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THE LIBRARY OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF
NORTH CAROLINA
ENDOWED BY THE
DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC
SOCIETIES
PR4124
.W46
1893
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL
00038938114
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NORTH CAROLINA
LIBRARY
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WILLIAM A. WHITAKER
FOUNDATION
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2011 with funding from
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renewed by bringing it to the library.
DATE „pT,
DUE **^^
DATE
DUE ^^^-
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1
JUL 0 3
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Form No. 513
WHITE HEATHEK.
"^^ .uo U.-
WHITE HEATHER
A NOVEL
BY
WILLIAM BLACK
NEW AND REVISED EDITION
LONDON
SAMPSON LOW, MAESTON & COMPANY
LIMITED
1893.
[Ail rights reserved]
LONDON :
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, Limited,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
CONTENTS
OltAP.
PAOIE
I. — A Journey Northward ..... 1
II. — Meenie ....
14
HI. — On the Loch
•
22
IV. — A Letter ....
31
v. — Beginnings ....
40
VI. — A Programme
5-2
VII.— An Eyrie ....
60
VIII.— The New Year's Feast
70
IX. — Enticements
81
X. — High Festival
92
XL— A Revelation
101
XII. — "When Shadows Fall"
110
XIII. — A New Arrival .
119
XIV. — "About Illinois"
131
XV.— Wild Times
142
XVI.— Dreams and Visions .
154
XVII.— A Further Discovery
164
XVIII. — Confessions
172
XIX. — Hesitations
182
XX. — " Among the UNTnoDDEN Ways "
193
XXI. — A Lesson in Fi.y-Fishing .
202
XXII. POETA . . . NON FIT .
214
XXIII. — A Last Day on the Loch .
225
XXIV.— The Parting
284
XXV. — Southwards
244
XXVI.— Gray Days ....
. 255
XXVII.-Kate
262
XXVIIL— A Social Evening
. 273
vi
CONTENT&
CHAr.
PAOB
XXIX.
—Inducements .... . . 283
XXX.
—Entanglements
,
. 294
XXXI.
— Campsie Glen .
. 303
XXXII.-
—The Downward Wat
. 312
XXXIII.-
—A Message
. 321
XXXIV.-
—In Glasgow Town .
. 331
XXXV.-
—A Resolve
. 339
XXXVI.-
—A Bolder Step
. 348
XXXVIL-
—A Meeting
. 357
XXXVIII.-
—Confession
. 366
XXXIX.-
—At the Pear-tree Well
. 375
XL.-
—The Coming of Troubles
. 384
XLL-
-In Other Climes
. 395
XLII.-
—A Challenge .
. 408
XLIIL-
-A. Wedding
. 416
XLIV.-
-In Darkened Wats .
. 427
XLV.-
—In Absence
. 439
XLVI.-
-Wanderings in the West
. 449
XLVII.-
—A Pledge Eedeemed
. 459
XLVIIL-
-The Factor of Balnavka
IN
. 468
WHITE HEATHEE.
CHAPTER I.
A JOUENEY NOETH^yARD.
On a certain cold evening in January, and just as the
Scotch night-mail was about to start for the north, a stranger
drove up to Euston and alighted, and was glad enough to
escape from the chill draughts of the echoing station into
the glow and warmth and comfort of a sleeping-car. He
was a man of means apparently ; for one half of this
carriage, containing four berths, and forming a room apart,
as it were, had been reserved for himseK alone ; while his
travelling impedimenta — fur-lined coats and hoods and rugs
and what not — were of an elaborate and sumptuous descrip-
tion. On the other hand, there was nothing of ostentation
about either his dress or appearance or demeanour. He
was a tall, thin, quiet-looking man, with an aquiline nose,
sallow complexion, and keen but not unkindly gray eyes.
His short-cropped hair was grizzled, and there were deep
lines in the worn and ascetic face ; but this may have been
the result of an exhausting climate rather than of any mental
care, for there was certainly no touch of melancholy in his
expression. His costume was somewhat prim and precise ;
there was a kind of schoolmasterish look about the stiff
white collar and small black tie ; his gloves were new and
neat. For the rest, he seemed used to travelling ; he began
to make himself at home at once, and scarcely looked up
from this setting of things to rights when the conductor
made his appearance.
B
2 WHITE HE A THER
" Mr. Hodson, sir ? " the latter said, with an inquiring
glance.
" That's about what they call me," he answered slowly,
as he opened a capacious dressing-bag covered with
crocodile-hide.
" Do you expect any friends to join you farther along,
sir ? "
" Not that I know of," was the answer — and a pair of
dark-blue velvet slippers, with initials worked in gold, were
fished out and thrown upon the seat beside him.
But when the conductor had got one of the lower
sleeping-berths made ready and the traveller had completed
his leisurely arrangements for passing the night in comfort,
a somewhat one-sided conversation ensued. This gaunt,
slow-speaking, reserved man proved to be quite talkative —
in a curious, measured, dry, and staccato fashion ; and if
his conversation consisted chiefly of questions, these showed
that he had a very honest and simple concern in the welfare
of this other human being whom chance had thrown in his
way, and that he could express his friendly interest without
any touch of patronage or condescension. He asked first
about the railway-line ; how the company's servants were
paid ; what were their hours on duty ; whether they had
formed any associations for relief in case of sickness ; what
this particular man got for his work ; whether he could
look forward to any bettering of his lot, and so forth. And
then, fixing his eyes more scrutinisingly on his companion,
he began to ask about his family affairs — where he lived ;
what children he had ; how often he saw them ; and the
like ; and these questions were so obviously prompted by
no idle curiosity, but by an honest sympathy, and by the
apparent desire of one human being to get to imderstand
fully and clearly the position and surroundings and pros-
pects of this other fellow-creature, that it was impossible for
any one to take offence.
" And how old is your little girl ? "
" Eight, sir : she will be nine in May next."
" What do you call her ? "
" Caroline, sir."
" Why, you don't say ! " he exclaimed, with his eyes —
which were usually calm and observant — lighting up with
A JOURNEY NORTHWARD 3
some surprise. " That is the name of my girl too — though
I can't call her little any more. Well now," he added, as
he took out his purse and selected a sovereign from the
mass of coins, " I think this is about what you ought to do.
When you get back to Camden Town, you start an account
in the Post Office Savings Bank, in your little girl's name,
and you put in this sovereign as a first deposit. Then,
whenever you have an odd sixpence or shilling to give her
— a birthday present, or that — you keep adding on and on ;
and there will be a nice little sum for her in after years.
And if ever she asks, you can tell her it was the father of
an American Caroline who made her this little present ;
and if she grows up to be as good a girl as the American
Carry, she'll do very well, I think."
The conductor scarcely knew how to express his thanks,
but the American cut him short, saying coolly — •
" I don't give the sovereign to you at all. It is in trust
for your daughter. And you don't look to me the kind of
man who would go and drink it."
He took out an evening newspaper, and, at the hint,
the conductor went away to get ready the berths in the
other end of the car. When he came back again to see if
the gentleman wanted anything further for the night, they
had thundered along the line until they were nearing
Rugby.
" Why, yes," Mr. Hodsou said, in answer to the questiou,
" you might get me a bottle of soda-water when we get to
the station."
" I have soda-water in the car, sir."
" Bring me a bottle, then, please."
" And shall I get anything else for you, sir, at Rugby ? "
"No, I thank you."
When the man returned with the soda-water, the traveller
had taken from his dressing-bag a Ijottle labelled " Bromide
of Potassium," and he was just about to mix his customary
sleeping-draught when it occurred to him that perhaps this
conductor could tell him something of the new and far
country into which he was about to adventure for the first
time. And in making these inquiries he showed that he
was just as frank-spoken about his own plans and circum-
stances as he expected other people to be about theirs.
^ WHITE HEATHER
When the conductor confessed that he knew next to nothing
about the north of Scotland, never having been farther than
Perth, and even then his knowledge of the country being
confined to the railway-line and the stations, Mr. Hodson
went on to say — in that methodical way of his, with little
rising inflexions here and there —
" Well, it's bound to be different from London, anyway.
It can't be like London ; and that's the main thing for me.
Why, that London fog, never moving, same in the morning,
same at night, it's just too dismal for anything ; the inside
of a jail is a fool to it. 'Pears to me that a London after-
noon is just about as melancholy as they make it ; if there's
anything more melancholy than that anywhere, I don't know
it. Well, now, it can't be like that at Cape Wrath."
" I should think not, sir."
" I daresay if I lived in the town, and had my club, and
knew people, it might be different ; and my daughter seems
to get through the time well enough ; but young folks are
easily amused. Say, now, about this salmon-fishing in the
north : you don't know when it begins ? "
" No, sir."
" You haven't seen anybody going yet with a bundle of
rods ? "
" Xo, su", not this year yet."
" Hope they haven't been playing it on me — I was told
I could begin on the eleventh. But it don't signify much
so long's I get out of that infernal cut-throat atmosphere
of London."
At this point the train began to slow into Rugby
station, and the conductor left to attend to his duties ; and
by the time they were moving out again and on their way
to the far north, Mr. Hodson had mixed and drunk his
nightly potion, and, partially undressed, was wrapped up in
the thick and warm coverings of the sleeping-berth, where,
whether owing to the bromide of potassium, or the jog-trot
rattle of the wheels, he was soon plunged in a profound
slumber.
Well, if part of his design in thus venturing upon a
journey to the north in mid-winter was to get away from
the monotonous mists of London, the next morning showed
him that so far he had been abundantly successful. The
A JOURNEY NORTHWARD 5
day breaking caused him to open his eyes ; and instinctively
he turned to the window. There before him was a strange,
and unusual, and welcome sight. No more dismal grays,
and the gathering down of a hopeless dusk ; but the clear,
glad light of the morning — a band of flashing gold all
along the eastern horizon, behind the jet-black stems and
branches of the leafless trees ; and over that the heavens
were all of a pale and luminous lilac, with clouds hanging
here and there — clouds that were dark and almost thunder-
ous in their purple look, but that really meant nothing but
beauty, as they lay there soft and motionless in the glowing
and mystical dawn. Quickly he got up. The windows
were thrown open. And this air that rushed in — so fresh,
so sweet, so full of all kinds of mellow and fragrant mess-
ages from the hills, and the pine-woods, and the wide-lying
straths — did it not bring a strange kind of joy and surprise
with it ?
" A beautiful morning, sir ; we are getting near to Perth
now," the conductor said, when he made his appearance.
" Are we in time ? "
" Yes, in very good time."
" And no hurry about breakfast ? "
" No, sir ; you don't start again till nine o'clock."
Even this big hollow station, with its wide stone plat-
forms and resounding arch : was it the white light that
filled it, or the fresh air that blew through ifc, that made it
quite a cheerful place ? He was charmed with the accent
of the timid handmaiden who brought him his breakfast in
the refreshment room, and who waited on him in such a
friendly, half-anxious, shy fashion ; and he wondered whether
he would dare to offer so pretty and well-mannered a young
lady anything over the customary charge in token of his
gratitude to her for her gentle ways. Perth itself : well,
there had been rain in the night, and the streets near the
station were full of mud ; but then the cart ruts in the mud
were gleaming lines of gold ; and the beautiful sky hung
over the slowly rising smoke of the houses ; and the air
was everywhere so sweet and welcome. He had got
into a new world altogether ; the weight of the London
atmosphere was lifted from him ; he whistled " Auld Lang
Syne " — which was the only Scotch air he knew — and the
6 WHITE HEATHER
lugubrious tune sounded quite pleasant on so joyous a
morning.
Moreover, these were but first and commonplace experi-
ences. For by and by, when he had again taken his seat
to prosecute his journey — and he found himself the sole
occupant of the carriage — the sunrise had widened into the
full splendour of a sunlit day ; and as the train sped away
to the north, he, sitting at the window there, and having
nothing to do but examine the new country he was entering,
was wholly amazed at the intensity and brilliancy of the
colouring around, and at the extraordinary vividness of the
light. The wide stretches of the Tay shone Uke bur-
nished silver ; there were yellow straths and fields ; and
beech hedges of a rich russet-red ; and fir-woods of a deep
fresh green ; and still farther away low-lying hills of a soft
and ruddy purple, touched sharp here and there with
patches of snow ; and over all these a blue sky as of
summer. The moist, -^a arm air that blew in at the window
seemed laden with pine odours ; the country women at the
small stations had a fresh pink colour in their cheeks ;
everywhere a new and glad and wholesome life seemed to
be abroad, and cheerfulness, and rich hues, and sunlight.
" This Ls good enough," he said to himself. " This is
something like what I shipped for."
And so they sped on : through the soft, wide-stretching
woods of Murthly, and Birnam, and Dunkeld ; through the
shadow and sudden gleams of Killiecrankie Pass ; on by
Blair Athol and the banks of the Garry ; until, with slow
and labouring breath, the train began to force its way up
the heights of the Grampians, in the lone neighbourhood
of the Drumouchter Forest. The air was keener here ; the
patches of snow were nearer at hand ; indeed, in some
places the line had evidently been cleared, and large snow
banks heaped up on each side. But by and by the motion
of the train seemed to become easier ; and soon it was
apparent that the descent had begun ; presently they were
rattling away down into the wide and shining valley of
Strathspey ; and far over there on the west and north, and
keeping guard over the plain, as it were, rose the giant
masses of the Cairngorm Hills, the snow sparkling here
and there on their shoulders and peaks.
A JOURNEY NORTHWARD 7
It was not until half-past four in the afternoon that the
long railway journey came to an end ; and during that time
he had come upon many a scene of historical interest and
pictorial beauty. He had been within a short distance
of the mournful " haughs of Cromdale ; " he had crossed
Culloden Moor. Xearing Forres, he had come within
sight of the Northern Sea ; and thereafter had skirted the
blue ruffled waters of the Moray, and Cromarty, and Dor-
noch Firths. But even when he had got to Lairg, a little
hamlet at the foot of Loch Shin, his travelling for the day
was not nearly over ; there still remained a drive of four-
and-twenty miles ; and although it was now dusk and the
weather threatened a change, he preferred to push on that
night. Travelling did not seem to tire him much ; no
doubt he was familiar with immeasurably greater distances
in his own country. Moreover, he had learned that there
was nothing particular to look at in the stretch of wild
moorland that lay between him and his destination ; and
then again, if it was dark now, there would be moonlight
later on. So he ate his dinner leisurely and in content,
until a waggonette with two stout horses was brought
round ; then he got in ; and presently they were away from
the little hamlet and out in a strange land of darkness
and silence, scarcely anything visible around them, the only
sound the jog-trot clatter of the horses' feet.
It was a desperately lonely drive. The road appeared
to go over interminable miles of flat or scarcely undulating
moorland ; and even when the moonlight began to make
the darkness faintly visible, that only increased the sense
of solitude, for there was not even a single tree to break the
monotony of the sombre horizon line. It had begun to rain
also : not actual rain, but a kind of thin drizzle, that seemed
to mix itself up with the ineffectual moonlight, and throw
a wan haze over these far-reaching and desolate wastes.
Tramp, tramp went the horses' feet through this ghostly
world ; the wet mist grew thicker and thicker and clung
around the traveller's hair ; it was a chilling mist, moreover,
and seemed to search for weak places about the throat.
The only sharply defined objects that the eye could rest on
were the heads and npthrown ears of the horses, that shone
in the light sent forward by the lamps : all else was a form-
8 WHITE HEATHER
less wilderness of gloom, shadows following shadows, and
ever the desolate landscape stretching on and on, and
losing itseK in the night.
The American stood up in the waggonette, perhaps to
shake off for a second the clammy sensation of the wet.
" Say, young man," he observed — but in an absent kind
of way, for he Avas regarding, as far as that was possible, the
dusky undulations of the mournful landscape — " don't you
think now, that for a good wholesome dose of God-forsaken-
ness, this'll about take the cake ? "
" Ah beg your paurdon, sir," said the driver, who was
apparently a Lowlander.
The stranger, however, did not seem inclined to continue
the conversation ; he sank into his seat again ; gathered
his rugs round him ; and contented himself as hereto-
fore by idly watching the lamplight touching here and
there on the harness and lighting up the horses' heads and
ears.
Mile after mile, hour after hour, went by in this mono-
tonous fashion ; and to the stranger it seemed as if he were
piercing farther and farther into some unknown land
unpeopled by any human creatures. Not a ray of Hght
from any hut or farmhouse was visible anywhere. But as
the time went on, there was at least some little improvement
in the weather. Either the moonliglit was growing stronger,
or the thin drizzle clearing off ; at all events he could now
make out ahead of him — and beyond the flat moorland —
the dusky masses of some mountains, with one great peak
overtopping them all. He asked the name.
" That is Ben Clebrig, sir."
And then through the mist and the moonlight a dull
sheet of silver began to disclose itself dimly.
" Is that a lake down there ? "
" Loch Naver, sir."
" Then we are not far from Inver-Mudal ? "
" No far noo ; just a mile or two, sir," was the consoling
answer.
And indeed when he got to the end of his journey, and
reached the little hostelry set far amid these moorland and
mountain wilds, his welcome there made ample amends.
He was ushered into a plain, substantially furnished, and
A JO URNE V NOR THIVA RD g
spacious sitting-room, brightly lit up by the lamp that stood
on the white cloth of the table, and also by the blazing glare
from the peats in the mighty fireplace ; and when his eyes
had got accustomed to this bewilderment of warmth and
light, he found, awaiting his orders, and standing shyly at
the door, a pretty, tall, fair-haired girl, who, with the
softest accent in the world, asked him what she should bring
him for supper. And when he said he did not care to have
anything, she seemed quite surprised and even concerned.
It was a long, long drive, she said, in her shy and pretty
way ; and would not the gentleman have some hare-soup
— that they had kept hot for him ? and so forth. But her
coaxing was of no avail.
" By the way, what is your name, my girl ? " he said.
" Nelly, sir."
"Well, then, Nelly, do you happen to know whether
Lord Ailine's keeper is anywhere in the neighbourhood ? "
" He is in the unn, sir, waiting for you."
" Oh, indeed. Well, tell him I should like to see him.
And say, what is his name ? "
" Ronald, sir."
" Eonald ? "
" That is his first name," she explained.
" His ' first name ' ? I thought that was one of our
Americanisms."
She did not seem to understand this.
" Ronald Strang is his name, sir ; but we jist call him
Ronald."
" Very well, Nelly ; you go and tell him I want to see
him."
" Ferry well, sir," she said ; and away she went.
But little indeed did this indefatigable student of nature
and human nature — who had been but half interested by his
observations and experiences through that long day's trav el
— know what was yet in store for him. The door opened ;
a slim-built and yet muscular young man of eight-and-twenty
or so appeared there, clad in a smart deer-stalking costume
of brownish green ; he held his cap in his hand ; and round
his shoulder was the strap from which hung behind the brown
leather case of his telescope. This Mr. Hodson saw at a
glance ; and also something more. He prided himself on
lo WHITE HE A THER
his judgment of character. And when his quick look had
taken in the keen, sun-tanned face of this young fellow, the
square, intellectual forehead, the firm eyebrows, the finely
cut and inteUigent mouth, and a certain proud set of the
head, he said to himself, " This is a man : there's something
here worth knowing."
" Good evening, sir," the keeper said, to break the
momentary silence.
" Good evening," said Mr. Hodson (who had been rather
startled out of his manners). " Come and sit down by the
fire ; and let's have a talk now about the shooting and the
salmon-fishing. I have brought the letters from the Duke's
agent with me."
" Yes, sir," said Strang ; and he moved a bit farther into
the room ; but remained standing, cap in hand.
" Pull in a chair," said Mr. Hodson, who was searching
for the letters.
" Thank ye, sir ; thank ye," said the keeper ; but he
remained standing nevertheless.
Mr. Hodson returned to the table.
"Sit down, man, sit down," said he, and he himself
pulled in a chair. " I don't know what your customs are
over here, but anyhow I'm an American citizen ; I'm not
a lord."
Somewhat reluctantly the keeper obeyed this injunction,
and for a minute or two seemed to be rather uncomfort-
able ; but when he began to answer the questions concisely
put to him with regard to the business before them, his
shyness wholly wore away, for he was the master of this
subject, not the stranger who was seeking for information.
Into the details of these matters it is needless to enter
here ; and, indeed, so struck was the American with the
talk and bearing of this new acquaintance that the con-
versation went far afield. And the farther afield it went,
the more and more was he impressed with the extraordinary
information and intelligence of the man, the independence
of his views, the shrewdness and sometimes sarcasm of his
judgments. Always he was very respectful ; but in his
eyes — which seemed singularly dark and lustrous here
indoors, but which, out of doors and when he was after
the wary stag, or the still more wary hinds, on the far
A JOURNEY NORTHWARD ii
slopes of Clebrig, contracted and became of a keen brownish
gray — there was a kind of veiled fire of humour which, as the
stranger guessed, might in other circumstances blaze forth
wildly enough. Mr. Hodson, of Chicago, was entirely
puzzled. A gamekeeper ? He had thought (from his
reading of English books) that a gamekeeper was a vel-
veteen-coated person whose ideas ranged from the ale-house
to the pheasant coverts, and thence and quickly back again.
But this man seemed to have a wide and competent know-
ledge of public affairs ; and, when it came to a matter of
argument (they had a keen little squabble about the pro-
tection tariffs of America) he could reason hard, and was
not over-compliant.
" God bless me," Mr. Hodson was driven to exclaim at
last, " what is a man of your ability doing in a place like
this ? Why don't you go away to one of the big cities — ■
or over to America — where a young fellow with his wits
about him can push himself forward ? "
" I woidd rather be ' where the dun deer lie,' " said he,
with a kind of bashful laugh.
" You read Kingsley ? " the other said, still more astonished.
" My brother lends me his books from time to time,"
Ronald said modestly. " He's a Free Church minister in
Glasgow."
" A Free Church minister ? He went through college,
then ? "
" Yes, sir ; he took his degree at Aberdeen."
" But — but — " said the newcomer, who had come upon
a state of affairs he could not understand at all — " Avho
w^as your father, then ? He sent your brother to college,
I presume ? "
" Oh no, sir. My father is a small farmer down the
Lammermuir way ; and he just gave my brother Andrew his
wages like the rest, and Andrew saved up for the classes."
" You are not a Highlander, then ? "
" But half-and-half, like my name, sir," he said (and all
the shyness was gone now : he spoke to this stranger
frankly and simply as he w'ould have spoken to a shepherd
on the hillside). " My mother was Highland. She was a
Macdonald ; and so she would have me called Eonald j
it's a common name wi' them.'
12 WHITE HEATHER
Mr. Hodson stared at him for a second or two in
silence.
" Well," said he, slowly, " I don't know. Different men
have different ways of looking at things. I think if I were
of your age, and had yonr intelligence, I would try for
something better than being a gamekeeper."
" I am very well content, sir," said the other placidly ;
" and I couldna be more than that anywhere else. It's a
healthy life ; and a healthy life is the best of anything — at
least that is my way of thinking. I wadna like to try
the toun ; I doubt it wouldn't agree wi' me." And then
he rose to his feet. " I beg your pardon, sir ; I've been
keeping ye late."
Well, Mr. Hodson was nothing loth- to let him go ; for
although he had arrived at the conviction that here was a
valuable human life, of exceptional quality and distinction,
being absolutely thrown away and wasted, still he had not
formed the arguments by which he might try to save it
for the general good, and for the particular good of the
young man himself. He wanted time to think over this
matter — and in cold blood ; for there is no doubt that he
had been surprised and fascinated by the intellectual bold-
ness and incisiveness 'of the younger man's opinions and
by the chance sarcasms that had escaped him.
" I could get him a good opening in Chicago soon
enough," he was thinking to himself, when the keeper had
left, " but upon my soul I don't know the man who is fit
to become that man's m.aster. Why, I'd start a newspaper
for him myself, and make him editor — and if he can't
write, he has. got mother-wit enough to guide them who
can — but he and I would be quarrelling in a week. That
fellow is not to be driven by anybody."
He now rang the bell for a candle ; and the slim and
yellow-haired Nelly showed him upstairs to his room, which
he found to be comfortably warm, for there was a blazing
peat fire in the grate, scenting all the air with its delicious
odour. He bade her good-night, and turned to open his
dressing-bag ; but at the same moment he heard voices
without, and being of an inquiring turn of mind, he went
to the window. The first thing he saw was that outside a
beautiful clear moon was now shining ; the leafless elm-
A JO URNE V NOR THWA RD 1 3
trees and the heavy-foliaged pines throwing sharp black
shadows across the white road. And this laughing and
jesting at the door of the inn ? — surely he heard Konald's
voice there — the gayest of any — among the jibes that
seemed to form their farewells for the night ? Then there
was the shutting of a door ; and in the silence that
ensued he saw the solitary, straight-limbed, clean-made
figure of a man stride up the white road, a little dog
trotting behind him.
" Come along, Harry, my lad," the man said to his
small companion — and that, sure enough, was the keeper's
voice.
And then, in the stillness of the moonlight night, this
watcher and listener was startled to hear a clear and
powerful tenor voice suddenly begin to sing— in a careless
fashion, it is true, as if it were but to cheer the homeward
going—
" Come all ye jolly shepherds.
That whistle through the glen,
Vll tell ye of a secret
That courtiers dinna hen.
JVJiat is the greatest bliss
That the tongue 0' man can namel—
'Tis to woo a honnie lassie
When the kye come hame."
" Great heavens ! " said Mr. Hodson to himself, " such a
voice — and all Europe waiting for a new tenor ! But at
seven or eight and twenty I suppose he is beyond training."
The refrain became more and more distant :
" When the kye come hame,
Wlien the hye come hame,
'Twixt the gloamin' and the mirk,
When the hye come hame."
Both the keeper and the little trotting terrier had dis-
appeared now, having turned a corner of the road where
there was a clump of trees. The traveller who had
wandered into these remote wilds sate down for a minute
or two to sum up his investigations of the evening, and
they were these :
" Accounts of the deer seem shaky ; but there may have
been bad shooting this last year, as he says. The salmon-
14 WHITE HEATHER
fishing sounds more likely ; and then Carry could come
with us in the boat — which would make it less dull for
her. Anyhow, I have discovered the most remarkable
man I have met with as yet in the old country ; and to
think of his being thrown away like that ! "
CHAPTER II.
MEENIE.
We may now follow Eonald Strang as he walks along to
his cottage, which, with its kennels and its shed for hanging
up the slain deer, stands on a little plateau by the roadside,
a short distance from the inn. The moonlight night is
white and beautiful, but far from silent ; for the golden
plover are whistling and calling down by the lochside, and
the snipe are sending their curious harsh note across the
moorland wastes. Moreover, he himself seems to be in a
gay mood (perhaps glad to be over the embarrassment of
a first meeting with the stranger), and he is conversing
amicably with his little terrier. The subject is rats.
Whether the wise little Harry knows all that is said need
not be determined : but he looks up from time to time
and wags his stump of a tail as he trots placidly along.
And so they get up to the cottage and enter, for the outer
door is on the latch, thieves being unheard of in this
remote neighbourhood ; though here Harry hesitates, for
he is uncertain whether he is to be invited into the
parlour or not. But the next moment all consideration of
this fom'-footed friend is driven out of his master's head.
Ronald had expected to find the parlour empty, and his
little sister, at present his sole housekeeper, retired to rest.
But the moment he opens the door, he finds that not only
is she there, sitting by the table near to the solitary lamp,
but that she has a companion with her. And well he
knows who that must be.
" Dear me, Miss Douglas," he exclaimed, " have I kept
you so late ! "
The young lady, who now rose, with something of a
flush over her features — for she had been startled by his
sudden entrance — was certainly an extraordinarily pretty
MEENIE 15
creature : not so much handsome, or distinguished, or
striking, as altogether pretty and winning and gentle-looking.
She was obviously of a pure Highland type : the figure
slender and graceful, the head small and beautifully formed ;
the forehead rather square for a woman, but getting its
proper curve from the soft and pretty hair ; the features
refined and intelligent ; the mouth sensitive ; the expression
a curious sort of seeking to please, as it were, and ready to
form itself into an abundant gratitude for the smallest act
of kindness. Of course, much of this look was owing to her
eyes, which were the true Highland eyes ; of a blue gray
these were, with somewhat dark lashes ; wide apart, and shy,
and apprehensive, they reminded one of the startled eyes of
some wild animal ; but they were entirely human in their
quick sympathy, in their gentleness, in their appeal to all
the world, as it were, for a favouring word. As for her
voice — well, if she used but few of the ordinary Highland
phrases, she had undoubtedly a considerable trace of High-
land accent ; for, although her father was an Edinburgh man,
her mother (as the elderly lady very soon let her neighbours
know) was one of the Stuarts of Glengask and Orosay ;
and then again Meenie had lived nearly all her life in the
Highlands, her father never having risen above the position
of a parish doctor, and welcoming even such local re-
movals as served to improve his position in however slight
a way.
" Maggie," said Miss Douglas (and the beautiful wide-
apart eyes were full of a shy apology), " was feeling a little
lonely, and I did not like to leave her."
" But if I had known," said he, " I would not have stayed
so late. The gentleman that is come about the shooting
is a curious man ; it's no the salmon and the grouse and
the deer he wants to know about only ; it's everything in
the country. Now, Maggie, lass, get ye to bed. And I
will see you down the road, Miss Douglas."
" Indeed there is no need for that," said Meenie, with
downcast eyes.
" Would ye have a bogle run away with ye ? " he said
good-naturedly.
And so she bade good-night to the little Maggie, and
took up some books and drawings she had brought to
1 6 WHITE HE A THER
beguile tlie time withal ; and then she went out into the
clear night, followed by the young gamekeeper.
And what a night it was — or rather, might have been —
for two lovers I The wide waters of the loch lay still and
smooth, with a broad pathway of silver stretching away into
the dusk of the eastern hills ; not a breath of wind stirred
bush or tree ; and if Ben Clebrig in the south was mostly
a bulk of shadow, far away before them in the northern
skies rose the great shoulders of Ben Loyal, pallid in the
moonlight, the patches of snow showing white up near the
stars. They had left behind them the little hamlet — which
merely consisted of a few cottages and the inn ; they were
alone in this pale silent world. And down there, beneath
the little bridge, ran the placid Mudal Water : and if they
had a Bible with them ? — and would stand each on one
side of the stream ? — and clasp hands across ? It was a
night for lovers' vows.
" Maggie is getting on well with her lessons," the pretty
young lady said, in that gentle voice of hers. " She is very
diligent."
" I'm sure I'm much obliged to ye. Miss Douglas," was
the respectful answer, " for the trouble ye take with her.
It's an awkward thing to be sae far from a school. I'm
thinking I'll have to send her to my brother in Glasgow,
and get her put to school there."
" Oh, indeed, indeed," said she, " that will be a change
now. And who will look after the cottage for you,
Ronald ? "
She addressed him thus quite naturally, and without
shyness ; for no one ever dreamed of calling him anything
else.
" Well, I suppose Mrs. MacGregor will give the place a
redd * up from time to time. But a keeper has but half
learned his business that canna shift for himself ; there's
some of the up-country lodges with ne'er a woman-l^ody
within a dozen miles o' them."
" It is your brother the minister that Maggie will be
going to ? " she said.
" Oh yes ; he is married, and has a family of his own ;
she will be comfortable there."
* " Kedd," a setting to rights.
MEENIE 17
" Well, it is strange," said she, " that you should have a
brother in Glasgow, and I a sister, and that your mother
should be Highland and mine too."
But this was putting himself and her on much too
common a footing ; and he was always on his guard against
that, however far her gentleness and good-nature might
lead her.
" When is your father coming back, Miss Douglas .? "
said he.
" Well, I really do not know," she said. " I do not think
he has ever had so wide a district to attend to, and we are
never sure of his being at home."
" It must be very lonely for a young lady brought up
like you," he ventured to say, "that ye should have no
companions. And for your mother, too ; I wonder she
can stand it."
" Oh no," she said, " for the people are so friendly
with us. And I do not know of any place that I like
better."
By this time they were come to the little wooden gate
of the garden, and he opened that for her. Before them
was the cottage, with its windows, despite the moonlight on
the panes, showing the neat red blinds within. She gave
him her hand for a second.
" Good-night, Ronald," said she pleasantly.
" Good-night, Miss Douglas," said he ; " Maggie must
not keep you up so late again."
And therewith he walked away back again along the
white road, and only now perceived that by some accident
his faithful companion Harry had been shut in when they
left. He also discovered, when he got home, that his sister
Maggie had been so intent puzzling over some arithmetical
mysteries which Meenie had been explaining to her, that
she had still further delayed her going to bed.
" What, what .? " said he, good-humouredly. " Not \\\
bed yet, lass ? "
The little red-headed, freckled-faced lassie obediently
gathered up her belongings, but at the door she lingered
for a moment.
" Ronald," said she, timidly, " why do ye call j\Ieenie
' Miss Douglas ? ' It's not friendly."
c
1 8 WHITE HEATHER
" When ye're a bit older, lass, ye'll understand," he said,
with a laugh.
Little Maggie was distressed in a vague way, for she had
formed a warm affection for Meenie Douglas, and it seemed
hard and strange that her own brother should show himself
so distant in manner.
" Do you think she's proud ? for she's not that," the
little girl made bold to say.
" Have ye never heard o' the Stuarts of Glengask ? " said
he ; and he added grimly, " My certes, if ye were two or
three years older, I'm thinking Mrs. Douglas would have
told ye ere now how Sir Alexander used to call on them in
Edinburgh every time he came north. Most folk have
heard that story. But however, when Meenie, as ye like
to call her, goes to live in Edinburgh or Glasgow, or some
o' the big towns, of course she'll be Miss Douglas to every
one, as she ought to be here, only that she's taken a fancy
to you, and, my lass, fairly spoils ye with her kindness.
Now, off with ye, and dinna fash your head about what I
or any one else calls her ; if she's content to be Meenie to
you, ye should be proud enough."
As soon as she was gone he stirred up the peats, lit his
pipe, and drew in a chair to the small table near the fire.
It was his first pipe that evening, and he wished to have it
in comfort. And then, to pass the time, he unlocked and
opened a drawer in the table, and began to rummage
through the papers collected there — all kinds of shreds and
fragments they were, scored over mostly in pencil, and
many of them bearing marks as if the writing had been
done outside in the rain.
The fact was, that in idle times, when there was no
trapping to be done, or shooting of hoodie-crows, or break-
ing-in of young dogs, he would while away many an hour
on the hillside or along the shores of the loch by stringing
verses together. They were done for amusement's sake.
Sometimes he jotted them down, sometimes he did not.
If occasionally, when he had to write a letter to a friend of
his at Tongue, or make some request of his brother in
Glasgow, he put these epistles into jingling rhyme, that was
about all the publication his poetical efforts ever achieved ;
and he was most particular to conceal from the " gentiy "
MEENIE 19
who came down to the shooting any knowledge that he
scribbled at all. He knew it would be against him. He
had no wish to figure as one of those local poets (and alas !
they have been and are too numerous in Scotland) who,
finding within them some small portion of the afflatus of a
Burns, or a Motherwell, or a Tannahill, are seduced away
from their lawful employment, gain a fleeting popularity in
their native village, perhaps attain to the dignity of a notice
in a Glasgow or Edinburgh newspaper, and subsequently and
almost inevitably die of drink, in the most abject misery of
disappointment. No ; if he had any ambition it was not
in that direction ; it was rather that he should be known
as the smartest deerstalker and the best trainer of dogs in
Sutherlandshire. He knew where his strength lay, and
where he found content. And then there was another
reason why he could not court newspaper applause with
these idle rhymes of his. They were nearly all about
Meenie Douglas. Meenie-olatry was written all across
those scribbled sheets. And of course that was a dark
secret known only to himself ; and indeed it amused him,
as he turned over the loose leaves, to think that all the
Stuarts of Glengask and Orosay (and that most severe and
terrible of them all, Mrs. Douglas) could not in the least
prevent his saying to Meenie just whatever he pleased — •
within the wooden confines of this drawer. And what had
he not said ? Sometimes it was but a bit of careless
singing —
'Roses njhite, roses red,
Bases in the lane,
Tell me, roses red and ivliife,
Where is Meenie gane?
0 is she on Loch Loyal's side?
Or tip by Mudal Water ?
In vain the xvild doves in the woods
Everywhere have sought her.
Hoses white, roses red,
Eoses in tlie lane,
Tell me, roses red and ivliite.
Where is Meenie gane ?
Well, now, supposing you arc far away up on Ben
Clebrig's slopes, a gun over your shoulder, and idly looking
c 2
20 WHITE HEATHER
out for a ^Yhite hare or a ptarmigan, if you take to humming
these careless rhymes to some such tune as " Cherry Ripe,"
who is to hinder ? The strongest of all the south winds
cannot carry the tidings to Glengask nor yet to Orosay's
shores. And so the whole country-side — every hill and
stream and wood and rock — came to be associated with
Meenie, and saturated with the praise and glory of her.
Why, he made the very mountains fight about her !
Hen Loyal s]pal;e to Ben Clehrig,
And they thundered their vote of war:
" Yo2i looh duivn on your sheep and your sheep/olds;
I see the ocean afar.
" You hole doiin on the huts and the hamlets.
And the trivial tasks of men;
I see the great ships sailing
Along the northern main."
Ben Clehrig laughed, and the laughter
Shook heaven and earth and sea :
" There is something in that small hamlet
That is fair enough for me —
" Ay, fairer than all your sailing sJiips
Struck ivith the morning flame :
A fresh young floicer from the hand of God —
Rose Meenie- is her name ! "
But at this moment, as he turned over this mass of
scraps and fragments, there was one, much more audacious
than the rest, that he was in search of, and when he found
it a whimsical fancy got into his head. If he were to make
out a fair copy of the roughly scrawled lines, and fold that
up, and address it to Meenie, just to see how it looked ?
He took out his blotting-pad, and selected the best sheet
of note-paper he could find ; and then he wrote (with a
touch of amusement, and perhaps of something else, too,
in his mind the while) thus —
0 loilt thou he my dear love ?
(Meenie and Meenie),
0 ivilt thou he my ain love ?
(My sweet Meenie).
Were yon loi' me upon the hill,
It's I loould gar the dogs he still.
We'd lie our lane and kiss our fill,
(My love Meenie).
MEENIE 21
Ahoon the hum a wild hush grows
(Jtleenie and Meenie),
And on the hush there hlooms a rose
(JMy sweet Meenie') ;
And wad ye tali the rose frae me,
And wear it cohere it fain would he.
It's to your arms that I would flee,
{Bose-sweet Meenie !)
He carefully folded the paper and addressed it outside
—so :
Miss Wilhelmina Stuart Douglas,
Care of James Douglas, Esq., M.D.,
Inver-Mudal,
Sutherlandshire.
And then he held it out at arm's length, and regarded it,
and laughed, in a contemptuous kind of way, at his own
folly.
" Well," he was thinking to himself, " if it were not for
Stuart of Glengask, I suppose the day might come when I
could send her a letter like that ; but as it is, if they were
to hear of any such madness, Glengask and all his kith and
kin would be for setting the heather on fire."
He tossed the letter back on the blotting-pad, and rose
and went and stood opposite the blazing peats. This
movement aroused the attention of the little terrier, who
immediately jumped up from his snooze and began to
whimper his expectation. Strang's heart smote him.
" God bless us ! " he said aloud. " When a lass gets
into a man's head, there's room for nothing else ; he'll
forget his best friends. Here, Harry, come along, and I'll
get ye your supper, my man."
He folded up the blotting-pad and locked it in the drawer,
blew out the candles, called Harry to follow him into the
kitchen, where the small terrier was duly provided for and
left on guard. Then he sought out his own small room.
He was whistling as he went ; and, if he dreamt of any-
thing that night, be sure it was not of the might and
majesty of Sir Alexander Stuart of Glengask and Orosay.
These verses to Meenie were bub playthings and fancies — -
for idle hours.
22 WHITE HEATHER
CHAPTER III.
ON THE LOCH.
A CONSIDERABLE wind ai'ose during the night ; Mr. Hodson
did not sleep very well ; and, lying awake towards morning,
he came to the conclusion that he had been befooled, or
rather that he had befooled himself, with regard to that
prodigy of a gamekeeper. He argued with himself that
his mental faculties must have been dulled by the long
day's travel ; he had come into the inn jaded and tired ;
and then finding himself face to face with an ordinarily
alert and intrepid intellect, he had no doubt exaggerated
the young man's abilities, and made a wonder of him where
no wonder was needed. That he was a person of consider-
able information and showed common sense was likely
enough. Mr. Hodson, in his studies of men and things,
had heard something of the intelligence and education to
be found among the working classes in Scotland. He had
heard of the handloom weavers who were learned botanists ;
of the stone-masons who were great geologists ; of the village
poets who, if most of their efforts were but imitations of
Ferguson and Burns- and Tannahill, would here and there,
in some chance moment of inspiration, sing out some true
and pathetic song, to be taken to the hearts of their
countrymen, and added to a treasure-store of rustic min-
strelsy such as no other nation in the world has ever pro-
duced. At the same time he was rather anxious to meet
Strang again, the better to get the measure of him. And
as he was also curious to see what this neighbourhood into
which he had penetrated looked like, he rose betimes in
the morning — indeed, before the day was fully declared.
The wind still moaned about the house, but outside
there was no sign of any storm ; on the contrary, every-
thing was strangely calm. The lake lay a dark lurid purple
in the hollow of the encircling hills ; and these, along
the eastern heavens, were of the deepest and softest olive
green ; just over them was a line of gleaming salmon-red,
keen and resplendent as if molten from a furnace ; and
over that again soft saffron-dusky clouds, deepening in tone
the higher they hung in the clear pale steel hues of the
ON THE LOCH 23
overhead sky. There was no sign of life anywhere — ■
nothing but the birch woods sloping down to the shore ;
the moorland wastes of the lower hills ; and above these
the giant bulk and solemn shadows of Ben Clebrig,* dark
against the dawn. It was a lovely sight ; he began to
think he had never before in his life felt himself so much
alone. But whence came the sound of the wind that
seemed to go moaning down the strath towards the purple
lake?
Well, he made no doubt that it was up towards the
north and west that the storm was brewing ; and he re-
membered that a window in the sitting-room below looked
in that direction ; there he would be able to ascertain
whether any fishing was practicable. He finished his
dressing and went down. The breakfast table was laid ; a
mighty mass of peats was blazing cheerfully in the spacious
fireplace. And the storm ? Why, all the wide strath on
this northern side of the house was one glow of yellow
light in the now spreading sunrise ; and still farther away
in the north the great shoulders of Ben Loyal f had caught
a faint roseate tinge ; and the same pale and beautiful
colour seemed to transfuse a large and fleecy cloud that
clung around the snow-scarred peak. So he came to
the conclusion that in this corner of the glen the wind
said more than it meant ; and that they might adventure
on the loch without risk of being swamped or blown
ashore.
The slim tall Highland lass made her appearance with
further plenishings for the table, and " Good moarning ! "
she said, in her pretty way, in answer to his greeting.
" Say, now, has that man come down from Tongue yet ? "
" No, sir," said Nelly, " he wass no come down yet."
And then she looked up with a demure smile. " They
would be keeping the New Year at Tongue last night."
"Keeping the New Year on the lith of January ? "
"It's the twelfth is the usual day, sir," she explained,
" but that was Saturday, and they do not like a Saturday
night, for they have to stop at twelve o'clock, and so most
of them were for keeping it last night."
* That is, the Hill of the Playing Trout.
t More properly Ben Laoghal, the Hill of the Calves.
24 WHITE HE A THER
" Oh, indeed. Then the festive gentleman won't show
up to-day ? "
" But it is of no matter whatelfer whether he comes or
no ; for I am sm'e that Eonald will be willing to lend a
hand. Oh, I am sure of it. I will ask him myself."
" You will ask him ? " was Mr. Hodson's internal soliloquy.
" It is to you he will grant the favour. Indeed ! "
He fixed his eyes on her.
" He is a good-looking young fellow, that Eonald."
She did not answer that ; she was putting the marmalade,
and the honey, and the cream on the table.
" He is not married ? "
" No, sir."
" "Well, now, when he thinks about getting married, I
suppose he'll pretty well have his choice about here ? "
" Indeed there iss others besides him," said Nelly rather
proudly, but her face was red as she opened the door.
Well, whether it was owing to the intervention of Nelly
or not, as soon as Mr. Hodson was ready to start he found
Ronald waiting for him without ; and not only that, but he
had already assumed command of the expedition, having
sent the one gillie who had arrived down to bale the boat.
And then he would overhaul Mr. Hodson's fishing-gear — ■
examining the rods, testing the lines and traces, and reject-
ing all the spoon baits, angels, sand-eels, and what not, that
had been supplied by the London tackle-maker, for two or
three of the familiar phantom minnows. Mr. Hodson
could scarcely believe that this was the same man who last
night had been discussing the disestablishment of state
churches and the policy of protecting native industries.
He had not a word for anything but the business before
him ; and the bold fashion in which he handled those
minnows, all bristling with hooks, or drew the catgut traces
through his fingers (Mr. Hodson shivered, and seemed to
feel his own fingers being cut to the bone), showed that he
was as familiar with the loch as with the hillside or the
kennel.
" I'm not much on salmon-fishing myself," the American
remarked modestly.
" It's rather early in the season, sir, I'm afraid," was
the answer. " But we might get a fish after all ; and if
ON THE LOCH ^5
we do it'll be the first caught in Scotland this year, I
warrant,"
They set out and walked down to the shore of the loch,
and there Mr. Hodson seated himself on the gunwale of
the flat-bottomed coble, and watched the two men putting
the rods together and fixing the traces. The day had now
declared itself ; wild and stormy in appearance, but fair on
the whole ; great floods of sunshine falling suddenly on the
yellow slopes and the russet birch woods ; and shadows
coming as rapidly across the far heights of Clebrig, steeping
the mountains in gloom. As for the gillie who had been
proof against the seductions of keeping the New Year, and
who was now down on one knee, biting catgut with his
teeth, he was a man as tall and as sallow as Mr. Hodson
himself, but with an added expression of intense melancholy
and hopelessness. Or was that but temporary ?
" Duncan doesna like that boat," Ronald said, glancing
at Mr. Hodson.
The melancholy man did not speak, but shook his head
gloomily.
"Why?"
As the gilhe did not answer. Eon aid said—
" He thinks there is no luck with that boat."
" That boat ? " the gillie said, with an angry look towards
the hapless coble. " She has the worst luck of any boat in
Sutherland — iam lier ! " he added, under his breath.
" In my country," the American said, in his slow way,
" we don't mind luck much ; we find perseverance about as
good a horse to win with in the end."
