diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 11:32:53 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 11:32:53 -0800 |
| commit | 14bbadf188ce8c2d50b9ee5c96045d9d54ea8fbe (patch) | |
| tree | f2d15a9bc435e88a9ed98d9eaa20e3f1598cbc34 /43830-h/43830-h.html | |
| parent | b846462c62f4198f6e34a93afaceb1b5e63e0cd0 (diff) | |
Diffstat (limited to '43830-h/43830-h.html')
| -rw-r--r-- | 43830-h/43830-h.html | 7581 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 7581 deletions
diff --git a/43830-h/43830-h.html b/43830-h/43830-h.html deleted file mode 100644 index 43bc1d8..0000000 --- a/43830-h/43830-h.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7581 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version='1.0' encoding='utf-8'?> -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC '-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN' 'http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd'> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> -<meta name="generator" content="Docutils 0.8.1: http://docutils.sourceforge.net/" /> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg common docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles common to HTML and EPUB. Put styles -that are specific to HTML and EPUB into their relative stylesheets. - -:Author: Marcello Perathoner (webmaster@gutenberg.org) -:Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - -This stylesheet is based on: - - :Author: David Goodger (goodger@python.org) - :Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - - Default cascading style sheet for the HTML output of Docutils. - -*/ - -/* ADE 1.7.2 chokes on !important and throws all css out. */ - -/* FONTS */ - -.italics { font-style: italic } -.no-italics { font-style: normal } - -.bold { font-weight: bold } -.no-bold { font-weight: normal } - -.small-caps { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.gesperrt { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.antiqua { font-style: italic } /* what else can we do ? */ -.monospaced { font-family: monospace } - -.smaller { font-size: smaller } -.larger { font-size: larger } - -.xx-small { font-size: xx-small } -.x-small { font-size: x-small } -.small { font-size: small } -.medium { font-size: medium } -.large { font-size: large } -.x-large { font-size: x-large } -.xx-large { font-size: xx-large } - -.text-transform-uppercase { text-transform: uppercase } -.text-transform-lowercase { text-transform: lowercase } -.text-transform-none { text-transform: none } - -.red { color: red } -.green { color: green } -.blue { color: blue } -.yellow { color: yellow } -.white { color: white } -.gray { color: gray } -.black { color: black } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.left { text-align: left } -.justify { text-align: justify } -.center { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.centerleft { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.right { text-align: right; text-indent: 0 } - -/* LINE HEIGHT */ - -body { line-height: 1.5 } -p { margin: 0; - text-indent: 2em } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.title, .subtitle { page-break-after: avoid } - -.container, .title, .subtitle, #pg-header - { page-break-inside: avoid } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { text-align: justify } - -p.pfirst, p.noindent { - text-indent: 0 -} - -.boxed { border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -.topic, .note { margin: 5% 0; border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -div.section { clear: both } - -div.line-block { margin: 1.5em 0 } /* same leading as p */ -div.line-block.inner { margin: 0 0 0 10% } -div.line { margin-left: 20%; text-indent: -20%; } -.line-block.noindent div.line { margin-left: 0; text-indent: 0; } - -hr.docutils { margin: 1.5em 40%; border: none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; } -div.transition { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.vfill, .vspace { border: 0px solid white } - -.title { margin: 1.5em 0 } -.title.with-subtitle { margin-bottom: 0 } -.subtitle { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -/* header font style */ -/* http://dev.w3.org/csswg/css3-fonts/#propdef-font-size */ - -h1.title { font-size: 200%; } /* for book title only */ -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-1 { font-size: 150%; margin-top: 4.5em; margin-bottom: 2em } -h3.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2.25em; margin-bottom: 1.25em } -h4.title, p.subtitle.level-3 { font-size: 100%; margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; font-weight: bold; } -h5.title, p.subtitle.level-4 { font-size: 89%; margin-top: 1.87em; margin-bottom: 1.69em; font-style: italic; } -h6.title, p.subtitle.level-5 { font-size: 60%; margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 2.5em } - -/* title page */ - -h1.title, p.subtitle.level-1, -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { text-align: center } - -#pg-header, -h1.document-title { margin: 10% 0 5% 0 } -p.document-subtitle { margin: 0 0 5% 0 } - -/* PG header and footer */ -#pg-machine-header { } -#pg-produced-by { } - -li.toc-entry { list-style-type: none } -ul.open li, ol.open li { margin-bottom: 1.5em } - -.attribution { margin-top: 1.5em } - -.example-rendered { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted red; padding: 1em; background-color: #ffd } -.literal-block.example-source { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted blue; padding: 1em; background-color: #eef } - -/* DROPCAPS */ - -/* BLOCKQUOTES */ - -blockquote { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -blockquote.epigraph { } - -blockquote.highlights { } - -div.local-contents { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -div.abstract { margin: 3em 10% } -div.image { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.caption { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.legend { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.hidden { display: none } - -.invisible { visibility: hidden; color: white } /* white: mozilla print bug */ - -a.toc-backref { - text-decoration: none ; - color: black } - -dl.docutils dd { - margin-bottom: 0.5em } - -div.figure { margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em } - -img { max-width: 100% } - -div.footer, div.header { - clear: both; - font-size: smaller } - -div.sidebar { - margin: 0 0 0.5em 1em ; - border: medium outset ; - padding: 1em ; - background-color: #ffffee ; - width: 40% ; - float: right ; - clear: right } - -div.sidebar p.rubric { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-size: medium } - -ol.simple, ul.simple { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -ol.toc-list, ul.toc-list { padding-left: 0 } -ol ol.toc-list, ul ul.toc-list { padding-left: 5% } - -ol.arabic { - list-style: decimal } - -ol.loweralpha { - list-style: lower-alpha } - -ol.upperalpha { - list-style: upper-alpha } - -ol.lowerroman { - list-style: lower-roman } - -ol.upperroman { - list-style: upper-roman } - -p.credits { - font-style: italic ; - font-size: smaller } - -p.label { - white-space: nowrap } - -p.rubric { - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger ; - color: maroon ; - text-align: center } - -p.sidebar-title { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger } - -p.sidebar-subtitle { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -p.topic-title, p.admonition-title { - font-weight: bold } - -pre.address { - margin-bottom: 0 ; - margin-top: 0 ; - font: inherit } - -.literal-block, .doctest-block { - margin-left: 2em ; - margin-right: 2em; } - -span.classifier { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-style: oblique } - -span.classifier-delimiter { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -span.interpreted { - font-family: sans-serif } - -span.option { - white-space: nowrap } - -span.pre { - white-space: pre } - -span.problematic { - color: red } - -span.section-subtitle { - /* font-size relative to parent (h1..h6 element) */ - font-size: 100% } - -table { margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; border-spacing: 0 } -table.align-left, table.align-right { margin-top: 0 } - -table.table { border-collapse: collapse; } - -table.table.hrules-table thead { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 0 } -table.table.hrules-table tbody { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows tr { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 0 0 1px } -table.table.hrules-rows tr.last { border-width: 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows td, -table.table.hrules-rows th { padding: 1ex 1em; vertical-align: middle } - -table.table tr { border-width: 0 } -table.table td, -table.table th { padding: 0.5ex 1em } -table.table tr.first td { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last td { padding-bottom: 1ex } -table.table tr.first th { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last th { padding-bottom: 1ex } - - -table.citation { - border-left: solid 1px gray; - margin-left: 1px } - -table.docinfo { - margin: 3em 4em } - -table.docutils { } - -div.footnote-group { margin: 1em 0 } -table.footnote td.label { width: 2em; text-align: right; padding-left: 0 } - -table.docutils td, table.docutils th, -table.docinfo td, table.docinfo th { - padding: 0 0.5em; - vertical-align: top } - -table.docutils th.field-name, table.docinfo th.docinfo-name { - font-weight: bold ; - text-align: left ; - white-space: nowrap ; - padding-left: 0 } - -/* used to remove borders from tables and images */ -.borderless, table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - border: 0 } - -table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - /* Override padding for "table.docutils td" with "!important". - The right padding separates the table cells. */ - padding: 0 0.5em 0 0 } /* FIXME: was !important */ - -h1 tt.docutils, h2 tt.docutils, h3 tt.docutils, -h4 tt.docutils, h5 tt.docutils, h6 tt.docutils { - font-size: 100% } - -ul.auto-toc { - list-style-type: none } -</style> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg HTML docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles specific to HTML. -*/ - -/* FONTS */ - -/* em { font-style: normal } -strong { font-weight: normal } */ - -.small-caps { font-variant: small-caps } -.gesperrt { letter-spacing: 0.1em } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.align-left { clear: left; - float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>WHITE WINGS, VOLUME III</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="White Wings, Volume III (of 3)" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="William Black" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1880" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="43830" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2013-09-27" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="White Wings, Volume III A Yachting Romance" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="White Wings, Volume III A Yachting Romance" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="wings3.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2013-09-28T00:13:07.733445+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43830" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="William Black" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2013-09-27" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a7 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="white-wings-volume-iii"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">WHITE WINGS, VOLUME III</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: White Wings, Volume III -<br /> A Yachting Romance -<br /> -<br />Author: William Black -<br /> -<br />Release Date: September 27, 2013 [EBook #43830] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>WHITE WINGS, VOLUME III (OF 3)</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">WHITE WINGS:</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">A Yachting Romance.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">WILLIAM BLACK,</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">AUTHOR OF "THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON," -<br />"GREEN PASTURES AND PICCADILLY," ETC.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">IN THREE VOLUMES.</em></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">VOL. III.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">London: -<br />MACMILLAN AND CO. -<br />1880.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics small">The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">LONDON: -<br />R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR. -<br />BREAD STREET HILL.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER I.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-confession">A CONFESSION</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER II.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#only-a-headache">ONLY A HEADACHE</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER III.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-the-dark">IN THE DARK</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER IV.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#to-absent-friends">TO ABSENT FRIENDS!</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER V.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#suspicions">SUSPICIONS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER VI.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#certainty">CERTAINTY</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER VII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-parable">A PARABLE</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER VIII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-release">A RELEASE</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER IX.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#while-the-ripples-fold-upon-sands-of-gold">"WHILE THE RIPPLES FOLD UPON SANDS OF GOLD"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER X.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#backward-thoughts">BACKWARD THOUGHTS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XI.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-toast">A TOAST</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#expectations">EXPECTATIONS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XIII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#ye-are-welcome-glenogie">"YE ARE WELCOME, GLENOGIE!"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XIV.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-equinoctials-at-last">THE EQUINOCTIALS AT LAST</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XV.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#flieh-auf-hinaus">"FLIEH! AUF! HINAUS!"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XVI.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#after-the-gale">AFTER THE GALE</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XVII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-good-one-for-the-last">"A GOOD ONE FOR THE LAST"</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>CHAPTER XVIII.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#adieu">ADIEU</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-confession"><span class="bold x-large">WHITE WINGS:</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">A Yachting Romance.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A CONFESSION.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>What could the solitary scouts, coming back -from the various points of the island, know of -this quick, unwilling cry of pain, and of the -forced calm that followed it? They had their -own sorrows. There was a gloom upon their -faces. One and all bore the same story—not -a seal, not a wild duck, not even a rock -pigeon anywhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it is a fine thing to be able to -straighten one's back," says the Laird, who -always seizes on the cheerful side; "and we -have not given up hope of your getting the -sealskin yet, Miss Mary—no, no. The Doctor -says they are away hunting just now; when -the tide gets low again they will come up on -the rocks. So the best thing we can do is to -spend plenty of time over our luncheon, and -cross the island again in the afternoon. Aye; -begun already?" adds the Laird, as he goes -up to the canvas, and regards the rough -outlines in charcoal with a critical air. "Very -good! very good!" he says, following the -lines with his thumb, and apparently drawing -in the air. "Excellent! The composeetion -very clever indeed—simple, bold, striking. -And a fine blaze of colour ye'll have on a -day like this; and then the heavy black hull -of the smack bang in the foreground: -excellent, excellent! But if I were you, I -would leave out that rock there; ye would -get a better sweep of the sea. Don't distract -the eye in sea pieces; bold lines—firm, sound -colour: and there ye are. Well, my lass, ye -have the skill of constructing a picture. -Tom Galbraith himself would admit that, I -know——"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But here the Laird is called away by his -hostess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would advise you, sir," says she, "to -have some luncheon while you can get it. It -is a very strange thing, with all you gentlemen -on board, and with all those guns lying about, -but we are drawing nearer and nearer to -starvation. I wish you would give up hunting -seals, and shoot something useful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here our young Doctor appears with certain -bottles that have been cooling in the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There must be plenty of rock pigeons -in the caves we passed this morning, on the -other island," he says.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not those beautiful birds!" says she -of the empty larder. "We cannot have -Hurlingham transported to the Highlands."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whoever trys to shoot those pigeons won't -find it a Hurlingham business," he remarks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Laird has a soul above luncheons, -and larders, and pigeon-shooting. He is still -profoundly absorbed in thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," he says, at length, to the young -lady who, as usual, is by his side. "I am -wrong!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looks up at him with some surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I am wrong," he says, decisively. -"Ye must keep in that island. Ye must -sacrifice picturesqueness to truth. Never mind -the picture: keep the faithful record. In after -life ye will be able to get plenty of pictures; -but ye may not be able to get an exact record -of the things ye saw when ye were sailing -with the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you know, sir," observes Miss Avon, -with a somewhat embarrassed smile, "you -don't give me much encouragement. You -always speak as if I were to be compelled to -keep those sketches. Am I to find nobody -silly enough to buy them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, somehow or other of late, the Laird -has been more and more inclined to treat the -sale of Mary Avon's pictures as a most -irresistible joke. He laughs and chuckles at -the mere mention of such a thing, just as if -Homesh were somewhere about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sell them!" he says, with another deep -chuckle. "Ye will never sell them. Ye could -not have the heart to part with them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The heart has to be kept in proper subjection," -says she, lightly, "when one has to -earn one's living."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Queen Titania glances quickly at the girl; -but apparently there is no profound meaning -concealed in this speech. Miss Avon has -taken her seat on a shelving piece of grey -rock; and, if she is concerned about anything, -it is about the safety of certain plates and -knives and such things. Her hand is quite -steady as she holds out her tumbler for the -Youth to pour some water into the claret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Luncheon over, she returns to her work; -and the band of seal-hunters, taking to cigars -and pipes, sit and watch the tide slowly ebb -away from the golden-brown seaweed. Then, -with many a caution as to patience and silence, -they rise and get their guns and set out. -Already there is a disposition to slouch the -head and walk timidly; though as yet there is -no need of any precaution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Glückliche Reise!</em><span>" says Miss Avon, -pleasantly, as we pass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Angus Sutherland starts, and turns his head. -But the salutation was not for him; it was -meant for the Youth, who is understood to be -the most eager of the seal-hunters. And -Mr. Smith, not having his answer pat, replies, "I -hope so;" and then looks rather confused as -he passes on, carefully stooping his head though -there is no occasion whatever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, by following deep gullies and crawling -over open ledges, we reach points commanding -the various bays; and with the utmost caution -peer over or round the rocks. And whereas -yesterday, being Sunday, the bays were alive -with seals, disporting themselves freely in full -view of a large party of people who were -staring at them, to-day, being Monday, finds not -a seal visible anywhere, though every one is in -hiding, and absolute silence must have reigned -in the island, ever since the lobster fishers left -in the morning. No matter; the tide is still -ebbing; the true hunter must possess his soul.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And yet this lying prone for hours on a ledge -of exceedingly rough rock must have been -monotonous work for our good friend the Laird. -Under his nose nothing to look at but scraps -of orange lichen and the stray feathers of sea -birds; abroad nothing but the glassy blue sea, -with the pale mountains of Jura rising into the -cloudless sky. At last it seemed to become -intolerable. We could see him undergoing all -sorts of contortions in the effort to wrest -something out of his coat-pocket without raising -any portion of his body above the line of cover. -He himself was not unlike a grey seal in the -shadow of the rock, especially when he twisted -and turned himself about without rising an inch -from the surface. And in time he succeeded. -We could see him slowly and carefully unfold -that newspaper—probably not more than a -week old—just beneath his face. He had no -need of spectacles: his eyes were almost -touching the page. And then we knew that he was -at rest; and the hard rock and the seals all -forgotten. For we took it that this local paper -was one which had written a most important -leading article about the proposed public park -for Strathgovan, calling upon the ratepayers to -arise and assert their rights and put a check on -the reckless extravagance of the Commissioners. -The Laird himself was openly pointed at as -one who would introduce the luxury of the later -Romans into a sober Scotch community; and -there were obscure references to those who -seemed to consider that a man's dwelling-house -should become nothing more nor less than a -museum of pictures and statues, while they -would apply taxes raised from a hard-working -population in the adornment of places of -recreation for the idle. But do you think that -the Laird was appalled by this fierce onslaught? -Not a bit of it. He had read and re-read it -to us with delight. He had triumphantly -refuted the writer's sophistries; he had exposed -his ignorance of the most elementary facts in -political economy; he was always rejoiced to -appear before Tom Galbraith and Mary Avon -as one who was not afraid to suffer for his -championship of art. And then, when he had -triumphed over his enemy, he would fold the -paper with a sort of contented sigh; and -would say with a compassionate air, "Poor -crayture! poor crayture!" as if the poor -crayture could not be expected to know any -better.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last—at last! The Laird makes frantic -gestures with his newspaper—all the more -frantic that they have to be strictly lateral, -and that he dare not raise his hand. And -behold! far away out there on the still, blue -surface, a smooth round knob, shining and -black. Without a muscle moving, eager eyes -follow that distant object. The seal is not -alarmed or suspicious; he sails evenly onward, -seldom looking to right or left. And when he -disappears there is no splash; he has had -enough of breathing; he is off for his hunting -in the deep seas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What is more, he remains there. We catch -no further trace of him, nor of any other living -thing around those deserted bays. Human -nature gives in. The Youth gets up, and -boldly displays himself on a promontory, his -gun over his shoulder. Then the Laird, seeing -that everything is over, gets up too, yawning -dreadfully, and folds his newspaper, and puts it -in his pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along!" he calls out. "It is no use. -The saints have taught the seals tricks. They -know better than to come near on a working day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so presently the sombre party sets out -again for the other side of the island, where the -gig awaits us. Not a word is said. Cartridges -are taken out; we pick our way through the -long grass and the stones. And when it is -found that Miss Avon has roughed in all that -she requires of her present study, it is gloomily -suggested that we might go back by way of -the other island, that so haply we might secure -the materials for a pigeon pie before returning -to the yacht.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The evening sun was shining ruddily along -the face of the cliffs as we drew near the other -island; and there was no sign of life at all -about the lonely shores and the tall caves. But -there was another story to tell when, the various -guns having been posted, the Youth boldly -walked up to the mouth of the largest of the -caves, and shouted. Presently there were -certain flashes of blue things in the mellow -evening light; and the sharp bang! bang! of -the gun, that echoed into the great hollows. -Hurlingham? That did not seem much of a -Hurlingham performance. There were no -birds standing bewildered on the fallen trap, -wondering whether to rise or not; but there -were things coming whizzing through the air -that resembled nothing so much as rifle bullets -with blue wings. The Youth, it is true, got -one or two easy shots at the mouth of the cave; -but when the pigeons got outside and came -flashing over the heads of the others, the -shooting was, on the whole, a haphazard -business. Nevertheless, we got a fair number -for Master Fred's larder, after two of the men -had acted as retrievers for three-quarters of an -hour among the rocks and bushes. Then away -again for the solitary vessel lying in the silent -loch, with the pale mists stealing over the -land, and the red sun sinking behind the Jura -hills.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again, after dinner, amid the ghostly greys -of the twilight, we went forth on another -commissariat excursion, to capture fish. -Strange to say, however, our Doctor, though -he was learned on the subject of flies and -tackle, preferred to remain on board: he had -some manuscript to send off to London. -And his hostess said she would remain too; -she always has plenty to do about the saloon. -Then we left the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> and rowed -away to the rocks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the following conversation, as we -afterwards heard, took place in our absence:—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wished very much to speak to you," -said Angus Sutherland, to his hostess, without -making any movement to bring out his desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought so," said she; not without a -little nervous apprehension.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then she said quickly, before he could -begin—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me tell you at once, Angus, that I -have spoken to Mary. Of course, I don't -wish to interfere; I wouldn't interfere for the -world; but—but I only asked her, lest there -should be any unpleasant misapprehension, -whether she had any reason to be offended -with you. 'None in the least,' she said. -She was most positive. She even seemed to -be deeply pained by the misunderstanding; -and—and wished me to let you know; so you -must dismiss that from your mind any way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He listened thoughtfully, without saying -anything. At last he said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have determined to be quite frank -with you. I am going to tell you a secret—if -it is a secret——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have guessed it," she said, quickly, to -spare him pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought so," he said, quite quietly. -"Well; I am not ashamed of it. I have no -reason to be ashamed of it. But, since you -know, you will see that it would be very -embarrassing for me to remain longer on -board the yacht if—if there was no hope——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned over the leaves of a guide-book -rapidly, without looking at them; the -hard-headed Doctor had not much command over -himself at this moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you have guessed, why not she?" he -said, in a somewhat hurried and anxious -manner. "And—and—if I am to go, better -that I should know at once. I—I have -nothing to complain of—I mean I have -nothing to reproach her with—if it is a -misfortune, it is a misfortune—but—but she used -to be more friendly towards me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These two were silent. What was passing -before their minds? The long summer -nights in the far northern seas, with the glory -dying in the west; or the moonlight walks -on the white deck, with the red star of -Ushinish lighthouse burning in the south; or -the snug saloon below, with its cards, and -candles, and laughter, and Mary Avon singing -to herself the song of Ulva? She sang no -song of Ulva now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary and I are very intimate friends," -says the other deliberately. "I will say -nothing against her. Girls have curious -fancies about such things sometimes. But I -must admit—for you are my friend -too—that I am not surprised you should have -been encouraged by her manner to you at -one time, or that you should wonder a little -at the change."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But even this mild possibility of Mary -Avon's being in the wrong she feels to be -incompatible with her customary championship -of her friend; and so she instantly says—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mind, I am certain of this—that -whatever Mary does, she believes to be right. -Her notion of duty is extraordinarily sensitive -and firm. Once she has put anything before -her as the proper thing to be done, she goes -straight at it; and nothing will turn her aside. -And although there is something about it I -can't quite understand, how am I to -interfere? Interference never does any good. -Why do not you ask her yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean to do so, when I get the chance," -said he, simply. "I merely wished to tell -you that, if her answer is 'No,' it will be -better for me to leave you. Already I fancy -my being on board the yacht is a trouble to -her. I will not be a trouble to her. I can -go. If it is a misfortune, there is no one to -blame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if she says '</span><em class="italics">Yes!</em><span>'" cried his friend; -and there was a wonderful joy in her eyes, -and in her excess of sympathy she caught -his hand for a moment. "Oh, Angus, if -Mary were to promise to be your wife! -What a trip we should have then—we should -take the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> to Stornoway!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was her ultimate notion of human -happiness—sailing the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> up to -Stornoway!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think there is much hope," said -he, rather absently, "from her manner of late. -But anything is better than suspense. If it -is a misfortune, as I say, there is no one to -blame. I had not the least notion that she -knew Mr. Howard Smith in London."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor did she."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stared rather.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They may have met at our house; but -certainly not more than once. You see, -living in a country house, we have to have -our friends down in a </span><em class="italics">staccato</em><span> fashion, and -always by arrangement of a few at a time. -There is no general dropping in to afternoon tea."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He never met her in London?" he repeated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should think not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His uncle, then: did she never see him before?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then what does he mean by treating her -as a sort of familiar friend who was likely to -turn up any time at Denny-mains?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His companion coloured somewhat; for she -had no right to betray confidences.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Laird is very fond of Mary," she said, -evasively. "It is quite beautiful to see those -two together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sate for a little time in silence; and then -begged to be excused—he would go on deck to -smoke. But when, some little time thereafter, -we returned from our brief fishing, the dark -figure walking up and down the deck was not -smoking at all. He paused as the gig was -hauled fast to the gangway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What luck?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About two dozen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All lithe?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About half-a-dozen mackerel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then he assisted Mary Avon to ascend -the small wooden steps. She said "Thank -you!" as she withdrew her hand from his; but -the words were uttered in a low voice; and -she instantly crossed to the companion and went -below. He stayed on deck, and helped to -swing the gig up to the davits.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now something had got into the head of our -Admiral-in-chief that night. She was very -merry; and very affectionate towards Mary. -She made light of her foolish wish to go away -to the south. She pointed out that this -continuous fine weather was only hoarding up -electricity for the equinoctials; and then we -should have a spin!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are not going to let you go, Mary; -that is the long and the short of it. And we -are going to keep hold of Angus, too. He is -not going away yet—no, no. We have something -for him to do. We shall not rest satisfied -until we see him sail the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> into -Stornoway harbour!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="only-a-headache"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ONLY A HEADACHE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Stornoway harbour, indeed! The weather -was laughing at us. The glass had steadily -fallen until it had got about as low as it could -go with decency; and yet this next morning -was more beautiful, and bright, and calm than -ever! Were we to be for ever confined in this -remote Loch of the Burying Place?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Angus! Angus! where are you?" the -Admiral calls out, as she comes up on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here I am," calls out a voice in return, -from the cross-trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She raises her head, and perceives the ruddy-faced -Doctor hanging on by the ratlines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is the fine sailing weather you were -to bring us—eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been looking for it," he replies, as -he comes down the rigging; "and there is not -a breath anywhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," she says, promptly; "I'll tell -you what you must do. You must get everybody -who can handle a gun into the gig and go -away up to the head of the loch there, and -shoot every living thing you can see. Do -you understand? We are on the brink of -starvation! We are perishing! Do you want -us to boil tarred rope into soup?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," he says, humbly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. Away you go. If you can't -bring us any wind to take us into a civilised -place, you must provide us with food; is that -clear enough?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here Captain John comes aft, touching his cap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning mem! I was never seeing -the like of this weather, mem."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want to see any more of it," she -says, sharply. "Did you bring us in here -because there was a convenient place to bury -us in? Do you know that we are dying of -starvation?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, mem!" says Captain John, with a -grin; but looking rather concerned all the -same.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, her attention is quickly called -away by the sound of oars. She turns and -regards this small boat approaching the yacht; -and the more she looks the more do her eyes -fill with astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I declare!" she says, "this is about -the coolest thing I have seen for ages."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For it is Miss Mary Avon who is rowing the -dingay back to the yacht; and her only -companion is the Youth, who is contentedly seated -in the stern, with his gun laid across his -knees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Mr. Smith!" she says, with -the most gracious sarcasm. "Pray don't exert -yourself too much. Severe exercise before -breakfast is very dangerous."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Youth lays hold of the rope; there is a -fine blush on his handsome face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is Miss Avon's fault," he says; "she -would not let me row."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose she expected you to shoot? -Where are the duck, and the snipe, and the -golden plover? Hand them up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you want to see anything in the shape of -game about this coast, you'd better wait till -next Sunday," says he, somewhat gloomily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, after breakfast, we set out for the -shallow head of the loch; and things do not -turn out so badly after all. For we have only -left the yacht some few minutes when there is -a sudden whirring of wings—a call of -"Duck! duck!"—and the Doctor, who is at the bow, -and who is the only one who is ready, fires a -snap-shot at the birds. Much to everybody's -amazement, one drops, and instantly dives. -Then begins an exciting chase. The biorlinn -is sent careering with a vengeance; the men -strain every muscle; and then another cry -directs attention to the point at which the duck -has reappeared. It is but for a second. Though -he cannot fly, he can swim like a fish; and -from time to time, as the hard pulling enables -us to overtake him, we can see him shooting -this way or that through the clear water. Then -he bobs his head up, some thirty or forty yards -off; and there is another snap-shot—the charge -rattling on the water the fifth part of an instant -</span><em class="italics">after</em><span> he disappears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me!" says the Laird; "that bird -will cost us ten shillings in cartridges."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at last he is bagged. A chance shot -happens to catch him before he dives; he is -stretched on the water, with his black webbed -feet in the air; and a swoop of Captain John's -arm brings him dripping into the gig. And -then our natural history is put to the test. -This is no gay-plumaged sheldrake, or -blue-necked mallard, or saw-toothed merganser. -It is a broad-billed duck, of a sooty black and -grey; we begin to regret our expenditure of -cartridges; experiments on the flavour of -unknown sea birds are rarely satisfactory. But -Captain John's voice is authoritative and -definite. "It is a fine bird," he says. And -Master Fred has already marked him for -his own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then among the shallows at the head of -the loch there is many a wild pull after broods -of flappers, and random firing at the circling -curlew. The air is filled with the calling of -the birds; and each successive shot rattles -away with its echo among the silent hills. -What is the result of all this noise and -scramble? Not much, indeed; for right in -the middle of it we are attracted by a strange -appearance in the south. That dark line -beyond the yacht: is it a breeze coming up the -loch? Instantly the chase after mergansers -ceases; cartridges are taken out; the two or -three birds we have got are put out of the -way; and the Laird, taking the tiller ropes, -sits proud and erect. Away go the four oars -with the precision of machinery; and the long -sweep sends the gig ahead at a swinging pace. -Behold! behold! the dark blue on the water -widening! Is it a race between the wind and the -gig as to which will reach the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> first? -"Give me your oar, Fred!" says the -Doctor, who is at the bow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is but a momentary pause. Again -the shapely boat swings along; and with the -measured beat of the oars comes the old -familiar chorus—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">... Cheerily, and all together!</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A long, strong pull together!—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Soon the flowing breeze will blow;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">We'll show the snowy canvas on her—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A long, strong pull together!