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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43811 ***
+
+ Every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed. Some
+   typographical errors have been corrected; a list follows the text.
+   Archaic spellings (i.e. rebelious, rebelion, contemn, gallopping,
+ tryste, knawing, bideing...) have been preserved. (etext transcriber's
+                                 note)
+
+
+[Illustration: The Prodigal's Solemn Pledge in Mrs. Catherine's little
+room.
+
+See page 92]
+
+
+
+
+                               MERKLAND,
+
+                                  OR,
+
+                            SELF-SACRIFICE.
+
+                            BY THE AUTHOR OF
+
+                          "MARGARET MAITLAND."
+
+                             [Illustration]
+
+   "Lord, look upon mine offering--I bring thee back seven-fold. Lord
+        of Mercy! cast me not away for evermore!--See page 292.
+
+                       [Illustration: decoration]
+
+                     STRINGER & TOWNSEND, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+                               MERKLAND,
+
+                                  OR,
+
+                            SELF SACRIFICE.
+
+                                   BY
+
+                             THE AUTHOR OF
+
+         "PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF MRS. MARGARET MAITLAND," &C.
+
+                               NEW YORK:
+                          STRINGER & TOWNSEND.
+                                 1854.
+
+
+
+
+                               MERKLAND;
+
+                                  OR,
+
+                            SELF-SACRIFICE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+"But may not Mrs. Catherine's visitor belong to another family? The name
+is not uncommon."
+
+"You will permit me to correct you, Miss Ross. The name is by no means a
+common one; and there was some very distant connexion, I remember,
+between the Aytouns and Mrs. Catherine. I have little doubt that this
+girl is his daughter."
+
+"Mother! mother!" exclaimed the first speaker, a young lady, whose face,
+naturally grave and composed, bore tokens of unusual agitation. "It is
+impossible; Mrs. Catherine, considerate and kind as she always is, could
+never be so cruel."
+
+"I am quite at a loss for your meaning, Anne."
+
+"To bring her _here_--to our neighborhood," said Anne Ross, averting her
+eyes, and disregarding her step-mother's interruption, "where we must
+meet her continually, where our name, which must be odious to her, will
+be ringing in her ears every day. I cannot believe it. Mrs. Catherine
+could not do anything so barbarous."
+
+Mrs. Ross, of Merkland, threw down her work, and pushed back her chair
+from the table:
+
+"Upon my word, Anne Ross, you turn more absurd every day. What is the
+meaning of this?--_our_ name odious! I should not like Lewis to hear you
+say so."
+
+"But Lewis does not know this terrible story," said Anne.
+
+"And never shall," replied Mrs. Ross. "Neither can your brother's crime
+make my son's name odious to any one. I fancied you knew that Norman was
+called by your mother's name; and this Aytoun girl, if she knows
+anything of it at all, will have heard of him as Rutherford, and not as
+Ross."
+
+"But Mrs. Catherine--she at least cannot be ignorant, cannot have
+forgotten: who could forget this? and my mother was her friend!"
+
+"The friendship has descended, I think," said Mrs. Ross, with a sneer,
+"as you seem to imagine feuds should. I suppose you think this girl's
+brother, if she has one, would be quite doing his duty if he demanded
+satisfaction from Lewis, for a thing which happened when the poor boy
+was a mere infant? But be not afraid, most tender and scrupulous sister.
+People have better sense in _these_ days."
+
+Anne Ross turned away, grieved and silenced; her conversations with her
+step-mother too often terminated so: and there was a long pause. At last
+she said, timidly, as if desirous, and yet afraid of asking further:
+"And my father never knew how he died?"
+
+Mrs. Ross glanced hurriedly at the door: "He did not die."
+
+Anne started violently. "Norman, my brother? I beseech you to tell me,
+mother, is he not dead?"
+
+"Ah, there is Duncan back, from Portoran," said Mrs. Ross, rising.
+"Letters from Lewis, no doubt. How slow they are!" And she rang the bell
+vehemently.
+
+The summons brought in a maid, struggling with the buckle of Duncan's
+letter-bag, which was opened at length, and gave to Mrs. Ross's
+delighted eyes the expected letters from her only son: but Anne sat
+apart, shivering and trembling with a great dread--a secret, most sad
+and terrible; a tale of dishonor, and crime, and misery, such as might
+chill the very heart to hear.
+
+"And there's a letter from the Tower, Miss Anne," said the maid, giving
+her a note. "Duncan got it at the Brig, from Johnnie Halflin, and
+Johnnie was to wait, till Duncan got back with the answer, if there was
+to be any."
+
+"There is no answer, May," said Anne, glancing over the brief epistle;
+and May withdrew reluctantly, having obtained no news of Maister Lewis,
+or his wanderings, wherewith to satisfy her expectant audience in the
+kitchen.
+
+The letter of Lewis was a long one, and Anne had time to travel
+listlessly again and again over the angular and decided characters of
+her ancient friend.
+
+     "My friend," said the singularly-folded black letter-looking note,
+     "you will come to the Tower to-morrow. I am expecting Alison Aytoun
+     at night; and seeing the world has gotten two new generations (to
+     keep within the truth) since I myself was done with the company of
+     children, I am in need of your counsel how we are to brighten the
+     bed-chamber and other apartments, so as will become the presence of
+     youth. For undoubtedly in this matter, if I am like any mortal
+     person, it is like Issachar in the prophecy (not to be profane,)
+     for there is Elspat Henderson, my own woman, that would have out
+     the old red satin curtains (that are liker black than red now, as
+     you will mind,) to put upon the bed, and Euphan Morison, her
+     daughter, is for no curtains at all, for the sake of health, (pity
+     me, Anne, that have doctors among my serving-women!) and Jacky,
+     Euphan's daughter (bethanked that she has but one!) has been
+     gathering dahlias and sunflowers, and such other unwholesome and
+     unyouthful things, to put in the poor bairn Alison's room,
+     wherewith I have near brought a fever upon myself, first with the
+     evil odor of them, and then with flying upon the elf Jacky. So mind
+     you come to the Tower, like a good bairn, as you are, and have
+     always been, as early in the day as you can; and before twelve of
+     the clock, if possible, seeing that I have many things to say to
+     you.
+
+"CATHERINE DOUGLAS."
+
+
+
+For the third or fourth time, Anne's eyes had travelled down to that
+firm and clear signature, when an exclamation from her step-mother
+roused her. "Lewis will be home before his birthday! Lewis will be here
+on Friday! I believe you are more concerned about that girl coming to
+the Tower. Do you hear me, Anne? On Friday your brother will be home."
+
+There were only two days to prepare for his coming; and before Anne had
+finished her hasty perusal of the letter which Mrs. Ross permitted her
+to see, the house was full of joyful bustle and unwonted glee--for the
+frigid soul of its mistress melted under the influence of her son, as if
+his words had been very sunbeams. By nature she was neither amiable nor
+generous; but the mother's love, in its first out-gushing, almost made
+her both.
+
+And she had known the details of that dark mystery too long, and had too
+little liking for her husband's unhappy son, to sympathize at all with
+Anne's horror and agony. And so Mrs. Ross, of Merkland, bustled and
+rejoiced in her selfish gladness, while Anne, longing to ask, and yet
+afraid of rude repulse or angry reprimand, sat silently, with a heavy
+heart, beside her. At length, when they were about to separate for the
+night, Anne took courage.
+
+"Mother," she said, "I do not wish to disturb you, in so happy an
+occupation as this, but only one word--Norman, poor Norman, you said he
+did not die."
+
+"Upon my word, Anne, I think you might choose a better time for those
+disagreeable inquiries," said Mrs. Ross, impatiently.
+
+"He is my brother," said Anne, "and with such a dreadful history.
+Mother, is Norman alive?"
+
+"How can I tell?" cried Mrs. Ross. "You ought to desire most earnestly,
+Anne, both for his sake and your own, that he may be peacefully dead.
+Your father, I know, received a letter from him, secretly, after the
+ship was lost. He had escaped the wreck; but that is seventeen years
+ago."
+
+"And did he confess?" said Anne, eagerly.
+
+"Confess! Criminals do not generally do that. No, no, he professed his
+innocence. I may find you the letter sometime. There, will not that do?
+Go to your room now."
+
+"And will you not tell Lewis?" said Anne.
+
+"Tell Lewis!" exclaimed Mrs. Ross, "why should I grieve my boy? He is
+but his half-brother."
+
+Anne turned away without another word and went quietly up stairs--not to
+her own apartment first, but to a dusty attic lumber-room, seldom
+entered, except by herself. In one dark corner stood a picture, its face
+to the wall. Anne placed her candle on the floor, and kneeling down
+turned the portrait--a frank, bold, generous face, half boy, half man,
+with its unshadowed brow and clear eyes, that feared no evil.
+
+"Lewis is but my half-brother also," said Anne Ross, replacing the
+picture with a sigh; "but Norman was my mother's son."
+
+The house and small estate of Merkland were situated in one of the
+northern counties of Scotland, within some three or four miles of a
+little post-town which bore the dignified name of Portoran. The Oran
+water swept by the side of its small port, just before it joined its
+jocund dark-brown waters to the sea, and various coasting vessels
+carried its name and its traffic out (a little way) into the world. The
+parish in which Merkland stood, boasted at least its three Lairds'
+houses--there was Strathoran, the lordliest of all, with its wide acres
+extending over three or four adjacent parishes. There was the Tower,
+with its compact and richly-cultivated lands, the well-ordered property
+of Mrs. Catherine Douglas; and, lastly, there was Merkland--the home of
+a race of vigorous Rosses, renowned in former generations for its hosts
+of sons and daughters, and connected by the spreading of those strong
+and healthful off-shoots, with half of the families of like degree in
+Scotland. The children of the last Ross of Merkland had not been
+vigorous--one by one, in childhood, and in youth, they had dropped into
+the family grave, and when the infant Anne was born, her worn-out mother
+died, leaving besides the newborn child, only one son. His mother's
+brother long before had made this Norman, his heir. At the same time, in
+consideration of his independent inheritance, and his changed name, he
+had been excluded from the succession to his father's lands. So Mr. Ross
+of Merkland, in terror lest his estate should have no worthier
+proprietor than the sickly little girl whose birth had cost her mother's
+life, married hastily again. When Lewis and Anne were still only
+infants, Norman Rutherford left his father's house to take possession of
+his own--and then some terrible blight had fallen upon him, spoken of in
+fearful whispers at the time, but almost wholly forgotten now. A
+stranger in the district at the time our history begins would only have
+learned, after much inquiry, that Norman, escaping from his native
+country with the stain of blood upon his hands, proved a second Jonah to
+the ship in which he had embarked, and so was lost, and that grief for
+his crime had brought his father's grey hairs in sorrow to the grave.
+But the difference of name, and the entire silence maintained by his
+family concerning him, had puzzled country gossips, and restrained the
+voice of rumor, even at the time. Now his remembrance had almost
+entirely passed away, and in another week Lewis Ross, Esq., of Merkland,
+would be of age.
+
+But the whole dreadful tale in all the darkness of its misery had been
+poured into Anne's ears that day. She had known nothing of it before.
+Now, her stepmother thought, it was full time she should know,
+because--a reason that made Anne shrink and tremble--Mrs. Ross felt
+convinced that the girl who was so soon to be a visitor at the Tower,
+could be no other than the daughter of the murdered man.
+
+"The south room, May--he had it when he was a boy," said Mrs. Ross, as
+Anne entered their breakfast-room the next morning. "I wish there had
+been time to get some of the furniture renewed; but I dare say Lewis
+will like to see it as he left it. Do you not think so, Anne?"
+
+"He was always such a kindly heart," interposed May.
+
+Mrs. Ross looked dubious.
+
+"You must remember, May, that my son is no longer a boy. This day week
+he will take the management of his affairs into his own hands. He left
+us a youth, but he returns a man."
+
+"And I was just thinking that myself, ma'am," said May; "and Duncan says
+it behoves us to call the young Lord by his own name, Merkland,--and not
+Mr. Lewis; but I always think the old way's the kindliest."
+
+"Lewis will be changed, if he does not like the kindliest best," said
+Anne.
+
+"Ah, that may be," said Mrs. Ross; "but there is something due to--Well,
+where were we. Ay, the south room. I know you keep it in good order,
+May, but we must have it on Friday shining like--"
+
+"Like a new pin, ma'am," said May, as Mrs. Ross paused for a simile;
+"and so it shall, and you may trust that to me."
+
+"Yes, Lewis will be quite a man," said Mrs. Ross, leaning back in her
+chair with a smile. "I should think he would be a good deal browned,
+Anne--I have been thinking so all the morning."
+
+"Oh! and he'll have a lordly presence," said May, "like his father
+before him. The Rosses have always been grand men to look upon. They say
+the young Laird--"
+
+"Was not in the least degree like what my son will be," said Mrs. Ross,
+stiffly, while Anne grew pale. "You will see that my orders are strictly
+attended to, May, and let Duncan come to me whenever we have had
+breakfast. Take your place, Anne."
+
+Discomfited by her abrupt dismissal, May took her departure, muttering
+between her teeth:
+
+"One would think it was a crime to speak a good word of the old lady's
+bairns! Well, if one but knew what became of him at last, I would like
+to see the man in all Strathoran like the young Lord."
+
+"Anne," said Mrs. Ross, somewhat sternly, as May withdrew, leaving
+Anne's heart vibrating painfully with her indiscreet reference; "was it
+to-day that Mrs. Catherine expected her visitor?"
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"And to-day you are engaged to go to the Tower?"
+
+"Yes," said Anne. "But I can send Duncan with an apology, if you wish
+it. I did not know that Lewis was likely to arrive so soon when I
+received Mrs. Catherine's note."
+
+"Send Duncan! no, indeed!" said Mrs. Ross. "There would be little profit
+in wasting _his_ time to save yours. Duncan is the most useful person
+about Merkland."
+
+"And I the most useless," said Anne, sighing. "It grieves me deeply,
+mother, that it should be so."
+
+Mrs. Ross threw back her head slightly, expressing the peevish scorn
+which she did not speak, and Anne returned to her tea-making; and so
+they sat till their joyless meal was ended: each the sole companion and
+nearest connexion of the other, and yet so utterly separated in all that
+constitutes true fellowship.
+
+The clear light of the October sun was shining on the waters of Oran,
+and its tinted, overshadowing leaves, when Anne emerged from among the
+trees that surrounded Merkland, and took her solitary way to the Tower.
+Her heart was heavy within her, her step irregular, her brow clouded.
+The great secret of the family had fallen upon her spirit with all the
+stunning force of a first grief, and vainly she looked about her for
+comfort, finding none.
+
+How many times had May's admiring mention of the "young Laird" called
+forth upon her lips a sad smile of affectionate sorrow for the dead
+brother whom she never saw. How often had she marvelled at the old
+nurse's stern summary of his end: "He died a violent death!" How often
+lingered with sorrowful admiration over his picture in the attic
+lumber-room! And now his name had become a name of fear! The stain of
+blood was upon him! A Cain! a murderer!
+
+Not dead! Anne's hasty steps passed quick over the narrow pathway, with
+its carpeting of fallen leaves. In what pain--what misery, must that
+blighted life have passed! Whither might that guilty soul have
+wandered, seeking, in crowd or in solitude, to hide itself from its own
+fearful consciousness, and from its angry God! In privation, in danger,
+in want in sin, unfriended and accursed, and alone, with none to speak
+to him of mercy, of hope, of Divine forgiveness! And this was her
+brother! her mother's son!
+
+It was like some dreadful dream--but not like a dream could it be shaken
+off. How often in her childish imaginings, long ago, had she dreamed of
+the dead Norman living again, her friend and protector! Now how bitter
+and strong that unavailing wish, that God had indeed stricken him in his
+early youth, and laid him in the peaceful family grave unstained. Again
+and again those dark particulars rolled back upon her in bitter waves,
+swelling her grief and horror up to agony. And that the daughter of the
+slain man should come here--here, to have daily intercourse with the
+nearest kindred of her father's murderer! The idea was so terrible, that
+it produced a revulsion. She tried to believe that it was not so--that
+it could not be possible.
+
+Again and again she stopped, and would have turned back, and yet a
+strange fascination drew her on. There was a link of terrible connexion
+between herself and this girl, and Anne's spirit throbbed to bursting
+with undefined and confused purposes. She could not trust herself alone,
+therefore she put force upon her struggling heart, as she had learned to
+do long years ago, and passed on to the Tower.
+
+For the step-daughter of Mrs. Ross, of Merkland, had small reason to
+think of this many-sided world as a place of happiness. In a household
+which had barely means enough to support its station, and provide for
+the somewhat expensive wanderings of its heir, she was the one
+dependent, and Anne had ripened into some three-and-twenty years, and
+was no longer a girl. She felt how useless she was in the eyes of her
+clever step-mother; she felt the lethargic influence of having no aim,
+and deep down in that hidden heart of hers, which few others knew, or
+cared to know, sorrow and pain had been dwelling long, like Truth, in
+the well of their own solitary tears.
+
+She was now proceeding to the house of her most dear and especial
+friend: an ancient lady, whose strong will swayed, and whose warm heart
+embraced all who came within their influence, and whose healthful and
+vigorous spirit was softened in a manner most rare and beautiful by
+those delicate perceptions and sympathies which form so important an
+element in the constitution of genius. Mrs. Catherine Douglas had seen
+the snows of sixty winters. For more than thirty of these, her strong
+and kindly hand had held absolute dominion at the Tower, yet of the few
+admitted to her friendship and confidence, Anne Ross, the neglected
+step-daughter of Mrs. Ross, of Merkland, an ill-used child, a slighted
+woman, held the highest place.
+
+The Tower was a gray, old, stately place, defiant alike of storm and
+siege, with deep embrasures on its walls meant for no child's play, and
+a court-yard that had rung to martial music centuries ago, in the days
+of the unhappy Stuarts. Deep woods stretched round it, tinted with
+autumn's fantastic wealth of coloring. The Oran ran so close to the
+strong, heavy, battlemented wall, that in the old warlike days, it had
+been the castle-moat, but the drawbridge was gone, and there was
+peaceful access now, by a light bridge of oak. A boat lay on the stream,
+moored to an over-hanging rock, by which Mrs. Catherine herself was wont
+to make the brief passage of the Oran. It was a favorite toy of Anne's
+also, in her happier moods, but she was too heavy of heart to heed it
+now.
+
+"Mrs. Catherine is in the library, Miss Anne," said Mrs. Euphan Morison,
+the portly, active housekeeper, whose medical propensities so frequently
+annoyed her mistress; and threading the dark passages familiarly, Anne
+passed on alone.
+
+"Mrs. Catherine is in the library, Miss Anne," repeated a dark, thin,
+elfin-like girl, who sat on the sill of a deep window, reading, and
+hiding her book beneath the stocking which she ought to have been
+knitting, as she threw furtive glances to the door of the housekeeper's
+especial sanctum: "but there's gentlemen with her. It's a business day."
+
+"I suppose you may admit me, Jacky," said Anne. "Mrs. Catherine expects
+me."
+
+"Mr. Walter Foreman's in, Miss Anne," said Jacky.
+
+"And what then?" said Anne, smiling.
+
+"And Mr. Ferguson, the factor from Strathoran," said the girl, gravely,
+taking up, with a look of abstraction, some dropt loops in her neglected
+stocking.
+
+"Then I will go to the drawing-room," said Anne. "Tell me, Jacky, when
+Mrs. Catherine is disengaged."
+
+"And Miss Anne," said Jacky, starting, as Anne was about to pass on,
+"the young lady's coming."
+
+"So I have heard," said Anne.
+
+"And she's to get the mid-chamber," said Jacky, "and the chairs have
+come out of the big room in the west tower. You never saw them, Miss
+Anne. Will you come?" And Jacky jerked her thin, angular frame off her
+seat, and threw down book and stocking.
+
+"What have you been reading, Jacky?" said Anne.
+
+The sharp, dark face owned an involuntary flush, and the furtive eyes
+glanced back to the housekeeper's closed door. "It was only the Faery
+Queen."
+
+"The Faery Queen! Jacky, these are strange studies for you."
+
+"There's no harm in it," muttered the girl, angrily.
+
+"I did not say there was," said Anne; "and you need not transfix me with
+those sharp eyes of yours, because I wondered. But, Jacky, your mother
+would not be pleased with this."
+
+"It's not the chief end of woman to work stockings," murmured the girl.
+
+"No, surely," said Anne; "nor yet to read poems. Come, Jacky, let me see
+the mid-chamber."
+
+Jacky seized the book, deposited it in a dark niche below the window,
+and glided away before Anne up the broad stone stairs, to the room which
+the united skill of the household had been decking for a bower to little
+Alice Aytoun. The mid-chamber, as its name imports, occupied the front
+of the building, between the two round towers, that rose grimly with
+their dark turrets on either side. It was a room of good proportions,
+with two deep windows, looking out on the windings of the Oran, and
+commanding a view of the little town, seated on the point where the
+river poured itself into the sea. The country looked rich and gay in its
+russet coloring, and here and there you could see the harvest labourers
+in a half-reaped field--for the harvests were late beneath the northern
+sky of Strathoran. A little way below, the unpretending house of
+Merkland stood, peacefully among its trees; on the left hand, the plain
+church and substantial Manse basked in the sunbeams; and the broad sea,
+flashing beneath the light, belted its blue breadths around the
+landscape. Anne stood at the window, and looked out, as in a dream; dim,
+misty, spectral visions floating before her, in which were ever mingling
+her unhappy wandering brother, and the unconscious girl who should look
+forth on that same scene to-night.
+
+"It's not so much here," said Jacky, glancing round, and looking
+complacently on a great bunch of dahlias and hollyhocks, rudely inserted
+in an uncouth china vase. "The room's just as it always is, except the
+flowers--will you come in here, Miss Anne?"
+
+Anne followed, thinking little of the arrangements which she came to
+superintend. The room they entered was small and rounded, occupying as
+it did, a corner of the eastern tower. Its deep-set window was toward
+the sunrising--towards the hills, too, and the sea--and Anne paused upon
+the threshold, in wonder at the unwonted preparations made for this
+youthful visitor. In one end of the room stood a great wardrobe of
+richly-carved oak. There was an ancient piano, also, and little tables
+laden with well-chosen books, and the antique chairs looked richly sober
+in their renovation, heightening the air of olden romance which hung
+about this lady's bower. The blooming plants in the window were the only
+things new, and pertaining to the immediate present. Graceful and pure
+in its antique delicacy, the small apartment was a bower indeed.
+
+"But Mrs. Catherine," said Jacky, "would let me put no flowers
+here--only a big branch of barberries that I slipped in myself."
+
+The branch of barberries was, indeed, projecting fantastically from the
+rich frame of the mirror on the wall.
+
+"I think you may let Mrs. Catherine have the whole merit of this,
+Jacky," said Anne, taking it down; "and do you have a ramble through the
+garden, and find something more fragrant than those sunflowers. You will
+get some roses yet--run, Jacky. Mrs. Catherine--"
+
+"Is troubled with undutiful bairns," said the lady herself entering the
+room. "Wherefore did you not come to me, Anne, and me in urgent need of
+counsel? And wherefore did you not open the door, you elf, Jacky, unless
+you be indeed a changeling, as I have always thought you, and were
+feared for learned words? Come down with me this moment, Anne! You can
+fiddle about these trifling things when there is no serious matters in
+hand. I am saying, Come with me!"
+
+Mrs. Catherine Douglas was tall and stately, with a firm step, and a
+clear voice, strong constitutioned, and strong spirited. In appearance
+she embodied those complexional peculiarities which gave to the fabled
+founder of her house his far-famed name--black hair, streaked with
+silver, the characteristic pale complexion, and strongly-marked
+features, harmonising perfectly in the hue--she was dark-grey. It seemed
+her purpose, too, to increase the effect by her dress. At all times and
+seasons, Mrs. Catherine's rich, rustling, silken garments were grey, of
+that peculiar dark-grey which is formed by throwing across the sable
+warp a slender waft of white. In winter, a shawl of the finest texture,
+but of the simple black and white shepherd's check, completed her
+costume. In summer, its soft, fine folds hung over her chair. No
+rejoicing, and no sorrow, changed Mrs. Catherine's characteristic dress.
+The lustrous silken garment, the fine woollen shawl, the cap of old and
+costly lace remained unchanged for years.
+
+"It is a new vocation for me, child," said Mrs. Catherine, as Anne
+followed her down stairs, "to set myself to the adorning of rooms; but
+when my serving-women must have their divers notions concerning them, I
+should put to my own hand, unless I had wanted the stranger to be
+terrified with the aspect of my house--which I do not, for--Look back,
+child, is that elf Jacky behind you with her sharp eyes. But I have
+matters more important on my hand to-day."
+
+They reached the library door as Mrs. Catherine spoke, and she entered,
+while Anne lingered behind. Another voice, the brisk one of Walter
+Foreman, the young Portoran writer, began to speak immediately, but was
+summarily interrupted by Mrs. Catherine's clear tones:
+
+"I tell you you're a fool, Walter Foreman, as was your father before
+you--it's in the blood. You say he was a kinsman. Ay, doubtless, as if I
+did not known that. And was not James Aytoun as near of kin to him as
+me, and Ralph Falconer nearer. To think of any mortal, in his senses,
+passing over the promising lads, to leave siller to me! Me, that have an
+abundance for my own turns, and none to be heir to either my land or my
+name. Speak not to me. Walter Foreman, I say the man was crazy!"
+
+"But even if he were," said Mr. Walter Foreman, as Anne entered the
+library, "you would surely never think, Mrs. Catherine, of contesting
+the validity of a will made in your own favor."
+
+"And who said I would not, if it seemed right in my own eyes?" said Mrs.
+Catherine, indignantly. "Come here, Anne; you are not blinded with the
+sight of siller, as this youth is. Robert Falconer, the merchant (the
+third son of old Falcon's Craig,) is dead, and passing over his own near
+kin, that needed it (besides leaving the most part of his siller to
+hospitals, which may be was right, and may be not, I have not time to
+enter upon it,) the auld fool--that I should speak so of a man that is
+gone to his account--has left by his will a portion of siller, ten
+thousand pounds, no less, to me: me, that have no manner of use for it;
+that know not even what to do with it. I am thankful to you, Mr.
+Ferguson, you would learn me an easy way of putting it out of my hand;
+but I must consider, first, with your permission, whether I have any
+right to take it in."
+
+Mr. Ferguson, the Strathoran factor, smiled. "It is not often, Mrs.
+Catherine, that people receive legacies as you do."
+
+"No--neither, I am hoping, are there many left like this," said Mrs.
+Catherine; "but truly, gentlemen, that is no fault of yours, that I
+should fall upon you for it. Come back to me this day week, Mr.
+Ferguson; and you can come also, Walter Foreman, unless your father, who
+has more discretion, has the time to spare; and in that space, I will
+have taken counsel what I should do."
+
+Mr. Ferguson and the young lawyer took their leave; and Mrs. Catherine
+turned to Anne: "Heard you ever the like of it, child? To leave siller
+to me! You did not know the man; but Ralph Falconer, of Falcon's Craig,
+is his grand-nephew, and James Aytoun is also allied to him by the
+mother's side: and I, that am but his cousin, three times removed, and
+having my own share of this world's goods, and none to come after
+me--undoubtedly the man was crazy!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+The October sun rose brilliantly upon ancient Edinburgh, throwing the
+strong radiance of its russet gold upon the noble outline and antique
+grandeur of the historic city, and shone joyously into a family room,
+where a small household round their breakfast table were discussing the
+journey which that fair-haired, smiling girl, half-timorous,
+half-exultant, was to undertake that day. The white hair upon the
+mother's placid forehead was belied by the fresh cheek and dewy liquid
+eye, from which time had not taken the brightness. Her son was entering
+upon the strongest years of manhood, with sense and intelligence shining
+in his face. Her daughter was a girl, just emerging from the child's
+mirth and unrestrained gaiety, into those sensitive, imaginative years,
+which form the threshold of graver life--
+
+    "Standing with reluctant feet,
+     Where the brook and river meet,
+     Womanhood and childhood sweet."
+
+"But, mother," exclaimed Alice Aytoun, suddenly, "Miss Douglas will see
+at once that Bessie has not been my maid at home."
+
+"_Miss_ Douglas!" cried her mother. "Alice, did I not tell you that you
+were on no account to call her _Miss_. Remember always, Mrs. Catherine.
+And she knows very well that we are not able to keep a maid for you, and
+will understand that Bessie is for a companion on the way, and in some
+sense a protector. If you stay long, you can send her home."
+
+"And be alone in the strange place, mother," said Alice, the sunshine
+fading, for a moment, from her face.
+
+"How long will it be strange, Alice?" said her brother. "How many
+acquaintances will you make in a week?"
+
+The sunshine flushed back again.
+
+"And Mrs. Catherine--is she very eccentric, mother? I hope I shall like
+her."
+
+"I hope still more, Alice," said Mrs. Aytoun, smiling, "that she may
+like you. Mrs. Catherine has many friends who could serve James; and
+then, you know, she has no heir. So be as fascinating as possible."
+
+"Mother!" exclaimed James, "this worldly wisdom sounds strangely from
+your lips. We do not send Alice away to pay court to Mrs. Catherine
+Douglas for her estate's sake."
+
+"By no means," said Mrs. Aytoun. "I have heard Mrs. Catherine spoken of
+often as a most kind, loveable person, in her own peculiar way; and I
+accepted her invitation to Alice gladly, not because she has an estate
+unheired, but because--for various reasons, indeed--but the other, by
+the way. You are a landless laird yourself, James, and I am not quite so
+stoical as to despise a good inheritance."
+
+"Do you know any of Mrs. Catherine's neighbors, mother?" said Alice,
+whose attention, sadly distracted by anticipation, had altogether
+wandered during this discussion of motives. "The people I am likely to
+meet, do you know any of them?"
+
+"No," said Mrs. Aytoun, "I never was at the Tower; and my mother left
+the neighborhood young, and died so soon, too, that I have had very
+little connexion with her friends or native place. Indeed, it surprised
+me, that Mrs. Catherine should remember our relationship at all: but she
+is one of the most generous persons possible, I have heard often; and no
+doubt wishes to give you a glimpse, Alice, of the world you should enter
+on now." And Mrs. Aytoun gave a very quiet sigh.
+
+"Nonsense, mother!" said her son, energetically. "Alice stands in no
+need of generosity: and I should fancy a set of North Country lairds
+could be very little superior to the society we have here, landless
+though we be."
+
+"There are most gentlemanly and intellectual men in the North Country,
+James," said Mrs. Aytoun, quietly shifting her premises.
+
+"No doubt of it, mother; but not better than we have in Edinburgh."
+
+Mrs. Aytoun drew her hand over her daughter's fair curls, and made no
+answer; confessing to herself, that a North Country laird would be, in
+her eyes, a more suitable partner for her Alice, than any rising W.S.,
+or poor advocate of all James Aytoun's friends.
+
+Alice's trunks were standing, corded and ready. Little Bessie, the
+daughter of a woman who had been Mrs. Aytoun's nurse in better times,
+and who was her humble agent and assistant in all emergencies now, sat
+in the kitchen in all the glory of a new shawl and bonnet, a brevet
+ladies-maid; and it was nearly time to start. Mrs. Aytoun had yet to
+pack some small, forgotten tendernesses in a basket, with tremulous
+mother-anxiety, half-pleased, half-sorrowful, while James stood, watch
+in hand, warning her of the flight of those quick moments and of the
+possible starting of the coach before her cares were at an end.
+
+At last, they left the house, established Alice in the cosiest corner,
+set little Bessie by her side, gave the guard all manner of instructions
+to attend to their comfort, and waited till the vehicle should start.
+
+"Mind, Alice," whispered Mrs. Aytoun, anxiously; "always to call her
+Mrs. Catherine," and, in a moment more, Alice had lost sight of the
+compelled smile on her mother's pale face, and had started on her first
+journey from home.
+
+She was seventeen only, and her heart was bounding high within her. The
+October morning was so bright and invigorating, the beautiful world so
+new and so unknown. A transitory qualm passed over the unclouded,
+youthful spirit, as she thought it not right, perhaps, to rejoice at
+leaving home, but that passed speedily. A temporary anxiety as to the
+unknown Mrs. Catherine, whom she was hastening to see: but that
+disappeared also. The brilliant dreams that had been rising by day and
+night, since that momentous invitation came, floated together in
+indistinct brightness before her. The red October sunbeams, the bracing
+October breeze, the beautiful landscapes on that northern road--though
+these danced but indistinctly in her eyes, a part of the exhilaration of
+spirit, yet scarcely things rejoiced in for their own beauty--filled up
+her gladness to overflowing. The little heart at her side danced too, in
+its degree, as blithely, for after the young lady herself, in the great
+house to which they journeyed, was not the young lady's maid next in
+dignity.
+
+At one of the stages of the journey, a hypochondriac old gentleman, who
+had been the only other tenant of the coach, became faint, and declared
+himself unable to remain in the inside; whereupon, after some delay, an
+outside passenger was prevailed upon to exchange. A by no means
+unpleasant exchange, for the new comer was a young man of good looks,
+and frank, prepossessing manners, to whom the innocent, youthful face,
+with its blue eyes and fair curls might, or might not, have been an
+inducement to descend.
+
+The beauty of the road became more articulate after that, as the polite
+stranger, apparently well-acquainted with the way, took care to point
+out to his young fellow-traveller its various points of interest, and
+imperceptibly, Alice scarce knew how, they glided into confidential
+conversation. For Strathoran, the stranger said, was his home and
+birth-place, whither he was returning after a long absence, and Mrs.
+Catherine Douglas was one of his oldest friends--he had known her all
+his life. So the hours went on, quick and pleasantly, and the long miles
+gradually dwindled down. Her new friend talked, Alice thought, as few
+could talk, and interspersed his comments on their present road so
+gracefully, with anecdotes of other roads, world-famed and wonderful,
+which she had read of often, but which he had seen.
+
+He told her of her kinswoman, too, and of the Tower, and hinted how her
+own gentle presence would brighten the old walls and recall its youth
+again, till Alice, with all these magic influences about her, began to
+discover that this journey, instead of the weary means of reaching a
+wished-for destination, was in itself a young Elysium, unthought of,
+and delightful--the first homage rendered to the youthful woman, no
+longer a child: the first sign of her entrance into that fair world of
+more eventful life, whose air seemed now so golden with smiles and
+sunshine.
+
+The dim lights of Portoran began to blink at last through the mists of
+the October night, and by and bye, the coach stopped at the door of the
+principal inn, in the main street. Already Alice could perceive various
+individual loungers without, touching their hats as they caught a
+glimpse of her companion, and while she herself began to wonder how she
+was to travel the remaining five or six miles to the Tower, the head of
+a tall and gaunt, elderly woman, dressed in stiff old-fashioned
+garments, looked in at the coach window.
+
+"Is Miss Aytoun here?" said a harsh voice.
+
+Alice answered timidly to her name.
+
+"Quite safe; but very weary I am afraid," said the gentleman, "Mistress
+Elspat, you have forgotten me, I see. How are they all at the Tower?"
+
+"Bless me, Mr. Lewis, is't you?" said the stately Mrs. Elspat Henderson,
+own woman to Mrs. Catherine Douglas, of the Tower. "Who would have
+thought of meeting you here? They're a' well, Sir. I left Miss Anne
+there even now; but the carriage is waiting for the young lady. The
+carriage is waiting, Miss Aytoun."
+
+And, beginning to tremble, with a revulsion of all her simple
+apprehensions and timidity, Alice Aytoun was transferred to Mrs.
+Catherine's comfortable carriage, and leaving Lewis Ross at the inn
+door, looking after her, rolled away through the darkness to the Tower.
+
+It was not a pleasant change; to leave the cheerful voice and vivacious
+conversation of Lewis, for those formal questions as to her journey, and
+the terrified stillness of little Bessie, as she sat tremulously by Mrs.
+Elspat's side. Alice had scarcely ever seen before the dense darkness of
+starless nights in so wide and lonely a country, as she looked out
+through the carriage window, and saw, or fancied she saw the body of
+darkness floating round about her, the countless swimming atoms of gloom
+that filled the air, her bounding heart was chilled. The faint autumnal
+breeze, too, pouring its sweeping, sighing lengths, through those
+endless walls of trees; the excited throb of her pulse when in some
+gaunt congregation of firs, she fancied she could trace the quaint
+gables and high roof of some olden dwelling-place; the disappointment of
+hearing in answer to her timid question that the Tower was yet miles
+away! Alice sank back into her corner in silence, and closed her eyes,
+feeling now many fears and misgivings, and almost wishing herself at
+home.
+
+At last the voice of the Oran roused her; there was something homelike
+in its tinkling musical footsteps, and Alice looked up.--Dimly the massy
+Tower was rising before her, planting its strong breadth firmly upon its
+knoll, like some stout sentinel of old. The great door was flung wide
+open as they approached, and a flood of light, and warmth, and
+kindliness beaming out, dazzled and made denser the intervening gloom.
+Foremost on the broad threshold, stood a young lady, whose graver and
+elder womanhood, brought confidence to the throbbing girlish heart;
+behind stood the portly Mrs. Euphan Morison--the elfin Jacky, and
+furthest back of all, a tall figure, enveloped in the wide soft folds of
+the gray shawl, Mrs. Catherine's characteristic costume. Little Alice
+alighted, half stumbling in bashful awkwardness, the young lady on the
+threshold came forward, took her hand, and said some kindly words of
+welcome. Jacky curtsied; the tall figure advanced.
+
+"I have brought ye the young lady--Miss Aytoun, ma'am," said Mrs. Elspat
+Henderson, and Alice lifted her girlish face, shy and blushing, to the
+scrutiny of her ancient kinswoman. Mrs. Catherine drew the young
+stranger forward, took her hand, and looked at her earnestly.
+
+"A right bonnie countenance it is," she said at last, bending to kiss
+the white forehead of the tremulous Alice. "You are welcome to my house,
+Alison Aytoun. Anne, the bairn is doubtless cold and wearied. Do you
+guide her up the stair."
+
+Up the fine old staircase, into the inner drawing-room, which was Mrs.
+Catherine's especial sanctum, with its warm colors, and blazing fire,
+and shining tea equipage. Little Alice had to close her blue eyes
+perforce, dazzled as they were, that no one might see the happy dew that
+gathered in them. The contrast was so pleasant, and forthwith the
+bounding of that gay heart, and all its bright dreams and sunshiny
+anticipations came flushing back again.
+
+"And so you had a pleasant journey," said Mrs. Catherine, kindly, when
+after half an hour which Alice had spent arranging her dress, half in
+awe, and more than half in pleasure, in the beautiful apartment called
+her dressing-room, they were seated at table--Anne Ross presiding over
+the massy silver tea-pot, and hissing urn: "and were not feared to
+travel your lane? Jacky, you elf! what call had you to open that door,
+and let in a draft upon us? The bairn will get her death of cold."
+
+"If you please, Miss Anne," said Jacky, resolutely holding the door of
+the outer room open, as she kept her ground.
+
+"Come in, ye fairy, and shut the door," commanded Mrs. Catherine.
+
+The girl obeyed, casting long sharp glances from under her dark
+eye-brows at the wondering Alice.
+
+"If you please, Miss Anne, my grandmother says--"
+
+"What, Jacky?"
+
+Jacky had paused to ascertain who it was that the young stranger was
+like, and muttered a private memorandum of her discovery before she went
+on.
+
+"It's the little picture in the west room--my grandmother says, Miss
+Anne, that Mr. Lewis--but she bade me say, Merkland--"
+
+"What of him, Jacky?" said Anne, rising hastily.
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne, he came to Portoran in the coach with a young
+lady to-night."
+
+"Came to Portoran to-night!" repeated Anne, "then you must let me leave
+you immediately, Mrs. Catherine. I must hasten to tell my mother, if
+indeed Lewis is not at home already."
+
+"Away with you down the stairs, you elf," cried Mrs. Catherine, "and see
+if the horses are put up yet; and if they're not, let Simon be ready to
+drive Miss Ross to Merkland. Anne, doubtless you must go, but mind the
+bairn Alison is not used to such company as a staid auld wife like me,
+and be soon back again."
+
+"I will bring Lewis to see you to-morrow, Mrs. Catherine," said Anne, as
+she hastily bade Alice good night.
+
+"It must have been your brother who travelled with me, Miss Ross," said
+Alice. "He said he had been abroad, and knew Mrs. Catherine--and he was
+very kind. Will you thank him for me?"
+
+Anne Ross felt herself shrink and tremble from the touch of the small
+soft hand, the innocent frank look of the girlish face--the child of the
+slain man, whose blood was on Norman's hand.
+
+A strange contrast--the little throbbing happy heart, whose slight
+fears, and shy apprehensions, scarcely graver than a child's, had
+trembled and palpitated so short a time before, in the same vehicle
+which carried down to Merkland, so grave a burden of grief, so few
+hopes, so many sorrows, in Anne's maturer spirit--for before _her_ there
+lay no brilliant heritage of unknown good to come. One vision was in her
+very heart continually--a wandering, sorrowing, sinning man, buffeting
+the wind, striving through the tempest, enveloped with every physical
+attribute of misery, and carrying its essence in his soul. It is only
+those who have mourned and yearned for such, who can know how the sick
+heart, in its anxious agonies, conjures up storm, and blast, and
+desolation, to sweep around the beloved head, of whose sin and
+wanderings it knows, yet knows not where those wanderings are--the pain
+without, symbolizing and heightening the darker pain within, with one of
+those touches of tragic art, which grief does so strangely excel in.
+
+Lewis had not arrived when Anne reached Merkland, but he came shortly
+after; and the stir of joy incident on his arrival united the family
+more closely together than was usual for them. Mrs. Ross's cold bright
+eyes were wet with tears of joy that night, and her worldly spirit
+melted into kindliness; and the presence of Lewis gave his only sister a
+greater share in the household and its rejoicings. He stood between her
+step-mother and her, the nearest relation of each, linking them
+together. Lewis had been two years away. He had gone, a fairhaired
+youth, with a gay party from Strathoran, who, seizing the first
+opportunity of restored peace, set out to those sunny continental
+countries from which mere tourists had been excluded so long. He was a
+man now, bronzed and bearded, and with the independent manners of one
+who had been accustomed in all matters to guide and direct himself.
+There were various particulars of that same independence which jarred
+upon Anne's delicate feelings. A considerable remainder of boyish
+self-importance, and braggadocio--a slight loudness of tone, and
+flippancy of expression; but there was the excitement of his
+home-coming, to excuse these faults in some degree.
+
+"And the Duncombes, Lewis," asked Mrs. Ross, when the first burst of
+welcome was over, and they were seated by the fireside, discussing his
+journey--"where are they now?"
+
+"Oh, Duncombe's in Gibraltar," said Lewis, "with his regiment of course.
+Duncombe can't afford to choose his residence--he must have his full
+pay. A dull life they have of it, yonder."
+
+"And how does Isabel Sutherland like that, Lewis?" said Anne.
+
+"Isabel Sutherland? Mrs. Duncombe, do you mean? Why you don't think
+_she's_ one of the garrison! She's not such a fool, I can tell you!"
+
+"Where is she then, if she is not with her husband?" said Anne,
+wonderingly.
+
+"What an innocent you are, sister Anne!" said Lewis, laughing. "Why,
+she's one of the 'unattached,' as Gordon says. I left her in Paris with
+Archie. You have no idea what a moody, gloomy fellow Duncombe's grown. I
+should think he was enough to frighten anybody!"
+
+"He was always a bilious-looking man," said Mrs. Ross; "and yet Isabel
+ran away with him."
+
+"Ah! there's no accounting for the taste of young ladies," said Lewis,
+lightly. "I should think she would be more likely to run away _from_
+him, than _with_ him, now. But you should see their _menage_ in Paris!
+Archie's the man for all that."
+
+"How do you mean, Lewis?" said Anne.
+
+"You used to like him--eh, Annie?" said Lewis. "Don't break your
+heart--it's all up with that now. But, I can tell you, he makes the
+money fly finely."
+
+Anne's face flushed deeply--perhaps with the faintest shadow of pain at
+that intelligence, more than did merely belong to her regret for the
+folly of an old neighbor and early companion--but certainly with a
+painful feeling of the levity and carelessness of Lewis.
+
+"Well, Lewis," said Mrs. Ross; "I should think Archibald Sutherland
+could afford it pretty well. The old people must have saved a great
+deal, they lived so quietly. Strathoran is a good estate. Archie does
+not need to be so frugal as you."
+
+"Frugal!" echoed her son. "I wish you only saw. But, unless you did,
+with your quiet Scotch notions, you could have no idea of it. If Archie
+Sutherland is not poorer than we are, I'm mistaken."
+
+"Oh!" said Mrs. Ross; "that will be the reason they are thinning the
+woods. Then why don't they come home and economize?"
+
+"Come home!" cried Lewis. "Home to this dull Strathoran after Paris!
+It's not such an easy thing, I can tell you, mother. But, to be sure,
+one never knows the true reason. I've heard Archie often wishing for
+home--perhaps he is afraid of falling in love with Anne."
+
+"At all events, Lewis," said Anne, gravely, "whatever Archie Sutherland
+fears, you are not afraid of giving me pain."
+
+"Don't be absurd, Anne," said Mrs. Ross. "The poor boy's first night at
+home, to begin with these airs of yours!"
+
+Lewis saw the painful flush upon Anne's face--the look of deep
+humiliation with which she turned away her head, and his heart smote
+him.
+
+"I did not think you were so easily hurt. Nonsense, Anne! It was mere
+thoughtlessness, I assure you. I would not give you pain for anything."
+
+Alas! there were many things for which Lewis Ross would have been
+content to pain any one in the world. But Anne was easily mollified, and
+he ran on:
+
+"I met a little fairy of a girl in the coach, to-day. She was going to
+the Tower, to visit Mrs. Catherine. Hallo! what's the matter, Anne?"
+
+"Nothing," said Anne, forcing a smile on the lip which she had felt
+quiver a moment before.
+
+"How pale you were!" said Lewis. "I thought you were ill. I must go up
+to see Mrs. Catherine to-morrow. How does she wear, the old lady? She
+must be getting very ancient now. But that girl is a pretty little
+thing. Who can she be--do you know, Anne? I thought of her being a
+companion, or something of that kind; but there was a little maid with
+her."
+
+"A relative of Mrs. Catherine's," said Anne, faintly.
+
+"A relative--oh! What if she cuts you out!" said Lewis.--"I should have
+thought you sure of a good place in Mrs. Catherine's will, Anne. But
+there is no saying what a little fairy like that may do."
+
+Anne Ross felt the pang of dependence bitterly that night. Lewis was too
+like his mother to make it light to her; and portionless, with her plain
+face, and fastidious taste, what could she ever look for but dependence.
+Marriage, that necessity, often enough an unhappy one, to which so many
+young women in her position must look, as to a profession, for home and
+means, could never be a matter of mercenary convenience to Anne, and
+honorable earning of her own bread was an impossibility. And from her
+own sombre prospects she could turn for relief to so few of the things
+or people around. Lewis, so carelessly unfeeling and indifferent, so
+blunted in perception--Norman, whose very life was so great a dread to
+her, remaining before her mind's eye for ever--and even the sunny,
+youthful face at the Tower, which had lifted its blue eyes so trustfully
+to her own--why did its remembrance, and Lewis's light words of comment
+on its girlish comeliness, strike so deep a chill of fear into her
+heart? Ah! clouds deeply gathering, heavily brooding over this nook of
+still and peaceful country, what new combinations were your dark mists
+to form?
+
+Alice Aytoun by this time was snugly settled in the Tower, and had
+already written a little note, overflowing with innocent pride and
+joyousness to her mother at home, describing that most cheerful of all
+inner drawing-rooms, and dwelling fully upon the glories of her own
+apartments, the carved wardrobe, the old piano, the beautiful flowers;
+mentioning, too, in the postscript, in the very slightest manner, a
+"young gentleman," who had pointed out all the places to her on the way,
+and who turned out to be Miss Ross's brother, though who Miss Ross was,
+Alice did not stay to particularize. And after the letter was written,
+Mrs. Catherine, whose eyes had been lingering on the youthful face with
+most genial kindliness, began to play with her in talk, half childish,
+and wholly affectionate, as with some toy of unknown construction, whose
+capabilities she did not yet quite see. Jacky, too, with those quick,
+sidelong glances, as she went jerking in and out at every possible
+opportunity, had commenced her study of the young stranger's character,
+and quickened by admiration of the simple pretty face, was advancing in
+her study as quickly as her mistress. The minds of the stately old lady
+and the elfin girl came to conclusions strangely similar. There rose in
+them both an instinctive impulse of kindly protection, natural enough in
+Alice Aytoun's aged kinswoman, but contrasting oddly with the age and
+position of Jacky Morison.
+
+Anne and Lewis visited the Tower next day. In the Sutherlands, of whom
+Lewis brought tidings so unfavorable, Mrs. Catherine was deeply
+interested, and listened while he spoke of them, with many shakings of
+her head, and doubts and fears.
+
+"Trysted to evil," she exclaimed, as Lewis told her in his careless way,
+of Mrs. Duncombe's Paris life. "Did I not say nothing good could come of
+the bairn that left the sick bed of her mother, for the sake of a
+strange man; ay, and made the sick-bed--a death-bed by the deed. Lewis,
+is't the lad's fault, think you, or is't hers?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know that there is much fault in it," said Lewis. "It's not
+a formal separation, you know; only Isabel's living with her brother,
+because it is, beyond dispute, pleasanter to live in Paris than in
+Gibraltar. You don't know really--you can have no idea."
+
+"Think you so?" said Mrs. Catherine, quickly, "but maybe there are folk
+living who knew such places and things, before you were born! Why does
+Isabel Sutherland not return to the house of her fathers, if she cannot
+dwell with the man she left father and mother for?"
+
+"There is no accounting for these things," said Lewis, with a slight
+sneer.
+
+"Lewis Ross," said Mrs. Catherine, "hold your peace; you are but a boy,
+and should leave that to your elders. Anne, I am sore grieved for Archie
+Sutherland; if evil comes to the lad, it will be as hard to me, as if
+evil were coming upon you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+During the following week there were great preparations and much bustle
+in Merkland, for Lewis's birthday was to be celebrated with unwonted
+festivities, and all Mrs. Ross's energies were aroused to make an
+appearance worthy the occasion. All the Lairds' families round about had
+received invitations to the solemn dinner-party, at which Lewis Ross
+was, for the first time, to take his father's place. There was to be a
+dinner, too, in the Sutherland Arms, at Portoran, of the not very
+extensive tenantry of Merkland, at which the landlord and his underlings
+laughed in their sleeves, contrasting it secretly with the larger
+festivities which had hailed the majority of the youthful Sutherland of
+Strathoran, whose continued absence from his own home, gave occasion for
+so many surmisings. But yet, on a small scale, as they were, these same
+Merkland festivities were a matter of some moment in the quiet
+country-side. Alice Aytoun's gay heart leaped breathlessly at the
+thought of them, and many anxious cogitations had risen under her fair
+curls, touching that pretty gown of light silk, which was her only gala
+dress. Whether it was good enough to shine in that assemblage of rural
+aristocracy, and how it would look beside the beautiful robes which,
+Bessie reported, the Misses Coulter, of Harrows, had ordered from
+Edinburgh for the occasion. Alice had serious doubts--her only
+consolation under which was Bessie's genuine admiration; and thought
+within herself, with a sigh, that if she had to go to _many_ parties,
+the same dress would not do always, and her mother, at home, could not
+afford to order beautiful robes for her, as Mrs. Coulter could; however,
+that was still in the future, and but a dim prospective evil.
+
+Lewis Ross, in those busy days, had many errands to the Tower, and on
+his fine horse, looked, as Alice thought, the very impersonation of
+youthful strength, and courage, and gay spirits. And Merkland was a
+pretty house, with its deep bordering of woods, and its quiet
+home-landscape, of cultivated fields and scattered farm-houses. Alice
+almost thought she preferred its tamer beauty, to the wide expanse of
+hills and valleys, of wandering river, and broad sea, upon which she
+looked out, from the deepest window of her chamber in the eastern tower.
+
+All the parish was stirred to welcome Lewis, and other parishes
+surrounding Strathoran, added the pressure of their kindliness. He was
+in the greatest request everywhere. From gay Falcon's Craig to the sober
+Manse, from drowsy Smoothlie to the bustling homestead of Mr. Coulter,
+of Harrows, everybody delighted to honor the youthful heir of Merkland.
+Lewis did all that goodwill and good horsemanship could do, to renew his
+acquaintance with them all. He gallopped to Falcon's Craig, and spent a
+gay night with the bold Falconers. He met Ralph by appointment next day,
+to follow the hounds. He made a visit to Smoothlie, and curbed his horse
+into compulsory conformity to the sober paces of Mr. Ambler's
+respectable pony, as that easy, quiet old gentleman, who was conjoined
+with Mrs. Ross in the guardianship of her son, accompanied him to
+Merkland. And Lewis inspected the stock at Harrows, and dropped in at
+the Manse, to chat awhile with Mrs. Bairn's father; yet, with all these
+labors on his hand, did yet insist, in the excess of his brotherly
+solicitude, on accompanying his reluctant sister Anne to the Tower, the
+day before he became of age.
+
+Mrs. Catherine sat in her library, that day, in grave deliberation--with
+young Walter Foreman, and Mr. Ferguson, the Strathoran factor, again
+beside her. The table was strewed with papers, and the two gentlemen
+were pressing something to which she objected, upon the firm old lady.
+
+"The siller is mine," she said, "be it so. The man (I will say no ill
+of him, seeing he was a kinsman of my own, but that he was a fool, which
+is in no manner uncommon) is dead, and his will can have no more
+changes; frail folk as we are, that can never be counted on for our
+steadfastness, till we are in our graves! But allowing that the siller
+is my own--is it a lawful purpose, I ask of you, Mr. Ferguson, to build
+up with it, the foolish pleasures of a prodigal--alack, that I should
+call his mother's son so! while I may have other righteous errands to
+send it forth upon?"
+
+"It is to build up the old house of Strathoran. It is to save your
+friend's son," said the factor, with an appealing motion of his hand.
+
+Mrs. Catherine was moved, and did not answer for a moment.
+
+"The lad was left well in this world's goods," she said, at last. "A
+fairer course was never before mortal man. An honorable name, a good
+inheritance, the house of his fathers over his head, and a country-side
+looking up to him. What could he seek more, I ask you, Mr. Ferguson? And
+where is the lad? Revelling in yon land of playactors, and flunkies, and
+knicknackets: consorting with a herd of buzzing things, that were worms
+yesterday, and will be nothing in the morn. Speak not to me; I have seen
+suchlike with my own eyes. He must have his feasts, and his flatterers,
+forsooth! and the good land, that God gave him, eaten up for it.
+Bonnie-dyes, and paintings, and statues said he? And if it were even so
+(and the youth, Lewis Ross, says otherwise,) should he take the poor
+man's lamb for that, think ye?--the farmer's honest gains, that he toils
+for, with the care of his mind, and the sweat of his brow?"
+
+The lawyer and the factor exchanged glances.
+
+"I beg you to do us justice, Mrs. Catherine," said Mr. Ferguson,
+deprecatingly: "that was done in no case but in Mr. Ewing's; and the
+land is really worth considerably more now than when he got his former
+lease."
+
+"And whose praise is that?" said Mrs. Catherine, sharply. "Not the
+laird's, who never put a finger to the land. Do you not know well
+yourself, Robert Ferguson, that Andrew Ewing's lease had but four years
+to run, when by the good hand of Providence, giving him a discreet wife,
+with siller, he was set on improving the land? Has he not spent his
+profits twice told upon it? And, before he has time to reap a just
+harvest, the prodigal must come in, to take a tithe off the gains of the
+honest man. I take ye to witness, that the welfare of the lad, Archie
+Sutherland, Isabel Balfour's son, lies near my own heart, but I cannot
+shut my eyes to this evil."
+
+"It was done in no other case," repeated Mr. Ferguson.
+
+"Was there any other lease out," retorted Mrs. Catherine, "that the
+hunger of siller could have its aliment on? You are a discreet man, Mr.
+Ferguson, and you, Walter Foreman, with your business-breeding, should
+have some notion of the value of siller. Is it not a deep sea that ye
+are asking me to throw this portion into? A hungry mouth that, the more
+ye fill it, will but gape and gaunt the more? So far as the siller is
+mine, have I not gotten it to use it well, as my light goes?--to succour
+the widow and fatherless, maybe--not to pamper the unnatural wants of a
+waster and a prodigal?"
+
+"Mrs. Catherine," said the factor, "hear me speak before you make this
+decision. I do not, by any means, defend Strathoran. I have taken it
+upon me, indeed, both to warn and to entreat him to give up this
+ruinous--I will not say criminal course, he is embarked on: and I have
+received from him, in return, letters that would melt your heart. Why he
+persists in what he acknowledges to be wrong, I cannot tell; and I do
+not defend him. He has got into the vortex, I suppose, and cannot
+extricate himself. But his father built up my fortunes, Mrs. Catherine,
+and so long as anything can be done, I will not forsake his son. This
+seasonable relief may save him: without this, his affairs are hopelessly
+entangled, and Strathoran must cease to be the home of the Sutherlands."
+
+Mrs. Catherine leaned her head upon her hand, and did not speak. At
+length, looking up, she saw, through the opposite window, Anne Ross and
+Lewis coming up the waterside, to the Tower.
+
+"You will leave me a time, for further thought," she said, slowly. "Put
+the papers out of yon keen gallant's sight, or go into another room. You
+will hear tidings of your prodigal from Lewis, Mr. Ferguson; and
+doubtless you know him well enough, Walter, being birds of a feather.
+Euphan Morison, send lunch for the gentlemen into the dining-parlor, and
+tell Miss Ross I am waiting for her, in the little room."
+
+So speaking, Mrs. Catherine rose and left the library, her face shadowed
+with deeper gravity than was its wont--her step slow and heavy, and
+proceeded through many winding passages, to a locked door, in the
+furthest angle of the western wing. She opened it with a key which hung
+from her neck, and entered a small apartment furnished with the most
+meagre simplicity. It contained but two chairs and a small table, and
+from the deep diamond-paned window, you could only see the steep side of
+a hill, rough with whins and crags, which sprang sheer upward from the
+back of the Tower. Upon the wall hung a fine portrait--a noble,
+thoughtful, manly face, resembling Mrs. Catherine's except in so far as
+its flush of strong manhood was different from the aspect of her
+declining years. It was her brother, whose untimely death had cast its
+heavy shadow over her own womanly maturity; and the room was Mrs.
+Catherine's especial retirement, whither she was wont to come in her
+seasons of most solemn and secret prayerfulness, or at some crisis when
+her deliberations were grave enough to require the entire attention of
+her whole earnest mind. Upon the table lay a large Bible--other
+furniture or adornments there were none. In elder days, when the
+Douglases of the Tower professed the faith of Rome, it might have been
+called the lady's oratory; in these plainer times it was only "the
+little room;" yet was surrounded with the awe, which must always environ
+the strugglings of a strong spirit, however faintly known to the weaker
+multitude around. Mrs. Catherine paced up and down its narrow limits,
+moved in her spirit, and expressing often her strong emotion aloud.
+
+"Isabel Balfour," she murmured to herself, stopping as she passed, to
+turn upon the picture a look of deep and sorrowful affection. "Ay,
+Sholto, it is her bairn, her firstborn, the son of her right hand. If ye
+were here, Sholto Douglas, where you should have been, but for God's
+pleasure, what would you spare for Isabel's son, that should have been
+yours also, and a Douglas? I envied you your bride and your bairns,
+Strathoran, for _his_ sake that I left lying in foreign earth, and now
+your home is left to you desolate--woe's me! woe's me!"
+
+Mrs. Catherine turned away and paced the room again, with quick and
+uneasy steps: "Unrighteous? I know it is unrighteous; but if he had been
+Sholto's son, what would I not have done for him, short of sin? and he
+_is_ Isabel's--"
+
+A footstep approached, through the passage, as she spoke, and
+controlling herself instantly, Mrs. Catherine opened the door to admit
+Anne Ross.
+
+"What is the matter?" exclaimed Anne, as she entered. "What has
+happened, Mrs. Catherine, that you are here?"
+
+"Nothing, but that I am in a sore strait, and am needing counsel," said
+Mrs. Catherine, closing the door; "sit down upon that seat, child, that
+I may speak to you."
+
+Anne silently took the chair, and Mrs. Catherine seated herself at the
+other side of the small table, with her dead brother's picture looking
+down upon her from the wall.
+
+"Anne," she said, gravely, "you have heard the history of Sholto
+Douglas, and I need not begin and tell it here again. Look upon him
+there, in the picture, and see what manner of man he was. And you have
+heard of Isabel Balfour, the trysted bride of the dead, and how, when he
+had been in his grave but two twelvemonths, she was wedded to
+Strathoran. I blamed her not, Anne, though I myself was truer to the
+memory of my one brother; but wherefore am I speaking thus? There are
+two lads, Anne, to whom I may do service. One is, as I have heard, an
+honorable and upright young man, born to better fortune than he has
+inherited, and toiling manfully, as becomes the son of a good house;
+besides that, there is a kindred of blood between us. And the other is a
+rioter, wasting his substance, and dishonoring his name in a strange
+country. I am in a strait between, the two, which will I help, and which
+will I pass by?"
+
+"Mrs. Catherine," said Anne, anxiously, "what can I say? I fear that I
+can see whom you mean; but how can I advise?"
+
+"The well-doing lad is James Aytoun, the brother of the bairn Alice,"
+said Mrs. Catherine, "who is working an honorable and just work to win
+back the inheritance of his fathers. The rioter is Isabel Balfour's one
+son--that might have been your first-born, Sholto Douglas! and I am in a
+sore struggle between my reason and my liking. The boy has gotten in to
+my inmost heart, as if he had been truly Sholto's son, and I cannot see
+him fall."
+
+There was a long silence--for many motives deterred Anne from
+attempting, what at any time she would have done with reluctance, to
+offer counsel to the clear and mature judgment of Mrs. Catherine; and
+she rightly judged that her ancient friend had all the strength of
+secretly-formed resolution to combat the scruples which Anne could not
+help sympathizing with, though in her also, so many kindly feelings
+pleaded for Archibald Sutherland--a prodigal, indeed, but still the
+frank and joyous comrade of her childish days, the "young Strathoran" of
+her native district.
+
+At last, Mrs. Catherine rose.
+
+"It must be done," she exclaimed. "Bear me witness, Anne, that I do it
+against my judgment. I take the siller to feed the false wants of the
+waster, that should help the honorable man in his travail. I do it,
+knowing it is ill, but I cannot see the lad a ruined man. Let us away. I
+will blind myself with no more false reasonings; the thing is wrong, but
+we must do it--come!"
+
+Anne followed without speaking. Mrs. Catherine locked the door, and,
+leaning on her heavily, led her up stairs. Alice Aytoun was in the
+drawing-room; Mrs. Catherine sent Anne thither, and went herself to seek
+for something in her own room. She had intended offering substantial
+help to James Aytoun, and now, when the warmth of her feelings for
+Archibald Sutherland baulked her benevolent intent, she turned with an
+involuntary impulse to make some atonement to Alice.
+
+It had been a very dull morning for Alice--Mrs. Catherine was unusually
+grave at breakfast, and since breakfast Alice had been alone--then she
+saw Lewis and Anne walking arm-in-arm up Oranside to the Tower, and for
+a long half-hour had waited and wondered in tantalising loneliness,
+vainly expecting that they would join her, or she be summoned to them.
+But they did not come, and Alice, wearied and disappointed, was venting
+some girlish impatience on the piano, and indulging in a sort of
+fretful wish for home--quiet, affectionate home, where such slight
+neglects and forgetfulness never could take place--but, while the
+thought was being formed, Anne stood beside her.
+
+"Oh! Miss Ross," exclaimed Alice, "I thought you were never coming," and
+through the fair curls the slightest side-glance was thrown to the
+closed door, which testified that Anne now came alone. "I saw you coming
+up by the water, and I have waited so long."
+
+"Mrs. Catherine had some business with me," said Anne: "and Lewis, I
+think, is detained below with other visitors. And what do you think of
+our Strathoran now, Miss Aytoun?"
+
+"Oh! a great deal," said Alice; "only I have not seen Strathoran
+itself--Mr. Sutherland's house--yet. I am to go to Falcon's Craig, Mrs.
+Catherine says, after to-morrow. Miss Falconer was here
+yesterday--riding."
+
+"And you liked her, did you not?" said Anne, smiling.
+
+Alice looked dubious.
+
+"Yes, very well. But is she not more like a gentleman than a lady, Miss
+Ross?"
+
+"Tell her so yourself to-morrow," said Anne, "and she will think you pay
+her a high compliment."
+
+Alice shook her head.
+
+"I should not mean it for that, Miss Ross; but Mrs. Catherine said you
+would perhaps go with me to Falcon's Craig. Will you? I should be half
+afraid if I went alone."
+
+"Feared for Marjory Falconer!" said Mrs. Catherine, entering the room.
+"If once she knew her own spirit, it is not an ill one; and I see not
+wherefore she should scare folk. I know well _you_ are not feared, Anne.
+See, bairns, here are some bonnie dyes to look at, while I am away. Ye
+are to wear them the morn's night, Alison Aytoun, according to your
+pleasure. They belong to yourself. And see you go not away, Anne, till I
+come back again. I will send Lewis up to hold you in mirth. For myself,
+I have things to make me up, other than mirthful."
+
+Alice advanced timidly to the table as Mrs. Catherine left the room.
+What might be within that mysterious enclosure of morocco? Anne
+smilingly anticipated her. Rich ornaments of pearls, more beautiful than
+any thing the simple, girlish eyes had ever looked upon before. Alice
+did not know how to look, or what to say; only her heart made one great
+leap of delight--all these were her own! How pleased and proud, not for
+the gift alone, but for the kindness that gave it, would be the mother's
+heart at home!
+
+Mrs. Catherine descended slowly, and, resuming her seat in the library,
+called the young lawyer and the factor to her presence, and dismissed
+Lewis to the pleasanter company up stairs. Mr. Ferguson, one of those
+acute, sagacious, well-informed men, who are to be met with so
+frequently in the middle class of rural Scotland, came with looks of
+anxious expectation, and Walter Foreman, of whom his independent client
+did not deign to ask counsel, took his place again, with secret pique,
+fancying himself at least as good an adviser as the plain and quiet
+stepdaughter of Mrs. Ross, of Merkland.
+
+"Mr. Ferguson," said Mrs. Catherine, "I have made up my mind. You shall
+have the siller. Thank me not. I do that which I know is wrong, and
+which I would have done for no mortal but Isabel Balfour's son. You can
+get the papers made out at your convenience, and tell me the name of his
+dwelling. I will write to the ill-doer myself."
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Ferguson, eagerly, "I beg you will not give yourself
+so much trouble, Mrs. Catherine. I will myself write to Strathoran
+immediately, and tell him of your kindness."
+
+"Doubtless," said Mrs. Catherine: "but wherefore should I not have my
+word of exhortation, as well as another? Write me down Archie
+Sutherland's address. I could get it from Lewis Ross, but I do not
+choose that; and let the siller be paid to Mr. Ferguson, Walter
+Foreman--that is, when the papers are ready--for mind that I do not
+_give_ this siller, I only lend it."
+
+"On the lands of Lochend and Loelyin," said Mr. Ferguson. "Of course,
+Mrs. Catherine."
+
+A slight smile of triumph hovered about the factor's mouth.--Mrs.
+Catherine perceived it.
+
+"On which I will have the annual rent paid to a day," she said, with
+some sternness, "as if I were the coldest stranger that ever heard of
+Archie Sutherland's needs or ill-doings, and, I trow, that is a wide
+word. If I had not purposed so, I might have given him the siller, for
+what is it to a woman of years like me? Truly, my own spirit bears me
+witness, that I would give that threefold, if it were mine to give, with
+a light heart, to restore the prodigal to the house of his fathers, as
+innocent as he went away. Let the business be done, Walter Foreman;
+doubtless, you will be taken up with the ploy to-morrow, and will be
+putting it off till after that."
+
+"We can get it done immediately," said Walter, somewhat sullenly.
+
+"What ails you, sir?" said Mrs. Catherine. "Should I have taken counsel
+with you on the secrets of my own spirit, think you?--I that am given to
+take counsel of no man. Be content, Walter Foreman--you are not an ill
+gallant, but have overmuch favor for your own wisdom, as is common at
+your years. If you live to count threescore, you will be an humbler
+man."
+
+"Our success is a most fortunate thing for Strathoran," said Mr.
+Ferguson, as they left the Tower. "But the letter--I would not receive
+such a letter as Mrs. Catherine will write, on such a subject, for the
+half of his estate."
+
+Walter Foreman shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"And yet she has the greatest regard for him. Mrs. Sutherland was
+betrothed to Mrs. Catherine's brother, when he died, people say; and it
+is her strange adoration of his memory that makes her so fond of young
+Strathoran. A singular consequent, one would think."
+
+"Mrs. Catherine is altogether singular," said Mr. Ferguson, "and not to
+be judged as people of the world are."
+
+And when the night was far spent, and Alice had carried her bounding
+heart, and her new possessions, into her own bright apartment, and was
+electrifying little Bessie there, with a glimpse of the wonderous beauty
+of those pearls, and trying them on before the mirror on the walls, and
+listening with bursts of gay laughter to Bessie's guesses of their
+value--sums immense and fabulous to the simplicity of both, yet,
+nevertheless, in truth, not greatly exceeding their true worth--Mrs.
+Catherine sat in the library alone, writing her letter, her strong
+features swept by deep emotion often, and her steady hand shaken. The
+course which the young man was pursuing, was in every way the most
+repulsive to her feelings. Sin it appeared in the eyes of her strong,
+unswerving, pure religion--dishonor to her nice sense of uprightness and
+independence. His foreign residence and likings shocked her warm,
+home-affections, her entire nationality, and the possible alienation of
+his lands from the name and family in whose possession they had been so
+long, alarmed alike fear and prejudice; for Mrs. Catherine, boasting her
+own pure descent from the "dark-grey man," was no enemy to the law of
+entail. His sister, too, and her separation from the husband for whom
+she had left her mother's sick-bed--all these things poured in upon Mrs.
+Catherine's mind, increasing her agitation, and hallowed, as all her
+fears were, by that strange visionary tenderness, so thoroughly in
+unison with her strong character, despite its romance, which clung
+around those who might have been the children of that dearest brother
+Sholto, whose mortality, so much as remained of it, lay treasured in yon
+lone burying-ground in far Madeira, upon whose sunny shore he died.
+
+     "Archibald Sutherland," wrote Mrs. Catherine, "I have been hearing
+     tidings of you, which have carried a sword into my inmost heart;
+     and though I might well write in anger, seeing that though I am not
+     of your kin, you were in my arms a helpless bairn, before you were
+     in the arms of any mortal--it is in grief rather that I speak to
+     you. Wherefore is there neither firelight nor candlelight in the
+     house of Strathoran? Is the home of your fathers not good enough
+     for a son that puts in jeopardy their good fame? Is the roof that
+     sheltered Isabel Balfour in her bridal days, too mean for Isabel
+     Sutherland? or wherefore is it, that with your fair lands and good
+     possessions you are dwelling in a strange and ungodly country?
+     Father and mother you have none to warn you. Answer to me, Archie
+     Sutherland, who have known you all your days, wherefore it should
+     be so. Think you that among the flattering fools that are about
+     you, there is one that would lose a night's sleep, if Strathoran
+     and all belonging to it, were swept into the sea? Come back to your
+     own dwelling-place: witless and prodigal as you have been, there is
+     not a hind in the parish but would lament over the desolate house
+     of your fathers. Think you that it is a small thing, the leal
+     liking and respect of a whole countryside, come down to you as a
+     heritage? or is it your will to give up that for the antics of a
+     papistical and alien race? I say to you, come back to your own
+     house, Archie Sutherland. There is neither healthfulness nor
+     safety--let alone good fame and godliness, a man's best plenishing
+     for this world and the next--in the course you are running now.
+
+     "Think not that I write this because I have served you with siller.
+     Over the son of Isabel Balfour, the sister of Sholto Douglas has a
+     right of succor and counsel, warning and reproof. Boy! if you had
+     been my own--if in God's good pleasure you had borne the name of my
+     own brother--the dearest name upon this earth to me--what is there
+     that you might not have claimed at my hands? What is there now,
+     that would be for your own good, that I would hesitate to do?--but
+     far be it from me, who mind your mother's travail for the new birth
+     in you, the which in all mortal seeming has not yet been granted to
+     her prayers--to prop up your goings in a way of ill-doing. Of what
+     good is it to the world, I ask you, Archie Sutherland, that you
+     have been made upon it, a living man with a mind within you, and a
+     heaven over you? Who is the better for the light that God has put
+     into your earthen vessel? A crowd of dancing, singing fools, that
+     know not either the right honor, or the grave errand of a man into
+     this world. Shame upon you, the son of a stalwart and good house,
+     to be wasting in bairnly diversion, the days you will never see
+     again, till you meet them before the Throne. Listen to me, Archie
+     Sutherland--return to your own house, and to such a manner of life
+     as becomes an honorable and upright man, and I give you my
+     word--the worth of which, you may be known--that for disentangling
+     you from the unhealthful meshes of borrowed siller, the means shall
+     not be to seek.
+
+     "Unto your sister Isabel, I have ever been a prophet of evil;
+     nevertheless, she bears the name, and, in a measure, the
+     countenance, of Sholto's Isabel and mine. If she will not return to
+     the lawful shelter and rule of her own house, let her come to
+     Strathoran, or, if it likes her, to the Tower. Do you think, or
+     does she think, that the very winged things that are about you,
+     their own sillie selves, honor the wife for disregarding her
+     natural right? The bond was of her own tieing; she liked him better
+     than father and mother once--does she like him less now than she
+     likes ill-fame, and slight esteem? If it is so, let her come home
+     to me, her mother's earliest and oldest friend. Bairns!--bairns!
+     there is more to provide for than the pleasure of the quick hours
+     that are speeding over ye. Purity before God, honor in the sight of
+     men: are your spirits blinded within ye, that you cannot perceive
+     the two?
+
+CATHERINE DOUGLAS."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+The festive morning dawned at last, a vigorous, red October day, and all
+about and around Merkland was bustle and preparation.
+
+"Duncan," cried Bell the cook, her face looming, already red and full,
+through a mist; "when was that weary man, Bob Partan, to send up the
+turbot?"
+
+"Punctual at eleven," said the laconic Duncan.
+
+"Eh! man, Duncan," said May, "have ye tried on your new livery
+yet?--isn't it grand?"
+
+"Hout, you silly fool," responded Duncan, "has the like o' me leisure,
+think you, to be minding about coats and breeks?"
+
+"Eh!" exclaimed Bell, "what has possessed me! There's no clove in a' the
+house and they need to be in--I kenna how mony things. You maun off to
+Portoran, Duncan, gallopping; there's not a minute to be lost."
+
+"Duncan," cried Johnnie Halflin, the boy at the Tower, who, with sundry
+other articles, had been lent for the occasion, "I've casten doun a jar
+o' the Smoothlie honey, and it's broken twa o' the bottles. Man, come
+afore the leddy sees't."
+
+"Duncan," said Barbara Genty, Mrs. Ross's own especial attendant. "You
+are to go up to the parlor, this minute. You were sent for half an hour
+ago."
+
+"Conscience!" exclaimed the overwhelmed Duncan, "is there two of us,
+that ye are rugging and riving at a man in that gate? Get out o' my
+road, ye young sinner, or there shall be mair things broken than
+bottles! I'm coming, Bauby. Woman Bell, could ye no hae minded a'thing
+at once?"
+
+Above stairs, Mr. Lewis's servant, who had left Merkland a loutish lad,
+and returned glistening in Parisian polish and refinement, a superfine
+gentleman, was condescendingly advising with Mrs. Ross, as to the
+garniture of the dinner-table. Things were so arranged in the Hotel
+de ----, John said; for Monsieur Charles, Mr. Sutherland's major-domo,
+had a style of his own. But for the country, John fancied this would do
+very well. Mrs. Ross had dismissed Anne, an hour before, to her own
+room, as useless; and half-offended with the airs of her son's dignified
+servant, was yet not above hearing the style of the Hotel de ----, and in
+some degree making it her model, certain that Parisian fashion had not
+penetrated to any other house in the district, and well-pleased to take
+the lead. For the gay parties at Falcon's Craig, and the stately
+festivities at the Tower, had an individuality about them which had
+always been wanting in Merkland, and Mrs. Ross had resolved to outshine
+all to-day.
+
+Anne, meanwhile, sat up stairs, busied with her ordinary work. She was
+the seamstress of the family, and the post was not by any means a
+sinecure.
+
+The guests began to arrive, at last. Mr. Ambler, of Smoothlie, emerged
+from his dressing-room, neat as elderly, finical gentleman could be,
+with his carefully arranged dress, and wig, savoring of olden times. Mr.
+Ambler had been in India once, and alluded to the fact on all occasions;
+albeit, an indulged only son, with the snug enough of his lairdship to
+fall back upon, he had returned in the same vessel which took him out.
+But though Mr. Ambler was too fond of slippered ease to try his fortune
+under the burning sun of the East, his voyage supplied him with an
+inexhaustible fund of conversation, innocently self-complacent, in which
+India and its wonders had a place all incompatible with his brief
+experience of them.
+
+Dashing in, full gallop, came the Falconers--the gay, bold brother and
+sister, fatherless and motherless, and entirely unrestrained in any way,
+whose wild freaks afforded so much material for gossip to the
+countryside. Then in a methodical, business-like trot, came in the sleek
+horses and respectable vehicle of Mr. Coulter, of Harrows; the Manse
+gig; the stately carriage of Mrs. Catherine, and other conveyances,
+whose occupants we need not specify by name. The room was filled. Alice
+Aytoun had never in her life been at so great a party.
+
+She could distinguish on yonder sofa, in the corner, Mrs. Bairnsfather's
+black satin gown, side by side with the strong thrifty hued silk of Mrs.
+Coulter, of Harrows. The Misses Coulter, in their Edinburgh robes, were
+near their mamma. They were very well-looking, well-dressed girls; but
+Alice's own silk gown bore a comparison with theirs, and their ornaments
+were nothing like those delicate pearls. The discovery emboldened little
+Alice Aytoun, and took away her sole existing heaviness. She was fully
+prepared to enjoy herself.
+
+The stately dinner, and all its solemnities, were over at last. The real
+pleasure of the evening was commencing; the company forming into gay
+knots; and Lewis doing the honors, with so rare a grace, that his mother
+almost forgot her own duties in admiration of her son. Alice Aytoun
+admired him, too. The pretty little stranger had become a sort of centre
+already, with the gayest and most attractive of all those varied groups,
+about her--and Lewis let no opportunity pass of offering his homage.
+Even on Mrs. Catherine's strong features, as she sat near her charge,
+there hovered a mirthful smile. Mrs. Catherine herself was not
+displeased that the _debut_ of her little stranger should be so much a
+triumph.
+
+"A pretty girl--there is no doubt of that," said the good-humored Mrs.
+Coulter. "James, do you not think she is like our Ada? See, the heads of
+the two are together, and Jeanie is behind them, with young Walter
+Foreman. I declare that lad is constantly hovering about Jeanie. Ah,
+Mrs. Bairnsfather, we have many cares who have a family!"
+
+"No doubt," said the little, fat, round-about Mrs. Bairnsfather, the
+childless minister's wife, whose cares, diverted from the usual channel
+of children-loving, expended themselves upon the many comforts of
+herself, and her easy, comfortable husband. "You must be troubled in
+various ways now that the young people have got to man's estate, and
+woman's. But what were you calling Miss Adamina, Mrs. Coulter? I noticed
+a change in the name."
+
+Mrs. Coulter looked slightly confused.
+
+"You see, Mrs. Bairnsfather, it is a cumbrous name--four syllables--and
+we must have some contraction. When they were all bairns, they used to
+call her Edie, poor thing; but that would not do now; and at school she
+got Ada, and it really is a prettier name, and quite a good diminutive:
+so we just adopted it."
+
+"Dear me! is that it?" said Mrs. Bairnsfather. "When I got the last note
+from Harrows I saw it was 'A. M. Coulter.' And that's it!"
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Coulter. "Ada Mina--they are two very pretty names."
+
+Mrs. Bairnsfather coughed a short sarcastic cough of wonder, and Mrs.
+Coulter continued:
+
+"Oh! there is John beside little Miss Aytoun. Is he not like his father,
+Mrs. Bairnsfather? James, did you not say that Miss Aytoun was a
+relative of Mrs. Catherine's?"
+
+"Ay, my dear," said Mr. Coulter. "Mrs. Catherine told us so herself--you
+recollect? or was it to me she said it? So it was--when she was looking
+at yon new patent plough of John's."
+
+"I wonder," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, "who is likely to get the Tower? In
+the course of nature, it cannot be very long in Mrs. Catherine's hands,
+and it's a good estate."
+
+"Wonderfully improved in my time," said Mr. Coulter. "Mrs. Catherine is
+not without a notion of the science of agriculture, which, to the shame
+of landed proprietors, is generally so much neglected. The low lands at
+Oran Point were but moor and heather in my memory, but they grow as fine
+barley now as any in the country."
+
+"Well, I suppose no one can say that Mrs. Catherine neglects her carnal
+interests," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, with a professional sigh. Her
+husband was known among his shrewd parishioners to be greatly more
+observant of temporal than spiritual matters, and his wife, conscious of
+a failing in that respect, was wont to assume at times a technical
+solemnity.
+
+"I believe Mrs. Catherine is a very excellent woman in every respect,"
+said the good-humored and uncensorious Mrs. Coulter, "and cares as
+little about money, for money's sake, as any one can possibly do; but
+she thinks it a duty to use well and improve what Providence has given
+her, as you do yourself, James, though, to be sure, we have more motive,
+with a young family rising round us."
+
+"I was very much struck yesterday," said Mr. Coulter, "with the contrast
+between the Tower fields, and the adjoining lands within the bounds of
+Strathoran. There is a place where the three estates meet--Mrs.
+Catherine's, Mr. Sutherland's and mine. You recollect the little burn,
+my dear, which that silly maid of yours fell into last Hallow-e'en?
+well, it is there. Mrs. Catherine's stubble-fields stretch to the very
+burnside--mine are turnips--uncommonly fine Swedes; but, on the other
+side, spreading away as far as you can see, is the brown moor of
+Strathoran, miles of good land wastefully lost, besides breeding by the
+thousand these small cattle of game, to destroy our corn."
+
+"Ay," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, mysteriously, "I hear the Sutherlands are
+not in the best way."
+
+"Poor things! they are young to be out in the world alone," said Mrs.
+Coulter; "and Isabel was a wilful girl at all times. I gathered from
+what Lewis Ross said, that they were living very gaily; but perhaps you
+have heard more?"
+
+Mrs. Bairnsfather shook her head.
+
+"It is a melancholy thing to think of the downfall of an old family!"
+
+"Hout! Mrs. Bairnsfather," said Mr. Coulter; "you are taking it too
+seriously. Strathoran can stand a good deal. It will take more than one
+lad's extravagance to bring down the family, I trust; and young
+Sutherland used to have good sense and discretion. I spoke to him of
+draining Loelyin before he went away, and he really had very just ideas
+on the subject. No, no; let us hope there will be no ruin in the case."
+
+Mrs. Bairnsfather shook her head again.
+
+"I have no objection to hope the best, Mr. Coulter; but it is no
+uncommon thing to be disappointed in hopes; and, if what I hear be true,
+there is more room for fear."
+
+"What's this," said Mr. Ambler, approaching the little group, as he made
+a leisurely, chatting, circuit round the room--"hoping and fearing, Mrs.
+Bairnsfather? Is it about these happy-looking young people of ours, and
+the future matches that may spring from their pairings--eh, Mrs.
+Coulter?"
+
+Mrs. Coulter smiled, and glanced over to where Walter Foreman lingered
+by her Jeanie's side. They were a handsome couple, and Walter had a nice
+little improvable property, inherited from his mother. There was no
+saying what might come to pass.
+
+"No, Mr. Ambler," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, "we were speaking of poor
+young Strathoran;" and, from the depths of her fat bosom there came a
+mysteriously pathetic sigh.
+
+"Strathoran! what's happened to the lad?" exclaimed Mr. Ambler. "Lewis
+Ross left him well and merry--no accident I hope; but Lewis has not been
+a week at home yet: there is little time for any change in his
+fortunes."
+
+"Ah, Mr. Ambler," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, "it is not aye well to be
+merry. I have heard from those who know, that young Mr. Sutherland's gay
+life is putting his lands in jeopardy; they say he'll spend a whole
+year's income sometimes in a single night, poor ill-advised lad! I
+happened to mention it to Mrs. Catherine, but she turned about upon me,
+as if _I_ was to be any better of Strathoran's downfall, which I am sure
+I never meant, nor anything like it."
+
+"Bless me!" said Mr. Ambler, "I am concerned to hear that--I am grieved,
+do you know, to hear that. Is it possible? Why, I always thought Archie
+Sutherland was a wise lad--a discreet lad of his years."
+
+Mrs. Bairnsfather shook her head.
+
+"Archibald Sutherland ruined!" continued Mr. Ambler, "no, it's surely
+not possible--it must have been an ill-wisher that said that. Why,
+Strathoran is as big as Falcon's Craig and Smoothlie put together--ay,
+and even ye might slip in a good slice off Merkland. Ruined! it's not
+possible. When I came home from India I heard of old Strathoran
+saying--I do not recollect the amount, I always had a bad memory for
+figures--but a great sum every year. It must be a false alarm, Mrs.
+Bairnsfather."
+
+"Very well, gentlemen," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, "it's no concern of
+mine; but a little time will show that I am correct."
+
+"Bless me!" repeated Mr. Ambler, "then the lad must go to India, that is
+clear--he may do great things in India. You see when I was there myself,
+there was the best opening for a lad of talent that could possibly be;
+but I had a yearning for home. I was always uncommonly fond of home, and
+so I am only a country Laird, when I might have been a Nabob. But if he
+were once in India I would have no fear for him--he would soon get up
+again."
+
+"India, Mr. Ambler!" exclaimed Mr. Coulter, "no doubt there are fortunes
+to be made in India; but _I_ fancy it's a shame to us to send our sons
+away to seek gold, when it is lying in our very fields for the
+digging--agriculture--"
+
+"What's that you're saying, Mr. Coulter?" exclaimed the Laird of
+Smoothlie. "Gold! where is't man? we'll all take a hand at that work, if
+it were but for poor auld Scotland's sake, who has ever been said to
+have but a scanty providing of the precious metal."
+
+"There are harvests lying in the cold breast of the great Strathoran
+moor," said the agriculturist, energetically, "of more import to man,
+Mr. Ambler, than if its sands were gold. If what we hear of Archibald
+Sutherland is true, _he_ may never be able to do it now; but a sensible
+man, with sufficient capital, might double the rent-roll of Strathoran."
+
+Mr. Ambler looked slightly contemptuous.
+
+"Well, well, Mr. Coulter, I'll not gainsay you; but to tell the truth,
+I've no notion of making young lads of family and breeding amateur
+ploughmen--I beg your pardon, Mr. Coulter, I mean no affront to you--you
+look upon it as a science, I know, and doubtless so it is; but--you see
+if Archie Sutherland could fall in with such an opening, as was waiting
+ready for me when I went to India, he might be home again, a wealthy
+man, before your harvests were grown."
+
+"James," interposed Mrs. Coulter, "you are not looking at our young
+people--how happy they all seem, poor things. I do not think you have
+seen my Ada, Mr. Ambler, since she returned from Edinburgh."
+
+Mr. Ambler adjusted his spectacles, with a smile. "No, I dare say not.
+Is that her with Lewis Ross? No, that's Mrs. Catherine's little friend.
+Ay, ay, I see her--like what her mother used to be, in my remembrance.
+Mrs. Coulter, you must have great pleasure in your fine family."
+
+Mrs. Coulter smiled, well pleased.
+
+"Do you know, Mr. Ambler," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, "who that Miss Aytoun
+is?"
+
+"Who she is? No, indeed, except a very bonnie little girlie. She is
+that, without dispute; but Mr. Foreman will know. Mr. Foreman, can you
+tell Mrs. Bairnsfather who that young lady is, at Lewis Ross's hand?"
+
+"Miss Aytoun, ma'am, a relative of Mrs. Catherine's," said the lawyer.
+
+"We know that," said Mr. Ambler. "Is that all her history?
+Aytoun--Aytoun--I have surely some associations with that name myself."
+
+"Very likely," said Mr. Foreman, dryly. "She comes from the south
+country; her mother lives in Edinburgh, I believe, and is of a good
+family. I do not know anything further of the young lady, Mrs.
+Bairnsfather; that is, nothing at all interesting."
+
+"Which means," said Mrs. Coulter aside to her husband, as their little
+group increased, and the conversation became more general, "that Mr.
+Foreman knows something very interesting about that pretty little girl.
+Mrs. Catherine is a client of his. Perhaps he thinks of Miss Aytoun for
+Walter. James, will you call Jeanie to me?"
+
+And so, in quiet talk, in that bright drawing-room, these ladies and
+gentlemen--all possessing their average share of kindliness--had decided
+upon the ruin of Archibald Sutherland, who sat this same night in yonder
+brilliant Parisian saloon, with the fatal dice trembling in his hand, in
+all the wild, delirious gaiety of a desperate man; and in their flood of
+easy conversation, had touched upon another centre of crime and misery,
+darker and more fatal still, the facts of which lingered in the
+lawyer-like memory of Walter Foreman's father, and even attached some
+dim associations, in Mr. Ambler's mind, to Alice Aytoun's name. Strange
+domestic volcano, over which these slippered feet passed so heedlessly!
+How often, in quiet houses, and among quiet people, are mighty sins and
+mighty miseries passed by as lightly!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Sleepy, weary, and uncomfortable, the household of Merkland reluctantly
+bestirred itself next morning. Mrs. Ross rose ill-humored from very
+weariness. Duncan, and May, and Barbara, were all more than ordinarily
+stupid; and Mr. Ambler, of Smoothlie, with all his neatness and
+finicality, was still in the house. The imperturbable Mr. Ambler was
+first in the breakfast-parlor, joking Anne on her pale cheeks, and Lewis
+on his last night's conquests--fully prepared to do justice to the
+edibles of the breakfast-table, and not, in any degree, inclined to
+forgive the sleepiness which had mangled these delicate Oran trout, and
+sent up the eggs hard-boiled; for Mr. Ambler, by right of his
+comfort-loving old bachelorship, was excused everywhere for discussing
+matters of the table more minutely than ordinary strangers were
+privileged to do, and had besides, as Lewis Ross's guardian, a familiar
+standing at Merkland.
+
+"Bless me, Madam," said Mr. Ambler, "your cook must have been up all the
+hours of the night. Sleepy huzzies! Why, I myself was not in bed till
+two o'clock, and here I am, as fresh as ever I was. And just look at
+this trout--as beautiful a beast as was ever caught in water--broken
+clean in two! It's quite shocking!"
+
+"Are there never any such incidents in Smoothlie, Mr. Ambler?" asked
+Mrs. Ross, somewhat sharply.
+
+"Accidents, Madam! Do you call _that_ an accident--the massacreing of a
+delicate animal like a trout? No, I send Forsyth to the kitchen every
+morning to superintend; and Forsyth, by long practice, has arrived at
+perfiteness, as the old proverb says.--Better try a bit of one though,
+Lewis, mangled though they be, than hurt your stomach with these eggs;
+they're indigestible, man--like lead. Send me your plate; here is not a
+bad bit."
+
+"There is a kipper beside you, more carefully cooked, Mr. Ambler," said
+Anne, smiling.
+
+"Thank you, Anne, my dear; but I never take kippered trout when I can
+get fresh, fit for the eating. Lewis, man, what makes you yawn so much?
+It's very ill-bred."
+
+Lewis laughed. Mrs. Ross looked displeased. "Poor boy, he is fatigued.
+No wonder, after all his exertions yesterday."
+
+"Fatigued! Nonsense. What should fatigue him?" said Mr. Ambler. "Take my
+word for it, Mrs. Ross, it's just an idle habit, and not genuine
+weariness. A young man, like Lewis, fatigued with enjoying himself!--on
+his one-and-twentieth birthday, too! Who ever heard the like? When I
+was in India (which is neither the day nor yesterday) I have seen me up
+till far on in the night, and yet astir and travelling a couple of hours
+before sunrise.--What would you say to that, Lewis? No; so far as I can
+see, our young generation are more likely to be spoiled by indolence
+than overwork."
+
+"Indolence! that's quite too bad, Mr. Ambler," said Lewis.--"Bear me
+witness, Anne, how I have been running about since I arrived at
+Merkland. I don't think I have had a couple of hours to myself since I
+came home."
+
+"Lewis," said Mr. Ambler, "what was yon I heard last night of Archie
+Sutherland? That little round body, Mrs. Bairnsfather, was enlightening
+us all as to Strathoran's affairs. She says the lad is ruined."
+
+Lewis shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I can't say, Mr. Ambler. I am not so deeply read in economics as the
+good lady. Archie's an extravagant fellow: but--oh! if I say any more, I
+shall have Anne upon me. Never mind, he's a fine fellow, Archie."
+
+"Anne?" said Mr. Ambler, inquisitively. "Ay, what is Anne's special
+interest in Archie Sutherland? Well, I will ask no questions."
+
+"My special interest in Archie Sutherland, is a figment of my brother's
+lively imagination, Mr. Ambler," said Anne, quietly, "produced by what
+inspiration I do not know; but repeated, I suppose, because it annoys
+me."
+
+"Well, you can pay him back in his own coin," said the old gentleman.
+"Oh, you need not look innocent, Lewis. Do you think nobody noticed you
+last night hanging about that pretty little girl of Mrs. Catherine's?
+Bless me! Anne, my dear, what is the matter?"
+
+Anne had turned very pale, and felt a deadly sickness at her heart, as
+she saw the color rising over Lewis's cheek, and the conscious smile of
+pleasure and embarrassment hovering about his lip. But Mrs. Ross spoke
+before she could render any reason for her change of countenance.
+
+"Miss Aytoun, indeed! Upon my word, Mr. Ambler, your ward is indebted to
+you--after all the pains that have been bestowed upon him, and all the
+advantages he has had, to think he could be attracted by yon little
+animated doll. Nonsense! Lewis will look higher, I confidently hope."
+
+"Upon my word, you dispose of me very summarily," said Lewis, half
+laughing, half angry. "Mr. Ambler, will you put my mother in remembrance
+of those cabalistic forms of yesterday, which made me master of my own
+person and possessions. I suppose I may be very thankful, though, that
+you did not make me over to Miss Falconer--eh, Mr. Ambler?"
+
+"Miss Falconer would not take you, Lewis," said Mr. Ambler, coolly. "I
+will trouble you for the toast, Anne, and--yes, I will take the
+marmalade, too--do not alarm yourself, Lewis, you are in no danger from
+Miss Falconer."
+
+Lewis looked piqued. It was more agreeable to feel himself a prize, than
+to be told so very coolly that he was in no danger from Miss Falconer,
+and the pleasant flattery of those blue eyes of Alice Aytoun's, which
+had looked up to him so gladly last night, returned upon him in
+consolatory fascination. His mother's interference, too, excited a
+spirit of opposition and perversity, which stimulated the remembrance;
+and when Mr. Ambler had happily ridden away, Lewis beguiled Anne into
+going out with him, and, before long, their walk terminated at the door
+of the Tower, whither Alice Aytoun had seen them approaching, from her
+high window, and glided softly into the drawing-room, with her gay heart
+fluttering, that she might at once meet and welcome Miss Ross.
+
+"Anne," said Mrs. Catherine, "Alison Aytoun has a petition to make to
+you. She wants you to protect her when she goes to Falcon's Craig. I,
+myself, as you know, am not given to visiting; besides that, at this
+time, I am taken up with graver matters. I would like you to take the
+bairn there to-morrow."
+
+"Oh, if you please, Miss Ross," pleaded Alice.
+
+"For the Tower is dreary enough for a young thing," continued Mrs.
+Catherine, "At all seasons. Lewis, they are always quickening the speed
+of travel: how soon could a letter be answered from Paris?"
+
+"Oh, in a week or two," said Lewis, carelessly. "A fortnight, I dare
+say. But no one ever accused me of punctuality, Mrs. Catherine, so I
+cannot say exactly."
+
+"The more shame to you," said Mrs. Catherine. "A silly youth bragging of
+a short-coming! Truly, Anne, I count it an affliction that folk must
+bear with the lads through their fool-estate, before ye can find an
+inkling of sense in any man. Alison, has Miss Ross consented to take
+charge of you? and will you go, Anne?"
+
+"I shall be very glad," said Anne, as Alice hung round her. "But is not
+Marjory related to Miss Aytoun?"
+
+"It's past counting, that kindred," said Mrs. Catherine; "we could
+reckon it in my generation, that is with Alison's grand-mother and the
+last family of Falconers passing the father of Ralph and Marjory, who
+was an only son, and died young--a poor peasweep he was, that might
+never have been born at all, for all the good he did!--and it was only a
+third or fourth cousinship then. I want the bairn to go to Falcon's
+Craig, more for a diversion to her, than any other thing: and doubtless
+we must have festivities of our own, also. I will borrow your French
+serving-man from you, Lewis, to teach us a right manner of rejoicing."
+
+"You shall have him, with all my heart," said Lewis, with some offended
+dignity; "only, I fear John would not take his orders from Mrs. Morison.
+He is too sensitive."
+
+"Set him up!" exclaimed Mrs. Catherine. "Sensitive, truly! Then you must
+e'en keep him and humor him yourself, Lewis. I am plaguit enough in my
+own household. There is Euphan Morison waylaying me with herbs. I caught
+her my ownself, this very morning, wileing the bairn Alison into
+poisoning herself with a drink made from dockens: the odor of them has
+not left me yet."
+
+"It was only camomile," whispered Alice.
+
+"Never you heed what it was," said Mrs. Catherine. "Unwholesome trash
+that she calls good for the stomach, as if a bairn like Alison had any
+call to know whither she had a stomach or no! I have no patience with
+them. Jacky, you evil spirit, what are ye wanting now?"
+
+"If you please," said Jacky, "It's Mr. Foreman--"
+
+Mrs. Catherine started.
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"And a strange man with him, dressed like a gentleman," continued Jacky.
+"They're in the library, Mrs. Catherine."
+
+Mrs. Catherine rose hurriedly.
+
+"Bairns, you will tarry till I come back. I am not like to be long."
+
+Mr. Foreman, the acute, and sagacious writer of Portoran, was seated in
+the library when Mrs. Catherine entered, and a man of equivocal
+appearance, bearded like the pard, who had been swaggering round the
+room, examining, with an eye of assumed connoisseurship, the dark family
+portraits on the wall, turned round at the sound of her step to make an
+elaborate bow. Mrs. Catherine looked at him impatiently.
+
+"Well, Mr. Foreman, have you brought me any tidings?"
+
+"I have brought you no direct tidings, Mrs. Catherine, but this,"--Mr.
+Foreman looked dubiously at the stranger--"this _gentleman_, whom I met
+accidentally in Portoran, is charged with a mission, the particulars of
+which I thought you would like to know, being deeply interested in Mr.
+Sutherland."
+
+"Maiden aunt," murmured the stranger. "Ah! I see."
+
+"You seem to have clear eyes, Sir," said Mrs. Catherine, sternly. "Mr.
+Sutherland will be a friend of yours, doubtless?"
+
+"Ah! a fine young fellow--most promising lad!" was the answer. "Might be
+a credit to any family. I have the honor of a slight acquaintance.
+Nothing could be more edifying than his walk and conversation, I assure
+you, Madam."
+
+"I will thank you to assure me of what I ask, and trouble your head
+about no more," said Mrs. Catherine. "Are the like of you acquaint--I am
+meaning, is Archibald Sutherland a friend of yours?"
+
+"Very intimate. My friend Lord Gillravidge and he are. Astonishing young
+man, Madam, my friend Lord Gillravidge--missed church once last year,
+and was quite overcome with contrition--so much comforted by Mr.
+Sutherland's Christian friendship and fraternity--quite delighted to be
+a spectator of it, I assure you."
+
+"I was asking you about Archibald Sutherland, Sir," said Mrs. Catherine,
+standing stiffly erect, as the stranger threw himself into a chair
+unbidden, "and in what manner the like of you were connected with him. I
+am waiting for your answer."
+
+"A long story, Madame," said the stranger, coolly, "of friendly interest
+and mutual good offices. I have seen Mr. Sutherland often with my friend
+Lord G., and was anxious to do him a service--my time being always at my
+friend's disposal."
+
+"Mr. Foreman," exclaimed Mrs. Catherine, "know you the meaning of all
+this? You are a lawyer, man; see if you cannot shape questions so as
+they shall be answered."
+
+"Your friend Lord Gillravidge is intimately acquainted with Mr.
+Sutherland?" interrogated Mr. Foreman.
+
+"Precisely--delightful; dwelling together in unity, like--"
+
+"And Mr. Sutherland is in embarrassed circumstances?" continued Mr.
+Foreman, impelled by an impatient gesture from Mrs. Catherine.
+
+The stranger turned round with a contraction of his forehead and gave a
+significant nod.
+
+"A most benevolent young man--kind-hearted people are always being
+tricked by impostors, and made security for friends--merely
+temporary--does him infinite credit, I assure you, Madam."
+
+"Assure me no lies!" exclaimed Mrs. Catherine. "What have you to do--a
+paltry trickster as you are--with the lad Archie Sutherland: answer me
+that?"
+
+"Madam!" exclaimed the stranger, rising indignantly, and assuming an
+attitude.
+
+"The lady is aware of Mr. Sutherland's embarrassments," interposed Mr.
+Foreman, "and is putting no inquiries touching the cause. Your friend,
+Lord Gillravidge, Mr. ----"
+
+"Fitzherbert, Sir," said the stranger.
+
+"Mr. Fitzherbert has served Mr. Sutherland in a pecuniary way?"
+
+Mr. Fitzherbert bowed.
+
+"And you are charged with a mission of a peculiar kind to Strathoran.
+Might I beg you to explain its nature to Mrs. Catherine Douglas, a lady
+who is deeply interested in your friend's friend, Mr. Sutherland."
+
+The stranger looked perplexed, gracefully confused, and hung back, as if
+in embarrassment and diffidence.
+
+"The fact is, Madam, I am placed in quite a peculiar position--a mission
+strictly confidential, intrusted to me--friendly inquiries--which I have
+no authority to divulge. I beg I may not be questioned further."
+
+"Mr. Fitzherbert, fortunately, was less delicate with me, Mrs.
+Catherine," said Mr. Foreman. "Mr. Sutherland, Madam, is in treaty for
+the sale of Strathoran--for some portion of the estate, at least, and
+this gentleman is commissioned to report upon it, as he tells me, before
+the bargain is completed."
+
+"Not fair--against all principles of honor," exclaimed Mr. Fitzherbert.
+"A mis-statement, Madam, I assure you; merely some shooting-grounds. Mr.
+Sutherland is no sportsman himself, and my friend, Lord Gillravidge, is
+a keen one. Amicable exchange--nothing more."
+
+Mrs. Catherine stood firmly erect; gazing into the blank air. The shock
+was great to her; for some moments she neither moved nor spoke.
+
+"I appeal to yourself, Madam," resumed the stranger. "_I_ investigate
+farms and fields. I, fresh from the most refined circles: do I look like
+a person to report upon clods and cattle?"
+
+The voice startled Mrs. Catherine from her fixed gravity.
+
+"I will come to you by-and-by, Mr. Foreman," she said. "Gather the story
+as clear as may be--at present, I cannot be troubled with strangers."
+
+A slight, emphatic motion of her hand conveyed her desire that the
+friend and emissary of Lord Gillravidge should be dismissed as speedily
+as possible, and turning, she left the room.
+
+"Spoilt it all," exclaimed Fitzherbert, as the door closed, "never have
+any commerce with lawyers--bad set--Scotch especially--keen--ill-natured.
+What harm would it have done you, old gentleman, if I had pleased the
+old lady about her nephew, and got her, perhaps, to come down with
+something handsome? I always like to serve friends myself--wanted to
+put in a good word for Sutherland--but it's all spoiled now."
+
+"You expect to see more of Strathoran, I suppose," said Mr. Foreman;
+"good sport on the moor, they tell me, Mr. Fitzherbert, and you say Lord
+Gillravidge is a keen sportsman."
+
+"Keen in most things," said the stranger, with an emphatic nod.
+"Sharp--not to be taken in--simple Scotch lad no match for
+Gillravidge--serves him right, for thinking he was. But I say, old
+gentleman, don't be ill-natured and tell the aunt--let him have a fresh
+start."
+
+"It is to be a sale, then?" said the lawyer, "is your friend really to
+buy Strathoran?"
+
+The stranger laughed contemptuously.
+
+"Has Sutherland got anything else, that you ask that? all the purchase
+money's gone already--nothing coming your way, old gentleman--all the
+more cruelty in you preventing me from speaking a good word for him to
+his aunt."
+
+"Was the bargain concluded when you left?" said Mr. Foreman.
+
+"Very near it," was the reply. "Why, he's been plunging on deeper in
+Gillravidge's debt every night. _I_ say it was uncommonly merciful to
+think of taking the land--an obscure Scotch place, with nothing but the
+preserves worth looking at; but Gillravidge knows what he's about."
+
+Half an hour afterwards, Mrs. Catherine re-entered the library. The
+obnoxious visitor was gone, and Mr. Foreman sat alone, his brow clouded
+with thoughtfulness. He, too, had known Archibald Sutherland's youth,
+and in his father had had a friend, and the kindly bond of that little
+community drew its members of all ranks too closely together, to suffer
+the overthrow of one without regret and sympathy.
+
+"Is it true--think you it is true?" said Mrs. Catherine.
+
+"I can think nothing else," said Mr. Foreman, gravely; "there is but one
+hope--that strange person who left the Tower just now tells me that the
+bargain was not completed. Mr. Ferguson's letter, telling Strathoran of
+the advance you were willing to make, Mrs. Catherine, may have reached
+him in time to prevent this calamity."
+
+"I cannot hope it--I cannot hope it," said Mrs. Catherine, vehemently.
+"It is a race trysted to evil. Do you not mind, George Foreman, how the
+last Strathoran was held down all his days, with the burdens that father
+and grandsire had left upon him? Do you not mind of him joining with his
+father to break the entail, that some of the debts might be paid
+thereby? and now, when he has labored all his life to leave the good
+land clear to his one son, must it be lost to the name and blood? George
+Foreman, set your face against the breaking of entails! I say it is an
+unrighteous thing to give one of a race the power of disinheriting the
+rest; to put into the hands of a youth like Archie Sutherland, fatally
+left to his own devices, the option of overthrowing an old and good
+house--I say it is unrighteous, and a shame!"
+
+Mr. Foreman made no answer--well enough pleased as he might have been
+that in this particular case, the lands of Strathoran had been
+entailed, he yet had no idea of committing himself on the abstract
+principle, and Mrs. Catherine continued:
+
+"What is he to do? what can the unhappy prodigal do, but draw the prize
+of the waster--want. I cannot stand between him and his righteous
+reward--I will do no such injustice. Where did you meet with the
+ne'er-do-weel that brought you the tidings, Mr. Foreman? a fit messenger
+no doubt, with his hairy face, and his lying tongue." Mrs. Catherine
+groaned. "You are well gone to your rest, Isabel Balfour, before you saw
+your firstborn herding with cattle like yon!"
+
+"I think," said Mr. Foreman, "that you are anticipating evil which is by
+this time averted, Mrs. Catherine. At the very crisis of Strathoran's
+broken fortunes, your seasonable assistance would come in; and, on such
+a temperament as his, I should fancy the sight of the precipice so near
+would operate powerfully. I know how it has acted on myself, who ought
+to have more prudence than Mr. Sutherland, if years are anything. I came
+here to advise you to withdraw your money, when there was such imminent
+danger of loss--and here I am, building my own hopes and yours on the
+fact of its being promised."
+
+Mrs. Catherine was pacing heavily through the room.
+
+"What care I for the siller," she exclaimed, sternly. "What is the
+siller to me, in comparison with the welfare of Isabel Balfour's son?
