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diff --git a/4918.txt b/4918.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6536e7c --- /dev/null +++ b/4918.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11408 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lilac Sunbonnet, by S.R. Crockett +(#2 in our series by S.R. Crockett) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Lilac Sunbonnet + +Author: S.R. Crockett + +Release Date: January, 2004 [EBook #4918] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on March 27, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE LILAC SUNBONNET *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + +THE LILAC SUNBONNET + +A LOVE STORY + +BY S. R. CROCKETT + +AUTHOR OF THE STICKIT MINISTER, THE RAIDERS, ETC. + + + + + +CONTENTS. + +PROLOGUE.--BY THE WAYSIDE + I.--THE BLANKET-WASHING + II.--THE MOTHER OF KING LEMUEL + III.--A TREASURE-TROVE + IV.--A CAVALIER PURITAN + V.--A LESSON IN BOTANY + VI.--CURLED EYELASHES + VII.--CONCERNING TAKING EXERCISE + VIII.--THE MINISTER'S MAN ARMS FOR CONQUEST + IX.--THE ADVENT OF THE CUIF + X.--THE LOVE-SONG OF THE MAVIS + XI.--ANDREW KISSOCK GOES TO SCHOOL + XII.--MIDSUMMER DAWN + XIII.--A STRING OF THE LILAC SUNBONNET + XIV.--CAPTAIN AGNEW GREATORIX + XV.--ON THE EDGE OF THE ORCHARD + XVI.--THE CUIF BEFORE THE SESSION + XVII.--WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME + XVIII.--A DAUGHTER OF THE PlCTS + XIX.--AT THE BARN END + XX.-"DARK-BROWED EGYPT" + XXI.--THE RETURN OF EBIE FARRISH + XXII.--A SCARLET POPPY + XXIII.--CONCERNING JOHN BAIRDIESON + XXIV.--LEGITIMATE SPORT + XXV.--BARRIERS BREAKING + XXVI.--SUCH SWEET PERIL + XXVII.--THE OPINIONS OF SAUNDERS MOWDIEWORT UPON BESOM-SHANKS + XXVIII.--THAT GIPSY JESS + XXIX.--THE DARK OF THE MOON AT THE GRANNOCH BRIDGE + XXX.--THE HILL GATE + XXXI.--THE STUDY OF THE MANSE OF DULLARG + XXXII.--OUTCAST AND ALIEN FROM THE COMMONWEALTH + XXXIII.--JOCK GORDON TAKES A HAND + XXXIV.--THE DEW OF THEIR YOUTH + XXXV.--SUCH SWEET SORROW + XXXVI.--OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY + XXXVII.--UNDER THE RED HEATHER + XXXVIII.--BEFORE THE REFORMER'S CHAIR + XXXIX.--JEMIMA, KEZIA, AND LITTLE KEREN-HAPPUCH + XL.--A TRIANGULAR CONVERSATION + XLI.--THE MEETING OF THE SYNOD + XLII.--PURGING AND RESTORATION + XLIII.--THREADS DRAWN TOGETHER + XLIV.--WINSOME'S LAST TRYST + XLV.--THE LAST OF THE LILAC SUNBONNET + + + + + +PROLOGUE. + +BY THE WAYSIDE + + +As Ralph Peden came along the dusty Cairn Edward road from the +coach which had set him down there on its way to the Ferry town, +he paused to rest in the evening light at the head of the Long +Wood of Larbrax. Here, under boughs that arched the way, he took +from his shoulders his knapsack, filled with Hebrew and Greek +books, and rested his head on the larger bag of roughly tanned +Westland leather, in which were all his other belongings. They +were not numerous. He might, indeed, have left both his bags for +the Dullarg carrier on Saturday, but to lack his beloved books for +four days was not to be thought of for a moment by Ralph Peden. He +would rather have carried them up the eight long miles to the +manse of the Dullarg one by one. + +As he sat by the tipsy milestone, which had swayed sidelong and +lay half buried amid the grass and dock leaves, a tall, dark girl +came by--half turning to look at the young man as he rested. It +was Jess Kissock, from the Herd's House at Craig Ronald, on her +way home from buying trimmings for a new hat. This happened just +twice a year, and was a solemn occasion. + +"Is this the way to the manse of Dullarg?" asked the young man, +standing up with his hat in his hand, the brim just beneath his +chin. He was a handsome young man when he stood up straight. + +Jess looked at him attentively. They did not speak in that way in +her country, nor did they take their hats in their hands when they +had occasion to speak to young women. + +"I am myself going past the Dullarg," she said, and paused with a +hiatus like an invitation. + +Ralph Peden was a simple young man, but he rose and shouldered his +knapsack without a word. The slim, dark-haired girl with the +bright, quick eyes like a bird, put out her hand to take a share +of the burden of Ralph's bag. + +"Thank you, but I am quite able to manage it myself," he said, "I +could not think of letting you put your hand to it." + +"I am not a fine lady," said the girl, with a little impatient +movement of her brows, as if she had stamped her foot. "I am +nothing but a cottar's lassie." + +"But then, how comes it that you speak as you do?" asked Ralph. + +"I have been long in England--as a lady's maid," she answered with +a strange, disquieting look at him. She had taken one side of the +bag of books in spite of his protest, and now walked by Ralph's +side through the evening coolness. + +"This is the first time you have been hereaway?" his companion +asked. + +Ralph nodded a quick affirmative and smiled. + +"Then," said Jess Kissock, the rich blood mantling her dark +cheeks, "I am the first from the Dullarg you have spoken to!" + +"The very first!" said Ralph. + +"Then I am glad," said Jess Kissock. But in the young man's heart +there was no answering gladness, though in very sooth she was an +exceeding handsome maid. + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE BLANKET-WASHING. + + +Ralph Peden lay well content under a thorn bush above the Grannoch +water. It was the second day of his sojourning in Galloway--the +first of his breathing the heather scent on which the bees grew +tipsy, and of listening to the grasshoppers CHIRRING in the long +bent by the loch side. Yesterday his father's friend, Allan Welsh, +minister of the Marrow kirk in the parish of Dullarg, had held +high discourse with him as to his soul's health, and made many +inquiries as to how it sped in the great city with the precarious +handful of pious folk, who gathered to listen to the precious and +savoury truths of the pure Marrow teaching. Ralph Peden was +charged with many messages from his father, the metropolitan +Marrow minister, to Allan Welsh--dear to his soul as the only +minister who had upheld the essentials on that great day, when +among the assembled Presbyters so many had gone backward and +walked no more with him. + +"Be faithful with the young man, my son," Allan Welsh read in the +quaintly sealed and delicately written letter which his brother +minister in Edinburgh had sent to him, and which Ralph had duly +delivered in the square, grim manse of Dullarg, with a sedate and +old-fashioned reverence which sat strangely on one of his years. +"Be faithful with the young man," continued the letter; "he is +well grounded on the fundamentals; his head is filled with godly +lear, and he has sound views on the Headship; but he has always +been a little cold and distant even to me, his father according to +the flesh. With his companions he is apt to be distant and +reserved. I am to blame for the solitude of our life here in +James's Court, but to you I do not need to tell the reason of +that. The Lord give you his guidance in leading the young man in +the right way." + +So far Gilbert Peden's letter had run staidly and in character +like the spoken words of the writer. But here it broke off. The +writing, hitherto fine as a hair, thickened; and from this point +became crowded and difficult, as though the floods of feeling had +broken some dam. "O man Allan, for my sake, if at all you have +loved me, or owe me anything, dig deep and see if the lad has a +heart. He shews it not to me." + +So that is why Ralph Peden lies couched in the sparce bells of the +ling, just where the dry, twisted timothy grasses are beginning to +overcrown the purple bells of the heather. Tall and clean-limbed, +with a student's pallor of clear-cut face, a slightly ascetic +stoop, dark brown curls clustering over a white forehead, and eyes +which looked steadfast and true, the young man was sufficient of a +hero. He wore a broad straw hat, which he had a pleasant habit of +pushing back, so that his clustering locks fell over his brow +after a fashion which all women thought becoming. But Ralph Peden +heeded not what women thought, said, or did, for he was trysted to +the kirk of the Marrow, the sole repertory of orthodox truth in +Scotland, which is as good as saying in the wide world--perhaps +even in the universe. + +Ralph Peden had dwelt all his life with his father in an old house +in James's Court, Edinburgh, overlooking the great bounding circle +of the northern horizon and the eastern sea. He had been trained +by his father to think more of a professor's opinion on his Hebrew +exercise than of a woman's opinion on any subject whatever. He had +been told that women were an indispensable part of the economy of +creation; but, though he accepted word by word the Westminster +Confession, and as an inexorable addition the confessions and +protests of the remnant of the true kirk in Scotland (known as the +Marrow kirk), he could not but consider woman a poor makeshift, +even as providing for the continuity of the race. Surely she had +not been created when God looked upon all that he had made and +found it very good. The thought preserved Ralph's orthodoxy. + +Ralph Peden had come out into the morning air, with his note-book +and a volume which he had been studying all the way from +Edinburgh. As he lay at length among the grass he conned it over +and over. He referred to passages here and there. He set out very +calmly with that kind of determination with which a day's work in +the open air with a book is often begun. Not for a moment did he +break the monotony of his study. The marshalled columns of strange +letters were mowed down before him. + +A great humble-bee, barred with tawny orange, worked his way up +from his hole in the bank, buzzing shrilly in an impatient, +stifled manner at finding his dwelling blocked as to its exit by a +mountainous bulk. Ralph Peden rose in a hurry. The beast seemed to +be inside his coat. He had instinctively hated bees and everything +that buzzed ever since as a child he had made experiments with the +paper nest of a tree-building wasp. The humble-bee buzzed a little +more, discontentedly, thought of going back, crept out at last +from beneath the Hebrew Lexicon, and appeared to comb his hair +with his feeler. Then he slowly mounted along the broad blade of a +meadow fox-tail grass, which bent under him as if to afford him an +elastic send-off upon his flight. With a spring he lumbered up, +taking his way over the single field which separated his house +from the edge of the Grannoch water--where on the other side, +above the glistening sickle-sweep of sand which looked so +inviting, yet untouched under the pines by the morning sun, the +hyacinths lay like a blue wreath of peat smoke in the hollows of +the wood. + +But there was a whiff of real peat smoke somewhere in the air, and +Ralph Peden, before he returned to his book, was aware of the +murmur of voices. He moved away from the humble-bee's dwelling and +established himself on a quieter slope under a bush of broom. A +whin-chat said "check, check" above him, and flirted a brilliant +tail; but Ralph Peden was not afraid of whin-chats. Here he +settled himself to study, knitting his brows and drumming on the +ground with the toe of one foot to concentrate his attention. The +whin-chat could hear him murmuring to himself at intervals, +"Surely that is the sense--it must be taken this way." Sometimes, +on the contrary, he shook his head at Luther's Commentary, which +lay on the short, warm turf before him, as if in reproof. Ralph +was of opinion that Luther, but for his great protective +reputation, and the fact that he had been dead some time, might +have been served with a libel for heresy--at least if he had +ministered to the Marrow kirk. + +Then after a little he pulled his hat over his eyes to think, and +lay back till he could just see one little bit of Loch Grannoch +gleaming through the trees, and the farm of Nether Crae set on the +hillside high above it. He counted the sheep on the green field +over the loch, numbering the lambs twice because they frisked +irresponsibly about, being full of frivolity and having no +opinions upon Luther to sober them. + +Gradually a haze spun itself over the landscape, and Ralph Peden's +head slowly fell back till it rested somewhat sharply upon a +spikelet of prickly whin. His whole body sat up instantly, with an +exclamation which was quite in Luther's manner. He had not been +sleeping. He rejected the thought; yet he acknowledged that it was +nevertheless passing strange that, just where the old single- +arched bridge takes a long stride over the Grannoch lane, there +was now a great black pot a-swing above a blinking pale fire of +peats and fir-branches, and a couple of great tubs set close +together on stones which he had not seen before. There was, too, a +ripple of girls' laughter, which sent a strange stirring of +excitement along the nerves of the young man. He gathered his +books to move away; but on second thoughts, looking through the +long, swaying tendrils of the broom under which he sat, he +resolved to remain. After all, the girls might be as harmless as +his helper of yesterday. + +"Yet it is most annoying," he said; "I had been quieter in James's +Court." + +Still he smiled a little to himself, for the broom did not grow in +James's Court, nor the blackbirds flute their mellow whistle +there. + +Loch Grannoch stretched away three miles to the south, basking in +alternate blue and white, as cloud and sky mirrored themselves +upon it. The first broad rush of the ling [Footnote: Common heath +(Erica tetralix).] was climbing the slopes of the Crae Hill above +--a pale lavender near the loch-side, deepening to crimson on the +dryer slopes where the heath-bells grew shorter and thicker +together. The wimpling lane slid as silently away from the +sleeping loch as though it were eloping and feared to awake an +angry parent. The whole range of hill and wood and water was +drenched in sunshine. Silence clothed it like a garment--save only +for the dark of the shadow under the bridge, from whence had come +that ring of girlish laughter which had jarred upon the nerves of +Ralph Peden. + +Suddenly there emerged from the indigo shade where the blue +spruces overarched the bridge a girl carrying two shining pails of +water. Her arms were bare, her sleeves being rolled high above her +elbow; and her figure, tall and shapely, swayed gracefully to the +movement of the pails. Ralph did not know before that there is an +art in carrying water. He was ignorant of many things, but even +with his views on woman's place in the economy of the universe, he +could not but be satisfied with the fitness and the beauty of the +girl who came up the path, swinging her pails with the +compensatory sway of lissom body, and that strong outward flex of +the elbow which kept the brimming cans swinging in safety by her +side. + +Ralph Peden never took his eyes off her as she came, the theories +of James's Court notwithstanding. Nor indeed need we for a little. +For this is Winifred, better known as Winsome Charteris, a very +important young person indeed, to whose beauty and wit the poets +of three parishes did vain reverence; and, what she might well +value more, whose butter was the best (and commanded the highest +price) of any that went into Dumfries market on Wednesdays. + +Fair hair, crisping and tendrilling over her brow, swept back in +loose and flossy circlets till caught close behind her head by a +tiny ribbon of blue--then again escaping it went scattering and +wavering over her shoulders wonderingly, like nothing on earth but +Winsome Charteris's hair. It was small wonder that the local poets +grew grey before their time in trying to find a rhyme for +"sunshine," a substantive which, for the first time, they had +applied to a girl's hair. For the rest, a face rather oval than +long, a nose which the schoolmaster declared was "statuesque" +(used in a good sense, he explained to the village folk, who could +never be brought to see the difference between a statue and an +idol--the second commandment being of literal interpretation along +the Loch Grannoch side), and eyes which, emulating the parish +poet, we can only describe as like two blue waves when they rise +just far enough to catch a sparkle of light on their crests. The +subject of her mouth, though tempting, we refuse to touch. Its +description has already wrecked three promising reputations. + +But withal Winsome Charteris set her pails as frankly and plumply +on the ground, as though she were plain as a pike-staff, and bent +a moment over to look into the gypsy-pot swung on its birchen +triangle. Then she made an impatient movement of her hand, as if +to push the biting fir-wood smoke aside. This angered Ralph, who +considered it ridiculous and ill-ordered that a gesture which +showed only a hasty temper and ill-regulated mind should be +undeniably pretty and pleasant to look upon, just because it was +made by a girl's hand. He was angry with himself, yet he hoped she +would do it again. Instead, she took up one pail of water after +the other, swung them upward with a single dexterous movement, and +poured the water into the pot, from which the steam was rising. +Ralph Peden could see the sunlight sparkle in the water as it +arched itself solidly out of the pails. He was not near enough to +see the lilac sprig on her light summer gown; but the lilac +sunbonnet which she wore, principally it seemed in order that it +might hang by the strings upon her shoulders, was to Ralph a +singularly attractive piece of colour in the landscape. This he +did not resent, because it is always safe to admire colour. + +Ralph would have been glad to have been able to slip off quietly +to the manse. He told himself so over and over again, till he +believed it. This process is easy. But he saw very well that he +could not rise from the lee of the whin bush without being in full +view of this eminently practical and absurdly attractive young +woman. So he turned to his Hebrew Lexicon with a sigh, and a grim +contraction of determined brows which recalled his father. A +country girl was nothing to the hunter after curious roots and the +amateur of finely shaded significances in Piel and Pual. + +"I WILL not be distracted!" Ralph said doggedly, though a Scot, +correct for once in his grammar; and he pursued a recalcitrant +particle through the dictionary like a sleuthhound. + +A clear shrill whistle rang through the slumberous summer air. + +"Bless me," said Ralph, startled, "this is most discomposing!" + +He raised himself cautiously on his elbow, and beheld the girl of +the water-pails standing in the full sunshine with her lilac +sunbonnet in her hand. She wared it high above her head, then she +paused a moment to look right in his direction under her hand held +level with her brows. Suddenly she dropped the sunbonnet, put a +couple of fingers into her mouth in a manner which, if Ralph had +only known it, was much admired of all the young men in the +parish, and whistled clear and loud, so that the stone-chat +fluttered up indignant and scurried to a shelter deeper among the +gorse. A most revolutionary young person this. He regretted that +the humble-bee had moved him nearer the bridge. + +Ralph was deeply shocked that a girl should whistle, and still +more that she should use two fingers to do it, for all the world +like a shepherd on the hill. He bethought him that not one of his +cousins, Professor Habakkuk Thriepneuk's daughters (who studied +Chaldaeic with their father), would ever have dreamed of doing +that. He imagined their horror at the thought, and a picture, +compound of Jemima, Kezia, and Kerenhappuch, rose before him. + +Down the hill, out from beneath the dark green solid foliaged +elder bushes, there came a rush of dogs. + +"Save us," said Ralph, who saw himself discovered, "the deil's in +the lassie; she'll have the dogs on me!"--an expression he had +learned from John Bairdison, his father's "man," [Footnote: Church +officer and minister's servant.] who in an unhallowed youth had +followed the sea. + +Then he would have reproved himself for the unlicensed exclamation +as savouring of the "minced oath," had he not been taken up with +watching the dogs. There were two of them. One was a large, rough +deerhound, clean cut about the muzzle, shaggy everywhere else, +which ran first, taking the hedges in his stride. The other was a +small, short-haired collie, which, with his ears laid back and an +air of grim determination not to be left behind, followed grimly +after. The collie went under the hedges, diving instinctively for +the holes which the hares had made as they went down to the water +for their evening drink. Both dogs crossed to windward of him, +racing for their mistress. When they reached the green level where +the great tubs stood they leaped upon her with short sharp barks +of gladness. She fended them off again with gracefully impatient +hand; then bending low, she pointed to the loch-side a quarter of +a mile below, where a herd of half a dozen black Galloway cows, +necked with the red and white of the smaller Ayrshires, could be +seen pushing its way through the lush heavy grass of the water +meadow. + +"Away by there! Fetch them, Roger!" she cried. "Haud at them--the +kye's in the meadow!" + +The dogs darted away level. The cows continued their slow advance, +browsing as they went, but in a little while their dark fronts +were turned towards the dogs as after a momentary indecision they +recognized an enemy. With a startled rush the herd drove through +the meadow and poured across the unfenced road up to the hill +pasture which they had left, whose scanty grasses had doubtless +turned slow bovine thoughts to the coolness of the meadow grass, +and the pleasure of standing ruminant knee-deep in the river, with +wavy tail nicking the flies in the shade. + +For a little while Ralph Peden breathed freely again, but his +satisfaction was short-lived. One girl was discomposing enough, +but here were two. Moreover the new-comer, having arranged some +blankets in a tub to her satisfaction, calmly tucked up her skirts +in a professional manner and got bare-foot into the tub beside +them. Then it dawned upon Ralph, who was not very instructed on +matters of household economy, that he had chanced upon a Galloway +blanket-washing; and that, like the gentleman who spied upon +Musidora's toilet, of whom he had read in Mr. James Thomson's +Seasons, he might possibly see more than he had come out to see. + +Yet it was impossible to rise composedly and take his way +manseward. Ralph wished now that he had gone at the first alarm. +It had become so much more difficult now, as indeed it always does +in such cases. Moreover, he was certain that these two vagabonds +of curs would return. And they would be sure to find him out. Dogs +were unnecessary and inconvenient beasts, always sniffing and +nosing about. He decided to wait. The new-comer of the kilts was +after all no Naiad or Hebe. Her outlines did not resemble to any +marked degree the plates in his excellent classical dictionary. +She was not short in stature, but so strong and of a complexion so +ruddily beaming above the reaming white which filled the blanket +tub, that her mirthful face shone like the sun through an evening +mist. + +But Ralph did not notice that, in so far as she could, she had +relieved the taller maiden of the heavier share of the work; and +that her laugh was hung on a hair trigger, to go off at every jest +and fancy of Winsome Charteris. All this is to introduce Miss Meg +Kissock, chief and favoured maidservant at the Dullarg farm, and +devoted worshipper of Winsome, the young mistress thereof. Meg +indeed, would have thanked no one for an introduction, being at +all times well able (and willing) to introduce herself. + +It had been a shock to Ralph Peden when Meg Kissock walked up from +the lane-side barefoot, and when she cleared the decks for the +blanket tramping. But he had seen something like it before on the +banks of the water of Leith, then running clear and limpid over +its pebbles, save for a flour-mill or two on the lower reaches. +But it was altogether another thing when, plain as print, he saw +his first goddess of the shining water-pails sit calmly down on +the great granite boulder in the shadow of the bridge, and take +one small foot in her hand with the evident intention of removing +her foot-gear and occupying the second tub. + +The hot blood surged in responsive shame to Ralph Peden's cheeks +and temples. He started up. Meg Kissock was tramping the blankets +rhythmically, holding her green kirtle well up with both hands, +and singing with all her might. The goddess of the shining pails +was also happily unconscious, with her face to the running water. +Ralph bent low and hastened through a gap in the fence towards the +shade of the elder bushes on the slope. He did not run--he has +never acknowledged that; but he certainly came almost +indistinguishably near it. As soon, however, as he was really out +of sight, he actually did take to his heels and run in the +direction of the manse, disconcerted and demoralized. + +The dogs completed his discomfiture, for they caught sight of his +flying figure and gave chase--contenting themselves, however, with +pausing on the hillside where Ralph had been lying, with indignant +barkings and militant tails high crested in air. + +Winsome Charteris went up to the broom bushes which fringed the +slope to find out what was the matter with Tyke and Roger. When +she got there, a slim black figure was just vanishing round the +white bend of the Far Away Turn. Winsome whistled low this time, +and without putting even one finger into her mouth. + + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE MOTHER OF KING LEMUEL. + + +It was not till Ralph Peden had returned to the study of the manse +of the Marrow kirk of Dullarg, and the colour induced by exercise +had had time to die out of his naturally pale cheeks, that he +remembered that he had left his Hebrew Bible and Lexicon, as well +as a half-written exegesis on an important subject, underneath the +fatal whin bush above the bridge over the Grannoch water. He would +have been glad to rise and seek it immediately--a task which, +indeed, no longer presented itself in such terrible colours to +him. He found himself even anxious to go. It would be a serious +thing were he to lose his father's Lexicon and Mr. Welsh's Hebrew +Bible. Moreover, he could not bear the thought of leaving the +sheets of his exposition of the last chapter of Proverbs to be the +sport of the gamesome Galloway winds--or, worse thought, the +laughing-stock of gamesome young women who whistled with two +fingers in their mouths. + +Yet the picture of the maid of the loch which rose before him +struck him as no unpleasant one. He remembered for one thing how +the sun shone through the tangle of her hair. But he had quite +forgotten, on the other hand, at what part of his exegesis he had +left off. It was, however, a manifest impossibility for him to +slip out again. Besides, he was in mortal terror lest Mr. Welsh +should ask for his Hebrew Bible, or offer to revise his chapter of +the day with him. All the afternoon he was uneasy, finding no +excuse to take himself away to the loch-side in order to find his +Bible and Lexicon. + +"I understand you have been studying, with a view to license, the +last chapter of the Proverbs of Solomon?" said Gilbert Welsh, +interrogatively, bending his shaggy brows and pouting his underlip +at the student. + +The Marrow minister was a small man, with a body so dried and +twisted ("shauchelt" was the local word) that all the nerve stuff +of a strong nature had run up to his brain, so that when he walked +he seemed always on the point of falling forward, overbalanced by +the weight of his cliff-like brow. + +"Ralph, will you ground the argument of the mother of King Lemuel +in this chapter? But perhaps you would like to refer to the +original Hebrew?" said the minister. + +"Oh, no," interrupted Ralph, aghast at the latter suggestion, "I +do not need the text--thank you, sir." + +But, in spite of his disclaimer, he devoutly desired to be where +the original text and his written comment upon it were at that +moment--which, indeed, was a consummation even more devoutly to be +wished than he had any suspicion of. The Marrow minister leaned +his head on his hand and looked waitingly at the young man. + +Ralph recalled himself with an effort. He had to repeat to himself +that he was in the manse study, and almost to pinch his knee to +convince himself of the reality of his experiences. But this was +not necessary a second time, for, as he sat hastily down on one of +Allen Welsh's hard-wood chairs, a prickle from the gorse bush +which he had brought back with him from Loch Grannoch side was +argument sharp enough to convince Bishop Berkeley. + +"Compose yourself to answer my question," said the minister, with +some slight severity. Ralph wondered silently if even a minister +of the Marrow kirk in good standing, could compose himself on one +whin prickle for certain, and the probability of several others +developing themselves at various angles hereafter. + +Ralph "grounded" himself as best as he could, explaining the views +of the mother of King Lemuel as to the woman of virtue and +faithfulness. He seemed to himself to have a fluency and a fervour +in exposition to which he had been a stranger. He began to have +new views about the necessity for the creation of Eve. Woman might +possibly, after all, be less purely gratuitous than he had +supposed. + +"The woman who is above rubies," said he, "is one who rises early +to care for the house, who oversees the handmaids as they cleanse +the household stuffs--in a" (he just saved himself from saying "in +a black pot")--"in a fitting vessel by the rivers of water." + +"Well put and correctly mandated," said Mr. Welsh, very much +pleased. There was unction about this young man. Though a bachelor +by profession, he loved to hear the praises of good women; for he +had once known one. + +"She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and--" + +Here Ralph paused, biting his tongue to keep from describing the +picture which rose before him. + +"And what," said the minister, tentatively, leaning forward to +look into the open face of the young man, "what is the distinction +or badge of true beauty and favour of countenance, as so well +expressed by the mother of King Lemuel?" + +"A LILAC SUNBONNET!" said Ralph Peden, student in divinity. + + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +A TREASURE-TROVE. + + +Winsome CHARTERIS was a self-possessed maid, but undeniably her +heart beat faster when she found on the brae face, beneath the +bush of broom, two books the like of which she had never seen +before, as well as an open notebook with writing upon it in the +neatest and delicatest of hands. First, as became a prudent woman +of experience, she went up to the top of the hill to assure +herself that the owner of this strange treasure was not about to +return. Then she carefully let down her high-kilted print dress +till only her white feet "like little mice" stole in and out. It +did not strike her that this sacrifice to the conventions was just +a trifle belated. + +As she returned she said "Shoo!" at every tangled bush, and +flapped her apron as if to scare whatever curious wild fowl might +have left behind it in its nest under the broom such curious nest- +eggs as two great books full of strange, bewitched-looking +printing, and a note-book of curious and interesting writings. +Then, with a half sigh of disappointment, Winsome Charteris sat +herself down to look into this matter. Meg Kissock from the bridge +end showed signs of coming up to see what she was about; but +Winsome imperiously checked the movement. + +"Bide where you are, Meg; I'll be down with you presently." + +She turned over the great Hebrew Bible reverently. "A. Welsh" was +written on the fly-leaf. She had a strange idea that she had seen +it before. It seemed somehow thrillingly familiar. + +"That's the minister's Hebrew Bible book, no doubt," she said. +"For that's the same kind of printing as between the double verses +of the hundred-and-nineteenth Psalm in my grandfather's big +Bible," she continued, sapiently shaking her head till the crispy +ringlets tumbled about her eyes, and she had impatiently to toss +them aside. + +She laid the Bible down and peeped into the other strange-looking +book. There were single words here of the same kind as in the +other, but the most part was in ordinary type, though in a +language of which she could make nothing. The note-book was a +resource. It was at least readable, and Winsome Charteris began +expectantly to turn it over. But something stirred reprovingly in +her heart. It seemed as if she were listening to a conversation +not meant for her. So she kept her finger on the leaf, but did not +turn it. + +"No," she said, "I will not read it. It is not meant for me." +Then, after a pause, "At least I will only read this page which is +open, and then look at the beginning to see whose it is; for, you +know, I may need to send it back to him." The back she had seen +vanish round the Far Away Turn demanded the masculine pronoun. + +She lifted the book and read: + +"Alas!" (so ran the writing, fluent and clear, small as printer's +type, Ralph Peden's beautiful Hellenic script), "alas, that the +good qualities of the housewives of Solomon's days are out of date +and forgotten in these degenerate times! Women, especially the +younger of them, are become gadabouts, chatterers in the public +ways, idle, adorners of their vain selves, pamperers of their +frail tabernacles--" + +Winsome threw down the book and almost trod upon it as upon a +snake. + +"'Tis some city fop," she said, stamping her foot, "who is tired +of the idle town dames. I wonder if he has ever seen the sun rise +or done a day's work in his life? If only I had the wretch! But I +will read no more!" + +In token of the sincerity of the last assertion, she picked up the +note-book again. There was little more to read. It was at this +point that the humble-bee had startled the writer. + +But underneath there were woids faintly scrawled in pencil: "Must +concentrate attention"--"The proper study of mankind is"--this +last written twice, as if the writer were practising copy-lines +absently. Then at the very bottom was written, so faintly that +hardly any eyes but Winsome's could have read the words: + +"Of all colours I do love the lilac. I wonder all maids do not +wear gear of that hue!" + +"Oh!" said Winsome Charteris quickly. + +Then she gathered up the books very gently, and taking a kerchief +from her neck, she folded the two great books within it, fastening +them with a cunning knot. She was carrying them slowly up towards +the farm town of Craig Ronald in her bare arms when Ralph Peden +sat answering his catechism in the study at the manse. She entered +the dreaming courtyard, and walked sedately across its silent sun- +flooded spaces without a sound. She passed the door of the cool +parlour where her grandfather and grandmother sat, the latter with +her hands folded and her great tortoiseshell spectacles on her +nose, taking her afternoon nap. A volume of Waverley lay beside +her. Into her own white little room Winsome went, and laid the +bundle of books in the bottom of the wall-press, which was lined +with sheets of the Cairn Edward Miscellany. She looked at it some +time before she shut the door. + +"His name is Ralph," she said. "I wonder how old he is--I shall +know tomorrow, because he will come back; but--I would like to +know tonight." + +She sighed a little--so light a breath that it was only the dream +of a sigh. Then she looked at the lilac sunbonnet, as if it ought +to have known. + +"At any rate he has very good taste," she said. + +But the lilac sunbonnet said never a word. + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A CAVALIER PURITAN. + + +The farm town of Craig Ronald drowsed in the quiet of noon. In the +open court the sunshine triumphed, and only the purple-grey marsh +mallows along the side of the house under the windows gave any +sign of life. In them the bees had begun to hum at earliest dawn, +an hour and a half before the sun looked over the crest of Ben +Gairn. They were humming busily still. In all the chambers of the +house there was the same reposeful stillness. Through them Winsome +Charteris moved with free, light step. She glanced in to see that +her grandfather and grandmother were wanting for nothing in their +cool and wide sitting-room, where the brown mahogany-cased eight- +day clock kept up an unequal ticking, like a man walking upon two +wooden legs of which one is shorter than the other. + +It said something for Winsome Charteris and her high-hearted +courage, that what she was accustomed to see in that sitting-room +had no effect upon her spirits. It was a pleasant room enough, +with two windows looking to the south--little round-budded, pale- +petalled monthly roses nodding and peeping within the opened +window-frames. Sweet it was with a great peace, every chair +covered with old sprigged chintz, flowers of the wood and heather +from the hill set in china vases about it. The room where the old +folk dwelt at Craig Ronald was fresh within as is the dew on +sweetbrier. Fresh, too, was the apparel of her grandmother, the +flush of youth yet on her delicate cheek, though the Psalmist's +limit had long been passed for her. + +As Winsome looked within, + +"Are ye not sleeping, grandmother?" she said. + +The old lady looked up with a resentful air. + +"Sleepin'! The lassie's gane gyte! [out of her senses]. What for +wad I be sleepin' in the afternune? An' me wi' the care o' yer +gran'faither--sic a handling, him nae better nor a bairn, an' you +a bit feckless hempie wi' yer hair fleeing like the tail o' a twa- +year-auld cowt! [colt]. Sleepin' indeed! Na, sleepin's nane for +me!" + +The young girl came up and put her arms about her grandmother. + +"That's rale unceevil o' ye, noo, Granny Whitemutch!" she said, +speaking in the coaxing tones to which the Scots' language lends +itself so easily, "an' it's just because I hae been sae lang at +the blanket-washin', seein' till that hizzy Meg. An' ken ye what I +saw!-ane o' the black dragoons in full retreat, grannie; but he +left his camp equipage ahint him, as the sergeant said when--Ye +ken the story, grannie. Ye maun hae been terrible bonny in thae +days!" + +"'Deed I'm nane sae unbonny yet, for a' yer helicat +flichtmafleathers, sprigget goons, an' laylac bonnets," said the +old lady, shaking her head till the white silk top-knots trembled. +"No, nor I'm nane sae auld nayther. The gudeman in the corner +there, he's auld and dune gin'ye like, but no me--no me! Gin he +warna spared to me, I could even get a man yet," continued the +lively old lady, "an' whaur wad ye be then, my lass, I wad like to +ken?" + +"Perhaps I could get one too, grannie," she said. And she shook +her head with an air of triumph. Winsome kissed her grandmother +gently on the brow. + +"Nane o' yer Englishy tricks an' trokin's," said she, settling the +white muslin band which she wore across her brow wrinkleless and +straight, where it had been disarrayed by the onslaught of her +impulsive granddaughter. + +"Aye," she went on, stretching out a hand which would have done +credit to a great dame, so white and slender was it in spite of +the hollows which ran into a triangle at the wrist, and the pale- +blue veins which the slight wrinkles have thrown into relief. + +"An' I mind the time when three o' his Majesty's officers--nane +o' yer militia wi' horses that rin awa' wi' them ilka time they +gang oot till exerceese, but rale sodgers wi' sabre-tashies to +their heels and spurs like pitawtie dreels. Aye, sirs, but that +was before I married an elder in the Kirk o' the Marrow. I wasna +twenty-three when I had dune wi' the gawds an' vanities o' this +wicked world." + +"I saw a minister lad the day--a stranger," said Winsome, very +quietly. + +"Sirce me," returned her grandmother briskly; "kenned I e'er the +like o' ye, Winifred Chayrteris, for licht-heedit-ness an' lack o' +a' common sense! Saw a minister an' ne'er thocht, belike, o' +sayin' cheep ony mair nor if he had been a wutterick [weasel]. An' +what like was he, na? Was he young, or auld--or no sae verra auld, +like mysel'? Did he look like an Establisher by the consequence o' +the body, or--" + +"But, grannie dear, how is it possible that I should ken, when all +that I saw of him was but his coat-tails? It was him that was +running away." + +"My certes," said grannie, "but the times are changed since my +day! When I was as young as ye are the day it wasna sodger or +minister ayther that wad hae run frae the sicht o' me. But a +minister, and a fine, young-looking man, I think ye said," +continued Mistress Walter Skirving anxiously. + +"Indeed, grandmother, I said nothing--" began Winsome. + +"Haud yer tongue, Deil's i' the lassie, he'll be comin' here. +Maybes he's comin' up the loan this verra meenit. Get me my best +kep [cap], the French yin o' Flanders lawn trimmed wi' Valenceenes +lace that Captain Wildfeather, of his Majesty's--But na, I'll no +think o' thae times, I canna bear to think o' them wi' ony +complaisance ava. But bring me my kep--haste ye fast, lassie!" + +Obediently Winsome went to her grandmother's bedroom and drew from +under the bed the "mutch" box lined with pale green paper, +patterned with faded pink roses. She did not smile when she drew +it out. She was accustomed to her grandmother's ways. She too +often felt the cavalier looking out from under her Puritan +teaching; for the wild strain of the Gordon blood held true to its +kind, and Winsome's grandmother had been a Gordon at Lochenkit, +whose father had ridden with Kenmure in the great rebellion. + +When she brought the white goffered mutch with its plaits and +puckers, granny tried it on in various ways, Winsome meanwhile +holding a small mirror before her. + +"As I was sayin', I renounced thinkin' aboot the vanities o' youth +langsyne. Aye, it'll be forty years sin'--for ye maun mind that I +was marriet whan but a lassie. Aye me, it's forty-five years since +Ailie Gordon, as I was then, wed wi' Walter Skirving o' Craig +Ronald (noo o' his ain chammer neuk, puir man, for he'll never +leave it mair)," added she with a brisk kind of acknowledgment +towards the chair of the semi-paralytic in the corner. + +There silent and unregarding Walter Skirving sat--a man still +splendid in frame and build, erect in his chair, a shawl over his +knees even in this day of fervent heat, looking out dumbly on the +drowsing, humming world of broad, shadowless noonshine, and often +also on the equable silences of the night. + +"No that I regret it the day, when he is but the name o' the man +he yince was. For fifty years since there was nae lad like Walter +Skirving cam into Dumfries High Street frae Stewartry or frae +Shire. No a fit in buckled shune sae licht as his, his weel-shapit +leg covered wi' the bonny 'rig-an'-fur' stockin' that I knitted +mysel' frae the cast on o' the ower-fauld [over-fold] to the bonny +white forefit that sets aff the blue sae weel. Walter Skirving +could button his knee-breeks withoot bendin' his back--that nane +could do but the king's son himsel'; an' sic a dancer as he was +afore guid an' godly Maister Cauldsowans took hand o' him at the +tent, wi' preachin' a sermon on booin' the knee to Baal. Aye, aye, +its a' awa'--an' its mony the year I thocht on it, let alane +thocht on wantin' back thae days o' vanity an' the pride o' sinfu' +youth!" + +"Tell me about the officer men, granny," said Winsome. + +"'Deed wull I no. It wad be mair tellin' ye gin ye were learnin' +yer Caritches" [Westminster Catechism]. + +"But, grandmammy dear, I thought that you said that the officer +men ran away from you--" + +"Hear till her! Rin frae me? Certes, ye're no blate. They cam' +frae far an' near to get a word wi' me. Na, there was nae rinnin' +frae a bonny lass in thae days. Weel, there was three o' them; an' +they cam' ower the hill to see the lasses, graund in their reed +breeks slashed wi' yellow. An' what for no, they war his Majesty's +troopers; an' though nae doot they had been on the wrang side o' +the dyke, they were braw chiels for a' that!" + +"An' they cam' to see you, granny?" asked Winsome, who approved of +the subject. + +"What else--but they got an unco begunk [cheat]. Ye see, my +faither had bocht an awfu' thrawn young bull at the Dumfries fair, +an' he had been gaun gilravagin' aboot; an' whaur should the +contrary beast betak' himsel' to but into the Roman camp on Craig +Ronald bank, where the big ditch used to be? There we heard him +routin' for three days till the cotmen fand him i' the hinderend, +an' poo'ed him oot wi' cart-rapes. But when he got oot--certes, +but he was a wild beast! He got at Jock Hinderlands afore he could +climb up a tree; an', fegs, he gaed up a tree withoot clim'in', +I'se warrant, an' there he hung, hanket by the waistband o' his +breeks, baa-haain' for his minnie to come and lift him doon, an' +him as muckle a clampersome [awkward] hobbledehoy as ever ye saw! + +"Then what did Carlaverock Jock do but set his heid to a yett +[gate] and ding it in flinders; fair fire-wood he made o't; an' +sae, rampagin' into the meadow across whilk," continued the old +lady, with a rising delight in her eye, "the three cavalry men +were comin' to see me, wi' the spurs on them jangling clear. Reed +breeks did na suit Jock's taste at the best o' times, and he had +no been brocht up to countenance yellow facin's. So the three braw +King George's sodgers that had dune sic graund things at Waterloo +took the quickest road through the meadow. Captain St. Clair, he +trippit on his sword, an' was understood to cry oot that he had +never eaten beef in his life. Ensign Withershins threw his shako +ower his shoother and jumpit intil the water, whaur he expressed +his opinion o' Carlaverock Jock stan'in' up to his neck in Luckie +Mowatt's pool--the words I dinna juist call to mind at this +present time, which, indeed, is maybe as weel; but it was +Lieutenant Lichtbody, o' his Majesty's Heavy Dragoons, that cam' +aff at the waurst. He made for the stane dyke, the sven-fite march +dyke that rins up the hill, ye ken. Weel, he made as if he wad +mak' ower it, but Boreland'a big Heelant bull had heard the +routin' o' his friend Carlaverock Jock, an' was there wi' his +horns spread like a man keppin' yowes [catching sheep]. Aye, my +certes!" here the old lady paused, overcome by the humour of her +recollections, laughing in her glee a delightfully catching and +mellow laugh, in which Winsome joined. + +"Sae there was my braw beau, Lieutenant Lichtbody, sittin' on his +hunkers on the dyke tap girnin' at Carlaverock Jock an' the +Boreland Hielantman on baith sides o' him, an' tryin' tae hit them +ower the nose wi' the scabbard o' his sword, for the whinger +itsel' had drappit oot in what ye micht ca' the forced retreat. It +was bonny, bonny to see; an' whan the three cam' up the loanin' +the neist day, 'Sirs,' I said, 'I'm thinkin' ye had better be +gaun. I saw Carlaverock Jock the noo, fair tearin' up the +greensward. It wudna be bonny gin his Majesty's officers had twice +to mak' sae rapid a march to the rear--an' you, Lieutenant +Lichtbody, canna hae a'thegither gotten the better o' yer lang +sederunt on the tap o' the hill dyke. It's a bonny view that ye +had. It was a peety that ye had forgotten yer perspective +glasses.' + +"And wad ye believe it, lassie, the threesome turned on the braid +o'their fit an' marched doon the road withoot as muckle as Fair- +guid-e'en or Fair-guid-day!" + +"And what said ye, grannie dear?" said Winsome, who sat on a low +seat looking up at her granny. + +"O lassie, I juist set my braid hat ower my lug wi' the bonny +white cockade intil't an' gied them 'The Wee, Wee German Lairdie' +as they gaed doon the road, an' syne on the back o't: + + "'Awa, Whigs, awa'! + Ye're but a pack----'" + +But the great plaid-swathed figure of Winsome's grandfather turned +at the words of the long-forgotten song as though waking from a +deep sleep. A slumberous fire gleamed momentarily in his eye. + +"Woman," he said, "hold your peace; let not these words be heard +in the house of Walter Skirving!" + +Having thus delivered himself, the fire faded out of his eyes dead +as black ashes; he turned to the window, and lost himself again in +meditation, looking with steady eyes across the ocean of sunshine +which flooded the valley beneath. + +His wife gave him no answer. She seemed scarce to have heard the +interruption. But Winsome went across and pulled the heavy plaid +gently off her grandfather's shoulder. Then she stood quietly by +him with one hand upon his head and with the other she gently +stroked his brow. A milder light grew in his dull eye, and he put +up his hand uncertainly as if to take hers. + +"But what for should I be takin' delicht in speakin' o' thae auld +unsanctified regardless days," said her grandmother, "that 'tis +mony a year since I hae ta'en ony pleesure in thinkin' on? Gae +wa', ye hempie that ye are!" she cried, turning with a sudden and +uncalled-for sparkle of temper on her granddaughter; "There's nae +time an' little inclination in this hoose for yer flichty +conversation. I wonder muckle that yer thouchts are sae set on the +vanities o' young men. And such are all that delight in them." She +went on somewhat irrelevantly, "Did not godly Maister Cauldsowans +redd up [settle] the doom o' such--'all desirable young men riding +upon horses--'" + +"An' I'll gae redd up the dairy, an' kirn the butter, grannie!" +said Winsome Charteris, breaking in on the flow of her +grandmother's reproaches. + + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A LESSON IN BOTANY. + + +No lassie in all the hill country went forth more heart-whole +into the June morning than Winsome Charteris. She was not, indeed, +wholly a girl of the south uplands. Her grandmother was never done +reminding her of her "Englishy" ways, which, according to that +authority, she had contracted during those early years she had +spent in Cumberland. From thence she had been brought to the farm +town of Craig Ronald, soon after the death of her only uncle, Adam +Skirving--whose death, coming after the loss of her own mother, +had taken such an effect upon her grandfather that for years he +had seldom spoken, and now took little interest in the ongoings of +the farm. + +Walter Skirving was one of a class far commoner in Galloway sixty +years ago than now. He was a "bonnet laird" of the best type, and +his farm, which included all kinds of soil--arable and pasture, +meadow and moor, hill pasture and wood--was of the value of about +L300 a year, a sum sufficient in those days to make him a man of +substance and consideration in the country. + +He had been all his life, except for a single year in his youth +when he broke bounds, a Marrow man of the strictest type; and it +had been the wonder and puzzle of his life (to others, not to +himself) how he came to make up to Ailie Gordon, the daughter of +the old moss-trooping Lochenkit Gordons, that had ridden with the +laird of Redgauntlet in the killing time, and more recently had +been out with Maxwell of Nithsdale, and Gordon of Kenmure, to +strike a blow for the "King-over-the-Water." And to this very day, +though touched with a stroke which prevented her from moving far +out of her chair, Ailie Skirving showed the good blood and high- +hearted lightsomeness that had won the young laird of Craig Ronald +upon the Loch Grannoch side nearly fifty years before. + +It was far more of a wonder how Ailie Gordon came to take Walter +Skirving. It may be that she felt in her heart the accent of a +true man in the unbending, nonjuring elder of the Marrow kirk. Two +great heart-breaks had crossed their lives: the shadow of the life +story of Winsome's mother, that earlier Winsome whose name had not +been heard for twenty years in the house of Craig Ronald; and the +more recent death of Adam, the strong, silent, chivalrous-natured +son who had sixteen years ago been killed, falling from his horse +as he rode home alone one winter's night from Dumfries. + +It was a natural thing to be in love with Winsome Charteris. It +seemed natural to Winsome herself. Ever since she was a little +lass running to school in Keswick, with a touse of lint-white +locks blowing out in the gusts that came swirling off Skiddaw, +Winsome had always been conscious of a train of admirers. The boys +liked to carry her books, and were not so ashamed to walk home +with her, as even at six years of age young Cumbrians are wont to +be in the company of maids. Since she came to Galloway, and opened +out with each succeeding year, like the bud of a moss rose growing +in a moist place, Winsome had thought no more of masculine +admiration than of the dull cattle that "goved" [stared stupidly] +upon her as she picked her deft way among the stalls in the byre. +In all Craig Ronald there was nothing between the hill and the +best room that did not bear the mark of Winsome's method and +administrative capacity. In perfect dependence upon Winsome, her +granny had gradually abandoned all the management of the house to +her, so that at twenty that young woman was a veritable Napoleon +of finance and capacity. Only old Richard Clelland of the +Boreland, grave and wise pillar of the kirk by law established, +still transacted her market business and banked her siller--being, +as he often said, proud to act as "doer" for so fair a principal. +So it happened that all the reins of government about this tiny +lairdship of one farm were in the strong and capable hands of a +girl of twenty. + +And Meg Kissock was her true admirer and faithful slave--Winsome's +heavy hand, too, upon occasion; for all the men on the farm stood +in awe of Meg's prowess, and very especially of Meg's tongue. So +also the work fell mostly upon these two, and in less measure upon +a sister of Meg's, Jess Kissock, lately returned from England, a +young lady whom we have already met. + +During the night and morning Winsome had studied with some +attention the Hebrew Bible, in which the name Allan Welsh +appeared, as well as the Latin Luther Commentary, and the Hebrew +Lexicon, on the first page of which the name of Ralph Peden was +written in the same neat print hand as in the note-book. + +This was the second day of the blanket-washing, and Winsome, +having in her mind a presentiment that the proprietor of these +learned quartos would appear to claim his own, carried them down +to the bridge, where Meg and her sister were already deep in the +mysteries of frothing tubs and boiling pots. Winsome from the +broomy ridge could hear the shrill "giff-gaff" [give and take] of +their colloquy. She sat down under Ralph's very broom bush, and +absently turned over the leaves of the note-book, catching +sentences here and there. + +"I wonder how old he is?" she said, meditatively; "his coat-tails +looked old, but the legs went too lively for an old man; besides, +he likes maids to be dressed in lilac--" She paused still more +thoughtfully. "Well, we shall see." She bent over and pulled the +milky-stalked, white-seeded head of a dandelion. Taking it between +the finger and thumb of her left hand she looked critically at it +as though it were a glass of wine. "He is tall, and he is fair, +and his age is--" + +Here she pouted her pretty lips and blew. + +"One--ha, ha!--he was an active infant when he ran from the +blanket-tramping--two, three, four--" + +Some tiny feather-headed spikelets disengaged themselves +unwillingly from the round and venerable downpolled dandelion. +They floated lazily up between the tassels of the broom upon the +light breeze. + +"Five, six, seven, eight--faith, he was a clean-heeled laddie yon. +Ye couldna see his legs or coat-tails for stour as he gaed roon' +the Far Away Turn." + +Winsome was revelling in her broad Scots. She had learned it from +her grandmother. + +"Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen--I'll no +can set the dogs on him then--sixteen, seventeen, eighteen--dear +me, this is becoming interesting." + +The plumules were blowing off freely now, like snow from the eaves +on a windy day in winter. + +"Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one--I must reverence my elders. If I +don't blow stronger he'll turn out to be fifty--twenty-three, +twenty-f--" + +A shadow fell across the daintily-held dandelion and lay a blue +patch on the grass. Only one pale grey star stood erect on the +stem, the vacant green sheathing of the calyx turning suddenly +down. + +"TWENTY-FOUR!--" said Ralph Peden quietly, standing with his hat +in his hand and an eager flush on his cheek. The last plumule +floated away. + +Winsome Charteris had risen instinctively, and stood looking with +crimson cheeks and quicker-coming breath at this young man who +came upon her in the nick of time. + +He was startled and a little indignant. So they stood facing one +another while one might count a score--silent and drinking each +the other in, with that flashing transference of electric sympathy +possible only to the young and the innocent. + +It was the young man who spoke first. Winsome was a little +indignant that he should dare to come upon her while so engaged. +Not, of course, that she cared for a moment what he thought of +her, but he ought to have known better than to have stolen upon +her while she was behaving in such a ridiculous, childish way. It +showed what he was capable of. + +"My name is Ralph Peden," he said humbly. "I came from Edinburgh +the day before yesterday. I am staying with Mr. Welsh at the +manse." + +Winsome Charteris glanced down at the books and blushed still more +deeply. The Hebrew Bible and Lexicon lay harmlessly enough on the +grass, and the Luther was swinging in a frivolous and +untheological way on the strong, bent twigs of broom. But where +was the note-book? Like a surge of Solway tide the remembrance +came over her that, when she had plucked the dandelion for her +soothsaying, she had thrust it carelessly into the bosom of her +lilac-sprigged gown. Indeed, a corner of it peeped out at this +moment. Had he seen it?--monstrous thought! She knew young men and +the interpretations that they put upon nothings! This, in spite of +his solemn looks and mantling bashfulness, was a young man. + +"Then I suppose these are yours," said Winsome, turning sideways +towards the indicated articles so as to conceal the note-book. The +young man removed his eyes momentarily from her face and looked in +the direction of the books. He seemed to have entirely forgotten +what it was that had brought him to Loch Grannoch bridge so early +this June morning. Winsome took advantage of his glance to feel +that her sunbonnet sat straight, and as her hand was on its way to +her clustering curls she took this opportunity of thrusting +Ralph's note-book into more complete concealment. Then her hands +went up to her head only to discover that her sunbonnet had +slipped backward, and was now hanging down her back by the +strings. + +Ralph Peden looked up at her, apparently entirely satisfied. What +was a note-book to him now? He saw the sunbonnet resting upon the +wavy distraction of the pale gold hair. He had a luxurious eye for +colour. That lilac and gold went well together, was his thought. + +Trammelled by the fallen head-gear, Winsome threw her head back, +shaking out her tresses in a way that Ralph Peden never forgot. +Then she caught at the strings of the errant bonnet. + +"Oh, let it alone!" he suddenly exclaimed. + +"Sir?" said Winsome Charteris--interrogatively, not imperatively. +Ralph Peden, who had taken a step forward in the instancy of his +appeal, came to himself again in a moment. + +"I beg your pardon," he said very humbly, "I had no right--" + +He paused, uncertain what to say. + +Winsome Charteris looked up quickly, saw the simplicity of the +young man, in one full eye-blink read his heart, then dropped her +eyes again and said: + +"But I thought you liked lilac sunbonnets!" + +Ralph Peden had now his turn to blush. Hardly in the secret of his +own heart had he said this thing. Only to Mr. Welsh had his +forgetful tongue uttered the word that was in his mind, and which +had covered since yesterday morn all the precepts of that most +superfluous wise woman, the mother of King Lemuel. + +"Are you a witch?" asked Ralph, blundering as an honest and +bashful man may in times of distress into the boldest speech. + +"You want to go up and see my grandmother, do you not?" said +Winsome, gravely, for such conversation was not to be continued on +any conditions. + +"Yes," said the young man, perjuring himself with a readiness and +facility most unbecoming in a student desiring letters of +probation from the Protesting and Covenant-keeping Kirk of the +Marrow. + +Ralph Peden lightly picked up the books, which, as Winsome knew, +were some considerable weight to carry. + +"Do you find them quite safe?" she asked. + +"There was a heavy dew last night," he answered, "but in spite of +it they seem quite dry. + +"We often notice the same thing on Loch Grannoch side," said +Winsome. + +"I thought--that is, I was under the impression--that I had left a +small book with some manuscript notes!" said the young man, +tentatively. + +"It may have dropped among the broom," replied the simple maid. + +Whereupon the two set to seeking, both bareheaded, brown cropped +head and golden wilderness of tresses not far from one another, +while the "book of manuscript notes" rose and fell to the +quickened heart-beating of that wicked and deceitful girl, Winsome +Charteris. + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +CURLED EYELASHES. + + +Now Meg Kissock could stand a great deal, and she would put up +with a great deal to pleasure her mistress; but half an hour of +loneliness down by the washing was overly much for her, and the +struggle between loyalty and curiosity ended, after the manner of +her sex, in the victory of the latter. + +As Ralph and Winsome continued to seek, they came time and again +close together and the propinquity of flushed cheek and mazy +ringlet stirred something in the lad's heart which had never been +touched by the Mistresses Thriepneuk, who lived where the new +houses of the Plainstones look over the level meadows of the +Borough Muir. His father had often said within himself, as he +walked the Edinburgh streets to visit some sick kirk member, as he +had written to his friend Adam Welsh, "Has the lad a heart?" Had +he seen him on that broomy knowe over the Grannoch water, he had +not doubted, though he might well have been fearful enough of that +heart's too sudden awakening. + +Never before had the youth come within that delicate AURA of charm +which radiates from the bursting bud of the finest womanhood. +Ralph Peden had kept his affections ascetically virgin. His +nature's finest juices had gone to feed the brain, yet all the +time his heart had waited expectant of the revealing of a mystery. +Winsome Charteris had come so suddenly into his life that the +universe seemed newborn in a day. He sprang at once from the +thought of woman as only an unexplained part of the creation, to +the conception of her (meaning thereby Winsome Charteris) as an +angel who had not lost her first estate. + +It was a strange thing for Ralph Peden, as indeed it is to every +true man, to come for the first time within the scope of the +unconscious charms of a good girl. There is, indeed, no better +solvent of a cold nature, no better antidote to a narrow +education, no better bulwark of defence against frittering away +the strength and solemnity of first love, than a sudden, strong +plunge into its deep waters. + +Like timid bathers, who run a little way into the tide and then +run out again with ankles wet, fearful of the first chill, many +men accustom themselves to love by degrees. So they never taste +the sweetness and strength of it as did Ralph Peden in these days, +when, never having looked upon a maid with the level summer +lightning of mutual interest flashing in his eyes, he plunged into +love's fathomless mysteries as one may dive upon a still day from +some craggy platform among the westernmost isles into Atlantic +depths. + +Winsome's light summer dress touched his hand and thrilled the lad +to his remotest nerve centres. He stood light-headed, taking in as +only they twain looked over the loch with far-away eyes, that +subtle fragrance, delicate and free, which like a garment clothed +the maid of the Grannoch lochside. + +"The water's on the boil," cried Meg Kissock, setting her ruddy +shock of hair and blooming, amplified, buxom form above the knoll, +wringing at the same time the suds from her hands, "an' I canna +lift it aff mysel'." + +Her mistress looked at her with a sudden suspicion. Since when had +Meg grown so feeble? + +"We had better go down," she said simply, turning to Ralph, who +would have cheerfully assented had she suggested that they +should together walk into the loch among the lily beds. It was the +"we" that overcame him. His father had used the pronoun in quite a +different sense. "WE will take the twenty-ninth chapter of second +Chronicles this morning, Ralph--what do WE understand by this +peculiar use of VAV CONVERSIVE?" + +But it was quite another thing when Winsome Charteris said simply, +as though he had been her brother: + +"We had better go down!" + +So they went down, taking the little stile at which Winsome had +meditated over the remarks of Ralph Peden concerning the creation +of Eve upon their way. Meg Kissock led the van, and took the dyke +vigorously without troubling the steps, her kirtle fitting her for +such exercises. Winsome came next, and Ralph stood aside to let +her pass. She sprang up the low steps light as a feather, rested +her fingertips for an appreciable fraction of a second on the hand +which he instinctively held out, and was over before he realized +that anything had happened. Yet it seemed that in that contact, +light as a rose-leaf blown by the winds of late July against his +cheek, his past life had been shorn clean away from all the future +as with a sharp sword. + +Ralph Peden had dutifully kissed his cousins Jemima, Kezia, and +Kerenhappuch; but, on the whole, he had felt more pleasure when he +had partaken of the excellent bannocks prepared for him by the +fair hands of Kerenhappuch herself. But this was wholly a new +thing. His breath came suddenly short. He breathed rapidly as +though to give his lungs more air. The atmosphere seemed to have +grown rarer and colder. Indeed, it was a different world, and the +blanket-washing itself was transferred to some deliciously homely +outlying annex of paradise. + +Yet it seemed the most natural thing in the world that he should +be helping this girl, and he went forward with the greatest +assurance to lift the black pot off the fire for her. The keen, +acrid swirls of wood-smoke blew into his eyes, and the rank steam +of yellow home-made soap, manufactured with bracken ash for lye, +rose to his nostrils. Now, Ralph Peden was well made and strong. +Spare in body but accurately compacted, if he had ever struggled +with anything more formidable than the folio hide-hound Calvins +and Turretins on his father's lower shelf in James's Court, he had +been no mean antagonist. + +But, though he managed with a great effort to lift the black pot +off its gypsy tripod, he would have let the boiling contents swing +dangerously against his legs had not Winsome caught sharply at his +other hand and leaned over, so balancing the weight of the boiling +water. So they walked down the path to where the tubs stood under +the shade of the great ash-trees, with their sky-tossing, dry- +rustling leaves. There Ralph set his burden down. Meg Kissock had +been watching him keenly. She saw that he had severely burned his +hand, and also that he said nothing whatever about it. He was a +man. This gained for the young man Meg's hearty approval almost as +much as his bashfulness and native good looks. What Meg Kissock +did not know was that Ralph was altogether unconscious of the +wound in his hand. It was a deeper wound which was at that time +monopolising his thoughts. But this little incident was more than +a thousand certificates in the eyes of Meg Kissock, and Meg's +friendship was decidedly worth cultivating. Even for its own sake +she did not give it lightly. + +Before Winsome Charteris could release her hand, Ralph turned and +said: + +"Do you know you have not yet told me your name?" + +Winsome did know it very well, but she only said, "My name is +Winsome Charteris, and this is Meg Kissock." + +"Winsome Charteris, Winsome Charteris," said Ralph's heart over +and over again, and he had not even the grace to say "Thank you"; +but Meg stepped up to shake him by the hand. + +"I'm braw an' prood to ken ye, sir," said Meg. "That muckle sumph +[stupid], Saunders Mowdiewort, telled me a' aboot ye comin' an' +the terrible store o' lear [learning] ye hae. He's the minister's +man, ye ken, an' howks the graves ower by at the parish kirk-yard, +for the auld betheral there winna gang ablow three fit deep, and +them that haes ill-tongued wives to haud doon disna want ony +mistake--" + +"Meg," said her mistress, "do not forget yourself." + +"Deil a fear," said Meg; "it was auld Sim o' Glower-ower-'em, the +wizened auld hurcheon [hedgehog], that set a big thruch stane ower +his first wife; and when he buried his second in the neist grave, +he just turned the broad flat stone. 