He was soon to have his perseverance tried. Every-
thing being ready they pushed off from the shore, Ronald
taking stroke oar, the gillie at the bow ; Mr. Hodson left
to pay out the lines of the two rods, and fix these in the
stern, when about five-and-thirty yards had gone forth. At
first, it is true, he waited and watched with a trifle of anxiety.
He wanted to catch a salmon ; it would be something to
write about to his daughter ; it would be a new experience
for himself. But when time passed and the boat was slowly
rowed along the loch at a measured distance from the shore,
without any touch of anything coming to make the point
of either rod tremble, he rather gave up his hope in that
26 WHITE HEATHER
direction, and took to talking with Eonald. After all, it
was not salmon-fishing alone that had brought him into
these wilds.
"I suppose it is really too early in the season," he
observed, without much chagrin.
" Rayther," said Eonald.
" Eawther," said the melancholy gillie.
But at that instant something happened that startled
every one of them out of their apathy. The top of one of
the rods was violently pulled at, and then there was a long
shrill yell of the reel.
"There he is, sir ! there he is, sir ! " Eonald called.
Mr. Hodson made a grab blindly — for he had been
looking at the scenery around — at one of the rods. It was
the wrong one. But before he knew where he was, Eonald
had got hold of the other and raised the top so as to keep
a strain on the fish. The exchange of the rods was effected
in a moment. Then when Eonald had wound in the
other line and put the rod at the bow, he took to his oar
again, leaving Mr. Hodson to fight his unknown enemy as
best he might, but giving him a few words of direction
from time to time, quietly, as if it were all a matter of
course.
" Eeel in, sir, reel in — keep an even strain on him — let
him go — let him go if he wants "
Well, the fish was not a fierce fighter ; after the first
long rush he scarcely did anything ; he kept boring down-
wards, with a dull, heavy weight. It seemed easy work ;
and Mr. Hodson — triumphant in the hope of catching his
first salmon — was tempted to call aloud to the melancholy
gillie —
" Well, Duncan, how about luck now .? "
" I think it's a kelt," the man answered morosely.
But the sinister meaning of this reply was not under-
stood.
" I don't know what you call him," said Mr. Hodson,
holding on with both hands to the long, lithe grilse-rod
that was bent almost double. " Celt or Saxon, I don't
know ; but I seem to have got a good grip of him."
Then he heard Eonald say, in an undertone, to the
gillie —
ON THE LOCH 27
" A kelt ? N"o fears. The first rush was too heavy for
that."
And the gilHe responded sullenly—
" He's following the boat like a cow."
" What is a kelt, anyway ? " the American called out.
" Something that swims, I suppose ? It ain't a man ? "
" I hope it's no a kelt, sir," said Ronald — but doubtfully.
" But what is a kelt, then, when he's at home ? "
" A salmon, sir, that hasna been down to the sea ; we'll
have to put him back if he is."
Whirr ! went the reel again ; the fish, kelt or clean
salmon, had struck deep down. But the melancholy
creature at the bow was taking no further interest in the
fight. He was sure it was a kelt. Most likely the minnow
would be destroyed. Maybe he would break the trace.
But a kelt it was. He knew the luck of this " tammed "
boat.
The struggle was a tedious one. The beast kept boring
down with the mere force of its weight, but following the
coble steadily ; and even Ronald, who had been combating
his own doubts, at length gave in : he was afraid it was a
kelt. Presently the last suspicion of hope was banished.
With a tight strain on him, the now exhausted animal
began to show near the surface of the water — his long eel-
like shape and black back revealing too obviously what
manner of creature he was. But this revelation had no
effect on the amateur fisherman, who at last beheld the
enemy he had been fighting with so long. He grew quite
excited. A kelt ? — he was a beautiful fine fish ! If he
could not be eaten he could be stuffed ! Twenty pounds
he was, if an ounce I — would he throw back such a trophy
into the loch .?
Ronald was crouching in the stern of the boat, the big
landing-net in his hand, watching the slow circling of the
kelt as it was being hauled nearer and nearer. His senti-
ments were of a different kind.
" Ah, you ugly brute ! — ah, you rascal ! — ah — ah !" — and
then there was a deep scoop of the landing-net ; and the
next minute the huge eel-like beast was in the bottom of
the boat, Duncan holding on to its tail, and Ronald gripping
it by the gills, while he set to work to get the minnow out
28 WHITE HEATHER
of its jaws. And then without further ado — and without
stopping to discuss the question of stuffing — the creature
was heaved into the water again, with a parting benediction
of " Bah, you brute ! " It took its leave rapidly.
" Well, it's a pity, sir," Eonald said ; " that would have
been a twenty-four pound salmon if he had been down to
the sea."
" It's the luck of this tammed boat," Duncan said gloomily.
But Mr. Hodson could not confess to any such keen
sense of disappointment. He had never played so big a
fish before, and was rather proud that so slight a grilse-rod
and so slender a line should (of course, with some discretion
and careful nursing on his part) have overmastered so big
a beast. Then he did not eat salmon ; there was no loss
in that direction. And as he had not injured the kelt in
any way, he reflected that he had enjoyed half-an-hour's
excitement without doing harm to anything or anybody,
and he was well content. So he paid out the two lines
again, and set the rods, and began to renew his talk with
Eonald touching the customs connected with the keeping
of the New Year.
After all, it was a picturesque kind of occupation, kelts
or no kelts. Look at the scene around them — the lapping
waters of the loch, a vivid and brilliant blue when the skies
were shining fair, or black and stormy again when the clouds
were heavy in the heavens ; and always the permanent
features of the landscape — the soft yellows of the lower
straths, where the withered grass was mixed with the orange
bracken ; the soft russet of the leafless birch woods fringing
the shores of the lake ; the deep violet shadows of Ben
Clebrig stretching up into the long swathes of mist ; and
then the far amphitheatre of hills — Ben Hee, and Ben
Hope, and Ben Loyal — with sunlight and shade inter-
mingling their ethereal tints, but leaving the snow-streaks
always sparkling and clear. He got used to the monotony
of the slow circling of the upper waters of the lake. He
forgot to watch the points of the rods. He was asking all
kinds of questions about the stags and the hinds, about
ptarmigan, and white hares, and roe, about the price of
sheep, the rents of crofts, the comparative wages of gillies,
and shepherds, and foresters, and keepers, and stalkers, and
ON THE LOCH 29
the habits and customs of land-agents and factors. And at
length, when it came to lunch-time, and when they landed,
and found for him a sheltered place under the lee of a big
rock, and when Eonald pointed out to him a grassy bank,
and said rather ruefully —
"I dinna like to see that place empty, sir. That's
where the gentlemen have the salmon laid out, that they
may look at them at lunch-time — "
Mr. Hodson, as he opened the little basket that had
been provided for him, answered cheerfully enough —
"My good friend, don't you imagine that I feel like
giving it up yet. I'm not finished with this lake, and I'll
back perseverance against luck any day. Seems to me
we've done very well so far ; I'm con-tent."
By and by they went back into the coble again, and
resumed their patient pursuit ; and there is little doubt that
by this time Ronald had come to the conclusion that this
stranger who had come amongst them was a singularly odd
and whimsical person. It was remarkable enough that he
should have undertaken this long and solitary journey in
order to fish for salmon, and then show himself quite
indifferent as to whether he got any or not ; and it was
scarcely human for any one to betray no disappointment
whatever when the first fish caught proved to be a kelt ;
but it was still stranger that a man rich enough to talk
about renting a deer-forest should busy himself Avith the
petty affairs of the very poorest people around. Why, he
wanted to know how much Nelly the housemaid could
possibly save on her year's wages ; whether she was supposed
to lay by something as against her wedding-day ; or whether
any of the lads about would marry her for her pretty face
alone. And when he discovered that Mr. Murray, the
innkeeper, was about to give a New Year supper and dance
to the lads and lasses of the neighbourhood, he made no
scruple about hinting plainly that he would be glad of an
invitation to join that festive party.
" Not if I'm going to be anything of a wet blanket," he
said candidly. " My dancing days are over, and I'm not
much in the way of singing ; but I'll tell them an American
story ; or I'll present them with a barrel of whisky — if that
will keep the fun going."
30 WHITE HE A THER
" I'm sure they'll be very glad, sir," Ronald said, " if ye
just come and look on. When there's gentlemen at the
Lodge, they generally come down to hear the pipes, and
the young gentlemen have a dance too."
" What night did you say ? "
"Monday next, sir."
Well, he had only intended remaining here for a day or
two, to see what the place was like ; but this temptation
was too great. Here was a famous opportunity for the
pursuit of his favourite study — the study of life and manners.
This, had Eonald but known it, was the constant and
engrossing occupation that enabled this contented traveller
to accept with equanimity the ill-luck of kelt-catching ; it
was a hobby he could carry about with him everywhere ;
it gave a continuous interest to every hour of his life. He
cared little for the analyses of science ; he cared less for
philosophical systems ; metaphysics he laughed at ; but
men and women — the problems of their lives and surround-
ings, their diverse fortunes and aspirations and dealings
with each other — that was the one and constant subject
that engrossed his interest. No doubt there was a little
more than this ; it was not merely as an abstract study
that he was so fond of getting to know how people lived.
The fact was that, even after having made ample provision
for his family, he still remained possessed of a large fortune ;
his own expenditure was moderate ; and he liked to go
about with the consciousness that here or there, as occasion
served, he could play the part of a little Providence. It
was a harmless vanity ; moreover, he was a shrewd man,
not likely to be deceived by spurious appeals for charity.
]\Iany was the young artist whom he had introduced to
buyers ; many the young clerk whom he had helped to
a better situation ; more than one young woman in the
humblest of circumstances had suddenly found herself
enabled to purchase her wedding outfit (with a trifle over,
towards the giving her greater value in her lover's eyes),
through the mysterious benevolence of some unknown
benefactor. This man had been brought up in a country
where every one is restlessly pushing forward ; and being
possessed of abundant means, and a friendly disposition,
it seemed the most natural thing in the world that here or
ON THE LOCH 31
there, at a fitting opportunity, he should lend a helping
hand. And there was always this possibility present to
him — this sense of power — as he made those minute
inquiries of his into the conditions of the lives of those
amongst whom he chanced to be living.
The short winter day was drawing to a close ; the
brilliant steely blue of the driven water had given place
to a livid gray ; and the faint gleams of saffron-yellow
were dying out in the western skies,
" Suppose we'd better be going home now," Mr. Hodson
remarked at a venture, and with no great disappointment in
his tone.
" I'm afraid, sir, there's no such chance now," Ronald said.
" We must call again ; they're not at home to-day," the
other remarked, and began with much complacency to reel
in one of the lines.
He was doing so slowly, and the men were as slowly
pulling in for the shore in the gathering dusk, when ivhiir !
went the other reel. The loud and sudden shriek in this
silence was a startling thing ; and no less so was the spring-
ing into the air — at apparently an immense distance away —
of some creature, kelt or salmon, that fell into the water
again with a mighty splash. Instinctively Mr. Hodson had
gripped this rod, and passed the other one he had been
reeling in to Strang. It was an anxious moment. Whirr !
went another dozen yards of line ; and again the fish sprang
into the air — this time plainly visible.
" A clean fish, sir ! a clean fish ! " was the welcome
cry.
But there was no time to hazard doubts or ask questions ;
this sudden visitor at the end of the line had not at all
made up his mind to be easily captured. First of all he
came sailing in quietly towards the boat, giving the fisher-
man all he could do to reel in and keep a strain on him ;
then he whirled out the line so suddenly that the rod was
nearly bent double ; and then, in deep water, he kept per-
sistently sulking and boring, refusing to yield an inch.
This was a temporary respite.
" Well, now, is this one all right ? " Mr. Hodson called
out — but he was rather bewildered, for he knew not what
this violent beast might not be after next, and the gathering
32 WHITE HEATHER
darkness looked strange, the shadows of Olebrig overhead
seeming to blot out the sky.
" A clean fish, sir," was the confident answer.
"ISTo doubt o' that, sir," even the melancholy Duncan
admitted ; for he foresaw a dram now, if not a tip iu
actual money.
Then slowly and slowly the salmon began to yield to
the strain on him — which was considerable, for this was the
heavier of the two rods — and quickly the line was got in,
the pliant cm've of the rod remaining always the same ;
while Mr. Hodson flattered himself that he was doing very
well now, and that he was surely becoming the master of
the situation. But the next instant something happened
that his mind was not rapid enough to comprehend : some-
thing dreadful and horrible and sudden : there was a
whirring out of the reel so rapid that he had to lower the
point of the rod almost to the water ; then the fish made
one flashing spring along the surface — and this time he saw
the creature, a gleam of silver in the dusk— and then, to
his unspeakable dismay and mortification, he felt the line
quite slack. He did utter a little monosyllable.
" He's off, sir," the melancholy gillie said in a tone of
sad resignation.
" Not a bit, sir, not a bit ! Eeel in, quick I " Ronald
called to him : and the fisherman had sense enough to
throw the rod as far back as he could to see if there was
yet some strain on it. Undoubtedly the fish was still
there. Moreover, this last cantrip seemed to have taken
the spirit out of him. By and by, with a strong, steady
strain on him, he suffered himself to be guided more
and more towards the boat, until, now and again, they
could see a faint gleam in the dark water ; and now
Eonald had relinquished his oar, and was crouching down
in the stern — this time not with the landing-net in his
hand, but with the bright steel clip just resting on the
gunwale.
" He's showing the white feather now, sir ; give him a
little more of the butt."
However, he had not quite given in yet : each time he
came in sight of the boat he would make another ineffectual
rush, but rarely getting down deeper than three or four
ON THE LOCH 33
yards. And then, with a short line and the butt well
towards him, he began to make slow semicircles this way
and that ; and always he was being steadily hauled nearer
the coble ; until with one quick dip and powerful upward
pull Eonald had got him transfixed on the gaff and landed
— the huge, gleaming, beautiful silver creature ! — in the
bottom of the boat.
" Well done, sir ! — a clean fish ! — a beauty — the first
caught in Scotland this year, I know ! " — these were the
exclamations he heard now ; but he scarcely knew how it
had all happened, for he had been more excited than he
was aware of. He felt a vague and general sense of satis-
faction ; wanted to give the men a glass of whisky, and had
none to give them ; thought that the capture of a salmon
was a noble thing ; would have liked his daughter Carry
to hear the tidings at once ; and had a kind of general
purpose to devote the rest of that year to salmon-fishing in
the Highlands. From this entrancement he was awakened
by a dispute between the two men as to the size of the
fish.
" He's twelve pounds, and no more," the melancholy
Duncan said, eyeing him all over.
" Look at his shoulders, man," Ronald rejoined. " Four-
teen pounds if he's an ounce. Duncan, lad, ye've been
put off your guessing by the sight of the kelt."
" He's a good fish whateffer," Duncan was constrained
to admit — for he still foresaw that prospect of a dram when
they returned to the inn, with perhaps a more substantial
handselling of good luck.
Of course, they could do no more fishing that afternoon,
for it was nearly dark ; but it was wonderful how the
capture of this single salmon seemed to raise the spirits of
the little party as they got ashore and walked home. There
was a kind of excitement in the evening air. They talked
in a rapid and eager way — about what the fish had done ;
what were the chances of such and such a rush ; the prob-
able length of time it had been up from the sea ; the
beauty of its shape ; the smallness of its head ; the fresh-
ness of its colour, and so forth — and there was a kind of
jubilation abroad. The first fish caught in Scotland that
year ! — of course, it must be packed forthwith and sent
34 WHITE HEATHER
south to his daughter Carry and her friends. And Mr.
Hodson was quite facetious with the pretty Nelly when she
came in to lay the table for dinner ; and would have her
say whether she had not yet fixed her mind on one or other
of these young fellows around. As for the small hamlet of
Inver-Mudal, it was about as solitary and forlorn a habita-
tion as any to be found in the wilds of northern Scotland ;
and he was there all by himself ; but with the blazing peat-
fire, and the brilliant white cloth on the dinner-table, and
the consciousness that the firm, stout-shouldered, clean-run
fourteen-pounder was lying in the dairy on a slab of cold
stone, he considered that Inver-Mudal was a most enjoyable
and sociable and comfortable place, and that he had not
felt himself so snug and so much at home for many and
many a day.
CHAPTER IV.
A LETTER.
After dinner he found himself with a pretty long evening
before him, and thought he could not do better than
devote the major part of it to writing to his daughter. He
would not confess to himself that he wanted her to know
at once that he had caught his first salmon ; that was but
a trivial incident in the life of a philosopher and student
of mankind ; still she would be glad to hear of his adven-
tures ; and it was not an unpleasant way of passing the
time. So he wrote as follows : — ■
" My darling Carry — You will be rejoiced to learn that
I have discovered a harbour of refuge for you, where that
minute organ you call your mind may lay aside its heaviest
load of trouble. Here, at last, is one corner of Europe where
you need have no fear of anybody mistaking you for one
of the Boston girls of fiction ; indeed you might go about
all day talking your beloved Texas with impunity ; although,
ray dear young lady, that is a habit you would do well to
drop, for sooner or later it will get you into trouble when
you are least expecting it. But short of scalping children
or using a bowie-knife for a fork, I think you might do
or say anything you pleased here ; it is the most out-of-the
A LETTER 35
world sort of place ; a community of fifteen or twenty, I
should guess, hidden away in a hole of a valley, and
separated from the rest of the universe by great ranges of
mountains and interminable miles of moorland. The people
seem very friendly, but shy ; and I don't quite catch on to
them yet, for their speech bothers me— scarcely any two
of them seem to have the same accent ; 'but I hope to get
to know something more about them next Monday, when
they have a New Year celebration, which I am invited to
the same. "Would you like to join in ? By all means come
if you care to ; the station is Lairg ; wire, and I will meet
you there. You will miss the wild excitement of paying
afternoon calls and drinking tea ; but you will get sunlight
and fresh air into your lungs. The talk about the fierce
weather is all nonsense. There is a sprinkling of snow on
the higher hills, but the temperature is quite agreeable.
In any case I expect you to come here with me in March,
when the salmon-fishing will begin in earnest ; and I have
no doubt you will have made the acquaintance of the
whole of the people in a couple of days, shy as they are.
There is another point I have not forgotten. As you seem
determined to set yourself up for your lifetime with reminis-
cences of your travels in Europe, I have had to consider
what you could carry away from here. I am afraid that
Inver-Mudal jewellery wouldn't make much of a show ;
and I haven't seen any shell necklaces or silk scarves or
blue pots about. But what about a Highland maid ? I
suppose the N.Y. Customs officers wouldn't charge much
for that article of vertu. Now the maid who waits on me
here is very pretty and gentle in manner ; and I suppose
she could be induced to go — for a proper consideration ;
and you could begin the training of her now, and have her
quite accomplished by the time we got home. Sounds
rather like slavery, don't it ? — but she would be going to
the land of the free, and the banner would wave over her.
She gets eighty dollars a ye?a' and her board ; I'd go better
than that, if you took a fancy to her.
" But the most remarkable person here — perhaps it is
the contrast between his personal abilities and his position
that is the striking thing — is a deerstalker and gamekeeper
whom they familiarly call Ronald ; and I confess that,
D 2
36 WHtTE HkA THER
with all I had heard of the intelligence of the Scotch
peasantry, this fellow, before I had been talking with him
ten minutes, rather made me open my eyes. And yet,
looking back over the different subjects we fell upon, I
don't know that he said anything so very remarkable on
any one of them. I think it is rather the personal character
of the man that is impressive — the manliness and indepen-
dence of his judgment, and yet his readiness to consider
the other side if you can convince him ; his frank (and, I
should say, foolish) recognition of the differences of social
position ; and then a kind of curious self-respect he has
which refuses to allow him to become quite friendly, though
you may be willing enough to forget that you are talking
of taking a shooting on which he is one of the employes,
and anxious only to converse with him as man to man.
I'm afraid this is rather mixed, but you would have to see
him to understand quite well what manner of person he is
— a good-looking fellow too, well knit together, with a
keen, hard face, full of life and a half-concealed force of
humour. I should judge he would make a pretty fair king
of good company in the unrestrained intercourse of a few
boon companions ; and I imagine he has a hard head if
there should be any drinking going on. What to do with
him I don't know. It is absurd he should be where he is.
His brother has been to college, taken his degree, and is
now in the Scotch Church somewhere. But this fellow
seems quite content to trap foxes and shoot gray crows,
and, in the autumn, look after the grouse-shooting and
deerstalking of other people. A man of his brains would
not be in that position for a fortnight in our country.
Here everything is fixed. He thinks it is natural for him
to be in a subservient position. And yet there is a curious
independence about the fellow ; I don't know what induce-
ment I could put before him to get him out of it. Suppose
we said, ' Come you with us to America, and we'll run
you for President ; ' I'm afraid he'd quote Kingsley in our
face, and be off to ' where the dun deer lie.' In fact his
reverence for the star-spangled banner appears to be of a
mitigated description. I found he knew more than I
expected about our wire-pulling gentry at home ; but then,
on the other hand, I discovered that he knew nothing
A LETTER 37
about the necessity of protecting the industries of a youug
country beyond what he had read in the English papers,
and you know what high old Mother Hubbardism that is.
Now I want to do something for this fellow, and don't know
how. He's too good a man to be thrown away — a kind
of upper servant, as it were, of his lordship. He has
plenty of ability and he has plenty of knowledge in a dozen
different directions, if they could only be applied. But
then he is a dogged kind of a creature — he is not pliant ;
if you can show him sufficient reason for changing he
might change, otherwise not one inch will he budge. What
is the inducement to be ? It is useless offering him an
allotment of land in Nebraska ; here he has miles and
miles of the most picturesque territory conceivable, of
which, save for a month or two in the autumn, he is the
absolute master. He enjoys an ownership over these hills
and moors and lochs more obvious than that of the Duke
himself ; he would not exchange that for the possession of
a bit of table-land on the Platte Valley, unless he were a
fool, and that he is far from being. The Presidentship ?
Well, I waved your beloved banner over him, but he didn't
enthuse worth a cent. However, I must cast about and
see what is to be done with him, for I am really interested
in the man."
At this moment there was a tapping at the door, and
Nelly appeared with a huge armful of peats, which she
began to build up dexterously in the fireplace, always
leaving a central funnel open.
" Say, my girl, when will this letter go south ? " Mr.
Hodson asked.
" To-morrow moarning," was the answer.
" And the fish, too ? "
'' Yes, sir, by the mail cart."
" Has Duncan packed it in the rushes yet ? "
" Oh no, sir, Eonald will do that ; he can do it better
as any of them ; he would not let any one else do it, for
they're saying it iss the first fish of the year, and he's very
proud of your getting the fish, sir."
" Icli audi I " observed Mr. Hodson to himself ; and he
would probably have continued the conversation, but that
suddenly a strange noise Avas heard, coming from some
38 WHITE HE A THER
distant part of the inn — a harsh, high note, all in mono-
tone.
" What's that now, NeUy ? "
"It will be Ronald tuning his pipes," said she, as she
was going to the door,
" Oh, he can play the pipes too ? "
" Indeed, yes, sir ; and better as any in Sutherland, I
hef heard them say," she added.
Just as she opened the door the drones and chanter
broke aAvay into a shrill and lively march that seemed to
flood the house with its penetrating tones.
" I think it's ' Dornoch Links ' he's playing," Nelly said,
with a quiet smile, "for there's some of the fisher-lads come
through on their way to Tongue."
She left then ; but the solitary occupant of the sitting-
room thought he could not do better than go to the door
and listen for a while to this strange sort of music, which
he had never heard played properly before. And while he
could scarcely tell one tune from another except by the
time — the slow, wailing, melancholy Lament, for example,
was easily enough distinguished from the bright and lively
Strathspey — here and there occurred an air — the " 79th's
Farewell," or the " Barren Rocks of Aden," or the " Pibroch
of Donald Dhu," had he but known the names of them — •
which had a stately and martial ring about it ; he guessed
that it was meant to lead the tramp of soldiers. And he
said to himself —
" Here, now, is this fellow, who might be piper to a
Highland regiment, and I daresay all the use he makes
of his skill is to walk up and down outside the dining-
room window of the Lodge and play to a lot of white-
kneed Englishmen when they come down for the autumn
shooting."
He retm-ned to his letter.
" I have the honoiu' to inform you that the first salmon
caught on any Scotch loch this year was caught by me this
afternoon, and to-morrow will be on its way to you. If
you don't believe the story, look at the salmon itself for
evidence. And as regards this loch-fishing, it appears to
me you might have a turn at it when we come up in March
— taking one of the two rods ; a little practice with Indian
A LETTER 39
clubs meanwhile would enable yon to make a better fight
of it when you have to keep a continuous strain on a
fourteen-pound fish for twenty minutes or half an hour.
You must have some amusement or occupation ; for there
is no society — except, by the w'ay, the doctor's daughter,
who might be a companion for you. I have not seen her
yet ; but the handmaiden I have mentioned above informs
me that she is ' a ferry pretty young lady, and ferry much
thought of, and of a ferry great family too.' I should not
imagine, however, that her Highland pride of blood would
bar the way against your making her acquaintance ; her
father is merely the parish doctor — or rather, the district
doctor, for he has either two or three parishes to look after
— and I don't suppose his emoluments are colossal. They
have a pretty cottage ; it is the swell feature of the village,
if you can call the few small and widely scattered houses a
village. You could practise Texas talk on her all day
long ; I daresay she wouldn't know.
" Good-night ; it's rather sleepy work being out in that
boat in the cold. Good-night, good-night ; and a kiss from
the Herr Papa."
Well, by this time the fisher-lads had left the inn and
were off on the way to Tongue — and glad enough to have
a moonlight night for the weary trudge. Eonald remained
behind for a while, drinking a glass of ale with the inn-
keeper ; and generally having to keep his wits about him,
for there was a good deal of banter going on. Old John
Murray was a facetious person, and would have it that Nelly
was setting her cap at Eonald ; while the blushing Nelly,
for her part, declared that Ronald was nothing but a poor
south-country body ; while he in fair warfare had to retort
that she was " as Hielan's a Mull drover." The quarrel
was not a deadly one ; and when Ronald took up his pipes
in order to go home, he called out to her in parting —
" Nelly, lass, see you get the lads to clean out the barn
ere Monday next ; and put on your best ribbons, lassie ;
I'm thinking they'll be for having a spring 0' Tullochgorum."
The pipes were over his shoulder as he walked away
along the moonlit road ; but he did not tune up ; he had
had enough playing for that evening. And be sure that in
his mind there was no discontent because he had no allot-
40 WHITE HEATHER
ment of land on the Platte Valley, nor yet a place in a
Chicago bank, nor the glory of being pipe-major to a High-
land regiment. He Avas perfectly content as he was ; and
knew naught of these things. If there was any matter
troubling him — on this still and moonlight night, as he
walked blithely along, inhaling the ket:i sweet air, and
conscious of the companionship of the f;uthful Harry — it
Avas that the jog-trot kind of tune he had invented for
certain verses did not seem to have sufficient defiuiteness
about it. But then the verses themselves — as they kept
time to his tramp on the road— were careless and light-
hearted enough :
The blossom icas tvliite on the hlackthorn tree.
And the mavis was singing rarely ;
Wlien Meenie, Love Meenie, imlked out w€ me,
All in the springtime early.
" Meenie, Love Meenie, your face let me sec,
Meenie, come answer me fairly ;
Meenie, Love Meenie, loill you wed me,
All in the springtime early ^^
Meenie hut laughed; and hentna the pain
That shot through my heart fu' sairly :
" Ki7id sir, it's a maid that I woidd remain,
All in the springtime early."
And " Hey, Harry, lad," he was saying, as he entered
the cottage and went into the little parlour, where a candle
had been left burning, " we'll have our supper together
now ; for between you and me I'm just as hungry as a
gled."
CHAPTER V.
BEGINNINGS.
Next day promised to give them sharper work on the loch.
The weather had changed towards the morning ; showers
of haQ had fallen ; and now all the hills around — Ben
Hee and Ben Hope and Ben Loyal — had their far peaks
and shoulders powdered over, while the higher slopes
and summit of the giant Clebrig were one solid mass of
white. It was much colder, too ; and the gusts of wind that
BEGINNINGS 41
came hurling along Strath Terry * struck down on the locli,
spreading out like black fans, and driving the darkened
water into curling crisp foam. It was a wild, changeable,
blowy morning ; sunlight and gloom intermingled ; and
ever the wind howled and moaned around the house, and
the leafless trees outside bent and shivered before the
wintry blast.
When the tall Highland lass brought in breakfast it
appeared that the recusant gillie had not yet come down
from Tongue ; but it was no matter, she said ; she would
call Eonald. Now this exactly suited Mr. Hodson, who
wanted to have some further speech with the young man
— in view of certain far-reaching designs he had formed ;
and what better opportunity for talk than the placid trolling
for salmon on the lake there ? But courtesy demanded
some small protest.
" I am afraid I cannot ask him a second day," he
remarked.
" Oh," said she (for she did not wish the gentleman to
imagine that she thought over much of the smart young
keeper), " he ought to be ferry glad if he can be of use
to any one. He is jist amusing himself with the other
lads."
Which was strictly true at this moment. On the little
plateau outside Ronald's cottage two or three of them were
standing together. They had got a heavy iron ball, to
which was attached about a yard and a half of rope, and
one after another was trying who could launch this ball the
farthest, after swinging it three or four times round his
head. It came to Ronald's turn. He was not the most
thick-set of those young fellows ; but he was wiry and
muscular. He caught the rope with both hands, swung
the heavy weight round his head some four or five times — ■
his teeth getting ever and ever more firmly clenched the
while — and then away went the iron ball through the air,
not only far outstripping all previous efforts, but unluckily
landing in a wheelbarrow and smashing sadly a jacket
which one of the lads had thrown there when he entered
upon this competition. When he somewhat ruefully took
* No cloxibt corrupted from Strath Tairihh, tlie Strath of the Bull.
42 WHITE HEATHER
np the rent garment, there was much ironical laughing ;
perhaps that was the reason that none of them heard ISTelly
calling.
" Eonald ! "
The tall, slim Highland maid was pretty angry by this
time. She had come out of the house without any head-
gear on ; and the cold wind was blowing her yellow hair
about her eyes ; and she was indignant that she had to
walk so far before attracting the attention of those idle lads.
" Eonald, do you hear ! " she called ; and she would not
move another yard towards them.
And then he happened to notice her,
" Well, lass, what is't ye want ? "
" Come away at once ! " she called, in not the most
friendly way. " The gentleman wants you to go down to
the loch."
But he was the most good-natured of all these young
fellows ; the lasses about ordered him this way or that just
as they pleased.
" What ! " he called to her, " hasna Fraser come down
from Tongue yet ? "
" No, he has not." ^
" Bless us ; the whisky, must have been strong," said he,
as he picked up his jacket. " I'll be there in a minute,
Xelly."
And so it was that when Mr. Hodson went into the
little front hall, he found everything in trim readiness for
getting down to the loch — the proper minnows selected ;
traces tried ; luncheon packed ; and his heavy waterproof
coat slung over Eonald's arm.
" Seems you think I can't carry my own coat ? " Mr.
Hodson said ; for he did not like to see this man do any-
thing in the shape of servant work ; whereas Eonald per-
formed these little offices quite naturally and as a matter of
course.
" I'll take it, sir," said he ; " and if you're ready now
we'll be off. Come along, Duncan."
And he was striding away with his long deerstalker step,
when j\Ir. Hodson stopped him.
" Wait a bit, man ; I will walk down to the loch with
vou."
BEGINNINGS 43
So Duncan went on, and the American and Ronald
followed.
" Sharp this morning."
" Eayther sharp."
" But this must be a very healthy life of yours — out in
the fresh air always — plenty of exercise — and so forth,"
" Just the healthiest possible, sir."
" But monotonous a little ? "
" 'Deed no, sir. A keeper need never be idle if he
minds his business ; there's always something new on
hand."
" Then we'll say it is a very enjoyable life, so long as
your health lasts, and you are fit for the work ? "
This was apparently a question.
" Well, sir, the head stalker on the Rothie-Mount forest
is seventy-two years of age ; and there is not one of the
young lads smarter on the hill than he is."
"An exception, doubtless. The betting is all against
your matching that record. Well, take your own case :
what have you to look forward to as the result of all your
years of labour ? I agree with you that in the meantime it
is all very fine ; I can understand the fascination of it, even,
and the interest you have in becoming acquainted with the
habits of the various creatures, and so forth. Oh yes, I
admit that — the healthiness of the life, and the interest of
it ; and I daresay you get more enjoyment out of the
shooting and stalking than Lord Ailine, who pays such a
preposterous price for it. But say we give you a fairly long
lease of health and strength sufficient for the work : we'll
take you at sixty ; what then ? Something happens — rheu-
matism, a broken leg, anything — that cripples you. You
are superseded ; you are out of the running ; what is to
become of you ? "
" Well, sir," said Ronald instantly, " I'm thinking his
lordship wouldna think twice about giving a pension to a
man that had worked for him as long as that."
It was a luckless answer. For Mr. Hodson, whose first
article of belief was that all men are born equal, had come
to Europe with a positive resentment against the very
existence of lords, and a detestation of any social system
that awarded them position and prestige merely on account
44 WHITE HE A THER
of the accident of their birth. And what did he find now ?
Here was a young fellow of strong natural character, of
marked ability, and fairly independent spirit, so corrupted
by this pernicious system that he looked forward quite
naturally to being helped in his old age by his lordship — •
by one of those creatures who still wore the tags and rags
of an obsolete feudalism, and were supposed to " protect "
their vassals. The House of Peers had a pretty bad time
of it during the next few minutes ; if the tall, sallow-faced,
gray-eyed man talked with little vehemence, his slow,
staccato sentences had a good deal of keen irony in them.
Ronald listened respectfully. And perhaps the lecture was
all the 'more severe that the lecturer had but little oppor-
tunity of delivering it in his own domestic circle. Truly it
was hard that his pet grievance won for him nothing but a
sarcastic sympathy there ; and that it was his own daughter
who flouted him with jibes and jeers.
"Why, you know, pappa dear," she would say as she
stood at the window of their hotel in Piccadilly, and
watched the carriages passing to and fro beneath her,
" lords may be bad enough, but you know they're not half
as bad as the mosquitoes are at home. They don't worry
one half as much ; seems to me you might live in this
country a considerable time and never be worried by one
of them. Why, that's the worst of it. When I left home,
I thought the earls and marquises would just be crowding
us ; and they don't seem to come along at all. I confess
they are a mean lot. Don't they know well enough that
the first thing [" the fooist thing," she said, of course ; but
her accent sounded quite quaint and pretty if you happened
to be looking at the pretty, soft, opaque, dark eyes] the
first thing an American girl has to do when she gets to
Europe is to have a lord propose to her, and to reject him ?
But how can I ? They won't come along I It's just too
horrid for anything ; for of course when I go back home
they'll say — ' It's because you're not a Boston girl. Lon-
don's full of lords ; but it's only Boston girls they run
after ; and, poor things, they and their coronets are always
being rejected. The noble pride of a Eepublican country ;
wave the banner I ' "
But here Mr. Hodson met with no such ill-timed and
Beginnings 45
flippant opposition. Ronald the keeper listened respect-
fully, and only spoke when spoken to ; perhaps the
abstract question did not interest him. But when it came
to the downright inquiry as to whether he, Strang, con-
sidered his master, Lord Ailine, to be in any way whatever
a better man than himself, his answer was prompt.
" Yes, sir, he is," he said, as they walked leisurely along
the road. " He is a better man than me by two inches
round the chest, as I should guess. Why, sir, the time
that I hurt my kneecap, one night we were coming down
Ben Strua, our two selves, nothing would hinder his
lordship but he must carry me on his back all the way
down the hill and across the burn till we reached the
shepherd's bothy. Ay, and the burn in spate ; and the
night as dark as pitch ; one wrong step on the swing-bridge,
and both of us were gone. There's Peter McEachran at
Tongue, that some of them think's the strongest man iu
these parts ; and I offered to bet him five shillings he
wouldna carry me across that bridge — let alone down the
hill — on a dark night. But would he try ? Not a bit,
sir."
" I should think Peter Mac — what's his name ? — was a
wiser man than to risk his neck for five shillings," Mr.
Hodson said drily. "And you — you would risk yours—
for what ? "
" Oh, they were saying things about his lordship," Eonald
said carelessly.
" Then he is not worshipped as a divinity by everybody ?"
the American said shrewdly.
But the keeper answered, with much nonchalance —
" I suppose he has his ill-wishers and his well-wishers,
like most other folk ; and I suppose, like most other folk,
he doesna pay ower great attention to what people say of
him."
They did not pursue the subject further at this moment,
for a turn of the road brought them suddenly within sight
of a stranger, and the appearance of a stranger in these
parts was an event demanding silence and a concentration
of interest. Of course, to Ronald Strang Miss Meenie
Douglas was no stranger ; but she was obviously a source
of some embarrassment : the instant he caught sight of her
46 WHITE HEATHER
his face reddened, and as she approached he kept his eyes
fixed on the ground. It was not that he was ashamed she
should see him acting the part of a gillie ; for that he did
not care in the least, it was as much a part of his work as
anything else ; what vexed him was lest some sign of
recognition should show the stranger gentleman that Miss
Douglas had formed the acquaintance of the person who
was at the moment carrying his waterproof and his fishing-
rods. And he hoped that Meenie would have the sense to
go by without taking any notice of him ; and he kept his
eyes on the road, and walked forward in silence.
" Who is she ? " Mr. Hodson asked, in an undeiione,
and with some astonishment, for he had no idea there
was any such neatly-dressed and pretty young lady in the
neighbourhood.
Ronald did not answer, and they drew nearer. Indeed,
Meenie was looking quite beautiful this morning ; for the
cold air had brightened up the colour in her cheeks ; and
the wide-apart blue-gray eyes were clear and full of light ;
and her brown hair, if it was tightly braided and bound
behind, had in front been blown about a little by the wind,
and here and there a stray curl appeared on the fair white
forehead. And then .again her winter clothing seemed to
suit the slight and graceful figure ; she looked altogether
warm, and furry, and nice, and comfortable ; and there
was a sensible air about her dress— the blue serge skirt,
the tight-fitting sealskin coat (but this was a present from
the laird of Glengask and Orosay), and the little brown
velvet hat with its wing of ptarmigan plumage (this was a
present not from Glengask, and probably was not of the
value of three halfpence, but she wore it, nevertheless,
when she was at her smartest). And if Ronald thought
she was going to pass him by without a word, he was
mistaken. It was not her way. As she met them, one
swift glance of her Highland eyes was all she bestowed on
the stranger ; then she said, pleasantly, as she passed —
" Good morning, Ronald."
He was forced to look up.
" Good morning. Miss Douglas," said he, with studied
respect ; and they went on.
" Miss Douglas ? " Mr. Hodson repeated, as soon aa
BEGINNINGS 47
they were beyond hearing. "The doctor's daughter, I
presume ? "
" Yes, sir."
"But — but — I had no idea — "why, she is a most un-
commonly pretty young lady — one of the most interesting
faces I have seen for many a day. You did not say there
was such a charming young person in the place ; why, she
adds a new interest altogether ; I fancy my daughter won't
be long in making her acquaintance when she comes here."
Indeed, as they got down to the boat, and the two men
set about getting the rods ready, all his talk was about the
pretty young lady he had seen ; and he scarcely noticed
that Ronald, in answering these questions, showed a very
marked reserve. He could not be got to speak of her
except in curt answers ; perhaps he did not like to have
the melancholy Duncan listening ; at all events, he showed
a quite absorbing interest in the phantom minnows, and
traces, and what not. Moreover, when they got into the
boat, -there was but little opportunity for conversation.
The day had become more and more squally ; there was a
considerable sea on ; it was all the two men could do to
keep sufficient way on the coble so that the phantoms
should spin properly. Then every few minutes a rain-cloud
would come drifting across — at first mysterious and awful,
as if the whole world were sinking into darkness ; then a
few big drops would patter about ; then down came the
sharp clattering shower, only to be followed by a marvellous
clearing up again, and a burst of watery sunshine along the
Clebrig slopes. But these changes kept Mr. Hodson em-
ployed in sheltering himself from the rain while it lasted,
and then getting ofY his waterproof again lest perchance
there might come a salmon at one of the lines. That event
did actually occur ; and when they least expected it. In
one of the heaviest of the squalls they had such a fight to
get the boat along that the minnows, sinking somewhat,
caught the bottom. Of course the rowers had to back
down — or rather to drift down — to get the lines released ;
and altogether the prospect of affairs seemed so unpromising
— the heavens darkening with further rain, the wind blowing
in sharper and sharper gusts, and the water coming heavily
over the bows — that Mr. Hodson called out that, as soon
48 WHITE HEATHER
as he had got the minnows free, they might as well run the
coble on to the land, and wait for calmer weather. But
this was a lee shore. The men were willing to give up for
a time — but not until they had got to the sheltered side ;
so he was counselled to put out the lines again, slowly,
and they began anew their fight against the gale. Well,
he was actually paying out the first of the lines with his
hand, when suddenly — and without any of the preliminary
warnings that usually tell of a salmon being after a minnow
— the line was snatched from his fingers, and out went the
reel with that sharp long shriek that sends the whole boat's
crew into an excitement of expectation. But there was
no spring into the air away along there in the darkened
and plunging waters ; as he rapidly got in his line, he
knew only of a dull and heavy strain ; and the men had
to keep on with their hard pulling against the wind, for
the fish seemed following the boat in this sulky and heavy
fashion.
" What do you think ? " Mr. Hodson said, half turning
round, and not giving plainer voice to his anxieties.
" I'm afraid it's a kelt, sir," the dismal gillie answered.
" Looks like it, don't it ? " the fisherman said rather
dolefully ; for the fish showed no sign of life whatever.
" We'll see by and by," was Ronald's prudent answer ;
but even he was doubtful ; the only good feature being
that, if the fish showed no fight, at least he kept a heavy
strain on the rod.
But it seemed as if everything was conspiring against
them. The black heavens above them burst into a torrent
of rain ; and Avith that came a squall that tore the water
white, and blew them down on the fish in spite of their
hardest efforts. Shorter and shorter grew the line as it was
rapidly got in, and still the fish did not show ; it was now
so near to the boat that any sudden movement on its part
was almost certain to produce a catastrophe. Nor could
they drive the boat ashore ; the beach was here a mass of
sharp stones and rocks ; in three minutes the coble would
have been stove in. With faces set hard the two men
pulled and pulled against the storm of wind and rain ; and
Mr. Hodson — seated now, for he dared not attempt to stand
up, the boat was being thrown about so by the heavy waves
BEGINNINGS 49
—could only get in a little more line when he had the
chance, and look helplessly on, and wait.
Then, all of a sudden, there was a long shrill shriek —
heard loud above the din of wind and water — continued
and continued, and in vain he tried to arrest this wild rush ;
and then, some seventy or eighty yards away, there was a
great white splash among the rushing black waves — and
another — and another — and then a further whirling out of
some fifteen yards of line, until he glanced with alarm at
the slender quantity left on the reel. But presently he
began to get some in again ; the men were glad to let the
boat drift down slowly ; harder and harder he worked at
the big reel, and at last he came to fighting terms with the
animal — kelt or salmon, as it might be — with some five-and
twenty yards out, and the squall moderating a little, so that
the men could keep the boat as they wanted. Nay, he
ventured to stand up now, wedging his legs and feet so that
he should not be suddenly thrown overboard ; and it was
quite evident, from the serious purpose of his face, that all
possibility of this being a kelt had now been thrown aside.
" No kelt is he, Ronald ? " he called aloud.
" Not a bit; sir ! There's no kelt about that one. But
give him time ; he's a good big fish, or I'm sore mis-
taken."
They were far from the end yet, however. The long rush
and the splashing had exhausted him for a while ; and the
fisherman, with a firm application of the butt, thought he
could make the fish show himself ; but still he kept boring
steadily down, sometimes making little angry rushes of a
dozen yards or so. And then all of a sudden began some
wild cantrips. There was another rush of ten or a dozen
yards ; and a clear leap into the air — a beautiful, great,
silvery creature he looked amid all this hurrying gloom ;
and then another downward rush ; and then he came to the
surface again, and shook and tugged and struck with his tail
until the water was foaming white about him. These were
a few terribly anxious seconds, but all went happily by,
and then it was felt that the worst of the fighting was over.
After that there was but the sullen refusal to come near
the boat — the short sheering oflf whenever he saw it or one
of the oars ; but now, in the slow curves through the water,
so WHITE HE A THER
he was beginning to show the gleam of his side ; and
Konald was crouching down in the stern, gaff in hand.
" Steady, sir, steady," he was saying, with his eye on
those slow circles ; " give him time, he's no done yet ; a
heavy fish, sir — a good fish that — twenty pounds, I'm
thinking — come along, my beauty, come along — the hutt
noiv, sir ! " And then, as the great gleaming fish, head up,
came sheering along on its side, there was a quick dive of
the steel clip, and the next second the splendid creature
was in the bottom of the coble.
Mr. Hodson sank down on to his seat ; it had been a long
fight — over half an hour ; he was exhausted with the strain
of keeping himself balanced ; and he was also (what he had
not perceived in this long spell of excitement) wet to the
skin. He pulled out a spirit-flask from the pocket of his
waterproof — as ill-luck would have it, that useful garment
happened to be lying in the bottom of the boat when the
fight began — and gave the two men a liberal dram ; he
then took a sip himself ; and when there had been a general
quarrel over the size of the fish — nineteen the lowest,
twenty-two the highest guess — they began to consider what
they ought to do next. The weather looked very ugly. .It
was resolved to get, up to the head of the loch anyhow,
and there decide ; and so the men took to their oars again,
and began to force their way through the heavy and white-
crested waves.
But long ere they had reached the head of the loch Mr.
Hodson had become aware of a cold feeling about his
shoulders and back, and quickly enough he came to the con-
clusion that sitting in an open boat, with clothes wet through,
on a January day, did not promise sufficient happiness. He
said they might put him ashore as soon as possible.
" Indeed, sir, it's no much use going on in this weather,"
Ronald said, " unless maybe you were to try the fly."
" I thought you said it was rather early for the fly."
" Eayther early," Ronald admitted.
" Rawther," said Duncan.
" Anyhow," observed Mr. Hodson, " I don't feel like
sitting in this boat any longer in' wet clothes. I'm going
back to the inn right now ; maybe the afternoon will clear
up — and then we might have another try."
BEGINNINGS 51
They got ashore at last, and Mr. Hodsoii at once started
off for the inn ; and when the two men had got the rods
taken down, and the fish tied head and tail for the better
carrying of it, they set out too. But Eonald seemed un-
QSiially depressed and silent. Where was the careless joke
— the verse of an idle song — with which he was wont to
brave the discomforts of wind and weather ? The two men
strode along without a word ; and it was not likely that
Duncan the dismal should be the first to break the silence.