+Doubtless, if all the rest is gone, there is no need for throwing away
+that with our eyes open; but what share in my thoughts, think you, has
+the miserable dirt of siller, when the fate of the lad that might have
+been of my own blood, is quivering in the balance? George Foreman, you
+are discreet and judicious, but the yellow mammon is overmuch in your
+mind. What is it to me that leave none after me--that am the last of my
+name?"
+
+"I think we may depend on the last statement of that strange
+messenger--that Fitzherbert," said Mr. Foreman, endeavoring gently to
+lower the excitement of his client, "that he came down to examine, and
+would have his report to make, before the transaction was finished. Your
+letter must reach Strathoran, Mrs. Catherine, before this fellow can
+return. Depend upon it, the immediate danger is averted. Mr. Sutherland
+has good sense and judgment: he must by this time have perceived the
+danger, and receded from it."
+
+Mrs. Catherine seated herself in gloomy silence.
+
+"And if he has," she said, after a long pause, "if he has saved himself
+for this moment, what then? He has sown the wind, and think you he can
+shun its harvest? What has he to trust to? principle, honor, good fame,
+the fear of God, the right regard to the judgment of his fellows which
+becomes every man--has he not thrown them all away? What is there then,
+to look to in his future, if it be not a drifting before every wind, a
+running in every stray path, a following of all things that have the
+false glitter upon them, whatsoever ill may be below? I am done with
+hope for the lad: there is nothing to guide him, nothing to restrain
+him. I must e'en take fear to my heart, and look this grief in the
+face."
+
+"He is quite young," said Mr. Foreman; "there is abundant time and room
+for hope, Mrs. Catherine. I feel assured we have erred on the side of
+fear. A shrewd lad, like Strathoran, surely could not be fascinated to
+his destruction, in society which can tolerate that man, Fitzherbert.
+Depend upon it, we have overrated the dangers; and that, by this time,
+Mr. Sutherland has taken warning, and withdrawn. A pretty counsellor I
+am, after all!--I should have sent Walter--coming here to advise you to
+withdraw your money, and now felicitating myself that it is given."
+
+Mrs. Catherine became more cheerful at last, before the kind-hearted
+Portoran writer took his departure, and admitted the chances in favor of
+his hopes. Archibald _had_ been shrewd and sensible, and could not
+surely be so ruinously involved as to put his whole estate in peril;
+nevertheless, dreary visions, such as he had read in books of modern
+travel, of haggard gamesters risking their all upon a cast--staking
+wealth, and hope, and honor, in the desperate game, and marking its loss
+with the ghastly memento of blood, the hopeless death of the
+suicide--rose darkly before the lawyer's eyes, as he rode home--home, to
+pleasant competence and unobtrusive refinement, and to a family of sound
+principle and cultivated intellect, in whose healthful upbringing and
+clear atmosphere fictitious excitement had no share.
+
+And Mrs. Catherine went up stairs, gravely, to her cheerful inner
+drawing-room, and looking on the youthful faces there--the peaceful
+household looks, suggesting anything rather than misery and
+crime--forgot her terrors for Isabel Balfour's son, warm as her interest
+in him was.
+
+Haggard, desolate, hopeless, with no roof which he could justly call his
+own to shelter him, and with a dreary blank before him, where the
+teeming dreams of a bright future were wont to be, Archibald Sutherland
+stood that night, in the strange alien country, a ruined man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+Tiresome as the manifold preparations for a feast may be, there is
+something especially dreary and full of discomfort in the bustle of
+setting to rights, which comes after: dismantled rooms undergoing a
+thorough purification, before they can once more settle down into their
+every day look and aspect; servants, in a chaos and frenzy of
+orderliness, turning the house into a Babel--a kitchen saturnalia;
+mistresses toiling in vain to have the work concluded bit by bit; and
+all this without the stimulant of expected pleasure to make it bearable.
+
+Mrs. Ross rather liked such an overturn, and had it commenced gaily in
+the first relief of Mr. Ambler's departure; so that when Lewis and Anne
+returned from the Tower, there was no place of refuge for them, save in
+the small library, which Lewis had already appropriated as his own
+peculiar place of retirement.
+
+Mrs. Ross had long taken a malicious pleasure in excluding Anne from all
+share in the economies of Merkland, in which, indeed, her own active
+habits and managing disposition could brook no divided empire; and it
+was not, therefore any super refinement of feeling which called Anne
+Ross out after her daily task was over, into the silent evening air,
+upon the quiet side of Oran. It is true that there were delicate tones
+of harmony there, which few ears could appreciate as well as her own;
+but the first yearning of these human spirits of ours, is for the
+sympathy of other human spirits, and it is oftenest disappointment in
+that, which at once makes us seek for, and susceptible to, the mild pity
+and silent companionship of the wide earth around us.
+
+A long invigorating walk she had, the little river modulating its voice,
+as she could fancy, to bear her musings gentle company. Strangely
+accordant was that plaintive harmony of nature. Wan leaves dropping one
+by one, the stillness so great that you could hear them fall: the wide
+air ringing with its tremulous, silent music; the pleasant voice of Oran
+blending in low cadence, "most musical, most melancholy." These
+graduated tones had been significant and solemn to Anne's spirit all her
+life long--from the dreamy days of childhood, so strangely grave and
+thoughtful, with all their shadowy array of haunting ghosts and angels,
+those constant comrades of the meditative child--up through the long
+still years of youth, unto this present time of grave maturity, of
+subdued and chastened prime. Other and mightier things, springing from
+heaven and not from earth, the presence of that invisible Friend, whose
+brotherhood of human sympathy circles His people, no less tenderly than
+His divine strength holds them up, were with her in her solitude; and
+the lesser music of His fair universe wrought its fitting part in the
+calming of the troubled spirit; pensive, shadowy, calm, and full of that
+strange spiritual breath, which Time has, in his momentary lingering
+between the night and day.
+
+A lonely unfrequented path, winding by Oranside, to a little clump of
+houses, not very far off, almost too few to be dignified by the name of
+hamlet, ran close to the high, encircling hedge, which shut in at that
+side the grounds of Merkland. Not far from the principal entrance was a
+little gate, across which the branches nearly joined, and which was
+never used, except by Anne herself, in her solitary rambles. She
+lingered at it, before she entered again--her dark dress scarcely
+distinguishable from the thick boughs behind her, as she leant upon the
+lintel. There was some one approaching on the road, whom Anne regarded
+with little interest, thinking her some resident of the hamlet,
+returning to her home; but as the passenger came in front of Merkland,
+she suddenly stopped, and standing still upon the road, gazed on the
+quiet house. Her head was turned towards the gate, and Anne, startled
+into attention, looked upon it wonderingly--an emaciated, pale face,
+that spoke of suffering, with large, dark, spiritual eyes, beaming from
+it, as eyes can beam only from faces so worn and wasted. Wistfully the
+long, slow look fell upon Merkland; standing there, so firm, serene, and
+homelike, its light shining through the trees. And then Anne heard an
+inarticulate murmur, as of muttered words, and the cadence of a deep,
+long sigh, and the stranger--for the wan face, and thin, tall figure,
+were too remarkable to have escaped her notice, had the passer-by been
+other than a stranger--went forward upon the darkening path, scarce
+noting her, Anne thought, as the figure glided past her, like a spirit.
+
+The image would not leave her mind. The pale, worn face--the wistful,
+searching eyes--haunted her through that night, and mingled with her
+dreams. Strange visions of Norman, such as now filled her mind
+continually, received into them this stranger's spiritual face. Dangers,
+troubles, the whole indefinite horde of dreaming apprehensions and
+embarrassments clung round those wistful eyes, as round a centre. Anne
+could scarcely believe next morning, when she awoke, with the
+remembrance so clear upon her mind, that it was not some supernatural
+presence, lingering about her still.
+
+The morning was very bright and clear, and cold, for October was waning
+then into the duskier winter; and Anne, remembering her engagement with
+Alice, laid her work by early, and prepared to walk up to the Tower. She
+met Lewis, booted and spurred, at the door.
+
+"Are you going to the Tower, Anne?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," was the answer.
+
+"Well, don't be surprised if you find me at Falcon's Craig, before you."
+
+"At Falcon's Craig, Lewis! What errand have you there?"
+
+"May I not make a friendly call as well as yourself?" said Lewis, gaily.
+"Besides, I shall take care of you, on the way home. How do I know that
+the Strathoran roads are quite safe for young ladies?"
+
+"But I thought you were afraid of Miss Falconer?" said Anne.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Ambler relieved me of that fear, you know. She wouldn't have
+me, he said. Very fortunate, for she will never get the offer."
+
+"Mr. Ambler was quite right," said Anne, uneasily. "But, Lewis do not
+go, pray--take another morning for your call at Falcon's Craig. Your
+mother will be grieved and irritated--do not go to-day."
+
+"My mother!" Lewis drew himself up with all the petulant dignity
+peculiar to his years. "Upon my word, Anne, you are perfectly mistaken
+if you think I have come home to be restrained and chidden like a
+schoolboy! Grieved and irritated! because that pretty little Miss Aytoun
+happens to be of the party, I suppose. You are a foolish set, you women,
+forcing things upon a man's consideration, which, if you had but let him
+alone--." Lewis drew himself up again, and let the end of his sentence
+evaporate in a smile.
+
+"I was not thinking of--I mean it is not for Miss Aytoun," said Anne,
+anxiously; "but your mother wants to consult you, Lewis. There are so
+many matters of business to attend to that you should manage yourself.
+Do not go to-day."
+
+"Don't fear me!" said Lewis, confidently. "I will attend to my business,
+too. We shall soon see who is strongest in that respect. Here, Duncan!"
+
+Duncan had brought his master's horse to the door, and stood at some
+distance, holding the bridle.
+
+"Good morning, Anne!" cried Lewis, as he mounted and cantered gaily out.
+"I am off to Falcon's Craig."
+
+Anne would gladly have broken her appointment now, had that been
+possible, but, as it was not, she too set out on her way to the Tower. A
+comfortable pony-carriage--Mrs. Catherine's favorite vehicle--stood at
+the gate as she entered, and up stairs in her bright dressing-room Alice
+Aytoun was hastily wrapping herself in the costly furs--Mrs. Catherine's
+latest present--which she had already spent so much time in admiring.
+
+"Child," said Mrs. Catherine, during the moment in which they were left
+alone together, "let Lewis come to me the morn; or is he with you
+to-day?"
+
+"He spoke of meeting us at Falcon's Craig, and returning with us," said
+Anne.
+
+"Bring him to me, then, when you come back," said Mrs. Catherine. "I am
+feared there is little hope for the lad, Archie Sutherland, child, and I
+am solicitous to hear from Lewis what kind of friends his sister Isabel
+has. If the lad is ruined (which the Almighty avert, if it be His
+pleasure!) what is the wilful fool of a girl to do? A man may win back
+good fame, even if it be once lost--and _that_ is a sore fight--but a
+woman can never; and if she be left in that narrow place, with an
+evil-speaking world that judges other folk as it knows it should be
+judged itself, I say to you, child, what is the inconsiderate fuil to
+do?"
+
+"Captain Duncombe will surely come to take care of his wife," said Anne.
+
+"What know you about Captain Duncombe?" exclaimed Mrs. Catherine. "I
+will go myself to bring Isabel Balfour's ill bairn home to my own house,
+child--the fittest place for her to be. I will leave her to the tender
+mercies of no ill-conditioned man, well though she may deserve it; that
+is if things come to the worst with Archie. Bring Lewis to me when ye
+come back, child. I would know what kind of folk she has her friends
+among."
+
+In a few minutes after, attended by Johnnie Halflin, the two young
+ladies drove over the bridge on their way to Falcon's Craig.
+
+The road was pleasant, and Alice was so very gay and full of happiness,
+that Anne's heart expanded in involuntary sympathy. The girl had been so
+tenderly guarded through all her seventeen years, so hedged about with
+domestic love and protection, and did so trustingly rely now upon the
+kindness of all about her, that few could have been harsh enough to
+disappoint the reliance of the youthful spirit, or teach it suspicion.
+It was, besides, an altogether new enjoyment to Anne, to have anything
+loveable looking up to her as Alice did. It suited her graver nature to
+be trusted in, and leaned upon. The depths in Anne's spirit began to
+stir; tenderness as of a mother's to spread its protecting wing over the
+"little one" beside her. Might _she_ not make some secret
+atonement--might she not by tenderest care, and sympathy, and counsel,
+in some slight degree, make up the loss which her brother's hand had
+inflicted upon that unconscious girl?
+
+They reached Falcon's Craig at last. It was a great, rambling, gaunt,
+old house, standing high and bare, with inartistic turrets, and
+unsightly gables, on the summit of a rock. The perpendicular descent
+behind was draped with clinging shrubs and ivy, but the situation gave
+a bleak, cold, exposed look to the house. Nor had any precautions been
+taken to amend this. Trees and shrubs before the door grew rough and
+unkempt as nature had let them grow. The grass upon the lawn waved high
+and rank, great rows of hollyhocks and sunflowers shed their withered
+leaves and ripe seed below the windows. The much-trodden path, at the
+further end which led to the stables, and the presence of one or two
+lounging grooms, told the enjoyments of the Laird of Falcon's Craig, and
+explained, in some degree, the inferior cultivation of the neighboring
+fields--fields over which Mr. Coulter, of Harrows, with a good-humored
+desire to see all around him as prosperous as himself, shook his head
+and groaned.
+
+The visitors alighted, and were shown into Miss Falconer's heterogeneous
+drawing-room. The lady herself lay upon a sofa near the fire, with a
+newspaper in her hand. Alice Aytoun did not like the appearance of the
+reclining figure, in its bold, manlike attitude, and kept close to
+Anne's side.
+
+"Anne Ross!" exclaimed Miss Falconer, springing up with an energy which
+made the room ring; "why, I should as soon have thought of Merkland
+coming to see me bodily, as you. How do you do? How are you, little Miss
+Aytoun? Tired of the Tower yet?"
+
+"No," said Alice, drawing back, instinctively.
+
+"Don't be afraid; I won't hurt you," said Miss Falconer, with a laugh.
+"Well, Anne, how do you get on in Merkland? Mrs. Ross will be good and
+dutiful now, when Lewis is at home."
+
+"You must ask Lewis himself," said Anne; "he is here now, is he not?"
+
+The face of Alice, which had been somewhat in shadow, brightened.
+
+"Oh, yes, Lewis is here," said Miss Falconer; "gone with Ralph to these
+everlasting stables. Take notice, Miss Aytoun, that when gentlemen come
+to Falcon's Craig, it is Ralph's horses and dogs they come to see, and
+not his sister. I say this, that you may not be jealous."
+
+Little Alice blushed, and drew up her slight young figure, with some
+budding dignity. "I have nothing to be jealous of, Miss Falconer."
+
+Miss Falconer laughed again. "Well, we will not say anything before
+Anne. Anne is taking lessons from Mrs. Catherine, in state and gravity.
+How did you come? In that little phæton, I declare, with these two sober
+ponies, that I have known all my life. You never ride now, Anne?"
+
+"I do not remember that I ever did," said Anne. "We keep few horses in
+Merkland; and besides, Marjory, there are not many ladies of your nerve
+and courage."
+
+"Miss Aytoun," said Miss Falconer, gaily, "do you ever flatter? Anne,
+you see, knows my weak point, and attacks me accordingly. She thinks I
+rather pride myself on these two unsafe qualities of nerve and courage.
+Well, and why should we be cooped up within four walls, and sentenced to
+do propriety all our lives? The bolder a man is, the more he is thought
+of; but let one of us hapless women but stir a step beyond the line, and
+we have 'improper, indecorous, unwomanly,' thundered in our ears from
+every side."
+
+"Then you will not acknowledge the proverbial truth of what everybody
+says?" said Anne.
+
+"Not a bit," said Miss Falconer, boldly. "Why should not I follow the
+hounds as briskly, and read that political article," she pointed to the
+paper she had thrown down, "with as much interest as my brother? I do,
+it is true; but see how all proper mammas draw their pretty behaved
+young ladies under their wings, when I approach. You all desert me, you
+cowards of women; I have only men's society to fall back upon."
+
+"But did you not tell us just now that you liked that best?" ventured
+little Alice Aytoun.
+
+"No, not I. Perhaps I do, though; but I did not say it."
+
+"Then, after all," said Anne, "the mistake is not in what we quiet
+people call decorous, and proper, and feminine; but only that you, with
+your high spirits and courage, have the misfortune to be called Marjory,
+instead of Ralph; that is all; for here, you see, are Miss Aytoun and
+myself, and all the womankind of Strathoran to back us, who have no
+ambition whatever to follow the hounds, nor any very particular interest
+in the leading article. It is merely an individual mistake, Marjory.
+Acknowledge it."
+
+"Not I," exclaimed Miss Falconer; "it is a universal oppression of the
+sex. They try to reason us down first, these men; and failing that, they
+laugh us down: they will not be able to accomplish either, one of these
+days. There! how you turn upon me, with that provoking smile of yours,
+Anne Ross. What are you thinking of now?"
+
+"Do you remember a little poem--I think of Southey's," said Anne,
+smiling--"about the great wars of Marlbro' and Prince Eugene, long ago?
+I was thinking of its _owerword_, Marjory--'What good came of it at
+last? said little Wilhelmine.'"
+
+"Ah, that is just like you," said Miss Falconer; "coming down upon one
+with your scraps of poetry, when one is speaking common sense. Oh, you
+need not raise your eyebrows! I tell you I am speaking quite reasonably
+and calmly; and we shall see, one day."
+
+"But, Miss Falconer," inquired Alice, timidly, "what shall we see?"
+
+"See! Why, a proper equality between men and women, as we were created,"
+said Miss Falconer, vehemently. "No more bandaging up our minds, as they
+do the feet of the poor girls in China--oppressing us for their own
+whims, everywhere! No more shutting us out of our proper share in the
+management of the world--no more confining us in housekeepers' rooms and
+nurseries; to make preserves, and dress babies!"
+
+"Are the babies to be abolished, then?" said Anne. "For pity's sake,
+Marjory, do not sentence the poor little things to masculine nurses.
+Farewell to all music or harmony, then. If we are to dress babies no
+more, let it be ordained, I pray you, that there shall be no more babies
+to dress!"
+
+"Nonsense, Anne!" exclaimed Marjory Falconer, loudly; "you want to
+ridicule all I say. You are content with the bondage--content to be
+regarded as a piece of furniture, a household drudge, a pretty doll."
+
+"Hush!" said Anne; "spare me the abjective. I am in no danger of your
+last evil. And see how Miss Aytoun looks at you."
+
+"Never mind," said Miss Falconer; "Miss Aytoun will sympathise with me,
+I am sure; every true woman must. See how they smile at our
+opinions--how they sneer at our judgment--'Oh, it's only a woman.' I
+tell you, Anne Ross, all that will be changed by-and-bye. We shall have
+equal freedom, equal rights--our own proper dignity and standing in the
+world."
+
+"And how will it change our position?" said Anne.
+
+"How obtuse you are! Change our position! Why it will make us free--it
+will emancipate us--it will----"
+
+"Particulars, particulars, Marjory?"
+
+Miss Falconer paused.
+
+"We shall not be thought unfit any longer to do what men do; our equal
+mental power and intelligence shall be recognised. We shall have equal
+rights--we shall be free!"
+
+Anne looked up smiling.
+
+"'And what good came of it at last? said little Wilhelmine.'"
+
+Miss Falconer started from her seat in anger, and walked quickly through
+the room for a moment, Alice looked on in wonder and alarm. At last
+Marjory approached the table, looked Anne in the face, half smiling,
+half angry, and replied, in a burst:
+
+    "'Nay, that I cannot tell,' quoth he,
+     But 'twas a glorious victory?'"
+
+Conversation less abstract followed, when Lewis and Ralph joined them;
+and not long after, Anne and Alice resumed their places in the phaeton,
+and turned homewards, Lewis riding by their side. Anne's spirits had
+wonderfully lightened during their drive, and now she defended Marjory
+Falconer, almost gaily, against the laughing and half-contemptuous
+attacks of Lewis.
+
+"Marjory arms all the silly lads in the parish with flippant
+impertinences about women and their rights, Miss Aytoun," she said. "I
+did not mean you, Lewis, so there is no occasion for drowing yourself
+up. Yet Marjory has some strength, and much kindliness of spirit. And
+when she has once got rid of those foolish notions, which she will when
+she has matured a little--"
+
+Anne stopped abruptly. She had noticed before the tall, stooping figure
+of a woman advancing towards them, and could recognise now, as the
+passenger approached, the wan face, and wistful, melancholy eyes, which
+had made so deep an impression upon her imagination, when she saw them
+on the previous night, looking so sorrowfully on Merkland. A very
+remarkable face it was, which the stranger now lifted to them, as she
+passed slowly on, speaking in its emaciated lines of mental struggle
+more than bodily sickness; and with its strange habitual look of wistful
+search, as if its eyes had been exercised by constant watching, and had
+sought about vainly for some hope or gladness never to be found again.
+Anne met her steadfast, melancholy look for a moment; in another she had
+passed on.
+
+"What is the matter, Anne?" said Lewis.
+
+Anne drove on awhile, in silence.
+
+"Did you not observe that face?"
+
+"What face? I saw a woman passing, who stared at you, as you did at her;
+don't be sentimental, Anne: some shopkeeper's wife, from Portoran, who
+has been at the mill. What were you saying of Marjory Falconer? Go on."
+
+Anne went on.
+
+"She will mature by-and-by, and come out of these follies a sensible
+woman. You shake your head, Lewis. She will never be of the gentlest;
+but sensible, and kindly, and vigorous, I believe she will be, one day.
+There is often some eccentricity about strength, in its development."
+
+"Hear, hear," cried Lewis. "Do you observe how Anne turns her periods,
+Miss Aytoun? Marjory will keep a chair for you, Anne, in some of her
+feminine colleges, when she has accomplished the rights of women. Moral
+philosophy! I hope they will give you an LL.D."
+
+They reached the mill as Lewis spoke. It stood near the spot Mr. Coulter
+had spoken of "where three lairds' lands met;" and the burn was
+intercepted for the uses of the mill, just before it joined its waters
+to the Oran.
+
+Anne drew up her ponies at the end of the little bridge, which gave
+access to the miller's dwelling. Alice had never seen this picturesque
+corner of the Oran banks, and Anne proposed giving her a glimpse of the
+bright interior of Mrs. Melder's pleasant house: she was anxious herself
+to ask the miller's wife if she knew anything of the singular stranger,
+whose appearance had interested her so much.
+
+So Johnnie Halflin scrambled down from his perch behind, to hold Lewis's
+horse, much wondering what motive they could have for calling on Mrs.
+Melder; and Alice lingered on the grassy bank, that sloped down to the
+riverside, from Mrs. Melder's door, to ask questions and to admire. The
+grey mill buildings, and mighty revolving wheel, and rush of foaming
+water, as the bairn, like some brown mountain urchin, ran, boisterous,
+from its labors into the placid Oran, giving life and animation to the
+stream it increased, were worthy of admiration even more genuine than
+that of Alice, whose little heart was beating very pleasantly, from
+various causes, which she had not skill, if she had had inclination, to
+analyze.
+
+But the cottage door was suddenly flung open, a loud scream startled
+them, and, turning round alarmed, they saw a child flee out, its little
+frock blazing, its face distorted with pain and fear. Alice screamed,
+and clung to the arm of Lewis, Lewis called to the boy, and sprang
+irresolutely forward himself, not knowing what to do; Johnnie Halflin
+scampered off in terror, holding firmly the bridle of his charge, and
+the child, blinded with fear, and scorched with pain, flew forward
+madly. Anne snatched from the carriage a large, rough plaid, threw
+herself before the little girl, and wrapped it closer round her. The
+child struggled--Anne pressed the long, wide folds closer and closer
+round her, extinguishing the flames with her hands. The terrified
+miller's wife ran to her assistance--so did Lewis, and at last, very
+much frightened, and considerably scorched, but with no serious injury,
+the child was carried into the house, where Alice followed timidly,
+pressing the small hand of the sufferer within her own, and murmuring
+kindly words to still its weeping. It was a little girl of some six
+years, and moaned out its childish lamentations in broken words of some
+strange, sweet, foreign tongue. The remnants of its burnt dress, too,
+were not like the ordinary garments of peasant children, and Mrs. Melder
+herself had no family.
+
+"God be thankit ye were passing by, Miss Anne!" exclaimed Mrs. Melder.
+"I am the silliest body mysel that was ever putten in a strait. Eh! do
+ye no hear my heart beating?--and the stranger bairn!"
+
+"Whose is it, Mrs. Melder?" asked Anne, as they undressed the moaning
+child, and laid her on the wooden bed which formed part of the furniture
+of the homely apartment.
+
+"And that is just what I cannot tell ye, Miss Anne," said the miller's
+wife. "It was left wi' me by ane--ye wad meet her on the road. She wasna
+put on like a lady, but she wasna a common body either--it was clear to
+see that. We've had a dreary house, Robert and me, since little Bell
+(ye'll mind her, Miss Anne?) was ta'en from us, two years syne come
+Martinmas, and the stranger leddy had heard tell o't, and thocht, as she
+said, that I wad be guid to the child--as I will, doubtless, puir,
+innocent thing!--who could be otherwise?"
+
+"And where did she come from?" inquired Anne, as she assisted in
+applying some simple remedies.
+
+"The bairn? Na, how can I tell you that Miss Anne, when I dinna ken
+mysel?"
+
+"No, no; I mean the lady," said Anne, hurriedly. "I saw her--a very
+remarkable-looking person she is. Is the child her own?"
+
+"Na; she _said_ no, any way," said Mrs. Melder. "Whaever it belongs to,
+they think shame o't, that's sure. Woes me, Miss Ross! the ill that
+there is in this world! She has been living at the brig for a day or two
+back, and the bairn wi' her. I am doubtful it was but a foolish thing,
+taking a bairn when one kens nought of its kindred. But the house was
+dreary. Where there has been a babe in a dwelling, it makes great odds
+when the light of its bit countenance is lifted away, and my heart
+warmed to the puir wee thing, sent out from its own bluid. So I took it,
+ye see, Miss Ross, and Robert he didna oppose. It's to bide two
+years--if we're all spared as long--and the stipend for it is twenty
+pound, and the siller's lying in Mr. Foreman the writer's hands--so we
+canna come to any loss. It's an uncommon bairn a'thegither o't, and
+speaks in a tongue neither Robert nor me can make onything of. It maun
+have come from some far part--was ye speaking, my lamb?"
+
+Anne beckoned Lewis forward as the child murmured again some incoherent
+words.
+
+"What language is it?--I do not recognize the tongue."
+
+"It is Spanish," said Lewis. "Strange! Where did the child come from,
+Mrs. Melder?"
+
+The miller's wife repeated her story, and, promising to call at the
+house of the doctor on their way homeward, and send him up to the little
+patient, her visitors left her, and proceeded on their way, disturbed by
+no further incident, except in Anne's mind, by the strange excitement of
+interest with which this story moved her. She could not banish the
+stranger's pale face from her mind, nor forget the pitiful look of the
+little child, in whose soft features she thought she could trace some
+resemblance, moaning out its feeble complaint in that strange language,
+uncomprehended, and alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+These days passed on in suspense and anxiety to Mrs. Catherine.
+Uncertain what to believe or disbelieve, concerning the young man in
+whose fortunes she was so deeply interested, her strong spirit chafed
+and struggled in its compulsory inactivity. Nor did Lewis's report of
+Mrs. Duncombe's friends, in any degree still her anxiety. Fashionable
+ladies stood low in Mrs. Catherine's opinion at all times; and her
+strong nationality aggravated tenfold her dislike to fashionable ladies
+in Paris--French or semi-French. Had it not been for Alice, Mrs.
+Catherine herself would have been on her way to Paris ere now. But
+unwilling to send the girl abruptly home, and riveted besides by a
+hundred little ties, which made her absence from the Tower (she had not
+left it since her sorrowful journey, thirty years' ago, from Sholto's
+island grave) seem an impossibility; she waited--we are constrained to
+admit, not patiently--for further tidings, inclined to hope sometimes
+that Mr. Foreman's benevolent surmise might be well-founded; and anon,
+cast down, and venting her grief in a show of bitter indignation at "the
+prodigal that could sell his birthright."
+
+Many solitary hours were spent during that anxious fortnight (for mails
+travelled tardily thirty years ago) in the little room--and many
+wrestlings of secret, silent prayer these narrow walls were witness to.
+Jacky, gliding hither and thither in her elfin ubiquity, could hear Mrs.
+Catherine's step shake the floor; and listened in tremulous awe and
+reverence sometimes to those often-repeated words, the burden of Mrs.
+Catherine's anxiety: "Isabel Balfour's one son--that might have been
+_your_ firstborn, Sholto Douglas!" But Jacky, with a sentiment of honor
+peculiar to herself, kept her knowledge of Mrs. Catherine's trouble,
+jealously within her own mind, and in the intervals of her heterogeneous
+occupations, and no less heterogeneous studies, wove dreams of that
+young Laird of Strathoran, over whom Mrs. Catherine prayed and
+mourned--and creating for his especial service, some such wondrous
+vassal as the Genii of Aladdin, conjured Sholto Douglas back to life and
+lands again, and made the prodigal his heir and son.
+
+Little Bessie, Alice Aytoun's maid, did not know what to make of that
+strange, thin, angular girl, with her dark keen face, and eccentric
+motions, and singular language. Bessie, plump, rosy and good-humored,
+looked on in wondering silence as Jacky sat on the carpet in the
+library, bent almost double over some mighty old volume from those heavy
+and well-filled shelves--was inclined to laugh sometimes, yet checking
+herself in mysterious reverence, revolved in her mind the possibility
+of Mrs. Catherine's frequent epithet "you elf"--having in it some shadow
+of truth. Bessie had read fairy tales in her day, and knew that in these
+authentic histories there were such things as changelings--could this
+strange Jacky be one? The flying footsteps, and bold leaps and
+climbings, which Bessie did not venture to emulate, gave some color to
+the supposition, so did these out-of-the-way studies and singular
+expressions; but Jacky withal was not malicious, nor evil-tempered, and
+Bessie paused before condemning her. On consulting Johnnie Halflin on
+the subject, she found him as much puzzled as herself.
+
+"For ye see," said Johnnie, "she was never at the schule--and look till
+her reading! I was three--four year at it mysel, the haill winter; for
+ye ken in this part, Bessie, it's no' like a toun--there's the beasts to
+herd all the summer and other turns, till the shearing's by; but I wad
+rather hae a day's kemping with that illwilly nowt that winna bide out
+o' the corn, than sit down to the books wi' Jacky. She kens best herself
+where she learnt it."
+
+"And look how she speaks," ejaculated Bessie.
+
+"Speaks! ye have not heard her get to her English--it's like listening
+to the leddies. No Mrs. Catherine ye see, for one canna think what words
+_she_ says--ye just ken when ye hear her, that ye maun do what ye're
+bidden in a moment; but Jacky! ye would think she got it a' out of
+books--whiles, when ye anger her--"
+
+"Eh, Johnnie! yonder she is, coming fleeing down the hill," cried little
+Bessie in alarm, as a flying figure paused on a ridge of the steep
+eminence above them, and drew itself back for a final race to the
+bottom. "Look! ye would think she never touched the ground."
+
+"Whist, whist," said Johnnie, apprehensively, "she can hear ony sound
+about the place, as quick as Oscar, and Oscar's the best watch in the
+parish--be quiet, Bessie."
+
+The youthful gossips were standing, during their gloaming hour of
+leisure, at the back of a knot of outhouses, barns, and stables, and
+Jacky came sweeping down upon them out of breath.
+
+"Are you there, Johnnie Halflin? is that you, Bessie? Has my mother been
+in the barn yet?--whisht, there she's speaking."
+
+"No, it's Jean," said the lad; "the cow's better, and Jean said she
+would never let on there had been onything the matter wi't, or else the
+puir beast would be killed wi' physic. Ye needna tell on her, Jacky--ye
+wadna like to harm a bonnie cow like yon, yoursel."
+
+"And we'll no' tell on you," added Bessie.
+
+"I'm no caring," was the quick response, "whether ye tell on me or
+no--only if you do, Bessie, I'll never be friends with ye again; and if
+you do, Johnnie, ye'll catch grief. Guess where I've been."
+
+"Scooring ower the hills on a heather besom," said Johnnie, "seeking the
+fairies--they say ye're one yoursel."
+
+A sweep of Jacky's energetic arm sent Johnnie staggering down the path.
+
+"I have been down at Robert Melder's mill, and there's a bairn there--a
+little girl--Bessie, ye never saw the like of it!"
+
+"Is't a' dressed in green, and riding on a white powny?" said Mrs.
+Catherine's youthful servingman, returning to the charge.
+
+"Ye're a fuil," retorted Jacky, flushing indignantly, "how do the like
+of you ken what's true and what's a fable? There was a lady once, that
+led a lion in her hand--_you_ dinna ken what that means--and if there
+were gentle spirits lang syne in the air, what do you ken about them?
+Bessie, come with me the morn, and see the little bairn. I like to hear
+her speak; she says words like what you hear in dreams."
+
+Jacky's companions indulged in a smothered laugh.
+
+"Has she wings?" asked the lad.
+
+"I will throw ye into the Oran, Johnnie Halflin," cried Jacky, in wrath;
+"if ye do not hold your peace in a minute. Miss Anne saved her life, and
+she speaks a strange language that naebody kens; and she's from a
+strange country; and she's like--"
+
+"Oh, I saw her mysel," interrupted Johnnie, "a bit wee smout, wi' her
+frock burning--saved her life! how grand we're speaking! I could have
+done't mysel, a' that Miss Anne did, and made nae work about it--only I
+had Merkland's horse to haud."
+
+"I have seen a face like it," said Jacky, thoughtfully, "a' but the
+eyes."
+
+"Eh, and isna Mr. Ross a fine young gentleman?" said little Bessie.
+Bessie was glad to seize upon the first tangible point.
+
+"How would ye like to bide constant in Strathoran, Bessie," said Johnnie
+Halflin, "down bye at Merkland? Eh, disna Mr. Lewis gie weary looks up
+at the easter tower?"
+
+Bessie bridled, and drew herself up with pleased consciousness, as her
+mistress's representative.
+
+"I wonder at ye, Johnnie! how can ye speak such nonsense?"
+
+"Is't Miss Aytoun Mr. Lewis looks up for?" inquired Jacky.
+
+Her companions answered with a laugh.
+
+"I think," said the boy, "for my ain part, that there's not a young
+leddy in a' Strathoran like Miss Aytoun. She's out-o'-sight bonnier than
+Miss Anne."
+
+Jacky pushed him indignantly away.
+
+"A fine judge you are. Like a big turnip your ain sel. A clumsy Swede,
+like what they give to the kye. But, Bessie, do you think Mr. Lewis is
+in--" Jacky hesitated, her own singular romance making it sacrilege to
+speak the usual word in presence of those ruder comrades: "do ye think
+Mr. Lewis _likes_ Miss Alice? he's no courting her?"
+
+Bessie smiled, blushed, and looked dignified.
+
+"O, Jacky, how do I ken?"
+
+"Does Miss Alice like _him_?"
+
+"Jacky, what a question! Miss Alice disna tell me."
+
+Jacky looked at her inquisitively, and finishing her share of the
+conversation in her own abrupt fashion, shot into the byre to see the
+ailing cow, from whence she soon after stole into the Tower, where an
+irksome hour of compulsory stocking-knitting, in the comfortable
+housekeeper's-room of Mrs. Euphan Morison, awaited Mrs. Euphan's
+reluctant daughter. The room was a very cosy room in all things, but its
+disagreeable odor of dried and drying herbs; and Jacky, after a reproof
+from her mother, so habitual that it had sunk into a formula, took her
+customary seat and work. Bessie joined her, by-and-bye, with some little
+piece of sewing that she had to do for Miss Aytoun, and Johnnie Halflin,
+less dignified, betook himself to the kitchen fire, to read, or joke, or
+doze the evening out.
+
+The time drew near when Mrs. Catherine's doubts concerning Archibald
+Sutherland were to be solved. The strong old lady grew nervous on these
+dim mornings, and opened her letter-bag with a tremor in her hand; but
+when the latest day had come, there was still no letter from Paris.
+Impatiently she tossed them out. There were two or three letters of
+applicants for her vacant farm, the closely-written sheet of home-news
+for Alice, business-notes of various kinds, but nothing from the
+prodigal, whose interests lay so near her heart. She lifted them all
+separately again, turned out the bag--in vain. Her clear eye had made no
+blunder in its first quick investigation. Mrs. Catherine's brow
+darkened. Alice hardly dared to approach timidly, and withdraw her own
+letter from the little heap. Not that the face of her kinswoman
+expressed anger, but it bore the impress of some unknown mental
+struggle, which Alice, in the serene light of her girlish happiness, did
+not even know by name.
+
+So Alice stole up stairs to the fireside of her bright dressing-room, to
+read the long mother's letter, overflowing with tender counsel and
+affection, and to weave fair dreams--dreams of joy and honor to that
+gentle mother, and all things pleasant and prosperous to James--round
+one unacknowledged centre of her own. Pleasant are those bright
+dream-mists of youthful reverie, with their vague fairy-land of
+gladness--pleasant to weave their tinted web, indefinitely rich and
+glorious, over that universe of golden air, with its long withdrawing
+vistas--the wealthy future of youth.
+
+But Mrs. Catherine sat still alone, her head bent forward, her keen eyes
+looking into the blank depths of a mirror on the wall, as though, like
+the hapless lady in the tale, she could read the wished-for tidings
+there. The door opened slowly. Jacky, with some strange intuitive
+knowledge of her mistress's anxiety, had been on the outlook from the
+window of the west room, and had now glided down stairs to report. Mrs.
+Catherine raised her head sharply as the girl's prefatory "If you
+please!" fell on her ear.
+
+"What ist', you elf?"
+
+"If you please," continued Jacky, "it's Mr. Ferguson, the Strathoran
+factor, gallopping up the waterside like to break his neck!"
+
+Mrs. Catherine started to her feet.
+
+"Take him to the library--I will be down myself in a moment. Are you
+lingering, you fairy? Away with you!"
+
+Jacky vanished, and Mrs. Catherine walked hastily through the room.
+
+"He will have gotten tidings!" And then she was still for a moment, in
+communion with One mightier than man, nerving herself for the "tidings,"
+whatever they might be.
+
+Jacky stood at the open door as Mr. Ferguson gallopped up, but he did
+notice the unusual haste with which he was hurried into the library. A
+cold dew was on his honest forehead; regret and grief were in his kindly
+heart; the familiar ordinary things about him bore a strange look of
+change. The difference was in his own agitated eyes, but he did not
+think of that. Mrs. Catherine stood before him, calm and stern, in the
+library.
+
+"Mr. Ferguson, you have gotten tidings?"
+
+The firm, strong figure reeled in Mr. Ferguson's dizzy eyes.
+
+"Mr. Ferguson, you are troubled. Has the prodigal done his worst? Sit
+down and calm yourself. I am waiting to hear?"
+
+The factor sat down. Mrs. Catherine did not, but, clasping her hands
+tightly together, stood before him and waited.
+
+"I have bad news, Mrs. Catherine," said Mr. Ferguson; "worse news, a
+hundred times, than ever I suspected--than ever you could expect.
+Strathoran is fallen--ruined! No hope--no possibility of saving him! It
+is all over!" And the strong man groaned.
+
+"How and wherefore?" said Mrs. Catherine, sternly.
+
+"He has sold his estate--parted with his home and his land to some
+titled sharper in Paris. Sold! he has done worse--still more
+dishonorable and fatal than that, he has _gambled_ it away; what his
+father spent years to redeem, and set free _for him_, he has staked on
+the chances of a game. Bear with me, Mrs. Catherine, if I speak
+bitterly. The young man has disappointed all my hopes--ruined
+himself--what will become of him?"
+
+Mrs. Catherine stood with her head bowed down, but otherwise firmly
+erect, and silent.
+
+"What will he do?" repeated the distressed factor, "what can he do? land
+and name, fortune and character, all lost. What has he left, as he
+says, but despair--with his prospects too, his fair beginning. O, it is
+enough to make a man distracted! What have they done, that unhappy race,
+that they should be constantly thus--father and son, a wise man and a
+prodigal, the one wasting his substance and his inheritance, the other
+denying himself the lawful pleasures of a just life to win it back
+again."
+
+"Comfort yourself, Robert Ferguson," said Mrs. Catherine, bitterly, as
+drawing forward a chair with emphatic rapidity, she seated herself at
+the table, "there will be no son of the name again to waste years in
+building up the house of Strathoran: their history has come to an
+end--fitly ended in a rioter and a prodigal."
+
+The factor looked up deprecatingly, the very words which his excitement
+brought to his own lips, sounding harsh from another's.
+
+"Mrs. Catherine, Mr. Archibald is young. When other lads were leaving
+school or entering college, he was launched upon the world his own
+master, with a great income and a large estate.--You know how easily the
+light spirit of youth is moved, but you cannot know how the way of a
+young man is hedged in with temptations--Mrs. Catherine!" the factor
+raised his hand in appeal.
+
+"Speak not to me," said Mrs. Catherine, "I know! yes truly, I know more
+than you think, or give me credit for. Temptations! and what is
+obedience that has never been tried, or strength that has not been
+exercised in needful resistance? I bid ye listen to me, Robert
+Ferguson--was there not a test appointed in Eden? and would you set
+youself to say that the fool of a woman (that I should say so, who am of
+her lineage and blood!) might be justified for her ill-doing, because
+the fruit hung fair upon the tree, and tempted the wandering eye of her?
+Think better of my judgment and bring no such pleas to me."
+
+"What can I bring? What can I say?" said Mr. Ferguson, in a low voice.
+"Is he to be left to live or die, as he best can, in yon strange
+country? Are we to let him sink into a professional gamester, like the
+men who have ruined him? I speak wildly.--He would never do that. I
+myself must seek, in some other place, a livelihood for my family; and I
+will get it; for my work is clear before me, and it is known that I can
+do what I undertake; but for him, Mrs. Catherine, with no friend in this
+wide world but yourself, who can give him efficient help--with not an
+acre but these poor lands of Loelyin and Lochend, which are still
+entailed; and, worse than all that, with his best years lost, his
+principles unsettled, and a stain upon his name--what is to become of
+him?"
+
+"He will drink the beverage he has brewed," said Mrs. Catherine,
+harshly. "He will have the reward of the waster, as I have told you
+before now. Let him take his wages--let him want now, as he has sinfully
+wasted. It is his righteous hire and reward."
+
+"And you can see that, can think of that, and not stretch out a hand to
+him?" cried the factor, nervously, as he rose from his chair. "Except my
+hand and my head, Mrs. Catherine Douglas, I have no inheritance; and
+your estate yields gold to you, greater every year; but, before I see
+want come to Strathoran's son, I will labor night and day. The
+professions are open to him yet.--His mother's uncle was a Lord of
+Session; his father's cousin was the greatest physician in Edinburgh. I
+bid you good morning, Mrs. Catherine. I have to write to Mr. Archibald,
+without loss of time."
+
+"Sit down upon your seat, this moment," said Mrs. Catherine,
+authoritatively, "and do not speak to me like a fool, Robert Ferguson.
+Let me hear Archie Sutherland's story, the worst and the best of it; and
+spend a pound of your own siller on the rioter, at your peril! As if I
+did not know one lad at the college was enough for any man. Sit down
+upon your seat, and tell me the whole story, as I bid you, this moment;
+or I vow to you, that your young advocate, if he had his gown the morn,
+shall get no pleas of mine!"
+
+Mr. Ferguson sat down, well pleased, and taking out a letter, laid it
+silently before Mrs. Catherine. The letter was long, blurred, uneven,
+and written, as it seemed, in hurried intervals, with breaks and
+incoherent dashes of the pen between. It was not either very clear or
+very coherent; but it told how rent and distracted the writer's heart
+and spirit were, and what a ceaseless struggle raged and contended
+there. The large soft folds of Mrs. Catherine's shawl shook as if a wind
+had stirred them, but she did not speak; the moisture gathered thick
+beneath her large eyelid, but was not shed, for Mrs. Catherine was not
+given to tears. At last she closed the letter carefully, occupying much
+more time in the operation than was necessary, and endeavored to assume
+her former caustic tone to hide her graver emotions. "A fine story to
+come to a gentlewoman withal! well, Mr. Ferguson, and what is it your
+purpose that I should do for your rioter?"
+
+"I do not know--I have not been able to think," said the factor, himself
+moved even to weeping: "that something must be done, and that
+immediately, is clear. If I had not been coming to you for assistance,
+Mrs. Catherine, I should have come for advice, for how to proceed I
+cannot see."
+
+There was a considerable pause--at length, Mrs. Catherine started from
+her seat and resumed her quick pacing of the room.
+
+"Wherefore are we losing time--send a message home, to Woodsmuir to bid
+them put up a change of apparel for you; ride into Portoran and get what
+siller will be needful--do not be scrupulous--and go your ways this very
+day, or, if it be too far spent, at the latest the morn, to the
+prodigal. I would go myself, but the witless youth, as I see by his
+letter, is feared for me, and you can maybe travel with less delay.
+Bring him home. Strathoran can shelter him no longer, but the
+dwelling-place of Sholto Douglas can never be closed upon Isabel
+Balfour's son. I say to you, lose no time, Robert Ferguson." Mrs.
+Catherine rang the bell energetically. "Write to your wife about the
+needful raiment. Archie Sutherland has slept in young Robert's cradle.
+She will not grudge the trouble."
+
+Mr. Ferguson did not wait to reflect, but with all speed, drew paper and
+ink towards him and began to write.
+
+"Let Andrew or Johnnie be ready in a moment to ride to Woodsmuir," said
+Mrs. Catherine, as Jacky appeared at the door; "and tell your mother to
+send in refreshments for Mr. Ferguson. Begone, you imp--what are you
+waiting for?"
+
+"If you please," said Jacky, "it's Mr. Foreman himsel in the gig--will I
+bring him in?" and, without waiting for an answer, the girl disappeared.
+
+"Mr. Foreman himself," repeated Mrs. Catherine. "What new trouble is
+coming now?--they are ever in troops."
+
+Mr. Ferguson raised his head uneasily and paused in his writing. The
+excited curiosity of both suggesting some further aggravation of the
+great misfortunes they already knew.
+
+Mr. Foreman entered the room gravely, and with care in his face--greeted
+Mrs. Catherine in silence, and starting, when he saw Mr. Ferguson,
+asked; "It is true, then?"
+
+"True?--Ay, beyond doubt or hoping," said Mrs. Catherine, bitterly. "The
+prodigal has made an end of his house and name. I was right, Mr.
+Foreman, and you were wrong. The hairy fool had been sent on no less an
+errand than to see the value of the prey. Grant me patience!--how am I
+to see daily before me, some evil animal, such as could herd with cattle
+like you, reigning in the house of the Sutherlands?"
+
+"How have you heard, Mr. Foreman?" said the factor, anxiously. "Has Mr.
+Archibald written to you himself?"
+
+"No," said Mr. Foreman, "I have got my information from a most
+disagreeable source. I received a letter to-day from the solicitors of
+Lord Gillravidge, touching the conveyance of the property. Have you the
+intelligence direct from Mr. Sutherland? I came up immediately to let
+Mrs. Catherine know."
+
+"I have a letter," said Mr. Ferguson. "It is indeed all over. He has
+lost everything except the entailed lands of Loelyin and Lochend, and
+the farm of Woodsmuir, upon which my own house stands, and it, you know,
+is mortgaged to its full value. All the rest is gone. Mr. Archibald is
+ruined."
+
+There was a pause again, broken only by the sound of Mrs. Catherine's
+footsteps, as she walked heavily through the room.--These grave, kind
+men, Archibald Sutherland's factor and agent, who had known him all his
+life, were almost as deeply affected with his sin and misfortune as
+though he had been an erring son. Mr. Foreman broke the silence by
+asking:
+
+"What do you intend to do?"
+
+"Mrs. Catherine advises me to start immediately for Paris," said Mr.
+Ferguson. "We all of us know how bitterly Mr. Archibald will reproach
+himself, now that all self-reproach is unavailing. I will endeavor to
+bring him home--to the Tower, I mean; and then--I do not well know what
+we are to do. But we must try to rouse his mind (it is a vigorous one,
+if it were but in a purer atmosphere,) to shape out for itself another
+course. I was about to ride into Portoran to make immediate preparation
+for my journey."
+
+"Your letter, Mr. Ferguson," said Mrs. Catherine, as Jacky again
+appeared at the door. "Let Andrew--is it Andrew?--lose no time! Here,
+you elf! Have you anything else to advise, Mr. Foreman? I myself would
+start in a moment, but that I think Mr. Ferguson would do it better. The
+lad's spirit is broken, doubtless, and I might be over harsh upon him.
+Give me Archie's letter."
+
+Mrs. Catherine's large grey eyelid swelled full again, and she seated
+herself at the table.
+
+"I have nothing else to advise," said Mr. Foreman, abstractedly. "I
+think it is very wise, and you should start at once, Mr. Ferguson.
+But--" The lawyer paused. "Is it not possible to do anything? Could no
+compromise be made? Better mortgage the land (it was mortgaged heavily
+enough in his grandfather's time--I remember how old Strathoran was
+hampered by paying them off,) than suffer it to pass altogether out of
+his hands. Could nothing be done? Mrs. Catherine, if such an arrangement
+were possible, would you not lend your assistance?"
+
+Mrs. Catherine raised her eyes from the letter.
+
+"To what end or purpose? That he might have the freedom of losing the
+land again, if it were won back to him by the spending of other folks'
+substance? George Foreman, it is not like your wisdom to think of such a
+thing. A penniless laird--a shadow, and no substance--with a false rank
+to keep up, and nothing coming in to keep it up withal? I will not hear
+of it! Gentlemen, I have made up my mind; out of yon hot unnatural air
+of artificial ill, the lad must come down to the cold blast of poverty,
+if he is ever to be anything but a silken fule, spending gear unjustly
+gotten, in an unlawful way. I say I will have no hand in giving back
+plenty and ease to Archie Sutherland, till he has righteously wrought
+and struggled for the same. Bring him back to my house, Robert
+Ferguson. He has lost the home and the lands of his fathers. Let him see
+them in the hands of an alien, and then let him gird his loins to a
+right warfare, and win them back again. With God's blessing, and man's
+labor, there is nought in this world impossible. I hope to live to see
+him win back his possessions, as I have seen him lose them. If he does
+not, he deserves them not."
+
+"Write to him so," said Mr. Ferguson, eagerly. "It is the spur he needs.
+Let me have a letter, so hopeful and encouraging, to carry with me, Mrs.
+Catherine. Mere reproach would do evil, and not good. You are perfectly
+right. A struggle--a warfare--that is the true prescription. Write to
+Mr. Archibald yourself--it will have more effect than anything I can
+say."
+
+Mr. Foreman sighed, and felt almost inclined to withdraw his adherence
+from those reformers who aim at the abolition of entails. At length, and
+slowly, he signified his consent.
+
+"Yes--yes: Mrs. Catherine is right. I believe it is the wisest way.
+But--"
+
+Mr. Foreman paused again. A strange master in Strathoran--the kindly
+union of the country broken in upon by one who, if they judged rightly,
+had done grievous ill to Archibald Sutherland. A painful film came over
+the lawyer's eyes. It seemed like treason to the trust reposed in him by
+"Old Strathoran" thus to suffer his son's downfall.
+
+"You are losing time," said Mrs. Catherine. "Robert Ferguson, the day is
+wearing on. Ye will not be able to leave Portoran the night. Start with
+the first coach the morn's morning. Do not tarry a moment. Mind how long
+the days will be to a spirit in despair; and come to me when you are
+returning from Portoran if there is time. I will write to the unhappy
+lad."
+
+Thus dismissed, both gentlemen took their leave, the factor receiving a
+parting adjuration to "take sufficient siller--be not scrimpit. Ye will
+have many charges in so long a journey; and, as I have said, Robert
+Ferguson, lay out a pound of your own siller upon this dyvour at your
+proper peril! I will visit your iniquity upon the head of your young
+advocate, if ye venture to do such a thing.--Mind!"
+
+Mrs. Catherine seated herself at her library table as the factor and the
+lawyer rode away together, and began to write to Archibald Sutherland--a
+hurried letter, swiftly written. It ran thus:
+
+     "I have heard of your transgression and calamity, Archibald
+     Sutherland, and write as I need not tell you, in sore grief.
+     Nevertheless, I have neither time nor leisure to record my
+     lamentations, nor do I think that tears from old e'en--the which
+     are bitter in the shedding--are things to make merchandise of for
+     the mending of young backsliders. At this moment, I have other
+     matters in hand. I see by your letter to Mr. Ferguson (a better man
+     than I fear you will ever be), that you are yourself cast down, and
+     in grief, as it is meet you should be. See that it be for the sin,
+     and not for the mere carnal consequences, and so there will be the
+     better chance for a blessing on your repentance.
+
+     "And boy, rise up and come back to the country that brought you
+     forth, out of that den of sin and iniquity. The house of your
+     fathers is open to you no longer--the house of Sholto Douglas can
+     never be shut upon Isabel Balfour's son. Come back to me--you shall
+     not be my heir, for the lands of my fathers must descend to none
+     that cannot keep them firmly, and guide them well; but whatsoever
+     is needful for you to begin your warfare, lies ready for your
+     claiming. I say your warfare, Archie Sutherland, for I bid you not
+     come home to dally through an idle life or waste more days.--Come
+     home to fight for your possessions back again--come home to strive
+     in every honorable and lawful way to win back the good land you
+     have lost--come home, I say, Archie Sutherland, to redeem your
+     inheritance by honest labor, and establish your house again, as it
+     was established by the first Sutherland that set foot on Oranside.
+     The road is clear before you. You have gotten all the siller wasted
+     now that you can get to waste. I command you, as there is anything
+     in this life you set a value on, to throw these evil things behind
+     you, and gird yourself for a warfare--a warfare that will be
+     neither light nor brief, but that will be--what your past life has
+     not been--just and honorable, a work for a man, not a witless and
+     sinful dalliance for a silly youth, a play for a fevered bairn.
+
+     "I have a burden of years upon me as you know, and may have but a
+     small distance between me and the kirkyard of Strathoran, therefore
+     I lay my charge upon you to be speedy with your labor. My kin and
+     youthful neighbors are round about me, Archie Sutherland, (all but
+     Sholto my one brother, that I left lying in the cold earth of a
+     strange country,) but they are dwelling in silent cities, where no
+     living thing can tarry. Boy! let me see hope breaking upon you,
+     before I lay down my head beside them. My time is short. Turn to
+     this work, Archie Sutherland, that I may carry better tidings with
+     me, to your father and your mother, in the good land where they are
+     resting from their labor. To your warfare I command you, young man,
+     that I may see your prosperity as I have seen your down-come. Come
+     home to the house of your mother's oldest friend, come home without
+     delay (and I charge you that what honor remains to your name may be
+     preserved--to bring home to me that wilful girl, your sister
+     Isabel) to your just work, that I may not go down with a sore heart
+     to my last dwelling-place.
+
+"CATHERINE DOUGLAS."
+
+
+
+Mr. Ferguson returned to the Tower on his way to Woodsmuir, and received
+this letter, with many messages and charges besides, especially
+addressed to Isabel Sutherland, whom Mrs. Catherine, in the excitement
+of her grief for Archibald, had almost forgotten. Mr. Ferguson was to
+leave Portoran with the night-coach for Edinburgh; and, again, the
+perforce quietude of waiting fell upon the aged lady of the Tower.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+Other two weary slow-paced weeks wore through, before Mrs. Catherine
+heard any further tidings of her prodigal. At last Mr. Ferguson's
+hurried intimation of his arrival in Paris came at once to satisfy and
+to stimulate her anxiety--for Mr. Ferguson's brief epistle said
+emphatically that it was _well_ he had lost no time in setting out upon
+his journey, and that he found "Mr. Archibald" in sorest need of some
+steadfast friend about him. A few days after there came a more explicit
+letter. Mr. Ferguson had found poor Archibald Sutherland in the strong
+grip of despair. Loss of fortune had brought loss of friends--not one of
+all his former guests or flatterers remained to comfort him in his
+poverty; and save for the jealous solicitude with which he guarded his
+sister, Mr. Ferguson believed that his reckless desperation would have
+laid him ere now in the grave of the suicide. But Isabel, wilful,
+impetuous and admired as she was, bound her fierce guardian to his hated
+life--still courted in these gay circles, for the wit and beauty which
+all this burden of calamity could not diminish, the ruined man stalked
+by her side everywhere, like some intruding spectre, casting a blight
+upon the smiles that woke no congenial sunshine in his ghostly face. The
+treachery which he had felt surrounding himself--the warning of Mrs.
+Catherine's letters had awakened him to a wild anxiety for Isabel: he
+could not bear her absence from him. Regardless of sneers and
+inuendos--regardless of contempt and indifference, he followed his
+sister wherever she went, and scowled away from her in his gaunt pride
+and anger, whosoever ventured upon any show of admiration. But no human
+spirit could bear that fierce tension long; and when his factor's home
+face looked in upon him, so clear, upright, and manlike, with all its
+respectful kindliness of sympathy, the heart of Archibald Sutherland
+burst from its compulsory hardihood, and melted into very weakness. None
+knew or could appreciate better than he, the thoroughly honorable
+character of Mr. Ferguson--none better knew the warm kindliness of that
+pleasant home of Woodsmuir, which the factor had left for the
+discomforts of a long journey and a strange country, to aid and succor
+_him_--him, the prodigal, the destroyer of his father's house. Tears,
+strange to the eyes of the broken man, fell copiously over Mrs.
+Catherine's letter--a time of strange incoherence followed, and when Mr.
+Ferguson wrote again, it was from the sick room where Archibald
+Sutherland lay, prostrate in body and mind, in the wild heat of fever,
+struggling for his life.
+
+Mr. Ferguson wrote with unwonted pathos of that strange phantom of
+terror for Isabel, which haunted his patient's mind by night and
+day--the one consistent thread through all that delirious chaos--of how
+the wilful sister in the pride of her wit and beauty heard it first from
+her brother's raving lips with indignant anger, haughtily blaming the
+manly watcher by that brother's bedside whose place she did not offer to
+take; but how, at last, the "weeping blood of woman's breast" was
+reached by that wail of agony, and Isabel gave up her gaieties, and took
+her place in the sick room, soothing the sufferer by her very presence.
+But Mr. Ferguson did not tell, how unweariedly he himself watched by
+that bed of fever, and when doctor and attendant despaired, still hoped
+against hope--nor how, when feeble, and pale, and worn out, the
+convalescent could raise his head again, it was the strong arm of his
+Strathoran factor that held him up--it was the kindly tongue of home
+that gave thanks for his recovery.
+
+But long weeks had lengthened into months during Archibald's illness,
+and the dark short days of December were rising, in their chill
+alternations of frost and rain, upon the northern skies of Strathoran,
+when Mr. Ferguson returned home. He came alone, for Captain Duncombe had
+joined his wife and brother-in-law in Paris, and was to be their escort
+to England. Captain Duncombe had got a considerable accession of
+fortune, by the death of some friend, during the time of Archibald's
+convalescence, and had managed to effect an exchange into a regiment
+stationed near London, whither his wife had no objection to accompany
+him. The saturnine Captain was something touched by his hapless
+brother-in-law's emaciated appearance, and had no objection to travel
+leisurely home for his convenience, though protesting many times, with
+unnecessary fervor, that, when once at home, he could do nothing for
+him; and Mr. Ferguson, whose own affairs imperatively called for his
+presence, and whose strength had been wasted by long confinement,
+reluctantly left his patient, and returned to Strathoran alone.
+
+In the meantime, changes had taken place there: bevies of English
+sportsmen had arrived with Lord Gillravidge at his newly acquired
+property--gamekeepers and grooms, a whole village full, overbrimmed its
+quiet precincts. Rough Ralph Falconer, condescendingly noticed at first,
+in acknowledgment of his kindred pursuits, was shrinking from the
+neighborhood already fairly over-crowed and put down, endeavoring to
+hide his mortification under bitter laughter. Bitterly upon them,
+"pilgarlic dandies," "hairy fuils," "idle cattle," poured the full flood
+of Mrs. Catherine's derision. The countryside was stirred with unwonted
+excitement. An Englishman, alien to their blood, and contemptuous of
+their Church--the supplanter, besides, of an old and long established
+family, in a district peculiarly tenacious of hereditary loves and
+hatreds,--the new Lord of Strathoran had all the strongest feelings of
+his neighbors arrayed against him.
+
+The new Lord of Strathoran was supremely indifferent. The countryside
+and its likings and dislikings, were not of the remotest consequence to
+him.
+
+And little Alice Aytoun was beginning to receive gentle and tender hints
+from Edinburgh, that the original limits proposed for her visit, had
+been considerably overpassed. She had forgotten, in the unconscious
+selfishness of a light heart, how lonely the Edinburgh parlor would be,
+during the long days which her mother spent there alone--for Alice's
+_entree_ into the festivities and party-givings of that quiet district,
+which her inexperience called "the world," had been a triumph--and with
+so much homage laid at her little feet, and so much girlish delight and
+laughing wonder, in receiving that strange, new tribute of admiration,
+it was scarcely wonderful that the Edinburgh parlor, with its quiet
+dwelling at home, and brief domestic circle, seemed almost sombre in the
+contrast. It was arranged, however, that Alice should return home after
+the new year, and, her conscience eased of some compunctions it had,
+respecting neglect of her mother, Alice looked forward to the especial
+merry-makings of that blythe season with a light heart.
+
+Meanwhile, Anne Ross's ingenuity was vainly exercised in devising
+expedients to occupy her brother, and divert him from those frequent
+visits which it had become his pleasure to pay at the Tower. Lewis found
+numberless errands--alleged consultations with Mrs. Catherine, at which
+his mother fumed silently in sullen dignity--pretences for advising with
+the shrewd factotum of Mrs. Catherine's finely-cultivated home-farm,
+concerning those fields immediately adjoining Merkland which Mr. Coulter
+advised, putting on some scientific regimen--or even a rare fungus, or
+delicate moss to show to Miss Aytoun, who began to be interested in that
+beautiful science of botany which Lewis himself had taken up so
+suddenly.
+
+These visits, and the too certain end to which they tended, pained Anne
+deeply, overpowered her, indeed, sometimes with sick bewilderment, the
+more that in the present state of matters, she was perfectly powerless.
+Any step of her's might precipitate Lewis, so jealously alive to
+interference as he was, and make that certain, which was now only feared
+and deprecated, so Anne, like her friend in the Tower, had to wait
+perforce for the regular course of events, and with an anxiety still
+more intense and painful than Mrs. Catherine's. What but woe and mishap
+could come from this unhappy intercourse? What but pain and
+disappointment and sorrow to these two youthful hearts.
+
+Anne could perceive that it annoyed her step-mother; that Mrs. Ross,
+with her overweening partiality for, and pride in her only son, was
+inclined to take his attention to Alice Aytoun as a personal slight and
+injury to herself. But it was not because a connection so terrible
+existed between the families already--Alice had no friends to elevate
+the standing, nor portion to increase the wealth of her future partner,
+and therefore Mrs. Ross frowned upon the growing devotion of Lewis, and
+already, in many a peevish altercation and sarcastic allusion, had
+brought in Alice Aytoun's name--fanning thereby the flame which she
+hoped to extinguish.
+
+And during these months, the little girl, so strangely brought to Oran
+Mill, was learning the tongue of her new home rapidly. A strange
+junction, the liquid Spanish, which fell on Jacky's visionary ear so
+pleasantly, "like the words folk hear in dreams," made, mingled with
+these soft syllables of the homely, Scottish tongue, broken from what
+harshness soever might originally be in them, by the child's voice of
+lisping music. Mrs. Melder had been told to call her Lilias, and
+affection had already contracted the name into the familiar diminutive
+of "Lilie." A strange exotic lily the child seemed with her small, pale
+features and olive-tinted cheek, and flood of dusky silken hair, and she
+had become already a wonder in the parish.
+
+Mrs. Coulter sent for the miller's wife on some small pretext of
+business, that she might see her little lodger, and Lilie returned from
+Harrows laden with fruit, and toys, and sweetmeats, and leaving little
+Harry Coulter, the agriculturist's Benjamin, struggling with desperate
+energy to follow her, and hopelessly in love. Lilie had even been taken
+to the Tower, and half smothered with caresses from Alice, had received
+from Mrs. Catherine strange looks of musing melancholy, and one abrupt
+expression of wonder--
+
+"Who was she like?"
+
+Miss Falconer herself had gallopped a couple of miles out of her way,
+and stopped at the Mill, with her horse in a foam, to make acquaintance
+with the little Donna. Jacky had constituted herself her bodyguard and
+attendant, and carried her off whole days on solitary rambles among the
+hills. There were few of all the circle round who were not interested in
+the stranger child.
+
+But no one received so great a share of Lilie's regard, or was so
+powerfully attracted towards her, as Anne Ross. There was a new pleasure
+now in the long walks, which had a half hour's playful intercourse with
+Lilie to make them cheerful; and Anne again and again repeated her
+inquiries concerning the stranger who had left the child with Mrs.
+Melder, without however eliciting anything new.
+
+"She wasna put on like a lady," repeated the miller's wife. "My ain
+muckle shawl, wi' the border, was worth twa o' the ain she had on, and
+naething but a printed goun. But I have seen folk in silks and satins,
+Miss Anne, that had a commoner look--no that she was bonnie--but you saw
+her yoursel."
+
+"Yes," said Anne; "she was a very remarkable looking person."
+
+"Na' but the eyes of her! They made me that I near sat down and
+fainted--they had sic a wistful, murning look in them. The bairn's are
+no unlike. Haud up your head, Lilie, my lamb--only it wad tak watching
+and sorrow, if I'm no far mistaken, to gie her yon look. Waes me, Miss
+Anne! it spoke o' a sair heart!"
+
+"But Lilie's are bright and happy," said Anne, drawing the child closer
+to her, and looking affectionately upon the little face, from which
+shone eyes deep enough in their liquid darkness to mirror forth great
+sorrows. "We must not let grief come near Lilie."
+
+"Lilie blythe--blythe?" said the child, clinging to her side. "Lilie no
+like happy. Blythe is bonnier! Lilie go the morn--up--up!"
+
+"To the hills, Lilie?"
+
+"Up--up!" said the child, imitating with feet and hands the motions of
+climbing. "Lilie look away far--at the water."
+
+"At the Oran, Lilie?"
+
+"Where he go to?" asked Lilie, pointing through the window to the brown,
+foaming water--"rinning fast? Where he go to?"
+
+"To the sea, Lilie," said Anne.
+
+"Yes--yes," said the child. "Lilie once sail upon the sea; row--row--in
+a big boat. Lilie likes to look at it."
+
+"Were you alone, Lilie?" said Anne. "Was no one with you?"
+
+The child did not understand.
+
+"A big boat--big--big--bigger than yon!" Lilie had seen Mrs. Catherine's
+little vessel on the Oran, and had been greatly interested in it. "Lilie
+ran about," and the child eked out her slender vocabulary with the
+universal language of signs, "and saw the sea; but the water did not
+come upon Lilie."
+
+"And was there no one to take care of Lilie?" said Anne.--"No one to put
+on her little frock, and to comb these pretty curls?"
+
+The child looked up thoughtfully for a moment, and then, hiding her face
+in Anne's lap, burst out into a passion of tears, moaning out in her own
+language a lamentation over her "good nurse, her Juana," with all the
+inconsolable vehemence of childhood.
+
+"She has done that before," said Mrs. Melder. "Can ye make onything o'
+the words, Miss Anne? I hae gotten to ken the sound o' them, though
+neither Robert nor me can make ony sense o' the outlandish tongue.
+Lilie, my lamb, whisht, like a guid bairn, and dry your eyes. See what a
+bonnie book Miss Anne has brocht ye, and pictures in't!
+
+"There's mony o' the neighbors wonder at us," continued Mrs. Melder, as
+the child, when its fit of weeping was over, clambered up upon the table
+in the window, and sat there, in enjoyment of the picture-book, "for
+taking a bairn we ken naething about; and ye may think it foolish too,
+Miss Anne. But the house was waesome wi' Robert out a' day, and the bit
+thing had a pitiful look wi't, and the leddy--for she bid to be a leddy,
+though she was plain enough put on--pleaded wi' me in sic a way that I
+couldna withstand it; and we're clar o' a' loss, wi' the siller being in
+Mr. Foreman's hand; and the bairn--puir wee desolate thing, cast off by
+its ain bluid--is a fine bairn, now that she's learning to speak in a
+civilized tongue. My ain Bell, if the Almighty had spared her, would hae
+been about Lilie's age. Eh, Miss Anne! a young lady like you canna ken
+what a sore dispensation that was! But we maun hae our ain way."
+
+"And do you think the lady could be Lilie's mother?" said Anne, after a
+pause.
+
+"It's hard to say," said Mrs. Melder; "but I am maistly inclined to
+think no, Miss Anne, for ye see the bairn disna greet after her the way
+she did the now, when ye asked her wha came hame wi' her; and the leddy
+hersel, though she beggit me to be careful o' the bairn, did not keep
+her in her sight till the last moment, as a mother would have done; and
+when she went by the Mill, Robert says--for he was watching--that she
+never stopped to look back; sae I think she may have been a friend
+further off, Miss Anne, but she couldna be Lilie's mother."
+
+"Strange!" said Anne, "that any friend, above all a mother should send
+away a child so interesting!"
+
+"Ay, Miss Anne," said Mrs. Melder; "but the like o' you disna ken. There
+are bitterer things in this world than even grief.--One canna tell. It
+may be a shame and a disgrace to some decent family, that that wee
+thing, pleasant as she is, has ever drawn breath--and the lady may be
+some kin of the mother's, bringing it away out o' the sight o' kent folk
+and friends. The like of that is ower common. Eh, pity me! there's nae
+counting the wiles o' the enemy! There's Strathoran, ye see, and the
+gentlemen that's in't playing at their cartes and their dice, they tell
+me, on the very Sabbath day itsel! Is't no enough to bring a judgment on
+the country-side? If auld Strathoran--honest man--could but look down
+into his ain house now, I canna think but what it would make his heart
+sair--even _yonder_. He was a guid man, auld Strathoran, though he did
+put Mr. Bairnsfather into the parish."
+
+"Was that wrong, Mrs. Melder?" said Anne.
+
+"The Apostle says we're no to speak evil o' the ruler o' our people,"
+said Mrs. Melder; "but, eh, Miss Anne, he's wersh and unprofitable. When
+I was in my trouble and sorrow (and who can tell how dark the earth is,
+and a'thing in't, when one is bereaved o' their first-born--their only
+lamb!) Robert brought the minister, thinking he could speak a word o'
+comfort to me; and what think ye he said, Miss Anne? No that I was to
+look to my Lord that had gathered my lamb to his ain bosom, out of a'
+the ills o' this world, but that I was to be reasonable and calm, and
+bear the trouble wi' fortitude, because it couldna be helpit. That was
+a' the comfort he had to speak to a distracted woman, whose only bairn
+was in its grave! But he never had ony little ones himsel."
+
+"And you do not come to the Church, now?" said Anne, holding out her
+hand, as Lilie descended from the table, and came to her side again.
+
+"Na; we were once gaun to the Meeting, Robert and me, for the Seceder
+minister preaches guid doctrine, but we couldna think to leave the Kirk.
+My father was an elder for twenty year--sae we aye waited on till Mr.
+Lumsden came to Portoran. Eh, Miss Anne, he's a grand man! They say
+there's no the like o' him in the haill Presbytery!"
+
+"What is this, Lilie?" cried Anne.
+
+Lilie had brought her new "Shorter Catechism," that much-prized
+text-book of Presbyterian Scotland, to point out the lessons which she
+was to repeat to Robert Melder, on the Sabbath afternoon, according to
+the venerable and excellent custom of such religious humble households;
+and insisted upon repeating her former "questions" and the first Psalm
+she had learnt in her new language.
+
+Anne took the book, well pleased, and listened, while Lilie repeated
+that beautiful proposition in which all Scotland for centuries has
+learned to define the chief end of man, and then, with some slight
+stammering and uncertainty, went on:
+
+    "That man hath perfect blessedness,
+     Who walketh not astray."
+
+The first verse was repeated, and Lilie stayed to remember the second.
+
+"Eh," cried Mrs. Melder, "hasna she come uncommon fast on? but I wish ye
+would speak to Jacky Morison, Miss Anne, she's learning the bairn
+nonsense ballants and--"
+
+    "He shall be like a tree that grows,
+     Near planted by a river,"
+
+burst out Lilie triumphantly.
+
+    "Which in his season yields his fruit,
+       And his leaf fadeth never.
+     And all he doth shall prosper well--"
+
+The child paused--accomplished the next three lines with prompting, and
+then made a stop.
+
+"Lilie no mind now--Lilie show you the tree."
+
+Anne suffered herself to be drawn out--the tree which Lilie fancied must
+be the one meant in the Psalm, was an oak which stood upon a swelling
+hillock close by the Oran. When they came near, the child's wandering
+attention was caught by some carving on the rude and gnarled trunk.
+
+"What's that?" she asked.
+
+Anne read it, wonderingly:
+
+             "Norman R. R. Marion L."
+
+Beneath were two longer lines:
+
+    "Like autumn leaves upon the forest ways,
+     The gentle hours fall soft, the brightest days
+             Fade from our sight."
+
+and a date. The carvings were near the root, and might have been done by
+some one sitting on the grassy bank below. Anne had some difficulty in
+deciphering them, and when she had led her little charge home, returned
+alone to trace the moss-grown characters again. The date was seventeen
+years before--Norman R. R. Could it be possible that some other bore
+that name--or was it indeed a record of some bygone pleasant musing of
+her unhappy brother's, before name, and fame, and fortune were lost in
+that dark crime--before the mark of Cain was sealed upon his brow.
+
+And were there yet greater depths in this calamity than she knew, and
+more sufferers; the Marion who shared his happier thoughts--who was she?
+or how had Norman's blight, so much more dreadful than death, fallen
+upon her?
+
+The dusky December weeks passed on, and, on the last night of the year,
+a tall man, closely enveloped in a plaid, walked softly up the dark
+avenue towards the house of Strathoran. He seemed to know its turns and
+windings well, as keeping under covert of the thickest trees, he
+hastily approached the house;--once near it, he crossed the path quickly
+to gain the obscurity of its shadow, and then walked round it several
+times without manifesting any desire of entering. It was a very dreary
+night--the ground was thoroughly soaked with recent rains, and heavy
+clouds drifted in dark masses over the sky, of whose dull leaden
+surface, and wading afflicted moon you could see occasional glimpses, as
+these gloomy hosts of vapors were parted by the wind. A fitful glance of
+the moon fell now and then upon the stranger's face. It was pale and
+resolute, and rigid, like the face of one undergoing some terrible
+surgical operation, to endure which manfully his every nerve was
+strained. He paused at last opposite a brilliant window, and retreating
+backward, raised himself by aid of a tree, so that he could look in.
+Through the closed curtains he could see a party of gentlemen sitting at
+their wine--the sound of their laughter, and gay voices, reached him on
+his watch. With keen eyes he surveyed the unconscious revellers, marked
+every face, took in, as it seemed, every particular of the scene, and
+then descending, took his way again through the solitary avenue, and
+turning as before into a side path, reached the highway unseen. Onward
+he went, walking very quickly for full two dreary miles, and arrived at
+last not at any dwelling of man, but at a solitary graveyard, still and
+solemn, lying upon Oranside, in the midst of which rose the ruined walls
+of an ancient chapel, moss-grown, and clad with clinging ivy.--The alarm
+which called forth the parishioners of more southern districts, night
+after night, to watch their dead, had not reached the distant stillness
+of Strathoran, and the stranger entered unmolested and unseen. He
+directed his steps to the chapel, climbed the broken stair, and entered
+the small unroofed apartment, with its ruined walls, and trailing ivy,
+and floor of lettered flags, bearing upon them the names of those who
+slept below--for this was the burial-place of the long-descended
+Sutherlands of Strathoran. Another uncertain glance of the wan moon
+directed him to a marble tablet in the wall, by the side of which he
+stood long in the dreary silence, motionless and still, himself like
+some dark statue, mocking the dead with empty honor. Hugh Sutherland and
+Isabel his wife, lay underneath the watcher's feet; and the son to whom
+they had left so fair a heritage, and who had visited their grave two
+twelvemonths since, bearing a name of universal honor, and looking forth
+upon a smiling future, through natural tears that became him well--stood
+there now, tearless and stern in the thick gloom of night--a houseless,
+joyless man.
+
+"I have obeyed," said Archibald Sutherland, leaning upon the ruined
+wall. "I have returned to see my father's house in the hands of an alien
+to his blood--and now what remains?" His knees were bent upon the stone
+that covered the dust of father and of mother--his brow pressed to the
+tablet that chronicled their names; and the ruined man in his extremity,
+poured out his full heart into the ear of One who heareth always, and
+never more certainly than when the voice of supplication rises to Him
+"out of the depths." "Who shall stand before thee if thou markest
+iniquity? yet is there forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be
+feared, and plenteous redemption."
+
+Yes, _that_ remained--omnipotent, over all, in His tender mercy, the God
+whose plentiful redemption encircles with its arms of divine compassion
+its every returning prodigal--the loving-kindness that turns no
+supplicant away. The sympathy most wonderful and strange of all, which
+"touches"--the heart of the Incarnate God with "a fellow-feeling for our
+infirmities!"--these remained--greater than all sorrows of the earth.
+
+So with less sternness in his pale face, and less despair in his heart,
+Archibald Sutherland retraced his steps, and turned to the humble
+fisher's house far down the Oran, the inhabitants of which had recently
+come to the district, and knew not either the name or the quality of the
+stranger whom they had reluctantly agreed to shelter for the night.
+
+He had hovered that same evening in cover of the darkness, in the
+neighborhood of the Tower--had passed the hospitable walls of Woodsmuir,
+and looked through the bare trees at Merkland; but drawing back in
+painful shame, had not dared to enter, or make himself known to any of
+them all--they all had households, kindred, warm friends about them. He
+only was alone.
+
+The next night, with his plaid wrapped as closely about him as before,
+and serving as a disguise, he passed along Oranside in the darkness,
+turning his steps to the Tower. He could not delay longer--already
+perhaps in the bitter pain of last night's trial, he had delayed too
+long, and in passing those wide-spreading fields and plantations, once
+his own, but in which now the meanest hind dwelling among them had more
+share than he, he felt that last night's trial might be indefinitely
+prolonged. He came to the Tower at last, and found it also gay and full
+of light. The hall-door was open, and within stood a knot of servants.
+The door of Mrs. Euphan Morison's snug room was ajar, and showed Duncan
+from Merkland, and Mr. Coulter's grave man-servant sitting comfortably
+by the fireside, while the Falcon's Craig groom, and Mr. Foreman's lad,
+and one or two younger attendants, stood among Mrs. Catherine's
+maid-servants in the hall listening to the music above.
+
+"Jacky, ye monkey, shut that door," cried Mrs. Euphan Morison, "Idle
+hizzies clavering nonsense, and decent folk like to get their death o'
+cauld. I wad advise ye to tak hame some o' that horehound-balsam wi'
+ye, Duncan--it's uncommon guid for hoarseness. I made it with my ain
+hand."
+
+Jacky darted forward to do her mother's bidding; and Archibald felt the
+girl's keen eye pierce his disguise in a moment.--She paused, looked at
+him. "If ye please, will I tell Mrs. Catherine?"
+
+"Yes--but wait, Jacky, let me go up stairs."
+
+Jacky went gravely forward before him, and drawing his plaid more
+closely over his face, Archibald followed her unobserved.--The girl led
+him to a small apartment which opened into that well-remembered
+drawing-room, and without saying a word, left him there. He sat down and
+waited. Ah! these gay sounds of mirth and music, how bitterly they mock
+sick hearts. A sort of hope had inspired him, as he felt himself once
+more in shelter of these stately walls, but now, within hearing of the
+sounds of pleasure and rejoicing, his heart again sank within him. There
+was no place for him--homeless and hopeless, there. As he listened, a
+simple voice began to sing--words chiming strangely in with his changed
+fortunes.
+
+    "Like autumn leaves upon the forest ways,
+     The gentle hours fall soft, the brightest days
+                 Fade from our sight.
+     A dimness steals upon the earth and heaven,
+                 Blended of gloom and light;
+     Shuts its soft eyelid o'er day's azure levin,
+     And shades with its soft tints the glories of sweet even
+                 To sober-toned night.
+
+    "From his deep cradle the woods among
+       His russet robes waving free,
+     The Oran with his kindly tongue,
+       Is travelling to the sea.
+     He rushes to the ocean old,
+       In sparkling wave and foam,
+     And out into that trackless wold
+       Bears the kind voice of home.
+                 Wayfaring man, far, on the sea
+                 Listen how he calls to thee!
+
+    "Warm household lights are shining out
+       His rugged channel o'er.
+     Ill plants of malice, and guile, and doubts
+       Ne'er blossom on his shore.
+     There is Peace in her matron's gown and hood.
+       Her footsteps never roam,
+     And Hope is in pleasant neighborhood
+       And strength is strongest at home
+                 Thy foot is weary, thy cheek is wan,
+                 Come to thy kindred, wayfaring man
+
+    "Oran's ringing voice he hears,
+       The great sea waves among,
+     To yon far shore the ripple bears
+       The Oran's kindly tongue.
+     Yet he labors on, and travels far,
+       For years of toil must glide,
+     Before he sees the even star
+       Rise calm on Oranside.
+                 Speed thy labor o'er land and sea,
+                 Home and kindred are waiting for thee!
+
+    "The gentle hours fall soft, the brightest days,
+     Like autumn leaves upon the forest ways,
+                 Fade from our sight.
+     And night and day he labors as he can,
+                 Far from home's kindly light.
+     His foot is weary, and his cheek is wan,
+     Ah! pray, young hearts, for the sad wayfaring man
+                 Laboring this night."
+
+The air was very simple beginning and ending in a low pathetic strain,
+and with a quicker measure for the intervening verses--but the music was
+but a soft chiming breath, bearing along the words. Archibald Sutherland
+leaned his head upon his hands, the burden floating dizzily through his
+mind. Alas! for him, beginning his wayfaring so painfully, neither home
+nor kindred waited. He heard a step approach--a hand gently open the
+door of communication, and raised his head, a sad calmness possessing
+him.--Among the gay hearts, divided from him only by that wall, there
+might be some one, whose prayer of gentle pity, would indeed rise for
+the wayfaring man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Anne Ross was seated near Mrs. Catherine's piano when Alice Aytoun took
+her place at it timidly, and placing a sheet of manuscript music before
+her, began her song. Anne started in tremulous wonder as it commenced.
+Most strange to hear these words repeated by a living voice at
+all--stranger still that they should fall from Alice Aytoun's. With
+breathless interest she listened as the lines flowed on. The wayfaring
+man in toil, and danger, and sorrow, hearing in the ripple of the great
+sea, far away in some strange country, the kindly call of the Oran to
+home and kindred. Her cheeks grew pale--her lips quivered. How could
+this be twined into Norman's history?--or was Alice unconsciously
+murmuring out the low, sad prayer of its conclusion for her father's
+murderer?
+
+The tears were swelling in Anne's eyes as the song concluded; and Ralph
+Falconer who stood near had addressed to her some sneering compliment on
+her sensibility, when Jacky stole behind her chair, and whispered
+something in her ear. Anne recollected herself instantly, and,
+approaching Mrs. Catherine, communicated to her Jacky's intelligence.
+Mrs. Catherine started--rose from her seat--wavered a moment, and then
+restraining her emotions, sat resolutely down again.
+
+"See, Anne, there is the key of the little room. Take the dyvour
+there--I will come myself when I can. Tell him that--." Anne turned to
+obey. "And, child,--bid Euphan Morison have a good fire kindled in the
+red room, and tell Andrew he is to hold himself ready to wait on Mr.
+Archibald--and, child--be kindly to the unhappy youth. It behoves me to
+be stern myself, but there is no such bondage upon you."
+
+When Archibald Sutherland lifted his head it was Anne Ross who stood
+before him, her eyes shining wet, her face full of sympathetic sorrow.
+She held out her hand, and advanced towards him.
+
+"Mr. Sutherland--Archibald."
+
+"Anne!" said the broken man. They shook hands; there needed no more
+speech; perfect and cordial sympathy, of no exaggerated sort, but such
+as does sometimes, and should always subsist between those who have
+passed childhood and early youth together, was between them in a moment.
+There was no story told--no compassion claimed; but, in the pressure of
+Anne's hand, and the subdued kindness of her look, the full heart felt
+itself eased, and leaned upon the unexpressed sympathy as with the
+confidence of nearest kindred. There were no words; but Anne knew how
+Archibald's spirit was wading like the moon in clouds and darkness; and
+Archibald felt that Anne, in the confidence of ancient kindness, was
+ready to hope and believe all things for his final deliverance and
+welfare.
+
+"You will not go in," said Anne, gently. "There is a large party, and
+some strangers."
+
+"No--no," said Archibald. "I regret now that I came at all to-night. I
+would be a strange spectre, disturbing your merrymaking, Anne."
+
+"Merrymaking! With some of us, at least, there is not much of that,"
+said Anne. "Lewis is home, Archibald; you must see _him_. But now will
+you come with me to the little room? Mrs. Catherine will come herself
+immediately."
+
+"To the little room?"
+
+"Yes; the house is full, and all the other apartments are occupied,"
+said Anne; "that is all. Mrs. Catherine has been looking for you,
+Archibald."
+
+They left the room together, and, to the great wonder of the congregated
+listeners in the hall, descended the stair, and turned through a dark
+passage to Mrs. Catherine's place of especial retirement--the little
+room. Archibald entered, and Anne, leaving him, hastened to Mrs. Euphan
+Morison's apartment, to convey to her Mrs. Catherine's orders, in
+immediate execution of which a reluctant maid was hurried up stairs.
+
+And Archibald Sutherland seated himself alone, fearing the interview
+which Mrs. Catherine made still more important and solemn by ordaining
+that it should take place _there_. The firm, dark face of Sholto Douglas
+looked down upon him from the wall, and fascinated his restless eyes.
+There seemed a lofty purity of reproof in those fine lineaments, over
+which the pallor of death had fallen, before Mrs. Catherine's only
+brother had told out an equal number of years with himself. Sholto
+Douglas, in his early prime of manhood, laid in a foreign grave, the
+odor of a stainless name, and strong faith, numbering him among those
+just, who shall be held in everlasting remembrance. Archibald
+Sutherland, in the wreck of hope and fortune, and good fame, preserving
+barely life. Ah! who would not rather have chosen the solitary grave in
+far Madeira, in which all sin and uncertainty lay dead, and where, above
+flowery sod, and gray headstone, there blossomed one sublime and
+stedfast hope, as sure and true as heaven.
+
+Archibald could not bear, what seemed the cold reproving scrutiny of
+that noble pictured face, and laying his arms upon the table, he bent
+down his head upon them. He fancied he could hear the music and gay
+voices still. Anne had left him. Mrs. Catherine lingered in her coming;
+even in this household, the only one in the cold world around him, in
+which he thought himself secure of welcome, the ruined man was nothing;
+bitter thoughts swelled up within his worn and wearied spirit, despair
+came back like a flood upon his heart; exhausted in health, broken in
+mind, disgraced in name--what remained for the once joyous heir of
+Strathoran, but poverty, neglect, and death.
+
+Large gray eyes, made larger by the dew that swelled beneath their lids,
+were looking on him, as thus he sank further and further, into that
+horror of great darkness. Mrs. Catherine, whose slow step he had not
+heard approaching, in the tumult of his own thoughts, stood by him
+silently; her strong features moved by the contest between severity and
+tenderness.
+
+"Archibald Sutherland," she said, harshly. The young man started, but
+did not lift his head. "Archie, my man!" Her large hand was upon his
+hair, stroking it softly, as if the head it covered had been a child's.
+He looked up. "You have sinned against your own spirit, and in the sight
+of God; but you are home in your own country, and under a kindly roof.
+Archie Sutherland, give me your hand, and let bygones be bygones between
+us."
+
+There was a silence of some minutes, during which, Mrs. Catherine
+grasped Archibald's trembling hand in one of her's, and with the other,
+smoothed down his dark hair, wet as it was, with the cold dew of mental
+pain. "Archie!" she repeated, "there have many waves passed over your
+head since I laid my hand upon it last; waves of sorrow and shame, and
+waves of sin, Archie Sutherland--but yet--be silent, and listen to
+me--yet I pray, as I prayed when we parted, that the blessing of the God
+of our fathers may be about you, boy, at this time, and for ever! Look
+up, and hear me. Let trouble, and toil, and hardship come, as the Lord
+will; lift up your head in His presence, Archie Sutherland, and plight
+me your word, that in your further warfare, manfully and honestly, and
+in the strength of His name, ye will resist sin. I fear no other thing
+in this earth, be it the sorest pain that ever wrung mortal flesh; but
+with a deadly fear do I tremble for that! That you will strive against
+it night and day, that you will give place to it--no, not for an
+hour--that wherever ye may be, in joy, or in tribulation, in peace, or
+in strife--ye will remember the One name whereby we can be saved, and
+resist iniquity, if need be unto blood. Your word, Archie Sutherland, I
+am waiting for your word."
+
+And solemnly, with lifted hand, and tremulous voice, the word was
+plighted. "With all the strength of a sad man, honestly, and in truth.
+Remembering the One name whereby we can be saved, and in the strength of
+Him who has overcome sin. God succor me!"
+
+The flush faded from his thin cheek, his hand fell. Mrs. Catherine stood
+still by his side, in the same attitude, her hand lying fondly upon his
+hair, and there was again an interval of silence. "The angel that
+redeemed me from all evil, bless the lad. Archie, be of good cheer. Who
+kens the ways of the Lord? We are tried, but we are not forsaken."
+
+Mrs. Catherine seated herself opposite him, and looked into his face.
+"You are white and thin, Archie, spent with that weary trouble--and you
+have been walking upon the damp road in the night air, like an imprudent
+lad, as you are, and will have wet feet, doubtless. Go up to your room
+like a good heart, and change them, and then, Archie, my man, we are all
+friends together. Come in, and see Lewis Ross, and the rest of them, for
+I have a houseful to-night."
+
+"I am not fit for any company," said the young man. "I should go in
+among them like a ghost. Mrs. Catherine, I have obeyed you to the
+letter. Last night, I saw my father's house in the possession of
+strangers. Last night, I saw that man in my father's seat. I have not
+shrunk from the full trial, and now there is no probation so hard, no
+struggle so bitter, but I am willing to embrace it, if I may but have a
+prospect of redeeming what I have sinfully lost; although it be only to
+die when all is done, beneath the roof where my fathers have lived and
+died before me."
+
+A sympathetic light kindled in Mrs. Catherine's eye; but the wasted
+young man beside her, needed soothing and rest, as she saw, and after
+her own fashion she comforted him. "Archie, I am in years, and there is
+no wish so near my heart, as to see your work done before I go hence;
+but to do your work you must be strong, and to be strong, ye must rest;
+this is no a time to speak of dying. I ken no man in this world, that
+has a chain to life as strong as you have yourself, Archie Sutherland,
+if it be the Lord's will, and truly, I have little hope of a man, with a
+labor before him, turning to death for ease and idleness. I doubt not,
+there are many years before you yet, blyther than these; but we will
+have time to speak of that hereafter. Go up to your room, Archie. It
+will mind ye of your school days, to have Andrew about you again, and
+come down when you are ready, to the little east room to me. You must
+even be a good bairn, and do my bidding to-night."
+
+Mrs. Catherine rose. Archibald rose too, in obedience. The strong old
+lady took the arm of the weak and exhausted young man, and half
+supporting him, went with him herself to the door of the red-room, where
+a cheerful fire was shining upon the warm color of curtains and
+furniture, while Andrew, with his grey hair dressed, and his best livery
+donned, in honor of the company, stood waiting at the door: the same
+room, with all its arrangements perfectly unchanged! the same friendly
+and well-known face, that had been wont to hover about him in kindly
+attendance in those joyous boyish days! The prodigal had returned
+home--the despairing man had entered into an atmosphere rich and warm
+with hope. Archibald threw himself into the old fire-side chair, and hid
+his face again in his hands, overpowered with a momentary weakness, from
+whose tears the strength of steadfast resolution and grateful purpose
+sprang up boldly, rising over bitterness and ruin and grief in sober
+triumph, the beginning of better days.
+
+But Archibald did not make his appearance in Mrs. Catherine's
+drawing-room that night. With the shame of his downfall strong upon him,
+and feeling so bitterly the disruption of all the ties which formerly
+bound him in kindly neighborship to these prosperous people, who knew
+his fall and humiliation alone, and did not know his painful struggles
+and sore repentance, he shrank from meeting them; and when, having
+entered the little east-room, he told Mrs. Catherine what pain her kind
+wish to cheer him would inflict upon him, she did not repeat her
+commands.
+
+"But I will meet ye half-way, Archie," she said, "Robert Ferguson, your
+good friend and honorable steward is laboring at this time redding up
+the tangled odds and ends of your affairs, and it is meet you should
+see him and render him right thanks for his good service. You ought to
+have gone to Woodsmuir first. I know not any mortal you are so much
+indebted to. Go your ways to the library and shut the door--I will send
+over for Mr. Ferguson. Na--you shall not stir over my door in a damp
+night till you have won back your strength again--and Mr. Foreman is
+here, Archie; would you like me to send him down? or are you able to
+stand it?"
+
+"Quite able," said Archibald, hastily. "Ask Mr. Foreman to come to me,
+Mrs. Catherine. With all your kindness, I yet cannot rest till I see
+something definite before me. I have lost too much time already, and Mr.
+Foreman is an old and kind friend. I do not deserve so many. Let him
+come to me, if, indeed, he will come--I need counsel sorely."
+
+Mrs. Catherine made a gesture of impatience. "And I am trysted with
+these young fools, and cannot win down beside you to put in my word. Mr.
+Foreman will come blythely, Archie--go your ways, and be careful of
+shutting the door, that you may not be disturbed. Andrew, let Johnnie
+Halflin ride to Woodsmuir without a moment's delay. If he tarries on the
+road, it will be at his peril; and give my compliments to Mr.
+Ferguson--or stay--Archie, write a word yourself."
+
+Established in the library, Archibald wrote a hasty note to Mr.
+Ferguson, and in a moment after heard Johnnie Halflin, with many
+arguments, persuading an unwilling pony to face the damp, chill blast,
+which swept so mournfully through the naked woods, and over the sighing
+Oran, and at last gallopping off on the road to Woodsmuir, the footsteps
+of his shaggy little steed sounding in unsteady leaps, as it struggled
+to turn its head from the wind, and regain its comfortable stable.
+
+Various groups in Mrs. Catherine's drawing room were whispering already
+reasons for her absence.
+
+"I am afraid, Mrs. Catherine is not well," said Mrs. Coulter,
+sympathetically. "Her face has had a look of trouble all the night."
+
+"Perhaps it is some unpleasant visitor," suggested Mr. Bairnsfather. "I
+thought she was agitated."
+
+"Mrs. Catherine agitated," cried Walter Foreman, "you might as soon
+shake the Tower."
+
+"Hold your peace, Sir," said his father. "These young men are constantly
+speaking of things they don't comprehend. Mrs. Catherine feels much more
+deeply than you will ever do."
+
+Walter looked up amazed. His father's eyes were uneasily fixed upon the
+door; his face anxious and full of care.
+
+"Ay," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, shaking her head pathetically, "it has
+been a great grief to her this downcome of young Strathoran. A fine
+life he led in Paris, by all accounts; he will surely never come home,
+to be a burden on Mrs. Catherine."
+
+Mr. Foreman turned round impatiently, as if to answer, but evidently
+checking with some difficulty an angry reply, looked again towards the
+door.
+
+"Poor Archibald," said the kindly Mrs. Coulter, "this is not a time for
+his friends to desert him. Dear me, there is Mr. Ambler persuading
+Jeanie to sing. Jeanie, my dear, mind what a cold you have got."
+
+"Just, 'Auld Robin Gray,' for the benefit of the seniors," said Mr.
+Ambler, "the first notes will call Mrs. Catherine back again."
+
+Jeanie Coulter seated herself at the piano, Walter Foreman took his
+place behind her. The "seniors" prepared to listen--the younger part of
+the company to whisper and exchange smiles and glances, the long ballad
+being too much for their patience.
+
+"Do you think it can be young Strathoran who has arrived?" whispered
+Mrs. Bairnsfather.
+
+Mrs. Coulter nodded impatiently, resenting the interruption of Jeanie's
+song.
+
+"Not that new fangled nonsense, Jeanie my dear," said Mrs. Catherine,
+entering. "You ken the tune Lady Anne wrote it for--a right breath to
+carry forth the story on--not that--as if sick hearts were like to play
+with a melody, and did not just seek the needful breath of music to send
+forth their sorrows withal."
+
+"You knew Lady Anne, Mrs. Catherine?" said Jeanie Coulter, playing with
+the keys, and finding this a proper opportunity for the hesitation and
+coyness necessary to set off her pretty voice and tasteful singing.
+
+"Ay, I knew Lady Anne--you all ken that; sing your ballad, Jeanie
+Coulter, and do not keep us waiting. Mr. Foreman, I have a word to say
+to you."
+
+The word was said. Mr. Foreman in haste, and not without agitation, left
+the room, and Mrs. Catherine herself stood near the piano listening to
+the music. Jeanie Coulter did the ballad--than which it seems to us,
+there is no history of more perfect beauty and pathos in all the stores
+of our Scottish tongue, rich though it be in such--full justice. The
+tremulous sad music stole through the room, arresting even Alice, though
+she was rising then nearly to the climax of her girlish happiness--"I
+wish I were dead, but I'm no like to dee." What strange avalanche of
+trouble could ever bring such words as these from Alice Aytoun's lips?
+It was impossible.
+
+Yet under that same roof was one, whose youthful beginning had been more
+prosperous than Alice Aytoun's, schooling himself to patience, as again
+and again the pain of his past transgressions came back upon him like a
+flood. Agent and factor had both taken their place beside him in the
+library--the lamp shone upon the somewhat sharp profile of Mr. Foreman,
+with its deepset acute eyes and deliberative look--upon the healthful,
+hardy, honest face of Mr. Ferguson, browned by exposure, and instinct
+with earnest sympathy and kindness--and upon Archibald Sutherland's wan
+and downcast countenance, with its mark of past sickness, and present
+melancholy humility; they were discussing his future career.
+
+"I will tell you what I propose for myself, Mr. Archibald," said Mr.
+Ferguson, "My occupation is gone, as you know, in respect to the estate
+of Strathoran. Now there is Loelyin and Lochend the entailed lands--you
+will remember that Alexander Semple is in them, and there are three
+years of his lease to run; but Semple has little capital and no
+enterprise, and I think would be glad to get rid of his lease and try a
+more productive farm. It is poor land."
+
+Archibald looked up vaguely, not seeing what the factor's remarks tended
+to:
+
+"The land is poor but improvable," continued Mr. Ferguson; "and the farm
+of Woodsmuir, which I have occupied myself, is in excellent condition. I
+believe that with capital and perseverance, the value of these entailed
+lands might be more than doubled, and Mr. Coulter, a practical man of
+high authority, bears me out."
+
+Archibald shook his head sadly:
+
+"We have no capital, Mr. Ferguson."
+
+"We have thought of that," said Mr. Ferguson; "but your friends--Mrs.
+Catherine for example--have, and this would be no temporary relief, but
+a certain benefit."
+
+"I see," said Archibald; "and yet it is impossible. My most kind
+friends, do not think it is pride--of all things there is none that
+would become me worse than that; but I am quite unfit for this trial. I
+question if now, with my mind excited and unsettled as it has been, I
+could endure the placid routine of a farmer's life anywhere. I have
+rather been looking forward to unceasing labor of a more engrossing
+kind, as the only wholesome discipline for me; but _here_ it is
+impossible--to live within sight of Strathoran, to reap the bitter
+fruits of my folly day by day, without intermission, upon my own
+alienated land--it would kill me--I could not do it, I could do anything
+but that."
+
+The factor had been waiting eagerly, with his hand lifted.--"Certainly
+not--surely not--we never could think of such a thing, Mr. Archibald.
+You must hear out my plan. What I propose is, that I, who have some
+knowledge of agriculture, and a taste for it, should take these farms
+into my own hand. I have consulted Mr. Coulter, and I will have the
+full benefit of his advice; and I am confident of Mrs. Catherine's
+assistance. In such an investment, capital is perfectly secure, and
+subject to no vicissitudes--very few, at least; and I fully believe,
+that, carefully and scientifically cultivated, we may quadruple the poor
+two hundred a year it yields now: so that, in addition to your own
+success, which I have no doubt is certain, if you throw your whole
+strength into any profession, there will be, in not very many years, a
+property of seven or eight hundred a year waiting for you. The original
+property, Mr. Archibald, with opportunity of adding to it, perhaps, bit
+by bit, from the rest of the estate--"
+
+Archibald Sutherland extended his hand silently, and grasped his
+factor's. "My punishment is to be overpowered with undeserved kindness,"
+he said, his voice trembling. "My obligations to you already transcend
+thanks, Mr. Ferguson, and yet you increase them."
+
+Mr. Ferguson resumed his statement hastily, as if ashamed of the emotion
+which wet his own eyes, and brought a kindred tremor to his voice. "I
+have grown grey in the district, Mr. Archibald, and would like ill to
+leave it now. My whole family were born in Woodsmuir. I have long been a
+theoretical farmer, you know; and now I will get some of my favorite
+crotchets put into practice. We shall come into collision Mr. Coulter
+and I," continued the factor, with a kind of hysterical attempt at a
+joke, which broke down woefully; "but we will, at least, have a fair
+field for our respective hobbies; and the prospect of so great an
+increase, Mr. Archibald, is worth working for."
+
+"Yes, to the worker," said Archibald; "but what justice can there be Mr.
+Ferguson, in you devoting years to increase my income? The fruit of your
+improvements is clearly your own--not mine."
+
+"There! there!" said Mr. Foreman, breaking in impatiently.--"The fact
+is, Ferguson, that you should have just put in your proposal without any
+preface to make it hazy. Mr. Ferguson takes Alexander Semple's place, at
+Alexander Semple's rent, Mr. Sutherland--that's his proposal--continues
+so, till his improvements are fairly and honestly paying, and then
+remains your tenant at the advanced rent: we will see that he does not
+offer you too little. As for the capital, that is our concern; I will
+undertake that."
+
+Archibald Sutherland said some incoherent words of thanks, he did not
+himself know what--neither did his hearers, as Mr. Ferguson shook his
+grey eye-lash free of some encumbering moisture, and Mr. Foreman
+coughed, and cleared his throat. There was a brief pause.
+
+"And for yourself, Mr. Archibald?" said the lawyer.
+
+"For myself, I do not know. I have formed no definite plan. Give me your
+counsel: I am ready to do anything."
+
+"The bar?" suggested Mr. Foreman.
+
+"Medicine?" ventured the factor.
+
+Archibald shook his head. "I am no longer a youth, and could ill spare
+years now for study. Do you know what a great work I am pledged to Mr.
+Foreman? No less than winning back what I have lost, and doing it in
+Mrs. Catherine's lifetime. You smile. It looks like a sick fancy, does
+it not?--yet it is a fancy that stirs me in every vein. I must work,
+gentlemen--I must work; how hardly I do not care; work for mere
+mercenary gain. I shall not gain honor with my schoolfellow Robert, Mr.
+Ferguson; that is beyond my reach. I must toil to the utmost of my
+strength to regain my birthright. I can afford to lose no time."
+
+Mr. Foreman had smiled gravely when Archibald began, but the smile
+settled down into a look of earnest attention before he concluded. He
+thought the hope futile, no doubt; but it was a hope: and his was not
+the hand to snatch it rudely from the grasp of a fallen man.
+
+"Business?" said Mr. Ferguson, half aloud. "He must be embarked in
+business--but how?"
+
+"Listen to me," said Archibald, becoming stronger, as it seemed, when
+his own fate came under discussion. "My friends, I must go abroad; I can
+neither rest nor work well at home--at this time, at least. Let me go
+alone, as humbly as may be. I will put myself under mercantile training
+at first, if you think it necessary. My own idea is--I have some poor
+pride, perhaps, in letting you see that I am not too proud for my fallen
+fortunes--that I should get a clerk's situation in some commercial house
+abroad--I do not care where--and work my way upward, as I can. I have no
+money; and what bare influence I could command, would help me little, I
+fancy. Let me make this experiment, with no adventitious help of
+patronage or introduction. If I fail, I will promise to return upon your
+hands again, trusting that your kindness will counsel the unhappy waif
+once more; but I hope not to fail. All the details remain to be
+considered.--When or how I am to endeavor to begin, I have not thought;
+and for whatever your kindness and better knowledge can suggest, I am in
+your hands."
+
+Neither of his grave counsellors spoke for some minutes; at last, Mr.
+Foreman said: "You are right, Mr. Archibald. I thought of that myself,
+formerly, but imagined foolishly, that you would shrink from trade. Your
+resolution is proper and wise; but remember--I do not wish to discourage
+you, but there are only a very few, who rise from the class of clerks
+into that of merchant princes. We are apt, in these days, to form
+mercantile romances for ourselves; there are some very wonderful
+instances, I grant, but they are rare."
+
+"As in all other professions," said Mr. Ferguson, watching the changes
+of Archibald's face anxiously; "but talent and vigor still more rarely
+remain in the humblest class. You are wearied, Mr. Archibald; let us
+adjourn this discussion. We can meet in Portoran in a day or two, if you
+are able," continued the factor, turning with all the solicitude of a
+nurse to his late patient, "if you are sure you are able."
+
+And with that agreement, Archibald, indeed thoroughly exhausted and worn
+out, parted with his kind advisers and retired to his room, where he
+fell asleep in dreamy peace, and strange unwonted quiet, in the
+pleasant, ruddy twilight, which the fire made, as it glimmered in its
+shooting lights, and depths of fantastic shadow, through the familiar
+room.
+
+The slight excitement of Archibald's arrival over, Anne returned to the
+company, with Alice Aytoun's song still ringing in her ear. Strange it
+was, how every passing event seemed to have some link of incoherent
+connection with Norman's terrible history. The stranger child in Mrs.
+Melder's cottage; the unconscious Alice; the magic threads were
+extending themselves in all directions. Anne almost feared to see new
+faces, to make new friends. Norman's image was growing before her eyes,
+filling up the whole horizon of that dim future. If she should meet
+himself! the wandering Cain might, with a strange fascination, such as
+she had read of, seek his own birthplace, ere he died; the idea was
+fearful--a constant haunting dread, surrounding her like a mist wherever
+she went.
+
+The evening wore on, and as the guests began to disperse, Anne, in
+virtue of her standing in the household, had various parting courtesies
+to pay; to stand at the hall door, while Mrs. Coulter's carriage was
+packed with the many members of her family; to see Miss Falconer away,
+and Mrs. Bairnsfather; and when she returned to look for Lewis, the
+drawing-room was nearly empty. Lewis was not there, neither was Alice
+Aytoun. The door communicating with the little east room was ajar, and
+Anne entered, seeking her brother. The room was dimly lighted with one
+candle. Who stood at its further end? Lewis Ross and Alice Aytoun, hand
+in hand. Anne stood silent, on the threshold, in chill, fear and
+apprehension, her head bent forward, her eyes fixed upon them. Little
+Alice, drooping, blushing, leaning on her companion. Lewis, triumphant,
+proud, meeting his sister's gaze with a smiling defiance. Anne stood
+still, seeing all, and could not speak. In another moment, Alice had
+glided towards her, thrown her slight arms round her waist, and was
+clinging to her like a child.
