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diff --git a/old/6364.txt b/old/6364.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2a4fcc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/6364.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19832 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Warlock o' Glenwarlock, by George MacDonald + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Warlock o' Glenwarlock + +Author: George MacDonald + +Posting Date: May 13, 2011 [EBook #6364] +Release Date: August, 2004 +[This file was first posted on December 2, 2002] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WARLOCK O' GLENWARLOCK *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Prince, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Aldarondo, Charles Franks + + + + + + + + + + +WARLOCK O' GLENWARLOCK. + +A HOMELY ROMANCE. + +BY + +GEORGE MACDONALD. + +AUTHOR OF "ANNALS OF A QUIET NEIGHBORHOOD", "A SEA-BOARD PARISH", +ETC. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER. + + 1. Castle Warlock + 2. The Kitchen + 3. The Drawing-room + 4. An Afternoon Sleep + 5. The School + 6. Grannie's Cottage + 7. Dreams + 8. Home + 9. The Student + 10. Peter Simon + 11. The new Schooling + 12. Grannie's Ghost Story + 13. The Storm-Guest + 14. The Castle Inn + 15. That Night + 16. Through the Day + 17. That same Night + 18. A Winter Idyl + 19. An "Interlunar Cave" + 20. Catch yer Naig + 21. The Watchmaker + 22. That Luminous Night + 23. At College + 24. A Tutorship + 25. The Gardener + 26. Lost and Found + 27. A Transformation + 28. The Story of the Knight who spoke the Truth + 29. New Experience + 30. Charles Jermyn, M. D. + 31. Cosmo and the Doctor + 32. The Naiad + 33. The Garden-House + 34. Catch your Horse + 35. Pull his Tail + 36. The thick Darkness + 37. The Dawn + 38. The Shadow of Death + 39. The Labourer + 40. The Schoolmaster + 41 Grannie and the Stick + 42. Obstruction + 43. Grizzie's Rights + 44. Another Harvest + 45. The final Conflict + 46. A Rest + 47. Help + 48. A common Miracle + 49. Defiance + 50. Discovery and Confession + 51. It is Naught saith the Buyer + 52. An old Story + 53. A small Discovery + 54. A greater Discovery + 55. A great Discovery + 56. Mr. Burns + 57. Too Sure comes too late + 58. A little Life well rounded + 59. A Breaking Up + 60. Repose + 61. The third Harvest + 62. A duet, Trio, and Quartette + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +CASTLE WARLOCK. + +A rough, wild glen it was, to which, far back in times unknown to +its annals, the family had given its name, taking in return no +small portion of its history, and a good deal of the character of +its individuals. It lay in the debatable land between highlands and +lowlands; most of its inhabitants spoke both Scotch and Gaelic; and +there was often to be found in them a notable mingling of the chief +characteristics of the widely differing Celt and Teuton. The +country produced more barley than wheat, more oats than barley, +more heather than oats, more boulders than trees, and more snow +than anything. It was a solitary, thinly peopled region, mostly of +bare hills, and partially cultivated glens, each with its small +stream, on the banks of which grew here and there a silver birch, a +mountain ash, or an alder tree, but with nothing capable of giving +much shade or shelter, save cliffy banks and big stones. From many +a spot you might look in all directions and not see a sign of human +or any other habitation. Even then however, you might, to be sure, +most likely smell the perfume--to some nostrils it is nothing less +than perfume--of a peat fire, although you might be long in finding +out whence it came; for the houses, if indeed the dwellings could +be called houses, were often so hard to be distinguished from the +ground on which they were built, that except the smoke of fresh +peats were coming pretty freely from the wide-mouthed chimney, it +required an experienced eye to discover the human nest. The valleys +that opened northward produced little; there the snow might some +years be seen lying on patches of oats yet green, destined now only +for fodder; but where the valley ran east and west, and any +tolerable ground looked to the south, there things put on a +different aspect. There the graceful oats would wave and rustle in +the ripening wind, and in the small gardens would lurk a few +cherished strawberries, while potatoes and peas would be tolerably +plentiful in their season. + +Upon a natural terrace in such a slope to the south, stood Castle +Warlock. But it turned no smiling face to the region whence came +the warmth and the growth. A more grim, repellant, unlovely +building would be hard to find; and yet, from its extreme +simplicity, its utter indifference to its own looks, its repose, +its weight, and its gray historical consciousness, no one who loved +houses would have thought of calling it ugly. It was like the +hard-featured face of a Scotch matron, suggesting no end of story, +of life, of character: she holds a defensive if not defiant face to +the world, but within she is warm, tending carefully the fires of +life. Summer and winter the chimneys of that desolate-looking house +smoked; for though the country was inclement, and the people that +lived in it were poor, the great, sullen, almost unhappy-looking +hills held clasped to their bare cold bosoms, exposed to all the +bitterness of freezing winds and summer hail, the warmth of +household centuries: their peat-bogs were the store-closets and +wine-cellars of the sun, for the hoarded elixir of physical life. +And although the walls of the castle, as it was called, were so +thick that in winter they kept the warmth generated within them +from wandering out and being lost on the awful wastes of homeless +hillside and moor, they also prevented the brief summer heat of the +wayfaring sun from entering with freedom, and hence the fires were +needful in the summer days as well--at least at the time my story +commences, for then, as generally, there were elderly and aged +people in the house, who had to help their souls to keep their +bodies warm. + +The house was very old. It had been built for more kinds of shelter +than need to be thought of in our days. For the enemies of our +ancestors were not only the cold, and the fierce wind, and the +rain, and the snow; they were men also--enemies harder to keep out +than the raging storm or the creeping frost. Hence the more +hospitable a house could be, the less must it look what it was: it +must wear its face haughty, and turn its smiles inward. The house +of Glenwarlock, as it was also sometimes called, consisted of three +massive, narrow, tall blocks of building, which showed little +connection with each other beyond juxtaposition, two of them +standing end to end, with but a few feet of space between, and the +third at right angles to the two. In the two which stood end to +end, and were originally the principal parts, hardly any windows +were to be seen on the side that looked out into the valley; while +in the third, which, though looking much of the same age, was of +later build, were more windows, but none in the lowest story. +Narrow as were these buildings, and four stories high, they had a +solid, ponderous look, suggesting a thickness of the walls such as +to leave little of a hollow within for the indwellers--like great +marine shells for a small mollusk. On the other side was a kind of +a court, completed by the stables and cowhouses, and towards this +court were most of the windows--many of them for size more like +those in the cottages around, than suggestive of a house built by +the lords of the soil. The court was now merely that of a farmyard. + +There must have been at one time outer defences to the castle, but +they were no longer to be distinguished by the inexperienced eye; +and indeed the windowless walls of the house itself seemed strong +enough to repel any attack without artillery--except indeed the +assailants had got into the court. There were however some signs of +the windows there having been enlarged if not increased at a later +period. + +In the block that stood angle-wise to the rest, was the kitchen, +the door of which opened immediately on the court; and behind the +kitchen, in that part which had no windows to the valley, was the +milk-cellar, as they called the dairy, and places for household +storage. A rough causeway ran along the foot of the walls, +connecting the doors in the different blocks. Of these, the kitchen +door for the most part stood open: sometimes the snow would be +coming fast down the wide chimney, with little soft hisses in the +fire, and the business of the house going on without a thought of +closing it, though from it you could not have seen across the yard +for the falling flakes. + +But when my story opens, the summer held the old house and the +older hills in its embrace. The sun was pouring torrents of light +and heat into the valley, and the slopes of it were covered with +green. The bees were about, contenting themselves with the flowers, +while the heather was getting ready its bloom for them, and a boy +of fourteen was sitting in a little garden that lay like a dropped +belt of beauty about the feet of the grim old walls. This was on +the other side--that to the south, parting the house from the slope +where the corn began--now with the ear half-formed. The boy sat on +a big stone, which once must have had some part in the house +itself, or its defences, but which he had never known except as a +seat for himself. His back leaned against the hoary wall, and he +was in truth meditating, although he did not look as if he were. He +was already more than an incipient philosopher, though he could not +yet have put into recognizable shape the thought that was now +passing through his mind. The bees were the primary but not the +main subject of it. It came thus: he thought how glad the bees +would be when their crop of heather was ripe; then he thought how +they preferred the heather to the flowers; then, that the one must +taste nicer to them than the other; and last awoke the question +whether their taste of sweet was the same as his. "For," said he, +"if their honey is sweet to them with the same sweetness with which +it is sweet to me, then there is something in the make of the bee +that's the same with the make of me; and perhaps then a man might +some day, if he wanted, try the taste of being a bee all out for a +little while." But to see him, nobody would have thought he was +doing anything but basking in the sun. The scents of the flowers +all about his feet came and went on the eddies of the air, paying +my lord many a visit in his antechamber, his brain; the windy +noises of the insects, the watery noises of the pigeons, the noises +from the poultry yard, the song of the mountain river, visited, him +also through the portals of his ears; but at the moment, the boy +seemed lost in the mere fundamental satisfaction of existence. + +Neither, although broad summer was on the earth, and all the +hill-tops, and as much of the valleys as their shadows did not +hide, were bathed in sunlight, although the country was his native +land, and he loved it with the love of his country's poets, was the +consciousness of the boy free from a certain strange kind of +trouble connected with, if not resulting from the landscape before +him. A Celt through many of his ancestors, and his mother in +particular, his soul, full of undefined emotion, was aware of an +ever recurring impulse to song, ever checked and broken, ever +thrown back upon itself. There were a few books in the house, +amongst them certain volumes of verse--a copy of Cowly, whose +notable invocation of Light he had instinctively blundered upon; +one of Milton; the translated Ossian; Thomson's Seasons--with a few +more; and from the reading of these, among other results, had +arisen this--that, in the midst of his enjoyment of the world +around him, he found himself every now and then sighing after a +lovelier nature than that before his eyes. There he read of +mountains, if not wilder, yet loftier and more savage than his own, +of skies more glorious, of forests of such trees as he knew only +from one or two old engravings in the house, on which he looked +with a strange, inexplicable reverence: he would sometimes wake +weeping from a dream of mountains, or of tossing waters. Once with +his waking eyes he saw a mist afar off, between the hills that +ramparted the horizon, grow rosy after the sun was down, and his +heart filled as with the joy of a new discovery. Around him, it is +true, the waters rushed well from their hills, but their banks had +little beauty. Not merely did the want of trees distress him, but +the nature of their channel; most of them, instead of rushing +through rocks, cut their way only through beds of rough gravel, and +their bare surroundings were desolate without grandeur--almost mean +to eyes that had not yet pierced to the soul of them. Nor had he +yet learned to admire the lucent brown of the bog waters. There +seemed to be in the boy a strain of some race used to a richer +home; and yet all the time the frozen regions of the north drew his +fancy tenfold more than Italy or Egypt. + +His name was Cosmo, a name brought from Italy by one of the line +who had sold his sword and fought for strangers. Not a few of the +younger branches of the family had followed the same evil +profession, and taken foreign pay--chiefly from poverty and +prejudice combined, but not a little in some cases from the inborn +love of fighting that seems to characterize the Celt. The last +soldier of them had served the East India Company both by sea and +land: tradition more than hinted that he had chiefly served +himself. Since then the heads of the house had been peaceful +farmers of their own land, contriving to draw what to many farmers +nowadays would seem but a scanty subsistence from an estate which +had dwindled to the twentieth part of what it had been a few +centuries before, though even then it could never have made its +proprietor rich in anything but the devotion of his retainers. + +Growing too hot between the sun and the wall, Cosmo rose, and +passing to the other side of the house beyond the court-yard, and +crossing a certain heave of grass, came upon one unfailing delight +in his lot--a preacher whose voice, inarticulate, it is true, had, +ever since he was born, been at most times louder in his ear than +any other. It was a mountain stream, which, through a channel of +rock, such as nearly satisfied his most fastidious fancy, went +roaring, rushing, and sometimes thundering, with an arrow-like, +foamy swiftness, down to the river in the glen below. The rocks +were very dark, and the foam stood out brilliant against them. From +the hill-top above, it came, sloping steep from far. When you +looked up, it seemed to come flowing from the horizon itself, and +when you looked down, it seemed to have suddenly found it could no +more return to the upper regions it had left too high behind it, +and in disgust to shoot headlong to the abyss. There was not much +water in it now, but plenty to make a joyous white rush through the +deep-worn brown of the rock: in the autumn and spring it came down +gloriously, dark and fierce, as if it sought the very centre, wild +with greed after an absolute rest. + +The boy stood and gazed, as was his custom. Always he would seek +this endless water when he grew weary, when the things about him +put on their too ordinary look. Let the aspect of this be what it +might, it seemed still inspired and sent forth by some essence of +mystery and endless possibility. There was in him an unusual +combination of the power to read the hieroglyphic internal aspect +of things, and the scientific nature that bows before fact. He knew +that the stream was in its second stage when it rose from the earth +and rushed past the house, that it was gathered first from the +great ocean, through millions of smallest ducts, up to the +reservoirs of the sky, thence to descend in snows and rains, and +wander down and up through the veins of the earth; but the sense of +its mystery had not hitherto begun to withdraw. Happily for him, +the poetic nature was not merely predominant in him, but dominant, +sending itself, a pervading spirit, through the science that else +would have stifled him. Accepting fact, he found nothing in its +outward relations by which a man can live, any more than by bread; +but this poetic nature, illuminating it as with the polarized ray, +revealed therein more life and richer hope. All this was as yet +however as indefinite as it was operative in him, and I am telling +of him what he could not have told of himself. + +He stood gazing now in a different mood from any that had come to +him before: he had begun to find out something fresh about this +same stream, and the life in his own heart to which it served as a +revealing phantasm. He recognized that what in the stream had drawn +him from earliest childhood, with an infinite pleasure, was the +vague sense, for a long time an ever growing one, of its +MYSTERY--the form the infinite first takes to the simplest and +liveliest hearts. It was because it was ALWAYS flowing that he +loved it, because it could not stop: whence it came was utterly +unknown to him, and he did not care to know. And when at length he +learned that it came flowing out of the dark hard earth, the +mystery only grew. He imagined a wondrous cavity below in black +rock, where it gathered and gathered, nobody could think how--not +coming from anywhere else, but beginning just there, and nowhere +beyond. When, later on, he had to shift its source, and carry it +back to the great sky, it was no less marvellous, and more lovely; +it was a closer binding together of the gentle earth and the awful +withdrawing heavens. These were a region of endless hopes, and ever +recurrent despairs: that his beloved, an earthly finite thing, +should rise there, was added joy, and gave a mighty hope with +respect to the unknown and appalling. But from the sky, he was sent +back to the earth in further pursuit; for, whence came the rain, +his books told him, but from the sea? That sea he had read of, +though never yet beheld, and he knew it was magnificent in its +might; gladly would he have hailed it as an intermediate betwixt +the sky and the earth--so to have the sky come first! but, alas! +the ocean came first in order. And then, worse and worse! how was +the ocean fed but from his loved torrent? How was the sky fed but +from the sea? How was the dark fountain fed but from the sky? How +was the torrent fed but from the fountain? As he sat in the hot +garden, with his back against the old gray wall, the nest of his +family for countless generations, with the scent of the flowers in +his nostrils, and the sound of the bees in his ears, it had begun +to dawn upon him that he had lost the stream of his childhood, the +mysterious, infinite idea of endless, inexplicable, original birth, +of outflowing because of essential existence within! There was no +production any more, nothing but a mere rushing around, like the +ring-sea of Saturn, in a never ending circle of formal change! Like +a great dish, the mighty ocean was skimmed in particles invisible, +which were gathered aloft into sponges all water and no sponge; and +from this, through many an airy, many an earthy channel, deflowered +of its mystery, his ancient, self-producing fountain to a holy +merry river, was FED--only FED! He grew very sad, and well he +might. Moved by the spring eternal in himself, of which the love in +his heart was but a river-shape, he turned away from the deathened +stream, and without knowing why, sought the human elements about +the place. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE KITCHEN. + +He entered the wide kitchen, paved with large slabs of slate. One +brilliant gray-blue spot of sunlight lay on the floor. It came +through a small window to the east, and made the peat-fire glow red +by the contrast. Over the fire, from a great chain, hung a +three-legged pot, in which something was slowly cooking. Between +the fire and the sun-spot lay a cat, content with fate and the +world. At the corner of the fire sat an old lady, in a chair +high-backed, thick-padded, and covered with striped stuff. She had +her back to the window that looked into the court, and was knitting +without regarding her needles. This was Cosmo's grandmother. The +daughter of a small laird in the next parish, she had started in +life with an overweening sense of her own importance through that +of her family, nor had she lived long enough to get rid of it. I +fancy she had clung to it the more that from the time of her +marriage nothing had seemed to go well with the family into which +she had married. She and her husband had struggled and striven, but +to no seeming purpose; poverty had drawn its meshes closer and +closer around them. They had but one son, the present laird, and he +had succeeded to an estate yet smaller and more heavily encumbered. +To all appearance he must leave it to Cosmo, if indeed he left it, +in no better condition. From the growing fear of its final loss, he +loved the place more than any of his ancestors had loved it, and +his attachment to it had descended yet stronger to his son. + +But although Cosmo the elder wrestled and fought against +encroaching poverty, and with little success, he had never forgot +small rights in anxiety to be rid of large claims. What man could +he did to keep his poverty from bearing hard on his dependents, and +never master or landlord was more beloved. Such being his character +and the condition of his affairs, it is not very surprising that he +should have passed middle age before thinking seriously of +marriage. Nor did he then fall in love, in the ordinary sense of +the phrase; he reflected with himself that it would be cowardice so +far to fear poverty as to run the boat of the Warlocks aground, and +leave the scrag end of a property and a history without a man to +take them up, and possibly bear them on to redemption; for who +could tell what life might be in the stock yet! Anyhow, it would be +better to leave an heir to take the remnant in charge, and at least +carry the name a generation farther, even should it be into yet +deeper poverty than hitherto. A Warlock could face his fate. +Thereupon, with a sense of the fitness of things not always +manifested on such occasions, he had paid his addresses to a woman +of five and thirty, the daughter of the last clergyman of the +parish, and had by her been accepted with little hesitation. She +was a capable and brave woman, and, fully informed of the state of +his affairs, married him in the hope of doing something to help him +out of his difficulties. A few pounds she had saved up, and a +trifle her mother had left her, she placed unreservedly at his +disposal, and he in his abounding honesty spent it on his +creditors, bettering things for a time, and, which was of much more +consequence, greatly relieving his mind, and giving the life in him +a fresh start. His marriage was of infinitely more salvation to the +laird than if it had set him free from all his worldly +embarrassments, for it set him growing again--and that is the only +final path out of oppression. + +Whatever were the feelings with which he took his wife home, they +were at least those of a gentleman; and it were a good thing +indeed, if, at the end of five years, the love of most pairs who +marry for love were equal to that of Cosmo Warlock to his +middle-aged wife; and now that she was gone, his reverence for her +memory was something surpassing. From the day almost of his +marriage the miseries of life lost half their bitterness, nor had +it returned at her death. Instinctively he felt that outsiders, +those even who respected him as an honest man, believed that, +somehow or other, they could only conjecture how, he must be to +blame for the circumstances he was in--either this, or providence +did not take care of the just man. Such was virtually the unuttered +conclusion of many, who nevertheless imagined they understood the +Book of Job, and who would have counted Warlock's rare honesty, +pride or fastidiousness or unjustifiable free-handedness. Hence +they came to think and speak of him as a poor creature, and soon +the man, through the keen sensitiveness of his nature, became aware +of the fact. But to his sense of the misprision of neighbours and +friends, came the faith and indignant confidence of his wife like +the closing and binding up and mollifying of a wound with ointment. +The man was of a far finer nature than any of those who thus judged +him, of whom some would doubtless have got out of their +difficulties sooner than he--only he was more honorable in debt +than they were out of it. A woman of strong sense, with an +undeveloped stratum of poetry in the heart of it, his wife was able +to appreciate the finer elements of his nature; and she let him see +very plainly that she did. This was strength and a lifting up of +the head to the husband, who in his youth had been oppressed by the +positiveness, and in his manhood by the opposition, of his mother, +whom the neighbours regarded as a woman of strength and faculty. +And now, although, all his life since, he had had to fight the wolf +as constantly as ever, things, even after his wife's death, +continued very different from what they had been before he married +her; his existence looked a far more acceptable thing seen through +the regard of his wife than through that of his neighbours. They +had been five years married before she brought him an heir to his +poverty, and she lived five years more to train him--then, after a +short illness, departed, and left the now aging man virtually alone +with his little child, coruscating spark of fresh vitality amidst +the ancient surroundings. This was the Cosmo who now, somewhat sore +at heart from the result of his cogitations, entered the kitchen in +search of his kind. + +Another woman was sitting on a three-legged stool, just inside the +door, paring potatoes--throwing each, as she cut off what the old +lady, watching, judged a paring far too thick, into a bowl of +water. She looked nearly as old as her mistress, though she was +really ten years younger. She had come with the late mistress from +her father's house, and had always taken, and still took her part +against the opposing faction--namely the grandmother. + +A second seat--not over easy, but comfortable enough, being simply +a wide arm-chair of elm, with a cushion covered in horse-hair, +stood at the opposite corner of the fire. This was the laird's +seat, at the moment, as generally all the morning till dinner-time, +empty: Cosmo, not once looking up, walked straight to it, +diagonally across the floor, and seated himself like one verily +lost in thought. Now and then, as she peeled, Grizzie would cast a +keen glance at him out of her bright blue eyes, round whose fire +the wrinkles had gathered like ashes: those eyes were sweet and +pleasant, and the expression of her face was one of lovely +devotion; but otherwise she was far from beautiful. She gave a grim +smile to herself every time she glanced up at him from her +potatoes, as much as to say she knew well enough what he was +thinking, though no one else did. "He'll be a man yet!" she said to +herself. + +The old lady also now and then looked over her Stocking at the boy, +where he sat with his back to the white deal dresser, ornate with +homeliest dishes. + +"It'll be lang or ye fill that chair, Cossie, my man!" she said at +length,--but not with the smile of play, rather with the look of +admonition, as if it was the boy's first duty to grow in breadth in +order to fill the chair, and restore the symmetry of the world. + +Cosmo glanced up, but did not speak, and presently was lost again +in the thoughts from which his grandmother had roused him as one is +roused by a jolt on the road. + +"What are you dreaming about, Cossie?" she said again, in a tone +wavering but imperative. + +Her speech was that of a gentlewoman of the old time, when the +highest born in Scotland spoke Scotch. + +Not yet did Cosmo reply. Reverie does not agree well with manners, +but it would besides have been hard for him to answer the old +lady's question--not that he did not know something at least of +what was going on in his mind, but that, he knew instinctively, it +would have sounded in her ears no hair better than the jabber of +Jule Sandy. + +"Mph!" she said, offended at his silence; "Ye'll hae to learn +manners afore ye're laird o' Glenwarlock, young Cosmo!" + +A shadow of indignation passed over Grizzie's rippled, rather than +wrinkled face, but she said nothing. There was a time to speak and +a time to be silent; nor was Grizzie indebted to Solomon, but to +her own experience and practice, for the wisdom of the saw. Only +the pared potatoes splashed louder in the water as they fell. And +the old lady knew as well what that meant, as if the splashes had +been articulate sounds from the mouth of the old partisan. + +The boy rose, and coming forward, rather like one walking in his +sleep, stood up before his grandmother, and said, + +"What was ye sayin', gran'mamma?" + +"I was sayin' what ye wadna hearken till, an that's enouch," she +answered, willing to show offence. + +"Say 't again, gran'mamma, if you please. I wasna noticin'." + +"Na! Is' warran' ye frae noticin'! There ye winna gang, whaur yer +ain fule fancy does na lead the w'y. Cosmo, by gie ower muckle +tether to wull thoucht, an' someday ye'll be laid i' the dub, +followin' what has naither sense intil't, nor this warl's gude. +--What was ye thinkin' aboot the noo?--Tell me that, an' Is' lat ye +gang." + +"I was thinkin' aboot the burnie, gran'mamma." + +"It wad be tellin' ye to lat the burnie rin, an' stick to yer buik, +laddie!" + +"The burnie wull rin, gran'mamma, and the buik 'ill bide," said +Cosmo, perhaps not very clearly understanding himself. + +"Ye're gettin' on to be a man, noo," said his grandmother, heedless +of the word of his defence, "an' ye maun learn to put awa' bairnly +things. There's a heap depen'in' upo' ye, Cosmo. Ye'll be the fift +o' the name i' the family, an' I'm feart ye may be the last. It's +but sma' honour, laddie, to ony man to be the last; an' gien ye +dinna gaither the wit ye hae, and du the best ye can, ye winna lang +be laird o' Glenwarlock. Gien it wasna for Grizzie there, wha has +no richt to owerhear the affairs o' the family, I micht think the +time had come for enlichtenin' ye upo' things it's no shuitable ye +should gang ignorant o'. But we'll put it aff till a mair +convenient sizzon, atween oor ain twa lanes." + +"An' a mair convanient spokesman, I houp, my leddy," said Grizzie, +deeply offended. + +"An' wha sud that be?" rejoined her mistress. + +"Ow, wha but the laird himsel'?" answered Grizzie, "Wha's to come +atween father an' son wi' licht upo' family-affairs? No even the +mistress hersel' wad hae prezhunt upo' that?" + +"Keep your own place, Grizzie," said the old lady with dignity. + +And Grizzie, who, had gone farther in the cause of propriety, than +propriety itself could justify, held her peace. Only the potatoes +splashed yet louder in the bowl. Her mistress sat grimly silent, +for though she had had the last word and had been obeyed, she was +rebuked in herself. Cosmo, judging the specialty of the interview +over, turned and went back to his father's chair; but just as he +was seating himself in it, his father appeared in the doorway. + +The form was that of a tall, thin man, a little bent at the knees +and bowed in the back, who yet carried himself with no small +dignity, cloaked in an air of general apology--as if he would have +said, "I am sorry my way is not yours, for I see very well how +wrong you must think it." He wore large strong shoes--I think a +description should begin with the feet rather than the head--fit +for boggy land; blue, ribbed, woollen stockings; knee-breeches of +some home-made stuff: all the coarser cloth they wore, and they +wore little else, was shorn from their own sheep, and spun, woven, +and made at home; an old blue dress coat with bright buttons; a +drab waistcoat which had once been yellow; and to crown all, a red +woollen nightcap, hanging down on one side with a tassel. + +"Weel, Grizzie!" he said, in a gentle, rather sad voice, as if the +days of his mourning were not yet ended, "I'm ower sune the day!" + +He never passed Grizzie without greeting her, and Grizzie's +devotion to him was like that of slave and sister mingled. + +"Na, laird," she answered, "ye can never be ower sune for yer ain +fowk, though ye may be for yer ain stamack. The taties winna be +lang bilin' the day. They're some sma'." + +"That's because you pare them so much, Grizzie," said the +grandmother. + +Grizzie vouchsafed no reply. + +The moment young Cosmo saw whose shadow darkened the doorway, he +rose in haste, and standing with his hand upon the arm of the +chair, waited for his father to seat himself in it. The laird +acknowledged his attention with a smile, sat down, and looked like +the last sitter grown suddenly old. He put out his hand to the boy +across the low arm of the chair, and the boy laid his hand in his +father's, and so they remained, neither saying a word. The laird +leaned back, and sat resting. All were silent. + +Notwithstanding the oddity of his dress, no one who had any +knowledge of humanity could have failed to see in Cosmo Warlock, +the elder, a high bred gentleman. His face was small, and the skin +of it was puckered into wrinkles innumerable; his mouth was sweet, +but he had lost his teeth, and the lips had fallen in; his chin, +however, was large and strong; while his blue eyes looked out from +under his narrow high forehead with a softly piercing glance of +great gentleness and benignity. A little gray hair clustered about +his temples and the back of his head--the red nightcap hid the +rest. There was three days' growth of gray beard on his chin, for +NOW THAT HE HAD NOBODY, he would say, he had not the heart to shave +every morning. + +For some time he sat looking straight before him, smiling to his +mother's hands as they knitted, she casting on him now and then a +look that seemed to express the consciousness of blame for not +having made a better job of him, or for having given him too much +to do in the care of himself. For neither did his mother believe in +him farther than that he had the best possible intentions in what +he did, or did not do. At the same time she never doubted he was +more of a man than ever his son would be, seeing they had such +different mothers. + +"Grizzie," said the laird, "hae ye a drappy o' soor milk? I'm some +dry." + +"Ay, that hae I, sir!" answered Grizzie with alacrity, and rising +went into the darker region behind the kitchen, whence presently +she emerged with a white basin full of rich milk--half cream, it +was indeed. Without explanation or apology she handed it to her +master, who received and drank it off. + +"Hoots, woman!" he said, "ye wad hae me a shargar (A SKIN-AND-BONE +CALF)! That's no soor milk!" + +"I'm vexed it's no to yer taste, laird!" returned Grizzie coolly, +"but I hae nane better." + +"Ye tellt me ye had soor milk," said the laird--without a particle +of offence, rather in the tone of apology for having by mistake +made away with something too good for him. + +"Weel, laird," replied Grizzie, "it's naething but the guidman's +milk; an' gien ye dinna ken what's guid for ye at your time o' +life, it's weel there sud be anither 'at does. What has a man o' +your 'ears to du drinkin' soor milk--eneuch to turn a' soor +thegither i' the inside o' ye! It's true I win' ye weel a sma' +bairn i' my leddy's airms-- + +"Ye may weel du that!" interrupted her mistress. + +"I wasna weel intil my teens, though, my leddy!" returned Grizzie. +"An' I'm sure," she added, in revenge for the insinuation as to her +age, "it wad ill become ony wuman to grudge a man o' the laird's +stan'in a drap o' the best milk in's ain cellar!" + +"Who spoke of refusing it to him?" said his mother. + +"Ye spak yersel' sic an' siclike," answered Grizzie. + +"Hoots, Grizzie! haud yer tongue, my wuman," said the laird, in the +gentlest tone, yet with reproof in it. "Ye ken weel it's no my +mother wad grudge me the milk ye wad gie me. It was but my'sel' 'at +didna think mysel' worthy o' that same, seein' it's no a week yet +sin' bonny Hawkie dee'd!" + +"An' wad ye hae the Lord's anintit depen' upo' Hawkie?" cried +Grizzie with indignation. + +The contest went no farther, and Grizzie had had the best of it, as +none knew better than she. In a minute or two the laird rose and +went out, and Cosmo went with him. + +Before Cosmo's mother died, old Mrs. Warlock would have been +indignant at the idea of sitting in the kitchen, but things had +combined to bring her to it. She found herself very lonely seated +in state in the drawing-room, where, as there was no longer a +daughter-in-law to go and come, she learned little or nothing of +what was doing about the place, and where few that called cared to +seek her out, for she had never been a favourite with the humbler +neighbours. Also, as time went on, and the sight of money grew +rarer and rarer, it became more desirable to economize light in the +winter. They had not come to that with firing, for, as long as +there were horses and intervals of less labour on the farm, peats +were always to be had--though at the same time, the drawing-room +could not be made so warm as the kitchen. But for light, even for +train-oil to be burned in the simplest of lamps, money had to be +paid--and money was of all ordinary things the seldomest seen at +Castle Warlock. From these operative causes it came by degrees, +that one winter, for the sake of company, of warmth, of economy, +Mistress Warlock had her chair carried to the kitchen; and the +thing once done, it easily and naturally grew to a custom, and +extended itself to the summer as well; for she who had ceased to +stand on ceremony in the winter, could hardly without additional +loss of dignity reascend her pedestal only because it was summer +again. To the laird it was a matter of no consequence where he sat, +ate, or slept. When his wife was alive, wherever she was, that was +the place for him; when she was gone, all places were the same to +him. There was, besides, that in the disposition of the man which +tended to the homely:--any one who imagines that in the least +synonymous with the coarse, or discourteous, or unrefined, has yet +to understand the essentials of good breeding. Hence it came that +the other rooms of the house were by degrees almost neglected. Both +the dining-room and drawing-room grew very cold, cold as with the +coldness of what is dead; and though he slept in the same part of +the house by choice, not often did the young laird enter either. +But he had concerning them, the latter in particular, a notion of +vastness and grandeur; and along with that, a vague sense of +sanctity, which it is not quite easy to define or account for. It +seems however to have the same root with all veneration for +place--for if there were not a natural inclination to venerate +place, would any external reason make men capable of it? I think we +shall come at length to feel all places, as all times and all +spaces, venerable, because they are the outcome of the eternal +nature and the eternal thought. When we have God, all is holy, and +we are at home. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE DRAWING-ROOM. + +As soon as they were out of the kitchen-door, the boy pushed his +hand into his father's; the father grasped it, and without a word +spoken, they walked on together. They would often be half a day +together without a word passing between them. To be near, each to +the other, seemed enough for each. + +Cosmo had thought his father was going somewhere about the farm, to +see how things were getting on; but, instead of crossing to the +other side of the court, where lay the sheds and stables, etc., or +leaving it by the gate, the laird turned to the left, and led the +way to the next block of building, where he stopped at a door at +the farther end of the front of it. It was a heavy oak door, +studded with great broad iron knobs, arranged in angular patterns. +It was set deep in the thick wall, but there were signs of there +having been a second, doubtless still stronger, flush with the +external surface, for the great hooks of the hinges remained, with +the deep hole in the stone on the opposite side for the bolt. The +key was in the lock, for, except to open the windows, and do other +necessary pieces of occasional tendance, it was seldom anybody +entered the place, and Grizzie generally turned the key, and left +it in the lock. She would have been indignant at the assertion, but +I am positive it was not ALWAYS taken out at night. In this part of +the castle were the dining and drawing rooms, and immediately over +the latter, a state bedroom in which nobody had slept for many +years. + +It was into a narrow passage, no wider than itself, the door led. +From this passage a good-sized hall opened to the left--very barely +furnished, but with a huge fireplace, and a great old table, that +often had feasted jubilant companies. The walls were only +plastered, and were stained with damp. Against them were fixed a +few mouldering heads of wild animals--the stag and the fox and the +otter--one ancient wolf's-head also, wherever that had been killed. +But it was not into this room the laird led his son. The passage +ended in a stone stair that went up between containing walls. It +was much worn, and had so little head-room that the laird could not +ascend without stooping. Cosmo was short enough as yet to go erect, +but it gave him always a feeling of imprisonment and choking, a +brief agony of the imagination, to pass through the narrow curve, +though he did so at least twice every day. It was the +oldest-looking thing about the place--that staircase. + +At the top of it, the laird turned to the right, and lifted the +latch--all the doors were latched--of a dark-looking door. It +screaked dismally as it opened. He entered and undid a shutter, +letting an abiding flash of the ever young light of the summer day +into the ancient room. It was long since Cosmo had been in it +before. The aspect of it affected him like a withered wall-flower. + +It was a well-furnished room. A lady with taste must at one time at +least have presided in it--but then withering does so much for +beauty--and that not of stuffs and THINGS only! The furniture of it +was very modern compared with the house, but not much of it was +younger than the last James, or Queen Anne, and it had all a +stately old-maidish look. Such venerable rooms have been described, +and painted, and put on the stage, and dreamed about, tens of +thousands of times, yet they always draw me afresh as if they were +as young as the new children who keep the world from growing old. +They haunt me, and if I miss them in heaven, I shall have one given +me. On the floor was an old, old carpet, wondrously darned and +skilfully patched, with all its colours faded into a sweet faint +ghost-like harmony. Several spider-legged, inlaid tables stood +about the room, but most of the chairs were of a sturdier make, one +or two of rich carved work of India, no doubt a great rarity when +first brought to Glenwarlock. The walls had once had colour, but it +was so retiring and indistinct in the little light that came +through the one small deep-set window whose shutter had been +opened, that you could not have said what it was. There were three +or four cabinets--one of them old Japanese; and on a table a case +of gorgeous humming birds. The scarlet cloth that covered the table +was faded to a dirty orange, but the birds were almost as bright as +when they darted like live jewels through the tropical sunlight. +Exquisite as they were however, they had not for the boy half the +interest of a faded old fire-screen, lovelily worked in silks, by +hands to him unknown, long ago returned to the earth of which they +were fashioned. A variety of nick-nacks and ornaments, not a few of +which would have been of value in the eyes of a connoisseur, +crowded the chimney-piece--which stood over an iron grate with +bulging bars, and a tall brass fender. How still and solemn-quiet +it all was in the middle of the great triumphant sunny day--like +some far-down hollow in a rock, the matrix of a gem! It looked as +if it had done with life--as much done with life as if it were a +room in Egyptian rock, yet was it full of the memories of keenest +life, and Cosmo knew there was treasure upon treasure of wonder and +curiosity hid in those cabinets, some of which he had seen, and +more he would like to see. But it was not to show him any of these +that his father had now brought him to the room. + +Not once yielding the right hand of the boy which was clasped to +and in his own, the laird closed the door of the room, and +advancing the whole length of it, stopped at a sofa covered with a +rich brocade, and seating himself thereon, slowly, and with a kind +of care, drew him between his thin knees, and began to talk to him. +Now there was this difference between the relation of these two and +that of most fathers and sons, that, thus taken into solemn +solitude by his old father, the boy felt no dismay, no sense of +fault to be found, no troubled expectation of admonition. Reverence +and love held about equal sway in his feeling towards his father. +And while the grandmother looked down on Cosmo as the son of his +mother, for that very reason his father in a strange lovely way +reverenced his boy: the reaction was utter devotion. + +Cosmo stood and looked in his father's eyes--their eyes were of the +same colour.--that bright sweet soft Norwegian blue--his right hand +still clasped in his father's left, and his left hand leaning +gently on his father's knee. Then, as I say, the old man began to +talk to the young one. A silent man ordinarily, it was from no lack +of the power of speech, for he had a Celtic gift of simple +eloquence. + +"This is your birthday, my son." + +"Yes, papa." + +"You are now fourteen." + +"Yes, papa." + +"You are growing quite a man." + +"I don't know, papa." + +"So much of a man, at least, my Cosmo, that I am going to treat you +like a man this day, and tell you some things that I have never +talked about to any one since your mother's death.--You remember +your mother, Cosmo?" + +This question he was scarcely ever alone with the boy without +asking--not from forgetfulness, but from the desire to keep the +boy's remembrance of her fresh, and for the pure pleasure of +talking of her to the only one with whom it did not seem profane to +converse concerning his worshipped wife. + +"Yes, papa, I do." + +The laird always spoke Scotch to his mother, and to Grizzie also, +who would have thought him seriously offended had he addressed her +in book-English; but to his Marion's son he always spoke in the +best English he had, and Cosmo did his best in the same way in +return. + +"Tell me what you remember about her," said the old man. + +He had heard the same thing again and again from the boy, yet every +time it was as if he hoped and watched for some fresh revelation +from the lips of the lad--as if, truth being one, memory might go +on recalling, as imagination goes on foreseeing. + +"I remember," said the boy, "a tall beautiful woman, with long +hair, which she brushed before a big, big looking-glass." + +The love of the son, kept alive by the love of the husband, +glorifying through the mists of his memory the earthly appearance +of the mother, gave to her the form in which he would see her +again, rather than that in which he had actually beheld her. And +indeed the father saw her after the same fashion in the memory of +his love. Tall to the boy of five, she was little above the middle +height, yet the husband saw her stately in his dreams; there was +nothing remarkable in her face except the expression, which after +her marriage had continually gathered tenderness and grace, but the +husband as well as the children called her absolutely beautiful. + +"What colour were her eyes, Cosmo?" + +"I don't know; I never saw the colour of them; but I remember they +looked at me as if I should run into them." + +"She would have died for you, my boy. We must be very good that we +may see her again some day." + +"I will try. I do try, papa." + +"You see, Cosmo, when a woman like that condescends to be wife to +one of us and mother to the other, the least we can do, when she is +taken from us, is to give her the same love and the same obedience +after she is gone as when she was with us. She is with her own kind +up in heaven now, but she may be looking down and watching us. It +may be God lets her do that, that she may see of the travail of her +soul and be satisfied--who can tell? She can't be very anxious +about me now, for I am getting old, and my warfare is nearly over; +but she may be getting things ready to rest me a bit. She knows I +have for a long time now been trying to keep the straight path, as +far as I could see it, though sometimes the grass and heather has +got the better of it, so that it was hard to find. But YOU must +remember, Cosmo, that it is not enough to be a good boy, as I shall +tell her you have always been: you've got to be a good man, and +that is a rather different and sometimes a harder thing. For, as +soon as a man has to do with other men, he finds they expect him to +do things they ought to be ashamed of doing themselves; and then he +has got to stand on his own honest legs, and not move an inch for +all their pushing and pulling; and especially where a man loves his +fellow man and likes to be on good terms with him, that is not +easy. The thing is just this, Cosmo--when you are a full-grown man, +you must be a good boy still--that's the difficulty. For a man to +be a boy, and a good boy still, he must be a thorough man. The man +that's not manly can never be a good boy to his mother. And you +can't keep true to your mother, except you remember Him who is +father and mother both to all of us. I wish my Marion were here to +teach you as she taught me. She taught me to pray, Cosmo, as I have +tried to teach you--when I was in any trouble, just to go into my +closet, and shut to the door, and pray to my Father who is in +secret--the same Father who loved you so much as to give you my +Marion for a mother. But I am getting old and tired, and shall soon +go where I hope to learn faster. Oh, my boy! hear your father who +loves you, and never do the thing you would be ashamed for your +mother or me to know. Remember, nothing drops out; everything hid +shall be revealed. But of all things, if ever you should fail or +fall, don't lie still because you are down: get up again--for God's +sake, for your mother's sake, for my sake--get up and try again. + +"And now it is time you should know a little about the family of +which you come. I don't doubt there have been some in it who would +count me a foolish man for bringing you up as I have done, but +those of them who are up there don't. They see that the business of +life is not to get as much as you can, but to do justly, and love +mercy, and walk humbly with your God--with your mother's God, my +son. They may say I have made a poor thing of it, but I shall not +hang my head before the public of that country, because I've let +the land slip from me that I couldn't keep any more than this weary +old carcase that's now crumbling away from about me. Some would +tell me I ought to shudder at the thought of leaving you to such +poverty, but I am too anxious about yourself, my boy, to think much +about the hardships that may be waiting you. I should be far more +afraid about you if I were leaving you rich. I have seen rich +people do things I never knew a poor gentleman do. I don't mean to +say anything against the rich--there's good and bad of all sorts; +but I just can't be so very sorry that I am leaving you to poverty, +though, if I might have had my way, it wouldn't have been so bad. +But he knows best who loves best. I have struggled hard to keep the +old place for you; but there's hardly an acre outside the garden +and close but was mortgaged before I came into the property. I've +been all my life trying to pay off, but have made little progress. +The house is free, however, and the garden; and don't you part with +the old place, my boy, except you see you OUGHT. But rather than +anything not out and out honest, anything the least doubtful, sell +every stone. Let all go, if you should have to beg your way home to +us. Come clean, my son, as my Marion bore you." + +Here Cosmo interrupted his father to ask what MORTGAGED meant. This +led to an attempt on the part of the laird to instruct him in the +whole state of the affairs of the property. He showed him where all +the papers were kept, and directed him to whom to go for any +requisite legal advise. Weary then of business, of which he had all +his life had more than enough, he turned to pleasanter matters, and +began to tell him anecdotes of the family. + +"What in mercy can hae come o' the laird, think ye, my leddy?" said +Grizzie to her mistress. "It's the yoong laird's birthday, ye see, +an' they aye haud a colloguin' thegither upo' that same, an' I +kenna whaur to gang to cry them till their denner." + +"Run an' ring the great bell," said the grandmother, mindful of old +glories. + +"'Deed, Is' du naething o' the kin'," said Grizzie to herself; +"it's eneuch to raise a regiment--gien it camna doon upo' my heid." + +But she had her suspicion, and finding the great door open, +ascended the stair. + +The two were sitting at a table, with the genealogical tree of the +family spread out before them, the father telling tale after tale, +the son listening in delight. I must confess, however--let it tell +against the laird's honesty as it may--that, his design being +neither to glorify his family, nor to teach records, but to impress +all he could find of ancestral nobility upon his boy, he made a +choice, and both communicated and withheld. So absorbed were they, +that Grizzie's knock startled them both a good deal. + +"Yer denners is ready, laird," she said, standing erect in the +doorway. + +"Verra weel, Grizzie, I thank ye," returned the laird.--"Cosmo, +we'll take a walk together this evening, and then I'll tell you +more about that brother of my grandfather's. Come along to dinner +now.--I houp ye hae something in honour o' the occasion, Grizzie," +he added in a whisper when he reached the door, where the old woman +waited to follow them. + +"I teuk it upo' me, laird," answered Grizzie in the same tone, +while Cosmo was going down the stair, "to put a cock an' a leek +thegither, an' they'll be nane the waur that ye hae keepit them i' +the pot a whilie langer.--Cosmo," she went on when they had +descended, and overtaken the boy, who was waiting for them at the +foot, "the Lord bless ye upo' this bonnie day! An' may ye be aye a +comfort to them 'at awes ye, as ye hae been up to this present." + +"I houp sae, Grizzie," responded Cosmo humbly; and all went +together to the kitchen. + +There the table was covered with a clean cloth of the finest of +homespun, and everything set out with the same nicety as if the +meal had been spread in the dining-room. The old lady, who had +sought to please her son by putting on her best cap for the +occasion, but who had in truth forgot what day it was until +reminded by Grizzie, sat already at the head of the table, waiting +their arrival. She made a kind speech to the boy, hoping he would +be master of the place for many years after his father and she had +left him. Then the meal commenced. It did not last long. They had +the soup first, and then the fowl that had been boiled in it, with +a small second dish of potatoes--the year's baby Kidneys, besides +those Grizzie had pared. Delicate pancakes followed--and dinner was +over--except for the laird, who had a little toddy after. But as +yet Cosmo had never even tasted strong drink--and of course he +never desired it. Leaving the table, he wandered out, pondering +some of the things his father had been telling him. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +AN AFTERNOON SLEEP. + +Presently, without having thought whither he meant to go, he found +himself out of sight of the house--in a favourite haunt, but one in +which he always had a peculiar feeling of strangeness and even +expatriation. He had descended the stream that rushed past the end +of the house, till it joined the valley river, and followed the +latter up, to where it took a sudden sharp turn, and a little +farther. Then he crossed it, and was in a lonely nook of the glen, +with steep braes about him on all sides, some of them covered with +grass, others rugged and unproductive. He threw himself down in the +clover, a short distance from the stream, and straightway felt as +if he were miles from home. No shadow of life was to be seen. +Cottage-chimney nor any smoke was visible--no human being, no work +of human hands, no sign of cultivation except the grass and clover. + +Now whether it was that in childhood he had learned that here he +was beyond his father's land, or that some early sense of +loneliness in the place had been developed by a brooding fancy into +a fixed feeling, I cannot well say; but certainly, as often as he +came--and he liked to visit the spot, and would sometimes spend +hours in it--he felt like a hermit of the wilderness cut off from +human society, and was haunted with a vague sense of neighbouring +hostility. Probably it came of an historical fancy that the nook +ought to be theirs, combined with the sense that it was not. But +there had been no injury done ab extra: the family had suffered +from the inherent moral lack of certain of its individuals. + +This sense of away-from-homeness, however, was not strong enough to +keep Cosmo from falling into such a dreamful reverie as by degrees +naturally terminated in slumber. Seldom is sleep far from one who +lies on his back in the grass, with the sound of waters in his +ears. And indeed a sleep in the open air was almost an essential +ingredient of a holiday such as Cosmo had been accustomed to make +of his birthday: constantly active as his mind was, perhaps in part +because of that activity, he was ready to fall asleep any moment +when warm and supine. + +When he woke from what seemed a dreamless sleep, his half roused +senses were the same moment called upon to render him account of +something very extraordinary which they could not themselves +immediately lay hold of. Though the sun was yet some distance above +the horizon, it was to him behind one of the hills, as he lay with +his head low in the grass; and what could the strange thing be +which he saw on the crest of the height before him, on the other +side of the water? Was it a fire in a grate, thinned away by the +sunlight? How could there be a grate where there was neither house +nor wall? Even in heraldry the combination he beheld would have +been a strange one. There stood in fact a frightful-looking +creature half consumed in light--yet a pale light, seemingly not +strong enough to burn. It could not be a phoenix, for he saw no +wings, and thought he saw four legs. Suddenly he burst out +laughing, and laughed that the hills echoed. His sleep-blinded eyes +had at length found their focus and clarity. + +"I see!" he said, "I see what it is! It's Jeames Grade's coo 'at's +been loupin' ower the mune, an's stucken upo' 't!" + +In very truth there was the moon between the legs of the cow! She +did not remain there long however, but was soon on the cow's back, +as she crept up and up in the face of the sun. He bethought him of +a couplet that Grizzie had taught him when he was a child: + +Whan the coo loups ower the mune, The reid gowd rains intil men's +shune. + +And in after-life he thought not unfrequently of this odd vision he +had had. Often, when, having imagined he had solved some difficulty +of faith or action, presently the same would return in a new shape, +as if it had but taken the time necessary to change its garment, he +would say to himself with a sigh, "The coo's no ower the mune yet!" +and set himself afresh to the task of shaping a handle on the +infinite small enough for a finite to lay hold of. Grizzie, who was +out looking for him, heard the roar of his laughter, and, guided by +the sound, spied him where he lay. He heard her footsteps, but +never stirred till he saw her looking down upon him like a +benevolent gnome that had found a friendless mortal asleep on +ground of danger. + +"Eh, Cosmo, laddie, ye'll get yer deid o' caul'!" she cried. "An' +preserve's a'! what set ye lauchin' in sic a fearsome fashion as +yon? Ye're surely no fey!" + +"Na, I'm no fey, Grizzie! Ye wad hae lauchen yersel' to see Jeames +Gracie's coo wi' the mune atween the hin' an' the fore legs o' her. +It was terrible funny." + +"Hoots! I see naething to lauch at i' that. The puir coo cudna help +whaur the mune wad gang. The haivenly boadies is no to be +restricket." + +Again Cosmo burst into a great laugh, and this time Grizzie, +seriously alarmed lest he should be in reality fey, grew angry, and +seizing hold of him by the arm, pulled lustily. + +"Get up, I tell ye!" she cried. "Here's the laird speirin' what's +come o' ye,'at ye come na hame to yer tay." + +But Cosmo instead of rising only laughed the more, and went on +until at length Grizzie made use of a terrible threat. + +"As sure's sowens!" she said, "gien ye dinna haud yer tongue wi' +that menseless-like lauchin', I'll no tell ye anither auld-warld +tale afore Marti'mas." + +"Will ye tell me ane the nicht gien I haud my tongue an' gang hame +wi' ye?" + +"Ay, that wull I--that's gien I can min' upo' ane." + +He rose at once, and laughed no more. They walked home together in +the utmost peace. + +After tea, his father went out with him for a stroll, and to call +on Jeames Gracie, the owner of the cow whose inconstellation had so +much amused him. He was an old man, with an elderly wife, and a +grand-daughter--a weaver to trade, whose father and grandfather +before him had for many a decade done the weaving work, both in +linen and wool, required by "them at the castle." He had been on +the land, in the person of his ancestors, from time almost +immemorial, though he had only a small cottage, and a little bit of +land, barely enough to feed the translunar cow. But poor little +place as Jeames's was, if the laird would have sold it the price +would have gone a good way towards clearing the rest of his +property of its encumbrances. For the situation of the little spot +was such as to make it specially desirable in the eyes of the next +proprietor, on the border of whose land it lay. He was a lord of +session, and had taken his title from the place, which he inherited +from his father; who, although a laird, had been so little of a +gentleman, that the lordship had not been enough to make one of his +son. He was yet another of those trim, orderly men, who will +sacrifice anything--not to beauty--of that they have in general no +sense--but to tidiness: tidiness in law, in divinity, in morals, in +estate, in garden, in house, in person--tidiness is in their eyes +the first thing--seemingly because it is the highest creative +energy of which they are capable. Naturally the dwelling of James +Gracie was an eyesore to this man, being visible from not a few of +his windows, and from almost anywhere on the private road to his +house; for decidedly it was not tidy. Neither in truth was it +dirty, while to any life--loving nature it was as pleasant to know, +as it was picturesque to look at. But the very appearance of +poverty seems to act as a reproach on some of the rich--at least +why else are they so anxious to get it out of their sight?--and +Lord Lickmyloof--that was not his real title, but he was better +known by it than by the name of his land: it came of a nasty habit +he had, which I need not at present indicate farther--Lord +Lickmyloof could not bear the sight of the cottage which no painter +would have consented to omit from the landscape. It haunted him +like an evil thing. + +[Illustration with caption: COSMO ON HIS WAY TO SCHOOL.] + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE SCHOOL. + + +The next morning, by the steep farm road, and the parish road, +which ran along the border of the river and followed it downward, +Cosmo, on his way to school, with his books in a green baize bag, +hung by the strings over his shoulder, came out from among the +hills upon a comparative plain. But there were hills on all sides +round him yet--not very high--few of them more than a couple of +thousand feet--but bleak and bare, even under the glow of the +summer sun, for the time of heather was not yet, when they would +show warm and rich to the eye of poet and painter. Most of the +farmers there, however, would have felt a little insulted by being +asked to admire them at any time: whatever their colour or shape or +product, they were incapable of yielding crops and money! In truth +many a man who now admires, would be unable to do so, if, like +those farmers, he had to struggle with nature for little more than +a bare living. The struggle there, what with early, long-lasting, +and bitter winters, and the barrenness of the soil in many parts, +was a severe one. + +Leaving the river, the road ascended a little, and joined the +highway, which kept along a level, consisting mostly of land lately +redeemed from the peat-moss. It went straight for two miles, fenced +from the fields in many parts by low stone walls without mortar, +abhorrent to the eye of Cosmo; in other parts by walls of earth, +called dykes, which delighted his very soul. These were covered +with grass for the vagrant cow, sprinkled with loveliest little +wild flowers for the poet-peasant, burrowed in by wild bees for the +adventurous delight of the honey-drawn school-boy. Glad I am they +had not quite vanished from Scotland before I was sent thither, but +remained to help me get ready for the kingdom of heaven: those +dykes must still be dear to my brothers who have gone up before me. +Some of the fields had only a small ditch between them and the +road, and some of them had no kind of fence at all. It was a dreary +road even in summer, though not therefore without its loveable +features--amongst which the dykes; and wherever there is anything +to love, there is beauty in some form. + +A short way past the second milestone, he came to the first +straggling houses of the village. It was called Muir of Warlock, +after the moor on which it stood, as the moor was called after the +river that ran through it, and that named after the glen, which +took its name from the family--so that the Warlocks had scattered +their cognomen all around them. A somewhat dismal-looking village +it was--except to those that knew its people: to some of such it +was beautiful--as the plainest face is beautiful to him who knows a +sweet soul inside it. The highway ran through it--a broad fine +road, fit for the richest country under the sun; but the causeway +along its edges, making of it for the space a street, was of the +poorest and narrowest. Some of the cottages stood immediately upon +the path, some of them receded a little. They were almost all of +one story, built of stone, and rough-cast-harled, they called it +there, with roofs of thick thatch, in which a half smothered pane +of glass might hint at some sort of room beneath. As Cosmo walked +along, he saw all the trades at work; from blacksmith to tailor, +everybody was busy. Now and then he was met by a strong scent, as +of burning leather, from the oak-bark which some of the housewives +used for fuel, after its essence had been exhausted in the tan-pit, +but mostly the air was filled with the odour of burning peat. Cosmo +knew almost everybody, and was kindly greeted as he went +along--none the less that some of them, hearing from their children +that he had not been to school the day before, had remarked that +his birthday hardly brought him enough to keep it with. The +vulgarity belonging to the worship of Mammon, is by no means +confined to the rich; many of these, having next to nothing, yet +thought profession the one thing, money, houses, lands the only +inheritances. It is a marvel that even world-loving people should +never see with what a load they oppress the lives of the children +to whom, instead of bringing them up to earn their own living, and +thus enjoy at least THE GAME of life, they leave a fortune enough +to sink a devil yet deeper in hell. Was it nothing to Cosmo to +inherit a long line of ancestors whose story he knew--their +virtues, their faults, their wickedness, their humiliation?--to +inherit the nobility of a father such as his? the graciousness of a +mother such as that father caused him to remember her? Was there no +occasion for the laird to rejoice in the birth of a boy whom he +believed to have inherited all the virtues of his race, and left +all their vices behind? But none of the villagers forgot, however +they might regard the holiday, that Cosmo was the "yoong laird" +notwithstanding the poverty of his house; and they all knew that in +old time the birthday of the heir had been a holiday to the school +as well as to himself, and remembered the introduction of the +change by the present master. Indeed, throughout the village, +although there were not a few landed proprietors in the +neighbourhood whose lands came nearer, all of whom of course were +lairds, and although the village itself had ceased to belong to the +family, Glenwarlock was always called _the_ laird; and the better part +in the hearts of even the money-loving and money-trusting among its +inhabitants, honoured him as the best man in the country, "thof he hed +sae little skeel at haudin' his ain nest thegither;" and though, +besides, there is scarce a money-making man who does not believe +poverty the cousin, if not the child of fault; and the more +unscrupulous, _within the law_, a man has been in making his money, +the more he regards the man who seems to have lost the race he has +won, as somehow or other to blame: "People with naught are naughty." +Nor is this judgment confined to the morally unscrupulous. Few who +are themselves permitted to be successful, care to conjecture that it +may be the will of the power, that in part through their affairs, +rules men, that some should be, in that way, unsuccessful: better +can be made of them by preventing the so-called success. Some men +rise with the treatment under which others would sink. But of the +inhabitants of Muir of Warlock, only a rather larger proportion +than of the inhabitants of Mayfair would have taken interest in +such a theory of results. + +They all liked, and those who knew him best, loved the young laird; +for if he had no lands, neither had he any pride, they said, and +was as happy sitting with any old woman, and sharing her tea, as at +a lord's table. Nor was he less of a favourite at school, though, +being incapable of self-assertion, his inborn consciousness of +essential humanity rendering it next to impossible for him to +_claim_ anything, some of the bigger boys were less than friendly with +him. One point in his conduct was in particular distasteful to them: +he seemed to scorn even an honest advantage. For in truth he never +could bring himself, in the small matters of dealing that pass between +boys at school, to make the least profit. He had a passion for fair +play, which, combined with love to his neighbour, made of an +advantage, though perfectly understood and recognized, almost a +physical pain: he shrank from it with something like disgust. I may +not, however, conceal my belief, that there was in it a rudimentary +tinge of the pride of those of his ancestors who looked down upon +commerce, though not upon oppression, or even on robbery. But the true +man will change to nobility even the instincts derived from strains of +inferior moral development in his race--as the oyster makes, they say, +of the sand-grain a pearl. + +Greeting the tailor through his open window, where he sat +cross-legged on his table, the shoemaker on his stool, which, this +lovely summer morning, he had brought to the door of his cottage, +and the smith in his nimbus of sparks, through the half-door of his +smithy, and receiving from each a kindly response, the boy walked +steadily on till he came to the school. There, on the heels of the +master, the boys and girls were already crowding in, and he entered +along with them. The religious preliminaries over, consisting in a +dry and apparently grudging recognition of a sovereignty that +required the homage, and the reading of a chapter of the Bible in +class, the SECULAR business was proceeded with; and Cosmo was +sitting with his books before him, occupied with a hard passage in +Caesar, when the master left his desk and came to him. + +"You'll have to make up for lost time to-day, Cosmo," he said. + +Now if anything was certain to make Cosmo angry, it was the +appearance, however slight, or however merely implied, of +disapproval of anything his father thought, or did, or sanctioned. +His face flushed, and he answered quickly, + +"The time wasn't lost, sir." + +This reply made the master in his turn angry, but he restrained +himself. + +"I'm glad of that! I may then expect to find you prepared with your +lessons for to-day." + +"I learned my lessons for yesterday," Cosmo answered; "but my +father says it's no play to learn lessons." + +"Your father's not master of this school." + +"He's maister o' me," returned the boy, relapsing into the +mother-tongue, which, except it be spoken in good humour, always +sounds rude. + +The master took the youth's devotion to his father for insolence to +himself. + +"I shall say no more," he rejoined, still using the self-command +which of all men an autocrat requires, "till I find how you do in +your class. That you are the best scholar in it, is no reason why +you should be allowed to idle away hours in which you might have +been laying up store for the time to come."--It was a phrase much +favoured by the master--in present application foolish.--"But +perhaps your father does not mean to send you to college?" + +"My father hasna said, an' I haena speirt," answered Cosmo, with +his eyes on his book. + +Still misinterpreting the boy, the conceit and ill-temper of the +master now overcame him, and caused him to forget the proprieties +altogether. + +"Haud on that gait, laddie, an' ye'll be as great a fule as yer +father himsel'," he said. + +Cosmo rose from his seat, white as the wall behind him, looked in +the master's eyes, caught up his Caesar, and dashed the book in his +face. Most boys would then have made for the door, but that was not +Cosmo's idea of bearing witness. The moment the book left his hand, +he drew himself up, stood still as a statue, looked full at the +master, and waited. Not by a motion would he avoid any consequence +of his act. + +He had not long to wait. A corner of the book had gone into the +master's eye; he clapped his hand to it, and for a moment seemed +lost in suffering. The next, he clenched for the boy a man's fist, +and knocked him down. Cosmo fell backward over the form, struck his +head hard on the foot of the next desk, and lay where he fell. + +A shriek arose, and a girl about sixteen came rushing up. She was +the grand-daughter of James Grade, befriended of the laird. + +"Go to your seat, Agnes!" shouted the master, and turning from her, +stood, with his handkerchief to one eye, looking down on the boy. +So little did he know him, he suspected him of pretending to be +more hurt than he was. + +"Touch me gien ye daur," cried Agnes, as she stooped to remove his +legs from the form. + +"Leave him alone," shouted the master, and seizing her, pulled her +away, and flung her from him that she almost fell. + +But by this time the pain in his eye had subsided a little, and he +began to doubt whether indeed the boy was pretending as he had +imagined. He began also to feel not a little uneasy as to the +possible consequences of his hasty act--not half so uneasy, +however, as he would have felt, had the laird been as well-to-do as +his neighbour, Lord Lickmyloof--who would be rather pleased than +otherwise, the master thought, at any grief that might befall +either Cosmo or the lass Gracie. Therefore, although he would have +been ready to sink had the door then opened and the laird entered, +he did not much fear any consequences to be counted serious from +the unexpected failure of his self-command. He dragged the boy up +by the arm, and set him on his seat, before Agnes could return; but +his face was as that of one dead, and he fell forward on the desk. +With a second great cry, Agnes again sprang forward. She was a +strong girl, accustomed to all kinds of work, out-door and in-door. +She caught Cosmo round the waist from behind, pulled him from the +seat, and drew him to the door, which because of the heat stood +open. The master had had enough of it, and did not attempt to +hinder her. There she took him in her arms, and literally ran with +him along the street. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +GRANNIE'S COTTAGE. + + +But she had not to pass many houses before she came to that of her +grandfather's mother, an aged woman, I need not say, but in very +tolerable health and strength nevertheless. She sat at her spinning +wheel, with her door wide open. Suddenly, and, to her dulled sense, +noiselessly, Aggie came staggering in with her burden. She dropped +him on the old woman's bed, and herself on the floor, her heart and +lungs going wildly. + +"I' the name o' a'!" cried her great-grandmother, stopping her +wheel, breaking her thread, and letting the end twist madly up +amongst the revolving iron teeth, emerging from the mist of their +own speed, in which a moment before they had looked ethereal as the +vibration-film of an insect's wings. + +She rose with a haste marvellous for her years, and approaching, +looked down on the prostrate form of the girl. + +"It can never be my ain Aggie," she faltered, "to rush intil my +quaiet hoose that gait, fling a man upo' my bed, an' fa' her len'th +upo' my flure!" + +But Agnes was not yet able to reply. She could only sign with her +hand to the bed, which she did with such energy that her +great-grandmother--GRANNIE, she called her, as did the whole of the +village--turned at once thitherward. She could not see well, and +the box-bed was dark, so she did not at first recognize Cosmo, but +the moment she suspected who it was, she too uttered a cry--the cry +of old age, feeble and wailful. + +"The michty be ower's! what's come to my bairn?" she said. + +"The maister knockit him doon," gasped Agnes. + +"Eh, lassie! rin for the doctor." + +"No," came feebly from the bed. "I dinna want ony notice ta'en o' +the business." + +"Are ye sair hurtit, my bairn?" asked the old woman. + +"My heid's some sair an' throughither-like; but I'll just lie still +a wee, and syne I'll be able to gang hame. I'm some sick. I winna +gang back to the school the day." + +"Na, my bonnie man, that ye sanna!" cried Grannie, in a tone +mingled of pity and indignation. + +A moment more, and Agnes rose from the earth, for earth it was, +quite fresh; and the two did all they could to make him +comfortable. Aggie would have gone at once to let his father know; +she was perfectly able, she said, and in truth seemed nothing the +worse for her fierce exertion. But Cosmo said, "Bide a wee, Aggie, +an' we'll gang hame thegither. I'll be better in twa or three +minutes." But he did not get better so fast as he expected, and the +only condition on which Grannie would consent not to send for the +doctor, was, that Agnes should go and tell his father. + +"But eh, Aggie!" said Cosmo, "dinna lat him think there's onything +to be fleyt aboot. It's naething but a gey knap o' the heid; an' +I'm sure the maister didna inten' duin me ony sarious hurt.--But my +father's sure to gie him fair play!--he gies a' body fair play." + +Agnes set out, and Cosmo fell asleep. + +He slept a long time, and woke better. She hurried to Glenwarlock, +and in the yard found the laird. + +"Weel, lassie!" he said, "what brings ye here this time o' day? +What for are ye no at the school? Ye'll hae little eneuch o' 't by +an' by, whan the hairst 's come." + +"It's the yoong laird!" said Aggie, and stopped. + +"What's come till 'im?" asked the laird, in the sharpened tone of +anxiety. + +"It's no muckle, he says himsel'. But his heid's some sair yet." + +"What maks his heid sair? He was weel eneuch whan he gaed this +mornin'." + +"The maister knockit 'im doon." + +The laird started as if one had struck him in the face. The blood +reddened his forehead, and his old eyes flashed like two stars. All +the battle-fury of the old fighting race seemed to swell up from +ancient fountains amongst the unnumbered roots of his being, and +rush to his throbbing brain. He clenched his withered fist, drew +himself up straight, and made his knees strong. For a moment he +felt as in the prime of life and its pride. The next his fist +relaxed, his hand fell by his side, and he bowed his head. + +"The Lord hae mercy upo' me!" he murmured. "I was near takin' the +affairs o' ane o' his into MY han's!" + +He covered his face with his wrinkled hands, and the girl stood +beside him in awe-filled silence. But she did not quite comprehend, +and was troubled at seeing him stand thus motionless. In the +trembling voice of one who would comfort her superior, she said, + +"Dinna greit, laird. He'll be better, I'm thinkin', afore ye win +till 'im. It was Grannie gart me come--no him." + +Speechless the laird turned, and without even entering the house, +walked away to go to the village. He had reached the valley-road +before he discovered that Agnes was behind him. + +"Dinna ye come, Aggie," he said; "ye may be wantit at hame." + +"Ye dinna think I wad ley ye, laird!--'cep' ye was to think fit to +sen' me frea ye. I'm maist as guid's a man to gang wi' ye--wi' the +advantage o' bein' a wuman, as my mither tells me:"--She called her +grandmother, MOTHER.--"ye see we can daur mair nor ony man--but, +Guid forgie me!--no mair nor the yoong laird whan he flang his +CAESAR straucht i' the maister's face this verra mornin'." + +The laird stopped, turned sharply round, and looked at her. + +"What did he that for?" he said. + +"'Cause he ca'd yersel' a fule," answered the girl, with the utmost +simplicity, and no less reverence. + +The laird drew himself up once more, and looked twenty years +younger. But it was not pride that inspired him, nor indignation, +but the father's joy at finding in his son his champion. + +"Mony ane's ca'd me that, I weel believe, lassie, though no to my +ain face or that a' my bairn. But whether I deserve't or no, nane +but ane kens. It's no by the word o' man I stan' or fa'; but it's +hoo my maister luiks upo' my puir endeevour to gang by the thing he +says. Min' this, lassie--lat fowk say as they like, but du ye as HE +likes, an', or a' be dune, they'll be upo' their k-nees to ye. An' +sae they'll be yet to my bairn--though I'm some tribbled he sud hae +saired the maister--e'en as he deserved." + +"What cud he du, sir? It was na for himsel' he strack! An' syne he +never muved an inch, but stud there like a rock, an' liftit no a +han' to defen' himsel', but jist loot the maister tak his wull o' +'im." + +The pair tramped swiftly along the road, heeding nothing on either +hand as they went, Aggie lithe and active, the laird stooping +greatly in his forward anxiety to see his injured boy, but walking +much faster "than his age afforded." Before they reached the +village, the mid-day recess had come, and everybody knew what had +happened. Loud were most in praise of the boy's behaviour, and many +were the eyes that from window and door watched the laird, as he +hurried down the street to "Grannie's," where all had learned the +young laird was lying. But no one spoke, or showed that he was +looking, and the laird walked straight on with his eyes to the +ground, glancing neither to the right hand nor the left; and as did +the laird, so did Aggie. + +The door of the cottage stood open. There was a step down, but the +laird knew it well. Turning to the left through a short passage, in +the window of which stood a large hydrangea, over two wooden pails +of water, he lifted the latch of the inner door, bowed his tall +head, and entered the room where lay his darling. With a bow to +Grannie, he went straight up to the bed, speedily discovered that +Cosmo slept, and stood regarding him with a full heart. Who can +tell but him who knows it, how much more it is to be understood by +one's own, than by all the world beside! By one's own one learns to +love all God's creatures, and from one's own one gets strength to +meet the misprision of the world. + +The room was dark though it was summer, and although it had two +windows, one to the street, and one to the garden behind: both +ceiling and floor were of a dark brown, for the beams and boards of +the one were old and interpenetrated with smoke, and the other was +of hard-beaten clay, into which also was wrought much smoke and an +undefinable blackness, while the windows were occupied with +different plants favoured of Grannie, so that little light could +get in, and that little was half-swallowed by the general +brownness. A tall eight-day clock stood in one corner, up to which, +whoever would learn from it the time, had to advance +confidentially, and consult its face on tip-toe, with peering eyes. +Beside it was a beautifully polished chest of drawers; a nice +tea-table stood in the centre, and some dark-shiny wooden chairs +against the walls. A closet opened at the head of the bed, and at +the foot of it was the door of the room and the passage, so that it +stood in a recess, to which were wooden doors, seldom closed. A +fire partly of peat, partly of tan, burned on the little hearth. + +Cosmo opened his eyes, and saw those of his father looking down +upon him. He stretched out his arms, and drew the aged head upon +his bosom. His heart was too full to speak. + +"How do you find yourself, my boy?" said the father, gently +releasing himself. "I know all about it; you need not trouble +yourself to tell me more than just how you are." + +"Better, father, much better," answered Cosmo. "But there is one +thing I must tell you. Just before it happened we were reading in +the Bible-class about Samson--how the spirit of the Lord came upon +him, and with the jaw-bone of an ass he slew ever so many of the +Philistines; and when the master said that bad word about you, it +seemed as if the spirit of the Lord came upon me; for I was not in +a rage, but filled with what seemed a holy indignation; and as I +had no ass's jaw-bone handy, I took my Caesar, and flung it as hard +and as straight, as I could in the master's face. But I am not so +sure about it now." + +"Tak ye nae thoucht anent it, Cosmo, my bairn," said the old woman, +taking up the word; "it's no a hair ayont what he deserved 'at +daured put sic a word to the best man in a' the country. By the +han' o' a babe, as he did Goliah o' Gath, heth the Lord rebuked the +enemy.--The Lord himsel' 's upo' your side, laird, to gie ye siccan +a brave son." + +"I never kent him lift his han' afore," said the laird, as if he +would fain mitigate judgment on youthful indiscretion,--"excep' it +was to the Kirkmalloch bull, when he ran at him an' me as gien he +wad hae pitcht 's ower the wa' o' the warl'." + +"The mair like it WAS the speerit o' the Lord, as the bairn himsel' +was jaloosin," remarked Grannie, in a tone of confidence to which +the laird was ready enough to yield;--"an' whaur the speerit o' the +Lord is, there's leeberty," she added, thinking less of the +suitableness of the quotation, than of the aptness of words in it. +Glenwarlock stooped and kissed the face of his son, and went to +fetch the doctor. Before he returned, Cosmo was asleep again. The +doctor would not have him waked. From his pulse and the character +of his sleep he judged he was doing well. He had heard all about +the affair before, but heard all now as for the first time, assured +the laird there was no danger, said he would call again, and +recommended him to go home. The boy must remain where he was for +the night, he said, and if the least ground for uneasiness should +show itself, he would ride over, and make his report. + +"I don't know what to think," returned the laird: "it would be +trouble and inconvenience to Grannie." + +"'Deed, laird, ye sud be ashamt to say sic a thing: it'll be +naething o' the kin'!" cried the old woman." Here he s' bide--wi' +yer leave, sir, an' no muv frae whaur he lies! There's anither bed +i' the cloaset there. But, troth, what wi' the rheumatics, +an'--an'--the din o' the rottans, we s' ca' 't, mony's the nicht I +gang to nae bed ava'; an' to hae the yoong laird sleepin' i' my +bed, an' me keepin' watch ower 'im,'ill be jist like haein' an +angel i' the hoose to luik efter. I'll be somebody again for ae +nicht, I can tell ye! An' oh! it's a lang time, sir, sin' I was +onybody i' this warl'! I houp sair they'll hae something for auldfowk +to du i' the neist." + +"Hoots, mistress Forsyth," returned the laird, "the' 'll be naebody +auld there!" + +"Hoo am I to win in than, sir? I'm auld, gien onybody ever was +auld! An' hoo's yersel' to win in, sir--for ye maun be some auld +yersel' by this time, thof I min' weel yer father a bit loonie in a +tartan kilt." + +"What wad ye say to be made yoong again, auld frien'?" suggested +the laird, with a smile of wonderful sweetness. + +"Eh, sir! there's naething to that effec' i' the word." + +"Hoot!" rejoined the laird, "wad ye hae me plaguit to tell the +laddie there a' thing I wad du for him, as gien he hadna a hert o' +his ain to tell 'im a score o'things--ay, hun'ers o' things? Dinna +ye ken 'at the speerit o' man's the can'le o' the Lord?" + +"But sae mony for a' that follows but their ain fancies!--That ye +maun alloo, laird; an' what comes o' yer can'le than?" + +"That' sic as never luik whaur the licht fa's, but aye some ither +gait, for they carena to walk by the same. But them 'at orders +their wy's by what licht they hae, there's no fear o' them. Even +sud they stummle, they sanna fa'." + +"'Deed, laird, I'm thinkin' ye may be richt. I hae stummlet mony's +the time, but I'm no doon yet; an' I hae a guid houp 'at maybe, +puir dissiple as I am, the Maister may lat on 'at he kens me, whan +that great and terrible day o' the Lord comes." + +Cosmo began to stir. His father went to the bed-side, and saw at a +glance that the boy was better. He told him what the doctor had +decreed. Cosmo said he was quite able to get up and go home that +minute. But his father would not hear of it. + +"I can't bear to think of you walking back all that way alone, +papa," objected Cosmo. + +"Ye dinna think, Cosmo," interposed Aggie, "'at I'm gauin to lat the +laird gang hame himlane, an' me here to be his body-gaird! I ken my +duty better nor that." + +But the laird did not go till they had all had tea together, and +the doctor had again come and gone, and given his decided opinion +that all Cosmo needed was a little rest, and that he would be quite +well in a day or two. Then at length his father left him, and, +comforted, set out with Aggie for Glenwarlock. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +DREAMS. + + +The gloamin' came down much sooner in Grannie's cottage than on the +sides of the eastward hills, but the old woman made up her little +fire, and it glowed a bright heart to the shadowy place. Though the +room was always dusky, it was never at this season quite dark any +time of the night. It was not absolutely needful, except for the +little cooking required by the invalid--for as such, in her pride +of being his nurse, Grannie regarded him--but she welcomed the +excuse for a little extra warmth to her old limbs during the night +watches. Then she sat down in her great chair, and all was still. + +"What for arena ye spinnin', Grannie?" said Cosmo. "I like fine to +hear the wheel singin' like a muckle flee upo' the winnock. It +spins i' my heid lang lingles o' thouchts, an' dreams, an' +wad-be's. Neist to hearin' yersel' tell a tale, I like to hear yer +wheel gauin'. It has a w'y o' 'ts ain wi' me!" + +"I was feart it micht vex ye wi' the soomin' o' 't," answered +Grannie, and as she spoke she rose, and lighted her little lamp, +though she scarcely needed light for her spinning, and sat down to +her wheel. + +For a long unweary time Cosmo lay and listened, an aerial Amphion, +building castles in the air to its music, which was so monotonous +that, like the drone of the bag-pipes, he could use it for +accompaniment to any dream-time of his own. + +When a man comes to trust in God thoroughly, he shrinks from +castle-building, lest his faintest fancy should run counter to that +loveliest Will; but a boy's dreams are nevertheless a part of his +education. And the true heart will not leave the blessed conscience +out, even in its dreams. + +Those of Cosmo were mostly of a lovely woman, much older than +himself, who was kind to him, and whom he obeyed and was ready to +serve like a slave. These came, of course, first of all, from the +heart that needed and delighted in the thought of a mother, but +they were bodied out from the memory, faint, far-off, and dim, of +his own mother, and the imaginations of her roused by his father's +many talks with him concerning her. He dreamed now of one, now of +another beneficent power, of the fire, the air, the earth, or the +water--each of them a gracious woman, who favoured, helped, and +protected him, through dangers and trials innumerable. Such +imaginings may be--nay must be unhealthy for those who will not +attempt the right in the face of loss and pain and shame; but to +those who labour in the direction of their own ideal, dreams will +do no hurt, but foster rather the ideal. + +When at length the spinning-wheel ceased with its hum, the silence +was to Cosmo like the silence after a song, and his thoughts +refused to do their humming alone. The same moment he fell--from a +wondrous region where he dwelt with sylphs in a great palace, built +on the tree-tops of a forest ages old; where the buxom air bathed +every limb, and was to his ethereal body as water--sensible as a +liquid; whose every room rocked like the baby's cradle of the +nursery rime, but equilibrium was the merest motion of the will; +where the birds nested in its cellars, and the squirrels ran up and +down its stairs, and the woodpeckers pulled themselves along its +columns and rails by their beaks; where the winds swung the whole +city with a rhythmic roll, and the sway as of tempest waves, +music-ruled to ordered cadences; where, far below, lower than the +cellars, the deer, and the mice, and the dormice, and the foxes, +and all the wild things of the forest, ran in its caves--from this +high city of the sylphs, watched and loved and taught by the most +gracious and graceful and tenderly ethereal and powerful of beings, +he fell supine into Grannie's box-bed, with the departed hum of her +wheel spinning out its last thread of sound in his disappointed +brain. + +In after years when he remembered the enchanting dreams of his +boyhood, instead of sighing after them as something gone for ever, +he would say to himself, "what matter they are gone? In the +heavenly kingdom my own mother is waiting me, fairer and stronger +and real. I imagined the elves; God imagined my mother." + +The unconscious magician of the whole mystery, who had seemed to +the boy to be spinning his very brain into dreams, rose, and, +drawing near the bed, as if to finish the ruthless destruction, and +with her long witch-broom sweep down the very cobwebs of his airy +phantasy, said, + +"Is ye waukin', Cosmo my bairn?" + +"Ay am I," answered Cosmo, with a faint pang, and a strange sense +of loss: when should he dream its like again! + +"Soon, soon, Cosmo," he might have heard, could he have interpreted +the telephonic signals from the depths of his own being; "wherever +the creative pneuma can enter, there it enters, and no door stands +so wide to it as that of the obedient heart." + +"Weel, ye maun hae yer supper, an' syne ye maun say yer prayers, +an' hae dune wi' Tyseday, an' gang on til' Wudens-day." + +"I'm nae wantin' ony supper, thank ye," said the boy. + +"Ye maun hae something, my bonny man; for them 'at aits ower +little, as weel's them 'at aits ower muckle, the night-mear +rides--an' she's a fearsome horse. Ye can never win upo' the back +o' her, for as guid a rider as ye're weel kent to be, my bairn. Sae +wull ye hae a drappy parritch an' ream? or wad ye prefar a sup of +fine gruel, sic as yer mother used to like weel frae my han', whan +it sae happent I was i' the hoose?" The offer seemed to the boy to +bring him a little nearer the mother whose memory he worshipped, +and on the point of saying, for the sake of saving her trouble, +that he would have the porridge, he chose the gruel. + +He watched from his nest the whole process of its making. It took a +time of its own, for one of the secrets of good gruel is a long +acquaintance with the fire.--Many a time the picture of that room +returned to him in far different circumstances, like a dream of +quiet and self-sustained delight--though his one companion was an +aged woman. + +When he had taken it, he fell asleep once more, and when he woke +again, it was in the middle of the night. The lamp was nearly +burned out: it had a long, red, disreputable nose, that spoke of +midnight hours and exhausted oil. The old lady was dozing in her +chair. The clock had just struck something, for the sound of its +bell was yet faintly pulsing in the air. He sat up, and looked out +into the room. Something seemed upon him--he could not tell what. +He felt as if something had been going on besides the striking of +the clock, and were not yet over--as if something was even now +being done in the room. But there the old woman slept, motionless, +and apparently in perfect calm! It could not, however, have been +perfect as it seemed, for presently she began to talk. At first +came only broken sentences, occasionally with a long pause; and +just as he had concluded she would say nothing more, she would +begin again. There was something awful to the fancy of the youth in +the issuing of words from the lips of one apparently unconscious of +surrounding things; her voice was like the voice of one speaking +from another world. Cosmo was a brave boy where duty was concerned, +but conscience and imagination were each able to make him tremble. +To tremble, and to turn the back, are, however, very different +things: of the latter, the thing deserving to be called cowardice, +Cosmo knew nothing; his hair began to rise upon his head, but that +head he never hid beneath the bed-clothes. He sat and stared into +the gloom, where the old woman lay in her huge chair, muttering at +irregular intervals. + +Presently she began to talk a little more continuously. And now +also Cosmo's heart had got a little quieter, and no longer making +such a noise in his ears, allowed him to hear better. After a few +words seemingly unconnected, though probably with a perfect +dependence of their own, she began to murmur something that sounded +like verses. Cosmo soon perceived that she was saying the same +thing over and over, and at length he had not only made out every +word of the few lines, but was able to remember them. This was what +he afterwards recalled--by that time uncertain whether the whole +thing had not been a dream: + +Catch yer naig an' pu' his tail: In his hin' heel ca' a nail; Rug +his lugs frae ane anither--Stan' up, an' ca' the king yer brither. + +When first he repeated them entire to himself, the old woman still +muttering them, he could not help laughing, and the noise, though +repressed, yet roused her. She woke, not, like most young people, +with slow gradation of consciousness, but all at once was wide +awake. She sat up in her chair. + +"Was I snorin', laddie,'at ye leuch?" she asked, in a tone of +slight offence. + +"Eh, na!" replied Cosmo. "It was only 'at ye was sayin' something +rale funny--i' yer sleep, ye ken--a queer jingle o' poetry it was." + +Therewith he repeated the rime, and Grannie burst into a merry +laugh--which however sobered rather suddenly. + +"I dinna won'er I was sayin' ower thae fule words," she said, "for +'deed I was dreamin' o' the only ane I ever h'ard say them, an' +that was whan I was a lass--maybe aboot thirty. Onybody nicht hae +h'ard him sayin' them--ower and ower til himsel', as gien he cudna +weary o' them, but naebody but mysel' seemed to hae ta'en ony +notice o' the same. I used whiles to won'er whether he fully +un'erstude what he was sayin'--but troth! hoo cud there be ony +sense in sic havers?" + +"Was there ony mair o' the ballant?" asked Cosmo. + +"Gien there was mair; I h'ard na't," replied Grannie. "An' weel I +wat! he was na ane to sing, the auld captain.--Did ye never hear +tell o' 'im, laddie?" + +"Gien ye mean the auld brither o' the laird o' that time, him 'at +cam hame frae his sea-farin' to the East Indies--" + +"Ay, ay; that's him! Ye hae h'ard tell o' 'im! He hed a ship o' 's +ain, an' made mony a voyage afore ony o' 's was born, an' was an +auld man whan at len'th hame cam he, as the sang says--ower auld to +haud by the sea ony more. I'll never forget the luik o' the man +whan first I saw him, nor the hurry an' the scurry, the rinnin' +here, an' the routin' there,'at there was whan the face o' 'm came +in at the gett! Ye see they a' thoucht he was hame wi' a walth +ayont figures--stowed awa' somewhaur--naebody kent whaur. Eh, but +he was no a bonny man, an' fowk said he dee'd na a fairstrae deith: +hoo that may be, I dinna weel ken: there WAR unco things aboot the +affair--things 'at winna weel bide speykin' o'. Ae thing's certain, +an' that is,'at the place has never thriven sin syne. But, for that +maitter, it hedna thriven for mony a lang afore. An' there was a +fowth o' awfu' stories reengin' the country, like ghaists 'at +naebody cud get a grip o'--as to hoo he had gotten the said siller, +an' sic like--the siller 'at naebody ever saw; for upo' that +siller, as I tell ye, naebody ever cuist an e'e. Some said he had +been a pirate upo' the hie seas, an' had ta'en the siller in lumps +o' gowd frae puir ships 'at hadna men eneuch to haud the grip o' +'t; some said he had been a privateer; an' ither some said there +was sma' differ atween the twa. An' some wad hae't he was ane o' +them 'at tuik an' sauld the puir black fowk,'at cudna help bein' +black, for as ootlandish as it maun luik--I never saw nane o' the +nation mysel'--ony mair nor a corbie can help his feathers no bein' +like a doo's; an' gien they turnt black for ony deevilry o' them +'at was their forbeirs, I kenna an' it maks naething to me or mine, +--I wad fain an' far raither du them a guid turn nor tak an' sell +them; for gien their parents had sinned, the mair war they to be +pitied. But as I was sayin', naebody kent hoo he had gethert his +siller, the mair by token 'at maybe there was nane, for naebody, as +I was tellin' ye, ever had the sma'est glimp o' siller aboot 'im. +For a close-loofed near kin o' man he was, gien ever ony! Aye ready +was he to borrow a shillin' frae ony fule 'at wad len' him ane, an' +lang had him 'at len't it forgotten to luik for 't, er' he thoucht +o' peyin' the same. It was mair nor ae year or twa 'at he leeved +aboot the place, an' naebody cared muckle for his company, though +a' body was ower feart to lat him ken he was na welcome here or +there; for wha cud tell he micht oot wi' the swoord he aye carriet, +an' mak an' en' o' 'im! For 'deed he fearna God nor man, ony mair +nor the jeedge i' the Scriptur'. He drank a heap--as for a' body at +he ca'd upo' aye hed oot the whisky-bottle well willun' to please +the man they war feart at." + +The voice of the old woman went sounding in the ears of the boy, on +and on in the gloom, and through it, possibly from the still +confused condition of his head, he kept constantly hearing the +rimes she had repeated to him. They seemed to have laid hold of him +as of her, perhaps from their very foolishness, in an odd +inexplicable way:-- + +Catch yer naig an' pu' his tail; In his hin' heel ca' a nail; +Rug his lugs frae ane anither--Stan' up, an' ca' the king yer +brither. + +On and on went the rime, and on and on went the old woman's voice. + +"Weel, there cam' a time whan an English lord begud to be seen +aboot the place, an' that was nae comon sicht i' oor puir country. +He was a frien' fowk said, o' the yoong Markis o' Lossie, an' that +was hoo 'he cam to sicht. He gaed fleein' aboot, luikin' at this, +an' luikin' at that; an' whaur or hoo he fell in wi' HIM, I dinna +ken, but or lang the twa o' them was a heap thegither. They playt +cairts thegither, they drank thegither, they drave oot +thegither--for the auld captain never crossed beast's back--an' +what made sic frien's o' them nobody could imaigine. For the tane +was a rouch sailor chield, an' the tither was a yoong lad, little +mair, an' a fine gentleman as weel's a bonny man. But the upshot o' +'t a' was an ill ane; for, efter maybe aboot a month or sae o' sic +friendship as was atween them, there cam a nicht 'at brouchtna the +captain hame; for ye maun un'erstan', wi' a' his rouch w'ys, an' +his drinkin', an' his cairt-playin', he was aye hame at nicht, an' +safe intil's bed, whaur he sleepit i' the best chaumer i' the +castle. Ay, he wad come hame, aften as drunk as man cud be, but +hame he cam. Sleep intil the efternune o' the neist day he wad, but +never oot o' 's nain bed--or if no aye in his ain nakit BED, for I +fan' him ance mysel' lyin' snorin' upo' the flure, it was aye intil +'s ain room, as I say, an' no in ony strange place drunk or sober. +Sae there was some surprise at his no appearin', an' fowk spak o' +'t, but no that muckle, for naebody cared i' their hert what cam o' +the man. Still whan the men gaed oot to their wark, they bude to +gie a luik gien there was ony sign o' 'm. It was easy to think 'at +he micht hae been at last ower sair owertaen to be able to win +hame. But that wasna it, though whan they cam upo' 'm lyin' on's +back i' the howe yon'er 'at luiks up to my daughter's bit gerse for +her coo', they thoucht he bude to hae sleepit there a' nicht. Sae +he had, but it was the sleep 'at kens no waukin--at least no the +kin' o' waukin' 'at comes wi' the mornin'!" + +Cosmo recognized with a shudder his favourite spot, where on his +birthday, as on many a day before, he had fallen asleep. But the +old woman went on with her story. + +"Deid was the auld captain--as deid as ever was man 'at had nane +left to greit for him. But thof there was nae greitin', no but sic +a hullabaloo as rase upo' the discovery! They rade an' they ran; +the doctor cam', an' the minister, an' the lawyer, an' the +grave-digger. But whan a man's deid, what can a' the warl' du for +'im but berry 'im? puir hin'er en' thof it be to him' at draws +himsel' up, an' blaws himsel' oot! There was mony a conjectur as to +hoo he cam by his deith, an' mony a doobt it wasna by fair play. +Some said he dee'd by his ain han', driven on til't by the enemy; +an' it was true the blade he cairriet was lyin' upo' the grass +aside 'im; but ither some 'at exem't him, said the hole i' the side +o' 'im was na made wi' that. But o' a' 'at cam to speir efter 'im, +the English lord was nane. He hed vainished the country. The +general opinyon sattled doon to this,'at they twa bude till hae +fa'en oot at cairts, an' fouchten it oot, an' the auld captain, for +a' his skeel an' exparience, had had the warst o' 't, an' so there +they faun' 'im.--But I reckon, Cosmo, yer father 'ill hae tellt ye +a' aboot the thing, mony's the time, or noo, an' I'm jist deivin' +ye wi' my clavers, an haudin 'ye ohn sleepit!" + +"Na, Grannie," answered Cosmo, "he never tellt me what ye hae tellt +me noo. He did tell me 'at there was sic a man, an' the ill en' he +cam til; an' I think he was jist gaein' on to tell me mair, whan +Grizzie cam to say the denner was ready. That was only +yesterday--or the day afore, I'm thinkin', by this time.--But what +think ye could hae been in's heid wi' yon jingle aboot the horsie?" + +"Ow! what wad be intil't but jist fulish nonsense? Ye ken some fowk +has a queer trick o' sayin' the same thing ower an' ower again to +themsel's, wi'oot ony sense intil't. There was the auld laird +himsel'; he was ane o' sic. Aye an' ower again he wad be sayin' til +himsel','A hun'er poun'! Ay, a hun'er poun'!' It maittered na what +he wad be speikin' aboot, or wha til, in it wad come!--i' the +middle o' onything, ye cudna tell whan or whaur,--'A hun'er poun'!' +says he;'Ay, a hun'er poun'!' Fowk leuch at the first, but sune gat +used til't, an' cam hardly to ken 'at he said it, for what has nae +sense has little hearin'. An' I doobtna thae rimes wasna even a +verse o' an auld ballant, but jist a cletter o' clinkin' styte +(_nonsense_),'at he had learnt frae some blackamore bairn, maybe, an' +cudna get oot o' 's heid ony ither gait, but bude to say't to hae dune +wi' 't--jist like a cat whan it gangs scrattin' at the door, ye hae to +get up, whether ye wull or no, an' lat the cratur oot." + +Cosmo did not feel quite satisfied with the explanation, but he +made no objection to it. + +"I maun alloo, hooever," the old woman went on, "'at ance ye get a +haud o' THEM, they tak a grip o' YOU, an' hae a queer w'y o' +hauntin' ye like, as they did the man himsel', sae 'at ye canna yet +rid o' them. It comes only at noos an' thans, but whan the fit's +upo' me, I canna get them oot o' my heid. The verse gangs on +tum'lin' ower an' ower intil 't, till I'm jist scunnert wi' 't. +Awa' it wanna gang, maybe for a haill day, an' syne it mayna come +again for months." + +True enough, the rime was already running about in Cosmo's head +like a mouse, and he fell asleep with it ringing in the ears of his +mind. + +Before he woke again, which was in the broad daylight, he had a +curious dream. + +He dreamed that he was out in the moonlight. It was a summer +night--late. But there was something very strange about the night: +right up in the top of it was the moon, looking down as if she knew +all about it, and something was going to happen. He did not like +the look of her--he had never seen her look like that before! and +he went home just to get away from her. As he was going up the +stairs to his chamber, something moved him--he could not tell +what--to stop at the door of the drawing-room, and go in. It was +flooded with moonlight, but he did not mind that, so long as he +could keep out of her sight. Still it had a strange, eerie look, +with its various pieces of furniture casting different shadows from +those that by rights belonged to them. He gazed at this thing and +that, as if he had never seen it before. The place seemed to cast a +spell over him, so that he could not leave it. He seated himself on +the ancient brocaded couch, and sat staring, with a sense, which by +degrees grew dreadful, that he was where he would not be, and that +if he did not get up and go, something would happen. But he could +not rise--not that he felt any physical impediment, but that he +could not make a resolve strong enough--like one in irksome +company, who wants to leave, but waits in vain a fit opportunity. +Delay grew to agony, but still he sat. + +He became aware that he was not alone. His whole skin seemed to +contract with a shuddering sense of presence. Gradually, as he +gazed straight in front of him, slowly, in the chair on the +opposite side of the fire-place, grew visible the form of a man, +until he saw it quite plainly--that of a seafaring man, in a blue +coat, with a red sash round his waist, in which were pistols, and a +dagger. He too sat motionless, fixing on him the stare of fierce +eyes, black, yet glowing, as if set on fire of hell. They filled +him with fear, but something seemed to sustain him under it. He +almost fancied, when first on waking he thought over it, that a +third must have been in the room--for his protection. The face that +stared at him was a brown and red and weather--beaten face, cut +across with a great scar, and wearing an expression of horror +trying not to look horrible. His fear threatened to turn him into +clay, but he met it with scorn, strove against it, would not and +did not yield. Still the figure stared, as if it would fascinate +him into limpest submission. Slowly at length it rose, and with a +look that seemed meant to rivet the foregone stare--a look of +mingled pain and fierceness, turned, and led the way from the room, +whereupon the spell was so far broken or changed, that he was able +to rise and follow him: even in his dreams he was a boy of courage, +and feared nothing so much as yielding to fear. The figure went on, +nor ever turned its head, up the stair to the room over that they +had left--the best bedroom, the guest-chamber of the house--not +often visited, and there it entered. Still following, Cosmo entered +also. The figure walked across the room, as if making for the bed, +but in the middle of the floor suddenly turned, and went round by +the foot of the bed to the other side of it, where the curtains hid +it. Cosmo followed, but when he reached the other side, the shade +was nowhere to be seen, and he woke, his heart beating terribly. + +By this time Grannie was snoring in her chair, or very likely, in +his desire to emerge from its atmosphere, he would have told her +his dream. For a while he lay looking at the dying fire, and the +streak from the setting moon, that stole in at the window, and lay +weary at the foot of the wall. Slowly he fell fast asleep, and +slept far into the morning: long after lessons were begun in the +school, and village-affairs were in the full swing of their daily +routine, he slept; nor had he finished his breakfast, when his +father entered. + +"I'm quite well, papa," answered the boy to his gentle yet eager +inquiry;--"perfectly able to go to school in the afternoon." + +"I don't mean you to go again, Cosmo," replied his father gravely. +"It could not be pleasant either for yourself or for the master. +The proper relation between you is destroyed." + +[Illustration: COSMO'S DREAM.] + +"If you think I was wrong, papa, I will make an apology." + +"If you had done it for yourself, I should unhesitatingly say you +must. But as it was, I am not prepared to say so." + +"What am I to do then? How am I to get ready for college?" + +The laird gave a sigh, and made no answer. Alas! there were more +difficulties than that in the path to college. + +He turned away, and went to call on the minister, while Cosmo got +up and dressed: except a little singing in his head when he +stooped, he was aware of no consequences of the double blow. + +Grannie was again at her wheel, and Cosmo sat down in her chair to +await his father's return. + +"Whaur said ye the captain sleepit whan he was at the castle?" he +inquired across the buzz and whiz and hum of the wheel. Through the +low window, betwixt the leaves of the many plants that shaded it, +he could see the sun shining hot upon the bare street; but inside +was soft gloom filled with murmurous sound. + +"Whaur but i' the best bedroom?" answered Grannie. "Naething less +wad hae pleased HIM, I can assure ye. For ance 'at there cam the +markis to the hoose--whan things warna freely sae scant aboot the +place as they hae been sin' yer father cam to the throne--there cam +at his back a fearsome storm, sic as comes but seldom in a life +lang as mine, an' sic 'at his lordship cudna win awa'. Thereupon +yer father, that is, yer gran'father,--or it wad be yer +grit-gran'father--I'm turnin' some confused amo' ye: ye aye keep +comin'!--onyhoo, he gae the captain a kent like,'at he wad du weel +to offer his room til's lordship. But wad he, think ye? Na, no him! +He grew reid, an' syne as white's the aisse, an' luikit to be i' +the awfu'est inside rage 'at mortal wessel cud weel hand. Sae yer +gran'father, no 'at he was feart at 'im, for Is' be bun' he never +was feart afore the face o' man, but jest no wullin' to anger his +ain kin, an' maybe no willin' onybody sud say he was a respecter o' +persons, heeld his tongue an' said nae mair, an' the markis hed the +second best bed, for he sleepit in Glenwarlock's ain." + +Cosmo then told her the dream he had had in the night, describing +the person he had seen in it as closely as he could. Now all the +time Grannie had been speaking, it was to the accompaniment of her +wheel, but Cosmo had not got far with his narrative when she ceased +spinning, and sat absorbed--listening as to a real occurrence, not +the feverish dream of a boy. When he ended, + +"It maun hae been the auld captain himself!" she said under her +breath, and with a sigh; then shut up her mouth, and remained +silent, leaving Cosmo in doubt whether it was that she would take +no interest in such a foolish thing, or found in it something to +set her thinking; but he could not help noting that there seemed a +strangeness about her silence; nor did she break it until his +father returned. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HOME. + + +Cosmo was not particularly fond of school, and he was particularly +fond of holidays; hence his father's resolve that he should go to +school no more, seemed to him the promise of an endless joy. The +very sun seemed swelling in his heart as he walked home with his +father. A whole day of home and its pleasures was before him--only +the more welcome that he had had a holiday so lately, and that so +many more lay behind it. Every shadow about the old place was a +delight to him. Never human being loved more the things into which +he had been born than did Cosmo. The whole surrounding had to him a +sacred look, such as Jerusalem, the temple, and its vessels, bore +to the Jews, even those of them who were capable of loving little +else. There was hardly anything that could be called beauty about +the building--strength and gloom were its main characteristics--but +its very stones were dear to the boy. There never were such bees, +there never were such thick walls, there never were such storms, +never such a rushing river, as those about his beloved home! And +this although, all the time, as I have said, he longed for more +beauty of mountain and wood than the country around could afford +him. Then there were the books belonging to the house!