Nay, when they got to the inn, Eonald would not go in for
a minute or two, as was his custom, to see the fish weighed
and have a chat. He went on to his own cottage ; got the
key of the kennel ; and presently he and the dogs were
leaving the little scattered hamlet, taking the lonely moor-
land road that led away up the Mudal valley.
He knew not why he was so ill at ease ; but something
had gone wrong. Had his mind been disturbed and dis-
quieted by the American gentleman's plainly hinting to him
that he was living in a fool's paradise ; and that old age, and
illness, and the possible ingratitude of his master were things
to be looked forward to ? Or was it that the sudden
meeting with Meenie, with this stranger looking on, seemed
to have revealed to him all at once how far away she was
from him ? If she and he had met, as every day they did,
and passed with the usual friendly greeting, it would all
have been quite simple and ordinary enough ; but with this
stranger looking on, — and she appearing so beautiful and
refined and neatly dressed, and wearing moreover the
present given her by Glengask and Orosay — while he, on
the other hand, was carrying the gentleman's waterproof
and a bundle of rods — well, that was all different somehow.
And why had she said " Good-morning I " with such a pointed
friendliness ? He did not wish this stranger to imagine that
Miss Douglas and he were even acquaintances. And then
he thought that that very night he would burn all those
stupid verses he had written about her ; that secret and
half -regretful joy of his — of imagining himself in a position
that would entitle him to address her so — was all too daring
and presuming. It is true, she wore the ptarmigan's wing
she had begged him to get for her (and never in all the
years had he so gladly sped up the Clebrig slopes as when
E 2
52 WHITE HEATHER
she sent him on that errand), but that was a trifle ; any
young lady, if she wanted such a thing, would naturally ask
the nearest gamekeeper. And then the other young lady
— the American young lady — when she came, and made
Meenie's acquaintance : would not they be much together ?
Meenie would be still farther and farther away then. He
would himself have to keep studiously aloof if in the
generosity of her heart she wished to be as friendly as ever.
Well, these were not very bitter or tragic thoughts ; and
yet — and yet — there was something wrong. He scarcely
knew what it was, but only that the little hamlet — as he
returned to it after a long and solitary wandering — did not
seem to be the simple and natural and happy place that it
used to be. But one thing he was glad of. The second
gillie had now arrived from Tongue. Consequently his
services would no longer be needed in the coble ; he would
return to his own ways ; and be his own master. And as
for companions ? — well, Clebrig and he had long been
friends.
CHAPTER VI.
A PEOGEAMME.
That same evening little Maggie, having made herself as
smart and neat as possible, went along the dark road to the
doctor's house, was admitted, and forthwith passed upstairs
to Miss Douglas's own room. It was an exceedingly small
apartment ; but on this cold winter night it looked remark-
ably warm and snug and bright, what with the red peats in
the fireplace, and the brilliant little lamp on the table ; and
it was prettily decorated too, with evidences of feminine
care and industry everywhere about. And Meenie herself
was there — in her gown of plain blue serge ; and apparently
the had been busy, for the table was littered with patterns
and designs and knitting needles and what not, while a
large mass of blue worsted was round the back of a chair,
waiting for the winding.
" Help me to clear the table, Maggie," she said good-
naturedly, when her visitor entered, " and then we will get
tea over : I declare I have so many things to think of that
I am just driven daft."
A PROGRAMME 53
" And then she said — with some touch of anger —
" Do you know that I saw your brother — on a cold, wet
day like this — and he was walking along the road, with his
jacket open, and paying no heed at all to the weather ?
Maggie, why do you not make him take some care of
himself ? In January — and he goes about as if it were
June ! How would you Hke it if he were to catch a bad
cold and have to take to his bed ? "Why do you not make
him take care of himself ? "
"He would only laugh at me," the little Maggie said
ruefully. " He doesna mind anything, I do my best to
get his clothes dried when he comes in wet ; but he doesna
like to be bothered — especially if he's writing or reading ;
he says that a pipe keeps the harm away. I'm sure if you
would speak to him, Meenie, he would take a great deal
more care."
" What, me ! " the girl said — and there was a touch of
colour in the pretty refined face ; and then she added, with
a good-humoured smile, " No, he would not mind what I
said, I know. But it is little matter ; for with such a
wilful man you can do nothing except by cunning. Do
you see the wool there, Maggie ? "
She laughed ; but the little, red-haired, freckled girl
looked rather frightened.
" Oh no, Meenie, I dare not take it," she said. " He
would know I had not the money to buy all that wool ; and
then he would ask ; and I should be scolded "
" Nonsense, nonsense ! " the other cried, in her friendly
way. " Do you think a man would ask any such questions ?
It would never occur to him at all ! When the jersey is all
knitted and complete, you will just say to him, ' Eonald,
here is a jersey that I have knitted for you all by myself ;
and you are to put it on whenever there is a cold morning ; '
and you will see he wiU think your knitting it yourself
explains everything. Ask about the wool ? — he will never
think of such a thing. If you hang the jersey on the nail
of his bedroom door, it will be all a matter of course ; I
should not wondei-, now, if he forgot to say ' Thank you.' "
" And then there is another thing," Maggie said, rather
timidly and wistfully. "How am I to tell him that I
knitted the jersey when you know that you will do the
54 WHITE HE A THER
most of it ? For it is always that ; you did nearly all the
socks that we gave to Ronald ; and he thinks it was me."
But here the good humour left Meenie Douglas's face —
that was suddenly grown red and embarrassed.
" How can you talk such foolishness ? " she said, rather
sharply. " If I show you here or there how you are to go
on, is that doing the knitting for you ? 1 wonder you have
no more sense, Maggie. Of course, I will have to begin the
jersey for you ; and if I cast on the stitches for the width of
the neck, what is that ? It is what any one would do for you
— Mrs. Murray, or one of the girls at the inn. And I hope
you are not going away with that idea in your head ; or sooner
or later you will be telling somebody that I am knitting a
jersey for your brother — that would be a fine thing ! "
- A timid appealing hand was put on her arm.
" I am sure that Ronald would rather never see or hear
of any jersey than have anything make you angry, Meenie."
The trouble was over in a moment : the girl was
essentially quick and generous and kind-hearted ; and this
small lassie was about her only companion. Moreover, tea
was brought in at this moment by the maidservant ; and so
the question of the proportion of work contributed by either
of them to Ronald's woollen gear was put aside.
. " And what do you think of this now, Maggie ? " the elder
said, with some eagerness in her face and eyes. " You know
the great preparations they are making for Monday night —
the long barn is to be cleared ; and they are going to have
a chimney made and a fireplace ; and long tables all the
way down, and wooden forms to sit on ; and some of the
lads, they say, are talkijig of a chandelier to be made out of
hoops, and candles stuck all the way round. And all that
trouble for the grown-up folk I Is it fair ? Oh, it is quite
absurd to have such a deal of trouble ; and all for the
grown-up people. Now, if Ronald would help me — and
you know he is such a favourite he always has his own way
with everybody — would it not be a fine thing to ask Mr.
Murray to leave all those preparations as they are for a day
or two — perhaps till Wednesday — and by that time we
could have messages sent to the farms round about, and
all the children brought in for a soiree ? Why should the
grown-up people have everything ? And there would be
A PROGRAMME
55
nobody but ourselves, — that's Ronald and you and I, Maggie,
— for the children would have more freedom and amuse-
ment that way — you see my father is not likely to be back
by then, or we might ask him — and then, with nearly a
week, we could send to Tongue for a great many things — •
and — and — have a splendid children's party just as fine as
fine could be."
She was quite excited over this matter,
" Look," she said, going and fetching a sheet of paper
which was written over in a bold, large hand (her own
handwriting was small and neat enough, but this had been
assumed for so important a public purpose) ; " look at the
programme — it is all guess work as yet, of course, for I
have not asked Eonald ; but I am sure he will help us ;
and if he says it is to be done, then everything will go right
— they will keep the barn for us ; and the people will send
the children ; and those of them who can't go back will stay
the night at the inn. I have saved my pocket-money for
months for it ; but who could have expected such a chance
— the barn all fitted up, and the fire to keep it warm, and
the chandelier ? There now, Maggie, what do you think ? "
The little Maggie took up the big sheet of paper, won-
dering ; for all this was a wild and startling project amid
the monotony of their life in this remote and small hamlet.
CHILDREN'S S0IR:^E.
Inver-Mudal, Wednesday, January 23.
Mr. Ronald Strang in the Chair.
PROGRAMME.
Psalm .
Address
Song
Beading .
Song
Pipe-Music
Service of Tea and CaJ:e.
Service of Baisins.
" My love she's but a lassie ytt." .
" The Cameroniau's Dream."
" O dinna cross the burn, Willie.".
" Lord Breadalbane's March."
. Old Hundredth.
Chairman.
]\rB. Ronald Strangi.
Miss M. Douglas.
Mr. Ronald Strang.
Mr. Ronald Strang.
Service of Oranges.
Hymn . '•Whither, pilgrims, are you going?'* Children.
Duet . " Huntingtower." .
( Miss ]M. Douglas
\ & Miss M. Strang.
56 WHITE HEATHER
But at this point Maggie broke into pure affright.
" Oh, Meenie 1 " she cried — " how can I ? — before them
all I "
" But only before children ! " was the quick remonstrance.
" "Would you have Ronald do everything ? Why, look —
an address — a song — a song — a march on the pipes — is he
to have no rest at all ? "
" But you, Meenie — you can sing so well and without
trouble — I know I will spoil everything "
" No, no, you will spoil nothing ; and we will get through
very well."
" Ferry well," she said, in spite of her Edinburgh birth ;
and she was evidently vastly proud of her skill in drawing
up so brilliant and varied a programme. Maggie continued
her reading — but now in some alarm :
Song . " The Laird o' Oockpen " . . Mr. Ronald Strang.
Beading . " Jeanie Morrison." . . . Miss M. Douglas.
Service of Shortbread.
Song . " Gloomy Winter's now awa'." . Mr. Eonald Strang.
Song . " Auld Lang Syne." . . . The Company.
Vote of thanlis to the Chairman . . . Miss M. Douglas.
Finale.
Pipe-Music, " Caidil gu lo " (Sleep on till day) Mr. Eonald Strang.
Meenie looked and laughed with pleasure ; she was quite
proud of her skill of arrangement.
" But, Meenie," her companion said, " why have ye not
put down a duet between you and Ronald ? He can sing
so well ; and you ; and that would be prettier far than
anything. Do ye no mind the time we were a' away fishing
at Loch Loyal ; and we were walking back ; and Ronald
was telling us of what he saw in a theatre in Edinburgh ?
And when he told us about the young lady's sweetheart
coming in a boat at night, and singing to her below the
window, you knew what it was well enough — and you tried
it together — oh ! that was so fine ! Will ye no ask him to
sing that with ye ? "
Meenie's face flushed somewhat ; and she would have
A PROGRAMME 57
evaded the question with a little laugh but that it was
repeated. Whereupon she said —
" Why, now, Maggie, you have such a memory ! And I
have no doubt there was nonsense going on as we were
walking back from Loch Loyal — for a beautiful night it
was, in the middle of summer, when there is no darkness
at all in the skies all the night long. Oh yes, I remember
it too ; and very well ; but it was amongst ourselves ; we
are not going to have any such nonsense before other
people. And if we were to sing ' 0 hush thee, my baby,'
would not the children be thinking it was a hint for them
to go away to bed ? And besides, surely I have asked
Eonald to do enough for us ; do you not think he will be
surprised, and perhaps angry, when he sees how often his
name comes there ? "
" Indeed no, I'm sure," Maggie said promptly. " There's
just nothing that he wouldna do for you, Meenie."
" But I will wait till I see him in a good humour," said
her friend, laughing, " before I ask him for so much."
" Mich," she said ; unawares she had caught up a good
many of the local touches.
" kxA do ye think ye could ever find him in an ill-
humour wi' you .P " Maggie said, almost reproachfully.
There was no answer to the question ; the programme
was put aside.
" Yery well, then," Meenie said, " we will suppose that is
settled. And what is next ? Why, Maggie, if I had not
the brain of a prime minister, I could never get through so
many schemes. Oh, this is it : of course we shall be very
much obliged to them if they lend us the barn and all its
fittings ; and we should do something for them in return.
And I am sure the lads will be thinking of nothing but the
carpentering ; and the lasses at the inn will be thinking
only of the cooking of the supper, and their own ribbons
and frocks. Now, Maggie, suppose you and I were to do
something to make the barn look pretty ; I am sure Ronald
would cut us a lot of fir-branches, for there's nothing else
just now ; and we could fix them up all round the barn ;
and then — look here."
She had got a lot of large printed designs ; and a heap
of stiff paper of various colours.
58 WHITE HEATHER
" We will have to make paper flowers for them, because
there's none growing just now ; and very well they will look
among the fir-branches. Oh yes, very well indeed. Eed
and white roses do not grow on fir-branches — it does not
need the old man of Eoss to tell us that ; but they will
look very well whatever ; and then large orange lilies, and
anything to make a bold show in so big a place. And if
the lads are making a chandelier out of the hoops of a
barrel, we will ask them to let us put red worsted round
the hoops ; that will look very well too. For we must
do something to thank them, Maggie ; and then, indeed,
when it comes to our turn, we will have the chance too
of looking at the decorations when we have the children's
soir6e."
Maggie looked up quickly.
" But, Meenie, you are coming to the party on Monday
night too ? "
There was no embarrassment on the beautiful, fine,
gentle face. She only said —
" Well, no one has asked me."
And the little Maggie flushed with shame and vexation.
" Indeed, now ! Did Eonald not speak to you about
it ? "
" Oh, I have known about it for a long time," she said
lightly, " and I was very glad to hear of it, for I thought it
was a great chance for me to get the loan of the barn."
" But you — you, Meenie — that they did not ask you flrst
of all ! " the younger girl cried. " But it can only be that
every one is expected to come — every one except the small
children who canna sit up late. And I'm sure I did not
expect to go ; but Mr. Murray, he was joking and saying
that I vrould have to dance the flrst dance wi' him ; and
Ronald said I might be there for a while. But — but — I'm
no going if you're no going, Meenie."
" But that is nonsense, Maggie," the other said good-
naturedly. " Of course you must go. And I should like
well enough "
" I am sure Mr. Mm'ray would put you at the head of
the table — by his own side — and proud, too !" Maggie
exclaimed warmly.
" And I am sure I should not wish anything like that,"
A PROGRAMME 59
Meenie said, laughing. " I would far rather go with you.
I would like to see some of the dancing."
"Oh, Meenie," her companion said, with eyes full of
earnestness, " did you ever see Ronald dance the sword-
dance ? "
" No, I have not, Maggie."
"They say there is none can do it like him. And if
he would only go to the Highland meetings, he could win
prizes and medals — and for the pipe-playing too, and the
tossing the caber. There is not one of the lads can come
near him ; but it is not often that he tries ; for he is
not proud."
" I am glad that he does not go to the Highland meet-
ings," Meenie said, rather quietly, and with her eyes cast
down.
" No, he is not proud," said Maggie, continuing (for she
had but the one hero in all the world), " although there is
nothing he canna do better than any of them. There was
one of the gentlemen said to him last year— the gentleman
hadna been shooting very Avell the day before — he said,
' Ronald, let one of the gillies look after the dogs to-day,
and go you and bring your gun, and make up for my
mistakes ; ' and when he came home in the evening, he
said, ' It was a clean day's shooting the day ; we did not
leave one wounded bird or hare behind us.' And another
gentleman was saying, ' Ronald, if ye could sell your eye-
sight, I would give ye five hundred pounds for't.' And
Duncan was saying that this gentleman that's come for the
fishing, he doesna talk to Ronald about the salmon and the
loch, but about everything in the country, and Ronald
knows as well as him about such things. And his lord-
ship, too, he writes to Ronald, ' Dear Ronald,' and quite
friendly ; and when he was going away he gave Ronald his
own pipe, that has got a silver band on it, and his tobacco •
pouch, with the letters of his name worked in silk. And
there's not one can say that Ronald's proud."
Well, this was very idle talk ; and moreover it was con-
tinued, for the red-haired and freckled little sister was never
weary of relating the exploits of her handsome brother — the
adventures he had had with wild cats, and stags, and seals,
and eagles, and the like ; and, strangely enough, Miss
6o WHITE HEATHER
Douglas showed no sign of impatience whatever. Nay, she
listened with an interest that scarcely allowed her to inter-
rupt with a word ; and with satisfaction and approval, to
judge by her expression ; and all that she would say from
time to time — and absently — was :
" But he is so careless, Maggie 1 Why don't you speak
to him ? You really must make him more heedful of
himself."
However, the night was going by ; and Maggie's praises
and recitals had come to an end. Meenie went down to
the door to see her friend comfortably wrapped up ; but
there was no need of escort ; the stars were shining clear,
though the wind still howled blusteringly. And so they
said good-bye ; and Maggie went on through . the dark to
the cottage, thinking that Meenie Douglas was the most
beautiful and sweet and warm-hearted companion she was
ever likely to meet with through all her life, and wondering
how it came about that Eonald and Mr. Murray and the rest
of them had been so disgracefully neglectful in not inviting
her to the New Year's festivities on the forthcoming-
Monday. Ronald, at least, should hear of his remissness,
and that at once.
CHAPTER YII.
AN EYEIE.
" Come along, Harry, my lad," the young keeper cried next
morning to his faithful terrier, " and we'll go and have a
look up the hUl."
He slipped a cartridge or two into his pocket, more by
custom than design as it were ; put his gun over his
shoulder ; and went out into the cold clear air, the little
terrier trotting at his heels. The vague unrest of the
previous evening was altogether gone now ; he was his
natural self again ; as he strode along the road he was
lightly singing — but also under his breath, lest any herd-
laddie should overhear —
Roses red^ roses ivhite,
Boses in the lane,
Tell me, roses white and red,
Wliere is Meenie ganef
AN EYRIE 6i
And when he got as far as the inn he found that the mail-
cart had just arrived, so he turned aside to have a little
gossip with the small group of shepherds and others who
had come to see whether there were any newspapers or
letters for them. He was a great favourite with these ;
perhaps also an object of envy to the younger of the lads ;
for he lived the life of a gentleman, one might say, and was
his own master ; moreover, where was there any one who
looked so smart and dressed so neatly — his Glengarry cap,
his deerstalking jacket, his knickerbockers, his hand-knitted
socks, and white spats, and shoes, being all so trim and
well cared for, even in this wild winter weather ? There
v/as some laughing and joking about the forthcoming
supper-party ; and more than one of them would have had
him go inside with them to have " a glass," but he was proof
against that temptation ; while the yellow-haired Nelly,
who was at work within, happening to turn her eyes to the
window, and catching sight of him standing there, and
being jealous of his popularity with all those shepherd-lads
and gillies, suddenly said to her mistress —
" There's Ronald outside, mem, and I think he might go
away and shoot something for the gentleman's dinner."
" Very well," said Mrs. Murray ; " go and say that I
would be very much obliged to him indeed if he would
bring me a hare or two the first time he is going up the
hill, but at his own convenience, to be sure."
But that was not the message that Nelly went to deliver.
She wanted to show her authority before all these half-
critical idlers, and also, as a good-looking lass, her indepen-
dence and her mastery over men-folk.
" Ronald," said she, at the door of the inn, " I think you
might just as well be going up the hill and bringing us down a
hare or two, instead of standing about here doing nothing."
" Is that Highland manners, lass ? " he said, but with
perfect good humour. " I'm thinking ye might say ' if ye
please.' But I'll get ye a hare or two, sure enough, and
ye'll keep the first dance for me on Monday night."
" Indeed I am not sure that I will be at the dancing at
aU," retorted the pretty Nelly ; but this was merely to cover
her retreat — she did not wish to have any further conversa-
tion before that lot of idle half-grinnina; fellows.
62 WHITE HEATHER
As for Ronald, lie bade them good-morning, and went
lightly on his way again. He was going up the hill any-
way ; and he might as well bring down a brace of hares for
Mrs. Murray ; so, after walking along the road for a mile
or so, he struck off across some rough and partly marshy
ground, and presently began to climb the lower slopes of
Clebrig, getting ever a wider and wider view as he ascended,
and always when he turned finding beneath him the wind-
stirred waters of the loch, where a tiny dark object, slow-
moving near the shores, told him where the salmon fishers
were patiently pursuing their sport.
No, there was no more unsettling notions in his brain ;
here he was master and monarch of all he surveyed ; and
if he was profoundly unconscious of the ease with which he
breasted this steep hillside, at least he rejoiced in the ever-
widening prospect — as lochs and hills and stretches of
undulating moorland seemed to stretch ever and ever out-
ward until, afar in the north, he could make out the Kyle
of Tongue and the faint line of the sea. It was a wild and
changeable day ; now filled with gloom, again bursting
forth into a blaze of yellow sunshine ; while ever and anon
some flying tag of cloud would come sweeping across the
hillside and engulf him, so that all he could then discern
was the rough hard heather and bits of rock around his
feet. It was just as one of these transient clouds was
clearing off that he was suddenly startled by a loud noise
— as of iron rattling on stones ; and so bewildering was
this unusual noise in the intense silence reigning there that
instinctively he wheeled round and lowered his gun. And
then again, the next second, what he saw was about as
bewildering as what he had heard — a great creature, quite
close by, and yet only half visible in the clearing mist, with
huge outspread wings, dragging something after it across
the broken rocks. The truth flashed upon him in an
instant ; it was an eagle caught in a fox-trap ; the strange
noise was the trap striking here and there on a stone. At
once he put down his gun on an exposed knoll and gave
chase, with the greatest difficulty subduing the eager desire
of the yelping Harry to rush forward and attack the huge
bird by himself. It was a rough and ludicrous pursuit ;
but it ended in capture — ^though here, again, circumspec-
AN EYRIE 63
tion was necessary, for the eagle, with all his ueck-feathers
bristling, struck at him again and again with the talons that
were free, only one foot having been caught in the trap.
But the poor beast was quite exhausted ; an examination of
the trap showed Ronald that he must have flown with this
weight attached to his leg all the way from Ben Euach, some
half dozen miles away ; and now, though there was yet an
occasional automatic motion of the beak or the claws, as
though he would still strike for liberty, he submitted to be
firmly seized while the iron teeth of the trap were being
opened. And then Eonald looked at his prize (but still with
a careful grip). He was a splendid specimen of the golden
eagle — a bird that is only found here and there in Suther-
landshire, though the keepers are no longer allowed to kill
them — and, despite himself, looking at the noble creature,
he began to ask himself casuistical questions. Would not
this make a handsome gift for Meenie ? — he could send the
bird to Macleay at Inverness, and have it stuffed and re-
turned without anybody knowing. Moreover, the keepers
were only charged to abstain from shooting such golden
eagles as they might find on their own ground ; and he knew
from the make of the trap that this one must have come
from a different shooting altogether ; it was not a Clebrig
eagle at all. But he looked at the fierce eye of the beast,
and its undaunted mien ; he knew that, if it could, it would
fight to the death ; and he felt a kind of pride in the
creature, and admiration for it, and even a sort of sympathy
and fellow-feeling.
" My good chap," said he, " I'm not going to kill you in
cold blood — not me. Go back to your wife and weans,
wherever they are. Off ! "
And he tried to throw the big beast into the air. But
this was not like flinging up a released pigeon. The eagle
fell forward, and stumbled twice ere it could get its great
wings into play ; and then, instead of trying to soar up-
ward, it Avent flapping away down wind — increasing in
speed, until he could see it, now rising somewhat, cross
the lower windings of Loch Naver, and make away for the
northern skies.
" It's a God's mercy," he was saying to himself, as he
■went back to get his gun, " that I met the creature in the
64 WHITE HEATHER
daytime ; had it been at night, I would hae thought it was
the devil."
Some two or three hundred feet still farther up the hill-
side he came to his owu eyrie — a great mass of rock,
affording shelter from either southerly or easterly winds,
and surrounded with some smaller stones ; and here he
sate contentedly down to look around him — Harry crouched
at his feet, his nose between his paws, but his eyes watch-
ful. And this wide stretch of country between Clebrig
and the northern sea would have formed a striking prospect
in any kind of weather — the strange and savage loneliness
of the moorlands ; the solitary lakes with never a sign of
habitation along their shores ; the great ranges of mountains
whose silent recesses are known only to the stag and the
hind ; but on such a morning as this it was all as unstable
and unreal as it was wildly beautiful and picturesque ; —
for the hurrying weather made a kind of phantasmagoria of
the solid land ; bursts of sunlight that struck on the yellow
straths were followed by swift gray cloud-wreaths blotting
out the world ; and again and again the white snow-peaks
of the hills would melt away and become invisible, only to
reappear again shining and glorious in a sky of brilliant
blue ; until, indeed, it seemed as if the earth had no sub-
stance and fixed foundation at all, but was a mere dream,
an aerial vision, changed and moved and controlled by
some unseen and capricious hand.
And then again, on the dark and wind-driven lake far
below him, that small object was still to be made out —
like some minute, black, crawling water insect. He took
out his glass from its leather case, adjusted it, and placed
it to his eye. What was this ? In the world suddenly
brought near — and yet dimly near, as though a film inter-
posed— he could see that some one was standing up in the
stern of the boat, and another crouching down by his side.
Was that a clip or the handle of the landing-net ; in other
words, was it a salmon or a kelt that was fighting them
there ? He swept the dull waters of the loch with his
glass ; but could make out no splashing or springing any-
where near them. And then he could see by the curve of
the rod that the fish was close at hand ; there was a minute
or two longer of anxiety ; then a sudden movement on the
AN EYRIE 65
part of the crouching person — and behold a silver-white
object gleams for a moment in the air and then disappears !
" Good ! " he says to himself — with a kind of sigh of
satisfaction as if he had himself taken part in the struggle
and capture.
How peaceful looks the little hamlet of Inver-Mudal !
The wild storm-clouds, and the bursts of sunlight, and the
howling wind seem to sail over it unheeded ; down in the
hollow there surely all is quiet and still. And is Meenie
singing at her work, by the window ; or perhaps superin-
tending Maggie's lessons ; or gone away on one of the
lonely walks that she is fond of — up by the banks of the
Mudal Water ? It is a bleak and a bare stream ; there is
scarce a bush on its banks ; and yet he knows of no other
river — however hung with foliage and flowers — that is so
sweet and sacred and beautiful. What was it he wrote in
the bygone year — one summer day when he had seen her
go by — and he, too, was near the water, and could hear
the soft murmuring over the pebbles ? He called the
idle verses
MUDAL IN JUNE.
Mudal, that comes from the lonely mere.
Silent or ichisperino, vanishing ever.
Know you of cnight that concerns us here ? —
You, youngest of all God's creatures, a river.
Born of a yesterday's summer shower,
And hurrying on with your restless motion.
Silent or tohispering. every hour.
To lose yourself in the great lone ocean.
Your hanlcs remain; hut you go hy.
Through day and through darkness swiftly sailing :
Say, do you hear the curlew cry.
And the snipe in the night-time hoarsely wailing f
Do you watch the icandering hinds in the morn;
Do you hear the grouse-coclc crow in the heather.
Do you see the larlc spring up from the corn.
All in the radiaid summer loeatherl
0 Mudal stream, how little you know
That Meenie has loved you, and loves you ever f ^
And lohile to your ocean home you flow,
She says good-bye to her well-loved river! —
F
66 WHITE HEATHER
0 see you her now — she is coming anigh^
And the flower in her hand her aim discloses :
Laugh, Mudal, your thanks as you're hurrying hy — •
For she flings you a rose, in the month of roses I
Well, that was wi'itten as long ago as last midsummer ; and
was Meenie still as far away from him as then, and as
ignorant as ever of his mute worship of her, and of these
verses that he had written about her ? But he indulged
in no day-dreams. Meenie was as near to him as he had
any right to expect — giving him of an assured and constant
friendship ; and as for these passing rhymes — well, he tried
to make them as worthy of her as he could, though he
knew she should never see them ; polishing them, in so
far as they might be said to have any polish at all, in
honour ;of her ; and, what is more to the point, at once
cutting out and destroying any of them that seemed to
savour either of affectation or of echo. No : the rude
rhymes should at least be honest and of his own invention
and method ; imitations he could not, even in fancy, lay
at Mcenie's feet. And sometimes, it is true, a wild imagina-
tion would get hold of him — a whimsical thing, that he
laughed at : supposing that life — the actual real life here
at Inver-]\Iudal — were suddenly to become a play, a poem,
a romantic tale ; and that Meenie was to fall in love with
him ; and he to grow rich all at once ; and the Stuarts of
Glcngask to be quite complaisant : why, then, would it not
be a line thing to bring all this collection of verses to
Meenie, and say " There, now, it is not much ; but it shows
you that I have been thinking of you all through these
years ? " Yes, it would be a very fine thing, in a romance.
But, as has been said, he was one not given to day-dreams ;
and he accepted the facts of life with much equanimity ;
and when he had written some lines about Meenie that he
regarded with a little affection — as suggesting, let us say,
something of the glamour of her clear Highland eyes, and
the rose-sweetness of her nature, and the kindness of her
heart — and when it seemed rather a pity that she should
never see them — if only as a tribute to her gentleness
offered by a perfectly unbiassed spectator — he quickly re-
minded himself that it was not his business to write verses
but to trap foxes and train dogs and shoot hoodie-crows.
AN EYRIE 67
He was nob vain of his rhymes — except where Mcenie's
name came in. Besides, ho was a very busy person at
most seasons of the year ; and men, women, and children
alike showed a considerable fondness for him, so that his
life was full of sympathies and interests ; and altogether
he cannot be regarded, nor did he regard himself, as a
broken-hearted or blighted being. His temperament was
essentially joyous and healthy ; the passing moment was
enough ; nothing pleased him so much as to have a grouse,
or a hare, or a ptarmigan, or a startled hind appear within
sure and easy range, and to say, " Well, go on. Take your
life with you. Eather a pleasant day this : why shouldn't
yon enjoy it as well as I ? "
However, on this blustering and brilliant morning he
had not come all the way up hither merely to get a brace of
hares for Mrs. Murray, nor yet to be a distant spectator of
the salmon-fishing going on far below. Under this big
rock there was a considerable cavity, and right at the back
of that he had wedged in a wooden box lined with tin, and
fitted with a lid and a lock. It was useful in the autumn ;
he generally kept in it a bottle of whisky and a few bottles
of soda-water, lest any of the gentlemen should find them-
selves thirsty on the way home from the stalking. But on
this occasion, -when he got out the key and unlocked the
little chest, it was not any refreshment of that kind he was
after. He took out a copy-book — a cheap paper-covered
thing such as is used in juvenile schools in Scotland — and
turned to the first page, which was scrawled over with
pencilled lines that had apparently been written in time of
rain, for there were plenty of smudges there. It had
become a habit of his that, when in these lonely rambles
among the hills, he found some further rhymes about
Meenie come into his head, he would jot them down in
this copy-book, deposit it in the little chest, and probably
not see them again for weeks and weeks, when, as on the
present occasion, he would come with frc'sh eyes to see if
there were any worth or value in them. Not that he took
such trouble with anything else. His rhyming epistles to
his friends, his praises of his terrier Harry, his songs for
the Invcr-Mudal lasses to sing — these things were thrown
off anyhow, and had to take their chance. But his solitary
F 2
68 WHITE HEATHER
intercoinmunings away amid these alpine wastes were of a
more serious cast ; insensibly they gathered dignity and
repose from the very silence and awfulness of the solitudes
around ; there was no idle and pastoral singing here about
roses in the lane. He regarded the blurred lines, striving
to think of them as having been written by somebody else :
Through the long sad centuries Clehrig slept,
Nor a sound the silence broke,
Till a morning in spring a strange new thing
Betrayed him and he aivohe ;
And he laughed, and his joyous laugh was heard
From Errihol far to Tongue ;
And his granite veins deep doum were stirred,
And the great old mountain greio young.
'Twas Love Meenie he saio, and she walhed by the shore,
And she sang so sweet and so clear.
That the sound of her voice made him see again
Tlie daicn of the icorld appear ;
And at night he spahe to the listening stars
And charged them a guard to heep
On the hamlet of Inver-Mudal there
A7id the maid in her innocent sleep.
Till the years should go by; and they should see-
Love Meenie talce her stand
'Mong the maidens around the footstool of God—~
She gentlest of all the band !
He tore the leaf out, folded it, and put it in his pocket.
"Another one for the little bookie that's never to be
seen," said he, with a kind of laugh ; for indeed he treated
himself to a good deal of satire, and would rather have
blown his brains out than that the neighbourhood should
have known he was writing these verses about Meenie
Douglas.
" And hey, Harry, lad ! " he called, as he locked the
little cupboard again, " I'm thinking we must be picking up
a hare now, if it's for soup for the gentleman's dinner the
night. So ye were bauld enough to face an eagle ? I
doubt, if both his feet had been free, but ye might have
had a lift in the air, and seen the heavens and the earth
spread out below ye."
AN EYRIE 69
He shouldered his gun and set out again — making his
way towards some rockier ground, where he very soon
bagged the brace of hares he wanted. He tied their legs
together, slung them over his shoulder, and began to
descend the mountain again — usually keeping his eye on
the minute black speck on the loch, lest there might be
occasion again for his telescope.
He took the two hares — they looked remarkably like
cats, by the way, for they were almost entirely white — into
the inn and threw them on to the chair in the passage.
" There you are, Nelly, lass," said he, as the fair-haired
Highland maid happened to go by.
" All right," said she, which was no great thanks.
But Mr. Murray, in the parlour, had heard the keeper's
voice.
" Ronald," he cried, " come in for a minute, will ye ? "
Mr. Murray was a little, wiry, gray-haired, good-natured
looking man, who, when Ronald entered the parlour, was
seated at the table, and evidently puzzling his brains over
a blank sheet of paper that lay before him.
" Your sister Maggie wass here this morning," the inn-
keeper said— still with his eyes fixed upon the paper — " and
she wass saying that maylie Meenie — Miss Douglas— would
like to come with the otliers on Monday night — ay, and
maybe Mrs. Douglas herself too as well — but they would hef
to be asked. And Kott pless me, it is not an easy thing, if you
hef to write a letter, and that is more polite than asking — •
it is not an easy thing, I am sure. Ronald," he said, raising
his eyes and turning round, " would you tek a message ? "
" AVhere ? " said Ronald — but he knew well enough, and
was only seeking time to make an excuse.
" To Mrs. Douglas and the young lass ; and tell them
we will be glad if they will come with the others on Monday
night — for the doctor is away from home, and why should they
be left by themselves ? Will you tek the message, Ronald ? "
" How could I do that ? " Ronald said. " It's you that's
giving the party, Mr. Murray."
" But they know you so ferry well — and — and there will
be no harm if they come and see the young lads and lasses
having a reel together — ay, and a song too. And if Mrs.
Douglas could not be bothered, it's you that could bring
70 WHITE HE A THER
the young lady — oh yes, I know ferry vvcll — if you will ask
her, she will come."
"I am sure no," Ronald said hastily, and with an
embarrassment he sought in vain to conceal. " If Miss
Douglas cares to come at all, it will be when you ask her.
And why should ye write, man ? Go down the road and
ask her yourself — I mean, ask Mrs. Douglas ; it's as simple
as simple. What for should ye write a letter ? AVould yc
send it through the post too ? That's ceremony for next-
door neighbours ! "
" But, Eonald, lad, if ye should see the young lass
herself "
" No, no ; take your own message, Mr. IMurray ; they
can but give you a civil answer."
Mr. Murray was left doubting. It was clear that the
awful shadow of Gilengask and Orosay still dwelt over the
doctor's household ; and that the innkeeper was not at all
sure as to Avhat Mrs. Douglas would say to an invitation
that she and her daughter Meenie — or Williamina, as the
mother called her — should be present at a merry-meeting
of farm-lads, keepers, gillies, and kitchen wenches.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE NEW year's FEAST.
Loud and shrill in the empty barn arose the strains of the
Athole Marcli, warning the young lasses to hasten with the
adjustment of their ribbons, and summoning the young
lads about to look sharp and escort them. The long and
narrow table was prettily laid out ; two candelabra instead
of one shed a flood of light on the white cover ; the walls
were decorated with evergreens and with Meeiiie's re-
splendent paper blossoms ; the peats in the improvised
fireplace burned merrily. And Afhen the company began
to arrive, in twos and threes, some bashful and hesitating,
others merry and jocular, there was a little embarrassment
about the taking of places until Ronald laid down his pipes
and set to work to arrange them. The American gentle-
man had brought in Mrs. Murray in state, and they were
at the head of the table ; while Ronald himself took the
THE NEW YEAR'S FEAST 71
foot, in order, as he said, to keep order — if lie were able —
among the lasses who had mostly congregated there. Tlien
the general excitement and talking was hushed for a minute,
while the innkeeper said grace ; and then tke girls— farm
wenches, some of them, and Nelly, the pretty parlour-maid,
and Finnuala, the cook's youngest sister, who was but lately
come from Uist and talked the quaintest English, and Mr.
Murray's two nieces from Tongue, and the other young
lasses about the inn — all of them became demure and
proper in their manner, for they were about to enjoy the
unusual sensation of being waited upon.
This, of course, was Ronald's doing. There had been
a question as to which of the maids were to bring in supper
for so large a number ; so he addressed himself to the
young fellows who were standing about.
" You lazy laddies," he said, " what are ye thinking 0' ?
Here's a chance for ye, if there's a pennyworth o' spunk
among the lot 0' ye. They lasses there wait on ye the
whole year long, and make the beds for ye, and redd the
house ; I'm thinking ye might do worse than wait on them
for one night, and bring in the supper when they sit down.
They canna do both things ; and the fun o' the night
belongs to them or to nobody at all."
At first there was a little shamefaced reluctance — it was
" lasses' work," they said — until a great huge Highland tyke
— a Ross-shire drover who happened to be here on a visit
— a man of about six feet four, with a red beard big enough
for a raven to build in, declared that he would lend a hand,
if no one else did ; and forthwith brought his huge fist
down on the bar-room table to give emphasis to his words.
There was some suspicion that this unwonted gallantry was
due to the fact that he had a covetous eye on Jeannie,
Donald Macrae's lass, who was a very superior dairy-
mistress, and was also heir-presumptive to her father's
farmstead and about a score of well-favoured cattle ; but
that was neither here nor there ; he was as good as his
word ; he organised the brigade, and led it ; and if he
swallowed a stiff glass of whisky before setting out from
the kitchen for the barn, with a steaming plate of soup in
each hand, that was merely to steady his nerves and en-
able him to face the merriment of the whole gang of those
72 WHITE HEA 2 HER
girls. And then when this red-boarded giant of a Gany-
mede and his attendants had served every one, they fetched in
their own plates, and sat down ; and time was allowed them ;
for the evening was young yet, and no one in a hurry.
Now if Mr. Hodson had been rather doubtful lest his
presence might produce some httle restraint, he was speedily
reassured, to his own great satisfaction, for he was really a
most good-natured person and anxious to be friendly with
everylbody. In the general fun and jollity he was not even
noticed ; he could ask Mrs. Murray any questions he chose
without suspicion of being observant ; the young lady next
him — who was Jeannie Macrae herself, and to whom he
strove to be as gallant as might be — was very winsome and
gentle and shy, and spoke in a more Highland fashion than
he had heard yet ; while otherwise he did not fare at all
badly at this rustic feast, for there were boiled fowls and
roast hares after the soup, and there was plenty of ale
passed round, and tea for those who wished it. Nay, on
the contrary, he had rather to push himself forward and
assert himself ere he could get his proper share of the work
that was going on. He insisted upon carving for at least
half a dozen neighbours ; he was most attentive to the
pretty Highland girl next him ; and laughed heartily at
Mrs. Murray's Scotch stories, which he did not quite
understand ; and altogether entered into the spirit of the
evening. But there was no doubt it was at the other end
of the table that the fun was getting fast and furious ; and
just as little doubt that Ronald the keeper was suffering
considerably at the hands of those ungrateful lasses for
whom he had done so much. Like a prudent man, he
held his tongue and waited his opportunity ; taking their
teasing with much good humour ; and paying no heed to
the other young fellows who were urging him to face and
silence the saucy creatures. And his opportunity came in
the most unexpected way. One of the girls, out of pure
mischief, and without the least notion that she would be
overheard, rapped lightly on the table, and said : " Mr.
Eonald Strang will now favour us with a song." To her
amazement and horror there was an almost instant silence ;
for an impression had travelled up the table that some
announcemeiit was about to be made.
THE NEW YEAR'S FEAST 73
" What is it now ? What are you about down there ? "
their host called to them — and the silence, to her who had
unwittingly caused it, was terrible.
But another of the girls, still bent on mischief, was bold
enough to say :
" Oh, it's Ronald that's going to sing us a song."
" Sing ye a song, ye limmer, ere ye're through with your
supper ? " Ronald said sharply. " I'd make ye sing your-
self— with a leather strap — if I had my will o' ye."
But this was not heard up the table.
" Very well, then, Ronald," the innkeeper cried, graciously.
" Come away with it now. There is no one at all can
touch you at that."
" Oh, do not ask him," the pretty Nelly said — apparently
addressing the company, but keeping her cruel eyes on him.
" Do not ask Ronald to sing. Ronald is such a shy lad."
He glanced at her ; and then he seemed to make up
his mind.
" Very well, then," said he, " I'll sing ye a song — and
let's have a chorus, lads."
Now in Sutherlandshire, as in many other parts of the
Highlands, the chief object of singing in company is to
establish a chorus ; and the audience, no matter whether
they have heard the air or not, so soon as it begins, proceed
to beat time with hand and heel, forming a kind of accom-
panying tramp, as it were ; so that by the time the end of
the first verse is reached, if they have not quite caught the
tune, at least they can make some kind of rhythmic noise
with the refrain. And on this occasion, if the words were
new— and Ronald, on evil intent, took care to pronounce
them clearly — the air was sufficiently like " Jenny dang the
Weaver " for the general chorus to come in, in not more
than half a dozen keys. This was what Ronald sang — and
he sang it in that resonant tenor of his, and in a rollicking
fashion — just as if it were an impromptu, and not a weapon
that he had carefully forged long ago, and hidden away to
serve some such chance as the present :
O Zajise,"?, lasses, gang your ways,
And dust the house, or wash the claes.
Ye put me in a hind o' hlaze —
Fe'ZZ break my heart among ye 1
74 WHITE HEATHER
The girls rather hung their heads — the imputation that
they were all setting their cajjs at a modest youth who
wanted to have nothing to do with them was scarcely what
they expected. But the lads had struck the tune somehow ;
and there was a roaring chorus, twice repeated, with heavy
boots marking the time —
Fc'ZZ hreali my heart among ye !
And then the singer proceeded — gravely —
At liirli or marl:ct, morn or e'en.
The lihe o' than was never seen.
For each is kind, and each a queen; —
Ye^ll breah my heart among ye!
And again came the roaring chorus from the delighted lads — -
Fe'ZZ hreah my heart among ye!
There was but one more verse —
Tliere's that one darh, and that one fair,
And yon has iveaUh o" yellow hair;
Gang hame, gang home — I can nae mair —
Ye'll hreah my heart among ye !
Yellow hair ? The allusion was so obvious that the
pretty Nelly blushed scarlet — all the more visibly because
of her fair complexion ; and when the thunder of the
thrice-repeated refrain had ceased, she leant forward and
said to him in a low voice, but with much terrible meaning —
" My lad, when I get you by yourself, I'll give it to you ! "
They had nearly finished supper by this time ; but ere
they had the decks cleared for action, there was a formal
ceremony to be gone through. The host produced his
quaich — a small cup of horn, with a handle on each side ;
and likewise a bottle of whisky ; and as one guest after
another took hold of the quaich with the thumb and fore-
finger of each hand, the innkeeper filled the small cup with
whisky, which had then to be drank to some more or less
appropriate toast. These were in Gaelic for the most part —
" To the goodman of the inn " ; " To the young girls that are
Jcind, and old wives that keep a dean house " ; " Good health ;
and good Inch in finding things washed ashore^'' and so forth
THE NEW YEAR'S FEAST 75
— and when it came to Mr. Hodson's turn, he would have
a try at the Gachc too.
" I think I can wrestle with it, if you give me an easy one,"
he remarked, as he took the quaich between his fingers and
held it till it was filled.
"Oh no, sir, do not trouble about the Gaelic," said his
pretty neighbour Jeannie — blushing very much, for there
was comparative silence at the time.
"But I want to have my turn. If it's anything a white
man can do, I can do it."
"Bay air do shlainte — that is, your good health," said
Jeannie, blushing more furiously than ever.
He carefully balanced the cup in his hands, gravely
turned towards his hostess, bowed to her, repeated the
magic words with a very fair accent indeed, and drained off
the whisky — amid the general applause ; though none of
them suspected that the swallowing of the whisky was to
him a much more severe task than the pronunciation of
the Gaelic. And then it came to Ronald's turn.
" Oh no, Mr. Murray," said the slim-waisted Nelly, who
had recovered from her confusion, and whose eyes were
now as full of mischief as ever, " do not ask Ronald to say
anything in the Gaelic ; he is ashamed to hear himself
speak. It is six years and more he has been trying to say
' a young calf,' and he cannot do it yet."
" And besides, he's thinking of the lass he left behind in
the Lothians," said her neighlaour.
" Ajid they're all black-haired girls there," continued the
fair-haired Nelly. " Ronald, drink ' mo nighean diihh^ "
He fixed his eyes on her steadily, and said : " Tir nam
heann, nan gJeann, s^nan gaisgcach ;* and may all the saucy
jades m Sutherland find a husband to keep them in order
ere the year be out."
And now two or three of the lasses rose to clear the
table ; for the red-bearded drover and his brigade had not
the skill to do that ; and the men lit their pipes ; and there
was a good deal of joyous schicarmcrci. In the midst of it
all there was a rapping of spoons and knuckles at the upper
end of the table ; and it was clear, from the importance of
his look, that Mr. Murray himself was about to favour the
* The land of hills and glens and heroes.
76 WHITE HEATHER
company — so that a general silence ensued. And very well
indeed did the host of the evening sing— in a shrill, high-
pitched voice, it is true, but still with such a multitude of
small flourishes and quavers and grace notes as showed
he had once been proud enough of his voice in the days
gone by. " Scotland yet " he sang ; and there was a uni-
versal rush at tlie chorus — ■
*' Awl trnw ye as I sing, my lads.