'Guid be thankit!' he says, +'I had the forethocth to order a stane heavy eneuch to hand them +baith doon!'" + +"Get to the washing, Meg," said Winsome. + +"Fegs!" returned Meg, "ye waur in nae great hurry yersel' doon aff +the broomy knowe! What's a' the steer sae sudden like?" + +Winsome disdained an answer, but stood to her own tub, where some +of the lighter articles--pillow-slips, and fair sheets of +"seventeen-hundred" linen were waiting her daintier hand. + +As Winsome and Meg washed, Ralph Peden carried water, learning the +wondrous science of carrying two cans over a wooden hoop; and in +the frankest tutelage Winsome put her hand over his to teach him, +and the relation of master and pupil asserted its ancient danger. + +It had not happened to Winsome Charteris to meet any one to whom +she was attracted with such frank liking. She had never known what +it was to have a brother, and she thought that this clear-eyed +young man might be a brother to her. It is a fallacy common among +girls that young men desire them as sisters. Ralph himself was +under no such illusion, or at least would not have been, had he +had the firmness of mind to sit down half a mile from his emotions +and coolly look them over. But in the meanwhile he was only +conscious of a great and rising delight in his heart. + +As Winsome Charteris bent above the wash-tub he was at liberty to +observe how the blood mantled on the clear oval of her cheek. He +had time to note--of course entirely as a philosopher--the pale +purple shadow under the eyes, over which the dark, curling lashes +came down like the fringe of the curtain of night. + +"Why--I wonder why?" he said, and stopped aghast at his utterance +aloud of his inmost thought. + +"What do you wonder?" said Winsome, glancing up with a frank dewy +freshness in her eyes. + +"I wonder why--I wonder that you are able to do all this work," he +said, with an attempt to turn the corner of his blunder. + +Winsome shook her head. + +"Now you are trying to be like other people," she said; "I do not +think you will succeed. That was not what you were going to say. +If you are to be my friend, you must speak all the truth to me and +speak it always." A thing which, indeed, no man does to a woman. +And, besides, nobody had spoken of Ralph Peden being a friend to +her. The meaning was that their hearts had been talking while +their tongues had spoken of other things; and though there was no +thought of love in the breast of Winsome Charteris, already in the +intercourse of a single morning she had given this young Edinburgh +student of divinity a place which no other had ever attained to. +Had she had a brother, she thought, what would he not have been to +her? She felt specially fitted to have a brother. It did not occur +to her to ask whether she would have carried her brother's college +note-book, even by accident, where it could be stirred by the +beating of her heart. + +"Well," Ralph said at last, "I will tell you what I was wondering. +You have asked me, and you shall know: I only wondered why your +eyelashes were so much darker than your hair." + +Winsome Charteris was not in the least disturbed. + +"Ministers should occupy their minds with something else," she +said, demurely. "What would Mr. Welsh say? I am sure he has never +troubled his head about such things. It is not fitting," Winsome +said severely. + +"But I want to know," said this persistent young man, wondering at +himself. + +"Well," said Winsome, glancing up with mischief in her eye, "I +suppose because I am a very lazy sort of person, and dark window- +blinds keep out the light." + +"But why are they curled up at the end?" asked unblushingly the +author of the remarks upon Eve formerly quoted. + +"It is time that you went up and saw my grandmother!" said +Winsome, with great composure. + +"Juist what I was on the point o' remarkin' mysel'!" said Meg +Kissock. + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +CONCERNING TAKING EXERCISE. + + +Winsome and Ralph walked silently and composedly side by side up +the loaning under the elder-trees, over the brook at the watering- +place to which in her hoydenish girlhood Winsome had often ridden +the horses when the ploughmen loosed Bell and Jess from the +plough. In these days she rode without a side-saddle. Sometimes +she did it yet when the spring gloamings were gathering fast, but +no one knew this except Jock Forrest, the ploughman, who never +told any more than he could help. + +Silence deep as that of yesterday wrapped about the farmhouse of +Craig Ronald. The hens were all down under the lee of the great +orchard hedge, chuckling low to themselves, and nestling with +their feathers spread balloon-wise, while they flirted the hot +summer dust over them. Down where the grass was in shadow a mower +was sharpening his blade. The clear metallic sound of the "strake" +or sharpening strop, covered with pure white Loch Skerrow sand set +in grease, which scythemen universally use in Galloway, cut +through the slumberous hum of the noonday air like the blade +itself through the grass. The bees in the purple flowers beneath +the window boomed a mellow bass, and the grasshoppers made love by +millions in the couch grass, chirring in a thousand fleeting +raptures. + +"Wait here while I go in," commanded Winsome, indicating a chair +in the cool, blue-flagged kitchen, which Meg Kissock had marked +out in white, with whorls and crosses of immemorial antiquity--the +same that her Pictish forefathers had cut deep in the hard +Silurian rocks of the southern uplands. + +It was a little while before, in the dusk of the doorway Winsome +appeared, looking paler and fairer and more infinitely removed +from him than before. Instinctively he wished himself out with her +again on the broomy knowe. He seemed somehow nearer to her there. +Yet he followed obediently enough. + +Within the shadowed "ben"-room of Craig Ronald all the morning +this oddly assorted pair of old people had been sitting--as indeed +every morning they sat, one busily reading and often looking up to +talk; while the other, the master of the house himself, sat +silent, a majestic and altogether pathetic figure, looking +solemnly out with wide-open, dreamy eyes, waking to the actual +world of speech and purposeful life only at rare intervals. + +But Walter Skirving was keenly awake when Ralph Peden entered. It +was in fact he, and not his partner, who spoke first--for Walter +Skirving's wife had among other things learned when to be silent-- +which was, when she must. + +"You honour my hoose," he said; "though it grieves me indeed that +I canna rise to receive yin o' your family an' name! But what I +have is at your service, for it was your noble faither that led +the faithful into the wilderness on the day o' the Great +Apostasy!" + +The young man shook him by the hand. He had no bashfulness here. +He was on his own ground. This was the very accent of the society +in which he moved in Edinburgh. + +"I thank you," he said, quietly and courteously, stepping back at +once into the student of divinity; "I have often heard my father +speak of you. You were the elder from the south who stood by him +on that day. He has ever retained a great respect for you." + +"It WAS a great day," Walter Skirving muttered, letting his arm +rest on the little square deal table which stood beside him with +his great Bible open upon it--"a great day--aye, Maister Peden's +laddie i' my hoose! He's welcome, he's mair nor welcome." + +So saying, he turned his eyes once more on the blue mist that +filled the wide Grannoch Valley, and the bees hummed again in the +honey-scented marshmallows so that all heard them. + +"This is my grandmother," said Winsome, who stood quite quiet +behind her chair, swinging the sunbonnet in her hand. From her +flower-set corner the old lady held out her band. With a touch of +his father's old-fashioned courtesy he stooped and kissed it. +Winsome instinctively put her hand quickly behind her as though he +had kissed that. Once such practices have a beginning, who knows +where they may end? She had not expected it of him, though, +curiously, she thought no worse of him for his gallantry. + +But the lady of Craig Ronald was obviously greatly pleased. + +"The lad has guid bluid in him. That's the minnie [mother] o' him, +nae doot. She was a Gilchrist o' Linwood on Nithsdale. What she +saw in your faither to tak' him I dinna ken ony mair than I ken +hoo it cam' to pass that I am the mistress o' Walter Skirving's +hoose the day.--Come oot ahint my chair, lassie; dinna be lauchin' +ahint folks's backs. D'ye think I'm no mistress o' my ain hoose +yet, for a' that ye are sic a grand hoosekeeper wi' your way o't." + +The accusation was wholly gratuitous. Winsome had been grave with +a great gravity. But she came obediently out, and seated herself +on a low stool by her grandmother's side. There she sat, holding +her hand, and leaning her elbow on her knee. Ralph thought he had +never seen anything so lovely in his life--an observation entirely +correct. The old lady was clad in a dress of some dark stiff +material, softer than brocade, which, like herself, was more +beautiful in its age than even in youth. Folds of snowy lawn +covered her breast and fell softly about her neck, fastened there +by a plain black pin. Her face was like a portrait by Henry +Raeburn, so beautifully venerable and sweet. The twinkle in her +brown eyes alone told of the forceful and restless spirit which +was imprisoned within. She had been reading a new volume of the +Great Unknown which the Lady Elizabeth had sent her over from the +Big House of Greatorix. She had laid it down on the entry of the +young man. Now she turned sharp upon him. + +"Let me look at ye, Maister Ralph Peden. Whaur gat ye the 'Ralph'? +That's nae westland Whig name. Aye, aye, I mind--what's comin' o' +my memory? Yer grandfaither was auld Ralph Gilchrist; but ye dinna +tak' after the Gilchrists--na, na, there was no ane o' them weel +faured--muckle moo'd [large-mouthed] Gilchrists they ca'ed them. +It'll be your faither that you favour." + +And she turned him about for inspection with her hand. + +"Grandmother--" began Winsome, anxious lest she should say +something to offend the guest of the house. But the lady did not +heed her gentle monition. + +"Was't you that ran awa' frae a bonny lass yestreen?" she queried, +sudden as a flash of summer lightning. + +It was now the turn of both the younger folk to blush. Winsome +reddened with vexation at the thought that he should think that +she had seen him run and gone about telling of it. Ralph grew +redder and redder, and remained speechless. He did not think of +anything at all. + +"I am fond of exercise," he said falteringly. + +The gay old lady rippled into a delicious silver stream of +laughter, a little thin, but charmingly provocative. Winsome did +not join, but she looked up imploringly at her grandmother, +leaning her head back till her tresses swept the ground. + +When Mistress Skirving recovered herself, + +"Exerceese, quo' he, heard ye ever the like o' that? In their +young days lads o' speerit took their exerceese in comin' to see a +bonny lass--juist as I was sayin' to Winifred yestreen nae faurer +gane. Hoot awa', twa young folk! The simmer days are no lang. Waes +me, but I had my share o' them! Tak' them while they shine, +bankside an' burnside an' the bonny heather. Aince they bloomed +for Ailie Gordon. Once she gaed hand in hand alang the braes, +where noo she'll gang nae mair. Awa' wi' ye, ye're young an' +honest. Twa auld cankered carles are no fit company for twa young +folks like you. Awa' wi' ye; dinna be strange wi' his mither's +bairn, say I--an' the guid man hae's spoken for the daddy o' him." + +Thus was Ralph Peden made free of the Big Hoose of Craig Ronald. + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE MINISTER'S MAN ARMS EOR CONQUEST. + + +Saunders Mowdiewort, minister's man and grave-digger, was going a +sweethearting. He took off slowly the leathern "breeks" of his +craft, sloughing them as an adder casts his skin. They collapsed +upon the floor with a hideous suggestion of distorted human limbs, +as Saunders went about his further preparations. Saunders was a +great, soft-bodied, fair man, of the chuby flaxen type so rare in +Scotland--the type which looks at home nowhere but along the south +coast of England. Saunders was about thirty-five. He was a widower +in search of a wife, and made no secret of his devotion to +Margaret Kissock, the "lass" of the farm town of Craig Ronald. + +Saunders was slow of speech when in company, and bashful to a +degree. He was accustomed to make up his mind what he would say +before venturing within the range of the sharp tongue of his well- +beloved--an excellent plan, but one which requires for success +both self-possession and a good memory. But for lack of these +Saunders had made an excellent courtier. + +Saunders made his toilet in the little stable of the manse above +which he slept. As he scrubbed himself he kept up a constant +sibilant hissing, as though he were an equine of doubtful +steadiness with whom the hostler behooved to be careful. First he +carefully removed the dirt down to a kind of Plimsoll load-line +midway his neck; then he frothed the soap-suds into his red +rectangular ears, which stood out like speaking trumpets; there he +let it remain. Soap is for putting on the face, grease on the +hair. It is folly then to wash either off. Besides being wasteful. +His flaxen hair stood out in wet strands and clammy tags and +tails. All the while Saunders kept muttering to himself: + +"An' says I to her: 'Meg Kissock, ye're a bonny woman,' says I. +'My certie, but ye hae e'en like spunkies [will-o'-the-wisps] or +maybes," said Saunders in a meditative tone. "I had better say +'like whurlies in a sky-licht.' It micht be considered mair lovin' +like!" + +"Then she'll up an' say: 'Saunders, ye mak' me fair ashamed to +listen to ye. Be mensefu' [polite], can ye no?'" + +This pleased Saunders so much that he slapped his thigh so that +the pony started and clattered to the other side of his stall. + +"Then I'll up an' tak' her roun' the waist, an' I'll look at her +like this--" (here Saunders practised the effect of his +fascinations in the glass, a panorama which was to some extent +marred by the necessary opening of his mouth to enable the razor +he was using to excavate the bristles out of the professional +creases in his lower jaw. Saunders pulled down his mouth to +express extra grief when a five-foot grave had been ordered. His +seven-foot manifestations of respect for the deceased were a sight +to see. He held the opinion that anybody that had no more 'conceit +o' themsel'' [were so much left to themselves] than to be buried +in a three-foot grave, did not deserve to be mourned at all. This +crease, then, was one of Saunders's assets, and had therefore to +be carefully attended to. Even love must not interfere with it.) + +"Sae after that, I shall tak' her roun' the waist, juist like +this--" said he, insinuating his left arm circumferentially. It +was an ill-judged movement, for, instead of circling Meg Kissock's +waist, he extended his arm round the off hindleg of Birsie, the +minister's pony, who had become a trifle short tempered in his old +age. Now it was upon that very leg and at that very place that, +earlier in the day, a large buzzing horse-fly had temporarily +settled. Birsie was in no condition, therefore, for argument upon +the subject. So with the greatest readiness he struck straight out +behind and took Saunders what he himself called a "dinnle on the +elbuck." Nor was this all, for the razor suddenly levered upwards +by Birsie's hoof added another and entirely unprofessional wrinkle +to his face. + +Saunders uprose in wrath, for the soap was stinging furiously in +the cut, and expostulated with Birsie with a handful of reins +which he lifted off the lid of the corn-chest. + +"Ye ill-natured, thrawn, upsettin' blastie, ye donnart auld +deevil!" he cried. + +"Alexander Mowdiewort, gin ye desire to use minced oaths and braid +oaths indiscriminately, ye shall not use them in my stable. Though +ye be but a mere Erastian and uncertain in yer kirk membership, ye +are at least an occasional hearer, whilk is better than naething, +at the kirk o' the Marrow; and what is more to the point, ye are +my own hired servant, and I desire that ye cease from makin' use +o' any such expressions upon my premises." + +"Weel, minister," said Saunders, penitently, "I ken brawly I'm i' +the wrang; but ye ken yersel', gin ye had gotten a dinnle i' the +elbuck that garred ye loup like a troot i' Luckie Mowatt's pool, +or gin ye had cuttit yersel' wi' yer ain razor, wad 'Effectual +Callin',' think ye, hae been the first word i' yer mooth? Noo, +minister, fair Hornie!" + +"At any rate," said the minister, "what I would have said or done +is no excuse for you, as ye well know. But how did it happen?" + +"Weel, sir, ye see the way o't was this: I was thinkin' to mysel', +'There's twa or three ways o' takin' the buiks intil the pulpit-- +There's the way consequential--that's Gilbert Prettiman o' the +Kirkland's way. Did ever ye notice the body? He hauds the Bibles +afore him as if he war Moses an' Aaron gaun afore Pharaoh, wi' the +coat-taillies o' him fleein' oot ahint, an' his chin pointin' to +the soon'in'-board o' the pulpit." + +"Speak respectfully of the patriarchs," said Mr. Welsh +sententiously. Saunders looked at him with some wonder expressed +in his eyes. + +"Far be it frae me," he said, "to speak lichtly o' ony ane o' them +(though, to tell the truth, some o' them war gye boys). I hae been +ower lang connectit wi' them, for I hae carriet the buiks for +fifteen year, ever since my faither racket himsel' howkin' the +grave o' yer predecessor, honest man, an' I hae leeved a' my days +juist ower the wa' frae the kirk." + +"But then they say, Saunders," said the minister, smilingly, "'the +nearer the kirk the farther frae grace.'" + +"'Deed, minister," said Saunders, "Grace Kissock is a nice bit +lassie, but an' Jess will be no that ill in a year or twa, but o' +a' the Kissocks commend me till Meg. She wad mak' a graund wife. +What think ye, minister?" + +Mr. Welsh relaxed his habitual severe sadness of expression and +laughed a little. He was accustomed to the sudden jumps which his +man's conversation was wont to take. + +"Nay," he said, "but that is a question for you, Saunders. It is +not I that think of marrying her." + +"The Lord be thankit for that! for gin the minister gaed speerin', +what chance wad there be for the betheral?" + +"Have you spoken to Meg herself yet?" asked Mr. Welsh. + +"Na," said Saunders; "I haena that, though I hae made up my mind +to hae it oot wi' her this verra nicht--if sae it micht be that ye +warna needin' me, that is--" he added, doubtfully, "but I hae guid +reason to hope that Meg--" + +"What reason have you, Saunders? Has Margaret expressed a +preference for you in any way?" + +"Preference!" said Saunders; "'deed she has that, minister; a +maist marked preference. It was only the last Tuesday afore +Whussanday [Whitsunday] that she gied me a clour [knock] i' the +lug that fair dang me stupid. Caa that ye nocht?" + +"Well, Saunders," said the minister, going out, "certainly I wish +you good speed in your wooing; but see that you fall no more out +with Birsie, lest you be more bruised than you are now; and for +the rest, learn wisely to restrain your unruly member." + +"Thank ye, minister," said Saunders; "I'll do my best endeavours +to obleege ye. Meg's clours are to be borne wi' a' complaisancy, +but Birsie's dunts are, so to speak, gratuitous!" + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE ADVENT OF THE CUIF. + + +"Here's the Cuif!" said Meg Kissock, who with her company gown on, +and her face glowing from a brisk wash, sat knitting a stocking in +the rich gloaming light at the gable end of the house of Craig +Ronald. Winsome usually read a book, sitting by the window which +looked up the long green croft to the fir-woods and down to the +quiet levels of Loch Grannoch, on which the evening mist was +gathering a pale translucent blue. It was a common thing for Meg +and Jessie Kissock to bring their knitting and darning there, and +on their milking-stools sit below the window. If Winsome were in a +mood for talk she did not read much, but listened instead to the +brisk chatter of the maids. Sometimes the ploughmen, Jock Forrest +and Ebie Farrish, came to "ca' the crack," and it was Winsome's +delight on these occasions to listen to the flashing claymore of +Meg Kissock's rustic wit. Before she settled down, Meg had taken +in the three tall candles "ben the hoose," where the old people +sat--Walter Skirving, as ever, silent and far away, his wife deep +in some lively book lent her by the Lady Elizabeth out of the +library of Greatorix Castle. + +A bank of wild thyme lay just beneath Winsome's window, and over +it the cows were feeding, blowing softly through their nostrils +among the grass and clover till the air was fragrant with their +balmy breath. + +"Guid e'en to ye, 'Cuif,'" cried Meg Kissock as soon as Saunders +Mowdiewort came within earshot. He came stolidly forward tramping +through the bog with his boots newly greased with what remained of +the smooth candle "dowp" with which he had sleeked his flaxen +locks. He wore a broad blue Kilmarnock bonnet, checked red and +white in a "dam-brod" [draught-board] pattern round the edge, and +a blue-buttoned coat with broad pearl buttons. It may be well to +explain that there is a latent meaning, apparent only to Galloway +folk of the ancient time, in the word "cuif." It conveys at once +the ideas of inefficiency and folly, of simplicity and the +ignorance of it. The cuif is a feckless person of the male sex, +who is a recognized butt for a whole neighbourhood to sharpen its +wits upon. + +The particular cuif so addressed by Meg came slowly over the +knoll. + +"Guid e'en to ye," he said, with his best visiting manners. + +"Can ye no see me as weel, Saunders?" said Jess, archly, for all +was grist that came to her mill. + +Saunders rose like a trout to the fly. + +"Ow aye, Jess, lass, I saw ye brawly, but it disna do to come +seekin' twa lasses at ae time."' + +"Dinna ye be thinkin' to put awa' Meg, an' then come coortin' me!" +said Jess, sharply. + +Saunders was hurt for the moment at this pointed allusion both to +his profession and also to his condition as a "seekin'" widower. + +"Wha seeks you, Jess, 'ill be sair ill-aff!" he replied very +briskly for a cuif. + +The sound of Meg's voice in round altercation with Jock Gordon, +the privileged "natural" or innocent fool of the parish, +interrupted this interchange of amenities, which was indeed as +friendly and as much looked for between lads and lasses as the +ordinary greeting of "Weel, hoo's a' wi' ye the nicht?" which +began every conversation between responsible folks. + +"Jock Gordon, ye lazy ne'er-do-weel, ye hinna carried in a single +peat, an' it comin' on for parritch-time. D'ye think my maister +can let the like o' you sorn on him, week in, week oot, like a +mawk on a sheep's hurdie? Gae wa' oot o' that, lyin' sumphin' +[sulking] an' sleepin' i' the middle o' the forenicht, an' carry +the water for the boiler an' bring in the peats frae the stack." + +Then there arose a strange elricht quavering voice--the voice of +those to whom has not been granted their due share of wits. Jock +Gordon was famed all over the country for his shrewd replies to +those who set their wits in contest with his. Jock is remembered +on all Deeside, and even to Nithsdale. He was a man well on in +years at this time, certainly not less than forty-five. But on his +face there was no wrinkle set, not a fleck of gray upon his +bonnetless fox-red shock of hair, weather-rusted and usually stuck +full of feathers and short pieces of hay. Jock Gordon was +permitted to wander as a privileged visitor through the length and +breadth of the south hill country. He paid long visits to Craig +Ronald, where he had a great admiration and reverence for the +young mistress, and a hearty detestation for Meg Kissock, who, as +he at all times asserted, "was the warst maister to serve atween +the Cairnsmuirs." + +"Richt weel I'll do yer biddin', Meg Kissock," he answered in his +shrill falsetto, "but no for your sake or the sake o' ony +belangin' to you. But there's yae bonny doo [dove], wi' her hair +like gowd, an' a fit that she micht set on Jock Gordon's neck, an' +it wad please him weel. An' said she, 'Do the wark Meg Kissock +bids ye,' so Jock Gordon, Lord o' Kelton Hill an' Earl o' +Clairbrand, will perform a' yer wull. Otherwise it's no in any +dochter o' Hurkle-backit [bent-backed] Kissock to gar Jock Gordon +move haund or fit." + +So saying, Jock clattered away with his water-pails, muttering to +himself. + +Meg Kissock came out again to sit down on her milking-stool under +the westward window, within which was Winsome Charteris, reading +her book unseen by the last glow of the red west. + +Jess and Saunders Mowdiewort had fallen silent. Jess had said her +say, and did not intend to exert herself to entertain her sister's +admirer. Jess was said to look not unkindly on Ebie Farrish, the +younger ploughman who had recently come to Craig Ronald from one +of the farms at the "laigh" end of the parish. Ebie had also, it +was said, with better authority, a hanging eye to Jess, who had +the greater reason to be kind to him, that he was the first since +her return from England who had escaped the more BRAVURA +attractions of her sister. + +"Can ye no find a seat guid eneuch to sit doon on, cuif?" inquired +Meg with quite as polite an intention as though she had said, "Be +so kind as to take a seat." The cuif, who had been uneasily +balancing himself first on one foot and then on the other, and +apologetically passing his hand over the sleek side of his head +which was not covered by the bonnet, replied gratefully: + +"'Deed I wull that, Meg, since ye are sae pressin'." + +He went to the end of the milk-house, selected a small tub used +for washing the dishes of red earthenware and other domestic small +deer, turned it upside down, and seated himself as near to Meg as +he dared. Then he tried to think what it was he had intended to +say to her, but the words somehow would not now come at call. +Before long he hitched his seat a little nearer, as though his +present position was not quite comfortable. + +But Meg checked him sharply. + +"Keep yer distance, cuif," she said; "ye smell o' the muils" +[churchyard earth]. + +"Na, na, Meg, ye ken brawly I haena been howkin' [digging] since +Setterday fortnicht, when I burriet Tarn Rogerson's wife's guid- +brither's auntie, that leeved grainin' an' deein' a' her life wi' +the rheumatics an' wame disease, an' died at the last o' eatin' +swine's cheek an' guid Cheddar cheese thegither at Sandy +Mulquharchar's pig-killin'." + +"Noo, cuif," said Meg, with an accent of warning in her voice, +"gin ye dinna let alane deevin' [deafening] us wi' yer kirkyaird +clavers, ye'll no sit lang on my byne" [tub]. + +From the end of the peat-stack, out of the dark hole made by the +excavation of last winter's stock of fuel, came the voice of Jock +Gordon, singing: + + "The deil he sat on the high lumtap, + HECH HOW, BLACK AN' REEKY! + Gang yer ways and drink yer drap, + Ye'll need it a' whan ye come to stap + IN MY HOLE SAE BLACK AN' REEKY, O! + HECH HOW, BLACK AN' REEKY! + + "Hieland kilt an' Lawland hose, + Parritch-fed an' reared on brose, + Ye'll drink nae drap whan ye come tae stap + IN MY HOLE SAE BLACK AN' REEKY, O! + HECH HOW, BLACK AN' REEKY!" + +Meg Kissock and her sweetheart stopped to listen. Saunders +Mowdiewort smiled an unprofessional smile when he heard the song +of the natural. "That's a step ayont the kirkyaird, Meg," he said. +"Gin ye hae sic objections to hear aboot honest men in their +honest graves, what say ye to that elricht craitur scraichin' +aboot the verra deil an' his hearth-stane?" + +Certainly it sounded more than a trifle uncanny in the gloaming, +coming out of that dark place where even in the daytime the black +Galloway rats cheeped and scurried, to hear the high, quavering +voice of Jock Gordon singing his unearthly rhymes. + +By-and-bye those at the house gable could see that the innocent +had climbed to the top of the peat-stack in some elvish freak, and +sat there cracking his thumbs and singing with all his might: + + "HECH HOW, BLACK AN' REEKY! + IN MY HOLE SAE BLACK AN' REEKY, O!" + +"Come doon oot o' that this meenit, Jock Gordon, ye gomeral!" +cried Meg, shaking her fist at the uncouth shape twisting and +singing against the sunset sky like one demented. + +The song stopped, and Jock Gordon slowly turned his head in their +direction. All were looking towards him, except Ebie Farrish, the +new ploughman, who was wondering what Jess Kissock would do if he +put his arm around her waist. + +"What said ye?" Jock asked from his perch on the top of the peat- +stack. + +"Hae ye fetched in the peats an' the water, as I bade ye?" asked +Meg, with great asperity in her voice. "D'ye think that ye'll win +aff ony the easier in the hinnerend, by sittin' up there like yin +o' his ain bairns, takkin' the deil's name in vain?" + +"Gin ye dinna tak' tent to [care of] yersel', Meg Kissock," +retorted Jock, "wi' yer eternal yammer o' 'Peats, Jock Gordon, an' +'Water, Jock Gordon,' ye'll maybes find yersel' whaur Jock +Gordon'll no be there to serve ye; but the Ill Auld Boy'll keep ye +in routh o' peats, never ye fret, Meg Kissock, wi' that reed-heed +[red head] o' yours to set them a-lunt [on fire]. Faith an' ye may +cry 'Water! water!' till ye crack yer jaws, but nae Jock Gordon +there--na, na--nae Jock Gordon there. Jock kens better." + +But at this moment there was a prolonged rumble, and the whole +party sitting by the gable end (the "gavel," as it was locally +expressed) rose to their feet from tub and hag-clog and milking- +stool. There had been a great land-slip. The whole side of the +peat-stack had tumbled bodily into the great "black peat-hole" +from which the winter's peats had come, and which was a favourite +lair of Jock's own, being ankle-deep in fragrant dry peat "coom"-- +which is, strange to say, a perfectly clean and even a luxurious +bedding, far to be preferred as a couch to "flock" or its kindred +abominations. + +All the party ran forward to see what had become of Jock, whose +song had come to so swift a close. + +Out of the black mass of down-fallen peat there came a strange, +pleading voice. + +"O guid deil, O kind deil, dinna yirk awa' puir Jock to that ill +bit--puir Jock, that never yet did ye ony hairm, but aye wished ye +weel! Lat me aff this time, braw deil, an' I'll sing nae mair ill +gangs aboot ye!" + +"Save us!" exclaimed Meg Kissock, "the craitur's prayin' to the +Ill Body himsel'." + +Ebbie Farrish began to clear away the peat, which was, indeed, no +difficult task. As he did so, the voice of Jock Gordon mounted +higher and higher: + +"O mercy me, I hear them clawin' and skrauchelin'! Dinna let the +wee yins wi' the lang riven taes and the nebs like gleds [beaks +like kites] get haud o' me! I wad rayther hae yersel', Maister o' +Sawtan, for ye are a big mensefu' deil. Ouch! I'm dune for noo, +althegither; he haes gotten puir Jock! Sirce me, I smell the +reekit rags o' him!" + +But it was only Ebie Farrish that had him by the roll of ancient +cloth which served as a collar for Jock's coat. When he was pulled +from under the peats and set upon his feet, he gazed around with a +bewildered look. + +"O man, Ebie Farrish," he said solemnly, "If I didna think ye war +the deil himsel'--ye see what it is to be misled by ootward +appearances!" + +There was a shout of laughter at the expense of Ebie, in which Meg +thought that she heard an answering ripple from within Winsome's +room. + +"Surely, Jock, ye were never prayin' to the deil?" asked Meg from +the window, very seriously. "Ye ken far better than that." + +"An' what for should I no pray to the deil? He's a desperate +onsonsy chiel yon. It's as weel to be in wi' him as oot wi' him +ony day. Wha' kens what's afore them, or wha they may be behaudin' +to afore the morrow's morn?" answered Jock stoutly. + +"But d'ye ken," said John Scott, the theological herd, who had +quietly "daundered doon" as he said, from his cot-house up on the +hill, where his bare-legged bairns played on the heather and short +grass all day, to set his shoulder against the gable end for an +hour with the rest. + +"D'ye ken what Maister Welsh was sayin' was the new doctrine amang +thae New Licht Moderates--'hireling shepherds,' he ca'd them? Noo +I'm no on mysel' wi' sae muckle speakin' aboot the deil. But the +minister was sayin' that the New Moderates threep [assert] that +there's nae deil at a'. He dee'd some time since!" + +"Gae wa' wi' ye, John Scott! wha's gaun aboot doin' sae muckle ill +then, I wad like to ken?" said Meg Kissock. + +"Dinna tell me," said Jock Gordon, "that the puir deil's deed, and +that we'll hae to pit up wi' Ebie Farrish. Na, na, Jock's maybe +daft, but he kens better than that!" + +"They say," said John Scott, pulling meditatively at his cutty, +"that the pooer is vested noo in a kind o' comy-tee [committee]!" + +"I dinna haud wi' comy-tees mysel'," replied Meg; "it's juist +haein' mony maisters, ilka yin mair cankersome and thrawn than +anither!" + +"Weel, gin this news be true, there's a heep o' fowk in this +parish should be mentioned in his wull," said Jock Gordon, +significantly. "They're near kin till him--forby a heep o' bairns +that he has i' the laich-side o' the loch. They're that hard +there, they'll no gie a puir body a meal o' meat or the shelter o' +a barn." + +"But," said Ebie Farrish, who had been thinking that, after all, +the new plan might have its conveniences, "gin there's nae deil to +tempt, there'll be nae deil to punish." + +But the herd was a staunch Marrow man. He was not led away by any +human criticism, nor yet by the new theology. + +"New Licht here, New Licht there," he said; "I canna' pairt wi' ma +deil. Na, na, that's ower muckle to expect o' a man o' my age!" + +Having thus defined his theological position, without a word more +he threw his soft checked plaid of Galloway wool over his +shoulders, and fell into the herd's long swinging heather step, +mounting the steep brae up to his cot on the hillside as easily as +if he were walking along a level road. + +There was a long silence; then a ringing sound, sudden and sharp, +and Ebie Farrish fell inexplicably from the axe-chipped hag-clog, +which he had rolled up to sit upon. Ebie had been wondering for +more than an hour what would happen if he put his arm round Jess +Kissock's waist. He knew now. + +Then, after a little Saunders Mowdiewort, who was not unmindful of +his prearranged programme nor yet oblivious of the flight of time, +saw the stars come out, he knew that if he were to make any +progress, he must make haste; so he leaned over towards his +sweetheart and whispered, "Meg, my lass, ye're terrible bonny." + +"D'ye think ye are the first man that has telled me that, cuif?" +said Meg, with point and emphasis. + +Jock Forrest, the senior ploughman--a very quiet, sedate man with +a seldom stirred but pretty wit, laughed a short laugh, as though +he knew something about that. Again there was a silence, and as +the night wind began to draw southward in cool gulps of air off +the hills, Winsome Charteris's window was softly closed. + +"Hae ye nocht better than that to tell us, cuif?" said Meg, +briskly, "nocht fresh-like?" + +"Weel," said Saunders Mowdiewort, groping round for a subject of +general interest, his profession and his affection being alike +debarred, "there's that young Enbra' lad that's come till the +manse. He's a queer root, him." + +"What's queer aboot him?" asked Meg, in a semi-belligerent manner. +A young man who had burned his fingers for her mistress's sake +must not be lightly spoken of. + +"Oh, nocht to his discredit ava, only Manse Bell heard him arguin' +wi' the minister aboot the weemen-folk the day that he cam'. He +canna' bide them, she says." + +"He has but puir taste," said Ebie Farrish; "a snod bit lass is +the bonniest work o' Natur'. Noo for mysel'--" + +"D'ye want anither?" asked Jess, without apparent connection. + +"He'll maybe mend o' that opeenion, as mony a wise man has dune +afore him," said Meg, sententiously. "Gae on, cuif; what else +aboot the young man?" + +"Oh, he's a lad o' great lear. He can read ony language back or +forrit, up or doon, as easy as suppin' sowens. He can speak +byordinar' graund. They say he'll beat the daddy o' him for +preachin' when he's leecensed. He rade Birsie this mornin' too, +after the kickin' randie had cuist me aff his back like a draff +sack." + +"Then what's queer aboot him?" said Jess. + +Meg said nothing. She felt a draft of air suck into Winsome's +room, so that she knew that the subject was of such interest that +her mistress had again opened her window. Meg leaned back so far +that she could discern a glint of yellow hair in the darkness. + +The cuif was about to light his pipe. Meg stopped him. + +"Nane o' yer lichts here, cuif," she said; "it's time ye were +thinkin' aboot gaun ower the hill. But ye haena' telled us yet +what's queer aboot the lad." + +"Weel, woman, he's aye write--writin', whiles on sheets o' paper, +and whiles on buiks." + +"There's nocht queer aboot that," says Meg; "so does ilka +minister." + +"But Manse Bell gied me ane o' his writings, that she had gotten +aboot his bedroom somewhere. She said that the wun' had blawn't +aff his table, but I misdoot her." + +"Yer ower great wi' Manse Bell an' the like o' her, for a man that +comes to see me!" said Meg, who was a very particular young woman +indeed. + +"It was cuttit intil lengths like the metre psalms, but it luikit +gye an' daft like, sae I didna' read it," said the cuif hastily. +"Here it's to ye, Meg. I was e'en gaun to licht my cutty wi't." +Something shone gray-white in Saunders's hand as he held it out to +Meg, It passed into Meg's palm, and then was seen no more. + +The session at the house end was breaking up. Jess had vanished +silently. Ebie Farrish was not. Jock Forrest had folded his tent +and stolen away. Meg and Saunders were left alone. It was his +supreme opportunity. + +He leaned over towards his sweetheart. His blue bonnet had fallen +to the ground, and there was a distinct odour of warm candle- +grease in the air. + +"Meg," he said, "yer maist amazin' bonny, an' I'm that fond o' ye +that I am faain' awa' frae my meat! O Meg, woman, I think o' ye i' +the mornin' afore the Lord's Prayer, I sair misdoot! Guid forgie +me! I find mysel' whiles wonderin' gin I'll see ye the day afore I +can gang ower in my mind the graves that's to howk, or gin +Birsie's oats are dune. O Meg, Meg, I'm that fell fond o' ye that +I gruppit that thrawn speldron Birsie's hint leg juist i' the +fervour o' thinkin' o' ye." + +"Hoo muckle hae ye i' the week?" said Meg, practically, to bring +the matter to a point. + +"A pound a week," said Saunders Mowdiewort, promptly, who though a +cuif was a business man, "an' a cottage o' three rooms wi' a +graun' view baith back an' front!" + +"Ow aye," said Meg, sardonically, "I ken yer graund view. It's o' +yer last wife's tombstane, wi' the inscriptions the length o' my +airm aboot Betty Mowdiewort an' a' her virtues, that Robert +Paterson cuttit till ye a year past in Aprile. Na, na, ye'll no +get me to leeve a' my life lookin' oot on that ilk' time I wash my +dishes. It wad mak' yin be wantin' to dee afore their time to get +sic-like. Gang an' speer [ask] Manse Bell. She's mair nor half +blind onyway, an' she's fair girnin' fain for a man, she micht +even tak' you." + +With these cruel words Meg lifted her milking-stool and vanished +within. The cuif sat for a long time on his byne lost in thought. +Then he arose, struck his flint and steel together, and stood +looking at the tinder burning till it went out, without having +remembered to put it to the pipe which he held in his other hand. +After the last sparks ran every way and flickered, he threw the +glowing red embers on the ground, kicked the pail on which he had +been sitting as solemnly as if he had been performing a duty to +the end of the yard, and then stepped stolidly into the darkness. + +The hag-clog was now left alone against the wall beneath Winsome's +window, within which there was now the light of a candle and a +waxing and waning shadow on the blind as some one went to and fro. +Then there was a sharp noise as of one clicking in the "steeple" +or brace of the front door (which opened in two halves), and then +the metallic grit of the key in the lock, for Craig Ronald was a +big house, and not a mere farm which might be left all night with +unbarred portals. + +Winsome stepped lightly to her own door, which opened without +noise. She looked out and said, in a compromise between a coaxing +whisper and a voice of soft command: + +"Meg, I want ye." + +Meg Kissock came along the passage with the healthy glow of the +night air on her cheeks, and her candle in her hand. She seemed as +if she would pause at the door, but Winsome motioned her +imperiously within. So Meg came within, and Winsome shut to the +door. Then she simply held out her hand, at which Meg gazed as +silently. + +"Meg!" said Winsome, warningly. + +A queer, faint smile passed momentarily over the face of Winsome's +handmaid, as though she had been long trying to solve some problem +and had suddenly and unexpectedly found the answer. Slowly she +lifted up her dark-green druggit skirt, and out of a pocket of +enormous size, which was swung about her waist like a captured +leviathan heaving inanimate on a ship's cable, she extracted a +sheet of crumpled paper. + +Winsome took it without a word. Her eye said "Good-night" to Meg +as plain as the minister's text. + +Meg Kissock waited till she was at the door, and then, just as she +was making her silent exit, she said: + +"Ye'll tak' as guid care o't as the ither yin ye fand. Ye can pit +them baith thegither." + +Winsome took a step towards her as if with some purpose of +indignant chastisement. But the red head and twinkling eyes of +mischief vanished, and Winsome stood with the paper in her hand. +Just as she had begun to smooth out the crinkles produced by the +hands of Manse Bell who could not read it, Saunders who would not, +and Meg Kissock who had not time to read it, the head of the last +named was once more projected into the room, looking round the +edge of the rose-papered door. + +"Ye'll mak' a braw mistress o' the manse, Mistress--Ralph-- +Peden!" she said, nodding her head after each proper name. + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE LOVE-SONG OF THE MAVIS. + + +Winsome stamped her little foot in real anger now, and crumpling +the paper in her hand she threw it indignantly on the floor. She +was about to say something to Meg, but that erratic and privileged +domestic was in her own room by this time at the top of the house, +with the door barred. + +But something like tears stood in Winsome's eyes. She was very +angry indeed. She would speak to Meg in the morning. She was +mistress of the house, and not to be treated as a child. Meg +should have her warning to leave at the term. It was ridiculous +the way that she had taken to speaking to her lately. It was clear +that she had been allowing her far too great liberties. It did not +occur to Winsome Charteris that Meg had been accustomed to tease +her in something like this manner about every man under forty who +had come to Craig Ronald on any pretext whatever--from young +Johnnie Dusticoat, the son of the wholesale meal-miller from +Dumfries, to Agnew Greatorix, eldest son of the Lady Elizabeth, +who came over from the castle with books for her grandmother +rather oftener than might be absolutely necessary, and who, though +a papist, had waited for Winsome three Sabbath days at the door of +the Marrow kirk, a building which he had never previously entered +during his life. + +Winsome went indignant to bed. It was altogether too aggravating +that Meg should take on so, she said to herself. + +"Of course I do not care a button," she said as she turned her hot +cheek upon the pillow and looked towards the pale gray-blue of the +window-panes, in which there was already the promise of the +morning; though yet it was hardly midnight of the short midsummer +of the north. + +"It would be too ridiculous to suppose that I should care for +anybody whom I have only seen twice. Why, it was more than a year +before I really cared for dear old grannie! Meg might know better, +and it is very silly of her to say things like that. I shall send +back his book and paper to-morrow morning by Andrew Kissock when +he goes to school." Still even after this resolution she lay +sleepless. + +"Now I will go to sleep," said Winsome, resolutely shutting her +eyes. "I will not think about him any more." Which was assuredly a +noble and fitting resolve. But Winsome had yet to discover in +restless nights and troubled morrows that sleep and thought are +two gifts of God which do not come or go at man's bidding. In her +silent chamber there seemed to be a kind of hushed yet palpable +life. It seemed to Winsome as if there were about her a thousand +little whispering voices. Unseen presences flitted everywhere. She +could hear them laughing such wicked, mocking laughs. They were +clustering round the crumpled piece of paper in the corner. Well, +it might lie there forever for her. + +"I would not read it even if it were light. I shall send it back +to him to-morrow without reading it. Very likely it is a Greek +exercise, at any rate." + +Yet, for all these brave sayings, neither sleep nor dawn had come, +when, clad in shadowy white and the more manifest golden glimmer +of her hair, she glided to the windowseat, and drawing a great +knitted shawl about her, she sat, a slender figure enveloped from +head to foot in sheeny white. The shawl imprisoned the pillow +tossed masses of her rippling hair, throwing them forward about +her face, which, in the half light, seemed to be encircled with an +aureole of pale Florentine gold. + +In her hand Winsome held Ralph Peden's poem, and in spite of her +determination not to read it, she sat waiting till the dawn should +come. It might be something of great importance. It might only be +a Greek exercise. It was, at all events, necessary to find out, in +order that she might send it back. + +It was a marvellous dawning, this one that Winsome waited for. +Dawn is the secret of the universe. It thrills us somehow with a +far-off prophecy of that eternal dawning when the God That Is +shall reveal himself--the dawning which shall brighten into the +more perfect day. + +It was just the slack water--the water-shed of the night. So clear +it was this June night that the lingering gold behind the western +ridge of the Orchar Hill, where the sun went down, was neither +brighter nor yet darker than the faint tinge of lucent green, like +the colour of the inner curve of the sea-wave just as it bends to +break, which had begun to glow behind the fir woods to the east. + +The birds were waking sleepily. Chaffinches began their clear, +short, natural bursts of song. "CHURR!" said the last barn owl as +he betook himself to bed. The first rook sailed slowly overhead +from Hensol wood. He was seeking the early worm. The green lake in +the east was spreading and taking a roseate tinge just where it +touched the pines on the rugged hillside. + +Beneath Winsome's window a blackbird hopped down upon the grass +and took a tentative dab or two at the first slug he came across; +but it was really too early for breakfast for a good hour yet, so +he flew up again into a bush and preened his feathers, which had +been discomposed by the limited accommodation of the night. Now he +was on the topmost twig, and Winsome saw him against the crimson +pool which was fast deepening in the east. + +Suddenly his mellow pipe fluted out over the grove. Winsome +listened as she had never listened before. Why had it become so +strangely sweet to listen to the simple sounds? Why did the rich +Tyrian dye of the dawn touch her cheek and flush the flowering +floss of her silken hair? A thrush from the single laurel at the +gate told her: + + "There--there--there--" he sang, + "Can't you see, can't you see, can't you see it? + Love is the secret, the secret! + Could you but know it, did you but show it! + Hear me! hear me! hear me! + Down in the forest I loved her! + Sweet, sweet, sweet! + Would you but listen, + I would love you! + All is sweet and pure and good! + Twilight and morning dew, + I love it, I love it, + Do you, do you, do you?" + +This was the thrush's love-song. Now it was light enough for +Winsome to read hers by the red light of the midsummer's dawn. +This was Ralph's Greek exercise: + + "Sweet mouth, red lips, broad unwrinkled brow, + Sworn troth, woven hands, holy marriage vow, + Unto us make answer, what is wanting now? + Love, love, love, the whiteness of the snow; + Love, love, love, and the days of long ago. + + "Broad lands, bright sun, as it was of old; + Red wine, loud mirth, gleaming of the gold; + Something yet a-wanting--how shall it be told? + Love, love, love, the whiteness of the snow; + Love, love, love, and the days of long ago. + + "Large heart, true love, service void of sound, + Life-trust, death-trust, here on Scottish ground, + As in olden story, surely I have found-- + Love, love, love, the whiteness of the snow, + Love, love, love, and the days of long ago." + +The thrush had ceased singing while Winsome read. It was another +voice which she heard--the first authentic call of the springtime +for her. It coursed through her blood. It quickened her pulse. It +enlarged the pupil of her eye till the clear germander blue of the +iris grew moist and dark. It was a song for her heart, and hers +alone. She felt it, though no more than a leaf blown to her by +chance winds. It might have been written for any other, only she +knew that it was not. Ralph Peden had said nothing. The poem +certainly did not suggest a student of divinity in the Kirk of the +Marrow. There were a thousand objections--a thousand reasons-- +every one valid, against such a thing. But love that laughs at +locksmiths is equally contemptuous of logic. It was hers, hers, +and hers alone. A breath from Love's wing as he passed came again +to Winsome. The blackbird was silent, but a thrush this time broke +in with his jubilant love-song, while Winsome, with her love-song +laid against a dewy cheek, paused to listen with a beating heart +and a new comprehension: + + "Hear! hear! hear! + Dear! dear! dear! + Far away, far away, far away, + I saw him pass this way, + Tirrieoo, tirrieoo! so tender and true, + Chippiwee, chippiwee, oh, try him and see! + Cheer up! cheer up! cheer up! + He'll come and he'll kiss you, + He'll kiss you and kiss you, + And I'll see him do it, do it, do it!" + +"Go away, you wicked bird!" said Winsome, when the master singer +in speckled grey came to this part of his song. So saying, she +threw, with such exact aim that it went in an entirely opposite +direction, a quaint, pink seashell at the bird, a shell which had +been given her by a lad who was going away again to sea three +years ago. She was glad now, when she thought of it, that she had +kissed him because he had no mother, for he never came back any +more. + +"Keck, keck!" said the mavis indignantly, and went away. + +Then Winsome lay down on her white bed well content, and pillowed +her cheek on a crumpled piece of paper. + + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +ANDREW KISSOCK GOES TO SCHOOL. + + +Love is, at least in maidens' hearts, of the nature of an +intermittent fever. The tide of Solway flows, but the more rapid +his flow the swifter his ebb. The higher it brings the wrack up +the beach, the deeper, six hours after, are laid bare the roots of +the seaweed upon the shingle. Now Winsome Charteris, however her +heart might conspire against her peace, was not at all the girl to +be won before she was asked. Also there was that delicious spirit +of contrariness that makes a woman even when won, by no means seem +won. + +Besides, in the broad daylight of common day she was less attuned +and touched to earnest issues than in the red dawn. She had even +taken the poem and the exercise book out of the sacred enclosure, +where they had been hid so long. She did not really know that she +could make good any claim to either. Indeed, she was well aware +that to one of them at least she had no claim whatever. Therefore +she had placed both the note-book and the poem within the same +band as her precious housekeeping account-book, which she +reverenced next her Bible--which very practical proceeding pleased +her, and quite showed that she was above all foolish sentiment. +Then she went to churn for an hour and a half, pouring in a little +hot water critically from time to time in order to make the butter +come. This exercise may be recommended as an admirable corrective +to foolish flights of imagination. There is something concrete +about butter-making which counteracts an overplus of sentiment-- +especially when the butter will not come. And hot water may be +overdone. + +Now Winsome Charteris was a hard-hearted young woman--a fact that +may not as yet have appeared; at least so she told herself. She +had come to the conclusion that she had been foolish to think at +all of Ralph Peden, so she resolved to put him at once and +altogether out of her mind, which, as every one knows, is quite a +simple matter. Yet during the morning she went three times into +her little room to look at her housekeeping book, which by +accident lay within the same band as Ralph Peden's lost +manuscripts. First, she wanted to see how much she got for butter +at Cairn Edward the Monday before last; then to discover what the +price was on that very same day last year. It is an interesting +thing to follow the fluctuations of the produce market, especially +when you churn the butter yourself. The exact quotation of +documents is a valuable thing to learn. Nothing is so likely to +grow upon one as a habit of inaccuracy. This was what her +grandmother was always telling her, and it behooved Winsome to +improve. Each time as she strapped the documents together she +said, "And these go back to-day by Andra Kissock when he goes to +school." Then she took another look, in order to assure herself +that no forgeries had been introduced within the band while she +was churning the butter. They were still quite genuine. + +Winsome went out to relieve Jess Kissock in the dairy, and as she +went she communed with herself: "It is right that I should send +them back. The verses may belong to somebody else--somebody in +Edinburgh--and, besides, I know them by heart." + +A good memory is a fine thing. + +The Kissocks lived in one of the Craig Ronald cot-houses. Their +father had in his time been one of the herds, and upon his death, +many years ago, Walter Skirving had allowed the widow and children +to remain in the house in which Andrew Kissock, senior, had died. +Mistress Kissock was a large-boned, soft-voiced woman, who had +supplied what dash of tenderness there was in her daughters. She +had reared them according to good traditions, but as she said, +when all her brood were talking at the same time, she alone +quietly silent: + +"The Kissocks tak' efter their faither, they're great hands to +talk--a' bena [except] An'ra'." + +Andrew was her youngest, a growing lump of a boy of twelve, who +was exceeding silent in the house. Every day Andra betook himself +to school, along the side of Loch Grannoch, by the path which +looked down on the cloud-flecked mirror of the loch. Some days he +got there, but very occasionally. + +His mother had got him ready early this June morning. He had +brought in the kye for Jess. He had helped Jock Gordon to carry +water for Meg's kitchen mysteries. He had listened to a brisk +conversation proceeding from the "room" where his very capable +sister was engaged in getting the old people settled for the day. +All this was part of the ordinary routine. As soon as the whole +establishment knew that Walter Skirving was again at the window +over the marshmallows, and his wife at her latest book, a sigh of +satisfaction went up and the wheels of the day's work revolved. So +this morning it came time for Andra to go to school all too soon. +Andra did not want to stay at home from school, but it was against +the boy's principle to appear glad to go to school, so Andra made +it a point of honour to make a feint of wanting to stay every +morning. + +"Can I no bide an' help ye wi' the butter-kirnin' the day, Jess?" +said Andra, rubbing himself briskly all over as he had seen the +ploughmen do with their horses. When he got to his bare red legs +he reared and kicked out violently, calling out at the same time: + +"Wad ye then, ye tairger, tuts--stan' still there, ye kickin' +beast!" as though he were some fiery untamed from the desert. + +Jess made a dart at him with a wet towel. + +"Gang oot o' my back kitchen wi' yer nonsense!" she said. Andra +passaged like a strongly bitted charger to the back door, and +there ran away with himself, flourishing in the air a pair of very +dirty heels. Ebie Farrish was employed over a tin basin at the +stable door, making his breakfast toilet, which he always +undertook, not when he shook himself out of bed in the stable loft +at five o'clock, but before he went in to devour Jess with his +eyes and his porridge in the ordinary way. It was at this point +that Andra Kissock, that prancing Galloway barb, breaking away +from all restrictions, charged between Ebie's legs, and overset +him into his own horse-trough. The yellow soap was in Ebie's eyes, +and before he got it out the small boy was far enough away. The +most irritating thing was that from the back kitchen came peal on +peal of laughter. + +"It's surely fashionable at the sea-bathin' to tak' a dook [swim] +in the stable-trough, nae less!" + +Ebie gathered himself up savagely. His temperature was something +considerably above summer heat, yet he dared not give expression +to his feelings, for his experiences in former courtships had led +him to the conclusion that you cannot safely, having regard to +average family prejudice, abuse the brothers of your sweetheart. +After marriage the case is believed to be different. + +Winsome Charteris stood at the green gate which led out of the +court-yard into the croft, as Andra was making his schoolward +exit. She had a parcel for him. This occasioned no surprise, nor +did the very particular directions as to delivery, and the dire +threatenings against forgetfulness or failure in the least dismay +Andra. He was entirely accustomed to them. From his earliest years +he had heard nothing else. He never had been reckoned as a "sure +hand," and it was only in default of a better messenger that +Winsome employed him. Then these directions were so explicit that +there did not appear to be any possibility of mistake. He had only +to go to the manse and leave the parcel for Mr. Ralph Peden +without a message. + +So Andrew Kissock, nothing loath, promised faithfully. He never +objected to promising; that was easy. He carried the small, neatly +wrapped parcel in his hand, walking most sedately so long as +Winsome's eyes were upon him. He was not yet old enough to be +under the spell of the witchery of those eyes; but then Winsome's +eye controlled his sister Meg's hand, and for that latter organ he +had a most profound respect. + +Now we must take the trouble to follow in some detail the course +of this small boy going to school, for though it may be of no +interest in itself save as a study in scientific procrastination, +a good deal of our history directly depends upon it. + +As soon as Andrew was out of sight he pulled his leather satchel +round so that he could open it with ease, and, having taken a +handful of broken and very stale crumbs out of it for immediate +use, he dropped Winsome's parcel within. There it kept company +with a tin flask of milk which his mother filled for him every +morning, having previously scalded it well to restore its +freshness. This was specially carefully done after a sad occasion +upon which his mother, having poured in the fine milk for Andra's +dinner fresh from Crummie the cow, out of the flask mouth there +crawled a number of healthy worms which that enterprising youth +had collected from various quarters which it is best not to +specify. Not that Andra objected in the least. Milk was a good +thing, worms were good things, and he was above the paltry +superstition that one good thing could spoil another. He will +always consider to his dying day that the very sound licking which +his mother administered to him, for spoiling at once the family +breakfast and his own dinner, was one of the most uncalled-for and +gratuitous, which, even in his wide experience, it had been his +lot to recollect. + +So Andra took his way to school. He gambolled along, smelling and +rooting among the ragged robin and starwort in the hedges like an +unbroken collie. It is safe to say that no further thought of +school or message crossed his mind from the moment that the +highest white steading of Craig Ronald sank out of view, until his +compulsory return. Andra had shut out from his view so commonplace +and ignominious facts as home and school. + +At the first loaning end, where the road to the Nether Crae came +down to cross the bridge, just at the point where the Grannoch +lane leaves the narrows of the loch, Andra betook himself to the +side of the road, with a certain affectation of superabundant +secrecy. + +With prodigious exactness he examined the stones at a particular +part of the dyke, hunted about for one of remarkable size and +colour, said "Hist! hist!" in a mysterious way, and ran across the +road to see that no one was coming. + +As we have seen, Andra was the reader of the family. His eldest +brother had gone to America, where he was working in New York as a +joiner. This youth was in the habit of sending across books and +papers describing the terrible encounters with Indians in the +Boone country--the "dark and bloody land" of the early romancers. +Not one in the family looked at the insides of these relations of +marvels except Andra, who, when he read the story of the Indian +scout trailing the murderers of his squaw across a continent in +order to annihilate them just before they entered New York city, +felt that he had found his vocation--which was to be at least an +Indian scout, if indeed it was too late for him to think of being +a full-blooded Indian. + +The impressive pantomime at the bridge was in order to ascertain +whether his bosom companion, Dick Little, had passed on before +him. He knew, as soon as he was within a hundred yards of the +stone, that he had NOT passed. Indeed, he could see him at that +very moment threading his way down through the tangle of heather +and bog myrtle, or, as he would have said, "gall busses opposite." +But what of that?