--was there +any such a collection in the world besides! They were in truth very +few--all contained in a closet opening out of his father's bedroom; +but Cosmo had a feeling of inexhaustible wealth in them--partly +because his father had not yet allowed him to read everything +there, but restricted him to certain of the shelves--as much to +cultivate self-restraint in him as to keep one or two of the books +from him,--partly because he read books so that they remained books +to him, and he believed in them after he had read them, nor +imagined himself capable of exhausting them. But the range of his +taste was certainly not a limited one. While he revelled in The +Arabian Nights, he read also, and with no small enjoyment, the +Night Thoughts--books, it will be confessed, considerably apart +both in scope and in style. But while thus, for purest pleasure, +fond of reading, to enjoy life it was to him enough to lie in the +grass; in certain moods, the smell of the commonest flower would +drive him half crazy with delight. On a holiday his head would be +haunted with old ballads like a sunflower with bees: on other days +they would only come and go. He rejoiced even in nursery rimes, +only in his head somehow or other they got glorified. The swing and +hum and BIZZ of a line, one that might have to him no discoverable +meaning, would play its tune in him as well as any mountain-stream +its infinite water-jumble melody. One of those that this day +kept--not coming and going, but coming and coming, just as Grannie +said his foolish rime haunted the old captain, was that which two +days before came into his head when first he caught sight of the +moon playing bo-peep with him betwixt the cows legs: + +Whan the coo loups ower the mune, The reid gowd rains intil men's +shune. + +I think there must at one time have been a poet in the Glenwarlock +nursery, for there were rimes, and modifications of rimes, floating +about the family, for which nobody could account. Cosmo's mother +too had been, in a fragmentary way, fond of verse; and although he +could not remember many of her favourite rimes, his father did, and +delighted in saying them over and over to her child--and that long +before he was capable of understanding them. Here is one: + +Make not of thy heart a casket, Opening seldom, quick to close; But +of bread a wide-mouthed basket, And a cup that overflows. + +Here is another: + +The gadfly makes the horse run swift: "Speed," quoth the gadfly, +"is my gift." + +One more, and it shall be the last for the present: They serve as +dim lights on the all but vanished mother, of whom the boy himself +knew so little. + +In God alone, the perfect end, Wilt thou find thyself or friend. +Cosmo's dream of life was, to live all his days in the house of his +forefathers--or at least and worst, to return to it at last, how +long soever he might have been compelled to be away from it. In his +castle-building, next to that of the fairy-mother-lady, his +fondest fancy was--not the making of a fortune, but the returning +home with one, to make the house of his fathers beautiful, and the +heart of his father glad. About the land he did not think so much +yet: the country was open to him as if it had been all his own. +Still, he had quite a different feeling for that portion which yet +lay within the sorely contracted marches; to have seen any smallest +nook of that sold, would have been like to break his heart. In him +the love of place was in danger of becoming a disease. There was in +it something, I fear, of the nature, if not of the avarice that +grasps, yet of the avarice that clings. He was generous as few in +the matter of money, but then he had had so little--not half enough +to learn to love it! Nor had he the slightest idea of any mode in +which to make it. Most of the methods he had come in contact with, +except that of manual labour, in which work was done and money paid +immediately for it, repelled him, as having elements of the +unhandsome where not the dishonest: he was not yet able to +distinguish between substance and mode in such matters. The only +way in which he ever dreamed of coming into possession of money--it +was another of his favourite castles--was finding in the old house +a room he had never seen or heard of before, and therein a hoard of +riches incredible. Such things had been--why might it not be? + +As they walked, his father told him he had been thinking all night +what it would be best to do with him, now that the school was +closed against him; and that he had come to the conclusion to ask +his friend Peter Simon--the wits of the neighbourhood called him +Simon Peter--to take charge of his education. + +"He is a man of peculiar opinions," he said, "as I daresay you may +have heard; but everything in him is, practice and theory, on a +scale so grand, that to fear harm from him would be to sin against +the truth. A man must learn to judge for himself, and he will teach +you that. I have seen in him so much that I recognize as good and +great, that I am compelled to believe in him where the things he +believes appear to me out of the way, or even extravagant." + +"I have heard that he believes in ghosts, papa!" said Cosmo. + +His father smiled, and made him no answer. He had been born into an +age whose incredulity, taking active form, was now fast approaching +its extreme, and becoming superstition; and the denial of many +things that had long been believed in the country had penetrated at +last even to the remote region where his property lay: like that +property, his mind, because of the age, lay also in a sort of +border-land, An active believer in the care and providence of God, +with no conscious difficulty in accepting any miracle recorded in +the Bible, he was, where the oracles were dumb, in a measure +inclined to a scepticism, which yet was limited to the region of +his intellect;--his imagination turned from its conclusions, and +cherished not a little so-called weakness for the so-called +supernatural--so far as any glimmer of sense or meaning or reason +would show itself therein. And in the history of the world, the +imagination has, I fancy, been quite as often right as the +intellect, and the things in which it has been right, have been of +much the greater importance. Only, unhappily, wherever Pegasus has +shown the way through a bog the pack-horse which follows gets the +praise of crossing it; while the blunders with which the pack-horse +is burdened, are, the moment each is discovered, by the plodding +leaders of the pair transferred to the space betwixt the wings of +Pegasus, without regard to the beauty of his feathers. The laird +was therefore unable to speak with authority respecting such +things, and was not particularly anxious to influence the mind of +his son concerning them. Happily, in those days the platitudes and +weary vulgarities of what they call SPIRITUALISM, had not been +heard of in those quarters, and the soft light of imagination yet +lingered about the borders of that wide region of mingled false and +true, commonly called Superstition. It seems to me the most killing +poison to the imagination must be a strong course of "spiritualism." +For myself, I am not so set upon entering the unknown, as, +instead of encouraging what holy visitations faith, not in the +spiritual or the immortal, but in the living God, may bring, to +creep through the sewers of it to get in. I care not to encounter +its mud-larkes, and lovers of garbage, its thieves, impostors, +liars, and canaille, in general. That they are on the other side, +that they are what men call dead, does not seem to me sufficient +reason for taking them into my confidence, courting their company, +asking their advice. A well-attested old-fashion ghost story, where +such is to be had, is worth a thousand seances. + +"Do YOU believe in ghosts, papa?" resumed Cosmo, noting his +father's silence, and remembering that he had never heard him utter +an opinion on the subject. + +"The master says none but fools believe in them now; and he makes +such a face at anything he calls superstition, that you would think +it must be somewhere in the commandments." + +"Mr. Simon remarked the other day in my hearing," answered his +father, "that the dread of superstition might amount to +superstition, and become the most dangerous superstition of all." + +"Do you think so, papa?" + +"I could well believe it. Besides, I have always found Mr. Simon so +reasonable, even where I could not follow him, that I am prejudiced +in favor of anything he thinks." + +The boy rejoiced to hear his father talk thus, for he, had a strong +leaning to the marvellous, and hitherto, from the schoolmaster's +assertion and his father's silence, had supposed nothing was to be +accepted for belief but what was scientifically probable, or was +told in the bible. That we live in a universe of marvels of which +we know only the outsides,--and which we turn into the incredible +by taking the mere outsides for all, even while we know the roots +of the seen remain unseen--these spiritual facts now began to dawn +upon him, and fell in most naturally with those his mind had +already conceived and entertained. He was therefore delighted at +the thought of making the closer acquaintance of a man like Mr. +Simon--a man of whose peculiarities even, his father could speak in +such terms. All day long he brooded on the prospect, and in the +twilight went out wandering over the hills. + +There was no night there at this season, any more than all the year +through in heaven. Indeed we have seldom real positive night in +this world--so many provisions have been made against it. Every +time we say, "What a lovely night!" we speak of a breach, a rift in +the old night. There is light more or less, positive light, else +were there no beauty. Many a night is but a low starry day, a day +with a softened background against which the far-off suns of +millions of other days show themselves: when the near vision +vanishes the farther hope awakes. It is nowhere said of heaven, +there shall be no twilight there, + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE STUDENT. + + +The twilight had not yet reached the depth of its mysteriousness, +when Cosmo, returning home from casting a large loop of wandering +over several hills, walked up to James Gracie's cottage, thinking +whether they would not all be in bed. + +But as he passed the window, he saw a little light, and went on to +the door and knocked: had it been the daytime, he would have gone +straight in. Agnes came, and opened cautiously, for there were +occasionally such beings as tramps about. + +"Eh! it's you?" she cried with a glad voice, when she saw the shape +of Cosmo in the dimness. "There's naething wrang I houp," she +added, changing her tone. + +"Na, naething," answered Cosmo. "I only wantit to lat ye ken 'at I +wasna gaein' back to the schuil ony mair." + +"Weel, I dinna won'er at that!" returned Agnes with a little sigh. +"Efter the w'y the maister behaved til ye, the laird cud ill lat ye +gang there again. But what's he gaein' to du wi' ye, Maister Cosmo, +gien a body micht speir 'at has nae richt to be keerious?" + +"He's sen'in' me to maister Simon," answered Cosmo. + +"I wuss I was gaein' tu," sighed Aggie. "I'm jist feart 'at I come +to hate the maister efter ye're no to be seen there, Cosmo. An' we +maunna hate, for that, ye ken,'s the hin 'er en' o' a' thing. But +it wad be a heap easier no to hate him, gien I had naething tu du +wi' him." + +"That maun be confest," answered Cosmo.--"But," he added, "the +hairst-play 'ill be here sune, an' syne the hairst itsel'; an' whan +ye gang back ye'll hae won ower't." + +"Na, I doobt no," Cosmo; for, ye sae, as I hae h'ard my father say, +the Gracies are a' terrible for min'in'. Na, there's no forgettin' +o' naething. What for sud onything be forgotten? It's a cooardly +kin' o' a' w'y, to forget." + +"Some things, I doobt, hae to be forgotten," returned Cosmo, +thoughtfully. "Gien ye forgie a body for enstance, ye maun forget +tu--no sae muckle, I'm thinkin', for the sake o' them 'at did ye +the wrang, for wha wad tak up again a fool (foul) thing ance it was +drappit?--but for yer ain sake; for what ye hae dune richt, my +father says, maun be forgotten oot 'o sight for fear o' corruption, +for naething comes to stink waur nor a guid deed hung up i' the +munelicht o' the memory. + +"Eh!" exclaimed Aggie, "but ye're unco wice for a lad o' yer +'ears." + +"I wad be an nuco gowk," remarked Cosmo, "gien I kent naething, wi' +sic a father as yon o' mine. What wad ye think o' yersel' gien the +dochter o' Jeames Gracie war nae mair wice-like nor Meg Scroggie?" + +Agnes laughed, but made no reply, for the voice of her mother came +out of the dark: + +"Wha's that, Aggie, ye're haudin' sic a confab wi' in the middle o' +the night? Ye tellt me ye had to sit up to yer lessons!" + +"I was busy at them, mither, whan Maister Cosmo chappit at the +door." + +"Weel, what for lat ye him stan' there? Ye may hae yer crack wi' +HIM as lang's ye like--in rizzon, that is. Gar him come in." + +"Na, na, mistress Gracie," answered Cosmo; "I maun awa' hame; I hae +had a gey long walk. It's no 'at I'm tired, but I'm gey and sleepy. +Only I was sae pleased 'at I was gaein' to learn my lessons wi' +Maister Simon,'at I bude to tell Aggie. She micht ha' been +won'erin', an' thinkin' I wasna better, gien she hadna seen me at +the schuil the morn." + +"Is' warran' her ohn gane to the schuil ohn speirt in at the Castle +the first thing i' the mornin', an' seein' gien the laird had ony +eeran' to the toon. Little cares she for the maister, gien onybody +at the Hoose be in want o' her!" + +"Is there naething I cud help ye wi', Aggie, afore I gang?" asked +Cosmo. "Somebody tellt me ye was tryin' yer han' at algebra." + +"Naebody had ony business to tell ye ony sic a thing," returned +Aggie, rather angrily. "It's no at the schuil I wad think o' sic a +ploy. They wad a' lauch fine! But I WAD fain ken what's intil the +thing. I canNOT un'erstan' hoo fowk can coont wi' letters an' +crosses an' strokes in place o' figgers. I hae been at it a +haillook noo--by mysel', ye ken--an' I'm nane nearer til 't yet. I +can add an' subtrac', accordin' to the rules gien, but that's no +un'erstan'in', an' un'erstan' I canna." + +"I'm thinkin' it's something as gien x was a horse, an' y was a +coo, an' z was a cairt, or onything ither ye micht hae to ca' 't; +an' ye bargain awa' aboot the x an' the y and the z, an' ley the +horse i' the stable, the coo i' the byre, an' the cairt i' the +shed, till ye hae sattlet a'." + +"But ye ken aboot algebra"--she pronounced the word with the accent +on the second syllable--"divna ye, maister Cosmo?" + +"Na, no the haif, nor the hun'ert pairt. I only ken eneuch to haud +me gaein' on to mair. A body maun hae learnt a heap o' onything +afore the licht breaks oot o' 't. Ye maun win throuw the wa' first. +I doobt gien onybody un'erstan's a thing oot an' oot, sae lang's +he's no ready at a moment's notice to gar anither see intil the +hert o' 't; an' I canna gar ye see what's intil 't the minute ye +speir't at me!" + +"I'm thinkin', hooever, Cosmo, a body maun be nearhan' seein' o' +himsel' afore anither can lat him see onything." + +"Ye may be richt there," yielded Cosmo."--But jist lat me see whaur +ye are," he went on. "I may be able to help ye, though I canna lat +ye see a' at once. It wad be an ill job for them 'at needs help, +gien naebody could help them but them 'at kent a' aboot a thing." + +[Illustration: no title] + +Without a word, Aggie turned and led the way to the "but-end." An +iron lamp, burning the coarsest of train oil, hung against the +wall, and under that she had placed the one movable table in the +kitchen, which was white as scouring could make it. Upon it lay a +slate and a book of algebra. + +"My cousin Willie lent me the buik," said Aggie. + +"What for didna ye come to me to len'ye ane? I could hae gien ye a +better nor that," expostulated Cosmo. + +Aggie hesitated, but, open as the day, she did not hesitate long. +She turned her face from him, and answered, + +"I wantit to gie ye a surprise, Maister Cosmo. Divna ye min' +tellin' me ance 'at ye saw no rizzon hoo a lassie sudna un'erstan' +jist as weel's a laddie. I wantit to see whether ye was richt or +wrang; an' as algebra luiket the maist oonlikly thing, I thoucht I +wad taikle that, an' sae sattle the queston at ance. But, eh me! +I'm sair feart ye was i' the wrang, Cosmo!" + +"I maun du my best to pruv mysel' i' the richt," returned Cosmo. "I +never said onybody cud learn a' o' themsel's, wantin' help, ye ken. +There's nae mony laddies cud du that, an' feower still wad try." + +They sat down together at the table, and in half an hour or so, +Aggie had begun to see the faint light of at least the false dawn, +as they call it, through the thickets of algebra. It was nearly +midnight when Cosmo rose, and then Aggie would not let him go +alone, but insisted on accompanying him to the gate of the court. + +It was a curious relation between the two. While Agnes looked up to +Cosmo, about two years her junior, as immeasurably her superior in +all that pertained to the intellect and its range, she assumed over +him a sort of general human superiority, something like that a +mother will assert over the most gifted of sons. One has seen, with +a kind of sacred amusement, the high priest of many literary and +artistic circles, set down with rebuke by his mother, as if he had +been still a boy! And I have heard the children of this world speak +with like superiority of the child of light whom they +loved--allowing him wondrous good, but regarding him as a kind of +God's chicken: nothing is so mysterious to the children of this +world as the ways of the children of light, though to themselves +they seem simple enough. That Agnes never treated Cosmo with this +degree of protective condescension, arose from the fact that she +was very nearly as much a child of light as he; only, being a +woman, she was keener of perception, and being older, felt the more +of the mother that every woman feels, and made the most of it. It +was to her therefore a merely natural thing to act his protector. +Indeed with respect to the Warlock family in general, she counted +herself possessed of the right to serve any one of them to the last +drop of her blood. From infancy she had heard the laird spoken +of--without definite distinction between the present and the +last--as the noblest, best, and kindest of men, as the power which +had been for generations over the family of the Gracies, for their +help and healing; and hence it was impressed upon her deepest +consciousness, that one of the main reasons of her existence was +her relation to the family of Glenwarlock. + +Notwithstanding the familiarity I have shown between them--Agnes +had but lately begun to put the MASTER before Cosmo's name, and as +often forgot it--the girl, as they went towards the castle, +although they were walking in deep dusk, and entirely alone, kept a +little behind the boy--not behind his back, but on his left hand in +the next rank. No spy most curious could have detected the least +love-making between them, and their talk, in the still, dark air, +sounded loud all the way as they went. Strange talk it would have +been counted by many, and indeed unintelligible, for it ranged over +a vast surface, and was the talk of two wise children, wise not +above their own years only, but immeasurably above those of the +prudent. Riches indubitably favour stupidity; poverty, where the +heart is right, favours mental and moral development. They parted +at the gate, and Cosmo went to bed. + +But, although his father allowed him such plentiful liberty, and +would fain have the boy feel the night holy as the day--so that no +one ever asked where he had been, or at what hour he had come +home--a question which, having no watch, he would have found it +hard to answer--not an eye was closed in the house until his +entering footsteps were heard. The grandmother lay angry at the +unheard of liberty her son gave his son; it was neither decent nor +in order; it was against all ancient rule of family life; she must +speak about it! But she never did speak about it, for she was now +in her turn afraid of the son who, without a particle of obstinacy +in his composition, yet took what she called his own way. Grizzie +kept grumbling to herself that the laddie was sure to come to +"mischief;" but the main forms of "mischief" that ruled in her +imagination were tramps, precipices, and spates. The laird, for his +part, spent most of the time his son's absence kept him awake, in +praying for him--not that he might be the restorer of the family, +but that he might be able to accept the will of God as the best +thing for family as for individual. If his boy might but reach the +spirit-land unsoiled and noble, his prayers were ended. + +In such experiences, the laird learned to understand how the +catholics come to pray to their saints, and the Chinese to their +parents and ancestors; for he frequently found himself, more +especially as drowsiness began to steal upon his praying soul, +seeming to hold council with his wife concerning their boy, and +asking her help towards such strength for him as human beings may +minister to each other. + +But Cosmo went up to bed without a suspicion that the air around +him was full of such holy messengers heavenward for his sake. He +imagined none anxious about him--either with the anxiety of +grandmother or of servant-friend or of great-hearted father. + +As he passed the door of the spare room, immediately above which +was his own, his dream, preceded by a cold shiver, came to his +memory. But he scorned to quicken his pace, or to glance over his +shoulder, as he ascended the second stair. Without any need of a +candle, in the still faint twilight which is the ghosts' day, he +threw off his clothes, and was presently buried in the grave of his +bed, under the sod of the blankets, lapt in the death of sleep. + +The moment he woke, he jumped out of bed: a new era in his life was +at hand, the thought of which had been subjacently present in his +dreams, and was operative the instant he became conscious of waking +life. He hurried on his clothes without care, for this dressing was +but temporary. Going down the stairs like a cataract, for not a +soul slept in that part but himself, and there was no fear of +waking any one, then in like manner down the hill, he reached the +place where, with a final dart, the torrent shot into the quiet +stream of the valley, in whose channel of rock and gravel it had +hollowed a deep basin. This was Cosmo's bath--and a splendid one. +His clothes were off again more quickly than he put them on, and +head foremost he shot like the torrent into the boiling mass, where +for a few moments he yielded himself the sport of the frothy water, +and was tossed and tumbled about like a dead thing. Soon however, +down in the heart of the boil, he struck out, and shooting from +under the fall, rose to the surface beyond it, panting and blowing. +To get out on the bank was then the work of one moment, and to +plunge in again that of the next. Half a dozen times, with scarce a +pause between, he thus plunged, was tossed and overwhelmed, +struggled, escaped, and plunged again. Then he ran for a few +moments up and down the bank to dry himself--he counted the use of +a towel effeminacy, and dressing again, ran home to finish his +simple toilet. If after that he read a chapter of his Bible, it was +no more than was required by many a parent of many a boy who got +little good of the task; but Cosmo's father had never enjoined it, +on him; and when next he knelt down at his bedside, he did not +merely "say his prayers." Then he took his slate, to try after +something Aggie had made him know he did not understand:--for the +finding of our own intellectual defects, nothing is like trying to +teach another. But before long, certain sensations began, to warn +him there was an invention in the world called breakfast, and +laying his slate aside, he went to the kitchen, where he found +Grizzie making the porridge. + +"Min' ye pit saut eneuch in't the day, Grizzie," he said. "It was +unco wersh yesterday." + +"An' what was't like thestreen (yestere'en), Cosmo?" asked the old +woman, irritated at being found fault with in a matter wherein she +counted herself as near perfection as ever mortal could come. + +"I had nane last nicht, ye min'," answered Cosmo, "I was oot a' the +evenin'." + +"An' whaur got ye yer supper?" + +"Ow, I didna want nane. Hoot! I'm forgettin'! Aggie gied me a +quarter o' breid as I cam by, or rather as I cam awa', efter giein' +her a han' wi' her algebra." + +"What ca' ye that for a lass bairn to be takin' up her time wi'! I +never h'ard o' sic a thing! What's the natur' o' 't, Cosmo?" + +He tried to give her some far-off idea of the sort of thing algebra +was, but apparently without success, for she cried at length, + +"Na, sirs! I hae h'ard o' cairts, an' bogles, an' witchcraft, an' +astronomy, but sic a thing as this ye bring me noo, I never did +hear tell o'! What can the warl' be comin' till!--An' dis the +father o' ye, laddie, ken what ye spen' yer midnicht hoors gangin' +teachin' to the lass-bairns o' the country roon'?" + +She was interrupted by the entrance of the laird, and they sat down +to breakfast. The grandmother within the last year had begun to +take hers in her own room. + +Grizzie was full of anxiety to know what the laird would say to the +discovery she had just made, but she dared not hazard allusion to +the CONDUCT of his son, and must therefore be content to lead the +conversation in the direction of it, hoping it might naturally +appear. So, about the middle of Cosmo's breakfast, that is about +two minutes after he had attacked his porridge, she approached her +design, if not exactly the object she desired, with the remark, + +"Did ye never hear the auld saw, sir-- + +"Whaur's neither sun nor mune, Laich things come abune--?" + +"I 'maist think I have, Grizzie," answered the laird. +"But what gars ye come ower 't noo?" + +"I canna but think, sir," returned Grizzie, "as I lie i' the mirk, +o' the heap o' things 'at gang to nae kirk, oot an' aboot as sharp +as a gled, whan the young laird is no in his bed--oot wi' 's +algibbry an' astronomy, an' a' that kin' o' thing!'Deed, sir, it +wadna be canny gien they cam to ken o' 't." + +"Wha come to ken o' what, Grizzie?" asked the laird with a twinkle +in his eye, and a glance at Cosmo, who sat gazing curiously at the +old woman. + +"Them 'at the saw speyks o', sir," said Grizzie, answering the +first part of the double question, as she placed two boiled eggs +before her master. + +The laird smiled: he was too kind to laugh. Not a few laughed at +old Grizzie, but never the laird. + +"Did YE never hear the auld saw, Grizzie," he said: + + + "Throu the heather an' how gaed the creepin' thing, + But abune was the waught o' an angel's wing--?" + +"Ay, I hae h'ard it--naegait 'cep' here i' this hoose," answered +Grizzie: she would disparage the authority of the saying by a doubt +as to its genuineness. "But, sir, ye sud never temp' providence. +Wha kens what may be oot i' the nicht?" + +"To HIM, Grizzie, the nicht shineth as the day." + +"Weel, sir," cried Grizzie, "Ye jist pit me 'at I dinna ken mysel'! +Is't poassible ye hae forgotten what's sae weel kent to a' the +cuintry roon'?--the auld captain,'at canna lie still in's grave, +because o'--because o' whatever the rizzon may be? Onygait he's no +laid yet; an' some thinks he's doomed to haunt the hoose till the +day o' jeedgment." + +"I suspec' there winna be muckle o' the hoose left for him to haunt +'gen that time, Grizzie," said the laird. "But what for sud ye put +sic fule things intil the bairn's heid? An' gien the ghaist haunt +the hoose, isna he better oot o' 't? Wad ye hae him come hame to +sic company?" + +This posed Grizzie, and she held her peace for the time. + +"Come, Cosmo," said the laird rising; and they set out together for +Mr. Simon's cottage. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +PETER SIMON. + + +This man was not a native of the district, but had for some two +years now been a dweller in it. Report said he was the son of a +small tradesman in a city at no great distance, but, to those who +knew him, he made no secret of the fact, that he had been found by +such a man, a child of a few months, lying on a pavement of that +city, one stormy, desolate Christmas-eve, when it was now dark, +with the wind blowing bitterly from the north, and the said +tradesman seemingly the one inhabitant of the coldest city in +Scotland who dared face it. He had just closed his shop, had +carried home to one of his customers a forgotten order, and was +returning to his wife and a childless hearth, when he all but +stumbled over the infant. Before stooping to lift him, he looked +all about to see if there was nobody to do it instead. There was +not a human being, or even what comes next to one, a dog in sight, +and the wind was blowing like a blast from a frozen hell. There was +no help for it: he must take up the child! He did, and carried it +home, grumbling all the way. What right had the morsel to be lying +there, a trap and a gin for his character, in the dark and the +cold? What would his wife say? And what would the neighbours think? +All the way home he grumbled. + +[Illustration: HE CARRIED IT HOME.] + +What happened there, how his wife received him with his burden, how +she scolded and he grumbled, how it needed but the one day--the +Christmas Day, in which nothing could well be done--to reconcile +them to the gift, and how they brought him up, blessing the day +when they found him, would be a story fit to make the truehearted +of my readers both laugh and cry; but I have not room or time for +it. + +Of course, as they were in poor circumstances, hardly able indeed, +not merely to make both ends meet, but to bring them far enough +round the parcel of their necessities to let them see each other, +their friends called their behaviour in refusing to hand over the +brat to the parish authorities--which they felt as a reflection +upon all who in similar circumstances would have done so--utter +folly. But when the moon-struck pair was foolish enough to say they +did not know that he might not have been sent them instead of the +still-born child that had hitherto been all their offspring, this +was entirely too much for the nerves of the neighbours in +general--that peculiar people always better acquainted with one's +affairs, down to his faults and up to his duties, than he is +himself. It was rank superstition! It was a flying in the face of +Providence! How could they expect to prosper, when they acted with +so little foresight, rendering the struggle for existence severer +still! They did not reckon what strength the additional motive, +what heart the new love, what uplifting the hope of help from on +high, kindled by their righteous deed, might give them--for God +likes far better to help people from the inside than from the +outside. They did not think that this might be just the fresh sting +of life that the fainting pair required. To mark their disapproval, +some of them immediately withdrew what little custom they had given +them: one who had given them none, promised them the whole of hers, +the moment they sent the child away; while others, with equal +inconsistency, doubled theirs, and did what they could to send them +fresh customers: they were a pair of good-natured fools, but they +ought not to be let starve! From that time they began to get on a +little better. And still as the boy grew, and wanted more, they had +the little more. For it so happened that the boy turned out to be +one of God's creatures, and it looked as if the Maker of him, who +happened also to be the ruler of the world, was not altogether +displeased with those who had taken him to their hearts, instead of +leaving him to the parish. The child was the light of the house and +of the shop, a beauty to the eyes, and a joy in the heart of both. +But perhaps the best proof that they had done right, lay in the +fact that they began to love each other better from the very next +day after they took him in, for, to tell the truth, one cause of +their not getting on well, had been that they did not pull well +together. Thus we can explain the improvement in their +circumstances by reference to merest "natural causes," without +having recourse to the distasteful idea that a power in the land of +superstition, with a weakness called a special providence, was +interested in the matter. + +But foolishness such as theirs is apt to increase with years; and +so they sent the foundling to the grammar-school, and thence to +college--not a very difficult affair in that city. At college he +did not greatly distinguish himself, for his special gifts, though +peculiar enough, were not of a kind to DISTINGUISH a man much, +either in that city or in this world. But he grew and prospered +nevertheless, and became a master in one of the schools. His father +and mother, as he called them, would gladly have made a minister of +him, but of that he would never hear. He lived with them till they +died, always bringing home to them his salary, minus only the +little that he spent on books. His life, his devotion and loving +gratitude, so wrought upon them, that the kingdom of heaven opened +its doors to them, and they were the happiest old couple in that +city. Of course this was all an accident, for the kingdom of heaven +being but a dream, the dignity of natural cause can scarcely +consent to work to the end of delusion; but the good natured pair +were foolish enough to look upon their miserable foundling as a +divine messenger, an angel entertained not for long unawares, and +the cause of all the good luck that followed his entrance. They +never spent a penny of his salary, but added to it, and saved it +up, and when they went, very strangely left all they had to this +same angel of a beggar, instead of to their own relations, who +would have been very glad of it, for they had a good deal more of +their own. + +The foundling did not care to live longer in any city, but sought a +place as librarian, and was successful. In the family of an English +lord he lived many years, and when time's changes rendered it +necessary he should depart, he retired to the cottage on the +Warlock. There he was now living the quietest of quiet lives, +cultivating the acquaintance of but a few--chiefly that of the +laird, James Gracie, and the minister of the parish. Among the +people of the neighbourhood he was regarded as "no a'thegither +there." This judgment possibly arose in part from the fact that he +not unfrequently wandered about the fields from morning to night, +and sometimes from night to morning. Then he never drank anything +worthy of the name of drink--seldom anything but water or milk! +That he never ate animal food was not so notable where many never +did so from one year's end to another's. As he was no propagandist, +few had any notion of his opinions, beyond a general impression +that they were unsound. + +Cosmo had heard some of the peculiarities attributed to him, and +was filled with curious expectation as to the manner of man he was +about to meet, for, oddly enough, he had never yet seen him except +at a distance; but anxiety, not untinged with awe, was mingled with +his curiosity. + +Mr. Simon's cottage was some distance up the valley, at an angle +where it turned westward. It stood on the left bank of the Warlock, +at the foot of a small cliff that sheltered it from the north, +while in front the stream came galloping down to it from the +sunset. The immediate bank between the cottage and the water was +rocky and dry, but the ground on which the cottage stood was soil +washed from the hills. There Mr. Simon had a little garden for +flowers and vegetables, with a summer seat in which he smoked his +pipe of an evening--for, however inconsistent the habit may seem +with the rest of the man, smoke he did: slowly and gently and +broodingly did the man smoke, thinking a great deal more than he +smoked, and making his one pipe last a long time. His garden was +full of flowers, but of the most ordinary kinds; rarity was no +recommendation to him. Some may think that herein he was unlike +himself, seeing his opinions were of the rarest; but in truth never +once did Peter Simon, all his life, adopt an opinion because of its +strangeness. He never ADOPTED an opinion at all; he believed--he +loved what seemed to him true: how it looked to others he concerned +himself little. + +The cottage was of stone and lime, nowise the less thoroughly built +that the stones were unhewn. It was HARLED, that is rough-cast, and +shone very white both in sun and moon. It contained but two rooms +and a closet between, with one under the thatch for the old woman +who kept house for him. Altogether it was a very ordinary, and not +very promising abode. + +But when they were shown BEN to the parlour, Cosmo was struck with +nothing less than astonishment: the walls from floor to ceiling +were covered with books. Not a square foot all over was vacant. +Even the chimney-piece was absorbed, assimilated, turned into a +book-shelf, and so obliterated. Mr. Simon's pipe lay on the hob; +and there was not another spot where it could have lain. There was +not a shelf, a cupboard to be seen. Books, books everywhere, and +nothing but books! Even the door that led to the closet where he +slept, was covered over, and, like the mantleshelf, obliterated +with books. They were but about twelve hundred in all; to the eyes +of Cosmo it seemed a mighty library--a treasure-house for a royal +sage. + +There was no one in the room when they entered, and Cosmo was yet +staring in mute astonishment, when suddenly Mr. Simon was +addressing his father. But the door had not opened, and how he came +in seemed inexplicable. To the eyes of the boy the small man before +him assumed gigantic proportions. + +But he was in truth below the middle height, somewhat +round-shouldered, with long arms, and small, well-shaped hands. His +hair was plentiful, grizzled, and cut short. His head was large and +his forehead wide, with overhanging brows; his eyes were small, +dark, and brilliant; his nose had a certain look of decision--but a +nose is a creature beyond description; his mouth was large, and his +chin strong; his complexion dark, and his skin rugged. The only +FINE features about him were his two ears, which were delicate +enough for a lady. His face was not at first sight particularly +attractive; indeed it was rather gloomy--till he smiled, not a +moment after; for that smile was the true interpreter of the mouth, +and, through the mouth, of the face, which was never the same as +before to one that had seen it. After a word or two about the book +he had borrowed, the laird took his departure, saying the sooner he +left master and pupil to themselves the better. Mr. Simon +acquiesced with a smile, and presently Cosmo was facing his near +future, not without some anxiety. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE NEW SCHOOLING. + + +Without a word, Mr. Simon opened a drawer, and taking from it about +a score of leaves of paper, handed one of them to Cosmo. Upon it, +in print, was a stanza--one, and no more. + +"Read that," he said, with a glance that showed through his eyes +the light burning inside him, "and tell me if you understand it. I +don't want you to ponder over it, but to say at a reading whether +you know what it means." + +Cosmo obeyed and read. + +"I dinna mak heid nor tail o' 't, sir," he answered, looking over +the top of the paper like a prisoned sheep. + +Mr. Simon took it from him, and handed him another. + +"Try that," he said. + +Cosmo read, put his hand to his head, and looked troubled. +"Don't distress yourself," said Mr. Simon. "The thing is of no +consequence for judgment; it is only for discovery." + +The remark conveyed but little consolation to the pupil, who would +gladly have stood well in his own eyes before his new master. + +One after another Mr. Simon handed him the papers he held. About +the fifth or sixth, Cosmo exclaimed, + +"I do understand that, sir." + +"Very well," returned Mr. Simon, without showing any special +satisfaction, and immediately handed him another. + +This was again a non-luminous body, and indeed cast a shadow over +the face of the embryo student. One by one Mr. Simon handed him all +he held. Out of the score there were three Cosmo said he +understood, and four he thought he should understand if he were +allowed to read them over two or three times. But Mr. Simon laid +them all together again, and back into the drawer. + +"Now I shall know what I am about," he said. "Tell me what you have +been doing at school." + +Were my book a treatise on education, it might be worth while to +give some account of Peter Simon's ways of furthering human growth. +But intellectual development is not my main business or interest, +and I mean to say little more concerning Cosmo's than that, after +about six weeks' work, the boy one day begged Mr. Simon to let him +look at those papers again, and found to his delight that he +understood all but three or four of them. + +That first day, Mr. Simon gave him an ode of Horace, and a poem by +Wordsworth to copy--telling him to put in every point as it was in +the book exactly, but to note any improvement he thought might be +made in the pointing. He told him also to look whether he could see +any resemblance between the two poems. + +As he sat surrounded by the many books, Cosmo felt as if he were in +the heart of a cloud of witnesses. + +That first day was sufficient to make the heart of the boy cleave +to his new master. For one thing Mr. Simon always, in anything +done, took note first of the things that pleased him, and only +after that proceeded to remark on the faults--most of which he +treated as imperfections, letting Cosmo see plainly that he +understood how he had come to go wrong. + +Such an education as Mr. Simon was thus attempting with Cosmo, is +hardly to be given to more than one at a time; and indeed there are +not a great many boys on whom it would be much better than lost +labour. Cosmo, however, was now almost as eager to go to his +lessons, as before to spend a holiday. Mr. Simon never gave him +anything to do at home, heartily believing it the imperative duty +of a teacher to leave room for the scholar to grow after the +fashion in which he is made, and that what a boy does by himself is +of greater import than what he does with any master. Such leisure +may indeed be of comparatively small consequence with regard to the +multitude of boys, but it is absolutely necessary wherever one is +born with his individuality so far determined, as to be on the +point of beginning to develop itself. When Cosmo therefore went +home, he read or wrote what he pleased, wandered about at his will, +and dreamed to his heart's content. Nor was it long before he +discovered that his dreams themselves were becoming of greater +import to him--that they also were being influenced by Mr. Simon. +And there were other witnesses there, quite as silent as those +around him in the library, and more unseen, who would not remain +speechless or invisible always. + +One day Cosmo came late, and to say there were traces of tears on +his cheeks would hardly be correct, for his eyes were swollen with +weeping. His master looked at him almost wistfully, but said +nothing until he had settled for a while to his work, and was a +little composed. He asked him then what was amiss, and the boy told +him. To most boys it would have seemed small ground for such +heart-breaking sorrow. + +Amongst the horses on the farm, was a certain small mare, which, +although she worked as hard as any, was yet an excellent one to +ride, and Cosmo, as often as there was not much work doing, rode +her where he would, and boy and mare were much attached to each +other. Sometimes he would have her every day for several weeks, and +that would be in the prime of the summer weather, when the harvest +was drawing nigh, and the school had its long yearly holiday. +Summer, the harvest--"play," and Linty!--oh, large bliss! my heart +swells at the thought. They would be out for hours together, +perhaps not far from home all the time--on the top of a hill it +might be, whence Cosmo could see when he would the castle below. +There, the whole sleepy afternoon, he would lie in the heather, +with Linty, the mare, feeding amongst it, ready to come at his +call, receive him on her back, and carry him where he would! + +But alas! though supple and active, Linty was old, and the day +could not be distant when they must part company: she was then nine +and twenty. And now--the night before, she had been taken ill: +there was a disease about amongst the horses. The men had been up +with her all night, and Grizzie too: she had fetched her own pillow +and put under her head, then sat by it for hours. When Cosmo left, +she was a little better, but great fears were entertained as to the +possibility of her recovery. + +"She's sae terrible aul'! ye see, sir," said Cosmo, as he ended his +tale of woe, and burst out crying afresh. + +"Cosmo," said Mr. Simon,--and to a southern ear the issuing of such +sweet solemn thoughts in such rough northern speech, might have +seemed strange, though, to be sure, the vowels were finely sonorous +if the consonants were harsh,--"Cosmo, your heart is faithful to +your mare, but is it equally faithful to him that made your mare?" + +"I ken it's his wull," answered Cosmo:--his master never took +notice whether he spoke in broad Scotch or bastard English--"I ken +mears maun dee, but eh! SHE was sic a guid ane!--Sir! I canna bide +it." + +"Ye ken wha sits by the deein' sparrow?" said Mr. Simon, himself +taking to the dialect. "Cosmo there was a better nor Grizzie, an' +nearer to Linty a' the lang nicht. Things warna gangin' sae ill wi' +her as ye thoucht. Life's an awfu' mystery, Cosmo, but it's jist +the ae thing the maker o' 't can haud nearest til, for it's nearest +til himsel' i' the mak o' 't.--Fowk may tell me," he went on, more +now as if he were talking to himself than to the boy, "'at I sud +content mysel' wi' what I see an' hear, an' lat alane sic eeseless +speculations! wi' deein' men an' mears a' aboot me, hoo can I! +They're onything but eeseless to me, for gien I had naething but +what I see an' hear, gran' an' bonny as a heap o' 't is, I wad jist +smore for want o' room." + +"But what's the guid o' 't a', whan I'll never see her again?" +sobbed Cosmo. + +"Wha says sic a thing, laddie?" + +"A' body," answered Cosmo, a good deal astonished at the question. + +"Maister A' body has a heap o' the gawk in him yet, Cosmo," replied +his master. "Infac' he's scarce mair nor an infant yet, though he +wull speyk as gien the haill universe o' wisdom an' knowledge war +open til 'im! There's no a word o' the kin' i' the haill Bible, nor +i' the hert o' man--nor i' the hert o' the Maker, do I, i' the hert +o' me, believe Cosmo, can YE believe 'at that wee bit foal o' an +ass 'at carriet the maister o' 's, a' alang yon hill-road frae +Bethany to Jerus'lem, cam to sic an ill hin 'er en' as to be +forgotten by him he cairriet? No more can I believe that jist +'cause it carriet him it was ae hair better luiket efter nor ony +ither bit assie foalt i' the lan' o' Isr'el." + +"The disciples micht hae min't it til the cratur, an' liukit efter +him for't," suggested Cosmo. His master looked pleased. + +"They could but work the will o' him that made the ass," he said, +"an does the best for a' thing an' a' body. Na, na, my son! gien I +hae ony pooer to read the trowth o' things, the life 'at's gien is +no taen; an' whatever come o' the cratur, the love it waukent in a +human breist,'ill no more be lost than the objec' o' the same. That +a thing can love an' be loved--an' that's yer bonnie mearie, +Cosmo--is jist a' ane to savin' 'at it's immortal, for God is love, +an' whatever partakes o' the essence o' God canna dee, but maun +gang on livin' till it please him to say haud, an' that he'll never +say." + +By this time the face of the man was glowing like an altar on which +had descended the fire of the highest heaven. His confidence +entered the heart of Cosmo, and when the master ceased, he turned, +with a sigh of gladness and relief, to his work, and wept no more. +The possible entrance of Linty to an enlarged existence, widened +the whole heaven of his conscious being; the well-spring of +personal life within him seemed to rush forth in mighty volume; and +through that grief and its consolation, the boy made a great stride +towards manhood. + +One day in the first week of his new schooling, Cosmo took occasion +to mention Aggie's difficulty with her algebra, and her anxiety to +find whether it was true that a girl could do as well as a boy. Mr. +Simon was much interested, and with the instinct of the true hunter, +whose business it is to hunt death for the sake of life, +began to think whether here might not be another prepared to +receive. He knew her father well, but had made no acquaintance with +Agnes yet, who indeed was not a little afraid of him, for he looked +as if he were always thinking about things nobody else knew of, +although, in common with every woman who saw it, she did find his +smile reassuring. No doubt the peculiar feeling of the neighbours +concerning him had caused her involuntarily to associate with him +the idea of something "no canny." Not the less, when she heard from +Cosmo what sort of man his new master was, would she have given all +she possessed to learn of him. And before long, she had her chance. +Old Dorothy, Mr. Simon's servant and housekeeper was one day taken +ill, and Cosmo mentioning the fact in Aggie's hearing, she ran, +with a mere word to her mother, and not a moments' cogitation, to +offer her assistance till she was better. + +It turned out that "auld Dorty," as the neighbours called her, not +without some hint askance at the quality of her temper, was not +very seriously ailing, yet sufficiently so to accept a little help +for the rougher work of the house; and while Aggie was on her knees +washing the slabs of the passage that led through to the back door, +the master, as she always called him now that Cosmo was his pupil, +happened to come from his room, and saw and addressed her. She rose +in haste, mechanically drying her hands in her apron. + +"How's the algebra getting on, Agnes?" he said. + +"Naething's gettin' on verra weel sin' maister Cosmo gaed frae the +schuil, sir. I dinna seem to hae the hert for the learnin' 'at I +had sae lang as he was there, sae far aheid o' me, but no +a'thegither oot 'o my sicht, like.--It soon's a conceitit kin' o' a +thing to say, but I'm no meanin' onything o' that natur', sir." + +"I understand you very well, Agnes," returned the master. "Would +you like to have some lessons with me? I don't say along with +Cosmo; you would hardly be able for that at present, I fancy--but +at such times as you could manage to come--odd times, when you were +not wanted." + +"There's naething upo' the airth, sir," said Aggie, "'at I wad like +half sae weel. Thae jist a kin' o' a hoonger upo' me forun'erstan'in' +things. Its frae bein' sae muckle wi' Maister Cosmo, +I'm thinkin'--ever sin' he was a bairn, ye ken, sir; for bein' twa +year aul'er nor him, I was a kin' o' a wee nursie til him; an' ever +sin' syne we hae had nae secrets frae ane anither; an' ye ken what +he's like--aye wantin' to win at the boddom o' things, an' that's +infeckit me, sae 'at I canna rist whan I see onybody un'erstan'in' +a thing, till I set aboot gettin' a grip o' 't mysel'." + +"A very good infection to take, Agnes," replied the master, with a +smile of thorough pleasure, "and one that will do more for you than +the cow-pox. Come to me as often as you can--and as you like. I +think I shall be able to tell you some things to make you happier." + +"'Deed, sir. I'm in no want o' happiness! O' that I hae full mair +nor I deserve; but I want a heap for a' that. I canna say what it +is, for the hoonger is for what I haena." + +"Another of God's children!" said the master to himself, "and full +of the groanings of the spirit! The wilderness and the solitary +place shall be glad for them." + +He often quoted scripture as the people of the New Testament +did--not much minding the original application of the words. Those +that are filled with the spirit, have always taken liberties with +the letter. + +That very evening before she went home, they had a talk about +algebra, and several other things. Agnes went no more to school, +but almost every day to see the master, avoiding the hours when +Cosmo would be there. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +GRANNIE'S GHOST STORY. + + +Things went on very quietly. The glorious days of harvest came and +went, and left the fields bare for the wintry revelling of great +blasts. The potatoes were all dug up, and again buried--deeper than +before, in pits, with sheets of straw and blankets of earth to +protect them from the biting of the frost. Their stalks and many +weeds with them were burned, and their ashes scattered. Some of the +land was ploughed, and some left till the spring. Before the autumn +rains the stock of peats was brought from the hill, where they had +been drying through the hot weather, and a splendid stack they +made. Coal was carted from the nearest sea-port, though not in such +quantity as the laird would have liked, for money was as scarce as +ever, and that is to put its lack pretty strongly. Everything +available for firewood was collected, and, if of any size, put +under saw and axe, then stored in the house. Good preparation was +thus made for the siege of the winter. + +In their poverty, partly no doubt from consideration, they seemed +to be much forgotten. The family was like an old thistle-head, +withering on its wintry stalk, alone in a wind-swept field. All the +summer through not a single visitor, friend or stranger, had slept +in the house. A fresh face was more of a wonder to Cosmo than to +desert-haunting Abraham. The human heart, like the human body, can +live without much variety to feed on, but its house is built on a +lordly scale for hospitality, and is capable of welcoming every new +face as a new revelation. Steadily Cosmo went to his day's work +with the master, steadily returned to his home; saw nothing new, +yet learned day by day, as he went and came, to love yet more, not +the faces of the men and women only, but the aspects of the country +in which he was born, to read the lines and shades of its varying +beauty: if it was not luxuriant enough to satisfy his ideal, it had +yet endless loveliness to disclose to him who already loved enough +to care to understand it. When the autumn came, it made him sad, +for it was not in harmony with the forward look of his young life, +which, though not ambitious, was vaguely expectant. But when the +hoar frosts appeared, when the clouds gathered, when the winds +began to wail, and the snows to fall, then his spirits rose to meet +the invading death. The old castle grew grayer and grayer outside, +but ruddier and merrier within. Oh, that awful gray and white +Scottish winter--dear to my heart as I sit and write with window +wide open to the blue skies of Italy's December! + +Cosmo kept up his morning bath in "the pot" as long as he could, +but when sleet and rain came, and he could no longer dry himself by +running about, he did not care for it longer, but waited for the +snow to come in plenty, which was a sure thing, for then he had a +substitute. It came of the ambition of hardy endurance, and will +scarcely seem credible to some of my readers. In the depth of the +winter, when the cold was at its strongest, provided only the snow +lay pretty deep, he would jump from his warm bed with the first +glimmer of the morning, and running out, in a light gray with the +grayness of what is frozen, to a hollow on the hillside a few yards +from the house, there pull off his night-garment, and roll in the +snow, kneading handfuls of it, and rubbing himself with it all +over. Thus he believed he strengthened himself to stand the cold of +the day; and happily he was strong enough to stand the +strengthening, and so increased his hardihood: what would have been +death to many was to him invigoration. He knew nothing of boxing, +or rowing, or billiards, but he could run and jump well, and ride +very fairly, and, above all, he could endure. In the last harvest +he had for the first time wielded a scythe, and had held his own +with the rest, though, it must be allowed, with a fierce struggle. +The next spring--I may mention it here--he not only held the +plough, but by patient persistence and fearless compulsion trained +two young bulls to go in it, saving many weeks' labour of a pair of +horses. It filled his father with pride, and hope for his boy's +coming fight with the world. Even the eyes of his grandmother would +after that brighten at mention of him; she began to feel proud that +she had a share in the existence of the lad: if he did so well when +a hobbledehoy, he might be something by the time he was a man! But +one thing troubled her: he was no sportsman; he never went out to +hunt the otter, or to shoot hares or rabbits or grouse or +partridges! and that was unnatural! The fact was, ever since that +talk with the master about Linty, he could not bear to kill +anything, and was now and then haunted by the dying eyes of the +pigeon he shot the first time he handled a gun. The grandmother +thought it a defect in his manhood that he did not like shooting; +but, woman, and old woman as she was, his heart was larger and +tenderer than hers, and got in the way of the killing. + +His father had never troubled his young life with details +concerning the family affairs; he had only let him know that, for +many years, through extravagance and carelessness in those who +preceded his father, things had been going from bad to worse. But +this was enough to wake in the boy the desire, and it grew in him +as he grew, to rescue what was left of the estate from its burdens, +and restore it to independence and so to honour. He said nothing of +it, however, to his father, feeling the presumption of proposing to +himself what his father had been unable to effect. + +He went oftener to the village this winter than before, and rarely +without going to see Mistress Forsyth, whom he, like the rest, +always called Grannie. She suffered much from rheumatism, which she +described as a sorrow in her bones. But she never lost her +patience, and so got the good of a trouble which would seem +specially sent as the concluding discipline of old people for this +world, that they may start well in the next. Before the winter set +in, the laird had seen that she was provided with peats--that much +he could do, because it cost him nothing but labour; and indeed +each of the several cart-loads Cosmo himself had taken, with mare +Linty between the shafts. But no amount of fire could keep the +frost out of the old woman's body, or the sorrow out of her bones. +Hence she had to be a good deal in bed, and needed her +great-grandchild, Agnes, to help her to bear her burden. When the +bitter weather came, soon after Christmas, Agnes had to be with her +almost constantly. She had grown a little graver, but was always +cheerful, and, except for anxiety lest her mother should be +overworked, or her father take cold, seemed as happy with her +grandmother as at home. + +One afternoon, when the clouds were rising, and the wind blew keen +from the north, Cosmo left Glenwarlock to go to the village--mainly +to see Grannie. He tramped the two miles and a half in all the joy +of youthful conflict with wind and weather, and reached the old +woman's cottage radiant. The snow lay deep and powdery with frost, +and the struggle with space from a bad footing on the world had +brought the blood to his cheeks and the sparkle to his eyes. He +found Grannie sitting up in bed, and Aggie getting her tea--to +which Cosmo contributed a bottle of milk he had carried her--an +article rare enough in the winter when there was so little grass +for the cows. Aggie drew the old woman's chair to the fire for him, +and he sat down and ate barley-meal scons, and drank tea with them. +Grannie was a little better than usual, for every disease has its +inconsistencies, and pain will abate before an access; and so, with +storm at hand, threaded with fiery flying serpents for her bones, +she was talking more than for days previous. Her voice came feebly +from the bed to Cosmo's ears, while he leaned back in her great +chair, and Aggie was removing the tea-things. + +"Did ye ever dream ony mair aboot the auld captain, Cosmo?" she +asked: from her tone he could not tell whether she spoke seriously, +or was amusing herself with the idea. + +"No ance," he answered. "What gars ye speir, Grannie?" + +She said nothing for a few minutes, and Cosmo thought she had +dismissed the subject. Aggie had returned to her seat, and he was +talking with her about Euclid, when she began again; and this time +her voice revealed that she was quite in earnest. + +"Ye're weel nigh a man noo, Cosmo," she said. "A body may daur +speyk to ye aboot things a body wadna be wullin' to say till a +bairn for fear o' frichtin' o' 'im mair nor the bit hert o' 'm cud +stan'. Whan a lad can warstle wi' a pair o' bills, an' get the +upper han' o' them, an' gar them du his biddin', he wadna need to +tak fricht at--" There she paused. + +This preamble was enough in itself--not exactly to bring Cosmo's +heart into his mouth, but to send a little more of his blood from +his brain to his heart than was altogether welcome there. His +imagination, however, was more eager than apprehensive, and his +desire to hear far greater than his dread of the possible +disclosure. Neither would he have turned his back on any terror, +though he knew well enough what fear was. He looked at Aggie as +much as to say, "What can be coming?" and she stared at him in turn +with dilated pupils, as if something dreadful were about to be +evoked by the threatened narrative. Neither spoke a word, but their +souls got into their ears, and there sat listening. The hearing was +likely to be frightful when so prefaced by Grannie. + +"There's no guid ever cam' o' ca'in' things oot o' their ain +names," she began, "an" it's my min' 'at gien ever ae man was a +willain, an' gien ever ae man had rizzon no to lie quaiet whan he +was doon, that man was your father's uncle--his gran' uncle, that +is, the auld captain, as we ca'd him. Fowk said he saul' his sowl +to the ill ane: hoo that may be, I wadna care to be able to tell; +but sure I am 'at his was a sowl ill at ease,--baith here an' +herefter. Them 'at sleepit aneth me, for there was twa men-servan's +aboot the hoose that time--an' troth there was need o' them an' +mair, sic war the gangin's on! an' they sleepit whaur I'm tauld ye +sleep noo, Cosmo--them 'at sleepit there tellt me 'at never a nicht +passed 'at they h'ardna soons 'aneth them 'at there was no mainner +o' accoontin' for nor explainin', as fowks sae set upo' duin' +nooadays wi' a'thing. That explainin' I canna bide: it's jist a +love o' leasin', an' taks the bluid oot o' a'thing, lea'in' life as +wersh an' fusionless as kail wantin' saut. Them 'at h'ard it tellt +me 'at there was NO accoontin', as I tell you, for the reemish they +baith h'ard--whiles douf-like dunts, an' whiles speech o' mou', +beggin' an' groanin' as gien the enemy war bodily present to the +puir sinner." + +"He micht hae been but jabberin' in's sleep," Cosmo, with his love +of truth, ventured to suggest: Aggie gave him a nudge of warning. + +"Ay micht it," returned the old woman with calm scorn; "an' it +micht nae doobt hae been snorin', or a cat speykin' wi' man's +tongue, or ony ane o' mony things 'cep' the trowth 'at ye're no +wullin' to hear." + +"I AM wullin'--to hear the warst trowth ye daur tell me, Grannie," +cried Cosmo, terrified lest he had choked the fountain. He was more +afraid of losing the story than of hearing the worst tale that +could be told even about the room he slept in last night, and must +go back to sleep in again to-night. + +Grannie was mollified, and went on. + +"As I was sayin', he micht weel be ill at ease, the auld captain, +gien ae half was true 'at was said o' 'im; but I 'maist think yer +father coontit it priven 'at he had led a deevilich life amo' the +pirates. Only, gien he did, whaur was the wauges o' his ineequity? +Nae doobt he got the wauges 'at the apostle speyks o', whilk is, as +ye well ken, deith--'the wauges o' sin is deith.' But, maistly, +sic-like sinners get first wauges o' anither speckle frae the +maister o' them. For troth! he has no need to be near in's dealin's +wi' them, seein' there's nae buyin' nor sellin' whaur he is, an' a' +the gowd he has doon yon'er i' the booels o' the yird, wad jist lie +there duin' naething, gien he sent na 't up abune, whaur maist +pairt it works his wull. Na, he seldom scrimps 't to them 'at +follows his biddin'. But i' this case, whaur, I say, was the +wauges? Natheless, he aye carriet himsel' like ane 'at cud lay doon +the law o' this warl', an cleemt no sma' consideration; yet was +there never sign or mark o' the proper fundation for sic assumption +o' the richt to respec'. + +"It turnt oot, or cam to be said,'at the Englishman 'at fowk +believed to hae killt him, was far-awa' sib to the faimily, an' the +twa had come thegither afore, somewhaur i' foreign pairts. But +that's naither here nor there, nor what for he killed him, or wha's +faut was that same: aboot a' that, naething was ever kent for +certain. + +"Weel, it was an awfu' like thing, ye may be sure, to quaiet fowk, +sic as we was a'--'cep' for the drinkin' an' sic like, sin' ever +the auld captain cam, wi' his reprobat w'ys--it was a sair thing, +I'm sayin', to hae a deid man a' at ance upo' oor han's; for, lat +the men du 'at they like, the warst o' 't aye comes upo' the women. +Lat a bairn come to mischance, or the guidman turn ower the kettle, +an' it's aye,'Rin for Jean this, or Bauby that,' to set richt what +they hae set wrang. Even whan a man kills a body, it's the women +hae to mak the best o' 't, an' the corp luik dacent. An' there's +some o' them no that easy to mak luik dacent! Troth, there's mony +ane luiks bonnier deid nor alive, but that wasna the case wi' the +auld captain, for he luikit as gien he had dee'd cursin', as he +bude to du, gien he dee'd as he lived. His moo' was drawn fearfu', +as gien his last aith had chokit him. Nae doobt they said 'at wad +hae't they kent,'at hoo that's the w'y wi' deith frae slayin' wi' +the swoord; but I wadna hear o' 't; I kenned better. An' whether he +had fair play or no, the deith he dee'd was a just ane; for them +'at draws the swoord maun periss by the swoord. Whan they faun' +'im, the richt ban' o' the corp was streekit oot, as gien he was +cryin' to somebody rinnin' awa' to bide an' tak 'im wi' 'im. But +there was anither at han' to tak 'im wi' 'im. Only, gien he tuik +'im that same nicht, he cudna hae carried him far. 'Deed, maybe, the +auld sinner was ower muckle aven for HIM. + +"They brocht him hame, an' laid the corp o' him upo' his ain bed, +whaur, I reckon, up til this nicht, he had tried mair nor he had +sleepit. An' that verra nicht, wha sud I see--but I'm jist gaein' +to tell ye a' aboot it, an' hoo it was, an' syne ye can say +yersel's. Sin' my ain auld mither dee'd, I haena opent my moo' to +mortal upo' the subjec'." + +The eyes of the two listeners were fixed upon the narrator in the +acme of expectation. A real ghost-story, from the lips of one they +knew, and must believe in, was a thing of dread delight. Like +ghosts themselves, they were all-unconscious of body, rapt in +listening. + +"Ye may weel believe," resumed the old woman after a short pause, +"at nane o' 's was ower wullin' to sit wi' the corp oor lane, for, +as I say, he wasna a comely corp to be a body's lane wi'. Sae auld +auntie Jean an' mysel', we agreed 'at we wad tak the thing upo' +oorsel's, for, huz twa, we cud lippen til ane anither no to be ower +feart to min' 'at there was twa o' 's. There hadna been time yet +for the corp to be laid intil the coffin, though, i' the quaiet o' +the mirk, we thoucht, as we sat, we cud hear the tap-tappin' as +they cawed the braiss nails intil't, awa' ower in Geordie Lumsden's +chop, at the Muir o' Warlock, a twa mile, it wad be. We war +sittin', auntie Jean an' mysel', i' the mids o' the room, no wi' +oor backs til the bed, nor yet wi' oor faces, for we daurna turn +aither o' them til't. I' the ae case, wha cud tell what we micht +see, an' i' the ither, wha cud tell what micht be luikin' at hiz! +We war sittin', I say, wi' oor faces to the door o' the room, an' +auntie was noddin' a wee, for she was turnin' gey an' auld, but _I_ +was as wide waukin' an ony baudrins by a moose-hole, whan suddent +there came a kin' o' a dirlin' at the sneck,'at sent the verra sowl +o' me up intil the garret o' my heid; an' afore I had time to ken +hoo sair frichtit I was, the door begud to open; an', glower as I +wad, no believin' my ain e'en, open that door did, langsome, +langsome, quaiet, quaiet, jist as my auld Grannie used to tell o' +the deid man comin' doon the lum, bit an' bit, an' jinin' thegither +upo' the flure. I was turnt to stane, like,'at I didna believe I +cud hae fa'en frae the cheir gien I had swarfed clean awa'. An' eh +but it tuik a time to open that door! But at last, as sure as ye +sit there, you twa, an' no anither,--"--At the word, Cosmo's heart +came swelling up into his throat, but he dared not look round to +assure himself that they were indeed two sitting there and not +another--"in cam the auld captain, ae fit efter anither! Speir +gien I was sure o' 'im! Didna I ken him as weel as my ain +father--as weel's my ain minister--as weel as my ain man? He cam +in, I say, the auld captain himsel'--an' eh, sic an evil luik!--the +verra luik deith--frozen upo' the face o' the corp! The live bluid +turned to dubs i' my inside. He cam on an' on, but no straucht for +whaur we sat, or I dinna think the sma' rizzon I had left wad hae +bidden wi' me, but as gien he war haudin' for 's bed. To tell God's +trowth, for I daurna lee, for fear o' haein' to luik upo' 's like +again, my auld auntie declaret efterhin 'at she saw naething. She +bude til hae been asleep, an' a mercifu' thing it was for her, puir +body! but she didna live lang efter. He made straucht for the bed, +as I thoucht.' The Lord preserve's!' thoucht I,' is he gaein to lie +doon wi' 's ain corp?' but he turnt awa', an' roon' the fit o' the +bed to the ither side o' 't, an' I saw nae mair; an' for a while, +auntie Jean sat her lane wi' the deid, for I lay upo' the flure, +an' naither h'ard nor saw. But whan I came to mysel', wasna I +thankfu' 'at I wasna deid, for he micht hae gotten me than, an' +there was nae sayin' what he micht hae dune til me! But, think ye, +wad auntie Jean believe 'at I had seen him, or that it was onything +but a dream 'at had come ower me, atween waukin' an' sleepin'! Na, +no she! for she had sleepit throu' 't hersel'!" + +For some time silence reigned, as befitted the close of such a +story. Nothing but the solemn tick of the tall clock was to be +heard. On and on it went, as steady as before. Ghosts were nothing +special to the clock: it had to measure out the time both for +ghosts and unghosts. + +"But what cud the ghaist hae been wantin'? No the corp, for he +turnt awa', ye tell me, frae hit," Cosmo ventured at length to +remark. + +"Wha can say what ghaists may be efter, laddie! But, troth to tell, +whan ye see live fowk sae gien ower to the boady,'at they're never +happy but whan they're aitin' or drinkin' or sic like--an' the auld +captain was seldom throu' wi' his glaiss,'at he wasna cryin' for +the whisky or the het watter for the neist--whan the boady's the +best half o' them, like, an' they maun aye be duin' something wi' +'t, ye needna won'er 'at the ghaist o' ane sic like sud fin' +himsel' geyan eerie an' lonesome like, wantin' his seck to fill, +an' sae try to win back to hae a luik hoo it was weirin'." + +"But he gaed na to the corp," Cosmo insisted. + +"'Cause he wasna alloot," said Grannie. "He wad hae been intil't +again in a moment, ye may be certain, gien it had been in his +pooer. But the deevils cudna gang intil the swine wantin' leave." + +"Ay, I see," said Cosmo. + +"But jist ye speir at yer new maister," Grannie went on, "what he +thinks aboot it, for I ance h'ard him speyk richt wise words to my +gudeson, James Gracie, anent sic things. I min' weel 'at he said +the only thing 'at made agen the viouw I tiuk--though I spakna o' +the partic'lar occasion--was,'at naebody ever h'ard tell o' the +ghaist o' an alderman, wha they say's some grit Lon'on man, sair +gien to the fillin' o' the seck." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE STORM-GUEST. + + +Again a deep silence descended on the room. The twilight had long +fallen, and settled down into the dark. The only thing that +acknowledged and answered the clock was the red glow of the peats +on the hearth. To Cosmo, as he sat sunk in thought, the clock and +the fire seemed to be holding a silent talk. Presently came a great +and sudden blast of wind, which roused Cosmo, and made him bethink +himself that it was time to be going home. And for this there was +another reason besides the threatening storm: he had the night +before begun to read aloud one of Sir Walter's novels to the +assembled family, and Grizzie would be getting anxious for another +portion of it before she went to bed. + +"I'm glaid to see ye sae muckle better, Grannie," he said. "I'll +say gude nicht noo, an' luik in again the morn." + +"Weel, I'm obleeged to ye," replied the old woman. "There's been +but feow o' yer kin, be their fau'ts what they micht, wad forget +ony 'at luikit for a kin' word or a kin' deed!--Aggie, lass, ye'll +convoy him a bittock, willna ye?" + +All the few in whom yet lingered any shadow of retainership towards +the fast-fading chieftainship of Glenwarlock, seemed to cherish the +notion that the heir of the house had to be tended and cared for +like a child--that was what they were in the world for. Doubtless a +pitying sense of the misfortunes of the family had much to do with +the feeling. + +"There's nae occasion," and "I'll du that," said the two young +people in a breath. + +Cosmo rose, and began to put on his plaid, crossing it over back +and chest to leave his arms free: that way the wind would get least +hold on him. Agnes went to the closet for her plaid also--of the +same tartan, and drawing it over her head and pinning it under her +chin, was presently ready for the stormy way. Then she turned to +Cosmo, and was pinning his plaid together at the throat, when the +wind came with a sudden howl, rushed down the chimney, and drove +the level smoke into the middle of the room. It could not shake the +cottage--it was too lowly: neither could it rattle its +windows--they were not made to open; but it bellowed over it like a +wave over a rock, and as in contempt blew its smoke back into its +throat. + +"It'll be a wull nicht, I'm doobtin', Cosmo," said Agnes; "an' I +wuss ye safe i' the ingle-neak wi' yer fowk." + +Cosmo laughed. "The win' kens me," he said. + +"Guid farbid!" cried the old woman from the bed. + +[Illustration: THE CLOCK AND THE PIPE SEEMED TO BE HOLDING A SILENT +TALK.] + +"Kenna ye wha's the prence o' 't, laddie? Makna a jeist o' the +pooers 'at be." + +"Gien they binna ordeent o' God, what are they but a jeist?" +returned Cosmo. "Eh, but ye wad mak a bonny munsie o' me, Grannie, +to hae me feart at the deil an' a'! I canna a' thegither help it +wi' the ghaists, an' I'm ashamed o' mysel' for that; but I AM NOT +gaein to heed the deil. I defy him an' a' his works. He's but a +cooerd, ye ken, Grannie, for whan ye resist him, he rins." + +She made no answer. Cosmo shook hands with her, and went, followed +by Agnes, who locked the door behind her, and put the key in her +pocket. + +It was indeed a wild night. The wind was rushing from the north, +full of sharp stinging pellicles, something between snow-flakes and +hail-stones. Down the wide village street it came right in their +faces. Through it, as through a thin shifting sheet, they saw on +both sides the flickering lights of the many homes, but before them +lay darkness, and the moor, a chaos, a carnival of wind and snow. +Worst of all the snow on the road was not BINDING, and their feet +felt as if walking on sand. As long as the footing is good, one can +get on even in the face of a northerly storm; but to heave with a +shifting fulcrum is hard. Nevertheless Cosmo, beholding with his +mind's eye the wide waste around him, rejoiced; invisible through +the snow, it was not the less a presence, and his young heart +rushed to the contest. There was no fear of ghosts in such a storm! +The ghosts might be there, but there was no time to heed them, and +that was as good as their absence--perhaps better, if we knew all. + +"Bide a wee, Cosmo," cried Agnes, and leaving him in the middle of +the street where they were walking, she ran across to one of the +houses, and entered--lifting the latch without ceremony. No +neighbour troubled another to come and open the door; if there was +no one at home, the key in the lock outside showed it. + +Cosmo turned his back to the wind, and stood waiting. From the door +which Aggie opened, came through the wind and snow the sound of the +shoemaker's hammer on his lapstone. + +"Cud ye spare the mistress for an hoor, or maybe twa an' a half, to +haud Grannie company, John Nauchty?" said Agnes. + +"Weel that," answered the SUTOR, hammering away. He intended no +reflection on the bond that bound the mistress and himself. + +"I dinna see her," said Aggie. + +"She'll be in in a minute. She's run ower the ro'd to get a doup o' +a can'le," returned the man. + +"Gien she dinna the speedier, she'll hae to licht it to fin' her +ain door," said Agnes merrily, to whom the approaching fight with +the elements was as welcome as to Cosmo. She had made up her mind +to go with him all the way, let him protest as he might. + +"Ow na! she'll hearken, an' hear the hemmer," replied the +shoemaker. + +"Weel, tak the key, an' ye winna forget, John?" said Aggie, laying +the key amongst his tools. "Grannie's lyin' there her lee-lane, an' +gien the hoose was to tak fire, what wad come o' her?" + +"Guid forbid onybody sud forget Grannie!" rejoined the man +heartily; "but fire wad hae a sma' chance the nicht." + +Agnes thanked and left him. All the time he had not missed a single +stroke of his hammer on the benleather between it and his lapstone. + +When she rejoined Cosmo, where he stood leaning his back against +the wind in the middle of the road, + +"Come nae farther, Aggie," he said. "It's an ill nicht, an' grows +waur. There's nae guid in't naither, for we winna hear ane anither +speyk ohn stoppit, an' turnt oor backs til't. Gang to yer Grannie; +she'll be feart aboot ye." + +"Nae a bit. I maun see ye oot o' the toon." + +They fought their way along the street, and out on the open moor, +the greater part of which was still heather and swamp. Peat-bog and +ploughed land was all one waste of snow. Creation seemed but the +snow that had fallen, the snow that was falling, and the snow that +had yet to fall; or, to put it otherwise, a fall of snow between +two outspread worlds of snow. + +"Gang back, noo, Aggie," said Cosmo again. "What's the guid o' twa +whaur ane only need be, an' baith hae to fecht for themsel's?" + +"I'm no gaein' back yet," persisted Aggie. "Twa's better at +onything nor ane himblane. The sutor's wife's gaein' in to see +Grannie, an' Grannie 'll like her cracks a heap better nor mine. +She thinks I hae nae mair brains nor a hen,'cause I canna min' upo' +things at war nearhan' forgotten or I was born." + +Cosmo desisted from useless persuasion, and they struggled on +together, through the snow above and the snow beneath. At this +Aggie was more than a match for Cosmo. Lighter and smaller, and +perhaps with larger lungs in proportion, she bored her way through +the blast better than he, and the moment he began to expostulate, +would increase the distance between them, and go on in front where +he knew she could not hear a word he said. + +At last, being then a little ahead, she turned her back to the +wind, and waited for him to come up. + +"Noo, ye've had eneuch o' 't!" he said. "An' I maun turn an' gang +back wi' you, or ye'll never win hame." + +Aggie broke into a loud laugh that rang like music through the +storm. + +"A likly thing!" she cried; "an' me wi' my back a' the ro'd to the +win'! Gang back yersel', Cosmo, an' sit by Grannie's fire, an' I'll +gang on to the castle, an' lat them ken whaur ye are. Gien ye dinna +that, I tell ye ance for a', I'm no gaein' to lea' ye till I see ye +safe inside yer ain wa's." + +"But Aggie," reasoned Cosmo, with yet greater earnestness, "what'll +ye gar fowk think o' me,'at wad hae a lassie to gang hame wi' me, +for fear the win' micht blaw me intil the sea? Ye'll bring me to +shame, Aggie." + +"A lassie! say ye?" cried Aggie,--"I think I hear ye!--an' me auld +eneuch to be yer mither! Is' tak guid care there s' be nae affront +intil 't. Haud yer hert quaiet, Cosmo; ye'll hae need o' a' yer +breath afore ye win to yer ain fireside." + +As she spoke, the wind pounced upon them with a fiercer gust than +any that had preceded. Instinctively they grasped each other, as if +from the wish, if they should be blown away, to be blown away +together. + +"Eh, that's a rouch ane!" said Cosmo, and again Aggie laughed +merrily. + +While they stood thus, with their backs to the wind, the moon rose. +Far indeed from being visible, she yet shed a little glimmer of +light over the plain, revealing a world as wild as ever the frozen +north outspread--as wild as ever poet's despairing vision of +desolation. I see it! I see it! but how shall I make my reader see +it with me? It was ghastly. The only similitude of life was the +perplexed and multitudinous motion of the drifting, falling flakes. +No shape was to be seen, no sound but that of the wind to be heard. +It was like the dream of a delirious child after reading the +ancient theory of the existence of the world by the rushing +together of fortuitous atoms. Wan and thick, tumultuous, +innumerable to millions of angels, an interminable tempest of +intermingling and indistinguishable vortices, it stretched on and +on, a boundless hell of cold and shapelessness--white thinned with +gray, and fading into gray blackness, into tangible darkness. + +The moment the fury of the blast abated, Agnes turned, and without +a word, began again her boring march, forcing her way through the +palpable obstructions of wind and snow. Unable to prevent her, +Cosmo followed. But he comforted himself with the thought, that, if +the storm continued he would get his father to use his authority +against her attempting a return before the morning. The sutor's +wife was one of Grannie's best cronies, and there was no fear of +her being deserted through the night. + +Aggie kept the lead she had taken, till there could be no more +question of going on, and they were now drawing near the road that +struck off to the left, along the bank of the Warlock river, +leading up among the vallies and low hills, most of which had once +been the property of the house of Warlock, when she stopped +suddenly, this time without turning her back to the wind, and Cosmo +was immediately beside her. + +"What's yon, Cosmo?" she said--and Cosmo fancied consternation in +the tone. He looked sharply forward, and saw what seemed a glimmer, +but might be only something whiter in the whiteness. No! it was +certainly a light--but whether on the road he could not tell. There +was no house in that direction! It moved!--yet not as if carried in +human hand! Now it was gone! There it was again! There were two of +them--two huge pale eyes, rolling from side to side. Grannie's +warning about the Prince of the power of the air, darted into +Cosmo's mind. It was awful! But anyhow the devil was not to be run +from! That was the easiest measure, no doubt, yet not the less the +one impossible to take. And now it was plain that the something was +not away on the moor, but on the road in front of them, and coming +towards them. It came nearer and nearer, and grew vaguely +visible--a huge blundering mass--animal or what, they could not +tell, but on the wind came sounds that might be human--or animal +human--the sounds of encouragement and incitation to horses. And +now it approached no more. With common impulse they hastened +towards it. + +It was a travelling carriage--a rare sight in those parts at any +time, and rarer still in winter. Both of them had certainly seen +one before, but as certainly, never a pair of lighted +carriage-lamps, with reflectors to make of them fiendish eyes. It +had but two horses, and, do what the driver could, which was not +much, they persisted in standing stock-still, refusing to take a +single step farther. Indeed they could not. They had tried and +tried, and done their best, but finding themselves unable to move +the carriage an inch, preferred standing still to spending +themselves in vain struggles, for all their eight legs went +slipping about under them. + +Cosmo looked up to the box. The driver was little more than a boy, +and nearly dead with cold. Already Aggie had a forefoot of the near +horse in her hand. Cosmo ran to the other. + +"Their feet's fu' o' snaw," said Aggie. + +"Ay; it's ba'd hard," said Cosmo. "They maun hae come ower a saft +place: it wadna ba' the nicht upo' the muir." + +"Hae ye yer knife, Cosmo?" asked Aggie. + +Here a head was put out of the carriage-window. It was that of a +lady in a swansdown travelling-hood. She had heard an +unintelligible conversation--and one intelligible word. They must +be robbers! How else should they want a knife in a snowstorm? Why +else should they have stopped the carriage? She gave a little cry +of alarm. Aggie dropped the hoof she held, and went to the window. + +"What's yer wull, mem?" she asked. + +"What's the matter?" the lady returned in a trembling voice, but +not a little reassured at the sight, as she crossed the range of +one of the lamps, of the face of a young girl. "Why doesn't the +coachman go on?" + +"He canna, mem. The horse canna win throu the snaw. They hae ba's +o' 't i' their feet, an' they canna get a grip wi' them, nae mair +nor ye cud yersel', mem, gien the soles o' yer shune war roon' an' +made o'ice. But we'll sune set that richt.--Hoo far hae ye come, +mem, gien I may speir? Aigh, mem, its an unco nicht!" + +The lady did not understand much of what Aggie said, for she was +English, returning from her first visit to Scotland, but, half +guessing at her question, replied, that they had come from +Cairntod, and were going on to Howglen. She told her also, now +entirely reassured by Aggie's voice, that they had been much longer on +the way than they had expected, and were now getting anxious. + +"I doobt sair gien ye'll win to Howglen the nicht," said Aggie.-- +"But ye're not yer lone? "she added, trying to summon her English, +of which she had plenty of a sort, though not always at hand. + +"My father is with me," said the lady, looking back into the dark +carriage, "but I think he is asleep, and I don't want to wake him +while we are standing still." + +Peeping in, Aggie caught sight of somebody muffled, leaning back in +the other corner of the carriage, and breathing heavily. + +To Aggie's not altogether unaccustomed eye, it seemed he might have +had more than was good for him in the way of refreshment. + +Cosmo was busy clearing the snow from the horses' hoofs. The +driver, stupid or dazed, sat on the box, helpless as a parrot on a +swinging perch. + +"You'll never win to Howglen to-night, mem," said Aggie. + +"We must put up where we can, then," answered the lady. + +"I dinna know of a place nearer, fit for gentlefowk, mem." +"What are we to do then?" asked the lady, with subdued, but evident +anxiety. + +"What's the guid o' haein' a father like that--sleepin' and snorin' +whan maist ye're in want o' 'im!" thought Aggie to herself; but +what she replied was, "Bide, mem, till we hear what Cosmo has to +say til't." + +"That is a peculiar name!" remarked the lady, brightening at the +sound of it, for it could, she thought, hardly belong to a peasant. + +"It's the name the lairds o' Glenwarlock hae borne for +generations," answered Aggie; "though doobtless it's no a name, as +the maister wad say, indigenous to the country. Ane o' them broucht +it frae Italy, the place whaur the Pop' o' Rom' bides." + +"And who is this Cosmo whose advice you would have me ask?" + +"He's the yoong laird himsel', mem:--eh! but ye maun be a stranger +no to ken the name o' Warlock." + +"Indeed I am a stranger--and I can't help wishing, if there is much +more of this weather between us and England, that I had been more +of a stranger still." + +"'Deed, mem, we hae a heap o' weather up here as like this as ae +snow-flake is til anither. But we tak what's sent, an' makna mony +remarks. Though to be sure the thing's different whan it's o' a +body's ain seekin'." + +This speech--my reader may naturally think it not over-polite--was +happily not over-intelligible to the lady. Aggie, a little wounded +by the reflection on the weather of her country, had in her emotion +aggravated her Scottish tone. + +"And where is this Cosmo? How are we to find him?" + +"He'll come onsoucht, mem. It's only 'at he's busy cleanin' oot yer +puir horse' hivs 'at hedisna p'y his respec's to ye. But he'll be +blythe eneuch!" + +"I thought you said he was a lord!" remarked the lady. + +"Na, I saidna that, mem. He's nae lord. But he's a laird, an' some +lairds is better nor 'maist ony lords--an' HE'S Warlock o' +Glenwarlock--at least he wull be--an' may it be lang or come the +day." + +Hard as the snow was packed in them, all the eight hoofs were now +cleared out with Cosmo's busy knife, which he had had to use +carefully lest he should hurt the frog. The next moment his head +appeared, a little behind that of Aggie, and in the light of the +lamp the lady saw the handsome face of a lad seemingly about +sixteen. + +"Here he is, mem! This is the yoong laird. Ye speir at HIM what +ye're to du, and du jist as he tells ye," said Aggie, and drew +back, that Cosmo might take her place. + +"Is that girl your sister?" asked the lady, with not a little +abruptness, for the _best bred_ are not always the most polite. + +"No, my lady," answered Cosmo, who had learned from the lad on the +box her name and rank; "she is the daughter of one of my father's +tenants." + +Lady Joan Scudamore thought it very odd that the youth should be on +such familiar terms with the daughter of one of his father's +tenants--out alone with her in the heart of a hideous storm! No +doubt the girl looked up to him, but apparently from the same +level, as one sharing in the pride of the family! Should she take +her advice, and seek his? or should she press on for Howglen? There +was, alas! no counsel to be had from her father just at present: if +she woke him, he would but mutter something not so much unlike an +oath as it ought to be, and go to sleep again! + +"We want very much to reach Howglen--I think that is what you call +the place," she said. + +"You can't get there to-night, I'm afraid," returned Cosmo. "The +road is, as you see, no road at all. The horses would do better if +you took their shoes off, I think--only then, if they came on a bit +of frozen dub, it might knock their hoofs to pieces in, such a +frost." + +The lady glanced round at her sleeping companion with a look +expressive of no small perplexity. + +"My father will make you welcome, my lady," continued Cosmo, "if +you will come with us. We can give you only what English people +must think poor fare, for we're not--" + +She interrupted him. + +"I should be glad to sit anywhere all night, where there was a +fire. I am nearly frozen." + +"We can do a little better for you than that, though not so well as +we should like. Perhaps, as we can't make any show, we are the more +likely to do our best for your comfort." + +Their pinched circumstances had at one time and another given rise +to conversation in which the laird and his son sought together to +sound the abysses of hospitality: the old-fashioned sententiousness +of the boy had in it nothing of the prig. + +"You are very kind. I will promise to be comfortable," said the +lady. + +She began to be a trifle interested in this odd specimen of the +Scotch calf. + +"Welcome then to Glenwarlock!" said Cosmo. "Come, Aggie; tak ane o' +them by the heid: they're gaein' wi' 's.--We must turn the horses' +heads, my lady. I fear they won't like to face the wind they've +only had their backs to yet. I can't make out whether your driver +is half dead or half drunk or more than half frozen; but Aggie and +I will take care of them, and if he tumble off, nobody will be the +worse." + +"What a terrible country!" said the lady to herself. "The coachmen +get drunk! the boys are prigs! there is no distinction between the +owners of the soil and the tenants who farm it! and it snows from +morning to night, and from one week's end to another!" + +Aggie had taken the head of the near horse, and Cosmo took that of +the off one. Their driver said nothing, letting them do as they +pleased. With some difficulty, for they had to be more than +ordinarily cautious, the road being indistinguishable from the +ditches they knew here bounded it on both sides, they got the +carriage round. But when the weary animals received the tempest in +their faces, instead of pulling they backed, would have turned +again, and for some time were not to be induced to front it. Agnes +and Cosmo had to employ all their powers of persuasion, first to +get them to stand still, and then to advance a little. Gradually, +by leading, and patting, and continuous encouraging in language +they understood, they were coaxed as far as the parish road, and +there turning their sides to the wind, and no longer their eyes and +noses, they began to move with a little will of their own; for +horses have so much hope, that the mere fact of having made a turn +is enough to revive them with the expectation of cover and food and +repose. They reached presently a more sheltered part of the road, +and if now and then they had to drag the carriage through deeper +snow, they were no longer buffeted by the cruel wind or stung by +its frost-arrows. + +All this time the gentleman inside slept--nor was it surprising; +for, lunching at the last town, and not finding the wine fit to +drink, he had fallen back upon an accomplishment of his youth, and +betaken himself to toddy. That he had found that at least fit to +drink was proved by the state in which he was now carried along. + +They reached at last the steep ascent from the parish road to +Castle Warlock. The two conductors, though they had no leisure to +confer on the subject, were equally anxious as to whether the +horses would face it; but the moment their heads came round, +whether only that it was another turn with its fresh hope, or that +the wind brought some stray odour of hay or oats to their wide +nostrils, I cannot tell, but finding the ground tolerably clear, +they took to it with a will, and tore up with the last efforts of +all but exhausted strength, Cosmo and Aggie running along beside +them, and talking to them all the way. The only difficulty was to +get the lad on the box to give them their heads. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE CASTLE INN. + + +The noise of their approach, heard from the bottom of the ascent, +within the lonely winter castle, awoke profound conjecture, and +Grizzie proceeded to light the lanthern that she might learn the +sooner what catastrophe could cause such a phenomenon: something +awful must have taken place! Perhaps they had cut off the king's +head as they did in France! But such was the rapidity of the +horses' ascent in the hope of rest, and warmth, and supper, that +the carriage was in the close, and rattling up to the door, ere she +had got the long wick of the tallow candle to acknowledge the +dominion of fire. The laird rose in haste from his arm-chair, and +went to the door. There stood the chaise, in the cloud of steam +that rose from the quick-heaving sides of the horses. And there +were Cosmo and Agnes at the door of it, assisting somebody to +descend. The laird was never in a hurry. He was too thorough a +gentleman to trouble approach by uneasy advance, and he had no fear +of anything Cosmo had done. He stood therefore in the kitchen door, +calmly expectant. + +A long-cloaked lady got down, and, turning from the assistant hand +of his son, came towards him--a handsome lady, tall and somewhat +stately, but weary, and probably in want of food as well as rest. +He bowed with old-fashioned worship, and held out his hand to +welcome her. She gave him hers graciously, and thanked him for the +hospitality his son had offered them. + +"Come in, come in, madam," said the old man. "The fireside is the +best place for explanations. Welcome to a poor house but a warm +hearth! So much we can yet offer stranger-friends." + +He led the way, and she followed him into the kitchen. On a small +piece of carpet before the fire, stood the two chairs of state, +each protected by a large antique screen. From hers the grandmother +rose with dignified difficulty, when she perceived the quality of +the entering stranger. + +"Mother," said the laird, "it is not often we have the pleasure of +visitors at this time of the year!" + +"The more is the rare foot welcome," answered she, and made Lady +Joan as low a courtesy as she dared: she could not quite reckon on +her power of recovery. + +Lady Joan returned her salute, little impressed with the honour +done her, but recognizing that she was in the presence of a +gentlewoman. She took the laird's seat at his invitation, and, +leaning forward, gazed wearily at the fire. + +The next moment, a not very pleasant-looking old man entered, +supported on one side by Cosmo and on the other by Agnes. They had +had no little difficulty in waking him up, and he entered vaguely +supposing they had arrived at an inn where they were to spend the +night. If his grumbling and swearing as he advanced was SOTTO VOCE, +the assuagement was owing merely to his not being sufficiently +awake to use more vigour. The laird left the lady and advanced to +meet him, but he took no notice of him, regarding his welcome as +the obsequiousness of a landlord, and turned shivering towards the +fire, where Grizzie was hastening to set him a chair. + +"The fire's the best flooer i' the gairden, an' the pig's the best +coo i' the herdin', my lord," she said--an old saw to which his +lordship might have been readier to respond, had he remembered that +the PIG sometimes meant the stone jar that held the whisky. + +As soon as Lord Mergwain was seated, Cosmo drew his father aside, +told him the names of their guests, and in what difficulty he had +found them, and added that the lady and the horses were sober +enough, but for the other two he would not answer. + +"We have been spending some weeks at Canmore Castle in Ross-shire, +and are now on our way home," said Lady Joan to Mistress Warlock. + +"You have come a long way round," remarked the old lady, not so +pleased with the manners of her male visitor, on whom she kept +casting, every now and then, a full glance. + +"We have," replied Lady Joan. "We turned out of our way to visit an +old friend of papa's, and have been storm-bound till he--I mean +papa--could bear it no longer. We sent our servants on this +morning. They are, I hope, by this time, waiting us at Howglen." + +The fire had been thawing the sleep out of Lord Mergwain, and now +at length he was sufficiently awake to be annoyed that his daughter +should hold so much converse with the folk of the inn. + +"Can't you show us to a room?" he said gruffly, "and get us +something to eat?" + +"We are doing the best we can for your lordship," replied the +laird. "But we were not expecting visitors, and one of the rooms +you will have to occupy, has not been in use for some time. In such +weather as this, it will take two or three hours of a good fire to +render it fit to sleep in. But I will go myself, and see that the +servant is making what haste she can." + +He put on his hat over his night-cap, and made for the door. + +"That's right, landlord," cried his lordship; "always see to the +comfort of your guests yourself--But bless me! you don't mean we +have to go out of doors to reach our bedrooms?" + +"I am afraid we cannot help it," returned the laird, arresting his +step. "There used to be a passage connecting the two houses, but +for some reason or other--I never heard what--it was closed in my +father's time." + +"He must have been an old fool!" remarked the visitor. + +"My lord!" + +"I said your father must have been an old fool," repeated his +lordship testily. + +"You speak of my husband!" said Mistress Warlock, drawing herself +up with dignity. + +"I can't help that. _I_ didn't give you away. Let's have some supper, +will you? I want a tumbler of toddy, and without something to eat it +might make me drunk." + +Lady Joan sat silent, with a look half of contempt, half of +mischievous enjoyment on her handsome face. She had too often to +suffer from her father's rudeness not to enjoy its bringing him +into a scrape. But the laird was sharper than she thought him, and +seeing both the old man's condition and his mistake, humoured the +joke. His mother rose, trembling with indignation. He gave her his +arm, and conducted her to a stair which ascended immediately from +the kitchen, whispering to her on the way, that the man was the +worse of drink, and he must not quarrel with him. She retired +without leave-taking. He then called Cosmo and Agnes, who were +talking together in a low voice at the other end of the kitchen, +and taking them to Grizzie in the spare room, told them to help +her, that she might the sooner come and get the supper ready. + +"I am afraid, my lord," he said, returning, "we are but poorly +provided for such guests as your lordship, but we will do what we +can." + +"A horrible country!" growled his lordship; "but look you, I don't +want jaw--I want drink." + +"What drink would your lordship have? If it be in my power--" + +"I doubt, for all your talk, if you've got anything but your +miserable whisky!" interrupted Lord Mergwain. + +Now the laird had some remnants of old wine in the once well stored +cellar, and, thankless as his visitor seemed likely to turn out, +his hospitality would not allow him to withhold what he had. + +"I have a few bottles of claret," he said, "--if it should not be +over-old!--I do not understand much about wine myself." + +"Let's have it up," cried his lordship. "We'll see. If you don't +know good wine, I do. I'm old enough for any wine." + +The laird would have had more confidence in recommending his port, +which he had been told was as fine as any in Scotland, but he +thought claret safer for one in his lordship's condition--one who +having drunk would drink again. He went therefore to the wine +cellar, which had once been the dungeon of the castle, and brought +thence a most respectable-looking magnum, dirty as a burrowing +terrier, and to the eye of the imagination hoary with age. The eyes +of the toper glistened at the sight. Eagerly he stretched out both +hands towards it. They actually trembled with desire. Hardly could +he endure the delay of its uncorking. No sooner did the fine +promissory note of the discharge of its tompion reach his ear, than +he cried out, with the authority of a field-officer at least: + +"Decant it. Leave the last glass in the bottom." + +The laird filled a decanter, and set it before him. + +"Haven't you a mangum-jug?" + +"No, my lord." + +"Then fill another decanter, and mind the last glass." + +"I have not another decanter, my lord." + +"Not got two decanters, you fool?" sneered his lordship, enraged at +not having the whole bottle set down to him at once. "But after +all," he resumed, "it mayn't be worth a rush, not to say a +decanter. Bring the bottle. Set it down. Here!--Carefully! Bring a +glass. You should have brought the glasses first. Bring three; I +like to change my glass. Make haste, will you!" + +The laird did make haste, smiling at the exigence of his visitor. +Lord Mergwain listened to the glug-glug in the long neck of the +decanter as if it had been a song of love, and the moment it was +over, was holding the glass to his nose. + +"Humph! Not much aroma here!" he growled, "I ought to have made the +old fool"--the laird must have been some fifteen years younger than +he.--"set it down before the fire--only what would have become of +me while it was thawing? It's no wonder though! By the time I've +been buried as long, I shall want thawing too!" + +The wine, however, turned out more satisfactory to the palate of +the toper than to his nostrils--which in truth, so much had he +drunk that day, were at present incapable of doing it justice--and +he set himself to enjoy it. How that should be possible to a man +for whom the accompanying dried olives of memory could do so +little, I find it difficult to understand. One would think, to +enjoy his wine alone, a man must have either good memories or good +hopes: Lord Mergwain had forgotten the taste of hope; and most men +would shrink from touching the spring that would set a single scene +of such a panorama unrolling itself, as made up the past of Lord +Mergwain. However there he sat, and there he drank, and, truth to +tell, now and then smiled grimly. + +The laird set a pair of brass candlesticks on the table--there were +no silver utensils any more in the house of Glenwarlock; years ago +the last of them had vanished--and retired to a wooden chair at the +end of the hearth, under the lamp that hung on the wall. But on his +way he had taken from a shelf an old, much-thumbed folio which Mr. +Simon had lent him--the journal of George Fox, and the panorama +which then for a while kept passing before his mind's eye, was not +a little different from that passing before Lord Mergwain's. What a +study to a spirit able to watch the unrolling of the two side by +side! + +In a few minutes Grizzie entered, carrying a fowl newly killed, its +head almost touching the ground at the end of its long, limp neck. +She seated herself on a stool, somewhere about the middle of the +large space, and proceeded to pluck, and otherwise prepare it for +the fire. Having, last of all, split it open from end to end, +turning it into something like an illegible heraldic crest, she +approached the fire, the fowl in one hand, the gridiron in the +other. + +"I doobt I maun get his lordship to sit a wee back frae the fire," +she said. "I maun jist bran'er this chuckie for his supper." + +Lady Joan had taken Mrs. Warlock's chair, and her father had taken +the laird's, and pulled it right in front of the fire, where a +small deal table supported his bottle, his decanter, and his three +glasses. + +"What does the woman mean?" said his lordship. "--Oh! I see; a +spread-eagle!--But is my room not ready yet? Or haven't you one to +sit in? I don't relish feasting my nose so much in advance of my +other senses." + +"Ow! nae fear o' yer lordship's nose,'cep' it be frae yer +lordship's hose, my lord!" said Grizzie, "for I doobt ye're +birstlin' yer lordship's shins! I'll tak the cratur oot to the +cairt-shed, an' sing' 't there first. But 'deed I wadna advise ye +to gang to yer room a minute afore ye need, for it winna be that +warm the nicht. I hae made a fire 'at's baith big an' bricht, an' +fit to ro'st Belzebub--an' I beg your pardon, laird--but it's some +days--I micht say ooks--sin' there was a fire intil 't, an' the +place needs time to tak the heat intil its auld neuks." + +She might have said years not a few, instead of some weeks, but her +truthfulness did not drive her so far. She turned, and left the +house, carrying with her the fowl to singe. + +"Here," said his lordship to his host, "move back this table and +chair a bit, will you? I don't relish having the old witch fussing +about my knees. What a mistake it is not to have rooms ready for +whoever may come!" + +The laird rose, laid his book down, and moved the table, then +helped his guest to rise, moved his chair, and placed the screen +again betwixt him and the door. Lord Mergwain re-settled himself to +his bottle. + +In the meantime, in the guest-chamber, which had for so long +entertained neither friend nor stranger, Cosmo and Aggie were +busy--too busy to talk much--airing the linen, dusting the +furniture, setting things tidy, and keeping up a roaring fire. For +this purpose the remnants of an old broken-down cart, of which the +axle was anciently greasy, had been fetched from the winter-store, +and the wood and peats together, with a shovelful of coal to give +the composition a little body, had made a glorious glow. But the +heat had hardly yet begun to affect sensibly the general atmosphere +of the place. It was a large room, the same size as the +drawing-room immediately under it, and still less familiar to +Cosmo. For, if the latter filled him with a kind of loving awe, the +former caused him a kind of faint terror, so that, in truth, even +in broad daylight, at no time was he willing to enter it. Now and +then he would open the door in passing, and for a moment stand +peering in, with a stricken, breath-bating enjoyment of the vague +atmosphere of dread, which, issuing, seemed to envelope him in its +folds; but to go in was too much, and he neither desired nor +endured even the looking in for more than a few seconds. For so +long it was to him like a page in a book of horrors: to go to the +other end of it, and in particular to approach the heavily +curtained bed, was more than he cared to do without cogent reason. +At the same time he rejoiced to think there was such a room in the +house, and attached to it an idea of measureless value--almost as +if it had a mysterious window that looked out upon the infinite. +The cause of this feeling was not to himself traceable. Until old +Grannie's story, he had heard no tale concerning it that he +remembered: he may have heard hints--a word dropped may have made +its impression, and roused fancies outlasting the memory of their +origin; for feelings, like memories of scents and sounds, remain, +when the related facts have vanished. What it was about the room +that scared him, he could not tell, but the scare was there. With a +companion like Aggie, however, even after hearing Grannie's +terrible reminiscence, he was able to be in the room without +experiencing worse than that same milder, almost pleasant degree of +dread, caused by the mere looking through the door into the strange +brooding silence of the place. But, I must confess, this applies +only to the space on the side of the bed next the fire. The bed +itself--not to mention the shadowy region beyond it--on which the +body of the pirate had lain, he could not regard without a sense of +the awfully gruesome: itself looked scared at its own consciousness +of the fact, and of the feeling it caused in the beholder. + +[Illustration: Cosmo and Aggie Dusting] + +In the strength of Aggie's presence, he was now able to take a +survey of the room such as never before. Over walls, floor, and +ceiling, his eyes were wandering, when suddenly a question arose on +which he desired certainty: "Is there," he said to himself, "a door +upo' the ither side o' the bed?" + +"Did Grannie mak mention o' sic a door?" he asked himself next, and +could not be certain of the answer. He gazed around him, and saw no +door other than that by which they had entered, but at the head of +the bed, on the other side, was a space hidden by the curtain: it +might be there! When they went to put the sheets on the bed, he +would learn! He dared not go till then! "Dare not!" he repeated to +himself--and went at once. + +He saw and trembled. It was the strangest feeling. If it was not +fear, it was something very like it, but with a mixture of wondrous +pleasure: there was the door! The curtains hid Aggie, and for a +moment he felt as if he were miles alone, and must rush back to the +refuge of her presence. But he would not yield to the +folly--compelled himself to walk to the door. + +Whether he was more disappointed or relieved, he could not, the +first instant, have told: instead of a door, scarcely leaning +against the wall, was an old dark screen, in stamped leather, from +which the gilding was long faded. Disappointment and not relief was +then his only sense. + +"Aggie," he called, still on the farther side of the bed--he called +gently, but trembled at the sound of his own voice--"did ye ever +hear--did Grannie mak mention o' a door 'at the auld captain gaed +oot at?" + +"Whisht, whisht!" cried Aggie, in a loud hissing whisper, which +seemed to pierce the marrow of Cosmo's bones, "I rede ye say nae +thing aboot that i' this chaumer. Bide till we're oot o' 't: I hae +near dune. Syne we'll steek the door, an' lat the fire work. It'll +hae eneuch adu afore it mak the place warm; the cauld intil this +room's no a coamon ane. There's something by ord'nar intil 't." + +Cosmo could no longer endure having the great, old, hearse-like bed +between him and Aggie. With a shiver in the very middle of his +body, he hastened to the other side: there lay the country of air, +and fire, and safe earthly homeliness: the side he left was the +dank region of the unknown, whose march-ditch was the grave. + +They hurried with the rest of their work. Aggie insisted on being +at the farther side of the bed when they made it. Not another word +was spoken between them, till they were safe from the room, and had +closed its door behind them. + +They went up to Cosmo's room, to make it something fitter for a +lady's bower. Opening a certain chest, they took from it--stored +there by his mother, Cosmo loved to think--another set of curtains, +clean blankets, fine sheets, and a counterpane of silk patchwork, +and put them all on the bed. With these, a white toilet-cover, and +a chair or two from the drawing-room, they so changed the room that +Cosmo declared he would not have known it. They then filled the +grate with as much fuel as it would hold, and running fast down the +two stairs, went again to the kitchen. At the door of it, however, +Aggie gave her companion the slip, and set out to go back to her +grannie at Muir o' Warlock. + +Cosmo found the table spread for supper, the English lord sitting +with his wine before him, and the lady in his grandmother's chair, +leaning back, and yawning wearily. Lord Mergwain looked muddled, +and his daughter cast on him now and then a look that had in it +more of annoyance than affection. He was not now a very pleasant +lord to look on, whatever he might once have been. He was red-faced +and blear-eyed, and his nose, partly from the snuff which he took +in large quantity, was much injured in shape and colour: a closer +description the historical muse declines. His eyes had once been +blue, but tobacco, potations, revellings day and night--everything +but tears, had washed from them almost all the colour. It added +much to the strange unpleasantness of his appearance, that he wore +a jet-black wig, so that to the unnatural came the untimely, and +enhanced the withered. His mouth, which was full of false teeth, +very white, and ill-fitting, had a cruel expression, and Death +seemed to look out every time he grinned. + +As soon as he and Lady Joan were seated at the supper-table, with +Grizzie to wait upon them, the laird and Cosmo left the kitchen, +and went to the spare-room, for the laird judged that, in the +temper and mistake her father was in, the lady would be more +comfortable in their absence. + +"Cosmo," he said, standing with his back to the fire, when he had +again made it up, "I cannot help feeling as if I had known that man +before. But I can recall no circumstances, and it may be a mere +fancy. YOU have never seen him before, my boy, have you?" + +"I don't think I have, papa; and I don't care if I never see him +again," answered Cosmo. "The lady is pretty, but not very pleasant, +I think, though she is a lord's daughter." + +"Ah, but such a lord, Cosmo!" returned his father. "When a man goes +on drinking like that, he is no better than a cheese under the +spigot of a wine-cask; he lives to keep his body well soaked--that +it may be the nicer, or the nastier for the worms. Cosmo, my son, +don't you learn to drown your soul in your body, like the poor Duke +of Clarence in the wine-butt." + +The material part of us ought to keep growing gradually thinner, to +let the soul out when its time comes, and the soul to keep growing +bigger and stronger every day, until it bursts the body at length, +as a growing nut does its shell; when, instead, the body grows +thicker and thicker, lessening the room within, it squeezes the +life out of the soul, and when such a man's body dies, his soul is +found a shrivelled thing, too poor to be a comfort to itself or to +anybody else. Cosmo, to see that man drink, makes me ashamed of my +tumbler of toddy. And now I think of it, I don't believe it does me +any good; and, just to make sure that I am in earnest, from this +hour I will take no more.--"Then," he added, after a short pause, +"I shall be pretty sure you will not take it." + +"Oh, papa!" cried Cosmo, "take your toddy all the same: I promise +you--and a Warlock will not break his word--never to taste strong +drink while I live." + +"I should prefer the word of a man to that of a Warlock," said his +father. "A Warlock is nothing except he be a man. Some Warlocks +have been men." + +From that day, I may here mention, the laird drank nothing but +water, much to the pleasure of Peter Simon, who was from choice a +water-drinker. + +"What a howling night it is, Cosmo!" he resumed. "If that poor old +drinker had tried to get on to Howglen, he would have been frozen +to death; when the drink is out of the drunkard, he has nothing to +resist with." + +By this time Lord Mergwain had had his supper, and had begun to +drink again. Grizzie wanted to get rid of him, that she might "redd +up" her kitchen. But he would not move. He was quite comfortable +where he was, he said, and though it was the kitchen! he wouldn't +stir a peg till he had finished the magnum. My lady might go when +she pleased; the magnum was better company than the whole houseful! + +Grizzie was on the point of losing her temper with him altogether, +when the laird returned to the kitchen. He found her standing +before him with her two hands on her two hips, and lingered a +moment at the door to hear what she was saying. + +"Na, na, my lord!" expostulated Grizzie, "I canna lea' ye here. Yer +lordship'll sune be past takin' care o' yersel--no 'at ye wad be a +witch at it this present! Ye wad be thinkin' ye was i' yer bed whan +ye was i' the mids' o' the middin', or pu'in' the blankets o' the +denk dub ower yer heid! Lord! my lord, yet micht set the hoose o' +fire, an' burn a', baith stable an' byre, an' horses an' cairts, +an' cairt-sheds, an' hiz a' to white aisse in oor nakit beds!" + +"Hold your outlandish gibberish," returned his lordship. "Go and +fetch me some whisky. This stuff is too cold to go to sleep on in +such weather." + +"Deil a drap or drap o' whusky, or oucht else, yer lordship's hae +fra my han' this nicht--nae mair nor gien ye war a bairn 'at wantit +poother to blaw himsel' up wi'! Ye hae had ower muckle a'ready, +gien ye war but cawpable o' un'erstan'in', or failin' that, o' +believin' an honest wuman 'at kens what state ye are in better nor +ye du yersel'.--A bonny lordship!" she muttered to herself as she +turned from him. + +The laird thought it time to show himself, and went forward. Lord +Mergwain had understood not the half of what Grizzie said; but had +found sufficient provocation in the tone, and was much too angry +for any articulate attempt at speech beyond swearing. + +"My lord," said the laird, "I think you will find your room +tolerably comfortable now: shall I have the pleasure of showing you +the way?" + +"No, indeed! I'm not going to stir. Fetch me a bottle of your +whisky--that's pretty safe to be good." + +"Indeed, my lord, you shall have no more drink to-night," said the +laird, and taking the bottle, which was nearly empty, carried it +from the table. + +Though nearly past everything else, his guest was not yet too far +gone to swear with vigour, and the volley that now came pouring +from his outraged heart was such, that, for the sake of Grizzie and +Cosmo, the laird took the bottle again in his hand, and said, that, +if his lordship would drink it in his own room, he should have what +was left of it. + +Not too drunk to see where his advantage lay, Lord Mergwain +yielded; the thunder of imprecation from bellowing sank to +growling, then to muttering, and the storm gradually subsided. The +laird gave him one arm, Cosmo another, and Grizzie came behind, +ready to support or push, and so in procession they moved from the +kitchen along the causeway, his lordship grumbling and slipping, +hauled, carried, and shoved--through the great door, as they called +it, up the stairs, past the drawing-room, and into "the muckle +chaumer." There he was deposited in an easy chair, before the huge +fire, and was fast asleep in a moment. Lady Joan had followed them, +and while they were in her father's room, had passed up to her +own, so that when they re-entered the kitchen, there was nobody +there. With a sigh of relief the laird sank into his mother's. +chair. After a little while, he sent Cosmo to bed, and, rejoicing +in the quiet, got again the journal of George Fox, and began to +read. When Grizzie had pottered about for a while, she too went to +bed, and the laird was alone. + +When he had read about an hour, he thought it time to see after his +guest, and went to his room. He found him still asleep in his chair +before the fire; but he could not be left there through such a +night, for the fire would go out, and then a pack of wolves would +hardly be worse than the invading cold. It was by no means an easy +task to rouse him, however, and indeed remained in large measure +unaccomplished--so far so, that, after with much labour and +contrivance relieving him of his coat and boots, the laird had to +satisfy his hospitality with getting him into bed in the remainder +of his clothes. He then heaped fresh fuel on the fire, put out the +candles, and left him to what repose there might be for him. +Returning to his chair and his book, the laird read for another +hour, and then went to bed. His room was in the same block, above +that of his mother. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THAT NIGHT. + + +Cosmo's temporary quarters were in one of two or three chambers +above his own, formerly occupied by domestics, when there were many +more of them about the place. He went to bed, but, after about +three hours, woke very cold--so cold that he could not go to sleep +again. He got up, heaped on his bed everything protective he could +find, and tried again. But it was of no avail. Cosmo could keep +himself warm enough in the open air, or if he could not, he did not +mind; but to be cold in bed was more than he would willingly +endure. He got up again--with an idea. Why should he not amuse +himself, rather than lie shivering on couch inhospitable? When +anything disturbed him of a summer night, as a matter of course he +got up and went out; and although naturally he was less inclined on +such a night as this, when the rooks would be tumbling dead from +the boughs of the fir-trees, he yet would, rather than lie +sleepless with cold. + +On the opposite side of the court, in a gap between the stable and +the byre, the men had heaped up the snow from the rest of the yard, +and in the heap Cosmo had been excavating. For snow-balling he had +little inclination, but the snow as a plastic substance, a thing +that could be compelled into shapes, was an endless delight to him, +and in connection with this mound he had conceived a new fancy, +which, this very night, but for the interruption of their visitors, +he would already have put to the test. + +Into the middle of the mound he had bored a tunnel, and then +hollowed out what I may call a negative human shape--the mould, as +it were, of a man, of life-size, with his arms thrown out, and his +feet stretched straight, like one that had fallen, and lay in +weariness. His object was to illuminate it, in the hope of "a man +all light, a seraph man," shining through the snow. That very night +he had intended, on his return from Muir of Warlock, to light him +up; and now that he was driven out by the cold, he would brave, in his +own den, in the heart of the snow, the enemy that had roused +him, and make his experiment. + +He dressed himself, crept softly out, and, for a preparation, would +have a good run. He trotted down the hill, beating his feet hard, +until he reached the more level road, where he set out at full +speed, and soon was warm as any boy need care to be. + +About three o'clock in the morning, the laird woke suddenly, +without knowing why. But he was not long without knowing why he +should not go to sleep again. From a distance, as it seemed, +through the stillness of the night, in rapid succession, came three +distinct shrieks, one close on the other, as from the throat of a +human being in mortal terror. Never had such shrieks invaded his +ears. Whether or not they came from some part of his own house, he +could not tell. He sprung upon the floor, thinking first of his +boy, and next of the old man whom he had left drunk in his bed, and +dressed as fast as he could, expecting every moment a fresh assault +of horrible sound. But all he heard was the hasty running of far +off feet. He hurried down, passing carefully his mother's door, but +listening as he passed, in the hope of finding she had not been +disturbed. He heard nothing, and went on. But in truth the old lady +lay trembling, too terrified to move or utter a sound. In the next +room he heard Grizzie moving, as if, like himself, getting up with +all speed. Down to the kitchen he ran, in haste to get out and +reach the great door. But when he opened the kitchen door, a +strange sight met his eyes, and for a moment arrested him. + +The night was dark as pitch, for, though the snow had ceased to +fall, great clouds of it yet filled the vault of the sky, and +behind them was no moon from which any smallest glimmer might come +soaking through. But, on the opposite side of the court, the heap +of snow familiar to his eyes was shining with an unknown, a faint, +phosphorescent radiance. The whole heap was illuminated, and was +plainly visible: but the strangest thing was, that the core of the +light had a vague SHADOWY resemblance--if one may use the word of a +shape of LIGHT--to the form of a man. There were the body and +out-stretched limbs of one who had cast himself supine in sorest +weariness, ready for the grave which had found him. The vision +flickered, and faded and revived, and faded again, while, in his +wonder forgetting for one brief moment the cries that had roused +him, the laird stood and gazed. It was the strangest, ghostliest +thing he had ever seen! Surely he was on the point of discovering +some phenomenon hitherto unknown! What Grizzie would have taken it +for, unhappily we do not know, for, just as the laird heard her +footsteps on the stair, and he was himself starting to cross the +frozen space between, the light, which had been gradually paling, +suddenly went out. With its disappearance he bethought himself, and +hurried towards the great door, with Grizzie now at his heels. + +He opened it. All was still. Feeling his way in the thick darkness, he +went softly up the stair. + +Cosmo had but just left the last remnants of his candle-ends +burning, and climbed glowing to his room, delighted with the +success of his experiment, when those quick-following, hideous +sounds rent the night, like flashes from some cloud of hellish +torture. His heart seemed to stand still. Without knowing why, +involuntarily he associated them with what he had been last about, +and for a moment felt like a murderer. The next he caught up his +light, and rushed from the room, to seek, like his father, that of +their guest. + +As he reached the bottom of the first stair, the door of his own +room opened, and out came Lady Joan, with a cloak thrown over her +night-gown, and looking like marble, with wide eyes. But Cosmo felt it +was not she who had shrieked, and passing her without a second +look, led the way down, and she followed. + +When the laird opened the door of the guest-chamber, there was his +boy in his clothes, with a candle in his hand, and the lady in her +night-gown, standing in the middle of the floor, and looking down +with dismayed countenances. There lay Lord Mergwain!--or was it but +a thing of nought--the deserted house, of a living soul? The face +was drawn a little to one side, and had a mingled expression, of +horror--which came from within, and of ludicrousness, which had an +outside formal cause. Upon closer investigation, the laird almost +concluded he was dead; but on the merest chance something must be +done. Cosmo seemed dazed, and Lady Joan stood staring with lost +look, more of fright than of sorrow, but there was Grizzie, peeping +through between them, with bright searching eyes! On her +countenance was neither dismay, anxiety, nor distraction. She +nodded her head now and then as she gazed, looking as if she had +expected it all, and here it was. + +"Rin an' fess het watter as fest's ye can, Grizzie," said the +laird. "My dear Lady Joan, go and dress, or you will be frozen to +death. We will do all we can. Cosmo, get the fire up as quickly as +possible--it is not quite out. But first you and I must get him +into bed, and cover him up warm, and I will rub his hands and feet +till the hot water comes." + +As the laird said, everyone did. A pail of hot water was soon +brought, the fire was soon lighted, and the lady soon returned more +warmly clad. He made Grizzie put the pail on a chair by the +bed-side, and they got his feet in without raising him, or taking +him out of the blankets. Before long he gave a deep sigh, and +presently showed other signs of revival. When at length he opened +his eyes, he stared around him wildly, and for a moment it seemed +to all of them he had lost his reason. But the laird said he might +not yet have got over the drink he had taken, and if he could be +got to sleep, he would probably wake better. They therefore removed +some more of his clothes, laid him down again, and made him as +comfortable as they could, with hot bottles about him. The laird +said he would sit with him, and call Lady Joan if needful. To judge +by her behaviour, he conjectured such a catastrophe was not +altogether strange to her. She went away readily, more like one +relieved than anxious. + +But there had arisen in the mind of the laird a fear: might not +Cosmo unwittingly have had some share in the frightful event? When +first he entered the room, there was Cosmo, dressed, and with a +light in his hand: the seeming phosphorescence in the snow must +have been one of his PLOYS, and might not that have been the source +of the shock to the dazed brain of the drinker? + +His lordship was breathing more softly and regularly, though every +now and then half waking with a cry--a dreadful thing to hear from +a sleeping OLD MAN. They drew their chairs close to the fire and to +each other, and Cosmo, as was usual with him, laid his hand on his +father's knee. + +"Did you observe that peculiar appearance in the snow-heap, on the +other side of the court, Cosmo?" asked the laird. + +"Yes, papa," replied the boy: "I made it myself." And therewith he +told him all about it. "You're not vexed with me, are you, papa?" +he added, seeing the laird look grave. + +"No, my son," answered his father; "I am only uneasy lest that +should have had anything to do with this sad affair." + +"How could that be, papa?" asked Cosmo. +"He may have looked out of the window and seen it, and, in the +half-foolish state he was in, taken it for something supernatural." + +"But why should that have done him any harm?" + +"It may have terrified him." + +"Why should it terrify him?" said Cosmo. + +"There may be things we know nothing of," replied his father, "to +answer that question. I cannot help feeling rather uneasy about +it." + +"Did YOU see anything frightful about my man of light, papa?" +inquired Cosmo. + +"No," answered his father, thoughtfully; "but the thing, you see, +was in the shape of a man--a man lying at full length as if he were +dead, and indeed in his grave: he might take it for his wraith--an +omen of his coming end." + +"But he is an Englishman, papa, and the English don't believe in +the second sight." + +"That does make it less likely.--Few lowlanders do." + +"Do you believe in it, papa?" + +"Well, you see," returned the laird, with a small smile, "I, like +yourself, am neither pure highlander nor pure lowlander, and the +natural consequence is, I am not very sure whether I believe in it +or not. I have heard stories difficult to explain." + +"Still," said Cosmo, "my lord would be more to blame than me, for +no man with a good conscience would have been so frightened as that, +even if it had been his wraith." + +"That may be true;--still, a man cannot help being especially sorry +anything should happen to a stranger in his house. You and I, +Cosmo, would have our house a place of refuge.--But you had better +go to bed now. There is no reason in tiring two people, when one is +enough." + +"But, papa, I got up because I was so cold I could not sleep. If +you will let me, I would much rather sit with you. I shall be much +more comfortable here." + +That his son should have been cold in the night distressed the +laird. He felt as if, for the sake of strangers, he had neglected +his own--the specially sent. He would have persuaded Cosmo to go to +his father's bed, which was in a warmer room, but the boy begged so +to be allowed to remain that he yielded. + +They had talked in a low voice for fear of disturbing the sleeper, +and now were silent. Cosmo rolled himself in his plaid, lay down at +his father's feet, and was soon fast asleep: with his father there, +the chamber had lost all its terrors, and was just like any other +home-feeling room of the house. Many a time in after years did that +night, that room, that fire, and the feeling of his father over his +head, while the bad lord lay snoring within the dark curtains, rise +before him; and from the memory he would try to teach himself, +that, if he were towards his great Father in his house as he was +then towards his earthly father in his, he would never fear +anything. + +To know one's-self as safe amid storm and darkness, amid fire and +water, amid disease and pain, even during the felt approach of +death, is to be a Christian, for that is how the Master felt in the +hour of darkness, because he knew it a fact. + +All night long, at intervals, the old man moaned, and every now and +then would mutter sentences unintelligible to the laird, but sown +with ugly, sometimes fearful words. In the gray of the morning he +woke. + +"Bring me brandy," he cried in a voice of discontent. + +The laird rose and went to him. When he saw the face above him, a +horror came upon his--a look like that they found frozen on it. + +"Who are you?" he gasped. "Where am I?" + +"You came here in the storm last night, my lord," said the laird. + +"Cursed place! I never had such horrible dreams in my life. Where +am I--do you hear? Why don't you answer me?" + +"You are at Castle Warlock, my lord," replied the laird. + +At this he shrieked, and, throwing off the clothes, sprung from the +bed. + +"I entreat you, my lord, to lie down again. You were very ill in +the night," expostulated the laird. + +"I don't stop another hour in the blasted hole!" roared his guest, +in a fierce quaver. Out of my way you fool! Where's Joan? Tell her +to get up and come directly. I'm off, tell her. I'd as soon go to +bed in the drifts as stop another hour in this abominable old +lime-kiln. + +The laird let him rave on: it was useless to oppose him. He flew at +his clothes to dress himself, but his poor old hands trembled with +rage, fear, drink, and eagerness. The laird did his best to help +him, but he seemed nowise recognizant. + +"I will get you some hot water, my lord," he said at length, and +was moving towards the door. + +"No,--you!--everybody!" shrieked the old man. "If you go out of +that door, I will throw myself out of this window." + +The laird turned at once, and in silence waited on him like a +servant. "He must be in a fit of delirium tremens!" he said to +himself. He poured him out some cold water, but he would not use +it. He would neither eat nor drink nor wash till he was out of the +horrible dungeon, he said. The next moment he cried for water, +drank three mouthfuls eagerly, threw the tumbler from him, and +broke it on the hearth. + +The instant he was dressed, he dropped into the great chair and +closed his eyes. + +"Your lordship must allow me to fetch some fuel," said the laird; +"the room is growing cold." + +"No, I tell you!" cried Lord Mergwain, opening his eyes and sitting +up. "When I'm cold I'll go to--. If you attempt to leave the room, +I'll send a bullet after you.--God have mercy! what's that at my +feet?" + +"It is only my son," replied the laird gently. "We have been with +you all night--since you were taken ill, that is." + +"When was that? What do you mean by that?" he said, looking up +sharply, with a face of more intelligence than he had yet shown. + +"Your lordship had some sort of fit in the night, and if you do not +compose yourself, I dread a return of it." + +"You well may, if I stop here," he returned--then, after a pause, +"Did I talk?" he asked. + +"Yes, my lord--a good deal." + +"What did I say?" + +"Nothing I could understand, my lord." + +"And you did your best, I don't doubt!" rejoined his lordship with +a sneer. "But you know nothing is to be made of what a man says in +a fit." + +"I have told your lordship I heard nothing." + +"No matter; I don't sleep another night under your roof." + +"That will be as it may, my lord." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Look at the weather, my lord.--Cosmo!" + +The boy was still asleep, but at the sound of his name from his +father's lips, he started at once to his feet. + +"Go and wake Grizzie," said the laird, "and tell her to get +breakfast ready as fast as she can. Then bring some peat for the +fire, and some hot water for his lordship." + +Cosmo ran to obey. Grizzie had been up for more than an hour, and +was going about with the look of one absorbed in a tale of magic +and devilry. Her mouth was pursed up close, as if worlds should not +make her speak, but her eyes were wide and flashing, and now and +then she would nod her head, as for the Q. E. D. to some unheard +argument. Whatever Cosmo required, she attended to at once, but not +one solitary word did she utter. + +He went back with the fuel, and they made up the fire. Lord +Mergwain was again lying back exhausted in his chair, with his eyes +closed. + +"Why don't you give me my brandy--do you hear?" all at once he +cried. "--Oh, I thought it was my own rascal! Get me some brandy, +will you?" + +"There is none in the house, my lord," said his host. + +"What a miserable sort of public to keep! No brandy!" + +"My lord, you are at Castle Warlock--not so good a place for your +lordship's needs." + +"Oh, that's it, yes! I remember! I knew your father, or your +grandfather, or your grandson, or somebody--the more's my curse! +Out of this I must be gone, and that at once! Tell them to put the +horses to. Little I thought when I left Cairntod where I was going +to find myself! I would rather be in--and have done with it! Lord! +Lord! to think of a trifle like that not being forgotten yet! Are +there no doors out? Give me brandy, I say. There's some in my +pocket somewhere. Look you! I don't know what coat I had on +yesterday! or where it is!" + +He threw himself back in his chair. The laird set about looking if +he had brought the brandy of which he spoke; it might be well to +let him have some. Not finding it, he would have gone to search the +outer garments his lordship had put off in the kitchen; but he +burst out afresh: + +"I tell you--and confound you, I say that you have to be told +twice--I will not be left alone with that child! He's as good as +nobody! What could HE do if--" Here he left the sentence +unfinished. + +"Very well, my lord," responded the laird, "I will not leave you. +Cosmo shall go and look for the brandy-flask in your lordship's +greatcoat." + +"Yes, yes, good boy! you go and look for it. You're all Cosmos, are +you? Will the line never come to an end! A cursed line for me--if +it shouldn't be a rope-line! But I had the best of the game after +all!--though I did lose my two rings. Confounded old cheating son +of a porpus! It was doing the world a good turn, and Glenwarlock a +better to--Look you! what are you listening there for!--Ha! ha! ha! +I say, now--would you hang a man, laird--I mean, when you could get +no good out of it--not a ha'p'orth for yourself or your family?" + +"I've never had occasion to consider the question," answered the +laird. + +"Ho! ho! haven't you? Let me tell you it's quite time you +considered it. It's no joke when a man has to decide without time +to think. He's pretty sure to decide wrong." + +"That depends, I should think, my lord, on the way in which he has +been in the habit of deciding." + +"Come now! none of your Scotch sermons to me! You Scotch always +were a set a down-brown hypocrites! Confound the whole nation!" + +"To judge by your last speech, my lord,--" + +"Oh, by my last speech, eh? By my dying declaration? Then I tell +you 'tis fairer to judge a man by anything sooner than his speech. +That only serves to hide what he's thinking. I wish I might be +judged by mine, though, and not by my deeds. I've done a good many +things in my time I would rather forget, now age has clawed me in +his clutch. So have you; so has everybody. I don't see why I should +fare worse than the rest." + +Here Cosmo returned with the brandy-flask, which he had found in +his greatcoat. His lordship stretched out both hands to it, more +eagerly even than when he welcomed the cob-webbed magnum of +claret--hands trembling with feebleness and hunger for strength. +Heedless of his host's offer of water and a glass, he put it to his +mouth, and swallowed three great gulps hurriedly. Then he breathed +a deep breath, seemed to say with Macbeth, "Ourselves again!" drew +himself up in a chair, and glanced around him with a look of +gathering arrogance. A kind of truculent question was in his +eyes--as much as to say, "Now then, what do you make of it all? +What's your candid notion about me and my extraordinary behaviour?" +After a moment's silence,-- + +"What puzzles me is this," he said, "how the deuce I came, of all +places, to come just here! I don't believe, in all my wicked +life, I ever made such a fool of myself before--and I've made many +a fool of myself too!" + +Receiving no answer, he took another pull at his flask. The laird +stood a little behind and watched him, harking back upon old +stories, putting this and that together, and resolving to have a +talk with old Grannie. + +A minute or two more, and his lordship got up, and proceeded to +wash his face and hands, ordering Cosmo about after the things he +wanted, as if he had been his valet. + +"Richard's himself again!" he said in a would-be jaunty voice, the +moment he had finished his toilet, and looked in a crow-cocky kind +of a way at the laird. But the latter thought he saw trouble still +underneath the look. + +"Now, then, Mr. Warlock, where's this breakfast of yours?" he said. + +"For that, my lord," replied the laird, "I must beg you to come to +the kitchen. The dining-room in this weather would freeze the very +marrow of your bones." + +"And look you! it don't want freezing," said his lordship, with a +shudder. "The kitchen to be sure!--I don't desire a better place. +I'll be hanged if I enter this room again!" he muttered to +himself--not too low to be heard. "My tastes are quite as simple as +yours, Mr. Warlock, though I have not had the same opportunity of +indulging them." + +He seemed rapidly returning to the semblance of what he would have +called a gentleman. + +He rose, and the laird led the way. Lord Mergwain followed; and +Cosmo, coming immediately behind, heard him muttering to himself +all down the stairs: "Mere confounded nonsense! Nothing whatever +but the drink!--I must say I prefer the day-light after all.--Yes! +that's the drawing-room.--What's done's done--and more than done, +for it can't be done again!" + +It was a nipping and an eager air into which they stepped from the +great door. The storm had ceased, but the snow lay much deeper, and +all the world seemed folded in a lucent death, of which the white +mounds were the graves. All the morning it had been snowing busily, +for no footsteps were between the two doors but those of Cosmo. + +When they reached the kitchen, there was a grand fire on the +hearth, and a great pot on the fire, in which the porridge Grizzie +had just made was swelling in huge bubbles that burst in sighs. Old +Grizzie was bright as the new day, bustling and deedy. Her sense of +the awful was nowise to be measured by the degree of her dread: she +believed and did not fear--much. She had an instinctive +consciousness that a woman ought to be, and might be, and was a +match for the devil. + +"I am sorry we have no coffee for your lordship," said the laird, +"To tell the truth, we seldom take anything more than our country's +porridge. I hope you can take tea? Our Grizzie's scons are good, +with plenty of butter." + +His lordship had in the meantime taken another pull at the +brandy-flask, and was growing more and more polite. + +"The man would be hard to please," he said, "who would not be +enticed to eat by such a display of good victuals. Tea for me, +before everything!--How am I to pretend to swallow the stuff?" he +murmured, rather than muttered, to himself.--"But," he went on +aloud, "didn't that cheating rascal leave you--" + +He stopped abruptly, and the laird saw his eyes fixed upon +something on the table, and following their look, saw it was a +certain pepper-pot, of odd device--a piece of old china, in the +shape of a clumsily made horse, with holes between the ears for the +issue of the pepper. + +"I see, my lord," he said, "you are amused with the pepper-pot. It +is a curious utensil, is it not? It has been in the house a long +time--longer than anybody knows. Which of my great-grandmothers let +it take her fancy, it is impossible to say; but I suppose the +reason for its purchase, if not its manufacture, was, that a horse +passant has been the crest of our family from time immemorial." + +"Curse the crest, and the horse too!" said his lordship. + +The laird started. His guest had for the last few minutes been +behaving so much like a civilized being, that he was not prepared +for such a sudden relapse into barbarity. But the entrance of Lady +Joan, looking radiant, diverted the current of things. + +The fact was, that, like not a few old people, Lord Mergwain had +fallen into such a habit of speaking in his worse moods without the +least restraint, that in his better moods, which were indeed only +good by comparison, he spoke in the same way, without being aware +of it, and of himself seldom discovering that he had spoken. + +The rest of the breakfast passed in peace. The visitors had tea, +oatcake, and scons, with fresh butter and jam; and Lady Joan, for +all the frost and snow, had yet a new-laid egg--the only one; while +the laird and Cosmo ate their porridge and milk--the latter very +scanty at this season of the year, and tasting not a little of +turnip--and Grizzie, seated on a stool at some distance from the +table, took her porridge with treacle. Mrs. Warlock had not yet +left her room. + +When the meal was over, Lord Mergwain turned to his host, and said, + +"Will you oblige me, Mr. Warlock, by sending orders to my coachman +to have the horses put to as quickly as possible: we must not +trespass more on your hospitality.--Confound me if I stop an hour +longer in this hole of a place, though it be daylight!" + +"Papa!" cried Lady Joan. + +His lordship understood, looked a little confused, and with much +readiness sought to put the best face on his blunder. + +"Pardon me, Mr. Warlock," he said; "I have always had a bad habit +of speech, and now that I am an old man, I don't improve on it." + +"Don't mention it, my lord," returned the laird. "I will go and see +about the carriage; but I am more than doubtful." + +He left the kitchen, and Cosmo followed him. Lord Mergwain turned +to his daughter and said, + +"What does the man mean? I tell you, Joan, I am going at once. So +don't you side with him if he wants us to stop. He may have his +reasons. I knew this confounded place before you were born, and I +hate it." + +"Very good, papa!" replied Lady Joan, with a slight curl of her +lip. "I don't see why you should fancy I should like to stop." + +They had spoken aloud, regardless of the presence of Grizzie. + +"May it be lang afore ye're in a waun an' a warmer place, my lord +an' my lady," said the old woman, with the greatest politeness of +manner she knew how to assume. When people were rude, she thought +she had a right to be rude in return. But they took no more notice +than if they had not heard. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THROUGH THE DAY. + + +It was a glorious morning. The wind had fallen quite, and the sun +was shining as if he would say, "Keep up your hearts; I am up here +still. I have not forgotten you. By and by you shall see more of +me." But Nature lay dead, with a great white sheet cast over face +and form. Not dead?--Just as much dead as ever was man, save for +the inner death with which he kills himself, and which she cannot +die. It is only to the eyes of his neighbours that the just man +dies: to himself, and to those on the other side, he does not die, +but is born instead: "He that liveth and believeth in me shall +never die." But the poor old lord felt the approaching dank and +cold of the sepulchre as the end of all things to him--if indeed he +would be permitted to lie there, and not have to get up and go to +worse quarters still. + +"I am sorry to have to tell you, my lord," said the laird, +re-entering, "that both our roads and your horses are in such a +state that it is impossible you should proceed to-day." + +His guest turned white through all the discoloration of his +countenance. His very soul grew too white to swear. He stood +silent, his pendulous under lip trembling. + +"Though the wind fell last night," resumed the laird, "the snow +came on again before the morning, and it seems impossible you +should get through. To attempt it would be to run no small risk of +your lives." + +"Joan," said Lord Mergwain, "go and tell the rascal to put the +horses to." + +Lady Joan rose at once, took her shawl, put it over her head, and +went. Cosmo ran to open the door for her. The laird looked on, and +said not a word: the headstrong old man would find the thing could +not be done! + +"Will you come and find the coachman for me, Cosmo?" said Lady Joan +when they reached the door--with a flash of her white teeth and her +dark eyes that bewitched the boy. Then first, in the morning light, +and the brilliance of the snow-glare, he saw that she was +beautiful. When the shadows were dark about her, the darkness of +her complexion obscured itself; against the white sheen she stood +out darkly radiant. Specially he noted the long eyelashes that made +a softening twilight round the low horizon-like luminousness of her +eyes. + +Through the deep snow between the kitchen and the stable, were none +but his father's footsteps. He cast a glance at her small feet, +daintily shod in little more than sandals: she could not put down +one of them anywhere without sinking beyond her ankle! + +"My lady," he said, "you'll get your feet soaking wet! They're so +small, they'll just dibble the snow! Please ask your papa if I +mayn't go and give his message. It will do just as well." + +"I must go myself," she answered. "Sometimes he will trust nobody +but me." + +"Stop then a moment," said Cosmo. "Just come to the drawing-room. I +won't keep you more than two minutes. The path there, you see, is +pretty well trodden." + +He led the way, and she followed. + +The fire was alight, and burning well; for Grizzie, foreseeing how +it must be, and determined she would not have strangers in the +kitchen all day, had lighted it early. Lady Joan walked straight to +it, and dropped, with a little shiver, into a chair beside it. To +Cosmo the sight of the blaze brought a strange delight, like the +discover of a new loveliness in an old friend. To Lady Joan the +room looked old-fashioned dreariness itself, to Cosmo an ancient +marvel, ever fresh. + +He left her, and ran to his own room, whence presently he returned +with a pair of thick woollen stockings, knitted in green and red by +the hands of his grandmother. These he carried to Lady Joan, where +she sat on the low chair, and kneeling before her, began, without +apology or explanation, to draw one of them over the dainty foot +placed on the top of the other in front of the fire. She gave a +little start, and half withdrew her foot; then looking down at the +kneeling figure of service before her, recognized at once the +utterly honest and self-forgetful earnestness of the boy, and +submitted. Carefully he drew the stockings on, and she neither +opposed nor assisted him. When he had done, he looked up in her +face with an expression that seemed to say--"There now! can't I do +it properly?" but did not speak. She thanked him, rose, and went +out, and Cosmo conducted her to the stable, where he heard the +coachman, as she called him, not much better than a stable-boy, +whistling. She gave him her father's order. . . + +[Illustration: "COSMO CONDUCTED HER TO THE STABLE."] + +The lad stared with open mouth, and pointed to one of the stalls. +There stood an utterly wretched horse, swathed in a cloth, with his +head hanging down, heedless of the food before him. It was clear no +hope lay there. She turned and looked at Cosmo. + +"The better for us, my lady!" replied Cosmo to her look; "we shall +have your beautiful eyes the longer! They were lost in the dark +last night, because they are made out of it, but now we see them, +we don't want to part with them." + +She looked at him and smiled, saying to herself the boy would be +dangerous by and by, and together they went back to the kitchen, +where since they left not a word had been spoken. Grizzie was +removing the breakfast things; Lord Mergwain was seated by the +fire, staring into it; and the laird had got his Journal of George +Fox, and was reading diligently: when nothing was to be done, the +deeper mind of the laird grew immediately active. + +When Lady Joan entered, her father sat up straight in his chair: he +expected opposition! + +"One of the horses, my lord, is quite unfit," she said. + +"Then, by my soul! we'll start with the other," he replied, in a +tone that sounded defiance to heaven or earth or whatever said him +nay. + +"As your lordship pleases," returned Joan. + +"My lord," said the laird, lowering his book to his knee, "if I +thought four cart-horses would pull you through to Howglen +to-night, you should have them; but you would simply stick fast, +horses and all, in the snow-wreaths." + +The old man uttered an exclamation with an awful solemnity, and +said no more, but collapsed, and sat huddled up, staring into the +fire. + +"You must just make the best of your quarters here; they are +entirely at your service, my lord," said the laird. "We shall not +starve. There are sheep on the place, pigs and poultry, and plenty +of oatmeal, though very little flour. There is milk too--and a +little wine, and I think we shall do well enough." + +Lord Mergwain made no answer, but in his silence seemed to be +making up his mind to the ineludible. + +"Have you any more of that claret?" he asked. + +"Not much, I am sorry to say," answered the laird, "but it is your +lordship's while it lasts." + +"If this lasts, I shall drink your cellar dry," rejoined his +lordship with a feeble grin. "I may as well make a clean breast of +it. From my childhood I have never known what it was not to be +thirsty. I believe thirst to be the one unfailing birth-mark of the +family. I was what the methodists call a drunkard before I was +born. My father died of drink. So did my grandfather. You must have +some pity on me, if I should want more than seems reasonable. The +only faculty ever cultivated in our strain was drinking, and I am +sorry to say it has not been brought to perfection yet. Perfection +is to get drunk and never know it; but I have bad dreams, sir! I +have bad dreams! And the worst of it is, if once I have a bad +dream, I am sure to have it again; and if it come first in a +strange place, it will come every night until I leave that place. I +had a very bad one last night, as you know. I grant it came because +I drank too much yesterday, but that won't keep it from coming +again to-night." + +He started to his feet, the muscles of his face working frightfully. + +"Send for your horses, Mr. Warlock," he cried. "Have them put to at +once. Four of them, you said. At once--at once! Out of this I must +go. If it be to--itself, go I must and will." + +"My lord," said the laird, "I cannot send you from my house in this +weather. As my guest, I am bound to do my best for you; especially +as I understand the country, and you do not. I said you should have +my horses if I thought they could take you through, but I do not +think it. Besides, the change, in my judgment, is a deceitful one, +and this night may be worse than the last. Poor as your +accommodation is, it is better than the open road between this and +Howglen; though, doubtless, before to-morrow morning you would be +snug in the heart of a snow--wreath." + +"Look here, sir," said Lord Mergwain, and rising, he went up to the +laird, and laid his hand on his shoulder; "if I stop, will you give +me another room, and promise to share it with me to-night? I am +aware it is an odd request to make, but, as I tell you, we have +been drinking for generations, and my nerves are the worse for it. +It's rather hard that the sins of the fathers should be visited on +the children! Before God, I have enough to do with my own, let +alone my fathers'! Every one should bear his own burden. I can't +bear mine. If I could, it's not much my fathers' would trouble me!" + +"My lord, I will do anything I can for you--anything but consent to +your leaving Castle Warlock to-day." + +"You will spend the night with me then?" + +"I will." + +"But not in that room, you know." + +"Anywhere you please in the house, my lord, except my mother's +room." + +"Then I'll stop.--Joan, you may amuse yourself; we are not going +till to-morrow." + +The laird smiled; he could not flatter himself with the hope of so +speedy a departure. Joan turned to Cosmo. + +"Will you take me about the place?" she said. + +"If you mean in-doors," interposed the laird. "It is a curious old +house, and might interest you a little." + +"I should like nothing better. May I go with Cosmo?" + +"Certainly: he will be delighted to attend your ladyship.--Here are +the keys of the cabinets in the drawing-room, Cosmo. Her ladyship +may like to look at some of their contents." + +"I hardly know enough about them," returned Cosmo. "Won't you come +yourself, father, and show them to us?" + +It was the first time the boy used the appellation. + +"If they are not worth looking at in themselves, the facts about +them cannot be of much consequence, my boy," answered the laird. + +He was unwilling to leave Lord Mergwain. Lady Joan and Cosmo went +without him. + +"Perhaps we may follow you by and by," said the laird. + +"Is the place very old, Cosmo?" asked Lady Joan on their way. + +"Nobody knows how old the oldest part of it is," answered Cosmo, +"though dates are assigned to the most of what you will see to-day. +But you must ask my father; I do not know much of the history of +it. I know the place itself, though, as well as he does. I fancy I +know nearly every visible stone of it." + +"You are very fond of it, then?" + +"There never could be any place like it to me, my lady. I know it +is not very beautiful, but I love it none the less for that. I +sometimes think I love it the more for its ruggedness--ugliness, if +you please to call it so. If my mother had not been beautiful, I +should love her all the same."--"and think there wasn't anybody +like her," he was going to add, but checked himself, remembering +that of course there was not. + +Arrived in the drawing-room, whither Cosmo led her first, Lady Joan +took her former place by the fire, and sat staring into it. She did +not know what to make of what she saw and heard. How COULD people +be happy, she thought, in such a dreary, cold, wretched country, +with such poverty-stricken home-surroundings, and nothing to amuse +them from one week's end to another? Yet they seemed to be happy to +a degree she knew nothing of! For alas, her home was far from a +blessed one; and as she had no fountain open in herself, but looked +entirely to foreign supply for her life-necessities, and as such +never can be so supplied, her life was not a flourishing one. + +There are souls innumerable in the world, as dry as the Sahara +desert--souls which, when they look most gay and summer-like, are +only flaunting the flowers gathered from other people's gardens, +stuck without roots into their own unproducing soil. Oh, the +dreariness, the sandy sadness of such poor arid souls! They are +hungry, and eat husks; they are thirsty, and drink hot wine; their +sleep is a stupor, and their life, if not an unrest, then a yielded +decay. Only when praised or admired do they feel as if they lived! +But Joan was not yet of such. She had had too much discomfort to +have entered yet into their number. There was water not yet far +from the surface of her consciousness. + +With no little pleasure and some pride, Cosmo proceeded to take the +family treasures from their shelves; but, alas! most of them were +common to the eyes of one who also had a family and a history, +lived in a much larger, if not half so old a house, and had had +amongst her ancestors more than one with a liking for antiquities, +oddities, and bibelots. Lady Joan regarded them listlessly, willing +to seem to attend to the boy, but, with her thoughts far away, +while now and then she turned a weary gaze towards the next window: +all she saw thence was a great, mounded country, dreary as sunshine +and white cold could make it. Storm, driving endless whirls of +spectral snow, would have been less dreary to her than the smiling +of this cold antagonism. It was a picture of her own life. Evil +greater than she knew had spread a winter around her. If her father +suffered for the sins of his fathers, she suffered for his, and had +for them to dwell in desolation and loneliness. + +One thing after another Cosmo brought her, but none of them seemed +much to interest her. She knew the sort of most of them. + +"This is said to be solid silver," he remarked, as he laid on a +chair beside her a curious little statuette of a horse, trapped and +decorated in Indian graving, and having its whole surface covered +with an involved and rich ornamental design. Its eyes were, or +seemed to be rubies, and saddle and bridle and housing were studded +with small gems. There was little merit in the art of it beyond the +engraving, but Cosmo saw the eyes of the lady fixed upon it, with a +strange look in them. + +"That is the only thing they say the old captain ever gave his +brother, my great-grand-father," said Cosmo. "But I beg your +pardon," he added, "I have never told you the story of the old +captain!" + +The boy already felt as if he had known their guest of a night for +years; the hearts of the young are divinely hospitable, which is +one of the things that make children the SUCH of the kingdom of +heaven. + +Lady Joan took the horse in her hand, and looked at it more +closely. + +"It is very heavy!" she remarked. + +"It is said to be solid silver," repeated Cosmo. + +She laid it down, and put her hand to her forehead, but said +nothing. + +They heard the steps and voices of the two gentlemen ascending the +stair. Lady Joan caught up the horse, rose hastily, and holding it +out to Cosmo, said, + +"Quick! quick! put it away. Don't let my father see it." + +Cosmo cast on her one look of surprise, and obeyed at once, +restored it to its place, and had just closed the doors of the +cabinet, when Lord Mergwain and his father entered the room. + +They, were a peculiar-looking pair--Lord Mergwain in antiquated +dress, not a little worn, and neither very clean nor in very good +condition--a snuffy, dilapidated, miserable, feeble old man, with a +carriage where doubt seemed rooted in apprehension, every other +moment casting about him a glance of enquiry, as if an evil spirit +came running to the mouth of his eye-caves, looked out, and +retreated; and the laird behind him, a head higher, crowned with +his red night-cap, and dressed as I have already described, looking +older than his years, but bearing on his face the repose of +discomfort accepted, his eye keen and clear, and, when turned on +his guest, filled with compassion rather than hospitality. He was +walking more erect than usual, either in recognition of the lady's +presence, or from a feeling of protection towards her father. + +"Now, my lord," he said, as they advanced from the door, "we will +set you in a warm corner by the fire, and you must make the best of +it. We can't have things all as we should like them. That is not +what the world was made for." + +His lordship returned him no answer, but threw a queer look from +under his black wig--a look of superior knowledge--of the wisdom of +this world. + +"You are an old fool," it said; "but you are master here! Ah! how +little you know!" + +He walked tottering to the fire where Cosmo had already set for him +a chair. Something in the look of it displeased him. He glanced +round the room. + +"Fetch me that chair, my boy," he said, not unkindly, and Cosmo +hastened to substitute the one he indicated. The laird placed a +tall screen behind it. His lordship dropped into the chair, and +began to rub his knees with his hands, and gaze into the fire. Lady +Joan rearranged her skirts, and for a moment the little circle +looked as if each was about to settle down to some mild enjoyment +of the others. Cosmo drew a chair as near Lady Joan as he judged +politeness would permit. The laird made up the fire, and turned +away, saying he must go and see the sick horse. + +"Mr. Warlock!" said Lord Mergwain, and spoke with a snarl, "you +will not deprive us of the only pleasure we have--that of your +company?" + +"I shall be back in a few minutes, my lord," replied his host; and +added, "I must see about lunch too." + +"That was wonderful claret!" said his lordship, thoughtfully. + +"I shall see to the claret, my lord." + +"If I MIGHT suggest, let it be brought here. A gentle airing under +my own eye, just an introduction to the fire, would improve what is +otherwise perfect.--And look here," he added, as, with a kindly bow +of assent, the laird was going, "--you haven't got a pack of cards, +have you?" + +"I believe there is a pack somewhere in the house," replied the +laird, "but it is very old, and I fear too much soiled for your +lordship's hands." + +"Oh, confound the dirt!" said his lordship. "Let us have them. +They're the only thing to make the time pass." + +"Have you a library?" asked Lady Joan--mainly to say something, for +she was not particularly fond of books; like most people she had +not yet learned to read. + +"What do you want with a library?" growled her father. "Books are +nothing but a pack of lies, not half so good for killing time as a +pack of cards. You're going to play a rubber, not to read books!" + +"With pleasure, papa," responded Lady Joan. + +"_I_ don't want to kill the time. I should like to keep it alive +for ever," said Cosmo, with a worshipping look at the beautiful +lady--a summer-bird of heaven that had strayed into their lonely +winter. + +"Hold your tongue; you are an idiot!" said his lordship angrily. +"--Old and young," he went on, unaware of utterance, "the breed is +idiotic. 'Tis time it were played out." + +Cosmo's eyes flashed. But the rudesby was too old to be served as +he had served the schoolmaster! He was their guest too, and the +father of the lady by his side! + +The hand of the lady stole to his, and patting it gently, said, as +plainly as if it had been her mouth, "Don't mind him; he is an old +man, and does not know what he is saying." He looked up in her +face, and his anger was gone. + +"Come with me," he said, rising; "I will show you what books we +have. There may be one you would like another time. We shall be +back before the cards come." + +"Joan!" cried her father, "sit still." + +She glanced an appeal for consideration to Cosmo, and did not move. +Cosmo sat down again. A few minutes passed in silence. Father and +daughter stared into the fire. So did Cosmo. But into what +different three worlds did the fire stare! The old man rose and +went to the window. + +"I MUST get away from this abominable place," he said, "if it cost +me my life." + +He looked out and shuddered. The world seemed impassable as a dead +world on which the foot of the living could take no hold, could +measure no distance, make no progress. Not a print of man or of +beast was visible. It was like a world not yet discovered. + +"I am tied to the stake; I hear the fire roaring!" he muttered. "My +fate has found me--caught me like a rat, and is going to make an +end of me! In my time nobody believed such things! Now they seem to +be coming into fashion again!" + +Whoever would represent what is passing in a mind, must say more +than the man himself knows how to say. + +The laird re-entered. + +"Well, have you brought the cards?" said Lord Mergwain, turning +from the window. + +"I have, my lord. I am sorry it is such a poor pack, but we never +play.--I think, Cosmo, you had better come with me." + +"Hold you, laird, we're going to have a rubber!" + +"Cosmo does not understand the game." + +"I will teach him," said Lady Joan. "He shall be live dummy for a +few rounds; that will be enough." + +"My lord will not care to play for counters," persisted the laird, +"and we cannot play for money." + +"I don't care what the points are," said Lord Mergwain, "--sixpence, +if you like--so long as it is money. None but a fool cares for +victory where nothing is to be got by it." + +"I am sorry to disappoint your lordship," returned the laird, "but +play for money neither my son nor myself will. But perhaps you +would like a game of draughts, or backgammon?" + +"Will you bet on the game or the gammon?" + +"On nothing, my lord." + +"Oh, confound you!" + +He turned again and went to the window. + +"This is frightful!" he said to himself. "Nothing whatever to help +one to forget! If the day goes on like this, I shall out with +everything.--Maybe I had better!--How the clodpoles would stare! I +believe I should laugh in the middle of it.--And that fellow +lurking somewhere all the time about the place, watching his chance +when the night comes!--It's horrible. I shall go mad!" This last he +spoke aloud. + +"Papa!" said his daughter sharply. + +Lord Mergwain started, and looked troubled. What he might have +uttered, he could not tell. + +"A rubber, then," he said, approaching the fire again, "--on any +terms, or no terms at all!" + +He took up the cards. + +"Ha, there's blood on them," he cried, and dashing them on the +table, turned once more to the window. + +He was like a bird in a cage that knows he cannot get out, and yet +keeps trying, as if he dared not admit the impossibility. Twenty +times that morning he went to the window, saying, "I must get out +of this!" and returned again to his seat by the fire. The laird had +removed the pack, and he said nothing more about a rubber. Lady +Joan tried to talk, and Cosmo did his best to amuse her. The laird +did his endeavour with his lordship, but with small success. And so +the morning crept away. It might have been a pleasant one to the +rest, but for the caged lord's misery. At last came Grizzie. + +"Sir, an' my lord," she said, "come ye doon the stair. The kail's +het, an' the cheirs is set, an' yer denner's waitin' ye there." + +It may have been already observed, that to Grizzie came not +unfrequently an odd way of riming what she said. She was unaware of +this peculiarity. The suggestion of sound by sound was as hidden +from her as it was deep-seated in her and strong. And this was not +all: the riming might have passed unperceived by others too, but +for the accompanying tendency to rhythm as well. Nor was this by +any means all yet: there was in her a great leaning to poetic +utterance generally, and that arising from a poetic habit of +thought. She had in her everything essential to the making of a +poetess; yet of the whole she was profoundly ignorant; and had any +one sought to develop the general gift, I believe all would have +shrunk back into her being. + +The laird rose and offered his arm to Lady Joan. Lord Mergwain gave +a grunt, and looked only a little pleased at the news: no +discomfort or suffering, mental or spiritual, made him indifferent +to luncheon or dinner--for after each came the bottle; but the +claret had not been brought to the drawing-room as he had +requested! + +When they reached the kitchen, he looked first eagerly, then +uneasily round him: no bottle, quart or magnum was to be seen! A +cloud gathered, lowering and heavy, on the face of the toper. The +laird saw it, remembered that, in his anxiety to amuse him, he had +forgotten his dearest delight, and vanished in the region behind. + +Mrs. Warlock, according to her custom, was already seated at the +head of the table. She bowed just her head to his lordship, and +motioned him to a chair on her right hand. He took it with a +courteous acknowledgment, of which he would hardly have been +capable, had he not guessed on what errand his host was gone: he +had no recollection of having given her offence. + +"I hope your ladyship is well this morning?" he said. + +"Ye revive an auld custom, my lord," returned his hostess, not +without sign of gratification, "--clean oot o' fashion noo-a-days, +excep' amang the semple. A laird's wife has no richt to be ca'd MY +LEDDY,'cep' by auncient custom." + +"Oh, if you come to that," returned his lordship, "three fourths of +the titles in use are merely of courtesy. Joan there has no more +right than yourself to be called MY LADY. Neither has my son +Borland the smallest right to the title; it is mine, and mine only, +as much as Mergwain." + +The old lady turned her head, and fixed a stolen but searching gaze +on her guest, and to the end of the meal took every opportunity of +regarding him unobserved. Her son from the other end of the table +saw her looks, and guessed her suspicions; saw also that she did +not abate her courtesy, but little thought to what her calmness was +owing. + +Mrs. Warlock, ready to welcome anything marvellous, had held with +Grizzie much conference concerning what had passed in the +night--one accidental result of which was the disappearance for the +time of all little rivalries and offences between them in the +common interest of an awful impending denouement. She had never +heard, or had forgotten the title to which Lord Borland of the old +time was heir; and now that all doubt as to the identity of the man +was over, although, let her strain her vision as she might, she +could not, through the deformation of years, descry the youthful +visage, she felt that all action on the part of the generation in +possession was none the less forestalled and precluded by the +presence of one in the house who had evidently long waited his +arrival, and had certainly but begun his reprisals. More would be +heard ere the next dawn, she said to herself; and with things in +such a train she would not interfere by the smallest show of feud +or offence. Who could tell how much that certain inmate of the +house--she hesitated to call him a member of the family--and, in +all righteous probability, of a worse place as well, had to do with +the storm that drove Borland thither, and the storms that might +detain him there! already there were signs of a fresh onset of the +elements! the wind was rising; it had begun to moan in the wide +chimney; and from the quarter whence it now blew, it was certain to +bring more storm, that is snow! + +The dinner went on. The great magnum before the fire was gathering +genial might from the soft insinuation of limpid warmth, renewing +as much of its youth as was to be desired in wine; and redeveloping +relations, somewhat suppressed, with the slackening nerves and +untwisting fibres of an old man's earthly being! + +But there was not a drop to drink on the table, except water; and +the toper found it hard to lay solid foundation enough for the wine +that was to follow, and grumbled inwardly. The sight of the bottle +before the fire, however, did much to enable him, not to be +patient, but to suppress the shows of impatience. He eyed it, and +loved it, and held his peace. He saw the water at his elbow, and +hated it the worse that it was within his reach--hated its cold +staring rebuke as he hated virtue--hated it as if its well were in +the churchyard where the old captain was buried sixty years ago. +--Confound him! why wouldn't he lie still? He made some effort to +be polite to the old hag, as he called her, in that not very secret +chamber of his soul, whose door was but too ready to fall ajar, and +allow its evil things to issue. He searched his lumber-room for old +stories to tell, but found it difficult to lay hold on any fit for +the ears present, though one of the ladies was an old woman--old +enough, he judged, not to be startled at anything, and the other +his own daughter, who ought to see no harm when her father made the +company laugh! It was a miserable time for him, but, like a much +enduring magician awaiting the moment of power, he kept eying the +bottle, and gathering comfort. + +Grizzie eyed him from behind, almost as he eyed the bottle. She +eyed him as she might the devil caught in the toils of the +arch-angel; and if she did not bring against him a railing +accusation, it was more from cunning than politeness. "Ah, my fine +fellow!" her eyes said, "he is after you! he will be here +presently!" + +Grizzie afforded a wonderfully perfect instance of a relation which +is one of the loveliest in humanity--absolute service without a +shade of servility. She would have died for her master, but even to +him she must speak her mind. Her own affairs were nothing to her, +and those of her master as those of the universe, but she was +vitally one of his family, as the toes belong to the head! In +truth, she was of the family like a poor relation, with few +privileges, and no end of duties; and she thought ten times more of +her duties than her privileges. She would have fed, and sometimes +did feed with perfect satisfaction on the poorest scraps remaining +from meals, but a doubt of the laird's preference of her porridge +to that of any maker in broad Scotland, would have given her a sore +heart. She would have wept bitter tears had the privilege of +washing the laird's feet been taken from her. If reverence for the +human is an essential element of greatness, then at least greatness +was possible to Grizzie. She dealt with no abstractions; she +worshipped one living man, and that is the first step toward the +love of all men; while some will talk glowingly about humanity, and +be scornful as a lap-dog to the next needy embodiment of it that +comes in their way. Such as Grizzie will perhaps prove to be of +those last foredoomed to be first. With the tenderness of a +ministering angel and mother combined, her eyes waited upon her +master. She took her return beforehand in the assurance that the +laird would follow her to the grave, would miss her, and at times +think nobody could do something or other so much to his mind as old +Grizzie. And if, like the old captain, she might be permitted to +creep about the place after night-fall, she desired nothing better +than the chance of serving him still, if but by rolling a stone out +of his way. The angels might bear him in their hands--she could not +aspire to that, but it would be much the same whether she got the +stone out of the way of his foot, or they lifted his foot above the +stone! + +Dinner over, the laird asked his guest whether he would take his +wine where he was, or have it carried to the drawing-room. The +offering of this alternative the old lady, to use an Elizabethan +phrase, took in snuff; for although she never now sat in the +drawing-room, and indeed rarely crossed its threshold, it was HER +room; and, ladies having been banished from the dining-room while +men drank, what would be left them if next, bottle in hand, the men +invaded the drawing--room? But happily their guest declined the +proposal, and that on the very ground of respect for her ladyship's +apartment; the consequence of which was that she very nearly +forgave him the murder of which she never doubted him guilty, +saying to herself that, whatever he might be when disguised, poor +man--and we all had our failings--he knew how to behave when sober, +and that was more than could be said for everybody! So the old lord +sat in the kitchen and drank his wine; and the old lady sat by the +fire and knitted her stocking, went to sleep, and woke up, and went +to sleep again a score of times, and enjoyed her afternoon. Not a +word passed between the two: now, in his old age, Lord Mergwain +never talked over his bottle; he gave his mind to it. The laird +went and came, unconsciously anxious to be out of the way of his +guest, and consciously anxious not to neglect him, but nothing was +said on either side. The old lady knitted and dozed, and his +lordship sat and drank, now and then mingling the aesthetic with +the sensual, and holding his glass to the light to enjoy its colour +and brilliancy,--doing his poor best to encourage the presence of +what ideas he counted agreeable, and prevent the intrusion of their +opposites. And still as he drank, the braver he grew, and the more +confident that the events of the past night were but the foolish +consequences of having mingled so many liquors, which, from the +state of the thermometer, had grown cold in his very stomach, and +bred rank fancies! "With two bottles like this under my belt," he +said to himself, "I would defy them all, but this wretched +night-capped curmudgeon of a host will never fetch me a second! If +he had not been so niggardly last night, I should have got through +well enough!" + +Lady Joan and Cosmo had been all over the house, and were now +sitting in the drawing-room, silent in the firelight. Lady Joan did +not yet find Cosmo much of a companion, though she liked to have +him beside her, and would have felt the dreariness more penetrating +without him. But to Cosmo her presence was an experience as +marvellous and lovely as it was new and strange. He had never save +in his dreams before been with one who influenced him with beauty; +and never one of his dreams came up to the dream--like reality that +now folded him about with bliss. For he sat, an isolating winter +stretched miles and miles around him, in the old paradise of his +mother's drawing-room, in the glorious twilight of a peat and wood +fire, the shadows flickering about at their own wild will over all +the magic room, at the feet of a lady, whose eyes were black as the +night, but alive with a radiance such as no sun could kindle, whose +hand was like warm snow, whose garments were lovely as the clouds +that clothe a sunset, and who inhabited an atmosphere of evanescent +odours that were themselves dreams from a region beyond the stars, +while the darkness that danced with the firelight played all sorts +of variations on the theme of her beauty. + +How long he had sat lost in the dream-haunted gorgeous silence he +did not know, when suddenly he bethought himself that he ought to +be doing something to serve or amuse, or at least interest the +heavenly visitant. Strangers and angels must be entertained, nor +must the shadow of loneliness fall upon them. Now to that end he +knew one thing always good, always at hand, and specially fitting +the time. + +"Shall I tell you a story, my lady?" he said, looking up to her +from the low stool on which he had taken his place at her feet. + +"Yes, if you please," she answered, finding herself in a shoal of +sad thoughts, and willing to let them drift. + +"Then I will try. But I am sorry I cannot tell it so well as +Grizzie told it me. Her old-fashioned way suits the story. And then +I must make English of it for your ladyship, and that goes still +worse with it." + +Alas! alas! the speech of every succeeding generation is a falling +away from the pith and pathos of the preceding. Speech gains in +scope, but loses in intensity. + +"There was once a girl in the Highlands," began Cosmo, "--not very +far from here it was, who was very beautiful, so that every young +man in the neighbourhood fell in love with her. She was as good as +she was beautiful, and of course would not let more than one be her +lover, and said no to every one else; and if after that they would +go on loving her, she could not help it. She was the daughter of a +sheep--farmer, who had a great many sheep that fed about over the +hills, and she helped her father to look after them, and was as +good and obedient as any lamb of his flock. And her name was Mary. +Her other name I do not know. + +"Now her father had a young shepherd, only a year or two older than +Mary, and he of course was in love with her as well as the rest, +and more in love with her than any of them, because he was the most +to be trusted of all in that country-side. He was very strong and +very handsome, and a good shepherd. He was out on the hills all +day, from morning to night, seeing that the sheep did their duty, +and ate the best grass, so as to give plenty of good wool, and good +mutton when it was wanted.--That's the way Grizzie tells the story, +my lady, though not so that you would understand her.--When any of +the lambs were weakly or ill, they were brought home for Mary to +nurse, and that was how the young shepherd came to know Mary, and +Mary to know him. And so it came to pass that they grew fond of +each other, and saw each other as often as they could; and Mary +promised, if her father would let her, she would marry Alister. But +her father was too well-off to show favour to a poor shepherd lad, +for his heart had got so full of his money that there was not room +enough for the blood in it. If Alister had had land and sheep like +himself, he would have had no objection to giving him Mary; but a +poor son-in-law, however good he might be, would make him feel +poor, whereas a rich son-in-law, if he were nothing but an old +miser, would make him feel rich! He told Alister, therefore, that +he had nothing to say to him, and he and Mary must have nothing to +say to each other. Mary felt obliged to do what her father told +her, but in her heart she did not give up Alister, and felt sure +Alister did not give up her, for he was a brave and honest youth. + +"Of course Alister was always wanting to see Mary, and often he saw +her when nobody, not even Mary herself, knew it. One day she was +out rather late on the hill, and when the gloaming came down, sat +wishing in her heart that out of it Alister would come, that she +might see him, though she would not speak to him. She was sitting +on a stone, Grizzie says, with the gloamin' coming down like a gray +frost about her; and by the time it grew to a black frost, out of +it came some one running towards her. + +"But it was not Alister; it was a farmer who wanted to marry her. +He was a big, strong man, rich and good-looking, though twice +Mary's age. Her father was very friendly to him. But people said he +was a coward. + +"Now just at that time, only it had not yet reached the glen, a +terrible story was going about the country, of a beast in the +hills, that went biting every living thing he could get at, and +whatever he bit went raving-mad. He never ate any creature he +attacked, never staid to kill it, but just came up with a rush, bit +it, and was out of sight in a moment. It was generally in the +twilight he came. He appeared--nobody ever saw from where--made his +gnash, and was gone. There was great terror and dismay wherever the +story was heard, so that people would hardly venture across their +thresholds after sun-down, for terror lest the beast should dash +out of the borders of the dark upon them, and leave his madness in +them. Some'said it was a sheep-dog, but some who thought they had +seen it, said it was too large for any collie, and was, they +believed, a mad wolf; for though there are no wolves in Scotland +now, my lady, there were at one time, and this is a very old +story." + +Lady Joan gaped audibly. + +"I am wearying you, my lady!" said Cosmo, penitently. + +"No, no! dear boy," answered Lady Joan, sorry, and a little +ashamed. "It is only that I am very weary. I think the cold tires +one." + +"I will tell you the rest another time," said Cosmo cheerily. "You +must lie down on the sofa, and I will cover you up warm." + +"No, no; please go on. Indeed I want to hear the rest of it." + +"Well," resumed Cosmo, "the news of this wolf, or whatever it was, +had come to the ears of the farmer for the first time that day at a +fair, and he was hurrying home with his head and his heart and his +heels full of it, when he saw Mary sitting on the white stone by +the track, feeling as safe as if she were in paradise, and as sad +as if she were in purgatory.--That's how Grizzie tells it--I +suppose because some of her people are papists.--But, for as much +as he wanted to marry her, you could hardly say he was in love with +her--could you, Lady Joan?--when I tell you that, instead of +stopping and taking her and her sheep home, he hurried past her, +crying out, 'Gang hame, Mary. There's a mad beast on the hill. Rin, +rin--a' 't ye can. Never min' yer sheep.' His last words came from +the distance, for he never stayed a step while he spoke. + +"Mary got up at once. But you may be sure, my lady, a girl like +that was not going to leave her sheep where she dared not stop +herself. She began to gather them together to take them out of +harm's way, and was just setting out with them for home, when a +creature like a huge dog came bounding upon her out of the edge of +the night. The same instant, up from behind a rock, a few yards +away, jumped Alister, and made at the beast with his crook; and +just as the wolf was upon Mary, for Alister was not near enough to +get between the beast and her, he heaved a great blow at him, which +would have knocked him down anyhow. But that instant Mary threw +herself towards Alister, and his terrible blow came down upon her, +and not upon the wolf, and she fell dead in his arms--that's what +Grizzie says--and away went the wolf, leaping and bounding, and +never uttering a cry. + +"What Alister did next, Grizzie never says--only that he came +staggering up to her father's door with dead Mary in his arms, +carried her in, laid her on the bed, and went out again. They found +the blow on on her head, and when they undressed her, they found +also the bite of the wolf; and they soon guessed how it had been, +and said it was well she had died so, for it was much better than +going mad first: it was kind of Death, they said, to come and +snatch her away out of the arms of Madness. But the farmer, because +he hated Alister, and knew that Alister must have seen him running +away, gave it out, that he himself was rushing to defend Mary, and +that the blow that killed her was meant for him. Nobody however +believed him. + +"What people might think, was, however, a matter of little +consequence to Alister, for from that day he never spoke to human +being, never slept under a roof. He left his shepherding, and gave +himself to the hunting of the mad wolf: such a creature should not +be allowed to live, and he must do some good thing for Mary's sake. +Mary was so good, that any good thing done would be a thing done +for her. So he followed and followed, hunting the horrible creature +to destroy him. Some said he lived on his hate of the wolf, and +never ate anything at all. But some of the people on the hills, +when they heard he had been seen, set out of their doors at night +milk and cakes; and in the morning, sometimes, they would be gone, +and taken as if by a human being, and not an animal. + +"By and by came a strange story abroad. For a certain old woman, +whom some called a witch, and whom all allowed to have the second +sight, told that, one night late, as she was coming home from her +daughter's house, she saw Alister lying in the heather, and another +sitting with him; Alister she saw plainly with her first or bodily +eyes; but with her second eyes, in which lay the second sight, she +saw his head lying on a woman's lap--and that woman was Mary, whom +he had killed. He was fast asleep, and whether he knew what pillow +he had, she could not tell; but she saw the woman as plainly as if +with her bodily eyes,--only with the difference which there always +was, she said, and which she did not know how to describe, between +the things seen by the one pair of eyes, and the things seen by the +other. She stood and regarded them for some time, but neither +moved. It was in the twilight, and as it grew darker she could see +Alister less and less clearly, but always Mary better and +better--till at last the moon rose, and then she saw Alister again, +and Mary no more. But, through the moonlight, three times she heard +a little moan, half very glad, and half a little sad. + +"Now the people had mostly a horror of Alister, and had shunned +him--even those who did not believe him to blame for what he had +done--because of his having killed a human being, one made like +himself, and in the image of God; but when they heard the wise +woman's story, they began to feel differently towards Alister, and +to look askance upon Mary's father, whose unkindness had kept them +asunder. They said now it had all come through him, and that God +had sent the wolf to fetch Mary, that he might give her and Alister +to each other in spite of him--for God had many a way of doing a +thing, every one better than another. + +"But that did not help Alister to find the wolf. The winter came, +however, and that did help him, for the snow let him see the trail, +and follow faster. The wonder was that the animal, being mad, lived +so long; but some said that, although the wolf was mad, he was not +mad in any ordinary way--if he had been, he would indeed have been +dead long ago; he was a wolf into which an evil spirit had entered; +and had he been a domestic animal, or one for the use of man, he +would immediately have destroyed himself; but, being a wild and +blood-thirsty animal, he went on very much like his natural self, +without knowing what sort of a fellow-tenant he had with him in the +house. + +"At last, one morning in the month of December, when the snow lay +heavy on the ground, some men came upon a track which they all +agreed must be that of the wolf. They went and got their weapons, +and set out in chase. They followed, and followed, and better than +followed, and the trail led them high into the hills, wondering +much at the huge bounds with which the beast had galloped up the +steepest places. They concluded that Alister had been after him, +and that the beast knew it, and had made for the most inaccessible +spot he was acquainted with. They came at length to a point where a +bare-foot human track joined that of the wolf for a little way, and +after that they came upon it again and again. Up and up the +mountain they went--sometimes losing the track from the great +springs the wolf took--now across a great chasm which they had to +go round the head of, now up the face of a rock too steep for the +snow to lie upon, so that there was no print of his horrid feet. + +"But at last, almost at the top of the mountain, they saw before +them two dark spots in a little hollow, and when they reached it, +there was the wolf, dead in a mass of frozen blood and trampled +snow. It was a huge, gaunt, gray, meagre carcass, with the foam +frozen about its jaws, and stabbed in many places, which showed the +fight had been a close one. All the snow was beaten about, as if +with many feet, which showed still more plainly what a tussle it +had been. A little farther on lay Alister, as if asleep, stretched +at full length, with his face to the sky. He had been dead for many +hours, they thought, but the smile had not faded which his spirit +left behind as it went. All about his body were the marks of the +brute's teeth--everywhere almost except on his face. That had been +bespattered with blood, but it had been wiped away. His dirk was +lying not far off, and his skene dhu close by his hand. + +"There is but one thing more--and I think that is just the thing +that made me want to tell you the story. The men who found Alister +declared when they came home, and ever after when they told the +story--Grizzie says her grandmother used always to say so--that, +when they lifted him to bring him away, they saw in the snow the +mark of the body, deep--pressed, but only as far as the shoulders; +there was no mark of his head whatever. And when they told this to +the wise woman, she answered only,'Of coorse! of coorse!--Gien I +had been wi' ye, lads, I wad hae seen mair.' When they pressed her +to speak more plainly, she only shook her head, and muttered, +'Dull--hertit gowks!'--That's all, my lady." + +In the kitchen, things were going on even more quietly than in the +drawing-room. In front of the fire sat the English lord over his +wine; Mistress Warlock sat in her arm-chair, knitting and +dozing--between her evanescent naps wide awake, and ever and anon +sliding her eyes from the stocking which did not need her attention +to the guest who little desired it; the laird had taken his place +at the other corner, and was reading the Journal of George Fox; and +Grizzie was bustling about with less noise than she liked, and +wishing heartily she were free of his lordship, that she might get +on with her work. Scarcely a word was spoken. + +It began to grow dark; the lid of the night was closing upon them +ere half a summer-day would have been over. But it mattered little: +the snow had stayed the work of the world. Grizzie put on the +kettle for her mistress's tea. The old lady turned her forty winks +into four hundred, and slept outright, curtained in the shadows. +All at once his lordship became alive to the fact that the day was +gone, shifted uneasily in his chair, poured out a bumper of claret, +drank it off hurriedly, and hitched his chair a little nearer to +the fire. His hostess saw these movements with satisfaction: he had +appeased her personal indignation, but her soul was not hospitable +towards him, and the devil in her was gratified with the sight of +his discomposure: she hankered after talion, not waited on +penitence. Her eyes sought those of Grizzie. + +"Gang to the door, Grizzie," she said, "an' see what the nicht's +like. I'm thinkin' by the cry o' the win', it 'll be a wull mirk +again.--What think ye, laird?" + +Her son looked up from his book, where he had been beholding a +large breadth of light on the spiritual sky, and answered, somewhat +abstractedly, but with the gentle politeness he always showed her. + +"I should not wonder if it came on to snow again!" Lord Mergwain +shifted uneasily. Grizzie returned from her inspection of the +weather. + +"It's black theroot, an' dingin' 'oot, wi' great thuds o' win'," +she said, quite unaware as usual of the style of her utterance. + +"God bless me!" murmured his lordship, "what an abominable +country!" + +"Had we not better go to the drawing-room, my lord?" said the +laird. "I think, Grizzie," he went on, "you must get supper early. +--And, Grizzie," he added, rising, "mind you bring Lady Joan a cup +of tea--if your mistress will excuse her," he concluded, with a +glance to his mother. + +Mistress Warlock was longing for a talk with Grizzie, and had no +wish for Lady Joan's presence at tea. + +"An old woman is bare company for a young one, Cosmo," she said. + +His lordship sat as if he did not mean to move. + +"Will you not come, Lord Mergwain?" said the laird. "We had better +go before the night gets worse." + +"I will stay where I am." + +"Excuse me, my lord, that can hardly be. Come, I will carry your +wine. You will finish your bottle more at your ease there, knowing +you have not to move again." + +"The bottle is empty," replied his lordship, gruffly, as if +reproaching his host for not being aware of the fact, and having +another at hand to follow. + +"Then--" said the laird, and hesitated. + +"Then you'll fetch me another!" adjoined his lordship, as if +answering an unpropounded question that ought not to be put. +Seeing, however, that the laird stood in some hesitation still, he +added definitively, "I don't stir a peg without it. Get me another +bottle--another MAGNUM, I mean, and I will go at once." + +Yet a moment the laird reflected. He said to himself that the +wretched man had not had nearly so much to drink that day as he had +the day before; that he was used to soaking, and a great diminution +of his customary quantity might in its way be dangerous; and that +anyhow it was not for him to order the regimen of a passing guest, +to whom first of all he owed hospitality. + +"I will fetch it, my lord," he said, and disappeared in the +milk-cellar, from which a steep stone-stair led down to the ancient +dungeon. + +"The maister's gane wantin' a licht," muttered Grizzie; "I houp he +winna see onything." + +It was an enigmatical utterance, and angered Lord Mergwain. + +"What the deuce should he see, when he has got to feel his way with +his hands?" he snarled. + +"There's some things, my lord,'at can better affoord to come oot i' +the dark nor the licht," replied Grizzie. + +His lordship said nothing in rejoinder, but kept looking every now +and then towards the door of the milk-cellar--whether solely in +anxiety for the appearance of the magnum, may be doubtful. The +moment the laird emerged from his dive into darkness, bearing with +him the pearl-oyster of its deep, his lordship rose, proud that for +an old man he could stand so steady, and straightened himself up to +his full height, which was not great. The laird set down the bottle +on the table, and proceeded to wrap him in a plaid, that he might +not get a chill, nor heeded that his lordship, instead of showing +recognition of his care, conducted himself like an ill-conditioned +child, to whom his mother's ministrations are unwelcome. But he did +not resist, he only grumbled. As soon as the process was finished, +he caught up the first bottle, in which, notwithstanding his +assertion, he knew there was yet a glass or two, while the laird +resumed the greater burden of the second, and gave his guest an +arm, and Grizzie, leaving the door open to cast a little light on +their way, followed close behind, to see them safe in. + +When they reached the drawing-room, his lordship out of breath with +the long stair, they found Lady Joan teaching and Cosmo learning +backgammon, which they immediately abandoned until they had him in +his former chair, with a small table by him, on it the first +bottle, and the fresh one at his feet before the fire: with the +contents of one such inside him, and another coming on, he looked +more cheerful than since first he entered the house. But a +fluctuating trouble was very visible in his countenance +notwithstanding. + +A few poverty-stricken attempts at conversation followed, to which +Lord Mergwain contributed nothing. Lost in himself, he kept his +eyes fixed on the ripening bottle, waiting with heroic self-denial, +nor uttering a single audible oath, until the sound of its opening +should herald the outbursting blossom of the nightly flower of +existence. The thing hard to bear was, that there were no fresh +wine-glasses on the table--only the one he had taken care to bring +with the old bottle. + +Presently Grizzie came with the tea-things, and as she set them +down, remarked, with cunningly devised look of unconsciousness: + +"It's a gurly nicht; no a pinch o' licht; an' the win' blawin' like +deevils; the Pooer o' the air, he's oot wi' a rair, an' the snaw +rins roon' upo' sweevils." + +"What do you mean, woman? Would you drive me mad with your +gibberish?" cried his lordship, getting up, and going to the +window. + +"Ow, na, my lord!" returned Grizzie quietly; "mad's mad, but +there's waur nor mad." + +"Grizzie!" said the laird, and she did not speak again. + +Lurking in Grizzie was the suspicion, less than latent in the minds +of the few who had any memory of the old captain, that he had been +robbed as well as murdered--though nothing had ever been missed +that was known to belong to him, except indeed an odd walking-stick +he used to carry; and if so, then the property, whatever it was, +had been taken to the loss of his rightful heir, Warlock o' +Glenwarlock. Hence mainly arose Grizzie's desire to play upon the +fears of the English lord; for might he not be driven by terror to +make restitution? Therefore, although, obedient to the will of her +master, she left the room in silence, she cast on the old man, as +she turned away, a look, which, in spite of the wine he had drunk, +and the wine he hoped to drink, he felt freeze his very vitals--a +look it was of inexplicable triumph, and inarticulate doom. + +The final effect of it on her victim, however, was different from +what she intended. For it roused suspicion. What if, he thought +with himself, he was the victim of a conspiracy? What if the +something frightful that befell him the night before, of which he +had but a vague recollection, had been contrived and executed by +the people of the house? This horrible old hag might remember +else-forgotten things? What if they had drugged his wine? the first +half of the bottle he had yesterday was decanted!--But the one he +had just drunk had not been touched! and this fresh one before the +fire should not be carried from his sight! he would not take his +eyes off it for a moment! he was safe so far as these were +concerned! only if after all--if there should be no difference--if +something were to happen again all the same--ah, then indeed!--then +it would only be so much the worse!--Better let them decant the +bottle, and then he would have the drug to fall back upon! +Just as he heard the loud bang of Grizzie's closure of the great +door, the wind rushed all at once against the house, with a +tremendous bellow, that threatened to drive the windows into the +room. An immediate lull followed, through which as instantly came +strange sounds, as of a distant staccato thunder. The moment the +laird heard the douf thuds, he started to his feet, and made for +the door, and Cosmo rose to follow. + +"Stop! stop!" shouted Lord Mergwain, in a quavering, yet, through +terror, imperative voice, and looked as if his hair would have +stood on end, only that it was a wig. + +Lady Joan gave Cosmo a glance of entreaty: the shout was +ineffectual, the glance was not. The laird scarcely heard his +visitor's cry, and hastened from the room, taking huge strides with +his long thin legs; but Cosmo resumed his seat as if nothing were +the matter. + +Lord Mergwain was trembling visibly; his jaw shook, and seemed +ready to drop. + +"Don't be alarmed, my lord," said Cosmo; "it is only one of the +horses kicking against his stall." + +"But why should the brute kick?" said his lorship, putting his hand +to his chin, and doing his best to hide his agitation. + +"My father will tell us. He will soon set things right. He knows +all about horses. Jolly may have thrown his leg over his halter, +and got furious. He's rather an ill-tempered horse." + +Lord Mergwain swallowed a great glass of wine, the last of the +first bottle, and gave a little shiver. + +"It's cold! cold!" he said. + +The wine did not seem to be itself somehow this evening! + +The game interrupted, Lady Joan forgot it, and stared into the +fire. Cosmo gave his eyes a glorious holiday on her beautiful face. + +It was some time before the laird returned. He brought the news +that one of the strange horses was very ill. + +"I thought he looked bad this morning," said Cosmo. + +"Only it's not the same horse, my boy," answered his father. "I +believe he has been ill all day; the state of the other has +prevented its being noticed. He was taken suddenly with violent +pain; and now he lies groaning. They are doing what they can for +him, but I fear, in this weather, he will not recover. Evidently he +has severe inflammation; the symptoms are those of the worst form +of the disease now about." + +"Hustled here in the dark to die like a rat!" muttered his +lordship. + +"Don't make a trap of the old place, my lord," said the laird +cheerily. "The moment the roads will permit, I will see that you +have horses." + +"I don't doubt you'll be glad enough to get rid of me." + +"We shall not regret your departure so much, my lord, as if we had +been able to make your lordship comfortable," said the laird. + +With that there came another great howling onset of wind. Lord +Mergwain started almost to his feet, but sat down instantly, and +said with some calmness, + +"I should be obliged, Mr. Warlock, if you would order a wine-glass +or two for me. I am troublesome, I know, but I like to change my +glass; and the wine will be the worse every moment more it stands +there.--I wish you would drink! We should make a night of it." + +"I beg your pardon, my lord," said the laird. "What was I thinking +of!--Cosmo, run and fetch wine-glasses--and the cock-screw." + +But while Cosmo was returning, he heard the battery of iron shoes +recommence, and ran to the stable. Just as he reached the door of +it, the horse half reared, and cast himself against the side of his +stall. With a great crash it gave way, and he fell upon it, and lay +motionless. + +"He's deid!" cried one of the men, and Cosmo ran to tell his +father. + +While he was gone, the time seemed to the toper endless. But the +longer he could be kept from his second magnum, the laird thought +it the better, and was not troubled at Cosmo's delay. + +A third terrible blast, fiercer and more imperious than those that +preceded it, shook the windows as a dog shakes a rat: the house +itself it could shake no more than a primeval rock. The next minute +Cosmo entered, saying the horse was dead. + +"What a beastly country!" growled his lordship. + +But the wine that was presently gurgling from the short neck of the +apoplectic magnum, soon began to console him. He liked this bottle +better than the last, and some composure returned to him. + +The laird fetched a book of old ballads, and offered to read one or +two to make the time pass. Lord Mergwain gave a scornful grunt; but +Lady Joan welcomed the proposal: the silent worship of the boy, +again at her feet, was not enough to make her less than very weary. +For more than an hour, the laird read ballad after ballad; but +nobody, not even himself, attended much--the old lord not at all. +But the time passed. His lordship grew sleepy, began to nod, and +seemed to forget his wine. At length he fell asleep. But when the +laird would have made him more comfortable, with a yell of defiance +he started to his feet wide awake. Coming to himself at once, he +tried to laugh, and said from a child he had been furious when +waked suddenly. Then he settled himself in the chair, and fell fast +asleep. + +Still the night wore on, and supper-time came. His lordship woke, +but would have no supper, and took to his bottle again. Lady Joan +and Cosmo went to the kitchen, and the laird had his porridge +brought to the drawing-room. + +At length it was time to go to bed. Lady Joan retired. The laird +would not allow Cosmo to sit up another night, and he went also. +The lord and the laird were left together, the one again asleep, +and dreaming who knows what! the other wide awake, but absorbed in +the story of a man whose thoughts, fresh from above, were life to +himself, and a mockery to his generation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THAT SAME NIGHT. + + +The wind had now risen to a hurricane--a rage of swiftness. The +house was like a rock assaulted by the waves of an ocean-tempest. +The laird had closed all the shutters, and drawn the old curtains +across them: through windows and shutters, the curtains waved in +the penetrating blasts. The sturdy old house did not shake, for +nothing under an earthquake could have made it tremble. The snow +was fast gathering in sloped heaps on the window-sills, on the +frames, on every smallest ledge where it could lie. In the midst of +the blackness and the roaring wind, the house was being covered +with spots of silent whiteness, resting on every projection, every +roughness even, of the building. In his own house as he was, a +sense of fierce desolation, of foreign invasion and siege, took +possession of the soul of the laird. He had made a huge fire, and +had heaped up beside it great store of fuel, but, though his body +was warm and likely to be warm, his soul inside it felt the +ravaging cold outside--remorseless, and full of mock, the ghastly +power of negation and unmaking. He had got together all the screens +he could find, and with them inclosed the fireplace, so that they +sat in a citadel within a fortress. By the fire he had placed for +his lordship the antique brocade-covered sofa, that he might lie +down when he pleased, and himself occupied the great chair on the +other side. From the centre of this fire-defended heart, the room +itself outside looked cold and waste: it demanded almost courage to +leave the stockade of the screens, and venture into the campaign of +the floor beyond. And then the hell of wind and snow that raved +outside that! and the desert of air surrounding it, in which the +clouds that garnered the snow were shaken by mad winds, whirled and +tossed and buffeted, to make them yield their treasures! Lord +Mergwain heard it, and drank. The laird listened, and lifted up his +heart. Not much passed between them. The memories of the English +lord were not such as he felt it fit to share with the dull old +Scotchman beside him, who knew nothing of the world--knew neither +how pitilessly selfish, nor how meanly clever a man of this world +might be, and bate not a jot of his self admiration! Men who salute +a neighbour as a man of the world, paying him the greatest +compliment they know in acknowledging him of their kind, recoil +with a sort of fear from the man alien to their thoughts, and +impracticable for their purposes. They say "He is beyond me," and +despise him. So is there a great world beyond them with which they +hold a frightful relationship--that of unrecognized, unattempted +duty! Lord Mergwain regarded the odd-looking laird as a fool; the +laird looked on him with something of the pity an angel must feel +for the wretch to whom he is sent to give his last chance, ere +sorer measures be taken in which angels are not the ministers. + +But the wine was at last beginning to work its too oft repeated and +now nearly exhausted influence on the sagging and much frayed +nerves of the old man. A yellowish remnant of withered rose began +to smear his far-off west: he dared not look to the east; that lay +terribly cold and gray; and he smiled with a little curl of his lip +now and then, as he thought of this and that advantage he had had +in the game of life, for alas! it had never with him risen to the +dignity of a battle. He was as proud of a successful ruse, as a +hero of a well fought and well won field. "I had him there!" stood +with him for the joy of work done and salvation wrought. It was a +repulsive smile--one that might move even to hatred the onlooker +who was not yet divine enough to let the outrushing waves of pity +swamp his human judgment. It only curled the cruel-looking upper +lip, while the lower continued to hang thick, and sensual, and +drawn into a protuberance in the middle. + +Gradually he seemed to himself, as he drank, to be recovering the +common sense of his self-vaunted, vigorous nature. He assured +himself that now he saw plainly the truth and fact of things--that +his present outlook and vision were the true, and the horrors of +the foregone night the weak soul-gnawing fancies bred of a +disordered stomach. He was a man once more, and beyond the sport of +a foolish imagination. + +Alas for the man who draws his courage from wine! the same ALAS for +the man whose health is its buttress! the touch of a pin on this or +that spot of his mortal house, will change him from a leader of +armies, or a hunter of tigers in the jungle, to one who shudders at +a centipede! That courage also which is mere insensibility crumbles +at once before any object of terror able to stir the sluggish +imagination. There is a fear, this for one, that for another, which +can appall the stoutest who is not one with the essential. + +Lord Mergwain emerged from the influence of his imagination and his +fears, and went under that of his senses and himself. He took his +place beside the Christian in his low, common moods, when the +world, with its laws and its material insistence, presses upon him, +and he does not believe that God cares for the sparrow, or can +possibly count the hairs of his head; when the divine power, and +rule, and means to help, seem nowhere but in a passed-away fancy of +the hour of prayer. Only the Christian is then miserable, and Lord +Mergwain was relieved; for did he not then come to himself? and did +he know anything better to arrive at than just that wretched self +of his? + +A glass or two more, and he laughed at the terror by night. He had +been a thorough fool not to go to bed like other people, instead of +sitting by the fire with a porridge-eating Scotchman, who regarded +him as one of the wicked, afraid of the darkness. The thought may +have passed from his mind to that of his host, for the self-same +moment the laird spoke: + +"Don't you think you had better go to bed when you have finished +your bottle, my lord?" + +With the words, a cold swell, as from the returning tide of some +dead sea, so long ebbed that men had ploughed and sown and built +within its bed, stole in, swift and black, filling every cranny of +the old man's conscious being. + +"My God!" he cried; "I thought better of you than that, laird! I +took you for a man of your word! You promised to sit up with me!" + +"I did, my lord, and am ready to keep my promise. I only thought +you looked as if you might have changed your mind; and in such a +night as this, beyond a doubt, bed is the best place for everybody +that has got one to go to." + +"That depends," answered his lordship, and drank. + +The laird held his peace for a time, then spoke again: + +"Would your lordship think me rude if I were to take a book?" + +"I don't want a noise. It don't go well with old wine like this: +such wine wants attention! It would spoil it. No, thank you." + +"I did not propose to read aloud, my lord--only to myself." + +"Oh! That alters the matter! That I would by no means object to. I +am but poor company!" + +The laird got his "Journal," and was soon lost in the communion of +a kindred soul. + +By and by, the boat of his lordship's brain was again drifting +towards the side of such imagination as was in him. The half-tide +restoring the physical mean was past, and intoxication was setting +in. He began to cast uneasy glances towards the book the laird was +reading. The old folio had a look of venerable significance about +it, and whether it called up some association of childhood, +concerned in some fearful fancy, or dreamfully he dreaded the +necromancer's art, suggested by late experience, made him uneasy. + +"What's that you are reading?" he said at length. "It looks like a +book of magic." + +"On the contrary," replied the laird, "it is a religious book of +the very best sort." + +"Oh, indeed! Ah! I have no objection to a little religion--in its +own place. There it is all right. I never was one of those +mockers--those Jacobins, those sans-culottes! Arrogant fools they +always seemed to me!" + +"Would your lordship like to hear a little of the book, then?" + +"No, no; by no means! Things sacred ought not to be mixed up with +things common--with such an uncommon bottle of wine, for instance. +I dictate to no one, but for my own part I keep my religion for +church. That is the proper place for it, and there you are in the +mood for it. Do not mistake me; it is out of respect I decline." + +He drank, and the laird dropt back into the depths of his volume. +The night wore on. His lordship did not drink fast. There was no +hope of another bottle, and the wine must cover the period of his +necessity: he dared not encounter the night without the sustaining +knowledge of its presence. At last he began to nod, and by slow +degrees sank on the sofa. Very softly the laird covered him, and +went back to his book. + +The storm went raging on, as if it would never cease. The sense of +desolation it produced in the heart of the laird when he listened +to it was such, that with an inward shudder he closed his mind +against it, and gave all his attention to George Fox, and the +thoughts he roused. The minutes crawled slowly along. He lost all +measure of time, because he read with delight, and at last he found +himself invaded by that soft physical peace which heralds the +approach of sleep. He roused himself; he wanted to read: he was in +one of the most interesting passages he had yet come to. But +presently the sweet enemy was again within his outworks. Once more +he roused himself, heard the storm raving on--over buried graves +and curtained beds, heedless of human heeding--fell a-listening to +its shriek-broken roar, and so into a soundless and dreamless +sleep. + +He woke so suddenly that for a moment he knew himself only for +somebody he knew. There lay upon him the weight of an indefinable +oppression--the horror of a darkness too vague to be combated. The +fire had burned low, and his very bones seemed to shiver. The +candle-flames were down in the sockets of the candlesticks, and the +voice of the storm was like a scream of victory. Had the cold then +won its way into the house? Was it having its deathly will of them +all? He cast his eyes on his guest. Sleeping still, he half lay, +half leaned in the corner of the sofa, breathing heavily. His face +was not to be well seen, because of the flapping and flickering of +the candle-flames, and the shadows they sent waving huge over all, +like the flaunting of a black flag. Through the flicker and the +shadow the laird was still peering at him, when suddenly, without +opening his eyes, the old man raised himself to a sitting +posture--all of a piece, like a figure of wood lifted from behind. +The laird then saw his face, and upon it the expression as of one +suffering from some horrible nightmare--so terrified was it, so +wrathful, so disgusted, all in one--and rose in haste to rouse him +from a drunken dream. But ere he reached him he opened his eyes, +and his expression changed--not to one of relief, but to utter +collapse, as if the sleep-dulled horrors of the dream had but grown +real to him as he woke. His under lip trembled like a dry yellow +leaf in a small wind; his right arm rose slowly from the shoulder +and stuck straight out in the direction of his host, while his hand +hung from the wrist; and he stared as upon one loosed from hell to +speak of horrors. But it did not seem to the laird that, although +turned straight towards him, his eyes rested on him; they did not +appear to be focused for him, but for something beyond him. It was +like the stare of one demented, and it invaded--possessed the +laird. A physical terror seized him. He felt his gaze returning +that of the man before him, like to like, as from a mirror. He felt +the skin of his head contracting; his hair was about to stand on +end! The spell must be broken! He forced himself forward a step to +lay his hand on Lord Mergwain, and bring him to himself. But his +lordship uttered a terrible cry, betwixt a scream and a yell, and +sank back on the sofa. The same instant the laird was himself +again, and sprang to him. + +Lord Mergwain lay with his mouth wide open, and the same look with +which they found him the night before prostrate in the +guest-chamber. His arm stuck straight out from his body. The laird +pressed it down, but it rose again as soon as he left it. He could +not for a moment doubt the man was dead; there was that about him +that assured him of it, but what it was he could not have told. + +The first thought that came to him was, that his daughter must not +see him so. He tied up his jaw, laid him straight on the sofa, +lighted fresh candles, left them burning by the dead, and went to +call Grizzie: a doctor was out of the question. + +He felt his way down the dark stair, and fought it through the wind +to the kitchen, whence he climbed to Grizzie's room. He found she +was already out of bed, and putting on her clothes. She had not +been asleep, she said, and added something obscure, which the laird +took to mean that she had been expecting a summons. + +"Whan Ane's oot, there's nane in!" she said. "Hoo's the auld +reprobat, laird--an' I beg yer pardon?" + +"He's gane til's accoont, Grizzie," answered the laird, in a +trembling voice. + +"Say ye sae, laird?" returned Grizzie with perfect calmness. "Oh, +sirs!" + +Not a single remark did she then offer. If she was cool, she was +not irreverent before the thought of the awful thing that lay +waiting her. + +"Ye winna wauk the hoose, will ye, sir?" she added presently. "I +dinna think it wad be ony service to died or livin'." + +"I'll no du that, Grizzie; but come ye an' luik at him," said the +laird, "an' tell me what ye think. I makna a doobt he's deid, but +gien ye hae ony, we'll du what we can; an' we'll sit up wi' the +corp thegither, an' lat yoong an' auld tak the rist they hae mair +need o' nor the likes o' you an' me." + +It was a proud moment in Grizzie's life, one never forgotten, when +the laird addressed her thus. She was ready in a moment, and they +went together. + +"The prince is haein' his ain w'y the nicht!" she murmured to +herself, as they bored their way through the wind to the great +door. + +When she came where the corpse lay, she stood for some moments +looking down upon it without uttering a sound, nor was there any +emotion in the fixed gaze of her eye. She had been brought up in a +stern and nowise pitiful school. She made neither solemn +reflection, nor uttered hope which her theology forbade her to +cherish. + +"Ye think wi' me 'at he's deid--dinna ye, Grizzie?" said the laird, +in a voice that seemed to himself to intrude on the solemn silence. + +She removed the handkerchief, and the jaw fell. + +"He's gane til's accoont," she said. "It's a great amoont; an' mair +on ae side nor he'll weel bide. It's sair eneuch, laird, whan we +hae to gang at the Lord's call, but whan the messenger comes frae +the laich yett (low gate), we maun jist lat gang an' forget. But +sae lang's he's a man, we maun do what we can--an' that's what we +did last nicht; sae I'll rin an' get het watter." + +She did so, and they used every means they could think of for his +recovery, but at length gave it up, heaped him over with blankets, +for the last chance of spontaneous revival, and sitting down, +awaited the slow-travelling, feeble dawn. + +After they had sat in silence for nearly an hour, the laird spoke: + +"We'll read a psalm thegither, Grizzie," he said. + +"Ay, du ye that, laird. It'll haud them awa' for the time bein', +though it can profit but little i' the him 'er en'." + +The laird drew from his pocket a small, much worn bible which had +been his Marion's, and by the body of the dead sinner, in the heart +of the howling storm and the waste of the night, his voice, +trembling with a strange emotion, rose upborne upon the glorious +words of the ninety-first psalm. + +When he ended, they were aware that the storm had begun to yield, +and by slow degrees it sank as the morning came on. Till the first +faintest glimmer of dawn began to appear nothing more was said +between them. But then Grizzie rose in haste, like one that had +overslept herself, and said: + +"I maun to my wark, laird--what think ye?" + +The laird rose also, and by a common impulse they went and looked +at the corpse--for corpse it now was, beyond all question, cold as +the snow without. After a brief, low-voiced conference, they +proceeded to carry it to the guest-chamber, where they laid it upon +the bed, and when Grizzie had done all that custom required, left +it covered with a sheet, dead in the room where it dared not sleep, +a mound cold and white as any snow-wreath outside. It looked as if +Winter had forced his way into the house, and left this one drift, +in signal of his capture. Grizzie went about her duties, and the +laird back to his book. + +A great awe fell upon Cosmo when he heard what visit and what +departure had taken place in the midst of the storm and darkness. +Lady Joan turned white as the dead, and spoke not a word. A few +tears rolled from the luminous dark of her eyes, like the dew +slow-gathering in a night of stars, but she was very still. The +bond between her and her father had not been a pleasant one; she +had not towards him that reverence which so grandly heightens love. +She had loved him pitifully--perhaps, dreadful thought! a little +contemptuously. The laird persuaded her not to see the body; taking +every charge concerning it. + +All that day things went on in the house much as usual, with a +little more silence where had been much. The wind lay moveless on +the frozen earth; the sun shone cold as a diamond; and the fresh +snow glittered and gleamed and sparkled like a dead sea of +lightning. + +The laird was just thinking which of his men to send to the +village, when the door opened and in came Agnes. Grannie had sent +her, she said, to enquire after them. Grannie had had a troubled +night, and the moment she woke began to talk about the laird, and +his visitors, and what the storm must have been round lonely Castle +Warlock. The drifts were tremendous, she said, but she had made her +way without much difficulty. So the laird, partly to send Cosmo +from the house of death into the world of life, told him to go with +Aggie, and give directions to the carpenter, for the making of a +coffin. + +How long the body might have to lie with them, no one could tell, +for the storm had ceased in a hard frost, and there could be no +postal communication for many days. The laird judged it better, +therefore, as soon as the shell arrived, to place the body in a +death-chapel prepared for it by nature herself. With their spades +he and Cosmo fashioned the mound, already hollowed in sport, into +the shape of a hugh sarcophagus, then opened wide the side of it, +to receive the coffin as into a sepulchre in a rock. The men +brought it, laid it in, and closed the entrance again with snow. +Where Cosmo's hollow man of light had shone, lay the body of the +wicked old nobleman. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +A WINTER IDYLL. + + +Lady Joan the same day wrote to her brother Borland, now Mergwain, +telling him what had taken place. But it must be some time before +she received his answer, for the post from England reached the +neighbouring city but intermittently, and was there altogether +arrested, so far as Howglen and Muir o' Warlock were concerned. The +laird told her she must have patience, and assured her that to them +her presence was welcome. + +And now began for Cosmo an episode of enchantment, as wondrous as +any dream of tree-top, or summer wave city--for if it was not so +full of lighter marvel around, it had at the heart of it a deeper +marvel, namely a live and beautiful lady. + +She was a girl of nearly eighteen, but looked older--shapely, +strong, and graceful. But both her life-consciousness and her +spirits--in some only do the words mean the same thing--had been +kept down by the family relations in which she found herself. Her +father loved her with what love was in him, and therefore was +jealous; trusted, and therefore enslaved her; could make her +useful, and therefore oppressed her. Since his health began to +decline he would go nowhere without her, though he spoke seldom a +pleasant, and often a very unpleasant word to her. He never praised +her to her face, but swore deeply to her excellence in ears that +cared little to hear of it. When at home she must always be within +his reach, if not within his call; but he was far from slow to +anger with her, and she dreaded his anger, not so much from love or +fear as from nicety, because of the ugly things he would say when +he was offended with her. One hears of ruling by love and ruling by +fear, but this man ruled by disgust. At home he lived much as we +have seen him in the house of another, cared for nobody's comfort +but his own, and was hard to keep in good humour--such good humour +as was possible to him. He paid no attention to business or +management: his estates had long been under trustees; lolled about +in his room, diverting himself with a horrible monkey which he +taught ugly tricks; drank almost constantly; and would throw dice +by himself for an hour together--doing what he could, which was +little, towards the poor object of killing Time. He kept a poor +larder but a rich cellar; almost always without money, he yet +contrived to hold his bins replenished, and that from the farther +end: he might have been expecting to live to a hundred and twenty +for of visitors he had none, except an occasional time-belated +companion of his youth, whom the faint, muddled memories of old +sins would bring to his door, when they would spend a day or two +together, soaking, and telling bad stories, at times hardly +restrained until Joan left the room--that is, if her brother was +not present, before whom her father was on his good behaviour. + +The old man was in bad repute with the neighbours, and they never +called upon him--which they would have found it hard to justify, +seeing some who were not better were quite respectable. No doubt he +was the dilapidated old reprobate they counted him, but if he had +not made himself poor, they would have found his morals no business +of theirs. They pitied the daughter, or at least spoke pityingly of +her, but could not for her sake countenance the father! Neglecting +their duty towards her, they began to regard her with a blame which +was the shadow of their neglect, thinking of her as defiled in her +father's defilement. The creeping things--those which God hath not +yet cleansed--call the pure things unclean. But it was better to be +so judged than to run the risk of growing after the pattern of her +judges. I suspect the man who leads a dissolute, and the man who +leads a commonly selfish life, will land from the great jump pretty +nearly in the same spot. What if those who have despised each the +other's sins, are set down to stare at them together, until each +finds his own iniquity to be hateful. + +Of the latter, the respectably selfish class, was Borland her +brother. He knew his presence a protection to his sister, yet gave +himself no trouble to look after her. As the apple of his eye would +he cherish the fluid in which he hoped to discover some secret +process of nature; but he was not his sister's keeper, and a drop +of mud more or less cast into her spirit was to him of no +consequence. Yet he would as soon have left a woman he wanted to +marry within reach of the miasms that now and then surrounded Joan, +as unwarned in the dark by the cage of a tiger. + +At home, therefore, because of the poverty of the family, the +ill-repute of her father, and the pride and self-withdrawal of her +brother, she led a lonely life where everything around her was left +to run wild. The lawn was more of a meadow than a lawn, and the +park a mere pasture for cattle. The shrubbery was an impassable +tangle, and the flower garden a wilderness. She could do nothing to +set things right, and lived about the place like a poor relation. +At school, which she left at fifteen, she had learned nothing so as +to be of any vital use to her--possibly left it a little less +capable than she went. For some of her natural perceptions could +hardly fail to be blunted by the artificial, false, and selfish +judgments and regards which had there surrounded her. Without a +mother, without a companion, she had to find what solace, what +pastime she could. In the huge house there was not a piano fit to +play upon; and her only source of in-door amusement was a library +containing a large disproportion of books in old French bindings, +with much tarnished gilding on the backs. But a native purity of +soul kept her lovely, and capable of becoming lovelier. + +[Illustration: COSMO AND LADY JOAN CLIMBING.] + +The mystery of all mysteries is the upward tendency of so many +souls through so much that clogs and would defile their wings, +while so many others SEEM never even to look up. Then, having so +begun with the dust, how do these ever come to raise their eyes to +the hills? The keenest of us moral philosophers are but poor, +mole-eyed creatures! One day, I trust, we shall laugh at many a +difficulty that now seems insurmountable, but others will keep +rising behind them. Lady Joan did not like ugly things, and so +shrank from evil things. She was the less in danger from liberty, +because of the disgust which certain tones and words of her father +had repeatedly occasioned her. She learned self-defence early--and +alone, without even a dog to keep her company, and help her to the +laws of the world outside herself. + +With none of the conventionalities of society, Lady Joan saw no +reason for making a difficulty when, the day after that on which +her father died, Cosmo proposed a walk in the snow. He saw her +properly provided for what seemed to her an adventure--with short +skirts, and stockings over her shoes--and they set out together, in +the brilliant light of a sun rapidly declining toward the western +horizon, though it had but just passed the low noon. The moment she +stepped from the threshold, Joan was invaded by an almost giddy +sense of freedom. The keen air and the impeding snow sent the warm +blood to her cheeks, and her heart beat as if new-born into a +better world. She was annoyed with herself, but in vain she called +herself heartless; in vain she accused herself of indifference to +the loss of her father, said to herself she was a worthless girl: +there was the sun in the sky--not warm, but dazzling-bright and +shining straight into her very being! while the air, instinct with +life, was filling her lungs like water drunk by a thirsty soul, and +making her heart beat like the heart of Eve when first she woke +alive, and felt what her Maker had willed! Life indeed was good! it +was a blessed thing for the eyes to behold the sun!--Let death do +what it can, there is just one thing it cannot destroy, and that is +life. Never in itself, only in the unfaith of man, does life +recognize any sway of death.--A fresh burst of healthy vigour +seemed born to answer each fresh effort. Over the torrent they +walked on a bridge of snow, and listening could hear, far down, +below the thick white blanket, the noise of its hidden rushing. +Away and up the hill they went; the hidden torrent of Joan's blood +flowed clearer; her heart sang to her soul; and everything began to +look like a thing in a story--herself a princess, and her attendant +a younger brother, travelling with her to meet the tide of +in-flowing lovely adventure. Such a brother was a luxury she had +never had--very different from an older one. He talked so strangely +too--now like a child, now like an old man! She felt a charm in +both, but understood neither. Capable, through confidence in his +father, of receiving wisdom far beyond what he could have thought +out for himself, he sometimes said things because he understood +them, which seemed to most who heard them beyond his years. Some +people only understand enough of a truth to reject it, but Cosmo's +reception by faith turned to sight, as all true faith does at last, +and formed a soil for thought more immediately his own. + +They had been climbing a steep ascent, very difficult in the snow, +and had at length reached the top, where they stood for a moment +panting, with another ascent beyond them. + +"Aren't you always wanting to climb and climb, Lady Joan?" said the +boy. + +"Call me Joan, and I will answer you." + +"Then, Joan,--how kind you are! Don't you always want to be getting +up?--up higher than you are?" + +"No; I don't think I do." + +"I believe you do, only you don't know it. When I get on the top of +yon hill there, it always seems to me such a little way up!--and +Mr. Simon tells me I should feel much the same, if it were the top +of the highest peak in the Himmalays." + +Lady Joan did not reply, and Cosmo too was silent for a time. + +"Don't you think," he began again, "though life is so very good--to +me especially with you here--you would get very tired if you +thought you had to live in this world always--for ever and ever and +ever, and never, never get out of it?" + +"No, I don't," said Joan. "I can't say I find life so nice as you +think it, but one keeps hoping it may turn to something better." + +She was amused with what she counted childish talk for a boy of his +years--so manly too beyond his years! + +"That is very curious!" he returned. "Now I am quite happy; but +this moment I should feel just in a prison, if I thought I should +never get to another world; for what you can never get out of, is +your prison--isn't it?" + +"Yes--but if you don't want to get out?" + +"Ah, that is true! but as soon as that comes to a prisoner, it is a +sign that he is worn out, and has not life enough in him to look +the world in the face. I was talking about it the other day with +Mr. Simon, else I shouldn't have got it so plain. The blue roof so +high above us there, is indeed very different from the stone vault +of a prison, for there is no stop or end to it. But if you can +never get away from under it, never get off the floor at the bottom +of it, I feel as if it might almost as well be something solid that +held me in. There would be no promise in the stars then: they look +now like promises, don't they? I do not believe God would ever show +us a thing he did not mean to give us." + +"You are a very odd boy, Cosmo. I am almost afraid to listen to +you. You say such presumptuous things!" + +Cosmo laughed a little gentle laugh. + +"How can you love God, Joan, and be afraid to speak before him? I +should no more dream of his being angry with me for thinking he +made me for great and glad things, and was altogether generous +towards me, than I could imagine my father angry with me for +wishing to be as wise and as good as he is, when I know it is wise +and good he most wants me to be." + +"Ah, but he is your father, you know, and that is very different!" + +"I know it is very different--God is so much, much more my father +than is the laird of Glenwarlock! He is so much more to me, and so +much nearer to me, though my father is the best father that ever +lived! God, you know, Joan, God is more than anybody knows what to +say about. Sometimes, when I am lying in my bed at night, my heart +swells and swells in me, that I hardly know how to bear it, with +the thought that here I am, come out of God, and yet not OUT of +him--close to the very life that said to everything BE, and it was! +--you think it strange that I talk so?" + +"Rather, I must confess! I don't believe it can be a good thing at +your age to think so much about religion. There is a time for +everything. You talk like one of those good little children in +books that always die--at least I have heard of such books--I never +saw any of them." + +Cosmo laughed again. + +"Which of us is the merrier--you or me? Which of us is the +stronger, Joan? The moment I saw you, I thought you looked like one +that hadn't enough of something--as if you weren't happy; but if +you knew that the great beautiful person we call God, was always +near you, it would be impossible for you to go on being sad." + +Joan gave a great sigh: her heart knew its own bitterness, and +there was little joy in it for a stranger to intermeddle with. But +she said to herself the boy would be a gray-haired man before he +was twenty, and began to imagine a mission to help him out of these +morbid fancies. + +"You must surely understand, Cosmo," she said, "that, while we are +in this world, we must live as people of this world, not of +another." + +"But you can't mean that the people of this world are banished from +Him who put them in it! He is all the same, in this world and in +every other. If anything makes us happy, it must make us much +happier to know it for a bit of frozen love--for the love that +gives is to the gift as water is to snow. Ah, you should hear our +torrent sing in summer, and shout in the spring! The thought of God +fills me so full of life that I want to go and do something for +everybody. I am never miserable. I don't think I shall be when my +father dies." + +"Oh, Cosmo!