—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Wafted by the breeze of morn</span></div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">We'll quaff the joyous horn together!—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A long, strong pull together!—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"We'll beat! we'll beat!" cries the Laird, -in great delight. "Give it her, boys! Not -one halfpennyworth o' that wind will we -lose!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bow cleaves the blue water; the foam -hisses away from her rudder. It is a race -of the North against the South. Then the -chorus again—</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">A long, strong pull together!—</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Hurrah! hurrah! As the gig is run -alongside, and guns and birds handed up, that -spreading blue has not quite reached the -yacht; there is no appreciable stir of the lazy -ensign. But there is little time to be lost. -The amateurs swing the gig to the davits, -while the men are getting in the slack of the -anchor chain; the women are incontinently -bundled below, to be out of the way of -flapping sheets. Then, all hands at the halyards! -And by the time the great White Wings are -beginning to spread, the breeze stirs the still -air around us; and the peak sways gently this -way and that; and they who are hard at work -at the windlass are no doubt grateful for this -cool blowing from the south. Then there is -a cessation of noise; we become vaguely aware -that we are moving. At last the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -has spread her wings; her head is turned -towards the south. Good-bye! you lonely -loch, with the silent shores and the silent -tombs—a hundred farewells to you, wherever -we may be going!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And slowly we beat down the loch, against -this light southerly breeze. But as we get -further and further into the open, surely there -is something in the air and in the appearance -of the southern sky that suggests that the -glass has not been falling for nothing. The -sea is smooth; but there is a strange gloom -ahead of us; and beyond the islands that we -visited yesterday nothing is visible but a wan -and sultry glare. Then, afar, we can hear a -noise as of the approach of some storm; but -perhaps it is only the low sound of the -swirling of the tides round the shores. Presently -another sound attracts attention—a murmured -hissing, and it comes nearer and nearer; dark -spots, about the size of a threepenny-piece, -appear on the white decks. The women have -scarcely time to send below for their sunshades -when the slight shower passes by—the decks -are not even left damp. Then further and -further we creep away towards the south; -but where we expected to catch some far -glimpse of the Irish coast—the blue line of -Rathlin or the Antrim cliffs—there is only -that dim, sultry haze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then another sound—a dull </span><em class="italics">flop! flop!</em><span>—in -the distance; and the stragglers who have -remained below after luncheon are hastily -summoned on deck. And there, far away in -the haze, we can dimly descry the successive -curved forms of a school of dolphins, racing -each other, and springing twenty or thirty feet -in the air before they come down with that -heavy thud on the water. Those of us who -have watched the beautiful lithe fish racing and -chasing by the side of an Atlantic vessel, would -fain have been somewhat nearer; but we can -only see the dim forms springing into the haze. -Then the dull pistol-shots in the south slowly -cease, and we are left alone on the low -murmuring sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But where is Miss Mary?" says the Laird, -suddenly becoming aware of the absence of -his chief companion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she is in the saloon!" says his hostess, -quickly and anxiously. "She is doing -something to one of her water-colours. I suppose -we must not disturb her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no; certainly not," returns the Laird, -lightly; and then he adds, with a smile which -is meant to be very significant, "There is never -any harm in hard work. Let her go on; she -will have a fine collection of sketches before -she leaves the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But our Queen Tita does not respond to that -careless joke. There is a curious, constrained -look on her face; and she quite peremptorily -negatives a suggestion of the Youth that he -should go below for the draught-board. Then -one of us perceives that Angus Sutherland is -not on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Has the opportunity come at last, then, for -the clearing away of all secret troubles? What -end is there to be to this momentous interview? -Is it Stornoway harbour? Is our frank-eyed -young Doctor to come up with a silent wonder -and joy on his face—a message that needs no -speech—a message that only says, "About with -the yacht, and let us run away to the northern -seas and Stornoway?" The friend of these -two young people can hardly conceal her -anxiety. She has got hold of the case of an -opera glass, and opens and shuts it quickly and -aimlessly. Then there is a step on the -companion way; she does not look; she only -knows that Angus Sutherland comes on deck, -and then goes forward to the bow of the -gig, and stands by himself, and looks out -to sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is silence on board; for a low rumble -of thunder has been heard once or twice, and -we are listening. The mountains of Jura are -dark now, and the sultry mist in the south is -deeper in its gloom. This condition of the -atmosphere produces a vague sense of -something about to happen, which is in itself -uncomfortable; one would almost like to see -a flash of lightning, or hear the thunderous -advance of a storm breaking in upon the -oppressive calm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird goes forward to Angus Sutherland.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Doctor, and what think ye of the -weather now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The younger man starts and turns round, -and for a second looks at the Laird as if he -had not quite comprehended the question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes!" he says. "You are quite right. -It does look as if we were going to have a -dirty night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with that he turns to the sea again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aye," says the Laird, sententiously. "I -am glad we are in a boat we need have no -fear of—none! Keep her away from the -shore, and we are all right. But—but I -suppose we will get into some harbour to-night, -after all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It does not matter," he says, absently; and -then he goes away up to the bow. He is alone -there; for the men have gone below for -dinner—with the exception of John of Skye, who is -at the helm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the special friend of the young -man puts aside that opera-glass case, and walks -timidly forward to the bow of the yacht. She -regards him somewhat anxiously; but his face -is turned away from her—looking over to the -gloomy Jura hills.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Angus," she says, briskly, "are we not -going very near Jura, if it is West Loch -Tarbert we are making for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned to her then, and she saw by his -face that something had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have spoken to her, Angus?" she -said, in a low voice; and her earnest, kind -eyes regarded the young man as if to anticipate -his answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a second or so he seemed disinclined to -say more; but presently he added, scarcely -looking at her—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry that I must leave you the first -time we get near land."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Angus!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was almost a cry—uttered in that low, -piteous voice. Then he looked at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have been very kind to me," said he, -so that no one should hear. "It is only a -misfortune. But I wish I had never seen the -</span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Angus; don't say that!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is my own fault. I should never have -come from Edinburgh. I knew that. I knew -I was hazarding everything. And she is not -to blame——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He could say no more, for one or two of the -men now came up from the forecastle. His -hostess left him and went aft, with a hurt and -indignant look on her face. When the Laird -asked why Miss Mary did not come on deck, -she said, "I don't know," with an air which -said she had ceased to take any further care -in Mary Avon's actions. And at dinner, what -heed did she pay to the fact that Mary Avon -was rather white, and silent, and pained-looking? -She had been disappointed. She had -not expected the friend of her bosom to act -in this heartless manner. And as for Howard -Smith, she treated that young gentleman with -a cold courtesy which rather astonished him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After dinner, when the men folk had gone -on deck, and when she was preparing to go -too, a timid, appealing hand was laid on her arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would like to speak to you," said the low -voice of Mary Avon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she turned—only for a second.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I know enough of what has happened, -Mary," said she; "and it would not be -right for me to intermeddle. Young people are -the best judges of their own affairs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The appealing hand was withdrawn; the girl -retired to the saloon, and sate down alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But here, on deck, an eager council of war -was being held; and Angus Sutherland was as -busy as any one with the extended chart—the -soundings barely visible in the waning light—and -proposals and counter proposals were being -freely bandied about. Night was coming on; -dirty-looking weather seemed to be coming up -from the south; and the mouth of West Loch -Tarbert is narrow and shallow in parts, and -studded with rocks—a nasty place to enter in -the dark. Moreover, when should we get -there, beating against this south-easterly wind? -What if we were to put her head round, and -run for some improvised harbour among the -small islands under the shadow of the Jura -hills, and wait there for daylight to show us -across the Sound?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was but one dissentient. Angus -Sutherland seemed oddly anxious to get to -West Loch Tarbert. He would himself take -the helm all night; if only the men would -take their turn at the look-out, one at a time. -He was sure he could make the channel, if we -reached the mouth of the loch before daylight. -What! with nothing shallower on the chart -than four fathoms! How could there be any -danger?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the more prudent counsels of John of -Skye at length prevail, and there is a call to the -men forward to stand by. Then down goes -the helm; her head slews round with a rattling -of blocks and cordage; the sheets of the head-sails -are belayed to leeward; and then, with the -boom away over the starboard davits, we are -running free before this freshening breeze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the night is dark as we cautiously creep -in under the vast shadows of the Jura hills. -Fortunately in here the wind is light; the -</span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> seems to feel her way through the -gloom. All eyes are on the look-out; and -there is a general shout as we nearly run on -a buoy set to mark a sunken ship. But we -glide by in safety; and in due course of time -the roar of the anchor chain tells us that we -are snug for the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But where is Miss Mary?" says the Laird, -in the cheerfully-lit saloon. He looks around -him in an uncomfortable and unsettled way. -The saloon is not the saloon when Mary Avon -is out of it; here is her chair next to his as -usual, but it is vacant. How are we to spend -the last happy hour of chatting and joking -without the pleased, bright face, and the timid, -gentle, shy, dark eyes?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary has gone to her cabin," says her -hostess. "I suppose she has a headache."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She supposes the girl has a headache, and -has not asked! And can it be really Mary -Avon that she is speaking of in that cold, hurt, -offended way?</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="in-the-dark"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">IN THE DARK.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And then the next morning the Laird is -infinitely distressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! not better yet?" he says. "Dear -me! I wish I could be a woman for a while, to -take some tea in to her, and read to her, and -coax her into better spirits. What a bad -headache it must be!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this generous sympathy on the part of -one who is little more than an acquaintance -touches the heart of Mary Avon's particular -friend. She reproaches herself for her cruelty. -She not only gets the tea and takes it into the -cabin, but she adopts a domineering tone, and -declares that until the young lady begins her -breakfast she will not leave the place. And -then she looks at the timid, worn face; and her -hand is placed gently on the hand of her friend, -and she says in a lower voice—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary, don't think I am angry. I am only -a little bit disappointed. But I don't blame -you—you could not help it. It is a pity; that -is all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl's face remains rather sad; but she -is quite self-possessed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will let me go away," she says, looking -down, "when we get to some harbour?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no need," says her friend, regarding -her. "Angus will leave us to-day, as soon -as we get across to Cantyre."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" she said, quickly, and looking tip -with a brief appeal in her eyes. "I hope not! -Why should he go away? I must go; I would -rather go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, Mary!" her friend said. "If there -is any 'must' in the matter, it is on his side; -for you know his time is very valuable, and you -must have guessed why he has already far -exceeded what he proposed to himself as his -holiday. No, no, Mary; let us forget what -has happened as soon as we can, and make the -best of the rest of our sailing. The Laird -would have a fit if you seriously threatened -to go. And I am sure you are not to blame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So she kissed her on the cheek, by way of -reconciliation, and left. And she told the Laird -that Mary had been dutiful, and had taken -some breakfast, and would be up on deck in -course of time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, those who had gone on deck had -found the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> lying in a dead calm, -some three miles away from her anchorage of -the previous night; her sails hanging limp; a -scorching sun on the white decks, and a glare -of light coming from the blue sky and the -glassy blue sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Angus," says his hostess, very -merrily—for she does not wish to let the -others guess the reason of his sudden -departure; "you see the weather does not -approve of your leaving us. What has -become of your thunderstorm? Where is -the gale from the south, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was never seeing the like of this weather, -mem," said the bearded skipper. Then he -added, anxiously, "And is Dr. Sutherland -himself going away from the yat?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He would like to," she says; "but how is -he ever to see land again if you banish the -wind so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it will no be like this long!" says -Captain John, eagerly—for he appears to -think that Dr. Sutherland has got tired of the -fine weather. "Oh, no, mem! I will answer -for it. If Dr. Sutherland will wait another day, -or two days, I am sure there will be plenty of -wind. And we can lie in West Loch Tarbert -for one day, or two days——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And starve?" she says, abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now it appears that one or two of the -men have heard of a mysterious village lying -somewhere inland from the mouth of the loch; -and from a comparison of these vague rumours -we gather that we may not be so far from</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>civilisation after all. Perhaps we may once -again behold loaf-bread. Visions of cutlets, -fowls, grouse, and hares arise. We shall once -more hear some echo of the distant world -if perchance there be in the place a worn and -ancient newspaper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay," said the Laird, hastily. "I would like -to see a Glasgow newspaper! I'm thinking -they must have got the steam fire-engine by -now; and fine games the bairns will have when -they begin to practise with it, skelping about in -the water. It would be a grand thing to try it -in the public garden when we get it; it would -keep the shrubs and the borders fine and wet—eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And it would be quite as interesting as -any plaster fountain," says his hostess, -encouragingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As handsome every bit," says the Laird, -laughing heartily at his play of imagination, -"as any bit laddie done up in stucco, standing -on one leg, and holding up a pipe! It's a -utilitarian age, ma'am—a utilitarian age; we -will have instead of a fountain a steam -fire-engine—very good! very good!—and they -bodies who are always crying out against -expenditure on decoration will be disappointed -for once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird had at last discovered the whereabouts -of the mysterious village on the -Admiralty chart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what newspaper will we get in a place -hidden away like that?—out of the reach of all -communication wi' the world. They'll be a -century behind, mark my words. It is when -ye live within a reasonable distance of a great -centre of ceevilisation, like Glasgow, that ye feel -the life of it stirring your own place too; and -ye must keep up with the times; ye must be -moving. Conservative as I am, there is no -supersteetious obstinacy about me; -moving—moving—that's the word. The more important -the matter in the interest of the public, the -more necessary is it that we should have an -impartial mind. If ye show me a new sort of -asphalte, do ye think I would not examine it, -jist because I recommended Jamieson and -MacGregor's patent?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He appealed boldly to his hostess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, certainly; certainly you would!" she -says, with an earnestness that might have made -Jamieson and MacGregor quail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For three weeks," says the Laird, solemnly, -"I was on that committee, until it seemed that -my breakfast, and my dinner, and my supper -every day was nothing but tar-smoke. What -wi' the experiments without and within, I was -just filled with tar-smoke. And would ye -believe it, ma'am, one o' they Radical newspapers -went as far as to say there were secret -influences at work when Jamieson and -MacGregor was decided on. My friends said, -'Prosecute the man for libel;' but I said, -'No; let the poor crayture alone; he has got -to earn his living!'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was very wise of you, sir," says his -hostess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless me! If a man in public life were to -heed everything that's said about him," observes -the Laird, with a fine air of unconcern, "what -would become of his time? No, no; that is -not the principle on which a public man should -found his life. Do your best for your -fellow-creatures, and let the squabblers say what they -like. As ah say, the poor wretches have to earn -their living."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here Mary Avon appeared, somewhat pale -and tired-looking; and the Laird instantly went -to condole with her, and to get her a deck chair, -and what not. At the same moment, too, our -young Doctor came along—perhaps with a -brave desire to put an end to her embarrassment -at once—and shook hands with her, and -said "Good morning; I hope your headache is -better." Her hand was trembling as it fell -away from his; and her " Yes, thank you," was -almost inaudible. Then she sate down, and the -Laird resumed his discourse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was once taken," said he, "by a fellow -commissioner of mine to a sort of singing place, -or music hall, in Glasgow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They wanted to have some such place in -Strathgovan," continued the Laird, paying no -heed; "and I was asked to go and see what -sort of entertainment was provided in such -places. It was a sorrowful sight, ma'am—a -sorrowful sight; the wretched craytures on the -stage laughing at their own songs, and the -people not laughing at all, but given over to -tobacco smoking, and whisky, and talking -amongst themselves. No glint of humour—stupid, -senseless stuff. But there was one -young man sung a song that had a better sound -in it—I cannot remember the words—but I -sometimes think there was common sense in -them: it was about minding your own business, -and doing your own work, and letting fools say -or think of ye what they please. Aye, I think -there was something in that young man; though -I doubt, by the look of his eyes, but he was a -drinker."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned to Mary Avon, who had been -content to be a mute and unobserved listener.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Miss Mary," said he, brightly, "and -the headache is going? And are ye looking -forward to getting letters and newspapers -when we get back to the world? There is -a post-office at that village of Clachan, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, aye, sir!" said John; "there will be -a post-office."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird looked up at him reproachfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why cannot ye learn the English -pronunciation, man? What's the necessity for -ye to say </span><em class="italics">posht offus</em><span>? Cannot ye pronounce -the plain English—</span><em class="italics">post oafficc</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not very good at the English, sir," -said Captain John, with a grin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye'll never learn younger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he went to Mary Avon, and suggested -that a walk up and down the deck might do -her headache good; and when she rose he -put her hand on his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," said he, as they started off, "I do -not like headaches in young people; they are -not natural. And ye may think I am very -inqueesitive; but it is the privilege of old -men to be talkative and inqueesitive—and I -am going to ask you a question."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was certainly no effort at keeping -a secret on the part of the Laird; every one -might have heard these two talking as they -quietly walked up and down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going to ask ye, plump and plain, -if ye are not anxious about going to London, -and worrying yourself about the selling of -your pictures? There now; answer me that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not very much, sir," she says, in a low voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen to me," he said, speaking in a -remarkably emphatic way. "If that is on -your mind, dismiss it. I tell you what: I -will undertake, on my own responsibeelity, -that every painting in oil, and every sketch -in oil, and every water-colour drawing, and -every sketch in water-colour that ye have on -board this yacht, will be sold within one -fortnight of your leaving the yacht. Do ye -understand that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are very kind, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not bletherin'," said he; "no man -ever knew me draw back from my word. So -put that anxiety away from your mind -altogether, and let us have no more troubles. I -could sell—I could sell four times as many -for ye in a fortnight! Bless ye, lassie, ye do -not know the people in the West of Scotland -yet—ye'll know them better by and by. If -there's one thino- thev understand better than -another it is a good picture; and they are -ready to put their hand in their pocket. Oh! they -Edinburgh bodies are very fine creetics—they -have what they believe to be an elegant -society in Edinburgh—and they talk a great -deal about pictures; but do they put their -hand in their pocket? Ask Tom Galbraith. -Ask him where he sets three-fourths of his -income. He lives in Edinburgh; but he gets -his income from the West of Scotland. Tom's -a wise lad. He knows how to feather his -nest. And when he has become independent -of the picture-dealers, then he'll go to London, -and fight the men there on their own ground."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to see some of Mr. Galbraith s -work," she said, "before I return to England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will have plenty of leisure to look -at them by and by," replied the Laird, quite -simply. "I have some of Tom's very best -things at Denny-mains."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not until the cool of the afternoon that -a light breeze sprung up to fill the sails of the -</span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>, and press her gently on towards -the coast of Cantyre. By this time every one -on board knew that Angus Sutherland was -leaving, and leaving for good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope ye will come and see me at Denny-mains, -Dr. Sutherland," said the Laird, good-naturedly, -"when ye happen to be in Scotland. -I have a neighbour there ye would be glad to -meet—a man who could talk to ye on your -own subjects—Mr. Stoney."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our Doctor paid but little heed. He was -silent, and distraught. His eyes had an -absent and heavy look in them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A most distinguished man," the Laird -continued. "I am told his reputation in -England is just as great as it is in this -country. A very distinguished man indeed. -He read a paper before the British Association -not many years ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About what, do you remember?" said the -other, at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"H'm!" said the Laird, apparently puzzling -his memory. "Ye see, a man in my poseetion -has so much to do with the practical business -of life, that perhaps he does not pay just -attention to the speculations of others. But -Mr. Stoney is a remarkable man; I am -astonished ye should have forgotten what the -paper was about. A most able man, and a -fine, logical mind; it is just beautiful to hear -him point out the close fitness between the -charges in the major proposeetion in the -Semple case, and the averments and extracts -in the minor. Ye would be greatly delighted -and instructed by him, Doctor. And there's -another thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here the Laird looked slyly at Mary Avon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's a young leddy here who has a -secret of mine; and I'm thinking she has not -said much about it. But I will make a public -confession now: it has been on my mind for -some time back that I might buy a screw -yacht."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird looked triumphantly around; he -had forgotten that it was a very open secret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And wouldn't it be a strange thing if -this very party, just as we are sitting now, -were to be up at this very spot next year, on -board that yacht?—wouldn't that be a strange -thing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be a jolly pleasant thing," said -the Youth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are very kind to include me in the -invitation," said Angus Sutherland; "but I -doubt whether I shall ever be in Scotland -again. My father is a very old man now; -that is the only thing that would call me north. -But I think I could q-et on better with my -own work by going abroad for some years -to Naples, probably. I have to go to Italy -before long, any way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke in a matter-of-fact way; we did -not doubt that he might pursue his researches -better in Naples.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was in the dusk of the evening that we -slowly sailed into West Loch Tarbert—past -a series of rocks and islands on which, as we -were given to understand, seals were more -abundant than limpets. But whereas the last -haunt of the seals we had visited had -introduced us to a solitary and desolate loch, with -sterile shores and lonely ruins, this loch, so -far as we could see, was a cheerful and in- -habited place, with one or two houses shining -palely white amid the dark woods. And when -v/e had come to anchor, and sent ashore, -although there were no provisions to be got, -the men returned with all the necessary -information for Angus Sutherland. By getting -up very early next morning, and walking a -certain distance, he would catch a certain -coach, which would take him on to Tarbert -on Loch Fyne in time to catch the steamer. -And so that nicrht, before we turned in to -our respective cabins, the Doctor bade us all -formally good-bye; and Mary Avon among -the rest. No one could have noticed the -least difference in his manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in the middle of the night, in the ladies' -cabin, a sound of stifled sobbing. And the -other woman goes over to the berth of her -companion, and bends her head down, and -whispers—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary, why are you crying? Tell me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She cannot speak for a time; her whole -frame is shaken with the bitter-sobs. And -then she says, in a low, trembling, broken -voice—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has not forgiven me. I saw it in his face."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="to-absent-friends"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">TO ABSENT FRIENDS!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning, however, every one -perceived an extraordinary change in the -appearance and manner of the girl. Mary -Avon had come back to us again, with all -the light and life of her face, and the -contented gentleness of the soft black eyes. -What had wrought the transformation? -Certain confidential assurances in the silence of -the night that Angus Sutherland, so far from -not forgiving her, had insisted that she was -not to blame at all. Or the natural reaction -after a long strain of anxiety? Or merely -the welcome fresh breeze of the morning, with -the cheerful, wooded shores, and the white -houses shining in the sunlight? Any how there -was quite a new expression in her face; and -we heard the low, sweet laugh again. It is -true that, once or twice, as she walked up and -down the deck with the Laird, her eyes grew -pensive as she looked away along the hills -on the southern shores of the loch. That was -the direction in which Angus had left in the -morning. And these hills were somewhat -overcast; it seemed to be raining inland.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Moreover, there was something else to make -our breakfast party a glad one. The two men -who had rowed our young Doctor across the -loch at break of day had had the curiosity to -pierce inland as far as the village of Clachan; -and the scouts had brought back the most -glowing accounts of the Promised Land which -they had discovered. They had penetrated a -fertile and deeply-wooded valley; and they -had at length come upon a centre of the -highest civilisation. There was a post-office. -There was a telegraph-office. There -was a church, the clock of which struck the -hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just fancy that!" exclaimed our hostess. -"A clock that strikes the hours!—and a -telegraph-office! We might send a telegram -to ask whether the country has been invaded -anywhere, or whether the Prime Minister has -committed suicide."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would like to hear about the steam -fire-engine," said the Laird almost to himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However, breeze or no breeze, seals or no -seals," she says, with decision, "we must stay -over a day here, to have the yacht thoroughly -provisioned. We cannot go on skating on -the edge of tinned meats. We must have a -plentiful supply of fresh vegetables, and fresh -milk, and eggs and butter; and then two or -three joints are always so serviceable—cold, -I mean, for luncheon; and if Fred cannot get -any game, at least he must get us some fowls. -What do you say, Mary? Shall we walk over -to this place, and clear the way for Fred?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no!" says the other, lightly; "you -and I are going with the seal shooters. They -never get near anything; so we cannot be in -the way. I assure you, sir, we shall be as -quiet as mice," she adds, addressing the -Laird.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye will come with us, and ye will speak -just as much as ye please," said the Laird, -dogmatically. "What signifies a seal? The -crayture is good for nothing! And the idea -of you two going away by yourselves into the -country! No—no; come away and get ready, -Howard. If ye cannot shoot a seal with the -two leddies in the boat, ye will never do it -without. And the sea breezes, Miss Mary," -he added, with an approving air, "are better -for ye than the land breezes. Oh, aye; ye -are looking just fine this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A short time thereafter he was on deck, -looking around him at the pleasant trees and -the blue waters, when Miss Avon joined him, -fully equipped for the expedition; and just -at this moment they began to hear a sound -of music in the stillness of the morning air. -And then they perceived a rude old rowing-boat, -pulled by a small boy of twelve or so, -coming nearer and nearer; while another small -boy of about the same age was peacefully -reclining in the stern, his head thrown back -so that it met the full glare of the morning -sun, while he played vigorously but rather -inaccurately "The Campbells are coming" on -a tin whistle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at that!" said the Laird with -delight; "is not that perfect happiness? Look -at his pride and laziness—having another boy -to pull him about, while he shows off on the -penny whistle. Dear me, I wish I was that -young rascal!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He seems happy enough," she said, with a sigh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is because he does not know it," -remarked the Laird, profoundly. "If you -proved to him that he was happy, it would -immediately vanish."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You cannot be consciously happy; but -you may be consciously unhappy—that is -rather hard," said she, absently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, these two philosophers were -withdrawn from this occult point by a summons -from the Youth, who had already got the rifles -and cartridges into the bow of the gig. And, -indeed, as we rowed away from the yacht, in -the direction of the rocks at the mouth of the -loch, Miss Avon seemed determined to prove -that, consciously or unconsciously, she was -happy enough. She would not even allow -that Angus Sutherland could have felt any -pang of regret at leaving the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -and his friends.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor chap!" said the Laird, with some -compassion, as he turned his head and looked -away towards those gloomy hills; "it must -have been a lonesome journey for him this -morning. And he so fond of sailing too; -I'm thinking when he saw what a nice breeze -there was, he was rather sorry to go away. -I should not wonder if it was wi' a heavy -heart that he went on board the steamer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, sir! why should you think that?" -said Mary Avon, quickly and anxiously. "If -Dr. Sutherland had nothing to consider but -yachting, he might have been sorry to go -away. But think what lies before him; think -what calls him! Look at the position he has -won for himself already, and what is expected -of him! and you would have him throw away -his splendid opportunities in yachting? There -is not a University in Europe where he is not -known; there is not a man of science in -Europe who does not expect great things of -him; and—and—how proud his father must -be of him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke eagerly and almost breathlessly; -there was a pink flush in her cheek, but it was -not from shamefacedness. She seemed -desperately anxious to convince the Laird that our -Doctor ought to have left the yacht, and must -have left the yacht, and could not do anything -else but leave the yacht. Meanwhile, her -friend and hostess regarded her curiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A man with such capacities as he has," -continued the girl, warmly, "with such a great -future before him, owes it to himself that he -should not give way to mere sentiment. The -world could not get on at all if people—I -mean if the great people, from whom we -expect much—were always to be consulting -their feelings. Perhaps he was sorry to leave -the yacht. He does like sailing; and—and I -think he liked to be among friends. But what -is that when he knows there is work in the -world for him to do? If he was sorry at -leaving the yacht, you may depend on it that -that had passed away before he stepped on -board the steamer. For what was that trifling -sentiment compared with the consciousness that -he had acted rightly?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something about the precision of these -phrases—for the girl but rarely gave way to -such a fit of earnest talking—seemed to -suggest to the silent person who was watching -her, that this was not the first time the -girl had thought of these things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Idle people," said this youthful controversialist, -"can afford to indulge in sentiment; but -not those who have to do great things in the -world. And it is not as if—Dr. Sutherland"—she -always faltered the least bit just before -pronouncing the name—"were only working -for his own fame or his own wealth. It is for -the good of mankind that he is working; and -if he has to make this or that sacrifice, he -knows that he is doing right. What other -reward does a man need to have?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am thinking of the poor old man in -Banffshire," said her friend to her, thoughtfully. -"If Angus goes away to Italy for some years, -they may not see each other again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this the girl turned strangely pale, and -remained silent; but she was unnoticed, for -at this moment all attention was attracted -towards the seals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There they were, no doubt, and in large -numbers. We could see the occasionally -moving forms, scarcely distinguishable from -the brown sea-weed, on the long projecting -points of the low rocks; while here and there -one of the animals could be made out, poising -himself in a semi-circle—head and tail in the -air—like a letter O with the upper four-fifths -cut off. But the problem was, how to get -anywhere within shot. The rocks, or small -islands, had no doubt certain eminences in -the middle; but they were low and shallow -all round. Obviously it was no use bearing -straight down on them from our present -position; so it was resolved to give them a -wide berth, to pull away from the islands -altogether, and then approach them from the -south, if haply there might in this wise be -some possibility of shelter. It was observed -that Queen Titania, during these whispered -and eager consultations, smiled gravely and -was silent. She had been in the Highlands -before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seals are foolish animals. We were half a -mile away from them; and we were going still -farther away. The rocking of the water made -it impossible for us to try a haphazard shot -even if we had had a rifle that would have -carried anything like 800 yards with precision. -There was not the least reason for their being -alarmed. But all the same, as we silently -and slowly paddled away from them—actually -away from them—the huge bodies one by one -flopped and waddled and dropped into the -water with a splash. In about a minute or -so there was not a seal visible through our -best binoculars. And Queen Titania calmly -smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, as everybody knows, there are two -sides to an island, as to everything else. So -we boldly bore down on the shores nearest -us, and resolved, on getting close, on a cautious -and silent landing. After many a trial we -found a creek where the stern of the gig could -be backed into fairly deep water, along a -ledge of rock, and then two of us got out. -The ladies produced their knitting materials.