+
+"Anne, be her sister," said Lewis, with unusual emotion. Anne smiled a
+sickly smile, as in a painful dream, laid her hand unconsciously upon
+the girl's fair hair, felt Alice start, and shiver at the touch of her
+cold fingers, and then, hastily disengaging herself, left the room, her
+very brain reeling, leaving Lewis enraged, and Alice grieved and
+alarmed, in the very fulness of her joy. It was all over now; the fatal
+engagement was made, and what remained but to blight the girlish
+gladness, and pour upon Lewis's startled ears, the knowledge of that
+fatal crime, which stood like a spectre between his betrothed and him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+Lewis Ross and his sister walked home together in silence and
+alienation. Lewis was sullenly indignant, while Anne, still overpowered
+by that whirl of agitation, pain and fear, felt grateful for Duncan's
+officious attendance with his lanthorn, which precluded any conversation
+of a private kind, between her brother and herself. In her first shock
+and bewilderment, she knew not what to do--whether to communicate her
+secret at once, or to delay until she herself knew the terrible story
+more perfectly. She determined on the latter course, before they reached
+Merkland, and pained still further by her brother's averted looks, and
+sullen silence, whispered: "Lewis, forgive me, I knew not what I was
+doing," as they entered the house. Lewis took no notice, but went
+angrily into the parlor, in which his mother usually sat. A fit of
+ill-humor had prevented Mrs. Ross from accompanying them to the
+Tower--the same cause had afflicted her with headache, and sent her to
+her room, full two hours before they returned home, and to Anne's
+satisfaction, there was no family intercourse of any kind that night.
+
+Once safe in the shelter of her own apartment, she sat through the dead
+hours of that chill January night, laboring to form some plan for her
+further proceedings. She could not concentrate her mind upon
+them--shooting off, now here, now there, those floods of distempered
+thoughts refused that bondage--now called back from a long and vivid
+picturing of Norman's desolate and hopeless way, and Norman's blighted
+life--now from recalling in strange caprice the girlish gaiety and sunny
+future of Alice Aytoun, dwelling upon its bright particulars, as if to
+exaggerate the gloom that now lowered over the gladness of those
+youthful days. The host of indefinite and conflicting purposes, which
+terminated all these discursive wanderings of thought, would not be
+reconciled. Crowding about her like so many phantoms, they even stifled
+the voice of her appeal to that One counsellor from whom it was Anne
+Ross's constant wont to seek wisdom and guidance. Confused words,
+meaningless and often repeated, swelled up from her heart, constantly--a
+mere vacant cry of agony--for her mind was wandering all the while, from
+point to point, in aimless and bewildered speed.
+
+With but the slight difference, that, for an hour or two, these confused
+thoughts, remaining as active as before, took upon them the yet more
+fantastic garb of dreams; her mind continued in the same state of
+excited agitation during the whole night, and it was only when the chill
+morning began to break, grey and faint, through the dark clouds of the
+east, that springing from her feverish sleep and unhappy fancies
+together, Anne girded herself for the work that lay before her. To see
+Mrs. Catherine, and ascertain beyond doubt that Alice was the daughter
+of that Aytoun who fell by Norman's hand--that seemed her first step. To
+learn as fully and clearly as might be the particulars of the tragedy
+itself, and if possible, to get possession of Norman's letter to her
+father, which Mrs. Ross had mentioned, and which, with foolish
+procrastination for which she now blamed herself, Anne had shrunk from
+seeking. If she had but accomplished these necessary preliminaries, Anne
+hoped that her mind might acquire more coherence, and that she might be
+able to resolve what was best to be done, for making known the secret to
+Alice and Lewis--the two individuals most deeply concerned.
+
+Dressing herself hastily, she left Merkland, and took the path up
+Oranside, which led to the Tower. Anne was privileged to have admittance
+at all times, and knew that Mrs. Catherine was, comparatively, an early
+riser. The path was damp and slippery--the morning coming in, in
+clinging garments of wet mist, grey, drizzling and disconsolate, with
+blasts of thin rain, sweeping now and then in her face.
+
+Mrs. Catherine was seated in her small dressing room, which was
+immediately over "the little room"--and like it looked out upon the bare
+ascent of the hill behind the Tower. She was dressed, all but the large
+soft grey shawl which her stately attendant Mrs. Elspeth Henderson was
+carefully unfolding; and seated in an easy chair by the fireside, was
+having her usual half-hour's gossip with her "gentlewoman."
+
+"And so you think Anne Ross is looking ill, Elspat," said Mrs.
+Catherine; "it's my hope you and your wise daughter have no design upon
+the poor bairn. Mind, I will have no doctoring of my Anne. I believe
+Euphan Morison is crazy!--my best cow in the deadthraw with her
+abominations! I will not have it, Elspat, though she is your daughter.
+My household shall be poisoned with physic at the will of no woman."
+
+"Euphan walks according to her lights, Madam," responded Mrs. Elspat;
+"but if ye ask my opinion, I would say that Miss Ross needit spiritual
+physic, and no temporal: the bitter herbs o' repentance and grace, and
+no camomile and wormwood--though I hold with Euphan doubtless that the
+last are of service in their place."
+
+"Hold with Euphan--a great authority truly!" said Mrs. Catherine.
+"Spiritual physic, bitter herbs--ye are all fools together, the whole
+household and lineage of you! Not that I am saying we are, any of us,
+above grace and repentance--forbid that such a profane thing should come
+from my lips, but--Elspat Henderson what are you groaning at?--the bairn
+Anne is more simple and devout than the whole tribe of you."
+
+Mrs. Elspat Henderson looked meek and injured.
+
+"It would ill become me, Madam, to maintain that anything is, when it's
+your pleasure to say it _is not_. Nevertheless, it's my privilege to
+lift up my testimony to the iniquity of human-kind, all and haill. We
+are all perverse, yea we have gone out of the way--we have together
+become unprofitable; there is none--"
+
+"Woman, woman, hold your peace," said Mrs. Catherine, "as if I was like
+to hold inherent ill of light import--me that have seen its outbreaking,
+time after time, in lives that the world called pure, and no less in my
+own. Carry your testimony to your Maker's presence, Elspat Henderson,
+and mind that ye stand sole there, and cannot glide out of your ain
+private evil in the cover of a '_we_.' And what is your special ill-will
+at Anne Ross? what is her misdeed the now?"
+
+Mrs. Elspat gave a prolonged sigh.
+
+"That ye should have so puir an opinion of me, as to throw such a blame
+on your auld and faithful servant. _Me_, a special ill-will at the young
+lady! it's my hope I will never be so far left to mysel, frail vessel as
+I am."
+
+Mrs. Catherine groaned.
+
+"Is it your purpose to drive me out of all patience, Elspat Henderson?
+Truly, if the three of you are no enough to banish peace from any
+mortal, I am no judge. What cause of censure have you, then, if I am no
+to say ill-will against my Anne? What has she done?"
+
+Mrs. Elspat coughed solemnly.
+
+"Miss Ross has been looking uncommon white and thin, Madam, since ever
+the day that Miss Aytoun came to the Tower; and if ye'll notice yoursel
+how she looks steadfast at Miss Alice, and syne grows white, as if she
+would swarf away, you'll see that what I am saying is true, neither less
+nor mair."
+
+Mrs. Catherine seemed struck, and did not answer immediately. Her
+attendant approached with the shawl. Mrs. Catherine took it, and wrapped
+it round her.
+
+"Ay!" she exclaimed at last, "and what does your wisdom make of that?"
+
+"If there is a sore evil under the sun," said Mrs. Elspat, oracularly,
+"it is envy, and a jealous ill-will at folk better gifted and better
+likit than oursels. Far be it from me to lay a hard word upon a young
+lady like Miss Ross, but--"
+
+"Elspat Henderson!" said Mrs. Catherine, angrily, "your learned daughter
+will be waiting on you for her breakfast. Go your ways down the stair,
+and, between this time and the morn, look me out the Psalm that gives a
+righteous reward to him that slanders his neighbor privately. I know
+well David, honest man, let his pen fall ajee when he wrote it 'him,'
+and no 'her'--and see that you coin no more scandal out of the ill mists
+of your own brain to rouse my wrath withal. You may leave the room, Mrs.
+Elspat Henderson--I have no further need of you."
+
+The cowed attendant withdrew, and Mrs. Catherine seated herself in
+stately indignation. By-and-by her face grew calmer, graver. The
+suggestion awakened a new train of thought, and roused anxieties and
+fears, hitherto, in the pre-occupation of her mind, never dreamed of.
+Anne Ross's light tap at the door came when she was deeply engaged in
+these, and Mrs. Catherine rose and opened it with some anger remaining
+in her face.
+
+"Child!" she exclaimed; "at this time in the morning--through the
+mist--and with trouble in your face! What is the matter?" Anne entered,
+and sat down to recover her breath, and re-arrange her thoughts. Mrs.
+Catherine closed the door carefully, and, resuming her seat, looked in
+Anne's face and waited.
+
+"There is nothing the matter, Mrs. Catherine," said Anne, smiling
+faintly; "that is--they are all well in Merkland, and I--I just wanted
+to consult you--to ask your advice."
+
+"Speak out, child," said Mrs. Catherine. "It is something not common
+that has brought you here this morning. Tell me what it is. Does it
+concern Archie?"
+
+"No, no," said Anne. "Something far more--I mean just a little matter
+connected with ourselves--I should say myself, rather, for neither Mrs.
+Ross nor Lewis know my errand, Mrs. Catherine--"
+
+"Child, speak out," exhorted her friend.
+
+"You will think it very foolish," said Anne, a sickly ray of hope
+breaking upon her as the time of certain knowledge drew so near, "I only
+wanted to ask you about Miss Aytoun's family. I mean--Miss
+Aytoun--Alice--is her father alive?"
+
+Mrs. Catherine regarded her for a considerable time in silence. Anne
+felt the long, firm look a death knell to her last hope, and returned it
+with a strange, callous steadiness, such as comes occasionally in the
+extremity of trial, imparting to the sufferer a fictitious strength.
+
+"Her father is not alive. Wherefore do you ask me, child?"
+
+The unnatural flicker of hope rose again.
+
+"Where did he die, and how? I beseech you to tell me, Mrs. Catherine!"
+
+"Anne," said Mrs. Catherine, gravely; "for what purpose do you seek to
+know? Wherefore do you question me so?"
+
+"Where did he die, and when, and how?" repeated Anne.--"Answer me, Mrs.
+Catherine--do not hesitate--I am prepared."
+
+Mrs. Catherine paused long before she answered.
+
+"The place was a country place--far south from this; the time was
+seventeen years ago; the way was--" Mrs. Catherine paused again. "To
+what purpose is this questioning, child? It is a matter that concerns
+you not."
+
+"The way was--?" repeated Anne, clasping her hand eagerly.
+
+"The way was--he was killed," said Mrs. Catherine, in abrupt haste.
+"Shot, as men shoot beasts. Anne Ross, I brought the bairn Alison to my
+house, because she was an innocent bairn that I wanted to do a kindness
+to, and not because of her parentage."
+
+Anne heard the words, but did not discern their meaning, and sat, in the
+blind, fainting sickness that possessed her, repeating them to herself,
+unconsciously.
+
+"Child, child!" said Mrs. Catherine, in alarm. "What ails you? What have
+you heard? I am meaning, why have you come to me with such a question?"
+
+"One other--only one," said Anne, recollecting herself. "Mrs. Catherine,
+who was it--who was the murderer?"
+
+Mrs. Catherine made an appealing motion with her hand, and did not
+answer.
+
+But Anne was perfectly self-possessed again.
+
+"Was it Norman?"
+
+Mrs. Catherine did not speak; it was not necessary. The answer was far
+too legibly written in the long, steadfast look of grief and sympathy
+which she fixed upon her companion's face.
+
+And so they sat in silence for some minutes, too deeply moved and
+engrossed for words. At length Anne started up.
+
+"That is all," she said, hurriedly. "I must go now. I have much to do."
+
+Mrs. Catherine rose also, took her hand, and led her back to her seat.
+
+"You shall not leave my house, child, till I hear more of this. Who was
+so cruel as to tell you this sorrowful story? and what is it that you
+have to do?"
+
+Anne sat down again, mechanically.
+
+"Child," said Mrs. Catherine; "I have never spoken Norman's name in your
+hearing, nor suffered it to be spoken. Who has told you a terrible
+story, which was buried in grief and forgetfulness long ago, when the
+unhappy lad found his grave under the sea? It is not known in the
+countryside, for the deed was done far from here, and your father hung
+back, and took no note, outwardly, of the miserable boy's fate. He was
+right maybe. I would not have done the like--but that is little matter.
+Who told you?"
+
+"Found his grave under the sea!" murmured Anne, unconsciously.
+
+"What say ye, child?"
+
+"It was Mrs. Ross," said Anne, "when Miss Aytoun came first to the
+Tower, she told me that she feared this was _his_ daughter. Oh! Mrs.
+Catherine, why did you not keep her separate from us? If we had not been
+brought so much together, this could not have happened."
+
+"Child," said Mrs. Catherine, "there is something on your mind yet,
+which is not known to me; the story is a woeful story, dark enough to
+cause sore grief; but it is over and past, and there is some living
+dread upon you. What has happened?"
+
+Anne looked up--she could not find words to communicate her "living
+dread"--she only murmured "Lewis."
+
+Mrs. Catherine started. "Lewis? Child what is it ye mean? No that there
+is anything--No, no, what makes me fear that--there can be no liking
+between the two."
+
+"There is, there is," said Anne.
+
+Mrs. Catherine rose, and walked through the room uneasily.
+
+"It must be put to an end--immediate--without delay. I brought the bairn
+here to do her a kindness, no to give her a sore heart. Child, Lewis
+must not enter my house again till Alison Aytoun is home. She is but a
+bairn--it can have gone no further than the slight liking of a boy and a
+girl. Where were my eyes that I did not see the peril? Child, it must
+end this very day--better the pang of a sudden parting--better that each
+of them should think they were slighted by the other, than that it
+should ever come to an explanation between them, and then to the
+rendering of reasons--it must go no further."
+
+"It is too late," said Anne; "there has already been an explanation
+between them. Mrs. Catherine, they are engaged."
+
+Mrs. Catherine paced up and down the small apartment with quick steps.
+
+"I am compassed with troubles! no sooner seeing my way out of one, than
+another opens before me. Anne, my puir bairn, I am a selfish fool to
+think of my own gray head, when the burden falls the heaviest on your
+young one. What will we do? there is a purpose in your eye as I can
+see--tell me what it is."
+
+Anne did not know how to proceed: she could not betray Norman's secret
+even to Mrs. Catherine.
+
+"I will tell Lewis," she said, "and perhaps, Mrs. Catherine--I do not
+know what is best to be done with poor Alice, so happy and young as she
+is--perhaps you will tell her--not all--but something to excuse Lewis."
+
+Mrs. Catherine shook her head.
+
+"It will not do. It will not do. If I excuse Lewis, she will think it is
+but some passing thing that awhile will wear away.--No, child, no, if
+the bairn hears anything, she must hear all."
+
+"I will tell Lewis," said Anne; "but I must first learn the whole of
+this dreadful story more perfectly. I thought of going to old Esther
+Fleming: she was Norman's nurse, Mrs. Catherine--is she likely to know
+of this?"
+
+"I mind much of it myself," said Mrs. Catherine, "but you will get it
+better from Esther Fleming than from any other mortal. I have been taken
+up with many diverse things, but Norman and her own son were year's
+bairns, and Norman was the light of Esther Fleming's eyes. Your father
+made no endeavor to help the miserable young man, child. I know what you
+would say--there was no time--and it is true--for the deed had not been
+two days done, when he was on the sea--be thankful, child, that he
+perished in the sea and did not die a shameful death."
+
+Anne trembled--the consciousness of her secret overpowering her as if it
+had been guilt. Alas! over the head of the murderer the shameful death
+impended still.
+
+"Did the family know?" she asked, her mind becoming strangely familiar
+with the subject: "could they know of Norman's relationship to Lewis?"
+
+"No," said Mrs. Catherine. "When Arthur Aytoun died, his wife was a
+young thing, feeble in her health, and oppressed with many troubles; for
+I have heard that he was far from a good man. James Aytoun was but a
+bairn then, and Alison was not born; besides that, they were strangers
+in that countryside, as well as Norman--being from the south--and would
+know little of him but his name. Mrs. Aytoun is a woman of a chastened
+spirit, child; she knows the unhappy lad has answered for his guilt
+langsyne before his Maker; and think not that she will keep his name in
+the mother's heart of her, in any dream of vengeance."
+
+Anne could not answer: her secret lay upon her like a cloud, weighing
+her down to the very earth.
+
+"I must tell the bairn," continued Mrs. Catherine, as if consulting with
+herself; "ay, I must tell the bairn, that she may know, without having
+any sick month of waiting, that there is a bar between Lewis and her
+that cannot be passed over--that there is a stern and terrible
+conclusion put to the dreams of their young love.--Child! it is a sore
+weight to lay upon a spirit innocent of all sorrow."
+
+Anne assented silently.
+
+"And you will have a harder battle with the youth," said Mrs. Catherine.
+"Child, there are bairns in this generation that would fain inherit the
+rights and possessions of their fathers, without the ills and the
+wrongs. Take heed of Lewis, lest he endeavor to hold this black deed
+lightly. I will not have it. The blood that a Ross spilt must never be
+joined in near kindred to another Ross. There is a deadly bar between
+the houses. Forgiveness there may be, full and free--I doubt it not--but
+union never. Mind, there can be no softening--no forgetting. The spirit
+that was sent to its account in violence and haste, by Norman's hand,
+would rise to bar that ill-trysted betrothal. It must end."
+
+Anne rose.
+
+"I will go," she said. "I parted from Lewis last night in anger, because
+I had no kind word to say to Alice when he bade me be her sister. I must
+hasten now to learn these terrible details more accurately. Lewis might
+refuse to believe a story which came so suddenly upon him, and came for
+such a purpose, if I did not know it all. I must go now."
+
+"You will get it best from Esther," said Mrs. Catherine. "I know she has
+brooded, in secret, over his sin and his death, since ever his sun set
+in yon terrible waves of blood-guiltiness. Anne, my bairn!" Mrs.
+Catherine paused, laid her hand upon Anne's drooping head, and went on,
+her voice sounding low and solemn. "The Lord uphold and strengthen you
+for your work; the Lord guide you with the uplifting of His countenance,
+and give you to walk firm in the midst of tribulation, and not to falter
+or be weary in the way."
+
+Once out again upon Oranside, Anne felt the oppression of her terrible
+secret grow upon her to suffocation. "He is alive! he is alive!"--the
+words came bursting to her lips; she felt tempted, in the strange,
+almost irresistible, insanity of the moment, to proclaim it aloud, as
+she hurried along; running sometimes, with a sick feeling of escaping
+thereby from the phantom that overshadowed her inmost heart. The crime
+itself seemed to become dimmer, in its far distance. The thought that
+Norman was alive, laden with his fearful burden of remorse and
+blood-guiltiness, abiding perchance the shameful death of the murderer,
+filled her whole being almost to frenzy, and, with its circle of
+possibilities, curdled her very blood with terror.
+
+Mrs. Ross and Lewis were about sitting down to breakfast, when Anne
+returned to Merkland, and the domestic horizon was anything but clear.
+Lewis, forgetful of his last night's sullen petulance, was in high
+spirits--spirits so high as to aggravate his mother's ill-humor. She
+grudged that he should have found so much pleasure at the Tower; and,
+sneering at Mrs. Catherine, whose unquestioned superiority had always
+galled her, kept up a biting war of inuendo and covert sarcasm.
+
+"A pleasant morning for walking, Miss Ross," she said, as Anne took her
+seat at the table.
+
+"Why, Anne, have you been out?" exclaimed Lewis. "You have good taste
+certainly, so far as weather goes. Where do you go to, so early in the
+morning?"
+
+"Oh, no doubt she has been at the Tower," said Mrs. Ross. "Duncan and
+May will be going next. We are possessed with a Tower fever. I presume
+you were making tender inquiries after Mr. Sutherland, Miss Ross? At
+this time, of course, it is quite sentimental and romantic to entertain
+a friendship--nay, perhaps, something warmer than friendship--for the
+interesting unfortunate."
+
+"I might have asked for poor Archibald," said Anne, "if I had thought of
+him at all; but I did not remember even that he had come home."
+
+"Then you have been at the Tower?"
+
+Anne hesitated. "I did go in to see Mrs. Catherine," she said,
+falteringly.
+
+Lewis looked up gratefully, and smiled upon her with a smile which said,
+"I thank you;" before which Anne shrank, and turned away her head.
+
+"I do not know how we shall get on in the ordinary affairs of life,"
+continued Mrs. Ross, "while this Tower madness lasts. I should like to
+know wherein the fascination lies. One can understand a passing
+infatuation, in a boy like Lewis; but for you, Anne, who should have
+some idea of propriety and decorum, to be visiting the house, where you
+knew that young man had arrived at night, so very early in the
+morning--I really am amazed; I do not understand it."
+
+Anne blushed painfully: Lewis drew himself up in towering indignation.
+"Passing infatuation!"--"a _boy_ like Lewis!"
+
+There was a fortunate diversion made, however, by the entrance of May,
+with letters, and until their meal was ended, there was a cessation of
+hostilities, though Mrs. Ross still kept up a fugitive fire, hitting
+right and left, Lewis and Anne alternately. The breakfast over, Lewis
+rose to leave the room.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed his mother. "I suppose you are going to the Tower."
+
+"Yes, mother," said Lewis, gravely, "I am going to the Tower; and when I
+return I shall have something to tell you, which, as it will be of
+great importance to me, I hope you will receive calmly, and in a more
+gentle spirit."
+
+He left the room. Mrs. Ross followed him with her eyes in astonishment,
+and then going to the window, watched him turn up Oranside. Anne sat in
+terror, lest she should be questioned as to the mystery of Lewis' words,
+but fortunately, she was not. Mrs. Ross sat down, and took her sewing.
+Anne had done so before, and the two ladies pursued their work in
+silence.
+
+The needle trembled in Anne's excited fingers; she felt the acceleration
+of her pulse, she heard the loud, quick throbbing of her heart. The
+silence became awful; she fancied Mrs. Ross could hear her fingers
+stumbling at every stitch. "Mother," she said, looking up at last. "I
+have a great favor to ask of you."
+
+Mrs. Ross glanced at her impatiently. "Well; what is it?"
+
+"You spoke to me once, of a letter--a letter," continued Anne, growing
+bolder, as she steadied her voice, "which my unhappy brother, Norman,
+wrote to my father; you said I might see it some time, mother!"
+
+"Upon my word, girl, I believe you want to drive me mad," exclaimed Mrs.
+Ross, angrily. "You see me half distracted, with the wilfulness and
+regardlessness of Lewis, and you bring in your own foolish fancies, and
+your brother's shameful story, as if I had not enough to vex me without
+that. Try to come down to ordinary life a little, and do not torment me
+with your chimeras."
+
+"This is no chimera," said Anne, "nor whim, nor fancy, nor anything of
+the kind; it is of the gravest importance that I should see that letter.
+It is not even curiosity, though I need hardly be blamed for feeling
+deep interest in the history of my brother. For the sake of my father's
+memory, and for the sake of Lewis, the two bonds between us, give me
+Norman's letter. I will ask nothing further of you; this I must beg and
+plead for, this you must give me."
+
+Mrs. Ross stared angrily in her face, resenting, and yet something
+impressed by the very strange tone of command, which, impelled by the
+vehemence of her feelings, mingled with Anne's entreaty. At last she
+rose, and walking quickly to her desk, opened it, and took from an inner
+drawer a small key, which she threw upon the table.
+
+"There! let me have no further heroics; that is the key of an old bureau
+of your father's, which you will find up stairs among the lumber. The
+letter is in some of the drawers. At least, don't let me have any
+further trouble about it. I yield to you now, only to take away from you
+the power of tormenting me at another time."
+
+Anne did not pause to note the ungracious manner in which her petition
+was granted; but laying by her work nervously, she took the key, and
+hurried upstairs. The old bureau, of dark carved wood, stood dusty and
+damp in a recess, and Anne had to draw aside boxes of mouldering papers,
+and articles of broken furniture, before she reached it. The picture
+stood in her way; she knelt down again, delaying in her very eagerness,
+now, that the long wished-for letter was within her reach, to look upon
+the portrait; so bold, and frank, and open, in its flush of manly
+boyhood. Was that the face of a murderer?
+
+Her fingers trembled so with haste and agitation, that she could
+scarcely open the many drawers, and examine their contents. In the last
+of all she found the letter, wrapped in a large sheet of paper, within
+which was something written, in the tremulous scratchy hand, which Anne
+knew to be her father's. With Norman's letter before her, she yet paused
+to read the comment of the dead--a comment which startled her into wild
+agitation, and still wilder hope.
+
+"To my children, Anne and Lewis Ross:
+
+     "I am a dying man, and will never see either of you arrive at years
+     to be trusted with such a secret; but I charge you, when this
+     packet comes to your hands, to give earnest heed to it, as you
+     value the last words of your father. I am standing in the presence
+     of my Lord, with death at my door, a hoary-headed man, bent to the
+     grave with trouble, and I leave to you who come after me, my solemn
+     conviction that Norman Rutherford, your brother, is innocent of the
+     crime laid to his charge. The whole course of his past life is
+     before me, and my eyes are clear with looking upon death face to
+     face. This blood is not upon Norman's hand. Listen to his own
+     words, children; and believe with me that his words are true. A
+     frail and stricken man, I have done nothing to clear him of the
+     imputed guilt; but as a special heritage, I leave this work to you.
+     His blood is in your veins; he is your nearest kindred. Children of
+     my old age, save my son Norman! As you would have a blessing on
+     your own youth and prosperity, remember the desolate exile in his
+     wanderings, and clear his name and fame. My eye is waxing heavy,
+     and my hand weak--it is the beginning of death. Anne, sole child of
+     his mother! Lewis, heir of my name! my charge is upon you. I appeal
+     you to the throne of Him, who, in the fulness of His glory, forgot
+     not this fallen world, but left a heavenly kingdom to save and die
+     for it--if you disregard the last petition my lips will ever utter
+     on this earth. My son Norman is innocent of this blood--clear him
+     of the blot upon his name--bring him back to die peacefully in his
+     own land, and the blessing of the God who binds up the
+     broken-hearted, be about you all, for evermore.
+
+LAWRENCE ROSS."
+
+
+
+Anne laid down the letter, her eyes full of grateful tears, almost
+joyful in their tremulous solemnity. There was sorrow, and labor, and
+darkness in the way--there was not crime. The blessed belief came into
+her soul in solemn sunshine--the cloud rolled off her head. A strange
+invigoration was in every vein. Norman was _alive!_ alive to receive the
+triumphant acquittal of justice--alive to be saved! She opened his
+letter, her tears falling thick upon it: other drops had fallen there
+before--the tears of the old man's agony. She read it.
+
+     "Before you see this, they will have told you that I am a murderer.
+     It is not so, father: believe a despairing man, it is not so.
+     Arthur Aytoun has done me wrong: but I would not have put a hair of
+     his head in peril. I would have guarded him with my own life.
+     Wherever he is, be it in joy or misery, he bears me witness, before
+     God, that I am innocent of his blood. Father my heart is like to
+     burst. What can I say to you--my hand is clean. I am innocent!--I
+     am innocent! there is no blood upon my soul. And yet I dare not
+     venture to trust myself to a trial, with every circumstance against
+     me. I have nothing for it but flight. To-night I go further away--I
+     know not where--under cover of the darkness, like a felon and a
+     criminal, as men will call me. It gnaws at my very heart. I would
+     rather have died a thousand times--a cold-blooded, cowardly
+     murderer! Father, father! you will not believe it of your son!
+
+     "They would find me guilty if I remained--they could not fail to
+     find me guilty--and the disgrace of a fugitive will be less upon
+     our house and name than the disgrace of a convicted murderer, dying
+     a shameful death. It is like a coward to fly. I am a coward. I do
+     not dare to meet that fatal judgment. I could not bear to hear
+     myself called guilty, with my innocence strong in my heart. I have
+     a suspicion, too--a terrible fear and suspicion--and I must fly.
+     Father, I can say no more, even to you. I am a sinful man before
+     God; but my hand is as pure of blood, as when I stood beside you on
+     Oranside, before death had ever entered Merkland. They know in
+     Heaven--if they can see my unhappy fortunes--my mother, Lawrence,
+     Edward--they know that I am innocent. I do not know what I say. My
+     thoughts are wandering like a sick man's. Father, I am innocent!
+
+     "Marion is with me--she is my wife. We have escaped from the sea in
+     peril of our lives--they will tell you I have perished in it--I
+     would I had, but for Marion. Father, you may never hear from me, or
+     of me, again; but again remember, I am innocent--this blood does
+     not stand between God and me. Why this fearful cloud has covered
+     us, He knows who sent it. It may depart yet, in His good time. For
+     this unjust world, farewell, father. We will meet where there are
+     no false accusations--where God himself shall vindicate the right.
+     I become patient--I become trustful. Father, pray--pray that I may
+     live to be cleared of this horror--that the curse may be taken from
+     my name--that I may be acknowledged guiltless.
+
+N. R. R."
+
+
+
+Norman Rutherford's sister was kneeling before his portrait--her clasped
+hands holding her forehead, her eyes raining hot tears, her soul poured
+out before God. Norman was _alive_--could be prayed for, hoped for,
+toiled for. The curse was turned into a blessing. The path was wintry
+still, and bare, and laborious; but that horrible spectre of blood was
+gone; and the majestic presence of justice, and the clear rays of hope,
+were on the way instead. She was able for all labor, all patience, all
+sorrow in his cause. Norman was innocent.
+
+Anna rose at length, folded the precious letters carefully, placed them
+in her bosom, and then hastily descended the stair, and set out again
+for the old nurse's cottage, to learn, according to her original
+intention, the particulars of this dark history there. The Oran moaned
+no more, but only murmured plaintively, between his banks, the kindly
+song of home; and Anne, as she passed under the trees, almost with a
+light heart, murmured to herself the prayer of Alice Aytoun's song--for
+the wayfaring man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+Esther Fleming, Norman Rutherford's nurse, lived in a cottage by
+herself, not far from Merkland. When the first Mrs. Ross's first son was
+born, Esther had entered her service as "bairns'-maid," had left it
+again to be married, and after a brief period of two years had returned
+a youthful widow, with one boy infant of her own, between whose birth
+and Norman's there was but some brief intervals of weeks. Esther had
+remained the head of Mrs. Ross's nursery through the vicissitudes of all
+the succeeding years; had received into her charge infant after infant
+of Mrs. Ross's family, and with grief, less only than the mother's, had
+seen the tender blossoms fall one by one into the family grave: but
+Norman was peculiarly her own--a tie especially tender attached the
+generous, manly boy, to his foster-mother; and when her own handsome
+sailor-lad, returned from his first voyage, stood up to measure his
+height with that of his playmate and comrade, Esther's overflowing eye
+looked with scarce less partial pride upon Norman Rutherford than upon
+William Fleming. When Mrs. Ross herself died, the little Anne became
+the object of Esther's devoted and unceasing care, although her removal
+from Merkland to the cottage she now occupied took place before the
+second marriage of Mr. Ross; but even after that event, bitterly as the
+faithful servant resented it, Esther continued, for her delicate
+nurseling's sake, to hold her footing in Merkland, and to pay daily
+visits to her old dominion in the nursery, asserting against all comers,
+and in face of the new darling, Lewis himself, the rights and privileges
+of "Miss Anne." But when Anne was still a child, a blight fell upon
+Esther Fleming; the self-same blight, which brought the gray hairs of
+Norman Rutherford's father in sorrow to the grave. The old nurse,
+stronger, or more tenacious of life, had borne her sorrow silently, and
+marked it more by her utter seclusion from the rustic society round her,
+than by any other demonstration. She had a little niece living with her,
+to manage her small domestic concerns, and except through this girl and
+Anne, Esther had no intercourse with the world--the very brief and quiet
+world--about her. Her house stood on a high bank of the Oran, with a
+pathway winding before it; and the grassy descent, dark with old trees
+and bushes, shelving steeply down behind. Within, the little dwelling
+consisted of two apartments, perfectly clean and neat (as is, indeed,
+much more usual in our Scottish cottage than southern readers give us
+credit for,) though without any attempt at ornament, except the two or
+three small profile portraits of children, which hung over the
+mantlepiece of the outer room, the only existing memorials of the dead
+sons and daughters of the house of Merkland, which Esther had rescued
+from their disgrace, in the lumber-room, after Mr. Ross's death.
+
+The nurse herself, in her gown and petticoat of dark print, and white
+cap bordered with narrow lace, and carefully-kept hood of black velvet,
+sat sewing by the fire, making shirts for her sailor son, then far away
+in a man-of-war, toiling upon the sea. Esther was alone, so there was no
+obstacle in the way of Anne's errand.
+
+"Esther," she said, when she had delayed nervously for some time, in
+indifferent conversation, "I have come to ask you about a very grave
+matter, of which I only heard recently. A secret, Esther--you know--"
+
+She paused. Esther looked up gravely in her face, and then, rising,
+closed the door.
+
+"Mr. Norman?" she asked in a very low voice.
+
+"Yes," said Anne. "You know it all, Esther?"
+
+"God be thanked that has put it in your heart to ask," said the nurse,
+solemnly. "Yes, Miss Anne, I ken. It has been lying heavy on my heart
+since ever that cloud fell upon my boy. I have looked to you--I have aye
+looked to. Ye are like your mother, and will not falter. Oh, Miss Anne!
+if ye but kent how it has lain upon my heart!"
+
+Anne looked at her inquisitively, uncertain how far her knowledge went,
+or whether it was safe to speak to her of Norman, as alive.
+
+"Ye are doubtful of me, Miss Anne," said Esther. "I see it in your eye.
+What of this story do ye ken yoursel? Have ye heard it _all_?"
+
+Anne faltered.
+
+"I do not know, Esther. I have heard--"
+
+"Let me tell ye what _I_ ken," interrupted the nurse, "and then ye can
+give me your full trust. I claim nothing less from your mother's bairn.
+Miss Anne, your brother Norman lies under the reproach of a black
+crime--the blackest that man can be blotted wi'. Folk think that he is
+dead, and he is guilty; he is not either the one nor the other. He is a
+living and an innocent man!"
+
+Anne's whole frame thrilled with joy as the words were said.--Solemn as
+was the testimony of the dead, and deeply as her hapless brother's
+self-defence moved her, the words seemed surer and more hopeful when a
+living voice pronounced them.
+
+"I want you to tell me everything, Esther," she said, eagerly.--"I have
+Norman's letter, and my father's testimony, but, except these, I have
+heard little. This morning I was in despair, because I knew that Norman
+lived, and believed that he was guilty. Now, I can do anything. His
+innocence is all I care for. Tell me what can be done to prove his
+innocence--rather, I should say, tell me every circumstance,
+Esther--tell me all you know."
+
+"I care about his innocence also," said Esther. "Yes, living or dead, I
+care about that first. But, Miss Anne, ye dinna ken--ye canna fathom how
+dearly I care about himsel. He was laid in my arms a helpless, greeting
+bairn, the first day o' his life; wi' my ain hands I put his first
+mortal claes about him--my boy!--my gallant, mirthful boy! And to think
+of him spending his best years toiling in a strange country, wi' a dark
+end hanging ower him, his name cursed, and his lands lost!--and him an
+innocent man! Oh! I have thought upon it till my heart was like to
+burst!"
+
+"Why did you not tell me?" said Anne. "We have lost years! Esther, there
+might have been something done long ago, if you had only told me."
+
+"I durstna," said the nurse. "I was feared to whisper to mysel that he
+was living, for fear of trouble; but now, Miss Anne, now, ye have your
+work before ye--and a strange work it is for a young lady. But ye maunna
+shrink or fail."
+
+"I will not--do not fear me," said Anne. "Only tell me, Esther--tell me
+everything you know--let us lose no more time."
+
+"It's a lang story," said Esther, "and ye maun let me tell ye my ain
+way, Miss Anne, as I have thought it ower in my ain spirt, money a time,
+looking for this day. Maybe, if ye haena patience wi' me, I may mak it
+no sae clear. It's a lang story, and, to understand it right, ye bid to
+ken his nature. I maun begin at the beginning."
+
+Anne assented, and Esther went on. "Miss Anne, he was the sweetest bairn
+that was ever putten into mortal hands for earthly upbringing. I think I
+can see him before me yet; aye the head o' them a' in their wild plays,
+and never out o' mischief; but, for a' that, as gentle as a lamb. I used
+to tell them, when they came in to me wi' torn claes and dirty shoes,
+and blythe, black faces, that they were the plagues o' my life--eh! Miss
+Anne, the ill o' thae idle words--they were its very joy and sunshine;
+my blythe callants!--my bonnie, brave, pleasant bairns!
+
+"For Mr. Norman was alike in age wi' my Willie, and the twa were like
+brithers; they lay in the same cradle, and were nursed in the same
+arms--puir, feckless, withered arms, as they are noo!--and I had a
+conceit that they were like ane an ither, though Mr. Norman was head and
+shouthers higher than Willie, and had eyes like stars in a frosty nicht,
+and hair as dark as the clouds; and Willie was blue-e'ed and
+fair-haired, like his father before him. Ony way, they were like in
+spirit; the very look of them was heartsome in a house.
+
+"But there was ane thing special, Miss Anne, about your brother; a
+thought o' pleasure never entered his head; he had a sunshine within
+himsel that keepit him aye cheery; and the bits o' dawting, and good
+things, and makings o', that ither bairns fecht for, he heeded not,
+though I never saw a laddie that liket better the quietest mark of
+kindliness: only, if there was onything like a privilege or an honor, he
+would aye have it wared on the rest; no jealous and grudging, like as ye
+will see some bairns, that are learned to pretend to do the like, and no
+to be selfish; but with a blythe spark shining in his eye, enjoying the
+good thing, whatever it was, far mair than if he had gotten it himsel.
+
+"It might be because Mr. Lawrence was aye delicate, and bid to get his
+ain way; but the maist of it, without doubt, was in the nature. My ain
+Willie was a kindly callant, as need to be; but I have seen him (who was
+only a poor man's son, and no equal to the young Laird,) standing out
+against Mr. Lawrence in his pets, when Mr. Norman gaed way, in his
+blythe, frank manner, without sae much as a thought about ony pride o'
+his ain; and I have kent him, money a time, when ony o' them were in the
+wrang, taking the blame upon himsel.
+
+"Ye will think I am dwelling on thae auld stories ower lang, Miss Anne;
+but I see them--I think I can see them on Oranside, Mr. Lawrence
+sitting, white and thin, on the bank, watching them; and my ain twa, my
+beautiful laddies! as wild in their innocent play as twa foals on a lee;
+and the cut fingers, and the torn clothes, and the fa's into Oran: waes
+me! what were a' their bits o' tribulations but just another name for
+joy?
+
+"Weel, Mr. Lawrence died, as ye ken. If he was petted whiles, it was wi'
+sickness and suffering--pain that the young spirit could ill bear, and
+that awfu' cough; but he was a blessed bairn, and departed as calm and
+pleasant as an angel gaun hame--as truly he was, puir lamb!--out of a
+world that had held nothing but ill to him; and the other bairns dwined
+away from the house o' Merkland. Eh! Miss Anne, ane canna read thae sore
+and sorrowful dispensations! To think that there should be sae mony
+blythe families round about, wi' no ane wee head lifted out among them,
+and a' the Mistress's lilies gathered--a' but Mr. Norman; and ye wad
+have thought the rest had left a portion of their life to him, as that
+strange lassie, Jacky Morison, was saying to me out of a book of
+ballants, about three knights--aye as the ane was killed, the spirit and
+the strength of him entered into the other; but that's a fule story. So,
+as I was saying, ye might have thought it was so wi' Mr. Norman; for,
+the mair death there was in the house, the stronger and fuller of life
+_he_ grew. Ye may think, Miss Anne, how the Mistress's heart was bound
+up in her one son, growing among tears and troubles, like a strong young
+tree by the waterside.
+
+"And then she died hersel. He wad be haill eighteen then, maistly a man;
+and ye wad have thought his heart would burst. For months after that, he
+used to come in and sit beside me in the nursery, never speaking a word.
+We were the truest mourners in Merkland, him and me, and maybe it made
+us like ane anither a' the better.
+
+"It was a dreary year, that first year after your mother died; but there
+were drearier years to come. The twelvemonth was just out, when it began
+to be whispered in the countryside that Merkland was courting a new
+wife. I could have felled the first body that said it to me, and Mr.
+Norman flew upon Duncan, in the greatest passion I ever saw him in, for
+dauring to hint at sic a word; but the rumor rose, for a' that (folk
+said it was because Mr. Norman had been put aside from inheriting
+Merkland, because he was to take his uncle's name, and sae noo there was
+nae heir,) till I put it to the Laird my ain sel--ye may think it bauld,
+Miss Anne, but I had been about the house a' his married life.--That
+very night--for I wasna likely to bide wi' a strange woman in my
+mistress's seat--I was sorting my bits of odds and ends to gang away;
+and looking at you, sleeping in your wee bed, and murning for ye, an
+innocent lamb, left to the cold mercies of a stepmother, when Mr.
+Norman came in. I saw, by the white look of him, in a moment, that he
+had been hurt and wounded to the very heart (and so he was,) for his
+father had tell't him. Eh! Miss Anne, to think that he could tell the
+fine, manly, grown-up lad, that nae mortal could help being proud o';
+and that was liker being marriet himsel than hearing tell o' his father.
+
+"So he sat down by the fireside and covered his face wi' his hands, and
+did not say a word to me--only I heard him moaning to himsel, 'O,
+mother, mother!' Nae wonder--we were wearing our murnings still, and she
+had been but ae twelvemonth gone.
+
+"So the marriage-day came at last. I had flitted into this house the
+week afore--and there were mony folk at the wedding, only Mrs.
+Catherine, and Strathoran's lady, and some more, wouldna come; and when
+they sought Mr. Norman, he wasna to be found far or near--where think ye
+he spent that day, Miss Anne? at his mother's grave!
+
+"Ye're wearying on me--it's just because it's a' sae clear in my ain
+mind--I canna help it; but I am coming to the time noo. Mr. Norman ye
+ken, had an inheritance o' his ain by the mother's side. Your uncle, Mr.
+Rutherford, of Redheugh, was a bachelor gentleman, and died three or
+four years before your mother--and Mr. Norman was his heir. He was to
+take both the land and the name, and I have heard it was a better
+property than Merkland, only it was far south by this, on the ither side
+o' Edinburgh. Mr. Norman was to bide wi' his father till he came of age,
+and a sore and weary time it was, for this Mrs. Ross couldna bear the
+sicht of him, and he likit her as ill. I maistly wished for his ain sake
+that the time was come, though it was a sore thought to me that I was to
+have the sight o' him, gladdening my auld e'en (I wasna sae auld then
+either nae mair).
+
+"And at last his one-and-twentieth birthday came, and he gaed away. I
+did not see him after that for a whole year. The light of my eyes was
+ta'en from me, Miss Anne--I had little pleasure of my life, for both my
+boys were away.
+
+"Willie had served out his prenticeship, and was sailing second-mate in
+a timber ship to the Baltic; but that time he had ta'en a langer voyage,
+to India and thereaway, and didna came hame till the year was out. The
+very next day after Willie came, Mr. Norman arrived on a visit at
+Merkland, and the first body he came to see, after his father, was just
+my very sel--and what do ye think he had been devising in the kindness
+of his heart for my Willie? There was a schooner lying at Leith on sale,
+and Mr. Norman had made an offer for't, for Willie's sake, and no ither,
+to make him captain; and when they had rested themsells a week at hame,
+Mr. Norman took Willie away to Leith wi' him to see the ship. Weel, Miss
+Anne, every thing was bright for baith o' them when they gaed away; but
+when they got to Leith, and had near settled about the boat, my puir
+Willie, being maybe ower proud and uplifted about the honor, and the
+grand prospect, was careless o' himself: and the first word that came to
+me was, no that he was captain of Mr. Norman's ship, but that he was
+pressed, and ta'en away to some of the muckle English sea-towns on the
+east coast, to be a common man afore the mast in a man-o-war."
+
+Esther paused to wipe her eyes with her apron.
+
+"Eh, Miss Anne, thae sore and humbling providences! just when ane
+thought every thing was prosperous and full of promise to be cast down
+into the very depths--my heart was sick within me. I had no more spirit
+for onything, but just gaed about the house like a ghaist, and caredna
+to spin, as the lass says in the sang. Mr. Norman did his endeavor to
+free my puir laddie, but it couldna be--and ye may think what a clould
+fell upon me, dwelling here alane, and my son far away in the dangers o'
+the war, where, if he were spared, I couldna see him for years.
+
+"Mr. Norman came seldom back to Merkland after that. He liked Mrs. Ross
+but little at all times, and I think he reproached himsel for no being
+carefu' enough of Willie, though I never blamed him--no for a moment;
+but onyway he was altogether pairted from his ain auld hame--no that he
+forgot us; there was aye the tither bit present coming to me, at
+New-year's times, and his birth-days and the like; and many fine claes
+and toys, and things, to yoursel, Miss Anne, that ye didna get the half
+o'--
+
+"So three years ran out, and ane day when I happened to be up at
+Merkland, on some errand concerning yoursel, ye came, to me, Miss Anne,
+wi' a paper in your hand, to let me hear ye read (ye were six years auld
+then.) So I got the paper--ye had slipped it out o' the lockit book-case
+in the library, the time your papa was writing a letter, and didna see
+ye. I mind the very words ye said--because I likit to see the
+papers--and so I did, to see what word there was about the war, and if
+there was ony tidings of Willie's ship. Sae I got it, and began to read
+it, the time Mr. Lewis and you were playing at my fit.
+
+"Eh! Miss Anne: I mind the bits of words that came in upon me now and
+then, when I was looking at that awful paper, as if I had heard them in
+a fever. There was the haill story of the murder in't; of how Mr. Norman
+and Mr. Aytoun had had a bitter quarrel the night before, and parted in
+anger--and how, the next morning. Mr. Aytoun was found lying dead in a
+lone place by a waterside--and how a man, gaun to his work, had met Mr.
+Norman coming, like from the same place, just about the time the deed
+bid to hae been dune--and there was mair than that still--a gun was
+found in the wood, and the gun was Mr. Norman's, and when the officers
+gaed to take him up, he had fled, no man kent whither. My e'en were
+reeling in my head, but I could read it for a' that--I didna lose a
+word; and in anither place there was mair news--the murderer, as they
+daured to ca' him, had been traced into a Holland boat, and there was
+certain word of it, that it was wrecked, and all on board lost, so he
+had come, they said, to speedy punishment. I ken not now, how I had
+strength to do it; but I rose up the moment I was done, and went down
+into the library mysel'--what cared I at that time, if I had met a' the
+leddies in the land?--to put it back secretly into the book-case again.
+Your father was sitting in the library, Miss Anne, a changed man; the
+white on his face was the white of death, and he was trembling like as
+with the cauld, and had the darkest woe in his e'e, that I ever looked
+upon. I put down the paper on the table, and he started, and looked up
+at me. There was never a word said between us; but we were equal in our
+terrible sorrow. He kent that, and so did I.
+
+"I know not how I gaed hame that day; it was a bonnie day in June, but I
+thought that the sky, and the earth, and the trees, were a' black alike,
+and the running of the Oran was hoarse and loud, like the wild sea that
+was flowing over my dear, dear bairn. It was before my eyes night and
+day, sleeping and waking. I kent he couldna have done it out of evil
+counsel or malice, but he might have done it in passion. The sinking
+ship, and the storm, and the black sky, and my pleasant laddie in the
+midst, wi' bluid on his hand, and despair in his soul; oh, Miss Anne!
+
+"A month past in that way. I dauredna face Merkland, and he never came
+near me, and I thought not there was any hope for Mr. Norman; I never
+doubted he was dead. In the beginning of July, I got a letter from
+Willie, telling me his ship was lying in Leith Roads, and I was to come
+and see him. So I put up a bit bundle, and took some lying siller, and
+set out upon the road. I wanted to buy some bits of things the puir
+laddie needed, and so I couldna afford to tak the coach, but walked
+every step, and a weary road it was. So Willie met me in my cousin's
+house in the Citadel, and whenever our first meeting was ower, he came
+after me to the room I was to sleep in, and shut the door, and I saw
+there was trouble in his face. So I did not doubt he had heard.
+'Mother,' he said to me, 'I have news to tell you.'
+
+"'Oh, Willie!' said I. 'I ken, I ken; it has near broken my heart.'
+
+"So Willie went to the door again, and saw it was safe shut, and said
+he, 'Mother, what do ye ken?'
+
+"'About Mr. Norman, my dear laddie,' said I; 'that he has been left to
+himself, and done a terrible crime, and died a terrible death. Oh, that
+we had but kent that he repented; oh, that we had ony token that the
+Lord had visited his soul.'
+
+"'Mother,' said Willie, very low, 'do ye need me to tell you that he
+didna do it? Do you no ken that yoursel? O, mother! mother! him that
+wouldna have harmed the worm at his fit.'
+
+"'Ane disna ken--ane canna tell,' said I; 'he never did it wi' purpose
+and counsel, Willie; but he may have been beguiled by passion. God send
+that it hasna been counted to him.'
+
+"'Mother,' said Willie. 'Whisht! mind that a precious life is hinging
+on't. I have seen Mr. Norman.'
+
+"Miss Anne, I thought I would have fa'en at his feet, for what could I
+think, but that it was the unquiet spirit my puir laddie had seen.
+
+"'Mother,' said Willie, 'God has saved him out o' the sea, near by a
+miracle. Mr. Norman is a living man, and an innocent man. The hand that
+saved him will clear him in its ain guid time; but he bade me tell you.
+He couldna bear, he said, that folk that had kent him, and likit him
+weel should think he had done that crime; and he minded me that folk
+could pray for a living man, and couldna for a dead, and bade me tell
+you, mother.'
+
+"'O, Willie!' said I, 'wherefore did he flee?--the right would have been
+proved, if he had but waited for the trial.'
+
+"'I canna tell ye, mother,' said Willie, 'but he said every thing was
+against him; and it was borne in on my mind, that he knew wha had dune
+the deed, and that it was ane he likit weel and was willing to suffer
+for--ye ken his nature--but mind, that was only a fancy o' my ain, for
+he did not mint a word of it to me.'
+
+"'And where was he, Willie?' said I, 'where was my dear laddie?--was he
+out of peril?"
+
+"'It was in a town on the Holland coast,' said Willie, 'a bit sma place,
+less than Portoran. They had travelled there on fit, from the place
+where the boat was cast away; and Mr. Norman was waiting till there
+should be some ship sailing from Rotterdam to India. He said to me,
+mother, that he would never daur write hame again; but if he died he
+would cause that word should be sent baith to Merkland and you--but as
+lang as ye didna hear, ye were to mind and pray for him, as a living and
+sorrowful man, and no to think he was dead.'
+
+"'My laddie!' said I, 'my dear bairn!--oh, that the Lord would bring
+forth His righteousness as the noonday, and His judgment as the morning
+light. Ye said _they_, Willie--was there onybody wi' him?'
+
+"'Yes, mother,' said Willie; 'Mr. Norman was married the nicht before he
+fled, and there was a young lady with him. She didna belang about
+Strathoran--I never saw her before, but Mr. Norman said that in the
+wreck, she was braver than him, though she was a bit genty,
+delicate-looking thing. Mr. Norman took me in to see her, and tell't her
+I was his foster-brother and friend. He is aye like himsel, thinking on
+pleasuring me, in the midst o' a' his ain trouble--and she gaed me her
+hand wi' a sorrowful smile, that made me like to greet--and whiles when
+he was speaking to me, when his grief was like to get the better of him,
+she put her bit little hand on his arm, and said, "Norman, Norman," and
+then he aye calmed down again.'
+
+"So that was a' that Willie had to tell, and in little mair than a week
+after that, his ship sailed again, and when I was on my road hame, I
+went first of a' to the place where the deed was done. Its on the south
+side o' the Firth, far down--but I could find out naething there, except
+that everybody blamed Mr. Norman, and naebody would believe but what he
+was the murderer.
+
+"And since then, Miss Anne--it's seventeen years past in the last
+July--I have been a bereaved woman, for Willie never came hame but ance,
+when the war was ended, and that was just for a while, for he had
+pleased his captain unco weel, and was made gunner in the ship, and he
+had got used wi' their life, and liked it, so he just gaed back. He said
+to me, I mind, that he might aye be in the way of hearing tidings of Mr.
+Norman, and would come hame without delay if there was ony guid word.
+But word, guid or bad, there has been nane since that time, Miss Anne; a
+weary time it has been to me--but your brother is a living man, and the
+work is not too late."
+
+"What can be done?" said Anne; "what can be done?"
+
+She felt an impulse to rise and hurry to the work at once. She felt it a
+sin to lose a moment. Yet all the difficulties rose up before her. What
+steps to take--what to do!
+
+"Miss Anne," said Esther; "I have pondered it, and ower again pondered
+it in my ain mind since I came hame frae that weary journey, and often I
+have been on the point of gaun away back again, to see if I could hear
+onything mair. But what I would bid ye do, would be to gang, or to get
+some of thae keen writer chiels to gang, cannily, without letting on
+what they want, to do their endeavor to find out if onybody else in that
+countryside had an ill-will at Mr. Aytoun: he was a wild man, I heard,
+and nae doubt had enemies--and if ony other man had been seen leaving
+the wood that awful morning bye Mr. Norman. There's been a lang time
+lost, but I've thought often, it might maybe put the real sinner aff his
+guard, and so he micht be easier found. Miss Anne, that is the way, sae
+far as I can see. Ye maun try and find the true man that did it, living
+or dead."
+
+"And bring disgrace and ruin into some other peaceful family, Esther,"
+said Anne, sadly. "It is a terrible alternative!"
+
+"Miss Anne," said Esther, "my dear laddie Norman maun be saved, if I
+should gang away mysel. I aye waited for you. I had no thought ye wad
+falter. The work is a sore and painful work, but if ye will not do it,
+that have better power, I will try myself."
+
+"I had no thought of faltering, Esther," said Anne. "I only said it was
+a very sad and terrible alternative, and so it is--if William was
+correct--if we are to endeavor to prove the guilt of one whom Norman was
+willing to sacrifice name and fame for, it is only so much the more
+painful. Yet I do not falter--you say truly, Norman must be saved--if it
+is within human power to clear his name, he shall be saved. But, oh! for
+guidance--for wisdom!"
+
+When Anne left the house, Esther accompanied her to the door, earnestly
+urging upon her the necessity of losing no time. To lose no time!--no,
+surely; when, for all Alice Aytoun's sunny lifetime, Norman had been an
+outcast and an exile.
+
+And the "Marion!"--who was this who had not deserted him in the midnight
+of his calamity? this who had been bolder amidst the perils of the wreck
+than he, and who had gone with him to the unknown far country, the
+outcast's wife? Anne's imagination no longer pictured him alone, abroad
+beneath sweeping blast and tempest. A calmer air stole over the picture.
+It might be from some humble toiling home--not bright, yet with a
+chastened sunshine of hope and patience about it still--that the tidings
+of restored honor and fortune should call the exile, and the exile's
+household, rejoicing to their own land.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+Lewis Ross found but a cold welcome at the Tower from its aged mistress.
+Why she addressed him with so much reserve, and without even the
+familiar harshness of her usual manner, Lewis could not understand, and
+it roused his indignation mightily. He, an independent man, a landed
+proprietor of influence, a travelled, educated gentleman, to be
+over-borne by the caprices and prejudices of a set of old women! His
+dignity was hurt, his petulant pride roused. He certainly _was_
+conscious of doing simple Alice Aytoun some considerable honor, and did
+not fancy there was anything unnatural in his mother thinking that he
+might have done better--but to control his liberty--to think that by all
+this coldness and discouragement, they could change the current of his
+inclination and affections--it was quite too much. Lewis did not feel by
+any means inclined to submit to it. He felt, too, that Archibald
+Sutherland shrank from his not very delicate questionings, and that,
+beyond all doubt, he himself, Lewis Ross, of Merkland, important person
+as he was, was decidedly _de trop_ in the Tower.
+
+Even Alice felt it, as she sat in her corner by the window, that
+delicate embroidery, which she wished to finish for a cap to Mrs.
+Catherine, before she returned home, trembling in her small fingers, and
+her heart beating loud and unsteadily. Mrs. Catherine had been so tender
+to herself this morning, almost as if she knew--it was so strange that
+she should be cold to Lewis. Mrs. Catherine left the room for a moment:
+Lewis approached the window, and whispered a petition, that she would
+meet him at "the little gate." Alice did not say no. "Immediately,"
+whispered Lewis. "I have a great deal to say to you."
+
+Alice laid down her embroidery, and leaving the room, stole tremulously
+up stairs, to put on her bonnet and shawl, and steal tremulously down
+again, and out to her first tryste. The little gate stood on a shady
+by-way, or "loaning," which ran by Oranside through the grounds of
+Strathoran and the Tower. Lewis joined her immediately. He had much to
+say to her--much that was very pleasant to hear, if it was not very
+wise, nor even very connected and relevant, for Lewis, spite of his
+boyish pride and self importance, felt truly and deeply, so far as
+little Alice was concerned, and had not escaped the ameliorating effect
+of that influence, which, according to the gay old epicurean of our
+Scottish ballad-writers, "gives one an air, and even improves the
+mind."--The youthful couple wandered through the loaning, unconscious in
+their own dreamy happiness of the chill wind that swept through its high
+bare hedges, till nearly an hour had passed. But Alice suddenly saw,
+through the gap in the hedge, Miss Falconer riding quickly to the Tower;
+she came, by appointment, to bid Alice good-by, and so that most
+pleasant ramble must, of necessity, be terminated. Alice accompanied
+Lewis a little further down the lane, lest Marjory's quick eye should
+discover him, and then they parted.
+
+She was to leave the Tower in a week; but too pleasantly absorbed to
+think even of that, Alice went lightly along the dim loaning, with its
+high rustling hedges, and borders of wet herbage. Only one little grief
+lay within the glad heart, which began to throb now with deeper
+happiness--Anne; why would not Lewis Ross's sister acknowledge, last
+night her agitated, shame-faced, simple embrace? It was the only way
+which Alice could think of, for intimating to Anne the connexion now
+formed between them; and she trembled again, to remember the cold hand
+that had been laid upon her head, the look of sharp silent pain, that
+had fallen upon Lewis and herself as they stood together, in the first
+confidence of their betrothal--Anne, who had always been so kind and
+gentle to her! It made Alice uneasy, as she went dreamily forward, until
+brighter imaginations came to the rescue, and Anne's neglect sank into
+the background, in presence of that more immediate sunshine, the warmer
+devotion of Lewis.
+
+Loud gay voices startled her, when she had nearly reached the little
+gate, and looking up, she saw a couple of gentlemen approaching, whom
+she immediately knew to belong to Lord Gillravidge's not very orderly
+household at Strathoran. The aforesaid little gate was the boundary of
+Mrs. Catherine's property, so Alice was then in the grounds of
+Strathoran--the gentlemen were returning home. Alice proceeded quickly,
+eager to pass them, for their loud tone startled her, and she was near
+enough to hear a rude compliment aimed at herself, which sent the
+womanly blood to her cheek in indignation. They met at last, and
+suddenly extending their arms, the strangers barred her passage. Little
+Alice's heart beat like a frightened bird. She ran to each side of the
+road, only to shrink back again from the rude hands extended towards
+her; she looked back to see if there was any chance in flight, she
+lifted her simple face imploringly to them, and said; "Pray, let me
+pass; pray, gentlemen, let me pass." They laughed at her; poor little
+Alice was in despair.
+
+One of the strangers was the "hairy fule," who had visited Mrs.
+Catherine. Jacky's expressive description of him: "A man, dressed like a
+gentleman," was emphatically correct. The other was a simple, foolish,
+fair-haired lad, who, besides some boyish admiration of the pretty girl,
+thought this interruption of her progress a pleasant frolic, and good
+fun. There was no other way of entering the precincts of the Tower,
+except by the gap in the hedge, which the timid Alice did not dare to
+venture on, and so she renewed her prayer. "Pray, let me go on; pray,
+gentlemen, let me pass."
+
+A crash of the boughs behind her, made Alice turn her head.--Marjory
+Falconer, riding-whip in hand, came springing through the gap. "What is
+the matter, Alice?" cried Miss Falconer; "who obstructs you? Gentlemen,
+be so good as give way."
+
+The gentlemen laughed. The house of Falconer, like the house of Seton in
+old days, was of prompt ire, and its sole daughter did it no discredit.
+"This is great impertinence," exclaimed Marjory; "pass immediately,
+or--" she gave an emphatic flourish of her whip.
+
+A louder laugh than before bade her defiance; in another moment an
+unhesitating cut of the ready whip made the younger of the two spring
+aside. Alice flew past, and Marjory lingered for an instant to sweep a
+few short, sharp lashes over the amazed Fitzherbert, whose strange
+grimace of rage sent his young comrade into a fit of laughter, and
+earned for Marjory a full forgiveness of his own individual stroke.
+"There!" cried Marjory Falconer, as she closed the gate behind her, her
+face shining with mingled mirth and anger. "You can boast that you have
+had the honor of being horse-whipped by a lady."
+
+Little Alice was running on, in a great tremor, to the Tower.--"What is
+the matter?" said her deliverer, laughing, as she overtook her. "What a
+trembling, frightened bird you are, little Alice Aytoun. Why, we have
+had an adventure: only, to be correct, it should have been Lewis Ross
+who delivered you, and not I: is it so? Ah, I am afraid he has been
+doing damage here, this same Lewis Ross. It is a great shame--these men
+monopolize everything; one cannot even get a nice little girl kept to
+oneself."
+
+Alice drew herself up. It was not quite proper that she, the head elect
+of an important house like Merkland, with a shadow of matronly dignity
+upon her fair brow already, should be spoken of as a little girl. "I was
+so glad you came, Miss Falconer. It was very foolish, perhaps; but they
+frightened me."
+
+"And you had no whip, even if you had been bold enough to use it," said
+Miss Falconer, laughing, as she gathered up the train of her
+riding-habit, which had escaped from her hand, and bore sundry marks (no
+uncommon thing, however) of its contact with the damp path. "You may be
+thankful it was my indecorous, unfeminine self, and not any of the
+proprieties. Suppose it had been Jeannie Coulter--why, they would have
+caught you both."
+
+"But Miss Coulter is a very nice girl; is she not?" said Alice.
+
+"Oh! exceedingly--as nice a girl as could be; and will be as
+good-looking, and proper, and sensible a Mrs. Walter Foreman as it will
+be possible to find in the country; as proper, and not quite so
+good-looking, and more sensible, than you will be, when you are Mrs.
+Lewis Ross; for she has come to years of discretion, you know, and you
+are only a little girl."
+
+Alice did not like all this. "I wonder at you, Miss Falconer! I am sure
+it is far better to be what you call proper than--" Alice hesitated; "I
+mean, no one thinks Mrs. Catherine, and Mrs. Coulter, and Miss Ross
+weak, because they are always like what ladies should be."
+
+Miss Falconer laughed. "Well done, my little Mentor; but, for all that,
+confess that I was of more service to-day, with my good stout arm, than
+if I had been always like what ladies should be. Miss Lumsden is staying
+with me at the Craig: I had a bold purpose of getting my poor mother's
+old phæton hunted up, and driving her over to see you; but we cannot
+compass a vehicle, we Falconers, so I had to give it up. It is just as
+well. Miss Lumsden (she's John Lumsden's sister, of Portoran,) would
+have been shocked. I shall take your advice, little Miss Aytoun; I shall
+abstain from shocking people unnecessarily, after this, when I can help
+it."
+
+This was better: the little matron elect was pleased to have her advice
+taken, and so ventured further. "And, Miss Falconer, don't be
+angry--wouldn't it be better not to speak so? I don't like--I mean Anne
+Ross does not like--she says it makes foolish people laugh, and be
+impertinent."
+
+Miss Falconer's face became crimson. Miss Falconer drew up her tall,
+handsome figure, to its full height, and looked haughty for a moment.
+Alice was afraid.
+
+"There! that will do. You will be able to give gentle reproofs,
+by-and-by, beautifully: only you must not experiment on me much, you
+know, lest I should grow angry. No, no; do not lift up those blue eyes
+of yours so pitifully. I am not angry now--but I am sometimes, and I
+should not like you to see me so."
+
+The straightforward little Alice looked up in wonder, fancying that the
+blunt, strong, unschooled mind beside her, might be in the habit of
+giving way to ungovernable and wild fits of passion, such as she had
+read of; it was all a mistake. Marjory Falconer was by no means so rude
+and unfeminine as she gave herself credit for being, and had bitter
+compunctions of outraged delicacy sometimes, after those masculine
+speeches, which revenged her womanhood completely. But the little world
+of Strathoran did not know that--did not know either how the strong and
+healthful spirit of the motherless, ill-educated girl was forcing itself
+through a rough process of development, and, like other strong plants,
+was rank and wild in its growth, and needed vigorous pruning--pruning
+which it would not fail, by-and-by, to manage for itself, with an
+unhesitating hand.
+
+So the youthful people of Strathoran laughed, and the elders hung back,
+and called her improper and unfeminine; and thus the original evil was
+increased by the grievance of which she herself complained; she was left
+to the company of men--men, moreover, of that rude, uncultured,
+sportsman class, her own superiority over whom she felt bitterly, and
+asserted with characteristic vehemence.
+
+Alice Aytoun saw, when her visitor was gone, still more visibly than she
+had done in the morning, that Mrs. Catherine was sad.--She could not
+help observing the long, wistful looks bestowed upon herself--the
+hundred little indulgences which Mrs. Catherine gave her that day, as
+she would have given them to a sick child; and Alice wondered. These
+steadfast, compassionate looks became painful at last, and there was so
+great a chill of gravity and sadness about the stranger, Archibald
+Sutherland, that Alice, carried that tremulous happiness of hers--so
+much deeper, and yet so much less exuberant than it had been one little
+month ago--into her own pretty room.
+
+Bessie sat there sewing, and disconsolate. Johnnie Halflin had protested
+vehemently last night that "the Tower wadna be like itsel when she gaed
+away." The Falcon's Craig groom had particularly distinguished little
+Bessie by his notice. Mr. Foreman's lad from Portoran had bidden her "be
+sure and come soon back again," when he shook hands with her. Jacky,
+with her eldritch voice, had attempted to sing 'Bessie Bell' in her
+honor--and to leave it all! So little Bessie sat sentimental and
+despondent in the room, with some vision of breaking hearts, and never
+being happy again, while her youthful mistress sat down by the window,
+and looked over to Merkland.
+
+Ah! that breadth of hazy air which hovered between the house of Merkland
+and Alice Aytoun's chamber window, how full of beautiful shapes it
+was--and how instinct with gladness! Mrs. Catherine dined at four--never
+later, except on some very great and solemn occasion; and when dinner
+was over that day, and the darkness of the long January night had begun,
+Mrs. Catherine took her youthful kinswoman by the arm, and led her away
+from the dining-room without speaking. They did not go up stairs; they
+went away through that dim passage, and stopped at the door of the
+little room. Alice was terrified. Mrs. Catherine unlocked the door, drew
+the girl in with her, and closed it again in silence. Alice's heart
+began to beat loud, in awe and terror. What strange discipline was this?
+
+There was a fire burning brightly; the waning gloaming without gave the
+whins, that almost touched the window, a ghostly look. The gray crag
+above seemed to be looking in with a pale, withered, inquisitive face.
+Mrs. Catherine seated herself on one of the chairs and bade Alice take
+the other. The firelight fell warm and bright upon that fine dark
+portrait on the opposite wall. There was a lamp upon the table, but it
+was not lighted. Alice sat trembling, silent, apprehensive. What could
+Mrs. Catherine have to tell her?
+
+"Alison," said Mrs. Catherine, "do you see that picture?"
+
+"Yes," said Alice, timidly.
+
+The light was hovering about it, shooting now a spark of radiance into
+the eye, and now moving in a strange, fantastic smile upon the lip.
+Alice had heard from some of the visitors at the Tower of Mrs.
+Catherine's brother, and knew that this was his portrait.
+
+"Ye ken who it is?--my one brother, Sholto Douglas," said Mrs.
+Catherine. "Look at him well. Do you see how strong, and full of health,
+and strength, and youth that face is, Alison? Look at him well."
+
+Alice looked again wonderingly at the fine face of Sholto Douglas. To
+her, as to Archibald Sutherland, it looked loftily calm and pure,
+removed far above all the changeful hopes and fears of this "pleasing,
+anxious being."
+
+"Alison," said Mrs. Catherine, "I want to tell you the history of Sholto
+Douglas. Sit quiet, and do not tremble, but listen to me."
+
+Alice tried not to tremble--she could scarcely help it. The ghostly
+inquisitive crag, behind which she could fancy some malicious elf
+watching them--the dark whins pressing close to the window--the dreary
+sough of the wind as it swept through the bare trees without, and the
+long passages within, moaning so _eerie_ and spirit-like--the calm,
+unmoved face looking down from the wall--the comparative gloom of this
+sacred and mysterious apartment--she could not repress the involuntary
+thrill of fear and wonder.
+
+"Sholto Douglas was my one brother--we were the sole children of our
+name," said Mrs. Catherine, her utterance so slow and marked the while,
+that it was easy to recognise this as the history of her great sorrow,
+"and I cannot tell you how dear we were to one another. You are a bairn,
+yourself, of too gentle and quiet a spirit. You cannot know the loves
+and griefs of harsher natures.
+
+"We were never separate a day; we were bairns; we grew up into youth; we
+passed to manhood and to womanhood hand in hand. In his earliest flush
+of strength and manliness, Sholto was arrested on the way. I am a woman
+now laden with years, and drawing near to the grave, but, bairn, there
+is no earthly motive that would rouse me to any work or labor like the
+remembrance of my brother Sholto, that I left lying in foreign earth,
+thirty years ago.
+
+"That is not the matter I have to speak of first. When Sholto Douglas
+was in the strength of his youthful manhood he was trysted in solemn
+betrothal, whereof I myself was a witness, to Isabel Balfour, the mother
+of the young man who came to my house last night. She was a gentle,
+pleasant, gladsome girl, like your own self, Alison Aytoun. I liked her
+well before for her own sake, and I liked her dearly then for Sholto's.
+The day was set for the bridal--the whole kindred were stirred to do
+them honor--there was nothing in their way, but joy, and blessings, and
+prosperity, as we thought in our vain hope. Alison! between them there
+was the stern and sore shadow of death, and they knew it not!
+
+"A week before his bridal day, Sholto came home from Edinburgh a
+stricken man. I read it in the doctor's face that came to see him first.
+I saw it in the blood they took from him, till he was worn and wasted to
+a shadow. The burning heat of his inflammation was on him the day that
+should have been his bridal day--and when he rose from that bed it was
+only to sink into the terrible beauty of decline--with all its dreams of
+health, and wild hopes, and sick delusions. Be thankful, bairn, that no
+such weird is laid upon you.
+
+"I saw him dying before me day by day. Into my heart there had never
+mortal man entered but Sholto, my one brother; and in his prime of
+youth, with hopes thick about his brow like the clusters of his hair,
+was the Lord parting him from me. I could not hope--when Isabel leant
+upon his chair, and looked into his face--his cheek with its bright
+color, and his glorious e'en--and smiled and rejoiced, and said he would
+be well, I turned from her, my heart within me sick unto death. I knew
+he was a doomed man--I saw there was no hope.
+
+"They said at last that the air of some sunnier country would heal him
+of his trouble, and I prepared for the journey; anxiously I pleaded with
+Isabel to go with us, that he might have the comfort of her presence.
+Her kindred would not let her--she thought it not needful herself,
+neither did he: they would meet again, he said, so soon in health and
+gladness. I turned away from him--my heart was bursting. I kent they
+would never meet again--I kent that I took him away to die.
+
+"Alison, I saw the parting of the two. I saw the sick hope in Isabel
+Balfour's face, and the wan courage in Sholto's--their hearts misgave
+them at that moment. There is a shadow of fear upon all partings, and it
+was deepened upon theirs. As for me, my sky could not well be darker--it
+was not fear with me, but a deadly knowledge. I kent they would never
+meet again.
+
+"And so I went away with him--guarding the young man that had been so
+strong and healthful, from every blast of wind, as ye would guard a sick
+bairn. I went with him to Italy--to France--syne when he got no
+stronger--I took him away to that sunny island in the sea, where so many
+are sent to die. His doom was upon him--the light was in his eye more
+glorious than ever, the hectic was burning on his cheek. What was the
+soft air and the beautiful days, in comparison with the might of death.
+He died. I saw him laid in the cold earth of a foreign country, far away
+from the grave of his fathers, and turned in my desolation to come back
+to my own country, my lane.
+
+"Alison! you do not ken the blackness of darkness, the shadow of that
+terrible wing of death. Think of it--think of my desolate journey--think
+of my first parting with my one brother. Could ye have borne a woe like
+that?"
+
+Alice was weeping--she had forgot herself and Lewis for the moment. Her
+gentle heart could not fathom the stern depths of suffering, which still
+swelled in Mrs. Catherine's larger spirit, but she recognized the
+sovereignty of grief, and answered with her tears:
+
+"And there was the bride to come home to--the desolate bride, that had
+been dreaming vain dreams of pleasantness and hope to come. A year
+before you would have thought that if ever there were two fated to a
+bountiful and gladsome lot, it was Sholto Douglas and his trysted bride.
+Now, she was stricken down in her first agony, and he was lying in his
+stranger grave.
+
+"Know you, Alison, that there are woes like that wherever there are
+living men?--that there is some shadow on every lot, how fair soever,
+may be its beginning?--that even the like of you, in your youth and
+smiles, have a weird to watch and weep through, every one of you for her
+own self, and not another?"
+
+Alice looked up--the tears stealing over her cheeks, the "hysterica
+passio" swelling up in its "climbing sorrow" in her tightened breast.
+Her blue eyes looked fearfully and anxiously in Mrs. Catherine's face.
+This most sad history, Alice felt, was the preface of some personal evil
+to herself, some misfortune to Lewis. She could not speak--she only
+looked imploringly in sad fear and wonder into the face of her
+kinswoman.
+
+"My poor bairn!" said Mrs. Catherine, "you can think how Isabel mourned
+in her dark solitude? ye can feel for Isabel?"
+
+Alice started up, all her gay hopes and girlish happiness floating away
+before that blast, as such light things will float, and threw herself
+unconsciously at Mrs. Catherine's feet, kneeling there in incoherent
+grief and terror, and burying her fair head in the lap of her kinswoman:
+"What is it--what is it? I will bear it--tell me what it is."
+
+Mrs. Catherine's hand lay upon her fair hair in grave kindness. Mrs.
+Catherine bent down. "Alison! wherefore did ye not tell me of this
+unhappy tryste, that has been made between Lewis Ross and you?"
+
+Alice could not look up; trembling through all her slight figure, she
+waited for the next words.
+
+"My bairn! my poor fatherless bairn! if there was but any weight on my
+gray head that could keep off this sore stroke from your's! It is your
+appointed weird; ye must be strong, and listen to me. In the fulness of
+their joy and hope, it pleased the Lord to sunder for ever, in this
+world, the two I have told you of. Alison! there lies as deadly a bar
+between Lewis Ross and you; a bar that can never be passed, or lifted
+away in this life. You may hear of his welfare and prosperity, and he of
+yours; but in this world you must be strangers. It cannot last a day,
+this link between you; you cannot go a step further in this perilous
+road, Alison!"
+
+One great convulsive throb had shaken the slender frame that leant upon
+Mrs. Catherine's knee. There was a moment's pause, and then Alice rose,
+her tears dashed away, yet still noiselessly welling out, and a
+momentary flush of womanly pride inspiring her girlish figure. "He might
+have told me himself," she exclaimed, passionately. "He need not have
+been afraid; I--I am not so foolish--I can bear it--my heart will not
+break; he had no right to think--he might have told me himself!"
+
+Mrs. Catherine rose, and put her arm round her. The girl turned away,
+and endeavored to release herself; endeavoring vainly also to hide the
+large hot tears, that, spite of pride and resentment, were falling
+passionately again.
+
+"Alison," said Mrs. Catherine, "the youth did not ken himself. I cannot
+deny him justice, though I have little wish that you should think of him
+more. He did not know himself. It will fall as heavily on him as it does
+on you."
+
+Alice endeavored again to free herself, her tears flowing more gently,
+and the weight and oppression at once lifted off her youthful heart. So
+long as change did not come upon either herself or Lewis, what were
+external obstacles to them, in their triumphant hope and affection? But
+injured pride, and outraged feelings, made her reject Mrs. Catherine's
+offered kindness. Why should she interpose between these two?
+
+"Alison," said Mrs. Catherine, "listen to me. If Lewis's heart were
+brimming full with the greatest love that ever was in the heart of
+mortal man, and if you yourself were clinging to him as never woman
+clung before, yet must ye part: there is no hope--no choice. Before ever
+you were born, there was a deadly bar laid between Lewis Ross and you.
+It cannot be passed: there is no hand in this world that can lift it
+away: it is as unchangeable as death. Bairn, I am speaking to you most
+sorrowfully. I would not, for all my land, have laid this burden on your
+young head, if there had been either help or choice: there is none. You
+must be parted. Alison, look at me."
+
+Alison looked wistfully through her tears at the strongly-marked stern
+face, now so strangely moved and melted. She saw the steadfast,
+sorrowful, compassionate look, in which there was no hope; and, yielding
+to the pressure of the encircling arm, leaned her head upon Mrs.
+Catherine's shoulder, and nestled into her breast like a grieved child.
+
+By-and-by, they had returned to their original positions. Mrs. Catherine
+seated herself in her chair again, and Alice glided down passively, and
+lay like a broken lily, with her head hidden in Mrs. Catherine's lap.
+She was stunned and overpowered. The gentle heart lay in a kind of
+stupor, a dead and vacant sleep; she hardly felt it beat. The hope, and
+shame, and anger, the very wonder and grief, seemed gone; yet in her
+crushed apathy, she listened--the faintest word, uttered near, would not
+have been lost on the ears so nervously awake to every sound. She was
+waiting for further confirmation of the strange fate pronounced upon
+her.
+
+"Are you content?" said Mrs. Catherine, lifting the fair head tenderly
+in her hand--"are you content to believe me, my poor bairn, and to give
+up the gladness of your youth? Speak to me, Alison. I have maybe been
+harsher than I should be with your gentle nature, and I am asking you to
+make a sore sacrifice. For the sake of your kindly mother, Alice; for
+the sake of your honorable and upright brother James: for the memory's
+sake of your dead father, whom you never saw, I ask you to give up this
+stranger lad. He was nothing to you three months ago. They have
+nourished you, and cherished you, all the days of your life. Believe me,
+Alison, my bairn, that what I have told you is true; and, for their
+sake, give up this Lewis Ross. The bar between you is deadly and
+unchangeable: you cannot pass it over, were you to wait a lifetime."
+
+Alice lifted her wan cheek from Mrs. Catherine's knee, and looked up
+with sad, beseeching eyes. "What is it? Tell me what it is?"
+
+"It might do you ill, but it could not do you good," said Mrs.
+Catherine. "Take my word, Alison, and give me your promise. It is a
+thing that cannot change--that nothing in this world can make amends
+for. Alison, it is your weird--it has been laid on you, to prove what
+strength you have. You must make the sacrifice, hard though it be."
+
+"I have not any strength," murmured poor little Alice, in her plaintive,
+complaining voice: "I am not strong, and there is no one with me. Mrs.
+Catherine, what is it? Tell me what it is?"
+
+"Bairn," said Mrs. Catherine, "you would need to be strong to listen to
+the story, and I have withheld it to spare you. You are but a frail,
+young, silly thing, to have such troubles shadowing you; but it may be
+most merciful, in the end, to let you ken it all. Listen to me." Mrs.
+Catherine paused for a moment, and then resumed: "You have heard tell of
+your father, and how he died a violent death? Alison Aytoun, did you
+ever hear who it was that killed him?"
+
+Alice shivered, and glanced up in trembling wonder. Mrs. Catherine went
+on: "The name of him was Norman Rutherford. He was a young man, as
+gallant and as generous as ever breathed mortal breath. Why he was left
+to himself in so dreadful a way, I cannot tell. It will never be known
+on this earth. Alison Aytoun, are you hearing me? Norman Rutherford,
+your father's murderer, was the nearest kindred of Lewis Ross; he was
+his brother!"
+
+A long, low cry of pain, involuntary and unconscious, came from Alice
+Aytoun's lips. She turned from Mrs. Catherine's lap, and covered her
+face with her hands. There was nothing more to say or to hope; and the
+mist and film of her first sorrow blinded and stilled the girlish
+heart, which beat so gay and high when that dull morning rose.
+
+By-and-by, she had wandered up stairs, and was in her own room alone.
+The room was dim, and cheerless, and cold, she thought; and Alice laid
+herself down upon her bed, and hid her sad, white face in the pillow,
+and silently wept. The girlish light heart sank down under its sudden
+burthen, without another struggle. "I am not strong," murmured little
+Alice; "and there is no one with me."
+
+There was no one with her. Never before had any misfortune come to her
+youthful knowledge, which could not be shared. Now the shrinking,
+delicate spirit, half child, half woman, had entered into the very
+depths of a woe which must be borne alone. The dull, leaden darkness
+gathered round her; the tears flowed over her white cheek in a
+continuous stream; and into the dim, disconsolate air the plaintive
+young voice sounded sadly, instinctively calling on its mother's name.
+Alice was alone!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+When Anne entered Merkland after her visit to the nurse's cottage, and
+was proceeding, as usual to her own room, she was stopped by Duncan.
+
+"Miss Anne," said Duncan, significantly, "Merkland is in the parlor."
+
+"Well, Duncan," said Anne, "what of that? Does Lewis want me?"
+
+"Na, I'm no saying that," said the cautious Duncan; "but I just thought
+within mysel that maybe ye were wanting to see the Laird; and he's in
+the parlor, and so's the mistress. Mr. Lewis has been hame this
+half-hour."
+
+Anne comprehended. The clouds of the morning had broken into a storm,
+and Duncan, with whom "Mr. Lewis," partly as a child of his own
+training, and partly as the Laird of Merkland, was a person of the very
+highest importance, and not to be teased and incommoded by "a wheen
+woman," desired her interposition to receive the tempest upon her own
+head, and avert it from Lewis, as was the general wont, when Anne made
+her appearance in the midst of any quarrel between the mother and son.
+
+"I will return immediately, Duncan," she said, as she ran up stairs to
+take off her cloak and bonnet.
+
+Duncan turned away satisfied.
+
+"A wheen, silly, fuils o' women, as they are a', the haill sect o'
+them," he soliloquized, fretfully; "wearing the very life and pith out
+o'the lad, wi' their angers, and their makings o'. First the one and
+then the other. Ane would need lang tack o' patience that ventured to
+yoke wi' them, frae Job himsel, honest man, doun to Peter Hislop, the
+stock farmer at Wentrup Head. 'Deed, and the twa are in no manner
+unlike, when ane has a talent for similarities. They were baith rich in
+cattle, and had a jaud of a wife to the piece o' them. Clavering,
+ill-tongued randies, wearing out the lives of peaceable men."
+
+When Anne entered the room, she found Lewis pacing back and forward in
+it, in haste and anger, while Mrs. Ross sat leaning back in her chair
+with the air of a besieger, who has thrown his last bomb, and waits to
+see its effect.
+
+"I cannot believe it,--I will not believe it!" exclaimed Lewis, as Anne
+entered. "If it had been so, I should have heard it before. Oh! I know
+you could not have kept this pleasure from me so long, mother! and I
+declare to you that this stratagem--I say this unworthy stratagem--only
+strengthens my determination. Anne," continued Lewis, perceiving her as
+he turned, in his hasty progress from one end of the room to the other,
+"you have heard this story--this phantom of Norman--the murderer, as he
+is called--which my kind mother has conjured up to frighten me. Join
+with me in telling her it is not true--that we are not to be
+deceived--that we do not believe this!"
+
+Mrs. Ross endeavored to toss her head as contemptuously as was her
+wont--it would not do; the motion was spasmodic. She was reaping the
+fruit of her own training, and the ingratitude and rude anger of her
+only son, from whom, indeed, she did not deserve this, stung her to the
+heart.
+
+"Lewis," said Anne, "you are behaving very unjustly to your mother. Be
+calm, and do not give way to anger so unseemly."
+
+"Oh! do not interrupt him," said Mrs. Ross, "let him go on; it is
+pleasant to insult his mother."
+
+Lewis turned from her angrily.
+
+"This is not a time for any absurd punctilio, Anne. Let me hear you say
+this is not true--this story--this scheme. I will not submit to it. Am I
+a boy, I wonder, that I am to be frightened by such a--"
+
+Mrs. Ross rose. The darling son--the only child--to turn on his mother
+thus!
+
+"Lewis!" she said, her features twitching, her voice husky. "Beware!"
+
+"Lewis!" said Anne; "I cannot bear this either; it is mere madness; sit
+down quietly and listen. Mother, I beg of you to sit down; forgive him
+this; he does not know--he cannot comprehend. Lewis, when your mother
+told you this very terrible story, she believed it true."
+
+Mrs. Ross had been regarding Anne, whose support she deserved as little
+as she did the insults of her son, with a face in which wonder and shame
+were strangely blended. Now she darted up a sharp, keen glance.
+
+"_Believed_ it true! This from you, Anne Ross--this from you!"
+
+"Bear with me, mother," exclaimed Anne; "and you, Lewis, be still and
+hear me. I believe with my whole heart that our brother, Norman
+Rutherford, is innocent of this terrible deed; but, in the judgment of
+the world, he is condemned long years ago. Every one thinks him guilty.
+Not your mother only, but Mrs. Catherine, and all who know the story,
+except myself and one other. Lewis, I do not say how unbecoming and
+unnatural this passion is, but your mother has only told you, what I
+have been eager to tell you through all these anxious months. So far as
+common belief goes, you have heard rightly."
+
+"But it is not true," said Lewis, doggedly, throwing himself into a
+chair; "you admit it is not true. A scheme--a--"
+
+"Mother, leave this to me," cried Anne, trembling as she saw the
+contortion of Mrs. Ross's face. "It is no scheme, Lewis. You do us cruel
+wrong in using such a word. It is true in every particular, but in the
+one which has given it all its bitterness to me. It is not true that
+Norman is guilty. It is true, that for seventeen years--for all Alice
+Aytoun's sunny lifetime--he has been expiating, in a foreign country,
+the crime of another man. Do not sneer, mother; I cannot bear it. Do not
+turn away Lewis; I will not be disbelieved. My brother Norman is
+innocent; the two hearts that knew him, and loved him best, have put
+their seal upon his truth, one bearing witness in the clearsightedness
+of nearly approaching death, the other cherishing it in her inmost heart
+as the one hope of her waning years. Lewis, here is your father's latest
+words and testimony. Read it, and believe that it is true."
+
+"What is true?" exclaimed Lewis, starting up, without, however, taking
+the letters which Anne held out to him. "What is the meaning of all
+this, Anne? My mother tells me first, that this Norman killed the father
+of Alice Aytoun, and then you come in, and tell me all the story is
+true, and yet that Norman is innocent; what do you mean? I am not to be
+treated as a schoolboy. I shall not submit to these mysteries; tell me
+plainly what you mean."
+
+Anne looked anxiously at Mrs. Ross. "Have you told him all? Does he know
+all, mother?"
+
+"I don't understand you, Anne," said Mrs. Ross, sullenly.
+
+Anne stood between them, baited by both, her patience nearly breaking
+down. "Does he know all?" she repeated; "does he know that Norman is
+alive? Lewis, have you heard that?"
+
+Lewis walked through the room hastily, and did not answer. He had heard
+it--it was clear; and Anne fancied that, like herself, the thousand
+apprehensions connected with that secret were overwhelming Lewis, that
+grief and fear for their unhappy brother were swelling up in his heart,
+too great for speech.
+
+"Lewis," she continued, "you ask me what I mean--I will tell you. This
+morning, and for many a sorrowful and dreary morning before this, I knew
+the history of Norman, as you know it now. I knew that the stain of a
+great crime was upon his name. I believed that Alice Aytoun's father had
+fallen by his hand. I knew that justice had set its terrible mark upon
+him, and that the world thought him already dead; yet, all the while, I
+knew he was alive, still wandering, Cain-like, with his guilt and his
+condemnation upon his head. Lewis! since Alice Aytoun came to the Tower,
+this has haunted me night and day, waking and sleeping; it has tinged my
+every thought and every dream; it has never left my mind for an hour.
+You thought I wished to put obstacles between Alice Aytoun and you; you
+were right, I did so. I endeavored in every possible way to keep you
+separate. I schemed as I never schemed before; you know now the reason.
+I wanted to preserve you both; to save her young heart from this cloud,
+and to keep you even from knowing it, because it was your mother's wish
+you should not know. Our plans are not the best, and Providence has
+mercifully baulked mine. Lewis, with you I am sure, as with me, the one
+circumstance in Norman's calamity that makes it bitter, is the crime.
+What happened last night, driving me, as it did, almost to absolute
+despair, drove me also to exertion. And this morning, I found these
+precious letters--look at them, Lewis--which clear Norman, and which
+leave to us my father's dying charge, to redeem the fame of his unjustly
+accused son. Lewis, take the letters; they are addressed to you no less
+than to me, and if we but discharge our trust faithfully, all will be
+well."
+
+Something moved by Anne's earnestness, Lewis took the letters, and sat
+down to examine them. Anne threw herself, exhausted, into a chair; the
+mental excitement of the morning, and its sudden transition from despair
+to hope, had worn her out. Mrs. Ross glanced from the one to the other
+angrily, and cast keen glances at the yellow tear-blotted letters in her
+son's hand. He had laid down his father's cover, and was reading with
+kindred keenness, Norman's incoherent self-defence. The young man's
+sharp, cold scrutiny, was little like that of one, whose present
+happiness depended upon the truth of this; his steady hand, and
+business-like demeanor, revealed no deeper interest in that cry of
+agony, than if its writer had been the merest stranger, and not a
+much-suffering brother. Anne watched him also, with compressed lips, and
+anxious eyes; she thought his indifference firmness, or tried to think
+so, though very differently, she knew, that utterance of Norman's
+distress had entered into her own heart.
+
+He finished the letters; but there came no exclamation of hope or
+thanksgiving from the steady lip of Lewis. He folded them up carefully,
+and laid them on the table. Anne waited in breathless anxiety. "Well,"
+he said, coldly, "and what do you think you can make of these?"
+
+"Lewis!" exclaimed Anne.
+
+"Ah! I thought you would be disappointed. It's not at all wonderful that
+you should think these letters could do a mighty deal of themselves, for
+you've no experience, you know nothing of the world; and yet, I thought
+you had better sense, Anne. They're not worth a rush."
+
+Anne looked at him in amazement; she would not understand his meaning.
+
+"They prove nothing--nothing in this world," said Lewis, with some
+impatience. "An incoherent attempt to deny a crime, which nobody could
+suppose he would like to acknowledge, and simply my father's belief,
+that what his son said was true, to support it; it is quite nonsense,
+Anne; nothing could be founded upon such things."
+
+"Yes; I hope you will see the folly of that romantic stuff," said Mrs.
+Ross; "a man sacrificing himself entirely, rather than venture to stand
+a trial! Depend upon it, Anne Ross, your brother Norman had his senses
+better about him than you; he fled, because he knew that his only chance
+of escape was in flight, you may take my word for that. And now that you
+are satisfied, Lewis; now that you have received the testimony of some
+one you can credit, that your mother has not told you a lie; you will
+not hesitate, I trust, to take the only honorable step that remains for
+you, and immediately give up your very foolish engagement with this
+girl."
+
+Lewis looked up indignantly.
+
+"I am old enough certainly to manage that for myself. I shall make my
+own decision."
+
+Mrs. Ross rose, lowering in sullen anger, and left the room; and Anne,
+pale and excited, rose to claim her letters. The youth's heart was moved
+within Lewis Ross at last, in spite of all his premature prudence, and
+worldly wisdom; he met his sister's inquisitive, searching look, with
+his own face more subdued and milder.
+
+"Well, Anne?"
+
+Anne lifted the letters.
+
+"Is it possible, Lewis--is it possible, that you can have read these,
+and remain unconvinced? Has my father's charge no weight with you? Has
+Norman's distress no power? I cannot believe it--you feel as I do,
+Lewis, that Norman is not guilty."
+
+"I don't know, Anne--I can't see it," said Lewis, leaning his head on
+his hand. "Here is every chance against him--every circumstance, and
+nothing in his favor but these two incoherent rambling letters. He was
+an excitable nervous person himself, and my father was an old man,
+almost in his dotage. I have my mother's authority for saying so--and
+what is their mere assertion against all the evidence?"
+
+"What evidence, Lewis?"
+
+"Oh, I have seen it all!" said Lewis, waving his hand: "my mother had
+the papers ready for me when I came in; she has hoarded them up, I
+fancy, to let me have the pleasure. If you had not said it, Anne, I
+should never have believed that the Norman Rutherford she told me of was
+any brother of ours; but since he is--the evidence it seems to me is
+irresistible. No, I can't say these letters convince me. It may be all
+very well to maintain a friend's innocence to the world, but between
+ourselves, you know, I see nothing in them."
+
+Anne turned from him impatiently.
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Lewis, "upon my word you bait and badger a man till he
+does not know his own mind. What would you have me do, Anne? Shall I go
+away and labor to find this Norman, and beg him to take Merkland off my
+hands, and permit me to remain his very humble servant? What do you
+mean? what would you have me do?"
+
+"I would have you do the duty of a son and a brother," said Anne; "and
+if you will not do it, I warn you, Lewis, that I take this work upon
+myself, however unsuitable it may be for a woman. You have a special
+stake in it, Lewis--you must see that, till this mystery is cleared,
+Alice Aytoun is unapproachable to you; the brother of her father's
+accused murderer can be nothing to her, but a stranger whom she must
+shrink from and avoid. I know how this will crush poor Alice, but she is
+far too gentle and good a girl to go to any passionate extreme. You
+would speak of prejudice, and revenge, and arbitrary custom, Lewis: it
+is nonsense to say that; but were it only custom and prejudice, Alice
+will be ruled by it. She will not see you again."
+
+"Will she not?" exclaimed Lewis, triumphantly, "we shall soon see. I
+don't mean to do anything tragical or high-flown, Anne, there's an end
+of it. Thanks to the difference of name, Alice knows nothing of this,
+and I do not see the remotest occasion for her ever knowing. I shan't
+tell her certainly. I intend to write to her mother to-day--you need not
+look horrified--this shall not keep me back an hour. Why should it? _I_
+had no hand in her father's murder; and as for Norman, I am very sorry,
+but I cannot help him in any way. If he has not deserved this by his
+guilt, he has by his folly; and it's not to be expected, I fancy, that I
+should entirely sacrifice myself for the sake of a half-brother whom I
+never saw--more particularly as the chances are, that the sacrifice
+would do him no good, and only waste my time, and make me unhappy."
+
+"And have you no fear of Mrs. Aytoun and her son?" inquired Anne, in a
+low voice.
+
+"No; the difference of name is very fortunate--how should any one
+suppose that a Rutherford in the east was the brother of a Ross in the
+north? Besides, if they _had_ any suspicion, I hope they are
+sufficiently anxious about Alice and her happiness, to keep it to
+themselves. We are not in the age of feuds now, sister Anne: don't
+trouble yourself about it."
+
+"If we are past feuds, we are not past nature," said Anne, hastily.
+"Lewis, I saw Mrs. Catherine this morning. I could not rest till I had
+ascertained whether there was any hope, that Alice was not this man's
+child. Mrs. Catherine knew the reason of my inquiries and agitation, and
+exclaimed immediately that you must not see Alice again; before this
+time Alice knows all, and however you might hope to weaken the
+impression it will make upon her--and you could not succeed even in
+that, for Alice with all her gentleness would do nothing so abhorrent to
+natural feeling and universal opinion, were her heart to break--you know
+very well that it would be folly to attempt moving Mrs. Catherine.--She
+will not permit your engagement to continue, Lewis--you may be sure of
+that."
+
+Lewis burst forth into indignant exclamations: "Who dared to interfere
+between Alice and him? who would venture, for a crime done before her
+birth, to hinder their happiness?"
+
+"Lewis," said Anne, "this is quite useless. I do not want to interfere
+between Alice and you. I believe the great obstacle is removed, and that
+with but proper exertion on your own part, you may at once secure your
+purpose, and deliver our poor Norman; but, as for daring and venturing,
+would Mrs. Catherine hesitate, think you? would Alice Aytoun's brother
+be afraid? Lewis, you are mistaken: it may break poor Alice's girlish
+heart--far too young for such a weight--but it will not make her
+rebelious; it will lead her to no unwomanly extreme: she will submit!"
+
+Lewis was for a time passionate and loud, inveighing against them all
+for keeping him in ignorance, blaming Anne for telling Mrs. Catherine,
+and indulging in a thousand extravagances. Anne stood calmly beside him,
+and bore it all, too deeply bent on her own object to heed these
+effusions of passion.
+
+"And supposing it possible," exclaimed Lewis, sitting down again, after
+his passion had nearly exhausted itself--"supposing it possible to prove
+Norman innocent, what then? I don't see how my position is at all
+bettered. What will I have to offer Alice? Some poor thousand pounds,
+perhaps, that may be doled out to me as the younger brother's
+portion--no house, no certain means of living. I suppose you would have
+me get a school in Portoran, or apply for a situation in the Bank, or go
+into a writer's office in Edinburgh," continued Lewis, bitterly, "and
+think I was anticipating love in a cottage, when I spoke of Alice
+Aytoun!"
+
+Anne could have said much--could have begged and prayed him to believe
+that the landless Lewis Ross, who had saved his brother, would be a
+nobler man by far than the Laird of Merkland, who had left his nearest
+relative to languish out dishonored days in a strange country, uncared
+for and unsuccored: but she began to know better the material she had to
+work upon.
+
+"Norman has his own land, Lewis," she said. "Had he remained at home,
+and had all been well with him, you still would have inherited Merkland.
+I know that certainly."
+
+"Is it so?" said Lewis, eagerly. "If it is legally so--if the estate is
+settled on me to the exclusion of Norman, of course that puts the matter
+in quite a different aspect. And so you think he is innocent?"
+
+Lewis took the letters in his hand again.
+
+"I do not _think_ he is innocent, Lewis," said Anne. "I may take your
+licence of strong speaking, in respect to this. I never had a
+doubt--never a fear. I _felt_ that he was innocent. The joy was almost
+too much for me this morning. Lewis, do not think at all--open your
+heart to feel the agony of Norman's, and you will know that he is not
+guilty!"
+
+"Sit down, Anne," said Lewis, more gently. "I want to look at these
+letters again."
+
+Anne sat down. Lewis opened the papers and read them over carefully once
+more. He did not say any thing when he had finished, but remained for
+some time in silence. Their own internal force of truthfulness did not
+carry conviction to the cold, logical understanding of Lewis; he did not
+let his own heart have any influence in the judgment: he thought of
+legal evidence, not of moral certainty.
+
+"And what would you advise should be done?" he said at length, as he met
+Anne's eye.
+
+Anne repeated to him all the further particulars which she had learned
+from Esther Fleming, together with the nurse's suspicion that Norman
+knew who was the murderer, and was content thus far to suffer in his
+stead. Lewis's interest was excited by the idea of discovering the true
+criminal, but flagged again when Anne told him how bootless Esther's
+inquiries had been, and how widely spread was the conviction of Norman's
+guilt--and again he repeated, almost listlessly: "What would you have me
+do?"
+
+"I would have you go to this place yourself immediately, Lewis," said
+Anne. "I would have you set out at once without the loss of any more
+time, and yourself go among the people.--You will find many of them, no
+doubt, who remember the story--it is not of a kind to be forgotten. Act
+upon Esther's suggestion--endeavor to find the real criminal--go over
+the whole neighborhood--spare no labor--no trouble. It may be a work
+demanding much time and much patience. Never mind that, the result is
+worth the toil of a lifetime, and you, Lewis, you have a special stake
+in it--there is a definite reward for you."
+
+But the work, albeit he had a special stake in it, looked very different
+in the eyes of Lewis. He did not answer for some time, and then said:
+"It's entirely out of the question to go myself. I could not do it. I
+have neither time nor patience to expend so, but I'll tell you what I'll
+do, Anne--I'll write to Robert Ferguson--I saw him this morning leaving
+Woodsmuir to return to Edinburgh; he is a cool, shrewd, lawyer-like lad.
+I'll trust it to him."
+
+"But think of the danger to Norman in making this secret known,"
+exclaimed Anne.
+
+"We need not tell him that," said Lewis, "there is no occasion whatever
+for trusting him with that. He can have some hint of what has occurred
+lately, and that it is a matter of some importance to us. I will write
+to him to-day. Does that satisfy you, Anne?"
+
+There was no choice; she was compelled to be satisfied with it. The
+lawyer, no doubt, might manage it best, yet Anne had an instinctive
+confidence, in a search which should be guided, not by business-like
+acuteness alone, but by the loving energy of a heart which yearned over
+the outcast Norman, the desolate exiled brother. And Lewis spoke so
+coldly, "of _some_ importance"--how the strange limitation chilled her
+heart.
+
+"And I want you to do something for me in return, Anne," said Lewis,
+looking at his watch. "After dinner, come up with me to the Tower, and
+tell your story to Mrs. Catherine and Alice, your own way. You can do it
+better than I could, for you have more faith in it than I--altogether,"
+he continued, rising, with a laugh: "You are more a believing person
+than I am, I fancy, Anne--no doubt it is quite natural--you women
+receive whatever's presented to you--it's all very right that you
+should--but something more is required of _us_."
+
+Alas! poor Lewis! He did not know how incomparably higher that faculty
+of belief was than his meagre and poor calculations; nor could
+comprehend the instant and intuitive apprehension, which darted to its
+true conclusion at once, and left him weighing his sands of legal
+evidence so very far behind.
+
+The evening was gusty, wild and melancholy, one of those nights that
+make the fireside lights look doubly cheerful; and just as little Alice
+Aytoun crept disconsolately up stairs in the darkness, Lewis and Anne
+left Merkland for the Tower. They had not much conversation on the way,
+for Anne was busied, chalking out a plan of procedure for herself,
+should Robert Ferguson's mission fail, and Lewis had lighter fancies,
+unwillingly obscured by some tinge of the truths he had learned that
+day, to keep him silent. There were no lights in the accustomed windows
+when they reached the Tower. Mrs. Catherine's own sitting-room was dark,
+and from the windows of the dining-parlor, there came only the red
+glimmer of firelight. Archibald Sutherland sat there alone, as Mrs.
+Catherine and Alice had left him, and had been too deeply engaged with
+his own thoughts to heed the gathering darkness.
+
+"Mr. Archibald is in the dining-parlor," said Jacky, opening the door,
+as she spoke, to admit Lewis, and gliding back instantly to Anne's side.
+With natural delicacy, the servants had followed Mr. Ferguson's example,
+and when they could no longer call the broken man "Strathoran," returned
+to the kindly name of his boyhood.
+
+"And if ye please, Miss Anne," continued Jacky, looking up wistfully
+into Anne's face. "Mrs. Catherine is in the little room."
+
+Anne hesitated--Jacky's keen eyes were fixed upon her anxiously. "May I
+go in, I wonder, Jacky?"
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne--" began the girl.
+
+"What, Jacky?"
+
+"Miss Alice is no weel--I saw her gaun up to her ain room, slow and
+heavy. Mostly ye canna hear her foot, it's like a spirit's--the night it
+was dragging slow and sad-like, and I heard her say--"
+
+Jacky paused.
+
+"What did you hear her say?"
+
+"It was in her ain room--I wasna listening, Miss Anne, I just heard
+it--she said 'there is no one with me'--low, low--like as if she was in
+grief. Miss Anne, will ye go up to Miss Alice? There was naebody near
+her but me, and she wasna wanting me. Will ye go, Miss Anne?"
+
+Jacky's keen eyes was softened with an involuntary tear.
+
+"I must see Mrs. Catherine first," said Anne, passing on hurriedly to
+the little room. Jacky seated herself in the window-seat near the
+library-door, in meditative solitude; the strange, chivalrous girl's
+heart within her beating high with plans of help and aid to that
+gentle, weeping Alice, whom all the stronger spirits round her seemed
+instinctively to join in warding evil and trouble from.
+
+The door of the little room was at once opened to Anne, and she found
+Mrs. Catherine within, the trace of a tear even visible upon her sterner
+cheek.
+
+"The poor bairn, child!" she exclaimed. "The poor, bit, silly, gentle
+thing! I could almost have seen yourself suffering, sooner than her. If
+stronger folk feel it even more painfully, there is aye a kind of
+struggle with their sorrow; but yonder, there was no strength to make
+resistance, child. The trouble sank down, like a stone, to the bottom of
+the bairn's heart. I cannot get away from my eye the bit, wan,
+unresisting, hopeless look of her."
+
+"Mrs. Catherine!" exclaimed Anne, "I must go to her instantly. I bring
+hope. Do not look at me in anger. I am speaking words of truth and
+soberness: the matter does not stand as you think--as I thought this
+morning. Mrs. Catherine, Norman is innocent."
+
+Mrs. Catherine made an emphatic motion with her hand, as if commanding
+Anne to go on; and waited breathlessly.
+
+"Mrs, Catherine, I have his own words to build upon. I have the recorded
+conviction of my father. Do you think they could be deceived, to whom he
+was dearest upon earth? My father, Esther, Marion his wife, who went
+with him, they all believed him innocent--the last, by sharing his fate.
+You could not but believe his own words. He did not do it, Mrs.
+Catherine. He is innocent."
+
+Mrs. Catherine laid her hands upon Anne's shoulders, and gazed with
+earnest scrutiny into her face.
+
+"His own words--sharing his fate--what does the bairn mean? Child, I
+thought there was some other terror upon your mind, this morning, that
+ye did not tell me. Is Norman Rutherford alive?"
+
+"Mrs. Catherine, his secret is safe with you," said Anne, drawing the
+letters from her bosom. "Norman is alive, unjustly condemned, and
+innocent. We must prove that first: but take these, and let me go to
+Alice."
+
+"Sit down upon that seat, and wait," said Mrs. Catherine, peremptorily.
+"I must see the ground of your hope myself, before ye sicken the silly
+bairn with what may be but a false sunshine. Give me the papers, child."
+
+The lamp was speedily lighted, and Mrs. Catherine seated herself to
+examine them. How different was the keen interest inspiring the strong
+face which bent over them, the eyes that traced their incoherent lines
+so rapidly, from the cold examination of Lewis. How different the
+conclusion.
+
+"The Lord be thanked!" burst from Mrs. Catherine's lips, as she came to
+the end of Norman's letter. "The Lord, in His infinite tenderness, be
+thanked for the comfort. Gowan, what are ye lingering for? Go to the
+bairn, and give her the good news. It is meet that I should be alone.
+Hear ye, child, go to the bairn."
+
+Anne needed no urging--she left the room instantly, and hurried up
+stairs.
+
+Alice's gay bower was dark--the fire burning dull and low: the very
+flowers drooping like their mistress. Anne passed through the opened
+door hastily, to the still darker and chiller bed-chamber within, where
+she could see the girl's slight figure lying on the bed. Alice was
+roused by the approaching footsteps, and said, as Anne drew near her:
+
+"Not now, Bessie; leave me, I do not want you now."
+
+Anne advanced, and gently drew the hidden cheek from the wet pillow.
+
+"It is not Bessie," she said: "it is I, Alice, Anne Ross, your sister."
+
+Alice raised her head.
+
+"My sister! Ah! you do not know."
+
+Her hair was thrown back in a momentary attempt at pride, and then Alice
+hid her face again in her hands. It was as Mrs. Catherine said; the
+gentle little heart could offer no resistance to this dull, dead weight
+of sorrow.
+
+"I do know, Alice!" said Anne. "Look up now, and do not weep. Lewis is
+waiting to see you. Mrs. Catherine knows he is here--Alice!"
+
+"Is it not true?" whispered Alice; "is it not true? You would not call
+me Alice if it were true. Oh! Miss Ross, tell me."
+
+"It is not true; we have found out that we were wrong," said Anne,
+soothingly. "Rise, now, and let me be your maid instead of Bessie, and
+you shall hear it all when you are able."
+
+Alice had half risen, and was already clinging to Anne like a child.
+
+"Tell me now; I am able. Oh! Miss Ross, why did Mrs. Catherine tell me
+that? why did you let her? I could not bear it. If it were to come back
+again I should die--I know I should die!"
+
+Anne smiled sadly. And yet it might have been so; the gentle and weak
+may droop their heads like flowers, and die; the stronger must live on,
+bearing undying griefs through long lifetimes: it is so appointed. Very
+sad was this plaintive, murmuring sorrow from lips so young. Sadder
+still was the conscious life of that other more perfect woman of the
+ballad: "I wish I was dead, but I'm no like to dee."
