'There's plenty for all of us. -Lend me your knife, Ronald.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh no,' said he, 'it's for you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And a hard fight she had of it ere she could get the -two men to accept a fair division; but she had her way in -the end; and Ronald, seeing that she was determined they -should share the milk also (she drank first, and handed the -jug to him quite as a matter of course), swiftly and stealthily -pulled off the cup from his whisky-flask, and old Malcolm -and he drank from that, pouring the milk into it from the -jug. It was a frugal picnic; but she was very happy; and -she was telling him that when he came to Chicago, and -they were showing him the beauties of Lake Michigan, -they might give him a grander luncheon than this, but none -more comfortable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the afternoon they set out for home, picking up a -few more trout by the way; and when they at length drew -near to the upper waters of the lake they found the other -boat still pursuing its unwearied round. Moreover -Mr. Hodson's strict attention to business had been rewarded -by the capture of a handsome fish of sixteen pounds; -whereas they had nothing but a miscellaneous collection -of brown and white trout. But, just as they were thinking -of going ashore, for the dusk was now coming on, a most -extraordinary piece of luck befell them. Miss Carry was -scarcely thinking of the rods when the sudden shriek of -one of the reels startled her out of her idle contemplation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Surely that is a salmon, Ronald!' she cried, as she -instantly grasped the rod and got it up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not stay to answer, for his business was to get -in the other line as fast as possible. But he had just got -this second rod into his hand when lo! there was a tugging -and another scream of a reel—there was now a salmon at -each of the lines! It was a position of the direst danger—for -a single cross rush of either of the fish must inevitably -break both off—and how were they to be kept separate, -with both rods confined to one boat? Ronald did not lose -his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Row ashore, Malcolm—row ashore, man!' he shouted—'fast -as ever ye can, man!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor did he wait until the bow had touched land; he -slipped over the edge of the boat while as yet the water -was deep enough to take him up to the waist; and away -he waded, taking the one rod with him, and slowly increasing -the distance between the two fish. By the time he got -ashore there was a hundred yards or so between them, -and he did not attempt to play this salmon at all; he gave -it plenty of law; and merely waited to see the end of Miss -Carry's struggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She hardly knew what had happened, except that Ronald's -going away had left her very nervous and excited and -helpless. How was she ever to land a fish unless he was at -her shoulder directing her? But by this time old Malcolm -had jammed the bow of the boat on to the beach, had got -in the oars, and now sate patiently waiting, clip in hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fish was not a very game one, though he was no kelt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Put a good strain on him, Miss,' said old Malcolm—who -had been taking a sly look round. 'Ronald's keeping -the other one for ye.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What do you say?' she called to him—rather breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald will be wanting ye to play the other fish too,' -said the old man. 'And a wonderful fine thing, if we can -get them both—oh yes, indeed. It is not an ordinary -thing to hook two salmon at once and land them both—I -wass neffer seeing that done except once before.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Beast!' she said, between her teeth—for the fish made -a desperate rush away out into the loch, with a magnificent -flourish in the air as a finish. But no harm was done; -indeed, it was about his last strong effort to free himself. -Yard after yard of the line was got in again; his struggles -to get away grew less and less vigorous; at last the old -Highlander made an adventurous swoop with the clip, and -was successful in landing the brilliant creature in the bottom -of the boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now, Miss,' he cried, 'leave him to me—leave him to -me. Quick, get ashore, and try for the other one. And -will you take the clip?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was greatly excited by this unusual adventure; and -so was she—and breathless, moreover; but she managed -to do as she was bid. She got rather wet in getting ashore; -for Ronald was not there to help her; but she had no time -to mind that; she made her way as rapidly as she could -along the bank, and there was Ronald awaiting her, with a -quiet smile on his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'This is better work,' said he placidly, as he gave her -the rod.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was anxious no longer; she was triumphant. Ronald -was with her; of course she would get this one also. And -who but Ronald would have brought such a stroke of luck -to the boat?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I would get in some of the line now,' said he calmly. -'I have been letting him do as he liked; and he is a long -way out. And mind, you'll have to watch him; he is quite -fresh; there has been no fighting at all yet.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, Ronald,' she said, with the pretty pale face grown -quite rosy with the excitement and the hard work, 'won't -it be just too splendid for anything if we can get them both!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I hope ye may,' he said, 'for it's not likely to happen -again in your lifetime.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fish now began to rebel against the new strain that -was being put on him, and indulged in a variety of audacious -cantrips—apparently at a considerable distance out. By -this time the other boat was also ashore, and Miss Carry's -father came along to see how Ronald's pupil could play a -salmon. Just as he drew near, there was a pretty lively -scrimmage going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Why, you want to have them all,' he complained. 'It -is not fair sport to bag a brace of salmon right and left.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not answer—in fact, she could not; she had -enough to do. For now the salmon seemed wanting to -get right out to the middle of the lake; and the length of -line that lay between her and her enemy dragged heavily -on her arms. And then he altered his tactics—coming -rapidly to the surface and trying to break the suddenly -slackened line by furious lashings of his tail. But all this -was in vain; and now, as he seemed yielding a little, she -put a heavier strain on him, and began to reel up. It was -very well done, and without a word of admonition; for -Ronald was proud of his pupil, and wished to show that he -could leave her to herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by the fish began to show himself a little more -amenable, and preparations were made for receiving him -on shore. Miss Carry stepped back a few yards; her -father got out of the way altogether; Ronald crouched -down, clip in hand. Of course, when the salmon found -himself being guided into the shallows, he was off like a -bolt; and again and again he repeated these sullen rushes; -but each time they were growing weaker; and at last, as -the gleam of something white showed in the water, Ronald -made a sudden plunge with the clip—and the salmon was -ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose this will be my last day on the loch, and a -very good finish it is.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men brought along the other fish, and these were -all laid out on the grass side by side, though it was now -too dark to see much of them. As regards the three -salmon, Mr. Hodson's, on being accurately weighed, was -found to be sixteen and a half pounds, Miss Carry's two -respectively fourteen pounds and eleven pounds. She was -a very happy young woman as she walked home with her -father and Ronald through the now rapidly gathering dusk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His last day on the lake:—well, it would be something -pleasant to look back upon in after times—the summer-like -weather, the still water, the silent and sunlit crags and woods -and bays. And perhaps, too, he would remember something -of her bright society, her friendly disposition, and the -frank good-comradeship with which she shared her meal of -milk and bread with two common boatmen. Nay, he could -not well help remembering that—and with a touch of -gratitude and kindness, too—even though they should never -meet again through the long years of life.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-parting"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE PARTING.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Now amid all his preparations for departure nothing -distressed him so much as the difficulty he found in trying to -write something worthy of being placed in Meenie's book. -It was to be his last gift to her; she herself had asked for -it; surely he ought to do his best? And perhaps it was -this very anxiety that baffled him. Even of such small -lyrical faculty as he possessed, he was in no sense the -master. He could write easily enough at the instigation -of some passing fancy; but the fancy had to come uncalled-for; -it was not of his summoning. And now, in this hour -of direst need, no kindly Ariel would come to help him. -Walking across the lonely moors, with the dogs for his sole -companions, or lying on a far hillside, and tearing twigs of -heather with his teeth, he worried his brain for a subject, -and all to no purpose. Perhaps, if praise of Meenie had -been permissible—if he could have dared to write anything -about herself in her own book—he might have found the -task more easy; for that was the one direction in which -his imagination was always facile enough. One morning, -indeed, when he was coming down the Clebrig slopes, he -saw Miss Carry and Meenie walking together along the -road; and he had not much difficulty in shaping out some -such verses as these—jingling the rhymes together without -much concern about the sense, and then scribbling the -result on the back of an envelope to see how it looked:</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">By Mudal's river she idly strayed,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And drank afresh the morning breeze:</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Tell me, you beautiful dark-eyed maid,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That's come across the Atlantic seas—</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">See you our winsome Sutherland flower,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Her cheek the tint of the summer rose,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Her gold-brown hair her only dower,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Her soul as white as Ben Clebrig's snows;</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Blue as the ruffled loch her eyes,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Sweet her breath as the blossoming heather:</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O do you think the whole world's skies</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Can see aught fairer than you together?</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Sisters twain—one slender and dark,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Her cheek faint-tanned by the tropic south;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">One northern bred, her voice like a lark,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The joy of the hills in her gladsome youth.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ben Clebrig shall judge—nay, shall keep the two,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And bind them in chains of love for ever;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Look to it, Clebrig; guard them true:</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Sisters twain—and why should they sever?</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But even here there was a false note; and he knew it. -Perhaps he was vaguely jealous of any alien interference: -was not Meenie the sole and only care of the giant -mountain? Anyhow, the verses were of no avail for -Meenie's book; and otherwise he did not care for them; -so the envelope was crumpled up and thrown away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the evening before the brother and sister were to -leave for the south, Meenie came along to see them. -Ronald had got quite accustomed to find Miss Douglas in -the house of late; for Maggie needed a good deal of -direction and help—the tearful little lass being sorely -distraught at the thought of going away. But on this -occasion it was himself she had come to seek.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I have made a little drawing for you, Ronald,' said she—and -the beautiful Highland eyes were downcast a little—'as -well as I could, of the loch and the hills and the -river; and I want you to take it to Glasgow with you, and -put it on the mantelpiece of your room, and then sometimes -it will make you think of the old place and of us all.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm sure, it will not need a picture to make me do that,' -said he, 'but all the same I am obliged to ye, and it will -be the chief treasure in the house——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh no, oh no,' she said, with a rueful smile—and -she ventured to raise her eyes. 'You must not think it a -picture at all—but only a few lines scribbled on a -paper-knife to make you remember the place when you happen -to find it lying about. And you must not look at it until -I have gone, because you would feel bound to praise it; -and that would be as awkward for you as for me—for -indeed it is nothing at all. And here,' she added, producing -a small slip of paper, 'is my sister's address in Glasgow; -and I have written to her; and she will be very glad if you -will call on them when you have the time.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I don't know how to thank ye,' said he. 'It's when -people are going away that they find out how many friends -they are leaving behind.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'In your case' said she, very modestly and prettily, 'it -is not difficult to count—you have only to say the whole -country-side.' And then she added: 'I heard of the lads -that came all the way from Tongue.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The wild fellows!—they had a long tramp here and -back home again.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him rather hesitatingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There will be a great many coming to see you off -to-morrow morning, Ronald,' she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I should think not—I should think not,' he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, but I know there will be. Every one is talking of -it. And I was thinking—if it was not too much trouble—if -you were not too busy—I was wondering if you would -come along and say good-bye to my father and mother this -evening—I would rather have that than—than—with a -crowd of people standing by——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh yes, certainly,' he said, at once. 'When will I -come? Now, if ye like.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And Maggie too?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, yes, why not?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And about my album, Ronald?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well,' said he, with not a little embarrassment, 'I have -not written anything in it yet; but I will give it to you in -the morning; and—and if there's nothing in it, then ye -must just understand that I could not get anything good -enough, and I will send something from Glasgow——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Indeed no,' said she promptly. 'Why should you -trouble about a thing like that? Write your name in the -book, Ronald, and that will be enough.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three of them now went outside, and the door was -shut behind them. It was a beautiful night; the moon -was slowly rising over the solitudes of Strath-Terry; and -the lake was like a sheet of silver. They were rather -silent as they walked along the gray highway; to-morrow -was to make a difference to all of their lives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they reached the Doctor's cottage, and when -Ronald and Maggie were ushered into the parlour, it was -clear that the visit had been expected; for there was cake -on the table, and there were plates and knives, and a -decanter of sherry, and a number of wine-glasses. And -not only was the big good-humoured Doctor as friendly as -ever, but even the awe-inspiring little Dresden-china lady -condescended, in these unusual circumstances, to be gracious. -Of course the talk was all about Ronald's going away, and -his prospects in Glasgow, and so forth; and Mrs. Douglas -took care to impress him with the fact that, on the occasion -of Lord Ailine having recently spent an evening with them, -his lordship had distinctly approved of the step Ronald -had taken, and hoped it might turn out well in every way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Will there be any office work, Ronald?' the Doctor asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose so, for a time.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You'll not like that, my lad.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll have to take what comes, like other folk,' was the -simple answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How pretty Meenie was on this last evening! She did -not say much; and she hardly ever looked at him; but -her presence, then as ever, seemed to bring with it an -atmosphere of gentleness and sweetness; and when, by -chance, she did happen to regard him, there was a kind of -magic wonder in her eyes that for the moment rather -bedazzled him and made his answers to these good people's -inquiries somewhat inconsecutive. For they were curious -to know about his plans and schemes; and showed much -interest in his welfare; while all the time he sate thinking -of how strange Glasgow would be without the chance of -catching a glimpse of Meenie anywhere; and wondering -whether his dream-sweetheart—the imaginary Meenie whom -he courted and wooed and won in these idle verses of -his—would be nearer to him there, or would fade gradually -away and finally disappear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'In any case, Ronald,' said Mrs. Douglas—and she -thus addressed him for the first time, 'you have a good -friend in his lordship.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I know that.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose I am breaking no confidence,' continued -the little dame, in her grand way, 'in saying that he plainly -intimated to us his willingness, supposing that you were -not as successful as we all hope you may be—I say, his -lordship plainly intimated to us that he would always have -a place open for you somewhere.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Yes, I think he would do that,' Ronald said; 'but -when a man has once put his hand to the plough he must -not go back.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And perhaps, for one feeble moment of indecision, he -asked himself what had ever tempted him to put his hand -to the plough, and to go away from this quiet security -and friendliness and peace. But it was only for a moment. -Of course, all that had been argued out before. The step -had been taken; forwards, and not backwards, he must go. -Still, to be sitting in this quiet little room—with the strange -consciousness that Meenie was so near—watching the -nimble, small fingers busy with her knitting—and wondering -when she would raise those beautiful, deep, tender, clear -eyes; and to think that on the morrow hour after hour -would be placing a greater and greater distance between -him and the possibility of any such another evening—nay, -that it was not only miles but years, and perhaps a -whole lifetime, that he was placing between her and -him—that was no joyful kind of a fancy. If it had been Meenie -who was going away, that would have been easier to bear.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Call her back, Clebrig; Mudal, call;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ere all of the young springtime be flown'</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>he would have cried to hill and river and loch and glen, -knowing that sooner or later Love Meenie would come -back from Glasgow Town. But his own going away was -very different—and perhaps a final thing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by he rose, and begged to be excused. Maggie -might stay for a while longer with Miss Douglas, if she -liked; as for him, he had some matters to attend to. -And so they bade him good-bye, and wished him well, -and hoped to hear all good things of him. Thus they -parted; and he went out by himself into the clear -moonlight night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he did not go home. A strange unrest and longing -had seized him; a desire to be alone with the silence of -the night; perhaps some angry impatience that he could -not make out so much as a few trivial verses for this -beautiful girl-friend whom he might never see again. He -could write about his dream-sweetheart easily enough; and -was there to be never a word for Meenie herself? So he -walked down to the river; and wandered along the winding -and marshy banks—startling many wildfowl the while—until -he reached the lake. There he launched one of the -cobles, and pulled out to the middle of the still sheet of -water; and took the oars in again. By this time the -redshank and curlews and plover had quieted down once -more; there was a deadly stillness all around; and he had -persuaded himself that he had only come to have a last -look at the hills and the loch and the moorland wastes -that Meenie had made magical for him in the years now -left behind; and to bid farewell to these; and carry away -in his memory a beautiful picture of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a lonely and a silent world. There was not a -sound save the distant murmur of a stream; no breath of -wind came down from the Clebrig slopes to ruffle the broad -silver sweeps of moonlight on the water; the tiny hamlet -half hidden among the trees gave no sign of life. The -cottage he had left—the white front of it now palely clear -in the distance—seemed a ghostly thing: a small, solitary, -forsaken thing, in the midst of this vast amphitheatre of -hills that stood in awful commune with the stars. On such -a night the wide and vacant spaces can readily become -peopled; phantoms issue from the shadows of the woods -and grow white in the open; an unknown wind may arise, -bringing with it strange singing from the northern seas. -And if he forgot the immediate purpose of the verses that -he wanted; if he forgot that he must not mention the -name of Meenie; if he saw only the little cottage, and the -moonlit loch, and the giant bulk of Clebrig that was keeping -guard over the sleeping hamlet, and watching that no sprites -or spectres should work their evil charms within reach of -Meenie's half-listening ear—well, it was all a fire in his blood -and his brain, and he could not stay to consider. The -phantom-world was revealed; the silence now was filled as -with a cry from the lone seas of the far north; and, all -impatient and eager and half bewildered, he seemed to -press forward to seize those visions and that weird music -ere both should vanish and be mute:—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The moonlight lies on Loch Naver,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the night is strange and still;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the stars are twinkling coldly</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Above the Clebrig hill.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And there by the side of the water,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O what strange shapes are these!</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O these are the wild witch-maidens</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Down from the northern seas.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And they stand in a magic circle,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Pale in the moonlight sheen;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And each has over her forehead</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A star of golden green.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O what is their song?—of sailors</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That never again shall sail;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the music sounds like the sobbing</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And sighing that brings a gale.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But who is she who comes yonder?—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And all in white is she;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And her eyes are open, but nothing</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Of the outward world can she see.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O haste you back, Meenie, haste you,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And haste to your bed again;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For these are the wild witch-maidens</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Down from the northern main.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">They open the magic circle;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">They draw her into the ring;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">They kneel before her, and slowly</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A strange, sad song they sing—</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A strange, sad song—as of sailors</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That never again shall sail;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the music sounds like the sobbing</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And sighing that brings a gale.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O haste you back, Meenie, haste you,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And haste to your bed again;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For these are the wild witch-maidens</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Down from the northern main.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'O come with us, rose-white Meenie,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To our sea-halls draped with green:</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O come with us, rose-white Meenie,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And be our rose-white queen!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'And you shall have robes of splendour,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">With shells and pearls bestrewn;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And a sceptre olden and golden,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And a rose-white coral throne.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'And by day you will hear the music</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Of the ocean come nigher and nigher:</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And by night you will see your palace</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ablaze with phosphor fire.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'O come with us, rose-white Meenie,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To our sea-halls draped with green;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O come with us, rose-white Meenie,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And be our rose-white queen!'</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But Clebrig heard; and the thunder</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Down from his iron hand sped;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the band of the wild witch-maidens</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">One swift shriek uttered, and fled.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And Meenie awoke, and terror</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And wonder were in her eyes;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And she looked at the moon-white valley,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And she looked to the starlit skies.