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diff --git a/43828.txt b/43828.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3be2b76..0000000 --- a/43828.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5674 +0,0 @@ - WHITE WINGS, VOLUME I - - - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: White Wings, Volume I - A Yachting Romance -Author: William Black -Release Date: September 27, 2013 [EBook #43828] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHITE WINGS, VOLUME I (OF 3) -*** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - - WHITE WINGS: - - A Yachting Romance. - - - BY - - WILLIAM BLACK, - - AUTHOR OF "THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON," - "GREEN PASTURES AND PICCADILLY," ETC. - - - - _IN THREE VOLUMES._ - - VOL. I. - - - - London: - MACMILLAN AND CO. - 1880. - - _The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved._ - - - - - LONDON: - R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, - BREAD STREET HILL. - - - - - TO OUR - - *QUEEN MABS,* - - IN MEMORY OF HER FIRST CRUISE ON BOARD ANY - YACHT, THIS RECORD OF OUR LONG SUMMER IDLENESS - IN 1878 IS MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, BY HER - OBLIGED AND HUMBLE SERVANT, - - _THE AUTHOR._ - - BRIGHTON, _June_ 1880. - - - - - *CONTENTS.* - - - CHAPTER I. - -ON THE QUAY - - CHAPTER II. - -MARY AVON - - CHAPTER III. - -UNDER WAY - - CHAPTER IV. - -A MESSAGE - - CHAPTER V. - -A BRAVE CAREER - - CHAPTER VI. - -OUR NEW GUESTS - - CHAPTER VII. - -NORTHWARD - - CHAPTER VIII. - -PLOTS AND COUNTER-PLOTS - - CHAPTER IX. - -A WILD STUDIO - - CHAPTER X. - -"DUNVEGAN!--OH! DUNVEGAN!" - - CHAPTER XI. - -DRAWING NEARER - - CHAPTER XII. - -THE OLD SCHOOL AND THE NEW - - CHAPTER XIII. - -FERDINAND AND MIRANDA - - CHAPTER XIV. - -EVIL TIDINGS - - CHAPTER XV. - -TEMPTATION - - CHAPTER XVI. - -THROUGH THE DARK - - - - - *WHITE WINGS:* - - *A Yachting Romance.* - - - - *CHAPTER I.* - - *ON THE QUAY.* - - -A murmur runs through the crowd; the various idlers grow alert; all eyes -are suddenly turned to the south. And there, far away over the green -headland, a small tuft of brown smoke appears, rising into the golden -glow of the afternoon, and we know that by and by we shall see the great -steamer with her scarlet funnels come sailing round the point. The -Laird of Denny-mains assumes an air of still further importance; he -pulls his frock-coat tight at the waist; he adjusts his black satin -necktie; his tall, white, stiff collar seems more rigid and white than -ever. He has heard of the wonderful stranger; and he knows that now she -is drawing near. - -Heard of her? He has heard of nothing else since ever he came to us in -these northern wilds. For the mistress of this household--with all her -domineering ways and her fits of majestic temper--has a love for her -intimate girl-friends far passing the love of men; especially when the -young ladies are obedient, and gentle, and ready to pay to her matronly -dignity the compliment of a respectful awe. And this particular friend -who is now coming to us: what has not the Laird heard about her during -these past few days?--of her high courage, her resolute unselfishness, -her splendid cheerfulness? "A singing-bird in the house," that was one -of the phrases used, "in wet weather or fine." And then the -enthusiastic friend muddled her metaphors somehow, and gave the puzzled -Laird to understand that the presence of this young lady in a house was -like having sweet-brier about the rooms. No wonder he put on his -highest and stiffest collar before he marched grandly down with us to -the quay. - -"And does she not deserve a long holiday sir?" says the Laird's hostess -to him, as together they watch for the steamer coming round the point. -"Just fancy! Two months' attendance on that old woman, who was her -mother's nurse. Two months in a sick-room, without a soul to break the -monotony of it. And the girl living in a strange town all by herself!" - -"Ay; and in such a town as Edinburgh," remarks the Laird, with great -compassion. His own property lies just outside Glasgow. - -"Dear me," says he, "what must a young English leddy have thought of our -Scotch way of speech when she heard they poor Edinburgh bodies and their -yaumering sing-song? Not that I quarrel with any people for having an -accent in their way of speaking; they have that in all parts of England -as well as in Scotland--in Yorkshire, and Somersetshire, and what not; -and even in London itself there is a way of speech that is quite -recognisable to a stranger. But I have often thought that there was -less trace of accent about Glesca and the west of Scotland than in any -other part; in fact, ah have often been taken for an Englishman maself." - -"Indeed!" says this gentle creature standing by him; and her upturned -eyes are full of an innocent belief. You would swear she was meditating -on summoning instantly her boys from Epsom College that they might -acquire a pure accent--or get rid of all accent--on the banks of the -Clyde. - -"Yes," say the Laird, with a decision almost amounting to enthusiasm, -"it is a grand inheritance that we in the south of Scotland are -preserving for you English people; and you know little of it. You do -not know that we are preserving the English language for you as it was -spoken centuries ago, and as you find it in your oldest writings. -Scotticisms! Why, if ye were to read the prose of Mandeville or Wyclif, -or the poetry of Robert of Brunne or Langdale, ye would find that our -Scotticisms were the very pith and marrow of the English language. Ay; -it is so." - -The innocent eyes express such profound interest that the Laird of -Denny-mains almost forgets about the coming steamer, so anxious is he to -crush us with a display of his erudition. - -"It is just remarkable," he says, "that your dictionaries should put -down, as obsolete, words that are in common use all over the south of -Scotland, where, as I say, the old Northumbrian English is preserved in -its purity; and that ye should have learned people hunting up in Chaucer -or Gower for the very speech that they might hear among the bits o' -weans running about the Gallowgate or the Broomielaw. '_Wha's acht -ye?_' you say to one of them; and you think you are talking Scotch. No, -no; _acht_ is only the old English for possession: isn't '_Wha's acht -ye?_' shorter and pithier than '_To whom do you belong?_' - -"Oh, certainly!" says the meek disciple: the recall of the boys from -Surrey is obviously decided on. - -"And _speir_ for _inquire_; and _ferly_ for _wonderful_; and _tyne_ for -_lose_; and _fey_ for _about to die_; and _reek_ for _smoke_; and -_menseful_ for _becoming_; and _belyve_, and _fere_, and _biggan_, and -such words. Ye call them Scotch? Oh, no, ma'am; they are English; ye -find them in all the old English writers; and they are the best of -English too; a great deal better than the Frenchified stuff that your -southern English has become." - -Not for worlds would the Laird have wounded the patriotic sensitiveness -of this gentle friend of his from the South; but indeed, she had surely -nothing to complain of in his insisting to an Englishwoman on the value -of thorough English? - -"I thought," says she, demurely, "that the Scotch had a good many French -words in it." - -The Laird pretends not to hear: he is so deeply interested in the -steamer which is now coming over the smooth waters of the bay. But, -having announced that there are a great many people on board, he returns -to his discourse. - -"Ah'm sure of this, too," says he, "that in the matter of pronunciation -the Lowland Scotch have preserved the best English--you can see that -_faither_, and _twelmonth_, and _twa_, and such words are nearer the -original Anglo-Saxon----" - -His hearers had been taught to shudder at the phrase -Anglo-Saxon--without exactly knowing why. But who could withstand the -authority of the Laird? Moreover, we see relief drawing near; the -steamer's paddles are throbbing in the still afternoon. - -"If ye turn to _Piers the Plowman_," continues the indefatigable -Denny-mains, "ye will find Langdale writing-- - - And a fewe Cruddes and Crayme. - -Why, it is the familiar phrase of our Scotch children!--Do ye think they -would say _curds_? And then, _fewe_. I am not sure, but I imagine we -Scotch are only making use of old English when we make certain forms of -food plural. We say 'a few broth;' we speak of porridge as 'they.' -Perhaps that is a survival, too, eh?" - -"Oh, yes, certainly. But please mind the ropes, sir," observes his -humble pupil, careful of her master's physical safety. For at this -moment the steamer is slowing into the quay; and the men have the ropes -ready to fling ashore. - -"Not," remarks the Laird, prudently backing away from the edge of the -pier, "that I would say anything of these matters to your young English -friend; certainly not. No doubt she prefers the southern English she -has been accustomed to. But, bless me! just to think that she should -judge of our Scotch tongue by the way they Edinburgh bodies speak!" - -"It is sad, is it not?" remarks his companion--but all her attention is -now fixed on the crowd of people swarming to the side of the steamer. - -"And, indeed," the Laird explains, to close the subject, "it is only a -hobby of mine--only a hobby. Ye may have noticed that I do not use -those words in my own speech, though I value them. No, I will not force -any Scotch on the young leddy. As ah say, ah have often been taken for -an Englishman maself, both at home and abroad." - -And now--and now--the great steamer is in at the quay; the gangways are -run over; there is a thronging up the paddle-boxes; and eager faces on -shore scan equally eager faces on board--each pair of eyes looking for -that other pair of eyes to flash a glad recognition. And where is -she--the flower of womankind--the possessor of all virtue and grace and -courage--the wonder of the world? The Laird shares in our excitement. -He, too, scans the crowd eagerly. He submits to be hustled by the -porters; he hears nothing of the roaring of the steam; for is she not -coming ashore at last? And we know--or guess--that he is looking out -for some splendid creature--some Boadicea, with stately tread and -imperious mien--some Jephtha's daughter, with proud death in her -eyes--some Rosamond of our modern days, with a glory of loveliness on -her face and hair. And we know that the master who has been lecturing -us for half-an-hour on our disgraceful neglect of pure English will not -shock the sensitive Southern ear by any harsh accent of the North; but -will address her in beautiful and courtly strains, in tones such as -Edinburgh never knew. Where is the queen of womankind, amid all this -commonplace, hurrying, loquacious crowd? - -Forthwith the Laird, with a quick amazement in his eyes, sees a small -and insignificant person--he only catches a glimpse of a black dress and -a white face--suddenly clasped round in the warm embrace of her friend. -He stares for a second; and then he exclaims--apparently to himself:-- - -"Dear me! What a shilpit bit thing!" - -_Pale--slight--delicate--tiny_: surely such a master of idiomatic -English cannot have forgotten the existence of these words. But this is -all he cries to himself, in his surprise and wonder:-- - -"Dear me! What a shilpit bit thing!" - - - - - *CHAPTER II.* - - *MARY AVON.* - - -The bright, frank laugh of her face!--the friendly, unhesitating, -affectionate look in those soft black eyes! He forgot all about -Rosamond and Boadicea when he was presented to this "shilpit" person. -And when, instead of the usual ceremony of introduction, she bravely put -her hand in his, and said she had often heard of him from their common -friend, he did not notice that she was rather plain. He did not even -stop to consider in what degree her Southern accent might be improved by -residence amongst the preservers of pure English. He was anxious to -know if she was not greatly tired. He hoped the sea had been smooth as -the steamer came past Easdale. And her luggage--should he look after -her luggage for her? - -But Miss Avon was an expert traveller, and quite competent to look after -her own luggage. Even as he spoke, it was being hoisted on to the -waggonette. - -"You will let me drive?" says she, eying critically the two shaggy, -farm-looking animals. - -"Indeed I shall do nothing of the kind," says her hostess, promptly. - -But there was no disappointment at all on her face as we drove away -through the golden evening--by the side of the murmuring shore, past the -overhanging fir-wood, up and across the high land commanding a view of -the wide western seas. There was instead a look of such intense delight -that we knew, however silent the lips might be, that the bird-soul was -singing within. Everything charmed her--the cool, sweet air, the scent -of the sea-weed, the glow on the mountains out there in the west. And -as she chattered her delight to us--like a bird escaped from its prison -and glad to get into the sunlight and free air again--the Laird sate -mute and listened. He watched the frank, bright, expressive face. He -followed and responded to her every mood--with a sort of fond paternal -indulgence that almost prompted him to take her hand. When she smiled, -he laughed. When she talked seriously, he looked concerned. He was -entirely forgetting that she was a "shilpit bit thing;" and he would -have admitted that the Southern way of speaking English--although, no -doubt, fallen away from the traditions of the Northumbrian dialect--had, -after all, a certain music in it that made it pleasant to the ear. - -Up the hill, then, with a flourish for the last!--the dust rolling away -in clouds behind us--the view over the Atlantic widening as we ascend. -And here is Castle Osprey, as we have dubbed the place, with its wide -open door, and its walls half hidden with tree-fuchsias, and its great -rose-garden. Had Fair Rosamond herself come to Castle Osprey that -evening, she could not have been waited on with greater solicitude than -the Laird showed in assisting this "shilpit bit thing" to -alight--though, indeed there was a slight stumble, of which no one took -any notice at the time. He busied himself with her luggage quite -unnecessarily. He suggested a cup of tea, though it wanted but fifteen -minutes to dinner-time. He assured her that the glass was rising--which -was not the case. And when she was being hurried off to her own room to -prepare for dinner--by one who rules her household with a rod of -iron--he had the effrontery to tell her to take her own time: dinner -could wait. The man actually proposed to keep dinner waiting--in Castle -Osprey. - -That this was love at first sight, who could doubt? And perhaps the -nimble brain of one who was at this moment hurriedly dressing in her own -room--and whom nature has constituted an indefatigable matchmaker--may -have been considering whether this rich old bachelor might not marry, -after all. And if he were to marry, why should not he marry the young -lady in whom he seemed to have taken so sudden and warm an interest? As -for her: Mary Avon was now two or three-and-twenty; she was not likely -to prove attractive to young men; her small fortune was scarcely worth -considering; she was almost alone in the world. Older men had married -younger women. The Laird had no immediate relative to inherit -Denny-mains and his very substantial fortune. And would they not see -plenty of each other on board the yacht? - -But in her heart of hearts the schemer knew better. She knew that the -romance-chapter in the Laird's life--and a bitter chapter it was--had -been finished and closed and put away many and many a year ago. She -knew how the great disappointment of his life had failed to sour him; -how he was ready to share among friends and companions the large and -generous heart that had been for a time laid at the feet of a jilt; how -his keen and active interest, that might have been confined to his -children and his children's children, was now devoted to a hundred -things--the planting at Denny-mains, the great heresy case, the -patronage of young artists, even the preservation of pure English, and -what not. And that fortunate young gentleman--ostensibly his -nephew--whom he had sent to Harrow and to Cambridge, who was now living -a very easy life in the Middle Temple, and who would no doubt come in -for Denny-mains? Well, we knew a little about that young man, too. We -knew why the Laird, when he found that both the boy's father and mother -were dead, adopted him, and educated him, and got him to call him uncle. -He had taken under his care the son of the woman who had jilted him -five-and-thirty years ago; the lad had his mother's eyes. - -And now we are assembled in the drawing-room--all except the new guest; -and the glow of the sunset is shining in at the open windows. The Laird -is eagerly proving to us that the change from the cold east winds of -Edinburgh to the warm westerly winds of the Highlands must make an -immediate change in the young lady's face--and declaring that she ought -to go on board the yacht at once---and asserting that the ladies' cabin -on board the _White Dove_ is the most beautiful little cabin he ever -saw--when---- - -When, behold! at the open door--meeting the glow of the -sunshine--appears a figure--dressed all in black velvet, plain and -unadorned but for a broad belt of gold fringe that comes round the neck -and crosses the bosom. And above that again is a lot of white muslin -stuff, on which the small, shapely, smooth-dressed head seems gently to -rest. The plain black velvet dress gives a certain importance and -substantiality to the otherwise slight figure; the broad fringe of gold -glints and gleams as she moves towards us; but who can even think of -these things when he meets the brave glance of Mary Avon's eyes? She -was humming, as she came down the stair-- - -_O think na lang, lassie, though I gang awa;_ -_For I'll come and see ye, in spite o' them a',_ - ---we might have known it was the bird-soul come among us. - -Now the manner in which the Laird of Denny-mains set about capturing the -affections of this innocent young thing--as he sate opposite her at -dinner--would have merited severe reproof in one of less mature age; and -might, indeed, have been followed by serious consequences but for the -very decided manner in which Miss Avon showed that she could take care -of herself. Whoever heard Mary Avon laugh would have been assured. And -she did laugh a good deal; for the Laird, determined to amuse her, was -relating a series of anecdotes which he called "good ones," and which -seemed to have afforded great enjoyment to the people of the south of -Scotland during the last century or so. There was in especial a -Highland steward of a steamer about whom a vast number of these stories -was told; and if the point was at times rather difficult to catch, who -could fail to be tickled by the Laird's own and obvious enjoyment? -"There was another good one, Miss Avon," he would say; and then the bare -memory of the great facetiousness of the anecdote would break out in -such half-suppressed guffaws as altogether to stop the current of the -narrative. Miss Avon laughed--we could not quite tell whether it was at -the Highland steward or the Laird--until the tears ran down her checks. -Dinner was scarcely thought of. It was a disgraceful exhibition. - -"There was another good one about Homesh," said the Laird, vainly -endeavouring to suppress his laughter. "He came up on deck one -enormously hot day, and looked ashore, and saw some cattle standing -knee-deep in a pool of water. Says he--ha! ha! ha!--ho! ho! ho!--says -he---says he--'_A wish a wass a stot!_'--he! he! he!--ho! ho! ho!" - -Of course we all laughed heartily, and Mary Avon more than any of us; -but if she had gone down on her knees and sworn that she knew what the -point of the story was, we should not have believed her. But the Laird -was delighted. He went on with his good ones. The mythical Homesh and -his idiotic adventures became portentous. The very servants could -scarcely carry the dishes straight. - -But in the midst of it all the Laird suddenly let his knife and fork -drop on his plate, and stared. Then he quickly exclaimed-- - -"Bless me! lassie!" - -We saw in a second what had occasioned his alarm. The girl's face had -become ghastly white; and she was almost falling away from her chair -when her hostess, who happened to spring to her feet first, caught her, -and held her, and called for water. What could it mean? Mary Avon was -not of the sighing and fainting fraternity. - -And presently she came to herself--and faintly making apologies, would -go from the room. It was her ankle, she murmured--with the face still -white from pain. But when she tried to rise, she fell back again: the -agony was too great. And so we had to carry her. - -About ten minutes thereafter the mistress of the house came back to the -Laird, who had been sitting by himself, in great concern. - -"That girl! that girl!" she exclaims--and one might almost imagine there -are tears in her eyes. "Can you fancy such a thing! She twists her -ankle in getting down from the waggonette--brings back the old -sprain--perhaps lames herself for life--and, in spite of the pain, sits -here laughing and joking, so that she may not spoil our first evening -together! Did you ever hear of such a thing! Sitting here laughing, -with her ankle swelled so that I had to cut the boot off!" - -"Gracious me!" says the Laird; "is it as bad as that?" - -"And if she should become permanently lame--why--why----" - -But was she going to make an appeal direct to the owner of Denny-mains? -If the younger men were not likely to marry a lame little white-faced -girl, that was none of his business. The Laird's marrying days had -departed five-and-thirty years before. - -However, we had to finish our dinner, somehow, in consideration to our -elder guest. And then the surgeon came; and bound up the ankle hard and -fast; and Miss Avon, with a thousand meek apologies for being so stupid, -declared again and again that her foot would be all right in the -morning, and that we must get ready to start. And when her friend -assured her that this preliminary canter of the yacht might just as well -be put off for a few days--until, for example, that young doctor from -Edinburgh came who had been invited to go a proper cruise with us--her -distress was so great that we had to promise to start next day -punctually at ten. So she sent us down again to amuse the Laird. - -But hark! what is this we hear just as Denny-mains is having his whisky -and hot water brought in? It is a gay voice humming on the stairs-- - -_By the margin of fair Zuerich's waters._ - - -"That girl!" cries her hostess angrily, as she jumps to her feet. - -The door opens; and here is Mary Avon, with calm self-possession, making -her way to a chair. - -"I knew you wouldn't believe me," she says coolly, "if I did not come -down. I tell you my foot is as well as may be; and Dot-and-carry-one -will get down to the yacht in the morning as easily as any of you. And -that last story about Homesh," she says to the Laird, with a smile in -the soft black eyes that must have made his heart jump. "Really, sir, -you must tell me the ending of that story; it was so stupid of me!" - -"Shilpit" she may have been; but the Laird, for one, was beginning to -believe that this girl had the courage and nerve of a dozen men. - - - - - *CHAPTER III.* - - *UNDER WAY.* - - -The first eager glance out on this brilliant and beautiful morning; and -behold! it is all a wonder of blue seas and blue skies that we find -before us, with Lismore lying golden-green in the sunlight, and the -great mountains of Mull and Morven shining with the pale etherial -colours of the dawn. And what are the rhymes that are ringing through -one's brain--the echo perchance of something heard far away among the -islands--the islands that await our coming in the west?-- - - _O land of red heather!_ - _O land of wild weather,_ -_And the cry of the waves, and the laugh of the breeze!_ - _O love, now, together_ - _Through the wind and wild weather_ -_We spread our while sails to encounter the seas!_ - - -Up and out, laggards, now; and hoist this big red and blue and white -thing up to the head of the tall pole that the lads far below may know -to send the gig ashore for us! And there, on the ruffled blue waters of -the bay, behold! the noble _White Dove_, with her great mainsail, and -mizzen, and jib, all set and glowing in the sun; and the scarlet caps of -the men are like points of fire in this fair blue picture; and the red -ensign is fluttering in the light north-westerly breeze. Breakfast is -hurried over; and a small person who has a passion for flowers is -dashing hither and thither in the garden until she has amassed an armful -of our old familiar friends--abundant roses, fuchsias, heart's-ease, -various coloured columbine, and masses of southernwood to scent our -floating saloon; the waggonette is at the door, to take our invalid down -to the landing-slip; and the Laird has discarded his dignified costume, -and appears in a shooting-coat and a vast gray wide-awake. As for Mary -Avon, she is laughing, chatting, singing, here, there, and -everywhere--giving us to understand that a sprained ankle is rather a -pleasure than otherwise, and a great assistance in walking; until the -Laird pounces upon her--as one might pounce on a butterfly--and -imprisons her in the waggonette, with many a serious warning about her -imprudence. There let her sing to herself as she likes--amid the wild -confusion of things forgotten till the last moment and thrust upon us -just as we start. - -And here is the stalwart and brown-bearded Captain John--John of Skye we -call him--himself come ashore in the gig, in all his splendour of blue -and brass buttons; and he takes off his peaked cap to the mistress of -our household--whom some of her friends call Queen Titania, because of -her midge-like size--and he says to her with a smile-- - -"And will Mrs. ---- herself be going with us this time?" - -That is Captain John's chief concern: for he has a great regard for this -domineering small woman; and shows his respect for her, and his own high -notions of courtesy, by invariably addressing her in the third person. - -"Oh, yes, John!" says she--and she can look pleasant enough when she -likes--"and this is a young friend of mine, Miss Avon, whom you have to -take great care of on board." - -And Captain John takes off his cap again; and is understood to tell the -young lady that he will do his best, if she will excuse his not knowing -much English. Then, with great care, and with some difficulty, Miss -Avon is assisted down from the waggonette, and conducted along the rough -little landing-slip, and helped into the stern of the shapely and -shining gig. Away with her, boys! The splash of the oars is heard in -the still bay; the shore recedes; the white sails seem to rise higher -into the blue sky as we near the yacht; here is the black hull with its -line of gold--the gangway open--the ropes ready--the white decks -brilliant in the sun. We are on board at last. - -"And where will Mr. ---- himself be for going?" asks John of Skye, as -the men are hauling the gig up to the davits. - -Mr. ---- briefly but seriously explains to the captain that, from some -slight experience of the winds on this coast, he has found it of about -as much use to order the tides to be changed as to settle upon any -definite route. But he suggests the circumnavigation of the adjacent -island of Mull as a sort of preliminary canter for a few days, until a -certain notable guest shall arrive; and he would prefer going by the -south, if the honourable winds will permit. Further, John of Skye is -not to be afraid of a bit of sea, on account of either of those ladies; -both are excellent sailors. With these somewhat vague instructions, -Captain John is left to get the yacht under way; and we go below to look -after the stowage of our things in the various staterooms. - -And what is this violent altercation going on, in the saloon? - -"I will not have a word said against my captain," says Mary Avon. "I am -in love with him already. His English is perfectly correct." - -This impertinent minx talking about correct English in the presence of -the Laird of Denny-mains! - -"Mrs. ---- herself is perfectly correct; it is only politeness; it is -like saying 'Your Grace' to a Duke." - -But who was denying it? Surely not the imperious little woman who was -arranging her flowers on the saloon table; nor yet Denny-mains, who was -examining a box of variegated and recondite fishing-tackle? - -"It is all very well for fine ladies to laugh at the blunders of servant -maids," continues this audacious girl. "'Miss Brown presents her -compliments to Miss Smith; and would you be so kind,' and so on. But -don't they often make the same blunder themselves?" - -Well, this was a discovery! - -"Doesn't Mrs. So-and-So request the honour of the company of Mr. -So-and-So or Miss So-and-So for some purpose or other; and then you find -at one corner of the card '_R.S.V.P._?' 'Answer if YOU please'!" - -A painful silence prevailed. We began to reflect. Whom did she mean to -charge with this deadly crime? - -But her triumph makes her considerate. She will not harry us with scorn. - -"It is becoming far less common now, however," she remarks. "'An answer -is requested,' is much more sensible." - -"It is English," says the Laird, with decision. "Surely it must be more -sensible for an English person to write English. Ah never use a French -word maself." - -But what is the English that we hear now--called out on deck by the -voice of John of Skye? - -"Eachan, slack the lee topping-lift! Ay, and the tackle, too. That'll -do, boys. Down with your main-tack, now!" - -"Why," exclaims our sovereign mistress, who knows something of nautical -matters, "we must have started!" - -Then there is a tumbling up the companion-way; and lo! the land is -slowly leaving us; and there is a lapping of the blue water along the -side of the boat; and the white sails of the _White Dove_ are filled -with this gentle breeze. Deck-stools are arranged; books and -field-glasses and what not scattered about; Mary Avon is helped on deck, -and ensconced in a snug little camp-chair. The days of our summer -idleness have begun. - -And as yet these are but familiar scenes that steal slowly by--the long -green island of Lismore--_Lios-mor_, the Great Garden; the dark ruins of -Duart, sombre as if the shadow of nameless tragedies rested on the -crumbling walls; Loch Don, with its sea-bird-haunted shallows, and Loch -Speliv leading up to the awful solitudes of Glen More; then, stretching -far into the wreathing clouds, the long rampart of precipices, rugged -and barren and lonely, that form the eastern wall of Mull. - -There is no monotony on this beautiful summer morning; the scene changes -every moment, as the light breeze bears us away to the south. For there -is the Sheep Island; and Garveloch--which is the rough island; and -Eilean-na naomha--which is the island of the Saints. But what are these -to the small transparent cloud resting on the horizon?--smaller than any -man's hand. The day is still; and the seas are smooth: cannot we hear -the mermaiden singing on the far shores of Colonsay? - -"Colonsay!" exclaims the Laird, seizing a field-glass. "Dear me! Is -that Colonsay? And they telled me that Tom Galbraith was going there -this very year." - -The piece of news fails to startle us altogether; though we have heard -the Laird speak of Mr. Galbraith before. - -"Ay," says he, "the world will know something o' Colonsay when Tom -Galbraith gets there." - -"Whom did you say?" Miss Avon asks. - -"Why, Galbraith!" says he. "Tom Galbraith!" - -The Laird stares in amazement. Is it possible she has not heard of Tom -Galbraith? And she herself an artist; and coming direct from Edinburgh, -where she has been living for two whole months! - -"Gracious me!" says the Laird. "Ye do not say ye have never heard of -Galbraith--he's an Academeecian!