--For mighty is the power of make-believe, and in +Andra, repressed as he was at home, there was concentrated the +very energy and power of some imaginative ancestry. He had a full +share of the quality which ran in the family, and was exceeded +only by his brother Jock in New York, who had been "the biggest +leer in the country side" before he emigrated to a land where at +that time this quality was not specially marked among so many +wielders of the long bow. Jock, in his letters, used to frighten +his mother with dark tales of his hair-breadth escapes from +savages and desperadoes on the frontier, yet, strangely enough, +his address remained steadily New York. + +Now it is not often that a Galloway boy takes to lying; but when +he does, a mere Nithsdale man has no chance with him, still less a +man from the simple-minded levels of the "Shire."[Footnote: +Wigtonshire is invariably spoken of in Galloway as the Shire, +Kirkcudbrightshire as the Stewardry.] But Andra Kissock always +lied from the highest motives. He elevated the saying of the thing +that was not to the height of a principle. He often lied, knowing +that he would be thrashed for it--even though he was aware that he +would be rewarded for telling the truth. He lied because he would +not demean himself to tell the truth. + +It need not therefore surprise us in the least that when Dick +Little came across the bridge he was greeted by Andra Kissock with +the information that he was in the clutches of The Avenger of +Blood, who, mounted upon a mettle steed with remarkably dirty +feet, curveted across the road and held the pass. He was required +to give up a "soda scone or his life." The bold Dick, who had +caught the infection, stoutly refused to yield either. His life +was dear to him, but a soda scone considerably dearer. He had +rather be dead than hungry. + +"Then die, traitor!" said Andra, throwing down his bag, all +forgetful of Winsome Charteris's precious parcel and his promises +thereanent. So these two brave champions had at one another with +most surprising valour. + +They were armed with wooden swords as long as themselves, which +they manoeuvred with both hands in a marvellously savage manner. +When a blow did happen to get home, the dust flew out of their +jackets. But still the champions fought on. They were in the act +of finishing the quarrel by the submission of Dick in due form, +when Allan Welsh, passing across the bridge on one of his pastoral +visitations, came upon them suddenly. Dick was on his knees at the +time, his hands on the ground, and Andra was forcing his head +determinedly down toward the surface of the king's highway. +Meanwhile Dick was objecting in the most vigorous way. + +"Boys," said the stern, quiet voice of the minister, "what are you +doing to each other? Are you aware it is against both the law of +God and man to fight in this way? It is only from the beasts that +perish that we expect such conduct." + +"If ye please, sir," answered Andra in a shamefaced way, yet with +the assurance of one who knows that he has the authorities on his +side, "Dick Little wull no bite the dust." + +"Bite the dust!--what do you mean, laddie?" asked the minister, +frowning. + +"Weel sir, if ye please, sir, the Buik says that the yin that got +his licks fell down and bit the dust. Noo, Dick's doon fair +aneuch. Ye micht speak till him to bite the dust!" + +And Andra, clothed in the garments of conscious rectitude, stood +back to give the minister room to deliver his rebuke. + +The stern face of the minister relaxed. + +"Be off with you to school," he said; "I'll look in to see if you +have got there in the afternoon." + +Andra and Dick scampered down the road, snatching their satchels +as they ran. In half an hour they were making momentary music +under the avenging birch rod of Duncan Duncanson, the learned +Dullarg schoolmaster. Their explanations were excellent. Dick said +that he had been stopped to gather the eggs, and Andra that he had +been detained conversing with the minister. The result was the +same in both cases--Andra getting double for sticking to his +statement. Yet both stories were true, though quite accidentally +so, of course. This is what it is to have a bad character. Neither +boy, however, felt any ill-will whatever at the schoolmaster. They +considered that he was there in order to lick them. For this he +was paid by their parents' money, and it would have been a fraud +if he had not duly earned his money by dusting their jackets +daily. Let it be said at once that he did most conscientiously +earn his money, and seldom overlooked any of his pupils even for a +day. + +Back at the Grannoch bridge, under the parapet, Allan Welsh, the +minister of the Kirk of the Marrow, found the white packet lying +which Winsome had tied with such care. He looked all round to see +whence it had come. Then taking it in his hand, he looked at it a +long time silently, and with a strange and not unkindly expression +on his face. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the handwriting +which addressed it to Master Ralph Peden. As he paced away he +carefully put it in the inner pocket of his coat. Then, with his +head farther forward than ever, and the immanence of his great +brow overshadowing his ascetic face, he set himself slowly to +climb the brae. + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MIDSUMMER DAWN. + + +True love is at once chart and compass. It led Ralph Peden out +into a cloudy June dawning. It was soft, amorphous, uncoloured +night when he went out. Slate-coloured clouds were racing along +the tops of the hills from the south. The wind blew in fitful +gusts and veering flaws among the moorlands, making eddies and +back-waters of the air, which twirled the fallen petals of the +pear and cherry blossoms in the little manse orchard. + +As he stepped out upon the moor and the chill of dawn struck +inward, he did not know that Allan Welsh was watching him from his +blindless bedroom. Dawn is the testing-time of the universe. Its +cool, solvent atmosphere dissolves social amenities. It is +difficult to be courteous, impossible to be polite, in that hour +before the heart has realized that its easy task of throwing the +blood horizontally to brain and feet has to be exchanged for the +harder one of throwing it vertically to the extremities. + +Ralph walked slowly and in deep thought through the long avenues +of glimmering beeches and under the dry rustle of the quivering +poplars. Then, as the first red of dawn touched his face, he +looked about him. He was clear of the trees now, and the broad +open expanse of the green fields and shining water meadows that +ring in Loch Grannoch widened out before him. The winds sighed and +rumbled about the hill-tops of the Orchar and the Black Laggan, +but in the valley only the cool moist wind of dawn drew largely +and statedly to and fro. + +Ralph loved Nature instinctively, and saw it as a townbred lad +rarely does. He was deeply read in the more scientific literature +of the subject, and had spent many days in his Majesty's botanic +gardens, which lie above the broad breast of the Forth. He now +proved his learning, and with quick, sure eye made it real on the +Galloway hills. Every leaf spoke to him. He could lie for half a +day and learn wisdom from the ant. He took in the bird's song and +the moth's flight. The keepers sometimes wondered at the lights +which flashed here and there about the plantations, when in the +coolness of a moist evening he went out to entrap the sidelong- +dashing flutterers with his sugar-pots. + +But since he came to Galloway, and especially since he smelled the +smell of the wood-fire set for the blanket-washing above the Crae +Water bridge, there were new secrets open to him. He possessed a +voice that could wile a bird off a bought. His inner sympathy with +wild and tame beasts alike was such that as he moved quietly among +a drowsing, cud-chewing herd on the braes of Urioch not a beast +moved. + +Among them a wild, untamed colt stood at bay, its tail arched with +apprehension, yet sweeping the ground, and watched him with +flashing eyes of suspicion. Ralph held out his hand slowly, more +as if it were growing out of his side by some rapid natural +process than as if he were extending it. He uttered a low +"sussurrus" of coaxing and invitation, all the while imperceptibly +decreasing his distance from the colt. The animal threw back its +head, tossed its mane in act to flee, thought better of it and +dropped its nose to take a bite or two of the long coarse grass. +Then again it looked up and continued to gaze, fascinated at the +beckoning and caressing fingers. At last, with a little whinny of +pleasure, the colt, wholly reassured, came up and nestled a wet +nose against Ralph's coat. He took the wild thing's neck within +the arch of his arm, and the two new friends stood awhile in grave +converse. + +A moment afterwards Ralph bent to lay a hand upon the head of one +of the placid queys [Footnote: Young--cows.] that had watched the +courtship with full, dewy eyes of bovine unconcern. Instantly the +colt charged into the still group with a wild flourish of hoofs +and viciously snapping teeth, scattering the black-polled +Galloways like smoke. Then, as if to reproach Ralph for his +unfaithfulness, he made a circle of the field at a full, swinging +gallop, sending the short turf flying from his unshod hoofs at +every stride. Back he came again, a vision of floating mane and +streaming tail, and stopped dead three yards from Ralph, his +forelegs strained and taut, ploughing furrows in the grass. As +Ralph moved quietly across the field the colt followed, pushing a +cool moist nose over the young man's shoulder. When at last Ralph +set a foot on the projecting stone which stood out from the side +of the grey, lichen-clad stone dyke, the colt stood stretching an +eager head over as though desirous of following him; then, with a +whinny of disappointment, he rushed round the field, charging at +the vaguely wondering and listlessly grazing cattle with head +arched between his forelegs and a flourish of widely distributed +heels. + +Over the hill, Craig Ronald was still wrapped in the lucid +impermanence of earliest dawn, when Winsome Charteris set her foot +over the blue flag-stones of the threshold. The high tide of +darkness, which, in these northern summer mornings never rose very +high or lasted very long, had ebbed long ago. The indigo grey of +the sky was receding, and tinging towards the east with an +imperceptibly graded lavender which merged behind the long shaggy +outline of the piny ridge into a wash of pale lemon yellow. + +The world paused, finger on lip, saying "Hush!" to Winsome as she +stepped over the threshold from the serenely breathing morning +air, from the illimitable sky which ran farther and farther back +as the angels drew the blinds from the windows of heaven. + +"Hush!" said the cows over the hedge, blowing fragrant breaths of +approval from their wide, comma-shaped nostrils upon the lush +grass and upon the short heads of white clover, as they stood face +to the brae, all with their heads upward, eating their way like an +army on the march. + +"Hush! hush!" said the sheep who were straggling over the shorter +grass of the High Park, feeding fitfully in their short, uneasy +way--crop, crop, crop--and then a pause, to move forward their own +length and begin all over again. + +But the sheep and the kine, the dewy grass and the brightening +sky, might every one have spared their pains, for it was in no +wise in the heart of Winsome Charteris to make a noise amid the +silences of dawn. Meg Kissock, who still lay snug by Jess in a +plump-cheeked country sleep, made noise enough to stir the country +side when, rising, she set briskly about to get the house on its +morning legs. But Winsome was one of the few people in this world +--few but happy--to whom a sunrise is more precious than a sun set +--rarer and more calming, instinct with message and sign from a +covenant-keeping God. Also, Winsome betook her self early to bed, +and so awoke attuned to the sun's rising. + +What drew her forth so early this June day was no thought or hope +or plan except the desire to read the heart of Nature, and perhaps +that she might not be left too long alone with the parable of her +own heart. A girl's heart is full of thought which it dares not +express to herself--of fluttering and trembling possibilities, +chrysalis-like, set aside to await the warmth of an unrevealed +summer. In Winsome's soul the first flushing glory of the May of +youth was waking the prisoned life. But there were throbs and +thrillings too piercingly sweet to last undeveloped in her soul. +The bursting bud of her healthful beauty, quickened by the shy +radiance of her soul, shook the centres of her life, even as a +laburnum-tree mysteriously quivers when the golden rain is in act +to break from the close-clustered dependent budlets. + +Thus it was that, at the stile which helps the paths be tween the +Dullarg and Craig Ronald to overleap the high hill dyke, Ralph met +Winsome. As they looked into one another's eyes, they saw Nature +suddenly dissolve into confused meaninglessness. There was no +clear message for either of them there, save the message that the +old world of their hopes and fears had wholly passed away. Yet no +new world had come when over the hill dyke their hands met. They +said no word. There is no form of greeting for such. Eve did not +greet Adam in polite phrase when he awoke to find her in the dawn +of one Eden day, a helpmeet meet for him. Neither did Eve reply +that "it was a fine morn ing." It is always a fine morning in +Eden. They were silent, and so were these two. Their hands lay +within one another a single instant. Then, with a sense of +something wanting, Ralph sprang lightly over the dyke as an Edin +burgh High-School boy ought who had often played hares and hounds +in the Hunter's Bog, and been duly thrashed therefor by Dr. Adam +[Footnote: The Aery famous master of the High School of +Edinburgh.] on the following morning. + +When Ralph stood beside her upon the sunny side of the stile he +instinctively resumed Winsome's hand. For this he had no reason, +certainly no excuse. Still, it may be urged in excuse that it was +as much as an hour or an hour and a half before Winsome remembered +that he needed any. Our most correct and ordered thoughts have a +way of coming to us belated, as the passenger who strolls in +confidently ten minutes after the platform is clear. But, like +him, they are at least ready for the next train. + +As Winsome and Ralph turned towards the east, the sun set his face +over the great Scotch firs on the ridge, whose tops stood out like +poised irregular blots on the fire centred ocean of light. + +It was the new day, and if the new world had not come with it, of +a surety it was well on the way. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A STRING OF THE LILAC SUNBONNET. + + +For a long time they were silent, though it was not long before +Winsome drew away her hand, which, however, continued to burn +consciously for an hour afterwards. Silence settled around them. +The constraint of speech fell first upon Ralph, being town-bred +and accustomed to the convenances at Professor Thriepneuk's. + +"You rise early," he said, glancing shyly down at Winsome, who +seemed to have forgotten his presence. He did not wish her to +forget. He had no objection to her dreaming, if only she would +dream about him. + +Winsome turned the bewildering calmness of her eyes upon him. A +gentleman, they say, is calm-eyed. So is a cow. But in the eye of +a good woman there is a peace which comes from many generations of +mothers--who, every one Christs in their way, have suffered their +heavier share of the Eden curse. + +Ralph would have given all that he possessed--which, by the way, +was not a great deal--to be able to assure himself that there was +any hesitancy or bashfulness in the glance which met his own. But +Winsome's eyes were as clearly and frankly blue as if God had made +them new that morning. At least Ralph looked upon their Sabbath +peace and gave thanks, finding them very good. + +A sparkle of laughter, at first silent and far away, sprang into +them, like a breeze coming down Loch Grannoch when it lies asleep +in the sun, sending shining sparkles winking shoreward, and +causing the wavering golden lights on the shallow sand of the bays +to scatter tremulously. So in the depths of Winsome's eyes +glimmered the coming smile. Winsome could be divinely serious, but +behind there lay the possibility and certainty of very frank +earthly laughter. If, as Ralph thought, not for the first time in +this rough island story, this girl were an angel, surely she was +one to whom her Maker had given that rarest gift given to woman-- +a well-balanced sense of humour. + +So when Ralph said, hardly knowing what he said, "You rise early," +it was with that far-away intention of a smile that Winsome +replied: + +"And you, sir, have surely not lagged in bed, or else you have +come here in a great hurry." + +"I rose," returned Ralph, "certainly betimes--in fact, a great +while before day; it is the time when one can best know one's +self." + +The sententiousness, natural to his years and education, to some +extent rebuked Winsome, who said more soberly: + +"Perhaps you have again lost your books of study?" + +"I do not always study in books," answered Ralph. + +Winsome continued to look at him as though waiting his +explanation. + +"I mean," said Ralph, quickly, his pale cheek touched with red, +"that though I am town-bred I love the things that wander among +the flowers and in the wood. There are the birds, too, and the +little green plants that have no flow ers, and they all have a +message, if I could only hear it and understand it." + +The sparkle in Winsome's eyes quieted into calm. + +"I too--" she began, and paused as if startled at what she was +about to say. She went on: "I never heard any one say things like +these. I did not know that any one else had thoughts like these +except myself." + +"And have you thought these things?" said Ralph, with a quick joy +in his heart. + +"Yes," replied Winsome, looking down on the ground and playing +with the loose string of the lilac sunbonnet. "I used often to +wonder how it was that I could not look on the loch on Sabbath +morning without feeling like crying. It was often better to look +upon it than to go to Maister Welsh's kirk. But I ought not to say +these things to you," she said, with a quick thought of his +profession. + +Ralph smiled. There were few things that Winsome Charteris might +not say to him. He too had his experiences to collate. + +"Have you ever stood on a hill-top as though you were suspended in +the air, and when you seem to feel the earth whirling away from +beneath you, rushing swiftly eastward towards the sunrise?" + +"I have heard it," said Winsome unexpectedly. + +"Heard it?" queried Ralph, with doubt in his voice. + +"Yes," said Winsome calmly, "I have often heard the earth wheeling +round on still nights out on the top of the Craigs, where there +was no sound, and all the house was asleep. It is as if some Great +One were saying 'Hush!' to the angels--I think God himself!" + +These were not the opinions of the kirk of the Marrow; neither +were they expressed in the Acts Declaratory or the protests or +claims of right made by the faithful contending remnant. But Ralph +would not at that moment have hesitated to add them to the +Westminster Confession. + +It is a wonderful thing to be young. It is marvellously delightful +to be young and a poet as well, who has just fallen--nay, rather, +plunged fathoms--deep in love. Ralph Peden was both. He stood +watching Winsome Charteris, who looked past him into a distance +moistly washed with tender ultramarine ash, like her own eyes too +full of colour to be gray and too pearly clear to be blue. + +An equal blowing wind drew up the loch which lay be neath flooded +with morning light, the sun basking on its broad expanse, and +glittering in a myriad sparkles on the, narrows beneath them +beside which the blanket-washing had been. A frolicsome breeze +blew down the hill towards them in little flicks and eddies. One +of these drew a flossy tendril of Winsome's golden hair, which +this morning had red lights in it like the garnet gloss on ripe +wheat or Indian corn, and tossed it over her brow. Ralph's hand +tingled with the desire to touch it and put it back under her +bonnet, and his heart leaped at the thought. But though he did not +stir, nor had any part of his being moved save the hidden thought +of his heart, he seemed to fall in his own estimation as one who +had attempted a sacrilege. + +"Have you ever noticed," continued Winsome, all unconscious, going +on with that fruitful comparison of feelings which has woven so +many gossamer threads into three-fold cords, "how everything in +the fields and the woods is tamer in the morning? They seem to +have forgotten that man is their natural enemy while they slept." + +"Perhaps," said Ralph theologically, "when they awake they forget +that they are not still in that old garden that Adam kept." + +Winsome was looking at him now, for he had looked away in his +turn, lost in a poet's thought. It struck her for the first time +that other people might think him handsome. When a girl forgets to +think whether she herself is of this opinion, and begins to think +what others will think on a subject like this (which really does +not concern her at all), the proceedings in the case are not +finished. + +They walked on together down by the sunny edge of the great +plantation. The sun was now rising well into the sky, climbing +directly upward as if on this midsummer day he were leading a +forlorn hope to scale the zenith of heaven. He shone on the russet +tassels of the larches, and the deep sienna boles of the Scotch +firs. The clouds, which rolled fleecy and white in piles and +crenulated bastions of cumulus, lighted the eyes of the man and +maid as they went onward upon the crisping piny carpet of fallen +fir-needles. + +"I have never seen Nature so lovely," said Ralph, "as when the +bright morning breaks after a night of shower. Everything seems to +have been new bathed in freshness." + +"As if Dame Nature had had her spring cleaning," answered Winsome, +"or Andrew Kissock when he has had his face washed once a week," +who had been serious long enough, and who felt that too much +earnestness even in the study of Nature might be a dangerous +thing. + +But the inner thought of each was something quite different. This +is what Ralph thought within his heart, though his words were also +perfectly genuine: + +"There is a dimple on her chin which comes out when she smiles," +so he wanted her to smile again. When she did so, she was lovely +enough to peril the Faith or even the denomination. + +Ralph tried to recollect if there were no more stiles on this hill +path over which she might have to be helped. He had taken off his +hat and walked beside her bareheaded, carrying his hat in the hand +farthest from Winsome, who was wondering how soon she would be +able to tell him that he must keep his shoulders back. + +Winsome was not a young woman of great experience in these +matters, but she had the natural instinct for the possibilities of +love without which no woman comes into the world--at once armour +defensive and weapon offensive. She knew that one day Ralph Peden +would tell her that he loved her, but in the meantime it was so +very pleasant that it was a pity the days should come to an end. +So she resolved that they should not, at least not just yet. If +to-morrow be good, why confine one's self to to-day? She had not +yet faced the question of what she would say to him when the day +could be no longer postponed. She did not care to face it. +Sufficient unto the day is the good thereof, is quite as excellent +a precept as its counterpart, or at least so Winsome Charteris +thought. But, all the same, she wished that she could tell him to +keep his shoulders back. + +A sudden resolve sprang full armed from her brain. Winsome had +that strange irresponsibility sometimes which comes irresistibly +to some men and women in youth, to say something as an experiment +which she well knew she ought not to say, simply to see what would +happen. More than once it had got her into trouble. + +"I wish you would keep back your shoulders when you walk!" she +said, quick as a flash, stopping and turning sideways to face +Ralph Peden. + +Ralph, walking thoughtfully with the student stoop, stood aghast, +as though not daring to reply lest his ears had not heard aright. + +"I say, why do you not keep your shoulders back?" repeated Winsome +sharply, and with a kind of irritation at his silence. + +He had no right to make her feel uncomfortable, whatever she might +say. + +"I did not know--I thought--nobody ever told me," said Ralph, +stammering and catching at the word which came uppermost, as he +had done in college when Professor Thriepneuk, who was as fierce +in the class-room as he was mild at home, had him cornered upon a +quantity. + +"Well, then," said Winsome, "if every one is so blind, it is time +that some one did tell you now." + +Ralph squared himself like a drill-sergeant, holding himself so +straight that Winsome laughed outright, and that so merrily that +Ralph laughed too, well content that the dimple on her cheek +should play at hide and seek with the pink flush of her clear +skin. + +So they had come to the stile, and Ralph's heart beat stronger, +and a nervous tension of expectation quivered through him, +bewildering his judgment. But Winsome was very clear-headed, and +though the white of her eyes was as dewy and clear as a child's, +she was no simpleton. She had read many men and women in her time, +for it is the same in essence to rule Craig Ronald as to rule +Rome. + +"This is your way," she said, sitting down on the stile. "I am +going up to John Scott's to see about the lambs. It will be +breakfast-time at the manse before you got back." + +Ralph's castle fell to the ground. + +"I will come up with you to John Scott's," he said with an +undertone of eagerness. + +"Indeed, that you will not," said Winsome promptly, who did not +want to arrive at seven o'clock in the morning at John Scott's +with any young man. "You will go home and take to your book, after +you have changed your shoes and stockings," she said practically. + +"Well, then, let me bid you good-bye, Winsome!" said Ralph. + +Her heart was warm to hear him say Winsome--for the first time. It +certainly was not unpleasant, and there was no need that she +should quarrel about that. She was about to give him her hand, +when she saw something in his eye. + +"Mind, you are not to kiss it as you did grannie's yesterday; +besides, there are John Scott's dogs on the brow of the hill," she +said, pointing upward. + +Poor Ralph could only look more crestfallen still. Such knowledge +was too high for him. He fell back on his old formula: + +"I said before that you are a witch--" + +"And you say it again?" queried Winsome, with careless +nonchalance, swinging her bonnet by its strings. "Well, you can +come back and kiss grannie's hand some other day. You are +something of a favourite with her." + +But she had presumed just a hair-breadth too far on Ralph's +gentleness. He snatched the lilac sunbonnet out of her hands, +tearing, in his haste, one of the strings off, and leaving it in +Winsome's hand. Then he kissed it once and twice outside where the +sun shone on it, and inside where it had rested on her head. "You +have torn it," she said complainlngly, yet without anger. + +"I am very glad," said Ralph Peden, coming nearer to her with a +light in his eye that she had never seen before. + +Winsome dropped the string, snatched up the bonnet, and fled up +the hill as trippingly as a young doe towards the herd's cottage. +At the top of the fell she paused a moment with her hand on her +side, as if out of breath. Ralph Peden was still holding the torn +bonnet-string in his hand. + +He held it up, hanging loose like a pennon from his hand. She +could hear the words come clear up the hill: + +"I'm very--glad--that--I--tore--it, and I will come and--see-- +your--grandmother!" + +"Of all the--" Winsome stopped for want of words, speaking to +herself as she turned away up the hill--"of all the insolent and +disagreeable--" + +She did not finish her sentence, as she adjusted the outraged +sunbonnet on her curls, tucking the remaining string carefully +within the crown; but as she turned again to look, Ralph Peden was +calmly folding tip the string and putting it in a book. + +"I shall never speak to him again as long as I live," she said, +compressing her lips so that a dimple that Ralph had never seen +came out on the other side. This, of course, closed the record in +the case. Yet in a little while she added thoughtfully: "But he is +very handsome, and I think he will keep his shoulders back now. +Not, of course, that it matters, for I am never to speak to him +any more!" + +John Scott's dogs were by this time leaping upon her, and that +worthy shepherd was coming along a steep slope upon the edges of +his boot-soles in the miraculous manner, which is peculiar to +herds, as if he were walking on the turnpike. + +Winsome turned for the last time. Against the broad, dark sapphire +expanse of the loch, just where the great march dyke stepped off +to bathe in the summer water, she saw something black which waved +a hand and sprang over lightly. + +Winsome sighed, and said a little wistfully yet not sadly: + +"Who would have thought it of him? It just shows!" she said. All +which is a warning to maids that the meekest worm may turn. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +CAPTAIN AGNEW GREATORIX. + + +Greatorix Castle sat mightily upon a hill. It could not be hid, +and it looked down superciliously upon the little squiredom of +Craig Ronald, as well as upon farms and cottages a many. In days +not so long gone by, Greatorix Castle had been the hold of the +wearers of the White Cockade, rough riders after Lag and Sir James +Dalzyell, and rebels after that, who had held with Derwentwater +and the prince. Now there was quiet there. Only the Lady Elizabeth +and her son Agnew Greatorix dwelt there, and the farmer's cow and +the cottager's pig grazed and rooted unharmed--not always, +however, it was whispered, the farmer's daughter, for of all +serfdoms the droit du seignior is the last to die. Still, +Greatorix Castle was a notable place, high set on its hill, shires +and towns beneath, the blue breath of peat reek blowing athwart +the plain beneath and rising like an incense about. + +Here the Lady Elizabeth dwelt in solemn but greatly reduced state. +She was a woman devoted to the practice of holiness according to +the way of the priest. It was the whole wish of her life that she +might keep a spiritual director, instead of having Father Mahon to +ride over from Dumfries once a month. + +Within the castle there were many signs of decay--none of +rehabilitation. The carpets were worn into holes where feet had +oftenest fallen, and the few servants dared not take them out to +be beaten in the due season of the year, for indubitably they +would fall to pieces. So the curtains hung till an unwary stranger +would rest upon them with a hand's weight. Then that hand plucked +a palmbreadth away of the rotten and moth-eaten fabric. + +There was an aged housekeeper at Greatorix Castle, who dwelt in +the next room to the Lady Elizabeth, and was supposed to act as +her maid. Mistress Humbie, however, was an exacting person; and +being an aged woman, and her infirmities bearing upon her, she +considered it more fitting that the Lady Elizabeth should wait +upon her. This, for the good of her soul, the Lady Elizabeth did. +Two maids and a boy, a demon boy, in buttons, who dwelt below- +stairs and gave his time to the killing of rats with ingenious +catapults and crossbows, completed the household--except Agnew +Greatorix. + +The exception was a notable one. Save in the matter of fortune, +Nature had not dealt unhandsomely with Agnew Greatorix; yet just +because of this his chances of growing up into a strong and useful +man were few. He had been nurtured upon expectations from his +earliest youth. His uncle Agnew, the Lady Elizabeth's childless +brother, who for the sake of the favour of a strongly Protestant +aunt had left the mother church of the Greatorix family, had been +expected to do something for Agnew; but up to this present time he +had received only his name from him, in lieu of all the stately +heritages of Holywood in the Nith Valley hard by Lincluden, and +Stennesholm in Carrick. + +So Agnew Greatorix had grown up in the midst of raw youths who +were not his peers in position. He companied with them till his +mother pointed out that it was not for a Greatorix to drink in the +Blue Bell and at the George with the sons of wealthy farmers and +bonnet lairds. By dint of scraping and saving which took a long +time, and influence which, costing nothing, took for a Greatorix +no time at all, the Lady Elizabeth obtained for her son a +commission in the county yeomanry. There he was thrown with +Maxwells of the Braes, Herons from the Shireside, and Gordons from +the northern straths--all young men of means and figure in the +county. Into the midst of these Agnew took his tightly knit +athletic figure, his small firmly set head and full-blooded dark +face--the only faults of which were that the eyes were too closely +set together and shuttered with lids that would not open more than +half way, and that he possessed the sensual mouth of a man who has +never willingly submitted to a restraint. Agnew Greatorix could +not compete with his companions, but he cut them out as a squire +of dames, and came home with a dangerous and fascinating +reputation, the best-hated man in the corps. + +So when Captain Agnew clattered through the village in clean-cut +scarlet and clinking spurs, all the maids ran to the door, except +only a few who had once run like the others but now ran no more. +The captain came often to Craig Ronald. It was upon his way to +kirk and market, for the captain for the good of his soul went +occasionally to the little chapel of the Permission at Dumfries. +Still oftener he came with the books which the Lady Elizabeth +obtained from Edinburgh, the reading of which she shared with +Mistress Walter Skirving, whose kinship with the Lochinvars she +did not forget, though her father had been of the moorland branch +of that honourable house, and she herself had disgraced her +ancient name by marrying with a psalm-singing bonnet laird. But +the inexplicability of saying whom a woman may not take it into +her head to marry was no barrier to the friendship of the Lady +Elizabeth, who kept all her religion for her own consumption and +did not even trouble her son with it--which was a great pity, for +he indeed had much need, though small desire, thereof. + +On the contrary, it was a mark of good blood sometimes to follow +one's own fancy. The Lady Elizabeth had done that herself against +the advice of the countess her mother, and that was the reason why +she dwelt amid hangings that came away in handfuls, and was +waiting-maid to Mistress Humbie her own housekeeper. + +Agnew Greatorix had an eye for a pretty face, or rather for every +pretty face. Indeed, he had nothing else to do, except clean his +spurs and ride to the market town. So, since the author of +Waverley began to write his inimitable fictions, and his mother to +divide her time between works of devotion and the adventures of +Ivanhoe and Nigel, Agnew Greatorix had made many pilgrimages to +Craig Ronald. Here the advent of the captain was much talked over +by the maids, and even anticipated by Winsome herself as a +picturesque break in the monotony of the staid country life. +Certainly he brought the essence of strength and youth and +athletic energy into the quiet court-yard, when he rode in on his +showily paced horse and reined him round at the low steps of the +front door, with the free handling and cavalry swing which he had +inherited as much from the long line of Greatorixes who had ridden +out to harry the Warden's men along the marches, as from the +yeomanry riding-master. + +Now, the captain was neither an obliging nor yet a particularly +amiable young man, and when he took so kindly to fetching and +carrying, it was not long before the broad world of farm towns and +herds' cot-houses upon which Greatorix Castle looked down +suspected a motive, and said so in its own way. + +On one occasion, riding down the long loaning of Craig Ronald, the +captain came upon the slight, ascetic figure of Allan Welsh, the +Marrow minister, leaning upon the gate which closed the loaning +from the road. The minister observed him, but showed no signs of +moving. Agnew Greatorix checked his horse. + +"Would you open the gate and allow me to pass on my way?" he said, +with chill politeness. The minister of the Marrow kirk looked +keenly at him from under his grey eyebrows. + +"After I have had a few words with you, young sir," said Mr. +Welsh. + +"I desire no words with you," returned the young man impatiently, +backing his horse. + +"For whom are your visits at Craig Ronald intended?" said the +minister calmly. "Walter Skirving and his spouse do not receive +company of such dignity; and besides them there are only the maids +that I know of." + +"Who made you my father confessor?" mocked Agnew Greatorix, with +an unpleasant sneer on his handsome face. + +"The right of being minister in the things of the Spirit to all +that dwell in Craig Ronald House," said the minister of the Marrow +firmly. + +"Truly a pleasant ministry, and one, no doubt, requiring frequent +ministrations; yet do I not remember to have met you at Craig +Ronald," he continued. "So faithful a minister surely must be +faithful in his spiritual attentions." + +He urged his horse to the side of the gate and leaned over to open +the gate himself, but the minister had his hand firmly on the +latch. + +"I have seen you ride to many maids' houses, Agnew Greatorix, +since the day your honoured father died, but never a one have I +seen the better of your visits. Woe and sorrow have attended upon +your way. You may ride off now at your ease, but beware the +vengeance of the God of Jacob; the mother's curse and the father's +malison ride not far behind!" + +"Preach me no preachments," said the young man; "keep such for +your Marrow folk on Sundays; you but waste your words." + +"Then I beseech you by the memory of a good father, whom, though +of another and an alien communion, I shall ever respect, to cast +your eyes elsewhere, and let the one ewe lamb of those whom God +hath stricken alone." + +The gate was open now, and as he came through, Agnew Greatorix +made his horse curvet, pushing the frail form of the preacher +almost into the hedge. + +"If you would like to come and visit us up at the castle," he said +mockingly, "I dare say we could yet receive you as my forefathers, +of whom you are so fond, used to welcome your kind. I saw the +thumbikins the other day; and I dare say we could fit you with +your size in boots." + +"The Lord shall pull down the mighty from their seats, and exalt +them that are of low estate!" said the preacher solemnly. + +"Very likely," said the young man as he rode away. + + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +ON THE EDGE OF THE ORCHARD. + + +But Agnew Greatorix came as often as ever to Craig Ronald. +Generally he found Winsome busy with her household affairs, +sometimes with her sleeves buckled above her elbows, rolling the +tough dough for the crumpy farles of the oat-cake, and scattering +handfuls of dry meal over it with deft fingers to bring the mass +to its proper consistency for rolling out upon the bake-board. +Leaving his horse tethered to the great dismounting stone at the +angle of the kitchen (a granite boulder or "travelled stone," as +they said thereabouts), with an iron ring into it, he entered and +sat down to watch. Sometimes, as to-day, he would be only silent +and watchful; but he never failed to compass Winsome with the +compliment of humility and observance. It is possible that better +things were stirring in his heart than usually brought him to such +places. There is no doubt, indeed, that he appreciated the +frankness and plain speech which he received from the very +practical young mistress of Craig Ronald. + +When he left the house it was Agnew Greatorix's invariable custom +to skirt the edge of the orchard before mounting. Just in the dusk +of the great oak-tree, where its branches mingle with those of the +gean [wild cherry], he was met by the slim, lithe figure of Jess +Kissock, in whose piquant elvishness some strain of Romany blood +showed itself. + +Jess had been waiting for him ever since he had taken his hat in +his hand to leave the house. As he came in sight of the watcher, +Agnew Greatorix stopped, and Jess came closer to him, motioning +him imperiously to bring his horse close in to the shadow of the +orchard wall. Agnew did so, putting out his arm as if he would +kiss her; but, with a quick fierce movement, Jess thrust his hand +away. + +"I have told you before not to play these tricks with me--keep +them for them that ye come to Craig Ronald to see. It's the +mistress ye want. What need a gentleman like you meddle with the +maid?" + +"Impossible as it may seem, the like has been done," said Agnew, +smiling down at the black eyes and blowing elf locks. + +"Not with this maid," replied Jess succinctly, and in deed slhe +looked exceedingly able to take care of herself, as became Meg +Kissock's sister. + +"I'll go no further with Winsome," said Greatorix gloomily, +breaking the silence. "You said that if I consulted her about the +well-being of the poor rats over at the huts, and took her advice +about the new cottages for the foresters, she would listen to me. +Well, she did listen, but as soon as I hinted at any other +subject, I might as well have been talking to the old daisy in the +sitting-room with the white band round her head." + +"Did anybody ever see the like of you menfolk?" cried Jess, +throwing up her hands hopelessly; "d'ye think that a bonny lass is +just like a black ripe cherry on a bough, ready to drap into your +mooth when it pleases your high mightinesses to hold it open?" + +"Has Winsome charteris any sweetheart?" asked the captain. + +"What for wad she be doing with a sweetheart? She has muckle else +to think on. There's a young man that's baith braw an' bonny, a +great scholar frae Enbra' toon that comes gye an' aften frae the +manse o' Dullarg, whaur he's bidin' a' the simmer for the +learnin'. He comes whiles, an' Winsome kind o' gies him a bit +convoy up the hill." + +"Jess Kissock," said the young man passionately, "tell me no lies, +or--" + +"Nane o' yer ill tongue for me, young man; keep it for yer mither. +I'm little feared o' ye or ony like ye. Ye'll maybe get a bit dab +frae the neb o' a jockteleg [point of a sheath-knife] that will +yeuk [tickle] ye for a day or twa gin ye dinna learn an' that +speedily, as Maister Welsh wad say, to keep yer Han's aff my +faither's dochter." Jess's good Scots was infinitely better and +more vigorous than the English of the lady's maid. + +"I beg your pardon, Jess. I am a passionate, hasty man. I am sure +I meant no harm. Tell me more of this hulking landlouper +[intruder], and I'll give you a kiss." + +"Keep yer kisses for them that likes them. The young man's no +landlouper ony mair nor yersel'--no as mickle indeed, but a very +proper young man, wi' a face as bonny as an angel--" + +"But, Jess, do you mean to say that you are going to help him with +Winsome?" asked the young man. + +"Feint a bit!" answered the young woman frankly. "She'll no get +him gin I can help it. I saw him first and bid him guid-day afore +ever she set her een on him. It's ilka yin for hersel' when it +comes to a braw young man," and Jess tossed her gipsy head, and +pouted a pair of handsome scarlet lips. + +Greatorix laughed. "The land lies that way, does it?" he said. +"Then that's why you would not give me a kiss to-day, Jess," he +went on; "the black coat has routed the red baith but an' ben--but +we'll see. You cannot both have him, Jess, and if you are so very +fond of the parson, ye'll maybe help me to keep Winsome Charteris +to myself." + +"Wad ye mairry her gin ye had the chance, Agnew Greatorix?" + +"Certainly; what else?" replied the young man promptly. + +"Then ye shall hae her," replied Jess, as if Winsome were within +her deed of gift, + +"And you'll try for the student, Jess?" asked the young man. "I +suppose he would not need to ask twice for a kiss?" + +"Na, for I would kiss him withoot askin'--that is, gin he hadna +the sense to kiss ME," said Jess frankly. + +"Well," said Greatorix, somewhat reluctantly, "I'm sure I wish you +joy of your parson. I see now what the canting old hound from the +Dullarg Manse meant when he tackled me at the loaning foot. He +wanted Winsome for the young whelp." + +"I dinna think that," replied Jess; "he disna want him to come +aboot here ony mair nor you." + +"How do you know that, Jess?" + +"Ou, I juist ken." + +"Can you find out what Winsome thinks herself?" + +"I can that, though she hasna a word to say to me--that am far +mair deservin' o' confidence than that muckle peony faced hempie, +Meg, that an ill Providence gied me for a sis ter. Her keep a +secret?--the wind wad waft it oot o' her." Thus affectionately +Jess. + +"But how can you find out, then?" persisted the young man, yet +unsatisfied. + +"Ou fine that," said Jess. "Meg talks in her sleep." + +Before Agnew Greatorix leaped on to his horse, which all this time +had stood quiet on his bridle-arm, only occasion ally jerking his +head as if to ask his master to come away, he took the kiss he had +been denied, and rode away laugh ing, but with one cheek much +redder than the other, the mark of Jess's vengeance. + +"Ye hae ower muckle conceit an' ower little sense ever to be a +richt blackguard," said Jess as he went, "but ye hae the richt +intention for the deil's wark. Ye'll do the young mistress nae +hurt, for she wad never look twice at ye, but I cannot let her get +the bonny lad frae Embra'-na, I saw him first, an' first come +first served!" + +"Where have you been so long," asked her mistress, as she came in. + +"Juist drivin' a gilravagin' muckle swine oot o' the or chard!" +replied Jess with some force and truth. + + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE CUIF BEFORE THE SESSION. + + +"Called, nominate, summoned to appear, upon this third citation, +Alexander Mowdiewort, or Moldieward, to answer for the sin of +misca'in' the minister and session o' this parish, and to show +cause why he, as a sectary notour, should not demit, depone, and +resign his office of grave digger in the kirk-yard of this parish +with all the emoluments, benefits, and profits thereto +appertaining.--Officer, call Alexander Mowdiewort!" + +Thus Jacob Kittle, schoolmaster and session clerk of the parish of +Dullarg, when in the kirk itself that reverent though not revered +body was met in full convocation. There was presiding the Rev. +Erasmus Teends himself, the minister of the parish, looking like a +turkey-cock with a crumpled white neckcloth for wattles. He was +known in the parish as Mess John, and was full of dignified +discourse and excellent taste in the good cheer of the farmers. He +was a judge of nowt [cattle], and a connoisseur of black puddings, +which he considered to require some Isle of Man brandy to bring +out their own proper flavour. + +"Alexander Moldieward, Alexander Moldieward!" cried old Snuffy +Callum, the parish beadle, going to the door. Then in a lower +tone, "Come an' answer for't, Saunders." + +Mowdiewort and a large-boned, grim-faced old woman of fifty-five +were close beside the door, but Christie cried past them as if the +summoned persons were at the top of the Dullarg Hill at the +nearest, and also as if he had not just risen from a long and +confidential talk with them. + +It was within the black interior of the old kirk that the session +met, in the yard of which Saunders Mowdiewort had dug so many +graves, and now was to dig no more, unless he appeased the ire of +the minister and his elders for an offence against the majesty of +their court and moderator. + +"Alexander Moldieward!" again cried the old "betheral," very loud, +to some one on the top of the Dullarg Hill--then in an ordinary +voice, "come awa', Saunders man, you and your mither, an' dinna +keep them waitin'--they're no chancy when they're keepit." + +Saunders and his mother entered. + +"Here I am, guid sirs, an' you Mess John," said the grave-digger +very respectfully, "an' my mither to answer for me, an' guid een +to ye a'." + +"Come awa', Mistress Mowdiewort," said the minister. "Ye hae aye +been a guid member in full communion. Ye never gaed to a prayer- +meetin' or Whig conventicle in yer life. It's a sad peety that ye +couldna keep your flesh an' bluid frae companyin' an' covenantin' +wi' them that lichtly speak o' the kirk." + +"'Deed, minister, we canna help oor bairns--an' 'deed ye can speak +till himsel'. He is of age--ask him! But gin ye begin to be ower +sair on the callant, I'se e'en hae to tak' up the cudgels mysel'." + +With this, Mistress Mowdiewort put her hands to the strings of her +mutch, to feel that she had not unsettled them; then she stood +with arms akimbo and her chest well forward like a grenadier, as +if daring the session to do its worst. + +"I have a word with you," said Mess John, lowering at her; "it is +told to me that yon keepit your son back from answering the +session when it was his bounden duty to appear on the first +summons. Indeed, it is only on a warrant for blasphemy and the +threat of deprivation of his liveli hood that he has come to-day. +What have you to say that he should not be deprived and also +declarit excommunicate?" + +"Weel, savin' yer presence, Mess John," said Mistress Mowdiewort, +"ye see the way o't is this: Saunders, my son, is a blate [shy] +man, an' he canna weel speak for him sel'. I thought that by this +time the craiter micht hae gotten a wife again that could hae +spoken for him, an' had he been worth the weight o' a bumbee's +hind leg he wad hae had her or this--an' a better yin nor the last +he got. Aye, but a sair trouble she was to me; she had juist yae +faut, Saunders's first wife, an' that was she was nae use ava! But +it was a guid thing he was grave-digger, for he got her buriet for +naething, an' even the coffin was what ye micht ca' a second-hand +yin--though it had never been worn, which was a wunnerfu' thing. +Ye see the way o't was this: There was Creeshy Callum, the brither +o' yer doitit [stupid] auld betheral here, that canna tak' up the +buiks as they should (ye should see my Saunders tak' them up at +the Marrow kirk)--" + +"Woman," said the minister, "we dinna want to hear--" + +"Very likely no--but ye hae gien me permission to speak, an' her +that's stannin afore yer honourable coort, brawly kens the laws. +Elspeth Mowdiewort didna soop yer kirk an wait till yer session +meetings war ower for thirty year in my ain man's time withoot +kennin' a' the laws. A keyhole's a most amazin' convenient thing +by whiles, an' I was suppler in gettin' up aff my hunkers then +than at the present time." + +"Silence, senseless woman!" said the session clerk. + +"I'll silence nane, Jacob Kittle; silence yersel', for I ken +what's in the third volume o' the kirk records at the thirty +second page; an' gin ye dinna haud yer wheesht, dominie, ilka wife +in the pairish'll ken as weel as me. A bonny yin you to sit +cockin' there, an' to be learnin' a' the bairns their caritches +[catechism]." + +The session let her go her way; her son meantime stood passing an +apologetic hand over his sleek hair, and making deprecatory +motions to the minister, when he thought that his mother was not +looking in his direction. + +"Aye, I was speakin' aboot Creeshy Callum's coffin that oor +Saunders--the muckle tongueless sumph there got dirt cheap--ye see +Greeshy had been measured for't, but, as he had a short leg and a +shorter, the joiner measured the wrang leg--joiners are a' dottle +stupid bodies--an' whan the time cam' for Creeshy to be streekit, +man, he wadna fit--na, it maun hae been a sair disappointment +till him--that is to say--gin he war in the place whaur he could +think wi' ony content on his coffin, an' that, judgin' by his life +an' conversation, was far frae bein' a certainty." + +"Mistress Mowdiewort, I hae aye respectit ye, an' we are a' +willin' to hear ye noo, if you have onything to say for your son, +but you must make no insinuations against any members of the +court, or I shall be compelled to call the officer to put you +out," said the minister, rising impressively with his hand +stretched towards Mistress Elspeth Mowdiewort. + +But Elspeth Mowdiewort was far from being impressed. + +"Pit me oot, Snuffy Oallum; pit me, Eppie Mowdiewort, oot! Na, na, +Snuffy's maybe no very wise, but he kens better nor that. Man, +Maister Teends, I hae kenned the hale root an' stock o' thae +Callums frae first to last; I hae dung Greeshy till he couldna +stand--him that had to be twice fitted for his coffin; an' Wull +that was hangit at Dumfries for sheep-stealin'; an' Meg that was +servant till yersel--aye, an' a bonny piece she was as ye ken +yersel'; an' this auld donnert carle that, when he carries up the +Bibles, ye can hear the rattlin' o' his banes, till it disturbs +the congregation--I hae dung them a' heeds ower heels in their +best days--an' to tell me at the hinner end that ye wad ca' in the +betheral to pit oot Elspeth Mowdiewort! Ye maun surely hae an +awsome ill wull at the puir auld craitur!" + +"Mither," at last said Saunders, who was becoming anxious for his +grave-diggership, and did not wish to incense his judges further, +"I'm willin' to confess that I had a drap ower muckle the ither +night when I met in wi' the minister an' the dominie; but, gin I +confess it, ye'll no gar me sit on the muckle black stool i' +repentance afore a' the fowk, an' me carries up the buiks i' the +Marrow kirk." + +"Alexander Mowdiewort, ye spak ill o' the minister an' session, o' +the kirk an' the wholesome order o' this parish. We have a warrant +for your apprehension and appearance which we might, unless moved +by penitence and dutiful submission, put in force. Then are ye +aware whaur that wad land you--i' the jail in Kirkcudbright toon, +my man Saunders." + +But still it was the dread disgrace of the stool of repentance +that bulked most largely in the culprit's imagination. + +"Na, na," interjected Mistress Mowdiewort, "nae siccan things for +ony bairns o' mine. Nae son o' mine sall ever set his hurdies on +the like o't." + +"Be silent, woman!" said the minister severely; "them that will to +black stool maun to black stool. Rebukit an' chastised is the law +an' order, and rebukit and chastised shall your son be as weel as +ithers." + +"'Deed, yer nae sae fond o' rebukin' the great an' the rich. +There's that young speldron frae the castle; its weel kenned what +he is, an' hoo muckle he's gotten the weight o'." + +"He is not of our communion, and not subject to our discipline," +began the minister. + +"Weel," said Elspeth, "weel, let him alane. He's a Pape, an' gaun +to purgatory at ony gate. But then there's bletherin' Johnnie o' +the Dinnance Mains--he's as fu' as Solway tide ilka Wednesday, an' +no only speaks agin minister an' session, as maybe my Saunders did +(an' maybe no), but abuses Providence, an the bellman, an' even +blasphemes agin the fast day--yet I never heard that ye had him +cockit up on the black henbauks i' the kirk. But then he's a braw +man an' keeps a gig!" + +"The law o' the kirk is no respecter of persons," said Mess John. + +"No, unless they are heritors," said Cochrane of the Holm, who had +a pew with the name of his holding painted on it. + +"Or members o' session," said sleeky Carment of the Kirkland, who +had twice escaped the stool of repentance on the ground that, as +he urged upon the body, "gleds [hawks] shouldna pike gleds een +oot." + +"Or parish dominies," said the session clerk, to give solidarity +to his own position. + +"Weel, I ken juist this if nae mair: my son disna sit on ony o' +yer stools o' repentance," said Eppie Mowdiewort, demonstrating +the truth of her position with her hand clenched at the dominie, +who, like all clerks of ecclesiastical assemblies, was exceedingly +industrious in taking notes to very small purpose. "Mair nor that, +I'm maybe an unlearned woman, but I've been through the Testaments +mair nor yince--the New Testament mair nor twice--an' I never saw +naethin' aboot stools o' repentance in the hoose o' God. But my +son Saunders was readin' to me the ither nicht in a fule history +buik, an' there it said that amang the Papists they used to hae +fowk that didna do as they did an' believe as they believed. Sae +wi' a lang white serk on, an' a can'le i' their hands, they set +them up for the rabble fowk to clod at them, an' whiles they tied +them to a bit stick an' set lunt [fire] to them--an that's the +origin o' yer stool o' repentance. What say ye to that?" + +Mrs. Mowdiewort's lecture on church history was not at all +appreciated by the session. The minister rose. + +"We will close this sederunt," he said; "we can mak' nocht o' +these two. Alexander Mowdiewort, thou art removed from thy office +of grave-digger in the parish kirkyard, and both thysel' and thy +mother are put under suspension for contumacy!" + +"Haith!" said Elspeth Mowdiewort, pushing back her hair; "did ye +ever hear the mak' o' the craitur. I haena been within his kirk +door for twenty year. It's a guid job that a body can aye gang +doon to godly Maister Welsh, though he's an awfu' body to deave +[deafen] ye wi' the Shorter Quastions." + +"An it's a guid thing," added Saunders, "that there's a new +cemetery a-makkin'. There's no room for anither dizzen in yer auld +kailyaird onyway--an' that I'm tellin' ye. An' I'm promised the +new job too. Ye can howk yer ain graves yersel's." + +"Fash na yer heid, Saunders, aboot them," said the old betheral at +the door; "it's me that's to be grave-digger, but ye shall howk +them a' the same in the mornin', an' get the siller, for I'm far +ower frail--ye can hae them a' by afore nine o'clock, an' the +minister disna pu' up his bedroom blind till ten!" + +Thus it was that Saunders Mowdiewort ended his connection with an +Erastian establishment, and became a true and complete member of +the Marrow kirk. His mother also attended with exemplary +diligence, but she was much troubled with a toothache on the days +of catechising, and never quite conquered her unruly member to the +last. But this did not trouble herself much--only her neighbours. + + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME. + + +That night Saunders went up over the hill again, dressed in his +best. He was not a proud lover, and he did not take a rebuff +amiss; besides, he had something to tell Meg Kissock. When he got +to Craig Ronald, the girls were in the byre at the milking, and at +every cow's tail there stood a young man, rompish Ebie Farrish at +that at which Jess was milking, and quiet Jock Forrest at Meg's. +Ebie was joking and keeping up a fire of running comment with +Jess, whose dark-browed gipsy face and blue-black wisps of hair +were set sideways towards him, with her cheek pressed upon Lucky's +side, as she sent the warm white milk from her nimble fingers, +with a pleasant musical hissing sound against the sides of the +milking-pail. + +Farther up the byre, Meg leaned her head against Crummy and milked +steadily. Apparently she and Jock Forrest were not talking at all. +Jock looked down and only a quiver of the