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O haste you back, Meenie, haste you,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And haste to your bed again;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For these are the wild witch-maidens</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Down from the northern main.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O hear you not yet their singing</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Come faintly back on the breeze?—</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The song of the wild witch-sisters</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">As they fly to the Iceland seas.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O hark—'tis a sound like the sobbing</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And sighing that brings a gale:</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A low, sad song—as of sailors</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That never again shall sail!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Slowly he pulled in to the shore again, and fastened up -the boat; and slowly he walked away through the silent -and moonlit landscape, revolving these verses in his mind, -but not trying in the least to estimate their value, supposing -them to have any at all. Even when he had got home, and -in the stillness of his own room—for by this time Maggie -had gone to bed—was writing out the lines, with apparent -ease enough, on a large sheet of paper, it was with no kind -of critical doubt or anxiety. He could not have written -them otherwise; probably he knew he was not likely to -make them any better by over-refining them. And the -reason why he put them down on the large sheet of paper -was that Meenie's name occurred in them; and she might -not like that familiarity to appear in her album; he would -fold the sheet of paper and place it in the book, and she -could let it remain there or burn it as she chose. And -then he went and had his supper, which Maggie had left -warm by the fire, and thereafter lit a pipe—or rather two -or three pipes, as it befel, for this was the last night before -his leaving Inver-Mudal, and there were many dreams and -reveries (and even fantastic possibilities) to be dismissed for -ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next morning, of course, there was no time or room -for poetic fancies. When he had got Maggie to take along -the little book to the Doctor's cottage, he set about making -his final preparations, and here he was assisted by his -successor, one Peter Munro. Finally he went to say -good-bye to the dogs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good-bye, doggies, good-bye,' said he, as they came -bounding to the front of the kennel, pawing at him through -the wooden bars, and barking and whining, and trying to -lick his hand. 'Good-bye, Bess! Good-bye, Lugar—lad, -lad, we've had many a day on the hill together.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then he turned sharply to his companion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye'll not forget what I told you about that dog, Peter?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I will not,' said the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If I thought that dog was not to be looked after, I -would get out my rifle this very minute and put a bullet -through his head—though it would cost me £7. Mind -what I've told ye now; if he's not fed separate, he'll starve; -he's that gentle and shy that he'll not go near the trough -when the others are feeding. And a single cross word on -the hill will spoil him for the day—mind you tell any strange -gentlemen that come up with his lordship—some o' them -keep roaring at dogs as if they were bull-calves. There's -not a better setter in the county of Sutherland than that -old Lugar—but he wants civil treatment.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll look after him, never fear, Ronald,' his companion -said. 'And now come away, man. Ye've seen to everything; -and the mail-gig will be here in half an hour.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ronald was still patting the dogs' heads, and talking to -them—he seemed loth to leave them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come away, man,' his companion urged. 'All the lads -are at the inn, and they want to have a parting glass with you. -Your sister and every one is there, and everything is ready.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Very well,' said he, and he turned away rather moodily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when they were descended from the little plateau -into the highway he saw that Meenie Douglas was coming -along the road—and rather quickly; and for a minute he -hesitated, lest she should have some message for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, Ronald,' she said, and he hardly noticed that her -face was rather pale and anxious, 'I wanted to thank -you—I could not let you go away without thanking you—it—it -is so beautiful——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I should beg your pardon,' said he, with his eyes cast -down, 'for making use of your short name——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But, Ronald,' she said very bravely (though after a -moment's hesitation, as if she had to nerve herself), -'whenever you think of any of us here, I hope you will think of -me by that name always—and now, good-bye!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lifted his eyes to hers for but a second—for but a -second only, and yet, perhaps, with some sudden and -unforeseen and farewell message on his part, and on hers some -swift and not overglad guessing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good-bye!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They shook hands in silence, and then she turned and -went away; and he rejoined his companion and then they -went on together. But Meenie did not re-enter the cottage. -She stole away down to the river, and lingered by the bridge, -listening. For there were faint sounds audible in the still -morning air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mail-cart from the north came rattling along, and -crossed the bridge, and went on towards the inn, and again -there was silence, but for these faint sounds. And now -she could make out the thin echoes of the pipes—no doubt -one of the young lads was playing—</span><em class="italics">Lochiel's away to -France</em><span>, perhaps, or </span><em class="italics">A Thousand Blessings</em><span>, for surely no -one, on such an occasion, would think of </span><em class="italics">Macrimmon's -Lament</em><span>—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Macrimmon shall no more return</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Oh! never, never more return!'</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It would be something joyous they were playing there to -speed him on his way; and the 'drink at the door'—the -</span><em class="italics">Deoch an Dhoruis</em><span>—would be going the round; and many -would be the hand-shaking and farewell. And then, by -and by, as she sate there all alone and listening, she heard -a faint sound of cheering—and that was repeated, in a -straggling sort of fashion; and thereafter there was silence. -The mail-cart had driven away for the south.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor even now did she go back to the cottage. She -wandered away through the wild moorland wastes—hour -after hour, and aimlessly; and when, by chance, a shepherd -or crofter came along the road, she left the highway and -went aside among the heather, pretending to seek for wild-flowers -or the like: for sometimes, if not always, there was -that in the beautiful, tender Highland eyes which she would -have no stranger see.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="southwards"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SOUTHWARDS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As for him, it was a sufficiently joyous departure; for some -of the lads about were bent on accompanying him on the -mail-car as far as Lairg; and they took with them John -Macalpine and his weather-worn pipes to cheer them by -the way; and at Crask they each and all of them had a -glass of whisky; and on the platform at Lairg railway-station -the clamour of farewell was great. And even when -he had got quit of that noisy crew, and was in the -third-class compartment, and thundering away to the south, his -thoughts and fancies were eager and ardent and glad -enough; and his brain was busy with pictures; and these -were altogether of a joyful and hopeful kind. Already he -saw himself on that wide estate—somewhere or other in -the Highlands he fondly trusted; draining and planting -and enclosing here; there pruning and thinning and -felling; manufacturing charcoal and tar; planning temporary -roads and bridges; stacking bark and faggots; or discussing -with the head-keeper as to the desirability or non-desirability -of reintroducing capercailzie. And if the young American -lady and her father should chance to come that way, would -he not have pleasure and pride in showing them over the -place?—nay, his thoughts went farther afield, and he saw -before him Chicago, with its masts and its mighty lake, and -himself not without a friendly grip of welcome on getting -there. As for Meenie, where would she be in those coming -and golden and as yet distant days? Far away from him, -no doubt; and what else could he expect?—for now he -saw her among the fine folk assembled at the shooting-lodge -in Glengask—and charming all of them with her -sweet and serious beauty and her gentle ways—and again -he pictured her seated on the white deck of Sir Alexander's -yacht, a soft south wind filling the sails, and the happy -gray-blue Highland eyes looking forward contentedly enough -to the yellow line of the Orosay shore. That was to be -her future—fair and shining; for always he had associated -Meenie with beautiful things—roses, the clear tints of the -dawn, the singing of a lark in the blue; and who could -doubt that her life would continue so, through these bright -and freshly-coming years?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, it was a glad enough departure for him; for he -was busy and eager, and only anxious to set to work at -once. But by and by, when the first novelty and -excitement of the travelling was beginning to wear off, he -suddenly discovered that the little Maggie, seated in the -corner there, was stealthily crying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What, what, lass?' said he cheerfully. 'What is it now?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not answer; and so he had to set to work to -comfort her; making light of the change; painting in -glowing colours all that lay before them; and promising -that she should write to Miss Douglas a complete account -of all her adventures in the great city. He was not very -successful, for the little lass was sorely grieved over the -parting from the few friends she had in the world; but at -least it was an occupation; and perhaps in convincing her -he was likewise convincing himself that all was for the best, -and proving that people should be well content to leave -the monotony and dulness of a Highland village for the -wide opportunities of Glasgow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But even he, with all his eager hopes and ambitions, -was chilled to the heart when at last they drew near to the -giant town. They had spent the night in Inverness, for he -had some business to transact there on behalf of Lord -Ailine; and now it was afternoon—an afternoon dull and -dismal, with an east wind blowing that made even the -outlying landscape they had come through dreary and -hopeless. Then, as they got nearer to the city, such -suggestions of the country as still remained grew more and -more grim; there were patches of sour-looking grass -surrounded by damp stone walls; gaunt buildings -soot-begrimed and gloomy; and an ever-increasing blue-gray -mist pierced by tall chimneys that were almost spectral in -the dulled light. He had been to Glasgow before, but -chiefly on one or two swift errands connected with guns -and game and fishing-rods; and he did not remember -having found it so very melancholy-looking a place as this -was. He was rather silent as he got ready for leaving the -train.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found his brother Andrew awaiting them; and he -had engaged a cab, for a slight drizzle had begun. -Moreover, he said he had secured for Ronald a lodging right -opposite the station; and thither the younger brother -forthwith transferred his things; then he came down the -hollow-resounding stone stair again, and got into the cab, -and set out for the Reverend Andrew's house, which was -on the south side of the city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And what a fierce and roaring Maelstrom was this into -which they now were plunged! The dusky crowds of -people, the melancholy masses of dark-hued buildings, the -grimy flagstones, all seemed more or less phantasmal -through the gray veil of mist and smoke; but always there -arose the harsh and strident rattle of the tram-cars and the -waggons and carts—a confused, commingled, unending -din that seemed to fill the brain somehow and bewilder -one. It appeared a terrible place this, with its cold gray -streets and hazy skies, and its drizzle of rain; when, in -course of time, they crossed a wide bridge, and caught a -glimpse of the river and the masts and funnels of some -ships and steamers, these were all ghost-like in the thin, -ubiquitous fog. Ronald did not talk much, for the -unceasing turmoil perplexed and confused him; and so the stout, -phlegmatic minister, whose bilious-hued face and gray eyes -were far from being unkindly in their expression, addressed -himself mostly to the little Maggie, and said that Rosina -and Alexandra and Esther and their brother James were -all highly pleased that she was coming to stay with them, -and also assured her that Glasgow did not always look so -dull and miserable as it did then.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length they stopped in front of a house in a long, -unlovely, neutral-tinted street; and presently two rather -weedy-looking girls, who turned out to be Rosina and -Alexandra, were at the door, ready to receive the -new-comers. Of course it was Maggie who claimed their first -attention; and she was carried off to her own quarters to -remove the stains of travel (and of tears) from her face; as -for Ronald, he was ushered at once into the parlour, where -his sister-in-law—a tall, thin woman, with a lachrymose -face, but with sufficiently watchful eyes—greeted him in a -melancholy way, and sighed, and introduced him to the -company. That consisted of a Mr. M'Lachlan—a large, -pompous-looking person, with a gray face and short-cropped -white hair, whose cool stare of observation and -lofty smile of patronage instantly made Ronald say to -himself, 'My good friend, we shall have to put you into your -proper place;' Mrs. M'Lachlan, an insignificant woman, -dowdily dressed; and finally, Mr. Weems, a little, old, -withered man, with a timid and appealing look coming -from under bushy black eyebrows—though the rest of his -hair was gray. This Mr. Weems, as Ronald knew, was in -a kind of fashion to become his coach. The poor old -man had been half-killed in a railway-accident; had thus -been driven from active duty; and now, with a shattered -constitution and a nervous system all gone to bits, managed -to live somehow on the interest of the compensation-sum -awarded him by the railway-company. He did not look -much of a hardy forester; but if his knowledge of land and -timber measuring and surveying, and of book-keeping and -accounts, was such as to enable him to give this stalwart -pupil a few practical lessons, so far well; and even the -moderate recompense would doubtless be a welcome -addition to his income.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now this high occasion was to be celebrated by a -'meat-tea,' for the Reverend Andrew was no stingy person, -though his wife had sighed and sighed again over the -bringing into the house of a new mouth to feed. Maggie -came downstairs, accompanied by the other members of -the family; Mr. M'Lachlan was invited to sit at his -hostess's right hand; the others of them took their seats -in due course; and the minister pronounced a long and -formal blessing, which was not without a reference or two -to the special circumstances of their being thus brought -together. And if the good man spoke apparently under -the assumption that the Deity had a particular interest in -this tea-meeting in Abbotsford Place, it was assuredly -without a thought of irreverence; to himself the occasion -was one of importance; and the way of his life led him -to have continual—and even familiar—communion with -the unseen Powers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was not Ronald's affairs that were to be the -staple of conversation at this somewhat melancholy -banquet. It very soon appeared that Mr. M'Lachlan was an -elder—and a ruling elder, unmistakably—of Andrew -Strang's church, and he had come prepared with a notable -proposal for wiping off the debt of the same.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ah'm not wan that'll gang back from his word,' he -said, in his pompous and raucous voice, and he leaned -back in his chair, and crossed his hands over his capacious -black satin waistcoat, and gazed loftily on his audience. -'Wan hundred pounds—there it is, as sure as if it was in -my pocket this meenit—and there it'll be when ye get fower -ither members o' the congregation to pit doon their fifty -pounds apiece. Not but that there's several in the church -abler than me to pit doon as much; but ye ken how it is, -Mr. Strang, the man makes the money and the woman -spends it; and there's mair than one family we ken o' -that should come forrit on an occasion like this, but that -the money rins through the fingers o' a feckless wife. -What think ye, noo, o' Mrs. Nicol setting up her powny-carriage, -and it's no nine years since Geordie had to make -a composition? And they tell me that Mrs. Paton's lasses, -when they gang doon the waiter—and not for one month -in the year will they let that house o' theirs at Dunoon—they -tell me that the pairties and dances they have is jist -extraordinar' and the wastry beyond a' things. Ay, it's -them that save and scrimp and deny themselves that's -expected to do everything in a case like this—notwithstanding -it's a public debt—mind, it's a public debt, binding -on the whole congregation; but what ah say ah'll -stand to—there's wan hundred pounds ready, when there's -fower ithers wi' fifty pounds apiece—that's three hundred -pounds—and wi' such an example before them, surely the -rest o' the members will make up the remaining two -hundred and fifty—surely, surely.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's lending to the Lord,' said the minister's wife sadly, -as she passed the marmalade to the children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The conversation now took the form of a discussion as -to which of the members might reasonably be expected to -come forward at such a juncture; and as Ronald had no -part or interest in this matter he made bold to turn to -Mr. Weems, who sate beside him, and engage him in talk on -their own account. Indeed, he had rather taken a liking -for this timorous little man, and wished to know more -about him and his belongings and occupations; and when -Mr. Weems revealed to him the great trouble of his life—the -existence of a shrill-voiced chanticleer in the backyard -of the cottage adjoining his own, out somewhere in the -Pollokshaws direction—Ronald was glad to come to his -help at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, that's all right,' said he. 'I'll shoot him for you.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this calm proposal was like to drive the poor little -man daft with terror. His nervous system suffered cruelly -from the skirling of the abominable fowl; but even that -was to be dreaded less than a summons and a prosecution -and a deadly feud with his neighbour, who was a drunken, -quarrelsome, cantankerous shoemaker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But, God bless me,' Ronald said, 'it's not to be thought -of that any human being should be tortured like that by a -brute beast. Well, there's another way o' settling the hash -o' that screeching thing. You just go and buy a pea-shooter—or -if one of the laddies will lend you a tin whistle, that -will do; then go and buy twopence-worth of antibilious -pills—indeed, I suppose any kind would serve; and then -fire half a dozen over into the back-yard; my word, when -the bantam gentleman has picked up these bonny looking -peas, and swallowed them, he'll no be for flapping his wings -and crowing, I'm thinking; he'll rather be for singing the -tune of "Annie Laurie." But maybe you're not a good -shot with a pea-shooter? Well, I'll come over and do it -for you early some morning, when the beast's hungry.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was difficult for any one to talk, even in the -most subdued and modest way, with that harsh and strident -voice laying down the law at the head of the table. And -now the large-waistcoated elder was on the subject of the -temperance movement; arraigning the government for not -suppressing the liquor-traffic altogether; denouncing the -callous selfishness of those who were inclined to -temporise with the devil, and laying at their door all the misery -caused by the drunkenness of their fellow-creatures; and -proudly putting in evidence his own position in the city of -Glasgow—his authority in the church—the regard paid to -his advice—and the solid, substantial slice of the world's -gear that he possessed—as entirely due to the fact that he -had never, not even as a young man, imbibed one drop -of alcohol. Now Ronald Strang was ordinarily a most -abstemious person—and no credit to him, nor to any one -in the like case; for his firm physique and his way of living -hitherto had equally rendered him independent of any such -artificial aid (though a glass of whisky on a wet day on the -hillside did not come amiss to him, and his hard head -could steer him safely through a fair amount of jollification -when those wild lads came down from Tongue). But he -was irritated by that loud and raucous voice; he resented -the man's arrogance and his domineering over the placid -and phlegmatic Andrew, who scarcely opened his mouth; -and here and there he began to put in a sharp saying or -two that betokened discontent and also a coming storm. -'They used to say that cleanliness was next to godliness; -but nowadays ye would put total abstinence half a mile -ahead of it,' he would say, or something of the kind; and -in due course these two were engaged in a battle-royal of -discussion. It shall not be put down here; for who was -ever convinced—in morals, or art, or literature, or anything -else—by an argument? it needs only be said that the elder, -being rather hard pressed, took refuge in Scriptural authority. -But alas! this was not of much avail; for the whole family -of the East Lothian farmer (not merely the student one of -them) had been brought up with exceeding care, and taught -to give chapter and verse for everything; so that when -Mr. M'Lachlan sought to crush his antagonist with the bludgeon -of quotation he found it was only a battledore he had got -hold of.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'"Wine is a mocker; strong drink is raging; and whosoever -is deceived thereby is not wise,"' he would say severely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'"Wine which cheereth God and man,"' the other -would retort. '"Wine that maketh glad the heart of -man." What make ye of these?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'"Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath -babbling?—they that tarry long at the wine; they that go to -seek mixed wine." What better authority can we have?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay, man, the wise king said that; but it wasna his last -word. "Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, -and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts. Let him -drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery -no more."'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The devil quoting Scripture for his own ends,' the -Reverend Andrew interposed, with a mild facetiousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's a dreadful thing to hear in a minister's house,' -said the minister's wife, appealing to her neighbour, -Mrs. M'Lachlan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What is? A verse from the Proverbs of Solomon?' -Ronald said, turning to her quite good-naturedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But instantly he saw that she was distressed, and even -more lachrymose than ever; and he knew that nothing -would convince her that he was not a child of wrath and of -the devil; and he reproached himself for having entered into -any discussion of any kind whatever in this house, where -Maggie was to live—he hoped in perfect accord and amity. -As for himself, he wished only to be out of it. He was not -in his right element. The vulgar complacency of the rich -elder irritated him; the melancholy unreason of his -sister-in-law depressed him. He foresaw that not here was any -abiding-place for him while he sojourned in the great city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But how was he to get away? They lingered and -dawdled over their tea-drinking in a most astonishing -fashion; his brother being the most intemperate of all of -them, and obviously accounting thereby for his pallid and -bilious cheeks. Moreover, they had returned to that fruitful -topic of talk—the capability of this or the other member -of the congregation to subscribe to the fund for paying off -the debt on the church; and as this involved a discussion -of everybody's ways and means, and of his expenditure, and -the manner of living of himself, his wife, his sons, and -daughters and servants, the very air seemed thick with -trivial and envious tittle-tattle, the women-folk, of course, -being more loquacious than any.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Lord help us,' said Ronald to himself, as he sate there -in silence, 'this house would be a perfect paradise for an -Income-tax Commissioner.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, the fourth or fifth tea-pot was exhausted at -last; the minister offered up a prolonged thanksgiving; and -Ronald thought that now he might get away—and out into -the freer air. But that was not to be as yet. His brother -observed that it was getting late; that all the members of -the household were gathered together; and they might -appropriately have family worship now. So the two servant-girls -were summoned in to clear the table, and that done, -they remained; the minister brought the family Bible over -from the sideboard; and all sate still and attentive, their -books in their hand, while he sought out the chapter he -wanted. It was the Eighth of the Epistle to the Romans; -and he read it slowly and elaborately, but without any word -of comment or expounding. Then he said that they would -sing to the praise of the Lord the XCIII. Psalm—himself -leading off with the fine old tune of </span><em class="italics">Martyrdom</em><span>; and this -the young people sang very well indeed, though they were -a little interfered with by the uncertain treble of the married -women and the bovine baritone of the elder. Thereafter -the minister offered up a prayer, in which very pointed -reference was made to the brother and sister who had come -from the far mountains to dwell within the gates of the -city; and then all of them rose, and the maidservants -withdrew, and those remaining who had to go began to get -ready for their departure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come over and see us soon again,' the minister said to -him, as they followed him into the lobby; but the minister's -wife did not repeat that friendly invitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald,' the little Maggie whispered—and her lips -were rather tremulous, 'if you hear from Meenie, will you -let me know?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But I am not likely to hear from her, lass,' said he, -with his hand upon her shoulder. 'You must write to her -yourself, and she will answer, and send ye the news.