+
+Jacky was hovering not far off with lights, and Anna lifted her little
+patient tenderly, put her dress in order, and led her down to the
+cheerful fireside of Mrs. Catherine's inner drawing-room, where Lewis
+joined her by-and-bye, and from the warm and hopeful air of which, glad
+lights went flashing back again over the fair horizon of Alice Aytoun's
+life.
+
+"Child," said Mrs. Catherine, as they parted, "I perceive it will be a
+hard work and a sore; but let me see you fainting, if you daur! Make no
+scruple to ask whatsoever aid is needful from me--ye ken that. You
+cannot see the truthfulness of it, child, as I do, that ken the lad. Be
+of good cheer, and never doubt that the Lord will bring light out of
+this great darkness in his own time."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+Within a week after these agitating events, Archibald Sutherland, in
+company with the anxious and attentive factor, rode into Portoran, to
+meet the third individual of their council, Mr. Foreman, and engage in a
+final consultation. During the days which had intervened since
+Archibald's return, there had already been much discussion and
+deliberation between the two good men, who took an interest so kindly in
+his changed fortunes. Mr. Ferguson, who had a distant kinsman, the most
+inaccessible and hypochondriacal of nabobs, and under whose ken had
+passed various bilious, overgrown fortunes accumulated in the golden
+East, gave his voice for India. Mr. Foreman, whose brother had grown
+comfortably rich, on the shores of that river "Plate," whose very name
+in mercantile mouths, seems to savor so pleasantly of golden harvests,
+spoke strongly in favor of South America. Mr. Foreman had been
+consulting with his minister, of whose business head, and clear
+judgment, the good lawyer was becomingly proud, and slightly given to
+boast himself; and it happened that, at that very time, Mr. Lumsden had
+heard from his brother, the clever manager and future junior partner of
+Messrs. Sutor and Sinclair's, great commercial house in Glasgow, that
+Mr. Sinclair, the partner in Buenos Ayres, was in urgent want of an
+intelligent and well-educated clerk, and had written to his partner and
+manager, desiring them, either to send one of the young men in their
+Glasgow office, or to employ one of higher qualifications, if need were,
+and send him out without delay. Now it happened, wrote Mr. Lumsden's
+brother, that the house of Sutor and Sinclair had divers other branches,
+in different parts of the world, and their clerks of experience having
+been drafted, one by one, to these, they were now left with none of
+sufficient age, or acquirements, to suit the fastidious Mr. Sinclair,
+whose letter had conveyed a delicate hint, that if it were possible, he
+should desire a young man of some culture and breeding to fill the
+vacant post. Mr. Lumsden's brother further explained, that this was a
+quiet stroke at the less polished Mr. Sutor, who had previously sent a
+clerkship, in the shape of a great hearty, joyous, enterprising cub, of
+true Glasgow manufacture and proportions, born to make a fortune, but
+unfortunately, not born either to be or look anything beyond the honest,
+genial, persevering, money-making man he already was. Mr. Sinclair's
+health was delicate; his mind, considering that he was a clever and very
+successful merchant, pre-eminently so; and the choice of his
+confidential clerk, puzzled Mr. George Lumsden and his principal sadly.
+
+Mr. Foreman, on hearing of this, had written without delay to his
+minister's brother, desiring to know whether poor Archibald--the ruined
+laird--might have any chance of suiting so peculiar a situation. His
+name, Mr. Foreman wrote somewhat proudly, was a sufficient voucher for
+his personal acquirements; he had been unfortunate, but the youthful
+madness which occasioned these misfortunes had been bitterly repented
+of, and there was little doubt that his ability, and earnest endeavor to
+redeem his lost ground, would carry him to the head of whatever he
+attempted. When Mr. Ferguson and Archibald entered Mr. Foreman's private
+room, they found him waiting in nervous expectation for an answer to
+this letter. He knew the mail had come in; he had dispatched a messenger
+to the post-office half an hour ago, and was fuming now over the
+vexatious delay. In the meantime, however, he managed to explain the
+matter to his visitors.
+
+"From all that I can hear, Mr. Archibald, is just the thing for
+you--without office drudging, and with a man who could understand and
+sympathize with your feelings. I do think we have been fortunate in
+hearing of it."
+
+Archibald shook his head. "You are too ambitious for me, Mr. Foreman. I
+would rather--it may be a sort of pride, perhaps, though pride sits ill
+on me--I would, indeed, rather not have my feelings sympathized with by
+strangers. I should prefer no manner of distinction.
+
+"Well, well!" said Mr. Foreman, "neither there will be; only the
+situation is a superior one, and you would have in it the best possible
+opening."
+
+"Don't think me ungrateful," said Archibald. "I shall be very glad of
+it, if you think me at all likely to have the necessary qualifications.
+But in business, you know, I want experience entirely. I almost want
+even elementary knowledge."
+
+"No fear of that," said Mr. Ferguson, "a good head and clear mind soon
+master the details of business--but India!"
+
+"Ah! has the little wretch come back at last?" cried Mr. Foreman,
+darting into the outer office, and seizing upon his messenger, who,
+lingering only to watch the progress of one most interesting game at
+"bools," which came to a crisis just as he was passing, had returned
+from the post-office with his load of letters. These were examined in a
+moment; one bearing the square Glasgow post-mark selected, the others
+tossed over in an indiscriminate heap to Walter, and Mr. Foreman,
+opening his letter hurriedly, re-entered the room reading it. It was
+decidedly favorable. Much of sympathy and compassion for the young man
+shipwrecked so early, much of regret for the downfall of an old house
+(for Mr. Lumsden was a north countryman, and knew the Sutherland family
+by name) were in it; but these Mr. Foreman kept to himself. The prudent
+manager of Messrs. Sutor and Sinclair's Glasgow house, was rather
+dubious, as to a young man, who had managed to ruin himself at
+five-and-twenty, being quite a suitable person for a merchant's trusted
+and confidential clerk; but proposed that Mr. Sutherland should come,
+for a month or two, to the Glasgow counting-house, to acquire a
+knowledge of the business, and enable them to form a better judgment of
+him, on personal knowledge. Mr. Lumsden's words were quite kind, and
+perfectly respectful, yet Mr. Foreman delicately softened them as he
+read, and when he had concluded, looked triumphantly from Archibald to
+Mr. Ferguson.
+
+"Well, gentlemen; what do you say?"
+
+The factor gave in his adhesion; his own vague hope from India could not
+stand before a definite proposal like this. "It looks well, Mr.
+Archibald; upon my word, I do think it looks well."
+
+"It is quite above my expectations," said Archibald. "I am perfectly
+ready to enter upon my probation at once--without delay. I accept your
+friend's offer without the least hesitation, Mr. Foreman; write him, I
+beg, and tell him so, and let the time be fixed for the commencement of
+my apprenticeship--and then, if I satisfy my new employers--then, for
+the shores of that luxurious Spain in the west, and such prosperity as
+Providence shall send me there. Nay, nay; you look sorrowfully at me, as
+if I mocked myself; I do not--my second beginning is more hopeful than
+my first. I will do no dishonor--I trust--I hope I shall do no further
+dishonor to your kindness, or my father's name: only let us have it
+settled upon, and begun as early as possible, Mr. Foreman. I have no
+time to lose."
+
+"I am glad! I am delighted!" exclaimed the honest lawyer, "to see you
+take it so well. If the first disagreeables were but over!"
+
+"Never mind the first disagreeables, Mr. Foreman," said Archibald,
+cheerfully. "I shall be the better of difficulties to begin with--if I
+only were begun."
+
+"We will not linger about that," said Mr. Foreman, catching the
+contagion of his client's cheerfulness, which, to tell the truth, was
+more in seeming than reality. "I shall write to Mr. Lumsden at once."
+
+Other arrangements had to be made before they left Portoran--the
+transfer of Alexander Semple's lease to Mr. Ferguson being the principal
+matter which occupied them. Semple was a soft, spiritless man, of
+indolent temper; and no enterprise, and the bleak, unprofitable acres
+were certain to remain as unprofitable and bleak as ever during his
+occupancy. Already many times Mr. Coulter had sighed over them, and
+poured into the ears of their listless tenant vain hints, and unheeded
+remonstrances. Mr. Coulter was most pleasantly busied now devising the
+means for their fertilization, and, in company with Mr. Ferguson, had
+already taken various very long, wearisome, and delightful walks, partly
+from a neighborly regard for the interests of the broken man, and partly
+from his own entire devotion to his respectable and most important
+science, advising with the new farmer as to the various profitable and
+laborious processes necessary for these unpromising and barren fields.
+The rental Archibald Sutherland insisted should remain in the factor's
+hands, or in Mr. Foreman's hands, or in the Portoran branch of the
+British Linen Company's Bank, if his zealous friends insisted on that,
+his own resolution being to spend nothing beyond the income he worked
+for, however small that might be at first. His own tastes had always
+been simple, and money the mere bits of gold and scraps of paper--had
+become precious in his eyes. There was little fear either that he should
+ever be a worshipper of the golden calf--the unrighteous Mammon. But
+Strathoran--his home--his birth-place--the house of his fathers!
+
+He saw its turrets rising from among the trees as he turned his horse's
+head from the pleasant threshold of Woodsmuir, to which he now paid his
+first visit. These fair slopes and hollows, the brown moor running far
+northward, the gray hills in the distance, with the red glory of the
+frosty January sunlight on their bare, uncovered heads. What were they
+now to him? What? Dearer, more precious than ever; the aim to which he
+looked forward through a dim vista of hard-working years; a prize to be
+won; a goal to be attained; a treasure to be brought by his own toil!
+Was there no sickening of the heart, as the young man, born and nurtured
+in that proud old house of Strathoran, the heir of all its inherited
+honors, looked forward to the lifetime of toil that lay before him,
+obscure, ignoble, unceasing? The office in Glasgow where he should be
+put on trial, and have the strange new experience of unknown masters, on
+whose favor depended all his prospects; the still more dim and unknown
+counting-house of Buenos Ayres, with its exile and estrangement from
+home-looks and language. Was not his heart sickening within him? No! Who
+that has felt his pulses quicken, and his heart beat, at the
+anticipation of a clear and honorable future, filled only with
+unencumbered labor, a healthful frame, a sound mind, and a great aim in
+view, could ask that question? Sickness, deadly and painful, overpowered
+Archibald Sutherland's heart when he looked _behind_; that wild
+lee-shore of weakness, those fierce rocks of temptation and passion upon
+which his fortune and his honor had made disastrous shipwreck. These are
+the things to sicken hearts and crush them, not the bracing chill air
+that swept the path to which he began to bind his breast. The hill was
+steep, the way long, rough, laborious. What matter? There was hope, and
+mental health, and moral safety in his toils; a definite aim at its
+summit; an All-guiding Providence, giving strength to the toiler, and
+promising a blessing upon every righteous effort, to uphold and bear him
+on.
+
+The cloud that had passed over that little, blue-eyed, gentle girl at
+the Tower--the new interest which occupied the mind of Mrs. Catherine,
+were known to Archibald in some degree, and interested him deeply. But
+the great secret--that Norman lived yet to be toiled, and hoped, and
+prayed for--was not communicated to either Archibald or Alice. They knew
+only that their friends believed him unjustly accused, and intended to
+labor for proof of that--proof which might be difficult enough to find,
+after the lapse of so many years--but the fact of the engagement between
+Lewis and Alice, was quite sufficient to account for the suddenly
+awakened anxiety concerning Norman's innocence.
+
+The first week of the new year was past: the next day little Alice was
+to return home. They were all sitting in Mrs. Catherine's inner
+drawing-room, about her cheerful tea-table--Mrs. Catherine herself,
+Alice, Anne, Archibald, and Lewis. The spirits of the young people had
+risen; they were all hopeful, courageous, and conversing with that
+intimate and familiar kindliness which unites so much more closely and
+tenderly on the eve of a parting than at any other time. Alice was to
+sing to them--to sing as Anne and Archibald begged--that song of the
+'Oran' which had moved them so deeply on the night of the new year. The
+sweet young voice had grown more expressive since that time; the gentle,
+youthful spirit had passed through greater vicissitudes in that week
+than in all its previous bright lifetime, and, therefore, the song was
+better rendered--its tinge of sadness--its warm breath of hope--
+
+    "Ah, pray, young hearts, for the sad wayfaring man!"
+
+Anne met Archibald's eyes with a supplicating glance in them as the
+melody ended. Her own were wet with sympathetic tears. Yes, for him who
+must count so many years of toil before he could see the evening star
+rise calm on the home-waves of Oran, she echoed the prayer, but more
+deeply, and with a thrill of still devouter earnestness, for that exiled
+brother who already had borne the burden of the long laborious day, so
+far from home and all its comforts, so far from hope and honor.
+
+Alice sang again, a pretty little pastoral song of the district, which
+was a favorite with Lewis. He was leaning over her chair, and Anne,
+approaching Mrs. Catherine, took the opportunity of asking her about
+this ballad--whether it really had any connexion with Norman, or was but
+linked to him, by her own fancy.
+
+"It is Norman's song," said Mrs. Catherine. "Ye know, child, that I like
+ballads that have the breath of life in them. Langsyne, Norman left that
+with me; the author of it was some student lad about Redheugh, that he
+liked well, and it has lain bye me ever since. I desired the bairn
+Alison to learn it. I am an auld fuil to heed such bairnly things,
+child; but it pleased me to hear her father's daughter singing that.
+There was a kind of forgiveness and peace in it to the memory of the
+unhappy callant.--It was a foolish fancy, was it not, for an auld wife?
+But silence! let us hear her."
+
+And so, next morning, little Alice, very sadly, and with many tears,
+went away; Lewis and Anne accompanying her to Portoran. Alice wore a
+little ring of betrothal upon her slender finger, and carried with her a
+letter from Mrs. Catherine, stating all the circumstances of her
+engagement, and their conviction that they could prove to Mrs. Aytoun's
+satisfaction the innocence of Norman. It had been thought best that
+Lewis should not write himself, until Mrs. Catherine had explained his
+peculiar position to the mother and brother of Alice; and they had
+arranged that he should follow her, very shortly, to Edinburgh, to
+present himself to her family, and urge his suit in person.
+
+Very sad also was the leave-taking of Bessie and her friends at the
+Tower. Johnnie Halflin had bought a pretty little silk handkerchief for
+her, which Bessie, in simple fidelity, vowed never to part with. Jacky
+had bestowed a book, and some very beautiful moss, from a gray, old
+tombstone in the graveyard on Oranside, which, tradition said, covered
+the last resting-place of the heroine of an old, pathetic ballad,
+current in the countryside. Bessie let the book slide thanklessly to the
+bottom of her little "kist," and was sadly at a loss what to do with the
+moss, which however, was finally thrust into the same repository. Poor
+Jacky had chosen her parting presents unhappily.
+
+And at last, they were away. The frost had broken, through the night,
+and it was another of those dull, drizzling, melancholy winter days.
+Lewis placed Alice, carefully wrapped up, and protected from the cold,
+in the corner of the same coach in which she had seen him first. Little
+Bessie was seated by her side, and leaving the Tower and all its
+pleasant neighborhood lying dark behind her, Alice Aytoun was whirled
+away home.
+
+It cost her no inconsiderable amount of exertion and self-denial to have
+the tears and sadness sufficiently overcome to meet her mother's
+greeting as she wished to do. But Alice schooled herself bravely, like a
+little hero, and conquered. They were home, in the old familiar room, by
+the well-known fireside. Mrs. Aytoun was smiling, as she had not smiled
+before since Alice went away. James was half-ashamed of being so
+unusually joyous. They had all her news to hear, all her three months'
+history over again, in spite of the long recording letters.
+
+"And what is this?" said Mrs. Aytoun, taking her daughter's small white
+hand, upon which glittered the little token ring. "Is this another of
+those delicate gifts of Mrs. Catherine's?"
+
+Little Alice could not answer; the blood flushed over her face and neck.
+She stammered and trembled. Mrs. Aytoun looked at her, in alarm and
+wonder.
+
+"Read this letter, mother," whispered Alice, at last, putting Mrs.
+Catherine's letter into her mother's hands, and sinking upon a stool at
+her feet. "It will tell you all."
+
+James had left the room, a minute before. Mrs. Aytoun, somewhat
+agitated, opened the letter, and Alice laid her head upon her mother's
+knee, and hid it in the folds of her dress. Mrs. Aytoun read:
+
+     "I herewith send back to you, kinswoman, your pleasant bairn, who
+     has been a great comfort and solace to me, though my old house was
+     maybe too dark a cage for a singing bird like her. I am by no means
+     confident either whether I will ever undertake the charge of any
+     such dangerous gear again; for in the ordinary course of nature,
+     the bit gay spirit and bonnie face of her have been making mischief
+     in Strathoran; and besides having my door besieged by all manner of
+     youthful company, there is one lad, who, I am feared, has crossed
+     my threshold too often, maybe, for your good pleasure.
+
+     "The lad is Lewis Ross, of Merkland, a gallant of good outward
+     appearance and competent estate, with no evil condition that I can
+     specially note about him, except having arrived at that full period
+     of years, when it is the fashion of young men to give themselves
+     credit for more wisdom than any other mortal person can see. In
+     other things, so far as I can judge, the two are well enough
+     matched: for Lewis is the representative of a family long settled
+     in the countryside, and has his lands free of any burden or
+     encumbrance, besides being in all matters of this world a prudent,
+     sensible, and managing lad.
+
+     "I would have put in a reservation, however, till your pleasure was
+     known, but doubtless the deliberate ways of age differ from the
+     swift proceedings of youth; and the two had plunged themselves
+     beyond power of redemption, before I had any inkling of the matter.
+     I see no good way of stopping it now, and I think you may trust
+     your Burd Alice in the hands of Lewis Ross, without fear.
+
+     "And now, kinswoman, there comes a graver and darker matter into
+     the consideration. I will not ask you if ye mind the beginning of
+     your widowhood. It is pain and grief to me to say a word that may
+     bring that terrible season back to ye, even in the remembrance;
+     only it has so happened, in the wonderful course of Providence,
+     that it should have an unhappy connection with the troth-plighting
+     of these two bairns. Kinswoman you are younger than me, and have
+     seen less of this world's miseries, though your own trials have not
+     been light. But what think you of a young man, in the bloom of his
+     years and his hopes, with a pleasant heritage and a fair name,
+     suddenly covered with the shame and dishonor of a great
+     crime--threatened with a shameful death--exposed to the hatred of
+     all men, that bore the love of God and their neighbors in honest
+     hearts,--and him innocent withal? What think you of a
+     lad--generous, upright, honorable--as true and single-minded a
+     youth as the eye of day ever looked upon, suddenly plunged into a
+     horror of darkness like this--knowing himself everywhere condemned,
+     yet, in his true and honest heart, knowing himself guiltless? I
+     say, what think you of this? Was there ever a darker or more
+     terrible doom, in this world of ills and mysteries?
+
+     "I knew him--kinswoman, from his birth-year to the time of his
+     blight, I knew this unhappy heart: the truthfulness of him--the
+     honoring of others above himself, that was inherent in his simple,
+     manly nature--the strength of gentleness and patience, that might
+     have been crowning an old and wise head, instead of being yoked
+     with the impetuous spirit of youth! All this I knew; and yet,
+     painfully and slowly, I also was permitted to believe that his pure
+     hand had blood upon it--that he had done this crime.
+
+     "My eyes are opened. I am humbled to the ground in my rejoicing,
+     that I should have dared, even in my own secret spirit, to malign
+     the gracious nature I knew so well. Kinswoman, the violent death of
+     your husband, by whom or wherefore done I know not, brought this
+     sore doom undeserved upon Norman Rutherford. The bridal tryst of
+     your pleasant bairn Alice, will clear his dishonored name again.
+
+     "You think he killed your husband. I am not given to hasty
+     judgment, nor am I easily misguided. He did not do it; and when I
+     tell you that your bairn Alison is plighted to a near kinsman of
+     Norman Rutherford's, I lay my charge upon you not to let your heart
+     sink within you, or suffer the bairn's bit gentle spirit to be
+     broken again. I pledge you my word, that they will seek no further
+     consent from you, till Norman's righteousness is clear to your eyes
+     as the morning light. There are two urgent reasons pressing them--I
+     am meaning Lewis Ross, and his sister, my own Anne,--on this work;
+     the winning of your pleasant bairn and the clearing of their
+     brother's lost fame and honor.
+
+     "For he is their brother, their nearest kin. Again, I charge you,
+     think of this terrible doom laid upon a gallant of as clear and
+     lofty a spirit as ever was in mortal knowledge; and let the
+     mother's heart within you have compassion on his name. Shut not
+     your mind against the proof--it may be hard to gather--and take
+     time and patience; but if mortal hands can compass it, it shall be
+     laid before you soon or syne.
+
+     "Lewis Ross (trusting you will receive him) will shortly tell you
+     of this himself, with his own lips; and having maybe some right of
+     counsel, in virtue of my years, and of our kindred, it is my prayer
+     that you put no discouragement in this way.
+
+     "Be content to wait till the proof is brought to you; and break not
+     the gentle spirit of the bairn, by crossing her in the first
+     tenderness of her youth.
+
+CATHERINE DOUGLAS."
+
+
+
+Mrs. Aytoun was greatly agitated. James had entered the room, and stood
+in silent astonishment, as he looked at Alice clinging to her mother's
+knee, and the letter trembling in Mrs. Aytoun's hand. "Mother--Alice--what
+has happened? What is the matter?"
+
+Mrs. Aytoun handed the letter to him in silence, and, lifting her
+daughter up, drew her close to her breast: "My Alice! my poor, simple
+bairn! why did I let you away from me?"
+
+The girl clung to her mother, terrified, ashamed, and dizzy.--She
+trembled to hear some fatal sentence, parting her for ever from Lewis.
+She fancied she could never lift up her blushing face again, to speak of
+him, even if that terror were withdrawn: she could only lean on that
+kind breast, and cling, as is the nature of such gentle, dependent
+spirits. Anne Ross's words were true.--Had Mrs. Aytoun but said that she
+must never see Lewis again, poor little Alice would have submitted
+without a struggle, and would have been right; she was safe in that wise
+guidance--she was not safe in her own.
+
+But Mrs. Aytoun's motherly lips gave forth no such arbitrary mandate.
+She rose, still holding Alice within her arm. "James," she said, "that
+letter is a most important one: read it carefully.--We will join you
+again by-and-by."
+
+And leading and supporting her drooping daughter, Mrs. Aytoun went to
+her own room, and, seating herself there, began to question Alice.
+
+And then the whole stream came flowing forth, hesitating and broken; how
+Lewis had travelled with her, and had been constantly at her side, ever
+since that momentous journey; how Anne had been her patient, kind,
+indulgent friend; how at last, upon that eventful New year's night,
+Lewis and herself had been alone together--and then--and then--there
+followed some incoherent words, which Mrs. Aytoun could comprehend the
+purport of; how Anne came in, looking so chill and pale, and
+horror-stricken; how Mrs. Catherine next day took her into the little
+room, and almost broke the gentle heart that was beating so high now,
+with anxiety and suspense; how Anne returned at night with voice as
+tender and hand as gentle as her mother's telling her that Norman was
+innocent; and then, how glad and happy they had all been together
+again--and then--if her mother could only see him--if she could only see
+Anne--they could tell her so much better!
+
+Mrs. Aytoun was still anxious and pale, but her tremor of agitation was
+quieted.
+
+"She must be a very kind, good girl, this Anne, Alice."
+
+Alice breathed more freely--if her mother had been very angry, was her
+simple reasoning, she would not have spoken so.
+
+"She is very good--very kind, mother--like you, gentler than Mrs.
+Catherine; but she is not a girl, she is older than--than Lewis."
+
+Mrs. Aytoun smiled.
+
+"How old is Lewis?"
+
+The simple little heart began to beat with troubled joy.
+
+"He is twenty-one, mother. It was his birthday just a week after I went
+to the Tower."
+
+Mrs. Aytoun did not speak for some time.
+
+"Alice," she said at last, "I must see this Lewis, and consult with
+James, before I make any decision--in the meantime you will be very
+patient, will you not?"
+
+"Oh, yes, yes--I do not care how long--only--if you saw him, mother, if
+you just saw him, I know how you would like him!"
+
+"Would I?" said Mrs. Aytoun, smiling: "well, we shall see; but now dry
+your eyes, and let us go back to James again."
+
+They returned to the parlor. James sat at the table, the letter lying
+before him, and his face exceedingly grave. He was very much disturbed
+and troubled. He did not well see what to do.
+
+For some time there was little conversation between them--the mother and
+son consulted together with their grave looks. Little Alice, again
+sadly cast down, sat silent by the fireside. At last her brother
+addressed her with a sort of timidity, blushing almost as she did
+herself, when he mentioned the name.
+
+"Alice, when does Mr. Ross come to Edinburgh?"
+
+Mr. Ross! so cold it sounded and icy--would not Lewis be his brother?
+
+"In a fortnight," murmured Alice.
+
+"A fortnight! then, mother, I think my best plan is to go down to
+Strathoran myself and make inquiries. In a matter which involves two
+such important things as the happiness of Alice, and the honor of our
+family, there is no time for delay. I shall start to-morrow."
+
+"Can you spare the time?" said his mother--while Alice looked up
+half-glad, half-sorrowful--it might keep Lewis from coming to
+Edinburgh--at the same time, James was so sure to be convinced by
+Lewis's irresistible eloquence, and the gentler might of Anne.
+
+"I must spare it, mother," was the answer, "my ordinary business is not
+so important as this. What do you think--am I right?"
+
+"Perfectly right, James," said his mother, promptly, "I was about to
+advise this myself; and if you find anything satisfactory to report, you
+can bid this Lewis still come. I shall want to see who it is, who has
+superseded me in my little daughter's heart."
+
+"Oh, no, mother--no, no," cried Alice, imploringly. "Do not say that."
+
+James Aytoun rose and laid his hand caressingly upon his little sister's
+fair hair. She had been a child when he was rising into manhood. He
+thought her a child still--and with the grave difficulties of this, very
+unexpected problem, which they had to solve, there mingled a
+half-mirthful, half-sad, sort of incredulous wonder. Little Alice had
+done a very important piece of business independently and alone. Little
+Alice had the sober glory of matronhood hanging over her fair, girlish
+forehead. Little Alice was engaged!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+Several days before Alice left the Tower, Lewis had written to Robert
+Ferguson, the youthful Edinburgh advocate, of whose very early call to
+the bar his father was so justly and pleasantly proud, telling him all
+they knew and guessed of Norman's history, except the one circumstance
+of his escape from the shipwreck; and explaining, in some slight
+degree, the immediate reason of their anxiety to clear their brother's
+name from the foul blot that lay upon it. Very shortly after Alice
+Aytoun's departure, an answer came to the letter of Lewis.
+
+With quick interest, partly in that it was one of the first cases in
+which his legal wisdom had been consulted, and partly from the kindly
+feeling of neighborship, which is so warm in Scotland, the young lawyer
+embraced the search, and promised to go down instantly to the parish in
+which the deed was done, or even to engage the assistance of an acute
+writer, of experience in his craft, if Lewis thought that desirable. Mr.
+Robert, however, with a young man's abundant confidence in his own
+power, fancied that he could accomplish the work quite as well alone.
+"He would go down quietly to the village," he said, "taking care to do
+nothing which might put the true criminal, if he still lived, upon his
+guard; and as soon as he had procured any information, would report it
+to Lewis."
+
+The letter was satisfactory--the warm readiness of belief in Norman's
+innocence pleased Anne. In such a matter, however strong one's own faith
+may be, it is a great satisfaction to hear it echoed by other minds.
+
+In the afternoon of that day, Anne went, by appointment, to the Tower,
+to communicate Robert's opinion to Mrs. Catherine.--She made a circuit
+by the mill, to see Lilie; for Mrs. Catherine and Archibald, she knew,
+had business in Portoran, and would not return early. It was a clear,
+bright, mild day, with a spring haze of subdued sunshine about it,
+reminding one, pleasantly, that the year "was on the turn." Lilie was
+not at home.
+
+"And I wish ye would speak to that outre lassie, Jacky Morison, Miss
+Anne," said Lilie's careful guardian. "She had the bairn away this
+morning, and trails her about to a' kinds of out o' the way places; in
+the wood, and on the hills; and I'm not sure in my ain mind, that it's
+right to let the bairn wi' the like o' her."
+
+"Jacky is sure to be very careful," said Anne.
+
+"Na, it's no sae muckle for that," said Mrs. Melder; "though I have a
+cauld tremble whiles when I think o' the water. Jacky's no oncarefu.
+It's a great charge being answerable for a stranger bairn, Miss Anne;
+but Lilie's learning (it's just a pleasure to see how fast she wins on)
+a' manner o' nonsense verses; and has her bit head fu' of stories o'
+knights and fairies, and I kenna a' what. It's Jacky's doing and no
+ither. I am at times whiles far frae easy in my mind about it."
+
+"No fear," said Anne, smiling. "Jacky will do Lilie no harm, Mrs.
+Melder."
+
+"To be sure," said Mrs. Melder, thoughtfully, "she's no an ill scholar,
+to be sic a strange lassie; and has been lookit weel after at the
+Tower. She was here the other day, when the minister was in--that's Mr.
+Lumsden--he had a diet[1] in my house, Miss Anne--and it wad have dune
+ye gude to have heard her at the questions. No a slip; and as easy in
+the petitions as in man's chief end. They say," continued Mrs. Melder,
+somewhat overpowered, "that she can say the hundred and nineteenth psalm
+a' out, without missing a word."
+
+    [1] A diet of examination. One of the periodical visits made by
+    Scottish clergymen in former times, during which the household,
+   and especially its younger members, were examined on the "Shorter
+       Catechism," the universal text-book of Scottish Theology.
+
+Leaving the miller's kindly wife a good deal reassured by these signs of
+Jacky's orthodoxy, Anne proceeded towards the Tower. The highroad was
+circuitous, and long; and the direct and universally-used path ran along
+the northern bank of the river, through the grounds of Strathoran. The
+little green gate, near which Alice had met Mr. Fitzherbert, was at the
+opposite extremity of this by-way, where it entered the precincts of the
+Tower.--As she drew near the stile, at which the narrow path was
+admitted into the possessions of the fallen house of Sutherland, Anne
+heard voices before her. One of them, whose loud tone was evidently full
+of anger and excitement, she recognised at once as Marjory Falconer's;
+and having heard of her former adventure with Mr. Fitzherbert, and
+gallant defence of little Alice, Anne hurried forward, fearing that her
+friend's prompt ire, and impetuous disposition, had involved her in some
+new scrape. It was evident that Marjory had some intention, in raising
+her voice so high. Anne could hear its clear tone, and indignant
+modulation, before she came in sight of the speaker.
+
+He would venture to take the airs of a chieftain upon him--he, an
+English interloper, a mushroom lord! "Pull away the branches, George:
+never mind, let them indict you for trespass if they dare."
+
+Anne had quickened her pace, and was now close to the stile. Miss
+Falconer, her face flushed, her strong, tall, handsome figure swelling
+stronger and taller than ever, as she pulled, with an arm not destitute
+of force, one great branch which had been placed with many others,
+across the stile, barring the passage, stood with her head turned
+towards Strathoran, too much engrossed to notice Anne's approach. The
+Falcon's Craig groom was laboring with all his might to clear away the
+other obstructions, his broad face illuminated with fun, and hot with
+exertion, enjoying it with his whole heart. Miss Falconer went on:
+
+"A pretty person to shut us out of our own country--to eject our
+cottars--honester men a hundredfold than himself; a chief forsooth! does
+he think himself a chief? I would like to see the clan of Gillravidge.
+Pull away these barriers, George; if Mrs. Catherine does not try
+conclusions with him, I do not know her."
+
+"Marjory," said Anne, "what are you doing?--what is the matter now?"
+
+"Anne Ross, is that you?--the matter!--why, look here--here is matter
+enough to make any one angry--_our_ road, that belonged to us and our
+ancestors before this man's race or name had ever been heard of--look at
+it, how he has blocked it up--look at this 'notice to trespassers'--'to
+be prosecuted with the utmost rigor of the law'--very well, let them
+prosecute!" continued Marjory, raising her voice, and sending a
+flashing, keen glance towards a corner of the adjoining plantation, "let
+them prosecute by all means--in five minutes more, they shall have some
+trespassers. These paltry little tyrants--these upstart Englishmen,
+daring, in a lowland country, and on poor Archibald Sutherland's lands,
+to do what a highland chief would not venture on, on his own hills!"
+
+"It must be some mistake, Marjory," said Anne, "it is impossible any one
+could do this with the intention of insulting the whole countryside. It
+must be a mistake."
+
+"Mistake, indeed!--throw it into the Oran, George, throw it over the
+water," cried Miss Falconer, as the groom raised in his arms an immense
+piece of wood, the last barrier to the passage. "We shall see that
+by-and-by--come, Anne."
+
+Marjory mounted the style, and sprang down in the Strathoran grounds on
+the other side. "Come, Anne, come."
+
+"Had we not better go the other way?" said Anne. "It is but subjecting
+ourselves to impertinence, Marjory. Nay, do not look contemptuous. I am
+not afraid of accompanying you, but I do think that Lewis and Ralph
+might manage this better than we can."
+
+Marjory threw back her head with an indignant, impatient motion. "Don't
+be a fool, Anne. Come, I am going to the Tower. Lewis and Ralph indeed!"
+
+"Well," said Anne, "if they could not do it better, it would be at least
+more suitable. We shall only expose ourselves to impertinence, Marjory.
+Let us go round the other way."
+
+"Very well," said Miss Falconer, turning away; "I will go alone."
+
+Anne crossed the stile. It was annoying to be forced into any
+altercation, such as was almost sure to ensue upon their meeting any of
+the dependents of Lord Gillravidge; at the same time, she could not
+suffer Marjory to go alone. George lifted a large, empty basket, and
+followed them, his hot, merry face shining like a beacon as he passed
+beneath the bare and rustling boughs.
+
+Miss Falconer, with the large basket full, had been visiting a widow,
+whose only son had met with a severe accident, while engaged in his
+ordinary labor. The widow had some claim on the household of Falcon's
+Craig--some one of those most pleasant and beneficial links of mutual
+good-will and service which unite country neighborhoods so healthfully,
+subsisted between the poor family and the great one, and as, on any
+grand occasion at Falcon's Craig, the brisk services of Tibbie Hewit,
+the hapless young mason's mother, would have been rendered heartily and
+at once, so the accident was no sooner reported to Miss Falconer, then
+she set out with her share of the mutual kindliness. We cannot tell what
+was in the basket, but Tibbie Hewit's "press" was very much better
+filled when it went away empty, than when Miss Falconer entered her
+cottage.
+
+"What a pity I have not my whip," said Marjory, as, drawing Anne's arm
+within her own, they passed on together. "You should have seen that
+cowardly fellow who stopped little Alice! what a grimace he made when he
+felt the lash about his shoulders! I say, Anne,"--Miss Falconer's voice
+sank lower--"did you see them hiding in the wood?"
+
+"Who, Marjory?"
+
+"Oh! that ape with the hair about his face, and some more of them. I
+should not have pulled down their barricade, I dare say, if I had not
+seen them. But you do not think I would retreat for _them_?"
+
+"I do think, indeed," said Anne, looking hastily round, "that retreat
+would be by far our most dignified plan. Suppose they come down to us,
+Marjory, and we, who call ourselves gentlewomen, get involved in a
+squabble with a set of impertinent young men. I do think we are
+subjecting ourselves to quite unnecessary humiliation."
+
+A violent flush covered Marjory Falconer's face--one of those
+overpowering rebounds of the strained delicacy and womanliness which
+revenged her _escapades_ so painfully--the burning color might have
+furnished a hundred fluttering blushes for little Alice Atoun. But still
+she had no idea of yielding.
+
+"Perhaps you are right, Anne. I did not think of that; but at least we
+must go on now. And think what an insult it is!--to all of us--to the
+whole country. We cannot suffer it, you know. Mrs. Catherine, I am sure,
+will take steps immediately."
+
+"Very likely," said Anne.
+
+Anne was revolving the possibility of crossing the Oran by the
+stepping-stones, which were about a quarter of a mile along, and so
+escaping the collision she dreaded.
+
+"There, you see!" exclaimed Marjory, triumphantly; "there is a proof of
+the way we are dealt with, the indignities they put upon women! Neither
+Lewis nor Ralph would have the public spirit to resist such a thing as
+this. Oh! I can answer for Ralph, and I know Lewis would not. But one
+can be quite sure of Mrs. Catherine--one is never disappointed in her.
+Yet you will hear silly boys sneer at her, and think her estate would be
+better in their feeble hands, than in her own strong ones. I ask you,
+what do you think of that, Anne Ross--can you see no injustice there?"
+
+"Injustice?" said Anne, laughing. "No, indeed, only a great, deal of
+foolishness and nonsense; both on the part of the silly boys, and--I beg
+your pardon, Marjory--on yours, for taking the trouble of repeating what
+they say."
+
+"Oh, very well!" said Miss Falconer, coloring still more violently, yet,
+with characteristic obstinacy plunging on in the expression of her pet
+opinions. "Yes! I know you think me very unwomanly; you pretend to be
+proper, Anne Ross--to set that sweet confection of gentleness, and
+mildness, and dependence, which people call a perfect woman, up as your
+model; but it's all a cheat, I tell you! You ought to try to be weak and
+pretty, and instead of that, you are only grave and sensible. You ought
+to be clinging to Lewis, as sweet and timid as possible; instead of
+that, you are very independent, and not much given, I fancy, to
+consulting your younger brother. You're not true, Anne Ross; you think
+with me, and are only quiet to cover it."
+
+"Hush!" said Anne; "do not be so very profane, Marjory.--Do you remember
+how the Apostle describes it; those words that charm one's ear like
+music, 'the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.' Are not the very
+sounds beautiful? Mildness and gentleness are exceeding good things; but
+I do not set any sweet confection before me, for my model. Marjory! do
+you remember those other beautiful words; 'Strength and honor are her
+clothing; she opens her mouth with wisdom, and in her lips is the law of
+kindness?' There is nothing weak about that, and yet that seems to me a
+perfectly womanly woman."
+
+Marjory Falconer did not answer.
+
+"But I feel quite sure," said Anne, smiling, "that when she opened her
+mouth with wisdom, she never said a word about the rights of women; and
+that when her husband went out to the gate, to sit among the elders, she
+did not think her own position, sitting among her maidens, a whit less
+dignified and important than his, or envied him in any way indeed. When
+you are tempted Marjory with this favorite heresy of yours, read that
+beautiful poem--there is not a morsel of confectionery about it; you can
+see the woman, whose household was clad in scarlet, and whose children
+rose up and called her blessed, and know her a living person, as truly
+as you know yourself. You call me quiet, Marjory; I intend to be
+demonstrative to-day, at least, and I do utterly contemn and abominate
+all that rubbish of rights of women, and woman's mission, and woman's
+influence, and all the rest of it; I never hear these cant words, but I
+blush for them," and Anne did blush, deeply as she spoke; "we are one
+half of the world--we have our work to do, like the other half--let us
+do our work as honorably and wisely as we can, but for pity's sake, do
+not let us make this mighty bustle and noise about it. We have our own
+strength, and honor, and dignity--no one disputes it; but dignity, and
+strength and honor, Marjory, are things to live in us, not to be talked
+about; only do not let us be so thoroughly self-conscious--no one gains
+respect by claiming it. There! you are very much astonished and
+horror-stricken at my burst. I cannot help it."
+
+"Very well! very well!" exclaimed Miss Falconer, clapping her hands.
+"Utterly contemn and abominate! Hear, hear, hear! who could have
+believed it of quiet Anne Ross?"
+
+Anne laughed. "Quiet Anne Ross is about to dare something further,
+Marjory. See; when did you cross the stepping-stones?"
+
+They had reached them; three or four large, smooth stones, lay across
+the stream, at a point where it narrowed; the middle one was a great
+block of native marble, which had been there, firm in its centre, since
+ever the brown Oran was a living river. The passage was by no means
+perilous, except for people to whom a wet shoe was a great evil. It is
+not commonly so with youthful people in the country; it was a matter of
+the most perfect unconcern to Marjory Falconer.
+
+"When did I cross the stepping-stones? Not for a good twelvemonth. I
+challenge you, Anne; if we should stumble, there is no one to see us but
+George. Come along."
+
+And Marjory, in the close-fitting, dark-cloth pelisse, which her old
+maid at Falcon's Craig congratulated herself "could take no scather,"
+leaped lightly from stone to stone, across the placid, clear, brown
+water. Anne, rejoicing in the success of her scheme, followed. So did
+George, somewhat disappointed, at losing the expected fun, of a
+rencontre with "some o' the feckless dandy chaps at Strathoran," and the
+demolition of the barricade at the other end of the way.
+
+They had to make a considerable circuit before they reached the road;
+but Anne endured that joyfully, when she saw through the trees the
+hirsute Mr. Fitzherbert, and some of his companions, assembled about the
+second stile--Marjory saw them too--the deep blush of shame returned to
+her cheek in overpowering pain: she did not say anything, but did not
+feel the less for that. Did Anne, indeed, need to scheme, for the
+preservation of her dignity?
+
+Little Lilie came running forth from Mrs. Euphan Morison's room, to meet
+them, as they crossed the bridge. Lilie had wonderful stories to tell of
+her long rambles with Jacky. The delicate moss on the tomb of the
+legendary maiden in the graveyard of Oranside, received more admiration
+from the child's quick sense of beauty, than it could elicit from the
+common-place mind of Bessie; for Lilie thought the graveyard was "an
+awfu' still place--nae sound but the water rinning, slow--slow; and the
+branches gaun wave wave; and the leaves on the wind's feet, like the
+bonnie shoon the fairies wear; and a' the folk lying quiet in their
+graves."
+
+They were lingering without--the air was so very mild and balmy, as if
+some summer angel had broken the spell of winter for one day. Marjory
+leant against a tree; her clear, good face, more thoughtful than usual.
+Anne had seated herself on a stone seat, beside the threshold, and was
+bending over Lilie, and her handful of moss; while Jacky, like a brown
+elf, as she was called, hovered in the rear. Mrs. Catherine had not yet
+returned from Portoran.
+
+"If ye please will ye go in?" asked Jacky.
+
+"No, let us stay here, Anne," said Miss Falconer. "Jacky, how did Mrs.
+Catherine go?"
+
+"If ye please, she's in the phaeton," said Jacky.
+
+"In the phaeton? oh!" exclaimed Miss Falconer, in a tone of
+disappointment; "and those steady wretches of ponies--there is no chance
+of anything happening to them--there is no hope of them running away."
+
+"Hope, Marjory?" said Anne.
+
+"Yes, hope! If Mrs. Catherine could only be caught in that shut-up
+by-way herself. Anne, I would give anything, just to find her in it."
+
+"Here she comes," said Anne, as the comfortable brown equipage, and its
+brisk ponies, came smartly up towards the door, driven by Archibald
+Sutherland. "Ask her to walk to the little gate with you, Marjory--she
+will do it. But be careful not to speak of it before Archibald."
+
+"Thank you for the caution," said Miss Falconer, in an undertone. "I
+wont; but I had forgotten--"
+
+The vehicle drew up. Mrs. Catherine alighted, and, at Marjory's request,
+turned with her to the little gate, from the shady dim lane beyond which
+the barricaded stile was visible, which shut passengers out from the
+sacred enclosure of Strathoran.
+
+Archibald sat down on the stone seat at the threshold, by Anne's side.
+Lilie was very talkative--she had seen the little ruined chapel on
+Oranside for the first time that day.
+
+"There's grass upon the steps," said Lilie, "and they're broken--and
+then up high it's a gray, but the branches, and they're like the lang
+arms of the brown spirits on the muir that Jacky kens about. Ye would
+think they had hands waving--"
+
+Anne patted the child's head, bidding her describe this at another time:
+but Lilie was i' the vein.
+
+"And upon the wall there's something white, printed in letters like a
+book--and down below, Oh, ye dinna ken what I found!--Jacky's got it. It
+was a wee, wee blue flower, growing in a corner, where it could see
+naithing but the sky. Would that be the way it was blue?"
+
+Anne could give no satisfactory answer, and Lilie went on.
+
+"Jacky was to keep it for me, but I'll give it to you, because it's
+pretty,--like the Oran, in the gloaming, when the sky's shining in the
+water. There's no flower but it--no--" said Lilie, comprehending in one
+vast glance the whole wide sweep of hill and valley round her--infinite
+as it seemed to the child's eyes; "no in the world--only it, and folk
+were sleeping below it. Jacky says the angels plant them--is that true?
+wait till I get it."
+
+The child darted away, and returned in a moment, bringing a small, wild,
+blue violet, one of those little, shapeless flowers, whose minute, dark
+leaves have so exquisite a fragrance. Anne took it from her, smiling,
+and repeating: "It will return in spring," offered it to Archibald. He
+received it with some emotion.--This sole flower in the world, as Lilie
+said, brought to him from the grave of father and of mother--the only
+spot of earth in Strathoran where he was not a stranger. He accepted the
+emblem, fragrant of their memories, as it seemed, fragrant of hope and
+life in the dreary winter-time, and, with its promise breathing from its
+leaves: "It will return in spring!"
+
+They were both silent and thoughtful: Archibald absorbed with these
+remembrances and anticipations, while Anne, sympathizing fully with him,
+was yet half inclined to blame herself for her involuntary exhilaration.
+The weight was lifted off Anne's heart. It was no longer a dread and
+horror, that secret life of Norman's but a thing to be rejoiced in, and
+to draw brightest encouragement from--a very star of hope.
+
+The sound of wheels upon the road recalled her thoughts. Mrs.
+Catherine's ponies had been led away by Johnnie Halflin. It was a shabby
+inn-gig, driven by one of the hangers-on of the 'Sutherland Arms,' in
+Portoran, which now drove up, and took the phaeton's place. A young man,
+with a pleasant, manly face, alighted, and, looking at Anne and
+Archibald dubiously, stood hesitating before them, and, at last, with
+some embarrassment, asked for Mrs. Catherine.
+
+Jacky darted forward to show him in, and, in a few minutes, reappeared,
+breathless, with the stranger's card in her hand.--Archibald had gone
+in--Anne had risen, and stood looking towards the little gate, waiting
+for Mrs. Catherine and Miss Falconer.
+
+"Oh! if ye please, Miss Anne--" exclaimed Jacky.
+
+"Well, Jacky, what is it?"
+
+Jacky held up the card--"Mr. James Aytoun." "If ye please, Miss Anne, I
+think it'll be Miss Alice's brother."
+
+Anne hastened forward to tell Mrs. Catherine, somewhat disturbed by the
+information. She feared for Lewis. Lewis was not so confident in the
+truth of these letters as she, and might, betray his doubt to Alice
+Aytoun's brother, a lawyer, skilled in discerning those signs of truth
+in the telling of a story, which Lewis would lack in his narrative.
+
+Jacky stole back to the library: the fire was getting low, she persuaded
+herself, and while she improved it, she could steal long glances at the
+stranger, and decide that he was "like Miss Alice, only no half so
+bonnie." When the mending of the fire was complete, she slid into a
+corner, and began to restore various misplaced books. James watched her
+for a minute or two with some amusement. Alice had spoken of this dark,
+singular, elfin girl. She lingered so long that he forgot her. At last a
+voice alarmed him, close at his ear.
+
+"If ye please--"
+
+He looked up--Jacky was emboldened.
+
+"If ye please--Miss Alice--"
+
+"What about Miss Alice?" asked James, kindly.
+
+"Just, is she quite well, Sir?" said Jacky, abashed.
+
+"Quite well, I am much obliged to you," said James.
+
+Jacky hovered still. Somewhat startled James Aytoun would have been, had
+he divined the eager question hanging upon her very lips:
+
+"Oh, if ye please, will they no let her be married on Mr. Lewis?" but
+Jacky restrained her interest in Alice Aytoun's fortunes, sufficiently
+to say: "Mrs. Catherine is coming, Sir!" and to glide out of the room.
+
+"James Aytoun!" exclaimed Mrs. Catherine, as Anne interrupted the
+indignant declamation of Marjory Falconer, to inform her of the
+stranger's arrival. "Ay! that is like a man; I am pleased with that. The
+lad must have, both sense and spirit.--Send down to Merkland for Lewis
+without delay, child, and come in with me to the library; the lad's
+business is with you, more than me. I like the spirit of him; there has
+been no milk-and-water drither, or lingering here. Come away."
+
+They entered the house. "Marjory Falconer," said Mrs. Catherine, "go up
+the stair, and wait till we come to you. Say nothing of yon to Archie;
+but, be you sure, I will stand no such thing from the hands of the evil
+pack of them--hounds!"
+
+Marjory obeyed; and Mrs. Catherine and Anne entered the library. The
+young man and the old lady exchanged looks of mutual respect. James
+Aytoun's prompt attention to this important matter, brought the full
+sunshine of Mrs. Catherine's favor upon him. She received him after her
+kindest fashion.
+
+"You are welcome to my house, James Aytoun; and it pleases me, that I
+can call a lad who give such prompt heed to the honor of this house
+kinsman. Are you wearied with your journey? or would you rather speak of
+the matter that brought you here at once?"
+
+"Certainly," said James, smiling in spite of himself, at this abrupt
+introduction of the subject, "I should much rather ascertain how this
+important matter stands, at once. Your letter surprised us very greatly,
+Mrs. Catherine; you will imagine that--and of course I feel it of the
+utmost consequence that I should lose no time in making myself
+acquainted with the particulars."
+
+"Wise and right," said Mrs. Catherine, approvingly, "and spoken like a
+forecasting and right-minded man. Sit down upon your seat, James Aytoun,
+and you shall hear the story."
+
+James seated himself.
+
+"Perhaps it would be well that I saw Mr. Ross?"
+
+"I have sent for Lewis," said Mrs. Catherine. "He will be here as soon
+as he is needed. This is his sister, Miss Ross, of Merkland. Anne, you
+are of more present use than Lewis--you will stay with us."
+
+They gathered round the table in silence. James Aytoun felt nervous and
+embarrassed--he did not know how to begin. Mrs. Catherine saved him from
+his difficulty.
+
+"James Aytoun, it would be putting a slight upon the manly and
+straightforward purpose that brought you here, if we were going about
+the bush in this matter, and did not speak clearly.--Your father was
+murdered--shot by a coward hand behind him. The whole world has laid the
+act upon Norman Rutherford. I have believed the same myself for eighteen
+years. Listen to me! I am not given to change, nor am I like to alter my
+judgment lightly; but now I declare to you, James Aytoun, that, far more
+clearly than ever I held his guilt, do I believe, and am sure, that
+Norman Rutherford was not the man."
+
+James was uneasy under the gaze of those large, keen eyes, and did not
+wish either to meet the earnest look of Anne Ross, who seemed to be
+watching so eagerly for his opinion.
+
+"I shall be most happy, Mrs. Catherine," he said, "to find that you have
+proof--that Mr. Ross has proof--sufficient for the establishment of
+this. I have certainly no feelings of revenge; but the crime which
+deprived Alice and myself of a father must of necessity keep the two
+families apart. I could not consent to any further intercouse between
+Mr. Ross and my sister on any other terms than those you mention. But
+the evidence is fearfully strong, Mrs. Catherine. Since my mother
+received your letter, I have examined it again thoroughly, and so far
+as circumstantial evidence can go, it is most clear and overwhelming. I
+shall be most happy to be convinced that the world has judged
+erroneously; but you will excuse me for receiving it with caution; if
+this unhappy young man--I beg your pardon, Miss Ross--had been brought
+before any court in Scotland, with the evidence, he must infallibly have
+been found guilty."
+
+"Anne," said Mrs. Catherine, "you have the letters."
+
+Anne drew them from her breast--she had a feeling of insecurity when
+they were not in her own immediate possession.
+
+"Had we not better wait till Lewis comes?"
+
+"No," said Mrs. Catherine. "What Lewis cares for, is the winning of the
+bairn Alice--what you care for, first and most specially, is the
+clearing of your brother's disgraced name. Norman is safest in your
+hands, Anne. Read the letters."
+
+"Mr. Aytoun," said Anne, with nervous firmness, "we have no systematic
+proof to lay before you. Anything which can directly meet and overcome
+the evidence of which you speak, remains still to be gathered--and it is
+possible, that this, on which we build our hopes, may seem but a very
+feeble foundation to you. In law, I suppose, it could have no weight for
+a moment: but yet to those who knew my brother Norman, and were
+acquainted with his peculiar temperament and nature, it carries absolute
+conviction.--I scarcely hope that it can have the same power of
+convincing you--but I pray you to receive as certainly true, before I
+read this, the judgment which all his friends pronounced upon my unhappy
+brother, before this dishonor came upon him. They call him the most
+truthful and generous of men: they distinguish him for these two
+qualities above all his compeers. Mrs. Catherine, I speak truly?"
+
+"Truthful as the course of nature itself, which the Almighty keeps from
+varying. Generous as the sun that He hath set to shine upon the just and
+the unjust. Do not linger, Anne: read Norman's letter."
+
+Anne lifted the letter, and glanced up at James before she began to
+read--his eyes were fixed upon her, his face was full of grave
+anxiety--convinced or unconvinced, she was sure at least of an attentive
+listener. She began to read--her voice trembling at first, as the quick
+throbbings of her heart almost choked it, but becoming hysterically
+strong, as she went on; her mind agitated as Norman's was when he wrote
+that letter, eager like him, by what repetitions or incoherent words
+soever, that were strongest and most suitable for the urgent purpose, to
+throw off the terrible accusation under which he lay: it was like no
+second party reading an old letter; it was the very voice and cry of one
+pleading for life--for more than life--for lost good fame and honor.
+
+James Aytoun's eyes were steadily fixed upon her; and as she closed the
+letter, her whole frame vibrating, he drew a long breath--that most
+grateful of all sounds to the ears of a speaker who desires to move and
+impress his audience. Anne looked up eagerly and anxious. He had covered
+his face with his hand. Neither of them spoke; until, at last, James
+raised his head:
+
+"May I see that letter, Miss Ross? Can you give it me?"
+
+Anne had omitted the sentence in which Norman mentioned his escape. She
+folded it in, and handed him the letter. He read it again carefully, and
+yet again. Besides the earnest agony of its words, there was a mute
+eloquence about that yellow, timeworn paper. Blisters of tears were on
+it: tears of terrible grief--tears of tremulous hope. Its very
+characters, abrupt and broken as they were, spoke as with a living
+voice. Nothing false--nothing feigned, could be in the desperate energy
+of that wild cry, the burden of Norman's self-defence: "I am innocent! I
+am innocent!"
+
+"Miss Ross," said James Aytoun, "there never was man convicted from
+clearer evidence than that which has persuaded the world of your
+brother's guilt. I cannot comprehend it--my faith is shaken. I confess
+to you, that I feel this letter to be true--that I can no longer think
+of him as the murderer."
+
+Anne tried to smile--she could not. A stranger--a man prejudiced against
+Norman--the son of the dead. The tears came over her cheeks in a burst
+of joy. She thought it the voice of universal acquittal: she forgot all
+the difficulties that remained--Norman was saved.
+
+The library-door opened, and Lewis entered. Mrs. Catherine rose, and
+presented him to James: the two young men shook hands with an
+involuntary cordiality, at which they were themselves astonished. Anne
+was conquering herself again; but joy seemed so much more difficult to
+keep in bounds, and restrain, than sorrow was. She had little experience
+of the first--much of the other. She started up, and laid her hand on
+Lewis's arm.
+
+"Lewis, Lewis! the way is clearing before us. Mr. Aytoun gives us his
+support. Mr. Aytoun thinks him innocent!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+Lewis Ross was undergoing a process of amelioration. From his earliest
+days he had been taught to consider himself the person of greatest
+importance in Merkland; and the pernicious belief had evolved itself in
+a very strong and deeply-rooted selfishness, to which the final touch
+and consummation had been given by his foreign travel. Thrown then, with
+his natural abilities, always very quick and sharp, if not of the
+highest order, upon the noisy current of the world, with no other
+occupation than to take care of himself--to attend to his own
+comforts--to scheme and deliberate for his own enjoyments, the
+self-important boy had unconsciously risen into a selfish man, having no
+idea that a supreme regard for his own well-being and comfort was not
+the most reasonable and proper centre, round which his cares and hopes
+could revolve.
+
+He returned home. The home routine was going on as before. The servants,
+his mother, Anne, all did homage to the superior importance of Lewis. He
+received it as his due. These were but satellites; he, himself, was the
+planet of their brief horizon. Little Alice helped the delusion on; her
+simple heart yielded with so little resistance to his fascinations.
+
+All at once the dream was rudely broken. Anne, his quiet, serviceable
+sister, he suddenly found to be absorbed by the concerns of this unknown
+Norman, whose very name was strange to him. His own little Alice must
+consider the pleasure of her mother and brother before his. Lewis was
+suddenly stopped short in his career of complacent selfishness. The
+people round him were ready to risk all things for each other. Mrs.
+Catherine's wealth and lands were nothing to her, as she said, in
+comparison with the welfare of Archibald Sutherland, who had no nearer
+claim upon her than that of being the son of her friend. Anne's whole
+soul was engrossed with anxiety for the deliverance of Norman: her own
+self did not cost her a thought. Mr. Ferguson and Mr. Foreman were
+spending time and labor heartily in the service of the broken laird, who
+could make them no return: and worst of all, they expected that Lewis
+also should join in that Quixotry, as a necessary and unavoidable duty,
+without even thinking that by so doing he would deserve any particular
+praise. In the fastnesses of his self-content, Lewis was shaken.
+
+Then came James Aytoun, the stranger, to whom this Norman, whose very
+name inspired Anne, was, and could be nothing, except, indeed, a
+detested criminal--the supposed murderer of his father. He came, he saw:
+and lo! he was deeper into the heart of the struggle than Lewis had ever
+been: believing Norman's innocence--declaring his intention of joining
+Robert Ferguson immediately, and assisting in his investigations;
+consulting with Anne in frank confidence, and with a far more genuine
+sympathy than had ever been awakened in the colder heart of Lewis.
+
+The young Laird of Merkland was overpowered: the contagion of James
+Aytoun's hearty, manly feeling, of his ready and quick belief, smote
+Lewis with a sense of his own unenviable singularity. The cloak of self
+he had been wrapped in began to loosen, and drop away; he began to
+realise the sad lot of his exiled brother, continually waiting for the
+kind search, and acquitting justice, which should bring him home again;
+and growing sick with deferred and fainting hope, as year after year
+went by, and there came no kindly token over the sea. The letter,
+instinct now with the breath of earnest belief, which had carried it
+into those other hearts, began to operate upon Lewis. He sat down
+between James Aytoun and Anne; he took a part in their consultations; he
+forgot himself, in thinking of Norman. The divine rod had stricken the
+desert rock once more, and the freshness of new life--a life for
+others--a life for the world, dawned upon Lewis Ross.
+
+Anne and James were already conversing like intimate friends. Lewis,
+with his natural frankness, was soon as deep in the subject as they.
+Anne's face brightened as she looked upon him. Mrs. Catherine sent him
+now and then a word of kindly harshness, more affectionately than was
+her wont. Their plans were being laid.
+
+"And I would ask of you, James Aytoun," said Mrs. Catherine, "for what
+reason that ill-favored buckie of a gig is standing at my door? and what
+business the cripple helper from the Portoran inn has among my servants?
+I must take order with this."
+
+"The man is waiting for me," said James. "I must return home to-morrow,
+Mrs. Catherine--and the day is waning. I must get into Portoran soon."
+
+"You must not think," said Mrs. Catherine, "of crossing my threshold
+this night again. Hold your peace, young man: there is no voice lifted
+under this roof with authority but mine, and I will not have it. Jacky!"
+Jacky made her appearance at the door--"let the man that drove Mr.
+Aytoun up, get his dinner, and then tell your mother he is not to
+wait--Mr. Aytoun does not return to-night. And now, young folk, are you
+nearly through with your consulting? I have a visitor waiting for me up
+the stair."
+
+"You decide to go with me to-morrow, Mr. Ross?" said James.
+
+"Yes, certainly," said Lewis. "I will not do much good I dare say; but I
+shall, at least, be on the spot."
+
+"You are done, are you?" said Mrs. Catherine. "James Aytoun I have
+another matter to speak to you about. Has a stranger in the country--the
+purchaser of an old estate--any shadow of a right to shut up a road
+which has been the property of the folk of this parish of Strathoran,
+since beyond the memory of man?"
+
+"No," said James, "no proprietor has--of however long standing he may
+be."
+
+"Not myself say you?" said Mrs. Catherine, "that is another thing, James
+Aytoun. My house has held this land for many generations. I have a
+right of service from the people; but an upstart--a laird by purchase,
+by purchase, said I?--by cheatry and secret theftdom, nothing better!
+There is a creature of this kind upon the lands of Strathoran, and the
+way by the waterside is blocked up this day--a kirk road! a by-way as
+old as the tenure of my lands!--the cattle never did a worse thing for
+their own peacefulness. The road shall return to the folk it rightfully
+belongs to, if I should have the whole reprobate pack of them before the
+Court of Session!"
+
+"Who is the proprietor?" said James.
+
+"Lord Gillravidge," answered Lewis.
+
+"Lord Gillravidge? Hold your peace, Lewis Ross, when folk are not
+speaking to you, as one of your years should. The house of Strathoran
+has been a sinful house, James Aytoun, and Providence has sent upon it a
+plague of frogs, as was sent upon Egypt in the time of Israel's
+captivity--puddocks that have the gift of venom over and above the
+native slime of them. The proprietor is Archibald Sutherland, who is
+dwelling in my house at this moment; but the lad has let his possessions
+slip through his fingers, and the vermin are in them. I would take the
+law with me. What should be my first step, James Aytoun, for the
+recovery of the road?"
+
+"Throw down the barricade," said Lewis.
+
+"Lewis Ross, I have told you to hold your peace--though I will not say
+but what there are glimmerings of discernment breaking through the
+shell; tell Alice from me, James Aytoun, that the youth, if he were once
+through this season of vanity, gives promise of more judgment than I
+looked for at his hands. It is not my wont to wait for other folk's
+bidding, Lewis--the barricade is down before now; but what order is it
+right that I should take, if the cattle put it up again?"
+
+"Had you not better try a remonstrance, Mrs. Catherine," said James. "It
+may have been done in ignorance."
+
+"Remonstrance! a bonnie story that I should condescend to remonstrate
+with the hounds. Where are you going, Anne? Did I not bid ye remain with
+us?"
+
+"You forget that Marjory is up stairs, Mrs. Catherine," said Anne.
+
+"I forget no such thing--the bairns are mad! counselling me with their
+wisdom in my own house--and that minds me that I am forgetting the
+comfort of the stranger like a self-seeking old wife as I am. James
+Aytoun, I will let you see your room--and you, bairns, remain where you
+are, and dine with him. You are like to be near kindred--it is right you
+should be friends."
+
+Mrs. Catherine led James Aytoun away, and Anne and Lewis joined Marjory
+in the drawing-room, where, the fumes of her indignation scarcely over,
+she had been firmly shutting her lips for the last hour, lest some hint
+of the shut-up by-way should escape them, to pain the landless
+Archibald.
+
+They spent the evening pleasantly together. James Aytoun was fresh from
+that peculiar society of Edinburgh, whose intellectual progress is the
+pulse of Scotland, healthful, strong, and bold, as its beatings have
+been for these past centuries. His own compeers and companions were the
+rising generation--lawyers, physicians, clergymen, literati, whom the
+course of some score years would find in the highest places there. The
+intellectual life and activity which breathed out from his very
+conversation, stimulated Lewis. These pursuits of science and
+literature--those professional matters even, to the consideration of
+which intellect so elevated and acute was devoted, gave the country
+laird a new idea of the pleasure and dignity of life. Labor--healthful,
+vigorous, energetic, manly labor--not vacant ease of frivolous
+enjoyment, was the thing esteemed in that lettered community of
+beautiful Edinburgh, the names of whose toiling, daring, chivalrous,
+intellectual workmen, would be household words to the next wave of
+Scottish population--would have risen into the mental firmament ere
+then, stars for a world to see.
+
+It was a particularly happy thing for Lewis at this especial time, his
+encounter with James Aytoun; the unselfish breadth of his good mind and
+heart, the generous start to exertion, the clear health and readiness of
+all his well cultured faculties, and his frank and instinctive energy,
+carried with them all the better part of Lewis Ross's nature. Their
+visitor, with his intelligent conversation, and well-cultivated mind,
+pleased and made friends of them all; but conferred especial benefit and
+invigoration upon Lewis.
+
+The next day they left the Tower together. Lewis, with his old
+self-confidence, believing himself sure to help on the search mightily
+by his presence; but yet so much more earnest and unselfish in his
+desire to see the truth established, that Anne's heart rejoiced within
+her. Mrs. Ross was sulkily reconciling herself to the obvious necessity.
+She was by no means interested in the result of the investigation, and
+was inclined to hope that it would be unsuccessful, and that Lewis might
+be released from his engagement, yet, nevertheless, prepared herself,
+with much sullenness and ill-humor, for "the worst."
+
+Anne accompanied Lewis, in the morning, to the Tower, to bid James
+good-by, and charge him with various kindly messages, and some little
+tokens of sisterly good-will for Alice. At Mrs. Catherine's desire she
+remained. Mrs. Catherine had already despatched Andrew with the
+following missive to Strathoran:
+
+"Mrs. Catherine Douglas, of the Tower, desires that Lord Gillravidge
+will explain to her, at his earliest leisure, his motive for shutting up
+the by-way upon Oranside--a thing both unreasonable and unlawful, and
+which she has no thought of submitting to for a day. The path belongs to
+the people of the parish, who had dwelt upon the land for centuries,
+before ever it passed into Lord Gillravidge's tenantcy. Mrs. Catherine
+Douglas desires Lord Gillravidge to know that he has done what is
+contrary to the law of the land, and expects to have an immediate reason
+rendered to her, for the insult and hardship inflicted upon her people
+and parish, by the closing of a known kirk road, and public way."
+
+Mrs. Catherine and her household were busied in preparation for
+Archibald's departure. Mrs. Catherine herself was hemming with a very
+fine needle, and almost invisible thread, breadths of transparent
+cambric, for the shirts which her three generations of domestics, Mrs.
+Elspat Henderson, Mrs. Euphan Morison, and Jacky, were occupied in
+making.
+
+"And child," said Mrs. Catherine, "I like not idle greives. If you are
+not pleased with Jacky's stitching, take the other breast
+yourself--there is plenty to hold you all busy. I have no brood of young
+folk, sitting with their hands before them. What did you get clear
+eyesight and quick fingers for?"
+
+Anne took the work--into no unknown or "'prentice hand," would it have
+been confided. Mrs. Catherine's "white seam" was elaborated into a
+positive work of art. Within her strong spirit, and covered by her harsh
+speech, there lay so much of that singular delicacy, which could endure
+nothing coarse or unsuitable, that the smallest household matters came
+within its operation. Mrs. Catherine had little faith in the existence
+of fine taste or delicate perceptions, in conjunction with a coarse or
+disorderly "seam." Would modern young ladies think her judgment correct?
+
+"Archie is in Portoran," said Mrs. Catherine, after a little time had
+elapsed, during which the fine work and cheerful conversation proceeded
+in brisk and pleasant unison. "There are still some matters to be
+settled with Mr. Foreman, and he expects the letter the day that will
+fix his going to Glasgow. We are nothing less than a bundle of
+contradictions, child, we unsatisfied human folk. It was my own special
+desire and wish that the lad should verily plunge himself into some
+labor for the redemption of his land; now I have a drither at letting
+him go away to a mere, hard money-getting work, where little of either
+heart or head is needed."
+
+"Little heart, perhaps," said Anne; "but, at least, the head must be
+very necessary, Mrs. Catherine."
+
+"You do not know," answered Mrs. Catherine. "Head! I tell you, child, I
+have seen divers in my youth who had gathered great fortunes by trade,
+and yet were vaporing, empty-headed, purse-proud fuils; beginning by
+running errands, and sweeping shops, and the like, and ending by making
+bairnly fuils of themselves, to the laughter of the vain and
+thoughtless, and to the shame of right-minded folk. We have other
+imaginations of merchantmen, child; we give them a state and
+circumstance that the men are as innocent of, as Johnnie Halflin out
+there. We think of the old days when merchants were princes, and of them
+that stood afar off, and wailed for Babylon. There are some such,
+doubtless, now, but it is not always the best that are the most
+fortunate. And to think of Archie living for years among folk to whom
+the paltry siller is the sole god and good in this world or the next.
+Maybe, child--maybe in the rebound of his carelessness, getting to like
+the yellow dirt himself for its own sake!"
+
+"No fear," said Anne. "Archibald is able to stand the probation in every
+way, I trust, Mrs. Catherine; and it is but a means--it is not an end."
+
+"Ay," said Mrs. Catherine. "The youth has a great stake.--He is a
+changed man, child, so far as we may form a judgment. Wherefore should I
+ever have doubted it? As if true prayers could lie unanswered before the
+Throne for ever!"
+
+Jacky opened the door.
+
+"If ye please--"
+
+"What you elf? Can you no speak out?"
+
+"It's--it's the man--the stranger"--Jacky remembered her former
+description of him, but scorned to repeat herself; "that came to the
+Tower with Mr. Foreman. If ye please, will I bring him in?"
+
+"The jackal--the fuil that does Lord Gillravidge's errands," said Mrs.
+Catherine. "I am lothe that the feet of an unclean animal should come
+within this room, but what can I do, child? The library is Archie's
+especial room, and if he comes in, I would like ill that he saw any of
+this evil crew."
+
+"He had better come here," said Anne.
+
+Mrs. Catherine made a motion of disgust.
+
+"Hear you, you imp! Is he alone?"
+
+"There's a gentleman with him," said Jacky. "No a grown-up man--just
+young like--but he's a gentleman."
+
+"Bring them up here."
+
+Jacky disappeared, and, in a moment after, ushered Mr. Fitzherbert, and
+the good-humored, fair-haired lad, who had been with him when Alice
+Aytoun was intercepted on the way, into the room. Mrs. Catherine's note
+had been the subject of considerable mirth at Strathoran. The Honorable
+Giles Sympelton, in particular, had been exceedingly amused at the idea
+of the old lady "showing fight," and had proposed and urged, something
+against Fitzherbert's will, this present expedition. Mr. Fitzherbert
+was elaborately polite and high-bred. The young man was in high spirits,
+overflowing with suppressed laughter, and anticipating capital fun.
+
+Mrs. Catherine rose, drew up her stately figure, and remained standing.
+Mr. Fitzherbert bowed with agreeable condescension. The Honorable Giles
+was startled out of his laughter.--That strong, vigorous, stately old
+lady was not a person to be trifled with.
+
+"Lord Gillravidge, Madam," began Mr. Fitzherbert, "received your
+communication, and would have been most happy to have made your
+acquaintance personally, had it not been for the misfortune of a
+previous engagement. He has requested me to represent him--quite
+unworthy, certainly--but, having the honor to be acquainted with his
+sentiments, shall be glad to give any explanation that you desire."
+
+"I require no explanation from Lord Gillravidge," said Mrs. Catherine,
+"except of his purpose concerning this unlawful deed he has done. Will
+he give it up of his own will, or will he be forced to do it? That is
+all I desire to know of Lord Gillravidge."
+
+Mr. Fitzherbert seated himself unbidden.
+
+"Beg you will permit me to make a brief explanation. Lord Gillravidge
+has the tenderest regard for feelings--indulgent even to a little
+natural prejudice--means everything to be done in the most friendly
+manner. I assure you, Madam, I can explain everything with the greatest
+ease."
+
+The Honorable Giles was still standing. The lad began to have some
+perception that this was not a place for boyish mirth or derision. Anne
+silently invited him to be seated.
+
+Mrs. Catherine grew still more stately and erect. She would not
+condescend to be angry.
+
+"I desire no explanations at Lord Gillravidge's hands. Will he throw the
+by-way open, or will he not?"
+
+Mr. Fitzherbert smiled insinuatingly.
+
+"Your kind indulgence, Madam--but for a moment. I shall take care not to
+exhaust your patience, knowing that ladies are not distinguished for
+patience, a good quality though--I beg your pardon, Madam. I am sorry to
+see I keep you standing."
+
+"Be not troubled, Sir," said Mrs. Catherine, with bitter contempt; "but
+make yourself sure that a whole tribe like you would keep me in no
+position that did not please myself."
+
+"Sorry to have the misfortune of displeasing you, Madam," said the
+imperturbable Fitzherbert. "Had not the least intention of offence, I
+assure you--return to the subject. Lord Gillravidge, Madam, is actuated
+by the best feelings--the utmost desire to be on friendly terms. He only
+needs to be known to be appreciated. An excellent neighbor, a warm
+friend--altogether, a remarkable person, is my friend, Lord
+Gillravidge."
+
+"Fitz, Fitz!" whispered his young companion, reprovingly.
+
+Mrs. Catherine turned round, and looked at the lad with grave concern,
+and some interest.
+
+"His Lordship is willing to be perfectly tolerant," continued Mr.
+Fitzherbert; "to give way to prejudices, and make allowance for angry
+feelings--and of course he expects to be as well used in return. 'Do
+unto others,'--it is natural that he should look for the same in
+return."
+
+Mrs. Catherine waved her hand.
+
+"A lady of refined tastes, such as I have the honor of addressing, must
+perfectly understand the peculiar feelings and excessive delicacy and
+retirement of my accomplished friend. Feels himself quite wounded by
+vulgar intrusion--shrinks, above all things, from public
+notice--extremely susceptible by nature, and of the most delicate
+constitution."
+
+Mrs. Catherine stamped her foot impatiently.
+
+"Is it the Comus of yon crew of transformed cattle that the man ventures
+to profane such words upon?"
+
+"Sorry to be so misapprehended," said Mr. Fitzherbert, with an
+assumption of dignity. "Mere false reports, and vulgar misunderstanding
+of elegant leisure, and refined amusements--perfectly unfounded, I
+assure you, Madam. Lord Gillravidge should be judged by his peers, not
+by a set of barbarous rustics."
+
+"Be silent, Sir," said Mrs. Catherine. "I understand well the people of
+this parish should be judged by their peers, and that is another race
+than yours. Beware how you lay ill names, in my presence, upon the
+natives of this soil!"
+
+"Beg pardon, Madam, I am unfortunate in my subjects--had no idea you
+were specially interested in illiterate peasants. I beg you yourself
+will do his Lordship the honor of considering his position. I know him
+so intimately, that I can speak with confidence of his excessive
+delicacy and nervous refinement of constitution--quite remarkable, I
+assure you."
+
+"And what is all this to me?" exclaimed Mrs. Catherine. "Think you I
+care the value of a straw for the nerves of your lordling? Will he
+persist in this folly, or will he not? His constitution may be either
+iron or glass, besides, for any concern I have in the matter."
+
+"Your patience, Madam," said the smiling Fitzherbert, "I mention these
+characteristics in explanation. My lord is a stranger, not acquainted
+with the superior character of the natives of this soil. A most
+distinguished peasantry, moral and intelligent--but vulgar nevertheless,
+and intruding on his privacy. There is some natural hauteur
+perhaps--what might be expected from an English nobleman of high
+family, accustomed to all the privileges of exalted rank, and shrinking
+from undue familiarity. He really cannot bear intrusion, and therefore
+shut up the by-way--positively compelled by his delicate
+feelings--trains of rustics passing through his private grounds! His
+Lordship could not permit it."
+
+Mrs. Catherine could bear this no longer--she was walking through the
+room in towering wrath and indignation.
+
+"An English nobleman! an English cheat and sharper! enjoying his
+ill-gotten gains under a roof, that I marvel does not fall upon the
+reprobate cattle he has gathered below it. Vulgar intrusion! the
+passing-by of honorable men and women, that would not change the honest
+name of their birth, for the disgrace of his wealth and his sin. _His_
+private grounds! and who, if it were not the master-spirit of all
+iniquity, procured that the fair lands of Strathoran should ever brook
+him as their lord? You, your very self, pitiful animal as you are, the
+hired servant of this prosperous iniquity, doing its evil bidding, are
+scarce so abhorrent to decent folk as the master of you; the malignant
+tempting spirit, that led an innocent youth into the mire of sin and
+folly, that he might rob him of his inheritance; and now, can venture
+here, in the very face of me, who know his villanies, to set up for a
+man of delicate frame and tender mind, shrinking from the lawful
+passers-by of a peaceable parish; folk of lineage and blood, if that
+were all, an hundred-fold better than himself!"
+
+Vehemently, and inspired with indignation, Mrs. Catherine spoke, the
+floor thrilling beneath her hasty steps.
+
+"Fitz," whispered the astonished lad, "the old lady has the best of
+it--she's right."
+
+Fitzherbert assumed an air of offended innocence. "Really, Madam, after
+this language--I am amazed--astonished!"--
+
+"And who, think ye, in this house or country is concerned, that you
+should be astonished or amazed?" interrupted Mrs. Catherine; "or what
+are you, that I should hold parley with your like, and profane the air
+of my dwelling with your master's unclean name? Answer me my demand with
+as much truthfulness as is in you, and begone from my house. I will have
+the breath of no such vermin near me."
+
+"Upon my word!" exclaimed the astounded Fitzherbert, "this is perfectly
+unparalleled; if a gentleman were using such language to me--"
+
+"You would fight him," said Mrs. Catherine, disdainfully. "Ay! presuming
+that he was inclined so to demean himself, and was not content with
+laying his whip about your shoulders, as Marjory Falconer did."
+
+Fitzherbert started up, enraged. "I can hold no communication with a
+person who delights in insulting me. You shall rue this, Madam, you
+shall rue this!"
+
+"Fitz," said the Honorable Giles, interposing as he passed to the door,
+"Gillravidge will be angry; you have not arranged this."
+
+"And with your permission," added Mrs. Catherine, "I say you do not
+leave this house till my question is answered."
+
+Poor Fitzherbert could not afford to incur the anger of Lord
+Gillravidge. He was compelled to content himself with many humiliations,
+and this among the rest.
+
+"Madam!, in consideration of my friend's business, I overlook these
+personalities. Lord Gillravidge is, as I have said, a man of ancient
+family, and high breeding, belonging to a most exclusive aristocratic
+circle, and will not have his privacy broken. His Lordship hoped to be
+understood--the peculiar feeling of high birth, and necessity for
+retirement--and must continue to trust that a lady, herself of some
+station, will offer no opposition."
+
+"Ancient family!" exclaimed Mrs. Catherine. "Does your English lordling,
+whose name no man ever heard tell of, till he came to take possession of
+his prey, dare to say that to me, who can trace my lineage, without
+break or blot, back to the dark gray man! Tell the reprobate master of
+you, that my house was set down upon this land, before ever the rank
+soil and unwholesome heat of cities had brought forth the first ancestor
+of your evil brood. Tell him, that this people is my people, and that
+his good blood is a mean fraud, if he does not honor the honorable folk
+native to a free land. Further, I will spare neither time nor siller to
+recover them their right; either he will throw open the road this very
+day, or he will suffer the immediate judgment of the law--I leave him
+his choice; and now, the need for bearing the sight of you is over,
+carry my message, and depart from my house."
+
+Fitzherbert did not linger. Young Sympelton rose to follow him.
+
+"Sir," said Mrs. Catherine, "you are young to be in such evil hands.
+Tarry a moment, I would speak further to you."
+
+The lad hesitated. Fitzherbert was already descending the stair.
+
+"Sit down," said Mrs. Catherine. "I have something to say to you."
+
+The lad obeyed.
+
+"Have you been long in the keeping of these vile cattle? I am meaning,
+have you been long in the unwholesome neighborhood of that man?"
+
+The Honorable Giles laughed; tried to be very frank, and at his ease,
+and answered that he had been a month at Strathoran.
+
+"Dwelling night and day under the shadow of uncleanness and all
+iniquity. Young man, to whom do you belong? Has nobody charge of you?"
+
+To which the Honorable Giles responded, somewhat offended, that he was
+quite able to take care of himself.
+
+"Are you?" said Mrs. Catherine; "you are the first of your years that I
+ever knew capable of doing so. Have you father or mother living?"
+
+"My father is: he's in France," said young Sympelton: "my mother is
+dead."
+
+"Ay, it is even as I thought. Poor motherless lad, trusted in such
+company. Is your father in his senses, that he perils you thus?"
+
+"In his senses! what do you mean?" exclaimed the Honorable Giles.
+
+"I will tell you, what I mean. You have a youthful face, that looks as
+if it did not know vice yet, for its own hand. If I tell you there is a
+deadly plague in that house, will you believe me, and flee from it?"
+
+The youth looked at her in amazement.
+
+"I tell you, young man, there is a mortal malady in that house of
+Strathoran; a sickness that will kill more than your life; that will
+strip you of good fame and honor, or ever you have entered the world;
+and make you a bankrupt, ruined, disgraced man, when you should be but a
+fresh, youthful, ingenuous man. Mind what I am saying; there are
+serpents yonder, deadlier than the snakes of India. Do not sleep under
+that roof another night. Go home to your father, and tell him
+henceforward to keep an eye on your wanderings himself, and no trust
+you, a precious laddie, as ye no doubt are to him, to the warning of a
+stranger."
+
+The young man laughed; he did not know how to understand this, though
+the kindness of the strange, stern old lady, moved as much as it
+astonished him.
+
+"Oh! that's because you've quarrelled with Gillravidge."
+
+"I quarrel with no vermin," said Mrs. Catherine. "If I cannot cast the
+plague out of a land, I warn the healthful and innocent from its
+borders. Young man! I know not so much as your name; but six or seven
+years ago, a youth, very dear to me, was as you are, blythe, happy, full
+of promise, well endowed, and honored. The reptile brood you are among
+got their meshes over him--corrupted his young mind, broke his blythe
+spirit, devoured his substance, defrauded him of his land, and then left
+him--a sinful, broken man, to struggle with his bitter repentance and
+misery as he best could. Beware, young man--beware of your youth--beware
+of the gladness that must depart for evermore, if you once taste of that
+cup of vice. You have a terrible stake in it; for the sake of all that
+you have, or can gain in this world and the next, come out of that
+sinful house. I will give you the shelter of mine if ye desire it. I
+cannot see a young man like what ye are, or seem, lost to all honest
+uses, and not put forth my hand."
+
+Young Sympelton rose--he lingered--hesitated--there was dew under his
+eyelids; he was ashamed that any one could have moved him so--_him_, a
+man!
+
+Fitzherbert thrust in his head at the door--laughed derisively.
+
+"Ah, a young penitent--very interesting--old lady preaching at him."
+
+The youth dashed out and ran down the stair.
+
+They saw him immediately after, arm-in-arm with the tempter, returning
+to Strathoran.
+
+"Anne, dear child," said Mrs. Catherine, "the look of that youth's face
+has made my heart sore. I have warned him--I can help him in no other
+way. The Lord requite the reprobate race that are leading young spirits
+to destruction."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+Mr. George Lumsden, the manager of Messrs. Sutor and Sinclair's Glasgow
+house, was desirous that Mr. Sutherland should enter immediately on his
+probation. So said the letter which Mr. Foreman read to Archibald, while
+Mrs. Catherine was receiving at the Tower the emissaries from
+Strathoran. The good lawyer was in high spirits at the successful issue
+of his negotiations. Archibald was satisfied that his work was now so
+near a beginning. Mr. Ferguson acquiesced with a sigh. There were no
+further obstacles in the way. Next morning, it was arranged, Archibald
+should leave Portoran.
+
+He rode home to the Tower in a slight excitement of mingled regret and
+hopefulness. He was sadly wanting in that placid equanimity whose calm
+is not disturbed by change. He felt these variations of the firmament of
+his fortune, as the sea feels the wind, answering no less swiftly to the
+curl of the lightest breeze, than to the sweep of the gale which
+chronicles its progress in stories of shipwreck and death. He felt it a
+very momentous thing, this second beginning of his course. Formerly, he
+had left his native district with every adventitious help--favored of
+fortune, rich in friends--yet had returned a ruined, solitary man. Now
+he went forth with every favoring circumstance withdrawn--his own
+strength and the help of Providence--no other aid to trust to--how, or
+in what sort, should he make his second return?
+
+Mrs. Catherine's preparations were not quite completed: one half of the
+abundant outfit which she was preparing for her adventurer, would need
+to be sent after him to Glasgow. By earliest daybreak the next morning,
+Mrs. Euphan Morison herself began to make ready the heap of delicate and
+snowy linen, the making of which had occupied their time of late. At
+eleven Archibald was to set out.
+
+He had time that morning to visit Merkland, to take leave of Mrs. Ross,
+and with much silent sorrow, and an indefinite understanding which
+expressed itself in no words, to bid farewell to Anne. Both of them were
+immersed in other cares and occupations. A solitary and long warfare lay
+before Archibald. Concerning matters private to themselves, both were
+heroically silent. They parted, each knowing the strong, honorable, true
+heart that was within the other--each aware of the other's entire and
+full sympathy--in grave faith, fortitude, patience; and with a silent
+regret, that spoke more powerfully than words.
+
+Mrs. Catherine was in the little room; she had spent most of the morning
+there. She had provided Archibald with all temporal necessities--she was
+pleading now, before God, for that other, and yet more needful spiritual
+providing, which should keep him blameless, in the warfare of an evil
+world. No vain repetitions were there in that speechless agony of
+supplication: the strong spirit, with its mighty grasp of faith, was
+wrestling for a blessing--for prosperity and success, if it should
+please the Giver of all Good; but, above all earthly success and
+prosperity, for purity and deliverance from sin. Half an hour before the
+time of his departure, the young man joined her.
+
+"Archie," said Mrs. Catherine, "I desired to say my last words to you
+here: you mind your return to my house--you mind your covenant with me,
+before God, and within the shadow of Sholto Douglas, my one brother,
+whom, if it had not been otherwise ordained, you might have drawn your
+name and blood from--Archie Sutherland, you mind your covenant?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"In whatever circumstances the Lord may place you--in peril, in toil, in
+striving with the world harder than that, in ease, and peace, and
+prosperity, if it be His will to give you these: with a single eye, and
+an honest heart, and in the strength of Him that saved you, you will
+resist sin. Archie Sutherland, you hold by your covenant? you plight me
+your word again?"
+
+"Most earnestly--most truthfully. You trust me, Mrs. Catherine?"
+
+"I trust you, Archie. The Lord uphold and strengthen you in your
+goings-out, and in your comings-in!" There was a pause.--"And have you
+gotten everything right, Archie? are you sure there is nothing wanting
+that you will need, or that I can get for ye?"
+
+"Nothing," said Archibald. "You are only too lavish in your kindness,
+Mrs. Catherine; you forget that I am but a poor adventurer now."
+
+"Hush!" said Mrs. Catherine. "Kindness is not a word to be between your
+mother's son and me. Ay, Archie, you are an adventurer; mind it is no
+common errand you are going forth upon. To the like of you, hope is the
+natural breath and common air--the hopes of age are solemn ventures, our
+last and weightiest--when they fail, there is no new upspringing in the
+pithless soil that many hopes have withered and died upon, like
+September leaves. Archie, the last great hope of an aged woman is
+embarked in your labor. See--look where my first sun set--the darkness
+of its sinking is not out of my heart yet. You might have been of my own
+blood, boy; you might have borne the name of Sholto Douglas! Now the
+last of them all is on your head.--Archie Sutherland, be mindful of it;
+let me see you honorably home in your own land, before I go to another
+country."
+
+Archibald answered her almost incoherently: "If it was within the power
+of man--if any toil could accomplish it--"
+
+The phæton was at the door; Andrew and Johnnie Halflin were placing the
+traveller's trunks upon it, while Mrs. Euphan Morison, portly and broad,
+stood in the doorway superintending. The hour drew very near.
+
+"And there is yet another thing," said Mrs. Catherine.--"Archie, it
+happens whiles that prosperity is not in the power of man--if toil
+cannot accomplish it--if the blessing that maketh rich, comes not upon
+your labor, I charge you to spend no time in vain repinings, nor to be
+cast down beyond measure: mind at all times that my house is open to
+you--that if you have no other shelter in the wide world, under this
+roof there constantly remains for you a home. I say, mind this, Archie,
+as the last charge I lay upon you. If you are like to be overcome in
+your striving, come home; if your heart grows faint within you, and you
+find only weariness in your plans of merchandize instead of fortune,
+come home--you can come at no time when you will not be dearly welcome.
+Mind, Archie Sutherland, I say to you, mind! that let the world smile
+upon you or frown upon you as it lists, you have a home to come to--a
+household blythe to welcome you!"
+
+The time had come at last. The hope of return in his heart bowed down
+under the heaviness of his farewell, Archibald seated himself in the
+vehicle, and seizing the reins, drove hastily away, not trusting himself
+to look back again. When he had reached the high road he paused once
+more, to answer the mute farewell waved to him from within the enclosure
+of Merkland, and then turned resolutely away--away from genial home,
+warm friends, affection, sympathy, to cold toil and friendless labor, an
+uncongenial atmosphere, a strange country. His heart swelled within
+him--his breast tightened--his eyes overflowed. Years must pass, with
+all their unknown vicissitudes, before he looked again upon those
+familiar faces--before he saw his own country again lie beautiful and
+calm beneath the sun. He quickened his pace, keeping time with the rapid
+current of his thoughts. For home--for friends--for country--all his
+labor, all his endurance, would be for these: was it for him to repine,
+or murmur, with his work and his reward before him? The remembrance
+stirred his spirit like a trumpet, and the home voice of the Oran stole
+in upon his thoughts chiming so hopefully and brave:
+
+    "Speed thy labor o'er land and sea,
+     Home and kindred are waiting for thee!"
+
+The remainder of the month passed quietly away; the little world of
+Strathoran was unusually still. Jeanie and Ada Mina Coulter began to
+weary for the marriage, which rumor said would shortly bring a very
+youthful, blue-eyed bride to Merkland, and for the festivities and
+party-givings consequent thereupon. Miss Falconer was unusually quiet.
+Walter Foreman, John Coulter and their set, had scarcely any new feats
+or new speeches of Marjory's to make mirthful comments on. She was
+becoming intimate with a sober, stout, cheerful, elderly lady, who wore
+one unvarying dress of black silk, and was Mr. Lumsden's (of Portoran)
+unmarried elder sister. Miss Lumsden had taken a decided liking for the
+strange, wild, eccentric girl, whose exploits kept all the parish
+amused; and had resided one whole fortnight in the immediate vicinity of
+the Falcon's Craig stables and kennel, in order to assist and counsel
+her young friend in the onerous duties of housekeeping. To Miss
+Lumsden's honor be it spoken, she returned to the orderly and quiet
+Manse, more stanchly Miss Falconer's friend than ever, and that in spite
+of the very decided hand with which Marjory held the reins of government
+at Falcon's Craig, barely admitting counsel, and by no means tolerating
+assistance.
+
+Mr. Foreman, to the great amazement of Lord Gillravidge and his friends,
+had served upon them sundry mystic papers, interdicting them from their
+obstruction of the by-way. Lord Gillravidge resisted, and the case was
+to be tried before the Court of Session.
+
+Mrs. Catherine's stately quietude was broken by the successive charges
+of this legal war; the old lady entered into it keenly, anathematizing
+with no lack of vehemence the "hounds" who were usurping the possession
+of the dignified house of Strathoran.--The more than ordinary stillness
+of the district brought out the excesses of Lord Gillravidge's household
+in prominent and bold relief. The country people told sad tales of
+these--exaggerated no doubt by their own simple habits, and by their
+thorough dislike to the new-comer; but still possessing some foundation
+of truth.
+
+Lewis Ross, with James Aytoun and Robert Ferguson, were hard at work in
+the fair parish on the south bank of "_the_ Firth," where stood the
+desolate mansion of Redheugh, and where Arthur Aytoun met his fate.
+Lewis and James were resident in the village inn, Robert had his
+quarters in a comfortable farm-house at some distance from them. They
+were pursuing their inquiry with all diligence. In Lewis's letters to
+Anne, were recorded the long walks they took, the long conversations in
+peasant houses, to which they were compelled to submit, in return for
+the scraps of information gathered, the immense quantity of country
+gossip, with which the history was interlarded, and the very slow
+progress they made in their search. Many of the elder cottagers of the
+district, remembered "young Redheugh" well, and spoke of his character,
+Lewis said, as Esther Fleming and Mrs. Catherine had done; but, though
+there was much affectionate respect for his youthful goodness, and much
+pity for his terrible fate, there was no doubt of his guilt among them,
+and they concluded their history of him, with an "Eh, Sirs! but mortal
+flesh is weak when it's left to itsel; to think o' sae mony guid gifts
+coming to sic an end!" Lewis did not know well what to do; he could see
+no hope.
+
+Early in February they returned to Edinburgh from whence came the
+following letter to his anxious sister:
+
+     "My dear Anne,
+
+     "We have at last abandoned the search in despair--there is nothing
+     to be made of it--I thought so before we began. We have awakened
+     the attention of the district, and will, I fear, have to pay the
+     penalty in some newspaper paragraphs resuscitating the whole story,
+     which is disagreeable enough certainly--otherwise we have done
+     nothing.
+
+     "I told you that we had, the other day, called at the cottage of
+     the man, who was the first to discover Mr. Aytoun after the murder.
+     This man was an important witness. He had been employed about
+     Redheugh, and was a spectator of the quarrel between Aytoun and
+     Norman. It had reference to a young lady, between whom and Norman
+     there was a rumored engagement; whether Aytoun knew this, or not, I
+     cannot tell, but he spoke disparagingly of the girl, who was of
+     inferior rank. Norman resented the slighting words with the utmost
+     vehemence and passion; so much so, that the man feared some
+     immediate collision between them. This was prevented, however, by
+     some chance interposition, which he does not very clearly
+     recollect. Norman was called away, and Mr. Aytoun returned home.
+
+     "It was his daily custom to walk in this wood, though one would
+     fancy from the character they give him, that he was by no means of
+     a contemplative kind. He seems rather to have been one of those
+     cool men, who take prudent means to recover themselves from the
+     dissipation of one night, in order that they may be fit for the
+     dissipation of the next. So it was his habit to walk in this wood
+     early in the morning, and Norman knew it. Our informant was
+     something of an artist, Anne. You should have heard his homely
+     description of the stillness and beauty of the wood, as he went
+     through it, returning from his morning's work, to breakfast; 'the
+     sun was shining as clear as if there was naething below that
+     dauredna be seen, or needit to shrink from the sight of man; and
+     the innocent water running blythe beneath the trees, and the sky
+     spreading calm aboon a', as if violence had never been dune in
+     sicht of its blue e'e;' heightening the serenity of his background
+     by all those delicate touches, that the terrible discovery he was
+     about to make might stand out in bolder relief. You will say I
+     treat this with indifference, Anne, but indeed, you are mistaken. I
+     know Norman better, and am more interested in his fate now, (not to
+     speak of my own individual interest in the result) than when I left
+     Merkland.'
+
+     "To resume the story. Our informant going carelessly forward
+     through the wood, came suddenly upon the body of the murdered man,
+     which had fallen, breaking down the low bushes and brushwood upon
+     the waterside. I need not tell you his horror, nor how he describes
+     it. He procured assistance immediately, and conveyed the body home,
+     and afterwards returned to ascertain whether there were any traces
+     visible of the murderer. He says, he never doubted for a
+     moment--the last night's quarrel and estrangement, the cold sneers
+     of Aytoun, and Norman's passionate vehemence, left him, as he
+     thought, no room for doubt. His strong suspicion became absolute
+     certainty, when on returning, he found, lying below some thick
+     underwood, a light fowling-piece, bearing Norman's initials and
+     arms. His story differs in no point from the evidence given by him
+     at the time, and there mingles with it a compassion and regret for
+     Norman, which make its truthfulness still more apparent. When I
+     ventured to suggest, that in spite of all these condemnatory
+     circumstances, the criminal might still be another person, he shook
+     his head. 'I wad gie twa and a plack, Sir, to ony man that could
+     prove that to me; na, bluid winna hide. If ony man living had
+     spilt it, it wad have been brought hame to him before now.' To such
+     a statement one could make no answer. I confess, I left him utterly
+     hopeless; what can we do further?
+
+     "The other man, who met Norman upon that fatal morning, leaving the
+     wood, is dead; but his widow lives, and remembers her husband's
+     story perfectly. Norman, the widow says, was smiling and cheerful,
+     humming a tune, and apparently in high spirits, and stopped on his
+     way to greet her husband kindly, as was his wont; for she, too,
+     testifies to the uniform goodness and gentleness of "young
+     Redheugh." It was a mystery to her husband, she says, to the last
+     day of his life, how a man, newly come from such a deed, with the
+     blood of a fellow creature and a friend warm on his hand, should
+     have smiles on his face, and kindness on his tongue, to an
+     indifferent passer-by.
+
+     "I cannot understand it either, Anne. It is the one thing, above
+     all others, which staggers me. A calculating, cool, reasoning man,
+     who even, at such a time, could think of the chances of a favorable
+     evidence, might have been supposed capable of this--even then, I
+     fancy there is hardly anything of the kind on record. But an
+     impulsive, generous, sensitive man, such as universal testimony
+     concurs in representing Norman--one cannot comprehend it. If the
+     gaiety had been forced, the man must have observed it--it would
+     have been an additional evidence of his guilt--but it was not so.
+     The favorite tune--the elastic, joyous manner--the frank greeting!
+     I cannot reconcile these with the idea of his guilt. If it had not
+     been for this one very indistinct and impalpable piece of evidence,
+     which, like his own letter, may influence the mind, but can have no
+     legal force as proof, I should at once have given up the search,
+     and taken refuge in the certainty of his guilt.
+
+     "All inquiries as to any other suspected party have proved entirely
+     fruitless. Every circumstance had pointed so clearly to Norman,
+     that, as I think, anything inculpating another, must have faded
+     from the memories of the people as quite unimportant.
+
+     "James Aytoun looks very grave: he does not say much, and I cannot
+     guess his opinion. He has been very zealous and active in the
+     search, and has conducted it, as it seems to me, with great
+     prudence and wisdom. I think he is very much disappointed. I even
+     think that he still retains a lingering conviction of Norman's
+     innocence, and is, like myself, bewildered and uncertain what step
+     to take, or what to do.
+
+     "From Mrs. Aytoun I have received just such a reception as you
+     might have expected from the mother of James and Alice. Tremulously
+     kind, almost tender to me for her daughter's sake, yet often lost
+     in long reveries of silent sorrow. No doubt this search, recalling
+     all the circumstances of her widowhood to Mrs. Aytoun's mind, has
+     cost her much pain. I think, however, that, to speak modestly, they
+     don't altogether dislike me. So far as worldly matters go, we, you
+     know, hold our heads higher than they do, and I cannot help hoping
+     that people so sensible and friendly as James Aytoun and his
+     mother, will not, in the spirit of a darker age, allow this old and
+     forgotten crime to hinder the happiness of their gentle Alice. I
+     have improved my time sufficiently, I trust, to ensure that that
+     same happiness is not very safe, if I am denied a share in it. I
+     intend, to-morrow, to have an explanation with them, and ascertain
+     definitely what are our future prospects. I need not say how
+     gentle, and sympathizing, and affectionate--how entirely like
+     herself, in short, our little Alice is.
+
+     "I have not much fear of the _eclaircissement_ to-morrow. They
+     will, very likely, impose some probation upon us. We are both young
+     enough to tolerate that--but that they can steadily refuse their
+     consent to a connection (as I flatter myself) so proper and
+     suitable, an advantageous settlement for Alice, which will secure
+     alike her happiness and her external comfort, I cannot believe. I
+     shall, likely, return some time this week. Let Duncan meet me in
+     Portoran on Friday. If I do not come, it does not matter much--the
+     old man will be the better for the drive.
+
+"LEWIS ROSS."
+
+
+
+Beside the letter of Lewis was another, the handwriting of which Anne
+did not know. She had few correspondents, and opened it wonderingly. It
+was from James Aytoun.
+
+"My dear Miss Ross,
+
+     "Your brother will have informed you of our failure. So far as I
+     can at present see, we have used every possible means, and the only
+     result is, a strengthening of the former evidence, and a more clear
+     establishment of Mr. Rutherford's apparent guilt. For my sister's
+     sake I began this, deeply anxious for a favorable issue. I feel
+     only more anxious now, when I know, and have a personal interest in
+     the nearest relatives of this unhappy young man, whom men call my
+     father's murderer. I cannot comprehend it. In this very clear and
+     satisfactory evidence, I am entirely bewildered and confused.
+     Everything I have gathered in my search has confirmed and
+     strengthened the circumstances against him; and yet, by some
+     strange perversity, everything I have heard has increased my
+     conviction of his innocence.
+
+     "I write thus to you, because I feel that you are even more deeply
+     interested in this than your brother. With my friend Lewis it is a
+     secondary matter, and I am rather pleased that it should be. So
+     that we are sufficiently satisfied not to withhold our consent to
+     his engagement with Alice, he has no very engrossing interest in
+     the matter; but with you--if I am wrong you will pardon me--it
+     seems more deeply momentous and important. I also feel very greatly
+     interested in it. If it were but in a professional point of view,
+     it would claim my utmost attention.
+
+     "The evidence is very clear and full. Were it brought before any
+     jury, there could not be the slightest doubt of the result.--But,
+     with all the tales of generosity and kindness which yet make your
+     brother's memory fragrant in the district, and with his own very
+     moving self-defence still further to counteract it, I have no
+     hesitation in saying to you that this mass of evidence makes no
+     impression upon my mind, but the very uneasy and painful one of
+     doubt and apprehension. There is no certainty in it. All these
+     things might have remained as they are, and yet your brother's
+     innocence be triumphantly vindicated--if, indeed, it had not been
+     for that last fatal step of his flight. Is he now, truly, beyond
+     the reach of either acquittal or condemnation?--does there remain
+     only his _name_ to vindicate?
+
+     "In the meantime there cannot be any nearer connexion between our
+     family and yours. I regret it deeply--but it is impossible to
+     forget that the murdered man is my father, and that while so much
+     as a doubt remains, we must not dishonor the memory of the dead.
+     You will understand and feel for us, I am sure. For my mother,
+     especially, I must beg your sympathy: this matter has most
+     painfully revived the bitterest time of her life; and while, like
+     myself, her feelings--both for Alice's sake, and his own--are all
+     enlisted in favor of your brother, she feels, with me, that until
+     we have some more satisfactory proof, nearer connexion is
+     impossible.
+
+     "You will forgive me, if I speak harshly. I feel that you will
+     understand the necessity more calmly than I should wish Lewis to
+     do; and I am confidant that we can trust in your kind co-operation.
+     In the meantime, I shall keep my eye on the district, and let no
+     opportunity of throwing light upon this dark matter pass me. May I
+     also beg your confidence? If there is any further particular of
+     importance, trust me with it. So far as my ability goes, I shall
+     leave no stone unturned; and will, I assure you, betray no
+     confidence with which you may honor me.
+
+"Believe me, my dear Miss Ross,
+"Very sincerely yours.
+"JAMES AYTOUN."
+
+
+
+Anne was uneasy and perplexed: this sensible, generous, thoughtful James
+Aytoun, suspected her secret, and claimed to be trusted with it. Could
+she withhold it from him? And then, this fallen edifice of hope, with
+all the sickness of its indefinite deferring--what could be done,
+indeed? It seemed foolish--it seemed mere madness, the burning desire
+that rose within her, to hurry to the place herself, and see if the
+eager eyes of anxiety and sisterly yearning could discover nothing.
+Alas! were not James Aytoun's eyes eager also? was not his mind trained
+and practised? It did not matter--Anne felt it impossible to stand
+still--to wait--until she had convinced herself that there was nothing
+more to learn. Esther Fleming's eager repetition: "I lookit to you, Miss
+Anne, I aye lookit to you," came back upon her, like a call from her
+father's very grave. She wrote hastily to Lewis, begging him to return
+immediately; and then sat down to consider her plan.--It might be
+foolish--it might be Quixotic. Possibly she could do no good--but she
+must try.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+
+Upon the Friday Lewis returned home. Anne had walked out upon the
+Portoran road, looking for him, and met him a short distance from the
+gate of Merkland. He looked sulky and out of humor, and leaping from the
+gig, threw the reins to Duncan, and joined his sister.
+
+"Well?" said Anne, when their first greeting was over, and Duncan out of
+hearing.
+
+"Well," said Lewis, "we are just where we were. I expected nothing
+better. We have not advanced a step."
+
+"I understand that," said Anne; "but what of the Aytoun's?--what
+understanding have you come to?--what arrangement about Alice?"
+
+"Nothing--nothing," said Lewis, hastily; "I tell you we are exactly
+where we were. My position is not in the least degree better than it was
+on the first day I knew this history--it is worse indeed, for you buoyed
+me up with hopes then of the great things we should discover--see what
+it has all come to."
+
+"You have surely made some arrangement--come to some understanding?"
+said Anne; "it is a quite useless thing to tantalize me, Lewis. Your
+engagement has not terminated--you have not given up--"
+
+"'Given up!" Lewis turned round indignantly. "I suppose you would like
+nothing better, my mother and you; but you're mistaken, I tell you. All
+the mothers and sisters in the kingdom should not make me give up
+Alice--a pretty thing!"
+
+"You are quite unreasonable, Lewis," said Anne; "I do not want you to
+give up Alice--very far from that--I think you have been fortunate in
+winning so fresh and guileless a youthful spirit; but this impatience
+and petulance makes you unworthy of Alice Aytoun. At your years men
+should regard their own dignity more--you are not a boy now, Lewis."
+
+"I should think not," was the angry response. It made him quiet
+nevertheless; these fits of ill-humor and peevishness were certainly
+neither dignified nor manly.
+
+"What have you done then? how have you arranged?" said Anne.
+
+"Oh, we must wait, they say. If it had been merely a few months, or even
+a year, I should not have thought anything of it: but this indefinite
+delay--to be as patient and dignified as you like, Anne, it is very
+disagreeable and painful."
+
+"I do not doubt it," said Anne.
+
+"And so, till some further evidence of Norman's innocence can be
+procured--further! I should say until they can get _any_ evidence--we
+must wait. James is to keep his eye on the district, he says, and lose
+no opportunity; that looks all very well, but if there _is_ no evidence
+to be got, Alice and I may wait till our lives are spent in vain. It's
+very hard, Anne; I do say so, however boyish you may think it."
+
+"I do not think _that_ boyish, Lewis," said Anne. "We must take measures
+more active than James's mere watching the district. Lewis, it is my
+turn to be called childish now. You must let me try--I must go to this
+place myself."
+
+Lewis opened his eyes in consternation:
+
+"_You_ try! _you_ go yourself! why, what on earth could _you_ do? Anne,
+you are mad!"
+
+"I am not mad, Lewis, in the least degree, and yet I _must_ go to this
+place myself; it is not in self-confidence. I have patience more than
+you, and time less occupied; I never expected that this work could be
+done easily or soon. Lewis, _I_ must go."
+
+They were entering the house as Anne spoke. Lewis did not answer her. He
+only shook his head impatiently. There was something humiliating in the
+very idea that she could accomplish a thing in which he had failed.
+
+He met his mother dutifully and with proper respect and kindness. Mrs.
+Aytoun's natural, unassuming dignity and entire sympathy with her
+children; the frank, affectionate, tender intercourse subsisting between
+them; the seemly regard for her opinion, which was no less apparent in
+her manly son, James, than in her gentle daughter, Alice, had charmed
+Lewis unconsciously. The absolute propriety and fitness of that natural
+honor and reverence made an involuntary impression upon him--an
+impression which now softened his voice and restrained his temper. With
+good training, and these righteous influences round him, Lewis was a
+hopeful subject yet.
+
+"So you have returned as you went away?" said Mrs. Ross, when they had
+been some little time together.
+
+"Yes," said Lewis, "I should say worse, for I had some hope then, and I
+have none now."
+
+"I thought it was all nonsense," said Mrs. Ross. "I knew you could make
+nothing of it."
+
+"You were wrong then, mother," said Lewis, quickly. "We have got no
+evidence--but I believe now, what I did not believe when we left
+Merkland, that Norman is innocent."
+
+Anne looked up joyfully.
+
+"Not that my believing it will do much good," said Lewis, "when such a
+thing as definite proof is not to be had; but that the man, these people
+spoke of as young Redheugh could do a deliberate and cowardly murder is
+nearly impossible."