--a Scottish Academeecian!" - -"Oh, yes; no doubt," she says, rather bewildered. - -"There is no one living has had such an influence on our Scotch school -of painters as Galbraith--a man of great abeelity--a man of great and -uncommon abeelity--he is one of the most famous landscape painters of -our day----" - -"I scarcely met any one in Edinburgh," she pleads. - -"But in London--in London!" exclaims the astonished Laird. "Do ye mean -to say you never heard o' Tom Galbraith?" - -"I--I think not," she confesses. "I--I don't remember his name in the -Academy catalogue----" - -"The Royal Academy!" cries the Laird, with scorn. "No, no! Ye need not -expect that. The English Academy is afraid of the Scotchmen: their -pictures are too strong: you do not put good honest whisky beside small -beer. I say the English Academy is afraid of the Scotch school----" - -But flesh and blood can stand this no longer: we shall not have Mary -Avon trampled upon. - -"Look here, Denny-mains: we always thought there was a Scotchman or two -in the Royal Academy itself--and quite capable of holding their own -there, too. Why, the President of the Academy is a Scotchman! And as -for the Academy exhibition, the very walls are smothered with Scotch -hills, Scotch spates, Scotch peasants, to say nothing of the thousand -herring-smacks of Tarbert." - -"I tell ye they are afraid of Tom Galbraith; they will not exhibit one -of his pictures," says the Laird, stubbornly; and here the discussion is -closed; for Master Fred tinkles his bell below, and we have to go down -for luncheon. - -It was most unfair of the wind to take advantage of our absence, and to -sneak off, leaving us in a dead calm. It was all very well, when we -came on deck again, to watch the terns darting about in their -swallow-like fashion, and swooping down to seize a fish; and the strings -of sea-pyots whirring by, with their scarlet beaks and legs; and the -sudden shimmer and hissing of a part of the blue plain, where a shoal of -mackerel had come to the surface; but where were we, now in the open -Atlantic, to pass the night? We relinquished the doubling of the Ross of -Mull; we should have been content--more than content, for the sake of -auld lang syne--to have put into Carsaig; we were beginning even to have -ignominious thoughts of Loch Buy. And yet we let the golden evening -draw on with comparative resignation; and we watched the colour -gathering in the west, and the Atlantic taking darker hues, and a ruddy -tinge beginning to tell on the seamed ridges of Garveloch and the isle -of Saints. When the wind sprung up again--it had backed to due west, -and we had to beat against it with a series of long tacks, that took us -down within sight of Islay and back to Mull apparently all for -nothing--we were deeply engaged in prophesying all manner of things to -be achieved by one Angus Sutherland, an old friend of ours, though yet a -young man enough. - -"Just fancy, sir!" says our hostess to the Laird--the Laird, by the way, -does not seem so enthusiastic as the rest of us, when he hears that this -hero of modern days is about to join our party. "What he has done beats -all that I ever heard about Scotch University students; and you know -what some of them have accomplished in the face of difficulties. His -father is a minister in some small place in Banffshire; perhaps he has -200*l.* a year at the outside. This son of his has not cost him a -farthing for either his maintenance or his education, since he was -fourteen; he took bursaries, scholarships, I don't know what, when he -was a mere lad; supported himself and travelled all over Europe--but I -think it was at Leipsic and at Vienna he studied longest; and the papers -he has written--the lectures--and the correspondence with all the great -scientific people--when they made him a Fellow, all he said was, 'I wish -my mother was alive.'" - -This was rather an incoherent and jumbled account of a young man's -career. - -"A Fellow of what?" says the Laird. - -"A Fellow of the Royal Society! They made him a Fellow of the Royal -Society last year! And he is only seven-and-twenty! I do believe he -was not over one-and-twenty when he took his degree at Edinburgh. And -then--and then--there is really nothing that he doesn't know: is there, -Mary?" - -This sudden appeal causes Mary Avon to flush slightly; but she says -demurely, looking down-- - -"Of course I don't know anything that he doesn't know." - -"Hm!" says the Laird, who does not seem over pleased. "I have observed -that young men who are too brilliant at the first, seldom come to much -afterwards. Has he gained anything substantial? Has he a good -practice? Does he keep his carriage yet?" - -"No, no!" says our hostess, with a fine contempt for such things. "He -has a higher ambition than that. His practice is almost nothing. He -prefers to sacrifice that in the meantime. But his reputation--among -the scientific--why--why, it is European!" - -"Hm!" says the Laird. "I have sometimes seen that persons who gave -themselves up to erudeetion, lost the character of human beings -altogether. They become scientific machines. The world is just made up -of books for them--and lectures--they would not give a halfpenny to a -beggar for fear of poleetical economy----" - -"Oh, how can you say such a thing of Angus Sutherland!" says she--though -he has said no such thing of Angus Sutherland. "Why, here is this girl -who goes to Edinburgh--all by herself--to nurse an old woman in her last -illness; and as Angus Sutherland is in Edinburgh on some -business--connected with the University, I believe--I ask him to call on -her and see if he can give her any advice. What does he do? He stops in -Edinburgh two months--editing that scientific magazine there instead of -in London--and all because he has taken an interest in the old woman and -thinks that Mary should not have the whole responsibility on her -shoulders. Is that like a scientific machine?" - -"No," says the Laird, with a certain calm grandeur; "you do not often -find young men doing that for the sake of an old woman." But of course -we don't know what he means. - -"And I am so glad he is coming to us!" she says, with real delight in -her face. "We shall take him away from his microscopes, and his -societies, and all that. Oh, and he is such a delightful companion--so -simple, and natural, and straightforward! Don't you think so, Mary?" - -Mary Avon is understood to assent: she does not say much--she is so -deeply interested in a couple of porpoises that appear from time to time -on the smooth plain on the sea. - -"I am sure a long holiday would do him a world of good," says this eager -hostess; "but that is too much to expect. He is always too busy. I -think he has got to go over to Italy soon, about some exhibition of -surgical instruments, or something of that sort." - -We had plenty of further talk about Dr. Sutherland, and of the wonderful -future that lay before him, that evening before we finally put into Loch -Buy. And there we dined; and after dinner we found the wan, clear -twilight filling the northern heavens, over the black range of -mountains, and throwing a silver glare on the smooth sea around us. We -could have read on deck at eleven at night---had that been necessary; -but Mary Avon was humming snatches of songs to us, and the Laird was -discoursing of the wonderful influence exerted on Scotch landscape-art -by Tom Galbraith. Then in the south the yellow moon rose; and a golden -lane of light lay on the sea, from the horizon across to the side of the -yacht; and there was a strange glory on the decks and on the tall, -smooth masts. The peace of that night!--the soft air, the silence, the -dreamy lapping of the water! - -"And whatever lies before Angus Sutherland," says one of us--"whether a -baronetcy, or a big fortune, or marriage with an Italian princess--he -won't find anything better than sailing in the _White Dove_ among the -western islands." - - - - - *CHAPTER IV.* - - *A MESSAGE.* - - -What fierce commotion is this that awakes us in the morning--what -pandemonium broken loose of wild storm-sounds---with the stately _White -Dove_, ordinarily the most sedate and gentle of her sex, apparently gone -mad, and flinging herself about as if bent on somersaults? When one -clambers up the companion-way, clinging hard, and puts one's head out -into the gale, behold! there is not a trace of land visible -anywhere--nothing but whirling clouds of mist and rain; and -mountain-masses of waves that toss the _White Dove_ about as if she were -a plaything; and decks all running wet with the driven spray. John of -Skye, clad from head to heel in black oilskins--and at one moment up in -the clouds, the next moment descending into the great trough of the -sea---hangs on to the rope that is twisted round the tiller; and laughs -a good-morning; and shakes the salt water from his shaggy eyebrows and -beard. - -"Hallo! John--where on earth have we got to?" - -"Ay, ay, sir." - -"I say WHERE ARE WE?" is shouted, for the roar of the rushing Atlantic -in deafening. - -"'Deed I not think we are far from Loch Buy," says John of Skye, grimly. -"The wind is dead ahead of us--ay, shist dead ahead!" - -"What made you come out against a headwind then?" - -"When we cam' out," says John--picking his English, "the wind will be -from the norse--ay, a fine light breeze from the norse. And will Mr. ----- himself be for going on now? it is a ferry bad sea for the -leddies--a ferry coorse sea." - -But it appears that this conversation--bawled aloud--has been overheard. -There are voices from below. The skylight of the ladies' cabin is -partly open. - -"Don't mind us," calls Mary Avon. "Go on by all means!" - -The other voice calls-- - -"Why can't you keep this fool of a boat straight? Ask him when we shall -be into the Sound of Iona." - -One might as well ask him when we shall be into the Sound of Jericho or -Jerusalem. With half a gale of wind right in our teeth, and with the -heavy Atlantic swell running, we might labour here all day--and all the -night too--without getting round the Ross of Mull. There is nothing for -it but to turn and run, that we may have our breakfast in peace. Let -her away, then, you brave John of Skye!--slack out the main-sheet, and -give her plenty of it, too: then at the same moment Sandy from Islay -perceives that a haul at the weather topping-lift will clear the boom -from the davits; and now--and now, good Master Fred--our much-esteemed -and shifty Friedrich d'or--if you will but lay the cloth on the table, -we will help you to steady the dancing phantasmagoria of plates and -forks! - -"Dear me!" says the Laird, when we are assembled together, "it has been -an awful night!" - -"Oh, I hope you have not been ill!" says his hostess, with a quick -concern in the soft, clear eyes. - -He does not look as if he had suffered much. He is contentedly chipping -an egg; and withal keeping an eye on the things near him, for the _White -Dove_, still plunging a good deal, threatens at times to make of -everything on the table a movable feast. - -"Oh, no, ma'am, not ill," he says. "But at my time of life, ye see, one -is not as light in weight as one used to be; and the way I was flung -about in that cabin last night was just extraordinary. When I was -trying to put on my boots this morning, I am sure I resembled nothing so -much as a pea in a bladder--indeed it was so--I was knocked about like a -pea in a bladder." - -Of course we expressed great sympathy, and assured him that the _White -Dove_--famed all along this coast for her sober and steady-going -behaviour--would never act so any more. - -"However," said he thoughtfully, "the wakefulness of the night is often -of use to people. Yes, I have come to a decision." - -We were somewhat alarmed: was he going to leave us merely because of -this bit of tossing? - -"I dare say ye know, ma'am," says he slowly, "that I am one of the -Commissioners of the Burgh of Strathgovan. It is a poseetion of grave -responsibility. This very question now--about our getting a steam -fire-engine--has been weighing on my mind for many a day. Well, I have -decided I will no longer oppose it. They may have the steam fire-engine -as far as I am concerned." - -We felt greatly relieved. - -"Yes," continued the Laird, solemnly, "I think I am doing my duty in -this matter as a public man should--laying aside his personal prejudice. -But the cost of it! Do ye know that we shall want bigger nozzles to all -the fire-plugs?" - -Matters were looking grave again. - -"However," said the Laird cheerfully--for he would not depress us too -much, "it may all turn out for the best; and I will telegraph my -decision to Strathgovan as soon as ever the storm allows us to reach a -port." - -The storm, indeed! When we scramble up on deck again, we find that it -is only a brisk sailing breeze we have; and the _White Dove_ is bowling -merrily along, flinging high the white spray from her bows. And then we -begin to see that, despite those driving mists around us, there is -really a fine clear summer day shining far above this twopenny-halfpenny -tempest. The whirling mists break here and there; and we catch glimpses -of a placid blue sky, flecked with lines of motionless cirrhus cloud. -The breaks increase; floods of sunshine fall on the gleaming decks; -clearer and clearer become the vast precipices of southern Mull; and -then, when we get well to the lee of Eilean-straid-ean, behold! the blue -seas around us once more; and the blue skies overhead; and the red -ensign fluttering in the summer breeze. No wonder that Mary Avon sings -her delight--as a linnet sings after the rain; and though the song is -not meant for us at all, but is really hummed to herself as she clings -on to the shrouds and watches the flashing and dipping of the -white-winged gulls, we know that it is all about a jolly young waterman. -The audacious creature: John of Skye has a wife and four children. - -Too quickly indeed does the fair summer day go by--as we pass the old -familiar Duart and begin to beat up the Sound of Mull against a fine -light sailing breeze. By the time we have reached Ardtornish, the Laird -has acquired some vague notion as to how the gaff topsail is set. -Opposite the dark-green woods of Funeray, he tells us of the -extraordinary faculty possessed by Tom Galbraith of representing the -texture of foliage. At Salen we have Master Fred's bell summoning us -down to lunch; and thereafter, on deck, coffee, draughts, crochet, and a -profoundly interesting description of some of the knotty points in the -great Semple heresy case. And here again, as we bear away over almost to -the mouth of Loch Sunart, is the open Atlantic--of a breezy grey under -the lemon-colour and silver of the calm evening sky. What is the use of -going on against this contrary wind, and missing, in the darkness of the -night, all the wonders of the western islands that the Laird is anxious -to see? We resolve to run into Tobermory; and by and by we find -ourselves under the shadow of the wooded rocks, with the little white -town shining along the semicircle of the bay. And very cleverly indeed -does John of Skye cut in among the various craft--showing off a little -bit, perhaps--until the _White Dove_ is brought up to the wind, and the -great anchor-cable goes out with a roar. - -Now it was by the merest accident that we got at Tobermory a telegram -that had been forwarded that very day to meet us on our return voyage. -There was no need for any one to go ashore, for we were scarcely in port -before a most praiseworthy gentleman was so kind as to send us on board -a consignment of fresh flowers, vegetables, milk, eggs, and so -forth--the very things that become of inestimable value to yachting -people. However, we had two women on board; and of course--despite a -certain bandaged ankle--they must needs go shopping. And Mary Avon, -when we got ashore, would buy some tobacco for her favourite Captain -John; and went into the post-office for that purpose, and was having the -black stuff measured out by the yard when some mention was made of the -_White Dove_. Then a question was asked; there was a telegram; it was -handed to Miss Avon, who opened it and read it. - -"Oh!" said she, looking rather concerned; and then she regarded her -friend with some little hesitation. - -"It is my uncle," she says; "he wants to see me on very urgent business. -He is--coming--to see me--the day after to-morrow." - -Blank consternation followed this announcement. This person, even though -he was Mary Avon's sole surviving relative, was quite intolerable to us. -East Wind we had called him in secret, on the few occasions on which he -had darkened our doors. And just as we were making up our happy family -party--with the Laird, and Mary, and Angus Sutherland--to sail away to -the far Hebrides, here was this insufferable creature--with his raucous -voice, his washed-out eyes, his pink face, his uneasy manner, and -general groom or butler-like appearance--thrusting himself on us! - -"Well, you know, Mary," says her hostess--entirely concealing her dismay -in her anxious politeness--"we shall almost certainly be home by the day -after to-morrow, if we get any wind at all. So you had better telegraph -to your uncle to come on to Castle Osprey, and to wait for you if you -are not there; we cannot be much longer than that. And Angus Sutherland -will be there; he will keep him company until we arrive." - -So that was done, and we went on board again--one of us meanwhile vowing -to himself that ere ever Mr. Frederick Smethurst set sail with us on -board the _White Dove_, a rifle-bullet through her hull would send that -gallant vessel to the lobsters. - -Now what do you think our Mary Avon set to work to do--all during this -beautiful summer evening, as we sat on deck and eyed curiously the other -craft in the bay, or watched the firs grow dark against the -silver-yellow twilight? We could not at first make out what she was -driving at. Her occupation in the world, so far as she had any--beyond -being the pleasantest of companions and the faithfullest of friends--was -the painting of landscapes in oil, not the construction of Frankenstein -monsters. But here she begins by declaring to us that there is one type -of character that has never been described by any satirist, or -dramatist, or fictionist--a common type, too, though only becoming -pronounced in rare instances. It is the moral Tartuffe, she -declares--the person who is through and through a hypocrite, not to -cloak evil doings, but only that his eager love of approbation may be -gratified. Look now how this creature of diseased vanity, of plausible -manners, of pretentious humbug, rises out of the smoke like the figure -summoned by a wizard's wand! As she gives us little touches here and -there of the ways of this professor of bonhomie--this bundle of -affectations--we begin to prefer the most diabolical villainy that any -thousand of the really wicked Tartuffes could have committed. He grows -and grows. His scraps of learning, as long as those more ignorant than -himself are his audience; his mock humility anxious for praise; his -parade of generous and sententious sentiment; his -pretence--pretence--pretence--all arising from no evil machinations -whatever, but from a morbid and restless craving for esteem. Hence, -horrible shadow! Let us put out the candles and get to bed. - -But next morning, as we find ourselves out on the blue Atlantic again, -with Ru-na-Gaul lighthouse left far behind, and the pale line of Coll at -the horizon, we begin to see why the skill and patient assiduity of this -amateur psychologist should have raised that ghost for us the night -before. Her uncle is coming. He is not one of the plausible kind. And -if it should be necessary to invite him on board, might we not the more -readily tolerate his cynical bluntness and rudeness, after we have been -taught to abhor as the hatefullest of mortals the well-meaning hypocrite -whose vanity makes his life a bundle of small lies? Very clever indeed, -Miss Avon--very clever. But don't you raise any more ghosts; they are -unpleasant company--even as an antidote. And now, John of Skye, if it -must be that we are to encounter this pestilent creature at the end of -our voyage, clap on all sail now, and take us right royally down through -these far islands of the west. Ah! do we not know them of old? Soon as -we get round the Cailleach Point we descry the nearest of them amid the -loneliness of the wide Atlantic sea. For there is Carnaburg, with her -spur of rock; and Fladda, long and rugged, and bare; and Lunga, with her -peak; and the Dutchman's Cap--a pale blue in the south. How bravely the -_White Dove_ swings on her way--springing like a bird over the western -swell! And as we get past Ru-Treshnish, behold! another group of -islands--Gometra and the green-shored Ulva, that guard the entrance to -Loch Tua; and Colonsay, the haunt of the sea birds; and the rock of -Erisgeir--all shining in the sun. And then we hear a strange -sound--different from the light rush of the waves--a low, and sullen, -and distant booming, such as one faintly hears in a sea-shell. As the -_White Dove_ ploughs on her way, we come nearer and nearer to this -wonder of the deep--the ribbed and fantastic shores of Staffa; and we -see how the great Atlantic rollers, making for the cliffs of Gribun and -Burg, are caught by those outer rocks and torn into masses of white -foam, and sent roaring and thundering into the blackness of the caves. -We pass close by; the air trembles with the shock of that mighty surge; -there is a mist of spray rising into the summer air. And then we sail -away again; and the day wears on as the white-winged _White Dove_ bounds -over the heavy seas; and Mary Avon--as we draw near the Ross of Mull, -all glowing in the golden evening--is singing a song of Ulva. - -But there is no time for romance, as the _White Dove_ (drawing eight -feet of water) makes in for the shallow harbour outside Bunessan. - -"Down foresail!" calls out our John of Skye; and by and by her head -comes up to the wind, the great mainsail flapping in the breeze. And -again, "Down chub, boys!" and there is another rattle and roar amid the -silence of this solitary little bay. The herons croak their fright and -fly away on heavy wing; the curlews whistle shrilly; the sea-pyots whirr -along the lonely shores. And then our good Friedrich d'or sounds his -silver-toned bell. - -The stillness of this summer evening on deck; the glory deepening over -the wide Atlantic; the delightful laughter of the Laird over those "good -ones" about Homesh; the sympathetic glance of Mary Avon's soft black -eyes: did we not value them all the more that we knew we had something -far different to look forward to? Even as we idled away the beautiful -and lambent night, we had a vague consciousness that our enemy was -stealthily drawing near. In a day or two at the most we should find the -grim spectre of the East Wind in the rose-garden of Castle Osprey. - - - - - *CHAPTER V.* - - *A BRAVE CAREER.* - - -Bur when we went on deck the next morning we forgot all about the -detestable person who was about to break in upon our peace (there was -small chance that our faithful Angus Sutherland might encounter the -snake in this summer paradise, and trample on him, and pitch him out; -for this easy way of getting rid of disagreeable folk is not permitted -in the Highlands nowadays) as we looked on the beautiful bay shining all -around us. - -"Dear me!" said Denny-mains, "if Tom Galbraith could only see that now! -It is a great peety he has never been to this place. I'm thinking I must -write to him." - -The Laird did not remember that we had an artist on board--one who, if -she was not so great an artist as Mr. Galbraith, had at least exhibited -one or two small landscapes in oil at the Royal Academy. But then the -Academicians, though they might dread the contrast between their own -work and that of Tom Galbraith, could have no fear of Mary Avon. - -And even Mr. Galbraith himself might have been puzzled to find among his -pigments any equivalent for the rare and clear colours of this morning -scene as now we sailed away from Bunessan with a light topsail breeze. -How blue the day was--blue skies, blue seas, a faint transparent blue -along the cliffs of Burg and Gribun, a darker blue where the far -Ru-Treshanish ran out into the sea, a shadow of blue to mark where the -caves of Staffa retreated from the surface of the sun-brown rocks! And -here, nearer at hand, the warmer colours of the shore--the soft, velvety -olive-greens of the moss and breckan; the splashes of lilac where the -rocks were bare of herbage; the tender sunny reds where the granite -promontories ran out to the sea; the beautiful cream-whites of the sandy -bays! - -Here, too, are the islands again as we get out into the open--Gometra, -with its one white house at the point; and Inch Kenneth, where the seals -show their shining black heads among the shallows; and Erisgeir and -Colonsay, where the skarts alight to dry their wings on the rocks; and -Staffa, and Lunga, and the Dutchman, lying peaceful enough now on the -calm blue seas. We have time to look at them, for the wind is slight, -and the broad-beamed _White Dove_ is not a quick sailer in a light -breeze. The best part of the forenoon is over before we find ourselves -opposite to the gleaming white sands of the northern bays of Iona. - -"But surely both of us together will be able to make him stay longer -than ten days," says the elder of the two women to the younger--and you -may be sure she was not speaking of East Wind. - -Mary Avon looks up with a start; then looks down again--perhaps with the -least touch of colour in her face--as she says hurriedly-- - -"Oh, I think you will. He is your friend. As for me--you see--I--I -scarcely know him." - -"Oh, Mary!" says the other reproachfully. "You have been meeting him -constantly all these two months; you must know him better than any of -us. I am sure I wish he was on board now--he could tell us all about -the geology of the islands, and what not. It will be delightful to have -somebody on board who knows something." - -Such is the gratitude of women!--and the Laird had just been describing -to her some further points of the famous heresy case. - -"And then he knows Gaelic!" says the elder woman. "He will tell us what -all the names of the islands mean." - -"Oh, yes," says the younger one, "he understands Gaelic very well, -though he cannot speak much of it." - -"And I think he is very fond of boats," remarks our hostess. - -"Oh, exceedingly--exceedingly!" says the other, who, if she does not -know Angus Sutherland, seems to have picked up some information about -him somehow. "You cannot imagine how he has been looking forward to -sailing with you; he has scarcely had any holiday for years." - -"Then he must stay longer than ten days," says the elder woman; adding -with a smile, "you know, Mary, it is not the number of his patients that -will hurry him back to London." - -"Oh, but I assure you," says Miss Avon seriously, "that he is not at all -anxious to have many patients--as yet! Oh, no!--I never knew any one -who was so indifferent about money. I know he would live on bread and -water--if that were necessary--to go on with his researches. He told me -himself that all the time he was at Leipsic his expenses were never more -than 1*l.* a week." - -She seemed to know a good deal about the circumstances of this young -F.R.S. - -"Look at what he has done with those anaesthetics," continues Miss Avon. -"Isn't it better to find out something that does good to the whole world -than give yourself up to making money by wheedling a lot of old women?" - -This estimate of the physician's art was not flattering. - -"But," she says warmly, "if the Government had any sense, that is just -the sort of man they would put in a position to go on with his -invaluable work. And Oxford and Cambridge, with all their wealth, they -scarcely even recognise the noblest profession that a man can devote -himself to--when even the poor Scotch Universities and the Universities -all over Europe have always had their medical and scientific chairs. I -think it is perfectly disgraceful!" - -Since when had she become so strenuous an advocate of the endowment of -research? - -"Why, look at Dr. Sutherland--when he is burning to get on with his own -proper work--when his name is beginning to be known all over Europe--he -has to fritter away his time in editing a scientific magazine and in -those hospital lectures. And that, I suppose, is barely enough to live -on. But I know," she says, with decision, "that in spite of -everything--I know that before he is five-and-thirty, he will be -President of the British Association." - -Here, indeed, is a brave career for the Scotch student: cannot one -complete the sketch as it roughly exists in the minds of those two -women? - -At twenty-one, B.M. of Edinburgh. - -At twenty-six, F.R.S. - -At thirty, Professor of Biology at Oxford: the chair founded through the -intercession of the women of Great Britain. - -At thirty-five, President of the British Association. - -At forty, a baronetcy, for further discoveries in the region of -anaesthetics. - -At forty-five, consulting physician to half the gouty old gentlemen of -England, and amassing an immense fortune. - -At fifty---- - -Well, at fifty, is it not time that "the poor Scotch student," now -become great and famous and wealthy, should look around for some -beautiful princess to share his high estate with him? He has not had -time before to think of such matters. But what is this now? Is it that -microscopes and test-tubes have dimmed his eyes? Is it that honours and -responsibilities have silvered his hair? Or, is the drinking deep of -the Pactolus stream a deadly poison? There is no beautiful princess -awaiting him anywhere. He is alone among his honours. There was once a -beautiful princess--beautiful-souled and tender-eyed, if not otherwise -too lovely--awaiting him among the Western Seas; but that time is over -and gone many a year ago. The opportunity has passed. Ambition called -him away, and he left her; and the last he saw of her was when he bade -good-bye to the _White Dove_. - -What have we to do with these idle dreams? We are getting within sight -of Iona village now; and the sun is shining on the green shores, and on -the ruins of the old cathedral, and on that white house just above the -cornfield. And as there is no good anchorage about the island, we have -to make in for a little creek on the Mull side of the Sound, called -Polterriv, or the Bull-hole; and this creek is narrow, tortuous, and -shallow; and a yacht drawing eight feet of water has to be guided with -some circumspection--especially if you go up to the inner harbour above -the rock called the Little Bull. And so we make inquiries of John of -Skye, who has not been with us here before. It is even hinted, that if -he is not quite sure of the channel, we might send the gig over to Iona -for John Macdonald, who is an excellent pilot. - -"John Macdonald!" exclaims John of Skye, whose professional pride has -been wounded. "Will John Macdonald be doing anything more than I wass do -myself in the Bull-hole--ay, last year--last year I will tek my own -smack out of the Bull-hole at the norse end, and ferry near low water, -too; and her deep-loaded? Oh, yes, I will be knowing the Bull-hole this -many a year." - -And John of Skye is as good as his word. Favoured by a flood-tide, we -steal gently into the unfrequented creek, behind the great rocks of red -granite; and so extraordinarily clear is the water that, standing -upright on the deck, we can see the white sand of the bottom with shoals -of young saithe darting this way and that. And then just as we get -opposite an opening in the rocks, through which we can descry the -northern shores of Iona, and above those the blue peak of the Dutchman, -away goes the anchor with a short, quick rush; her head swings round to -meet the tide; the _White Dove_ is safe from all the winds that blow. -Now lower away the gig, boys, and bear us over the blue waters of the -Sound! - -"I am really afraid to begin," Mary Avon says, as we remonstrate with -her for not having touched a colour-tube since she started. "Besides, -you know, I scarcely look on it that we have really set out yet. This -is only a sort of shaking ourselves into our places; I am only getting -accustomed to the ways of our cabin now. I shall scarcely consider that -we have started on our real voyaging until----" - -Oh, yes, we know very well. Until we have got Angus Sutherland on -board. But what she really said was, after slight hesitation: - -"----until we set out for the Northern Hebrides." - -"Ay, it's a good thing to feel nervous about beginning," says the Laird, -as the long sweep of the four oars brings us nearer and nearer to the -Iona shores. "I have often heard Tom Galbraith say that to the younger -men. He says if a young man is over confident, he'll come to nothing. -But there was a good one I once heard Galbraith tell about a young man -that was pentin at Tarbert--that's Tarbert on Loch Fyne, Miss Avon. Ay, -well, he was pentin away, and he was putting in the young lass of the -house as a fisher-lass; and he asked her if she could not get a creel to -strap on her back, as a background for her head, ye know. Well, says -she----" - -Here the fierce humour of the story began to bubble up in the Laird's -blue-grey eyes. We were all half laughing already. It was impossible to -resist the glow of delight on the Laird's face. - -"Says she--just as pat as ninepence--says she, 'it's your ain head that -wants a creel!'" - -The explosion was inevitable. The roar of laughter at this good one was -so infectious that a subdued smile played over the rugged features of -John of Skye. "_It's your ain head that wants a creel:_" the Laird -laughed, and laughed again, until the last desperately suppressed sounds -were something like _kee! kee! kee!_ Even Mary Avon pretended to -understand. - -"There was a real good one," says he, obviously overjoyed to have so -appreciative an audience, "that I mind of reading in the Dean's -_Reminiscences_. It was about an old leddy in Edinburgh who met in a -shop a young officer she had seen before. He was a tall young man, and -she eyed him from head to heel, and says she--ha! ha!--says she, '_Od, -ye're a lang lad: God gie ye grace._' Dry--very dry--wasn't it? There -was real humour in that--a pawky humour that people in the South cannot -understand at all. '_Od_', says she, '_ye're a lang lad: God grant ye -grace._' There was a great dale of character in that." - -We were sure of it; but still we preferred the Laird's stories about -Homesh. We invariably liked best the stories at which the Laird laughed -most--whether we quite understood their pawky humour or not. - -"Dr. Sutherland has a great many stories about the Highlanders," says -Miss Avon timidly; "they are very amusing." - -"As far as I have observed," remarked the Laird--for how could he relish -the notion of having a rival anecdote-monger on board?