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Mind ye pass the public-houses on the way gaun hame,' -said the elder, by way of finishing up the evening with a -joke: Ronald took no notice, but bade the others good-bye, -and opened the door and went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he got into the street his first startled impression -was that the world was on fire—all the heavens, but -especially the southern heavens, were one blaze of soft and -smoky blood-red, into which the roofs and chimney-stacks -of the dusky buildings rose solemn and dark. A pulsating -crimson it was, now dying away slightly, again gleaming up -with a sudden fervour; and always it looked the more -strange and bewildering because of the heavy gloom of the -buildings and the ineffectual lemon-yellow points of the -gas-lamps. Of course he remembered instantly what this -must be—the glow of the ironworks over there in the -south; and presently he had turned his back on that sullen -radiance, and was making away for the north side of the -city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when he emerged from the comparative quiet of -the southern thoroughfares into the glare and roar of -Jamaica Street and Argyll Street, all around him there -seemed even more of bewilderment than in the daytime. -The unceasing din of tramway-cars and vans and carts still -filled the air; but now there was everywhere a fierce yellow -blaze of gaslight—glowing in the great stocked windows, -streaming out across the crowded pavements, and shining -on the huge gilded letters and sprawling advertisements of -the shops. Then the people—a continuous surge, as of a -river; the men begrimed for the most part, here and there -two or three drunk and bawling, the women with cleaner -faces, but most of them bareheaded, with Highland shawls -wrapped round their shoulders. The suffused crimson -glow of the skies was scarcely visible now; this horizontal -blaze of gas-light killed it; and through the yellow glare -passed the dusky phantasmagoria of a city's life—the cars -and horses, the grimy crowds. Buchanan Street, it is true, -was less noisy; and he walked quickly, glad to get out of -that terrible din; and by and by, when he got away up to -Port Dundas Road, where his lodging was, he found the -world grown quite quiet again, and gloomy and dark, save -for the solitary gas-lamps and the faint dull crimson glow -sent across from the southern skies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went up the stone stair, was admitted to the house, -and shown into the apartment that his brother had secured -for him. It had formerly been used as a sitting-room, with -a bedroom attached; but now these were separated, and a -bed was placed at one end of the little parlour, which was -plainly and not untidily furnished. When his landlady left -he proceeded to unpack his things, getting out first his -books, which he placed on the mantel-shelf to be ready for -use in the morning; then he made some further disposition -of his belongings; and then—then somehow he fell away -from this industrious mood, and became more and more -absent, and at last went idly to the window, and stood -looking out there. There was not much to be seen—a -few lights about the Caledonian Railway Station, some -dusky sheds, and that faint red glow in the sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But—Inver-Mudal? Well, if only he had reflected, -Inver-Mudal must at this moment have been just about as -dark as was this railway station and the neighbourhood -surrounding it—unless, indeed, it happened to be a clear -starlit night away up there in the north, with the heavens -shining beautiful and benignant over Clebrig, and the loch, -and the little hamlet among the trees. However, that was -not the Inver-Mudal he was thinking of; it was the Inver-Mudal -of a clear spring day, with sweet winds blowing across -the moors, and the sunlight yellow on Clebrig's slopes, and -Loch Naver's waters all a rippling and dazzling blue. And -Mr. Murray standing at the door of the inn, and smoking -his pipe, and joking with any one that passed; the -saucy Nelly casting glances among the lads; Harry with -dark suspicions of rats wherever he could find a hole -in the wall of the barn; Maggie, under instruction of -Duncan the ploughman, driving the two horses hauling a -harrow over the rough red land; everywhere the birds -singing; the young corn showing green; and then—just -as the chance might be—Meenie coming along -the road, her golden-brown hair blown by the wind, her -eyes about as blue as Loch Naver's shining waters, and -herself calling, with laughter and scolding, to Maggie to -desist from that tomboy work. And where was it all gone -now? He seemed to have shut his eyes upon that beautiful -clear, joyous world; and to have plunged into a hideous -and ghastly dream. The roar and yellow glare—the black -houses—the lurid crimson in the sky—the terrible loneliness -and silence of this very room—well, he could not quite -understand it yet. But perhaps it would not always seem -so bewildering; perhaps one might grow accustomed in -time?—and teach one's self to forget? And then again -he had resolved that he would not read over any more the -verses he had written in the olden days about Meenie, and -the hills and the streams and the straths that knew her and -loved her—for these idle rhymes made him dream dreams; -that is to say, he had almost resolved—he had very nearly -resolved—that he would not read over any more the verses -he had written about Meenie.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="gray-days"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">GRAY DAYS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But, after all, that first plunge into city-life had had -something of the excitement of novelty; it was the settling -down thereafter to the dull monotonous round of labour, -in this lonely lodging, with the melancholy gray world of -mist surrounding him and shutting him in, that was to test -the strength of his resolve. The first day was not so bad; -for now and again he would relieve the slow tedium of the -hours by doing a little carpentering about the room; and -the sharp sound of hammer and nail served to break in -upon that hushed, slumberous murmur of the great city -without that seemed a mournful, distant, oppressive thing. -But the next day of this solitary life (for it was not until -the end of the week he was to see Mr. Weems) was dreadful. -The dull, silent gray hours would not go by. Wrestling -with Ewart's </span><em class="italics">Agricultural Assistant</em><span>, or Balfour's </span><em class="italics">Elements -of Botany</em><span>, or with distressing problems in land-surveying -or timber-measuring, he would think the time had passed; -and then, going to the window for a moment's relief to eye -and brain, he would see by the clock of the railway station -that barely half an hour had elapsed since last he had -looked at the obdurate hands. How he envied the porters, -the cab-drivers, the men who were loading and unloading -the waggons; they seemed all so busy and contented; -they were getting through with their work; they had -something to show for their labour; they had companions -to talk to and joke with; sometimes he thought he could -hear them laughing. And ah, how much more he envied -the traveller who drove up and got leisurely out of the cab, -and had his luggage carried into the station, himself -following and disappearing from view! Whither was he going, -then, away from this great, melancholy city, with its slow -hours, and wan skies, and dull, continuous, stupefying -murmur? Whither, indeed!—away by the silver links of -Forth, perhaps, with the castled rock of Stirling rising into -the windy blue and white; away by the wooded banks of -Allan Water and the bonny Braes of Doune; by Strathyre, -and Glenogle, and Glenorchy; and past the towering -peaks of Ben Cruachan, and out to the far-glancing waters -of the western seas. Indeed it is a sore pity that Miss -Carry Hodson, in a fit of temper, had crushed together and -thrust into the bottom of the boat the newspaper containing -an estimate of Ronald's little Highland poem; if only she -had handed it on to him, he would have learned that the -sentiment of nostalgia is too slender and fallacious a thing for -any sensible person to bother his head about; and, instead -of wasting his time in gazing at the front of a railway -station, he would have gone resolutely back to Strachan's -</span><em class="italics">Agricultural Tables</em><span> and the measuring and mapping of -surface areas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the third day he grew desperate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'In God's name let us see if there's not a bit of blue -sky anywhere!' he said to himself; and he flung his books -aside, and put on his Glengarry cap, and took a stick in his -hand, and went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alas! that there were no light pattering steps following -him down the stone stair; the faithful Harry had had to be -left behind, under charge of Mr. Murray of the inn. And -indeed Ronald found it so strange to be going out without -some companion of the kind that when he passed into the -wide, dull thoroughfare, he looked up and down everywhere -to see if he could not find some homeless wandering cur -that he could induce to go with him. But there was no -sign of dog-life visible; for the matter of that there was -little sign of any other kind of life; there was nothing -before him but the wide, empty, dull-hued street, apparently -terminating in a great wilderness of india-rubber works and -oil-works and the like, all of them busily engaged in pouring -volumes of smoke through tall chimneys into the already -sufficiently murky sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when he got farther north, he found that there were -lanes and alleys permeating this mass of public works; and -eventually he reached a canal, and crossed that, deeming -that if he kept straight on he must reach the open country -somewhere. As yet he could make out no distance; blocks -of melancholy soot-begrimed houses, timber-yards, and -blank stone walls shut in the view on every hand; moreover -there was a brisk north wind blowing that was sharply -pungent with chemical fumes and also gritty with dust; so -that he pushed on quickly, anxious to get some clean air -into his lungs, and anxious, if that were possible, to get a -glimpse of green fields and blue skies. For, of course, he -could not always be at his books; and this, as he judged, -must be the nearest way out into the country; and he could -not do better than gain some knowledge of his surroundings, -and perchance discover some more or less secluded sylvan -retreat, where, in idle time, he might pass an hour or so -with his pencil and his verses and his memories of the -moors and hills.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the farther out he got the more desolate and -desolating became the scene around him. Here was neither -town nor country; or rather, both were there; and both -were dead. He came upon a bit of hawthorn-hedge; the -stems were coal-black, the leaves begrimed out of all -semblance to natural foliage. There were long straight -roads, sometimes fronted by a stone wall and sometimes -by a block of buildings—dwelling-houses, apparently, but -of the most squalid and dingy description; the windows -opaque with dirt; the 'closes' foul; the pavements in front -unspeakable. But the most curious thing was the lifeless -aspect of this dreary neighbourhood. Where were the -people? Here or there two or three ragged children would -be playing in the gutter; or perhaps, in a dismal little shop, -an old woman might be seen, with some half-withered -apples and potatoes on the counter. But where were the -people who at one time or other must have inhabited -these great, gaunt, gloomy tenements? He came to a -dreadful place called Saracen Cross—a very picture of -desolation and misery; the tall blue-black buildings showing -hardly any sign of life in their upper flats; the shops below -being for the most part tenantless, the windows rudely -boarded over. It seemed as if some blight had fallen over -the land, first obliterating the fields, and then laying its -withering hand on the houses that had been built on them. -And yet these melancholy-looking buildings were not -wholly uninhabited; here or there a face was visible—but -always of women or children; and perhaps the men-folk -were away at work somewhere in a factory. Anyhow, -under this dull gray sky, with a dull gray mist in the air, -and with a strange silence everywhere around, the place -seemed a City of the Dead; he could not understand how -human beings could live in it at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last, however, he came to some open spaces that -still bore some half-decipherable marks of the country, and -his spirits rose a little. He even tried to sing 'O say, will -you marry me, Nelly Munro?'—to force himself into a -kind of liveliness, as it were, and to prove to himself that -things were not quite so bad after all. But the words -stuck in his throat. His voice sounded strangely in this -silent and sickly solitude. And at last he stood stock-still, -to have a look round about him, and to make out what -kind of a place this was that he had entered into.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, it was a very strange kind of place. It seemed to -have been forgotten by somebody, when all the other land -near was being ploughed through by railway-lines and -heaped up into embankments. Undoubtedly there were -traces of the country still remaining—and even of agriculture; -here and there a line of trees, stunted and nipped by -the poisonous air; a straggling hedge or two, withered and -black; a patch of corn, of a pallid and hopeless colour; -and a meadow with cattle feeding in it. But the road that -led through these bucolic solitudes was quite new and made -of cinders; in the distance it seemed to lose itself in a -network of railway embankments; while the background of -this strange simulacrum of a landscape—so far as that -could be seen through the pall of mist and smoke—seemed -to consist of further houses, ironworks, and tall -chimney-stacks. Anything more depressing and disconsolate he had -never witnessed; nay, he had had no idea that any such -God-forsaken neighbourhood existed anywhere in the world; -and he thought he would much rather be back at his -books than wandering through this dead and spectral land. -Moreover it was beginning to rain—a thin, pertinacious drizzle -that seemed to hang in the thick and clammy air; and so -he struck away to the right, in the direction of some houses, -guessing that there he would find some way of getting back -to the city other than that ghastly one he had come by.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the time he had reached these houses—a suburb or -village this seemed to be that led in a straggling fashion up -to the crest of a small hill—it was raining heavily. Now -ordinarily a gamekeeper in the Highlands is not only -indifferent to rain, but apparently incapable of perceiving -the existence of it. When was wet weather at Inver-Mudal -ever known to interfere with the pursuits or occupations of -anybody? Why, the lads there would as soon have thought -of taking shelter from the rain as a terrier would. But it -is one thing to be walking over wet heather in -knickerbocker-stockings and shoes, the water quite clean, and the -exercise keeping legs and feet warm enough, and it is -entirely another thing to be walking through mud made -of black cinders, with clammy trousers flapping coldly -round one's ankles. Nay, so miserable was all this -business that he took refuge in an entry leading into one of -those 'lands' of houses; and there he stood, in the cold -stone passage, with a chill wind blowing through it, looking -out on the swimming pavements, and the black and muddy -road, and the dull stone walls, and the mournful skies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length, the rain moderating somewhat, he issued out -from this shelter, and set forth for the town. A -tramway-car passed him, but he had no mind to be jammed in -amongst a lot of elderly women, all damp and with -dripping umbrellas. Nay, he was trying to convince himself -that the very discomfort of this dreary march -homeward—through mud and drizzle and fog—was a wholesome thing. -After that glimpse of the kind of country that lay outside -the town—in this direction at least—there would be less -temptation for him to throw down his books and go off for -idle strolls. He assured himself that he ought to be glad -that he found no verdant meadows and purling brooks; -that, on the contrary, the aspect of this suburban territory -was sufficiently appalling to drive him back to his lodgings. -All the same, when he did arrive there, he was somewhat -disheartened and depressed; and he went up the stone -staircase slowly; and when he entered that solitary, dull -little room, and sate down, he felt limp and damp and -tired—tired, after a few miles' walk! And then he took to -his books again, with his mouth set hard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Late that night he was sitting as usual alone, and rather -absently turning over his papers; and already it had come -to this that now, when he chanced to read any of these -writings of his of former days, they seemed to have been -written by some one else. Who was this man, then, that -seemed to go through the world with a laugh and a song, -as it were; rating this one, praising that; having it all his -own way; and with never a thought of the morrow? But -there was one piece in particular that struck home. It was -a description of the little terrier; he had pencilled it on the -back of an envelope one warm summer day when he was -lying at full length on the heather, with Harry not half a -dozen yards off, his nose between his paws. Harry did not -know that his picture was being taken.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Auld, gray, and grizzled; yellow een;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A nose as brown's a berry;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A wit as sharp as ony preen—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That's my wee chieftain Harry.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Lord sakes!—the courage of the man!</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The biggest barn-yard ratten,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">He'll snip him by the neck, o'er-han',</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">As he the deil had gatten.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And when his master's work on hand,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">There's none maun come anear him;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The biggest Duke in all Scotland,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">My Harry's teeth would fear him.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But ordinar' wise like fowl or freen,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">He's harmless as a kitten;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">As soon he'd think o' worryin'</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A hennie when she's sittin'.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But Harry, lad, ye're growin' auld;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Your days are gettin' fewer;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And maybe Heaven has made a fauld</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For such wee things as you are.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And what strange kintra will that be?</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And will they fill your coggies?</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And whatna strange folk there will see</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">There's water for the doggies?</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ae thing I brawly ken; it's this—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ye may hae work or play there;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But if your master once ye miss,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">I'm bound ye winna stay there.</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was the last verse that struck home. It was through no -failure of devotion on the part of the faithful Harry that he -was now at Inver-Mudal; it was his master that had played -him false, and severed the old companionship. And he -kept thinking about the little terrier; and wondering -whether he missed his master as much as his master missed -him; and wondering whether Meenie had ever a word for -him as she went by—for she and Harry had always been -great friends. Nay, perhaps Meenie might not take it ill if -Maggie wrote to her for news of the little dog; and then -Meenie would answer; and might not her letter take a -wider scope, and say something about the people there, and -about herself? Surely she would do that; and some fine -morning the answer—in Meenie's handwriting—would be -delivered in Abbotsford Place; and he knew that Maggie -would not be long in apprising him of the same. Perhaps, -indeed, he might himself become possessed of that precious -missive; and bring it away with him; and from time to -time have a glance at this or that sentence of it—in -Meenie's own actual handwriting—when the long dull work -of the day was over, and his fancy free to fly away to the -north again, to Strath-Terry and Clebrig and Loch Naver, -and the neat small cottage with the red blinds in the -windows. It seemed to him a long time now since he had left -all of these; he felt as though Glasgow had engulfed him: -while the day of his rescue—the day of the fulfilment of -his ambitious designs—was now growing more and more -distant and vague and uncertain, leaving him only the slow -drudgery of these weary hours. But Meenie's letter would -be a kind of talisman; to see her handwriting would be -like hearing her speak; and surely this dull little lodging -was quiet enough, so that in the hushed silence of the -evening, he, reading those cheerful phrases, might persuade -himself that it was Meenie's voice he was listening to, with -the quiet, clear, soft laugh that so well he remembered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so these first days went by; and he hoped in time to -get more accustomed to this melancholy life; and doggedly -he stuck to the task he had set before him. As for the -outcome of it all—well, that did not seem quite so facile nor so -fine a thing as it had appeared before he came away from the -north; but he left that for the future to decide; and in the -meantime he was above all anxious not to perplex himself -by the dreaming of idle dreams. He had come to Glasgow -to work; not to build impossible castles in the air.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="kate"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">KATE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And yet it was a desperately hard ordeal; for this man was -by nature essentially joyous, and sociable, and fitted to be -the king of all good company; and the whole of his life -had been spent in the open, in brisk and active exercise; -and sunlight and fresh air were to him as the very breath -of his nostrils. But here he was, day after day, week after -week, chained to these dismal tasks; in solitude; with the -far white dream of ambition becoming more and more -distant and obscured; and with a terrible consciousness -ever growing upon him that in coming away from even the -mere neighbourhood of Meenie, from the briefest -companionship with her, he had sacrificed the one beautiful -thing, the one precious possession, that his life had ever -held for him or would hold. What though the impalpable -barrier of Glengask and Orosay rose between him and her? -He was no sentimental Claude Melnotte; he had common -sense; he accepted facts. Of course Meenie would go -away in due time. Of course she was destined for higher -things. But what then? What of the meanwhile? Could -anything happen to him quite so wonderful, or worth the -striving for, as Meenie's smile to him as she met him in the -road? What for the time being made the skies full of -brightness, and made the pulses of the blood flow gladly, -and the day become charged with a kind of buoyancy of -life? And as for these vague ambitions for the sake of -which he had bartered away his freedom and sold himself -into slavery—towards what did they tend? For whom? -The excited atmosphere the Americans had brought with -them had departed now: alas! this other atmosphere into -which he had plunged was dull and sad enough, in all -conscience; and the leaden days weighed down upon him; -and the slow and solitary hours would not go by.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One evening he was coming in to the town by way of the -Pollokshaws road; he had spent the afternoon hard at work -with Mr. Weems, and was making home again to the silent -little lodging in the north. He had now been a month and -more in Glasgow; and had formed no kind of society or -companionship whatever. Once or twice he had looked -in at his brother's; but that was chiefly to see how the -little Maggie was going on; his sister-in-law gave him no -over-friendly welcome; and, indeed, the social atmosphere -of the Reverend Andrew's house was far from being -congenial to him. As for the letter of introduction that -Meenie had given him to her married sister, of course he -had not had the presumption to deliver that; he had -accepted the letter, and thanked Meenie for it—for it was -but another act of her always thoughtful kindness; but -Mrs. Gemmill was the wife of a partner in a large warehouse; -and they lived in Queen's Crescent; and altogether Ronald -had no thought of calling on them—although to be sure -he had heard that Mrs. Gemmill had been making sufficiently -minute and even curious inquiries with regard to -him of a member of his brother's congregation whom -she happened to know. No; he lived his life alone; -wrestling with the weariness of it as best he might; and -not quite knowing, perhaps, how deeply it was eating into -his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, he was walking absently home on this dull gray -evening, watching the lamp-lighter adding point after point -to the long string of golden stars, when there went by a -smartly appointed dog-cart. He did not particularly remark -the occupants of the vehicle, though he knew they were two -women, and that one of them was driving; his glance fell -rather on the well-groomed cob, and he thought the -varnished oak dog-cart looked neat and business-like. -The next second it was pulled up; there was a pause, -during which time he was of course drawing nearer; and -then a woman's voice called to him—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Bless me, is that you, Ronald?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked up in amazement. And who was this, then, -who had turned her head round and was now regarding -him with her laughing, handsome, bold black eyes? She -was a woman apparently of five-and-thirty or so, but -exceedingly well preserved and comely; of pleasant features -and fresh complexion; and of rather a manly build and -carriage—an appearance that was not lessened by her -wearing a narrow-brimmed little billycock hat. And then, -even in this gathering dusk, he recognised her; and -unconsciously he repeated her own words—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Bless me, is that you, Mrs.—Mrs.—Menzies—' for in -truth he had almost forgotten her name.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Mrs. This or Mrs. That!' the other cried. 'I thought -my name was Kate—it used to be anyway. Well, I declare! -Come, give us a shake of your hand—auntie, this is my -cousin Ronald!—and who would hae thought of meeting -you in Glasgow, now!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I have been here a month and more,' Ronald said, -taking the proffered hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And never to look near me once—there's friendliness! -Eh, and what a man you've grown to—ye were just a bit -laddie when I saw ye last—but aye after the lasses, -though—oh aye—bless me, what changes there hae been since -then!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, Katie, it's not you that have changed much anyway,' -said he, for he was making out again the old familiar -girlish expression in the firmer features of the mature woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And what's brought ye to Glasgow?' said she—but -then she corrected herself: 'No, no; I'll have no long -story wi' you standing on the pavement like that. Jump -up behind, Ronald, lad, and come home wi' us, and we'll -have a crack thegither——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Katie, dear,' said her companion, who was a little, -white-faced, cringing and fawning old woman, 'let me get -down and get up behind. Your cousin must sit beside ye——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But already Ronald had swung himself on to the after -seat of the vehicle; and Mrs. Menzies had touched the -cob with her whip; and soon they were rattling away into -the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose ye heard that my man was dead?' said -she presently, and partly turning round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I think I did,' he answered rather vaguely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He was a good man to me, like Auld Robin Gray,' said -this strapping widow, who certainly had a very matter-of-fact -way in talking about her deceased husband. 'But he was -never the best of managers, poor man. I've been doing -better ever since. We've a better business, and not a -penny of mortgage left on the tavern.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Weel ye may say that, Katie,' whined the old woman. -'There never was such a manager as you—never. Ay, and -the splendid furniture—it was never thought o' in his -time—bless 'm! A good man he was, and a kind man; but no -the manager you are, Katie; there's no such another tavern -in a' Glesca.