The hurden ot shall he,
Auld Scotland's howes, and Scotland's Jcnowes,
And Scotland's hills for me,
I'll drinh a cup to Scotland yet,
Wi' a' the lionours three."
And was their American friend to be excluded ? — not if he
knew lb. He could make a noise as well as any ; and he
waved the quaich — which had wandered back to him —
round his head ; and strident enough was his voice with
" Til drinh a cup to Scotland yet,
Wi' a' the honours three."
" I feel half a Scotchman already," said he gaily to his
hostess.
" Indeed, sir, I wish you were altogether one," she said
in her gentle way. " I am sure I think you would look a
little better in health if you lived in this country."
" But I don't look so ill, do I ? " said he — rather dis-
appointed ; for he had been striving to be hilarious, and
had twice drank the contents of the quaich, out of pure
friendliness.
" Well, no, sir," said Mrs. Murray politely, " not more
than most of them I hef seen from your country ; but
surely it cannot be so healthy as other places ; the young
ladies are so thin and delicate-looking whatever ; many a
one I would like to hef kept here for a while — for more
friendly young ladies I never met with anywhere — just to
see what the mountain air and the sweet milk would do
for her."
*' Well, then, Mrs. Murray, you will have the chance of
trying your doctoring on my daughter when she comes up
here a few weeks hence ; but I think you won't find much
THE NEW YEARS FEAST 'jj
of the invalid about her — it's my belief she could give
twenty pounds to any girl I know of in a go-as-you-please
race across the stiffest ground anywhere. There's not much
the matter with my Carry, if she'd only not spend the whole
day in those stores in Regent Street. Well, that will be
over when she comes here ; I should think it'll make her
stare some, if she wants to buy a veil or a pair of gloves."
But the girls at the foot of the table had been teasing
Ronald to sing something ; silence was forthwith procured ;
and presently — for he was very good natured, and sang
whenever he was asked — the clear and penetrating tenor
voice was ringiug along the rafters •
*' The news frae Mo i dart cam' yestreen.
Will soon gar many ferlie,*
For ships o' icar hae jiist come in
A7id landed royal Charlie."
It was a well-known song, with a resounding chorus ;
" Come through the heather, around him gather,
Ye're a' the icelcomer early ;
Around him cling icV a' your hin,
For icluCll he king hut Charlie'^"
Nay, was not this the right popular kind of song — to have
two choruses instead of one ? — •
" Come through the heather, around him gather.
Come Eonald, and Donald, come a'thegitlier
And claim your right/ u' lawfu' king.
For icha'll he king but Charlie ? "
This song gave great satisfaction ; for they had all taken
part in the chorus ; and they were pleased with the melo-
dious result. And then the lasses were at him again :
" Ronald, sing ' Doon the burn, Davie lad.' "
" Ronald, will you not give us ' Logan AVater ' now ? "
" Ronald, ' Auld Joe Nicholson's Bonnie Nannie ' or
' My Peggy is a young thing ' — whichever you like best
yourself."
"No, no," said the pretty Nelly, "ask him to sing
' When the kye come hame,' and he will be thinking of the
black-haired lass he left in the Lothians."
* " Ferlie," wonder.
78 WHITE HEATHER
" Gae wa', gae wa'," said he, rising aud shaking himself
free from them. " I ken what'll put other things into your
heads — or into your heels rather."
He picked up his pipes, which had been left in a corner,
threw the drones over his shoulder, and marched to the
upper end of the barn ; then there was a preliminary groan
or two, and presently the chanter broke away into a lively
reel tunc. The effect of this signal, as it might be called,
was magical ; every one at once divined what was needed ;
and the next moment they were all helping to get the long
table separated into its component parts and carried out
into the dark. There was a cross table left at the upper
end, by the peat-fire, for the elderly people and the
spectators to sit at, if they chose ; the younger folk had
wooden forms at the lower end ; but the truth is that they
were so eager not to have any of the inspiriting music
thrown away that several sets were immediately formed, and
off they went to the brisk strains of Miss Jenny Gordon'' s
Favour lie— mievl\y\&tmg deftly, setting to partners again,
fingers and thumbs snapped in the air, every lad amongst
them showing off his best steps, and ringing whoops sent
up to the rafters as the reel broke oft" again into a quick
strathspey. It Avas- wild and barbaric, no doubt ; but
there was a kind of rhythmic poetry in it too ; Ronald
grew prouder and prouder of the fire that he could infuse
into this tempestuous and yet methodical crowd ; the
whoops became yells ; and if the red-bearded drover,
dancing opposite the slim-figured Nelly, Avould challenge
her to do her best, and could himself perform some re-
markable steps and shakes, well, Nelly was not ashamed to
raise her gown an inch or two just to show him that he was
not dancing with a flat-footed creature, but that she had
swift toes and graceful ankles to compare with any. And
then again they would trip off into the figure 8, swinging
round with arms interlocked ; and again roof and rafter
would " dirl " with the triumphant shouts of the men. Then
came the long wailing monition from the pipes ; the sounds
died down ; panting and laughing and rosy-cheeked the
lasses were led to the benches by their partners ; and a
general halt was called.
Little Maggie stole up to her brother.
THE NEW YEAR'S FEAST 79
" I'm going home now, Eonald," she said.
*' Very well," he said. " Mind you go to bed as soon as
ye get in. Good-night, lass."
" Good-night, Eonald."
She was going away, when he said to her—
" Maggie, do ye think that Miss Douglas is not coming
along to see the dancing ? I thought she would do that if
she would rather no come to the supper."
In truth he had had his eye on the door all the time he
was playing Mias Jenny Gordonh Favourite.
" I am sure if she stays away," the little Maggie said, " it
is not her own doing. Meenio wanted to come. It is
very hard that everybody should be at the party and not
Meenie."
" Well, well, good-night, lass," said he ; for the young folk
were choosing their partners again, and the pipes were
wanted. Soon there was another reel going on, as fast and
furious as before.
At the end of this reel — Meenie had not appeared, by the
way, and Eonald concluded that she was not to be allowed
to look on at the dancing— the yellow-haired Nelly came
up to the top of the room, and addressed Mrs. Murray in
the Gaelic ; but as she finished up with the word quadrille,
and as she directed one modest little glance towards Mr.
Hodson, that amiable but astute onlooker naturally inferred
that he was somehow concerned in this speech. Mrs.
Murray laughed.
" Web, sir, the girls are asking if you would not like to
have a dance too ; and they could have a quadrille."
" I've no cause to brag about my dancing," he said good-
humouredly, " but if Miss Nelly will see me through, I dare
say we'll manage somehow. Will you excuse my ignor-
ance ? "
Now the tall and slender Highland maid had not in any
way bargained for this — it was merely friendliness that had
prompted her proposal ; but she could not well refuse ; and
soon one or two sets were formed ; and a young lad called
Munro, from Lairg, who had brought his fiddle with him for
this great occasion, proceeded to tune up. The quadrille,
when it came off, was performed with more of vigour than
science ; there was no ignominious shirking of steps — no
8o WHITE HEATHER
idle and languid walking — but a thorough and resolute
flinging about, as the somewhat bewildered Mr. Hodson
speedily discovered. However, he did his part gallantly,
and was now grown so gay that when, at the end of the
dance, he inquired of the fair Kelly whether she would like
to have any little refreshment, and when she mildly
suggested a little water, and offered to go for it herself, he
would hear of no such thing. No, no ; he went and got
some soda-water, and declared that it was much more
wholesome with a little whisky in it ; and had some himself
also. Gay and gallant ? — why, certainly. He tlircw off
thirty years of his life ; he forgot that this was the young
person who would be waiting at table after his daughter
Carry came hither : he would have danced another quadrille
with her ; and felt almost jealous when a young fellow
came up to claim her for the Hi/jMand Scliottische — thus
sending him back to the society of Mrs, Murray. And it
was not until he had sate down that he remembered he had
suggested to his daughter tlie training of this pretty High-
land girl for the position of maid and travelling companion.
But what of tliat ? If all men were born equal, so were
women ; and he declared to himself that any day he would
rather converse with Nelly tlie pretty ]mrlour-maid than
(supposing him to have the chance) with Her Hlustrious
Highness the Princess of Pfalzgrafwciler-Gunzenhausen.
In the meantime Ronald, his pipes not being then
needed, had wandered out into the cold night-air. There
were some stai's visible, but they shed no great light ; the
world lay black enough all around. He went idly and
dreamily along the road — the sounds in the barn growing-
fainter and fainter — until he reached the plateau where
his own cottage stood. There was no light in it anywhere ;
doubtless Maggie had at once gone to bed, as she had
been bid. And then he wandered on again — walking a
little more quietly — until he reached the doctor's house.
Here all the lights were out but one ; there was a red glow
in that solitary window ; and he knew that that was
Meenie's room. Surely she could not be sitting up and
listening ? — even the skirl of the pipes could scarcely be
heard so far ; and her window was closed. Eeading,
perhaps ? He knew so many of her favourites—" The
ENTICEMENTS 8r
Burial March of Dundee," " Jeannie Morrison," " Bonny
KQmeny," " Ohristabel," the " Hymn before Sunrise in the
Yalley of Chamounix," and others of a similar noble or
mystical or tender kind ; and perhaps, after all, these
were more in consonance with the gentle dignity and rose-
sweetness of her mind and nature than the gambols of a lot
of fann-lads and wenches ? He walked on to the bridge,
and sate down there for a while, in the dark and the silence ;
he could hear the Mudal Water rippling by, but could see
nothing. And when he passed along the road again, the
light in the small red-blinded window was gone ; Meenie
was away in the world of dreams and phantoms — and he
wondered if the people there knew who this was who had
come amongst them, with her wondering eyes and sweet ways.
He went b3,ck to the barn, and resumed his pipe-playing
with all his wonted vigour — waking up the whole thing, as
it were ; but nothing could induce him to allow one or
other of the lads to be his substitute, so that he might go
and choose a partner for one of the reels. He would not
dance ; he said his business was to keep the merry-making
going. And he and they did keep it going till between
five and six in the morning, when all hands were piped for
the singing of " Auld Lang Syne : " and thereafter there was
a general dispersal, candles going this way and that through
the blackness like so many will-o'-the-wisps ; and the last
good-nights at length sank into silence — a silence as
profound and hushed as that that lay over the unseen
heights of Clebrig and the dark and still lake below.
CHAPTER IX.
ENTICEMENTS.
At about eleven o'clock on the same morning Miss Douglas
was standing at the window of her own little room looking
rather absently at the familiar wintry scene without, and
occasionally turning to a letter that she held in her hand,
and that she had apparently just then written. Presently,
however, her face brightened. There was a faint sound in
the distance as of some one singing ; no doubt that was
Bonald ; he would be coming along the road with the dogs,
G
83 WHITE HE A THER
and if she were in any difficulty he would be the one to
help. So she waited for a second or two, hoping to be
able to signal him to stop ; and the next minute he was in
sight, walking briskly with his long and steady stride, the
small terrier at his heels, the other dogs — some handsome
Gordon setters, a brace of pointers, and a big brown
retriever — ranging farther afield..
But why was it, she asked herself, that whenever he
drew near her father's cottage he invariably ceased his
singiug ? Elsewhere, as well she knew, he beguiled the
tedium of these lonely roads with an almost constant succes-
sion of songs and snatches of songs ; but here he invariably
became mute. And why did he not raise his eyes to the
window^ — where she was waiting to give him a friendly wave
of the hand, or even an invitation to stop and come within
doors for a minute or two ? ISlo, on he went with that long
stride of his, addressing a word now and again to one or
other of the dogs, and apparently thinking of nothing else.
So, as there was nothing for it now but to go out and
intercept him on his return, she proceeded to put on her
ulster and a close-fitting deerstalker's cap ; and thus
fortified against the gusty north wind that was driving
clouds and sunshine across the loch and along the slopes of
Clebrig, she left the cottage, and followed the road that he
had taken.
As it turned out, she had not far to go ; for she saw
that he was now seated on the parapet of the little bridge
spanning the Mudal Water, and no doubt he was cutting
tobacco for his pipe. When she drew near, he rose ; when
she drew nearer, he put his pipe in his Avaistcoat pocket.
"Good-morning, Ronald!" she cried, and the pretty
fresh-tinted face smiled on him, and the clear gray-blue
Highland eyes regarded him in the most frank and friendly
way, and without any trace whatever of maiden bashfulness.
" Good-morning, Miss Douglas," said he ; he was far
more shy than she Avas.
"What a stupid.thing happened this morning," said she.
" When I hoard that the American gentleman was going
south, I wanted to tell the driver to briug the children
from Crask with him as he came back in the evening ; and
I sent Elizabeth round to the inn to tell him that : and
ENTICEMENTS 83
then — what do you think ! — they had started away half
an hour before there was any need. But now I have written
a letter to the Crask people, asking them to stop the
waggonette as it comes back in the afternoon, and telling
them that Ave will make the children very comfortable here
for the night ; and if only I could get it sent to Crask
everything would be arranged. And do you think now you
could get one of the young lads to take it to Crask if I gave
him a shilling ? "
She took out her purse, and selected a shilling from the
very slender store of coins there.
" It is not much for so long a walk," she said, rather
doubtfully. " Eight miles there and eight back — is it
enough, do you think ? "
" Oh, I'll get the letter sent for ye. Miss Douglas, easily
enough," said he — and indeed he had already taken it from
her hand.
Then she offered him the shilling, but with a little
gesture he refused it. And then — for there flashed upon
her mind a sudden suspicion that perhaps he might choose
to walk all that way himself just to please her (indeed, he
had done things like that before) — she became greatly
embarrassed,
" Give me the letter, Ronald," said she, " and I will find
some one myself. You are going away now with the dogs."
" Oh no," said he, " I will see that the Crask folk get
your message."
" And the money to pay the lad ? " said she timidly.
"Dinna bother your head wi' that," he answered.
" There's enough money scattered about the place just now
- — the American gentleman was free-handed this morning.
Ay, and there's something I've got for you."
" For me ? " she said, with her eyes opening somewhat.
" Well," said he (and very glad he was to have the letter
safe and sound in his possession), " I was telling him about
the children's party to-morrow night ; and he's a friendly
kind o' man, that ; he said he would like to have been at
it, if he could have stayed ; and I'm sure lie would have
got on wi' them well enough, for he's a friendly kind of
man, as I say. Well, then, I couldna tell him the exact
number 0' the bairns ; but no matter what number, each
G 2
84 WHITE HE A THER
one o' them is to find sevenpence under the teacup — tiiat's
a penny for each fish he got. Ay, he's a shrewd-headed
fellow, too ; for says he ' I suppose, now, the old people
will be for having the children save up the sixpence, so at
least they'll have the penny to spend ; ' and he was curious
even to find out where the bairns in a place like this got
their toys, or if sweeties ever came their way. ' It's little
enough of either o' them,' I said to him, ' they see, except
when Miss Douglas has been to Lairg or Tongue ; ' and he
was very anxious to make your acquaintance, I may tell ye,
but he said he would wait till his daughter came with him
the next time. I'm thinking the bairns will be pleased to
find a little packet of money in the saucers ; and it's not too
much for a man to pay for the luck o' getting seven salmon
in the middle of January — for who could have expected
that ? "
And then Meenie laughed.
" It's little you know, Eonald, what is in store for you
to-morrow night. It will be the hardest night's work you
ever undertook in your life."
" I'm not afraid o't," he answered simply.
" But you do not know yet."
She opened her' ulster and from an inside pocket pro-
duced the formidable document that she had shown to
Eonald's sister ; and then she buttoned the long garment
again, and contentedly sate herself down on the low stone
parapet, the programme in her hand. And now all trace
of embarrassment was fled from her ; and when she spoke
to him, or smiled, those clear frank eyes of hers looked
straight into his, fearing nothing, but only expecting a
welcome. She did not, as he did, continually remember
that she was Miss Douglas, the doctor's daughter, and he
merely a smart young deerstalker. To her he was simply
Ronald — the Ronald that every one knew and liked ; who
had a kind of masterful way throughout this neighbourhood,
and was arbiter in all matters of public concern ; but who,
nevertheless, was of such amazing good nature that there
was no trouble he would not undertake to gratify her
slightest wish. And as he was so friendly and obliging
towards her, she made no doubt he was so to others ; and
that would account for his great popularity, she considered ;
ENTICEMENTS 85
and she thought it was very kicky for this remote little
hamlet that it held within it one who was capable of pro-
ducing so much good feeling, and keeping the social atmo-
sphere sweet and sound.
As for him, he met this perfect friendship of hers with a
studied respect. Always, if it was on the one side " Eonald,"
on the other it. was " Miss Douglas." Why, her very costume
was a bar to more familiar relations. At this moment, as
she sate on the stone parapet of the bridge, looking down at
the document before her, and as he stood at a little distance,
timidly awaiting what she had to say, it occurred to him
again, as it had occurred before, that no matter what dress
it was, each one seemed to become her better than any
other. What was there particular in a tight-fitting gray
ulster and a deerstalker's cap ? and yet there was grace
there, and style, and a nameless charm. If one of the
lasses at the inn, now, were sent on an errand on one of
these wild and blustering mornings, and got her hair blown
about, she came back looking untidy ; but if Miss Douglas
had her hair blown about, so that bits and curls of it got free
from the cap or the velvet hat, and hung lightly about her
forehead or her ears or her neck, it was a greater witchery
than ever. Then everything seemed to fit her so well and
so easily, and to be so simple ; and always leaving her — how-
ever it was so managed — perfect freedom of movement, so
that she could swing a child on to her shoulder, or run
after a truant, or leap from bank to bank of a burn without
disturbing in the least that constant symmetry and neat-
ness. To Ronald it was all a wonder ; and there was a still
further wonder always seeming to accompany her and sur-
round her. Why was it that the bleakest winter day, on
these desolate Sutherland moors, suddenly grew filled with
light when he chanced to see a well-known figure away
along the road — the world changing into a joyful thing, as
if the summer were already come, and the larks singing in
the blue ? And when she spoke to him, there was a kind
of music in the air ; and when she laughed— why, Clebrig
and Ben Loyal and the whispering Mudal Water seemed
all to be listening and all to be glad that she was happy
and pleased. She was the only one, other than himself,
that the faithful Harry would follow ; and he would go with
86 WHITE HE A THER
her wherever she went, so long as she gave him an occa-
sional word of encouragement.
" Will I read you the programme, Ronald ? " said she,
with just a trace of mischief in the gray-blue eyes. " I'm
sare you ought to hear what has to be done, for you are
to be in the chair, you know."
" Me ? " said he, in astonishment. " I never tried such
a thing in my life."
" Oh yes," she said cheerfully. " They tell me you are
always at the head of the merry-makings : and is not this
a simple thing ? And besides, I do not want any other
grown people — I do not want Mr. Murray — he it a very
nice man — but he would be making jokes for the grov\'n-up
people all the time. I want nobody but you and Maggie
and myself besides the children, and we will manage it
very well, I am sure."
There was a touch of flattery in the proposal.
" Indeed, yes," said he at once. " We will manage well
enough, if ye wish it that way."
" Very well, then," said she, turning with a practical air
to the programme. " We begin with singiug Old Hundred,
and then the children will have tea and cake — and the
sixpence and the • penny. And then there is to be an
address by the Chairman — that's you, Ronald."
" Bless me, lassie ! " he was startled into saying ; and
then he stammered an apology, and sought safety in a
vehement protest against the fancy that he could make a
speech — about anything whatever.
" Well, that is strange," said Meenie looking at him, and
rather inclined to laugh at his perplexity. " It is a strange
thing if you cannot make a little speech to them ; for I
have to make one — at the end. See, there is my name."
He scarcely glanced at the programme.
" And what have you to speak about, Miss Douglas ? "
She laughed.
" About you."
" About me ? " he said, rather aghast.
" It is a vote of thanks to the Chairman — and easy enough
it will be, I am sure. For I have only to say about you
what I hear every one say about you ; and that will be
simple enough."
ENTICEMENTS 87
The open sincerity of lier friendship — and even of her
marked liking for him — was so apparent that for a second
or so he was rather bewildered. But he was not the kind
of man to misconstrue frankness ; he knew that was part
of herself ; she was too generous, too much inclined to
think well of everybody ; and the main point to which he
had to confine himself was this, that if she, out of her
good-nature, could address a few words to those children — ■
about him or any other creature or object in the world —
it certainly behoved him to do his best also, although he
had never tried anything of the kind before. And then a
sudden fancy struck him ; and his eyes brightened eagerly.
"Oh yes, yes," he said, "I will find something to say.
I would make a bad hand at a sermon ; but the bairns
have enough 0' that at times ; I dare say we'll find some-
thing for them o' another kind — and they'll no be sorry
if it's short. I'm thinking I can find something that'll
please them."
And what was this that was in his head ? — what but
the toast of the Mistress of the Feast ! If Meenie had
but known, she would doubtless have protested against the
introduction of any mutual admiration society into the
modest hamlet of Inver-Mudal ; but at that moment she
was still scanning the programme.
" Now you know, Eonald," she said, " it is to be all quiet
and private ; and that is why the grown-up people are to be
kept out except ourselves. AVell, then, after they have had
raisins handed round, you are to sing ' My love she's but a
lassie yet ' — that is a compliment to the little ones ; and
then I will read them something ; and then you are to
sing ' 0 dinna cross the burn, Willie ' — I have put down
no songs that I have not heard you sing. And then if
you would play them ' Lord Breadalbane's March ' on the
pipes "
She looked up again, with an air of apology.
" Do you think I am asking too much from you, Eonald ? "
she said.
" Indeed not a bit," said he promptly. " I will play or
sing for them all the night long, if you want ; and I'm sure
it's much better we should do it all ourselves, instead o'
having a lot o' grown-up folk to make the bairns shy."
88 WHITE HEATHER
" It is not the Chairman anyway that will make them
shy — if what they say themselves is true," said Meenie very
prettily ; and she folded up her programme and put it in
her pocket again.
She rose ; and he whistled in the dogs, as if he would
return to the village.
" I thought you were taking them for a run," said she.
" Oh, they have been scampering about ; I will go back
now."
Nor did it occur to her for a moment that she would
rather not walk back to the door of her mother's house
with him. On the contrary, if she had been able to attract
his notice when he passed, she would have gone down to
the little garden-gate, and had this conversation with him
in view of all the windows. If she wanted him to do any-
thing for her, she never thought twice about going along
to his cottage and knocking at the door ; or she would, in
the event of his not being there, go on to the inn and ask
if any one had seen Ronald about. And so on this occa-
sion she went along the road with him in much good-
humour ; praising the dogs, hoping the weather would con-
tinue fine, and altogether in high spirits over her plans for
the morrow.
However, they were not to part quite so pleasantly.
At the small garden-gate, and evidently awaiting them,
stood Mrs. Douglas ; and Eonald guessed that she was in
no very good temper. In truth, she seldom was. She
was a doll-like little woman, rather pretty, with cold clear
blue eyes, fresh-coloured cheeks, and quite silver-white hair,
which was carefully curled and braided — a pretty little old
lady, and one to be petted and made much of, if only she
had had a little more amiability of disposition. But she was
a disappointed woman. Her big good-natured husband had
never fulfilled the promise of his early years, when, in a
fit of romance, she married the penniless medical student
whom she had met in Edinburgh. He was not disap-
pointed at all ; his life suited him well enough ; he was
excessively fond of his daughter Meenie, and wanted no
other companion when she was about ; after the hard work
of making a round of professional visits in that wild district,
the quiet and comfort and neatness of the little cottage at
ENTICEMENTS 89
Inver-Mudal were all that he required. But it was far
otherwise with the once ambitious little woman whom he
had married. The shadow of the dignity of the Stuarts of
Glengask still dwelt over her ; and it vexed her that she
had nothing with which to overawe the neighbours or to
convince the passing stranger of her importance. Perhaps
if she had been of commanding figure, that might have
helped her, however poor her circumstances might be ; as
it was, being but five feet two inches in height — and rather
toy-like withal — everything seemed against her. It was
but little use her endeavouring to assume a majestic manner
when her appearance was somehow suggestive of a glass
case ; and the sharpness of her tongue, which was consider-
able, seemed to be but little heeded even in her own house,
for both her husband and her daughter were persons of an
easy good humour, and rather inclined to pet her in spite of
herself.
" Grood-morning, Mrs. Douglas," Eonald said respectfully,
and he raised his cap as they drew near.
" Good-morning, Mr. Strang," she said, with much
precision, and scarcely glancing at him.
She turned to Meenie.
" Willi am ina, how often have I told you to shut the gate
after you when you go out ? " she said sharply. " Here has
the cow been in again."
" It cannot do much harm at this time of the year,"
Meenie said lightly.
" I suppose if I ask you to shut the gate that is enough ?
Where have you been ? Idling, I suppose. Have you
written to Lady Stuart to thank her for the Birthday Book ? "
It seemed to Ronald (who wished to get away, but
could scarcely leave without some civil word of parting)
that she referred to Lady Stuart in an unmistakably clear
tone. She appeared to take no notice of Ronald's presence,
but she allowed him to hear that there was such a person as
Lady Stuart in existence.
" Why, mother, it only came yesterday, and I haven't
looked over it yet," Meenie said.
" I think when her ladyship sends you a present," observed
the little woman, with severe dignity, " the least you can
do is to write and thank her at once. There are many
go WHITE HEATHER
who would be glad of the chance. Go in and write the
letter now."
" Very well, mother," said Meenie, with perfect equa-
nimity ; and then she called " Good-moruing, Ronald ! "
and went indoors.
What was he to do to pacify this imperious little dame ?
As a gamekeeper, he knew hut the one way.
" Would a hare or two, or a brace of ptarmigan be of any
use to you, Mrs. Douglas ? " said he.
" Indeed," she answered, with much dignity, " we have
not had much game of any kind of late, for at Glengask
they do not shoot any of the deer after Christmas."
This intimation that her cousin, Sir Alexander, was the
owner of a deer-forest might have succeeded with anybody
else. But alas ! this young man was a keeper, and very
well he knew that there was no forest at all at Glengask,
though occasionally in October they might come across a
stag that had been driven forth from the herd, or they might
find two or three strayed hinds in the woods later on ; while,
if Mrs. Douglas had but even one haunch sent her in the
year — say at Christmas — he considered she got a very fair
share of whatever venison was going at Glengask. But of
course he said nothing of all this.
" Oh, very well," said he, " I'm thinking o' getting two
or three o' the lads to go up the hill for a hare-drive one
o' these days. The hares '11 be the better o' some thinning
down — on one or two o' the far tops ; and then again, when
we've got them it's no use sending them south — they're no
worth the carriage. So if ye will take a few o' them, I'm
sure you're very welcome. Good-morning, ma'am."
" Good-morning," said she, a little stiffly, and she turned
and walked towards the cottage.
As for him, he strode homeward with right goodwill ;
for Meenie's letter was in his pocket ; and he had forthwith
to make his way to Crash — jDreferring not to place any
commission of hers in alien hands. He got the dogs
kennelled up — all except the little terrier ; he slung his
telescope over his shoulder, and took a stick in his hand.
" Come along, Harry, lad, ye'll see your friends at Crash ere
dinner time, and if ye're well-behaved ye'll come home in
the waggonette along wi' the bairns."
ENTICEMENTS gi
It was a brisk and breezy morning ; the keen nortli wind
was fortunately behind him ; and soon he was swinging
along through the desolate solitudes of Strath Terry, his
footfall on the road the only sound in the universal still-
ness. And yet not the only sound, for sometimes he con-
versed with Harry, and sometimes he sent his clear tenor
voice ringing over the wide moorland, and startling here or
there a sheep, the solitary occupant of these wilds. For
no longer had he to propitiate that domineering little dame ;
and the awful shadow of Gleugask was as nothing to him ;
the American, with his unsettling notions, had departed ;
here he was at home, his own master, free iu mind, and
with the best of all companions trotting placidly at his
heels. No wonder his voice rang loud and clear and con-
tented : — •
" T/s not beneath the hurgonet.
Nor yet beneath the croiim,
'Tis not on couch of velvet.
Nor yet on bed of cloivn.
Harry, lad, do ye see that hoodie ? Was there ever such
impudence ? I could maist kill him with a stone. But
I'll come along and pay a visit to the gentleman ere the
month's much older : —
'' 'Tis beneath the spreading birch.
In the dell tvitliout a name,
Wi' a bonnie, honnie lassie,
When the Inje come hame.
What think ye o' that now ? — for we'll have to do our best
to-morrow night to please the bairns. Ah, you wise wee
deevil ! — catch you drinking out o' a puddle when ye see
any running water near.
" When the hye come hame, tvhen the hye come hame,
'Twixt the gloaming and the mirk, u'hen the hye come hame,"
iffll:
92 WHITE HEATHER
CHAPTER X.
HIGH FESTIVAL.
A children's tea-party in a Highland barn sounds a trivial
sort of affair ; and, as a spectacle, would doubtless suffer in
contrast with a fancy-dress ball in Kensington or with a
State concert at Buckingham Palace. But human nature
is the important thing, after all, no matter what the sur-
roundings may be ; and if one considers what the ordinary
life of these children was — the dull monotony of it in those
far and bleak solitudes ; their ignorance of pantomime
transformation scenes ; their lack of elaborately illustrated
fairy tales, and similar aids to the imagination enjoyed by
more fortunate young people elsewhere — it was surely an
interesting kind of project to bring these bairns away from
the homely farm or the keeper's cottage, in the depth of
mid-winter, and to march them through the blackness of a
January evening into a suddenly opening wonderland of
splendour and colour and festivity. They were not likely
to remember that this was but a barn — this beautiful place,
with its blazing candelabra, and its devices of evergreens
and great white and red roses, and the long table sump-
tuously set forth, and each guest sitting down, finding him-
self or herself a capitalist to the extent of sevenpence. And
so warm and comfortable the lofty building was ; and so
brilliant and luminous with those circles of candles ; and
the loud strains of the pipes echoing through it — giving
them a welcome just as if they were grown-up people : no
wonder they stared mostly in silence at first, and seemed
awestruck, and perhaps were in doubt whether this might
not be some Cinderella kind of feast, that they might
suddenly be snatched away from — and sent back again
through the cold and the night to the far and silent cottage
in the glen. But this feeling soon wore off ; for it was no
mystical fairy — though she seemed more beautiful and
gracious, and more richly attired than any fairy they had
ever dreamed about — who went swiftly here and there and
everywhere, arranging their seats for them, laughing and
talking with them, forgetting not one of their names, and
HIGH FESTIVAL 93
as busy and merry and high-spirited as so great an occasion
obviously demanded.
Moreover, is it not in these early years that ideals are
unconsciously being formed — from such experiences as are
nearest ? — ideals that in after-life may become standards
of conduct and aims. They had never seen any one so
gentle-mannered as this young lady who was at once their
hostess and the little mother of them all, nor any one so
dignified and yet so simple and good-humoured and kind.
They could not but observe with what marked respect
Ronald Strang (a most important person in their eyes)
treated her — insisting on her changing places with him, lest
she should be in a draught when the door was opened ;
and not allowing her to touch the teapots that came hot
and hot from the kitchen, lest she should burn her fingers ;
he pouring out the tea himself, and rather clumsily too.
And if their ideal of sweet and gracious womanhood
(supposing it to be forming in their heads) was of but a
prospective advantage, was there not something of a more
immediate value to them in thus being allowed to look on
one who was so far superior to the ordinary human creatures
they saw around them ? She formed an easy key to the
few imaginative stories they were familiar with. Cinderella,
for example : when they read how she fascinated the prince
at the ball, and won all hearts and charmed all eyes, they
could think of Miss Douglas, and eagerly understand. The
Queen of Sheba, when she came in all her splendour : how
were these shepherds' and keepers' and crofters' children
to form any notion of her appearance but by regarding
Miss Douglas in this beautiful and graceful attire of hers ?
In point of fact, her gown was but of plain black silk ; but
there was something about the manner of her wearing it
that had an indefinable charm ; and then she had a sin-
gularly neat collar and a pretty ribbon round her neck ; and
there were slender silver things gleaming at her wrists from
time to time. Indeed, there was no saying for how many
heroines of history or fiction Miss Meenie Douglas had
unconsciously to herself to do duty — in the solitary com-
munings of a summer day's herding, or during the dreary
hours in which these hapless little people were shut up in
some small, close, overcrowded parish church, supposing
94 WHITE HE A THER
that they lived anywhere withui half a dozen miles of such
a building : now she would be Joan of Arc, or perhaps
Queen Esther that was so surpassing beautiful, or Lord
Ullin's daughter that was drowned within sight of XJIva's
shores. And was it not sufficiently strange that the same
magical creature, who represented to them everything that
was noble and beautiful and refined and queen-like, should
now be moving about amongst them, cutting cake for them,
laughing, joking, patting this one or that on the shoulder,
and apparently quite delighted to wait on them and serve
them ?
The introductory singing of the Old Hundredth Psalm
was, it must be confessed, a failure. The large majority of
the children present had never either heard or seen a piano ;
and when Meenie went to that strange-looking instrument
(it had been brought over from her mother's cottage with
considerable difficulty), and when she sate down and struck
the first deep resounding chords — and when Ronald, at his
end of the table, led off the singing with his powerful
tenor voice — they wore far too much interested and awe-
struck to follow. Meenie sang, in her quiet clear way, and
Maggie timidly joined in, but the children were silent.
However, as has already been said, the restraint that was at
first pretty obvious very soon wore off ; the tea and cake
were consumed amid much general hilarity and satisfaction ;
and when in due course the Chairman rose to deliver his
address, and when Miss Douglas tapped on the table to
secure attention, and also by way of applause, several of
the elder ones had quite enough courage and knowledge of
affairs to follow her example, so that the speaker may be
said to have been received with favour.
And if there were any wise ones there, whose experience
had taught them that tea and cake were but a snare to
entrap innocent people into being lectured and sermonised,
they were speedily reassured. The Chairman's address
was mostly alDOut starlings and jays and rabbits and ferrets
and squirrels ; and about the various ways of taming these,
and teaching them ; and of his own various successes and
failures when he was a boy. He had to apologise at the
outset for not speaking in the Gaelic ; for he said that if he
tried they would soon be laughing at him ; he would nave
HIGH FESTIVAL 95
to speak in English ; bnt if he mentioned any bird or beast
wliose name they did not understand, they were to ask hiin,
and he would tell them the Gaelic name. And very soon
it was clear enough that this was no lectm'e on the wander-
ings of the children of Israel, nor yet a sermon on justifica-
tion by faith ; the eager eyes of the boys followed every
detail of the capture of the nest of youug osprcys ; the girls
were like to cry over the untimely fate of a certain tame
sparrow that had strayed within the reach — or the spring
rather — of an alien cat ; and general laughter greeted the
history of the continued and uncalled-for mischiefs and evil
deeds of one Peter, a squirrel but half reclaimed from its
savage ways, that had cost the youthful naturalist much
anxiety and vexation, and also not a little blood. There
was, moreover, a dark and wild story of revenge — on an ill-
conditioned cur that was the terror of the whole village, and
was for ever snapping at girls' ankles and boys' legs — a
most improper and immoral story to be told to young
folks, though the boys seemed to think the ill-tempered
beast got no more than it deserved. That small village, by
the way, down there in the Lothians, seemed to have been
a very remarkable place ; the scene of the strangest exploits
and performances on the part of terriers, donkeys, pet
kittens, and tame jackdaws ; haunted by curious folk, too,
who knew all about bogles and kelpies and such uncanny
creatures, and had had the most remarkable experiences of
them (though modern science was allowed to come in here
for a little bit, with its cold-blooded explanations of the
supernatural). And when, to finish up this discursive and
apparently aimless address, he remarked that the only thing-
lacking in that village where he had been brought up, and
where he had observed all these incidents and wonders,
was the presence of a kind-hearted and generous young
lady, who, on an occasion, would undertake all the trouble
of gathering together the children for miles around, and
would do everything she could to make them perfectly
happy, they knew perfectly well whom he meant ; and when
he said, in conclusion, that if they knew of any such an one
about here, in Inver-Mudal, and if they thought that she
had been kind to them, and if they wished to show her that
they were grateful to her for her goodness, they could not
96 WHITE HE A THER
do better than give her three loud cheers, the lecture came
to an end in a perfect storm of applause ; and Meenie —
blushing a little, and yet laughing — had to get up and say
that she was responsible for the keeping of order by this
assembly, and would allow no speech-making and no cheer-
ing that was not put down in the programme.
After this there was a service of raisins ; and in the
general quiet that followed Mr. Murray came into the room,
just to see how things were going on. Now the innkeeper
considered himseK to be a man of a humorous turn ; and
when he went up to shake hands with Miss Douglas, and
looked down the long table, and saw Ronald presiding at
the other end, and her presiding at this, and all the children
sitting so sedately there, he remarked to her in his waggish
way—
"Well, now, for a young married couple, you have a
very large family."
But Miss Douglas was not a self-conscious young person,
nor easily alarmed, and she merely laughed and said —
" I am sure they are a very well-behaved family indeed."
But Eonald, who had not heard the jocose remark, by
the way, objected to any one coming in to claim Miss
Douglas's attention on so important an occasion ; and in
his capacity of Chairman he rose and rapped loudly on the
table.
" Ladies and gentlemen," he said, " we're not going to
have any idlers here the night. Any one that bides with
us must do something. I call on Mr. Murray to sing his
well-known song, ' Bonnie Peggie, 0.' "
"Indeed no, indeed no," the innkeeper said, instantly
retreating to the door. " There iss too many good judges
here the night. I'll leave you to yourselfs ; but if there's
anything in the inn you would like sent over, do not be
afraid to ask for it, Ronald. And the rooms for the children
are all ready, and the beds ; and we'll make them very
comfortable, Miss Douglas, be sure of that now."
" It's ower soon to talk about beds yet," Ronald said,
when the innkeeper had gone ; and he drove home the
wooden bolt of the door, so that no other interloper should
get in. Meenie had said she wanted no outsiders present ;
that was enough.
HIGH FESTIVAL 97
And then they set about getting through the programme
— the details of which need not be repeated here. Song
followed song ; when there was any pause Meenie played
simple airs on the piano ; for " The Cameronian's Dream,"
when it came to her turn to read them something, she sub-
stituted " The Pied Piper of Hamelin," which was listened
to with breathless interest. Even the little Maggie did her
part in the " Huntingtower " duet very creditably — fortified
by the knowledge that there were no critics present. And
as for the children, they had become quite convinced that
there was to be no sermon ; and that they were not to be
catechised about their lessons, nor examined as to the
reasons annexed to the Fourth Commandment ; all care
was gone from them ; for the moment life was nothing but
shortbread and raisins and singing, with admiration of Miss
Douglas's beautiful hair and beautiful kind eyes and soft
and laughing voice.
And then, as the evening wore on, it became time to
send these young people to the beds that had been prepared
for them ab the inn ; and of course they could not break
up without singing " Auld Lang Syne " — Meenie officiating
at the piano, and all the others standing up and joining
hands. And then she had to come back to the table to
propose a vote of thanks to the Chairman. Well, she
was not much abashed. Perhaps there was a little extra
colour in her face at the beginning ; and she said she had
never tried to make a speech before ; and, indeed, that now
there was no occasion, for that all of them knew Eonald
(so she called him, quite naturally), and knew that he was
always willing to do a kindness when he was asked. And
she said that he had done a great deal, more than had been
originally begged of him ; and they ought all of them,
including herself, to be very grateful to him ; and if they
wished to give him a unanimous vote of thanks, they were
all to hold up their right hand — as she did. So that vote
was carried ; and Eonald said a few words in reply — mostly
about Miss Douglas, in truth, and also telling them to whom
they were indebted for the money found in each saucer.
Then came the business of finding wraps for them and
muffling them up ere they went out into the January night
(though many a one there was all unused to such precau-
98 WHITE HE A J HER
tions, and wondered that Miss Donglas should be so care-
ful of them),'while Ronald, up at the head of the room, was
playing them a parting salute on the pipes — Caidil gu Jo it
was, which means " Sleep on till day." Finally, when
Maggie and Meenie were ushering their small charges
through the darkness to the back-door of the inn, he found
himself alone ; and, before putting out the candles and fasten-
ing up, he thought he might as well have a smoke — for that
solace had been denied him during the long evening.
Well, he was staring absently into the mass of smoulder-
ing peats, and thinking mostly of the sound of Meenie's
voice as he had heard it when she sang with the children
" Whither, pilgrims, are you going ? " wdien he heard foot-
steps behind him, and turning found that both Meenie
and Maggie had come back.
" Ronald," said Meenie, with her pretty eyes smiling at
him, " do you know that Maggie and I are rather tired "
" Well, I dinna wonder," said he.
" Yes, and both of us very hungry too. And I am sure
there will be no supper waiting for either Maggie or me
when we go home ; and do you think you could get us
some little thing now ? "
" Here ? " said he, with his face lighting up with pleasure :
were those three to have supper all by themselves ?
" Oh yes," said she, in her friendly way. " I am not sure
that my mother woiild like me to stay at the inn for supper ;
but this is our own place ; and the table laid ; and Maggie
and I would rather bo here, I am sure. And you — are
you not hungry too — after so long a time — I am sure you
want something besides raisins and shortbread. But if it
will be any trouble "
"Trouble or no trouble," said he quickly, "has nothing
to do wi't. Here, Maggie, lass, clear the end of the table ;
and we'll soon get some supper for ye."
And away he went to the inn, summoning the lasses
there, and driving and hurrying them until they had
arranged upon a large tray a very presentable supper — ■
some cold beef, and ham, and cheese, and bread, and ale ;
and when the fair-haired Nelly was ready to start forth with
this burden, he lit a candle and walked before her through
the darkness, lest she should miss her footing. And very
HIGH FESTIVAL 99
demure was Nelly when she placed this supper on the table ;
there was not even a look for the smart young keeper ; and
when Meenie said to her —
" I hear, Nelly, you had great goings-on on Monday
night " — she only answered — " Oh yes, miss, there was that "
— and could not be drawn into conversation, but left the
moment she had everything arranged.
But curiously enough, when the two girls had taken
their seats at this little cross table, Ronald remained
standing — just behind them, indeed, as if he were a waiter.
And would Miss Douglas have this ? and would Miss
Douglas have that ? he suggested — mostly to cloak his
shamefacedness ; for indeed that first wild assumption that
they were all to have supper together was banished now as
an impertinence. He would wait on them, and gladly ;
but — but his own supper would come after.
" And what will you have yourself, Ronald ? " Meenie
asked.
" Oh," said he, " that will do by and by. I am not so
hungry as you."
" Did you have so much of the shortbread ? " said she,
laughing.
He went and stirred up the peats — and the red glow
sent a genial warmth across towards them,
" Come, Ronald," said the little Maggie, " and have some
supper."
" There is no hurry," he said evasively. " I think I will
go outside and have a pipe now ; and get something by
and by."
" I am sure," said Meenie saucily, " that it is no compli-
ment to us that you would rather go away and smoke. See,
now, if we cannot tempt you."
And therewith, with her own pretty fingers, she made
ready his place at the table ; and put the knife and fork
properly beside the plate ; and helped him to a slice of beef
and a slice of ham ; and poured some ale into his tumbler.
Not only that, but she made a little movement of arranging
her dress which was so obviously an invitation that he
should there and then take a place by her, that it was not
in mortal man to resist ; though, indeed, after sitting down,
he seemed to devote all his attention to looking after his
H 2
loo WHITE HEATHER
companions. And very soon any small embarrassment was
entirely gone ; Mecnie was in an unusually gay and merry
mood — for she was pleased that her party had been so
obviously a success, and all her responsibilities over. And
this vivacity gave a new beauty to her face ; her eyes seemed
more kind than ever ; when she laughed, it was a sweet
low laugh, like the cooing of pigeons on a summer after-
noon.
" And what are you thinking of, Maggie ? " she said,
suddenly turning to the little girl, who had grown rather
silent amid this talking and joking.
"• I was wishing this could go on for ever," was the simple
answer.
" What ? A perpetual supper ? Oh, you greedy girl !
Why, you must be looking forward to the Scandinavian
heaven "
" No, it's to be with Ronald and you, Meenie dear —
just like now — for you seem to be able to keep everybody
happy."
Miss Douglas did blush a little at this ; but it was an
honest compliment, and it was soon forgotten. And then,
when they had finished supper, she said —
" Eonald, do yoii know that I have never played an
accompaniment to one of your songs ? Would you not
like to hear how it sounds ? "
" But — but I'm not used to it — I should be putting you
wrong "
" No, no ; I'm sure we will manage. Come along," she
said briskly, " There is that one I heard you sing the other
day — I heard you, though you did not see me—' Gae bring
to me a pint o' wine, and fill it in a silver tassie ; that I
may drink, before I go, a service to my bonnie lassie ' — and
very proud she was, I suppose. Well, now, we will try
that one."
So they went to the other end of the barn, where the
piano was ; and there was a good deal of singing there, and
laughing and joking — among this little party of three.
And Meenie sang too — on condition (woman-like) that
Ronald would light his pipe. Little Maggie scarcely knew
which to admire the more — this beautiful and graceful
young lady, who was so complaisant and friendly and kind,
A REVELATION loi
0
or her own brother, who was so handsome and manly and
modest, and yet could do everything in the world. Nor
could there have been any sinister doubt in that wish of hers
that these three should always be together as they were
then ; how was she to know that this was the last evening
on which Meenie Douglas and Eonald were to meet on
these all too friendly terms ?
CHAPTER XL
A REVELATION.
Eaely the next morning, when as yet the sunrise was still
widening up and over the loch, and the faint tinge of red
had not quite left the higher slopes of Clebrig, Eonald had
akeady finished his breakfast, and was in his own small
room, smoking the customary pipe, and idly — and with
some curious kind of whimsical amusement in his brain —
turning over the loose sheets of scribbled verses. And that
was a very ethereal and imaginary Meenie he found there —
a Meenie of lonely hillside wanderings — a Meenie of day-
dreams and visions : not the actual, light-hearted, shrewd-
headed Meenie of the evening before, who was so merry
after the children had gone, and so content with the little
supper-party of three, and would have him smoke his pipe
without regard to her pretty silk dress. This Meenie on
paper was rather a wistful, visionary, distant creature ; whereas
the Meenie of the previous evening was altogether good-
humoured and laughing, with the quaintest mother- ways in
the management of the children, and always a light of kind-
ness shining in her clear Highland eyes. He would have
to write something to portray Meenie (to himself) in this
more friendly and actual character. He could do it easily
enough, he knew. There never was any lack of rhymes
when Meenie was the occasion. At other things he had to
labour — frequently, indeed, until, reilecting that this was
not his business, he would fling the scrawl hito the fire, and
drive it into the peats with his heel, and go away with much
content. But wheui Meenie was in his head, everything
came readily enough ; all the world around seemed full of
beautiful things to compare with her ; the birds were singing
I02 WHITE HEATHER
of her ; the mountains were there to guard he© ; the burn,
as it whispered through the rushes, or danced over the open
bed of pebbles, had but the one continual murmur of
Meenie's name. Yerses ? he could have written them by
the score — and laughed at them, and burned them, too.