--"as far as I -have observed, the Highland character is entirely without humour. Ay, I -have heard Tom Galbraith say that very often, and he has been everywhere -in the Highlands." - -"Well, then," says Mary Avon, with a quick warmth of indignation in her -face--how rapidly those soft dark eyes could change their -expression!--"I hope Mr. Galbraith knows more about painting than he -knows about the Highlanders! I thought that anybody who knows anything -knows that the Celtic nature is full of imagination, and humour, and -pathos, and poetry; and the Saxon--the Saxon!--it is his business to -plod over ploughed fields, and be as dull and commonplace as the other -animals he sees there!" - -Gracious goodness!--here was a tempest! The Laird was speechless; for, -indeed, at this moment we bumped against the sacred shores--that is to -say, the landing-slip--of Iona; and had to scramble on to the big -stones. Then we walked up and past the cottages, and through the -potato-field, and past the white inn, and so to the hallowed shrine and -its graves of the kings. We spent the whole of the afternoon there. - -When we got back to the yacht and to dinner we discovered that a friend -had visited us in our absence, and had left of his largesse behind -him--nasturtiums and yellow-and-white pansies, and what not--to say -nothing of fresh milk, and crisp, delightful lettuce. We drank his -health. - -Was it the fear of some one breaking in on our domestic peace that made -that last evening among the western islands so lovely to us? We went -out in the gig after dinner; the Laird put forth his engines of -destruction to encompass the innocent lythe; we heard him humming the -"Haughs o' Cromdale" in the silence. The wonderful glory of that -evening!--Iona become an intense olive-green against the gold and -crimson of the sunset; the warm light shining along the red granite of -western Mull. Then the yellow moon rose in the south--into the calm -violet-hued vault of the heavens; and there was a golden fire on the -ripples and on the wet blades of the oars as we rowed back with laughter -and singing. - -_Sing tantara! sing tantara!_ -_Sing tantara! sing tantara!_ - _Said he, the Highland army rues_ - _That ere they came to Cromdale!_ - - -And then, next morning, we were up at five o'clock. If we were going to -have a tooth pulled, why not have the little interview over at once? -East Wind would be waiting for us at Castle Osprey. - -Blow, soft westerly breeze, then, and bear us down by Fion-phort, and -round the granite Ross--shining all a pale red in the early dawn. And -here is Ardalanish Point; and there, as the morning goes by, are the -Carsaig arches, and then Loch Buy, and finally the blue Firth of Lorn. -Northward now, and still northward--until, far away, the white house -shining amidst the firs, and the flag fluttering in the summer air. -Have they descried us, then? Or is the bunting hoisted in honour of -guests? The pale cheek of Mary Avon tells a tale as she descries that -far signal; but that is no business of ours. Perhaps it is only of her -uncle that she is thinking. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI.* - - *OUR NEW GUESTS.* - - -Behold, now!--this beautiful garden of Castle Osprey all ablaze in the -sun--the roses, pansies, poppies, and what not bewildering our eyes -after the long looking at the blue water and, in the midst of the -brilliant paradise--just as we had feared--the snake! He did not scurry -away at our approach, as snakes are wont to do; or raise his horrent -head, and hiss. The fact is, we found him comfortably seated under a -drooping ash, smoking. He rose and explained that he had strolled up -from the shore to await our coming. He did not seem to notice that Mary -Avon, as she came along, had to walk slowly, and was leaning on the arm -of the Laird. - -Certainly nature had not been bountiful to this short, spare person who -had now come among us. He had closely-cropped, coarse grey hair; an -eagle beak; a certain pink and raw appearance of the face, as if -perpetual east winds had chafed the skin; and a most pernicious habit of -loudly clearing his husky throat. Then with the aggressive nose went a -well-defined pugilist's jaw and a general hang-dog scowl about the -mouth. For the rest Mr. Smethurst seemed desirous of making up for -those unpleasant features which nature had bestowed upon him by a -studied air of self-possession, and by an extreme precision of dress. -Alack, and well-a-day! these laudable efforts were of little avail. -Nature was too strong for him. The assumption of a languid air was not -quite in consonance with the ferrety grey eyes and the bull-dog mouth; -the precision of his costume only gave him the look of a well-dressed -groom, or a butler gone on the turf. There was not much grateful to the -sight about Mr. Frederick Smethurst. - -But were we to hate the man for being ugly? Despite his raw face, he -might have the white soul of an angel. And in fact we knew absolutely -nothing against his public character or private reputation, except that -he had once gone through the Bankruptcy Court; and even of that little -circumstance our womenfolk were not aware. However, there was no doubt -at all that a certain coldness--apparent to us who knew her well--marked -the manner of this small lady who now went up and shook hands with him, -and declared--unblushingly--that she was so glad he had run up to the -Highlands. - -"And you know," said she, with that charming politeness which she would -show to the arch-fiend himself if he were properly introduced to her, -"you know, Mr. Smethurst, that yachting is such an uncertain thing, one -never knows when one may get back; but if you could spare a few days to -take a run with us, you would see what a capital mariner Mary has -become, and I am sure it would be a great pleasure to us." - -These were actually her words. She uttered them without the least -tremor of hesitation. She looked him straight in the face with those -clear, innocent, confiding eyes of hers. How could the man tell that -she was wishing him at Jericho? - -And it was in silence that we waited to hear our doom pronounced. A -yachting trip with this intolerable Jonah on board! The sunlight went -out of the day; the blue went out of the sky and the seas; the world was -filled with gloom, and chaos, and East Wind! - -Imagine, then, the sudden joy with which we heard of our deliverance! -Surely it was not the raucous voice of Frederick Smethurst, but a sound -of summer bells. - -"Oh, thank you," he said, in his affectedly indifferent way; "but the -fact is, I have run up to see Mary only on a little matter of business, -and I must get back at once. Indeed, I purpose leaving by the Dalmally -coach in the afternoon. Thank you very much, though; perhaps some other -time I may be more fortunate." - -How we had wronged this poor man! We hated him no longer. On the -contrary, great grief was expressed over his departure; and he was -begged at least to stay that one evening. No doubt he had heard of Dr. -Angus Sutherland, who had made such discoveries in the use of -anaesthetics? Dr. Sutherland was coming by the afternoon steamer. Would -not he stay and meet him at dinner? - -Our tears broke out afresh--metaphorically--when East Wind persisted in -his intention of departure; but of course compulsion was out of the -question. And so we allowed him to go into the house, to have that -business interview with his niece. - -"A poor crayture!" remarked the Laird confidently, forgetting that he -was talking of a friend of ours. "Why does he not speak out like a man, -instead of drawling and dawdling? His accent is jist insufferable." - -"And what business can he have with Mary?" says our sovereign lady -sharply--just as if a man with a raw skin and an eagle-beak must -necessarily be a pickpocket. "He was the trustee of that little fortune -of hers, I know; but that is all over. She got the money when she came -of age. What can he want to see her about now?" - -We concerned ourselves not with that. It was enough for us that the -snake was about to retreat from our summer paradise of his own free will -and pleasure. And Angus Sutherland was coming; and the provisioning of -the yacht had to be seen to; for to-morrow--to-morrow we spread our -white wings again and take flight to the far north! - -Never was parting guest so warmly speeded. We concealed our tears as the -coach rolled away. We waved a hand to him. And then, when it was -suggested that the wagonette that had brought Mary Avon down from Castle -Osprey might just as well go along to the quay--for the steamer bringing -Dr. Sutherland would be in shortly--and when we actually did set out in -that direction, there was so little grief on our faces that you could -not have told we had been bidding farewell to a valued friend and -relative. - -Now if our good-hearted Laird had had a grain of jealousy in his nature, -he might well have resented the manner in which these two women spoke of -the approaching guest. In their talk the word "he" meant only one -person. "He" was sure to come by this steamer. "He" was so punctual in -his engagements. Would he bring a gun or a rod; or would the sailing be -enough amusement for him? What a capital thing it was for him to be -able to take an interest in some such out-of-door exercise, as a -distraction to the mind! And so forth, and so forth. The Laird heard -all this, and his expectations were no doubt rising and rising. -Forgetful of his disappointment on first seeing Mary Avon, he was in all -likelihood creating an imaginary figure of Angus Sutherland--and, of -course, this marvel of erudition and intellectual power must be a tall, -wan, pale person, with the travail of thinking written in lines across -the spacious brow. The Laird was not aware that for many a day after we -first made the acquaintance of the young Scotch student he was generally -referred to in our private conversation as "Brose." - -And, indeed, the Laird did stare considerably when he saw--elbowing his -way through the crowd and making for us with a laugh of welcome on the -fresh-coloured face--a stout-set, muscular, blue-eyed, sandy-haired, -good-humoured-looking, youngish man; who, instead of having anything -Celtic about his appearance, might have been taken for the son of a -south-country farmer. Our young Doctor was carrying his own -portmanteau, and sturdily shoving his way through the porters who would -fain have seized it. - -"I am glad to see you, Angus," said our queen regent, holding out her -hand; and there was no ceremonial politeness in that reception--but you -should have seen the look in her eyes. - -Then he went on to the waggonette. - -"How do you do, Miss Avon?" said he, quite timidly, like a school-boy. -He scarcely glanced up at her face, which was regarding him with a very -pleasant welcome; he seemed relieved when he had to turn and seize his -portmanteau again. Knowing that he was rather fond of driving, our -mistress and admiral-in-chief offered him the reins, but he declined the -honour; Mary Avon was sitting in front. "Oh, no, thank you," said he -quite hastily, and with something uncommonly like a blush. The Laird, -if he had been entertaining any feeling of jealousy, must have been -reassured. This Doctor-fellow was no formidable rival. He spoke very -little--he only listened--as we drove away to Castle Osprey. Mary Avon -was chatting briskly and cheerfully, and it was to the Laird that she -addressed that running fire of nonsense and merry laughter. - -But the young Doctor was greatly concerned when, on our arrival at -Castle Osprey, he saw Mary Avon helped down with much care, and heard -the story of the sprain. - -"Who bandages your ankle?" said he at once, and without any shyness now. - -"I do it myself," said she cheerfully. "I can do it well enough." - -"Oh, no, you cannot!" said he abruptly; "a person stooping cannot. The -bandage should be as tight, and as smooth, as the skin of a drum. You -must let some one else do that for you." - -And he was disposed to resent this walking about in the garden before -dinner. What business had she to trifle with such a serious matter as a -sprain? And a sprain which was the recall of an older sprain. "Did she -wish to be lame for life?" he asked sharply. - -Mary Avon laughed, and said that worse things than that had befallen -people. He asked her whether she found any pleasure in voluntary -martyrdom; she blushed a little, and turned to the Laird. - -The Laird was at this moment laying before us the details of a most -gigantic scheme. It appeared that the inhabitants of Strathgovan, not -content with a steam fire-engine, were talking about having a public -park--actually proposing to have a public park, with beds of flowers, -and iron seats; and, to crown all, a gymnasium, where the youths of the -neighbourhood might twirl themselves on the gay trapeze to their hearts' -content. And where the subscriptions were to come from; and what were -the hardiest plants for borders; and whether the gymnasium should be -furnished with ropes or with chains--these matters were weighing heavily -on the mind of our good friend of Denny-mains. Angus Sutherland -relapsed into silence, and gazed absently at a tree-fuchsia that stood -by. - -"It is a beautiful tree, is it not?" said a voice beside him--that of -our midge-like empress. - -He started. - -"Oh, yes," he said cheerfully. "I was thinking I should like to live -the life of a tree like that, dying in the winter, you know, and being -quite impervious to frost, and snow, and hard weather; and then, as soon -as the fine warm spring and summer came round, coming to life again and -spreading yourself out to feel all the sunlight and the warm winds. That -must be a capital life." - -"But do you really think they can feel that? Why, you must believe that -those trees and flowers are alive!" - -"Does anybody doubt it?" said he quite simply. "They are certainly -alive. Why----" - -And here he bethought himself for a moment. - -"If I only had a good microscope now," said he eagerly, "I would show -you the life of a plant directly--in every cell of it: did you never see -the constant life in each cell--the motion of the chlorophyll granules -circling and circling night and day? Did no one ever show you that?" - -Well, no one had ever shown us that. We may now and again have -entertained angels unawares; but we were not always stumbling against -Fellows of the Royal Society. - -"Then I must borrow one somewhere," said he decisively, "and show you -the secret life of even the humblest plant that exists. And then look -what a long life it is, in the case of the perennial plants. Did you -ever think of that? Those great trees in the Yosemite valley--they were -alive and feeling the warm sunlight and the winds about them when Alfred -was hiding in the marshes; and they were living the same undisturbed -life when Charles the First had his head chopped off; and they were -living--in peace and quietness--when all Europe had to wake up to stamp -out the Napoleonic pest; and they are alive now and quite careless of -the little creatures that come to span out their circumference, and -ticket them, and give them ridiculous names. Had any of the patriarchs -a life as long as that?" - -The Laird eyed this young man askance. There was something uncanny about -him. What might not he say when--in the northern solitudes to which we -were going--the great Semple heresy-case was brought on for discussion? - -But at dinner the Laird got on very well with our new guest; for the -latter listened most respectfully when Denny-mains was demonstrating the -exceeding purity, and strength, and fitness of the speech used in the -south of Scotland. And indeed the Laird was generous. He admitted that -there were blemishes. He deprecated the introduction of French words; -and gave us a much longer list of those aliens than usually appears in -books. What about _conjee_, and _que-vee_, and _fracaw_ as used by -Scotch children and old wives? - -Then after dinner--at nine o'clock the wonderful glow of the summer -evening was still filling the drawing-room--the Laird must needs have -Mary Avon sing to him. It was not a custom of hers. She rarely would -sing a song of set purpose. The linnet sings all day--when you do not -watch her; but she will not sing if you go and ask. - -However, on this occasion, her hostess went to the piano, and sat down -to play the accompaniment; and Mary Avon stood beside her and sang, in -rather a low voice--but it was tender enough--some modern version of the -old ballad of the Queen's Maries. What were the words? These were of -them, any way:-- - -_Yestreen the Queen had four Maries;_ -_This night she'll hae but three:_ -_There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton,_ -_And Mary Carmichael, and me._ - - -But indeed, if you had seen that graceful slim figure--clad all in black -velvet, with the broad band of gold fringe round the neck--and the -small, shapely, smoothly-brushed head above the soft swathes of white -muslin--and if you had caught a glimpse of the black eyelashes drooping -outward from the curve of the pale cheek--and if you had heard the -tender, low voice of Mary Avon, you might have forgotten about the -Queen's Maries altogether. - -And then Dr. Sutherland: the Laird was determined--in true Scotch -fashion--that everybody who could not sing should be goaded to sing. - -"Oh, well," said the young man, with a laugh, "you know a student in -Germany must sing whether he can or not. And I learned there to smash -out something like an accompaniment also." - -And he went to the piano without more ado and did smash out an -accompaniment. And if his voice was rather harsh?--well, we should have -called it raucous in the case of East Wind, but we only called it manly -and strenuous when it was Angus Sutherland who sang. And it was a manly -song, too--a fitting song for our last night on shore, the words hailing -from the green woods of Fuinary, the air an air that had many a time -been heard among the western seas. It was the song of the Biorlinn[#] -that he sang to us; we could hear the brave chorus and the splash of the -long oars:-- - -_Send the biorlinn on careering!_ -_Cheerily and all together--_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together--_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - -_Give her way and show her wake_ -_'Mid showering spray and curling eddies--_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together--_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - -Do we not hear now the measured stroke in the darkness of the morning? -The water springs from her bows; one by one the headlands are passed. -But lo! the day is breaking; the dawn will surely bring a breeze with -it; and then the sail of the gallant craft will bear her over the -seas:-- - -_Another cheer, our Isle appears!_ -_Our biorlinn bears her on the faster--_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together--_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - -_Ahead she goes! the land she knows!_ -_Behold! the snowy shores of Canna--_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together--_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - -A long, strong pull together indeed: who could resist joining in the -thunder of the chorus? And we were bound for Canna, too: this was our -last night on shore. - - -[#] _Biorlinn_--that is, a rowing-boat. The word is pronounced -_byurlen_. The song, which in a measure imitates the rhythm peculiar to -Highland poetry--consisting in a certain repetition of the same vowel -sounds--is the production of Dr. Macleod, of Morven. And here, for the -benefit of any one who minds such things, is a rough draft of the air, -arranged by a most charming young lady, who, however, says she would -much rather die than have her name mentioned:-- - -[Illustration: Music fragments] - - -Our last night on shore. In such circumstances one naturally has a -glance round at the people with whom one is to be brought into such -close contact for many and many a day. But in this particular case, what -was the use of speculating, or grumbling, or remonstrating? There is a -certain household that is ruled with a rod of iron. And if the mistress -of that household chose to select as her summer companions a "shilpit -bit thing," and a hard-headed, ambitious Scotch student, and a parochial -magnate haunted by a heresy-case, how dared one object? There is such a -thing as peace and quietness. - -But however unpromising the outlook might be, do we not know the remark -that is usually made by that hard-worked officer, the chief mate, when, -on the eve of a voyage, he finds himself confronted by an unusually -mongrel crew? He regards those loafers and outcasts--from the Bowery, -and Ratcliffe Highway, and the Broomielaw--Greeks, niggers, and -Mexicans--with a critical and perhaps scornful air, and forthwith -proceeds to address them in the following highly polished manner:-- - -"By etcetera-etcetera, you are an etceteraed rum-looking lot; but -etcetera-etcetera me _if I don't lick you into shape before we get to -Rio_." - -And so--good-night!--and let all good people pray for fair skies and a -favouring breeze! And if there is any song to be heard in our dreams, -let it be the song of the Queen's Maries--in the low, tender voice of -Mary Avon:-- - -_There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton,_ -_And Mary Carmichael, and me._ - - - - - *CHAPTER VII.* - - *NORTHWARD.* - - -We have bidden good-bye to the land; the woods and the green hills have -become pale in the haze of the summer light; we are out here, alone, on -the shining blue plain. And if our young Doctor betrays a tendency to -keep forward--conversing with John of Skye about blocks, and tackle, and -winches; and if the Laird--whose parental care and regard for Mary Avon -is becoming beautiful to see--should have quite a monopoly of the young -lady, and be more bent than ever on amusing her with his "good ones;" -and if our queen and governor should spend a large portion of her time -below, in decorating cabins with flowers, in overhauling napery, and in -earnest consultation with Master Fred about certain culinary mysteries; -notwithstanding all these divergences of place and occupation, our -little kingdom afloat is compact enough. There is always, for example, -a reassembling at meals. There is an instant community of interest when -a sudden cry calls all hands on deck to regard some new thing--the -spouting of a whale or the silvery splashing of a shoal of mackerel. -But now--but now--if only some cloud-compelling Jove would break this -insufferably fine weather, and give us a tearing good gale! - -It is a strange little kingdom. It has no postal service. Shilling -telegrams are unknown in it; there is no newspaper at breakfast. There -are no barrel-organs; nor rattling hansoms raising the dust in windy -streets; there is no afternoon scandal; overheated rooms at midnight are -a thing of the past. Serene, independent, self-centred, it minds its -own affairs; if the whole of Europe were roaring for war, not even an -echo of the cry would reach us. We only hear the soft calling of the -sea-birds as we sit and read, or talk, or smoke; from time to time -watching the shadows move on the blistering hot decks, or guessing at -the names of the blue mountains that rise above Loch Etive and Lochaber. -At the present moment there is a faint summer haze over these mountains; -as yet we have around us none of the dazzling light and strangely -intense colours that are peculiar to this part of the world, and that -are only possible, in fact, in an atmosphere frequently washed clear by -squalls of rain. This question of rain turns up at lunch. - -"They prayed for rain in the churches last Sunday--so Captain John -says," Mary Avon remarks. - -"The distilleries are stopped: that's very serious," continues the -Laird. - -"Well," says Queen T., "people talk about the rain in the West -Highlands. It must be true, as everybody says it is true. But -now--excepting the year we went to America with Sylvia Balfour--we have -been here for five years running; and each year we made up our mind for -a deluge--thinking we had deserved it, you know. Well, it never came. -Look at this now." - -And the fact was that we were lying motionless on the smooth bosom of -the Atlantic, with the sun so hot on the decks that we were glad to get -below. - -"Very strange--very strange, indeed," remarked the Laird, with a -profound air. "Now what value are we to put on any historical evidence -if we find such a conflict of testimony about what is at our own doors? -How should there be two opeenions about the weather in the West -Highlands? It is a matter of common experience--dear me! I never heard -the like." - -"Oh, but I think we might try to reconcile those diverse opinions!" said -Angus Sutherland, with an absolute gravity. "You hear mostly the -complaints of London people, who make much of a passing shower. Then -the tourist and holiday folk, especially from the South, come in the -autumn, when the fine summer weather has broken. And then," he added, -addressing himself with a frank smile to the small creature who had been -expressing her wonder over the fine weather, "perhaps, if you are -pleased with your holiday on the whole, you are not anxious to remember -the wet days; and then you are not afraid of a shower, I know; and -besides that, when one is yachting, one is more anxious for wind than -for fine weather." - -"Oh, I am sure that is it!" called out Mary Avon quite eagerly. She did -not care how she destroyed the Laird's convictions about the value of -historical evidence. "That is an explanation of the whole thing." - -At this, our young Doctor---who had been professing to treat this matter -seriously merely as a joke--quickly lowered his eyes. He scarcely ever -looked Mary Avon in the face when she spoke to him, or when he had to -speak to her. And a little bit of shy embarrassment in his manner -towards her--perceivable only at times--was all the more singular in a -man who was shrewd and hard-headed enough, who had knocked about the -world and seen many persons and things, and who had a fair amount of -unassuming self-confidence, mingled with a vein of sly and reticent -humour. He talked freely enough when he was addressing our -admiral-in-chief. He was not afraid to meet _her_ eyes. Indeed, they -were so familiar friends that she called him by his Christian name--a -practice which in general she detested. But she would as soon have -thought of applying "Mr." to one of her own boys at Epsom College as to -Angus Sutherland. - -"Well, you know, Angus," says she pleasantly, "you have definitely -promised to go up to the Outer Hebrides with us, and back. The longer -the calms last, the longer we shall have you. So we shall gladly put up -with the fine weather." - -"It is very kind of you to say so; but I have already had such a long -holiday----" - -"Oh!" said Mary Avon, with her eyes full of wonder and indignation. She -was too surprised to say any more. She only stared at him. She knew he -had been working night and day in Edinburgh. - -"I mean," said he hastily, and looking down, "I have been away so long -from London. Indeed, I was getting rather anxious about my next month's -number; but luckily, just before I left Edinburgh, a kind friend sent me -a most valuable paper, so I am quite at ease again. Would you like to -read it, sir? It is set up in type." - -He took the sheets from his pocket, and handed them to the Laird. -Denny-mains looked at the title. It was _On the Radiolarians of the -Coal Measures_, and it was the production of a well-known professor. -The Laird handed back the paper without opening it. - -"No, thank you," said he, with some dignity. "If I wished to be -instructed, I would like a safer guide than that man." - -We looked with dismay on this dangerous thing that had been brought on -board: might it not explode and blow up the ship? - -"Why," said our Doctor, in unaffected wonder, and entirely mistaking the -Laird's exclamation, "he is a perfect master of his subject." - -"There is a great deal too much speculation nowadays on these matters, -and parteecularly among the younger men," remarked the Laird severely. -And he looked at Angus Sutherland. "I suppose now ye are well acquainted -with the _Vestiges of Creation_?" - -"I have heard of the book," said Brose--regretfully confessing his -ignorance, "but I never happened to see it." - -The Laird's countenance lightened. - -"So much the better--so much the better. A most mischievous and -unsettling book. But all the harm it can do is counteracted by a noble -work--a conclusive work that leaves nothing to be said. Ye have read -the _Testimony of the Rocks_, no doubt?" - -"Oh, yes, certainly," our Doctor was glad to be able to say; "but--but -it was a long time ago--when I was a boy, in fact." - -"Boy, or man, you'll get no better book on the history of the earth. I -tell ye, sir, I never read a book that placed such firm conviction in my -mind. Will ye get any of the new men they are talking about as keen an -observer and as skilful in arguing as Hugh Miller? No, no; not one of -them dares to try to upset the _Testimony of the Rocks_." - -Angus Sutherland appealed against this sentence of finality only in a -very humble way. - -"Of course, sir," said he meekly, "you know that science is still moving -forward----" - -"Science?" repeated the Laird. "Science may be moving forward or moving -backward; but can it upset the facts of the earth? Science may say what -it likes; but the facts remain the same." - -Now this point was so conclusive that we unanimously hailed the Laird as -victor. Our young Doctor submitted with an excellent good humour. He -even promised to post that paper on the Radiolarians at the very first -post-office we might reach: we did not want any such explosive compounds -on board. - -That night we only got as far as Fishnish Bay--a solitary little harbour -probably down on but few maps; and that we had to reach by getting out -the gig for a tow. There was a strange bronze-red in the northern -skies, long after the sun had set; but in here the shadow of the great -mountains was on the water. We could scarcely see the gig; but Angus -Sutherland had joined the men and was pulling stroke; and along with the -measured splash of the oars, we heard something about "_Ho, ro, -clansmen!_" Then, in the cool night air, there was a slight fragrance -of peat-smoke; we knew we were getting near the shore. - -"He's a fine fellow, that," says the Laird, generously, of his defeated -antagonist. "A fine fellow. His knowledge of different things is just -remarkable; and he's as modest as a girl. Ay, and he can row, too; a -while ago when it was lighter, I could see him put his shoulders into -it. Ay, he's a fine, good-natured fellow, and I am glad he has not been -led astray by that mischievous book, the _Vestiges of Creation_." - -Come on board now, boys, and swing up the gig to the davits! Twelve -fathoms of chain?--away with her then!--and there is a roar in the -silence of the lonely little bay. And thereafter silence; and the sweet -fragrance of the peat in the night air, and the appearance, above the -black hills, of a clear, shining, golden planet that sends a quivering -line of light across the water to us. And, once more, good-night and -pleasant dreams! - -But what is this in the morning? There have been no pleasant dreams for -John of Skye and his merry men during the last night; for here we are -already between Mingary Bay and Ru-na-Gaul Lighthouse; and before us is -the open Atlantic, blue under the fair skies of the morning. And here -is Dr. Sutherland, at the tiller, with a suspiciously negligent look -about his hair and shirt-collar. - -"I have been up since four," says he, with a laugh. "I heard them -getting under way, and did not wish to miss anything. You know these -places are not so familiar to me as they are to you." - -"Is there going to be any wind to-day, John?" - -"No mich," says John of Skye, looking at the cloudless blue vault above -the glassy sweeps of the sea. - -Nevertheless, as the morning goes by, we get as much of a breeze as -enables us to draw away from the mainland--round Ardnamurchan ("the -headland of the great sea") and out into the open--with Muick Island, -and the sharp Scuir of Eigg, and the peaks of Rum lying over there on -the still Atlantic, and far away in the north the vast and spectral -mountains of Skye. - -And now the work of the day begins. Mary Avon, for mere shame's sake, -is at last compelled to produce one of her blank canvases and open her -box of tubes. And now it would appear that Angus Sutherland--though -deprived of the authority of the sick-room--is beginning to lose his -fear of the English young lady. He makes himself useful--not with the -elaborate and patronising courtesy of the Laird, but in a sort of -submissive, matter-of-fact shifty fashion. He sheathes the spikes of -her easel with cork so that they shall not mark the deck. He rigs up, -to counterbalance that lack of stability, a piece of cord with a heavy -weight. Then, with the easel fixed, he fetches her a deck-chair to sit -in, and a deck-stool for her colours, and these and her he places under -the lee of the foresail, to be out of the glare of the sun. Thus our -artist is started; she is going to make a sketch of the after-part of -the yacht with Hector of Moidart at the tiller: beyond, the calm blue -seas, and a faint promontory of land. - -Then the Laird--having confidentially remarked to Miss Avon that Tom -Galbraith, than whom there is no greater authority living, invariably -moistens the fresh canvas with megilp before beginning work--has turned -to the last report of the Semple case. - -"No, no," says he to our sovereign lady, who is engaged in some -mysterious work in wool, "it does not look well for the Presbytery to go -over every one of the charges in the major proposeetion--supported by -the averments in the minor--only to find them irrelevant; and then bring -home to him the part of the libel that deals with tendency. No, no; -that shows a lamentable want of purpose. In view of the great danger to -be apprehended from these secret assaults on the inspiration of the -Scriptures, they should have stuck to each charge with tenahcity. Now, -I will just show ye where Dr. Carnegie, in defending -_Secundo_--illustrated as it was with the extracts and averments in the -minor--let the whole thing slip through his fingers." - -But if any one were disposed to be absolutely idle on this calm, -shining, beautiful day--far away from the cares and labours of the land? -Out on the taffrail, under shadow of the mizen, there is a seat that is -gratefully cool. The Mare of the sea no longer bewilders the eyes; one -can watch with a lazy enjoyment the teeming life of the open Atlantic. -The great skarts go whizzing by, long-necked, rapid of flight. The -gannets poise in the air, and then there is a sudden dart downwards, and -a spout of water flashes up where the bird has dived. The guillemots -fill the silence with their soft kurrooing--and here they are on all -sides of us--_Kirroo! Kurroo!