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now although the cousinship with Ronald claimed by -Mrs. Menzies did not exist in actual fact,—there was some -kind of remote relationship, however,—still, it must be -confessed that it was very ungrateful and inconstant of him -to have let the fate and fortunes of the pretty Kate Burnside -(as she was in former days) so entirely vanish from his mind -and memory. Kate Burnside was the daughter of a small -farmer in the Lammermuir district; and the Strangs and -Burnsides were neighbours as well as remotely related by -blood. But that was not the only reason why Ronald -ought to have remembered a little more about the stalwart, -black-eyed, fresh-cheeked country wench who, though she -was some seven or eight years or more his senior, he had -boldly chosen for his sweetheart in his juvenile days. Nay, -had she not been the first inspirer of his muse; and had he -not sung this ox-eyed goddess in many a laboured verse, -carefully constructed after the manner of Tannahill or -Motherwell or Allan Cunningham? The 'lass of Lammer -Law' he called her in these artless strains; and Kate was -far from resenting this frank devotion; nay, she even -treasured up the verses in which her radiant beauties were -enumerated; for why should not a comely East Lothian -wench take pleasure in being told that her cheeks outshone -the rose, and that the 'darts o' her bonnie black een' had -slain their thousands, and that her faithful lover would come -to see her, ay, though the Himalayas barred his way? But -then, alas!—as happens in the world—the faithful lover was -sent off into far neighbourhoods to learn the art and -mystery of training pointers and setters; and Kate's father -died, and the family dispersed from the farm; Kate went -into service in Glasgow, and there she managed to capture -the affections of an obese and elderly publican whom—she -being a prudent and sensible kind of a creature—she forthwith -married; by and by, through partaking too freely of his -own wares, he considerately died, leaving her in sole possession -of the tavern (he had called it a public-house, but she -soon changed all that, and the place too, when she was -established as its mistress); and now she was a handsome, -buxom, firm-nerved woman, who could and did look well -after her own affairs; who had a flourishing business, a -comfortable bank account, and a sufficiency of friends of her -own way of thinking; and whose raven-black hair did not -as yet show a single streak of gray. It was all this latter -part of Kate Burnside's—or rather, Mrs. Menzies's—career -of which Ronald was so shamefully ignorant; but she speedily -gave him enough information about herself as they drove -through the gas-lit streets, for she was a voluble, high-spirited -woman, who could make herself heard when she chose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay,' said she, at length, 'and where have ye left the -good wife, Ronald?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What goodwife?' said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye dinna tell me that you're no married yet?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not that I know of,' said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What have ye been about, man? Ye were aye daft -about the lasses; and ye no married yet? What have ye -been about, man, to let them a' escape ye?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Some folk have other things to think of,' said he -evasively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Dinna tell me,' she retorted. 'I ken weel what's -upper-most in the mind o' a handsome lad like you. Weel, if -ye're no married, ye're the next door to it, I'll be bound. -What's she like?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll tell ye when I find her,' said he drily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye're a dark one; but I'll find ye out, my man.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She could not continue the conversation, for they were -about to cross the bridge over the Clyde, and the -congested traffic made her careful. And then again Jamaica -Street was crowded and difficult to steer through; but -presently she left that for a quieter thoroughfare leading -off to the right; and in a few moments she had pulled -up in front of a large tavern, close by a spacious archway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Auntie, gang you and fetch Alec to take the cob round, -will ye?' said she; and then Ronald, surmising that she -had now reached home, leapt to the ground, and went to -the horse's head. Presently the groom appeared, and Kate -Menzies descended from her chariot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now in Glasgow, for an establishment of this kind to -be popular, it must have a side entrance—the more the -merrier, indeed—by which people can get into the tavern -without being seen; but besides this it soon appeared that -Mrs. Menzies had a private right of way of her own. She -bade Ronald follow her; she went through the archway; -produced a key and opened a door; and then, passing -along a short lobby, he found himself in what might be -regarded as the back parlour of the public-house, but was -in reality a private room reserved by Mrs. Menzies for -herself and her intimate friends. And a very brilliant little -apartment it was; handsomely furnished and shining with -stained wood, plate glass, and velvet; the gas-jets all aglow -in the clear globes; the table in the middle laid with a -white cloth for supper, all sparkling with crystal and -polished electro-plate. Moreover (for business is business) -this luxurious little den commanded at will complete views -of the front premises; and there was also a door leading -thither; but the door was shut, and the red blinds were -drawn over the two windows, so that the room looked quite -like one in a private dwelling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And now, my good woman,' said Mrs. Menzies, as she -threw her hat and cloak and dog-skin gloves into a corner, -'just you mak' them hurry up wi' supper; for we're just -home in time; and we'll want another place at the table. -And tell Jeannie there's a great friend o' mine come in, if -she can get anything special—Lord's sake, Ronald, if I had -kent I was going to fall in with you I would have looked -after it mysel'.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye need not bother about me,' said he, 'for supper -is not much in my way—not since I came to the town. -Without the country air, I think one would as lief not sit -down to a table at all.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, I can cure ye o' that complaint,' she said -confidently; and she rang the bell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instantly the door was opened, and he caught a glimpse -of a vast palatial-looking place, with more stained wood -and plate glass and velvet, and with several smartly-dressed -young ladies standing or moving behind the long mahogany -counters; moreover, one of these—a tall and serious-eyed -maiden—now stood at the partly opened door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Gin and bitters, Mary,' said Mrs. Menzies briskly—she -was at this moment standing in front of one of the -mirrors, complacently smoothing her hair with her hands, -and setting to rights her mannish little necktie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The serious-eyed handmaiden presently reappeared, -bringing a small salver, on which was a glass filled with -some kind of a fluid, which she presented to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's this?' said he, appealing to his hostess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Drink it and find out,' said she; 'it'll make ye jump -wi' hunger, as the Hielanman said.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did as he was bid; and loudly she laughed at the -wry face that he made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's the matter?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's a devil of a kind of thing, that,' said he; for it was -a first experience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay, but wait till ye find how hungry it will make ye,' -she answered; and then she returned from the mirror. 'And -I'm sure ye'll no mind my hair being a wee thing camstrairy, -Ronald; there's no need for ceremony between auld freens, -as the saying is——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But, look here, Katie, my lass,' said he—for perhaps -he was a little emboldened by that fiery fluid, 'I'm thinking -that maybe I'm making myself just a little too much at home. -Now, some other time, when ye've no company, I'll come -in and see ye——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she cut him short at once, and with some pride.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Indeed, I'll tell ye this, that the day that Ronald Strang -comes into my house—and into my own house too—that's -no the day that he's gaun out o't without eating and drinking. -Ma certes, no! And as for company, why there's none but -auld mother Paterson—I ca' her auntie; but she's no more -my auntie than you are—ye see, my man, Ronald, a poor, -unprotected helpless widow woman maun look after appearances—for -the world's unco given to leein', as Shakespeare says. -There, Ronald, that's another thing,' she added suddenly—'ye'll -take me to the theatre!—my word, we'll have a box!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But these gay visions were interrupted by the reappearance -of Mrs. Paterson, who was followed by a maidservant -bearing a dish on which was a large sole, smoking hot. -Indeed, it soon became apparent that this was to be a very -elaborate banquet, such as Ronald was not at all familiar -with; and all the care and flattering attention his hostess -could pay him she paid him, laughing and joking with him, -and insisting on his having the very best of everything, and -eager to hand things to him—even if she rather ostentatiously -displayed her abundant rings in doing so. And -when mother Paterson said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What will ye drink, Katie dear? Some ale—or some porter?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other stormily answered—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Get out, ye daft auld wife! Ale or porter the first day -that my cousin Ronald comes into my own house? Champagne's -the word, woman; and the best! What will ye have, -Ronald—what brand do ye like?—Moett and Shandon?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ronald laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What do I know about such things?' said he. 'And -besides, there's no reason for such extravagance. There's -been no stag killed the day.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's been no stag killed the day,' she retorted, -'but Ronald Strang's come into my house, and he'll have -the best that's in it, or my name's no Kate Burnside—or -Kate Menzies, I should say, God forgie me! Ring the -bell, auntie.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time the grave-eyed barmaid appeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'A bottle of Moett and Shandon, Mary.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'A pint bottle, m'm?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'A pint bottle—ye stupid idiot?' she said (but quite -good-naturedly). 'A quart bottle, of course!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then when the bottle was brought and the glasses -filled, she said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Here's your health, Ronald; and right glad am I to -see you looking so weel—ye were aye a bonnie laddie, and -ye've kept the promise o't—ay, indeed, the whole o' you -Strangs were a handsome family—except your brother -Andrew, maybe——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Do ye ever see Andrew?' Ronald said; for a modest -man does not like to have his looks discussed, even in the -most flattering way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then loudly laughed Kate Menzies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Me? Me gang and see the Reverend Andrew Strang? -No fears! He's no one o' my kind. He'd drive me out -o' the house wi' bell, book, and candle. I hae my ain -friends, thank ye—and I'm going to number you amongst -them so long as ye stop in this town. Auntie, pass the -bottle to Ronald!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so the banquet proceeded—a roast fowl and bacon, -an apple-tart, cheese and biscuits and what not following in -due succession; and all the time she was learning more -and more of the life that Ronald had led since he had left -the Lothians, and freely she gave him of her confidences -in return. On one point she was curiously inquisitive, and -that was as to whether he had not been in some entanglement -with one or other of the Highland lasses up there in -Sutherlandshire; and there was a considerable amount of -joking on that subject, which Ronald bore good-naturedly -enough; finding it on the whole the easier way to let her -surmises have free course.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But ye're a dark one!' she said at length. 'And ye -would hae me believe that a strapping fellow like you hasna -had the lasses rinnin' after him? I'm no sae daft.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll tell ye what it is, Katie,' he retorted, 'the lasses in -the Highlands have their work to look after; they dinna -live a' in clover, like the Glasgow dames.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Dinna tell me—dinna tell me,' she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now, as supper was over and the table cleared, she -went to a small mahogany cabinet and opened it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I keep some cigars here for my particular friends,' said -Mrs. Menzies, 'but I'm sure I dinna ken which is the best. -Come and pick for yourself, Ronald lad; if you're no -certain the best plan is to take the biggest.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'This is surely living on the fat of the land, Katie,' he -protested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And what for no?' said she boldly. 'Let them enjoy -themselves that's earned the right to it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But that's not me,' he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, it's me,' she answered. 'And when my cousin -Ronald comes into my house, it's the best that's in it that's -at his service—and no great wonder either!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, her hospitality was certainly a little stormy; but -the handsome widow meant kindly and well; and it is -scarcely to be marvelled at if—under the soothing influences -of the fragrant tobacco—he was rather inclined to substitute -for this brisk and business-like Kate Menzies of these present -days the gentler figure of the Kate Burnside of earlier -years, more especially as she had taken to talking of those -times, and of all the escapades the young lads and lasses -used to enjoy on Hallowe'en night or during the first-footing -at Hogmanay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And now I mind me, Ronald,' she said, 'ye used to -be a fine singer when ye were a lad. Do ye keep it up -still?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I sometimes try,' he answered. 'But there's no been -much occasion since I came to this town. It's a lonely -kind o' place, for a' the number o' folk in it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, now ye're among friends, give us something!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Oh, that I will, if ye like,' said he readily; and he laid -aside his cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then he sang—moderating his voice somewhat, so -that he should not be heard in the front premises—a verse -or two of an old favourite—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'The sun rase sae rosy, the gray hills adorning,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Light sprang the laverock, and mounted sae high,'</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>and if his voice was quiet, still the clear, penetrating quality -of it was there; and when he had finished Kate Menzies -said to him—after a second of irresolution—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye couldna sing like that when ye were a lad, Ronald. -It's maist like to gar a body greet.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he would not sing any more that night; he guessed -that she must have her business affairs to attend to; and -he was resolved upon going, in spite of all her importunacy. -However, as a condition, she got him to promise to come -and see her on the following evening. It was Saturday -night; several of her friends were in the habit of dropping -in on that night; finally, she pressed her entreaty so -that he could not well refuse; and, having promised, he left.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And no doubt as he went home through the great, -noisy, lonely city, he felt warmed and cheered by this -measure of human companionship that had befallen him. -As for Kate Menzies, it would have been a poor return for -her excessive kindness if he had stopped to ask himself -whether her robust </span><em class="italics">camaraderie</em><span> did not annoy him a little. -He had had plenty of opportunities of becoming acquainted -with the manners and speech and ways of refined and -educated women; indeed, there are few gamekeepers in the -Highlands who have not at one time or another enjoyed -that privilege. Noble and gracious ladies who, in the -south, would as soon think of talking to a door-mat as of -entering into any kind of general conversation with their -butler or coachman, will fall quite naturally into the -habit—when they are living away in the seclusion of a Highland -glen with the shooting-party at the lodge—of stopping to -have a chat with Duncan or Hector the gamekeeper when -they chance to meet, him coming along the road with his -dogs; and, what is more, they find him worth the talking -to. Then, again, had not Ronald been an almost daily -spectator of Miss Douglas's sweet and winning manners—and -that continued through years; and had not the young -American lady, during the briefer period she was in the -north, made quite a companion of him in her frank and -brave fashion? He had almost to confess to himself that -there was just a little too much of Mrs. Menzies's tempestuous -good nature; and then again he refused to confess anything -of the kind; and quarrelled with himself for being so -ungrateful. Why, the first bit of real, heartfelt friendliness -that had been shown him since he came to this great city; -and he was to examine it; and be doubtful; and wish that -the keeper of a tavern should be a little more refined!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald lad,' he was saying to himself when he reached -his lodging in the dusky Port Dundas Road, 'it's over-fed -stomachs that wax proud. You'll be better minded if you -keep to your books and plainer living.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-social-evening"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A SOCIAL EVENING.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Looking forward to this further festivity he worked hard at -his studies all day, and it was not until nearly nine o'clock -in the evening that he went away down through the roaring -streets to keep his engagement with Kate Menzies. And -very snug and comfortable indeed did the little parlour -look, with its clear glass globes and warmly-cushioned seats -and brilliant mirrors and polished wood. Kate herself -(who was quite resplendent in purple velvet and silver -necklace and bangles) was reading a sporting newspaper; -old mother Paterson was sewing; there were cigar-boxes on -the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And what d'ye mean,' cried the handsome widow gaily, -when he made his appearance, 'by coming at this hour? -Did not I tell ye we would expect ye to supper?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Would ye have me eat you out o' house and home, -woman?' he said. 'Besides, I had some work to get -through.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, sit down and make yerself happy; better late -than never; there's the cigars—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I would as lief smoke a pipe, Katie, if ye don't object—only -that I'm shamed to smoke in a fine place like this——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What is't for, man? Do ye think I got it up for an -exhibition—to be put in a glass case! And what'll ye -drink now, Ronald—some Moett and Shandon?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Indeed no,' said he. 'If I may light my pipe I want -nothing else.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But I canna bear an empty table,' said she. 'Here, -auntie, get your flounces and falderals out o' the road—bless -us, woman, ye make the place look like a milliner's -shop! And bring out the punch-bowl frae the chiffonnier—I -want ye to see it, Ronald, for it was gien to my gudeman -by an auld freend o' his in Ayr, that got it from the last of -the lairds o' Garthlie. And if ane or twa o' them happen -to come in to-night we'll try a brew—for there's naething -so wholesome, after a', as the wine o' the country, and I -can gie ye some o' the real stuff. Will ye no try a drop -the noo?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No thank ye, no thank ye,' said he, for he had lit his -pipe, and was well content.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, well, we'll have one o' the lasses in to set the -tumblers and the glasses, for I canna thole to see a bare -table; and in the meantime, Ronald, you and me can hae -a crack be oursels, and ye can tell me what ye mean to -do when ye get your certificate——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If I get it, ye mean, lass.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No fears,' she said confidently; 'ye were aye one o' -the clever ones; I'll warrant ye there's na skim-milk in -your head where the brains should be. But I want to ken -what ye're ettling at after you've got the certificate, and -what's your plans, and the like; for I've been thinking -about it; and if there was any kind o' a starting needed—the -loan of a bit something in the way of a nest-egg, ye -see—weel, I ken a place where ye might get that, and ye -wouldna have to whistle long at the yett either.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now there was no mistaking the generosity of this offer, -however darkly it might be veiled by Kate Menzies's figurative -manner of speech; and it was with none the less gratitude -that he answered her and explained that a head-forester -traded with the capital of his employer, though, to be sure, -he might on entering a new situation have to find sureties -for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Is it caution-money ye mean, Ronald?' she said frankly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, if a man had no one to speak for him—no one -whose word they would take,' he said to her (though all -this was guess-work on his part), 'they might ask him for -security. There would be no payment of money, of course, -unless he robbed his employer; and then the sureties would -have to make that good as far as they had undertaken. -But it's a long way off yet, Katie, and hardly worth speaking -about. I daresay Lord Ailine would say a word for me.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And is that a'?' she said, with a laugh. 'Is that a' -the money's wanted for—to guarantee the honesty o' one -o' the Strangs o' Whittermains? Weel, I'm no a rich -woman, Ronald—for my money's maistly sunk in the tavern—and -doing weel enough there too—but if it's a surety ye -want, for three hunder pounds, ay, or five hunder pounds, -just you come to me, and the deil's in't if we canna manage -it somehow.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I thank ye for the offer anyway; I'm sure you mean -it,' said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That lawyer o' mine,' she continued, 'is a dour chiel; -he'll no let me do this; and he's grumbling at that; and a -poor widow woman is supposed to hae nae soul o' her ain. -I'm sure the fuss that he makes about that cob, and only -fifty-five guineas, and come o' the best Clydesdale stock——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But it was no the expense, it was no the expense, Katie -dear,' whined the old woman, 'it was the risk to your life -frae sae high-mettled a beast. Just think o't, at your time -o' life, wi' a grand business, and yoursel' the manager o' it, -and wi' sae mony freends, think what it would be if ye -broke your neck——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Broke your grandmother's fiddlestrings!' said she. -'The beast's as quiet's a lamb. But that auld man, Peter -Gunn. I suppose he's a good lawyer—indeed, every one -says that—but he's as pernickety as an auld woman; and -he'd mak' ye think the world was made o' silk paper, and -ye daurna stir a step for fear o' fa'in through. But you -just give me the word, Ronald, when the security's wanted; -and we'll see if auld Peter can hinder me frae doing what -I ought to do for one o' my own kith and kin.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were thus talking when there came a knock at the -outer door; then there was a clamour of voices in the little -lobby; and presently there were ushered into the room -three visitors, who were forthwith introduced to Ronald, -with a few words of facetious playfulness from the widow. -There was first a Mr. Jaap, a little old man with Jewish -features, bald on the top of his head, but with long, flowing -gray hair behind; a mild-looking old man, but with merry -eyes nevertheless—and indeed all of them seemed to have -been joking as they came in. Then there was a Mr. Laidlaw, -a younger man, of middle height, and of a horsey type; -stupid-looking, rather, but not ill-natured. The third was -Captain M'Taggart, a large heavy man, with a vast, radiant, -Bardolphian face, whose small, shrewd, twinkling blue eyes -had the expression rather of a Clyde skipper given to -rough jesting and steady rum-drinking (and he was all that) -than of the high-souled, child-hearted sailor of romance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Sit ye down, sit ye down,' their hostess said gaily. -'Here, captain, is a job for ye; here's the punch-bowl -that we only have on great days, ye ken; and your brew is -famous—whether wi' old Jamaica or Long John. Set to -work now—here's the sugar and the lemons ready for ye—for -ye maun a' drink the health o' my cousin here that's -come frae Sutherland.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Frae Sutherland, say ye, Mistress?' the big skipper -said, as he reached over for the lemons. 'Ye should ca' -him your kissin frae the Hielans then. Do ye ken that -story, Laidlaw? D'ye ken that yin about the Hielan -kissins, Jaap? Man, that's a gude yin! have ye no heard -it? Have ye no heard it, Mistress?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Tell us what it is first, and we'll tell you afterwards,' -said she saucily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Weel, then,' said he—and he desisted from his preparations -for the punch-making, for he was famous along the -Broomielaw as a story-teller, and liked to keep up his -reputation, 'it was twa young lasses, twa cousins they were, -frae the west side o' Skye—and if there's ony place mair -Hielan than that, it's no me that ever heard o't—and they -were ta'en into service in an inn up about the Gairloch or -Loch Inver, or one o' they lochs. Both o' them were -good-looking lasses, mind ye; but one o' them just unusual -handsome. Well, then, there happened to come to the -inn an English tourist—a most respectable old gentleman -he was; and it was one o' they two lasses—and no the -brawest o' them either—that had to wait on him: but he -was a freendly auld man; and on the mornin' o' his gaun -awa he had to ring for something or other, and when she -brought it to him, he said to her, jist by way o' compliment, -ye ken, "You are a very good-looking girl, do you -know, Flora?" And of course the lass was very well -pleased; but she was a modest lassie too; and she said, -"Oh no, sir; but I hef heard them say my kissin was -peautiful!" "Your what?" said he. "My kissin, sir—" "Get -away, you bold hussy! Off with you at once, or I'll -ring for your master—you brazen baggage!"—and to this -very day, they tell me, the poor lass do'esna ken what on -earth it was that made the auld man into a madman; for -what harm had she done in telling him that her cousin was -better-looking than herself?