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With much painful stooping and crawling, -we at length reached the middle ridge, and -there laid down our rifles to have a preliminary -peep round. That stealthy glance revealed -the fact that, on the other side also, the seals -had been alarmed and had left the rocks; but -still they were not far away. We could see -here and there a black and glistening head -moving among the lapping waters. Of course -it would have been madness to have risked -our all on a random shot at sea. Hit or miss, -the chances were about equal we should not -get the seal; so we quietly retired again -behind the ridge, and sate down. We could -see the gig and its occupants. It seemed to -one of us at least that Queen Titania was -still amused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A dead silence: while we idly regard the -washed-up stores of sea-shells around us, and -patiently await the return of the seals to the -rocks. Then a sudden noise that makes one's -heart jump: a couple of terns have discovered -us, and the irate birds go wheeling and shrieking -overhead with screams that would have -aroused the Sleeping Beauty and all her -household. In their fright and wrath they come -nearer and nearer; at times they remain -motionless overhead; but ever continues the -shrill and piercing shriek. The face of the -Youth is awful to see. Again and again he -puts up his rifle; and there is no doubt that, -if he were to fire, he might accomplish that -feat which is more frequently heard of in novels -than elsewhere—shooting a bird on the wing -with a rifle. But then he is loth to throw -away his last chance. With a gesture of -despair, he lowers his weapon, and glances -towards the gig. Queen Titania has caught -his eye, and he hers. She is laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length we venture to hazard everything. -Furtively each rifle is protruded over the ledge -of rock; and furtively each head creeps up by -the stock, the hand on the trigger-guard. The -caution is unnecessary. There is not a sign of -any living thing all around the shores. Even -the two sea-swallows, alarmed by our moving, -have wheeled away into the distance; we are -left in undisturbed possession of the island. -Then the Youth clambers up to the top of the -rocks and looks around. A skart, perched on -a far ledge, immediately takes flight—striking -the water with his heavy wings before he can -get well on his way: thereafter a dead silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was the tern that did that," says the -Youth, moodily, as we return to the gig. "The -seals must have known well enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They generally do contrive to know -somehow," is the answer of one who is not much -disappointed, and who is still less surprised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this wicked woman all a-laughing, when -we return to the gig!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, children," says she, "we shall barely -be back in time for lunch; and we shall be all -the longer that Angus is not here to sing his -'</span><em class="italics">Ho, ro, clansmen!</em><span>' But the quicker the -sooner, as the Highlandman said. Jump in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was all owing to those sea-swallows," -remarks the Youth, gloomily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never mind," says she, with great -equanimity. "Mary and I knew you would not -shoot anything, or we should not have come. -Let us hasten back to see what Fred has shot -for us, with his silver sixpences."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so we tumble into the gig; and push -away, and have a long swinging pull back to -the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is still some measure of justice meted -out upon the earth. The face of this fiend -who has been laughing at us all the morning -becomes a trifle more anxious when she draws -near the yacht. For there is Master Fred -idling up at the bow, instead of being below -looking after the vast stores he has got on -board; and moreover as we draw near, and as -he comes along to the gangway, any one can -perceive that our good Frederick d'or is not -in a facetious frame of mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Fred, have you got a good supply at -last?" she cries, taking hold of the rope, and -putting her foot on the step.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fred mumbles something in reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you got?" she says, when she -is on deck. "Any game?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, mem."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, never mind; the fowls will do very well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fred is rather silent, until he explains that he -could not get any fowls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No fowls? What butcher's meat, then?" -says she, somewhat indignantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None? Nothing?" says she; and a low -titter begins to prevail among the assembled -crowd. "Have you not got a joint of any -sort?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fred is almost unwilling to confess—he is -ashamed, angry, disconcerted. At last he -blurts out—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could get nothing at all, mem, but fower -loaves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this there was a roar of laughter. What -had become of all her fresh milk, and butter, -and eggs; her mutton, and fowls, and cutlets; -her grouse, and snipe, and hares? We did not -care for our privation; we only rejoiced in her -discomfiture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is just like a Scotch village," says -she, savagely; "spending all its money on a -church bell, and not able to keep a decent shop -open! Do you mean to say you could not -get a carrot, or a cabbage, or a pennyworth -of milk?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, mem."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John," she says, in a domineering way, -"why </span><em class="italics">don't</em><span> you get the sails up? What is the -use of staying in a place like this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John comes forward timidly, and stroking -his great beard: he half believes in these -furious rages of hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, mem, if ye please, mem, I will get -the sail set—but—but the tide will be turning -soon, mem, and the wind, she will be against -us as soon as we get out of the loch; and it -will be a long, long time before we get to -Crinan. I not well aquent with this place, -mem: if we were up in our own part of the -Highlands, do you think the people would let -the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> be so long without the fresh -cabbage and the milk? No; I not think that, mem."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But we are not in our own part of the -Highlands," says she, querulously; "and do -you think we are going to starve? However, -I suppose Fred can give us a biscuit. Let us -go below."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our lunch was, in truth, simple enough; -but perhaps it was this indirect appeal to Fred -that determined that worthy to surprise us at -dinner that evening. First of all, after we had -returned from another ineffectual seal-hunt, we -found he had decorated the dinner-table in an -elaborate manner. There was a clean cloth, -shining with the starch in it. There was a -great dish of scarlet rowans in the middle of -the table; and the rowans had a border of -white heather—fathered at Loch-na-Chill: -the rowans were for lovely colour, the heather -was for luck. Then, not content with that, he -had put all our available silver on the table, -including the candlesticks and the snuffer-tray, -though the sun had not yet sunk behind the -Jura hills. But the banquet defies description. -The vast basin of steaming kidney soup, the -boiled lithe, the fried mackerel, the round of -tongue, the corned beef, the tomatoes, the -pickles, the sardines, the convolutions of -pudding and apricot jam: what Fishmonger -or Drysalter or Gunmaker could have wanted -more? Nor was there any Apemantus at the -feast; there was the smiling and benign -countenance of the Laird, who again and again -made facetious remarks about the kirk bell of -Clachan. Then he said more formally—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ladies and gentlemen, I am going to ask -ye to drink a toast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, uncle!" said the Youth deprecatingly; -"we are not at a commissioners' meeting at -Strathgovan."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I will thank ye to fill your glasses," -said the Laird, taking no heed of Young -England and his modern want of manners. "I -have to ask ye, ladies and gentlemen, to drink -the health of one who is an old and valued -friend of some of us, who is admired and -respected by us all. It would ill become us, now -that he has been separated from us but by a -day, that we should forget him in his absence. -We have come in close contact with him; we -have seen his fine qualities of temper and -character; and I am sure no one present will -contradict me when I say that, great as are his -abeelities, they are not more remarkable than -his modesty, and his good humour, and his -simple, plain, frank ways. With a man of less -solid judgment, I might be afraid of certain -dangerous tendencies of these times; but our -friend has a Scotch head on his shoulders; he -may be dazzled by their newfangled speculations, -but not convinced—not convinced. It is -a rare thing—I will say it, though I am but a -recent acquaintance, and do not know him as -well as some now at this hospitable board—to -find such powers of intellect united with such a -quiet and unassuming manliness. Ladies and -gentlemen, I give ye the health of Dr. Angus -Sutherland. We regret that he has gone from -us; but we know that duty calls, and we honour -the man who stands to his guns. It may be -that we may see him in these waters once -more; it may be that we may not; but whatever -may be in store for him or for us, we know -he will be worthy of the hopes we build on -him, and we drink his health now in his -absence, and wish him God-speed!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hear! hear!" cried the Youth, who was -greatly amused by this burst of old-fashioned -eloquence. But Mary Avon sate white and -trembling, and quite forgot to put the glass -to her lips. It was her hostess who spoke -next, with a laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, sir," said she, "I might give you -a hint. If you were to go up on deck and -ask the men whether they would like to drink -Angus's health, I don't think they would -refuse."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a most capital suggestion," said the -Laird, rising to take down his wideawake.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="suspicions"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SUSPICIONS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was handsomely done on the part of -the Laird to pay that tribute to his vanquished -and departed enemy. But next morning, as -we were getting under weigh, he got a chance -of speaking to his hostess alone; and he could -not quite forego a little bit of boasting over -his superior astuteness and prescience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did I say, ma'am," he asked, with -a confident chuckle, "when ye made a -communication to me on the subject of our friend -who has just left us? Did I not offer to -make ye a wager, though I am but little of -a gambler? A gold ring, a sixpence, and -a silver thimble: did I not offer to wager -ye these three articles that your guesses were -not quite correct? And what has become of -Dr. Sutherland now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His hostess is not in this gay humour. She -answers with a touch of reserve—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I made any mistake, it was about Mary. -And I had no right to suspect anything, for -she never took me into her confidence; and -I do not approve of elderly people prying -into the affairs of young people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pry?" says the Laird, loftily and -graciously. "No, no; no prying. But -judgment?—is there any harm in one keeping -one's eyes open? And did not I tell ye, -ma'am, to be of good heart—that everything -would go properly and smoothly?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And has it?" she says, sharply, and looking -up with a glance of indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird, however, is so wrapped up in -his own thoughts that he does not notice this -protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is a fine lass, that," he says, with -decision. "Did ye ever hear a young girl -speak such clear common sense as she spoke -yesterday, about that very Doctor? There -is no affected sentiment—there is nothing of -your Clarinda and Philander noavel-writing—about -that lass: did ye ever hear such good, -sound, clear common sense?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard her," says his hostess, shortly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time we had weighed anchor, and -the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> was slowly sailing down the -loch, before a light northerly breeze. Then -Mary Avon came on deck, followed by the -attentive Youth. And while everybody on -board was eagerly noticing things ahead—the -seals on the rocks at the mouth of the loch, -the windy grey sea beyond, and the blue -mountains of Jura—Mary Avon alone looked -backward, to the low lines of hills we were -leaving. She sate silent and apart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird stepped over to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have just been talking about the -Doctor," says he, cheerfully. "And we were -saying there was plenty of good common sense -in what ye said yesterday about his duties -and his prospects. Oh, ay! But then ye -ken, Miss Mary, even the busiest and the -wisest of men must have their holiday at -times; and I have just been thinking that, -if we can get Dr. Sutherland to come with -us next year, we will, maybe, surprise him -by what ye can do wi' a steam yacht. Why, -during the time we have been lying here, -we might have run across to Ireland and -back in a steam yacht! It is true there -would be less enjoyment for him in the -sailing; but still there are compensations."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His hostess has overheard all this. She -says, in her gentle way, but with a cold and -cruel clearness—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know, sir, that is quite impossible. -Angus will not be in Scotland for many a -day to come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl's face is hidden; apparently she -is still gazing back on those slowly receding -hills.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Toots! toots!" says the Laird, briskly. -"The lad is not a fool. He will make an -occasion if he considers it desirable: there -is no compulsion that he must remain in -Eetaly. I think I would even lay a wager -that we will have just the same party, and -the Doctor included, on that steam yacht next -year, and in this very place: is it a wager, -ma'am?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid you must leave us out," she -remarks, "at all events. And as for Angus -Sutherland, I shall be surprised if ever he -sees West Loch Tarbert again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Why had not Mary Avon spoken? The -Laird went a step nearer her, and put his -hand gently on her shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Miss Mary," said he; "what are -we to do to show these people their lolly -and wickedness—eh? I think I will leave -it to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, sir!" This, or something like -this, she was understood to say, in a low -voice; but at the same moment she rose -quickly, crossed the deck, put a trembling -hand on the companion way, and went below. -Just as she disappeared, she could not quite -conceal her face; and there was a look on -it that startled the Laird. Had the girl -been stealthily crying all the time she had -been looking back at those distant hills?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird was greatly disturbed. He said -nothing, for he would not have it understood -that anything had happened; but any one -could see by his preoccupied manner that he -was seriously troubled. He had directed a -quick, sharp glance of surprise and inquiry -at his hostess; but just then she was stepping -aside to get out of the way of Captain John. -The Laird sate down by himself, and remained -in a profound silence. He seemed to pay no -attention to what was going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was brisk work enough all over -the yacht. For now we had got clear of the -long promontory and its islands; and out here -in the open there was a pretty heavy sea -running, while the wind began to freshen up -a bit. There was a squally look about the -sea and sky; it was considered prudent to -lower the topsail. Now and again there was -a heavy shock at the bows, and then a dipping -of heads to dodge the flying shreds of spray. -In the midst of all this Miss Avon appeared -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought we should catch it," said she, -in the blithest of tones; and she addressed -herself particularly to the Laird. "And it is -better to be prepared. But, oh dear me! what -a nuisance a waterproof is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And indeed the wind was blowing that -hooded and caped garment all about her head, -so that her dark hair was becoming -considerably dishevelled. The Youth came to -her assistance; put a cushion and a shawl for -her just beside her hostess, under the lee of -the weather bulwarks; then she snugly -ensconced herself there, and seemed to be very -merry and happy indeed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you often wish you were a fish, -when the weather is wet?" she says, gaily, -to her friend; "so that you might be perfectly -indifferent?" And here she cries "Oh!" -again, because a drop or two of spray has -come flying past the keel of the gig and just -caught her on the crown of her waterproof.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing can exceed her talk, her laughter, -her cheerfulness. She nestles close to her -friend; she is like a spoiled child; she makes -fun of the Youth's attempts to steer. And -the Laird is regarding her with a grave -wonder—perhaps with some dark suspicion—when -she lightly addresses herself to him again:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what about that strong man, sir? -You were going to tell us the story yesterday, -when you were interrupted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a cunning device. How could a -professed story-teller refuse to rise to the -bait? The watchfulness disappeared from -the face of the Laird: in its place a sort of -anticipatory laughter began to shine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it was Tom Galbraith heard of that -man," said he, in a deprecating way. "Did -I not tell ye? Oh, ay! it was Tom -Galbraith heard of him when he was in -Rossshire; and it was he told me of the wonderful -things that man could do, according to the -natives. Did not I tell ye of his rolling an -enormous stone up a hill, and of the stone -being split into nine pieces; yet not any one -man could roll up one of the nine pieces? -But I was going to tell ye of his being in -Prince's Street, Edinburgh; and a coach and -four was coming whirling along; the horses -had run away, and no one could stop them. -M'Kinlay was walking along the street, when -the people called to him to look out, for the -four horses were running mad; but the -Rossshire Samson was not afraid. No, no——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here a wisp of spray somewhat disconcerted -the Laird; but only for a moment. He wiped -the salt water from the side of his neck, and -continued, with suppressed laughter bubbling -up in his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The man that told Tom Galbraith," said -he, "was a solemn believer, and spoke with -reverence. 'M'Kinlay,' says he, 'he will turn -to the street, and he will grab at the four -horses and the coach, and he will took them -up in his two hands—</span><em class="italics">shist like a mice</em><span>.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Shist like a mice.</em><span>" The Laird preserved -a stern silence. The humour of this story -was so desperately occult that he would leave -the coarse applause to us. Only there was -an odd light in his eyes; and we knew that -it was all he could do to prevent his bursting -out into a roar of laughter. But Mary Avon -laughed—until John of Skye, who had not -heard a word, grinned out of pure sympathy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He must have been the man," said Miss -Avon, diffidently—for she did not like to -encroach on the Laird's province—"whom -Captain John told me about, who could drink -whisky so strong that a drop of it would -burn a white mark on a tarred rope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Laird was not jealous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good—very good!" he cried, with -extreme delight. "Excellent—a real good -one! 'Deed I'll tell that to Tom Galbraith!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the high spirits and the facetiousness -of these two children continued through lunch. -That was rather a wild meal, considering that -we were still sawing across the boisterous -Sound of Jura, in the teeth of a fresh northerly -breeze. However, nothing could exceed the -devotion of the Youth, who got scarcely any -luncheon at all in his efforts to control the -antics of pickle jars and to bolster up bottles. -Then when everything was secure, there would -be an ominous call overhead, "</span><em class="italics">Stand by -forrard, boys!</em><span>" followed by a period of frantic -revolution and panic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," continued the Laird, when we got -on deck again; "a sense of humour is a great -power in human affairs. A man in public life -without it is like a ship without a helm: he -is sure to go and do something redeeclous -that a smaller man would have avoided -altogether. Ay, my father's sense of humour was -often said by people to be quite extraordinar'—quite -extraordinar'. I make no pretensions -that way myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here the Laird waved his hand, as if to -deprecate any courteous protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no; I have no pretensions that way; -but sometimes a bit joke comes in verra well -when ye are dealing with solemn and -pretentious asses. There is one man in -Strathgovan——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But here the Laird's contempt of this dull -person could not find vent in words. He put -up both hands, palm outwards, and shook -them, and shrugged his shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A most desperately stupid ass, and as -loquacious as a parrot. I mind fine when I -was giving my earnest attention to the subject -of our police system. I may tell ye, ma'am, -that our burgh stretches over about a mile -each way, and that it has a population of -over 8,000 souls, with a vast quantity of -valuable property. And up till that time we -had but two policemen on duty at the same -time during the night. It was my opeenion -that that number was quite inahdequate; and -I stated my opeenion at a meeting of the -commissioners convened for that purpose. -Well, would ye believe it, this meddlesome -body, Johnny Guthrie, got up on his legs -and preached and preached away; and all -that he had to tell us was that we could not -add to the number of police without the -consent of the Commissioners of Supply and -the Home Secretary. Bless me! what bairn -is there but knows that? I'll be bound Miss -Mary there, though she comes from England, -would know as much about public affairs -as that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I am afraid not, sir," said she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No matter—no matter. Live and learn. -When ye come to Strathgovan, we'll begin -and teach ye. However, as I was saying, -this bletherin' poor crayture went on and on, -and it was all about the one point, until I got -up and, 'Mr. Provost,' says I, 'there are some -human beings it would be idle to answer. -Their loquacity is a sort of function; they -perspire through their tongue—like a doag.' Ye -should have seen Johnny Guthrie's face -after that!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And here the Laird laughed and laughed -again at Johnny Guthrie's discomfiture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But he is a poor bletherin' crayture," -he continued, with a kind of compassion. -"Providence made him what he is: but -sometimes I think Johnny tries to make himself -even more rideeklous than Providence could -fairly and honestly have intended. He -attacked me most bitterly because I got a -committee appointed to represent to the -Postmaster that we should have a later delivery -at night. He attacked me most bitterly; and -yet I think it was one of the greatest reforms -ever introduced into our Burgh."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, indeed, sir?" says his hostess, with -earnest attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, indeed. The Postmaster is a most -civil, worthy, and respectable man, though it -was a sore blow to him when his daughter took -to going to the Episcopal Church in Glasgow. -However, with his assistance we now get the -letters that used to be delivered in the forenoon -delivered late the night before; and we have a -mail made up at 10 P.M., which is a great -convenience. And that man Johnny Guthrie -gabbling away as if the French Revolution -were coming back on us! I am a Conservative -myself, as ye know, ma'am; but I say that we -must march with the times. No standing still -in these days. However, ye will get Johnny -Guthries everywhere; poor bletherin' craytures -who have no capacity for taking a large view of -public affairs—bats and blindworms as it were: -I suppose there is a use for them, as it has -pleased Providence to create them; but it -would puzzle an ordinary person to find it out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With much of the like wise discourse did the -Laird beguile our northward voyage; and -apparently he had forgotten that little incident -about Mary Avon in the morning. The girl -was as much interested as any one; laughed -at the "good ones;" was ready to pour her -contempt on the Johnny Guthries who opposed -the projects of the Laird's statesmanship. -And in this manner we fought our way against -the stiff northerly breeze, until evening found -us off the mouth of Loch Crinan. Here we -proposed to run in for the night, so that we -should have daylight and a favourable tide to -enable us to pass through the Dorus Mor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a beautiful, quiet evening in this -sheltered bay; and after dinner we were all -on deck, reading, smoking, and what not. The -Laird and Mary Avon were playing chess -together. The glow of the sunset was still -in the western sky, and reflected on the smooth -water around us; though Jura and Scarba were -of a dark, soft, luminous rose-purple.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Chess is a silent game; the Laird was not -surprised that his companion did not speak to -him. And so absorbed was he with his knights -and bishops that he did not notice that, in the -absolute silence of this still evening, one of the -men forward was idly whistling to himself the -sad air of Lochaber.</span></p> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><em class="italics">Lochaber no more! And Lochaber no more!</em></div> -<div class="line"><em class="italics">We'll maybe return to Lochaber no more!</em></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was the old and familiar refrain: Hector -of Moidart was probably not thinking of -Lochaber at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But suddenly the Laird, staring down at the -board, perceived some little tiny thing drop on -the farther edge from him; and he quickly -looked up. The girl was crying. Instantly -he put out his great hand and took hers, and -said, in a low voice, full of gentleness and a -tender sympathy—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me, lassie, what is the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mary Avon hastily pulled out her handkerchief, -and passed it across her eyes, and said -hurriedly—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I beg your pardon! it is nothing: I—I -was thinking of something else. And is it -your move or mine, sir?——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird looked at her; but her eyes were -cast down. He did not pay so much attention -to the game after that.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="certainty"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">CERTAINTY.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning there is a lively commotion -on board. The squally, blustering-looking -skies, the glimpses of the white horses out -there on the driven green sea, and the fresh -northerly breeze that comes in gusts and swirls -about the rigging—all tell us that we shall -have some hard work before we pierce the -Dorus Mor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't want for wind to-day, Captain -John," says the Youth, who is waiting to give -the men a hand at the windlass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Deed, no," says John of Skye, with a grim -smile. "This is the kind of day that -Dr. Sutherland would like, and the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -through the Dorus Mor too!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, the Laird seems to take no interest -in what is going forward. All the morning he -has been silent and preoccupied; occasionally -approaching his hostess, but never getting an -opportunity of speaking with her alone. At -last, when he observes that every one is on -deck, and eagerly watching the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -getting under weigh, he covertly and quietly -touches our Admiral on the arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would speak to ye below for a moment, -ma'am," he says, in a whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so, unnoticed amid all this bustle, she -follows him down into the saloon, wondering -not a little. And as soon as he has shut the -door, he plunges </span><em class="italics">in medias res</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon, ma'am; but I must -speak to ye. It is about your friend, Miss -Mary: have ye not observed that she is sorely -troubled about something—though she puts a -brave face on it and will not acknowledge it? -Have ye not seen it—have ye not guessed that -she is grievously troubled about some matter -or other?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have guessed it," said the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor lass! poor lass!" said the Laird; and -then he added, thoughtfully, "It is no small -matter that can affect so light-hearted a -creature: that is what I want to ask ye. Do ye -know? Have ye guessed? Surely it is -something that some of us can help her wi'. Indeed, -it just distresses me beyond measure to see that -trouble in her face; and when I see her try to -conceal it—and to make believe that everything -is well with her—I feel as if there was nothing -I would not do for the poor lass."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I don't think either you or I can help. -Young people must manage their affairs for -themselves," says his hostess, somewhat coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what is it?—what is it? What is -troubling her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Queen Titania regards him for a moment, -apparently uncertain as to how far she should -go. At last she says—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well; I am not revealing any confidence of -Mary's; for she has told me nothing about it. -But I may as well say at once that when we -were in West Loch Tarbert, Dr. Sutherland -asked her to be his wife; and she refused him. -And now I suppose she is breaking her heart -about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me! dear me!" says the Laird, with -eyes opened wide.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is always the way with girls," says the -other, with a cruel cynicism. "Whether they -say 'Yes' or 'No' they are sure to cry over it. -And naturally; for whether they say 'Yes' or -'No,' they are sure to have made an -irretrievable blunder."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird is slowly recovering from his first -shock of surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if she did refuse him, surely that is -what any one would have expected? There -is nothing singular in that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pardon me; I think there is something -very singular," she says, warmly. "I don't see -how any one could have been with these two -up in the north, and not perceived that there -was an understanding between them. If any -girl ever encouraged a man, she did. Why, -sir, when you proposed that your nephew should -come with us, and make love to Mary, I said -'Yes' because I thought it would be merely -a joke! I thought he would please you by -consenting, and not harm anybody else. But -now it has turned out quite different; and -Angus Sutherland has gone away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And at this there was a return of the proud -and hurt look into her eyes: Angus was her -friend; she had not expected this idle boy -would have supplanted him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird was greatly disturbed. The -beautiful picture that he had been painting -for himself during this summer idleness of -ours—filling in the details with a lingering -and loving care—seemed to fade away into -impalpable mist; and he was confronted by -blank chaos. And this, too, just at the -moment when the departure of the Doctor -appeared to render all his plans doubly -secure.—He rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will think over it, ma'am," he said, slowly. -"I am obliged to ye for your information: -perhaps I was not as observant as I should -have been."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she sought to stay him for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you think, sir," said she, timidly, "it -would be better for neither you nor me to -interfere?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird turned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I made a promise to the lass," said he, quite -simply, "one night we were in Loch Leven, and -she and I were walking on the deck, that when -she was in trouble I would try to help her; and -I will not break my promise through any fear -of being called an intermeddler. I will go to -the girl myself—when I have the opportunity; -and if she prefers to keep her own counsel—if -she thinks I am only an old Scotch fool -who should be minding my own business—I -will not grumble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And again he was going away, when again -she detained him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you do not think I spoke harshly of -Mary," said she, penitentially. "I own that I -was a little disappointed. And it seemed -so certain. But I am sure she has sufficient -reason for whatever she has done—and that -she believes she is acting rightly——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of that there is no doubt," said he, -promptly. "The girl has just a wonderful -clear notion of doing what she ought to do; -and nothing would make her flinch." Then -he added, after a second, "But I will think -over it; and then go to herself. Perhaps she -feels lonely, and does not know that there is a -home awaiting her at Denny-mains."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So both of them went on deck again; and -found that the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> was already sailing -away from the Trossachs-like shore of Loch -Crinan, and getting farther out into this squally -green sea. There were bursts of sunlight -flying across the rocks and the white-tipped -waves; but ordinarily the sky was overcast, -masses of grey and silvery cloud coming -swinging along from the north.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Laird showed himself discreet -"before folk." He would not appear to have -any designs on Mary Avon's confidences. He -talked in a loud and confident fashion to John -of Skye, about the weather, and the Dorus -Mor, and Corrievrechan. Finally, he -suggested, in a facetious way, that as the younger -men had occasionally had their turn at the -helm, he might have his now, for the first time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If ye please, sir," said Captain John, -relinquishing the tiller to him with a smile of -thanks, and going forward to have a quiet pipe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Laird seemed a little bit confused -by the rope which John had confided to him. -In a light breeze, and with his hand on the -tiller, he might have done very well; but -this looped rope, to which he had to cling so -as to steady himself, seemed puzzling. And -almost at the same time the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -began to creep up to the wind; and presently -the sails showed an ominous quiver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep her full, sir!" called John of Skye, -turning round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But instead of that the sails flapped more -and more; there was a rattling of blocks; two -men came tumbling up from the forecastle, -thinking the yacht was being put about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shove your hand from ye, sir!" called out -the skipper to the distressed steersman; and -this somewhat infantine direction soon put the -vessel on her course again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a few minutes thereafter John of Skye -put his pipe in his waistcoat pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll let her about now, sir," he called -to the Laird.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men who happened to be on deck -went to the jib-sheets; John himself leisurely -proceeding to stand by the weather fore-sheet. -Then, as the Laird seemed still to await further -orders, he called out—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Helm hard down, sir, if ye please!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this rope bothered the Laird. He -angrily untwisted it, let it drop on the deck, and -then with both hands endeavoured to jam the -tiller towards the weather bulwarks, which were -certainly nearer to him than the lee bulwarks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The other way, sir!" Mary Avon cried -to him, anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless me! bless me! Of course!" he -cried, in return; and then he let the tiller -go, and just managed to get out of its way -as it swung to leeward. And then as the -bow sheered round, and the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -made away for the mouth of Loch Craignish -on the port tack, he soon discovered the use -of the weather tiller rope, for the wind was -now blowing hard, and the yacht pitching -a good deal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are getting on, Miss Mary!" he cried -to her, crushing his wideawake down over his -forehead. "Have ye not got a bit song for -us? What about the two sailors that pitied -all the poor folk in London?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She only cast down her eyes, and a faint -colour suffused her cheeks: our singing-bird -had left us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard, lad!" the Laird called out again, -in his facetious manner, "ye are not looking -well, man. Is the pitching too much for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Youth was certainly not looking very -brilliant; but he managed to conjure up a -ghastly smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I get ill," said he, "I will blame it on -the steering."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Deed, ye will not," said the Laird, who -seemed to have been satisfied with his -performances. "I am not going to steer this -boat through the Dorus Mor. Here, John, -come back to your post!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John of Skye came promptly aft; in no -case would he have allowed an amateur to -pilot the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> through this narrow -strait with its swirling currents. However, -when the proper time came we got through -the Dorus Mor very easily, there being a -strong flood tide to help us; and the brief -respite under the lee of the land allowed the -Youth to summon back his colour and his -cheerfulness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird had ensconced himself beside -Mary Avon; he had a little circle of admiring -listeners; he was telling us, amid great shouts -of laughter, how Homesh had replied to one -tourist, who had asked for something to eat, -that that was impossible, "bekass ahl the -plates was cleaned;" and how Homesh had -answered another tourist, who represented that -the towel in the lavatory was not as it should -be, that "more than fifty or sixty people was -using that towel this very day, and not a -complaint from any one of them;" and how -Homesh, when his assistant stumbled and -threw a leg of mutton on to the deck, called -out to him in his rage, "Ye young teffle, I -will knock the stairs down your head!" We -were more and more delighted with Homesh -and his apocryphal adventures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now other things than Homesh were -claiming our attention. Once through the -Dorus, we found the wind blowing harder -than ever, and a heavy sea running. The -day had cleared, and the sun was gleaming -on the white crests of the waves; but the air -was thick with whirled spray, and the decks -were running wet. The </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> listed -over before the heavy wind, so that her -scuppers were a foot deep in water; while -opening the gangway only relieved the -pressure for a second or two; the next moment -a wave would surge in on the deck. The -jib and fore-staysail were soaked half-mast -high. When we were on the port tack the -keel of the gig ploughed the crests of those -massive and rolling waves. This would, -indeed, have been a day for Angus Sutherland.