+
+"I thank you, Lewis," exclaimed Anne. "I thank you for myself and for
+Norman!"
+
+"But what good does it all do?" continued Lewis. "I may believe--but
+unless you can get other people to believe too, what is the use of it?"
+
+"The use of it!" Anne's lightened heart and shining eye bore witness to
+its use. "James Aytoun believes it also," she said.
+
+"Yes, James Aytoun believes it; but neither James nor you, Anne, will be
+satisfied with believing it yourselves. I don't see what we're to do.
+People judge by evidence--all the evidence is against him, and the only
+thing in his favor is an impression--well, I will go further--a kind of
+certainty--one can't give any reason for it, it is the merest
+indefinite, impalpable thing in the world. There's just a conviction
+that he is not guilty--there's nothing to support it."
+
+"Well," said Anne, cheerfully; "but the evidence to support it must be
+got, Lewis. It is foolish to think that a work like this could be done
+in so short a time, and with so small an expenditure of labor and
+patience. Your time is otherwise engaged--so is James Aytoun's--he has
+his business to manage--you, your estate. I have nothing. I am and have
+been all my life, a very useless person; let me have the satisfaction of
+being of some service for once in my life."
+
+"Why, Anne," exclaimed Lewis, "are you in your senses? what in the world
+could you do? Do you think I could ever listen to such a thing?
+Nonsense, nonsense--mind your own affairs like a good girl, and do not
+meddle with what is quite out of your sphere."
+
+Anne smiled, but with some pain--another person might have laughed
+frankly at the condescending superiority of the younger brother. It hurt
+her a little.
+
+"Lewis, I have even more interest in this matter than you--many hopes
+there may be, and are, in your life. I have few. This of Norman's return
+is the greatest of all--and what concerns my brother cannot be out of my
+sphere."
+
+"No--to wish for it--or to dream about it, or even to scheme for it,"
+said Lewis, "That's all very well; but for anything else--why, what
+could you do, Anne--what could any woman do? You know nothing of the
+laws of evidence--you don't know even how to make inquiries. You might
+go and spend money, and get the thing talked about, and written of in
+local newspapers. Content yourself, Anne, and leave it in our hands: you
+could do nothing more."
+
+Alice Aytoun could have done nothing more. Anne Ross felt very certain
+that she had no gift for spending money and getting herself talked
+about--that it might be possible for her to do something more. So she
+said:
+
+"You do not convince me, Lewis. To discover truth, one does not need to
+be familiar with laws of evidence. I am not a lawyer, and could not go
+as a lawyer would; but I am Norman's only sister, Lewis, and, as such,
+might find some fragments of truth favorable to him. I do not ask you to
+decide immediately--think of it, and then give me your sanction to my
+enterprise."
+
+"I am perfectly amazed, Anne--quite astonished," exclaimed Mrs. Ross.
+"What can the girl be dreaming of? _you_ go to collect evidence!--you
+accomplish what Lewis and Mr. Aytoun, and Robert Ferguson--trained
+lawyers have failed to do! I never heard of such self-confidence. I
+cannot comprehend it."
+
+Anne was roused out of her usual patience.
+
+"Mother!" she said, "you have often called me very useless--I grant it,
+if you choose--I have at least not been undutiful. Hitherto, you know, I
+have been almost entirely guided by your pleasure. Here is one thing
+upon which I must exercise my own judgment--_must_, mother--it is no
+question of liking or disliking. I also have some affections, desires,
+wishes of my own. I am not merely an appendage--a piece of
+goods--forgive me if I speak hastily; but supposing that neither
+affection nor wish were in this matter, I have even a prior _duty_ to
+Norman; I have my father's command. Mother, I am no longer a girl--there
+is some other duty for me now, than mere obedience; I have rendered you
+that for three-and-twenty years: do not grudge me some exercise of my
+own faculties now."
+
+Mrs. Ross stared at her in open-eyed astonishment. Lewis had laughed at
+first--now he was graver. Mrs. Ross, with much obstinacy of her own, was
+one of those people who sometimes bluster, but always yield and quail
+before genuine, sober firmness.
+
+"What do you mean? What do you wish to do?" she asked, peevishly.
+"Dutiful, obedient! ah, I have had a good daughter in you, without
+doubt! You are your brother's own sister. By all means, devote yourself
+to Norman. What right have I, who have only been a mother to you all
+your life, in comparison with this brother Norman, whom you never saw?"
+
+Anne was already sorry for her outburst; yet, in spite of herself, felt
+indignant and impatient. This thraldom galled her grievously, yet she
+knew it to be a necessary result of her dependence.
+
+"Stay, mother," said Lewis, "let me be peacemaker, for once. You forget
+how tired I am. Postpone your discussion till after dinner. We have had
+civil war long enough; let us have peace now."
+
+Anne withdrew to her own room. So did Lewis; and the discussion was at
+an end.
+
+What should she do? The few shillings in the end of her purse were all
+inadequate for the journey, and the expense of residing, perhaps for
+some considerable time, among strangers. That difficulty there was but
+one way of overcoming. Anne could not rely upon the generosity of Lewis,
+or his mother. To tell the truth, the finances of Merkland were in a
+state of considerable attenuation. But she could rely, without
+hesitation, upon Mrs. Catherine.
+
+And there were further difficulties: how to go alone, and live alone, in
+the strange, unknown place: how to forsake her ordinary habits, and take
+to cottage visiting as indefatigably as an English Lady Bountiful. The
+first she was rather uneasy about; the second was a trifle. Things which
+were merely disagreeable, did not much distress Anne Ross: she was by no
+means in despair even at those which most people called impossible; but
+shrank with nervous delicacy from any, the very slightest, appearance of
+evil.
+
+After dinner, the conversation was renewed. Lewis had been somewhat
+struck by Anne's assertion of some little claim to her own judgment. He
+certainly did not think her so wise as himself, but he knew her quite
+equal to various of his friends, whose claim to independent will and
+action was quite indisputable. Only, she was a woman: that was all the
+difference. Lewis resolved to be very enlightened and liberal, to let
+his sister express her opinions freely, and himself to give a final and
+impartial deliverance upon them.
+
+"Did I mention, in my last letter, the people who had been so intimate
+with Norman?" he asked, to begin.
+
+"No," said Anne.
+
+"An old woman referred us to them. She said it was a sister of theirs
+who was the occasion of the dispute between Aytoun and Norman; a poor
+girl who went to visit some friends in the west, about the time of the
+murder, and died there of a broken heart. One believes in such things
+when one hears stories like these. They live alone, in a great, gaunt
+old house, a brother and sister."
+
+"And what?" said Anne, eagerly.
+
+"Oh, nothing. I have no story to tell. We could gather nothing from
+them. The sister is a strange, emaciated, worn-out woman. James thought
+she looked agitated; but save a burst of broken praise of 'poor
+Redheugh'--I believe she even called him Norman--we elicited nothing
+more. The brother is an invalid and hypochondriac; we caught a glimpse
+of him, once or twice, wandering on the beach, but never could address
+him. They seemed strange people, but had nothing to tell."
+
+Anne did not speak. Her curiosity and interest were awakened.
+
+"What a strange fellow," exclaimed Lewis, "that Norman must have been!"
+
+"Strange!" said Mrs. Ross, "Yes, indeed, I should think he was. I know
+we had little peace in Merkland, before he came of age."
+
+"How he managed to make the country people all so fond of him,"
+continued Lewis, disregarding his mother's interruption, "one can't
+tell. And falling in love with a girl, of quite different rank.
+Altogether, it's a strange story."
+
+"What was their name?" said Mrs. Ross. "I thought you said they lived in
+an old, great house, Lewis."
+
+"So they do," said Lewis. "It is not their own, though.--They pay some
+nominal rent, and take care of the place. Their name--what is their
+name?--upon my word I don't recollect. I don't know that I ever heard
+the surname. I remember the sister was called Miss Christian: but James
+will know."
+
+"And you are sure they know nothing?" said Anne.
+
+"Yes; at least the sister gave us no information, and the brother, as I
+told you, is a poor ailing creature--half crazy, the people say. He had
+saved an old man from drowning, shortly before we reached the place, and
+was very much elated about it."
+
+"And their sister?" said Anne.
+
+"Their sister was a very gentle, sweet girl--so runs the story--and was
+much attached to Norman. The news of his flight was carried to her
+abruptly by some officious person, and the consequence was, that the
+poor girl broke her heart, and died. It is a very sad story. Alice
+seemed to be able for nothing but crying when I told her."
+
+Anne was ruminating in wonder and doubt--who then was the "Marion?" It
+was impossible that this truthful, upright Norman should have his troth
+plighted to two! Impossible that he could play one false! The doubt made
+her heart sink: the weight of one sin is so much heavier than the
+burden of a hundred misfortunes.
+
+"Now Anne," said Lewis, "what has become of your famous resolution? Has
+your heart failed you already? I am glad of it: better faint before you
+enter the wood, than when you are on the way."
+
+"I have no idea of fainting at all," said Anne, "unless, indeed, when we
+have fairly emerged into the clear air again, with Norman honorably in
+his own house, and Alice at Merkland--I may have leisure for fainting
+then. Now, Lewis--listen to me, I beg, mother--I want you to consent
+that I should go to this place--to Aberford--immediately, or if not
+immediately, at least soon.--Let me have some one with me--May would do,
+or old Esther Fleming. I can take quiet lodgings and live there,
+professedly for the sake of sea air, if, indeed, any pretence is
+necessary. Once there, with no other claim on my time, and patience
+enough to bear any ordinary disagreeables, I may make quiet, noiseless
+unsuspected investigations. Let me try; the matter is of consequence to
+us all, and the expense will not be great. I beg that I may not be
+hindered from making this endeavor; it may produce something--and if it
+does not, there is nothing lost."
+
+"Upon my word you take it very coolly," said Mrs. Ross. "I should like
+to know why my son's means should be wasted in such an absurd
+expedition. You will never make anything of it, it is quite nonsense:
+besides, the idea of a girl going away from home, and living alone,
+engaged in such a search!--perfectly improper! I am amazed at you,
+Anne!"
+
+Anne blushed deeply. It might, indeed, be called improper and
+indecorous, and she was not given to neglect the veriest outer garment
+and vesture of good fame; but for this, a matter so very dear and
+precious, involving so many interests, a mere punctilio might surely be
+disregarded--a ceremonial dispensed with.
+
+"Mother!" she said, "if I were ill, you would not object to this: on the
+mere order of a doctor, you would have thought it perfectly proper to
+suffer me to go to the sea-side: how much more now, when interests so
+great are at stake--Lewis and Norman--your hope and mine! Mother! let me
+have your consent."
+
+Lewis was touched. This Norman, whom she emphatically called her hope,
+did not live at all in Anne's remembrance, except in the merest shadow.
+He began to perceive how void of personal hopes and joys her life was.
+There were some--deeper, graver, more earnest than his--foremost among
+them, the deliverance and return of this exile brother; should he, her
+nearest relative, dim and darken this great hope for her? Lewis forgot
+himself, and his forgetfulness ennobled him.
+
+"Anne," he said, "let us speak of this hereafter--nay, I mean soon; but
+not--" he glanced at his mother, "not to-night."
+
+Anne understood, and was satisfied. Lewis had turned peacemaker. Lewis
+was devising means to turn his mother's ill-humor and undeserved
+reproofs from her. All honor and praise to that kindly household of
+Aytoun; the manly son, the gracious mother, the gentle little girl,
+Alice, who had found out for him, and brought into the pleasant air of
+day, the hidden heart of Lewis Ross.
+
+The next morning, Lewis himself proposed a consultation with Mrs.
+Catherine. Anne consented gladly, and they set out. The Oran was frozen
+hard, and lay, a glittering road of ice, far below the high pathway of
+crisp snow they were walking on, through which the topmost branches of
+the buried hedge peered forth like wayside weeds. The snow lay three or
+four feet deep, and it was intensely cold.
+
+They found Mrs. Catherine in her ruddy inner room, hemming fine cambric
+still. In the one article of linen, Archibald Sutherland was not likely
+to find himself deficient for years. Lewis gave in his report. Mrs.
+Catherine was disappointed.
+
+"But it is no marvel to me, mind, though you yourself, Lewis, are in
+trouble, as I see, that your skill, and wisdom, and great experience,
+have failed in the first trial. Take good heart, boy; when you have come
+to years, you will understand that men are not wont to win the head of
+the contest, in the first trial. Set your breast to it, man; begin
+again."
+
+"Why, we have done everything, Mrs. Catherine," said Lewis.
+
+"Ay! you are a clever chield, Lewis Ross. Is it a month since the two
+gallants went away, Anne? Truly, I had no thought there were two such
+giants under my roof yon bright January day--done everything!--in _four_
+weeks! It is a comfort to folk of an older generation, that have worn
+out lifetimes at one labor, to hear tell of the like of that."
+
+Lewis did not know whether to laugh, or to be angry: acting on his new
+notions of manliness, he chose the former. "Of course, Mrs. Catherine, I
+mean everything we could do."
+
+"Lewis," said Mrs. Catherine, "you are wrong; there is no man in this
+world--at least, I have never heard name nor fame of him--that did
+everything he could do in such a space of time; it is a delusion of
+youth. You have girded yourself for the race, and have run hard for one
+mile; you think ye have done all. Boy! you are neither footsore, nor
+weary, nor sick at heart; what ails you to go on? I have known folk
+struggling hard, that were all the three. Turn back, Lewis Ross, and
+begin again."
+
+"Mrs. Catherine," said Anne, "if Lewis returned, it would excite
+curiosity; their investigations have aroused attention already. I think
+it would not be wise. We came to consult you on a plan of mine. Mrs.
+Catherine, they say, despairing men venture on forlorn hopes often. I am
+not despairing, I am only useless; but I want Lewis to entrust this
+forlorn hope to me."
+
+"And I," said Lewis, "think it is a very foolish idea; but yet have no
+reasonable defence to offer against it."
+
+Mrs. Catherine looked at Anne earnestly.
+
+"Are you able? that you would endeavor this I never doubted--have you
+strength for it?"
+
+"I? I am strong," said Anne, "you know that, Mrs. Catherine. I scarcely
+know what sickness is."
+
+Mrs. Catherine touched, with her fingers, the smooth, clear cheek, which
+testified the firm and elastic health, both physical and mental, of its
+owner, and yet was so far removed from robustness.
+
+"Anne, I believe you are able; you have my full consent, and God-speed.
+Mind you, what I have said to Lewis; it's no one trial, or two, or
+three--time and patience, thought and labor; you must grudge none of
+them all. Tell me your plan."
+
+"Must we submit?" said Lewis. "Anne, is Mrs. Catherine's judgment final?
+is there no appeal?"
+
+"Silence!" said Mrs. Catherine, peremptorily; "who was speaking of
+appeal or judgment? There is a work to do, Lewis Ross; the thing is to
+get the fittest workman, and beware how we hinder him of his labor. We
+have tarried long enough; this is no a time to put further barriers in
+the road. Child, your plan?"
+
+"I propose going to Aberford," said Anne; "taking some trusty person
+with me, Mrs. Catherine. It is common, I hear, for people to go there,
+who seek sea air. I shall attract no attention; it does not matter much
+how long I stay. I can establish myself under the wing of some matron,
+and so escape the charge of impropriety. Then I shall go about the
+district, make acquaintance with every one to whom I can have access,
+and inquire with all zeal and all quietness. While questions from Lewis,
+and a lawyer-like person, like James Aytoun, might confuse the people,
+they will speak frankly to me. I will gossip with them, play with their
+children; get all possible scraps of recollectings and imaginings, and,
+perhaps, when the heap is winnowed, something worth going for."
+
+Mrs. Catherine bent her head gravely, and asked: "When?"
+
+"Immediately," said Anne; "at least, I should desire so. We have lost
+much time already."
+
+Mrs. Catherine rose, and went to the window. The sky was heavy and dark,
+lowering like some great gloomy forehead. It was laden with snow--large,
+dilated flakes, like those of fire upon Dante's burning sand were
+falling one by one, upon the white earth. It was a feeding storm.
+
+"Bonnie weather for the sea-side," said Mrs. Catherine, returning to her
+seat. "You must go with a good excuse, child, not with an apparent
+falsehood on your tongue. 'February fills the dyke, either with black or
+white.' We are getting both of them this month. March is a blustering,
+wintry time, when there is little to be seen or heard tell of about the
+coast but shipwreck and disaster. April is pleasant in a landward place.
+You _may_ go in April; it is too soon, but for the necessity's sake you
+may go then--not a day sooner, at your peril. You are able and well? I
+understand your look, child--hold your peace. I would give a good year
+of my life--and I have few of them to spare, seeing I am trysted to
+abide in my present tabernacle, if the Lord will tell Archie Sutherland
+has won back his land--to see Norman Rutherford a free man on Oranside
+again; but I will not consent to put you in peril, child, for any
+prospective good. I say you shall go in April. I put my interdict upon
+you venturing before. I will give you your freedom in the last blast of
+the borrowing days. Not an hour sooner. Now, will you abide by my
+judgment, or will you not?"
+
+Anne looked out uneasily. The heavy sky slowly beginning to discharge
+its load--the earth everywhere covered with that white, warm mantle--the
+gradually increasing storm. She submitted. Now, at least, it was
+impossible to go.
+
+Shortly afterwards, Mrs. Catherine took her into another room, and
+interrogated her concerning her pecuniary arrangements for the journey.
+Anne evaded the question, laughed at the scanty family of shillings in
+her own purse, and spoke of Lewis.
+
+"Child, you are a gowk after all," said Mrs. Catherine. "The lad needs
+all his siller for himself. If there is anything to spare, let him use
+it on bonnie dies to dress his little bride withal--though the bairn
+Alison has a natural grace, and needs them less than most. But if you
+say a word about siller to Lewis, you shall never enter my door again.
+Mind! It is my wont to keep my word."
+
+Within a week after this conversation, the last half of Mrs. Catherine's
+prodigal outfit was hurriedly sent to Glasgow, where Archibald
+Sutherland had made his first beginning with success and honor. The cold
+lodging, to whose narrow and solitary fireside he returned, night after
+night alone--the fat, Glasgow landlady, whose broad, good-humored face
+began to smile upon him with a familiar kindliness, which the broken
+laird blamed himself for almost shrinking from--the life of strange
+labor--he was getting accustomed to them all.
+
+The house which he had entered was a great one. The senior partner, Mr.
+Sutor, a man of good mercantile descent, and capital business head,
+lived at a considerable distance from Glasgow, in one of those
+magnificent solitudes of hill and water, whither the merchants of St.
+Mungo are wont to carry their genial wealth, and their fine houses. It
+was within convenient distance of the "Saut Water," that irresistible
+temptation and delight of every genuine Glaswegian. Mr. Sutor came up
+frequently to business; he was still the active sagacious head of his
+extensive establishment. The manager, Mr. George Lumsden, was as great a
+man in his way. He lived in the dignified vicinity of Blytheswood
+Square. He had a fine house, a well-dressed pretty wife, and beautiful
+children; gave good dinners; visited baillies and town-councillors, and
+had baillies and town-councillors visiting him, and was certain in a
+very short time, to have his respectable name introduced into the firm.
+He was moreover an active, intelligent man, almost intellectual in spite
+of those absorbing cares of business, and worthy to call the minister of
+Portoran brother. Had Archibald chosen, he might have made a tolerably
+good _entre_ into the society of Glasgow, in the hospitable house of Mr.
+Lumsden; but Archibald did not choose. His former folly, illness, and
+repentance had both sobered and saddened him, and he desired to avoid
+society--a desire which Mr. Lumsden kindly perceived; and after one or
+two unhappy evenings, during which the sensitive young man had endured
+in exquisite pain "the pity of the crowd," and suffered the sympathy of
+indifferent strangers, Mr. Lumsden forbore pressing further invitations
+upon him.
+
+Messrs. Sutor and Sinclair's office was filled with young men--very
+young men, most of them--adventurous scions of commercial Glasgow
+families, foredoomed to push their fortunes, and to push them
+successfully in every quarter of the globe. Youths who made immense
+havoc among "grossets," strawberries, and all other delicacies of the
+luxurious summer-time, sacred to Clydesdale orchards, and radiant with
+the crowning glory of the Saut Water; nor in the gloomier season did
+less execution among edibles and drinkables, by no means so delicate or
+innocent--uproarious, laughter loving, practical-joking youths, among
+whose noisy conclave Archibald Sutherland sat silent, grave, and sad, in
+strange solitude.
+
+Thoroughly respectable they would all be by-and-by, on English 'Change
+and foreign market-place, and home counting-house--men who could lose
+some few thousands without much discomposure, and whose custom was to
+win them in tens and twenties. Yet one could pass so lightly over these
+ruddy faces, to rest upon that pale one among them, with its secret
+history--its grief--its hope--altogether forgetful that this was a hired
+clerk, and that the cubs were young gentlemen, taken in at nominal
+salaries, to learn their craft, and saving Mr. Sutor no inconsiderable
+annual sum in the salaries of other hired clerks, whose services his
+great business must have demanded but for them.
+
+But Archibald discharged his duty well: so well, that Mr. Lumsden
+formally pronounced his satisfaction--shortened his probation--and when
+he had been but a month in the Glasgow counting-house, bade him prepare
+immediately for his voyage. Archibald did so: wrote a long letter, and
+received a short note of leave-taking from his sister Isabel--the
+much-admired and gay Mrs. Duncombe--packed up his great outfit, placed
+in his pocketbook Mrs. Catherine's long letter of pithy counsel and
+tender kindliness; with these few words of grave farewell from Merkland;
+and on a heavy day in February, took his last look of the fair West
+Country, and its beautiful Clyde, and set sail for the New World.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+
+Mr. Lumsden, of Portoran, was seated in his study. The March wind was
+blustering boisterous and rude without, driving its precious dust, so
+valuable, as the proverb says, to farmer and seedsman, upon the window.
+The study of the Portoran Manse was by no means a luxurious place--there
+were no reclining library chairs in it: the formidable volumes that
+clothed its walls were such as no _dilettanti_ student would venture to
+engage withal. Its furniture was of the plainest. One large respectable
+looking glazed bookcase, and a multitude of auxiliary shelves, were
+piled to overflowing with books--books worth one's while to look at,
+though Russian leather and gilding were marvellously scant among them.
+That glorious row of tall vellum-covered folios--Miss Lumsden tells a
+story of them--how they were presented to her studious brother John, the
+day he was licensed, by a wealthy elder (to whom be all honor and laud,
+and many followers;) and how John, in the mightiness of his glee,
+forgetful of the new dignity of his Reverend, fairly danced round the
+ponderous volumes in overbrimming pride and exultation. Miss Lumsden's
+studious brother John, sits listening the while, with his own peculiar
+smile upon his face--a smile which gives to that dark, penetrating,
+intellectual countenance a singular fascination--there is something in
+the simplicity of its glee, which at once suits so well and contrasts so
+strangely with his strong and noble character.
+
+For Mr. Lumsden, of Portoran, was altogether a peculiar man; we are
+sorry that we cannot venture to call him a type of the clergymen of
+Scotland; he was not a type of any body or profession. You will find
+rare individuals of his class here and there, but nowhere many. That
+there were such things as fatigue and weariness, Mr. Lumsden knew--he
+had heard of them, with the hearing of the ear, and believed in their
+existence as on good testimony we believe that there are mountains in
+the moon; but Mr. Lumsden regarded people who complained much of these
+with a smile, half-pitying, half-incredulous, and met the idea of
+himself suffering from them with a no less amused burst of open wonder
+than if it had been suggested to him that he should hold a diet of
+examination, on some chill hillside of the pale planet over us. The
+laborious duties of a brave and faithful minister were very life and
+breath to Mr. Lumsden, of Portoran--obstacles that discouraged every
+other man did only pleasantly excite and stimulate his patient might of
+labor. Weary work, from which all beside him turned disconsolate and
+afraid, Mr. Lumsden swept down upon, his face radiant with all its frank
+simplicity of glee. Nothing daunted the mighty, vigorous, healthful soul
+within him--nothing cast down that great, broad, expansive power of
+Hope, which was with him no fair beguiling fairy, but an athletic
+spirit, greedy of labor as the elfin serving-man of Michael Scot. In
+labors manifold the minister of Portoran spent his manly days; foremost
+in every good work, valiantly at the head of every Christian enterprise,
+and full of that high religious chivalry which dares all things in the
+service of the Church and of the Church's Head.
+
+The widow and the fatherless knew well the firm footstep of their
+faithful friend and comforter; the poor of his parish claimed his kindly
+service as a public property; no man seeking counsel or help, comfort or
+assistance, went doubtingly to the Manse of Portoran. The minister--his
+wisdom, his influence, his genial large heart, belonged to the people;
+he was the first person sought in misfortune, the first to whom sorrow
+was unfolded. In a great joy the people of Portoran might forget
+him--they never forgot to warn him of the coming of grief.
+
+Mr. Lumsden was seated in his study--a great quarto of ponderous Latin
+divinity, the produce of that busy time after the Reformation, when
+divines _did_ write in quarto and folio volumes, terrible to look upon
+in these degenerate days, lay on the table before him. He was not
+reading it, however; he was pulling on his boot, and looking at an open
+note which lay upon the book.
+
+One boot was already on--he was tugging at the other indignantly. Mr.
+Lumsden was particularly extravagant in that article of boots--so much
+so, as entirely to shock his prudent sister Martha. This one, which
+would not be drawn on, had been out during the night, upon its master's
+foot, trudging through all manner of wet by-ways to a sick-bed--it had
+not yet recovered the drenching. So Mr. Lumsden pulled, and between the
+pulls looked at the note, and muttered to himself words which his
+correspondent would not have cared to hear.
+
+Miss Lumsden entered the study. Miss Lumsden had seen out her fortieth
+winter; for the last ten of these, she had worn one constant dress of
+black silk, and pronounced herself an old woman; and as it was very much
+for the benefit of her married sisters and unmarried brothers that she
+should think so, no one contradicted her. It happened at this time, to
+be John's turn to have the noted housekeeper of the Lumsden family
+resident with him. The Manse of Gowdenleas in the rich plains of Mid
+Lothian, and the Manse of Kilfleurs in the West Highlands, the
+respective residences of her brothers, Robert and Andrew, were under an
+interregnum. Mrs. Edie nee Lumsden, in her Fife Manse, had no
+expectation of a new baby; Mrs. Gilmour the Edinburgh physician's wife,
+had no sickness among her seven children; Mrs. Morton, the great
+invalid, whose husband held an office in the Register House was much
+better than could be expected; so the universally useful sister Martha
+had time to bestow her care and attention upon the domestic comfort of
+her brother John.
+
+The boot suddenly relaxed as Miss Lumsden entered, and the shock brought
+out her brother's muttering in a louder tone than he intended: "A pretty
+fellow!"
+
+"Who is that?" asked his sister.
+
+Mr. Lumsden looked up, flushed with exertion. "This lord at Strathoran.
+Take his note--a seemly thing indeed to write so to me; Marjory Falconer
+is right after all--the man thinks himself a Highland chieftain."
+
+Miss Lumsden read the note, wonderingly.
+
+"Sir.
+
+     "My people inform me that you are in the habit of visiting my
+     tenants at Oranmore, and inciting them to a course of action quite
+     subversive of my plans. I am informed that the glen is in the
+     parish of Strathoran, and consequently under the charge of another
+     clergyman--the Rev. Mr. Bairnsfather--whose own good sense and
+     proper feeling have withheld him from any interference between
+     myself and my dependants. I am not inclined to submit to any
+     clerical meddling, and therefore beg to remind you, that as
+     Oranmore is not under your charge, any interference on your part is
+     perfectly uncalled for and officious. I do not choose to have any
+     conventicles in the glen, and trust that you will at once refrain
+     from visits, which may injure the people but can do them no good.
+
+"I am, &c.
+"GILLRAVIDGE."
+
+
+
+"Did ever any mortal hear such impertinence?" exclaimed the amazed Miss
+Lumsden.
+
+"_His_ people!" said the minister: "they have been his a long time to be
+so summarily dealt with as goods and chattels. The man must have got his
+ideas of Scotland from 'Waverley,' and thinks he is a Glennaquoich and
+at the head of a clan--what absurd folly it is!"
+
+"And just, 'Sir!'" said Miss Lumsden, indignantly; "he might have had
+the good breeding to call you 'Reverend' at least."
+
+Mr. Lumsden laughed. He rose and changed the long black garment, once a
+great-coat, now his study-coat and morning-undress, for habiliments
+better suiting the long ride he was about to commence, twisted his plaid
+round his neck, and shut his quarto.
+
+"What do you intend to do, John?" asked Miss Lumsden. "Are you going
+out?"
+
+"I intend to do just what I should have done, had I not received this
+polite note," said Mr. Lumsden. "I am going to Oranmore, Martha. This
+lordling threatens to eject these hapless Macalpines, and poor Kenneth,
+the widow's son, is on the very verge of the grave. I must see him
+to-day. If they attempt to remove him, it will kill the lad."
+
+"Remove them, John? what are you thinking of?" said Miss Lumsden: "it is
+nearly three months yet to the term."
+
+The minister shook his head.
+
+"They were warned to quit at Martinmas, Martha. This man, Lord
+Gillravidge, has his eyes open to his own advantage. He has been
+advised, I hear, to make one great sheep-farm of these exposed
+hill-lands. The poor little clachan of Oranmore could not believe that
+those fearful notices were anything but threats to secure the payment of
+their rent; but now they promise to turn very sad earnest. I do not know
+what to do."
+
+"Eject them?" said Miss Lumsden, "bring one of those terrible Irish
+scenes to our very door--in our peaceable country? John, it's not
+possible!"
+
+Mr. Lumsden looked still more serious.
+
+"I fear it is nearly certain, Martha. I met Big Duncan Macalpine on the
+road last night. He says Lord Gillravidge's agent and that fellow with
+the moustache, have been in the glen several times of late; and the
+ejectment must be accomplished before their seed is sown. At least if
+they are permitted to remain till after seed-time, the man will not
+surely have the heart to remove them then. I do not know--it is a very
+sad business altogether; but we must try to do something better for them
+than sending them, friendless and penniless, to Canada. We get a trial
+of all businesses, we ministers, Martha--this is a new piece of work for
+me."
+
+The minister's man stood at the door, holding the minister's stout,
+gray pony. Mr. Lumsden left the room. "And a great comfort it is, John
+my man," soliloquized his sister, "that your Master has made you able
+for them all."
+
+Oranmore was not in Mr. Lumsden's parish. Mr. Lumsden was, what in those
+days was called a "Highflyer," that is, a purely and earnestly
+evangelical minister--a man who dedicated his whole energies, not to any
+abstraction of merely beautiful morality--not to amiable respectability,
+nor temporal beneficence; but in the fullest sense of these solemn
+words, to the cause and service of Christ. In consequence, Mr. Lumsden
+was assailed with all the names peculiarly assigned to his class by
+common consent of the world: sour Presbyterian, gloomy Calvinist,
+narrow-minded bigot, illiberal Pharisee. The minister of Portoran, like
+his brethren in all ages, escaped thus the woe denounced by his Master
+against those of whom all men speak well.
+
+He was a thorough Presbyterian, a sound Calvinist. Men who know, and may
+rationally judge of these two stately systems of discipline and
+doctrine, can decide best whether the frank and open pleasantness of Mr.
+Lumsden's face belied his faith or no. He was a man of one idea--we
+confess to that; but the mightiness that filled his mind was great
+enough to overbrim a universe. It was the Gospel--the Gospel in its
+infinite breadth of lovingness--the Gospel no less in its restrictions
+and penalties. His hand did not willingly extend itself in fellowship to
+any man who dishonored the name of his Divine leader and King. His soul
+was not sufficiently indifferent to prophesy final blessedness to those
+who contemned and set at nought the everlasting love of God--so far he
+was narrow-minded and illiberal, a bigot and a Pharisee.
+
+But it happened that Mr. Lumsden's co-presbyters on every side were men
+called, in the emphatic ecclesiastical phraseology of Scotland,
+"Moderates;" men who wrote sermons and preached them because it was a
+necessity of their office, not because they had a definite message to
+deliver from a Lord and Master known and beloved; men who tolerated
+profanity, and hushed uncomfortable fears, and were themselves so very
+moderately religious, as to give no manner of offence to that most
+narrow-minded and illiberal of all bigots, the irreligious world. We
+mention this, in explanation of a foible of Mr. Lumsden's, particularly
+alluded to in the letter of Lord Gillravidge, and the cause of much
+skirmishing in the Presbytery of Strathoran. Mr. Lumsden had an especial
+knack of preaching in other people's parishes.
+
+Not to the neglect of his own--of all kinds of dishonor or ill-fame, Mr.
+Lumsden held none so grievous as the neglecting or slight performance of
+any part of that honorable and lofty work of his. Dearly as he loved
+extraneous labor, the minutest of his own especial parochial duties were
+looked to first. But all his round of toil gone through; his sermons
+prepared; his examinations held; himself, heart and mind, at the
+constant service of his people, Mr. Lumsden thought it no longer
+necessary to confine his marvellous appetite for work within the limits
+of Portoran.--There was a heathenish village yonder, growing up in all
+the rude brutality of rural vice, untaught and uncared for. What matter
+that the privilege of instructing it belonged to the Reverend Michael
+Drowsihed? The Reverend Michael awoke out of his afternoon sleep one day
+in wrath and consternation. Mr. Lumsden, of Portoran, had established a
+fortnightly sermon, and threatened to set down a daily school, in his
+own neglected village. What matter, that the half-Gaelic colony of
+Oranmore, belonged of right to Mr. Bairnsfather? The warm heart of the
+Minister of Portoran was laboring in the cause of the Macalpines, while
+Mr. Bairnsfather was "sheughing kail and laying leeks," in his own Manse
+garden.
+
+In consequence of which propensity, Mr. Lumsden made a mighty commotion
+in that ecclesiastical district. Gratefully to his ears, as he wended
+homeward, came the voice of psalms from peasant-households, whom his
+faithful service had brought back to the devout and godly habits of
+their forefathers. Pleasantly before him stood, in rustic bashfulness,
+the ruddy village children, for whom his care and labors had procured an
+education of comparative purity; but by no means either grateful or
+pleasant were those endless battles convulsing his presbytery, shaking
+study chairs in drowsy Manses, and sweeping in a perfect whirlwind of
+complaint and reprimand through the Presbytery House of Portoran.
+
+Mr. Lumsden had his failings--we do not deny it. He had no especial
+shrinking from a skirmish in the Presbytery. He walked to the bar of
+that reverend court with so very little awe, that the Moderator was
+well-nigh shocked out of his propriety. He had even been heard
+irreverently to suggest to the newly-placed Minister of Middlebury, a
+young brother, who seemed rather inclined to abet him in his rebelion,
+that it would be better for him to take his place permanently at the
+bar, than to be called to it at every meeting. He had been reprimanded
+by the Presbytery, till the Presbytery were tired of reprimanding. Mr.
+Bairnsfather had carried the case to the Synod, by appeal. The Synod had
+denounced his irregularities in its voice of thunder. Mr. Lumsden only
+smiled his peculiar smile of gleeful simplicity, and went on with his
+labor.
+
+He was going now to Oranmore. The glen of Oranmore lay among the lower
+heights of the Grampians, a solitary, secluded valley. A small colony of
+Highlanders, attached to the Strathoran branch of the house of
+Sutherland, in feudal times, and bearing the ancient name of Macalpine,
+had settled there, nearly a century before. The patriarchs of the little
+community still spoke their original Gaelic; but the younger
+generations, parents and children, approached much more closely to their
+Lowland neighbors, whose idiom they had adopted. The glen was entirely
+in their hands, and its fields, reclaimed by their pains-taking
+husbandry, produced their entire subsistence. Some flocks of sheep
+grazed on the hillside. There was good pasture land for their cattle,
+and the various patches of oats and barley, turnips and potatoes, were
+enough to keep these sturdy cottar families in independent poverty.
+Whether in other circumstances they might have displayed the inherent
+indolence which belongs, as men say, to that much belied Celtic race, we
+cannot tell. But having only ordinary obstacles to strive against--an
+indulgent landlord, and a kindly factor--the Macalpines had maintained
+themselves as sturdily as any Saxon tribe of their numbers could
+possibly have done; and had, what Saxon hamlets in the richer South are
+not wont to have, a couple of lads from their little clachan at
+college--one preparing himself for the work of the ministry, and another
+aspiring to the dignity of an M. D.
+
+In summer time, these peaceful cot-houses, lying on either side of the
+infant Oran, within the shadow of the hills, with the fair low country
+visible from the end of the glen, and the stern Grampians rising to the
+sky above, were very fair to look upon; and the miniature clan at its
+husbandry, working in humble brotherhood--the link of kindred that
+joined its dozen families, all inheriting one name and one blood--the
+purer atmosphere of morality and faith among them--made the small
+commonwealth of Oranmore a pleasant thing for the mind to rest upon, no
+less than for the eye.
+
+Mr. Ferguson had never dealt hardly with these honest Macalpines, in
+regard to the rent of their small holdings. He knew they would pay it
+when they could, and, in just confidence, he gave them latitude.
+Unhappily for the Macalpines, one whole half-year's rent remained
+unpaid, when the new landlord took the management out of Mr. Ferguson's
+kindly hands. The year was a backward year: their crops had been
+indifferent, and the Macalpines were not ready with their rent at
+Martinmas.
+
+The consequence was, that these fearful notices to quit were served upon
+them. Big Duncan Macalpine, a man of very decided character and deep
+piety--one of that class, who, further north, are called "the
+men,"--perceived the alien Laird's intention of removing them at once.
+The remainder of the humble people, looked upon the notices only as
+threats, and set to with all industry to make up the rents, and prevent
+the dread alternative of leaving their homes. They had come there in the
+time of Laird Fergus, the great-grandfather of Archibald Sutherland.
+Their ninety-nine year's lease had expired in the previous year, and had
+not (for it was Archibald's dark hour) been renewed, so that now they
+were the merest tenants at will. Mr. Foreman warned Big Duncan that they
+might be ejected at any time.
+
+The small community became alarmed. The big wheel was busy in every
+cottage. Sheep and poultry were being sold; every family was ready to
+make sacrifices for the one great object of keeping their lands and
+homes. The sharp, keen, unscrupulous writer whom Lord Gillravidge had
+employed in Edinburgh, where his over-acuteness had lost him caste and
+character, had been seen in the glen for three successive days. The
+Macalpines were smitten with dread. Rumors floated up into their hilly
+solitude of a great sheep-farmer from the south, who was in treaty for
+these hill-lands of Strathoran. A shadow fell upon the humble
+households. The calamity that approached began to shape itself before
+them. To leave their homes--the glen to which they clung with all the
+characteristic tenacity of their race--the country for which the
+imaginative Celtic spirit burned with deep and patriotic love--the
+national faith, still dearer, and more precious--for a cold, unknown,
+and strange land, far from their northern birth-place, and their
+preached Gospel!
+
+Mr. Lumsden's strong, gray pony was used to all manner of rough roads,
+and so could climb along the craggy way that led to Oranmore. The
+minister rode briskly into the glen. His keen and anxious look became
+suddenly changed as he entered it into one of grief and indignation. He
+quickened his pace, leaped from the saddle, fastened his pony to a
+withered thorn, and hastened forward.
+
+The crisis had come. Mr. Whittret the lawyer, and Mr. Fitzherbert, stood
+in the middle of a knot of Macalpines; a party of sheriff's-officers
+hung in the rear, and the youthful Giles Sympelton stood apart, looking
+on. The high head of Duncan Macalpine towered over the rest. In his
+moral chieftainship he was the spokesman of his neighbors. He was
+speaking when Mr. Lumsden approached.
+
+"Your rent is ready, Sir--the maist of us are ready with your rent; but
+oh! if there is a heart of flesh within ye, spare us our hames!
+Gentlemen, we have a' been born here. Yon auld man," and Duncan pointed
+to the venerable white head of a trembling old man, wrapped in a plaid,
+who leaned against the lintel of the nearest cottage--"and he's past a
+century--is the only ane amang us that was a living soul at the
+flitting. For pity's sake, Sir, think o't! Gie us time to make up the
+siller. We'll pay the next half-year in advance, if better mayna be; but
+do not bid us leave the glen."
+
+"That's all very well," said Fitzherbert, "very pretty. A set of Scotch
+cheats, who only want to deceive Lord Gillravidge."
+
+"I want to deceive no man," said the humble chief of Oranmore,
+indignantly. "I wouldna set my face to a lee for a' his revenues. I am a
+head of a family, and a decent man, in God's providence, Sir; and I gie
+ye my word, that if ye'll just give us time, we'll make up the next
+half-year's rent in advance. His Lordship is a stranger, and maybe,
+doesna ken whether he can trust us or no. Mr. Ferguson will bear us
+witness, Sir--the Laird himsel will bear us witness. Mr. Lumsden--Guid
+be thankit he is here himsel!--the minister will bear us witness!"
+
+Mr. Lumsden entered the circle, hailed by various salutations.
+"Blessings on him! He never fails when he's needed." "He'll bear witness
+to us that we're honest folk." And one indignant outcry from Duncan's
+sister: "Ye'll believe the minister!"
+
+"What is the matter, Duncan?" said Mr. Lumsden.
+
+"The gentlemen have come for our rent, Sir; we're ahin' hand. I make nae
+wonder that folk new to the countryside mayna trust us; but oh! if they
+would but pit us on trial. I promise, in the name of all in the
+glen--ye're a' hearing me?--that, though it should take our haill
+substance, we'll pay the siller just and faithfully, as we have aye
+dune, if we only can bide upon our ain land."
+
+"You own land!" echoed Fitzherbert. "Fellow! the land is Lord
+Gillravidge's."
+
+Big Duncan Macalpine's honest face flushed deeply.
+
+"I am nae fellow, Sir; and the land belangs to us by an aulder tenure
+than can give it to ony foreign lord. We are clansmen of the Laird's.
+Langsyne our chief sold our land further north--instead of it we got
+this glen. I say, Sir, that the land is ours.--We were born and bred in
+it; our fathers fought for it langsyne. We hold it on an auld
+tenure--aulder than ony lordship in thae pairts. Our forebears were
+content to follow their chief when he threw his ain hills into the hands
+of strangers. We got this instead of our auld inheritance. I say, Sir,
+that the land is ours--that no man has a right to take it from us. Mr.
+Whittret, ye're a lawyer--am I no speaking true?"
+
+"Bah! You're a cheat!" exclaimed Fitzherbert.
+
+Big Duncan's muscular arm shook nervously. He restrained himself with an
+effort. Not so his vehement sister Jean.
+
+"Wha daurs say sic a name to Duncan Macalpine? Wha daurs disbelieve his
+word, standing in Oranmore? A feckless, ill-favored fuil, wi' as muckle
+hair about the filthy face o' him as wad hang him up in a tree, as the
+prodigal Absalom hung langsyne.--A cheat! If Big Duncan Macalpine wasna
+caring mair for his folk and name than for himsel, ye wad hae been
+spinning through the air afore now, in your road to the low country, ye
+ill-tongued loon!"
+
+"Whisht, Jean!--whisht!" said her brother. "What needs we heed ill word?
+We're langer kent it in Oranside than the gentleman."
+
+Duncan drew himself up in proud dignity. The puny "gentleman"--a thing
+of yesterday--was insignificant in the presence of the cottar of
+Oranmore--a true heritor of the soil.
+
+"You do not mean, gentleman," said Mr. Lumsden,--"I trust you do not
+mean to take any extreme proceedings. I rejoice to be able to give my
+testimony to the sterling honor and integrity of Duncan Macalpine and
+his kinsmen of Oranmore. Lord Gillravidge cannot have better, or more
+honorable tenants. I entreat--I beg that time may be given them to make
+a representation of their case to his Lordship. He is new to the
+country, and may not know that these men are not ordinary tenants--that
+they have, as they truly say, a right to the soil. Mr. Whittret, you
+cannot refuse them your influence with Lord Gillravidge--you know their
+peculiar claim?"
+
+"They might have a claim upon Mr. Sutherland," said the agent, gloomily.
+"They can have none upon Lord Gillravidge."
+
+"Lord Gillravidge is bound to preserve ancient rights," exclaimed Mr.
+Lumsden. "It is not possible he can know the circumstances. These men
+are not ordinary cottars, Mr. Whittret--you understand their position.
+For pity's sake do not drive them to extremity!"
+
+"It cannot be helped," said Mr. Whittret, bending his dark brows, and
+shunning the clear eye of the minister: "I must adhere to my
+instructions, Sir. These hill-lands are already let to a stock-farmer. I
+must proceed."
+
+"There can be no need for haste, at least," said Mr. Lumsden. "The new
+tenant cannot enter till Whit-Sunday. Let the Macalpines stay--let them
+remain until the term."
+
+Mr. Whittret lifted his eyes in furtive malice, with a glance of that
+suspicious cunning which perpetually fancies it is finding others out.
+
+"And have Lord Gillravidge called a tyrant and oppressor for removing
+the people after their seed is sown? You are very good, Mr. Lumsden--we
+know how clerical gentlemen can speak. We shall take our own plan.
+Simpson, begin your work."
+
+A detached cottage, the furthest out of the group, stood close upon the
+Oran--the narrow streamlet, a mere mountain burn so near its source, was
+spanned there by white stepping-stones. A woman in a widow's cap stood
+at the cottage-door, looking out with a silent want of wonder, which
+told plainly enough that some mightier interest prevented her from
+sharing in the excitement of her neighbors. The men approached the
+house, and after summoning her to leave it instantly, a summons which
+the poor woman heard in vacant astonishment, immediately prepared to
+unroof her humble habitation. The crowd of Macalpines had been looking
+on in breathless silence. Now there was a wild shriek of excitement and
+fury--men and women precipitated themselves at once upon the minions of
+that ruthless law which was not justice.--The ladder was thrown down;
+the hapless officer who had been the first to mount it, struggled in the
+hands of two strong young men; and Jean Macalpine, a tall athletic
+woman, stood before the terrified widow in the doorway, another officer
+prostrate at her feet. Mr. Fitzherbert and Whittret rushed
+forward--their satellites formed themselves together for resistance--the
+Macalpines furiously surrounded the cottage--there promised to be a
+general melee. But loud above the noise and tumult sounded the united
+voices of Big Duncan, and his minister.
+
+"Jean Macalpine," shouted the chief of Oranmore, "come out from among
+this senseless fray. Dugald Macalpine, quit the man: why will ye pollute
+your hands striving with him? Donald Roy, let go your hold. Gentlemen,
+gentlemen, haud your hands, and hear me."
+
+There was a momentary truce.
+
+"Beware!" said Mr. Lumsden. "Within that house lies an invalid--if you
+expose that sinking lad, you will have a death to answer for. I tell
+you, beware!"
+
+"Gentlemen," said Big Duncan Macalpine, "yon house is mine. I protest,
+in the name of my people, that ye are doing an unrighteous and unlawful
+thing. I beg ye, as ye are Christian men, that ken what hames are, to
+let us bide in our ain glen and country.--In honor, and honesty, and
+leal service we will pay ye for your mercy; but if ye are determined to
+carry on this work, unrighteous as it is in the sight of God and man,
+begin yonder--take my house. I was born in it--I thocht to die in
+it--begin with my house; but if ye would escape a curse and desolation,
+leave the hame of the widow."
+
+There was a pause--the invading party were in a dilemma.--The very
+officials were moved by the manly disinterestedness of Big Duncan
+Macalpine. He himself strode to the side of the lads who had pulled the
+man from the ladder, and freed him from their grasp: then he gathered
+the Macalpines together, spoke a word of comfort to the widow, and
+placing himself by the door of her cottage, looked calmly towards his
+own house and waited.
+
+Mr. Whittret stood undecided. Fitzherbert was furious. He had already
+issued his orders to the men to proceed, when his arm was grasped from
+behind. He turned round--the Honorable Giles Sympelton was at his elbow,
+his simple youthful face quivering with emotion.
+
+"Fitz, Fitz," cried the lad, "stop this--I cannot bear it. I wll' not
+see it; if you destroy that noble fellow's house I will never enter
+Gillravidge's again. Take care what you do--they are better men than
+we."
+
+Mr. Whittret looked up. Mr. Lumsden had his note-book in his hand, and
+was writing. The mean soul of the agent writhed within him. That Mr.
+Lumsden was writing an exposure of his conduct he never doubted; he
+would be covered with infamy and shame; at least it should not be
+without cause. "Simpson," he cried, "take the fellow at his
+word--proceed with your work."
+
+Vain evil-thinking of the evil-doer! Mr. Lumsden, in fear of the
+compulsory removal of the invalid, was writing to his sister to send up
+a chase immediately from Portoran, and in a moment after, had despatched
+the most ungovernable of the lads to carry his note to the Manse.
+
+Duncan Macalpine stood looking calmly at his cottage. His sister Jean,
+following his heroic example, had hurried into it, and now returned,
+leading a feeble woman of seventy--their mother. Duncan's wife stood
+beside her husband; two of his little boys lingered in childish wonder
+by the cottage door. The men began their odious work--the straw bands
+were cut, the heather thatch thrown in pieces on the ground. The
+children looked on at first in half-amused astonishment. They saw their
+home laid open to the sky with all its homely accommodations--their own
+little bed, their grandmother's chair by the fire, the basket of
+oatcakes on the table from which their "eleven-hours piece" had been
+supplied. The eldest of them suddenly rushed forward in childish rage
+and vehemence, and springing upon the ladder, dealt a fruitless blow at
+one of the devastators. He was thrown off--a piece of the thatch struck
+upon his head--the child uttered a sharp cry and fell. His mother flew
+out from among the crowd. The Macalpines were shaken as with a wind, and
+with various cries of rage and grief were pressing forward again. Again
+Big Duncan stayed them. "Fuils that ye are, would ye lose your guid fame
+with your hames? would ye throw everything away? Be still I tell you.
+Can I no guard my ain bairn mysel?"
+
+The wave fell back: muttering in painful anger, the Macalpines obeyed
+the king-man among them, and restrained themselves. Big Duncan in his
+stern patience went forward. Before him, however, was a slight boyish
+figure, with uncovered head and long fair hair--the child was lifted in
+the youth's arms, "I will carry him--good woman, come with me--come away
+from this place. It is not right you should see it--come away."
+
+"I thank ye, young gentleman," said Big Duncan: "it becomes a young
+heart to shrink from the like of this, but we maun stay. Neither my wife
+nor me can leave the glen till we leave it with our haill people."
+
+Giles Sympelton hurried on to the widow's cottage with the boy. The
+child was not much hurt--he was only stunned; and attended by his mother
+and aunt, he was taken into the house. Sympelton placed himself in front
+of the Macalpines by Mr. Lumsden's side.
+
+The destruction went on--you could trace its progress by the agonized
+looks of these watching people. Now a sharp, sudden cry from some
+distressed mother, that bore witness the destroyers were throwing down
+the roof under which her little ones had been born. Now a long, low
+groan told the father's agony. The young men were shutting out the sight
+with their hands--they could not school themselves to patience; the
+little children, clinging about their feet, kept up a plaintive cry of
+shrill dismay and wonder, the chorus of that heart-breaking scene. House
+after house, un-windowed, roofless, and doorless, stood in mute
+desolation behind the hirelings of the unjust law, as their work went
+on. At last it was completed, and they approached the widow's cottage
+again. There was an instant forgetfulness of individual suffering.
+Closely, side by side, the Macalpines surrounded the house of the widow.
+These strong men were dangerous opponents--even these excited women
+might be formidable to meet at such a time. The officers held back.
+
+"I implore--I beseech!" cried Mr. Lumsden, "spare this house! Leave the
+sick youth within to die in peace. Leave us this one asylum for the aged
+and the feeble. If ye are men, spare the widow--spare the boy!"
+
+"Fitz!" cried Giles Sympelton, in a tone of indignant appeal.
+
+Mr. Whittret was enraged and furious.
+
+"Lose no time, Simpson!" he cried. "It is three o'clock already. Make
+haste and finish!"
+
+Big Duncan Macalpine stood undecided.
+
+"It's a life!" he muttered. "It's lawful to defend a life, at any risk
+or hazard! Sir--Mr. Lumsden--what will we do?"
+
+Mr. Lumsden made another appeal. It was useless. More peremptorily still
+the agent ordered the men to proceed.
+
+"Duncan," said Mr. Lumsden, "for the sake of the Gospel you profess, and
+for your own sake, let there be no resistance! Lift the boy out--protect
+him as you best can; we must leave the issue in God's hands. Brethren,
+give way to the officers. You can only bring further evil on yourselves.
+You cannot deliver the widow. Sirs, stand back till we are ready--we
+will give you space for your work then. The consequences be upon your
+own heads!"
+
+The minister entered the cottage, and passed through among the
+patriarchs of the sorrowful community, who were sheltering from the
+chill March wind, under the only remaining roof in the glen. In a moment
+after he reappeared, bearing the sick lad, a helpless burden, in his
+strong arms. A cry rose from the women--the men clenched their fingers,
+and gnashed their teeth. The sharp, pale face raised itself above Mr.
+Lumsden's arm--the feeble invalid was strong with excitement.
+
+"Be quiet, oh! be quiet--dinna do ill for my sake!"
+
+"And now," cried Big Duncan, "I bid ye to my house--all of ye that are
+Macalpines. Leave the birds of prey to their work--come with me!"
+
+The people obeyed. They formed themselves into a solemn procession: the
+tremulous old man, whose years outnumbered a century, leaning upon two
+stalwart grandsons; the aged woman, Duncan Macalpine's mother, supported
+on her son's arm; strong men restraining by force which shook their
+vigorous frames the natural impulse to resistance; mothers, with
+compressed lips, shutting in the agony of their hearts--the train of
+weeping, bewildered children! The March wind swept keen and biting over
+them as they passed by their own desolate houses in stern silence, and
+assembled again, further up the glen. The work was accomplished. The
+last cottage in Oranmore was dismantled and roofless. The Macalpines
+were without a home!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+
+Giles Sympelton ran from the glen. The lad was light of foot, and
+inspired with a worthy errand. Headlong, over burn, and ditch, and
+hedgerow he plunged on--past the long woods of Strathoran--past the gate
+where stood some of Lord Gillravidge's household, sheer on to the Tower.
+The door was open--he darted in--rushed up stairs--and in headlong haste
+plunged into Mrs. Catherine's inner drawing-room. Mrs. Catherine herself
+was seated there alone. She looked up in wonder, as, with flushed face
+and disordered hair, and breathless from his precipitate speed, the lad
+suddenly presented himself before her.
+
+"I want your carriage--I want you to send your carriage with me--for a
+dying lad--a sick boy who has no shelter. Give me your carriage!"
+
+"Young man," said Mrs. Catherine, "what do you mean?" She rose and
+approached him. "You are the lad that was in temptation at Strathoran.
+Have you seen the evil of your ways?"
+
+"Your carriage--I want your carriage!" gasped poor Giles Sympelton.
+"Order it first, and I will tell you afterwards."
+
+Mrs. Catherine did not hesitate. She rang the bell, and ordered the
+carriage immediately.
+
+"Immediately--immediately!" cried the lad. "The cold may kill him."
+
+"Sit down," said Mrs. Catherine, "till it is ready; and tell me what has
+moved you so greatly."
+
+The youth wiped his hot forehead, and recovered his breath.
+
+"The cottagers up the glen--their name is Macalpine--Lord Gillravidge
+has evicted them. There is not a house standing--they are all unroofed.
+The people have no shelter. And the lad--the dying lad?"
+
+Mrs. Catherine rose. Amazement, grief, and burning anger contended in
+her face.
+
+"What say you? The alien has dared to cast out the Macalpines of
+Oranmore from their own land! I cannot believe it--it is not possible!"
+
+"The lad is dying!" cried young Sympelton, too much absorbed with what
+he had seen to heed Mrs. Catherine's exclamation. "They are covering him
+with cloaks and plaids--they say the cold will kill him. It is a
+terrible sight!--old men, and women, and little children, and the dying
+lad! Not a roof in the whole glen to shelter them!"
+
+Mrs. Catherine left the room, and went down stairs. An energetic word
+sent double speed into Andrew's movements as he prepared the carriage.
+Mrs. Euphan Morison was ordered to put wine into it; blankets and cloaks
+were added, and Mrs. Catherine, with her own hands, thrust Giles into
+the carriage.
+
+"Bring the lad here, to the Tower: come back to me yourself. Bring the
+aged and feeble with you, as many as can come. Mind that you return to
+me your own self. And now, sir, away!"
+
+The carriage dashed out of the court, and at a pace to which Mrs.
+Catherine's horses were not accustomed, took the way to Oranmore.
+
+Fitzherbert and Whittret had left the glen, with their band of
+attendants. The Macalpines were alone; the shadows of the March evening
+began to gather darkly upon the hills. In Big Duncan's roofless cottage,
+on a bed, hastily constructed before the fire, and shielded with a rude
+canopy of plaids, lay the sick lad, shivering and moaning, as the gust
+of wind which swept through the vacant window-frame, and burst in wild
+freedom overhead, shook the frail shelter over him, and tossed the
+coverings off his emaciated limbs. Mr. Lumsden stood beside him. In the
+first shock of that great misfortune, the minister endeavored to speak
+hopeful, cheering words--of earthly comfort yet to come--of heavenly
+strength and consolation, which no oppressing hand could bereave them
+of.--Homeless and destitute, in the stern silence of their restrained
+emotions, the Macalpines heard him; some vainly, the burning sense of
+personal wrong momentarily eclipsing even their religion; some with a
+noble patience which, had they been Romans of an older day, would have
+gained them the applauses of a world. These brief and lofty words of his
+were concluded with a prayer. The March evening was darkening, the wind
+sweeping chill and fierce above them. The tremulous old man leaned on
+the sick lad's bed; the grandmother crouched by the fire upon her
+grandchild's stool. Big Duncan Macalpine stood on his own threshold;
+without, close to the vacant window, stood the neighbors who could not
+find admission into the interior, and from the midst of them the voice
+of supplication ascended up to heaven, "For strength, for patience, for
+forgiveness to their enemy."
+
+A consultation followed. Mr. Lumsden was looking out eagerly for the
+chaise from Portoran. It could not arrive in less than an hour, Big
+Duncan said; and the minister with his own hands, endeavored to fix up
+more securely a shelter for the suffering lad.
+
+"What are we to do?" exclaimed one of the Macalpines.--"Neighbors, what
+is to become of us?--where are we to gang?"
+
+A loud scream from a young mother interrupted him; her infant was seized
+with the fearful cough and convulsive strugglings of croup. The poor
+young woman pressed it to her breast, and rushed to her own desolate
+cottage. Alas! what shelter was there? The roof lay in broken pieces on
+the ground; window and door were carried away; the fire had sunk into
+embers. She threw herself down before it, and tried to chafe the little
+limbs into warmth. Other mothers followed her. All the means known to
+their experience were adopted in vain. The terrible hoarse cough
+continued--the infant's face was already black.
+
+"What are we to do?" exclaimed the same voice again. "Are we to see our
+bairns die before our eyes? Duncan, we let them destroy our houses at
+your word! What are we to do?"
+
+"If ye had dune onything else," said Big Duncan Macalpine, "we would
+have had the roof of a jail ower our heads before this time--and it's my
+hope there is nae faint heart among us, that would have left the wives
+and the bairns to fend for themsels.--Neighbors, I know not what to do;
+if we could but get ower this night, some better hope might turn up for
+us."
+
+His sister brushed past them as he spoke, carrying hot water to bathe
+the suffering infant--not hot enough, alas! to do it any good. The other
+women were heaping peats upon a fire, to make ready more; the old people
+within Duncan's house crouched and shivered by the narrow hearth; the
+little children clinging to the skirts of their parents, were sobbing
+with the cold.
+
+"Get ower the night?" said Roderick Macalpine, "we might get along
+oursels on the hillside; but what's to come of them?" and he waved his
+hand towards the helpless circle by the fire--the aged, the dying, the
+children.
+
+"Sirs," said the old man coming forward, fancying as it seemed that they
+appealed to him, "let us go to the kirkyard. You can pit up shelters
+there--no man can cast ye out of the place where your forebears are
+sleeping. If they take all the land beside, ye have yet a right to
+that."
+
+The listeners shrank and trembled--the old man with his palsied head,
+and withered face, and wandering light blue eyes, proposing to them so
+ghastly a refuge. The Macalpines were not driven so utterly to
+extremity. It remained for these more enlightened days to send Highland
+cottars, in dire need, to seek a miserable shelter above the dust of
+their fathers.
+
+The consultation was stayed--no one dared answer the old man--when
+suddenly Giles Sympelton was seen running in haste up the glen. He had
+brought the carriage as high as it could come, and now flew forward
+himself to get the invalid transferred to it. Big Duncan lifted the sick
+lad in his arms, and carried him away, while Giles lingered to deliver
+Mrs. Catherine's orders.
+
+"Let me take the old people with me," he said, eagerly, to Mr. Lumsden.
+"The carriage is large--the old lady said I was to bring as many as
+could come. It is Mrs. Catherine Douglas, of the Tower--do not let us
+lose time, Sir: get the oldest people down to the carriage."
+
+The Macalpines did not cheer--they were too grave for that; but the
+lad's hand was grasped in various honest rough ones, and "blessings on
+him!" were murmured from many tongues. Three of the most feeble could be
+accommodated in the carriage--at least, could be crowded beneath its
+roof, while the sick youth was placed on the cushions, and his mother
+sat at his feet.
+
+"Is there anything more I can do?" said Giles, looking in grief and pity
+upon the agonized face of the young mother, sitting within the
+dismantled cottage waiting while her neighbors prepared another hot-bath
+for her child.
+
+"Nothing," said Mr. Lumsden. "I thank you heartily, young gentleman, for
+what you have already done. You may have saved that poor lad's life by
+your promptitude. Tell Mrs. Catherine that every arrangement that can
+possibly be made for the comfort of the Macalpines, I will attend to.
+Good night--I thank you most sincerely. You will never repent this day's
+work, I am sure."
+
+Giles lingered still.
+
+"How is the child? will it die?" he asked anxiously of one of the women.
+
+"Bless the innocent, the water's hot this time," was the answer; "it's
+no moaning sae muckle. Eh, the Lord forbid it should die!"
+
+Giles turned and ran down the glen, saw his charge safely deposited in
+the carriage, and, mounting beside the coachman, drove more leisurely to
+the Tower.
+
+Before they had been very long away, the chaise arrived from Portoran.
+The infant's sufferings were abated; it had sunk into a troubled,
+exhausted sleep. Mr. Lumsden filled the chaise immediately with the
+feebler members of the houseless community. It was arranged that the
+rest should walk to Portoran--it was twelve miles--a weary length of
+way, where the minister pledged himself they should find accommodations.
+Big Duncan and Roderick Macalpine voluntarily remained in the glen, to
+protect the household goods of their banished people.
+
+The chaise had driven off--the pedestrians were already on the high
+road. Duncan and Roderick, wrapped in their plaids, had seated
+themselves by the peat-fire in Duncan's roofless dwelling.--The stern
+composure upon the faces of these two men, lighted by the red glow of
+the fire, as they sat there in the rapidly darkening twilight, told a
+tale of the intense excitement of that day, and now of the knawing
+sorrow, the weight of anxiety that possessed them. Mr. Lumsden stood at
+the door, his pony's bridle in his hand.
+
+"Mind what I have said," he cried, as he left them. "Keep up your hearts
+and do not despair. You will not need to leave the country--you will
+find friends--only keep up your hearts and be strong. God will not
+forsake you."
+
+They returned his good-night with deep emotion. This peaceful glen, that
+yesternight had slept beneath the moonbeams in the placid sleep of
+righteous and honorable labor--strange policy that could prefer some
+paltry gain to the continuance of the healthful homejoy of these true
+children, and heirs of the soil!
+
+The two Macalpines sat together in silence, their eyes fixed on the red
+glow of the fire before them. By-and-by Roderick's gaze wandered--first
+to the numberless little domestic tokens round, which spoke so pitiful a
+language--the basket of cakes was still on the table, the "big wheel" at
+which Jean Macalpine had been spinning so busily on the previous night,
+stood thrust aside in the corner. His eyes stray further--through the
+vacant window-frame he saw, upon the other side of the Oran, his own
+roofless house; he saw the cradle from which his child had been
+hurriedly snatched, lying broken within; he saw the household seat in
+which, only some five winters since, he had placed bonnie Jeanie
+Macalpine, a bride then, the mother of three children now. His hearth
+was black--his house desolate--Jeanie and her heart failed him: "Oh,
+man! Duncan!" exclaimed poor Roderick, as he hid his face in his hands
+in an agony of grief.
+
+Big Duncan Macalpine's dark eyes were dilated with the stern and
+passionate force of his strong resolution; his clear, brave, honest face
+was turned steadfastly towards the fire.
+
+"Roderick," he said, emphatically, "I daurna trust mysel to look about
+me. Keep your eyes away from the ruined houses--look forward, man. Have
+I no my ain share? is my house less desolate than yours?"
+
+In the meantime, Giles Sympelton had arrived with his charge at the
+Tower; and having seen the sick youth placed in a warm room, with kindly
+hands about him, and the old people settled comfortably by the great
+kitchen fire, was finally solacing himself after the labors of this
+strangely exciting day, at Mrs. Catherine's well-appointed dinner-table,
+with Mrs. Catherine herself opposite him. She was singularly kind. In
+spite of much temptation, and many bad associates, Giles Sympelton had
+remained unsophisticated and simple. The fear of ridicule, which might
+in other circumstances have induced him to resist the attractions of
+this stately old lady, with whom he had been brought so strangely in
+contact, was removed from the lad now--he gave way to the fascination.
+With natural _naivete_ and simplicity, he told her his whole brief
+history; how of late he had written very seldom to his father; how he
+had become disgusted with Fitzherbert, and disliked Gillravidge, and was
+so very sorry for "poor Sutherland;" how he vowed never to enter Lord
+Gillravidge's house again, if "that noble fellow, Macalpine," were
+turned out of his; and, finally, how determined was he to keep his
+vow--to send for his servant, and his possessions, and to go into
+Portoran that very night: he was resolved not to spend another night in
+Strathoran.
+
+"I have houseroom for you," said Mrs. Catherine. "Let your servant bring
+your apparel here--I am not straitened for chambers. You have done good
+service to the Macalpines, as becomes a young heart. I rejoice to have
+you in my house. You should send for your man without delay."
+
+The youth hesitated--met Mrs. Catherine's eye--blushed--looked down, and
+muttered something about troubling her.
+
+"You will be no trouble to me--I have told you that. What is your name?"
+
+Sympelton looked up surprised and bashful.
+
+"Giles Sympelton," he said.
+
+"Sympelton?" said Mrs. Catherine. "Was the bairn that died in Madeira
+thirty years ago, a friend to you?"
+
+"My father had a sister," said young Sympelton; "he was very fond of
+her--who died very long ago, years before I was born."
+
+Mrs. Catherine was silent, and seemed much moved.
+
+"Friend!" she said, "I had one brother who was the very light of my
+eyes, and there was a gentle blue-eyed bairn, in yon far away island,
+who went down with him to the grave. The name of her was Helen. He died
+in the morning, and she died at night, and on the same day her brother
+and I buried our dead. If you are of her blood, you are doubly welcome!"
+
+"My aunt's name was Helen," said Giles, "and she was only fifteen when
+she died. I have heard my father speak of her often."
+
+Mrs. Catherine was so long silent after that, that the young man began
+to feel constrained and uneasy, and to think that, after all, he had
+better try the accommodation of the "Sutherland Arm's" in Portoran. All
+the circumstances of Mrs. Catherine's great grief were brought vividly
+before her by his name. Helen Sympelton!--how well she remembered the
+attenuated child-woman, maturing brilliantly under the deadly heat of
+that consumptive hectic, who had accompanied Sholto to the grave.
+
+She spoke at last with an effort:
+
+"I have some country neighbors coming to me this night. You may not be
+caring for meeting them: therefore do not come up the stair, unless you
+like. Andrew will let you see your room, and you will find sundry
+pleasant books in my library; and, till your man comes, Andrew will wait
+your orders."
+
+Giles intimated his perfect satisfaction in the prospect of meeting Mrs.
+Catherine's country neighbors; and after some further kindly words, and
+a beaming sunshiny smile, the old lady left the room.
+
+Mr. Lumsden also had by this time received, and provided accommodation
+for, his share of the ejected Macalpines. The families of Roderick and
+Duncan were in his own hospitable Manse. Some of the others had been
+received, in their way down, into the farm-house of Whiteford. Duncan
+Roy had stopped to pour his story, in indignant Celtic vehemence, into
+the ears of Mr. Ferguson, and, with his pretty sister, Flora, had been
+taken into Woodsmuir. The others were provided for in various houses in
+Portoran--the most of them in genuine neighborly sympathy and
+compassion, and some for the hire which Mr. Lumsden offered, when other
+motives were wanting. They were all settled, in comparative comfort at
+last; all but those two stern watching men, who sat through the gloom of
+the wild March night, within the roofless walls of Big Duncan's house,
+watching the humble possessions of the Macalpines of Oranmore.
+
+His manifold labors over, Mr. Lumsden took a hurried dinner, and
+proceeded to dress. He had been invited to the Tower, to Mrs.
+Catherine's quiet evening gathering of country neighbors. His sister
+endeavored to dissuade him, on the ground of his fatigue. Mr. Lumsden
+laughed--he always did laugh when fatigue was mentioned. Then it was
+absolutely necessary that he should see how poor Kenneth Macalpine had
+borne his removal: and then--probably Mr. Lumsden had some additional
+inducement, private to himself, which we cannot exactly condescend upon.
+
+Miss Lumsden excused herself from accompanying him. Her brother had
+done his part for the poor Macalpines--it was her turn now. The gray
+pony too was not quite so invulnerable as its master. It owned to the
+fatigue of the day, in a very decided disinclination to leave its
+comfortable stable, so Mr. Lumsden took his seat beside Walter Foreman
+in the gig, and proceeded to the Tower.
+
+It was not unusual for Mrs. Catherine to have these gatherings. They
+were very simple affairs. She liked to bring the young people together;
+she liked herself, now and then, to have a pleasant domestic chat with
+the elders. Everybody liked those quiet and easy parties, to which the
+guests came in their ordinary dress, and enjoyed themselves after their
+own fashion, without restraint or ceremony; and everybody, who had the
+good fortune to be on Mrs. Catherine's list of favorites, had most
+pleasant recollections of the ruddy inner drawing-room, at these
+especial times.
+
+Giles Sympelton paid another visit to poor Kenneth Macalpine after
+dinner. He found him sleeping pleasantly in the warm, cheerful, light
+apartment, his mother watching with tearful joy by his bedside, and Mrs.
+Euphan Morison sitting in portly state by the fire. Widow Macalpine
+whispered thanks and blessings, and added, that, "he hadna sleeped sae
+quiet, since ever they were warned out o' the glen." Giles withdrew with
+very pleasant feelings, and walking up to the room prepared for him,
+where his servant already waited, proceeded to dress.
+
+This important operation was performed very carefully, some dreamy idea
+of "astonishing the natives" floating through his boyish brain the
+while. Giles, simple lad as he was, was yet a gentleman--he had no
+flashy finery about him--his dress was perfectly plain and simple. He
+was satisfied, however, and felt he would make an impression.
+
+Ada Mina Coulter's pretty, girlish face was the first he noticed on
+entering the room. He did make an impression. Ada knew very pleasantly,
+as she drooped her brown curls before the glance of the stranger, that
+the blue eyes from whence that glance came, belonged to a lord's son--an
+Honorable Giles.
+
+Mrs. Catherine introduced him, with kindly mention of his day's labor,
+to her elder friends--to Lewis Ross and Anne--and then committing him to
+their charge, returned to her conversation with the fathers and mothers.
+Giles by no means made the impression he expected on that party--he had
+a feeling of old friendship for Anne--a slight idea of rivalry in
+respect to Lewis--but consoled himself pleasantly half an hour after, by
+Ada Coulter's side, putting her into a very agreeable state of flutter
+and tremulousness. Ada was younger than Alice Aytoun--was but a little
+way past her sixteenth birth-day indeed, and was not yet accustomed to
+the homage of young gentlemen--and an Honorable Giles!
+
+There was great indignation concerning the ejection of the Macalpines,
+and as soon as it was known that Giles had been present, a little crowd
+gathered round him. He told the story with great feeling; described Big
+Duncan Macalpine's conduct with enthusiasm; touched slightly on his own
+fears for poor Kenneth; and laughed when he told them of his race. Mrs.
+Catherine drew near at that point of the story, and extending her hand
+over Ada's curles, patted him kindly on the head. The Honorable Giles
+felt rather indignant--it was making a child of him. No matter--Ada
+Coulter thought him a hero.
+
+A graver group were discussing the subject at the other end of the room.
+Mr. Lumsden told the story there. Mr. Coulter and Mr. Ferguson were
+bending forward to him with anxious faces.--The ladies were no less
+interested. Anne Ross leant on the sofa at Mrs. Coulter's elbow. Marjory
+Falconer stood apart, with her hand upon the back of a chair, and her
+strong and expressive face swept by whirlwinds--indignation, grief,
+sympathy--all mellowed, however, by a singular shade of something that
+looked very like proud and affectionate admiration--of whom was Marjory
+Falconer proud?
+
+"Now, gentlemen," said Mr. Lumsden, "you must assist me.--I have set my
+heart upon it, Mr. Coulter, that these families shall not be sent
+penniless to Canada. I don't like emigration at all, but in this case it
+would be nothing less than banishment--what can we do for them?"
+
+Mr. Coulter took a pinch of snuff.
+
+"It is not a bad thing emigration, Mr. Lumsden; if there was no
+emigration, what would become of these vast waste lands? I suppose we
+might pour our whole population into the backwoods, and there would
+still be unreclaimed districts. Depend upon it, Sir, it comes very near
+a sin to let land, that should be bringing forth seed and bread, lie
+waste and desolate, when there are men to work it."
+
+"Well," said Mr. Lumsden, "we won't argue about that. It may be right
+enough--I only say I don't like emigration; and we have abundance of
+waste lands at home, Mr. Coulter; but in the case of the Macalpines, it
+could bear no aspect but banishment.--I believe they would almost starve
+first. What can we do for them?"
+
+There was a pause of consideration.
+
+"Robert," said Mrs. Ferguson.
+
+Her husband looked round.
+
+"When you commence your improvements, you will require many
+laborers--would not the Macalpines do? We were thinking of taking Flora
+to be one of our maids at Woodsmuir, you know--other people, no doubt,
+would do the same. What do you think?"
+
+Mr. Ferguson spent a moment in deliberation; then he looked up to Mr.
+Coulter inquiringly.
+
+"Not a bad idea," said the agriculturist.
+
+"I was thinking of that myself," said Mr. Ferguson. "There is not a very
+great number of them: we shall surely be able to keep them in the
+district; and there is always the hope," the good factor endeavored to
+look very sanguine and cheerful--"there is always the hope of Mr.
+Archibald's return."
+
+No one made any response; saving himself and Mrs. Catherine, no one was
+sanguine on that subject: they were very glad to join in good wishes for
+the broken laird; but saw all the improbabilities in a stronger light
+than his more solicitous friends could do.
+
+"If he does," said Mr. Lumsden, "if he ever can redeem the estate again,
+I suppose the Macalpines are safe."
+
+Mr. Ferguson looked with gratitude at the minister. It was pleasant to
+have his hope homologated even so slightly. "Safe? ay, without doubt or
+fear! there is not a kinder heart in all Scotland. How many men will
+there be, Mr. Lumsden? how many able men?"
+
+Mr. Lumsden entered into a calculation. We need not follow him through
+the list of Duncans, and Donalds, and Rodericks; there were eleven
+fathers of families. Duncan Roy and his sister Flora were orphans;
+besides, there were six or seven young men, and a plentiful undergrowth
+of boys of all ages and sizes.
+
+"Say sixteen men," said Mr. Ferguson, "the rest could be herds,
+or--there is always work for these halflin lads. What do you say, Mr.
+Coulter?"
+
+Mr. Coulter's deliverance was favorable. Mrs. Catherine had urgent need
+of a plough-man, she suddenly discovered. Mrs. Coulter thought she
+"could do with" another maid. The Macalpines were in a fair way of being
+settled.
+
+"Mind what I say," said Mrs. Catherine, "its only for a time. They shall
+recover their ancient holdings, every inch of them; their right to the
+land is as good as Archie's; the clansman holds it on as clear a title
+as the chief. Mind, I put this in the bargain; that whenever the estate
+returns to its rightful owner, the Macalpines return to Oranmore."
+
+Mr. Ferguson's eyes glistened. He seemed to be looking forward to some
+apocryphal future gladness, which he dared hardly venture to believe in,
+yet to which his heart could not choose but cling. God speed the
+adventurer in the new world!
+
+Mr. Lumsden proceeded down stairs immediately, to visit the aged and
+sick who had been brought to the Tower: in a short time he returned. The
+guests young and old were more amalgamated than before; they were
+sitting in a wide circle round Mrs. Catherine's chair. They did not
+perceive the minister's entrance: for some reason known to himself he
+stepped behind the window-curtain. He was looking out upon the clear,
+cold, starry night.
+
+"Bless me," said Mrs. Bairnsfather, "Mr. Lumsden is in high favor with
+us all. It's a wonder a fine young man like him has not got a wife yet."
+
+Marjory Falconer looked thundery; she had been aware of a private
+telegraphic sign made by the hand of a certain tall dark figure, which
+was looking out upon the night.
+
+"All in good time," said Mrs. Coulter, "he is but a young man yet."
+
+"How old would you say?" inquired Mrs. Bairnsfather.
+
+"Oh! one or two and thirty perhaps--not more."
+
+"Not more!" Mrs. Bairnsfather had a vindictive recollection of sundry
+invasions of her husband's parish. "I'll warrant him a good five years
+older than that."
+
+"Well, well," said the good-humored agriculturist. "He is not too old to
+be married yet, that is a consolation."
+
+"What would you say to Miss Ada Mina!" continued Mrs. Bairnsfather.
+"Miss Jeanie, I suppose, I must not speak of now."
+
+Ada Coulter shook her curls indignantly. She, full sixteen, and
+receiving the homage of an Honorable Giles, to be "scorned" with a
+minister of five and thirty!
+
+"Or Miss Ross?" said the mischief-making Mrs. Bairnsfather.--"They would
+make an excellent couple, I am sure."
+
+"I won't have that," said Lewis. "I have engaged Anne, Mrs.
+Bairnsfather; if she does not take my man, I'll disown her."
+
+"Anne, I want you," said Marjory Falconer: "come here."
+
+"Or Miss Falconer herself?" said the indefatigable Mrs. Bairnsfather
+turning sharp round, and directing the attention of all and sundry to
+Marjory's face, perfectly scorching as it was, with one of her
+overwhelming, passionate blushes, "and that would secure the contrast
+which people say is best for peace and happiness."
+
+Miss Falconer tried to laugh--the emphasis on the word _peace_ had not
+escaped her; she slid her arm through Anne's and left the room. The dark
+figure behind the curtain, followed her with his eye; laughed within
+himself a mighty secret laugh, and came out of his concealment, to the
+immense discomfiture of Mrs. Bairnsfather, and the great mirth of Giles
+and Ada.
+
+"That abominable woman!" exclaimed Marjory, as they went down stairs.
+
+"Hush," said Anne, "she is the minister's wife."
+
+"The minister's wife! there is never any peace where _she_ is.--She is a
+pretty person to think she can understand--"
+
+"Who, Marjory?"
+
+"Oh," said Marjory, with a less vehement blush, "it's because John
+Lumsden is so popular in Strathoran--you know that.--Come, let us go and
+see Kenneth Macalpine."
+
+They did go; poor Kenneth was feverish and unable for any further
+excitement, so they spoke a few kindly encouraging words to his mother,
+and left the room. Mrs. Euphan Morison had retreated to her own
+apartment, and sat there by the fire sulky and dignified--the doctor had
+absolutely forbidden her administering to the invalid a favorite
+preparation of her own which she was sure would cure him.
+
+Marjory and Anne turned to the great, warm, shining kitchen. The
+patriarch of Oranmore was dozing in a chair by the fire--the old man's
+mind was unsettled; he had returned to his native Gaelic, and had been
+speaking in wandering and incoherent sentences of the church-yard, and
+the right they had to the graves of their fathers. An aged woman, the
+grand-aunt of Duncan Roy and Flora, who had brought up the orphans, sat
+opposite to him, muttering and wringing her withered hands in pain. She
+had been long afflicted with rheumatism, and the exposure made her aged
+limbs entirely useless. She had to be lifted into her chair--and
+aggravating her bodily pain was the anguish of her mind: "The
+bairns--the bairns! what will become of the bairns?"
+
+The other Macalpine was a feeble woman, widowed and childless, to whom
+her honorable and kindly kindred had made up, so far as temporal matters
+went, the loss of husband and of children. She was rocking herself to
+and fro, and uttering now and then a low unconscious cry, as she brooded
+over the ruin of her friends, and her own helpless beggary. The
+firmament was utterly black, for her--she had no strength, no hope.
+
+Marjory and Anne lingered for some time, endeavoring to cheer and
+comfort these two helpless women. Mrs. Catherine's maids, carefully
+superintended by Jacky, had done everything they could to make them
+comfortable; and before the young ladies left the kitchen, Flora
+Macalpine had entered, and was at her aunt's side, telling of the
+reception Duncan and herself had met with at Woodsmuir, and how Mrs.
+Ferguson had half promised to take her into the nursery to be
+"bairn's-maid" to the little Fergusons. The old woman was a little
+comforted--very little; for if Flora was away in service, who could take
+care of her painful, declining years?
+
+Jacky followed Anne and Marjory out of the kitchen. They were absorbed
+with this matter of the ejectment, and so did not observe her. Marjory
+drew her companion to the library.
+
+"Do come in here, Anne. I don't want to go up stairs yet."
+
+They went in, Jacky following--she seemed determined not to lose the
+opportunity.
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne--"
+
+"Well, Jacky?"
+
+Jacky hesitated--she did not know how to go on, so she repeated: "If ye
+please, Miss Anne--" and stopped again.
+
+"What is it, Jacky?" said Anne, "tell me."
+
+"If ye please, will ye let me go with ye, Miss Anne?" said Jacky, in a
+burst. "I ken how to--to behave mysel, and to attend to a lady, and I'll
+never give ye ony trouble, and I'll do whatever I'm bidden. Oh, Miss
+Anne, will ye let me go?"
+
+"What has put that into your head, Jacky?" exclaimed Anne.
+
+Jacky could not tell what had put it into her head, inasmuch as any
+explanation might have shown Anne that the singular elf before her had,
+by some intuition peculiar to herself, made very tolerable progress in
+the study of those important matters which of late had occupied so much
+of their thoughts, and hopes, and consultations in Merkland and the
+Tower: so she merely repeated:
+
+"Oh, if ye please, Miss Anne, will ye let me go?"
+
+Anne was somewhat puzzled.
+
+"You are too young to be my maid, Jacky," she said.
+
+"Oh, if ye please, Miss Anne, I ken how to do--and I'm no idle when
+there's ony purpose for't--and I aye do what I'm bidden, except--" Jacky
+hung her head, "except whiles."
+
+"But Anne wants a great big woman, like me, Jacky," said Marjory
+Falconer, laughing, "an old woman perhaps."
+
+"But if ye please, Miss Falconer," said Jacky, seriously, "an old woman
+wouldna do--an old woman wouldna be so faithful and--and--" Jacky
+paused, her conscience smiting her: was not the Squire of the
+redoubtable Britomart an old woman? Whereupon there ensued in Jacky's
+mind a metaphysical discussion as to whether Glauce or Mrs. Elspat
+Henderson was the best type of the class of ancient serving-women--remaining
+undecided upon which point, she had nothing for it but to repeat the
+prayer of her petition: "Oh, Miss Anne, will you let me go?"
+
+"Do you intend to take a maid with you, Anne?" asked Marjory.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then you should take Jacky by all means."
+
+Anne hesitated.
+
+"You forget, Jacky, that it is not I, but Mrs. Catherine, who must
+decide this."
+
+"Oh, if ye please, Mrs. Catherine will let me go, Miss Anne, if you're
+wanting me."
+
+"And your mother, Jacky?"
+
+"My mother's no needing me, Miss Anne."
+
+"Well, we will see about it," said Anne, smiling; "as you seem to have
+quite made up your mind, and decided on the matter. I will speak to Mrs.
+Catherine, Jacky. We shall see."
+
+Jacky made an uncouth courtesy and vanished.
+
+"Is it Edinburgh you are going to, Anne?" said Marjory, shooting a keen
+glance upon her friend's face.
+
+"I shall be in Edinburgh," said Anne, evasively.
+
+"Why, Anne!" exclaimed Marjory, "must one not even know where you are
+going? What is this secret journey of yours?"
+
+"It is no secret journey, Marjory. I am going farther east than
+Edinburgh--to the sea-side."
+
+"To the sea-side!" Marjory looked amazed. "You are not delicate, Anne
+Ross. What are you going to do at the sea-side?"
+
+"Nothing," said Anne.
+
+"Nothing! You have not any friends there--you are going away quite by
+yourself! Is anything the matter, Anne? Tell me what you are going to
+do."
+
+"I would tell you very gladly, Marjory, if I could. My errand is quite a
+private one: when it is accomplished, you shall hear it all."
+
+The blood rushed in torrents to Marjory Falconer's face.
+
+"You cannot trust me!" she exclaimed. "Anne, I do not care for Mrs.
+Bairnsfather's petty insults. I have been too careless of forms,
+perhaps--perhaps I have made people think me rude and wild, when I was
+only striving to reach a better atmosphere than they had placed me
+in--but you, Anne Ross--you to think me unworthy of confidence!"
+
+"Hush--hush, Marjory," said Anne. "Pray do not begin to be
+suspicious--it does not become you at all. I had a brother once,
+Marjory--as people say, a most generous, kind, good brother--whose name
+lies under the blot of a great crime. He was innocent--but the world
+believed him guilty. I am going to try--by what quiet and humble means
+are in my power--to remove this undeserved stain. If I succeed, I shall
+have a very moving story to tell you: if I do not succeed, let us never
+speak of it again. In any case, I know you will keep my secret."
+
+Marjory pressed her friend's hand, and did not speak. She remembered
+dimly having heard of some great sorrow connected with Mr. Ross's (of
+Merkland) death, and was ashamed and grieved now, that she had pressed
+her inquiries so far. Marjory Falconer, like Lewis Ross, was learning
+lessons: the rapidly developing womanhood, which sent those vehement
+flushes to her cheek, and overpowered her sometimes with agonies of
+shame, was day by day asserting itself more completely. A few more
+paroxysms, and it would have gained the victory.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+
+By the beginning of April, the Macalpines were finally settled; the
+majority of them being employed as laborers on Mr. Ferguson's farms of
+Loelyin and Lochend. Roderick and his family occupied a cottage in the
+vicinity of the Tower. He was engaged as ploughman by Mrs. Catherine
+Douglas. Big Duncan remained with his people--their houses were now far
+apart--they were restless and ill at ease, feeling their dispersion as
+the Jews of old felt their captivity. These clinging local attachments
+are comparatively little known to people confined within the limits of
+cities, and living in the hired houses, which any caprice or revolution
+of fortune may make them change. It is not so with the "dwellers of the
+hills," the whole circuit of whose simple lives for generations have
+passed under one roof; to whom the sun has risen and set behind the same
+majestic hills in daily glory, and whose native streamlet has a
+house-hold tongue, as familiar as the more articulate one of nearest
+kindred. A hope had sprung up in the breast of the Macalpines--a hope to
+which their yearning home-love gave vivid strength and power. Their
+chief would return: he would come back in renewed wealth and prosperity:
+he would lead them back to their own homes in triumph. This anticipation
+enlivened the sad pilgrimages, which the banished hillfolk made on those
+dewy spring evenings to their beloved glen. It needed some such hope to
+stifle the indignant grief and anger, which might have else blazed up in
+illegal vehemence, when the ejected Macalpines, in little parties of two
+and three, returned to Oranmore, to look upon their former homes, now
+desolate and blackened, with grass springing up on each household floor,
+and waving already from the broken walls--but they looked away, where,
+far over the wide-spreading low-country, there shone in the distance,
+the glimmer of the great sea; and prayed, in the fervor of their hope
+and yearning, for the home-coming of their chief. God speed the
+adventurer, landing even now on the sunny shores of the new world! How
+many hearts beat high with prayers and hopes for his return!
+
+The sick lad, Kenneth, did not die: he lived to hold the name of the
+youthful Giles Sympelton in dearest honor and reverence, and to do him
+leal service in an after-time. Giles, with some reluctance, left the
+Tower, after a week's residence there, to join his father--leaving Ada
+Coulter with the first sadness upon her, which she had experienced since
+her happy release from school.
+
+In the middle of April, Anne set out upon her journey. With Mrs.
+Catherine's full consent, Jacky was to accompany her. Anne's departure
+excited some attention. There seemed to be a vague conception among the
+neighbors, that something of moment was concealed under this quiet visit
+to the south, of the very quiet Miss Ross, of Merkland. Jeanie Coulter
+wondered if she was going to be married. Mrs. Coulter endeavored to
+recollect if she had ever heard of the Rosses having relations in that
+quarter. Mr. Foreman said nothing, but, with that keen lawyer eye of
+his, darted into the secret errand at once, and already sympathized with
+the failure and disappointment, which he felt sure would follow.
+
+Anne's farewells were over--all but one--the day before leaving
+Merkland, she went up to the mill to say good-by to little Lilie. She
+found Mrs. Melder in ecstasies of wonder and admiration, holding up her
+hands, and crying, "Bless me!" as she unfolded one by one the contents
+of a box which stood upon the table. They consisted of little garments
+beautifully made--a profusion of them. Lilie herself was luxuriating
+over a splendid picture-book, after viewing with a burst of childish
+delight the pretty little silk frock which Mrs. Melder, in the pride of
+her heart, was already thinking would make so great a sensation when it
+appeared first in their seat in the front gallery (_alias_ the mid loft)
+of Portoran kirk. Nothing less than a mother's hand could have packed
+that wonderful box; its gay little muslin frocks, which Mrs. Melder "had
+never seen the like of, for fineness," its inner garments of beautiful
+linen, its bright silken sashes, its story books, resplendent in their
+gilded bindings, its parcels of sweetmeats and toys. Mrs. Melder was
+overwhelmed--the grandeur and wealth of her little charge fairly took
+away her breath.
+
+"And now when she's won to an easier speech, Miss Anne," said the good
+woman aside. "She calls me nurse--what think ye! it's a wonderful
+bairn--and ye'll hear her say lang words sometimes, that I'm sure she
+never learned frae me; it's my thought, Miss Anne, that the bairn kent
+the English tongue afore she came here, and had either forgotten't,
+or--atweel ane disna ken what to think; but this while she's ta'en to
+speaking about her mamma. It's a wonder to me that ony mother could hae
+the heart to part wi' her."
+
+"See," cried Lilie, springing to Anne's side, "look what bonnie things,"
+and she precipitated a shoal of little books upon Anne's knee.
+
+"They are very pretty, Lilie," said Anne. "Who sent you all these?"
+
+The child looked at her gravely. "It would be mamma--it was sure to be
+mamma."
+
+"Where is mamma?" asked Anne.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Far away yonder--over the big water--but she aye minds Lilie."
+
+"And why did you come away from mamma, Lilie?" said Anne.
+
+The child began to cry. "Lilie ill, ill--like to die. Oh! if you had
+seen my mamma greeting." And throwing herself down on the ground, Lilie
+fell into one of her passionate bursts of grief.
+
+"But yon wasna your mamma that brought ye here, my lamb?" said Mrs.
+Melder.
+
+Lilie continued to weep--too bitterly to give any answer.
+
+Anne turned over the books--in the blank leaf of one of them a name was
+written in a boyish hand--"Lilia Santa Clara." By-and-by the child's
+grief moderated, and, taking up her books again, she ran to the mill to
+show them to Robert.
+
+"Lilia Santa Clara," it gave no clue to the child's origin.
+
+"Haill three names!" said Mrs. Melder, "if ane only kent what her
+father's name was; the leddy that brought her here said only 'Lilias,'
+and I dinna mind if I askit the last ane in my flutter--and bonnie
+outlandish names they are; 'Lilia Santa Clara'--to think of a wean wi'
+a' thae grand names putting Melder at the hinder end!--it's out of the
+question."
+
+"Santa Clara may be the surname, Mrs. Melder," said Anne, smiling at the
+conjunction.
+
+"Eh! think ye so, Miss Anne? I never heard of folk having first names
+for their surname; though to be sure they do ca' the English flunky that
+has the confectionary shop in Portoran, Thomas. Well, it may be sae."
+
+"Does she call herself by this name?" asked Anne.
+
+"Ay, I have heard the words mony a time; and sae far as I can guess,
+Miss Anne, she maun hae been sent to yon lady frae some foreign pairt.
+Eh, bless me! there maun be some shame and reproach past the common,
+afore they sent away a bairn like yon."
+
+Jacky Morison was in a state of intense and still excitement--the fire
+had reached a white heat before they left Merkland. Barbara Genty, Mrs.
+Ross's favored maid, cast envious looks at her as she sat perched in the
+back seat of the gig, which was to convey them to Portoran. Old Esther
+Fleming, who stood without the gate to watch Miss Anne's departure,
+regarded Jacky dubiously, as if doubting her fitness for her important
+post. Jacky rose heroically to the emergency. Her faithfulness, her
+discretion, her true and loyal service, should be beyond all question
+when they returned.
+
+From her earliest recollection, Anne Ross had been Jacky's pattern and
+presiding excellence, less awful and nearer herself than Mrs.
+Catherine--and of all kinds of disinterested and unselfish devotion,
+there are few so chivalrous as the enthusiastic and loving service of a
+girl, to the grown woman who condescends to notice and protect her.
+
+When the coach arrived in Edinburgh, Anne saw from its window little
+Alice Aytoun's fair face looking for her anxiously. James and Alice were
+waiting to take her home. Anne had purposed spending the short time she
+should remain in Edinburgh, in the house of an old companion and former
+schoolfellow; but Alice clung and pleaded, there was no denying her--so
+Anne suffered herself to be guided to Mrs. Aytoun's quiet little house.
+
+Mrs. Aytoun received her with grave kindness; the affectionate
+dependence which Alice had upon the stronger character of Anne, the good
+report which James had given of her, and even her present undertaking,
+out of the way and unusual though it was, had prepossessed Mrs. Aytoun
+in her favor. And Norman--the neglected wife remembered him too, so
+delicately kind, so generous, so reverent of her weakness long ago, when
+her husband and he were friends; and though she delivered no judgment in
+his favor, her heart yet went forth in full sympathy with the brave
+sister, who was so resolute in her belief of his innocence, so eager to
+labor for its proof. Mrs. Aytoun's God-speed was music to the heart of
+Anne.
+
+And Alice, very tremulously joyful, clung about her all night long--now
+sitting on the stool at her feet, her fair curls drooping on Anne's
+knee--now leaning on her chair--now seated by her side, clasping her
+hand. James, too, with brotherly confidence and kindness, advised with
+her about her plans and future proceedings. Anne felt the atmosphere
+brighten. Surely these were good omens.
+
+In the meantime, Jacky, we regret to say, had been suffering a good deal
+from disappointment; it was not from her first glimpse of Edinburgh, but
+it was from the house in Edinburgh, which was specially honored as being
+the dwelling of "Miss Alice." Jacky had been struck with awe and
+admiration as she glanced at it from without. The great "land" looked
+very stately, and spacious, and commanding, though it did immediately
+front a street, and had neither grounds nor trees surrounding it--but
+when the immense house dwindled into a single flat, of which she could
+count all the rooms at a glance, Jacky felt the disappointment sadly.
+Then she was taken into the small bright kitchen, where Mrs. Aytoun's
+stout woman-servant, the only domestic of the household, was preparing
+tea for the travellers. Jacky was scarcely prepared for this. It might
+have been difficult, we fancy, for many persons more experienced than
+Jacky, to ascertain what claim to respect or honor, a young Scottish
+lawyer, with very little practice as yet, whose house consisted of one
+flat only, and the wants of whose establishment one woman-servant could
+supply--could possibly have.
+
+But James Aytoun had not only an excellent claim to respect and honor,
+but actually received it. It was not any empty pride either which led
+him to sign himself James Aytoun, of Aytoun. Had it not been for the
+reckless and extravagant father, whose debts had so hopelessly entangled
+his inheritance, the territorial designation would have represented many
+fair acres--a long-descended patrimony. As it was, with only a desolate
+mansion-house, in a southern county, and some bleak lands about it,
+James Aytoun, of Aytoun, was still received and honored as a gentleman
+of good family and blood--neither by descent, education, nor breeding
+beneath any family in Scotland.
+
+It is but a narrow spirit which endeavors to sneer at a distinction like
+this, and call it the pride of poverty. James Aytoun belonged to that
+well-nurtured, manly class, whose hereditary honor and good fame belong
+to the nation, and whose frank dignity of mind and tone are as far
+removed as mental loftiness can be from that vulgar and arrogant thing,
+which mean men call pride.
+
+Jacky was reconciling herself to the little Edinburgh kitchen, and had
+already entered into conversation with Tibbie, when little Bessie
+arrived from her mother's humble house in an adjacent back street, to
+renew her acquaintance with her Strathoran friend.--Jacky had many
+messages to deliver from Johnnie Halflin, which Bessie received with a
+due amount of blushing laughter.
+
+"And, Oh, Jacky! how will they ever do wanting you at the Tower?"
+
+Jacky did not apprehend the covert wit--did not even perceive that the
+rosy little Edinburgh-bred girl, was about to condescend to, and
+patronise, the awkward rustic one.
+
+"They'll only miss me, for a while, at first--and then maybe, we'll no
+be long."
+
+"Is't Miss Ross that's with you?" asked Bessie.
+
+"I'm with Miss Ross," said Jacky, quickly "Miss Anne chose me of her own
+will--after I askit her--and so did Miss Falconer."
+
+"Eh! isna she an awfu' funny lady, yon Miss Falconer?"
+
+"Funny!" Jacky was indignantly astonished. "I dinna ken what ye ca'
+funny, Bessie. She's like--"
+
+"She's no like ither folk," said Bessie.
+
+"It's you that doesna ken. She's like--"
+
+"Wha is she like, Jacky?"
+
+"She's like Belphoebe," muttered Jacky, hastily. "But ye dinna ken wha
+_she_ was--and she's a lady, for a' that she does strange thing whiles."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Is that the lady that throosh the gentleman that was gaun to be uncivil
+to our Miss Alice?" interposed Tibbie.
+
+"Yes," said Bessie laughing. Little Bessie was not above the vanity of
+being thought to know these north country magnates.--"And on New-year's
+night, when all the ladies were at the Tower, (ye mind, Jacky?) Miss
+Falconer gied me a shilling a' to mysel, for bringing her napkin to her,
+that she had left in Miss Alice's dressing-room--and nippit my lug, and
+tell't me to take care o' Miss Alice--she ca'ed her my little mistress.
+Isna she an awful height herself?"
+
+"She's no so tall as Mrs. Catherine," said Jacky.
+
+"Eh, Jacky! Miss Alice didna come up to her shouther, and she's a haill
+head higher than Miss Ross."
+
+Jacky did not choose to answer: though why there should seem any slight
+to Marjory, in an exaggeration of her stature, we cannot tell. Without
+doubt, Belphoebe was to the full as tall as she.
+
+"Do you ken that Merkland's been in Edinburgh?" asked Bessie. In
+Strathoran she had called Lewis, Mr. Ross; now she was bent on
+impressing Tibbie with a deep sense of her own familiarity with these
+great people. "Eh, Jacky, do you mind what Johnnie Halflin used to say
+about Merkland?"
+
+Jacky had a high sense of honor. She made an elfin face at her talkative
+companion, and remained prudently silent.
+
+"What did he say?" asked Tibbie.
+
+"Ou naithing. Jacky and me kens."
+
+"An he said onything ill, I redd him to keep out o' the power o' my ten
+talents. He's a young blackguard, like maist feck of his kind, I'll
+warrant--idle serving callants, wi' nought to do in this world, but
+claver about their betters, wi' light-headed gilpies, like yoursel. I
+wad just like to ken what he said!"
+
+"It was naething ill," said Jacky.
+
+"Oh, he'll be a lad to some o' ye, nae doubt--set ye up! But I can tell
+ye, he had better no come here to say an ill word o' young Mr. Ross."
+
+"Miss Anne's Mr. Lewis's sister," said Jacky, decisively.--"Johnnie
+dauredna say a word ill o' him--only that he was--"
+
+Bessie laughed--_she_ had no honorable scruples, but maliciously
+refrained from helping Jacky out.
+
+"Only about Miss Alice and him."
+
+"Weel ye're a queer lassie," said Mrs. Aytoun's maid. "Could ye no have
+tell't me that at first?"
+
+Bessie laughed again.
+
+"And, Jacky, is the wee fairy lady aye at the Mill yet?"
+
+"Wha's that?" cried the curious Tibbie.
+
+"Oh, it's a wee bairn that the fairies sent to Strathoran. She was a'
+dressed in green silk, and had wings like Miss Alice's white veil, and
+was riding on a pony as white as snaw; and the miller's wife took her
+in, and her wings took lowe at the fire, and she would have been a'
+burned, if Miss Ross hadna saved her--and Johnnie Halflin saw her wi'
+his ain e'en--and they say she's some kin to Jacky."
+
+Jacky repelled the insult with immense disdain.
+
+"If I had Johnnie Halflin here, I would douk him in the Oran."
+
+"Ye might douk him in the water o' Leith, Jacky," said Bessie, laughing;
+"but the Oran's no here, mind."
+
+Jacky was indignantly silent.
+
+"And wha is she?" inquired Tibbie.
+
+"She's a little girl," said Jacky, with some dignity, "a very bonnie wee
+foreign lady; and Mrs. Melder keeps her at the Mill, and she speaks in a
+strange tongue, and sings sangs--low, sweet, floating sangs--ye never
+heard the like of them, and her name is Lilie."
+
+"Lilie what?"
+
+"I dinna ken. She says her name is Lilia Santa Clara, but neabody kens
+whether that's her last name or no."
+
+"Losh!" exclaimed Tibbie, "will she be canny, after a'?"
+
+"Canny!--you should look nearer yoursel," said Bessie, with laughing
+malice.
+
+"Never heed her," said Tibbie. "Sit into the table, and take your tea.
+She's a light-headed fuil--and ye can tell Johnnie Halflin that frae
+me."
+
+"Is Miss Anne gaun to bide in Edinburgh?" inquired Bessie, as they
+seated themselves at Tibbie's clean, small table.
+
+"No--she's gaun to the sea-side."
+
+"Eh, Jacky, where? we'll come out and see ye."
+
+"I dinna mind the name of the place," said Jacky, "but it's on the
+sea-side."
+
+"And what's Miss Anne gaun to do?"
+
+Jacky paused to deliberate. "She's no gaun to do onything.--She's just
+gaun to please hersel."
+
+"Ay," said the inquisitive Bessie, "but what is't for?"
+
+"It's maybe for something good," said Jacky, quickly, "for that's aye
+Miss Anne's way; but she wasna gaun to tell me."
+
+"But what do you _think_ it is, Jacky?" persisted Bessie, "ane can aye
+gie a guess--is she gaun to be married?"
+
+"No!" exclaimed Jacky indignantly, "Married! It's because ye dinna ken
+Miss Anne."
+
+"Miss Anne's just like ither folk," was the laughing response; "and
+there's nae ill in being married."
+
+"Lassie, there'll be news o' you, if you're no a' the better hadden in,"
+cried Tibbie. "Set ye up wi' your lads and your marryings! Maybe the
+young lady's delicate, or she'll hae friends at the sea-side."
+
+To which more delicate fishing interrogatories, Jacky, who knew that
+Anne was neither delicate nor had any friend at the sea-side, prudently
+refrained from making any answer.
+
+The next day, Anne, accompanied by Mrs. Aytoun and Alice, set out for
+Aberford on a search for lodgings. Mrs. Aytoun had a friend, a regular
+frequenter of all places of general resort, whose list of sea-bathing
+quarters was almost a perfect one, and fortified by the results of her
+experience, they departed upon their quest, leaving Jacky in Bessie's
+care behind them, to dream at her leisure over that wonderful Edinburgh,
+whose stately olden beauty the strange girl, after her own fashion,
+could appreciate so well.
+
+Anne observed, with regret and sympathy, the gloom of silence that fell
+over the kind mother by her side, as they approached their destination.
+She observed the long, sad glances thrown through the windows of the
+coach at the country road, known long ago, when Mrs. Aytoun was not a
+widow. There were no other passengers to restrain their conversation,
+and when they were very near the village, Mrs. Aytoun pointed to a
+house, surrounded with wood, and standing at a considerable distance
+from the road. "Yonder, Alice, look--you were born there."
+
+Alice looked eagerly out. "You liked this place better than Aytoun,
+mother? Aytoun must have been very gloomy always."
+
+"Aytoun was a larger house than we needed, Alice--you have heard me say
+so--and I was in very delicate health then. I was never well while--"
+your father lived, Mrs. Aytoun was about to say, but she checked herself
+hurriedly; not even in so slight a way would she reproach the dead.
+
+The coach stopped--they were in the dull main street of the village.
+Mrs. Aytoun took out her list--at the head of the column stood "Mrs.
+Yammer"--the sea-bathing friend had particularly recommended the house,
+whose mistress bore so distressful a name. It was a short way out of the
+village, close upon the sea-side; they turned to seek it.
+
+The magnificent Firth lay bright before them, its islands standing out
+darkly from its bosom, and its sunny glories bounded by the fertile
+shores and distant hills of the ancient kingdom of Fife. The exuberant
+wealth of these rich Lothian lands was bursting out around into Spring's
+blythest green--a sunny April sky overhead, and April air waving in its
+golden breadths about them everywhere--it was impossible to think of
+sadness there. The shadow of her old woe floated away from Mrs. Aytoun's
+unselfish spirit--Alice was so gay, Anne so pleasantly exhilarated, that
+she could not refuse to rejoice with them.
+
+Mrs. Yammer's house promised well. It was seated upon a gentle
+elevation--its front, at least, for the elevation made a very abrupt
+descent, and so procured that the rooms which were on the ground-floor
+before, should be the second story behind. In front ran the road leading
+to the country town, beyond there were some brief intervening fields,
+and then the sands. It was not above ten minutes walk from the immediate
+shore. At some little distance further on, there stood a house close to
+the water, standing up, gaunt and tall, from among a few trees. In the
+bright, living spring-day, it had a spectral, desolate look about it.
+Anne remarked it with some curiosity as she glanced round; but Mrs.
+Aytoun had already knocked, and she had not time to look again.
+
+The door was opened by an energetic little servant, who ushered the
+ladies into an airy, lightsome parlor, with which Alice Aytoun was in
+ecstasies. One window looked out on the sea--the other, in a corner of
+the room, had a pleasant view of the fresh green country road, and
+glimpse of the village of Aberford itself in the distance; the furniture
+was very tolerable--the whole room particularly clean.
+
+"O, Anne!" exclaimed Alice Aytoun, "I will come to see you every week!"
+
+A little woman bustled into the room. She had on an old silk gown,
+curiously japanned by long service, and possessing in an uncommon degree
+the faculty of rustling--a comical, little, quick, merry, eccentric
+face--some curls which looked exceedingly like bits of twisted wire,
+covered by a clean cap of embroidered muslin, with a very plain border
+of well-darned lace. Mrs. Aytoun hesitated. To call this little person
+"Mrs." anything, was palpably absurd; yet they had asked for Mrs.
+Yammer.
+
+"It's no me, it's my sister," said the brisk little person before them.
+"I'm Miss Crankie. Will ye sit down ladies? I am very glad to see you."
+
+Mrs. Aytoun sat down--little Alice concealed her laugh by looking
+steadfastly down the road, at the distant roofs of Aberford, and Anne
+took a chair beside her.
+
+"Is't no a grand prospect?" said Miss Crankie, "a' the Firth before us,
+and the town at our right hand--a young lady that was here last simmer
+said to Tammie (that's my sister, Mrs. Yammer, her name's Thomasine--we
+call her Tammie for shortness,) 'If it wasna for breaking the tenth
+command, I would covert ye your house, Mrs. Yammer,'--and so dry, and
+free from drafts, and every way guid for an invalid. It's uncommonly
+weel likit."