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This recondite joke was received with much laughter by -the company; and even Ronald had to admit that the Clyde -skipper's imitation of the Highland accent was very fairly -well done. But joke-making is dull work with empty glasses; -and so Captain M'Taggart set himself seriously to the business -of brewing that bowl of punch, while Kate Menzies polished -the silver ladle to an even higher extreme of brilliancy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now these three old cronies of the widow's had betrayed -a little surprise on finding a stranger installed in their -favourite howf; and perhaps they might have been inclined -to resent the intrusion had not Kate Menzies very speedily -intimated her views upon the subject in unmistakable -language. Her 'cousin Ronald' was all her cry; it was -Ronald this and Ronald that; and whatever Ronald said, -that was enough, and decisive. For, of course, after a glass -or so of punch, the newcomers had got to talking politics—or -what they took to be politics; and Ronald, when he was -invited to express his opinion, proved to be on the -unpopular side; nor did he improve his position by talking -with open scorn of a great public agitation then going -on—indeed, he so far forgot himself as to define stump-oratory -as only another form of foot-and-mouth disease. But at -least he had one strenuous backer, and neither Mr. Laidlaw -nor Mr. Jaap nor the big skipper was anxious to quarrel -with a controversialist who had such abundant stores of -hospitality at her command. Moreover, Kate Menzies was -in the habit of speaking her mind; was it not better, for -the sake of peace and quietness, to yield a little? This -cousin of hers from the Highlands could parade some -book-learning it is true; and he had plenty of cut-and-dried -theories that sounded plausible enough; and his apparent -knowledge of the working of American institutions was -sufficiently good for an argument—so long as one could -not get at the real facts; but they knew, of course, that, -with time to get at these facts and to furnish forth replies -to his specious reasonings, they could easily prove their -own case. In the meantime they would be magnanimous. -For the sake of good fellowship—and to oblige a -lady—they shifted the subject.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Or rather she did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose you'll be going to the Harmony Club to-night?' -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'For a while, at least,' replied the captain. 'Mr. Jaap's -new song is to be sung the nicht; and we maun get him -an encore for't. Not that it needs us; "Caledonia's hills -and dales" will be a' ower Glasgow before a fortnight's out; -and it's young Tam Dalswinton that's to sing it. Tam'll -do his best, no fear.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's little ye think,' observed Mrs. Menzies, with a kind -of superior air, 'that there's somebody not a hundred miles -frae here that can sing better than a' your members and a' -your professionals put thegither. The Harmony Club! -If the Harmony Club heard </span><em class="italics">him</em><span>, they might tak tent and -learn a lesson.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay, and wha's he when he's at hame, Mistress?' -Captain M'Taggart said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He's not fifty miles away frae here anyway,' she said. -'And if I was to tell ye that he's sitting not three yards -away frae ye at this meenit?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Katie, woman, are ye daft?' Ronald said, and he -laughed, but his forehead grew red all the same.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, I'm no,' she answered confidently. 'I ken what -I'm saying as weel as most folk. Oh, I've heard some o' -the best o' them—no at the Harmony Club, for they're too -high and mighty to let women bodies in—but at the City -Hall concerts and in the theatres; and I've got a good -enough ear, too; I ken what's what; and I ken if my -cousin Ronald were to stand up at the Saturday Evening -Concerts, and sing the song he sung in this very room last -night, I tell ye he would take the shine out o' some o' them!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He micht gie us a screed now,' Mr. Laidlaw suggested—his -somewhat lack-lustre eyes going from his hostess to -Ronald.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Faith, no!' Ronald said, laughing, 'there's been ower -great a flourish beforehand. The fact is, Mrs. Menzies -here——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I thought I telled ye my name was Kate?' she said -sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Kate, Cat, or Kitten, then, as ye like, woman, what I -mean to say is that ower long a grace makes the porridge -cold. Some other time—some other time, lass.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay, and look here, Mr. Jaap,' continued the widow, -who was determined that her cousin's superior qualifications -should not be hidden, 'ye are aye complaining that ye -canna get anything but trash to set your tunes to. Well, -here's my cousin; I dinna ken if he still keeps at the trade, -but as a laddie he could just write ye anything ye liked right -aff the reel, and as good as Burns, or better. There's your -chance now. Everybody says your music's jist splendid—and -the choruses taken up in a meenit—but you just ask Ronald -there to gie ye something worth while making a song o'.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now not only did the old man express his curiosity to -see some of Ronald's work in this way, and also the gratification -it would give him to set one of his songs to music, -but Ronald was likewise well pleased with the proposal. -His own efforts in adapting tunes to his verses he knew -were very amateurish; and would it not be a new sensation—a -little pride commingled with the satisfaction perhaps—to -have one of his songs presented with an original air -all to itself, and perhaps put to the test of being sung before -some more or less skilled audience? He knew he had -dozens to choose from; some of them patriotic, others -convivial, others humorous in a kind of way: from any of these -the musician was welcome to select as he liked. The love -songs about Meenie were a class apart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now that they had got away from the thrashed-out -straw of politics to more congenial themes, these three -curiously assorted boon-companions proved to be extremely -pleasant and good-natured fellows; and when, at length, -they said it was time for them to be off to the musical club, -they cordially invited Ronald to accompany them. He was -nothing loth, for he was curious to see the place; and if -Mrs. Menzies grumbled a little at being left alone she -consoled herself by hinting that her </span><em class="italics">protégé</em><span> could teach them -a lesson if he chose to do so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'When ye've listened for a while to their squalling, -Ronald, my man, jist you get up and show them how an -East Lothian lad can do the trick.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's that, Mistress? I thought ye said your cousin -was frae the Hielans,' the skipper broke in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Frae the Hielans? Frae East Lothian, I tell ye; -where I come frae mysel'; and where ye'll find the brawest -lads and lasses in the breadth o' Scotland,' she added -saucily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And they dinna stay a' at hame either,' remarked the big -skipper, with much gallantry, as the visitors prepared to leave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went away through the noisy, crowded, glaring -streets, and at length entered a spacious dark courtyard, at -the head of which was a small and narrow entrance. The -skipper led the way; but as they passed up the staircase -they became aware of a noise of music overhead; and when -they reached the landing, they had to pause there, so as not -to interrupt the proceedings within. It was abundantly -clear what these were. A man's voice was singing 'Green -grow the rashes, O' to a smart and lively accompaniment -on the piano; while at the end of each verse joined in a -sufficiently enthusiastic chorus:</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Green grow the rashes, O,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Green grow the rashes, O,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The sweetest hours that e'er I spent,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Were spent among the lasses, O.'</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>and that was repeated:</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Green grow the rashes, O,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Green grow the rashes, O,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The sweetest hours that e'er I spen',</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Were spent among the lasses, O.'</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Then there was silence. The skipper now opened the -door; and, as they entered, Ronald found himself near the -head of a long and loftily-ceilinged apartment, the atmosphere -of which was of a pale blue cast, through the presence -of much tobacco smoke. All down this long room were -twin rows of small tables, at which little groups of friends -or acquaintances sate—respectable looking men they seemed, -many of them young fellows, more of them of middle age, -and nearly all of them furnished with drinks and pipes or -cigars. At the head of the room was a platform, not raised -more than a foot from the floor, with a piano at one end of -it; and in front of the platform was a special semicircular -table, presided over by a bland rubicund gentleman, to whom -Ronald was forthwith introduced. Indeed, the newcomers -were fortunate enough to find seats at this semicircular -table; and when beverages were called for and pipes lit, -they waited for the further continuance of the proceedings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These were of an entirely simple and ingenuous character, -and had no taint whatsoever of the ghastly make-believe of -wit, the mean swagger, and facetious innuendo of the -London music hall. Now a member of the Club, when -loudly called upon by the general voice, would step up to -the platform and sing some familiar Scotch ballad; and -again one of the professional singers in attendance (they -did not appear in swallow-tail and white tie, by the way, -but in soberer attire) would 'oblige' with something more -ambitious; but throughout there was a prevailing tendency -towards compositions with a chorus; and the chorus grew -more universal and more enthusiastic as the evening -proceeded. Then occasionally between the performances there -occurred a considerable interval, during which the members -of the Club would make brief visits to the other tables; and -in this way Ronald made the acquaintance of a good number -of those moderately convivial souls. For, if there was a -tolerable amount of treating and its corresponding -challenges, there was no drunkenness apparent anywhere; there -was some loud talking; and Captain M'Taggart was unduly -anxious that everybody should come and sit at the President's -table; but the greatest hilarity did not exceed bounds. -It was to be observed, however, that, as the evening drew -on, it was the extremely sentimental songs that were the -chief favourites—those that mourned the bygone days of -boyhood and youth, or told of the premature decease of -some beloved Annie or Mary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ronald was once or twice pressed to sing; but he -good-naturedly refused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Some other time, if I may have the chance, I will try -to screw up my courage,' he said. 'And by that time ye'll -have forgotten what Mrs. Menzies said: the East Lothian -folk are wonderful for praising their own kith and kin.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to letting old Mr. Jaap have a song or two to set to -music, that was another and simpler matter; and he promised -to hunt out one or two of them. In truth, it would -not be difficult, as he himself perceived, to find something -a little better than the 'Caledonia's hills and dales' which -was sung that night, and which was of a very familiar pattern -indeed. And Ronald looked forward with not a little -natural satisfaction to the possibility of one of his songs -being sung in that resounding hall; a poet must have his -audience somewhere; and this, at least, was more extensive -than a handful of farm lads and lasses collected together in -the barn at Inver-Mudal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At about half-past eleven the entire company broke up -and dispersed; and Ronald, after thanking his three companions -very heartily for their hospitality during the evening, -set off for his lodgings in the north of the city. He was -quite enlivened and inspirited by this unusual whirl of -gaiety; it had come into his sombre and lonely life as a -startling surprise. The rattle of the piano—the resounding -choruses—the eager talk of these boon-companions—all this -was of an exciting nature; and as he walked away through -the now darkened thoroughfares, he began to wonder -whether he could not write some lilting verses in the old -haphazard way. He had not even tried such a thing since -he came to Glasgow; the measurement of surface areas and -the classification of Dicotyledons did not lead him in that -direction. But on such a gala-night as this, surely he might -string some lines together—about Glasgow lads and lasses, -and good-fellowship, and the delights of a roaring town? -It would be an experiment, in any case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, when he had got home and lit the gas, and sate -down to the jingling task, it was not so difficult, after all. -But there was an undernote running through these verses -that he had not contemplated when he set out. When the -first glow of getting them together was over, he looked -down the page, and then he put it away; in no -circumstances could this kind of song find its way into the -Harmony Club; and yet he was not altogether disappointed -that it was so.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O Glasgow lasses are fair enough,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And Glasgow lads are merry;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But I would be with my own dear maid,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A-wandering down Strath-Terry.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And she would be singing her morning song,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The song that the larks have taught her;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A song of the northern seas and hills,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And a song of Mudal-Water.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The bands go thundering through the streets,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The fifes and drums together;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Far rather I'd hear the grouse-cock crow</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Among the purple heather;</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And I would be on Ben Clebrig's brow,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To watch the red-deer stealing</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">In single file adown the glen</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And past the summer sheiling.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O Glasgow lasses are fair enough,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And Glasgow lads are merry;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But ah, for the voice of my own dear maid,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A-singing adown Strath-Terry!</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="inducements"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">INDUCEMENTS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Ronald's friendship with the hospitable widow and his -acquaintanceship with those three boon-companions of hers -grew apace; and many a merry evening they all of them -had together in the brilliant little parlour, Ronald singing -his own or any other songs without stint, the big skipper -telling elaborately facetious Highland stories, the widow -bountiful with her cigars and her whisky-toddy. And -yet he was ill, ill at ease. He would not admit to -himself, of course, that he rather despised these new -acquaintances—for were they not most generous and kind -towards him?—nor yet that the loud hilarity he joined in -was on his part at times a trifle forced. Indeed, he could -not very well have defined the cause of this disquietude -and restlessness and almost despair that was present to his -consciousness even when the laugh was at its loudest and -the glasses going round most merrily. But the truth was -he had begun to lose heart in his work. The first glow of -determination that had enabled him to withstand the -depression of the dull days and the monotonous labour had -subsided now. The brilliant future the Americans had -painted for him did not seem so attractive. Meenie was -away; perhaps never to be met with more; and the old -glad days that were filled with the light of her presence -were all gone now and growing ever more and more distant. -And in the solitude of the little room up there in the Port -Dundas Road—with the gray atmosphere ever present at -the windows, and the dull rumble of the carts and waggons -without—he was now getting into a habit of pushing aside -his books for a while, and letting his fancies go far afield; -insomuch that his heart seemed to grow more and more -sick within him, and more and more he grew to think that -somehow life had gone all wrong with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is in Glasgow a thoroughfare familiarly known as -Balmanno Brae. It is in one of the poorer neighbourhoods -of the town; and is in truth rather a squalid and uninteresting -place; but it has the one striking peculiarity of being -extraordinarily steep, having been built on the side of a -considerable hill. Now one must have a powerful imagination -to see in this long, abrupt, blue-gray thoroughfare—with -its grimy pavements and house-fronts, and its gutters -running with dirty water—any resemblance to the wide -slopes of Ben Clebrig and the carolling rills that flow down -to Loch Naver; but all the same Ronald had a curious -fancy for mounting this long incline, and that at the hardest -pace he could go. For sometimes, in that little room, he -felt almost like a caged animal dying for a wider air, a -more active work; and here at least was a height that -enabled him to feel the power of his knees; while the mere -upward progress was a kind of inspiriting thing, one always -having a vague fancy that one is going to see farther in -getting higher. Alas! there was but the one inevitable -termination to these repeated climbings; and that not the -wide panorama embracing Loch Loyal and Ben Hope and -the far Kyle of Tongue, but a wretched little lane called -Rotten Row—a double line of gloomy houses, with here -and there an older-fashioned cottage with a thatched roof, -and with everywhere pervading the close atmosphere an -odour of boiled herrings. And then again, looking back, -there was no yellow and wide-shining Strath-Terry, with its -knolls of purple heather and its devious rippling burns, but -only the great, dark, grim, mysterious city, weltering in its -smoke, and dully groaning, as it were, under the grinding -burden of its monotonous toil.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the Twelfth of August drew near he became more -and more restless. He had written to Lord Ailine to say -that, if he could be of any use, he would take a run up to -Inver-Mudal for a week or so, just to see things started for -the season; but Lord Ailine had considerately refused the -offer, saying that everything seemed going on well enough, -except, indeed, that Lugar the Gordon setter was in a fair -way of being spoilt, for that, owing to Ronald's parting -injunctions, there was not a man or boy about the place -would subject the dog to any kind of chastisement or -discipline whatever. And it sounded strange to Ronald to -hear that he was still remembered away up there in the -remote little hamlet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the morning of the day before the Twelfth his books -did not get much attention. He kept going to the window -to watch the arrivals at the railway station opposite, -wondering whether this one or that was off and away to the wide -moors and the hills. Then, about mid-day, he saw a young -lad bring up four dogs—a brace of setters, a small spaniel, -and a big brown retriever—and give them over in charge -to a porter. Well, human nature could not stand this any -longer. His books were no longer thought of; on went -his Glengarry cap; and in a couple of minutes he was -across the road and into the station, where the porter was -hauling the dogs along the platform.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Here, my man, I'll manage the doggies for ye,' he -said, getting hold of the chains and straps; and of -course the dogs at once recognised in him a natural -ally and were less alarmed. A shambling, bow-legged -porter hauling at them they could not understand at all; -but in the straight figure and sun-tanned cheek and -clear eye of the newcomer they recognised features -familiar to them; and then he spoke to them as if he -knew them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay, and what's your name, then?—Bruce, or Wallace, -or Soldier?—but there'll no be much work for you for a -while yet. It's you, you two bonnie lassies, that'll be -amongst the heather the morn; and well I can see ye'll -work together, and back each other, and just set an example -to human folk. And if ye show yourselves just a wee bit -eager at the beginning o' the day—well, well, well, we all -have our faults, and that one soon wears off. And what's -your names, then?—Lufra, or Nell, or Bess, or Fan? And -you, you wise auld chiel—I'm thinking ye could get a grip -o' a mallard that would make him imagine he had got back -into his mother's nest—you're a wise one—the Free Kirk -elder o' the lot'—for, indeed, the rest of them were all -pawing at him, and licking his hands, and whimpering their -friendship. The porter had to point out to him that he, -the porter, could not stand there the whole day with 'a wheen -dogs;' whereupon Ronald led these new companions of his -along to the dog-box that had been provided for them, and -there, when they had been properly secured, the porter left -him. Ronald could still talk to them however, and ask -them questions; and they seemed to understand well -enough: indeed, he had not spent so pleasant a half-hour -for many and many a day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There chanced to come along the platform a little, wiry, -elderly man, with a wholesome-looking weather-tanned face, -who was carrying a bundle of fishing-rods over his shoulder; -and seeing how Ronald was engaged he spoke to him in -passing and began to talk about the dogs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Perhaps they're your dogs?' Ronald said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, no, our folk are a' fishing folk,' said the little old -man, who was probably a gardener or something of the kind, -and who seemed to take readily to this new acquaintance. -'I've just been in to Glasgow to get a rod mended, and to -bring out a new one that the laird has bought for himself.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He grinned in a curious sarcastic way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'He's rather a wee man; and this rod—Lord sakes, ye -never saw such a thing! it would break the back o' a -Samson—bless ye, the butt o't's like a weaver's beam; and -for our gudeman to buy a thing like that—well, rich folk -hae queer ways o' spending their money.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was a friendly old man; and this joke of his -master having bought so tremendous an engine seemed to -afford him so much enjoyment that when Ronald asked -to be allowed to see this formidable weapon he said at -once—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Just you come along outside there, and we'll put it -thegither, and ye'll see what kind o' salmon-rod an old man -o' five foot five thinks he can cast wi'——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If it's no taking up too much of your time,' Ronald -suggested, but eager enough he was to get a salmon-rod -into his fingers again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I've three quarters of an hour to wait,' was the reply, -'for I canna make out they train books ava.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went out beyond the platform to an open space, -and very speedily the big rod was put together. It was -indeed an enormous thing; but a very fine rod, for all that; -and so beautifully balanced and so beautifully pliant that -Ronald, after having made one or two passes through the -air with it, could not help saying to the old man, and rather -wistfully too—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I suppose ye dinna happen to have a reel about ye?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That I have,' was the instant answer, 'and a brand new -hundred-yard line on it too. Would ye like to try a cast? -I'm thinking ye ken something about it.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an odd kind of place to try the casting-power of -a salmon-rod, this dismal no-man's-land of empty trucks -and rusted railway-points and black ashes; but no sooner -had Ronald begun to send out a good line—taking care to -recover it so that it should not fray itself along the gritty -ground—than the old man perceived he had to deal with -no amateur.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Man, ye're a dab, and no mistake! As clean a line as -ever I saw cast! It's no the first time </span><em class="italics">you've</em><span> handled a -salmon-rod, I'll be bound!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's the best rod I've ever had in my hand,' Ronald -said, as he began to reel in the line again. 'I'm much -obliged to ye for letting me try a cast—it's many a day now -since I threw a line.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They took the rod down and put it in its case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'm much obliged to ye,' Ronald repeated (for the mere -handling of this rod had fired his veins with a strange kind -of excitement). 'Will ye come and take a dram?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, thank ye, I'm a teetotaller,' said the other; and -then he glanced at Ronald curiously. 'But ye seem to ken -plenty about dogs and about fishing and so on—what are -ye doing in Glasgow and the morn the Twelfth? Ye are -not a town lad?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, I'm not; but I have to live in the town at present,' -was the answer. 'Well, good-day to ye; and many thanks -for the trial o' the rod.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Good-day, my lad; I wish I had your years and the -strength o' your shouthers.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In passing Ronald said good-bye again to the handsome -setters and the spaniel and the old retriever; and then he -went on and out of the station, but it was not to return to -his books. The seeing of so many people going away to the -north, the talking with the dogs, the trial of the big salmon-rod, -had set his brain a little wild. What if he were to go -back and beg of the withered old man to take him with -him—ay, even as the humblest of gillies, to watch, gaff in -hand, by the side of the broad silver-rippling stream, or to -work in a boat on a blue-ruffled loch! To jump into a -third-class carriage and know that the firm inevitable grip -of the engine was dragging him away into the clearer light, -the wider skies, the glad free air! No wonder they said -that fisher folk were merry folk; the very jolting of the -engine would in such a case have a kind of music in it; -how easily could one make a song that would match with -the swing of the train! It was in his head now, as he -rapidly and blindly walked away along the Cowcaddens, -and along the New City Road, and along the Western -Road—random rhymes, random verses, that the jolly -company could sing together as the engine thundered along—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Out of the station we rattle away,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Wi' a clangour of axle and wheel;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">There's a merrier sound that we knew in the north—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The merry, merry shriek of the reel!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O you that shouther the heavy iron gun,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And have steep, steep braes to speel—</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">We envy you not; enough is for us</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The merry, merry shriek of the reel!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">When the twenty-four pounder leaps in the air,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the line flies out with a squeal—</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O that is the blessedest sound upon earth,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The merry, merry shriek of the reel!