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On one tack we ran right over to Corrievrechan; -but we could see no waterspouts or -other symptoms of the whirling currents; we -could only hear the low roar all along the -Scarba coast, and watch the darting of the -white foam up the face of the rocks. And -then away again on the port tack; with the -women clinging desperately to the weather -bulwarks, lest perchance they should swiftly -glide down the gleaming decks into the hissing -water that rolled along the lee scuppers. -Despite the fact of their being clad from -top to toe in waterproofs, their faces were -streaming with the salt water; but they were -warm enough, for the sun was blazing hot, and -the showers of spray were like showers of -gleaming diamonds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Luncheon was of an extremely pantomimic -character; until, in the midst of it, we were -alarmed by hearing quick tramping overhead, -and noise and shouting. The Youth was -hastily bidden to leave his pickle jars, and go -on deck to see what was happening. In a -second or two he returned—somewhat -grueful—his hair wild—his face wet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are only taking in the mizen," says -he; "but my cap has been knocked overboard, -and I have got about a quart of water down -my neck."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will do ye good, lad," observed the -Laird, in the most heartless manner; "and I -will now trouble ye to pass me the marmalade."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Patiently, all day long, we beat up against -that inexorable north wind, until, in the -afternoon, it veered a point or two to the east, -which made an appreciable difference in our -rate of progress. Then, the farther the wind -veered, the more it became a land wind; and -the sea abated considerably: so that long -before we could make out Castle Osprey on the -face of the hill, we were in fairly calm waters, -with a light breeze on our starboard beam. -The hot sun had dried the decks; there was a -possibility of walking; some went below to -prepare for going ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were returning to the world of telegrams, -and letters, and newspapers; we should soon -know what the Commissioners of Strathgovan -were doing, and whether Johnny Guthrie had -been fomenting sedition. But it was not these -things that troubled the Laird. He had been -somewhat meditative during the afternoon. At -last, finding an occasion on which nearly -everybody was below but his hostess, he said to her, -in a low voice—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The more I reflect on that matter we spoke -of this morning, the more I am driven to a -conclusion that I would fain avoid. It would -be a sad blow to me. I have built much on -the scheme I was telling ye of: perhaps it was -but a toy; but old people have a fondness for -their toys as well as young people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't quite understand you, sir," said the -other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will soon learn whether I am right," -said the old Laird, with a sigh; and then he -turned to her and regarded her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I doubt whether ye see this girl's character -as clearly as I do," said he. "Gentle, and soft, -and delicate as she seems to be, she is of the -stuff the martyrs in former days were made of: -if she believes a thing to be right, she will do -it, at any cost or sacrifice. Do ye mind the -first evening I met her at your house—how she -sate and talked, and laughed, with her sprained -ankle swollen and black all the time, just that -she might not interfere with the pleasure of -others?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird paused for a moment or two.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been putting things together," he -continued—but he did not seem proud or -boastful of his perspicacity: perhaps he would -rather have fought against the conclusion -forced on him. "When she was up in the -north, it seemed to you as if she would have -married the young man Sutherland?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Most undoubtedly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The lass had her bit fortune then," said the -Laird, thoughtfully. "Not much, as ye say; -but it would have been an independence. It -would have helped him in the world; it would -have left him free. And she is proud of what -he has done, and as ambeetious as himself that -he should become a great man. Ay?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird seemed very anxious about the -varnishing of the gig; he kept smoothing it -with his forefinger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And when he came to her the other day—it -is but a guess of mine, ma'am—she may -have said to herself beforehand that she would -not be a drag on him, that she would leave him -free to become great and famous, that the -sentiment of the moment was a trifling thing -compared to what the world expected from -Dr. Sutherland. Ye will not forget what she -said on that point only the other day. And -she may have sent him away—with her own -heart just like to break. I have just been -putting one or two possibeelities together, -ma'am——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The colour had forsaken the cheeks of the -woman who stood by his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And—and—if she was so cruel—and, and -heartless—and, and monstrous—she ought to -be horsewhipped!" she exclaimed quite -breathlessly, and apparently not knowing what she -was saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Laird shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor lass! poor lass!" he said, gently; -"she has had her troubles. No doubt the loss -of her bit fortune seemed a desperate thing to -her; and you know her first anxiety is -conteenually for other people—particularly them -that have been kind to her—and that she -thinks no more of herself than if she had no -feelings at all. Well, ma'am, if what I am -guessing at is true—it is only a speculation -o' mine, and I am far from sure; but if that is -all that has to be put right, I'm thinking it -might be put right. We should thank God -that we are now and again able to put some -small matter straight in the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird was more busy than ever with -the varnish, and he went nearer the boat. His -fingers were nervous, and there was a strange, -sad look in the sunken grey eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor lass! if that is all her trouble, it might -not be difficult to help her," said he; and then -he added slowly—and the woman beside him -knew, rather than saw, that the sad grey eyes -were somehow wet—"But I had thought to see -her living at Denny-mains: it was—it was a -sort of toy of my old age."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-parable"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A PARABLE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Now we had not been five minutes within -the walls of Castle Osprey when great shouts -of laughter were heard in the direction of the -library; and presently the Laird came quickly -into the room where the two women were -standing at the open window. He was -flourishing a newspaper in his hand; delight, -sarcasm, and desperate humour shone in his -face. He would not notice that Queen Titania -looked very much inclined to cry, as she gazed -out on the forlorn remains of what had once -been a rose-garden; he would pay no heed to -Mary Avon's wan cheek and pensive eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just listen to this, ma'am, just listen to -this," he called out briskly; and all the -atmosphere of the room seemed to wake up into -cheerfulness and life. "Have I not told ye -often about that extraordinary body, Johnny -Guthrie? Now just listen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It appeared that the Laird, without even -bestowing a glance on the pile of letters lying -waiting for him, had at once dived into the -mass of newspapers, and had succeeded in -fishing out the report of the last meeting of the -Strathgovan Police Commissioners. With a -solemnity that scarcely veiled his suppressed -mirth, he said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just listen, ma'am: 'The fortnightly -meeting of the Strathgovan Police Commissioners -was held on Monday, Provost McKendrick in -the chair. Mr. Robert Johnstone said he had -much pleasure in congratulating the chairman -and the other gentlemen assembled on the -signal and able manner in which the fire -brigade had done their duty on the previous -Saturday at the great conflagration in Coulterside -buildings; and he referred especially to the -immense assistance given by the new fire engine -recently purchased by the commissioners. -(Hear! hear!) He could assure the meeting -that but for the zealous and patriotic ardour -of the brigade—aided, no doubt, by the efficient -working of the steam-engine—a most valuable -property would have been devoted </span><em class="italics">holus bolus</em><span> -to the flames.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird frowned at this phrase.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does the crayture think he is talking -Latin?" he asked, apparently of himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, he continued his reading of the -report—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Provost McKendrick, replying to these -observations, observed that it was certainly a -matter for congratulation that the fire brigade -should have proved their efficiency in so distinct -a manner, considering the outlay that had been -incurred; and that now the inhabitants of the -Burgh would perceive the necessity of having -more plugs. So far all the money had been -well spent. Mr. J. Guthrie'"—but here the -Laird could not contain his laughter any -longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the Johnny, ma'am," he cried, in -explanation, "that's the Johnny Guthrie I was -telling ye about—the poor, yaumering, pernickity, -querulous crayture! 'Mr. J. Guthrie begged to -say he could not join in these general felicitations. -They were making a great deal of noise -about nothing. The fire was no fire at all; a -servant-girl could have put it out with a pail. -He had come from Glasgow by the eleven -o'clock 'bus, and there was then not a trace -of a fire to be seen. The real damage done -to the property was not done by the fire, but -by the dirty water drawn by the fire brigade -from the Coulter-burn, which dirty water had -entirely destroyed Mrs. MacInnes's best -bedroom furniture."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird flourished the newspaper, and -laughed aloud in his joy; the mere reading of -the extract had so thoroughly discomfited his -enemy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did ye ever hear the like o' that body?" he -cried. "A snarlin', quarlin', gruntin', growlin', -fashious crayture! He thinks there could not -be any fire, just because he was not in time to -see it. Oh, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, I'm just -fair ashamed o' ye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at this point the Laird seemed to become -aware that he had given way too much to his -love of pure and pithy English. He -immediately said, in a more formal manner—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad to perceive, ma'am, that the -meeting paid no heed to these strictures, but -went on to consider whether the insurance -companies should not share the expense of -maintaining the fire brigade. That was most -proper—most judeecious. I'm thinking that -after dinner I could not do better than -express my views upon that subject, in a letter -addressed to the Provost. It would be in -time to be read at the monthly sederunt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along, then, Mary, and let us get -through our letters," said his hostess, turning -away with a sigh from the dilapidated rose-garden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she passed the piano, she opened it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How strange it will sound!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She played a few bars of Mary Avon's -favourite song; somehow the chords seemed -singularly rich and full and beautiful after our -long listening to the monotonous rush of the -sea. Then she put her hand within the girl's -arm and gently led her away, and said to her -as they passed through the hall</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"'Oh, little did my mither think</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>When first she cradled me'</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>that ever I should have come back to such a -picture of desolation. But we must put a -brave face on it. If the autumn kills the -garden, it glorifies the hills. You will want -all your colour-tubes when we show you Loch -Hourn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was the place the Doctor was anxious -to veesit," said the Laird, who was immediately -behind them. "Ay. Oh, yes, we will show -Miss Mary Loch Hourn; she will get some -material for sketches there, depend on't. Just -the finest loch in the whole of the Highlands. -When I can get Tom Galbraith first of all -persuaded to see Bunessan——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But we heard no more about Tom Galbraith. -Queen Titania had uttered a slight exclamation -as she glanced over the addresses of the -letters directed to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From Angus!" she said, as she hurriedly -opened one of the envelopes, and ran her eye -over the contents.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then her face grew grave, and inadvertently -she turned to the Laird.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In three days," she said, "he was to start -for Italy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at the date.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He must have left London already!" said -she, and then she examined the letter further. -"And he does not say where he is going."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird looked grave too—for a second. -But he was an excellent actor. He began -whistling the air that his hostess had been -playing. He turned over his letters and -papers carelessly. At length he said, with -an air of fine indifference—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The grand thing of being away at sea is -to teach ye the comparateevely trifling -importance of anything that can happen on land."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He tossed the unopened letters about, only -regarding the addresses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What care I what the people may have -been saying about me in my absence?—the -real thing is that we got food to eat and were -not swept into Corrievrechan. Come, Miss -Mary, I will just ask ye to go for a stroll -through the garden wi' me, until dinner-time; -our good friends will not ask us to dress on -an evening like this, just before we have got -everything on shore. Twenty-five meenutes, -ma'am? Very well. If anybody has been -abusing me in my absence, we'll listen to the -poor fellow after dinner, when we can get the -laugh made general, and so make some good -out of him; but just now we'll have the quiet -of the sunset to ourselves. Dear, dear me! we -used to have the sunset after dinner when -we were away up about Canna and Uist."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mary Avon seemed to hesitate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! not a single letter for ye? That -shows very bad taste on the pairt of the young -men about England. But I never thought -much o' them. From what I hear, they are -mostly given over to riding horses, and -shooting pheasants, and what not. But never mind. -I want ye to come out for a stroll wi' me, my -lass: ye'll see some fine colour about the -Morven hills presently, or I'm mistaken."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, sir," said she, obediently; and -together they went out into the garden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now it was not until some minutes after the -dinner-gong had sounded that we again saw -these two, and then there was nothing in the -manner of either of them to suggest to any -one that anything had happened. It was not -until many days afterwards that we obtained, -bit by bit, an account of what had occurred, -and even then it was but a stammering, and -disjointed, and shy account. However, such -as it was, it had better appear here, if only to -keep the narrative straight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird, walking up and down the gravel -path with his companion, said that he did not -so much regret the disappearance of the roses, -for there were plenty of other flowers to take -their place. Then he thought he and she -might go and sit on a seat which was placed -under a drooping ash in the centre of the lawn, -for from this point they commanded a fine -view of the western seas and hills. They had -just sat down there when he said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My girl, I am going to take the privilege -of an old man, and speak frankly to ye. I -have been watching ye, as it were—and your -mind is not at ease."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Avon hastily assured him that it was -quite, and begged to draw his attention to the -yacht in the bay, where the men were just -lowering the ensign, at sunset.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird returned to the subject; entreated -her not to take it ill that he should -interfere; and then reminded her of a certain -night on Loch Leven, and of a promise he had -then made her. Would he be fulfilling that -solemn undertaking if he did not, at some risk -of vexing her, and of being considered a -prying, foolish person, endeavour to help her if -she was in trouble?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Avon said how grateful she was to -him for all his kindness to her; and how his -promise had already been amply fulfilled. She -was not in trouble. She hoped no one thought -that. Everything that had happened was for -the best. And here—as was afterwards -admitted—she burst into a fit of crying, and was -very much mortified, and ashamed of herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at this point the Laird would appear -to have taken matters into his own hand. -First of all he began to speak of his nephew—of -his bright good nature, and so forth—of -his professed esteem for her—of certain -possibilities that he, the Laird, had been dreaming -about with the fond fancy of an old man. And -rather timidly he asked her—if it were true -that she thought everything had happened -for the best—whether, after all, his nephew -Howard might not speak to her? It had -been the dream of his old age to see these -two together at Denny-mains, or on board -that steam yacht he would buy for them on -the Clyde. Was that not possible?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here, at least, the girl was honest and -earnest enough—even anxiously earnest. She -assured him that that was quite impossible. It -was hopeless. The Laird remained silent for -some minutes, holding her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," said he, rather sadly, but with an -affectation of grave humour, "I am going to -tell you a story. It is about a young lass, who -was very proud, and who kept her thoughts -very much to herself, and would not give her -friends a chance of helping her. And she was -very fond of a—a young Prince we will call -him—who wanted to go away to the wars, and -make a great name for himself. No one was -prouder of the Prince than the girl, mind ye, -and she encouraged him in everything, and -they were great friends, and she was to give -him all her diamonds, and pearls, and -necklaces—she would throw them into his treasury, -like a Roman matron—just that he might go -away and conquer, and come back and marry -her. But lo, and behold! one night all her -jewels and bracelets were stolen! Then what -does she do? Would ye believe it? She -goes and quarrels with that young Prince, -and tells him to go away and fight his battles -for himself, and never to come back and see -her any more—just as if any one could fight -a battle wi' a sore heart. Oh, she was a -wicked, wicked lass, to be so proud as that, -when she had many friends that would -willingly have helped her.... Sit down, my -girl, sit down, my girl, never mind the dinner; -they can wait for us.... Well, ye see, the -story goes on that there was an old man—a -foolish old man—they used to laugh at him, -because of his fine fishing-tackle, and the -very few fish he caught wi' the tackle—and -this doited old body was always intermeddling -in other people's business. And what do you -think he does but go and say to the young -lass: 'Ha, have I found ye out? Is it left -for an old man like me—and me a bachelor -too, who should know but little of the quips -and cranks of a young lass's ways—is it left -for an old man like me to find out that fine -secret o' yours?' She could not say a word. -She was dumbfounded. She had not the face -to deny it: he </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> found out what that wicked -girl, with all her pride, and her martyrdom, -and her sprained ankles, had been about. -And what do you think he did then? Why, -as sure as sure can be, he had got all the -young lass's property in his pocket; and before -she could say Jack Robinson, he tells her -that he is going to send straight off for the -Prince—this very night—a telegram to -London——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl had been trembling, and struggling -with the hand that held hers. At last she -sprang to her feet, with a cry of entreaty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, no, no, sir! You will not do that! -You will not degrade me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then—this is her own account, mind—the -Laird rose too, and still held her by the -hand, and spoke sternly to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Degrade you?" said he. "Foolish lass! -Come in to your dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When these two did come in to dinner—nearly -a quarter of an hour late—their hostess -looked anxiously from one to the other. But -what could she perceive? Mary Avon was -somewhat pale, and she was silent: but that -had been her way of late. As for the Laird, -he came in whistling the tune of the Queen's -Maries, which was a strange grace before -meat, and he looked airily around him at -the walls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would just like to know," said he lightly, -"whether there is a single house in all Scotland -where ye will not find an engraving of one or -other of Mr. Thomas Faed's pictures in some -one of the rooms?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And he preserved this careless and -indifferent demeanour during dinner. After -dinner he strolled into the library. He would -venture upon a small cigar. His sole -companion was the person whose humble duty -in this household is to look after financial -matters, so that other folks may enjoy -themselves in idleness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird lay back in an easy chair, -stretched out his legs, lit his cigar, and held -it at arm's length, as if it were something -that ought to be looked at at a distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You had something to do with the -purchase of Miss Mary's American stock, eh?" -said he, pretending to be concerned about the -end of the cigar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Funded Five per Cent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What would be about the value of it now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just now? Oh, perhaps 106, or 107."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, no. I mean, if the bonds that -that ill-faured scoondrel carried away with -him were to be sold the now, what money, -what English money, would they fetch?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this required some calculation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Probably about 7,300*l*."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was asking," said the Laird, "because -I was wondering whether there was any chance -of tracing them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not the least. They are like bank-notes—more -useful indeed, to a swindler than even -bank-notes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, is that so?" said the Laird; and he -seemed to be so charmed with his whistling -of the air of Queen's Maries that he returned -to that performance. Oddly enough, however, -he never ventured beyond the first line: -perhaps he was afraid of missing the tune.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seven thousand, three hundred," said he, -meditatively. "Man, that's a strong cigar—little, -and black, and strong. Seven thousand, -three hundred. Girls are strange craytures. -I remember what that young Doctor was -saying once about weemen being better able -to bear pain than men, and not so much afraid -of it either——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And here the Queen's Maries came in again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be a strange thing," said the -Laird, with a sort of rueful laugh, "if I were -to have a steam yacht all to myself, and cruise -about in search of company, eh? No, no; -that will not do. My neighbours in -Strathgovan will never say that I deserted them, -just when great improvements and serious -work have to be looked forward to. I will -not have it said that I ran away, just to -pleasure myself. Howard, my lad," he added, -imaginatively addressing his absent nephew, -"I doubt but ye'll have to whistle for that -steam yacht."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I will smoke in the garden now: -it is a fine evening."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned at the door, and seemed suddenly -to perceive a pair of stag's horns over the -chimney-piece.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a grand set o' horns," said he; and -then he added carelessly, "What bank did ye -say they American bonds were in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The London and Westminster."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're just a noble pair o' horns," said -he emphatically. "I wonder ye do not take -them with ye to London." And then he left.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-release"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A RELEASE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We had a long spell ashore at this time, -for we were meditating a protracted voyage, -and everything had to be left ship-shape -behind us. The Laird was busy from morning -till night; but it would appear that all his -attention was not wholly given to the affairs -of Strathgovan. Occasionally he surprised -his hostess by questions which had not the -least reference to asphalte pavements or -gymnasium chains. He kept his own counsel, -nevertheless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by his mysterious silence so piqued -and provoked her that she seized a favourable -opportunity for asking him, point-blank, whether -he had not spoken to Mary Avon. They were -in the garden at the time, he seated on an -iron seat, with a bundle of papers beside him; -she standing on the gravel-path with some -freshly-cut flowers in her hand. There was a -little colour in her face, for she feared that -the question might be deemed impertinent; -yet, after all, it was no idle curiosity that -prompted her to ask it. Was she not as much -interested in the girl's happiness as any one -could be?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have," said he, looking up at her calmly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, she knew that. Was this all the -answer she was to get?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon, ma'am," said he, after -a second, "if I seem to be making a mystery -where there is no mystery. I hate all foolishness -like that. I do not myself believe there -is anything of the kind; but I will just ask -ye to wait for a day or two before speaking -to the lass herself. After that, I will leave it -all in your hands. I trust ye will consider that -I have done my part."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I am sure of that, sir," said she: -though how could she be sure?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is not much I would not do for -that lass," said he, somewhat absently. "She -has a wonderful way of getting a grip of one's -heart, as it were. And if I could have wished -that things had turned out otherwise——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird did not finish the sentence. He -seemed to rouse himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Toots! toots!" said he, frowning. "When -we are become men, we have to put away -childish things. What is the use of crying -for the moon? There, ma'am, is something -serious and practical to consider—something -better worth considering than childish dreams -and fancies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then, with much lucidity and with a -most dispassionate parade of arguments on -both sides, he put before her this knotty -question: whether it was a fit and proper -thing for a body like the Strathgovan -Commissioners to own public-house property? -That was the general question. The -immediate question was whether the "William -Wallace" public-house, situated in the -Netherbiggins road, should be re-let or summarily -closed? On the one hand it was contended -that the closing of the "William Wallace" -would only produce a greater run on the other -licensed houses; on the other hand, it was -urged that a body like the commissioners -should set an example and refuse to encourage -a mischievous traffic. Now the Laird's own -view of the liquor question—which he always -put forward modestly, as subject to the opinion -of those who had had a wider legislative and -administrative experience than himself—was, -that the total suppression of the liquor traffic -was a chimera; and that a practical man should -turn to see what could be done in the way of -stringent police regulations. He was -proceeding to expound these points when he -suddenly caught sight of the Youth, who had -appeared at the gate, with two long fishing rods -over his shoulder. He dropped his voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That just reminds me, ma'am," said he. -"I am greatly obliged to ye—my nephew -equally so—for your great kindness to him. -I think it will not be necessary for him to -trespass on your forbearance any longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't quite understand you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I will let him go back to his own -pursuits now," said the Laird.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no," she said. "By all means let him -come with us to Stornoway. He has been -very good in not grumbling over any -inconvenience. You would not send him -away—just as we are going to start on our longest -cruise?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She could not say anything further at the -moment, for the Youth came up the gravel-path -and threw the two huge rods on to the lawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look there, uncle!" he cried. "I don't -care what size of lithe you get on the line, I'll -bet those rods won't break, any way. Sutherland -used to be lamenting over the big fish -you lost up in the north: try them with those -things!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here their hostess passed on and into the -house with her flowers. Uncle and nephew -were left by themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Howard, lad," said the elder of the two -men, "bring that chair over, and sit opposite -me, I do not want my papers to be disturbed. -There are one or two matters of business I -would like to put before ye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Youth did as he was bid. The Laird -paused for a second or two; then he began—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When I asked ye to come to the Highlands," -said he, slowly, "I put an alternative -before ye, with certain consequences. There -were two things, one of which I wanted ye to -do. Ye have done neither."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Howard Smith looked somewhat alarmed: -his hostess was not there to put a jocular air -over that bargain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, sir," he stammered, "I—I could not -do what was impossible. I—I have done my best."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nevertheless," said the Laird, in a -matter-of-fact way, "neither has been done. I will -not say it has been altogether your fault. So -far as I have seen, ye have been on very good -terms with the young leddy; and—and—yes, -paid her what attention was expected of ye; -and——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you see, uncle," he interposed, -eagerly, "what was the use of my proposing -to the girl only to be snubbed? Don't I know -she cares no more about me than about the -man in the moon? Why, anybody could see -that. Of course, you know, if you insist on -it—if you drive me to it—if you want me to go -in and get snubbed—I'll do it. I'll take my -chance. But I don't think it's fair. I mean," -he added hastily, "I don't think it is necessary."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not wish to drive ye to anything," -said the Laird—on any other occasion he might -have laughed at the Youth's ingenuousness, -but now he had serious business on hand. "I -am content to take things as they are. Neither -of the objects I had in view has been -accomplished; perhaps both were impossible; who -can tell what lies in store for any of us, when -we begin to plan and scheme? However, I -am not disposed to regard it as your fault. I -will impose no fine or punishment, as if we -were playing at theatre-acting. I have neither -kith nor kin of my own; and it is my wish -that, at my death, Denny-mains should go to -you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Youth's face turned red; yet he did not -know how to express his gratitude. It did not -quite seem a time for sentiment; the Laird was -talking in such a matter-of-fact way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"—Subject to certain conditions," he -continued. "First of all, I spoke some time ago -of spending a sum of 3,000*l.* on a steam yacht. -Dismiss that from your mind. I cannot afford -it; neither will you be able."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man stared at this. For although -he cared very little about the steam yacht—having -a less liking for the sea than some of us—he -was surprised to hear that a sum like -3,000*l.* was even a matter for consideration to -a reputedly rich man like his uncle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, certainly, sir," said he. "I don't at all -want a steam yacht."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, we will now proceed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird took up one of the documents -beside him, and began to draw certain lines -on the back of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye will remember," said he, pointing with -his pencil, "that where the estate proper of -Denny-mains runs out to the Coulter-burn Road, -there is a piece of land belonging to me, on -which are two tenements, yielding together, I -should say, about 300*l.* a year. By and by, if -a road should be cut so—across to the Netherbiggins -road—that land will be more valuable; -many a one will be wanting to feu that piece -then, mark my words. However, let that stand -by. In the meantime I have occasion for a -sum of ten thousand three hundred pounds—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Youth looked still more alarmed: had -his uncle been speculating?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"—and I have considered it my duty to ask -you, as the future proprietor of Denny-mains -in all human probability, whether ye would -rather have these two tenements sold, with as -much of the adjoining land as would make up -that sum, or whether ye would have the sum -made a charge on the estate generally, and -take your chance of that land rising in value? -What say ye?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird had been prepared for all this; -but the Youth was not. He looked rather -frightened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should be sorry to hear, sir," he stammered, -"that—that—you were pressed for money——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pressed for money!" said the Laird -severely; "I am not pressed for money. -There is not a square yard of Denny-mains -with a farthing of mortgage on it. Come, -let's hear what ye have to say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," said the young man, collecting his -wits, "my opinion is, that a man should do -what he likes with his own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's well said," returned the Laird, much -mollified. "And I'm no sure but that if we -were to roup[#] that land, that quarrelsome body -Johnny Guthrie might not be trying to buy it; -and I would not have him for a neighbour on -any consideration. Well, I will write to Todd -and Buchanan about it at once."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="small">[#] To roup, to sell by public auction.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Laird rose and began to bundle his -papers together. The Youth laid hold of the -fishing-rods, and was about to carry them off -somewhere, when he was suddenly called back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me!" said the Laird, "my memory's -going. There was another thing I was about -to put before ye, lad. Our good friends here -have been very kind in asking ye to remain so -long. I'm thinking ye might offer to give up -your state-room before they start on this long -trip. Is there any business or occupation ye -would like to be after in the south?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The flash of light that leapt to the young -man's face!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, uncle!" he exclaimed eagerly, diving -his hand into his pocket, "I have twice been -asked by old Barnes to go to his place—the -best partridge shooting in Bedfordshire——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Youth recollected himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean," said he seriously, "Barnes, the -swell solicitor, don't you know—Hughes, -Barnes, and Barnes. It would be an -uncommonly good thing for me to stand well with -them. They are just the making of a young -fellow at the bar when they take him up. Old -Barnes's son was at Cambridge with me; but -he doesn't do anything—an idle fellow—cares -for nothing but shooting and billiards. I really -ought to cultivate old Barnes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird eyed him askance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Off ye go to your pairtridge-shooting, and -make no more pretence," said he; and then -he added, "And look here, my lad, when ye -leave this house I hope ye will express in a -proper form your thanks for the kindness ye -have received. No, no; I do not like the way -of you English in that respect. Ye take no -notice of anything. Ye receive a man's -hospitality for a week, a fortnight, a month; and -then ye shake hands with him at the door; -and walk out—as if nothing had happened! -These may be good manners in England; -they are not here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't make a speech, uncle," said the -Youth slyly. "They don't teach us those -things at the English public schools."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye gowk," said the Laird severely, "do ye -think I want ye to make a speech like Norval -on the Grampian Hills? I want ye to express -in proper language your thankfulness for the -attention and kindness that have been -bestowed on ye. What are ye afraid of? Have -ye not got a mouth? From all that I can -hear the English have a wonderful fluency of -speech, when there is no occasion for it at all: -bletherin' away like twenty steam-engines, and -not a grain of wheat to be found when a' the -stour is laid."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="while-the-ripples-fold-upon-sands-of-gold"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"WHILE THE RIPPLES FOLD UPON SANDS OF GOLD."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The days passed, and still the Laird -professed to be profoundly busy; and our -departure for the north was further and further -postponed. The Youth had at first expressed -his intention of waiting to see us off; which -was very kind on his part, considering how -anxious he was to cultivate the acquaintance -of that important solicitor. His patience, -however, at last gave out; and he begged to be -allowed to start on a certain morning. The -evening before we walked down to the shore -with him, and got pulled out to the yacht, and -sate on deck while he went below to pack such -things as had been left in his state-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be a strange thing," said our gentle -Admiral-in-chief, "for us to have a cabin -empty. That has never happened to us in the -Highlands, all the time we have been here. It -will be a sort of ghost's room; we shall not -dare to look into it for fear of seeing something -to awaken old memories."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She put her hand in her pocket, and drew -out some small object.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look," said she, quite sentimentally.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was only a bit of pencil: if it had been -the skull of Socrates she could not have -regarded it with a greater interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the pencil Angus used to mark our -games with. I found it in the saloon the day -before yesterday;" and then she added, -almost to herself, "I wonder where he is now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The answer to this question startled us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In Paris," said the Laird.