--with such a good father as yours! I am shocked." + +Her words struck a pang into her own heart, for she felt as if she +had compared his father and hers, over whom she was not miserable. +Cosmo turned, and looked at her. The sun was close upon the +horizon, and his level rays shone full on the face of the boy. + +"Lady Joan," he said slowly, and with a tremble in his voice, "I +should just laugh with delight to have to die for my father. But if +he were taken from me now, I should be so proud of him, I should +have no room to be miserable. As God makes me glad though I cannot +see him, so my father would make me glad though I could not see +him. I cannot see him now, and yet I am glad because my father +IS--away down there in the old castle; and when he is gone from me, +I shall be glad still, for he will be SOMEWHERE all the same--with +God as he is now. We shall meet again one day, and run at each +other." + +It was an odd phrase with which he ended, but Lady Joan did not +laugh. + +The sun was down, and the cold, blue gray twilight came creeping +from the east. They turned and walked home, through a luminous +dusk. It would not be dark all night, though the moon did not rise +till late, for the snow gave out a ghostly radiance. Surely it must +be one of those substances that have the power of drinking and +hoarding the light of the sun, that with their memories of it they +may thin the darkness! I suspect everything does it more or less. +Far below were the lights of the castle, and across an unbroken +waste of whiteness the gleams of the village. The air was keen as +an essence of points and edges, and the thought of the kitchen fire +grew pleasant. Cosmo took Joan's hand, and down the hill they ran, +swiftly descending what they had toilsomely climbed. + +As she ran, the thought that one of those lights was burning by the +body of her father, rebuked Joan afresh. She was not glad, and she +could not be sorry! If Cosmo's father were to die, Cosmo would be +both sorry and glad! But the boy turned his face, ever and again as +they ran, up to hers--she was a little taller than he--and his +every look comforted her. An attendant boy-angel he seemed, whose +business it was to rebuke and console her. If he were her brother, +she would be well content never more to leave the savage place! For +the strange old man in the red night-cap was such a gentleman! and +this odd boy, absolutely unnatural in his goodness, was +nevertheless charming! She did not yet know that goodness is the +only nature. She regarded it as a noble sort of disease--as +something at least which it was possible to have too much of. She +had not a suspicion that goodness and nothing else is life and +health--that what the universe demands of us is to be good boys and +girls. + +To judge religion we must have it--not stare at it from the bottom +of a seeming interminable ladder. When she reached the door, she +felt as if waking out of a dream, in which she had been led along +strange paths by a curious angel. But not to himself was Cosmo like +an angel! For indeed he was a strong, viguorous, hopeful, trusting +boy of God's in this world, and would be just such a boy in the +next--one namely who did his work, and was ready for whatever was +meant to come. + +When, from all that world of snow outside, Joan entered the kitchen +with its red heart of fire, she knew for a moment how a little bird +feels when creeping under the wing of his mother. Those old +Hebrews--what poets they were! Holy and homely and daring, they +delighted in the wings of the Almighty; but the Son of the Father +made the lovely image more homely still, likening himself to the +hen under whose wings the chickens would not creep for all her +crying and calling. Then first was Joan aware of simple confidence, +of safety and satisfaction and loss of care; for the old man in the +red nightcap would see to everything! Nought would go amiss where +he was at the head of affairs! And hardly was she seated when she +felt a new fold of his protection about her: he told her he had had +her room changed, that she might be near his mother and Grizzie, +and not have to go out to reach it. + +Cosmo heard with delight that his father had given up his room to +Lady Joan, and would share his. To sleep with his father was one of +the greatest joys the world held for him. Such a sense of safety +and comfort--of hen's wings--was nowhere else to be had on the face +of the great world! It was the full type of conscious well-being, +of softness and warmth and peace in the heart of strength. His +father was to him a downy nest inside a stone-castle. + +They all sat together round the kitchen fire. The laird fell into a +gentle monologue, in which, to Joan's thinking, he talked even more +strangely than Cosmo. Things born in the fire and the smoke, like +the song of the three holy children, issued from the furnace +clothed in softest moonlight. Joan said to herself it was plain +where the boy got his oddity; but what she called oddity was but +sense from a deeper source than she knew the existence of. He read +them also passages of the book then occupying him so much: Joan +wondered what attraction such a jumble of good words and no sense +could have for a man so capable in ordinary affairs. Then came +supper; and after that, for the first time in her life, Joan was +present when a man had the presumption to speak to his Maker direct +from his own heart, without the mediation of a book. This she found +odder than all the rest; she had never even heard of such a thing! +So peculiar, so unfathomable were his utterances, that it never +occurred to her the man might be meaning something; farther from +her still was the thought, that perhaps God liked to hear him, was +listening to him and understanding him, and would give him the +things he asked. She heard only an extraordinary gibberish, +supposed suitable to a religious observance--family prayers, she +thought it must be! She felt confused, troubled, ashamed--so +grievously out of her element that she never knew until they rose, +that the rest were kneeling while she sat staring into the fire. +Then she felt guilty and shy, but as nobody took any notice, +persuaded herself they had not observed. The unpleasantness of all +this, however, did not prevent her from saying to herself as she +went to bed, "Oh, how delightful it would be to live in a house +where everybody understood, and loved, and thought about everybody +else!" She did not know that she was wishing for nothing more, and +something a little less, than the kingdom of heaven--the very thing +she thought the laird and Cosmo so strange for troubling their +heads about. If men's wishes are not always for what the kingdom of +heaven would bring them, their miseries at least are all for the +lack of that kingdom. + +That night Joan dreamed herself in a desert island, where she had +to go through great hardships, but where everybody was good to +everybody, and never thought of taking care except of each other; +and that, when a beautiful ship came to carry her away, she cried, +and would not go. + +Three weeks of all kinds of weather, except warm, followed, ending +with torrents of rain, and a rapid thaw; but before that time Joan +had got as careless of the weather as Cosmo, and nothing delighted +her more than to encounter any sort of it with him. Nothing kept +her in-doors, and as she always attended to Grizzie's injunctions +the moment she returned, she took no harm, and grew much stronger. +It is not encountering the weather that is dangerous, but +encountering it when the strength is not equal to the encounter. +These two would come in wet from head to foot, change their +clothes, have a good meal, sleep well, and wake in the morning +without the least cold. They would spend the hours between +breakfast and dinner ascending the bank of a hill-stream, dammed by +the snow, swollen by the thaw, and now rushing with a roar to the +valley; or fighting their way through wind and sleet to the top of +some wild expanse of hill-moorland, houseless for miles and +miles--waste bog, and dry stony soil, as far as eye could reach, +with here and there a solitary stock or bush, bending low to the +ground in the steady bitter wind--a hopeless region, save that it +made the hope in their hearts glow the redder; or climbing a gully, +deep-worn by the few wheels of a month but the many of centuries, +and more by the torrents that rushed always down its trench when it +rained heavily, or thawed after snow--hearing the wind sweep across +it above their heads, but feeling no breath of its pres--ence, till +emerging suddenly upon its plane, they had to struggle with it for +very foot-hold upon the round earth. In such contests Lady Joan +delighted. It was so nice, she said, to have a downright good +fight, and nobody out of temper! She would come home from the windy +war with her face glowing, her eyes flashing, her hair challenging +storm from every point of the compass, and her heart merry with +very peacefulness. Her only thoughts of trouble were, that her +father's body lay unburied, and that Borland would come and take +her away. + +When the thaw came at last, the laird had the coffin brought again +into the guest-chamber, and there placed on trestles, to wait the +coming of the new Lord Mergwain. + +Outstripping the letter that announced his departure, he arrived at +length, and with him his man of business. Lady Joan's heart gave a +small beat of pleasure at sight of him, then lay quiet, sad, and +apprehensive: the cold proper salute he gave her seemed, after the +life she had of late been living, to belong rather to some sunless +world than the realms of humanity. He uttered one commonplace +concerning his father's death, and never alluded to it again; +behaved in a dignified, recognizant manner to the laird, as to an +inferior to whom he was under more obligation than he saw how to +wipe out; and, after the snub with which he met the boy's friendly +approach, took no farther notice of Cosmo. Seated three minutes, he +began to require the laird's assistance towards the removal of the +body; could not be prevailed upon to accept refreshment; had a +messenger dispatched instantly to procure the nearest hearse and +four horses; and that same afternoon started for England, following +the body, and taking his sister with him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +AN "INTERLUNAR CAVE." + + +And so the moon died out of Cosmo's heaven. But it was only the +moon. The sun remained to him--his father--visible type of the +great sun, whose light is too keen for souls, and heart and spirit +only can bear. But when he had received Joan's last smile, when she +turned away her face, and the Ungenial, who had spoiled everything +at Glenwarlock, carried her away, then indeed for a moment a great +cloud came over the light of his life, and he sought where to hide +his tears. It was a sickening time, for suddenly she had come, +suddenly entered his heart, and suddenly departed. But such things +are but clouds, and cannot but pass. Ah, reader! it may be your +cloud has not yet passed, and you scorn to hear it called one, +priding yourself that your trouble is eternal. But just because you +are eternal, your trouble cannot be. You may cling to it, and brood +over it, but you cannot keep it from either blossoming into a +bliss, or crumbling to dust. Be such while it lasts, that, when it +passes, it shall leave you loving more, not less. + +There was this difference between Cosmo and most young men of clay +finer than ordinary, that, after the first few moments of the +seemingly unendurable, he did not wander about moody, nursing his +sorrow, and making everybody uncomfortable because he was +uncomfortable; but sought the more the company of his father, and +of Mr. Simon, from whom he had been much separated while Lady Joan +was with them. For such a visit was an opportunity most precious in +the eyes of the laird. With the sacred instinct of a father he +divined what the society of a lady would do for his boy--for the +ripening of his bloom, and the strengthening of his volition. Two +days had not passed before he began to be aware of a softening and +clearing of his speech; of greater readiness and directness in his +replies; of an indescribable sweetening of the address, that had +been sweet, with a rose-shadow of gentle apology cast over every +approach; of a deepening of the atmosphere of his reverence, which +yet as it deepened grew more diaphanous. And when now the episode +of angelic visitation was over, with his usual wisdom he understood +the wrench her abrupt departure must have given his whole being, +and allowed him plenty of time to recover himself from it. Once he +came upon him weeping: not with faintest overshadowing did he +rebuke him, not with farthest hint suggest weakness in his tears. +He went up to him, laid his hand gently on his head, stood thus a +moment, then turned without a word, and left him. Nowise because of +his sorrow did he regret the freedom he had granted their +intercourse. He knew what the sharp things of life are to the human +plant; that its frosts are as needful as its sunshine, its great +passion-winds as its gentle rains; that a divine result is +required, and that his son was being made divinely human; that in +aid of this end the hand of man must humbly follow the great lines +of Nature, ready to withhold itself, anxious not to interfere. Most +people resist the marvellous process; call in the aid of worldly +wisdom for low ends; and bring the experience of their own failures +to bear for the production of worse. But there is no escaping the +mill that grinds slowly and grinds small; and those who refuse to +be living stones in the living temple, must be ground into mortar +for it. + +The next day, of his own choice, Cosmo went to Mr. Simon. He also +knew how to treat the growing plant. He set him such work as should +in a measure harmonize with his late experience, and so drew him +gently from his past: mere labour would have but driven him deeper +into it. Yesterday is as much our past as the bygone century, and +sheltering in it from an uncongenial present, we are lost to our +morrow. Thus things slid gently back with him into their old +grooves. An era of blessedness had vanished, but was not lost; it +was added to his life, gathered up into his being; it was dissolved +into his consciousness, and interpenetrated his activity. Where +there is no ground of regret, or shame, or self-reproach, new joy +casts not out the old; and now that the new joy was old, the older +joys came softly trooping back to their attendance. Nor was this +all. The departing woman left behind her a gift that had never been +hers--the power of verse: he began to be a poet. The older I grow +the more am I filled with marvel at the divine idea of the mutual +development of the man and the woman. Many a woman has made of a +man, for the time at least, and sometimes for ever, a poet, caring +for his verses never a cambric handkerchief or pair of gloves! A +wretched man to whom a poem is not worth a sneer, may set a woman +singing to the centuries! + +Any gift of the nature of poetry, however poor or small, is of +value inestimable to the development of the individual, ludicrous +even though it may show itself, should conceit clothe it in print. +The desire of fame, so vaunted, is the ruin of the small, sometimes +of the great poet. The next evil to doing anything for love of +money, is doing it for the love of fame. A man may have a wife who +is all the world to him, but must he therefore set her on a throne? +Cosmo, essentially and peculiarly practical, never thought of the +world and his verses together, but gathered life for himself in the +making of them. + +These children of his, like all real children, strengthened his +heart, and upheld his hands. In them Truth took to him shape; in +them she submitted herself to his contemplation. He grew faster, +and from the days of his mourning emerged more of a man, and abler +to look the world in the face. + +From that time also he learned and understood more rapidly, though +he never came to show any great superiority in the faculties most +prized of this world, whose judgment differs from that of God's +kingdom in regard to the comparative value of intellectual gifts +almost as much as it does in regard to the relative value of the +moral and the intellectual. Not the less desirable however did it +seem in the eyes of both his father and his tutor, that, if it +could anyhow be managed, he should go the next winter to college. +As to how it could be managed, the laird took much serious thought, +but saw no glimmer of light in the darkness of apparent +impossibility. An unsuspected oracle was however at hand. + +Old servants of the true sort, have, I fancy, a kind of family +instinct. From the air about them almost, from the personal +carriage, from words dropped that were never meant for them, from +the thoughtful, troubled, or eager look, and the sought or avoided +conference, they get possessed by a notion both of how the wind is +blowing, and of how the ship wants to sail. But Grizzie was capable +of reasoning from what she saw. She marked the increase of care on +the brow of her master; noted that it was always greater after he +and Mr. Simon had had a talk at which Cosmo, the beloved of both, +was not present; and concluded that their talk, and the laird's +trouble, must be about Cosmo. She noted also that both were as much +pleased with him as ever, and concluded therefore it was his +prospects and not his behaviour that caused the uneasiness. Then +again she noted how fervently at prayers her master entreated +guidance to do neither more nor less than the right thing; and from +all put together, and considered in the light of a tolerably +accurate idea of the laird's circumstances, Grizzie was able not +only to arrive at a final conclusion, but to come to the resolution +of offering--not advice--that she would never have presumed +upon--but a suggestion. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +CATCH YER NAIG. + + +One night the laird sat in the kitchen revolving in his mind the +whole affair for the many hundredth time. Was it right to spend on +his son's education what might go to the creditors? Was it not +better for the world, for the creditors, and for all, that one of +Cosmo's vigour should be educated? Was it not the best possible +investment of any money he could lay hold of? As to the creditors, +there was the land! the worst for him was the best for them; and +for the boy it was infinitely better he should go without land than +without education! But, all this granted and settled, WHERE WAS THE +MONEY TO COME FROM? That the amount required was small, made no +difference, when it was neither in hand, nor, so far as he could +see, anywhere near his hand. + +He sat in his great chair, with his book open upon his knees. His +mother and Cosmo were gone to bed, and Grizzie was preparing to +follow them: the laird was generally the last to go. But Grizzie, +who had been eying him at intervals for the last half hour, having +now finished her preparations for the morning, drew near, and stood +before him, with her hands and bare arms under her apron. Her +master taking no notice of her, she stood thus in silence for a +moment, then began. It may have been noted that the riming tendency +appeared mostly in the start of a speech, and mostly vanished +afterwards. + +"Laird," she said, "ye're in trouble, for ye're sittin' double, an' +castna a leuk upo' yer buik. Gien ye wad lat a body speyk 'at kens +naething,'cep' 'at oot o' the moo' o' babes an' sucklin's--an'troth +I'm naither babe nor sucklin' this mony a lang, but I'm a +muckle eneuch gowk to be ane o' the Lord's innocents, an' hae him +perfec' praise oot o' the moo' o' me!--" + +She paused a moment, feeling it was time the laird should say +something-which immediately he did. + +"Say awa', Grizzie," he answered; "I'm hearin' ye. There's nane has +a better richt to say her say i' this hoose; what ither hae ye to +say't intil!" + +"I hae no richt," retorted Grizzie, almost angrily, "but what ye +alloo me', laird; and I wadna wuss the Lord to gie me ony mair. But +whan I see ye in tribble--eh, mony's the time I haud my tongue till +my hert's that grit it's jist swallin' in blobs an' blawin' like +the parritch whan its dune makin', afore tak it frae the fire! for +I hae naething to say, an' naither coonsel nor help intil me. But +last nicht, whan I leukit na for't, there cam a thoucht intil my +heid, an' seein' it was a stranger, I bad it walcome. It micht hae +come til a far wysser heid nor mine, but seein' it did come to +mine, it wad luik as gien the Lord micht hae pitten' t' there--to +the comfort an' consolation o' ane,'at, gien she be a gowk, is +muckle the same as the Lord made her wi' 's ain bliss-it han'. Sae, +quo' I, Is' jist submit the thing to the laird. He'll sune discern +whether it be frae the Lord or mysel'!" + +"Say on, Grizzie," returned the laird, when again she paused. "It +sud surprise nane to get a message frae the Lord by the mou' o' ane +o' his handmaidens." + +"Weel, it's this, laird.--I hae often been i' the gran' drawin' +room, when ye wad be lattin' the yoong laird, or somebody or +anither ye wantit to be special til, see the bonny things ye hae +sic a fouth o' i' the caibnets again the wa's; an' I hae aye h'ard +ye say o' ane o' them--yon bonny little horsie, ye ken,'at they say +the auld captain,'at 's no laid yet, gied to yer gran'father--I hae +aye h'ard ye say o' that,'at hoo it was solid silver--'SAID TO BE,' +ye wad aye tack to the tail o' 't." + +"True! true!" said the laird, a hopeful gleam beginning to break +upon his darkness. + +"We'll, ye see, laird," Grizzie went on, "I'm no sic a born idiot +as think ye wad set the possession o' sic a playock again the yoong +laird's edication; sae ye maun hae some rizzon for no meltin' 't +doon--seem' siller maun aye be worth siller,--an' gowd, gien there +be eneuch o' 't. Sae, like the minister, I come to the +conclusion--But I hae yer leave, laird, to speyk?" + +"Gang on, gang on, Grizzie," said the laird, almost eagerly. + +"Weel, laird--I winna say FEART, for I never saw yer lairdship" +--she had got into the way of saying LORDSHIP, and now not +unfrequently said LAIRDSHIP!--"feart afore bull or bully, but I +cud weel believe ye wadna willin'ly anger ane 'at the Lord lats +gang up and doon upo' the earth, whan he wad be far better intil't, +ristin' in 's grave till the resurrection--only he was never ane o' +the sancts! But anent that, michtna ye jist ca' to min', laird,'at +a gi'en gift's yer ain, to du wi' what ye like; an' I wad na heed +man, no to say a cratur 'at belangs richtly to nae warl' ava','at +wad play the bairn, an' want back what he had gi'en. For him, he's +a mere deid man 'at winna lie still. Mony a bairn canna sleep, +'cause he's behavet himsel' ill the day afore! But gi'en, by +coortesy like, he hed a word i' the case, he cudna objec'--that is, +gien he hae onything o' the gentleman left intil him, which nae +doobt may weel be doobtfu'--for wasna he a byous expense wi' his +drink an' the gran' ootlandish dishes he bude to hae! Aften hae I +h'ard auld Grannie say as muckle, an' she kens mair aboot that +portion o' oor history nor ony ither, for, ye see, I cam raither +late intil the faimily mysel'. Sae, as I say, it wad be but fair +the auld captain sud contreebit something to the needcessities o' +the hoose, war it his to withhaud, which I mainteen it is not." + +"Weel rizzont, Grizzie!" cried the laird. "An' I thank ye mair for +yer thoucht nor yer rizzons; the tane I was in want o', the tither +I was na. The thing sall be luikit intil, an' that the first thing +the morn's mornin'! The bit playock cam never i' my heid! I maun be +growin' auld, Grizzie, no to hae thoucht o' a thing sae plain! But +it's the w'y wi' a' the best things! They're sae guid whan ye get a +grip o' them,'at ye canna un'erstan' hoo ye never thoucht o' them +afore." + +"I'm aul'er nor you, sir; sae it maun hae been the Lord himsel' 'at +pat it intil me." + +"We'll see the morn, Grizzie. I'm no that sure there's onything +mair intil't nor a mere fule word. For onything I ken, the thing +may be nae better nor a bit o' braiss. I hae thoucht mony a time it +luikit, in places, unco like braiss. But Is' tak it the morn's +mornin' to Jeemie Merson. We'll see what he says til 't. Gien ony +body i' these pairts hae ony authority in sic maitters, it's +Jeemie. An' I thank ye hertily, Grizzie." + +But Grizzie was not well pleased that her master should so lightly +pass the reasoned portion of her utterance; like many another +prophet, she prized more the part of her prophecy that came from +herself, than the part that came from the Lord. + +"Sae plain as he cam an' gaed, laird, I thoucht ye micht hae been +considerin' him." + +The laird replied to her tone rather than her words. + +"Hoots, Grizzie, wuman!" he said, "was na ye jist tellin' me no to +heed him a hair? An' no ae hair wad I heed him,'cep' it wad gie ony +rist til's puir wan'erin' sowl." + +"I but thoucht the thing worth a thoucht, laird," said Grizzie, +humbly and apologetically; and with a kind "Guid nicht to ye, +laird," turned away, and went up the stairs to her room. + +The moment she was gone, the laird fell on his knees, and gave God +thanks for the word he had received by his messenger--if indeed it +pleased him that such Grizzie should prove to be. + +"O Lord," he said, "with thee the future is as the present, and the +past as the future. In the long past it may be thou didst provide +this supply for my present need--didst even then prepare the answer +to the prayers with which thou knewest I should assail thine ear. +Never in all my need have I so much desired money as now for the +good of my boy. But if this be but one of my hopes, not one of thy +intents, give me the patience of a son, O Father." + +With these words he rose from his knees, and taking his book, read +and enjoyed into the dead of the night. + +That same night, Cosmo, who, again in his own chamber, was the more +troubled with the trouble of his father that he was no longer with +him in his room, dreamed a very odd, confused dream, of which he +could give himself but little account in the morning--something +about horses shod with shoes of gold, which they cast from their +heels in a shoe-storm as they ran, and which anybody might have for +the picking up. And throughout the dream was diffused an +unaccountable flavour of the old villain, the sea-captain, although +nowhere did he come into the story. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE WATCMAKER + + +When he came down to breakfast, his father told him, to his +delight, that he was going to Muir of Warlock, and would like him +to go with him. He ran like a hare up the waterside to let Mr. +Simon know, and was back by the time his father was ready. + +It was a lovely day. There would be plenty of cold and rough +weather yet, but the winter was over and gone, and even to that +late region of the north, the time of the singing of birds was +come. The air was soft, with streaks of cold in it. The fields lay +about all wet, but there was the sun above them, whose business it +was to dry them. There were no leaves yet on the few trees and +hedges, but preparations had long been made, and the sap was now +rising in their many stems, like the mercury in all the +thermometers. Up also rose the larks, joy fluttering their wings, +and quivering their throats. They always know when the time to +praise God is come, for it is when they begin to feel happy: more +cannot be expected of them. And are they not therein already on the +level of most of us Christians who in this mood and that praise +God? And indeed are not the birds and the rest of the creatures +Christians in the same way as the vast mass of those that call +themselves such? Do they not belong to the creation groaning after +a redemption they do not know? Men and women groan in misery from +not being yet the sons and daughters of God, who regard nothing +else as redemption, but the getting of their own way, which the +devil only would care to give them. + +As they went, the laird told Cosmo what was taking him to the +village, and the boy walked by his father's side as in a fairy +tale; for had they not with them a strange thing that might prove +the talismanic opener of many doors to treasure-caves? + +They went straight to the shop, if shop it could be called, of +Jeames Merson, the watchmaker of the village. There all its little +ornamental business was done--a silver spoon might be engraved, a +new pin put to a brooch, a wedding ring of sterling gold purchased, +or a pair of earings of lovely glass, representing amethyst or +topaz. There a second-hand watch might be had, with choice amongst +a score, taken in exchange from ploughmen or craftsmen. Jeames was +poor, for there was not much trade in his line, and so was never +able to have much of a stock; but he was an excellent +watchmaker--none better in the great city--so at least his +town-folk believed, and in a village it soon appears whether a +watchmaker has got it in him. + +He was a thin, pale man, with a mixed look of rabbit and ferret, a +high narrow forehead, and keen gray eyes. His work-shop and +show-room was the kitchen, partly for the sake of his wife's +company, partly because there was the largest window the cottage +could boast. In this window was hung almost his whole stock, and a +table before it was covered with his work and tools. He was +stooping over it, his lens in his eye, busy with a watch, of which +several portions lay beside him protected from the dust by footless +wine-glasses, when the laird and Cosmo entered. He put down pinion +and file, pushed back his chair, and rose to receive them. + +"A fine mornin', Jeames!" said the laird. "I houp ye're weel, and +duin' weel." + +"Muckle the same as usual, laird, an' I thank ye," answered Jeames, +with a large smile. "I'm no jist upo' the ro'd to be what they ca' +a millionaire, an' I'm no jist upon the perris--something atween +the twa, I'm thinkin'." + +"I doobt there's mair o' ane's in like condition, Jeames," +responded the laird, "or we wad na be comin' to tax yer skeel at +this present." + +"Use yer freedom, laird; I'm yer heumble servan'. It wadna be a +watch for the yoong laird? I kenna--" + +He stopped, and cast an anxious eye towards the window. + +"Na, na," interrupted the laird, sorry to have raised even so much +of a vain hope in the mind of the man, "I'm as farfrae a watch as +ye are frae the bank. But I hae here i' my pooch a bit silly +playock,'at's been i' the hoose this mony a lang; an' jist this +last nicht it was pitten intil my heid there micht be some guid +intl the chattel, seein' i' the tradition o' the faimily it's aye +been hauden for siller. For my ain pairt I hae my doobts; but gien +onybody here aboot can tell the trowth on't, yersel' maun be the +man; an' sae I hae brought it, to ken what ye wad say til 't." + +"I'll du my best to lowse yer doobt, laird," returned Jeames. +"Lat's hae a luik at the article." + +The laird took the horse from his pocket, and handed it to him. +Jeames regarded it for some time with interest, and examined it +with care. + +"It's a bonny bit o' carved work," he said; "--a bairnly kin' o' a +thing for shape--mair like a timmer horsie; but whan ye come to the +ornamentation o' the same, it's o' anither character frae the roon' +spots o' reid paint--an' sae's the sma' rubies an' stanes intil 't. +This has taen a heap o' time, an' painsfu' labour--a deal mair nor +some o' 's wad think it worth, I doobt! It's the w'y o' the +haithens wi' their graven eemages, but what for a horsie like this, +I dinna ken. Hooever, that's naither here nor there: ye didna come +to me to speir hoo or what for it was made; it's what is 't made o' +'s the question. It's some yallow-like for siller; an' it's unco +black, which is mair like it--but that may be wi' dirt.--An' dirt +I'm thinkin' it maun be, barkit intil the gravin'," he went on, +taking a tool and running the point of it along one of the fine +lines. "Troth ohn testit, I wadna like to say what it was. But it's +an unco weicht!--I doobt--na, I mair nor doobt it canna be siller." + +So saying he carried it to his table, put it down, and went to a +corner-cupboard. Thence he brought a small stoppered phial. He gave +it a little shake, and took out the stopper. It was followed by a +dense white fume. With the stopper he touched the horse underneath, +and looked closely at the spot. He then replaced the stopper and +the bottle, and stood by the cupboard, gazing at nothing for a +moment. Then turning to the laird, he said, with a peculiar look +and a hesitating expression: + +"Na, laird, it's no siller. Aquafortis winna bite up' 't. I wad mix +'t wi' muriatic, an' try that, but I hae nane handy, an' forby it +wad tak time to tell. Ken ye whaur it cam frae?--Ae thing I'm sure +o'--it's no siller!" + +"I'm sorry to hear it," rejoined the laird, with a faint smile and +a little sigh.--"Well, we're no worse off than we were, Cosmo!--But +poor Grizzie! she'll be dreadfully disappointed.--Gie me the bit +horsie, Jeames; we'll e'en tak' him hame again. It's no his fau't, +puir thing,'at he 's no better nor he was made!" + +"Wad ye no tell me whaur the bit thing cam frae, or is supposit to +hae come frae, sir; H'ard ye it ever said, for enstance,'at the +auld captain they tell o' had broucht it?" + +"That's what I hae h'ard said," answered the laird. + +"Weel, sir," returned Jeames, "gien ye had nae objection, I wad +fain mak' oot what the thing _is_ made o'." + +"It matters little," said the laird, "seein' we ken what it 's +_no_ made o'; but tak' yer wull o' 't, Jeames." + +"Sit ye doon than, laird, gien ye hae naething mair pressin', an' +see what I mak' o' 't," said the watchmaker, setting him a chair. + +"Wullin'ly," replied the laird, "--but I dinna like takin' up yer +time." + +"Ow, my time's no sae dooms precious! I can aye win throu' wi' my +work ohn swatten," said Jeames, with a smile in which mingled a +half comical sadness. "An' it wad set me to waur't (PUZZLE ME TO +SPEND IT) better to my ain min' nor servin' yersel', i' the +sma'est, sir." + +The laird thanked him, and sat down. Cosmo placed himself on a +stool beside him. + +"I hae naething upo' han' the day," Jeames Merson went on, "but a +watch o' Jeames Gracie's, up at the Know--ane o' yer ain fowk, +laird. He tells me it was your gran'father, sir, gied it til his +gran'father. It's a queer auld-fashiont kin' o' a thing--some +complicat; an'whiles it's 'maist ower muckle for me. Ye see auld +age is aboot the warst disease horses an' watches can be ta'en wi': +there's sae little left to come an' gang upo'!" + +While the homely assayer thus spoke, he was making his +preparations. + +"What for no men as weel's horses an' watches?" suggested the +laird. + +"I wadna meddle wi' men. I lea' them to the doctors an' the +ministers," replied Jeames, with another wide, silent laugh. + +By this time he had got a pair of scales carefully adjusted, a +small tin vessel in one of them, and balancing weights in the +other. Then he went to the rack over the dresser, and mildly +lamenting his wife's absence and his own inability to lay his hand +on the precise vessels he wanted, brought thence a dish and a +basin. The dish he placed on the table with the basin in it and +filled the latter with water to the very brim. He then took the +horse, placed it gently in the basin, which was large enough to +receive it entirely, and set basin and horse aside. Taking then +the'dish into which the water had overflowed, he poured its +contents into the tin vessel in the one scale, and added weights to +the opposite until they balanced each other, upon which he made a +note with a piece of chalk on the table. Next, he removed +everything from the scales, took the horse, wiped it in his apron, +and weighed it carefully. That done, he sat down, and leaning back +in his chair, seemed to his visitors to be making a calculation, +only the conjecture did not quite fit the strange, inscrutable +expression of his countenance. The laird began to think he must be +one of those who delight to plaster knowledge with mystery. + +"Weel, laird," said Jeames at length, "the weicbt o' what ye hae +laid upo' me, maks me doobtfu' whaur nae doobt sud be. But I'mb'un' to +say, ootside the risk o' some mistak, o' the gr'un's o' +which I can ken naething, for else I wadna hae made it,'at this bit +horsie o' yours, by a' 'at my knowledge or skeel, which is naither +o' them muckle, can tell me--this bit horsie--an' gien it binna as +I say, I canNOT see what for it sudna be sae--only, ye see, laird, +whan we think we ken a'thing, there's a heap ahint oor A'THING; an' +feow ken better, at least feow hae a richt to ken better, nor I du +mysel', what a puir cratur is man, an hoo liable to mak mistaks, +e'en whan he's duin' his best to be i' the richt; an for oucht 'at +I ken, there may hae been grit discoveries made, ohn ever come to +my hearin','at upsets a'thing I ever was gien to tak, an' haud by +for true; an' yet I daurna withhaud the conclusion I'm driven til, +for maybe whiles the hert o' man may gang the wrang. gait by bein' +ower wise in its ain conceit o' expeckin' ower little, jist as +weel's in expeckin' ower muckle, an' sae I'm b'un' to tell ye, +laird,'at yer expectations frae this knot o'metal,--for metal we +maun alloo it to be, whatever else it be or bena--yer expectations, +I say, are a'thegither wrang, for it's no more siller nor my wife's +kitchie-poker." + +"Weel, man!" said the laird, with a laugh that had in it just a +touch of scorn, "gien the thing be sae plain, what gars ye gang +that gait aboot the buss to say't? Du ye tak me and Cosmo here for +bairns 'at wad fa' a greetin' gien ye tellt them their ba-lamb +wasna a leevin' ane-naething but a fussock o' cotton-'oo', rowed +roon' a bit stick? We're naither o' 's complimentit.--Come, Cosmo. +--I'm nane the less obleeged to ye, Jeames," he added as he rose, +"though I cud weel wuss yer opingon had been sic as wad hae +pitten't 'i my pooer to offer ye a fee for't." + +"The less said aboot that the better, laird.'" replied Jeames with +imperturbability, and his large, silent smile; "the trowth's the +trowth, whether it's paid for or no. But afore ye gang it's but +fair to tell ye--only I wadna like to be hauden ower strickly +accoontable for the opingon, seein' its no my profession, as they +ca' 't, but I hae dune my best, an gien I be i' the wrang, I +naither hae nor had ony ill design intil' 't.--" + +"Bless my soul!" cried the laird, with more impatience than Cosmo +had ever seen him show, "is the man mad, or does he take me for a +fool?" + +"There's some things, laird," resumed Jeames, "that hae to be +approcht oontil, wi' circumspection an' a proaper regaird to the +impression they may mak. Noo, disclaimin' ony desire to luik like +an ill-bred scoon'rel, whilk I wad raither luik to onybody nor to +yersel', laird, I ventur to jaloose 'at maybe the maitter o' a feow +poun's micht be o' some consequence to ye,-" + +"Ilka fule i' the country kens that 'at kens Glenwarlock," +interrupted the laird, and turned hastily. "Come, Cosmo." + +Cosmo went to open the door, troubled to see his father annoyed +with the unintelligibility of the man. + +"Weel, gien ye WELL gang," said Jeames, "I maun jist tak my life i' +my ban', an'--" + +"Hoot, man! tak yer tongue i' yer teeth; it'll be mair to the +purpose," cried the laird laughing, for he had got over his ill +humour already. "My life i' my han', quo' he!-Man, I haena carriet +a dirk this mony a day! I laid it aff wi' the kilt." + +"Weel, it micht be the better 'at ye hadna, gien ye binna gaein +hame afore nicht, for I saw some cairds o' the ro'd the day.--Ance +mair, gien ye wad but hearken til ane 'at confesses he oucht to +ken, even sud he be i' the wrang, I tell ye that horsie is NOT +siller--na, nor naething like it." + +"Plague take the man!--what is it, then?" cried the laird. + +"What for didna ye speir that at me afore?" rejoined Jeames. "It +wad hae gien me leeberty to tell ye--to the best o' my abeelity +that is. Whan I'm no cocksure--an' its ower muckle a thing to be +cocksure aboot--I wadna volunteer onything. I wadna say naething +till I was adjured like an evil speerit." + +"Weel," quoth the laird, entering now into the humour of the thing, +"herewith I adjure thee, thou contrairy and inarticulate speerit, +that thou tell me whereof and of what substance this same toy-horse +is composed, manufactured, or made up." + +"Toy here, toy there!" returned Jeames; "sae far as ony +cawpabeelity o' mine, or ony puir skeel I hae, will alloo o' +testimony--though min' ye, laird, I winna tak the consequences o' +bein' i' the wrang--though I wad raither tak them, an' ower again, +nor be i' the wrang,--" + +The laird turned and went out, followed by Cosmo. He began to think +the man must have lost his reason. But when the watchmaker saw them +walking steadily along the street in the direction of home, he +darted out of the cloor and ran after them. + +"Gien ye wad gang, laird," he said, in an injured tone, "ye mecht +hae jist latten me en' the sentence I had begun!" + +"There's nae en' to ony o' yer sentences, man!" said the laird; +"that's the only thing i' them 'at was forgotten,'cep' it was the +sense." + +"Weel, guid day to ye laird!" returned Jeames. "Only," he added, +drawing a step nearer, and speaking in a subdued confidential +voice, "dinna lat yer harsie rin awa' upo' the ro'd hame, for I +sweir til ye, gien there be only trowth i' the laws o' natur, he's +no siller, nor onything like it--" + +"Hoots!" said the laird, and turning away, walked off with great +strides. + +"But," the watchmaker continued, almost running to keep up with +him, and speaking in a low, harsh, hurried voice, as if thrusting +the words into his ears, "naither mair nor less nor solid +gowd--pure gowd, no a grain o' alloy!" + +That said, he turned, went back at the same speed, shot himself +into his cottage, and closed the door. + +The father and son stopped, and looked at each other for a moment. +Then the laird walked slowly on. After a minute or two, Cosmo +glanced up in his face, but his father did not return the glance, +and the boy saw that he was talking to another. By and by he heard +him murmur to himself, "The gifts of God are without repentance." + +Not a word passed between them as they went home, though all the +time it seemed to both father and son that they were holding +closest converse. The moment they reached the castle, the laird +went to his room--to the closet where his few books lay, and got +out a volume of an old cyclopaedia, where he read all he could find +about gold. Thence descending to the kitchen, he rummaged out a +rusty old pair of scales, and with their help arrived at the +conclusion that the horse weighed about three pounds avoirdupois: +it might be worth about a hundred and fifty pounds. Ready money, +this was a treasure in the eyes of one whose hand had seldom indeed +closed upon more than ten pounds at once. Here was large provision +for the four years of his boy's college life! Nor was the margin it +would leave for his creditors by any means too small for +consideration! It is true the golden horse, hoofs, and skin, and +hair of jewels, could do but little towards the carting away of the +barrow of debt that crushed Glenwarlock; but not the less was it a +heavenly messenger of good will to the laird. There are who are so +pitiful over the poor man, that, finding they cannot lift him +beyond the reach of the providence which intends there shall always +be the poor on the earth, will do for him nothing at all. + +"Where is the use?" they say. They treat their money like their +children, and would not send it into a sad house. If they had +themselves no joys but their permanent ones, where would the hearts +of them be? Can such have a notion of the relief, the glad rebound +of the heart of the poor man, the in-burst of light, the +re-creation of the world, when help, however temporary, reaches +him? A man like the laird of Glenwarlock, capable of a large +outlook, one that reaches beyond the wide-spread skirts of his +poverty, sees in it an arc of the mighty rainbow that circles the +world, a well in the desert he is crossing to the pastures of red +kine and woolly sheep. It is to him a foretaste of the final +deliverance. While the rich giver is saying, "Poor fellow, he will +be just as bad next month again!" the poor fellow is breathing the +airs of paradise, reaping more joy of life in half a day than his +benefactor in half a year, for help is a quick seed and of rapid +growth, and bourgeons in a moment into the infinite aeons. +Everything in this world is but temporary: why should temporary +help be undervalued? Would you not pull out a drowning bather +because he will bathe again to-morrow? The only question is--DOES +IT HELP? Jonah might grumble at the withering of his gourd, but if +it had not grown at all, would he ever have preached to Nineveh? It +set the laird on a Pisgah-rock, whence he gazed into the promised +land. + +The rich, so far as money-needs are concerned, live under a +cloudless sky of summer--dreary rather and shallow, it seems to me, +however lovely its blue light; when for the poor man a breach is +made through a vaporous firmament, he sees deeper into the blue +because of the framing clouds--sees up to worlds invisible in the +broad glare. I know not how the born-rich, still less those who +have given themselves with success to the making of money, can +learn that God is the all in all of men, for this world's needs as +well as for the eternal needs. I know they may learn it, for the +Lord has said that God can even teach the rich, and I have known of +them who seemed to know it as well as any poor man; but speaking +generally, the rich have not the same opportunity of knowing +God--nor the same conscious need of him--that the poor man has. And +when, after a few years, all, so far as things to have and to hold +are concerned, are alike poor, and all, as far as any need of them +is concerned, are alike rich, the advantage will all be on the side +of such as, neither having nor needing, do not desire them. In the +meantime, the rich man who, without pitying his friend that he is +not rich also, cheerfully helps him over a stone where he cannot +carry him up the hill of his difficulty, rejoicing to do for him +what God allows, is like God himself, the great lover of his +children, who gives a man infinitely, though he will not take from +him his suffering until strength is perfected in his weakness. + +The laird called Cosmo, and they went out together for a walk in +the fields, where they might commune in quiet. There they talked +over the calculation the laird had made of the probable worth of +the horse; and the father, unlike most prudent men, did not think +it necessary to warn his son against too sure an expectation, and +so prepare him for the consequence of a possible mistake; he did +not imagine that disappointment, like the small-pox, requires the +vaccination of apprehension--that a man, lest he should be more +miserable afterwards, must make himself miserable now. In matters +of hope as well as fear, he judged the morrow must look after +itself; believed the God who to-day is alive in to-morrow, looks +after our affairs there where we cannot be. I am far from sure that +the best preparation for a disappointment is not the hope that +precedes it. + +Friends, let us hold by our hopes. All colours are shreds of the +rainbow. There is a rainbow of the cataract, of the paddle-wheel, +of the falling wave: none of them is the rainbow, yet they are all +of it; and if they vanish, so does the first, the arch-rainbow, the +bow set in the cloud, while that which set it there, and will set +it again, vanishes never. All things here pass; yet say not they +are but hopes. It is because they are not the thing hoped for that +they are precious--the very opals of the soul. By our hopes are we +saved. There is many a thing we could do better without than the +hope of it, for our hopes ever point beyond the thing hoped for. +The bow is the damask flower on the woven tear-drops of the world; +hope is the shimmer on the dingy warp of trouble shot with the +golden woof of God's intent. Nothing almost sees miracles but +misery. + +Cosmo never forgot that walk in the fields with his father. When +the money was long gone after the melted horse, that hour spent +chiefly amongst the great horse-gowans that adorned the thin soil +of one of the few fields yet in some poor sense their own, remained +with him--to be his for ever--a portion of the inheritance of the +meek. The joy had brought their hearts yet closer to each other, for +one of the lovelinesses of true love is that it may and must +always be more. In a gravelly hollow, around which rose hillocks, +heaped by far off tides in times afar, they knelt together on the +thin grass, among the ox-eyes, and gave God thanks for the golden +horse on which Cosmo was to ride to the temple of knowledge. + +After, they sat a long time talking over the strange thing. All +these years had the lump of gold been lying in the house, ready for +their great need! For what was lands, or family, or ancient name, +to the learning that opens doors, the hand-maiden of the +understanding, which is the servant of wisdom, who reads in the +heart of him who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and the +fountains of water and the conscience of man! Then they began to +imagine together how the thing had come to pass. It could hardly be +that the old captain did not know what a thing he gave! Doubtless +he had intended sometime, perhaps in the knowledge of approaching +death, to say something concerning it, and in the meantime, +probably, with cunning for its better safety, had treated it as a +thing of value, but of value comparatively slight! How had it come +into existence, they next asked each other. Either it had belonged +to some wealthy prince, they concluded, or the old captain had got +it made for himself, as a convenient shape in which to carry with +him, if not ready money, yet available wealth. Cosmo suggested that +possibly, for better concealment, it had been silvered; and the +laird afterwards learned from the jeweller to whom he sold it, that +such was indeed the case. I may mention also that its worth +exceeded the laird's calculation, chiefly because of the tiny +jewels with which it was studded. + +Cosmo repeated to his father the rime he had learned from dreaming +Grannie, and told him how he heard it that time he lay a night in +her house, and what Grannie herself said about it, and now the +laird smiled, and now he looked grave; but neither of them saw how +to connect the rime with the horse of gold. For one thing, great as +was the wealth it brought them, the old captain could hardly have +expected it to embolden any one to the degree of arrogance +specified. What man would call the king his brother on the strength +of a hundred and fifty pounds? + +When Grizzie learned the result of her advice, she said "Praise be +thankit!" and turned away. The next moment Cosmo heard her +murmuring to herself, + + + "Whan the coo loups ower the mune, + The reid gowd rains intil men's shune." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +THE LUMINOUS NIGHT. + + +That night Cosmo could not sleep. It was a warm summer night, +though not yet summer--a soft dewy night, full of genial magic and +growth--as if some fire-bergs of summer had drifted away out into +the spring, and got melted up in it. He dressed himself, and went +out. It was cool, deliciously cool, and damp, but with no shiver. +The stars were bright-eyed as if they had been weeping, and were so +joyously consoled that they forgot to wipe away their tears. They +were bright but not clear--large and shimmering, as if reflected +from some invisible sea, not immediately present to his eyes. The +gulfs in which they floated were black blue with profundity. There +was no moon, but the night was yet so far from dark, that it seemed +conscious throughout of some distant light that illumined it +without shine. And his heart felt like the night, as if it held a +deeper life than he could ever know. He wandered on till he came to +the field where he had so lately been with his father. He was not +thinking; any effort would break the world-mirror in which he +moved! For the moment he would be but a human plant, gathering +comfort from the soft coolness and the dew, when the sun had ceased +his demands. The coolness and the dew sank into him, and made his +soul long for the thing that waits the asking. He came to the spot +where his father and he had prayed together, and there kneeling +lifted up his face to the stars. Oh mighty, only church! whose roof +is a vaulted infinitude! whose lights come burning from the heart +of the Maker! church of all churches--where the Son of Man prayed! +In the narrow temple of Herod he taught the people, and from it +drove the dishonest traders; but here, under the starry roof, was +his house of prayer! church where not a mark is to be seen of human +hand! church that is all church, and nothing but church, built +without hands, despised and desecrated through unbelief! church of +God's building! thou alone in thy grandeur art fitting type of a +yet greater, a yet holier church, whose stars are the burning eyes +of unutterable, self-forgetting love, whose worship is a ceaseless +ministration of self-forgetting deeds--the one real ideal church, +the body of the living Christ, built of the hearts and souls of men +and women out of every nation and every creed, through all time and +over all the world, redeemed alike from Judaism, paganism, and all +the false Christianities that darken and dishonor the true. + +Cosmo, I say, knelt, and looked up. Then will awoke, and he lifted +up his heart, sending aloft his soul on every holy sail it could +spread, on all the wings it could put forth, as if, through the +visible, he would force his way to the invisible. + +Softly through the blue night came a gentle call: + +"Cosmo." + +He started, not with fear, looked round, but saw no one. + +"Cosmo!" came the call again. + +The sky was shining with the stars, and that other light that might +be its own; other than the stars and the sky he saw nothing. He +looked all round his narrow horizon, the edge of the hollow between +him and the sky, where the heaven and the earth met among the stars +and the grass, and the stars shimmered like glow-worms among the +thin stalks: nothing was there; its edge was unbroken by other +shape than grass, daisies, ox-eyes, and stars. A soft dreamy wind +came over the edge, and breathed once on his cheek. The voice came +again-- + +"Cosmo!" + +It seemed to come from far away, so soft and gentle was it, +and yet it seemed near. + +"It has called me three times!" said Cosmo, and rose to his feet. + +There was the head of Simon Peter, as some called him, rising like +a dark sun over the top of the hollow! In the faint light Cosmo +knew him at once, gave a cry of pleasure, and ran to meet him. + +"You called so softly," said Cosmo, "I did not know your voice." + +"And you are disappointed! You thought it was a voice from some +region beyond this world! I am sorry. I called softly, because I +wanted to let you know I was coming, and was afraid of startling +you." + +[Illustration: A VAULTED INFINITUDE] + +"I confess," replied Cosmo, "a little hope was beginning to +flutter, that, perhaps I was called from somewhere in the +unseen--like Samuel, you know; but I was too glad to see you to be +much disappointed. I do sometimes wonder though, that, if there is +such a world beyond as we sometime talk about, there should be so +little communication between it and us. When I am out in the still +time of this world, and there is nothing to interfere,--when I am +not even thinking, so as to close my doors, why should never +anything come? Never in my life have I had one whisper from that +world." + +"You are saying a great deal more than you can possibly know, +Cosmo," answered Mr. Simon. "You have had no communication +recognized by you as such, I grant. And I, who am so much older +than you, must say the same. If there be any special fitness in the +night, in its absorbing dimness, and isolating silence, for such +communication--and who can well doubt it?--I have put myself in the +heart of it a thousand times, when, longing after an open vision, I +should have counted but the glimpse of a ghostly garment the +mightiest boon, but never therefrom has the shadow of a feather +fallen upon me. Yet here I am, hoping no less, and believing no +less! The air around me may be full of ghosts--I do not know; I +delight to think they may somehow be with us, for all they are so +unseen; but so long as I am able to believe and hope in the one +great ghost, the Holy Ghost that fills all, it would trouble me +little to learn that betwixt me and the visible centre was nothing +but what the senses of men may take account of. If there be a God, +he is all in all, and filleth all things, and all is well. What +matter where the region of the dead may be? Nowhere but here are +they called the dead. When, of all paths, that to God is alone +always open, and alone can lead the wayfarer to the end of his +journey, why should I stop to peer through the fence either side of +that path? If he does not care to reveal, is it well I should make +haste to know? I shall know one day, why should I be eager to know +now?" + +"But why might not something show itself once--just for once, if +only to give one a start in the right direction?" said Cosmo. + +"I will tell you one reason," returned Mr. Simon, "--the same why +everything is as it is, and neither this nor that other +way--namely, that it is best for us it should be as it is. But I +think I can see a little way into it. Suppose you saw something +strange--a sign or a wonder--one of two things, it seems tome +likely, would follow:--you would either doubt it the moment it had +vanished, or it would grow to you as one of the common things of +your daily life--which are indeed in themselves equally wonderful. +Evidently, if visions would make us sure, God does not care about +the kind of sureness they can give, or for our being made sure in +that way. A thing that gained in one way, might be of less than no +value to us, gained in another, might, as a vital part of the +process, be invaluable. God will have us sure of a thing by knowing +the heart whence it comes; that is the only worthy assurance. To +know, he will have us go in at the great door of obedient faith; +and if anybody thinks he has found a backstair, he will find it +land him at a doorless wall. It is the assurance that comes of +inmost beholding of himself, of seeing what he is, that God cares +to produce in us. Nor would he have us think we know him before we +do, for thereby thousands walk in a vain show. At the same time I +am free to imagine if I imagine holily--that is, as his child. And +I imagine space full of life invisible; imagine that the young man +needed but the opening of his eyes to see the horses and chariots +of fire around his master, an inner circle to the horses and +chariots that encompassed the city to take him. As I came now +through the fields, I lost myself for a time in the feeling that I +was walking in the midst of lovely people I have known, some in +person, some by their books. Perhaps they were with me--are with +me--are speaking to me now. For if all our thoughts, from whatever +source, whether immediately from God, or through ourselves, seem to +enter the chamber of our consciousness by the same door, why may it +not be so with some that come to us from other beings? Why may not +the dead speak to me, and I be unable to distinguish their words +from my thoughts? The moment a thought is given me, my own thought +rushes to mingle with it, and I can no more part them. Some stray +hints from the world beyond may mingle even with the folly and +stupidity of my dreams." + +"But if you cannot distinguish, where is the good?" Cosmo ventured +to ask. + +"Nowhere for deductive certainty. Nor, if the things themselves are +not worth remembering, or worthy of influencing us, is there any +good in enquiring concerning them? Shall I mind a thing that is not +worth minding, because it came to me in a dream, or was told me by +a ghost? It is the quality of a thing, not how it arrived, that is +the point. But true things are often mingled with things grotesque. +For aught I know, at one and the same time, a spirit may be taking +advantage of the door set ajar by sleep, to whisper a message of +love or repentance, and the troubled brain or heart or stomach may +be sending forth fumes that cloud the vision, and cause evil echoes +to mingle with the hearing. When you look at any bright thing for a +time, and then close your eyes, you still see the shape of it, but +in different colours. This figure has come to you from the outside +world, but the brain has altered it. Even the shape itself is +reproduced with but partial accuracy: some imperfection in the +recipient sense, or in the receptacle, sends imperfection into the +presentation. In a way something similar may our contact with the +dwellers beyond fare in our dreams. My unknown mother may be +talking to me in my sleep, and up rises some responsive but stupid +dream-cloud of my own, and mingles with and ruins the descended +grace. But it is well to remind you again that the things around us +are just as full of marvel as those into which you are so anxious +to look. Our people in the other world, although they have proved +these earthly things before, probably now feel them strange, and +full of a marvel the things about them have lost." + +"All is well. The only thing worth a man's care is the will of God, +and that will is the same whether in this world or in the next. +That will has made this world ours, not the next; for nothing can +be ours until God has given it to us. Curiosity is but the +contemptible human shadow of the holy thing wonder. No, my son, let +us make the best we can of this life, that we may become able to +make the best of the next also." + +"And how make the best of this?" asked Cosmo. + +"Simply by falling in with God's design in the making of you. That +design must be worked out--cannot be worked out without you. You +must walk in the front of things with the will of God--not be +dragged in the sweep of his garment that makes the storm behind +him! To walk with God is to go hand in hand with him, like a boy +with his father. Then, as to the other world, or any world, as to +the past sorrow, the vanished joy, the coming fear, all is well; +for the design of the making, the loving, the pitiful, the +beautiful God, is marching on towards divine completion, that is, a +never ending one. Yea, if it please my sire that his infinite be +awful to me, yet will I face it, for it is his. Let your prayer, my +son, be like this:'O Maker of me, go on making me, and let me help +thee. Come, O Father! here I am; let us go on. I know that my words +are those of a child, but it is thy child who prays to thee. It is +thy dark I walk in; it is thy hand I hold.'" + +The words of his teacher sank into the heart of Cosmo, for his +spirit was already in the lofty condition of capacity for receiving +wisdom direct from another. + +It is a lofty condition, and they who scorn it but show they have +not reached it--nor are likely to reach it soon. Such as will not +be taught through eye or ear, must be taught through the skin, and +that is generally a long as well as a painful process. All Cosmo's +superiority came of his having faith in those who were higher than +he. True, he had not yet been tried; but the trials of a pure, +honest, teachable youth, must, however severe, be very different +from those of one unteachable. The former are for growth, the +latter for change. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +AT COLLEGE. + + +The summer and autumn had yet to pass before he left home for the +university of the north. He spent them in steady work with Mr. +Simon. But the steadier his work, and the greater his enjoyment of +it, the dearer was his liberty, and the keener his delight in the +world around him. He worked so well that he could afford to dream +too; and his excursions and his imaginings alike took wide and +wider sweeps; while for both, ever in the near or far distance, lay +the harbour, the nest of his home. It drew him even when it lay +behind him, and he returned to it as the goal he had set out to +seek. It was as if, in every excursion or flight, he had but sought +to find his home afresh, to approach it by a new path. But--the +wind-fall?--nay, the God-send of the golden horse, gave him such a +feeling of wealth and freedom, that he now began to dream in a +fresh direction, namely, of things he would do if he were rich; and +as he was of a constructive disposition, his fancies in this +direction turned chiefly on the enlarging and beautifying of the +castle--but always with the impossibility understood of destroying +a feature of its ancient dignity and historic worth. + +A portion of the early summer he spent in enlarging the garden on +the south side or back of the house. One portion of the ground +there seemed to him to have been neglected--the part which lay +between the block in which was the kitchen, and that in which was +the drawing-room. These stood at right angles to each other, their +gables making two sides of a square. But he found the rock so near +the surface, that he could not utilize much of it. This set him +planning how the space might be used for building. In the angle, +the rock came above ground entirely, and had been made the +foundation of a wall connecting the two corners, to defend the +court--a thick strong wall of huge stones, that seemed as solid as +the rock. He grew fond of the spot, almost forsaking for it his +formerly favoured stone, and in the pauses of his gardening would +sit with his back against this wall, dreaming of the days to come. +Here also he would bring his book, and read or write for hours, +sometimes drawing plans of the changes and additions he would make, +of the passages and galleries that might be contrived to connect +the various portions of the house, and of the restoration of old +defences. The whole thing was about as visionary as his dream of +Tree-top-city, but it exercised his constructive faculty, and +exercise is growth, and growth in any direction, if the heart be +true, is growth in all directions. + +The days glided by. The fervid Summer slid away round the shoulder +of the world, and made room for her dignified matron sister; my +lady Autumn swept her frayed and discoloured train out of the great +hall-door of the world, and old brother Winter, who so assiduously +waits upon the house, and cleans its innermost recesses, was +creeping around it, biding his time, but eager to get to his work. +The day drew near when Cosmo must leave the house of his fathers, +the walls that framed almost all his fancies, the home where it was +his unchanging dream to spend his life, until he went to his mother +in heaven. + +I will not follow his intellectual development. The REAL education +of the youth is enough for my narrative. + +His mind was too much filled with high hopes and lofty judgments, +to be tempted like a common nature in the new circumstances in +which he found himself. There are not a few who, believing of +others as they are themselves, and teaching as they practise, +represent the youth of the nation as necessarily vile; but let not +the pure thence imagine there is no one pure but himself. There is +life in our nation yet, and a future for her yet, none the less +that the weak and cowardly and self-indulgent neither enter into +the kingdom of God, nor work any salvation in the earth. Cosmo left +the university at least as clean as he went to it. + +He had few companions. Those whom he liked best could not give him +much. They looked up to him far more than he knew, for they had avague +suspicion that he was a genius; but they ministered almost +only to his heart. The unworthy amongst his fellow-students scorned +him with looks askance, and called him Baby Warlock--for on more +than one of them he had literally turned his back when his +conversation displeased him. None of them however cared to pick a +quarrel with him. The devil finds it easier to persuade fools that +there is dignity in the knowledge of evil, and that ignorance of it +is contemptible, than to give them courage. Truly, if ignorance is +the foundation of any man's goodness, it is not worth the wind that +upsets it, but in its mere self, ignorance of evil is a negative +good. It is those who do not love good that require to be handed +over to evil. The grinders did not care about Cosmo, for neither +was he of their sort. Now and then, however, one of them would be +mildly startled by a request from him for assistance in some +passage, which, because he did not GO IN for what they counted +scholarship, they could hardly believe him interested. Cosmo +regarded everything from amidst associations of which they had +none. In his instinctive reach after life, he assimilated all food +that came in his way. His growing life was his sole impulsive after +knowledge. And already he saw a glimmer here and there in regions +of mathematics from which had never fallen a ray into the corner of +an eye of those grinding men. That was because he read books of +poetry and philosophy of which they had never heard. For the rest, +he passed his examinations creditably, and indeed, in more than one +case, with unexpected as unsought distinction. I must mention, +however, that he did all his set work first, and thoroughly, before +giving himself what he hungered after. + +Of society in the city he had no knowledge. Amongst the +tradespeople he made one or two acquaintances. + +His father had been so much pleased with the jeweller to whom he +parted with the golden horse, that he requested Cosmo to call upon +him as soon as he was settled. Cosmo found him a dignified old +gentleman--none the less of a gentleman, and all the more of a man, +that he had in his youth worked with his own hands. He took a +liking to Cosmo, and, much pleased with his ready interest in +whatever he told him, for Cosmo was never tired of listening to +anyone who talked of what he knew, made him acquainted with many +things belonging to his trade, and communicated many of his +experiences. Indifferent to the opinion of any to whom he had not +first learned to look up, nobody ever listened better than Cosmo to +any story of human life, however humble. Everybody seemed to him of +his own family. The greater was the revulsion of his feeling when +he came upon anything false in character or low in behaviour. He +was then severe, even to utter breach. Incapable of excusing +himself, he was incapable also of excusing others. But though +gentleness towards the faults of others is an indispensable fruit +of life, it is perhaps well it should be a comparatively late one: +there is danger of foreign excuse reacting on home conduct. Excuse +ought to be rooted in profoundest obedience, and outgoing love. To +say ANYTHING is too small to matter, is of the devil; to say +anything is too great to forgive, is not of God. He who would +soonest die to divide evil and his fellows, will be the readiest to +make for them all HONEST excuse. + +Cosmo liked best to hear Mr. Burns talk about precious stones. +There he was great, for he had a passion for them, and Cosmo was +more than ready to be infected with it. By the hour together would +he discourse of them; now on the different and comparative merits +of individual stones which had at one time and another passed +through his hands, and on the way they were cut, or ought to have +been cut; now on the conditions of size, shape, and water, as +indicating the special best way of cutting them; now on the various +settings, as bringing out the qualities of different kinds and +differing stones. + +One day he came upon the subject of the weather in relation to +stones: on such a sort of day you ought to buy this or that kind of +stone; on such another you must avoid buying this or that kind, and +seek rather to sell. + +Up to this moment, and the mention of this last point, Cosmo had +believed Mr. Burns an immaculate tradesman, but here the human gem +was turned at that angle to the light which revealed the flaw in +it. There are tradesmen not a few, irreproachable in regard to +money, who are not so in regard to the quality of their wares in +relation to the price: they take and do not give the advantage of +their superior knowledge; and well can I imagine how such a one +will laugh at the idea that he ought not: to him every customer is +more or less of a pigeon. + +"If I could but buy plenty of such sapphires," said Mr. Burns, "on +a foggy afternoon like this, when the air is as yellow as a +cairngorm, and sell them the first summer-like day of spring, I +should make a fortune in a very few years." + +"But you wouldn't do it, Mr. Burns?" Cosmo ventured to suggest, in +some foreboding anxiety, caused by the tone in which the man had +spoken: he would fain have an express repudiation of the advantage +thus to be obtained. + +"Why not?" rejoined Mr. Burns, lifting his keen gray eyes, with +some wonder in them, and looking Cosmo straight in the face. His +mind also was crossed by a painful doubt: was the young man a mere +innocent? was he "NO A' THERE?" + +"Because it is not honest," replied Cosmo. + +"Not honest!" exclaimed the jeweller, in a tone loud with anger, +and deep with a sense of injury--whether at the idea that he should +be capable of a dishonest thing, or at the possibility of having, +for honesty's sake, to yield a money-making principle, I do not +know; "I present the thing as it is, and leave my customer to judge +according to his knowledge. Is mine to be worth nothing to me? +There is no deception in the affair. A jeweller's business is not +like a horse-dealer's. The stone is as God made it, and the day is +as God made it, only my knowledge enables me to use both to better +purpose than my neighbour can." + +"Then a man's knowledge is for himself alone--for his own behoof +exclusively--not for the common advantage of himself and his +neighbour?" said Cosmo. + +"Mine is so far for my neighbour, that I never offer him a stone +that is not all I say it is. He gets the advantage of his +knowledge, let us say, in selling me wine, which he understands to +fit my taste with; and I get the advantage of my knowledge in +selling him the ring that pleases him. Both are satisfied. Neither +asks the other what he paid for this or that. But why make any +bones about it; the first acknowledged principle in business is, to +buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest." + +"Where does the love of your neighbour come in then?" + +"That has nothing to do with business; it belongs to the relations +of social life. No command must be interpreted so as to make it +impossible to obey it. Business would come to a stand-still--no man +could make a fortune that way." + +"You think then that what we are sent here for is to make a +fortune?" + +"Most people do. I don't know about SENT FOR. That's what, I fancy, +I find myself behind this counter for. Anyhow the world would +hardly go on upon any other supposition." + +"Then the world had better stop. It wasn't worth making," said +Cosmo. + +"Young man," rejoined Mr. Burns, "if you are going to speak +blasphemy, it shall not be on my premises." + +Bewildered and unhappy, Cosmo turned away, left the shop, and for +years never entered it again. + +Mr. Burns had been scrupulous to half a grain in giving Mr. Warlock +the full value of his gold and of his stones. Nor was this because +of the liking he had taken to the old gentleman. There are not a +few who will be carefully honest, to a greater or less compass, +with persons they like, but leave those they do not like to protect +themselves. But Mr. Burns was not of their sort. His interest in +the laird, and his wounded liking for Cosmo, did, however, cause +him to take some real concern in the moral condition of the latter; +while, at the same time, he was willing enough to think evil of him +who had denounced as dishonest one of his main principles in the +conduct of affairs. It but added venom to the sting of Cosmo's +words that although the jeweller was scarcely yet conscious of the +fact, he was more unwilling to regard as wrong the mode he had +defended, than capable of justifying it to himself. That same +evening he wrote to the laird that he feared his son must have +taken to keeping bad company, for he had that day spoken in his +shop in a manner most irreverent and indeed wicked--so as he would +never, he was certain, have dared to speak in his father's hearing. +But college was a terrible place for ruining the good principles +learned at home. He hoped Mr. Warlock would excuse the interest he +took in his son's welfare. Nothing was more sad than to see the +seed of the righteous turning from the path of righteousness--and +so on. + +The laird made reply that he was obliged to Mr. Burns for his +communication and the interest he took in his boy, but could only +believe there had been some mistake, for it was impossible his boy +should have been guilty of anything to which his father would apply +the epithets used by Mr. Burns. And so little did the thing trouble +the laird, that he never troubled Cosmo with a word on the +matter--only, when he came, home asked him what it meant. + +But in after days Cosmo repented of having so completely dropped +the old gentleman's acquaintance; he was under obligation to him; +and if a man will have to do only with the perfect, he must needs +cut himself first, and go out of the world. He had learned a good +deal from him, but nothing of art: his settings were good, but of +the commonest ideas. In the kingdom of heaven tradesmen will be +teachers, but on earth it is their business to make fortunes! But a +stone, its colour, light, quality, he enjoyed like a poet. Many +with a child's delight in pure colours, have no feeling for the +melodies of their arrangement, or the harmonies of their mingling. +So are there some capable of delight in a single musical tone, who +have but little reception for melody or complicate harmony. Whether +a condition analogical might not be found in the moral world, and +contribute to the explanation of such as Mr. Burns, I may not now +enquire. + +The very rainbow was lovelier to Cosmo after learning some of the +secrets of precious stones. Their study served also his +metaphysico-poetic nature, by rousing questions of the relations +between beauty fixed and beauty evanescent; between the beauty of +stones and the beauty of flowers; between the beauties of art, and +the beauties of sunsets and faces. He saw that where life entered, +it brought greater beauty, with evanescence and reproduction,--an +endless fountain flow and fall. Many were the strange, gladsome, +hopeful, corrective thoughts born in him of the gems in Mr. Burns's +shop, and he owed the reform much to the man whose friendship he +had cast from him. For every question is a door-handle. + +Cosmo lived as simply as at home--in some respects more hardly, +costing a sum for his maintenance incredibly small. Some may hint +that the education was on a par with the expense; and, if education +consists in the amount and accuracy of facts learned, and the worth +of money in that poor country be taken into the account, the hint +might be allowed to pass. But if education is the supply of +material to a growing manhood, the education there provided was all +a man needed who was man enough to aid his own growth; and for +those who have not already reached that point, it is matter of +infinite inconsequence what they or their parents find or miss. But +I am writing of a period long gone by. + +In his second year, willing to ease his father how--ever little, he +sought engagements in teaching; and was soon so far successful that +he had two hours every day occupied--one with a private pupil, and +the other in a public school. The master of that school used +afterwards to say that the laird of Glenwarlock had in him the +elements of a real teacher. But indeed Cosmo had more teaching +power than the master knew, for not in vain had he been the pupil +of Peter Simon--whose perfection stood in this, that he not only +taught, but taught to teach. Life is propagation. The perfect +thing, from the Spirit of God downwards sends ITSELF onward, not +its work only, but its life. And in the reaction Cosmo soon found +that, for making a man accurate, there is nothing like having to +impart what he possesses. He learned more by trying to teach what +he thought he knew, than by trying to learn what he was sure he did +not know. + +In his third year it was yet more necessary he should gain what +money he could. For the laird found that his neighbour, Lord +Lick-my-loof, had been straining every means in his power to get +his liabilities all into his own hands, and had in great part +succeeded. The discovery sent a pang to the heart of the laird, for +he could hardly doubt his lordship's desire was to foreclose every +mortgage, and compel him to yield the last remnant of the +possessions of his ancestors. He had refused him James Grade's +cottage, and he would have his castle! But the day was not yet +come; and as no one knew what was best for his boy, no one could +foretell what would come to pass, or say what deliverance might not +be in store for them! The clouds must break somehow, and then there +was the sun! So, as a hundred times before, he gathered heart, and +went on, doing his best, and trusting his hardest. + +The summers at home between the sessions, were times of paradise to +Cosmo. Now first he seemed to himself to begin to understand the +simple greatness of his father, and appreciate the teaching of Mr. +Simon. He seemed to descry the outlines of the bases on which they +stood so far above him. + +And now the question came up, what was Cosmo to do after he had +taken his degree. It was impossible he should remain at home. There +was nothing for him to do there, except the work of a farm +labourer. That he would have undertaken gladly, had the property +been secure, for the sake of being with his father; but the only +chance of relieving the land was to take up some profession. The +only one he had a leaning to was that of chemistry. This science +was at the time beginning to receive so much attention in view of +agricultural and manufacturing purposes, that it promised a sure +source of income to the man who was borne well in front upon its +rising tide. But alas, to this hope, money was yet required! A +large sum must yet be spent on education in that direction, before +his knowledge would be of money-value, fit for offer in the +scientific market! He must go to Germany to Liebig, or to Edinburgh +to Gregory! There was no money, and the plan was not, at least for +the present, to be entertained. There was nothing left but go on +teaching. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +A TUTORSHIP. + + +It cannot but be an unpleasant change for a youth, to pass from a +house and lands where he is son--ah, how much better than master! +and take a subordinate position in another; but the discipline is +invaluable. To meet what but for dignity would be humiliation, to +do one's work in spite of misunderstanding, and accept one's +position thoroughly, entrenching it with recognized duty, is no +easy matter. As to how Cosmo stood this ordeal of honesty, I will +only say that he never gave up trying to do better. + +His great delight and consolation were his father's letters, which +he treasured as if they had been a lover's, as indeed they were in +a much deeper and truer sense than most love-letters. The two wrote +regularly, and shared their best and deepest with each other. The +letters also of Mr. Simon did much to uplift him, and enable him to +endure and strive. + +Nobody knows what the relation of father and son may yet come to. +Those who accept the Christian revelation are bound to recognize +that there must be in it depths infinite, ages off being fathomed +yet. For is it not a reproduction in small of the loftiest mystery +in human ken--that of the infinite Father and infinite Son? If man +be made in the image of God, then is the human fatherhood and +sonship the image of the eternal relation between God and Jesus. + +One happy thing was that he had a good deal of time to himself. He +set his face against being with the children beyond school hours, +telling their parents it would be impossible for him otherwise to +do his work with that freshness which was as desirable for them as +for him. + +The situation his friends of the university had succeeded in +finding for him, was in the south of Scotland, almost on the +borders. His employers were neither pleasant nor interesting--but +more from stupidity than anything worse. Had they had some +knowledge of Cosmo's history, they would have taken pains to be +agreeable to him, for, having themselves nothing else, they made +much of birth and family. But Cosmo had no desire to come nearer +where it was impossible to be near, and was content with what they +accorded him as a poor student and careful teacher. They lived in +the quietest way; for the heir of the house, by a former marriage, +was a bad subject, and kept them drained of more than the +superfluous money about the place. + +Cosmo remained with them two years, and during that time did not go +home, for so there was the more money to send; but as he entered +his third year, he began to feel life growing heavy upon him, and +longed unspeakably after his father. + +One day, the last of the first quarter, Mr. Baird sent a message, +desiring his presence, and with some hesitation and difficulty +informed him that, because of certain circumstances over which +unhappily he had no control, he was compelled to dispense with his +services. He regretted the necessity much, he said, for the +children were doing well with him. He would always be glad to hear +from him, and know that he was getting on. A little indignant, for +his father's sake more than his own, Cosmo remarked that it was +customary, he believed, to give a tutor a quarter's notice, which +brought the reply, that nothing would please Mr. Baird better than +that he should remain another quarter--if it was any convenience to +him; but he had had great misfortunes within the last month, and +had no choice but beg him to excuse some delay in the payment of +his quarter's salary now due. In these circumstances he had thought +it the kindest thing to let him look out for another situation. + +Hearing this, Cosmo was sorry, and said what he could to make the +trouble, so far as he was concerned, weigh lightly. He did not know +that what he had fairly earned went to save a rascal from the +punishment he deserved--the best thing man could give him. Mr. +Baird judged it more for the honour of his family to come betweenthe +wicked and his deserts, than to pay the workman his wages. Of +that money Cosmo never received a farthing. The worst of it to to +him was, that he had almost come to the bottom of his purse--had +not nearly enough to take him home. + +[Illustration] + +He went to his room in no small perplexity. He could not, would not +trouble his father. There are not a few sons, I think, who would be +more considerate, were they trusted like Cosmo from the first, and +allowed to know thoroughly the circumstances of their parents. The +sooner mutual confidence is initiated the better. A servant knocked +at the door, and, true to the day, came the expected letter from +his father--this time enclosing one from Lady Joan. + +The Warlocks and she had never had sight of each other since the +dreary day she left them, but they had never lost hearing of each +other. Lady Joan retained a lively remembrance of her visit, and to +both father and son the occasional letter from her was a rare +pleasure. Some impression of the dignity and end of life had been +left with Joan from their influences, old man as was the one, and +child as was the other; and to the imagination of Cosmo she was +still the type of all beauty--such as his boyish eyes had seen her, +and his boyish heart received her. But from her letters seemed to +issue to the inner ear of the laird a tone of oppression for which +they gave him no means of accounting; while she said so little +concerning her outward circumstances, hardly ever even alluding to +her brother, that he could not but fear things did not go well with +her at home. The one he had now sent was even sad, and had so +touched his heart, that in his own he suggested the idea of Cosmo's +paying her a visit in his coming holidays. It might comfort her a +little, he said, to see one who cared so much, though he could do +so little for her. + +Cosmo jumped up, and paced about the room. What better could he do +than go at once! He had not known what to do next, and here was +direction! He was much more likely to find a situation in England +than in Scotland! And for his travelling expenses, he knew well how +to make a little go a great way! He wrote therefore to his father +telling him what had occurred, and saying he would go at once. The +moment he had dispatched his letter, he set about his preparations. +Like a bird the door of whose cage had been opened, he could hardly +endure his captivity one instant longer. To write and wait a reply +from Joan was simply impossible. He must start the very next +morning. Alas, he had no wings either real or symbolic, and must +foot it! It would take him days to reach Yorkshire, on the northern +border of which she lived, but the idea of such a journey, with +such a goal before him, not to mention absolute release from books +and boys, was entrancing. To set out free, to walk on and on for +days, not knowing what next would appear at any turn of the +road--it was like reading a story that came to life as you read it! +And then in the last chapter of it to arrive at the loveliest lady +in the world, the same whose form and face mingled with his every +day-dream--it was a chain of gold with a sapphire at the end of +it--a flowery path to the gate of heaven! + +That night he took his leave of the family, to start early in the +morning. The father and mother were plainly sorry; the children +looked grave, and one of them cried. He wrote to Mr. Baird once +after, but had no answer--nor ever heard anything of them but that +they had to part with everything, and retire into poverty. +It was a lovely spring morning when with his stick and his knapsack +he set out, his heart as light as that of the sky-lark that seemed +for a long way to accompany him. It was one after another of them +that took up the song of his heart and made it audible to his ears. +Better convoy in such mood no man could desire. He walked twenty +miles that day for a beginning, and slept in a little village, +whose cocks that woke him in the morning seemed all to have throats +of silver, and hearts of golden light. He increased his distance +walked every day, and felt as if he could go on so for years. + +But before he reached his destination, what people call a +misfortune befell him. I do not myself believe there is any +misfortune; what men call such is merely the shadow-side of a good. + +He had one day passed through a lovely country, and in the evening +found himself upon a dreary moorland. As night overtook him, it +came on to rain, and grew very cold. He resolved therefore to seek +shelter at the first house he came to; and just ere it was quite +dark, arrived at some not very inviting abodes on the brow of the +descent from the moor, the first of which was an inn. The landlady +received him, and made him as comfortable as she could, but as he +did not find his quarters to his taste, he rose even earlier than +he had intended, and started in a pouring rain. He had paid his +bill the night before, intending to break his fast at the first +shop where he could buy a loaf. + +The clouds were sweeping along in great gray masses, with yellow +lights between, and every now and then they would let the sun look +out for a moment, and the valley would send up the loveliest smile +from sweetest grass or growing corn, all wet with the rain that +made it strong for the sun. He saw a river, and bridges, and +houses, and in the distance the ugly chimneys of a manufacturing +town. Still it rained and still the sun would shine out. He had +grown very hungry before at length he reached a tiny hamlet, and in +it a cottage with a window that displayed loaves. He went in, took +the largest he saw, and was on the point of tearing a great piece +out of it, when he thought, it would be but polite to pay for it +first, and put his hand in his pocket. It was well he did so, for +in his pocket was no purse! Either it had been stolen at the inn, +or he had lost it on the way. He put down the loaf. + +"I am very sorry," he said, "but I find I have lost my purse." + +The woman looked him in the face with keen enquiring eyes; then +apparently satisfied with her scrutiny, smiled, and said, + +"Ne'er trouble yoursel', sir. Yo can pey mo as yo coom back. Awhope +you 'n lost noan so mich?" + +"Not much, but all I had," answered Cosmo. "I am much obliged to +you, but I'm not likely ever to be this way again, so I can't +accept your kindness. I am sorry to have troubled you, but after +all, I have the worst of it," he added, smiling, "for I am very +hungry." + +[Illustration: COSMO PROPOSES TO WORK FOR HIS DINNER.] + +As he spoke, he turned away, and had laid his hand on the latch of +the door, when the woman spoke again. + +"Tak th' loaf," she said; "it'll be aw the same in less than a +hunder year." + +She spoke crossly, almost angrily. Cosmo seemed to himself to +understand her entirely. Had she looked well-to-do, he would have +taken the loaf, promising to send the money; but he could not bring +himself to trouble the thoughts of a poor woman, possibly with a +large family, to whom the price of such a loaf must be of no small +consequence. He thanked her again, but shook his head. The woman +looked more angry than before: having constrained herself to give, +it was hard to be refused. + +"Yo micht tak what's offered yo!" she said. + +Cosmo stood thinking: was there any way out of the difficulty? +Almost mechanically he began searching his pockets: he had very few +THINGS either in his pockets or anywhere else. All his fingers +encountered was a penknife too old and worn to represent any value, +a stump of cedar-pencil, and an ancient family-seal his father had +given him when he left home. This last he took out, glanced at it, +felt that only the duty of saving his life could make him part with +it, put it back, turned once more, said "Good morning," and left +the shop. + +He had not gone many steps when he heard the shop-bell ring; the +woman came running after him. Her eyes were full of tears. What +fountain had been opened, I cannot tell; perhaps only that of +sympathy with the hungry youth. + +"Tak th' loaf," she said again, but in a very different voice this +time, and held it out to him. "Dunnot be vexed with a poor woman. +Sometimes hoo dunnot knaw wheer to get the bread for her own." + +"That's why I wouldn't take it," rejoined Cosmo. "If I had thought +you were well off, I would not have hesitated." + +"Oh! aw'm noan so pinched at present," she answered with a smile. +"Tak th' loaf, an' welcome, an' pey mo when yo' can." + +Cosmo put down her name and address in his pocket-book, and as he +took the loaf, kissed the toil-worn hand that gave it him. She +uttered a little cry of remonstrance, threw her apron over her +head, and went back to the house, sobbing. + +The tide rose in Cosmo's heart too, but he left the hamlet eating +almost ravenously. Another might have asked himself where dinner +was to come from, and spared a portion; but that was not Cosmo's +way. He would have given half his loaf to any hungry man he met, +but he would not save the half of it in view of a possible need +that might never come. Every minute is a to-morrow to the minute +that goes before it, and is bound to it by the same duty-roots that +make every moment one with eternity; but there is no more occasion +to bind minute to minute with the knot-grass of anxiety, than to +ruin both to-day and the grand future with the cares of a poor +imaginary to-morrow. To-day's duty is the only true provision for +to-morrow; and those who are careful about the morrow are but the +more likely to bring its troubles upon them by the neglect of duty +which care brings. Some say that care for the morrow is what +distinguishes the man from the beast; certainly it is one of the +many things that distinguish the slave of Nature from the child of +God. + +Cosmo ate his loaf with as hearty a relish as ever Grizzie's +porridge, and that is saying as much for his appetite, if not +necessarily for the bread, as words can. He had swallowed it almost +before he knew, and felt at first as if he could eat another, but +after a drink of water from a well by the road-side, found that he +had had enough, and strode on his way, as strong and able as if he +had had coffee and eggs and a cutlet, and a dozen things besides. + +He was passing the outskirts of the large manufacturing town he had +seen in the distance, leaving it on one hand, when he became again +aware of the approach of hunger. One of the distinguishing features +of Cosmo's character, was a sort of childlike boldness towards his +fellow-men; and coming presently to a villa with a smooth-shaven +lawn, and seeing a man leaning over the gate that opened from the +road, he went up to him and said, + +"Do you happen to have anything you want done about the place, sir? +I want my dinner and have no money." + +The man, one with whom the world seemed to have gone to his wish, +looked him all over. + +"A fellow like you ought to be ashamed to beg," he said. + +"That is precisely what I was not doing," returned Cosmo, "--except +as everybody more or less must be a beggar. It is one thing to beg +for work, and another to beg for food. I didn't ask you to make a +job for me; I asked if there was any work about the place you +wanted done. Good morning, sir." + +He turned, and the second time that day was stopped as he went. + +"I say!--if you can be as sharp with your work min' as you are with +your tongue, I don't care if I give you a job. Look here: my +coachman left me in a huff this morning, and it was time too, as I +find now he is gone. The stable is in a shocking mess: if you clean +it out, and set things to rights--but I don't believe you can--I +will give you your dinner." + +"Very well, sir," returned Cosmo. "I give you warning I'm very +hungry; only on the other hand, I don't care what I have to eat." + +"Look here," said the man: "your hands look a precious sight more +like loafing than work! I don't believe your work will be worth +your dinner." + +"Then don't give me any," rejoined Cosmo, laughing. "If the proof +of the pudding be in the eating, the proof of the stable must be in +the cleaning. Let me see the place." + +Much pondering what a fellow scouring the country with a decent +coat and no money could be, the dweller in the villa led the way to +his stable. + +In a mess that stable certainly was. + +"The new man is coming this evening," said the man, "and I would +rather he didn't see things in such a state. He might think +anything good enough after this! The rascal took to drink--and +that, young man," he added in a monitory tone, "is the end of all +things." + +"I'll soon set the place to rights," said Cosmo. "Let's see--where +shall I find a graip?" + +"A grape? what the deuce do you want with grapes in a stable?" + +"I forgot where I was, sir," answered Cosmo, laughing. "I am a +Scotchman, and so I call things by old-fashioned names. That is +what we call a three or four-pronged fork in my country. The word +comes from the same root as the German greifen, and our own grip, +and gripe, and grope, and grab--and grub too!" he added, "which in +the present case is significant." + +"Oh, you are a scholar--are you? Then you are either a Scotch +gardener on the tramp after a situation, or a young gentleman who +has made a bad use of his privileges!" + +"Do you found that conclusion on my having no money, or on my +readiness to do the first honest piece of work that comes to my +hand?" asked Cosmo, who having lighted on a tool to serve his +purpose, was already at work. "--But never mind! here goes for a +clean stable and a good dinner." + +"How do you know your dinner will be good?" + +"Because I am so ready for it." + +"If you're so sharp set, I don't mind letting you have a snack +before you go further," said his employer. + +"No, thank you, sir," replied Cosmo; "I am too self-indulgent to +enjoy my food before I have finished my work." + +"Not a bad way of being self-indulgent, that!" said the man. "--But +what puzzles me is, that a young fellow with such good principles +should be going about the country like--" + +"Like a tinker--would you say, sir--or like Abraham of old when he +had no abiding city?" + +"You seem to know your Bible too!--Come now, there must be some +reason for your being adrift like this!" + +"Of course there is, sir; and if I were sure you would believe me, +I would tell you enough to make you understand it." + +"A cautious Scotchman!" + +"Yes. Whatever I told you, you would doubt; therefore I tell you +nothing." + +"You have been doing something wrong!" said the man. + +"You are rude," returned Cosmo quietly, without stopping his work. +--"But," he resumed, "were YOU never in any difficulty? Have you +always had your pockets full when you were doing right? It is not +just to suspect a man because he is poor. The best men have rarely +been rich." + +Receiving no reply, Cosmo raised his head. The man was gone. + +"Somebody has been telling him about me!" he said to himself, and +went. For the stable Cosmo was then cleaning out, the horses that +lived in it, and the house to which it belonged, were the proceeds +of a late judicious failure. + +He finished his job, set everything right as far as he could, and +going to the kitchen door, requested the master might be invited to +inspect his work. But the master only sent orders to the cook to +give the young man his dinner, and let him go about his business. + +Cosmo ate none the less heartily, for it was his own; and cook and +maid were more polite than their master. He thanked them and went +his way, and in the strength of that food walked many miles into +the night--for now he set no goal before him but the last. + +It was a clear, moonless, starry night, cold after the rain, but +the easier to walk in. The wind now and then breathed a single +breath and ceased; but that breath was piercing. He buttoned his +coat, and trudged on. The hours went and went. He could not be far +from Cairncarque, and hoped by break of day to be, if not within +sight of it, at least within accurate hearing of it. + +Midnight was not long past when a pale old moon came up, and looked +drearily at him. For some time he had been as if walking in a +dream; and now the moon mingled with the dream right strangely. +Scarce was she above the hill when an odd-shaped cloud came upon +her; and Cosmo's sleep-bewildered eyes saw in the cloud the body +and legs of James Gracie's cow, straddling across the poor, +withered heel-rind of the moon. Then another cloud, high among the +stars, began to drop large drops of rain upon his head. "That's the +reid gowd rainin'," he said to himself. He was gradually sinking +under the power of invading sleep. Every now and then he would come +to himself for the briefest instant, and say he must seek some +shelter. The next moment he was asleep again. He had often wondered +that horses could get over the road and sleep: here he was doing it +himself and not wondering at all! The wind rose, and blew sharp +stings of rain in his face, which woke him up a little. He looked +about him. Had he been going through a town, who would have taken +him in at that time of the midnight-morning? and here he was in a +long lane without sign of turning! To him it had neither beginning +nor end, like a lane in a dream. It might be a lane in a dream! He +could remember feeling overwhelmed with sleep in a dream! Still he +did not think he was dreaming: for one thing, he had never been so +uncomfortable in a dream! + +The lane at last opened on a triangular piece of sward, looking +like a village green. In the middle of it stood a great old tree, +with a bench round it. He dropped on the bench and was asleep in a +moment. + +The wind blew, and the rain fell. Cold and discomfort ruled his dim +consciousness, but he slept like one of the dead. When the sun +rose, it found him at full length on the bare-worn earth at the +foot of the tree. But, shining full upon him, it did not for a long +time break his sleep. When at last it yielded and he came to +himself, it was to the consciousness of a body that was a burden, +of a tabernacle that ached as if all its cords were strained, yet +all its stakes loosened. With nightmare difficulty he compelled his +limbs to raise him, and then was so ill able to govern them, that +he staggered like a drunken man, and again and again all but +dropped. Such a night's-rest after such a day's-weariness had all +but mastered him. + +[Illustration: "He dropped on the bench."] + +Seeing a pond in the green, he made for it, and having washed his +face, felt a little revived. On the other side of the green, he saw +a little shop, in the unshuttered window of which was bread. +Mechanically he put his hand in his pocket. To his surprise, he +found there sixpence: the maid that waited on him at dinner had +dropped it in. Rejoiced by the gift, he tried to run, to get some +warmth into his limbs, but had no great success. The moment the +shop was opened, he spent his sixpence, and learned that he was but +about three miles off the end of his journey. He set out again +therefore with good courage; but alas! the moment he tried to eat, +mouth and throat and all refused their office. He had no +recollection of any illness, but this was so unlike his usual self, +that he could not help some apprehension. As he walked he got a +little better, however, and trudged manfully on. By and by he was +able to eat a bit of bread, and felt better still. But as he +recovered, he became aware that with fatigue and dirt his +appearance must be disreputable in the extreme. How was he to +approach Lady Joan in such a plight? If she recognized him at once, +he would but be the more ashamed! What could she take him for but a +ne'er-do-weel, whose character had given way the moment he left the +guardianship of home, and who now came to sponge upon her! And if +he should be ill! He would rather lie down and die on the roadside +than present himself dirty and ill at Cairncarque!--rather go to +the workhouse, than encounter even the momentary danger of such a +misunderstanding! These reflections were hardly worthy of the faith +he had hitherto shown, but he was not yet perfect, and unproved +illness had clouded his judgment. + +Coming to a watering-place for horses on the roadside, he sat down +by it, and opening his bag, was about to make what little of a +toilet was possible to him--was thinking whether he might venture, +as it seemed such a lonely road, to change his shirt, when round a +near corner came a lady, walking slowly, and reading as she came. +It was she! And there he stood without coat or waistcoat! To speak +to her thus would be to alarm her! He turned his back, and began to +wash in the pool, nor once dared look round. He heard her slowly +pass, fancied he heard her stop one step, felt her presence from +head to foot, and washed the harder. When he thought she was far +enough off, he put on the garments he had removed, and hastened +away, drying himself as he went. + +At the turn of the road, all at once rose the towers of +Cairncarque. There was a castle indeed!--something to call a +castle!--with its huge square tower at every corner, and its still +huger two towers in the middle of its front, its moat, and the +causeway where once had been its drawbridge!--Yes! there were the +spikes of the portcullis, sticking down from the top of the +gateway, like the long upper teeth of a giant or ogre! That was a +real castle--such as he had read of in books, such as he had seen +in pictures! + +Castle Warlock would go bodily into half a quarter of it--would be +swallowed up like a mouthful, and never seen again! Castle Warlock +was twice as old--that was something! but why had not Lady Joan +told him hundreds of stories about Cairncarque, instead of letting +him gabble on about their little place? But she could not love her +castle as he did his, for she had no such father in it! That must +be what made the difference! That was why she did not care to talk +about it! Was he actually going to see her again? and would she be +to him the same as before? For him, the years between had vanished; +the entrancing shadows of years far away folded him round, and he +was no more a man, but the boy who had climbed the wintry hills +with her, and run down them again over the snow hand in hand with +her. But as he drew nigh the great pile, which grew as he +approached it, his heart sank within him. His head began to ache: a +strange diffidence seized him; he could not go up to the door. He +would not mind, he said to himself, if Joan would be there the +moment the door opened. But would any servant in England admit a +fellow like him to the presence of a grand lady? How could he walk +up to the great door in the guise of one who had all night had his +lodging on the cold ground! He would reconnoitre a little, find +some quiet way of approaching the house, perhaps discover some +shelter where he might rectify what was worst in his personal +appearance! He turned away therefore from the front of the castle, +and following the road that skirted the dilapidated remnants of +fortification, passed several farmlike sheds, and arrived at a door +in a brick wall, apparently that of a garden--ancient, and green +and gray with lichens. Looking through it with the eyes of his +imagination, he saw on the other side the loveliest picture of +warmth, order, care, and ancient peace,--regions stately with yews +and cedars, fruit-trees and fountains, clean-swept walks and shady +alleys. The red wall, mottled and clouded with its lichens, and +ruffed with many a thready weed, looked like the reverse of some +bit of gorgeous brocade, on the sunny side of which must hang +blossoming peaches and pears, nectarines and apricots and apples, +on net-like trees, that spread out great obedient arms and +multitudinous twigs against it, holding on by it, and drinking in +the hot sunshine it gathered behind them. Ah, what it would be to +have such a garden at Glenwarlock! + +He turned to the door, with difficulty opened it, and the vision +vanished. Not a few visions vanish when one takes them for fact, +and not for the vision of fact that has to be wrought out with the +energy of a God-born life. + +[Illustration: 'He Turned to the Door'] + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE GARDENER. + + +There was a garden indeed, but a garden whose ragged, ugly, +degraded desolation looked as if the devil had taken to gardening +in it. Rather than a grief, it was a pain and disgust to see. +Fruit-trees there were on the wall, but run wild with endless +shoots, which stuck like a hog's mane over the top of it, and out +in every direction from the face of it with a look of impertinent +daring. All the fastenings were broken away, and only the old +branches, from habit, kept their places against it. Everything all +about seemed striving back to a dear disorder and salvage liberty. +The walks were covered with weeds, and almost impassable with +unpruned branches, while here lay a heap of rubbish, there a +smashed flower-pot, here a crushed water-pot, there a broken +dinner-plate. Following a path that led away from the wall, he came +upon a fountain without any water, in a cracked basin dry as a +lizard-haunted wall, a sundial without a gnomon, leaning wearily +away from the sun, a marble statue without a nose, and streaked +about with green: like an army of desolation in single file, they +revealed to Cosmo the age-long neglect of the place. Next appeared +a wing built out from the back of the inner court of the castle--in +a dilapidated, almost dangerous condition. Then he came to a great +hedge of yew, very lofty, but very thin, like a fence of old wire +that had caught cart-loads of withered rubbish in its meshes. Here +he heard the sound of a spade, and by the accompanying sounds +judged the implement was handled by an old man. He peeped through +the hedge, and caught sight of him. Old he was--bent with years, +but tough, wiry, and sound, and it seemed to Cosmo that the sighs +and groans, or rather grunts, which he uttered, were more of +impatience and discontent than oppression or weakness. As he stood +regarding him for a moment, anxious to discover with what sort of +man he had to deal, he began to mutter. Presently he ceased +digging, drew himself up as straight as he could, and, leaning on +his spade, went on, as if addressing his congregation of cabbages +over the book-board of a pulpit. And now his muttering took, to the +ears of Cosmo, an indistinct shape like this: + +"Wha cares for an auld man like me? I kenna what for there sud be +auld men made! The banes o' me micht melt i' the inside o' me, an' +never a sowl alive du mair for me nor berry me to get rid o' the +stink! No 'at I'm that dooms auld i' mysel' them 'at wad hae my +place wad hae me!" + +Here was a chance for him, Cosmo thought; for at least here was a +fellow-countryman. He went along the hedge therefore until he found +a place where he could get through, and approached the man, who had +by this time resumed his work, though after a listless fashion, +turning over spadeful after spadeful, as if neither he nor the +cabbages cared much, and all would be in good time if done by the +end of the world. As he came nearer, Cosmo read peevishness and +ill-temper in every line of his countryman's countenance, yet he +approached him with confidence, for Scotchmen out of their own +country are of good report for hospitality to each other. + +"Hoo's a' wi' ye?" he cried, sending his mother-tongue as a +pursuivant in advance. + +"Wha's speirin? an' what richt hae ye to speir?" returned the old +man in an angry voice, and lifting himself quickly, though with an +aching sigh, looked at him with hard blue eyes. + +"A countryman o' yer ain," answered Cosmo. + +"Mony ane's that 'at's naething the better nor the walcomer. Gie an +accoont o' yersel', or the doags'll be lowsed upo' ye here in a +jiffey. Haith, this is no the place for lan'loupers!" + +"Hae ye been lang aboot the place?" asked Cosmo. + +"Langer nor ye're like to be, I'm thinkin', gien ye keep na the +ceeviler tongue i' yer heid, my man--Whaur come ye frae?" + +The old man had dropt his spade; Cosmo took it up, and began to +dig. + +"Lay doon that spaud," cried its owner, and would have taken it +from him, but Cosmo delayed rendition. + +"Hoot, man!" he said, "I wad but lat ye see I'm nae lan'louper, an' +can weel han'le a spaud. Stan' ye by a bit, an' rist yer banes, +till I caw throuw a trifle o' yer wark." + +"An' what du ye expec' to come o' that? Ye're efter something, as +sure's the deevil at the back yelt, though ye're nae freely sae +sure to win at it." + +"What I expec,' it wad be ill to say; but what I dinna expec' is to +be traitit like a vaggabon. Come, I'll gie ye a guid hoor's wark +for a place to wash mysel', an' put on a clean sark." + +"Hae ye the sark?" + +"_I_ HAE't here i' my bag." + +"An' what du ye want to put on a clean sark for? What'll ye du whan +ye hae't on?" + +"Gie ye anither hoor's wark for the heel o' a loaf an' a drink o' +watter." + +"Ye'll be wantin' to be taen on, I s' wad (WAGER) ye a worm!" + +"Gien ye cud gie me a day's wark, or maybe twa,--" began Cosmo, +thinking how much rather he would fall in with Lady Joan about the +garden than go up to the house. + +"I weel thoucht there sud be mair intil't nor appeart! Ye wad fain +hae the auld man's shune, an' mak sur o' them afore he kickit them +frae him! Ay! It's jist like the likes o' ye! Mine's a place the +like o' you's keen set efter! Ye think it's a' ait an' play! Gang +awa' wi' ye, an' latna me see the face o' ye again, or I s' ca' to +them 'at 'll tak accoont o' ye." + +"Hoot, man!" returned Cosmo, and went on turning the ground over, +"ye're unco hard upon a neebor!" + +"Neebor! ye're no neebor o' mine! Gang awa' wi' ye, I tell ye!" + +"Did naebody never gie' YOU a helpin' han','at ye're sae dooms hard +upo' ane 'at needs ane?" + +"Gien onybody ever did, it wasna you." + +"But dinna ye think ye're a kin' o' b'un' to du the like again?" + +"Ay, to him 'at did it--but I tell ye ye're no the man; sae gang +aboot yer business." + +"Someday ye may want somebody ance mair to du ye a guid turn!" + +"I hae dune a heap to gie me a claim on consideration. I hae grown +auld upo' the place. What hae YE dune, my man?" + +"I wadna hae muckle chance o' duin' onything, gien a' body was like +you. But did ye never hear tell o' ane 'at said:'Ye wad du naething +for nane o' mine, sae ye refeesed mysel'?" + +"Deed, an' I wull refeese yersel'," returned the old man. "Sic a +chield for jaw an'cheek--saw I never nane--as the auld sang says! +Whaur on this earth cam ye frae?" + +As he spoke, he gave Cosmo a round punch on the shoulder next him +that made him look from his work, and then began eying him up and +down in the most supercilious manner. He was a small, withered, +bowed man, with a thin wizened face, crowned by a much worn fur +cap. His mouth had been so long drawn down at each corner as by +weights of discontent, that it formed nearly a half-circle. His +eyebrows were lifted as far as they would go above his red-lidded +blue eyes, and there was a succession of ripply wrinkles over each +of them, which met in the middle of his forehead, so that he was +all over arches. Under his cap stuck out enormous ears, much too +large for his face. Huge veiny hands hung trembling by his sides, +but they trembled more from anger than from age. + +"I tellt ye a'ready," answered Cosmo; "I come frae the auld +country." + +"Deil tak the auld country! What care I for the auld country! It's +a braid place, an' langer nor it's braid, an' there's mony ane +intil't an' oot on't 'at's no warth the parritch his mither pat +intil 'im. Eh, the fowth o' fushionless beggars I hae seen come to +me like yersel'!--Ow ay! it was aye wark they wad hae!--an' cudna +du mair nor a flee amo' triacle!--What coonty are ye frae, wi' the +lang legs an' the lang back-bane o' ye?" + +Cosmo told him. The hands of the old man rose from his sides, and +made right angles of his elbows. + +"Weel," he said slowly, "that's no an ill coonty to come frae. I +may say THAT, for I belang til't my--sel'. But what pairt o' 't ran +ye frae whan ye cam awa'?" + +"I ran frae nae pairt, but I cam frae hame i' the north pairt o' +that same," answered Cosmo, and bent again to his work. + +The man came a step nearer, and Cosmo, without looking up, was +aware he was regarding him intently. + +"Ay! ay!" he said at last, in a tone of reflection mingled with +dawning interest, "I ance kent a terrible rascal cam frae owerby +that gait: what ca' they the perris ye're frae?" + +Cosmo told him. + +"Lord bless me!" cried the old man, and came close up to him.