_--dipping their bills in the water, -hastening away from the vessel, and then rising on the surface to flap -their wings. But this is a strange thing: they are all in -pairs--obviously mother and child--and the mother calls _Kurroo! -Kurroo!_--and the young one unable as yet to dive or swim, answers -_Pe-yoo-it! Pe-yoo-it!_ and flutters and paddles after her. But where -is the father? And has the guillemot only one of a family? Over that -one, at all events, she exercises a valiant protection. Even though the -stem of the yacht seems likely to run both of them down, she will -neither dive nor fly until she has piloted the young one out of danger. - -Then a sudden cry startles the Laird from his heresy-case and Mary Avon -from her canvas. A sound far away has turned all eyes to the north; -though there is nothing visible there, over the shining calm of the sea, -but a small cloud of white spray that slowly sinks. In a second or two, -however, we see another jet of white water arise; and then a great brown -mass heave slowly over; and then we hear the spouting of the whale. - -"What a huge animal!" cries one. "A hundred feet!" - -"Eighty, any way!" - -The whale is sheering off to the north: there is less and less chance of -our forming any correct estimate. - -"Oh, I am sure it was a hundred! Don't you think so, Angus?" says our -admiral. - -"Well," says the Doctor, slowly--pretending to be very anxious about -keeping the sails full (when there was no wind)--"you know there is a -great difference between 'yacht measurement' and 'registered tonnage.' -A vessel of fifty registered tons may become eighty or ninety by yacht -measurement. And I have often noticed," continues this graceless young -man, who takes no thought how he is bringing contempt on his elders, -"that objects seen from the deck of a yacht are naturally subject to -'yacht measurement.' I don't know what the size of that whale may be. -Its registered tonnage, I suppose, would be the number of Jonahs it -could carry. But I should think that if the apparent 'yacht -measurement' was a hundred feet, the whale was probably about twenty -feet long." - -It was thus he tried to diminish the marvels of the deep! But, however -he might crush us otherwise, we were his masters on one point. The -Semple heresy-case was too deep even for him. What could he make of -"_the first alternative of the general major_"? - -And see now, on this calm summer evening, we pass between Muick and -Eigg; and the sea is like a plain of gold. As we draw near the sombre -mass of Rum, the sunset deepens, and a strange lurid mist hangs around -this remote and mountainous island rising sheer from the Atlantic. -Gloomy and mysterious are the vast peaks of Haleval and Haskeval; we -creep under them--favoured by a flood-tide--and the silence of the -desolate shores seems to spread out from them and to encompass us. - -Mary Avon has long ago put away her canvas; she sits and watches; and -her soft black eyes are full of dreaming as she gazes up at those -thunder-dark mountains against the rosy haze of the west. - -"Haleval and Haskeval?" Angus Sutherland repeats, in reply to his -hostess; but he starts all the same, for he has been covertly regarding -the dark and wistful eyes of the girl sitting there. "Oh, these are -Norse names. Scuir na Gillean, on the other hand, is Gaelic--it is _the -peak of the young men_. Perhaps, the Norsemen had the north of the -island, and the Celts the south." - -Whether they were named by Scandinavian or by Celt, Haleval and Haskeval -seemed to overshadow us with their sultry gloom as we slowly glided into -the lonely loch lying at their base. We were the only vessel there; and -we could make out no sign of life on shore, until the glass revealed to -us one or two half-ruined cottages. The northern twilight shone in the -sky far into the night; but neither that clear metallic glow, nor any -radiance from moon, or planet, or star, seemed to affect the -thunder-darkness of Haskeval and Haleval's silent peaks. - -There was another tale to tell below--the big saloon aglow with candles; -the white table-cover with its centre-piece of roses, nasturtiums, and -ferns; the delayed dinner, or supper, or whatever it might be called, -all artistically arranged; our young Doctor most humbly solicitous that -Mary Avon should be comfortably seated, and, in fact, quite usurping the -office of the Laird in that respect; and then a sudden sound in the -galley, a hissing as of a thousand squibs, telling us that Master Fred -had once more and ineffectually tried to suppress the released genie of -the bottle by jamming down the cork. Forthwith the Laird, with his -old-fashioned ways, must needs propose a health, which is that of our -most sovereign and midge-like mistress; and this he does with an -elaborate and gracious and sonorous courtesy. And surely there is no -reason why Mary Avon should not for once break her habit and join in -that simple ceremony; especially when it is a real live Doctor--and not -only a Doctor, but an encyclopaedia of scientific and all other -knowledge--who would fain fill her glass? Angus Sutherland timidly but -seriously pleads; and he does not plead in vain; and you would think -from his look that she had conferred an extraordinary favour on him. -Then we--we propose a health too--the health of the FOUR WINDS! and we -do not care which of them it is who is coming to-morrow, so long as he -or she comes in force. Blow, breezes, blow!--from the Coolins of Skye, -or the shores of Coll, or the glens of Arisaig and Moidart--for -to-morrow morning we shake out once more the white wings of the _White -Dove_, and set forth for the loneliness of the northern seas. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII.* - - *PLOTS AND COUNTER-PLOTS.* - - -Now the Laird has a habit--laudable or not--of lingering over an -additional half-cup at breakfast, as an excuse for desultory talk; and -thus it is, on this particular morning, the young people having gone on -deck to see the yacht get under way, that Denny-mains has a chance of -revealing to us certain secret schemes of his over which he has -apparently been brooding. How could we have imagined that all this -plotting and planning had been going on beneath the sedate exterior of -the Commissioner for the Burgh of Strathgovan? - -"She's just a wonderful bit lass!" he says, confidently, to his hostess; -"as happy and contented as the day is long; and when she's not singing -to herself, her way of speech has a sort of--a sort of music in it that -is quite new to me. Yes, I must admit that; I did not know that the -southern English tongue was so accurate and pleasant to the ear. Ay, -but what will become of her?" - -What, indeed! The lady whom he was addressing had often spoken to him -of Mary Avon's isolated position in the world. - -"It fairly distresses me," continues the good-hearted Laird, "when I -think of her condeetion--not at present, when she has, if I may be -allowed to say so, _several_ friends near her who would be glad to do -what they could for her; but by and by, when she is becoming older----" - -The Laird hesitated. Was it possible, after all, that he was about to -hint at the chance of Mary Avon becoming the mistress of the mansion and -estate of Denny-mains? Then he made a plunge. - -"A young woman in her position should have a husband to protect her, -that is what I am sure of. Have ye never thought of it, ma'am?" - -"I should like very well to see Mary married," says the other, demurely. -"And I know she would make an excellent wife." - -"An excellent wife!" exclaims the Laird; and then he adds, with a tone -approaching to severity, "I tell ye he will be a fortunate man that gets -her. Oh, ay; I have watched her. I can keep my eyes open when there is -need. Did you hear her asking the captain about his wife and children? -I tell you there's _human nature_ in that lass." - -There was no need for the Laird to be so pugnacious; we were not -contesting the point. However, he resumed-- - -"I have been thinking," said he, with a little more shyness, "about my -nephew. He's a good lad. Well, ye know, ma'am, that I do not approve -of young men being brought up in idleness, whatever their prospects must -be; and I have no doubt whatever that my nephew Howard is working hard -enough--what with the reading of law-books, and attending the courts, -and all that--though as yet he has not had much business. But then -there is no necessity. I do not think he is a lad of any great -ambeetion, like your friend Mr. Sutherland, who has to fight his way in -the world in any case. But Howard--I have been thinking now that if he -was to get married and settled, he might give up the law business -altogether; and, if they were content to live in Scotland, he might look -after Denny-mains. It will be his in any case, ye know; he would have -the interest of a man looking after his own property. Now, I will tell -ye plainly, ma'am, what I have been thinking about this day or two back; -if Howard would marry your young lady friend, that would be agreeable to -me." - -The calm manner in which the Laird announced his scheme showed that it -had been well matured. It was a natural, simple, feasible arrangement, -by which two persons in whom he took a warm interest would be benefited -at once. - -"But then, sir," said his hostess, with a smile which she could not -wholly repress, "you know people never do marry to please a third -person--at least, very seldom." - -"Oh, there can be no forcing," said the Laird with decision. "But I -have done a great deal for Howard; may I not expect that he will do -something for me?" - -"Oh, doubtless, doubtless," says this amiable lady, who has had some -experience in match-making herself; "but I have generally found that -marriages that would be in every way suitable and pleasing to friends, -and obviously desirable, are precisely the marriages that never come -off. Young people, when they are flung at each other's heads, to use -the common phrase, never will be sensible and please their relatives. -Now if you were to bring your nephew here, do you think Mary would fall -in love with him because she ought? More likely you would find that, -out of pure contrariety, she would fall in love with Angus Sutherland, -who cannot afford to marry, and whose head is filled with other things." - -"I am not sure, I am not sure," said the Laird, musingly. "Howard is a -good-looking young fellow, and a capital lad, too. I am not so sure." - -"And then, you know," said the other shyly, for she will not plainly say -anything to Mary's disparagement, "young men have different tastes in -their choice of a wife. He might not have the high opinion of her that -you have." - -At this the Laird gave a look of surprise--even of resentment. - -"Then I'll tell ye what it is, ma'am," said he, almost angrily; "if my -nephew had the chance of marrying such a girl, and did not do so, I -should consider him--I should consider him _a fool_, and say so." - -And then he added, sharply-- - -"And do ye think I would let Denny-mains pass into the hands of _a -fool_?" - -Now this kind lady had had no intention of rousing the wrath of the -Laird in this manner; and she instantly set about pacifying him. And -the Laird was easily pacified. In a minute or two he was laughing -good-naturedly at himself for getting into a passion; he said it would -not do for one at his time of life to try to play the part of the stern -father as they played that in theatre pieces--there was to be no -forcing. - -"But he's a good lad, ma'am, a good lad," said he, rising as his hostess -rose; and he added, significantly, "he is no fool, I assure ye, ma'am; -he has plenty of common sense." - -When we get up on deck again, we find that the _White Dove_ is gently -gliding out of the lonely Loch Scresorst, with its solitary house among -the trees, and its crofters' huts at the base of the sombre hills. And -as the light cool breeze--gratefully cool after the blazing heat of the -last day or two--carries us away northward, we see more and more of the -awful solitudes of Haleval and Haskeval, that are still thunderous and -dark under the hazy sky. Above the great shoulders, and under the purple -peaks, we see the far-reaching corries opening up, with here and there a -white waterfall just visible in the hollows. There is a sense of escape -as we draw away from that overshadowing gloom. - -Then we discover that we have a new skipper to-day, _vice_ John of Skye, -deposed. The fresh hand is Mary Avon, who is at the tiller, and looking -exceedingly business-like. She has been promoted to this post by Dr. -Sutherland, who stands by; she receives explanations about the procedure -of Hector of Moidart, who is up aloft, lacing the smaller topsail to the -mast; she watches the operations of John of Skye and Sandy, who are at -the sheets below; and, like a wise and considerate captain, she pretends -not to notice Master Fred, who is having a quiet smoke by the windlass. -And so, past those lonely shores sails the brave vessel--the yawl _White -Dove_, Captain Mary Avon, bound for anywhere. - -But you must not imagine that the new skipper is allowed to stand by the -tiller. Captain though she may be, she has to submit civilly to -dictation, in so far as her foot is concerned, Our young Doctor has -compelled her to be seated, and he has passed a rope round the tiller -that so she can steer from her chair, and from time to time he gives -suggestions, which she receives as orders. - -"I wish I had been with you when you first sprained your foot," he says. - -"Yes?" she answers, with humble inquiry in her eyes. - -"I would have put it in plaster of Paris," he says, in a matter-of-fact -way, "and locked you up in the house for a fortnight; at the end of that -time you would not know which ankle was the sprained one." - -There was neither "with your leave" nor "by your leave" in this young -man's manner when he spoke of that accident. He would have taken -possession of her. He would have discarded your bandages and hartshorn, -and what not; when it was Mary Avon's foot that was concerned--it was -intimated to us--he would have had his own way in spite of all comers. - -"I wish I had known," she says, timidly, meaning that it was the -treatment she wished she had known. - -"There is a more heroic remedy," said he, with a smile; "and that is -walking the sprain off. I believe that can be done, but most people -would shrink from the pain. Of course, if it were done at all, it would -be done by a woman; women can bear pain infinitely better than men." - -"Oh, do you think so!" she says, in mild protest. "Oh, I am sure not. -Men are so much braver than women, so much stronger----" - -But this gentle quarrel is suddenly stopped, for some one calls -attention to a deer that is calmly browsing on one of the high slopes -above that rocky shore, and instantly all glasses are in request. It is -a hind, with a beautifully shaped head and slender legs; she takes no -notice of the passing craft, but continues her feeding, walking a few -steps onward from time to time. In this way she reaches the edge of a -gully in the rugged cliffs where there is some brushwood, and probably a -stream; into this she sedately descends, and we see her no more. - -Then there is another cry; what is this cloud ahead, or waterspout -resting on the calm bosom of the sea? Glasses again in request, amid -many exclamations, reveal to us that this is a dense cloud of birds; a -flock so vast that towards the water it seems black; can it be the dead -body of a whale that has collected this world of wings from all the -Northern seas? Hurry on, _White Dove_; for the floating cloud with the -black base is moving and seething--in fantastic white fumes, as it -were--in the loveliness of this summer day. And now, as we draw nearer, -we can descry that there is no dead body of a whale causing that -blackness; but only the density of the mass of seafowl. And nearer and -nearer as we draw, behold! the great gannets swooping down in such -numbers that the sea is covered with a mist of waterspouts; and the air -is filled with innumerable cries; and we do not know what to make of -this bewildering, fluttering, swimming, screaming mass of terns, -guillemots, skarts, kittiwakes, razorbills, puffins, and gulls. But -they draw away again. The herring-shoal is moving northward. The -murmur of cries becomes more remote, and the seething cloud of the -sea-birds is slowly dispersing. When the _White Dove_ sails up to the -spot at which this phenomenon was first seen, there is nothing visible -but a scattered assemblage of guillemots--_kurroo! kurroo!_ answered by -_pe-yoo-it! pe-yoo-it!_--and great gannets--"as big as a sheep," says -John of Skye--apparently so gorged that they lie on the water within -stone's-throw of the yacht, before spreading out their long, snow-white, -black-tipped wings to bear them away over the sea. - -And now, as we are altering our course to the west--far away to our -right stand the vast Coolins of Skye--we sail along the northern shores -of Rum. There is no trace of any habitation visible; nothing but the -precipitous cliffs, and the sandy bays, and the outstanding rocks dotted -with rows of shining black skarts. When Mary Avon asks why those sandy -bays should be so red, and why a certain ruddy warmth of colour should -shine through even the patches of grass, our F.R.S. begins to speak of -powdered basalt rubbed down from the rocks above. He would have her -begin another sketch, but she is too proud of her newly acquired -knowledge to forsake the tiller. - -The wind is now almost dead aft, and we have a good deal of gybing. -Other people might think that all this gybing was an evidence of bad -steering on the part of our new skipper; but Angus Sutherland--and we -cannot contradict an F.R.S.--assures Miss Avon that she is doing -remarkably well; and, as he stands by to lay hold of the main sheet when -the boom swings over, we are not in much danger of carrying away either -port or starboard davits. - -"Do you know," says he lightly, "I sometimes think I ought to apply for -the post of surgeon on board a man-of-war? That would just suit me----" - -"Oh, I hope you will not," she blurts out quite inadvertently; and -thereafter there is a deep blush on her face. - -"I should enjoy it immensely, I know," says he, wholly ignorant of her -embarrassment, because he is keeping an eye on the sails. "I believe I -should have more pleasure in life that way than any other----" - -"But you do not live for your own pleasure," says she hastily, perhaps -to cover her confusion. - -"I have no one else to live for, any way," says he, with a laugh; and -then he corrected himself. "Oh, yes, I have. My father is a sad -heretic. He has fallen away from the standards of his faith; he has set -up idols--the diplomas and medals I have got from time to time. He has -them all arranged in his study, and I have heard that he positively sits -down before them and worships them. When I sent him the medal from -Vienna--it was only bronze--he returned to me his Greek Testament, that -he had interleaved and annotated when he was a student; I believe it was -his greatest possession." - -"And you would give up all that he expects from you to go away and be a -doctor on board a ship!" says Mary Avon, with some proud emphasis. -"That would not be my ambition if I were a man, and--and--if I -had--if----" - -Well, she could not quite say to Brose's face what she thought of his -powers and prospects; so she suddenly broke away and said-- - -"Yes; you would go and do that for your own amusement? And what would -the amusement be? Do you think they would let the doctor interfere with -the sailing of the ship?" - -"Well," said he, laughing, "that is a practical objection. I don't -suppose the captain of a man-of-war or even of a merchant vessel would -be as accommodating as your John of Skye. Captain John has his -compensation when he is relieved; he can go forward, and light his -pipe." - -"Well, I think for _your father's sake_," says Miss Avon, with decision, -"you had better put that idea out of your head, once and for all." - -Now blow, breezes, blow! What is the great headland that appears, -striking out into the wide Atlantic? - -_Ahead she goes! the land she knows!_ -_Behold! the snowy shores of Canna!_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together,_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - - -"Tom Galbraith," the Laird is saying solemnly to his hostess, "has -assured me that Rum is the most picturesque island on the whole of the -western coast of Scotland. That is his deleeberate opinion. And indeed -I would not go so far as to say he was wrong. Arran! They talk about -Arran! Just look at those splendid mountains coming sheer down to the -sea; and the light of the sun on them! Eh me, what a sunset there will -be this night!" - -"Canna?" says Dr. Sutherland, to his interlocutor, who seems very -anxious to be instructed. "Oh, I don't know. _Canna_ in Gaelic is -simply a can; but then _Cana_ is a whale; and the island in the distance -looks long and flat on the water. Or it may be from _canach_--that is, -the moss-cotton; or from _cannach_--that is, the sweet-gale. You see, -Miss Avon, ignorant people have an ample choice." - -Blow! breezes blow! as the yellow light of the afternoon shines over the -broad Atlantic. Here are the eastern shores of Canna, high and rugged, -and dark with caves; and there the western shores of Rum, the mighty -mountains aglow in the evening light. And this remote and solitary -little bay, with its green headlands, and its awkward rocks at the -mouth, and the one house presiding over it amongst that shining -wilderness of shrubs and flowers? Here is fair shelter for the night. - -After dinner, in the lambent twilight, we set out with the gig; and -there was much preparation of elaborate contrivances for the entrapping -of fish. But the Laird's occult and intricate tackle--the spinning -minnows, and spoons, and india-rubber sand-eels--proved no competitor -for the couple of big white flies that Angus Sutherland had busked. And -of course Mary Avon had that rod; and when some huge lithe dragged the -end of the rod fairly under water, and when she cried aloud, "Oh! oh! I -can't hold it; he'll break the rod!" then arose our Doctor's word of -command:-- - -"Haul him in! Shove out the butt! No scientific playing with a lithe! -Well done!--well done!--a five-pounder I'll bet ten farthings!" - -It was not scientific fishing; but we got big fish--which is of more -importance in the eyes of Master Fred. And then, as the night fell, we -set out again for the yacht; and the Doctor pulled stroke; and he sang -some more verses of the _biorlinn_ song as the blades dashed fire into -the rushing sea:-- - -_Proudly o'er the waves we'll bound her,_ -_As the staghound bounds the heather!_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together,_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - -_Through the eddying tide we'll guide her,_ -_Round each isle and breezy headland,_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together,_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - -The yellow lamp at the bow of the yacht grew larger and larger; the hull -of the boat looked black between us and the starlit heavens; as we -clambered on board there was a golden glow from the saloon skylight. And -then, during the long and happy evening, amid all the whist-playing and -other amusements going forward, what about certain timid courtesies and -an occasional shy glance between those two young people? Some of us -began to think that if the Laird's scheme was to come to anything, it -was high time that Mr. Howard Smith put in an appearance. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX.* - - *A WILD STUDIO.* - - -There is a fine bustle of preparation next morning--for the gig is -waiting by the side of the yacht; and Dr. Sutherland is carefully -getting our artist's materials into the stern; and the Laird is busy -with shawls and waterproofs; and Master Fred brings along the -luncheon-basket. Our Admiral-in-chief prefers to stay on board; she has -letters to write; there are enough of us to go and be tossed on the -Atlantic swell off the great caves of Canna. - -And as the men strike their oars in the water and we wave a last adieu, -the Laird catches a glimpse of our larder at the stern of the yacht. -Alas! there is but one remaining piece of fresh meat hanging there, -under the white canvas. - -"It reminds me," says he, beginning to laugh already, "of a good one -that Tom Galbraith told me--a real good one that was. Tom had a little -bit yacht that his man and himself sailed when he was painting, ye know; -and one day they got into a bay where Duncan--that was the man's -name--had some friends ashore. Tom left him in charge of the yacht; -and--and--ha! ha! ha!--there was a leg of mutton hanging at the stern. -Well, Tom was rowed ashore; and painted all day; and came back to the -yacht in the afternoon. _There was no leg of mutton_! 'Duncan,' says -he, 'where is the leg of mutton?' Duncan pretended to be vastly -surprised. 'Iss it away?' says he. 'Away?' says Tom. 'Don't you see -it is away? I want to know who took it!' Duncan looked all round -him--at the sea and the sky--and then says he--then says he, 'Maybe it -wass a dog!'--ha! ha! hee! hee! hee!--'maybe it wass a dog,' says he; -and they were half a mile from the shore! I never see the canvas at the -stern of a yacht without thinking o' Tom Galbraith and the leg of -mutton;" and here the Laird laughed long and loud again. - -"I have heard you speak once or twice about Tom Galbraith," remarked our -young Doctor, without meaning the least sarcasm; "he is an artist, I -suppose?" - -The Laird stopped laughing. There was a look of indignant -wonder--approaching to horror--on his face. But when he proceeded, with -some dignity and even resentment, to explain to this ignorant person the -immense importance of the school that Tom Galbraith had been chiefly -instrumental in forming; and the high qualities of that artist's -personal work; and how the members of the Royal Academy shook in their -shoes at the mere mention of Tom Galbraith's name, he became more -pacified; for Angus Sutherland listened with great respect, and even -promised to look out for Mr. Galbraith's work if he passed through -Edinburgh on his way to the south. - -The long, swinging stroke of the men soon took us round the successive -headlands until we were once more in the open, with the mountains of -Skye in the north, and, far away at the horizon, a pale line which we -knew to be North Uist. And now the green shores of Canna were becoming -more precipitous; and there was a roaring of the sea along the spurs of -black rock; and the long Atlantic swell, breaking on the bows of the -gig, was sending a little more spray over us than was at all desirable. -Certainly no one who could have seen the Doctor at this moment--with his -fresh-coloured face dripping with the salt water and shining in the -sunlight--would have taken him for a hard-worked and anxious student. -His hard work was pulling stroke-oar, and he certainly put his shoulders -into it, as the Laird had remarked; and his sole anxiety was about Mary -Avon's art-materials. That young lady shook the water from the two -blank canvases, and declared it did not matter a bit. - -These lonely cliffs!--becoming more grim and awful every moment, as this -mite of a boat still wrestles with the great waves, and makes its way -along the coast. And yet there are tender greens where the pasturage -appears on the high plateaus; and there is a soft ruddy hue where the -basalt shines. The gloom of the picture appears below--in the caves -washed out of the conglomerate by the heavy seas; in the spurs and -fantastic pillars and arches of the black rock; and in this leaden-hued -Atlantic springing high over every obstacle to go roaring and booming -into the caverns. And these innumerable white specks on the sparse -green plateaus and on this high promontory: can they be mushrooms in -millions? Suddenly one of the men lifts his oar from the rowlock, and -rattles it on the gunwale of the gig. At this sound a cloud rises from -the black rocks; it spreads; the next moment the air is darkened over -our heads; and almost before we know what has happened, this vast -multitude of puffins has wheeled by us, and wheeled again further out to -sea--a smoke of birds! And as we watch them, behold! stragglers come -back--in thousands upon thousands--the air is filled with them--some of -them swooping so near us that we can see the red parrot-like beak and -the orange-hued web-feet, and then again the green shelves of grass and -the pinnacles of rock become dotted with those white specks. The -myriads of birds; the black caverns; the arches and spurs of rock; the -leaden-hued Atlantic bounding and springing in white foam: what says -Mary Avon to that? Has she the courage? - -"If you can put me ashore?" says she. - -"Oh, we will get you ashore, somehow," Dr. Sutherland answers. - -But, indeed, the nearer we approach that ugly coast the less we like the -look of it. Again and again we make for what should be a sheltered bit; -but long before we can get to land we can see through the plunging sea -great masses of yellow, which we know to be the barnacled rock; and then -ahead we find a shore that, in this heavy surf, would make match-wood of -the gig in three seconds. Our Doctor, however, will not give in. If he -cannot get the gig on to any beach or into any creek, he will land our -artist somehow. And at last--and in spite of the remonstrances of John -of Skye--he insists on having the boat backed in to a projecting mass of -conglomerate, all yellowed over with small shell-fish, against which the -sea is beating heavily. It is an ugly landing-place; we can see the -yellow rock go sheer down in the clear green sea; and the surf is -spouting up the side in white jets. But if she can watch a high wave, -and put her foot there--and there--will she not find herself directly on -a plateau of rock at least twelve feet square? - -"Back her, John!--back her!