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But no sooner had he uttered the words than -he seemed somewhat embarrassed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is, I believe so," he said hastily. "I -am not in correspondence with him. I do not -know for certain. I have heard—it has been -stated to me—that he might perhaps remain -until the end of this week in Paris before going -on to Naples."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He appeared rather anxious to avoid being -further questioned. He began to discourse -upon certain poems of Burns, whom he had -once or twice somewhat slightingly treated. -He was now bent on making ample amends. -In especial, he asked whether his hostess did -not remember the beautiful verse in "Mary -Morison," which describes the lover looking on -at the dancing of a number of young people, -and conscious only that his own sweetheart is -not there?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do ye remember it, ma'am?" said he; -and he proceeded to repeat it for her—</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>'Yestreen, when to the trembling string</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>The dance gaed through the lighted ha',</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>To thee my fancy took its wing,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>I sat, but neither heard nor saw.</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>'Though this was fair, and that was braw,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>And yon the toast of a' the town,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>I sighed and said amang them a',</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>"Ye are na Mary Morison."'</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>—Beautiful, beautiful, is it not? And that is -an extraordinary business—and as old as the -hills too—of one young person waling[#] out -another as the object of all the hopes of his or -her life; and nothing will do but that one. Ye -may show them people who are better to look -at, richer, cleverer; ye may reason and argue; -ye may make plans, and what not: it is all of -no use. And people who have grown up, and -who forgot what they themselves were at -twenty or twenty-five, may say what they like -about the foolishness of a piece of sentiment; -and they may prove to the young folks that this -madness will not last, and that they should -marry for more substantial reasons; but ye -are jist talking to the wind! Madness or not -madness, it is human nature; and ye might jist -as well try to fight against the tides. I will -say this, too," continued the Laird, and as he -warmed to his subject, he rose, and began to -pace up and down the deck, "if a young man -were to come and tell me that he was ready to -throw up a love-match for the sake of prudence -and worldly advantage, I would say to him: -'Man, ye are a poor crayture. Ye have not -got the backbone of a mouse in ye.' I have -no respect for a young man who has prudence -beyond his years; not one bit. If it is human -nature for a man of fifty years to laugh at -sentiment and romance, it is human nature for -a man at twenty-five to believe in it; and he -who does not believe in it then, I say is a poor -crayture. He will never come to anything. -He may make money; but he will be a poor -stupid ass all his days, just without those -experiences that make life a beautiful thing to -look back on."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="small">[#] </span><em class="italics small">Waling</em><span class="small">—choosing.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>He came and sate down by Mary Avon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps a sad thing, too," said he, as he -took her hand in his; "but even that is better -than a dull causeway, with an animal trudging -along and sorely burdened with the world's -wealth. And now, my lass, have ye got -everything tight and trim for the grand -voyage?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She has been at it again, sir," says his -hostess, interposing. "She wants to set out -for the south to-morrow morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be a convenient chance for me," -said the girl simply. "Mr. Smith might be -good enough to see me as far as Greenock—though, -indeed, I don't at all mind travelling -by myself. I must stop at Kendal—is that -where the junction is?—for I promised the -poor old woman who died in Edinburgh that -I would call and see some relations of hers -who live near Windermere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They can wait, surely?" said the Laird, -with frowning eyebrows, as if the poor people -at Windermere had attempted to do him some -deadly injury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, there is no hurry for them," said -she. "They do not even know I am coming. -But this chance of Mr. Smith going by the -steamer to-morrow would be convenient."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put that fancy out of your head," said he -with decision. "Ye are going to no Greenock, -and to no Kendal, at the present time. Ye -are going away with us to the north, to see -such things as ye never saw before in your -life. And if ye are anxious to get on with -your work, I'll tell ye what I'll do. There's -our Provost M'Kendrick has been many a -time telling me of the fine salmon-fishing he -got at the west side of Lewis—I think he -said at a place called Gometra——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grimersta," is here suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The very place. Ye shall paint a picture -of Grimersta, my lass, on commission for the -Provost. I authorise ye: if he will not take -it, I will take it myself. Never mind what -the place is like—the Provost has no more -imagination than a boiled lobster; but he -knows when he has good friends, and good -fishing, and a good glass of whisky; and, -depend on it, he'll be proud to have a picture -of the place, on your own terms. I tell ye -I authorise ye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here the Youth came on deck, saying he -was now ready to go ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know, sir," said his hostess, rising, -"what Mary has been trying to get me to -believe?—that she is afraid of the equinoctials!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird laughed aloud.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> a good one—that </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> a good one!" -he cried. "I never heard a better story about -Homesh."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know the gales are very wild here -when they begin," said Miss Avon seriously. -"Every one says so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Laird only laughs the more, and is -still chuckling to himself as he gets down into -the gig: the notion of Mary Avon being -afraid of anything—of fifteen dozen of -equinoctial gales, for example—was to him simply -ludicrous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But a marked and unusual change came -over the Laird's manner when we got back -to Castle Osprey. During all the time he -had been with us, although he had had -occasionally to administer rebukes, with more or -less of solemnity, he had never once lost his -temper. We should have imagined it impossible -for anything to have disturbed his serene -dignity of demeanour. But now—when he -discovered that there was no letter awaiting -any one of us—his impatience seemed -dangerously akin to vexation and anger. He -would have the servants summoned and -cross-examined. Then he would not believe them; -but must needs search the various rooms for -himself. The afternoon post had really brought -nothing but a newspaper—addressed to the -Laird—and that he testily threw into the -waste-paper basket, without opening it. We -had never seen him give way like this before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At dinner, too, his temper was no better. -He began to deride the business habits of -the English people—which was barely civil. -He said that the English feared the Scotch -and the Germans just as the Americans feared -the Chinese—because the latter were -the more indefatigable workers. He -declared that if the London men had less -Amontillado sherry and cigarettes in their -private office-rooms, their business would be -conducted with much greater accuracy and -dispatch. Then another thought struck him: -were the servants prepared to swear that no -registered letter had been presented in the -afternoon, and taken away again because there -was no one in the house to sign the receipt? -Inquiry being made, it was found that no such -letter had been presented. But finally, when -the turmoil about this wretched thing was at -its height, the Laird was pressed to say from -which part of the country the missive was -expected. From London, he said. It was -then pointed out to him that the London -letters were usually sent along in the -evening—sometimes as late as eight or nine o'clock. -He went on with his dinner, grumbling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sure enough, before he had finished dinner, -a footstep was heard on the gravel outside. -The Laird, without any apology, jumped up -and went to the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's the postman," said he, as he -resumed his seat. "Ye might give him a shilling, -ma'am: it is a long climb up the hill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the postman, no doubt; and he had -brought a letter, but it was not for the Laird. -We were all apprehensive of a violent storm -when the servant passed on and handed this -letter to Mary Avon. But the Laird said -nothing. Miss Avon, like a properly-conducted -school-girl, put the letter in her pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no storm. On the contrary, the -Laird got quite cheerful. When his hostess -hoped that no serious inconvenience would -result from the non-arrival of the letter, he -said, "Not the least!" He began and told us -the story of the old lady who endeavoured to -engage the practical Homesh—while he was -collecting tickets—in a disquisition on the -beauties of Highland scenery, and who was -abruptly bidden to "mind her own pussness"; we -had heard the story not more than thirty-eight -times, perhaps, from various natives of Scotland.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the letter about which the Laird had -been anxious had—as some of us suspected—actually -arrived, and was then in Mary Avon's -pocket. After dinner the two women went -into the drawing-room. Miss Avon sate down -to the piano, and began to play, idly enough, -the air called </span><em class="italics">Heimweh</em><span>. Of what home was -she thinking then—this waif and stray among -the winds of the world?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tea was brought in. At last the curiosity -of the elder woman could no longer be -restrained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary," said she, "are you not going to -read that letter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me!" said the girl, plunging into her -pocket. "I had forgotten I had a letter to -read."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took it out and opened it, and began to -read. Her face looked puzzled at first, then -alarmed. She turned to her friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it? What can it mean?" she said, -in blank dismay; and the trembling fingers -handed her the letter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her friend had less difficulty in understanding; -although, to be sure, before she had -finished this perfectly plain and matter-of-fact -communication, there were tears in her eyes. -It was merely a letter from the manager of a -bank in London, begging to inform Miss Avon -that he had just received, through -Messrs. Todd and Buchanan, of Glasgow, a sum of -10,300*l.* to be placed to her credit. He was -also desired to say, that this sum was entirely -at her own free disposal; but the donor would -prefer—if she had no objection—that it should -be invested in some home security, either in a -good mortgage, or in the Metropolitan Board -of Works Stock. It was a plain and simple -letter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mary, don't you understand—don't you -understand?" said she. "He meant to have -given you a steam yacht, if—if you married -Howard Smith. He has given you all the -money you lost; and the steam yacht too. -And there is not a word of regret about all his -plans and schemes being destroyed. And this -is the man we have all been making fun of."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In her conscious self-abasement she did not -perceive how bewildered—how absolutely -frightened—this girl was. Mary Avon took -back the letter mechanically; she stood silent -for a second or two; then she said, almost -in a whisper—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Giving me all that money! Oh, I cannot -take it—I cannot take it! I should not have -stayed here—I should not have told him -anything—I—I—wish to go away——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the common sense of the elder woman -came to her rescue. She took the girl's hand -firmly, and said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall not go away. And when it is -your good fortune to meet with such a friend as -that, you shall not wound him and insult him -by refusing what he has given to you. No; -but you will go at once and thank him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot—I cannot," she said, with both her -hands trembling. "What shall I say? How -can I thank him? If he were my own father -or brother, how could I thank him?——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her friend left the room for a second, and -returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is in the library alone," said she. "Go -to him. And do not be so ungrateful as to -even speak of refusing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl had no time to compose any speech. -She walked to the library door, timidly tapped -at it, and entered. The Laird was seated in an -easy-chair, reading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he saw her come in—he had been -expecting a servant with coffee, probably—he -instantly put aside his book.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Miss Mary?" said he cheerfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She hesitated. She could not speak; her -throat was choking. And then, scarcely -knowing what she did, she sank down before him, -and put her head and her hands on his knees, -and burst out crying and sobbing. And all -that he could hear of any speech-making, or of -any gratitude, or thanks, was only two words—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">My father!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put his hand gently on the soft black -hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Child," said he, "it is nothing. I have -kept my word."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="backward-thoughts"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">BACKWARD THOUGHTS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That was a beautiful morning on which -we got up at an unearthly hour to see the -Youth depart—all of us, that is to say, except -Mary Avon. And yet she was not usually -late. The Laird could not understand it. He -kept walking from one room to another, or -hovering about the hall; and when the -breakfast-gong sounded, he refused to come in and -take his place without his accustomed -companion. But just at this moment whom should -he behold entering by the open door but Mary -Avon herself—laden with her artistic -impedimenta? He pounced on her at once, and -seized the canvas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless me, lassie, what have ye been about? -Have ye done all this this morning? Ye must -have got up in the middle of the night!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was but a rough sketch, after all—or the -beginnings of a sketch, rather—of the wide, -beautiful sea and mountain view from the -garden of Castle Osprey.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought, sir," said she, in a somewhat -hesitating way, "that you might perhaps be -so kind as to accept from me those sketches -I have made on board the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>—and—and -if they were at Denny-mains, I should like -to have the series complete—and—and it -would naturally begin with a sketch from the -garden here——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her for a moment, with a -grave, perhaps wistful, kindness in his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My lass, I would rather have seen you -at Denny-mains."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was the very last word he ever uttered -concerning the dream that had just been -destroyed. And it was only about this time, I -think, that we began to recognise the simple, -large, noble nature of this man. We had -been too much inclined to regard the mere -husks and externals of his character—to laugh -at his assumption of parochial importance, his -solemn discussions of the Semple case, his -idiotic stories about Homesh. And it was -not a mere freak of generosity that revealed -to us something of the finer nature of this old -Scotchman. People as rich as he have often -paid bigger sums than 10,300*l.* for the -furtherance of a hobby. But it was to put away his -hobby—it was to destroy for ever the "dream -of his old age"—that he had been thus -munificent towards this girl. And there was no -complaint or regret. He had told us it was -time for him to put away childish things. -And this was the last word said—"My lass, -I would rather have seen you at Denny-mains."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird was exceedingly facetious at this -breakfast-party, and his nephew had a bad time -of it. There were mysterious questions about -Messrs. Hughes, Barnes, and Barnes; as to -whether consultations were best held in -stubble or in turnips; or whether No. 5 shot -was the best for bringing down briefs; and -so forth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never mind, uncle," said the Youth good-naturedly. -"I will send you some partridges -for the larder of the yacht."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You need not do anything of the kind," -said the Laird; "before you are in Bedfordshire -the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> will be many a mile away -from the course of luggage steamers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, are you ready to start, then, sir?" -said his hostess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This very meenute, if it pleases you," said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked rather alarmed, but said nothing. -In the meantime the waggonette had come to -the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by there was a small party assembled -on the steps to see the Youth drive off. And -now the time had come for him to make that -speech of thanks which his uncle had pointed -out was distinctly due from him. The Laird, -indeed, regarded his departure with a critical -air; and no doubt waited to see how his -nephew would acquit himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps the Youth had forgotten. At all -events, having bidden good-bye to the others, -he shook hands last of all with his hostess, -and said lightly—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you very much. I have enjoyed -the whole thing tremendously."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he jumped into the waggonette, and -took off his cap as a parting salute; and -away he went. The Laird frowned. When -he was a young man that was not the way -in which hospitality was acknowledged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Mary Avon turned from regarding the -departing waggonette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are we to get ready to start?" said she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you say, sir?" asks the hostess of -the Laird.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am at your service," he replies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so it appeared to be arranged. But -still Queen Titania looked irresolute and -uneasy. She did not at once set the whole -house in an uproar; or send down for the men; -or begin herself to harry the garden. She -kept loitering about the door; pretending to -look at the signs of the weather. At last -Mary said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, in any case, you will be more than -an hour in having the things carried down; so -I will do a little bit more to that sketch in the -meantime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The moment she was gone, her hostess says -in a hurried whisper to the Laird—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you come into the library, sir, for a -moment?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He obediently followed her; and she shut -the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are we to start without Angus Sutherland?" -she asked, without circumlocution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon, ma'am," said the wily -Laird.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she was forced to explain, which she -did in a somewhat nervous manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary has told me, sir, of your very, very -great generosity to her. I hope you will let -me thank you too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is not another word to be said about -it," he said simply. "I found a small matter -wrong in the world that I thought I could put -right; and I did it; and now we start fresh -and straight again. That is all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But about Angus Sutherland," said she -still more timidly. "You were quite right in -your conjectures—at least, I imagine so—indeed, -I am sure of it. And now, don't you -think we should send for him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The other day, ma'am," said he slowly, -"I informed ye that when I considered my part -done I would leave the matter in your hands -entirely. I had to ask some questions of the -lass, no doubt, to make sure of my ground; -though I felt it was not a business fit for an -old bachelor like me to intermeddle wi'. I am -now of opinion that it would be better, as I -say, to leave the matter in your hands entirely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman looked rather bewildered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what am I to do?" said she. "Mary -will never allow me to send for him—and I -have not his address in any case——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird took a telegram from his breast-pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There it is," said he, "until the end of -this week, at all events."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at it hesitatingly; it was from -the office of the magazine that Angus Sutherland -edited; and was in reply to a question of -the Laird's. Then she lifted her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think I might ask Mary herself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is for a woman to decide," said he; -and again she was thrown back on her own resources.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, this midge of a woman has some -courage too. She began to reflect on what -the Laird had adventured, and done, for the -sake of this girl; and was she not prepared to -risk something also? After all, if these two -had been fostering a vain delusion, it would be -better to have it destroyed at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so she went out into the garden, where -she found Miss Avon again seated at her easel. -She went gently over to her; she had the -telegram in her hand. For a second or two -she stood irresolute; then she boldly walked -across the lawn, and put her hand on the girl's -shoulder. With the other hand she held the -telegram before Mary Avon's eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary," said she, in a very low and gentle -voice, "will you write to him now and ask -him to come back?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl dropped the brush she had been -holding on to the grass, and her face got very -pale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how could I do that?" said she, in an -equally low—and frightened—voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You sent him away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no answer. The elder woman -waited; she only saw that Mary Avon's fingers -were working nervously with the edge of the palette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary," said she at length, "am I right -in imagining the cause of your sending him -away? May I write and explain, if you will not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how can you explain?" the girl said, -almost piteously. "It is better as it is. Did -you not hear what the kindest friend I ever -found in the world had to say of me yesterday, -about young people who were too prudent, -and were mercenary; and how he had no -respect for young people who thought too -much about money——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary, Mary!" the other said, "he was -not speaking about you. You mercenary! He -was speaking about a young man who would -throw over his sweetheart for the sake of -money. You mercenary! Well, let me appeal -to Angus! When I explain to him, and ask -him what he thinks of you, I will abide by his -answer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I did not think of myself; it was for -his sake I did it," said the girl, in a somewhat -broken voice; and tears began to steal down -her cheeks, and she held her head away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well then, I won't bother you anymore, -Mary," said the other, in her kindliest way. -"I won't ask you to do anything, except to get -ready to get down to the yacht."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At once?" said the girl, instantly getting -up, and drying her eyes. She seemed greatly -relieved by this intimation of an immediate start.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As soon as the men have the luggage -taken down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that will be very pleasant," said she, -immediately beginning to put away her colours. -"What a fine breeze! I am sure I shall be -ready in fifteen minutes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the usual bustle began; messages -flying up and down, and the gig and dingay -racing each other to the shore and back again. -By twelve o'clock everything had been got on -board. Then the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> gently glided -away from her moorings; we had started on -our last and longest voyage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed innumerable ages since we had -been in our sea-home. And that first glance -round the saloon—as our absent friend the -Doctor had remarked—called up a multitude -of recollections, mostly converging to a general -sense of snugness, and remoteness, and good -fellowship. The Laird sank down into a -corner of one of the couches, and said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I think I could spend the rest of -my days in this yacht. It seems as if I had -lived in it for many, many years."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Miss Avon would not let him remain -below; it was a fine sailing day; and very -soon we were all on deck. A familiar scene?—this -expanse of blue sea, curling with white -here and there; with a dark blue sky overhead, -and all around the grand panorama of -mountains in their rich September hues? The -sea is never familiar. In its constant and -moving change, its secret and slumbering -power, its connection with the great unknown -beyond the visible horizon, you never become -familiar with the sea. We may recognise the -well-known landmarks as we steal away to -the north—the long promontory and white -lighthouse of Lismore, the ruins of Duart, the -woods of Scallasdale, the glimpse into Loch -Aline—and we may use these things only to -calculate our progress; but always around us -is the strange life, and motion, and infinitude -of the sea, which never becomes familiar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We had started with a light favourable wind, -of the sort that we had come to call a -Mary-Avon-steering breeze; but after luncheon this -died away, and we lay icily for a long time -opposite the dark green woods of Fuinary. -However, there was a wan and spectral look -about the sunshine of this afternoon, and there -were some long, ragged shreds of cloud in -the southern heavens—just over the huge -round shoulders of the Mull mountains—that -told us we were not likely to be harassed by -any protracted calms. And, in fact, occasional -puffs and squalls came over from the south -which, if they did not send us on much farther, -at least kept everybody on the alert.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And at length we got it. The gloom over -the mountains had deepened, and the streaks -of sunlit sky that were visible here and there -had a curious coppery tinge about them. -Then we heard a hissing in towards the shore, -and the darkening band on the sea spread -rapidly out to us; then there was a violent -shaking of blocks and spars, and, as the </span><em class="italics">White -Dove</em><span> bent to the squall, a most frightful clatter -was heard below, showing that some careless -people had been about. Then away went the -yacht like an arrow! We cared little for the -gusts of rain that came whipping across from -time to time. We would not even go down -to see what damage had been done in the -cabins. John of Skye, with his savage hatred -of the long calms we had endured, refused to -lower his gaff topsail. At last he was "letting -her have it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We spun along, with the water hissing away -from our wake; but the squall had not had -time to raise anything of a sea, so there was -but little need for the women to duck their -heads to the spray. Promontory after -promontory, bay after bay was passed, until far -ahead of us, through the driving mists of rain, -we could make out the white shaft of Ru-na-Gaul -lighthouse. But here another condition -of affairs confronted us. When we turned her -nose to the south, to beat in to Tobermory -harbour, the squall was coming tearing out of -that cup among the hills with an exceeding -violence. When the spray sprang high at the -bows, the flying shreds of it that reached us -bore an uncommon resemblance to the thong -of a whip. The topsail was got down, the -mizen taken in, and then we proceeded to fight -our way into the harbour in a series of tacks -that seemed to last only a quarter of a second. -What with the howling of the wind, that blew -back his orders in his face; and what with -the wet decks, that caused the men to stumble -now and again; and what with the number of -vessels in the bay, that cut short his tacks at -every turn, Captain John of Skye had an -exciting time of it. But we knew him of old. -He "put on" an extra tack, when there was -no need for it, and slipped though between a -fishing-smack and a large schooner, merely for -the sake of "showing off." And then the -</span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> was allowed to go up to the -wind, and slowly slackened her pace, and the -anchor went out with a roar. We were -probably within a yard of the precise spot where -we had last anchored in the Tobermory bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It blew and rained hard all that evening, -and we did not even think of going on deck -after dinner. We were quite content as we -were. Somehow a new and secret spirit of -cheerfulness had got possession of certain -members of this party, without any -ostensible cause. There was no longer the -depression that had prevailed about West Loch -Tarbert. When Mary Avon played bezique -with the Laird, it was to a scarcely audible -accompaniment of "The Queen's Maries."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor did the evening pass without an -incident worthy of some brief mention. There -is, in the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>, a state-room which -really acts as a passage, during the day, -between the saloon and the forecastle; and when -this state-room is not in use, Master Fred is -in the habit of converting it into a sort of -pantry, seeing that it adjoins his galley. Now, -on this evening, when our shifty Friedrich d'or -came in with soda-water and such like things, -he took occasion to say to the Rear-Admiral -of the Fleet on board—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon, mem, but there is no -one now in this state-room, and will I use it -for a pantry?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will do nothing of the kind, Fred," -said she quite sharply.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-toast"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A TOAST.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I am almost afraid of what I have done; -but it is past recall now:" this is the -mysterious sentence one hears on climbing up the -companion next morning. It is Queen Titania -and the Laird who are talking; but as soon -as a third person appears they become -consciously and guiltily silent. What does it -matter? We have other work on hand than -prying into twopenny-halfpenny secrets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For we have resolved on starting away for -the north in spite of this fractious weather. A -more unpromising-looking morning indeed for -setting out could not well be imagined—windy, -and wet, and squally; the driven green sea -outside springing white where it meets the line of -the coast; Loch Sunart and its mountains -hidden away altogether behind the mists of -rain; wan flashes of sunlight here and there -only serving to show how swiftly the clouds -are flying. But the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> has been -drying her wings all the summer; she can -afford to face a shower now. And while the -men are hoisting the sail and getting the -anchor hove short, our two women-folk array -themselves in tightly-shaped ulsters, with -hoods drawn over their heads; and the Laird -appears in a waterproof reaching to his heels; -and even the skylights have their tarpaulins -thrown over. Dirty weather or no, we mean -to start.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There are two or three yachts in the bay, -the last of the summer-fleet all hastening away -to the south. There is no movement on the -decks of any one of them. Here and there, -however, in sheltered places—under a bit of -awning, or standing by the doors of -deck-saloons—we can make out huddled groups of -people, who are regarding, with a pardonable -curiosity, the operations of John of Skye and -his merry men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They take us for maniacs," says Queen -Titania from out of her hood, "to be setting -out for the north in such weather."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And we were nearly affording those amiable -spectators a pretty sight. The wind coming in -variable gusts, the sails failed to fill at the proper -moment, and the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> drifted right on -to the bows of a great schooner, whose -bowsprit loomed portentous overhead. There was -a wild stampede for boat-hooks and oars; and -then with arms, and feet, and poles—aided by -the swarming crew of the schooner—we managed -to clear her with nothing more serious than -an ominous grating along the gig. And then the -wind catching her, she gradually came under -the control of Captain John; and away we -went for the north, beating right in the teeth -of the gusts that came tearing over from the -mouth of Loch Sunart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a bad wind, mem, for getting up -to Isle Ornsay," says John of Skye to the -Admiral. "Ay, and the sea pretty coorse, -too, when we get outside Ardnamurchan."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, listen to me, John," she says severely, -and with an air of authority—as much authority, -that is to say, as can be assumed by a midge -enclosed in an ulster. "I am not going to -have any of that. I know you of old. As -soon as you get out of Tobermory, you immediately -discover that the wind is against our going -north; and we turn round and run away down -to Iona and the Bull-hole. I will not go to the -Bull-hole. If I have to sail this yacht myself, -night and day, I will go to Isle Ornsay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If ye please, mem," says John of Skye, -grinning with great delight over her facetiousness. -"Oh, I will tek the yat to Isle Ornsay -very well, if the leddies not afraid of a little -coorse sea. And you will not need to sail the -yat at all, mem. But I not afraid to let you -sail the yat. You will know about the sailing -now shist as much as Mr. Sutherland."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the mention of this name, Queen Titania -glanced at Mary Avon, perceived she was not -listening, and went nearer to John of Skye, and -said something to him in a lower voice. There -was a quick look of surprise and pleasure on -the handsome, brown-bearded face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I ferry glad of that, mem," said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush, John! Not a word to anybody," said she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time we had beat out of the harbour, -and were now getting longer tacks; so that, -when the sheets were properly coiled, it was -possible for the Laird and Miss Avon to -attempt a series of short promenades on the -wet decks. It was an uncertain and unstable -performance, to be sure; for the sea was -tumultuous; but it served.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mutual help—that's the thing," said the -Laird to his companion, as together they -staggered along, or stood steady to confront a -particularly fierce gust of wind. "We are -independent of the world—this solitary vessel -out in the waste of waters—but we are not -independent of each other. It just reminds me of -the small burghs outside Glasgow; we wish to -be independent of the great ceety lying near -us; we prefer to have a separate existence; -but we can help each other for all that in a -most unmistakeable way——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here the Laird was interrupted by the -calling out of Captain John—"</span><em class="italics">Ready about!</em><span>" -and he and his companion had to get out of the -way of the boom. Then they resumed their -promenade, and he his discourse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do ye think, for example," said this -profound philosopher, "that any one burgh -would have been competent to decide on a -large question like the clauses of the Police -Act that refer to cleansing and lighting?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not sure," Miss Avon admitted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," said he confidently, "large -questions should be considered in common -council—with every opportunity of free discussion. -I do not much like to speak about local matters, -or of my own share in them, but I must take -credit for this, that it was myself recommended -to the Commissioners to summon a public -meeting. It was so, and the meeting was -quite unanimous. It was Provost McKendrick, -ye must understand, who formally made the -proposal that the consideration of those clauses -should be remitted to the clerks of the various -burghs, who were to report; but the suggestion -was really mine—I make no scruple in claiming -it. And then, see the result! When the six -clerks were agreed, and sent in their report, look -at the authority of such a document! Who but -an ass would make freevolous objections?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird laughed aloud.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was that crayture, Johnny Guthrie," said -he, "as usual! I am not sure that I have -mentioned his name to ye before?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, I think so, sir," remarked Miss Avon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was that crayture, Johnny Guthrie—in -the face of the unanimous report of the whole -six clerks! Why, what could be more -reasonable than that the lighting of closes and -common stairs should fall on the landlords, but -with power to recover from the tenants; while -the cleansing of back-courts—being a larger -and more general measure—should be the work -of the commissioners and chargeable in the -police rates? It is a great sanitary work that -benefits every one; why should not all have a -hand in paying for it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Avon was understood to assent; but the -fact was that the small portion of her face left -uncovered by her hood had just then received -an unexpected bath of salt water; and she had -to halt for a moment to get out a handkerchief -from some sub-ulsterian recess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," continued the Laird, as they resumed -their walk, "what does this body Guthrie do -but rise and propose that the landlords—mind -ye, the landlords alone—should be rated for -the expense of cleaning the back-courts! I -declare there are some folk seem to think that -a landlord is made of nothing but money, and -that it is everybody's business to harry him, and -worry him, and screw every farthing out of -him. If Johnny Guthrie had half a dozen -lands of houses himself, what would he say -about the back-courts then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This triumphant question settled the matter; -and we haled the Laird below for luncheon. -Our last glance round showed us the Atlantic -of a silvery grey, and looking particularly -squally; with here and there a gleam of pale -sunshine falling on the long headland of -Ardnamurchan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was evidently some profound secret about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, ma'am, and where will we get to the -night, do ye think?" said the Laird, cheerfully, -as he proceeded to carve a cold fowl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is of no consequence," said the other, -with equal carelessness. "You know we must -idle away a few days somewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Idle away a few days?—and this </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -bent on a voyage to the far north when the -very last of the yachts were fleeing south!