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diff --git a/43811-0.txt b/43811-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..39cc38f --- /dev/null +++ b/43811-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18247 @@ +*** 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 *** |