--"But +na!" he resumed, and stepped a pace back, "somebody's been tellin +ye!" + +Cosmo gave him no answer. He stood a moment expecting one, then +broke out in a rage. + +"What for mak ye nae answer whan a body speirs ye a queston? That +wasna mainners whan I was a bairn. Lord! ye micht as weel be +ceevil! Isna it easy eneuch to lee?" + +"I would answer no man who was not prepared to believe me," said +Cosmo quietly. + +The dignity of his English had far more effect on the man than the +friendliness of their mother-tongue. + +"Maybe ye wadna objec' to mak mention by name o' the toon nearest +to ye whan ye was at hame?" said the old man, and from his altered +manner and tone Cosmo felt he might reply. + +"It was ca'd Muir o' Warlock," he answered. + +"Lord, man! come into the hoose. Ye maun be sair in need o' +something to put intil ye! A' the gait frae Muir o' Warlock! A +toonsman o' my ain! Scot--lan' 's a muckle place--but Muir o' +Warlock! Guid guide's! Come in, man; come in!" + +So saying he took the spade from Cosmo's hands, threw it down with +a contemptuous cast, and led the way towards the house. + +The old man had a heart after all! Strange the power of that +comparatively poor thing, local association, to bring to light the +eternal love at the root of the being! Wonderful sign also of the +presence of God wherever a child may open eyes! This man's heart +was not yet big enough to love a Scotsman, but it was big enough to +love a Muir-o'-Warlock-man; and was not that a precious beginning? +--a beginning as good as any? It matters nothing where or how one +begins, if only one does begin! There are many, doubtless, who have +not yet got farther in love than their own family; but there are +others who have learned that for the true heart there is neither +Frenchman nor Englishman, neither Jew nor Greek, neither white nor +black--only the sons and daughters of God, only the brothers and +sisters of the one elder brother. There may be some who have +learned to love all the people of their own planet, but have not +yet learned to look with patience upon those of Saturn or Mercury; +while others there must be, who, wherever there is a creature of +God's making, love each in its capacity for love--from the +arch-angel before God's throne, to the creeping thing he may be +compelled to destroy--from the man of this earth to the man of some +system of worlds which no human telescope has yet brought within +the ken of heaven-poring sage. And to that it must come with every +one of us, for not until then are we true men, true women--the +children, that is, of him in whose image we are made. + +Cosmo followed very willingly, longing for water and a +clothes-brush rather than for food. The cold and damp, fatigue and +exposure of the night were telling upon him more than he knew, and +all the time he was at work, he had been cramped by hitherto +unknown pains in his limbs. + +The gardener brought him to the half-ruinous wing already +mentioned, to a small kitchen, opening under a great sloping +buttress, and presented him to his wife, an English woman, some ten +years younger than himself. She received him with a dignified +retraction of the feelers, but the moment she understood his needs, +ministered to them, and had some breakfast ready for him by the +time he had made his toilet. He sat down by her little fire, and +drank some tea, but felt shivery, and could not eat. In dread lest, +if he yielded a moment to the invading sickness, it should at once +overpower him, he made haste to get out again into the sun, and +rejoined the old man, who had gone back to his cabbage-ground. +There he pulled off his coat, and once more seized the spade, for +work seemed the only way of meeting his enemy hand to hand. But the +moment he began, he was too hot, and the moment he took breath he +was ready to shiver. As long as he could stand, however, he would +not give in. + +"How many years have you been gardener here?" he asked, forcing +himself to talk. + +"Five an' forty year, an' I'm nearhan' tired o' 't." + +"The present lord is a young man, is he not?" + +"Ay; he canna be muckle ayont five an' thirty." + +"What sort of a man is he?" + +"Weel, it's hard to say. He's ane o' them 'at naebody says weel o', +an' naebody's begud to say ill o'--yet." + +"There can't be much amiss with him then, surely!"' + +"Weel, I wadna gang freely sae far as say that, You 'at's a man o' +sense, maun weel un'erstan', gien it was only frae yer carritchis +(catechism), 'at there's baith sins o' o-mission, an' sins o' +co-mission. Noo, what sins o' co-mission may lie at my lord's door, +I dinna ken, an' feow can ken, an' we're no to jeedge; but for the +o-mission, ye hae but to see hoo he neglects that bonny sister o' +his, to be far eneuch frae thinkin' a sant o' 'im." + +Silence followed. Cosmo would go no farther in that direction: it +would be fair neither to Lady Joan nor the gardener, who spoke as +to one who knew nothing of the family. + +"Noo the father," resumed his new friend, "--puir man, he's deid an' +damned this mony a day!--an' eh, but he was an ill ane!--but as to +Leddy Joan, he wad hardly bide her oot o' his sicht. He cudna be +jist that agreeable company to the likes o' her, puir leddy! for he +was a rouch-spoken, sweirin' auld sinner as ever lived, but sic as +he had he gae her, an' was said to hae been a fine gentleman in's +yoong days. Some wad hae 't he cheenged a' thegither o' a suddent. +An' they wad hae 't it cam o' bluid-guiltiness--for they said he +had liftit the reid han' agen his neebor. An' they warnt me, lang +as it was sin' I left it, no to lat 'im ken I cam frae yon pairt o' +the country, or he wad be rid o' me in a jiffey, ae w'y or anither. +--Ay, it was a gran' name that o' Warlock i' thae pairts! though +they tell me it gangs na for sae muckle noo. I hae h'ard said,'at +ever sin' the auld lord here made awa' wi' the laird o' +Glen--warlock, the faimily there never had ony luck. I wad like to +ken what you, as a man o' sense, think o' that same. It appears to +me a' some queer kin' o' justice! No' 'at I'm daurin' or wad daur +to say a word agen the w'y 'at the warl's goverrnt, but there's +some things 'at naebody can un'erstan'--I defy them!--an' yon's ane +o' them--what for, cause oor graceless auld lord--he was yoong +than--tuik the life o' the laird o' Glenwarlock, the faimily o' +Warlock sud never thrive frae that day to this!--Read me that +riddle, yoong man, gien ye can." + +"Maybe it was to haud them 'at cam efter frae ony mair keepin' o' +sic ill company," Cosmo ventured to suggest; for, knowing what his +father was, and something also of what most of those who preceded +him were, he could see no such inscrutable dispensation in the fact +mentioned. + +"That wad be hard lines, though," insisted the gardener, unwilling +to yield the unintelligibility of the ways of providence. + +"But," said Cosmo, "they say doon there, it was a brither o' the +laird, no the laird himsel','at the English lord killt." + +"Na, na; they're a' wrang there, whaever says that. For auld Jean, +wham I min' a weel faured wuman, though doobtless no sae bonny as +whan he broucht her wi' 'im a yoong lass--maybe to gar her haud her +tongue--auld Jean said as I say. But that was lang efter the thing +was ower auld to be ta'en ony notice o' mair. Forby, you 'at's a +man o' sense, gien it wasna the laird himsel' 'at he killt, hoo wad +there, i' that case, be onything worthy o' remark i' their no +thrivin' efter't? I' that case, the no thrivin' cud hae had +naething ava to du wi' the killin'. Na, na, it was the laird +himsel' 'at the maisier killt--the father o' the present laird, I'm +thinkin'. What aged-man micht he be--did ye ever hear tell?" + +"He's a man well on to seventy," answered Cosmo, with a pang at the +thought. + +"Ay; that'll be aboot it! There can be no doobt it was his father +oor lord killt--an' as little 'at efter he did it he gaed doon the +braid ro'd to the deevil as fest's ever he cud rin. It was jist +like as wi' Judas--he maun gang till's ain. Some said he had sellt +himsel' to the deevil, but I'm thinkin' that wasna necessar'. He +was to get him ony gait! An' wad ye believe't, it's baith said and +believt--'at he cam by's deith i' some exterordnar w'y, no +accoontable for, but plainly no canny. Ae thing's sure as deith +itsel', he was ta'en suddent, an' i' the verra hoose whaur, mony a +lang year afore, he commitit the deed o' darkness!" + +A pause followed, and then the narrator, or rather commentator, +resumed. + +"I'm thinkin' whan he begud to ken himsel' growin' auld, his deed +cam back upon 'im fresh-like, an' that wad be hoo he cudna bide to +hae my lady oot o' the sicht o' his een, or at least ayont the cry +o' his tongue. Troth! he wad whiles come aboot the place efter her, +whaur I wad be at my wark, as it micht be the day, cursin' an' +sweirin' as gien he had sellt his sowl to a' the deevils thegither, +an' sae micht tak his wull o' onything he cud get his tongue roon'! +But I never heedit him that muckle, for ye see it wasna him 'at +peyt me--the mair by token 'at gien it had been him 'at had the +peyin' o' me, it's never a baubee wad I hae seen o' my ain siller; +but the trustees peyt me, ilka plack, an' sae I was indepen'ent +like, an' luit him say his say. But it was aye an oonsaitisfactory +kin' o' a thing, for the trustees they caredna a bodle aboot +keepin' the place dacent, an' tuik sae sma' delicht in ony +pleesurin' o' the auld lord,'at they jist allooed him me, an' no a +man mair nor less--to the gairden, that is. That's hoo the place +comes to be in sic a disgracefu' condeetion. Gien it hadna been for +rizzons o' my ain, I wad hae gane, mony's the time, for the sicht +o' the ruin o' things was beyon' beirin'. But I bude to beir't; sae +I bore't an' bore't till I cam by beirin' o' 't to tak it verra +quaiet, an' luik upo' the thing as the wull o' a Providence 'at +sudna be meddlet wi'. I broucht mysel' in fac' to that degree o' +submission,'at I gae mysel' no trouble more, but jist confint my +ainergies to the raisin' o' the kail an' cabbage, the ingons an' +pitawtas wantit aboot the place." + +"And are things no better," asked Cosmo, "since the present lord +succeeded?" + +"No a hair--'cep' it be 'at there's no sae mony ill words fleein' +aboot the place. My lord never sets his nose intil the gairden, or +speirs--no ance in a twal--month, hoo's things gangin' on. He does +naething but rowt aboot in 's boaratory as he ca's 't--bore-a-whig, +or bore-a-tory, it's little to me--makin' stinks there fit to +scomfish a whaul, an' gar 'im stick his nose aneth the watter for a +glamp o' fresh air. He's that hard-hertit 'at he never sae muckle +as aits his denner alongside o' his ain sister,'cep' it be whan he +has company, an' wad luik like ither fowk. Gien it gaedna ower weel +wi' her i' the auld man's time, it gangs waur wi' her noo; for sae +lang as he was abune the yird there was aye somebody to ken whether +she was livin' or deid. To see a bonnie lass like her strayin' +aboot the place nae better companied nor wi' an auld buik--it's +jist eneuch to brak a man's hert, but that age kills rage." + +"Do the neighbours take no notice of her?" + +"Nane o' her ain dignity, like. Ye see she's naething but bonny. +She HAS naething. An' though she's as guid a cratur as ever lived, +the cauld grun' o' her poverty gaithers the fog o' an ill report. +Troth, for her faimily, the ill's there, report or no report; but, +a' the same, gien she had been rich, an' her father--I'll no say +the hangman, but him 'at he last hangt, there wad be fowth (PLENTY) +o' coonty-fowk wad hae her til her denner wi' them. An' I'm +thinkin' maybe she's the prooder for her poverty, an' winna gang +til her inferriors sae lang as her aiquals dinna invete her. She +gangs whiles to the doctor's--but he's a kin' o' a freen' o' the +yerl's,'cause he likes stinks--but that's the yoong doctor." + +"Does her brother never go out to dinner anywhere, and take her +with him?" + +"Naebody cares a bodle aboot his lordship i' the haill +country-side, sae far as I can learn. There's ane or twa--great +men, I daursay--whiles comes doon frea Lon'on, to smell hoo he's +gettin' on wi' 's stinks, but deil a neebor comes nigh the hoose. +Ow, he's a great man, I mak nae doobt, awa' frae hame! He's aye +writin' letters to the newspapers, an' they prent them--aboot this +an' aboot that--aboot beasties i' the watter, an' lectreesity, an' +I kenna what a'; an' some says 'at hoo he'll be a rich man some +day, the moment he's dune fin'in' oot something or ither he's +beenwarslin' at for the feck o' a ten year or sae; but the gentry +never thinks naething o' a man sae lang as he's only duin' his +best--or his warst, as the case may be--to lay his han' upo' the +siller 'at's fleein' aboot him like a snaw-drift. Bide ye a bit, +though! WHAN he's gotten't, it's doon they're a' upo' their k-nees +til 'im thegither. But gien they be prood, he's prooder, an' lat +him ance get his heid up, an' rid o' the trustees, an' fowk upo' +their marrow--banes til 'im, haith, he'll lat them sit there, or +I'm mistaen in 'im." + +"Then has my lady no companions at all?" + +"She gangs whiles to see the doctor's lass, an' whiles she comes +here an' has her denner wi' her, themsel's twa: never anither comes +near the place." + +All this time, Cosmo had been turning over the cabbage-ground, +working the harder that he still hoped to work off the sickness +that yet kept growing upon him. The sun was hot, and his head, +which had been aching more or less all day, now began to throb +violently. + +The spade dropt from his hands, and he fell on his face in the soft +mould. + +"What's this o' 't?" cried the old man, going up to him in a fright. + +He caught hold of him by an arm, and turned him on his back. His +face was colourless, and the life seemed to have gone out of him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +LOST AND FOUND. + + +When Cosmo came to himself, he had not a notion where he was, +hardly indeed knew what he was. His chief consciousness was of an +emptiness and a weight combined, that seemed to paralyze him. He +would have turned on his side, but felt as if a ponderous heap of +bed-clothes prevented him from even raising an arm--and yet he was +cold. He tried to think back, to find what he knew of himself last, +but could for a long time recall only a confused dream of +multitudinous discomfort and painful effort. At last, however, came +the garden, the spade-work, and the old man's talk; and then it +seemed as if the cracked complaining voice had never left his ears. + +"I've been ill!" he said to himself. "Perhaps I dropped down. I +hope they haven't buried me!" + +With a straining agony of will he got in motion an arm, which was +lying like that of another man outside the coverlid, and felt +feebly about him. His hand struck against something solid, and what +seemed a handful of earth fell with a hollow rumble. Alas, this +seemed ominous! Where could he be but in his coffin? The thought +was not a pleasant one, certainly, but he was too weak, and had +been wandering too long in the miserable limbo of vain fancies, to +be much dismayed. He said to himself he would not have to suffer +long--he must soon go to sleep, and so die. + +Fatigued with that one movement, he lay for some time motionless. +His eyes were open, though he did not know it, and by and by he +became aware of light. Thin, dim, darkly gray, a particle at a +time, it grew about him. For some minutes his eyes seemed of +themselves, without any commission from him, to make inquiry of his +surroundings. They discovered that, if he was in a coffin, or even +in a sepulchre without a coffin, it was a large one: there was a +wall--miles away! The light grew, and with it the conviction that +he was in no sepulchre. But there the consolation ceased, for the +still growing light revealed no sign of ministration or comfort. +Above him was a bare, dirty, stained ceiling, with a hole in it, +through which stuck skeleton ribs of lath; around him were bare, +dirty-white walls, that seemed to grow out of the gray light of a +wet morning as the natural deposit from such a solution. Two +slender poles, meant to support curtains, but without a rag of +drapery upon them, rose at his feet, like the masts of a Charon's +boat. Was he indeed in the workhouse he had pre--ferred to +Cairncarque? It could hardly be, for there was the plaster fallen +in great patches from the walls as well as the ceiling, and surely +no workhouse would be allowed to get into such a disrepair! He +tried again, and this time succeeded in turning on his side, +discovering in the process how hard the bed was, and how sharp his +bones. A wooden chair stood a little beyond his reach, and upon it +a bottle and teacup. Not another article could he discover. Right +under the hole in the ceiling a board was partly rotted away in the +floor, and a cold, damp air, smelling of earth, and decaying wood, +seemed to come steaming up through it. A few minutes more, he said +to himself, and he would get up, and out of the hideous place, but +he must lie a little longer first, just to come to himself!--Now he +would try!--What had become of his strength? Was it gone utterly? +Could one night's illness have reduced him thus? + +He seemed to himself unable to think, yet the profoundest thought +went on as if thinking itself in him. Where had his strength lain +before he lost it? Could that ever have been HIS which he could not +keep? If a thing were ours, nothing could ever take it from us! Was +his strength ever his then? Yes, for God had given it him. Then he +could not have lost it! He had it still! The branches of it were +gone, but the root remained, hid in God. All was well. If God chose +that his child should lie there, for this day, and to-morrow, or +till the next year, or if it pleased him that he should never rise +again with the same body, was that a thing to trouble him? He +turned his back on the ugly room, and was presently fast asleep +again. + +Not a few read the poems of a certain king brought up a shepherd +lad. From Sunday to Sunday they read them. Amongst them, in their +turn, they read these: "I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, +for thou, Lord, only makest me to dwell in safety." Yet not only do +these readers never have such a feeling in their own hearts in +consequence, but they never even imagine that David really had it +in his. Deeper and grander things still, uttered by this same +shepherd-warrior, do they read, and yet in their wisdom will +declare it preposterous that any Scotch lad should have such a +feeling towards God as I have represented! "Doth God care for +oxen?" says St. Paul. Doth God care for kings? I ask, or for +Jew-shepherds? Or does he not care all over for all of us--oxen and +kings and sparrows and Scotch lairds? According to such blind +seers, less is to be expected of humanity since the son of David +came, than it was capable of in his father David. Such men build +stone houses, but never a spiritual nest. They cannot believe the +thing possible which yet another man DOES. Nor ever may they +believe it before they begin to do it. I wonder little at so many +rejecting Christianity, while so many would-be champions of it hold +theirs at arm's length--in their bibles, in their theories, in +their church, in their clergyman, in their prayer-books, in the +last devotional page they have read--a separable thing--not in +their hearts on their beds in the stillness; not their comfort in +the night-watches; not the strength of their days, the hope and joy +of their conscious being! God is nearer to me than the air I +breathe, nearer to me than the heart of wife or child, nearer to me +than my own consciousness of myself, nearer to me than the words in +which I speak to him, nearer than the thought roused in me by the +story of his perfect son--or he is no God at all. The unbelievers +might well rejoice in the loss of such a God as many Chris--tians +would make of him. But if he be indeed the Father of our Lord +Christ, of that Jew who lived and died doing the will of his +Father, and nothing but that will, then, to all eternity, "Amen, +thy will be done, O God! and nothing but thy will, in or through +me!" + +Cosmo had been ill a whole week--in fever and pain, and was now +helpless almost as an infant. The old man had gone for his wife, +and between them they had persuaded him, though all but +unconscious, to exert himself sufficiently to reach the house. This +effort he could recall, in the shape of an intermina--ble season +during which he supported the world for Atlas, that he might get a +little sleep; but it was only the aching weight of his own +microcosm that he urged Atlanlean force to carry. They took him +direct to the room where he now lay, for they had them--selves but +one chamber, and if they took him there, what would become of the +old bones to which the gardener was so fond of referring in his +colloquies with himself? Also, it might be some fever he had taken, +and their own lives were so much the more precious that so much of +them was gone! Like most of us, they were ready to do THEIR NEXT +BEST for him. They spared some of their own poor comforts to +furnish the skeleton bed for him; and there he lay, like one adrift +in a rotten boat on the ebbing ocean of life, while the old woman +trudged away to the village to tell the doctor that there was a +young Scotch gardener taken suddenly ill at their quarters in the +castle. + +The doctor sent his son, a man about thirty, who after travelling +some years as medical attendant to a nobleman, had settled in his +native village as his father's partner. He prescribed for Cosmo, +and gave hope that there was nothing infectious about the case. +Every day during the week he had come to see him, and the night +before had been with him from dark to dawn. + +The gardener's wife had informed Lady Joan that a young Scotchman +who had come to her husband seeking employment, had been taken +suddenly ill, and was lying in a room in the old wing; and Lady +Joan had said she would speak to the housekeeper to let her have +whatever she wanted for him. The doctor saw Lady Joan most every +time he came to see Cosmo, and she would enquire how his patient +was going on; she would also hear the housekeeper's complaints of +the difficulty she had in getting wine from the butler--of which +there was no lack, only he grudged it, for he was doing his best to +drink up the stock the old lord had left behind him, intending to +take his departure with the last bottle--but she took no farther +interest in the affair. The castle was like a small deserted +village, and there was no necessity for a person in one part of it +knowing what was taking place in another. + +But that same morning she had a letter from the laird, saying he +was uneasy about his boy. He had been so inconsiderate, he informed +her, as to set out to visit her without asking her leave, or even +warning her of his intent; and since the letter announcing his +immediate departure, received a fortnight before, he had not heard +of or from him. This set Joan thinking. And the immediate result +was, that she went to the gardener's wife, and questioned her +concerning the appearance of her patient. In the old woman's +answers she certainly could recognize no likeness to Cosmo; but he +must have altered much in seven years, and she could not be +satisfied without seeing the young man. + +Cosmo lay fast asleep, and dreaming--but pleasant dreams now, for +the fever gone, life was free to build its own castles. He thought +he was dead, and floating through the air at his will, volition all +that was necessary to propel him like a dragon-fly, in any +direction he desired to take. He was about to go to his father, to +receive his congratulations on his death, and to say to him that +now the sooner he too died the better, that the creditors might +have the property, everybody be paid, and they two and his mother +be together for always. But first, before he set out, he must have +one sight of Lady Joan, and in that hope was now hovering about the +towers of the castle. He was slowly circling the two great ones of +the gateway, crossing a figure of eight over the gallery where +stood the machinery of the portcullis, when down he dropped, and +lay bruised and heavy, unable by fiercest effort of the will to +move an inch from the spot. He was making the reflection how +foolish it was to begin to fly before assuring himself that he was +dead, and was resolving to be quite prudent another time, when he +felt as if a warm sunny cloud came over him, which made him open +his eyes. They gradually cleared, and above him he saw the face of +his many dreams--a little sadder than it was in them, but more +beautiful. + +Cosmo had so much of the childlike in him that illness made him +almost a very child again, and when he saw Joan's face bending over +him like a living sky, just as any child might have done, he put +his arms round her neck, and drew her face down to his. Hearts get +uppermost in illness, and people then behave as they would not in +health. More is in it than is easily found. There is such a dumb +prayer in the spirit to be _taken_! + +Till he opened his eyes Lady Joan had been unable to satisfy +herself whether the pale, worn, yet grand-looking youth could +indeed be the lad Cosmo, and was not at all prepared for such +precipitate familiarity: the moment she was released, she drew back +with some feeling, if not of offence, yet of annoyance. But such a +smile flooded Cosmo's face, mingled with such a pleading look of +apology and excuse, which seemed to say, "How _could_ I help +it?" that she was ashamed of herself. It was the same true face as +the boy's, with its old look of devotion and gentle worship! To +make all right she stooped of her own accord, and kissed his +forehead. + +"Thank you," murmured Cosmo, his own voice sounding to him like +that of another. "Don't be vexed with me. I am but a baby, and have +no mother. When I saw you, it was as if heaven had come down into +hell, and I did not think to help it. How beautiful you are! How +good of you to come to me!" + +"Oh, Cosmo!" cried Lady Joan--and now large silent tears were +running down her cheeks--"to think of the way you and your father +took me and mine in, and here you have been lying ill--I don't know +how long--in a place not fit for a beggar!" + +"That's just what I am!" returned Cosmo with a smile, feeling +already almost well. "I have such a long story to tell you, Joan! I +remember all about it now." + +"Why didn't you write,--?" said Joan, and checked herself, for +alas! if he had written, what would she not have found herself +compelled to do!--"Why didn't you send for me at once? They told me +there was a young gardener lying ill, and of course I never dreamed +it could be you. But I know if you had heard at Castle Warlock that +a stranger was lying ill somewhere about the place, you would have +gone to him at once! It was very wrong of me, and I am sorely +punished!" + +"Never mind," said Cosmo; "it's all right now. I have you, and it +makes me well again all at once. When I see you standing there, +looking just as you used, all the time between is shrivelled up to +nothing, and the present joins right on to the past. But you look +sad, Joan!--I MAY call you Joan still, mayn't I?" + +"Surely, Cosmo. What else? I haven't too many to call me Joan!" + +"But what makes you look sad?" + +"Isn't it enough to think how I have treated you?" + +"You didn't know it was me," said Cosmo. + +"That is true. But if, as your father taught you, I had done it to +HIM--" + +"Well, there's one thing, Joan--you'll do differently another +time." + +"I can't be sure of that, for my very heart grows stupid, living +here all alone." + +"Anyhow, you will have trouble enough with me for awhile, fast as +your eyes can heal me," said Cosmo, who began to be aware of a +reaction. + +Lady Joan's face flushed with pleasure, but the next moment grew +pale again at the thought of how little she could do for him. + +"The first thing," she said, "is to write to your father. When he +knows I have got you, he won't be uneasy. I will go and do it at +once." + +Almost the moment she left him, Cosmo fell fast asleep again. + +But now was Lady Joan, if not in perplexity, yet in no small +discomfort. It made her miserable to think of Cosmo in such a +place, yet she could not help saying to herself it was well he had +not written, for she must then have asked him not to come: now that +he was in the house, she dared not tell her brother; and were she +to move him to any comfortable room in the castle, he would be sure +to hear of it from the butler, for the less faith carried, the more +favour curried! One thing only was in her power: she could make the +room he was in comparatively comfortable. As soon, therefore, as +she had written a hurried letter to the laird, she went hastily +through some of the rooms nearest the part in which Cosmo lay, +making choice of this and of that for her purpose: in the great, +all but uninhabited place there were naturally many available +pieces of stuff and of furniture. These she then proceeded, with +her own hands, and the assistance of the gardener and his wife, to +carry to his room; and when she found he was asleep, she put forth +every energy to get the aspect of the place altered before he +should wake. With noiseless steps she entered and left the room +fifty times; and by making use of a door which had not been opened +for perhaps a hundred years, she avoided attracting the least +attention. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +A TRANSFORMATION. + + +When Cosmo the second time opened his eyes, he was afresh +bewildered. Which was the dream--that vision of wretchedness, or +this of luxury? If it was not a dream, how had they moved him +without once disturbing his sleep? It was as marvellous as anything +in the Arabian Nights! Could it be the same chamber? Not a thing +seemed the same, yet in him was a doubtful denial of transportance. +Yes, the ceiling was the same! The power of the good fairy had not +reached to the transformation of that! But the walls! Instead of +the great hole in the plaster close by the bed, his eyes fell on a +piece of rich old tapestry! Curtains of silk damask, all bespotted +with quaintest flowers, each like a page of Chaucer's poetry, hung +round his bed, quite other than fit sails for the Stygian boat. +They had made the bed as different as the vine in summer from the +vine in winter. A quilt of red satin lay in the place of the +patchwork coverlid. Everything had been changed. He thought the +mattress felt soft under him--but that was only a fancy, for he saw +before the fire the feather-bed intended to lie between him and it. +He felt like a tended child, in absolute peace and bliss--or like +one just dead, while yet weary with the struggle to break free. He +seemed to recall the content, of which some few vaguest filaments, +a glance and no more, still float in the summer-air of many a +memory, wherein the child lies, but just awaked to consciousness +and the mere bliss of being, before wrong has begun to cloud its +pure atmosphere. For Cosmo had nothing on his conscience to trouble +it; his mind was stored with lovely images and was fruitful in +fancies, because in temperament, faith, and use, he was a poet; the +evil vapours of fever had just lifted from his brain, and were +floating away, in the light of the sun of life; he felt the +pressure of no duty--was like a bird of the air lying under its +mother's wing, and dreaming of flight; his childhood's most +cherished dream had grown fact: there was the sylph, the oriad, the +naiad of all his dreams, a living lady before his eyes--nor the +less a creature of his imagination's heart; from her, as the centre +of power, had all the marvellous transformation proceeded; and the +lovely strength had kissed him on the forehead! The soul of Cosmo +floated in rapturous quiet, like the evening star in a rosy cloud. + +But I return to the earthly shore that bordered this heavenly sea. +The old-fashioned, out-swelling grate, loose and awry in its +setting, had a keen little fire burning in it, of which, summer as +it was, the mustiness of the atmosphere, and the damp of the walls, +more than merely admitted. The hole in the floor had vanished under +a richly faded Turkey carpet; and a luxurious sofa, in blue damask, +faded almost to yellow, stood before the fire, to receive him the +moment he should cease to be a chrysalis. And there in an easy +chair by the corner of the hearth, wonder of all loveliest wonders, +sat the fairy-godmother herself, as if she had but just waved her +wand, and everything had come to her will!--the fact being, +however, that the poor fairy was not a little tired in legs and +arms and feet and hands and head, and preferred contemplating what +she had already done, to doing anything more for the immediate +present. + +Cosmo lay watching her. He dared not move a hand, lest she should +move; for, though it might be to rise and come to him, would it not +be to change what he saw?--and what he saw was so much enough, that +he would see it forever, and desired nothing else. She turned her +eyes, and seeing the large orbs of the youth fixed upon her, smiled +as she had not smiled before, for a great weight was off her heart +now that the room gave him a little welcome. True, it was after all +but a hypocrite of a room,--a hypocrite, however, whose meaning was +better than its looks! + +He put out his hand, and she rose and came and laid hers in it. +Suddenly he let it go. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. "I don't know when my hands were +washed! The last I remember is digging in the garden. I wish I +might wash my face and hands!" + +"You mustn't think of it! you can't sit up yet," said Lady Joan. +"But never mind: some people are always clean. You should see my +brother's hands sometimes! I will, if you like, bring you a towel +with a wet corner. I dare say that will do you good." + +She poured water into a basin from a kettle on the hob, and dipping +the corner of a towel in it, brought it to him. He tried to use it, +but his hands obeyed him so ill that she took it from him, and +herself wiped with it his face and hands, and then dried them--so +gently, so softly, he thought that must be how his mother did with +him when he was a baby. All the time, he lay looking up at her with +a grateful smile. She then set about preparing him some tea and +toast, during which he watched her every motion. When he had had +the tea, he fell asleep, and when he woke next he was alone. + +An hour or so later, the gardener's wife brought him a basin of +soup, and when he had taken it, told him she would then leave him +for the night: if he wanted anything, as there was no bell, he must +pull the string she tied to the bed-post. He was very weary, but so +comfortable, and so happy, his brain so full of bright yet +soft-coloured things, that he felt as if he would not mind being +left ages alone. He was but two and twenty, with a pure conscience, +and an endless hope--so might he not well lie quiet in his bed? + +By the middle of the night, however, the tide of returning health +showed a check; there came a strong reaction, with delirium; his +pulse was high, and terrible fancies tormented him, through which +passed continually with persistent recurrence the figure of the old +captain, always swinging a stick about his head, and crooning to +himself the foolish rime, + +"Catch yer naig an' pu' his tail; In his hin' heel caw a nail; Rug +his lugs frae ane' anither; Stan' up, an' ca' the king yer +brither." + +At last, at the moment when once more his persecutor was commencing +his childish ditty, he felt as if, from the top of a mountain a +hundred miles away, a cold cloud came journeying through the sky, +and descended upon him. He opened his eyes: there was Joan, and the +cold cloud was her soft cool hand on his forehead. The next thing +he knew was that she was feeding him like a child. But he did not +know that she never left him again till the morning, when, seeing +him gently asleep, she stole away like a ghost in the gray dawn. + +The next day he was better, but for several nights the fever +returned, and always in his dreams he was haunted by variations on +the theme of the auld captain; and for several days he felt as if +he did not want to get better, but would lie forever a dreamer in +the enchanted palace of the glamoured ruin. But that was only his +weakness, and gradually he gained strength. + +Every morning and every afternoon Lady Joan visited him, waited on +him, and staid a longer or shorter time, now talking, now reading +to him; and seldom would she be a whole evening absent--then only +on the rare occasion when Lord Mergwain, having some one to dine +with him of the more ordinary social stamp, desired her presence as +lady of the house. Even then she would almost always have a peep at +him one time or another. She did not know much about books, but +would take up this or that, almost as it chanced to her hand in the +library; and Cosmo cared little what she read, so long as he could +hear her voice, which often beguiled him into the sweetest sleep +with visions of home and his father. If the story she read was +foolish, it mattered nothing; he would mingle with it his own +fancies, and weave the whole into the loveliest of foolish dreams, +all made up of unaccountably reasonable incongruities: the sensible +look in dreams of what to the waking mind is utterly incoherent, is +the most puzzling of things to him who would understand his own +unreason. And the wild MR CHENHAFT lovelinesses that fashioned +themselves thus in his brain, outwardly lawless, but inwardly so +harmonious as to be altogether credible to the dreamer, were not +lost in the fluttering limbo of foolish invention, but, in altered +shape and less outlandish garments, appeared again, when, in after +years, he sought vent for the all but unspeakable. During this time +he would often talk verse in his sleep, such as to Lady Joan, at +least, sometimes seemed lovely, though she never could get a hold +of it, she said; for always, just as she seemed on the point of +understanding it, he would cease, and her ears would ache with the +silence. + +One warm evening, when now a good deal better, and able to sit up a +part of the day, Cosmo was lying on the sofa, watching her face as +she read. Through the age-dusted window came the glowing beams of +the setting sun, lined and dulled and blotted. They fell on her +hands, and her hands reflected them, in a pale rosy gleam, upon her +face. + +"How beautiful you are in the red light, Joan!" said Cosmo. + +"That's the light, not me," she returned. + +"Yes, it IS you. The red light shows you more as you are. In the +dark even YOU do not look beautiful. Then you may say if you like, +'That is the dark, not me.' Don't you remember what Portia says in +The Merchant of Venice," + +'The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark + When neither is attended; and I think + The nightingale, if she should sing by day + When every goose is cackling, would be thought + No better a musician than the wren. + How many things by reason reasoned are + To their right praise and true perfection!' + +"You see he says, not that beautiful things owe their beauty, but +the right seeing of their beauty, to circumstance. So the red light +makes me SEE you more beautiful--not than you are--that could not +be--but than I could see you in another light--a gray one for +instance." + +"You mustn't flatter me, Cosmo. You don't know what harm you may do +me." + +"I love you too much to flatter you," he said. + +She raised the book, and began to read again. + +Cosmo had gone on as he began--had never narrowed the channels that +lay wide and free betwixt his soul and his father and Mr. Simon; +Lady Joan had no such aqueducts to her ground, and many a bitter +wind blew across its wastes; it ought not therefore to be matter of +surprise that, although a little younger, Cosmo should be a good +way ahead of Joan both in knowledge and understanding. Hence the +conversations they now had were to Joan like water to a thirsty +soul--the hope of the secret of life, where death had seemed +waiting at the door. She would listen to the youth, rendered the +more enthusiastic by his weakness, as to a messenger from the land +of truth. In the old time she had thought Cosmo a wonderful boy, +saying the strangest things like common things everybody knew: now +he said more wonderful things still, she thought, but as if he knew +they were strange, and did his best to make it easier to receive +them. She wondered whether, if he had been a woman with a history +like hers, he would have been able to keep that bright soul shining +through all the dreariness, to see through the dusty windows the +unchanged beauty of things, and save alive his glorious hope. She +began to see that she had not begun at the beginning with anything, +had let things draw her this way and that, nor put forth any effort +to master circumstance by accepting its duty. + +On Cosmo's side, the passion of the believer in the unseen had laid +hold upon him; and as the gardener awaits the blossoming of some +strange plant, of whose loveliness marvellous tales have reached +his ears, so did he wait for something entrancing to issue from the +sweet twilight sadnesses of her being, the gleams that died into +dusk, the deep voiceless ponderings into which she would fall. + +They talked now about any book they were reading, but it mattered +little more what it was, for even a stupid book served as well as +another to set their own fountains flowing. That afternoon Joan was +reading from one partly written, partly compiled, in the beginning +of the century, somewhat before its time in England. It might have +been the work of an imitator at once of de la Motte Fouque, and the +old British romancers. And this was what she read. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +THE STORY OF THE KNIGHT WHO SPOKE THE TRUTH. + + +There was once a country in which dwelt a knight whom no lady of +the land would love, and that because he spake the truth. For the +other knights, all in that land, would say to the ladies they +loved, that of all ladies in the world they were the most +beautiful, and the most gracious, yea in all things the very first; +and thereby the ladies of that land were taught to love their own +praise best, and after that the knight who was the best praiser of +each, and most enabled her to think well of herself in spite of +doubt. And the knight who would not speak save truly, they +mockingly named Sir Verity, which name some of them did again +miscall SEVERITY,--for the more he loved, the more it was to him +impossible to tell a lie. + +And thus it came about that one after another he was hated of them +all. For so it was, that, greedy of his commendation, this lady and +that would draw him on to speak of that wherein she made it her +pleasure to take to herself excellences; but nowise so could any +one of them all gain from him other than a true judgment. As thus: +one day said unto him a lady, "Which of us, think you, Sir Verity, +hath the darkest eyes of all the ladies here at the court of our +lord the king?" And he thereto made answer, "Verily, methinketh the +queen." Then said she unto him, + +"Who then hath the bluest eyes of all the ladies at the court of +our lord the king?"--for that her own were of the colour of the +heavens when the year is young. And he answered, "I think truly the +Lady Coryphane hath the bluest of all their blue eyes." + +Then said she, "And I think truly by thine answer, Severity, that +thou lovest me not, for else wouldst thou have known that mine eyes +are as blue as Coryphane's." + +"Nay truly," he answered; "for my heart knoweth well that thine +eyes are blue, and that they are lovely, and to me the dearest of +all eyes, but to say they are the bluest of all eyes, that I may +not, for therein should I be no true man." Therewith was the lady +somewhat shamed, and seeking to cover her vanity, did answer and +say, "It may well be, sir knight, for how can I tell who see not +mine own eyes, and would therefore know of thee, of whom men say, +some that thou speakest truly, other some that thou speakest +naughtily. But be the truth as it may, every knight yet saith to +his own mistress that in all things she is the paragon of the +world." + +"Then," quoth the knight, "she that knoweth that every man saith +so, must know also that only one of them all saith the thing that +is true. Not willingly would I add to the multitude of the lies +that do go about the world!" + +"Now verily am I sure that thou dost not love me," cried the lady; +"for all men do say of mine eyes--" Thereat she stayed words, and +said no more, that he might speak again. "Lady," said Sir Verity, +and spake right solemnly, "as I said before I do say again, and in +truth, that thine eyes are to me the dearest of all eyes. But they +might be the bluest or the blackest, the greenest or the grayest, +yet would I love them all the same. For for none of those colours +would they be dear to me, but for the cause that they were thine +eyes. For I love thine eyes because they are thine, not thee +because thine eyes are or this or that." Then that lady brake forth +into bitter weeping, and would not be comforted, neither thereafter +would hold converse with the knight. For in that country it was the +pride of a lady's life to lie lapt in praises, and breathe the air +of the flatteries blown into her ears by them who would be counted +her lovers. Then said the knight to himself, "Verily, and yet +again, her eyes are not the bluest in the world! It seemeth to me +as that the ladies in this land should never love man aright, +seeing, alas! they love the truth from no man's lips; for save they +may each think herself better than all the rest, then is not life +dear unto them. I will forsake this land, and go where the truth +may be spoken nor the speaker thereof hated." He put on his armour, +with never lady nor squire nor page to draw thong or buckle spur, +and mounted his horse and rode forth to leave the land. And it came +to pass, that on his way he entered a great wood. And as he went +through the wood, he heard a sobbing and a crying in the wood. And +he said to himself, "Verily, here is some one wronged and lamenteth +greatly! I will go and help." + +So about he rode searchingly, until he came to the place whither he +was led. And there, at the foot of a great oak, he found an old +woman in a gray cloak, with her face in her hands, and weeping +right on, neither ceased she for the space of a sigh. "What aileth +thee, good mother?" he said. + +"I am not good, and I am not thy mother," she answered, and began +again to weep. + +"Ah!" thought the knight, "here is one woman that loveth the truth, +for she speaks the truth, and would not that aught but the truth be +spoken!"-- + +"Howcan I help thee, woman," he said then, "although in truth thou +art not my mother, and I may not call thee good?" + +"By taking thyself from me," she answered. + +"Then will I ride on my way," said the knight, and turning, rode on +his way. Then rose the woman to her feet, and followed him. + +"Wherefore followest thou me," said the knight, "if I may do +nothing to serve thee?" + +"I follow thee," she answered him, "because thou speakest the +truth, and because thou art not true." + +"If thou speakest the truth, in a mystery speakest thou it," said +he. + +"Wherefore then ridest thou about the world?" she asked. + +And he replied, "Verily, to succour them that are oppressed, for I +have no mistress to whom I may do honour." + +"Nay, sir knight," said she, "but to get thee a name and great +glory, thou ridest about the world. Verily thou art a man who +loveth not the truth." + +At these words of the woman the knight clapped spurs to his horse, +and would have ridden from her, for he loved not to be reviled, and +so he told her. But she followed him, and kept by his stirrup, and +said to him as she ran, "Yea, thine own heart whispereth unto thee +that I speak but the truth. It is from thyself thou wouldst flee." + +Then did the knight listen, and, lo! his own heart was telling him +that what the woman said was indeed so. Then drew he the reins of +his bridle, and looked down upon the woman and said to her, "Verily +thou hast well spoken, but if I be not true, yet would I be true. +Come with me. I will take thee upon my horse behind me, and +together we will ride through the world; thou shalt speak to me the +truth, and I will hear thee, and with my sword will plead what +cause thou hast against any; so shall it go well with thee and me, +for fain would I not only love what is truly spoken, but be in +myself the true thing." Then reached he down his hand, and she put +her hand in his hand, and her foot upon his foot, and so sprang +lightly up behind him, and they rode on together. And as they rode, +he said unto her, "Verily thou art the first woman I have found who +hath to me spoken the truth, as I to others. Only thy truth is +better than mine. Truly thou must love the truth better than I!" +But she returned him no answer. Then said he to her again, "Dost +thou not love the truth?" And again she gave him no answer, whereat +he marvelled greatly. Then said he unto her yet again, "Surely it +may not be thou art one of those who speak the truth out of envy +and ill-will, and on their own part love not to hear it spoken, but +are as the rest of the children of vanity! Woman, lovest thou the +truth, nor only to speak it when it is sharp?" + +"If I love not the truth," she answered, "yet love I them that love +it. But tell me now, sir knight, what thinkest thou of me?" + +"Nay," answered the knight, "that is what even now I would fain +have known from thyself, namely what to think of thee." + +"Then will I now try thee," said she, "whether indeed thou speakest +the truth or no.--Tell me to my face, for I am a woman, what thou +thinkest of that face." + +Then said the knight to himself, "Never surely would I, for the +love of pity, of my own will say to a woman she was evil-favoured. +But if she will have it, then must she hear the truth." + +"Nay, nay!" said the woman, "but thou wilt not speak the truth." + +"Yea, but I will," answered he. + +"Then I ask thee again," she said, "what thinkest thou of me?" + +And the knight replied, "Truly I think not of thee as of one of the +well-favoured among women." + +"Dost thou then think," said she, and her voice was full of anger, +which yet it seemed as she would hide, "that I am not pleasant to +look upon? Verily no man hath yet said so unto me, though many have +turned away from me, because I spoke unto them the truth!" + +"Now surely thou sayest the thing that is not so!" said the knight, +for he was grieved to think she should speak the truth but of +contention, and not of love to the same, inasmuch as she also did +seek that men should praise her. + +"Truly I say that which is so," she answered. + +Then was the knight angered, and spake to her roughly, and said +unto her, "Therefore, woman, will I tell thee that which thou +demandest of me: Verily I think of thee as one, to my thinking, the +worst favoured, and least to be desired among women whom I have yet +looked upon; nor do I desire ever to look upon thee again." + +Then laughed she aloud, and said to him, "Nay, but did I not tell +thee thou didst not dare speak the thing to my face? for now thou +sayest it not to my face, but behind thine own back!" + +And in wrath the knight turned him in his saddle, crying, "I tell +thee, to thy ill-shaped and worse-hued countenance, that--" and +there ceased, and spake not, but with open mouth sat silent. For +behind him he saw a woman the glory of her kind, more beautiful +than man ever hoped to see out of heaven. + +"I told thee," she said, "thou couldst not say the thing to my +face!" + +"For that it would be the greatest lie ever in this world uttered," +answered the knight, "seeing that verily I do believe thee the +loveliest among women, God be praised! Nevertheless will I not go +with thee one step farther, so to peril my soul's health, except, +as thou thyself hast taught me to inquire, thou tell me thou lovest +the truth in all ways, in great ways as well as small." + +"This much will I tell thee," she answered, "that I love thee +because thou lovest the truth. If I say not more, it is that it +seemeth to me a mortal must be humble speaking of great things. +Verily the truth is mighty, and will subdue my heart unto itself." + +"And wilt thou help me to do the truth?" asked the knight. + +"So the great truth help me!" she answered. And they rode on +together, and parted not thereafter. Here endeth the story of the +knight that spoke the truth. + +Lady Joan ceased, and there was silence in the chamber, she looking +back over the pages, as if she had not quite understood, and Cosmo, +who had understood entirely, watching the lovely, dark, anxious +face. He saw she had not mastered the story, but, which was next +best, knew she had not. He began therefore to search her +difficulty, or rather to help it to take shape, and thereon +followed a conversation neither of them ever forgot concerning the +degrees of truth: as Cosmo designated them--the truth of fact, the +truth of vital relation, and the truth of action. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +NEW EXPERIENCE. + + +Soon Cosmo began to recover more rapidly--as well he might, he told +Joan, with such a heavenly servant to wait on him! The very next +day he was up almost the whole of it. But that very day was Joan +less with him than hitherto, and therefrom came not so often and +stayed a shorter time. She would bring him books and leave them, +saying he did not require a nurse any more now that he was able to +feed himself. And Cosmo, to his trouble, could not help thinking +sometimes that her manner towards him was also a little changed. +What could have come between them he asked himself twenty times a +day. Had he hurt her anyhow? Had he unconsciously put on the +schoolmaster with her? Had he presumed on her kindness? With such +questions he plagued himself, but found to them no answer. At times +he could even have imagined her a little cross with him, but that +never lasted. Yet still when they met, Joan seemed farther off than +when they parted the day before. It is true they almost always +seemed to get back to nearly the same place before they parted +again, and Cosmo tried to persuade himself that any change there +might be was only the result of growing familiarity; but not the +less did he find himself ever again mourning over something that +was gone--a delicate colour on the verge of the meeting sky and sea +of their two natures. + +But how differently the hours went when she was with him, and when +he lay thinking whether she was coming! His heart swelled like a +rose-bud ready to burst into a flaming flower when she drew near, +and folded itself together when she went, as if to save up all its +perfume and strength for her return! Everything he read that +pleased him, must be shared with Joan--must serve as an atmosphere +of thought in which to draw nigh to each other. Everything +beautiful he saw twice--with his own eyes namely, and as he +imagined it in the eyes of Joan: he was always trying to see things +as he thought she would see them. Not once while recovering did he +care to read a thing he thought she would not enjoy--though +everything he liked, he said to himself, she must enjoy some day. + +Soon he made a discovery concerning himself that troubled him +greatly: not once since he was ill had he buried himself in the +story of Jesus! not once had he lost himself in prayer! not once +since finding Joan had he been flooded with a glory as from the +presence of the living One, or had any such vision of truth as used +every now and then to fill him like the wine of the new world which +is the old! Lady Joan saw that he was sad, and questioned him. But +even to her he could not open his mind on such a matter: near as +they were, they had not yet got near enough to each other for that. + +In the history, which is the growth, of the individual man, epochs +of truth and moods of being follow in succession, the one for the +moment displacing the other, until the mind shall at length have +gained power to blend the new at once with the preceding whole. But +this can never be until our idea of the Absolute Life is large +enough and intense enough to fill and fit into every necessity of +our nature. A new mood is as a dry well for the water of life to +fill. The man who does not yet understand God as the very power of +his conscious as well as unconscious being, as more in him than +intensest consciousness of bliss or of pain, must have many a +treeless expanse, many a mirage-haunted desert, many an empty +cistern and dried up river, in the world of his being! There was +not much of this kind of waste in Cosmo's world, but God was not +yet inside his growing love to Joan--that is, consciously to +him--and his spirit was therefore of necessity troubled. Was it not +a dreadful thing, he thought with himself, and was right in so +thinking, that love to any lovely thing--how much more to the +loveliest being God had made!--whose will is the soul of all +loveliness, should cause him, in any degree, or for any time, to +forget him and grow strange to the thought of him? The lack was +this, that, having found his treasure, he had not yet taken it home +to his Father! Jesus, himself, after he was up again, could not be +altogether at home with his own, until he had first been home to +his Father and their Father, to his God and their God. For as God +is the source, so is he the bond of all love. There are Christians +who in portions of their being, of their life, their judgments, and +aims, are absolute heathens, for with these, so far as their +thought or will is concerned, God has nothing to do. There God is +not with them, for there they are not with God. Do they heed St. +Paul when he says, "Whatsoever is not of faith is sin"? + +So, between these two, an unrest had come in, and they were no more +sure of ease in each other's presence, although sometimes, for many +minutes together, thought and word would go well between them, and +all would be as simple and shining as ever. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +CHARLES JERMYN, M. D. + + +The only house in the neighbouring village where Lady Joan +sometimes visited, was, as the gardener had told Cosmo, that of the +doctor, with whose daughter she had for some years, if not +cultivated, yet admitted a sort of friendship. Their relation +however would certainly have been nothing such, so different were +the two, had it not been that Joan had no other acquaintance of her +own age, and that Miss Jermyn had reasons for laying herself out to +please her--the principal of which was that her brother, a man +about thirty, had a great admiration for Lady Joan, and to please +him his sister would do almost anything. Their father also favoured +his son's ambition, for he hated the earl, and would be glad of his +annoyance, while he liked Lady Joan, and was far from blind to the +consequence his family would gain by such an alliance. But he had +no great hope, for experience, of which few have more than a +country doctor, had taught him that, in every probability, his +son's first advance would be for Lady Joan the signal to retire +within the palisades of her rank; for there are who will show any +amount of familiarity and friendliness with agreeable inferiors up +to the moment when the least desire of a nearer approach manifests +itself: that moment the old Adam, or perhaps rather the old Satan, +is up in full pride like a spiritual turkey-cock, with swollen +neck, roused feathers, and hideous gabble. His experience however +did not bring to his mind in the company of this reflection the +fact that such a reception was precisely that which he had himself +given to a prayer for the hand of his daughter from one whom he +counted her social inferior. But the younger man, who also had had +his experiences, reflected that the utter isolation of Lady Joan, +through the ill odour of her family, the disgraceful character of +her father, the unamiability of her brother, and the poverty into +which they had sunk, gave him incalculable advantages. + +The father had been for many years the medical adviser of the +house; and although Lord Mergwain accorded the medical practice of +his day about the same relation to a science of therapeutics that +old alchemy had to modern chemistry, yet the moment he felt ill, he +was sure to send for young Jermyn. Charles had also attended Lady +Joan in several illnesses, for she had not continued in such health +as when she used to climb hills in snow with Cosmo. It is true she +had on these occasions sent for the father, but for one reason and +another, more likely to be false than true, he had always, with +many apologies, sent his son in his stead. She was at first +annoyed, and all but refused to receive him; but from dislike of +seeming to care, she got used to his attendance, and to him as +well. He gained thus the opportunity of tolerably free admission to +her, of which he made use with what additional confidence came of +believing that at least he had no rival. + +Nor indeed was there anything absurd in his aspiring in those her +circumstances to win her. He was a man of good breeding, and more +than agreeable manners--with a large topographical experience, and +a social experience far from restricted, for, as I have already +mentioned, he had travelled much, and in the company of persons of +high position; and had Joan been less ignorant of things belonging +to her proper station, she would have found yet more to interest +her in him. But being a man of some insight, and possessed also of +considerable versatility, so that, readily discovering any +perculiarity, he was equally ready to meet it, he laid himself out +to talk to her of the things, and in the ways, which he thought she +would like. To discover, however, is not to understand. No longer +young enough, as he said to himself, to be greatly interested in +anything but GETTING ON, he could yet, among the contents of the +old property-room in his brain, easily lay his hands on many things +to help him in the part he chose as the fittest to represent +himself. The greater part of conventionally honest men try to look +the thing they would like to be--that being at the same time the +way they would like others to see them; others, along with what +they would like to be, act that which they would only like to +appear; the downright rascal cares only to look what will serve his +purpose; and the honest man thinks only of being, and of being to +his fellows. + +But even had Jermyn only taken upon him to imagine himself in love +with a woman like Lady Joan, he must soon have become, more or +less, actually in love with her. This did not however destroy his +caution; and so far as his attentions had gone, they were pleasant +to her;--they were at least a break in the ennui of her daily life, +helping her to reach the night in safety. She was not one of those +who, unable to make alive the time, must kill it lest it kill them; +but neither was she of those who make their time so living, that +the day is too short for them. Hence it came when he called, that +by and by she would offer him tea, and when he went, would walk +with him into the garden, and at length even accompany him as far +as the lodge on his way home. + +Charles Jermyn was a tall, well-made man, with a clever and refined +face, which, if not much feeling, expressed great intelligence. By +the ladies of the neighbourhood he was much admired, by some of +them pronounced very manly and good-looking, by others declared to +be BEAUTIFUL. Certain of them said he was much too handsome for a +doctor. He had a jolly air with him, which was yet far from +unrefined, and a hearty way of shaking hands which gave an +impression of honesty; and indeed I think honesty would have been +comparatively easy to him, had he set himself to cultivate it; but +he had never given himself trouble about anything except "getting +on." You might rely on his word if he gave it solemnly, but not +otherwise. Absolute truth he would have felt a hindrance in the +exercise of his profession, neither out of it did he make his yea +yea, and his nay nay. His oath was better than his word, and that +is a human shame. + +Women, even more than men, I presume, see in any one who interests +them, not so much what is there, as a reflection of what they +construct from the hints that have pleased them. Some of them it +takes a miserable married lifetime to undeceive; for some, not even +that will serve; they continue to see, if not an angel, yet a very +pardonable mortal, therefore altogether loveable man, in the +husband in whom everybody else sees only a vile rascal. Whether +sometimes the wife or the world be nearer the truth, will one day +come out: the wife MAY be a woman of insight, and see where no one +else can. + +In his youth the doctor had read a good deal of poetry, and enjoyed +it in a surface-sort of fashion: discovering that Lady Joan had a +fine taste in verse, he made use of his acquaintance there; and +effected the greater impression, that one without experience is +always ready to take familiarity as indicative of real knowledge, +and think that he, for instance, who can quote largely, must have +vital relation with the things he quotes. But it had never entered +the doctor's head that poetry could have anything to do with +life--even in the case of the poet himself--how much less in that +of his admirer! Never once had it occurred to him to ask how he +could be such a fool as enjoy anything false--beingless save in the +brain of the poet--a mere lie! For that which has nothing to do +with life, what can it be but a lie? Not the less Jermyn got down +book after book, for many a day undusted on his shelves, and read +and re-read many a passage which had once borne him into the +seventh heaven of feeling, suggesting somewhere a better world, in +which lovely things might be had WITHOUT TOO MUCH TROUBLE: now as +he read, he was struck with a mild surprise at finding how much had +lost even the appearance of the admirable; how much of what had +seemed bitter, he could thoroughly accept. He did not ask whether +the change came of a truer vision or a sourer judgment, put all +down to the experience that makes a man wise, none to a loss +within. He was not able to imagine himself in anything less than he +had been, in anything less than he would be. Yet poetry was to him +now the mere munition of war! mere feathers for the darts of Cupid! +--that was how the once poetic man to himself expressed himself! He +was laying in store of weapons, he said! For when a man will use +things in which he does not believe, he cannot fail to be vulgar. +But Lady Joan saw no vulgarity in the result--it was hid in the man +himself. To her he seemed a profound lover of poetry, who knew much +of which she had never even heard. Once he contrived to spend a +whole afternoon with her in the library, for of the outsides of +books, their title-pages, that is, he had a good deal of knowledge, +and must make opportunity to show it. One of his patients, with +whom he first travelled, then for a time resided, was a +book-collector, and with him he learned much, chiefly from +old-book-catalogues. With Lady Joan this learning, judiciously +poured out, passed for a marvellous knowledge of books, and the +country doctor began to assume in her eyes the proportions of a man +of universal culture. He knew at least how to bring all he had into +use, and succeeded in becoming something in the sweet lonely life, +so ignorant and unsupported. He could play the violin too, and that +with no mean expression--believing only in the expression, nowise +in the feeling expressed: this accomplishment also he contrived she +should, as if by accident, become acquainted with. + +In the judgment of most who knew him, he was an excellent and +indeed admirable man. "No nonsense about him, don't you know?--able +to make himself agreeable, but not losing sight of the main chance +either!" men would say; and "A thorough family-doctor, knowing how +to humour patients out of their fancies!" would certain mammas add, +who, instead of being straight-forward with their children, were +always scheming, and dodging, and holding private confabulations +about them with doctor and clergyman. + +In that part of his professional duty which bordered on that of the +nurse, the best that was in Jermyn came out. Few men could handle a +patient at the same time so firmly and tenderly as he; few were +less sparing of self in the endeavour to make him comfortable. And +from the moment when the simple-minded Cosmo became aware of his +attendance and ministration, his heart went out to him--from the +moment, that is, when, in the afternoon of the same day on which +Joan transformed his chamber, he lifted him in his arms that the +gardener and his wife might place a feather-bed and mattress under +him, obliterating in softness the something which had seemed to +find out every bone in his body: as soon as he was laid down again, +his spirit seemed to rise on clouds of ease to thank his minister. +And Cosmo was one in whom the gratitude was as enduring as ready. +Next to the appearance of Lady Joan, all the time he was +recovering, he looked for the daily visit of the doctor. Nor did +the doctor ever come without receiving his reward in an interview +with the lady. And herein Jermyn gained another advantage. For Joan +found herself compelled to take him into her confidence concerning +her brother's ignorance of the presence of Cosmo in the house; and +so he shared a secret with her. He did not, of course, altogether +relish the idea of this Scotch cousin, but plainly he was too young +for Joan, and he would soon find out whether there was any need to +beware of him, by which time he would know also what to do with +him, should action be necessary. + +For the first week or so Joan did not mind how often the doctor +found her with Cosmo, but after that she began to dislike it, she +could scarcely have told why, and managed to be elsewhere when he +came. After the third time the doctor began to cherish suspicion, +and called cunning to his aid. Having mentioned an hour at which he +would call the next day, he made his appearance an hour earlier, +and with an excuse on his lips for the change he had been +"compelled to make," walked into the room without warning, as of +course he might without offence, where his patient was a young man. +There, as he had feared, he found Lady Joan. But she had heard or +felt his coming, and as he entered she was handing Cosmo the +newspaper, with the words, + +"There! you are quite able to read to yourself to-day. I will go and +have another search for the book you wanted;" and with that she +turned, and gave a little start, for there stood the doctor! + +"Oh, Doctor Jermyn!" she exclaimed, "I did not know you were +there!" and held out her hand. "Our patient is going on wonderfully +now. You will let me see you before you leave the castle?" + +Therewith she left the room, and hastening to her own, saw in the +mirror the red of a lie, said to herself, "What will Cosmo think?" +and burst into tears--the first she had shed since the day she +found him. + +The doctor was not taken in, but Cosmo was troubled and puzzled. In +Jermyn's talk, however, and his own simplicity, he soon forgot the +strangeness of this her behaviour. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +COSMO AND THE DOCTOR. + + +To the eyes of Jermyn, Cosmo appeared, mainly from his simplicity, +younger than he was, while the doctor's manners, and his knowledge +of the world, made Cosmo regard him as a much greater man than, in +any sense or direction, he really was. His kindness having gained +the youth's heart, he was ready to see in him everything that love +would see in the loved. + +"You are very good to me, Doctor Jermyn," he said, one day,"--so +good, that I am the more sorry though the less unwilling--"--The +doctor could not keep his hold of the thread of Cosmo's speach, yet +did not interrupt him--"to tell you what is now weighing on my +mind: I do not know how or when I shall be able to hand you your +fees. I hope you will not come to see me once more than is +necessary; and the first money I earn, you shall be paid part at +least of what I owe you." + +The doctor laughed. It was such a school-boy speech, he thought! It +was a genuine relief to Cosmo to find him take the thing so +lightly. + +"You were robbed on the way, Lady Joan tells me," Jermyn said. + +"I am not sure that I was robbed," returned Cosmo; "but in any +case, even had I brought every penny I started with, I could not +have paid you. My father and I are very poor, Mr. Jermyn." + +"And my father and I are pretty well to do," said the doctor, +laughing again. + +"But," resumed Cosmo, "neither condition is a reason why you should +not be paid. Mine is only the cause why you are not paid at once." + +"My dear fellow," said the doctor, laying his hand on the boy's, "I +am not such a very old man--it is not so very long since I was a +student myself--in your country too--at Edinburgh--that I should +forget what it is to be a student, or how often money is scarce in +the midst of every other kind of plenty and refinement." + +"But I am not exactly a student now. I have been making a little +money as tutor; only--" + +"Don't trouble your head about it, I beg of you," interrupted the +doctor. "It is the merest trifle. Besides, I should never have +thought of taking a fee from you! I am well paid in the pleasure of +making your acquaintance.--But there is one way," he added, "in +which you could make me a return." + +"What is that?" asked Cosmo eagerly. + +"To borrow a little money of me for a few months? I am not at all +hard up at present. I had to borrow many a time when I was in +Edinburgh." + +The boy-heart of Cosmo swelled in his bosom, and for a time he +could not answer. He thought with himself, "Here is a man of the +true sort!--a man after my father's own heart! who in the ground of +his rights plants fresh favours, and knows the inside of a fellow's +soul as well as his body! This is a rare man!" + +But he felt it would be to do Joan a wrong to borrow money from the +doctor and not from her. So with every possible acknowledgment he +declined the generous offer. Now the doctor was quite simple in +behaving thus to Cosmo. He was a friendly man and a gentleman, and +liked Cosmo as no respectable soul could help liking him. It had +not yet entered into him to make him useful. That same night, +however, he began to ask himself whether he might not make Cosmo +serve instead of hindering his hope, and very soon had thought the +matter out. He was by no means too delicate to talk at once about +his love, but would say nothing of it until he had made more sure +of Cosmo, and good his ground by sowing another crop first: he must +make himself something in the eyes of the youth, plant himself +firmly in his estimation, cause his idea of him to blossom; and +for the sake of this he must first of all understand the boy! + +Nor was it long before the doctor imagined he did understand the +boy; and indeed, sceptical as both his knowledge of himself and of +the world had made him, he did so far understand him as to believe +him as innocent of evil as the day he was born. His eyes could not +shine so, his mouth could not have that childlike--the doctor +called it childish--smile otherwise. He put out various feelers to +satisfy himself there was no pretence, and found his allusions +either passed over him like a breath of merest air, or actually +puzzled him. It was not always that Cosmo did not know what the +suggestion MIGHT mean, but that he could not believe Jermyn meant +that; and perceiving this, the doctor would make haste to alter the +shadow into something definitely unobjectionable. Jermyn had no +design of corrupting the youth; he was above that, even could he +have fancied anything to be gained by it, whereas his interest lay +in the opposite direction, his object being to use the lad +unconsciously to himself. He discovered also concerning him that he +had lofty ideas of duty in everything; that he was very trusting, +and unready to doubt; and that with him poetry was not, as with +Lady Joan, a delight, but an absolute passion. After such +discoveries, he judged it would not be hard to make for. himself, +as for an idol, a high place in the imagination of the boy. For +this end he brought to bear upon him his choicest fragments of +knowledge, and all his power to interest; displayed in pleasing +harmonies his acquaintance with not a few of the more delicate +phases of humanity, and his familiarity with the world of +imagination as embodied in books; professed much admiration he did +not feel, in the line of Cosmo's admiration, going into raptures, +for instance, over Milton's profoundest gems, whose beauty he felt +only in a kind of reflected cold-moony way, through the external +perfection of their colour and carving; brought to his notice +Wordsworth's HAPPY WARRIOR, of which he professed, and truly, that +he had pasted it on his wall when a student, that at any moment he +might read it; and introduced him to the best poems of Shelley, a +favour for which alone Cosmo felt as if he must serve him for life. + +Cosmo was so entire, so utterly honest, so like a woman, that he +could not but regard the channel through which anything reached +him, as of the nature of that which came to him through it; how +could that serve to transmit which was not one in spirit with the +thing transmitted? To his eyes, therefore, Jermyn sat in the reflex +glory of Shelley, and of every other radiant spirit of which he had +widened his knowledge. How could Cosmo for instance regard him as a +common man through whom came to him first that thrilling +trumpet-cry, full of the glorious despair of a frustrate divinity, +beginning, + +O wild west wind, thou breath of autumn's being, + +--the grandest of all pagan pantheistic utterances he was ever +likely to hear! The whole night, and many a night after, was Cosmo +haunted with the aeolian music of its passionate, self-pitiful +self-abandonment. And in his dreams, the "be thou me, impetuous +one!" of the poem, seemed fulfilled in himself--for he and the wind +were one, careering wildly along the sky, combing out to their +length the maned locks of the approaching storm, and answering the +cry of weary poets everywhere over the world. + +As he sat by his patient's bed, Jermyn would also tell him about +his travels, and relate passages of adventure in various parts of +the world; and he came oftener, and staid longer, and talked more +and more freely, until at length in Cosmo's vision, the more +impressible perhaps from his weakness, the doctor seemed a hero, an +admirable Crichton; a paragon of doctors. + +In all this, Jermyn, to use his own dignified imagery, was +preparing an engine of assault against the heart of the lady. He +had no very delicate feeling of the relation of man and woman, +neither any revulsion from the loverly custom in low plays of +making a friend of the lady's maid, and bribing her to chaunt the +praises of the briber in the ears of her mistress. In his +intercourse with Lady Joan, something seemed always to interfere +and prevent him from showing himself to the best advantage--which +he never doubted to be the truest presentation; but if he could +send her a reflection of him in the mind of such an admirer as he +was making of Cosmo, she would then see him more as he desired to +be seen, and as he did not doubt he was. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +THE NAIAD. + + +At length Cosmo was able to go out, and Joan did not let him go by +himself. For several days he walked only a very little, but sat a +good deal in the sun, and rapidly recovered strength. At last, one +glorious morning of summer, they went out together, intending to +have a real little walk. + +Lady Joan had first made sure that her brother was occupied in his +laboratory, but still she dared not lead her patient to any part of +the garden or grounds ever visited by him. She took him, therefore, +through walks, some of them wide, and bordered with stately trees, +but all grown with weeds and moss, to the deserted portion with +which he had already made a passing acquaintance. There all lay +careless of the present, hopeless of the future, and hardly +dreaming of the past. It was long since foot of lady had pressed +these ancient paths, long since laugh or merry speech had been +heard in them. Nothing is lovelier than the result of the +half-neglect which often falls upon portions of great grounds, when +the owner's fancy has changed, and his care has turned to some +newer and more favoured spot; when there is moss on the walks, but +the weeds are few and fine; when the trees stand in their old +honour, yet no branch is permitted to obstruct a path; when flowers +have ceased to be sown or planted, but those that bloom are not +disregarded; while yet it is only through some stately door that +admission is gained, and no chance foot is free to stray in. But +here it was altogether different. That stage of neglect was long +past. The place was ragged, dirty, overgrown. There was between the +picture I have drawn and this reality, all the painful difference +between stately and beautiful matronhood, and the old age that, no +longer capable of ministering to its own decencies, has grown +careless of them. + +"At this time of the day there is plenty of sun here." said his +nurse, in a tone that seemed to savour of apology. + +"I think," said Cosmo, "the gardener told me some parts of the +grounds were better kept than this." + +"Yes," answered Joan, "but none of them are anything like what they +should be. My brother is so poor." + +"I don't believe you know what it is to be poor," said Cosmo. + +"Oh, don't I!" returned Joan with a sigh. "You see Constantine +requires for his experiments all the little money the trustees +allow." + +[Illustration] + +"I know this part," said Cosmo. "I made acquaintance with it the +last thing as I was growing ill. It looks to me so melancholy! If I +were here, I should never rest till I had with my own hands got it +into some sort of order." + +"Are you as strong as you used to be, Cosmo--I mean when you are +well?" asked Joan, willing to change the direction of the +conversation. + +"A good deal stronger, I hope," answered Cosmo. "But I am glad it +is not just this moment, for then I should have no right to be +leaning on you, Joan." + +"Do you like to lean on me, Cosmo?" + +"Indeed I do; I am proud of it!--But tell me why you don't take me +to a more cheerful part." + +She made him no answer. He looked in her face. It was very pale, +and tears were in her eyes. + +"Must I tell you, Cosmo?" she said. + +"No, certainly, if you would rather not." + +"But you might think it something wrong." + +"I should never imagine you doing anything wrong, Joan." + +"Then I must tell you, lest it should be wrong.--My brother does not +know that you are here." + +Now Cosmo had never imagined that Lord Mergwain did not know he was +at the castle. It was true he had not come to see him, but nothing +was simpler if Lord Mergwain desired to see Cosmo as little as +Cosmo desired, from his recollection of him at Castle Warlock, to +see Lord Mergwain. It almost took from him what little breath he +had to learn that he had been all this time in a man's house +without his knowledge. No doubt, in good sense and justice, the +house was Joan's too, however little the male aristocracy may be +inclined to admit such a statement of rights, but there must be +some one at the head of things, and, however ill he might occupy +it, that place was naturally his lordship's, and he had at least a +right to know who was in the house. Huge discomfort thereupon +invaded Cosmo, and a restless desire to be out of the place. His +silence frightened Joan. + +"Are you very angry with me, Cosmo," she said. + +"Angry! No, Joan! How could I be angry with you? Only it makes me +feel myself where I have no business to be--rather like a thief in +fact." + +"Oh, I am so sorry! But what could I do? You don't know my brother, +or you would not wonder. He seems to have a kind of hatred to your +family!--I do not in the least know why. Could my father have said +anything about you that he misunderstood?--But no, that could not +be!--And yet my father did say he knew your house many years +before!" + +"I don't care how Lord Mergwain regards me," said Cosmo; "what +angers me is that he should behave so to you that you dare not tell +him a thing. Now I AM sorry I came without writing to you first!--I +don't know though!--and I can't say I am sorry I was taken ill, for +all the trouble I have been to you; I should never have known +otherwise how beautiful and good you are." + +"I'm not good! and I'm not beautiful!" cried Joan, and burst into +tears of humiliation and sore--heartedness. What a contrast was +their house and its hospitality, she thought, to those in which +Cosmo lived one heart and one soul with his father! + +"But," she resumed the next moment, wiping away her tears, "you +must not think I have no right to do anything for you. My father +left all his personal property to me, and I know there was money in +his bureau, saved up for me--I KNOW it; and I know too that my +brother took it! I said never a word about it to him or any +one--never mentioned the subject before; but I can't have you +feeling as if you had been taking what I had no right to give!" + +They had come to the dry fountain, with its great cracked basin, in +the centre of which stood the parched naiad, pouring an endless +nothing from her inverted vase. Forsaken and sad she looked. All +the world had changed save her, and left her a memorial of former +thoughts, vanished ways, and forgotten things: she, alas! could not +alter, must be still the same, the changeless centre of change. All +the winters would beat upon her, all the summers would burn her; +but never more would the glad water pour plashing from her dusty +urn! never more would the birds make showers with their beating +wings in her cool basin! The dead leaves would keep falling year +after year to their rest, but she could not fall, must, through the +slow ages, stand, until storm and sunshine had wasted her atom by +atom away. + +On the broad rim of the basin they sat down. Cosmo turned towards +the naiad, such thoughts as I have written throbbing in his brain +like the electric light in an exhausted receiver, Joan with her +back to the figure, and her eyes on the ground, thinking Cosmo +brooded vexed on his newly discovered position. It was a sad +picture. The two were as the type of Nature and Art, the married +pair, here at strife--still together, but only the more +apart--Oberon and Titania, with ruin all about them. Through the +straggling branches appeared the tottering dial of Time where not a +sun-ray could reach it; for Time himself may well go to sleep where +progress is but disintegration. Time himself is nothing, does +nothing; he is but the medium in which the forces work. Time no +more cures our ills, than space unites our souls, because they +cross it to mingle. + +Had Cosmo suspected Joan's thought, he would have spoken; but the +urn of the naiad had brought back to him his young thoughts and +imaginations concerning the hidden source of the torrent that +rushed for ever along the base of Castle Warlock: the dry urn was +to him the end of all life that knows not its source--therefore, +when the water of its consciousness fails, cannot go back to the +changeless, ever renewing life, and unite itself afresh with the +self-existent, parent spring. A moment more and he began to tell +Joan what he was thinking--gave her the whole metaphysical history +of the development in him of the idea of life in connection with +the torrent and its origin ever receding, like a decoy-hope that +entices us to the truth, until at length he saw in God the one only +origin, the fountain of fountains, the Father of all lights--that +is, of all things, and all true thoughts. + +"If there were such an urn as that," he said, pointing to the +naiad's, "ever renewing the water inside it without pipe or spring, +there would be what we call a miracle, because, unable to follow +the appearance farther back, we should cease thought, and wonder +only in the presence of the making God. And such an urn would be a +true picture of the heart of God, ever sending forth life of +itself, and of its own will, into the consciousness of us receiving +the same." + +He grew eloquent, and talked as even Joan had never heard him +before. And she understood him, for the lonely desire after life +had wrought, making her capable. She felt more than ever that he +was a messenger to her from a higher region, that he had come to +make it possible for her to live, to enlarge her being, that it +might no more be but the half life of mere desire after something +unknown and never to be attained. + +Suddenly, with that inexplicable breach in the chain of association +over which the electric thought seems to leap, as over a mighty +void of spiritual space, Cosmo remembered that he had not yet sent +the woman whose generous trust had saved him from long pangs of +hunger, the price of her loaf. He turned quickly to Joan: was not +this a fresh chance of putting trust in her? What so precious thing +between two lives as faith? It is even a new creation in the midst +of the old. Would he not be wrong to ask it from another? And ask +it he must; for there was the poor woman, on whom he had no claim +of individual, developed friendship, in want of her money! Would he +not feel that Joan wronged him, if she asked some one else for any +help he could give her? He told her therefore the whole story of +his adventures on his way to her, and ending said, + +"Lend me a half-sovereign--please--to put in a letter for the first +woman. I will find something for the girl afterwards." + +Joan burst into tears. It was some time before she could speak, but +at last she told him plainly that she had no money, and dared not +ask her brother, because he would want to know first what she meant +to do with it. + +"Is it possible?" cried Cosmo. "Why, my father would never ask me +what I wanted a little money for!" + +"And you would be sure to tell him without his asking!" returned +Joan. "But I dare not tell Constantine. Last week I could have +asked him, because then, for your sake, I would have told a lie; +but I dare not do that now." + +She did not tell him she gave her last penny to a beggar on the +road the day he came, or that she often went for months without a +coin in her pocket. + +Cosmo was so indignant he could not speak; neither must he give +shape in her hearing to what he thought of her brother. She looked +anxiously in his face. + +"Dear Cosmo," she said, "do not be angry with me. I will borrow the +money from the housekeeper. I have never done such a thing, but for +your sake I will. You shall send it to-morrow." + +"No, no, dearest Joan!" cried Cosmo. "I will not hear of such a +thing. I should be worse than Lord Mergwain to lay a feather on the +burden he makes you carry." + +"I shouldn't mind it MUCH. It would be sweet to hurt my pride for +your sake." + +"Joan, if you do," said Cosmo, "I will not touch it. Don't trouble +your dear heart about it. God is taking care of the woman as well +as of us. I will send it afterwards." + +They sat silent--Cosmo thinking how he was to escape from this +poverty-stricken grandeur to his own humble heaven--as poor, no +doubt, but full of the dignity lacking here. He knew the state of +things at home too well to imagine his father could send him the +sum necessary without borrowing it, and he knew also how painful +that would be to him who had been so long a borrower ever +struggling to pay. + +Joan's eyes were red with weeping when at length she looked +pitifully in his face. Like a child he put both his arms about her, +seeking to comfort her. Sudden as a flash came a voice, calling her +name in loud, and as it seemed to Cosmo, angry tones. She turned +white as the marble on which they sat, and cast a look of agonized +terror on Cosmo. + +"It is Constantine!" said her lips, but hardly her voice. + +The blood rushed in full tide from Cosmo's heart, as it had not for +many a day, and coloured all his thin face. He drew himself up, and +rose with the look of one ready for love's sake to meet danger +joyously. But Joan threw her arms round him now, and held him. + +"No, no!" she said; "--this way! this way!" and letting him go, +darted into the pathless shrubbery, sure he would follow her. + +Cosmo hated turning his back on any person or thing, but the danger +here was to Joan, and he must do as pleased her. He followed +instantly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE GARDEN-HOUSE. + + +She threaded and forced her way swiftly through the thick-grown +shrubs, regardless of thorns and stripping twigs. It was a +wilderness for many yards, but suddenly the bushes parted, and +Cosmo saw before him a neglected building, overgrown with ivy, of +which it would have been impossible to tell the purpose, for it was +the product of a time when everything was made to look like +something else. The door of it, thick with accumulated green paint, +stood half open, as if the last who left it had failed in a feeble +endeavour to shut it. Like a hunted creature Joan darted in, and up +the creaking stair before her. Cosmo followed, every step +threatening to give way under him. + +The place was two degrees nearer ruin than his room. Great green +stains were on the walls; plaster was lying here and there in a +heap; the floors, rotted everywhere with damp, were sinking in all +directions. Yet there had been no wanton destruction, for the glass +in the windows was little broken. Merest neglect is all that is +required to make of both man and his works a heap; for will is at +the root of well-being, and nature speedily resumes what the will +of man does not hold against her. + +At the top of the stair, Joan turned into a room, and keeping along +the wall, went cautiously to the window, and listened. + +"I don't think he will venture here," she panted. "The gardener +tells me his lordship seems as much afraid of the place as he and +the rest of them. I don't mind it much--in the daytime.--You are +never frightened, Cosmo!" + +As she spoke, she turned on him a face which, for all the speed she +had made, was yet pale as that of a ghost. + +"I don't pretend never to be frightened," said Cosmo; "all I can +say is, I hope God will help me not to turn my back on anything, +however frightened I may be." + +But the room he was in seemed to him the most fearful place he had +ever beheld. His memory of the spare room at home, with all its age +and worn stateliness and evil report, showed mere innocence beside +this small common-looking, square room. If a room dead and buried +for years, then dug up again, be imaginable, that is what this was +like. It was furnished like a little drawing-room, and many of the +niceties of work and ornament that are only to be seen in a lady's +room, were yet recognizable here and there, for everything in it +was plainly as it had been left by the person who last occupied it. +But the aspect of the whole was indescribably awful. The rottenness +and dust and displacement by mere decay, looked enough to scare +even the ghosts, if they had any scare left in them. No doubt the +rats had at one time their share in the destruction, but it was +long since they had forsaken the house. There was no disorder. The +only thing that looked as if the room had been abandoned in haste, +was the door of a closet standing wide open. The house had a worse +repute than ghost could give it--worse than Joan knew, for no one +had ever told her what must add to her father's discredit. + +Something in a corner of the closet just mentioned, caught Cosmo's +eye, and he had taken one step towards it, when a sharp moan from +the lips of his companion arrested him. He turned, saw her face +agonized with fresh fear, and was rushing to the window, when she +ran AT him, pushed him back, and stood shaking. He thought she +would have fallen, and supported her. They stood listening +speechless, with faces like two moons in the daytime. Presently +Cosmo heard the rustling of twigs, and the sounds of back-swinging +branches. These noises came nearer and nearer. Joan gazed with +expanding eyes of terror in Cosmo's face, as if anywhere else she +must see what would kill her. + +"Joan!" cried the same voice Cosmo had heard in the garden. She +shook, and held so to Cosmo's arm that she left as sure marks of +her fingers there as ever did ghost. The sympathy of her fear +invaded him. He would have darted to meet the enemy, but she would +not let him go. The shudder of a new resolve passed through her, +and she began to pull him towards the closet. Involuntarily for a +moment he resisted, for he feared the worse risk to her; but her +action and look were imperative, and he yielded. + +They entered the closet and he pulled the door to close it upon +them. It resisted; he pulled harder; a rusted hinge gave way, and +the door dropped upon its front corner, so that he had partly to +lift it to get it to. Just as he succeeded, Joan's name on the +voice of her fear echoed awfully through the mouldy silences of the +house. In the darkness of the closet, where there was just room for +two to stand, she clung like a child to Cosmo, trembling in his +arms like one in a fit of the ague. It is mournful to think what a +fear many men are to the women of their house. The woman-fear in +the world is one of its most pitiful outcries after a saviour. + +Hesitating steps were heard below. They went from one to another of +the rooms, then began to ascend the stair. + +"Now, Joan," said Cosmo, holding her to him, "whatever you do, keep +quiet. Don't utter a sound. Please God, I will take care of you." + +She pressed his shoulder, but did not speak. + +The steps entered the room. Both Cosmo and Joan seemed to feel the +eyes that looked all about it. Then the steps came towards the +closet. Now was the decisive moment! Cosmo was on the point of +bursting out, with the cry of a wild animal, when something checked +him, and suddenly he made up his mind to keep still to the very +last. He put a hand on the lock, and pressed the door down against +the floor. In the faint light that came through the crack at the +top of it, he could see the dark terror of Joan's eyes fixed on his +face. A hand laid hold of the lock, and pulled, and pulled, but in +vain. Probably then Mergwain saw that the door was fallen from its +hinge. He turned the key, and the door had not altered its position +too far for his locking them in. Then they heard him go down the +stair, and leave the house. + +"He's not gone far!" said Cosmo. "He will have this closet open +presently. You heard him lock it! We must get out of it at once! +Please, let me go, Joan, dear! I must get the door open." + +She drew back from him as far as the space would allow. He put his +shoulder to the door, and sent it into the middle of the room with +a great crash, then ran and lifted it. + +"Come, Joan! Quick!" he cried. "Help me to set it up again." + +The moment something was to be done, Joan's heart returned to her. +In an instant they had the door jammed into its place, with the +bolt in the catch as Mergwain had left it. + +"Now," said Cosmo, "we must get down the stair, and hide somewhere +below, till he passes, and comes up here again." + +They ran to the kitchen, and made for a small cellar opening off +it. Hardly were they in it when they heard him re-enter and go up +the stair. The moment he was safely beyond them, they crept out, +and keeping close to the wall of the house, went round to the back +of it, and through the thicket to a footpath near, which led to the +highway. It was a severe trial to Cosmo's strength, now that the +excitement of adventure had relaxed, and left him the weaker. Again +and again Joan had to urge him on, but as soon as she judged it +safe, she made him sit, and supported him. + +"I believe," she said, "that wretched man of his has put him up to +it. Constantine has found out something. I would not for the world +he should learn all! You don't know--you are far too good to know +what he would think--yes, and tell me to my face! It was not an +easy life with my father, Cosmo, but I would rather be with him +now, wherever he is, than go on living in that house with my +brother." + +"What had we better do?" said Cosmo, trying to hide his exhaustion. + +"I am going to take you to the Jermyns'. They are the only friends +I have. Julia will be kind to you for my sake. I will tell them all +about it. Young Dr. Jermyn knows already." + +Alas, it was like being let down out of paradise into purgatory! +But when we cannot stay longer in paradise, we must, like our first +parents, make the best of our purgatory. + +"You will be able to come and see me, will you not, Joan," he said +sadly. + +"Yes, indeed!" she answered. "It will be easier in some ways than +before. At home I never could get rid of the dread of being found +out. As soon as I get you safe in, I must hurry home. Oh, dear! how +shall I keep clear of stories! Only, when you are safe, I shall not +care so much." + +In truth, although she had seemed to fear all for herself, her +great dread had been to hear Cosmo abused. + +"What you must have gone through for me!" said Cosmo. "It makes me +ache to think of it!" + +"It will be only pleasant to look back upon, Cosmo," returned Joan +with a sad smile. "But oh for such days again as we used to have on +the frozen hills! There are the hills again every winter, but will +the old days ever come again, Cosmo?" + +"The old days never come again," answered Cosmo. "But do you know +why, Joan?" + +"No," murmured Joan, very sadly. + +"Because they would be getting in the way of the new better days, +whose turn it is," replied Cosmo. "You tell God, Joan, all about +it; he will give us better days than those. To some, no doubt, it +seems absurd that there should be a great hearing Life in the +world; but it is what you and I need so much that we don't see how, +by any possibility, to get on without it! It cannot well look +absurd to us! And if you should ever find you canNOT pray any more, +tell me, and I will try to help you. I don't think that time will +ever come to me. I can't tell--but always hitherto, when I have +seemed to be at the last gasp, things have taken a turn, and it has +grown possible to go on again." + +"Ah, you are younger than me, Cosmo!" said Joan, more sadly than +ever. + +Cosmo laughed. + +"Don't you show me any airs on that ground," he said. "Leave that +to Agnes. She is two years older than I, and used always to say +when we were children, that she was old enough to be my mother." + +"But I am more than two years older than you, Cosmo," said Joan. + +"How much, then--exactly?" asked Cosmo. + +"Three years and a whole month," she answered. + +"Then you must be old enough to be my grandmother! But I don't mean +to be sat upon for that. Agnes gave me enough of that kind of +thing!" + +Whether Joan began to feel a little jealous of Agnes, or only more +interested in her, it would be hard to say, but Cosmo had now to +answer a good many questions concerning her; and when Joan learned +what a capable girl Agnes was, understanding Euclid and algebra, as +Mr. Simon said, better than any boy, Cosmo himself included, he had +ever had to teach, the earl's daughter did feel a little pain at +the heart because of the cotter's. + +They reached at last the village and the doctor's house, where, to +Joan's relief, the first person they met was Charles, to whom at +once she told the main part of their adventure that day. He +proposed just what Joan wished, and was by no means sorry at the +turn things had taken--putting so much more of the game, as he +called it, into his hands. + +Things were speedily arranged, all that was necessary told his +father and sister, and Joan invited to stay to lunch, which was +just ready. This she thought it better to do, especially as Jermyn +and his sister would then walk home with her. What the doctor would +say if he saw Mergwain, she did not venture to ask: she knew he +would tell any number of stories to get her out of a scrape, while +Cosmo would only do or endure anything, from thrashing her brother +to being thrashed himself. + +A comfortable room was speedily prepared for Cosmo, and Jermyn made +him go to bed at once. Nor did he allow him to see Joan again, for +he told her he was asleep, and she had better not disturb +him--which was not true--but might have been, for all the doctor +knew as he had not been to see. + +Joan did not fall in with her brother for a week, and when she saw +him he did not allude to the affair. What was in his mind she did +not know for months. Always, however, he was ready to believe that +the mantle of the wickedness of his fathers, which he had so +righteously refused to put on, had fallen upon his sister instead. +Only he had no proof. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +CATCH YOUR HORSE. + + +When Cosmo was left alone in his room, with orders from the doctor +to put himself to bed, he sank wearily on a chair that stood with +its back to the light; then first his eye fell upon the stick he +carried. Joan had brought him his stick when he was ready to go +into the garden, but this was not that stick. He must have caught +it up somewhere instead of his own! Where could it have been? He +had no recollection either of laying down his own, or of thinking +he took it again. After a time he recalled this much, that, in the +horrible room they had last left, at the moment when Joan cried out +because of the sound of her brother's approach, he was walking to +the closet to look at something in it that had attracted his +attention--seeming in the dusk, from its dull shine, the hilt of a +sword. The handle of the walking stick he now held must be that +very thing! But he could not tell whether he had caught it up with +any idea of defence, or simply in the dark his hand had come into +contact with it and instinctively closed upon it, he could not even +conjecture. But why should he have troubled his head so about a +stick? Because this was a notably peculiar one: the handle of that +stick was in form a repetition of the golden horse that had carried +him to the university! Their common shape was so peculiar, that not +only was there no mistaking it, but no one who saw the two could +have avoided the conviction that they had a common origin, and if +any significance, then a common one. There was an important +difference however: even if in substance this were the same as the +other, it could yet be of small value: the stick thus capped was a +bamboo, rather thick, but handle and all, very light. + +Proceeding to examine it, Cosmo found that every joint was +double-mounted and could be unscrewed. Of joints there were three, +each forming a small box. In the top one were a few grains of +snuff, in the middle one a little of something that looked like +gold dust, and the third smelt of opium. The top of the cane had a +cap of silver, with a screw that went into the lower part of the +horse, which thus made a sort of crutch-handle to the stick. He had +screwed off, and was proceeding to replace this handle, when his +eye was arrested, his heart seemed to stand still, and the old +captain's foolish rime came rushing into his head. He started from +his chair, took the thing to the window, and there stood regarding +it fixedly. Beyond a doubt this was his great grand-uncle's, the +auld captain's, stick, the only thing missed when his body was +found! but whence such an assured conviction? and why did the old +captain's rime, whose application to the golden horse his father +and he had rejected, return at sight of this one, so much its +inferior? In a word, whence the eagerness of curiosity that now +possessed Cosmo? + +In turning the handle upside down, he saw that from one of the +horse's delicately finished shoes, a nail was missing, and its hole +left empty. It was a hind shoe too! + + + "Caitch yer naig, an' pu' his tail; + In his bin' heel caw a nail!" + +"I do believe," he said to himself, "this is the horse that was in +the old villain's head every time he uttered the absurd rime!" + +There must then be in the cane a secret, through which possibly the +old man had overreached himself! Had that secret, whatever it was, +been discovered, or did it remain for him now to discover? + +A passion of curiosity seized him, but something held him back. +What was it? The stick was not his property; any discovery +concerning or by means of it, ought to be made with the consent and +in the presence of the owner of it--her to whom the old lord had +left his personal property! + +And now Cosmo had to go through an experience as strange as it was +new, for, in general of a quietly expectant disposition, he had now +such a burning desire to conquer the secret of the stick, as +appeared to him to savour of POSSESSION. It was so unlike himself, +that he was both angry and ashamed. He set it aside and went to +bed. But the haunting eagerness would not let him rest; it kept him +tossing from side to side, and was mingled with strangest fears +lest the stick should vanish as mysteriously as it had come--lest +when he woke he should find it had been carried away. He got out of +bed, unscrewed the horse, and placed it under his pillow. But there +it tormented him like an aching spot. It went on drawing him, +tempting him, mocking him. He could not keep his hands from it. A +hundred times he resolved he would not touch it again, and of +course kept his resolution so long as he thought of it; but the +moment he forgot it, which he did repeatedly in wondering why Joan +did not come, the horse would be in his hand. Every time he woke +from a moment's sleep, he found it in his hand. + +On his return from accompanying Lady Joan, Jermyn came to him, +found him feverish, and prescribed for him. Disappointed that Joan +was gone without seeing him, his curiosity so entirely left him +that he could not recall what it was like, and never imagined its +possible return. Nor did it reappear so long as he was awake, but +all through his dreams the old captain kept reminding him that the +stick was his own. "Do it; do it; don't put off," he kept saying; +but as often as Cosmo asked him what, he could never hear his +reply, and would wake yet again with the horse in his hand. In the +morning he screwed it on the stick again, and set it by his +bed-side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +PULL HIS TAIL. + + +About noon, when both the doctors happened to be out, Joan came to +see him, and was more like her former self than she had been for +many days. Hardly was she seated when he took the stick, and said, + +"Did you ever see that before, Joan?" + +"Do you remember showing me a horse just like that one, only +larger?" she returned. "It was in the drawing-room." + +"Quite well," he answered. + +"It made me think of this," she continued, "which I had often seen +in that same closet where I suppose you found it yesterday." + +Cosmo unscrewed the joints and showed her the different boxes. + +"There's nothing in them," he said; "but I suspect there is +something about this stick more than we can tell. Do you remember +the silly Scotch rime I repeated the other day, when you told me I +had been talking poetry in my sleep?" + +"Yes, very well," she answered. + +"Those are words an uncle of my father, whom you may have heard of +as the old captain, used to repeat very often."--At this Joan's +face turned pale, but her back was to the light, and he did not see +it.--"I will say them presently in English, that you may know what +sense there may be in the foolishness of them. Now I must tell you +that I am all but certain this stick once belonged to that same +great uncle of mine--how it came into your father's possession I +cannot say--and last night, as I was looking at it, I saw something +that made me nearly sure this is the horse, insignificant as it +looks, that was in my uncle's head when he repeated the rime. But +Iwould do nothing without you." + +"How kind of you, Cosmo!" + +"Not kind; I had no right; the stick is yours." + +"How can that be, if it belonged to your great uncle?" said Joan, +casting down her eyes. + +"Because it was more than fifty years in your father's possession, +and he left it to you. Besides, I cannot be absolutely certain it +is the same." + +"Then I give it to you, Cosmo." + +"I will not accept it, Joan--at least before you know what it is +you want to give me.--And now for this foolish rime--in English!" + + "Catch your horse and pull his tail; + In his hind heel drive a nail; + Pull his ears from one another: + Stand up and call the king your brother!" + +"What's to come of it, I know no more than you do, Joan," continued +Cosmo; "but if you will allow me, I will do with this horse what +the rime says, and if they belong to each other, we shall soon +see." + +"Do whatever you please, Cosmo," returned Joan, with a tremble in +her voice. + +Cosmo began to screw off the top of the stick. Joan left her chair, +drew nearer to the bed, and presently sat down on the edge of it, +gazing with great wide eyes. She was more moved than Cosmo; there +was a shadow of horror in her look; she dreaded some frightful +revelation. Her father's habit of muttering his thoughts aloud, had +given her many things to hear, although not many to understand. +When the horse was free in Cosmo's hand, he set the stick aside, +looked up, and said, + +"The first direction the rime gives, is to pull his tail." +With that he pulled the horse's tail--of silver, apparently, like +the rest of him--pulled it hard; but it seemed of a piece with his +body, and there was no visible result. The first shadow of +approaching disappointment came creeping over him, but he looked up +at Joan, and smiled as he said, + +"He doesn't seem to mind that! We'll try the next thing--which is, +to drive a nail in his hind heel.--Now look here, Joan! Here, in +one of his hind shoes, is a hole that looks as if one of the nails +had come out! That is what struck me, and brought the rime into my +head! But how drive a nail into such a hole as that?" + +"Perhaps a tack would go in," said Joan, rising. "I shall pull one +out of the carpet." + +"A tack would be much too large, I think," said Cosmo. "Perhaps a +brad out of the gimp of that chair would do.--Or, stay, I know! +Have you got a hair-pin you could give me?" + +Joan sat down again on the bed, took off her bonnet, and searching +in her thick hair soon found one. Cosmo took it eagerly, and +applied it to the hole in the shoe. Nothing the least larger would +have gone in. He pushed it gently, then a little harder--felt as if +something yielded a little, returning his pressure, and pushed a +little harder still. Something gave way, and a low noise followed, +as of a watch running down. The two faces looked at each other, one +red, and one pale. The sound ceased. They waited a little, in +almost breathless silence. Nothing followed. + +"Now," said Cosmo, "for the last thing!" + +"Not quite the last," returned Joan, with what was nearly an +hysterical laugh, trying to shake off the fear that grew upon her; +"the last thing is to stand up and call the king your brother." + +"That much, as non-essential, I daresay we shall omit," replied +Cosmo.--"The next then is, to pull his ears from each other." + +He took hold of one of the tiny ears betwixt the finger and thumb +of each hand, and pulled. The body of the horse came asunder, +divided down the back, and showed inside of it a piece of paper. +Cosmo took it out. It was crushed, rather than folded, round +something soft. He handed it to Joan. + +"It is your turn now, Joan," he said; "you open it. I have done my +part." + +Cosmo's eyes were now fixed on the movements of Joan's fingers +undoing the little parcel, as hers had been on his while he was +finding it. Within the paper was a piece of cotton wool. Joan +dropped the paper, and unfolded the wool. Bedded in the middle of +that were two rings. The eyes of Cosmo fixed themselves on one of +them--the eyes of Joan upon the other. In the one Cosmo recognized +a large diamond; in the other Joan saw a dark stone engraved with +the Mergwain arms. + +"This is a very valuable diamond," said Cosmo, looking closely at +it. + +"Then that shall be your share, Cosmo," returned Joan. "I will keep +this if you don't mind." + +"What have you got?" asked Cosmo. + +"My father's signet-ring, I believe," she answered. "I have often +heard him--bemoan the loss of it." + +Lord Mergwain's ring in the old captain's stick! Things began to +put themselves together in Cosmo's mind. He lay thinking. + +The old captain had won these rings from the young lord and put +them for safety in the horse; Borland suspected, probably charged +him with false play; they fought, and his lordship carried away the +stick to recover his own; but had failed to find the rings, taking +the boxes in the bamboo for all there was of stowage in it. + +It was by degrees, however, that this theory formed itself in his +mind; now he saw only a glimmer of it here and there. + +In the meantime he was not a little disappointed. Was this all the +great mystery of the berimed horse? It was as if a supposed opal +had burst, and proved but a soap-bubble! + +Joan sat silent, looking at the signet-ring, and the tears came +slowly in her eyes. + +"I MAY keep this ring, may I not, Cosmo?" she said. + +"My dear Joan!" exclaimed Cosmo, "the ring is not mine to give +anybody, but if you will give me the stick, I shall be greatly +obliged to you." + +"I will give it you on one condition, Cosmo," answered Joan, "--that +you take the ring as well. I do not care about rings." + +"I do," answered Cosmo; "but sooner than take this from you, Joan, +I would part with the hope of ever seeing you again. Why, dear +Joan, you don't know what this diamond is worth!--and you have no +money!" + +"Neither have you," retorted Joan. "--What is the thing worth?" + +"I do not like to say lest I should be wrong. If I could weigh it, +I should be better able to tell you. But its worth must anyhow be, +I think--somewhere towards two hundred pounds." + +"Then take it, Cosmo. Or if you won't have it, give it to your +father, with my dear love." + +"My father would say to me--'How could you bring it, Cosmo!' But I +will not forget to give him the message. That he will be delighted +to have." + +"But, Cosmo! it is of no use to me. How could I get the money you +speak of for it? If I were to make an attempt of the kind, my +brother would be sure to hear of it. It would be better to give it +him at once." + +"That difficulty is easily got over," answered Cosmo. "When I go, I +will take it with me; I know where to get a fair price for it--not +always easy for anything; I will send you the money, and you will +be quite rich for a little while." + +"My brother opens all my letters," replied Joan. "I don't think he +cares to read them, but he sees who they are from." + +"Do you have many letters, Joan?" + +"Not many. Perhaps about one a month, or so." + +"I could send it to Dr. Jermyn." + +Joan hesitated a moment, but did not object. The next instant they +heard the doctor's step at the door, and his hand on the lock. Joan +rose hastily, caught up her bonnet, and sat down a little way off. +Cosmo drew the ring and the pieces of the horse under the +bed-clothes. + +Jermyn cast a keen glance on the two as he entered, took for +confusion the remains of excitement, and said to himself he must +make haste. He felt Cosmo's pulse, and pronounced him feverish, +then, turning to Joan, said he must not talk, for he had not got +over yesterday; it might be awkward if he had a relapse. Joan rose +at once, and took her leave, saying she would come and see him the +next morning. Jermyn went down with her, and sent Cosmo a draught. + +When he had taken it, he felt inclined to sleep, and turned himself +from the light. But the stick, which was leaning against the head +of the bed, slipped, and fell on a part of the floor where there +was no carpet; the noise startled and roused him, and the thought +came that he had better first of all secure the ring--for which +purpose undoubtedly there could be no better place than the horse! +There, however, the piece of cotton wool would again be necessary, +for without it the ring would rattle. He put the ring in the heart +of it, replaced both in the horse, and set about discovering how to +close it again. + +This puzzled him not a little. Spring nor notch, nor any other +means of attachment between the two halves of the animal, could he +find. But at length he noted that the tail had slipped a little way +out, and was loose; and experimenting with it, by and by discovered +that by holding the parts together, and winding the tail round and +round, the horse--how, he could not tell--was restored to its +former apparent solidity. + +And now where would the horse be safest? Clearly in its own place +on the stick. He got out of bed therefore to pick the stick up, and +in so doing saw on the carpet the piece of paper which had been +round the cotton. This he picked up also, and getting again into +bed, had begun to replace the handle of the bamboo, when his eyes +fell again on the piece of paper, and he caught sight of crossing +lines on it, which looked like part of a diagram of some sort. He +smoothed it out, and saw indeed a drawing, but one quite +unintelligible to him. It must be a sketch or lineation of +something--but of what? or of what kind of thing? It might be of +the fields constituting a property; it might be of the stones in a +wall; it might be of an irregular mosaic; or perhaps it might be +only a school-boy's exercise in trigonometry for land-measuring. It +must mean something; but it could hardly mean anything of +consequence to anybody! Still it had been the old captain's +probably--or perhaps the old lord's: he would replace it also where +he had found it. Once more he unscrewed the horse from the stick, +opened it with Joan's hair-pin, placed the paper in it, closed all +up again, and lay down, glad that Joan had got such a ring, but +thinking the old captain had made a good deal of fuss about a small +matter. He fell fast asleep, slept soundly, and woke much better. + +In the evening came the doctor, and spent the whole of it with him, +interesting and pleasing him more than ever, and displaying one +after another traits of character which Cosmo, more than prejudiced +in his favour already, took for additional proofs of an altogether +exceptional greatness of character and aim. Nor am I capable of +determining how much or how little Jermyn may have deceived himself +in regard of the same. + +Now that Joan had this ring, and his personal attachment to the +doctor had so greatly increased, Cosmo found himself able to revert +to the offer Jermyn once made of lending him a little money, which +he had then declined. He would take the ring to Mr. Burns on his +way home, and then ask Joan to repay Dr. Jermyn out of what he sent +her for it. He told Jermyn therefore, as he sat by his bed-side, +that he found himself obliged after all to accept the said generous +proposal, but would return the money before he got quite home. + +The doctor smiled, with reasons for satisfaction more than Cosmo +knew, and taking out his pocket-book, said, as he opened it, + +"I have just cashed a cheque, fortunately, so you had better have +the money at once.