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean," said she hastily, in order to -retrieve her blunder, "that Captain John is not -likely to go far away from the chance of a -harbour until he sees whether this is the -beginning of the equinoctials or not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The equinoctials?" said the Laird, anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They sometimes begin as early as this; but -not often. However, there will always be -some place where we can run in to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The equinoctials, indeed! When we went -on deck again we found not only that those -angry squalls had ceased, but that the wind had -veered very considerably in our favour, and we -were now running and plunging past -Ardnamurchan Point. The rain had ceased too; -the clouds had gathered themselves up in -heavy folds; and their reflected blackness lay -over the dark and heaving Atlantic plain. Well -was it for these two women that luncheon had -been taken in time. What one of them had -dubbed the Ardnamurchan Wobble—which she -declared to be as good a name for a waltz as the -Liverpool Lurch—had begun in good earnest; -and the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> was dipping, and rolling, and -springing in the most lively fashion. There was -not much chance for the Laird and Mary Avon -to resume their promenade; when one of the -men came aft to relieve John of Skye at the -wheel, he had to watch his chance, and come -clambering along by holding on to the shrouds, -the rail of the gig, and so forth. But -Dr. Sutherland's prescription had its effect. -Despite the Ardnamurchan Wobble and all -its deeds, there was no ghostly and silent -disappearance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so we ploughed on our way during the -afternoon, the Atlantic appearing to grow -darker and darker, as the clouds overhead -seemed to get banked up more thickly. The -only cheerful bit of light in this gloomy -picture was a streak or two of sand at the foot -of the sheer and rocky cliffs north of -Ardnamurchan Light; and those we were rapidly -leaving behind as the brisk breeze—with a -kindness to which we were wholly strangers—kept -steadily creeping round to the south.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dark evening wore on, and we were -getting well up towards Eigg, when a strange -thing became visible along the western horizon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>First the heavy purple clouds showed a tinge -of crimson, and then a sort of yellow smoke -appeared close down at the sea. This golden -vapour widened, cleared, until there was a -broad belt of lemon-coloured sky all along the -edge of the world; and in this wonder of -shining light appeared the island of Rum—to -all appearance as transparent as a bit of the -thinnest gelatine, and in colour a light purple -rose. It was really a most extraordinary sight. -The vast bulk of this mountainous island, -including the sombre giants Haleval and -Haskeval, seemed to have less than the -consistency of a cathedral window; it resembled -more a pale, rose-coloured cloud; and the -splendour of it, and the glow of the golden sky -beyond, were all the more bewildering by -reason of the gloom of the overhanging clouds -that lay across like a black bar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" said the Laird—and here he paused, -for the amazement in his face could not at once -find fitting words. "That beats a'!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And it was a cheerful and friendly light too, -that now came streaming over to us from -beyond the horizon-line. It touched the sails -and the varnished spars with a pleasant colour. -It seemed to warm and dry the air, and tempted -the women to put aside their ulsters. Then -began a series of wild endeavours to achieve a -walk on deck, interrupted every second or two -by some one or other being thrown against the -boom, or having to grasp at the shrouds in -passing. But it resulted in exercise, at all -events; and meanwhile we were still making -our way northward, with the yellow star of -Isle Ornsay lighthouse beginning to be visible -in the gathering dusk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening at dinner the secret came out. -There cannot be the slightest doubt that the -disclosure of it had been carefully planned by -these two conspirators; and that they -considered themselves amazingly profound in -giving to it a careless and improvised air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never sit down to dinner now, ma'am," -observed the Laird, in a light and graceful -manner, "without a feeling that there is -something wanting in the saloon. The table is not -symmetrical. That should occur to Miss -Mary's eye at once. One at the head, one -my side, two yours; no, that is not as -symmetrical as it used to be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think I do not feel that too?" -says his hostess. "And that is not the only -time at which I wish that Angus were back -with us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one had a word to say for poor Howard -Smith, who used to sit at the foot of the -table, in a meek and helpful capacity. No -one thought of summoning him back to make -the arrangement symmetrical. Perhaps he -was being consoled by Messrs. Hughes, -Barnes, and Barnes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the longer the nights are growing, -I get to miss him more and more," she says, -with a beautiful pathos in her look. "He -was always so full of activity and cheerfulness—the -way he enjoyed life on board the yacht -was quite infectious; and then his constant -plans and suggestions. And how he looked -forward to this long trip! though, to be sure, -he struggled hard against the temptation. I -know the least thing would have turned the -scale, Italy or no Italy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, ma'am," says the Laird, laughing -prodigiously, "I should not wonder, if you -sent him a message at this minute, to find him -coming along post-haste and joining us, after -all. What is Eetaly? I have been in Eetaly -myself. Ye might live there a hundred years, -and never see anything so fine in colour as -that sunset we saw this very evening. And -if it is business he is after, bless me! cannot -a young man be a young man sometimes, and -have the courage to do something imprudent? -Come now, write to him at once! I will take -the responsibility myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To tell you the truth, sir," said the other -timidly—but she pretends she is very anxious -about the safety of a certain distant wine-glass—"I -took a sudden notion into my head -yesterday morning, and sent him a message."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me!" he cries. The hypocrite!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Mary Avon all the while sits mute, -dismayed, not daring to turn her face to the -light. And the small white hand that holds -the knife: why does it tremble so?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The fact is," says Queen Titania carelessly, -just as if she were reading a bit out of a -newspaper, "I sent him a telegram, to save -time. And I thought it would be more -impressive if I made it a sort of round-robin, -don't you know—as far as that can be done -on a telegraph-form—and I said that each -and all of us demanded his instant return, -and that we should wait about Isle Ornsay -or Loch Hourn until he joined us. So you -see, sir, we may have to try your patience for -a day or two."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye may try it, but ye will not find it -wanting," said the Laird, with serious courtesy. -"I do not care how long I wait for the young -man, so long as I am in such pleasant society. -Ye forget, ma'am, what life one is obliged to -live at Denny-mains, with public affairs -worrying one from the morning till the night. -Patience? I have plenty of patience. But -all the same I would like to see the young -man here. I have a great respect for him, -though I consider that some of his views may -not be quite sound—that will mend—that will -mend; and now, my good friends, I will take -leave to propose a toast to ye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We knew the Laird's old-fashioned ways, -and had grown to humour them. There was -a pretence of solemnly filling glasses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going," said the Laird, in a formal -manner, "to propose to ye the quick and safe -return of a friend. May all good fortune -attend him on his way, and may happiness -await him at the end of his journey!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no dissentient; but there was -one small white hand somewhat unsteady, as -the girl, abashed and trembling and silent, -touched the glass with her lips.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="expectations"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">EXPECTATIONS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was a fine piece of acting. These two -continued to talk about the coming of our -young Doctor as if it were the most simple -and ordinary affair possible. All its bearings -were discussed openly, to give you to -understand that Mary Avon had nothing in the -world to do with it. It was entirely a practical -arrangement for the saving of time. By -running across to Paris he would jump over -the interval between our leaving West Loch -Tarbert and this present setting-out for the -north. Mary Avon was asked about this -point and that point: there was no reason why -she should not talk about Angus Sutherland -just like any other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, indeed, there was little call for any -pale apprehension on the face of the girl, or -for any quick look round when a sudden sound -was heard. It was not possible for Angus to -be anywhere in our neighbourhood as yet. -When we went on deck next morning, we -found that we had been idly drifting about -all night, and that we were now far away from -any land. The morning sun was shining on -the dark green woods of Armadale, and on -the little white sharp point of Isle Ornsay -lighthouse, and on the vast heather-purpled -hills in the north; while over there the -mountains above Loch Hourn were steeped -in a soft mysterious shadow. And then, by -and by, after breakfast, some light puffs of -westerly wind began to ruffle the glassy surface -of the sea; and the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> almost -insensibly drew nearer and nearer to the entrance -of that winding loch that disappeared away -within the dusky shadows of those overhanging -hills. Late on as it was in the autumn, the -sun was hot on the sails and the deck; and -these cool breezes were welcome in a double -sense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We saw nothing of the accustomed gloom -of Loch Hourn. The sheer sides of the -great mountains were mostly in shadow, it is -true; but then the ridges and plateaus were -burning in the sunlight; and the waters of the -loch around us were blue, and lapping, and -cheerful. We knew only that the place was -vast, and still, and silent; we could make out -scarcely any sign of habitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, as the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> still glided on her -way, we opened out a little indentation of the -land behind an island; and there, nestled at -the foot of the hill, we descried a small -fishing-village. The cottages, the nets drying on the -poles, the tiny patches of cultivated ground -behind, all seemed quite toy-like against the -giant and overhanging bulk of the hills. But -again we drew away from Camus Ban—that is, -the White Bay—and got further and further -into the solitudes of the mountains, and away -from any traces of human life. When about -mid-day we came to anchor, we found ourselves -in a sort of cup within the hills, apparently -shut off from all the outer world, and in a -stillness so intense that the distant whistle of -a curlew was quite startling. A breath of -wind that blew over from the shore brought -us a scent of honeysuckle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At luncheon we found to our amazement that -a fifth seat had been placed at table, and that -plates, glasses, and what not had been laid for -a guest. A guest in these wilds?—there was -not much chance of such a thing, unless the -King of the Seals or the Queen of the -Mermaids were to come on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when we had taken our seats, and were -still regarding the vacant chair with some -curiosity, the Laird's hostess was pleased to -explain. She said to him, with a shy smile,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not forgotten what you said; and I -quite agree with you that it balances the table -better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But not an empty chair," said the Laird, -severely; perhaps thinking it was an evil omen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know the German song," said she, -"and how the last remaining of the comrades -filled the glasses with wine, and how the ghosts -rattled the glasses. Would you kindly fill -that glass, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She passed the decanter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not, begging your pardon," said the -Laird, sternly, for he did not approve of these -superstitions. And forthwith he took the deck -chair and doubled it up, and threw it on the -couch. "We want the young man Sutherland -here, and not any ghost. I doubt not but that -he has reached London by now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that a dead silence. Were there any -calculations about time; or were we wondering -whether, amid the roar and whirl and moving -life of the great city, he was thinking of the -small floating-home far away, amid the solitude -of the seas and the hills? The deck-chair -was put aside, it is true, for the Laird -shrank from superstition; but the empty glass, -and the plates and knives, and so forth, -remained; and they seemed to say that -our expected guest was drawing nearer and -nearer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, John," said Queen Titania, getting -on deck again, and looking round, "I think we -have got into Fairyland at last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John of Skye did not seem quite to understand, -for his answer was—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, mem, it is a fearful place for -squahls."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For squalls!" said she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No wonder she was surprised. The sea -around us was so smooth that the only motion -visible on it was caused by an exhausted wasp -that had fallen on the glassy surface and was -making a series of small ripples in trying to -get free again. And then, could anything be -more soft and beautiful than the scene around -us—the great mountains clad to the summit -with the light foliage of the birch; silver -waterfalls that made a vague murmur in the -air; an island right ahead with picturesquely -wooded rocks; an absolutely cloudless sky -above—altogether a wonder of sunlight and -fair colours? Squalls? The strange thing -was, not that we had ventured into a region -of unruly winds, but that we had got enough -wind to bring us in at all. There was now -not even enough to bring us the scent of the -honeysuckle from the shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the afternoon we set out on an expedition, -nominally after wild-duck, but in reality in -exploration of the upper reaches of the loch. -We found a narrow channel between the -island and the mainland, and penetrated into -the calm and silent waters of Loch Hourn -Beg. And still less did this offshoot of the -larger loch accord with that gloomy name—the -Lake of Hell. Even where the mountains -were bare and forbidding, the warm evening -light touched the granite with a soft rose-grey; -and reflections of this beautiful colour were -here and there visible amid the clear blue of -the water. We followed the windings of the -narrow and tortuous loch; but found no -wild-duck at all. Here and there a seal stared at -us as we passed. Then we found a crofter's -cottage, and landed, to the consternation of -one or two handsome wild-eyed children. A -purchase of eggs ensued, after much voluble -Gaelic. We returned to the yacht.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening, as we sate on deck, watching -the first stars beginning to tremble in the blue, -some one called attention to a singular light -that was beginning to appear along the -summits of the mountains just over us—a silvery-grey -light that showed us the soft foliage of -the birches, while below the steep slopes grew -more sombre as the night fell. And then we -guessed that the moon was somewhere on the -other side of the loch, as yet hidden from us -by those black crags that pierced into the -calm blue vault of the sky. This the Lake -of Hell, indeed! By and by we saw the -silver rim appear above the black line of -the hills; and a pale glory was presently -shining around us, particularly noticeable -along the varnished spars. As the white -moon sailed up, this solitary cup in the -mountains was filled with the clear radiance, -and the silence seemed to increase. We -could hear more distinctly than ever the -various waterfalls. The two women were -walking up and down the deck; and each -time that Mary Avon turned her profile to -the light the dark eyebrows and dark -eyelashes seemed darker than ever against the -pale, sensitive, sweet face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But after a while she gently disengaged -herself from her friend, and came and sate -down by the Laird: quite mutely, and waiting -for him to speak. It is not to be supposed -that she had been in any way more -demonstrative towards him since his great act of -kindness; or that there was any need for him -to have purchased her affection. That was of -older date. Perhaps, if the truth were told, -she was rather less demonstrative now; for we -had all discovered that the Laird had a nervous -horror of anything that seemed to imply a -recognition of what he had done. It was -merely, he had told us, a certain wrong thing -he had put right: there was no more to be -said about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, her coming and sitting down by -him was no unusual circumstance; and she -meekly left him his own choice, to speak to her -or not as he pleased. And he did speak—after -a time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was thinking," said he, "what a strange -feeling ye get in living on board a yacht in -these wilds: it is just as if ye were the only -craytures in the world. Would ye not think, -now, that the moon there belonged to this -circle of hills, and could not be seen by any -one outside it? It looks as if it were coming -close to the topmast; how can ye believe -that it is shining over Trafalgar Square in -London?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems very close to us on so clear a -night," says Mary Avon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And in a short time now," continued the -Laird, "this little world of ours—I mean the -little company on board the yacht—must be -dashed into fragments, as it were; and ye will -be away in London; and I will be at Denny-mains: -and who knows whether we may ever -see each other again? We must not grumble. -It is the fate of the best friends. But there is -one grand consolation—think what a -consolation it must have been to many of the poor -people who were driven away from these -Highlands—to Canada, and Australia, and -elsewhere—that after all the partings and sorrows of this -world there is the great meeting-place at last. -I would just ask this favour frae ye, my lass, -that when ye go back to London, ye would get -a book of our old Scotch psalm-tunes, and -learn the tune that is called </span><em class="italics">Comfort</em><span>. It begins -'Take comfort, Christians, when your friends.' It -is a grand tune that: I would like ye to -learn it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, certainly I will," said the girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I have been thinking," continued the -Laird, "that I would get Tom Galbraith to -make ye a bit sketch of Denny-mains, that ye -might hang up in London, if ye were so -minded. It would show ye what the place -was like; and after some years ye might begin -to believe that ye really had been there, and -that ye were familiar with it, as the home of an -old friend o' yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I hope to see Denny-mains for myself, -sir," said she, with some surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quick, strange look appeared for a moment -on the old Laird's face. But presently -he said—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, lass, ye will have other interest -and other duties. That is but proper and -natural. How would the world get on at all -if we were not to be dragged here and there -by diverse occupations?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the girl spoke, proudly and bravely—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if I have any duties in the world, I -think I know to whom I owe them. And it is -not a duty at all, but a great pleasure; and you -promised me, sir, that I was to see Denny-mains; -and I wish to pay you a long, long, -long visit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A long, long, long visit?" said the Laird -cheerfully. "No, no, lass. I just couldna be -bothered with ye. Ye would be in my way. -What interest could ye take in our parish -meetings, and the church </span><em class="italics">soirées</em><span>, and the like? -No, no. But if ye like to pay me a short, -short, short visit—at your own convenience—at -your own convenience, mind—I will get -Tom Galbraith through from Edinburgh, and -I will get out some of the younger Glasgowmen; -and if we do not, you and me, show -them something in the way of landscape-sketching, -that will just frighten them out of their -very wits, why then I will give ye leave to say -that my name is not Mary Avon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose then and took her hand, and began -to walk with her up and down the moonlit -deck. We heard something about the Haughs -o' Cromdale. The Laird was obviously not -ill-pleased that she had boldly claimed that -promised visit to Denny-mains.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="ye-are-welcome-glenogie"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"YE ARE WELCOME, GLENOGIE!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When, after nearly three months of glowing -summer weather, the heavens begin to look -as if they meditated revenge; when, in a -dead calm, a darkening gloom appears behind -the further hills, and slight puffs of wind, come -down vertically, spreading themselves out on -the glassy water; when the air is sultry, and -an occasional low rumble is heard, and the -sun looks white; then the reader of these -pages may thank his stars that he is not in -Loch Hourn. And yet it was not altogether -our fault that we were nearly caught in this -dangerous cup among the hills. We had lain -in these silent and beautiful waters for two -or three days, partly because of the exceeding -loveliness of the place, partly because we had -to allow Angus time to get up to Isle Ornsay, -but chiefly because we had not the option of -leaving. To get through the narrow and -shallow channel by which we had entered -we wanted both wind and tide in our favour; -and there was scarcely a breath of air during -the long, peaceful, shining days. At length, -when our sovereign mistress made sure that -the young Doctor must be waiting for us at -Isle Ornsay, she informed Captain John that -he must get us out of this place somehow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Deed, I not sorry at all," said John of -Skye, who had never ceased to represent to -us, that, in the event of bad weather coming -on, we should find ourselves in the lion's jaws.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, on the afternoon of the third day, it -became very obvious that something serious -was about to happen. Clouds began to bank -up behind the mountains that overhung the -upper reaches of the loch, and an intense -purple gloom gradually spread along those -sombre hills—all the more intense that the -little island in front of us, crossing the loch, -burned in the sunlight a vivid strip of green. -Then little puffs of wind fell here and there -on the blue water, and broadened out in a -silvery grey. We noticed that all the men -were on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the strange darkness of the loch increased, -as these vast mountains overhanging -the inner cup of the loch grew more and more -awful in the gloom, we began to understand -why the Celtic imagination had called this -place the Lake of Hell. Captain John kept -walking up and down somewhat anxiously, -and occasionally looking at his watch. The -question was whether we should get enough -wind to take us through the narrows before -the tide turned. In the meantime mainsail -and jib were set, and the anchor hove short.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last the welcome flapping and creaking -and rattling of blocks! What although this -brisk breeze came dead in our teeth? John -of Skye, as he called all hands to the windlass, -crave us to understand that he would rather -beat through the neck of a bottle than lie in -Loch Hourn that night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And it was an exciting piece of business -when we got further down the loch, and -approached this narrow passage. On the one -side sharp and sheer rocks; on the other -shallow banks that shone through the water; -behind us the awful gloom of gathering -thunder; ahead of us a breeze that came tearing -down from the hills in the most puzzling and -varying squalls. With a steady wind it would -have been bad enough to beat through those -narrows; but this wind kept shifting about -anyhow. Sharp was the word indeed. It -was a question of seconds as we sheered away -from the rocks on the one side, or from the -shoals on the other. And then, amidst it all, -a sudden cry from the women—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John! John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John of Skye knows his business too well -to attend to the squealing of women.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ready about!" he roars; and all hands -are at the sheets, and even Master Fred is -leaning over the bows, to watch the shallowness -of the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John, John!" the women cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Haul up the main tack, Hector! Ay, -that'll do. Ready about, boys!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this starboard tack is a little bit longer, -and John manages to cast an impatient glance -behind him. The sailor's eye in an instant -detects that distant object. What is it? Why, -surely some one in the stern of a rowing-boat, -standing up and violently waving a white -handkerchief, and two men pulling like mad -creatures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John, John! Don't you see it is Angus -Sutherland!" cries the older woman pitifully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time we are going bang on to a -sandbank; and the men, standing by the -sheets, are amazed that the skipper does not -put his helm down. Instead of that—and all -this happens in an instant—he eases the helm -up, the bows of the yacht fall away from the -wind, and just clear the bank. Hector of -Moidart jumps to the mainsheet and slacks -it out, and then, behold! the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> is -running free, and there is a sudden silence -on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, he must have come over from the -Caledonian Canal!" says Queen Titania, in -great excitement. "Oh, how glad I am!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But John of Skye takes advantage of this -breathing space to have another glance at his -watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll maybe beat the tide yet," he says confidently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And who is this who comes joyously clambering -up, and hauls his portmanteau after him, -and throws a couple of half-crowns into the -bottom of the black boat?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Angus!" his hostess cries to him, "you -will shake hands with us all afterwards. We -are in a dreadful strait. Never mind us—help -John if you can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile Captain John has again put the -nose of the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> at these perilous -narrows; and the young Doctor—perhaps -glad enough to escape embarrassment among -all this clamour—has thrown his coat off to -help; and the men have got plenty of anchor-chain -on deck, to let go the anchor if necessary; -and then again begins that manoeuvring -between the shallows and the rocks. What -is this new sense of completeness—of added -life—of briskness and gladness? Why do the -men seem more alert? and why this cheeriness -in Captain John's shouted commands? The -women are no longer afraid of either banks -or shoals; they rather enjoy the danger; when -John seems determined to run the yacht -through a mass of conglomerate, they know -that with the precision of clock-work she will -be off on the other tack; and they are laughing -at these narrow escapes. Perhaps it would be -more accurate to say that only one of them -laughs. Mary Avon is somewhat silent, and -she holds her friend's hand tight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tide or no tide, we get through the narrow -channel at last; and every one breathes more -freely when we are in the open. But we are -still far from being out of Loch Hourn; and -now the mountains in the south, too—one of -them apparently an extinct volcano—have -grown black as night; and the wind that -comes down from them in jerks and squalls -threatens to plunge our bulwarks under water. -How the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> flees away from this -gathering gloom! Once or twice we hear -behind us a roar, and turning we can see -a specially heavy squall tearing across the -loch; but here with us the wind continues to -keep a little more steady, and we go bowling -along at a whirling pace. Angus Sutherland -comes aft, puts on his coat, and makes his -formal entry into our society.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have just got out in time," says he, -laughing somewhat nervously, to his hostess. -"There will be a wild night in Loch Hourn -to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the beautiful calm we have had in -there!" she says. "We were beginning to -think that Loch Hourn was Fairyland."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And indeed the spectacle behind us was of a -nature to make us thankful that we had slipped -out of the lion's jaws. The waters of the loch -were being torn into spindrift by the squalls; -and the black clouds overhead were being -dragged into shreds as if by invisible hands; -and in the hollows below appeared a darkness -as if night had come on prematurely. And -still the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> flew and flew, as if she -knew of the danger behind her; and by and -by we were plunging and racing across the -Sound of Sleat. We had seen the last of -Loch Hourn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The clear golden ray of Isle Ornsay -lighthouse was shining through the dusk as we -made in for the sheltered harbour. We had -ran the dozen miles or so in a little over the -hour; and now dinner-time had arrived; and -we were not sorry to be in comparatively -smooth water. The men were sent ashore -with some telegram—the sending off of which -was the main object of our running in here; -and then Master Fred's bell summoned us -below from the wild and windy night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How rich and warm and cheerful was this -friendly glow of the candles, and how compact -the table seemed now, with the vacant space -filled at last! And every one appeared to be -talking hard, in order to show that Angus -Sutherland's return was a quite ordinary and -familiar thing; and the Laird was making -his jokes; and the young Doctor telling his -hostess how he had been sending telegrams -here and there until he had learned of the -</span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> having been seen going in to Loch -Hourn. Even Miss Avon, though she said -but little, shared in this general excitement -and pleasure. We could hear her soft laughter -from time to time. But her eyes were kept -away from the corner where Angus Sutherland sate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> lucky people," said he. "If -you had missed getting out of that hole by -half an hour, you might have been shut up -in it a fortnight. I believe a regular gale -from the south has begun."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is you who have brought it then," said -his hostess. "You are the stormy petrel. And -you did your best to make us miss the tide."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think we shall have some sailing now," -said he, rubbing his hands in great delight—he -pretends to be thinking only of the yacht. -"John talks of going on to-night, so as to -slip through the Kyle Rhea narrows with the -first of the flood-tide in the morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Going out to-night!" she exclaimed. "Is -it you who have put that madness into his -head? It must be pitch dark already. And -a gale blowing!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no!" he said, laughing. "There is -not much of a gale. And it cannot be very -dark with the moon behind the clouds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here a noise above told us the men had -come back from the small village. They -brought a telegram too; but it was of no -consequence. Presently—in fact, as soon as -he decently could—Angus left the dinner-table, -and went on deck. He had scarcely -dared to glance at the pale sensitive face -opposite him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by Queen Titania said, solemnly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no doubt about it; the men were -weighing anchor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That madman," said she, "has persuaded -Captain John to go to sea again—at this time -of night!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was Captain John's own wish. He -wishes to catch the tide in the morning," -observed Miss Avon, with her eyes cast down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right, my lass," said the Laird. -"Speak up for them who are absent. But, -indeed, I think I will go on deck myself now, -to see what's going on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We all went on deck, and there and then -unanimously passed a vote of approval on -Captain John's proceedings, for the wind had -moderated very considerably; and there was a -pale suffused light telling of the moon being -somewhere behind the fleecy clouds in the -south-east. With much content we perceived -that the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> was already moving out -of the dark little harbour. We heard the rush -of the sea outside without much concern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a pleasant sailing night after all. -When we had stolen by the glare of the -solitary lighthouse, and got into the open, we -found there was no very heavy sea running, -while there was a steady serviceable breeze -from the south. There was moonlight abroad -too, though the moon was mostly invisible behind -the thin drifting clouds. The women, wrapped -up, sate hand-in-hand, and chatted to each -other; the Doctor was at the tiller; the Laird -was taking an occasional turn up and down, -sometimes pausing to challenge general -attention by some profound remark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And very soon we began to perceive that -Angus Sutherland had by some inscrutable -means got into the Laird's good graces in a -most marked degree. Denny-mains, on this -particular night, as we sailed away northward, -was quite complimentary about the march of -modern science, and the service done to -humanity by scientific men. He had not even an -ill word for the </span><em class="italics">Vestiges of Creation</em><span>. He went -the length of saying that he was not scholar -enough to deny that there might be various -ways of interpreting the terms of the Mosaic -chronology; and expressed a great interest in -the terribly remote people who must have lived -in the lake-dwellings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't you believe that!" said our -steersman good-naturedly. "The scientifics -are only humbugging the public about those -lake-dwellings. They were only the -bath-houses and wash-houses of a comparatively -modern and civilised race, just as you see -them now on the Lake of a Thousand Islands, -and at the mouths of the Amazon, and even on -the Rhine. Surely you know the bath-houses -built on piles on the Rhine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me!" said the Laird, "that is -extremely interesting. It is a novel view—a -most novel view. But then the remains—what -of the remains? The earthen cups and -platters: they must have belonged to a very -preemitive race?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a bit," said the profound scientific -authority, with a laugh. "They were the -things the children amused themselves with, -when their nurses took them down there to be -out of the heat and the dust. They were a -very advanced race indeed. Even the children -could make earthen cups and saucers, while -the children now-a-days can only make mud-pies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't believe him, sir!" their hostess called -out; "he is only making a fool of us all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, but there's something in it—there's -something in it," said the Laird seriously; -and he took a step or two up and down the -deck, in deep meditation. "There's something -in it. It's plausible. If it is not sound, it is an -argument. It would be a good stick to break -over an ignorant man's head."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the Laird began to laugh aloud.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless me," said he, "if I could only inveigle -Johnny Guthrie into an argument about that! -I would give it him! I would give it him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was a shocking revelation. What had -come over the Laird's conscience that he -actually proposed to inveigle a poor man into a -controversy and then to hit him over the head -with a sophistical argument? We could not -have believed it. And here he was laughing -and chuckling to himself over that shameful -scheme.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our attention, however, was at this moment -suddenly drawn away from moral questions. -The rapidly driving clouds just over the wild -mountains of Loch Hourn parted, and the -moon glared out on the tumbling waves. But -what a curious moon it was!—pale and watery, -with a white halo around it, and with another -faintly-coloured halo outside that again -whenever the slight and vapoury clouds crossed. -John of Skye came aft.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I not like the look of that moon," said John -of Skye to the Doctor, but in an undertone, -so that the women should not hear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor I either," said the other, in an equally -low voice. "Do you think we are going to -have the equinoctials, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh no, not yet. It is not the time for the -equinoctials yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as we crept on through the night, now -and again from amid the wild and stormy -clouds above Loch Hourn the wan moon still -shone out; and then we saw something of the -silent shores we were passing, and of the awful -mountains overhead, stretching far into the -darkness of the skies. Then preparations -were made for coming to anchor; and by -and by the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> was brought round -to the wind. We were in a bay—if bay it -could be called—just south of Kyle Rhea -narrows. There was nothing visible along -the pale moonlit shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a very open place to anchor in, -John," our young Doctor ventured to remark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it is a good holding-ground; and -we will be away early in the morning -whatever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so, when the anchor was swung out, -and quiet restored over the vessel, we -proceeded to get below. There were a great -many things to be handed down; and a -careful search had to be made that nothing was -forgotten—we did not want to find soaked -shawls or books lying on the deck in the -morning. But at length all this was settled -too, and we were assembled once more in the -saloon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were assembled—all but two.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is Miss Mary?" said the Laird -cheerfully: he was always the first to miss -his companion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps she is in her cabin," said his -hostess somewhat nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And your young Doctor—why does he not -come down and have his glass of toddy like -a man?" said the Laird, getting his own -tumbler. "The young men now-a-days are -just as frightened as children. What with -their chemistry, and their tubes, and their -percentages of alcohol: there was none of that -nonsense when I was a young man. People -took what they liked, so long as it agreed -with them; and will anybody tell me there -is any harm in a glass of good Scotch -whisky?