+
+"It seems a very nice house," said Mrs. Aytoun. "Are your rooms
+disengaged, Miss Crankie?"
+
+"For what time was ye wanting them, Mem?" said Miss Crankie. "There's
+young Mrs. Mavis is to be here in July, and Miss Todd was speaking of
+bringing ower her brother's bairns in August--but I'm aye fond to oblige
+a lady--for what time was ye wanting them?"
+
+"This young lady, Miss Ross"--Miss Crankie honored Anne with a queer nod
+and a smile, which very nearly upset the gravity of Alice, and put
+Anne's own in jeopardy, "desires to have lodgings in the neighborhood
+for this month, and, perhaps, May.--What do you think, my dear? will you
+need them longer?"
+
+"I hope not," said Anne, "but still, it is possible I may."
+
+"Miss Ross requires change of air," said Mrs. Aytoun, faltering and
+endeavoring to excuse her equivocation, by noticing that Anne did look
+pale.
+
+"Of scene, rather," said Anne, slightly affected by the same hesitation.
+It was true, however, if not in the usual sense.
+
+Miss Crankie fixed her odd little black eye upon Anne, nodded, and
+looked as if she comprehended perfectly.
+
+"Will you be able to accommodate Miss Ross and her servant, Miss
+Crankie?"
+
+"That will I; there's no better accommodation in the haill Lothians;
+and, for change of scene, what could heart desire better than that--ay,
+or that either, young Miss, which is as bonnie a country view (no to be
+the sea) as can be seen. Will ye look at the bed-room?"
+
+Miss Crankie darted out, leading the way. Mrs. Aytoun, Anne, and Alice
+followed. The bed-room was immediately behind the parlor, resplendent in
+all the glory of white covers, and chintz curtains, and with an
+embowered window looking out upon "the green," which was separated from
+the kitchen-garden by a thick hedge of sweet-briar. Alice was delighted,
+and Anne so perfectly satisfied, that Mrs. Aytoun made the bargain. The
+rooms were taken, together with a little den up stairs for Jacky. Miss
+Crankie faithfully promised in her own name and Mrs. Yammer's, that the
+apartments should be ready for Anne's reception next day; and when they
+had partaken of a frugal refreshment--some very peculiar wine of Miss
+Crankie's own manufacture, and cake to correspond--they left the house.
+
+The day was so very beautiful, and Alice enjoyed the rare excursion so
+much, that they prolonged their walk. "Do you think I could walk out
+from Edinburgh, mother?" said Alice. "I should like so well to come and
+see Anne often; and, Anne, you will be dull alone."
+
+"But you will laugh at Miss Crankie, Alice," said Anne, smiling, "and so
+get into her bad graces."
+
+Alice laughed. "Is she not a very strange person?"
+
+"I have no doubt you will find her a kindly body," said Mrs. Aytoun;
+"But I hope Jacky's sense of the ludicrous is not so keen as her poetic
+feelings. You must take care of Jacky."
+
+"O, mamma," said Alice, "you don't know what a strange good girl Jacky
+is. People laugh at her, but she would not hurt any one's feelings."
+
+"You do Jacky justice, Alice," said Anne. "She _is_ a strange _good_
+girl--she--"
+
+Anne paused suddenly, breathless and excited. Who was that tall, gaunt
+woman, walking thoughtfully with bent head and lingering foot step, over
+the sands? She seemed to have come from the spectral dark house, which
+Anne had noticed before, looming so drearily over the sunny waters. She
+raised her eyes as they met--the large, wistful, melancholy eyes fell
+upon Anne's face. It was the unknown relative of little Lilie--the
+passenger who, six months ago, had lingered to cast that same searching,
+woeful look upon the house of Merkland.
+
+Anne was startled and amazed. She thought the stranger seemed disturbed
+also. Her eyes appeared to dilate and grow keener as she looked
+earnestly at Anne, and then passed on.
+
+"Do you know that person?" said Mrs. Aytoun, wonderingly.
+
+Anne turned to look after her; instead of her former slow pace, her
+steps were now nervously quick and unsteady. Surely some unknown emotion
+strong and powerful, had risen in the stranger's breast from this
+meeting. Anne answered Mrs. Aytoun with an effort. "I do not know
+her--but I have seen her before--I met her once in Strathoran."
+
+They went on. Anne's mind was engrossed--she could not, as before, take
+part in the gay conversation of Alice. Mrs. Aytoun perceived her
+gravity. After some time, she asked again: "Do you know who she is? I
+see you are interested in her."
+
+"I do not know her at all," said Anne. "You will think me very foolish,
+Mrs. Aytoun, it is her look--her eyes--she has a very remarkable face."
+
+"Probably she lives here," said Mrs. Aytoun. "Let us look at this
+house."
+
+The house was no less spectral and gaunt, when they were near it, than
+at a distance. Many of the windows were closed--the large garden seemed
+perfectly neglected--only some pale spring flowers bloomed in front of a
+low projecting window, where there seemed to linger some remnants of
+cultivation. "It is a mysterious looking house," said Mrs. Aytoun; "she
+may keep it perhaps--but there certainly can be no family living here."
+
+By-and-by they returned to Edinburgh--where Anne spent the remainder of
+the day in making some necessary calls. She spoke as little as possible
+of her intention of remaining in Aberford--those ordinary questions were
+so difficult to answer.
+
+And who was this melancholy woman who had brought little Lilie to
+Strathoran? Could _she_ have any connection with Norman's history, or
+was it only the prevailing tone of Anne's mind and thoughts that threw
+its fantastic coloring on every object she looked upon?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+
+Upon the next day, Anne, accompanied by Jacky, left Edinburgh finally
+for her Aberford lodgings. She felt the isolation strangely at first:
+being alone in her own room, and being alone in the parlor of Mrs.
+Yammer's house, were two very different things. She seated herself by
+the window as these long afternoon hours wore on. Jacky sat at the other
+end of the room, already engaged on some one of the numberless linen
+articles, which had been provided by her prudent mother, to keep her
+occupied. Jacky had already cast several longing glances at the little
+shelf between the windows, which contained the books of Mrs. Yammer's
+household, but the awe of Anne's presence was upon her; she sewed and
+dreamed in silence.
+
+The dark spectral house by the waterside--the melancholy woman who had
+taken Lilie to Strathoran--Anne's mind was full of these. Now and then a
+chance passenger upon the high road crossed before her; once or twice
+she had seen a solitary figure on the sands. None of these bore the same
+look. The steady pace of country business, and the meditative one of
+country leisure she could notice--nowhere the slow lingering heavy
+footsteps, the wistful melancholy face which distinguished the one
+individual, whom that fantastic spirit of imagination had already
+associated with Norman's fate.
+
+Anne had decided upon beginning her inquiries on the next day. She
+hastily bethought herself now, of a mode of making this evening of some
+service in her search; and turning to Jacky, bade her ask Miss Crankie
+and Mrs. Yammer to take tea with her.--Jacky with some hesitation
+obeyed--she thought it was letting down Miss Anne's dignity. Miss Anne
+herself thought it was rather disagreeable and unpleasant: nevertheless,
+it might be of use, and she was content to endure it.
+
+Miss Crankie had a turban, terrible to behold, made of black net, with
+what looked like spangles of yellow paint upon it, which she wore on
+solemn occasions. In honor of her new lodger, she donned it to-night.
+Jacky arranged the tea in almost sulky silence. At the appointed hour,
+Miss Crankie and her sister sailed solemnly in.
+
+It was the merest fiction to call this pleasant house the property of
+Mrs. Yammer, as all who were favored with any glimpse into its domestic
+arrangements could easily perceive. Mrs. Yammer was a woeful, patient,
+resigned woman, very meekly submitting to the absolute dominion of
+"Johann," saved for a feeble murmuring of her own complaints, the most
+voiceless and passive of weak-minded sisters. Miss Johann Crankie was
+very kind to the woeful widow, who hung upon her active hands so
+helplessly. She shut her ears to Mrs. Yammer's countless aches and
+palpitations, as long as it was practicable--when she could no longer
+avoid hearing them, she administered bitter physic, and mustard
+plasters; a discipline which was generally successful in frightening
+away the distempers for some time.
+
+Mrs. Yammer, in a much-suffering plaintive voice, immediately began to
+tell Anne of the palpitations of her heart. Miss Crankie fidgeted on her
+seat, shooting odd glances at Jacky, and intelligent ones of ludicrous
+pity at Anne, who endured Mrs. Yammer's enumeration of troubles as
+patiently as was possible. The tea was a fortunate diversion.
+
+"What is the name of that house on the waterside, Miss Crankie?" asked
+Anne.
+
+"That's Schole, Miss Ross," said Miss Crankie, with the air of a person
+who introduces a notability. "You will have heard of it before, no
+doubt? It came into the possession of the present Laird, when he was in
+his cradle, puir bairn, and his light-headed gowk of a mother has him
+away, bringing him up in England.--She's English hersel: maybe ye might
+ca' that an excuse. I say its a downright imposition and shame to tak
+callants away to a strange country to get their breeding, when a'body
+kens there's no the like o' us for learning in a' the world and Fife?"
+
+"And does the proprietor of the house live in it now?" said Anne.
+
+"Bless me, no--the Laird's but a callant yet. Tammie, woman, what year
+was't that auld Schole died?"
+
+"It was afore I was married," said Mrs. Yammer, dolefully.--"I was a
+lang tangle of a lassie then, Miss Ross; and I mind o' rinning out
+without my bonnet, and wi' bare shoulders, and standing by the roadside,
+to see the funeral gang by. I have never been free o' rheumatism since
+that day--whiles in my head--whiles in my arm--whiles--"
+
+"Miss Ross will hear a' round o' them afore she gangs away, Tammie,"
+said Miss Crankie, impatiently, "or else it'll be a wonderful year. It's
+maybe fifteen or sixteen years ago; and the widow and the bairn were off
+to England in the first month. Ye may tak my word for't, there wasna
+muckle grief, though there was crape frae head to fit of her. I mind the
+funeral as weel as if it had passed this morning--folk pretending they
+were honoring the dead, that would scarce have spoken a word to him when
+he was a living man. He was an old, penurious nasty body, that bought a
+young wife wi' his filthy siller. Ye mind him, Tammie?"
+
+"Mind him!" said the martyr Tammie, pathetically, "ay, I have guid
+reason to mind him. Was I no confined to my bed, haill six weeks after
+that weary funeral wi' the ticdouleureux? the tae cheek swelled, and the
+tither cheek blistered. I ken naebody, Johann, that has guid reason to
+mind him as me."
+
+"Weel, weel," said Miss Crankie, "it was a strong plaister of guid
+mustard that cured ye. It's a comfort that ane needs nae advice to
+prepare that--its baith easy made and effectual."
+
+Mrs. Yammer was cowed into silence. Miss Crankie, with a triumphant
+chuckle, went on: "And since then there's been no word of them, Miss
+Ross, except an intimation in the newspapers, that the light-headed fuil
+of a woman had married again. Pity the poor bairn that has gotten a
+stepfather over him, for bye being keeped out of the knowledge o' his
+ain land. I was ance in England mysel. There's no an article in't but
+flat fields, and dead water, and dreary lines o' hedges. Ye may gang
+frae the tae end to the tither (a' but the north part, and its maistly
+our ain,) and never ken ye have made a mile's progress--its a' the same
+thing ower again--and sleek cattle, beasts and men, that ken about
+naething in this world but eating and drinking. To think of a callant
+being keeped there, out of the knowledge of his ain country, and it a
+country like this!"
+
+"It is a great pity, certainly," said Anne, smiling.
+
+"Pity! it's a downright wrong and injury to the lad--there's nae saying
+if his mind will ever get the better o't."
+
+"And is the house empty?" said Anne; "does no one live in it?"
+
+"Naebody that belangs to the house--but there are folk in't.--There's a
+brother and a sister o' them, and they're far frae common folk."
+
+"Is the sister tall and thin--with large, dark, melancholy eyes?" said
+Anne, anxiously.
+
+"Ay, Miss Ross," said Miss Crankie, casting a sharp inquisitive look at
+Anne; "where hae ye fa'en in with her? it's no often she has ony
+commerce with strangers."
+
+"I met her on the sands," said Anne, suppressing her agitation with an
+effort; "and was very much struck by her look."
+
+"I dinna wonder at that--she never was just like ither folk; and since
+her sister died--puir Kirstin!"
+
+"Have they a story then?" said Anne; she was trembling with interest and
+impatience--she could scarcely contain herself to ask the question.
+
+"Ay, nae doubt, ye'll be fond of stories, Miss Ross? the most of you
+young ladies are."
+
+"I do feel very much interested in that singular melancholy woman," said
+Anne, tremulously.
+
+Miss Crankie examined her face with an odd magpie-like curiosity. Anne
+smiled in spite of herself. The strange little head nodded, and Miss
+Crankie began:
+
+"Ye see, Kirstin and me were at the schule thegither. Ye think Kirstin's
+younger-like than me? Ay, so she is. I was dux of the class and reading
+in the Bible, when Kirstin began wi' the question book; but we were at
+the schule thegither for a' that--there's maybe six or seven years
+between us. There were three of a family of them; their father had been
+a doctor--a wild, reckless, dissipated man, like what ower mony were,
+and the family was puir. I used to take them pieces when they were wee
+bairns--ye mind, Tammie?"
+
+"Ay," said the doleful Tammie, "ye see Johann has a pleasure in minding
+thae times, Miss Ross. It's different wi'a puir frail widow woman like
+me; the last year I was at the schule I was never dune wi' the
+toothache."
+
+"Kirstin was the auldest," said Miss Crankie, turning her back
+impatiently upon her sister, "and Patrick was next to her, and there was
+as bonnie a bit lassie as ever you saw, Miss Ross, that was the youngest
+of the three--she wasna like the young lady that was here yesterday--she
+was darker and mair womanlike; but eh! she was bonnie.
+
+"They had nae mother--Kirstin was like the mother of them. We used to
+laugh at her, when she was a wean of maybe twelve hersel, guiding the
+other twa like as if they had been her ain bairns; she was aye quiet and
+thoughtful. I was an uncommon grand hand at the bools mysel, and could
+throw the ba' as far as Robbie King the heckler--ye mind, Tammie?"
+
+"Ye threw't on my head yince and broke the skin," said the disconsolate
+invalid. "Eh, Miss Ross, the sore headaches I was trysted wi' when I was
+a bairn!"
+
+"I am saying there were three of them," interrupted Miss Crankie. "They
+had some bit annuity that keepit them scrimply, and by guid fortune the
+father died when Kirstin was about seventeen; so how she guided the
+siller I canna tell, or if there was a blessing on't like the widow's
+cruise that never toomed; but she keepit hersel and her little sister
+decent, and sent Patrick to the college wi' the rest. They had a
+cottage, and a guid big garden--she used to be aye working in the garden
+hersel. I believe they lived on greens and taties a' the week, and
+never had fleshmeat in the house but on the Sabbath-day, when Patrick
+was at hame. Mind, I'm only saying I _think_ that, for they were aye
+decently put on, and made a puir mouth to nobody.
+
+"Patrick was serving his time to be a doctor. He was dune wi' his
+studies, and was biding at hame for a rest, when a young gentleman that
+was heir of an auld property, on the ither side of Aberford, came into
+his fortune. Ye'll maybe have heard of him, Miss Ross--the poor,
+misguided, unhappy young lad--they ca'ed him Mr. Rutherford, of
+Redheugh."
+
+Anne could hardly restrain an involuntary start; she answered, as calmly
+as she could:
+
+"I have heard the name."
+
+"Ay, nae doubt--mony mair folk have heard his name than had ony
+occasion; it was his ain fault to be sure, but he was just a' the mair
+to be pitied for that."
+
+"I was aye chief wi' Kirstin. I liked her--maybe she didna dislike me.
+I've weeded her flowers to her mony a time. I was throughither whiles in
+my young days, Miss Ross--no very, but gey. I yince loupit from the top
+of our garden wa' wi' her wee sister in my arms--I had near gotten a
+lilt with it, for I twisted my ancle--and that would have been a
+misfortune."
+
+"Ye trampit on my fit--it's never been right since," said Mrs. Yammer;
+"ye never were out o' mischief."
+
+Miss Crankie gave a sidelong look up to Anne, with her odd, merry,
+little black eyes, and laughed; she took the accusation as a compliment.
+
+"Weel, but that's no my story. Ye see, Miss Ross, they were never like
+ither folk--there was aye something about them--I canna describe it.
+Mrs. Clippie, the Captain's wife, was genteeler than them--to tell the
+truth we were genteeler oursels; but for a' that, there was just
+something--I never could ken what it was. They keepit no company, but a'
+the lads were daft about Marion."
+
+"What Marion?" exclaimed Anne, eagerly.
+
+"Oh, just Marion Lillie, Kirstin's sister."
+
+"Marion Lillie!" a wild thrill of hope, and fear, and wonder shot
+through Anne's frame. What could that strange conjunction of names
+portend?
+
+"So ye see, the young gentleman, Mr. Rutherford, of Redheugh, came to
+the countryside--and Kirstin's house is near his gate, and so he behoved
+to see the bonnie face at the window. It wasna like he could miss it.
+
+"Before lang he had gotten very chief wi' the haill family--they didna
+tak it as ony honor--they were just as if they thought themsels the
+young Laird's equals; but they were awfu' fond o' him. I have seen
+Patrick's face flush like fire if onybody minted a slighting word of
+young Redheugh--no that it was often done, for there was never a man
+better likit--and Kirstin herself treated him like anither brother, and
+for Marion--weel, she was but a lassie; but the Laird and her were just
+like the light of ilk ither's e'en.
+
+"Ye may think, Miss Ross, there was plenty said about it in the
+countryside. Rich folk said it wasna right, and puir folk said it wasna
+right; but Kirstin guarded her young sister so, that naebody daured mint
+a word of ill--it was only spite and ill-nature.
+
+"Maybe, Miss Ross, your maid will carry ben the tray? or I can cry upon
+Sarah."
+
+Miss Crankie lifted up her voice and called at its loudest pitch for her
+handmaiden. Sarah entered, and cleared away the tea equipage with
+Jacky's tardy assistance. Jacky was by no means pleased to find her
+attendance no longer necessary; she had managed to hear a good deal of
+the story, and thirsted anxiously for its conclusion.
+
+"Bring me my basket, Sarah," said Miss Crankie. "Miss Ross, ye'll excuse
+me if I take my work. I have no will to be idle--it's an even down
+punishment to me."
+
+Mrs. Yammer crossed her hands languidly upon her lap and sighed. Sarah
+returned, bearing a capacious work-basket, from which Miss Crankie took
+a white cotton stocking, in which were various promising holes. "If ye
+want onything of this kind done, I'll be very glad, Miss Ross--I'm a
+special guid hand."
+
+Anne thanked her.
+
+"But your'e wearying for the end of my story, I see," said Miss Crankie,
+"just let me get my needle threaded."
+
+The needle was threaded--the stocking was drawn upon Miss Crankie's
+arm--the black turban nodded in good-humored indication of having
+settled itself comfortably--and the story was resumed.
+
+"About that time, when young Redheugh was at his very chiefest with the
+Lillies, and folk said he was going to be married upon Marion, a
+gentleman came to stay here awhile for the benefit of the sea-side. His
+wife was a bit delicate young thing--they said he wasna ower guid to
+her. They lived on the other side of the town, and their name was
+Aytoun. Mr. Rutherford and him had gotten acquaint in Edinburgh, and for
+awhile they were great cronies. Patrick Lillie could not bide this
+stranger gentleman--what for I dinna ken--but folk said Redheugh and him
+had some bit tifft of an outcast about him; onyway it made no difference
+in their friendship.
+
+"But one July morning, Miss Ross, we were a' startled maist out of our
+senses: there was an awfu' story got up of a dead man being found by the
+waterside, just on the skirts of yon muckle wood that runs down close by
+the sea, and who should this be but the stranger gentleman, Mr. Aytoun.
+Somebody had shot him like a coward frae behind, and when they looked
+among the bushes, lo! there was a gun lying, and whose name do you think
+was on't? just Mr. Rutherford's, of Redheugh.
+
+"The haill country was in a fever--the like of that ye ken was a
+disgrace to us a'--and it was in everybody's mouth. The first body I
+thought of was Marion Lillie; the day before she had gone into
+Edinburgh--folk said it was to get her wedding dress. Eh, puir lassie!
+was that no a awfu' story for a bride to hear?
+
+"They gaed to apprehend Mr. Rutherford the same night, but he had fled,
+and was away before they got to Redheugh, no man kent whither. I met
+Christian that day; though I ca' her Kirstin speaking to you, I say aye
+Miss Lillie to herself. In the one day that the murder was done she had
+gotten yon look. It feared me when I saw it. Her e'en were travelling
+far away, as if she could see to ony distance, but had nae vision for
+things at hand. 'Eh, Miss Lillie!' I said to her, 'isna this an awfu'
+thing; wha could have thought it of young Redheugh!'
+
+"'I will never believe it!' she said, in a wild away: 'he is not guilty.
+I will never believe it!'
+
+"'And Miss Marion,' said I, 'bless me, it will break the puir lassie's
+heart.'
+
+"'I will not let her come home,' said Kirstin, 'I will send her to the
+west country to my father's friends. She must not come home.'
+
+"She would never say before that there was onything between her sister
+and young Redheugh--now she never tried to deny it, her heart was ower
+full.
+
+"Weel, Miss Ross, the miserable young man had gotten away in a foreign
+ship, and they hadna been at sea aboon a week when she foundered, and a'
+hands were lost; and there was an end of his crime and his
+punishment--they were baith buried in the sea.
+
+"But no the misery of them--the puir lassie was taen away somegate about
+Glasgow, but the news came to her ears there. What could ye think, Miss
+Ross? It wasna like a common death--there was nae hope in it, either for
+this world or the next. It crushed her, as the hail crushes flowers.
+Within a fortnight after that, bonnie Marion Lillie was in her grave.
+
+"Patrick was taen ill of a fever--they say the angry words he had spoken
+about Mr. Aytoun to young Redheugh lay heavy on his mind. Kirstin had to
+nurse him night and day--she couldna even leave him to see Marion
+buried. She died, and was laid in her grave among strangers. When
+Patrick was able to leave his bed, the two went west to see the
+grave--that was all that remained of their bonnie sister Marion.
+
+"Since that time they have lived sorrowful and solitary, keeping company
+with naebody; the sore stroke has crushed them baith. Patrick never
+sought his doctor's licence, nor tried to get a single patient. He has
+been ever since a broken-down, weak, invalid man."
+
+"He had a frail constitution like my ain," said Mrs. Yammer, "and Johann
+maun aye have some great misfortune to account for it, when it's
+naething but weakness. Eh, Miss Ross, if ye only kent the trouble it is
+to a puir frail creature like me to make any exertion."
+
+Miss Crankie twisted her strange little figure impatiently:
+
+"When auld Schole died, Christian and Patrick flitted into the house,
+and let their ain; they couldna bide it after that. It's a bit bonnie
+wee place, maybe twa miles on the ither side of Aberford; and Redheugh
+is maybe a quarter o' a mile nearer. They say the King gets the lands
+when ony man does a crime like that; it's what they ca' confiscate.
+Redheugh has been confiscate before now. The auld Rutherfords were
+Covenanters langsyne, and lost their inheritance some time in the
+eight-and-twenty years--but that was in a guid cause. Ony way, this Mr.
+Rutherford was the last of his name: if there had been ony heir, I kenna
+whether he could have gotten Redheugh or no, but it's a mercy the race
+is clean gane, and there is none living to bear the reproach."
+
+Anne's heart beat loudly against her breast; she remained to represent
+the fallen house of Rutherford--she was the heir--the reproach: and the
+suffering must be her's as well as Norman's.
+
+"And was there no doubt?" she asked, "was no one else suspected?"
+
+"Bless me, no; wha in our quiet countryside would lift a hand against a
+man's life? If he hadna done it, he wadna have fled away; and if Kirstin
+had ony certainty that he hadna done it, do you think she could have
+bidden still? Na, I ken Kirstin Lillie better. Patrick was aye a weakly
+lad, ower gentle for the like of that, but Kirstin could never have
+sitten down in idleset if there had been ony hope. Mony a heart was wae
+for him at the time, but the story has blawn by now; few folk think of
+it. I wadna have tell't ye, Miss Ross, if ye hadna noticed Kirstin first
+yoursel--but ye'll no mention it again."
+
+"I certainly will not do anything that could hurt Miss Lillie's
+feelings," said Anne.
+
+"Ye see, she's half housekeeper of Schole the now; she pays nae rent, or
+if there's ony, it's just for the name, and the house is sae
+dismal-looking that naebody seeks to see't. You would think they couldna
+thole a living face dear them; they gang to the Kirk regular, and whiles
+ye will see them wandering on the sands; but for visiting onybody, or
+having onybody visiting them, ye might as weel think of the spirits in
+heaven having commune with us that are on the earth."
+
+"And that minds me," said Mrs. Yammer, breaking in with a long loud
+sigh, which the impatient Miss Crankie knew by dire experience was the
+prelude to a doleful story, "of the awfu' fright I got after my man John
+Yammer was laid in his grave, that brought on my palpitation. Ye see,
+Miss Ross, I was sitting my lane, yae eerie night about Martinmas, in my
+wee parlor that looks out on the green; and Johann, she was away at
+Aberford, laying in some saut meat for the winter--wasna it saut meat,
+Johann?"
+
+"Never you mind, Tammie, my woman," said Johann, persuasively. "We're
+dune wi' saut meat for this year."
+
+"Ay, but it was just to let Miss Ross see the danger of ower muckle
+thought, and how it brought on my palpitation. Eh woman, Johann, if ye
+only kent how my puir heart beats whiles, louping in my breast like a
+living creature!"
+
+And the whole story was inflicted upon Anne--of how Mrs. Yammer, on the
+aforesaid dreary Martinmas night, fancied she saw the shadow of the
+umquhile John, gloomily lowering on her parlor wall; of how her heart
+"played thud and cracked, like as it wad burst," as the shadowy head
+nodded solemnly, darkening the whole apartment; of how at last Johann
+returned, and with profane laughter, discovered the ghost to be the
+shadow of a branch of the old elm without, some bare twigs upon the
+extremity of which were fashioned into the likeness of an exceeding
+retrousee nose, "the very marrow" of that prominent feature in the face
+of the late lamented John; of which discovery his mournful relic was but
+half convinced, and her heart had palpitated since, "sometimes less, and
+sometimes mair, but I've never been quit o't for a week at a time."
+
+The infliction terminated at last, Miss Crankie carried her sister off
+when the gloaming began to darken, having sufficient discernment to
+perceive that Anne's patience had been enough tried for a beginning.
+
+Anne's thoughts were in a maze. She sat down by the window in the soft
+gloom of the spring night, and looked towards the house, where beat
+another true and faithful heart which had wept and yearned over
+Norman--Marion--Marion--was she living or dead? could this Christian
+Lillie be aware of Norman's existence, and of his innocence? There could
+not be two betrothed Marions. In the latter part of the story, the
+countryside must have been deceived. Who so likely to accompany the
+exile as the sister of this brave woman, who had done the housemother's
+self-denying duty in her earliest youth? Anne's pulse beat quick, she
+became greatly agitated; was there then a tie of near connexion between
+herself and this stranger, whose path she had again crossed? Was
+Norman's wife Christian's sister? had they an equal stake in the return
+of the exile?
+
+She could not sit still--cold dew was bursting upon her forehead; she
+walked from window to window in feverish excitement. Could she dare to
+ask?--could she venture to make herself known? Alas, she was still no
+whit advanced in her search for proof of Norman's innocence! If
+Christian Lillie had possessed any clue, she must, it was certain, have
+used it before now; and until some advance had been made, these two
+strangers in their singular kindred would not dare to whisper to one
+another that Norman lived.
+
+Anne threw herself upon her chair again. And Lilie--who was Lilie? Why
+was this stranger child brought--of all localities in the world--to the
+neighbourhood of Merkland? Could it be? could it be? her heart grew sick
+with feverish hope and anxiety; her mind continued to hover about, and
+dwell upon this mystery; but she almost forcibly restrained herself from
+articulate thought upon it--she could not venture yet to entertain the
+hope.
+
+And Norman! Esther Fleming's story had brought him out clear before her,
+in the gay light of his generous boyhood.--Graver and more deeply
+affecting was this. Who might venture to compute the untold agonies of
+that terrible time of parting--the nervous compulsory strength of the
+girl-heart that went with him--the stern patience of the maturer one,
+who above by the sick-bed at home! Grief that must have remained with
+all its burning sense of wrong, and heavy endurance of an undeserved
+curse, since ever little Alice Aytoun opened her blue eyes to the
+light--a lifetime of pain, and fear, and sorrow--too dreadful to look
+back upon!
+
+And Anne's heart sank when she looked forward--living here, in the
+immediate spot where the deed was done, with all facility for collecting
+favorable evidence, and with better knowledge, and a more immediate
+certainty of Norman's innocence than even Anne herself could have--why
+had the brother and sister done nothing to remove this stain? She could
+only account for it by supposing them paralysed with fear--terrified to
+risk the present security of those so dear to them, for any uncertainty
+even of complete acquittal--and afraid of making any exertion, lest the
+eyes of curiosity should be turned upon them.
+
+The Forth lay vast in silvery silence, breathing long sighs along its
+sands. Opposite swelling soft and full, in the spiritual dimness of the
+spring night, rose the fair lands of Fife. Still and solemn in its
+saintly evening rest, lay the beautiful earth everywhere. Only awake and
+watching, under dusky roofs, and in dim chambers, were the hoping,
+toiling, wrestling souls of men, nobler and of mightier destiny, than
+even the beautiful earth.
+
+The next morning, when she entered the sunny little parlor, Anne found
+Jacky rearranging, according to her own ideas of elegance, the breakfast
+equipage, which Miss Crankie's energetic little servant had already
+placed upon the table. Anne smiled, and felt almost uncomfortable, as
+she observed the solitary cup and saucer on the table--the single
+plate--the minute teapot.--After all, this living alone, had something
+very strange in it.
+
+Jacky seemed to think so too: she filled out Anne's cup of tea, and
+lingered about the back of her chair.
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne--"
+
+"Well, Jacky?"
+
+"If ye please," said Jacky, hesitating, "do ye ken wha little Miss Lilie
+is?"
+
+Anne started and turned round in alarm--was this strange, dark maid of
+her's really an elfin, after all?
+
+"No, Jacky," she said. "Why do you ask?"
+
+"Because--it's no forwardness, Miss Anne," murmured Jacky, hanging down
+her head.
+
+"I know that, Jacky--because what?"
+
+"Because, Miss Anne," said Jacky, emboldened, "I saw a lady down on the
+sands. She was standing close by the bushes at yon dark house, and her
+e'en were travelling ower the water, and her face was white--I will aye
+mind it--and--"
+
+"And what?"
+
+"It was her that brought little Lilie to the Mill. I saw her once by
+Oranside at night; and she was on our side of the water; and she was
+looking across at Merkland."
+
+"Was Lilie with her then, Jacky?"
+
+"No, Miss Anne; but I saw her after, leading Lilie by the hand, and then
+she was on the Merkland side, where Esther Fleming lives; and she was
+walking about, canny and soft, as if she wanted to see in."
+
+"And are you sure it is the same lady, Jacky?" said Anne.
+
+"I ken, Miss Anne," said Jacky, eagerly; "because there's no twa faces
+like yon in a' the world; and, Miss Anne, do ye mind Lilie's e'en?"
+
+"Yes, Jacky."
+
+Anne did recollect them--and how dark and full their liquid depths were!
+
+"Because Lilie's e'en are the very same--only they're no sae woeful--and
+I kent the lady would be some friend, but Mrs. Melder said it couldna be
+her mother."
+
+Anne's heart swelled full. Could this little child be as near of
+kindred to herself as to Christian Lillie? Her mind was overflowing with
+this. She forgot that Jacky lingered.
+
+"And, if ye please, Miss Anne--"
+
+Anne again turned round to listen.
+
+"She was looking away ower the water, and leaning on the hedge--maybe
+she lives yonder--and Miss Anne--"
+
+"What is it, Jacky?"
+
+Jacky drew near and spoke very low:
+
+"Do you mind the sang, Miss Anne, that Miss Alice sang on the New-year's
+night, when Mr. Archibald came home to the Tower?"
+
+Anne started.
+
+"The lady was saying it to hersel very low--the way Lilie sings her
+strange music."
+
+"What did she say, Jacky?"
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne, it was a short verse--it was about seeing the
+stars rise upon the Oran. I can say't a'." And Jacky hung back, and
+blushed and hesitated.
+
+The connexion became clearer by every word. "The student lad" who wrote
+this ballad--could it be Patrick Lillie?
+
+"Was it last night you heard this, Jacky?"
+
+"No, Miss Anne, it was this morning very early. I wanted to see the
+sea," said Jacky, bashfully, "and I saw the sun rise. But I think the
+lady wasna heeding for the sea. She wasna there at a'. She was in her
+ain spirit."
+
+"And you are sure you are not mistaken, Jacky?" said Anne.
+
+"Miss Anne!" exclaimed Jacky, "ye would ken yourself, if you saw her.
+Its just Lilie's e'en--only they are far, far deeper and sadder, and aye
+searching and travelling, as if something was lost that they bid to
+find, and were seeking for night and day."
+
+"That they bid to find!" The words roused Anne. "Did you mention this to
+any one?" she asked.
+
+Jacky looked injured--an imputation on her honor she could not bear.
+
+"I never tell things, Miss Anne. I'm no a talepyet."
+
+"Well, Jacky, remember that I trust you. I have heard that this lady has
+had great sorrow; and she has some good reason, no doubt, for not
+keeping Lilie beside her. Mind, you must never mention this to any
+one--not to Bessie--not even to your mother, when we return. No one
+knows it, but you and me. I am sure I can trust you, Jacky."
+
+Jacky gave a faithful promise, and went away with secret and proud
+dignity. She also had entered upon the search--she had begun to
+co-operate with Anne.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+
+Anne had fairly started upon her voyage of discovery. The beginning of
+it cost her many thoughts. She had half advanced to various peasant
+wives, whom she saw at cottage doors, screaming to unruly children, or
+out upon the universal "green," superintending their little
+bleaching--and had as often shrunk back, in painful timidity, which she
+blamed herself greatly for, but could not manage to overcome. It was
+quite different among the well-known cottages of Strathoran, though even
+with them, Anne would have felt visits of condescension or patronage
+unspeakably awkward and painful. Now this constitutional shyness must be
+overcome. Walking along the high road, a considerable way beyond the
+village of Aberford, she suddenly came upon a desolate mansion-house.
+The broken gate hung by the merest tag of hinge; the stone pillars were
+defaced and broken. What had formerly been ornamental grounds before the
+house, were a jungle of long grass, and uncouth brushwood. Bushes grown
+into unseemly straggling trees, beneath the shadow of which, thistles
+and nettles luxuriated, and plumes of unshorn grass waved rank and long,
+as if in the very triumph of neglect. The house-door hung as insecurely
+as the gate--the steps were mossy and cracked--the windows entirely
+shattered, and in some cases the very frames of them broken. Behind, the
+gardens lay in a like state of desolation. Here and there a cultivated
+flower, which had been hardy enough to cling to its native soil, marked
+among wild blossoms, and grass, and weeds, a place where care and
+culture had once been. Upon a mossed and uneven wall some fruit-trees
+clung, rich with blossoms: it had been an orchard once. In the midst of
+another waste and desolate division stood the broken pedestal of a
+sun-dial; a sloping wilderness ascended from it to the low windows of
+what seemed once to have been a drawing-room. A spell of neglect was
+over it all, less terrific than that still horror which a poet of our
+own time has thrown over his haunted house, but yet in the gay wealth
+and hopefulness of spring, striking chill and drearily upon the
+observer's eye. Anne examined it with curious interest; she could
+suspect what house it was.
+
+A little further on she came upon a cottage of better size and
+appearance than most, with a well-filled little garden before its door,
+and knots of old trees about it. It was the house of a "grieve," or farm
+overseer, a rising man in his humble circle, whose wife aimed at being
+genteel. She stood in the door, basking in the sun, with her youngest
+baby in her arms; the good woman had a multitude of babies; the latest
+dethroned one was tumbling about at her feet. Anne bent over the little
+gate to ask the name of the forlorn and desolate house she had just
+past.
+
+"Oh, that's Redheugh," said Mrs. Brock, the grieve's wife.
+
+Anne lingered, and held out her hand to the hardy little urchin
+scrambling in the garden. Mrs. Brock looked as if she would quite like
+to enter into conversation:
+
+"Be quiet, Geordie; ye'll dirty the lady's gloves."
+
+"No, no," said Anne, taking the small brown hand into her own. "I am
+very fond of children, and this is a fine, sturdy little fellow."
+
+"Ye'll be a stranger, I'm thinking?" said Mrs. Brock. "There's few folk
+in our parish that dinna ken Redheugh."
+
+"Yes," said Anne. "I am quite a stranger; what is the reason it lies so
+deserted and desolate?"
+
+"Ye'll be come to the sea-side?" pursued Mrs. Brock; "it's no often we
+have folk out frae Edinburgh sae early in the year. Is't no unco cauld
+for bathing?"
+
+"I should think it was," said Anne smiling, "but I have never, bathed
+yet."
+
+"It'll be just for the sea air?" continued Mrs. Brock. "Are ye bideing
+far frae here, Mem, if yin may ask?"
+
+"I am living a good way on the other side of Aberford," said Anne.
+
+"Oh, and ye have had a lang walk, and it's a warm day. Get out of the
+road, Geordie; will ye no come in and sit down? ye'll be the better for
+the rest?"
+
+Mrs. Brock, as we have before said, had an ambition to be genteel. Now
+Anne Ross with her very plain dress, and quite simple manners, was
+eminently ladylike, and might be a desirable acquaintance. Anne accepted
+the invitation, and setting the strong little urchin, whom his mother
+knocked about with so little delicacy, on his feet, she led him in with
+her.
+
+Mrs. Brock's parlor was a temple sacred to company, and holidays. Its
+burnished grate, and narrow mantlepiece, elaborately ornamented with
+foreign shells; brilliant peacock feathers waved gracefully over the
+gilded frame of the little square mirror; the carpet was resplendent in
+all the colors of the rainbow. There were sturdy mahogany chairs, and a
+capacious haircloth sofa--the two ends of a dining-table stood in the
+middle of the room, elaborated into the brightest polish--the center
+piece was placed against the wall, and decorated with a case of stuffed
+birds. Mrs. Brock paused at the door, and contemplated it all with
+infinite complacency. It was something to have so grand a place to
+exhibit to a stranger.
+
+"Take a seat on the sofa, Mem; ye'll be wearied wi' your lang walk.
+Geordie, ye little sinner, wad ye put your dirty shoon on the guid
+carpet? Get away wi' ye."
+
+Mrs. Brock bundled the little fellow unceremoniously out, and seated
+herself opposite her guest.
+
+"You have a fine view," said Anne.
+
+"Is't no beautiful? They tell me there's no a grander sight in the world
+than just the Firth and Fife. Yonder's the Lomonds, ye ken, and yon
+muckle hill, even over the water, that's Largo Law. My mother was a Fife
+woman--I have lived at Colinsbrugh mysel; and we can see baith Inchkeith
+and the May in a clear day, no to speak o' the Bass. We're uncommonly
+well situate here; it's a fine house altogether."
+
+"It seems so, indeed," said Anne.
+
+"Ye see the only ill thing about it is, that it's no our ain.--George
+was uncommon keen to have had the house the bairns were a' born in. He's
+an awfu' man for his bairns."
+
+"Very natural," said Anne.
+
+"Oh, ay, nae doubt it's natural, but it's no ilka body that has the
+thought; he wad have gien twa hunder pounds for the house; twa clear
+hunder--it's no worth that siller, ye ken, but it's just because we've
+been in't sae lang. But Miss Lillie wadna hear o't; it's no every day
+she could get an offer like that, and they canna be sae weel off as to
+throw away twa hunder pounds, ane would think."
+
+"Is this Miss Lillie's house?" said Anne.
+
+"Ay--ye'll ken Miss Lillie it's like?"
+
+"No," said Anne, "I do not know her, but I have heard her name."
+
+"There's bits of conveniences a' through it," said Mrs. Brock, "that had
+been putten up when they were bideing here themsels; and the garden
+behint. Miss Lillie beggit George to keep the flowers right, and he
+takes uncommon pains with them. He's a guid-hearted man, our George;
+ye'll no often meet wi' the like of him."
+
+"And that house of Redheugh," said Anne; "why is it so neglected and
+desolate?"
+
+"Eh, bless me!" said Mrs. Brock, "have ye no heard the story?"
+
+"What story?" said Anne.
+
+"Eh, woman!" exclaimed the grieve's wife, forgetting her good manners in
+astonishment. "Ye maun have been awfu' short time hereabout, if ye
+havena heard the story of the Laird o' Redheugh."
+
+"I only arrived yesterday," said Anne.
+
+"Weel, it's no ill to tell. The young gentleman that aught it killed a
+man and was drowned himsel when he was trying to escape: it's just as
+like the Book o' Jonah as anything out o' the Bible could be. There was
+a great storm, and the ship he was in sank; he couldna carry the guilt
+of the pluid over the sea. They say murder wouldna hide if ye could put
+a' the tokens o't beneath North Berwick Law. It made an awfu' noise in
+the countryside at the time, but it's no muckle thought o' now, only
+a'body kens what gars the house lie desolate. Folk say ye may see the
+gentleman that was killed, and Redheugh himsel in his dreeping claes,
+like as if he was new come up from the bottom of the sea, fighting and
+striving in the auld avenue--aye at midnight o' the night it was
+done--but _ye'll_ no believe the like o' that?"
+
+"No," said Anne vacantly; she did not know what she answered.
+
+"Weel, I never saw onything myself--but they say the spirit's ill to
+pacify, that's met wi' a violent death--and I wad just be as weel
+pleased no to put myself in the way. I have aye an eerie feeling when I
+pass the gate at night. After a' ye ken, there's naething certain about
+it in Scripture--maybe the dead can come back, maybe they canna--ane
+disna ken. I think it's aye best to keep out of the gait."
+
+"It is, no doubt, the most prudent way," said Anne, smiling.
+
+"Ye wad, maybe, like to see the garden, Miss--"
+
+Mrs. Brock was mightily anxious to know who her visitor was.
+
+"Ross," said Anne.
+
+"Weel, Miss Ross, I am sure ye'll be pleased wi' the garden--will ye
+come this way?"
+
+Anne followed. The garden was in trim order--well kept and gracefully
+arranged. Spring flowers, with their delicate hopeful fragrance and pale
+hues, were scattered through the borders. The blossom on the lilac
+bushes was already budded, and the hawthorn had here and there unfolded
+its first flowers.
+
+"But the simmer-house, Miss Ross," said Mrs. Brock.
+
+The summer-house was not one of the ordinary tea-garden abominations. It
+was a knoll of soft turf, the summit of which had been formed into a
+seat, with a narrow space of level greensward for its footstool. Over it
+was a light and graceful canopy, with flowering plants more delicate and
+rare, than are generally seen in cottage gardens, clustering thickly
+over it, while the foliage of some old trees, growing at the foot of the
+hillock, made a rich background. From its elevated seat, you could see
+the slopes of Fife lying fair below the sun, and the gallant Forth
+between.--Anne stood and gazed round her in silence. She could see the
+dark trees, and high roof of Redheugh at her other hand; how often might
+Norman, in his happy years long ago, have stood upon this spot? Yet here
+it shone in its fresh life and beauty, when all that remained of him,
+was dishonor and desolation!
+
+But there was in this a solemn, silent hope which struck Anne to the
+heart. Christian Lillie had entreated, as her tenant said, that these
+flowers should be carefully tended. Christian Lillie would not part with
+the house. Was she not looking forward, then, to some future
+vindication--to some home-coming of chastened joyfulness--to some final
+light, shedding the radiance of peace upon her evening time?
+
+Anne had to sit down in Mrs. Brock's parlor again, and suffer herself to
+be refreshed with a glass of gooseberry wine, not quite so delectable as
+Mrs. Primrose's immortal preparation, before she was permitted to
+depart. Mrs. Brock had another decanter upon her table, filled with a
+diabolical compound, strongly medicinal in taste and odor, which she
+called ginger wine, and which Anne prudently eschewed--and a plate of
+rich "short-bread," at which little Geordie, tumbling on the mat at the
+door, cast longing loving looks. Mrs. Brock hoped Miss Ross would come
+to see her again.
+
+"It's just a nice walk. Ye maun come and tak' a cup o' tea when George
+is in himsel. He's an uncommon weel-learned man, our George--he could
+tell ye a' the stories o' the countryside."
+
+Anne had to make a half promise that she would return to avail herself
+of the stores of George Brock's information, before his admiring wife
+released her.
+
+She had overcome her repugnance a little--it was a tolerable beginning
+so far as that went--but how dark, how hopeless seemed the prospect!
+There was no doubt in that confident expression--no benevolent hope that
+Norman might be guiltless! She had been told so long before, and had
+come to Aberford, in the face of that. Yet the repetition of it by so
+many indifferent strangers discouraged her sadly--her great expectation
+collapsed. Only a steady conviction in her brother's innocence, a solemn
+hope of vindication to him, living or dead, upheld her in her further
+way.
+
+In the evening she wandered out upon the sands. It was a still night,
+wrapped in the gray folds of a mistier gloaming, than she had before
+seen sinking over the brilliant Firth. Anne hovered about the enclosure
+of Schole. The dreary house had a magnetic attraction for her. She stood
+by the low gate, close to the water, and looked in. The high foliage of
+the hedge hid her--gate itself was the only loophole in the thick fence,
+which surrounded the house on all sides. There was light in the low
+projecting window, which dimly revealed a gloomy room, furnished with
+book shelves. At a sort of study table, placed in the recess of the
+window, there sat a man bending over a book. His face was illuminated by
+the candle beside him. A pale, delicate face it was, telling of a mind
+nervously susceptible, a spirit answering to every touch, with emotion
+so intense and fine, as to make the poetic temperament, not a source of
+strength and mighty impulse, as in hardier natures, but a well-spring of
+exquisite feebleness--a fountain of pensive blight and beauty. The snowy
+whiteness of his high, thin temples, the long silky fair hair upon his
+stooping head, heightened the impression of delicate grace and
+feebleness. He looked young, but had, in reality, seen nearly forty
+years of trouble and sorrow. His brow was almost covered by the long,
+thin white fingers that supported it. He was absorbed in his book.
+
+A strange resemblance to Christian Lillie was in the student's pale and
+contemplative face. There could be no doubt that he was her invalid
+brother--and yet how strangely unlike they were!
+
+Anne turned to pursue her walk along the dim sands. A faint ray of
+moonlight was stealing through the mist, silvering the water, and the
+long glistening line of its wet shores here and there. In the light, she
+caught a glimpse of a slow advancing figure. Fit place and time it was,
+for such a meeting--for the tall dark outline and slow step, could
+belong to but one person. Anne trembled, and felt her own step falter.
+They had never yet heard each other's voices, yet were connected by so
+close a tie--were wandering upon this solitary place, brooding over one
+great sorrow--perhaps tremulously embracing one solemn hope.
+
+When they met, she faltered some commonplace observation about the
+night. To her astonishment, Christian Lillie replied at once. It might
+be that she saw Anne's agitation--it might be that she also longed to
+know Norman's sister. That she knew her to be so, Anne could not doubt:
+her melancholy contemplation of Merkland--her evident start and
+surprise, when they formerly met upon the sands, made that certain.
+
+"Yes," said Christian Lillie, in a voice of singular sadness, "it is a
+beautiful night."
+
+The words were of the slightest--the tone and manner, the drawing in of
+that long breath, spoke powerfully. This, then, was her one
+pleasure--this gentle air of night was the balm of her wearied spirit.
+
+"The mist is clearing away," said Anne, tremulously. "Yonder lights on
+the Fife shore are clear now--do you see them?"
+
+"Ay, I see them," was the answer. "Cheerful and pleasant they look here.
+Who knows what weariness and misery--what vain hopes and sick hearts
+they may be lighting."
+
+"Let us not think so," said Anne, gently. "While we do not know that our
+hopes are vain we still have pleasure in them."
+
+"I have seen you more than once before," said Christian Lillie. "You are
+not, or your face is untrue, one to think of vain pleasure at an
+after-cost of pain. Hopes!--I knew what they were once--I know now what
+it is to feel the death of them: what think you of the vain toils that
+folk undergo for a hope? the struggle and the vigils, and the sickness
+of its deferring? I see light burning yonder through all the watches of
+the night--what can it be but the fever of some hope that keeps them
+always shining? I saw yours in your window last night, when everybody
+near was at rest but myself. What is it that keeps you wakeful but some
+hope?"
+
+"You know me then--you know what my hope is?" said Anne, eagerly.
+
+"No," said Christian. "Tell it not to me. I have that in me that blights
+hope--and the next thing after a blighted hope, is a broken heart. It is
+wonderful--God shield you, from the knowledge--how long a mortal body
+will hold by life after there is a broken heart within it! I think
+sometimes that it is only us who know how strong life is--not the
+hopeful and joyous, but us, who are condemned to bear the burden--us,
+who drag these days out as a slave drags a chain."
+
+"Do not say so," said Anne. Her companion spoke with the utmost
+calmness--there was a blank composure about her, which told more
+powerfully even than her words, the death of hope.--"There can be no
+life, however sorrowful, that has not an aim--an expectation."
+
+"An aim?--ay, an aim! If you knew what you said you would know what a
+solemn and sacred thing it is that has stood in my path, these seventeen
+years, the ending of my travail--an expectation! What think you of
+looking forward all that time, as your one aim and expectation--almost,
+God help us, as your hope--for a thing which you knew would rend your
+very heart, and make your life a desert when it came--what think ye of
+that? There are more agonies in this world than men dream of in their
+philosophy."
+
+"Are we not friends?" said Anne. "Have we not an equal share in a great
+sorrow that is past--I trust and hope in a great joy that is to come?
+Will you not take my sympathy?--my assistance?"
+
+Christian Lillie shrank, as Anne thought, from her offered hand.
+
+"An equal share--an equal share. God keep you from that--but it becomes
+you well: turn round to the light, and let me see your face."
+
+She laid her hand on Anne's shoulder, and, turning her round, gazed upon
+her earnestly.
+
+"Like--and yet unlike," she murmured. "You are the only child of your
+mother? she left none but you?"
+
+"Except--"
+
+"Hush, what would you say?" said Christian, hurriedly.--"And you would
+offer me sympathy and help? Alas! that I cannot take it at your, hands.
+You have opened a fountain in this withered heart, that I thought no
+hand in this world could touch but one. It is a good deed--you will get
+a blessing for it--now, fare you well."
+
+"Shall I not see you again?" said Anne.
+
+Christian hesitated.
+
+"I do not know--why should you? you can get nothing but blight and
+disappointment from me, and yet--for once--you may come to me at
+night--not to-morrow night, but the next. I will wait for you at the
+little gate; and now go home and take rest--is it not enough that one
+should be constantly watching? Fare you well."
+
+Before Anne could answer, the tall, dark, gliding figure was
+away--moving along with noiseless footstep over the sands to the gate of
+Schole. She proceeded on herself, in wonder and agitation--how shallow
+was her concern for Norman in comparison with this; how slight her
+prospect of success when this earnest woman, whose words had such a tone
+of power in them, even in the deepness of her grief, declared that in
+her all hope was dead. It was a blow to all her expectations--nevertheless
+it did not strike her in that light. Her anticipation of the promised
+interview, her wonder at what had passed in this, obliterated the
+discouraging impression. She was too deeply interested in what she
+had seen and heard, to think of the stamp of hopelessness which these
+despairing words set on her own exertions. That night she transferred
+her lights early from her little sitting-room to the bed-chamber
+behind. That was a small matter, if it gave any satisfaction to the
+melancholy woman, the light from whose high chamber window she could
+see reflected on the gleaming water, after Miss Crankie's little
+household had been long hours at rest.
+
+The next day was a feverish day to Anne, and so was the succeeding one.
+She took long walks to fill up the tardy time, and made acquaintance
+with various little sunbrowned rustics, and cottage mothers; but gained
+from them not the veriest scrap of information about Norman, beyond what
+she already knew--that he had killed a man, and had been drowned in his
+flight from justice--that now the property, as they thought, was in the
+king's hands, "and him having sae muckle," as one honest woman
+suggested, "he didna ken weel what to do wi't. Walth gars wit
+wavor--It's a shame to fash him, honest man, wi' mair land that he can
+make ony use o'--it would have been wiser like to have parted it among
+the puir folk."
+
+On the afternoon of the day on which she was to see Christian Lillie
+again, Anne lost herself in the unknown lanes of Aberford. After long
+wandering she came to the banks of a little inland water, whose quiet,
+wooded pathway was a great relief to her, after the dust and heat of
+the roads. She stayed for a few minutes to rest herself; upon one hand
+lay a wood stretching darkly down as she fancied to the sea. She was
+standing on its outskirts where the foliage thinned, yet still was
+abundant enough to shade and darken the narrow water; a little further
+on, the opposite bank swelled gently upward in fields, cultivated to the
+streamlet's edge--but the side on which she herself stood, was richly
+wooded along all its course, and matted with a thick undergrowth of
+climbing plants and shrubs and windsown seedlings. The path wound at
+some little distance from the waterside through pleasant groups of
+trees. Anne paused, hesitating and undecided, not knowing which way to
+turn. A loud and cheerful whistle sounded behind her, and looking back,
+she saw a ruddy country lad, of some sixteen or seventeen years,
+trudging blythely along the pathway; she stopped him to ask the way.
+
+"Ye just gang straight forenent ye," said the lad, "even on, taking the
+brig at Balwithry, and hauding round by the linn in Mavisshaw. Ye canna
+weel gang wrang, unless ye take the road that rins along the howe of the
+brae to the Milton, and it's fickle to ken which o' them is the right
+yin, if ye're no acquaint."
+
+"I am quite a stranger," said Anne.
+
+"I'm gaun to the Milton mysel," said the youth. "I'll let ye see the way
+that far, and then set ye on to the road."
+
+Anne thanked him, and walked on briskly with her blythe conductor, who
+stayed his whistling, and dropped a step or two behind, in honor of the
+lady. He was very loquacious and communicative.
+
+"I'm gaun hame to see my mother. My father was a hind on the Milton
+farm, and my mother is aye loot keep the house, now that she's a
+widow-woman. I've been biding wi' my uncle at Dunbar. He's a shoemaker,
+and he wanted to bind me to his trade."
+
+"And will you like that?" said Anne.
+
+"Eh no--I wadna stand it; I aye made up my mind to be a ploughman like
+my father before me; sae my uncle spoke for me to the grieve at Fantasie
+and I'm hired to gang hame at the term. So I cam the noo to see my
+mother."
+
+"Have you had a long walk?" said Anne.
+
+"It's twal mile--it was eleven o'clock when I started--I didna ken what
+hour it is noo. It should be three by the sun." Anne consulted her
+watch; it was just three; the respect of her guide visibly
+increased--gold watches were notable things in Aberford.
+
+"I thought yince of starting at night. Eh! if I had been passing in the
+dark, wadna I hae been frighted to see a leddy thonder."
+
+"Why yonder?" said Anne, "is there anything particular about that
+place?"
+
+"Eh!" exclaimed the lad, "do ye no ken? there was a man killed at the
+fit of thon tree."
+
+Anne started. "Who was he?" she asked.
+
+"I dinna mind his name--it's lang, lang ago--but he was a gentleman, and
+my father was yin 'o the witnesses. Maybe ye'll have seen a muckle
+house, ower there, a' disjasket and broken down. George Brock, the
+grieve lives near the gate o't--it's no far off."
+
+"Yes, I have seen it," said Anne.
+
+"Weel, the gentleman that killed him lived there--at least a'body said
+it was him that did it--I have heard my father speak about him mony a
+time."
+
+"And what was your father a witness of?" said Anne.
+
+"Oh, he met Redheugh coming out of the wood--only my father aye thought
+that he bid to be innocent, for he was singing, and smiling, and as
+blythe as could be."
+
+"And your father thought him innocent?" said Anne eagerly.
+
+"Ay--at least he thought it was awfu' funny, if he had killed the man,
+that he should be looking sae blythe. A' the folk say there was nae
+doubt about it, and sae does my mother, but my father was aye in a
+swither; he thought it couldna be. Here's the Milton, and ower yonder,
+ye see, like a white line--yon's the road--it's just the stour that
+makes it white; and if ye turn to the right, and haud even on, ye'll
+come to the toun."
+
+Anne thanked him, and offered some small acknowledgment, with which the
+lad, though he took it reluctantly, and with many scruples, went away,
+whistling more blythely than ever. How little did the youthful rustic
+imagine the comfort and hope and exhilaration which these thoughtless
+words of his had revived in his chance companion's heart!
+
+There had been one in this little world, who, in the midst of
+excitement, and in the face of evidence, and the universal opinion of
+his fellows, held Norman innocent. Anne thanked God, and took
+courage--there was yet hope.
+
+She waited nervously for the evening; when the darkness of the full
+night came stealing on, she glided along the sands to the gate of
+Schole.
+
+The projecting window was dark; there seemed to be no light in the whole
+house. She looked over the gate anxiously for Christian--no one was
+visible--dark ever-green shrubs looking dead and stern among the gay
+spring verdure, stood out in ghostly dimness along the garden; the house
+looked even more gloomy and dismal than heretofore, and the night was
+advancing.
+
+Anne tried the gate; it opened freely. She went lightly along the
+mossed and neglected path to the principal door. It was evidently
+unused, and in grim security barred the entrance; she passed the
+projecting window again, and with some difficulty found a door at the
+side of the house, at which she knocked lightly.
+
+There was evidently some slight stir within; she thought she could hear
+a sound as of some one listening. She knocked again--there was no
+response--she repeated her summons more loudly; there was nothing
+clandestine in her visit to Christian.
+
+She fancied she could hear steps ascending a stair, and echoing with a
+dull and hollow sound through the house. Presently a window above was
+opened, and the face of an old woman, buried in the immense borders of a
+white night-cap, looked out:
+
+"Eh! guid preserve us. Wha are ye, disturbing honest folk at this hour
+o' the night; and what do ye want?"
+
+"Is Miss Lillie not within?" said Anne in disappointment.
+
+"Miss Lillie! muckle you're heeding about Miss Lillie; its naething but
+an excuse for theftdom and spoliation; but I warn ye, ye'll get naething
+here. Do ye ken there's an alarm-bell in Schole?"
+
+"I am alone," said Anne, "and have merely come to see Miss Lillie, I
+assure you. You see I could do you no injury."
+
+"And how div I ken," said the cautious portress a little more gently,
+"that ye havena a band at the ither side of the hedge?"
+
+"You can see over the hedge," said Anne, smiling in spite of her
+impatience, "that I am quite alone. Pray ask Miss Lillie to admit me;
+she will tell you that I came by her own appointment.
+
+"A bonnie like hour for leddies to be visiting at," said the old woman;
+"and how div ye ken that Miss Lillie will come at my ca'?"
+
+"Pray do not keep me waiting," said Anne, "it is getting late. Tell Miss
+Lillie that I am here."
+
+"And if I were gaun to tell Miss Lillie ye were here, wha would take
+care o' the house, I wad like to ken? Ye're no gaun to pit your gowk's
+errands on me. If I had the loudest vice in a' Scotland, it wadna reach
+Miss Lillie, an I cried till I was hoarse."
+
+"You don't mean to say," exclaimed Anne, "that she is not at home!--that
+Miss Lillie has left Schole?"
+
+"Ay, deed div I--nothing less. Mr. Patrick and her gaed away last night'
+to see their friends in the west country. Is that a'? If ye had a hoast
+like me, and were as muckle fashed wi' your breath, ye wadna have keeped
+your head out of the window sae long as I have done."
+
+"Did she leave no word?" said Anne, "no message--or did she say when she
+would return?"
+
+"Neither the tane nor the tither: she never said a word to me, but that
+they were gaun to the west country to see their friends. What for should
+they no? They are as free to do their ain pleasure as ither folk."
+
+Anne turned away, greatly disappointed and bewildered.
+
+"Be sure you sneck the gate," screamed the careful guardian of Schole,
+"and draw the stane close till't that ye pushed away wi' your fit."
+
+Anne obeyed, and proceeded homeward very much downcast and disappointed.
+She had expected so much from this interview, and had looked forward to
+it so anxiously. Why should they avoid her? For what reason should the
+nearest relatives of Norman's wife, flee from Norman's sister? She
+herself had hailed, with feelings so warmly and sadly affectionate, the
+idea of their existence and sympathy--perhaps of their co-operation and
+help. Now Christian's words returned to her mind in sad perplexity. She
+could find no clue to them. The house of Schole looked more dreary and
+dismal than ever. She felt a void as she looked back to it, and knew
+that the watcher, whose light had fallen upon the still waters of the
+Firth through all the lingering night, was there no longer. She left her
+watch at the window early, and, with a feeling of blank disappointment
+and loneliness, laid herself down to her disturbed and dreaming
+rest--very sad, and disconsolate, and unsettled--seeing no clear
+prospect before her, nor plan of operation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+
+The bright weeks of May stole on rapidly, and Anne had made no advance
+in her search. Little Alice Aytoun, when she came to visit her, clung
+round her neck anxiously, lifting up beseeching eyes to her face, but
+Anne had no word of hopeful answer to give. Her own heart was sinking
+day by day; the window of Patrick Lillie's study was still shut up and
+dark; the old servant whom they had left behind them could give no
+information as to their return. Anne was compelled to confess to herself
+that her plan had failed--that except for her dim and mysterious
+knowledge of these singular Lillies, she had not made a single step of
+progress.
+
+Then Lewis wrote letters, slightly querulous, requiring her presence at
+home--and Mrs. Catherine sent one characteristic note promising, "if ye
+will be a good bairn and come back, maybe to go with ye myself, when the
+weather is more suiting for the seaside." She was doing no good in
+Aberford; so with a heavy heart Anne returned home.
+
+The first day after her arrival at Merkland, she visited the Mill. With
+what strange feelings swelling in her heart did she draw the child to
+her side, and take into her own its small soft hand. The little strange
+exotic Lilie, the wonder of the quiet parish--was she indeed a Lilias
+Rutherford?--a daughter of the banished Norman?--her own nearest kin and
+relative?
+
+"Jacky Morison's been up this morning already, Miss Anne," said Mrs.
+Melder. "Indeed, and ye may think muckle o' yoursel, Lilie my
+woman--baith leddy and maid comin anceerrant to see ye, the first thing
+after their home-coming. She's an awfu' strange lassie yon, Miss Anne;
+ane would think she had gotten some word o' the bairn that naebody else
+kens. She was aye unco fond o' her, but now it's _Miss_ Lilie every
+word."
+
+Strange indeed! these intuitive perceptions of Jacky's puzzled Anne
+greatly.
+
+"That was what they called Lilie at home," said the child thoughtfully.
+
+"Ay, listen till her; I dinna misdoubt it, Miss Anne--the folk that sent
+a' yon bonnie things, maun be weel off in this world."
+
+"Will you come and walk with me, Lilie?" said Anne: "see what a
+beautiful day it is."
+
+The child assented eagerly, and trying on her bonnet, Anne led her out.
+They went to the foot of the tree on which were carved the names of
+those two exiles--Norman and Marion. It was a fit resting-place for
+their sister and their child. Anne seated herself on the turf, and
+placed Lilie by her side.
+
+"Can you tell me where your home is, Lilie?"
+
+"Away yonder," said Lilie, "far away, over the sea."
+
+"And what like is it?" said Anne, "do you remember?"
+
+"A bonnie, bonnie place--where there's brighter light and warmer days;
+and grand flowers far bigger than any in Strathoran; but its lang, lang
+to sail, and whiles there were loud winds and storms, and Lilie wasna
+weel."
+
+"Would you like to go home, Lilie?" said Anne.
+
+"I would like to go to mamma. I would like to go to my own mamma;
+but--mamma doesna call yon place home."
+
+"What does she call it, Lilie?"
+
+"When mamma was putting Lilie into the big ship, she said Lilie was
+coming home; and maybe she would come hersel for Lilie."
+
+"And how did she look when she said that?" said Anne.
+
+The child began to cry.
+
+"She put down her head--my mamma's bonnie head--down into her hands,
+this way; and then she began to greet, like me--oh, my mamma!"
+
+Anne drew the little girl's head into her lap, and wiped away the tears.
+"You would be very glad to see mamma, Lilie, if she came here? she will
+come perhaps some day."
+
+"Do you ken my mamma?" said Lilie eagerly. "Did she tell you she was
+coming?"
+
+"No," said Anne, "but when she comes, you will take my hand, and say,
+'Mamma, this is my friend;' will you not, and introduce me to her?"
+
+The child looked brightly up:
+
+"Eh, Lilie will be blythe! blythe!--but if mamma were coming, what would
+Lilie call you?"
+
+"You would call me aunt," said Anne, her eyes filling as she looked upon
+the little face lying on her knee. "Your Aunt Anne that found you out,
+when you came a little stranger to the Mill."
+
+Lilie rose to wind her small arms round Anne's neck.
+
+"But you're no Lilie's aunt--I wish you were Lilie's aunt--then you
+would take me to live at Merkland."
+
+"Would you like to live at Merkland, Lilie?"
+
+"Whiles," said the child; "no in bonnie days like this, but
+whiles--Jacky says I'm a lady--am I a lady?"
+
+"Not till you are old, like me; you will be a lady then."
+
+"But Jacky says I'm a _young_ lady," reiterated Lilie; "does Jacky no
+ken?"
+
+"We will ask mamma when she comes," said Anne.
+
+The little face became radiant:
+
+"Eh! when mamma comes!--will you be glad too, like Lilie?--and will they
+a' be there? Papa and Lawrie? What way do you put your head down? then
+your eyelashes come upon your cheek, and then you grow like--"
+
+"Like whom, Lilie?"
+
+"My papa. If mamma comes, will they a' come--papa and Lawrie?"
+
+"Who is Lawrie, Lilie?" The name was a still further corroboration;
+there was something touching in the exile calling his son by his
+father's name.
+
+"Lilie's brother. He is near as tall as you, and he's like papa."
+
+"And you think I am like papa," said Anne, tremulously.
+
+"Whiles, when you hold down your head, and look sad."
+
+"Does papa look sad?"
+
+"No," said Lilie, "but when you look as if you would greet, then you
+grow like him; and Lawrie never greets, and yet he's like him, too. What
+way is that?"
+
+"And do they call you Miss Lilie at home?" said Anne, at once to evade
+the difficult question submitted to her, and to ascertain something of
+the worldly comforts of her banished brother. Mrs. Melder's guess was no
+doubt correct: the box which had been sent to Lilie could come from no
+_poor_ house.
+
+"No papa, or mamma, or Lawrie, but the maids and English John, and
+Jose--for papa's no like Robert Melder; he's a rich gentleman."
+
+"And why did they send you here?" exclaimed Anne, more as expressing her
+own astonishment, than addressing the child.
+
+"Lilie was very ill--had to lie in her bed--mamma thought I would die,
+and it was to get strong again. See," Lilie disengaged herself from
+Anne, and ran away along the bank of the Oran, returning ruddy and
+breathless, "Lilie's strong now."
+
+"And why did you not tell me this before?" said Anne.
+
+"Lilie didna mind--Lilie didna ken how to speak;" and the child looked
+confused and bewildered. By means of her broken sentences, however, Anne
+made out that Lilie had been brought home by a Juana, a Spanish nurse,
+and had been accustomed to hear the servants in her father's house speak
+the liquid foreign tongue, which she was already beginning to forget.
+That being suddenly brought into the rustic Scottish dwelling, and
+seeing, with the quick perception of a child, that its inhabitants were
+of the same rank as her former attendants, the child had naturally
+fancied that their language must also be, not the cultivated English,
+the speaking of which was an accomplishment, but the more ornate tongue
+which she had been accustomed to hear among their equals in her own
+country. Then Mrs. Melder's dialect still further puzzled the lonely
+child, who, under the care of Juana, had spoken nothing but Spanish
+during the voyage, which she thought so long a one, so that the ideas of
+the little head became quite perplexed and ravelled; and it was not
+until she had mastered in a considerable degree this new Scottish
+tongue, that the more refined words learned from "mamma" began to steal
+once more into her childish memory.
+
+But Anne's attempted questioning, respecting the person who brought
+Lilie to the Mill, produced no satisfactory answer. The remembrance had
+become hazy already; and save for a general impression of
+discomfort--one of those vague indefinite times of childish suffering
+and unhappiness, which are by no means either light or trivial,
+howsoever we may think of them, when we are involved in more mature
+calamities, Lilie's memory failed her. She could give no account of the
+interim, between her voyage under the government of Juana, and her
+transference to the rule of Mrs. Melder.
+
+To Mrs. Catherine, Anne had said little of the Lilies--to Lewis nothing.
+Their connexion with Norman had nothing to do with the proof of his
+innocence, and though Christian Lilie's strange words had occupied her
+own mind night and day since she heard them, she yet did not think it
+either necessary or prudent to make them a matter of conversation.
+
+Again, she remained in so much doubt about this singular brother and
+sister--their strange seclusion, and grief, and inactivity--their
+mysterious and abrupt removal, which evidently was to avoid meeting her,
+perplexed herself so much that she did not venture to confide even in
+Mrs. Catherine. She brooded over her secret by herself; she slept
+little--rested little--took long, solitary, meditative walks, and much
+exercise, and felt herself more than ever abstracted from the busy
+little world about her. She was becoming a solitary, cheerless woman,
+cherishing in silent sadness one great hope; a hope with which strangers
+might not intermeddle--which was foolishness to her own nearest
+friends--which might never be realized upon this earth--nevertheless a
+hope in which her whole nature was concentrated--the very essence and
+aim of her being.
+
+She did not even reveal to Mrs. Catherine her suspicion her hope, that
+Lilie was the child of her banished brother. She cherished it in her own
+mind as a secret strength and comfort. She endeavored in all gentle ways
+to supply the want of the mother after whom the little heart yearned,
+and she was successful. Lilie began to call her aunt--to watch in
+childish anxiety for her daily visits--to wander about anywhere,
+unwearied and joyous, so long as Anne was leading her, and to look to
+her at all times as her dearest friend and protector. Then these
+childish confidences--these snatches, of dear remembrance of the
+far-away mamma--these glances into the household of the exile! Anne drew
+new invigoration, strength, and hope from these, in the darkest time of
+her depression.
+
+Yet all endeavors for her great end were stayed--no one lifted a hand in
+the cause of the injured man--no one made any exertion to deliver him.
+In the bright sunshine of that leafy month of June her heart sickened
+within her. She longed to return again to the place where something
+might be done, where with a prospect of success, or without it, she
+might still labor; she might still engage in the search.
+
+In the meantime, everything went on peaceably in the parish of
+Strathoran. Jeanie Coulter and Walter Foreman had made up their mind,
+and were speedily to be married. Ada Mina, in the glory of being
+bridesmaid and bride's sister, had almost forgotten Giles Sympelton.
+Marjory Falconer was very remarkably quiet; she was "beginning to
+settle." Mrs. Bairnsfather said, maliciously, "and it was high time."
+Mr. Ferguson's work was advancing in the bleak lands of Lochend and
+Loelyin. Mr. Coulter and he were very busy, and in high spirits. Lord
+Gillravidge had left Strathoran. The fair country, in the height of its
+summer beauty, had no attractions for Lord Gillravidge. There was no
+game to slaughter, and other kind of excitement, the quiet Norland
+parish had never possessed any.
+
+Mr. Fitzherbert was left behind; he was now lord paramount at
+Strathoran, and a very great man, intensely detested by the Macalpines
+of Oranmore, and spoken of with bitter derision and disdain by all the
+other inhabitants of Strathoran. He had displeased Lord Gillravidge by
+being the occasion of Giles Sympelton's desertion, and was left behind
+half as a punishment for that offence, and half as a promotion for
+counter-balancing good offices. Mr. Fitzherbert's feelings concerning it
+were of the same mixed description. He was immensely bored with the
+intolerable weariness of the country, while at the same time he enjoyed
+his temporary lordship, and ordered and stormed magnificently in the
+desecrated house of the Sutherlands.
+
+We should not have intruded ourselves into his disagreeable presence had
+that been all. But Mr. Fitzherbert in his dreariness, when he had
+exercised his petty despotism to its full extent--had cursed the
+servants, bullied Mr. Whittret, and asserted his predominance in various
+other pleasant and edifying ways--was forced to invent further amusement
+for himself. Surely, there never was an unhappy individual with small
+brains and a craving for excitement more miserably placed.
+
+It chanced one day that Flora Macalpine, Mrs. Ferguson's very pretty and
+very bashful nurserymaid, unwarily entered the contested by-way, while
+walking with the Woodsmuir children. Mr. Fitzherbert met her there, and
+the first harsh sound of his command to leave the road, was very much
+less disagreeable than the softening of tone which followed. Mr.
+Fitzherbert began to admire the pretty Highland girl, and to venture to
+express to her his admiration--to her, a Macalpine! Flora hurried from
+the by-way with her charge, in burning shame and indignation.
+
+But Mr. Fitzherbert was not to be got rid of so easily. Flora did not
+know the might of _ennui_ which made him seek out her quiet walks, and
+waylay her so perseveringly. She avoided him in every possible way; but
+still he found means to persecute her with his odious flattery and
+attentions. Flora was engaged, moreover, and tall Angus Macalpine, her
+handsome bride-groom elect, and Duncan Roy, her brother, were equally
+irate, and equally contented to have a decided personal plea for
+punishing the obnoxious jackal of Lord Gillravidge. So Flora reluctantly
+suffered herself to be made a party in a plan, which should ensnare her
+tormentor, and pour out upon him, in full flood, the rage and contempt
+of the Macalpines.
+
+It was a beautiful evening in June: Mr. Fitzherbert had just received
+from Lord Gillravidge the much wished-for call to London.
+
+In great glee he put the letter in his pocket, took his hat, and sallied
+out. His splendid hair, his magnificent whiskers and moustache were in
+the most superlative order. Flora Macalpine had intimated to him
+bashfully that she would be in the contested by-way, near the
+stepping-stones, at seven o'clock; it is always pleasant to be
+victorious. Mr. Fitzherbert had no doubt that the power of his
+fascinations had smitten the simple cottager, and accordingly in perfect
+good-humor with himself, and very much disposed to accept Flora's
+homage, with the utmost condescension, he set out for the
+stepping-stones.
+
+Close by the trysting place, in the slanting June sunlight, screening
+himself with the thick foliage of a "bourtree-bush," stood tall Angus
+Macalpine watching for his prey. Flora, nervous and trembling, stood
+beside him; she felt she was very much out of place, and did not at all
+like her position, but that strong, thickset little brother of hers,
+Duncan Roy, was squatting at her feet, concealing the flaming red head,
+which might have alarmed their victim, among the surrounding leaves, and
+Angus, bending down his handsome head with its curling fair hair, and
+healthful, good-looking face, was very carefully supporting her, and
+guarding against her running away. So, after all, there was nothing
+improper in it, and she could not help herself. The idea of the
+compulsion comforted Flora.
+
+Footsteps approached by-and-by. It was not Mr. Fitzherbert. It was
+George, the Falcon's Craig groom, and Johnnie Halflin, to whom Duncan
+Roy had communicated some hint of his intention. The punishment was far
+too just, the fun far too good, for these mischief-loving lads to let it
+slip. They had come to assist the Macalpines. George was making horrible
+faces. His veins were perfectly swoln with the might of his suppressed
+laughter. Johnnie had a little pink pocket-handkerchief--a keepsake from
+Bessie--thrust bodily into his capacious mouth. The Macalpines were
+graver; a quiet glee was shooting from the eyes of Duncan Roy, and Angus
+sometimes smiled--but the smile was an angry one.
+
+"But, Angus," whispered Flora; "mind, you maun promise that you'll no
+hurt him?"
+
+"I'll try," was the emphatic response.
+
+"Eh! but Duncan--Angus! Dinna hurt him, for ony sake.--Just fear him, or
+I'll rin away this moment."
+
+It was easier said than done. That mighty arm of Angus Macalpine's might
+have restrained a man of his own inches without any particular strain.
+
+"We'll no hurt him, Flora," said Duncan encouragingly,--"We'll only
+douk him, forbye--Listen! There he is--in behint the bush, lads. Angus,
+let Flora go."
+
+It was indeed Fitzherbert. They could hear his swaggering step as he
+advanced, whistling gaily.
+
+"I'll whistle ye!" exclaimed the angry Angus, in a strong undertone. "If
+ye were ance in my hands, my lad, ye'll whistle or ye get out again!"
+
+Flora had only time to speak another earnest remonstrance, when her
+admirer appeared.
+
+The ambush had been skilfully contrived. The unsuspected Fitzherbert
+advanced gaily. Poor Flora trembled and shrank back--the instinctive
+delicacy of her simple womanly nature overpowering her with shame. To
+meet this odious man at all, if it were but for a second, was a disgrace
+to her, even though Angus and Duncan were waiting at her side.
+
+Mr. Fitzherbert began a gallant speech--he attempted to take Flora's
+hand. The girl shrank back to the shelter of the bourtree-bush--and in
+another moment, Fitzherbert was struggling in the stalwart arms of Angus
+Macalpine--an embrace as unexpected as it was overpowering.
+
+"Haud the ill tongue of ye!" exclaimed Duncan Roy, as he seized the
+struggling legs of the unhappy adventurer, and held him fast. "If ye say
+another word, ye shall rue it a' your days."
+
+"Do you want to rob me?" cried Fitzherbert. "I haven't my purse on me,
+good fellows. Let me go, or you shall suffer for it."
+
+"Rob ye!" Tall Angus Macalpine seized his collar with an exclamation of
+disgust, and shook him violently. "Rob ye! Ye pitiful animal, wha would
+file their fingers with your filthy siller! Duncan, give me the plaid."
+
+The other two auxiliaries were standing by expending their pent-up
+laughter, Johnnie Halflin bestirred himself now, to hand to Angus one of
+the plaids that lay on the grass beside him.
+
+Threats, entreaties, vociferation, rage, all were in vain. The plaid was
+bound tightly round the unhappy Fitzherbert, strapping his arms to his
+side. Then Duncan confined in like manner his struggling feet. Then they
+laid him down on the grass.
+
+"Hushaba!" sung Johnnie Halflin as, with laughter not to be suppressed,
+they viewed the ludicrous bondage of their foe. "Eh, man, ye're a muckle
+baby to lie there, and do naething but squeal."
+
+"What gars ye no fight wi' your neives, like a man?" cried George.
+
+"Do you no see? He's putting a' his strength into the feet of him. See,
+woman Flora, he's walopping like the fishes in the Portoran boats when
+they're new catched. _He's_ new catched, too. Gie him a taste o' the
+water."
+
+"If ye had dune what ye had to do against us, like a man," said Angus
+Macalpine, solemnly, addressing the miserable captive, who lay prone
+before these shafts of rustic wit, upon the grass at their feet, "we
+might have throoshen ye like a man, and gi'en ye fair play; but because
+ye're a vermin that have creeped in to quiet places, where there was nae
+man to chastise ye--and because ye have tried to breathe your ill breath
+into the purest heart in a' Strathoran, ye shall hae only a vermin's
+punishment. Duncan, ye can get your shears. I'll haud the sheep."
+
+Duncan advanced in grim mirth, holding a pair of mighty shears. Angus
+knelt down upon the grass, and held Fitzherbert with his arm. The
+operation commenced. The punishment was the bitterest they could have
+chosen. Duncan Roy squatting at his side, with methodic composure and
+malicious glee, began to clip, and cut away, in jagged and uneven bits,
+his cherished whiskers, his beautiful moustache, his magnificent hair.
+The victim roared and groaned, entreated and threatened, in vain--the
+relentless operators proceeded in their work--the scissors entered into
+his soul.
+
+A light, quick step came suddenly along the path. They did not hear it,
+so overwhelming was the laughter of the lookers-on, till Marjory
+Falconer stood in the midst of them. Duncan's scissors suddenly ceased.
+The victim looked up in momentary hope, and again shrank back
+despairing. He by no means desired to throw himself upon the tender
+mercies of Miss Falconer.
+
+"What is the matter?" cried Marjory. "Flora, are you here! What is the
+matter? what are they about?"
+
+"Oh! Miss Falconer," exclaimed Flora who, between shame and laughter,
+was now in tears, "it's the gentleman from Strathoran--and it's Duncan
+and Angus--and he wouldna let me be, and they're--"
+
+An involuntary burst of laughter choked Flora's penitence.--The lifted
+head of her brother, with its look of comic appeal, as he held up his
+shears before Miss Falconer, and silently asked her permission to
+proceed--the grim steadfastness with which Angus continued to hold the
+victim on the grass--the vain attempt of Miss Falconer to look gravely
+displeased and dignified--the fierce struggles of Fitzherbert--Flora
+could not bear it: she ran in behind the bourtree-bush.
+
+Marjory stood undecided for a moment. She had great influence with the
+Macalpines and their class, as a strong and firm character always has.
+She thought for an instant of what people would say, almost for the
+first time in her life. Then she looked at the ludicrous scene before
+her--the just punishment of poor Flora's persecution. The prudent
+resolution faded away--she yielded to the fun and to the justice. She
+could not put her veto upon it.
+
+"George, do you go home--you are not wanted. Duncan, have you finished?"
+
+"Na," said the rejoicing Duncan, beginning with double zeal to ply his
+redoubtable shears. "He's a camstarie beast, this ane--he tak's lang
+shearing--but we're winning on, Mem."
+
+George reluctantly turned away. His mistress's orders were not to be
+trifled with, he knew. Little Bessie's pink handkerchief was in Johnnie
+Halflin's mouth again. Flora remained behind the bourtree-bush,
+terrified to look upon her tormentor's agonized face. Marjory Falconer
+looked on.
+
+The blood was rushing in torrents to her hot cheeks already.--She could
+have put an end to this if she would: instead of that she had encouraged
+it. She had yielded to the mirthful impulse: now she was paying the
+penalty in one of her overpowering agonies of shame.
+
+"Now--now!" she exclaimed, as Duncan, with methodic accuracy, finished
+his operation on one side of Mr. Fitzherbert's fiery countenance, "that
+will do now--let him go."
+
+The operators looked up in disappointment.
+
+"Do let him go; let me see him released before I leave you."
+
+Duncan and Angus looked at each other.
+
+"Weel," said Angus, smiling grimly, "he's gey weel; ye'll think again,
+my lad, before ye offer to lay your filthy fingers on a Macalpine, or
+ony ither lass in the countryside. Now, Duncan--"
+
+They began to free him from his bondage. Angus took one end of the plaid
+which confined his arms--Duncan the other. The process was satisfactory,
+but by no means gentle; over and over they rolled him, and when the
+hapless Fitzherbert found himself at last at liberty, he was lying
+within the green verge of the Oran--the soft waters embracing him. His
+first struggle threw him further in; and when he rose at last,
+spluttering with wrath and water, his clothes wet, his face scarred with
+the pebbles, and shorn of its hirsute glories--all his tormentors were
+gone. Light of foot, and conversant with all the by-ways, they had
+dispersed, considerably against the will of the Macalpines, but in
+obedience to the command of Miss Falconer, and the entreaties of Flora.
+
+In burning rage and mortification Mr. Fitzherbert stalked back to
+Strathoran. In the distance, upon the other side of the river, he could
+see the retreat of the Macalpines; it was a fruitless thing vowing
+vengeance upon them. He had done his worst; they were out of his power.
+
+But Mr. Fitzherbert's mortification and rage reached a climax when he
+looked upon his sad mutilation--cruel as Hanun the son of Nahash, and
+his artful counsellors of the children of Ammon, the scissors of the
+remorseless Duncan had swept away one entire half of Mr. Fitzherbert's
+adornments. It must all go, cherished and dearly beloved as it was--the
+flowing luxuriance of the one side must be sacrificed to the barbarous
+stubble of the other.--Alas the day! How should he meet Lord
+Gillravidge! how account for the holocaust! Mr. Fitzherbert was fitly
+punished--he was in despair.
+
+Marjory Falconer hurried along the road to Merkland, little less
+despairing than Mr. Fitzherbert. She was bitterly ashamed; her face was
+burning with passionate blushes. She needed no one to remind her of her
+loss of dignity; the strong and powerful vitality of her womanhood
+avenged itself completely. Like Jeanie Coulter, or Alice Aytoun, or even
+Anne Ross herself, she knew Marjory Falconer could never be!--nor like
+the cheerful active sister Martha of the Portoran Manse. Marjory did not
+blush more deeply when that last name glided into her memory; that was
+impossible--no human verdict, or condemnation would have abashed her so
+entirely as did her own strong, clear, unhesitating judgment; but she
+looked uncomfortable and uneasy. Another person now might be involved in
+the blame of her misdoings; the reflected shadow of those extravagancies
+might fall upon one, of whom many tongues were sufficiently ready to
+speak evil. It did not increase the scorching passion of her shame--but
+it deepened her repentance.
+
+"Is Miss Ross in, Duncan?" she asked as she entered Merkland.
+
+"Ou ay, Miss Falconer, Miss Anne's in," said Duncan, preceding her
+leisurely to Mrs. Ross's parlor. "She's in her ain room--according to
+her ain fashion. There's nae accounting for the whigmaleeries of you
+leddies, but an she disna live liker a human creature and less like a
+bird, ye may tak my word for't she'll no live ony way lang."
+
+"What do you mean?" exclaimed Marjory. "Is Miss Ross ill?"
+
+"Na. I'm no saying she's ill," was the cautious answer; "but taking lang
+flights her lane, up the water and down the water, and when she comes in
+eating a nip that wadna ser a lintie, and syne away up the stair to
+pingle her lane at a seam; I say it's a clear tempting o' Providence,
+Miss Falconer, and I have tell't Miss Anne that mysel."
+
+Marjory ran up stairs, and tapped at the door of Anne's room. "Come in,"
+said Anne. Marjory entered.
+
+The window was open--the full glory of the setting sun was pouring over
+the beautiful country, lying like a veil of golden tissue, sobered with
+fairy tints of gray and purple upon the far-off solemn hills, and
+gleaming in the river as you could trace its course for miles, where its
+thick fringe of foliage was parted here and there. Anne leant upon the
+window-still, looking out. It was not the fair heights and hollows of
+her native district that she saw; her eyes were veiled to these. The dim
+shores of the Forth in the still evening-time--the long, low, sighing of
+the waters--the desolate, gloomy house behind--the tall, gaunt figure
+stealing shadowlike over the glistening sand--these were before her
+constantly, in dream and vision, shutting out with their gray tints and
+sad colouring all other landscapes, how fair soever they might be.
+
+She did not look up when Marjory entered, but waited to be addressed,
+thinking it May or Barbara. At last, finding the new-comer did not
+speak, she turned round.
+
+"Marjory, is that you?"
+
+"What are you thinking of, Anne?" said Marjory. "What makes you dream
+and brood thus? There you have been gazing out these two minutes, as
+fixedly as if you saw something of the greatest interest. I am quite
+sure you don't know what you are looking at, and, had I come forward
+suddenly, and asked you what river that was, you would have faltered and
+deliberated before you could be certain it was the Oran. I know you
+would. What is it all about?"
+
+Anne smiled.
+
+"It is not so easy to tell. You put comprehensive questions, Marjory."
+
+"And here are you making yourself ill!" exclaimed Marjory, impetuously;
+"dreaming over something which no one is to know; walking alone, and
+sitting alone, and defrauding yourself of proper rest and relaxation,
+and altogether, as plainly as possible endeavoring to manufacture a
+consumption. I say, Anne Ross, what is it all about? I have a right to
+know--we all have a right to know; you don't belong to yourself. If you
+were not Anne Ross, of Merkland, I should begin to suspect we had some
+love-sickness on our hands."
+
+"And if you were any one else but Marjory Falconer, of Falcon's Craig, I
+should be very angry," said Anne, smiling.
+
+"Never anything reasonable from you since you came home; never a call
+upon any one but Mrs. Melder. Nothing but patient looks, and paleness,
+and reveries! I don't see why we should submit to it, Anne Ross. I
+protest, in the name of the parish--it is a public injustice!"
+
+"Very well, Marjory," said Anne. "Pray be so good as sit down now, and
+do not scold so bitterly. Did you come all the way from Falcon's Craig
+for the sole purpose of bringing me under discipline?"
+
+Marjory Falconer put up her hands to her cheeks to hide the vehement
+blushes which rushed back again; then, as she recalled the story she had
+come to tell, its ludicrous points overcame the shame, and she laughed
+with characteristic heartiness. There was not, after all, so very much
+to be ashamed of; but, as everybody exaggerated the extravagance of
+everything done by Marjory Falconer, so Marjory Falconer felt herself
+bitterly humiliated in the recollection of _escapades_ which young
+ladies of much greater pretensions would only have laughed at.
+
+"What is it, Marjory?" said Anne.
+
+The fit of shame returned.
+
+"Oh! not much. Only I have been making a fool of myself again."
+
+Anne expressed no wonder; she only drew her friend into a chair, and
+asked:
+
+"How?"
+
+"I am going to tell you. I came here at once, you see, lest some one
+else should be before me with the news. Ah! and there you sit as cool
+and calm as though I were not entering my purgatory!"
+
+"I don't want to tease you further," said Anne, "or I should say that
+when people make purgatories for themselves, it behoves them to endure
+patiently."
+
+"Very well: you don't intend to be sympathetic. I am quite satisfied.
+Now for my confession. Most unwittingly and innocently, I premise, was I
+led into the snare. Anne Ross! turn away from the window, and keep your
+glances within proper bounds. If your eyes wander so, I shall forget my
+own foolishness in yours--and I don't choose that."
+
+Anne obeyed, and Marjory told her story--sometimes overwhelmed with her
+own passionate humiliation, sometimes bursting into irrepressible mirth.
+It was very soon told. Anne looked annoyed and vexed. She did not speak.
+It was the sorest condemnation she could have given.
+
+"You have nothing to say to me!" exclaimed Marjory, the hot flood
+burning over her cheek, and neck, and forehead. "You think I am clearly
+hopeless now. You think--"
+
+"I think," said Anne, "that Marjory Falconer, whom malicious people
+blame for pride, is not half proud enough."
+
+"Not proud enough!"
+
+It was difficult to believe, indeed, when one saw the drawing-up of her
+tall, fine figure, and the flashing of her eye.
+
+"Yes, I understand. You would be proud enough were you Ralph; then, for
+everything brave, and honorable, and true, the fame of the Falconers
+would be safe in your hands: but you are not proud enough, being
+Marjory. I fancy we should inhabit a loftier atmosphere than these
+boyish frolics could find breath in, Marjory; an atmosphere too pure and
+rare to carry clamorous voices, whatever may be their burden."
+
+"Gentle and mild," said Marjory, attempting a laugh, which would not
+come; "perfumed and dainty. I am no exotic, Anne; I must breathe living
+air. I cannot breathe odors."
+
+Anne rose, and lifted her Bible from the table.
+
+"The sublime of mild and gentle belongs to One greater than us; but I
+don't want to compel you to these. Look here, Marjory."
+
+Marjory looked--read.
+
+"'Strength and honor are her clothing,'" and bowed her head, in token of
+being vanquished.
+
+"You have nothing to oppose to my argument," said Anne, smiling. "You
+are obliged to yield without a word. Let me convince you, Marjory, that
+we stoop mightily from our just position, when we condescend to meddle
+with such humiliating follies as the rights of women--that we do
+compromise our becoming dignity when we involve ourselves in a
+discreditable warfare, every step in advance of which is a further
+humiliation to us. I forgive you your share in this exploit with all my
+heart. I am not sorry the man is punished, though I would rather you had
+not been connected with his punishment. It is not very much, after all;
+but I do declare war against these polemics of yours--all and
+several.--I would have you more thoroughly woman-proud: it is by no
+means inconsistent with the truest humility. I would have you like this
+portrait; men do not paint in such vigorous colors now. Strength and
+honor, Marjory; household strength, and loftiness, and purity--better
+things than any imaginary rights that clamor themselves into mere
+words."
+
+Marjory was half angry, half smiling.
+
+"Very gentle, and calm, and proper, for an example to me; and so nobody
+does us any injustice--nobody oppresses us? Very well: but I did not
+know it before."
+
+"Nay," said Anne, playfully; "that is not what I said. But:
+
+            "'The good old rule
+      Sufficeth me, the simple plan,
+    That they should take who have the power,
+      And they should keep who can.'"
+
+"Anne!"
+
+"I am quite serious. There are few amongst us who are ruled more than we
+need to be, Marjory. The best mind will always assert itself, in
+whomsoever it may dwell--we are safe in that.--The weak ought to be
+controlled and guided, and will be, wherever there is a stronger,
+whether man or woman."
+
+"Strange doctrines, these!" said Marjory Falconer. "I acknowledge myself
+outdone. I give up my poor little innovations. Why, Anne Ross, what
+would the proper people say? What would the Coulters--the Fergusons--the
+whole parish?"
+
+"Perfectly agree with me," said Anne, "when it had time to think about
+it, without being shocked in the least. The proper people. You forget
+that I am a very proper person myself."
+
+"So I did," said Marjory Falconer, shrugging her shoulders, "so I did.
+Patronised by Mrs. Bairnsfather, highly approved by Mrs. Coulter and
+Mrs. Ferguson--I almost thought, just now, that you were as improper as
+myself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+
+The summer had reached its height--the fervent month of July was waning,
+and Anne Ross's cheek growing paler every day.--Very hard to bear this
+time of waiting was, harder than any toil or labor, more utterly
+exhausting than any weight of care and sorrow, which had opportunity and
+means of working! She hardly ventured to speak of returning to Aberford,
+for Mrs. Ross's peevishness at the merest hint of such a wish, and the
+impatience of Lewis, were perfectly natural, she acknowledged. Her
+former journey, undertaken in opposition to their opinion, had produced
+nothing; she could not expect that they would readily yield to her
+again.
+
+In the meantime tidings had come from Archibald Sutherland. He had
+reached his destination safely, and, under circumstances much more
+favorable than he could have hoped, had commenced his work. He had been
+able to render some especial service, the nature of which he did not
+specify, to his employer's only son, a very fine lad of fourteen or
+fifteen, which within a few days of his arrival brought him into Mr.
+Sinclair's house on the footing of a friend. Mr. Sinclair himself was,
+as common report said, a man of great enterprise in business, and
+notable perseverance, whose fortune was the work of his own hands; and
+blending with this, Archibald found a singular delicacy of tone and
+sentiment which pleased him greatly. A man of strong mould, whose "stalk
+of carle hemp," was invested with rare intellectual grace and
+refinement--a household which, under the fervent skies of that strange
+Western World, remained still a Scottish household, looking back with
+the utmost love and tenderness to its own country and home--in the
+atmosphere of these, the broken laird found himself not long a stranger.
+
+Mr. Sinclair had some knowledge of the North country--had heard of
+Archibald's family, and on some long past occasion, had seen Mrs.
+Catherine. This was an additional bond. The family of the merchant lived
+a very quiet life in a country house in the vicinity of the town, having
+scarcely any visitors: Archibald Sutherland, with his attainments and
+abilities, was an acquisition to them.
+
+His prospects were pleasant; they brightened the inner room at the
+Tower, and shed a ray of light even upon Anne's reveries. Something more
+was needed, however, to shake off the lethargic sadness that begun to
+overpower her. Mrs. Catherine applied the remedy.
+
+Upon a drowsy July afternoon, when one could fancy the earth, with her
+flushed cheek and loose robes, lying in that languid dreamy state, half
+way between asleep and awake, which in Scotland we call "dovering," Mrs.
+Catherine in her rustling silken garments, went stately down under the
+shadow of the trees, to Merkland. It was a very unusual honor. Mrs.
+Catherine was wont to receive visits, not to pay them.
+
+Anne went to the gate to receive her. Lewis who, with characteristic
+prudence, had already begun to devote himself to the careful managing of
+his lands, put away the papers that lay before him, and left the library
+with much wonder, to ascertain Mrs. Catherine's errand. Mrs. Ross rose
+very peevishly from the sofa on which she had been for the last hour
+enjoying her usual sleep. It was enough to make any one ill-humored to
+be disturbed so unexpectedly.
+
+"Now, Madam," said Mrs. Catherine, when Mrs. Ross had greeted her with
+great ceremony and politeness, "you may ken I have come for a special
+purpose; I am going to Edinburgh."
+
+"To Edinburgh!" exclaimed Mrs. Ross; "_you_, Mrs. Catherine. How shall
+we manage to get on at all without you?"
+
+"You will contrive it in some manner doubtless," said Mrs. Catherine,
+drily.
+
+"_I_ may, perhaps, for I am a great house-keeper; but for Anne and
+Lewis, nothing goes right if a week passes without two or three visits
+to the Tower."
+
+"Ay, Lewis, is it so?" said Mrs. Catherine. "I thought not I had kept
+the power, now that I am past threescore, of drawing to my dwelling
+gallants of your years."
+
+"I have not been at the Tower for a month," said Lewis, bluntly; "I mean
+I have been very much occupied."
+
+"As you should be," said Mrs. Catherine. "I am not seeking excuses,
+Lewis; I am but blythe that it is not my memory that is failing
+me--seeing I should like ill to suffer loss in that particular, till
+this world's affairs are out of my hands--be careful of your lawful
+business, Lewis, as becomes your years. If you were a good bairn, I
+might maybe do my endeavor to bring folk back with me, that your leisure
+would be better spent upon: in the meantime, I have a suit to your
+mother."
+
+Mrs. Ross looked astonished.
+
+"To me?"
+
+"Yes; this bairn Anne, Mrs. Ross, as you see, has been misbehaving
+herself. My own gray cheek, withered as it is, has stronger health upon
+it than is on her young one. I have a doctor of physic among my serving
+woman; I see no reason why I should not undertake to work cures as well
+as my neighbors--send her with me--I will bring her back free of her
+trouble."
+
+"Oh, I beg you will not refer to me," said Mrs. Ross, angrily. "Anne is
+quite able to judge for herself."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Madam. I say this bairn Anne has no call to judge
+for herself. Is it your pleasure that I should try my skill? I came to
+make my petition to you, and not to Anne."
+
+"She is an excessively unreasonable girl," said Mrs. Ross, tossing her
+head; "if you know how to manage her, it is more than I do. I assure
+you, Mrs. Catherine, Anne's conduct to me is of the most undutiful kind.
+She is a very foolish, unreasonable girl."
+
+Poor Anne had been laboring these three or four weeks to please her
+stepmother, as assiduously as any fagged governess or sempstress in the
+land. The honorable scars of the needle had furrowed her finger; she had
+been laboring almost as hardly, and to much better purpose than the
+greater portion of those "needlewomen, distressed or otherways," whose
+miserable work done for miserable wages attracts so much sympathy and
+benevolent exertion in these days. She was somewhat astonished at the
+undeserved accusation. If she did wander for long miles along the course
+of the Oran, it was in the dewy morning, before Mrs. Ross had left her
+room. If she did brood over her secret hope and sorrow, it was when Mrs.
+Ross was sullen or asleep. She said nothing in self-defence, but felt
+the injustice keenly, notwithstanding.
+
+"That is what I am saying," said Mrs. Catherine. "She has been
+misbehaving herself, and we have noticed her pining away, in silence. So
+far as I can see, it is high time to take note of it now; therefore my
+petition is, that you suffer her to go with me. It is not my wont to
+pass over ill-doing; let me have the guiding of her for a while."
+
+"I think you ought to take advantage of Mrs. Catherine's invitation,
+Anne," said Lewis. "You do not look well."
+
+Mrs. Ross tossed her head in silence.
+
+"Truly, Anne," said Mrs. Catherine, "I have worn out of the way of
+asking favors; maybe it is want of use that makes me prosper so ill. Am
+I to get your daughter, Mrs. Ross for company on my travel, or am I
+not? I must pray you to let me have your answer."
+
+"Oh, if you choose to take her, and if Anne chooses to go, my consent is
+of little consequence," said Mrs. Ross: then softening her tone a
+little, she added, "I have no objection, unfortunately Anne is not of
+sufficient importance in the household, Mrs. Catherine, to make us feel
+the want of her greatly. Certainly I have no objection--she can go."
+
+A harsh reply rose to Mrs. Catherine's lips; but for Anne's sake, she,
+suppressed it--the permission, ungracious as it was, was accepted, and
+Mrs. Catherine made arrangements with Anne for their journey; she had
+settled that they should leave the Tower that week.
+
+Mrs. Catherine travelled in her own carriage. She had an old house,
+grand and solitary, in an old quarter of Edinburgh, whose antique
+furniture and lofty rooms strangers came to see, as one of the lesser
+wonders of the city, which boasts so many. Mrs. Catherine's horses were
+proceeding at a good pace along the southward road, within sight of a
+dazzling sea, and very near the dark high cliffs, and scattered fisher
+villages which formed its margin. Johnnie Halflin sat beside the
+coachman, Jacky Morison and her grandmother were behind. Mrs. Catherine
+within was explaining her plans to Anne.
+
+"It is my purpose, child, to set you to your labor again; I see there is
+neither health nor peace for you until you have got some better inkling
+of this matter. Am I not right?"
+
+"Perfectly," said Anne. "I cannot rest, indeed. I shall be of little use
+to any one, until some light is thrown on this."
+
+"Then, child, it is my meaning to dwell in my own house in Edinburgh,
+where you can find me, if I am needed. I cannot be in the house of a
+stranger, or I would have gone with you. I am not ill-pleased that this
+necessity has come, for there are many in Edinburgh, that it is meet I
+should say farewell to, before I depart to my rest. Forbye this, child,
+there is another cloud rising upon the sky of that ill-trysted house of
+Sutherland."
+
+Anne started.
+
+"Archibald is well--is there any further intelligence, Mrs. Catherine?"
+
+"Archie's sister is not well, Gowan. Did I not tell you that her fuil of
+a man was dead?"
+
+"No, I never heard it before."
+
+"I meant to tell you--it has passed from my mind, in the thought of the
+travel. He has been killed--how, or for what reason, I have not asked. I
+have written to Isabel Sutherland to come home. I cannot trust her
+without natural guard or helper, her lane in the midst of strangers. She
+is a light-headed, vain, undutiful girl--I know her of old--and farther
+shame must not come upon the house, Gowan, if it is in my power to ward
+it off. If she will not come, I have made up my mind--I will go, and
+bring her home."
+
+"Go!" exclaimed Anne. "To England?--you are not able for the journey."
+
+"Hold your peace, child! I am able for whatever is needful, as every
+mortal is, that has a right will to try. It's my hope Archie Sutherland
+is in a fair way of recovering his good fame and healthful spirit. If
+Isabel is in peril, it is deadly and beyond remedy--for the sake of the
+fuil herself (she bears Isabel Balfour's name and outward resemblance,)
+and for the sake of Archie, I am bound to do my endeavor, if it should
+be by the strong hand. Child, you may think me distrustful beyond what
+is needed. Maybe I am. She left her mother's sick-bed for the sake of a
+strange man. And when he was sent to a solitary place, she left him,
+also, for the sake of vanities. If you had done the like, I would have
+distrusted you."
+
+Anne could not realize the cause of distrust. She deprecated, and
+thought Mrs. Catherine's fears uncalled for--shrinking from the idea of
+danger to Isabel, almost as she would have done from any suspicion of
+herself.
+
+When she had seen Mrs. Catherine settled comfortably in her spacious and
+grand Edinburgh lodging, and the bustle of arrival fairly over, Anne,
+with her attendant Jacky, proceeded to Aberford.
+
+Miss Crankie and Mrs. Yammer were at tea. Their energetic little servant
+ushered Anne into the small parlor, looking out upon the green, in which
+they usually sat. They had blue cups and saucers of the venerable willow
+pattern, arranged above the red and yellow lady on the tray--a teapot,
+belonging to the same set, with a lid, the sole relic of a broken black
+one--a comfortable plate of tolerably thick bread-and-butter, and two or
+three saucers, containing various specimens of jellies. Mrs. Yammer sat
+languidly in a great, old elbow-chair. Miss Crankie was perched upon a
+low seat before the tray, making tea.
+
+Anne's entrance caused a commotion. There were a great many apologies,
+and expressions of wonder and pleasure at seeing her again; and then she
+was begged to take a seat, and a cup of tea. Anne sat down, and kindly
+looked out at the window, while Miss Crankie abstracted the lid from the
+teapot, and, from the depths of an adjoining cupboard, produced another
+one more resembling it in color.
+
+"Ye see," said Miss Crankie, nodding her wiry little curls at the
+ruddy-colored compounds in the saucers, "we've been making our jelly,
+and were just trying it. I can recommend the rasps, Miss Ross--the red
+currants would take a thought mair boiling, and the gooseberries are
+drumlie--but I can recommend the rasps."
+
+"If Miss Ross is no feared for her teeth," sighed Mrs. Yammer. "I got
+cauld mysel on Sabbath at the Kirk, and was trying the jam for my
+throat. I'm a puir weak creature, Miss Ross: the wind gangs through me
+like a knife."
+
+"I have returned to you for accommodation, Miss Crankie," said Anne.
+"Are the rooms unoccupied now?"
+
+"Eh, bless me! isna that an uncommon providence," exclaimed Miss
+Crankie. "Mrs. Mavis is gaun away the morn!"
+
+"But what can you do with me to-night?" said Anne.
+
+"Oh, nae fear o' us--we'll do grand," said Miss Crankie. "I'm blyth
+ye're come back Miss Ross, and yet I'm sorry to see you so shilpit.
+Ye'll find the sea-air do ye mair guid noo. Ye're no looking half sae
+well as ye did when ye gaed away."
+
+"Ah! Miss Ross," said Mrs. Yammer, dolorously, "I hope ye'll use the
+means and get right advice in time. Ye'll be fashed wi' a pain in your
+side? For mysel, it's little use saying what I have to thole--there's
+scarce an hour in the day, that I havna stitches through and through
+me."
+
+"Hout, Tammie, ye're aye meat-hale," responded her brisker sister.
+"Ye've come at a better season now, Miss Ross, the haill town is full of
+sea-bathers. I was saying to auld Marget, that she might win a pound or
+twa for her ain hand, with letting some o' thae muckle rooms, in Schole,
+and naebody, be the waur--it's sae handy for the sea--if Kirstin Lillie
+and her brother, hadna come hame sae suddenly."
+
+"They are at home, then?" said Anne.
+
+"Oh, ay! they came hame about a month ago, in as great a hurry as they
+gaed away; ane scarce ever sees them noo, even on the sands--they're
+strange folk."
+
+The next day, young Mrs. Mavis and her two blooming children left their
+sea-side lodgings, and Anne took peaceful possession of her former
+rooms. The tall gaunt outline of Schole, as it stood out against the
+deep blue of the evening sky, dismal and forlorn as it was, looked like
+a friend; but though she lingered about its vicinity all the night, and
+watched eagerly within sight of its little gate, no one ventured forth.
+The low projecting window had light within it, but it was curtained
+carefully. She could see no trace of Christian. Why did they avoid her?
+why was there so much additional secrecy and seclusion?
+
+The second day after their arrival in Aberford, Jacky had a visitor. It
+was little Bessie, Alice Aytoun's maid. Bessie was living with an aunt,
+the wife of a forester, whose house was within three or four miles of
+Aberford. Jacky, by Anne's permission, returned with her to spend the
+afternoon in the aunt's house.
+
+The two girls set out very jubilant and in high spirits, with much
+laughing mention of Johnnie Halflin, whom Bessie had already seen in
+Edinburgh, and from whom she had received a very grandiloquent account
+of the chastisement of Mr. Fitzherbert, and of the mighty things which
+the said Johnnie would have done, had not Miss Falconer put her _veto_
+on his valor.
+
+The forester's house was in the bosom of the wood under his charge. A
+narrow foot-road, winding through the trees, ran close to the bounding
+hedge of its well-stocked garden, and nestling warmly below the thick
+foliage, the house stood snug in the corner of its luxuriant enclosure,
+presiding in modest pride, like some sober cottage matron, conscious of
+decent comfort and independence, over its flourishing cabbages, and
+stately bushes of southern-wood, ripe gooseberries, and abounding roses.