--" and therewith the Doctor, watching his -chance, scrambles out and up to demonstrate the feasibility of the -thing. And the easel is handed out to him; and the palette and -canvases; and finally Mary Avon herself. Nay, even the Laird will -adventure, sending on before him the luncheon-basket. - -It is a strange studio--this projecting shell-crusted rock, surrounded -on three sides by the sea, and on the fourth by an impassable cliff. And -the sounds beneath our feet--there must be some subterranean passage or -cave into which the sea roars and booms. But Angus Sutherland rigs up -the easel rapidly; and arranges the artist's camp-stool; and sets her -fairly agoing; then he proposes to leave the Laird in charge of her. He -and the humble chronicler of the adventures of these people mean to have -some further exploration of this wild coast. - -But we had hardly gone a quarter of a mile or so--it was hard work -pulling in this heavy sea--when the experienced eye of Sandy from Islay -saw that something was wrong. - -"What's that?" he said, staring. - -We turned instantly, and strove to look through the mists of spray. -Where we had left the Laird and Mary Avon there were now visible only -two mites, apparently not bigger than puffins. But is not one of the -puffins gesticulating wildly? - -"Round with her, John!" the Doctor calls out. "They want us--I'm sure." - -And away the gig goes again--plunging into the great troughs and then -swinging up to the giddy crests. And as we get nearer and nearer, what -is the meaning of the Laird's frantic gestures? We cannot understand -him; and it is impossible to hear, for the booming of the sea into the -caves drowns his voice. - -"He has lost his hat," says Angus Sutherland; and then, the next second, -"Where's the easel?" - -Then we understand those wild gestures. Pull away, merry men! for has -not a squall swept the studio of its movables? And there, sure enough, -tossing high and low on the waves, we descry a variety of things--an -easel, two canvases, a hat, a veil, and what not. Up with the boat-hook -to the bow; and gently with those plunges, you eager Hector of Moidart! - -"I am so sorry," she says (or rather shrieks), when her dripping -property is restored to her. - -"It was my fault," our Doctor yells; "but I will undertake to fasten -your easel properly this time"--and therewith he fetches a lump of rock -that might have moored a man-of-war. - -We stay and have luncheon in this gusty and thunderous studio--though -Mary Avon will scarcely turn from her canvas. And there is no painting -of pink geraniums about this young woman's work. We see already that -she has got a thorough grip of this cold, hard coast (the sun is -obscured now, and the various hues are more sombre than ever); and, -though she has not had time as yet to try to catch the motion of the -rolling sea, she has got the colour of it--a leaden-grey, with glints of -blue and white, and with here and there a sudden splash of deep, rich, -glassy, bottle green, where some wave for a moment catches, just as it -gets to the shore, a reflection from the grass plateaus above. Very -good, Miss Avon; very good--but we pretend that we are not looking. - -Then away we go again, to leave the artist to her work; and we go as -near as possible--the high sea will not allow us to enter--the vast -black caverns; and we watch through the clear water for those masses of -yellow rock. And then the multitudes of white-breasted, red-billed birds -perched up there--close to the small burrows in the scant grass; they -jerk their heads about in a watchful way just like the prairie-dogs at -the mouth of their sandy habitations on the Colorado plains. And then -again a hundred or two of them come swooping down from the rocky -pinnacles and sail over our heads--twinkling bits of colour between the -grey-green sea and the blue-and-white of the sky. They resent the -presence of strangers in this far-home of the sea-birds. - -It is a terrible business getting that young lady and her paraphernalia -back into the gig again; for the sea is still heavy, and, of course, -additional care has now to be taken of the precious canvas. But at last -she, and the Laird, and the luncheon-basket, and everything else have -been got on board; and away we go for the yacht again, in the now -clearing afternoon. As we draw further away from the roar of the caves, -it is more feasible to talk; and naturally we are all very complimentary -about Mary Avon's sketch in oils. - -"Ay," says the Laird, "and it wants but one thing; and I am sure I could -get Tom Galbraith to put that in for you. A bit of a yacht, ye know, or -other sailing vessel, put below the cliffs, would give people a notion -of the height of the cliffs, do ye see? I am sure I could get Tom -Galbraith to put that in for ye." - -"I hope Miss Avon won't let Tom Galbraith or anybody else meddle with -the picture." says Angus Sutherland, with some emphasis. "Why, a yacht! -Do you think anybody would let a yacht come close to rocks like these! -As soon as you introduce any making-up like that, the picture is a sham. -It is the real thing now, as it stands. Twenty years hence you could -take up that piece of canvas, and there before you would be the very day -that you spent here--it would be like finding your old life of twenty -years before opened up to you with a lightning-flash. The picture -is--why I should say it is invaluable, as it stands." - -At this somewhat fierce praise, Mary Avon colours a little. And then -she says with a gentle hypocrisy-- - -"Oh, do you really think there is--there is--some likeness to the -place?" - -"It is the place itself!" says he warmly. - -"Because," she says, timidly, and yet with a smile, "one likes to have -one's work appreciated, however stupid it may be. And--and--if you -think that--would you like to have it? Because I should be so proud if -you would take it--only I am ashamed to offer my sketches to -anybody----" - -"That!" said he, staring at the canvas as if the mines of Golconda were -suddenly opened to him. But then he drew back. "Oh, no," he said; "you -are very kind--but--but, you know, I cannot. You would think I had been -asking for it." - -"Well," says Miss Avon, still looking down, "I never was treated like -this before. You won't take it? You don't think it is worth putting in -your portmanteau?" - -At this the young Doctor's face grew very red; but he said boldly-- - -"Very well, now, if you have been playing fast and loose, you shall be -punished. I _will_ take the picture, whether you grudge it me or not. -And I don't mean to give it up now." - -"Oh," said she, very gently, "if it reminds you of the place, I shall be -very pleased--and--and it may remind you too that I am not likely to -forget your kindness to poor Mrs. Thompson." - -And so this little matter was amicably settled--though the Laird looked -with a covetous eye on that rough sketch of the rocks of Canna, and -regretted that he was not to be allowed to ask Tom Galbraith to put in a -touch or two. And so back to the yacht, and to dinner in the silver -clear evening; and how beautiful looked this calm bay of Canna, with its -glittering waters and green shores, after the grim rocks and the heavy -Atlantic waves! - -That evening we pursued the innocent lithe again--our larder was -becoming terribly empty--and there was a fine take. But of more -interest to some of us than the big fish was the extraordinary wonder of -colour in sea and sky when the sun had gone down; and there was a wail -on the part of the Laird that Mary Avon had not her colours with her to -put down some jotting for further use. Or if on paper: might not she -write down something of what she saw; and experiment thereafter? Well, -if any artist can make head or tail of words in such a case as this, -here they are for him--as near as our combined forces of observation -could go. - -The vast plain of water around us a blaze of salmon-red--with the waves -(catching the reflection of the zenith) marked in horizontal lines of -blue. The great headland of Canna, between us and the western sky, a -mass of dark, intense olive-green. The sky over that a pale, clear -lemon-yellow. But the great feature of this evening scene was a mass of -cloud that stretched all across the heavens--a mass of flaming, -thunderous, orange-red cloud that began in the far pale mists in the -east, and came across the blue zenith overhead, burning with a splendid -glory there, and then stretched over to the west, where it narrowed down -and was lost in the calm, clear gold of the horizon. The splendour of -this great cloud was bewildering to the eyes; one turned gratefully to -the reflection of it in the sultry red of the sea below, broken by the -blue lines of waves. Our attention was not wholly given to the fishing -or the boat on this lambent evening; perhaps that was the reason we ran -on a rock, and with difficulty got off again. - -Then back to the yacht again about eleven o'clock. What is this -terrible news from Master Fred, who was sent off with instructions to -hunt up any stray crofter he might find, and use such persuasions in the -shape of Gaelic friendliness and English money as would enable us to -replenish our larder? What! that he had walked two miles and seen -nothing eatable or purchasable but an old hen? Canna is a beautiful -place; but we begin to think it is time to be off. - -On this still night, with the stars coming out, we cannot go below. We -sit on deck and listen to the musical whisper along the shore, and watch -one golden-yellow planet rising over the dusky peaks of Rum, far in the -east. And our young Doctor is talking of the pathetic notices that are -common in the Scotch papers--in the advertisements of deaths. "_New -Zealand papers, please copy._" "_Canadian papers, please copy._" When -you see this prayer appended to the announcement of the death of some -old woman of seventy or seventy-five, do you not know that it is a -message to loved ones in distant climes, wanderers who may forget but -who have not been forgotten? They are messages that tell of a scattered -race--of a race that once filled the glens of these now almost deserted -islands. And surely, when some birthday or other time of recollection -comes round, those far away, - -_Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe,_ - -must surely bethink themselves of the old people left behind--living in -Glasgow or Greenock now, perhaps--and must bethink themselves too of the -land where last they saw the bonny red heather, and where last they -heard the pipes playing the sad _Farewell, MacCruimin_ as the ship stood -out to sea. They cannot quite forget the scenes of their youth--the -rough seas and the red heather and the islands; the wild dancing at the -weddings; the secret meetings in the glen, with Ailasa, or Morag, or -Mairi, come down from the sheiling, all alone, a shawl round her head to -shelter her from the rain, her heart fluttering like the heart of a -timid fawn. They cannot forget. - -And we, too, we are going away; and it may be that we shall never see -this beautiful bay or the island there again. But one of us carries -away with him a talisman for the sudden revival of old memories. And -twenty years hence--that was his own phrase--what will Angus -Sutherland--perhaps a very great and rich person by that time--what will -he think when he turns to a certain picture, and recalls the long summer -day when he rowed with Mary Avon round the wild shores of Canna? - - - - - *CHAPTER X.* - - *"DUNVEGAN!--OH! DUNVEGAN!"* - - -Commander Mary Avon sends her orders below: everything to be made snug -in the cabins, for there is a heavy sea running outside, and the _White -Dove_ is already under way. Farewell, then, you beautiful blue bay--all -rippled into silver now with the breeze--and green shores and -picturesque cliffs! We should have lingered here another day or two, -perhaps, but for the report about that one old hen. We cannot ration -passengers and crew on one old hen. - -And here, as we draw away from Canna, is the vast panorama of the -sea-world around us once more--the mighty mountain range of Skye shining -faintly in the northern skies; Haleval and Haskeval still of a gloomy -purple in the east; and away beyond these leagues of rushing Atlantic -the clear blue line of North Uist. Whither are we bound, then, you -small captain with the pale face and the big, soft, tender black eyes? -Do you fear a shower of spray that you have strapped that -tightly-fitting ulster round the graceful small figure? And are you -quite sure that you know whether the wind is on the port or starboard -beam? - -"Look! look! look!" she calls, and our F.R.S., who has been busy over -the charts, jumps to his feet. - -Just at the bow of the vessel we see the great shining black thing -disappear. What if there had been a collision? - -"You cannot call _that_ a porpoise, any way," says she. "Why, it must -have been eighty feet long!" - -"Yes, yacht measurement," says he. "But it had a back fin, which is -suspicious, and it did not blow. Now," he adds--for we have been -looking all round for the re-appearance of the huge stranger--"if you -want to see real whales at work, just look over there, close under Rum. -I should say there was a whole shoal of them in the Sound." - -And there, sure enough, we see from time to time the white -spoutings--rising high into the air in the form of the letter V, and -slowly falling again. They are too far away for us to hear the sound of -their blowing, nor can we catch any glimpse, through the best of our -glasses, of their appearance at the surface. Moreover, the solitary -stranger that nearly ran against our bows makes no reappearance; he has -had enough of the wonders of the upper world for a time. - -It is a fine sailing morning, and we pay but little attention to the -fact that the wind, as usual, soon gets to be dead ahead. So long as -the breeze blows, and the sun shines, and the white spray flies from the -bows of the _White Dove_, what care we which harbour is to shelter us -for the night? And if we cannot get into any harbour, what then? We -carry our own kingdom with us; and we are far from being dependent on -the one old hen. - -But in the midst of much laughing at one of the Laird's good ones--the -inexhaustible Homesh was again to the fore--a head appears at the top of -the companion-way; and there is a respectful silence. Unseemly mirth -dies away before the awful dignity of this person. - -"Angus," she says, with a serious remonstrance on her face, "do you -believe what scientific people tell you?" - -Angus Sutherland starts, and looks up; he has been deep in a chart of -Loch Bracadaile. - -"Don't they say that water finds its own level? Now do you call this -water finding its own level?"--and as she propounds this conundrum, she -clings on tightly to the side of the companion, for, in truth, the -_White Dove_ is curveting a good deal among those great masses of waves. - -"Another tumbler broken!" she exclaims. "Now who left that tumbler on -the table?" - -"I know," says Mary Avon. - -"Who was it then?" says the occupant of the companion-way; and we begin -to tremble for the culprit. - -"Why, you yourself!" - -"Mary Avon, how can you tell such a story!" says the other, with a stern -face. - -"Oh, but that is so," calls out our Doctor, "for I myself saw you bring -the tumbler out of the ladies' cabin with water for the flowers." - -The universal shout of laughter that overwhelms Madame Dignity is too -much for her. A certain conscious, lurking smile begins to break through -the sternness of her face. - -"I don't believe a word of it," she declares, firing a shot as she -retreats. "Not a word of it. You are two conspirators. To tell such a -story about a tumbler---!" - -But at this moment a further assault is made on the majesty of this -imperious small personage. There is a thunder at the bows; a rattling -as of pistol-shots on the decks forward; and at the same moment the -fag-ends of the spray come flying over the after part of the yacht. -What becomes of one's dignity when one gets a shower of salt water over -one's head and neck? Go down below, madam!--retreat, retreat, -discomfited!--go, dry your face and your bonny brown hair--and bother us -no more with your broken tumbler! - -And despite those plunging seas and the occasional showers of spray, -Mary Avon still clings bravely to the rope that is round the tiller; and -as we are bearing over for Skye on one long tack, she has no need to -change her position. And if from time to time her face gets wet with -the salt water, is it not quickly dried again in the warm sun and the -breeze? Sun and salt water and sea-air will soon chase away the pallor -from that gentle face: cannot one observe already--after only a few -days' sailing--a touch of sun-brown on her cheeks? - -And now we are drawing nearer and nearer to Skye, and before us lies the -lonely Loch Breatal, just under the splendid Coolins. See how the vast -slopes of the mountains appear to come sheer down to the lake; and there -is a soft, sunny green on them--a beautiful, tender, warm colour that -befits a summer day. But far above and beyond those sunny slopes a -different sight appears. All the clouds of this fair day have gathered -round the upper portions of the mountains; and that solitary range of -black and jagged peaks is dark in shadow, dark as if with the -expectation of thunder. The Coolins are not beloved of mariners. Those -beautiful sunlit ravines are the secret haunts of hurricanes that -suddenly come out to strike the unwary yachtsman as with the blow of a -hammer. _Stand by, forward, then, lads! About ship! Down with the -helm, Captain Avon!_--and behold! we are sailing away from the black -Coolins, and ahead of us there is only the open sea, and the sunlight -shining on the far cliffs of Canna. - -"When your course is due north," remarks Angus Sutherland, who has -relieved Mary Avon at the helm, "and when the wind is due north, you get -a good deal of sailing for your money." - -The profound truth of this remark becomes more and more apparent as the -day passes in a series of long tacks which do not seem to be bringing -those far headlands of Skye much nearer to us. And if we are beating in -this heavy sea all day and night, is there not a chance of one or other -of our women-folk collapsing? They are excellent sailors, to be -sure--but--but-- - -Dr. Sutherland is consulted. Dr. Sutherland's advice is prompt and -emphatic. His sole and only precaution against sea-sickness is simple: -resolute eating and drinking. Cure for sea-sickness, after it has set -in, he declares there is none: to prevent it, eat and drink, and let the -drink be _brut_ champagne. So our two prisoners are ordered below to -undergo that punishment. - -And, perhaps, it is the _brut_ champagne, or perhaps it is merely the -snugness of our little luncheon-party that prompts Miss Avon to remark -on the exceeding selfishness of yachting and to suggest a proposal that -fairly takes away our breath by its audacity. - -"Now," she says, cheerfully, "I could tell you how you could occupy an -idle day on board a yacht so that you would give a great deal of -happiness--quite a shock of delight--to a large number of people." - -Well, we are all attention. - -"At what cost?" says the financier of our party. - -"At no cost." - -This is still more promising. Why should not we instantly set about -making all those people happy? - -"All that you have got to do is to get a copy of the _Field_ or of the -_Times_ or some such paper." - -Yes; and how are we to get any such thing? Rum has no post-office. No -mail calls at Canna. Newspapers do not grow on the rocks of Loch -Bracadaile. - -"However, let us suppose that we have the paper." - -"Very well. All you have to do is to sit down and take the -advertisements, and write to the people, accepting all their offers on -their own terms. The man who wants 500*l.* for his shooting in the -autumn; the man who will sell his steam-yacht for 7,000*l,*; the curate -who will take in another youth to board at 200*l.* a year; the lady who -wants to let her country-house during the London season; all the people -who are anxious to sell things. You offer to take them all. If a man -has a yacht to let on hire, you will pay for new jerseys for the men. -If a man has a house to be let, you will take all the fixtures at his -own valuation. All you have to do is to write two or three hundred -letters--as an anonymous person, of course--and you make two or three -hundred people quite delighted for perhaps a whole week!" - -The Laird stared at this young lady as if she had gone mad; but there -was only a look of complacent friendliness on Mary Avon's face. - -"You mean that you write sham letters?" says her hostess. "You gull -those unfortunate people into believing that all their wishes are -realised?" - -"But you make them happy!" says Mary Avon, confidently. - -"Yes--and the disappointment afterwards!" retorts her friend, almost -with indignation. "Imagine their disappointment when they find they have -been duped! Of course they would write letters and discover that the -anonymous person had no existence." - -"Oh, no!" says Mary Avon, eagerly. "There could be no such great -disappointment. The happiness would be definite and real for the time. -The disappointment would only be a slow and gradual thing when they -found no answer coming to their letter. You would make them happy for a -whole week or so by accepting their offer; whereas by not answering -their letter or letters you would only puzzle them, and the matter would -drop away into forgetfulness. Do you not think it would be an excellent -scheme?" - -Come on deck, you people; this girl has got demented. And behold! as we -emerge once more into the sunlight and whirling spray and wind, we find -that we are nearing Skye again on the port tack, and now it is the mouth -of Loch Bracadaile that we are approaching. And these pillars of rock, -outstanding from the cliffs, and worn by the northern seas? - -"Why, these must be Macleod's Maidens!" says Angus Sutherland, unrolling -one of the charts. - -And then he discourses to us of the curious fancies of sailors--passing -the lonely coasts from year to year--and recognising as old friends, not -any living thing, but the strange conformations of the rocks--and giving -to these the names of persons and of animals. And he thinks there is -something more weird and striking about these solitary and sea-worn -rocks fronting the great Atlantic than about any comparatively modern -Sphinx or Pyramid; until we regard the sunlit pillars, and their fretted -surface and their sharp shadows, with a sort of morbid imagination; and -we discover how the sailors have fancied them to be stone women; and we -see in the largest of them--her head and shoulder tilted over a -bit--some resemblance to the position of the Venus discovered at Milo. -All this is very fine; but suddenly the sea gets darkened over there; a -squall comes roaring out of Loch Bracadaile; John of Skye orders the -boat about; and presently we are running free before this puff from the -north-east. Alas! alas! we have no sooner got out of the reach of the -squall than the wind backs to the familiar north, and our laborious -beating has to be continued as before. - -But we are not discontented. Is it not enough, as the golden and -glowing afternoon wears on, to listen to the innocent prattle of -Denny-mains, whose mind has been fired by the sight of those pillars of -rock. He tells us a great many remarkable things--about the similarity -between Gaelic and Irish, and between Welsh and Armorican; and he -discusses the use of the Druidical stones, as to whether the priests -followed serpent-worship or devoted those circles to human sacrifice. He -tells us about the Picts and Scots; about Fingal and Ossian; about the -doings of Arthur in his kingdom of Strathclyde. It is a most innocent -sort of prattle. - -"Yes, sir," says our Doctor--quite gravely--though we are not quite sure -that he is not making fun of our simple-hearted Laird, "there can be no -doubt that the Aryan race that first swept over Europe spoke a Celtic -language, more or less akin to Gaelic, and that they were pushed out, by -successive waves of population, into Brittany, and Wales, and Ireland, -and the Highlands. And I often wonder whether it was they themselves -that modestly call themselves the foreigners or strangers, and affixed -that name to the land they laid hold of, from Galicia and Gaul to -Galloway and Galway? The Gaelic word _gall_, a stranger, you find -everywhere. Fingal himself is only _Fionn-gall_--the Fair Stranger; -_Dubh-gall_--that is, the familiar Dugald--or the Black Stranger--is -what the Islay people call a Lowlander. _Ru-na-Gaul_, that we passed the -other day--that is the Foreigner's Point. I think there can be no doubt -that the tribes that first brought Aryan civilisation through the west -of Europe spoke Gaelic or something like Gaelic." - -"Ay," said the Laird, doubtfully. He was not sure of this young man. -He had heard something about Gaelic being spoken in the Garden of Eden, -and suspected there might be a joke lying about somewhere. - -However, there was no joking about our F.R.S. when he began to tell Mary -Avon how, if he had time and sufficient interest in such things, he -would set to work to study the Basque people and their language--that -strange remnant of the old race who inhabited the west of Europe long -before Scot, or Briton, or Roman, or Teuton had made his appearance on -the scene. Might they not have traditions, or customs, or verbal -survivals to tell us of their pre-historic forefathers? The Laird -seemed quite shocked to hear that his favourite Picts and Scots--and -Fingal and Arthur and all the rest of them--were mere modern -interlopers. What of the mysterious race that occupied these islands -before the great Aryan tide swept over from the East? - -Well, this was bad enough; but when the Doctor proceeded to declare his -conviction that no one had the least foundation for the various -conjectures about the purposes of those so-called Druidical stones--that -it was all a matter of guess-work whether as regarded council-halls, -grave-stones, altars, or serpent-worship--and that it was quite possible -these stones were erected by the non-Aryan race who inhabited Europe -before either Gaul or Roman or Teuton came west, the Laird interrupted -him, triumphantly-- - -"But," says he, "the very names of those stones show they are of Celtic -origin--will ye dispute that? What is the meaning of _Carnac_, that is -in Brittany--eh? Ye know Gaelic?" - -"Well, I know that much," said Angus, laughing. "Carnac means simply -the place of piled stones. But the Celts may have found the stones -there, and given them that name." - -"I think," says Miss Avon, profoundly, "that when you go into a question -of names, you can prove anything. And I suppose Gaelic is as -accommodating as any other language." - -Angus Sutherland did not answer for a moment; but at last he said, -rather shyly-- - -"Gaelic is a very complimentary language, at all events. Beau is 'a -woman;' and bean-nachd is 'a blessing.' _An ti a bheannaich thu_--that -is, 'the one who blessed you.'" - -Very pretty; only we did not know how wildly the young man might not be -falsifying Gaelic grammar in order to say something nice to Mary Avon. - -Patience works wonders. Dinner-time finds us so far across the Minch -that we can make out the lighthouse of South Uist. And all these outer -Hebrides are now lying in a flood of golden-red light; and on the cliffs -of Canna, far away in the south-east, and now dwarfed so that they lie -like a low wall on the sea, there is a paler red, caught from the glare -of the sunset. And here is the silver tinkle of Master Fred's bell. - -On deck after dinner; and the night air is cooler now; and there are -cigars about; and our young F.R.S. is at the tiller; and Mary Avon is -singing, apparently to herself, something about a Berkshire farmer's -daughter. The darkness deepens, and the stars come out; and there is one -star--larger than the rest, and low down, and burning a steady red--that -we know to be Ushinish lighthouse. And then from time to time the -silence is broken by, "_Stand by, forrard! 'Bout ship!_" and there is a -rattling of blocks and cordage and then the head-sails fill and away she -goes again on the other tack. We have got up to the long headlands of -Skye at last. - -Clear as the night is, the wind still comes in squalls, and we have the -topsail down. Into which indentation of that long, low line of dark -land shall we creep in the darkness? - -But John of Skye keeps away from the land. It is past midnight. There -is nothing visible but the black sea and the clear sky, and the red star -of the lighthouse; nothing audible but Mary Avon's humming to herself -and her friend--the two women sit arm-in-arm under half-a-dozen of -rugs--some old-world ballad to the monotonous accompaniment of the -passing seas. - -One o'clock: Ushinish light is smaller now, a minute point of red fire, -and the black line of land on our right looms larger in the dusk. Look -at the splendour of the phosphorous-stars on the rushing waves. - -And at last John of Skye says in an undertone to Angus-- - -"Will the leddies be going below now?" - -"Going below!" he says in reply. "They are waiting till we get to -anchor. We must be just off Dunvegan Loch now." - -Then John of Skye makes his confession. - -"Oh, yes; I been into Dunvegan Loch more as two or three times; but I -not like the dark to be with us in going in; and if we lie off till the -daylight comes, the leddies they can go below to their peds. And if Dr. -Sutherland himself would like to see the channel in going in, will I -send below when the daylight comes?" - -"No, no, John; thank you," is the answer. "When I turn in, I turn in for -good. I will leave you to find out the channel for yourself." - -And so there is a clearance of the deck, and rugs and camp-stools handed -down the companion. _Deoch-an-doruis_ in the candle-lit saloon? To -bed--to bed! - -It is about five o'clock in the morning that the swinging out of the -anchor-chain causes the yacht to tremble from stem to stern; and the -sleepers start in their sleep, but are vaguely aware that they are at a -safe anchorage at last. And do you know where the brave _White Dove_ is -lying now? Surely if the new dawn brings any stirring of wind--and if -there is a sound coming over to us from this far land of legend and -romance--it is the wild, sad wail of Dunvegan! The mists are clearing -from the hills; the day breaks wan and fair; the great grey castle, -touched by the early sunlight, looks down on the murmuring sea. And is -it the sea, or is it the cold wind of the morning, that sings and sings -to us in our dreams-- - -_Dunvegan--oh! Dunvegan!_ - - - - - *CHAPTER XI.* - - *DRAWING NEARER.* - - -She is all alone on deck. The morning sun shines on the beautiful blue -bay; on the great castle perched on the rocks over there; and on the -wooded green hills beyond. She has got a canvas fixed on her easel; she -sings to herself as she works. - -Now this English young lady must have beguiled the tedium of her long -nursing in Edinburgh by making a particular acquaintance with Scotch -ballads; or how otherwise could we account for her knowledge of the -"Song of Ulva," and now of the "Song of Dunvegan?" - -_Macleod the faithful, and fearing none!_ - _Dunvegan--oh! Dunvegan!_ - ---she hums to herself as she is busy with this rough sketch of sea and -shore. How can she be aware that Angus Sutherland is at this very -moment in the companion way, and not daring to stir hand or foot lest he -should disturb her? - -_Friends and foes had our passion thwarted,_ - -she croons to herself, though, indeed, there is no despair at all in her -voice, but a perfect contentment-- - -_But true, tender, and lion-hearted,_ -_Lived he on, and from life departed,_ - _Macleod, whose rival is breathing none!_ - _Dunvegan--oh, Dunvegan!_ - -She is pleased with the rapidity of her work. She tries to whistle a -little bit. Or, perhaps it is only the fresh morning air that has put -her in such good spirits? - -_Yestreen the Queen had four Maries._ - -What has that got to do with the sketch of the shining grey castle? -Among these tags and ends of ballads, the young Doctor at last becomes -emboldened to put in an appearance. - -"Good morning, Miss Avon," says he; "you are busy at work again?" - -She is not in the least surprised. She has got accustomed to his coming -on deck before the others; they have had a good deal of quiet chatting -while as yet the Laird was only adjusting his high white collar and -satin neckcloth. - -"It is only a sketch," said she, in a rapid and highly business-like -fashion, "but I think I shall be able to sell it. You know most people -merely value pictures for their association with things they are -interested in themselves. A Yorkshire farmer would rather have a -picture of his favourite cob than any Raphael or Titian. And the -ordinary English squire: I am sure that you know in his own heart he -prefers one of Herring's farm yard pieces to Leonardo's _Last Supper_. -Well, if some yachting gentleman, who has been in this loch, should see -this sketch, he will probably buy it, however bad it is, just because it -interests him----" - -"But you don't really mean to sell it?" said he. - -"That depends," said she demurely, "on whether I get any offer for it." - -"Why," he exclaimed, "the series of pictures you are now making should -be an invaluable treasure to you all your life long: a permanent record -of a voyage that you seem to enjoy very much. I almost shrink from -robbing you of that one of Canna; still, the temptation is too great. -And you propose to sell them all?" - -"What I can sell of them," she says; and then she adds, rather shyly, -"You know I could not very well afford to keep them all for myself. -I--I have a good many almoners in London; and I devote to them what I -can get for my scrawls--that is, I deduct the cost of the frames, and -keep the rest for them. It is not a large sum." - -"Any other woman would spend it in jewellery and dresses," says he -bluntly. - -At this, Miss Mary Avon flushes slightly, and hastily draws his -attention to a small boat that is approaching. Dr. Sutherland does not -pay any heed to the boat. - -He is silent for a second or so; and then he says, with an effort to -talk in a cheerful and matter-of-fact way-- - -"You have not sent ashore yet this morning: don't you know there is a -post-office at Dunvegan?" - -"Oh, yes; I heard so. But the men are below at breakfast, I think, and -I am in no hurry to send, for there won't be any letters for me, I -know." - -"Oh, indeed," he says, with seeming carelessness, "it must be a long -time since you have heard from your friends." - -"I have not many friends to hear from," she answers, with a light laugh, -"and those I have don't trouble me with many letters. I suppose they -think I am in very good hands at present." - -"Oh, yes--no doubt," says he, and suddenly he begins to talk in warm -terms of the delightfulness of the voyage. He is quite charmed with the -appearance of Dunvegan Loch and castle. A more beautiful morning he -never saw. And in the midst of all this enthusiasm the small boat comes -alongside. - -There is an old man in the boat, and when he has fastened his oars, he -says a few words to Angus Sutherland, and hands up a big black bottle. -Our young Doctor brings the bottle over to Mary Avon. He seems to be -very much pleased with everything this morning. - -"Now, is not that good-natured?" says he. "It is a bottle of fresh milk, -with the compliments of ----, of Uginish. Isn't it good-natured?" - -"Oh, indeed it is," says she, plunging her hand into her pocket. "You -must let me give the messenger half-a-crown." - -"No, no; that is not the Highland custom," says the Doctor; and -therewith he goes below, and fetches up another black bottle, and pours -out a glass of whiskey with his own hand, and presents it to the ancient -boatman. You should have seen the look of surprise in the old man's -face when Angus Sutherland said something to him in the Gaelic. - -And alas! and alas!