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She does not answer; she looks somewhat -preoccupied and anxious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay," continues the Laird, reaching over -for the sugar; "if people would only stop -there, there is nothing in the world makes -such an excellent night-cap as a single glass -of good Scotch whisky. Now, ma'am, I will -just beg you to try half a glass of my brewing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She pays no attention to him. For first of -all she now hears a light step on the -companion-way, and then the door of the ladies' -cabin is opened, and shut again. Then a -heavy step on the companion-way, and -Dr. Sutherland comes into the saloon. There is -a strange look on his face—not of dejection; -but he tries to be very reticent and modest, -and is inordinately eager in handing a knife -to the Laird for the cutting of a lemon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is Mary, Angus?" said his hostess, -looking at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She has gone into your cabin," said he, -looking up with a sort of wistful appeal in his -eyes. As plainly as possible they said, "Won't -you go to her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The unspoken request was instantly answered; -she got up and quietly left the saloon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, lad," said the Laird. "Are ye -afraid to try a glass of Scotch whisky? You -chemical men know too much: that is not -wholesome; and you a Scotchman too—take -a glass, man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twelve, if you like," said the Doctor, -laughing; "but one will do for my purpose. -I'm going to follow your example, sir; I am -going to propose a toast. It is a good old -custom."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was a proposal after the Laird's own -heart. He insisted on the women being -summoned; and they came. He took no notice -that Mary Avon was rose-red, and downcast of -face; and that the elder woman held her hand -tightly, and had obviously been crying a little -bit—not tears of sorrow. When they were -seated, he handed each a glass. Then he -called for silence, waiting to hear our Doctor -make a proper and courtly speech about his -hostess, or about the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>, or John of -Skye, or anything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what must have been the Laird's surprise -when he found that it was his own health -that was being proposed! And that not in -the manner of the formal oratory that the Laird -admired, but in a very simple and straightforward -speech, that had just a touch of personal -and earnest feeling in it. For the young -Doctor spoke of the long days and nights we -had spent together, far away from human ken; -and how intimately associated people became -on board ship; and how thoroughly one could -learn to know and love a particular character -through being brought into such close -relationship. And he said that friendships thus -formed in a week or a month might last for a -lifetime. And he could not say much, before -the very face of the Laird, about all those -qualities which had gained for him something -more than our esteem—qualities especially -valuable on board ship—good humour, -patience, courtesy, light-heartedness——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless me," cried the Laird, interrupting the -speaker in defiance of all the laws that govern -public oratory, "I maun stop this—I maun stop -this! Are ye all come together to make fun -of me—eh? Have a care—have a care!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked round threateningly; and his -eye lighted with a darker warning on Mary -Avon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That lass, too," said he; "and I thought -her a friend of mine; and she has come to -make a fool of me like the rest! And so ye -want to make me the Homesh o' this boat? -Well, I may be a foolish old man; but my eyes -are open. I know what is going on. Come -here, my lass, until I tell ye something."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mary Avon went and took the seat next him; -and he put his hand gently on her shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Young people will have their laugh and -their joke," said he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was no joke at all!" said she warmly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whisht, now. I say young people will -have their laugh and their joke at a foolish old -man; and who is to prevent them? Not me. -But I'll tell ye what: ye may have your sport -of me, on one condition."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He patted her once or twice on the shoulder, -just as if she was a child.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the condition is this, my lass—that ye -have the wedding at Denny-mains."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-equinoctials-at-last"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE EQUINOCTIALS AT LAST.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There was no dreaming of weddings at -Denny-mains, or elsewhere, for some of us -that night. It had been blowing pretty hard -when we turned in; but towards two or three -o'clock the wind increased to half a gale, while -heavy showers kept rattling along the decks. -Then there were other sounds. One of the -men was heard to clamber up the iron ladder -of the forecastle; and as soon as he had put -his head out, his contented exclamation was, -"Oh, ferry well; go on!" Then he came -below and roused his companions. Presently -there was a loud commotion on deck. This -was enough for our Doctor. One could hear -him rapidly dressing in his little -state-room—then staggering through the saloon, for the -wind was knocking about the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -considerably—then groping his way up the dark -companion. For some time there was a fine -turmoil going on above. Another anchor was -thrown out. The gig and dingay were brought -in on deck. All the skylights were fastened -down, and the tarpaulins put over. Then a -woman's voice—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Angus! Angus!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Doctor came tumbling down the companion; -by this time we had got a candle lit -in the saloon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" was heard from the partly -opened door of the ladies' cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing at all. A bit of a breeze has sprung up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary says you must stay below. Never -mind what it is. You are not to go on deck again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came into the saloon—all wet and -dripping, but exceedingly pleased to have -been thus thought of—and then he said in a -tragic whisper:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are in for it at last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The equinoctials?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So we turned in again, leaving the </span><em class="italics">White -Dove</em><span> to haul and strain at her cables all -through the night—swaying, pitching, groaning, -creaking, as if she would throw herself -free of her anchors altogether, and sweep away -over to Glenelg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, in the early morning, the gale had -apparently increased. While the women-folk -remained in their cabin, the others of us -adventured up the companion-way, and had a -look out. It was not a cheerful sight. All -around the green sea was being torn along -by the heavy wind; the white crests of the -waves being whirled up in smoke; the surge -springing high on the rocks over by Glenelg; -the sky almost black overhead; the mountains -that ought to have been quite near us invisible -behind the flying mists of the rain. Then -how the wind howled! Ordinarily the sound -was a low, moaning bass—even lower than the -sound of the waves; but then again it would -increase and rise into a shrill whistle, mostly -heard, one would have said, from about the -standing rigging and the crosstrees. But our -observation of these phenomena was brief, -intermittent, and somewhat ignominious. We -had to huddle in the companion-way like -Jacks-in-the-box; for the incautiously protruded head -was liable to be hit by a blast of rain that -came along like a charge of No. 6 shot. Then -we tumbled below for breakfast, and the scared -women-folk made their appearance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The equinoctials, Angus?" said Queen -Titania, with some solemnity of face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I suppose so," said he cheerfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I have been through them two or -three times before," said she, "but never in -an exposed place like this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall fight through it first-rate," said -he—and you should have seen Mary Avon's -eyes; she was clearly convinced that fifteen -equinoctial gales could not do us the slightest -harm so long as this young Doctor was on -board. "It is a fine stroke of luck that the -gale is from the south-west. If it had come -on from the east, we should have been in a -bad way. As it is, there is not a rock between -here and the opposite shore at Glenelg, and -even if we drag our anchors, we shall catch -up somewhere at the other side."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope we shall not have to trust to that," -says Queen Titania, who in her time has seen -something of the results of vessels dragging -their anchors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the day wore on, the fury of the gale still -increased: the wind moaning and whistling -by turns, the yacht straining at her cables, -and rolling and heaving about. Despite the -tender entreaties of the women, Dr. Angus -would go on deck again; for now Captain -John had resolved on lowering the topmast, -and also on getting the boom and mainsail -from their crutch down on to the deck. Being -above in this weather was far from pleasant. -The showers occasionally took the form of -hail; and so fiercely were the pellets driven -by the wind that they stung where they hit -the face. And the outlook around was dismal -enough—the green sea and its whirling -spindrift; the heavy waves breaking all along -the Glenelg shores; the writhing of the -gloomy sky. We had a companion, by the -way, in this exposed place—a great black -schooner that heavily rolled and pitched as -she strained at her two anchors. The skipper -of her did not leave her bows for a moment -the whole day, watching for the first symptom -of dragging.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then that night. As the darkness came -over, the wind increased in shrillness until it -seemed to tear with a scream through the -rigging; and though we were fortunately -under the lee of the Skye hills, we could hear -the water smashing on the bows of the yacht. -As night fell that shrill whistling and those -recurrent shocks grew in violence, until we began -to wonder how long the cables would hold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if our anchors give, I wonder where -we shall go to," said Queen Titania, in rather -a low voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care," said Miss Avon, quite contentedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was seated at dinner; and had -undertaken to cut up and mix some salad that -Master Fred had got at Loch Hourn. She -seemed wholly engrossed in that occupation. -She offered some to the Laird, very prettily; -and he would have taken it if it had been -hemlock. But when she said she did not -care where the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> might drift to, -we knew very well what she meant. And -some of us may have thought that a time -would perhaps arrive when the young lady -would not be able to have everything she -cared for in the world within the compass of -the saloon of a yacht.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now it is perhaps not quite fair to tell tales -out of school; but still the truth is the truth. -The two women were on the whole very -brave throughout this business; but on that -particular night the storm grew more and -more violent, and it occurred to them that -they would escape the risk of being rolled -out of their berths if they came along into -the saloon and got some rugs laid on the -floor. This they did; and the noise of the -wind and the sea was so great that none of -the occupants of the adjoining state-rooms -heard them. But then it appeared that no -sooner had they lain down on the floor—it -is unnecessary to say that they were dressed -and ready for any emergency—than they were -mightily alarmed by the swishing of water -below them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary! Mary!" said the one, "the sea is -rushing into the hold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other, knowing less about yachts, said -nothing; but no doubt, with the admirable -unselfishness of lovers, thought it was not of -much consequence, since Angus Sutherland -and she would be drowned together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what was to be clone? The only way -to the forecastle was through the Doctor's -state-room. There was no help for it; they -first knocked at his door, and called to him -that the sea was rushing into the hold; and -then he bawled into the forecastle until Master -Fred, the first to awake, made his appearance, -rubbing his knuckles into his eyes and saying, -"Very well, sir; is it hot water or cold water -ye want?" and then there was a general -commotion of the men getting on deck to try -the pumps. And all this brave uproar for -nothing. There was scarcely a gallon of -water in the hold; but the women, by putting -their heads close to the floor of the saloon, -had imagined that the sea was rushing in on -them. Such is the story of this night's -adventures as it was subsequently—and with -some shamefacedness—related to the writer of -these pages. There are some people who, -when they go to sleep, sleep, and refuse to pay -heed to twopenny-halfpenny tumults.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning the state of affairs was no -better; but there was this point in our favour, -that the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>, having held on so long, -was not now likely to drag her anchors and -precipitate us on the Glenelg shore. Again -we had to pass the day below, with the running -accompaniment of pitching and groaning on -the part of the boat, and of the shrill clamour -of the wind, and the rattling of heavy showers. -But as we sat at luncheon, a strange thing -occurred. A burst of sunlight suddenly came -through the skylight and filled the saloon, -moving backwards and forwards on the blue -cushions as the yacht swayed, and delighting -everybody with the unexpected glory of colour. -You may suppose that there was little more -thought of luncheon. There was an instant -stampede for waterproofs and a clambering up -the companion-way. Did not this brief burst -of sunlight portend the passing over of the -gale? Alas! alas! when we got on deck, we -found the scene around us as wild and stormy -as ever, with even a heavier sea now racing -up the Sound and thundering along Glenelg. -Hopelessly we went below again. The only -cheerful feature of our imprisonment was the -obvious content of those two young people. -They seemed perfectly satisfied with being -shut up in this saloon; and were always -quite surprised when Master Fred's summons -interrupted their draughts or bezique.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the third day the wind came in -intermittent squalls, which was something; and -occasionally there was a glorious burst of -sunshine that went flying across the grey-green -driven sea. But for the most part it rained -heavily; and the Ferdinand and Miranda -business was continued with much content. -The Laird had lost himself in Municipal -London. Our Admiral-in-chief was writing -voluminous letters to two youths at school in -Surrey, which were to be posted if ever we -reached land again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That night about ten o'clock a cheering -incident occurred. We heard the booming of -a steam-whistle. Getting up on deck, we could -make out the lights of a steamer creeping along -by the Glenelg shore. That was the Clydesdale -going north. Would she have faced -Ardnamurchan if the equinoctials had not moderated -somewhat? These were friendly lights.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then on the fourth day it became quite -certain that the gale was moderating. The -bursts of sunshine became more frequent; -patches of brilliant blue appeared in the sky; -a rainbow from time to time appeared between -us and the black clouds in the east. With -what an intoxication of joy we got out at last -from our long imprisonment, and felt the warm -sunlight around us, and watched the men get -ready to lower the gig so as to establish once -more our communications with the land. Mary -Avon would boldly have adventured into that -tumbling and rocking thing—she implored to -be allowed to go; if the Doctor were going -to pull stroke, why should she not be allowed -to steer? But she was forcibly restrained. -Then away went the shapely boat through -the plunging waters—showers of spray sweeping -her from stem to stern—until it disappeared -into the little bight of Kyle Rhea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The news brought back from the shore of -the destruction wrought by this gale—the -worst that had visited these coasts for -three-and-twenty years—was terrible enough; and -it was coupled with the most earnest warnings -that we should not set out. But the sunlight -had got into the brain of these long-imprisoned -people, and sent them mad. They implored -the doubting John of Skye to get ready to -start. They promised that if only he would -run up to Kyle Akin, they would not ask -him to go further, unless the weather was -quite fine. To move—to move—that was -their only desire and cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John of Skye shook his head; but so far -humoured them as to weigh one of the anchors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by, too, he had the topmast hoisted -again: all this looked more promising. Then, -as the afternoon came on, and the tide would -soon be turning, they renewed their entreaties. -John, still doubting, at length yielded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the joyful uproar! All hands were -summoned to the halyards, for the mainsail, -soaked through with the rain, was about as stiff -as a sheet of iron. And the weighing of the -second anchor—that was a cheerful sound -indeed. We paid scarcely any heed to this -white squall that was coming tearing along -from the south. It brought both rain and -sunlight with it: for a second or two we were -enveloped in a sort of glorified mist—then the -next minute we found a rainbow shining -between us and the black hull of the smack; -presently we were in glowing sunshine again. -And then at last the anchor was got up, and -the sails filled to the wind, and the mainsheet -slackened out. The </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>, released -once more, was flying away to the northern seas!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="flieh-auf-hinaus"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"FLIEH! AUF! HINAUS!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This splendid sense of life, and motion, and -brisk excitement! We flew through the narrows -like a bolt from a bow; we had scarcely time -to regard the whirling eddies of the current. -All hands were on the alert too, for the wind -came in gusts from the Skye hills, and this -tortuous strait is not a pleasant place to be -taken unawares in. But the watching and -work were altogether delightful, after our long -imprisonment. Even the grave John of Skye -was whistling "Fhir a bhata" to -himself—somewhat out of tune.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wild and stormy sunset was shining all -along the shores of Loch Alsh as we got out -of the narrows and came in sight of Kyle -Akin. And here were a number of vessels -all storm-stayed, one of them, in the distance, -with her sail set. We discovered afterwards -that this schooner had dragged her anchors -and run ashore at Balmacara; she was more -fortunate than many others that suffered in this -memorable gale, and was at the moment we -passed returning to her former anchorage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sunlight and the delight of moving -had certainly got into the heads of these -people. Nothing would do for them but that -John of Skye should go on sailing all night. -Kyle Akin? they would not hear of Kyle -Akin. And it was of no avail that Captain -John told them what he had heard ashore—that -the </span><em class="italics">Glencoe</em><span> had to put back with her -bulwarks smashed; that here, there, and -everywhere vessels were on the rocks; that -Stornoway harbour was full of foreign craft, not one -of which would put her nose out. They -pointed to the sea, and the scene around them. -It was a lovely sunset. Would not the moon -be up by eleven?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, mem," said John of Skye, with a -humorous smile, "I think if we go on the -night, there not mich chance of our rinning -against anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And indeed he was not to be outbraved by -a couple of women. When we got to Kyle -Akin, the dusk beginning to creep over land -and sea, he showed no signs of running in -there for shelter. We pushed through the -narrow straits, and came in view of the -darkening plain of the Atlantic, opening away -up there to the north, and as far as we could -see there was not a single vessel but -ourselves on all this world of water. The gloom -deepened; in under the mountains of Skye -there was a darkness as of midnight. But -one could still make out ahead of us the line -of the Scalpa shore, marked by the white -breaking of the waves. Even when that grew -invisible we had Rona light to steer by.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stormy and unsettled look of the sunset -had prepared us for something of a dirty -night, and as we went on both wind and sea -increased considerably. The south-westerly -breeze that had brought us so far at a -spanking rate began to veer round to the north, -and came in violent squalls, while the long -swell running down between Raasay and -Scalpa and the mainland caused the </span><em class="italics">White -Dove</em><span> to labour heavily. Moreover, the night -got as black as pitch, the moon had not arisen, -and it was lucky, in this laborious beating up -against the northerly squalls, that we had the -distant Rona light by which to judge of our -whereabouts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two women were huddled together in -the companion-way; it was the safest place for -them; we could just make out the two dark -figures in the ruddy glow coming up from -the saloon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't it splendid to be going like this," -said Miss Avon, "after lying at anchor so -long?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her friend did not answer. She had been -chiefly instrumental in persuading Captain John -to keep on during the night, and she did not -quite like the look of things. For one thing, -she had perceived that the men were all now -clad from head to foot in oilskins, though as yet -there was nothing but spray coming on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our young Doctor came aft, and tried to -get down the companion-way without disturbing -the two women.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going below for my waterproof and -leggings," said he, with a slight laugh. -"There will be some fun before this night -is over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tone of the girl altered in a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Angus," said she, grasping him by -the arm. "Pray don't do that! Leave the -men to work the boat. If there is any danger, -why don't they make away for the land -somewhere?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no danger," said he, "but there -will be a little water by and by."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The volume of the great waves was certainly -increasing, and a beautiful sight it was to mark -the red port-light shining on the rushing masses -of foam as they swept by the side of the vessel. -Our whereabouts by this time had become -wholly a matter of conjecture with the amateurs, -for the night was quite black; however, Rona -light still did us good service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Angus Sutherland came on deck -again, she was on the port tack, and the wind -had moderated somewhat. But this proved -to be a lull of evil omen. There was a low -roar heard in the distance, and almost directly -a violent squall from the east struck the yacht, -sending the boom flying over before the -skipper could get hold of the mainsheet. Away -flew the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> like an arrow, with the -unseen masses of water smashing over her bows!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In with the mizen, boys!" called out John -of Skye, and there was a hurried clatter and -stamping, and flapping of canvas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But that was not enough, for this unexpected -squall from the east showed permanence, and -as we were making in for the Sound of Scalpa -we were now running free before the wind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll tek the foresail off her, boys!" shouted -John of Skye again, and presently there was -another rattle down on the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Onwards and onwards we flew, in absolute -darkness but for that red light that made the -sea shine like a foaming sea of blood. And -the pressure of the wind behind increased until -it seemed likely to tear the canvas off her -spars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Down with the jib, then!" called out John -of Skye; and we heard, but could not see, the -men at work forward. And still the </span><em class="italics">White -Dove</em><span> flew onwards through the night, and the -wind howled and whistled through the rigging, -and the boiling surges of foam swept away from -her side. There was no more of Rona light to -guide us now; we were tearing through the -Sound of Scalpa; and still this hurricane -seemed to increase in fury. As a last resource, -John of Skye had the peak lowered. We had -now nothing left but a mainsail about the size -of a pocket-handkerchief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the night wore on, we got into more -sheltered waters, being under the lee of Scalpa; -and we crept away down between that island -and Skye, seeking for a safe anchorage. It -was a business that needed a sharp look-out, -for the waters are shallow here, and we -discovered one or two smacks at anchor, with -no lights up. They did not expect any vessel -to run in from the open on a night like this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And at last we chose our place for the night, -letting go both anchors. Then we went below, -into the saloon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And how do you like sailing in the equinoctials, -Mary?" said our hostess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad we are all round this table again, -and alive," said the girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought you said the other day you did -not care whether the yacht went down or not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of the two," remarked Miss Avon shyly, -"it is perhaps better that she should be -afloat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Angus was passing at the moment. He put -his hand lightly on her shoulder, and said, in a -kind way—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is better not to tempt the unknown, -Mary. Remember what the French proverb -says, 'quand on est mort, c'est pour longtemps.' And -you know you have not nearly completed -that great series of </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> sketches for the -smoking-room at Denny-mains."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The smoking-room!" exclaimed the Laird, -indignantly. "There is not one of her sketches -that will not have a place—an honoured -place—in my dining-room: depend on that. Ye -will see—both of ye—what I will do with -them; and the sooner ye come to see the better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We this evening resolved that if, by favour -of the winds and the valour of John of Skye, -we got up to Portree next day, we should at -once telegraph to the island of Lewis (where -we proposed to cease these summer wanderings) -to inquire about the safety of certain friends of -ours whom we meant to visit there, and who -are much given to yachting; for the -equinoctials must have blown heavily into Loch -Roag, and the little harbour at Borva is -somewhat exposed. However, it was not -likely that they would allow themselves to be -caught. They know something about the sea, -and about boats, at Borva.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="after-the-gale"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">AFTER THE GALE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Well, indeed!" exclaimed the Laird, on -putting his head out next morning. "This -is wonderful—wonderful!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was it the long imprisonment in the darkness -of the equinoctials that made him welcome -with so much delight this spectacle of fair skies -and sapphire seas, with the waves breaking -white in Scalpa Sound, and the sunlight shining -along the Coolins? Or was it not rather our -long isolation from the ordinary affairs of the -world that made him greet with acclamation -this picture of brisk and busy human life, now -visible from the deck of the yacht? We were -no longer alone in the world. Over there, -around the big black smacks—that looked like -so many hens with broods of chickens—swarmed -a fleet of fishing-boats; and as -rapidly as hands could manage it, both men -and women were shaking out the brown nets -and securing the glittering silver treasure of the -sea. It was a picturesque sight—the stalwart -brown-bearded men in their yellow oilskins -and huge boots; the bare-armed women in -their scarlet short-gowns; the masses of ruddy -brown nets; the lowered sails. And then the -Laird perceived that he was not alone in -regarding this busy and cheerful scene.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Along there by the bulwarks, with one -hand on the shrouds and the other on the -gig, stood Mary Avon, apparently watching -the boats passing to and fro between the -smacks and the shore. The Laird went -gently up to her, and put his hand on her -shoulder. She started, turned round suddenly, -and then he saw, to his dismay, that her eyes -were full of tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, what?" said he, with a quick -doubt and fear coming over him. Had all -his plans failed, then? Was the girl still -unhappy?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, lass? What is the matter?" -said he, gripping her hand so as to get the -truth from her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time she had dried her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing—nothing," said she, rather -shame-facedly. "I was only thinking about the song -of 'Caller Herring;' and how glad those -women must be to find their husbands come -back this morning. Fancy their being out -on such a night as last night. What it must -be to be a fisherman's wife—and alone on -shore——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Toots, toots, lass!" cried the Laird, with -a splendid cheerfulness; for he was greatly -relieved that this was all the cause of the wet -eyes. "Ye are jist giving way to a sentiment. -I have observed that people are apt to be -sentimental in the morning, before they get -their breakfast. What! are ye peetying these -folk? I can tell ye this is a proud day for -them, to judge by they heaps o' fish. They -are jist as happy as kings; and as for the risk -o' their trade, they have to do what is appointed -to them. Why, does not that Doctor friend -o' yours say that the happiest people are they -who are hardest worked?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This reference to the Doctor silenced the -young lady at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not that I have much right to talk about -work," said the Laird, penitently. "I believe -I am becoming the idlest crayture on the face -of this world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this point a very pretty little incident -occurred. A boat was passing to the shore; -and in the stern of her was a young fisherman—a -handsome young fellow, with a sun-tanned -face and yellow beard. As they were going -by the yacht, he caught a glimpse of Miss -Avon; then when they had passed, he said -something in Gaelic to his two companions, -who immediately rested on their oars. Then -he was seen rapidly to fill a tin can with two -or three dozen herrings; and his companions -backed their boat to the side of the yacht. -The young fellow stood up in the stern, and -with a shy laugh—but with no speech, for he -was doubtless nervous about his English—offered -this present to the young lady. She -was very much pleased; but she blushed quite -as much as he did. And she was confused, -for she could not summon Master Fred to -take charge of the herrings, seeing this -compliment was so directly paid to herself. -However, she boldly gripped the tin can, and said, -"Oh, thank you very much;" and by this -time the Laird had fetched a bucket, into -which the glittering beauties were slipped. -Then the can was handed back, with further -and profuse thanks, and the boat pushed off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly, and with great alarm, Miss Avon -remembered that Angus had taught her what -Highland manners were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I beg your pardon!" she called out to -the bearded young fisherman, who instantly -turned round, and the oars were stopped. "I -beg your pardon," said she, with an extreme and -anxious politeness, "but would you take a glass -of whisky?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, thank ye, mem," said the fisherman, -with another laugh of friendliness on the frank -face; and then away they went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl was in despair. She was about to -marry a Highlander, and already she had -forgotten the first of Highland customs. But -unexpected relief was at hand. Hearing -something going on, John of Skye had tumbled up -from the forecastle, and instantly saw that the -young lady was sorely grieved that those friendly -fishermen had not accepted this return -compliment. He called aloud, in Gaelic, and in a -severe tone. The three men came back, looking -rather like schoolboys who would fain escape -from an embarrassing interview. And then at -the same moment Captain John, who had asked -Fred to bring up the whisky-bottle, said in a low -voice to the young lady—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They would think it ferry kind, mem, if you -would pour out the whisky with your own hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And this was done, Miss Mary going through -the ceremony without flinching; and as each of -the men was handed his glass, he rose up in the -boat, and took off his cap, and drank the health -of the young lady, in the Gaelic. And Angus -Sutherland, when he came on deck, was greatly -pleased to hear of what she had done; though -the Laird took occasion to remark at breakfast -that he hoped it was not a common custom -among the young ladies of England to get up -early in the morning to have clandestine -flirtations with handsome young fishermen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then all hands on deck: for now there are -two anchors to be got in, and we must not lose -any of this pleasant sailing breeze. In these -sheltered and shining waters there are scarcely -any traces of the recent rough weather, except -that the wind still comes in variable puffs, and -from all sorts of unexpected directions. In the -main, however, it is N. by E., and so we have -to set to work to leisurely beat up the Sound -of Raasay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, this is indeed like old times, Mary!" -Queen Titania cries, as she comfortably -ensconces herself in a camp-chair: for Miss Avon -is at the helm, and the young Doctor, lying at -full length on the sunlit deck, is watching the -sails and criticising her steering; and the Laird -is demonstrating to a humble listener the -immeasurable advantages enjoyed by the Scotch -landscape-painters, in that they have within so -small a compass every variety of mountain, lake, -woodland, and ocean scenery. He becomes -facetious, too, about Miss Mary's sketches. -What if he were to have a room set apart for -them at Denny-mains, to be called the </span><em class="italics">White -Dove</em><span> Gallery? He might have a skilled -decorator out from Glasgow to devise the -furniture and ornamentation, so that both should -suggest the sea, and ships, and sailors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here John of Skye comes aft.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," says he to Miss Avon, with a -modest smile, "we might put the gaff topsail -on her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, certainly," says this experienced -mariner; and the Doctor, seeing an opportunity -for bestirring himself, jumps to his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so, with the topsail shining white in the -sun—a thing we have not seen for some time—we -leave behind us the gloomy opening into -Loch Sligachan, and beat up through the Raasay -narrows, and steal by the pleasant woods of -Raasay House. The Laird has returned to that -project of the Marine Gallery, and he has -secured an attentive listener in the person of -his hostess, who prides herself that she has a -sure instinct as to what is "right" in mural -decoration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This is indeed like old times come back -again. The light, cool breeze, the warm decks, -the pleasant lapping of the water, and our -steerswoman partly whistling and partly -humming—</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"They'll put a napkin round my e'en,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>They'll no let me see to dee;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>And they'll never let on to my faither and mither,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>But I am awa' o'er the sea."</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And this she is abstractedly and contentedly -doing, without any notice of the fact that the -song is supposed to be a pathetic one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then our young Doctor: of what does he -discourse to us during this delightful -daydreaming and idleness? Well, it has been -remarked by more than one of us that -Dr. Angus has become tremendously practical of -late. You would scarcely have believed that -this was the young F.R.S. who used to startle -the good Laird out of his wits by his wild -speculations about the origin of the world and -similar trifles. Now his whole interest seemed -to be centred on the commonest things: all the -Commissioners of the Burgh of Strathgovan -put together could not have been more fierce -than he was about the necessity of supplying -houses with pure water, for example. And the -abuse that he heaped on the Water Companies -of London, more especially, and on the Government -which did not interfere, was so distinctly -libellous that we are glad no alien overheard it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then as to arsenic in wall-papers: he was -equally dogmatic and indignant about that; and -here it was his hostess, rather than the Laird, -who was interested. She eagerly committed -to her note-book a recipe for testing the -presence of that vile metal in wall-papers or -anything else; and some of us had mentally -to thank Heaven that she was not likely to get -test-tubes, and zinc filings, and hydrochloric -acid in Portree. The woman would have blown -up the ship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this and much more was very different -from the kind of conversation that used so -seriously to trouble the Laird. When he -heard Angus talk with great common sense -and abundant information about the various -climates that suited particular constitutions, -and about the best soils for building houses -on, and about the necessity for strict municipal -supervision of drainage, he was ready to believe -that our young Doctor had not only for his -own part never handled that dangerous book -the </span><em class="italics">Vestiges of Creation</em><span>, but that he had never -even known any one who had glanced at its -sophistical pages except with a smile of pity. -Why, all the time that we were shut up -by the equinoctials, the only profound and -mysterious thing that Angus had said was -this: "There is surely something wrong when -the man who takes on himself all the trouble -of drawing a bottle of ale is bound to give his -friend the first tumbler, which is clear, and -keep the second tumbler, which is muddy, for -himself." But if you narrowly look into it, you -will find that there is really nothing dangerous -or unsettling in this saying—no grumbling -against the ways of Providence whatsoever. -It is mysterious, perhaps; but then so would -many of the nice points about the Semple case -have been, had we not had with us an able -expositor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And on this occasion, as we were running -along for Portree, our F.R.S. was chiefly -engaged in warning us against paying too -serious heed to certain extreme theories about -food and drink which were then being put -put forward by a number of distinguished -physicians.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For people in good health, the very worst -adviser is the doctor," he was saying; when -he was gently reminded by his hostess that -he must not malign his own calling, or destroy -a superstition that might in itself have -curative effects.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I scarcely call myself a doctor," he -said, "for I have no practice as yet. And -I am not denying the power of a physician -to help nature in certain cases—of course -not; but what I say is that for healthy people -the doctor is the worst adviser possible. Why, -where does he get his experience?