--Don't bother yourself about it," he added, as +he handed him the notes; "there is no hurry. I know it is safe." + +"This is too much," said Cosmo. + +"Never mind; it is better to have too much than too little; it will +be just as easy to repay." + +Cosmo thanked him, and put the money under his pillow. The doctor +bade him good night, and left him. + +The moment he was alone, a longing greater than he had ever yet +felt, arose in his heart to see his father. The first hour he was +able to travel, he would set out for home! His camera obscura +haunted with flashing water and speedwells and daisies and +horse-gowans, he fell fast asleep, and dreamed that his father and +he were defending the castle from a great company of pirates, with +the old captain at the head of them. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THE THICK DARKNESS. + + +The next day he was still better, and could not think why the +doctor would not let him get up. As the day went on, he wondered +yet more why Joan did not come to see him. Not once did the thought +cross him that it was the doctor's doing. If it had, he would but +have taken it for a precaution--as indeed it was, for the doctor's +sake, not his. Jermyn would have as little intercourse between them +as might be, till he should have sprung his spiritual mine. But he +did all he could to prevent him from missing her, and the same +night opened all his heart to Cosmo--that is, all the show-part of +it. + +[Illustration: THE NEXT DAY HE WAS STILL BETTER.] + +In terms extravagant, which he seemed to use because he could not +repress them, he told his frozen listener that his whole nature, +heart and soul, had been for years bound up in Lady Joan; that he +had again and again been tempted to deliver himself by death from +despair; that if he had to live without her, he would be of no use +in the world, but would cease to care for anything. He begged +therefore his friend Cosmo Warlock, seeing he stood so well with +the lady, to speak what he honestly could in his behalf; for if she +would not favour him, he could no longer endure life. His had never +been over full, for he had had a hard youth, in which he had often +been driven to doubt whether there was indeed a God that cared how +his creatures went on. He must not say all he felt, but life, he +repeated, would be no longer worth leading without at least some +show of favour from Lady Joan. + +At any former time, such words would have been sufficient to +displace Jermyn from the pedestal on which Cosmo had set him. What! +if all the ladies in the world should forsake him, was not God yet +the all in all? But now as he lay shivering, the words entering his +ears seemed to issue from his soul. He listened like one whom the +first sting has paralyzed, but who feels the more every succeeding +invasion of death. It was a silent, yet a mortal struggle. He held +down his heart like a wild beast, which, if he let it up for one +moment, would fly at his throat and strangle him. Nor could the +practiced eye of the doctor fail to perceive what was going on in +him. He only said to himself--"Better him than me! He is young and +will get over it better than I should." He read nobility and +self-abnegation in every shadow that crossed the youth's +countenance, telling of the hail mingled with fire that swept +through his universe; and said to himself that all was on his side, +that he had not miscalculated a hair's-breadth. He saw at the same +time Cosmo's heroic efforts to hide his sufferings, and left him to +imagine himself successful. But how Cosmo longed for his departure, +that he might in peace despair!--for such seemed to himself his +desire for solitude. + +What is it in suffering that makes man and beast long for +loneliness? I think it is an unknown something, more than self, +calling out of the solitude--"Come to me!--Come!" How little of the +tenderness our human souls need, and after which consciously or +unconsciously they hunger, do we give or receive! The cry of the +hurt heart for solitude, seems to me the call of the heart of +God--changed by the echo of the tiny hollows of the heart of his +creature--"Come out from among them: come to me, and I will give +you rest!" He alone can give us the repose of love, the peace after +which our nature yearns. + +Hurt by the selfishness and greed of men, to escape from which we +must needs go out of the world, worse hurt by our own indignation +at their wrong, and our lack of patience under it, we are his +creatures and his care still. The RIGHT he claims as his affair, +and he will see it done; but the wrong is by us a thousand times +well suffered, if it but drive us to him, that we may learn he is +indeed our very lover. + +That was a terrible night for Cosmo--a night billowy with black +fire. It reminded him afterwards of nothing so much as that word of +the Lord--THE POWER OF DARKNESS. It was not merely darkness with no +light in it, but darkness alive and operative. He had hardly dared +suspect the nature, and only now knew the force, and was about to +prove the strength of the love with which he loved Joan. Great +things may be foreseen, but they cannot be known until they arrive. +His illness had been ripening him to this possibility of loss and +suffering. His heart was now in blossom: for that some hearts must +break;--I may not say in FULL blossom, for what the full blossom of +the human heart is, the holiest saint with the mightiest +imagination cannot know--he can but see it shine from afar. + +It was a severe duty that was now required of him--I do not mean +the performance of the final request the doctor had made--that +Cosmo had forgotten, neither could have attempted with honesty; for +the emotion he could not but betray, would have pleaded for +himself, and not for his friend; it was enough that he must yield +the lady of his dreams, become the lady as well of his waking and +hoping soul. Perhaps she did not love Jermyn--he could not tell; +but Jermyn was his friend and had trusted in him, confessing that +his soul was bound up in the lady; one of them must go to the +torture chamber, and when the QUESTION lay between him and another, +Cosmo knew for which it must be. He alone was in Cosmo's hands; his +own self was all he held and had power over, all he could offer, +could yield. Mr. Simon had taught him that, as a mother gives her +children money to give, so God gives his children SELVES, with +their wishes and choices, that they may have the true offering to +lay upon the true altar; for on that altar nothing else will burn +than SELVES. + +"Very hard! A tyrannical theory!" says my reader? So will it +forever appear to the man who has neither the courage nor the sense +of law to enable him to obey. But that man shall be the eternal +slave who says to Duty _I_ WILL NOT. Nor do I care to tell such a +man of the "THOUSAND FOLD"--of the truth concerning that altar, that +it is indeed the nest of God's heart, in which the poor, unsightly, +unfledged offering shall lie, until they come to shape and loveliness, +and wings grow upon them to bear them back to us divinely precious. +Cosmo THOUGHT none of all this now--it had vanished from his +consciousness, but was present in his life--that is, in his action: he +did not feel, he DID it all--did it even when nothing seemed worth +doing. + +How much greater a man than he was Jermyn! How much more worthy of +the love of a woman like Joan! How good he had been to him! What a +horrible thing it would be if Jermyn had saved his life that he +might destroy Jermyn's! Perhaps Joan might have come one day to +love him; but in the meantime how miserable she was with her +brother, and when could he have delivered her! while here was one, +and a far better than he, who could, the moment she consented, take +her to a house of her own where she would be a free woman! For him +to come in the way, would be to put his hand also to the rack on +which the life of Joan lay stretched! + +Again I say I do not mean that all this passed consciously through +the mind of Cosmo during that fearful night. His suffering was too +intense, and any doubt concerning duty too far from him, to allow +of anything that could be called thought; but such were the +fundamental facts that lay below his unselfquestioned resolve--such +was the soil in which grew the fruits, that is, the deeds, the +outcome of his nature. For himself, the darkness billowed and +rolled about him, and life was a frightful thing. + +For where was God this awful time? Nowhere within the ken of the +banished youth. In his own feeling Cosmo was outside the city of +life--not even among the dogs--outside with bare nothingness--cold +negation. Alas for him who had so lately offered to help another to +pray, thinking the hour would never come to him when he could not +pray! It had COME! He did not try to pray. The thought of prayer +did not wake in him! Let no one say he was punished for his +overconfidence--for his presumption! There was no presumption in +the matter; there was only ignorance. He had not learned--nor has +any one learned more than in part--what awful possibilities lie the +existence we call WE. He had but spoken from what he knew--that +hitherto life for him had seemed inseparable from prayer to his +Father. And was it separable? Surely not. He could not pray, +true--but neither was he alive. To live, one must chose to live. He +was dead with a death that was heavy upon him. There is a far worse +death--the death that is content and suffers nothing; but +annihilation is not death--is nothing like it. Cosmo's condition +had no evil in it--only a ghastly imperfection--an abyssmal +lack--an exhaustion at the very roots of being. God seemed away, as +he could never be and be God. But every commonest day of his life, +he who would be a live child of the living has to fight with the +God-denying look of things, and believe that in spite of that look, +seeming ever to assert that God has nothing to do with them, God +has his own way--the best, the only, the live way, of being in +everything, and taking his own pure, saving will in them; and now +for a season Cosmo had fallen in the fight, and God seemed gone, +and THINGS rushed in upon him and overwhelmed him. It was death. He +did not yet know it--but it was not the loss of Joan, but the +seeming loss of his God, that hollowed the last depth of his +misery. But that is of all things the surest to pass; for God +changing not, his life must destroy every false show of him. Cosmo +was now one of those holy children who are bound hand and foot in +the furnace, until the fire shall have consumed their bonds that +they may pace their prison. Stifled with the smoke and the glow, he +must yet for a time lie helpless; not yet could he lift up his +voice and call upon the ice and the cold, the frost and the snow to +bless the Lord, to praise and exalt him forever. But God was not +far from him. Feelings are not scientific instruments for that +which surrounds them; they but speak of themselves when they say, +"I am cold; I am dark." Perhaps the final perfection will be when +our faith is utterly and absolutely independent of our feelings. I +dare to imagine this the final victory of our Lord, when he +followed the cry of WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? with the words, +FATHER, INTO THY HANDS _I_ COMMEND MY SPIRIT. + +Shall we then bemoan any darkness? Shall we not rather gird up our +strength to encounter it, that we too from our side may break the +passage for the light beyond? He who fights with the dark shall +know the gentleness that makes man great--the dawning countenance +of the God of hope. But that was not for Cosmo just yet. The night +must fulfil its hours. Men are meant and sent to be troubled--that +they may rise above the whole region of storm, above all +possibility of being troubled. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +THE DAWN. + + +Strange to say, there was no return of his fever. He seemed, +through the utter carelessness of mental agony, so to have +abandoned his body, that he no longer affected it. A man must have +some hope, to be aware of his body at all. As the darkness began to +yield he fell asleep. + +Then came a curious dream. For ages Joan had been persuading him to +go with her, and the old captain to go with him--the latter angry +and pulling him, the former weeping and imploring. He would go with +neither, and at last they vanished both. He sat solitary on the +side of a bare hill, and below him was all that remained of Castle +Warlock. He had been dead so many years, that it was now but a +half--shapeless ruin of roofless walls, haggard and hollow and gray +and desolate. It stood on its ridge like a solitary tooth in the +jaw of some skeleton beast. But where was his father? How was it he +had not yet found him, if he had been so long dead? He must rise +and seek him! He must be somewhere in the universe! Therewith came +softly stealing up, at first hardly audible, a strain of music from +the valley below. He listened. It grew as it rose, and held him +bound. Like an upward river, it rose, and grew with a strong +rushing, until it flooded all his heart and brain, working in him a +marvellous good, which yet he did not understand. And all the time, +his eyes were upon the dead home of his fathers. Wonder of wonders, +it began to change--to grow before his eyes! It was growing out of +the earth like a plant! It grew and grew until it was as high as in +the old days, and then it grew yet higher! A roof came upon it, and +turrets and battlements--all to the sound of that creative music; +and like fresh shoots from its stem, out from it went wings and +walls. Like a great flower it was rushing visibly on to some mighty +blossom of grandeur, when the dream suddenly left him, and he woke. + +But instead of the enemy coming in upon him like a flood as his +consciousness returned, to his astonishment he found his soul as +calm as it was sad. God had given him while he slept, and he knew +him near as his own heart! The first THOUGHT that came was, that +his God was Joan's God too, and therefore all was well; so long as +God took care of her, and was with him, and his will was done in +them both, all was on the way to be well so as nothing could be +better. And with that he knew what he had to do--knew it without +thinking--and proceeded at once to do it. He rose, and dressed +himself. + +It was still the gray sunless morning. The dream, with its +dream-ages of duration, had not crossed the shallows of the dawn. +Quickly he gathered his few things into his knapsack--fortunately +their number had nowise increased--took his great-uncle's bamboo, +saw that his money was safe, stole quietly down the stair, and +softly and safely out of the house, and, ere any of its inhabitants +were astir, had left the village by the southward road. + +When he had walked about a mile, he turned into a road leading +eastward, with the design of going a few miles in that direction, +and then turning to the north. When he had travelled what to his +weakness was a long distance, all at once, with the dismay of a +perverse dream, rose above the trees the towers of Cairncarque. Was +he never to escape them, in the body any more than in the spirit? +He turned back, and again southwards. + +But now he had often to sit down; as often, however, he was able to +get up and walk. Coming to a village he learned that a coach for +the north would pass within an hour, and going to the inn had some +breakfast, and waited for it. Finding it would pass through the +village he had left, he took an inside place; and when it stopped +for a moment in the one street of it, saw Charles Jermyn cross it, +evidently without a suspicion that his guest was not where he had +left him. + +When he had travelled some fifty miles, partly to save his money, +partly because he felt the need of exercise, not to stifle thought, +but to clear it, he left the coach, and betook himself to his feet. +Alternately walking and riding, he found his strength increase as +he went on; and his sorrow continued to be that of a cloudy summer +day, nor was ever, so long as the journey lasted, again that of the +fierce wintry tempest. + +At length he drew nigh the city where he had spent his student +years. On foot, weary, and dusty, and worn, he entered it like a +returning prodigal. Few Scotchmen would think he had made good use +of his learning! But he had made the use of it God required, and +some Scotchmen, with and without other learning, have learned to +think that a good use, and in itself a sufficient success--for that +man came into the world not to make money, but to seek the kingdom +and righteousness of God. + +He walked straight into Mr. Burns's shop. + +The jeweller did not know him at first; but the moment he spoke, +recognized him. Cosmo had been dubious what his reception might +be--after the way in which their intimacy had closed; but Mr. Burns +held out his hand as if they had parted only the day before, and +said, + +"I thought of the two you would be here before Death! Man, you +ought to give a body time." + +"Mr. Burns," replied Cosmo, "I am very sorry I behaved to you as I +did. I am not sorry I said what I did, for I am no less sure about +that than I was then; but I am sorry I never came again to see you. +Perhaps we did not quite understand on either side." + +"We shall understand each other better now, I fancy," said Mr. +Burns. "I am glad you have not changed your opinion, for I have +changed mine. If it weren't for you, I should be retired by this +time, and you would have found another name over the door. But +we'll have a talk about all that. Allow me to ask you whither you +are bound." + +"I am on my way home," answered Cosmo. "I have not seen my father +for several--for more than two years." + +"You'll do me the honour to put up at my house to-night, will you +not? I am a bachelor, as you know, but will do my best to make you +comfortable." + +Cosmo gladly assented; and as it was now evening, Mr. Burns +hastened the shutting of his shop; and in a few minutes they were +seated at supper. + +As soon as the servant left them, they turned to talk of divine +righteousness in business; and thence to speak of the jeweller's; +after which Cosmo introduced that of the ring. Giving a short +narrative of the finding of it, and explaining the position of Lady +Joan with regard to it, so that his host might have no fear of +compromising himself, he ended with telling him he had brought it +to him, and with what object. + +"I am extremely obliged to you, Mr. Warlock," responded the +jeweller, "for placing such confidence in me, and that +notwithstanding the mistaken principles I used to advocate. I have +seen a little farther since then, I am happy to say; and this is +how it was: the words you then spoke, and I took so ill, would keep +coming into my mind, and that at the most inconvenient moments, +until at last I resolved to look the thing in the face, and think +it fairly out. The result is, that, although I daresay nobody has +recognized any difference in my way of doing business, there is one +who must know a great difference: I now think of my neighbour's +side of the bargain as well as of my own, and abstain from doing +what it would vex me to find I had not been sharp enough to prevent +him from doing with me. In consequence, I am not so rich this day +as I might otherwise have been, but I enjoy life more, and hope the +days of my ignorance God has winked at." + +Cosmo could not reply for pleasure. Mr. Burns saw his emotion, and +understood it. From that hour they were friends who loved each +other. + +"And now for the ring!" said the jeweller. + +Cosmo produced it. + +Mr. Burns looked at it as if his keen eyes would pierce to the very +heart of its mystery, turned it every way, examined it in every +position relative to the light, removed it from its setting, went +through the diamond catechism with it afresh, then weighed it, +thought over it, and said, + +"What do you take the stone to be worth, Mr. Warlock?" + +"I can only guess, of course," replied Cosmo; "but the impression +on my mind is, that it is worth more nearly two hundred than a +hundred and fifty pounds." + +"You are right," answered Mr. Burns, "and you ought to have +followed my trade; I could make a good jeweller of you. This ring +is worth two hundred guineas, fair market-value. But as I can ask +for no one more than it is absolutely worth, I must take my profit +off you: do you think that is fair?" + +"Perfectly," answered Cosmo. + +"Then I must give you only two hundred pounds for it, and take the +shillings myself. You see it may be some time before I get my money +again, so I think five per cent on the amount is not more than the +fair thing." + +"It seems to me perfectly fair, and very moderate," replied Cosmo. + +As soon as dinner was over, he sat down to write to Joan. While +there was nothing that must be said, he had feared writing. This +was what he wrote: + +"My dearest Joan, + +"As you have trusted me hitherto, so trust me still, and wait for +an explanation of my peculiar behaviour in going away without +bidding you good-by, till the proper time comes--which must come +one day, for our master said, more than once, that there was +nothing covered which should not be revealed, neither hid that +should not be known. I feel sure therefore, of being allowed to +tell you everything sometime. + +"I herewith send you a cheque as good as bank-notes, much safer to +send, and hardly more difficult for Dr Jermyn to turn into +sovereigns. + +"I borrowed of him fifteen pounds--a good deal more than I wanted. +I have therefore got Mr. Burns, my friend, the jeweller, in this +city, to add five pounds to the two hundred which he gives for the +ring, and beg you, Joan, for the sake of old times, and new also, +to pay for me the fifteen pounds to Dr. Jermyn, which I would much +rather owe to you than to him. The rest of it, the other ten +pounds, I will pay you when I can--it may not be in this world. And +in the next--what then, Joan? Why then--but for that we will +wait--who more earnestly than I? + +"To all the coming eternity, dear Joan, I shall never cease to love +you--first for yourself, then for your great lovely goodness to me. +May the only perfection, whose only being is love, take you to his +heart--as he is always trying to do with all of us! I mean to let +him have me out and out. + +"Dearest Joan, Your far-off cousin, but near friend, + +"COSMO WARLOCK." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +HOME AGAIN. + + +Early the next day, while the sun was yet casting huge diagonal +shadows across the wide street, Cosmo climbed to the roof of the +Defiance coach, his heart swelling at the thought of being so soon +in his father's arms. It was a lovely summer morning, cool and +dewy, fit for any Sunday--whence the eyes and mind of Cosmo turned +to the remnants of night that banded the street, and from them he +sank into metaphysics, chequered with the champing clank of the +bits, the voices of the ostlers, passengers, and guard, and the +perpendicular silence of the coachman, who sat like a statue in +front of him. + +How dark were the shadows the sun was casting! + +Absurd! the sun casts no shadows--only light. + +How so? Were the sun not shining, would there be one single shadow? + +Yes; there would be just one single shadow; all would be shadow. + +There would be none of those things we call shadows. + +True; all would be shade; there would be no shadows. + +By such a little stair was Cosmo landed at a door of deep question. +For now EVIL took the place of SHADOW in his SOLO disputation, and +the law and the light and the shadow and the sin went thinking +about with each other in his mind; and he saw how the Jews came to +attribute evil to the hand of God as well as good, and how St. Paul +said that the law gave life to sin--as by the sun is the shadow. He +saw too that in the spiritual world we need a live sun strong +enough to burn up all the shadows by shining through the things +that cast them, and compelling their transparency--and that sun is +the God who is light, and in whom is no darkness at all--which +truth is the gospel according to St. John. And where there is no +longer anything covered or hid, could sin live at all? These and +such like thoughts held him long--till the noisy streets of the +granite city lay far behind. + +Swiftly the road flew from under the sixteen flashing shoes of the +thorough-breds that bore him along. The light and hope and strength +of the new-born day were stirring, mounting, swelling--even in the +heart of the sad lover; in every HONEST heart more or less, whether +young or old, feeble or strong, the new summer day stirs, and will +stir while the sun has heat enough for men to live on the earth. +Surely the live God is not absent from the symbol of his glory! The +light and the hope are not there without him! When strength wakes +in my heart, shall I be the slave to imagine it comes only as the +sap rises in the stem of the reviving plant, or the mercury in the +tube of the thermometer? that there is no essential life within my +conscious life, no spirit within my spirit? If my origin be not +life, I am the poorest of slaves! + +Cosmo had changed since first he sat behind such horses, on his way +to the university; it was the change of growth, but he felt it like +that of decay--as if he had been young then and was old now. Little +could he yet imagine what age means! Devout youth as he was, he +little understood how much more than he his father felt his +dependence on, that is his strength in God. Many years had yet to +pass ere he should feel the splendour of an existence rooted in +changeless Life ripening through the growing weakness of the body! +It is the strength of God that informs every muscle and arture of +the youth, but it is so much his own--looks so natural to him--as +it well may, being God's idea for him--that, in the glory of its +possession, he does not feel it AS the presence of the making God. +But when weakness begins to show itself,--a shadow-back-ground, +against which the strength is known and outlined--when every +movement begins to demand a distinct effort of the will, and the +earthly house presses, a conscious weight, not upon its own parts +only, but upon the spirit within, then indeed must a man HAVE God, +believe in him with an entireness independent of feeling, and going +beyond all theory, or be devoured by despair. In the growing +feebleness of old age, a man may well come to accept life only +because it is the will of God; but the weakness of such a man is +the matrix of a divine strength, whence a gladness unspeakable +shall ere long be born--the life which it is God's intent to share +with his children. + +Cosmo was on the way to know all this, but now his trouble sat +sometimes heavy upon him. Indeed the young straight back, if it +feels the weight less, feels the irksomeness of the burden more +than the old bowed one. With strength goes the wild love of +movement, and the cross that prevents the free play of a single +muscle is felt grievous as the fetter that chains a man to the oar. +But this day--and what man has to do with yesterday or to-morrow? +--the sun shone as if he knew nothing, or as if he knew all, and +knew it to be well; and Cosmo was going home, and the love of his +father was a deep gladness, even in the presence of love's lack. +Seldom is it so, but between the true father, and true son it +always will be so. + +When he came within a mile of Muir of Warlock, he left the coach, +and would walk the rest of the way. He desired to enjoy, in gentle, +unruffled flow, the thoughts that like swallows kept coming and +going between him and his nest as he approached it. Everything, the +commonest, that met him as he went, had a strange beauty, as if, +although he had known it so long, now first was its innermost +revealed by some polarized light from source unseen. How small and +poor the cottages looked--but how home-like! and how sweet the +smoke of their chimneys! How cold they must be in winter--but how +warm were the hearts inside them! There was Jean Elder's Sunday +linen spread like snow on her gooseberry bushes; there was the +shoemaker's cow eating her hardest, as if she would devour the very +turf that made a border to the road--held from the corn on the +other side of the low fence by a strong chain in the hand of a +child of seven; and there was the first dahlia of the season in +Jonathan Japp's garden! As he entered the village, the road, which +was at once its street and the queen's highway, was empty of life +save for one half--grown pig--"prospecting," a hen or two picking +about, and several cats that lay in the sun. "There must be some +redemption for the feline races," thought Cosmo, "when the cats +have learned so much to love the sun!--But, alas! it is only his +heat, not his light they love!" He looked neither on this side nor +that as he walked, for he was in no mood for the delay of converse, +but he wondered nevertheless that he saw nobody. It was the general +dinner hour, true, but that would scarcely account for the deserted +look of the street! Any passing stranger was usually enough to +bring people to their doors--their windows not being of much use +for looking out of! Sheltered behind rose-trees or geraniums or +hydrangeas, however, not a few of whom he saw nothing were peering +at him out of those windows as he passed. + +The villagers had learned from some one on the coach that the young +laird was coming. But, strange to say, a feeling had got abroad +amongst them to his prejudice. They had looked to hear great things +of their favourite, but he had not made the success they expected, +and from their disappointment they imagined his blame. It troubled +them to think of the old man, whom they all honoured, sending his +son to college on the golden horse, whose history had ever since +been the cherished romance of the place, and after all getting no +good of him! so when they saw him coming along, dusty and +shabby--not so well dressed indeed as would have contented one of +themselves on a Sunday, they drew back from their peep--holes with +a sigh, let him pass, and then looked again. + +Nothing of all this however did Cosmo suspect, but held on his way +unconscious of the regards that pursued him as a prodigal returning +the less satisfactorily that he had not been guilty enough to +repent. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +THE SHADOW OF DEATH. + + +Every step Cosmo took after leaving the village, was like a +revelation and a memory in one. When he turned out of the main +road, the hills came rushing to meet and welcome him, yet it was +only that they stood there changeless, eternally the same, just as +they had been: that was the welcome with which they met the heart +that had always loved them. + +When first he opened his eyes, they were as the nursing arms the +world spread out to take him; and now, returning from the far +countries where they were unknown, they spread them out afresh to +receive him home. The next turn was home itself, for that turn was +at the base of the ridge on which the castle stood. + +The moment he took it, a strange feeling of stillness came over +him, and as he drew nearer, it deepened. When he entered the gate +of the close, it was a sense, and had grown almost appalling. With +sudden inroad his dream returned! Was the place empty utterly? Was +there no life in it? Not yet had he heard a sound; there was no +sign from cow-house or stable. A cart with one wheel stood in the +cart-shed; a harrow lay, spikes upward, where he had hollowed the +mound of snow. The fields themselves had an unwonted, a haggard +sort of look. A crop of oats was ripening in that nearest the +close, but they covered only the half of it: the rest was in +potatoes, and amongst them, sole show of labour or life, he saw +Aggie: she was pulling the PLUMS off their stems. The doors were +shut all round the close--all but the kitchen-door; that stood as +usual wide open. A sickening fear came upon Cosmo: it was more than +a week since he had heard from home! In that time his father might +be dead, and therefore the place be so desolate! He dared not enter +the house. He would go first into the garden, and there pray, and +gather courage. + +He went round the kitchen-tower, as the nearest block was called, +and made for his old seat, the big, smooth stone. Some one was +sitting there, with his head bent forward on his knees! By the red +night-cap it must be his father, but how changed the whole aspect +of the good man! His look was that of a worn-out labourer--one who +has borne the burden and heat of the day, and is already half +asleep, waiting for the night. Motionless as a statue of weariness +he sat; on the ground lay a spade which looked as if it had dropped +from his hand as he sat upon the stone; and beside him on that lay +his Marion's Bible. Cosmo's heart sank within him, and for a moment +he stood motionless. + +But the first movement he made forward, the old man lifted his head +with an expectant look, then rose in haste, and, unable to +straighten himself, hurried, stooping, with short steps, to meet +him. Placing his hands on his son's shoulders, he raised himself +up, and laid his face to his; then for a few moments they were +silent, each in the other's arms. + +The laird drew back his head and looked his son in the face. A +heavenly smile crossed the sadness of his countenance, and his +wrinkled old hand closed tremulous on Cosmo's shoulder. + +"They canna tak frae me my son!" he murmured--and from that time +rarely spoke to him save in the mother-tongue. + +Then he led him to the stone, where there was just room enough for +two that loved each other, and they sat down together. + +The laird put his hand on his son's knee, as, when a boy, Cosmo +used to put his on his father's. + +"Are ye the same, Cosmo?" he asked. "Are ye my ain bairn?" + +"Father," returned Cosmo, "gien it be possible, I loe ye mair nor +ever. I'm come hame to ye, no to lea' ye again sae lang as ye live. +Gien ye be in ony want, I s' better 't gien I can, an' share 't ony +gait. Ay, I may weel say I'm the same, only mair o' 't." + +"The Lord's name be praist!" murmured the laird. "--But du ye loe +HIM the same as ever, Cosmo?" again he asked. + +"Father, I dinna loe him the same--I loe him a heap better. He kens +noo 'at he may tak his wull o' me. Naething' at I ken o' comes +'atween him an' me." + +The old man raised his arm, and put it round his boy's shoulders: +he was not one of the many Scotch fathers who make their children +fear more than love them. + +"Then, Lord, let me die in peace," he said, "for mine eyes hae seen +thy salvation!--But ye dinna luik freely the same, Cosmo!--Hoo is +'t?" + +"I hae come throuw a heap, lately, father," answered Cosmo. "I hae +been ailin' in body, an' sair harassed in hert. I'll tell ye a' +aboot it, whan we hae time--and o' that we'll hae plenty, I s' +warran', for I tell ye I winna lea' ye again; an' gien ye had only +latten me ken ye was failin', I wad hae come hame lang syne. It was +sair agen the grain 'at I baid awa'." + +"The auld sudna lie upo' the tap o' the yoong, Cosmo, my son." + +"Father, I wad willin'ly be a bed to ye to lie upo', gien that wad +ease ye; but I'm thinkin' we baith may lie saft upo' the wull o' +the great Father, e'en whan that's hardest." + +"True as trowth!" returned the laird. "--But ye're luikin' some +tired-like, Cosmo!" + +"I AM some tired, an' unco dry. I wad fain hae a drink o' milk." + +The old man's head dropped again on his bosom, and so for the space +of about a minute he sat. Then he lifted it up, and said, looking +with calm clear eyes in those of his son, + +"I winna greit, Cosmo; I'll say YET, the will o' the Lord be dune, +though it be sair upo' me the noo, whan I haena a drap o' milk +aboot the place to set afore my only-begotten son whan he comes +hame to me frae a far country!--Eh, Lord! whan yer ain son cam hame +frae his sair warstle an' lang sojourn amo' them 'at kenned na him +nor thee, it wasna til an auld shabby man he cam hame, but til the +Lord o' glory an' o' micht! An' whan we a' win hame til the Father +o' a', it'll be to the leevin' stren'th o' the universe.--Cosmo, +the han' o' man's been that heavy upo' me 'at coo efter coo's gane +frae me, an' the last o' them, bonny Yally, left only thestreen. +Ye'll hae to drink cauld watter, my bairn!" + +Again the old man's heart overcame him; his head sank, and he +murmured,--"Lord, I haena a drap o' milk to gie my bairn--me 'at +wad gie 'im my hert's bluid! But, Lord, wha am I to speyk like that +to thee, wha didst lat thine ain poor oot his verra sowl's bluid +for him an' me!" + +"Father," said Cosmo, "I can du wi' watter as weel's onybody. Du ye +think I'm nae mair o' a man nor to care what I pit intil me? Gien +ye be puirer nor ever, I'm prooder nor ever to share wi' ye. Bide +ye here, an' I'll jist rin an' get a drink, an' come back to ye." + +"Na; I maun gang wi' ye, man," answered the laird, rising. +"Grizzie's a heap taen up wi' yer gran'mither. She's been weirin' +awa' this fortnicht back. She's no in pain, the Lord be praised! +an' she'll never ken the straits her hoose is com till! Cosmo, I +hae been a terrible cooard--dreidin' day an' nicht yer hame-comin', +no submittin' 'at ye sud see sic a broken man to the father o' ye! +But noo it's ower, an' here ye are, an' my hert's lichter nor it's +been this mony a lang!" + +Cosmo's own sorrow drew back into the distance from before the face +of his father's, and he felt that the business, not the accident of +his life, must henceforth be to support and comfort him. And with +that it was as if a new well of life sprung up suddenly in his +being. + +"Father," he said, "we'll haud on thegither i' the stret ro'd. +There's room for twa abreist in't--ance ye're in!" + +"Ay! ay!" returned the laird with a smile; "that's the bonniest +word ye cud hae come hame wi' til me! We maun jist perk up a bit, +an' be patient, that patience may hae her perfe't wark. I s' hae +anither try--an' weel I may, for the licht o' my auld e'en is this +day restored til me!" + +"An' sae gran'mother's weirin awa', father!" + +"To the lan' o' the leal, laddie." + +"Wull she ken me?" + +"Na, she winna ken ye; she'll never ken onybody mair i' this warl'; +but she'll ken plenty whaur she's gaein'!" + +He rose, and they walked together towards the kitchen. There was +nobody there, but they heard steps going to and fro in the room +above. The laird made haste, but before he could lay his hand on a +vessel, to get for Cosmo the water he so much desired, Grizzie +appeared on the stair, descending. She hurried down, and across the +floor to Cosmo, and seizing him by the hand, looked him in the face +with the anxiety of an angel-hen. Her look said what his father's +voice had said just before--"Are ye a' there--a' 'at there used to +be?" + +"Hoo's gran'mamma?" asked Cosmo. + +"Ow, duin' weel eneuch, sir--weirin awa' bonny. She has naither +pang nor knowledge o' sorrow to tribble her. The Lord grant the +sowls o' 's a' sic anither lowsin'!" + +"Hae ye naething better nor cauld watter to gie 'im a drink o', +Grizzie, wuman?" asked the laird, but in mere despair. + +"Nae 'cep he wad condescen' til a grainie meal intil 't," returned +Grizzie mournfully, and she looked at him again, with an anxious +deprecating look now, as if before the heir she was ashamed of the +poverty of the house, and dreaded blame."--But laird, "she resumed, +turning to her master, "ye hae surely a drap o' something i' yer +cellar! Weel I wat ye hae made awa' wi' nane o' 't yersel!" + +"Weel, there ye wat wrang, Grizzie, my bonny wuman!" replied the +laird, with the flicker of a humourous smile on his wrinkled face, +"for I sellt the last bottle oot o' 't a month ago to Stronach o' +the distillery. I thought it cudna du muckle ill there, for it +wadna make his nose sae reid as his ain whusky. Whaur, think ye, +wad the sma' things ye wantit for my mother hae come frae, gien I +hadna happent to hae that property left? We're weel taen care o', +ye see, Grizzie! That WAD hae tried my faith, to hae my mother gang +wi'oot things! But he never suffers us to be tried ayont what we're +able to beir; an' sae lang as my faith hauds the grup, I carena for +back nor belly! Cosmo, I can bide better 'at ye sud want. Ye're +mair like my ain nor even my mother, an' sae we bide it thegither. +It maun be 'cause ye're pairt o' my Mar'on as weel 's o' mysel'. +Eh, man! but this o' faimilies is a won'erfu' Godlike contrivance! +Gien he had taen ony ither w'y o' makin' fowk, whaur wad I hae been +this day wantin' you, Cosmo?" + +While he spoke, Cosmo was drinking the water Grizzie had brought +him--with a little meal on the top of it--the same drink he used to +give his old mare, now long departed to the place prepared for her, +when they were out spending the day together. + +"There's this to be said for the watter, father," he remarked, as +he set down the wooden bowl in which Grizzie had thought proper to +supply it, "that it comes mair direc' frae the han' o' God +himsel'--maybe nor even the milk. But I dinna ken; for I doobt +organic chemistry maun efter a' be nearer his han' nor inorganic! +Ony gait, I never drank better drink; an' gien ae day he but +saitisfee my sowl's hunger efter his richteousness as he has this +minute saitisfeed my body's drowth efter watter, I s' be a happier +man nor ever sat still ohn danced an' sung." + +"It's an innocent cratur' at gies thanks for cauld watter--I hae +aye remarkit that!" said Grizzie. "But I maun awa' to my bairn up +the stair; an' may it please the Lord to lift her or lang, for they +maun be luikin for her yont the burn by this time. Whan she wauks +i' the mornin', the' 'ill be nae mair scornin'!" + +This was Grizzie's last against her mistress. The laird took no +notice of it: he knew Grizzie's devotion, and, well as he loved his +mother, could not but know also that there was some ground for her +undevised couplet. + +Scarcely a minute had passed when the voice of the old woman came +from the top of the stair, calling aloud and in perturbation, + +"Laird! laird! come up direc'ly. Come up, lairds baith! She's +comin' til hersel'!" + +They hastened up, Cosmo helping his father, and approached the bed +together. + +With smooth, colourless face, unearthly to look upon, the old lady +lay motionless, her eyes wide open, looking up as if they saw +something beyond the tester of the bed, her lips moving, but +uttering no sound. At last came a murmur, in which Cosmo's ears +alone were keen enough to discern the articulation. + +"Mar'on, Mar'on," she said, "ye're i' the lan' o' forgiveness! I +hae dune the lad no ill. He'll come hame to ye nane the waur for +ony words o' mine. We're no' a' made sae guid to begin wi' as +yersel', Mar'on!" + +Here her voice became a mere murmur, so far as human ears could +distinguish, and presently ceased. A minute or so more and her +breathing grew intermittent. After a few long respirations, at long +intervals, it stopped. + +"She'll be haein' 't oot wi' my ain mistress or lang!" remarked +Grizzie to herself as she closed her eyes. + +"Mother! mother!" cried the laird, and kneeled by the bedside. +Cosmo kneeled also, but no word of the prayers that ascended was +audible. The laird was giving thanks that another was gone home, +and Cosmo was praying for help to be to his father a true son, such +as the Son of Man was to the Father of Man. They rose from their +knees, and went quietly down the stair; and as they went from the +room, they heard Grizzie say to herself, + +"She's gang whaur there's mair--eneuch an' to spare!" + +The remains of Lady Joan's ten pounds was enough to bury her. + +They invited none, but all the village came to her funeral. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +THE LABOURER. + + +Such power had been accumulated and brought to bear against +Glenwarlock, that at length he was reduced almost to the last +extremity. He had had to part with his horses before even his crops +were all sown, and had therefore dismissed his men, and tried to +sell what there was as it stood, and get some neighbouring farmer +to undertake the rest of the land for the one harvest left him; but +those who might otherwise have bought and cultivated were afraid of +offending Lord Lick-my-loof, whose hand was pretty generally seen +in the turn of affairs, and also of involving themselves in an +unsecure agreement. So things had come to a bad pass with the laird +and his household. A small crop of oats and one of potatoes were +coming on, for which the laird did what little he could, assisted +by Grizzie and Aggie at such times when they could leave their +respective charges, but in the meantime the stock of meal was +getting low, and the laird did not see where more was to come from. + +He and Grizzie had only porridge, with a little salt butter, for +two, and not unfrequently the third also of their daily meals. +Grizzie for awhile managed to keep alive a few fowls that picked +about everywhere, finally making of them broth for her invalid, and +persuading the laird to eat the little that was not boiled away, +till at length there was neither cackle nor crow about the place, +so that to Cosmo it seemed dying out into absolute silence--after +which would come the decay and the crumbling, until the castle +stood like the great hollow mammoth-tooth he had looked down upon +in his dream. + +At once he proceeded to do what little could yet be done for the +on-coming crops, resolving to hire himself out for the harvest to +some place later than Glenwarlock, so that he might be able to mow +the oats before leaving, when his father and Grizzie with the help +of Aggie would secure them. + +Nothing could now prevent the closing of the net of the last +mortgage about them; and the uttermost Cosmo could hope for +thereafter was simply to keep his father and Grizzie alive to the +end of their natural days. Shelter was secure, for the castle was +free. The winter was drawing on, but there would be the oats and +the potatoes, with what kail the garden would yield them, and they +had, he thought, plenty of peats. Yet not unfrequently, as he +wandered aimless through the dreary silence, he would be +speculating how long, by a judiciously ordered consumption of the +place, he could keep his father warm. The stables and cow-houses +would afford a large quantity of fuel; the barn too had a great +deal of heavy wood-work about it; and there was the third tower or +block of the castle, for many years used for nothing but stowage, +whose whole thick floors he would thankfully honour, burning them +to ashes in such a cause. In the spring there would be no land left +them, but so long as he could save the house and garden, and find +means of keeping his two alive in them, he would not grieve over +that. + +Agnes was a little shy of Cosmo--he had been away so long! but at +intervals her shyness would yield and she would talk to him with +much the same freedom as of old when they went to school together. +In his rambles Cosmo would not pass her grandfather's cottage +without going in to inquire after him and his wife, and having a +little chat with Aggie. Her true-hearted ways made her, next to his +father and Mr. Simon, the best comforter he had. + +She was now a strong, well-grown, sunburnt woman, with rough hands +and tender eyes. Occasionally she would yet give a sharp merry +answer, but life and its needs and struggles had made her grave, +and in general she would, like a soft cloud, brood a little before +she gave a reply. She had by nature such a well balanced mind, and +had set herself so strenuously to do the right thing, that her +cross seemed already her natural choice, as indeed it always is--of +the deeper nature. In her Cosmo always found what strengthened him +for the life he had now to lead, though, so long as at any hour he +could have his father's company, and saw the old man plainly +reviving in his presence, he could not for a moment call or think +it hard, save in so far as he could not make his father's as easy +as he would. + +When the laird heard that his son, the heir of Glenwarlock, had +hired himself for the harvest on a neighbouring farm, he was dumb +for a season. It was heavy both on the love and the pride of the +father, which in this case were one, to think of his son as a hired +servant--and that of a rough, swearing man, who had made money as a +butcher. The farm too was at such distance that he could not well +come home to sleep! But the season of this dumbness, measured by +the clock, at least, was but of a few minutes duration; for +presently the laird was on his knees thanking God that he had given +him a son who would be an honour to any family out of heaven: in +there, he knew, every one was an honour to every other! + +Before the harvest on the farm of Stanewhuns arrived, Cosmo, to his +desire, had cut their own corn, with Grizzie to gather, Aggie to +bind, and his father to stook, and so got himself into some measure +of training. He found it harder, it is true, at Stanewhuns, where +he must keep up with more experienced scythe-men, but, just equal +to it at first, in two days he was little more than equal, and able +to set his father's heart at ease concerning his toil. + +With all his troubles, it had been a blessed time so long as he +spent most of the day and every evening in his father's company. +Not unfrequently would Mr. Simon make one, seated with them in the +old drawing-room or on some hillside, taking wisest share in every +subject of talk that came up. In the little council Cosmo +represented the rising generation with its new thought, its new +consciousness of need, and its new difficulties; and was delighted +to find how readily his notions were received, how far from strange +they were to his old-fashioned friends, especially his preceptor, +and how greatly true wisdom suffices for the hearing and +understanding of new cries after the truth. For what all men need +is the same--only the look of it changes as its nature expands +before the growing soul or the growing generation, whose hunger and +thirst at the same time grow with it. And, coming from the higher +to the lower, it must be ever in the shape of difficulty that the +most precious revelations first appear. Even Mary, to whom first +the highest revelation came, and came closer than to any other, had +to sit and ponder over the great matter, yea and have the sword +pass through her soul, ere the thoughts of her heart could be +revealed to her. But Cosmo of the new time, found himself at home +with the men of the next older time, because both he and they were +true; for in the truth there is neither old nor new; the well +instructed scribe of the kingdom is familiar with the new as well +as old shapes of it, and can bring either kind from his treasury. +There was not a question Cosmo could start, but Mr. Simon had +something at hand to the point, and plenty more within +digging-scope of his thought-spade. + +But now that he had to work all day, and at night see no one with +whom to take sweet counsel, Cosmo did feel lonely--yet was it an +unfailing comfort to remember that his father was within his reach, +and he would see him the next Sunday. And the one thing he had +dreaded was spared him--namely, having to share a room with several +other men, who might prove worse than undesirable company. For the +ex-butcher, the man who was a byword in the country-side for his +rough speech, in this showed himself capable of becoming a +gentleman, that he had sympathy with a gentleman: he would neither +allow Cosmo to eat with the labourers--to which Cosmo himself had +no objection, nor would hear of his sleeping anywhere but in the +best bedroom they had in the house. Also, from respect to the heir +of a decayed family and valueless inheritance, he modified even his +own habits so far as almost to cease swearing in his presence. +Appreciating this genuine kindness, Cosmo in his turn tried to be +agreeable to those around him, and in their short evenings, for, +being weary, they retired early, would in his talk make such good +use of his superior knowledge as to interest the whole family, so +that afterwards most of them declared it the pleasantest +harvest-time they had ever had. Perhaps it was a consequence that +the youngest daughter, who had been to a boarding-school, and had +never before appeared in any harvest-field, betook herself to that +in which they were at work towards the end of the first week, and +GATHERED behind Cosmo's scythe. But Cosmo was far too much +occupied--thinking to the rhythmic swing of his scythe, to be aware +of the honour done him. Still farther was he from suspecting that +it had anything to do with the appearing of Agnes one afternoon, +bringing him a letter from his father, with which she had armed +herself by telling him she was going thitherward, and could take a +message to the young laird. + +The harvest began upon a Monday, and the week passed without his +once seeing his father. On the Sunday he rose early, and set out +for Castle Warlock. He would have gone the night before, but at the +request of his master remained to witness the signing of his will. +As he walked he found the week had given him such a consciousness +of power as he had never had before: with the labour of his own +hands he knew himself capable of earning bread for more than +himself; while his limbs themselves seemed to know themselves +stronger than hitherto. On the other hand he was conscious in his +gait of the intrusion of the workman's plodding swing upon the easy +walk of the student. + +His way was mostly by footpaths, often up and down hill, now over a +moor, now through a valley by a small stream. The freshness of the +morning he found no less reviving than in the old boyish days, and +sang as he walked, taking huge breaths of the life that lay on the +heathery hill-top. And as he sang the words came--nearly like the +following. He had never wondered at the powers of the +improvvisatore. It was easy to him to extemporize. + + + Win' that blaws the simmer plaid, + Ower the hie hill's shouthers laid, + Green wi' gerse, an' reid wi' heather, + Welcome wi' yer soul-like weather! + + Mony a win' there has been sent + Oot 'aneth the firmament; + Ilka ane its story has; + Ilka ane began an' was; + Ilka ane fell quaiet an' mute + Whan its angel wark was oot. + + First gaed ane oot ower the mirk, + Whan the maker gan to work; + Ower it gaed and ower the sea, + An' the warl' begud to be. + Mony ane has come an' gane + Sin' the time there was but ane: + Ane was great an' strong, an' rent + Rocks an' mountains as it went + Afore the Lord, his trumpeter, + Waukin' up the prophet's ear; + Ane was like a steppin' soun' + I' the mulberry taps abune; + Them the Lord's ain steps did swing, + Walkin' on afore his king; + Ane lay doon like scoldit pup + At his feet an' gatna up, + Whan the word the maister spak + Drave the wull-cat billows back; + Ane gaed frae his lips, an' dang + To the earth the sodger thrang; + Ane comes frae his hert to mine, + Ilka day, to mak it fine. + + Breath o' God, oh! come an' blaw + Frae my hert ilk fog awa'; + Wauk me up, an' mak me strang, + Fill my hert wi' mony a sang, + Frae my lips again to stert, + Fillin' sails o' mony a hert, + Blawin' them ower seas dividin' + To the only place to bide in. + + +"Eh, Mr. Warlock! is that you singin' o' the Sawbath day?" said the +voice of a young woman behind him, in a tone of gentle raillery +rather than expostulation. + +Cosmo turned and saw Elspeth, his master's daughter already +mentioned. + +"Whaur's the wrang o' that, Miss Elsie?" he answered. "Arena we +tellt to sing an' mak melody to the Lord?" + +"Ay, but i' yer hert, no lood oot--'cep' it be i' the kirk. That's +the place to sing upo' Sundays. Yon wasna a psalm-tune ye was at!" + +"Maybe no. Maybe I was a bit ower happy for ony tune i' the +tune-buiks, an' bude to hae ane 'at cam o' 'tsel'!" + +"An' what wad mak ye sae happy--gien a body micht speir?" asked +Elspeth, peeping from under long lashes, with a shy, half +frightened, sidelong glance at the youth. + +She was a handsome girl of the milkmaid type, who wore a bonnet +with pretty ribbons, thought of herself as a young lady, and had +many admirers, whence she had grown a little bold, without knowing +it. + +"Ye haena ower muckle at hame to make ye blithe, gien a' be true," +she added sympathetically. + +"I hae a'thing at hame to make me blithe--'cep' it be a wheen mair +siller," answered Cosmo; "but maybe that'll come neist--wha kens?" + +"Ay! wha kens?" returned the girl with a sigh. "There's mony ane +doobtless wad be ready eneuch wi' the siller anent what ye hae +wantin' 't!" + +"I hae naething but an auld hoose--no sae auld as lat the win' blaw +through't, though," said Cosmo, amused. "But whaur are ye for sae +ear, Miss Elsie?" + +"I'm for the Muir o' Warlock, to see my sister, the schuilmaister's +wife. Puir man! he's been ailin' ever sin' the spring. I little +thoucht I was to hae sic guid company upo' the ro'd! Ye hae made an +unco differ upo' my father, Mr. Warlock. I never saw man sae +altert. In ae single ook!" + +She had heard Cosmo say he much preferred good Scotch to would-be +English, and therefore spoke with what breadth she could compass. +In her head, not-withstanding, she despised everything homely, for +she had been to school in the city, where, if she had learned +nothing else, she had learned the ambition to APPEAR; of BEING +anything she had no notion. She had a loving heart, though--small +for her size, but lively. Of what really goes to make a LADY--the +end of her aspiration--she had no more idea than the swearing +father of whom, while she loved him, as did all his family, she was +not a little ashamed. She was an honest girl too in a manner, and +had by nature a fair share of modesty; but now her heart was sadly +fluttered, for the week that had wrought such a change on her +father, had not been without its effect upon her--witness her +talking VULGAR, BROAD SCOTCH! + +"Your father is very kind to me. So are you all," said Cosmo. "My +father will be grateful to you for being so friendly to me." + +"Some wad be gien they daured!" faltered Elspeth. "Was ye content +wi' my getherin' to ye--to your scythe, I mean, laird?" + +"Wha could hae been ither, Miss Elsie? Try 'at I wad, I couldna +lea' ye ahin' me." + +"Did ye want to lea' me ahin' ye?" rejoined Elsie, with a sidelong +look and a blush, which Cosmo never saw. "I wadna seek a better to +gether til.--But maybe ye dinna like my han's!" + +So far as I can see, the suggestion was entirely irrelevant to the +gathering, for what could it matter to the mower what sort of hands +the woman had who gathered his swath. But then Miss Elspeth had, if +not very pretty, at least very small hands, and smallness was the +only merit she knew of in a hand. + +What Cosmo might have answered, or in what perplexity between truth +and unwillingness to hurt she might have landed him before long, I +need not speculate, seeing all danger was suddenly swept away by a +second voice, addressing Cosmo as unexpectedly as the first. + +They had just passed a great stone on the roadside, at the foot of +which Aggie had been for some time seated, waiting for Cosmo, whom +she expected with the greater confidence that, having come to meet +him the night before, and sat where she now was till it was dark, +she had had to walk back without him. Recognizing the voices that +neared her, she waited until the pair had passed her shelter, and +then addressed Cosmo with a familiarity she had not used since his +return--for which Aggie had her reasons. + +"Cosmo!" she called, rising as she spoke, "winna ye bide for me? Ye +hae a word for twa as weel's for ane. The same sairs whaur baith +hae lugs." + +The moment Cosmo heard her voice, he turned to meet her, glad +enough. + +"Eh, Aggie!" he said, "I'm pleased to see ye. It was richt guid o' +ye to come to meet me! Hoo's your father, an' hoo's mine?" + +"They're baith brawly," she answered, "an' blithe eneuch, baith, at +the thoucht o' seein' ye. Gien ye couldna luik in upo' mine the +day, he wad stap doon to the castle. Sin' yesterday mornin' the +laird, Grizzie tells me, hasna ristit a minute in ae place,'cep' in +his bed. What for camna ye thestreen?" + +As he was answering her question, Aggie cast a keen searching look +at his companion: Elsie's face was as red as fire could have +reddened it, and tears of vexation were gathering in her eyes. She +turned her head away and bit her lip. + +The two girls were hardly acquainted, nor would Elsie have dreamed +of familiarity with the daughter of a poor cotter. Aggie seemed +much farther below her, than she below the young laird of +Glenwarlock. Yet here was the rude girl addressing him as +Cosmo--with the boldness of a sister, in fact! and he taking it as +matter of course, and answering in similar style! It was unnatural! +Indignation grew fierce within her. What might she not have waked +in him before they parted but for this shameless hussey! + +"Ye'll be gaein' to see yer sister, Miss Elsie?" said Agnes, after +a moment's pause. + +Elspeth kept her head turned away, and made her no answer. Aggie +smiled to herself, and reverting to Cosmo, presently set before him +a difficulty she had met with in her algebra, a study which, at +such few times as she could spare, she still prosecuted with the +help of Mr. Simon. So Elsie, who understood nothing of the subject, +was thrown out. She dropped a little behind, and took the role of +the abandoned one. When Cosmo saw this, he stopped, and they waited +for her. When she came up, + +"Are we gaein' ower fest for ye, Miss Elsie?" he said. + +"Not at all;" she answered, English again; "I can walk as fast as +any one." + +Cosmo turned to Aggie and said, + +"Aggie, we're i' the wrang. We had no richt to speik aboot things +'at only twa kent, whan there was three walkin' thegither.--Ye see, +Miss Elsie, her an' me was at the schuil thegither, an' we happent +to tak' up wi' the same kin' o' thing, partic'larly algebra an' +geometry, an' can ill haud oor tongues frae them whan we forgather. +The day, it's been to the prejudice o' oor mainners, an' I beg ye +to owerluik it." + +"I didn't think it was profitable conversation for the Sabbath +day," said Elsie, with a smile meant to be chastened, but which +Aggie took for bitter, and laughed in her sleeve. A few minutes +more and the two were again absorbed, this time with a point in +conic sections, on which Aggie professed to require enlightenment, +and again Elsie was left out. Nor did this occur either through +returning forgetfulness on the part of Aggie; or the naturally +strong undertow of the tide of science in her brain. Once more +Elsie adopted the NEGLECTED role, but being allowed to play it in +reality, dropped farther and farther behind, until its earnest grew +heavy on her soul, and she sat down by the roadside and wept--then +rising in anger, turned back, and took another way to the village. + +Poor girl-heart! How many tears do not fancies doomed to pass cost +those who give them but as it were a night's lodging! And the tears +are bitter enough, although neither the love, nor therefore the +sorrow, may have had time to develop much individuality. One +fairest soap-bubble, one sweetly devised universe vanishes with +those tears; and it may be never another is blown with so many +colours, and such enchanting changes! What is the bubble but air +parted from the air, individualized by thinnest skin of slightly +glutinous water! Does not swift comfort and ready substitution show +first love rather, the passion between man and woman than between a +man and a woman? How speedily is even a Romeo consoled to oblivion +for the loss of a Rosaline by the gain of a Juliet! And yet I mourn +over even such evanishment; mourn although I know that the bubble +of paradise, swift revolving to annihilation, is never a wasted +thing: its influence, its educating power on the human soul, which +must at all risks be freed of its shell and taught to live, remains +in that soul, to be, I trust, in riper worlds, an eternal joy. At +the same time therefore I would not be too sad over such as Elsie, +now seated by a little stream, in a solitary hollow, alone with her +mortification--bathing her red eyes with her soaked handkerchief, +that she might appear without danger of inquisition before the +sister whom marriage had not made more tender, or happiness more +sympathetic. + +But how is it that girls ready to cry more than their eyes out for +what they call love when the case is their own, are so often +hard-hearted when the case is that of another? There is something +here to be looked into--if not by an old surmiser, yet by the young +women themselves! Why are such relentless towards every slightest +relaxation of self restraint, who would themselves dare not a +little upon occasion? Here was Agnes, not otherwise an ill-natured +girl, positively exultant over Elsie's discomfiture and +disappearance! The girl had done her no wrong, and she had had her +desire upon her: she had defeated her, and was triumphant; yet this +was how she talked of her to her own inner ear: "The impident +limmer!--makin' up til a gentleman like oor laird 'at is to be! +Cudna he be doon a meenute but she maun be upon 'im to devoor 'im! +--an' her father naething but the cursin' flesher o' Stanedyhes! +--forby 'at a'body kens she was promised to Jock Rantle, the mason +lad, an wad hae hed him, gien the father o' her hadna sworn at them +that awfu' 'at naither o' them daured gang a fit further! Gien I +had loed a lad like Jock, wad I hae latten him gang for a screed o' +ill words! They micht hae sworn 'at likit for me! I wad ha latten +them sweir! Na, na! Cosmo's for Elsie's betters!" + +Elsie appeared no more in any field that season--staid at Muir o' +Warlock, indeed, till the harvest was over. + +But what a day was that Sunday to Cosmo! Labour is the pursuivant +of joy to prepare the way before him. His father received him like +a king come home with victory. And was he not a king? Did not the +Lord say he was a king, because he came into the world to bear +witness to the truth? + +They walked together to church--and home again as happy as two boys +let out of school--home to their poor dinner of new potatoes and a +little milk, the latter brought by Aggie with her father's +compliments "to his lairdship," as Grizzie gave the message. What! +was I traitor bad enough to call it a poor dinner? Truth and +Scotland forgive me, for I know none so good! And after their +dinner immediately, for there was no toddy now for the laird, they +went to the drawing-room--an altogether pleasant place now in the +summer, and full of the scent of the homely flowers Grizzie +arranged in the old vases on the chimney-piece--and the laird laid +himself down on the brocade-covered sofa, and Cosmo sat close +beside him on a low chair, and talked, and told him this and that, +and read to him, till at last the old man fell asleep, and then +Cosmo, having softly spread a covering upon him, sat brooding over +things sad and pleasant, until he too fell asleep, to be with Joan +in his dreams. + +At length the harvest was over, and Cosmo went home again, and in +poverty-stricken Castle Warlock dwelt the most peaceful, contented +household imaginable. But in it reigned a stillness almost awful. +So great indeed was the silence that Grizzie averred she had to +make much more noise than needful about her affairs that she might +not hear the ghosts. She did not mind them, she said, at night; +they were natural then; but it was UGSOME to hear them in the +daytime! The poorer their fare, the more pains Grizzie took to make +it palatable. The gruel the laird now had always for his supper, +was cooked with love rather than fuel. With what a tender hand she +washed his feet! What miracles of the laundress-art were the old +shirts he wore! Now that he had no other woman to look after him, +she was to him like a mother to a delicate child, in all but the +mother's familiarity. But the cloud was cold to her also; she +seldom rimed now; and except when unusually excited, never returned +a sharp answer. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +THE SCHOOLMASTER. + + +It is time I told my readers something about Joan. But it is not +much I have to tell. Cosmo received from her an answer to his +letter concerning the ring within a week; and this is what she +wrote: + +"MY DEAR COSMO, of course I cannot understand why you went away as +you did. It makes me very unhappy, lest I should be somehow to +blame. But I trust you ENTIRELY. I too hope for the day when it +will be impossible to hide anything. I always find myself when I +wake in the morning, trying to understand why you went away so, and +one reason after another comes, but I have not got the real one +yet--at least I think not. I will pay Dr. Jermyn the money with all +my heart. I cannot pay him just yet, because the same day you left +he was called to London upon medical business, and has not yet +returned. Give my love to your father. I hope you are safe and +happy with him by this time. I wish I were with you! Will that day +ever come again? I cannot tell you how I miss you. It is not +wonderful, if you will only think of it. I hope, dear Cosmo, it was +not my fault that you went away. I know my behaviour was such as to +most people would have seemed very strange, but you are not most +people, and I did and do think you understood it, and made all the +allowance for me that could be made. I had almost forgot to thank +you for the money. I do thank you, Cosmo, but I should have been +much more grateful had you kept it. It is all so stupid--and next +to no use without you or your father! And to know I have such a +large sum in the house that my brother knows nothing about, quite +frightens me sometimes. I wish you had left me the horse to hide it +in. I feel very much like a thief, and I am sure my brother would +think of me as one if he knew. I feel sometimes as if there were an +evil imp in the drawer where it lies. Mind you do not make the +slightest allusion to it in any of your letters, and ask your +father not to do so either. It has just one comfort in it--that I +could now, if driven to it, run away. My love to your father. Your +loving cousin, JOAN." + +Long before this letter arrived, Cosmo had told his father +everything; and he, although he could not believe there was +anything between Joan and the doctor, quite approved of his +conduct. + +"Wait upon the Lord," he said, after listening with the excitement +of a young heart, the ache of an old one, and the hope of a strong +one, to his son's narrative; "wait patiently on him, and he will +give thee thy heart's desire." + +They waited, and patiently. + +What was there now that Cosmo could do to make a little money? With +Mr. Simon he held many an anxious conference on the matter, but +nothing could either think of except the heart-wearing endeavour +after favour with one or other of the magazines--involving an +outlay of much time, a sick deferment of hope, and great +discouragement; for how small were the chances of his work proving +acceptable to this or that man who, with the best intentions for +the SUCCESS of the magazine in his charge, and a keen enough +perception of the unworthy in literature, had most likely no +special love for the truth, or care to teach it, and was besides +under the incapacitating influence, the deadening, debilitating, +stupefying effect of having continually to judge--not to mention +the enervating hopelessness that at length falls, I presume, upon +every editor of a popular magazine, of finding one pearl among the +cartloads of oysters sent him by unknown divers in the gulf of +literature--filling him with amazement that there should be so many +to write so well, and so few to write better. Mr. Simon +nevertheless encouraged Cosmo to make the attempt, seeing that to +one who had nothing else to do, it involved no loss, and would be +certain gain to both head and heart, with just the possibility as +well of a little return in money. So he set to work, and wrote, and +wrote, and sent, and--sent, but heard nothing and nothing. + +The weeks came and went, and the frosts came and went, and then +came and staid: and the snow fell and melted, and then fell and +lay; and winter settled down with moveless rigour upon Castle +Warlock. Nor had it lasted long, before it became evident that the +natural powers of the laird had begun to fail more rapidly. But +sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, and that in the matter +of death as well as of life; if we are not to forestall the +difficulties of living, surely we are not to forestall the sorrows +of dying. There was one thing, however, that did trouble him: the +good old man's appetite had begun to fail, and how was he to get +for him what might tempt him to eat? He was always contented, nor +ever expressed a desire for anything not in the house; but this was +what sent Cosmo on his knees oftenest of all--oftener even than his +own spiritual necessities. + +Never surely did household, even in Scotland, live upon less! Cosmo +had to watch Grizzie to know that she ate at all, and once came +nearly to the conclusion that she ate only dry meal. + +He would have had his father take his grandmother's room now she +was gone, but he would not leave the one he had last occupied with +his wife. From that he would go, he said, as she had gone. So Cosmo +took his grandmother's, and there wrote and read--and when his +father could not, in the very cold weather, leave his bed, was +within the call of the slightest knock upon his floor. But every +now and then, when the cold would abate a little, the laird would +revive, and hope grow strong in the mind of his son: his father was +by no means an old man yet, he would persuade himself, and might be +intended to live many years; and thereupon he would set to work +with fresh vigour. But it is hard to labour without encouragement, +or apparent prospect of result. + +Many a time did the Gracies go without milk that they might send +for the laird the little their cow gave; but, though Cosmo never +refused their kindness, as indeed he had no right, it went to his +heart that the two old people should go without what was as needful +for them as for his father. Mr. Simon too would every now and then +send something from his house or from the village--oftener than +Cosmo knew, for he had taken Grizzie into his confidence, and she +was discreet. But now at length fell a heavenly crumb to keep the +human sparrows picking. + +The schoolmaster at the Muir, he who had behaved so insolently to +the Warlocks, father and son, had returned to his duties at the end +of the HAIRST-PLAY, but had been getting worse for some time, and +was at length unable to go on. He must therefore provide a +substitute, and Cosmo heard that he was on the outlook for one. + +Now Cosmo knew that, if he had desired to be made +parish-schoolmaster, the influence of Lord Lick-my-loof would have +been too strong against him, but it seemed possible that his old +master might have so far forgotten by-gones as to be willing to +employ him. He went to him therefore the same hour, and being shown +into the room where he sat wrapt in blankets, laid before him his +petition. + +Now the schoolmaster, although both worldly in his judgment, and +hasty in his temper, was not a heartless man. Keen feelings are not +always dissociated from brutality even. One thing will reach the +heart that another will not; and much that looks like +heartlessness, may be mainly stupidity. He had never ceased, after +the first rush of passion, to regret he had used the word that +incensed the boy; and although he had never to his own heart +confessed himself wrong in knocking down the violator of the +sacredness of the master's person, yet, unconsciously to himself, +he had for that been sorry also. Had he been sorrier, his pride +would yet have come between him and confession. When the boy, then, +on whom for years he had not set his eyes, stood unexpectedly +before him, a fine youth, down in the world, and come, as he +anticipated the moment he saw him, to beg a favour--behold an +opportunity, not only of making reparation without confession, but +of induing the dignity of forgiveness! He received Cosmo, +therefore, with the stiffness of a condescending inferior, it is +true, but with kindness notwithstanding, and, having heard his +request, accorded immediately a gracious assent, which so filled +Cosmo with gratitude that he could not help showing some emotion, +whereupon the heart of the schoolmaster in its turn asserted +itself; and from that moment friendly relations were established +between them. + +Things were soon arranged. Cosmo was to be paid by the week, and +should commence his work the next morning. He returned therefore in +great consolation, carrying with him for his father one or two +simple luxuries the village afforded. That night he hardly could +sleep for joy. + +He set about his new duties with zeal. Teaching itself is far from +easy work to anyone anxious to make it genuine; and Cosmo had +besides to leave home early in all kinds of wintry weather, and +walk to it through the bitterness of BLACK FROST, the shifting toil +of deep snow, or the assault of fierce storm. But he thought +nothing of the labour or its accessories of discomfort; the only +thing he felt hard was having to leave his father all the +winter-day alone, for it was generally five o'clock before he got +back to him. + +And now in the heart of the laird arose a fresh gratitude for the +son God had given him. His hours passed mainly in devotion and +anticipation. Every time he received his son from the arms of the +winter to his own, it was like the welcoming of one lost and found +again. + +Into the stern weather of their need had stolen a summer-day to +keep hope alive. Cosmo gave up his writing, and spent all the time +he had at home in waiting with mind and body upon his father. He +read to him--sometimes his own poetry,--and that his father liked +best of all, because therein he came nearer to his boy; now and +then, when he was too weary for thought, he would play backgammon +with him; and sometimes, when he was himself more tired than usual, +would get Grizzie to come and tell yet again the stories she used +to tell him when he was a child--some of which his father enjoyed +the more that he remembered having heard them when he was himself a +child. Upon one of these occasions, Grizzie brought from her +treasury a tale which the laird remembered his grandmother's saying +she too had heard when she was a child, and therewith it came into +Cosmo's head to write it out, as nearly as he could, in Grizzie's +words, and try a magazine with it. For the first time he received +an answer--the most agreeable part of which was a small cheque, and +the next most agreeable the request that he would send another +paper of like character. Grizzie's face, when she learned in what +way, and how largely, as it seemed to her, she had commenced +contributing to the income of the family, was a sight worth a good +deal more than a good dinner to both father and son. At first she +imagined Cosmo was making game of her, and stood upon the dignity +of her legends; but convinced at length of the fact of the case, +she stared into nowhere for a minute, and then said, + +"Eh, sirs! Oot o' the moo' o' babes an' sucklin's! The Lord be +praist, whan herts is raist!" + +"Amen, Grizzie!" responded the laird. "Eh, wuman? gien ever ane +wana place in a faimily, her ain by foreordeenment o' the fatherly +providence 'at luiks efter the faimilies o' men, Grizzie, ye're +that wuman!" + +Word to please Grizzie better the laird could not have found. It +sunk in and in, for her pleasure could make no show, there being no +room for any growth in the devotion of her ministrations. + +And now Cosmo would take no more of the Gracies' milk, but got +Aggie to go every day to a farm near, and buy what was required for +his father, and Aggie was regular as the clock, sunshine or storm. + +But there was another thing in which she was not quite so regular, +but which yet she never missed when she could help it; so that, as +often as three and occasionally four times in the week, Cosmo would +find her waiting for him somewhere on his way home, now just +outside the village, now nearer Glenwarlock, according to the hour +when she had got through her work. The village talked, and Aggie +knew it, but did not heed it; for she had now in her own feeling +recovered her former position towards him; and it was one of the +comforts of Cosmo's labour, when the dulness or contrariety of the +human animal began to be too much for him, to think of the talk +with Agnes he might hope was waiting him. Under Mr. Simon she had +made much progress, and was now a companion fit for any thinking +man. The road home was not half the length to Cosmo when Agnes +walked it too. Thinking inside, and labouring outside, she was, in +virtue of the necessities of her life, such a woman as not the most +vaunted means of education, without the weight and seeming +hindrances of struggle, can produce. One of the immortal women she +was--for she had set out to grow forevermore--for whom none can +predict an adequate future, save him who knows what he is making of +her. + +Her behaviour to Cosmo was that of a half sister, who, born in a +humbler position, from which she could not rise, was none the less +his sister, and none the less loved him. Whether she had anything +to struggle with in order to keep this position, I am not prepared +to say; but I have a suspicion that the behaviour of Elspeth, which +so roused her scorn, had something to do with the restoring of the +old relation between them. The most jealous of REASONABLE mothers +could hardly have complained of her behaviour in Cosmo's company, +however much she might have disapproved of her seeking it as she +did. But it is well that God, and not even reasonable mothers, has +the ordering of those things in which they consider themselves most +interested, and are not unfrequently intrusive. Next to his father +and Mr. Simon, Agnes Gracie was the most valued of Cosmo's friends. +Mr. Burns came next. For Lady Joan, he never thought of her by the +side of anybody else. If he had not learned to love her, I think he +might now very well have loved Agnes. And if Cosmo had asked her +now, when marriage was impossible, to marry him when he could +marry, I do not know what Agnes might have answered. But he did +not, and they remained the best of trusting friends. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +GRANNIE AND THE STICK. + + +This winter, the wind that drops the ripened fruit not plucked +before, blew hard upon old Grannie, who had now passed her +hundredth year. For some time Agnes had not been able to do much +for her, but another great-grandchild, herself a widow and a +mother, was spending the winter with her. On his way to or from +school, Cosmo every day looked in to see or enquire after her; and +when he heard she had had a bad night he would always think how +with her would fail the earthly knowledge of not a little of the +past of his family, and upon one of these occasions resolved that +he would at least find out whether she remembered the bamboo he had +brought from Cairncarque. + +Calling when school was over, he heard she was a little better, and +the next morning brought with him the cane. In the afternoon he +learned that she had had a better night, and going in found her in +her chair by the fireside, and took his place by her so that the +light from the window at her back should fall upon the stick. + +He had not sat more than a minute, when he saw her eyes fixed upon +the horse. + +"What's that ye hae there, Cosmo?" she said. + +"This?" returned Cosmo. "It's a cane I pickit up upo' my traivels. +What think ye o' 't?" + +He held it out to her, but she did not move her hand towards it. + +"Whaur got ye't?" she asked, her eyes growing larger as she looked. + +"What gars ye speir, grannie?" he returned, with assumed +indifference. + +"I dinna believe there was anither like the ane that's like," she +replied. + +"In which case," rejoined Cosmo, "it maun be the same. Ken ye +onything aboot it?" + +"Ay; an' sae du ye, or ye hae less sense nor I wad hae mintit o' a +Warlock. That stick's no a stick like ither sticks, an' I wuss I +was nearer hame." + +"Ye dinna mean, grannie, there's onything no canny aboot the +stick?" said Cosmo. + +"I wadna like to think him near me 'at aucht it." she replied. + +"Wha auchit it, grannie?" + +"Rive't a' to bits, laddie; there's something by ordnar aboot it. +The auld captain made o' 't as gien it had been his graven image. +That was his stick ye hae i' yer han', whaurever ye got it; an' it +was seldom oot o' his frae mornin' till nicht. Some wad hae't hetuik +it til's bed wi' him. I kenna aboot that; but gien by ony +accident he set it oot frae 'atween his knees, it was never oot o' +the sicht o' his e'en. I hae seen him mysel', missin' 't like, luik +up o' a suddent as gien his sowl hed been requiret o' 'im, an' grip +at it as gien it hed been his proadigal son come hame oonexpeckit." + +Cosmo told her where he had found it. + +"I tellt ye sae!" she cried. "The murderin' villian cairriet it wi' +him, weel kennin what was intil 't!" + +Cosmo showed her the joints and their boxes, telling her he had +searched them all, but had found nothing. She shook her head. + +"Ower late! ower late!" she murmured. "The rievin' English lord was +aforehan' wi' the heir!" + +She seemed then to fall into a kind of lethargic musing, and as +Cosmo had not yet made up his mind to show her the paper he had +found in the top of the cane, and ask her opinion concerning it, +for the present he bade her good-night--little thinking he was not +to see her again in this world. For that same night she died. + +And now when his opportunity was over, and he could learn no more +from her, the mind of Cosmo was exercised afresh concerning the +bamboo. According to Grannie, its owner habitually showed anxiety +for its safety, and had it continually under his eye. It did not +seem likely that the rings had been in it long when it was taken +from him, neither that at any time he would have chosen to carry +like valuables about with him in such a receptacle. It could hardly +therefore be because of those or of similar precious things +concealed in it, that he was always so watchful over it. It was +possible, indeed, that from often using it for temporary +concealment, he had come to regard it with constant anxiety; but +the conjecture did not satisfy Cosmo. And as often as he turned the +thing over in his mind, his speculation invariably settled on the +unintelligible paper. It was true the said paper had seemed not so +much there for its own safety, as by chance employment for the +protection of the jewels round which it was, after all, rather +squeezed than folded; but a man may crumple up his notes and thrust +them in his pocket, yet care more for them than for anything else +in the same place. + +Thinking of the thing one night after he was in bed, it occurred to +him suddenly to ask himself what he had done with the paper, for he +could not remember when he had last seen it. He got up, took the +stick, which being Joan's gift he always carried to his room, and +opening the horse, which he could now do without his eyes, found it +empty. This made him uneasy, and he lay down again to think what he +could have done with it. It was dark night, and his anxiety was not +so great but that sleep presented its claim upon him. He resisted +it however, unwilling to yield until he had at least thought of +some probability with regard to the paper. But, like a soundless +tide, sleep kept creeping upon him, and he kept starting from it +with successive spur-pricks of the will which had not yet consented +to the nightly annihilation. Bethinking himself in one of these +revivals that he might have put it in his pocket-book, he stretched +his hand to the chair beside the bed on which lay his clothes. Then +came a gap in his consciousness, and the next thing he knew was the +pocket-book in his hand, with the memory or the dream, he could not +afterwards tell which, of having searched it in vain. + +He now felt so anxious that he could rest no longer, but must get +up and look for the paper until he found it. He rose and lighted +his candle, went down the stair to the kitchen, and out of the +house--then began to doubt whether he was awake, but, like one +compelled, went on to the great door, and up to the drawing-room, +when first he became aware that the moon was shining, and all at +once remembered a former dream, and knew it was coming to him +again: there it was!--the old captain, seated in his chair, with +the moon on his face, and a ghastly look! He felt his hair about to +stand on end with terror, but resisted with all his might. The +rugged, scarred countenance gazed fixedly at him, and he did his +best to return the gaze. The appearance rose, and walked from the +room, and Cosmo knew he had to follow it to the room above, which +he had not once entered since his return. There, as before, it went +to the other side of the bed, and disappeared. But this time the +dream went a little farther. Despite his fear, Cosmo followed, and +in the wall, by the head of the bed, saw an open door. He hurried +up to it, but seemed to strike against the wall, and woke. He was +in bed, but his heart was beating a terribly quick march. His +pocket-book was in his hand: he struck a light, and searching in +it, found the missing paper. + +The next night, he told his dream to his father and Mr Simon, and +they had a talk about dreams and apparitions; then all three pored +over the paper, but far from arriving at any conclusion, seemed +hardly to get a glimpse of anything that could be called light upon +its meaning. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +OBSTRUCTION. + + +All this time Cosmo had never written again to Joan; both his +father and he thought it better the former only should for the +present keep up the correspondence. But months had passed without +their hearing from her. The laird had written the third time, and +received no answer. + +The day was now close upon them when the last of their land would +be taken, leaving them nothing but the kitchen-garden--a piece of +ground of about half an acre, the little terraced flower-garden to +the south of the castle, and the croft tenanted by James Gracie. +They applied to Lord Lick-my-loof to grant them a lease of the one +field next the castle, which the laird with the help of the two +women had cultivated the spring before, but he would not--his +resentment being as strong as ever, and his design deeper than they +saw. + +The formal proceedings took their legal course; and upon and after +a certain day Lord Lick-my-loof might have been seen from not a few +of the windows of the castle, walking the fields to the north and +east, and giving orders to his bailiff concerning them. Within a +fortnight those to the north were no more to be entered from the +precincts of the castle except by climbing over a DRY-STANE DYKE; +and before many additional days were gone by, they found him more +determined than they could have imagined, to give them annoyance. + +He had procured a copy of an old plan of the property, and therein +discovered, as he had expected and hoped, that that part of the +road from the glen of the Warlock which passed the gate of the +castle, had been made by the present laird only about thirty years +before; whereupon--whether he was within his legal rights or not, I +do not know, but everybody knew the laird could not go to law--he +gave orders that it should be broken up from the old point of +departure, and a dry dyke built across the gate. But the persons to +whom the job was committed, either ashamed or afraid, took +advantage of an evening on which Cosmo had a class for +farm-labourers, to do the work after dark; whence it came that, +plodding homewards without a suspicion, he found himself as he +approached the gate all at once floundering among stones and broken +ground, and presently brought up standing, a man built out from his +own house by a mushroom wall--the entrance gone which seemed to him +as old as the hills around it, for it was older than his earthly +life. With a great shove he hurled half the height of it over, and +walking in, appeared before his father in such a rage as bewildered +and troubled him far more than any insolence of Lord Lick-my-loof +could have done. + +"The scoundrel!" cried Cosmo; "I should like to give him a good +drubbing--only he's an old man! But I'll make him repent it--and +heartily, too!" + +"Cosmo, my boy," said the old man, "you are meddling with what does +not belong to you." + +"I know it's your business, father, not mine; but--" + +"It's no more my business than yours, my son!'VENGEANCE IS MINE, +SAITH THE LORD.'--An' the best o' 't is," he went on, willing, by a +touch of humour in the truth he had to speak, to help turn the tide +of Cosmo's wrath, "he'll tak' no more than's guid for the sinner; +whereas yersel', Cosmo, i' the tune ye're in noo, wad damn puir +auld Lick-my-loof for ever and ever! Man, he canna hurt me to the +worth o' sic a heap o' firin'!" Then changing his tone to absolute +seriousness, "Min' ye tu, Cosmo," he went on, "'at the maister never +threatent but aye left the thing, whatever it was, to him 'at +judges richteously. Ye want nothing but fair play, my son, an' +whether ye get it frae Lick-my-loof or no, there's ane winna haud +it frae ye. Ye 's get it, my son; ye 's get it! The maister 'll hae +a' thing set richt at the lang last; an' gien HE binna in a hurry, +we may weel bide. For mysel', the man has smitten me upo' the tae +cheek, an' may hae the tither to lat drive at whan he likes. It's +no worth liftin' my auld airm to haud aff the smack." + +He laughed, and Cosmo laughed too--but grimly and out of tune. Then +the laird told him that just that piece of the road was an +improvement of his own, and had cost him a good bit of blasting: it +used to cross the stream twice before it got to the yard-gate. He +hardly thought, he said, that his lordship would like to have to +restore it; for, besides the expense, it would cost him so much out +of one of his best fields. In the meantime they must contrive how +to connect themselves with that part of the road which he dared not +touch. The worst of it was that there was no longer any direct +communication across the fields with James Gracie's cottage. To +follow the road was to make a tremendous round. + +Grizzie being already in bed when Cosmo came home, learned nothing +that night of the evil news. + +At break of day Cosmo was up to see what could be done, and found +that a few steps cut in the rocky terraces of the garden would +bring one with ease to the road. He set about it immediately, and +before breakfast-time had finished the job. + +The rage and indignation of Grizzie when she learned what had been +done, far surpassed Cosmo's, and served to secure him from any +return of the attack. The flood of poetic abuse that she poured out +seemed inexhaustible, sweeping along with it tale after tale to the +prejudice of "that leein' Lick-my-loof." But, poetic as was her +speech, not a single rime did she utter for the space of an hour +during which she thus unloaded her heart. + +"Ay!" she concluded, and thereafter sank into smouldering silence, +"there was a futpath there afore ye was born, laird, blast or no +blast; an' to that I can fess them 'at can beir testimony, ane o' +them bein' nane ither nor Jeames Gracie himsel', wha's ten lang +years aheid o' yer lairdship! an' lat me see man or dog 'at 'll +haud me ohn taen my wull o' my richts intil't! They canna hang me, +and for less I carena." + +The schoolmaster was at length fit to resume his labours, and about +a week after the event just recorded, Cosmo ceased to attend the +school in his stead. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +GRIZZIE'S RIGHTS. + + +In those days Mistress Gracie fell sick, and though for a while +neither husband nor grand-daughter thought seriously of her +ailment, it proved more than her age, worn with labour, could +endure, and she began to sink. Then Grizzie must go and help nurse +her, for, Cosmo being at home all day long, the laird could well +enough spare her. + +Father and son were now seldom out of each other's sight. When +Cosmo was writing, the laird would be reading in the same room; and +when, after their dinner, the laird slept, Cosmo would generally +read his New-testament beside him, and as often as he woke fresh +from his nap, the two would talk about what the one had been +reading, and Cosmo would impart what fresh light the Greek had +given him. The capacity of the old man for taking in what was new, +was wonderful, and yet not to be wondered at, seeing it was the +natural result of the constant practice of what he learned--for all +truth understood becomes duty. To him that obeys well, the truth +comes easy; to him who does not obey, it comes not, or comes in +forms of fear and dismay. The true, that is the obedient man, +cannot help seeing the truth, for it is the very business of his +being--the natural concern, the correlate of his soul. The religion +of these two was obedience and prayer; their theories only the +print of their spiritual feet as they walked homeward. + +The road which Lord Lick-my-loof had broken up, went nearly +straight from Castle Warlock to the cottage of the Gracies, where +it joined the road that passed his lodge. And now came Grizzie's +call to action! The moment she found her services required for +Mistress Gracie, she climbed the gate of the close, from the top of +it stepped upon the new wall, thence let herself down on the +disfeatured road, and set out to follow its track, turn for turn, +through the ploughed land. In the evening she came back the same +way, scrambled over the wall and the gate, and said never a word, +nor was asked a question. To visit his tenants the laird himself +went a mile about, but most likely he was not prepared to strain +his authority with Grizzie, and therefore was as one who knew +nothing. + +Before the week was out, her steps, and hers alone, had worn a +visible and very practicable footpath across the enemy's field; and +whether Lord Lick-my-loof was from home, or that he willed the +trespass to assume its most defined form and yield personal +detection ere he moved in the matter, the week went by without +notice taken. + +On the Sunday morning however, as Grizzie was on her way to the +cottage, she suddenly spied, over the edge of a hollow through +which her path ran, the head of Lord Lick-my-loof: he was following +the track she had made, and would presently meet her. Wide spread +her nostrils, like those of the war-horse, for she too smelt the +battle from afar. + +"Here's auld Belzebub at last!'gaein to an' fro i' the earth, an' +walkin' up an' doon intil 't!" she said to herself. "Noo's for me +to priv the trowth 'o Scriptur! Whether he'll flee or no, we'll +see: I s' resist him. It's no me 'at'll rin, ony gait!" + +His lordship had been standing by his lodge on the outlook, and +when he saw Grizzie approaching, had started to encounter her. As +she drew near he stopped, and stood in the path motionless. On she +came till within a single pace of him. He did not move. She +stopped. + +"I doobt, my lord," she said, "I'll hae to mak the ro'd a bit +wider. There's hardly room for yer lordship an' anither. But I'm +gettin' on fine!" + +"Is the woman an idiot!" exclaimed his lordship. + +"Muckle siclike 's yersel', my lord!" answered Grizzie;--"no that +muckle wit but I might hae mair, to guide my steps throuw the +wilderness ye wad mak o' no an ill warl'." + +"Are you aware, woman, that you have made yourself liable to a +heavy fine for trespass? This field is mine!" + +"An' this fitpath's mine, my lord--made wi' my ain feet, an' I +coonsel ye to stan' aside, an' lat me by." + +"Woman, you are insolent." + +"Troth, I needna yer lordship to tell me that! Nane the less ae +auld wife may say 'at she likes til anither." + +"I tell you there is no thoroughfare here." + +"An' I tell you there IS a thoroughfare, an' ye hae but to wull the +trowth to ken 'at there is. There was a ro'd here lang or yer +lordship's father was merried upo' yer lordship's mither, an' the +law--what o' 't yer lordship hasna the makin' o'--is deid agen ye: +that I can priv. Hae me up: I can tak my aith as weel's onybody +whan I'm sure." + +"I will do so; but in the meantime you must get off my property." + +"Weel, stan' by, an' I s' be aff o' 't in less time nor yer +lordship." + +"You must go back." + +"Hooly an' fairly! Bide till the gloamin', an' I s' gang +back--never fear. I' the mids o' the meantime I'm gaein' aff o' yer +property the nearest gait--an' that's straucht efter my nose." + +She tried, for the tenth time or so, to pass, but turn as she +might, he confronted her. She persevered. He raised the stick he +carried, perhaps involuntarily, perhaps thinking to intimidate her. +Then was the air rent with such an outcry of assault as grievously +shook the nerves of his lordship. + +"Hold your tongue, you howling jade!" he cried--and the epithet +sufficed to destroy every possible remnant of forbearance in the +mind of Grizzie. + +"There's them 'at tells me, my lord," she said with sudden calm, +"'at that's hoo ye misca'd Annie Fyfe, puir lass, whan she cam efter +ye, fifty year ago, to yer father's hoose, an' gat na a plack to +haud her an' her bairn frae the roadside! Ye needna girn like that, +my lord! Spare yer auld teeth for the gnashin' they'll HAE to du. +--Though ye fear na God nor regaird man, yer hoor 'll come, an' yer +no like to bid it walcome." + +Beside himself with rage, Lord Lick-my-loof would have laid hold of +her, but she uttered a louder cry than before--so loud that James +Grade's deaf colley heard her, and, having a great sense of +justice, more courage than teeth, and as little regard to the law +of trespass as Grizzie herself, came, not bounding, but tearing +over the land to her rescue, as if a fox were at one of his sheep. +He made straight for his lordship. + +Now this dog was one of the chief offences of the cottage, for he +had the moral instinct to know and hate a bad man, and could not +abide Lord Lick-my-loof. He had never attacked him, for the colley +cultivated self-restraint, but he had made his lordship aware that +there was no friendship in his heart towards him. + +Silent almost as swift, he was nearly on the enemy before either he +or Grizzie saw him. His lordship staggered from the path, and +raised his stick with trembling hand. + +"Boon wi' ye! doon, Covenant! doon, ye tyke!" cried Grizzie. "Haud +yer teeth gien ye wad keep the feow ye hae! Deil a bite but banes +is there i' the breeks o' 'im!" + +The dog had obeyed, and now stood worshipping her with his tail, +while with his eyes he watched the enemy and his stick. + +"Hark ye, Covenant," she went on, "whan his sowl he selled him, the +deevil telled him,'at never mair sud he turn a hair at cry or +moanin' in highway or loanin', for greitin' or sweirin' or grane o' +despair. Haud frae him, Covenant, my fine fallow, haud frae him." + +Grizzie talked to the dog nor lifted her eyes. When she looked up, +Lord Lick-my-loof was beyond the hollow, hurrying as if to fetch +help. In a few minutes she was safe in the cottage, out of breath, +but in high spirits; and even the dying woman laughed at her tale +of how she had served his lordship. + +"But ye ken, Grizzie," suggested Jeames, "we're no to return evil +for evil, nor flytin' for flytin'!" + +"Ca' ye that flytin'?" cried Grizzie. "Ye sud hear what I didna +say! That was flytin'! We'll be tried by what we can do, no by what +we canna! An' for returnin' evil, did I no haud the dog frae the +deithshanks o' 'im?" + +The laird and Cosmo had spent as usual a quiet and happy Sunday. It +was now halfway down the gloamin' towards night, and they sat +together in the drawing-room, the laird on the sofa, and Cosmo at +one of the windows. The sky was a cold clear calm of thin blue and +translucent green, with a certain stillness which in my mind will +more or less for ever be associated with a Scotch Sunday. A long +low cloud of dark purple hung like a baldachin over the yet +glimmering coals on the altar of sunset, and the sky above it was +like a pale molten mass of jewels that had run together with heat, +and was still too bright for the stars to show. They were both +looking out at the sky, and a peace as of the unbeginnings of +eternity was sinking into their hearts. The laird's thoughts were +with his Marion in the region beyond the dream; Cosmo's with Joan +in the dream that had vanished into itself. If love be religion, +what matter whether its object be in heaven or on the earth! Love +itself is the only true nearness. He who thinks of his Saviour as +far away can have made little progress in the need of him; and he +who does not need much cannot know much, any more than he who is +not forgiven much can love much. They sat silent, their souls +belonging rather to the heaven over their heads than the earth +under their feet, when suddenly the world of stillness was invaded +with hideous discord, above which almost immediately rose the well +known voice of Grizzie in fierce opposition. They rushed out. Overthe +gate and obstructing wall they descried, indistinct in the dull +light, several heads, and hurrying thither, found Grizzie in the +grasp of Lord Lick-my-loof's bailiff, and his lordship looking on +with his hands in his pockets and the smile that was his own. But +it was not for her own sake Grizzie cried out: there were two more +in the group--two of the dog-kind, worrying each other with all the +fierceness of the devotion which renders a master's quarrel more +than the dog's own. They were, however, far from equally matched, +and that was the cause of Grizzie's cry; for the one was the +somewhat ancient colley named Covenant, whose teeth were not what +they had been, and the other a mastiff belonging to Lord +Lick-my-loof, young and malevolent, loosed from the chain the first +time that night for a month. It looked ill for Covenant, but he was +a brave dog, incapable of turning his back on death itself when +duty called him, and what more is required of dog or man! Both the +dogs were well bred each in its kind; Covenant was the more human, +Dander the more devilish; and the battle was fierce. + +The moment Cosmo descried who the combatants were, he knew that +Covenant had no fair chance, and was over the wall, and had thrown +himself upon them to part them; whereupon the bailiff, knowing his +master desired the death of Covenant, let Grizzie go, and would +have rushed upon Cosmo. But it was Grizzie's turn now, and she +clung to the bailiff like an anaconda. He cursed and swore; nor +were there lacking on Grizzie's body the next day certain bruises +of which she said nothing except to Aggie; but she had got hold of +his cravat, and did her best to throttle him. Cosmo did the same +for the mastiff with less effect, and had to stun him with a blow +on the head from a great stone, when he caught up Covenant in his +arms, and handed him over the wall and the gate to his father. The +same moment the bailiff got away from Grizzie, and made at him, +calling to the mastiff. But the dog, only half recovered from the +effects of Cosmo's blow, either mistaking through bewilderment, or +moved by some influence ill explicable, instead of attacking Cosmo, +rushed at his master. Rage recalls dislike, and it may be he +remembered bygone irritations and teasings. His lordship, however, +suddenly became aware of his treacherous intent, and in a moment +his legs had SAVED THEMSELVES over wall, and gate, and he stood +panting and shaking beside the laird, in his turn the trespasser. +The dog would have been over after him, had not Cosmo, turning his +back on the bailiff, who had not observed his master's danger, +knocked the dog, in the act of leaping, once more to the earth, +when a rush of stones that came with him, and partly fell upon him, +had its share in cowing him. + +"Haud him! haud him! haud the deevil, ye brute! Haud the brute, ye +deevil!" cried his lordship. + +"It's yer ain dog, my lord," said the bailiff, whatever consolation +there might be in the assurance, as he took him by the collar. + +"Am I to be worriet 'cause the dog's my ain? Haud him the sickerer. +He s' be ayont mischeef the morn!" + +"He's the true dog 'at sides wi' the richt; he'll be in bliss afore +his maister," said Grizzie, as she descended from the gate, and +stood on her own side of the fence. + +But the laird was welcoming his lordship with the heartiness of one +receiving an unexpected favour in the visit. + +"Weel loupen, my lord!" he said. "Come in an' rist yersel' a bit, +an' I s' tak ye back on to yer ain property an easier gait nor ower +a dry stane-dyke." + +"Gien it BE my property," returned his lordship, "I wad be obleeged +to ye, laird, to haud yer fowk aff o' 't!" + +"Grizzie, wuman," said the laird, turning to her, "ye dinna surely +want to bring me to disgrace! The lan' 's his lordship's--bought +and paid for, an' I hae no more richt ower 't nor Jeames Gracie's +colley here, puir beast!" + +"Ye may be richt aboot the lan', laird, the mair's the pity!" +answered Grizzie; "but the futpath, beggin' the pardon o' baith +lairdship and lordship, belangs to me as muckle as to aither o' ye. +Here I stan', alane for mysel'! That ro'd 's my neebor, an' I'm +bun' to see til 't, for it wad be a sair vex to mony a puir body +like mysel' to louse the richt til 't." + +"You'll have to prove what you say, woman," said his lordship. + +"Surely, Grizzie," expostulated the laird, "his lordship maun +un'erstan' affairs o' this natur', as well 's you or me!" + +"As to the un'erstan'in' o' them, laird, I mak nae doobt," returned +Grizzie; "an' as little 'at he's o' the wrang side o' the wa' this +time." + +"Na, Grizzie--for he's upo' MY side o' 't, an' walcome." + +"He's jist as walcome, naither mair nor less, to the path I made +wi' my ain feet throuw the rouchest pleughed lan' I ever crossed." + +Therewith Grizzie, who hated compromise, turned away, and went into +the kitchen. + +"Come this way, my lord," said the laird. + +"Take the dog home," said his lordship to the bailiff. "Have him +shot the first thing to-morrow-morning. If it weren't the Sabbath, +I'd have it done to-night." + +"He's good watch, my lord," interceded the man. + +"He may be a good watch, but he's a bad dog," replied his lordship. +"I'll have neither man nor dog about me that doesn't know his +master. You may poison him if you prefer it." + +"Come awa', come awa', my lord!" said the laird. "This, as ye hae +said,'s the Sabbath-nicht, an' the thoucht o' 't sud mak us +mercifu'. I hae naething to offer ye but a cheir to rist ye in, an +syne we'll tak the ro'd like neebors thegither an' I'll shaw ye the +w'y hame." + +His lordship yielded, for his poor thin legs were yet trembling +with the successful effort they had made under the inspiration of +fear, and now that spur was gone, the dyke seemed a rampart +insurmountable, and he dared not attempt it. + +"What are you keeping that cursed dog there for?" he said, catching +sight, as he turned, of Cosmo, who held Covenant by the back of the +neck. + +"I am only waiting till your lordship's mastiff is out of the way," +answered Cosmo. + +"That you may set him at me again, as that old hag of yours did +this morning!" As he spoke they had neared the kitchen-door, open +as usual, and Grizzie heard what he said. + +"That's as big a lee as ever your lordship h'ard tell i' the +coort," she cried. "It's the natur o' dougs to tak scunners. They +see far ben. Fess the beast in here, Cosmo; I s' be answerable for +'im. The puir animal canna bide my lord." + +"Hoot, hoot, Grizzie," began the laird anew, with displeasure in +his tone, but already the dog was in, and the kitchen-door closed. + +"Leave her alone, Mr. Warlock, if you don't want to have the worst +of it," said his lordship, trying to laugh. "But seriously, laird," +he went on, "it is not neighbourly to treat me like this. Oblige me +by giving orders to your people not to trespass on my property. I +have paid my money for it, and must be allowed to do with it as I +please." + +"My lord," returned the laird, "I have not given, and will not give +you the smallest annoyance in my own person.--I hope yet to possess +the earth," he interjected, half unconsciously, to himself, but +aloud. "But--" + +"Hey! hey!" said his lordship, thinking the man was sending his +reason after his property. + +"But," continued the laird, "I cannot interfere with the rights of +my neighbours. If Grizzie says she has a right of way--and I think +very probably she knows what she is about--I have no business to +interfere." + +"Confound your cant!" cried his lordship. "You care no more for +your neighbours than I do. You only want to make yourself +unpleasant to me. Show me the way out, and be damned." + +"My lord," said Cosmo, "if you weren't an old man, I would show you +the quickest way out! How dare you speak so to a man like my +father!" + +"Hold your tongue, you young fool! YOU stand up for your father! +--idling about at home and eating him up! Why don't you list? With +your education you could work your way up. I warn you, if you fall +into my hands, I will not spare you. The country will be better to +live in when such as you are scarcer." + +"Cosmo," said his father, "do not answer him. Show his lordship the +way out, and let him go." + +As they went through the garden, Lord Lick-my-loof sought to renew +the conversation, but Cosmo maintained a stern silence, and his +lordship went home incensed more than ever with the contumacious +paupers. + +But the path in which Grizzie gloried as the work of her own feet, +hardened and broadened, and that although she herself had very +little FOOT in it any more. For the following week Mistress Gracie +died; and the day after she was buried, the old cotter came to the +laird, and begged him to yield, if he pleased, the contested point, +and part with the bit of land he occupied. For all the neighbours +knew his lordship greatly coveted it, though none of them were +aware what a price he had offered for it. + +"Ye see, sir," he said, "noo 'at SHE'S gane, it maitters naething +to Aggie or me whaur we are or what comes o' 's." + +"But wadna she hae said the same, gien it had been you 'at was +gane, Jeames?" asked the laird. + +"'Deed wad she! She was aye a' thing for ither fowk, an' naething +for hersel'! The mair cause she sud be considered the noo!" + +"An' ca' ye that considerin' her--to du the minute she's gane the +thing wad hae grieved her by ordinar' whan she was wi' ye?" + +"Whan we war thegither," returned Jeames with solemnity, "there was +a heap o' things worth a hantle; noo 'at we're pairted there's jist +nearhan' as mony 'at 's no worth a strae." + +"Weel du I un'erstan' ye, Jeames!" returned the laird with a sigh. +"But what wad come o' yersel' an' Aggie wi'oot, a place to lay yer +heid? We're no to mak oorsel's a' sae ill aff as was the Maister; +we maun lea' that to his wull. Ye wadna hae HER luik doon an' see +ye in less comfort nor whan she was wi' ye!" + +"Thereanent, sir, I had a word o' proposal to mak," rejoined +Jeames. "Ye hae nae men noo aboot the place: what for sudna Aggie +an' me come and bide i' the men's quarters, and be at han' to len' +a han' whan it was wantit? Aggie an' me wad help to get mair oot o' +the gairden; I wad hae mair time for weyvin'; an' ye wad get a heap +for the bit grun' fra Lick-my loof. It wadna be an ill muv, I do +believe, laird, for aither pairt. Consider o' 't, sir." + +The laird saw that they might at least be better accommodated at +the castle than the cottage. He would consult his son, he said. +Cosmo in his turn consulted Aggie, and was satisfied. In the winter +the wind blew through the cottage bitterly, she said. + +As soon as it was settled, Cosmo went to call on his lordship, and +was shown into his library. + +His lordship guessed his errand, for his keen eye had that same +morning perceived signs of change about the cottage. He received +him with politeness, and begged to know wherein he could serve him. +From his changed behaviour Cosmo thought he must be sorry for the +way he had spoken to the laird. + +"My father sent me," he said, "to inform your lordship that he is +now at length in a position to treat with your lordship concerning +the proposal to purchase James Gracie's croft." + +"I am greatly obliged to your father," replied Lord Lick-my-loof, +softly wiping one hand with the other, "for his attention, but I +have no longer any desire to secure the land. It has been so long +denied me, that at length I have grown indifferent to the +possession of it. That is a merciful provision of the Creator, that +the human mind should have the faculty of accommodating itself to +circumstances, even of positive nuisance." + +Cosmo rose. + +"As soon as you have made up your mind," added his lordship, rising +also, "to part with what remains of the property, INCLUDING THE +CASTLE, I should be glad to have the refusal of that. It would make +a picturesque ruin from certain points of view on the estate." + +Cosmo bowed, and left his lordship grinning with pleasure. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +ANOTHER HARVEST. + + +The harvest brought again the opportunity of earning a pound or +two, and Cosmo was not the man to let it slip. But he would not go +so far from home again, for, though his father never pined or +complained, Cosmo could see that his days shrunk more rapidly when +he was not with him: left alone, he began at once to go home the +faster--as if another dragging anchor were cast loose, and he was +drawn the more swiftly whither sets the tide of life. To the old +and weary man the life to come showed as rest; to the young and +active Cosmo it promised more work. It is all one; what we need for +rest as well as for labour is LIFE; more life we want, and that is +everything. That which is would be more. The eternal root causes us +to long for more existence, more being, more of God's making, less +of our own unmaking. Our very desire after rest comes of life, life +so strong that it recoils from weariness. The imperfect needs to be +more--must grow. The sense of growth, of ever enlarging existence, +is essential to the created children of an infinite Father; for in +the children the paternal infinite goes on working--by them +recognizable, not as infinitude, but as growth. + +The best thing in sight for both father and son seemed to Cosmo a +place in Lord Lick-my-loof's harvest--an engagement to reap, +amongst the rest, the fields that had so lately been his own. He +would then be almost within sight of his father when not with him. +He applied, therefore, to the grieve, the same man with whom he had +all but fought that memorable Sunday of Trespass. Though of a +coarse, the man was not of a spiteful nature, and that he had +quarrelled with another was not to him sufficient rea--son for +hating him ever after; yet, as he carried the application to his +lordship, for he dared not without his master's leave engage to his +service the man he counted his enemy, it gave him pleasure to see +what he called poor pride brought to the shame of what he called +beggary--as if the labour of a gentleman's hands were not a good +deal further from beggary than the living upon money gained anyhow +by his ancestors! + +Lord Lick-my-loof smouldered awhile before giving an answer. The +question was, which would most gratify the feelings he cherished +towards the man of old blood, high station, and evil fortunes--to +accept or refuse the offered toil. His deliberation ended in his +giving orders to the bailiff to fee the young laird, but to mind he +did not pay workmen's wages for gentleman's work--which injunction +the bailiff allowed to reach Cosmo's ears. + +The young laird, as they all called him, was a favourite with his +enemy's men--partly, that they did not love their master, and were +the more ready to side with the man he oppressed; partly, because +they admired the gentleman who so cheerfully descended to their +level, and, showing neither condescension nor chagrin, was in all +simplicity friendly with them; and partly, because some of them had +been to his evening-school the last winter, and had become attached +to him. No honest heart indeed could be near Cosmo long and not +love him--for the one reason that humanity was in him so largely +developed. To him a man was a man whatever his position or calling; +he beheld neither in the great man a divinity, nor in the small man +a slave; but honoured in his heart every image of the living God it +had pleased that God to make--honoured every man as, if not already +such in the highest sense, yet destined to be one day a brother of +Jesus Christ. + +In the arrangement of the mowers, the grieve placed Cosmo last, as +presumably the least capable, that he might not lower the rate of +the field. But presently Cosmo contrived to make his neighbour in +front a little uneasy about his legs, and when the man humourously +objected to having them cut off, asked him, for the joke of the +thing, to change places with him. The man at once consented; the +rest behaved with equal courtesy, showing no desire to contest with +him the precedence of labour; before the end of the long bout, +Cosmo swung the leading scythe; and many were the compliments he +received from his companions, as they stood sharpening for the +next, in which they were of one mind he must take the lead, some +begging him however to be considerate, as they were not all so +young as he, while others warned him that, if he went on as he had +begun, he could not keep it up, but the first would be the last +before the day was over. Cosmo listened, and thereafter restrained +himself, having no right to overwork his companions; yet +notwithstanding he had cause, many a time in after life, to +remember the too great exertion of that day. Even in the matter of +work a man has to learn that he is not his own, but has a master, +whom he must not serve as if he were a hard one. When our will goes +hand in hand with God's, then are we fellow-workers with him in the +affairs of the universe--not mere discoverers of his ways, watching +at the outskirts of things, but labourers with him at the heart of +them. + +The next day Lord Lick-my-loof's shadow was upon the field, and +there he spent some time watching how things went. + +Now Grizzie and Aggie, irrespective of Cosmo's engagement, of which +at the time they were unaware, had laid their heads together, and +concluded that, although they could not both be at once away from +the castle, they might between them, with the connivance of the +bailiff, do a day's work and earn a day's wages; and although the +grieve would certainly have listened to no such request from +Grizzie in person, he was incapable of refusing it to Aggie. Hence +it followed that Grizzie, in her turn that morning, was gathering +to Cosmo's scythe, hanging her labour on that of the young laird +with as devoted a heart as if he had been a priest at the high +altar, and she his loving acolyte. I doubt if his lordship would +have just then approached Cosmo, had he noted who the woman was +that went stooping along behind the late heir of the land, now a +labourer upon it for the bread of his household. + +"Weel, Glenwarlock!" said the old man, giving a lick to the palm of +his right hand as he stopped in front of the nearing mower, "ye're +a famous han' at the scythe! The corn boos doon afore ye like the +stooks to Joseph." + +"I hae a guid arm an' a sharp scythe, my lord," answered Cosmo +cheerily. + +"Whisht, whisht, my lord!" said Grizzie. "Gien the corn hear ye, +it'll stan' up again an' cry out. Hearken til 't." + +The morning had been very still, but that moment a gust of wind +came and set all the corn rustling. + +"What! YOU here!