--as we go ashore on this beautiful bright day, we -have to give up for ever the old Dunvegan of many a dream--the dark and -solitary keep that we had imagined perched high above the Atlantic -breakers--the sheer precipices, the awful sterility, the wail of -lamentation along the lonely shores. This is a different picture -altogether that Mary Avon has been trying to put down on her canvas--a -spacious, almost modern-looking, but nevertheless picturesque castle, -sheltered from the winds by softly wooded hills, a bit of smooth, blue -water below, and further along the shores the cheerful evidences of -fertility and cultivation. The wail of Dunvegan? Why, here is a brisk -and thriving village, with a post-office, and a shop, and a building -that looks uncommonly like an inn; and there, dotted all about, and -encroaching on the upper moorland, any number of those small crofts that -were once the pride of the Highlands and that gave to England the most -stalwart of her regiments. Here are no ruined huts and voiceless -wastes; but a cheerful, busy picture of peasant-life; the strapping -wenches at work in the small farm-yards, well-built and frank of face; -the men well clad; the children well fed and merry enough. It is a -scene that delights the heart of our good friend of Denny-mains. If we -had but time, he would fain go in among the tiny farms, and inquire -about the rent of the holdings, and the price paid for those picturesque -little beasts that the artists are for ever painting--with a louring sky -beyond, and a dash of sunlight in front. But our Doctor is obdurate. -He will not have Mary Avon walk further; she must return to the yacht. - -But on our way back, as she is walking by the side of the road, he -suddenly puts his hand on her arm, apparently to stop her. Slight as the -touch is, she naturally looks surprised. - -"I beg your pardon," he says, hastily, "but I thought you would rather -not tread on it----" - -He is regarding a weed by the wayside--a thing that looks like a -snapdragon of some sort. We did not expect to find a hard-headed man of -science betray this trumpery sentiment about a weed. - -"I thought you would rather not tread upon it when you knew it was a -stranger," he says, in explanation of that rude assault upon her arm. -"That is not an English plant at all; it is the _Mimulus_, its real home -is in America." - -We began to look with more interest on the audacious small foreigner -that had boldly adventured across the seas. - -"Oh," she says, looking back along the road, "I hope I have not trampled -any of them down." - -"Well, it does not _much_ matter," he admits, "for the plant is becoming -quite common now in parts of the West Highlands; but I thought as it was -a stranger, and come all the way across the Atlantic on a voyage of -discovery, you would be hospitable. I suppose the Gulf-stream brought -the first of them over." - -"And if they had any choice in the matter," says Mary Avon, looking -down, and speaking with a little self-conscious deliberation, "and if -they wanted to be hospitably received, they showed their good sense in -coming to the West Highlands." - -After that there was a dead silence on the part of Angus Sutherland. -But why should he have been embarrassed? There was no compliment -levelled at him that he should blush like a schoolboy. It was quite -true that Miss Avon's liking--even love--for the West Highlands was -becoming very apparent; but Banffshire is not in the West Highlands. -What although Angus Sutherland could speak a few words in the Gaelic -tongue to an old boatman? He came from Banff. Banffshire is not in the -West Highlands. - -Then that afternoon at the great castle itself: what have we but a -confused recollection of twelfth-century towers; and walls nine feet -thick; and ghost-chambers; and a certain fairy-flag, that is called the -_Bratach-Sith_; and the wide view over the blue Atlantic; and of a great -kindness that made itself visible in the way of hothouse flowers and -baskets of fruit, and what not? The portraits, too: the various -centuries got mixed up with the old legends, until we did not know in -which face to look for some transmitted expression that might tell of -the Cave of Uig or the Uamh-na-Ceann. But there was one portrait there, -quite modern, and beautiful, that set all the tourist-folk a raving, so -lovely were the life-like eyes of it; and the Laird was bold enough to -say to the gentle lady who was so good as to be our guide, that it would -be one of the greatest happinesses of his life if he might be allowed to -ask Mr. Galbraith, the well-known artist of Edinburgh, to select a young -painter to come up to Dunvegan and make a copy of this picture for him, -Denny-mains. And Dr. Sutherland could scarcely come away from that -beautiful face; and our good Queen T. was quite charmed with it; and as -for Mary Avon, when one of us regarded her, behold! as she looked up, -there was a sort of moisture in the soft black eyes. - -What was she thinking of? That it must be a fine thing to be so -beautiful a woman, and charm the eyes of all men? But now--now that we -had had this singing-bird with us on board the yacht for so long a -time--would any one of us have admitted that she was rather plain? It -would not have gone well with any one who had ventured to say so to the -Laird of Denny-mains, at all events. And as for our sovereign-lady and -mistress, these were the lines which she always said described Mary -Avon:-- - - Was never seen thing to be praised derre,[#] - Nor under blacke cloud so bright a sterre, - As she was, as they saiden, every one - That her behelden in her blacke weed; - And yet she stood, full low and still, alone, - Behind all other folk, in little brede,[#] - And nigh the door, ay under shame's drede; - Simple of bearing, debonair of cheer, - With a full sure[#] looking and mannere. - -[#] _derre_, dearer. - -[#] _in little brede_, without display. - -[#] _sure_, frank. - - -How smart the saloon of the _White Dove_ looked that evening at dinner, -with those geraniums, and roses, and fuchsias, and what not, set amid -the tender green of the maidenhair fern! But all the same there was a -serious discussion. Fruit, flowers, vegetables, and fresh milk, however -welcome, fill no larder; and Master Fred had returned with the doleful -tale that all his endeavours to purchase a sheep at one of the -neighbouring farms had been of no avail. Forthwith we resolve to make -another effort. Far away, on the outer shores of Dunvegan Loch, we can -faintly descry, in the glow of the evening, some crofter's huts on the -slopes of the hill. Down with the gig, then, boys; in with the -fishing-rods; and away for the distant shores, where haply, some tender -ewe-lamb, or brace of quacking duck, or some half-dozen half-starved -fowls may be withdrawn from the reluctant tiller of the earth! - -It is a beautiful clear evening, with lemon-gold glory in the -north-west. And our stout-sinewed Doctor is rowing stroke, and there is -a monotonous refrain of - - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together,_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - - -"We must give you a wage as one of the hands, Angus," says Queen T. - -"I am paid already," says he. "I would work my passage through for the -sketch of Canna that Miss Avon gave me." - -"Would you like to ask the other men whether they would take the same -payment?" says Miss Avon, in modest depreciation of her powers. - -"Do not say anything against the landscape ye gave to Dr. Sutherland," -observes the Laird. "No, no; there is great merit in it. I have told ye -before I would like to show it to Tom Galbraith before it goes south; I -am sure he would approve of it. Indeed, he is jist such a friend of -mine that I would take the leeberty of asking him to give it a bit touch -here and there--what an experienced artist would see amiss ye know----" - -"Mr. Galbraith may be an experienced artist," says our Doctor friend -with unnecessary asperity, "but he is not going to touch that picture." - -"Ah can tell ye," says the Laird, who is rather hurt by this rejection, -"that the advice of Tom Galbraith has been taken by the greatest artists -in England. He was up in London last year, and was at the studio of one -of the first of the Acadameecians, and that very man was not ashamed to -ask the opeenion of Tom Galbraith. And says Tom to him, 'The face is -very fine, but the right arm is out of drawing.' You would think that -impertinent? The Acadameecian, I can tell you, thought differently. -Says he, 'That has been my own opeenion, but no one would ever tell me -so; and I would have left it as it is had ye no spoken.'" - -"I have no doubt the Academacian who did not know when his picture was -out of drawing was quite right to take the advice of Tom Galbraith," -says our stroke-oar. "But Tom Galbraith is not going to touch Miss -Avon's sketch of Canna----" and here the fierce altercation is stopped, -for stroke-oar puts a fresh spurt on, and we hear another sound-- - -_Soon the freshening breeze will blow._ -_Well show the snowy canvas on her,_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - _A long, strong pull together,_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - - -Well, what was the result of our quest? After we had landed Master Fred, -and sent him up the hills, and gone off fishing for lithe for an hour or -so, we returned to the shore in the gathering dusk. We found our -messenger seated on a rock, contentedly singing a Gaelic song, and -plucking a couple of fowls which was all the provender he had secured. -It was in vain that he tried to cheer us by informing us that the -animals in question had cost only sixpence a-piece. We knew that they -were not much bigger than thrushes. Awful visions of tinned meats began -to rise before us. In gloom we took the steward and the microscopic -fowls on board, and set out for the yacht. - -But the Laird did not lose his spirits. He declared that -self-preservation was the first law of nature, and that, despite the -injunctions of the Wild Birds' Protection Act, he would get out his gun -and shoot the first brood of "flappers" he saw about those lonely lochs. -And he told us such a "good one" about Homesh that we laughed nearly all -the way back to the yacht. Provisions? We were independent of -provisions! With a handful of rice a day we would cross the -Atlantic--we would cross twenty Atlantics--so long as we were to be -regaled and cheered by the "good ones" of our friend of Denny-mains. - -Dr. Sutherland, too, seemed in no wise depressed by the famine in the -land. In the lamp-lit saloon, as we gathered round the table, and cards -and things were brought out, and the Laird began to brew his toddy, the -young Doctor maintained that no one on land could imagine the snugness -of life on board a yacht. And now he had almost forgotten to speak of -leaving us; perhaps it was the posting of the paper on Radiolarians, -along with other MSS., that had set his mind free. But touching that -matter of the Dunvegan post-office: why had he been so particular in -asking Mary Avon if she were not expecting letters; and why did he so -suddenly grow enthusiastic about the scenery on learning that the young -lady, on her travels, was not pestered with correspondence? Miss Avon -was not a Cabinet Minister. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII.* - - *THE OLD SCHOOL AND THE NEW.* - - -The last instructions given to John of Skye that night were large and -liberal. At break of day he was to sail for any port he might chance to -encounter on the wide seas. So long as Angus Sutherland did not speak -of returning, what did it matter to us?--Loch Boisdale, Loch Seaforth, -Stornaway, St. Kilda, the North Pole were all the same. It is true that -of fresh meat we had on board only two fowls about the size of wrens; -but of all varieties of tinned meats and fruit we had an abundant store. -And if perchance we were forced to shoot a sheep on the Flannen Islands, -would not the foul deed be put down to the discredit of those dastardly -Frenchmen? When you rise up as a nation and guillotine all the -respectable folk in the country, it is only to be expected of you -thereafter that you should go about the seas shooting other people's -sheep. - -And indeed when we get on deck after breakfast, we find that John of -Skye has fulfilled his instructions to the letter; that is to say, he -must have started at daybreak to get away so far from Dunvegan and the -headlands of Skye. But as for going farther? There is not a speck of -cloud in the dome of blue; there is not a ripple on the dazzling sea; -there is not a breath of wind to stir the great white sails all aglow in -the sunlight; nor is there even enough of the Atlantic swell to move the -indolent tiller. How John of Skye has managed to bring us so far on so -calm a morning remains a mystery. - -"And the glass shows no signs of falling," says our young Doctor quite -regretfully: does he long for a hurricane, that so he may exhibit his -sailor-like capacities? - -But Mary Avon, with a practical air, is arranging her easel on deck, and -fixing up a canvas, and getting out the tubes she wants--the while she -absently sings to herself something about - - _Beauty lies_ - _In many eyes,_ -_But love in yours, my Nora Creina._ - -And what will she attack now? Those long headlands of Skye, dark in -shadow, with a glow of sunlight along their summits; or those lonely -hills of Uist set far amid the melancholy main; or those vaster and -paler mountains of Harris, that rise on the north of the dreaded Sound? - -"Well, you _have_ courage," says Angus Sutherland, admiringly, "to try -to make a picture out of _that_!" - -"Oh," she says, modestly, though she is obviously pleased, "that is a -pet theory of mine. I try for ordinary every-day effects, without any -theatrical business; and if I had only the power to reach them, I know I -should surprise people. Because you know most people go through the -world with a sort of mist before their eyes; and they are awfully -grateful to you when you suddenly clap a pair of spectacles on their -nose and make them see things as they are. I cannot do it as yet, you -know; but there is no harm in trying." - -"I think you do it remarkably well," he says; "but what are you to make -of that?--nothing but two great sheets of blue, with a line of bluer -hills between?" - -But Miss Avon speedily presents us with the desired pair of spectacles. -Instead of the cloudless blue day we had imagined it to be, we find that -there are low masses of white cloud along the Skye cliffs, and these -throw long reflections on the glassy sea, and moreover we begin to -perceive that the calm vault around us is not an uninterrupted blue, but -melts into a pale green as it nears the eastern horizon. Angus -Sutherland leaves the artist to her work. He will not interrupt her by -idle talk. - -There is no idle talk going forward where the Laird is concerned. He -has got hold of an attentive listener in the person of his hostess, who -is deep in needlework; and he is expounding to her more clearly than -ever the merits of the great Semple case, pointing out more particularly -how the charges in the major proposition are borne out by the extracts -in the minor. Yes; and he has caught the critics, too, on the hip. -What about the discovery of those clever gentlemen that Genesis X. and -10 was incorrect? They thought they were exceedingly smart in proving -that the founders of Babel were the descendants, not of Ham, but of -Shem. But when the ruins of Babel were examined, what then? - -"Why, it was distinctly shown that the founders were the descendants of -Ham, after all!" says Denny-mains, triumphantly. "What do ye think of -that, Dr. Sutherland?" - -Angus Sutherland starts from a reverie: he has not been listening. - -"Of what?" he says. "The Semple case?" - -"Ay." - -"Oh, well," he says, rather carelessly, "all that wrangling is as good -an occupation as any other--to keep people from thinking." - -The Laird stares, as if he had not heard aright. Angus Sutherland is -not aware of having said anything startling. He continues quite -innocently-- - -"Any occupation is valuable enough that diverts the mind--that is why -hard work is conducive to complete mental health; it does not matter -whether it is grouse-shooting, or commanding an army, or wrangling about -major or minor propositions. If a man were continually to be facing the -awful mystery of existence--asking the record of the earth and the stars -how he came to be here, and getting no answer at all--he must inevitably -go mad. The brain could not stand it. If the human race had not busied -itself with wars and commerce, and so forth, it must centuries ago have -committed suicide. That is the value of hard work--to keep people from -thinking of the unknown around them; the more a man is occupied, the -happier he is--it does not matter whether he occupies himself with -School Boards, or salmon-fishing, or the prosecution of a heretic." - -He did not remark the amazed look on the Laird's face, nor yet that Mary -Avon had dropped her painting and was listening. - -"The fact is," he said, with a smile, "if you are likely to fall to -thinking about the real mysteries of existence anywhere, it is among -solitudes like these, where you see what a trivial little accident human -life is in the history of the earth. You can't think about such things -in Regent Street; the cigar-shops, the cabs, the passing people occupy -you. But here you are brought back as it were to all sorts of first -principles; and commonplaces appear somehow in their original freshness. -In Regent Street you no doubt know that life is a strange thing, and -that death is a strange thing, because you have been told so, and you -believe it, and think no more about it. But here--with the seas and -skies round you, and with the silence of the night making you think, you -_feel_ the strangeness of these things. Now just look over there; the -blue sea, and the blue sky, and the hills--it is a curious thing to -think that they will be shining there just as they are now--on just such -another day as this--and you unable to see them or anything else--passed -away like a ghost. And the _White Dove_ will be sailing up here; and -John will be keeping an eye on Ushinish lighthouse; but your eyes won't -be able to see anything----" - -"Well, Angus, I do declare," exclaims our sovereign mistress, "you have -chosen a comforting thing to talk about this morning. Are we to be -always thinking about our coffin?" - -"On the contrary," says the young Doctor; "I was only insisting on the -wholesomeness of people occupying themselves diligently with some -distraction or other, however trivial. And how do you think the Semple -case will end, sir?" - -But our good friend of Denny-mains was far too deeply shocked and -astounded to reply. The great Semple case a trivial thing--a -distraction--an occupation to keep people from serious thinking! The -public duties, too, of the Commissioner for the Burgh of Strathgovan; -were these to be regarded as a mere plaything? The new steam fire-engine -was only a toy, then? The proposed new park and the addition to the -rates were to be regarded as a piece of amiable diversion? - -The Laird knew that Angus Sutherland had not read the _Vestiges of -Creation_, and that was a hopeful sign. But, _Vestiges_ or no -_Vestiges_, what were the young men of the day coming to if their daring -speculations led them to regard the most serious and important concerns -of life as a pastime? The Commissioners for the Burgh of Strathgoven -were but a parcel of children, then, playing on the sea-shore, and -unaware of the awful deeps beyond? - -"I am looking at these things only as a doctor," says Dr. Sutherland, -lightly--seeing that the Laird is too dumbfounded to answer his -question, "and I sometimes think a doctor's history of civilisation -would be an odd thing, if only you could get at the physiological facts -of the case. I should like to know, for example, what Napoleon had for -supper on the night before Waterloo. Something indigestible, you may be -sure; if his brain had been clear on the 15th, he would have smashed the -Allies, and altered modern history. I should have greatly liked, too, -to make the acquaintance of the man who first announced his belief that -infants dying unbaptised were to suffer eternal torture: I think it must -have been his liver. I should like to have examined him." - -"I should like to have poisoned him," says Mary Avon, with a flash of -anger in the soft eyes. - -"Oh, no; the poor wretch was only the victim of some ailment," said our -Doctor, charitably. "There must have been something very much the -matter with Calvin, too. I know I could have cured Schopenhauer of his -pessimism if he had let me put him on a wholesome regimen." - -The Laird probably did not know who Schopenhauer was; but the audacity -of the new school was altogether too much for him. - -"I--I suppose," he said, stammering in his amazement, "ye would have -taken Joan of Arc, and treated her as a lunatic?" - -"Oh, no; not as a confirmed lunatic," he answered, quite simply. "But -the diagnosis of that case is obvious; I think she could have been -cured. All that Joanna Southcote wanted was a frank physician." - -The Laird rose and went forward to where Mary Avon was standing at her -easel. He had had enough. The criticism of landscape painting was more -within his compass. - -"Very good--very good," says he, as if his whole attention had been -occupied by her sketching. "The reflections on the water are just fine. -Ye must let me show all your sketches to Tom Galbraith before ye go back -to the south." - -"I hear you have been talking about the mysteries of existence," she -says, with a smile. - -"Oh, ay, it is easy to talk," he says, sharply--and not willing to -confess that he has been driven away from the field. "I am afraid there -is an unsettling tendency among the young men of the present day--a want -of respect for things that have been established by the common sense of -the world. Not that I am against all innovation. No, no. The world -cannot stand still. I myself, now; do ye know that I was among the -first in Glasgow to hold that it might be permissible to have an organ -to lead the psalmody of a church?" - -"Oh, indeed," says she, with much respect. - -"That is true. No, no; I am not one of the bigoted. Give me the -Essentials, and I do not care if ye put a stone cross on the top of the -church. I tell ye that honestly; I would not object even to a cross on -the building if all was sound within." - -"I am sure you are quite right, sir," says Mary Avon, gently. - -"But no tampering with the Essentials. And as for the millinery, and -incense, and crucifixes of they poor craytures that have not the courage -to go right over to Rome--who stop on this side, and play-act at being -Romans--it is seeckening--perfectly seeckening. As for the Romans -themselves, I do not condemn them. No, no. If they are in error, I -doubt not they believe with a good conscience. And when I am in a -foreign town, and one o' their processions of priests and boys comes by, -I raise my hat. I do indeed." - -"Oh, naturally," says Mary Avon. - -"No, no," continues Denny-mains, warmly, "there is none of the bigot -about me. There is a minister of the Episcopalian Church that I know; -and there is no one more welcome in my house: I ask him to say grace -just as I would a minister of my own Church." - -"And which is that, sir?" she asked meekly. - -The Laird stares at her. Is it possible that she has heard him so -elaborately expound the Semple prosecution, and not be aware to what -denomination he belongs? - -"The Free--the Free Church, of course," he says, with some surprise. -"Have ye not seen the _Report of Proceedings_ in the Semple case?" - -"No, I have not," she answers, timidly. "You have been so kind in -explaining it that--that a printed report was quite unnecessary." - -"But I will get ye one--I will get ye one directly," says he. "I have -several copies in my portmanteau. And ye will see my name in front as -one of the elders who considered it fit and proper that a full report -should be published, so as to warn the public against these inseedious -attacks against our faith. Don't interrupt your work, my lass; but I -will get ye the pamphlet; and whenever you want to sit down for a time, -ye will find it most interesting reading--most interesting." - -And so the worthy Laird goes below to fetch that valued report. And -scarcely has he disappeared than a sudden commotion rages over the deck. -Behold! a breeze coming swiftly over the sea--ruffling the glassy deep -as it approaches! Angus Sutherland jumps to the tiller. The head-sails -fill; and the boat begins to move. The lee-sheets are hauled taut; and -now the great mainsail is filled too. There is a rippling and hissing -of water; and a new stir of life and motion throughout the vessel from -stem to stern. - -It seems but the beginning of the day now, though it is near lunch-time. -Mary Avon puts away her sketch of the dead calm, and sits down just -under the lee of the boom, where the cool breeze is blowing along. The -Laird, having brought up the pamphlet, is vigorously pacing the deck for -his morning exercise; we have all awakened from these idle reveries -about the mystery of life. - -"Ha, ha," he says, coming aft, "this is fine--this is fine now. Why not -give the men a glass of whiskey all round for whistling up such a fine -breeze? Do ye think they would object?" - -"Better give them a couple of bottles of beer for their dinner," -suggests Queen T., who is no lover of whiskey. - -But do you think the Laird is to be put off his story by any such -suggestion? We can see by his face that he has an anecdote to fire off; -is it not apparent that his mention of whiskey was made with a purpose? - -"There was a real good one," says he--and the laughter is already -twinkling in his eyes, "about the man that was apologising before his -family for having been drinking whiskey with some friends. 'Ay,' says -he, 'they just held me and forced it down my throat.' Then says his -son--a little chap about ten--says he, 'I think I could ha' held ye -mysel', feyther'--ho! ho! ho!' says he, 'I think I could ha' held ye -mysel', feyther;'" and the Laird laughed, and laughed again, till the -tears came into his eyes. We could see that he was still internally -laughing at that good one when we went below for luncheon. - -At luncheon, too, the Laird quite made up his feud with Angus -Sutherland, for he had a great many other good ones to tell about -whiskey and whiskey drinking; and he liked a sympathetic audience. But -this general merriment was suddenly dashed by an ominous suggestion -coming from our young Doctor. Why, he asked, should we go on fighting -against these northerly winds? Why not turn and run before them? - -"Then you want to leave us, Angus," said his hostess reproachfully. - -"Oh, no," he said, and with some colour in his face. "I don't want to -go, but I fear I must very soon now. However, I did not make that -suggestion on my own account; if I were pressed for time, I could get -somewhere where I could catch the _Clansman_." - -Mary Avon looked down, saying nothing. - -"You would not leave the ship like that," says his hostess. "You would -not run away, surely? Rather than that we will turn at once. Where are -we now?" - -"If the breeze lasts, we will get over to Uist, to Loch na Maddy, this -evening, but you must not think of altering your plans on my account. I -made the suggestion because of what Captain John was saying." - -"Very well," says our Admiral of the Fleet, taking no heed of properly -constituted authority. "Suppose we set out on our return voyage -to-morrow morning, going round the other side of Skye for a change. But -you know, Angus, it is not fair of you to run away when you say yourself -there is nothing particular calls you to London." - -"Oh," says he, "I am not going to London just yet. I am going to Banff, -to see my father. There is an uncle of mine, too, on a visit to the -manse." - -"Then you will be coming south again?" - -"Yes." - -"Then why not come another cruise with us on your way back?" - -It was not like this hard-headed young Doctor to appear so embarrassed. - -"That is what I should like very much myself," he stammered, "if--if I -were not in the way of your other arrangements." - -"We shall make no other arrangements," says the other definitely. "Now -that is a promise, mind. No drawing back. Mary will put it down in -writing, and hold you to it." - -Mary Avon had not looked up all this time. - -"You should not press Dr. Sutherland too much," she says shyly; "perhaps -he has other friends he would like to see before leaving Scotland." - -The hypocrite! Did she want to make Angus Sutherland burst a -blood-vessel in protesting that of all the excursions he had made in his -life this would be to him for ever the most memorable; and that a -repetition or extension of it was a delight in the future almost too -great to think of? However, she seemed pleased that he spoke so warmly, -and she did not attempt to contradict him. If he had really enjoyed all -this rambling idleness, it would no doubt the better fit him for his -work in the great capital. - -We beat in to Loch na Maddy--that is, the Lake of the Dogs--in the quiet -evening; and the rather commonplace low-lying hills, and the plain -houses of the remote little village, looked beautiful enough under the -glow of the western skies. And we went ashore, and walked inland for a -space, through an intricate network of lagoons inbranching from the sea; -and we saw the trout leaping and making circles on the gold-red pools, -and watched the herons rising from their fishing and winging their slow -flight across the silent lakes. - -And it was a beautiful night, too, and we had a little singing on deck. -Perhaps there was an under-current of regret in the knowledge that -now--for this voyage, at least--we had touched our farthest point. -To-morrow we were to set out again for the south. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII.* - - *FERDINAND AND MIRANDA.* - - -The wind was laughing at Angus Sutherland. All the time we had been -sailing north it had blown from the north; how that we turned our faces -eastward, it wheeled round to the east, as if it would imprison him for -ever in this floating home. - -"_You would fain get away_"--this was the mocking sound that one of us -seemed to hear in those light airs of the morning that blew along the -white canvas--"_the world calls; ambition, fame, the eagerness of -rivalry, the spell that science throws over her disciples, all these are -powerful, and they draw you, and you would fain get away. But the hand -of the wind is uplifted against you; you may fret as you will, but you -are not round Ru Hunish yet!_" - -And perhaps the imaginative small creature who heard these strange -things in the light breeze against which we were fighting our way across -the Minch may have been forming her own plans. Angus Sutherland, she -used often to say, wanted humanising. He was too proud and scornful in -the pride of his knowledge; the gentle hand of a woman was needed to -lead him into more tractable ways. And then this Mary Avon, with her -dexterous, nimble woman's wit, and her indomitable courage, and her life -and spirit, and abounding cheerfulness; would she not be a splendid -companion for him during his long and hard struggle? This born -match-maker had long ago thrown away any notion about the Laird -transferring our singing-bird to Denny-mains. She had almost forgotten -about the project of bringing Howard Smith, the Laird's nephew, and -half-compelling him to marry Mary Avon: that was preposterous on the -face of it. But she had grown accustomed, during those long days of -tranquil idleness, to see our young Doctor and Mary Avon together, cut -off from all the distractions of the world, a new Paul and Virginia. -Why--she may have asked herself--should not these two solitary waifs, -thus thrown by chance together on the wide ocean of existence, why -should they not cling to each other and strengthen each other in the -coming days of trial and storm? The strange, pathetic, phantasmal farce -of life is brief; they cannot seize it and hold it, and shape it to -their own ends; they know not whence it comes, or whither it goes; but -while the brief, strange thing lasts, they can grasp each other's hand, -and make sure--amid all the unknown things around them, the mountains, -and the wide seas, and the stars--of some common, humble, human -sympathy. It is so natural to grasp the hand of another in the presence -of something vast and unknown. - -The rest of us, at all events, have no time for such vague dreams and -reveries. There is no idleness on board the _White Dove_ out here on -the shining deep. Dr. Sutherland has rigged up for himself a sort of -gymnasium by putting a rope across the shrouds to the peak halyards; and -on this rather elastic cross-bar he is taking his morning exercise by -going through a series of performances, no doubt picked up in Germany. -Miss Avon is busy with a sketch of the long headland running out to -Vaternish Point; though, indeed, this smooth Atlantic roll makes it -difficult for her to keep her feet, and introduces a certain amount of -haphazard into her handiwork. The Laird has brought on deck a formidable -portfolio of papers, no doubt relating to the public affairs of -Strathgovan; and has put on his gold spectacles; and has got his pencil -in hand. Master Fred is re-arranging the cabins; the mistress of the -yacht is looking after her flowers. And then is heard the voice of John -of Skye--"_Stand by, boys!