+Within, it was as clean and bright as forest cottage could be, and with
+its long vistas of noble trees everywhere, and the one thread of
+communication with the outer world that ran close to its door, was a
+pleasant habitation--homelike and cheerful. Bessie's aunt was, like her
+cottage, soberly light-hearted, kind and motherly. Upon her well scoured
+white deal table, she had set out a row of glancing cups and saucers,
+flanked with delicate bannocks of various kinds, and jelly more
+plentiful than Miss Crankie's. It was early in the afternoon. Mrs.
+Young, honest woman, hospitably purposed entertaining her guests with a
+magnificent tea before her husband and stalwart sons came in to their
+ruder and more substantial meal. She gave her niece's friend a hearty
+welcome; the two girls, after their dusty walk of four miles, by no
+means thought the kindly auntie's preparations unseasonable; but after
+Mrs. Young had turned a deaf ear to two or three hints from Bessie, she
+explained her delay at last.
+
+"Ye see, lassies, there's an auld neighbor coming this gate this
+afternoon. Her and me served in one place before I was married, and
+she's been lang in a gentleman's house, south--near Berwick. She's an
+auld lass; a thrifty weel-doing carefu' woman, wi' a guid wage, and
+siller to the fore; but she's come to years when folk are lone, if they
+have nae near friends, and Rob Miller, her brither, has a housefu' o'
+weans; and I'm no sure that his wife can be fashed fyking about a
+pernickity single woman. So ye maun see and be ceevil, and take note o'
+Jean--how weel put on and wise-like she is--and tak a pattern by her;
+it's a' her ain doing; she's been working for hersel' a' her days."
+
+Bessie drummed upon the table--looked at the tea "masking" before the
+fire, the smooth, well-baked bannocks, and beautiful red currant jelly
+upon the table--and became impatient.
+
+"I wish she would come then, auntie. It's awfu' stourie on the road."
+
+"Yonder's somebody in among the trees," said Jacky, glancing out.
+
+It was Mrs. Young's friend at last, and the good woman bestirred herself
+to complete her table arrangements, while Bessie conveyed the mighty
+Leghorn bonnet and wonderful Paisley shawl, which Rob Miller's eldest
+daughter already looked forward to as a great inheritance, into the
+inner room. Mrs. Young's friend was a tall, bony, erect woman, with a
+thin brown face, and projecting teeth, and sandy hair carefully smoothed
+beneath a muslin cap, modestly, tied with a scrap of blue ribbon. She
+was a very homely, unhandsome-looking person, yet had an unassuming
+simplicity about her, not common in the upper servant class. Jean Miller
+had known evil in her day. The long upper lip pressing above these
+irregular ill-shaped teeth of her's had quivered with deep griefs many
+times in the painful and weary past years, which had left no record of
+themselves or of her course in them, save that most deeply pathetic one
+engraven in her own solitary high heart--a high heart it was, humble and
+of slight regard as was the frame it dwelt in--much stricken, sorely
+tried, and with an arrow quivering in it still.
+
+Jean's hands were rigidly crossed in her lap; she was never quite at
+ease in idleness. Mrs. Young good-humoredly drew her chair to the table,
+called Bessie, placed the teapot on the tray, and began her duties.
+There was a simple blessing asked upon the "offered mercies," according
+to the reverent usage of peasant families in Scotland, and then the
+dainties were discussed.
+
+"And how is Andrew winning on wi' his learning, Jean?" said Mrs. Young.
+
+There was a slight quivering of the thin upper lip--very slight--no eye
+less keen than Jacky's could have perceived it.
+
+"They tell me very weel," said Jean, meekly; "he's been getting some
+grand books in a prize, and they're unco weel pleased wi' him at the
+college."
+
+"He's a clever lad," said Mrs. Young.
+
+"Ay, I'll no say but he's a lad of pairts," said Jean, "if he but makes
+a right use o' them."
+
+"Ay," said Mrs. Young, sympathetically, "they're no ower guid company
+for that, thae young doctor-lads. Eh, keep me! Jean woman, if this
+callant was taking to ill courses like his faither, ye wad never haud up
+your head again."
+
+Jean's lip quivered again--more visibly this time--the discipline of her
+self-denying life had been a stern one. The prodigal of her family, the
+gayest, handsomest, and cleverest of them all, a good workman, and an
+idle one, had hung upon her, a heavy, painful burden, falling step by
+step in the ruinous downward course of reckless dissipation, until he
+ended his days at last, shorn of all the gaiety and cleverness which had
+thrown a veil at first upon his sin--an imbecile, drivelling drunkard.
+With mighty anguish, which few comprehended or could sympathize with,
+she had prayed, entreated, remonstrated, forgiven, and supported him
+through all his sad career. He left an orphan boy on her hands. With the
+tenderest mother-anxiety, Jean Miller had brought up this child--with
+genuine mother-ambition, had, at the cost of long labor, and much
+self-denying firmness on her own part, sent him to college when he
+reached proper years, eager to raise him above the fear of that terrible
+stain and sin which had destroyed the first Andrew--her once gay and
+clever brother. But of late insidious voices had whispered in her ear
+that the second Andrew had taken the first step in that descending
+course. In agony unspeakable, the youth's watchful guardian hastened to
+Edinburgh to ascertain the truth of this. She found it false; there was
+yet no appearance of any budding evil, but her heart, falling back upon
+its sad experience, sank within her, prophetic of evil. She said nothing
+in return to the ill-advised sympathy of Mrs. Young--her lip
+quivered--it was more eloquent than words.
+
+"You're new to this country, I'm thinking?" she said, addressing Jacky.
+
+"Yes," said Jacky, bashfully.
+
+"She's frae the north country," said Mrs. Young. "Ye've been lang out o'
+this pairt yoursel, Jean."
+
+"Ay," was the answer, "it's eighteen year past the twenty-first o'
+June--I mind the day weel."
+
+"That would be about the time the gentleman was killed," said Mrs.
+Young.
+
+"Yes," said Jean; "the very morning. I'll ne'er forget it."
+
+"Eh, auntie!" exclaimed Bessie. "Whatna gentleman?"
+
+Jacky did not speak, but her thin, angular frame thrilled nervously, and
+she fixed her keen eyes upon Jean.
+
+"Deed a gentleman ye've heard o' often enough, Bessie," said her aunt.
+"Miss Alice's father--ye've heard your mother telling the story about
+Mr. Aytoun mony a time, nae doubt. Ye see, Jean, my sister was Mrs.
+Aytoun's right-hand woman. I dinna ken how the puir lady would have won
+through her trouble ava, when Miss Alice was born, if it hadna been for
+our Bell--no that he was ower guid a man, if a' tales were true, but nae
+doubt it was an awfu' dispensation. Ane forgets ill and wrang when the
+doer o't's taen away--and a violent death like that!"
+
+"Weel," said Jean Miller, "a'body's dear to their ain. But he wasna
+muckle worth the mourning for."
+
+"And how was he killed?" asked Jacky, with some trepidation.
+
+"Anither gentleman--a fine, cheery, kindly lad as ye could see--shot him
+wi' a gun. It was an awfu' disgrace to the parish, as weel as a great
+crime; but, sae far as I could hear, the folk were mair wae for young
+Redheugh than they were for Mr. Aytoun."
+
+"And were they sure he did it?" asked Jacky, breathlessly.
+
+"Sure! Lassie, what could be surer? They found his gun, wi' his name
+on't and they saw him himsel leaving the wood; and unco easy he had
+ta'en it, as the folk say, for he was gaun whistling and singing at a
+fule sang, and the man's bluid on his hand."
+
+"If he took it easy, it's mair than his friends did," said Jean Miller,
+significantly.
+
+"I never heard tell of ony friends he had in this part," said the
+matter-of-fact Mrs. Young. "He was nephew to the auld family, and no
+son. I mind hearing ance that he was frae some place away in the
+Hielands--but maybe that was a' lees."
+
+"But maybe you werena meaning a relation?" adventured Jacky, addressing
+Jean.
+
+"Na, lassie, it was nae relation. I ken naething about his kin: it was a
+friend--ane that was uncommon chief wi' him. He was a student lad at
+that time, that had served his time to be a doctor like my ain nephew
+Andrew, only he was done wi' the college; and if ever mortal man was out
+o' his mind wi' trouble and fricht and sore grief for an unhappy
+reprobate, it was that lad, the morning o' the murder."
+
+"Did you see him?" exclaimed Jacky, anxiously.
+
+"Ay, lass, I saw him. I was gaun hame that very day to my place that I'm
+in yet--I've been eighteen year past wi' the same mistress--and it
+happened I was by that waterside between eight and nine in the morning.
+I was but a young lass then, and I had reason for't--it's nae matter now
+what it was. I was coming round the howe o' the brae where the road
+turns aff to the Milton, when I met that lad. That white apron had mair
+a life-like color than he had on his face; but, for a' that, he was
+wiping his brow for heat. The look of him was like the look of a man
+that had the bluid standing still in his veins. He neither saw me, nor
+the road he was gaun on, but just dashed on right before him, as if
+naething could stop him in the race. Ye may tak my word, it's nae little
+grief like what men ca' sympathy or pity, that could pit a man into a
+blind madness like that. I ken mair about it noo than I did then."
+
+"Woman--Jean!" exclaimed Mrs. Young; "what for did ye no come forrit at
+the time--it might have helped the proof? Losh! would the tane be
+helping the tither? would there be twa o' them at the misfortunate man?"
+
+"Na; he was an innocent, pithless callent, that Maister Patrick," said
+Jean. "_He_ could have nae hand in't. A' that day I couldna get his
+face out o' my mind; but I had mony things to trouble me, sorting at my
+mother, and putting things right for Andrew--he was doing weel then,
+puir man!--and getting my ain kist ready for my journey, and I gaed away
+early in the day, and so I didna hear o' the murder. And my mother was
+nae hand at the writing, and Andrew, puir man, was aye a thocht
+careless, and I never saw ane belanging to my ain place, to tell me the
+news. So a' the trying that there was, was dune, and poor young Redheugh
+was lying at the bottom of the sea, before I ever heard tell o't--but
+I've aye minded sinsyne Maister Patrick Lillie's awfu' face--I've had a
+kindness for him frae that day, for of a' the sair troubles in this
+world, I ken nane, like murning ower a sinner that ye canna mend, and
+yet that ye would gie your ain life for, as blythe as ever ye gaed to
+your rest. I ken what it is--and sure am I, that if ever there was a man
+distracted with the crime o' anither, it was Maister Patrict Lillie, for
+young Redheugh."
+
+"And was Redheugh an ill man?" said Jacky, in a half whisper.
+
+"I never heard an ill word o' him till then. He was as weel likit as a
+man could be--and a kinder heart to puir folk there wasna in the
+countryside."
+
+"And that's true," said Mrs. Young. "Ye should take it to yoursels,
+lassies--you that are young, and havena got the rule o' your ain
+spirits. There was a fine young gentleman, ye see, wi' routh o' a'
+thing, as grand as heart could desire, and yet he tint baith life and
+name, in this world and the next, a' for an evil anger in his heart.
+It's an awfu' warning--it's our pairt to improve it for our ain
+edification."
+
+"And what for was the gentleman angry at Mr. Aytoun?" asked Bessie.
+
+"Oh! the adversary has aye plenty spunks to light that fire wi'. Some
+folk say yae thing, and some anither. I've heard it was for speaking
+lightly of a young lady that was trothplighted to Redheugh."
+
+"And what for did he no fecht him, the way folk fecht in books?" said
+Bessie.
+
+"Nae doubt because the enemy thought he had fa'en on an easier plan of
+putting an end to them baith. Nae mortal in this world, let alane a bit
+lassie like you, can faddom the wiles o' the auld serpent, or the
+weakness o' folk's ain treacherous hearts. It's no what folk should do,
+to be making a wark about a criminal like that, that shed blood wi' a
+wilful hand--but there was mony a heart in the parish wae for Redheugh."
+
+"And him that ye saw coming out of the wood?" said Jacky, tremulously,
+turning to Jean Miller again: "how would he ken?"
+
+"I canna tell," said Jean. "It was my thought he had met Redheugh, or
+seen him, when the deed was new done--and it stunned the very soul
+within him, so that he scarce kent in his extremity what it was, that
+was pitting him distracted. I was asking Rob's wife about him last
+night: she says his sister and him are living their lane in an unco
+quiet way. Puir lad!--but he'll be a man of years now."
+
+"And ye didna speak to him?" said Jacky.
+
+"Speak to him! Lassie, if ye havena a lighter weird than ither folk,
+ye'll ken before lang, that sore trouble is not to be spoken to. I wad
+rather gang into a king's chamber unbidden, than put mysel forrit, when
+I wasna needed, into the heavy presence of grief."
+
+"For grief is a king, too," murmured Jacky.
+
+"And so it is," said Jean Miller, with another emphatic quiver of her
+lip--the little narrow Edinburgh attic, in which her student nephew
+toiled, or ought to toil, rising before her eyes, and her heart yearning
+over him in unutterable agonies of tenderness--"and so it is--and
+kenning that there's sin in ane ye like weel, or fearing that there's
+sin, in ane whose purity is the last hope o' your heart, that's the king
+o' a' griefs. But, mind, ye mauna say a word of this ower again. I never
+tell't onybody before now, and I would like ill to add a trouble to a
+sair heart. Mind, ye mauna mention this again."
+
+"Yonder's my uncle!" exclaimed Bessie, whom this grave episode had
+wearied mightily, "and Jamie, and Michael, and Tam. We've twa good hours
+yet, Jacky, before, ye need to gang hame, and Miss Anne winna be angry
+if you're a thocht late. We'll gang and let ye see the Fairy Well--it's
+at the ither end o' the wood. Eh, woman, ye dinna ken how bonnie it is!"
+
+But Jacky had no heart for the Fairy Well, or the rude gallantry of Tam,
+and Michael, and Jamie. She was too full of the great intelligence she
+had gathered for her mistress. She drew her own conclusions, quickly
+enough, if not very clearly, but she saw at once that Anne would think
+it of the highest importance. How she knew so much we cannot tell--she
+could not have told herself. These electric thrills of intuition, which
+put the elf into possession of the most secret and guarded desires and
+wishes of her superiors, were as much a mystery to herself as to others.
+There were various mysteries about her--not the least of these being the
+reason why the spirit of a knight errant, of as delicate honor, and
+heroic devotion, as ever adorned the brightest age of chivalry, should
+have been endued with the singular, and by no means elegantly formed
+garment, of this girl's dark elfin frame and humble place.
+
+So Jacky with much weariness, physical and mental, endured the visit to
+the Fairy Well; and then under the safe conduct of Tam, Mrs. Young's
+youngest son, and "convoyed" half way by Bessie and Michael, returned to
+Aberford. The night had fallen before she reached Miss Crankie's house.
+Anne, newly returned from a long and ineffectual survey of Schole, had
+passively submitted to have candles placed upon her table by Miss
+Crankie's servant. She still sat by the window, however, looking out
+upon that centre of mysterious interest. It was perfectly still--only a
+faint reflection of light upon the dark water told of a watcher in the
+high chamber of the desolate house.
+
+Jacky entered, and Anne turned to ask her kindly how she had enjoyed her
+visit. "I dinna ken, Miss Anne," said Jacky, "but if ye please--"
+
+"What, Jacky?"
+
+"Would ye let me draw down the blind, and put in your chair to the
+table, because I've something to tell you, Miss Anne."
+
+Anne consented immediately. The room looked, as dusky parlors will look
+by faint candle-light in the evenings of bright summer days, very dull
+and forlorn and melancholy. Anne seated herself smiling by the table;
+she expected some chronicle of little Bessie's kindred, or at the utmost
+some confession of petty ill-doing, which burdened Jacky's conscience.
+Jacky's conscience was exceedingly tender; she did make such confessions
+sometimes.
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne," began Jacky earnestly, "Bessie's aunt kens
+Jean Miller."
+
+"And who is Jean Miller, Jacky?" said Anne, smiling.
+
+"And if ye please, Miss Anne, Jean Miller was in the wood by the
+waterside, at the brae, where the road goes to the Milton farm, eighteen
+years ago, on the twenty first of June."
+
+It was Anne's turn to start, and look up anxiously now. Jacky went on in
+the firm steadiness of strong excitement.
+
+"And if ye please, Miss Anne, she saw a man; and it wasna Mr. ---- it
+wasna the gentleman they ca' young Redheugh--"
+
+"Who was it, Jacky?"
+
+"His face was whiter than white cloth, and he was like as if the blood
+was standing still in his veins, and he was running straight on, as if
+he neither saw the road nor who was looking at him; and as he ran, he
+wipit his brow, for a' that he was whiter than death."
+
+Anne was walking through the room in burning agitation; she could not
+rest--now she came up to Jacky, as the girl made a pause for breath, and
+grasped her arm.
+
+"Who was he, Jacky--who was he?"
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne, it was the gentleman at Schole. She called him
+Mr. Patrick Lillie."
+
+Anne put her hands up to her head, dizzy and stunned; she felt like one
+who had received a mighty shock, and scarcely knew either the instrument
+or the reality of it in the first extremity of its power. She did not
+say a word--she did not think--she sat down unconsciously on her chair,
+and pressed her hands to her head with some vague idea of crushing the
+dull indefinite pain out of it. Jacky stood beside her, pale,
+self-possessed, but trembling violently; the girl's excitement had
+reached a white heat--intensely strong and still.
+
+Deadly light and deadly darkness struggling for hopeless mastery--a goal
+so nearly won, and yet so utterly removed. A long, low cry of pain came
+from Anne's parched lips; she had not strength or heart to inquire
+further; a fearful possibility came upon her now, which had never struck
+her mind before.
+
+At length, when the violence of the first shock was moderated, she began
+again to question Jacky. Jean Miller's explanation of the haggard looks
+and wild bewilderment of Norman's friend composed, though it could not
+convince her. She must see him, this mysterious sufferer, must
+ascertain--standing before him face to face--what of this dark dread
+might be true, and what false. It would not leave her: before she had
+been alone for ten minutes, the deadly bewilderment had returned, and
+what to do she knew not!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+
+The next morning rose, dim, hot, and oppressive, suiting well, in its
+unnatural stillness and sultry brooding, with the terror of bewilderment
+and darkness which had fallen upon Anne. The tossings and wild
+restlessness of that mental fever, the gloomy clouds that had settled
+upon the future, the sad significance with which Christian Lillie's
+words came burning back upon her memory--bore her down in dark blinding
+agony as those heavy thunder clouds bore down upon the earth. She
+wandered out:--with eyes keen for that one object, and veiled to all
+things else, she hovered about Schole. Once as she lingered by the
+hedge, she saw an upper window opened, and the pale head which she had
+seen once before, with its high snowy temples and thin hair, and
+delicately lined face, looked out steadfastly upon the gloomy weltering
+water. The eyes were blue, deep, and liquid as a summer evening sky--the
+face, with all its tremulous poetry, and exquisite delicacy of
+feebleness, was gazing out with a mournful composure, which made its
+extreme susceptibility and fluctuating language of expression, more
+remarkable than ever. Calmly mournful as it then was, you could so well
+see how the lightest breath would agitate it--the faintest whisper sway
+and mould these delicate facile features. One long, steadfast sad look
+was thrown over the darkly silent water, and brooding ominous sky, and
+then the window was closed. Anne remained upon the sands nearly the
+whole day--but saw nothing more of the mysterious inhabitants of Schole.
+
+Wild whispers of wind curled along the dark Firth as the evening fell.
+All the day, the earth had been lying in that dread, bewildered pause
+which comes before a thunder storm. Now, as Anne sat looking out into
+the darkness, the tempest began; the night was very dark--the whole
+breadth of the sky was covered by one ponderous thunder-cloud, through
+which there suddenly shot a sheet of ghastly light. Anne was still at
+the window--she started back, but not before the scene revealed by that
+flash, had fixed itself in its terrific gloom and unearthly colors upon
+her memory. The dismal outline of the house of Schole--the sea beyond,
+plunging and heaving in black wrath--and on its troubled and gloomy
+bosom, a drifting, helpless ship, the broken masts and rigging of which
+seemed for the moment flaming with wild, phosphoric light. Anne shrank
+from the window; but in a moment returned in intense anxiety, too
+thoroughly aroused and absorbed to think of fear.
+
+Another flash, and yet another--and still the helpless, dismantled ship
+was drifting on; she fancied she could see dark figures, specks in the
+distance, clinging to the yards; she fancied she could discern the black
+waves weltering over the buried hull, as the light fell full upon the
+vessel--there was a blind incompetency in its motions which showed that
+its crew had lost command of it.--She saw the falling of some spar--she
+fancied she could hear a terrible shrill cry; she threw open her window.
+The thunder was pealing its awful trumpet-note into the dense
+darkness:--gazing eagerly through the gloom she waited for another
+flash.
+
+"For guid sake come in--for pity's sake come in," cried Miss Crankie,
+pulling her from behind. The sisters, their maid, and Jacky had crowded
+together into Anne's room in the gregarious instinct of fear.
+
+Bursting over the mighty gloom of waters flashed that death-like
+illumination. There _were_ figures on the yards of the drifting
+ship--there were wild cries of sharp despair and anguish; you could
+fancy there were even agonized hands stretching out in vain for help,
+and there were--yes, there were also figures upon the sands. "God
+preserve us!" exclaimed Miss Crankie in overwhelming awe and excitement
+as the flash shone over their faces. "Miss Ross for pity's sake come
+in."
+
+Anne did come in--she snatched a shawl which hung upon a chair, and
+hurried blindly forward to the door.
+
+"Where are ye gaun?" exclaimed Miss Crankie.
+
+It was echoed in different tones by all the others, as they crowded
+together in awe and terror.
+
+"To the sands--to the sands," said Anne: she made her way through them
+in spite of remonstrance and entreaty: she extricated herself from the
+detaining grasp of Miss Crankie, and leaving the house, ran hastily
+towards Schole.
+
+It was a fearful night; the wind had risen imperceptibly from the wild
+whispers which crept over the Firth in the earlier evening to a
+shifting, coarse, impetuous gale. The lightning, as it burst in sheets
+over the earth, revealed strange glimpses of the shivering summer
+foliage and verdure, which bore so strange a contrast to the storm
+raging above. Anne saw nothing but the black, weltering water--the
+helpless drifting ship--the deadly danger of some souls--the help that
+might be rendered them.
+
+Before she reached Schole, Miss Crankie and Jacky overtook her--none of
+them spoke. All were agitated, excited, and anxious--all were looking
+eagerly towards the sea.
+
+Another flash--the black waters were dashing high up on those feeble
+spars. Clinging to them in the wild vehemence of despair were several
+men, and one slight shadow bound as it seemed to the mast--could it be a
+woman in that extremity? The hull was covered--the waters appeared to
+rise higher every moment.--There was a little knot of people on the
+sands--was there no help?
+
+Again the deadly illumination bursts over sea and sky. There is a figure
+struggling through the surge--you catch a glimpse of him--now fighting
+through the foam--now buffeting with the black waves. Anne and her
+companions are already on the sands; they see a strong rope trailing
+over the wet shore--the other end is fastened round the body of this
+brave man. The little knot on the shore is sternly silent--fearfully
+anxious. No one looks in the face of his neighbor they are watching with
+intense, unswerving gaze, the progress of that adventurer across the
+gloomy water. Even Anne scarcely notes that the gates of Schole stand
+open, and there are lights within!
+
+They see him again further in, when the next flash comes, fighting
+vigorously through the waves; the dark figures on the yards of the
+helpless ship have ceased to cry--they too are watching (who can tell
+with what agonies of fear and hope?) the speck that fights towards them
+through the turbid gloom of that dark sea.
+
+There is a long pause this time, between the lightning and its
+accompanying thunder. In the dense gloom they can discover nothing of
+his progress. They wait in intense anxiety for the next flash.
+
+The water is bathed in light again: he is returning. He carries an
+indistinct burden in one arm, guiding himself painfully as they can
+discern by the tightened rope. The men on shore assist him
+warily--another long buffeting--another breathless watch, and he has
+reached solid land again.
+
+Who is this man? Anne Ross's eyes are strained eagerly to discover. The
+light from a lantern streams on a woman carried in his arms; he did not
+wait to bring her fully to the land, but placing her in the hold of one
+of the lookers on, turned instantly back again--back through the gloomy,
+heaving, turbid water, to save more lives--to complete the work he had
+begun.
+
+Anne watched him toiling back again through surge and foam, so anxiously
+that she scarcely noted the burden he had brought from the wreck in his
+arms. Now a faint cry recalled her attention; the saved woman was a
+young mother clasping an infant convulsively to her breast. Two or three
+female figures were already kneeling round her--Miss Crankie, Jacky, and
+another.--Anne joined them; the third person was Christian Lillie.
+
+They could scarcely draw the child from the strained arms that clasped
+it; it was alive--nothing more. The agonized hold relaxed at last, and
+Miss Crankie received it from the mother.
+
+"Let us take her in," said Christian Lillie raising the young woman in
+her arms.
+
+She resisted feebly.
+
+"No--no till they're a' safe; no till I see Willie."
+
+Miss Crankie carried the child into Schole. Christian and Anne wrapped
+the young mother in a shawl, and supported her.--Her limbs were rigid
+with the terrible vigil. She gazed in agony towards the ship, and
+murmured:
+
+"He'll no leave it till the last; he'll no save himsel till a'body else
+is saved. Oh! the Lord keep him--Willie!--Willie!"
+
+And there they remained till six heroic voyages had been made to the
+helpless vessel. They were all saved at last. The last, the husband of
+the young woman, and captain of the ship, fighting his own way to the
+shore; he had more strength or nerve than the rest.
+
+And who had done it all? The light from the lantern streamed for a
+moment on his face--that pale susceptible face, whose delicate features
+spoke so eloquently the language of expression--the thin hair clung to
+his white temples; his eyes were shining with unnatural excitement--with
+something which looked like an unnatural vehemence of hope. It was
+Patrick Lillie!
+
+The bystanders and the saved men alike poured into Schole; they were all
+assembled in the large old-fashioned kitchen. Their deliverer had
+disappeared. Miss Crankie, alert and active, went about, briskly helping
+all. Christian was there, and Anne.--Seven lives in all had been saved
+by Patrick Lillie. The young wife of the captain lay almost insensible
+in an easy chair; she had borne the extremity of danger bravely, but
+now she sank--the over-strained nerves gave way--she could hardly answer
+the inquiries of her husband.
+
+By and by, under Christian's directions, he carried her to a small room
+upstairs, where a bed had been hastily prepared for her. Anne
+volunteered her attendance, and rendered it with all care and
+tenderness; she was left alone with the young mother, Christian and the
+captain of the ill-fated vessel in the meantime arranging for the
+accommodation of the men.
+
+The rigid limbs of Anne's patient relaxed at last; the chill was
+gradually overcome, and about an hour after they had been brought within
+the sheltering walls of Schole, Anne received the infant from Miss
+Crankie to satisfy the eager mother. The strangers by this time were
+gone; the shipwrecked men were accommodated as well as might be in the
+comfortable kitchen.--Miss Crankie herself, when there remained nothing
+further to be done, departed also--only Anne continued with her
+patient--she had not seen either Patrick or Christian again.
+
+Drawing the baby to her breast, the young mother soon fell into a
+refreshing sleep. Anne sat thoughtfully by her bed-side--now and then
+she heard a footstep below testifying that the household was still
+astir. She was anxious to remain as long as possible--to endeavor to
+open some communication with this singular brother and sister. For the
+moment she had forgotten Jean Miller's history, and shuddered and
+trembled as she remembered it--would they avoid her still?
+
+The room she occupied had a faded red curtain drawn along the further
+wall; she fancied she heard a low murmur as of some voice beyond it, and
+rose to see. The wall was a very thin partition which had evidently been
+put up in some emergency to make two rooms of one--immediately behind
+the curtain was a door standing ajar. Anne could see through into
+another room guarded like this by a curtain, placed there for some
+simple purpose of preventing a draft of air as it seemed, for each of
+the rooms had another door, and both entered from a gusty, windy
+gallery.
+
+And there was a voice proceeding from that outer room--a solitary voice,
+low-toned, and strange--it was reading aloud as it seemed, although its
+owner was evidently alone. "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to
+the poor, and if I have taken anything from any man by false accusation,
+I restore him fourfold."--Anne glanced back to see that her patient
+slept; she was lying in a calm slumber, luxuriously peaceful, and at
+rest. The low voice went on:
+
+"Not fourfold but sevenfold. Lord! Thou seest the offering in my hand.
+Thou who didst not reject this sinner of old times.--Thou who didst
+tread wearily that way to Jericho for this publican's sake, who was a
+son of Abraham. Lord, Lord, rejectest Thou me?--seven for one--wherefore
+did I toil for them, but to lay them at Thy feet--seven saved for one
+lost. Oh, Thou blessed One, where are Thy tender mercies--Thy loving
+kindnesses--wilt Thou shut thy heaven only to me?"
+
+There was a pause; the voice was broken and unsteady; the strange
+utterance passionate and solemn; it was resumed:
+
+"Not thy heaven, unless it be Thy will--not Thy glory or Thy
+gladness--only Thy forgiveness, merciful Lord, only one uplifting of Thy
+reconciled countenance. There is no light. I grope in the noonday, like
+a blind man, I cannot see Thee--I cannot see Thee! Lord, I confess my
+iniquity before Thee. Lord, I restore Thee sevenfold. Look upon my
+offering--seven for one! I bring them to Thy feet--seven saved for one
+lost! Lord of all tenderness--of all compassion, Thou most
+merciful--most mighty--is it I--is it I? Wilt Thou reject only me?"
+
+Anne stood fixed in silent, eager interest--she could not think of any
+evil in her listening. She was too deeply moved--too mightily concerned
+for that!
+
+"Thou knowest the past. Thou, who ordainest all things, dost know these
+fearful years. Blood for blood. Lord, thou hast seen mine agonies--Thou
+knowest how I have died a thousand times in this fearful, blighted life:
+look upon mine offering--I bring thee back sevenfold. Lord of mercy,
+cast me not away for evermore!"
+
+The voice ceased. Anne cast a tremulous glance from the edge of the
+curtain. He was sitting by a table, a Bible lying open before him. Large
+drops hung upon his thin, high forehead--his delicate features were
+moving in silent agonies of entreaty--a hot flush was on his cheek. He
+suddenly buried his face in his hands, and bowed it down upon the open
+Bible. Very fearful was this to see and hear! This living death of
+wakeful misery--this vain struggling to render with his own hands the
+atonement which he, of all men, needed most--while the great Evangel of
+divine love and tenderness, with its mightier offering and all-availing
+sacrifice, lay unapplied at his hands.
+
+Anne drew back in awe and reverence, and carefully closed the door--it
+was not meet that she should pry further into the secret agonies of this
+stricken and sinful spirit, as it poured itself forth before its God.
+She returned to the bedside, her head throbbing with dull pain, her
+heart full of darkness and anguish. Was it true?--was it indeed true?--a
+haunting fear no longer, but a deadly and hopeless reality!
+
+At intervals she heard the murmurings renewed, and watched in breathless
+anxiety then, lest her patient should wake--at length it ceased
+altogether. The young mother slept peacefully with her infant nestling
+in her arms--a strange contrast there was between the sleeper and the
+watcher--the one in delicious safety and rest, after deadliest
+peril--the other wading through a restless sea of grief and pain, to
+which there seemed neither shore nor boundary, involving agonies
+mightier than death.
+
+The night wore swiftly on--the morning rose as calm and sunny as if
+storms had never raged in the soft atmosphere which it gilded with its
+early sunbeams. Anne rose to look from the window--the Firth lay broad
+before her, still something moved and unquiet--rolling long waves upon
+the shore, and specked like the breast of some war-horse, with spots of
+foam. At a little distance, dashed against a bold, projecting cliff, the
+masts of the hapless vessel appeared through the dark water. Anne
+shuddered when she saw the white spars, rising so very short a way above
+the broad surface of the Firth. A little longer delay last night--a
+paroxysm of desperate energy a little less bold, and these hapless
+seamen, and this youthful mother, had been lying, far from all
+consciousness of earthly pain or pleasure, in the dark graves of the
+sea!
+
+Sevenfold--seven saved for one lost! Alas, was this all?--had he no hope
+but this?
+
+Anne's patient waked--she began to look about her confusedly--then she
+recollected herself: "Willie, Willie, where is he--is he safe?"
+
+Anne hastened to reassure her; but finding that she only partially
+succeeded, and hearing as she thought some one stirring below, she left
+the room to seek "Willie," to satisfy his anxious wife.
+
+In a small bare parlor below she found the serving-woman of the Lillies
+and Jacky--they had just made a fire, and Marget, with considerable
+grumbling, was preparing tea. Jacky, looking very dark, and pale, and
+wakeful, was moving about in her own intense stillness of nervous
+activity, discharging various pieces of work entrusted to her, and
+returning instantly to seek more.
+
+"I declare," exclaimed Marget, peevishly, as Anne reached the door,
+"ye're enough to pit a body daft. Afore ane can think ye're weel begun
+wi' ae turn, ye're seeking anither. Have ye washen a' the cups?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Marget looked back--the long array of gleaming earthenware spoke for
+itself. In anticipation of so many stranger guests, Marget had collected
+a dusty congregation of cups and saucers, out of the corners of a dark
+old pantry.
+
+"Do ye aye do your work as cleverly? Ye're a strange speerit o' a
+creature to get through a turn at that rate. Are ye aye as fast?"
+
+"Ay," said Jacky, bashfully, "when there's ony need."
+
+"I wadna like to be trysted to haud ye gaun. Ye wad be as ill to ser as
+Michael Scot's man. Get out yon muckle tray, and tak the dust aff't, and
+set down the cups--it's aye something. Eh, Mem, I beg your pardon!"
+
+This was addressed to Anne, whom Marget descried for the first time
+standing behind her. Anne asked where the young captain was.
+
+"Ye see, they're a' lying in the kitchen, puir creatures. It was the
+warmest place, and we made shake-downs to them as well as we could; and
+no to disturb them, I kindled my bit fire in here--and your lassie is
+very handy, Mem, and I'm muckle obliged to ye for letting her help me.
+Ye see I'll hae plenty on my hands wi' a' thae strangers, and trouble in
+the house forbye."
+
+"Is any one ill?" asked Anne, eagerly.
+
+"Ye see, it's just yin o' Mr. Patrick's ill turns. What was onybody to
+expect after the way he exposed himsel last night?--a frail man like him
+fighting through the sea as if he had been a giant--and he's waur than
+ordinar the day."
+
+"Can I see Miss Lillie?" said Anne.
+
+"Miss Kirstin's been at his bedside close, since ever we got the men
+sorted in the kitchen. She had to wile him out o' his ain room, because
+the young Captain's wife was in the next, and she was feared he would
+disturb her, and he's lying up in the west room. He'll no hear o' a
+doctor--maybe it's because he kens about physic himself--ony way he'll
+no have yin near him."
+
+"But Miss Lillie would see me perhaps, if you asked her," said Anne.
+
+"She's no fond o' onybody fashing her, when she's no wanting them," said
+Marget, "and it's ill my pairt to anger my mistress.--I've been here
+even on wi' her this sixteen year--I come frae Falkirk mysel, and dinna
+belang about this place--and a guid mistress she is, if she's no just
+like ither folk, And it's a lang trail up that weary stair when ane's
+breath is as short as mine--and--if ye have nae objection, Mem, I wad
+rather ye would wait till she comes down hersel. She'll be wanting
+something for Mr. Patrick before lang."
+
+"Will you ask the Captain of the ship to come to me then?" asked Anne.
+
+Marget went with some reluctance, and returned in a few minutes with the
+stalwart young Captain. Anne begged her to guide him to his wife's room,
+and then opening the outer door, stepped out herself into the garden for
+a moment's refreshment in the cool morning air.
+
+Fresh, bright, healthful, tinged and gilded with their young sunbeams,
+while everything around rejoiced in its lightsome breadth and purity,
+Anne almost fancied it strange that the joyous air did not shrink from
+these gray walls--so full of sin and grief--sorrow, remorse, and pain,
+that shrank from the eye of man, as they were.
+
+When she again entered the room where she had found Marget and Jacky,
+the young captain of the wrecked ship was there, somewhat tremulous and
+unsteady, poor fellow, after his meeting with his wife. They had been
+looking together from the window at the lost vessel with mingled
+thankfulness and regret. Anne began to speak to him.
+
+"The boat was a schooner--the William and Mary of Kincardine--homeward
+bound from the Baltic, with a cargo of timber. We've been water-logged
+for three weeks; drifting very much where the wind likit to drive us. If
+it had not been for the summer weather and lown winds, we must have
+perished before now; we've had a dreadful time--no that I care for a
+while of hardship myself--it like comes natural to a seafaring life--but
+Mary and the infant! I was saying to her the now, that she had better
+make up her mind, to let me go alone after this; I durst not put her in
+such peril again.
+
+"She seems to have borne it bravely," said Anne.
+
+"Ay, that she has," said the young man, his eyes glistening.--"It's
+often no the strongest and roughest like that can bear the most. For the
+bairn's sake and mine, and her mother's at hame, I believe she could
+have held out as long as myself. To be sure, we sheltered her, while
+shelter was possible, but that has not been for a while--and now she's
+less worn out than the men. It's a strange thing that, but I've seen the
+like of it before. They can stand work--plenty of it--but they canna
+both work and thole--and we have needed both."
+
+"It is very strange," said Anne, "almost all of them were stronger than
+their deliverer."
+
+"Ay it's no that," said the captain of the William and Mary, "it's the
+spirit that ever does anything. My men were stunned and helpless, worn
+out with the terrible watch they have kept for three weeks bye-past. The
+gentleman scarce so much as felt he had a body clothing him, when he saw
+our peril. It was the keen spirit that did it."
+
+Anne sighed. This unhappy man, borne down by his fearful secret, his
+life desolated by a great hidden crime, was a very angel of bravery and
+goodness to the men whose lives he had saved.--She asked:
+
+"Will the loss be great?"
+
+The young man's countenance fell.
+
+"No doubt it'll be heavy upon us. It's part my father's, and part mine.
+We built it just before I was married, as you would, maybe, notice by
+the name. My mother had aye a great wark with Mary, and she would have
+it called after us both. When the tide's out, we'll see better what's
+lost, and what may be saved. It's a mercy the cargo can take no scaith,
+being timber. Onyway it must be a heavy loss, but we may be thankful
+we're to the fore ourselves."
+
+Anne did not answer. At any other time, she would have sympathized
+warmly with this prepossessing, youthful couple. At present, her
+interest and thoughts were so engrossed, that any other feeling was
+faint within her.
+
+"Mary was speaking of coming down herself," said the young captain, "to
+thank you for your goodness. And the gentleman--I have not seen the
+gentleman!"
+
+"I hear he is ill," said Anne. "I am only a--a neighbor: but I hear Mr.
+Lillie's exertions have hurt him--he has been long an invalid."
+
+The young man said some words of respectful regret, and then left her to
+attend to his men. He wished to remove them as soon as possible--especially
+now, when he heard that there was sickness in the house.
+
+Marget, with a good deal of grumbling, was preparing a breakfast for
+them. Anne opened the door of a room on the opposite side of the
+hall--it was Patrick Lillie's study--and went in. She felt she had a
+right. In all the world, there was no family so closely connected with
+her as this.
+
+Upon the table, in the recess of the low projecting window, lay an old
+Latin book--others of a like nature were scattered round. Anne was
+sufficiently acquainted with old literature to see that some of these
+were rare and strange. A small pile, which she could fancy the daily and
+beloved companions of their owner, lay at one side. The upper one of the
+pile, was the "Imitatione Christi," of Thomas a Kempis, in the original
+Latin--the others were of the same contemplative cast. Old emblematic
+poems, full of devout conceits: old dialectic philosophy, subtle and
+shifting--a strange atmosphere for that fragile mind, with its sensitive
+beauty and feebleness, to breathe and dwell in.
+
+She was thinking of him--with her hands clasped over her eyes, and her
+head bowed down, she was trying to think what she could do--"looking
+forward as the aim and expectation of your life--almost, God help us--as
+your hope--for a thing which you knew would rend your heart, and make
+your life a desert when it came." The words returned before her
+constantly, blinding her mind and stilling it. She could do nothing.
+
+A hand was laid upon her shoulder. She looked up hastily--it was
+Christian Lillie. Her eyes were fixed upon Anne with a look of wistful
+inquiry: her tall figure was slightly bent. Anne saw more clearly than
+she had ever done before, how attenuated and worn out she was. Yet, in
+the melancholy face and shadowy frame, there was no trace of greater
+weariness than usual. She had been watching by a sick-bed all the
+night--and such a sick-bed!--but she thought of no rest, she evidenced
+no fatigue. You could fancy the soul within, so constantly awake and
+watching, that its thin robe of earthly covering needed not the common
+sustenance of feeble humanity.
+
+"What do you here?" said Christian Lillie, "this is no air for you to
+breathe--no roof to cover you. Let us bear our own burden as we best
+can; you must not try to render help to us--no, nor even sympathy--you
+must go from this fated house."
+
+Anne took into her own the thin hand which rested on her shoulder.
+
+"You must let me stay," she said eagerly. "I can take no dismissal--you
+must let me stay--no one else in this wide world could be beside you as
+I can be--save one. I must remain with you; I must share your
+labors--you cannot watch continually."
+
+"Watch!" said Christian, "I _have_ watched continually, without ceasing
+night or day. You can rest who are young--you who have known no deadly
+evil--what rest is there for me? Leave me to my own weird. God knows,
+who sent it, that He has sent patience also to bear its bitterness. It
+was long before that came, but I watched, and waited, and prayed for it
+dry-eyed: tears are not for me, unless it be the terrible ones that the
+heart weeps when it is wrung. You must go from this place; let us not
+throw the shadow of our desolation over another of your blood. You must
+go before you are blighted."
+
+"Do not fear me," said Anne, anxiously; "do not fear to trust me. Is not
+our sorrow the same--our hope the same? let me stay beside you."
+
+"The same--the same! God forbid that you knew what you were saying.
+There are agonies that folk may not lay the light name of sorrow upon.
+Be thankful that you know nothing sorer than grief; and if you would
+keep your hope alive, leave the house that contains us."
+
+"I cannot leave you; you must not ask me," said Anne; "I have a claim
+upon you. Do not you know better than I the bond that there is between
+us? I will not leave you."
+
+Christian Lillie walked through the room slowly, sadly, heavily; she
+made no answer; she seemed to acquiesce at last.
+
+For a time they both continued silent. Then Anne asked:
+
+"Is he ill? they told me he was ill."
+
+"_He!_" Christian paused; over the steadfast whiteness of her face there
+flushed an unnatural color. She gazed upon Anne; her wistful melancholy
+eyes dilating as it seemed in eager inquiry. "He!" she checked herself;
+it appeared to have flashed upon her that Anne knew something of their
+mighty secret greater than she had before thought. She controlled
+herself with an effort--"yes, he is ill; what can he be else but ill?"
+
+"I must return to him," she resumed, after an incoherent pause. "Stay
+with us, since you will stay; but mind I have warned you, that with us
+there can be nothing but desolation, and blight, and hopelessness. What
+depths you may fathom before we are parted, I know not. It may be that
+you are sent thither for that end. We walk darkling, but He sees the
+beginning and the end: let His will be done."
+
+She left the room--in a short time, Anne also quitted it. Marget was
+arranging in the kitchen the breakfast for the shipwrecked seamen. There
+was no scant or niggardly provision. The men, gaunt and famished-like,
+an uncouth company, were gathered about the table. In the little parlor
+sat the captain and his wife.
+
+"Miss Kirstin said I was to see they had plenty to their breakfast,"
+said Marget, deprecatingly, "and there wasna bread enough in the house;
+and I'm no sae young as I hae been mysel, forbye having a fashious
+hoast, and a sore shortness in my breath, sae I took the freedom to send
+your lass, because she was willing to gang, and I hope, Mem, ye'll no be
+angry."
+
+"By no means," said Anne. "Jacky will be glad to help you, I am sure."
+
+"She's a willing lassie," said Marget; "but if it werena that she's
+discreet, and does what she's bidden, I wad maist think she wasna canny.
+Preserve me! there she is already rattling at the gate; if she's been at
+Aberford, she maun hae flown."
+
+Jacky had only been at Miss Crankie's; she returned laden with
+provisions sent by Anne's kind, active, odd little landlady--there was a
+full supply. Anne herself joined the young captain and his wife in the
+little parlor.
+
+In the course of the day the forlorn crew of the "William and Mary,"
+considerably revived by their night's rest and shelter, left
+Schole--with much gratitude expressed and unexpressed. William and Mary
+themselves proceeded, with their infant, to the house of the husband's
+father. The men dispersed to their various homes.
+
+Anne remained--only once again during that day she saw Christian. Then
+she spoke less incoherently, with something indeed of singular
+gentleness, and an endeavor for the moment to forget her individual
+burden, as though her heart began to yearn for the sympathy of this
+younger sister. Patrick was very ill; he could not leave his bed.
+
+The next day told the same tale, and so did the next--and the next
+again. The illness increased. The fever and agitation of that night had
+wrought their due effect upon the delicate, enfeebled frame whenever the
+desperate tension and rigid strength of its nervous excitement failed.
+On the fourth day, Christian, who all this time had watched unceasingly,
+called the medical practitioner of the little town to her brother's
+bedside. Anne saw him as he passed down stairs, and asked eagerly for
+his patient; the doctor shook his head--he could give no hope.
+
+Anne spent the greater part of the day in Schole, returning to Miss
+Crankie's only for the night. Now, when Patrick's illness had increased
+so alarmingly, she could only exchange a passing word with Christian on
+the stair, or at the door of the sick-room. She had pleaded vainly for
+permission to help her in her tendance of the sufferer: failing in that,
+she gradually assumed the management of the household matters below. She
+lightened Christian's hands, at least so far.
+
+A week after the shipwreck, Anne entered Christian's room--the high
+turret chamber from which so often she had seen the reflected light
+gleaming upon the dark waters of the Firth--to wait for her coming. It
+was a still, dim, balmy night, soft and melancholy. There was always a
+great attraction in that broad Firth at their feet--a kind of wandering
+freedom for the overcharged heavy hearts gazing forth upon it. The
+rounded window was veiled by an old-fashioned, faded curtain: within
+this there was a seat which Christian Lillie had occupied for more
+lingering woeful nights than we could count or record. Anne seated
+herself there, and looked out in the dim gloaming upon the silent land,
+and gleaming sea.
+
+By-and-by she heard the slow, sad footstep enter, and sat still, in
+expectation of being joined immediately--for Christian, like herself,
+continually sought these windows; continually calmed her sorrow in the
+wide tranquillity and balmy peace that lay around.
+
+"Give him to me for a prey. Lord, give him to me for a prey," were the
+strange words that came to Anne's ear, falling low through the tremulous
+darkness; "I ask not for his life. Thou knowest that I ask not for his
+life. My Father, wilt Thou not hear? wilt Thou forget the prayers that
+have risen to Thee day by day and night by night since Thou didst hide
+Thy countenance from us? My Lord! hast Thou said any word in vain? shall
+any promise be forgotten before Thee?"
+
+The listener sat still in awe; she dared not interrupt this agony of
+supplication with any token of her presence.
+
+Christian was pacing the room quickly, with tremulous step, and
+passionate low voice, too mightily absorbed to think of form or posture.
+
+"If it be Thy will--Thy will--and Thy will is to seek and save the lost;
+and this is lost in sin, in blindness, and the deep gloom of unbelief,
+and it was such that Thou camest to save--such, and not the righteous.
+It is Thy will--it is Thy will. Grant me Thy will of salvation to this
+sinner--Lord! Lord!"
+
+She paused; she threw herself on her knees; there was an indefinite
+sound of entreaty--groaning that could not be uttered.--Then she started
+to her feet again, and the words poured forth aloud, as one who finds a
+new argument and can scarce pause for language in which to state and
+plead it.
+
+"Thou who art a man! Thou who bearest a human heart in Thy high heaven!
+Thou who hast entreated, and yearned, and wept over sinful brethren,
+whom the adversary sifted as wheat! Thou, O Lord! who wearest Thy
+humanity upon Thy throne!--he is a sinner--so were they whom Thou didst
+call Thy friends.--He hath denied Thee--so did he, for whom Thy holy
+lips prayed, that his faith might not fail. My Lord!--my Lord!--thou
+hearest always. Look down upon us, and send us deliverance."
+
+She sat down; she put back her wet hair, and wiped the heavy dew from
+her forehead. Then she clasped her hands over her brow.
+
+"Not life--not joy--not temporal deliverance--whatsoever is in Thy hands
+is well--be it to us as seemeth good to Thee. But light, O, my Father!
+light to this darkness--deliverance to this bondman--the grace of Thine
+infinite mercy--the touch of Thy divine compassion. Lord, if Thou wilt,
+Thou canst deliver him."
+
+There was a faint call from another room. Christian Lillie paused for a
+moment to compose her agitated features, and then hastened to the
+restless sick-bed. Anne Ross sat still at the high turret window,
+looking out through silent tears upon the dim country, and the gleaming
+sea.
+
+That sky serene, and calm, and boundless, beholding all beneath its
+infinite extent--that mighty eye above, looking down amid the countless
+myriads of its universe, as certainly upon the untold agonies of this
+house as if all humanity were centered there--that One, at the right
+hand of the Father, who, in the might of His eternal Godhead, doth dwell
+in heaven--a man! The appeal of the broken heart was to these; and they
+do not fail to answer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+
+Wearily, mocking sick hearts with their floods of brightness, the summer
+days stole on. The house of Schole gaunt and melancholy, stood shrined
+in the full glory of that sunshine. The dark figures within wandered
+about in restless pain, like ghosts uncongenial to the light, or gazed
+forth with vacant eyes upon the rejoicing country, and dazzling sea. In
+the sick chamber lay that restless, suffering man, wending unconsciously
+nearer and nearer the valley of the shadow of death.
+
+The doctor from the little town had visited him repeatedly.--Nearly a
+fortnight after the wreck, he had a final conversation with Christian.
+Anne was watching eagerly in Patrick Lillie's study. Christian
+accompanied the doctor to the door, and answered his subdued and
+sorrowful farewell; then she entered the study. Anne looked up anxiously
+in her face.
+
+"The time has come," said Christian, solemnly, "there is no hope of his
+life. He has but a little way to go, and yet he knows not the only
+entrance. God succor us--what can we do alone? Come with me--now there
+is no longer any obstacle or hindrance--come with me."
+
+Anne followed her silently. The room in which Patrick lay was high, and
+had also windows looking on the water--that broad placid, noble Firth,
+the sole companion of the watcher.
+
+Wan and wasted, with only the hectic spot burning on his cheek to
+distinguish it from the pillow on which it uneasily rested, lay the
+dying man. Cold, wasting, death-like perspiration lay heavily upon his
+brow; his long, white hand and emaciated arm were stretched upon the
+coverlet with a power of nervous motion in them, which contrasted
+strangely with their color and form of death.
+
+On a small table beside him lay a paper closely written. Near at hand
+were writing materials. His eyes were fixed upon the manuscript--he did
+not seem to notice the entrance of Christian and Anne. He was speaking
+in broken sentences, with incoherent intervals between.
+
+"Sevenfold--sevenfold. Thou God of mighty justice! Thou Lord of holy
+revenge! What can a sinful man do more? Not an old man, O, Lord! not a
+little child; seven lives in their prime--seven full of health, and
+strength, and hopefulness--seven saved for one lost. Lord of mercy, wilt
+Thou accept them! what can I more?"
+
+"Patrick," said Christian Lillie, "if the whole world had lain perishing
+at your feet, what more than urgent need was it to save them all; the
+seven will not atone for the one. If ye have no other atonement to
+offer, then the blood is still crying upon God for vengeance."
+
+"Christian," exclaimed the dying man, "what can I do?--what shall I do?
+They tell me I am near the hour of judgment; will you thrust away my
+last plea?--will ye deny me my last hope? Did He not accept the publican
+who restored fourfold? Behold my offering, O, Lord, and be merciful--be
+merciful! I have toiled through all this terrible life--labored, and
+groaned, and fainted for the uplifting of Thy countenance--and shall I
+go away in darkness, and wilt Thou show me no more light at all for
+ever? Lord! Lord!"
+
+The thin, worn arms were lifted in passionate appeal--the long white
+fingers clasped--the wasted face convulsed with despairing earnestness.
+Christian Lillie knelt by her brother's bedside.
+
+"Mercy and light, Patrick--mercy and light! our Father in heaven does
+not give them for a hire. Take them out of a gracious hand that has paid
+a bitter price for the gifts--take them, Patrick. Take them from Him who
+has made the sole sacrifice that can stand in the sight of God. Blood
+for blood."
+
+"Blood for blood!" said Patrick Lillie, with a wild shudder. "Blood for
+blood! has it come to this end? Christian, I have been laboring to make
+amends--I have labored in vain: let me pay the price now at last--there
+may be peace then. Let me away--let me away--I will pay the price--a
+life for a life!"
+
+He was struggling to rise--his emaciated features shining wildly with
+his desperate purpose. Christian's arms were stretched over him,
+subduing the frenzy.
+
+"Patrick," she said, solemnly, "in a little while the Lord will recall
+the life He has sent so fearful a shadow on. A day or two--maybe only an
+hour or two--and in this ghastly noon of ours, which is more terrible
+than the darkest midnight, the sun of your life must go down. The Lord
+is taking the price with his own hand. Patrick, let me but know that you
+are grounded on the one rock--that ye can see the one sacrifice."
+
+The unhappy sufferer sank back exhausted.
+
+"'Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed.'
+Christian, it is a just sentence--take me away--I see it--I see it--it
+is what no mercy can wipe out--no grace forgive--it must be atoned for.
+Ye hear me, Christian! the price must be paid. If ye would have hope in
+my death, take me away."
+
+"It is a just sentence," said Christian Lillie, firmly. "Just in the
+sight of God and man--I say not that there needs no public atonement;
+but ye cannot pay it now--and I say that for your life, your higher
+life, Patrick, an atonement has been made. Do you forget Him that died
+at Jerusalem? they ranked him with murderers--was He one? He was
+accursed for the shedders of blood. Throw but your sin upon Him--rest
+but your soul upon Him, and I will have hope in your death--ay! such
+hope as will cover all the by-gone darkness with a mist of radiance;
+only let me know that you are safe in His shadow--strong in His faith,
+and I am content."
+
+"I have slain a man to my bruising, and a young man to my hurt,"
+murmured the dying man, "and I should--God forgive me that I have
+shrunk and trembled from this fearful penalty--I should pay back blood
+for blood in the sight of man. Christian, hear me: I acknowledge Him, my
+Saviour--my Lord--my King. I acknowledge His work--only not for
+this--for this I must render justice in the sight of men. Let me go--I
+have trembled for it all these dreadful years--I have hid me from the
+very sunshine for its fear--I have doomed them--God bless them! God, out
+of his gracious heaven, send down the blessings of the covenant upon
+them! whom I shall never look upon in this world again--to exile and
+shame for me. Christian, let me go--I see it all now--my eyes are
+opened. Let me pay the price--then there may be peace; whoso sheddeth
+man's blood--Christian, let me go!"
+
+"Patrick," said Christian Lillie, "you have told me when your mind was
+clear that this deed was not wilful, nor springing from a heart of evil
+against him that is gone. Tell me again. Patrick!--do you mind how he
+fled into the sacred city in the ancient Israel, who had shed blood
+unawares, and there was safe? Can you see? is there no shadow before
+your eyes? Can you tell me? Patrick, you shed this blood unawares."
+
+A wild gleam shot over the sick man's death-like face. His lips
+moved--he shut them convulsively as though to keep down some thrill of
+agony.
+
+"I cannot tell--I cannot tell. God help me--there is nothing clear; that
+I did it--that I took away the divine mysterious life which all the
+universe could not give back again--Christian, Christian, it will make
+me mad--the remembrance of it has gone near to make me mad a thousand
+times. Oh, that my life had been taken instead! oh, that he had slain
+me, and not I him!"
+
+Christian knelt by his bedside holding his hand--he became calmer.
+
+"Lord, show it to me--show me the past--show me what is to come. I was
+angry with my brother in my heart--I cannot see--I cannot tell, if the
+fiend was within me then. Christian, have _they_ not suffered a death
+for me?--have I not slain them in cold blood with my fear and cowardice!
+I will do them justice--I will bear my own sin. Let me go."
+
+He sat up in his bed, his excitement giving nervous strength to his
+wasted frame; as he rose he saw Anne for the first time--she stood awed
+and wondering by the door.
+
+The unhappy man threw himself back upon his pillow, covering his face.
+
+"Send her away. Do you want to kill me--do you want to betray me,
+Christian? Send her away."
+
+Christian Lillie made a motion with her hand, and Anne withdrew. Most
+strange, and sad, and terrible was this scene; this unhappy sufferer
+enduring in those agonies so intense a retribution--eager to do justice
+on his death-bed, and yet shrinking from the sight of her who might
+bring that justice speedily upon him--her, the sister of the injured
+Norman, who would not have inflicted another pang upon the man for whom
+her generous brother had sacrificed his all.
+
+She did not see Christian again that day: during all its long, weary,
+sunny hours, Christian remained constantly by that sick-bed--through the
+shorter watches of the balmy and tranquil night her vigil continued;
+those melancholy wistful eyes never closed in slumber; that gaunt,
+attenuated frame sought neither rest nor nourishment; the agony of
+eighteen years had come to a climax; the heroic work of all her desolate
+lifetime was drawing to an end.
+
+Anne did not leave the house till late that evening; she could hear the
+sound of voices in the sick chamber, and Christian's slow step sometimes
+traversing it, when she went away. In the morning she returned early.
+Christian was in her own room, as Anne could hear, while she sat in the
+apartment below--sometimes kneeling--sometimes pacing it slow and
+heavily as was her wont, and sometimes with the agitated quick step,
+which she had heard before during the short time in which she witnessed
+Christian Lillie's supplications. Her patient was for the time asleep.
+She was there, not resting nor seeking rest, absorbed in the unutterable
+earnestness of her pleadings, wrestling with God for a blessing.
+
+The day glided on, so slow--so wearily, with but the drowsy ripples of
+the sea, the steady, cold, immovable beating of that strange pulse of
+Time, whose sound fatigues the anxious ear so miserably, and the
+irregular, agitated throbs of her own heart, to fill its languid
+lingering hours, that Anne sickened when she looked abroad upon its
+cloudless radiance. Then those books of Patrick Lillie's fascinated
+while they irked and pained her--the pensive, contemplative tone--the
+microscopic, inward-looking eye--the atmosphere of monastic quietude and
+meditative death! She was in no mood for studying character, yet she
+felt how strangely constituted the spirit must have been which found its
+daily ailment in these.
+
+Had he done that deed and yet was he not guilty? Did he stand in the
+position of the manslayer, for whom God's stern law of olden vengeance,
+in one of those exquisite shadings of mercy, which mark the unchanging
+unity of our Gospel Lord and Saviour--ordained through ancient
+Palestine, the sacred cities of refuge? Had he shed this blood unawares?
+and whence then came the terrible mist which had gathered in his memory
+about the deed? Was it possible that he could be uncertain of
+himself?--that he could have forgotten those momentous circumstances?
+or had his long-diseased brooding over them made imagination and fact
+stand in his remembrance side by side?
+
+At last, the weary day declined. Christian Lillie came to her at sunset,
+and with few words, bade her follow to the sick room again. Anne obeyed.
+
+It was very near now, that awful peace of Death. The emaciated face was
+sharp and fixed--the stamp was upon his forehead. A little time now, and
+all earthly agony would be over for him.
+
+But there was a tranquil shadow on his face, and the large caverns of
+Christian's eyes were full of dew, which did not fall, but yet had risen
+to refresh the burning lids which had kept watch so long. The manuscript
+was upon the table still--the thin arm lay quietly on the coverlet. A
+slight shudder passed across his frame as Anne entered; an involuntary
+thrill of that coward fear which had overwhelmed his nature. Then he
+turned his eyes upon her with a steadfast, melancholy, lingering look,
+failing sometimes for a moment as the slow blood crept coldly to his
+heart in another pang of terror; but renewed again--a sorrowful look of
+lingering, clinging tenderness, as though he saw in her face the shadow
+of another--the generous glance of one dearly beloved long ago, who had
+given up name, and wealth, and honor for his sake.
+
+"Christian," he said, "Christian, it comes. I feel that I am entering
+the dark valley. What I have to do, let me do quickly.--Raise me up."
+
+She lifted him in her arms--in her strong devotion she might have borne
+a threefold weight--the dying man was like an infant in her hands.
+
+He took the pen she offered him into his unsteady fingers, and began, in
+feeble characters, to trace his name at the bottom of the manuscript.
+While he did so, he murmured broken words.
+
+"I am guilty--I am guilty! I only. Lord, Thou knowest who hast saved me!
+Only his tenderness, like Thine--only his gracious heart, Thy true
+follower, has screened me, a miserable sinner, from the doom of the
+slayer! It is I only--my Lord, Thou knowest it is I!"
+
+He had signed his name. Christian laid him back tenderly upon the
+pillow. With a firm hand she placed her own signature at the side of the
+document, and then gave the pen to Anne. The sister of the man who had
+done the deed, and the sister of him who had suffered for it--it was
+meet their names should stand together. Anne added hers. She could form
+some idea, of what this paper was. She signed it as a witness.
+
+The words of the dying man ran on--a feeble, murmuring stream.
+
+"Christian! he is alive--he is safe! No evil has come upon them! Tell me
+again--tell me again! They do not curse me--they forgive the miserable
+man who has made them exiles? It is over now, Christian. All your
+anguish--all your vigils: their disgrace and banishment--it is over now.
+God knows, who has visited me with His mercy and His light, why this
+desolation has fallen upon you all for my sin. I have been a coward.
+Christian, Christian! when they are home in their joyous household--when
+they have forgotten all their grief and dishonor, when they are tranquil
+and at rest--they will never name my name; my memory will be a thing of
+shame and fear: they will shrink from me in my grave."
+
+The thin hands met in silent appeal. There was a wistful, deprecating
+glance thrown upon Anne and Christian.
+
+"Patrick," said Christian, "can _we_ ever shrink from you, who have been
+willing, for your sake, to endure the hardest calamity that could be
+thrown upon man? Can _they_ forget your name, who have lost their own
+for your sake, and never murmured? Patrick! look upon his sister. She
+has come to us in our sorest trouble; she has clung to us with her
+tenderest service, as if we had blessed him, and not blighted. Take your
+comfort from her. As for me, my labor is over. I will live to see
+Marion. I must, if it be the Lord's will--but for forgetfulness, or
+shame, or shrinking, ye never thought of me!"
+
+Anne stood by the bedside. The eyes of the dying man, so intensely blue,
+and strangely clear, were shining wistfully upon her. She could not find
+words to speak to him.
+
+"Mind them of me," said Patrick Lillie, faintly. "Tell them, that if
+they have suffered pain for me, they never can know what agony, bitterer
+than death, I have endured within this desolate house. Bid them mind me
+as I was, in yon bright, far away time, that I have been dwelling in
+again this day. Tell them, the Lord has given me back my hope, that He
+gave me first in my youth. Tell them, I am in His hand, who never loses
+the feeblest of His flock. Tell them--"
+
+He was exhausted--the breath came in painful grasps.
+
+"Do not fear," said Anne, gently. "We will remember you in all
+tenderness, with sorrow and with reverence. I will answer for Norman."
+
+"For Norman!" said the dying man. "All blessings on the name that I have
+not dared to say for years! The blessing of my God upon him, who has
+been separated from his brethren. Norman! Marion! They have suffered in
+exile and in grief for me. Tell them, that with my last breath, I bade
+God bless them--God bless them! They have done as my Lord did--they have
+suffered for the guilty--and He will acknowledge His own."
+
+There was a pause. His breath came painfully. The hectic on his cheek
+flushed deeper. Christian made a gesture with her hand to Anne,
+dismissing her. He saw it.
+
+"Stay," he said, "stay--my work is not yet done. Christian, hear me;
+when I have said this, I will take my journey in peace. My eyes are
+clear now. I dare look back to that terrible time. I did it unawares.
+The blood on my hand was not wilfully shed; ye hear me, ye trust me,
+Christian! I had that deadly weapon in my hand; my mind was far away as
+it often was. I was thinking of the two, and of their bright lot; my eye
+caught something dark among the trees. I thought it was a bird.
+Christian, it was the head of Arthur Aytoun, the man that I was hating
+in my heart! I came home; my soul was blinded within me. I was as
+innocent of wish to harm him as was the water at my feet; but yet in my
+inmost heart long before, I had been angry with my brother! My soul was
+blind; now I see, for the Lord has visited me with His mercy. You know
+all now. I have sinned; but I did this unawares, and into His city of
+refuge, my Lord has received my soul."
+
+The shadows were gathering--darker, closer--the face becoming deadly
+white. His breath came with less painful effort, but the end was at
+hand. He made a sign which Christian knew. She lifted a Bible, and began
+to read. Anne stood behind in silent awe, as the low voice rose through
+that dim room, whose occupant stood upon the eternal brink so near an
+unseen world. "There is, therefore, now no condemnation." Wondrous
+words! spanning all this chaos of human sin and feebleness with their
+heavenward bridge of strong security.
+
+Christian read on calmly, solemnly while the slow life ebbed wave by
+wave. She had reached the end.
+
+"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or
+distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
+Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that
+loved us. For--"
+
+She was stayed by the outstretching of that worn and wasted hand. A
+strange shrill voice, unnaturally clear, took up the words:
+
+"I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
+principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor
+height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate me
+from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus my Lord."
+
+Christian sprang forward to support him. He needed no support. In the
+might of that one certain thing, of which he was at last persuaded, the
+spirit of Patrick Lillie had ascended into his Saviour's heaven.
+
+A pale, feeble, worn-out garment, over which no longer the fluctuating
+fever of a wavering mind should sweep and burn--a fair, cold face, whose
+gentle features could answer no longer to the thousand changes of that
+delicate and tremulous soul, Christian laid back upon the pillow--no
+longer restless, or ill at ease, or fearful, but sleeping peaceful
+sleep--tranquil and calm at last!
+
+And she stood by his bedside who had borne, through all these dreadful
+years, the strong tenacious life of deadly agony for him. As pale as
+his, was the thin, worn face bending over him; for a moment she listened
+with that intensest pain of watching, which seems to make the listener
+blind, and concentrates all the senses in that one--listening for the
+faint fall of his breath. It was in vain: those pale lips, until the
+great day of resurrection, should draw breath again--never more.
+
+"I thank God," said Christian Lillie, in the solemn calm of that
+death-chamber; "I thank God, Patrick, my brother, that you are safe, and
+at rest. Safe after perils greater than time could wear out. At rest
+after the hourly warfare and deadly travail of a lifetime--I thank God.
+My Father!--my Father! I thank Thee, who rejectest no petition, that
+Thou hast heard my cry!"
+
+Her hands were clasped. Anne feared they were becoming rigid in the
+attitude of supplication so common to them. She laid her hand upon
+Christian's arm.
+
+"Ay, I will not linger," said Christian, "but look at him--look at him
+at peace, and blessed at last. Do you see my tears? I have not shed one
+since yon June morning, but now I can weep. I will not linger; but can
+you not feel the blessedness of seeing his salvation--his rest in the
+fair haven--his solemn peace at last? I thank God, Patrick--I thank
+God!"
+
+"You are worn out," said Anne, gently; "come now and take rest--leave
+the further cares of this sad time to me."
+
+The tears were falling from her eyes like large soft rain-drops; there
+was a quivering, woeful smile about her lip.
+
+"Ay, ay, I will go; I have one work yet for his sake, and theirs. At
+peace in the pure heaven of our Lord and Saviour--at rest. In hope and
+certainty that nothing can shake again, look how he has begun his
+tranquil waiting for the second coming. He is with his Lord, and I--yes,
+I will go and rest. Here I take up again the human hope that has been
+dead within me for eighteen lingering years; it died by him, and by him
+it is alive again. I will go and take rest for my labor. I trust him to
+your hands; I have never trusted him before in the care of any mortal.
+Now, I must rest for Norman's sake, and you will watch for Patrick's; I
+trust him to you."
+
+And so, at last Anne was able to lead her to her own chamber. The
+tension of mind and frame had been so long and stern, that now, when it
+was relaxed, Anne trembled for the issue; but Christian had borne all
+the vicissitudes of mental agony too long to sink now when there still
+remained labor to do "for his sake, and theirs." She suffered Anne's
+attendance with a strange child-like gentleness, as of one whose own
+long task is over; and while she lay down upon her bed, continued to
+speak of that blessed rest and peacefulness with a tremulous quivering
+smile, and wandering of thought which brought the tears fast from Anne's
+eyes.--Deeply pitiful and moving was this pathetic garment of her grief.
+
+At last, sleep was mercifully sent, such sleep as God gives to His
+beloved--calm, serene, and child-like--the sad smile trembling upon her
+lip--the mild tears stealing from under her closed eyelids, and her soul
+the while carried back to times of past tranquillity--the peace and
+gentle joyousness of the old cottage home.
+
+From Christian's bedside, Anne proceeded to a sadder work; a work too
+painful and repugnant for anything but callous habit, or deep
+tenderness. She called up the old serving-woman, and together they
+rendered the last offices to the dead.
+
+The solemn, calm, majestic, awful dead, in whose still presence, were he
+in life the meanest, the princeliest soul of earth must stoop and bow.
+Strange doom which, with its sad mysterious ending, can make the meanest
+lifetime a sublime, unequalled thing! Strange death which, in its
+ghostly silence, can thrust so lightly the vain speculations of man
+aside, and make our mortal flesh shrink and tremble from the thrilling
+power of unseen life, that moves behind the curtain of its gloom. What
+man shall stand in its presence, and dare to say that this is the end?
+What man shall look upon its majesty, and tell us that is the mere death
+at which he thrills and shivers? It is not so--mightier, more terrible
+and great--it is the supernatural glow of an unseen life beyond that
+thus appals us.
+
+The moonbeams glided over the Firth in spiritual stillness.--The
+necessary offices were done, and Anne and Marget sat down in a small
+adjoining room to watch. The old woman began to nod in her chair; this
+was to her but an ordinary death, and death to those who are accustomed
+to assist at its dread ceremonials, loses its awe and solemnity. Anne
+opened the window as the sun rose, and bathed her pale face in the
+delicious air of the morning. Under her sadness and awe a solemn joy was
+trembling.--Her work was accomplished--now for the exile's
+home-coming--for household rest and companionship--for communion with
+the near and dear kindred over whom her heart had yearned so long.
+
+The country was beginning to awake: the early morning labor of those
+rural people had commenced. She could see smoke rising from the
+indistinct dim towns on the Fife coast.--She awoke her companion, and
+then went softly into Christian's room.
+
+But Christian was gone; her Bible lay open upon the table, where she had
+sought its comfort when she rose. Her plain black silk cloak and bonnet
+had been taken away. Anne began to be alarmed; where could she be?
+
+In the chamber of death she was not. Anne fancied she could perceive
+some trace of her having entered the room, but they had watched in the
+adjoining apartment, and Anne knew that she had been wakeful. She
+hurried down stairs and searched the rooms below: Christian was not to
+be found.
+
+Looking through the low window of the study, she saw Jacky standing at
+the gate, and hastened to admit her. The girl was shivering with intense
+anxiety, and alarm--she had been standing there for more than an hour.
+On the previous night, she had haunted the precincts of Schole in fear
+and trembling for her mistress, and had been abruptly dismissed by
+Marget, with a fretful explanation that "Maister Patrick was in the
+deadthraw"--since then she had been watching at the window of Miss
+Crankie's parlor. Now, she was awe-stricken, speaking below her breath,
+and letting fall now and then silent, solitary, large tears. She had
+never been in the shadow of death before, and her imaginative spirit
+bowed before its majesty.
+
+"Jacky," said Anne, "he is dead."
+
+Jacky did not answer--she only glanced a timid, wistful, upward look out
+of those keen, dark eyes of hers, dilated and softened with her
+sympathy.
+
+"You will come in and stay with me, Jacky," said Anne. "I must remain
+here for some days--you are not afraid?"
+
+Afraid! no. Jacky was stricken with awe and sad reverence, but not with
+fear.
+
+"I do not well know what to do, Jacky," said Anne, thoughtfully. "Miss
+Lillie seems to have wandered out: I cannot find her."
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne, I saw her."
+
+"Where, Jacky?"
+
+"I was standing at the window looking out--it was just at the
+sun-rising--and I saw the gate of Schole opened canny, and Miss Lillie
+came out. She was just as she aye is, only there was a big veil over her
+face, and she took the Aberford road; and she didna walk slow as she
+does at common times, but was travelling ower the sands as fast as a
+spirit--as if it was a great errand she was on; naebody could have
+walkit yon way that hadna something urging them, and I thought then that
+Mr. Patrick was dead."
+
+Anne did not observe Jacky's reflections and inferences--she was too
+much occupied in speculations as to Christian's errand.
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne, would ye no go up to your ain room and lie
+down? I'll stay and keep a'thing quiet."
+
+"I must see Miss Crankie," said Anne. "The air will revive me, Jacky,
+and I could not rest. In the meantime, you must stay at Schole, and see
+that no one disturbs the stillness that belongs to this solemn vicinity.
+We should have reverenced him living--we must reverence him more sadly
+dead."
+
+Jacky was overcome--her eyes were flooded--she needed to make no
+promise. Anne's charge to her was given in consequence of some grumbling
+threat of Marget's to "get in some o' the neighbors--no to be our lane
+wi' the corp." Anne was determined that there should be no unseemly
+visits, or vulgar investigation of the remains of one who had shrunk
+from all contact with the world so jealously.
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne--"
+
+Anne had put on her bonnet, and stood at the gate on her way out.
+
+"What is it, Jacky?"
+
+Jacky hung her head in shy awkwardness.
+
+"It was just naething, Miss Anne."
+
+Anne comprehended what the "just naething" was, and, understanding the
+singular interest and delicate sympathy of this elfin attendant of hers,
+knew also how perfectly she was to be trusted.
+
+"Jacky," she said, "what I tell you, you will never tell again, I know:
+this gentleman who died last night was nearly connected with us--if
+Marget asks you any questions, you can tell her that; and my work is
+accomplished here--accomplished in sorrow and in hope. By-and-by my
+brother of whom you have heard, will come home I trust, in peace and
+honor, to his own house and lands.--The work we came here for is done."
+
+Jacky was tremulously proud, but she had yet another question.
+
+"And if ye please, Miss Anne--little Miss Lilie?"
+
+A radiant light came into Anne's eye. It was the first time she had
+dared to speak of the near relationships with which she now hoped to be
+surrounded.
+
+"Lilie is my niece--my brother's child--I believe and hope so, Jacky."
+
+Jacky's first impulse was to turn her back on Schole, and flee without a
+moment's delay to Oranside. She recollected herself, however; she only
+sat down on the mossy garden-path, and indulged in a fit of joyous
+crying--pride, and exultation, and affection, all contributing their
+part. "For I kent," said Jacky to herself, tremulously, when Anne was
+gone, "I aye kent she was like somebody--a' but the e'en--and it would
+be her mother's e'en!"
+
+But Jacky recollected her charge--recollected the solemn tenant who lay
+within those walls, and became graver. Marget was sitting in the kitchen
+when she entered, refreshing herself with a cup of tea. Their
+salutations were laconic enough.
+
+"Is that you, lass?" said Marget.
+
+"Yes, it's me," said Jacky. "Miss Anne said I was to come in and stay;
+and she'll be back soon hersel."
+
+"And wha's Miss Anne that's taking sae muckle fash wi' this puir
+afflicted family?" said Marget. "Are ye ony friend to us, lassie? or
+what gars your mistress and you come into our house, this gate?"
+
+"Miss Anne says Miss Lillie is a friend. I think it's maybe by ither
+friends being married, but I dinna ken--only that they're
+connected--Miss Anne said that."
+
+"And what do they ca' ye?" continued Marget.
+
+"They ca' me Jacobina Morison--I was christened that after my uncle--but
+I aye get Jacky at hame; and they ca' Miss Anne, Miss Ross, of
+Merkland."
+
+"She'll be frae the north country," said Marget. "I never heard o' ony
+Norland freends Miss Kirstin had. Onyway it maun be for love ony fremd
+person taks heed o' us--for it canna be for siller. They're a strange
+family. Ye see the breath was scarce out o' Maister Patrick, puir
+lamb--he was liker a bairn, than a man of years at ony time--when Miss
+Kirstin she gaed away. I saw your leddy seeking her--whaur she's gane,
+guid kens."
+
+"Did she ever do that before?" asked Jacky.
+
+"Eh, bless me, no: she was aye ower feared about _him_, puir man, wha
+has won out o' a' trouble this night. Maybe ye wad like to see him? He's
+a bonnie--"
+
+Jacky interrupted her hurriedly. In that imaginative, solemn awe of
+hers, she could not endure the ghastly admiration which one hears so
+often expressed by persons of Marget's class for the dead, about whom
+they have been employed.
+
+"Ye'll be wearied?" said Jacky, hastily.
+
+"Ay, lass, I'm wearied: it's no like I could be onything else wi' a'
+that I have to do--and that sair hoast, and the constant fecht I hae wi'
+my breath--it's little the like o' you ken--forbye being my lane in the
+house. If ye'll just bide and look to the door, I'll gang an get some o'
+the neighbor wives to come in beside me: there's nae saying when Miss
+Kirstin may be hame."
+
+"Miss Anne's coming hersel," said Jacky, eagerly. "And if ye would lie
+down and get some rest, I'll do the work--and I'm no feared to be my
+lane--and if ye had a guid sleep, ye would be the better o't."
+
+"I'll no' say but what I would," said Marget, graciously; "and ye're a
+considerate lass to think o't. Tak a cup o' tea--it's no right to gang
+out in the morning fasting--and I daresay I'll just tak your counsel.
+It doesna do for an auld body like me to be out o' my bed a' night."
+
+So Jacky got Marget disposed of, and remained with much awe, and some
+shadow of superstitious fear, alone within the house of
+Schole--supported by the sunshine round about her as she lingered at the
+door--for Marget, in decent reverence, had drawn a simple curtain across
+the window. The other rooms were shuttered and dark--the natural homage
+of seemly awe and gravity in the presence of death.
+
+Anne had no difficulty in inducing Miss Crankie to take upon her those
+matters of sad external business, which she herself was not qualified to
+manage. With more delicacy than she expected, Miss Crankie undertook
+them immediately. Mrs. Yammer was "in sore distress with rheumatics in
+my back, and my head like to split in twa wi' the ticdoloureux--and it's
+a' yon awfu' nicht--and I dinna believes Miss Ross, I'll ever get the
+better o't.--Johann and you, that are strong folk, fleeing out into the
+storm, and me, a puir weak creature, left, to fend my lane--forbye being
+like to gang out o' my judgment wi' fricht, for you and the perishing
+creatures in the ship. Eh! wha would have thought of a weak man like yon
+saving them--and so he's ta'en to his rest! Weel I'm sure, Miss Ross,
+you've been uncommon kind to them--they canna say but they've found a
+friend in need."
+
+"They are my relatives," said Anne: "I mean we are nearly connected."
+
+Miss Crankie opened her little dark eyes wide. Mrs. Yammer began, with
+an astonished exclamation, to recollect the pedigree of the Lillies, and
+acquaint herself with this strange relationship.--Her sister stopped her
+abruptly.
+
+"Take your breakfast, Tammie, and dinna haver nonsense. Is Kirstin
+content, Miss Ross, to have ye biding in her house?"
+
+"Quite content," said Anne.
+
+Miss Crankie's eyes opened wider. She began with a rapid logic, by no
+means formal, but which had a knack of arriving at just conclusions, to
+put things together. She had a glimmering of the truth already.
+
+"Miss Lillie is out," said Anne. "I fear, in her deep grief, she
+wandered out, finding herself unable to rest; but neither she nor I are
+able for these details. You will greatly oblige me, Miss Crankie, and do
+your old friend a most kind service, if you will undertake this."
+
+Miss Crankie promised heartily, and Anne returned to Schole. Again there
+passed a long, weary, brilliant summer day, but Christian did not
+return. The night fell, but the roof that covered the mortal garment of
+Patrick Lille, sheltered no kindred blood. Anne had taken Christian's
+place--she was the watcher now.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+
+Another day, as bright, as weary, and as long, and still there were no
+tidings of Christian. Anne became alarmed. She sent out Jacky to make
+inquiries; Jacky ascertained that Miss Lillie on the previous morning
+had gone by the earliest coach to Edinburgh. The intelligence was some
+relief, yet perplexed Anne painfully; the arrangements were going on,
+but what could she do, if Christian remained absent, thus left alone
+with the dead?
+
+In the middle of the day, Miss Crankie brought her a letter from Mrs.
+Catherine. Anne's conscience smote her; during Patrick's illness, she
+had scarcely written to Mrs. Catherine at all; and her brief notes had
+only intimated his illness, and her hope of obtaining some further
+information through the Lillies. Mrs. Catherine's letter had an
+enclosure.
+
+"My Gowan,
+
+     "What has come over you? I have been marvelling these past mornings
+     whether it was success or failure--a light heart or a downcast one,
+     that made you forgetful of folk to whom all your doings are matters
+     of interest, and have been since you could use your own proper
+     tongue to testify of them. Think you this lad Lillie has any
+     further knowledge than you have yourself? I count it unlikely, or
+     else he is a pithless laggard, not worthy to call Norman Rutherford
+     friend, and Norman was not one to choose his friends lightly, or be
+     joined in near amity with a shallow head and a faint heart. So I
+     would have you build little on the hope of getting good tidings
+     from him, seeing that if he had known anything, he must have put it
+     to its fitting use before now. You say it gave him a fever? I like
+     not folk, child, who are thrown into fevers by sore trouble and
+     anguish, and make themselves a burden and a cumbrance, when they
+     ought to be quickened to keener life--the more helpful and strong,
+     the greater the extremity; it augurs a narrow vessel and a frail
+     spirit in most cases--it may be other in his. Certain he bore
+     himself like a man in the night you tell me of. Let me see his
+     sister, if you can bring her; there, seems--if ye draw like the
+     life--to be no soil in her for the cowardice of sickness to
+     flourish on, from which I take my certainty, that if she had kent
+     any good word concerning this dark mystery, she must have put it to
+     the proof before now.
+
+     "To speak about other matters, I send you a letter--worthy the
+     light-headed, undutiful fuil from whose vain hand it comes. You
+     will see she will have none of my counsel, and puts my offer of an
+     honorable roof over her, and a home dependent on no caprice or
+     strange woman's pleasure, in the light of a good meaning--will to
+     do kindness without power. If it were not for Archie's sake, and
+     for the good-fame of their broken house, she should never more say
+     light word to me. He has been but a month dead, this miserable man
+     of hers--that she left her mother's sick-bed for--and look at her
+     words! without so much as a decent shadow on them, to tell where
+     the sore gloom of death had fallen so late. I am growing testy in
+     my spirit, child; though truly sorrow would set me better than
+     anger, to look upon the like of a born fuil like this--her brother
+     ruined, and her man killed. Archie, a laboring wayfarer, with his
+     good name tarnished, and his father's inheritance, lost; the
+     husband for whose sake she brought down her mother's gray hairs
+     with sorrow to the grave, taken away suddenly from this world by
+     the red grip of a violent death, and the wanton fuil what can I
+     call her else?--as if she had not gotten enough to sober her for a
+     while, returning in haste to her vanities--feared to leave the
+     atmosphere of them--singing songs over the man's new grave, and
+     giving long nights to strangers, when she can but spare a brief
+     minute to say a kind word to her one brother--a kind word, said I!
+     I should say a bitter one, of folly and selfishness,--not comfort
+     to him in his labor, but records of her own sinful vanities.
+
+     "You will say I am bitter, child, at this fuil--so I am--the more
+     that I cannot be done with her, as I could with any other of her
+     kind. She is still the bairn of Isabel Balfour--in good or in evil
+     I am trysted to keep my eye upon her. I have been asking about the
+     household she is in. The mistress of it, her friend, is at least of
+     pure name; a scheming woman as I hear from one of their own vain
+     kind--who has a pride in yoking the fuils about her in the unstable
+     bands of marriage. Isabel has her mother's fair face; they will be
+     wedding her again for some passing fancy, or for dirt of siller. I
+     scarce know which is the worst. I will have no hand in it, however
+     it happens. Since she will be left to herself, she must. If deadly
+     peril ever comes, I must put forth the strong hand.
+
+     "You will come to me with all speed when you can win. If you have
+     any glimpse of good tidings, or if you have none--I am meaning when
+     you come to any certainty--let me know without delay, that I may
+     make ready for our home-going. To say the truth, I am weary at my
+     heart of this place, and sickened with anger at the fuil whose
+     letter I send you. Let me look upon you soon, lest the wrath settle
+     down, and I be not able to shake it off again; which evil
+     consequent, if you prevent it not, will be the worse for you all.
+
+CATHERINE DOUGLAS."
+
+
+
+Mrs. Duncombe's letter was enclosed.
+
+"My dear Mrs. Catherine,
+
+     "It is so good of you to think of troubling yourself with me at the
+     Tower, and must have put you so much out of the way, coming to
+     Edinburgh, that I hasten to thank you. Poor dear Duncombe was taken
+     away very suddenly; you would be quite shocked to hear of it. I was
+     distracted. They had been quarrelling over their wine. Poor
+     Duncombe was always so very jealous; and it was all for the merest
+     word of admiration, which he might have heard from a thousand
+     people beside. So they fought, and he was wounded mortally. You may
+     think how dreadful it was, when they brought him home to me dying.
+     I went into hysterics directly, I believe I needed the doctor's
+     care more than he did: before he died I was just able to speak to
+     him, and he was so very penitent for having been sometimes rude to
+     me, and so sorry for his foolish jealousy. Poor dear Edward!--I
+     shall never forget him.
+
+     "I am staying here with a dear friend of mine, Mrs. Legeretie. She
+     has got a delightful house, quite out of town, and they have come
+     here just for my sake, to be quiet and away from the gay world,
+     which of course I could not bear just now. We have quite a nice
+     circle of friends, besides our visitors from London, and just with
+     quiet parties, and country amusements, get on delightfully. Dear
+     Eliza is so kind, and gives up her engagements in town, without a
+     murmur, just to let me have the soothing quietness of the country,
+     which the doctors order me--with cheerful society--for if it were
+     not for that, my poor heart would break, I am sure--I have suffered
+     so dreadfully.
+
+     "You will have heard that dear Archibald has arrived safely at that
+     horrid place in America. What could induce him to do such a thing,
+     when he might have gone into the army, or got into Parliament, or
+     something? and the friends of the family would have helped him, I
+     am sure. It's just like Archie; he's always so hot and extreme. I
+     thought he would have killed himself that dreadful time at Paris,
+     before he took the fever; and what a shocking thing that would have
+     been for me, with all my other misfortunes. To be sure, it was a
+     horrid, foolish business--that of losing the estate--and if it had
+     not been that dull old Strathoran, where papa and mamma managed to
+     vegetate all the year through, I don't know how--I should have been
+     broken-hearted. I am sure, considering that dear Archie was only my
+     brother, there was nothing I was not willing to do for him; but to
+     go away a common clerk, into a horrid mercantile office! I must say
+     he has shown very little regard for the feelings of his relatives,
+     especially as he knows how I detest these ogres of commercial
+     people. One can only bear with them if they are very rich, and I am
+     afraid dear Archie is not likely ever to become a moneyed man.
+
+     "They are so fond of me here, and dear Eliza has done so much to
+     make me comfortable, that I should be very ungrateful to run away,
+     else I should have been delighted to spend a week or two at the
+     Tower. Mr. Legeretie has a shooting-lodge in the Highlands, and
+     dear Eliza talks of going down with him this year to give me a
+     little change; if we do, we shall come by dear old dreary
+     Strathoran just to look at it again. I hope the Rosses, and all the
+     other old friends, are well. I used to think a good deal of Lewis.
+     I suppose Anne is never married yet; she must be getting quite
+     ancient now.
+
+"My dear Mrs. Catherine,
+"Very sincerely yours,
+"ISABEL DUNCOMBE."
+
+
+
+It was a strange contrast--with Christian Lillie's desolate life before
+her--with her own heart throbbing so anxiously for the stranger, Norman,
+whom, in her remembrance, she had never seen--to hear this Isabel, her
+play-mate long ago, talking of Archie as "_only_" her brother. The
+effect was very singular. What had become of the sad sufferer who lay
+within these walls in the tranquil rest of death, if for Christian, and
+Marion, and Norman there had been any "only" stemming the deep tide of
+their self-denying tenderness?
+
+Anne wrote a brief note to Mrs. Catherine, announcing Patrick Lillie's
+death, and saying that her mission was now accomplished; and that in a
+day or two she would return to Edinburgh to explain the further
+particulars of this long mystery. The day was waning again; in weary
+sadness and solitude she sat in Patrick Lillie's study. From the kitchen
+she could hear the subdued voices of Marget and Jacky: above, the
+stealthy step of Miss Crankie, as she arranged the sad preliminaries of
+the funeral. The second evening had fallen since he departed to his
+rest; and where was Christian?
+
+A dark shadow flitted across the window. She heard a footstep enter, and
+pass quickly up the stair. Anne rose and followed. The footstep was
+quicker than Christian's, but it went steadily to the chamber of death.
+
+Anne paused at the door. The lonely dimness of the evening air gathered
+shadowy and spiritual round the bed, a dark background, from which that
+rigid marble face stood out in cold relief. A deadly stillness--a dim,
+brooding, tremulous awe--which carried in it a vague conviction of
+watching spirits, and presences mysteriously unseen, was hovering in the
+room.
+
+And kneeling at the bedside, her veil hanging round her white, thin
+face, like a cloud over the tearful pallor of a wan November sky, was
+Christian Lillie, the quivering smile upon her lip again, and the words
+of sad thankfulness falling from her tongue.
+
+"Ye are thanking God in His own heaven, Patrick, my brother; the justice
+is done, the cloud is taken away. Henceforward, in the free light of
+heaven, may Norman bear his own name; and now there remaineth nothing
+but to lay you, with hope and solemn thanksgiving into your quiet
+grave."
+
+Anne stood still; there was a long pause. Christian knelt silently by
+her dead brother's side, in darkness, in silence, in the presence of
+death, thanking God.
+
+At last she rose, and turned to leave the room. Anne's presence did not
+seem to excite any wonder; she took her offered arm quietly and kindly.
+
+"I have been very anxious," said Anne.
+
+"Ay," said Christian; "did you think I could rest, and that blight
+remaining on their name? Did you think there was any peace for me till
+all my labor was accomplished? Now--you heard me speak--Norman
+Rutherford may bear his own name, and return to his own country with
+honor and blessing upon him, in the open sunshine of day. My work is
+ended: I must but tarry for one look upon them, and then I wait the
+Lord's pleasure. His call will not come too soon."
+
+"You have taken no rest," said Anne, anxiously: "remember, there is one
+trial yet remaining. Let me get you some refreshment, and then try to
+sleep. This constant watching will kill you."
+
+Christian suffered herself to be led down stairs. Into the little parlor
+Anne hastily brought tea, and, considerably to Jacky's horror, insisted
+upon rendering all needful services herself. It was evident that
+Christian felt the delicacy which kept strange eyes from beholding her
+grief. She took the tea eagerly, removed her cloak and bonnet, and met
+Anne's anxious look with a tremulous, tender smile, inviting, rather
+than deprecating, conversation now.
+
+"Let me go with you to your own room," said Anne; "you have been in
+Edinburgh, and are quite exhausted, I see. You will be better after you
+have slept."
+
+"Sit down, I need no sleep," said Christian: "I scarcely think now, after
+my long watching, that I can begin to think of rest.--Sometimes--sometimes--"
+
+She rose and stretched out her thin arms, like one who complains of some
+painful void within, drawing them in again wearily to her breast.
+
+"Sometimes, when I do not think of _them_, and mind that he is gone, I
+could be content to bear it all again, were he but back once more. God
+aid us, for we are weak. Patrick, my brother, are ye away at last? are
+ye at peace? And I am ready to lament and pine, and not to thank God!
+God be thanked! God be thanked! that he is away in blessedness at last."
+
+She paced the room slowly for a while, and sitting down by the window,
+drew the curtains aside, and looked out in silence upon the sea--the
+placid, wakeful sea--with which so often in her misery she had taken
+counsel.
+
+"The morning after he went home," she said at last, turning to Anne
+abruptly, "I saw you looking out upon the Firth, when I departed on my
+needful errand. You mind the soft fall of the air, like the breath of a
+young angel--a spirit in its first joy--the latest born of heaven? You
+mind the joy and gentleness that were in the air?"
+
+"Yes," said Anne.
+
+"On such a morning--as soft, as joyous, and as bright--he came to me,
+who is now in heaven at peace. There was no peace about him then. Within
+his soul, and in his face, was an agony more bitter than death. You know
+the reason. He had done the deed, for which, through eighteen lingering,
+terrible years, Norman Rutherford has been a banished man.
+
+"I took him in, and closed the door: he fell down upon the ground, at my
+feet. From the terrible words of his first madness, I gleaned something
+of the truth. Think of it--think of that.--The horror of great darkness
+that fell on me that day has scarce ever been lightened for an hour,
+from that time to this.
+
+"I sent for him, for Norman, your brother, and mine. He came to me, into
+the room where Patrick lay, in a burning fever of agony and madness. By
+that time a breath of the terrible story was abroad. It was his gun it
+was done with. He had parted from Arthur Aytoun in just anger. There
+were but two ways--either to give up the frantic, fevered lad that lay
+there before us, knowing neither him nor me, to a death of shame and
+horror, or for him--him, in his honorable, upright, pure youth--to
+sacrifice honor, and home, and name.
+
+"He did not hesitate--the Lord bless him!--the Lord send the blessings
+of the convenant upon him, promised and purchased!--he made up his mind.
+And to us, as we stood there in our first agony, with Patrick stricken
+down before us, there was no consolation of innocence. We knew not but
+what the blood had been wilfully shed: we thought the torture he was in
+was the just meed of a murderer.
+
+"I gave him a line to Marion: she was at a friend's house, between
+Edinburgh and Glasgow. She had gone, a joyous light-hearted girl, with
+as fair a lot before her as ever lay at mortal feet, to get apparel for
+her bridal. I bade her go with Norman. When I wrote that, I was calmer
+than I am now. I, that was parting with them both--that was left here
+alone with this stricken man and his blood-guiltiness.
+
+"They went away, and he was still lying unconscious on my hands. Then I
+had to hear the unjust stain thrown upon the noble and brave heart that
+was bearing the burden. I had to hear it all--to listen to the
+certainties of his guilt--to hear them tell how he had done it like a
+coward; and with my heart burning within me, I dared not say to them
+that he was pure and guiltless as ever was righteous man. I turned from
+the scorching summer light, and the false accusation, in to the bedside
+of my raving, maddened brother, and he was the man. Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!
+how did I live?
+
+"Then there came the word that they were lost; and a calm, like what you
+will see in storms, came over the miserable heart within me. I defied my
+misery: I dared it to add to me another pang.
+
+"Then I said that Marion was dead--my bird--my light--my little sister!
+When I said that, I knew not it was false; I believed she was gone out
+of her new grief; I believed I was alone in the world.
+
+"Then the secret news came to me that they were safe, and then the life
+struggled through that time of horror, and Patrick rose from his bed.
+One solemn still night I told him all, and in his agony he said he was
+innocent. Since that time through all this life of desolation, he has
+repeated that at times, when his mind was clear; but his soul was frozen
+within him in terror. When I spoke of justice to Norman, he shrank and
+trembled, and bade me wait. What could I do? I could not give him up as
+a shedder of blood--he was in my hand. To my own heart, and to my Father
+in heaven, I had to answer for him; and when I dared hope that he had
+shed this blood unawares, I became strong."
+
+She paused. She had been speaking rapidly, without stop or hesitation,
+almost without breath. Anne endeavored to soothe and calm her.
+
+"Last year, they sent me their child. He had called her Lilie. He
+himself, whom our unhappy name had blighted. The child was pining under
+the hot sun of yon strange land. I could not keep her in our desolate
+house. I took her to Norman's country. I was to place her with his
+nurse, near to his old home. When we got there, I feared to enter; I
+trembled to betray the secret I was burdened with. I thought a heart
+that he was dear to, could not fail to discover his bairn, and so I took
+her to a stranger.
+
+"When I left her there--you mind?--I met you, and we looked upon each
+other face to face: I did not need to hear the name that the blue-eyed
+girl by your side was saying. I knew you were Norman's sister--I felt
+that his spirit was within you, and that we would meet again.
+
+"Now we have met, and you know it all. The history is public now. The
+ban is off Norman's name--your brother and mine. I will see them
+again--my bird Marion--my bairn, that my own hands nurtured!"
+
+"Christian," said Anne, "for her sake, and for us all, you must rest.
+There are quiet days in store--tranquil days of household peace and
+honor. You have done your work nobly and bravely, as few could have
+done; for Marion's sake, who is my sister as well as yours, and for the
+sake of the dead, for whom you have watched so long, take rest now. Your
+work is over."
+
+Christian drew the curtain aside again, and gazed out upon the sea. "For
+him--for Marion--for Norman; for Thy mercy's sake, O, Lord! and for Thy
+beautiful world, which Thou hast given to calm us, I will be calm--give
+me now what Thou willest, and Thy rest in Thine own heaven, when Thy
+good time shall come."
+
+And so peacefully, in chastened hope and with gentle tears, refreshing
+with their milder sorrow the weary eyes that had burned in tearless
+agony so long, they laid the innocent shedder of blood in his quiet
+grave.
+
+On the evening after the funeral, Christian wandered out alone. "She
+goeth unto the grave to weep there," said Anne, as it was said of the
+Mary of the Lord's time; and she made no attempt either to detain or to
+accompany her. To Christian, the balm of Anne's sisterly care and
+sympathy was evidently very dear; but she was not wont to lean upon any
+mortal arm, and it was best that she should be left with her sorrow
+alone.
+
+The house had the exhausted, worn-out look which is common after such a
+solemn departure. Marget sat, dressed in her new mourning, in the
+kitchen, in languid despondent state, telling Jacky traits of the dead
+Master, whom, now that all excitement was over, she began to miss and
+lament, and weep some natural tears for. Jacky was half-listening to
+these, half-buried in an old volume of "Quarles' Emblems," which she had
+recently brought from the study. Anne had opened the low projecting
+window, and sat in the recess with one of those devout contemplative
+books in her hand; she was reading little, and thinking much--feeling
+herself affected by the listless weariness that reigned around her.
+
+She saw a lad come in at the gate, without observing who he was. In a
+minute after Jacky entered the study.
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne, it's Johnnie Halflin."
+
+Anne started.
+
+"Has he come from Mrs. Catherine?"
+
+"If ye please, Miss Anne, Mrs. Catherine's at Miss Crankie's."
+
+Anne rose immediately, and proceeded up the lane to Miss Crankie's
+house. Mrs. Catherine's carriage stood at the door. Mrs. Catherine
+herself was in the parlor, where Miss Crankie stood in deferential
+conversation with her--keenly observant of all the particulars of her
+plain, rich dress and stately appearance, and silently exulting over the
+carriage at the door--the well-appointed, wealthy carriage, which all
+the neighborhood could see.
+
+"Anne!" exclaimed Mrs. Catherine, as Anne in her deep mourning dress
+entered the room. "What is the matter?"
+
+Miss Crankie sensibly withdrew.
+
+"He is dead, Mrs. Catherine," said Anne.
+
+"Who is dead? Who is this lad?"
+
+"The brother of Marion--the brother of Norman's wife."
+
+"Anne," said Mrs. Catherine, "you have not dealt ingenuously and frankly
+with me in this matter. Who is this lad, I ask you? Have you a certainty
+that Norman's wife was his sister, that you are thus mourning for a
+fremd man?"
+
+Anne sat down beside her.
+
+"What I knew formerly was so dim and indistinct that I feared to tell
+you. They avoided me--they went away from their own home to shun my
+presence. In the confusion of my imperfect knowledge, I felt that I
+could not speak of them. Now I am sure. There is a most sad story to
+tell you, Mrs. Catherine--Patrick Lillie is Marion's brother--he is more
+than that."
+
+"Speak out, child. Who is he?"
+
+"He is the man for whom Norman sacrificed all--he is the slayer of Alice
+Aytoun's father."
+
+Mrs. Catherine started--in her extreme wonder she could say nothing.
+
+"An innocent man, Mrs. Catherine; this dreadful deed was done unawares,
+and in a life of agony has it been avenged."
+
+Mrs. Catherine remained silent for a moment.
+
+"And he let Norman, the honorable, generous, just lad, suffer a death
+for him--suffer the death of a lifetime? Anne--Anne, is it a coward like
+this you are mourning for? A faint heart and a weak spirit--what could
+it be other that would let a righteous man bear this for him?"
+
+"There is justice done," said Anne, "it is over now. I acknowledge the
+weakness, Mrs. Catherine; but he has suffered dreadfully. A gentle,
+delicate, pensive spirit, unfit for storms and trials--altogether unfit
+for doing any great thing: one to be supported and tenderly upheld--not
+to take any bold step alone."
+
+"Suffered!" Mrs. Catherine rose and walked through the room, till the
+boards, less solid than those of the Tower, quaked and sounded below her
+feet. "Wherefore did he not come forth in the light of day, and bear his
+own burden? Good fame and honor--land and home--what was he that a just
+man should lay down these for him?"
+
+"He was a feeble, delicate, dependant spirit," said Anne: "one of those
+whom it is our natural impulse to defend and suffer for. That was his
+only claim; but you know how strong that is."
+
+Mrs. Catherine did know, but she felt no sympathy for the shrinking
+weakness which could suffer another to bear its own just punishment.
+
+"I know? Yes, I know; but what claim has the like of such a weakling to
+call himself a man? Eighteen years--eighteen long, slow years--all Alice
+Aytoun's lifetime. Anne, I marvel you can bear with his memory, or lift
+up your face to me, and speak of him as kindred. He shed this blood
+unawares, said you? Did he doom Norman to this death unawares? was it
+without his knowledge that he laid this blight upon the two that have
+borne banishment for him? Speak not to me of this coward, child. I say,
+mention not his name to me."
+
+"Mrs. Catherine," said Anne, "bear with me till you hear his story. If
+you had seen him as I have seen--if you had listened to Christian as I
+have listened, you too would mourn over this blighted, broken man, less
+in his death than in his life. When Norman fled, he was in an agony of
+fever and madness, unconscious of what was passing round him--only aware
+in his burning horror and grief that he had shed blood. When he
+recovered--and most strange it was that he should have recovered--most
+strange the tenacious life and strength of his feebleness--he heard of
+Norman's sacrifice; and then I acknowledge he ought to have done
+justice, had not his weakness overpowered him. He dared not face the
+terror and the shame; perhaps the dreadful death due to his
+blood-guiltiness, and so he lived on--such a life as few have ever lived
+in this world--a life of despair, and gloom, and misery: terrible to
+hear of--more terrible to see."
+
+Mrs. Catherine seated herself again.
+
+"And the sister and the righteous man, his friend, bearing a dark name
+for him over the sea; and the sad woman at home, that you have told me
+of, wearing out her days for him. Was his miserable life worth that,
+think you? Should that not have been worse than any death?"
+
+"Should have been," said Anne; "but I do not speak of what should be,
+Mrs. Catherine. Why this shrinking, feeble spirit was conjoined with
+such a lot, who can tell? It had a strange, feverish, hysteric strength,
+too. When he battled through yon dark waves to save the perishing
+seamen, you would not have said that Patrick Lillie was a coward."
+
+There was a pause. Mrs. Catherine's manner softened. Anne took
+advantage of it to repeat to her Christian Lillie's story. The stern,
+stately old lady was moved to very tears.
+
+"And so at last justice is done," she said. "Anne, it is meet that this
+worn woman, after her travail, should have light in her evening-time. If
+she will come with you, bid her come to my house. The like of her would
+do honor to any dwelling, were it a king's. And she left him at his
+grave's brink, whenever he was at rest, to render what was just to the
+banished man? She did well. It behoves that all who known this history
+should render reverence. I say she did well."
+
+There was again a momentary pause.
+
+"And where is he?" asked Mrs. Catherine. "Where, and in what condition
+is Norman Rutherford?"
+
+"I have never asked yet," said Anne. "I was anxious to soothe her; she
+has been so worn out with watching and grief. I will ask her now, when
+all excitement is over, and she has only to bear her gentle sorrow for
+Patrick's death."
+
+"Ay--ay," said Mrs. Catherine, slowly; "ay--and yet you do not know,
+Gowan, the terrible, dreary calm that is left by that shadow of death. I
+speak of the death that carries home a godly, honorable, righteous man,
+whose life was a joy and a blessing.--This is a grief sorer than mine. I
+bow my head to this tribulation. I cannot fathom all the depths of its
+bitterness; it is greater than mine."
+
+And with her large gray eyelid swelling full, Mrs. Catherine Douglas
+bowed her stately head. Yes! the solitary, desolate, dumb might of
+anguish with which her strong spirit quivered, when she left all that
+remained of Sholto Douglas sleeping peacefully in his calm island grave,
+overwhelming as it was, became a gentle sorrow in presence of the life
+of wakeful agony which Christian Lillie had borne silently within the
+desolate walls of Schole.
+
+Mrs. Catherine began to speak of the possibility of remaining for the
+night. It was a very strange idea for her, who had not slept under a
+strange roof for more than thirty years. Since Patrick's death, Anne had
+passed both night and day at Schole, and the pretty little clean
+bed-room behind was unoccupied. Miss Crankie herself was called in to be
+consulted on the subject.
+
+Miss Crankie had scarcely entered the room, when there was a rush in the
+passage. The door flew violently open, and Mrs. Yammer, her head bound
+up with mighty rolls of flannel, and a newspaper trembling in her eager
+hand, stood before them.
+
+"Eh, Johann!--Eh, Miss Ross!" she could articulate no more.
+
+"What in the world has come ower the woman now?" exclaimed Miss Crankie,
+peevishly. "If ye will be a puling, no-weel fuil, ye may keep your
+ailments to yoursel at least. For guid sake, Tammie, haud your tongue;
+dinna deave the ladies."
+
+"Eh, Miss Ross!--Eh, Johann!" exclaimed the aroused and excited Mrs.
+Yammer, "if it wasna for the stitch in my side, I wad read it to ye
+mysel. Look at this."
+
+Anne took the paper wonderingly. She glanced down a long paragraph,
+headed "Romance in real life," with hurried half attention, and little
+interest. Her eyes were arrested by the concluding words: they seemed to
+shine out from a mist. Unconsciously, in her sudden excitement, she read
+them aloud: "This most honorable vindication of Norman Rutherford, of
+Redheugh--"
+
+"Gowan," exclaimed Mrs. Catherine, hastily, taking the paper from her
+powerless hand, "what is that you say?"
+
+"Ye see," said Mrs. Yammer, following up briskly her unwonted
+independent movement, "we get it atween us. Mr. Currie, the saddler, and
+Mrs. Clippie, the captain's widow, and Robert Carritch, the
+session-clerk, and Johann and me; and I was just sitting ower the fire,
+trying if the heat would do ony guid to my puir head, when I saw that
+about young Redheugh--and I'll be out o' my wits the morn wi the draft
+frae that open door."
+
+"Gae way to your fireside again, and haud your tongue," said Miss
+Crankie, bundling her sister unceremoniously out of the door before her.
+"Wits!--woman, if ye had as muckle judgment as wad lie on a sixpence, ye
+wad see that the ladies have mair concern in that than either you or
+me."
+
+Anne had been looking at them vacantly with a vague, unconscious smile
+upon her lip. Now, when the door was shut, she suddenly knelt down at
+Mrs. Catherine's knees, scarce knowing what she did, and leaning there,
+burst into tears. She was conscious of Mrs. Catherine's hand laid
+caressingly upon her hair; she was conscious of an indistinct mist of
+joy and thankfulness. It overpowered and weakened her; she could not
+stay these tears.