--Crawford, you rascal!" cried his lordship, +looking round, "turn this old cat out of the field." + +But he looked in vain; the grieve was nowhere in sight. + +"The deil sew up yer lordship's moo' wi' an awn o' beer!" (a beard +of barley) cried Grizzie. "Haith, gien I be a cat, ye s' hear me +curse!" + +His lordship bethought himself that she would certainly disgrace +him in the hearing of his labourers if he provoked her further, for +a former encounter had revealed that she knew things not to his +credit. They were all working away as if they had not an ear +amongst them, but almost all of them heard every word. + +"Hoots, wuman!" he said, in an altered tone, "canna ye tak a +jeist?" + +"Na; there's ower mony o' ye lordship's jeists hae turnt fearsome +earnest to them at tuik them!" + +"What mean ye, wuman?" + +"Wuman! quo' he? My name's Grisel Grant. Wha kens na auld Grizzie, +'at never turnt her back on freen' or foe? But I'm no gaein til +affront yer lordship wi' the sicht o' yersel' afore fowk--sae long, +that is, as ye haud a quaiet souch. But gie the yoong laird there +ony o' the dirt ye're aye lickin' oot o' yer loof, an' the auld cat +'ll be cryin' upo' the hoose-tap!" + +"Grizzie! Grizzie!" cried Cosmo, ceasing his work and coming back +to where they stood, "ye'll ruin a'!" + +"What is there to ruin 'at he can ruin mair?" returned Grizzie. +"Whan yer back's to the wa', ye canna fa'. An angry chiel' 'ill ca' +up the deil; but an angry wife 'll gar him rin for's life. When I'm +angert, I fear no aiven his lordship there!" + +Lord Lick-my-loof turned and went, and Grizzie set to work like a +fury, probably stung by the sense that she had gone too far. Old +woman as she was, she had soon overtaken Cosmo, but he was sorely +vexed, and did not speak to her. When after a while the heat of her +wrath was abated, Grizzie could not endure the silence, for in +every motion of Cosmo's body before her she read that she had hurt +him grievously. + +"Laird!" she cried at last, "my stren'th's gane frae me. Gien ye +dinna speyk to me, I'll drap." + +Cosmo stopped his scythe in mid swing, and turned to her. How could +he resist such an appeal! + +"Grizzie," he said, "I winna deny 'at ye hae vext me,--" + +"Ye needna; I wadna believe ye. But ye dinna ken yon man as I du, +or ye wadna be sae sair angert at onything wuman cud say til 'im. +Gien I was to tell ye what I ken o' 'im, ye wad be affrontit afore +me, auld wife as I am. Haith, ye wadna du anither stroke for 'im!" + +"It's for the siller, no for HIM, Grizzie. But gien he war as ill +as ye ca' 'im, a' the same, as ye weel ken, the Lord maks his sun +to rise on the evil an' on the good, an' sen's rain on the just an' +on the unjust!" + +"Ow ay! the Lord can afoord it!" remarked Grizzie. + +"An' them 'at wad be his, maun afoord it tu, Grizzie!" returned +Cosmo. "Whaur's the guid o' ca'in' ill names,'uman?" + +"Ill's the trowth o' them 'at's ill. What for no set ill names to +ill duers?" + +"Cause a christian 's b'un' to destroy the warks o' the evil ane; +an' ca'in' names raises mair o' them. The only thing 'at maks awa' +wi' ill, is the man himsel' turnin' again' 't, an' that he'll never +du for ill names. Ye wad never gar me repent that gait, Grizzie. +Hae mercy upo' the auld sinner,'uman." + +The pace at which they were making up for lost time was telling +upon Grizzie, and she was silent. When she spoke again it was upon +another subject. + +"I cud jest throttle that grieve there!" she said. "To see 'im the +nicht afore last come hame to the verra yett wi' Aggie, was enouch +to anger the sanct 'at I'm no." + +Jealousy sent a pang through the heart of Cosmo. Was not Aggie one +of the family--more like a sister to him than any other could ever +be? The thought of her and a man like Crawford was unendurable. + +"She cudna weel help hersel'," he rejoined; "an' whaur's the +maitter, sae lang as she has naething to say til 'im?" + +"An' wha kens hoo lang that may be?" returned Grizzie. "The hert o' +a wuman's no deceitfu' as the Buik says o' a man 's, an' sae 's a +heap the easier deceivt. The chield's no ill-luikin'! an' I s' +warran' he's no sae rouch wi' a yoong lass as wi' an auld wife." + +"Grizzie, ye wadna mint 'at oor Aggie's ane to be ta'en wi' the +luiks o' a man!" + +"What for no--whan it's a' the man has! A wuman's hert's that saft, +whiles,'at she'll jist tak 'im, no to be sair upon 'im. I wadna +warran' ony lass! Gien the fallow cairry a fair face, she'll sweir +her conscience doon he maun hae a guid hert." + +Thus Grizzie turned the tables upon Cosmo, and sheltered herself +behind them. Scarcely a word did he speak the rest of the morning. + +At noon, when toil gladly made way for dinner, they all sat down +among the stooks to eat and drink--all except Grizzie, who, +appropriating an oatcake the food she and Aggie had a right to +between them, carried it home, and laid the greater part aside. +Cosmo ate and drank with the rest of the labourers, and enjoyed the +homely repast as much as any of them. By the time the meal was +over, Aggie had arrived to take Grizzie's place. + +It was a sultry afternoon; and what with the heat and the annoyance +of the morning from Grizzie's tongue and her talk concerning Agnes, +the scythe hung heavy in Cosmo's hands, nor had Aggie to work her +hardest to keep up with him. But she was careful to maintain her +proper distance from him, for she knew that the least suspicion of +relaxing effort would set him off like a thrashing machine. He led +the field, nevertheless, at fair speed; his fellow labourers were +content; and the bailiff made no remark. But he was so silent, and +prolonged silence was so unusual between them, that Aggie was +disquieted. + +"Are ye no weel, Cosmo?" she asked. + +"Weel eneuch, Aggie," he answered. "What gars ye speir?" + +"Ye're haudin' yer tongue sae sair.--And," she added, for she +caught sight of the bailiff approaching, "ye hae lost the last inch +or twa o' yer stroke." + +"I'll tell ye a' aboot it as we gang hame," he answered, swinging +his scythe in the arc of a larger circle. + +The bailiff came up. + +"Dinna warstle yersel' to death, Aggie," he said. + +"I maun haud up wi' my man," she replied. + +"He's a het man at the scythe--ower het! He'll be fit for naething +or the week be oot. He canna haud on at this rate!" + +"Ay can he--fine that! Ye dinna ken oor yoong laird. He's worth twa +ordinar' men. An' gien ye dinna think me fit to gather til' 'im, I +s' lat ye see ye're mistaen, Mr. Crawford." + +And Aggie went on gathering faster and faster. + +"Hoots!" said the bailiff, going up to her, and laying his hand on +her shoulder, "I ken weel ye hae the spunk to work till ye drap. +But there's na occasion the noo. Sit ye doon an' tak yer breath +ameenute--here i' the shaidow o' this stook. Whan Glenwarlock's at +the tither en', we'll set tu thegither an' be up wi' him afore he's +had time to put a fresh edge on's scythe. Come, Aggie! I hae lang +been thinkin' lang to hae a word wi' ye. Ye left me or I kent whaur +I was the ither nicht." + +"My time's no my ain," answered Aggie. + +"Whause is 't than?" + +"While's it's the laird's, an' while's it's my father's, an' noo +it's his lordship's." + +"It's yer ain sae lang's I'm at the heid o' 's lordship's affairs." + +"Na; that canna be. He's boucht my time, an' he'll pey me for 't, +an' he s' hae his ain." + +"Ye needna consider 'im mair nor rizzon: he's been nae freen' to +you or yours." + +"What's that to the p'int?" + +"A' thing to the p'int--wi' me here to haud it richt atween ye." + +"Ca' ye that haudin' o' 't richt, to temp' me to wrang 'im?" said +Aggie, going steadily on at her gathering, while the grieve kept +following her step by step. + +"Ye're unco short wi' a body, Aggie!" + +"I weel may be, whan a body wad hae me neglec' my paid wark." + +"Weel, I reckon ye're i' the richt o' 't efter a', sae I'll jist +fa' tu, an' len' ye a han'." + +He had so far hindered her that Cosmo had gained a little; and now +in pretending to help, he contrived to hinder her yet more. Still +she kept near enough to Cosmo to prevent the grieve from saying +much, and by and by he left her. + +When they dropped work for the night, he would have accompanied her +home, but she never left Cosmo's side, and they went away together. + +"Aggie," said Cosmo, as soon as there was no one within hearing, "I +dinna like that chield hingin' aboot ye--glowerin' at ye as gien he +wad ate ye." + +"He winna du that, Cosmo; he's ceevil eneuch." + +"Ye sud hae seen sae rouch as he was to Grizzie!" + +"Grizzie's some rouch hersel' whiles," remarked Aggie quietly. + +"That's ower true," assented Cosmo; "but a man sud never behave +like that til a wuman." + +"Say that to the man," rejoined Aggie. "The wuman can haud aff o' +hersel'." + +"Grizzie, I grant ye,'s mair nor a match for ony man; but ye're no +sae lang i' the tongue, Aggie." + +"Think ye a lang tongue 's a lass's safety, Cosmo? I wad awe nane +til 't! But what's ta'en ye the nicht,'at ye speyk to me sae? I ken +no occasion." + +"Aggie, I wadna willinl'y say a word to vex ye," answered Cosmo; +"but I hae notit an h'ard 'at the best 'o wuman whiles tak +oonaccootable fancies to men no fit to haud a can'le to them." + +Aggie turned her head aside. + +"I wad ill like you, for instance, to be drawn to yon Crawford," he +went on. "It's eneuch to me 'at he's been lang the factotum o' an +ill man." + +A slight convulsive movement passed across Aggie's face, leaving +behind it a shadow of hurtless resentment, yielding presently to a +curious smile. + +"I micht mak a better man o' 'im," she said, and again looked away. + +"They a' think that, I'm thinkin'!" returned Cosmo with a sad +bitterness. "An' sae they wull, to the warl's en'.--But, Aggie," he +added, after a pause, "ye ken ye're no to be oonaiqually yokit." + +"That's what I hae to heed, I ken," murmured Aggie. "But what do ye +un'erstan' by 't, Cosmo? There's nae 'worshippers o' idols the noo, +as i' the days whan the apostle said that." + +"There's idols visible, an' idols invisible," answered Cosmo. +"There's heaps o' idols amo' them 'at ca's themsel's an' 's coontit +christians. Gien a man set himsel' to lay by siller, he's the +worshipper o' as oogly an idol as gien he said his prayers to the +fish-tailt god o' the Philistines." + +"Weel I wat that!" returned Agnes, and a silence followed. + +"You an' me's aye been true til ane anither, Aggie," resumed Cosmo +at length, "an' I wad fain hae a promise frae ye--jist to content +me." + +"What aboot, Cosmo?" + +"Promise, an' I'll tell ye, as the bairnies say." + +"But we're no bairnies, Cosmo, an' I daurna--even to you 'at I wad +trust like the Bible. Tell me what it is, an' gien I may, I wull." + +"It's no muckle atween you an' me, Aggie. It's only this--'at gien +ever ye fa' in love wi' onybody, ye'll let me ken." + +Agnes was silent for a moment; then, with a tremble in her voice, +which in vain she sought to smooth out, and again turning her head +away, answered: + +"Cosmo, I daurna." + +"I want naething mair," said Cosmo, thinking she must have +misapprehended, "nor the promise 'at what ye ken I sail ken. I wad +fain be wi' ye at sic a time." + +"Cosmo," said. Aggie with much solemnity, "there's ane at's aye at +han', ane that sticketh closer nor a brither. The thing ye require +o' me, micht be what a lass could tell to nane but the father o' +her--him 'at 's in haiven." + +Cosmo was silenced, as indeed it was time and reason he should be; +for had she been his daughter, he would have had no right to make +such a request of her. He did it in all innocence, and might well +have asked her to tell him, but not to promise to tell him. He did +not yet understand however that he was wrong, and was the more +troubled about her, feeling as if, for the first time in their +lives, Aggie and he had begun to be divided. + +They entered the kitchen. Aggie hastened to help Grizzie lay the +cloth for supper. Her grandfather looked up with a smile from the +newspaper he was reading in the window. The laird, who had an old +book in his hand, called out, + +"Here, Cosmo! jist hearken to this bit o' wisdom, my man--frae a +hert doobtless praisin' God this mony a day in higher warl's:--'He +that would always know before he trusts, who would have from his +God a promise before he will expect, is the slayer of his own +eternity.'" + +The words mingled strangely with what had just passed between him +and Agnes. Both they and that gave him food for thought, but could +not keep him awake. + +The bailiff continued to haunt the goings and comings of Agnes, but +few supposed his attentions acceptable to her. Cosmo continued more +and less uneasy. + +The harvest was over at length, and the little money earned mostly +laid aside for the sad winter, once more on its way. But no good +hope dies without leaving a child, a younger and fresher hope, +behind it. The year's fruit must fall that the next year's may +come, and the winter is the only way to the spring. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +THE FINAL CONFLICT. + + +As there was no more weekly pay for teaching, and no extra hands +were longer wanted for farm-labour, Cosmo, hearing there was a +press of work and a scarcity of workmen in the building-line, +offered his services, at what wages he should upon trial judge them +worth, to Sandy Shand, the mason, then erecting a house in the +village for a certain Mr. Pennycuik--a native of the same, who, +having left it long ago, and returned from India laden with riches, +now desired, if not to end, yet to spend his days amid the +associations of his youth. Upon this house, his offer accepted, +Cosmo laboured, now doing the work of a mason, now of a carpenter, +and receiving fair wages, until such time when the weather put a +stop to all but in-door work of the kind. But the strange thing +was, that, instead of reaping golden opinions for his readiness to +turn his hand to anything honest by which he could earn a shilling, +Cosmo became in consequence the object of endless blame--that a +young man of his abilities, with a college-education, should spend +his time--WASTE it, people said--at home, pottering about at work +that was a disgrace to a gentleman, instead of going away and +devoting himself to some HONOURABLE CALLING. "Look at Mr. +Pennycuik!" they said. "See how he has raised himself in the social +scale, and that without one of the young laird's advantages! There +he stands, a rich man and employer of labour, while the +poor-spirited gentleman is one of his hired labourers!" Such is the +mean idea most men have of the self-raising that is the duty of a +man! They speak after their kind, putting ambition in the place of +aspiration. Not knowing the spirit they were of, these would have +had Cosmo say to his father, KORBAN. They knew nothing of, and were +incapable of taking into the account certain moral refinements and +delicate difficulties entailed upon him by that father, such as +might indeed bring him to beggary, but could never allow him to +gather riches like those of Mr. Pennycuik. Like his father he had a +holy weakness for the purity that gives arms of the things within +us. If there is one thing a Christian soul recoils from, it is +meanness--of action, of thought, of judgment. What a heaven some +must think to be saved into! At the same time Cosmo would not have +left his father to make a fortune the most honourable. + +Through stress of weather, Cosmo was therefore thrown back once +more upon his writing. But still, whether it was that there was too +little of Grizzie or too much of himself in these later stories, +his work seemed to have lost either the power or the peculiarity +that had recommended it. Things therefore did not look promising. +But they had a fair stock of oatmeal laid in, and that was the +staff of life, also a tolerable supply of fuel, which neighbours +had lent them horses to bring from the peat-moss. + +With the cold weather the laird began again to fail, and Cosmo to +fear that this would be the last of the good man's winters. As the +best protection from the cold he betook himself to bed, and Cosmo +spent his life almost in the room, reading aloud when the old man +was able to listen, and reading to himself or writing when he was +not. The other three of the household were mostly in the kitchen, +saving fuel, and keeping each other company. And thus the little +garrison awaited the closer siege of the slow-beleaguering winter, +most of them in their hearts making themselves strong to resist the +more terrible enemies which all winter-armies bring flying on their +flanks--the haggard fiends of doubt and dismay--which creep through +the strongest walls. To trust in spite of the look of being +forgotten; to keep crying out into the vast whence comes no voice, +and where seems no hearing; to struggle after light, where is no +glimmer to guide; at every turn to find a door-less wall, yet ever +seek a door; to see the machinery of the world pauseless grinding +on as if self-moved, caring for no life, nor shifting a +hair's-breadth for all entreaty, and yet believe that God is awake +and utterly loving; to desire nothing but what comes meant for us +from his hand; to wait patiently, willing to die of hunger, fearing +only lest faith should fail--such is the victory that overcometh +the world, such is faith indeed. After such victory Cosmo had to +strive and pray hard, sometimes deep sunk in the wave while his +father floated calm on its crest: the old man's discipline had been +longer; a continuous communion had for many years been growing +closer between him and the heart whence he came. + +"As I lie here, warm and free of pain," he said once to his son, +"expecting the redemption of my body, I cannot tell you how happy I +am. I cannot think how ever in my life I feared anything. God knows +it was my obligation to others that oppressed me, but now, in my +utter incapacity, I am able to trust him with my honour, and my +duty, as well as my sin." + +"Look here, Cosmo," he said another time; "I had temptations such +as you would hardly think, to better my worldly condition, and +redeem the land of my ancestors, and the world would have +commended, not blamed me, had I yielded. But my God was with me all +the time, and I am dying a poorer man than my father left me, +leaving you a poorer man still, but, praised be God, an honest one. +Be very sure, my son, God is the only adviser to be trusted, and +you must do what he tells you, even if it lead you to a stake, to +be burned by the slow fire of poverty.--O my Father!" cried the old +man, breaking out suddenly in prayer, "my soul is a flickering +flame of which thou art the eternal, inextinguishable fire. I am +blessed because thou art. Because thou art life, I live. Nothing +can hurt me, because nothing can hurt thee. To thy care I leave my +son, for thou lovest him as thou hast loved me. Deal with him as +thou hast dealt with me. I ask for nothing, care for nothing but +thy will. Strength is gone from me, but my life is hid in thee. I +am a feeble old man, but I am dying into the eternal day of thy +strength." + +Cosmo stood and listened with holy awe and growing faith. For what +can help our faith like the faith of the one we most love, when, +sorely tried, it is yet sound and strong! + +But there was still one earthy clod clinging to the heart of Cosmo. +There was no essential evil in it. yet not the less it held him +back from the freedom of the man who, having parted with +everything, possesses all things. The place, the things, the +immediate world in which he was born and had grown up, crowded with +the memories and associations of childhood and youth, amongst them +the shadowy loveliness of Lady Joan, had a hold of his heart that +savoured of idolatry. The love was born in him, had come down into +him through generation after generation of ancestors, had a power +over him for whose existence he was not accountable, but for whose +continuance, as soon as he became aware of its existence, he would +know himself accountable. For Cosmo was not one of those weaklings +who, finding in themselves certain tendencies with whose existence +they had nothing to do, and therefore in whose presence they have +no blame, say to themselves, "I cannot help it," and at once create +evil, and make it their own, by obeying the inborn impulse. +Inheritors of a lovely estate, with a dragon in a den, which they +have to kill that the brood may perish, they make friends with the +dragon, and so think to save themselves trouble. + +But I would not be misunderstood: I do not think Cosmo loved his +home too much; I only think he did not love it enough in God. To +love a thing divinely, is to be ready to yield it without a pang +when God wills it; but to Cosmo, the thought of parting with the +house of his fathers and the rag of land that yet remained to it, +was torture. This hero of mine, instead of sleeping the perfect +sleep of faith, would lie open-eyed through half the night, +hatching scheme after scheme--not for the redemption of the +property--even to him that seemed hopeless, but for the retention +of the house. Might it not at least go to ruin under eyes that +loved it, and with the ministration of tender hands that yet could +not fast enough close the slow-yawning chasms of decay? His dream +haunted him, and he felt that, if it came true, he would rather +live in the dungeon wine-cellar of the mouldering mammoth-tooth, +than forsake the old stones to live elsewhere in a palace. The love +of his soul for Castle Warlock was like the love of the Psalmist +for Jerusalem: when he looked on a stone of its walls, it was dear +to him. But the love of Jerusalem became an idolatry, for the Jews +no longer loved it because the living God dwelt therein, but +because it was theirs, and then it was doomed, for it was an idol. +The thing was somewhat different with Cosmo: the house was almost a +part of himself--an extension of his own body, as much his as the +shell of a snail is his. But because into this shell were not +continued those nerves of life which give the consciousness of the +body, and there was therefore no reaction from it of those feelings +of weakness and need which, to such a man as Cosmo, soon reveal the +fact that he is not lord of his body, that he cannot add to it one +cubit, or make one hair white or black, and must therefore leave +the care of it to him who made it, he had to learn in other ways +that his castle of stone was God's also. His truth and humility and +love had not yet reached to the quickening of the idea of the old +house with the feeling that God was in it with him, giving it to +him. Not yet possessing therefore the soul of the house, its +greatest bliss, which nothing could take from him, he naturally +could not be content to part with it. It seemed an impossibility +that it should be taken from him--a wrong to things, to men, to +nature, that a man like Lick-my-loof should obtain the lordship +over it. As he lay in the night, in the heart of the old pile, and +heard the wind roaring about its stone-mailed roofs, the thought of +losing it would sting him almost to madness,--hurling him from his +bed to the floor, to pace up and down the room, burning, in the +coldest midnight of winter, like one of the children in the fiery +furnace, only the furnace was of worse fire, being the wrath which +worketh not the righteousness of God. + +Suddenly one such night he became aware that he could not +pray--that in this mood he never prayed. In every other trouble he +prayed--felt it the one natural thing to pray! Why not in this? +Something must be wrong--terribly wrong! + +It was a stormy night; the snow-burdened wind was raving; and Cosmo +would have been striding about the room but that now he was in his +father's, and dreaded disturbing him. He lay still, with a stone on +his heart, for he was now awake to the fact that he could not say, +"Thy will be done." He tried sore to lift up his heart, but could +not. Something rose ever between him and his God, and beat back his +prayer. A thick fog was about him--no air wherewith to make a cry! +In his heart not one prayer would come to life; it was like an old +nest without bird or egg in it. + +It was too terrible! Here was a schism at the very root of his +being. The love of things was closer to him than the love of God. +Between him and God rose the rude bulk of a castle of stone! He +crept out of bed, laid himself on his face on the floor, and prayed +in an agony. The wind roared and howled, but the desolation in his +heart made of the storm a mere play of the elements. How few of my +readers will understand even the possibility of such a state! How +many of them will scorn the idea of it, as that of a man on the +high road to insanity! + +"God," he cried, "I thought I knew thee, and sought thy will; and I +have sought thy will in greater things than this wherein I now lie +ashamed before thee. I cannot even pray to thee. But hear thou the +deepest will in me, which, thou knowest, must bow before thine, +when once thou hast uttered it. Hear the prayer I cannot offer. Be +my perfect Father to fulfil the imperfection of thy child. Be God +after thy own nature, beyond my feeling, beyond my +prayer--according to that will in me which now, for all my trying, +refuses to awake and arise from the dead. O Christ, who knowest me +better a thousand times than I know myself, whose I am, divinely +beyond my notions of thee and me, hear and save me eternally, out +of thy eternal might whereby thou didst make me and give thyself to +me. Make me strong to yield all to thee. I have no way of +confessing thee before men, but in the depth of my thought I would +confess thee, yielding everything but the truth, which is thyself; +and therefore, even while my heart hangs back, I force my mouth to +say the words--TAKE FROM ME WHAT THOU WILT, ONLY MAKE ME CLEAN, +PURE, DIVINE. To thee I yield the house and all that is in it. It +is thine, not mine. Give it to whom thou wilt. I would have nothing +but what thou choosest shall be mine. I have thee, and all things +are mine." + +Thus he prayed, thus he strove with a reluctant heart, forcing its +will by the might of a deeper will, that WOULD be for God and +freedom, in spite of the cleaving of his soul to the dust. + +Then for a time thought ceased in exhaustion. When it returned, lo! +he was in peace, in the heart of a calm unspeakable. How it came he +could not tell, for he had not been aware of its approach; but the +contest was over, and in a few minutes he was fast asleep--ten +times his own because a thousand times another's--one with him whom +all men in one could not comprehend, whom yet the heart of every +true child lays hold upon and understands. + +I would not have it supposed that, although the crisis was past, +there was no more stormy weather. + +Often it blew a gale--often a blast would come creeping in--almost +always in the skirts of the hope that God would never require such +a sacrifice of him. But he never again found he could not pray. +Recalling the strife and the great peace, he made haste to his +master, compelling the refractory slave in his heart to be free, +and cry, "Do thy will, not mine." Then would the enemy withdraw, +and again he breathed the air of the eternal. + +When a man comes to the point that he will no longer receive +anything save from the hands of him who has the right to withhold, +and in whose giving alone lies the value of possession, then is he +approaching the inheritance of the saints in light, of those whose +strength is made perfect in weekness. But there are those who for +the present it is needless to trouble any more than the chickens +about the yard. Their hour will come, and in the meantime they are +counted the fortunate ones of the earth. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +A REST. + + +But now James Gracie fell sick. They removed him therefore from the +men's quarters, and gave him Cosmo's room, that he might be better +attended to, and warmer than in his own. Cosmo put up a bed for +himself in his father's room, and Grizzie and Aggie slept together; +so now the household was gathered literally under one roof--that of +the kitchentower, as it had been called for centuries. + +James's attack was serious, requiring much attention, and involving +an increase of expenditure which it needed faith to face. But of +course Cosmo did not shrink from it: so long as his money lasted, +his money should go. James himself objected bitterly to such waste, +as he called it, saying what remained of his life was not worth it. +But the laird, learning the mood the old man was in, rose, and +climbed the stair, and stood before his bed, and said to him +solemnly, "Jeames, wha are ye to tell the Lord it's time he sud tak +ye? what KIN' o' faith is 't, to refuse a sup,'cause ye see na +anither spunefu' upo' the ro'd ahin' 't?" + +James hid his old face in his old hands. The laird went back to his +bed, and nothing more ever passed on the subject. + +The days went on, the money ran fast away, no prospect appeared of +more, but still they had enough to eat. + +One morning in the month of January, still and cold, and dark +overhead, a cheerless day in whose bosom a storm was coming to +life, Cosmo, sitting at his usual breakfast of brose, the simplest +of all preparations of oatmeal, bethought himself whether some of +the curiosities in the cabinets in the drawing-room might not, with +the help of his friend the jeweller, be turned to account. Not +waiting to finish his breakfast, for which that day he had but +little relish, he rose and went at once to examine the family +treasures in the light of necessity. + +The drawing-room felt freezing-dank like a tomb, and looked weary +of its memories. It was so still that it seemed as if sound would +die in it. Not a mouse stirred. The few pictures on the walls +looked perishing with cold and changelessness. The very shine of +the old damask was wintry. But Cosmo did not long stand gazing. He +crossed to one of the shrines of his childhood's reverence, opened +it, and began to examine the things with the eye of a seller. Once +they had seemed treasures inestimable, now he feared they might +bring him nothing in his sore need. Scarce a sorrow at the thought +of parting with them woke in him, as one after another he set those +aside, and took these from their places and put them on a table. He +was like a miner searching for golden ore, not a miser whom hunger +had dominated. The sole question with him was, would this or that +bring money. When he had gone through the cabinet, he turned from +it to regard what he had found. There was a dagger in a sheath of +silver of raised work, with a hilt cunningly wrought of the same; a +goblet of iron with a rich pattern in gold beaten into it; a +snuff-box with a few diamonds set round a monogram in gold in the +lid: these, with several other smaller things that had an air of +promise about them, he thought it might be worth while to make the +trial with, and packed them carefully, thinking to take them at +once to Muir of Warlock, and commit them to the care of the +carrier. But when he returned to his father, he found he had been +missing him, and put off going till the next day. + +As the sun went down, the wind rose, and the storm in the bosom of +the stillness came to life--the worst of that winter. It reminded +both father and son of the terrible night when Lord Mergwain went +out into the deep. The morning came, fierce with gray cold age, a +tumult of wind and snow. There seemed little chance the carrier +would go for days to come. But the storm might have been more +severe upon their hills than in the opener country, and Cosmo would +go and see. Certain things too had to be got for the invalids. + +It was with no small difficulty he made his way through the snow to +the village, and there also he found it so deep, that the question +would have been how to get the cart out of the shed, not whether +the horses were likely to get it through the Glens o' Fowdlan. He +left the parcel therefore with the carrier's wife, and proceeded, +somewhat sad at heart, to spend the last of his money, amounting to +half-a--crown. Having done so, he set out for home, the wind +blowing fierce, and the snow falling thick. + +Just outside the village he met a miserable-looking woman, with a +child in her arms. How she came to be there he could not think. She +moved him with the sense of community in suffering: hers was the +greater share, and he gave her the twopence he had left. Prudence +is but one of the minor divinities, if indeed she be anything +better than the shadow of a virtue, and he took no counsel with +her, knowing that the real divinity, Love, would not cast him out +for the deed. The widow who gave the two mites was by no means a +prudent person. Upon a certain ancient cabinet of carved oak is +represented Charity, gazing at the child she holds on her arm, and +beside her Prudence, regarding herself in a mirror. + +Cosmo had not gone far, battling with wind and snow above and +beneath, before he began to feel his strength failing him. It had +indeed been failing for some time. Grizzie knew, although he +himself did not, that he had not of late been eating so well; and +he had never quite recovered his exertions in Lord Lick-my-loof's +harvest-fields. Now, for the first time in his life, he began to +find his strength unequal to elemental war. But he laughed at the +idea, and held on. The wind was right in his face, and the cold was +bitter. Nor was there within him, though plenty of courage, good +spirits enough to supply any lack of physical energy. His breath +grew short, and his head began to ache. He longed for home that he +might lie down and breathe, but a long way and a great snowy wind +were betwixt him and rest. He fell into a reverie, and seemed to +get on better for not thinking about the exertion he had to make. +The monotony of it at the same time favoured the gradual absorption +of his thoughts in a dreamy meditation. Alternately sunk in himself +for minutes, and waking for a moment to the consciousness of what +was around him, he had walked, as it seemed, for hours, and at +length, all notion of time and distance gone, began to wonder +whether he must not be near the place where the parish-road turned +off. He stood, and sent sight into his eyes, but nothing was to be +seen through the drift save more drift behind it. Was he upon the +road at all? He sought this way and that, but could find neither +ditch nor dyke. He was lost! He knew well the danger of sitting +down, knew on the other hand that the more exhausted he was when he +succumbed, the sooner would the cold get the better of him, and +that even now he might be wandering from the abodes of men, +diminishing with every step the likelihood of being found. He +turned his back to the wind and stood--how long he did not know, +but while he stood thus 'twixt waking and sleeping, he received a +heavy blow on the head--or so it seemed--from something soft. It +dazed him, and the rest was like a dream, in which he walked on and +on for ages, falling and rising again, following something, he +never knew what. There all memory of consciousness ceased. He came +to himself in bed. + +Aggie was the first to get anxious about him. They had expected him +home to dinner, and when it began to grow dark and he had not come, +she could bear it no longer, and set out to meet him. But she had +not far to go, for she had scarcely left the kitchen-door when she +saw some one leaning over the gate. Through the gathering twilight +and the storm she could distinguish nothing more, but she never +doubted it was the young laird, though whether in the body or out +of it she did doubt not a little. She hurried to the gate, and +found him standing between it and the wall. She thought at first he +was dead, for there came no answer when she spoke; but presently +she heard him murmur something about conic sections. She opened the +gate gently. He would have fallen as it yielded, but she held him. +Her touch seemed to bring him a little to himself. She supported +and encouraged him; he obeyed her, and she succeeded in getting him +into the house. It was long ere Grizzie and she could make him warm +before the kitchen-fire, but at last he came to himself +sufficiently to walk up the stairs to bed, though afterwards he +remembered nothing of it. + +He was recovering before they let the laird understand in what a +dangerous plight Aggie had found him, but the moment he learned +that his son was ailing, the old man seemed to regain a portion of +his strength. He rose from his bed, and for the two days and three +nights during which Cosmo was feverish and wandering, slept only in +snatches. On the third day Cosmo himself persuaded him to return to +his bed. + +The women had now their hands full--all the men in the house laid +up, and they two only to do everything! The first night, when they +had got Cosmo comfortable in bed, and had together gone down again +to the kitchen, in the middle of the floor they stopped, and looked +at each other: their turn had come! They understood each other, and +words were needless. Each had saved a little money--and now no +questions would be asked! Aggie left the room and came back with +her store, which she put into Grizzie's hand. Grizzie laid it on +the table, went in her turn to her box, brought thence her store, +laid it on the other, took both up, closed her hands over them, +shook them together, murmured over them, like an incantation, the +words, "It's nae mair mine, an' it's nae mair thine, but belangs to +a', whatever befa'," and put all in her pocket under her winsey +petticoat. Thence, for a time, the invalids wanted, nothing--after +the moderate ideas of need, that is, ruling in the house. + +When Cosmo came to himself on the third day, he found that self +possessed by a wondrous peace. It was as if he were dead, and had +to rest till his strength, exhausted with dying, came back to him. +Bodiless he seemed, and without responsibility of action, with that +only of thought. Those verses in The Ancient Mariner came to him as +if he spoke them for himself: + + "I thought that I had died in sleep, + And was a blessed ghost." + +His soul was calm and trusting like that of a bird on her eggs, who +knows her one grand duty in the economy of the creation is repose. +How it was he never could quite satisfy himself, but, remembering +he had spent their last penny, he yet felt no anxiety; neither, +when Grizzie brought him food, felt inclination to ask her how she +had procured it. The atmosphere was that of the fairy-palace of his +childish--visions, only his feelings were more solemn, and the +fairy, instead of being beautiful, was--well, was dear old Grizzie. +His sole concern was his father, and the cheerful voice that +invariably answered his every inquiry was sufficient reassurance. + +For three days more he lay in a kind of blessed lethargy, with +little or no suffering. He fancied he could not recover, nor did he +desire to recover, but to go with his father to the old world, and +learn its ways from his mother. In his half slumbers he seemed ever +to be gently floating down a great gray river, on which thousands +more were likewise floating, each by himself, some in canoes, some +in boats, some in the water without even an oar; every now and then +one would be lifted and disappear, none saw how, but each knew that +his turn would come, when he too would be laid hold of; in the +meantime all floated helpless onward, some full of alarm at the +unknown before them, others indifferent, and some filled with +solemn expectation; he himself floated on gently waiting: the +unseen hand would come with the hour, and give him to his mother. + +On the seventh day he began to regard the things around him with +some interest, began to be aware of returning strength, and the +approach of duty: presently he must rise, and do his part to keep +things going! Still he felt no anxiety, for the alarum of duty had +not yet called him. And now, as he lay passive to the influences of +restoring strength, his father from his bed would tell him old +tales he had heard from his grandmother; and sometimes they made +Grizzie sit between the two beds, and tell them stories she had +heard in her childhood. Her stock seemed never exhausted. Now one, +now the other would say, "There, Grizzie! I never heard that +before!" and Grizzie would answer, "I daursay no, sir. Hoo sud ye +than? I had forgotten't mysel'!" + +Here is one of the stories Grizzie told them. + +"In a cauld how, far amo' the hills, whaur the winter was a sair +thing, there leevit an honest couple, a man 'at had a gey lot o' +sheep, an' his wife--fowk weel aff in respec' o' this warl's gear, +an' luikit up til amo' the neebours, but no to be envyed, seein' +they had lost a' haill bonny faimily, ane efter the ither, till +there was na ane left i' the hoose but jist ae laddie, the bonniest +an' the best o' a', an' as a maitter o' coorse, the verra aipple o' +their e'e.--Amo' the three o' 's laird," here Grizzie paused in her +tale to remark, "Ye'll be the only ane 'at can fully un'erstan' hoo +the hert o' a parent maun cleave to the last o' his flock.--Weel, +whether it was 'at their herts was ower muckle wrappit up i' this +ae human cratur for the growth o' their sowls, I dinna ken--there +bude to be some rizzon for't--this last ane o' a' begud in his turn +to dwine an' dwin'le like the lave; an' whaurever thae twa puir +fowk turnt themsel's i' their pangs, there stude deith, glowerin' +at them oot o' his toom e'en. Pray they did, ye may be sure, an' +greit whan a' was mirk, but prayers nor tears made nae differ; the +bairn was sent for, an' awa' the bairn maun gang. An' whan at +len'th he lay streekit in his last clean claes till the robe o' +richteousness 'at wants na washin' was put upon 'im, what cud they +but think the warl' was dune for them! + +"But the warl' maun wag, though the hert may sag; an' whan the deid +lies streekit, there's a hoose to be theekit. An' the freens an' +the neebours gatithert frae near an' frae far, till there was a +heap o' fowk i' the hoose, come to the beeryin' o' the bonny bairn. +An' fowk maun ait an' live nane the less 'at the maitter they come +upo' be deith; an' sae the nicht afore the yerdin', their denner +the neist day whan they cam back frae the grave, had to be +foreordeent. + +"It was i' the spring-time o' the year, unco late i' thae pairts. +The maist o' the lambs hed come, but the storms war laith to lea' +the laps o' the hills, an' lang efter it begud to be something like +weather laicher doon, the sheep cudna be lippent oot to pick their +bit mait for themsel's, but had to be keepit i' the cot. Sae to the +cot the gudeman wad gang, to fess hame a lamb for the freens an' +the neebours' denners. An' as it fell oot, it was a fearsome nicht +o' win' an' drivin' snaw--waur, I wad reckon, nor onything we hae +hereawa'. But he turnt na aside for win' or snaw, for little cared +he what cam til 'im or o' 'im, wi' sic a how in his hert. O' the +contrar', the storm was like a freenly cloak til's grief, for upo' +the ro'd he fell a greitin' an' compleenin' an' lamentin' lood, +jeedgin' nae doobt, gien he thoucht at a', he micht du as he likit +wi' naebody nigh. To the sheep cot, I say, he gaed wailin' an' +cryin' alood efter bonny bairn, the last o' his flock, oontimeous +his taen. + +"Half blin' wi' the nicht an' the snaw an' his ain tears, he cam at +last to the door o' the sheep-cot. An' what sud he see there but a +man stan'in' afore the door--straucht up, an' still i' the mirk! It +was 'maist fearsome to see onybody there--sae far frae ony +place--no to say upo' sic a nicht! The stranger was robed in some +kin' o' a plaid, like the gude--man himsel', but whether a lowlan' +or a hielan' plaid, he cudna tell. But the face o' the man--that +was ane no to be forgotten--an' that for the verra freenliness o' +'t! An' whan he spak, it was as gien a' the v'ices o' them 'at had +gane afore, war made up intil ane, for the sweetness an' the pooer +o' the same. + +"'What mak ye here in sic a storm, man?' he said. An' the soon' o' +his v'ice was aye safter nor the words o' his mooth. + +"'I come for a lamb,' answered he. + +"'What kin' o' a lamb?' askit the stranger. + +"'The verra best I can lay my han's upo' i' the cot,' answered he, +'for it's to lay afore my freens and neebours. I houp, sir, ye'll +come hame wi' me an' share o' 't. Ye s' be welcome.' + +"'Du yer sheep mak ony resistance whan ye tak the lamb? or when +it's gane, du they mak an ootcry!' + +"'No, sir--never.' + +"The stranger gae a kin' o' a sigh, an' says he, + +"'That's no hoo they trait me! Whan I gang to my sheep-fold, an' +tak the best an' the fittest, my ears are deavt an' my hert torn +wi' the clamours--the bleatin', an' ba'in' o' my sheep--my ain +sheep! compleenin' sair agen me;--an' me feedin' them, an' cleedin' +them, an' haudin' the tod frae them, a' their lives, frae the first +to the last! It's some oongratefu', an' some sair to bide.' + +"By this time the man's heid was hingin' doon; but whan the v'ice +ceased, he luikit up in amaze. The stranger was na there. Like ane +in a dream wharvin he kenned na joy frae sorrow, or pleesur' frae +pain, the man gaed into the cot, an' grat ower the heids o' the +'oo'y craters 'at cam croodin' aboot 'im; but he soucht the best +lamb nane the less, an' cairriet it wi' 'im. An' the next day he +came hame frae the funeral wi' a smile upo' the face whaur had been +nane for mony a lang; an' the neist Sunday they h'ard him singin' +i' the kirk as naebody had ever h'ard him sing afore. An' never +frae that time was there a moan or complaint to be h'ard frae the +lips o' aither o' the twa. They hadna a bairn to close their e'en +whan their turn sud come, but whaur there's nane ahin', there's the +mair to fin'." + +Grizzie ceased, and the others were silent, for the old legend had +touched the deepest in them. + +Many years after, Cosmo discovered that she had not told it quite +right, for having been brought up in the Lowlands, she did not +thoroughly know the ancient customs of the Highlands. But she had +told it well after her own fashion, and she could not have had a +fitter audience. [Footnote: See Mrs. Grant's Essays on the +Superstitions of the Highlanders.] + +"It's whiles i' the storm, whiles i' the desert, whiles i' the +agony, an' whiles i' the calm, whaurever he gets them richt them +lanes,'at the Lord visits his people--in person, as a body micht +say," remarked the laird, after a long pause. + +Cosmo did not get well so fast as he had begun to expect. Nothing +very definite seemed the matter with him; it was rather as if life +itself had been checked at the spring, therefore his senses dulled, +and his blood made thick and slow. A sleepy weariness possessed +him, in which he would lie for hours, supine and motionless, +desiring nothing, fearing nothing, suffering nothing, only loving. +The time would come when he must be up and doing, but now he would +not think of work; he would fancy himself a bird in God's nest--the +nest into which the great brother would have gathered all the +children of Jerusalem. Poems would come to him--little songs and +little prayers--spiritual butterflies, with wings whose spots +matched; sometimes humorous little parables concerning life and its +affairs would come; but the pity was that none of them would stay; +never, do what he might, could he remember so as to recall one of +them, and had to comfort himself with the thought that nothing true +can ever be lost; if one form of it go, it is that a better may +come in its place. He doubted if the best could be forgotten. A +thing may be invaluable, he thought, and the form in which it +presents itself worth but little, however at the moment it may +share the look of the invaluable within it. But happy is the +half-sleeper whose brain is a thoroughfare for lovely things--all +to be caught in the nets of Life, for Life is the one miser that +never loses, never can lose. + +When he was able to get up for a while every day, Grizzie yielded a +portion of her right of nursing to Aggie, and now that he was able +to talk a little, the change was a pleasant one. And now first the +laird began to discover how much there was in Aggie, and expressing +his admiration of her knowledge and good sense, her intellect and +insight, was a little surprised that Cosmo did not seem so much +struck with them as himself. Cosmo, however, explained that her +gifts were no discovery to him, as he had been aware of them from +childhood. + +"There are few like her, father," he said. "Mony's the time she's +hauden me up whan I was ready to sink." + +"The Lord reward her!" responded the laird. + +All sicknesses are like aquatic plants of evil growth: their hour +comes, and they wither and die, and leave the channels free. Life +returns--in slow, soft ripples at first, but not the less in +irresistible tide, and at last in pulses of mighty throb through +every pipe. Death is the final failure of all sickness, the +clearing away of the very soil in which the seed of the ill plant +takes root and prevails. + +By degrees Cosmo recovered strength, nor left behind him the peace +that had pervaded his weakness. The time for action was at hand. +For weeks he had been fed like the young ravens in the nest, and, +knowing he could do nothing, had not troubled himself with the +useless HOW; but it was time once more to understand, that he might +be ready to act. Mechanically almost, he opened his bureau: there +was not a penny there. He knew there could not be--except some +angel had visited it while he lay, and that he had not looked for. +He closed it, and sat down to think. There was no work to be had he +knew off there was little strength to do it with, had there been +any. As the spring came on, there would be labour in the fields, +and that he would keep in view, but the question was of present or +all but present need. One thing only he would not do. There were +many in the country around on friendly terms with his father and +himself, but his very soul revolted from any endeavour to borrow +money while he saw no prospect of repaying it. He would carry the +traditions of his family no further in that direction. Literally, +he would rather die. But rather than his father should want, he +would beg. "Where borrowing is dishonest," he said to himself, +"begging may be honourable. The man who scorns to accept a gift of +money, and does not scruple to borrow, knowing no chance of +repaying, is simply a thief; the man who has no way of earning the +day's bread, HAS A DIVINE RIGHT TO BEG." In Cosmo's case, however, +there was this difficulty: he could easily make a living of some +sort, would he but leave his father, and that he was determined not +to do. Before absolute want could arrive, they must have parted +with everything, and then he would take him to some city or town, +where they two would live like birds in a cage. No; he was not +ready yet to take his PACK and make the rounds of the farm-houses +to receive from each his dole of a handful of meal! Something must +be possible! But then again, what? + +Once more he fell a thinking; but it was only to find himself again +helplessly afloat where no shore of ways or means was visible. +Nothing but beggary in fact, and that for the immediate future, +showed in sight. Could it be that God verily intended for him this +last humiliation of all? But again, would such humiliation be equal +to that under which they had bowed for so many long years--the +humiliation of owing and not being able to pay? What a man gives, +he gives, but what a man lends, he lends expecting to be repaid! A +begger may be under endless obligation, but a debtor who cannot pay +is a slave! He may be God's free man all the while--that depends on +causes and conditions, but not the less is he his fellow's slave! +His slavery may be to him a light burden, or a sickening misery, +according to the character of his creditor--but, except indeed +there be absolute brotherhood between them, he is all the same a +slave! + +Again the immediately practical had vanished, lost in reasoning, +and once more he tried to return to it. But it was like trying to +see through a brick wall. No man can invent needs for others that +he may supply them. To write again to Mr. Burns would be too near +the begging on which he had not yet resolved. He never suspected +that the parcel he had left at the carrier's house was lying there +still--safe in his wife's press, under a summer-shawl! He could not +go to Mr. Simon, for he too was poor, and had now for some time +been far from well, fears being by the doctor acknowledged as to +the state of his lungs. He would go without necessaries even to +help them, and that was an insurmountable reason against +acquainting him with their condition! + +All at once a thought came to him: why should he not, for present +need, pledge the labour of his body in the coming harvest? That +would be but to act on a reasonable probability, nor need he be +ashamed to make the offer to any man who knew him enough to be +friendly. He would ask but a part of the fee in advance, and a +charitable or kindly disposed man would surely venture the amount +of risk involved! True, when the time came he might be as much in +want of money as he was now, and there would be little or none to +receive, but on the other hand, if he did not have help now, he +could never reach that want, and when he did, there might be other +help! Better beg then than now! He would make the attempt, and that +the first day he was strong enough to walk the necessary distance! +In the meantime, he would have a peep into the meal-chest! + +It stood in a dark corner of the kitchen, and he had to put his +hand in to learn its condition. He found a not very shallow layer +of meal in the bottom. How there could be so much after his long +illness, he scarcely dared imagine. He must ask Grizzie, he said to +himself, but he shrank in his heart from questioning her. + +There came now a spell of warm weather, and all the invalids +improved. Cosmo was able to go out, and every day had a little walk +by himself. Naturally he thought of the only other time in his life +when he first walked out after an illness. Joan had been so near +him then it scarce seemed anything could part them, and now she +seemed an eternity away! For months he had heard nothing of her. +She must be married, and, knowing well his feelings, must think it +kinder not to write! Then the justice of his soul turned to the +devotion of the two women who had in this trouble tended him, +though the half of it he did not yet know; and from that he turned +to the source of all devotion, and made himself strong in the +thought of the eternal love. + +From that time, the weather continuing moderate, he made rapid +progress, and the week following judged himself equal to a long +walk. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +HELP. + + +He had come to the resolve to carry his petition first to the +farmer in whose fields he had laboured the harvest before the last. +The distance was rather great, but he flattered himself he would be +able to walk home every night. In the present state of his +strength, however, he found it a long trudge indeed; and before the +house came in sight, was very weary. But he bore up and held on. + +"I was almost as ill-off," he said to himself, "when I came here +for work the first time, yet here I am--alive, and likely to work +again! It's just like going on and on in a dream, wondering what we +are coming to next." + +He was shown into the parlour, and had not waited long when the +farmer came. He scarcely welcomed him, but by degrees his manner +grew more cordial. Still the coldness with which he had been +received caused Cosmo to hesitate, and a pause ensued. The farmer +broke it. + +"Ye didna gie's the fawvour o' yer company last hairst!" he said. +"I wad hae thought ye micht hae f'un' yersel' fully mair at hame +wi' the like o' us nor wi' that ill-tongued vratch, Lord +Lick-my-loof! Nane o' 's tuik it ower weel 'at ye gied na's the +chance o' yer guid company." + +This explained his reception, and Cosmo made haste in his turn to +explain his conduct. + +"Ye may be sure," he answered, "it gaed some agen the grain to seek +wark frae HIM, an' I had no rizzon upon earth for no comin' to you +first but that I didna want to be sae far, at nicht especially, +frae my father. He's no the man he was." + +"Verra nait'ral!" responded the farmer heartily, and wondered in +himself whether any of his sons would have considered him so much. +"Weel," he went on, "I'm jist relieved to un'erstan' the thing; for +the lasses wad hae perswaudit me I hed gien ye some offence wi' my +free-spoken w'y, whan I'm sure naething cud hae been far'er frae +the thoucht o' my hert." + +"Indeed," said Cosmo, half rising in his eagerness, "I assure you, +Mr. Henderson, there is not a man from whom I should be less ready +to imagine offence than yourself. I do not know how to express my +feeling of the kindness with which you always treated me. Nor could +I have given you a better proof that I mean what I say than by +coming to you first, the moment I was able for the walk, with the +request I have now to make. Will you engage me for the coming +harvest, and pay me a part of the fee in advance? I know it is a +strange request, and if you refuse it, I doubt if there is another +to whom I shall venture to make it. I confess also that I have been +very ill, but I am now fairly on the mend, and there is a long time +to recover my strength in before the harvest. To tell you the +truth, we are much in want of a little money at the castle. We are +not greatly in debt now, but we have lost all our land; and a +house, however good, won't grow corn. Something in my mind tells me +that my father, unlikely as it may seem, will yet pay everything; +and anyhow we want to hold on as long as we can. I am sure, if you +were in our place, you would not be willing to part with the house +a moment before you were absolutely compelled." + +"But, laird," said the farmer, who had listened with the utmost +attention, "hoo can the thing be,'at amo' a' the great fowk ye hae +kent, there sud be nane to say,'Help yersel'? I canna un'erstan' +hoo the last o' sic an auld faimily sud na hae a han' held oot to +help them!" + +"It is not so very hard to explain," replied Cosmo. "Almost all my +father's OLD friends are dead or gone, and a man like him, +especially in straitened circumstances, does not readily make new +friends. Almost the only person he has been intimate with of late +years is Mr. Simon, whom I daresay you know. Then he has what many +people count peculiar notions--so peculiar, indeed, that I have +heard of some calling him a fool behind his back because he paid +themselves certain moneys his father owed them. I believe if he had +rich friends they would say it was no use trying to help such a +man." + +"Weel!" exclaimed the farmer, "it jist blecks me to ken hoo there +can be ony trowth i' the Bible, whan a man like that comes sae near +to beggin' his breid!" + +"He is very near it, certainly," assented Cosmo, "but why not he as +well as another?" + +"'Cause they tell me the Bible says the richteous man sall never +come to beg his breid." + +"Well, NEAR is not THERE. But I fancy there must be a mistake. The +writer of one of the psalms--I do not know whether David or +another, says he never saw the righteous forsaken or his seed +begging bread; but though he may not have seen it, another may." + +"Weel, I fancy gien he hed, he wadna hae been lang in puttin' a +stop til 't! Laird, gien a sma' maitter o' fifty poun' or sae wad +tide ye ower the trible--weel, ye cud pay me whan ye likit." + +It was a moment or two before Cosmo could speak. A long +conversation followed, rising almost to fierceness, certainly to +oaths, on the part of the farmer, because of Cosmo's refusal to +accept the offered loan. + +"I do see my way," persisted Cosmo, "to paying for my wages with my +work, but I see it to nothing more. Lend me two pounds, Mr. Henderson, +on the understanding that I am to work it out in the +harvest, and I shall be debtor to your kindness to all eternity; +but more I cannot and will not accept." + +Grumbling heavily, the farmer at length handed him the two pounds, +but obstinately refused any written acknowledgment or agreement. + +Neither of them knew that, all the time the friendly altercation +proceeded, there was Elsie listening at the door, her colour coming +and going like the shadows in a day of sun and wind. Entering at +its close she asked Cosmo to stop and take tea with them, and the +farmer following it up, he accepted the invitation, and indeed was +glad to make a good meal. Elsie was sorely disappointed that her +father had not succeeded in making him his debtor to a larger +extent, but the meal passed with pleasure to all, for the relief of +having two pounds in his pocket, and those granted with such +genuine kindness, put Cosmo in great spirits, and made him more +than usually agreeable. The old farmer wondered admiringly at the +spirit of the youth who in such hardship could yet afford to be +merry. But I cannot help thinking that a perfect faith would work +at last thorough good spirits, as well as everything else that is +good. + +Cosmo sat with his kind neighbours till the gloaming began to fall. +When he rose to go, they all rose with him, and accompanied him +fully half-way home. When they took their leave of him, and he was +again alone, his heart grew so glad that, weak as he yet was, and +the mists rising along his path, he never felt the slightest chill, +but trudged cheerily on, praying and singing and MAKING all the +way, until at length he was surprised to find how short it had +been. + +For a great part of it, after his friends left him, he had glimpses +now and then of some one before him that looked like Aggie, but the +distance between them gradually lengthened, and before he reached +home he had lost sight of her. When he entered the kitchen, Aggie +was there. + +"Was yon you upo' the ro'd afore me, Aggie?" he said. + +"Ay, was't." + +"What for didna ye bide?" + +"Ye had yer company the first half o' the ro'd, an' yer sangs the +last, an' I didna think ye wantit me." + +So saying she went up the stair. + +As Cosmo followed, he turned and put his hand into the meal-chest. +It was empty! There was not enough to make their supper. He smiled +in his heart, and said to himself, + +"The links of the story hold yet! When one breaks, the world will +drift." + +Going up to his father, he had to pass the door of his own room, +now occupied by James Gracie. As he drew near it, he heard the +voice of Aggie speaking to her grandfather. What she said he did +not know, but he heard the answer. + +"Lassie," said the old man, "ye can never see by (PAST) the Lord to +ken whaur he's takin' ye. Ye may jist as weel close yer e'en. His +garment spreads ower a' the ro'd, an' what we hae to du is to haud +a guid grip o' 't--no to try an' see ayont it." + +Cosmo hastened up, and told his father what he had overheard. + +"There's naething like faith for makin' o' poets, Cosmo!" said the +laird. "Jeames never appeart to me to hae mair o' what's ca'd +intellec' nor an ord'nar' share; but ye see the man 'at has faith +he's aye growin', an' sae may come to something even i' this warl'. An' +whan ye think o' the ages to come, truly it wad seem to maitter +little what intellec' a man may start wi'. I kenned mysel' ane 'at +in ord'nar' affairs was coontit little better nor an idiot,'maist +turn a prophet whan he gaed doon upo' his knees. Ay! fowk may lauch +at what they haena a glimp o', but it'll be lang or their political +economy du sae muckle for sic a man! The economist wad wuss his +neck had been thrawn whan he was born." + +Here Cosmo heard Grizzie come in, and went down to her. She was +sitting in his father's chair by the fire, and did not turn her +face when he spoke. She was either tired or vexed, he thought. +Aggie was also now in the kitchen again. + +"Here, Grizzie!" said Cosmo, "here's twa poun'; an' ye'll need to +gar't gang far'er nor it can, I'm thinkin', for I dinna ken whaur +we're to get the neist." + +"Ken ye whaur ye got the last?" muttered Grizzie, and made haste to +cover the words: + +"Whaur got ye that, Cosmo?" she said. + +"What gien I dinna tell ye, Grizzie?" he returned, willing to rouse +her with a little teazing. + +"That's as ye see proper, sir," she answered. "Naebody has a richt +to say til anither 'Whaur got ye that?' 'cep' they doobt ye hae +been stealin'." + +It was a somewhat strange answer, but there was no end to the +strange things Grizzie would say: it was one of her charms! Cosmo +told her at once where and how he had got the money; for with such +true comrades, although not yet did he know how true, he felt +almost that a secret would be a sin. + +But the moment Grizzie heard where Cosmo had engaged himself, and +from whom on the pledge of that engagement he had borrowed money, +she started from her chair, and cried, with clenched and +outstretched hand, + +"Glenwarlock, yoong sir, ken ye what ye're duin'?--The Lord +preserve's! he's an innocent!" she added, turning with an +expression of despair to Aggie, who regarded the two with a strange +look. + +"Grizzie!" cried Cosmo, in no little astonishment, "what on earth +gars ye luik like that at the mention o' ane wha has this moment +helpit us oot o' the warst strait ever we war in!" + +"Gien there had been naebody nearer hame to help ye oot o' waur +straits, it's waur straits ye wad be in. An' it's waur ye'll be in +yet, gien that man gets his wull o' ye!" + +"He's a fine, honest chiel'! An' for waur straits, Grizzie--are na +ye at the verra last wi' yer meal?" + +As he spoke he turned, and, in bodily reference to fact, went to +the chest into which he had looked but a few minutes before. To his +astonishment, there was enough in it for a good many meals! He +turned again, and stared at Grizzie. But she had once more seated +herself in his father's chair, with her back to him, and before he +could speak she went on thus: + +"Shame fa' him, say I,'at made his siller as a flesher i' the wast +wyn' o' Howglen, to ettle at a gentleman o' a thoosan' year for ane +o' his queans! But, please the Lord, we's haud clear o' 'im yet!" + +"Hootoot, Grizzie! ye canna surely think ony sic man wad regaird +the like o' me as worth luikin' efter for a son-in-law! He wadna be +sic a gowk!" + +"Gowk here, gowk there! he kens what ye are an' what ye're +worth--weel that! Hasna he seen ye at the scythe? Disna he ken +there's ten times mair to be made o' ae gentleman like you, wi'siller +at his back, nor ten common men sic as he's like to get for +his dothers? Weel kens he it's nae faut o' you or yours 'at ye're +no freely sae weel aff as some 'at oucht an' wull be waur, gien it +be the Lord's wull, or a' be dune! Disna he ken 'at Castle Warlock +itsel' wad be a warl's honour to ony leddy--no to say a lass +broucht up ower a slauchter-hoose? Shame upo' him an' his!" + +"Weel, Grizzie," rejoined Cosmo, "ye may say 'at ye like, but I +dinna believe he wad hae dune what he has dune" + +"Cha!" interrupted Grizzie; "what has he dune? Disna he ken the +word o' a Warlock's as guid as gowd? Disna he ken _your_ wark, +what wi' yer pride an' what wi' yer ill-placed graititude,'ill be +worth til 'im that o' twa men? The man's nae coof! He kens what +he's aboot! Haith, ye needna waur (_spend_) muckle graititude +upo' sic benefactions!" + +"To show you, Grizzie, that you are unfair to him, I feel bound to +tell you that he pressed on me the loan of fifty pounds." + +"I tell ye sae!" screamed Grizzie, starting again to her feet. "God +forbid ye took 'im at his offer!" + +"I did not," answered Cosmo; "but all the same--" + +"The Lord be praised for his abundant an' great mercy!" cried +Grizzie, more heartily than devoutly. "We may contrive to win ower +the twa poun', even sud ye no work it oot; but _fifty!_--the +Lord be aboot us frae ill! so sure's deith, ye wad hae had to tak +the lass!--Cosmo, ye canna but ken the auld tale o' muckle-moo'd +Meg?" + +"Weel that," replied Cosmo. "But ye'll alloo, Grizzie, times are +altert sin' the day whan the laird cud gie a ch'ice atween a wife +an' the wuddie! Mr. Hen'erson canna weel hang me gien. I sud say +NO." + +"Say ye NO, come o' the hangin' what like," rejoined Grizzie. + +"But, Grizzie," said Cosmo, "I wad fain ken whaur that meal i' the +kist cam frae. There was nane intil 't an hoor ago." + +With all her faults of temper and tongue, there was one evil word +Grizzie could not speak. In the course of a not very brief life she +had tried a good many times to tell a lie, but had never been able; +and now, determined not to tell where the meal had come from, she +naturally paused unprepared. It was but for a moment. Out came the +following utterance. + +"Some fowk says, sir,'at the age o' mirracles is ower. For mysel' I +dinna preten' to ony opingon; but sae lang as the needcessity was +the same, I wad be laith to think Providence wadna be consistent +wi' itsel'. Ye maun min' the tale, better nor I can tell't ye, +concernin' yon meal-girnel--muckle sic like, I daursay, as oor ain, +though it be ca'd a barrel i' the Buik--hit 'at never wastit, ye +ken, an'the uily-pig an' a'--ye'll min' weel--though what ony wuman +in her senses cud want wi' sic a sicht o' ile's mair nor I ever cud +faddom! Eh, but a happy wuman was she 'at had but to tak her bowl +an' gang to the girnel, as I micht tak my pail an' gang to the +wall! An' what for michtna the Almighty mak a meal-wall as weel's a +watter-wall, I wad like to ken! What for no a wall 'at sud rin +ile--or say milk, which wad be mair to the purpose? Ae thing maun +be jist as easy to him as anither--jist as ae thing's as hard to us +as anither! Eh, but we're helpless creturs!" + +"I' your w'y, Grizzie, ye wad keep us as helpless as ever, for ye +wad hae a' thing hauden to oor han', like to the bairnie in his +mither's lap! It's o' the mercy o' the Lord 'at he wad mak men an' +women o' 's--no haud's bairns for ever!" + +"It may be as ye say, Cosmo; but whiles I cud maist wuss I was a +bairn again, an' had to luik to my mither for a' thing." + +"An' isna that siclike as the Lord wad hae o' 's, Grizzie? We canna +aye be bairns to oor mithers--an' for me I wasna ane lang--but we +can an' maun aye be bairns to the great Father o' 's." + +"I hae an ill hert, I doobt, Cosmo, for I'm unco hard to content. +An' I'm ower auld noo, I fear, to mak muckle better o'. But maybe +some kinily body like yersel' 'ill tak me in han' whan I'm deid, +an' put some sense intil me!" + +"Ye hae sense eneuch, Grizzie, an' to spare, gien only ye wad--" + +"Guide my tongue a wee better, ye wad say! But little ye ken the +temptation o' ane 'at has but ae solitary wapon, to mak use o' that +same! An' the gift ye hae ye're no to despise; ye maun turn a' til +acoont." + +Cosmo did not care to reason with her further, and went back to his +father. + +Grizzie had gained her point; which was to turn him aside from +questions about the meal. + +For a little while they had now wherewith to live; and if it seem +to my reader that the horizon of hope was narrowing around them, it +does not follow that it must have seemed so to them. For what is +the extent of our merely rational horizon at any time? But for +faith and imagination it would be a narrow one indeed! Even what we +call experience is but a stupid kind of faith. It is a trusting in +impetus instead of in love. And those days were fashioning an +eternal joy to father and son, for they were loving each other a +little more ere each day's close, and were thus putting time, +despite of fortune, to its highest use. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + +A COMMON MIRACLE. + + +Until he was laid up, Cosmo had all the winter, and especially +after his old master was taken ill, gone often to see Mr. Simon. +The good man was now beginning, chiefly from the effects of his +complaint, to feel the approach of age; but he was cheerful and +hopeful as ever, and more expectant. As soon as he was able Cosmo +renewed his visits, but seldom stayed long with him, both because +Mr. Simon could not bear much talking, and because he knew his +father would be watching for his return. + +One day it had rained before sunrise, and a soft spring wind had +been blowing ever since, a soothing and persuading wind, that +seemed to draw out the buds from the secret places of the dry +twigs, and whisper to the roots of the rose-trees that their +flowers would be wanted by and by. And now the sun was near the +foot of the western slope, and there was a mellow, tearful look +about earth and sky, when Grizzie, entering the room where Cosmo +was reading to his father, as he sat in his easy chair by the +fireside, told them she had just heard that Mr. Simon had had a bad +night and was worse. The laird begged Cosmo to go at once and +inquire after him. + +The wind kept him company as he walked, flitting softly about him, +like an attendant that needed more motion than his pace would +afford, and seemed so full of thought and love, that, for the +thousandth time, he wondered whether there could be anything but +spirit, and what we call matter might not be merely the consequence +of our human way of looking at the wrong side of the golden tissue. +Then came the thought of the infinitude of our moods, of the hues +and shades and endless kinds and varieties of feeling, especially +in our dreams; and he said to himself "how rich God must be, since +from him we come capable of such inconceivable differences of +conscious life!" + +"How poor and helpless," he said to himself, "how mere a pilgrim +and a stranger in a world over which he has no rule, must he be who +has not God all one with him! Not otherwise can his life be free +save as moving in loveliest harmony with the will and life of the +only Freedom--that which wills and we are!" + +"How would it be," he thought again, "if things were to come and go +as they pleased in my mind and brain? Would that not be madness? +For is it not the essence of madness, that things thrust themselves +upon one, and by very persistence of seeming, compel and absorb the +attention, drowning faith and will in a false conviction? The soul +that is empty, swept, and garnished, is the soul which adorns +itself, where God is not, and where therefore other souls come and +go as they please, drawn by the very selfhood, and make the man the +slave of their suggestions. Oneness with the mighty All is at the +one end of life; distraction, things going at a thousand foolish +wills, at the other. God or chaos is the alternative; all thou +hast, or no Christ!" + +And as he walked thinking thus, the stream was by his side, +tumbling out its music as it ran to find its eternity. And the wind +blew on from the moist west, where the gold and purple had fallen +together in a ruined heap over the tomb of the sun. And the stars +came thinking out of the heavens, and the things of earth withdrew +into the great nest of the dark. And so he found himself at the +door of the cottage, where lay one of the heirs of all things, +waiting to receive his inheritance. + +But the news he heard was that the master was better; and the old +woman showed him at once to his room, saying she knew he would be +glad to see him. When he entered the study, in which, because of +his long illness and need of air, Mr. Simon lay, the room seemed to +grow radiant, filled with the smile that greeted him from the +pillow. The sufferer held out his hand almost eagerly. + +"Come, come!" he said; "I want to tell you something--a little +experience I have just had--an event of my illness. Outwardly it is +nothing, but to you it will not be nothing.--It was blowing a great +wind last night." + +"So my father tells me," answered Cosmo, "but for my part I slept +too sound to hear it." + +"It grew calm with the morning. As the light came the wind fell. +Indeed I think it lasted only about three hours altogether. + +"I have of late been suffering a good deal with my breathing, and +it has always been worst when the wind was high. Last night I lay +awake in the middle of the night, very weary, and longing for the +sleep which seemed as if it would never come. I thought of Sir +Philip Sidney, how, as he lay dying, he was troubled, because, for +all his praying, God would not let him sleep: it was not the want +of the sleep that troubled him, but that God would not give it him; +and I was trying hard to make myself strong to trust in God +whatever came to me, sleep or waking weariness or slow death, when +all at once up got the wind with a great roar, as if the prince of +the power of the air were mocking at my prayers. And I thought with +myself,'It is then the will of God that I shall neither sleep nor +lie at peace this night!' and I said,'Thy will be done!' and laid +myself out to be quiet, expecting, as on former occasions, my +breathing would begin to grow thick and hard, and by and by I +should have to struggle for every lungsful. So I lay waiting. But +still as I waited, I kept breathing softly. No iron band ringed +itself about my chest; no sand filled up the passages of my lungs! + +"The cottage is not very tight, and I felt the wind blowing all +about me as I lay. But instead of beginning to cough and wheeze, I +began to breathe better than before. Soon I fell fast asleep, and +when I woke I seemed a new man almost, so much better did I feel. +It was a wind of God, and had been blowing all about me as I slept, +renewing me! It was so strange, and so delightful! Where I dreaded +evil, there had come good! So, perchance, it will be when the time +which the flesh dreads is drawing nigh: we shall see the pale damps +of the grave approaching, but they will never reach us; we shall +hear ghastly winds issuing from the mouth of the tomb, but when +they blow upon us they shall be sweet--the waving of the wings of +the angels that sit in the antechamber of the hall of life, once +the sepulchre of our Lord. And when we die, instead of finding we +are dead, we shall have waked better!" + +It was an experience that would have been nothing to most men +beyond its relief, but to Peter Simon it was a word from the +eternal heart, which, in every true and quiet mood, speaks into the +hearts of men. When we cease listening to the cries of self-seeking +and self-care, then the voice that was there all the time enters +into our ears. It is the voice of the Father speaking to his child, +never known for what it is until the child begins to obey it. To +him who has not ears to hear God will not reveal himself: it would +be to slay him with terror. + +Cosmo sat a long time talking with his friend, for now there seemed +no danger of hurting him, so much better was he. It was late +therefore when he rose to return. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +DEFIANCE. + + +Aggie was in the kitchen when he entered. She was making the +porridge. + +"What's come o' Grizzie?" asked Cosmo. + +"Ye dinna like my parritch sae weel as hers!" returned Agnes. + +"Jist as weel, Aggie," answered Cosmo. + +"Dinna ye tell Grizzie that." + +"What for no?" + +"She wad be angert first, an' syne her hert wad be like to brak." + +"There's nae occasion to say't," conceded Cosmo. "But what's come +o' her the nicht?" he went on. "It's some dark, an' I doobt +she'll--" + +"The ro'd atween this an' the Muir's no easy to lowse," said Aggie. + +But the same instant her face flushed hotter than ever fire or +cooking made it; what she had said was in itself true, but what she +had not said, yet meant him to understand, was not true, for +Grizzie had gone nowhere near Muir o' Warlock. Aggie had never told +a lie in her life, and almost before the words were out of her +mouth, she felt as if the solid earth were sinking from under her +feet. She left the spurtle sticking in the porridge, and dropped +into the laird's chair. + +"What's the maitter wi' ye, Aggie?" said Cosmo, hastening to her in +alarm, for her face was now white, and her head was hanging down. + +"This is no to be borne!" she cried, and started to her feet. +"--Cosmo, I tellt ye a lee." + +"Aggie!" cried Cosmo, dismayed, "ye never tellt me a lee i' yer +life." + +"Never afore," she answered; "but I hae tellt ye ane noo--no to +live through! Grizzie's no gane to Muir o' Warlock." + +"What care I whaur Grizzie's gane!" rejoined Cosmo. "Tell me or no +tell me as ye like." + +Aggie burst into tears. + +"Haud yer tongue, Aggie," said Cosmo, trying to soothe her, himself +troubled with her trouble, for he too was sorry she should ALMOST +have told him a lie, and his heart was sore for her misery. Well he +knew how she must suffer, having done a thing so foreign to her +nature! "It COULD be little mair at the warst," he went on, "than a +slip o' the wull, seein' ye made sic haste to set it richt again. +For mysel', I s' bainish the thoucht o' the thing." + +"I thank ye, Cosmo. Ye wad aye du like the Lord himsel'. But +there's mair intil't. I dinna ken what to du or say. It's a sair +thing to stan' 'atween twa, an' no ken what to du ohn dune +mischeef--maybe wrang!--There's something it 'maist seems to me ye +hae a richt to ken, but I canna be sure; an yet--" + +She was interrupted by the hurried opening of the door. Grizzie +came staggering in, with a face of terror. + +"Tu wi' the door!" she cried, almost speechless, and sank in her +turn upon a chair, gasping for breath, and dropping at her feet a +canvas bag, about the size of a pillow-case. + +Cosmo closed the door as she requested, and Aggie made haste to get +her some water, which she drank eagerly. After a time of panting +and sighing, she seemed to come to herself, and rose, saying, as if +nothing had happened, + +"I maun see to the supper." + +Cosmo stooped and would have taken up the bag, but she pounced upon +it, and carried it with her to the corner of the fire, where she +placed it beyond her. In the meantime the porridge had begun to +burn. + +"Eh, sirs!" she cried, "the parritch'll be a' sung--no to mention +the waste o' guid meal! Aggie, hoo cud ye be sae careless!" + +"It was eneuch to gar onybody forget the pot to see ye come in like +that, Grizzie!" said Cosmo. + +"An' what'll ye say to the tale I bring ye!" rejoined Grizzie, as +she turned the porridge into a dish, careful not to scrape too hard +on the bottom of the pot. + +"Tell's a' aboot it, Grizzie, an' bena lang aither, for I maun gang +to my father." + +"Gang til 'im. Here's naebody wad keep ye frae 'im!" + +Cosmo was surprised at her tone, for although she took abundant +liberty with the young laird, he had not since boyhood known her +rude to him. + +"No till I hear yer tale, Grizzie," he answered. + +"An' I wad fain ken what ye'll say til't, for ye never wad alloo o' +kelpies; an' there's me been followed by a sure ane, this last +half-hoor--or it may be less!" + +"Hoo kenned ye it was a kelpie--it's maist as dark's pick?" + +"Kenned! quo' he? Didna I hear the deevil ahin' me--the tramp o' a' +the fower feet o' 'im, as gien they had been fower an' twinty!" + +"I won'er he didna win up wi' ye than, Grizzie!" suggested Cosmo. + +"Guid kens hoo he didna; I won'er mysel'. But I trow I ran; an' I +tak ye to witness I garred ye steik the door." + +"But they say," objected Cosmo, who could not fail to perceive from +what Aggie said that there was something going on which it behooved +him to know, "that the kelpie wons aye by some watter--side." + +"Weel, cam I no by the tarn o' the tap o' Stieve Know?" + +"What on earth was ye duin' there efter dark, Grizzie?" + +"What was I duin'? I saidna I was there efter dark, but the cratur +micht hae seen me pass weel eneueh. Wasna I ower the hill to my ain +fowk i' the How o' Hap? An' didna I come hame by Luck's Lift? Mair +by token, wadna the guidman o' that same hae me du what I haena +dune this twae year, or maybe twenty--tak a dram? An' didna I tak +it? An' was I no in need o' 't? An' didna I come hame a' the better +for 't?" + +"An' get a sicht o' the kelpy intil the bargain--eh, Grizzie?" +suggested Cosmo. + +"Hoots! gang awa up to the laird, an' lea' me to get my breath an' +your supper thegither," said Grizzie, who saw to what she had +exposed herself. "An' I wuss ye may see the neist kelpy yersel'! +Only whatever ye du, Cosmo, dinna m'unt upo' the back o' 'im, for +he'll cairry ye straucht hame til 's maister; an' we a' ken wha HE +is." + +"I'm no gaein'," said Cosmo, as soon as the torrent of her speech +allowed him room to answer, "till I ken what ye hae i' that pock o' +yours." + +"Hoot!" cried Grizzie, and snatching up the bag, held it behind her +back, "ye wad never mint at luikin' intil an auld wife's pock! What +ken ye what she michtna hae there?" + +"It luiks to me naither mair nor less nor a meal--pock," said +Cosmo. + +"Meal-pock!" returned Grizzie with contempt: "what neist!" + +He made another movement to seize the bag, but she caught the +sprutle from the empty porridge-pot and showed fight with it, in +genuine earnest beyond a doubt for the defence of her pock. +Whatever the secret was, it looked as if the pock were somehow +connected with it. Cosmo began to grow very uncomfortable. So +strange were his nascent suspicions that he dared not for a time +allow them to take shape in his brain lest they should thereby +start at once into the life of fact. His mind had, for the last few +days, been much occupied with the question of miracles. Why, he +thought with himself, should one believing there is in very truth a +live, thinking, perfect Power at the heart and head of affairs, +count it impossible that, in their great and manifest need, their +meal-chest should be supplied like that of the widow of Zarephath? +If he could believe the thing was done then, there could be nothing +absurd in hoping the thing might be done now. If it was possible +once, it was possible in the same circumstances always. It was +impossible, however, for him or any human being to determine +concerning any circumstances whether they were or were not the +same. Wherever the thing was not done, did it not follow that the +circumstances could not be the same? One thing he was able to +see--that, in the altered relations of man's mind to the facts of +Nature, a larger faith is necessary to believe in the constantly +present and ordering will of the Father of men, than in the unusual +phenomenon of a miracle. In the meantime it was a fact that they +had all hitherto had their daily bread. + +But now this strange behaviour of Grizzie set him thinking of +something very different. And why did not the jeweller make some +reply to his request concerning the things he had sent him? He said +to himself for the hundredth time that he must have found it +impossible to do anything with them, and have delayed writing from +unwillingness to cause him disappointment, but he could not help a +growing soreness that his friend should take no notice of the +straits he had confessed himself in. The conclusion of the whole +matter was, that it must be the design of Providence to make him +part with the last clog that fettered him; he was to have no ease +in life until he had yielded the castle! If it were so, then the +longer he delayed the greater would be the loss. To sell everything +in it first would but put off the evil day, preparing for them so +much the more poverty when it should come; whereas if he were to +part with the house at once, and take his father where he could +find work, they would be able to have some of the old things about +them still, to tincture strangeness with home. The more he thought +the more it seemed his duty to put a stop to the hopeless struggle +by consenting in full and without reserve to the social degradation +and heart-sorrow to which it seemed the will of God to bring them. +Then with new courage he might commence a new endeavour, no more on +the slippery slope of descent, but with the firm ground of the +Valley of Humiliation under their feet. Long they could not go on +as now, and he was ready to do whatever was required of him, only +he wished God would make it plain. The part of discipline he liked +least--a part of which doubtless we do not yet at all understand +the good or necessity--was uncertainty of duty, the uncertainty of +what it was God's will he should do. But on the other hand, perhaps +the cause of that uncertainty was the lack of perfect readiness; +perhaps all that was wanted to make duty plain was absolute will to +do it. + +These and other such thoughts went flowing and ebbing for hours in +his mind that night, until at last he bethought himself that his +immediate duty was plain enough--namely, to go to sleep. He yielded +his consciousness therefore to him from whom it came, and did +sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER L. + +DISCOVERY AND CONFESSION. + + +In the morning he woke wondering whether God would that day let him +know what he had to do. He was certain he would not have him leave +his father; anything else in the way of trouble he could believe +possible. + +The season was now approaching the nominal commencement of summer, +but the morning was very cold. He went to the window. Air and earth +had the look of a black frost--the most ungenial, the most killing +of weathers. Alas! that was his father's breathing: his bronchitis +was worse! He made haste to fetch fuel and light the fire, then +leaving him still asleep, went down stairs. He was earlier than +usual, and Grizzie was later; only Aggie was in the kitchen. Her +grandfather was worse also. Everything pointed to severer +straitening and stronger necessity: this must be how God was +letting him know what he had to do! + +He sat down and suddenly, for a moment, felt as if he were sitting +on the opposite bank of the Warlock river, looking up at the house +where he was born and had spent his days--now the property of +another, and closed to him forever! Within those walls he could not +order the removal of a straw! could not chop a stick to warm his +father! "The will of God be done!" he said, and the vision was +gone. + +Aggie was busy getting his porridge ready--which Cosmo had by this +time learned to eat without any accompaniment--and he bethought +himself that here was a chance of questioning her before Grizzie +should appear. + +"Come, Aggie," he said abruptly, "I want to ken what for Grizzie +was in sic a terror aboot her pock last nicht. I'm thinkin' I hae a +richt to ken." + +"I wish ye wadna speir," returned Aggie, after but a moment's +pause. + +"Aggie," said Cosmo, "gien ye tell me it's nane o' my business, I +winna speir again." + +"Ye _are_ guid, Cosmo, efter the w'y I behaved to ye last nicht," she +answered, with a tremble in her voice. + +"Dinna think o' 't nae mair, Aggie. To me it is as gien it had +never been. My hert's the same to ye as afore--an' justly. I +believe I un'erstan' ye whiles 'maist as weel as ye du yersel'." + +"I houp whiles ye un'erstan' me better," answered Aggie. "Sair do I +m'urn 'at the shaidow o' that lee ever crossed my rain'." + +"It was but a shaidow," said Cosmo. + +"But what wad ye think o' yersel', gien it had been you 'at sae +near--na, I winna nibble at the trowth ony mair--gien it had been +you, I wull say't,'at lee'd that lee--sic an' ae sas it was?" + +"I wad say to mysel' 'at wi' God's help I was the less lik'ly ever +to tell a lee again; for that noo I un'erstude better hoo a +temptation micht come upon a body a' at ance, ohn gien 'im time to +reflec'--an' sae my responsibility was the greater." + +"Thank ye, Cosmo," said Aggie humbly, and was silent. + +"But," resumed Cosmo, "ye haena tellt me yet 'at it's nane o' my +business what Grizzie had in her pock last nicht." + +"Na, I cudna tell ye that,'cause it wadna be true. It is yer +business." + +"What was i' the pock than?" + +"Weel, Cosmo, ye put me in a great diffeeculty; for though I never +said to Grizzie I wadna tell, I made nae objection--though at the +time I didna like it--whan she tellt me what she was gaein' to du; +an' sae I canna help fearin' it may be fause to her to tell ye. +Besides, I hae latten 't gang sae lang ohn said a word,'at the guid +auld body cud never jaloose I wad turn upon her noo an' tell!" + +"You are dreadfully mysterious, Aggie," said Cosmo, "and in truth +you make me more than a little uncomfortable. What can it be that +has been going on so long, and had better not be told me! Have I a +right to know or have I not?" + +"Ye hae a richt to ken, I do believe, else I wadna tell ye," +answered Aggie. "I was terrified, frae the first, to think what ye +wad say til 't! But ye see, what was there left? You, an' the +laird, an' my father was a' laid up thegither, heaps o' things +wantit, the meal dune, an' life depen'in' upo' fowk haein' what +they cud ait an' drink!" + +As she spoke, shadowy horror was deepening to monster presence; the +incredible was gradually assuming shape and fact; the hair of +Cosmo's head seemed rising up. He asked no more questions, but sat +waiting the worst. + +"Dinna be ower hard upo' Grizzie an'me, Cosmo," Aggie went on. "It +wasna for oorsel's we wad hae dune sic a thing; an' maybe there was +nane but them we did it for 'at we wad hae been able to du't for. +But I hae no richt to say WE. Blame, gien there be ony, I hae my +share o'; but praise, gien there be ony, she has't a'; for, that +the warst michtna come to the warst, at the last she tuik the +meal-pock," said Aggie, and burst into tears as she said it, "an' +gaed oot wi' 't." + +"Good God!" cried Cosmo, and for some moments was dumb. "Lassie!" +he said at length, in a voice that was not like his own, "didna ye +ken i' yer ain sowl we wad raither hae dee'd?" + +"There'tis! That's jist what for Grizzie wadna hae ye tellt! But +dinna think she gaed to ony place whaur she was kent," sobbed +Agnes, "or appeart to ony to be ither than a puir auld body 'at +gaed aboot for hersel'. Dinna think aither 'at ever she tellt a +lee, or said a word to gar fowk pity her. She had aye afore her the +possibility o' bein' ca'd til accoont some day. But I'm thinkin' +gien ye had applyt to her an' no to me, ye wad hae h'ard anither +mak o' a defence frae mine! Ae thing ye may be sure o'--there's no +a body a hair the wiser." + +"What difference does that make?" cried Cosmo. "The fact remains." + +"Hoot, Cosmo!" said Agnes, with a revival of old authority, "ye're +takin' the thing in a fashion no worthy o' a philosopher--no to say +a Christian. Ye tak it as gien there was shame intil 't! An' gien +there wasna shame, I daur ye to priv there can be ony disgrace! +Gien ye come to that wi' 't, hoo was the Lord o' a' himself +supportit whan he gaed aboot cleanin' oot the warl'? Wasna it the +women 'at gaed wi' 'im 'at providit a' thing?" + +"True; but that was very different! They knew him, all of them, and +loved him--knew that he was doing what no money could pay for; that +he was working himself to death for them and for their people--that +he was earning the whole world. Or at least they had a far off +notion that he was doing as never man did, for they knew he spake +as never man spake. Besides there was no begging there. He never +asked them for anything."--Here Aggie shook her head in unbelief, +but Cosmo went on.--"And those women, some of them anyhow, were +rich, and proud to do what they did for the best and grandest of +men. But what have we done for the world that we should dare look +to it to help us?" + +"For that maitter, Cosmo, are na we a' brithers an' sisters? A' +body's brithers an' sisters wi' a' body. It's but a kin' o' a some +mean pride 'at wadna be obleeged to yer ain fowk, efter ye hae dune +yer best. Cosmo! ilka han'fu' o' meal gi'en i' this or ony hoose by +them 'at wadna in like need accep' the same, is an affront frae +brither to brither. Them 'at wadna tak, I say, has no richt to +gie." + +"But nobody knew the truth of where their handful of meal was +going. They thought they were giving it to a poor old woman, when +they were in fact giving it to men with a great house over their +heads. It's a disgrace, an' hard to beir, Aggie!" + +"'Deed the thing's hard upon 's a'! but whaur the disgrace is, I +will not condescen' to see. Men in a muckle hoose! Twa o' them +auld, an' a' three i' their beds no fit to muv! Div ye think +there's ane o' them 'at gied to Grizzie,'at wad hae gi'en +less--though what less nor the han'fu' o' meal, which was a' she +ever got, it wad be hard to imaigine--had they kent it was for the +life o' auld Glenwarlock--a name respeckit, an' mair nor respeckit, +whaurever it's h'ard?--or for the life o' the yoong laird, vroucht +to deith wi' labourers' wark, an' syne 'maist smoored i' storm?--or +for auld Jeames Gracie,'at's led a God-fearin' life till he's +'maist ower auld to live ony langer? I say naething aboot Grizzie +an' me, wha cud aye tak care o' oorsel's gien we hadna three dowie +men to luik efter. We did oor best, but whan a' oor ain siller was +awa' efter the lave, we cudna win awa' oorsel's to win mair. Gien +you three cud hae dune for yersel's, we wad hae been sen 'in' ye +hame something." + +"You tell me," said Cosmo, as if in a painful dream, through which +flashed lovely lights, "that you and Grizzie spent all your own +money upon us, and then Grizzie went out and begged for us?" + +"'Deed there's no anither word for't--nor was there ae thing ither +to be dune!" Aggie drew herself up, and went on with solemnity. +"Div ye think, Cosmo, whaur heid or hert or fit or han' cud du +onything to waur aff want or tribble frae you or the laird,'at +Grizzie or mysel' wad be wantin' that day? I beg o' yer grace ye +winna lay to oor chairge what we war driven til. As Grizzie says, +we war jist at ane mair wi' desperation." + +Cosmo's heart was full. He dared not speak. He came to Aggie, and +taking her hand, looked her in the face with eyes full of tears. +She had been pale as sun-browned could be, but now she grew red as +a misty dawn. Her eyes fell, and she began to pull at the hem of +her apron. Grizzie's step was on the stair, and Cosmo, not quite +prepared to meet her, walked out. + +The morning was neither so black nor so cold as he had imagined it. +He went into the garden, to the nook between the two blocks, there +sat down, and tried to think. The sun was not far above the +horizon, and he was in the cold shade of the kitchen-tower, but he +felt nothing, and sat there motionless. The sun came southward, +looked round the corner, and found him there. He brought with him a +lovely fresh day. The leaves were struggling out, and the birds had +begun to sing. Ah! what a day was here, had the hope of the boy +been still swelling in his bosom! But the decree had gone forth! no +doubt remained! no refuge of uncertainty was left! The house must +follow the land! Castle Warlock and the last foothold of soil must +go, that wrong should not follow ruin! Were those divine women to +spend money, time, and labour, that he and his father should hold +what they had no longer any right to hold? Or in beggary, were they +to hide themselves in the yet lower depth of begging by proxy, in +their grim stronghold, living upon unacknowledged charity, as their +ancestors on plunder! He dared not tell his father what he had +discovered until he had taken at least the first step towards +putting an end to the whole falsehood. To delay due action was of +all things what Cosmo dreaded; and as the loss mainly affected +himself, the yielding of the castle must primarily be his deed and +not his father's. He rose at once to do it. + +The same moment the incubus of Grizzie's meal-pock was lifted from +his bosom. The shame was, if shame was any, that they should have +been living in such a house while the thing was done. When the +house was sold, let people say what they would! In proportion as a +man cares to do what he ought, he ceases to care how it may be +judged. Of all things why should a true man heed the unjust +judgment? + +"If there be any stain upon us," he said to himself, "God will see +that we have the chance of wiping it out!" + +With that he got over gate and wall, and took his way along +Grizzie's path, once more, for the time at least, an undisputed +possession of the people. + +But while he was thinking in the garden, Grizzie, who knew from +Aggie that her secret was such no more, was in dire distress in the +kitchen, fearing she had offended the young laird beyond remedy. In +great anxiety she kept going every minute to the door, to see if he +were not coming in to have his breakfast. But the first she saw of +him was his back, as he leaped from the top of the wall. She ran +after him to the gate. + +"Sir! sir!" she cried, "come back; come back, an' I'll gang doon +upo' my auld knees to beg yer pardon." + +Cosmo turned the moment he heard her, and went back. + +When he reached the wall, over the top of the gate he saw Grizzie +on her knees upon the round paving stones of the yard, stretching +up her old hands to him, as if he were some heavenly messenger just +descended, whose wrath she deprecated. He jumped over wall and +gate, ran to her, and lifted her to her feet, saying, + +"Grizzie, wuman, what are ye aboot! Bless ye, Grizzie, I wad 'maist +as sune strive wi' my ain mither whaur she shines i' glory, as wi' +you!" + +Grizzie's face began to work like that of a child in an agony +between pride and tears, just ere he breaks into a howl. She +gripped his arm hard with both hands, and at length faltered out, +gathering composure as she proceeded, + +"Cosmo, ye're like an angel o' God to a' 'at hae to du wi' ye! Eh, +sic an accoont o' ye as I'll hae to gie to the mither o' ye whan I +win to see her! For surely they'll lat me see her, though they may +weel no think me guid eneuch to bide wi' her up there, for as lang +as we was thegither doon here! Tell me, sir, what wad ye hae me du. +But jist ae thing I maun say:--gien I hadna dune as I did du, I do +not see hoo we cud hae won throu' the winter." + +"Grizzie," said Cosmo, "I ken ye did a' for the best, an' maybe it +was the best. The day may come, Grizzie, whan we'll gang thegither +to ca' upo' them 'at pat the meal i' yer pock, an' return them +thanks for their kin'ness." + +"Eh, na, sir! That wad never du! What for sud they ken onything +aboot it! They war jist kin'-like at lairge, an' to naebody in +partic'lar, like the man wi' his sweirin'. They gae to me jist as +they wad to ony unco beggar wife. It was to me they gae't, no to +you. Lat it a' lie upo' me." + +"That canna be, Grizzie," said Cosmo. "Ye see ye're ane o' the +faimily, an' whatever ye du, I maun haud my face til." + +"God bless ye, sir!" exclaimed Grizzie, and turned towards the +house, entirely relieved and satisfied. + +"But eh, sir!" she cried, turning again, "ye haena broken yer fast +the day!" + +"I'll be back in a feow minutes, an' mak a brakfast o' 't by +or'nar'," answered Cosmo, and hastened away up the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + +IT IS NAUGHT, SAITH THE BUYER. + + +When Cosmo reached the gate of his lordship's policy, he found it +closed, and although he rang the bell, and called lustily to the +gate-keeper, no one appeared. He put a hand on the top of the gate, +and lightly vaulted over it. But just as he lighted, who should +come round a bend in the drive a few yards off, but Lord +Lick-my-loof himself, out for his morning walk! His irritable +cantankerous nature would have been annoyed at sight of anyone +treating his gate with such disrespect, but when he saw who it was +that thus made nothing of it--clearing it with as much contempt as +a lawyer would a quibble not his own--his displeasure grew to +indignation and anger. + +"I beg your pardon, my lord," said Cosmo, taking the first word +that apology might be immediate, "I could make no one hear me, and +therefore took the liberty of describing a parabola over your +gate." + +"A verra ill fashiont parabola in my judgment, Mr. Warlock! I fear +you have been learning of late to think too little of the rights of +property." + +"If I had put my foot on your new paint, my lord, I should have +been to blame; but I vaulted clean over, and touched nothing more +than if the gate had been opened to me." + +"I'll have an iron gate!" + +"Not on my account, my lord, I hope; for I have come to ask you to +put it out of my power to offend any more, by enabling me to leave +Glenwarlock." + +"Well?" returned his lordship, and waited. + +"I find myself compelled at last," said Cosmo, not without some +tremor in his voice, which he did his best to quench, "to give you +the refusal, according to your request, of the remainder of my +father's property." + +"House and all?" + +"Everything except the furniture." + +"Which I do not want." + +A silence followed. + +"May I ask if your lordship is prepared to make me an offer?--or +will you call on my father when you have made up your mind?" + +"I will give two hundred pounds for the lot." + +"Two hundred pounds!" repeated Cosmo, who had not expected a large +offer, but was unprepared for one so small; "why, my lord, the bare +building material would be worth more than that!" + +"Not to take it down. I might as well blast it fresh from the +quarry. I know the sort of thing those walls of yours are! +Vitrified with age, by George! But I don't want to build, and +standing the place is of no use to me. I should but let it crumble +away at its leisure!" + +Cosmo's dream rose again before his mind's eye; but it was no more +with pain; for if the dear old place was to pass from their hands, +what other end could be desired for it! + +"But the sum you mention, my lord, would not, after paying the +little we owe, leave us enough to take us from the place!" + +"That I should be sorry for; but as to paying, many a better man +has never done that. You have my offer: take it or leave it. You'll +not get half as much if it come to the hammer. To whom else would +it be worth anything, bedded in my property? If I say I don't want +it, see if anybody will!" + +Cosmo's heart sank afresh. He dared not part with the place off +hand on such terms, but must consult his father: his power of +action was for the time exhausted; he could do no more alone--not +even to spare his father. + +"I must speak to the laird," he said. "I doubt if he will accept +your offer." + +"As he pleases. But I do not promise to let the offer stand. I make +it now--not to-morrow, or an hour hence." + +"I must run the risk," answered Cosmo. "Will you allow me to jump +the gate?" + +But his lordship had a key, and preferred opening it. + +When Cosmo reached his father's room, he found him not yet thinking +of getting up, and sat down and told him all--to what straits they +were reduced; what Grizzie had felt herself compelled to do in his +illness; how his mind and heart and conscience had been exercised +concerning the castle; how all his life, for so it seemed now, the +love of it had held him to the dust; where and on what errand he +had been that morning, with the result of his interview with Lord +Lick-my-loof. He had fought hard, he said, and through the grace of +God had overcome his weakness--so far at least that it should no +more influence his action; but now he could go no further without +his father. He was equal to no more. + +"I would not willingly be left out of your troubles, my son," said +the old man, cheerfully. "Leave me alone a little. There is one, +you know, who is nearer to each of us than we are to each other: I +must talk to him--your father and my father, in whom you and I are +brothers." + +Cosmo bowed in reverence, and withdrew. + +After the space of nearly half an hour, he heard the signal with +which his father was in the habit of calling him, and hastened to +him. + +The laird held out his old hand to him. + +"Come, my son," he said, "and let us talk together as two of the +heirs of all things. It's unco easy for me to regaird wi' +equanimity the loss o' a place I am on the point o' leavin' for the +hame o' a' hames--the dwellin' o' a' the loves, withoot the dim +memory or foresicht o' which--I'm thinkin' they maun be aboot the +same thing--we could never hae lo'ed this auld place as we du, an' +whaur, ance I'm in, a'thing doon here maun dwindle ootworthied by +reason o' the glory that excelleth--I dinna mean the glory o' +pearls an' gowd, or even o' licht, but the glory o' love an' +trowth. But gien I've ever had onything to ca' an ambition, Cosmo, +it has been that my son should be ane o' the wise, wi' faith to +believe what his father had learned afore him, an' sae start +farther on upo' the narrow way than his father had startit. My +ambition has been that my endeavours and my experience should in +such measure avail for my boy, as that he should begin to make his +own endeavours and gather his own experience a little nearer that +perfection o' life efer which oor divine nature groans an' cries, +even while unable to know what it wants. Blessed be the voice that +tells us we maun forsake all, and take up ovir cross, and follow +him, losing our life that we may find it! For whaur wad he hae us +follow him but til his ain hame, to the verra bosom o' his God an' +oor God, there to be ane wi' the Love essential!" + +Such a son as Cosmo could not listen to such a father saying such +things, and not drop the world as if it were no better than the +burnt out cinder of the moon. + +"When men desire great things, then is God ready to hear them," he +said; "and so it is, I think, father, that he has granted your +desires for me: I desire nothing but to fulfil my calling." + +"Then ye can pairt wi' the auld hoose ohn grutten?" + +"As easy, father, as wi' a piece whan I wasna hungry. I do not say +that another mood may not come, for you know the flesh lusteth +against the spirit as well as the spirit against the flesh; but in +my present mood of light and peace, I rejoice to part with the +house as a victory of the spirit. Shall I go to his lordship at +once and accept his offer? I am ready." + +"Do, my son. I think I have not long to live, and the money, though +little, is large in this, that it will enable me to pay the last of +my debts, and die in the knowledge that I leave you a free man. You +will easily provide for yourself when I am gone, and I know you +will not forget Grizzie. For Jeames Gracie, he maun hae his share +o' the siller because o' the croft: we maun calculate it fairly. +He'll no want muckle mair i' this warl'. Aggie 'ill be as safe's an +angel ony gait. An', Cosmo, whatever God may mean to du wi' you i' +this warl', ye'll hae an abundant entrance ministered to ye intil +the kingdom' o' oor Lord an' Saviour. Wha daur luik for a better +fate nor that o' the Lord himsel'! But there was them 'at by faith +obtained kingdoms, as weel as them wha by faith were sawn asunder: +they war baith martyrdoms; an' whatever God sen's, we s' tak." + +"Then you accept the two hundred for croft and all, father?" + +"Dinna ettle at a penny more; he micht gang back upo' 't. Regaird +it as his final offer." + +Cosmo rose and went, strong-hearted, and without a single thought +that pulled back from the sacrifice. There was even a certain +pleasure in doing the thing just because in another and lower mood +it would have torn his heart: the spirit was rejoicing against the +flesh. To be rid of the castle would be to feel, far off, as the +young man would have felt had he given all to the poor and followed +the master. With the strength of a young giant he strode along. + +When he reached the gate, there was my lord leaning over it. + +"I thought you would be back soon! I knew the old cock would have +more sense than the young one; and I didn't want my gate scrambled +over again," he said, but without moving to open it. + +"My father will take your lordship's offer," said Cosmo. + +"I was on the point of making a fool of myself, and adding another +fifty to be certain of getting rid of you; but I came to the +conclusion it was a piece of cowardice, and that, as I had so long +stood the dirty hovel at my gate because I couldn't help it, I +might just as well let you find your own way out of the parish." + +"I am sure from your lordship's point of view you were right," said +Cosmo. "We shall content ourselves, anyhow, with the two hundred." + +"Indeed you will not! Did I not tell you I would not be bound by +the offer? I have changed my mind, and mean to wait for the sale." + +"I beg your pardon. I did not quite understand your lordship." + +"You do now, I trust!" + +"Perfectly, my lord," replied Cosmo, and turning away left his +lordship grinning over the gate. But he had a curious look, almost +as if he were a little ashamed of himself--as if he had only been +teasing the young fellow, and thought perhaps he had gone too far. +For Cosmo, in such peace was his heart, that he was not even angry +with the man. + +On his way home, the hope awoke, and began once more to whisper +itself, that they might not be able to sell the place at all; that +some other way would be provided for their leaving it; and that, +when he was an old man, he would be allowed to return to die in it. +But up started his conscience, jealously watchful lest hope should +undermine submission, or weaken resolve. God MIGHT indeed intend +they should not be driven from the old house! but he kept Abraham +going from place to place, and never let him own a foot of land, +except so much as was needful to bury his dead. And there was our +Lord: he had not a place to lay his head, and had to go out of +doors to pray to his father in secret! The only things to be +anxious about were, that God's will should be done, and that it +should not be modified by any want of faith or obedience or +submission on his part. Then it would be God's, very own will that +was done, and not something composite, in part rendered necessary +by his opposition. If God's pure will was done, he must equally +rejoice whether that will took or gave the castle! + +And so he returned to his father. + +When he told him the result of his visit, the laird expressed no +surprise. + +"He maketh the wrath o' man to praise him," he said. "This will be +for our good." + +The whole day after, there was not between them another allusion to +the matter. Cosmo read to his father a ballad he had just written. +The old man was pleased with it; for what most would have counted a +great defect in Cosmo's imagination was none to him--this namely, +that he never could get room for it in this world; to his way of +feeling, the end of things never came here; what end, or seeming +end came, was not worth setting before his art as a goal for which +to make; in its very nature it was no finis at all, only the merest +close of a chapter. + +This was the ballad, in great part the result of a certain talk +with Mr. Simon. + + + The miser he lay on his lonely bed, + Life's candle was burning dim, + His heart in his iron chest was hid, + Under heaps of gold and a well locked lid, + And whether it were alive or dead, + It never troubled him. + + Slowly out of his body he crept, + Said he, "I am all the same! + Only I want my heart in my breast; + I will go and fetch it out of the chest." + Swift to the place of his gold he stept-- + He was dead but had no shame! + + He opened the lid--oh, hell and night! + For a ghost can see no gold; + Empty and swept--not a coin was there! + His heart lay alone in the chest so bare! + He felt with his hands, but they had no might + To finger or clasp or hold! + + At his heart in the bottom he made a clutch-- + A heart or a puff-ball of sin? + Eaten with moths, and fretted with rust, + He grasped but a handful of dry-rotted dust: + It was a horrible thing to touch, + But he hid it his breast within. + + And now there are some that see him sit + In the charnel house alone, + Counting what seems to him shining gold, + Heap upon heap, a sum ne'er told: + Alas, the dead, how they lack of wit! + They are not even bits of bone! + + Another miser has got his chest, + And his painfully hoarded store; + Like ferrets his hands go in and out, + Burrowing, tossing the gold about; + And his heart too is out of his breast, + Hid in the yellow ore. + + Which is the better--the ghost that sits + Counting shadowy coin all day, + Or the man that puts his hope and trust + In a thing whose value is only his lust? + Nothing he has when out he flits + But a heart all eaten away. + +That night, as he lay thinking, Cosmo resolved to set out on the +morrow for the city, on foot, and begging his way if necessary. +There he would acquaint Mr. Burns with the straits they were in, +and require of him his best advice how to make a living for himself +and his father and Grizzie. As for James and Agnes, they might stay +at the castle, where he would do his best to help them. As soon as +his father had had his breakfast, he would let him know his +resolve, and with his assent, would depart at once. His spirits +rose as he brooded. What a happy thing it was that Lord +Lick-my-loof had not accepted their offer! all the time they saw +themselves in a poor lodging in a noisy street, they would know +they had their own strong silent castle waiting to receive them, as +soon as they should be able to return to it! Then the words came to +him: "Here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come." + +The special discipline for some people would seem to be that they +shall never settle down, or feel as if they were at home, until +they are at home in very fact. + +"Anyhow," said Cosmo to himself, "such a castle we have!" + +To be lord of space, a man must be free of all bonds to place. To +be heir of all things, his heart must have no THINGS in it. He must +be like him who makes things, not like one who would put everything +in his pocket. He must stand on the upper, not the lower side of +them. He must be as the man who makes poems, not the man who +gathers books of verse. God, having made a sunset, lets it pass, +and makes such a sunset no more. He has no picture-gallery, no +library. What if in heaven men shall be so busy growing, that they +have not time to write or to read! + +How blessed Cosmo would live, with his father and Grizzie and his +books, in the great city--in some such place as he had occupied +when at the university! The one sad thing was that he could not be +with his father all day; but so much the happier would be the +home-coming at night! Thus imagining, he fell fast asleep. + +He dreamed that he had a barrow of oranges, with which he had been +going about the streets all day, trying in vain to sell them. He +was now returning home, the barrow piled, as when he set out in the +morning, with the golden fruit. He consoled himself however with +the thought, that his father was fond of oranges, and now might +have as many as he pleased. But as he wheeled the barrow along, it +seemed to grow heavier and heavier, and he feared his strength was +failing him, and he would never get back to his father. Heavier and +heavier it grew, until at last, although he had it on the +pavement--for it was now the dead of the night--he could but just +push it along. At last he reached the door, and having laboriously +wheeled it into a shed, proceeded to pick from it a few of the best +oranges to take up to his father. But when he came to lift one from +the heap, lo, it was a lump of gold! He tried another and another: +every one of them was a lump of solid gold. It was a dream-version +of the golden horse. Then all at once he said to himself, nor knew +why, "My father is dead!" and woke in misery. It was many moments +before he quite persuaded himself that he had but dreamed. He rose, +went to his father's bed-side, found him sleeping peacefully, and +lay down comforted, nor that night dreamed any more. + +"What," he said to himself, "would money be to me without my +father!" + +Some of us shrink from making plans because experience has shown us +how seldom they are realized. Not the less are the plans we do make +just as subject to overthrow as the plans of the most prolific and +minute of projectors. It was long since Cosmo had made any, and the +resolve with which he now fell asleep was as modest as wise man +could well cherish; the morning nevertheless went differently from +his intent and expectation. + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +AN OLD STORY. + + +He was roused before sunrise by his father's cough. After a bad +fit, he was very weary and restless. Now, in such a condition, +Cosmo could almost always put him to sleep by reading to him, and +he therefore got a short story, and began to read. At first it had +the desired effect, but in a little while he woke, and asked him to +go on. The story was of a king's ship so disguising herself that a +pirate took her for a merchant-man; and Cosmo, to whom it naturally +recalled the Old Captain, made some remark about him. + +"You mustn't believe," said his father, "all they told you when a +boy about that uncle of ours. No doubt he was a rough sailor +fellow, but I do not believe there was any ground for calling him a +pirate. I don't suppose he was anything worse than a privateer, +which, God knows, is bad enough. I fancy, however, for the most of +his sea-life he was captain of an East Indiaman, probably trading +on his own account at the same time. That he made money I do not +doubt, but very likely he lost it all before he came home, and was +too cunning, in view of his probable reception, to confess it." + +"I remember your once telling me an amusing story of an +adventure--let me see--yes, that was in an East Indiaman: was he +the captain of that one?" + +"No--a very different man--a cousin of your mother's that was. I +was thinking of it a minute ago; it has certain points, if not of +resemblance, then of contrast with the story you have just been +reading." + +"I should like much to hear it again, when you are able to tell +it." + +"I have got it all in writing. It was amongst my Marion's papers. +You will find, in the bureau in the book-closet, in the pigeon-hole +farthest to the left, a packet tied with red tape: bring that, and +I will find it for you." + +Cosmo brought the bundle of papers, and his father handed him one +of them, saying, "This narrative was written by a brother of your +mother's. The Captain Macintosh who is the hero of the story, was a +cousin of her mother, and at the time of the event related must +have been somewhat advanced in years, for he had now returned to +his former profession after having lost largely in an attempt to +establish a brewery on the island of St. Helena!" + +Cosmo unfolded the manuscript, and read as follows: + +"'An incident occurring on the voyage to India when my brother went +out, exhibits Captain Macintosh's character very practically, and +not a little to his professional credit. + +"'On a fine evening some days after rounding the cape of Good Hope, +sailing with a light breeze and smooth water, a strange sail of +large size hove in sight, and apparently bearing down direct upon +the "Union," Captain Macintosh's ship; evidently a ship of war, but +showing NO COLOURS--a very suspicious fact. All English ships at +that time trading to and from India, by admiralty rules, were +obliged to carry armaments proportioned to their tonnage, and crew +sufficient to man and work the guns carried. The strange sail was +NEARING them, or "the big stranger," as the seamen immediately +named her. My brother, many years afterwards, more than once told +me, that the change, or rather the TRANSFORMATION, which Captain +Macintosh UNDERwent, was one of the most remarkable facts he had +ever witnessed; more bordering on the MARVELLOUS, than anything +else. When he had carefully and deliberately viewed the "big +stranger," and deliberately laying down his glass, his eyes seemed +to have catched FIRE! and his whole countenance lighted up; a new +spirit seemed to possess him, while he preserved the utmost +coolness: advancing deliberately to what is called the poop +railing, and steadily looking forward--"Boatswain! Pipe to +quarters." Muster roll called.