—from the -study of people who are ill. He lives in an -atmosphere of sickness; his conclusions about -the human body are drawn from bad specimens; -the effects that he sees produced are -produced on too sensitive subjects. Very -likely, too, if he is himself a distinguished -physician, he has gone through an immense -amount of training and subsequent hard work; -his own system is not of the strongest; and -he considers that what he feels to be injurious -to him must be injurious to other people. -Probably so it might be—to people similarly -sensitive; but not necessarily to people in sound -health. Fancy a man trying to terrify people -by describing the awful appearance produced -on one's internal economy when one drinks -half a glass of sherry! And that," he added, -"is a piece of pure scientific sensationalism; -for precisely the same appearance is produced -if you drink half a glass of milk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am of opinion," said the Laird, with the -gravity befitting such a topic, "that of all -steemulants nothing is better or wholesomer -than a drop of sound, sterling whisky."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And where are you likely to get it?——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can assure ye, at Denny-mains——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean where are the masses of the people -to get it? What they get is a cheap white -spirit, reeking with fusel-oil, with just enough -whisky blended to hide the imposture. The -decoction is a certain poison. If the Government -would stop tinkering at Irish franchises, -and Irish tenures, and Irish Universities, and -would pass a law making it penal for any -distiller to sell spirits that he has not had in -bond for at least two years, they would do -a good deal more service to Ireland, and to -this country too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still, these measures of amelioration must -have their effect," observed the Liard, -sententiously. "I would not discourage wise -legislation. We will reconcile Ireland sooner or -later, if we are prudent and conseederate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may as well give them Home Rule -at once," said Dr. Angus, bluntly. "The -Irish have no regard for the historical grandeur -of England; how could they?—they have lost -their organ of veneration. The coronal region -of the skull has in time become depressed, -through frequent shillelagh practice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a second the Laird glanced at him: -there was a savour of George Combe about -this speech. Could it be that he believed in -that monstrous and atheistical theory?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But no. The Laird only laughed; and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would not like to have an Irishman hear -ye say so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now abundantly clear to us that -Denny-mains could no longer suspect of -anything heterodox and destructive this young -man who was sound on drainage, pure air, -and a constant supply of water to the tanks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course, we could not get into Portree -without Ben Inivaig having a tussle with us. -This mountain is the most inveterate brewer -of squalls in the whole of the West Highlands, -and it is his especial delight to catch -the unwary, when all their eyes are bent on -the safe harbour within. But we were equal -with him. Although he tried to tear our -masts out and frighten us out of our senses, -all that he really succeeded in doing was to -put us to a good deal of trouble and break -a tumbler or two below. We pointed the -finger of scorn at Ben Inivaig. We sailed -past him, and took no more notice of him. -With a favouring breeze, and with our -topsail still set, we glided into the open and -spacious harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But that first look round was a strange one. -Was this really Portree Harbour, or were we -so many Rip Van Winkles? There were -the shining white houses, and the circular -bay, and the wooded cliffs; but where were -the yachts that used to keep the place so -bright and busy? There was not an inch -of white canvas visible. We got to anchor -near a couple of heavy smacks; the men -looked at us as if we had dropped from the skies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We went ashore and walked up to the telegraph -office to see whether the adjacent islands -of great Britain and Ireland—as the Cumbrae -minister called them—had survived the -equinoctials; and learned only too accurately what -serious mischief had been done all along these -coasts by the gale. From various points, -moreover, we subsequently received congratulations -on our escape, until we almost began to -believe that we had really been in serious peril. -For the rest, our friends at Borva were safe -enough; they had not been on board their -yacht at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening, in the silent and deserted bay, -a council of war was held on deck. We were -not, as it turned out, quite alone; there had -also come in a steam yacht, the master of which -informed our John of Skye that such a gale he -had not seen for three-and-twenty years. He -also told us that there was a heavy sea running -in the Minch; and that no vessel would try to -cross. Stornoway Harbour, we already knew, -was filled with storm-stayed craft. So we had -to decide.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Like the very small and white-faced boy who -stood forth to declaim before a school-full of -examiners and friends, and who raised his -hand, and announced in a trembling falsetto -that his voice was still for war, it was the -women who spoke first, and they were for -going right on the next morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mind," said Angus Sutherland, looking -anxiously at certain dark eyes; "there is -generally a good sea in the Minch in the best -of weathers; but after a three or four -days'—well——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I, for one, don't care," said Miss Avon, -frankly regarding him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I should like it," said the other -woman, "so long as there is plenty of wind. -But if Captain John takes me out into the -middle of the Minch and keeps me rolling -about on the Atlantic in a dead calm, then -something will befall him that his mother -knew nothing about."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here Captain John was emboldened to -step forward, and to say, with an embarrassed -politeness—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I not afraid of anything for the leddies; -for two better sailors I never sah ahl my life -lang."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, the final result of our confabulation -that night was the resolve to get under -way next morning, and proceed a certain -distance until we should discover what the -weather was like outside. With a fair wind, -we might run the sixty miles to Stornoway -before night; without a fair wind, there was -little use in our adventuring out to be knocked -about in the North Minch, where the Atlantic -finds itself jammed into the neck of a bottle, -and rebels in a somewhat frantic fashion. We -must do our good friends in Portree the justice -to say that they endeavoured to dissuade us; -but then we had sailed in the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -before, and had no great fear of her leading -us into any trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so, good-night!—good-night! We can -scarcely believe that this is Portree Harbour, -so still and quiet it is. All the summer fleet -of vessels have fled; the year has gone with -them; soon we, too, must betake ourselves to -the south. Good-night!—good-night! The -peace of the darkness falls over us; if there -is any sound, it is the sound of singing in -our dreams.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 60%" id="figure-10"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Music fragment" src="images/img-272.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Music fragment</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-good-one-for-the-last"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"A GOOD ONE FOR THE LAST."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Ah, well, well," said the Laird, somewhat -sadly, to his hostess, "I suppose we may now -conseeder that we have started on our last -day's sailing in the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so," said she; and this was -before breakfast, so she may have been -inclined to be a bit sentimental too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm thinking," said he, "that some of us -may hereafter look back on this sailing as -the longest and grandest holiday of their life, -and will recall the name of the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -with a certain amount of affection. I, for one, -feel that I can scarcely justify myself for -withdrawing so long from the duties that -society demands from every man; and no -doubt there will be much to set right when -one goes back to Strathgovan. But perhaps -one has been able to do something even in -one's idleness——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused here, and remained silent for a -moment or two.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a fine thing," he continued, "it must -be for a doctor to watch the return of health -to a patient's face—to watch the colour coming -back, and the eyes looking happy again, and -the spirits rising; and to think that maybe he -has helped. And if he happens to know the -patient, and to be as anxious about her as if -she were his own child, do not ye think he -must be a proud man when he sees the results -of what he has done for her, and when he -hears her begin to laugh again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Despite the Laird's profound ingenuity, we -knew very well who that doctor was. And -we had learned something about the affection -which this mythical physician had acquired -for this imaginary patient.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a sensitive bit crayture she is!" -said he, suddenly, as if he were now talking -of some quite different person. "Have ye -seen the difference the last few days have -made on her face—have ye not observed it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, indeed I have."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye would imagine that her face was just -singing a song from the morning till the -night—I have never seen any one with such -expressive eyes as that bit lass has—and—and—it -is fairly a pleasure to any one to look at -the happiness of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which she owes to you, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To me?" said the Laird. "Dear me!—not -to me. It was a fortunate circumstance -that I was with ye on board the yacht, that -is all. What I did no man who had the -chance could have refused to do. No, no; -if the lass owes any gratitude to anybody or -anything it is to the Semple case."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just so, ma'am," said the Laird composedly. -"I will confess to ye that a long -holiday spent in sailing had not that attraction -for me it might have had for others—though I -think I have come to enjoy it now with the -best of ye; but I thought, when ye pressed -me to come, that it would be a grand -opportunity to get your husband to take up the -Semple case, and master it thoroughly, and -put its merits in a just manner before the -public. That he does not appear to be as -much interested in it as I had reason to expect -is a misfortune—perhaps he will grow to see -the importance of the principles involved in -it in time; but I have ceased to force it on -his attention. In the meanwhile we have had -a fine, long holiday, which has at least given -me leisure to consider many schemes for the -advantage of my brother pareeshioners. Ay; -and where is Miss Mary though?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She and Angus have been up for hours, -I believe," said his hostess. "I heard them -on deck before we started anyway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would not disturb them," said the Laird, -with much consideration. "They have plenty -to talk about—all their life opening up before -them—like a road through a garden, as one -might say. And whatever befalls them -hereafter I suppose they will always remember the -present time as the most beautiful of their -existence—the wonder of it, the newness, the -hope. It is a strange thing that. Ye know, -ma'am, that our garden at Denny-mains, if I -may say so, is far from insigneeficant. It has -been greatly commended by experienced -landscape gardeners. Well, now, that garden, -when it is just at its fullest of summer -colour—with all its dahlias and hollyhocks and what -not—I say ye cannot get half as much -delight from the whole show as ye get from -the first glint o' a primrose, as ye are walking -through a wood, on a bleak March day, and -not expecting to see anything of the kind. -Does not that make your heart jump?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here the Laird had to make way for Master -Fred and the breakfast tray.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is not a bairn about Strathgovan," -he continued, with a laugh, "knows better -than myself where to find the first primroses -and bluebells and the red deadnettle, ye -know, and so on. Would ye believe it, that -poor crayture, Johnny Guthrie was for cutting -down the hedge in the Coulterburn Road, and -putting up a stone dyke!" Here the Laird's -face grew more and more stern, and he spoke -with unnecessary vehemence. "I make bold -to say that the man who would cut down a -hawthorn hedge where the children go to gather -their bits o' flowers, and would put in its -place a stone wall for no reason on the face of -the earth, I say that man is an ass—an -intolerable and perneecious ass!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this fierceness instantly vanished, for -here was Mary Avon come in to bid him good -morning. And he rose and took both her -hands in his and regarded the upturned -smiling face and the speaking eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay, lass," said he, with great satisfaction -and approval, "ye have got the roses into -your cheeks at last. That is the morning air—the -'roses weet wi' dew'—it is a fine habit -that of early rising. Dear me, what a shilpit -bit thing ye were when I first saw ye about -three months ago. And now I daresay ye are -just as hungry as a hawk with walking up and -down the deck in the sea-air—we will not keep -ye waiting a moment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird got her a chair, next his own of -course; and then rang Master Fred's bell -violently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How's her head, skipper?" said Queen T., -when the young Doctor made his appearance—he -had roses, too, in his cheeks, freshened by -the morning air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said he frankly, as he sate down, -"I think it would be judicious to have -breakfast over as soon as possible; and get the -things stowed away. We are flying up the -Sound of Raasay like a witch on a broom; -and there will be a roaring sea when we get -beyond the shelter of Skye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have been in roaring seas before," said -she, confidently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We met a schooner coming into Portree -Harbour this morning," said he, with a dry -smile. "She left yesterday afternoon just -before we got in. They were at it all night, -but had to run back at last. They said they -had got quite enough of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was a little more serious, but the -women were not to be daunted. They had -come to believe in the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> being -capable of anything, especially when a certain -aid to John of Skye was on board. For the -rest, the news was that the day was lovely, -the wind fair for Stornoway, and the yacht -flying northward like an arrow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a certain solemnity, nevertheless, -or perhaps only an unusual elaborateness, about -our preparations before going on deck. -Gun-cases were wedged in in front of canvases, so -that Miss Avon's sketches should not go -rolling on to the floor; all such outlying -skirmishers as candlesticks, aneroids, -draught-boards, and the like, were moved to the rear -of compact masses of rugs; and then the -women were ordered to array themselves in -their waterproofs. Waterproofs?—and the sun -flooding through the skylight! But they -obeyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Certainly there did not seem to be any great -need for waterproofs when we got above and -had the women placed in a secure corner of -the companion-way. It was a brilliant, breezy, -blue-skied morning, with the decks as yet -quite white and dry, and with the long -mountainous line of Skye shining in the sun. The -yacht was flying along at a famous pace before -a fresh and steady breeze; already we could -make out, far away on the northern horizon, -a pale, low, faint-blue line, which we knew -to be the hills of southern Lewis. Of course, -one had to observe that the vast expanse of -sea lying between us and that far line was -of a stormy black; moreover, the men had -got on their oilskins, though not a drop of -spray was coming on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we spun along, however, before the -freshening wind, the crashes of the waves at the -bows became somewhat more heavy, and -occasionally some jets of white foam would spring -up into the sunlight. When it was suggested -to Captain John that he might set the gaff -topsail, he very respectfully and shyly shook -his head. For one thing, it was rather strange -that on this wide expanse of sea not a solitary -vessel was visible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Farther and farther northward. And now -one has to look out for the white water -springing over the bows, and there is a -general ducking of heads when the crash -forward gives warning. The decks are -beginning to glisten now; and Miss Avon has -received one sharp admonition to be more -careful, which has somewhat damped and -disarranged her hair. And so the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -still flies to the north—like an arrow—like a -witch on a broom—like a hare, only that none -of these things would groan so much in getting -into the deep troughs of the sea; and not -even a witch on a broom could perform such -capers in the way of tumbling and tossing, -and pitching and rolling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However all this was mere child's play. We -knew very well when and where we should -really "get it": and we got it. Once out of -the shelter of the Skye coast, we found a -considerably heavy sea swinging along the Minch, -and the wind was still freshening up, insomuch -that Captain John had to take the mizen and -foresail off her. How splendidly those -mountain masses of waves came heaving -along—apparently quite black until they came near, -and then we could see the sunlight shining -green through the breaking crest; then there -was a shock at the bows that caused the -yacht to shiver from stem to stern; then a -high springing into the air, followed by a -heavy rattle and rush on the decks. The -scuppers were of no use at all; there was a -foot and a half of hissing and seething salt -water all along the lee bulwarks, and when -the gangway was lifted to let it out the next -rolling wave only spouted an equal quantity -up on deck, soaking Dr. Angus Sutherland to -the shoulder. Then a heavier sea than usual -struck her, carrying off the cover of the fore -hatch and sending it spinning aft; while, at -the same moment, a voice from the forecastle -informed Captain John in an injured tone that -this last invader had swamped the men's -berths. What could he do but have the main -tack hauled up to lighten the pressure of the -wind? The waters of the Minch, when once -they rise, are not to be stilled by a bottle of -salad oil.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We had never before seen the ordinarily -buoyant </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> take in such masses of -water over her bows; but we soon got -accustomed to the seething lake of water along the -lee scuppers, and allowed it to subside or -increase as it liked. And the women were now -seated a step lower on the companion-way, so -that the rags of the waves flew by them -without touching them; and there was a good deal -of laughing and jesting going on at the -clinging and stumbling of any unfortunate person -who had to make his way along the deck. As -for our indefatigable Doctor, his face had been -running wet with salt water for hours; twice -he had slipped and gone headlong to leeward; -and now, with a rope double twisted round the -tiller, he was steering, his teeth set hard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Mary," shrieked Queen Titania into -her companion's ear. "We are having a good -one for the last!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is he going up the mast?" cried the girl -in great alarm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say we are having a good one for the last!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes!" was the shout in reply. "She -is indeed going fast!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But about mid-day we passed within a few -miles to the east of the Shiant Islands, and -here the sea was somewhat moderated, so -we tumbled below for a snack of lunch. The -women wanted to devote the time to dressing -their hair and adorning themselves anew; but -purser Sutherland objected to this altogether. -He compelled them to eat and drink while -that was possible; and several toasts were -proposed—briefly, but with much enthusiasm. -Then we scrambled on deck again. We found -that John had hoisted his foresail again, but -he had let the mizen alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Northward and ever northward—and we -are all alone on this wide, wide sea. But -that pale line of coast at the horizon is -beginning to resolve itself into definite -form—into long, low headlands, some of which are -dark in shadow, others shining in the sun. -And then the cloudlike mountains beyond; -can these be the far Suainabhal and Mealasabhal, -and the other giants that look down -on Loch Roag and the western shores? They -seem to belong to a world beyond the sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Northward and ever northward; and there -is less water coming over now, and less -groaning and plunging, so that one can hear -oneself speak. And what is this wagering -on the part of the Doctor that we shall do -the sixty miles between Portree and Stornoway -within the six hours? John of Skye shakes -his head; but he has the main tack hauled down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, as the day wears on, behold! a small -white object in that line of blue. The cry -goes abroad: it is Stornoway Light!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, now, John!" the Doctor calls aloud. -"Within the six hours—for a glass of whisky -and a lucky sixpence!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We not at Styornaway Light yet," answered -the prudent John of Skye, who is no gambler. -But all the same, he called two of the men -aft to set the mizen again; and as for himself, -he threw off his oilskins and appeared in his -proud uniform once more. This looked like -business.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, it was not within the six hours, but -it was within the six hours and a half, that we -sailed past Stornoway lighthouse and its -outstanding perch; and past a floating target -with a red flag, for artillery practice; and past -a barque which had been driven ashore two -days before, and now stuck there, with her -back broken. And this was a wonderful -sight—after the lone, wide seas—to see such a -mass of ships of all sorts and sizes crowded -in here for fear of the weather. We read -their names in the strange foreign type as -we passed—</span><em class="italics">Die Heimath</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">Georg Washington</em><span>, -</span><em class="italics">Friedrich der Grosse</em><span>, and the like—and we -saw the yellow-haired Norsemen pulling -between the vessels in their odd-looking -double-bowed boats. And was not John of Skye a -proud man that day, as he stood by the tiller -in his splendour of blue and brass buttons, -knowing that he had brought the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -across the wild waters of the Minch, when not -one of these foreigners would put his nose -outside the harbour?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The evening light was shining over the quiet -town, and the shadowed castle, and the -fir-tipped circle of hills, when the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span> -rattled out her anchor chain and came to rest. -And as this was our last night on board, there -was a good deal of packing and other trouble. -It was nearly ten o'clock when we came together -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Laird was in excellent spirits that night, -and was more than ordinarily facetious; but -his hostess refused to be comforted. A -thousand Homeshes could not have called -up a smile. For she had grown to love this -scrambling life on board; and she had -acquired a great affection for the yacht itself; -and now she looked round this old and familiar -saloon, in which we had spent so many snug -and merry evenings together; and she knew -she was looking at it for the last time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length, however, the Laird bethought -himself of arousing her from her sentimental -sadness, and set to work to joke her out of it. -He told her she was behaving like a school-girl -come to the end of her holiday. Well, -she only further behaved like a schoolgirl by -letting her lips begin to tremble; and then she -stealthily withdrew to her own cabin; and -doubtless had a good cry there. There was -no help for it, however: the child had to give -up its plaything at last.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="adieu"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ADIEU.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning, also: why should this tender -melancholy still dwell in the soft and mournful -eyes? The sunlight was shining cheerfully on -the sweep of wooded hill, on the grey castle, -on the scattered town, and on the busy quays. -Busy was scarcely the word: there was a wild -excitement abroad, for a vast take of herring -had just been brought in. There, close in by -the quays, were the splendidly-built luggers, -with their masts right at their bows; and -standing up in them their stalwart crews, -bronze-faced, heavy-bearded, with oilskin caps, -and boots up to their thighs. Then on the -quays above the picturesquely-costumed women -busy at the salting; and agents eagerly chaffering -with the men; and empty barrels coming -down in unknown quantities. Bustle, life, -excitement pervaded the whole town; but our -tender-hearted hostess, as we got ashore, -seemed to pay no heed to it. As she bade -good-bye to the men, shaking hands with each -there were tears in her eyes; if she had -wished to cast a last glance in the direction of -the </span><em class="italics">White Dove</em><span>, she could scarcely have seen -the now still and motionless craft.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But by and by, when we had left our heavier -luggage at the inn, and when we set out to -drive across the island to visit some friends of -ours who live on the western side, she grew -somewhat more cheerful. Here and there a -whiff of the fragrant peat-smoke caught us as -we passed, bringing back recollections of other -days. Then she had one or two strangers to -inform and instruct; and she was glad thai -Mary Avon had a bright day for her drive -across the Lewis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what a desolate place it must be on a -wet day," that young person remarked, as she -looked away across the undulating moors, vast, -and lonely, and silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, at all events, the drive was pleasant -enough: for the sunlight brought out the soft -ruddy browns of the bog-land, and ever and -again the blue and white surface of a small -loch flashed back the daylight from amid that -desolation. Then occasionally the road crossed -a brawling stream, and the sound of it was -grateful enough in the oppressive silence. In -due course of time we reached Garra na-hina.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our stay at the comfortable little hostelry -was but brief, for the boat to be sent by our -friends had not arrived, and it was proposed -that in the meantime we should walk along -the coast to show our companions the famous -stones of Callernish. By this time Queen -Titania had quite recovered her spirits, and -eagerly assented, saying how pleasant a walk -would be after our long confinement on shipboard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was indeed a pleasant walk, through a -bright and cheerful piece of country. And as -we went along we sometimes turned to look -around us—at the waters of the Black River, -a winding line of silver through the yellow and -brown of the morass; and at the placid blue -waters of Loch Roag, with the orange line of -seaweed round the rocks; and at the far blue -bulk of Suainabhal. We did not walk very -fast; and indeed we had not got anywhere -near the Callernish stones, when the sharp eye -of our young Doctor caught sight of two new -objects that had come into this shining picture. -The first was a large brown boat, rowed by -four fishermen; the second was a long and -shapely boat—like the pinnace of a yacht—also -pulled by four men, in blue jerseys and -scarlet caps. There was no one in the stern -of the big boat; but in the stern of the gig -were three figures, as far as we could make out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now no sooner had our attention been called -to the two boats which had just come round the -point of an island out there, than our good -Queen Titania became greatly excited, and -would have us all go out to the top of a small -headland and frantically wave our handkerchiefs -there. Then we perceived that the second boat -instantly changed its course, and was being -steered for the point on which we stood. We -descended to the shore and went out on to -some rocks, Queen Titania becoming quite -hysterical.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how kind of her! how kind of her!" -she cried, "to come so far to meet us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For it now appeared that these three figures -in the stern of the white pinnace, were the -figures of a young lady, who was obviously -steering, and of two small boys, one on each -side of her, and both dressed as young sailors. -And the steerswoman—she had something of -a sailor-look about her too; for she was dressed -in navy blue; and she wore a straw hat with a -blue ribbon and letters of gold. But you would -scarcely have looked at the smart straw hat -when you saw the bright and laughing face, -and the beautiful eyes that seemed to speak -to you long before she could get to shore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the boat was run into a small creak; -and the young lady stepped lightly out—she -certainly was young-looking, by the way, to be -the mother of those two small sailors—and -she quickly and eagerly and gladly caught -Queen Titania with both her hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, indeed I beg your pardon," said she—and -her speech was exceedingly pleasant to -hear—"but I did not think you could be so -soon over from Styornaway."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="small">[</span><em class="italics small">Note by Queen Titania</em><span class="small">.—It appears that now all our voyaging -is over, and we are about to retire into privacy again, I am -expected, as on a previous occasion, to come forward and address -to you a kind of epilogue, just as they do on the stage. This -seems to me a sort of strange performance at the end of a -yachting cruise, for what if a handful of salt water were to come -over the bows and put out my trumpery footlights? However, -what must be must, as married women know: and so I would -first of all say a word to the many kind people who were so -</span><em class="italics small">very</em><span class="small"> good to us in these distant places in the north. You may -think it strange to associate such things as fresh vegetables, or -a basket of flowers, or a chicken, or a bottle of milk, or even a -bunch of white heather, with sentiment; but people who have -been sailing in the West Highlands do not think so—indeed, -they know which is the most obliging and friendly and hospitable -place </span><em class="italics small">in the whole world</em><span class="small">. And then a word to the reader. -If I might hope that it is the same reader who has been with -us in other climes in other years—who may have driven with us -along the devious English lanes; and crossed the Atlantic, and -seen the big cañons of the Rocky Mountains; and lived with -us among those dear old people in the Black Forest; and -walked with us on Mickleham Downs in the starlight, why, -then, he may forgive us for taking him on such a tremendous -long holiday in these Scotch lochs. But we hope that if ever -he goes into these wilds for himself, he will get as good a -skipper as John of Skye, and have as pleasant and </span><em class="italics small">true</em><span class="small"> a -friend on board as the Laird of Denny-mains. Perhaps I -may add, just to explain everything, that we are all invited -to Denny-mains to spend Christmas; and something is going -to happen there; and the Laird says that so far from objecting -to a ceremony in the Episcopal Church, he will himself be -present and give away the bride. It is even hinted that Mr. Tom -Galbraith may come from Edinburgh as a great compliment: -and then no doubt we shall all be introduced to him. And -so—Good-bye!—Good-bye!—and another message—</span><em class="italics small">from the -heart</em><span class="small">—to all the kind people who befriended us in those places -far away!——T.]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">LONDON: R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>WHITE WINGS, VOLUME III (OF 3)</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43830"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43830</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set -forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to -protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge -for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not -charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is -very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as -creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. -They may be modified and printed and given away – you may do -practically </span><em class="italics">anything</em><span> with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution.</span></p> -<div class="level-3 section" id="the-full-project-gutenberg-license"> -<span id="project-gutenberg-license"></span><h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title"><span>The Full Project Gutenberg License</span></h3> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Please read this before you distribute or use this work.</em></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-1-general-terms-of-use-redistributing-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.A.</strong><span> By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by -the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.B.</strong><span> “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.C.</strong><span> The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is in the public domain in the United -States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a -right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free -access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works -in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project -Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with -the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format -with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it -without charge with others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.D.</strong><span> The copyright laws of the place where you are located also -govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most -countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the -United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms -of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.</strong><span> Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.1.</strong><span> The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.2.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work -can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without -paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing -access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with -or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements -of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of -the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in -paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.3.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.4.</strong><span> Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg™.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.5.</strong><span> Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute -this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.6.</strong><span> You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other -than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site -(</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a><span>), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.7.</strong><span> Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.8.</strong><span> You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided -that</span></p> -<ul class="open"> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from -the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you -already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to -the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to -donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 -days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally -required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments -should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, -“Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation.”</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies -you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he -does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ -License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all -copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue -all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ -works.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of -any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the -electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of -receipt of the work.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free -distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.</span></p> -</li> -</ul> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.9.</strong><span> If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -Michael Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact -the Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.</strong></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.1.</strong><span> Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend -considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe -and proofread public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg™ -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.2.</strong><span> LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the -“Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the -Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.3.</strong><span> LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.4.</strong><span> Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set -forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH -NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.5.</strong><span> Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.6.</strong><span> INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, -the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause.</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-2-information-about-the-mission-of-project-gutenberg"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a><span> .</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-3-information-about-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf</a><span> . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to -the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. -S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are -scattered throughout numerous locations. Its business office is -located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) -596-1887, email </span><a class="reference external" href="mailto:business@pglaf.org">business@pglaf.org</a><span>. Email contact links and up to date -contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For additional contact information:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Dr. Gregory B. Newby</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Chief Executive and Director</span></div> -<div class="line"><a class="reference external" href="mailto:gbnewby@pglaf.org">gbnewby@pglaf.org</a></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-4-information-about-donations-to-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing -the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely -distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of -equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to -$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status -with the IRS.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-5-general-information-about-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works.</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the -U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's -eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Corrected </span><em class="italics">editions</em><span> of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is -renamed. </span><em class="italics">Versions</em><span> based on separate sources are treated as new -eBooks receiving new filenames and etext numbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including -how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe -to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</body> -</html> |