Suddenly the little Maggie appeared.
" Ronald," she said, " the Doctor's come home."
" What — at this time in the morning ? " he said turning
to her.
" Yes, I am sure ; for I can see the dog-cart at the door
of the inn."
" Well now," said he, hastily snatching up his cap, " that
is a stroke of luck — if he will come with us. I will go
and meet him."
But he need not have hurried so much ; the dog-cart
was still at the door of the inn when he went out ; and
indeed remained there as he made his way along the road.
The Doctor, who was a most sociable person, had stopped
for a moment to hear the news ; but Mr. Murray happened
to be there, and so the chat was a protracted one. In the
meantime Ronald's long swinging stride soon brought him
into their neighbom'hood.
" Good-morning, Doctor ! " he cried.
" Good-morning, Ronald," said the other, turning round.
He was a big man, somewhat corpulent, with an honest,
wholesome, ruddy face, soft brown eyes, and an expressive
mouth, that could temper his very apparent good-natm'e
with a little mild sarcasm.
" You've come back in the nick of time," the keeper
said — for well he knew the Doctor's keen love of a gun.
" I'm thinking of driving some of the far tops the day, to
thin down the hares a bit ; and I'm sure ye'd be glad to
lend us a hand."
" Man, I was going home to my bed, to tell ye the truth,"
said the Doctor ; " it's very little sleep I've had the last ten
days."
" What is the use of that ? " said Ronald, " there's aye
plenty o' time for sleep in the winter."
And then the heavy-framed occupant of the dog-cart
glanced up at the far-reaching heights of Clebrig, and there
was a grim smile on his mouth.
A REVELATION 103
" It's all very well," said he, " for herring-stomached yoiiug
fellows like you to face a hill like that ; but I've got weight
to carry, man ; and "
" Come, come. Doctor ; it's not the first time you've been
on Clebrig," Eonald said — ho could see that Meenie's father
wanted to be persuaded. " Besides, we'll no try the highest
tops up there — there's been too much snow. And I'll tell
ye how we'll make it easy for ye ; we'll row ye down the
loch and begin at the other end and work home — there, it's
a fair offer,"
It was an offer, at all events, that the big doctor could
not withstand.
" Well, well," said he, " I'll just drive the dog-cart along
and see how they are at home ; and then if the wife let's
me out 0' her clutches, I'll come down to the loch side as
fast as I can."
Eonald turned to one of the stable-lads (all of whom were
transformed into beaters on this occasion).
" Jimmy, just run over to the house and fetch my gun ;
and bid Maggie put twenty cartridges — number 4, she
knows where they arc — into the bag ; and then ye can
take the gun and the cartridge-bag down to the boat— and
be giving her a bale-out till I come along. I'm going to
the farm now, to get two more lads if I can ; tell the
Doctor I'll no be long after him, if he gets down to the loch
first."
Some quarter of an hour thereafter they set forth ; and
a rough pull it was down the loch, for the wind was blow-
ing hard, and the waves were coming broadside on. Those
who were at the oars had decidedly the best of it, for it
was bitterly cold ; but even the others did not seem to
mind much — they were chiefly occupied in scanning the
sky-line of the hills (a habit that one naturally falls into in
a deer country), while Eonald and the Doctor, seated in
the stern, were mostly concerned about keeping their guns
dry. In due course of time they landed, made their way
through a wood of young birch-trees, followed the channel
of a burn for a space, and by and by began to reach the
upper slopes, where the plans for the first drive were care-
fully drawn out and explained.
Now it is unnecessary to enter into details of the day's
104 WHITE HEATHER
achievements, for they were neither exciting nor difficult
nor daring. It was clearly a case of shooting for the pot ;
although Ronald, in his capacity of keeper, was anxious to
have the hares thinned down, knowing well enough that
the over-multiplying of them was as certain to bring in
disease as the overstocking of a mountain farm with sheep.
But it may be said that the sport, such as it was, was done
in a workmanlike manner. In Ronald's case, each cartridge
meant a hare — and no praise to him, for it was his business.
As for the Doctor, he was not only an excellent shot, but
he exercised a wise and humane discretion as well. No-
thing would induce him to fire at long range on the off-
chance of hitting ; and this is all the more laudable in the
shooting of mountain hares, for these, when wounded, will
frequently dodge into a hole among the rocks, like a rabbit,
bafl&ing dogs and men, and dying a miserable death. More-
over, there was no need to take risky shots. The two guns
were posted behind a stone or small hillock — lying at full
length on the ground, only their brown-capped heads and
the long barrels being visible. Then the faint cries in the
distance became somewhat louder — with sticks rattled on
rocks, and stones flung here and there ; presently, on the
sky-line of the plq,teau, a small object appeared, sitting
upright and dark against the sky ; then it came shambling
leisurely along — becoming bigger and bigger and whiter
and whiter every moment, until at length it showed itself
almost like a cat, but not running stealthily like a cat,
rather hopping forward on its ungainly high haunches ; and
then again it would stop and sit up, its ears thrown back,
its eyes not looking at anything in front of it, its snow-
white body, with here and there a touch of bluish-brown,
offering a tempting target for a pea-rifle. But by this time,
of course, numerous others had come hopping over the sky-
line ; and now as the loud yells and shouts and striking of
stones were close at hand, there was more swift running
instead of hobbling and pausing among the white friglitened
creatures ; and as they cared for nothing in front (in fact
a driven hare cannot see anything that is right ahead of it,
and will run against your boots if you happen to be stand-
ing in the way), but sped noiselessly across the withered
grass and hard clumps of heather — bang I went the first
A REVELATION 105
barrel, and then another and another, as quick as fingers
could unload and reload, until here, there, and everywhere
— but always within a certain radius from the respective
posts — a white object lay on the hard and wintry ground.
The beaters came up to gather them together ; the two
guns liad risen from their cold quarters ; there were found
to be thirteen hares all told — a quite sufficient number for
this part — and not one had crawled or hobbled away
wounded.
But we will now descend for a time from these bleak
altitudes and retmrn to the little hamlet — which seemed to
lie there snugly enough and sheltered in the hollow, though
the wind was hard on the dark and driven loch. Some
hour or so after the shooters and beaters had left, Meenie
Douglas came along to Eonald's cottage, and, of course,
found Maggie the sole occupant, as she had expected. She
was very bright and cheerful and friendly, and spoke warmly
of Eonald's kindness in giving her father a day's shooting.
" My mother was a little angry," she said, laughing, " that
he should go away just the first thing after coming home ;
but you know, Maggie, he is so fond of shooting ; and it is
not always he can get a day, especially at this time of the
year ; and I am very glad he has gone ; for you know there
are very few who have to work so hard."
" I wish they may come upon a stag," said the little
Maggie — with reckless and irresponsible generosity.
" Do you know, Maggie," said the elder young lady,
with a shrewd smile on her face, " I am not sm-e that my
mother likes the people about here to be so kind ; she is
always expecting my father to get a better post — but I know
he is not likely to get one that will suit him as well with
the fishing and shooting. There is the Mudal— the gentle-
men at the lodge let him have that all the spring through ;
and when the loch is not let, he can always have a day by
writing to Mr. Crawford ; and here is Ronald, when the
hinds have to be shot at Christmas, and so on. And if
the American gentleman takes the shooting as well as the
loch, surely he will ask my father to go with him a day or
two on the hill ; it is a lonely thing shooting by one's self.
Well now, Maggie, did you put the curtains up again in
Ronald's room ? "
io6 WHITE HEATHER
" Yes, I did," was the answer, " and he did not tear them
down this time, for I told him you showed me how to hang
them ; but he has tied them back so tliat they might just
as well not be there at all. Come and see, Meenie dear."
She led the way into her brother's room ; and there,
sure enough, the window-curtains (which were wholly un-
necessary, by the way, except from the feminine point of
view, for there was certainly not too much light coming
in by the solitary window) had been tightly looped and
tied back, so that the view down the loch should be un-
impeded.
" No matter," said Meenie ; " the window is not so bare-
looking as it used to be. And I suppose he will let them
remain up now."
" Oh yes, when he was told that you had something to
do with them," was the simple answer.
Meenie went to the wooden mantelpiece, and put the
few things there straight, just as she would have done in
her own room, blowing the light white peat-dust off them,
and arranging them in neater order.
" I wonder, now," she said, " he does not get frames for
these photographs ; they wiU be spoiled by finger marks
and the dust."
Maggie said shyly —
" That was what he said to me the other day — but not
about these — about the one you gave me of yourself. He
asked to see it, and I showed him how careful I was in
wrapping it up ; but he said no — the first packman that
came through I was to get a frame if he had one, and
glass too ; or else that he would send it in to Inverness to
be framed. But you know, Meenie, it's not near so nice-
looking — or anything, anything like so nice-looking — as
you are."
" Nothing could be that, I am sure," said Meenie lightly ;
and she was casting her eyes about the room, to see what
further improvements she could suggest.
But Maggie had growm suddenly silent, and was stand-
ing at the little writing-table, apparently transfixed with
astonishment. It will be remembered that when Eonald,
in the morning, heard that the Doctor was at the door of
the inn, he had hurriedly hastened away to intercept him ;
A REVELATION 107
and that, subseqneutly, in order to same time, he had sent
back a lad for his gun and cartridges, while he went on to
the farm. Now it was this last arrangement that caused
him to overlook the fact that he had left his writing-
materials — the blotting-pad and everything — lying exposed
on the table ; a piece of neglect of which he had scarcely
ever before been guilty. And as ill-luck would have it, as
Maggie was idly wandering round the room, waiting for
Meenie to make any further suggestions for the smartening
of it, what must she see lying before her, among these
papers, but a letter, boldly and conspicuously addressed ?
" Well ! " she exclaimed, as she took it up. " Meenie,
here is a letter for you ! why didna he send it along to
you ? "
" A letter for me ? " Meenie said, with a little surprise.
" No ! why should Ronald write a letter to me ? — I see him
about every day."
" But look ! "
Meenie took the letter in her hand ; and regarded the
address ; and laughed.
"It is very formal," said she. "There is no mistake
about it. ^ Miss] Wilhelmina Stuart Douglas''- — when was I
ever called that before ? And ' Inver-Mudal, Sutherland-
shire, N.B.'' He should have added Europe, as if he was
sending it from the moon. "Well, it is clearly meant for
me, any way — oh, and open too "
The next minute all the careless amusement fled from
her face ; her cheeks grew very white, and a frightened,
startled look sprang to her eyes. She but caught the first
few lines—
" 0 wilt thou he my dear love ?
{Meenie and Meenie^
0 ivilt thou he my ain love?
{My eiceet Meenie)"
and then it was with a kind of shiver that her glance ran
over the rest of it ; and her heart was beating so that she
could not speak ; and there was a mist before her eyes.
"Maggie," she managed to say at length — and she
hurriedly folded up the paper again and placed it on the
table with the others — " I should not have read it — it was
io8 WHITE HE A THER
not meant for me — it was not meant that I should read it
— come away, come away, Maggie."
She took the younger girl out of the room, and herself
shut the door, firmly, although her fingers were all trembling.
"Maggie," she said, "you must promise never to tell
any one that you gave me that letter — ^that I saw it "
" But what is the matter, Meenie ? " the smaller girl
said in bewilderment, for she could see by the strange
half -frightened look of Miss Douglas's face that something
serious had happened.
" AVell, it is nothing — it is nothing," she forced herself to
say. " It will be all right. I shouldn't have read the letter
■ — it was not meant for me to see — but if you say nothing
about it, no harm will be done. That's all ; that's all.
And now I am going to see if the children are ready that
are to go by the mail-car."
" But I will go with you, Meenie."
Then the girl seemed to recollect herself ; and she
glanced round at the interior of the cottage, and at the
little girl, with an unusual kind of look.
" No, no, not this morning, Maggie," she said. " You
have plenty to do. Good-bye — good-bye ! " and she stooped
and kissed her, and patted her on the shoulder, and left,
seeming anxious to get away and be by herself.
Maggie remained there in considerable astonishment.
What had happened ? "Why should she not go to help with
the children ? and why good-bye — when Meenie would be
coming along the road in less than an hour, as soon as the
mail-car had left ? And all about the reading of something
contained in that folded sheet of paper. However, the
little girl wisely resolved that, whatever was in that letter,
she would not seek to know it, nor would she speak of it
to any one, since Meenie seemed so anxious on that point ;
and so she set about her domestic duties again — looking
forward to the end of these and the resumption of her
knitting of her brother's jersey.
AVell, the winter's day went by, and they had done good
work on the hill. As the dusk of the afternoon began to
creep over the heavens, they set out for the lower slopes on
their way home ; and very heavily weighted the lads were
with the white creatures skmg over their backs on sticks.
A REVELATION 109
But the dusk was not the worst part of this descent ; the
wind was now driving over heavy clouds from the north ;
and again and again they would be completely enveloped,
and unable to see anywhere more than a yard from their
feet. In these circumstances Eonald took the lead ; the
Doctor coming next, and following, indeed, more by sound
than by sight ; the lads bringing up in the wake in solitary
file, with their heavy loads thumping on their backs. It
was a ghostly kind of procession ; though now and again
the close veil around them would be rent in twain, and they
would have a glimpse of something afar off — perhaps a spur
of Ben Loyal, or the dark waters of Loch Meidie studded
with its small islands. Long before they had reached
Inver-Mudal black night had fallen ; but now they were
on easier ground ; and at last the firm footing of the road
echoed to their measured tramp, as the invisible company
inarched on and down to the warmth and welcome lights of
the inn.
The Doctor, feeling himself something of a truant, went
on direct to his cottage ; but the others entered the inn ;
and as Bonald forthwith presented Mrs. IMurray with half
a dozen of the hares, the landlord was right willing to call
for ale for the beaters, who liad had a hard day's work.
Nor was Eonald in a hurry to get home ; for he heard that
Maggie was awaiting him in the kitchen ; and so he and
Mr. Murray had a pipe and a chat together, as was their
custom. Then he sent for his sister.
" Well, Maggie, lass," said he, as they set out through
the dark, " did you see all the bairns safely off this morn-
ing ? "
" No, Ronald," she said, " Meenic did not seem to want
me ; so I stayed at home."
" And did you find Harry sufficient company for ye ?
But I suppose Miss Douglas came and stayed with ye for
a while."
" No, Ronald," said the little girl, in a tone of some
surprise ; " she has not been near the house the whole day,
since the few minutes in the morning."
" Oh," said he, lightly, " she may have been busy, now
her father is come home. And ye maun try and get on wi'
your lessons as well as ye can, lass, without bothering Miss
no WHITE HEATHER
Douglas too much ; she canna always spend so much time
with ye."
The little girl was silent. She was thinking of that
strange occurrence in the morning of which she was not to
speak ; and in a vague kind of way she could not but
associate that with Meenie's absence all that day, and also
with the unusual tone of her "good-bye." But yet, if
there were any trouble, it would speedily pass away. Eonald
would put everything right. Nobody could withstand him
— that was the first and last article of her creed. And so,
when they got home, she proceeded cheerfully enough to
stir up the peats, and to cook their joint supper in a manner
really skilful for one of her years ; and she laid the cloth ;
and i^ut the candles on the table ; and had the tea and
everything ready. Then they sate down ; and Eonald was
in very good spirits, and talked to her, and tried to amuse
her. But the little Maggie rather wistfully looked back to
the brilHant evening before, when Meenie was with them ;
and perhaps wondered whether there would ever again be a
supper-party as joyful and friendly and happy as they three
had been when they were all by themselves in the big gaily-
lit barn.
CHAPTEE XII.
"when shadows fall."
The deershed adjoining the kennels was a gloomy place,
with its bare walls, its lack of light, and its ominous-looking
crossbeams, ropes, and pulley for hanging up the slain deer ;
and the morning was dark and lowering, with a bitter wind
howling along the glen, and sometimes bringing with it a
sharp smurr of sleet from the northern hills. But these
things did not seem to alfect Eonald's spirits nracli as he
stood there, in his shirt-sleeves, and bare-headed, sorting
out the hares that were lying on the floor, and determining
to whom and to whom such and such a brace or couple of
brace should be sent. Four of the plumpest he had already
selected for Mrs. Douglas (in the vague hope that the useful
present might make her a little more placable), and he was
going on with his choosing and setting aside — sometimes
lighting a pipe — sometimes singing carelessly —
" WHEN SHA DOWS FALL'' in
" 0 v^e aft liae met at e'en, honnie Peggie, 0,
On the banks d" Cart sae green, honnie Peggie, 0,
Mliere the loafers smoothly rin,
Far aneath the roariii' linn.
Far frae busy strife and din, bonnie Peggie, 0 " —
■when the httle Maggie came stealing in.
" Ronald," she said, with an air of reproach, " why are ye
going about on such a morning without your jacket, and
bare-headed, too ? "
" Toots, toots, lassie, it's a fine morning," said he in-
differently.
" It was Meenie said I was not to let you do such foolish
things," the little lass ventured to say diffidently.
Of course this put a new aspect on the case, but he would
not admit as much directly.
" Oh, well," said he, " if you bring me out my coat and
bonnet I will put them on, for I'm going down to the
Doctor's with two or three of the hares."
■ And then she hesitated.
" Eonald," said she, " I will take them to Mrs. Douglas,
if you like."
" You ? " said he.
" FoT I would give them to her with a nice message from
you ; and — and — if you take them, you will say nothing at
all ; and where is the compliment ? "
He laughed.
" Ye 're a wise little lass ; but four big hares are heavy to
carry — with the wind against ye ; so run away and get me
my coat and my Glengarry ; and I will take them along
myself, compliment or no compliment."
However, as it turned out, Mrs. Donglas was not the
first of the family he w^as fated to meet that morning. He
had scarcely left the deershed when he i:)erccivcd Meenie
coming along the road ; and this was an auspicious and
kindly event ; for somehow the day seemed to go by more
smoothly and evenly and contentedly when he had chanced
to meet Meenie in the morning, and have a few minutes'
chat with her about affairs in general, and an assurance that
all was going well with her. So he went forward to meet
her with a light heart ^ and he thought she would be
pleased that he was taking the hares to her mother ; and
1 1 2 WHITE HE A THER
perhaps, too, he considered that they might be a little more
frank in their friendship after the exceeding good fellow-
ship of the night of the children's party.
He went forward unsuspectingly.
" Good-morning, Miss Douglas ! " said he, slackening in
his pace, for naturally they always stopped for a few seconds
or minutes when they met thus.
But to his astonishment Miss Douglas did not seem
inclined to stay. Her eyes were bent on the ground as she
came along ; she but timidly half lifted them as she reached
him ; and " Good-morning, Ronald ! " she said, and would
have passed on. And then it seemed as if, in her great
embarrassment, she did not know what to do. She stopped ;
her face was suffused with red ; and she said hurriedly — ■
and yet with an effort to appear unconcerned —
" I suppose Maggie is at home ? "
" Oh yes," said he, and her manner was so changed tliat
he also scarce knew what to say or to think.
And again she was going on, and again she lingered —
with a sudden fear that she might be thought ungracious
or unkind.
" The children all got away safely yesterday morning,"
said she — but her eyes never met his ; and there was still
tell-tale colour in her cheeks.
" So I heard," he answered.
"I am sure they must have enjoyed the evening," she
said, as if forcing herself to speak.
And then it suddenly occurred to him — for this encounter
had been all too brief and bewildering for any proper under-
standing of it — that perhaps her mother had been reproving
her for being too friendly with the people about the inn
and with himself, and that he was only causing her embar-
rassment by detaining her, and so he said —
" Oh yes, I'm sure o' that. Well, good-morning, Miss
Douglas ; I'm going along to give your mother these two
or three hares."
" Good-morning," said she — still without looking at him
— and then she went.
And he, too, went on his way ; but only for a brief
space ; presently he sate down on the low stone 'dyke by
the roadside, and dropped the hares on the ground at his
« WHEN SHADO WS FALL'' 113
feet. What could it all mean ? She seemed anxious to
limit their acquaintanceship to the merest formalities ; and
yet to be in a manner sorry for having to do so. Had he
unwittingly given her some cause of olYcnce ? He began
to recall the minutest occurrences of the night of the
children's party — wondering if something had then happened
to account for so marked a change ? But he could think
of nothing. The supper-party of three was of her own
suggestion ; she could not be angry on that account.
Perhaps he ought to have asked this person or that person
over from the inn to join them, for the sake of propriety ?
Well, he did not know much about such matters ; it seemed
to him that they were very happy as they were ; and that
it was nobody else's business. But would she quarrel with
him on that account ? Or on account of his smoking in
her presence ? Again and again he wished that his pipe
had been buried at the bottom of the loch ; and indeed his
smoking of it that evening had given him no enjoyment
whatever, except in so far as it seemed to please her ; but
surely, in any case, that was a trifle ? Meenie would not
suddenly become cold and distant (in however reluctant a
way) for a small matter like that ? Nor could she be angry
Avith him for taking her father away for a day on the hill ;
she was always glad when the Doctor got a day's shooting
from anybody. No ; the only possible conclusion he could
come to was that J\Irs. Douglas had more strongly than
ever disapproved of Meenie's forming friendships among
people not of her own station in life ; and that some
definite instructions had been given, which the girl was
anxious to obey. And if that were so, ought he to make
it any the more difficult for her ? He would be as reserved
and distant as she pleased. Ho knew that she was a very
kindly and sensitive creature ; and might dread giving pain ;
and herself suffer a good deal more than those from whom
she was in a measure called upon to separate herself. That
was a reason why it should be made easy for her ; and ho
would ask Maggie to get on with her lessons by herself, as
much as she could ; and when he met Miss Douglas on the
road, his greeting of her would be of the briefest— and yet
with as much kindness as she chose to accept in a word or
a look. And if he might not present her with the polecat's
I
114 WHITE HEATHER
skin that was now just about dressed ? — well, perhaps the
American gentleman's daughter would take it, and have it
made into something, when she came up in March.
The pretty, little, doll-like woman, with the cold eyes
and the haughty stare, was at the front-door of the cottage,
scattering food to the fowls.
" I have brought ye two or three hares, Mrs. Douglas, if
they're of any use to ye," Ronald said modestly.
" Thank you," said she, with lofty courtesy, " thank you ;
I am much obliged. Will you step in and sit down for a
few minutes ? — -I am sure a little spirits will do you no
harm on such a cold morning."
In ordinary circumstances he would have declined that
invitation ; for he had no great love of this domineering
little woman, and much preferred the society of her big,
good-natured husband ; but he was curious about Meenie,
and even inclined to be resentful, if it appeared that she
had been dealt with too harshly. So he followed Mrs.
Douglas into the dignified little parlour — which was more
like a museum of cheap curiosities than a room meant for
actual human use ; and forthwith she set on the crimson-
dyed table-cover a glass, a tumbler, a jug of water, and a
violet-coloured bulbous glass bottle with an electro-plated
stopper. Ronald v/as bidden to help himself ; and also, out
of her munificence, she put before him a little basket of
sweet biscuits.
" I hear the Doctor is away again," Ronald said — and a
hundred times would he rather not have touched the violet
bottle at all, knowing that her clear, cold, blue eyes were
calmly regarding his every movement.
" Yes," she said, " to Tongue. There is a consultation
there. I am sure he has had very little peace and quiet
lately."
"I am glad he had a holiday yesterday," Ronald said,
with an endeavour to be agreeable.
But she answered severely —
" It might have been better if he had spent the first day
of his getting back with his own family. But that has
always been his way ; everything sacrificed to the whim of
the moment — to his own likings and dislikings."
" He enjoys a day's sport as much as any man I ever
" WHEN SHADOWS FALL'' 115
saw," said he — not knowing very well what to talk
about.
" Yes, I daresay," she answered shortly.
Then she pushed the biscuits nearer him ; and returned
to her attitude of observation, with her small, neat, white
hands crossed on her lap, the rings on the fingers being
perhaps just a little displayed.
" Miss Douglas is looking very well at present," he said,
at a venture.
" WilUamina is well enough — she generally is," she said
coldly. " There is never much the matter with her health.
She might attend to her studies a little more and do her-
seK no harm. But she takes after her father."
There was a little sigh of resignation.
" Some of us," said he good-naturedly, " were expecting
her to come over on Monday night to see the dancing."
But here he had struck solid rock. In a second — from
her attitude and demeanour — ^lie had guessed why it was
that Meenie had not come over to the landlord's party : a
matter about which he had not found courage to question
Meenie herself.
" Williamina," observed the little dame, with a magnificent
dignity, " has other things to think of — or ought to have, at
her time of life, and in her position. I have had occasion
frequently of late to remind her of what is demanded of
her ; she must conduct herself not as if she were for ever
to be hidden away in a Highland village. It will be neces-
sary for her to take her proper place in society, that she is
entitled to from her birth and her relatives ; and of course
she must be prepared— of course she must be prepared.
There are plenty who will be willing to receive her ; it will be
her own fault if she disappoints them — and us, too, her own
parents. Williamina will never have to lead the life that I
have had to lead, I hope ; she belongs by birth to another
sphere ; and I hope she will make the most of her chances."
" ]\Iiss Douglas would be made welcome anywhere, I am
sure," he ventured to say ; but she regarded him with a
superior look — as if it Avere not for him to pronounce an
opinion on such a point.
" Soon," she continued — and she was evidently bent on
impressing him, " she will be going to Grlasgow to finish in
I 2
ii6 WHITE HEATHER
music and German, and to get on with her Italian : you
will see she has no time to lose in idle amusement. We
would send her to Edinburgh or to London, but her sister
being in Glasgow is a great inducement ; and she will- be
well looted after. But, indeed, Williamina is not the kind
of girl to go and marry a penniless student ; she has too
much common sense ; and, besides, she has seen how it
turns out. Once in a family is enough. No ; we count
on her making a good man'iage, as the first step towards
her taking the position to Avhich she is entitled ; and I am
sure that Lady Stuart will take her in hand, and give her
every chance. As for their taking her abroad with them —
and Sir Alexander almost promised as much — what better
could there be than that ? — she would be able to show off
her acquirements and accomplishments ; she would be intro-
duced to the distinguished people at the ministerial recep-
tions and balls ; she would have her chance, as I say. And
with such a chance before her, surely it would be nothing
less than wicked of her to fling away her time in idle follies.
I want her to remember what lies before her ; a cottage
like this is all very well for me — I have made my bed and
must lie on it ; but for her — who may even be adopted
by Lady Stuart — who knows ? for stranger] things have
happened — it would be downright madness to sink into
content with her present way of hfe."
" And when do you think that M — that Miss Douglas
will be going away to Glasgow ? " he asked — but absently,
as it were, for he was thinking of Inver-Mudal, and Clebrig,
and Loch Loyal, and Strath-Terry, and of Meenie being
away from them all.
" That depends entirely on herself," was the reply. " As
soon as she is sufficiently forward all round for the finishing
lessons, her sister is ready to receive her."
" It will be lonely for you with your daughter away,"
said he.
" Parents have to make sacrifices," she said. " Yes, and
children too. And better they should make them while
they are young than all through the years after. I hope
Williamina's will be no wasted life."
He did not know what further to say ; he was dismayed,
perplexed, downhearted, or something : if this was a lesson
" WHEN SHADO WS FALL " 117
she had meant to read him, it had struck home. So he
rose aud took his leave ; and she thanked him again for
the hares ; and he went out, and found Harry awaiting him
on the doorstep. Moreover, as he went down to the little
gate, he perceived that Mecnie was coming back — she had
been but to the inn with a message ; and, obeying some
curious kind of instinct, he turned to the left — pretending not
to have seen her coming ; and soon he was over the bridge,
and wandering away up the lonely glen whose silence is
broken only by the whispering rush of Mudal Water.
He wandered on and on through the desolate moorland,
on this wild and blustering day, paying but little heed to
the piercing wind or the driven sleet that smote his eyelids.
And he was not so very sorrowful ; his common sense had
told him all this before ; Rose Meeuic, Love ]\Ieenie, was
very well in secret fancies and rhymes and verses ; but
beyond that she was nothing to him. And what would
Clebrig do, and Mudal Water, and all the wide, bleak
country that had been brought up in the love of her, aud
was saturated with the charm of her presence, and seemed
for ever listening in deathlike silence for the light music of
her voice ? There were plenty of verses running through
his head on this wild day too ; the hills and the clouds and
the January sky were full of speech ; and they were all of
them to be bereft of her as well as he : —
3Iudal, that comes from the lonely loch,
Down through the moorland russet and brown.
Know you the news that we have for you ? —
Meenie^s away to Glasgow tmon.
See Ben Clebrig, his giant front
Hidden and dark with a sudden froiim;
What is the light of the v<dley to him.
Since Mecnie's away to Glasgow town ?
Empty the valley, empty the world,
The sun may arise and the sun go down ;
But luhat to do witk the lonely hours,
Since Meenie's away to Glasgow town?
Call her back, Clebrig ! Mudal, call,
Ere all of the young spring time be flown ;
Birds, trees, and blossoms — you that she loved — •
0 summon her bach from Glasgorv town!
" Call her back, Clebrig ! Mudal, call ! " he repeated to
1 1 8 WHITE HE A THER
himself as he marched along the moorland road ; for
what would they do without some one to guard, and some
one to watch for, and some one to listen for, in the first
awakening of the dawn ? Glasgow — the great and grimy
city — that would be a strange sort of guardian, in the
young spring days that were coming, for this fair Suther-
land flower. And yet might not some appeal be made
even there — some summons of attention, as it were ?
0 Glasgoio foion, how little you Jcnow
Tliat Meenie lias ivandered in
To the very heart of your darlcened streets,
Through all the hustle and din.
A Sutherland hlossom shining fair
Amid all your dismal haze,
Forgetting the breath of the summer hills,
And the Hue of the Northern days.
From Dixon's fire-tcreathg to Bollox stalk.
Blow, south wind, and clear the shy.
Till she think of Ben Clehn'g's sunny slopes,
Where the hashing red-deer lie.
Blow, south icind, and slwio her a glimpse of blue
Through the pall of duslcy hroion ;
And see that you guard her and tend her well.
You, fortunate Glasgow townl
But then — but then — that strange, impossible time —
during which there would be no ]\Ieenie visible anywhere
along the mountain roads ; and Mudal, Water would go by
unheeded ; and there would be no careless, clear-singing
girl's voice along Loch Naver's shores — that strange time
would surely come to an end, and he could look forward
and see how the ending of it would be :
The clouds lay heavy on Clehrig's crest.
For days and iccehs together;
The shepherds along Strath-Terry^s side
Cursed at the rainy ivcather ;
Tliey searce could get a favouring day
For the burning of the heather.
When sudden the clouds loere rent in twain
And the hill laughed out to the sun ;
And the hinds stole up, loith icondering eyes.
To the far slopes yellow and dun;
And the birds icere singing in every hush
As at spring anew begun.
A NEW ARRIVAL 119
0 Clehrig, what is it iliat maJies you glad,
And lohither is gone your frown ?
Are you looldng afar into the south.
The long, wide strath adoicn'i
And see you that Meenie is coming hacJc —
Love Meenie, from Glasgow town!
He laughed. Not yet was Love Meenie taken away
from them all. And if in the unknown future the Stuarts
of Glengask and Orosay were to carry her olf and make
a great lady of her, and take her to see strange places, and
perhaps marry her to some noble person, at least in the
meantime Ben Clebrig and Ben Loyal and the wide straths
between knew that they still held in the mighty hollow of
their hand this sweet flower of Sutherlandshire, and that
the world and the skies and the woods and lakes seemed
fairer because of her presence. And as regarded himself,
and his relations with her ? Well, what must be must.
Only he hoped — and there was surely no great vanity nor
self-love nor jealousy in so modest a hope — that the change
of her manner towards him was due to the councils of her
mother rather than to anything he had unwittingly said or
done. Rose Meenie — Love Meenie — he had called her in
verses ; but always he had been most respectful to herself ;
and he could not believe that she thought him capable of
doing anything to offend her.
CHAPTER XIIL
A NEW AREIVAL.
Very early one Sunday morning, while as yet all the world
seemed asleep, a young lady stole out from the little hotel
at Lairg, and wandered down by herself to the silent and
beautiful shores of Loch Shin. The middle of March it
was now, and yet the scene around her was quite summer-
like ; and she was a stranger from very far climes indeed,
who had ventured into the Highlands at this ordinarily
untoward time of the year ; so that there was wonder as
well as joy in her heart as she regarded the fairyland before
her, for it was certainly not what she had been taught to
expect. There was not a ripple on the glassy surface of the
I20 WHITE HEATHER
lake ; every feature of the sleeping and faintly sunlit world
was reflected accurately on the perfect miiTor : the browns
and yellows of the lower moorland ; the faint purple of the
birch-woods ; the aerial blues of the distant hills, with here
and there a patch of snow ; and the fleecy white masses of
the motionless clouds. It was a kind of dream-world — soft-
toned and placid and still, the only sharp bit of colour being
the scfirlet-painted lines of a boat that floated double on
that sea of glass. There was not a sound anywhere but the
twittering of small birds ; nor any movement but the slow
rising into the air of a tiny column of blue smoke from a
distant cottage ; summer seemed to be here already, as the
first light airs of the morning — fresh and clear and sweet —
came stealing along the silver surface of the water, and only
troubling the magic picture here and there in long trembling
swathes.
The young lady was of middle height, but looked taller
than that by reason of her slight and graceful form ; she
was pale, almost sallow, of face, with fine features and a
pretty smile ; her hair was of a lustrous black ; and so,
too, were her eyes — which were large and soft and
attractive. Yery foreign she looked as she stood by the
shores of this Highland loch ; her figure and complexion
and beautiful opaque soft dark eyes perhaps suggesting
more than anything else the Spanish type of the Southern
American woman ; but there was nothing foreign about her
attire ; she had taken care about that ; and if her jet-black
hair and pale cheek had prompted her to choose unusual
tones of colour, at all events the articles of her costume
were all correct — the warm and serviceable ulster of some
roughish yellow and gray material, the buff-coloured,
gauntletcd gloves, and the orange-hued Tam o' Shauter
which she wore quite as one to the manner born. For the
rest, one could easily see that she was of a cheerful
temperament ; pleased with herself ; not over shy, perhaps ;
and very straightforward in her look.
However, the best description of this young lady was
the invention of an ingenious youth dwelling on the
southern shores of Lake ]\Iichigan. — " Carry Hodson," he
observed on one occasion, " is just a real good fellow, that's
what she is." It was a happy phrase, and it soon became
A NEW ARRIVAL 121
popular among the young gentlemen who wore English
hats and vied with each other in driving phantom vehicles
behind long-stepping horses. " Carry Hodson ?— she's just
the best fellow going," they would assure you. And how
better can one describe her ? There was a kind of frank
camaraderie about her ; and she liked amusement, and was
easily amused ; and she laboured under no desire at all of
showing herself "bright" — which chiefly reveals itself in
impertinence ; but, above all, there was in her composition
not a trace of alarm over her relations, however frank and
friendly, with the other sex ; she could talk to any man — ■
old or young, married or single — positively without wonder-
ing when he was about to begin to make love to her. For
one thing, she was quite capable of looking after herself ;
for another, the very charm of her manner — the delightful
openness and straightforwardness of it — seemed to drive
flirtation and sham sentiment forthwith out of court. And
if, when those young gentlemen in Chicago called Miss
Carry Hodson "a real good fellow," they could not help
remembering at the same time that she was an exceedingly
pretty girl, perhaps they appreciated so highly the privilege
of being on good-comrade terms with her that they were con-
tent to remain there rather than risk everything by seeking
for more. However, that need not be discussed further
here. People did say, indeed, that Mr. John C. Huysen,
the editor of the GMcaijo Citizen, was more than likely to
carry off the pretty heiress ; if there was any truth in the
rumour, at all events Miss Carry Hodson remained just
as frank and free and agreeable with everybody — especially
with young men who could propose expeditions and amuse-
ments.
Now there was only one subject capable of entirely up-
setting this young lady's equanimity ; and it is almost a
pity to have to introduce it here ; for the confession must
be made that, on this one subject, she was in the habit of
using very reprehensible language. Where, indeed, she
had picked up so much steamboat and backwoods slang —
unless through the reading of Texas Siflings — it is im-
possible to say ; but her father, who was about the sole
recipient of these outbursts, could object with but little
show of authority, for he was hinaself exceedingly fond, not
122 WHITE HEATHER
exactly of slang, but of those odd phrases, sometimes
half-humorons, that the Americans invent from day to day
to vary the monotony of ordinary speech. These phrases
are like getting off the car and rnnning alongside a little
bit ; you reach your journey's end — the meaning of the
sentence — all the same. However, the chief bugbear and
grievance of Miss Carry Hodson's life was the Boston girl
as displayed to us in fiction ; and so violent became her
detestation of that remarkable young person that it was
very nearly interfering with her coming to Europe.
" But, pappa dear," she would say, regarding the book
before her with some amazement, " will the people in
Europe think I am like tliat ? "
" They won't think anything about you," he would say
roughly.
"What a shame — what a shame — to say American girls
are like that ! " she would continue vehemently. " The
self-conscious little beasts — with then* chatter about tone,
and touch, and culture ! And the men — my gracious,
pappa, do the people in England think that our young
fellows talk like that ? ' Analyse me ; formulate me ! ' he
cries to the girl ; ' can't you imagine my environment by
the aid of your own intuitions 1 '■ — I'd analyse him if he
came to me ; I'd analyse him fast enough : Nine different
sorts of a born fool ; and the rest imitation English prig.
I'd formulate him if he came to me with his pretentious
idiotcy ; I'd show him the kind of chipmunk I am."
" You are improving, Miss Carry," her father would say
resignedly. " You are certainly acquiring force in your
language ; and sooner or later you will be coming out with
some of it when you least expect it ; and then whether it's
you or the other people that will get fits I don't know.
You'll make them jump."
" No, no, pappa dear," she would answer good-naturedly ;
for her vehemence was never of long duration. " I have
my company manners when it is necessary. Don't I know
what I am ? Oh yes, I do. I'm a real high-toned North
Side society lady ; and can behave as sich — when there's
anybody present. But when it's only you and me, pappa,
I like to wave the banner a little — that's all."
This phrase of hers, about waving the banner, had come
A NEW ARRIVAL 123
to mean so many different things that her father could not
follow half of them, and so it was handy in winding np a
discussion ; and he could only remark, with regard to her
going to Europe, and her dread lest she should be suspected
of resembliug one of the imaginary beings for whom she
had conceived so strong a detestation, that really people in
Europe were as busy as people elsewhere, and might not
show too absorbing an interest in declaring what she was
like ; that perhaps their knowledge of the Boston young
lady of fiction was limited, and the matter not one of
deep concern ; and that the best thing she could do was
to remember that she was an American girl, and that she
had as good a right to dress in her own way and speak in
her own way and conduct herself in her own way as any
French, or German, or English, or Italian person she might
meet. All of which Miss Carry received with much sub-
mission— except about dress : she hoped to be able to study
that subject, with a little attention, in Paris.
Well, she was standing there looking abroad on the
fairy-like picture of lake and wood and mountain — and
rather annoyed, too, that, now she was actually in the midst
of scenes that she had prepared herself for by reading, she
could recollect none of the reading at all, but was wholly
and simply interested in the obvious beauty of the place itself
— when she became conscious of a slow and stealthy foot-
step behind her, and, instantly turning, she discovered that
a great dun-colom-ed dog, no doubt belonging to the hotel,
had come down to make her acquaintance. He said as
much by a brief and heavy gambol, a slow wagging of his
mighty tail, and the upturned glance of his small, flat,
leonine eyes.
" Well," she said, " who are you ? Would you like to go
for a walk ? "
Whether he understood her or no he distinctly led the
way — taking the path leading along the shores of the loch
towards Inver-shin ; and as there did not seem to be any
sign yet of anybody moving about the hotel, she thought
she might just as well take advantage of this volunteered
escort. Not that the mastiff was over communicative in his
friendliness ; he would occasionally turn round to see if she
was following ; and if she called to him and spoke to him,
124 WHITE HEATHER
he would merely make another heavy effort at a gambol and
go on again with his slow-moving pace. Now and again a
shepherd's collie would come charging down on him from
the hillside, or two or three small terriers, keeping sentry at
the door of a cottage, would suddenly break the stillness of
the Sunday morning by the most ferocious barking at his
approach ; but he took no heed of one or the other.
"Do you know that you are an amiable dog — but not
amusing ? " she said to him, when he had to wait for her to
let him get through a swinging stile. " I've got a dog at
home not a quarter as big as you, and he can talk twice as
much. I suppose your thoughts are important, though.
What do they call you ? Dr. Johnson ? "
He looked at her with the clear, lionlike eyes, but only for
a second ; seemed to think it futile trying to understand
her ; and then went on again with his heavy, shambling
waddle. And she liked the freshness of the morning, and
the novelty of being all alone by herself in the Scottish
Highlands, and of going forward as a kind of pioneer and
discoverer ; and so she walked on in much delight, listening
to the birds, looking at the sheep, and thinking nothing at
all of breakfast, and the long day's drive before her father
and herself.
And then a sudden conviction was flashed on her mind
that something was wrong. There was a man coming rush-
ing along the road after her — Avith neither coat nor cap on
— and as he drew near she could hear him say — ■
" Ah, you rascal ! you rascal ! Bolted again ? "
He seemed to pay no attention to her ; he ran past her
and made straight for the mastiff ; and in a couple of
minutes had a nnizzle securely fastened on the beast, and
was leading him back with an iron chain.
'• Surely that is not a ferocious dog ? " said she, as they
came up — and perhaps she was curious to know whether
she had run any chance of being eaten.
'• The master had to pay five pounds last year for his
worrying sheep — the rascal," said the man ; and the great
dog wagged his tail as if in approval.
" Why, he seems a most gentle creature," she said,
walking on with the man.
" Ay, and so he is, miss — most times. But he's barely
A NEW ARRIVAL 125
three years old, and already he's killed two collies and a
terrier, and worried three sheep."
" Killed other dogs ? Oh, Dr. Johnson 1 " she exclaimed.
" He's sweirt * to begin, miss ; but when he does begin
he maun kill — there's no stopping him. The rascal! he
likes fine to get slippin' away wi' one of the gentlefolks, if
he's let off the chain for a few minutes — it's a God's mercy
he has done no harm this morning — it was the ostler let
him off the chain — and he'd have lost his place if there
had been ony mair worrying."
" No, no, no, he would not," she said confidently. " I
took the dog away. If any mischief had been done, I
would have paid — why, of course."
" ^Vhy, of cois,''^ was what she really said ; but all the
man knew was that this American young lady spoke with a
very pleasant voice ; and seemed good-natured ; and was
well-meaning, too, for she would not have had the ostler
suffer. Anyway, the mastiff, with as much dignity as was
compatible with a muzzle and an iron chain, was conducted
back to his kennel ; and Miss Hodson went into the hotel,
and expressed her profound sorrow that she had kept
breakfast waiting ; but explained to her father that it was
not every morning she had the chance of exploring the
Highlands all by herself — or rather accompanied by a huge
creature apparently of amiable nature, but with really dark
possibilities attached.
In due course of time the waggonette and horses were
brought round to the door of the little hotel ; their baggage
was put in ; and presently they had set forth on their drive
through the still, sunlit, solitary country. But this was a
far more pleasant journey than his first venturing into these
wilds. He had been warning his daughter of the bleak
and savage solitude she would have to encounter ; but now
it appeared quite cheerful — in a subdued kind of way, as if
a sort of Sunday silence hung over the landscape. The
pale blue waters of Loch Shin, the beech-woods, the russet
slopes of heather, the snow-touched azure hills along the
horizon — all these looked pretty and were peacefully
shining on this fair morning ; and even after they had got
♦ Sweirt, reluctant.
126 WHITE HEATHER
away from the last trace of human habitation, and were
monotonously driving through mile after mile of the wide,
boggy, hopeless peatlaud, the winter colours were really
brighter than those of summer, and the desolation far from
overpowering. If they met with no human beings, there
were other living objects to attract the eye. A golden
plover — standing on a hillock not half a dozen yards off,
would be caUing to his mate ; a wild duck would go
whirring by ; a red-plumed grouse-cock would cease dusting
himself in the road, and would be off into the heather as
they came along, standhig and looking at them as they
passed. And so on and on they went, mile after mile, along
the fair shining Strath-Terry ; the morning air blowing
freshly about them ; the sunlight lying placidly on those
wide stretches of russet and golden bogland ; and now and
again a flash of dark blue showing where some mountain-
tarn lay silent amid the moors.
" And you thought I should be disappointed, pappa
dear ? " said Miss Carry, " or frightened by the loneliness ?
AVhy, it's just too beautiful for anything ! And so this is
where tlie Clan Mackay lived in former days ? "
" Is it ? " said her father, " I wonder what they lived
on. I don't think we'd give much for that land in Illinois.
Give for it ? You couldn't get a white man to trade for
that sort of land ; we'd have to ask AVisconsin to take it
and hide it away somewhere."
" AVhat are those things for ? " she asked, indicating
certain tall poles that stood at intervals along the roadside.
" Why, don't you know? These are poles to tell them
where the road is in snow time."
" Then it is not always May in these happy latitudes ? "
she observed shrewdly.
He laughed.
" I heard some dreadful stories when I was here in
January — but I don't believe much in weather stories.
Anyhow, we've got to take what comes now ; and so far
there is not much to howl about."
And at last they came in sight of the ruffled blue waters
of Loch Naver ; and the long yeUow promontories running
out into the lake ; and the scant birch- woods fringing here
and there the rocky shore ; with the little hamlet of Inver-
A NEW ARRIVAL 127
Mudal nestling down there in the hollow ; and far away in
the north the mountain masses of Ben Hope and Ben Loyal
struck white with snow. And she was very curious to see
the kind of people who lived in these remote solitudes ; and
the pretty sloe-black eyes were all alert as the waggonette
rattled aloug towards the two or three scattered houses ;
and perhaps, as they drove up to the inn, she Avas wonder-
ing whether Konald the gamekeeper, of whom she had
heard so much, would be anywhere visible. But there was
scarcely any one there. The Sabbath quiet lay over the
little hamlet. Mr. Murray appeared, however, — in his
Sunday costume, of course, — and an ostler ; and presently
Miss Carry and her father were in the sitting-room that
had been prepared for them — a great mass of peats cheer-
fully blazing in the capacious fireplace, and the white-
covered table furnished with a substantial luncheon.