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">So here's to good fellows!—for them that are not,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Let them gang and sup kail wi' the deil!</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">We've other work here—so look out, my lads,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For the first, sharp shriek of the reel!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>He did not care to put the rough-jolting verses down on -paper, for the farther and the more rapidly he walked away -out of the town the more was his brain busy with pictures -and visions of all that they would be doing at this very -moment at Inver-Mudal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'God bless me,' he said to himself, 'I could almost -swear I hear the dogs whimpering in the kennels.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There would be the young lads looking after the panniers -and the ponies; and the head-keeper up at the lodge -discussing with Lord Ailine the best way of taking the hill in -the morning, supposing the wind to remain in the same -direction; and Mr. Murray at the door of the inn, smoking -his pipe as usual; and the pretty Nelly indoors waiting -upon the shooting party just arrived from the south and -listening to all their wants. And Harry would be wondering, -amid all this new bustle and turmoil, why his master did -not put in an appearance; perhaps scanning each succeeding -dog-cart or waggonette that came along the road; and then, -not so blithe-spirited, making his way to the Doctor's house. -Comfort awaited him there, at all events; for Ronald had -heard that Meenie had taken pity on the little terrier, and -that it was a good deal oftener with her than at the inn. -Only all this seemed now so strange; the great dusk city -lay behind him like a nightmare from which he had but -partially escaped, and that with tightened breath; and he -seemed to be straining his ears to catch those soft and -friendly voices so far away. And then later on, as the -darkness fell, what would be happening there? The lads -would be coming along to the inn; lamps lit, and chairs -drawn in to the table; Mr. Murray looking in at times with -his jokes, and perhaps with a bit of a treat on so great an -occasion. And surely—surely—as they begin to talk of -this year and of last year and of the changes—surely some -one will say—perhaps Nelly, as she brings in the ale—but -surely some one will say—as a mere word of friendly -remembrance—'Well, I wish Ronald was here now with his -pipes, to play us </span><em class="italics">The Barren Rocks of Aden</em><span>? Only a single -friendly word of remembrance—it was all that he craved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He struck away south through Dowanhill and Partick, -and crossed the Clyde at Govan Ferry; then he made his -way back to the town and Jamaica Street bridge; and -finally, it being now dusk, looked in to see whether -Mrs. Menzies was at leisure for the evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's the matter, Ronald?' she said instantly, as he -entered, for she noticed that his look was careworn and -strange.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, Katie, lass, I don't quite know what's the -matter wi' me, but I feel as if I just couldna go back to -that room of mine and sit there by myself—at least not -yet; I think I've been put a bit daft wi' seeing the people -going away for the Twelfth; and if ye wouldna mind my -sitting here for a while with ye, for the sake o' company——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Mind!' she said. 'Mind! What I do mind is that -you should be ganging to that lodging-house at a', when -there's a room—and a comfortable room, though I say it -that shouldn't—in this very house at your disposal, -whenever ye like to bring your trunk till it. There it is—an -empty room, used by nobody—and who more welcome to -it than my ain cousin? I'll tell ye what, Ronald, my lad, -ye're wearing yoursel' away on a gowk's errand. Your -certificate! How do ye ken ye'll get your certificate? -How do ye ken ye will do such great things with it when -ye get it? You're a young man; you'll no be a young -man twice; what I say is, take your fling when ye can get -it! Look at Jimmy Laidlaw—he's off the first thing in -the morning to the Mearns—£15 for his share of the -shooting—do ye think he can shoot like you?—and why -should ye no have had your share too?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Well, it was very kind of you, Katie, woman, to make -the offer; but—but—there's a time for everything.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Man, I could have driven ye out every morning in the -dog-cart! and welcome. I'm no for having young folk -waste the best years of their life, and find out how little -use the rest o't's to them—no that I consider mysel' one -o' the auld folk yet——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'You, Katie dear!' whined old mother Paterson from -her millinery corner. 'You—just in the prime o' youth, -one micht say! you one o' the auld folk?—ay, in thirty -years' time maybe!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Take my advice, Ronald, my lad,' said the widow -boldly. 'Dinna slave away for naething—because folk -have put fancy notions into your head. Have a better -opinion o' yoursel'! Take your chance o' life when ye -can get it—books and books, what's the use o' books?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Too late now—I've made my bed and maun lie on it,' -he said gloomily; but then he seemed to try to shake off -this depression. 'Well, well, lass, Rome was not built in -a day. And if I were to throw aside my books, what -then? How would that serve? Think ye that that -would make it any the easier for me to get a three-weeks' -shooting wi' Jimmy Laidlaw?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And indeed ye might have had that in any case, and -welcome,' said Kate Menzies, with a toss of her head. -'Who is Jimmy Laidlaw, I wonder! But it's no use -arguin' wi' ye, Ronald, lad; he that will to Cupar maun to -Cupar;' only I dinna like to see ye looking just ill.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Enough said, lass; I didna come here to torment ye -with my wretched affairs,' he answered; and at this moment -the maidservant entered to lay the cloth for supper, while -Mrs. Menzies withdrew to make herself gorgeous for the -occasion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was left with old mother Paterson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's none so blind as them that winna see,' she -began, in her whining voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What is't?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay, ay,' she continued, in a sort of maundering -soliloquy, 'a braw woman like that—and free-handed as -the day—she could have plenty offers if she liked; But -there's none so blind as them that winna see. There's -Mr. Laidlaw there, a good-looking man, and wan wi' a -good penny at the bank; and wouldna he just jump at -the chance, if she had a nod or a wink for him? But -Katie was aye like that—headstrong; she would aye -have her ain way—and there she is, a single woman, a -braw, handsome, young woman—and weel provided for—weel -provided for—only it's no every one that takes -her fancy. A prize like that, to be had for the asking! -Dear me—but there's nane so blind as them that winna see.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not by any means the first time that mother -Paterson had managed to drop a few dark hints—and -much to his embarrassment, moreover, for he could not -pretend to ignore their purport. Nay, there was -something more than that. Kate Menzies's rough-and-ready -friendliness for her cousin had of late become more and -more pronounced—almost obtrusive, indeed. She wanted -to have the mastery of his actions altogether. She would -have him pitch his books aside and come for a drive with -her whether he was in the humour or no. She offered -him the occupancy of a room which, if it was not actually -within the tavern, communicated with it. She seemed -unable to understand why he should object to her paying -£15 to obtain for him a share in a small bit of conjoint -shooting out at the Mearns. And so forth in many ways. -Well, these things, taken by themselves, he might have -attributed to a somewhat tempestuous good-nature; but -here was this old woman, whenever a chance occurred, -whining about the folly of people who did not see that -Katie dear was so handsome and generous and so -marvellous a matrimonial prize. Nor could he very well tell -her to mind her own business, for that would be admitting -that he understood her hints.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, on this occasion he had not to listen long; -for presently Mrs. Menzies returned, smiling, good-natured, -radiant in further finery; and then they all had supper -together; and she did her best to console her cousin for -being cooped up in the great city on the eve of the -Twelfth. And Ronald was very grateful to her; and -perhaps, in his eager desire to keep up this flow of high -spirits, and to forget what was happening at Inver-Mudal -and about to happen, he may have drunk a little too -much; at all events, when Laidlaw and Jaap and the -skipper came in they found him in a very merry mood, -and Kate Menzies equally hilarious and happy. Songs?—he -was going to no Harmony Club that night, he -declared—he would sing them as many songs as ever they -liked—but he was not going to forsake his cousin. Nor -were the others the least unwilling to remain where they -were; for here they were in privacy, and the singing was -better, and the liquor unexceptionable. The blue smoke -rose quietly in the air; the fumes of Long John warmed -blood and brain; and then from time to time they heard -of the brave, or beautiful, or heart-broken maidens of -Scotch song—Maggie Lauder, or Nelly Munro, or Barbara -Allan, as the chance might be—and music and good -fellowship and whisky all combined to throw a romantic -halo round these simple heroines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But sing us one o' your own, Ronald, my lad—there's -none better, and that's what I say!' cried the widow; and -as she happened to be passing his chair at the time—going -to the sideboard for some more lemons, she slapped him -on the shoulder by way of encouragement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'One o' my own?' said he. 'But which—which—lass? -Oh, well, here's one.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lay back in his chair, and quite at haphazard and -carelessly and jovially began to sing—in that clearly -penetrating voice that neither tobacco smoke nor whisky seemed -to affect—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Roses white, roses red,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Roses in the lane,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Tell me, roses red and white,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Where is——</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And then suddenly something seemed to grip his heart. -But the stumble was only for the fiftieth part of a second. -He continued:</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Where is Jeannie gane?</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And so he finished the careless little verses. Nevertheless, -Kate Menzies, returning to her seat, had noticed that quick, -instinctive pulling of himself up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And who's Jeannie when she's at home?' she asked -saucily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Jeannie?' he said, with apparent indifference. 'Jeannie? -There's plenty o' that name about.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay; and how many o' them are at Inver-Mudal?' she -asked, regarding him shrewdly, and with an air which he -resented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the little incident passed. There was more singing, -drinking, smoking, talking of nonsense and laughing. -And at last the time came for the merry companions to -separate; and he went away home through the dark streets -alone. He had drunk too much, it must be admitted; -but he had a hard head; and he had kept his wits about -him; and even now as he ascended the stone stairs to his -lodgings he remembered with a kind of shiver, and also -with not a little heartfelt satisfaction, how he had just -managed to save himself from bringing Meenie's name -before that crew.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="entanglements"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ENTANGLEMENTS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And then came along the great evening on which the first -of Ronald's songs that Mr. Jaap had set to music was to -be sung at the Harmony Club. Ronald had unluckily got -into the way of going a good deal to that club. It was a -relief from weary days and vain regrets; it was a way of -escape from the too profuse favours that Kate Menzies -wished to shower upon him. Moreover, he had become -very popular there. His laugh was hearty; his jokes and -sarcasms were always good-natured; he could drink with -the best without getting quarrelsome. His acquaintanceship -rapidly extended; his society was eagerly bid for, in -the rough-and-ready fashion that prevails towards midnight; -and long after the club was closed certain of these -boon-companions would 'keep it up' in this or the other -bachelor's lodgings, while through the open window there -rang out into the empty street the oft-repeated chorus—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'We are na fou', we're nae that fou',</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But just a drappie in our e'e;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The cock may craw, the day may daw,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And aye we'll taste the barky bree!'</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The night-time seemed to go by so easily; the daytime -was so slow. He still did his best, it is true, to get on with -this work that had so completely lost all its fascination for -him; and he tried hard to banish dreams. For one thing, -he had gathered together all the fragments of verse he had -written about Meenie, and had added thereto the little -sketch of Inver-Mudal she had given him; and that parcel -he had resolutely locked away, so that he should no longer -be tempted to waste the hours in idle musings, and in -useless catechising of himself as to how he came to be -in Glasgow at all. He had forborne to ask from Maggie -the answer that Meenie had sent to her letter. In truth, -there were many such; for there was almost a constant -correspondence between these two; and as the chief -subject of Maggie's writings was always and ever Ronald, -there were no doubt references to him in the replies that -came from Inver-Mudal. But he only heard vaguely of -these; he did not call often at his brother's house; and -he grew to imagine that the next definite news he would -hear about Meenie would be to the effect that she had -been sent to live with the Stuarts of Glengask, with a view -to her possible marriage with some person in their rank of -life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a goodly to-do at the Harmony Club on the -evening of the production of the new song; for Ronald, as -has been said, was much of a favourite; and his friends -declared that if Jaap's music was at all up to the mark, -then the new piece would be placed on the standard and -permanent list. Mr. Jaap's little circle, on the other -hand, who had heard the air, were convinced that the -refrain would be caught at once; and as the success of -the song seemed thus secure, Mrs. Menzies had resolved -to celebrate the occasion by a supper after the -performance, and Jimmy Laidlaw had presented her, for that -purpose, with some game which he declared was of his -own shooting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What's the use o' making such a fuss about nothing?' -Ronald grumbled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What?' retorted the big skipper facetiously. 'Naething? -Is bringing out a new poet naething?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now this drinking song, as it turned out, was a very -curious kind of drinking song. Observe that it was written -by a young fellow of eight-and-twenty; of splendid physique, -and of as yet untouched nerve, who could not possibly -have had wide experience of the vanities and disappointments -of human life. What iron had entered into his soul, -then, that a gay and joyous drinking song should have -been written in this fashion?—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Good friends and neighbours, life is short,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And man, they say, is made to mourn;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Dame Fortune makes us all her sport,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And laughs our very best to scorn:</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Well, well; we'll have, if that be so,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A merry glass before we go.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The blue-eyed lass will change her mind,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And give her kisses otherwhere;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And she'll be cruel that was kind,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And pass you by with but a stare:</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Well, well; we'll have, if that be so,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A merry glass before we go.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The silly laddie sits and fills</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Wi' dreams and schemes the first o' life;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And then comes heap on heap o' ills,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And squalling bairns and scolding wife:</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Well, well; we'll have, if that be so,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A merry glass before we go.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Come stir the fire and make us warm;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The night without is dark and wet;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">An hour or twa 'twill do nae harm</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The dints o' fortune to forget:</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">So now will have, come weal or woe,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Another glass before we go.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">To bonny lasses, honest blades,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">We'll up and give a hearty cheer;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Contention is the worst of trades—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">We drink their health, both far and near:</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And so we'll have, come weal or woe,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Another glass before we go.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And here's ourselves!—no much to boast;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For man's a wean that lives and learns;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And some win hame, and some are lost;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But still—we're all John Thomson's bairns!</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">So here, your hand!—come weal or woe,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Another glass before we go!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'</span><em class="italics">And some win hame, and some are lost</em><span>'—this was a -curious note to strike in a bacchanalian song; but of course -in that atmosphere of tobacco and whisky and loud-voiced -merriment such minor touches were altogether unnoticed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Gentlemen,' called out the rubicund chairman, rapping -on the table, 'silence, if you please. Mr. Aikman is about -to favour us with a new song written by our recently-elected -member, Mr. Ronald Strang, the music by our old friend -Mr. Jaap. Silence—silence, if you please.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Aikman, who was a melancholy-looking youth, with -a white face, straw-coloured hair, and almost colourless eyes, -stepped on to the platform, and after the accompanist had -played a few bars of prelude, began the song. Feeble as -the young man looked, he had, notwithstanding, a powerful -baritone voice; and the air was simple, with a well-marked -swing in it; so that the refrain—at first rather uncertain -and experimental—became after the first verse more and -more general, until it may be said that the whole room -formed the chorus. And from the very beginning it was -clear that the new song was going to be a great success. -Any undercurrent of reflection—or even of sadness—there -might be in it was not perceived at all by this roaring -assemblage; the refrain was the practical and actual thing; -and when once they had fairly grasped the air, they sang -the chorus with a will. Nay, amid the loud burst of -applause that followed the last verse came numerous cries -for an encore; and these increased until the whole room -was clamorous; and then the pale-faced youth had to step -back on to the platform and get through all of the verses -again.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'So here, your hand!—come weal or woe,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Another glass before we go!'</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>roared the big skipper and Jimmy Laidlaw with the best of -them; and then in the renewed thunder of cheering that -followed—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Man, I wish Kate Menzies was here,' said the one; and—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Your health, Ronald, lad; ye've done the trick this -time,' said the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Gentlemen,' said the chairman, again calling them to -silence, 'I propose that the thanks of the club be given to -these two members whom I have named, and who have -kindly allowed us to place this capital song on our -permanent list.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I second that, Mr. Chairman,' said a little, round, fat -man, with a beaming countenance and a bald head; 'and -I propose that we sing that song every night just afore we -leave.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this last suggestion was drowned amidst laughter and -cries of dissent. 'What?—instead of "Auld Lang Syne"?' -'Ye're daft, John Campbell.' 'Would ye hae the ghost o' -Robbie Burns turning up?' Indeed, the chairman had to -interpose and suavely say that while the song they had just -heard would bring any such pleasant evenings as they spent -together to an appropriate close, still, they would not disturb -established precedent; there would be many occasions, he -hoped, for them to hear this production of two of their -most talented members.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the interval of noise and talk and laughter that -followed, it seemed to Ronald that half the people in the -hall wanted him to drink with them. Fame came to him -in the shape of unlimited proffers of glasses of whisky; and -he experienced so much of the delight of having become a -public character as consisted in absolute strangers assuming -the right to make his acquaintance off-hand. Of course -they were all members of the same club; and in no case -was very strict etiquette observed within these four walls; -nevertheless Ronald found that he had immediately and -indefinitely enlarged the circle of his acquaintance; and -that this meant drink.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Another glass?' he said, to one of those strangers who -had thus casually strolled up to the table where he sate. -'My good friend, there was nothing said in that wretched -song about a caskful. I've had too many other ones -already.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, relief came; the chairman hammered on the -table; the business of the evening was resumed; and the -skipper, Jaap, Laidlaw, and Ronald were left to -themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now there is no doubt that this little circle of friends -was highly elated over the success of the new song; and -Ronald had been pleased enough to hear the words he had -written so quickly caught up and echoed by that, to him, -big assemblage. Probably, too, they had all of them, in -the enthusiasm of the moment, been somewhat liberal in -their cups; at all events, a little later on in the evening, -when Jimmy Laidlaw stormily demanded that Ronald should -sing a song from the platform—to show them what East -Lothian could do, as Kate Menzies had said—Ronald did -not at once, as usual, shrink from the thought of facing so -large an audience. It was the question of the accompaniment, -he said. He had had no practice in singing to a -piano. He would put the man out. Why should he not -sing here—if sing he must—at the table where they were -sitting? That was what he was used to; he had no skill -in keeping correct time; he would only bother the -accompanist, and bewilder himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'No, I'll tell ye what it is, Ronald, my lad,' his friend -Jaap said to him. 'I'll play the accompaniment for ye, if -ye pick out something I'm familiar wi'; and don't you heed -me; you look after yourself. Even if ye change the key—and -that's not likely—I'll look after ye. Is't a bargain?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, he was not afraid—on this occasion. It was -announced from the chair that Mr. Ronald Strang, to whom -they were already indebted, would favour the company with -'The MacGregors' Gathering,' accompanied by Mr. Jaap; -and in the rattle of applause that followed this announcement, -Ronald made his way across the floor and went up -the couple of steps leading to the platform. Why he had -consented he hardly knew, nor did he stay to ask. It -was enough that he had to face this long hall, and its -groups of faces seen through the pale haze of the tobacco -smoke; and then the first notes of the piano startled him -into the necessity of getting into the same key. He -began—a little bewildered, perhaps, and hearing his own voice -too consciously—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the clan has a name that is nameless by day.'</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Louder, man, louder!' the accompanist muttered, -under his breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whether it was this admonition, or whether it was that -he gained confidence from feeling himself in harmony with -the firm-struck notes of the accompaniment, his voice rose -in clearness and courage, and he got through the first verse -with very fair success. Nay, when he came to the second, -and the music went into a pathetic minor, the sensitiveness -of his ear still carried him through bravely—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Glenorchy's proud mountains, Colchurn and her towers,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Glenstrae and Glen Lyon no longer are ours—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">We're landless, landless, landless, Gregalach.'</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>All this was very well done; for he began to forget his -audience a little, and to put into his singing something of -the expression that had come naturally enough to him when -he was away on the Clebrig slopes or wandering along -Strath-Terry. As for the audience—when he had finished -and stepped back to his seat—they seemed quite electrified. -Not often had such a clear-ringing voice penetrated that -murky atmosphere. But nothing would induce Ronald to -repeat the performance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What made me do it?' he kept asking himself. 'What -made me do it? Bless me, surely I'm no fou'?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye've got a most extraordinarily fine voice, Mr. Strang,' -the chairman said, in his most complaisant manner, 'I hope -it's not the last time ye'll favour us.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ronald did not answer this. He seemed at once moody -and restless. Presently he said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come away, lads, come away. In God's name let's -get a breath o' fresh air—the smoke o' this place is like the -bottomless pit.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Then let's gang down and have a chat wi' Kate Menzies,' -said Jimmy Laidlaw at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye're after that supper, Jimmy!' the big skipper said -facetiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What for no? Would ye disappoint the woman; and -her sae anxious to hear what happened to Strang's poetry? -Come on, Ronald—she'll be as proud as Punch. And -we'll tell her about "The MacGregors' Gathering"'—she -said East Lothian would show them something.