+
+In the meantime, Mrs. Catherine read:
+
+     "We have just had communicated to us the particulars of a very
+     moving story, another of the many examples that truth is strange,
+     stranger than fiction. We believe that many of our readers, who are
+     acquainted with the neighborhood of our city, may have remarked a
+     desolate house, standing in the midst of a very rich country,
+     within sight of the Firth, and presenting a very singular contrast,
+     in its utter neglect and ruin, to the prosperous and flourishing
+     appearance of everything about it. The story current in the
+     neighborhood is, that its last proprietor perished miserably in the
+     sea, while flying from the doom of a murderer, with the blood of a
+     friend shed deliberately and in cowardice on his hand. Other more
+     ghostly rumors of sights seen and sounds heard in its immediate
+     neighborhood are of course current also.--The account we have now
+     to give of this dark transaction reveals something almost as
+     strange as the re-appearance on this earthly scene of spirits long
+     ago departed. It seems the very triumph and perfection of generous
+     self-sacrifice and 'godlike amity,' and as such we are happy to
+     have an opportunity of presenting it to our readers.
+
+     "A few days since, the Lord Advocate received from a lady a full
+     exculpation of Mr. Rutherford, of Redheugh, in the shape of a
+     confession made by the real criminal upon his death-bed. We do
+     wrong in applying the name of criminal to this unhappy
+     man.--According to his death-bed declaration, made in the presence
+     of witnesses, and to which full credence may be given, the death of
+     the late Arthur Aytoun, Esq., of Aytoun, so long regarded as a
+     murder, falls under the lighter title of an accident. A dreamy
+     student had been spending an hour of a brilliant summer morning
+     shooting upon the sands, and on his return home fired an
+     inadvertent shot, while resting in a wood, when, instead of the
+     bird which he fancied he aimed at, the unhappy young man heard a
+     cry of mortal agony, and beheld the death of a fellow-man.
+     Distracted and maddened, he rushed home; made some wild confession
+     to his sister of the fact alone, without telling her that it was
+     accidental, and immediately fell into the wild delirium of fever.
+     Mr. Rutherford, of Redheugh, was the most intimate friend of the
+     family, and betrothed to the younger sister. The fowling-piece,
+     which had fallen from the young man's hand when he discovered the
+     fatal effects of the shot, belonged to Mr. Rutherford. Mr. Aytoun
+     and Mr. Rutherford had parted the night before in anger: every
+     circumstance directed suspicion to the Laird of Redheugh. In her
+     first terror, the sister of the unhappy shedder of blood, naturally
+     sought counsel from the friend who was so shortly to enter into the
+     most intimate relation with the family; and Mr. Rutherford, with a
+     generosity never in our knowledge paralleled, resolved at once to
+     divert attention from his helpless friend by his own flight. The
+     younger sister accompanied him, after a secret marriage. By
+     universal consent he was pronounced guilty: the fact of his flight
+     settled that beyond dispute in the judgment of the world.
+
+     "The vessel he sailed in was lost; himself in it, as has to this
+     hour been universally believed. But the strange eventful history of
+     this unfortunate gentleman has not had so abrupt a termination. He
+     still lives, and will long live, we trust, to expend in a larger
+     circle the rare generosity of which he has given so remarkable a
+     proof.
+
+     "The unhappy man, by whose inadvertent hand Mr. Aytoun fell, and
+     for whom Mr. Rutherford has suffered, is lately dead.--Without a
+     moment's delay, after his death, his sister immediately brought his
+     confession to the proper quarter, so that now there remains nothing
+     but to give to the world this most honorable vindication of Norman
+     Rutherford, of Redheugh. In the consciousness of an act of singular
+     goodness, bravely done, and in the universal applause of all good
+     men, our heroic countryman, on his return to his own land, will, we
+     doubt not, find himself abundantly rewarded."
+
+     And thus it was made known to the world--the work of the two
+     sisters was accomplished. Free from all stain and disgrace, radiant
+     in the honor and blessing of generous work and life, the sentence
+     of justice, and the universal voice of good men, should welcome to
+     his long-lost home and country Norman Rutherford, of Redheugh.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+
+The next day, after a long interview with Christian Lillie, and granting
+the further delay of a week to Anne for Christian's sake, Mrs. Catherine
+returned to Edinburgh. At the week's end, when she had rendered what
+service and assistance she could to Christian, Anne was to join Mrs.
+Catherine, and they were to proceed home.
+
+But the invitation of Mrs. Catherine, and Anne's entreaty that she
+should accompany them, was steadily and quietly negatived by Christian.
+The day before Anne left Schole, they sat together in the study--Anne
+was renewing her solicitations.
+
+"No," said Christian, calmly, "no, I cannot leave his grave. I cannot
+give up my watch of Patrick. You do not know--I pray God you never
+may--when folk have watched and waited for a lifelong like me, how hard
+it is to break the old wont, even though it be one of the sorest pain
+that ever oppressed mortal spirit. I am calm now--you know how calm I
+am--but I must tarry by his grave."
+
+"And will you stay here," said Anne, "here in this desolate house?"
+
+"At this time I must--my desire is to return to our old home, before
+Marion comes back to me--I forget she has been a mother long, and a
+grave tried woman. I only mind her as my bird Marion, my little sister;
+I would like to have her chamber for her, as it was before this cloud
+fell. You shall go with me to-morrow, and we will see what they say--the
+people who are in the house."
+
+"And where are they?" said Anne, "will you not tell me, Christian, where
+they are?"
+
+Christian's countenance changed: "They will be home in due time. Your
+brother Norman will reveal himself to you himself, and you will not ask
+me further. It is a weakness--a remembrance of my old bondage--but you
+will wait, Anne, my sister.--Let him carry you his own secret himself."
+
+Anne was silent. It was a singular hesitation this, but she could not
+press her question further. "And will you not come to Merkland--to see
+us--to see Lilie?"
+
+"I will come when Marion comes," said Christian. "Let me stay until
+then. By the time this year is ended, as I calculate, they will be home,
+and till that time I will rest."
+
+Anne rose, a stranger was at the gate: through the window she descried
+the good-humored round face of Mrs. Brock, her earliest acquaintance in
+Aberford. "Here is your tenant, Christian," she said: "shall I see her?
+it may fatigue you."
+
+"No," said Christian, "let her be brought in, Anne; it will save us our
+walk to-morrow."
+
+Anne went out, and met the Grieve's wife, who was greatly astonished to
+see her. "Eh, preserve me! is this you, Miss Ross? and ye never came
+back to tak a cup o' tea; and I've been looking for ye ilka fine day;
+and sae muckle as wee Geordie had to tell his father about the leddy yon
+night; and ye'll hae been biding close a' this time at Aberford?"
+
+"No," said Anne, "I have been in the North since I saw you."
+
+"And sae ye ken Miss Lillie? She'll be sair put out o' the way, it's
+like, about her brother. Losh! do ye ken Miss Ross, our George says
+there's something in the papers about it being Maister Lillie that
+killed the man, and no young Redheugh. Is there onythiug in't, think ye?
+ane couldna ask Miss Lillie."
+
+"By no means," said Anne, "she is in great grief for her brother, and
+you must not allude to it."
+
+"It'll be true then? Eh! to think of a delicate looking man like thon
+doing the like o' that."
+
+"It was an accident," said Anne, quickly; "he was a gentleman, who would
+not have harmed any living thing. Do you wish to see Miss Lillie?"
+
+"Ou, ay, it was just about the house, ye ken. George thought we micht
+maybe come to a settlement about the house. Ye see there's a new yin
+building at the back end o' the toun, nigher the water--a guid twa story
+house, and we've a big family, and George would like to be off or on at
+yince."
+
+Anne ushered the visitor into the study. Mrs. Brock, honest woman,
+expended upon Christian some piece of common-place consolation, which
+made the pale lip quiver. Then she entered upon her business.
+
+"Ye see, we've reason to be thankfu', we've won on no that ill in the
+world; and George says its a daftlike thing to us to be paying rent for
+a house, and us has lying siller that could buy mair than yin. Sae if
+ye're agreeable, he'll make ye his auld offer ower again--twa hunder
+pounds, and us to get it as it stands, all and haill."
+
+"I am sorry, Mrs. Brock," said Christian, "when you like it so well,
+that I cannot part with it; but I must keep the house in my own
+possession."
+
+"Weel," said Mrs. Brock, "of course it's your ain to do what ye like
+wi't--and ye see there's John Tamson, he began to build a twa story
+house, down by the back end o' the toun--and he's broke. Its nae
+wonder--his wife wearing silk gowns, and gowd earrings ilka day, less
+wadna ser her, and her was only a ewemilker fræ the Lammermuir! Sae
+George thinks we micht maybe buy John Tamson's house--its stickit in the
+building e'enow, but we could sune hae it begun again; and maybe since
+ye'll no sell yours, ye wad hae nae objection to quit us at Martinmas."
+
+"I shall be very glad," said Christian. "I expect friends home who have
+been long absent, and this house is not pleasant to me. I will be glad
+to release you when you choose."
+
+Mrs. Brock was satisfied; and after various other attempts at
+conversation, in which Anne bore the brunt as well as she could, and did
+all in her power to prevent their visitor from recurring to the death of
+Patrick, Mrs. Brock at last intimated, "that she bid to be thinking o'
+gaun hame--though it was an awfu' hot stourie day, and she was bye
+ordinary tired."
+
+Roused by this hint, Anne hastened to bring a glass of wine, and at last
+their visitor departed.
+
+"So there will be time to restore all," said Christian, as Mrs. Brock
+left the house. "It is well, I will have a pleasure in it. It is the
+first time I have said that word since yon June day! Do I look like a
+woman dead? Is there something in my voice, and face, that speaks of
+death?"
+
+"Christian," said Anne in alarm, "why do you ask that?"
+
+"Because I feel it, Anne--a dead unnatural calm, like the stillness of
+the Firth before yon storm--not peace but death; I feel it in myself.
+When I go about, I think I can hear no sound of my footsteps; when I
+breathe, I think the air seems to cleave before me; when I speak, the
+voice has a dull, cold modulation, that is not human. I can think of
+them all--of Patrick in his agony--of myself so short a time ago, as
+feverish shadows--I feel this calm oppress and envelop me like a
+shroud--I feel like one dead."
+
+"This should not be, Christian," said Anne, "it is but the reaction of
+stillness after all your labor and watching. How much have you to live
+for!"
+
+"I have no further work," said Christian Lillie, in her old composure of
+melancholy, "no further watching--no one now to care and labor for. You
+do not know my life; when I was a girl, in the days when others are gay
+and light of heart, beloved, and served, and cared for, I was fighting
+with a household shame and sin--a miserable, sensual, earthly sin, in
+the one man to whom I should have looked up for support and guidance:
+striving to hide it--to keep it from the knowledge of the bairns--the
+two that were depending more upon me, their sister, than upon him their
+father; striving, too, with weary cares of poverty, to keep them from
+want--real want and not mere meagreness. From that a death relieved
+me--and then, with only eighteen years over my head, I was left the
+mother of these two; to protect, and defend, and bring them up, the only
+near kindred they had in the world. Since then my hands have been
+full--there has been no lack of vigils or labors in this past life of
+mine. Now it is over; I have carried Patrick safely to his grave, and
+seen him laid down there in sorrow and in hope; and now Marion will come
+again to a bright household in joy and honor. Do you marvel that I think
+my work over?--the need of me in this world past."
+
+"I do not marvel," said Anne, "but I wish that it should be otherwise,
+Christian. I would not have your sky overcast with this dull calm; I
+would have it free to receive God's sunshine; the light he sends upon
+it, in the evening time."
+
+"God forbid," said Christian Lillie rising, and pressing her hands
+painfully to her breast, "God forbid that I should hide my head, from
+His mercy of joy; God forbid that I should shut my eyes to His sunshine,
+or sin His mercies; only I am blinded with this cold calm, and my heart
+is dead within me. When I am in my own house, bring the child to
+me--Marion's bairn, that he called by our unhappy name; and come
+yourself, my sister Anne, that I may begin to live again. Till then, in
+my own fashion let me rest."
+
+And so they arranged. At the term of Martinmas, or sooner, if John
+Tamson's house, the newly-acquired property of George Brock, should be
+sooner completed--whenever Christian had regained possession of the old
+home cottage, Anne was to visit her with Lilie. At present, all was done
+for her that affectionate care could do, and on the next day Anne left
+Aberford.
+
+When in the evening she entered Mrs. Catherine's Edinburgh drawing-room,
+in its stately pride of olden furniture, gracefully not stiffly antique,
+she found James Aytoun and his mother waiting to meet her. Mrs. Aytoun
+gave her a tremulous welcome, which was half an embrace, and would have
+been wholly one, had Mrs. Aytoun been at all a demonstrative person.
+James shook hands with her with respectful kindness and friendship. The
+good opinion of such a mother and son was worth having. Anne felt
+enlivened and exhilarated.
+
+"Alice has gone out," said Mrs. Aytoun: "she will be with us very soon
+again. They were to watch for your coming, but I fear these young people
+become engrossed in their own matters sometimes."
+
+"They?" said Anne.
+
+"Ay, she has a gallant with her you have seen before," said Mrs.
+Catherine, "be patient--you will find out who he is before long."
+
+"Is it Lewis?--is Lewis here?" asked Anne.
+
+"Mrs. Catherine wishes to take Alice from us again," said Mrs. Aytoun.
+"I am afraid, Miss Ross, I can hardly thank you for the barrier you have
+removed. Alice is so young--little more than a child yet."
+
+James Aytoun took up a book, and went away smilingly to a window. He saw
+that a consultation matrimonial and maternal was impending.
+
+"I do think she is too young. I do not approve of too early marriages,"
+said Mrs. Aytoun, shaking her head. "Why, many girls are but leaving
+school at Alice's age--she is not quite eighteen yet."
+
+"She is in no peril," said Mrs. Catherine. "It's my hope, kinswoman,
+that you do not think you are sending her into a savage country, where
+there will be but barbarous people to show kindness to the bairn. There
+is no fear of her--I warrant her in as careful hands, when she is in
+Lewis's, as she could be under the shadow of my very sel; I would not
+just have advised you to wed her--a bairn as she undoubtedly is--to the
+like of Archie Sutherland; but she is in no peril with Lewis."
+
+The slightest possible additional color wavered over Anne's face. She
+did by no means perceive any connexion, logical or otherwise, between
+the marriage of little Alice Aytoun and Archie Sutherland.
+
+"I am not afraid for her," said Mrs. Aytoun: "it is not peril that I
+mean; but so young a girl entering upon the care of a house--the
+management of a family--besides the pain of losing her. If it had not
+been for your mother's presence, and your own, Miss Ross, I should never
+have consented--at her age."
+
+Mrs. Aytoun expressed something of what she felt, but not all. She did
+not like the idea of Alice entering another family, not as its mistress,
+but as a younger daughter. She felt sure of Anne; but Alice was by no
+means so exuberant in her praise of Mrs. Ross.
+
+"I do not know what arrangement my mother may make," said Anne, "but, of
+course, whether we remain in Merkland or not, it must make a very great,
+and a very pleasant change to us."
+
+Mrs. Aytoun smiled a dubious smile--she was not reconciled to it. In any
+way, parting with the girl-daughter was a great venture, but to send her
+into the rule of a husband's mother, while even the husband himself was
+comparatively unknown! Mrs. Aytoun was jealous and afraid for her little
+clinging Alice, whose life hitherto had been so carefully guarded.
+
+"And so you are demurring to the lad's petition?" said Mrs. Catherine.
+"Well, I do not marvel; but a month or two can make little odds, and you
+bid to have parted with her soon or syne."
+
+"Certainly, that is a consolation," said Mrs. Aytoun, with her faint
+smile. "It is selfish of me, I am afraid, to be so loath to think of
+parting with Alice; and part I must one time or other, that is true, but
+still--a little longer, I think, she may be left to me. Your brother has
+been pressing an early time upon us, Miss Ross. I do not object that he
+should wish it--but you must do us the kindness to help me in deferring
+this a little."
+
+"I believe," said Anne, "that my brother Norman may be home--that we may
+expect him at the end of the year. I should like exceedingly that he
+could be present--that it were deferred until that time."
+
+Mrs. Aytoun pressed her hand gratefully--Alice, radiant with smiles and
+blushes, looked in at the door. "Oh! Anne is here--she has come," she
+exclaimed as she ran to Anne's side--Lewis was behind her.
+
+"So my mother has been bringing you over to our side," said James
+Aytoun, when the evening was considerably advanced, as he took a seat
+near Anne. "Mrs. Catherine is wavering. I fear to find her throw her
+mighty forces into alliance with the active, serviceable, energetic
+troops whom Lewis himself brings into the field. We are by no means
+pleased to have our little Alice carried off from us so rapidly. I begin
+to fear Mrs. Catherine is anything but a safe guardian for young ladies;
+I certainly shall not advise any client of mine to send favorite
+daughters or sisters to the Tower, if he wants to keep them out of
+harm's way."
+
+"What is that you say?" said Mrs. Catherine, "do you make light of my
+good name, James Aytoun? and do you, Anne, sit still and hear? you are
+an irreverent generation! Never you heed, Alison. It is because you are
+overlooking the rule of Laban, the son of Bethuel, and cheating him of
+his elder right."
+
+"If you will come to Merkland, James," said Lewis, "I will say a good
+word for you to Marjory Falconer. By the bye, I forgot my great
+news--have you heard about Marjory, Anne?"
+
+"What about her?"
+
+"In the first place, she has made a silent recantation--if one may guess
+from appearances. A hint of Walter Foreman's the other day, about the
+rights of women, instead of setting her off at a tangent, as such a
+thing used to do, threw her into an agony of blushing, and made her
+dumb. That is great enough for one report; but I have another. Marjory
+Falconer--listen to me all who know Strathoran--Marjory Falconer is
+about to be married!"
+
+"To be married!" echoed little Alice, with a look of laughing wonder and
+dismay. These two, Lewis and his betrothed, had not got the slightest
+glimpse of Marjory Falconer yet, well though they fancied they knew her;
+Anne looked slightly puzzled, and a little anxious: Mrs. Catherine
+smiled.
+
+"Who is it? who is it?" cried little Alice.
+
+"Anne can guess," said Lewis: "I see his name upon her lips. It seems my
+news is no such wonder, after all."
+
+"Who is she going to marry, Lewis?" asked Anne, hastily, "it is rather a
+wish than a guess with me. Marjory does not give confidences of that
+kind--is it Mr. Lumsden?"
+
+"May all your wishes, sister Anne," said Lewis, with mock gravity, "be
+as fully realized. It is the mighty minister of Portoran. Ralph, they
+say, rebelled, and had a swearing fit when he heard of it, which Marjory
+promptly checked, however, and sent him down stairs to the congenial
+society of his horses and grooms. It will be a serious matter for Ralph
+though, for Marjory, with all her whims, kept things going at Falcon's
+Craig."
+
+"I am very glad to hear it," said Anne. "It is one of the few marriages
+that have no drawback; one can feel that Marjory, with her strength and
+good sense, is safe now, in a pure healthful atmosphere, where she will
+grow and flourish. I am very glad."
+
+Lewis and Alice exchanged glances and laughed.
+
+"Lewis," said Mrs. Catherine, "hold your peace. It becomes the like of
+you--gallants that have a while to grow before they reach their full
+stature--to take heed that you meddle only with things within your power
+of vision. Ay! you are lowering your bit forehead on me, Alison Aytoun;
+but truly, after all, there are wiser men in this world, to my own
+certain knowledge, than this gallant that calls himself of Merkland."
+
+"But Miss Falconer figures very largely in Alice's reminiscences," said
+James, smiling. "To whom shall I apply for an account of her? to you,
+Mrs. Catherine, or to Lewis."
+
+"I bid you come yourself and see, James Aytoun," said Mrs. Catherine.
+"As for Lewis, he does not know, and therefore it is not likely he can
+tell; but truly, I think you would be better employed telling my Anne,
+whom you have set yourself beside, the issue of the plea, that Robert
+Ferguson and you have been working at so long."
+
+James obeyed: with signal disgrace and utter discomfiture, Lord
+Gillravidge's defence had been overpowered. The road through the
+Strathoran grounds, by the omnipotent voice of the Court of Session, was
+proclaimed free as the sunshine to all and sundry, its natural
+proprietors and heirs. Henceforward the pulling down of barricades was a
+legal and proper enforcement of the law, and the erection of the same
+entirely useless, for any other purpose than that of keeping the
+well-disposed lads of Strathoran in glee and mischief. Mrs. Catherine
+was victorious, and triumphed moderately in her victory.
+
+"If it were not that I hope in my lifetime to see Archie Sutherland back
+to his own lands, I would hazard a trial with that English alien, of his
+title to take their old inheritance from the clansmen whose right it is.
+You shake your head, James Aytoun--I will uphold it in the face of a
+whole synod as learned in the law as yourself, that the clansman has the
+same natural right of possession as his chief; that it comes to him by
+the same inheritance; that in no way is the laird more certain in his
+tenure than the humble man, except in so far as he is chief of both land
+and men, natural protector, ruler and guardian of the same. You forget
+the ancient right and justice in this drifting unsettled generation. If
+it were not that you pleaders of the law, have a necessity of spinning
+out the line of a plea, past the extremity of mortal life, and I hope to
+see Archie home within the course of mine, I would see that this was
+tried without delay, let the whole parliament-house of you shake the
+heads of your wisdom if ye likit."
+
+"I am afraid," said James, "we might get the theoretic justice of it
+approved--but as for any practical result to follow--"
+
+"You do not know," interrupted Mrs. Catherine: "so far as I have seen in
+my life, a thing does not commonly succeed till it's tried; ay, tried
+with labor, and zeal, and longwaiting; and it's a poor work that is not
+worth that. I know not but what for the sake of the coming race, there
+is a clear call to try it. If the first bit petty tyrant that took their
+right inheritance from clansmen, whose fathers won it by the strong
+hand, had been resisted in his ill doing, this pang English lordling
+would not have dared to turn the Macalpines out of Oranmore."
+
+"But we dont all hold our lands by the strong hand," said Lewis Ross.
+
+"Lewis, you are a loon; how often have I told you to hold your peace;
+and what better tenure could the man have for his lands, I would crave
+to know, than just the tenure of the strong hand? Your fathers knew
+better, and what they won by their sword and by their bow, was well won
+I say! won by clansmen and chief together, and by clansmen and chief, in
+their degree, to be lawfully and justly held--in peace, if the Almighty
+ordained it so, and if not, in honorable holding of the land they had
+won, against all aliens and incomers; whether they came by open war, or
+with courtesies of craft and falsehood, as men do in this time!"
+
+In a few days after, Mrs. Catherine and her train, including Alice
+Aytoun and her maid Bessie, left Edinburgh for the Tower. In
+consideration of the six months' delay to which Lewis had reluctantly
+submitted, Mrs. Aytoun as reluctantly consented that her little daughter
+should pay a brief visit to Mrs. Catherine--a visit which was by no
+means to exceed the limits of a month.
+
+Jacky and Bessie, under the safe-conduct of Johnnie Halflin, were to
+travel by the coach. When the youthful trio reached the starting-place
+in high glee, an early coach had just arrived from one of the many
+village-towns in the vicinity of Edinburgh. Jacky's quick eye discerned,
+among the little knot of bystanders, a tall lad of some nineteen or
+twenty years, engaged in superintending the collection of boxes
+belonging to an elderly woman, who stood with a slightly fluttered,
+agitated look upon the pavement below. The large Paisley shawl, the
+mighty leghorn bonnet--Jacky threw over them a glance of hasty
+recognition. Their owner turned her head. The thin, long upper lip was
+not quivering now--a glance of troubled joy was in the eye--Jacky
+hastily ran to speak to her. It was Jean Miller. Bessie drew near also.
+In Johnnie Halflin's presence, Bessie would have had no objection to a
+slight flirtation with the young doctor, Jean Miller's genteel nephew.
+The tall, slight lad drew himself up, however, with the slightest
+possible recognition. He had a soul above flirtation with maid-servants.
+
+"Andrew's maister, I'm meaning the doctor he's serving his time wi', has
+ta'en in a daft gentleman to board wi' him," said Jean Miller, aside to
+the sympathetic Jacky, "and so there wasna room for the callant, and it
+was needful he should get up-putting in a strange house. Sae it chanced,
+when I was in seeing him, that I saw some mair neighbors o' his,
+collegianers, and ae young doctor, that was unco chief wi' him; and it
+appears Andrew--he's a kindly callant, and has been a' his days--had
+been telling them o' his auntie, and how I was anxious about him in the
+strange place, where he had nae mother's e'e ower him, nor onybody to
+keep him right. Sae what did they do--the young doctor and the auldest
+o' the students, but they said, that if Andrew would get his auntie to
+come in and take a house, they would a' bide wi' me, and that they would
+be mair comfortable a'thegither, and could help ane anither in their
+learning. Sae ye may think Andrew was blythe to come out to tell me,
+and seeing I'm wearing into years, and a'body likes to have a house o'
+their ain, and in especial for the laddie's sake, that he may be wiled
+to care mair for hame, than for the vanities that have ruined lads of
+promise by the hunder before him, as I ken ower weel, I didna swither;
+and the house is ta'en, and the plenishing's bought, and I'm gaun hame
+the day. It's a great change to me, but--Andrew, my man, yon blue box is
+mine too--it'll be a great ease to my mind to hae my laddie aye in my
+ain e'e; and I hope the Lord will send a blessing on't. It's a' for the
+lad's guid I'm anxious. Guid kens, I would have little thought o' mysel
+that am withered, and auld, and past my strength, if it werena for him."
+
+The journey was accomplished in safety. Little Alice was established
+again at the rounded window of that pretty bower of hers, looking over,
+through the golden air, to the quiet house of Merkland, with no phantom
+of grief or pain or sorrow, throwing its shadow now between; but
+everything around and before, throwing out that sunny light of hope and
+promise, beautiful to see.
+
+The day after their arrival, Anne set out to visit Esther Fleming. Lewis
+had not thought of any anxiety of Esther's; unfortunately, very much as
+his intercourse with the Aytouns had improved him Lewis was still by no
+means given to any great consideration of other people's anxieties, and
+therefore he had suffered the paper which Anne sent specially for her,
+containing the first public notice of Norman's innocence, to lie useless
+in his library without the least remembrance of Esther. He had not the
+same bond to her as Anne had, it is true, for Esther had never bestowed
+any great share of her patronage upon "the strange woman's bairn."
+
+A little way from the gate of Merkland, Anne met Marjory Falconer.
+Marjory had the slightest possible air of timidity hanging upon her,
+with a singular grace. She was a little afraid of Anne's reception of
+her intended marriage--whether she already knew--and if she would
+lecture, or rally her.
+
+"Come with me to the Tower first," said Marjory, drawing Anne's arm
+within her own. "I want to see little Alice Aytoun--and I have a great
+deal to say to you."
+
+"I am glad you have the grace to acknowledge that," said Anne, smiling;
+"but I do think, Marjory, that some of it should have been said sooner."
+
+"Anne!" exclaimed Marjory Falconer, with one of her violent blushes,
+"you would not have had _me_ speak to _you_, the way young ladies speak
+in novels."
+
+"Many young ladies in novels speak very sensibly, Marjory," said Anne.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Very well--never mind, that is all over now. Tell me of your own
+matters, Anne--you have not returned to Merkland as you went away; there
+is to be no more brooding, no more unhappiness?"
+
+Anne told her story briefly, as they went up Oranside. Marjory was much
+affected. To her strong, joyous spirit, in its vigorous contendings with
+mere external evil, and now in the prospective strength and honor of its
+new, grave, happy household life, the mention of these agonies came with
+strange power. Nothing like them, as the fair promise of her future
+went, should ever enter the healthful precincts of the Manse of
+Portoran, yet her heart swelled within her in deep sympathy as the
+hearts of those swell who feel that they themselves also could bear like
+perils and miseries--the true fraternity.
+
+In the inner drawing-room they found little Alice alone, and there
+ensued some gayer _badinage_, which Marjory bore with wonderful patience
+and a considerable amount of blushing laughter, inevitable in the
+circumstances. "The only thing is," said Marjory, with a look of comical
+distress, "what I shall do with Ralph--I wish somebody would marry
+him--I do wish some one would do me the special favor of marrying
+Ralph!"
+
+Little Alice Aytoun looked up in wonder. It was Alice's wont to be
+greatly puzzled with those speeches of Marjory's, and quite at a loss to
+know how much was joke, and how much earnest.
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Marjory, laying her hand on Alice's shoulder. "I
+think it would have been a very much more sensible thing for you, little
+Alice Aytoun, to have fallen in love with my poor brother Ralph, who
+needs somebody to take care of him, than with that rational, prudent
+Lewis of Anne's who can take such very good care of himself."
+
+Alice drew herself up, and was half inclined to be angry; but glancing
+up to Marjory's face, ended in laughing, blushing and wondering.
+
+"And yet that must have been very unsatisfactory too," said Marjory,
+smoothing Alice's fair hair as she would have done a child's, "for then,
+I had been certainly _thirled_ to Falcon's Craig to take care of you
+both--to see that Ralph was not too rough with you, and that you were
+too gentle with him. No, we must have some one who can hold the reins.
+Altogether you have chosen better for yourself, little Alice--Lewis will
+take care of you. But who shall I get to manage Ralph?"
+
+"Perhaps Anne will," suggested Alice wickedly.
+
+Anne was full three-and-twenty, and she was not even engaged! Little
+Alice, with a touch of girlish generosity, felt the superiority of her
+own position almost painful.
+
+"Hush, little girl," said the prompt Marjory. "Anne is not a
+horsewoman; besides I won't endanger a friend's interest, even for the
+sake of getting Ralph off my hands. Anne is--"
+
+"Oh! is Anne engaged?--is Anne engaged?" cried little Alice, clapping
+her hands. Alice had been a good deal troubled by this same want of an
+engagement for Anne, and had even been secretly cogitating, in her own
+mind, whether it might not be possible to direct the attention of her
+grave brother James to the manifold good qualities of Lewis's sister.
+
+"Now, pray, do you two brides leave me undisturbed in my humble
+quietness," said Anne, good-humoredly. "Why there is Jeanie Coulter to
+be married next week--and then yourselves--if I do not hold my ground,
+there will not be a single representative left of the young womanhood of
+Strathoran and that is a calamity to be avoided by all means. I must
+really go to Esther Fleming's now. Do you go with me, Marjory?"
+
+Marjory assented, and they left the Tower; instead of going directly to
+Esther Fleming's house, Anne went round by the mill. On reaching Mrs.
+Melder's, they found that good woman standing, with a puzzled look,
+before her table, on which lay a parcel, which Anne had sent with Jacky,
+of mourning for the child. Lilie herself stood by, regarding the little
+black frock, in which she was dressed, with a look of childish gravity.
+The mourning chilled the little heart, though after being convinced that
+nothing ailed papa, mamma, or Lawrie, Lilie, in Anne's bed-chamber, the
+previous night, had heard of her uncle's death, with only that still awe
+natural to the blythe little spirit, "feeling its life in every vein."
+She did not know the strange uncle Patrick, who was dead. It only
+subdued the gay voice a very little, and sent some sad speculations into
+the childish head--a place where grave speculations are rife enough
+sometimes, whether we of the elder generation discern them or no.
+
+When Anne and Marjory approached the door, the child ran to meet them.
+"Oh, aunt Anne--my aunt Anne!"
+
+Marjory Falconer looked puzzled--she had not heard this part of Anne's
+story.
+
+"This is my niece," said Anne, with a slight tremor. "This is Lilias
+Rutherford, my brother Norman's child."
+
+"Anne!" exclaimed Marjory, in amazement, "what do you mean?" Mrs. Melder
+pressed forward no less astonished.
+
+"This little stranger," said Anne, holding the child's hand, "is the
+daughter of my brother Norman, of whom you have heard so much,
+Marjory--my niece, Lilias Rutherford."
+
+Marjory Falconer, in the extremity of her astonishment, snatched up
+Lilie in her arms, and ran out with her into the open sunlight, as if to
+satisfy herself that Anne's new-found niece was indeed the little
+Spanish Lilie, whose strange coming to the mill had been so great a
+wonder to the countryside.
+
+"Ye're no meaning you, Miss Anne?" exclaimed Mrs. Melder, anxiously,
+"it's only a joke wi' Miss Falconer--ye're no meaning it?"
+
+"Indeed I am," said Anne, "Lilie is truly my niece, Mrs. Melder; the
+daughter of a brother who has been long lost to us, but whom we have now
+found again."
+
+"Eh!" cried Mrs. Melder, "that'll be the auld leddy's son that was said
+to have killed anither man--and ye wad aye ken it, Miss Anne? Keep me!
+To think of me telling ye about the leddy, and you kenning a' the time
+wha the bairn was."
+
+"No, you do me injustice," said Anne, eagerly. "At that time I had not
+the slightest idea who Lilie was, and it is only a week or two since I
+was certain."
+
+Mrs. Melder did not look perfectly contented. "Weel, nae doubt it's my
+pairt to be thankfu' that the bairn has friends o' her ain, that can be
+better for her than me--and it's like ye'll do taking her to Merkland,
+Miss Anne?" Mrs. Melder lifted the corner of her apron to her eye, and
+tried to look offended and indifferent.
+
+"I want to take her down with me to-day," said Anne, "and we can arrange
+about that afterwards. Lilie, come here, I want you to go with me to
+Merkland."
+
+Mrs. Melder took Lilie's little bonnet, and drew the child to her knee
+to put it on. "And they're gaun to take ye away frae me, my lamb! but
+ye'll aye mind us, Lilie? and when ye're a grand laddy, ye'll no forget
+the wee house at the mill, that ye lived in when ye were a bairn?" Mrs.
+Melder's eyes were over-flowing.
+
+"Dinna greet," whispered Lilie, clinging to her kind nurse, "if my aunt
+Anne takes me to stay at Merkland, I'll come down every day--me and
+Jacky--and when mamma comes, she'll come and see you. Eh!" cried Lilie,
+forgetting her sympathy with Mrs. Melder in her remembrance of one
+dearer than she; "you never saw a lady so bonnie as my mamma!"
+
+"Ay, but, Lilie," said the good woman, applying the apron to her eyes
+again, "ye dinna think how we'll miss ye here. There'll aye be the wee
+bed empty at nicht, and aye the wee facie away in the morning. Oh!
+Lilie, my lamb!"
+
+"But I'll come down every day," said Lilie, in consolation; "and when
+mamma comes, I'll bring her to see you, and papa, and Lawrie; and Jacky
+will bring me every day, and when I'm a big lady, I'll come my lane."
+
+They went down Oranside together, Lilie holding a hand of Anne and
+Marjory, and skipping gaily between them. Marjory Falconer spoke little:
+she had not yet overcome her surprise.
+
+Esther Fleming sat by the door of her cottage, knitting a stocking, and
+enjoying the sunshine. Her young niece was going lightly about within,
+"redding up" the lightsome clean apartment. The old woman looked very
+cheerful, neat and comfortable, her snow-white muslin cap covering her
+gray hair, and closely surrounding her sensible, kindly face. She
+started from her seat as she saw Anne.
+
+"Eh, Miss Anne, are ye come at last?" but her face darkened with
+disappointment as she perceived Marjory and the child.
+
+"I would have come sooner, Esther," said Anne, "but that I thought you
+had been told."
+
+"Told what?" Esther staggered back to her seat, and sitting down there,
+supported her head firmly between her hands. "For guid sake, Miss Anne,
+say it out, whatever it is. Let me hear it at once. Young lady go away,
+and let my bairn tell me her tidings."
+
+"I may tell them before all the world Esther," said Anne. "Norman is
+innocent, known and declared to be so, in the face of all men, free to
+return to his own house and name, in honor and peace, and good fame. All
+our sorrow and trouble for him are over. He is safe, Esther. He is
+justified in the sight of the world."
+
+The old woman uttered a cry--a low, wild, unconscious cry. She might
+have done the same had it been bitter sorrow that overwhelmed her,
+instead of a very agony and deluge of joy and thankfulness. She threw
+her apron over her head--under its covering they could see the motion of
+her hands, the bowing of her head. Prayers innumerable, offered by night
+and day for eighteen years, that had lain unanswered till this time,
+before yon Throne in Heaven, were pouring back upon her now in a flood
+of blessedness. It was meet that they should stand apart in silent
+reverence, while thus, in the presence of the Highest, His old and
+faithful servant rendered thanks, where so long she had poured forth her
+petition for mercy.
+
+At last she raised her head--her clear and kindly features trembling yet
+with the storm of joy that had swept over them; her eye fell upon the
+child. She had seen Lilie once or twice before, but never before in this
+strong light which tinged everything with a remembrance of Norman. She
+started to her feet: "Wha are ye, bairn? wha are ye?--for ony sake, Miss
+Anne, tell me wha this is?"
+
+Anne took Lilie's hand, and led her to Esther's side; the child looked
+up wonderingly with those large dark wistful eyes of hers, almost as
+Christian Lilie had been wont to look--Anne placed her in the arms of
+her father's devoted, loving friend. "Esther, you have a better right to
+her than I--she is my brother's child--she is the daughter of Norman,
+for whom you have sorrowed and prayed so long."
+
+And Marjory Falconer stood apart, repeating to herself in a low voice,
+which trembled sometimes, that Psalm, the blessing of the good man, sung
+by the Hebrew people in the old time, as they journeyed to Jerusalem,
+and familiar now to us in Scotland, as the household words of our own
+land--
+
+    "Behold each man that fears the Lord,
+      Thus blessed shall he be,
+     The Lord shall out of Sion send,
+       His blessing unto thee,
+     Thou shalt Jerusalem's good behold,
+       While thou on earth dost dwell,
+     Thou shalt thy children's children see,
+       And peace on Israel!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+
+The months travelled on peacefully; Jeanie Coulter and Walter Foreman
+were married with all due mirth and rejoicing. Ada Mina was reigning
+now, in the absence of all rival powers, acknowledged belle and youthful
+beauty of Strathoran; and had been thrown into an immense flutter, to
+the great dismay and manifest injury of a young Muirland laird from the
+west, who had come to take lessons in agriculture from Mr. Coulter, and
+was very assiduously paying court to Mr. Coulter's daughter--by a hint
+from Mrs. Catherine, of a possible visit to the Tower of the Honorable
+Giles. Little Harry Coulter, the Benjamin of Harrows, was more
+desperately in love than ever with the stranger Lilie, now living at
+Merkland, in her full dignity as Merkland's niece; and with his first
+knife had already constructed, with mighty deliberation and care, a
+splendid model of a patent plough, to be laid at the small feet of his
+liege lady, who unfortunately had no manner of appreciation of patent
+ploughs, and greatly preferred Charlie Ferguson's present, a boat--a
+veritable boat with little white silken sails, elaborated in the
+Woodsmuir nursery by Mary Ferguson and Flora Macalpine, and which could
+actually, with a fairy cargo of moss and ruddy autumnal wild-flowers,
+make genuine voyages upon the Oran, to the delight of Lilie and the
+Woodsmuir party, and the immense disgust of Harry Coulter. Lilie was
+becoming a great pet at Merkland, "evendown spoiled," as Mrs. Melder
+said, with the slightest possible tinge of jealousy; the constant
+companion and pupil of Anne, the plaything of Lewis, and even--so great
+was the witchery of the fair fresh childhood--a favorite with Mrs. Ross
+herself, whom aunt Anne taught Lilie to approach with the greatest
+reverence, and to call grand-mamma--mamma would not do. Lilie stoutly
+resisted the bestowal of that sacred name upon any individual except the
+one enthroned in the loyal little heart, the _bonniest_ of all existent
+ladies; the especial _mother_ of the loving child.
+
+In the beginning of winter, Anne paid her promised visit to Christian,
+carrying little Lilie with her. New life was budding again in the large
+melancholy heart which had lived through a lingering death for so many
+years. A deep sorrow, and tender remembrance of the dead carried about
+with her in religious silence, shunning common sight and common comment,
+did not prevent this. It was not meet that the griefs of such a spirit
+should pass lightly away, or was it possible; but bordering the deep
+stillness of that lasting sorrow were other holds on life. Hope for
+Marion, the little sister of her happier days; reverent enjoyment of
+God's mercies, which one who had bowed to His chastisements so long was
+not like to hold lightly; a sympathy, exquisitely deep and tender, with
+everything of nature, and much of humanity--all swelling up from the
+strong vitality, healthful and pure and heaven-dependant, which God had
+placed, as a fountain in his servant's heart, before He laid her mighty
+load upon her.
+
+Anne and the child remained for a considerable time with Christian. She
+had settled again in the old cottage, and was already making
+arrangements for the repair of Redheugh. When Anne parted with her, it
+was in the confidence of meeting her again in the end of the year, when
+Norman and Marion should have returned; a light passed over the wan
+face, as Christian said those words, but still she did not say from
+whence the exiles were to return. Anne could not press the question, and
+the time was not very long to wait. Lilie returned with her to Merkland.
+
+The year waned; the December days again darkened over the sky of
+Strathoran. Mr. Lumsden of Portoran had refurnished his Manse, in a
+style which utterly scandalized Mrs. Bairnsfather.--Some one presented
+him with a whole library of additional books--the same individual that
+had lately put into his hand money enough to build a school-house in the
+hamlet at Oran Brig, at which already masons and joiners were working
+merrily, and under whose shelter Mr. Lumsden himself had vowed to
+preach, let the Presbytery storm as it pleased. Mrs. Bairnsfather moved
+her husband to appeal the case to the Assembly this time, if the Synod's
+thunders proved unavailing. Mr. Bairnsfather, very much disgusted as he
+was--was dubious. A certain mighty man in an obscure Fife parish, lying
+on the south side of the Tay--a wondrous visionary man, who seeing the
+first experiments made with gas in the streets of the mighty cities,
+had tubes laid for the conveyance of the same to the pleasant parlors of
+that rural Manse of Kilmany, had discovered a mighty truth by that time,
+and was beginning to throw the rays of it from that marvellous lamp of
+his, over the Tay, to be over all Scotland ere long. The truth that
+preaching proprieties would not do; that ministers of Christ's holy
+evangel must preach Christ--nothing less, and that the name of the Lord
+was the strong Tower--it and no other--in which purity of soul and life
+could be kept unsullied and undimmed for ever. And vigorous athletic
+forces, whose front rank, among other sons of Anak, stood that restless
+man of might and labor, so long called fire-brand and fanatic, the Rev.
+John Lumsden of Portoran, were pressing into the highest places of the
+Church, with this greatest of Scottish men at their head. So Mr.
+Bairnsfather sagaciously, over his gardening, resolved that it might be
+well to proceed with caution in this matter, and that the eye of a
+General Assembly in this great renewing of its youth, might see
+shortcomings in his own ministerial life and conversation, not
+particularly adapted for the light of the day; in consequence of which
+prudent doubts Mr. Lumsden escaped a call to the bar of the supreme
+judicatory of the Church.
+
+He was not married yet, however, for Marjory Falconer was still
+disconsolately, and in vain, looking out for some one who would do her
+the especial favor of marrying Ralph.
+
+Mrs. Ross was becoming reconciled to the inevitable marriage of Lewis.
+It was to take place some time about the new year--the special period
+depending upon the looked for arrival of Norman. Little Alice, with her
+girlish kindness of heart, had put a decided negative upon Lewis's
+proposal, that his mother should leave Merkland. Surely they could all
+dwell together in unity. Alice had considerable confidence in her own
+powers of charming. To a little bride of eighteen, whom all the stronger
+natures round her instinctively conspired to guard and defend from evil,
+the confidence was natural and becoming enough.
+
+In the meantime, Alice had been plotting somewhat ineffectually to
+direct the especial attention of that grave brother James of hers to
+Anne, and Anne's to him. It by no means succeeded.--They were the best
+friends in the world, but clearly, even to the solicitous eye of Alice,
+as comfortably indifferent to each other as it was possible for very
+good friends to be.
+
+Mr. Ferguson's work went on prosperously in the bleak lands of Loelyin
+and Lochend. The sides of the glen of Oranmore were covered with the
+flocks of the Southland farmer. In the glen itself, those roofless walls
+stood still desolate and silent, the end of many a stern pilgrimage made
+by the ejected Macalpines, who from their cottages in the low-country,
+and from fishing-boats on the wide seashore beyond Portoran, looked
+forward constantly with silent prayers, and stern onwaiting for the
+return of their chief, and the recovery of their homes.
+
+He, this hapless chief of theirs, had heard ere now of their calamity,
+and in an agony of bitter earnestness had plunged again into his labor,
+his hope swelling within him, in a burst of force which made it almost
+painful--for them--also like himself heirs of the soil--and for their
+inheritance. It had been some relief to his burning eagerness, could he
+have cried his war-cry as his ancestors did, and rushed on--
+
+To the rescue! There never was deed of olden arms, or bold
+knight-errantry more instinct with chivalrous honor and energy than
+this, though the battle-field was counting-room and market-place, and
+the wrestler a broken man!
+
+Lord Gillravidge had returned to Strathoran, greatly to the chagrin of
+his useful friend, Mr. Fitzherbert, who had been, through all the
+intervening time laboriously endeavoring to convince his Lordship of the
+insupportable _ennui_ of this out-of-the-world place of his. His
+Lordship was more than half convinced; nevertheless there was excellent
+shooting, and Lord Gillravidge filled his house with sportsmen, to the
+defiance of _ennui_, which reigning supreme in presence of _one_ bore,
+seems to be expected to dissipate itself in the society of twenty.
+
+One evening late in the year, Mr. Fitzherbert chanced inconsiderately to
+pass through the little hamlet at the Brig of Oran, after the darkening.
+It was a beautiful, clear, frosty night.--Hardy, strong, red and blue
+children, were sliding on the frozen Oran; young men and douce fathers,
+had been tempted to join them. Cottage doors were open on all sides,
+revealing homely interiors, partially lighted by the kindly firelight;
+grandmothers seated by the firesides; mothers stirring with care and
+pains-taking the mighty pot of wholesome "parritch" for their evening
+meal; elder sisters, eager to be out upon the slide, rapidly, and with
+much noise, putting upon the table bowls and plates to receive the same;
+while some who had finished the process stood at the door calling
+impatiently to boys and men, to "come in afore the parritch cules."
+Through this peaceful place, Mr. Fitzherbert inconsiderately passed
+alone. He had scarcely entered it, when he was recognised by a band of
+children on the ice. The youngsters of the Brig of Oran were just in
+such a state of exhilaration, as made them ready for mischief in all its
+possible varieties. "Eh!" cried out a stout lad of fourteen, at the top
+of his considerable voice, "younder's the man that Angus Macalpine shore
+like a sheep at the stepping stanes!"
+
+"Great cry and little woo!" shouted another, adding also the latter line
+of the proverb, in all its ludicrous expressiveness.
+
+"Eh man!" continued a third, "I wadna hae lain still, and gotten my head
+cuttit when I wasna wanting it."
+
+Mr. Fitzherbert was perfectly blind and dumb with rage; in the midst of
+a chorus of laughter he hurried on.
+
+"Never you heed, my man," said the shoe-maker's wife, known as "a randy"
+beyond the precincts of the Brig of Oran, "ye've gotten new
+anes--they're grown again."
+
+"Grown again!" ejaculated a little old wifie, whose profession was that
+of an itinerant small-ware dealer, and who was privileged as an
+original, "grown again!" and she lifted her quick little withered hand
+to Fitzherbert's face, as she glided in before him; "let-abee
+shearing--I wad a bawbee the new anes wadna stand a pouk."
+
+And secure in the protection of the hardy mason, under whose roof-tree
+she was to receive shelter for the night, the old wifie extended her
+fingers to the graceful ornament of hair which curled over Mr.
+Fitzherbert's lip. We cannot tell what dread revelations might have
+followed, had not Lord Gillravidge's unfortunate friend dashed the old
+woman aside, and saved himself by flight. Poor old Nannie paid for her
+boldness by a slight cut upon her withered brow--her host growled a
+thundery anathema, and the well-disposed lads of the hamlet pursued the
+fugitive with gibes and shoutings of revengeful derision up to the very
+gate of Strathoran.
+
+After which stimulating adventure, Mr. Fitzherbert's arguments became so
+potent and earnest, that Lord Gillravidge was moved by them, and finding
+likewise that Mr. Whittret turned out by no means the most honorable of
+stewards, and that this great house was enormously expensive, his
+Lordship took it into his serious consideration whether it might not be
+the wisest course to get rid of Strathoran.
+
+December passed away--the new year came, and still there were no tidings
+of Norman. Anne became anxious and uneasy; but Christian's letters said,
+and said with reason, that the delay of a week or so, was no unusual
+matter in a long sea voyage. Where was he then, this exile brother?
+
+Lewis was not to be put off so easily. He did not see why a matter of so
+much importance as his marriage should be delayed for the uncertain
+arrival of Norman. So the day was determined on at last; the ceremony
+was to be performed at the Tower, by Mrs. Catherine's especial
+desire--in the end of January; if Norman came before that time, so much
+the better; if not they would go on without him.
+
+A fortnight of the new year was gone already; the Aytouns had arrived at
+the Tower. Mrs. Aytoun and her son, under the escort of Lewis, had gone
+down to Merkland to pay a formal visit to Mrs. Ross. Anne was at the
+Tower with Lilie. She had been there of late, even more than usual. It
+was Mrs. Catherine's desire that her favorite should remain with her
+permanently, when Alice had taken her place in Merkland. It pleased Anne
+greatly to have the alternative, but until the return of Norman, she
+made no definite arrangement.
+
+The afternoon was waning--Alice was in very high spirits, a little
+tremulous and even something excited. Her wedding-day began to approach
+so nearly.
+
+She had been sitting close by Anne's side, engaged in a long and earnest
+conversation, wherein the elder sister had many grave things to speak
+of, while the younger, leaning on her in graceful dependence, listened
+and assented reverently, forgetting for the moment what a very important
+little personage, she herself, the future Mrs. Ross of Merkland, was.
+
+Mrs. Catherine entered the room suddenly, with a newspaper in her hand,
+and a triumphant expression in her face. "Here is news, Anne, news worth
+hearkening to. Did I not know the cattle would not be suffered to do
+their evil pleasure long in the house of a good man? Now in a brief
+hour, we will be clear of the whole race of them--unclean beasts and
+vermin as they are. Look at this."
+
+Anne started when she did so; it was a long advertisement setting forth,
+in auctioneer eloquence, the beauties and eligibilities of the desirable
+freehold property of Strathoran, which was to be offered for sale, on a
+specified day in spring, within a specified place in Edinburgh.
+
+"What think you of that?" said Mrs. Catherine. "We have smitten the
+Philistines and driven them out of the land--a land that it is my hope
+will be polluted with the footsteps of the like of them never more in my
+day, though truly I am in doubt how we can get the dwelling purified, to
+make it fit for civilized folk."
+
+"And what do you mean to do?" said Anne, eagerly. "It may be bought by
+some other stranger: it may be--"
+
+"Hold your peace, Anne," said Mrs. Catherine; "are you also joining
+yourself to the witless bairns that would give counsel to gray hairs. It
+may be! I say it shall be! The siller will aye be to the fore, whether I
+am or no, and think you I will ever stand by again, and let a strange
+man call himself master of Strathoran--the house that Isabel Balfour
+went into a bride, and went out of again, only to her rest? It has been
+a thorn in my very side, this one unclean and strange tenant of it.
+Think you I will ever suffer another?"
+
+"And what then?" said Anne, with anxious interest.
+
+"We must get it bought, without doubt," said Mrs. Catherine. "You are
+slower of the uptake, Anne, than is common with you. Whether I myself
+have, or have not, sufficient siller is another matter. There are folk
+in Scotland, who know the word of Catherine Douglas, and can put faith
+in it. Before three months are over our heads, an it be not otherwise
+ordained, Archie Sutherland shall be master of his land again."
+
+"Oh! Anne, are you not glad?" exclaimed little Alice: "we shall have Mr.
+Sutherland back again."
+
+Anne did not feel herself particularly called upon to express gladness,
+but she looked up inquiringly into Mrs. Catherine's face.
+
+"I said nothing of the lad coming home," said Mrs. Catherine firmly.
+"Alison Aytoun, you are but a bairn, and will never be tried, so far as
+I can see the lot before you, by thoughts or purposes of a stern and
+troublous kind. It is other with you, Anne, as I know. This Archie
+Sutherland, has wasted with his riotous living the substance given in
+charge to him from his father, and from his father's God. It is not meet
+he should come back unscathed to this leisure and honor; it is right he
+should clear himself by labor and toil, not of the sin before God, which
+is atoned for in a holier way, but of the sin in the sight of man. I
+say, I also would be sinning against a justice, which neither fails nor
+alters, and discouraging strong hearts that held upon their warfare
+manfully, when he fell under the hand of the adversary, were I bringing
+back Archie Sutherland at this time to the full honor and possessions of
+his father's house. I will let him stay in his trial and probation,
+child, till he can show labor of his own hands, bravely done and like a
+man. The gallant is nearer to my own heart than ever man was, but Sholto
+my one brother; but it is meet he should render due justice after he has
+done evil."
+
+Anne bowed her head in silent acquiescence: she did not speak. Mrs.
+Catherine was right.
+
+"But this must be looked to without delay," said Mrs. Catherine, seating
+herself in her own great chair, while the gloaming shadows gathered
+darkly in the room; "we must buy his land back for him now. I will speak
+of it to Mr. Foreman this very night. Alison, go your ways, and sing to
+me the ballad of the wayfaring man."
+
+And in the soft shadowy gloaming, little Alice seated herself at the
+piano, and began to sing. You could scarcely perceive her fair head in
+the dreamy gloom of the large apartment. Further in, the red glow of the
+fire flickered ruddy on the stately form of Mrs. Catherine, bringing out
+with momentary flashes sometimes the shadow of her strong face in bold
+relief against the wall. Still more in the shade sat Anne, very still
+and thoughtful, looking at the old friend, and the young beside her, and
+thinking of others far away. Over them all were these low floating notes
+of music hopeful and sad--
+
+    Thy foot is weary, thy cheek is wan,
+    Come to thy kindred, wayfaring man!
+
+Down stairs in the snug housekeeper's room, a little party was
+assembled, merrier and younger than were wont to be seen within that
+especial sanctum of the famous Mrs. Euphan Morison. Mrs. Euphan herself
+had gone to Portoran, to make provision of many things necessary for the
+jubilee and festivities, which in the ensuing week were to be holden in
+the Tower. She was not to return till late that night, and Jacky had
+taken advantage of her absence.
+
+Round the fire, in the early winter gloaming, sat little Bessie, Johnnie
+Halflin, Jacky herself and Flora Macalpine. There was to be a quiet
+_reunion_ in the Tower that night, and Flora came, in attendance upon
+little Mary Ferguson, who was gaily engaged at that moment, in the hall,
+playing hide and seek with Lilie Rutherford.
+
+The little company in the housekeeper's room were very merry. Jacky was
+repeating to them that sad adventure of Sir Artegall, which ended in his
+captivity to the most contemptuous of Amazons, the warlike Radigund;
+with whispers innumerable, and stifled laughter, her companions
+listened, or pretended to listen.
+
+At that time, the gig from the Sutherland Arms, which had formerly
+conveyed James Aytoun to the Tower, was tumbling along the high-road in
+the same direction again. At some little distance from the entrance to
+Mrs. Catherine's ground, two gentlemen alighted, and dismissing it,
+ascended to the Tower.
+
+One of them--he was bronzed by the beating of a sun more fervid than
+that of Scotland--was casting keen glances of joyous recognition round
+him--at the Tower--at Merkland--at a light in a high window there, which
+he fancied he knew, and still more eagerly at Strathoran in the dim
+distance. Its name had rung strangely in his ear from the tongue of the
+"crooked helper" at the inn, who drove their humble vehicle--"mony
+thanks to ye, Strathoran." It sent a thrill to the heart of Archibald
+Sutherland.
+
+Yes, Archibald Sutherland! it was no other!
+
+An older man leaned on his arm. In the darkness you could not
+distinguish particularly either his face or form; he was tall, with an
+elastic buoyant footstep, and was looking about him in a singular abrupt
+way, now here, now there, like a man in a dream.
+
+They approached the Tower door--it was closed. Archibald's friend had
+been eager hitherto, but now he lingered and seemed to wish delay.
+Archibald was entirely in the dark as to the reason. There was a ruddy
+light gleaming from a low window near at hand. The stranger drew near to
+look in, almost as if he knew it.
+
+The room was full of the ruddy fire-light--the two dark figures at the
+window were quite unseen by those merry youthful people about the fire.
+Some one had slightly opened the window a little while before, for the
+room was very hot, and the door had been closed, that graver ears might
+not hear their laughter.
+
+Jacky sat in the midst, her dark face glowing keen and bright. She was
+reciting vigorously that doleful adventure of the luckless Sir Artegall.
+The woman's weedes put upon him by the disdainful Amazon; the white
+apron--the distaff in his hand, "that he thereon should spin both flax
+and tow;" his low place among the brave knights, whom he found "spinning
+and carding all in comely row;" and
+
+     "---- forst through penury and pyne,
+    To doe these works to their appointed dew,
+      For nought was given them to sup or dyne,
+    But what their hands could earn by twisting linen twyne."
+
+A very sad thing, doubtless, for the hapless Sir Artegall, and
+furnishing very sufficient occasion for the "deep despight" and "secret
+shame" of his lofty and royal Lady Britomart, but by no means calculated
+to impress any deep feeling of pity or compassion upon that somewhat
+ungovernable knot of youngsters.--Flora Macalpine, too kindly and
+good-humored to hurt Jacky's feelings, had bent her head down upon her
+knee to hide her laughter; Johnnie Halflin leaned against the
+mantelpiece, shaking with secret earthquakes; Bessie had her head turned
+to the door, and was gazing at it steadily, and biting her rosy lip.
+They had all an awe of Jacky. It would not do, however. That picture,
+with its gradual heightening; at last the sad honor of the unfortunate
+knight, steadily spinning in his woman's weedes, because his word was
+pledged to the despightful Radigund,--there was a general explosion--it
+was impossible to withstand that.
+
+Jacky stopped suddenly, and withdrew from the laughters in lofty
+offence. She herself had a perception of the allegory, and was hurt and
+wounded at its reception, as we see greater people sometimes, whose
+myths a laughing world will persist in receiving as rather grotesque
+than sublime.
+
+Jacky was almost sulky; she sat down in the shade, and turned her head
+resolutely away. Flora drew near to her in deprecatory humbleness. Jacky
+resisted and resented proudly.
+
+Just then the door opened; the tall man, leaning on Archibald
+Sutherland's arm, gave a nervous start. Archibald had begun to weary of
+his station here, at the window of the housekeeper's room. His friend
+and employer, Mr. Sinclair was exhibiting a singular fancy to-night. He
+looked in wonderingly to see the reason of the sudden start.
+
+It was only the entrance of two little girls; one of them blooming and
+ruddy, with radiant golden hair. The other paler, with a little frock
+of black silk, and eyes like the night--wistful, spiritual, dark.
+
+"What ails Jacky?" said the new comer.
+
+"Oh, if ye please, Miss Lilie," said Bessie eagerly, "we werena meaning
+ony ill; we only laughed."
+
+Lilie slid gently within Jacky's arm--drew down the hand which supported
+her head, and whispered in her ear--the arm of Mr. Sinclair quivering
+all this time most strangely, as it leaned upon his friend's.
+
+"Dinna be angry," whispered Lilie; "I want you to say Alice Brand. Mary
+never heard it; never mind them. Say Alice Brand to Mary and me."
+
+"Oh! ay, Jacky," echoed Bessie and Johnnie together, "say Alice Brand;
+it's a real bonnie thing."
+
+Jacky was mollified; after a brief pause, caressing Lilie, she began the
+ballad. Little Mary Ferguson, with the fire-light gleaming in her golden
+hair, stood, leaning on the shoulder of her favorite Flora. Lilie was at
+Jacky's knee, lifting up her face of earnest childish interest, and
+listening with all her might. Without, in the darkness stood the
+stranger, eagerly looking in, and holding Archibald's arm.
+
+The first notes of Alice Aytoun's song were sounding up stairs.
+Archibald Sutherland stood still, but with eyes that wandered somewhat,
+and a considerable weariness. This was a most strange freak of Mr.
+Sinclair's--he could not comprehend it.
+
+Her story possessed Jacky and inspired her. She rose as it swelled to
+its climax, and spoke louder.--
+
+    "It was between the night and day
+        When the Fairy folk have power
+     That I fell down in a sinful fray,
+     And twixt life and death was snatched away,
+      To the joyless, elfin bower.
+
+     But wist I of a woman bold,
+       Who thrice my brow durst sign,
+     I might regain my mortal mould
+       As fair a form as thine.
+
+     She crossed him once, she crossed him twice,
+       That lady was so brave;
+     The fouller grew his goblin hue,
+       The darker turned the cave,
+
+     She crossed him thrice, that lady bold,
+       He rose beneath her hand,
+     The fairest knight on Scottish mold,
+       Her brother, Ethert Brand!
+
+    'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood."--
+
+The quick elfin eye shot a glance out into the darkness, and saw the
+listening figures there; the well-known face of young Strathoran! Jacky
+steadily finished the verse--committed Lilie into the hands of Flora
+Macalpine, and shutting the door of the house-keeper's room carefully
+behind her, opened the outer one, and admitted the strangers.
+
+She conducted them up stairs in her own still, excited, elfin way; the
+fumes of the ballad hanging about her still. Mr. Sinclair grasped
+Archibald's arm, as they reached the door of the inner room, and held
+him back. The plaintive hopeful music was floating out again upon the
+soft shadows of the darkening night.
+
+    "Speed thy labor o'er land and sea,
+     Home and kindred are waiting for thee."
+
+They entered, Jacky gliding in before them to light the candles which
+stood upon the table. Mrs. Catherine started up in overwhelming
+surprise--so did Anne and Alice. There was a loud exclamation, "Whence
+come you, gallant and what brings you home?" and a confused uncertain
+welcoming of Archibald. Then they became calmer, and he introduced Mr.
+Sinclair. At this stranger, Jacky when she brought the lights, had
+thrown a long, keen scrutinising glance. There seemed an agitated
+uncertainty about him, which contrasted strangely with his firm lip and
+clear eye. They were seated again at last. A mysterious agitation had
+fallen upon them all, which Archibald could not comprehend. To this
+new-comer Mrs. Catherine's large gray eyes were travelling continually.
+Anne, with nervous timid glances, turned to him again and again. Mr.
+Sinclair himself, generally so frank, and full of universal sympathies,
+was confused and tremulous, speaking incoherently, and saying things
+which had no meaning; Archibald was greatly astonished--even little
+Alice Aytoun began to steal shy glances at the stranger.
+
+Archibald made a sign to Anne, and rising went out--Anne followed. He
+was in high spirits, great in hope, and with prospects more cheering
+than he had ever dreamt of. He began to speak of them as she met him at
+the door.
+
+"Who is he? who is he?" exclaimed Anne eagerly.
+
+Archibald looked at her in amazement. "My employer and friend, Mr.
+Sinclair, Anne. What is the matter? I have come home with him at his own
+special desire. He intends--"
+
+Jacky had been hovering on the stairs. She came up to the door where
+they were standing, and looked at them wistfully, "Oh if ye please, Miss
+Anne--"
+
+"What is it, Jacky?"
+
+Jacky could not tell what it was. She sat down on the stair, and put
+her hands up to her face, and began to cry--her excitement overpowering
+her.
+
+"I cannot bear this," said Anne, wringing her hands nervously. "Jacky,"
+she whispered in her ear--the girl shot down stairs like a spirit.
+
+"Anne!" exclaimed Archibald, "something ails you. I beg you to tell me
+what it is."
+
+"Afterwards--afterwards--" said Anne, hastily. "Go in now, Archibald.
+Jacky, come--"
+
+Jacky returned, leading little Lilie by the hand. Archibald in silent
+amazement, went in again to the inner drawing-room. Anne followed him
+with the child, her face deadly pale, her form trembling.
+
+Mrs. Catherine had changed the position of the lights on the table--one
+of them threw the profile of the stranger in clear shadow on the
+wall--she was looking with a singular scrutiny on the face, and on the
+shade of it. Little Alice Aytoun looked almost afraid. Mr. Sinclair was
+as confused and agitated as ever.
+
+Lilie came in--she drew near Archibald timidly, with some remembrance of
+having seen him before; behind her, Anne stood in stiff excitement,
+watching her motions.
+
+Suddenly the child's quick eye caught the stranger. Mr. Sinclair's arms
+moved tremulously. Lilie looked--wavered--turned back--looked again, her
+dark eyes dilating--her face full of childish earnestness. The time--the
+distance--the slight child's-memory--these did not make darkness enough,
+to veil from her remembrance the well-known face. The child sprang
+forward to the arms of the strong man, who sat trembling there under her
+simple scrutiny; she uttered a cry--Anne only could distinguish the
+latter words of it--they were enough, "My papa!"
+
+And Mrs. Catherine rose, drawing up her stately figure to its full
+height, in solemn, judicial dignity, and advanced to the side of the
+father and child, "I bid you joyous, righteous, peaceful welcome; Norman
+Rutherford, I bid you welcome to your own name and land!"
+
+And this was he! after eighteen years of labor and pain and
+banishment--an assumed name, a strange country, a toilsome life--in joy
+and peace and honor, Norman Rutherford had returned again to his own
+fatherland.
+
+But their joy was too deep and still to bear recording; the manner of
+their rejoicing, the forms of their thankfulness were not such as we can
+dwell on. The serenity of deep and holy happiness, the exuberance of
+new-found blessings!--we cherish those things too deeply in our inmost
+hearts to speak of them; for we are very still, when we are very
+blessed, in Scotland!
+
+At Portoran he had left Christian, Marion, and his son. He had promised
+to return to them immediately, with Anne and Lilie. Mrs. Catherine's
+carriage was ordered for them, and they drove round by Merkland. Anne
+sat, her heart beating joyously, by the side of her new-found brother.
+Little Lilie was nestling in the darkness in her father's arm, pouring
+forth a stream of questions about mamma and Lawrie. All the three were
+half weeping yet, in the tumult and excitement of their joy. The past,
+with all that was dark and painful in it, was lost in the present
+brightness; peace, security--the bond of tender and near relationship no
+longer a secret thing, but recognised now in joy and triumph, an abiding
+gladness all their days. The brother and sister united now for the first
+time in their lives, felt no restraining chillness of new
+acquaintanceship. They knew each other, and rejoiced, with tender pride
+and thanksgiving, in their kindred.
+
+They stopped at Merkland--leading his child by the hand, and supporting
+Anne on his arm, Norman Rutherford entered the house of his fathers. His
+naturally buoyant step was restrained by a grave dignity; the memory of
+the dead hung over these walls--a thousand sad and potent remembrances
+were rising in the in the exile's heart--but withal he had been
+_doubted_ here. He knew that, as it seemed instinctively, and drawing
+his sister's hand more closely through his arm, they entered Mrs. Ross's
+sitting-room together.
+
+He stood gravely at the door waiting for his welcome. Lilie looked up
+wonderingly in his face; he held her hand with such gentle firmness,
+that she could not run to the wondering grand-mamma, who sat there
+staring suspiciously at the new comers. Mrs. Aytoun rose--neglected
+wives, sad and sorrowful, remember those who feel for their hidden
+troubles delicately. She came forward, she looked at him, she held out
+her hands, "Welcome, welcome home."
+
+Mrs. Ross was looking at him now eagerly. James and Lewis had both
+risen--so did she. "Who is this, Anne?" exclaimed Lewis: "Lilie, who is
+this gentleman?"
+
+Mrs. Ross's better angel visited her for that white moment. She advanced
+before either Anne or Lilie could answer. "It is your brother,
+Lewis--your brother Norman; Norman, you are welcome home."
+
+And then a subdued and tender radiance came shining from the eyes of the
+returned son. He led Mrs. Ross to her chair--he called her mother. In
+the revulsion of his generous heart, thinking he had done her wrong, he
+forgot the dark wedding-day long ago which had brought her, a strange
+ruler, to Merkland, and which he spent by his own mother's grave. With
+Lilie on the little stool at her feet, and Norman doing her reverence,
+and all the rest joyous and glad about her, Mrs. Ross forgot it also.
+
+He was to return to Merkland, she insisted, with his wife, their sister,
+and their son. The old house would hold them all. Norman's dark eyes
+brightened into deep radiance. He kissed the harsh step-mother's
+hand--he had done her wrong.
+
+Then he drew Anne's arm through his own once more, and leaving Lilie in
+the carriage, in charge of Mrs. Catherine's careful coachman, went down
+Oranside to Esther Fleming's cottage; but in Esther's recognition there
+was neither pause nor doubt. The manly bronzed cheek, the dark hair with
+its streaks of grey--she did not linger to look at these. She heard the
+light elastic step, the voice so dearly known of old--and it was her
+beautiful laddie, her bairn, her son--not the grave man, who had more
+than reached the highest arch of his life--about whose neck the old
+woman threw her withered arms, as she lifted up her voice and wept.
+
+At last they reached Portoran. The Marion, the little sister of
+Christian Lillie, had a face of thoughtful gracious beauty, such as
+gladdens the eye and heart alike; a saintly peaceful face, in which the
+strength of Christian and the weakness of Patrick were singularly
+blended, for she was like them both. The plough of sorrow had not carved
+its iron furrows on her fair brow, as it had done on Christian's. The
+sunshine of her smile was only chastened with natural tears for the dead
+brother who had gone to his rest; he was not her all in all as he had
+been Christian's.
+
+No, for the little girl rejoicing in a childish exuberance of joy and
+tenderness already in her arms; the beautiful, bold, gallant boy, who
+stood beside her chair; the radiant dark face of the father and husband
+looking upon them with tremulous delight and pride--had all a share.
+Christian too, whose heroic work was done, and the new-found sister
+Anne; there was warm room for them all in the large heart of Marion
+Rutherford. The burning fire of bitter grief had not intensified her
+love upon one--she was the family head, the house-mother--full of all
+gracious affections and sympathies, hopes and happiness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+
+Mrs. Ross was inspired--how or by what means we are not sufficiently
+good metaphysicians to be able to specify--but inspired she was! It
+might be that all the court that had been paid to her of late had
+softened the adamantine heart: it only concerns us to know that softened
+it was. She took immediate counsel with May; she had fires lighted in
+half a dozen bed-chambers. Then the wainscotted parlor was made
+radiant--a fire in its grate "enough," as Duncan said with an
+involuntary grumble, "to keep the decent folk at the Brig of Oran in
+eliding frae this till Canlemas"--and additional candles upon its table.
+Then Mrs. Ross did something more wonderful than all this--the very
+climax and copestone of her unwonted melting of heart. She sent Duncan
+mysteriously up stairs to the attic lumber-room with secret
+instructions. May and Barbara lingered in wonder to what was coming.
+
+A great thing was coming--covered with dust, and grumbling audibly,
+Duncan re-appeared in ten minutes, carrying in his arms a picture--the
+portrait of the lost son of the house of Merkland--the boy's face of the
+exiled Norman, dethroned from its standing in his father's house for
+eighteen weary year.
+
+It was restored again now, and when Mrs. Ross having dismissed the
+servants sat down alone in her bright room, through the dark polished
+walls of which the warm lights were gleaming pleasantly, to wait for her
+guests; the unclouded sunshine of the bold, frank, fearless boy's face
+shone upon her for the first time. It had enough of the indefinite
+family resemblance, to bring her own Lewis before her mind. Lewis had
+gone up to the Tower, but was to return immediately. His mother sat in
+the parlor alone, more cheerily than was her wont, for the blood was
+warming about her heart.
+
+And then they arrived--the whole of them, with all their different
+manifestations of joy; the mother Marion starting in delight at what she
+thought the portrait of her own bright Lawrie, and Norman himself
+heaping up in such generous measure his delicate amends of honor and
+attention to the step-mother, whom he fancied he had wronged. She
+remembered him so different once, in his impetuous youth, that the
+compliment was all the greater now.
+
+Christian and Anne sat by the fire in a quiet corner. Lawrie, proud of
+his new kindred, and bashfully exultant over them all, hovered between
+them and the uncle Lewis, whose good looks and independent young manhood
+already powerfully attracted the boy: while on either side of Mrs. Ross
+herself sat Norman and Marion, and Lilie loyal to the newly-come mamma,
+joining her childish talk to theirs; and all so willing and eager to do
+honor to the head of the household--the sole remnant of an older
+generation. Deep peace fell upon Merkland that night in all its many
+chambers--deeper than had been there before for years.
+
+The evening was not far spent when Archibald Sutherland stole in among
+them, not unwelcome, and with him to the gate of Merkland--no
+further--came Marjory Falconer; she had one word to say to Anne. Anne
+went to her at the gate; it was almost a relief in all this gladness to
+have a minute's breathing time.
+
+"I came to congratulate you, Anne," said Marjory breathlessly. The moon
+was up, and at some little distance a tall dark shadow fell across the
+Oran, which Anne smiled to see. "To wish you manifold joy of all the
+arrivals--_all_, Anne. If I come down to-morrow, will you introduce me
+to your brother?"
+
+"Surely, Marjory," said Anne, "but why not come to-night?"
+
+"I might have come if you had married Ralph," said Marjory laughing,
+"but as it is, a stranger must not intermeddle with your joy. No,
+no--but I shall come to see them all to-morrow. By the by--"
+
+"What, Marjory?"
+
+"Oh, not much--only speaking of Ralph--I have found her at last; I have
+fairly laid my hands upon her. To-morrow I shall have her safely housed
+in Falcon's Craig!"
+
+"Who is it?--what do you mean?"
+
+"The daughter of Nimrod! the mighty huntress! I have got her all safe,
+Anne. I invite you to a wedding at Falcon's Craig in three months. I
+give them three months to do it in."
+
+"You should know the necessary time," said Anne smiling.--"Shall there
+not be two, Marjory?"
+
+"Hush," said Marjory gaily, "or I will retaliate. Now I must go. Mrs.
+Catherine is quite out of sorts for the want of you, Anne; and Alice is
+drooping as prettily as possible. Why did not your Norman come last
+night, and then we might--all of us--have rejoiced over him at the
+Tower?"
+
+The next morning, the first excitement of their joy over, the three
+sisters sat together in the Merkland parlor. Mrs. Ross was
+superintending various domestic matters. Lewis was at the Tower. Norman
+had gone out with his son. Christian, Marion, and Anne were sitting
+together, with Lilie on her stool at their feet, communing "of all that
+was in their heart"--and that was much.
+
+"It was very strange to us," said Marion, "I cannot tell you how
+strange, to hear from Mr. Sutherland--of Merkland, of you, of ourselves.
+He told us our own story--so much as he knew of it, and sought our
+sympathy and pity for his friends. Strangely--most strangely--did we
+feel as he spoke."
+
+"I did not think Archie would have spoken of a thing so private," said
+Anne.
+
+"Nay, do not blame him," said Marion. "He saved our Lawrie's life a few
+days after his arrival; and that of course, even if he had possessed
+fewer good qualities of his own, must have at once opened our hearts,
+and our house to him. But we liked him for himself, and he seemed to
+like us; and then as we knew him better, the home he spoke of, the names
+he mentioned, were very music to Norman's ears. I cannot tell you,
+Anne--you cannot fancy--how your brother has longed and yearned for the
+home we dared not return to."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"And then," continued Marion, "as he gradually became, a member of our
+family, and a very dear friend, we gradually received his confidence. He
+spoke one night of 'little Alice Aytoun.' The name startled us both.
+Norman asked who she was--and then, Anne--by degrees we heard our own
+story--very sad and mysterious he thought it, although he knew not,
+Christian, the half of its sadness. But Anne, he said, was convinced of
+the innocence of her dead brother, and was full of hope for the
+vindication of his memory. 'Who is Anne?' I asked. Mr. Sutherland looked
+astonished for a moment, and then slightly embarrassed. He seemed to
+think it strange that there should be any one who did not know. Anne;
+and, sister Anne, he did you justice. We were strangely excited that
+night, Norman and I. I could not prevail upon him to go to rest. He
+walked about the room with a mixture of joy and fear on his face, that
+only people who have known such a position as ours could realize,
+repeating to himself, 'Anne--the child--my little sister Anne!' It was
+balm to him to think that you had faith in him, and hope for him; and
+yet he was full of fear lest he should endanger"--
+
+Marion paused--the tears came into her eyes; she looked at Christian.
+
+"Go on, Marion," said Christian, leaning her head upon her hand. "Go
+on--he is safe now, and past all peril."
+
+"Our poor Patrick!" exclaimed his younger sister, "my gentle,
+broken-hearted, sad brother! At that time when the eighteenth year was
+nearly past, Norman was afraid--Norman was full of terror, lest any
+exertion made for him should disturb the peace of Patrick. He was as
+willing to suffer for him then, as he was when he went away--that
+terrible time!"
+
+"Do not think of it," said Christian. "We are all at peace now, Marion,
+living and dead; and he the safest, peacefullest, most joyous of us
+all."
+
+"And then he told us of Lilie," said Marion after a long silence. "And
+how you, Anne, became attached to the little stranger child; and we
+listened, endeavoring to look as if we did not know or care--I wonder at
+myself how I succeeded."
+
+"And did you never tell him?" said Anne.
+
+"No. Norman reserved it as a surprise to him when they should reach
+Strathoran. He wondered, I could see, why we were so anxious to come
+here, but he did not ask. Norman regards him almost as a younger
+brother. He is very anxious that he should have a situation more
+suitable for him, than the one he held at Buenos Ayres; but he will
+tell you his arrangements himself;--where is Norman?"
+
+He was out, no one knew where he was.
+
+He was at that moment stooping his lofty head, to enter the door-way of
+a solitary cottage--a very mean and poor one--at some distance from the
+Brig of Oran. Its inhabitant in former days had known Mr. Norman of
+Merkland well. She had been an old woman when he left home--she was a
+very old woman, decrepid and feeble, now; yet on the first day after his
+return, his kindly remembrance of old days carried the restored Laird,
+the great merchant, to the cottage of the "old Janet," who had given him
+apples and bannocks in his youth.
+
+And in the long walk they took, the father and son made many similar
+visits, to the great amazement of Lawrie, who knowing his father a
+reserved grave man, called proud by strangers, was very greatly at a
+loss how to account for these many friendships. The hearty kindliness of
+these old cottage people, in which there was fully as much affection as
+awe, and the frank familiarity of his father, puzzled Lawrie mightily.
+He did by no means understand it.
+
+They had begun with Esther Fleming's house--they ended with the Tower.
+Between these two, besides the cottage visitations we have mentioned,
+with all the joyful wonder of their recognitions, they visited a
+grave--a grave which had received another name since Norman Rutherford
+left his fatherland, and on which Lawrie read with awe and reverence,
+names of his ancestry the same as his own, and near the end, that of
+"Lawrence Ross, aged 15," his own age, who was his uncle.
+
+In the meantime, at a solemn private conference in the little room, Mrs.
+Catherine was receiving Archibald's report.
+
+"Mr. Sinclair's proposal to me," said Archibald, "is of so liberal a
+kind that I feel almost ashamed to accept it. Mr. Lumsden, the manager
+at Glasgow, has been received as junior partner into the firm, and is
+intended to succeed Mr. Sinclair at Buenos Ayres. Mr. Sinclair offers me
+Mr. Lumsden's situation in Glasgow, in the meantime, as he says, with a
+speedy prospect of entering the house. He himself intends to withdraw,
+and he talks of my chance of taking his place in the firm. This for me,
+who went out a poor clerk only a year ago, looks ridiculously Utopian;
+but the managership--Mr. Lumsden's situation, is sure--and it is higher
+than, in ordinary circumstances, I could have hoped to rise for years."
+
+"I am glad of it--I am heartily glad to hear it, Archie," said Mrs.
+Catherine. "That you should leave your lawful labor is no desire of
+mine; but I have that to tell that concerns you more than even this.
+Have you heard any tidings yet, of the cattle you left in Strathoran?"
+
+Archibald changed color, and said "No."
+
+"Then it has not been told you that your father's house is within your
+reach again; that Strathoran is to be sold."
+
+"To be sold!" Archibald started to his feet; his temples began to throb,
+his heart to beat--within his reach and yet how very far removed, for
+where could he find means to redeem his inheritance. "To be sold!"
+
+"Yes. Archie Sutherland, to be sold--what say you to that?" He did not
+say anything to it; he pressed his hand to his brow and groaned.
+
+"What ails you? sit down upon your seat this moment, and hearken to me;
+what say you to that?"
+
+"I have nothing to say, Mrs. Catherine; it takes from me my great hope.
+There is no possibility of recovering it now, and what chance is there
+of any opportunity again. It is not likely to change hands thrice in one
+life-time."
+
+"Archie," said Mrs. Catherine, "you are but a silly heart, after all. I
+thought not to have seen the beads on your brow for this matter. Sit
+down upon your seat I bid you, and hearken to me. I am not without
+siller as you know, seeing it is no such great space of time since a
+Laird of Strathoran made petition to me, to serve him in this Mammon;
+that you should have forgotten. I was slow then, for you were in the way
+of evil, Archie; but ill as you were, you know I was nearly tempted to
+cast away my siller, into the self-same mire in which you lost
+Strathoran, for the sake of Isabel Balfour and him that was her trysted
+bridegroom.--Now, Archie Sutherland, it is my hope that your eyes are
+opened to see the right course of man; which is not idleset and the mean
+pleasures of it, but honorable work and labor that the sun may shine
+upon, and God and your fellows see. Think not that I mean the making of
+siller; I mean a just work, whatsoever, is appointed you, to be done in
+honor and bravery, and in the fear of God. So as it is my hope you
+perceive this at last, you shall have your lands again, Archie. Not,
+that I desire you to return to Strathoran, as if you had never done ill.
+Go your ways and labor: you will return a better and a blyther man, that
+you have redeemed your inheritance with the work of your own hands. In
+the meantime, I myself will redeem it for you; I give you back the name
+your fathers have borne for ages. See that it descends to your bairns
+for their inheritance, Strathoran. And now I see Norman Rutherford at
+the door; go and take counsel with him for your further travail and
+leave me to my meditations."
+
+And with kindly violence Mrs. Catherine shut the door of her sanctuary
+upon the bewildered Archibald--then she seated herself opposite the
+portrait of her brother, and gazed upon it long and earnestly. "Ay,
+Sholto Douglas, he is Isabel's son, and what would you have left undone
+for the bairn of Isabel?--and if he had been yours also, what is there
+within the compass of mortal might, that I would have halted at for him?
+He is Isabel's son--and it had not been ordered in a darker way, he
+would have been your first-born, Sholto Douglas; the shadow of your
+tenderness is upon the youth--he has none in this earth so near to him
+as me."
+
+That day, there were various visitors at Merkland--Mrs. Catherine, the
+Aytouns, Marjory Falconer; they met together at night in the Tower, all
+joyous, hopeful, and at peace.
+
+But in the vicinity of the Tower, that evening, there hovered a knot of
+stalwart men, uncertain as it seemed whether to enter or no. The younger
+ones were for pressing forward; the most eager among them was Angus
+Macalpine, himself longing to become the head of a household, and
+remembering Flora's limit "no till we get back to the glen;" but the
+highest and most potent of the group hung back.
+
+"Man, Duncan, we're no wanting to vex him. I've as muckle honor for the
+Laird as on a' man o' my name--only it's our right to have an answer. If
+he's no gaun to buy back the land, maybe we could make favor wi' whaever
+does. We belong to the ground, and the ground to us, Duncan--we've a
+right to seek an answer at the hands of our chief."
+
+"It a' sounds very just that, Angus," said Big Duncan Macalpine; "but
+the Laird's a distressed man, that hasna siller to give for the
+redemption of his inheritance and ours. Think ye onything but extremity
+could have garred him time the lands as he did? or think ye there can be
+siller enough gathered in ae year to buy back Strathoran? I tell ye,
+lads, I ken the Laird, and if he's maybe wasted his substance like a
+prodigal--I dinna dispute he has, and we're a' bearing the burden--he
+keeps aye a kind heart. Now, here are we, coming to him, young men and
+auld of us, that have been hunted from our hames. He kens it's his wyte,
+and he kens he canna mend it; and what can we do but gie him a sair
+heart, and what can he say but that it grieves him? If he had the power
+we wad be hame again the morn; but he hasna the power, and wherefore
+should we make his cup bitterer wi' putting our calamity before him and
+saying it's his blame?"
+
+The reasoning of Big Duncan was strong like himself--the men fell
+back--but Angus was still eager.
+
+"The auld man at the ingleside wrestles night and day to get quiet
+deein' in his ain house in the glen. He's wandered in his mind since
+ever yon weary day--aye, when he's no at his exercise--he's clear enough
+then; and if ye heard him, just to get hame that he may fa' asleep in
+peace, ye wadna be sae faint-hearted. I'm no meaning that you're
+faint-hearted either; but the Laird hasna had sae muckle thought o' us,
+that we should be sae mindfu' o' him."
+
+"You're an inconsiderate lad, Angus," said Big Duncan; "but for the auld
+man's sake we may wait a while here. Maybe the Laird may pass this
+gate--yonder's somebody."
+
+"It's the Laird," exclaimed Angus--forward as he had been before, he
+shrank back now. The man who had opposed the measure was left to be the
+spokesman.
+
+Archibald had observed them from a window, and came towards them
+rapidly. Duncan lifted his bonnet--no servile sign, as smaller spirits
+in the arrogance of their so-called equality would assert, but the
+independent respect of an honorable poor man, who in his chief's good
+fame had an individual stake, and was himself honored. He was at some
+loss how to frame his speech.
+
+"I trust," said Archibald, hastily, "I trust I shall have it in my power
+very shortly to redress your wrongs. You have suffered innocently--I
+justly; but we have both had some trials of faith and patience since we
+last met. Trust me the power shall not be in my hands a moment sooner
+than the will, to make amends to you for your loss--the bitterest hour
+of all this bitter twelvemonth was the one in which I heard of your
+wrong. There are two months yet between us, and the time which shall
+decide the proprietorship of Strathoran. I hope then, through my
+friend's help, to be able to redeem my inheritance and yours--if I
+succeed, have no fear--I will not spend an hour in unnecessary delay
+till you again enter Oranmore in peace."
+
+These men did not cheer him--we are by no means loud in our
+demonstrations in Scotland--but their rough features moved and melted,
+and some eyelids swelled full. Archibald was a little excited too.
+
+"So far as I have caused this, Macalpines, you forgive your chief?" He
+held out his hand--it was grasped with a silent fervor which spoke more
+eloquently than words. Tall Angus Macalpine, who touched his chief's
+hand last of all, could have thrown himself down at his feet, and craved
+his pardon. He did not do that; but would have rejoiced with mighty joy,
+as he flew down Oranside that night, to tap at the nursery window of
+Woodsmuir and carry Flora the news, to have had an opportunity of
+_douking_, knocking down, or in any way discomfiting "ony man that
+daured to mint an ill word of the Laird!"
+
+Upon the appointed day little Alice Aytoun was married--Ada Mina
+Coulter, as having experience of the office, serving her in the capacity
+of bridesmaid, while Anne and Marjory were merely lookers on; the latter
+not without consideration of the proprieties of this same momentous
+ceremony, so soon to be repeated in a case where she could not be merely
+a spectator.
+
+For Marjory's bold experiment was succeeding beautifully. Her visitor,
+Sophy Featherstonehaugh, the mighty huntress over whom she exulted, was
+half a Northumbrian, and half a maiden of the Merse--the daughter of a
+foxhunting Squire, a careless, good-humored, frank, daring girl, who
+could guide a vicious horse, or sing you "a westerly wind, and a cloudy
+sky," with any sportsman in the land. Poor Sophy was an only
+child--motherless from her infancy; the lands of her weak, boisterous,
+indulgent father were strictly entailed, and he seemed to have deadened
+any fatherly anxieties he might have had for leaving his daughter
+penniless, by fooling her to the top of her bent, so long as he remained
+lord of his own impoverished acres. But he died at last--and with an
+immense mastery over horses, and sufficiently cunning in all sports of
+the field to have filled the place of huntsman to some magnifico, and
+withal with a dowry of two hundred pounds, Sophy Featherstonehaugh, the
+daughter of an old and honorable family, was thrown upon the charities
+of the world.
+
+A precise aunt in Edinburgh, with a great nursery-full of children, gave
+her a reluctant invitation. The innocent lady fancied Sophy's services
+might be turned to good account as a sort of unpaid nursery-governess.
+She was not long in discovering her mistake. Sophy had not been a week
+in charge, when the walls of the nursery rang with a shrill "Tally-ho!"
+of many juvenile voices. The next morning, Master Harry demanded from
+his astonished papa a horse, and coolly proposed turning over his pony
+to his sister, little Sophy, who earnestly seconded the embryo
+sportsman. Their mother was dismayed. She resolved to have a solemn
+forenoon conference with her unpaid nursery-governess, to ascertain what
+all this meant. When she reached the schoolroom door, she paused to
+listen. Alas! it was not any lesson that kept that little group so
+steadily round their teacher. It was one of those barbarous ballads with
+which a "northern harper rude" horrified the ears of the cultured
+Marmion, in Norham's castled keep, celebrating the exploits of a
+Featherstonehaugh. The aunt stood horror-stricken at the door--not long,
+however, for Sophy, with her loud, frank, good-humored voice, was
+already transgressing still more unpardonably, and in a moment after the
+boisterous chorus of "A hunting we will go--eho--eho--eho!" pierced the
+ears of the hapless mother, ringing from the shrill, united voices of
+all her children.
+
+There was no more to be said after that: in unutterable wrath, poor
+Sophy was sent off immediately, in spite of her indignant remonstrances,
+and her twenty years, to a boarding-school in the neighborhood of
+Strathoran, the principal of which was informed of her past riotous
+behavior, and begged, with much bitterness by the aunt, to do what she
+could to make the girl human.
+
+The girl's bold spirit rose at this--she, a Featherstonehaugh? But she
+had no kindred in the wide world to turn to, and even her poor two
+hundred pounds was mulcted for the payment of the year's stipend to the
+boarding-school. In these circumstances, Marjory Falconer became
+acquainted with her, and in a week thereafter, free from all
+governesses, or attempts to humanize, the bold Featherstonehaugh was
+triumphantly reining the wildest horse in the Falcon's Craig stables,
+while Ralph rode in delight and admiration by her side, and Marjory,
+standing at the door, said joyously, within herself:
+
+"She has a firm hand--she can hold the reins--she will do!"
+
+Marjory was by far too wise, however, to trust Ralph with her intention;
+but she made much of the frank, good-humored Sophy, and looked forward
+in good hopes.
+
+The day arrived for the re-purchase of Strathoran, and Mr. Foreman and
+Mr. Ferguson, in the abscence of all competitors, joyfully redeemed the
+inheritance of Archibald Sutherland, at a price considerably below its
+real value.
+
+"Come light--gang light," said the lawyer, emphatically. "We give them
+more for it than they gave us."
+
+There had been negotiations entered into with the Southland
+sheep-farmer, whose farm comprised the glen of Oranmore, and he readily
+accepted in lieu of it, for the justice sake, and to oblige the Laird,
+an equal extent of land elsewhere. In wild eagerness, the Macalpines
+threw themselves into their glen, and wrought so furiously at their
+dismantled houses, that in a very short time after the sale the
+longed-for homes stood complete again, ready for the joyful flitting.
+
+And then, upon a balmy day of early April the clansfolk returned, in
+solemn procession, to their home. The bustle of removal was over--the
+lofty tone of those mountain people made a grave ceremonial of their
+return. In the glen, beneath the soft, blue sky, and genial spring
+sunshine, they gathered together to thank God; and, with the blue
+heights rising over them, and the fair low-country swelling soft and
+green at their feet, and the peaceful cottar houses round, with fire
+upon their hearths, and lowly, protecting roofs once more, they lifted
+up their voices in psalms:
+
+    "Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling place
+      In generations all,
+     Before Thou ever hadst brought forth
+      The mountains great and small.
+     Ere ever Thou hadst formed the earth,
+      Or all the world abroad,
+     Even Thou from everlasting art
+      To everlasting God."
+
+And then, their minister standing by the while, Duncan Macalpine the
+elder, of Oranmore, rendered thanks to God.
+
+Archibald Sutherland denied himself this gladness. It invigorated him in
+the dingy manager's room of the Glasgow counting-house to hear of it,
+but he felt he had no claim to the triumph. Mr. Ferguson was there,
+radiant with honest glee, and Mr. Lumsden from Portoran, his face
+covered with a dark glow of simple delight and sympathy. And there was
+little Lilie, and Mary Ferguson, solemnly invited to take tea with Flora
+and Angus, on their first entry into their new house, and Anne and
+Marjory, with Lawrie for their gallant, were in charge of the children
+and a straggling back-ground of well-wishers from Merkland and the
+Tower, filled up the rear.
+
+The months wore peacefully on. Esther Fleming's son had returned to her,
+and only did not become captain of a schooner, which called Norman owner
+now, because he had enough, and preferred comfortably dwelling at home,
+greatly honored by his foster-brother, and very proud of the
+relationship, while, withal, his mother's little housekeeper-niece did
+so seriously incline to hear his stories of sea perils and victories,
+that the rustic neighbors already in prophetic anticipation, had some
+half dozen times proclaimed the banns of William Fleming.
+
+Norman Rutherford and his family were settled peacefully in the now
+bright and cheerful house of Redheugh. Anne was with them. Little Alice,
+the blythest of young wives, kept Merkland bright and busy. There was
+word in Edinburgh of some rich young Indian lady, who had thrown her
+handkerchief on James.
+
+And before the three months were fully expired, Anne Ross accepted
+Marjory Falconer's invitation, and was present at a wedding-party in
+Falcon's Craig. A double wedding--at which Mr. Lumsden, of Portoran,
+placed in the stout hand of Sophy Featherstonehaugh the reins of the
+ruder animal Ralph Falconer, of Falcon's Craig, and immediately
+thereafter submitted in his turn to the same important ceremony,
+performed in his case by the brother Robert, of Gowdenleas, in the midst
+of an immense assemblage of kindred, Andrew of Kilfleurs standing by.
+
+And prosperous were these weddings. Good-humored, kindly, and of
+tolerable capacity, the bold Sophy had improved under her
+sister-in-law's powerful tutorage. She _had_ a firm hand. The boisterous
+Ralph felt the reins light upon him, yet was kept in bounds, and
+by-and-by Sophy left the management of wild horses entirely in his
+hands. She got other important things to manage--obstreperous atoms of
+humanity, wilder than their quadruped brethren, and scarce less strong.
+
+And with her old chimeras scattered to the winds, in lofty lowliness,
+and chastened strength, Marjory Falconer entered her Manse, the
+minister's stout-hearted and pure-minded wife. One hears no more of the
+rights of women now--bubbles of such a sort do not float in the rare
+atmosphere of this household--there is nothing in them congenial with
+the sunshine of its blythe order and freedom.
+
+For granting that our Calvinism is gloomy, and our Presbyterian
+temperament sour, one wonders how universal this household warmth and
+joyousness should be beneath the roof-trees of those strong, pure men,
+whom the intolerant world upbraids with the names of bigot, hypocrite,
+and pharisee. One could wish to have this same intolerant bigot world
+make a tour of these Scottish Manses, from which it might return,
+perchance, able to give a rational judgment on the doctrine and order of
+Christ's Holy Evangel, as we have held it in Scotland from the days of
+our fathers until now; at least might have its evil speaking hushed into
+silence before the devout might, which labors for the hire, not of
+silver and gold, but of saved souls--and the sunny godliness which is
+loftiest gain.
+
+There is a rumor in the Lumsden family that, upon one evening shortly
+after the marriage, a certain chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians,
+containing a verse which married ladies do mightily stumble at, was read
+in regular course: on which occasion, says the mirthful Sister Martha of
+the Portoran Manse, one could detect the shadow of a comic inflection in
+the voice of the household priest, while his wife with a certain grave
+doggedness, slightly bowed her strong head before the unpalatable
+command.
+
+We cannot tell how the truth of this story may be, but Sister Martha
+laughs when she tells it, and Marjory blushes her violent blush, and the
+minister looks on with his characteristic smile of simple
+unsophisticated glee. But we can vouch for it, that Mrs. Lumsden of
+Portoran has become a renowned church-lawyer, mighty in the "Styles,"
+and great in the forms of process; whose judgment maintains itself
+triumphantly in face of a whole Synod, and whose advice in complicated
+matters, of edicts, or calls, or trials, youthful reverends scant of
+ecclesiastical jurisprudence, would do well to take.
+
+Only there is growing up in the Manse of Portoran a host of little
+sun-burnt, dark-haired heads--all prosperity and increase to the
+sparkling eyes and bold brows of them!--over whose rejoicing band a
+little fairy sister, the joy of the minister's heart, exercises her
+capricious sway, and sovereign tyranny. They are growing up, all of
+them, to call Marjory blessed--already for their generous nurturing
+"known in the gates" as hers--and hereafter still more to rejoice in the
+strong, gladsome, sunshiny nature to which they owe their healthful
+might and vigor. The prophecy and hope of her friend and counsellor is
+fulfilled in full: "Strength and honor are her clothing. She opens her
+mouth with wisdom, and in her lips is the law of kindness."
+
+The months passed on, and lengthened into years. Archibald Sutherland,
+after good work in the manager's room, entered the firm triumphantly as
+Norman's successor; before that, he had succeeded to the well-ordered
+house in the vicinity of Blythswood Square, which had been occupied by
+his predecessor Mr. Lumsden. People said it certainly needed a mistress,
+and very wonderful were the rapidity of those successive occasions, on
+which the Laird of Strathoran, clear-headed as men called him, found it
+absolutely necessary to repair to Redheugh to seek counsel of his
+friend.
+
+His sister Isabel had made a brilliant marriage; they had scarcely any
+intercourse--unless some new misfortune should befall her she was lost
+to her early friends. Mrs. Catherine and Mr. Ferguson, under Mr.
+Coulter's advice, were managing his estate. Sentences oracular and
+mysterious were sometimes heard falling from Mrs. Catherine's lips, in
+which the names of "Archie" and "Anne" were conjoined. The house of
+Strathoran had been thoroughly purified. Mrs. Catherine had made sundry
+important additions to its plenishing; it was always kept in such order,
+that its now prosperous and rising possessor might return to it, at
+once. Anne was resident at the Tower sometimes, and knew of these
+processes. They tended to some new change in the eventful life of Archie
+Sutherland.
+
+The Rosses of Merkland were visiting the Rutherfords of Redheugh. In the
+large sunny drawing-room, from whose ample windows sloped a lawn of
+close and velvet greensward, the whole family were assembled. The elder
+Mrs. Ross was mollified and melted; the younger gay and rejoicing. Lewis
+was in high spirits--under the regimen approved and recommended by Mr.
+Coulter, Lewis hoped to raise the rent-roll of Merkland a half more than
+it had ever been. You could see now in the large wistful dark eyes of
+Christian Lillie, only the subdued and serious tone proper to those who
+have borne great griefs without brooding over them. There was an aspect
+of serene peace and healthful pleasure over all the house. The three
+sisters, Marion, Christian, and Anne, were sisters indeed.
+
+Without was a merrier group. Lilie Rutherford, with her youthful
+gallant, Charlie Ferguson, now a High School boy, lodged in a closet of
+his brother Robert's rooms, and frequent in his Saturday visits to
+Redheugh; and Lawrie, growing a young man now, as he thought, and
+dubious as to the propriety of keeping company with lesser boys and
+girls, to whom he was very patronizing and condescending, stood by the
+sun-dial; while in the background was Jacky, now waiting gentlewoman to
+Miss Lilias Rutherford, a very great person indeed, and little Bessie,
+young Mrs. Ross of Merkland's own maid.
+
+Lilie was coquetishly making inquiries of Bessie, touching the welfare
+of Harry Coulter, whereat Charlie Ferguson grew irate and sulky.
+
+"And the young gentleman's biding at the Tower," said Bessie; "he's a
+lord noo his ainsel--and he's been twice at Harrows."
+
+"Who is that?" said little Lilie.
+
+"Oh, if ye please, Miss Lilie," said Jacky, "it's a young gentleman that
+was a lord's son, and now he's a lord himsel--and he's gaun to be
+married to Mr. Harry's sister."
+
+"Eh, Jacky, what gars ye say such a thing?" cried Bessie. "If ye please,
+Miss Lilie, naebody kens--only he's been twice at Harrows; but maybe
+he's no courting Miss Coulter for a' that."
+
+"_I_ should think not," exclaimed Charlie Ferguson, indignantly. "Ada
+Coulter married to a lord! Yes, indeed--and they can't talk of a single
+thing at Harrows but fat pigs, and prize cattle, and ploughing matches.
+Why, Lilie, do you mind what Harry gave you when you were at Merkland--a
+plough! what can ladies do with ploughs?"
+
+"Mrs. Catherine has a great many ploughs, Charlie," said Lilie,
+gravely--"and it was very good of Harry; and Mary and me might have
+played with it all our lane, and we would not have needed you. I dinna
+like boats--folk can plough at hame--but in boats they go over the sea."
+
+"And, eh, Jacky!" exclaimed Bessie, curiously, as Charlie followed his
+capricious liege lady, to efface if he could this unfortunate
+recollection of Harry Coulter and his gift--"isna young Strathoran awfu'
+often at Redheugh?"
+
+"He's here whiles," said Jacky, briefly.
+
+"Johnnie Halflin says," said Bessie, "and it's a' through the
+parish--and folk say Mrs. Catherine's just waiting for't, and that it's
+to be in the Tower, and Mr. Lumsden is to do it, and Mrs. Lumsden kens
+a' about it--"
+
+"About what?"
+
+"Oh, ye just ken better than me for a' you'll no say--just that young
+Strathoran's coming out of yon muckle reekie Glasgow, hame to his ain
+house, and then he's to be married to Miss Anne. Tell us, woman,
+Jacky--I'll never tell a mortal body again, as sure as I'm living."
+
+Jacky's dark face lighted up--she knew this secret would bear telling,
+even though Bessie broke faith.
+
+"We're a' gaun to the Tower at the New year--like the time Redheugh came
+hame; Miss Lilie and Miss Anne, and a' the house--and young Strathoran's
+to be there too. And Miss Anne has gotten a grand goun, a' of white
+silk, shining like the snaw below the moon, and a shawl--ye never saw
+the like o't--it's as lang as frae Merkland to the Tower. And maybe
+something will happen then, and maybe no--Miss Anne wasna gaun to tell
+me!"
+
+                      THE END.
+
+
+Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
+
+Strathoram=> Strathoran {pg 16}
+
+Its not so much here=> It's not so much here {pg 19}
+
+hypocondriac=> hypochondriac {pg 24}
+
+Little Allice=> Little Alice {pg 26}
+
+dont=> don't {pg 29}
+
+strangers character=> stranger's character {pg 30}
+
+Mrs. Euphan Morrison=> Mrs. Euphan Morison {pg 26}
+
+downfal=> downfall {pg 44 & 45}
+
+its=> it's {pg 45}
+
+Archilbald Sutherland=> Archilbald Sutherland {pg 46}
+
+Mrs. Morrison=> Mrs. Morison {pg 51}
+
+peplexed=> perplexed {pg 53}
+
+momento=> memento {pg 56}
+
+Mrs. Euphan Morrison=> Mrs. Euphan Morison {pg 70}
+
+downfal=> downfall {pg 93}
+
+cousulting=> consulting {pg 68}
+
+dried and dyring=> dried and drying {pg 70}
+
+Bobert Ferguson=> Robert Ferguson {pg 72}
+
+with may messages=> with many messages {pg 78}
+
+Mr. Furguson=> Mr. Ferguson {pg 78}
+
+the the sad wayfaring man=> the sad wayfaring man {pg 88}
+
+and ruin and ruin=> and ruin {pg 93}
+
+her commads=> her commands {pg 93}
+
+where whispering=> were whispering {pg 94}
+
+orginal property=> original property {pg 97}
+
+There? there!=> There! there! {pg 97}
+
+stange unwonted=> stange unwonted {pg 99}
+
+sick mouth of waiting=> sick month of waiting {pg 106}
+
+sorow=> sorrow {pg 111}
+
+kneeling before his portait=> kneeling before his portrait {pg 112}
+
+Jackie Morison=> Jacky Morison {pg 116}
+
+petulent=> petulant {pg 122}
+
+tremulousley down again=> tremulously down again {pg 123}
+
+one littlemonth ago=> one little month ago {pg 126}
+
+solemn occassion=> solemn occasion {pg 127}
+
+the tears stealing over he cheeks=> the tears stealing over her cheeks
+{pg 130}
+
+sinc ehe is=> since he is {pg 138}
+
+acrifice myself=> sacrifice myself {pg 139}
+
+Noman's guilt=> Norman's guilt {pg 141}
+
+Catherin'e lips=> Catherine's lips {pg 144}
+
+whose very nams=> whose very name {pg 145}
+
+passible opening=> possible opening {pg 146}
+
+elementary knowledged=> elementary knowledge {pg 146}
+
+lilie's learning=> Lilie's learning {pg 156}
+
+iu a lowland country=> in a lowland country {pg 158}
+
+Orandside=> Oranside {pg 162}
+
+desparate energy=> desperate energy {pg 167}
+
+houshold=> household {pg 172}
+
+Young Simpelton rose=> Young Sympelton rose {pg 177}
+
+remebrance=> remembrance {pg 182}
+
+disagreeble=> disagreeable {pg 189}
+
+undeserved repoofs from her=> undeserved reproofs from her {pg 195}
+
+Mr. Catherine's=> Mrs. Catherine's {pg 196}
+
+Mr. Suter=> Mr. Sutor {pg 198}
+
+well-dresed=> well-dressed {pg 198}
+
+Mrs. Duncome=> Mrs. Duncombe {pg 199}
+
+overbriming=> overbrimming {pg 199}
+
+the macalpines=> the macalpines {pg 205}
+
+Simson, begin your work=> Simpson, begin your work {pg 208}
+
+leave it instanly=> leave it instantly {pg 208}
+
+siting=> sitting {pg 215}
+
+The chaise had drived off=> The chaise had driven off {pg 216}
+
+Giles Sympleton=> Giles Sympelton {pg 217}
+
+people cofined within the limits=> people confined within the limits {pg
+226}
+
+in ectasies=> in ecstasies {pg 234}
+
+guant woman=> gaunt woman {pg 236}
+
+contained the books Mrs. Yammer's household=> contained the books of
+Mrs. Yammer's household {pg 237}
+
+having settle itself=> having settled itself {pg 242}
+
+terminated ar last=> terminated at last {pg 246}
+
+complete acquital=> complete acquittal {pg 246}
+
+Afer all=> After all {pg 247}
+
+Annes' heart=> Anne's heart {pg 247}
+
+and unven wall=> and uneven wall {pg 249}
+
+mahogony=> mahogany {pg 250}
+
+unceremniously=> unceremoniously {pg 251}
+
+bligted=> blighted {pg 255}
+
+Fizherbert=> Fitzherbert {pg 267}
+
+rustice wit=> rustic wit {pg 268}
+
+and when he rose a last=> and when he rose at last {pg 269}
+
+widow-still=> window-still {pg 271}
+
+Falcan's Craig=> Falcon's Craig {pg 271}
+
+smilling=> smiling {pg 273}
+
+I'ts my hope=> It's my hope {pg 278}
+
+three or foor miles=> three or four miles {pg 280}
+
+woud have done=> would have done {pg 280}
+
+descent=> decent {pg 280}
+
+cabages=> cabbages {pg 280}
+
+discusseed=> discussed {pg 281}
+
+betweeu=> between {pg 283}
+
+on the shore the sternly silent=> on the shore is sternly silent {pg
+289}
+
+earthernware=> earthenware {pg 293}
+
+seperate=> separate {pg 307}
+
+Chrsitian's=> Christian's {pg 310}
+
+Mr. Yammer=> Mrs. Yammer {pg 313}
+
+litle=> little {pg 313}
+
+not come to soon=> not come too soon {pg 318}
+
+friends house=> friend's house {pg 319}
+
+sooth=> soothe {pg 320}
+
+thine own heaven=> Thine own heaven {pg 321}
+
+youg ladies=> young ladies {pg 332}
+
+Iu the first place=> In the first place {pg 333}
+
+the lest remembrance=> the least remembrance {pg 336}
+
+calmity=> calamity {pg 338}
+
+Christian Lillie had=> Christian Lilie had {pg 340}
+
+Christs holy=> Christ's holy {pg 343}
+
+the the end=> the end {pg 343}
+
+An odler man leaned on his arm=> An older man leaned on his arm {pg 348}
+
+as of he knew it=> as if he knew it {pg 348}
+
+Ail the three were half weeping ye=> All the three were half weeping ye
+{pg 353}
+
+nuturing=> nurturing {pg 365}
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Merkland, by Mrs. Oliphant
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43811 ***