--"Now, my men, we shall FIGHT! I +know you will do it well!--Clear ship for action!" I have certainly +but my brother's word and judgment upon the fact, who had never +been UNDER FIRE; but his opinion was, that no British ship of war +could have been more speedily, or more completely cleared for +action, both in rigging, decks, and guns,--guns DOUBLE SHOTTED and +run out into position. "The big stranger" was now NEARING,--no +ports opened, and no colours shewn--ALL, increased cause of +suspicion that there was some ill intent in the wind--and it was +very evident, from the SIZE of "the big stranger "--nearly THRICE +the size of the little "Union,"--that, one broad side from the +former, might send the latter at once to the bottom:--the whole +crew, my brother related, were in the highest spirits, more as if +preparing for a DANCE, than for work of life and death. Suddenly, +the captain gives the command,--"Boarders,--Prepare to board! +--Lower away, boarding Boats "--and no sooner said than done. The +stranger was now at musket-shot. It was worthy the courage of a +Nelson or a Cochrane, to think of boarding at such odds;--a mere +handful of men, to a full complement of a heavy Frigate's crew! The +idea was altogether in keeping with the best naval tactics and +skill. Foreseeing that one broadside from such an enemy would sink +him, he must ANTICIPATE such a crisis. Boarding would at least +divert the enemy from their GUNS; and he knew what British seamen +could do, in clearing an enemy's decks! THERE WAS British spirit in +those days. Let us hope it shall again appear, should the occasion +arise. The captain himself was the first in the foremost Boarding +Boat--and the first in the enemy's main chains, and to set his foot +on the enemy's main deck! when a most magic-like scene saluted the +Boarders; but did not YET allay suspicion:--not a single enemy on +deck!--Here, a characteristic act of a British TAR--the Union's +Boatswain,--must not be omitted--an old man of war's man:--no +sooner had his foot touched the ENEMY'S deck, than RUSHING AFT--(or +towards the ship's stern)--to the WHEEL,--the ONLY MAN ON DECK +being he at the wheel,--a big, lubberly looking man,--the Union's +boatswain in less than a MOMENT had his hands to the steersman's +throat,--and with one FELL SHOVE, sent him spinning, heels over +head--all the full length of the ship's quarter-deck, to land on +the main deck;--one may suppose rather ASTONISHED! The manly +boatswain himself was the only man HURT in the affair--his boarding +pistol, by some untoward accident, went off,--its double shot +running up his fore-arm, and lodging in the bones of his elbow. +Amputation became necessary; and the dear old fellow soon +afterwards died. + +"'But what did all this HULLYBALOO come to? Breathe--and we shall +hear! "The Big Stranger" turned out to be a large, heavy armed +Portuguese Frigate!--Actually the WAR-SHIP SOLITARY of the +Portuguese navy then afloat!--a fine specimen of Portuguese naval +discipline, no doubt!--not a WATCH even on deck!--They had seen +immediately on seeing her, that the "Union" was ENGLISH, and a +merchant ship--which a practised seaman's eye can do at once; and +they had quietly gone to take their SIESTA, after their country's +fashion--Portugal, at that time, being one of Britain's allies, and +not an enemy;--a grievous DISAPPOINTMENT to the crew of the 'Union."' + +"My uncle seems to have got excited as he went on," said Cosmo, "to +judge by the number of words he has underlined!" + +"He enters into the spirit of the thing pretty well for a +clergyman!" said the laird. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII + +A SMALL DISCOVERY. + + +When they had had a little talk over the narrative, the laird +desired Cosmo to replace the papers, and rising he went to obey. As +he approached the closet, the first beams of the rising sun were +shining upon the door of it. The window through which they entered +was a small one, and the mornings of the year in which they so fell +were not many. When he opened the door, they shot straight to the +back of the closet, lighting with rare illumination the little +place, commonly so dusky that in it one book could hardly be +distinguished from another. It was as if a sudden angel had entered +a dungeon. When the door fell to behind him, as was its custom, the +place felt so dark that he seemed to have lost memory as well as +sight, and not to know where he was. He set it open again, and +having checked it so, proceeded to replace the papers. But the +strangeness of the presence there of such a light took so great a +hold on his imagination, and it was such a rare thing to see what +the musty dingy little closet, which to Cosmo had always been the +treasure--chamber of the house, was like, that he stood for a +moment with his hand on the cover of the bureau, gazing into the +light-invaded corners as if he had suddenly found himself in a +department of Aladdin's cave. Old to him beyond all memory, it yet +looked new and wonderful, much that had hitherto been scarcely +known but to his hands now suddenly revealed in radiance to his +eyes also. Amongst other facts he discovered that the bureau stood, +not against a rough wall as he had imagined, but against a plain +surface of wood. In mild surprise he tapped it with his knuckles, +and almost started at the hollow sound it returned. + +"What can there be ahin' the bureau, father?" he asked, re-entering +the room. + +"I dinna ken o' onything," answered the laird. "The desk stan's +close again' the wa', does na't?" + +"Ay, but the wa' 's timmer, an' soon's how." + +"It may be but a wainscotin'; an' gien there was but an inch atween +hit an' the stane, it wad soon' like that." + +"I wad like to draw the desk oot a bit, an' hae a nearer luik. It +fills up a' the space,'at I canna weel win at it." + +"Du as ye like, laddie. The hoose is mair yours nor mine. But noo +ye hae putten't i' my held, I min' my mother sayin' 'at there was +ance a passage atween the twa blocks o' the hoose: could it be +there? I aye thoucht it had been atween the kitchen an' the dinin' +room. My father, she said, had it closed up." + +Said Cosmo, who had been gazing toward the closet from where he +stood by the bedside, + +"It seems to gang farther back nor the thickness o' the wa'!" He +went and looked out of the western window, then turned again +towards the closet. "I canna think," he resumed, with something +like annoyance in his tone, "hoo it cud be 'at I never noticed that +afore! A body wad think I had nae heid for what I prided mysel' +upo'--an un'erstan'in' o' hoo things are putten thegither, +specially i' the w'y o' stane an' lime! The closet rins richt intil +the great blin' wa' atween the twa hooses! I thoucht that wa' had +been naething but a kin' o' a curtain o' defence, but there may +weel be a passage i' the thickness o' 't!" + +So saying he re-entered the closet, and proceeded to move the +bureau. The task was not an easy one. The bureau was large, and so +nearly filled the breadth of the closet, that he could attack it +nowhere but in front, and had to drag it forward, laying hold of it +where he could, over a much-worn oak floor. The sun had long +deserted him before he got behind it. + +"I wad sair like to brak throu the buirds, father?" he said, going +again to the laird. + +"Onything ye like, I tell ye, laddie! I'm growin' curious mysel'," +he answered. + +"I'm feart for makin' ower muckle din, father." + +"Nae fear, nae fear! I haena a sair heid. The Lord be praist, +that's a thing I'm seldom triblet wi'. Gang an' get ye what tools +ye want, an' gang at it, an' dinna spare. Gien the hole sud lat in +the win', ye'll mar nae mair, I'm thinkin', nor ye'll be able to +mak again. What timmer is 't o'?" + +"Only deal, sae far as I can judge." + +Cosmo went and fetched his tool-basket, and set to work. The +partition was strong, of good sound pine, neither rotton nor +worm-eaten--inch-boards matched with groove and tongue, not quite +easy to break through. But having, with a centre-bit and brace, +bored several holes near each other, he knocked out the pieces +between, and introducing a saw, soon made an opening large enough +to creep through. A cold air met him. as if from a cellar, and on +the other side he seemed in another climate. + +Feeling with his hands, for there was scarcely any light, he +discovered that the space he had entered was not a closet, inasmuch +as there was no shelf, or anything in it, whatever. It was +certainly most like the end of a deserted passage. His feet told +him the floor was of wood, and his hands that the walls were of +rough stone without plaster, cold and damp. With outstretched arms +he could easily touch both at once. Advancing thus a few paces, he +struck his head against wood, felt panels, and concluded a door. +There was a lock, but the handle was gone. He went back a little, +and threw himself against it. Lock and hinges too gave way, and it +fell right out before him. He went staggering on, and was brought +up by a bed, half-falling across it. He was in the spare room, the +gruesome centre of legend, the dwelling of ghostly awe. Not yet +apparently had its numen forsaken it, for through him passed a +thrill at the discovery. From his father's familiar room to this, +was like some marvellous transition in a fairy-tale; the one was +home, a place of use and daily custom; the other a hollow in the +far-away past, an ancient cave of Time, full of withering history. +Its windows being all to the north and long unopened, it was +lustreless, dark, and musty with decay. + +Cosmo stood motionless a while, gazing about him as if, from being +wide awake, he suddenly found himself in a dream. Then he turned as +if to see how he had got into it. There lay the door, and there was +the open passage! He lifted the door: the other side of it was +covered with the same paper as the wall, from which it had brought +with it several ragged pieces. He went back, crept through, and +rejoined his father. + +In eager excitement, he told him the discovery he had made. + +"I heard the noise of the falling door," said his father quietly. +"I should not wonder now," he added, "if we discovered a way +through to the third block." + +"Oh, father," said Cosmo with a sigh, "what a comfort this door +would have so often been! and now, just as we are like to leave the +house forever, we first discover it!" + +"How well we have got on without it!" returned his father. + +"But what could have made grandfather close it up?" + +"There was, I believe, some foolish ghost-story connected with +it--perhaps the same old Grannie told you." + +"I wonder grandmamma never spoke of it!" + +"My impression is she never cared to refer to it." + +"I daresay she believed it." + +"Weel, I daursay! I wadna won'er!" + +"What for did ye ca' 't foolish, father?" + +"Jist for thouchtlessness, I doobt, But wha could hae imagined to +kep a ghaist by paperin' ower a door, whan, gien there be ony +trowth i' sic tales, the ghaist gangs throu a stane wa' jist as +easy's open air! But surely o' a' fules a ghaist maun be the warst +'a things on aboot a place!" + +"Maybe it's to haud away frae a waur. The queer thing, father, to +me wad be 'at the ghist, frae bein' a fule a' his life, sud grow a +wise man the minute he was deid! Michtna it be a pairt o' his +punishment to be garred see hoo things gang on efter he's deid! +What could be sairer, for instance, upon a miser, nor to see his +heir gang to the deevil by scatterin' what he gaed to the deevil by +gatherin'?" + +"'Deed ye're richt eneuch, there, my son!" answered the old man. +Then after a pause he resumed. "It's aye siller or banes 'at fesses +them back. I can weel un'erstan' a great reluctance to tak their +last leave o' the siller, but for the banes--eh, but I'll be unoo +pleased to be rid o' mine!" + +"But whaur banes are concernt, hasna there aye been fause play?" +suggested Cosmo. + +"Wad it be revenge, than, think ye?" + +"It micht be: maist o' the stories o' that kin' en' wi' bringin' +the murderer an' justice acquant. But the human bein' seems in a' +ages to hae a grit dislike to the thoucht o' his banes bein' left +lyin' aboot. I hae h'ard gran'mamma say the dirtiest servan' was +aye clean twa days o' her time--the day she cam an' the day she +gaed." + +"Ye hae thoucht mair aboot it nor me, laddie! But what ye say wadna +haud wi' the Parsees, 'at lay oot their deid to be devoored by the +birds o' the air." + +"They swipe up their banes at the last. An', though the livin' +expose the deid, the deid mayna like it." + +"I daursay. Ony gait it maun be a fine thing to lea' as little dirt +as possible ahin' ye, an' tak nane wi' ye. I wad frain gang clean +an' lea' clean!" + +"Gien onybody gang clean an' lea' clean, father, ye wull." + +"I luik to the Lord, my son.--But noo, whan a body thinks o' 't," +he went on after a pause, "there wad seem something curious i' thae +tales concernin' the auld captain! Sometime we'll tak Grizzie intil +oor coonsel, an' see hoo mony we can gaither, an' what we can mak +o' them whan we lay them a' thegither. Gien the Lord hae't in his +min' to keep 's i' this place, yon passage may turn oot a great +convanience." + +"Ye dinna think it wad be worth while openin' 't up direc'ly?" + +"I wad bide for warmer weather. I think the room's jist some caller +now by rizzon o' 't." + +"I'll close't up at ance," said Cosmo. + +In a few minutes he had screwed a box-lid over the hole in the +partition, and shut the door of the closet. + +"Noo," he said, "I'll gang an' set up the door on the ither side." + +Before he went however, he told his father what he had been +thinking of, saying, if he approved and was well enough, he should +like to go the next day. + +"It's no an ill idea," said the laird; "but we'll see what the morn +may be like." + +When Cosmo entered the great bedroom of the house from the other +side, he stood for a moment staring at the open passage and +prostrate door as if he saw them for the first time, then proceeded +to examine the hinges. They were broken; the half of each remained +fast to the door-post, the other half to the door. New hinges were +necessary; in the meantime he must prop it up. This he did; and +before he left the room, as it was much in want of fresh air, he +opened all the windows. + +His father continuing better through that day, he went to bed early +that he might start at sunrise. + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. + +A GREATER DISCOVERY. + + +In the middle of the night he was wakened by a loud noise. Its +nature he had been too sound asleep to recognize; he only knew it +had waked him. He sprang out of bed, was glad to find his father +undisturbed, and stood for a few moments wondering. All at once he +remembered that he had left the windows of the best bedroom open; +the wind had risen, and was now blowing what sailors would call a +gale: probably something had been blown down! He would go and see. +Taking a scrap of candle, all he had, he crept down the stair and +out to the great door. + +As he approached that of the room he sought, the faint horror he +felt of it when a boy suddenly returned upon him as fresh as ever, +and for a moment he hesitated, almost doubting whether he were not +dreaming: was he actually there in the middle of the night? But, +with an effort he dismissed the folly, was himself again, entering +the room, if not with indifference yet with composure. There was +just light enough to see the curtains of the terrible bed waving +wide in the stream of wind that followed the opening of the door. +He shut the windows, lighted his candle, and then saw the door he +had set up so carefully flat on the floor: the chair he had put +against it for a buttress, he thought, had not proved high enough, +and it had fallen down over the top of it. He placed his candle +beside it, and proceeded once more to raise it. But, casting his +eyes up to mark the direction, he caught a sight which made him lay +it down again and rise without it. The candle on the floor shone +halfway into the passage, lighting up a part of one wall of it, and +showing plainly the rough gray stones of which it was built. +Something in the shapes and arrangement of the stones drew and +fixed Cosmo's attention. He took the candle, examined the wall, +came from the passage with his eyes shining, and his lips firmly +closed, left the room, and went up a story higher to that over it, +still called his. There he took from his old secretary the +unintelligible drawing hid in the handle of the bamboo, and with +beating heart unfolded it. Certainly its lines did, more or less, +correspond with the shapes of those stones! He must bring them face +to face! + +Down the stair he went again. It was the dead of the night, but +every remnant of childhood's awe was gone in the excitement of the +hoped discovery. He stood once more in the passage, the candle in +one hand, the paper in the other, and his eyes going and coming +steadily between it and the wall, as if reading the rough stones by +some hieroglyphic key. The lines on the paper and the joints of the +stones corresponded with almost absolute accuracy. + +But another thing had caught his eye--a thing yet more promising, +though he delayed examining it until fully satisfied of the +correspondence he sought to establish: on one of the stones, one +remarkable neither by position nor shape, he spied what seemed the +rude drawing of a horse, but as it was higher than his head, and +the candle cast up shadows from the rough surfaces, he could not +see it well. Now he got a chair, and, standing on it, saw that it +was plainly enough a horse, like one a child might have made who, +with a gift for drawing, had had no instruction. It was scratched +on the stone. Beneath it, legible enough to one who knew them so +well, were the lines-- + + catch your Nag, & pull his Tail + in his hind Hele caw a Nail + rug his Lugs frae ane anither + stand up, & ca' the King yer Brither + +How these directions were to be followed with such a horse +astheoneon the flat before him would be scanned! Probably the wall +must be broken into at that spot. In the meantime he would set up +the door again, and go to bed. + +For he was alarmed at the turmoil the sight of these signs caused +in him. He dreaded POSSESSION by any spirit but the one. Whatever +he did now he must do calmly. Therefore to bed he went. But before +he gave himself up to sleep, he prayed God to watch him, lest the +commotion in his heart and the giddiness of hope should make +something rise that would come between him and the light eternal. +The man in whom any earthly hope dims the heavenly presence and +weakens the mastery of himself, is on the by-way through the meadow +to the castle of Giant Despair. + +In the morning he rose early, and went to see what might be +attempted for the removing of the stone. He found it, as he had +feared, so close-jointed with its neighbours that none of his tools +would serve. He went to Grizzie and got from her a thin old knife; +but the mortar had got so hard since those noises the servants used +to hear in the old captain's room, that he could not make much +impression upon it, and the job was likely to be a long one. He +said to himself it might be the breaking through of the wall of his +father's prison and his own, and wrought eagerly. + +As soon as his father had had his breakfast, he told him what he +had discovered during the dark hours. The laird listened with the +light of a smile, not the smile itself, upon his face, and made no +answer; but Cosmo could see by the all but imperceptible motion of +his lips that he was praying. + +"I wish I were able to help you," he said at length. + +"There is na room for mair nor ane at a time, father," answered +Cosmo; "an' I houp to get the stane oot afore I'm tired. You can be +Moses praying, while I am Joshua fighting." + +"An' prayin' again' waur enemies nor ever Joshua warstled wi'," +returned his father; "for whan I think o' the rebound o' the +spirit, even in this my auld age, that cudna but follow the mere +liftin' o' the weicht o' debt, I feel as gien my sowl wad be +tum'led aboot like a bledder, an' its auld wings tak to lang slow +flaggin' strokes i' the ower thin aether o' joy. The great God +protec' 's frae his ain gifts! Wi'oot him they're ten times waur +nor ony wiles o' the deevil's ain. But I'll pray, Cosmo; I'll +pray." + +The real might of temptation is in the lower and seemingly nearer +loveliness as against the higher and seemingly farther. + +Cosmo went back to his work. But he got tired of the old knife--it +was not tool enough, and had to fashion on the grindstone a +screw-driver to a special implement. With that he got on better. + +The stone,--whether by the old captain's own' hands, his ghost best +knew--was both well fitted and fixed, but after Cosmo had worked at +it for about three hours his tool suddenly went through. It was +then easy to knock away from the edge gained, and on the first +attempt to prize it out, it yielded so far that he got a hold with +his fingers, and the rest was soon done. It disclosed a cavity in +the wall, but the light was not enough to let him see into it, and +he went to get a candle. + +Now Grizzie had a curious dislike to any admission of the poverty +of the house even to those most interested, and having but one +small candle-end left, was unwilling both to yield it, and to +confess it her last. + +"Them 'at burns daylicht, sune they'll hae nae licht!" she said. +"What wad ye want wi' a can'le? I'll haud a fir-can'le to ye, gien +ye like." + +"Grizzie," repeated Cosmo, "I want a can'le." + +She went grumbling, and brought him the miserable end. + +"Hoot, Grizzie!" he expostulated, "dinna be sae near. Ye wadna, +gien ye kenned what I was aboot." + +"Eh! what are ye aboot, sir?" + +"I'm no gaein' to tell ye yet. Ye maun hae patience, an' I maun hae +a can'le." + +"Ye maun tak what's offert ye." + +"Grizzie, I'm in earnest." + +"'Deed an' sae am I! Ye s' hae nae mair nor that--no gien it was to +scrape the girnel--an' that's dune lang syne, an' twise ower!" + +"Grizzie, I'm feart ye'll anger me." + +"Ye s' get nae mair!" + +Cosmo burst out laughing. + +"Grizzie," he said, "I dinna believe ye nae an' inch mair can'le i' +the hoose!" + +"It needs na a Warlock to tell that! Gien I had it, what for sud na +ye hae't 'at has the best richt?" + +Cosmo took his candle, and was as sparing of it as Grizzie herself +could have wished. + + + + +CHAPTER LV. + +A GREAT DISCOVERY. + + +The instant the rays of the candle-end were thrown into the cavity, +he saw what, expectant as he was, made him utter a cry. He seemed +to be looking through a small window into a toy-stable--a large one +for a toy. Immediately before him was a stall, in which stood ahorse, +with his tail towards the window. He put in his hand and +felt it over. For a toy it would have been of the largest size +below a rocking horse. It was covered with a hairy skin. So far all +was satisfactory, but alas! more stones must be removed ere it +could be taken from its prison stall, where, like the horses of +Charlemagne, it had been buried so many years. He extinguished the +precious candle-end, and set to work once more with a will and what +light the day afforded. Nor was the task much easier than before. +Every one of the stones was partly imbedded in the solid of the +wall, projecting but a portion of its bulk over the hollow of the +stable. The old captain must indeed have worked hard! for assuredly +he was not the man to call for help where he desired +secrecy--though doubtless it was his sudden death, and the nature +of it, which prevented him from making disclosure concerning the +matter before he left the world: the rime, the drawing, the +scratches on the stone, all indicated the intention. Cosmo took +pleasure in thinking that, if indeed his ghost did "walk," as +Grannie and others had affirmed, it must be more from desire to +reveal where his money was hid, than from any gloating over the +imagined possession of it. + +But it was now dinner-time, and he must rest, for he was tired as +well as hungry--and no wonder, the work having been so awkward as +well as continuous! He locked the door of the room, went first to +tell his father what he had further found, and then made haste over +his meal, for the night was coming, and there were no candles. +Persistently he laboured; "the toil-drops fell from his brow like +rain;" and at last he laid hold of the patient animal by the hind +legs, with purpose to draw it gently from the stall. A little way +it came, then no farther, and he had to light the candle. Peeping +into the stall he perceived a chain stretching from its head to +where the manger might be. This he dared not try to break, lest he +might injure the mechanism he hoped to find in it. But clearly the +horse could not have been so fastened as the stall then stood. The +stall must have been completed after the horse was thus secured. +More than ever he now needed a candle--and indeed one held for him; +but he was not prepared either to take Grizzie into his confidence, +or to hurt her by perferring Agnes. He therefore examined the two +stones forming the sides of the stall, and led by the appearance of +one of them, proceeded to attempt its removal almost in the dark, +compelled indeed now and then to feel for the proper spot where to +set his tool before he struck it. For some time he seemed to make, +little or no progress; but who would be discouraged with the end in +sight! + +The stone at length moved, and in a minute he had it out. For the +last time he lighted his candle, and there was just enough of it +left to show him how the chain was fastened. With a pair of pincers +he detached it from the wall--and I may mention that his life after +he wore it at his watch. + +And now he had the horse in his arms and would have borne it +straight to his father, in whose presence it must be searched, but +that, unwilling to carry it through the kitchen, he must first go +to the other end of the passage and open that way. + +The laird was seated by the fire when Cosmo went through, and +returning with the horse, placed it on a chair beside him. They +looked it all over, wondering whether the old captain could have +made it himself, and Cosmo thought his father prolonged the inquiry +from a wish to still his son's impatience. But at length he said, + +"Noo, Cosmo, i' the name o' God, the giver o' ilka guid an' perfec' +gift, see gien ye can win at the entrails o' the animal. It cannabe +fu' o' men like the Trojan horse, or they maun be enchantit sma', +like the deevils whan they war ower mony for the cooncil ha'; but +what's intil 't may carry a heap waur danger to you an' me nor ony +nummer o' airmit men!" + +"Ye min' the rime, father?" asked Cosmo. + +"No sae weel as the twenty-third psalm," replied the laird with a +smile. + +"Weel, the first line o' 't is,'Catch yer naig, an' pu' his tail.' +Wi' muckle diffeeclety we hae catcht him, an' noo for the tail o' +'im!--There! that's dune!--though there's no muckle to shaw for 't. +The neist direction is--'In his hin' heel caw a nail:' we s' turn +up a' his fower feet thegither,'cause they're cooperant; an' noo +lat 's see the proper spot whaur to caw the said nail!" + +The horse's shoes were large, and the hole where a nail was missing +had not to be sought. Cosmo took a fine bradawl, and pushed it +gently into the hoof. A loud, whirring noise followed, but with no +visible result. + +"The next direction," said Cosmo, "is--'Rug his lugs frae ane +anither.' Noo, father, God be wi' 's! an' gien it please him we be +dis-ap'intit, may he gie 's grace to beir 't as he wad hae 's beir +'t.' + +"I pray the same," said the laird. + +Cosmo pulled the two ears of the animal in opposite directions. The +back began to open, slowly, as if through the long years the cleft +had begun to grow together. He sprang from his seat. The laird +looked after him with a gentle surprise. But it was not to rush +from the room, nor yet to perform a frantic dance with the horse +for a partner. + +One of the windows looked westward into the court, and at this +season of the year, the setting sun looked in at that window. He +was looking in now; his rays made a glowing pool of light in the +middle of the ancient carpet. Beside this pool Cosmo dropped on the +floor like a child with his toy, and pulled lustily at its ears. +All at once into the pool of light began to tumble a cataract as of +shattered rainbows, only brighter, flashing all the colours visible +to human eye. It ceased. Cosmo turned the horse upside down, and a +few stray drops followed. He shook it, and tapped it, like Grizzie +when she emptied the basin of meal into the porridge-pot, then +flung it from him. But the cataract had not vanished. There it lay +heaped and spread, a storm of conflicting yet harmonious hues, with +a foamy spray of spiky flashes, and spots that ate into the eyes +with their fierce colour. In every direction shot the rays from it, +blinding; for it was a mound of stones of all the shapes into which +diamonds are fashioned. It makes my heart beat but to imagine the +glorious show of deep-hued burning, flashing, stinging light! The +heaviest of its hues was borne light as those of a foam-bubble on +the strength of its triumphing radiance. There pulsed the mystic +glowing red, heart and lord of colour; there the jubilant yellow, +light-glorified to ethereal gold; there the loveliest blue, the +truth unfathomable, profounder yet than the human red; there the +green, that haunts the brain with Nature's soundless secrets! all +together striving, yet atoning, fighting and fleeing and following, +parting and blending, with illimitable play of infinite force and +endlessly delicate gradation. Scattered here and there were a few +of all the coloured gems--sapphires, emeralds, and rubies; but they +were scarce of note in the mass of ever new-born, ever dying colour +that gushed from the fountains of the light-dividing diamonds. + +Cosmo rose, left the glory where it lay, and returning to his +father, sat down beside him. For a few moments they regarded in +silence the shining mound, where, like an altar of sacrifice, it +smoked with light and colour. The eyes of the old man as he looked +seemed at once to sparkle with pleasure, and quail with some kind +of fear. He turned to Cosmo and said, + +"Cosmo, are they what they luik?" + +"What luik they, father?" asked Cosmo. + +"Bonny bits o' glaiss they luik," answered the old man. "But," he +went on, "I canna but believe them something better, they come +til's in sic a time o' sair need. But, be they this or be they +that, the Lord's wull be done--noo an' for ever, be it, I say, what +it like!" + +"I wuss it, father!" rejoined Cosmo. "But I ken something aboot +sic-like things, frae bein' sae muckle in Mr. Burns's shop, an' +hauding a heap o' conference wi' im about them; an' I tell ye, sir, +they're maistly a' di'mon's; an' the nummer o' thoosan' poun' they +maun be worth gien they be worth a saxpence, I daurna guess!" + +"They'll be eneuch to pey oor debts ony gait, ye think, Cosmo?" + +"Ay, that wull they--an' mony a hun'er times ower. They're maistly +a guid size, an' no a feow o' them lairge." + +"Cosmo, we're ower lang ohn thankit. Come here, my son; gang down +upo' yer knees, an lat's say to the Lord what we're thinkin'." + +Cosmo obeyed, and knelt at his father's knee, and his father laid +his hand upon his head that so they might pray more in one. + +"Lord," he said, "though naething a man can tak in his han's can +ever be his ain, no bein' o' his nature, that is, made i' thy +image, yet, O Lord, the thing 'at's thine, made by thee efter thy +holy wull an' pleesur, man may touch an' no be defiled. Yea, he may +tak pleesur baith in itsel' an' in its use, sae lang as he han'les +'t i' the how o' thy han', no grippin' at it an' ca'in' 't his ain, +an' lik a rouch bairn seekin' to snap it awa' 'at he may hae his +fule wull o' 't. O God, they're bonny stanes an' fu' o' licht: +forbid 'at their licht sud breed darkness i' the hert o' Cosmo an' +me. O God, raither nor we sud du or feel ae thing i' consequence o' +this they gift, that thoo wadna hae us do or feel, we wad hae thee +tak again the gift; an' gien i' thy mercy, for it's a' mercy wi' +thee, it sud turn oot, efter a','at they're no stanes o' thy +makin', but coonterfeit o' glaiss, the produc' o' airt an' man's +device, we'll lay them a' thegither, an' keep them safe, an' luik +upon them as a token o' what thoo wad hae dune for 's gien it hadna +been 'at we warna yet to be trustit wi' sae muckle, an' that for +the safety an' clean-throuness o' oor sowls. O God, latna the +sunshiny Mammon creep intil my Cosmo's hert an' mak a' mirk; latna +the licht that is in him turn to darkness. God hae mercy on his wee +bairns, an' no lat the play ocks he gies them tak their e'en aff o' +the giein' han'! May the licht noo streamin' frae the hert o' the +bonny stanes be the bodily presence o' thy speerit, as ance was the +doo 'at descendit upo' the maister, an' the buss 'at burned wi' +fire an' wasna consumed. Thoo art the father o' lichts, an' a' +licht is thine. Garoor herts burn like them--a' licht an' nae reek! +An' gien ony o' them cam in at a wrang door, may they a' gang oot +at a richt ane. Thy wull be dune, which is the purifyin' fire o' a' +thing, an' a' sowl! Amen." + +He ceased, and was silent, praying still. Nor did Cosmo yet rise +from his knees: the joy, and yet more the relief at his heart +filled him afresh with fear, lest, no longer spurred by the same +sense of need, he should the less run after him from whom help had +come so plentifully. Alas! how is it with our hearts that in +trouble they cry, and in joy forget! that we think it hard of God +not to hear, and when he has answered abundantly, turn away as if +we wanted him no more! + +When Cosmo rose from his knees, he looked his father in the face +with wet eyes. + +"Oh, father!" he said, "how the fear and oppression of ages are +gone like a cloud swallowed up of space. Oh, father! are not all +human ills doomed thus to vanish at last in the eternal fire of the +love-burning God?--An' noo, father, what 'll we du neist?" resumed +Cosmo after a pause, turning his eyes again on the heap of jewels. +The sunrays had now left them, and they lay cold and almost +colourless, though bright still: even in the dark some of them +would shine! "It pleases me, father," he went on, "to see nane o' +them set. It pruvs naething, but maks 't jist a wheen mair likly he +got them first han' like. Eh, the queer things! sae hard, an' yet +'maist bodiless! naething but skinfu's o' licht!" + +"Hooever they war gotten," rejoined the laird, there can be no +question but the only w'y o' cleansin' them is to put them to the +best use we possibly can." + +"An' what wad ye ca' the best use, father?" + +"Whatever maks o' a man a neebour. A true life efter God's notion +is the sairest bash to Sawtan. To gie yer siller to ither fowk to +spread is to jink the wark laid oot for ye. I' the meantime hadna +ye better beery yer deid again? They maun lie i' the dark, like +human sowls, till they're broucht to du the deeds o' licht." + +"Dinna ye think," said Cosmo, "I micht set oot the morn efter a', +though on a different eeran', an' gang straucht to Mr. Burns? He'll +sune put's i' the w'y to turn them til accoont. They're o' sma' +avail as they lie there." + +"Ye canna du better, my son," answered the old man. + +So Cosmo gathered the gems together into the horse, lifting them in +handfuls. But, peeping first into the hollow of the animal, to make +sure he had found all that was in it, he caught sight of a bit of +paper that had got stuck, and found it a Bank of England note for +five hundred pounds. This in itself would have been riches an hour +ago--now it was only a convenience. + +"It's queer to think," said Cosmo, "'at though we hae a' this +siller, I maun tramp it the morn like ony caird. Wha is there in +Muir o' Warlock could change't, an' wha wad I gang til wi' 't gien +he could?" + +His father replied with a smile, + +"It brings to my min' the words o' the apostle--'Noo I say, that +the heir, sae lang as he's but a bairn, differeth naething frae a +servan', though he be lord o' a'.' Eh, Cosmo, but the word admits +o' curious illustration!" + +Cosmo set the horse, as soon as he had done giving him his supper +of diamonds, again in his old stall, and replaced the stones that +had shut him in as well as he could. Then he wedged up the door, +and having nothing to make paste, glued the paper again to the wall +which it had carried with it. He next sought the kitchen and +Grizzie. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI + +MR. BURNS. + + +"Grizzie," he said, "I'm gaein' a lang tramp the morn, an' I'll +need a great poochfu' o' cakes." + +"Eh, sirs! An' what's takin' ye frae hame this time, sir?" returned +Grizzie. + +"I'm no gaein' to tell ye the nicht, Grizzie. It's my turn to hae a +secret noo! But ye ken weel it's lang sin' there's been onything to +be gotten by bidin' at hame." + +"Eh, but, sir! ye're never gaein' to lea' the laird! Bide an' dee +wi' him, sir." + +"God bless ye, Grizzie! Hae ye ony baubees?" + +"Ay; what for no! I hae sax shillin's, fower pennies, an' a +baubeefardin'!" answered Grizzie, in the tone of a millionaire. + +"Weel, ye maun jist len' me half a croon o' 't." + +"Half a croon!" echoed Grizzie, staggered at the largeness of the +demand. 'Haith, sir, ye're no blate (BASHFUL)!" + +"I dinna think it's ower muckle," said Cosmo, "seein' I hae to +tramp five an' thirty mile the morn. But bake ye plenty o' breid, +an' that'll haud doon the expence. Only, gien he can help it, a +body sudna be wantin' a baubee in 's pooch. Gien ye had nane to gie +me, I wad set oot bare. But jist as ye like, Grizzie! I cud beg to +be sure--noo ye hae shawn the gait," he added, taking the old woman +by the arm with a laugh, that she might not be hurt, "but whan ye +ken ye sudna speir, an' whan ye hae, ye hae no richt to beg." + +"Weel, I'll gie ye auchteen pence, an' considerin' a' 'at 's to be +dune wi' what's left, ye'll hae to grant it 's no an oonfair +portion." + +"Weel, weel, Grizzie! I'm thinkin' I'll hae to be content." + +"'Deed, an' ye wull, sir! Ye s' hae nae mair." + +That night the old laird slept soundly, but Cosmo, ever on the +brink of unconsciousness, was blown back by a fresh gust of +gladness. The morning came golden and brave, and his father was +well enough to admit of his leaving him. So he set out, and in the +strength of his relief walked all the way without spending a +half-penny of Grizzie's eighteen pence: two days before, he would +consult his friend how to avoid the bitterest dregs of poverty; now +he must find from him how to make his riches best available! + +He did not tell Mr. Burns, however, what his final object was--only +begged him, for the sake of friendship and old times, to go with +him for a day or two to his father's. + +"But, Mr. Warlock," objected the jeweller, "that would be taking +the play, and we've got to be diligent in business." + +"The thing I want you for is business," replied Cosmo. + +"But what's to be done with the shop? I have no assistant I can +trust." + +"Then shut it up, and give your men a holiday. You can put up a +notice informing the great public when you will be back." + +"Such a thing was never heard of!" + +"It is quite time it should be heard of then. Why, sir, your +business is not like a doctor's, or even a baker's. People can live +without diamonds!" + +"Don't speak disrespectfully of diamonds, Mr. Warlock. If you knew +them as I do, you would know they had a thing or two to say." + +"Speak of them disrespectfully you never heard me, Mr. Burns." + +"Never, I confess. I was only talking from the diamond side. Like +all things else, they give us according to what we have. To him +that hath shall be given. The fine lady may see in her fine +diamonds only victory over a rival; the philosopher may read +embodied in them law inexorably beautiful; and the Christian +poet--oh, I have read my Spenser, Mr. Warlock!--will choose the +diamond for its many qualities, as the best and only substance +wherein to represent the shield of the faith that overcometh the +world. Like the gospel itself, diamonds are a savour of life unto +life, or a savour of death unto death, according to the character +of them that look on them." + +"That is true enough. Every gift of God is good that is received +with faith and thanksgiving, and whatsoever is not of faith is sin. +But will you come?" + +Mr. Burns did at length actually consent to close his shop for +three days, and go with Cosmo. + +"It will not be a bad beginning," he said, as if in justification +of himself to himself, "towards retiring from business +altogether--which I might have done long ago," he added, "but for +you, sir!" + +"It is very well for me you did not," rejoined Cosmo, but declined +to explain. This piqued Mr. Burns's curiosity, and he set about his +preparations at once. + +In the mean time things went well at Castle Warlock, with--shall I +say?--one exception: Grizzie had a severe fit of repentance, +mourning bitterly that she had sent away the youth she worshipped +with only eighteen pence in his pocket. + +"He's sure to come to grief for the want o' jist that ae shillin' +mair!" she said over and over to herself; "an' it'll be a' an' only +my wite! What gien we never see 'im again! Eh, sirs! it's a +terrible thing to be made sae contrairy! What'll come o' me in the +neist warl', it wad be hard for onybody to say!" + +On the evening of the second day, however, while she was "washing +up" in the gloomiest frame of mind, in walked Cosmo, and a +gentleman after him. + +"Hoo's my father, Grizzie?" asked Cosmo. + +"Won'erfu' weel, sir," answered Grizzie, with a little more show +ofrespect than usual. + +"This is Grizzie, Mr. Burns," said Cosmo. "I have told you about +Grizzie that takes care of us all!" + +"How do you do, Grizzie?" said Mr. Burns, and shook hands with her. +"I am glad to make your acquaintance." + +"Here, Grizzie!" said Cosmo; "here's the auchteen pence ye gae me +for expences: say ye're pleased I haena waured it.--Jist a word wi' +ye, Grizzie!--Luik here--only dinna tell!" + +He had drawn her aside to the corner where stood the meal-chest, +and now showed her a bunch of banknotes. So many she had never +seen--not to say in a bunch, but scattered over all her life! He +took from the bunch ten pounds and gave her. + +"Mr. Burns," he said aloud, "will be staying over to-morrow, I +hope." + +Grizzie GLOWERED at the money as if such a sum could not be canny, +but the next moment, like one suddenly raised to dignity and power, +she began to order Aggie about as if she were her mistress, and an +imperious one. Within ten minutes she had her bonnet on, and was +setting out for Muir o'Warlock to make purchases. + +But oh the pride and victory that rose and towered and sank weary, +only to rise and tower again in Grizzie's mind, as she walked to +the village with all that money in her pocket! The dignity of the +house of Warlock had rushed aloft like a sudden tidal wave, and on +its very crest Grizzie was borne triumphing heavenwards. From one +who begged at strange doors for the daily bread of a decayed +family, all at once she was the housekeeper of the most ancient and +honourable castle in all Scotland, steering the great ship of its +fortunes! With a reserve and a dignity as impressive as provoking +to the gossips of the village, from one shop to another she went, +buying carefully but freely, rousing endless curiosity by her look +of mystery, and her evident consciousness of infinite resource. But +when at last she went to the Warlock Arms, and bought a half dozen +of port at the incredible price of six shillings a bottle, there +was not a doubt left in the Muir that "the auld laird" had at last +and somehow come in for a great fortune. Grizzie returned laden +herself, and driving before her two boys carrying a large basket +between them. Now she was equal to the proper entertainment of the +visitor, for whom, while she was away, Aggie, obedient to her +orders, was preparing the state bedroom--thinking all the time of +that night long ago when she and Cosmo got it ready for Lord +Mergwain. + +Cosmo and Mr. Burns found the laird seated by the fire in his room; +and there Cosmo recounted the whole story of the finding of the +gems, beginning far back with the tales concerning the old captain, +as they had come to his knowledge, just touching on the acquisition +of the bamboo, and the discovery of its contents, and so descending +to the revelations of the previous two days. But all the time he +never gave the jeweller a hint of what was coming. In relating the +nearer events, he led him from place to place, acting his part in +them, and forestalling nothing, never once mentioning stone or gem, +then suddenly poured out the diamonds on the rug in the firelight. + +Leaving the result to the imagination of my reader, I will now tell +him a thing that took place while Cosmo was away. + + + + +CHAPTER LVII + +TOO SURE COMES TOO LATE. + + +The same day Cosmo left, Lord Lick-my-loof sent to the castle the +message that he wanted to see young Mr. Warlock. The laird returned +the answer that Cosmo was from home, and would not be back till the +day following. + +In the afternoon came his lordship, desiring an interview with the +laird; which, not a little against his liking, the laird granted. + +"Set ye doon, my lord," said Grizzie, "an' rist yer shins. The ro'd +atween this an' the ludge, maun be slithery." + +His lordship yielded and took the chair she offered, for he would +rather propitiate than annoy her, seeing he was more afraid of +Grizzie than aught in creation except dogs. And Grizzie, +appreciating his behaviour, had compassion upon him and spared him. + +"His lairdship," she said, "maunna be hurried puttin' on his +dressin'-goon. He's no used to see onybody sae ear'. I s' gang an' +see gien I can help him; he never wad hae a man aboot 'im 'cep' the +yoong laird himsel'." + +Relieved by her departure, his lordship began to look about the +kitchen, and seeing Aggie, asked after her father. She replied that +he was but poorly. + +"Getting old!" + +"Surely, my lord. He's makin' ready to gang." + +"Poor old man!" + +"What wad yer lordship hae? Ye wadna gang on i' this warl' for +ever?" + +"'Deed and I would have no objection--so long as there were pretty +girls like you in it." + +"Suppose the lasses had a ch'ice tu, my lord?" + +"What would they do?" + +"Gang, I'm thinkin'." + +"What makes you so spiteful, Aggie? I never did you any harm that I +know of." + +"Ye ken the story o' the guid Samaritan, my lord?" said Aggie. + +"I read my bible, I hope." + +"Weel, I'll tell ye a bit mair o' 't nor ye'll get there. The +Levite an' the Pharisee--naebody ever said yer lordship was like +aither o' them--" + +"No, thank God! nobody could." + +"--they gaed by o' the ither side, an' loot him lie. But there was +ane cam up, an' tuik 'im by the legs,'cause he lay upo' his lan', +an'wad hae pu'dhim aff. But jist i' the nick o' time by cam the +guid Samaritan, an' set him rinnin'. Sae it was sune a sma' maitter +to onybody but the ill neebour, wha couldna weel gang straucht to +Paradise. Abraham wad hae a fine time o' 't wi' sic a bairn in 's +bosom!" + +"Damn the women! Young and old they're too many for me!" said his +lordship to himself,--and just then Grizzie returning invited him +to walk up to the laird's room, where he made haste to set forth +the object of his visit. + +"I said to your son, Glenwarlock, when he came to me the other +morning, that I would not buy." + +"Yes, my lord." + +"I have however, lawyer though I be, changed my mind, and am come +to renew my offer." + +"In the meantime, however, we have changed our minds, my lord, and +will not sell." + +"That's very foolish of you." + +"It may seem so, my lord; but you must allow us to do the best with +what modicum of judgment we possess." + +"What can have induced you to come to such a fatal resolution! I am +thoroughly acquainted with the value of the land all about here, +and am convinced you will not get such a price from another, be he +who he may." + +"You may be right, my lord, but we do not want to sell." + +"Nobody, I repeat, will make you a better--I mean an equal offer." + +"I could well believe it might not be worth more to anyone else--so +long, that is, as your lordship's property shuts it in on every +side; but to your lordship--" + +"That is my affair; what it is worth to you is the question. + +"It is worth more to us than you can calculate." + +"I daresay, where sentiment sends prices up! But that is not in the +market. Take my advice and a good offer. You can't go on like this, +you know. You will lose your position entirely. Why, what are you +thinking of!" + +"I am thinking, my lord, that you have scarcely been such a +neighbour as to induce us to confide our plans to you. I have said +we will not sell--and as I am something of an invalid--" + +Lord Lick-my-loof rose, feeling fooled--and annoyed with himself +and everybody in "the cursed place." + +"Good morning, Glenwarlock," he said. "You will live to repent this +morning." + +"I hope not, my lord. I have lived nearly long enough. Good +morning!" + +His lordship went softly down the stair, hurried through the +kitchen, and walked slowly home, thinking whether it might not be +worth his while to buy up Glenwarlock's few remaining debts. + + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. + +A LITTLE LIFE WELL ROUNDED. + + +"Pirate or not, the old gentleman was a good judge of diamonds!" +said Mr. Burns, laying down one of the largest. "Not an inferior +one in all I have gone over! Your uncle was a knowing man, sir: +diamonds are worth much more now than when he brought them home. +These rough ones will, I trust, turn out well: we cannot be so sure +of them." + +"How much suffering the earlier possession of them would have +prevented!" said the laird. "And now they are ten times more +welcome that we have the good of that first." + +"Sapphires and all of the finest quality!" continued Mr. Burns, in +no mood for reflection. "I'll tell you what you must do, Mr. Cosmo: +you must get a few sheets of tissue paper, and wrap every stone up +separately--a long job, but the better worth doing! There must be a +thousand of them!" + +"How can they hurt, being the hardest things in the world?" said +Cosmo. + +"Put them in any other company you please--wheel them to the +equator in a barrowful of gravel, or line their box with +sand-paper, and you may leave them naked as they were born! But, +bless thy five wits! did you never hear the proverb,'Diamond cut +diamond'? They're all of a sort, you see! I'd as soon shut up a +thousand game-cocks in the same cellar. If they don't scratch each +other, they may, or they might, or they could, or they would, or at +any rate they should scratch each other. It was all very well so +long as they lay in the wall of this your old diamond-mine. But now +you'll be for ever playing with them! No, no! wrap each one up by +itself, I say." + +"We're so far from likely to keep fingering them, Mr. Burns," said +Cosmo, "that our chief reason for wishing you to see them was that +you might, if you would oblige us, take them away, and dispose of +them for us!" + +"A-ah!" rejoined Mr. Burns, "I fear I am getting too old for a +transaction of such extent! I should have to go to London--to +Paris--to Amsterdam--who knows where?--that is, to make the best of +them--perhaps to America! And here was I thinking of retiring!" + +"Then let this be your last business-transaction. It will not be a +bad one to finish up with. You can make it a good thing for +yourself as well as for us." + +"If I undertake it, it shall be at a fixed percentage." + +"Ten?" suggested Cosmo. + +"No; there is no risk, only labour in this. When I took ten for +that other diamond, I paid you the money for it, you will remember: +that makes a difference. I wish you would come with me; I could +help you to see a little of the world." + +"I should like it greatly, but I could not leave my father." + +Mr. Burns was a little nervous about the safety of the portmanteau +that held such a number of tiny parcels in silver paper, and would +not go inside the coach although it rained, but took a place in +sight of his luggage. I will not say what the diamonds brought. I +would not have my book bristle with pounds like a French novel with +francs. They more than answered even Mr. Burns's expectations. + +When he was gone, and all hope for this world vanished in the +fruition of assured solvency, the laird began to fail. While Cosmo +was yet on the way with Mr. Burns and the portmanteau to meet the +coach, he said to his faithful old friend, + +"I'm tired, Grizzie; I'll gang to my bed, I think. Gien ye'll gie +me a han', I winna bide for Cosmo." + +"Eh, sir, what for sud ye be in sic a hurry to sleep awa' the bonny +daylicht?" remonstrated Grizzie, shot through with sudden fear, nor +daring allow to herself she was afraid. "Bide till the yoong laird +comes back wi' the news: he winna be lang." + +"Gien ye haena time, Grizzie, I can manage for mysel'. Gang yer +wa's, lass. Ye hae been a richt guid freen' to yer auld mistress! +Ye hae dune yer best for him 'at she left!" + +"Eh, sir! dinna speyk like that. It's terrible to hearken til!--I' +the verra face o' the providence 'at's been takin' sic pains to mak +up to ye for a' ye hae gang throu'--noo whan a 's weel, an' like to +be weel, to turn roon' like this, an' speyk o' gaein' to yer bed! +It's no worthy o' ye, laird!" + +He was so amused with her expostulation that he laughed heartily, +brightened up, and did not go to bed before Cosmo came--kept up, +indeed, a good part of the day, and retired with the sun shining in +at his western window. + +The next day, however, he did not rise. But he had no suffering to +speak of, and his face was serene as the gathering of the sunrays +to go down together; a perfect yet deepening peace was upon it. +Cosmo scarcely left him, but watched and waited, with a cold spot +at his heart, which kept growing bigger and bigger, as he saw his +father slowly drifting out on the ebb-tide of this earthly life. +Cosmo had now to go through that most painful experience of +all--when the loved seem gradually withdrawing from human contact +and human desires, their cares parting slowly farther and farther +from the cares of those they leave--a gulf ever widening between, +already impassable as lapsing ages can make it. But when final +departure had left the mind free to work for the heart, Cosmo said +to himself--"What if the dying who seem thus divided from us, are +but looking over the tops of insignificant earthly things? What if +the heart within them is lying content in a closer contact with +ours than our dull fears and too level outlook will allow us to +share? One thing their apparent withdrawal means--that we must go +over to them; they cannot retrace, for that would be to retrograde. +They have already begun to learn the language and ways of the old +world, begun to be children there afresh, while we remain still the +slaves of new, low--bred habits of unbelief and self-preservation, +which already to them look as unwise as unlovely. But our turn will +come, and we shall go after, and be taught of them. In the meantime +let us so live that it may be the easier for us in dying to let the +loved ones know that we are loving them all the time." + +The laird ceased to eat, and spoke seldom, but would often +smile--only there was in his smile too that far-off something which +troubled his son. One word he often murmured--PEACE. Two or three +times there came as it were a check in the drift seaward, and he +spoke plainly. This is very near what he said on one of these +occasions: + +"Peace! peace! Cosmo, my son, ye dinna ken hoo strong it can be! +Naebody can ken what it's like till it comes. I hae been troubled +a' my life, an' noo the verra peace is 'maist ower muckle for me! +It's like as gien the sun wad put oot the fire. I jist seem whiles +to be lyin' here waitin' for ye to come intil my peace, an' be ane +wi' me! But ye hae a lang this warl's life afore ye yet. Eh! winna +it be gran' whan it's weel ower, an' ye come! You an' me an' yer +mother an' God an' a'! But somehoo I dinna seem to be lea'in' ye +aither--no half sae muckle as whan ye gaed awa' to the college, an' +that although ye're ten times mair to me noo than ye war than. +Deith canna weel be muckle like onything we think aboot it; but +there maun surely be a heap o' fowk unco dreary an' fusionless i' +the warl' deith taks us til; an' the mair I think aboot it, the +mair likly it seems we'll hae a heap to du wi' them--a sair wark +tryin' to lat them ken what they are, an' whaur they cam frae, an' +hoo they maun gang to win hame--for deith can no more be yer hame +nor a sair fa' upo' the ro'd be yer bed. There may be mony ane +there we ca'd auld here,'at we'll hae to tak like a bairn upo' oor +knees an' bring up. I see na anither w'y o' 't. The Lord may ken a +better, but I think he's shawn me this. For them 'at are Christ's +maun hae wark like his to du, an' what for no the personal +ministrations o' redemption to them 'at are deid, that they may +come alive by kennin' him? Auld bairns as weel as yoong hae to be +fed wi' the spune." + +The day before that on which he went, he seemed to wake up +suddenly, and said,-- + +"Cosmo, I'm no inclined to mak a promise wi'regaird to ony +possible communication wi' ye frae the ither warl', nor do I +the least expec' to appear or speyk to ye. But ye needna for that +conclude me awa' frae ye a' thegither. Fowk may hae a hantle o' +communication ohn aither o' them kent it at the time, I'm thinkin'. +Min' this ony gait: God's oor hame, an' gien ye be at hame an' I be +at hame, we canna be far sun'ert!" + +As the sun was going down, closing a lovely day of promise, the +boat of sleep, with a gentle wind of life and birth filling its +sail, bore, softly gliding, the old pilgrim across the faint border +between this and that. It may be that then, for a time, like a babe +new-born, he needed careful hands and gentle nursing; and if so, +there was his wife, who must surely by now have had time to grow +strong. Cosmo wept and was lonely, but not broken-hearted; for he +was a live man with a mighty hope and great duties, each of them +ready to become a great joy. Such a man I do not think even +diamonds could hurt, although, where breathes no wind of life, +those very crystals of light are amongst the worst in Beelzebub's +army to fly-blow a soul into a thing of hate and horror. + + + + +CHAPTER LIX. + +A BREAKING UP. + + +Things in the castle went on in the same quiet way as before for +some time. Cosmo settled himself in his father's room, and read and +wrote, and pondered and aspired. The household led the same homely +simple life, only fared better. The housekeeping was in Grizzie's +hands, and she was a liberal soul--a true BREAD-GIVER. + +James Gracie did not linger long behind his friend. His last words +were, "I won'er gien I hae a chance o' winnin' up wi' the laird!" + +On the morning that followed his funeral, as soon as breakfast was +over, Aggie sought Cosmo, where he sat in the garden with a book in +his hand. + +"Whaur are ye gaein', Aggie?" he said, as she approached prepared +for walking. + +"MY hoor's come," she answered. "It's time I was awa'." + +"I dinna un'erstan' ye, Aggie," he returned. + +"Hoo sud ye, sir? Ilka body kens, or sud ken, what lies to their +ain han'. It lies to mine to gang. I'm no wantit langer. Ye wadna +hae me ait the breid o' idleness?" + +"But, Aggie," remonstrated Cosmo, "ye're ane o' the faimily! I wad +as sune think o' seein' my ain sister, gien I had ane, gang fra +hame for sic a nae rizzon at a'!" + +The tears rose in her eyes, and her voice trembled: + +"It canna be helpit; I maun gang," she said. + +Cosmo was dumb for many moments; he had never thought of such a +possibility; and Aggie stood silent before him. + +"What hae ye i' yer heid, Aggie? What thoucht ye o' duin' wi' +yersel'?" he asked at length, his heart swelling so that he could +scarcely bring out the words. + +"I'm gaein' to luik for a place." + +"But, Aggie, gien it canna be helpit; and gang ye maun, YE ken I'm +rich, an' _I_ ken there's naebody i' the warl' wi' a better richt +to share in what I hae: wadna ye like to gang til a ladies' school, +an' learn a heap o' things?" + +"Na, I wadna. It's hard wark I need to haud me i' the richt ro'd. I +can aye learn what I hunger for, an' what ye dinna desire ye'll +never learn. Thanks to yersel' an' Maister Simon, ye hae putten me +i' the w'y o' that! It's no kennin' things--it's kennin' things +upo' the ro'd ye gang,'at 's o' consequence to ye. The lave I mak +naething o'." + +"But a time micht come whan ye wad want mony a thing ye micht hae +learnt afore." + +"Whan that time comes, I'll learn them than, wi' half the trouble, +an' in half the time,--no to mention the pleesur o' learnin' them. +Noo, they wad but tak me frae the things I can an' maun mak use o'. +Na, Cosmo, I'm b'un' to du something wi' what I hae, an' no bide +till I get mair. I'll be aye gettin'." + +"Weel, Aggie, I daurna temp' ye to bide gien ye oucht to gang; an' +ye wad but despise me gien I was fule eneuch to try 't. But ye +canna refuse to share wi' me. That wadna be like ane 'at had the +same father an' the same maister. Tak a thoosan' poun' to begin +wi', an' gang an'--an' du onything ye like, only dinna work yersel' +to deith wi' rouch wark. I canna bide to think o' 't." + +"A thoosan' poun'! No ae baubee! Cosmo, I wad hae thoucht ye had +mair sense! What wad baudrins (PUSSY-CAT) there du wi' a silk goon? +Ye can gie me the twa poun' ten I gae to Grizzie to help haud the +life in 's a'. A body maun hae something i' their pooch gien they +can, an' gien they canna, they maun du wi' naething. It's won'erfu' +hoo little 's railly wantit!" + +Cosmo felt miserable. + +"Ye winna surely gang ohn seein' Maister Simon!" + +"I tried to see him last nicht, but auld Dorty wadna lat me near +him. I WAD fain say fareweel til him." + +"Weel, put aff gaein' awa' till the morn, an' we'll gang thegither +the nicht an' see him. Dorty winna haud ME oot." + +Aggie hesitated, thought, and consented. Leaving Cosmo more +distressed than she knew, she went to the kitchen, took off her +bonnet, and telling Grizzie she was not going till the morrow, sat +down, and proceeded to pare the potatoes. + +"Ance mair," said Grizzie, resuming an unclosed difference, "what +for ye sud gang's clean 'ayont me. It's true the auld men are awa', +but here's the auld wife left, an' she'll be a mither to ye, as +weel's she kens hoo, an' a lass o' your sense is easy to mither. I' +the name o' God I say't, the warl' micht as weel objec' to twa +angels bidin' i' h'aven thegither as you an' the yoong laird in ae +hoose! Say 'at they like, ye're but a servan' lass, an' here am I +ower ye! Aggie, I'm grouin' auld, an' railly no fit to mak a bed my +lane--no to mention scoorin' the flure! It's no considerate o' ye, +Aggie!--jist 'cause yer father--hoots, he was but yer gran'father! +--'s deid o' a guid auld age, an' gaithert til HIS fathers, to gang +an' lea' me my lane! Whaur am I to get a body I cud bide to hae i' +my sicht, an' you awa'--you 'at's been like bane o' my bane to me! +It's no guid o' ye, Aggie! There maun be temper intil 't! I'm sure +I ken no cause ever I gae ye." + +Aggie said not a word; she had said all she could say, over and +over; so now she pared her potatoes, and was silent. Her heart was +sore, but her mind was clear, and her will strong. + +Up and down the little garden Cosmo walked, revolving many things. +"What is this world and its ways," he said, "but a dream that +dreams itself out and is gone!" + +The majority of men, whether they think or not, worship solidity +and fact: to such Cosmo's conclusion must seem both foolish and +dangerous--though a dream may be filled with truth, and a fact be a +mere shred for the winds of the limbo of vanities. Everything that +CAN pass belongs to the same category with the dream. The question +is whether the passing body leaves a live soul; whether the dream +has been dreamed, the life lived aright. For there is a reality +beyond all facts of suns and systems; solidity itself is but the +shadow of a divine necessity; and there may be more truth in a +fable than in a whole biography. Where life and truth are one, +there is no passing, no dreaming more. To that waking all dreams +truly dreamed are guiding the dreamer. But the last thing--and this +was the conclusion of Cosmo's meditation--any dreamer needs regard, +is the judgment of other dreamers upon his dreams. The +all-pervading, ill-odoured phantom called Society is but the ghost +of a false God. The fear of man, the trust in man, the deference to +the opinion of man, is the merest worship of a rag-stuffed idol. +The man who SEEKS the judgment of God can well smile at the +unsolicited approval or condemnation of self-styled Society. There +IS a true society--quite another thing. Doubtless the judgment of +the world is of even moral value to those capable of regarding it. +To deprive a thief of the restraining influence of the code of +thieves' honour, would be to do him irreparable wrong; so with the +tradesman whose law is the custom of the trade; but God demands an +honesty, a dignity, a beauty of being, altogether different from +that demanded by man of his fellow; and he who is taught of God is +set out of sight above such law as that of thieves' honour, +trade-custom, or social recognition--all of the same +quality--subjected instead to a law which obeyed is liberty, +disobeyed is a hell deeper than Society's attendant slums. + +"Here is a woman," said Cosmo to himself, "who, with her earnings +and her labour both, ministered to the very bodily life of my +father and myself! She has been in the house the angel of God--the +noblest, truest of women! She has ten times as much genuine +education as most men who have been to college! Her brain is second +only to her heart!--If it had but pleased God to make her my +sister! But there is a way of pulling out the tongue of Slander!" + +The evening was Mr. Simon's best time, and they therefore let the +sun go down before they left the castle to visit him. On their way +they had a right pleasant talk about old things, now the one now +the other bringing some half faded event from the store-closet of +memory. + +"I doobt ye winna min' me takin' ye oot o' the Warlock ae day there +was a gey bit o' a spait on?" said Agnes at length, looking up in +Cosmo's face. + +"Eh, I never h'ard o' that, Aggie!" replied Cosmo. + +"I canna think to this day hoo it was ye fell in," she went on: "I +hadna the chairge o' ye at the time. Ye maun hae run oot o' the +hoose, an' me efter ye. I was verra near taen awa' wi' ye. Hoo we +wan oot o' the watter I canna un'erstan'. A' 'at I ken is 'at whan +I cam to mysel', we war lyin' grippit til ane anither upon a laich +bit o' the bank." + +"But hoo was't 'at naebody ever said a word aboot it efterhin'?" +asked Cosmo. "I never tellt onybody, an' ye wasna auld eneuch no to +forget a' aboot it." + +"What for didna ye tell?" + +"I was feart they wad think it my wite, an' no lat me tak chairge +o' ye ony mair, whauras I kent ye was safer wi' me nor wi' ony +ither aboot the place. Gien it had been my wite, I cudna hae hauden +my tongue; but as it was, I didna see I was b'un' to tell." + +"Hoo did ye hide it?" + +"I ran wi' he hame to oor ain hoose. There was naebody there. I +tuik aff yer weet claes, an' pat ye intil my bed till I got them +dry." + +"An' hoo did ye wi' yer ain?" + +"By the time yours was dry, mine was dry tu." + +When they arrived at the cottage, Dorty demurred, but her master +heard Cosmo's voice and rang his bell. + +"I little thought your father would have gone before me," said Mr. +Simon. "I think I was aware of his death. I saw nothing, heard +nothing, neither was I thinking about him at the moment; but he +seemed to come to me, and I said to myself,'He is on his way home.' +I shall have a talk with him by and by." + +Agnes told him she had come to bid him good-bye; she was going +after a place. + +"Well," he answered, after a thoughtful pause, "so long as we obey +the light in us, and that light is not darkness, we can't go wrong. +If we should mistake, he will turn things round for us; and if we +be to blame, he will let us see it." + +He was weak, and they did not stay long. + +"Don't judge my heart by my words, my dear scholars," he said. "My +heart is right toward you, but I am too weary to show it. God bless +you both. I may not see you again, Agnes, but I shall think of you +there, and if I can do anything for you, be sure I will." + +When they left the cottage, the twilight was halfway towards the +night, and a vague softness in the east prophesied the moon. Cosmo +led Agnes through the fields to the little hollow where she had so +often gone to seek him. There they sat down in the grass, and +waited for the moon. Cosmo pointed out the exact spot where she +rose that night she looked at him through the legs of the cow. + +"Ye min' Grizzie's rime," he said: + +"'Whan the coo loups ower the mune, The reid gowd rains intil men's +shune'? + +"I believe Grizzie took the queer sicht for a guid omen. It's unco +strange hoo fowk 'll mix up God an' chance, seein' there could +hardly be twa mair contradictory ideas! I min' ance hearin' a man +say,'It's almost a providence!'" + +"I doobt wi' maist fowk," said Aggie, "it's only 'There's almost a +God.' For my pairt I see nae room atween no believin' in him at a', +an' believin' in him a' thegither an' lattin him du what he likes +wi' 's." + +"I'm o' your min' there, Aggie, oot an' oot," responded Cosmo. + +As he spoke the moon came peering up, and, turning to Agnes to +share the sight with her, he saw the yellow light reflected from +tears. "Aggie! Aggie!" he said, in much concern, "what are ye +greitin' for?" + +She made no answer, but wiped away her tears, and tried to smile. +After a little pause, + +"Ony body wad think, Cosmo," she said, "'at gien I believed in a +God, he maun be a sma' ane! What for sud onybody greit 'at has but +a far awa' notion o' sic a God as you an' the laird an' Maister +Simon believes in!" + +"Ye may weel say that, Aggie!" rejoined Cosmo--yet sighed as he +said it, for he thought of Lady Joan. A long pause followed, and +then he spoke again. + +"Aggie," he said, "there canna weel be twa i' this warl' 'at ken +ane anither better nor you an' me. We hae been bairns thegither; we +hae been to the schuil thegither; we hae had the same maister; we +hae come throu dour times thegither--I doobt we hae been hungry +thegither, though ye saidna a word; we hae warstlet wi' poverty, +an' maybe wi' unbelief; we loe the same fowk best; an' abune a' we +set the wull o' God. It wad be sair upo' baith o' 's to pairt--an' +to me a vex forby 'at the first thing w'alth did for me sud be to +tak you awa'. It wad 'maist brak my hert to think 'at her 'at cam +throu the lan' o' drowth wi' me--ay, tuik me throu' 't' for, +wantin' her, I wad hae fa'en to rise nae mair, sud gang on climmin' +the dry hill-ro'd, an' me lyin' i' the bonny meadow-gerse at the +fut o' 't. It canna be rizzon, Aggie! What for sud ye gang? Merry +me, Aggie, an' bide--bide an' ca' the castel yer ain." + +"Hoots! wad ye merry yer mither!" cried Agnes, and to Cosmo's fresh +dismay burst into laughter and tears together. I believe it was the +sole time in her life she ever gave way to discordant emotion. + +Cosmo stared speechless. It was as if an angel had made a poor +human joke! He was much too bewildered to feel hurt, especially as +he was aware of no committed absurdity. + +But Aggie was not pleased with herself. She choked her tears, +crushed down her laughter, and conquered. She took his hand in +hers. + +"I beg yer pardon, Cosmo," she said; "I shouldna hae lauchen. +Lauchin', I'm sure,'s far eneuch frae my hert! I kenna hoo I cam to +du 't. But ye're sic a bairn, Cosmo! Ye dinna ken what ye wad hae! +An' bein' a kin' o' a mither to ye a' yer life, I maun lat ye see +what ye're aboot--I wadna insist owersair upo' the years atween 's, +though that's no a sma' maitter, but surely ye haena to be tellt at +this time o' day,'at for fowk to merry 'at dinna loe ane anither, +is little gien it be onything short o' a sin." + +"_I_ hae aye loed YOU, Aggie," said Cosmo, with some reproach in +his tone. + +"Weel du I ken that. An ill hert wad be mine gien it didna tell me +that! But, Cosmo, whan ye said the word, didna YOUR hert tell ye ye +meant by 't something no jist the verra same as ye inten' it me to +un'erstan' by 't?" + +"Aggie, Aggie!" sighed Cosmo, "I wad aye loe ye better an' better." + +"Ay, ye wad, gien ye cud, Cosmo. But ye're ower honest to see +throu' yersel'; an' I'm no sae honest but I can see throu' you. Ye +wad merry me 'cause ye're no wullin' to pairt wi' me, likin' me +better nor ony but ane, an' her ye canna get! Gien I was a leddy, +Cosmo, maybe I michtna be ower prood to tak ye upo' thae terms, but +no bein' what I am. It wad need love as roon's a sphere for that. +Eh, but there micht come a time o' sair repentance! Ance merried +upo' you, gien I war to tak it intil my heid 'at I was ae hair i' +yer gait, or 'at ye was ae hair freer like wi me oot o' yer sicht, +I wad be like to rin to the verra back-wa' o' creation! Na; it was +weel eneuch as we hae been, but MERRIED! Ye wad be guid to me aye, I +ken that, but I wad be aye wantin' to be deid,'at ye micht loe me +a wee better. I say naething o' what the warl' wad say to the laird +o' Glenwarlock merryin' his servan' lass; for ye care as little for +the warl' as I du, an' we're baith some wiser nor it. But efter a', +Cosmo, I wad be some oot o' my place--wadna I noo? The hen-birds +nae doobt are aye the soberer to luik at, an' haena the gran' +colours nor the gran' w'ys wi' them 'at the cocks hae; but still +there's a measur in a' thing: it wad ill set a common hen to hae a +peacock for her man. My sowl, I ken, wad gang han' in han', in a +heumble w'y, wi' yours, for I un'erstan' ye, Cosmo; an' the day may +come whan I'll luik fitter for yer company nor I can the noo; but +wha like me could help a sense o' unfitness, gien it war but gaein' +to the kirk side by side wi' you? Luik at the twa o' 's noo i' the +munelicht thegither! Dinna ye see 'at we dinna match?" + +"A' that wad be naething gien ye loed me, Aggie." + +"Gien YE loed ME, say, Cosmo--loed me eneuch to be prood o' me! But +that ye dinna. Exem' yer ain hert, an' ye'll see 'at ye dinna.--An' +what for sud ye!" + +Here Aggie broke down. A burst of silent weeping, like that of one +desiring no comfort, followed. Suddenly she ceased and rose, and +they walked home without a word. + +When Cosmo came down in the morning, Aggie was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER LX. + +REPOSE. + + +Cosmo had no need of a very searching examination of his heart to +know that it was mainly the wish to make her some poor return for +her devotion, conjoined with the sincere desire to retain her +company, that had influenced him in the offer she had been too wise +and too genuinely loving to accept. He did not fall into any depths +of self-blame, for, whatever its kind, his love was of quality pure +and good. The only bitterness his offer bore was its justification +of Agnes's departure. + +But Grizzie saw no justification of it anywhere. + +"What I'm to du wantin' her, I div not ken. NO BECOMIN', quo' he, +FOR A LASS LIKE HER TO BIDE WI' A BACHELOR LIKE HIMSEL'! + +"H'ard ever onybody sic styte! As gien she had been a lady +forsooth! I micht wi' jist as muckle sense objec' to bidin' wi' him +mysel'! But Is' du what I like, an' lat fowk say 'at they like, sae +lang as I'm na fule i' my ain e'en!" + + "I'm ower white, Mr. Gled, for you. + Ow na! ye're no that, bonny doo." + +But by degrees Cosmo grew gently ashamed of himself that he had so +addressed Agnes. He saw in the thing a failure in respect, a wrong +to her dignity. That she had taken it so sweetly did not alter its +character. Seeming at the time to himself to be going against the +judgment of the world, and treating it with the contempt it always +more or less deserves, he had in reality been acting in no small +measure according to it! For had there not been in him a vague +condescension operant all the time? Had he not been all but +conscious of the feeling that his position made up for any want in +his love? Had she been conventionally a lady, instead of an angel +in peasant form, would he have been so ready to return her kindness +with an offer of marriage? There was little conceit in supposing +that some, even of higher position than his own, would have +accepted the offer on lower terms; but knowing Aggie as he did, he +ought not to have made it to her: she was too large and too fine +for such an experiment. This he now fully understood; and had he +not been brought up with her from childhood as with an elder +sister, she might even now have begun to be a formidable rival to +the sweet memories of Joan's ladyhood. For he saw in her that which +is at the root, not only of all virtue, but of all beauty, of all +grandeur, of all growth, of all attraction. Every charm--in its +essence, in its development, in its embodiment, is a flower of the +tree of life, whose root is the truth. I see the smile of the +shallow philosopher, thinking of a certain lady to him full of +charm, who has no more love for the truth than a mole for the +light. But that lady's charm does not spring out of her; it has +been put upon her, and she will soon destroy it. It comes of truth +otherwhere, and will one day leave her naked and not lovely. The +truth was in Agnes merely supreme. To have asked such a one to +marry him for reasons lower than the highest was good ground for +shame. Not therefore even then was he PAINFULLY ashamed, for he +felt safe with Agnes, as with the elder sister that pardons +everything. + +It was some little time before they had any news of her; but they +heard at last that she had rented Grannie's cottage from her +grand-daughter, her own aunt, and was going to have a school there +for young children. Cosmo was greatly pleased, for the work would +give scope to some of her highest gifts and best qualities, while +it would keep her within reach of possible service. Nothing however +can part those who are of the true mind towards the things that +ARE. + +Cosmo betook himself heartily to study, and not only read but wrote +regularly every day--no more with the design of printing, but in +the hope of shaping more thoroughly and so testing more truly his +contemplations and conclusions. I scorn the idea that a man cannot +think without words, but Cosmo thus improved his thinking, and +learned to utter accurately, that is, to say the thing he meant, +and keep from saying the thing he did not mean. + +The room over the kitchen, which had first in his memory been his +grandmother's, then became his own, and returned to his disposal +when James Gracie died, he made his study; and from it to the +drawing-room, with the assistance of a village mason, excavated a +passage--for it was little less than excavation--in the wall +connecting the two blocks, under the passage in which had lain the +treasure. + +The main issue Grizzie's new command of money found was in a +torrent of cleaning. If she could have had her way, I think she +would have put up scaffolds all over the outside of the house, and +scrubbed it down from chimneys to foundations. + +On the opposite side of the Warlock river, the laird rented a +meadow, and there Grizzie had the long disused satisfaction of +seeing two cows she could call hers, the finest cows in the +country, feeding with a vague satisfaction in the general order of +things. The stable housed a horse after Cosmo's own heart, on which +he made excursions into the country round, partly in the hope of +coming upon some place not too far off where there was land to be +bought. + +All that was known of the change in his circumstances was that he +had come into a large fortune by the death--date not mentioned--of +a relative with whom his father had not for years had +communication, and Cosmo never any. Lord Lick-my-loof, after +repeated endeavours to get some information about this relative, +was perplexed, and vaguely suspicious. + +How the spending of the money thus committed to him was to change +the earthly issues of his life, Cosmo had not yet learned, and was +waiting for light on the matter. For a man is not bound to walk in +the dark, neither must, for the sake of doing something, run the +risk of doing wrong. He that believeth shall not make haste; and he +that believeth not shall come no speed. He had nothing of the +common mammonistic feeling of the enormous importance of money, +neither felt that it laid upon him a heavier weight of duty than +any other of the gifts of God. And if a poet is not bound to rush +into the world with his poem, surely a rich man is not bound to +rush into the world with his money. Rather set a herd of wild +horses loose in a city! A man must know first how to USE his money, +before he begin to spend it. And the way to use money is not so +easily discovered as some would think, for it is not one of God's +ready means of doing good. The rich man as such has no reason to +look upon himself as specially favoured. He has reason to think +himself specially tried. Jesus, loving a certain youth, did him the +greatest kindness he had in his power, telling him to give his +wealth to the poor, and follow him in poverty. The first question +is not how to do good with money, but how to keep from doing harm +with it. Whether rich or poor, a man must first of all do justice, +love mercy, and walk humbly with his God; then, if he be rich, God +will let him know how to spend. There must be ways in which, even +now, a man may give the half, or even the whole of his goods to the +poor, without helping the devil. Cosmo, I repeat, was in no haste: +it is not because of God's poverty that the world is so slowly +redeemed. Not the most righteous expenditure of money will save it, +but that of life and soul and spirit--it may be, to that, of nerve +and muscle, blood and brain. All these our Lord spent--but no +money. Therefore I say, that of all means for saving the world, or +doing good, as it is called, money comes last in order, and far +behind. + +Out of the loneliness in which his father left him, grew a great +peace and new strength. More real than ever was the other world to +him now. His father could not have vanished like a sea-bubble on +the sand! To have known a great man--perhaps I do not mean such a +man as my reader may be thinking of--is to have some assurance of +immortality. One of the best of men said to me once that he did not +feel any longing after immortality, but, when he thought of certain +persons, he could not for a moment believe they had ceased. He had +beheld the lovely, believed therefore in the endless. + +Castle Warlock was scarcely altered in appearance. In its worst +poverty it had always looked dignified. There was more life about +it and freedom, but not so much happiness. The diamonds had come, +but his father was gone, Aggie was gone, Mr. Simon was going, and +Joan would not come! Cosmo had scarce a hope for this world; yet +not the less did he await the will of The Will. What that was, time +would show, for God works in time. + + + + +CHAPTER LXI. + +THE THIRD HARVEST. + + +As the days went by, Cosmo saw his engagement to Mr. Henderson +drawing near, nor had the smallest inclination to back out of it. +The farmer would have let him off at once, no doubt, but he felt, +without thinking, that it would be undignified, morally speaking, +to avoid, because he was now in plenty, the engagement granted by +friendship to his need. Nor was this all, for, so doing, he would +seem to allow that, driven by necessity, he had undertaken a thing +unworthy, or degrading; for Cosmo would never have allowed that any +degree of hunger could justify a poor man in doing a thing +disgraceful to a rich man. No true man will ever ask of fellow +creature, man or woman, on terms however extravagant, the doing of +a thing he could not do himself without a sense of degradation. +There is no leveller like Christianity--but it levels by lifting to +a lofty table-land, accessible only to humility. He only who is +humble can rise, and rising lift. + +In thus holding to what he had undertaken, a man of lower nature +might have had respect to the example he would so give: Cosmo +thought only of honourable and grateful fulfilment of his contract. +Not only would it have been a poor return for Mr. Henderson's +kindness to treat his service as something beneath him now, but, +worst of all, it would have been to accept ennoblement at the hands +of Mammon, as of a power able to alter his station in God's world. +To change the spirit of one's ways because of money, is to confess +onesself a born slave, a thing of outsides, a knight of Riches, +with a maggot for his crest. + +When the time came, therefore, Cosmo presented himself. With a look +of astonishment shadowed by disappointment, the worthy farmer held +out his hand. + +"Laird," he said, "I didna expec' YOU!" + +"What for no?" returned Cosmo. "Haena I been yer fee'd man for +months!" + +"Ye put me in a kin' o' a painfu' doobt, laird. Fowk tellt me ye +had fa'en heir til a sicht o' siller!" + +"But allooin', hoo sud that affec' my bargain wi' you Mr. +Henderson? Siller i' the pooch canna tak obligation frae the back." + +"Drivin' things to the wa', nae doobt!" returned the farmer. "I +micht certainly hae ta'en the law o' ye, failin' yer appearance. +But amo' freen's, that cudna be; an' 'deed, Mr. Warlock, gien a +body wad be captious, michtna he say it wad hae been mair freen'ly +to beg aff?" + +"A bargain's a bargain," answered Cosmo; "an' to beg aff o' ane +'cause I was nae langer i' the same necessity as whan I made it, +wad hae been a mere shame. Gien my father hed been wi' me, an' no +weel eneuch to like me oot o' 's sicht, I wad hae beggit aff fest +eneuch, but wi' no rizzon it wad hae been ill-mainnert, no to say +dishonest an' oongratefu'. Gien ye hae spoken to ony ither i' my +place, he s' hae the fee, an' Is' hae the wark. Lat things stan', +Mr. Henderson." + +"Laird!" answered the farmer, not a little moved, "there's no a man +I wad raither see at my wark nor yersel'. A' o' them, men an' +women, work the better whan ye're amo' them. They wad be affrontit +no to haud up wi' a gentleman! Sae come awa' an' walcome!--ye'll +tak something afore we fa'tu?" + +Cosmo accepted a jug of milk, half cream, from the hand of Elsie. + +The girl was much improved, having partially unlearned a good deal +of the nonsense gathered at school, and come to take a fair share +with her sisters in the work of the house and farm--enlightened +thereto doubtless by her admiration for Cosmo. It is not from those +they marry people always learn most. + +When Cosmo reached the end of the first bout, and stood to sharpen +his scythe, he was startled to see, a little way off, gathering +after one of the scythes, a form he could not mistake. SHE had +known he would keep his troth! She did not look up, but he knew her +figure and every motion of it too well to take her for another than +Aggie. + +That she thus exposed herself to misrepresentation, Aggie was well +enough aware, but with the knowledge of how things stood between +her and Cosmo, she was far above heeding the danger. Those who do +the truth are raised even above defying the world. Defiance betrays +a latent respect, but Aggie gave herself no more trouble about the +opinion of the world than that of a lower animal. Those who are of +the world may defy, but they cannot ignore it. + +She had declined being a party to Cosmo's marrying his mother, but +was not therefore prepared to expose him undefended to any one +whatever who might wish to take him, even should she be of age +unobjectionable; and she knew one who would at least be hampered by +no scruples arising from conscious unfitness. Agnes might well have +thought it better he should marry the cottar's than the farmer's +daughter! Anyhow she was resolved to keep an eye on the young woman +so long as Cosmo was within her swoop. He was chivalrous and +credulous, and who could tell what Elsie might not dare! Her +refusal to be his wife did not deprive her of antecedent rights. +And there she was, gathering behind Cosmo, as two years ago! + +The instant she was free, Aggie set out for home, not having +exchanged a word with Cosmo, but intending to linger on the way in +the hope of his overtaking her. The Hendersons would have had him +stay the night, but he had given his man orders to wait him with +his horse at a certain point on the road; and Aggie had not gone +far before he got up with her. + +Whatever was or had been the state of her feelings towards Cosmo, +she had never mistaken his towards her; neither had she failed to +see that his heart was nowise wounded by her refusal of his offer: +it would have been a little comfort to her, having to be severe +with herself, to see some sign of suffering in him, but she had got +over much, and now was nowise annoyed at the cheery unembarrassed +tone in which he called out when he saw her, and turning greeted +him with the same absence of constraint. + +"An' sae ye're gaein' to tak the bairnies un'er yer wing, Aggie!" +said Cosmo, as they walked along. "They're lucky little things +'at'll gang to your schuil! What pat it i' yer heid?" + +"Mr. Simon advised it," answered Aggie; "but I believe I pat it in +his heid first, sayin' hoo little was dune for the bairnies jist at +the time they war easiest to guide. Rouch wark maks the han's +rouch, and rouch words maks the hert rouch." + +"The haill country-side 'ill be gratefu' to ye, Aggie.--Ye'll lat +me come an' see ye whiles?" + +"Nane sae welcome," answered Aggie. "But wull ye be bidin' on, noo +'at ye haena him 'at's gane? Winna ye be gaein' awa', to write +buiks, an' gar fowk fin' oot what's the maitter wi' them?" + +"I dinna ken what I'm gaein' to du," answered Cosmo. "But for +writin' buiks, I could do that better at hame nor ony ither gait, +wi' a'thing min'in' me o' my father, an' you nearhan' to gie me +coonsel." + +"I hae aye been yours to comman', Cosmo," replied Aggie, looking +down for one moment, then immediately up again in his face. + +"An' ye're no angert wi' me, Aggie?" + +_"Angert!"_ repeated Aggie, and looked at him with a glow angelic in +her honest, handsome face, and her eyes as true as the heavens. "It +was only 'at ye didna ken what ye war aboot, an' bein' sae muckle +yoonger nor mysel', I was b'un' to tak care o' ye; for a wuman as +weel's a man maun be her brither's keeper. Ye see yersel' I was +richt!" + +"Ay was ye, Aggie," answered Cosmo, ashamed and almost vexed at +having to make the confession. + +He did not see the heave of Aggie's bosom, nor how she held back +and broke into nothing the sigh that would have followed. + +"But," she resumed, after a moment's pause, "a' lasses michtna ken +sae weel what was fittin' them, nor care sae muckle what was guid +for you; naebody livin' can ken ye as I du! an' gien ye war to lat +a lass think ye cared aboot her--it micht be but as a freen', but +she micht be sae ta'en' wi' ye--'at--'at maybe she micht gar ye +think 'at hoo she cudna live wantin' ye--an' syne, what ye du than, +Cosmo?" + +It was a situation in which Cosmo had never imagined himself, and +he looked at Aggie a little surprised. + +"I dinna freely un'erstan' ye," he said. + +"Na, I reckon no! Hoo sud ye! Ye're jist ower semple for this +warl', Cosmo! But I'll put it plainer:--what wad ye du gien a lass +was to fa' a greitin', an' a wailin', an' fling hersel' i' yer +airms, an' mak as gien she wad dee?--what wad ye du wi' her, +Cosmo?" + +"'Deed I dinna ken," replied Cosmo with some embarrassment. "What +wad ye hae me du, Aggie?" + +"I wad hae ye set her doon whaur ye stude, gien upo' the ro'd, than +upo' the dyke, gien i' the hoose, than upo' the nearest chair, and +tak to yer legs an' rin. Bide na to tak yer bonnet, but rin an' rin +till ye're better nor sure she can never win up wi' ye. An' +specially gien the name o' the lass sud begin wi' an' E an' gang on +till an L, I wad hae ye rin as gien the auld captain was efter ye." + +"I hae had sma' occasion," said Cosmo, "to rin fra HIM." + +And therewith, partly to change the subject, for he now understood +Aggie, and did not feel it right to talk about any girl as if she +could behave in the manner supposed, partly because he had long +desired an opportunity of telling her, he began, and gave her the +whole history of the discovery of the diamonds, omitting nothing, +even where the tale concerned Lady Joan. Before he got to the end +of it, they were at the place where the man was waiting with his +horse, and as that was the place where Aggie had to turn off to go +to Muir o' Warlock, there they parted. + + + + +CHAPTER LXII. + +A DUET, TRIO, AND QUARTET. + + +The next day things went much the same, only that Elsie was not in +the field. Cosmo, who had been thinking much over what Aggie had +said, and was not flattered that she should take him for the goose +he did not know himself to be, could hardly wait for the evening to +have another talk with her. + +"Aggie," he said, as he overtook her in a hollow not many yards +from the verge of the farm, "I dinna like ye to think me sic a +gowk! What gars ye suppose a lass could hae her wull o' me in sic a +w'y 's you? No 'at I believe ony lass wad behave like that! It's no +like yersel' to fancy sae ill o' yer ain kin'! I'm sure ye didna +discover thae things i' yerain hert! There's nae sic a lass." + +"What maitter whether there be sic a lass or no, sae lang as gien +there was ane, she wad be ower muckle for ye?" + +"That's ower again what I'm compleenin' o'! an' gien it war onybody +but yersel' 'at has a richt, I wad be angry, Aggie." + +"Cosmo," said Agnes solemnly, "ye're ower saft-hertit to the +women-fowk. I do believe--an' I tell ye't again in as mony +words--ye wad merry onylass raither nor see her in trible on your +accoont." + +"Ance mair, Aggie, what gies ye a richt to think sae ill o' me?" +demanded Cosmo. + +"Jist the w'y ye behaved to mysel'." + +"YE never tellt me ye couldna du wantin' me!" + +"I houp no, for it wadna hae been true. I can du wantin' ye weel +eneuch. But ye allooed ye wasna richt!" + +"Ay--it was a presumption." + +"Ay! but what made it a presumption?" + +Cosmo could not bear to say plainly to the girl he loved so much, +that he had not loved her so as to have a right to ask her to marry +him. He hesitated. + +"Ye didna loe me eneuch," said Aggie, looking up in his face. + +"Aggie," returned Cosmo, "I'm ready to merry ye the morn gien ye'll +hae me!" + +"There noo!" exclaimed Aggie, in a sort of provoked triumph, "didna +I tell ye! There ye are, duin' 't a' ower again! Wasna I richt? +Ye're fit to tak care o' onybody but yersel'--an' the lass 'at wad +fain hae ye! Eh, but sair ye need a sensible mitherly body like +mysel' to luik efter ye!" + +"Tak me, than, an' luik efter me at yer wull, Aggie; I mean what I +say!" persisted Cosmo, bewildered with embarrassment and a +momentary stupidity. + +"Ance mair, Cosmo, dinna be a gowk," said Agnes with severity. "Ye +loe ME ower little, an' I loe YOU ower muckle for that." + +"Ye're no angry at me, Aggie?" said Cosmo, almost timidly. + +"Angry at ye, my bonny lad!" cried Aggie, and looking up with a +world of tenderness in her eyes, and a divine glow of affection, +for hers was the love so sure of itself that it maketh not ashamed, +she threw her two strong, shapely honest arms round his neck; he +bent his head, she kissed him heartily on the mouth, and burst into +tears. Surely but for that other love that lay patient and hopeless +in the depth of Cosmo's heart, he would now have loved Aggie in a +way to satisfy her, and to justify him in saying he loved her! And +to that it might have come in time, but where is the use of saying +what might have been, when all things are ever moving towards the +highest and best for the individual as well as for the universe! +--not the less that hell may be the only path to it for some--the +hell of an absolute self-loathing. + +Just at that moment, who should appear on the top of a broken mound +of the moorland, where she stood in the light of the setting sun, +but Elsie, neatly dressed, glowing and handsome! A moment she +stood, then descended, a dark scorn shadowing in her eyes, and a +smile on her mouth showing the whitest of teeth. + +"Mr. Warlock," she said, and took no notice of his humble +companion, "my father sent me after you in a hurry as you may see," +--and she heaved a deep breath--"to say he doesn't think the bear +o' the Gowan Brae,'ill be fit for cutting this two days, an' +they'll gang to the corn upo' the heuch instead. He was going to +tell you himself, but ye was in such a hurry!" + +"I'm muckle obleeged to ye, Miss Elsie," replied Cosmo. "It'll save +me a half-mile i' the mornin'." + +"An' my father says," resumed Elsie, addressing Agnes, "yer wark's +no worth yer wages." + +Aggie turned upon her with flashing eyes and glowing face. + +"I dinna believe ye, Miss Elsie," she said. "I dinna believe yer +father said ever sic a word. He kens my wark's worth my wages +whatever he likes to set me til. Mair by token he wad hae tellt me +himsel'! I s' jist gang straucht back an' speir." + +She turned, evidently in thorough earnest, and set off at a rapid +pace back towards the house. Cosmo glanced at Elsie. She had turned +white--with the whiteness of fear, not of wrath. She had not +expected such action on the part of Aggie. She would be at once +found out! Her father was a man terrible in his anger, and her +conscience told her he would be angry indeed, angrier than she had +ever seen him! She stood like a statue, her eyes fixed on the +retreating form of the indignant Agnes, who reached the top of the +rising ground, and was beginning to disappear, before the spell of +her terror gave way. She turned with clasped hands to Cosmo, and +murmured, her white lips hardly able to fashion the words, + +"Mr. Warlock, for God's sake, cry her back. Dinna lat her gang to +my father." + +"Was the thing ye said no true?" asked Cosmo. + +"Weel," faltered Elsie, searching inside for some escape from +admission, "maybe he didna jist say the verra words,--" + +"Aggie maun gang," interrupted Cosmo. "She maunna lat it pass." + +"It was a lee! It was a lee!" gasped Elsie. + +Cosmo ran, and from the top of the rise called aloud, + +"Aggie! Aggie! come back." + +Beyond her he saw another country girl approaching, but took little +heed of her. Aggie turned at his call, and came to him quickly. + +"She confesses it's a lee, Aggie," he said. + +"She wadna, gien she hadna seen I was gaein' straucht til her +father!" returned Agnes. + +"I daursay; but God only kens hoo to mak the true differ 'atween +what we du o' oorsel's, an' what we're gart. We maun hae mercy, an' +i' the meantime she's ashamed eneuch. At least she has the luik o' +'t." + +"It's ae thing to be ashamed 'cause ye hae dune wrang, an' anither +to be ashamed 'cause ye're f'un' oot!" + +"Ay; but there compassion comes in to fill up; an' whan ye treat a +body wi' generosity, the hert wauks up to be worthy o' 't." + +"Cosmo, ye ken maist aboot the guid in fowk, an' I ken maist aboot +the ill," said Aggie. + +Here the young woman who had been nearing them scarce observed +while they talked, came up, and they turning to go back to Elsie, +where she still stood motionless, followed them at her own pace +behind. + +"I beg yer pardon, Aggie," said Elsie, holding out her hand. "I was +ill-natert, an' said the thing wasna true. My father says there +isna a better gatherer i' the countryside nor yersel'." Aggie took +her offered hand and said, + +"Lat by-ganes be by-ganes. Be true to me an' I'll be true to you. +An' I winna lee whether or no." + +Here the stranger joined them. She was a young woman in the garb of +a peasant, but with something about her not belonging to the +peasant. To the first glance she was more like a superior servant +out for a holiday, but a second glance was bewildering. She stopped +with a half timid but quiet look, then dropped her eyes with a +flush. + +"Will you please tell me if I am on the way to Castle Warlock?" she +said, with a quiver about her mouth which made her like a child +trying not to smile. + +Cosmo had been gazing at her: she reminded him Very strangely of +Joan; but the moment he heard her voice, which was as different +from that of a Scotch peasant as Tennyson's verse is from that of +Burns, he gave a cry, and was on his knees before her. + +"Joan!" he gasped, and seizing her hand, drew it to his lips, and +held it there. + +She made no sound or movement. Her colour went and came. Her head +drooped. She would have fallen, but Cosmo received her, and rising +with her, as one might with a child in his arms, turned, and began +to walk swiftly homeward. + +Aggie had a short fierce struggle with her rising heart, then +turned to Elsie, and said quietly, + +"Ye see we're no wantit!" + +"I see," returned Elsie. "But eh! she's a puir cratur." + +"No sae puir!" answered Aggie. "Wad YE dress up like a gran' leddy +to gang efter yer yoong man?" + +"Ay wad I--fest eneuch!" answered Elsie with scorn. + +Aggie saw her mistake. + +"Did ye tak notice o' her han's?" she said. + +"No, I didna." + +"Ye never saw sic han's! Did ye tak notice o' her feet?" + +"No, I didna." + +"Ye never saw sic feet! Yon's ane 'at canna gather, nor stock, nor +bin', but she's bonny a' throu', an' her v'ice is a sang, an' +she'll gang throu' fire an' waiter ohn blinkit for her love's sake. +Yon's the lass for oor laird! The like o' you an' me sud trible +heid nor hert aboot the likes o' HIM." + +"Speyk for yersel', lass," said Elsie. + +"I tellt ye," returned Aggie, quietly but with something like scorn, +"'at gien ye wad be true to me, I wad be true to you; but gie yersel' +airs, an' I say guid nicht, an' gang efter my fowk." + +She turned and departed, leaving Elsie more annoyed than repentant: +it may take a whole life to render a person capable of shame, not +to say sorrow, for the meanest thing of many he has done. + +And now, Aggie's heart lying stone-like within her as she followed +Cosmo with his treasure, her brain was alive and active for his +sake. Joan was herself again, Cosmo had set her down, and they were +walking side by side. "What are they going to do?" thought Aggie. +"Are they going straight home together? Why does she come now the +old laird is gone?" Such and many other questions she kept asking +herself in her carefulness over Cosmo. + +They passed the turning Aggie would have taken to go home; she +passed it too, following them steadily.--That old Grizzie was no +good! She must go home with them herself! If the reason for which +she left the castle was a wise one, she must now, for the same +reason, go back to it! Those two must not be there with nobody to +make them feel comfortable and taken care of! They must not be left +to feel awkward together! She must be a human atmosphere about +them, to shield them, and make home for them! Love itself may be +too lonely. It needs some reflection of its too lavish radiation. +--This was practically though not altogether in form what Agnes +thought. + +In the meantime, the first whelming joy-wave having retired, and +life and thought resumed their operations, they had begun to talk. + +"Where have you come from?" asked Cosmo. + +"From Cairntod, the place I came from that wild winter night," +answered Joan. + +"But you are. . . . when were you. . . . how long. . . . have +you been married?" + +"MARRIED!" echoed Joan. "Cosmo, how could you!" + +She looked up in his face wild and frightened. + +"Well, you never wrote! and--" + +"It was you never wrote!" + +"_I_ did not, but my father did, and got no answer." + +"I wrote again and again, and BEGGED for an answer, but none came. +If it hadn't been for the way I dreamed about you, I don't know +what would have become of me!" + +"The devil has been at old tricks, Joan!" + +"Doubtless--and I fear I have hardly to discover his agent." + +"And Mr. Jermyn?" said Cosmo, with a look half shy, half fearful, +as if after all some bolt must be about to fall. + +"I can tell you very little about him. I have scarcely seen him +since he brought me the money." + +"Then he didn't. . . . ?" + +"Well, what didn't he?" + +"I have no right to ask." + +"Ask me ANYTHING." + +"Didn't he ask you to marry him?" + +Joan laughed. + +"I had begun to be afraid he had something of the kind in his head, +when all at once I saw no more of him." + +"How was that?" + +"I can only guess: he may have spoken to my brother, and that was +enough." + +"Didn't you miss him?" + +"Life WAS a little duller." + +"If he HAD asked you to marry him, Joan?" + +"Well?" + +"Would you?" + +"Cosmo!" + +"You told me I might ask you anything!" + +She stood, turned to the roadside, and sat down on the low +earth-dyke. Her face was white. + +"Joan! Joan!" cried Cosmo, darting to her side; "what is it, Joan?" + +"Nothing; only a little faintness. I have walked a long way and am +getting tired." + +"What a brute I am!" said Cosmo, "to let you walk! I will carry you +again." + +"Indeed you will not!" she answered, moving a little from him. + +"Do you think you could ride on a man's saddle?" + +"I think so. I could well enough if I were not tired. But let me be +quiet a little." + +They were very near the place where Cosmo's horse must be waiting +him. He ran to take him and send the groom home with a message. + +To Joan it was a terrible moment. Had she, most frightful of +thoughts! been acting on a holy faith that yet had no foundation? +She had come to a man who asked her whether she would not have +married his friend! She had taken so much for understood that had +not been understood! + +When Joan sat down Agnes stopped--a good way off: till the moment +of service arrived she would be nothing. Several times she started +to run to her, for she feared something had gone wrong, but checked +herself lest she should cause more mischief by interfering. When +she saw her sink sideways on the dyke, she did run, but seeing +Cosmo hurrying back to her, stopped again. + +Before Cosmo reached her Joan had sat up. The same faith, or +perhaps rather hope, which had taken shape in her dreams, now woke +to meet the necessity of the hour. She rose as Cosmo came near, +saying she felt better now, and let him put her on the horse. + +But now Joan was determined to face the worst, to learn her +position and know what she must do. + +"Has the day not come yet, Cosmo?" she said. "Cannot you now tell +me why you left me so suddenly?" + +"It may come with your answer to the question I put to you," +replied Cosmo. + +"You are cruel, Cosmo!" + +"Am I? How? I do not understand." + +This was worse and worse, and Joan grew rather more than almost +angry. It is so horrid when the man you love WILL be stupid! She +turned her face away, and was silent. A man must sometimes take his +life in his hand, and at the risk of even unpardonable presumption, +suppose a thing yielded, that he may know whether it be or not. But +Cosmo was something of the innocent Aggie took him for. + +"Joan, I don't see how I am wrong, after the permission you gave +me," persisted he, too modest. "Agnes would have answered me +straight out." + +He forgot. + +"How do you know that? What have you ever asked her?" + +Joan, for one who refused an answer, was tolerably exacting in her +questions. And as she spoke she moved involuntarily a step farther +from him. + +"I asked her to marry me," replied Cosmo. + +"YOU ASKED HER TO MARRY YOU!" + +"Yes, but she wouldn't." + +"Why wouldn't she?" + +Joan's face was now red as fire, and she was biting her lip hard. + +"She had more reasons against it than one. Oh, Joan, she IS so +good!" + +"And you are going to marry her?" + +Instead of answering her question, Cosmo turned and called to +Agnes, some thirty yards behind them: + +"Come here, Aggie." + +Agnes came quickly. + +"Tell Lady Joan," he said, "what for ye wadna merry me." + +"'Deed, my lady," said Agnes, her face also like a setting sun, "ye +may believe onything he tells ye, jist as gien it war gospel. He +disna ken hoo to mak a lee." + +"I know that as well as you," replied Lady Joan. + +"Na, ye canna du that,'cause ye haena kent him sae lang." + +"Will you tell me why you would not marry him?" + +"For ae thing,'cause he likit you better nor me, only he thoucht ye +was merried, an' he didna like lattin' me gang frae the hoose." + +"Thank you, Agnes," said Joan, with a smile nothing less than +heavenly. "He was so obstinate!" + +And with that she slipped from the saddle, threw her arms round +Aggie's neck, and kissed her. + +Aggie returned her embrace with simple truth, then drawing gently +away, said, putting her hand before her eyes as if she found the +sun too strong, "It's verra weel for you, my lady; but it's some +sair upo' me; for I tellt him he sudna merry his mither, an' ye're +full as auld as I am." + +Joan gave a sigh. + +"I am a year older, I believe," she answered, "but I cannot help +it. Nor would I if I could, for three years ago I was still less +worthy of him than I am now; and after all it is but a trifle." + +"Na, my leddy, it's no a trifle, only some fowk carry their years +better nor ithers." + +Here Cosmo set Joan up again, and a full explanation followed +between them, neither thinking of suppression because of Aggie's +presence. She would indeed have fallen behind again, but Joan would +not let her, so she walked side by side with them, and amongst the +rest of the story heard Cosmo tell how he had yielded Joan because +poor Jermyn loved her. Agnes both laughed and cried as she +listened, and when Cosmo ceased, threw her arms once more around +him, saying, "Cosmo, ye're worth it a'!" then releasing him, turned +to Joan and said, + +"My lady, I dinna grudge him to ye a bit. Noo 'at he's yours, an' +a' 's come roon' as it sud, I'll be mysel' again--an' that ye'll +see! But ye'll mak allooance, my lady; for ye hae a true hert, an' +maun ken 'at whan a wuman sees a man beirin' a'thing as gien it was +naething,'maist like a God, no kennin' he's duin' onything by +or'nar,' she can no more help loein' him nor the mither 'at bore +her, or the God 'at made her. An' mair, my lady, I mean to loe him +yet; but, as them 'at God has j'ined man nor wuman maunna sun'er, I +winna pairt ye even in my min'; whan I think o' the tane, it'll be +to think o' the tither, an' the love 'at gangs to him 'ill aye rin +ower upo' you--forby what I beir ye on yer ain accoont. Noo ye'll +gang on thegither again, an' I'll come ahin'." + +It was now to Aggie as if they were all dead and in the blessed +world together, only she had brought with her an ache which it +would need time to tune. All pain is discord. + +"Ye see, my lady," she said, as she turned aside and sat down on +the bordering turf, "I hae been a mither til 'im!" + +Who will care to hear further explanation!--how Joan went to visit +distant relatives who had all at once begun to take notice of her; +how she had come with them, more gladly than they knew, on a visit +to Cairntod; and how such a longing seized her there that, careless +of consequences, she donned a peasant's dress and set out for +Castle Warlock; how she had lost her way, and was growing very +uneasy when suddenly she saw Cosmo before her! + +"But what am I to do now, Cosmo?" she said. "What account of myself +can I give my people?" + +"You can tell them you met an old lover, and finding him now a rich +man, like a prudent woman, consented at once to marry him." + +"I must not tell a story." + +"Pray who asks you to tell a story?" + +"You do, telling me to say I have a rich lover." + +"I do not. I am rich." + +"Not in money?" + +"Yes, in money." + +"Why didn't you tell me before?" + +"I forgot. How could I think of riches with you filling up all the +thinking-place!" + +"But what am I to do to-night?" + +"To-night?--oh!--I hadn't thought of that!--We'll ask Aggie." + +So Aggie was once more called, and consulted. She thought for a +minute, then said,-- + +"Cosmo, as sune's ye're hame, ye'll sen' yer manstrauchtawa'upo'the +horse to lat my lady's fowk ken. She better write them a bit +letter, an' tell them she's fa'en in wi' an auld acquaintance, a +lass ca'd Agnes Gracie, a dacent yoong wuman, an' haein' lost her +ro'd an' bein' unco tired, she's gaein' hame wi' her to sleep; an' +the laird o' Glenwarlock was sae kin' 's to sen' his man upo' his +horse to cairry the letter. That w'y there'll be nae lees tellt, +an' no ower muckle o' the trowth." + +Cosmo began to criticise, but Joan insisted it should be as Aggie +said. + +When they arrived at the castle, Grizzie was not a little +scandalized to see her young master with a country lass on his +horse, and making so much of her. But when she came to understand +who she was, and that she had dressed up to get the easier to +Castle Warlock she was filled with approbation even to delight. + +"Eh, but ye're a lass to mak a man prood! I cudna hae dune better +mysef' gien I had been a gran' lady wi' a' the wits o' a puir wife! +Sit ye doon, my lady, an' be richt walcome! Eh, but ye're bonny, as +ever was ony! an' eh, but ye're steady as never was leddy! May the +Lord bless ye, an' the laird kiss ye!" + +This outbreak of benediction rather confused Cosmo, but Joan +laughed merrily, being happy as a child. Aggie turned her face to +Grizzie in dread of more; but the true improviser seldom, I fancy, +utters more than six lines. They had supper, and then a cart came +rumbling to the door, half full of straw, into which Joan got with +Aggie. A few things the latter had borrowed of Grizzie to help make +the former comfortable, were handed in and they set out for Muir o' +Warlock. In the morning Lady Joan declared she had never slept +better than in old Grannie's box-bed. + +They were married almost immediately, and nobody's leave asked. +Cosmo wrote to acquaint Lord Mergwain with the event, and had in +return, from his lordship's secretary, an acknowledgment of the +receipt of his letter. + +Of what they had to tell each other, of the way they lived, of how +blessed they were even when not altogether happy--of these matters +I say nothing, leaving them to the imagination of him who has any, +while for him who has none I grudge the labour, thinking too he +would very likely rather hear how much Cosmo got for his diamonds, +and whether, if Lord Mergwain should not marry, Cairncarque will +come to Lady Joan. But such things even he is capable of employing +his fancy upon, and it would be a pity to prevent him from doing +what he can. + +I will close my book with a little poem that Cosmo wrote--not that +night, but soon after. The poet may, in the height of joy, give out +an extempore flash or two, but he writes no poem then. The joy must +have begun to be garnered, before the soul can sing about it. How +we shall sing when we absolutely believe that OUR LIFE IS HID WITH +CHRIST IN GOD! + +Here is my spiritual colophon. + + + All things are shadows of thee, Lord; + The sun himself is but a shade; + My soul is but the shadow of thy word, + A candle sun-bedayed! + + Diamonds are shadows of the sun; + They drink his rays and show a spark: + My soul some gleams of thy great shine hath won, + And round me slays the dark. + + All knowledge is but broken shades-- + In gulfs of dark a wandering horde: + Together rush the parted glory-grades-- + And lo, thy garment, Lord! + + My soul, the shadow, still is light, + Because the shadow falls from thee; + I turn, dull candle, to the centre bright, + And home flit shadowy. + + Shine, shine; make me thy shadow still-- + The brighter still the more thy shade; + My motion be thy lovely moveless will I + My darkness, light delayed! + +(THE END.) + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Warlock o' Glenwarlock, by George MacDonald + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WARLOCK O' GLENWARLOCK *** + +***** This file should be named 6364.txt or 6364.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/6364/ + +Produced by Robert Prince, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Aldarondo, Charles Franks + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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