_" and "_Bout ship!_" and the helm goes down, -and the jib and foresail flutter and tear at the blocks and sheets, and -then the sails gently fill, and the _White Dove_ is away on another -tack. - -"Well, I give in," says Mary Avon, at last, as a heavier lurch than -usual threatens to throw her and her easel together into the scuppers. -"It _is_ no use." - -"I thought you never gave in, Mary," says our Admiral, whose head has -appeared again at the top of the companion-stairs. - -"I wonder who could paint like this," says Miss Avon, indignantly. And -indeed she is trussed up like a fowl, with one arm round one of the gig -davits. - -"Turner was lashed to the mast of a vessel in order to see a storm," -says Queen T. - -"But not to paint," retorts the other. "Besides, I am not Turner. -Besides, I am tired." - -By this time, of course, Angus Sutherland has come to her help; and -removes her easel and what not for her; and fetches her a deck-chair. - -"Would you like to play chess?" says he. - -"Oh, yes," she answers dutifully, "if you think the pieces will stay on -the board." - -"Draughts will be safer," says he, and therewith he plunges below, and -fetches up the squared board. - -And so, on this beautiful summer day, with the shining seas around them, -and a cool breeze tempering the heat of the sun, Ferdinand and Miranda -set to work. And it was a pretty sight to see them--her soft dark eyes -so full of an anxious care to acquit herself well; his robust, hard, -fresh-coloured face full of a sort of good-natured forbearance. But -nevertheless it was a strange game. All Scotchmen are supposed to play -draughts; and one brought up in a manse is almost of necessity a good -player. But one astonished onlooker began to perceive that, whereas -Mary Avon played but indifferently, her opponent played with a blindness -that was quite remarkable. She had a very pretty, small, white hand; -was he looking at that that he did not, on one occasion, see how he -could have taken three pieces and crowned his man all at one fell swoop? -And then is it considered incumbent on a draught-player to inform his -opponent of what would be a better move on the part of the latter? -However that may be, true it is that, by dint of much advice, opportune -blindness, and atrocious bad play, the Doctor managed to get the game -ended in a draw. - -"Dear me," said Mary Avon, "I never thought I should have had a chance. -The Scotch are such good draught-players." - -"But you play remarkably well," said he--and there was no blush of shame -on his face. - -Draughts and luncheon carry us on to the afternoon; and still the light -breeze holds out; and we get nearer and nearer to the most northerly -points of Skye. And as the evening draws on, we can now make out the -hilly line of Ross-shire--a pale rose-colour in the far east; and nearer -at hand is the Skye coast, with the warm sunlight touching on the ruins -of Duntulme, where Donald Gorm Mor fed his imprisoned nephew on salt -beef, and then lowered to him an empty cup--mocking him before he died; -and then in the west the mountains of Harris, a dark purple against the -clear lemon-golden glow. But as night draws on, behold! the wind dies -away altogether; and we lie becalmed on a lilac-and-silver sea, with -some rocky islands over there grown into a strange intense green in the -clear twilight. - -Down with the gig, then, John of Skye!--and hurry in all our rods, and -lines, and the occult entrapping inventions of our patriarch of -Denny-mains. We have no scruple about leaving the yacht in mid-ocean, -in charge of the steward only. The clear twilight shines in the sky; -there is not a ripple on the sea; only the long Atlantic swell that we -can hear breaking far away on the rocks. And surely such calms are -infrequent in the Minch; and surely these lonely rocks can have been -visited but seldom by passing voyagers? - -Yet the great rollers--as we near the forbidding shores--break with an -ominous thunder on the projecting points and reefs. The Doctor insists -on getting closer and closer--he knows where the big lithe are likely to -be found--and the men, although they keep a watchful eye about them, -obey. And then--it is Mary Avon who first calls out--and behold! her -rod is suddenly dragged down--the point is hauled below the water--agony -and alarm are on her face. - -"Here--take it--take it!" she calls out. "The rod will be broken." - -"Not a bit," the Doctor calls out. "Give him the butt hard! Never mind -the rod! Haul away!" - -And indeed by this time everybody was alternately calling and hauling; -and John of Skye, attending to the rods of the two ladies, had scarcely -time to disengage the big fish, and smooth the flies again; and the -Laird was declaring that these lithe fight as hard as a twenty-pound -salmon. What did we care about those needles and points of black rock -that every two or three seconds showed their teeth through the breaking -white surf? - -"Keep her close in, boys!" Angus Sutherland cried. "We shall have a -fine pickling to-morrow." - -Then one fish, stronger or bigger than his fellows, pulls the rod clean -out of Mary Avon's hands. - -"Well, I have done it this time," she says. - -"Not a bit!" her companion cries. "Up all lines! Back now, -lads--gently!" - -And as the stern of the boat is shoved over the great glassy billows, -behold! a thin dark line occasionally visible--the end of the lost rod! -Then there is a swoop on the part of our Doctor; he has both his hands -on the butt; there elapses a minute or two of fighting between man and -fish; and then we can see below the boat the wan gleam of the captured -animal as it comes to the surface in slow circles. Hurrah! a -seven-pounder! John of Skye chuckles to himself as he grasps the big -lithe. - -"Oh, ay!" he says, "the young leddy knows ferry well when to throw away -the rod. It is a gran' good thing to throw away the rod when there will -be a big fish. Ay, ay, it iss a good fish." - -But the brutes that fought hardest of all were the dog-fish--the snakes -of the sea; and there was a sort of holy Archangelic joy on the face of -John of Skye when he seized a lump of stick to fell these hideous -creatures before flinging them back into the water again. And yet why -should they have been killed on account of their snake-like eyes and -their cruel mouth? The human race did not rise and extirpate Frederick -Smethurst because he was ill-favoured. - -By half-past ten we had secured a good cargo of fish; and then we set -out for the yacht. The clear twilight was still shining above the -Harris hills; but there was a dusky shadow along the Outer Hebrides, -where the orange ray of Scalpa light was shining; and there was dusk in -the south, so that the yacht had become invisible altogether. It was a -long pull back; for the _White Dove_ had been carried far by the ebb -tide. When we found her, she looked like a tall grey ghost in the -gathering darkness; and no light had as yet been put up; but all the -same we had a laughing welcome from Master Fred, who was glad to have -the fresh fish wherewith to supplement our frugal meals. - -Then the next morning--when we got up and looked around--we were in the -same place! And the glass would not fall; and the blue skies kept blue; -and we had to encounter still another day of dreamy idleness. - -"The weather is conspiring against you, Angus," our sovereign lady said, -with a smile. "And you know you cannot run away from the yacht: it would -be so cowardly to take the steamer." - -"Well, indeed," said he, "it is the first time in my life that I have -found absolute idleness enjoyable; and I am not so very anxious it -should end. Somehow, though, I fear we are too well off. When we get -back to the region of letters and telegrams, don't you think we shall -have to pay for all this selfish happiness?" - -"Then why should we go back?" she says lightly. "Why not make a compact -to forsake the world altogether, and live all our life on board the -_White Dove_?" - -Somehow, his eyes wandered to Mary Avon; and he said--rather absently-- - -"I, for one, should like it well enough; if it were only possible." - -"No, no," says the Laird, brusquely, "that will no do at all. It was -never intended that people should go and live for themselves like that. -Ye have your duties to the nation and to the laws that protect ye. When -I left Denny-mains I told my brother Commissioners that what I could do -when I was away to further the business of the Burgh I would do; and I -have entered most minutely into several matters of great importance. -And that is why I am anxious to get to Portree. I expect most important -letters there." - -Portree! Our whereabouts on the chart last night was marked between 45 -and 46 fathoms W.S.W. from some nameless rocks; and here, as far as we -can make out, we are still between these mystical numbers. What can we -do but chat, and read, and play draughts, and twirl round a rope, and -ascend to the cross-trees to look out for a breeze, and watch and listen -to the animal-life around us? - -"I do think," says Mary Avon to her hostess, "the calling of those -divers is the softest and most musical sound I ever heard; perhaps -because it is associated with so many beautiful places. Just fancy, -now, if you were suddenly to hear a diver symphony beginning in an -opera--if all the falsetto recitative and the blare of the trumpets were -to stop--and if you were to hear the violins and flutes beginning, quite -low and soft, a diver symphony, would you not think of the Hebrides, and -the _White Dove_, and the long summer days? In the winter, you know, in -London, I fancy we should go once or twice to see _that_ opera!" - -"I have never been to an opera," remarks the Laird, quite impervious to -Mary Avon's tender enthusiasm. "I am told it is a fantastic -exhibeetion." - -One incident of that day was the appearance of a new monster of the -deep, which approached quite close to the hull of the _White Dove_. -Leaning over the rail we could see him clearly in the clear water--a -beautiful, golden, submarine insect, with a conical body like that of a -land-spider, and six or eight slender legs, by the incurving of which he -slowly propelled himself through the water. As we were perfectly -convinced that no one had ever been in such dead calms in the Minch -before, and had lain for twenty-four hours in the neighbourhood of 45 -and 46, we took it for granted that this was a new animal. In the -temporary absence of our F.R.S., the Laird was bold enough to name it -the _Arachne Mary-Avonensis_; but did not seek to capture it. It went -on its golden way. - -But we were not to linger for ever in these northern seas, surrounded by -perpetual summer calms--however beautiful the prospect might be to a -young man fallen away, for the moment, from his high ambitions. -Whatever summons from the far world might be awaiting us at Portree was -soon to be served upon us. In the afternoon a slight breeze sprung up -that gently carried us away past Ru Hunish, and round by Eilean Trodda, -and down by Altavaig. The grey-green basaltic cliffs of the Skye coast -were now in shadow; but the strong sunlight beat on the grassy ledges -above; and there was a distant roar of water along the rocks. This other -throbbing sound, too: surely that must be some steamer far away on the -other side of Rona? - -The sunset deepened. Darker and darker grew the shadows in the great -mountains above us. We heard the sea along the solitary shores. - -The stars came out in the twilight: they seemed clearest just over the -black mountains. In the silence there was the sound of a waterfall -somewhere--in among those dark cliffs. Then our side-lights were put up; -and we sate on deck; and Mary Avon, nestling close to her friend, was -persuaded to sing for her - -_Yestreen the Queen had four Maries_ - ---just as if she had never heard the song before. The hours went by; -Angus Sutherland was talking in a slow, earnest, desultory fashion; and -surely he must have been conscious that one heart there at least was -eagerly and silently listening to him. The dawn was near at hand when -finally we consented to go below. - -What time of the morning was it that we heard John of Skye call out -"_Six or seven fathoms 'll do?_" We knew at least that we had got into -harbour; and that the first golden glow of the daybreak was streaming -through the skylights of the saloon. We had returned from the wilds to -the claims and the cares of civilisation; if there was any message to -us, for good or for evil, from the distant world we had left for so -long, it was now waiting for us on shore. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV.* - - *EVIL TIDINGS.* - - -We had indeed returned to the world: the first thing we saw on entering -the saloon in the morning was a number of letters--actual letters, that -had come through a post-office--lying on the breakfast-table. We stared -at these strange things. Our good Queen T. was the first to approach -them. She took them up as if she expected they would bite her. - -"Oh, Mary," she says, "there is not one for you--not one." - -Angus Sutherland glanced quickly at the girl. But there was not the -least trace of disappointment on her face. On the contrary, she said, -with a cheerful indifference-- - -"So much the better. They only bother people." - -But of course they had to be opened and read--even the bulky parcel from -Strathgovan. The only bit of intelligence that came from that quarter -was to the effect that Tom Galbraith had been jilted by his lady-love; -but as the rumour, it appeared, was in circulation among the Glasgow -artists, the Laird instantly and indignantly refused to believe it. -Envy is the meanest of the passions; and we knew that the Glasgow -artists could scarcely sleep in their bed at night for thinking of the -great fame of Mr. Galbraith of Edinburgh. However, amid all these -letters one of us stumbled upon one little item that certainly concerned -us. It was a clipping from the advertisement column of a newspaper. It -was inclosed, without word or comment, by a friend in London who knew -that we were slightly acquainted, perforce, with Mr. Frederick -Smethurst. And it appeared that that gentleman, having got into -difficulties with his creditors, had taken himself off, in a -surreptitious and evil manner, insomuch that this newspaper clipping was -nothing more nor less than a hue and cry after the fraudulent bankrupt. -That letter and its startling inclosure were quickly whipped into the -pocket of the lady to whom they had been sent. - -By great good luck Mary Avon was the first to go on deck. She was -anxious to see this new harbour into which we had got. And then, with -considerable dismay on her face, our sovereign mistress showed us this -ugly thing. She was much excited. It was so shameful of him to bring -this disgrace on Mary Avon! What would the poor girl say? And this -gentle lady would not for worlds have her told while she was with -us--until at least we got back to some more definite channel of -information. She was, indeed, greatly distressed. - -But we had to order her to dismiss these idle troubles. We formed -ourselves into a committee on the spot; and this committee unanimously, -if somewhat prematurely, and recklessly, resolved-- - -First, that it was not of the slightest consequence to us or any human -creature where Mr. Frederick Smethurst was, or what he might do with -himself. - -Secondly, that if Mr. Frederick Smethurst were to put a string and a -stone round his neck and betake himself to the bottom of the sea, he -would earn our gratitude and in some measure atone for his previous -conduct. - -Thirdly, that nothing at all about the matter should be said to Mary -Avon: if the man had escaped, there might probably be an end of the -whole business. - -To these resolutions, carried swiftly and unanimously, Angus Sutherland -added a sort of desultory rider, to the effect that moral or immoral -qualities do sometimes reveal themselves in the face. He was also of -opinion that spare persons were more easy of detection in this manner. -He gave an instance of a well-known character in London--a most -promising ruffian who had run through the whole gamut of discreditable -offences. Why was there no record of this brave career written in the -man's face? Because nature had obliterated the lines in fat. When a -man attains to the dimensions and appearance of a scrofulous toad -swollen to the size of an ox, moral and mental traces get rubbed out. -Therefore, contended our F.R.S., all persons who set out on a career of -villany, and don't want to be found out, should eat fat-producing foods. -Potatoes and sugar he especially mentioned as being calculated to -conceal crime. - -However, we had to banish Frederick Smethurst and his evil deeds from -our minds; for the yacht from end to end was in a bustle of commotion -about our going ashore; and as for us--why, we meant to run riot in all -the wonders and delights of civilisation. Innumerable fowls, tons of -potatoes and cabbage and lettuce, fresh butter, new loaves, new milk: -there was no end to the visions that rose before the excited brain of -our chief commissariat officer. And when the Laird, in the act of -stepping, with much dignity, into the gig, expressed his firm conviction -that somewhere or other we should stumble upon a Glasgow newspaper not -more than a week old, so that he might show us the reports of the -meetings of the Strathgovan Commissioners, we knew of no further luxury -that the mind could desire. - -And as we were being rowed ashore, we could not fail to be struck by the -extraordinary abundance of life and business and activity in the world. -Portree, with its wooded crags and white houses shining in the sun, -seemed a large and populous city. The smooth waters of the bay were -crowded with craft of every description; and the boats of the yachts -were coming and going with so many people on board of them that we were -quite stared out of countenance. And then, when we landed, and walked -up the quay, and ascended the hill into the town, we regarded the signs -over the shop-doors with the same curiosity that regards the commonest -features of a foreign street. There was a peculiarity about Portree, -however, that is not met with in continental capitals. We felt that the -ground swayed lightly under our feet. Perhaps these were the last -oscillations of the great volcanic disturbance that shot the black -Coolins into the sky. - -Then the shops: such displays of beautiful things, in silk, and wool, -and cunning woodwork; human ingenuity declaring itself in a thousand -ways, and appealing to our purses. Our purses, to tell the truth, were -gaping. A craving for purchase possessed us. But, after all, the Laird -could not buy servant girls' scarves as a present for Mary Avon; and -Angus Sutherland did not need a second waterproof coat; and though we -reached the telegraph office, there would have been a certain monotony -in spending innumerable shillings on unnecessary telegrams, even though -we might be rejoicing in one of the highest conveniences of -civilisation. The plain truth must be told. Our purchases were limited -to some tobacco and a box or two of paper collars for the men; to one or -two shilling novels; and a flask of eau-de-Cologne. We did not half -avail ourselves of all the luxuries spread out so temptingly before us. - -"Do you think the men will have the water on board yet?" Mary Avon says, -as we walk back. "I do not at all like being on land. The sun scorches -so, and the air is stifling." - -"In my opeenion," says the Laird, "the authorities of Portree are -deserving of great credit for having fixed up the apparatus to let boats -get water on board at the quay. It was a public-spirited project--it -was that. And I do not suppose that any one grumbles at having to pay a -shilling for the privilege. It is a legeetimate tax. I am sure it -would have been a long time or we could have got such a thing at -Strathgovan, if there was need for it there; ye would scarcely believe -it, ma'am, what a spirit of opposition there is among some o' the -Commissioners to any improvement, ye would not believe it." - -"Indeed," she says, in innocent wonder; she quite sympathises with this -public-spirited reformer. - -"Ay, it's true. Mind ye, I am a Conservative myself; I will have -nothing to do with Radicals and their Republics; no, no, but a wise -Conservative knows how to march with the age. Take my own poseetion: -for example, as soon as I saw that the steam fire-engine was a -necessity, I withdrew my opposition at once. I am very thankful to you, -ma'am, for having given me an opportunity of carefully considering the -question. I will never forget our trip round Mull. Dear me! it is warm -the day," added the Laird, as he raised his broad felt hat, and wiped -his face with his voluminous silk handkerchief. - -Here come two pedestrians--good-looking young lads of an obviously -English type--and faultlessly equipped from head to heel. They look -neither to the left nor right; on they go manfully through the dust, the -sun scorching their faces; there must be a trifle of heat under these -knapsacks. Well, we wish them fine weather and whole heels. It is not -the way some of us would like to pass a holiday. For what is this that -Miss Avon is singing lightly to herself as she walks carelessly on, -occasionally pausing to look in at a shop-- - -_And often have we seamen heard how men are killed or undone,_ -_By overturns of carriages, and thieves, and fires in London._ - -Here she turns aside to caress a small terrier; but the animal, -mistaking her intention, barks furiously, and retreats, growling and -ferocious, into the shop. Miss Avon is not disturbed. She walks on, and -completes her nautical ballad--all for her own benefit-- - -_We've heard what risk all landsmen run, from noblemen to tailors,_ -_So, Billy, let's thank Providence that you and I are sailors!_ - - -"What on earth is that, Mary?" her friend behind asks. - -The girl stops with a surprised look, as if she had scarcely been -listening to herself; then she says lightly:-- - -"Oh, don't you know the sailor's song--I forget what they call it:-- - -_A strong sou-wester's blowing, Billy, can't you hear it roar now,_ -_Lord help 'em, how I pities all unhappy folks on shore now._ - - -"You have become a thorough sailor, Miss Avon," says Angus Sutherland, -who has overheard the last quotation. - -"I--I like it better--I am more interested," she says, timidly, "since -you were so kind as to show me the working of the ship." - -"Indeed," says he, "I wish you would take command of her, and order her -present captain below. Don't you see how tired his eyes are becoming? -He won't take his turn of sleep like the others; he has been scarcely -off the deck night or day since we left Canna; and I find it is no use -remonstrating with him. He is too anxious; and he fancies I am in a -hurry to get back; and these continual calms prevent his getting on. -Now the whole difficulty would be solved, if you let me go back by the -steamer; then you could lie at Portree here for a night or two, and let -him have some proper rest." - -"I do believe, Angus," says his hostess, laughing in her gentle way, -"that you threaten to leave us just to see how anxious we are to keep -you." - -"My position as ship's doctor," he retorts, "is compromised. If Captain -John falls ill on my hands whom am I to blame but myself?" - -"I am quite sure I can get him to go below," says Mary Avon, with -decision--"quite sure of it. That is, especially," she adds, rather -shyly, "if you will take his place. I know he would place more -dependence on you than on any of the men." - -This is a very pretty compliment to pay to one who is rather proud of -his nautical knowledge. - -"Well," he says, laughing, "the responsibility must rest on you. Order -him below, to-night, and see whether he obeys. If we don't get to a -proper anchorage, we will manage to sail the yacht somehow among us--you -being captain, Miss Avon." - -"If I am captain," she says, lightly--though she turns away her head -somewhat, "I shall forbid your deserting the ship." - -"So long as you are captain, you need not fear that," he answers. -Surely he could say no less. - -But it was still John of Skye who was skipper when, on getting under -way, we nearly met with a serious accident. Fresh water and all -provisions having been got on board, we weighed anchor only to find the -breeze die wholly down. Then the dingay was got out to tow the yacht -away from the sheltered harbour; and our young Doctor, always anxious -for hard work, must needs jump in to join in this service. But the -little boat had been straining at the cable for scarcely five minutes -when a squall of wind came over from the north-west and suddenly filled -the sails. "Look out there, boys!" called Captain John, for we were -running full down on the dingay. "Let go the rope! Let go!" he -shouted: but they would not let go, as the dingay came sweeping by. In -fact, she caught the yacht just below the quarter, and seemed to -disappear altogether. Mary Avon uttered one brief cry; and then stood -pale--clasping one of the ropes--not daring to look. And John of Skye -uttered some exclamation in the Gaelic; and jumped on to the taffrail. -But the next thing we saw, just above the taffrail, was the red and -shining and laughing face of Angus Sutherland, who was hoisting himself -up by means of the mizen boom; and directly afterwards appeared the -scarlet cap of Hector of Moidart. It was upon this latter culprit that -the full force of John of Skye's wrath was expended. - -"Why did you not let go the rope when I wass call to you?" - -"It is all right, and if I wass put into the water, I have been in the -water before," was the philosophic reply. - -And now it was, as we drew away from Portree, that Captain Mary Avon -endeavoured to assume supreme command and would have the deposed skipper -go below and sleep. John of Skye was very obedient, but he said:--"Oh, -ay. I will get plenty of sleep. But that hill there, that is Ben -Inivaig; and there is not any hill in the West Highlands so bad for -squalls as that hill. By and by I will get plenty of sleep." - -Ben Inivaig let us go past its great, gloomy, forbidding shoulders and -cliffs without visiting us with anything worse than a few variable -puffs; and we got well down into the Raasay Narrows. What a picture of -still summer loveliness was around us!--the rippling blue seas, the -green shores, and far over these the black peaks of the Coolins now -taking a purple tint in the glow of the afternoon. The shallow Sound of -Scalpa we did not venture to attack, especially as it was now low water; -we went outside Scalpa, by the rocks of Skier Dearg. And still John of -Skye evaded, with a gentle Highland courtesy, the orders of the captain. -The silver bell of Master Fred summoned us below for dinner, and still -John of Skye was gently obdurate. - -"Now, John," says Mary Avon, seriously, to him, "you want to make me -angry." - -"Oh, no, mem; I not think that," says he, deprecatingly. - -"Then why won't you go and have some sleep? Do you want to be ill?" - -"Oh, there iss plenty of sleep," says he. "Maybe we will get to Kyle -Akin to-night; and there will be plenty of sleep for us." - -"But I am asking you as a favour to go and get some sleep _now_. Surely -the men can take charge of the yacht!" - -"Oh, yes, oh, yes!" says John of Skye. "They can do that ferry well." - -And then he paused--for he was great friends with this young lady, and -did not like to disoblige her. - -"You will be having your dinner now. After the dinner, if Mr. Sutherland -himself will be on deck, I will go below and turn in for a time." - -"Of course Dr. Sutherland will be on deck," says the new captain, -promptly; and she was so sure of one member of her crew that she added, -"and he will not leave the tiller for a moment until you come to relieve -him." - -Perhaps it was this promise--perhaps it was the wonderful beauty of the -evening--that made us hurry over dinner. Then we went on deck again; -and our young Doctor, having got all his bearings and directions clear -in his head, took the tiller, and John of Skye at length succumbed to -the authority of Commander Avon and disappeared into the forecastle. - -The splendour of colour around us on that still evening!--away in the -west the sea of a pale yellow green, with each ripple a flash of -rose-flame, and over there in the south the great mountains of Skye--the -Coolins, Blaven, and Ben-na-Cailleach--become of a plum-purple in the -clear and cloudless sky. Angus Sutherland was at the tiller -contemplatively smoking an almost black meerschaum; the Laird was -discoursing to us about the extraordinary pith and conciseness of the -Scotch phrases in the Northumbrian Psalter; while ever and anon a -certain young lady, linked arm-in-arm with her friend, would break the -silence with some aimless fragment of ballad or old-world air. - -And still we glided onwards in the beautiful evening; and now ahead of -us in the dusk of the evening, the red star of Kyle Akin lighthouse -steadily gleamed. We might get to anchor, after all, without awaking -John of Skye. - -"In weather like this," remarked our sovereign lady, "in the gathering -darkness, John might keep asleep for fifty years." - -"Like Rip Van Winkle," said the Laird, proud of his erudition. "That is -a wonderful story that Washington Irving wrote--a verra fine story." - -"Washington Irving!--the story is as old as the Coolins," says Dr. -Sutherland. - -The Laird stared as if he had been Rip Van Winkle himself: was he for -ever to be checkmated by the encyclopaedic knowledge of Young -England--or Young Scotland rather--and that knowledge only the -gatherings and sweepings of musty books that anybody with a parrot-like -habit might acquire? - -"Why, surely you know that the legend belongs to that common stock of -legends that go through all literatures?" says our young Doctor. "I -have no doubt the Hindoos have their Epimenides; and that Peter Klaus -turns up somewhere or other in the Gaelic stories. However, that is of -little importance; it is of importance that Captain John should get some -sleep. Hector, come here!" - -There was a brief consultation about the length of anchor-chain wanted -for the little harbour opposite Kyle Akin; Hector's instructions were on -no account to disturb John of Skye. But no sooner had they set about -getting the chain on deck than another figure appeared, black among the -rigging; and there was a well-known voice heard forward. Then Captain -John came aft, and, despite all remonstrances, would relieve his -substitute. Rip Van Winkle's sleep had lasted about an hour and a half. - -And now we steal by the black shores; and that solitary red star comes -nearer and nearer in the dusk; and at length we can make out two or -three other paler lights close down by the water. Behold! the yellow -ports of a steam-yacht at anchor; we know, as our own anchor goes -rattling out in the dark, that we shall have at least one neighbour and -companion through the still watches of the night. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV.* - - *TEMPTATION.