" And what do you think of your future maid ? " her
father asked, when the pretty Nelly had left the room.
" Well, I think she has the softest voice I ever heard a
woman speak with," v/as the immediate answer. " And
such a pretty way of talking — and looking at you — very
gentle and friendly. But she won't do for my maid, pappa ;
she's too tall ; I should want to put a string round her
neck and lead her about like a giraife."
However, she was pleased with the appearance and
manner of the girl, and that was something ; for, oddly
enough, Mr, Hodson seemed to imagine that he had
discovered this remote hamlet, and was responsible for it,
and anxious that his daughter should think well of it, and
of the people she might meet in it. He called her atten-
tion to the scent of the peat ; to the neatness with which
the joints on the table had been decorated with little paper
frills ; to the snugness and quiet of the sitting-room ; to
the spacious character of the views from the windows — -one
taking in Clebrig and the loch, the other reaching away up
to Ben Loyal. All these things he had provided for her,
as it were ; and it must be said that she was a most
escellent travelling-companion, always content, easily inte-
rested, never out of humour. So, when he proposed, after
luncheon, that they should go along and call on Ronald
Strang, she readily consented ; no doubt a keeper's dwelling
128 WHITE HE A THER
in these wilds would be something curious — perhaps of a
wigwam character, and of course filled with all kinds of
trophies of his hunting.
Well, they went along to the cottage, and Mr. Hodson
knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer. He
rapped a little more loudly ; then they heard some one
within ; and presently the door was thrown open, and
Ronald stood before them — a book in one hand, a pipe in
the other, no jacket covering his shirfc-slceves, and the
absence of any necktie showing a little more than was
necessary of the firm set of his sun-tanned throat. He had
been caught unawares — as his startled eyes proclaimed ; in
fact, he had been reading Paradise Regained., and manfully
resisting the temptation to slip on to the gracious melody
of V Allegro, and II Penseroso, and Lycidas ; and when he
heard the tapping he fancied it was merely one of the lads
come for a chat or the last newspaper, and had made no
preparations for the reception of visitors.
" How are you, Ronald ? " said Mr. Hodson. " I have
brought my daughter to see you."
" Will ye step in, sir ? " said Ronald hastily, and with a
terrible consciousness of his untidy appearance. " Ay, in
there — will ye sit down for a few minutes — and will ye ex-
cuse me — I thought you werena coming till to-morrow "
"Well, I thought they might object to driving me on a
Sunday. I can't make it out. Perhaps what I have read
about Scotland is not true. Or perhaps they have altered of
late years. Anyhow they made no objection, and here I am."
In the midst of these brief sentences — each pronounced
with a little rising inflexion at the end — Ronald managed
to slip away and get himself made a little more presentable.
When he returned the apparent excuse for his absence was
that he brought in some glasses and water and a bottle of
whisky ; and then he went to a little mahogany sideboard
and brought out a tin case of biscuits.
" You need not trouble about these things for us ; we
have just had lunch," Mr. Hodson said.
" Perhaps the young lady ? " said Ronald timidly,
and even nervously, for there was no plate handy, and he
did not know how to offer her the biscuits.
"Oh no, I thank you," she said, with a pretty and
A NEW ARRIVAL 120
gracious smile ; and he happened to meet her eyes just at
that time ; and instantly became aware that they were
curiously scrutinising and observant, despite their apparent
softness and lustrous blackness.
Now Miss Carry Hodson had an abundance of shrewd
feminine perception, and it was easy for her to see that
this handsome and stalwart young fellow had been griev-
ously disturbed, and was even now unnerved, through his
having been caught in disarray on the occasion of a young
lady visiting him ; and accordingly, to allow him to recover,
she deliberately effaced herself ; saying not a word, nor even
listening, while her father and he proceeded to talk about
the salmon-fishing, and about the distressingly fine weather
that threatened to interfere with that pursuit. She sate
silent, allowing those observant eyes of hers to roam freely
round the room, and indeed wondering how a man of his
occupations could so have contrived to rob his home of all
distinctive character and to render it so clearly common-
place. There was nothing wild or savage about it ; nob
the skin of any beast, nor the plumage of any bird ; every-
thing was of a bourgeois neatness and respectability — the
ornaments on the mantelshelf conspicuously so ; and what
was strangest of all — though this will scarcely be believed
— the two roebucks' heads that adorned the wall, in a
country where roe abound, were earthenware casts, and
very bad casts too, obviously hailing from Germany. She
observed, however, that there were a good many books
about — some of them even piled in obscure corners ; and
to judge by the sober character of their cloth binding she
guessed them to be of a rather superior class. The pictures
on the walls were some cheap reprints of Landseer ; a
portrait of the Duke of Sutherland, in Highland garb ; a
view of Dunrobin Castle ; and a photograph of Mr. Millais'
" Order of Eelease."
After a while she began to know (without looking) that
the young man had assumed sufficient courage to glance at
her from time to time ; and she allowed him to do that ;
for she considered that the people in Regent Street had
fitted her out in Highland fashion in a sufficiently accurate
way. But it soon appeared that he was talking about her ;
and what was this wild proposal ?
I30 WHITE HEATHER
" It seems a pity," he was saying', " if the fish are taking,
not to have two boats at the work. And there's that big
rod o' yours, sir — yon could use that for the trolling ; and
let the young lady have one o' your grilse rods. Then
there's mine — she can have that and welcome "
" Yes, but the gillies "
" Oh, I'll take a turn myself ; I'm no so busy the now.
And I can get one o' the lads to lend a hand."
" Do you hear this, Carry ? " her father said.
" What, pappa ? "
" Eonald wants you to start off salmon-fishing to-morrow,
in a boat all to yourself "
" Alone ? "
" Why, no ! He says he will go with you, and one of the
lads ; and you will have all the best advice and experience
— I don't think it's fair, myself — but it's very good-natured
anyhow "
" And do you think there's a chance of my catching a
salmon ? " she said eagerly, and she turned her eloquent
black eyes, all lit up Avith pleasure, full upon him.
" Oh yes, indeed," said he, looking down, " and many
and many a one, I :am sure, if we could only get a little wet
weather."
" ]\Iy 1 " she exclaimed. " If I caught a salmon, I'd have
it stuffed right away "
"With sage and onions, I suppose," her father said
severely.
" And we begin to-morrow ? Why, it's just too delight-
ful— I was looking forward to days and days indoors, with no-
thing but books. And I shall really have a chance ? "
" I think you might as well thank Eonald for his offer,"
her father said. " I should never have thought of it."
Well, she hesitated ; for it is a difficult thing to make
a formal little speech when it is asked for by a third
person ; but the young keeper quickly laughed away her
embarrassment.
" No, no, sir ; we'll wait for that till we see how our
luck turns out. And we'll have the Duke's boat, mind,
that Duncan says is the lucky one ; you'll have to look
sharp, sir, or we'll have the biggest show on the grass at the
end of the day."
^' ABOUT ILLINOIS'' 13I
Mr. Hodson now rose to take his leave, for he wanted
his daughter to walk down to the shores of the loch where
they were next day to begin their labours. And thus it
was that Miss Carrj' — who had looked forward at the most
to sitting in the boat with her father and looking on —
found herself pledged to a course of salmon-fishing, under
the immediate guidance and instruction of the young keeper ;
and she had noticed that he had already talked of the
occupants of the Duke's boat as " we " — assuming that he
and she were in a sort of partnership, and pitted against
the others. Well, it would be amusiug, she thought. She
also considered that he was very good-looking ; and that it
would be pleasanter to have a companion of that kind than
a surly old boatman. She imagined they might easily be-
come excellent friends — at least she was willing enough ;
and he seemed civil and good-humoured and modest ;
and altogether the arrangement promised to work very well.
CHAPTER XIV.
"about I L L I N 0 I s."
There was a good deal of bustle in the inn next morning ;
Ronald busy with the fishing-tackle for the second boat ;
luncheon being got ready for six ; and the gillies fighting
as to which party should have the landing-net and which
the clip. In the midst of all this Miss Carry— looking very
smart in her Highland costimie, Tam 0' Shanter and all^
came placidly in to breakfast, and as she sate down she
said —
" Pappa dear, I met such a pretty girl."
" Have you been out ? " he asked.
" Only as far as the bridge. I met her as I was coming
back. And she looked so pretty and shy that I spoke to
her ; I think she was a little frightened at first ; but any-
way I got to know who she is— the Doctor's daughter.
Oh, you should hear her speak — the accent is so pretty and
gentle. AVell, it's all settled, pappa ; I'm just in love with
the Highland people, from this out."
" There's safety in numbers," observed her father grimly ;
K 2
132 WHITE HEATHER
and then lie proceeded to explore the contents of the
covers.
When they were ready to go down to the loch they found
that the men had already set out — all but Eonald, who had
remained behind to see if there was nothina: further he
could carry for the young lady. So these three started
together ; and of course all the talk was about the far too
fine weather, and the chances of getting a fish or two in
spite of it, and the betting on the rival boats. Miss Carry
listened in silence ; so far she had heard or seen nothing
very remarkable about the handsome young keeper who
had so impressed her father. He spoke frankly and freely
enough, it is true (when he was not speaking to her), and
he was recounting with some quiet sarcasm certain super-
stitious beliefs and practices of the people about there ;
but, apart from the keen look of his eyes, and the maiily
riug of his voice, and the easy swing of the well-built figure,
there was nothing, as she considered, very noticeable about
him. She thought his keeper's costume rather picturesque,
and weather-worn into harmonious colour ; and woudered
how men in towns had come to wear the unsightly garments
of these present days. And so at last they arrived at the
loch ; and found that the gillies had got the rods fixed and
everything ready ; and presently the black boat, with Mr.
Hoclson and his two gillies, was shoved off, and Eonald,
liefore asking the young lady to step into the green boat —
the Duke's boat — was showing her what she should do if
a salmon should attach itself to either of the lines.
" I don't feel like catching a salmon somehow," she re-
marked. '' I don't think it can be true. Anyway you'll
see I shan't scream."
She stepped into the boat and took her seat ; the rods
were placed for her ; the coble was shoved farther into the
water, and then Ronald and the young lad got in and took
to the oars. Miss Carry was bidden to pay out one of the
lines slowly as they moved away from the bank ; and in
due course she had both lines out and the two rods fixed at
the proper angle, and the reels free. She obeyed all his
instructions without haste or confusion. She was a pro-
mising pupil. And he wondered what nerve she would
show when the crisis came
''ABOUT ILLINOIS'' 133
Now it may be explained for the benefit of those inex-
perienced in such things that these fishing cobles have a
cross bench placed about midway between the stern and
the thwart occupied by the stroke oar ; and the usual
custom is for the fisherman to sit on this bench facing the
stern, so that he can see both rods and be ready for the
first shaking of the top. But Miss Carry did not under-
stand this at all. In entering the coble she naturally took
her place right astern, facing the rowers. It never entered
her head to be guilty of the discourtesy of turning her back
on them ; besides, Ronald was directing her with his eyes
as much as with his speech, and she must be able to see
him ; moreover he did not tell her she was sitting the
wrong way ; and then again was not the first signal to be
the shrieking of the reel ? — and both reels were now under
her observation, so that she could snatch at either rod in
a second. The consequence of all this was that she and
Ronald sate face to face — not more than a yard and a half
between them — their eyes exactly on a level — and when
they spoke to each other, it was very distinctly unter vier
Augen., for the boy at the bow was mostly hidden.
" Pappa dear," she said to her father that evening, " he
is a very nervous man."
" Who ? "
" Ronald."
" Nonsense. He is hard as nails. He don't know what
nerves mean."
" He is a very nervous man," she insisted (and had she
not been studying him for a whole day ?). " His eyes throb
when you meet them suddenly. Or rather he seems to
know they are very powerful and penetrating — and he does
not like to stare at you — so you can see there is a tremor
of the lid sometimes as he looks up — as if he would partly
veil his eyes. It's very curious. He's shy — like a wild
animal almost. And that pretty girl I met this morning
has something of that look too."
_" Perhaps they're not used to having the cold gaze of
science turned on them," her father remarked drily.
" Is that me ? "
" You may take it that way."
"Then you're fjuite wrong. It isn't science at all. It is
134 WHITE HEATHER
an active and benevolent sympathy ; I am going to make
friends with every one of them, Konald says her name is
Miss Douglas — and I mean to call."
" Very well, then," said her father, who left this young
lady pretty much the mistress of her own actions.
However, to return to the fishing : the morning did not
promise well, the weather being too bright and clear, though
there was a very fair breeze — of a curious sultry character
for the middle of March— blowing up from the south and
making a good ripple on the loch. Again and again the
two boats crossed each other ; and the invariable cry was — •
" Nothing yet ? "
And the answer — ■
" Not a touch."
By this time Miss Carry had got to know a good deal
about the young keeper whose eyes were so directly on a
level with hers. He had been to Aberdeen, and to Glasgow,
and to Edinburgh ; but never out of Scotland ? — no. Had
he no wish to see London and Paris ? Had he no wish to
see America ? — why, if he came over, her father would
arrange to have him put in the way of seeing everything.
And perhaps he might be tempted to stay ? — there were
such opportunities for young men, especially in the west.
As for her, she was most communicative about herself ; and
apparently she had been everywhere and seen everything —
except Stratford-on-Avon : that was to be the climax ; that
was to be the last thing they should visit in Europe — and
then on to Liverpool and home. She had been a great
deal longer in Europe than her father, she said. Her
mother was an invalid and could not travel ; her brother
George (Joidge, she called him) was at school ; so she and
a schoolfellow of hers had set out for Europe, accompanied
by a maid and a courier, and had " seen most everything "
from St. Petersburg to Wady Haifa. And all this and more
she told him with the black soft eyes regarding him openly ;
and the pale, foreign, tea-rose tinted face full of a friendly
interest ; and the pretty, white, delicate small fingers idly
intertwisting the buff-coloured gloves that she had taken off
at his recfuest. Inver-Mudal, Clebrig, Ben Loyal, the straths
and woods around looked to him small and confined on this
quiet morning. She seemed to have brought with her a
''ABOUT ILLINOIS'' 135
wider atmosphere, a larger air. And for a young girl like
this to know so much — to have seen so much — and to talk
so simply and naturally of going here, there, or anywhere,
as if distance were nothing, and time nothing, and money
nothing ; all this puzzled him not a little. She must have
courage, then, and daring, and endurance, despite the pale
face and the slender figure, and the small, white, blue-veined
hands ? Why, she spoke of running over to Paris, in about
a fortnight's time, to be present at the wedding of a friend,
just as any one about here would speak of driving on to
Tongue and returning by the mail-cart next day.
Suddenly there was a quick, half -suppressed exclamation.
" There he is ! — there he is ! "
And all in a second, as it seemed, Ronald had flung his
oar back to the lad behind, seized one of the rods and raised
it and put it in her hands, and himself got hold of the
other, and was rapidly reeling in the line. What was
happening she could hardly tell — she was so bewildered.
The rod that she painfully held upright was being violently
shaken — now and again there was a loud, long whirr of the
reel — and Eonald was by her shoulder, she knew, but not
speaking a word — and she was wildly endeavouring to
recall all that he had told her. Then there was a sudden
slackening of the line — what was this ?
" All right," said he, very quietly. " Reel in now — as
quick as ye can, please."
Well, she was reeling in as hard as her small and delicate
wrist was able to do — and in truth she was too bewildered
to feel excited ; and above all other earthly things was she
anxious that she shouldn't show herself a fool, or scream,
or let the thing go — when all at once the handle of the reel
seemed to be whipped from her grasp ; there was a long
whirring shriek of the line ; she could hear somewhere a
mighty splash (though she dared not look at anything but
what was in her hands), and at the same moment she
fancied Ronald said, with a quiet laugh —
" We've beat them this time — a clean fish ! "
" Do you think we'll get him ? " she said breathlessly.
" We'll hold on to him as long as he holds on to us,"
Ronald said ; and she heard him add to himself, " I would
rather than five shillings we got the first fish ! "
136 WHITE HEATHER
" But this thing is so heavy ! " she pleaded.
" Never mind — that's right — that's right — keep a good
strain on him — we'll soon bring him to his senses."
Again there was a sudden slackening of the line ; and
this time she actually saw the animal as it sprang into the
air — a white gleaming curved thing — but instantly her
; ttention was on the reel.
" That's it — you're doing fine," he said, with an inten-
tional quietude cf tone, so that she might not get over-
nervous and make a mistake.
Then he made her stand up, and fortunately the coble
was rocking but little ; and he moved her left hand a little
higher up the rod, so that she should have better leverage ;
and she did all that she was bid mutely and meekly, though
her arm was already beginning to feel the heavy strain.
She vowed to herself that so long as she could draw a
breath she would not give in.
The other boat was passing — but of course at a respectful
distance.
" Hold on to him. Carry ! " her father called.
She paid no heed. She dared not even look in his
direction. The fish seemed to be following up the coble
now, and it was all that the slender wrist could do to get
in the line so as to keep the prescribed curve on the rod.
And then she had to give way again ; for the salmon went
steadily and slowly down — boring and sulking — and they
pulled the boat away a bit, lest he should suddenly come
to the surface and be after some dangerous cantrip. She
took advantage of this period of quiet to pass the rod from
her left hand to her right ; and that relieved her arm a
little ; and she even ventured to say —
" How long is he going on like this ? "
" We'll give him his own time, Miss," Eonald said.
" Don't call me Miss," she said, with a little vexation.
" I — I beg yom- pardon — what then ? "
" Oh, anything you like. Mind you catch me if I fall
into the water."
The truth was she was a little bit excited, and desperately
anxious that her strength should hold out ; and even per-
mitting herself an occasional gleam of hope and joy and
triumph. Her first salmon ? Here would be tidings for
*' ABOUT ILLINOIS'" 137
the girls at home ! If only the beast would do something —
or show signs of yielding — anything rather than she should
have to give in, and weakly resign the rod to Eonald ! As
for him, he stood almost touching her shoulder.
"Xo, no," said he, "there's no fear 0' your falling into
the water, "We've got to get this gentleman out first."
And then her feeble efforts at talking (meant to show
that she was not excited, but having exactly the contrary
effect) all went by the board. Something was happening —
she knew not what — something wild, terrifying, violent,
desperate — and apparently quite near — and all the line was
slack now — and the handle of the reel stuck in her frantic
efforts to turn it with an impossible quickness^and her
heart was choking with fright. For why would this beast
spring, and splash, and churn the water, while the line
seemed to go all wrong and everything become mixed ?
But her trembling fingers got the reel to work at last ; and
she wound as quickly as she could ; and by this time the
salmon had disappeared again, and was bearing an even,
dead strain on the rod, but not so heavily as before.
" My gracious ! " she said — she was quite breathless.
" It's all right," he said quietly ; but he had been pretty
breathless too, and for several seconds in blank despair.
The fish began to show signs of yielding — that last fierce
thrashing of the water had weakened him. She got in more
and more line — Ronald's instructions being of the briefest
and quietest — and presently they could see a faint gleam in
the water as the big nsh sailed this way or that. But still,
she knew not what he might not do. That terrible time
had been altogether unexpected. And yet she knew — and
her left arm was gratefully conscious — that the strain was
not so heavy now ; the line was quite short ; and she became
aware that she was exercising more and more power over her
captive and could force him to stop Ms brief and ineffectual
rushes.
Once or twice he had come quite near the boat — sailing
in on his side, as it were — and then sheering off again at
the sight of them ; but these efforts to get away were
growing more and more feeble ; and at last Ronald called—
" We'll try him this time— give him the butt well— that's
right— lift his head — now " and then there was a
138 WHITE HEATHER
quick stroke of the clip, and tlio great monster was in the
boat, and she sank down on to the bench, her arms limp
and trembling-, but her hand still grasping the rod. And
she felt a little inclined to laugh and to cry ; and she
wondered where her father was ; and she looked on in a
dazed way as they killed the fish, and got the phantom-
minnow out of its mouth, and proceeded to the weighing of
the prize.
" Eleven pounds and a half — well done the Duke's
boat ! " Eonald cried. " Is it your first salmon, Miss
Hodson ? "
" Why, certainly."
" You'll have to drink its health, or there'll be no more
luck for you this season," said he, and he reached back for a
pocket-flask.
" But where is my father ? " she said — she was anxious he
should hear the news.
" Oh," said he coolly, " tney've been into a fish for
the last ten minutes ; I wouldna tell ye, in case it might
distract ye."
" Have they got one ? " she cried.
"They've got something — ^and I dinna think it's a kelt
from the way they're working."
She clapped her hands in delight. Yes, and that in-
voluntary little action revealed to her what she had not
known before — that one of her fingers was pretty badly cut,
and bleeding.
" AVhat's this ? " she said, but she did not heed much — ■
now that the great beautiful gleaming fish lay in the bottom
of the boat.
Ronald cared a great deal more. He threw aside the
flask. A cut ? — it was his own stupidity was the cause of
it ; he ought to have known that her delicate fingers could
not withstand the whirring out of the line ; he should have
allowed her to keep on her gloves. And nothing would do
but that she must carefully bathe the wound in the fresh
water of the loch ; and he produced a piece of plaster ; and
then he cut a strip oflf her handkerchief, and bound up the
finger so.
" What do I care ? " she said — pointing to the salmon.
And then he begged her to drink a little whisky and
''ABOUT ILLINOIS'' 139
water — for luck's sake — though he had been rather scornful
about these customs in the morning ; and she complied —
smiling towards him as the Netherby bride may have looked
at Young Lochinvar ; but yet he would not drink in her
presence ; he put the flask aside ; and presently they were
at their work again, both lines out, and the southerly breeze
still keeping up.
They passed the other boat.
" What weight ? " was the cry.
" Eleven and a half. Have you got one ? "
" Yes."
" How much ? "
" Jusu over seven."
"Duncan will be a savage man," said Ronald, with a
laugh. " It's all the bad luck of his boat, he'll be saying ;
though it's good enough luck for the two first fish to be
clean fish and no kelt."
However, the Duke's boat fell away from its auspicious
beginning that morning. AYhen lunch time arrived, and
both cobles lauded at a part of the shore agreed upon,
where there was a large rock for shelter, and a good ledge
for a seat, Miss Carry had but the one fish to be taken out
and placed on the grass, while her father had two — resj^ec-
tively seven and thirteen pounds. And very picturesque,
indeed, it was to see those white gleaming creatures lying
there ; and the two boats drawn up on the shore, with the
long rods out at the stern ; and the gillies forming a group
at some distance off uuder the shelter of the stone dyke ;
and the wide waters of the lake all a breezy blue in the cup
of the encircling sunlit hills. Ronald got out the luncheon,
for he had seen to the packing of it — and he knew more
about table napkins and things of that sort than those men ;
and then, when he had made everything right, and brought
ashore a cushion for Miss Carry to sit upon, and so forth, he
went away.
" Ronald," J\rr. Hodson called to him, " ain't you going
to have some lunch ? "
" Yes, sir."
" Come along, then ; there's plenty of room rig-ht here."
" Thank ye, sir ; I know where they've putf my little
parcel," said he — and he Avent and sate down with the gillies ;
140 WHITE HEATHER
and soon there was enough talking and laughing amongst
them — faintly heard across the wind.
" Well ? " said her father, when they were left alone.
" Oh, it's just too delightful for anything."
This was her summing up of the whole situation. And
then she added —
" Pappa, may I send my salmon to Lily Selden ? "
" I wouldn't call it kindness," said he. " Looks more
like boasting. And what's the good, since she is staying at
a hotel."
" Oh, she will be as glad as I am even to see it. But
can't they cook it at a hotel anyway ? I want to be even
with Lily about that balloon. I don't see much myself in
going up in a balloon. I would just like to have Lily here
now — think she wouldn't fall down and worship those beau-
tiful creatures ? "
" Well, you may send her yours, if you like," her father
said. " Bat you needn't dawdle so over your luncheon.
These days are short ; and I want to see what we can do on
our first trial."
" I'm ready, now, if it comes to that," said she placidly ;
and she put a couple of sweet biscuits in her pocket, to
gtiard against emergency.
And soon they were afloat again. But what was this
that was coming over the brief winter afternoon ? The
sultry south wind did not die away, nor yet did any mani-
fest clouds appear in the heavens, but a strange gloom
began to fill the skies, obscuring the sun, and gradually
becoming darker and darker. It was very strange ; for,
while the skies overhead were thus unnaturally black, and
the lapping ^vater around the boats similarly livid, the low-
lying hills at the horizon were singularly keen and intense
in colour. The air was hot and close, though the breeze
still came blowing up Strath-Terry. There was a feeling
as if thunder were imminent, though there were no clouds
anywhere gathering along the purple mountain-tops.
This unusual darkness seemed to affect the fishing.
Bound after round they made — touching nothing but one
or two ke'\s ; and this Eonald declared to be a bad sign,
for that when the kelts began to take, there was small chance
of a clean fish. ' However, Miss Carry did not care. She
''ABOUT ILLINOIS" 141
jiad caught her first salmon — that was enough. Nay, it
was sufficient to make her very cheerful and communicative ;
and she told him a good deal about her various friends in
the Garden City — but more especially, as it seemed to the
respectful listener, of the young men who, from a humble
beginning, had been largely successful in business ; and she
asked him many questions about himself, and was curious
about his relations with Lord Ailine. Of course, she went
on the assumption that the future of the world lay in
America, and that the future of America lay in the l)ountiful
lap of Chicago : and she half intimated that she could not
understand how any one could waste his time anywhere
else. Her father had been born in a log-cabin ; but if he
—that is, Eonald — could see the immense blocks devoted
to " Hodson's reaper " " on Clinton and Canal streets " he
would understand what individual enterprise could achieve
out west. The " manifest destiny " of Chicago loomed large
in this young lady's mind ; the Eastern Cities were " not in
it," so to speak ; and Ronald heard with reverence of the
trade with J\Iontana, and Idaho, and Wyoming, and Colo-
rado, and Utah, and ISTevada, It is true that she was
recalled from this imparting of information by a twenty-five
minutes' deadly straggle with a creature that turned out
after all to be a veritable clean salmon : and with this
triumph ended the day's sport ; for the afternoon was
rapidly wearing to dusk. The gloom of the evening, by
the way, was not decreased by a vast mass of smoke that
came slowly rolling along between the black sky and the
black lake ; though this portentous thing — that looked as if
the whole world were on fire — meant nothing further than
the barning of the heather down Strath-Terry way. When
both cobles were drawn up on the beach, it was found that
Mr. Hodson had also added one clean salmon to his score ;
so that the five fish, put in a row on the grass, made a very
goodly display, and were a sufficiently auspicious beginning.
" Carry," said her father, as they walked home together
in the gathering darkness, "do you know Avhat you are
expected to do ? You have caught your first salmon : that
means a sovereign to tJie men in the boat."
" I will give a sovereign to the young fellow," said she,
" and willingly ; but I can't offer money tu Ronald."
142 WHITE HEATHER
" "Why not ? it is the custom here."
" Oh, I declare I couldn't do it. My gracious, no ! I
would sooner — I would sooner — no, no, pappa dear, I could
not offer him money."
" Well, we must do something. You see, we are taking
up all his time. I suppose we'll have to send for another
gillie — if you care to go on with that boat "
" I should think I did ! " she said. " But why should you
send for another gillie so long as Ronald says he is not busy ?
I daresay he can tell us when he is ; I don't believe he's
half so shy as he looks. And he's much better fun than
one of these Highlanders ; he wants his own way ; and,
with all his shyness, he has a pretty good notion of himself
and his own opinions. He don't say you are a fool if you
differ from him ; but he makes you feel like it. And then,
besides," she added lightly, " we can make it up to him some
way or other. Why, I have been giving him a great deal of
good advice this afternoon."
" You ? About what ? "
"About Blinois," she said.
CHAPTER XV.
WILD TIMES.
What that mysterious gloom had meant on the previous
evening was revealed to them the next morning by a
roaring wind that came swooping down from the Clebrig
slopes, shaking the house, and howling through the bent and
leafless trees. The blue surface of the lake was driven white
with curling tips of foam ; great bursts of sunlight sped
across the plains and suddenly lit up the northern hills ;
now and again Ben Hope or Ben Hee or Ben Loyal would
disappear altogether behind a vague mass of gray, and then as
quickly break forth again into view, the peaks and shoulders
all aglow and the snow-patches glittering clear and sharp.
The gillies hung about the inn door, disconsolate. Nelly
made no speed with the luncheon-baskL'ts. And probably
Mr. Hodson and his daughter would have relapsed into
letter-writing, reading, and other feeble methods of passing
a rough day iu the Highlands, had not Ronald come along
IVILD TIMES 143
and changed tlie whole aspect of affairs. For if the wind
was too strong, he pointed out, to admit of their working
the phantom-minnow properly, they might at least try the
fly. There were occasional lulls in the gale. It was some-
thing to do. Would Miss Hodson venture ? Miss Hodson
replied by swinging her waterproof on her arm ; and they
all set out.
Well, it was a wild experiment. At first, indeed, when
they got down to the shores of the loch, the case Avas quite
hopeless ; no boat — much less a shallow flat-bottomed
coble — could have lived in such a sea ; and they merely
loitered about, holding themselves firm against the force of
the wind, and regarding as best they might the savage
beauty of the scene around them — the whirling blue and
white of the loch, the disappearing and reappearing hills,
the long promontories suddenly become of a vivid and
startling yellow, and then as suddenly again steeped in
gloom. But Miss Carry was anxious to be aboard.
" We should only be driven across to the shore yonder,"
Ronald said ; " or maybe capsized."
" Oh, but that would be delightful," she remarked in-
stantly. " I never had my life saved. It would read very
well in the papers."
" Yes, but it might end the other way," her father inter-
posed. " And then I don't see where the fun would come
in — though you would get your newspaper paragraph all
the same."
Eonald had been watching the clouds and the direction of
the squalls on the loch ; there was some appearance of a lull.
" We'll chance it now," he said to the lad ; and forthwith
they shoved the boat into the water, and arranged the
various things.
Miss Carry was laughing. She knew it was an adven-
ture. Her father remonstrated ; but she Avould not be
hindered. She took her seat in the coble, and got hold of
the rod ; then they shoved off and jumped in ; and pre-
sently she Avas paying out the line, to which AA^as attached
a " silver doctor " about as long as her forefinger. Casting,
of course, Avas beyond her skill, even had the wind been
less violent ; there Avas nothing for it but to trail the fly
through these rushing and tumblino- and hissing waves.
144 WHITE HE A THER
And at first everything seemed to go well enough. —
except that the coble rolled in the trough of the waves so
that every minute she expected to be pitched overboard.
They were drifting down the wind ; with the two oars held
hard in the water to retard the pace ; and the dancing
movement of the coble was rather enjoyable ; and there
was a kind of fierceness of sunlight and wind and hurrying
water that fired her brain. These poor people lingering on
the shore — what were they afraid of ? Why, was there ever
anything so delightful as this — the cry of the wind and the
rush of the water ; and everything around in glancing
lights and vivid colours ; for the lake was not all of that
intense and driven blue, it became a beautiful roseate
purple where the sunlight struck through the shallows on
the long banks of ruddy sand. She would have waved her
cap to those poor forlorn ones left behind, but that she felt
both hands must be left free in case of emergency.
But alas ! that temporary lull in which they had started
was soon over. A sharper squall than any before came
darkening and tearing across the loch ; then another and
another ; until a downright gale was blowing, and ap-
parently increasing every moment in violence. Whither
were they drifting ? They dared not run the coble ashore ;
all along those rocks a heavy sea was breaking white ; they
would have been upset and the boat stove in in a couple of
minutes.
" This'll never do, Johnnie, lad," she heard Eonald call
out. " We'll have to fight her back, and get ashore at the
top."
" Yery well ; we can try."
And then the next moment all the situation of affairs
seemed changed. There was no longer that too easy and
rapid surging along of the coble, but apparently an effort
to drive her through an impassable wall of water ; while
smash after smash on the bows carae the successive waves,
springing into the air, and coming down on the backs of
the men with a rattling volley of spray. Nay, Miss Carry,
too, got her Highland baptism — for all her crouching and
shrinking and ducking ; and her laughing face was running
wet ; and her eyes — which she would not shut, for they
were fascinated with the miniature rainbows that appeared
WILD TIMES 145
from time to time in the whirling spray — were half-
blinded. But she did not seem to care. There was a fierce
excitement and enjoyment in the struggle — for she could
see how hard the men were pulling. And which was getting
the better of the fight — this firm and patient endeavour, or
the fell power of wind and hurrying seas ?
And then something happened that made her heart
stand still : there was a shriek heard above all the noise
of the waves^and instinctively she caught up the rod and
found the line whirling out underneath her closed fingers.
What was it Ronald had exclaimed ? " Oh, thunder ! " or
some such thing ; but the next moment he had called to her
in a warning voice —
" Sit still— sit still — don't move — never mind the
fish — let him go — he'll break away with the fly and
welcome."
But it seemed to him cowardly advice too ; and she one
Ijehind her father in the score. He sent a glance forward
in a kind of desperation : no, there was no sign of the
squall moderating, and they Avere a long way from the head
of the loch. Moreover, the salmon, that was either a strong
beast or particularly lively, had already taken out a large
length of line, in the opposite direction.
"Do you think," said he hurriedly, "you could jump*
ashore and take the rod with you, if I put you in at the
point down there ? "
" Yes, yes ! " she said, eagerly enough.
"You win get wet."
" I don't care a cent about that— I will do whatever
you say "
He spoke a few words to the lad at the bow ; and sud-
denly shifted his oar thither.
" As hard as ye can, my lad."
And then he seized the rod from her, and began reeling
in the line with an extraordinary rapidity, for now they were
drifting down the loch again.
" Do ye see the point down there, this side the bay ? "
" Yes."
" There may be a little shelter there ; and we're going
to try to put ye ashore. Hold on to the rod, whatever ye
do ; and get a footing as fast as ye can."
L
146 WHITE HEATHER
" And then ? " she said. " What then ? What am I to
do ? " — for she was rather bewildered — the water still blind-
ing her eyes, the wind choking her breath.
" Hold on to the rod — and get in Avhat line ye can."
All this Avild, rapid, breathless thing seemed to take
place at once. He gave her the rod ; seized hold of his
oar again, and shifted it ; then they seemed to be turning
the bow of the boat towards a certain small promontory
where some birch trees and scattered stones faced the
rushing water. What was happening — or going to happen
— she knew not ; only that she was to hold on to the rod ;
and then there was a sudden grating of the bow on stones —
a smash of spray over the stern — the col)le wheeled round —
Ronald had leapt into the water — and, before she knew
where she was, he had seized her by the waist and swung
her ashore — and though she fell, or rather slipped and
quietly sat down on some rocks, she still clung to the rod,
and she hardly had had her feet wet ! This was what she
knew of her own position ; as for Eonald and the lad, they
paid no further heed to her, for they were seeking to get
the coble safe from the heavy surge ; and then again she
had her own affairs to attend to ; for the salmon, though it
was blissfully sulking after the first long rushes, might sud-
denly make up its mind for cantrips.
Then Ronald was by her side again — rather breathless.
" You've still got hold of him ? — that's right — but give
him his own time — let him alone — I don't want him in here
among the stones in rough water like this."
And then he said, rather shamefacedly —
" I beg your pardon for gripping ye as I had to do — I
— I thought we should have been over — and you would
have got sorely wet."
" Oh, that's all right," she said — seeking in vain amid the
whirling waste of waters for any sign or glimpse of the
salmon. " But you — you must be very wet — why did you
jump into the water ? "
" Oh, that's nothing — there, let him go ! — give him his
owm way !— now, reel in a bit— quicker — quicker — that'll
do, now\"
As soon as she had got the proper strain on the fish
again, she held out her right hand.
WILD TIMES 147
" Pull off my glove, please," she said — but still with her
eyes intent on the whirling waves.
Well, he unbuttoned the long gauntlet — though the
leather was all saturated with water ; but when he tried the
fingers, he could not get them to yield at all ; so he had
to pull down the gauntlet over the hand, and haul off the
glove by main force — then he put it in his pocket, for there
was no time to waste on ceremony.
There was a sudden steady pull on the rod ; and away
went the reel.
" Let him go — let him go — ah, a good fish, and a clean
fish too ! I hope he'll tire himself out there, before we
bring him in among the stones."
Moreover, the gale was abating somewhat, though the
big waves still kept chasing each other in and springing
high on the rocks. She became more eager about getting
the fish. Hitherto, she had l)een rather excited and be-
wildered, and intent only on doing what she was bid ; now
the prospect of really landing the salmon had become
joyful.
" But how shall we ever get him to come in here ? " she
said.
" He's bound to come, if the tackle holds ; and I'm
thinking he's well hooked, or he'd been off ere now, with
all this scurrying water."
She shifted the rod to her right hand ; her left arm was
beginning to feel the continued strain.
" Has the other boat been out ? " she asked.
" No, no," said he, and then he laughed. " It would be
a fine thing if we could take back a good fish. I know
well what they were thinking when we let the boat drift
down the second time — they were thinking we had got the
line aground, and were in trouble. And now they canna
see us — it's little they're thinking that we're playing a
fish." _ ^ ° ^ ^ °
" AVe " and " us " he said quite naturally ; and she, also,
had got into the way of calling him Ronald — as every
one did.
Well, that was a long and a stiff' fight with the salmon ;
for whenever it found that it was being towed into the
shallows, away it went again, with rush on rush, so that
L 2
148 WHITE HE A THER
Miss Carry had her work cut out for her, and had every
muscle of her arms and back aching.
"Twenty pounds, you'll see," she heard the lad Johnnie
say to his companion ; and Ronald answered him —
" I would rather tlian ten shillings it was."
Twenty pounds ! She knew that this was rather a rarity
on this loch — ten or eleven pounds being about the average ;
and if only she could capture this animal — in the teeth of
a gale too— and go back to the others in triumph, and
also with another tale to tell to Lily Selden ! She put more
and more strain on ; she had both hands firm on the butt ;
her teeth were set hard. Twenty pounds ! Or if the hook
should give way ? Or the line be cut on a stone ? Or the
fish break it with a spring and lash of its tail ? Fortu-
nately she knew but little of the many and heart-rending
accidents that happen in salmon-fishing, so that her fears
were fewer than her hopes ; and at last her heart beat
quickly Avlien she saw Ronald take the clip in his hand.
But he was very cautious ; and bade her take time ; and
spoke in an equable voice — just as if she were not growing
desperate, and wondering how long her arms would hold
out ! Again and again, by dint of tight reeling up and
putting on a deadly strain, she caught a glimpse of the
salmon ; and each of these times she thought she could
guide it sailingly towards the spot where Ronald was crouch-
ing down by the rocks ; and then again it would turn and
head away and disappear — taking the line very slowly now,
but still taking it. She took advantage of one of these
pauses in the fight to step farther back some two or three
yards ; this was at Ronald's direction ; and she obeyed
without understanding. But soon she knew the reason ;
for at last the salmon seemed to come floating in without
even an effort at refusal ; and as she was called on to give
him the butt firmly, she found she could almost drag him
right up and under Ronald's arm. And then there was a
loud " hurrah ! " from the lad John as the big silver fish
gleamed in the air ; and the next second it was lying there
on the withered grass and bracken. Miss Carry, indeed,
was so excited that she came near to breaking the top of
the rod ; she forgot that the struggle was over ; and still
held on tightly.
WILD TIMES 149
" Lower the top, Miss," the lad John said, " or ye can
put the rod down altogether,"
Indeed he took it from her to lay it down safely, and
right glad was she ; for she was pretty well exhausted by
this time, and fain to take a seat on one of the rocks
while they proceeded to weigh the salmon with a pocket-
scale.
" Seventeen pounds — and a beauty : as pretty a fish as
ever I saw come out of the loch."
" Well, we've managed it, Eonakl," said she, laughing,
" but I don't know how. There he is — sure ; but how we
got him out of that hurricane I can't tell."
" There was twice I thought ye had lost him," said he
gravely. " The line got desperately slack after ye jumped
ashore "
" Jumped ashore ? " she said. " Seems to me I was flung
ashore, like a sack of old clothes."
" But ye were not hurt ? " said he, glancing quickly at
her.
" No, no ; not a bit — nor even wet ; and if I had been,
tliat is enough for anything."
" Johnnie, lad, get some rushes, and put the fish in the
box. We'll have a surprise for them, when we get back,
I'm thinking."
" And can we get back ? " she said.
" We'll try, anyway — oh yes — it's no so bad now."
But stiU it was a stiff pull ; and they did not think it
worth while to put out the line again. Miss Carry devoted
her whole attention to sheltering herself from the spray ;
and was fairly successful. When, at length, they reached
the top of the loch and landed, they were treated to a little
mild sarcasm from those who had prudently remained on
shore ; but they said nothing ; the time was not yet come.
Then came the question as to whether all of them could
pull down the opposite side of the loch to the big rock ; for
there they would have shelter for lunch ; while here in the
open every gust that swooped down from the Clebrig slopes
caught them in mid career. Nay, just then the wind seemed
to moderate ; so they made all haste into the cobles ; and
in due time the whole party were landed at the rock, which,
with its broad ledges for seats, and its overhanging ferns,
I50 WHITE HEATHER
formed a very agreeable and sheltered resort. Of course,
there was but the one thing wanting. A fishing party at
lunch on the shores of a Highland loch is a very picturesque
thing ; but it is incomplete without some beautiful silver-
gleaming object in the foreground. There always is a bit
of grass looking as if it were just meant for that display ;
and when the little plateau is empty, the picture lacks its
chief point of interest.
" Well, you caught something if it wasn't a salmon," her
father said, glancing at her dripping hat and hair.
" Yes, we did," she answered innocently.
" You must be wet through in spite of your waterproof.
Sometimes I could not see the boat at all for the showers of
spray. Did you get much shelter where you stopped ? "
"Not much— a little."
" It was a pretty mad trick, your going out at all. Of
course Ronald only went to please you ; he must have
known you hadn't a ghost of a chance in a gale like that."
" Pappa dear," said she, "there's nothing mean about me.
There's many a girl I know would play it on her pa ; but
I'm not one of that kind. When I have three kings and a
pair "
" Stop it, Carry,"' said he angrily, " I'm tired of your
Texas talk. \Yhat do you mean ? "
" I only want to show my hand," she said sweetly ; and
she called aloud — " Johnnie ! "
The young lad jumped up from the group that were
cowering under the shelter of the stone dyke.
" Bring the fish out of the boat, please."
He went down to the coble, and got the salmon out of
the well ; and then, before bringing it and placing it on
the grass before the young lady, he held it up in triumph
for the gillies to see : the sarcasm was all the other way
now.
" You see, pa]i]m dear, you would have Ijct your boots
against it, wouldu't you ? " she remarked.
" But where did you get it ? " he said, in amazement. " I
was watching your lioat all the time. I did not see you
playing a fish."
" Because we got ashore as fast as we could, and had the
fight out there. But please, pappa, don't ask me anything
IVILD TIMES 151
more than that. I dou't know what happened. The wind
was choking me, and I was half bhnd, and the stones were
slippery and moving, and — and everything was in a kind of
uproar. Perhaps you don't think I did catch the salmon.
If my arms could speak, they could tell you a different tale
just at this minute ; and I shall have a hack to-morrow
morning, I know that. Seventeen pounds, Eonald says ;
and as prettily shaped a fish as he has ever seen taken out
of the lake."
" He is a handsome fish," her father admitted ; and then
he looked up impatiently at the wind-driven sky. " There
is no doubt there are plenty of fish in the lake, if the
weather would only give us a chance. But it's either a dead
calm or else a raging gale. Why, just look at that ! "
For at this moment a heavier gust than ever struck
down on the water— and widened rapidly out — and tore
the tops of the waves into spray — until a whirling gray
cloud seemed to be flying over to the other shores. The
noise and tumult of the squall were indescribable ; and
then, in five or six minutes or so, the loch began to reappear
again, black and sullen, from under that mist of foam ; and
the wind subsided — only to keep moaning and howling as
if meditating further springs. There was not much use
in hurrying lunch. The gillies had comfortably lit their
pipes. Two of the younger lads were trying their strength
and skill at "putting the stone ; " the others merely lay and
looked on ; an occasional glance at the loch told them they
need not stir.
It was not jealousy of his daughter having caught a fish
that made Mr. Hodson impatient ; it was the waste of time.
He could not find refuge in correspondence ; he had no
book with him ; while gazing at scenery is a feeble substitute
for salmon-fishing, if the latter be your aim. And then
again the loch was very tantalising — awaking delusive hopes
every few minutes. Sometimes it would become almost
quiet — save for certain little black puff's of wind that fell
vertically and widened and widened out ; and they would
be on the point of summoning the men to the cobles when,
with a low growl and then a louder roar, the gale would be
rushing down again, and the storm witches' white hair
streaming across the suddenly darkened waters.
152 WHITE HEATHER
" ' Ben Clebrig— the Hill of the Playing Tront,' " said
he peevishly. " I don't believe a word of it. Why, the
Celtic races were famous for giving characteristic names to
places — describing the things accurately. ' The Hill of the
Playing Trout ! ' Now, if they had called it ' The Hill of
the Infernal Whirlwinds,' or ' The Hill of Blasts and
Hurricanes,' or something of that kind, it would have been
nearer the mark. And this very day last year, according to
the list that Eonald has, they got nine salmon."
" Perhaps we may get the other eight yet, pappa," said she
lightly.
x^nd indeed, shortly after this, the day seemed to be
getting a little quieter ; and her father decided upon a start.
The men came along to the coble, llonald said to her —
" We will let them get well ahead of us ; it's their turn
now." And so he and she and the lad John remained on
the shore, looking after the departing boat, and in all
sincerity wishing them good luck.
Presently she said " What's that ? "—for something had
struck her sharply on the cheek. It was a heavy drop of
rain, that a swirl of wind had sent round the side of the
rock ; and now she became aware that everywhere beyond
their shelter there was a loud pattering, becoming every
moment heavier and heavier, while the wind rose and rose
into an ominous high screeching. And then all round
there was a hissing and a roar ; and from under the rock
she looked forth on the most extraordinary phantasmagoria
- — for now the sheets of rain as they fell and broke on the
water were caught by the angry mountain blasts and torn
into spindrift, so that the whole lake seemed to be a mass
of white smoke. And her father ? — well, she could see
something like the ghost of a boat and two or three phan-
tom figures ; but whether they were trying to fight their
way, or letting everything go before the tempest, or what,
she could not make out — for the whirling white rain-smoke
made a mere spectral vision of them. Eonald came to her.
" That's bad luck," said he composedly.