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Very well, then—very well; anything to get out o' -here,' Ronald said; and away they all went down to the -tavern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The widow received them most graciously; and very -sumptuous indeed was the entertainment she had provided -for them. She knew that the drinking song would be -successful—if the folk had common sense and ears. And -he had sung 'The MacGregors' Gathering' too?—well, had -they ever heard singing like that before?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But they have been worrying you?' she said, glancing -shrewdly at him. 'Or, what's the matter—ye look down -in the mouth—indeed, Ronald, ye've never looked yoursel' -since the night ye came in here just before the -grouse-shooting began. Here, man, drink a glass o' champagne; -that'll rouse ye up.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old mother Paterson was at this moment opening a bottle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not one other drop of anything, Katie, lass, will I -drink this night,' Ronald said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What? A lively supper we're likely to have, then!' -the widow cried. 'Where's your spunk, man? I think -ye're broken-hearted about some lassie—that's what it is! -Here, now.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She brought him the foaming glass of champagne; but -he would not look at it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And if I drink to your health out o' the same glass?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She touched the glass with her lips.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There, now, if you're a man, ye'll no refuse noo.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor could he. And then the supper came along; and -there was eating and talking and laughing and further -drinking, until a kind of galvanised hilarity sprang up once -more amongst them. And she would have Ronald declare -to them which of the lasses in Sutherlandshire it was who -had broken his heart for him; and, in order to get her -away from that subject, he was very amenable in her hands, -and would do anything she bade him, singing first one -song and then another, and not refusing the drinking of -successive toasts. As for the others, they very prudently -declined having anything to do with champagne. But -Ronald was her pet, her favourite; and she had got a -special box of cigars for him—all wrapped up in silverfoil -and labelled; and she would have them tell her over and -over again how Ronald's voice sounded in the long hall when -he sang—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Glenstrae and Glen Lyon no longer are ours?</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>and she would have them tell her again of the thunders of -cheering that followed—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Well, well; we'll have, if that be so,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Another glass before we go.'</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nay, she would have them try a verse or two of it there -and then—led by Mr. Jaap; and she herself joined in the -chorus; and they clinked their glasses together, and were -proud of their vocalisation and their good comradeship. -Indeed, they prolonged this jovial evening as late as the -law allowed them; and then the widow said gaily—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's that poor man thinks I'm gaun to allow him -to gang away to that wretched hole o' a lodging o' his, -where he's just eating his heart out wi' solitariness and a -wheen useless books. But I'm not. I ken better than -that, Ronald, my lad. Whilst ye've a' been singing and -roaring, I've had a room got ready for ye; and there ye'll -sleep this night, my man—for I'm not going to hae ye -march away through the lonely streets, and maybe cut -your throat ere daybreak; and ye can lock yourself in, if -ye're feared that any warlock or bogle is likely to come -and snatch ye; and in the morning ye'll come down and -have your breakfast wi' auntie Paterson and me—and -then—what then? What do ye think? When the dog-cart's -at the door, and me gaun to drive ye oot to Campsie -Glen? There, laddie, that's the programme; and wet or -dry is my motto. If it's wet we'll sing "Come under my -plaidie"; and we'll take a drop o' something comfortable -wi' us to keep out the rain.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I wish I was gaun wi' ye, Mistress,' the big skipper said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Two's company and three's none,' said Kate Menzies, -with a frank laugh. 'Is't a bargain, Ronald?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's a bargain, lass; and there's my hand on't,' he said. -'Now, where's this room—for I don't know whether it has -been the smoke, or the singing, or the whisky, or all o' -them together, but my head's like a ship sailing before the -wind, without any helm to steer her.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Your head!' she said proudly. 'Your head's like -iron, man; there's nothing the matter wi' ye. And here's -Alec—he'll show you where your room is; and in the -morning ring for whatever ye want; mind ye, a glass o' -champagne and angostura bitters is just first-rate; and we'll -have breakfast at whatever hour ye please—and then we'll -be off to Campsie Glen.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little party now broke up, each going his several -way; and Ronald, having bade them all good-night, -followed the ostler-lad Alec along one or two gloomy -corridors until he found the room that had been prepared for -him. As he got to bed he was rather sick and sorry about -the whole night's proceedings, he scarcely knew why; and -his thinking faculty was in a nebulous condition; and he -only vaguely knew that he would rather not have pledged -himself to go to Campsie Glen on the following morning. -No matter—'</span><em class="italics">another glass before we go</em><span>,' that was the last of -the song they had all shouted: he had forgotten that other -line—'</span><em class="italics">and some win hame, and some are lost</em><span>.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="campsie-glen"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">CAMPSIE GLEN.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The next morning, between nine and ten o'clock, there was -a rapping at his door, and then a further rapping, and then -he awoke—confused, uncertain as to his whereabouts, and -with his head going like a threshing machine. Again there -came the loud rapping.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Come in, then,' he called aloud.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door was opened, and there was the young widow, -smiling and jocund as the morn, and very smartly attired; -and alongside of her was a servant-lass bearing a small tray, -on which were a tumbler, a pint bottle of champagne, and -some angostura bitters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Bless me, woman,' he said, 'I was wondering where -I was. And what's this now?—do ye want to make a -drunkard o' me?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not I,' said Kate Menzies blithely, 'I want to make a -man o' ye. Ye'll just take a glass o' this, Ronald, my lad; -and then ye'll get up and come down to breakfast; for -we're going to have a splendid drive. The weather's as -bright and clear as a new shilling; and I've been up since -seven o'clock, and I'm free for the day now. Here ye are, -lad; this'll put some life into ye.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She shook a few drops of bitters into the tumbler, and -then poured out a foaming measure of the amber-coloured -wine, and offered it to him. He refused to take it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I canna look at it, lass. There was too much o' that -going last night.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And the very reason you should take a glass now!' -she said. 'Well, I'll leave it on the mantelpiece, and ye -can take it when ye get up. Make haste, Ronald, lad; it's -a pity to lose so fine a morning.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they had left, he dressed as rapidly as possible, -and went down. Breakfast was awaiting him—though it -did not tempt him much. And then, by and by, the -smart dog-cart was at the door; and a hamper was put in; -and Kate Menzies got up and took the reins. There was -no sick-and-sorriness about her at all events. She was -radiant and laughing and saucy; she wore a driving-coat -fastened at the neck by a horse-shoe brooch of brilliants, -and a white straw hat with a wide-sweeping jet-black ostrich -feather. It was clear that the tavern was a paying concern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'And why will ye aye sit behind, Mr. Strang?' old -mother Paterson whined, as she made herself comfortable -in front. 'I am sure Katie would rather have ye here than -an auld wife like me. Ye could talk to her ever so much -better.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'That would be a way to go driving through Glasgow -town,' he said, as he swung himself up on the back seat; -'a man in front and a woman behind! Never you fear; -there can be plenty of talking done as it is.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But as they drove away through the city—and even -Glasgow looked quite bright and cheerful on this sunny -morning, and there was a stirring of cool air that was -grateful enough to his throbbing temples—it appeared that -the buxom widow wanted to have most of the talking to -herself. She was very merry; and laughed at his penitential -scorn of himself; and was for spurring him on to -further poetical efforts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'East Lothian for ever!' she was saying, as they got -away out by the north of the town. 'Didna I tell them? -Ay, and ye've got to do something better yet, Ronald, my -lad, than the "other glass before we go." You're no -at that time o' life yet to talk as if everything had gone -wrong; and the blue-eyed lass—what blue-eyed lass was it, -I wonder, that passed ye by with but a stare? Let her, -and welcome, the hussy; there's plenty others. But no, my -lad, what I want ye to write is a song about Scotland, and -the East Lothian part o't especially. Ye've no lived long -enough in the Hielans to forget your ain country, have -ye? and where's there a song about Scotland nowadays? -"Caledonia's hills and dales"?—stuff!—I wonder Jaap -would hae bothered his head about rubbish like that. No, -no; we'll show them whether East Lothian canna do the -trick!—and it's no the Harmony Club but the City Hall -o' Glasgow that ye'll hear that song sung in—that's better -like! Ye mind what Robbie says, Ronald, my lad?—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'E'en then a wish, I mind its power—</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A wish that to my latest hour</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Shall strongly heave my breast—</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That I for poor auld Scotland's sake,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Some usefu' plan or book could make,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Or sing a sang at least.'</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That's what ye've got to do yet, my man.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so they bowled along the wide whinstone road, out -into this open landscape that seemed to lie behind a thin -veil of pale-blue smoke. It was the country, no doubt; but -a kind of sophisticated country; there were occasional -grimy villages and railway-embankments and canals and -what not; and the pathway that ran alongside the wide -highway was of black ashes—not much like a Sutherlandshire -road. However, as they got still farther away from -the town matters improved. There were hedges and -woods—getting a touch of the golden autumn on their -foliage now; the landscape grew brighter; those hills far -ahead of them rose into a fairly clear blue sky. And then -the brisk motion and the fresher air seemed to drive away -from him the dismal recollections of the previous night; he -ceased to upbraid himself for having been induced to sing -before all those people; he would atone for the recklessness -of his potations by taking greater care in the future. -So that when in due course of time they reached the inn -at the foot of Campsie Glen, and had the horse and trap -put up, and set out to explore the beauties of that not too -savage solitude, he was in a sufficiently cheerful frame of -mind, and Kate Menzies had no reason to complain of her -companion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had brought a luncheon basket with them; and as -he had refused the proffered aid of a stable-lad, he had to -carry this himself, and Kate Menzies was a liberal provider. -Accordingly, as they began to make their way up the steep -and slippery ascent—for rain had recently fallen, and the -narrow path was sloppy enough—he had to leave the two -women to look after themselves; and a fine haphazard -scramble and hauling and pushing—with screams of fright -and bursts of laughter—ensued. This was hardly the proper -mood in which to seek out Nature in her sylvan retreats; -but the truth is that the glen itself did not wear a very -romantic aspect. No doubt there were massive boulders in -the bed of the stream; and they had to clamber past -precipitous rocks; and overhead was a wilderness of foliage. -But everything was dull-hued somehow, and damp-looking, -and dismal; the green-mossed boulders, the stems of the -trees, the dark red earth were all of a sombre hue; while -here and there the eye caught sight of a bit of newspaper, -or of an empty soda-water bottle, or perchance of the -non-idyllic figure of a Glasgow youth seated astride a -fallen bough, a pot-hat on his head and a Manilla cheroot -in his mouth. But still, it was more of the country than -the Broomielaw; and when Kate and her companion had -to pause in their panting struggle up the slippery path, -and after she had recovered her breath sufficiently to -demand a halt, she would turn to pick ferns from the -dripping rocks, or to ask Ronald if there were any more -picturesque place than this in Sutherlandshire. Now -Ronald was not in the least afflicted by the common curse -of travellers—the desire for comparison; he was well -content to say that it was a 'pretty bit glen'; for one thing -his attention was chiefly devoted to keeping his footing, for -the heavy basket was a sore encumbrance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, after some further climbing, they reached -certain drier altitudes; and there the hamper was deposited, -while they looked out for such trunks or big stones as -would make convenient seats. The old woman was speechless -from exhaustion; Kate was laughing at her own -breathlessness, or miscalling the place for having dirtied -her boots and her skirts; while Ronald was bringing things -together for their comfort, so that they could have their -luncheon in peace. This was not quite the same kind of -a luncheon party as that he had attended on the shores of -the far northern loch—with Miss Carry complacently -regarding the silver-clear salmon lying on the smooth, dry -greensward; and the American talking in his friendly -fashion of the splendid future that lay before a capable -and energetic young fellow in the great country beyond the -seas; while all around them the sweet air was blowing, and -the clear light shining, and the white clouds sailing high -over the Clebrig slopes. Things were changed with him -since then—he did not himself know how much they had -changed. But in all circumstances he was abundantly -good-natured and grateful for any kindness shown him; -and as Kate Menzies had projected this trip mainly on his -account, he did his best to promote good-fellowship, and -was serviceable and handy, and took her raillery in excellent -part.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Katie dear,' whimpered old mother Paterson, as Ronald -took out the things from the hamper, 'ye jist spoil every one -that comes near ye. Such extravagance—such waste—many's -the time I wish ye would get married, and have a -man to look after ye——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Stop your havering—who would marry an auld woman -like me?' said Mrs. Menzies with a laugh. 'Ay, and what's -the extravagance, noo, that has driven ye oot o' your mind?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Champagne again!' the old woman said, shaking her -head. 'Champagne again! Dear me, it's like a Duke's -house——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What, ye daft auld craytur? Would ye have me take -my cousin Ronald for his first trip to Campsie Glen, and -bring out a gill o' whisky in a soda-water bottle?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Indeed, Katie, lass, ye needna have brought one thing -or the other for me,' he said. 'It's a drop o' water, and -nothing else, that will serve my turn.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We'll see about that,' she said confidently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her provisioning was certainly of a sumptuous nature—far -more sumptuous, indeed, than the luncheons the rich -Americans used to have carried down for them to the -lochside, and a perfect banquet as compared with the frugal -bit of cold beef and bread that Lord Ailine and his friends -allowed themselves on the hill. Then, as regards the -champagne, she would take no refusal—he had to submit. -She was in the gayest of moods; she laughed and joked; -nay, at one point, she raised her glass aloft, and waved it -round her head, and sang—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'O send Lewie Gordon hame,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the lad I daurna name;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Though his back be at the wa',</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Here's to him that's far awa'!'</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'What, what, lass?' Ronald cried grimly. 'Are ye -thinking ye're in a Highland glen? Do ye think it was -frae places like this that the lads were called out to follow -Prince Charlie?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I carena—I carena!' she said; for what had trivial -details of history to do with a jovial picnic in Campsie -Glen? 'Come, Ronald, lad, tune up! Hang the Harmony -Club!—give us a song in the open air!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Here goes, then—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'It was about the Martinmas time,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And a gay time it was then, O,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That our guidwife had puddins to mak',</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And she boiled them in the fan, O'—</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>and then rang out the chorus, even the old mother -Paterson joining in with a feeble treble—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'O the barrin' o' our door, weel, weel, weel,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And the barrin' o' our door, weel!'</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>'Your health and song, Ronald!' she cried, when he -had finished—or rather when they all had finished. 'Man, -if there was just a laddie here wi' a fiddle or a penny -whistle I'd get up and dance a Highland Schottische wi' -ye—auld as I am!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After luncheon, they set out for further explorations -(having deposited the basket in a secret place) and always -Kate Menzies's laugh was the loudest, her jokes the -merriest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Auld, say ye?' mother Paterson complained. 'A -lassie—a very lassie! Ye can skip about like a -twa-year-auld colt.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by they made their devious and difficult way -down the glen again; and they had tea at the inn; and -then they set out to drive back to Glasgow—and there was -much singing the while. That is, up to a certain point; -for this easy homeward drive, as it turned out, was destined -to be suddenly and sharply stopped short, and that in a -way that might have produced serious consequences. They -were bowling merrily along, taking very little heed of -anything on either side of them, when, as it chanced, a small -boy who had gone into a field to recover a kite that had -dropped there, came up unobserved behind the hedge, and -threw the kite over, preparatory to his struggling through -himself. The sudden appearance of this white thing -startled the cob; it swerved to the other side of the road, -hesitated, and was like to rear, and then getting an -incautious cut from Kate's whip, away it tore along the highway, -getting completely the mastery of her. Ronald got up -behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Give me the reins, lass,' he called to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I'll manage him—the stupid beast!' she said; with -her teeth shut firm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But all her pulling seemed to make no impression on -the animal—nay, the trap was now swaying and jolting -about in a most ominous manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'If ye meet anything, we're done for, Kate—run the -wheel into the hedge.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was excellent advice, if it could have been properly -followed; but unluckily, just at the very moment when, -with all her might and main, she twisted the head of the -cob to the side of the road, there happened to be a deep -ditch there. Over the whole thing went—Ronald and -Mrs. Menzies being pitched clean into the hedge; mother -Paterson, not hanging on so well, being actually deposited -on the other side, but in a gradual fashion. Oddly enough, -the cob, with one or two pawings of his forefeet, got on to -the road again, and the trap righted itself; while a farm-lad -who had been coming along ran to the beast's head and -held him. As it turned out, there was no harm done at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But that, at first, was apparently not Kate Menzies's -impression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald, Ronald,' she cried, and she clung to him -frantically, 'I'm dying—I'm dying—kiss me!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had got a grip of her, and was getting her on to her -feet again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's nothing the matter wi' ye, woman,' he said, -with unnecessary roughness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ronald, Ronald—I'm hurt—I'm dying—kiss me!' -she cried, and she would have fallen away from him, but -that he gathered her up, and set her upright on the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'There's nothing the matter wi' ye—what? tumbling -into a hawthorn hedge?—pull yourself together, woman! -It's old mother Paterson that may have been hurt.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He left her unceremoniously to get over to the other -side of the hedge, and as he went off she darted a look -of anger—of violent rage, even—towards him, which -happily he did not see. Moreover, she had to calm -herself; the farm lad was looking on. And when at -length mother Paterson—who was merely terrified, and -was quite uninjured—was hoisted over or through the -hedge, and they all prepared to resume their seats in the -trap, Kate Menzies was apparently quite collected and -mistress of herself, though her face was somewhat pale, -and her manner was distinctly reserved and cold. She -gave the lad a couple of shillings; got up and took the -reins; waited until the others were seated, and then drove -away without a word. Mother Paterson was loud in her -thankfulness over such a providential escape; she had only -had her wrists scratched slightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ronald was sensible of her silence, though he could not -well guess the cause of it. Perhaps the fright had sobered -down her high spirits; at all events, she was now more -circumspect with her driving; and, as her attention was so -much devoted to the cob, it was not for him to interfere. -As they drew near Glasgow, however, she relaxed the cold -severity of her manner, and made a few observations; and -when they came in sight of St. Rollox, she even -condescended to ask him whether he would not go on with -them to the tavern and have some supper with them as -usual.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I ought to go back to my work,' said he, 'and that's -the truth. But it would be a glum ending for such an -unusual holiday as this.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Your prospects are not so very certain,' said Kate, who -could talk excellent English when she chose, and kept her -broad Scotch for familiar or affectionate intercourse. 'An -hour or two one way or the other is not likely to make -much difference.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I am beginning to think that myself,' he said, rather -gloomily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then, with a touch of remorse for the depressing -speech she had made, she tried to cheer him a little; and, -in fact, insisted on his going on with them. She even -quoted a couplet from his own song to him—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'An hour or twa 'twill do nae harm,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The dints a' fortune to forget';</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>and she said that, after the long drive, he ought to have -a famous appetite for supper, and that there would be a -good story to tell about their being shot into a hawthorn -hedge, supposing that the skipper and Laidlaw and Jaap -came in in the evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, all during the evening there was a certain -restraint in her manner. Altogether gone was her profuse -friendship and her pride in East Lothian, although she -remained as hospitable as ever. Sometimes she regarded him -sharply, as if trying to make out something. On his part, -he thought she was probably a little tired after the fatigues -of the day; perhaps, also, he preferred her quieter manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then again, when the 'drei Gesellen' came in, there -was a little less hilarity than usual; and, contrary to her -wont, she did not press them to stay when they proposed -to adjourn to the club. Ronald, who had been vaguely -resolving not to go near that haunt for some time to come, -found that that was the alternative to his returning to his -solitary lodging and his books at a comparatively early -hour of the evening. Doubtless he should have conquered -his repugnance to this later course; but the temptation—after -a long day of pleasure-making—to finish up the last -hour or so in the society of these good fellows was great. -He went to the Harmony Club, and was made more -welcome than ever; and somehow, in the excitement of the -moment, he was induced to sing another song, and there -were more people than ever claiming his acquaintance, and -challenging him to have 'another one.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-downward-way"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE DOWNWARD WAY.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>With a fatal certainty he was going from bad to worse; -and there was no one to warn him; and if any one had -warned him, probably he would not have cared. Life had -come to be for him a hopeless and useless thing. His -own instinct had answered true, when the American was -urging him to go and cast himself into the eager strife of -the world, and press forward to the universal goal of wealth -and ease and independence. 'I'd rather be "where the -dun deer lie,"' he had said. Kingsley's poem had taken -firm root in his mind, simply because it found natural soil -there.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Nor I wadna be a clerk, mither, to bide aye ben,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Scrabbling ower the sheets o' parchment with a weary, weary pen:</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Looking through the lang stane windows at a narrow strip o' sky,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Like a laverock in a withy cage, until I pine away and die.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ye'll bury me 'twixt the brae and the burn, in a glen far away,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Where I may hear the heathcock craw and the great harts bray;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And gin my ghaist can walk, mither, I'll go glowering at the sky,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The livelong night on the black hillsides where the dun deer lie.'