* - - -But the night, according to John of Skye's chronology, lasts only until -the tide turns or until a breeze springs up. Long before the wan glare -in the east has arisen to touch the highest peaks of the Coolins, we -hear the tread of the men on deck getting the yacht under way. And then -there is a shuffling noise in Angus Sutherland's cabin; and we guess -that he is stealthily dressing in the dark. Is he anxious to behold the -wonders of daybreak in the beautiful Loch Alsh, or is he bound to take -his share in the sailing of the ship? Less perturbed spirits sink back -again into sleep, and contentedly let the _White Dove_ go on her own way -through the expanding blue-grey light of the dawn. - -Hours afterwards there is a strident shouting down the companion-way; -everybody is summoned on deck to watch the yacht shoot the Narrows of -Kyle Rhea. And the Laird is the first to express his surprise: are -these the dreaded Narrows that have caused Captain John to start before -daybreak so as to shoot them with the tide? All around is a dream of -summer beauty and quiet. A more perfect picture of peace and loveliness -could not be imagined than the green crags of the mainland, and the vast -hills of Skye, and this placid channel between shining in the fair light -of the morning. The only thing we notice is that on the glassy green of -the water--this reflected, deep, almost opaque green is not unlike the -colour of Niagara below the Falls--there are smooth circular lines here -and there; and now and again the bows of the _White Dove_ slowly swerve -away from her course as if in obedience to some unseen and mysterious -pressure. There is not a breath of wind; and it needs all the pulling -of the two men out there in the dingay and all the watchful steering of -Captain John to keep her head straight. Then a light breeze comes along -the great gully; the red-capped men are summoned on board; the dingay is -left astern; the danger of being caught in an eddy and swirled ashore is -over and gone. - -Suddenly the yacht stops as if she had run against a wall. Then, just -as she recovers, there is an extraordinary hissing and roaring in the -dead silence around us, and close by the yacht we find a great circle of -boiling and foaming water, forced up from below and overlapping itself -in ever-increasing folds. And then, on the perfectly glassy sea, -another and another of those boiling and hissing circles appears, until -there is a low rumbling in the summer air like the breaking of distant -waves. And the yacht--the wind having again died down--is curiously -compelled one way and then another, insomuch that John of Skye quickly -orders the men out in the dingay again; and once more the long cable is -tugging at her bows. - -"It seems to me," says Dr. Sutherland to our skipper, "that we are in -the middle of about a thousand whirlpools." - -"Oh, it iss ferry quate this morning," says Captain John, with a shrewd -smile. "It iss not often so quate as this. Ay, it iss sometimes ferry -bad here--quite so bad as Corrievreckan; and when the flood-tide is -rinnin, it will be rinnin like--shist like a race-horse." - -However, by dint of much hard pulling, and judicious steering, we manage -to keep the _White Dove_ pretty well in mid-current; and only once--and -that but for a second or two--get caught in one of those eddies circling -in to the shore. We pass the white ferry-house; a slight breeze carries -us by the green shores and woods of Glenelg; we open out the wider sea -between Isle Ornsay and Loch Hourn; and then a silver tinkle tells us -breakfast is ready. - -That long, beautiful, calm summer day: Ferdinand and Miranda playing -draughts on deck--he having rigged up an umbrella to shelter her from -the hot sun; the Laird busy with papers referring to the Strathgovan -Public Park; the hostess of these people overhauling the stores and -meditating on something recondite for dinner. At last the Doctor fairly -burst out a-laughing. - -"Well," said he, "I have been in many a yacht; but never yet in one -where everybody on board was anxiously waiting for the glass to fall." - -His hostess laughed too. - -"When you come south again," she said, "we may be able to give you a -touch of something different. I think that, even with all your love of -gales, a few days of the equinoctials would quite satisfy you." - -"The equinoctials!" he said, with a surprised look. - -"Yes," said she boldly. "Why not have a good holiday while you are -about it? And a yachting trip is nothing without a fight with the -equinoctials. Oh, you have no idea how splendidly the _White Dove_ -behaves!" - -"I should like to try her," he said, with a quick delight; but directly -afterwards he ruefully shook his head. "No, no," said he, "such a -tremendous spell of idleness is not for me. I have not earned the right -to it yet. Twenty years hence I may be able to have three months' -continued yachting in the West Highlands." - -"If I were you," retorted this small person, with a practical air, "I -would take it when I could get it. What do you know about twenty years -hence?--you may be physician to the Emperor of China. And you have -worked very hard; and you ought to take as long a holiday as you can -get." - -"I am sure," says Mary Avon very timidly, "that is very wise advice." - -"In the meantime," says he, cheerfully, "I am not physician to the -Emperor of China, but to the passengers and crew of the _White Dove_. -The passengers don't do me the honour of consulting me; but I am going -to prescribe for the crew on my own responsibility. All I want is, that -I shall have the assistance of Miss Avon in making them take the dose." - -Miss Avon looked up inquiringly with the soft black eyes of her. - -"Nobody has any control over them but herself--they are like refractory -children. Now," said he, rather more seriously, "this night-and-day work -is telling on the men. Another week of it and you would see _Insomnia_ -written in large letters on their eyes. I want you, Miss Avon, to get -Captain John and the men to have a complete night's rest to-night--a -sound night's sleep from the time we finish dinner till daybreak. We -can take charge of the yacht." - -Miss Avon promptly rose to her feet. - -"John!" she called. - -The big brown-bearded skipper from Skye came aft--putting his pipe in -his waistcoat-pocket the while. - -"John," she said, "I want you to do me a favour now. You and the men -have not been having enough sleep lately. You must all go below -to-night as soon as we come up from dinner; and you must have a good -sleep till daybreak. The gentlemen will take charge of the yacht." - -It was in vain that John of Skye protested he was not tired. It was in -vain that he assured her that, if a good breeze sprung up, we might get -right back to Castle Osprey by the next morning. - -"Why, you know very well," she said, "this calm weather means to last -for ever." - -"Oh, no! I not think that, mem," said John of Skye, smiling. - -"At all events we shall be sailing all night; and that is what I want -you to do, as a favour to me." - -Indeed, our skipper found it was of no use to refuse. The young lady -was peremptory. And so, having settled that matter, she sate down to -her draught-board again. - -But it was the Laird she was playing with now. And this was a -remarkable circumstance about the game: when Angus Sutherland played -with Denny-mains, the latter was hopelessly and invariably beaten; and -when Denny-mains in his turn played with Mary Avon, he was relentlessly -and triumphantly the victor; but when Angus Sutherland played with Miss -Avon, she, somehow or other, generally managed to secure two out of -three games. It was a puzzling triangular duel: the chief feature of it -was the splendid joy of the Laird when he had conquered the English -young lady. He rubbed his hands, he chuckled, he laughed--just as if he -had been repeating one of his own "good ones." - -However, at luncheon the Laird was much more serious; for he was showing -to us how remiss the Government was in not taking up the great solan -question. He had a newspaper cutting which gave in figures--in rows of -figures--the probable number of millions of herrings destroyed every -year by the solan-geese. The injuries done to the herring-fisheries of -this country, he proved to us, was enormous. If a solan is known to eat -on an average fifty herrings a day, just think of the millions on -millions of fish that must go to feed those nests on the Bass Rock! The -Laird waxed quite eloquent about it. The human race were dearer to him -far than any gannet or family of gannets. - -"What I wonder at is this," said our young Doctor with a curious grim -smile, that we had learned to know, coming over his face, "that the -solan, with that extraordinary supply of phosphorus to the brain, should -have gone on remaining only a bird, and a very ordinary bird, too. Its -brain-power should have been developed; it should be able to speak by -this time. In fact, there ought to be solan schoolboards and parochial -boards on the Bass Rock; and commissioners appointed to inquire whether -the building of nests might not be conducted on more scientific -principles. When I was a boy--I am sorry to say--I used often to catch a -solan by floating out a piece of wood with a dead herring on it: a wise -bird, with its brain full of phosphorus, ought to have known that it -would break its head when it swooped down on a piece of wood." - -The Laird sate in dignified silence. There was something occult and -uncanny about many of this young man's sayings--they savoured too much -of the dangerous and unsettling tendencies of these modern days. -Besides, he did not see what good could come of likening a lot of -solan-geese to the Commissioners of the Burgh of Strathgovan. His -remarks on the herring-fisheries had been practical and intelligible; -they had given no occasion for jibes. - -We were suddenly startled by the rattling out of the anchor-chain. What -could it mean?--were we caught in an eddy? There was a scurrying up on -deck, only to find that, having drifted so far south with the tide, and -the tide beginning to turn, John of Skye proposed to secure what -advantage we had gained by coming to anchor. There was a sort of shamed -laughter over this business. Was the noble _White Dove_ only a river -barge, then, that she was thus dependent on the tides for her progress? -But it was no use either to laugh or to grumble; two of us proposed to -row the Laird away to certain distant islands that lie off the shore -north of the mouth of Loch Hourn; and for amusement's sake we took some -towels with us. - -Look now how this long and shapely gig cuts the blue water. The Laird -is very dignified in the stern, with the tiller-ropes in his hand; he -keeps a straight course enough--though he is mostly looking over the -side. And, indeed, this is a perfect wonder-hall over which we are -making our way--the water so clear that we notice the fish darting here -and there among the great brown blades of the tangle and the long green -sea-grass. Then there are stretches of yellow sand, with shells and -star-fish shining far below. The sun burns on our hands; there is a -dead stillness of heat; the measured splash of the oars startles the -sea-birds in there among the rocks. - -_Send the biorlinn on careering,_ -_Cheerily and all together,_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long, strong pull together!_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - -Look out for the shallows, most dignified of coxswains: what if we were -to imbed her bows in the silver sand?-- - -_Another cheer! Our isle appears--_ -_Our biorlinn bears her on the faster!_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ -_A long strong pull together!_ - _Ho, ro, clansmen!_ - - -"Hold hard!" calls Denny-mains; and behold! we are in among a network of -channels and small islands lying out here in the calm sea; and the birds -are wildly calling and screaming and swooping about our heads, indignant -at the approach of strangers. What is our first duty, then, in coming -to these unknown islands and straits?--why, surely, to name them in the -interests of civilisation. And we do so accordingly. Here--let it be -for ever known--is John Smith Bay. There, Thorley's Food for Cattle -Island. Beyond that, on the south, Brown and Poison's Straits. It is -quite true that these islands and bays may have been previously visited; -but it was no doubt a long time ago; and the people did not stop to -bestow names. The latitude and longitude may be dealt with afterwards; -meanwhile the discoverers unanimously resolve that the most beautiful of -all the islands shall hereafter, through all time, be known as the -Island of Mary Avon. - -It was on this island that the Laird achieved his memorable capture of a -young sea-bird--a huge creature of unknown species that fluttered and -scrambled over bush and over scaur, while Denny-mains, quite forgetting -his dignity and the heat of the sun, clambered after it over the rocks. -And when he got it in his hands, it lay as one dead. He was sorry. He -regarded the newly-fledged thing with compassion; and laid it tenderly -down on the grass; and came away down again to the shore. But he had -scarcely turned his back when the demon bird got on its legs, and--with -a succession of shrill and sarcastic "yawps"--was off and away over the -higher ledges. No fasting girl had ever shammed so completely as this -scarcely-fledged bird. - -We bathed in Brown and Poison's Straits, to the great distress of -certain sea-pyots that kept screaming over our heads, resenting the -intrusion of the discoverers. But in the midst of it, we were suddenly -called to observe a strange darkness on the sea, far away in the north, -between Glenelg and Skye. Behold! the long-looked-for wind--a hurricane -swooping down from the northern hills! Our toilette on the hot rocks -was of brief duration; we jumped into the gig; away we went through the -glassy water! It was a race between us and the northerly breeze which -should reach the yacht first; and we could see that John of Skye had -remarked the coming wind, for the men were hoisting the fore-staysail. -The dark blue on the water spreads; the reflections of the hills and the -clouds gradually disappear; as we clamber on board the first puffs of -the breeze are touching the great sails. The anchor has just been got -up; the gig is hoisted to the davits; slack out the main sheet, you -shifty Hector, and let the great boom go out! Nor is it any mere squall -that has come down from the hills; but a fine, steady, northerly breeze; -and away we go with the white foam in our wake. Farewell to the great -mountains over the gloomy Loch Hourn; and to the lighthouse over there -at Isle Ornsay; and to the giant shoulders of Ard-na-Glishnich. Are not -these the dark green woods of Armadale that we see in the west? And -southward, and still southward we go with the running seas and the fresh -brisk breeze from the north: who knows where we may not be tonight -before Angus Sutherland's watch begins? - -There is but one thoughtful face on board. It is that of Mary Avon. For -the moment, at least, she seems scarcely to rejoice that we have at last -got this grateful wind to bear us away to the south and to Castle -Osprey. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI.* - - *THROUGH THE DARK.* - -_Ahead she goes! the land she knows!_ - - -What though we see a sudden squall come tearing over from the shores of -Skye, whitening the waves as it approaches us? The _White Dove_ is not -afraid of any squall. And there are the green woods of Armadale, dusky -under the western glow; and here the sombre heights of Dun Bane; and -soon we will open out the great gap of Loch Nevis. We are running with -the running waves; a general excitement prevails; even the Laird has -dismissed for the moment certain dark suspicions about Frederick -Smethurst that have for the last day or two been haunting his mind. - -And here is a fine sight!--the great steamer coming down from the -north--and the sunset is burning on her red funnels--and behold! she has -a line of flags from her stem to her top-masts and down to her stern -again. Who is on board?--some great laird, or some gay wedding-party? - -"Now is your chance, Angus," says Queen T., almost maliciously, as the -steamer slowly gains on us. "If you want to go on at once, I know the -captain would stop for a minute and pick you up." - -He looked at her for a second in a quick, hurt way; then he saw that she -was only laughing at him. - -"Oh, no, thank you," he said, blushing like a schoolboy; "unless you -want to get rid of me. I have been looking forward to sailing the yacht -to-night." - -"And--and you said," remarked Miss Avon, rather timidly, "that we should -challenge them again after dinner this evening." - -This was a pretty combination: "we" referred to Angus Sutherland and -herself. Her elders were disrespectfully described as "them." So the -younger people had not forgotten how they were beaten by "them" on the -previous evening. - -Is there a sound of pipes amid the throbbing of the paddles? What a -crowd of people swarm to the side of the great vessel! And there is the -captain on the paddle-box--out all handkerchiefs to return the -innumerable salutations--and good-bye, you brave Glencoe!--you have no -need to rob us of any one of our passengers. - -Where does the breeze come from on this still evening?--there is not a -cloud in the sky, and there is a drowsy haze of heat all along the land. -But nevertheless it continues; and, as the _White Dove_ cleaves her way -through the tumbling sea, we gradually draw on to the Point of Sleat, -and open out the great plain of the Atlantic, now a golden green, where -the tops of the waves catch the light of the sunset skies. And there, -too, are our old friends Haleval and Haskeval; but they are so far away, -and set amid such a bewildering light, that the whole island seems to be -of a pale transparent rose-purple. And a still stranger thing now -attracts the eyes of all on board. The setting sun, as it nears the -horizon-line of the sea, appears to be assuming a distinctly oblong -shape. It is slowly sinking into a purple haze, and becomes more and -more oblong as it nears the sea. There is a call for all the glasses -hung up in the companion-way; and now what is it that we find out there -by the aid of the various binoculars? Why, apparently, a wall of -purple; and there is an oblong hole in it, with a fire of gold light far -away on the other side. This apparent golden tunnel through the haze -grows redder and more red; it becomes more and more elongated; then it -burns a deeper crimson until it is almost a line. The next moment there -is a sort of shock to the eyes; for there is a sudden darkness all along -the horizon-line: the purple-black Atlantic is barred against that lurid -haze low down in the west. - -It was a merry enough dinner-party: perhaps it was the consciousness -that the _White Dove_ was still bowling along that brightened up our -spirits, and made the Laird of Denny-mains more particularly loquacious. -The number of good ones that he told us was quite remarkable--until his -laughter might have been heard through the whole ship. And to whom now -did he devote the narration of those merry anecdotes--to whom but Miss -Mary Avon, who was his ready chorus on all occasions, and who entered -with a greater zest than any one into the humours of them. Had she been -studying the Lowland dialect, then, that she understood and laughed so -lightly and joyously at stories about a thousand years of age? - -"Oh, ay," the Laird was saying patronisingly to her, "I see ye can enter -into the peculiar humour of our Scotch stories; it is not every English -person that can do that. And ye understand the language fine.... -Well," he added, with an air of modest apology, "perhaps I do not give -the pronunciation as broad as I might. I have got out of the way of -talking the provincial Scotch since I was a boy--indeed, ah'm generally -taken for an Englishman maself--but I do my best to give ye the speerit -of it." - -"Oh, I am sure your imitation of the provincial Scotch is most -excellent--most excellent--and it adds so much to the humour of the -stories," says this disgraceful young hypocrite. - -"Oh, ay, oh, ay," says the Laird, greatly delighted. "I will admit that -some o' the stories would not have so much humour but for the language. -But when ye have both! Did ye ever hear of the laddie who was called in -to his porridge by his mother?" - -We perceived by the twinkle in the Laird's eyes that a real good one was -coming. He looked round to see that we were listening, but it was Mary -Avon whom he addressed. - -"A grumbling bit laddie--a philosopher, too," said he. "His mother -thought he would come in the quicker if he knew there was a fly in the -milk. '_Johnny_,' she cried out, '_Johnny, come in to your parritch; -there's a flee in the milk._' '_It'll no droon,_' says he. '_What!_' -she says, '_grumblin again? Do ye think there's no enough milk?' -'Plenty for the parritch_,' says he--_kee! kee! kee!_--sharp, eh, wasn't -eh?--'_Plenty for the parritch_,' says he--ha! ha! ho! ho! ho!"--and the -Laird slapped his thigh, and chuckled to himself. "Oh, ay, Miss Mary," -he added, approvingly, "I see you are beginning to understand the Scotch -humour fine." - -And if our good friend the Laird had been but twenty years younger--with -his battery of irresistible jokes, and his great and obvious affection -for this stray guest of ours, to say nothing of his dignity and -importance as a Commissioner of Strathgovan? What chance would a poor -Scotch student have had, with his test-tubes and his scientific -magazines, his restless, audacious speculations and eager ambitions? On -the one side, wealth, ease, a pleasant facetiousness, and a comfortable -acceptance of the obvious facts of the universe--including water-rates -and steam fire-engines; on the other, poverty, unrest, the physical -struggle for existence, the mental struggle with the mysteries of life: -who could doubt what the choice would be? However, there was no thought -of this rivalry now. The Laird had abdicated in favour of his nephew, -Howard, about whom he had been speaking a good deal to Mary Avon of -late. And Angus--though he was always very kind and timidly attentive -to Miss Avon--seemed nevertheless at times almost a little afraid of -her; or perhaps it was only a vein of shyness that cropped up from time -to time through his hard mental characteristics. In any case, he was at -this moment neither the shy lover nor the eager student; he was full of -the prospect of having sole command of the ship during a long night on -the Atlantic, and he hurried us up on deck after dinner without a word -about that return-battle at bezique. - -The night had come on apace, though there was still a ruddy mist about -the northern skies, behind the dusky purple of the Coolin hills. The -stars were out overhead; the air around us was full of the soft cries of -the divers; occasionally, amid the lapping of the water, we could hear -some whirring by of wings. Then the red port light and the green -starboard light were brought up from the forecastle, and fixed in their -place; the men went below; Angus Sutherland took the tiller; the Laird -kept walking backwards and forwards as a sort of look-out; and the two -women were as usual seated on rugs together in some invisible -corner--crooning snatches of ballads, or making impertinent remarks -about people much wiser and older than themselves. - -"Now, Angus," says the voice of one of them--apparently from somewhere -about the companion, "show us that you can sail the yacht properly, and -we will give you complete command during the equinoctials." - -"You speak of the equinoctials," said he, laughing, "as if it was quite -settled I should be here in September." - -"Why not?" said she, promptly. "Mary is my witness you promised. You -wouldn't go and desert two poor lone women?" - -"But I have got that most uncomfortable thing, a conscience," he -answered; "and I know it would stare at me as if I were mad if I -proposed to spend such a long time in idleness. It would be outraging -all my theories, besides. You know, for years and years back I have been -limiting myself in every way--living, for example, on the smallest -allowance of food and drink, and that of the simplest and cheapest--so -that if any need arose, I should have no luxurious habits to -abandon----" - -"But what possible need can there be?" said Mary Avon, warmly. - -"Do you expect to spend your life in a jail?" said the other woman. - -"No," said he, quite simply. "But I will give you an instance of what a -man who devotes himself to his profession may have to do. A friend of -mine, who is one of the highest living authorities on _Materia Medica_, -refused all invitations for three months, and during the whole of that -time lived each day on precisely the same food and drink, weighed out in -exact quantities, so as to determine the effect of particular drugs on -himself. Well, you know, you should be ready to do that----" - -"Oh, how wrong you are!" says Mary Avon, with the same impetuosity. "A -man who works as hard as you do should not sacrifice yourself to a -theory. And what is it? It is quite foolish!" - -"Mary!" her friend says. - -"It is," she says, with generous warmth. "It is like a man who goes -through life with a coffin on his back, so that he may be ready for -death. Don't you think that when death comes it will be time enough to -be getting the coffin?" - -This was a poser. - -"You know quite well," she says, "that when the real occasion offered, -like the one you describe, you could deny yourself any luxuries readily -enough; why should you do so now?" - -At this there was a gentle sound of laughter. - -"Luxuries--the luxuries of the _White Dove_!" says her hostess, mindful -of tinned meats. - -"Yes, indeed," says our young Doctor, though he is laughing too. "There -is far too much luxury--the luxury of idleness--on board this yacht to -be wholesome for one like me." - -"Perhaps you object to the effeminacy of the downy couches and the -feather pillows," says his hostess, who is always grumbling about the -hardness of the beds. - -But it appears that she has made an exceedingly bad shot. The man at -the wheel--one can just make out his dark figure against the clear -starlit heavens, though occasionally he gets before the yellow light of -the binnacle--proceeds to assure her that, of all the luxuries of -civilisation, he appreciates most a horse-hair pillow; and that he -attributes his sound sleeping on board the yacht to the hardness of the -beds. He would rather lay his head on a brick, he says, for a night's -rest than sink it in the softest feathers. - -"Do you wonder," he says, "that Jacob dreamed of angels when he had a -stone for his pillow? I don't. If I wanted to have a pleasant sleep -and fine dreams that is the sort of pillow I should have." - -Some phrase of this catches the ear of our look-out forward; he -instantly comes aft. - -"Yes, it is a singular piece of testimony," he says. "There is no doubt -of it; I have myself seen the very place." - -We were not startled; we knew that the Laird, under the guidance of a -well-known Free Church minister, had made a run through Palestine. - -"Ay," said he, "the further I went away from my own country the more I -saw nothing but decadence and meesery. The poor craytures!--living -among ruins, and tombs, and decay, without a trace of public spirit or -private energy. The disregard of sanitary laws was something terrible -to look at--as bad as their universal beggary. That is what comes of -centralisation, of suppressing local government. Would ye believe that -there are a lot of silly bodies actually working to get our Burgh of -Strathgovan annexed to Glasgow--swallowed up in Glasgow!" - -"Impossible!" we exclaim. - -"I tell ye it is true. But no, no! We are not ripe yet for those -Radical measures. We are constituted under an Act of Parliament. Before -the House of Commons would dare to annex the free and flourishing Burgh -of Strathgovan to Glasgow, I'm thinking the country far and near would -hear something of it!" - -Yes; and we think so, too. And we think it would be better if the -hamlets and towns of Palestine were governed by men of public spirit -like the Commissioners of Strathgovan; then they would be properly -looked after. Is there a single steam fire-engine in Jericho? - -However, it is late; and presently the women say good-night and retire. -And the Laird is persuaded to go below with them also; for how otherwise -could he have his final glass of toddy in the saloon? There are but two -of us left on deck, in the darkness, under the stars. - -It is a beautiful night, with those white and quivering points overhead, -and the other white and burning points gleaming on the black waves that -whirl by the yacht. Beyond the heaving plain of waters there is nothing -visible but the dusky gloom of the Island of Eigg, and away in the south -the golden eye of Ardnamurchan lighthouse, for which we are steering. -Then the intense silence--broken only when the wind, changing a little, -gybes the sails and sends the great boom swinging over on to the lee -tackle. It is so still that we are startled by the sudden noise of the -blowing of a whale; and it sounds quite close to the yacht, though it is -more likely that the animal is miles away. - -"She is a wonderful creature--she is indeed," says the man at the wheel; -as if every one must necessarily be thinking about the same person. - -"Who?" - -"Your young English friend. Every minute of her life seems to be an -enjoyment to her; she sings just as a bird sings, for her own amusement, -and without thinking." - -"She can think, too; she is not a fool." - -"Though she does not look very strong," continues the young Doctor, "she -must have a thoroughly healthy constitution, or how could she have such -a happy disposition? She is always contented; she is never put out. If -you had only seen her patience and cheerfulness when she was attending -that old woman--many a time I regretted it--the case was hopeless--a -hired nurse would have done as well." - -"Hiring a nurse might not have satisfied the young lady's notions of -duty." - -"Well, I've seen women in sick-rooms, but never any one like her," said -he, and then he added, with a sort of emphatic wonder, "I'm hanged if -she did not seem to enjoy that, too! Then you never saw any one so -particular about following out instructions." - -It is here suggested to our steersman that he himself may be a little -too particular about following out instructions. For John of Skye's -last counsel was to keep Ardnamurchan light on our port bow. That was -all very well when we were off the north of Eigg; but is Dr. Sutherland -aware that the south point of Eigg--Eilean-na-Castle--juts pretty far -out; and is not that black line of land coming uncommonly close on our -starboard bow? With some reluctance our new skipper consents to alter -his course by a couple of points; and we bear away down for -Ardnamurchan. - -And of what did he not talk during the long starlit night--the person -who ought to have been lookout sitting contentedly aft, a mute -listener?--of the strange fears that must have beset the people who -first adventured out to sea; of the vast expenditure of human life that -must have been thrown away in the discovery of the most common facts -about currents and tides and rocks; and so forth, and so forth. But ever -and again his talk returned to Mary Avon. - -"What does the Laird mean by his suspicions about her uncle?" he asked -on one occasion--just as we had been watching a blue-white bolt flash -down through the serene heavens and expire in mid-air. - -"Mr. Frederick Smethurst has an ugly face." - -"But what does he mean about those relations between the man with the -ugly face and his niece?" - -"That is idle speculation. Frederick Smethurst was her trustee, and -might have done her some mischief--that is, if he is an out-and-out -scoundrel; but that is all over. Mary is mistress of her own property -now." - -Here the boom came slowly swinging over; and presently there were all -the sheets of the head-sails to be looked after--tedious work enough for -amateurs in the darkness of the night. - -Then further silence; and the monotonous rush and murmur of the unseen -sea; and the dark topmast describing circles among the stars. We get up -one of the glasses to make astronomical observations, but the heaving of -the boat somewhat interferes with this quest after knowledge. Whoever -wants to have a good idea of forked lightning has only to take up a -binocular on board a pitching yacht, and try to fix it on a particular -planet. - -The calm, solemn night passes slowly; the red and green lights shine on -the black rigging; afar in the south burns the guiding star of -Ardnamurchan. And we have drawn away from Eigg now, and passed the open -sound; and there, beyond the murmuring sea, is the doom of the Island of -Muick. All the people below are wrapped in slumber; the cabins are -dark; there is only a solitary candle burning in the saloon. It is a -strange thing to be responsible for the lives of those sleeping -folk--out here on the lone Atlantic, in the stillness of the night. - -Our young Doctor bears his responsibility lightly. He has--for a -wonder--laid aside his pipe; and he is humming a song that he has heard -Mary Avon singing of late--something about - - O think na lang, lassie, though I gang awa', - For I'll come and see ye in spite o' them a', - -and he is wishing the breeze would blow a bit harder--and wondering -whether the wind will die away altogether when we get under the lee of -Ardnamurchan Point. - -But long before we have got down to Ardnamurchan, there is a pale grey -light beginning to tell in the eastern skies; and the stars are growing -fainter; and the black line of the land is growing clearer above the -wrestling seas. Is it a fancy that the first light airs of the morning -are a trifle cold? And then we suddenly see, among the dark rigging -forward, one or two black figures; and presently John of Skye comes aft, -rubbing his eyes. He has had a good sleep at last. - -Go below, then, you stout-sinewed young Doctor; you have had your desire -of sailing the _White Dove_ through the still watches of the night. And -soon you will be asleep, with your head on the hard pillow of that -little state-room and though the pillow is not as hard as a stone, still -the night and the sea and the stars are quickening to the brain; and who -knows that you may not perchance after all dream of angels, or hear some -faint singing far away? - - * * * * * - -_There was Mary Beaton--and Mary Seaton----_ - - * * * * * - -Or is it only a sound of the waves? - - - - - END OF VOL. I. - - - - - LONDON: R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, BREAD STREET HILL. - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHITE WINGS, VOLUME I (OF 3) *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43828 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a -registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, -unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything -for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. 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