" What ? " she asked, quickly. " They are not in
danger ? "
" Oh no," said he. " But they've got both minnows
aground, as far as I caii make out,"
WILD TIMES 153
" But what about that ? why don't they throw the rods
and everything overboard, and get into safety ? "
" Oh, they'll try to save the minnows, I'm thinking."
And they did succeed in doing so — after a long and
strenuous struggle ; and then Mr. Hodson was glad to have
them row him back to the shelter of the rock. Apparently
his success with regard to the minnows had put him into
quite a good humour.
" Carry," said he, " I'm not an obstinate man— I know
when I've got enough. I will allow that this battle is too
much for me. I'm going home. I'm going to walk."
"Then I will go with you, pappa," she said promptly.
" You may stay if you choose," said he. " You may stay
and take my share as well as your own. But I'm going to
see what newspapers the mail brought this morning ; and
there may be letters."
" And I have plenty to do also," said she. " I mean to
call on that pretty Miss Douglas I told you of — the Doctor's
daughter. And do you think she would come along aud
dine with us ? — or must I ask her mother as well ? "
" I don't know what the society rules are here," he
answered. " I suspect you will have to find out."
"And Ronald — do you think he would come in aud
spend the evening with us ? I can't find out anything
about him — it's all phantom-minnows and things Avhen he
is in the boat."
" Well, I should like that too," said he : for he could not
forsake the theories which he had so fro(|ueatly propounded
to her.
And so they set forth for the inn, leaving the men to get
the boats back when they could ; and after a long and
brave battling with rain and wind they achieved shelter at
last. And then Miss Carry had to decide what costume
would be most appropriate for an afternoon call in the
Highlands — on a day filled with pulsating hurricanes.
Her bodice of blue with its regimental gold braid she might
fairly adopt — for it could be covered over and protected ;
but her James I. hat with its gray and saffron plumes she
had to discard — she had no wish to see it suddenly whirling
away in the direction of Ben Loyal.
1 54 WHITE HEATHER
CHAPTER XVI.
DREAMS AND VISIONS.
Miss Hodson was in no kind of anxiety or embarrassment
about this visit ; she had quite sufficient reliance on her
own tact ; and when, going along to the Doctor's cottage,
she found Meenie alone in that little room of hers, she
explained the whole situation very prettily and simply and
naturally. Two girls thrown together in this remote and
solitary place, with scarcely any one else to talk with ; why
should they not know each other ? That was the sum and
substance of her appeal ; with a little touch here and there
about her being a stranger, and not sure of the ways and
customs of this country that she found herself in. And
then Meenie, who was perhaps a trifle overawed at first by
this resplendent visitor, was almost inclined to smile at the
notion that any apology was necessary, and said in her gentle
and quiet way —
" Oh, but it is very kind of you. And if you had lived
in one or two Scotch parishes, you would know that the
minister's family and the doctor's family are supposed to
know every one."
She did not add " and be at every one's disposal " — for
that might have seemed a little rude. However, the intro-
duction was over and done with ; and j\Iiss Carry set her-
self to work to make herself agreeable — which she could
do very easily when she liked. As yet she kept the
invitation to dinner in the background ; talked of all kinds
of things — the salmon-fishing, the children's soiree she had
heard of ; Ronald ; Ronald's brother the minister ; and her
wonder that Ronald should be content with his present
position ; and always those bright dark eyes seemed to be
scanning everything in the room with a pleased curiosity,
and then again and again returning to JMeenie's face, and
her dress, and her way of wearing her hair, with a frank
scrutiny which made the country mouse not a little shy in
the presence of this ornate town mouse. For Miss Carry,
with her upper wrappings discarded, was not only very
prettily attired, but also she had about her all kinds of
DREAMS AND VISIONS 155
nick-nacks and bits of finery that seemed to have come
from many lands, and to add to her foreign look. Of
course, a woman's glance — even the glance of a shy High-
land girl — takes note of these things ; and they seemed
but part of the unusual character and appearance of this
stranger, who seemed so delicate and fragile, and yet was
full of an eager vivacity and talkativeness, and whose soft,
large, black eyes, if they seemed to wander quickly and
restlessly from one object to another, were clearly so full of
kindness and a wish to make friends. And very friendly
indeed she was ; and she had nothing but praise for the
Highlands, and Highland scenery, and Highland manners,
and even the Highland accent.
" I suppose I have an accent myself ; but of course I
don't know it," she rattled on. " Even at home they say
our western accent is pretty bad. "Well, I suppose I have
got it ; but auyway I am not ashamed of it, and I am
not in a hurry to change it. I have heard of American
girls in Europe who were most afraid to speak lest they
should be found owi— found out ! AVhy, I don't see that
English girls try to hide their accent, or want to copy any
one else ; and 1 don't see why American girls should be
ashamed of having an American accent. Your accent, now ;
I have been trying to make out what it is, but I can't. It
is very pretty ; and not the least like the English way of
talking ; but I can't just make out where the difference is."
For this young lady had a desperately direct way of
addressing any one. She seemed to perceive no atmosphere
of conventionality between person and person ; it was brain
to brain, direct ; and no paiLsing to judge of the effect of
sentences.
" I know my mother says that I speak in the Highland
way," ^leenie said, with a smile.
" There now, I declare," said ]\Iiss Hodson, " that did not
sound like an English person speaking, and yet I could not
tell you where the difference was. I really think it is more
manner than accent. The boatmen and the girls at the
inn — they all speak as if they were aiixious to please you."
"Then it cannot be a very disagreeable accent," said
Meenie, laughing in her quiet way.
" No, no ; I like it. I like it very much. Eonald now,
156 WHITE HEATHER
has nothing of that ; he is positive and dogmatic — I would
say gruff in his way of talking, if he was not so obliging.
But he is very obliging and good-natured ; there is just
nothing he won't do for us — and we are perfect strangers to
him."
And so she prattled on, apparently quite satisfied that
now they were good friends ; while Meenie had almost
forgotten her shyness in the interest with which she lis-
tened to this remarkable young lady who had been all over
the world and yet took her travelling so much as a matter of
course. Then Miss Hodson said —
" You know my father and I soon exhaust our remarks
on the events of the day when we sit down to dinner ;
and we were wondering whether you Avould take pity on
our solitude and come along and dine with us this evening.
"Will you ? I wish you would — it Avonld be just too kind of
you."
Meenie hesitated.
" I would like very well," said she, " but — but my mother
and the lad have driven away to Tongue to fetch my father
home— and it may be late before they are back "
"The greater reason why you should come — why, to
think of your sitting here alone ! I will come along for
you myself. And if you are afraid of having too much of
the star-spangled banner, we'll get somebody else in who is
not an American ; I mean to ask Ronald if he will come in
and spend the evening with us — or come in to dinner as well,
if he has time "
Xow the moment she uttered these words she perceived
the mistake she had made. ]\Ieenie all at once looked
troubled, conscious, apprehensive — there was a touch of extra
colour in her face : perhaps she was annoyed that she was
betraying this embarrassment.
" I think some other night, if you please," the girl said,
in a low voice, and with her eyes cast down, " some other
night, when mamma is at home — I would like to ask her
first."
"Class distinctions," said Miss Carry to herself, as she
regarded this embarrassment with her observant eyes.
" Fancy class distinctions in a little community like this
—in mid-v/inter too ! Of course the Doctor's dauo-liter
DREAMS AND VISIONS 157
iliiist not sit down to dinner with Lord Ailine's head
keeper."
But she could not oiler to leave Eonald out — that would
but have added to the girl's confusiou, whatever was the
cause of it. She merely said lightly —
" Very well, then, some other evening you will take pity
on us — -and I hope before I go to Paris. And then I
want you to let me come in now and again and have a
cup of tea with you ; and I get all the iUustrated periodicals
sent me from home — with the fashion-plates, you know."
She rose.
" What a nice room — it is all your own, I suppose ? "
" Oh yes : that is why it is so untidy."
" But I like to see a room look as if it was being used.
"Well, now, what are these ? " she said, going to the mantel-
shelf, where a row of bottles stood.
" These are medicines."
"Why, you dou't look sick," the other said, turning
suddenly.
" Oh no. These are a few simple things that my father
leaves with me when he goes from home — they are for
children mostly — and the people have as much faith in me
as in anybody," Meenie said, with a shy laugh. " Papa
says I can't do any harm with them, in any case ; and the
people are pleased."
" Hush, bush, dear, you must not tell me any secrets of
that kind," said Miss Carry gravely ; and then she proceeded
to get on her winter wraps.
]\Icenie went downstairs with her, and at the door would
see that she was all properly protected and buttoned up about
the throat.
" For it is very brave of you to come into Sutherlandshire
in the winter," said she ; " we hardly expect to see any one
until the summer is near at hand."
" Then you will let me come and have some tea with you
at times, will you not ? "
" Oh yes — if you will be so kind."
They said good-bye and shook hands ; and then Miss
Carry thought that Meenie looked so pretty and so shy, and
had so much appealing gentleness and friendliness in the
clear, transparent, timid blue-gray eyes, that she kissed her,
1 5 8 WHITE HE A THER
and said " Good-bye, dear," again, and went out into the dusk
and driving wind of the afternoon, entirely well pleased with
her visit.
But it seemed as though she were about to be disap-
pointed in both directions ; for when she called in at
Ronald's cottage he was not there ; and when she returned
to the inn, he was not to be found, nor could any one say
whither he had gone. She and her father dined by them-
selves. She did not say why Meenie had declined to come
along and join them ; but she had formed her own opinion on
that point ; and the more she thought of it, the more absurd
it seemed to her that this small handful of people living all
by themselves in the solitude of the mountains should think
it necessary to observe social distinctions. Was not Ronald,
she asked herself, fit to associate with any one ? But then
she remembered that the Highlanders were said to be very
proud of their descent ; and she had heard something about
Glengask and Orosay ; and she resolved that in the future
she would be more circumspect in the matter of invitations.
About half-past eight or so the pretty Xelly appeared with
the message that Ronald was in the inn, and had heard that
he was being asked for.
" What will I tell him ye want, sir ? " she said, naturally
assuming that Ronald was to be ordered to do something.
" Give him my compliments," said Mr. Hodson, "and say
we should be obliged if he would come in and smoke a pipe
and have a chat with us, if he has nothing better to do,"
But Nelly either thought this was too much politeness to
1)6 thrown away on the handsome keeper, or^ else she had
some small private quarrel with him ; for all she said to him,
and that brusquely, was —
" Ronald, you're wanted in the parlour."
Accordingly, when he came along the passage, and tapped
at the door and opened it, he stood there uncertain, cap in
hand. Mr. Hodson had to repeat the invitation — explain-
ing that they had wanted him to have some dinner with
them, but that he could not be found ; and then Ronald,
with less of embarrassment than might have been expected —
for he knew these two people bettor now — shut the door,
and laid down his cap, and modestly advanced to the chair
that Mr. Hodson had drawn in towards one side of the big
Dreams and visions is9
fireplace. Miss Carry was seated apart on a sofa, apparently
engaged in some sort of knitting work ; but her big black
eyes could easily be raised when there was need, and she could
join in the conversation when she chose.
At first that was mostly about the adjacent shooting,
which Mr. Hodson thought of taking for a season merely
by way of experiment ; and the question was how long be
would in that case have to be away from his native country.
This naturally took them to America, and eventually and
alas ! to politics — which to Miss Carry was but as the eating
of chopped straw. However, Mr. Hodson (if you could keep
the existence of lords out of his reach) was no very violent
polemic ; and moreover, whenever the Bird of Freedom
began to clap its wings too loudly, was there not on the sofa
there a not inattentive young lady to interfere with a little
gentle sarcasm ? Sometimes, indeed, her interpositions
were both uncalled for and unfair ; and sometimes they were
not quite clearly intelligible. When, for example, they were
talking of the colossal statue of Liberty enlightening the
World which the French Eepublic proposed to present to
the American licpublic to be set up in New York Bay, she
pretended not to know in which direction— east or west — '
the giant figure was to extend her light and liberty giving
arm ; and her objection to her father's definition of the
caucus system as a despotism tempered by bolting, was a still
darker saying of which Ronald could make nothing whatever.
But what of that ? Whatever else was veiled to him, this
was clear — that her interference was on his behalf, so that
he should not be overpressed in argument or handicapped for
lack of information ; and he was very grateful to her,
naturally ; and far from anxious to say anything against a
country that had sent him so fair and so generous an ally.
But, after all, was not this laudation of the institutions
of the United States meant only as a kindness — as an
inducement to him to go thither, and better his position ?
There was the field where the race was to the swiftest,
where the best man got to the front, and took the prize
which he had fairly won. There no accident of birth, no
traditional usage, was a hindrance. The very largeness of
the area gave to Ihe individual largeness of view.
"Yes," said Miss Carry (luit they took no heed of her
i6o WHITE HEATHER
impertinence) " in our country a bar-tender mixes drinks
with his mind fixed on Niagara."
Naj'', the very effort to arouse dissatisfaction in the bosom
of this man who seemed all too well contented with his
circumstances was in itself meant as a kindness. Why should
he be content ? Why should he not get on ? It was all
very well to have health and strength and high spirits, and
to sing tenor songs, and be a favourite with the farm-lasses ;
but that could not last for ever. He was throwing away
his life. His chances were going by him. Why, at his age,
what had so-and-so done, and what had so-and-so not done ?
And how had they started ? What did they owe to fortune
— what, rather, to their own resolution and brain ?
" Ronald, my good fellow," said his Mentor, in the most
kindly way, " if I could only get you to breathe the atmo-
sphere of Chicago for a fortnight, I am pretty sure you
wouldn't come back to stalk deer and train dogs for Lord
Ailine or any other lordship."
Miss Carry said nothing ; but she pictured to herself
Ronald passing down Madison Street — no longer, of course,
in his weather-tanned stalking costume, but attired as the
other young gentlemen to be found there ; and going into
Burke's Hotel for an oyster luncheon ; and coming out
again chewing a toothpick ; and strolling on to the Grand
Pacific to look at the latest telegrams. And she smiled
(though, indeed, she herself had not been behindhand in
urging him to get out of his present estate and better his
fortunes), for there was something curiously incongruous in
that picture ; and she was quite convinced that in Wabash
Avenue he would not look nearly as handsome nor so much
at his ease as now he did.
" I am afraid," said he, with a laugh, " if ye put me down
in a place like that, I should be sorely at a loss to tell what
to turn my hand to. It's rather late in the day for me to
begin and learn a new trade."
" Nonsense, man," the other said. " You have the know-
ledge already, if you only knew how to apply it."
" The knowledge ? " Ronald repeated, with some surprise.
Most of his book-reading had been in the field of English
poetry ; and he did not see how he could carry that to
market.
DREAMS AND VISIONS i6i
Mr. Hodson took out his note-book ; and began to look
over the leaves.
"And you don't need to go as far as Chicago, if you
would rather not," said he.
*■ If you do," said Miss Carry flippantly, " mind you don't
eat any of our pork. Pappa dear, do you know why a wise
man doesn't eat pork in Illinois 1 Don't you know ? It is
because there is a trichinosis worth t\vo of that."
Eouald laughed ; but her father was too busy to attend
to such idiotcy.
" Even if you would rather remain in the old country,"
he continued, " and enjoy an out-of-door life, why should
YOU not make use of what you already know ? I have
heard you talk about the draining of soil, and planting of
trees, and so on : well, look here now. I have been in-
quiring into that matter ; and I find that the Highland
and Agricultural Society of Scotland grants certificates for
proficiency in the theory and practice of forestry. Why
shouldn't you try to gain one of those certificates ; and
then apply for the post of land-steward ? I'll bet you could
manage an estate as well as most of them who are at it —
especially one of those Highland sporting estates. And
then you would become a person of importance ; and not
be at any lordship's beck and call ; you would have an
opportunity of beginning to make a fortune, if not of
making one at once ; and if you wanted to marry, there
would be a substantial future for you to look to."
" And then you would come over and see us at Chicago,"
said Miss Carry. " "We live on North Park Avenue ; and
you would not feel lonely for want of a lake to look at —
we've a pretty big one there."
" But the first step — about the certificate ? " said Eonald
doubtfully — though, indeed, the interest that these two
kindly people showed in him was very delightful, and he
was abundantly grateful, and perhaps also a trifle bewildered
by these ambitious and seductive dreams.
" Well, I should judge that would be easy enough," con-
tinued Mr. Hodson, again referring to his note-book in
that methodical, slow-mannered way of his. " You would
have to go to Edinburgh or Glasgow, and attend some
classes, I should imagine, for they want you to know sonie*
M
1 62 WHITE HEATHER
thiug of surveying and geology and chemistry and botany.
Some of these yon could read up here — for you have plenty
of leisure, and the subjects are just at your hand. I don't
see any difficulty about that. I suppose you have saved
something now, that you could maintain yourself when you
were at the classes ? "
" I could manage for a while," was the modest answer.
" I have myself several times thought of buying an estate
in the Highlands," Mr. Hodson continued, " if I found that
I have not forgotten altogether how to handle a gun ; and
if I did so, I would give you the management right off.
But it would not do for you to risk such a chance ; what
you want is to qualify yourself, so that you can take your
stand on your own capacity, and demand the market value
for it."
Well, it was a flattering proposal ; and this calm, shrewd-
lieaded man seemed to consider it easily practicable — and
as the kind of thing that a young man in his country would
naturally make for and achieve ; while the young lady on
the sofa had now thrown aside the pretence of knitting,
and was regarding him with eloquent eyes, and talking as
if it were all settled and attained, and Ronald already be-
come an enterprising and prosperous manager, whom tliey
should come to see when they visited Scotland, and who was
certainly to be their guest when he crossed the Atlantic.
No wonder his head was turned. Everything seemed so
easy — why, both she and her father appeared to be sur-
rounded, when at home, with men who had begun with
nothing and made fortunes. And then he would not be
torn away altogether from the hills. He might still have a
glimpse of the dun deer from time to time ; there would
still be the dewy mornings by lake and strath and mountain-
tarn, with the stumbling on a bit of white heather, and the
picking it and wearing it for luck. iVnd if he had to bid
farewell to Clebrig and Ben Loyal and Ben Hope and
Bonnie Strath-Xaver — well, there were other districts far
more beautiful than that, as well he knew, where he would
still hear the curlew whistle, and the grouse-cock crow in
the evening, and the great stags bellow their challenge
through the mists of the dawn. And as for a visit to
Chicago ? — and a view of great cities, and harbours, and
DREAMS AND VISIONS 163
the wide activities of the world ? — surely all that was a
wonderful dream, if only it might come true !
" I'm sm-e I beg; yom- pardon," said he, rising, " for
letting ye talk all this time about my small affairs. I think
you'll have a quieter day to-morrow ; the wind has backed
to the east ; and that is a very good wind for this loch.
And I've brought the minnows that I took to mend ; the
kelts are awful beasts for destroying the minnows."
He put the metal bos on the mantelpiece. They would
have had him stay longer — and Miss Carry, indeed, called
reproaches down on her head that she had not asked him
to smoke nor offered him any kind of hospitality — but he
begged to be excused. And so he went out and got home
through the cold dark night — to his snug little room and
the peat-iire, and his pipe and papers and meditations.
A wonderful dream, truly — -and all to be achieved by the
reading up of a few subjects of some of which he already
knew more than a smattering. And why should he not
try ? It seemed the way of the world — at least, of the
world of which he had been learning so much from these
strangers — to strive and push forward and secure, if possible,
means and independence. Why should he remain at Inver-
Mudal ? The old careless happiness had fled from it.
Meenie had passed him twice now — each time merely giving
liim a formal greeting, and yet, somehow, as he imagined,
with a timid trouble in her eyes, as if she Avas sorry to do
that. Her superintendence of ]\Iaggie's lessons was more
restricted now ; and never by any chance did she come near
the cottage when he was within or about. The old friend-
liness was gone ; the old happy companionship — however
restricted and respectful on his side ; the old, frank appeal
for his aid and counsel when any of her own small schemes
had to be undertaken. And was she in trouble on his
account ? — and had the majesty of Glengask and Orosay
been invoked ? Well, that possibility need harrow no
human soul. If his acquaintanceship — or companionship,
\\\ a measure — with Meenie was considered undesirable, there
was an easy way out of the difficulty. Acquaintanceship or
companionship, whichever it might be, it would end — it
had ended.
And then again, he said to himself, as he sate at the
M 2
1 64 WHITE HEATHER
little table and turned over those leaves that contained
many a gay morning song and many a midnight musing —
but all about Meenie, and the birds and flowers and hills
and streams that knew her — soon she would be away from
Inver-Mudal, and what would the place be like then ?
Perhaps when the young corn was springing she would take
her departure ; and what would the world be like when she
had left ? He could see her seated in the little carriage ;
her face not quite so bright and cheerful as usually it was ;
her eyes — that were sometimes as blue as a speedwell in
June, and sometimes gray like the luminous clear gray of
the morning sky — perhaps clouded a little ; and the sensitive
lips trembhng ? The children would be there, to bid her
good-bye. And then away through the lonely glens she
would go, by hill and river and wood, till they came in
sight of the western ocean, and Loch Inver, and the great
steamer to carry her to the south. Meenie would be away
— and Inver-Mudal, tlmi ?
Small birds in the corn
Are coicering and quailing :
0 my lost love.
Whence are you sailing ?
Fierce the gale hJows
Adown the bleak river;
The valley is empty
For ever and ever.
Out on the seas,
The night ivinds are rvailing ;
0 my lost love.
Whence are you sailing ? _
CHAPTER XVII.
A FURTHEE DISCOVERY.
It can hardly be wondered at that these suddenly presented
ambitious projects — this call to be up and doing, and getting
forward in the general race of the world — should add a
new interest and fascination, in his eyes, to the society of
the American father and daughter who had wandered into
these distant wilds. And perhaps, after all, he had been
rnerely wasting his time and throwing away his life ?
A FURTHER DISCOVERY 165
That solitary, contented, healthy and happy existence was
a mistake — au idle dream — an anachronism, even ? The
common way of the world was right ; and that, as he heard
of it in the echoes brought by these strangers from without,
was all a pushing and striving and making the most of
opportunities, until the end was reached — independence
and ease and wealth ; the power of choosing this or that
continent for a residence ; the radiant happiness and glow
of success. And then it all seemed so easy and practicable
when he heard these two talking about their friends and the
fortunes they had made ; and it seemed still more easy —
and a far more desirable and beautiful thing — when it was
Aliss Carry herself who was speakiug, she seated alone in
the stern of the boat, her eyes — that had a kind of surface
darkness and softness, like blackberries wet with rain —
helping out her speech, and betraying an open friendliness,
and even conferring a charm on her descriptions of that far-
off pork-producing city of the west. Mr. Hodson, as he
sate upright in his easy-cbair before the fire, spoke slowly
and sententiously, and without any visible enthusiasm ;
Miss Carry, in the stern of the coble, her face all lit up with
the blowing winds and the sunlight, talked with far greater
vivacity, and was obviously deeply interested in the future
of her companion. And it had come to this now, that,
as she sate opposite him, he quite naturally and habitually
regarded her eyes as supplementing her meaning ; he no
longer rather shrank from the directness of her look ; he no
longer wished that she would sit the other way, and attend
to the tops of the salmon-rods. As for their speech together,
the exceeding frankness of it and lack of conventionality
arose from one or two causes, but no doubt partly from
tills — that during their various adventures on the loch there
was no time for the observance of studied forms. It was
" Do this " and " Do that," on his part — sometimes with
even a sharp word of monition ; and with her it was " Will
that do, Ronald ? " or again, — when she was standing up in
fell encounter with her unseen enemy, both hands engaged
with the rod — " Ronald, tie my cap down, or the wind will
blow it away — No, no, the other strings — underneath ! "
Indeed, on the morning after the evening on which
they had been urging him to make a career for himself,
x66 WHITE HEATHER
there was not much chance of any calm discussion of that
subject. The proceedings of the day opened in a remark-
ably lively manner. For one thing the wind had backed
still farther during the night, and Avas now blowing briskly
from the north, bringing with it from time to time smart
snow showers that blackened the heavens and earth for a
feAV minutes and then sped on, leaving the peaks and
shoulders and even the lower spurs of the hills all a
gleaming Avhitc in the Avintry sunlight.
" Salmon-fishiug in a snow-storm — well, I declare ! " said
she, as she stood on the shore of the lake, watching him
putting the rods together.
" The very best time," said he, in his positive way (for he
had assumed a kind of authority over her, whereas with
Meenie he was always reserved and distant and timidly
gentle). " None better. I would just like to find a foot of
snow on the ground, right down to the edge of the loch ;
and the flakes falling so thick ye couldna see a dozen yards
ahead of ye."
" Do you know where I should be then ? " she retorted.
" I should be Avarming my toes in front of Mrs. Murray's
peat-fire."
" Xot one bit," said he, just as positively. " If ye heard
the salmon Avere taking, ye'd be down here fast enough, I'm
thinking."
And presently it seeme'd as if this early start of theirs
AA'as to be rcAA'arded, for scarcely Avere both lines out — and
Miss Carry AA'as just settling herself down for a little quiet
talk, and AA'as pulling the collar of her ulster higher OA'er her
ears (for the Avind was somewhat cold) — Avhen a sudden
tugging and straining at one of the rods, followed by a
sharp scream of the reel, upset all these little plans. She
made a dash at the rod and raised it quickly.
" That's a good fish — that's a good fish ! " Eonald cried,
Avitli his mouth set hard. " Now let's see if Ave canna hold
on to this one. Let him go, lassie ! — I beg your pardon — ■
let him go — let him go — that's right — a clean fish, and a
beauty ! "
Beauty or no, the salmon had no hesitation about shoAV-
ing himself, at least : for noAV he began to lash the surface
of the water, some fifty yards away, not springing into the
A FURTHER DISCO t^ERY 167
air, but merely beating tlie waves with head and body and
tail to get rid of this unholy thing that he had pursued and
gripped. Then down he went with a mighty plunge — the
reel whirring out its shrill cry, and Miss Carry's gloves
suffering in consequence — and there he sulked ; so that
they backed the boat agam, and again she got in some of
the line. What was the sound that came across the lake
to them, in the face of the northerly wind ?
" They're waving a handkerchief to ye, Miss Hodson,"
said he, " from the other boat."
" Oh, bother," said she (for the strain of a heavy salmon
and forty yards of line was something on her arms), "here,
take the handkerchief from this breast-pocket, and Avave it
l)ack to them — stand up beside me — they won't see the
ditference "
He did as he was bid ; apparently she paid little atten-
tion ; she seemed wholly bent on getting the fish. And
clearly the salmon had somewhat exhausted himself with
his first escapades ; he now lay deep down, not stirring an
inch ; so that she got in her line until there was not more
than twenty yards out : then they waited.
And meanwhile this strange thing that was overtaking
them ? The bright, windy, changeable day, with its gleam-
ing snow-slope.5 and sunlit straths and woods darkened by
passing shadows — seemed to lie slowly receding from them,
and around them came a kind of hushed and stealthy
gloom. And then the wind stirred again ; the gusts came
sharper and colder ; here and there a wet particle stung the
cheek or the back of the hand. Of course, she was in a
death-struggle with a salmon ; she could not heed. And
presently the gathering blackness all around seemed to
lireak into a soft bewilderment of snow ; large, soft, woolly
Hakes came driving along before the wind ; all the world
was shut out from them ; they could see nothing but a
short space of livid dark water, and feel nothing but this
choking silent thing in the air. And then again, with a
magical rapidity, the heavens and the earth seemed to open
above and. around them ; the clouds swept on ; there was
a great deep of dazzling blue suddenly revealed in the sky
overhead ; and all the dancing waters of the lake, from the
boat to the farthest shores, were one flashing and Inpping
i68 WHITE HEATHER
mass of keeu, pure cobalt, absolutely bewildering to the
eyes. The joy of that radiant colour, after the mystery and
the darkness I And then the sunlight broke out ; and
Clebrig had a touch of gold along his mighty shoulders ;
and Ben Loyal's snow-slopes were white against the brilliant
blue ; and it seemed as if the fairest of soft summer skies
were shining over Bonnie Strath-ISTaver.
To her it meant that she could see a little more clearly.
She shook the snowflakes from her hair.
" Ronald, you are sure it is not a kelt ? "
" Indeed I am. There's nothing of the kelt about that
one."
" If it is," said she, " I'll go home and tell my ma."
She was clearly feeling a little more secure about this
one. And she did capture the creature in the end, though
it was after a long and arduous struggle. For he was a
strong fish — fresh run up from the sea, and heavy for his
size ; and again and again, and a dozen times repeated,
he would make rushes away from the boat just as the}
thought he was finally showing the white feather. It was
the toughest fight she had had ; but practice was hardening
her muscles a little ; and she had acquired a little dexterity
in altering her position and shifting the strain. By this
time the other boat was coming round.
" Stick to him, Carry ! " her father cried. " No Secesh
tactics allowed : hold on to him ! "
The next moment Eonald had settled all that by a
smart scoop of the clip ; and there in the bottom of the
boat lay a small-headed deep-shouldered fish of just over
sixteen pounds — Eonald pinning him down to get the
minnow out of his jaw, and the lad Johnnie grinning all
over his ruddy face Avith delight.
Miss Carry looked on in a very calm and business-like
fashion ; though in reality her heart was beating quickly —
with gladness and exultation. And then, Avith the same
business-like calmness, she took from the deep pocket of
her ulster a flask that she had borrowed from Mr. Murray.
"Eonald," said she, "you must drink to our good
luck."
She handed him the flask. She appeared to be quite to
the manner born now. You would not have imagined
A FURTHER DISCOVERY 169
that her heart was beating so quickly, or her hands just
a nttle bit nervous and shaky after that prolonged
excitement.
Good luck seemed to follow the Duke's boat this morning.
Within the next three quarters of an hour they had got hold
of another salmon — just over ten pounds. And it was
barely lunch time when they had succeeded in landing a
third — this time a remarkably handsome fish of fifteen
pounds. She now thought she had done enough. She
resumed her seat contentedly ; there was no elation visible
on her face. But she absolutely forbade the putting out of
the lines again.
" Look here, Eonald," she said seriously. " What do you
think I came here for ? Do you think I came here to
leave my bones in a foreign land ? I am just about dead
now. My arms are not made of steel. AVe can go ashore,
and get lunch unpacked ; the other boat will follow quickly
enough. I tell you my arms and wrists have just had about
enough for one morning."
And a very snag and merry little luncheon-party they
made there — down by the side of the lapping water, and
under the shelter of a wood of young birch-trees. For the
other boat had brought ashore two salmon ; so that the
five handsome fish, laid side by side on a broad slab of
rock, made an excellent show. Miss Carry said nothing
about her arms aching ; but she did not seem to be in as
great a hurry as the others to set to work again. No ; she
enjoyed the rest ; and, observing that Eonald had finished
his lunch, she called to him, under the pretext of wanting
to know something about sending the fish south. This led
on to other things ; the three of them chatting together con-
tentedly enough, and Ronald even making bold enough to
light his pipe. A very friendly little group this was — away
by themselves there in these wintry solitudes — with the wide
blue waters of the lake in front of them, and the snows of
Clebrig white against the sky. And if he were to go away
from these familiar scenes, might he not come back again
in the after days ? And with the splendid power of remain-
ing or going, just as he pleased ? — just as these friendly
folk could, who spoke so lightly of choosing this or that
quarter of the globe for their temporary habitation ? Yes,
170 WHITE HEATHER
tliere were many things that money could do : these two
strangers, now, could linger here at Inver-Mudal just as
long as the salmon-hshing continued to amuse them ; or
they could cross over to Paris, and see the wonders there ;
or they could go away back to the great cities and harbours
and lakes and huge hotels that they spoke so much about.
He listened with intensest interest, and with a keen imagina-
tion. And was this part of the shore around them — with
its rocks and brushwood and clear water — really like the
shores of Lake George, where she was so afraid of rattle-
snakes ? She said she would send him some photographs
of Lake Michigan.
Then in the boat in the afternoon she quite innocently
remarked that she Avished he was going back home with
them ; for that he would find the voyage across the Atlantic
so amusing. She described the people coming out to say
good-bye at Liverpool ; and the throwing of knives and
pencil-cases and what not as farewell gifts from the steamer
to the tender, and vice versa, ; she described the scamper
round Queenstown and the waiting for the mails ; then the
long days on the wide ocean, with all the various occnpa-
tions, and the concerts in the evening, and the raffles in
the smoking-room (this from hearsay) ; then the crowding
on deck for the first glimpse of the American coast-line ;
and the gliding over the shallows of Sandy Hook ; and the
friends who would come steaming down the Bay to wave
handkerchiefs and welcome them home. She seemed to
regard it as a quite natural and simple thing that he should
be of this party ; and that, after landing, her father should
take him about and " see him through," as it were : and if
her fancy failed to carry out these forecasts, and to picture
him walking along Dearborn Avenue or driving out with
them to Washington Park, it Avas that once or twice ere
now she had somehow arrived at the notion that Konald
Strang and Chicago Avould prove to be incongruous. Or
was it some instinctive feeling that, however natural and
fitting their friendship might be in this remote little place
in the Highlands, it might give rise to awkwardness
over there ? Anyhow, that could not prevent her father
from seeing that Eonald had ample introductions and
tfuidance when he landed at Xew York : and was not
A FURTHER DISCOVERY IT I
that tlie proper sphere for one of his years and courage and
abilities ?
When they got ashore at the end of the day it was found
that each boat had got two more salmon, so that there was
a display of nine big fish on the grass there in the gathering
dusk.
" And to think that I should live to catch five salmon in
one day," said ]\Iiss Carry, as she contemplated her share
of the spoih " Well, no one will believe it ; for they're just
real mean people at home ; and they won't allow that any
thing's happened to you in Europe unless you have some-
thing to show for it. I suppose Ronald would give me a
written guarantee. Anyway, I am going to take that big
one along to the Doctor — it will be a good introduction,
won't it, pappa ? "
But a curious thing happened about that same salmon.
When they got to the inn the fish were laid out on the
stone flags of the dairy — the coolest and safest place for
them in -the house ; and Miss Carry, who had come along
to see them, when she wanted anything done, naturally
turned to Ronald.
" Ronald," said she, " I want to give that big one to J\Irs.
Douglas, and I am going along now to the cottage. Will
you carry it for me ? "
He said something about getting a piece of string and
left. A couple of minutes thereafter the lad Johnnie
appeared, with a stout bit of cord in his hand ; and he,
having affixed that to the head and the tail of the salmon,
caught it up, and stood in readiness. She seemed sur-
prised.
" AVhere is Ronald ? " said she — for he was always at her
bidding.
" He asked me to cany the fish to the Doctor's house,
mem," said the lad. " Will I go now ? "
Moreover, this salmon was accidentally responsible for
a still further discovery. When Miss Carry went along to
call on the Douglases, little Maggie was with her friend
Meenie ; and they all of them had tea together ; and wlien
the little Maggie considered it fitting she should go home,
jMiss Carry said she would accompany her — for it was now
quite dark. And they had a good deal of talk by the way,
172 WHITE HE A THER
partly about schooling and accomplishments, bnt much
more largely about Ronald, who was the one person in all
the world in the eyes of his sister. And if Maggie was
ready with her information, this pretty young lady was
equally interested in receiving it, and also in making in-
quiries. And thus it came about that Miss Cany now for
the first time learned that Ronald was in the habit of writ-
ing poems, verses, and things of that kind ; and that they
were greatly thought of by those who had seen them or to
whom he had sent them.
" "Why, I might have guessed as much," she said to
herself, as she walked on alone to the inn — though what
there was in Ronald's appearance to suggest that he was
a writer of rhymes it might have puzzled any one to
determine.
But this was a notable discovery ; and it set her quick
and fertile brain working in a hundred different ways ; but
mostly she bethought her of one John C. Huysen and of
a certain newspaper-office on Fifth Avenue, Chicago, 111.
" Well, there," she said to herself, as the result of these
rapid cogitations, " if -Tack Huysen's good for anything — if
he wants to say he has done me a service — if he wants to
show he has the spirit of a man in him — well, now's his
cliance.''^
CHAPTER XVIII.
CONFESSIONS.
It was but another instance 'of the curiously magnetic
influence of this man's personality that she instantly aud
unhesitatingly assumed that what he wcoiQ must be of value.
Now every second human being, as well she knew, ^\Tites
verses at one period of his life, and these are mostly trash ;
and remain discreetly hidden, or are mercifully burned.
But what Ronald wrote, she was already certain, must be
characteristic of himself, and have interest and definite
worth ; and what better could she do than get hold of some
of these things, and have them introduced to the public,
perhaps with some little preliminary encomium written by
a friendly hand ? She had heard from the little Maggie
CONFESSIONS 173
that Konald had never sent any of his writings to the news-
papers ; might not this be a service ? She could not offer
him a sovereign because he happened to be in the boat
when she caught her first salmon ; but fame — the appeal
to the wide-reading public — the glory of print ? Nay,
might they not be of some commercial value also ? She
knew but little of the customs of the Chicago journals, but
she guessed that a roundabout hint conveyed to Mr. John
C, Huysen would not be without effect. And what were
the subjects, she asked herself, that Ronald wrote about ?
In praise of deerstalking, for one thing, and mountain-
climbhig, and out-of-door life, she felt assured : you could
see it in his gait and in his look ; you could hear it in his
laugh and his singing as he went along the road. Politics,
perhaps — if sarcastic verses were in his way ; for there was
a sharp savour running through his talk ; and he took
abundant interest in public affairs. Or perhaps he would
be for recording the charms of some rustic maiden — some
" Jessie, the Flower 0' Dumblane " — some blue-eyed and
rather silent and uninteresting young person, living alone
in a glen, and tending cattle or hanging out things to dry
on a hedge ? Well, even a song would be something. The
Chicago Citizen might not pay very much for it, but the
great and generous public might take kindly to it ; and if
Jack Huysen did not say something friendly about it, then
Fhe would know the reason why.
But the stiffest struggle Miss Carry ever had with any
salmon was mere child's play compared with the fight she
had with Ronald himself over this matter. At first he was
exceedingly angry that she should have been told ; but
then he laughed, and said to her that there were plenty of
folk in Scotland as elsewhere who wrote idle verses, but
that they had the common sense to say nothing about it.
If she wanted a memento of her stay in the Highlands to
take back with her to America, he would give her her choice
of the deer-skins he had in the shed ; that would be appro-
priate, and she was welcome to the best of them ; but as
for scribblings and nonsense of that kind — no, no. On the
other hand she was just as persistent, and treated him to
a little gentle raillery, wondering that he had not yet out-
grown the years of shyness ; and finally, when everything
174 WHITE HE A THER
else bad failed, putting her request as a grace and courtesy
to be granted to an American stranger. Tbis was bardly
fair ; but sbe was very anxious about the matter ; and sbe
knew that ber demand was founded far less on mere
curiosity tban on an bonest desire to do bim a service.
Of course be yielded ; and a terrible time be bad of it
tbe night be set about selecting something to show to her.
For bow could sbe understand tbe circumstances in which
these random things Avere written — these idle fancies of a
summer morning — these careless love songs — these rhymed
epistles in which the practical common sense and shrewd
advice were much more conspicuous tban any graces of art ?
And then again so many of them were about Meenie ; and
these were forbidden ; the praise of Meenie — even when it
was tlie birds and tbe roses and tbe foxgloves and tbe
summer rills that sang of ber — was not for alien eyes. But
at last be lit upon some verses supposed to convey the
sentiments of certain exiles met together on New Year's
night in IsTova Scotia ; and he thought it was a simple kind
of thing ; at all events it would get bim out of a grievous
difficulty. So — for the lines bad been written many a day
ago, and came upon bim now with a new aspect — be altered
a phrase here or there, by way of passing the time ; and
finally he made a fair copy. The next morning, being a
Sunday, be espied Miss Carry walking down towards tbe
river ; and be overtook her and gave her this little piece to
redeem bis pledge.
" It's not worth much," said be, " but you'll understand
what it is about. Burn it when you've read it — that's
all I ask of ye " Then on be went, glad not
to be cross- questioned, tbe faithful Harry trotting at
his heels.
So sbe sat down on the stone parapet of the little
bridge — on this bushed, still, shining morning that was
quite summer-like in its calm — and opened the paper with
not a little curiosity. And well enough sbe understood
the meaning of the little piece : she knew that tbe Mac-
kays* used to live about here ; and was not Strath-Xaver
but a few miles off ; and this tbe very Mudal river
running underneath tbe bridge on which she was sitting ?
* Pronounced MacMse, ■with the accent on the second syllable.
CONFESSIONS T75
But here are tlie verses she read — and he had entitled
them
AC BOSS THE SEA.
In Nova Scotia's clime they're met
To heep the New Year's night ;
The merry lads and lasses crowd
Around the Hazing light.
But father and mother sit u-iihdraivn
To let their fancies flee
To the old, old time, and the old, old home
That's far across the sea.
And what strange sights and scenes are these
That sadden their shaded eyes'?
Is it only thus they can see again
The land of the Maelcays ?
0 there the red-deer roam at icill ;
And the grouse whirr on the wing;
And the curlew ccdl, and the ptarmigan
Drink at the mountain spring;
And the hares lie snug on the hillside;
And the lusty hlacheoch croics ;
But the river the children used to love
Through an empty valley flows.
Bo they see again a young lad wait
To shelter with his plaid.
When she steals to him in the gathering dusli;
His gentle Highland' maid?
Bo thty hear the pipes at the weddings;
Or the low sad funeral wail
As the lout goes out to the island,
And the pibroch tells its tcde ?
0 fair is Nai'cr's strath, and fair
The strath that Mudal laves;
And dear the haunts of our childhood.
And dear the old follis' graves ;
And the parting from one's native land
Is a sorrow hard to dree :
God's forgiveness to them that sent us
So far across the sea .'
And is honnie Strafh-Naver shining,
As it shone in the bygone years '? —
As it shines for us now — ay, ever —
Though our eyes are blind with tears.
176 WHITE HEATHER
Well, her own eyes were moisb — though that was but
for a moment ; for when she proceeded to walk slowly and
meditatively back to the inn, her mind was busy with many
things ; and she began to think that she had not got any
way near to the understanding of this man, whom she had
treated in so familiar a fashion, as boatman, and com-
panion, and gillie — almost as valet. What lay behind
those eyes of his, that glowed with so strange a light at
times, and seemed capable of reading her through and
through, only that the slightly tremulous eyelids came
down and veiled them, or that he turned away his head ?
And why this strain of pathos in a nature that seemed
essentially joyous and glad and careless ? Not only that,
but in the several discussions with her father — occasionally
becoming rather warm, indeed — Ronald had been invariably
on the side of the landlord, as was naturally to be expected.
He had insisted that the great bulk of the laud given over
to deer was of no possible use to any other living creature ;
he had maintained the right of the landlord to clear any
portion of his property of sheep and forest it, if by so doing
he could gain an increase of rental ; he had even maintained
the right of the landlord to eject non-paying tenants from
holdings clearly not capable of supporting the ever-increas-
ing families ; and so forth. But was his feeling, after all,
with the people — he himself being one of the people ?
His stout championship of the claims and privileges of
Lord i\.iline — that was not incompatible with a deeper sense
of the cruelty of driving the poor people away from the
land of their birth and the home of theii' childhood ?
His natural sentiment as a man was not to be overborne
by the fact that he was officially a dependent on Lord
Ailine ? These and a good many other curious problems
concerning him — and concerning his possible future —
occupied her until she had got back to the snug little
parlour ; and there, as she found her father seated in front
of the blazing fire, and engaged in getting through the
mighty pile of newspapers and illustrated journals and
magazines that had come by the previous day's mail, she
thought she might as well sit down and ^vrite a long letter
to her bosom friend in Chicago, through whose inter-
mediation these verses might discreetly be brought to the
CONFESSIONS 177
notice of Mr. Huysen. She had reasons for not asking any
favour directly.
" Dearest Em," she wrote — after having studied a long
while as to how she should begin — " would it surprise you
to know that I have at last found my fate in the very
handsome person of a Scotch gamekeeper ? Well, it ain't
so ; don't break the furniture ; but the fact is my poor
brain has been wool-gathering a little in this land of wild
storms and legends and romantic ballads ; and to-morrow I
am fleeing away to Paris — the region of clear atmosphere,
and reasonable people, and cynicism ; and I hope to have
any lingering cobwebs of romance completely blown out of
my head. Not that I would call it romance, even if it
were to happen ; I should call it merely the plain result of
my father's theories. You know he is always preaching
that all men are born equal ; which isn't true anyhow ; he
would get a little nearer the truth if he were to say that all
men are born equal except hotel clerks, who are of a superior
race ; but wouldn't it be a joke if I were to take him at
his word, and ask him how he would like a gamekeeper as
his son-in-law ? But you need not be afraid, my dear Em ;
this chipmunk has still got a little of her senses left ; and I
may say in the words of the poet — ■
' Tliere is uot in this wide world a valet so sweet ' —
no, nor any Claude Melnotte of a gardener, nor any hand-
some coachman or groom, who could induce me to run away
with him. It would be ' playing it too low down on pa,' as
you used to say ; besides, one knows how these things
always end. Another besides ; how do I know that he
would marry me, even if I asked him ? — and I should have
to ask him, for he would never ask me. Now, Em, if you
don't burn this letter the moment you have read it, I will
murder you, as sure as you are alive.
" Besides, it is a shame. He is a real good fellow ; and
no such nonsense has got into his head, I know. I know-
it, because I tried him twice for fun ; I got him to tie my
cap under my chin ; and I made him take my pocket-
handkerchief out of my breast-pocket when I was fighting
a salmon (I caught/i'e in one day — monsters !), and do you
N
178 WHITE HEA THER
think the bashful young gentleman was embarrassed and
showed trembling fingers ? Not a bit ; I think he thought
me rather a nuisance — in the polite phraseology of the
English people. But I wish I could tell you about him,
really. It's all very well to say he is very handsome and
hardy-looking and weather-tanned ; but how can I describe
to you how respectful his manner is, and yet always keeping
his own self-respect, and he won't quarrel with me — he
only laughs when I have been talking absolute folly —
though papa and he have rare fights, for he has very positive
opinions, and sticks to his guns, I can tell you. But the
astonishing thing is his education ; he has been nowhere,
but seems to know everything ; he seems to be c[uite content
to be a gamekeeper, though his brother took his degree at
college and is now in the Scotch Church. I tell you he
makes me feel pretty small at times. The other night
papa and I went along to his cottage after dinner, and
found him reading Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman
Empire — lent him by his brother, it appeared. I borrowed
the first vohmie — but, oh, squawks ! it is a good deal too
stiff work for the likes of me. And then there is never the
least pretence or show, but all the other way ; he will talk
to you as long as you like about his deer-stalking and about
what he has seen his dogs do ; but never a word about
books or writing — unless you happen to have found out.