corner of his beard +betrayed that he was speaking. Meg, usually so outspoken and full +of conversation, appeared to be silent; but really a series of +short, low-toned sentences was being rapidly exchanged, so swiftly +that no one, standing a couple of yards away, could have remarked +the deft interchange. + +But as soon as Saunders Mowdiewort came to the door, Jock Forrest +had dropped Crummy's tail, and slipped silently out of the byre, +even before Meg got time to utter her usual salutation of-- + +"Guid een to ye, Cuif! Hoo's a' the session?" + +It might have been the advent of Meg's would-be sweetheart that +frightened Jock Forrest away, or again he might have been in the +act of going in any case. Jock was a quiet man who walked sedately +and took counsel of no one. He was seldom seen talking to any man, +never to a woman--least of all to Meg Kissock. But when Meg had +many "lads" to see her in the evening, he could he observed to +smile an inward smile in the depths of his yellow beard, and a +queer subterranean chuckle pervaded his great body, so that on one +occasion Jess looked up, thinking that there were hens roosting in +the baulks overhead. + +Jess and Ebie pursued their flirtation steadily and harmlessly, as +she shifted down the byre as cow after cow was relieved of her +richly perfumed load, rumbling and clinking neck chains, and +munching in their head-stalls all the while. Saunders and Meg were +as much alone as if they had been afloat on the bosom of Loch +Grannoch. + +"Ye are a bonny like man," said Meg, "to tak' yer minny to speak +for ye before the session. Man, I wonder at ye. I wonder ye didna +bring her to coort for ye?" + +"War ye ever afore the Session, Meg?" + +"Me afore the session--ye're a fule man, but ye dinna ken what yer +sayin'--gin I thocht ye did--" + +Here Meg became so violently agitated that Flecky, suffering from +the manner in which Meg was doing her duty, kicked out, and nearly +succeeded in overturning the milk-pail. Meg's quickness with hand +and knee foiled this intention, but Flecky succeeded quite in +planting the edge of her hoof directly on the Cuif's shin-bone. +Saunders thereupon let go Flecky's tail, who instantly switched it +into Meg's face with a crack like a whip. + +"Ye great muckle senseless hullion!" exclaimed Meg, "gin ye are +nae use in the byre, gang oot till ye can learn to keep haud o' a +coo's tail! Ye hae nae mair sense than an Eerishman!" + +There was a pause. The subject did not admit of discussion, though +Saunders was a cuif, he knew when to hold his tongue--at least on +most occasions. + +"An' what brocht ye here the nicht, Cuif?" asked Meg, who, when +she wanted information, knew how to ask it directly, a very rare +feminine accomplishment. + +"To see you, Meg, my dawtie," replied Saunders, tenderly edging +nearer. + +"Yer what?" queried Meg with asperity; "I thocht that ye had +aneuch o' the session already for caa'in' honest fowk names; gin +ye begin wi' me, ye'll get on the stool o' repentance o' yer ain +accord, afore I hae dune wi' ye!" + +"But, Meg, I hae telled ye afore that I am sair in need o' a wife. +It's byordinar' [extraordinary] lonesome up in the hoose on the +hill. An' I'm warned oot, Meg, so that I'll look nae langer on the +white stanes o' the kirkyaird." + +"Gin ye want a wife, Saunders, ye'll hae to look oot for a deef +yin, for it's no ony or'nar' woman that could stand yer mither's +tongue. Na, Saunders, it wad be like leevin' i' a corn-mill +rinnin' withoot sheaves." + +"Meg," said Saunders, edging up cautiously, "I hae something to +gie ye!" + +"Aff wi' ye, Cuif! I'll hae nae trokin' wi' lads i' the byre--na, +there's a time for everything--especial wi' widowers, they're the +warst o' a'--they ken ower muckle. My granny used to say, gin +Solomon couldna redd oot the way o' a man wi' a maid, what wad he +hae made o' the way o' a weedower that's lookin' for his third?" + + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +A DAUGHTER OF THE PICTS. + + +The Cuif put his hands in his pockets as if to keep them away from +the dangerous temptation of touching Meg. He stood with his +shoulder against the wall and chewed a straw. + +"What's come o' Maister Peden thae days?" asked Meg. + +"He's maist michty unsettled like," replied Saunders, "he's for a' +the world like a stirk wi' a horse cleg on him that he canna get +at. He comes in an' sits doon at his desk, an' spreads oot his +buiks, an' ye wad think that he's gaun to be at it the leevelang +day. But afore ye hae time to turn roon' an' get at yer ain wark, +the craitur'll be oot again an' awa' up to the hill wi' a buik +aneath his oxter. Then he rises early in the mornin', whilk is no +a guid sign o' a learned man, as I judge. What for should a +learned man rise afore his parritch is made? There maun be +something sair wrang," said Saunders Mowdiewort. + +"Muckle ye ken aboot learned men. I suppose, ye think because ye +carry up the Bible, that ye ken a' that's in't," returned Meg, +with a sneer of her voice that might have turned milk sour. The +expression of the emotions is fine and positive in the kitchens of +the farm towns of Galloway. + +"SWISH, SWISH!" steadily the white streams of milk shot into the +pails. "JANGLE, JANGLE!" went the steel head chains of the cows. +Occasionally, as Jess and Meg lifted their stools, they gave +Flecky or Speckly a sound clap on the back with their hand or +milking-pail, with the sharp command of "Stan' aboot there!" "Haud +up!" "Mind whaur yer comin'!" Such expressions as these Jess and +Meg could interject into the even tenor of their conversation, in +a way that might have been disconcerting in dialogues conducted on +other principles. But really the interruptions did not affect Ebie +Farrish or any other of the byre-visiting young men, any more than +the rattling of the chains, as Flecky and Speckly arranged their +own business at the end devoted to imports. These sharp words of +command were part of the nightly and morningly ceremony of the +"milking" at every farm. The cans could no more froth with the +white reaming milk without this accompaniment of slaps and +adjurations than Speckly, Flecky, and the rest could take their +slow, thoughtfully considerate, and sober way from the hill +pastures into the yard without Meg at the gate of the field to +cry: "Hurley, Hurley, hie awa' hame!" to the cows themselves; and +"Come awa' bye wi' them, fetch them, Roger!" to the short-haired +collie, who knew so much better than to go near their flashing +heels. + +The conversation in the byre proceeded somewhat in this way: + +Jess was milking her last cow, with her head looking sideways at +Ebie, who stood plaiting Marly's tail in a newfangled fashion he +had brought from the low end of the parish, and which was just +making its way among young men of taste. + +"Aye, ye'll say so, nae doot," said Jess, in reply to some pointed +compliment of her admirer; "but I ken you fowk frae the laich end +ower weel. Ye hae practeesed a' that kind o' talk on the lasses +doon there, or ye wadna be sae gleg [ready] wi't to me, Ebie." + +This is an observation which shows that Jess could not have eaten +more effectively of the tree of knowledge, had she been born in +Mayfair. + +Ebie laughed a laugh half of depreciation, half of pleasure, like +a cat that has its back stroked and its tail pinched at the same +time. + +"Na, na, Jess, it a' comes by natur'. I never likit a lassie afore +I set my een on you," said Ebie, which, to say the least of it, +was curious, considering that he had an assortment of locks of +hair--black, brown, and lint-white--up in the bottom of his +"kist" in the stable loft where he slept. He kept them along with +his whipcord and best Sunday pocket knife, and sometimes he took a +look at them when he had to move them in order to get his green +necktie. "I never really likit a lass afore, Jess, ye may believe +me, for I wasna a lad to rin after them. But whenever I cam' to +Craig Ronald I saw that I was dune for." + +"STAN' BACK, YE MUCKLE SLABBER!" said Jess, suddenly and +emphatically, in a voice that could have been heard a hundred +yards away. Speckly was pushing sideways against her as if to +crowd her off her stool. + +"Say ye sae, Ebie?" she added, as if she had not previously +spoken, in the low even voice in which she had spoken from the +first, and which could be heard by Ebie alone. In the country they +conduct their love-making in water-tight compartments. And though +Ebie knew very well that the Cuif was there, and may have +suspected Jock Forrest, even after his apparent withdrawal, so +long as they did not trouble him in his conversation with Jess, he +paid no heed to them, nor indeed they to him. No man is his +brother's keeper when he goes to the byre to plait cows' tails. + +"But hoo div ye ken, or, raither, what gars ye think that ye're no +the first that I hae likit, Jess?" + +"Oh, I ken fine," said Jess, who was a woman of knowledge, and had +her share of original sin. + +"But hoo div ye ken?" persisted Ebie. + +"Fine that," said Jess, diplomatically. + +A DAUGHTER OF THE PICTS + +"But tell us, Jess," said Ebie, who was in high good humour at +these fascinating accusations. + +"Oh," said Jess, with a quick gipsy look out of her fine dark +eyes, "brawly I kenned on Saturday nicht that yon wasna the first +time ye had kissed a lass!" + +"Jess," said Ebie, "ye're a wunnerfu' woman!" which was his +version of Ralph's "You are a witch." In Ebie's circle "witch" was +too real a word to be lightly used, so he said "wunnerfu' woman." + +He went on looking critically at Jess, as became so great a +connoisseur of the sex. + +"I hae seen, maybes, bonnier faces, as ye micht say--" + +"HAUD AFF, WI' YE THERE; MIND WHAUR YER COMIN', YE MUCKLE +SENSELESS NOWT!" said Jess to her Ayrshire Hornie, who had been +treading on her toes. + +"As I was sayin', Jess, I hae seen--" + +"CAN YE NO UNNERSTAN', YE SENSELESS LUMP?" cried Jess, warningly; +"I'll knock the heid aff ye, gin ye dinna drap it!" still to +Hornie, of course. + +But the purblind theorist went on his way: "I hae seen bonnier +faces, but no mair takin', Jess, than yours. It's no aye beauty +that tak's a man, Jess, ye see, an' the lassies that hae dune best +hae been plain-favoured lassies that had pleasant expressions--" + +"Tell the rest to Hornie gin ye like!" said Jess, rising viciously +and leaving Ebie standing there dumfounded. He continued to hold +Hornie's tail for some time, as if he wished to give her some +further information on the theory of beauty, as understood in the +"laich" end of the parish. + +Saunders saw him from afar, and cried out to him down the length +of the byre, + +"Are ye gaun to mak' a watch-guard o' that coo's tail, Ebie?--ye +look fell fond o't." + +"Ye see what it is to be in love," said John Scott, the herd, who +had stolen to the door unperceived and so had marked Ebie's +discomfiture. + +"He disna ken the difference between Jess hersel' an' Hornie!" +said the Cuif, who was repaying old scores. + + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +AT THE BARN END + + +In a little while the cows were all milked. Saunders was standing +at the end of the barn, looking down the long valley of the +Grannoch water. There was a sweet coolness in the air, which he +vaguely recognized by taking off his hat. + +"Open the yett!" cried Jess, from the byre door. Saunders heard +the clank and jangle of the neck chains of Hornie and Specky and +the rest, as they fell from their necks, loosened by Jess's hand. +The sound grew fainter and fainter as Jess proceeded to the top of +the byre where Marly stood soberly sedate and chewed her evening +cud. Now Marly did not like Jess, therefore Meg always milked her; +she would not, for some special reason of her own, "let doon her +milk" when Jess laid a finger on her. This night she only shook +her head and pushed heavily against Jess as she came. + +"Hand up there, ye thrawn randy!" said Jess in byre tones. + +And so very sulkily Marly moved out, looking for Meg right and +left as she did so. She had her feelings as well as any one, and +she was not the first who had been annoyed by the sly, mischievous +gipsy with the black eyes, who kept so quiet before folk. As she +went out of the byre door, Jess laid her switch smartly across +Marly's loins, much to the loss of dignity of that stately animal, +who, taking a hasty step, slipped on the threshold, and overtook +her neighbours with a slow resentment gathering in her matronly +breast. + +When Saunders Mowdiewort heard the last chain drop in the byre, +and the strident tones of Jess exhorting Marly, he took a few +steps to the gate of the hill pasture. He had to pass along a +short home-made road, and over a low parapetless bridge +constructed simply of four tree-trunks laid parallel and covered +with turf. Then he dropped the bars of the gate into the hill +pasture with a clatter, which came to Winsome's ears as she stood +at her window looking out into the night. She was just thinking at +that moment what a good thing it was that she had sent back Ralph +Peden's poem. So, in order to see whether this were so or not, she +repeated it all over again to herself. + +When he came back again to the end of the barn, Saunders found +Jess standing there, with the wistful light in her eyes which that +young woman of many accomplishments could summon into them as +easily as she could smile. For Jess was a minx--there is no +denying the fact. Yet even slow Saunders admitted that, though she +was nothing to Meg, of course, still there was something original +and attractive about her--like original sin. + +Jess was standing with her head on one side, putting the scarlet +head of a poppy among her black hair. Jess had strange tastes, +which would be called artistic nowadays in some circles. Her +liking was always BIZARRE and excellent, the taste of the +primitive Galloway Pict from whom she was descended, or of that +picturesque Glenkens warrior, who set a rowan bush on his head on +the morning when he was to lead the van at the battle of the +Standard. Scotland was beaten on that great occasion, it is true; +but have the chroniclers, who complain of the place of Galloway +men in the ranks, thought how much more terribly Scotland might +have been beaten had Galloway not led the charge? But this is +written just because Jess Kissock, a Galloway farm lassie, looked +something like a cast back to the primitive Pict of the south, a +fact which indeed concerns the story not at all, for Saunders +Mowdiewort had not so much as ever heard of a Pict. + +Jess did not regard Saunders Mowdiewort highly at any time. He was +one of Meg's admirers, but after all he was a man, and one can +never tell. It was for this reason that she put the scarlet poppy +into her hair. + +She meditated "I maybe haena Meg's looks to the notion o' some +folk, but I mak' a heap better use o' the looks that I hae, an' +that is a great maitter!" + +"Saunders," said Jess softly, going up to the Cuif and pretending +to pick a bit of heather off his courting coat. She did this with +a caressing touch which soothed the widower, and made him wish +that Meg would do the like. He began to think that he had never +properly valued Jess. + +"Is Meg comin' oot again?" Jess inquired casually, the scarlet +poppy set among the blue-black raven's wings, and brushing his +beard in a distracting manner. + +Saunders would hare given a good deal to be able to reply in the +affirmative, but Meg had dismissed him curtly after the milking, +with the intimation that it was time he was making manseward. As +for her, she was going within doors to put the old folks to bed. + +After being satisfied on this point the manner of Jess was +decidedly soothing. That young woman had a theory which was not +quite complimentary either to the sense or the incorruptibility of +men. It was by showing an interest in them and making them think +that they (or at least the one being operated upon) are the +greatest and most fascinating persons under the sun, almost +anything can be done. This theory has been acted upon with results +good and bad, in other places besides the barn end of Craig +Ronald. + +"They're a' weel at the Manse?" said Jess, tentatively. + +"On aye," said Saunders, looking round the barn end to see if Meg +could see him. Satisfied that Meg was safe in bed, Saunders put +his hand on Jess's shoulder--the sleek-haired, candle-greased +deceiver that he was. + +"Jess, ye're bonny," said he. + +"Na, na," said Jess, very demurely, "it's no me that's bonny--its +Meg!" + +Jess was still looking at him, and interested in getting all the +rough wool off the collar of his homespun coat. + +The Samson of the graveyard felt his strength deserting him. + +"Davert, Jess lass, but it's a queer thing that it never cam +across me that ye were bonny afore!" + +Jess looked down. The Cuif thought that it was because she was +shy, and his easy heart went out to her; but had he seen the smile +that was wasted on a hopping sparrow beneath, and especially the +wicked look in the black eyes, he might have received some +information as to the real sentiments of girls who put red poppies +in their hair in order to meet their sisters' sweethearts at the +barn end. + +"Is the young minister aye bidin' at the Manse?" asked Jess. + +"Aye, he is that!" said Saunders, "he's a nice chiel' yon. Ye'll +see him whiles ower by here. They say--that is Manse Bell says-- +that he's real fond o' yer young mistress here. Ken ye ocht aboot +that, Jess?" + +"Hoots, havers, our young mistress is no for penniless students, I +wot weel. There'll be nocht in't, an' sae ye can tell Bell o' the +Manse, gin you an' her is so chief [intimate]." + +"Very likely ye're richt. There'll be nocht in't, I'm thinkin'--at +least on her side. But what o' the young man? D'ye think he's sair +ta'en up aboot Mistress Winsome? Meg was sayin' so." + +"Meg thinks there's naebody worth lookin' at in the warl' but +hersel' and Mistress Winifred Charteris, as she ca's hersel'; but +there's ithers thinks different." + +"What hae ye against her, Jess? I thocht that she's a fell fine +young leddy." + +"Oh she's richt eneuch, but there's bonny lasses as weel as her; +an' maybe, gin young Maister Peden comes ower by to Oraig Eonald +to see a lass nnkenned o' a'--what faut wad there be in that?" + +"Then it's Meg he comes to see, and no' the young mistress?" said +the alarmed grave-digger. + +"Maybes aye an' maybes no--there's bonny lasses forby Meg Kissock +for them that hae gotten een in their heads." + +"Wi' Jess! Is't yerself?" said Saunders. + +Jess was discreetly silent. + +"Ye'll no tell onybody, wull ye, Maister Mowdiewort?" she said +anxiously. + +To Saunders this was a great deal better than being called a +"Cuif." + +"Na, Jess, lass, I'll no tell a soul--no yin." + +"No' even Meg-mind!" repeated Jess, who felt that this was a vital +point. + +So Saunders promised, though he had intended to do so on the first +opportunity. + +"Mind, if ye do, I'll never gie ye a hand wi' Meg again as lang as +I leeve!" said Jess emphatically. + +"Jess, d'ye think she likes me?" asked the widower in a hushed +whisper. + +"Saunders, I'm jnist sure o't," replied Jess with great readiness. +"But she's no yin o' the kind to let on." + +"Na," groaned Saunders, "I wuss to peace she was. But ye mind me +that I gat a letter frae the young minister that I was to gie to +Meg. But as you're the yin he comes to see, I maun as weel gie't +direct to yoursel'." + +"It wad be as weel," said Jess, with a strange sort of sea-fire +like moonshine in her eyes. + +Saunders passed over a paper to her readily, and Jess, with her +hand still on his coat-collar, in a way that Meg had never used, +thanked him in her own way. + +"Juist bide a wee," she said; "I'll be wi' ye in a minute!" + +Jess hurried down into the old square-plotted garden, which ran up +to the orchard trees. She soon found a moss-rose bush from which +she selected a bud, round which the soft feathery envelope was +just beginning to curl back. Then she went round by the edge of +the brook which keeps damp one side of the orchard, where she +found some single stems of forget-me-nots, shining in the dusk +like beaded turquoise. She pulled some from the bottom of the +half-dry ditch, and setting the pale moss-rosebud in the middle, +she bound the whole together with a striped yellow and green +withe. Then snipping the stacks with her pocket scissors, she +brought the posy to Saunders, with instructions to wrap it in a +dock-leaf and never to let his hands touch it the whole way. + +Saunders, dazed and fascinated, forgetful even of Meg and loyalty, +promised. The glamour of Jess, the gypsy, was upon him. + +"But what am I to say," he asked. + +"Say its frae her that he sent the letter to; he'll ken brawly +that Meg hadna the gumption to send him that!" said Jess candidly. + +Saunders said his good-night in a manner which would certainly +have destroyed all his chances with Meg had she witnessed the +parting. Then he stolidly tramped away down the loaning. + +Jess called after him, struck with a sudden thought. "See that ye +dinna gie it to him afore the minister." + +Then she put her hands beneath her apron and walked home +meditating. "To be a man is to be a fool," said Jess Kissock, +putting her whole experience into a sentence. Jess was a daughter +of the cot; put then she was also a daughter of Eve, who had not +even so much as a cot. + + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +"DARK-BROWED EGYPT." + + +As soon as Jess was by herself in the empty byre, to which she +withdrew herself with the parcel which the faithful and +trustworthy Cuif had entrusted to her, she lit the lantern which +always stood in the inside of one of the narrow triangular wickets +that admitted light into the byre. Sitting down on the small hay +stall, she pulled the packet from her pocket, looked it carefully +over, and read the simple address, "In care of Margaret Kissock." +There was no other writing upon the outside. + +Opening the envelope carefully, he let the light of the byre +lantern rest on the missive. It was written in a delicate but +strong handwriting--the hand of one accustomed to forming the +smaller letters of ancient tongues into a current script. "To +Mistress Winifred Charteris," it ran. "Dear Lady: That I have +offended you by the hastiness of my words and the unforgivable +wilfulness of my actions, I know, but cannot forgive myself. Yet, +knowing the kindness of your disposition, I have thought that you +might be better disposed to pardon me than I myself. For I need +not tell you, what you already know, that the sight of you is +dearer to me than the light of the morning. You are connected in +my mind and heart with all that is best and loveliest. I need not +tell now that I love you, for you know that I love the string of +your bonnet. Nor am I asking for anything in return, save only +that you may know my heart and not be angry. This I send to ease +its pain, for it has been crying out all night long, 'Tell her-- +tell her!' So I have risen early to write this. Whether I shall +send it or no, I cannot tell. There is no need, Winsome, to answer +it, if you will only let it fall into your heart and make no +noise, as a drop of water falls into the sea. Whether you will be +angry or not I cannot tell, and, truth to tell you, sweetheart, I +am far past caring. I am coming, as I said, to Craig Ronald to see +your grandmother, and also, if you will, to see you. I shall not +need you to tell me whether you are angered with a man's love or +no; I shall know that before you speak to me. But keep a thought +for one that loves you beyond all the world, and as if there were +no world, and naught but God and you and him. For this time fare +you well. Ralph Peden." + +Jess turned it over with a curious look on her face. "Aye, he has +the grip o't, an' she micht get him gin she war as clever as Jess +Kissock; but him that can love yin weel can lo'e anither better, +an' I can keep them sindry [asunder]. I saw him first, an' he spak +to me first. 'Ye're no to think o' him,' said my mither. Think o' +him! I hae thocht o' nocht else. Think of him! Since when is +thinkin' a crime? A lass maun juist do the best she can for +hersel', be she cotman's dochter or laird's. Love's a' yae thing-- +kitchen or byre, but or ben. See a lad, lo'e a lad, get a lad, +keep a lad! Ralph Peden will kiss me afore the year's oot," she +said with determination. + +So in the corner of the byre, among the fragrant hay and fresh-cut +clover, Jess Kissock the cottar's lass prophesied out of her +wayward soul, baring her intentions to herself as perhaps her +sister in boudoir hushed and perfumed might not have done. There +are Ishmaels also among women, whose hand is against every woman, +and who stand for their own rights to the man on whom they have +set their love; and the strange thing is, that such are by no +means the worst of women either. + +Stranger still, so strong and dividing to soul and marrow is a +clearly defined purpose and determinately selfish, that such women +do not often fail. And indeed Jess Kissock, sitting in the hay- +neuk, with her candle in the lantern throwing patterns on the +cobwebby walls from the tiny perforations all round, made a +perfectly correct prophecy. Ralph Peden did indeed kiss her, and +that of his own free will as his love of loves within a much +shorter space of time than a year. + +Strangely also, Jess the gipsy, the dark-browed Pictess, was +neither angry nor jealous when she read Ralph's letter to Winsome. +According to all rules she ought to have been. She even tried to +persuade herself that she was. But the sight of Ralph writing to +Winsome gave no pang to her heart. Nor did this argue that she did +not love really and passionately. She did; but Jess had in her the +Napoleon instinct. She loved obstacles. So thus it was what she +communed with herself, sitting with her hand on her brow, and her +swarthy tangle of hair falling all about her face. All women have +a pose in which they look best. Jess looked best leaning forward +with her elbows on her knees. Had there been a fender at her +father's fireside Jess would have often sat on it, for there is a +dangerous species of girl that, like a cat, looks best sitting on +a fender. And such a girl is always aware of the circumstance. + +"He has written to Winsome," Jess communed with herself. "Well, he +shall write to me. He loves her, he thinks; then in time he shall +love me, and be sure perfectly o't. Let me see. Gin she had gotten +this letter, she wadna hae answered it. So he'll come the morn, +an' he'll no say a word to her aboot the letter. Na, he'll juist +look if she's pleased like, and gin that gomeral Saunders gied him +the rose, he'll no be ill to please eyther! But afore he gangs +hame he shall see Jess Kissock, an' hear frae her aboot the young +man frae the Castle!" Jess took another look at the letter." It's +a bonny hand o' write," she said, "but Dominie Cairnochan learned +me to write as weel as onybody, an' some day he'll write to me. +I'se no be byre lass a' my life. Certes no. There's oor Meg, noo; +she'll mairry some ignorant landward man, an' leeve a' her life in +a cot hoose, wi' a dizzen weans tum'lin' aboot her! What yin canna +learn, anither can," continued Jess. "I hae listened to graun' +fowk speakin', an' I can speak as weel as onybody. I'll disgrace +nane. Gin I canna mak' mysel' fit for kirk or manse, my name's no +Jess Kissock. I'm nae country lump, to be left where I'm set doon, +like a milkin' creepie [stool], an' kickit ower when they are dune +wi' me." + +It is of such women, born to the full power and passion of sex, +and with all the delicate keenness of the feminine brain, utterly +without principle or scruple, that the Cleopatras are made. For +black-browed Egypt, the serpent of old Nile, can sit in a country +byre, and read a letter to another woman. For Cleopatra is not +history; she is type. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +THE RETURN OF EBIE FARRISH. + + +Now Ebie Farrish had been over at the Nether Crae seeing the +lassies there in a friendly way after the scene in the byre, for +Galloway ploughmen were the most general of lovers. Ebie +considered it therefore no disloyalty to Jess that he would +display his watch-guard and other accomplishments to the young +maids at the Crae. Nor indeed would Jess herself have so +considered it. It was only Meg who was so particular that she did +not allow such little practice excursions of this kind on the part +of her young men. + +When Ebie started to go home, it was just midnight. As he came +over the Grannoch bridge he saw the stars reflected in the water, +and the long stretches of the loch glimmering pearl grey in the +faint starlight and the late twilight. He thought they looked as +if they were running down hill. His thoughts and doings that day +and night had been earthly enough. He had no regrets and few +aspirations. But the coolness of the twilight gave him the sense +of being a better man than he knew himself to be. Ebie went to sit +under the ministrations of the Reverend Erasmus Teends at twelve +by the clock on Sunday. He was a regular attendant. He always was +spruce in his Sunday blacks. He placed himself in the hard pews so +that he could have a view of his flame for the time being. As he +listened to the minister he thought sometimes of her and of his +work, and of the turnip-hoeing on the morrow, but oftenest of +Jess, who went to the Marrow kirk over the hills. He thought of +the rise of ten shillings that he would ask at the next half- +year's term, all as a matter of course--just as Robert Jamieson +the large farmer, thought of the rent day and the market ordinary, +and bringing home the "muckle greybeard "full of excellent +Glenlivat from the Cross Keys on Wednesday. Above them both the +Reverend Erasmus Teends droned and drowsed, as Jess Kissock said +with her faculty for expression, "bummelin' awa like a bubbly-Jock +or a bum-bee in a bottle." + +But coming home in the coolness of this night, the ploughman was, +for the time being, purged of the grosser humours which come +naturally to strong, coarse natures, with physical frames ramping +with youth and good feeding. He stood long looking into the lane +water, which glided beneath the bridge and away down to the Dee +without a sound. + +He saw where, on the broad bosom of the loch, the stillness lay +grey and smooth like glimmering steel, with little puffs of night +wind purling across it, and disappearing like breath from a new +knife-blade. He saw where the smooth satin plane rippled to the +first water-break, as the stream collected itself, deep and black, +with the force of the water behind it, to flow beneath the bridge. +When Ebie Farrish came to the bridge he was a material Galloway +ploughman, satisfied with his night's conquests and chewing the +cud of their memory. + +He looked over. He saw the stars, which were perfectly reflected a +hundred yards away on the smooth expanse, first waver, then +tremble, and lastly break into a myriad delicate shafts of light, +as the water quickened and gathered. He spat in the water, and +thought of trout for breakfast. But the long roar of the rapids of +the Dee came over the hill, and a feeling of stillness with it, +weird and remote. Uncertain lights shot hither and thither under +the bridge, in strange gleams of reflection. The ploughman was +awed. He continued to gaze. The stillness closed in upon him. The +aromatic breath of the pines seemed to cool him and remove him +from himself. He had a sense that it was Sabbath morning, and that +he had just washed his face to go to church. It was the nearest +thing to worship he had ever known. Such moments come to the most +material, and are their theology. Far off a solitary bird whooped +and whinnied. It sounded mysterious and unknown, the cry of a lost +soul. Ebie Farrish wondered where he would go to when he died. He +thought this over for a little, and then he concluded that it were +better not to dwell on this subject. But the crying on the lonely +hills awed him. It was only a Jack snipe from whose belated nest +an owl had stolen two eggs. But it was Ebie Farrish's good angel. +He resolved that he would go seldomer to the village public o' +nights, and that he would no more find cakes and ale sweet to his +palate. It was a foregone conclusion that on Saturday night he +would be there, yet what he heard and saw on Grannoch Bridge +opened his sluggish eyes. Of a truth there was that in the world +which had not been there for him before. It is to Jess Kissock's +credit, that when Ebie was most impressed by the stillness and +most under the spell of the night, he thought of her. He was only +an ignorant, godless, good-natured man, who was no more moral than +he could help; but it is both a testimonial and a compliment when +such a man thinks of a woman in his best and most solemn moments. + +At that moment Jess Kissock was putting Winsome Charteris's letter +into her pocket. + +There is no doubt that poor, ignorant Ebie, with his highly +developed body and the unrestrained and irregular propensities of +his rudimentary soul, was nearer the Almighty that night than his +keen-witted and scheming sweetheart. + +A trout leaped in the calm water, and Ebie stopped thinking of the +eternities to remember where he had set a line. Far off a cock +crew, and the well-known sound warned Ebie that he had better be +drawing near his bed. He raised himself from the copestone of the +parapet, and solemnly tramped his steady way up to the "onstead" +of Craig Ronald, which took shape before him as he advanced like a +low, grey-bastioned castle. As he entered the low square on his +way across to the stable door he was surprised to notice a gleam +of light in the byre. Ebie thought that some tramps were +trespassing on the good nature of the mistress of the house, and +he had the feeling of loyalty to his master's interests which +distinguished the Galloway ploughman of an older time. He was +mortally afraid of bogles, and would not have crossed the kirkyard +after the glimmer of midnight without seeing a dozen corpse- +candles; but tramps were quite another matter, for Ebie was not in +the least afraid of mortal man--except only of Allan Welsh, the +Marrow minister. + +So he stole on tiptoe to the byre door, circumnavigating the +"wicket," which poured across the yard its tell-tale plank of +light. Standing within the doorway and looking over the high +wooden stall, tenanted in winter by Jock, the shaggy black bull, +Ebie saw Jess Kissock, lost in her dreams. The lantern was set on +the floor in front of her. The candle had nearly burned down to +the socket. Jess's eyes were large and brilliant. It seemed to +Ebie Farrish that they were shining with light. Her red lips were +pouted, and there was a warm, unwonted flush on her cheeks. In her +dreams she was already mistress of a house, and considering how +she would treat her servants. She would treat them kindly and +well. She had heard her sister, who was servant at Earlston, tell +how the ladies there treated their servants. Jess meant to do just +the same. She meant to be a real lady. Ambition in a woman has a +double chance, for adaptation is inborn along with it. Most men do +not succeed very remarkably in anything, because at heart they do +not believe in themselves. Jess did. It was her heritage from some +Pict, who held back under the covert of his native woods so long +as the Roman tortoise crept along, shelved in iron, but who drave +headlong into a gap with all his men, when, some accident of +formation showed the one chance given in a long day's march. + +Ebie thought he had never seen Jess so beautiful. It had never +struck him before that Jess was really handsomer than Meg. He only +knew that there was a stinging wild-fruit fragrance about Jess and +her rare favours he had never experienced in the company of any +other woman. And he had a large experience. + +Was it possible that she knew that he was out and was waiting for +him? In this thought, which slowly entered in upon his +astonishment, the natural Ebie forced himself to the front. + +"Jess!" he exclaimed impulsively, taking a step within, the door. +Instantly, as though some night-flying bat had flown against it, +the candle went out--a breath wafted by him as lightly and as +silently as a snowy owl flies home in the twilight. A subtle +something, the influence of a presence, remained, which mingled +strangely with the odours of the clover in the neuk, and the sour +night-smell of the byre. Again there was a perfect silence. +Without, a corncrake ground monotonously. A rat scurried along the +rafter. Ebie in the silence and the darkness had almost persuaded +himself that he had been dreaming, when his foot clattered against +something which fell over on the cobble-stones that paved the +byre. He stopped and picked it up. It was the byre lantern. The +wick was still glowing crimson when he opened the little tin door. +As he looked it drew slowly upward into a red star, and winked +itself out. It was no dream. Jess had been in the byre. To meet +whom? he asked himself. + +Ebie went thoughtfully up-stairs, climbing the stable ladder as +the first twilight of the dawn was slowly pouring up from beneath +into a lake of light and colour in the east, as water gushes from +a strong well-eye. + +"Ye're a nice boy comin' to yer bed at this time o' the mornin'," +said Jock Forrest from his bunk at the other side. + +"Nicht-wanderin' bairns needs skelpin'!" remarked Jock Gordon, who +had taken up his abode in a vacant stall beneath. + +"Sleep yer ain sleeps, ye pair o' draft-sacks, in yer beds," +answered Ebie Farrish without heat and simply as a conversational +counter. + +He did not know that he was quoting the earliest English classic. +He had never heard of Chaucer. + +"What wad Jess say?" continued Jock Forrest, sleepily. + +"Ask her," said Ebie sharply. + +"At any rate, I'm no gaun to be disturbit in my nicht's rest wi' +the like o' you, Ebie Farrish! Ye'll eyther come hame in time o' +nicht, or ye'll sleep elsewhere--up at the Crae, gin ye like." + +"Mind yer ain business," retorted Ebie, who could think of nothing +else to say. + +Down below daft Jock Gordon, with some dim appropriateness was +beginning his elricht croon of-- + + "The devil sat on his ain lum-tap, + Hech how--black and reeky--" + +when Jock Forrest, out of all patience, cried out down to him: +"Jock Gordon, gin ye begin yer noise at twa o'clock i' the mornin' +I'll come down an' pit ye i' the mill-dam!" + +"Maybes ye'll be cryin' for me to pit you i' the mill-dam some +warm day!" said Jock Gordon grimly, "but I'se do naething o' the +kind. I'll een bank up the fires an' gie ye a turn till ye're weel +brandered. Ye'll girn for mill-dams then, I'm thinkin'!" + +So, grumbling and threatening in his well-accustomed manner, Jock +Gordon returned to the wakeful silence which he kept during the +hours usually given to sleep. It was said, however, that he never +really slept. Indeed, Ebie and Jock were ready to take their oath +that they never went up and down that wooden ladder, from which +three of the rounds were missing, without seeing Jock Gordon's +eyes shining like a cat's out of the dark of the manger where, +like an ape, he sat all night cross-legged. + +CHAPTEK XXII. + +A SCARLET POPPY. + +IT was early afternoon at Craig Ronald. Afternoon is quite a +different time from morning at a farm. Afternoon is slack-water in +the duties of the house, at least for the womenfolk--except in hay +and harvest, when it is full flood tide all the time, night and +day. But when we consider that the life of a farm town begins +about four in the morning, it will be readily seen that afternoon +comes far on in the day indeed for such as have tasted the +freshness of the morning. + +In the morning, Winsome had seen that every part of her farm +machinery was going upon well-oiled wheels. She had consulted her +honorary factor, who, though a middle-aged man and a bachelor of +long and honourable standing, enrolled himself openly and avowedly +in the army of Winsome's admirers. He used to ask every day what +additions had been made to the list of her conquests, and took +much interest in the details of her costume. This last she mostly +devised for herself with taste which was really a gift natural to +her, but which seemed nothing less than miraculous to the maidens +and wives of a parish which had its dressmaking done according to +the canons of an art which the Misses Crumbcloth, mantua-makers at +the Dullarg village, had learned twenty-five years before, once +for all. + +Now it was afternoon, and Winsome was once more at the bake-board. +There were few things that Winsome liked better to do, and she +daily tried the beauty of her complexion before the open +fireplace, though her grandmother ineffectually suggested that Meg +Kissock would do just as well. + +While Winsome was rubbing her hands with dry meal, before +beginning, she became conscious that some one was coming up the +drive. So she was not at all astonished when a loud knock in the +stillness of the afternoon echoed through the empty house and far +down the stone passages. + +It was Ralph Peden who knocked, as indeed she did not need to tell +herself. She called, however, to Meg Kissock. + +"Meg," she said, "there is the young minister come to see my +grandmother. Go and show him into the parlour." + +Meg looked at her mistress. Her reply was irrelevant. "I was born +on a Friday," she said. + +But notwithstanding she went, and received the young man. She took +him into the parlour, where he was set down among strange voluted +foreign shells with a pink flush within the wide mouth of every +one of them. Here there was a scent of lavender and subtle +essences in the air, and a great stillness. While he sat waiting, +he could hear afar off the sound of rippling water. It struck a +little chill over him that, after the letter he had sent, Winsome +should not have come to greet him herself. From this he argued the +worst. She might be offended, or--still more fatal thought--she +and Meg might be laughing over it together. + +A tall, slim girl entered the quiet parlour with a silent, catlike +tread. She was at his side before he knew it. It was the girl whom +he had met on his way to the Manse the first day of his arrival. +Jess's experience as a maid to her ladyship has stood her in good +stead. She had a fineness of build which even the housework of a +farm could not coarsen. Besides, Winsome considered Jess delicate, +and did not allow her to lift anything really heavy. So it +happened that when Ralph Peden came Jess was putting the fresh +flowers in the great bowls of low relief chinaware--roses from +the garden and sprays of white hawthorn, which flowers late in +Galloway, blue hyacinths and harebells massed together--yellow +marigolds and glorious scarlet poppies, of which Jess with her +taste of the savage was passionately fond. She had arranged some +of these against a pale blue background of bunches of forget-me- +nots, with an effect strangely striking in that cool, dusky room. + +When Jess came in Ralph had risen instinctively. He shook hands +heartily with her. As she looked up at him, she said: + +"Do you remember me?" + +Ralph replied with an eager frankness, all the more marked that he +had expected Winsome instead of Jess Kissock: "Indeed, how could I +forget, when you helped me to carry my books that night? I am glad +to find you here. I had no idea that you lived here." + +Which was indeed true, for he had not yet been able to grasp the +idea that any but Winsome lived at Craig Ronald. + +Jess Kissock, who knew that not many moments were hers before Meg +might come in, replied: + +"I am here to help with the house. Meg Kissock is my sister." She +looked to see if there was anything in Ralph's eyes she could +resent; but a son of the Marrow kirk had not been trained to +respect of persons. + +"I am sure you will help very much," he said, politely. + +"I'm not as strong as my sister, you see, so that I'm generally in +the house," said Jess, who was carrying two dishes of flowers at +once across the room. At Ralph's feet one of them overset, and +poured all its wealth of blue and white and splashed crimson over +the floor. + +Jess stooped to lift them, crying shame on her own awkwardness. +Ralph kindly assisted her. As they stooped to gather them +together, Jess put forward all her attractions. Her lithe grace +never showed to more advantage. Yet, for all the impression she +made on Ralph, she might as well have wasted her sweetness on Jock +Gordon--indeed, better so, for Jock recognized in her something +strangely kin to his own wayward spirit. + +When the flowers were all gathered and put back: + +"Now you shall have one for helping," said Jess, as she had once +seen a lady in England do, and she selected a dark-red, velvety +damask rose from the wealth which she had cut and brought out of +the garden. Standing on tiptoe, she could scarcely reach his +button-hole. + +"Bend down," she said. Obediently Ralph bent, good-humouredly +patient, to please this girl who had done him a good turn on that +day which now seemed so far away--the day that had brought Craig +Ronald and Winsome into his life. + +But in spite of his stooping, Jess had some difficulty in pinning +in the rose, and in order to steady herself on tiptoe, she reached +up and laid a staying hand on his shoulder. As he bent down, his +face just touched the crisp fringes of her dark hair, which seemed +a strange thing to him. + +But a sense of another presence in the room caused him to raise +his eyes, and there in the doorway stood Winsome Charteris, +looking so pale and cold that she seemed to be a thousand miles +away. + +"I bid you good-afternoon, Master Peden," said Winsome quietly; "I +am glad you have had time to come and visit my grandmother. She +will be glad to see you." + +For some moments Ralph had no words to answer. As for Jess, she +did not even colour; she simply withdrew with the quickness and +feline grace which were characteristic of her, without a flush or +a tremor. It was not on such occasions that her heart stirred. +When she was gone she felt that things had gone well, even beyond +her expectation. + +When Ralph at last found his voice, he said somewhat falteringly, +yet with a ring of honesty in his voice which for the time being +was lost upon Winsome: + +"You are not angry with me for coming to-day. You knew I would +come, did you not?" + +Winsome only said: "My grandmother is waiting for me. You had +better go in at once." + +"Winsome," said Ralph, trying to prolong the period of his +converse with her, "you are not angry with me for writing what I +did?" + +Winsome thought that he was referring to the poem which had come +to her by way of Manse Bell and Saunders Mowdiewort. She was +indignant that he should try to turn the tables upon her and so +make her feel guilty. + +"I received nothing that I had any right to keep," she said. + +Ralph was silent. The blow was a complete one. She did not wish +him to write to her any more or to speak to her on the old terms +of friendship. He thought wholly of the letter that he had sent by +Saunders the day before, and her coldness and changed attitude +were set down by him to that cause, and not to the embarrassing +position in which Winsome had surprised him when she came into the +flower-strewn parlour. He did not know that the one thing a woman +never really forgives is a false position, and that even the best +of women in such cases think the most unjust things. Winsome moved +towards the inner door of her grandmother's room. + +Ralph put out his hand as if to touch hers, but Winsome withdrew +herself with a swift, fierce movement, and held the door open for +him to pass in. He had no alternative but to obey. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +CONCERNING JOHN BAIRDIESON. + + +"Guid e'en to ye, Maister Ralph," said the gay old lady within, as +soon as she caught sight of Ralph. "Keep up yer heid, man, an' +walk like a Gilchrist. Ye look as dowie as a yow [ewe] that has +lost her lammie." + +Walter Skirving from his arm-chair gave this time no look of +recognition. He yielded his hand to Ralph, who raised it clay- +chill and heavy even in the act to shake. When he let it drop, the +old man held up his palm and looked at it. + +"Hae ye gotten aneuch guid Gallawa' lear to learn ye no to rin awa +frae a bonny lass yet, Maister Ralph?" said the old lady briskly. +She had not many jokes save with Winsome and Meg, and she rode one +hard when she came by it. + +But no reply was needed. + +"Aye, aye, weelna," meditated the old lady, leaning back and +folding her hands like a mediaeval saint of worldly tendencies, +"tell me aboot your faither." "He is very robust and strong in +health of body," said Kalph. + +"Ye leeve in Edinbra'?" said the old lady, with a rising +inflection of inquiry. + +"Yes," said Ralph, "we live in James's Court. My father likes to +be among his people." + +"Faith na, a hantle o' braw folk hae leeved in James's Court in +their time. I mind o' the Leddy Partan an' Mistress Girnigo, the +king's jeweller's wife haein' a fair even-doon fecht a' aboot wha +was to hae the pick o' the hooses on the stair.--Winifred, ma +lassie, come here an' sit doon! Dinna gang flichterin' in an' oot, +but bide still an' listen to what Maister Peden has to tell us +aboot his farther." + +Winsome came somewhat slowly and reluctantly towards the side of +her grandmother's chair. There she sat holding her hand, and +looking across the room towards the window where, motionless and +abstracted, Walter Skirving, who was once so bold and strong, +dreamed his life away. + +"I hardly know what to tell you first," said Ralph, hesitatingly. + +"Hoot, tell me gin your faither and you bide thegither withoot ony +woman body, did I no hear that yince; is that the case na?" +demanded the lady of Craig Ronald with astonishing directness. + +"It is true enough," said Ralph, smiling, "but then we have with +us my father's old Minister's Man, John Bairdieson. John has us +both in hands and keeps us under fine. He was once a sailor, and +cook on a vessel in his wild days; but when he was converted by +falling from the top of a main yard into a dock (as he tells +himself), he took the faith in a somewhat extreme form. But that +does not affect his cooking. He is as good as a woman in a house." + +"An' that's a lee," said the old lady. "The best man's no as guid +as the warst woman in a hoose!" + +Winsome did not appear to be listening. Of what interest could +such things be to her? + +Her grandmother was by no means satisfied with Ralph's report. +"But that's nae Christian way for folk to leeve, withoot a woman +o' ony kind i' the hoose--it's hardly human!" + +"But I can assure you, Mistress Skirving, that, in spite of what +you say, John Bairdieson does very well for us. He is, however, +terribly jealous of women coming about. He does not allow one of +them within the doors. He regards them fixedly through the keyhole +before opening, and when he does open, his usual greeting to them +is, 'Noo get yer message dune an' be gaun!'" + +The lady of Craig Ronald laughed a hearty laugh. + +"Gin I cam' to veesit ye I wad learn him mainners! But what does +he do," she continued, "when some of the dames of good standing in +the congregation call on your faither? Does he treat them in this +cavalier way?" + +"In that case," said Ralph, "John listens at my father's door to +hear if he is stirring. If there be no sign, John says, 'The +minister's no in, mem, an' I could not say for certain when he +wull be!' Once my father came out and caught him in the act, and +when he charged John with telling a deliberate lie to a lady, John +replied, 'A'weel, it'll tak' a lang while afore we mak' up for the +aipple!'" + +It is believed that John Bairdieson here refers to Eve's fatal +gift to Adam. + +"John Bairdieson is an ungallant man. It'll be from him that ye +learned to rin awa'," retorted the old lady. + +"Grandmother," interrupted Winsome, who had suffered quite enough +from this, "Master Peden has come to see you, and to ask how you +find yourself to-day." + +"Aye, aye, belike, belike--but Maister Ralph Peden has the power +o' his tongue, an' gin that be his errand he can say as muckle for +himsel'. Young fowk are whiles rale offcecious!" she said, turning +to Ralph with the air of an appeal to an equal from the +unaccountabilities of a child. + +Winsome lifted some stray flowers that Jess Kissock had dropped +when she sped out of the room, and threw them out of the window +with an air of disdain. This to some extent relieved her, and she +felt better. It surprised Ralph, however, who, being wholly +innocent and unembarrassed by the recent occurrence, wondered +vaguely why she did it. + +"Noo tell me mair aboot your faither," continued Mistress +Skirving. "I canna mak' oot whaur the Marrow pairt o' ye comes in +--I suppose when ye tak' to rinnin' awa'." + +"Grandmammy, your pillows are not comfortable; let me sort them +for you." + +Winsome rose and touched the old lady's surroundings in a manner +that to Ralph was suggestive of angels turning over the white- +bosomed clouds. Then Ralph looked at his pleasant querist to find +out if he were expected to go on. The old lady nodded to him with +an affectionate look. + +"Well," said Ralph, "my father is like nobody else. I have missed +my mother, of course, but my father has been like a mother for +tenderness to me." + +"Yer grandfaither, auld Ralph Gilchrist, was sore missed. There +was thanksgiving in the parish for three days after he died!" said +the old lady by way of an anticlimax. + +Winsome looked very much as if she wished to say something, which +brought down her grandmother's wrath upon her. + +"Noo, lassie, is't you or me that's haein' a veesit frae this +young man? Ye telled me juist the noo that he had come to see me. +Then juist let us caa' oor cracks, an' say oor says in peace." + +Thus admonished, Winsome was silent. But for the first time she +looked at Ralph with a smile that had half an understanding in it, +which made that yonng man's heart leap. He answered quite at +random for the next few moments. + +"About my father--yes, he always takes up the Bibles when John +Bairdieson preaches." + +"What!" said the old lady. + +"I mean, John Bairdieson takes up the Bibles for him when he +preaches, and as he shuts the door, John says over the railing in +a whisper,'Noo, dinna be losin' the Psalms, as ye did this day +three weeks'; or perhaps,'Be canny on this side o' the poopit; the +hinge is juist pitten on wi' potty [putty];' whiles John will walk +half-way down the kirk, and then turn to see if my father has sat +quietly down according to instructions. This John has always done +since the day when some inward communing overcame my father before +he began his sermon, and he stood up in the pulpit without saying +a word till the people thought that he was in direct communion +with the Almighty." + +"There was nane o' thae fine abstractions aboot your grandfaither, +Ralph Gilchrist--na, whiles he was taen sae that he couldna speak +he was that mad, an' aye he gat redder an' redder i' the face, +till yince he gat vent, and then the ill words ran frae him like +the Skyreburn [Footnote: A Galloway mountain stream noted for +sudden floods.] in spate." + +"What else did John Bairdieson say to yer faither?" asked Winsome, +for the first time that day speaking humanly to Ralph. + +That young man looked gratefully at her, as if she had suddenly +dowered him with a fortune. Then he paused to try (because he was +very young and foolish) to account for the unaccountability of +womankind. + +He endeavoured to recollect what it was that he had said and what +John Bairdieson had said, but with indifferent success. He could +not remember what he was talking about. + +"John Bairdieson said--John Bairdieson said--It has clean gone out +of my mind what John Bairdieson said," replied Ralph with much +shamefacedness. + +The old lady looked at him approvingly. "Ye're no a Whig. There's +guid bluid in ye," she said, irrelevantly. + +"Yes, I do remember now," broke in Ralph eagerly. "I remember what +John Bairdieson said. 'Sit doon, minister,' he said, 'gin yer +ready to flee up to the blue bauks'" [rafters--said of hens going +to rest at nights]; "'there's a heap o' folk in this congregation +that's no juist sae ready yet.'" + +Ralph saw that Winsome and her grandmother were both genuinely +interested in his father. + +"Ye maun mind that I yince kenned yer faither as weel as e'er I +kenned a son o' mine, though it's mony an' mony a year sin' he was +i' this hoose." Winsome looked curiously at her grandmother. "Aye, +lassie," she said, "ye may look an' look, but the faither o' him +there cam as near to bein' your ain faither--" + +Walter Skirving, swathed in his chair, turned his solemn and awful +face from the window, as though called back to life by his wife's +words. "Silence, woman!" he thundered. + +But Mistress Skirving did not look in the least put out; only she +was discreetly silent for a minute or two after her husband had +spoken, as was her wont, and then she proceeded: + +"Aye, brawly I kenned Gilbert Peden, when he used to come in at +that door, wi' his black curls ower his broo as crisp an' bonny as +his son's the day." + +Winsome looked at the door with an air of interest. "Did he come +to see you, grandmammy?" she asked. + +"Aye, aye, what else?--juist as muckle as this young man here +comes to see me. I had the word o' baith o' them for't. Ralph +Peden says that he comes to see me, an' sae did the faither o' +him--" + +Again Mistress Skirving paused, for she was aware that her husband +had turned on her one of his silent looks. + +"Drive on aboot yer faither an' John Rorrison," she said; "it's +verra entertainin'." + +"Bairdieson," said Winsome, correctingly. + +Ralph, now reassured that he was interesting Winsome as well, went +on more briskly. Winsome had slipped down beside her grandmother, +and had laid her arm across her grandmother's knees till the full +curve of her breast touched the spare outlines of the elder woman. +Ralph wondered if Winsome would ever in the years to come be like +her grandmother. He thought that he could love her a thousand +times more then. + +"My father," said Ralph, "is a man much beloved by his +congregation, for he is a very father to them in all their +troubles; but they give him a kind of adoration in return that +would not be good for any other kind of man except my father. They +think him no less than infallible. 'Dinna mak' a god o' yer +minister,' he tells them, but they do it all the same." + +Winsome looked as if she did not wonder. + +"When I kenned yer faither," said the old dame, "he wad hae been +nocht the waur o' a pickle mair o' the auld Adam in him. It's a +rale usefu' commodity in this life--" + +"Why, grandmother--" began Winsome. + +"Noo, lassie, wull ye haud yer tongue? I'm sair deeved wi' the din +o' ye! Is there ony yae thing that a body may say withoot bern' +interruptit? Gin it's no you wi' yer 'Grandmither!' like a +cheepin' mavis, it's him ower by lookin' as if ye had dung doon +the Bible an' selled yersel' to Sawtan. I never was in sic a +hoose. A body canna get their tongue rinnin' easy an' comfortable +like, but it's 'Woman, silence!' in a yoice as graund an' awfu' as +'The Lord said unto Moses'--or else you wi' yer Englishy peepin' +tongue, 'Gran'mither!' as terrible shockit like as if a body were +gaun intil the kirk on Sabbath wi' their stockin's doon aboot +their ankles!" + +The little outburst seemed mightily to relieve the old lady. +Neither of the guilty persons made any signs, save that Winsome +extended her elbow across her grandmother's knee, and poised a +dimpled chin on her hand, smiling as placidly and contentedly as +if her relative's words had been an outburst of admiration. The +old woman looked sternly at her for a moment. Then she relented, +and her hand stole among the girl's clustering curls. The little +burst of temper gave way to a semi-humorous look of feigned +sternness. + +"Ye're a thankless madam," she said, shaking her white-capped +head; "maybe ye think that the fifth commandment says nocht aboot +grandmithers; but ye'll be tamed some day, my woman. Mony's the +gamesome an' hellicat [madcap] lassie that I hae seen brocht to +hersel', an' her wings clippit like a sea-gull's i' the yaird, +tethered by the fit wi' a family o' ten or a dizzen--" + +Winsome rose and marched out of the room with all the dignity of +offended youth at the suggestion. The old lady laughed a hearty +laugh, in which, however, Ralph did not join. + +"Sae fine an' Englishy the ways o' folk noo," she went on; "ye +mauna say this, ye mauna mention that; dear sirse me, I canna mind +them a'. I'm ower auld a Pussy Bawdrous to learn new tricks o' +sayin' 'miauw' to the kittlins. But for a' that an' a' that, I +haena noticed that the young folk are mair particular aboot what +they do nor they waur fifty years since. Na, but they're that nice +they manna say this and they canna hear that." + +The old lady had got so far when by the sound of retreating +footsteps she judged that Winsome was out of hearing. Instantly +she changed her tone. + +"But, young man," she said, shaking her finger at him as if she +expected a contradiction, "mind you, there's no a lass i' twunty +parishes like this lassie o' mine. An' dinna think that me an' my +guidman dinna ken brawly what's bringin' ye to Craig Ronald. Noo, +it's richt an' better nor richt--for ye're yer faither's son, an' +we baith wuss ye weel. But mind you that there's sorrow comin' to +us a'. Him an' me here has had oor sorrows i' the past, deep +buried for mair nor twenty year." + +"I thank you with all my heart," said Ralph, earnestly. "I need +not tell you, after what I have said, that I would lay my life +down as a very little thing to pleasure Winsome Charteris. I love +her as I never thought that woman could be loved, and I am not the +kind to change." + +"The faither o' ye didna change, though his faither garred him +mairry a Gilchrist-an' a guid bit lass she was. But for a' that he +didna change. Na, weel do I ken that he didna change." + +"But," continued Ralph, "I have no reason in the world to imagine +that Winsome thinks a thought about me. On the contrary, I have +some reason to fear that she dislikes my person; and I would not +be troublesome to her--" + +"Hoot toot! laddie, dinna let the Whig bluid mak' a pulin' bairn +o' ye. Surely ye dinna expect a lass o' speerit to jump at the +thocht o' ye, or drap intil yer moo' like a black-ripe cherry aff +a tree i' the orchard. Gae wa' wi' ye, man! what does a blithe +young man o' mettle want wi' encouragement--encouragement, fie!" + +"Perhaps you can tell me--" faltered Ralph. "I thought--" + +"Na, na, I can tell ye naething; ye maun juist find oot for +yersel', as a young man should. Only this I wull say, it's only a +cauldrife Whigamore that wad tak' 'No' for an answer. Mind ye that +gin the forbears o' the daddy o' ye was on the wrang side o' +Bothwell Brig that day--an' guid Westland bluid they spilt, nae +doot, Whigs though they waur--there's that in ye that rode doon +the West Port wi' Clavers, an' cried: + + 'Up wi' the bonnets o' bonny Dundee!'" + +"I know," said Ralph with some of the stiff sententiousness which +he had not yet got rid of, "that I am not worthy of your +granddaughter in any respect--" + +"My certes, no," said the sharp-witted dame, "for ye're a man, an' +it's a guid blessin' that you men dinna get your deserts, or it +wad be a puir lookoot for the next generation, young man. Gae wa' +wi' ye, man; mind ye, I'll no' say a word in yer favour, but +raither the ither way--whilk," smiled Mistress Skirving in the +deep still way that she sometimes had in the midst of her +liveliness, "whilk will maybe do ye mair guid. But I'm speakin' +for my guid-man when I say that ye hae oor best guid-wull. We +think that ye are a true man, as yer faither was, though sorely he +was used by this hoose. It wad maybes be some amends," she added, +as if to herself. + +Then the dear old lady touched her eyes with a fine handkerchief +which she took out of a little black reticule basket on the table +by her side. + +As Ralph rose reverently and kissed her hand before retiring, +Walter Skirving motioned him near his chair. Then he drew him +downward till Ralph was bending on one knee. He laid a nerveless +heavy hand on the young man's head, and looked for a minute--which +seemed years to Ralph--very fixedly on his eyes. Then dropping his +hand and turning to the window, he drew a long, heavy breath. + +Ralph Peden rose and went out. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +LEGITIMATE SPORT. + + +As Ralph Peden went through the flower-decked parlour in which he +had met Jess Kissock an hour before, he heard the clang of +controversy, or perhaps it is more correct to say, he heard the +voice of Meg Kissock raised to its extreme pitch of command. + +"Certes, my lass, but ye'll no hoodwink me; ye hae dune no yae +thing this hale mornin' but wander athort [about] the hoose wi' +that basket o' flooers. Come you an' gie us a hand wi' the kirn +this meenit! Ye dinna gang a step oot o' the hoose the day!" + +Ralph did not think of it particularly at the time, but it was +probably owing to this utilitarian occupation that he did not +again see the attractive Jess on his way out. For, with all her +cleverness, Jess was afraid of Meg. + +Ralph passed through the yard to the gate which led to the hill. +He was wonderfully comforted in heart, and though Winsome had been +alternatively cold and kind, he was too new in the ways of girls +to be uplifted on that account, as a more experienced man might +have been. Still, the interview with the old people had done him +good. + +As he was crossing the brook which flows partly over and partly +under the road at the horse watering-place, he looked down into +the dell among the tangles of birch and the thick viscous foliage +of the green-berried elder. There he caught the flash of a light +dress, and as he climbed the opposite grassy bank on his way to +the village, he saw immediately beneath him the maiden of his +dreams and his love-verses. Now she leaped merrily from stone to +stone; now she bent stealthily over till her palms came together +in the water; now she paused to dash her hair back from her +flushed face. And all the time the water glimmered and sparkled +about her feet. With her was Andra Kissock, a bare-legged, +bonnetless squire of dames. Sometimes he pursued the wily burn +trout with relentless ferocity and the silent intentness of a +sleuthhound. Often, however, he would pause and with his finger +indicate some favourite stone to Winsome. Then the young lady, +utterly forgetful of all else and with tremulous eagerness, +delicately circumvented the red-spotted beauties. + +Once throwing her head back to clear the tumbling avalanches of +her hair, she chanced to see Ralph standing silent above. For a +moment Winsome was annoyed. She had gone to the hill brook with +Andra so that she might not need to speak further with Ralph +Peden, and here he had followed her. But it did not need a second +look to show her that he was infinitely more embarrassed than she. +This is the thing of all others which is fitted to make a woman +calm and collected. It allows her to take the measure of her +opportunity and assures her of her superiority. So, with a gay and +quipsome wave of the hand, in which Ralph was conscious of some +faint resemblance to her grandmother, she called to him: + +"Come down and help us to catch some trout for supper." + +Ralph descended, digging his heels determinedly into the steep +bank, till he found himself in the bed of the streamlet. Then he +looked at Winsome for an explanation. This was something he had +not practised in the water of Leith. Andra Kissock glared at him +with a terrible countenance, in which contempt was supposed to +blend with a sullen ferocity characteristic of the noble savage. +The effect was slightly marred by a black streak of mud which was +drawn from the angle of his mouth to the roots of his hair. Ralph +thought from his expression that trout-fishing of this kind did +not agree with him, and proposed to help Winsome instead of Andra. + +This proposal had the effect of drawing a melodramatic "Ha! ha!" +from that youth, ludicrously out of keeping with his usual +demeanour. Once he had seen a play-acting show unbeknown to his +mother, when Jess had taken him to Cairn Edward September fair. + +So "Ha! ha!" he said with the look of smothered desperation which +to the unprejudiced observer suggested a pain in his inside. "You +guddle troot!" he cried scornfully, "I wad admire to see ye! Ye +wad only fyle [dirty] yer shune an' yer braw breeks!" + +Ralph glanced at the striped underskirt over which Winsome had +looped her dress. It struck him with astonishment to note how she +had managed to keep it clean and dry, when Andra was apparently +wet to the neck. + +"I do not know that I shall be of any use," he said meekly, "but I +shall try." + +Winsome was standing poised on a stone, bending like a lithe maid, +her hands in the clear water. There had been a swift and noiseless +rush underneath the stone; a few grains of sand rose up where the +white under part of the trout had touched it as it glided beneath. +Slowly and imperceptibly Winsome's hand worked its way beneath the +stone. With the fingers of one hand she made that slight swirl of +the water which is supposed by expert "guddlers" to fascinate the +trout, and to render them incapable of resisting the beckoning +fingers. Andra watched breathlessly from the bank above. Ralph +came nearer to see the issue. The long, slender fingers, shining +mellow in the peaty water, were just closing, when the stone on +which Ralph was standing precariously toppled a little and fell +over into the burn with a splash. The trout darted out and in a +moment was down stream into the biggest pool for miles. + +Winsome rose with a flush of disappointment, and looked very +reproachfully towards the culprit. Ralph, who had followed the +stone, stood up to his knees in the water, looking the picture of +crestfallen humility. + +Overhead on the bank Andra danced madly like an imp. He would not +have dared to speak to Ralph on any other occasion, but guddling, +like curling, loosens the tongue. He who fails or causes the +failures of others is certain to hear very plainly of it from +those who accompany him to this very dramatic kind of fishing. + +"0' a' the stupid asses!" cried that young man. "Was there ever +sic a beauty?--a pund wecht gin it was an ounce!--an' to fa' aff +a stane like a six-months' wean!" + +His effective condemnation made Winsome laugh. Ralph laughed along +with her, which very much increased the anger of Andra, who turned +away in silent indignation. It was hard to think, just when he had +got the "prairie flower" of Craig Ronald (for whom he cherished a +romantic attachment of the most desperate and picturesque kind) +away from the house for a whole long afternoon at the fishing, +that this great grown-up lout should come this way and spoil all +his sport. Andra was moved to the extremity of scorn. + +"Hey, mon!" he called to Ralph, who was standing in the water's +edge with Winsome on a miniature bay of shining sand, looking down +on the limpid lapse of the clear moss-tinted water slipping over +its sand and pebbles--"hey, mon!" he cried. + +"Well, Andra, what is it?" asked Winsome Charteris, looking up +after a moment. She had been busy thinking. + +"Tell that chap frae Enbro'," said Andra, collecting all his +spleen into one tremendous and annihilating phrase--"him that +tummilt aff the stane--that there's a feck o' paddocks [a good +many frogs] up there i' the bog. He micht come up here an' guddle +for paddocks. It wad be safer for the like o' him!" The ironical +method is the favourite mode or vehicle of humour among the common +orders in Galloway. Andra was a master in it. + +"Andra," said Winsome warmly, "you must not--" + +"Please let him say whatever he likes. My awkwardness deserves it +all," said Ralph, with becoming meekness. + +"I think you had better go home now," said Winsome; "it will soon +be time for you to bring the kye home." + +"Hae ye aneuch troots for the mistress's denner?" said Andra, who +knew very well how many there were. + +"There are the four that you got, and the one I got beneath the +bank, Andra," answered Winsome. + +"Nane o' them half the size o' the yin that he fleyed [frightened] +frae ablow the big stane," said Andra Kissock, indicating the +culprit once more with the stubby great toe of his left foot. It +would have done Ralph too much honour to have pointed with his +hand. Besides, it was a way that Andrew had at all times. He +indicated persons and things with that part of him which was most +convenient at the time. He would point with his elbow stuck +sideways at an acute angle in a manner that was distinctly +libellous. He would do it menacingly with his head, and the +indication contemptuous of his left knee was a triumph. But the +finest and most conclusive use of all was his great toe as an +index-finger of scorn. It stuck out apart from all the others, red +and uncompromising, a conclusive affidavit of evil conduct. + +"It's near kye-time," again said Winsome, while Ralph yearned with +a great yearning for the boy to betake himself over the moor. But +Andra had no such intention. + +"I'se no gaun a fit till I hae showed ye baith what it is to +guddle. For ye mauna gang awa' to Embro" [elbow contemptuous to +the north, where Andra supposed Edinburgh to lie immediately on +the other side of the double-breasted swell of blue Cairnsmuir of +Carsphairn], "an' think that howkin' (wi' a lassie to help ye) in +among the gravel is guddlin'. You see here!" cried Andra, and +before either Winsome or Ralph could say a word, he had stripped +himself to his very brief breeches and ragged shirt, and was +wading into the deepest part of the pool beneath the water-fall. + +Here he scurried and scuttled for all the world like a dipper, +with his breast showing white like that of the bird, as he walked +along the bottom of the pool. Most of the time his head was +beneath the water, as well as all the rest of his body. His arms +bored their way round the intricacies of the boulders at the +bottom. His brown and freckled hands pursued the trouts beneath +the banks. Sometimes he would have one in each hand at the same +time. + +When he caught them he had a careless and reckless way of throwing +them up on the bank without looking where he was throwing. The +first one he threw in this way took effect on the cheek of Ralph +Peden, to his exceeding astonishment. + +Winsome again cried "Andra!" warningly, but Andra was far too busy +to listen; besides, it is not easy to hear with one's head under +water and the frightened trout flashing in lightning wimples +athwart the pool. + +But for all that, the fisherman's senses were acute, even under +the water; for as Winsome and Ralph were not very energetic in +catching the lively speckled beauties which found themselves so +unexpectedly frisking upon the green grass, one or two of them +(putting apparently their tails into their mouths, and letting go, +as with the release of a steel spring) turned a splashing +somersault into the pool. Andra did not seem to notice them as +they fell, but in a little while he looked up with a trout in his +hand, the peat-water running in bucketfuls from his hair and +shirt, his face full of indignation. + +"Ye're lettin' them back again!" he exclaimed, looking fiercely at +the trout in his hand. "This is the second time I hae catched this +yin wi' the wart on its tail!" he said. "D'ye think I'm catchin' +them for fun, or to gie them a change o' air for their healths, +like fine fowk that come frae Embro'!" + +"Andra, I will not allow--" Winsome began, who felt that on the +ground of Craig Ronald a guest of her grandmother's should be +respected. + +But before she had got further Andra was again under the water, +and again the trout began to rain out, taking occasional local +effect upon both of them. + +Finally Andra looked up with an air of triumph. "It tak's ye a' +yer time to grup them on the dry land, I'm thinkin'," said he with +some fine scorn; "ye had better try the paddocks. It's safer." So, +shaking himself like a water-dog, he climbed up on the grass, +where he collected the fish into a large fishing basket which +Winsome had brought. He looked them over and said, as he handled +one of them: + +"Oh, ye're there, are ye? I kenned I wad get ye some day, +impidence. Ye hae nae business i' this pool ony way. Ye belang +half a mile faurer up, my lad; ye'll bite aff nae mair o' my +heuks. There maun be three o' them i' his guts the noo--" + +Here Winsome looked a meaning look at him, upon which Andra said: + +"I'm juist gaun. Ye needna tell me that it's kye-time. See you an' +be hame to tak' in yer grannie's tea. Ye're mair likely to be +ahint yer time than me!" + +Haying sped this Parthian shaft, Andra betook himself over the +moor with his backful of spoil. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +BARRIERS BREAKING. + + +"Andra is completely spoiled," exclaimed Winsome; "he is a clever +boy, and I fear we have given him too much of his own will. Only +Jess can manage him." + +Winsome felt the reference to be somewhat unfortunate. It was, of +course, no matter to her whether a servant lass put a flower in +Ralph Peden's coat; though, even as she said it, she owned to +herself that Jess was different from other servant maids, both by +nature and that quickness of tongue which she had learned when +abroad. + +Still, the piquant resentment Winsome felt, gave just that touch, +of waywardness and caprice which was needed to make her altogether +charming to Ralph, whose acquaintance with women had been chiefly +with those of his father's flock, who buzzed about him everywhere +in a ferment of admiration. + +"Your feet are wet," said Winsome, with charming anxiety. + +Andra was assuredly now far over the moor. They had rounded the +jutting point of rock which shut in the linn, and were now walking +slowly along the burnside, with the misty sunlight shining upon +them, with a glistering and suffused green of fresh leaf sap in +its glow. So down that glen many lovers had walked before. + +Ralph's heart beat at the tone of Winsome's inquiry. He hastened +to assure her that, as a matter of personal liking, he rather +preferred to go with his feet wet in the summer season. + +"Do you know," said Winsome, confidingly, "that if I dared I would +run barefoot over the grass even yet. I remember to this day the +happiness of taking off my stockings when I came home from the +Keswick school, and racing over the fresh grass to feel the +daisies underfoot. I could do it yet." + +"Well, let us," said Ralph Peden, the student in divinity, +daringly. + +Winsome did not even glance up. Of course, she could not have +heard, or she would have been angry at the preposterous +suggestion. She thought awhile, and then said: + +"I think that, more than anything in the world, I love to sit by a +waterside and make stories and sing songs to the rustle of the +leaves as the wind sifts among them, and dream dreams all by +myself." + +Her eyes became very thoughtful. She seemed to be on the eve of +dreaming a dream now. + +Ralph felt he must go away. He was trespassing on the pleasaunce +of an angel. + +"What do you like most? What would you like best to do in all the +world?" she asked him. + +"To sit with you by the waterside and watch you dream," said +Ralph, whose education was proceeding by leaps and bounds. + +Winsome risked a glance at him, though well aware that it was +dangerous. + +"You are easily satisfied," she said; "then let us do it now." + +So Ralph and Winsome sat down like boy and girl on the fallen +trunk of a fir-tree, which lay across the water, and swung their +feet to the rhythm of the wimpling burn beneath. + +"I think you had better sit at the far side of that branch," said +Winsome, suspiciously, as Ralph, compelled by the exigencies of +the position, settled himself precariously near to her section of +the tree-trunk. + +"What is the matter with this?" asked Ralph, with an innocent +look. Now no one counterfeits innocence worse than a really +innocent man who attempts to be more innocent than he is. + +So Winsome looked at him with reproach in her eyes, and slowly she +shook her head. "It might do very well for Jess Kissock, but for +me it will balance better if you sit on the other side of the +branch. We can talk just as well." + +Ralph had thought no more of Jess Kissock and her flower from the +moment he had seen Winsome. Indeed, the posy had dropped +unregarded from his button-hole while he was gathering up the +trout. There it had lain till Winsome, who had seen it fall, +accidentally set her foot on it and stamped it into the grass. +This indicates, like a hand on a dial, the stage of her +prepossession. A day before she had nothing regarded a flower +given to Ralph Peden; and in a little while, when the long curve +has at last been turned, she will not regard it, though a hundred +women give flowers to the beloved. + +"I told you I should come," said Ralph, beginning the personal +tale which always waits at the door, whatever lovers may say when +they first meet. Winsome was meditating a conversation about the +scenery of the dell. She needed also some botanical information +which should aid her in the selection of plants for a herbarium. +But on this occasion Ralph was too quick for her. "I told you I +should come," said Ralph boldly, "and so you see I am here," he +concluded, rather lamely. + +"To see my grandmother," said Winsome, with a touch of archness in +her tone or in her look--Ralph could not tell which, though he +eyed her closely. He wished for the first time that the dark-brown +eyelashes which fringed her lids were not so long. He fancied +that, if he could only have seen the look in the eyes hidden +underneath, he might have risked changing to the other side of the +unkindly frontier of fir-bough which marked him off from the land +of promise on the farther side. + +But he could not see, and in a moment the chances were past. + +"Not only to see your grandmother, who has been very kind to me, +but also to see you, who have not been at all kind to me," +answered Ralph. + +"And pray, Master Ralph Peden, how have I not been kind to you?" +said Winsome with dignity, giving him the full benefit of a pair +of apparently reproachful eyes across the fir-branch. + +Now Ralph had strange impulses, and, like Winsome, certainly did +not talk by rule. + +"I do wish," he said complainingly, with his head a little to one +side, "that you would only look at me with one eye at a time. Two +like that are too much for a man." + +This is that same Ralph Peden whose opinions on woman were written +in a lost note-book which at this present moment is--we shall not +say where. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +SUCH SWEET PERIL. + + +Winsome looked away down the glen, and strove to harden her face +into a superhuman indignation. + +"That he should dare--the idea!" + +But it so happened that the idea so touched that rare gift of +humour, and the picture of herself looking at Ralph Peden solemnly +with one eye at a time, in order at once to spare his +susceptibilities and give the other a rest, was too much for her. +She laughed a peal of rippling merriment that sent all the +blackbirds indignant out of their copses at the infringement of +their prerogative. + +Ralph's humour was slower and a little grimmer than Winsome's, +whose sunny nature had blossomed out amid the merry life of the +woods and streams. But there was a sternness in both of them as +well, that was of the heather and the moss hags. And that would in +due time come out. It is now their day of love and bounding life. +And there are few people in this world who would not be glad to +sit just so at the opening of the flower of love. Indeed, it was +hardly necessary to tell one another. + +Laughter, say the French (who think that their l'amour is love, +and so will never know anything), kills love. But not the kind of +laughter that rang in the open dell which peeped like the end of a +great green-lined prospect glass upon the glimmering levels of +Loch Grannoch; nor yet the kind of love which in alternate +currents pulsed to and fro between the two young people who sat so +demurely on either side of the great, many-spiked fir-branch. + +"Is not this nice?" said Winsome, shrugging her shoulders +contentedly and swinging her feet. + +Their laughter made them better friends than before. The +responsive gladness in each other's eyes seemed part of the +midsummer stillness of the afternoon. Above, a red squirrel +dropped the husks of larch tassels upon them, and peered down upon +them with his bright eyes. He was thinking himself of household +duties, and had his own sweetheart safe at home, nestling in the +bowl of a great beech deep in the bowering wood by the loch. + +"I liked to hear you speak of your father to-day," said Winsome, +still swinging her feet girlishly. "It must be a great delight to +have a father to go to. I never remember father or mother." + +Her eyes were looking straight before her now, and a depth of +tender wistfulness in them went to Ralph's heart. He was beginning +to hate the branch. + +"My father," he said, "is often stern to others, but he has never +been stern to me--always helpful, full of tenderness and kindness. +Perhaps that is because I lost my mother almost before I can +remember." + +Winsome's wet eyes, with the lashes curving long over the under +side of the dark-blue iris, were turned full on him now with the +tenderness of a kindred pity. + +"Do you know I think that your father was once kind to my mother. +Grandmother began once to tell me, and then all at once would tell +me no more--I think because grandfather was there." + +"I did not know that my father ever knew your mother," answered +Ralph. + +"Of course, he would never tell you if he did," said the woman of +experience, sagely; "but grandmother has a portrait in an oval +miniature of your father as a young man, and my mother's name is +on the back of it." + +"Her maiden name?" queried Ralph. + +Winsome Charteris nodded. Then she said wistfully: "I wish I knew +all about it. I think it is very hard that grandmother will not +tell me!" + +Then, after a silence which a far-off cuckoo filled in with that +voice of his which grows slower and fainter as the midsummer heats +come on, Winsome said abruptly, "Is your father ever hard and-- +unkind?" + +Ralph started to his feet as if hastily to defend his father. +There was something in Winsome's eyes that made him sit down +again--something shining and tender and kind. + +"My father," he said, "is very silent and reserved, as I fear I +too have been till I came down here" (he meant to say, "Till I met +you, dear," but he could not manage it), "but he is never hard or +unkind, except perhaps on matters connected with the Marrow kirk +and its order and discipline. Then he becomes like a stone, and +has no pity for himself or any. I remember him once forbidding me +to come into the study, and compelling me to keep my own garret- +room for a month, for saying that I did not see much difference +between the Marrow kirk and the other kirks. But I am sure he +could never be unkind or hurtful to any one in the world. But why +do you ask, Mistress Winsome?" + +"Because--because--" she paused, looking down now, the underwells +of her sweet eyes brimming to the overflow--"because something +grandfather said once, when he was very ill, made me wonder if +your father had ever been unkind to my mother." + +Two great tears overflowed from under the dark lashes and ran down +Winsome's cheek. Ralph was on the right side of the branch now, +and, strangely enough, Winsome did not seem to notice it. He had a +lace-edged handkerchief in his hand which had been his mother's, +and all that was loving and chivalrous in his soul was stirred at +the sight of a woman's tears. He had never seen them before, and +there is nothing so thrilling in the world to a young man. Gently, +with a light, firm hand, he touched Winsome's cheek, instinctively +murmuring tenderness which no one had ever used to him since that +day long ago, when his mother had hung, with the love of a woman +who knows that she must give up all, over the cot of a boy whose +future she could not foresee. + +For a thrilling moment Winsome's golden coronet of curls touched +his breast, and, as he told himself after long years, rested +willingly there while his heart beat at least ten times. +Unfortunately, it did not take long to beat ten times. + +One moment more, and without any doubt Ralph would have taken +Winsome in his arms. But the girl, with that inevitable instinct +which tells a woman when her waist or her lips are in danger-- +matters upon which no woman is ever taken by surprise, whatever +she may pretend--drew quietly back. The time was not yet. + +"Indeed, you must not, you must not think of me. You must go away. +You know that there are only pain and danger before us if you come +to see me any more." + +"Indeed, I do not know anything of the kind. I am sure that my +father could never be unkind to any creature, and I am certain +that he was not to your mother. But what has he to do with us, +Winsome?" + +Her name sounded so perilously sweet to her, said thus in Ralph's +low voice, that once again her eyes met his in that full, steady +gaze which tells heart secrets and brings either life-long joys or +unending regrets. Nor--as we look--can we tell which? + +"I cannot speak to you now, Ralph," she said, "but I know that you +ought not to come to see me any more. There must be something +strange and wicked about me. I feel that there is a cloud over me, +Ralph, and I do not want you to come under it." + +At the first mention of his name from the lips of his beloved, +Ralph drew very close to her, with that instinctive drawing which +he was now experiencing. It was that irresistible first love of a +man who has never wasted himself even on the harmless flirtations +which are said to be the embassies of love. + +But Winsome moved away from him, walking down towards the mouth of +the linn, through the thickly wooded glen, and underneath the +overarching trees, with their enlacing lattice-work of curving +boughs. + +"It is better not," she said, almost pleadingly, for her strength +was failing her. She almost begged him to be merciful. + +"But you believe that I love you, Winsome?" he persisted. + +Low in her heart of hearts Winsome believed it. Her ear drank in +every word. She was silent only because she was thirsty to hear +more. But Ralph feared that he had fatally offended her. + +"Are you angry with me, Winsome?" he said, bending from his +masculine height to look under the lilac sunbonnet. + +Winsome shook her head. "Not angry, Ralph, only sorry to the +heart." + +She stopped and turned round to him. She held out a hand, when +Ralph took it in both of his. There was in the touch a +determination to keep the barriers slight but sure between them. +He felt it and understood. + +"Listen, Ralph," she said, looking at him with shining eyes, in +which another man would have read the love, "I want you to +understand. There is a fate about those who love me. My mother +died long ago; my father I never knew; my grandfather and +grandmother are--what you know, because of me; Mr. Welsh, at the +Manse, who used to love me and pet me when I was a little girl, +now does not speak to me. There is a dark cloud all about me!" +said Winsome sadly, yet bravely and determinedly. + +Yet she looked as bright and sunshiny as her own name, as if God +had just finished creating her that minute, and had left the +Sabbath silence of thanksgiving in her eyes. Ralph Peden may be +forgiven if he did not attend much to what she said. As long as +Winsome was in the world, he would love her just the same, +whatever she said. + +"What the cloud is I cannot tell," she went on; "but my +grandfather once said that it would break on whoever loved me-- +and--and I do not want that one to be you." + +Ralph, who had kept her hand a willing prisoner, close and warm in +his, would have come nearer to her. + +He said: "Winsome, dear" (the insidious wretch! he thought that, +because she was crying, she would not notice the addition, but she +did)--"Winsome, dear, if there be a cloud, it is better that it +should break over two than over one." + +"But not over you," she said, with a soft accent, which should +have been enough, for any one, but foolish Ralph was already fixed +on his own next words: + +"If you have few to love you, let me be the one who will love you +all the time and altogether. I am not afraid; there will be two of +us against the world, dear." + +Winsome faltered. She had not been wooed after this manner before. +It was perilously sweet. Little ticking pulses beat in her head. A +great yearning came to her to let herself drift up on a sea of +love. That love of giving up all, which is the precious privilege, +the saving dowry or utter undoing of women, surged in upon her +heart. + +She drew away her hand, not quickly, but slowly and firmly, and as +if she meant it. "I have come to a decision--I have made a vow," +she said. She paused, and looked at Ralph a little defiantly, +hoping that he would take the law into his own hands, and forbid +the decision and disallow the vow. + +But Ralph was not yet enterprising enough, and took her words a +little too seriously. He only stood looking at her and waiting, as +if her decision were to settle the fate of kingdoms. + +Then Winsome emitted the declaration which has been so often made, +at which even the more academic divinities are said to smile, "I +am resolved never to marry!" + +An older man would have laughed. He might probably have heard +something like this before. But Ralph had no such experience, and +he bowed his head as to an invincible fate--for which stupidity +Winsome's grandmother would have boxed his ears. + +"But I may still love you, Winsome?" he said, very quietly and +gently. + +"Oh, no, you must not--you must not love me! Indeed, you must not +think of me any more. You must go away." + +"Go away I can and will, if you say so, Winsome; but even you do +not believe that I can forget you when I like." + +"And you will go away?" said Winsome, looking at him with eyes +that would have chained a Stoic philosopher to the spot. + +"Yes," said Ralph, perjuring his intentions. + +"And you will not try to see me any more--you promise?" she added, +a little spiteful at the readiness with which he gave his word. + +So Ralph made a promise. He succeeded in keeping it just twenty- +four hours--which was, on the whole, very creditable, considering. + +What else he might have promised we cannot tell--certainly +anything else asked of him so long as Winsome continued to look at +him. + +Those who have never made just such promises, or listened to them +being made--occupations equally blissful and equally vain--had +better pass this chapter by. It is not for the uninitiated. But it +is true, nevertheless. + +So in silence they walked down to the opening of the glen. As they +turned into the broad expanse of glorious sunshine the shadows +were beginning to slant towards them. Loch Grannoch was darkening +into pearl grey, under the lee of the hill. Down by the high- +backed bridge, which sprang at a bound over the narrows of the +lane, there was a black patch on the greensward, and the tripod of +the gipsy pot could faintly be distinguished. + +Ralph, who had resumed Winsome's hand as a right, pointed it out. +It is strange how quickly pleasant little fashions of that kind +tend to perpetuate themselves! + +As Winsome's grandmother would have said, "It's no easy turnin' a +coo when she gets the gate o' the corn." + +Winsome looked at the green patch and the dark spot upon it. "Tell +me," she said, looking up at him, "why you ran away that day?" + +Ralph Peden was nothing if not frank. "Because," he said, "I +thought you were going to take off your stockings!" + +Through the melancholy forebodings which Winsome had so recently +exhibited there rose the contagious blossom of mirth, that never +could be long away even from such a fate-harassed creature as +Winsome Charteris considered herself to be. "Poor fellow," she +said, "you must indeed have been terribly frightened!" + +"I was," said Ralph Peden, with conviction. "But I do not think I +should feel quite the same about it now!" + +They walked silently to the foot of the Craig Ronald loaning, +where by mutual consent they paused. + +Winsome's hand was still in Ralph's. She had forgotten to take it +away. She was, however, still resolved to do her duty. + +"Now you are sure you are not going to think of me any more?" she +asked. + +"Quite sure," said Ralph, promptly. + +Winsome looked a little disappointed at the readiness of the +answer. "And you won't try to see me any more?" she asked, +plaintively. + +"Certainly not," replied Ralph, who had some new ideas. + +Winsome looked still more disappointed. This was not what she had +expected. + +"Yes," said Ralph, "because I shall not need to think of you +again, for I shall never stop thinking of you; and I shall not try +to see you again, because I know I shall. I shall go away, but I +shall come back again; and I shall never give you up, though every +friend forbid and every cloud in the heavens break!" + +The gladness broke into his love's face in spite of all her +gallant determination. + +"But remember," said Winsome, "I am never going to marry. On that +point I am quite determined." + +"You can forbid me marrying you, Winsome dear," said Ralph, "but +you cannot help me loving you." + +Indeed on this occasion and on this point of controversy Winsome +did not betray any burning desire to contradict him. She gave him +her hand--still with the withholding power in it, however, which +told Ralph that his hour was not yet come. + +He bowed and kissed it--once, twice, thrice. And to him who had +never kissed woman before in the way of love, it was more than +many caresses to one more accustomed. + +Then she took her way, carrying her hand by her side tingling with +consciousness. It seemed as if Ebie Farrish, who was at the +watering-stone as she passed, could read what was written upon it +as plain as an advertisement. She put it, therefore, into the +lilac sunbonnet and so passed by. + +Ralph watched her as she glided, a tall and graceful young figure, +under the archway of the trees, till he could no longer see her +light dress glimmering through the glades of the scattered oaks. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +THE OPINIONS OF SAUNDERS MOWDIEWORT UPON BESOMSHANKS. + + +Ralph Peden kept his promise just twenty-four hours, which under +the circumstances was an excellent performance. That evening, on +his return to the manse, Manse Bell handed him, with a fine +affectation of unconcern, a letter with the Edinburgh post-mark, +which had been brought with tenpence to pay, from Cairn Edward. +Manse Bell was a smallish, sharp-tongued woman of forty, with her +eyes very close together. She was renowned throughout the country +for her cooking and her temper, the approved excellence of the one +being supposed to make up for the difficult nature of the other. + +The letter was from his father. It began with many inquiries as to +his progress in the special studies to which he had been devoting +himself. Then came many counsels as to avoiding all entanglements +with the erroneous views of Socinians, Erastians, and Pelagians In +conclusion, a day was suggested on which it would be convenient +for the presbytery of the Marrow kirk to meet in Edinburgh in +order to put Ralph through his trials for license. Then it was +that Ralph Peden felt a tingling sense of shame. Not only had he +to a great extent forgotten to prepare himself for his +examinations, which would be no great difficulty to a college +scholar of his standing, but unconsciously to himself his mind had +slackened its interest in his licensing. The Marrow kirk had +receded from him as the land falls back from a ship which puts out +to sea, swiftly and silently. He was conscious that he had paid +far more attention to his growing volume of poems than he had done +to his discourses for license; though indeed of late he had given +little attention to either. + +He went up-stairs and looked vaguely at his books. He found that +it was only by an effort that he could at all think himself into +the old Ralph, who had shaken his head at Calvin under the broom- +bush by the Grannoch Water. Sharp penitence rode hard upon Ralph's +conscience. He sat down among his neglected books. From these he +did not rise till the morning fully broke. At last he lay down on +the bed, after looking long at the ridge of pines which stood +sharp up against the morning sky, behind which Craig Ronald lay. +Then the underlying pang, which he had been crushing down by the +night's work among the Hebrew roots, came triumphantly to the +surface. He must leave the manse of Dullarg, and with it that +solitary white farmhouse on the braeface, the orchard at the back +of it, and the rose-clambered gable from which a dear window +looked down the valley of the Grannoch, and up to the heathery +brow of the Crae Hill. + +So, unrefreshed, yet unconscious of the need of any refreshment, +Ralph Peden rose and took his place at the manse table. + +"I saw your candle late yestreen," said the minister, pausing to +look at the young man over the wooden platter of porridge which +formed the frugal and sufficient breakfast of the two. + +Porridge for breakfast and porridge for supper are the cure-alls +of the true Galloway man. It is not every Scot who stands through +all temptation so square in the right way as morning and night to +confine himself to these; but he who does so shall have his reward +in a rare sanity of judgment and lightness of spirit, and a +capacity for work unknown to countrymen of less Spartan habit. + +So Ralph answered, looking over his own "cogfu' o' brose" as Manse +Bell called them, "I was reading the book of Joel for the second +time." + +"Then you have," said the minister, "finished your studies in the +Scripture character of the truly good woman of the Proverbs, with +which you were engaged on your first coming here?" + +"I have not quite finished," said Ralph, looking a little +strangely at the minister. + +"You ought always to finish one subject before you begin another," +said Mr. Welsh, with a certain slow sententiousness. + +By-and-bye Ralph got away from the table, and in the silence of +his own room gave himself to a repentant and self-accusing day of +study. Remorsefully sad, with many searchings of heart, he +questioned whether indeed he were fit for the high office of +minister in the kirk of the Marrow; whether he could now accept +that narrow creed, and take up alone the burden of these manifold +protestings. It was for this that he had been educated; it was for +this that he had been given his place at his father's desk since +ever he could remember. + +Here he had studied in the far-off days of his boyhood strange +deep books, the flavour of which only he retained. He had learned +his letters out of the Bible--the Old Testament. He had gone +through the Psalms from beginning to end before he was six. He +remembered that the paraphrases were torn out of all the Bibles in +the manse. Indeed, they existed only in a rudimentary form even in +the great Bible in the kirk (in which by some oversight a heathen +binder had bound them), but Allan Welsh had rectified this by +pasting them up, so that no preacher in a moment of demoniac +possession might give one out. What would have happened if this +had occurred in the Marrow kirk it is perhaps better only +guessing. At twelve Ralph was already far on in Latin and Greek, +and at thirteen he could read plain narrative Hebrew, and had a +Hebrew Bible of his own in which he followed his father, to the +admiration of all the congregation. + +Prigs of very pure water have sometimes been manufactured by just +such means as this. + +Sometimes his father would lean over and say, "My son, what is the +expression for that in the original?" whereupon Ralph would read +the passage. It was between Gilbert Peden and his Maker that +sometimes he did this for pride, and not for information; but +Ralph was his only son, and was he not training him, as all knew, +in order that he might be a missionary apostle of the great truths +of the protesting kirk of the Marrow, left to testify lonely and +forgotten among the scanty thousands of Scotland, yet carrying +indubitably the only pure doctrine as it had been delivered to the +saints? + +But, in spite of all, the lad's bent was really towards +literature. The books of verses which he kept under lock and key +were the only things that he had ever concealed from his father. +Again, since he had come to man's estate, the articles he had +covertly sent to the Edinburgh Magazine were manifest tokens of +the bent of his mind. All the more was he conscious of this, that +he had truly lived his life before the jealous face of his +father's God, though his heart leaned to the milder divinity and +the kindlier gospel of One who was the Bearer of Burdens. + +Ralph lay long on his bed, on which he had lain down at full +length to think out his plans, as his custom was. It did not mean +to leave Winsome, this call to Edinburgh. His father would not +utterly refuse his consent, though he might urge long delays. And, +in any case, Edinburgh was but two days' journey from the Dullarg; +two days on the road by the burnsides and over the heather hills +was nothing to him. But, for all that, the aching would not be +stilled. Hearts are strange, illogical things; they will not be +argued with. + +Finally, he rose with the heart of him full of the intention of +telling Winsome at once. He would write to her and tell her that +he must see her immediately. It was necessary for him to acquaint +her with what had occurred. So, without further question as to his +motive in writing, Ralph rose and wrote a letter to give to +Saunders Mowdiewort. The minister's man was always ready to take a +letter to Craig Ronald after his day's work was over. His +inclinations jumped cheerfully along with the shilling which +Ralph--who had not many such--gave him for his trouble. Within a +drawer, the only one in his room that would lock, on the top of +Ralph's poems lay the white moss-rose and the forget-me-nots +which, as a precious and pregnant emblem from his love, Saunders +had brought back with him. + +As Ralph sat at the window writing his letter to Winsome, he saw +over the hedge beneath his window the bent form of Allan Welsh-- +his great, pallid brow over-dominating his face--walking slowly to +and fro along the well-accustomed walk, at one end of which was +the little wooden summer house in which was his private oratory. +Even now Ralph could see his lips moving in the instancy of his +unuttered supplication. His inward communing was so intense that +the agony of prayer seemed to shake his frail body. Ralph could +see him knit his hands behind his back in a strong tension of +nerves. Yet it seemed a right and natural thing for Ralph to be +immersed in his own concerns, and to turn away with the light +tribute of a sigh to finish his love-letter--for, after all (say +they), love is only a refined form of selfishness. + +"Beloved," wrote Ralph, "among my many promises to you yester +even, I did not promise to refrain from writing to you; or if I +did, I ask you to put off your displeasure until you have read my +letter. I am not, you said, to come to see you. Then will you come +to meet me? You know that I would not ask you unless the matter +were important. I am at a cross-roads, and I cannot tell which way +to go. But I am sure that you can tell me, for your word shall be +to me as the whisper of a kind angel. Meet me to-night, I beseech +you, for ere long I must go very far away, and I have much to say +to thee, my beloved! Saunders will bring any message of time or +place safely. Believing that you will grant me this request--for +it is the first time and may be the last--and with all my heart +going out to thee, I am the man who truly loves thee.--RALPH +PEDEN." + +It was when Saunders came over from his house by the kirkyard that +Ralph left his books and went down to find him. Saunders was in +the stable, occupying himself with the mysteries of Birsie's +straps and buckles, about which he was as particular as though he +were driving a pair of bays every day. + +"An' this is the letter, an' I'm to gie it to the same lass as I +gied the last yin till? I'll do that, an' thank ye kindly," said +Saunders, putting the letter into one pocket and Ralph's shilling +into the other; "no that I need onything but white silver kind o' +buckles friendship. It's worth your while, an' its worth my while +--that's the way I look at it." + +Ralph paused a moment. He would have liked to ask what Meg said, +and how Winsome looked, and many other things about Saunders's +last visit; but the fear of appearing ridiculous even to Saunders +withheld him. + +The grave-digger went on: "It's a strange thing--love--it levels +a'. Noo there's me, that has had a wife an' burriet her; I'm juist +as keen aboot gettin' anither as if I had never gotten the besom +i' the sma' o' my back. Ye wad never get a besom in the sma' o' +yer back?" he said inquiringly. + +"No," said Ralph, smiling in spite of himself. + +"Na, of course no; ye havna been mairrit. But bide a wee; she's a +fell active bit lass, that o' yours, an' I should say"--here +Saunders spoke with the air of a connoisseur--"I wad say that she +micht be verra handy wi' the besom." + +"You must not speak in that way," began Ralph, thinking of +Winsome. But, looking at the queer, puckered face of Saunders, he +came to the conclusion that it was useless to endeavour to impress +any of his own reverence upon him. It was not worth the pains, +especially as he was assuredly speaking after his kind. + +"Na, of course no," replied Saunders, with a kind of sympathy for +youth and inexperience in his tone; "when yer young an' gaun +coortin' ye dinna think o' thae things. But bide a wee till ye +gann on the same errand the second time, and aiblins the third +time--I've seen the like, sir--an' a' thae things comes intil yer +reckoning, so so speak." + +"Really," said Ralph, "I have not looked so far forward." + +Saunders breathed on his buckle and polished it with the tail of +his coat, after which he rubbed it on his knee. Then he held it up +critically in a better light. Still it did not please him, so he +breathed on it once more. + +"'Deed, an' wha could expect it? It's no in youth to think o' thae +things--no till it's ower late. Noo, sir, I'll tell ye, whan I was +coortin' my first, afore I gat her, I could hae etten [eaten] her, +an' the first week efter Maister Teends mairrit us, I juist danced +I was that fond o' her. But in anither month, faith, I thocht that +she wad hae etten me, an' afore the year was oot I wussed she had. +Aye, aye, sir, it's waur nor a lottery, mairriage--it's a great +mystery." + +"But how is it, then, that you are so anxious to get married +again?" asked Ralph, to whom these conversations with the Cuif +were a means of lightening his mind of his own cares. + +"Weel, ye see, Maister Ralph," pursued the grave-digger, "I'm by +inclination a social man, an' the nature o' my avocation, so to +speak, is a wee unsocial. Fowk are that curious. Noo, when I gang +into the square o' a forenicht, the lads 'll cry oot, 'Dinna be +lookin' my gate, Saunders, an' wonnerin' whether I'll need a +seven-fit hole, or whether a six-fit yin will pass!' Or maybe the +bairns'll cry oot, 'Hae ye a skull i' yer pooch?' The like o' that +tells on a man in time, sir." + +"Without doubt," said Ralph; "but how does matrimony, for either +the first or the second time, cure that?" + +"Weel, sir, ye see, mairriage mak's a man kind o' independent +like. Say, for instance, ye hae been a' day at jobs up i' the +yaird, an' it's no been what ye micht ca' pleesant crunchin' +through green wud an' waur whiles. Noo, we'll say that juist as a +precaution, ye ken, ye hae run ower to the Black Bull for a gless +or twa at noo's an' nan's" [now and then]. + +"_I_ have run over, Saunders?" queried Ralph. + +"Oh, it's juist a mainner o' speakin', sir; I was takin' a +personal example. Weel, ye gang hame to the wife aboot the +gloamin', an' ye open the door, an' ye says, says you, pleesant +like, bein' warm aboot the wame,' Guid e'en to ye, guidwife, my +dawtie, an' hoos a' thing been gaim wi' ye the day?' D'ye think +she needs to luik roon' to ken a' aboot the Black Bull? Na, na, +she kens withoot even turnin' her heid. She kenned by yer verra +fit as ye cam' up the yaird. She's maybe stirrin' something i' the +pat. She turns roon' wi the pat-stick i' her haund. 'I'll dawtie +ye, my man!' she says, an' WHANG, afore ye ken whaur ye are, the +pat-stick is acquant wi' the side o' yer heid. 'I'll dawtie ye, +rinnin' rakin' to the public-hoose wi' yer hard-earned shillin's. +Dawtie!' quo' she; 'faith, the Black Bull's yer dawtie!'" + +"But how does she know?" asked Ralph, in the interests of truth +and scientific inquiry. + +Saunders thought that he was speaking with an eye on the future. +He lifted up his finger solemnly: "Dinna ye ever think that ye can +gang intil a public hoose withoot yer wife kennin'. Na, it's no +the smell, as an unmarrit man micht think; and peppermints is a +vain thing, also ceenimons. It's juist their faculty--aye, that's +what it is--it's a faculty they hae; an' they're a' alike. They +ken as weel wi' the back o' their heids till ye, an' their noses +fair stuffit wi' the cauld, whether ye hae been makin' a ca' or +twa on the road hame on pay-nicht. I ken it's astonishin' to a +single man, but ye had better tak' my word for't, it's the case. +'Whaur's that auchteenpence?' Betty used to ask; 'only twal an' +sixpence, an' your wages is fourteen shillings--forbye your +chance frae mourners for happen the corp up quick'--then ye hummer +an' ha', an' try to think on the lee ye made up on the road doon; +but it's a gye queery thing that ye canna mind o't. It's an odd +thing hoo jooky [nimble] a lee is whan ye want it in time o' +need!" + +Ralph looked so interested that Saunders quite felt for him. + +"And what then?" said he. + +"Then," said Saunders, nodding his head, so that it made the +assertion of itself without any connection with his body--"then, +say ye, then is juist whaur the besom comes in"--he paused a +moment in deep thought--"i' the sma' o' yer back!" he added, in a +low and musing tone, as of one who chews the cud of old and +pleasant memories. "An' ye may thank a kind Providence gin there's +plenty o' heather on the end o't. Keep aye plenty o' heather on +the end o' the besom," said Saunders; "a prudent man aye sees to +that. What is't to buy a new besom or twa frae a tinkler body, +whan ye see the auld yin gettin' bare? Nocht ava, ye can tak' the +auld yin oot to the stable, or lose it some dark nicht on the +moor! O aye, a prudent man aye sees to his wife's besom." Saunders +paused, musing. "Ye'll maybe no believe me, but often what mak's +a' the hale differ atween a freendly turn up wi' the wife, that +kind o' cheers a man up, an' what ye micht ca' an onpleesantness-- +is juist nae mair nor nae less than whether there's plenty o' +heather on his wife's besom." + +Saunders had now finished all his buckles to his satisfaction. He +summed up thus the conclusion of his great argument: "A besom i' +the sma' o' yer back is interestin' an' enleevinin', whan it's new +an' bushy; but it's the verra mischief an' a' whan ye get the bare +shank on the back o' yer heid--an' mind ye that." + +"I am very much indebted to you for the advice, Saunders." + +"Aye, sir," said Saunders, "it's sound! it's sound! I can vouch +for that." + +Ralph went towards the door and looked out. The minister was still +walking with his hands behind his back. He did not in the least +hear what Saunders had said. He turned again to him. "And what do +you want another wife for, then, Saunders?" + +"'Deed, Maister Ralph, to tell ye the Guid's truth, it's awfu' +deevin' [deafening] leevin' wi' yin's mither. She's a awfu' woman +to talk, though a rale guid mither to me. Forbye, she canna tak' +the besom to ye like yer ain wife--the wife o' yer bosom, so to +speak--when ye hae been to the Black Bull. It's i' the natur' o' +things that a man maun gang there by whiles; but on the ither +haund it's richt that he should get a stap ta'en oot o' his bicker +when he comes hame, an' some way or ither the best o' mithers +haena gotten the richt way o't like a man's ain wife." + +"And you think that Meg would do it well?" said Ralph, smiling. + +"Aye, sir, she Avad that, though I'm thinkin' that she wad be +kindlier wi' the besom-shank than Jess; no that I wad for a moment +expect that there wad be ony call for siclike," he said, with a +look of apology at Ralph, which was entirely lost on that young +man, "but in case, sir--in case--" + +Ralph looked in bewilderment at Saunders, who was indulging in +mystic winks and nods. + +"You see, the way o't is this, sir: yin's mither--(an' mind, I'm +far frae sayin' a word agin my ain mither--she's a guid yin, for +a' her tongue, whilk, ye ken, sir, she canna help ony mair than +bein' a woman;) but ye ken, that when ye come hame frae the Black +Bull, gin a man has only his mither, she begins to flyte on +[scold] him, an' cast up to him what his faither, that's i' the +grave, wad hae said, an' maybe on the back o' that she begins the +greetin'. Noo, that's no comfortable, ava. A man that gangs to the +Black Bull disna care a flee's hin' leg what his faither wad hae +said. He disna want to be grutten ower [wept over]; na, what he +wants is a guid-gaun tongue, a wullin' airm, an' a heather besom +no ower sair worn." + +Ralph nodded in his turn in appreciative comment. + +"Then, on the morrow's morn, when ye rub yer elbow, an' fin' +forbye that there's something on yer left shoother-blade that's +no on the ither, ye tak' a resolve that ye'll come straught hame +the nicht. Then, at e'en, when ye come near the Black Bull, an' +see the crony that ye had a glass wi' the nicht afore, ye +naturally tak' a bit race by juist to get on the safe side o' yer +hame. I'm hearin' aboot new-fangled folk that they ca' 'temperance +advocates,' Maister Ralph, but for my pairt gie me a lang-shankit +besom, an' a guid-wife's wullin airm!" + +These are all the opinions of Saunders Mowdiewort about besom- +shanks. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +THAT GIPSY JESS. + + +Saunders took Ralph's letter to Craig Ronald with him earlier that +night than usual, as Ralph had desired him. At the high hill gate, +standing directing the dogs to gather the cows off the hill for +milking, he met Jess. + +"Hae ye ouy news, Saunders?" she asked, running down to the little +foot-bridge to meet him. Saunders took it as a compliment; and, +indeed, it was done with a kind of elfish grace, which cast a +glamour over his eyes. But Jess, who never did anything without a +motive, really ran down to be out of sight of Ebie Farrish, who +stood looking at her from within the stable door. + +"Here's a letter for ye, Jess," Saunders said, importantly, +handing her Ralph's letter. "He seemed rale agitatit when he +brocht it in to me, but I cheered him up by tellin' him how ye wad +dreel him wi' the besom-shank gin he waur to gang to the Black +Bull i' the forenichts." + +"Gang to the Black Bull!--what div ye mean, ye gomeril?--Saunders +I mean; ye ken weel that Maister Peden wadna gang to ony Black +Bull." + +"Weel, na, I ken that; it was but a mainner o' speakin'; but I can +see that he's fair daft ower ye, Jess. I ken the signs o' love as +weel as onybody. But hoo's Meg--an' do ye think she likes me ony +better?" + +"She was speakin' aboot ye only this mornin'," answered Jess +pleasantly, "she said that ye waur a rale solid, sensible man, no +a young ne'er-do-weel that naebody kens whaur he'll be by the +Martinmas term." + +"Did Meg say that!" cried Saunders in high delight, "Ye see what +it is to be a sensible woman. An' whaur micht she be noo?" + +Now Jess knew that Meg was churning the butter, with Jock Forrest +to help her, in the milk-house, but it did not suit her to say so. +Jess always told the truth when it suited as well as anything +else; if not, then it was a pity. + +"Meg's ben the hoose wi' the auld fowk the noo," she said, "but +she'll soon be oot. Juist bide a wee an' bind the kye for me." + +Down the brae face from the green meadowlets that fringed the moor +came the long procession of cows. Swinging a little from side to +side, they came--black Galloways, and the red and white breed of +Ayrshire in single file--the wavering piebald line following the +intricacies of the path. Each full-fed, heavy-uddered mother of +the herd came marching full matronly with stately tread, blowing +her flower-perfumed breath from dewy nostrils. The older and +staider animals--Marly, and Dumple, and Flecky--came stolidly +homeward, their heads swinging low, absorbed in meditative +digestion, and soberly retasting the sweetly succulent grass of +the hollows, and the crisper and tastier acidity of the sorrel- +mixed grass of the knolls. Behind them came Spotty and Speckly, +young and frisky matrons of but a year's standing, who yet knew no +better than to run with futile head at Roger, and so encourage +that short-haired and short-tempered collie to snap at their +heels. Here also, skirmishing on flank and rear, was Winsome's pet +sheep, "Zachary Macaulay"--so called because he was a living +memorial to the emancipation of the blacks. Zachary had been named +by John Dusticoat, who was the politician of Cairn Edward, and +"took in" a paper. He was an animal of much independence of mind. +He utterly refused to company with the sheep of his kind and +degree, and would only occasionally condescend to accompany the +cows to their hill pasture. Often he could not be induced to quit +poking his head into every pot and dish about the farm-yard. On +these occasions he would wander uninvited with a little pleading, +broken-backed bleat through every room in the house, looking for +his mistress to let him suck her thumb or to feed him on oatcake +or potato parings. + +To-night he came down in the rear of the procession. Now and then +he paused to take a random crop at the herbage, not so much from +any desire for wayside refreshment, as to irritate Roger into +attacking him. But Roger knew better. There was a certain +imperiousness about Zachary such as became an emancipated black. +Zachary rejoiced when Speckly or any of the younger or livelier +kine approached to push him away from a succulent patch of +herbage. Then he would tuck his belligerent head between his legs, +and drive fore-and-aft in among the legs of the larger animals, +often bringing them down full broadside with the whole of their +extensive systems ignominiously shaken up. + +By the time that Saunders had the cows safe into the byre, Jess +had the letter opened, read, and resealed. She had resolved, for +reasons of her own, on this occasion to give the letter to +Winsome. Jess ran into the house, and finding Winsome reading in +the parlour, gave her the letter in haste. + +"There's a man waiting for the answer," she said, "but he can easy +bide a while if it is not ready." + +Winsome, seeing it was the handwriting she knew so well, that of +the note-book and the poem, went into her own room to read her +first love-letter. It seemed very natural that he should write to +her, and her heart beat within her quickly and strongly as she +opened it. As she unfolded it her eye seemed to take in the whole +of the writing at once as if it were a picture. She knew, before +she had read a word, that "beloved" occurred twice and "Winsome +dear" twice, nor had she any fault to find, unless it were that +they did not occur oftener. + +So, without a moment's hesitation, she sat down and wrote only a +line, knowing that it would be all-sufficient. It was her first +love-tryst. Yet if it had been her twentieth she could not have +been readier. + +"I shall be at the gate of the hill pasture," so she wrote, "at +ten o'clock to-night." + +It was with a very tumultuous heart that she closed this missive, +and went out quickly to give it to Jess lest she should repent. A +day before, even, it had never entered her mind that by any +possibility she could write such a note to a young man whom she +had only known so short a time. But then she reflected that +certainly Ralph Peden was not like any other young man; so that in +this case it was not only right but also commendable. He was so +kind and good, and so fond of her grandmother, that she could not +let him go so far away without a word. She ought at least to go +and tell him that he must never do the like again. But she would +forgive him this time, after being severe with him for breaking +his word, of course. She sighed when she thought of what it is to +be young and foolish. Once the letter in Jess's hands, these +doubts and fears came oftener to her. After a few minutes of +remorse, she ran out in order to reclaim her letter, but Jess was +nowhere to be seen. She was, in fact, at her mother's cottage up +on the green, where she was that moment employed in coercing her +brother Andra to run on a message for her. "When she went out of +the kitchen with Winsome's reply in her pocket she made it her +first duty to read it. This there was no difficulty in doing, for +opening letters was one of Jess's simplest accomplishments. Then +Jess knitted her black brows, and thought dark and Pictish +thoughts. In a few moments she had made her dispositions. She was +not going to let Winsome have Ralph without a struggle. She felt +that she had the rude primogeniture of first sight. Besides, since +she had no one to scheme for her, she resolved that she would +scheme for herself. Shut in her mother's room she achieved a fair +imitation of Winsome's letter, guiding herself by the genuine +document spread out before her. She had thought of sending only a +verbal message, but reflecting that Ralph Peden had probably never +seen Winsome's handwriting, she considered it safer, choosing +between two dangers, to send a written line. + +"Meet me by the waterside bridge at ten o'clock," she wrote. No +word more. Then arose the question of messengers. She went out to +find Saunders Mowdiewort; she got him standing at the byre door, +looking wistfully about for Meg. "Saunders," she said, "you are to +take back this answer instantly to the young Master Peden." + +"Na, na, Jess, what's the hurry? I dinna gang a fit till I hae +seen Meg," said Saunders doggedly. "Your affairs are dootless +verra important, but sae are mine. Your lad maun een wait wi' +patience till I gang hame, the same as I hae had mony a day to +wait. It's for his guid." + +Jess stamped her foot. It was too irritating that her combinations +should fail because of a Cuif whom she had thought to rule with a +word, and upon whom she had counted without a thought. + +She could not say that it was on Winsome's business, though she +knew that in that case he would have gone at once on the chance of +indirectly pleasuring Meg. She had made him believe that she +herself was the object of Ralph Peden's affections. But Jess was +not to be beaten, for in less than a quarter of an hour she had +overcome the scruples of Andra, and despatched Jock Gordon on +another message in another direction. Jess believed that where +there is a will there are several ways: the will was her own, but +she generally made the way some one else's. Then Jess went into +the byre, lifting up her house gown and covering it with the dust- +coloured milking overall, in which she attended to Speckly and +Crummy. She had done her best--her best, that is, for Jess +Kissock--and it was with a conscience void of offence that she set +herself to do well her next duty, which happened to be the milking +of the cows. She did not mean to milk cows any longer than she +could help, but in the meantime she meant to be the best milker in +the parish. Moreover, it was quite in accordance with her +character that, in her byre flirtations with Ebie Farrish, she +should take pleasure in his rough compliments, smacking of the +field and the stable. Jess had an appetite for compliments +perfectly eclectic and cosmopolitan. Though well aware that she +was playing this night with the sharpest of edged tools, till her +messengers should return and her combinations should close, Jess +was perfectly able and willing to give herself up to the game of +conversational give-and-take with Ebie Farrish. She was a girl of +few genteel accomplishments, but with her gipsy charm and her +frankly pagan nature she was fitted to go far. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THE DAKK OF THE MOON AT THE GKANNOCH BRIDGE. + + +Over the manse of Dullarg, still and grey, with only the two men +in it; over the low-walled rectangular farm steading of Craig +Ronald, fell alike the midsummer night. Ten o'clock on an early +July evening is in Galloway but a modified twilight. But as the +sun went down behind the pines he sent an angry gleam athwart the +green braes. The level cloud-band into which he plunged drew +itself upward to the zenith, and, like the eyelid of a gigantic +eye, shut down as though God in his heaven were going to sleep, +and the world was to be left alone. + +It was the dark of the moon, and even if there had been full moon +its light would have been as completely shut out by the cloud +canopy as was the mild diffusion of the blue-grey twilight. So it +happened that, as Ralph Peden took his way to his first love- +tryst, it was all that he could do to keep the path, so dark had +it become. But there was no rain--hardly yet even the hint or +promise of rain. + +Yet under the cloud there was a great solitariness--the murmur of +a land where no man had come since the making of the world. Down +in the sedges by the lake a blackcap sang sweetly, waesomely, the +nightingale of Scotland. Far on the moors a curlew cried out that +its soul was lost. Nameless things whinnied in the mist-filled +hollows. On the low grounds there lay a white mist knee-deep, and +Ralph Peden waded in it as in a shallow sea. So in due time he +came near to the place of his tryst. + +Never had he stood so before. He stilled the beating of his heart +with his hand, so loud and riotous it was in that silent place. He +could hear, loud as an insurrection, the quick, unequal double- +knocking in his bosom. + +A grasshopper, roosting on a blade of grass beneath, his feet, +tumbled off and gave vent to his feelings in a belated "chirr." +Overhead somewhere a raven croaked dismally and cynically at +intervals. Ralph's ears heard these things as he waited, with +every sense on the alert, at the place of his love-tryst. + +He thrilled with the subtle hope of strange possibilities. A mill- +race of pictures of things sweet and precious ran through his +mind. He saw a white-spread table, with Winsome seated opposite to +himself, tall, fair, and womanly, the bright heads of children +between them. And the dark closed in. Again he saw Winsome with +her head on his arm, standing looking out on the sunrise from the +hilltop, whence they had watched it not so long ago. The thought +brought him to his pocket-book. He took it out, and in the +darkness touched his lips to the string of the lilac sunbonnet. It +surely must be past ten now, he thought. Would she not come? He +had, indeed, little right to ask her, and none at all to expect +her. Yet he had her word of promise--one precious line. What would +he say to her when she came? He would leave that to be settled +when his arms were about her. But perhaps she would be colder than +before. They would sit, he thought, on the parapet of the bridge. +There were no fir-branches to part them with intrusive spikes. So +much at least should be his. + +But then, again, she might not come at all! What more likely than +that she had been detained by her grandmother? How could he expect +it? Indeed, he told himself he did not expect it. He had come out +here because it was a fine night, and the night air cooled his +brain for his studies. His heart, hammering on his life's anvil, +contradicted him. He could not have repeated the Hebrew alphabet. +His head, bent a little forward in the agony of listening, whirled +madly round; the ambient darkness surrounding all. + +There! He heard a footstep. There was a light coming down the +avenue under the elders. At last! No, it was only the glow-worms +under the leaves, shining along the grass by the wayside. The +footstep was but a restless sheep on the hillside. Then some one +coughed, with the suppressed sound of one who covers his mouth +with his hand. Ralph was startled, but almost laughed to think +that it was still only the lamb on the other side of the wall +moving restlessly about in act to feed. Time and again the blood +rushed to his temples, for he was sure that he heard her coming to +him. But it was only the echo of the blood surging blindly through +his own veins, or some of the night creatures fulfilling their +love-trysts, and seeking their destinies under the cloud of night. + +Suddenly his whole soul rose in revolt against him. Certainly now +he heard a light and swift footstep. There was a darker shape +coming towards him against the dim, faint grey glimmer of the +loch. It was his love, and she had come out to him at his bidding. +He had dreamed of an angel, and lo! now he should touch her in the +hollow night, and find that she was a warm, breathing woman. + +Wrapped from head to foot in a soft close shawl, she came to him. +He could see her now, but only as something darker against the +canopy of the night. So, in the blissful dark, which makes lovers +brave, he opened his arms to receive her. For the first time in +his life he drew them to him again not empty. + +The thrill electric of the contact, the yielding quiescence of the +girl whom he held to his breast, stilled his heart's tumultuous +beating. She raised her head, and their lips drew together into a +long kiss. What was this thing? It was a kiss in which he tasted a +strange alien flavour even through the passion of it. A sense of +wrong and disappointment flowed round Ralph's heart. So on the +bridge in the darkness, where many lovers had stood ever since the +first Pict trysted his dark-browed bride by the unbridged water, +the pair stood very still. They only breathed each other's breath. +Something familiar struck on Ralph's senses. He seemed to be +standing silent in the parlour at Craig Ronald--not here, with his +arms round his love--and somehow between them there rose +unmistakable the perfume of the flower which for an hour he had +carried in his coat on the day that he and she went a-fishing. + +"Beloved," he said tenderly, looking down, "you are very good to +me to come!" + +For all reply a face was held close pressed to his. The mists of +night had made her cheek damp. He passed his hand across the +ripples of her hair. Half hidden by the shawl he could feel the +crisping of the curls under his fingers. + +It was harder in texture than he had fancied Winsome's hair would +be. He half smiled that he had time at such a moment to think such +a thing. It was strange, however. He had thought a woman's hair +was like floss silk--at least Winsome's, for he had theorized +about none other. + +"Winsome, dear!" he said, again bending his head to look down, "I +have to go far away, and I wanted to tell you. You are not angry +with me, sweetest, for asking you to come? I could not go without +bidding you good-bye, and in the daytime I might not have seen you +alone. You know that I love you with all my life and all my heart. +And you love me--at least a little. Tell me, beloved!" + +Still there was no answer. Ralph waited with some certitude and +ease from pain, for indeed the clasping arms told him all he +wished to know. + +There was a brightness low down in the west. Strangely and slowly +the gloomy eyelid of cloud which had fallen athwart the evening +lifted for a moment its sullen fringe; a misty twilight of lurid +light flowed softly over the land. The shawl fell back like a hood +from off the girl's shoulders. She looked up throbbing and +palpitating. Ralph Peden was clasping Jess Kissock in his arms. +She had kept her word. He had kissed her of his own free will, and +that within a day. Her heart rejoiced over Winsome. "So much, at +least, she cannot take from me." + +Ralph Peden's heart stopped beating for a tremendous interval of +seconds. Then the dammed-back blood-surge drave thundering in his +ears. He swayed, and would have fallen but for the parapet of the +bridge and the clinging arms about his neck. All his nature and +love in full career stopped dead. The shock almost unhinged his +soul and reason. It was still so dark that, though he could see +the outline of her head and the paleness of her face, nothing held +him but the intense and vivid fascination of her eyes. Ralph would +have broken away, indignant and amazed, but her arms and eyes held +him close prisoner, the dismayed turmoil in his own heart aiding. + +"Yes, Ralph Peden," Jess Kissock said, cleaving to him, "and you +hate me because it is I and not another. You think me a wicked +girl to come to you in her place. But you called her because you +loved her, and I have come because I loved you as much. Have I not +as much right? Do not dream that I came for aught but that. Have I +not as good a right to love as you?" + +She prisoned his face fiercely between her hands, and held him off +from her as if to see into his soul by the light of the lingering +lake of ruddy light low in the west. + +"In your Bible where is there anything that hinders a woman from +loving? Yet I know you will despise me for loving you, and hate me +for coming in her place." + +"I do not hate you!" said Ralph, striving to go without rudely +unclasping the girl's hands. Her arms fell instantly again about +his neck, locking themselves behind. + +"No, you shall not go till you have heard all, and then you can +cast me into the loch as a worthless thing that you are better rid +of." + +Through his disappointment and his anger, Ralph was touched. He +would have spoken, but the girl went on: + +"No, you do not hate me--I am not worth it. You despise me, and do +you think that is any better? I am only a cottar's child. I have +been but a waiting-maid. But I have read how maids have loved the +kings and the kings loved them. Yes, I own it. I am proud of it. I +have schemed and lain awake at nights for this. Why should I not +love you? Others have loved me without asking my leave. Why should +I ask yours? And love came to me without your leave or my own that +day on the road when you let me carry your books." + +She let her arms drop from his neck and buried her face in her +hands, sobbing now with very genuine tears. Ralph could not yet +move away, even though no longer held by the stringent coercion of +this girl's arms. He was too grieved, too suddenly and bitterly +disappointed to have any fixed thought or resolve. But the good +man does not live who can listen unmoved to the despairing catch +of the sobbing in a woman's throat. Then on his hands, which he +had clasped before him, he felt the steady rain of her tears; his +heart went out in a great pity for this wayward girl who was +baring her soul to him. + +The whole note and accent of her grief was of unmistakable +feeling. Jess Kissock had begun in play, but her inflammable +nature kindled easily into real passion. For at least that night, +by the bridge of the Grannoch water, she believed that her heart +was broken. + +Ralph put his hand towards her with some unformed idea of +sympathy. He murmured vague words of comfort, as he might have +done to a wailing child that had hurt itself; but he had no idea +how to still the tempestuous grief of a passion-pale woman. + +Suddenly Jess Kissock slipped down and clasped him about the +knees. Her hair had broken from its snood and streamed a cloud of +intense blackness across her shoulders. He could see her only +weirdly and vaguely, as one may see another by the red light of a +wood ember in the darkness. She seemed like a beautiful, pure +angel, lost by some mischance, praying to him out of the hollow +pit of the night. + +"I carried your burden for you once, the day I first saw you. Let +me carry your burden for you across the world. If you will not +love me, let me but serve you. I would slave so hard! See, I am +strong--" + +She seized his hands, gripping thorn till his fingers clave +together with the pressure. + +"See how I love you!" her hands seemed to say. Then she kissed his +hands, wetting them with the downfalling of her tears. + +The darkness settled back thicker than before. He could not see +the kneeling woman whose touch he felt. He strove to think what he +should do, his emotions and his will surging in a troubled +maelstrom about his heart. + +But just then, from out of the darkness high on the unseen hill +above them, there came a cry--a woman's cry of pain, anger, and +ultimate danger: "Ralph, Ralph, come to me--come!" it seemed to +say to him. Again and again it came, suddenly faltered and was +silenced as if smothered--as though a hand had been laid across a +mouth that cried and would not be silent. + +Ralph sprang clear of Jess Kissock in a moment. He knew the voice. +He would have known it had it come to him across the wreck of +worlds. It was his love's voice. She was calling to him--Ralph +Peden--for help. Without a thought for the woman whose despairing +words he had just listened to, he turned and ran, plunging into +the thick darkness of the woods, hillward in the direction of the +cry. But he had not gone far when another cry was heard--not the +cry of a woman this time, but the shorter, shriller, piercing yell +of a man at the point of death--some deadly terror at his throat, +choking him. Mixed with this came also unearthly, wordless, +inhuman howlings, as of a wild beast triumphing. For a dozen +seconds these sounds dominated the night. Then upon the hill they +seemed to sink into a moaning, and a long, low cry, like the +whining of a beaten dog. Lights gleamed about the farm, and Ralph +could vaguely see, as he sprang out of the ravine, along which he +and Winsome had walked, dark forms flitting about with lanterns. +In another moment he was out on the moor, ranging about like a +wild, questing hound, seeking the cause of the sudden and hideous +outcry. + +CHAPTEE XXX. + +THE HILL GATE. + +There was no merry group outside Winsome's little lattice window +this night, as she sat unclad to glimmering white in the quiet of +her room. In her heart there was that strange, quiet thrill of +expectancy--the resolve of a maiden's heart, when she knows +without willing that at last the flood-gates of her being must +surely be raised and the great flood take her to the sea. She did +not face the thought of what she would say. In such a case a man +plans what he will say, and once in three times he says it. But a +woman is wiser. She knows that in that hour it will be given her +what she shall speak. + +"I shall go to him," said Winsome to herself; "I must, for he is +going away, and he has need of me. Can I let him go without a +word?" + +Though Ralph had done no noble action in her sight or within her +ken, yet there was that about him which gave her the knowledge +that she would be infinitely safe with him even to the world's +end. Winsome wondered how she could so gladly go, when she would +not have so much as dreamed of stealing out at night to meet any +other, though she might have known him all her life. She did not +know, often as she had heard it read, that "perfect love casteth +out fear." Then she said to herself gently, as if she feared that +the peeping roses at the window might hear, "Perhaps it is because +I love him." Perhaps it was. Happy Winsome, to have found it out +so young! + +The curtain of the dark drew down. Moist airs blew into the room, +warm with the scent of the flowers of a summer night. Honeysuckle +and rose blew in, and quieted the trembling nerves of the girl +going to meet her first love. + +"He has sair need o' me!" she said, lapsing as she sometimes did +into her grandmother's speech. "He will stand before me," she +said, "and look so pale and beautiful. Then I will not let him +come nearer--for a while--unless it is very dark and I am afraid." + +She glanced out. It promised to be very dark, and a tremour came +over her. Then she clad herself in haste, drawing from a box a +thin shawl of faded pale blue silk with a broad crimson edge, +which she drew close about her shoulders. The band of red lying +about her neck forced forward her golden tresses, throwing them +about her brow so that they stood out round her face in a +changeful aureole of fine-spun gold. She took a swift glance in +the mirror, holding her candle in her hand. Then she laughed a +nervous little laugh all to herself. How foolish of her! Of +course, it would be impossible for him to see her. But +nevertheless she put out her light, and went to the door smiling. +She had no sense of doing that which she ought not to do; for she +had been accustomed to her liberty in all matters whatsoever, ever +since she came to Craig Ronald, and in the summer weather nothing +was more common than for her to walk out upon the moor in the dewy +close of day. She shut the door quietly behind her, and set her +foot on the silent elastic turf, close cropped by many woolly +generations. The night shut down behind her closer than the door. +The western wind cooled her brain, and the singing in her heart +rose into a louder altar-song. A woman ever longs to be giving +herself. She rejoices in sacrifice. It is a pity that she so often +chooses an indifferently worthy altar. Yet it is questionable +whether her own pleasure in the sacrifice is any the less. + +At the gate of the yard, which had been left open and hung +backward perilously upon its hinges, she paused. + +"That is that careless girl, Jess!" she said, practical even at +such a moment. + +And she was right--it was Jess who had so left it. Indeed, had she +been a moment sooner, she might have seen Jess flit by, taking the +downward road which led through the elder--trees to the waterside. +As it was, she only shut the gate carefully, so that no night- +wandering cattle might disturb the repose of her grandparents, +laid carefully asleep by Meg in their low-ceilinged bedroom. + +The whole farm breathed from its walls and broad yard spaces the +peaceful rise and fall of an infant's repose. There was no sound +about the warm and friendly place save the sleepy chunner of a hen +on the bauks of the peat-house, just sufficiently awake to be +conscious of her own comfort. + +The hill road was both stony and difficult, but Winsome's light +feet went along it easily and lightly. On not a single stone did +she stumble. She walked so gladsomely that she trod on the air. +There were no rocks in her path that night. Behind her the light +in the west winked once and went out. Palpable darkness settled +about her. The sigh of the waste moorlands, where in the haggs the +wild fowl were nestling and the adders slept, came down over the +well-pastured braes to her. + +Winsome did not hasten. Why hasten, when at the end of the way +there certainly lies the sweet beginning of all things. Already +might she be happy in the possession of certainties? It never +occurred to her that Ralph would not be at the trysting-place. +That a messenger might fail did not once cross her mind. But +maidenly tremours, delicious in their uncertainty, coursed along +her limbs and through all her being. Could any one have seen, +there was a large and almost exultant happiness in the depths of +her eyes. Her lips were parted a little, like a child that waits +on tiptoe to see the curtain rise on some wondrous and long- +dreamed-of spectacle. + +Soon against the darker sky the hill dyke stood up, looking in the +gloom massive as the Picts' Wall of long ago. It followed +irregularly the ridgy dips and hollows downward, till it ran into +the in tenser darkness of the pines. In a moment, ere yet she was +ready, there before her was the gate of her tryst. She paused, +affrighted for the first time. She listened, and there was no +sound. A trembling came over her and an uncertainty. She turned, +in act to flee. + +But out of the dark of the great dyke stepped a figure cloaked +from head to heel, and while Winsome wavered, tingling now with +shame and fear, in an instant she was enclosed within two very +strong arms, that received her as in a snare a bird is taken. + +Suddenly Winsome felt her breath shorten. She panted as if she +could not get air, like the bird as it nutters and palpitates. + +"Oh, I ought not to have come!" &he said, "but I could not help +it!" + +There was no word in answer, only a closer folding of the arms +that cinctured her. In the west the dusk was lightening and the +eyelid of the night drew slowly and grimly up. + +When for the first time she looked shyly upward, Winsome found +herself in the arms of Agnew Greatorix. Wrapped in his great +military cloak, with a triumphant look in his handsome face, he +smiled down upon her. + +Great Lord of Innocence! give now this lamb of thine thy help! + +The leaping soul of pure disembodied terror stood in Winsome's +eyes. Fascinated like an antelope in the coils of a python she +gazed, her eyes dilating and contracting--the world whirling +about her, the soul of her bounding and panting to burst its bars. + +"Winsome, my darling!" he said, "you have come to me. You are +mine"--bending his face to hers. + +Not yet had the power to speak or to resist come back to her, so +instant and terrible was her surprise. But at the first touch of +his lips upon her cheek the very despair brought back to her +tenfold her own strength. She pushed against him with her hands, +straining him from her by the rigid tension of her arms, setting +her face far from his, but she was still unable to break the clasp +of his arms about her. + +"Let me go! let me go!" she cried, in a hoarse and labouring +whisper. + +"Gently, gently, fair and softly, my birdie," said Greatorix; +"surely you have not forgotten that you sent for me to meet you +here. Well, I am here, and I am not such a fool as to come for +nothing!" + +The very impossibility of words steeled Winsome's heart, + +"_I_ send for you!" cried Winsome; "I never had message or word +with you in my life to give you a right to touch me with your +little finger. Let me go, and this instant, Agnew Greatorix!" + +"Winsome, sweetest girl, it pleases you to jest. Have not I your +own letter in my pocket telling me where to meet you? Did you not +write it? I am not angry. You can play out your play and pretend +you do not care for me as much as you like; but I will not let you +go. I have loved you too long, though till now you were cruel and +would give me no hope. So when I got your letter I knew it was +love, after all, that had been in your eyes as I rode away." + +"Listen," said Winsome eagerly; "there is some terrible mistake; I +never wrote a line to you--" + +"It matters not; it was to me that your letter came, brought by a +messenger to the castle an hour ago. So here I am, and here you +are, my beauty, and we shall just make the best of it, as lovers +should when the nights are short." + +He closed his arms about her, forcing the strength out of her +wrists with slow, rude, masculine muscles. A numbness and a +deadness ran through her limbs as he compelled her nearer to him. +Her head spun round with the fear of fainting. With a great effort +she forced herself back a step from him, and just as she felt the +breath of his mouth upon hers her heart made way through her lips. + +"Ralph! Ralph! Help me--help! Oh, come to me!" she cried in her +extremity of terror and the oncoming rigour of unconsciousness. + +The next moment she dropped limp and senseless into the arms of +Agnew Greatorix. For a long moment he held her up, listening to +the echoes of that great cry, wondering whether it would wake up +the whole world, or if, indeed, there were none to answer in that +solitary place. + +But only the wild bird wailed like a lost soul too bad for heaven, +too good for hell, wandering in the waste forever. + +Agnew Greatorix laid Winsome down on the heather, lifeless and +still, her pure white face resting in a nest of golden curls, the +red band of her mother's Indian shawl behind all. + +But as the insulter stooped to take his will of her lips, now pale +and defenceless, something that had been crouching beastlike in +the heather for an hour, tracking and tracing him like a +remorseless crawling horror, suddenly sprang with a voiceless rush +upon him as he bent over Winsome's prostrate body--gripped +straight at his throat and bore him backward bareheaded to the +ground. + +So unexpected was the assault that, strong man as Greatorix was, +he had not the least chance of resistance. He reeled at the sudden +constriction of his throat by hands that hardly seemed human, so +wide was their clutch, so terrible the stringency of their grasp. +He struck wildly at his assailant, but, lying on his back with the +biting and strangling thing above him, his arms only met on one +another in vain blows. He felt the teeth of a great beast meet in +his throat, and in the sudden agony he sent abroad the mighty roar +of a man in the grips of death by violence. But his assailant was +silent, save for a fierce whinnying growl as of a wild beast +greedily lapping blood. + +It was this terrible outcry ringing across the hills that brought +the farm steading suddenly awake, and sent the lads swarming about +the house with lanterns. But it was Ralph alone who, having heard +the first cry of his love and listened to nothing else, ran +onward, bending low with a terrible stitch in his side which +caught his breath and threw him to the ground almost upon the +white-wrapped body of his love. Hastily he knelt beside her and +laid his hand upon her heart. It was beating surely though +faintly. + +But on the other side, against the gray glimmer of the march dyke, +he could see the twitchings of some great agony. At intervals +there was the ghastly, half-human growling and the sobbing catch +of some one striving for breath. + +A light shone across the moor, fitfully wavering as the searcher +cast its rays from side to side. Ralph glanced behind him with the +instinct to carry his love away to a place of safety. But he saw +the face of Meg Kissock, with slow Jock Forrest behind her +carrying a lantern. Meg ran to the side of her mistress. + +"Wha's dune this?" she demanded, turning fiercely to Ralph. "Gin +ye--" + +"I know nothing about it. Bring the lantern here quickly," he +said, leaving Winsome in the hands of Meg. Jock Forrest brought +the lantern round, and there on the grass was Agnew Greatorix, +with daft Jock Gordon above him, his sinewy hands gripping his +neck and his teeth in his throat. + +Ralph pulled Jock Gordon off and flung him upon the heather, where +Jock Forrest set his foot upon him, and turned the light of the +lantern upon the fierce face of a maniac, foam-flecked and blood- +streaked. Jock still growled and gnashed his teeth, and struggled +in sullen fury to get at his fallen foe. With his hat Ralph +brought water from a deep moss-hole and dashed it upon the face of +Winsome. In a little while, she began to sob in a heartbroken way. +Meg took her head upon her knees, and soothed her mistress, +murmuring tendernesses. Next he brought water to throw over the +face and neck of Greatorix, which Jock Gordon in his fury had made +to look like nothing human. + +The rest might wait. It was Ralph's first care to get Winsome +home. Kneeling down beside her he soothed her with whispered +words, till the piteous sobbing in her throat stilled itself. The +ploughman was at this moment stolidly producing pieces of rope +from his pockets and tying up Jock Gordon's hands and feet; but +after his first attempts again to fly at Greatorix, and his gasps +of futile wrath when forced into the soft moss of the moor by Jock +Forrest's foot, he had not offered to move. + +His paroxysm was only one of the great spasms of madness which +sometimes come over the innocently witless. He had heard close by +him the cries of Winsome Charteris, whom he had worshipped for +years almost in the place of the God whom he had not the +understanding to know. The wonder rather was that he did not kill +Greatorix outright. Had it happened a few steps nearer the great +stone dyke, there is little doubt but that Jock Gordon would have +beat out the assailant's brains with a ragged stone. + +Winsome had not yet awakened enough to ask how all these things +came about. She could only cling to Meg, and listen to Ralph +whispering in her ear. + +"I can go home now," she said earnestly. + +So Ralph and Meg helped her up, Ralph wrapping her in her great +crimson-barred shawl. + +Ralph would have kissed her, but Winsome, standing unsteadily +clasping Meg's arm, said tenderly: + +"Not to-night. I am not able to bear it." + +It was almost midnight when Ralph and the silent Jock Forrest got +Agnew Greatorix into the spring-cart to be conveyed to Greatorix +Castle. + +He lay with his eyes closed, silent. Ralph took Jock Gordon to the +manse with him, determined to tell the whole to Mr. Welsh if +necessary; but if it were not necessary, to tell no one more than +he could help, in order to shelter Winsome from misapprehension. +It says something for Ralph that, in the turmoil of the night and +the unavailing questionings of the morning, he never for a moment +thought of doubting his love. It was enough for him that in the +depths of agony of body or spirit she had called out to him. All +the rest would be explained in due time, and he could wait. +Moreover, so selfish is love, that he had never once thought of +Jess Kissock from the moment that his love's cry had pealed across +the valley of the elder-trees and the plain of the water meadows. + +When he brought Jock Gordon, hardly yet humanly articulate, into +the kitchen of the manse, the house was still asleep. Then Ralph +wakened Manse Bell, who slept above. He told her that Jock Gordon +had taken a fit upon the moor, that he had found him ill, and +brought him home. Next he went up to the minister's room, where he +found Mr. Welsh reading his Bible. He did not know that the +minister had watched him both come and go from his window, or that +he had remained all night in prayer for the lad, who, he +misdoubted, was in deep waters. + +As soon as Jock Gordon had drunk the tea and partaken of the beef +ham which Manse Bell somewhat grumblingly set before him, he said: + +"Noo, I'll awa'. The tykes'll be after me, nae doot, but it's no +in yin o' them to catch Jock Gordon gin yince he gets into the +Dungeon o' Buchan." + +"But ye maun wait on the minister or Maister Peden. They'll hae +muckle to ask ye, nae doot!" said Bell, who yearned for news. + +"Nae doot, nae doot!" said daft Jock Gordon, "an' I hae little to +answer. It's no for me to tie the rape roond my ain craig [neck]. +Na, na, time aneu' to answer when I'm afore the sherra at +Kirkcudbright for this nicht's wark." + +With these words Jock took his pilgrim staff and departed for +parts unknown. As he said, it was not bloodhounds that could catch +Jock Gordon on the Rhinns of Kells. + +In the morning there was word come to the cot-house of the +Kissocks that Mistress Kissock was wanted up at the castle to +nurse a gentleman who had had an accident when shooting. Mistress +Kissock was unable to go herself, but her daughter Jess went +instead of her, having had some practice in nursing, among other +experiences which she had gained in England. It was reported that +she made an excellent nurse. + +CHAPTEE XXXI. + +THE STUDY OF THE MANSE OF DULLARG. + +IT was growing slowly dusk again when Ralph Peden returned from +visiting Craig Ronald along the shore road to the Dullarg and its +manse. He walked briskly, as one who has good news. Sometimes he +whistled to himself--breaking off short with a quick smile at +some recollection. Once he stopped and laughed aloud. Then he +threw a stone at a rook which eyed him superciliously from the top +of a turf dyke. He made a bad shot, at which the black critic +wiped the bare butt of his bill upon the grass, uttered a hoarse +"A-ha!" of derision, and plunged down squatty among the dock- +leaves on the other side. + +As Ralph turned up the manse loaning to the bare front door, he +was conscious of a vague uneasiness, the feeling of a man who +returns to a house of gloom from a world where all things have +been full of sunshine. It was not the same world since yesterday. +Even he, Ralph Peden, was not the same man. But he entered the +house with that innocent affectation of exceeding ease which is +the boy's tribute to his own inexperience. He went up the stairs +through the dark lobby and entered Allan Welsh's study. The +minister was sitting with his back to the window, his hands +clasped in front of him, and his great domed forehead and +emaciated features standing out against the orange and crimson +pool of glory where the sun had gone down. + +Ralph ostentatiously clattered down his armful of books on the +table. The minister did not speak at first, and Ralph began his +explanation. + +"I am sorry," he said, hesitating and blushing under the keen eyes +of his father's friend. "I had no idea I should have been +detained, but the truth is--" + +"I ken what the truth is," said Allan Welsh, quietly. "Sit down, +Ralph Peden. I have somewhat to say to you." + +A cold chill ran through the young man's veins, to which succeeded +a thrill of indignation. Was it possible that he was about to +reproach him, as a student in trials for the ministry of the +Marrow kirk, with having behaved in any way unbecoming of an +aspirant to that high office, or left undone anything expected of +him as his father's son? + +The minister was long in speaking. Against the orange light of +evening which barred the window, his face could not be seen, but +Ralph had the feeling that his eyes, unseen themselves, were +reading into his very soul. He sat down and clenched his hands +under the table, + +"I was at the Bridge of Grannoch this day," began the minister at +last. "I was on my way to visit a parishioner, but I do not +conceal from you that I also made it my business to observe your +walk and conversation." + +"By what right do you so speak to me?" began Ralph, the hotter +blood of his mother rising within him. + +"By the right given to me by your father to study your heart and +to find out whether indeed it is seeking to walk in the more +perfect way. By my love and regard for you, I hope I may also +say." + +The minister paused, as if to gather strength for what he had yet +to say. He leaned his head upon his hand, and Balph did not see +that his frail figure was shaken with some emotion too strong for +his physical powers, only kept in check by the keen and +indomitable will within. + +"Ralph, my lad," Allan Welsh continued, "do not think that I have +not foreseen this; and had jour father written to inform me of his +intention to send you to me, I should have urged him to cause you +to abide in your own city. What I feared in thought is in act come +to pass. I saw it in your eyes yestreen." + +Kalph's eyes spoke an indignant query. + +"Ralph Peden," said the minister, "since I came here, eighteen +years ago, not a mouse has crept out of Craig Ronald but I have +made it my business to know it. I am no spy, and yet I need not to +be told what happened yesterday or to-day." + +"Then, sir, you know that I have no need to be ashamed." + +"I have much to say to you, Ralph, which I desire to say by no +means in anger. But first let me say this: It is impossible that +you can ever be more to Winifred Charteris than you are to-day." + +"That is likely enough, sir, but I would like to know why in that +case I am called in question." "Because I have been, more than +twenty years ago, where you are to-day, Ralph Peden, I--even I-- +have seen eyes blue as those of Winsome Charteris kindle with +pleasure at my approach. Yes, I have known it. And I have also +seen the lids lie white and still upon these eyes, and I am here +to warn you from the primrose way; and also, if need be, to forbid +you to walk therein." + +His voice took a sterner tone with the last words. + +Ralph bowed his head on the table and listened; but there was no +feeling save resentment and resistance in his heart. + +The minister went on in a level, unemotional tone, like one +telling a tale of long ago, of which the issues and even the +interests are dead and gone. + +"I do not look now like a man on whom the eye of woman could ever +rest with the abandonment of love. Yet I, Allan Welsh, have seen +'the love that casteth out fear.'" + +After a pause the high, expressionless voice took up the tale. + +"Many years ago there were two students, poor in money but rich in +their mutual love. They were closer in affection than twin +brothers. The elder was betrothed to be married to a beautiful +girl in the country; so he took down his friend with him to the +village where the maid dwelt to stand by his side and look upon +the joy of the bridegroom. He saw the trysted (betrothed) of his +friend. He and she looked into one another's eyes and were drawn +together as by a power beyond them. The elder was summoned +suddenly back to the city, and for a week he, all unthinking, left +the friends of his love together glad that they should know one +another better. They walked together. They spoke of many things, +ever returning back to speak of themselves. One day they held a +book together till they heard their hearts beat audibly, and in +the book read no more that day. + +"Upon the friend's return he found only an empty house and +distracted parents. Bride and brother had fled. Word came that +they had been joined by old Joseph Paisley, the Gretna Green +'welder,' without blessing of minister or kirk. Then they hid +themselves in a little Cumbrian village, where for six years the +unfaithful friend wrought for his wife--for so he deemed her--till +in the late bitterness of bringing forth she died, that was the +fairest of women and the unhappiest." + +The minister ceased. Outside the rain had come on in broad single +drops, laying the dust on the road. Ralph could hear it pattering +on the broad leaves of the plane-tree outside the window. He did +not like to hear it. It sounded like a woman's tears. + +But he could not understand how all this bore on his case. He was +silenced and awed, but it was with the sight of a soul of a man of +years and approved sanctity in deep apparent waters of sorrow. + +The minister lifted his head and listened. In the ancient woodwork +of the manse, somewhere in the crumbling wainscoting, the little +boring creature called a death-watch ticked like the ticking of an +old verge watch. Mr. Welsh broke off with a sudden causeless auger +very appalling in one so sage and sober in demeanour. + +"There's that beast again!" he said; "often have I thought it was +ticking in my head. I have heard it ever since the night she died--" + +"I wonder at a man like you," said Ralph, "with your wisdom and +Christian standing, caring for a worm--" + +"You're a very young man, and when you are older maybe you'll +wonder at a deal fewer things," answered the minister with a kind +of excited truculence very foreign to his habit, "for I myself am +a worm and no man," he added dreamily. "And often I tried to kill +the beast. Ye see thae marks--" he broke off again--"I bored for +it till the boards are a honeycomb, but the thing aye ticks on." + +"But, Mr. Welsh," said Ralph eagerly, with some sympathy in his +voice, "why should you trouble yourself about this story now--or +I, for the matter of that? I can understand that Winsome Charteris +has somehow to do with it, and that the knowledge has come to you +in the course of your duty; but even if, at any future time, +Winsome Charteris were aught to me or I to her--the which I have +at present only too little hope of--her forbears, be they +whomsoever they might, were no more to me than Julius Caesar. I +have seen her and looked into her eyes. What needs she of +ancestors that is kin to the angels?" + +Something like pity came into the minister's stern eyes as he +listened to the lad. Once he had spoken just such wild, heart- +eager words. + +"I will answer you in a sentence," he said. "I that speak with you +am the cause. I am he that has preached law and the gospel--for +twenty years covering my sin with the Pharisee's strictness of +observance. I am he that was false friend but never false lover-- +that married without kirk or blessing. I am the man that clasped a +dead woman's hand whom I never owned as wife, and watched afar off +the babe that I never dared to call mine own. I am the father of +Winifred Oharteris, coward before man, castaway before God. Of my +sin two know besides my Maker--the father that begot you, whose +false friend I was in the days that were, and Walter Skirving, the +father of the first Winifred whose eyes this hand closed under the +Peacock tree at Crossthwaite." + +The broad drops fell on the window-panes in splashes, and the +thunder rain drummed on the roof. + +The minister rose and went out, leaving Ralph Peden sitting in the +dark with the universe in ruins about him. The universe is fragile +at twenty-one. + +And overhead the great drops fell from the brooding thunder- +clouds, and in the wainscoting of Allan Welsh's study the death- +watch ticked. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +OUTCAST AND ALIEN FROM THE COMMONWEALTH. + + +"Moreover," said the minister--coming in an hour afterwards to +take up the interrupted discussion--"the kirk of the Marrow +overrides all considerations of affection or self-interest. If you +are to enter the Marrow kirk, you must live for the Marrow, and +fight for the Marrow, and, above all, you must wed for the Marrow--" + +"As you did, no doubt," said Ralph, somewhat ungenerously. + +Ralph had remained sitting in the study where the minister had +left him. + +"No, for myself," said the minister, with a certain firmness and +high civility, which made the young man ashamed of himself, "I am +no true son of the Marrow. I have indeed served the Marrow kirk in +her true and only protesting section for twenty-five years; but I +am only kept in my position by the good grace of two men--of your +father and of Walter Skirving. And do not think that they keep +their mouths sealed by any love for me. Were there only my own +life and good name to consider, they would speak instantly, and I +should be deposed, without cavil or word spoken in my own defence. +Nay, by what I have already spoken, I have put myself in your +hands. All that you have to do is simply to rise in your place on +the Sabbath morn and tell the congregation what I have told you-- +that the minister of the Marrow kirk in Dullarg is a man rebuking +sin when his own hearthstone is unclean--a man irregularly +espoused, who wrongfully christened his own unacknowledged child." + +Allan Welsh laid his brow against the hard wood of the study table +as though to cool it. + +"No," he continued, looking Ralph in the face, as the midnight +hummed around, and the bats softly fluttered like gigantic moths +outside, "your father is silent for the sake of the good name of +the Marrow kirk; but this thing shall never be said of his own +son, and the only hope of the Marrow kirk--the lad she has +colleged and watched and prayed for--not only the two +congregations of Edinburgh and the Dullarg contributing yearly out +of their smallest pittances, but the faithful single members and +adherents throughout broad Scotland--many of whom are coming to +Edinburgh at the time of our oncoming synod, in order to be +present at it, and at the communion when I shall assist your +father." + +"But why can not I marry Winsome Charteris, even though she be +your daughter, as you say?" asked Ralph. + +"O young man," said the minister, "ken ye so little about the kirk +o' the Marrow, and the respect for her that your father and myself +cherish for the office of her ministry, that ye think that we +could permit a probationer, on trials for the highest office +within her gift, to connect himself by tie, bond, or engagement +with the daughter of an unblest marriage? That wouald be winking +at a new sin, darker even, than the old." Then, with a burst of +passion--"I, even I, would sooner denounce it myself, though it +cost me my position! For twenty years I have known that before God +I was condemned. You have seen me praying--yes, often--all night, +but never did you or mortal man hear me praying for myself." + +Ralph held out his hand in sympathy. Mr. Welsh did not seem to +notice it. He went on: + +"I was praying for this poor simple folk--the elect of God--their +minister alone a castaway, set beyond the mercy of God by his own +act. Have I not prayed that they might never be put to shame by +the knowledge of the minister's sin being made a mockery in the +courts of Belial? And have I not been answered?" + +Here we fear that Mr. Welsh referred to the ecclesiastical +surroundings of the Reverend Erasmus Teends. + +"And I prayed for my poor lassie, and for you, when I saw you both +in the floods of deep waters. I have wept great and bitter tears +for you twain. But I am to receive my answer and reward, for this +night you shall give me your word that never more will you pass +word of love to Winsome, the daughter of Allan Charteris Welsh. +For the sake of the Marrow kirk and the unstained truth delivered +to the martyrs, and upheld by your father one great day, you will +do this thing." + +"Mr. Welsh," said the young man calmly, "I cannot, even though I +be willing, do this thing. My heart and life, my honour and word, +are too deeply engaged for me to go back. At whatever cost to +myself, I must keep tryst and pledge with the girl who has trusted +me, and who for me has to-night suffered things whose depths of +pain and shame I know not yet." + +"Then," said the minister sternly, "you and I must part. My duty +is done. If you refuse my appeal, you are no true son of the +Marrow kirk, and no candidate that I can recommend for her +ministry. Moreover, to keep you longer in my house and at my board +were tacitly to encourage you in your folly." + +"It is quite true," replied Ralph, unshaken and undaunted, "that I +may be as unfit as you say for the office and ministry of the +Marrow kirk. It is, indeed, only as I have thought for a long +season. If that be so, then it were well that I should withdraw, +and leave the place for some one worthier." + +"I wonder to hear ye, Ralph Peden, your father's son," said the +minister, "you that have been colleged by the shillings and +sixpences of the poor hill folk. How will ye do with these?" + +"I will pay them back," said Ralph. + +"Hear ye, man: can ye pay back the love that hained and saved to +send them to Edinburgh? Can ye pay back the prayers and +expectations that followed ye from class to class, rejoicing in +your success, praying that the salt of holiness might be put for +you into the fountains of earthly learning? Pay back, Ralph +Peden?--I wonder sair that ye are not shamed!" + +Indeed, Ralph was in a sorrowful quandary. He knew that it was all +true, and he saw no way out of it without pain and grief to some. +But the thought of Winsome's cry came to him, heard in the +lonesome night. That appeal had severed him in a moment from all +his old life. He could not, though he were to lose heaven and +earth, leave her now to reproach and ignominy. She had claimed him +only in her utter need, and he would stand good, lover and friend +to be counted on, till the world should end. + +"It is true what you say," said Ralph; "I mourn for it every word, +but I cannot and will not submit my conscience and my heart to the +keeping even of the Marrow kirk." + +"Ye should have thought on that sooner," interjected the minister +grimly. + +"God gave me my affections as a sacred trust. This also is part of +my religion. And I will not, I cannot in any wise give up hope of +winning this girl whom I love, and whom you above all others ought +surely to love." + +"Then," said the minister, rising solemnly with his hand +outstretched as when he pronounced the benediction, "I, Allan +Welsh, who love you as my son, and who love my daughter more than +ten daughters who bear no reproach, tell you, Ralph Peden, that I +can no longer company with you. Henceforth I count you as a rebel +and a stranger. More than self, more than life, more than child or +wife, I, sinner as I am, love the honour and discipline of the +kirk of the Marrow. Henceforth you and I are strangers." + +The words fired the young man. He took up his hat, which had +fallen upon the floor. + +"If that be so, the sooner that this house is rid of the presence +of a stranger and a rebel the better for it, and the happier for +you. I thank you for all the kindness you have shown to me, and I +bid you, with true affection and respect, farewell!" + +So, without wailing even to go up-stairs for anything belonging to +him, and with no further word on either side, Ralph Peden stepped +into the clear, sobering midnight, the chill air meeting him like +a wall. The stars had come out and were shining frosty-clear, +though it was June. + +And as soon as he was gone out the minister fell on his knees, and +so continued all the night praying with his face to the earth. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +JOCK GORDON TAKES A HAND. + + +Whatever is too precious, too tender, too good, too evil, too +shameful, too beautiful for the day, happens in the night. Night +is the bath of life, the anodyne of heartaches, the silencer of +passions, the breeder of them too, the teacher of those who would +learn, the cloak that shuts a man in with his own soul. The seeds +of great deeds and great crimes are alike sown in the night. The +good Samaritan doeth his good by stealth; the wicked one cometh +and soweth his tares among the wheat. The lover and the lustful +person, the thief and the thinker, the preacher and the poacher, +are abroad in the night. In factories and mills, beside the +ceaseless whirl of machinery, stand men to whom day is night and +night day. In cities the guardians of the midnight go hither and +thither with measured step under the drizzling rain. No man cares +that they are lonely and cold. Yet, nevertheless, both light and +darkness, night and day, are but the accidents of a little time. +It is twilight--the twilight of the morning and of the gods--that +is the true normal of the universe. Night is but the shadow of the +earth, light the nearness of the central sun. But when the soul of +man goeth its way beyond the confines of the little multiplied +circles of the system of the sun, it passes at once into the dim +twilight of space, where for myriads of myriad miles there is only +the grey of the earliest God's gloaming, which existed just so or +ever the world was, and shall be when the world is not. Light and +dark, day and night, are but as the lights of a station at which +the train does not stop. They whisk past, gleaming bright but for +a moment, and the world which came out of great twilight plunges +again into it, perhaps to be remade and reillumined on some +eternal morning. + +It is good for man, then, to be oftentimes abroad in the early +twilight of the morning. It is primeval-instinct with +possibilities of thought and action. Then, if at all, he will get +a glimpse into his soul that may hap to startle him. Judgment and +the face of God justly angry seem more likely and actual things +than they do in the city when the pavements are thronged and at +every turning some one is ready for good or evil to hail you +"fellow." + +So Ralph Peden stepped out into the night, the sense of injustice +quick upon him. He had no plans, but only the quick resentments of +youth, and the resolve to stay no longer in a house where he was +an unwelcome guest. He felt that he had been offered the choice +between his career and unfaithfulness to the girl who had trusted +him. This was not quite so; but, with the characteristic one- +sidedness of youth, that was the way that he put the case to +himself. + +It was the water-shed of day and night when Ralph set out from the +Dullarg manse. He had had no supper, but he was not hungry. +Naturally his feet carried him in the direction of the bridge, +whither he had gone on the previous evening and where amid an +eager press of thoughts he had waited and watched for his love. +When he got there he sat down on the parapet and looked to the +north. He saw the wimples of the lazy Grannoch Lane winding dimly +through their white lily beds. In the starlight the white cups +glimmered faintly up from their dark beds of leaves. Underneath +the bridge there was only a velvety blackness of shadow. + +What to do was now the question. Plainly he must at once go to +Edinburgh, and see his father. That was the first certainty. But +still more certainly he must first see Winsome, and, in the light +of the morning and of her eyes, solve for her all the questions +which must have sorely puzzled her, at the same time resolving his +own perplexities. Then he must bid her adieu. Right proudly would +he go to carve out a way for her. He had no doubts that the +mastership in his old school, which Dr. Abel had offered him a +month ago, would still be at his disposal. That Winsome loved him +truly he did not doubt. He gave no thought to that. The cry across +the gulf of air from the high march dyke by the pines on the hill, +echoing down to the bridge in the valley of the Grannoch, had +settled that question once for all. + +As he sat on the bridge and listened to the ripple of the Grannoch +lane running lightly over the shallows at the Stepping Stones, and +to the more distant roar of the falls of the Black Water, he +shaped out a course for himself and for Winsome. He had ceased to +call her Winsome Charteris. "She," he called her--the only she. +When next he gave her a surname he would call her Winsome Peden. +Instinctively he took off his hat at the thought, as though he had +opened a door and found himself light-heartedly and suddenly in a +church. + +Sitting thus on the bridge alone and listening to the ocean-like +lapse of his own thoughts, as they cast up the future and the past +like pebbles at his feet, he had no more thought of fear for his +future than he had that first day at Craig Ronald, under the whin- +bushes on the ridge behind him, on that day of the blanket-washing +so many ages ago. He was so full of love that it had cast out +fear. + +Suddenly out of the gloom beneath the bridge upon which he was +sitting, dangling his legs, there came a voice. + +"Maister Ralph Peden, Maister Ralph Peden." + +Ralph nearly fell backward over the parapet in his astonishment. + +"Who is that calling on me?" he asked in wonder. + +"Wha but juist daft Jock Gordon? The hangman haesna catchit him +yet, an' thank ye kindly--na, nor ever wull." + +"Where are you, Jock, man?" said Ralph, willing to humour the +instrument of God. + +"The noo I'm on the shelf o' the brig; a braw bed it maks, if it +is raither narrow. But graund practice for the narrow bed that +I'll get i' the Dullarg kirkyaird some day or lang, unless they +catch puir Jock and hang him. Na, na," said Jock with a canty kind +of content in his voice, "they may luik a lang while or they wad +think o' luikin' for him atween the foundation an' the spring o' +the airch. An' that's but yin o' Jock Gordon's hidie holes, an' a +braw an' guid yin it is. I hae seen this bit hole as fu' o' +pairtricks and pheasants as it could hand, an' a' the keepers and +their dowgs smellin', and them could na find it oot. Na, the water +taks awa' the smell." + +"Are ye not coming out, Jock?" queried Ralph. + +"That's as may be," said Jock briefly. "What do ye want wi' Jock?" + +"Come up," said Ralph; "I shall tell you how ye can help me. Ye +ken that I helped you yestreen." + +"Weel, ye gied me an unco rive aff that blackguard frae the +Castle, gin that was a guid turn, I ken na!" + +So grumbling, Jock Gordon came to the upper level of the bridge, +paddling unconcernedly with his bare feet and ragged trousers +through the shallows. + +"Weel, na--hae ye a snuff aboot ye, noo that I am here? No--dear +sirce, what wad I no do for a snuff?" + +"Jock," said Ralph, "I shall have to walk to Edinburgh. I must +start in the morning." + +"Ye'll hae plenty o' sillar, nae doot?" said Jock practically. + +Ralph felt his pockets. In that wild place it was not his custom +to carry money, and he had not even the few shillings which were +in his purse at the manse. + +"I am sorry to say," he said, "that I have no money with me." + +"Then ye'll be better o' Jock Gordon wi' ye?" said Jock promptly. + +Ralph saw that it would not do to be saddled with Jock in the +city, where it might be necessary for him to begin a new career +immediately; so he gently broke the difficulties to Jock. + +"Deed na, ye needna be feared; Jock wadna set a fit in a toon. +There's ower mony nesty imps o' boys, rinnin' an' cloddin' stanes +at puir Jock, forby caa'in' him names. Syne he loses his temper +wi' them an' then he micht do them an injury an' get himsel' intil +the gaol. Na, na, when Jock sees the blue smoor o' Auld Reeky gaun +up into the lift he'll turn an' gae hame." + +"Well, Jock," said Ralph, "it behooves me to see Mistress Winsome +before I go. Ye ken she and I are good friends." + +"So's you an' me; but had puir Jock no cried up till ye, ye wad +hae gane aff to Embra withoot as muckle as 'Fairguide'en to ye, +Jock.'" + +"Ah, Jock, but then you must know that Mistress Charteris and I +are lad and lass," he continued, putting the case as he conceived +in a form that would suit it to Jock's understanding. + +"Lad an' lass! What did ye think Jock took ye for? This is nane o' +yer Castle tricks," he said; "mind, Jock can bite yet!" + +Ralph laughed. + +"No, no, Jock, you need not be feared. She and I are going to be +married some day before very long"--a statement made entirely +without authority. + +"Hoot, hoot!" said Jock, "wull nocht ser' ye but that ava--a +sensible man like you? In that case ye'll hae seen the last o' +Jock Gordon. I canna be doin' wi' a gilravage o' bairns aboot a +hoose--" + +"Jock," said Ralph earnestly, "will you help me to see her before +I go?" + +"'Deed that I wull," said Jock, very practically. "I'll gaun an' +wauken her the noo!" + +"You must not do that," said Ralph, "but perhaps if you knew where +Meg Kissock slept, you might tell her." + +"Certes, I can that," said Jock; "I can pit my haund on her in a +meenit. But mind yer, when ye're mairret, dinna expect Jock Gordon +to come farther nor the back kitchen." + +So grumbling, "It couldna be expeckit--I canna be doin' wi' bairns +ava'--"Jock took his way up the long loaning of Craig Ronald, +followed through the elderbushes by Ralph Peden. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +THE DEW OF THEIR YOUTH. + + +Jock made his way without a moment's hesitation to the little hen- +house which stood at one end of the farm steading of Craig Ronald. +Up this he walked with his semi-prehensile bare feet as easily as +though he were walking along the highway. Up to the rigging of the +house he went, then along it--setting one foot on one side and the +other on the other, turning in his great toes upon the coping for +support. Thus he came to the gable end at which Meg slept. Jock +leaned over the angle of the roof and with his hand tapped on the +window. + +"Wha's there? "said Meg from her bed, no more surprised than if +the knock had been upon the outer door at midday. + +"It's me, daft Jock Gordon," said Jock candidly. + +"Gae wa' wi' ye, Jock! Can ye no let decent fowk sleep in their +beds for yae nicht?" + +"Ye maun get up, Meg," said Jock. + +"An' what for should I get up?" queried Meg indignantly. "I had +ancuch o' gettin' up yestreen to last me a gye while." + +"There's a young man here wantin' to coort your mistress!" said +Jock delicately. + +"Haivers!" said Meg, "hae ye killed another puir man?" + +"Na, na, he's honest--this yin. It's the young man frae the manse. +The auld carle o' a minister has turned him oot o' hoose an' hame, +and he's gaun awa' to Enbra'. He says he maun see the young +mistress afore he gangs--but maybe ye ken better, Meg." + +"Gae wa' frae the wunda, Jock, and I'll get up," said Meg, with a +brevity which betokened the importance of the news. + +In a little while Meg was in Winsome's room. The greyish light of +early morning was just peeping in past the little curtain. On the +chair lay the lilac-sprigged muslin dress of her grandmother's, +which Winsome had meant to put on next morning to the kirk. Her +face lay sideways on the pillow, and Meg could see that she was +softly crying even in her sleep. Meg stood over her a moment. +Something hard lay beneath Winsome's cheek, pressing into its soft +rounding. Meg tenderly slipped it out. It was an ordinary +memorandum-book written with curious signs. On the pillow by her +lay the lilac sunbonnet. + +Meg put her arms gently round Winsome, saying: + +"It's me, my lamb. It's me, your Meg!" + +And Meg's cheek was pressed against that of Winsome, moist with +sleep. The sleeper stirred with a dovelike moaning, and opened her +eyes, dark with sleep and wet with the tears of dreams, upon Meg. + +"Waken, my bonnie; Meg has something that she maun tell ye." + +So Winsome looked round with the wild fear with which she now +started from all her sleeps; but the strong arms of her loyal Meg +were about her, and she only smiled with a vague wistfulness, and +said: + +"It's you, Meg, my dear!" + +So into her ear Meg whispered her tale. As she went on, Winsome +clasped her round the neck, and thrust her face into the neck of +Meg's drugget gown. This is the same girl who had set the +ploughmen their work and appointed to each worker about the farm +her task. It seems necessary to say so. + +"Noo," said Meg, when she had finished, "ye ken whether ye want to +see him or no!" + +"Meg," whispered Winsome, "can I let him go away to Edinburgh and +maybe never see me again, without a word?" + +"Ye ken that best yersel'," said Meg with high impartiality, but +with her comforting arms very close about her darling. + +"I think," said Winsome, the tears very near the lids of her eyes, +"that I had better not see him. I--I do not wish to see him--Meg," +she said earnestly; "go and tell him not to see me any more, and +not to think of a girl like me--" + +Meg went to Winsome's little cupboard wardrobe in the wall and +took down the old lilac-sprayed summer gown which she had worn +when she first saw Ralph Peden. + +"Ye had better rise, my lassie, an' tak' that message yersel'!" +said Meg dryly. + +So obediently Winsome rose. Meg helped her to dress, holding +silently her glimmering white garments for her as she had done +when first as a fairy child she came to Craig Ronald. Some of them +were a little roughly held, for Meg could not see quite so clearly +as usual. Also when she spoke her speech sounded more abruptly and +harshly than was its wont. + +At last the girl's attire was complete, and Winsome stood ready +for her morning walk fresh as the dew on the white lilies. Meg +tied the strings of the old sunbonnet beneath her sweet chin, and +stepped back to look at the effect; then, with sudden impulsive +movement, she went tumultuously forward and kissed her mistress on +the cheek. + +"I wush it was me!" she said, pushing Winsome from the room. + +The day was breaking red in the east when Winsome stepped out upon +the little wooden stoop, damp with the night mist, which seemed +somehow strange to her feet. She stepped down, giving a little +familiar pat to the bosom of her dress, as though to advertise to +any one who might be observing that it was her constant habit thus +to walk abroad in the dawn. + +Meg watched her as she went. Then she turned into the house to +stop the kitchen clock and out to lock the stable door. + +Through the trees Winsome saw Ralph long before he saw her. She +was a woman; he was only a naturalist and a man. She drew the +sunbonnet a little farther over her eyes. He started at last, +turned, and came eagerly towards her. + +Jock Gordon, who had remained about the farm, went quickly to the +gate at the end of the house as if to shut it. + +"Come back oot o' that," said Meg sharply. + +Jock turned quite as briskly. + +"I was gaun to stand wi' my back til't, sae that they micht ken +there was naebody luikin'. D'ye think Jock Gordon haes nae +mainners?" he said indignantly. + +"Staun wi' yer back to a creel o' peats, Jock; it'll fit ye +better!" ooserved Meg, giving him the wicker basket with the broad +leather strap which was used at Craig Ronald for bringing the +peats in from the stack. + +Winsome had not meant to look at Ralph as she came up to him. It +seemed a bold and impossible thing for her ever again to come to +him. The fear of a former time was still strong upon her. + +But as soon as she saw him, her eyes somehow could not leave his +face. He dropped his hat on the grass beneath, as he came forward +to meet her under the great branches of the oak-trees by the +little pond. She had meant to tell him that he must not touch her +--she was not to be touched; yet she went straight into his open +arms like a homing dove. Her great eyes, still dewy with the warm +light of love in them, never left his till, holding his love safe +in his arms, he drew her to him and upon her sweet lips took his +first kiss of love. + +"At last!" he said, after a silence. + +The sun was rising over the hills of heather. League after league +of the imperial colour rolled westward as the level rays of the +sun touched it. + +"Now do you understand, my beloved?" said Ralph. Perhaps it was +the red light of the sun, or only some roseate tinge from the +miles of Galloway heather that stretched to the north, but it is +certain that there was a glow of more than earthly beauty on +Winsome's face as she stood up, still within his arms, and said: + +"I do not understand at all, but I love you." + +Then, because there is nothing more true and trustful than the +heart of a good woman, or more surely an inheritance from the +maid-mother of the sinless garden than her way of showing that she +gives her all, Winsome laid her either hand on her lover's +shoulders and drew his face down to hers--laying her lips to his +of her own free will and accord, without shame in giving, or +coquetry of refusal, in that full kiss of first surrender which a +woman may give once, but never twice, in her life. + +This also is part of the proper heritage of man and woman, and +whoso has missed it may attain wealth or ambition, may exhaust the +earth--yet shall die without fully or truly living. + +A moment they stood in silence, swaying a little like twin flowers +in the wind of the morning. Then taking hands like children, they +slowly walked away with their faces towards the sunrise. There was +the light of a new life in their eyes. It is good sometimes to +live altogether in the present. "Sufficient unto the day is the +good thereof," is a proverb in all respects equal to the +scriptural original. + +For a little while they thus walked silently forward, and on the +crest of the ridge above the nestling farm Ralph paused to take +his last look of Craig Ronald. Winsome turned with him in complete +comprehension, though as yet he had told her no word of his +projects. Nor did she think of any possible parting, or of +anything save of the eyes into which she did not cease to look, +and the lover whose hand it was enough to hold. All true and pure +love is an extension of God--the gladness in the eyes of lovers, +the tears also, bridals and espousals, the wife's still happiness, +the delight of new-made homes, the tinkle of children's laughter. +It needs no learned exegete to explain to a true lover what John +meant when he said, "For God is love." These things are not gifts +of God, they are parts of him. + +It was at this moment that Meg Kissock, having seen them stand a +moment still against the sky, and then go down from their hilltop +towards the north, unlocked the stable door, at which Ebie +Fairrish had been vainly hammering from within for a quarter of an +hour. Then she went indoors and pulled close the curtains of +Winsome's little room. She came out, locked the bedroom door, and +put the key in her pocket. Her mistress had a headache. Meg was a +treasure indeed, as a thoughtful person about a household often +is. + +As Winsome and Ralph went down the farther slope of the hill, +towards the road that stretched away northward across the moors, +they fell to talking together very practically. They had much to +say. Before they had gone a mile the first strangeness had worn +off, and the stage of their intimacy may be inferred from the fact +that they were only at the edge of the great wood of Grannoch +bank, when Winsome reached the remark which undoubtedly Mother Eve +made to her husband after they had been some time acquainted: + +"Do you know, I never thought I should talk to any one as I am +talking to you?" + +Ralph allowed that it was an entirely wonderful thing--indeed, a +belated miracle. Strangely enough, he had experienced exactly the +same thought. "Was it possible?" smiled Winsome gladly, from under +the lilac sunbonnet. + +Such wondrous and unexampled correspondence of impression proved +that they were made for one another, did it not? At this point +they paused. Exercise in the early morning is fatiguing. Only the +unique character of these refreshing experiences induces us to put +them on record. + +Then Winsome and Ralph proceeded to other and not less +extraordinary discoveries. Sitting on a wind-overturned tree- +trunk, looking out from the edge of the fringing woods of the +Grannoch bank towards the swells of Cairnsmuir's green bosom, they +entered upon their position with great practicality. Nature, with +an unusual want of foresight, had neglected to provide a back to +this sylvan seat, so Ralph attended to the matter himself. This +shows that self-help is a virtue to be encouraged. + +Ralph had some disinclination to speak of the terrors of the night +which had forever rolled away. Still, he felt that the matter must +be cleared up; so that it was with doubt in his mind that he +showed Winsome the written line which had taken him to the bridge +instead of to the hill gate. + +"That's Jess Kissock's writing!" Winsome said at once. Ralph had +the same thought. So in a few moments they traced the whole plot +to its origin. It was a fit product of the impish brain of Jess +Kissock. Jess had sent the false note of appointment to Ralph by +Andra, knowing that he would be so exalted with the contents that +he would never doubt its accuracy. Then she had despatched Jock +Gordon with "Winsome's real letter to Greatorix Castle; in answer +to the supposed summons, which was genuine enough, though not +meant for him, Agnew Greatorix had come to the hill gate, and Jess +had met Ralph by the bridge to play her own cards as best she +could for herself. + +"How wicked!" said Winsome, "after all." + +"How foolish!" said Ralph, "to think for a moment that any one +could separate you and me." + +But Winsome bethought herself how foolishly jealous she had been +when she found Jess putting a flower into Ralph's coat, and Jess's +plot did not look quite so impossible as before. + +"I think, dear," said Ralph, "you must after this make your +letters so full of your love, that there can be no mistake whom +they are intended for." + +"I mean to," said Winsome frankly. + +There was also some fine scenery at this point. + +But there was no hesitation in Ralph Peden's tone when he settled +down steadily to tell her of his hopes. + +Winsome sat with her eyes downcast and her head a little to one +side, like a bright-eyed bird listening. + +"That is all true and delightful," she said, "but we must not be +selfish or forget." + +"We must remember one another!" said Ralph, with the absorption of +newly assured love. + +"We are in no danger of forgetting one another," said that wise +woman in counsel; "we must not forget others. There is your +father--you have not forgotten him." + +With a pang Ralph remembered that there was yet something that he +could not tell Winsome. He had not even been frank with her +concerning the reason of his leaving the manse and going to +Edinburgh. She only understood that it was connected with his love +for her, which was not approved of by the minister of the Marrow +kirk. + +"My father will be as much pleased with you as I," said Ralph, +with enthusiasm. + +"No doubt," said Winsome, laughing; "fathers always are with their +sons' sweethearts. But you have not forgotten something else?" + +"What may that be?" said Ralph doubtfully. + +"That I cannot leave my grandfather and grandmother at Craig +Ronald as they are. They have cared for me and given me a home +when I had not a friend. Would you love me as you do, if I could +leave them even to go out into the world with you?" + +"No," said Ralph very reluctantly, but like a man. + +"Then," said Winsome bravely, "go to Edinburgh. Fight your own +battle, and mine," she added. + +"Winsome," said Ralph, earnestly, for this serious and practical +side of her character was an additional and unexpected revelation +of perfection, "if you make as good a wife as you make a +sweetheart, you will make one man happy." + +"I mean to make a man happy," said Winsome, confidently. + +The scenery again asserted its claim to attention. Observation +enlarges the mind, and is therefore pleasant. + +After a pause, Winsome said irrelevantly. + +"And you really do not think me so foolish?" + +"Foolish! I think you are the wisest and--" + +"No, no." Winsome would not let him proceed. "You do not really +think so. You know that I am wayward and changeable, and not at +all what I ought to be. Granny always tells me so. It was very +different when she was young, she says. Do you know," continued +Winsome thoughtfully, "I used to be so frightened, when I knew +that you could read in all these wise books of which I did not +know a letter? But I must confess--I do not know what you will +say, you may even be angry--I have a note-book of yours which I +kept." + +But if Winsome wanted a new sensation she was disappointed, for +Ralph was by no means angry. + +"So that's where it went?" said Ralph, smiling gladly. + +"Yes," said Winsome, blushing not so much with guilt as with the +consciousness of the locality of the note-book at that moment, +which she was not yet prepared to tell him. But she consoled +herself with the thought that she would tell him one day. + +Strangely however, Ralph did not seem to care much about the book, +so Winsome changed the subject to one of greater interest. + +"And what else did you think about me that first day?--tell me," +said Winsome, shamelessly. + +It was Ralph's opportunity. + +"Why, you know very well, Winsome dear, that ever since the day I +first saw you I have thought that there never was any one like +you--" + +"Yes?" said Winsome, with a rising inflection in her voice. + +"I ever thought you the best and the kindest--" + +"Yes?" said Winsome, a little breathlessly. + +"The most helpful and the wisest--" + +"Yes?" said Winsome. + +"And the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life!" + +"Then I do not care for anything else!" cried Winsome, clapping +her hands. She had been resolving to learn Hebrew five minutes +before. + +"Nor do I, really," said Ralph, speaking out the inmost soul that +is in every young man. + +As Ralph Peden sat looking at Winsome the thought came sometimes +to him--but not often--"This is Allan Welsh's daughter, the +daughter of the woman whom my father once loved, who lies so still +under the green sod of Crossthwaite beneath the lea of Skiddaw." + +He looked at her eyes, deep blue like the depths of the +Mediterranean Sea, and, like it, shot through with interior light. + +"What are you thinking of?" asked Winsome, who had also meanwhile +been looking at him. + +"Of your eyes, dear!" said Ralph, telling half the truth--a good +deal for a lover. + +Winsome paused for further information, looking into the depths of +his soul. Ralph felt as though his heart and judgment were being +assaulted by storming parties. He looked into these wells of blue +and saw the love quivering in them as the broken light quivers, +deflected on its way through clear water to a sea bottom of golden +sand. + +"You want to hear me tell you something wiser," said Ralph, who +did not know everything; "you are bored with my foolish talk." + +And he would have spoken of the hopes of his future. + +"No, no; tell me--tell me what you see in my eyes," said Winsome, +a little impatiently. + +"Well then, first," said truthful Ralph, who certainly did not +flinch from the task, "I see the fairest thing God made for man to +see. All the beauty of the world, losing its way, stumbled, and +was drowned in the eyes of my love. They have robbed the sunshine, +and stolen the morning dew. The sparkle of the light on the water, +the gladness of a child when it laughs because it lives, the +sunshine which makes the butterflies dance and the world so +beautiful--all these I see in your eyes." + +"This story is plainly impossible. This practical girl was not one +to find pleasure in listening to flattery. Let us read no more in +this book." This is what some wise people will say at this point. +So, to their loss will they close the book. They have not achieved +all knowledge. The wisest woman would rather hear of her eyes than +of her mind. There are those who say the reverse, but then perhaps +no one has ever had cause to tell them concerning what lies hid in +their eyes. + +Many had wished to tell Winsome these things, but to no one +hitherto had been given the discoverer's soul, the poet's voice, +the wizard's hand to bring the answering love out of the deep sea +of divine possibilities in which the tides ran high and never a +lighthouse told of danger. + +"Tell me more," said Winsome, being a woman, as well as fair and +young. These last are not necessary; to desire to be told about +one's eyes, it is enough to be a woman. + +Ralph looked down. In such cases it is necessary to refresh the +imagination constantly with the facts. As in the latter days wise +youths read messages from the quivering needle of the talking +machine, so Ralph read his message flash by flash as it pulsated +upward from a pure woman's soul. + +"Once you would not tell me why your eyelashes were curled up at +the ends," said this eager Columbus of a new continent, drawing +the new world nearer his heart in order that his discoveries might +be truer, surer, in detail more trustworthy. "I know now without +telling. Would you like to know, Winsome?" + +Winsome drew a happy breath, nestling a little closer--so little +that no one but Ralph would have known. But the little shook him +to the depths of his soul. This it is to be young and for the +first time mastering the geography of an unknown and untraversed +continent. The unversed might have thought that light breath a +sigh, but no lover could have made the mistake. It is only in +books, wordy and unreal, that lovers misunderstand each other in +that way. + +"I know," said Ralph, needing no word of permission to proceed, +"it is with touching your cheek when you sleep." + +"Then I must sleep a very long time!" said Winsome merrily, making +light of his words. + +"Underneath in the dark of either eye," continued Ralph, who, be +it not forgotten, was a poet, "I see two young things like +cherubs." + +"I know," said Winsome; "I see myself in your eyes--you see +yourself in mine." + +She paused to note the effect of this tremendous discovery. + +"Then," replied Ralph, "if it be indeed my own self I see in your +eyes, it is myself as God made me at first without sin. I do not +feel at all like a cherub now, but I must have been once, if I +ever was like what I see in your eyes." + +"Now go on; tell me what else you see," said Winsome. + +"Your lips--" began Ralph, and paused. + +"No, six is quite enough," said Winsome, after a little while, +mysteriously. She had only two, and Ralph only two; yet she said +with little grammar and no sense at all, "Six is enough." + +But a voice from quite other lips came over the rising background +of scrub and tangled thicket. + +"Gang on coortin'," it said; "I'm no lookin', an' I canna see +onything onyway." + +It was Jock Gordon. He continued: + +"Jock Scott's gane hame till his breakfast. He'll no bother ye +this mornin', sae coort awa'." + +CHAPTEE XXXV. + +SUCH SWEET SORROW. + +WINSOME and Ralph laughed, but Winsome sat up and put straight her +sunbonnet. Sunbonnets are troublesome things. They will not stick +on one's head. Manse Bell contradicts this. She says that her +sunbonnet never comes off, or gets pushed back. As for other +people's, lasses are not what they were in her young days. + +"I must go home," said Winsome; "they will miss me." + +"You know that it is 'good-bye,' then," said Ralph. + +"What!" said Winsome, "shall I not see you to-morrow?" the bright +light of gladness dying out of her eye. And the smile drained down +out of her cheek like the last sand out of the sand-glass. + +"No," said Ralph quietly, keeping his eyes full on hers, "I cannot +go back to the manse after what was said. It is not likely that I +shall ever be there again." + +"Then when shall I see you?" said Winsome piteously. It is the cry +of all loving womanhood, whose love goes out to the battle or into +the city, to the business of war, or pleasure, or even of money- +getting. "Then when shall I see you. again?" said Winsome, saying +a new thing. There is nothing new under the sun, yet to lovers +like Winsome and Ralph all things are new. + +There was a catch in her throat. A salter dew gathered about her +eyes, and the pupils expanded till the black seemed to shut out +the blue. + +Very tenderly Ralph looked down, and said, "Winsome, my dear, very +soon I shall come again with more to ask and more to tell." + +"But you are not going straight away to Edinburgh now? You must +get a drive to Dumfries and take the Edinburgh coach." + +"I cannot do that," said Ralph; "I must walk all the way; it is +nothing." + +Winsome looked at Ralph, the motherly instinct that is in all true +love surging up even above the lover's instinct. It made her clasp +and unclasp her hands in distress, to think of him going away +alone over the waste moors, from the place where they had been so +happy. + +"And he will leave me behind!" she said, with a sudden fear of the +loneliness which would surely come when the bright universe was +emptied of Ralph. + +"Had it only been to-morrow, I could have borne it better," she +said. "Oh, it is too soon! How could he let us be so happy when he +was going away from me?" + +Winsome knew even better than Ralph that he must go, but the most +accurate knowledge of necessity does not prevent the resentful +feeling in a woman's heart when one she loves goes before his +time. + +But the latent motherhood in this girl rose up. If he were truly +hers, he was hers to take care of. Therefore she asked the +question which every mother asks, and no sweetheart who is nothing +but a sweetheart has ever yet asked: + +"Have you enough money?" + +Ralph blushed and looked most unhappy, for the first time since +the sun rose. + +"I have none at all," he said; "my father only gave me the money +for my journey to the Dullarg, and Mr. Welsh was to provide me +what was necessary--" He stopped here, it seemed such a hard and +shameful thing to say. "I have never had anything to do with +money," he said, hanging down his head. + +Now Winsome, who was exceedingly practical in this matter, went +forward to him quickly and put an arm upon his shoulder. + +"My poor boy!" she said, with the tenderest and sweetest +expression on her face. And again Ralph Peden perceived that there +are things more precious than much money. + +"Now bend your head and let me whisper." It was already bent, but +it was in his ear that Winsome wished to speak. + +"No, no, indeed I cannot, Winsome, my love; I could not, indeed, +and in truth I do not need it." + +Winsome dropped her arms and stepped back tragically. She put one +hand over the other upon her breast, and turned half way from him. + +"Then you do not love me," she said, purely as a coercive measure. + +"I do, I do--you know that I do; but I could not take it," said +Ralph, piteously. + +"Well, good-bye, then," said Winsome, without holding out her +hand, and turning away. + +"You do not mean it; Winsome, you cannot be cruel, after all. Come +back and sit down. We shall talk about it, and you will see--" + +Winsome paused and looked at him, standing so piteously. She says +now that she really meant to go away, but she smiles when she says +it, as if she did not quite believe the statement herself. But +something--perhaps the look in his eyes, and the thought that, +like herself, he had never known a mother--made her turn. Going +back, she took his hand and laid it against her cheek. + +"Ralph," she said, "listen to me; if _I_ needed help and had none +I should not be proud; I would not quarrel with you when you +offered to help me. No, I would even ask you for it! BUT THEN I +LOVE YOU." It was hardly fair. Winsome acknowledges as much +herself; but then a woman has no weapons but her wit and her +beauty--which is, seeing the use she can make of these two, on the +whole rather fortunate than otherwise. + +Ralph looked eager and a little frightened. + +"Would you do that really?" he asked eagerly. + +"Of course I should!" replied Winsome, a little indignantly. + +Ralph took her in his arms, and in such a masterful way, that +first she was frightened and then she was glad. It is good to feel +weak in the arms of a strong man who loves you. God made it so +when he made all things well. + +"My lassie!" said Ralph for all comment. + +Then fell a silence so prolonged that a shy squirrel in the boughs +overhead resumed his researches upon the tassels and young shoots +of the pine-tops, throwing down the debris in a contemptuous +manner upon Winsome and Ralph, who stood below, listening to the +beating of each other's hearts. + +Finally Winsome, without moving, produced apparently from regions +unknown a long green silk purse with three silver rings round the +middle. + +As she put it into Ralph's hand, something doubtful started again +into his eyes, but Winsome looked so fierce in a moment, and so +decidedly laid a finger on his lips, that perforce he was silent. + +As soon as he had taken it, Winsome clapped her hands (as well as +was at the time possible for her--it seemed, indeed, altogether +impossible to an outsider, yet it was done), and said: + +"You are not sorry, dear--you are glad?" with interrogatively +arched eyebrows. + +"Yes," said Ralph, "I am very glad." As indeed he might well be. + +"You see," said the wise young woman, "it is this way: all that is +my very own. _I_ am your very own, so what is in the purse is your +very own." + +Logic is great--greatest when the logician is distractingly +pretty; then, at least, it is sure to prevail--unless, indeed, the +opponent be blind, or another woman. This is why they do not +examine ladies orally in logic at the great colleges. + +We have often tried to recover Ralph's reply, but the text is +corrupt at this place, the context entirely lost. Experts suspect +a palimpsest. + +Perhaps we linger overly long on the records; but there is so much +called love in the world, which is no love, that there may be some +use in dwelling upon the histories of a love which was fresh and +tender, sweet and true. It is at once instruction for the young, +and for the older folk a cast back into the days that were. If to +any it is a mockery or a scorning, so much the worse--for of them +who sit in the scorner's chair the doom is written. + +Winsome and Ralph walked on into the eye of the day, hand in hand, +as was their wont. They crossed the dreary moor, which yet is not +dreary when you came to look at it on such a morning as this. + +The careless traveller glancing at it as he passed might call it +dreary; but in the hollows, miniature lakes glistened, into which +the tiny spurs of granite ran out flush with the water like +miniature piers. The wind of the morning waking, rippled on the +lakelets, and blew the bracken softly northward. The heather was +dark rose purple, the "ling" dominating the miles of moor; for the +lavender-grey flush of the true heather had not yet broken over +the great spaces of the south uplands. + +So their feet dragged slower as they drew near to that spot where +they knew they must part. There was no thought of going back. +There was even little of pain. + +Perfect love had done its work. All frayed and secondhand loves +may be made ashamed by the fearlessness of these two walking to +their farewell trysting-place, lonely amid the world of heather. +Only daft Jock Gordon above them, like a jealous scout, scoured +the heights--sometimes on all-fours, sometimes bending double, +with his long arms swinging like windmills, scaring even the sheep +and the deer lest they should come too near. Overhead there was +nothing nearer them than the blue lift, and even that had +withdrawn itself infinitely far away, as though the angels +themselves did not wish to spy on a later Eden. It was that +midsummer glory of love-time, when grey Galloway covers up its +flecked granite and becomes a true Purple Land. + +If there be a fairer spot within the four seas than this fringe of +birch-fringed promontory which juts into westernmost Loch Ken, I +do not know it. Almost an island, it is set about with the tiniest +beaches of white sand. From the rocks that look boldly up the loch +the heather and the saxifrage reflect themselves in the still +water. To reach it Winsome led Ralph among the scented gall-bushes +and bog myrtle, where in the marshy meadows the lonely grass of +Parnassus was growing. Pure white petals, veined green, with +spikelets of green set in the angles within, five-lobed broidery +of daintiest gold stitching, it shone with so clear a presage of +hope that Ralph stooped to pick it that he might give it to +Winsome. + +She stopped him. + +"Do not pull it," she said; "leave it for me to come and look at-- +when--when you are gone. It will soon wither if it is taken away; +but give me some of the bog myrtle instead," she added, seeing +that Ralph looked a little disappointed. + +Ralph gathered some of the narrow, brittle, fragrant leaves. +Winsome carefully kept half for herself, and as carefully inserted +a spray in each pocket of his coat. + +"There, that will keep you in mind of Galloway!" she said. And +indeed the bog myrtle is the characteristic smell of the great +world of hill and moss we call by that name. In far lands the mere +thought of it has brought tears to the eyes unaccustomed, so close +do the scents and sights of the old Free Province--the lordship of +the Picts--wind themselves about the hearts of its sons. + +"We transplant badly, we plants of the hills. You must come back +to me," said Winsome, after a pause of wondering silence. + +Loch Ken lay like a dream in the clear dispersed light of the +morning, the sun shimmering upon it as through translucent ground +glass. Teal and moor-hen squattered away from the shore as Winsome +and Ralph climbed the brae, and stood looking northward over the +superb levels of the loch. On the horizon Cairnsmuir showed golden +tints through his steadfast blue. + +Whaups swirled and wailed about the rugged side of Bennan above +their heads. Across the loch there was a solitary farm so +beautifully set that Ralph silently pointed it out to Winsome, who +smiled and shook her head. + +"The Shirmers has just been let on a nineteen years' lease," she +said, "eighteen to run." + +So practical was the answer, that Ralph laughed, and the strain of +his sadness was broken. He did not mean to wait eighteen years for +her, fathers or no fathers. + +Then beyond, the whole land leaped skyward in great heathery +sweeps, save only here and there, where about some hill farm the +little emerald crofts and blue-green springing oatlands clustered +closest. The loch spread far to the north, sleeping in the +sunshine. Burnished like a mirror it was, with no breath upon it. +In the south the Dee water came down from the hills peaty and +brown. The roaring of its rapids could faintly be heard. To the +east, across the loch, an island slept in the fairway, wooded to +the water's edge. + +It were a good place to look one's last on the earth, this wooded +promontory, which might indeed have been that mountain, though a +little one, from which was once seen all the kingdoms of the earth +and the glory of them. For there are no finer glories on the earth +than red heather and blue loch, except only love and youth. + +So here love and youth had come to part, between the heather that +glowed on the Bennan Hill and the sapphire pavement of Loch Ken. + +For a long time Winsome and Ralph were silent--the empty interior +sadness, mixed of great fear and great hunger, beginning to grip +them as they stood. Lives only just twined and unified were again +to twain. Love lately knit was to be torn asunder. Eyes were to +look no more into the answering eloquence of other eyes. + +"I must go," said Ralph, looking down into his betrothed's face. + +"Stay only a little," said Winsome. "It is the last time." + +So he stayed. + +Strange, nervous constrictions played at "cat's cradle" about +their hearts. Vague noises boomed and drummed in their ears, +making their own words sound strange and empty, like voices heard +in a dream. + +"Winsome!" said Ralph. + +"Ralph!" said Winsome. + +"You will never for a moment forget me?" said Winsome Charteris. + +"You will never for a moment forget me?" said Ralph Peden. + +The mutual answer taken and given, after a long silence of soul +and body in not-to-be-forgotten communion, they drew apart. + +Ralph went a little way down the birch-fringed hill, but turned to +look a last look. Winsome was standing where he had left her. +Something in her attitude told of the tears steadily falling upon +her summer dress. It was enough and too much. + +Ralph ran back quickly. + +"I cannot go away, Winsome. I cannot bear to leave you like this!" + +Winsome looked at him and fought a good fight, like the brave girl +she was. Then she smiled through her tears with the sudden +radiance of the sun upon a showery May morning when the white +hawthorn is coming out. + +At this a sob, dangerously deep, rending and sudden, forced itself +from Ralph's throat. Her smile was infinitely more heart-breaking +than her tears. Ralph uttered a kind of low inarticulate roar at +the sight--being his impotent protest against his love's pain. Yet +such moments are the ineffaceable treasures of life, had he but +known it. Many a man's deeds follow his vows simply because his +lips have tasted the salt water of love's ocean upon the face of +the beloved. + +"Be brave, Winsome," said Ralph; "it shall not be for long." + +Yet she was braver than he, had he but known it; for it is the +heritage of the woman to be the stronger in the crises which +inevitably wait upon love and love's achievement. + +Winsome bent to kiss, with a touch like a benediction, not his +lips now but his brow, as he stood beneath her on the hill slope. + +"Go," she said; "go quickly, while I have the strength. I will be +brave. Be thou brave also. God be with thee!" + +So Ralph turned and fled while he could. He dared not trust +himself to look till he was past the hill and some way across the +moor. Then he turned and looked back over the acres of heather +which he had put between himself and his love. + +Winsome still stood on the hill-top, the sun shining on her face. +In her hand was the lilac sunbonnet, making a splash of faint pure +colour against the blonde whiteness of her dress. Ralph could just +catch the golden shimmer of her hair. He knew but he could not see +how it crisped and tendrilled about her brow, and how the light +wind blew it into little cirrus wisps of sun-flossed gold. The +thought that for long he should see it no more was even harder +than parting. It is the hard things on this earth that are the +easiest to do. The great renunciation is easy, but it is +infinitely harder to give up the sweet, responsive delight of the +eye, the thought, the caress. This also is human. God made it. + +The lilac sunbonnet waved a little heartless wave which dropped in +the middle as if a string were broken. But the shining hair blew +out, as a waft of wind from the Bennan fretted a moving patch +across the loch. + +Ralph flung out his hand in one of the savage gestures men use +when they turn bewildered and march away, leaving the best of +their lives behind them. + +So shutting his eyes Ralph plunged headlong into the green glades +of the Kenside and looked no more. Winsome walked slowly and +sedately back, not looking on the world any more, but only twining +and pulling roughly the strings of her sunbonnet till one came +off. Winsome threw it on the grass. What did it matter now? She +would wear it no longer. There was none to cherish the lilac +sunbonnet any more. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWA'. + + +Winsome came back to a quiet Craig Ronald. The men were in the +field. The farmsteading was hushed, Meg not to be seen, the dogs +silent, the bedroom blind undrawn when she entered to find the key +in the door. She went within instantly and threw herself down upon +the bed. Outside, the morning sun strengthened and beat on the +shining white of the walls of Craig Ronald, and on Ralph far +across the moors. + +Winsome must wait. We shall follow Ralph. It is the way of the +world at any rate. The woman always must wait and nothing said. +With the man are the keen interests of the struggle, the grip of +opposition, the clash of arms. With the woman, naught worth +speaking of--only the silence, the loneliness, and waiting. + +Ralph went northward wearing Winsome's parting kiss on his brow +like an insignia of knighthood. It meant much to one who had never +gone away before. So simple was he that he did not know that there +are all-experiencing young men who love and sail away, clearing as +they go the decks of their custom-staled souls for the next +action. + +He stumbled, this simple knight, blindly into the ruts and pebbly +water courses down which the winter rains had rushed, tearing the +turf clean from the granite during the November and February +rains. + +So he journeyed onward, heedless of his going. + +To him came Jock Gordon, skipping like a wild goat down the Bennan +side. + +"Hey, mon, d'ye want to drive intil Loch Ken? Ye wad mak' braw +ged-bait. Haud up the hill, breest to the brae." + +Through his trouble Ralph heard and instinctively obeyed. In a +little while he struck the beautiful road which runs north and +south along the side of the long loch of Ken. Now there are fairer +bowers in the south sunlands. There are Highlands and Alp-lands of +sky-piercing beauty. But to Galloway, and specially to the central +glens and flanking desolations thereof, one beauty belongs. She is +like a plain girl with beautiful eyes. There is no country like +her in the world for colour--so delicately fresh in the rain- +washed green of her pasture slopes, so keen the viridian +[Footnote: Veronese green] of her turnip-fields when the dew is on +the broad, fleshy, crushed leaves, so tender and deep the blue in +the hollow places. It was small wonder that Ralph had set down in +the note-book in which he sketched for future use all that passed +under his eye: + + "Hast thou seen the glamour that follows + The falling of summer rain- + The mystical blues in the hollows, + The purples and greys on the plain?" + +It is true that all these things were but the idle garniture of a +tale that had lost its meaning to Ralph this morning; but yet in +time the sense that the beauty and hope of life lay about him +stole soothingly upon his soul. He was glad to breathe the +gracious breaths of spraying honeysuckle running its creamy riot +of honey-drenched petals over the hedges, and flinging daring +reconnaissances even to the tops of the dwarf birches by the +wayside. + +So quickly Nature eased his smart, that--for such is the nature of +the best men, even of the very best--at the moment when Winsome +threw herself, dazed and blinded with pain, upon her low white bed +in the little darkened chamber over the hill at Craig Ronald, +Ralph was once more, even though with the gnaw of emptiness and +loss in his heart, looking forward to the future, and planning +what the day would bring to him on which he should return. + +Even as he thought he began to whistle, and his step went lighter, +Jock Gordon moving silently along the heather by his side at a +dog's trot. Let no man think hardly of Ralph, for this is the +nature of the man. It was not that man loves the less, but that +with him in his daring initiative and strenuous endeavour the +future lies. + +The sooner, then, that he could compass and overpass his +difficulties the more swiftly would his face be again set to the +south, and the aching emptiness of his soul be filled with a +strange and thrilling expectancy. The wind whistled in his face as +he rounded the Bennan and got his first glimpse of the Kells +range, stretching far away over surge after surge of heather and +bent, through which, here and there, the grey teeth of the granite +shone. It is no blame to him that, as he passed on from horizon to +horizon, each step which took him farther and farther from Craig +Ronald seemed to bring him nearer and nearer to Winsome. He was +going away, yet with each mile he regained the rebounding spirit +of youth, while Winsome lay dazed in her room at Craig Ronald. But +let it not be forgotten that he went in order that no more she +might so lie with the dry mechanic sobs catching ever and anon in +her throat. So the world is not so ill divided, after all. And, +being a woman, perhaps Winsome's grief was as dear and natural to +her as Ralph's elastic hopefulness. + +Soon Ralph and Jock Gordon were striding across the moors towards +Moniaive. Ralph wished to breakfast at one of the inns in New +Galloway, but this Jock Gordon would not allow. He did not like +that kind o' folk, he said. + +"Gie's tippens, an' that'll serve brawly," said Jock. + +Ralph drew out Winsome's purse; he looked at it reverently and put +it back again. It seemed too early, and too material a use of her +love-token. + +"Nae sillar in't?" queried Jock. "How's that? It looks brave and +baggy." + +"I think I will do without for the present," said Ralph. + +"Aweel," said Jock, "ye may, but I'm gaun to hae my breakfast a' +the same, sillar or no sillar." + +In twenty minutes he was back by the dykeside, where he had left +Ralph sitting, twining Winsome's purse through his fingers, and +thinking on the future, and all that was awaiting him in Edinburgh +town. + +Jock seemed what he had called Winsome's purse--baggy. + +Then he undid himself. From under the lower buttons of his long +russet "sleeved waistcoat" with the long side flaps which, along +with his sailor-man's trousers, he wore for all garment, he drew a +barn-door fowl, trussed and cooked, and threw it on the ground. +Now came a dozen farles of cake, crisp and toothsome, from the +girdle, and three large scones raised with yeast. + +Then followed, out of some receptacle not too strictly to be +localized, half a pound of butter, wrapped in a cabbage-leaf, and +a quart jug of pewter. + +Ralph looked on in amazement. + +"Where did you get all these?" he asked. + +"Get them? Took them!" said Jock succinctly. "I gaed alang to +Mistress MacMorrine's, an' says I, 'Guid-mornin' till ye, +mistress, an' hoo's a' wi' ye the day?' for I'm a ceevil chiel +when folks are ceevil to me." + +"'Nane the better for seein' you, Jock Gordon,' says she, for +she's an unceevil wife, wi' nae mair mainners nor gin she had just +come ower frae Donnachadee--the ill-mainnered randy. + +"'But,' says I, 'maybes ye wad be the better o' kennin' that the +kye's eatin' your washin' up on the loan. I saw Provost Weir's +muckle Ayreshire halfway through wi' yer best quilt,' says I. + +"She flung up her hands. + +"'Save us!' she cries; 'could ye no hae said that at first?' + +"An' wi' that she ran as if Auld Hornie was at her tail, screevin' +ower the kintra as though she didna gar the beam kick at twa +hunderweicht guid." + +"But was that true, Jock Gordon?" asked Ralph, astounded. + +"True!--what for wad it be true? Her washin' is lyin' bleachin', +fine an' siccar, but she get a look at it and a braw sweet. A race +is guid exercise for ony yin that its as muckle as Luckie +MacMorrine." + +"But the provisions--and the hen?" asked Ralph, fearing the worst. + +"They were on her back-kitchen table. There they are now," said +Jock, pointing with his foot, as though that was all there was to +say about the matter. + +"But did you pay for them?" he asked. + +"Pay for them! Does a dowg pay for a sheep's heid when he gangs +oot o' the butcher's shop wi' yin atween his teeth, an' a twa-pund +wecht playin' dirl on his hench-bane? Pay for't! Weel, I wat no! +Didna yer honour tell me that ye had nae sillar, an' sae gaed it +in hand to Jock?" + +Ralph started up. This might be a very serious matter. He pulled +out Winsome's purse again. In the end he tried first there was +silver, and in the other five golden guineas in a little silken +inner case. One of the guineas Ralph took out, and, handing it to +Jock, he bade him gather up all that he had stolen and take his +way back with them. Then he was to buy them from Luckie MacMorrine +at her own price. + +"Sic a noise aboot a bit trifle!" said Jock. "What's aboot a bit +chuckle an' a heftin' o' cake? Haivers!" + +But very quickly Ralph prevailed upon him, and Jock took the +guinea. At his usual swift wolf's lope he was out of sight over +the long stretches of heather and turf so speedily that he arrived +at the drying-ground on the hillside before Luckie MacMorrine, +handicapped by her twenty stone avoirdupois, had perspired +thither. + +Jock met her at the gate. + +"Noo, mistress," exclaimed Jock, busily smoothing out the wrinkles +and creases of a fine linen sheet, with "E. M. M." on the corner, +"d'ye see this? I juist gat here in time, and nae mair. Ye see, +thae randies o' kye, wi' their birses up, they wad sune hae seen +the last o' yer bonny sheets an' blankets, gin I had letten them." + +Mistress MacMorrine did not waste a look on the herd of cows, but +proceeded to go over her washing with great care. Jock had just +arrived in time to make hay of it, before the owner came puffing +up the road. Had she looked at the cows curiously it might have +struck her that they were marvellously calm for such ferocious +animals. This seemed to strike Jock, for he went after them, +throwing stones at them in the manner known as "henchin'" [jerking +from the side], much practised in Galloway, and at which Jock was +a remarkable adept. Soon he had them excited enough for anything, +and pursued them with many loud outcryings till they were +scattered far over the moor. + +When he came back he said: "Mistress MacMorrine, I ken brawly that +ye'll be wushin' to mak' me some sma' recompense for my trouble +an' haste. Weel, I'll juist open my errand to ye. Ye see the way +o't was this: There is twa gentlemen shooters on the moors, the +Laird o' Balbletherum an' the Laird o' Glower-ower-'em-twa +respectit an' graund gentlemen. They war wantin' some luncheon, +but they were that busy shootin' that they hadna time to come, so +they says to me, 'Jock Gordon, do ye ken an honest woman in this +neighbourhood that can supply something to eat at a reasonable +chairge?' 'Yes,' says I, 'Mistress MacMorrine is sic a woman, an' +nae ither.' 'Do ye think she could pit us up for ten days or a +fortnight?' says they. 'I doot na', for she's weel plenisht an' +providit,' I says. 'Noo, I didna ken but ye micht be a lang time +detained wi' the kye (as indeed ye wad hae been, gin I hadna come +to help ye), an' as the lairds couldna be keepit, I juist took up +the bit luncheon that I saw on your kitchie table, an' here it is, +on its way to the wames o' the gentlemen--whilk is an honour +till't.'" + +Mistress MacMorrine did not seem to be very well pleased at the +unceremonious way in which Jock had dealt with the contents of her +larder, but the inducement was too great to be gainsaid. + +"Ye'll mak' it reasonable, nae doot," said Jock, "sae as to gie +the gentlemen a good impression. There's a' thing in a first +impression." + +"Tak' it till them an' welcome--wi' the compliments o' Mrs. +MacMorrine o' the Blue Bell, mind an' say till them. Ye may +consider it a recognition o' yer ain trouble in the matter o' the +kye; but I will let the provost hear o't on the deafest side o' +his heid when he ca's for his toddy the nicht." + +"Thank ye, mistress," said Jock, quickly withdrawing with his +purchases; "there's nocht like obleegements for makin' freends." + +At last Ralph saw Jock coming at full speed over the moor. + +He went forward to him anxiously. + +"Is it all right?" he asked. + +"It's a' richt, an' a' paid for, an' mair, gin ye like to send +Jock for't; an' I wasna to forget Mistress MacMorrine's +compliments to ye intil the bargain." + +Ralph looked mystified. + +"Ye wadna see the Laird o' Balbletherum? Did ye?" said Jock, +cocking his impudent, elvish head to the side. + +"Who is he?" asked Ralph. + +"Nor yet the Laird o' Glower--ower--'em?" + +"I have seen nobody from the time you went away," said Ralph. + +"Then we'll e'en fa' to. For gin thae twa braw gentlemen arena +here to partake o' the guid things o' this life, then there's the +mair for you an' Jock Gordon." + +Jock never fully satisfied Ralph's curiosity as to the manner in +which he obtained this provender. Luckie Morrine bestowed it upon +him for services rendered, he said; which was a true, though +somewhat abbreviated and imperfect account of the transaction. + +What the feelings of the hostess of the Blue Bell were when night +passed without the appearance of the two lairds, for whom she had +spread her finest sheets, and looked out her best bottles of wine, +we have no means of knowing. Singularly enough, for some +considerable time thereafter Jock patronized the "Cross Keys" when +he happened to be passing that way. He "preferred it to the Blue +Bell," he said. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +UNDER THE BED HEATHER. + + +So refreshed, Ralph and Jock passed on their way. All the forenoon +they plodded steadily forward. From Moniaive they followed the +windings of a flashing burn, daching and roaring in a shallow +linn, here and there white with foam and fretting, and again +dimpling black in some deep and quiet pool. Through the ducal +village of Thornhill and so northward along the Nithside towards +the valley of the Menick they went. The great overlapping purple +folds of the hills drew down about these two as they passed. Jock +Gordon continually scoured away to either side like a dog fresh +off the leash. Ralph kept steadily before him the hope in his +heart that before long the deep cleft would be filled up and that +for always. + +It so happened that it was night when they reached the high summit +of the Leadhills and the village of Wanlockhead gleamed grey +beneath them. Ralph proposed to go down and get lodgings there; +but Jock had other intentions. + +"What for," he argued, "what for should ye pay for the breadth of +yer back to lie doon on? Jock Gordon wull mak' ye juist as +comfortable ablow a heather buss as ever ye war in a bed in the +manse. Bide a wee!" + +Jock took him into a sheltered little "hope," where they were shut +in from the world of sheep and pit-heads. + +With his long, broad-bladed sheath-knife Jock was not long in +piling under the sheltered underside of a great rock over which +the heather grew, such a heap of heather twigs as Ralph could +hardly believe had been cut in so short a time. These he compacted +into an excellent mattress, springy and level, with pliable +interlacings of broom. + +"Lie ye doon there, an' I'll mak' ye a bonnie plaidie," said Jock. + +There was a little "cole" or haystack of the smallest sort close +at hand. To this Jock went, and, throwing off the top layer as +possibly damp, he carried all the rest in his arms and piled it on +Ralph till he was covered up to his neck. + +"We'll mak' a' snod [neat] again i' the mornin'!" he said. "Noo, +we'll theek [thatch] ye, an' feed ye!" said Jock comprehensively. +So saying, he put other layers of heather, thinner than the +mattress underneath, but arranged in the same way, on the top of +the hay. + +"Noo ye're braw an' snug, are ye na'? What better wad ye hae been +in a three-shillin' bed?" + +Then Jock made a fire of broken last year's heather. This he +carefully watched to keep it from spreading, and on it he roasted +half a dozen plover's eggs which he had picked up during the day +in his hillside ranging. On these high moors the moor-fowls go on +laying till August. These being served on warmed and buttered +scones, and sharpened with a whiff of mordant heather smoke, were +most delicious to Ralph, who smiled to himself, well pleased under +his warm covering of hay and overthatching of heather. + +After each egg was supplied to him piping hot, Jock would say: + +"An' isna that as guid as a half-croon supper?" + +Then another pee-wit's egg, delicious and fresh-- + +"Luckie Morrine couldna beat that," said Jock. + +There was a surprising lightness in the evening air, the elastic +life of the wide moorland world settling down to rest for a couple +of hours, which is all the night there is on these hill-tops in +the crown of the year. + +Jock Gordon covered himself by no means so elaborately as he had +provided for Ralph, saying: "I hae covered you for winter, for +ye're but a laddie; the like o' me disna need coverin' when the +days follow yin anither like sheep jumpin' through a slap." + +Ralph was still asleep when the morning came. But when the young +sun looked over the level moors--for they were on the very top of +the heathery creation--Jock Gordon made a little hillock of dewy +heather to shelter Ralph from the sun. He measured at the same +time a hand's breadth in the sky, saying to himself, "I'll wakken +the lad when he gets to there!" He was speaking of the sun. + +But before the flood of light overtopped the tiny break-water and +shot again upon Ralph's face, he sat up bewildered and astonished, +casting a look about him upon the moorland and its crying birds. + +Jock Gordon was just coming towards him, having scoured the face +of the ridge for more plover's eggs. + +"Dinna rise," said Jock, "till I tak' awa' the beddin'. Ye see," +continued the expert in camping out on hills, "the hay an' the +heather gets doon yer neck an' mak's ye yeuk [itch] an' fidge a' +day. An' at first ye mind that, though after a while gin ye dinna +yeuk, ye find it michty oninterestin'!" + +Ralph sat up. Something in Jock's bare heel as he sat on the grass +attracted his attention. + +"Wi', Jock," he said, infinitely astonished, "what's that in yer +heel?" + +"Ou!" said Jock, "it's nocht but a nail!" + +"A nail!" said Ralph; "what are ye doin' wi' a nail in yer foot?" + +"I gat it in last Martinmas," he said. + +"But why do you not get it out? Does it not hurt?" said Ralph, +compassionating. + +"'Deed did it awhile at the first," said Jock, "but I got used to +it. Ye can use wi' a'thing. Man's a wunnerful craitur!" + +"Let me try to pull it out," said Ralph, shivering to think of the +pain he must have suffered. + +"Na, na, ye ken what ye hae, but ye dinna ken what ye micht get. I +ken what I hae to pit up wi', wi' a nail in my fit; but wha kens +what it micht be gin I had a muckle hole ye could pit yer finger +in? It wadna be bonny to hae the clocks howkin' [beetles digging] +and the birdies biggin' their nests i' my heel! Na, na, it's a +guid lesson to be content wi' yer doon-settin', or ye may get +waur!" + +It was in the bright morning light that these two took the +Edinburgh road, which clambered down over the hillsides by the +village of Leadhills into the valley of the Clyde. Through +Abingdon and Biggar they made their way, and so admirable were +Jock's requisitioning abilities that Winsome's green purse was +never once called into action. + +When they looked from the last downward step of the Mid-Lothian +table-land upon the city of Edinburgh, there was a brisk starting +of smoke from many chimneys, for the wives of the burgesses were +kindling their supper fires, and their husbands were beginning to +come in with the expectant look of mankind about meal-time. + +"Come wi' me, Jock, and I'll show ye Edinburgh, as ye have showed +me the hills of heather!" This was Ralph's invitation. + +"Na," said Jock, "an' thank ye kindly a' the same. There's muckle +loons there that micht snap up a guid-lookin' lad like Jock, an' +ship him ontill their nesty ships afore he could cry 'Mulquarchar +and Craignell!' Jock Gordon may be a fule, but he kens when he's +weel aff. Nae Auld Reekies for him, an' thank ye kindly. When he +wants to gang to the gaol he'll steal a horse an' gang daicent! +He'll no gang wi' his thoom in his mooth, an' when they say till +him, 'What are ye here for?' be obleeged to answer, 'Fegs, an' I +dinna ken what for!' Na, na, it wadna be mensefu' like ava'. A' +the Gordons that ever was hae gaen to the gaol--but only yince. +It's aye been a hangin' maitter, an' Jock's no the man to turn +again the rule an' custom o' his forebears. 'Yince gang, yince +hang,' is Jock's motto." + +Ralph did not press the point. But he had some unexpected feeling +in saying good-bye to Jock. It was not so easy. He tried to put +three of Winsome's guineas into his hand, but Jock would have none +of them. + +"ME wi' gowden guineas!" he said. "Surely ye maun hae an ill-wull +at puir Jock, that wusses ye weel; what wad ony body say gin I +poo'ed out sic a lump of gowd? 'There's that loon Jock been +breakin' somebody's bank,' an' then 'Fare-ye-weel, Kilaivie,' to +Jock's guid name. It's gane, like his last gless o' whusky, never +to return." + +"But you are a long way from home, Jock; how will you get back?" + +"Hoots, haivers, Maister Ralph, gin Jock has providit for you that +needs a' things as gin ye war in a graund hoose, dinna be feared +for Jock, that can eat a wamefu' o' green heather-taps wi' the dew +on them like a bit flafferin' grouse bird. Or Jock can catch the +muir-fowl itsel' an' eat it ablow a heather buss as gin he war a +tod [fox]. Hoot awa' wi' ye! Jock can fend for himsel' brawly. +Sillar wad only tak' the edge aff his genius." + +"Then is there nothing that I can bring you from Edinburgh when I +come again?" said Ralph, with whom the coming again was ever +present. + +"'Deed, aye, gin ye are so ceevil--it's richt prood I wad be o' a +boxfu' o' Maister Cotton's Dutch sneeshin'--him that's i' the High +Street--they say it's terrible graund stuff. Wullie Hulliby gat +some when he was up wi' his lambs, an' he said that, after the +first snifter, he grat for days. It maun be graund!" + +Ralph promised, with gladness to find some way of easing his load +of debt to Jock. + +"Noo, Maister Ralph, it's a wanchancy [uncertain] place, this +Enbra', an' I'll stap aff an' on till the morrow's e'en here or +hereaboots, for sae it micht be that ye took a notion to gang back +amang kent fowk, whaur ye wad be safe an' soun'." + +"But, Jock," urged Ralph, "ye need not do that. I was born and +brought up in Edinburgh!" + +"That's as may be; gin I bena mista'en, there's a byous +[extraordinary] heap o' things has happened since then. Gang yer +ways, but gin ye hae message or word for Jock, juist come cannily +oot, an' he'll be here till dark the morn." + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +BEFORE THE REFORMER'S CHAIR. + + +"The Lord save us, Maister Ralph, what's this?" said John +Bairdieson, opening the door of the stair in James's Court. It was +a narrow hall that it gave access to, more like a passage than a +hall. "Hoo hae ye come? An' what for didna Maister Welsh or you +write to say ye war comin'? An' whaur's a' the buiks an' the +gear?" continued John Bairdieson. + +"I have walked all the way, John," said Ralph. "I quarrelled with +the minister, and he turned me to the door." + +"Dear sirce!" said John anxiously, "was't ill-doing or unsound +doctrine?" + +"Mr. Welsh said that he could not company with unbelievers." + +"Then it's doctrine--wae's me, wae's me! I wuss it had been the +lasses. What wull his faither say? Gin it had been ill-doin', he +micht hae pitten it doon to the sins o' yer youth; but ill- +doctrine he canna forgie. O Maister Ralph, gin ye canna tell a lee +yersel', wull ye no haud yer tongue--I can lee, for I'm but an +elder--an' I'll tell him that at a kirn [harvest festival] ye war +persuaded to drink the health o' the laird, an' you no bein' +acquant wi' the strength o' Glenlivat--" + +"John, John, indeed I cannot allow it. Besides, you're a sailor- +man, an' even in Galloway they do not have kirns till the corn's +ripe," replied Ralph with a smile. + +"Aweel, can ye no say, or let me say for ye, gin ye be particular, +that ye war a wee late oot at nicht seein' a bit lassie--or ocht +but the doctrine? It wasna anything concernin' the fundamentals o' +the Marrow, Maister Ralph, though, surely," continued John +Bairdieson, whose elect position did not prevent him from doing +his best for the interests of his masters, young and old. Indeed, +to start with the acknowledged fact of personal election sometimes +gives a man like John Bairdieson an unmistakable advantage. Ralph +went to his own room, leaving John Bairdieson listening, as he +prayed to be allowed to do, at the door of his father's room. + +In a minute or two John Bairdieson came up, with a scared face. + +"Ye're to gang doon, Maister Ralph, an' see yer faither. But, O +sir, see that ye speak lown [calm] to him. He hasna gotten sleep +for twa nichts, an' he's fair pitten by himsel' wi' thae ill-set +Conformists--weary fa' them! that he's been in the gall o' +bitterness wi'." + +Ralph went down to his father's study. Knocking softly, he +entered. His father sat in his desk chair, closed in on every +side. It had once been the pulpit of a great Reformer, and each +time that Gilbert Peden shut himself into it, he felt that he was +without father or mother save and except the only true and proper +Covenant-keeping doctrine in broad Scotland, and the honour and +well-being of the sorely dwindled Kirk of the Marrow. + +Gilbert Peden was a noble make of a man, larger in body though +hardly taller than his son. He wore a dark-blue cloth coat with +wide flaps, and the immense white neckerchief on which John +Bairdieson weekly expended all his sailor laundry craft. His face +was like his son's, as clear-cut and statuesque, though larger and +broader in frame and mould. There was, however, a coldness about +the eye and a downward compression of the lips, which speaks the +man of narrow though fervid enthusiasms. + +Ralph went forward to his father. As he came, his father stayed +him with the palm of his hand, the finger-tips turned upward. + +"Abide, my son, till I know for what cause you have left or been +expelled from the house of the man to whom I committed you during +your trials for license. Answer me, why have you come away from +the house of Allan Welsh like a thief in the night?" + +"Father," said Ralph, "I cannot tell you everything at present, +because the story is not mine to tell. Can you not trust me?" + +"I could trust you with my life and all that I possess," said his +father; "they are yours, and welcome; but this is a matter that +affects your standing as a probationer on trials in the kirk of +the Marrow, which is of divine institution. The cause is not mine, +my son. Tell me that the cause of your quarrel had nothing to do +with the Marrow kirk and your future standing in it, and I will +ask you no more till you choose to tell me of your own will +concerning the matter." + +The Marrow minister looked at his son with a gleam of tenderness +forcing its way through the sternness of his words. + +But Ralph was silent. + +"It was indeed in my duty to the Marrow kirk that Mr. Welsh +considered that I lacked. It was for this cause that he refused to +company further with me." + +Then there came a hardness as of grey hill stone upon the +minister's face. It was not a pleasant thing to see in a father's +face. + +"Then," he said slowly, "Ralph Peden, this also is a manse of the +Marrow kirk, and, though ye are my own son, I cannot receive ye +here till your innocence is proven in the presbytery. Ye must +stand yer trials." + +Ralph bowed his head. He had not been unprepared for something +like this, but the pain he might have felt at another time was +made easier by a subtle anodyne. He hardly seemed to feel the +smart as a week before he might have done. In some strange way +Winsome was helping him to bear it--or her prayers for him were +being answered. + +John Bairdieson broke into the study, his grey hair standing on +end, and the shape of the keyhole cover imprinted on his brow +above his left eye. John could see best with his left eye, and +hear best with his right ear, which he had some reason to look +upon as a special equalization of the gifts of Providence, though +not well adapted for being of the greatest service at keyholes. + +"Save us, minister!" he burst out; "the laddie's but a laddie, an' +na doot his pranks hae upset guid Maister Welsh a wee. Lads will +be lads, ye ken. But Maister Ralph's soond on the fundamentals--I +learned him the Shorter Questions mysel', sae I should ken--forbye +the hunner an' nineteenth Psalm that he learned on my knee, and +how to mak' a Fifer's knot, an' the double reef, an' a heap o' +usefu' knowledge forbye; an' noo to tak' it into your heid that +yer ain son's no soond in the faith, a' because he has fa'en oot +wi' a donnert auld carle--" + +"John," said the minister sternly, "leave the room! You have no +right to speak thus of an honoured servant of the kirk of the +Marrow." + +Ralph could see through the window the light fading off the Fife +Lomonds, and the long line of the shore darkening under the night +into a more ethereal blue. + +There came to him in this glimpse of woods and dewy pastures +overseas a remembrance of a dearer shore. The steading over the +Grannoch Loch stood up clear before him, the blue smoke going +straight up, Winsome's lattice standing open with the roses +peeping in, and the night airs breathing lovingly through them, +airing it out as a bed-chamber for the beloved. + +The thought made his heart tender. To his father he said: + +"Father, will you not take my word that there is nothing wicked or +disgraceful in what I have done? If it were my own secret, I would +gladly tell you at once; but as it is, I must wait until in his +own time Mr. Welsh communicates with you." + +The minister, sitting in the Reformer's seat, pulling at his stern +upper lip, winced; and perhaps had it not been for the pulpit the +human in him might have triumphed. But he only said: + +"I am quite prepared to support you until such time as at a +meeting of the presbytery the matter be tried, but I cannot have +in a Marrow Manse one living under the fama of expulsion from the +house of a brother minister in good standing." + +"Thank you, father," said his son, "for your kind offer, but I do +not think I shall need to trouble you." + +And so with these words the young man turned and went out proudly +from the father's sight, as he had gone from the manse of the +other minister of the Marrow kirk. + +As he came to the outside of the door, leaving his father sitting +stately and stern in the Reformer's pulpit, he said, in the deeps +of his heart: + +"God do so to me, and more also, if I ever seek again to enter the +Marrow kirk, if so be that, like my father, I must forget my +humanity in order worthily to serve it!" + +After he had gone out, the Reverend Gilbert Peden took his Bible +and read the parable of the prodigal son. He closed the great +book, which ever lay open before him, and said, as one who both +accuses and excuses himself: + +"But the prodigal son was not under trials for license in the kirk +of the Marrow!" + +At the door, John Bairdieson, his hair more than ever on end, met +Ralph. He held up his hands. + +"It's an awfu'--like thing to be obleegit to tell the hale truth! +O man, couldna ye hae tell't a wee bit lee? It wad hae saved an +awfu' deal o' fash! But it's ower late now; ye can juist bide i' +the spare room up the stair, an' come an' gang by door on the +Castle Bank, an' no yin forbye mysel' 'ill be a hair the wiser. I, +John Bairdieson, 'll juist fetch up yer meals the same as +ordinar'. Ye'll be like a laddie at the mastheid up there; it'll +be braw an' quate for the studyin'!" + +"John, I am much obliged to you for your kind thought," said +Ralph, "but I cannot remain in his house against my father's +expressed wish, and without his knowledge." + +"Hear till him! Whaur else should he bide but in the hoose that he +was born in, an' his faither afore him? That would be a bonny like +story. Na, na, ye'll juist bide, Maister Ralph, an'--" + +"I must go this very night," said Ralph. "You mean well, John, but +it cannot be. I am going down to see my uncle, Professor +Thriepneuk." + +"Leave yer faither's hoose to gang to that o' a weezened auld--" + +"John!" said Ralph, warningly. + +"He's nae uncle o' yours, onygate, though he married your mother's +sister. An' a sair life o't she had wi' him, though I doot na but +thae dochters o' his sort him to richts noo." + +So, in spite of John Bairdieson's utmost endeavours, and waiting +only to put his clothes together, Ralph took his way over to the +Sciennes, where his uncle, the professor, lived in a new house +with his three daughters, Jemima, Kezia, and Keren-happuch. The +professor had always been very kind to Ralph. He was not a Marrow +man, and therefore, according to the faith of his father, an +outcast from the commonwealth. But he was a man of the world of +affairs, keen for the welfare of his class at the University +College--a man crabbed and gnarled on the surface, but within him +a strong vein of tenderness of the sort that always seems ashamed +of catching its possessor in a kind action. + +To him Ralph knew that he could tell the whole story. The Sciennes +was on the very edge of the green fields. The corn-fields +stretched away from the dyke of the Professor's garden to the +south towards the red-roofed village of Echo Bank and the long +ridge of Liberton, crowned by the square tower on which a stone +dining-room table had been turned up, its four futile legs waving +in the air like a beetle overset on its back. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +JEMIMA, KEZIA, AND LITTLE KEREN-HAPPUCH. + + +Ralph found the professor out. He was, indeed, engaged in an +acrimonious discussion on the Wernerian theory, and at that moment +he was developing a remarkable scientific passion, which +threatened to sweep his adversaries from the face of the earth in +the debris of their heresies. + +Within doors, however, Ralph found a very warm welcome from his +three cousins--Jemima, Kezia, and Keren-happuch. Jemima was tall +and angular, with her hair accurately parted in the middle, and +drawn in a great sweep over her ears--a fashion intended by Nature +for Keren-happuch, who was round of face, and with a complexion in +which there appeared that mealy pink upon the cheeks which is +peculiar to the metropolis. Kezia was counted the beauty of the +family, and was much looked up to by her elder and younger +sisters. + +These three girls had always made much of Ralph, ever since he +used to play about the many garrets and rooms of their old mansion +beneath the castle, before they moved out to the new house at the +Sciennes. They had long been in love with him, each in her own +way; though they had always left the first place to Kezia, and +wove romances in their own heads with Ralph for the central +figure. Jemima, especially, had been very jealous of her sisters, +who were considerably younger, and had often spoken seriously to +them about flirting with Ralph. It was Jemima who came to the +door; for, in those days, all except the very grandest persons +thought no more of opening the outer than the inner doors of their +houses. + +"Ralph Peden, have you actually remembered that there is such a +house as the Sciennes?" said Jemima, holding up her face to +receive the cousinly kiss. + +Ralph bestowed it chastely. Whereupon followed Kezia and little +Keren-happuch, who received slightly varied duplicates. + +Then the three looked at one another. They knew that this Ralph +had eaten of the tree of knowledge. + +"That is not the way you kissed us before you went away," said +outspoken Kezia, who had experience in the matter wider than that +of the others, looking him straight in the eyes as became a +beauty. + +For once Ralph was thoroughly taken aback, and blushed richly and +long. + +Kezia laughed as one who enjoyed his discomfiture. + +"I knew it would come," she said. "Is she a milkmaid? She's not +the minister's daughter, for he is a bachelor, you said!" + +Jemima and Keren-happuch actually looked a little relieved, though +a good deal excited. They had been standing in the hall while this +conversation was running its course. + +"It's all nonsense, Kezia; I am astonished at you!" said Jemima. + +"Come into the sitting-parlour," said Kezia, taking Ralph's hand; +"we'll not one of us bear any malice if only you tell us all about +it." + +Jemima, after severe consideration, at last looked in a curious +sidelong way to Ralph. + +"I hope," she said, "that you have not done anything hasty." + +"Tuts!" said Kezia, "I hope he has. He was far too slow before he +went away. Make love in haste; marry at leisure--that's the right +way." + +"Can I have the essay that you read us last April, on the origin +of woman?" asked Keren-happuch unexpectedly. "You won't want it +any more, and I should like it." + +Even little Keren-happuch had her feelings. + +The three Misses Thriepneuks were a little jealous of one another +before, but already they had forgotten this slight feeling, which +indeed was no more than the instinct of proprietorship which young +women come to feel in one who has never been long out of their +house, and with whom they have been brought up. + +But in the face of this new interest they lost their jealousy of +one another; so that, in place of presenting a united front to the +enemy, these three kindly young women, excited at the mere hint of +a love-story, vied with one another which should be foremost in +interest and sympathy. The blush on Ralph's face spoke its own +message, and now, when he was going to speak, his three cousins +sat round with eager faces to listen. + +"I have something to tell, girls," said Ralph, "but I meant to +tell it first to my uncle. I have been turned out of the manse of +Dullarg, and my father will not allow me to live in his house till +after the meeting of the presbytery." + +This was more serious than a love-story, and the bright expression +died down into flickering uncertainty in the faces of Jemima, +Kezia, and Keren-happuch. + +"It's not anything wrong?" asked Jemima, anxiously. + +"No, no," said Ralph quickly, "nothing but what I have reason to +be proud enough of. It is only a question of the doctrines and +practice of the Marrow kirk--" + +"Oh!" said all three simultaneously, with an accent of mixed scorn +and relief. The whole matter was clear to them now. + +"And of the right of the synod of the Marrow kirk to control my +actions," continued Ralph. + +But the further interest was entirely gone from the question. + +"Tell us about HER," they said in unison. + +"How do you know it is a 'her'?" asked Ralph, clumsily trying to +put off time, like a man. + +Kezia laughed on her own account, Keren-happuch, because Kezia +laughed, but Jemima said solemnly: + +"I hope she is of a serious disposition." + +"Nonsense! _I_ hope she is pretty," said Kezia. + +"And _I_ hope she will love me," said little Keren-happuch. + +Ralph thought a little, and then, as it was growing dark, he sat +on the old sofa with his back to the fading day, and told his +love-story to these three sweet girls, who, though they had played +with him and been all womanhood to him ever since he came out of +petticoats, had not a grain of jealousy of the unseen sister who +had come suddenly past them and stepped into the primacy of +Ralph's life. + +When he was half-way through with his tale he suddenly stopped, +and said: + +"But I ought to have told all this first to your father, because +he may not care to have me in his house. There is only my word for +it, after all, and it is the fact that I have not the right to set +foot in my own father's house." + +"We will make our father see it in the right way," said Jemima +quietly. + +"Yes," interposed Kezia, "or I would not give sixpence for his +peace of mind these next six months." + +"It is all right if you tell us," said little Keren-happuch, who +was her father's playmate. Jemima ruled him, Kezia teased him--the +privilege of beauty--but it was generally little Keren-happuch who +fetched his slippers and sat with her cheek against the back of +his hand as he smoked and read in his great wicker chair by the +north window. + +There was the sound of quick nervous footsteps with an odd halt in +their fall on the gravel walk outside. The three girls ran to the +door in a tumultuous greeting, even Jemima losing her staidness +for the occasion. Ralph could hear only the confused babble of +tongues and the expressions, "Now you hear, father--" "Now you +understand--" "Listen to me, father--" as one after another took +up the tale. + +Ralph retold the story that night from the very beginning to the +professor, who listened silently, punctuating his thoughts with +the puffs of his pipe. + +When he had finished, there was an unwonted moisture in the eyes +of Professor Thriepneuk--perhaps the memory of a time when he too +had gone a-courting. + +He stretched the hand which was not occupied with his long pipe to +Ralph, who grasped it strongly. + +"You have acted altogether as I could have desired my own son to +act; I only wish that I had one like you. Let the Marrow Kirk +alone, and come and be my assistant till you see your way a little +into the writer's trade. Pens and ink are cheap, and you can take +my classes in the summer, and give me quietness to write my book +on 'The Abuses of Ut with the Subjunctive.'" + +"But I must find lodgings--" interrupted Ralph. + +"You must find nothing--just bide here. It is the house of your +nearest kin, and the fittest place for you. Your meat's neither +here nor there, and my lasses--" + +"They are the best and kindest in the world," said Ralph. + +The professor glanced at him with a sharp, quizzical look under +his eyebrows. He seemed as if he were about to say something, and +then thought better of it and did not. Perhaps he also had had his +illusions. + +As Ralph was going to his room that night Kezia met him at the +head of the stairs. She came like a flash from nowhere in +particular. + +"Good-night, Ralph," she said; "give your Winsome a kiss from me-- +the new kind--like this!" + +Then Kezia vanished, and Ralph was left wondering, with his candle +in his hand. + + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +A TRIANGULAR CONVERSATION. + + +It was the day of the fast before the Communion in the Dullarg. +The services of the day were over, and Allan Welsh, the minister +of the Marrow kirk, was resting in his study from his labours. +Manse Bell came up and knocked, inclining her ear as she did so to +catch the minister's low-toned reply. + +"Mistress Winifred Charteris frae the Craig Ronald to see ye, +sir." + +Allan Welsh commanded his emotion without difficulty--what of it +he felt--as indeed he had done for many years. + +He rose, however, with his hand on the table as though for +support, as Winsome came in. He received her in silence, bending +over her hand with a certain grave reverence. + +Winsome sat down. She was a little paler but even lovelier in the +minister's eyes than when he had seen her before. The faint violet +shadows under her lower lids were deeper, and gave a new depth to +her sapphire eyes whose irises were so large that the changeful +purple lights in them came and went like summer lightnings. + +It was Winsome who first spoke, looking at him with a strange pity +and a stirring of her soul that she could not account for. She had +come unwillingly on her errand, disliking him as the cause of her +lover's absence--one of the last things a woman learns to forgive. +But, as she looked on Allan Welsh, so bowed and broken, his eyes +fallen in, looking wistfully out of the pain of his life, her +heart went out to him, even as she thought that of a truth he was +Ralph Peden's enemy. + +"My grandfather," she said, and her voice was low, equable, and +serious, "sent me with a packet to you that he instructed me only +to give into your own hands." + +Winsome went over to the minister and gave him a sealed parcel. +Allan Welsh took it in his hand and seemed to weigh it. + +"I thank you," he said, commanding his voice with some difficulty. +"And I ask you to thank Walter Skirving for his remembrance of me. +It is many years since we were driven apart, but I have not +forgotten the kindness of the long ago!" + +He opened the parcel. It was sealed with Walter Skirving's great +seal ring which he wore on his watch-chain, lying on the table +before him as he kept his never-ending vigil. There was a +miniature and a parcel of letters within. + +It was the face of a fair girl, with the same dark-blue eyes of +the girl now before him, and the same golden hair--the face of an +earlier but not a fairer Winifred. Allan Welsh set his teeth, and +caught at the table to stay his dizzying head. The letters were +his own. It was Walter Skirving's stern message to him. From the +very tomb his own better self rose in judgment against him. He saw +what he might have been--the sorrow he had wrought, and the path +of ultimate atonement. + +He had tried to part two young lovers who had chosen the straight +and honest way. It was true that his duty to the kirk which had +been his life, and which he himself was under condemnation +according to his own standard, had seemed to him to conflict with +the path he had marked out for Ralph. + +But his own letters, breaking from their brittle confining band, +poured in a cataract of folded paper and close-knit writing which +looked like his own self of long ago, upon the table before him. +He was condemned out of his own mouth. + +Winsome sat with her face turned to the window, from which she +could see the heathery back of a hill which heaved its bulk +between the manse and the lowlands at the mouth of the Dee. There +was a dreamy look in her eyes, land her heart was far away in that +Edinburgh town from which she had that day received a message to +shake her soul with love and pity. + +The minister of the Dullarg looked up. + +"Do you love him?" he asked, abruptly and harshly. + +Winsome looked indignant and surprised. Her love, laid away in the +depths of her heart, was sacred, and not thus to be at the mercy +of every rude questioner. But as her eye rested on Allan Welsh, +the unmistakable accent of sincerity took hold on her--that accent +which may ask all things and not be blamed. + +"I do love him," she said--"with all my heart." + +That answer does not vary while God is in his heaven. + +The eye of Allan Welsh fell on the miniature. The woman he had +loved so long ago took part in the conversation. + +"That is what you said twenty years ago!" the unseen Winsome said +from the table. + +"And he loves you?" he asked, without looking up. + +"If I did not believe it, I could not live!" + +Allan Welsh glanced with a keen and sudden scrutiny at Winsome +Charteris; but the clearness of her eye and the gladness and faith +at the bottom of it satisfied him as to his thought. + +This Ralph Peden was a better man than he. A sad yearning face +looked up at him from the table, and a voice thrilled in his ears +across the years-- + +"So did not you!" + +"You know," said Allan Welsh, again untrue to himself, "that it is +not for Ralph Peden's good that he should love you." The formal +part of him was dictating the words. + +"I know you think so, and I am here to ask you why," said Winsome +fearlessly. + +"And if I persuade you, will you forbid him?" said Allan Welsh, +convinced of his own futility. + +Winsome's heart caught the accent of insincerity. It had gone far +beyond forbidding love or allowing it with Ralph Peden and +herself. + +"I shall try!" she said, with her own sweet serenity. But across +the years a voice was pleading their case. As the black and faded +ink of the letters flashed his own sentences across the minister's +eye, the soul God had put within him rose in revolt against his +own petty and useless preaching. + +"So did not you" persisted the voice in his ear. "Me you +counselled to risk all, and you took me out into the darkness, +lighting my way with love. Did ever I complain--father lost, +mother lost, home lost, God well nigh lost--all for you; yet did I +even regret when you saw me die?" + +"Think of the Marrow kirk," said the minister. "Her hard service +does not permit a probationer, before whom lies the task of +doctrine and reproof, to have father or mother, wife or +sweetheart." + +"And what did you," said the voice, "in that past day, care for +the Marrow kirk, when the light shone upon me, and you thought the +world, and the Marrow kirk with it, well lost for love's sake and +mine?" + +Allan Welsh bowed his head yet lower. + +Winsome Charteris went over to him. His tears were falling fast on +the dulled and yellowing paper. + +Winsome put her hands on his shoulder. + +"Is that my mother's picture?" she said, hardly knowing what she +said. + +Allan Welsh put his hand greedily about it, he could not let it +go. + +"Will you kiss me for your mother's sake?" he said. + +And then, for the first time since her babyhood, Winsome +Charteris, whose name was Welsh, kissed her father. + +There were tears on her mother's miniature, but through them the +face of the dead Winifred seemed to smile well pleased. + +"For my mother's sake!" said Winsome again, and kissed him of her +own accord on the brow. + +Thus Walter Skirving's message was delivered. + + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +THE MEETING OF THE SYNOD. + + +With the vestry of the Marrow kirk in Bell's Wynd the synod met, +and was constituted with prayer. Sederunt, the Reverend Gilbert +Peden, moderator, minister of the true kirk of God in Scotland, +commonly called the Marrow Kirk, in which place the synod for the +time being was assembled; the Reverend Allan Welsh, minister of +the Marrow kirk in Dullarg, clerk of the synod; John Bairdieson, +synod's officer. The minutes of the last meeting having been read +and approved of, the court proceeded to take up business. Inter +alia the trials of Master Ralph Peden, some time student of arts +and humanity in the College of Edinburgh, were a remit for this +day and date. Accordingly, the synod called upon the Reverend +Allan Welsh, its clerk, to make report upon the diligence, +humility, and obedience, as well as upon the walk and conversation +of the said Ralph Peden, student in divinity, now on trials for +license to preach, the gospel. + +Allan Welsh read all this gravely and calmly, as if the art of +expressing ecclesiastical meaning lay in clothing it in as many +overcoats as a city watchman wears in winter. + +The moderator sat still, with a grim earnestness in his face. He +was the very embodiment of the kirk of the Marrow, and though +there were but two ministers with no elders there that day to +share the responsibility, what did that matter? + +He, Gilbert Peden, successor of all the (faithful) Reformers, was +there to do inflexible and impartial justice. + +John Bairdieson came in and sat down. The moderator observed his +presence, and in his official capacity took notice of it. + +"This sederunt of the synod is private," he said. "Officer, remove +the strangers." + +In his official capacity the officer of the court promptly removed +John Bairdieson, who went most unwillingly. + +The matter of the examination of probationers comes up immediately +after the reading of the minutes in well-regulated church courts, +being most important and vital. + +"The clerk will now call for the report upon the life and conduct +of the student under trials," said the moderator. + +The clerk called upon the Reverend Allan Welsh to present his +report. Then he sat down gravely, but immediately rose again to +give his report. All the while the moderator sat impassive as a +statue. + +The minister of Dullarg began in a low and constrained voice. He +had observed, he said, with great pleasure the diligence and +ability of Master Ralph Peden, and considered the same in terms of +the remit to him from the synod. He was much pleased with the +clearness of the candidate upon the great questions of theology +and church government. He had examined him daily in his work, and +had confidence in bearing testimony to the able and spiritual tone +of all his exercises, both oral and written. + +Soon after he began, a surprised look stole over the face of the +moderator. As Allan Welsh went on from sentence to sentence, the +thin nostrils of the representative of the Reformers dilated. A +strange and intense scorn took possession of him. He sat back and +looked fixedly at the slight figure of the minister of Dullarg +bending under the weight of his message and the frailty of his +body. His time was coming. + +Allan Welsh sat down, and laid his written report on the table of +the synod. + +"And is that all that you have to say?" queried the moderator, +rising. + +"That is all," said Allan Welsh. + +"Then," said the moderator, "I charge it against you that you have +either said too much or too little: too much for me to listen to +as the father of this young man, if it be true that you extruded +him, being my son and a student of the Marrow kirk committed to +your care, at midnight from your house, for no stated cause; and +too little, far too little to satisfy me as moderator of this +synod, when a report not only upon diligence and scholarship, but +also upon a walk and conversation becoming the gospel, is +demanded." + +"I have duly given my report according to the terms of the remit," +said Allan Welsh, simply and quietly. + +"Then," said the moderator, "I solemnly call you to account as the +moderator of this synod of the only true and protesting Kirk of +Scotland, for the gravest dereliction of your duty. I summon you +to declare the cause why Ralph Peden, student in divinity, left +your house at midnight, and, returning to mine, was for that cause +denied bed and board at his father's house." + +"I deny your right, moderator, to ask that question as an officer +of this synod. If, at the close, you meet me as man to man, and, +as a father, ask me the reasons of my conduct, some particulars of +which I do not now seek to defend, I shall be prepared to satisfy +you." + +"We are not here convened," said the moderator, "to bandy +compliments, but to do justice--" + +"And to love mercy," interjected John Bairdieson through the +keyhole. + +"Officer," said the moderator, "remove that rude interrupter." + +"Aye, aye, sir," responded the synod officer promptly, and removed +the offender as much as six inches. + +"You have no more to say?" queried the moderator, bending his +brows in threatening fashion. + +"I have no more to say," returned the clerk as firmly. They were +both combative men; and the old spirit of that momentous conflict, +in which they had fought so gallantly together, moved them to as +great obstinacy now that they were divided. + +"Then," said the moderator, "there's nothing for't but another +split, and the Lord do so, and more also, to him whose sin brings +it about!" + +"Amen!" said Allan Welsh. + +"You will remember," said the moderator, addressing the minister +of Dullarg directly, "that you hold your office under my pleasure. +There is that against you in the past which would justify me, as +moderator of the kirk of the Marrow, in deposing you summarily +from the office of the ministry. This I have in writing under your +own hand and confession." + +"And I," said the clerk, rising with the gleaming light of war in +his eye, "have to set it against these things that you are guilty +of art and part in the concealment of that which, had you spoken +twenty years ago, would have removed from the kirk of the Marrow +an unfaithful minister, and given some one worthier than I to +report on the fitness of your son for the ministry. It was you, +Gilbert Peden, who made this remit to me, knowing what you know. I +shall accept the deposition which you threaten at your hands, but +remember that co-ordinately the power of this assembly lies with +me--you as moderator, having only a casting, not a deliberative +vote; and know you, Gilbert Peden, minister and moderator, that I, +Allan Welsh, will depose you also from the office of the ministry, +and my deposition will stand as good as yours." + +"The Lord preserve us! In five meenetes there'll be nae Marrow +Kirk" said John Bairdieson, and flung himself against the door; +but the moderator had taken the precaution of locking it and +placing the key on his desk. + +The two ministers rose simultaneously. Gilbert Peden stood at the +head and Allan Welsh at the foot of the little table. They were so +near that they could have shaken hands across it. But they had +other work to do. + +"Allan Welsh," said the moderator, stretching out his hand, +"minister of the gospel in the parish of Dullarg to the faithful +contending remnant, I call upon you to show cause why you should +not be deposed for the sins of contumacy and contempt, for sins of +person and life, confessed and communicate under your hand." + +"Gilbert Peden," returned the minister of the Dullarg and clerk to +the Marrow Synod, looking like a cock-boat athwart the hawse of a +leviathan of the deep, "I call upon you to show cause why you +should not be deposed for unfaithfulness in the discharge of your +duty, in so far as you have concealed known sin, and by complicity +and compliance have been sharer in the wrong." + +There was a moment's silence. Gilbert Peden knew well that what +his opponent said was good Marrow doctrine, for Allan Welsh had +confessed to him his willingness to accept deposition twenty years +ago. + +Then, as with one voice, the two men pronounced against each other +the solemn sentence of deposition and deprivation: + +"In the name of God, and by virtue of the law of the Marrow Kirk, +I solemnly depose you from the office of the ministry." + +John Bairdieson burst in the door, leaving the lock hanging awry +with the despairing force of his charge. + +"Be merciful, oh, be merciful!" he cried; "let not the Philistines +rejoice, nor the daughter of the uncircumcised triumph. Let be! +let be! Say that ye dinna mean it! Oh, say ye dinna mean it! Tak' +it back--tak' it a' back!" + +There was the silence of death between the two men, who stood +lowering at each other. + +John Bairdieson turned and ran down the stairs. He met Ralph and +Professor Thriepneuk coming up. + +"Gang awa'! gang awa'!" he cried. "There's nae leecense for ye +noo. There's nae mair ony Marrow Kirk! There's nae mair heaven and +earth! The Kirk o' the Marrow, precious and witnessing, is nae +mair!" + +And the tears burst from the old sailor as he ran down the street, +not knowing whither he went. + +Half-way down the street a seller of sea-coal, great and grimy, +barred his way. He challenged the runner to fight. The spirit of +the Lord came upon John Bairdieson, and, rejoicing that a foe +withstood him, he dealt a buffet so sore and mighty that the +seller of coal, whose voice could rise like the grunting of a sea +beast to the highest windows of the New Exchange Buildings, +dropped as an ox drops when it is felled. And John Bairdieson ran +on, crying out: "There's nae kirk o' God in puir Scotland ony +mair!" + + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +PURGING AND RESTORATION. + + +It was the Lord's day in Edinburgh town. The silence in the early +morning was something which could be felt--not a footstep, not a +rolling wheel. Window-blinds were mostly down--on the windows +provided with them. Even in Bell's Wynd there was not the noise of +the week. Only a tinker family squabbled over the remains of the +deep drinking of the night before. But then, what could Bell's +Wynd expect--to harbour such? + +It was yet early dawn when John Bairdieson, kirk officer to the +little company of the faithful to assemble there later in the day, +went up the steps and opened the great door with his key. He went +all round the church with his hat on. It was a Popish idea to take +off the head covering within stone walls, yet John Bairdieson was +that morning possessed with the fullest reverence for the house of +God and the highest sense of his responsibility as the keeper of +it. + +He was wont to sing: + + "Rather in + My God's house would I keep a door + Than dwell in tents of sin." + +That was the retort which he flung across at Taminas Laidlay, the +beadle of the Established Kirk opposite, with all that scorn in +the application which was due from one in John Bairdieson's +position to one in that of Tammas Laidlay. + +But this morning John had no spirit for the encounter. He hurried +in and sat down by himself in the minister's vestry. Here he sat +for a long season in deep and solemn thought. + +"I'll do it!" he said at last. + +It was near the time when the minister usually came to enter into +his vestry, there to prepare himself by meditation and prayer for +the services of the sanctuary. John Bairdieson posted himself on +the top step of the stairs which led from the street, to wait for +him. At last, after a good many passers-by, all single and all in +black, walking very fast, had hurried by, John's neck craning +after every one, the minister appeared, walking solemnly down the +street with his head in the air. His neckcloth was crumpled and +soiled--a fact which was not lost on John. + +The minister came up the steps and made as though he would pass +John by without speaking to him; but that guardian of the +sanctuary held out his arms as though he were wearing sheep. + +"Na, na, minister, ye come na into this Kirk this day as minister +till ye be lawfully restored. There are nae ministers o' the kirk +o' the Marrow the noo; we're a body without a heid. I thocht that +the Kirk was at an end, but the Lord has revealed to me that the +Marrow Kirk canna end while the world lasts. In the nicht season +he telled me what to do." + +The minister stood transfixed. If his faithful serving-man of so +many years had turned against him, surely the world was at an end. +But it was not so. + +John Bairdieson went on, standing with his hat in his hand, and +the hairs of his head erect with the excitement of unflinching +justice. + +"I see it clear. Ye are no minister o' this kirk. Mr. Welsh is no +minister o' the Dullarg. I, John Bairdieson, am the only officer +of the seenod left; therefore I stand atween the people and you +this day, till ye hae gane intil the seenod hall, that we ca' on +ordinary days the vestry, and there, takkin' till ye the elders +that remain, ye be solemnly ordainit ower again and set apairt for +the office o' the meenistry." + +"But I am your minister, and need nothing of the sort!" said +Gilbert Peden. "I command you to let me pass!" + +"Command me nae commands! John Bairdieson kens better nor that. Ye +are naither minister nor ruler; ye are but an elder, like mysel'-- +equal among your equals; an' ye maun sit amang us this day and +help to vote for a teachin' elder, first among his equals, to be +set solemnly apairt." + +The minister, logical to the verge of hardness, could not gainsay +the admirable and even-handed justice of John Bairdieson's +position. More than that, he knew that every man in the +congregation of the Marrow Kirk of Bell's Wynd would inevitably +take the same view. + +Without another word he went into the session-house, where in due +time he sat down and opened the Bible. + +He had not to wait long, when there joined him Gavin MacFadzean, +the cobbler, from the foot of Leith Walk, and Alexander Taylour, +carriage-builder, elders in the kirk of the Marrow; these, +forewarned by John Bairdieson, took their places in silence. To +them entered Allan Welsh. Then, last of all, John Bairdieson came +in and took his own place. The five elders of the Marrow kirk were +met for the first time on an equal platform. John Bairdieson +opened with prayer. Then he stated the case. The two ex-ministers +sat calm and silent, as though listening to a chapter in the Acts +of the Apostles. It was a strange scene of equality, only possible +and actual in Scotland. + +"But mind ye," said John Bairdieson, "this was dune hastily, and +not of set purpose--for ministers are but men--even ministers of +the Marrow kirk. Therefore shall we, as elders of the kirk, in +full standing, set apairt two of our number as teaching elders, +for the fulfilling of ordinances and the edification of them that +believe. Have you anything to say? If not, then let us proceed to +set apairt and ordain Gilbert Peden and Allan Welsh." + +But before any progress could be made, Allan Welsh rose. John +Bairdieson had been afraid of this. + +"The less that's said, the better," he said hastily, "an' it's +gottin' near kirk-time. We maun get it a' by or then." + +"This only I have to say," said Allan Welsh, "I recognize the +justice of my deposition. I have been a sinful and erring man, and +I am not worthy to teach in the pulpit any more. Also, my life is +done. I shall soon lay it down and depart to the Father whose word +I, hopeless and castaway, have yet tried faithfully to preach." + +Then uprose Gilbert Peden. His voice was husky with emotion. +"Hasty and ill-advised, and of such a character as to bring +dishonour on the only true Kirk in Scotland, has such an action +been. I confess myself a hasty man, a man of wrath, and that wrath +unto sin. I have sinned the sin of anger and presumption against a +brother. Long ere now I would have taken it back, but it is the +law of God that deeds once done cannot be undone; though we seek +repentance carefully with tears, we cannot put the past away." + +Thus, with the consecration and the humility of confession Gilbert +Peden purged himself from the sin of hasty anger. + +"Like Uzzah at the threshing-floor of Nachon," he went on, "I have +sinned the sin of the Israelite who set his hand to the ox-cart to +stay the ark of God. It is of the Lord's mercy that I am not +consumed, like the men of Beth-shemesh." + +So Gilbert Peden was restored, but Allan Welsh would not accept +any restoration. + +"I am not a man accepted of God," he said. And even Gilbert Peden +said no word. + +"Noo," said John Bairdieson, "afore this meetin' scales [is +dismissed], there is juist yae word that I hae to say. There's +nane o' us haes wives, but an' except Alexander Taylour, carriage- +maker. Noo, the proceedings this mornin' are never to be jince +named in the congregation. If, then, there be ony soond of this in +the time to come, mind you Alexander Taylour, that it's you +that'll hae to bear the weight o't!" + +This was felt to be fair, even by Alexander Taylour, carriage- +maker. + +The meeting now broke up, and John Bairdieson went to reprove +Margate Truepenny for knocking with her crutch on the door of the +house of God on the Sabbath morning. + +"D'ye think," he said, "that the fowk knockit wi' their staves on +the door o' the temple in Jerusalem?" + +"Aiblins," retorted Margate, "they had feller [quicker] +doorkeepers in thae days nor you, John Bairdieson." + +The morning service was past. Gilbert Peden had preached from the +text, 'Greater is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a +city." + +"Oor minister is yin that looks deep intil the workings o' his ain +heart," said Margate, as she hirpled homeward. + +But when the church was empty and all gone home, in the little +vestry two men sat together, and the door was shut. Between them +they held a miniature, the picture of a girl with a flush of rose +on her cheek and a laughing light in her eyes. There was silence, +but for a quick catch in the stronger man's breathing, which +sounded like a sob. Gilbert Peden, who had only lost and never +won, and Allan Welsh, who had both won and lost, were forever at +one. There was silence between them, as they looked with eyes of +deathless love at the picture which spoke to them of long ago. + +Walter Skirving's message, which Winsome had brought to the manse +of Dullarg, had united the hearts estranged for twenty years. +Winsome had builded better than she knew. + + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +THREADS DRAWN TOGETHER. + + +Winsome took her grandmother out one afternoon into the rich +mellow August light, when the lower corn-fields were glimmering +with misty green shot underneath with faintest blonde, and the +sandy knowes were fast yellowing. The blithe old lady was getting +back some of her strength, and it seemed possible that once again +she might be able to go round the house without even the +assistance of an arm. + +"And what is this I hear," said Mistress Skirving, "that the daft +young laird frae the Castle has rin' aff wi' that cottar's lassie, +Jess Kissock, an' marriet her at Gretna Green. It's juist no +possible." + +"But, grandma, it is quite true, for Jock Gordon brought the news. +He saw them postin' back from Gretna wi' four horses!" + +"An' what says his mither, the Lady Elizabeth?" + +"They say that she's delighted," said Winsome. + +"That's a lee, at ony rate!" said the mistress of Craig Ronald, +without a moment's hesitation. She knew the Lady Elizabeth, + +"They say," said Winsome, "that Jess can make them do all that she +wants at the Castle." + +"Gin she gars them pit doon new carpets, she'll do wonders," said +her grandmother, acidly. She came of a good family, and did not +like mesalliances, though she had been said to have made one +herself. + +But there was no misdoubting the fact that Jess had done her sick +nursing well, and had possessed herself in honourable and lawful +wedlock of the Honourable Agnew Greatorix--and that too, +apparently with the consent of the Lady Elizabeth. + +"What took them to Gretna, then?" said Winsome's grandmother. + +"Well, grandmammy, you see, the Castle folk are Catholic, and +would not have a minister; an' Jess, though a queer Christian, as +well as maybe to show her power and be romantic, would have no +priest or minister either, but must go to Gretna. So they're back +again, and Jock Gordon says that she'll comb his hair. He has to +be in by seven o'clock now," said Winsome, smiling. + +"Wha's ben wi' yer grandfaither?" after a pause, Mistress Skirving +asked irrelevantly. + +"Only Mr. Welsh from the manse," said Winsome. "I suppose he came +to see grandfather about the packet I took to the manse a month +ago. Grandmother, why does Mr. Welsh come so seldom to Craig +Ronald?" she asked. + +But her grandmother was shaking in a strange way. + +"I have not heard any noise," she said. "You had better go in and +see." + +Winsome stole to the door and looked within. She saw the minister +with his head on the swathed knees of her grandfather. The old man +had laid his hand upon the grey hair of the kneeling minister. +Awed and solemnised, Winsome drew back. + +She told her grandmother what she had seen, and the old lady said +nothing for the space of a quarter of an hour. At the end of that +time she said: + +"Help me ben." + +And Winsome, taking her arm, guided her into the hushed room where +her husband sat, still holding his hand on the head of Allan +Welsh. + +Something in the pose of the kneeling man struck her--a certain +helpless inclination forward. + +Winsome ran, and, taking Allan Welsh by the shoulders, lifted him +up in her strong young arms. + +He was dead. He had passed in the act of forgiveness. + +Walter Skirving, who had sat rapt and silent through it all as +though hardly of this world, now said clearly and sharply: + +"'For if ye forgive men their trespasses, so also shall your +heavenly Father forgive you.'" + +Walter Skirving did not long survive the man, in hatred of whom he +had lived, and in unity with whom he had died. It seemed as though +he had only been held to the earth by the necessity that the sun +of his life should not go down upon his wrath. This done, like a +boat whose moorings are loosed, very gladly he went out that same +night upon the ebb tide. The two funerals were held upon the same +day. Minister and elder were buried side by side one glorious +August day, which was a marvel to many. So the Dullarg kirk was +vacant, and there was only Manse Bell to take care of the +property. Jonas Shillinglaw came from Cairn Edward and +communicated the contents of both Walter Skirving's will and of +that of Allan Welsh to those whom it concerned. Jonas had made +several journeys of late both to the manse as well as to the +steading of Craig Ronald. Walter Skirving left Craig Ronald and +all of which he died possessed to Winsome Charteris, subject to +the approval of her grandmother as to whom she might marry. There +was a recent codicil. "I desire to record my great satisfaction +that Winifred Charteris or Welsh is likely to marry the son of my +old friend Gilbert Peden, minister of the Marrow kirk in +Edinburgh; and hearing that the young man contemplates the career +of letters, I desire that, if it be possible, in the event of +their marriage, they come to abide at Craig Ronald, at least till +a better way be opened for them. I commend my wife, ever loving +and true, to them both; and in the good hope of a glorious +resurrection I commit myself to Him who made me." + +Allan Welsh left all his goods and his property to Ralph Peden, +"being as mine own son, because he taught me to know true love, +and fearlessness and faith unfeigned. Also because one dear to him +brought me my hope of forgiveness." + +There was indeed need of Ralph at Craig Ronald. Mistress Skirving +cried out incessantly for him. Meg begged Winsome to let her look +every day at the little miniature Ralph had sent her from +Edinburgh. The Cuif held forth upon the great event every night +when he came over to hold the tails of Meg's cows. Jock Forrest +still went out, saying nothing, whenever the Cuif came in, which +the Cuif took to be a good sign. Only Ebie Fairrish, struck to the +heart by the inconstancy of Jess, removed at the November term +back again to the "laigh end" of the parish, and there plunged +madly into flirtations with several of his old sweethearts. He is +reported to have found in numbers the anodyne for the +unfaithfulness of one. As for what Winsome thought and longed for, +it is better that we should not begin to tell, not having another +volume to spare. + +Only she went to the hill-top by the side of Loch Ken and looked +northward every eventide; and her heart yearned within her. + + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +WINSOME'S LAST TRYST. + + +It was the morn before a wedding, and there had been a constant +stir all night all about the farmsteading, for a brand-new world +was in the making. Such a marrying had not been for years. The +farmers' sons for miles around were coming on their heavy plough- +horses, with here and there one of better breed. Long ago in the +earliest morning some one had rung the bell of the little kirk of +the Dullarg. It came upon the still air a fairy tinkle, and many a +cottar and many a shepherd turned over with a comfortable feeling: +"This is the Sabbath morn; I need not rise so soon to-day." But +all their wives remembered, and turned them out with wifely elbow. + +It was Winsome Charteris's wedding day. The flower of all the +countryside was to wed the young Edinburgh lad who had turned out +so great a poet. It was the opinion of the district that her +"intended" had unsettled the thrones of all the great writers of +the past by his volume of poems, which no one in the parish had +read; but the fame of whose success had been wafted down upon the +eastern breezes which bore the snell bite of the metropolis upon +their front. + +"Tra-la-la-la!" chanted the cocks of Craig Ronald. + +"Tra-la-la-la-la!" airily sang the solitary bird which lived up +among the pine woods, where, in the cot of Mistress Kissock, Ralph +Peden occupied the little bedroom which Meg had got ready for him +with such care and honour. + +"Tra-la-la-laa!" was echoed in the airiest diminuendo from the +far-away leader of the harem at the Nether Orae. His challenge +crossed the wide gulf of air above Loch Grannoch, from which in +the earliest morning the mists were rising. + +Ralph Peden heard all three birds. He had a delightfully +comfortable bedroom, and the flowers on the little white-covered +table have come from the front square of Mistress Kissock's +garden. There was a passion-flower on his table, which somehow +reminded him of a girl who had put poppies in hair of the raven's +wing hue. It had not grown in the garden of the cot. + +Yet Ralph was out in the earliest dawn, listening to the sighing +of the trees and taking in the odour of the perfume from the pines +on the slope. + +Ralph did not write any poem this morning, though the Muses were +abroad in the stillness of the dawn. His eyes were on a little +window once more overclambered by the June roses. His poem was +down there, and it was coming to him. + +How eagerly he looked, his eyes like telescopes! Then his heart +thrilled. In the cool flood of slanting morning sunshine which had +just overflowed the eastern gable of the house, some one swiftly +crossed the court-yard of the farm. In a moment the sun, winking +on a pair of tin pails, told him that Meg Kissock was going to the +well. From the barn end some one stepped out by her side and +walked to the well. Then, as they returned, it was not the woman +who was carrying the winking pails. At the barn end they drew +together in the shadow for a long minute, and then again Ralph saw +Meg's back as she walked sedately to the kitchen door, the cans +flashing rhythmically as she swung them. So high was he above them +that he could even notice the mellow dimple of diffused light from +the water in the bright pail centring and scattering the morning +sunlight as it swayed. + +Presently the one half of the blue kitchen door became black. It +had been opened. Ralph's heart gave a great bound. Then the black +became white and glorified, for framed within it appeared a +slender shape like a shaft of light. Ralph's eyes did not leave +the figure as it stepped out and came down by the garden edge. + +Along the top of the closely-cut hawthorn a dot of light moved. It +was but a speck, like the paler centre of the heather bells. Ralph +ran swiftly down the great dyke in a manner more natural to a +young man than dignified in a poet. In a minute he came to the +edge of the glen in which Andra Kissock had guddled the trouts. +That flash of layender must pass this way. It passed and stayed. + +So in the cool translucence of morning light the lovers met in +this quiet glade, the great heather moors above them once more +royally purple, the burnie beneath singing a gentle song, the +birds vying with each other in complicated trills of pretended +artlessness. + +It was purely by chance that Winsome Charteris passed this way. +And a kind Providence, supplemented on Ralph's side by some +activity and observation, brought him also to the glen of the +elders that June morning. Yet there are those who say that there +is nothing in coincidence. + +When Winsome, moving thoughtfully onward, gently waving a slip of +willow in her hand, came in sight of Ralph, she stood and waited. +Ralph went towards her, and so on their marriage morn these two +lovers met. + +It was like that morning on which by the lochside they parted, yet +it was not like it. + +With that prescience which is a sixth sense to women, Winsome had +slipped on the old sprigged gown which had done duty at the +blanket-washing so long ago, and her hair, unbound in the sun, +shone golden as it flowed from beneath the lilac sunbonnet. As for +Ralph, it does not matter how he was dressed. In love, dress does +not matter a brass button after the first corner is turned--at +least not to the woman. + +"Sweet," said Ralph, "you are awake?" + +Winsome looked up with eyes so glorious and triumphant that a +blind man could scarce have doubted the fact. + +"And you love me?" he continued, reading her eyes. With her old +ripple of laughter she lightened the strain of the occasion. + +"You are a silly boy," she said; "but you'll learn. I have come +out to gather flowers," she added, ingenuously. "I shall expect +you to help. No--no--and nothing else." + +Had Ralph been in a fit condition to observe Nature this morning, +it might have occurred to him that when girls come out to gather +flowers for somewhat extensive decoration, they bring with them at +least a basket and generally also their fourth best pair of +scissors. Winsome had neither. But he was not in a mood for +careful inductions. + +The morning lights sprayed upon them as they went hither and +thither gathering flowers--dew-drenched hyacinths, elastic wire- +strung bluebells the colour of the sky when the dry east wind +blows, the first great red bushes of the ling. Now it is a known +fact that, in order properly to gather flowers, the collectors +must divide and so quarter the ground. + +"But this was not a scientific expedition," said Ralph, when the +folly of their mode of proceeding was pointed out to him. + +It was manifestly impossible that they could gather flowers +walking with the palm of Ralph's left hand laid on the inside of +Winsome's left arm. The thing cannot be done. At least so Ralph +admitted afterwards. + +"No," said Ralph, "but you made me promise to keep my shoulders +back, and I am trying to to do it now." + +And his manner of assisting Winsome to gather her flowers for her +wedding bouquet was, when you come to think of it, admirably +adapted for keeping the shoulders back. + +"Meg waked me this morning," said Winsome suddenly. + +"She did, did she?" remarked Ralph ineffectively, with a quick +envy of Meg. Then it occurred to him that he had no need to envy +Meg. And Winsome blushed for no reason at all. + +Then she became suddenly practical, as the protective instinct +teaches women to be on these occasions. + +"You have not seen your study," she said. + +"No," said Ralph, "but I have heard enough about it. It has +occupied sixteen pages in the last three letters." + +Ralph considered the study a good thing, but he had his views upon +the composition of love-letters. + +"You are an ungrateful boy," said Winsome sternly, "and I shall +see that you get no more letters--not any more!" + +"I shall never want any, little woman," cried Ralph joyously, "for +I shall have you!" + +It was a blessing that at this moment they were passing under the +dense shade of the great oaks at the foot of the orchard. Winsome +had thought for five minutes that it would happen about there. It +happened. + +A quarter of an hour later they came out into the cool ocean of +leaf shadow which lay blue upon the grass and daisies. Winsome now +carried the sunbonnet over her arm, and in the morning sunshine +her uncovered head was so bright that Ralph could not gaze at it +long. Besides, he wanted to look at the eyes that looked at him, +and one cannot do everything at once. + +"This is your study," she said, standing back to let him look in. +It was a long, low room with an outside stair above the +farthermost barn, and Winsome had fitted it up wondrously for +Ralph. It opened off the orchard, and the late blossoms scattered +into it when the winds blew from the south. + +They stood together on the topmost step. There was a desk and one +chair, and a low window-seat in each of the deep windows. + +"You will never be disturbed here," said Winsome. + +"But I want to be disturbed," said Ralph, who was young and did +not know any better. + +"Now go in," said Winsome, giving him a little push in the way +that, without any offence, a proximate wife may. "Go in and study +a little this morning, and see how you like it." + +Ralph considered this as fair provocation, and turned, with bonds +and imprisonment in his mind. But Winsome had vanished. + +But from beneath came a clear voice out of the unseen: + +"If you don't like it, you can come round and tell me. It will not +be too late till the afternoon. Any time before three!" + +A mere man is at a terrible disadvantage in word play of this +kind. On this occasion Ralph could think of nothing better than-- + +"Winsome Charteris, I shall pay you back for this!" + +Then he heard what might either have been a bell ringing for the +fairies' breakfast, or a ripple of the merriest earthly laughter +very far away. + +Then he sat down to study. + +It took him quite an hour to arrive at a conclusion; but when +reached it was a momentous one. It was, that it is a mistake to be +married in summer, for three o'clock in the afternoon is such a +long time in coming. + + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +THE LAST OF THE LILAC SUNBONNET. + + +Craig Ronald lies bright in a dreaming day in mid-September. The +reapers are once more in the fields. Far away there is a crying of +voices. The corn-fields by the bridge are white with a bloomy and +mellow whiteness. Some part of the oats is already down. Close +into the standing crop there is a series of rhythmic flashes, the +scythes swinging like a long wave that curls over here and there. +Behind the line of flashing steel the harvesters swarm like ants +running hither and thither crosswise, apparently in aimless +fashion. + +Up through the orchard comes a girl, tall and graceful, but with a +touch of something nobler and stiller that does not come to +girlhood. It is the seal of the diviner Eden grace which only +comes with the after Eden pain. + +Winsome Peden carries more than ever of the old grace and beauty; +and the eyes of her husband, who has been finishing the proofs of +his next volume and at intervals looking over the busy fields to +the levels of Loch Grannoch, tell her so as she comes. + +But suddenly from opposite sides of the orchard this girl with the +gracious something in her eyes is borne down by simultaneous +assault. Shrieking with delight, a boy and a girl, dressed in +complete defensive armour of daisies, and wielding desperate arms +of lath manufactured by Andra Kissock, their slave, rush fiercely +upon her. They pull down their quarry after a brisk chase, who +sinks helplessly upon the grass under a merciless fire of +caresses. + +It is a critical moment. A brutal and licentious soldiery are not +responsible at such moments. They may carry sack and rapine to +unheard of extremities. + +"You young barbarians, be careful of your only mother--unless you +have a stock of them!" calls a voice from the top of the stairs +which lead to the study. + +"Father's come out--hurrah! Come on, Allan!" shouts Field-Marshal +Winifred the younger who is leader and commander, to her army +whose tottery and chubby youth does not suggest the desperation of +a forlorn hope. So the study is carried at the point of the lath, +and the banner of the victors--a cross of a sort unknown to +heraldry, marked on a white ground with a blue pencil--is planted +on the sacred desk itself. + +Winsome the matron comes more slowly up the stairs. + +"Can common, uninspired people come in?" she says, pausing at the +top. + +She looks about with a motherly eye, and pulls down the blind of +the window into which the sun has been streaming all the morning. +It is one of the advantages of such a wife that her husband, +especially the rare literary variety, may be treated as no more +than the eldest but most helpless of the babes. It is also true +that Ralph had pulled up the blind in order that he might the +better be able to see his wife moving among the reapers. For +Winsome was more than ever a woman of affairs. + +She stood in the doorway, looking in spite of the autumn sun and +the walk up from the corn-field, deliriously cool. She fanned +herself with a broad rhubarb-leaf--an impromptu fan plucked by the +way. She sat down on the ledge of the upper step of Ralph's study, +as she often did when she worked or rested. Ralph was again +within, reclining on a window-seat, while the pack of reckless +banditti swarmed over him. + +"Have the rhymes been behaving themselves this morning?" Winsome +said, looking across at Ralph as only a wife of some years' +standing can look at her husband--with love deepened into +understanding, and tempered with a spice of amusement and a wide +and generous tolerance--the look of a loving woman to whom her +husband and her husband's ways are better than a stage play. Such +a look is a certificate of happy home and an ideal life, far more +than all heroics. The love of the after-years depends chiefly on +the capacity of a wife to be amused by her husband's +peculiarities--and not to let him see it. + +"There are three blanks," said Ralph, a little wistfully. "I have +written a good deal, but I dare not read it over, lest it should +be nothing worth." + +This was a well-marked stage in Ralph's composition, and it was +well that his wife had come. + +"I fear you have been dreaming, instead of working," she said, +looking at him with a kind of pitying admiration. Ralph, too, had +grown handsomer, so his wife thought, since she had him to look +after. How, indeed, could it be otherwise? + +She rose and went towards him. + +"Sun down, now, children, and play on the grass," she said. "Sun, +chicks--off with you--shoo!" and she flirted her apron after them +as she did when she scattered the chickens from the dairy door. +The pinafored people fled shrieking across the grass, tumbling +over each other in riotous heaps. + +Then Winsome went over and kissed her husband. He was looking so +handsome that he deserved it. And she did not do it too often. She +was glad that she had made him wear a beard. She put one of her +hands behind his head and the other beneath his chin, tilting his +profile with the air of a connoisseur. This can only be done in +one position. + +"Well, does it suit your ladyship?" said Ralph. + +She gave him a little box on the ear. + +"I knew," he said, "that you wanted to come and sit on my knee!" + +"I never did," replied Winsome with animation, making a statement +almost certainly inaccurate upon the face of it. + +"That's why you sent away the children," he went on, pinching her +ear. + +"Of all things in this world," said Winsome indignantly, "commend +me to a man for conceit!" + +"And to winsome wives for wily ways!" said her husband instantly. +To do him justice, he did not often do this sort of thing. + +"Keep the alliteration for the poems," retorted Winsome. "Truth +will do for me." + +After a little while she said, without apparent connection: + +"It is very hot." + +"What are they doing in the hay-field?" asked Ralph. + +"Jock Forrest was leading and they were cutting down the croft +very steadily. I think it looks like sixty bushels to the acre," +she continued practically; "so you shall have a carpet for the +study this year, if all goes well." + +"That will be famous!" cried Ralph, like a schoolboy, waving his +hand. It paused among Winsome's hair. + +"I wish you would not tumble it all down," she said; "I am too old +for that kind of thing now!" + +The number of times good women perjure themselves is almost +unbelievable. + +But the recording angel has, it is said, a deaf side, otherwise he +would need an ink-eraser. Ralph knew very well what she really +meant, and continued to throw the fine-spun glossy waves over her +head, as a miser may toss his gold for the pleasure of the cool, +crisp touch. + +"Then," continued Winsome, without moving (for, though so unhappy +and uncomfortable, she sat still--some women are born with a +genius for martyrdom), "then I had a long talk with Meg." + +"And the babe?" queried Ralph, letting her hair run through his +fingers. + +"And the babe," said Winsome; "she had laid it to sleep under a +stock, and when we went to see, it looked so sweet under the +narrow arch of the corn! Then it looked up with big wondering +eyes. I believe he thought the inside of the stook was as high as +a temple." + +"It is not I that am the poet!" said Ralph, transferring his +attention for a moment from her hair. + +"Meg says Jock Forrest is perfectly good to her, and that she +would not change her man for all Greatorix Castle." + +"Does Jock make a good grieve?" asked Ralph. + +"The very best; he is a great comfort to me," replied his wife. "I +get far more time to work at the children's things--and also to +look after my Ursa Major!" + +"What of Jess?" asked Ralph; "did Meg say?" + +"Jess has taken the Lady Elizabeth to call on My Lord at Bowhill! +What do you think of that? And she leads Agnew Greatorix about +like a lamb, or rather like a sheep. He gets just one glass of +sherry at dinner," said Winsome, who loved a spice of gossip--as +who does not? + +"There is a letter from my father this morning," said Ralph, half +turning to pick it off his desk; "he is well, but he is in +distress, he says, because he got his pocket picked of his +handkerchief while standing gazing in at a shop window wherein +books were displayed for sale, but John Bairdieson has sewed +another in at the time of writing. They had a repeating tune the +other day, and the two new licentiates are godly lads, and turning +out a credit to the kirk of the Marrow." + +"And that is more than ever you would have done, Ralph," said his +wife candidly. + +"Kezia is to be married in October, and there is a young man +coming to see little Keren-happuch, but Jemima thinks that the +minds of both of her younger sisters are too much set on the +frivolous things of this earth. The professor has received a new +kind of snuff from Holland which Kezia says is indistinguishable +in its effects from pepper--one of his old students brought it to +him--and that's all the news," said Ralph, closing up the letter +and laying it on the table. + +"Has Saunders Moudiewort cast his easy affections on any one this +year yet?" Ralph asked, returning to the consideration of +Winsome's hair. + +Saunders was harvesting at present at Craig Ronald. The mistress +of the farm laughed. + +"I think not," she said; "Saunders says that his mother is the +most' siccar' housekeeper that he kens of, and that after a while +ye get to mind her tongue nae mair nor the mill fanners." + +"That's just the way with me when you scold me," said Ralph. + +"Very well, then, I must go to the summer seat and put you out of +danger," replied Winsome. "Since you are so imposed upon, I shall +see if the grannymother has done with her second volume. She never +gets dangerous, except when she is kept waiting for the third." + +But before they had time to move, the rollicking storm-cloud of +younglings again came tumultuously up the stairs--Winifred far in +front, Allan toddling doggedly in the rear. + +"See what granny has put on my head!" cried Mistress Winifred the +youngest, whose normal manner of entering a room suggested a +revolution. + +"Oo" said Allan, pointing with his chubby finger, "yook, yook! +mother's sitting on favver's knee-rock-a-by, favver, rock-a-by!" + +But Ralph had no eyes for anything but the old sunbonnet in which, +the piquant flower face of Mistress Five-year-old Winifred was +all but lost. He stooped and kissed it, and the face under it. It +was frayed and faded, and it had lost both strings. + +Then he looked up and kissed the wife who was still his +sweetheart, for the love the lilac sunbonnet had brought to them +so many years ago was still fresh with the dew of their youth. + +THE END. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE LILAC SUNBONNET *** + +This file should be named 4918.txt or 4918.zip + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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