</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>His way of existence up there on the far hillsides—unlike -that of the luckless outlaw—had been a perfectly happy -and contented one. His sound common sense had put -away from him that craving for fame which has rendered -so miserable the lives of many rustic verse writers; he was -proud of his occupation, grateful to the good friends around -him, and always in excellent health and spirits. Another -thing has to be said—to pacify the worthy folk who -imagine that ambition must necessarily fill the mind of -youth: had he come away from that sphere of careless -content with a sufficient aim to strive for, perhaps affairs -might have gone differently. If it could have been said to -him: 'Fight your way to the worldly success that the -Americans have so liberally prophesied for you; and then -come back, and you will find Meenie Douglas awaiting -you; and you shall win her and wear her, as the rose and -crown of your life, in spite of all the Stuarts of -Glengask'—then the little room in Port Dundas Road would no -longer have been so gray; and all the future would have -been filled with light and hope; and the struggle, however -arduous and long, would have been glad enough. But -with no such hope; with increasing doubts as to his -ultimate success; and with a more dangerously increasing -indifference as to whether he should ever reach that -success, the temptations of the passing hour became -irresistibly strong. And he became feebler to resist them. -He did not care. After all, these gay evenings at the -Harmony Club were something to look forward to during -the long dull days; with a full glass and a good-going pipe -and a roaring chorus the hours passed; and then from -time to time there was the honour and glory of hearing -one of his own songs sung. He was a great figure at these -gatherings now; that kind of fame at least had come to -him, and come to him unsought; and there were not -wanting a sufficiency of rather muddle-headed creatures -who declared that he was fit to rank with very distinguished -names indeed in the noble roll-call of Scotland's poets; -and who, unfortunately, were only too eager to prove the -faith that was in them by asking him to drink at their -expense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this rhyming direction there was one very curious -point: when he began to turn over the various pieces that -might be made available for Mr. Jaap, he was himself -astonished to find how little melody there was in them. -Whatever little musical faculty he had seemed to be all -locked up in the love-verses he had written about Meenie. -Many of the fragments had other qualities—homely -common sense; patriotism; a great affection for dumb -animals; here and there sometimes a touch of humour or -pathos; but somehow they did not </span><em class="italics">sing</em><span>. It is true that -the following piece—</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="italics">SHOUTHER TO SHOUTHER.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">From Hudson's Bay to the Rio Grand',</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The Scot is ever a rover;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">In New South Wales and in Newfoundland,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And all the wide world over;</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Chorus: But it's shouther to shouther, my bonnie lads,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And let every Scot be a brither;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And we'll work as we can, and we'll win if we can,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For the sake of our auld Scotch mither.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">She's a puir auld wife, wi' little to give;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And she's rather stint o' caressing;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But she's shown us how honest lives we may live,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And she's sent us out wi' her blessing.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Chorus: And it's shouther to shouther, etc.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Her land's no rick; and her crops are slim;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And I winna say much for the weather;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But she's given us legs that can gaily clim'</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Up the slopes o' the blossoming heather.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Chorus: And it's shouther to shouther, etc.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And she's given us hearts that, whatever they say</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">(And I trow that we might be better)</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">There's one sair fault they never will hae—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Our mither, we'll never forget her!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Chorus: And it's shouther to shouther, my bonnie lads,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And let every Scot be a brither;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And we'll work as we can, and we'll win if we can,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For the sake of our auld Scotch mither!</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>had attained a great success at the Harmony Club; -but that was merely because Mr. Jaap had managed to -write for it an effective air, that could be easily caught -up and sung in chorus; in itself there was no simple, -natural 'lilt' whatever. And then, again, in his epistolary -rhymes to friends and acquaintances (alas! that was all -over now) there were many obvious qualities, but certainly -not the lyrical one. Here, for example, are some verses -he had sent in former days to a certain Johnnie Pringle, -living at Tongue, who had had his eye on a young lass -down Loch Loyal way:</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">O Johnnie, leave the lass alane;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Her mother has but that one wean;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">For a' the others have been ta'en,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">As weel ye ken, Johnnie.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'Tis true her bonnie e'en would rive</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The heart o' any man alive;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And in the husry[#] she would thrive—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">I grant ye that, Johnnie.</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] 'Husry,' housewifery.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">But wad ye tak' awa the lass,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">I tell ye what would come to pass,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The mother soon would hae the grass</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Boon her auld head, Johnnie.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">They've got some gear, and bit o' land</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">That well would bear another hand;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Come down frae Tongue, and take your stand</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">By Loyal's side, Johnnie!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ye'd herd a bit, and work the farm,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And keep the widow-wife frae harm:</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And wha would keep ye snug and warm</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">In winter-time, Johnnie?—</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The lass hersel'—that I'll be sworn!</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And bonnier creature ne'er was born:</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Come down the strath the morrow's morn,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Your best foot first, Johnnie!</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Well, there may be wise and friendly counsel in verses -such as these; but they do not lend themselves readily to -the musician who would adapt them for concert purposes. -No; all such lyrical faculty as he possessed had been given -in one direction. And yet not for one moment was he -tempted to show Mr. Jaap any of those little love-lyrics -that he had written about Meenie—those careless verses -that seemed to sing themselves, as it were, and that were -all about summer mornings, and red and white roses, and -the carolling of birds, and the whispering of Clebrig's -streams. Meenie's praises to be sung at the Harmony -Club!—he could as soon have imagined herself singing -there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One wet and miserable afternoon old Peter Jaap was -passing through St. Enoch Square when, much to his -satisfaction, he ran against the big skipper, who had just -come out of the railway station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Hallo, Captain,' said the little old man, 'back already?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Just up frae Greenock; and precious glad to be ashore -again, I can tell ye,' said Captain M'Taggart. 'That </span><em class="italics">Mary -Jane</em><span> 'll be my grave, mark my words; I never get as far -south as the Mull o' Galloway without wondering whether -I'll ever see Ailsa Craig or the Tail o' the Bank again. -Well, here I am this time; and I was gaun doon to hae a -glass on the strength o't—to the widow's——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We'll gang in some other place,' Mr. Jaap said. 'I -want to hae a word wi' ye about that young fellow Strang.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They easily discovered another howf; and soon they -were left by themselves in a little compartment, two big -tumblers of ale before them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay, and what's the matter wi' him?' said the skipper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I dinna rightly ken,' the little old musician said, 'but -something is. Ye see, I'm feared the lad has no' muckle -siller——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's a common complaint, Peter!' the skipper said, -with a laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay; but ye see, the maist o' us hae some way o' leevin. -That's no the case wi' Ronald. He came to Glasgow, as I -understand it, wi' a sma' bit nest-egg; and he's been leevin -on that ever since—every penny coming out o' his capital, -and never a penny being added. That's enough to make -a young fellow anxious.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But there's mair than that. He's a proud kind o' -chiel. It's just wonderfu' the way that Mrs. Menzies -humours him, and pretends this and that so he'll no be at -any expense; and when they gang out driving she takes -things wi' her—and a lot o' that kind o' way o' working; -but a' the same there's sma' expenses that canna be avoided, -and deil a bit—she says—will he let her pay. And the -sma' things maun be great things to him, if he's eating into -his nest-egg in that way.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's easy getting out o' that difficulty,' said the big -skipper, who was of a less sympathetic nature than the old -musician. 'What for does he no stay at hame? He -doesna need to gang driving wi' her unless he likes.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'It's no easy getting away frae Mrs. Menzies,' the old -man said shrewdly, 'if she has a mind to take ye wi' -her. And she hersel' sees that he canna afford to spend -money even on little things; and yet she's feared to say -anything to him. Man, dinna ye mind when she wanted -him to take a room in the house?—what was that but that -she meant him to have his board free? But no—the -deevil has got some o' the Hielan pride in him; she was -just feared to say anything mair about it. And at the -club, too, it's no every one he'll drink wi' though there's -plenty ready to stand Sam, now that Ronald is kent as a -writer o' poetry. Not that but wi' ithers he's ower -free—ay, confound him, he's getting the reputation o' a -harum-scarum deil—if he takes a liking to a man, he'll gang off -wi' him and his neighbours for the time being, and goodness -knows when or where they'll stop. A bottle o' whisky -in their pocket, and off they'll make; I heard the other -week o' him and some o' them finding themselves at -daybreak in Helensburgh—naught would do the rascal the -night before but that he maun hae a sniff o' the saut -sea-air; and off they set, him and them, the lang night through, -until the daylight found them staring across to Roseneath -and Kempoch Point. He's no in the best o' hands, that's -the fact. If he would but marry the widow——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'What would Jimmy Laidlaw say to that?' the skipper -said, with a loud laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Jimmy Laidlaw? He hasna the ghost o' a chance so -long as this young fellow's about. Kate's just daft about -him; but he's no inclined that way, I can see—unless -hunger should tame him. Weel, M'Taggart, I dinna like -to see the lad being led away to the mischief. He's got -into ill hands. If it's the want o' a settled way o' leevin -that's worrying him, and driving him to gang wild and -reckless at times, something should be done. I'm an auld -man now; I've seen ower many young fellows like that -gang to auld Harry; and I like this lad—I'm no going to -stand by and look on without a word.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ay, and what would ye hiv me dae, Peter? Take -him as a hand on board the </span><em class="italics">Mary Jane</em><span>?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Na, na. The lad maun gang on wi' his surveying and -that kind o' thing—though he seems less and less to think -there'll be any solid outcome frae it. But what think ye o' -this? There's Mr. Jackson paying they professionals from -week to week; and here's a fellow wi' a finer natural voice -than any o' them—if it had but a little training. Well, -now, why shouldna Jackson pay the lad for his singing?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Not if he can get it for nothing, Peter!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'But he canna—that's just the thing, man,' retorted the -other. 'It's only when Ronald has had a glass and is in -the humour that he'll sing anything. Why shouldna he be -engaged like the others? It would be a stand-by. It -would take up none o' his time. And it might make -him a wee thing steadier if he kent he had to sing every -night.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Very well, then, ask Tom Jackson about it,' the big -skipper said. 'Ye may say it would please the members—I'll -back ye up wi' that. Confound him, I didna ken the -deevil had got his leg ower the trace.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man answered with a cautious smile:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Ye're rough and ready, M'Taggart; but that'll no do. -Ronald's a camstrairy chiel. There's Hielan blood in his -veins; and ye never ken when his pride is gaun to bleeze -oot and be up the lum wi'm in a fluff.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Beggars canna be choosers, my good freen——'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Beggars? They Hielan folk are never beggars; they'll -rob and plunder ye, and fling ye ower a hedge, and rifle -your pockets, but deil a bit o' them 'll beg. Na, na; we'll -have to contrive some roundabout way to see how he'll take -it. But I'll speak to Jackson; and we'll contrive -something, I doubtna. Sae finish up your beer, Captain; and -if ye're gaun doon to see Mrs. Menzies, I'll gang as far wi' -ye; I havena been there this nicht or twa.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now that was an amiable and benevolent, but, as it -turned out, most unfortunate design. That same night -Ronald did show up at the Harmony Club; and there was -a little more than usual of hilarity and good fellowship -over the return of the skipper from the perils of the -deep. Laidlaw was there too; and he also had been -acquainted with the way in which they meant to approach -Ronald, to see whether he could not be induced to sing -regularly at these musical meetings for a stipulated payment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their first difficulty was to get him to sing at all; and -for a long time he was good-humouredly obdurate, and they -let him alone. But later on in the evening one of his own -songs was sung—'The fisher lads are bound for hame'—and -was received with immense applause, which naturally -pleased him; and then there was a good deal of talking -and laughing and conviviality; in the midst of which the -skipper called to him—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Now, Ronald, lad, tune up; I havena heard a song -frae ye this three weeks and mair; man, if I had a voice -like yours wouldna I give them—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">'"The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry;</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">The ship rides by the Berwick Law,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">And I maun leave my bonnie mary!"'</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And indeed he did, in this loud and general hum, sing -these lines, in tones resembling the sharpening of a rusty -saw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'Very well, then,' Ronald said. 'But I'll sing it where -I am—once there's quietness. I'm not going up on that -platform.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course, the chairman was glad enough to make the -announcement, for Ronald's singing was highly appreciated -by the members; moreover there was a little experiment to -be tried. So peace was restored; the accompanist struck -a few notes; and Ronald, with a little indecision at first, -but afterwards with a clear-ringing courage, sang that gayest -of all parting songs. In the hubbub of applause that -followed none but the conspirators saw what now took -place. The chairman called a waiter, and spoke a few -words to him in an undertone; the waiter went over to -the table where Ronald was sitting and handed him a -small package; and then Ronald, naturally thinking that -this was merely a written message or something of the kind, -opened the folded piece of white paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a message, it is true,—'with T. Jackson's -compliments,'—and there was also a sovereign and a -shilling. For an instant Ronald regarded this thing with -a kind of bewilderment; and then his eyes blazed; the -money was dashed on to the ground; and, without a word -or a look to any one in the place, he had clapped on his hat -and stalked to the door, his mouth firm shut, his lips pale. -This glass door was a private door leading to an outer -passage formerly described; the handle seemed stiff or -awkward; so by main force he drove it before him, and -the door swinging back into the lobby, smashed its glass -panels against the wall. The 'breenge'—for there is no -other word—caused by this violent departure was tremendous; -and the three conspirators could only sit and look at -each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'The fat's in the fire now,' said the skipper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I wonder if the guinea 'll pay for the broken glass,' -said Jimmy Laidlaw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was the little old musician, whose scheme this -had been, who was most concerned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'We'll have to get hold o' the lad and pacify him,' said -he. 'The Hielan deevil! But if he doesna come back -here, he'll get among a worse lot than we are—we'll have -to get hold o' him, Captain, and bring him to his senses.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, in the end—after a day or two—Ronald was -pacified; and he did go back to the club, and resumed -his relations with the friends and acquaintances he had -formed there. And that was how it came about that -Meenie's married sister—who happened to know certain -members of the Rev. Andrew Strang's congregation, and -who was very curious to discover why it was that Meenie -betrayed such a singular interest in this mere gamekeeper, -and was repeatedly referring to him in her -correspondence—added this postscript to a letter which she was sending -to Inver-Mudal:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'I don't know whether it may interest you to hear that -Ronald Strang, Mr. Strang's brother, whom you have several -times asked about, is </span><em class="italics">drinking himself to death</em><span>, and that in -the lowest of low company.'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>END OF VOL. II.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>WHITE HEATHER (VOLUME II OF 3)</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43445"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43445</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>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. Special rules, set -forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to -protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge -for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not -charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is -very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as -creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. -They may be modified and printed and given away – you may do -practically </span><em class="italics">anything</em><span> with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution.</span></p> -<div class="level-3 section" id="the-full-project-gutenberg-license"> -<span id="project-gutenberg-license"></span><h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title"><span>The Full Project Gutenberg License</span></h3> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Please read this before you distribute or use this work.</em></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-1-general-terms-of-use-redistributing-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.A.</strong><span> By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by -the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.B.</strong><span> “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.C.</strong><span> The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is in the public domain in the United -States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a -right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free -access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works -in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project -Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with -the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format -with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it -without charge with others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.D.</strong><span> The copyright laws of the place where you are located also -govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most -countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the -United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms -of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.</strong><span> Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.1.</strong><span> The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.2.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work -can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without -paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing -access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with -or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements -of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of -the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in -paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.3.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.4.</strong><span> Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg™.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.5.</strong><span> Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute -this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.6.</strong><span> You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other -than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site -(</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a><span>), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.7.</strong><span> Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.8.</strong><span> You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided -that</span></p> -<ul class="open"> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from -the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you -already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to -the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to -donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 -days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally -required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments -should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, -“Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation.”</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies -you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he -does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ -License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all -copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue -all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ -works.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of -any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the -electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of -receipt of the work.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free -distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.</span></p> -</li> -</ul> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.9.</strong><span> If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -Michael Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact -the Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.</strong></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.1.</strong><span> Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend -considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe -and proofread public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg™ -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.2.</strong><span> LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the -“Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the -Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.3.</strong><span> LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.4.</strong><span> Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set -forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH -NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.5.</strong><span> Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.6.</strong><span> INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, -the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause.</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-2-information-about-the-mission-of-project-gutenberg"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a><span> .</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-3-information-about-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf</a><span> . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to -the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. -S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are -scattered throughout numerous locations. Its business office is -located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) -596-1887, email </span><a class="reference external" href="mailto:business@pglaf.org">business@pglaf.org</a><span>. Email contact links and up to date -contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For additional contact information:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Dr. Gregory B. Newby</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Chief Executive and Director</span></div> -<div class="line"><a class="reference external" href="mailto:gbnewby@pglaf.org">gbnewby@pglaf.org</a></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-4-information-about-donations-to-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing -the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely -distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of -equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to -$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status -with the IRS.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-5-general-information-about-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works.</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the -U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's -eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Corrected </span><em class="italics">editions</em><span> of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is -renamed. </span><em class="italics">Versions</em><span> based on separate sources are treated as new -eBooks receiving new filenames and etext numbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including -how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe -to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</body> -</html> |