"Now I'm coming to business. I have never seen any
writing of his until this morning, when, after long goading,
he showed me a little poem which I will copy out and
enclose in this letter when I have finished. Now, darling-
Em, I want you to do me a real kindness ; the first time
you see Jack Huysen — I don't want to ask the favour of him
direct — will you ask him to print it in the Citizen, and to
say something nice about it .? I don't want any patronage :
understand — I mean let Jack Huysen understand — that
Ronald Strang is a particular friend of both my father and
myself ; and that I am sending you this without his authority,
but merely to give him a little pleasant surprise, perhaps,
when he sees it in print ; and perhaps to tempt him to
give us some more. I should like him to print a volume,
— for he is really far above his present station, and it is
absurd he should not take his ^Aace, — and if he did that I
CONFESSIONS 179
know of a young party who would buy 500 copies even if
she w^ere to go back home without a single Paris bonnet.
Tell Jack Huysen there is to be no j)atronage, mind ; there
is to be nothing about the peasant-poet, or anything like
that ; for this man is a fientleman, if I know anything about
it ; and I won't have him trotted out as a phenomenon — ■
to be discussed by the dudes who smoke cigarettes in
Lincoln Park. If you could only talk to him for ten
minutes it would be better than fifty letters, but I suppose
there are attractions nearer home just at present. My kind
remembrances to T. T.
" I forgot to say that I am quite ignorant as to whether
newspapers ever pay for poetry — I mean if a number of
pieces were sent. Or could Jack Huysen find a publisher
who would undertake a volume ; my father will see he does
not lose anything by it ? I really want to do something for
this Eonald, for he has been so kind and attentive to us ;
and before long it may become more difficult to do so ; for
of course a man of his abilities is not likely to remain as he
is ; indeed, he has already formed plans for getting away
altogether from his present way of life, and whatever he
tries to do I know he will do — and easily. But if I talk
any more about him, you will be making very very mistaken
guesses ; and I won't give you the delight of imagining even
for a moment that I have been caught at last ; when the
sad event arrives there will be time enough for you to take
your cake-walk of triumph up and down the room — of
course to Dancing in the. Barn, as in the days of old."
Here followed a long and rambling chronicle of her
travels in Europe since her last letter, all of which may be
omitted ; the only point to be remarked was that her very
brief experiences of Scotland took up a disproportionately
large portion of the space, and that she was minute in her
description of the incidents and excitement of salmon-
fishing. Then followed an outline of her present plans ; a
string of questions ; a request for an instant reply ; and
finally —
" With dearest love, old Em,
''Thine,
" Carrijr
N 2
i8o WHITE HEATHER
And then slie had to copy the verses ; but when she
had done that, and risen, and gone to the window for a
time, some misgiving seemed to enter her mind, for she
returned to the table, and sate down again, and wrote this
postscript :
"Perhaps, after all, you won't see much in this little
piece ; if you were here, among the very places, and affected
by all the old stories and romantic traditions and the wild
scenery, it might be different. Since I've been to Europe
I've come to see what's the trouble about om* reading
English history and literature at home ; why, you can't do
it, you can't understand it, unless you have lived in an
atmosphere that is just full of poetry and romance, and
meeting people whose names tell you they belong to the
families who did great things in history centuries and
centuries ago. I can't explain it very well — not even to
myself ; but I feel it ; why, you can't take a single day's
drive in England without coming across a hundred things
of interest — JSTormau churches, and the tombs of Saxon
Kings, and old abbeys, and monasteries, and battlefields,
and, just as interesting as any, farm-houses of the sixteenth
century in their quaint old-fashioned orchards. And as for
Scotland, why, it is just steeped to the lips in poetry and
tradition ; the hills and the glens have all their romantic
stories of the clans, many of them very pathetic ; and you
want to see these wild and lonely places before you can
understand the legends. And in southern Scotland too — ■
what could any one at home make of such a simple couplet
as this —
' Tlie King sits in Dunfermline town,
Drinhing the hlude-red icine;'
but when you come near Dunfernihne and see the hill
where Malcolm Canmore built his castle in the eleventh
century, and when you are told that it was from this very
town that Sir Patrick Spens and the Scots lords set out for
' Norroway o'er the faem,' everything comes nearer to you.
In America, I remember very well, Flodden Field sounded
to us something very far away, that we couldn't take much
interest in ; but if you were here just now, dear Em, and
told that a bit farther north there Avas a river that the Earl
of Caithness and his clan had to cross when they went to
CONFESSIONS i8r
Flodden, and that the people living there at this very day
won't go near it on the anniversary of the battle, becanse
on that day the ghosts of the earl and his men, all clad in
green tartan, come home again and are seen to cross the
river, wouldn't that interest you ? In America we have got
nothing behind ns ; when you leave the day before yester-
day you don't want to go back. But here, in the most
vulgar superstitions and customs, you come upon the
strangest things. Would you believe it, less than twenty
miles from this place there is a little lake that is supposed
to cure the most desperate diseases — diseases that the
doctors have given up ; and the poor people meet at mid-
night, on the first Monday after the change of the moon,
and then they throw a piece of money into the lake, and go
in and dip themselves three times, and then they must get
home before sunrise. Perhaps it is very absurd, but they
belong to that same imaginative race of people who have
left so many weird stories and poetical legends behind them ;
and what I say is that you want to come over and breathe
this atmosphere of tradition and romance, and see the
places, before you can quite understand the charm of all
that kind of literature. And perhaps you don't find much
in these verses about the poor people who have been driven
away from their native strath ? Well, they don't claim to
be much. They were never meant for tjou to see. But
yes, I do think you will like them ; and anyhow Jack
Huysen has got to like them, and treat them hospitably,
unless he is anxious to have his hair raised.
" G-racious me, I think I must hire a haU. I have just
read this scrawl over. Sounds ratlier muzzy, don't it ?
But it's this poor brain of mine that has got full of con-
fusion and cobwebs and theories of equality, when I wasn't
attendnig to it. My arms had the whole day's work to do
— as they remind me at this minute ; and the Cerebral
Hemispheres laid their heads, or their half-heads together,
when I was busy with the salmon ; and entered into a
conspiracy against me ; and began to make pictures —
ghosts, phantom earls, and romantic shepherds and peasant-
poets, and I don't know what kind of dreams of a deer-
stalker walking down Wabash Avenue. But, as I said,
to-morrow I start for Paris, thank goodness ; and in that
182 WHITE HEATHEk
calmer atmosphere I hope to come to my senses again ;
and I will send you a long account of Lily Selden's marriage
— though your last letter to me was a fraud : what do I
care about the C. M. 0. A. ? This letter, anyhow, you
must burn ; I don't feel like reading it over again myself,
or perhaps I Avould save you the trouble ; but you may
depend on it that the one I shall send you from Paris will
be quite sane.
" Second P.S. — Of course you must manage Jack Huysen
with a little discretion. I don't want to be drawn into it
any more than I can help ; I mean, I would just hate to
write to him direct and ask him for a particular favour ;
but this is a very little one, and you know him as well as
any of us. And mind you burn this letter — instantly — the
moment you have read it — for it is just full of nonsense
and wool-gathering ; and it ivill not occur agcdn. Toujours
a toL C. H."
" What have you been writing all this time ? " her father
said, when she rose.
" A letter — to Emma Kerfoot."
" It will make her stare. You don't often write long
letters."
" I do not," said she, gravely regarding the envelope ;
and then she added solemnly : " But this is the record of
a chapter in my life that is now closed for ever — at least, I
hope so."
CHAPTER XIX.
HESITATIONS.
The waggonette stood at the door ; Miss Carry's luggage
Avas put in ; and her father was waiting to see her off. But
the young lady herself seemed unwilling to take the final
step ; twice she went back into the inn, on some pretence
or another ; and each time she came out she looked im-
patiently around, as if wondering at the absence of some one.
" Well, ain't you ready yet ? " her father asked.
" I Avant to say good-bye to Ronald," she said half angrily.
" Oh, nonsense — you are not going to America. Why,
you will be back in ten days or a fortnight. See here,
HESITATIONS 183
Carry," he added, " are you sure you don't want me to go
part of the way with you ? "
" N"ot at all," she said promptly. " It is impossible for
Mary to mistake the directions I wrote to her ; and I shall
find her in the Station Hotel at Inverness all right. Don't
you worry about me, pappa."
She glanced along the road again, in the direction of
the keeper's cottage ; but there was no one in sight.
" Pappa dear," she said, in an undertone — for there were
one or two onlookers standing by — " if Eonald should
decide on giving up his place here, and trying what you
suggested, you'll have to stand by him."
" Oh yes, I'll see him through," was the complacent
answer. " I should take him to be the sort of man who
can look after himself ; but if he Avants any kind of help —
well, here I am ; I won't go back on a man who is acting on
my advice. Why, if he were to come out to Chicago "
" Oh, no, not Chicago, pappa," she said, somewhat
earnestly, " not to Chicago. I am sure he will be more at
home — he will be happier — in his own country."
She looked around once more ; and then she stepped
into the waggonette.
" He might have come to see me off," she said, a little
proudly. " Good-bye, pappa dear — I will send you a tele-
gram as soon as I get to Paris."
The two horses sprang forward ; Miss Carry waved her
lily hand ; and then set to work to make herself comfortable
with wraps and rugs, for the morning was chill. She
thought it was very unfriendly of Eonald not to have come
to say good-bye. And what was the reason of it ? Of
course he could know nothing of the nonsense she had
written to her friend in Chicago.
" Have you not seen Ronald about anywhere ? " she asked
of the driver.
" Xo, mem," answered that exceedingly shy youth, " he
wass not about all the morning. But I heard the crack of
a gun ; maybe he wass on the hill."
And presently he said — •
" I'm thinking that's him along the road — it's two of his
dogs whatever."
And indeed this did turn out to be Ptonald who was com-
t84 white heather
ing striding along the road, with his gun over his shonlde'r,
a brace of setters at his heels, and something danghng from
his left hand. The driver pulled vc^ his horses.
" I've brought ye two or three golden plover to take with
ye, Miss Hodson," Ronald said — and he handed up the birds.
Well, she was exceedingly pleased to find that he had
not neglected her, nay, that he had been especially thinking
of her and her departure. But what should she do with
these birds in a hotel ?
" It's so kind of you," she said, " but really I'm afraid
they're — would you not rather give them to my father ? "
" Ye must not go away empty-handed," said he, with
good-humoured insistence ; and then it swiftly occurred to
her that perhaps this was some custom of the neighbour-
hood ; and so she accepted the little parting gift with a
very pretty speech of thanks.
He raised his cap, and was going on.
" Ronald," she called, and he turned.
" I Avish you would tell me," she said — and there was a
little touch of colour in the pretty, pale, interesting face—
" if there is anything I could bring from London that would
help you — I mean books about chemistry — or — or — about
trees — or instruments for land-surveying — I am sure I
could get them "
He laughed, in a doubtful kind of way.
" I'm obliged to ye," he said, " but it's too soon to speak
about that. I havena made up my mind yet."
" Not yet ? "
"No."
" But you Avill ? "
He said nothing.
" Good-bye, then."
She held out her hand, so that he could not refuse to
take it. So they parted ; and the horses' hoofs rang again
in the silence of the valley ; and she sat looking after the
disappearing figure and the meekly following dogs. And
then, in the distance, she thought she could make out
some faint sound : was he singing to himself as he strode
along towards the little hamlet ?
" At all events," she said to herself, with just a touch of
pique, " he does not seem much downhearted at my going
HESITATIONS 1S5
away." And little indeed did she imaji'ine that this song
he was thus carelessly and unthinkingly singing was all
about Meenie, and red and white roses, and trifles light
and joyous as the summer air. For not yet had black care
got a grip of his heart.
But this departure of Miss Carry for the south now gave
him leisure to attend to his own affairs and proper duties,
which had suffered somewhat from his attendance in the
coble ; and it was not until all these were put straight
that he addressed himself to the serious consideration of
the ambitious and daring project that had been pkced
before him. Hitherto it had been pretty much of an idle
speculation — a dream, in short, that looked very charming
and fascinating as the black-eyed young lady from over the
seas sate in the stern of the boat and chatted through the
idle hours. Her imagination did not stay to regard the
immediate and practical difficulties and risks ; all these
seemed already surmounted ; Ronald had assumed the
position to which he was entitled by his abilities and per-
sonal character ; she only wondered which part of Scotland
he would be living in when next her father and herself
visited Europe ; and whether they might induce him to go
over with them for a while to the States. But when Ronald
himself, in cold blood, came to consider ways and means,
there was no such plain and easy sailing. Not that he hesi-
tated about cutting himself adrift from his present moorings ;
he had plenty of confidence in himself, and knew that he
could always earn a living Avith his ten fingers, whatever
happened. Then he had between £80 and £90 lodged
in a savings bank in Inverness ; and out of that he could
pay for any classes he might have to attend, or perhaps
offer a modest premium if he wished to get into a surveyor's
office for a short time. But there were so many things to
think of. What should he do about Maggie, for example ?
Then Lord Ailine had always been a good master to
him : would it not seem ungrateful that he should throw
up his situation without apparent reason ? And so forth,
and so forth, through cogitations long and anxious ; and
many a half-hour on the hillside and many a half-hour by
the slumbering peat-fire was given to this great project ;
but always there was one side of the question that he shut
1 86 WHITE HEATHER
out from his mind. For how could he admit to himself
that this lingering hesitation — this dread, almost, of what
lay await for him in the future — had anything to do with
the going away from Meenie, and the leaving behind him,
and perhaps for ever, the hills and streams and lonely glens
that were all steeped in the magic and witchery of her
presence ? Was it not time to be done with idle fancies ?
And if, in the great city — in Edinburgh or Glasgow, as the
case might be — he should fall to thinking of Ben Loyal
and Bonnie Strath-Naver, and the long, long days on
Clebrig ; and Meenie coming home in the evening from
her wanderings by Mudal-Water, with a few wild-flowers,
perhaps, or a bit of white heather, but always with her
beautiful blue-gray Highland eyes so full of kindness as
8he stopped for a few minutes' friendly chatting — 'Well, that
would be a pretty picture to look back upon, all lambent
and clear in the tender colours that memory loves to
use. A silent picture, of course : there would be no
sound of the summer rills, nor the sweeter sound of
Meenie's voice ; but not a sad picture ; only remote and
ethereal, as if the years had come between, and made
everything distant and pale and dreamlike.
The first definite thing that he did was to write to his
brother in Glasgow, acquainting him with his plans, and
begging him to obtain some further particulars about the
Highland and Agricultural Society's certificates. The
answer that came back from Glasgow was most encourag-
ing ; for the Eev. Alexander Strang, though outwardly a
heavy and lethargic man, had a shrewd head enough, and
was an enterprising shifty person, not a little proud of the
position that he had won for himself, and rather inclined
to conceal from his circle of friends — who were mostly
members of his congregation — the fact that his brother was
merely a gamekeeper in the Highlands. Nay, more, he
was willing to assist ; he would take Maggie into his house,
so that there might be no difficulty in that direction ; and
in the meantime he would see what were the best class-
books on the subjects named, so that Ronald might be
working away at them in these comparatively idle spring
and summer months, and need not give up his situation
prematurely. There was even some hint thrown out that
UESITA TIONS 1 87
perhaps Ronald might board with his brother ; but this was
not pressed ; for the fact was that Mrs. Alexander was a
severely rigid disciplinarian, and on the few occasions on
which Eonald had been their guest she had given both
brothers to understand that the frivolous gaiety of Ronald's
talk, and the independence of his manners, and his Grallio-
like indifference about the fierce schisms and heart-burnings
in the Scotch Church were not, in her opinion, in conson-
ance with the atmosphere that ought to prevail in a Free
Church minister's house. But on the whole the letter was
very friendly and hopeful ; and Ronald was enjoined to let
his brother know when his decision should be finally taken,
and in what way assistance could be rendered him.
One night the little Maggie stole away through the dark
to the Doctor's cottage. There was a light in the windoAV
of Meenie's room ; she could hear the sound of the piano ;
no doubt Meenie was practising and alone ; and on such
occasions a visit from Maggie was but little interruption.
And so the smaller girl went boldly towards the house and
gained admission, and was proceeding upstairs without any
ceremony, when the sudden cessation of the music caused
her to stop. And then she heard a very simple and pathetic
air begin — just touched here and there with a few chords :
and was Meenie, tired with the hard work of the practising,
allowing herself this little bit of quiet relaxation ? She was
singing too — though so gently that Maggie could scarcely
make out the words. But she knew the song — had not
Meenie sung it many times before to her ? — and who but
Meenie could put such tenderness and pathos into the
simple air .'' She had almost to imagine the words — so gentle
was the voice that went with those lightly-touched chords —
" The sun rase sae rosy, the gray hills adorning,
Light sprang the laverock, and mounted on hie,
When true to the tryst o' blythe May's dewy morning,
Jeanie cam' linking out owre the green lea.
To mark her impatience I crap 'mong the brackens,
Aft, aft to the kent gate she turned her black e'e;
Then lying down dowilie, sighed, by the icillow tree,
' I am asleep, do not ivaken me.' " *
* "7 am asleep, do not waken me" \b the English equivalent of
the Gaelic name of the air, which is a very old one, and equally
pathetic in its Irish and Higlilaud versions.
i88 WHITE HEATHER
Then there was silence. The httle Maggie waited ; for
this song was a great favourite with Eonald, who himself
sometimes attempted it ; and she would be able to tell him
when she got home that she had heard Meenie sing it — and
he always listened with interest to anything, even the smallest
particulars, she could tell him about Meenie and about what
she had done or said. But where were the other verses ?
She waited and listened ; the silence was unbroken. And
so she tapped lightly at the door and entered.
And then something strange happened. For when
Maggie shut the door behind her and went forward, Meenie
did not at once turn her head to see who this was, but had
hastily whipped out her handkerchief and passed it over
her eyes. And when she did turn, it was with a kind of
look of bravery — as if to dare any one to say that she
had been crying — though there were traces of tears on her
cheeks.
" Is it you, Maggie ? I am glad to see you," she managed
to say.
The younger girl was rather frightened and sorely con-
cerned as well.
"But what is it, Meenie dear?" she said, going and
taking her hand. " Are you in trouble ? "
"No, no," her friend said, with an effort to appear quite
cheerful, " I was thinking of many things — I scarcely know
what. And now take off your things and sit down, Maggie,
and tell me all about this great news. It was only this
afternoon that my father learnt that you and your brother
were going away ; and he would not believe it at first, till
he saw Ronald himself. And it is true, after all ? Dear
me, what a change there will l^e ! "
She spoke quite in her usual manner now ; and her lips
were no longer trembling, but smiling ; and the Highland
eyes were clear, and as full of kindness as ever.
" But it is a long way off, Meenie," the smaller girl
began to explain quickly, when she had taken her seat by
the fire, " and Eonald is so anxious to please everybody,
and — and that is why I came along to ask you what you
think best."
" I "i " said Meenie, with a sadden slight touch of
reserve.
HESITATIONS 189
" It'll uot be a nice thing going away among strange folk,"
said her companion, " but I'll no grumble if it's to do Eonald
good ; and even among strange folk — well, I don't care
as long as I have Eonald and you, Meenie. And it's to
Glasgow, and not to Edinburgh, he thinks he'll have to go ;
and then you will be in Glasgow too ; so I do not mind
anything else. It will not be so lonely for any of us ; and
we can spend the evenings together — oh no, it will not be
lonely at all "
" But, Maggie," the elder girl said gravely, " I am not
going to Glasgow."
Her companion looked up quickly, with frightened
eyes.
" But you said you were going, Meenie ! "
" (Jh no," the other said gently. " My mother has often
talked of it — and I suppose I may have to go some time ;
but my father is against it ; and I know I am not going at
present anyway."
" And you are staying here — and — and Eonald and me
■ — we will be by ourselves in Glasgow ! " the other exclaimed,
as if this prospect were too terrible to be quite compre-
hended as yet.
" But if it is needful he should go ? " Meenie said.
" People have often to part from their friends like that,"
" Yes, and it's no much matter when they have plenty of
friends," said the smaller girl, with her eyes becoming moist,
" but, Meenie, I havena got one but you."
" Oh no, you must not say that," her friend remonstrated.
" Why, there is your brother in Glasgow, and his family ; I
am sure they will be kind to you. And Eonald will make
plenty of friends wherever he goes — you can see that for
yourself -, and do you think you will be lonely in a great
town like Glasgow ? It is the very place to make friends,
and plenty of them "
" Oh, I don't know what to do — I don't know what to
do, if you are not going to Glasgow, Meenie ! " she broke
in. " I wonder if it was that that Eonald meant. He
asked me whether I would like to stay here or go with
him, for IMrs. Murray has offered to take me in, and I
would have to help at keeping the books, and that is very
kind of them, I am sure, for I did not think I could be of
igo WHITE HE A THER
any use to anybody. And you are to be here in Inver-
Mudal — and Ronald away in Glasgow "
Well, it was a bewildering thing. These were the two
people she cared for most of all in the world ; and virtually
she was called upon to choose between them. And if she
had a greater loyalty and reverence towards her brother,
still, Meenie was her sole girl-friend, and monitress, and
counsellor. What would her tasks be without Meenie's
approval ; how could she get on with her knitting and
sewing without Meenie's aid ; what would the days be like
without the witchery of Meenie's companionship — even if
that were limited to a passing word or a smile ? Ronald had
not sought to influence her choice ; indeed, the alternative
had scarcely been considered, for she believed that Meenie
was going to Glasgow also ; and with her hero brother and
her beautiful girl-friend both there, what more could she
wish for in the world ? But now ■ ?
Well, Meenie, in her wise and kind way, strove to calm
the anxiety of the girl ; and her advice was altogether in
favour of Maggie's going to Glasgow with her brother
Ronald, if that were equally convenient to him, and of no
greater expense than her remaining in Inver-Mudal with
Mrs. Murray.
" For you know he wants somebody to look after him,"
Meenie continued, with her eyes rather averted, " and if
it does not matter so much here about his carelessness of
being wet and cold, because he has plenty of health and
exercise, it will be very different in Glasgow, where there
should be some one to bid him be more careful."
" But he pays no heed to me," the little sister sighed,
" unless I can tell him you have been saying so-and-so —
then he listens. He is very strange. He has never once
worn the blue jersey that I knitted for him. He asked me
a lot of questions about how it was begun ; and I told him
as little as I could about the help you had given me," she
continued evasively, " and when the snow came on, I thought
he would wear it ; but no — he put it away in the drawer
with his best clothes, and it's lying there all neatly folded
up — and what is the use of that ? If you were going to
Glasgow, Meenie, it would be quite different. It will be
very lonely there. . _ .
HESITATIONS igt
" Lonely ! " the other exclaimed ; " with your brother
Ronald, and your other brother's family, and all their
friends. And then you will be able to go to school and
have more regular teaching — Eonald spoke once or twice to
me about that."
" Yes, indeed," the little Maggie said ; but the prospect
did not cheer her much ; and for some minutes they both
sate silent, she staring into the fire. And then she said
bitterly — ■
" 1 wish the American people had never come here. It
is all their doing. It never would have come into Ronald's
head to leave Inver-Mudal but for them. ' And where else
will he be so well known — and — and every one speaking-
well of him— and every one so friendly "
" But, Maggie, these things are always happening," her
companion remonstrated. " Look at the changes my father
has had to make."
" And I wonder if we are never to come back to Inver-
Mudal, Meenie ? " the girl said suddenly, with appealing
Meenie tried to laugh, and said —
" Who can tell ? It is the way of the world for people
to come and go. And Glasgow is a big place — perhaps
you would not care to come back after having made plenty
of friends there."
" My friends will always be here, and nowhere else," the
smaller girl said, with emphasis. " Oh, Meenie, do you
think if Ronald were to get on well and make more money
than he has now, he would come back here, and bring me
too, for a week maybe, just to see every one again ? "
" I cannot tell you that, Maggie," the elder girl said,
rather absently.
After this their discussion of the strange and unknown
future that lay before them languished somehow ; for Meenie
seemed preoccupied, and scarcely as blithe and hopeful as
she had striven to appear. But when Maggie rose to
return home^saying that it was time for her to be looking
after Ronald's supper — her friend seemed to pull herself
together somewhat, and at once and cheerfully accepted
Maggie's invitation to come and have tea with her the
following afternoon.
193 WHITE HEATHER
"For you have been so little in to see us lately," the
small Maggie said ; " and Ronald always engaged with the
American people — and often in the evening too as well as
the whole day long."
" But I must make a great deal of you now that you are
going away," said Miss Douglas, smiling.
" And Ronald — will I ask him to stay in till you come ? "
But here there was some hesitation.
" Oh no, I would not do that^no doubt he is busy just
now with his preparations for going away. I would not say
anything to him — you and I will have tea together by
ourselves."
The smaller girl looked up timidly.
" Ronald is going away too, Meenie."
Perhaps there was a touch of reproach in the tone ; at all
events Meenie said, after a moment's embarrassment — ■
" Of course I should be very glad if he happened to be
in the houss — and — and had the time to spare ; but I think
he will understand that, Maggie, without your saying as
much to him."
" He gave plenty of his time to the American young
lady," said Maggie, rather proudly.
" But I thought you and she were great friends," Meenie
said, in some surprise.
" It takes a longer time than that to make friends," the
girl said ; and by and by she left.
Then Meenie went up to her room again, and sate down
in front of the dull, smouldering peat-fire, with its heavy
lumps of shadow, and its keen edges of crimson, and its
occasional flare of flame and shower of sparks. There w^ere
many pictures there— of distant things ; of the coming
spring-time, with all the new wonder and gladness somehow
gone out of it ; and of the long long shining summer days,
and Inver-Mudal grown lonely ; and of the busy autumn
time, with the English people come from the south, and no
Ronald there, to manage everything for them. For her
heart was very affectionate ; and she had but few friends ;
and Glasgow was a great distance away. There were some
other fancies too, and self-questionings and perhaps even
self-reproaches, that need not be mentioned here. When,
by and by, she rose and went to the piano, which was still
'* AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS'' 193
open, it was not to resume her seat. She stood absently
staring at the keys — for these strange pictures followed her ;
and indeed that one half -unconscious trial of " / am asleep,
do not icalcen me " had been quite enough for her in her
present mood.
CHAPTER XX.
"among the TJNTRODDEIT WATS."
Yes ; it soon became clear that Meenie Douglas, in vie^v
of this forthcoming departure, had resolved to forego some-
thing of the too obvious reserve she had recently imposed
on herself — if, indeed, that maidenly shrinking and shyness
had not been rather a matter of instinct than of will. AVhen
Eonald came home on the following evening she was seated
with Maggie in the old familiar way at a table plentifully
littered with books, patterns, and knitting ; and when she
shook hands with him, her timidly uplifted eyes had much
of the old friendliness in them, and her smile of welcome
was pleasant to see. It was he who was diffident and
very respectful. For if her mother had enjoined her to
be a little more distant in m.anncr towards this one or
the other of those around her — well, that was quite intelli-
gible ; that was quite right ; and he could not complain ;
but on the other hand, if the girl herself, in this very small
domestic circle, seemed rather anxious to put aside those
barriers which were necessary out of doors, he would not
presume on her good-nature. And yet — and yet — he could
not help thawing a little ; for she was very kind, and even
merry withal ; and her eyes were like the eyes of the
Meenie of old.
" I am sure Maggie will be glad to get away from Inver-
Mudal," she was saying, " for she will not find anywhere a
schoolmistress as hard as I have been. But maybe she
will not have to go to school at all, if she has to keep house
for you ? "
"But she'll no have to keep house for me," Ronald
said at once. " If she goes to Glasgow, she'll be much
better with my l^rother's family, for that wiU be a home
for her."
194 WHITE HEATHER
" And wliere will you go, Ronald ? " she said.
" Oh, into a lodging — •! can fend for myself."
At this she looked grave — nay, she did not care to
conceal her disapproval. For had she not been instructing
Maggie in the mysteries of housekeeping in a town — as far
as these were known to herself : and had not the little girl
showed great courage ; and declared there was nothing she
would not attempt rather than be separated from her
brother Eonald ?
" It would never do," said he, " to leave the lass alone in
the house all day in a big town. It's very well here, where
she has neighbours and people to look after her from time
to time ; but among strangers "
Then he looked at the table.
" But Where's the tea ye said ye would ask Miss Douglas
in to ? "
" We were so busy with the (rlasgow housekeeping,"
Meeuie said, laughing, " that we forgot all about it."
" I'll go and get it ready now," the little Maggie said,
and she went from the room, leaving these two alone.
He was a little embarrassed ; and she was also. There
had been no amantium irae of any kind ; but all the same
the integratio amotis was just a trifle difficult ; for she on
her side was anxious to have their old relations re-estabhshed
during the brief period that would elapse ere he left the
neighbourhood, and yet she was hesitating and uncertain ;
while he on his side maintained a strictly respectful reserve.
He " knew his place ; " his respect towards her was part of
his own self-respect ; and if it did not occur to him that it
was rather hard upon Meeuie that all the advances towards
a complete rehabilitation of their friendship should come
from her, that was because he did not know that she was
moved by any such wish, and also because he was completely
ignorant of a good deal else that had happened of late. Of
course, certain thiiigs Avere obvious enough. Clearly the
half-frightened, distant, and yet regretful look with which
she had recently met and parted from Mm when by chance
tliey passed each other in the road was no longer in her eyes ;
there was a kind of appeal for friendliness in her manner
towards him ; she seemed to say, " Well, you are going
away ; don't let us forget the old terms on which we used
''AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS'' 195
to meet." And not only did he quickly respond to that
feeling, but also he was abundantly grateful to her ; did
not he wish to carry away with him the pleasantest
memories of this beautiful, sweet-natured friend, who had
made all the world magical to him for a while, who had
shown him the grace and dignity and honour of true
womanhood, and made him wonder no less at the charm
of her clear-shining simplicity and naturalness ? The very
name of " Love Meenie " would be as the scent of a rose
— as the song of a lark — for him through all the long
coming years.
" It will make a great change about here," said she, with
her eyes averted, " your going away."
" There's no one missed for long," he answered, in his
downright fashion. " Where people go, people come ; the
places get filled up."
" Yes, but sometimes they are not quite the same," said
she rather gently. She was thinking of the newcomer.
Would he be the universal favourite that Ronald was —
always good-natured and laughing, but managing everybody
and everything ; lending a hand at the sheep-shearing or
playing the pipes at a wedding — anything to keep life
moving along briskly ; and always ready to give her father
a day's hare-shooting or a turn at the pools of Mudal- Water
when the spates began to clear ? She knew quite well —
for often had she heard it spoken of — that no one could
get on as well as Eonald with the shepherds at the time of
the heather-burning : when on the other moors the shepherds
and keepers were growling and quarrelling like rival leashes
of collies, on Lord Ailine's ground everything was peace and
quietness and good humour. And then she had a vague
impression that the next keeper would be merely a keeper ;
whereas Ronald was — Ronald.
" I'm sure I was half-ashamed," said he, " when I got his
lordship's letter. It was as fair an offer as one man could
make to another ; or rather, half a dozen offers ; for he
said he would raise my wage, if that was what was wrong ;
or he would let me have another lad to help me in the
kennels ; or, if I was tired of the Highlands he would get
me a place at his shooting in the south. Well, I was sweirt
to trouble his lordship with my small affairs ; but after that
0 2
196 WHITE HEATHER
I couldna but sit down and write to him the real reason
of my leaving "
" And I'm certain," said she quickly, " that he will write
back and offer you any help in his power."
" No, no," said he, with a kind of laugh, " the one letter
is enough — if it ever comes to be a question of a written
character. But it's just real friendly and civil of him ;
and if I could win up here for a Aveek or a fortnight
in August, I would like well to lend them a hand and
set them going ; for it will be a good year for the grouse,
I'm thinking "
" Oh, will you be coming to see us in August ? " she said,
with her eyes suddenly and rather wistfully lighting up.
" "Well, I don't know how I may be situated," said he.
" And there's the railway expense — though I would not
mind that much if I had the chance otherwise ; for his
lordship has been a good master to me ; and I would just
like to lend him a hand, and start the new man with the
management of the dogs and the beats. That's one thing
Lord Ailine wdll do for me, I hope : I hope he will let me
hajVe a word about the man that's coming in my place ; I
would not like to have a cantankerous ill-tempered brute
of a fellow coming in to have charge of my dogs. They're
the bonniest lot in Sutherlandshire."
All this was practical enough ; and meanwhile she had
set to work to clear the table, to make Avay for Maggie.
When the young handmaiden appeared with the tea-things
he left the room for a few minutes, and presently returned
with a polecat-skin, carefully dressed and smoothed, in his
hand.
" Here's a bit thing," said he, " I wish ye would take, if
it's of any use to you. Or if ye could tell me anything ye
wished it made into, I could have that done when I go
south. And if your mother would like one or two of the
deer-skins, I'm sure she's welcome to them ; they're useful
about a house."
" Indeed, you are very kind, Ronald," said she, flushing
somewhat, " and too kind, indeed — for you know that ever
since we have known you all these kindnesses have always
been on one side — and — and — we have never had a chance
of doing anything in return for you "
''AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS'' 197
" Oh, nonsense," said he good-naturedly. " "Well, there
is one thing your father could do for me — if he would take
my gun, and my rifle, and rods and reels, and just keep
tbem in good working order, that would be better than
taking them to Glasgow and getting them spoiled with rust
and want of use. I don't want to part with them altogether ;
for they're old friends ; and I would like to have them left
in safe keeping "
She laughed lightly.
" And that is yom- way of asking a favour — to offer my
father the loan of all these things. Well, I am sure he will
be very glad to take charge of them "
" And to use them," said he, '* to use them ; for that is
the sure way of keeping them in order."
" But perhaps the new keeper may not be so friendly ? "
" Oh, I will take care about that," said he confidently ;
" and in any case you know it was his lordship said your
father might have a day on the Mudal- Water whenever he
liked. And what do you think, now, about the little skin
there ? "
" I think I will keep it as it is — just as you have given
it to me," she said simply.
In due course they had tea together ; but that after-
noon or evening meal is a substantial affair in the north —
cold beef, ham, scones, oatmeal cake, marmalade, jam, and
similar things all making their appearance— and one not
to be lightly hurried over. And Meenie was so much at
home now ; and there was so much to talk over ; and she
was so hopeful. Of com'se, Eonald must have holiday-
times, like other people ; and where would he spend these,
if he did not come back to his old friends ? And he would
have such chances as no mere stranger could have, coming
through on the mail-cart and asking everywhere for a little
trout-fishing. Ronald would have a day or two's stalking
from Lord Ailine ; and there was the loch ; and Mudal-
Water ; and if the gentlemen were after the grouse, would
they not be glad to have an extra gun on the hill for a daji
or two, just to make up a bag for them ?
" And then," said Meenie, with a smile, " who knows but
that Ronald may in time be able to have a shooting of his
own ? Stranger things have happened."
198 WHITE HEATHER
When tea was over and the thhigs removed he lit
his pipe, and the girls took to their knitting. And never,
he thought, had Meenie looked so pretty and pleased and
quickly responsive with her clear and happy eyes. He
forgot all about Mrs, Douglas's forecast as to the future
estate of her daughter ; he forgot all about the Stuarts of
Grlengask and Orosay ; this was the Meenie whom Mudal
knew, whom Clebrig had charge of, who was the friend and
companion of the birds and the wild-flowers and the summer
streams. What a wonderful thing it was to see her small
fingers so deftly at work ; when she looked up the room
seemed full of light and entrancement ; her sweet low laugh
found an echo in the very core of his heart. And they all
of them, for this one happy evening, seemed to forget that
soon there was to be an end. They were together ; the
world shut out ; the old harmony re-established, or nearly
re-established ; and Meenie was listening to his reading of
" the Eve of St. Agnes " — in the breathless hush of the little
room — or she was praying, and in vain, for him to bring
his pipes and play " Lord Lovat's Lament," or they were
merely idly chatting and laughing, while the busy work
of the fingers went on. And sometimes he sate quite
silent, listening to the other two ; and her voice seemed
to fill the room with music ; and he wondered whether
he could carry away in his memory some accurate
recollection of the peculiar, soft, rich tone, that made
the simplest things sound valuable. It was a happy
evening.
But when she rose to go away she grew graver ; and
as she and Ronald went along the road together — it was
very dark, though there were a few stars visible here and
there — she said to him in rather a low voice — ■
" Well, Ronald, the parting between friends is not very
pleasant, but I am sure I hope it will all be for the best,
now that you have made up yom' mind to it. And every
one seems to think you will do well."
" Oh, as for that," said he, " that is all right. If the
worst comes to the worst, there is always the Black
Watch."
" What do you mean ? "
" Well, they're always sending the Forty-Second into the
''AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS'' 199
thick of it, no matter what part of the world the fighting is,
so that a man has a good chance. I suppose I'm not too
old to get enlisted ; sometimes I wish I had thought of it
when I was a lad — I don't know that I would like anything
better than to be a sergeant in the Black Watch. And I'm
sure I would serve three years for no pay at all if I could
only get one single chance of winning the V.O. But it
comes to few ; it's Hke the big stag — it's there when ye least
expect it ; and a man's hand is not just always ready, and
steady. But I'm sure ye needna bother about what's going
to happen to me — that's of small account."
" It is of very great account to your friends, at all events,"
said she valiantly, " and you must not forget, when you are
far enough away from here, that you have friends here Avho
are thinking of you and always wishing you well. It will be
easy for you to forget ; you will have all kinds of things to
do, and many people around you ; but the others here may
often think of you, and wish to hear from you. It is the
one that goes away that has the best of it, I think — among
the excitement of meeting strange scenes and strange
faces "
" But I am not likely to forget," said he, rather peremp-
torily ; and they walked on in silence.
Presently she said —
" I have a little album that I wish you would write some-
thing in before you go away altogether."
" Oh yes, I will do that," said he, " and gladly."
" But I mean something of your own," she said rather
more timidly.
" Why, but who told you "
" Oh, every one knows, surely ! " said she. " And why
should you conceal it ? There were the verses that you
wrote about. Mrs. Semple's little girl — I saw them when I
was at Tongue last — and indeed I think they are quite
beautiful : will you write out a copy of them in my
album ? "
" Or something else, perhaps," said he — for instantly it
flashed upon him that it was something better than a mere
copy that was needed for Meenie's book. Here, indeed,
was a chance. If there was any inspiration to be gained
from these wild hills and straths and lonely lakes, now was
20O WHITE HE A THER
the time for them to be propitious ; would not Clebrig —
the giant Clebrig — whose very child Meenie was — come to
his aid, that so he might present to her some fragment of
song or rhyme not unworthy to be added to her little
treasury ?
" I will send for the book to-morrow," said he.
" I hope it will not give you too much trouble," said she,
as they reached the small gate, " but it is very pleasant to
turn over the leaves and see the actual writing of your
friends, and think of when you last saw them and where
they are now. And that seems to be the way with most of
our friends ; I suppose it is because we have moved about
so ; but there is scarcely any one left — and if it was not for
a letter occasionally, or a dip into that album, I should
think we were almost alone in the world. Well, good-night,
Eonald — or will you come in and have a chat with my
father ? "
" I am afraid it is rather late," he said.
"Well, good-night."
" Good-night, Miss Douglas," said he, and then he walked
slowly back to his home.
And indeed he was in no mood to turn to the scientific
volumes that had already arrived from Glasgow. His heart
was all afire because of the renewal of Meenie's kindness ;
and the sound of her voice was still in his ears ; and quite
naturally he took out that blotting-pad full of songs and
fragments of songs, to glance over them here and there, and
see if amongst them there was any one likely to recall to him
when he was far away from Inver-Mudal the subtle mystery
and charm of her manner and look. And then he began
to think what a stranger coming to Inver-Mudal would see
in Meenie '^. Perhaps only the obvious things — the pretty
oval of the cheek and chin, the beautiful proud mouth, the
wide-apart contemplative eyes ? And perhaps these would
be sufficient to attract ? He began to laugh with scorn at
this stranger — who could only see these obvious things —
who knew nothing about Meenie, and the sweetness of her
ways, her shrewd common-sense and the frank courage and
honour of her mind. And what if she were to turn coquette
under the influence of this alien admiration ? Or perhaps
become sharply proud ? Well, he set to work — out of
''AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS'' 201
a kind of whimsicality — and in time had scribbled out
this —
FLOWER AUCTION.
Who loill huy pansies 9
There are her eyes.
Dew-soft and tender^
Love in them lies.
Who will buy roses'?
There are her lips,
And there is the nectar
That Cupidon sips.
Who IV ill huy lilies ?
There are her cheeks.
And there the shy Hushing
That maidhood bespeaks
" Meenie, Love Meenie,
WJtat must one pay'?"
" Good stranger, the market's
Not open to-day ! "
He looked at the verses again and again ; and the longer
he looked at them the less he liked them — he scarcely knew
why. Perhaps they were a little too literary ? They seemed
to lack naturalness and simplicity ; at all events, they were
not true to Meenie ; why should Meenie figure as a flippant
coquette ? And so he threw them away and turned to his
books — not the scientific ones — to hunt out something that
was like Meenie. He came near it in Tannahill, but was
not quite satisfied. A verse or two in Keats held his fancy
for a moment. But at last he found what he wanted in
Wordsworth — ■
" A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye ;
— Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky."
Yes ; that was liker Meenie — 'who " dwelt among the
untrodden ways."
202 WHITE HE A THER
CHAPTER XXI.
A LESSO^^ IN rLY-FISniNG.
Miss Carry Eodson' returned from Paris in a very radiant
mood ; she bad had what she called a real good time, and
everything connected with the wedding had gone off most
successfully. Her dress, that she had ordered long before
she came to the Highlands, was a perfect fit ; Lily Selden
made the most charming and beautiful of brides ; and no
less a person than a prince (rather swarthy, and bailing
from some mysterious region east of the Carpathians)
had proposed the health of the bridesmaids, and had
made especial mention of the young ladies who had
travelled long distances to be present on the auspicious
occasion.
However, on the morning after her return to Inver-Mudal
her equanimity was somewhat dashed. "When she went
along the passage to the little hall — to see what the morn-
ing was like outside — she found waiting there a respectable-
looking elderly Highlander, with grizzled locks, who touched
his cap to her, and who had her waterproof over his arm.
This last circumstance made her suspicious ; instantly she
went back to her father.
" Who is that man ? " she asked.
" What man ? "
"Why, an old man, who is waiting there, and he has
got my waterproof slung over his arm."
" Well, I suppose that is the nev7 gillie."
" Isn't Ronald going down "i " she said, with very evident
disappointment.
" (3f course not," her father said, with some sharpness.
" I think you have taken up enough of his time. And just
now, when he is getting ready to go away, do you think I
could allow him to waste day after day in attending to us ?
Seems to me it would be more to the point if you put your
small amount of brain into devising some means of squaring
up with him for what he has done already."
" Oh, very well," she said — or rather, what she did really
say was " Oh, vurry well " — and the pretty, pale, attractive
face resumed its ordinary complacency, and she went off
A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING 203
to make friends with the new gillie. She was on good
terms with the old Highlander in about a couple of minutes ;
and presently they were on their way down to the loch,
along with the lad John. Her father was to follow as soon
as he had finished his letters.
But she was now to discover, what she had never dis-
covered before, that salmon-fishing on a loch is a rather
monotonous affair, unless the fish are taking very freely
indeed. For one thing, the weather had settled down
into a fine, clear, spring-like calm and quiet that was not
at all favourable to the sport. It was very beautiful, no
doubt ; for sometimes for hours together the lake would be
like a sheet of glass — the yellow shores and purple birch-
woods all accurately doubled, with nearer at hand the
faint white reflections of the snow-peaks in the north
stretching out into the soft and deep blue ; and when a
breath of wind, from some unexpected point of the com-
pass, began to draw a sharp line of silver botween earth
and water, and then came slowly across the loch to them,
ruffling out that magic inverted picture on its way, the
breeze was deliciously fresh and balmy, and seemed to
bring with it tidings of the secret life that was working
forward to the leafiness of summer. They kept well out
into the midst of this spacious circle of loveliness, for old
Malcolm declared they would be doing more harm than
good by going over the fishing ground ; so she had a
sufficiently ample view of this great panorama of water and
wood and far mountain-slopes. But it grew monotonous.
She began to think of Paris, and the brisk, busy days — a
hurry of gaiety and pleasure and interest using up every
possible minute. She wished she had a book — some
knitting — anything. Why, when Ronald was in the boat
— with his quick sarcastic appreciation of every story she
had to tell, or every experience she had to describe — there
was always enough amusement and talking. But this old
man was hopeless. She asked him questions about his
croft, his family, his sheep and cows ; and he answered
gravely ; but she took no interest in his answers, as her
father might have done. She was unmistakably glad to
get ashore for lunch — which was picturesque enough, by
the way, with that beautiful background all around ; and
204 WHITE HEATHER
neither her father nor herself was in any hurry to break up
the small picnic-party and set to work again.
Nor did they do much better in the afternoon — though
her father managed to capture a small eight-pounder ; and
so, in the evening, before dinner, she went along to Eonald
to complain. She found him busy with his books ; his
gun and cap and telescope lying on the table beside him,
showed that he had just come in.
" Ay," said he, " it's slow work in weather like this. But
will ye no sit down ? " and he went and brought her a
chair.
" Xo, I thank you," said she ; " I came along to see if
you thought there was likely to be any change. Is your
glass a good one ? "
" First-rate," he answered, and he went to the small
aneroid and tapped it lightly. " It was given me by a
gentleman that shot his first stag up here. I think he
would have given me his head, he was so pleased. Well,
no, Miss Hodson, there's not much sign of a change.
But I'll tell ye what we'll do, if you're tired of the loch,
we'll try one or two of the pools on the Mudal."
" You mean the river down there ? "
" There's not much hope there either — for the water's
low the now ; but we miglit by chance get a little wind,
or there are some broken bits in the stream "
" But you mean with a fly — how could I throw a fly ? "
she exclaimed.
" Ye'll never learn younger," was the quiet answer. " If
there's no change to-morrow I'll take ye up the river my-
self— and at least ye can get some practice in casting "
" Oh no, no," said she hurriedly, " thank you very much,
but I must not take up your time "
" I'm no so busy that I cannot leave the house for an
hour or two," said he — and she understood by his manner
that he was "putting his foot down," in which case she
knew she might just as well give in at once. " But I warn
ye that it's a dour river at the best, and not likely to be in
good ply ; however, we might just happen on one." And
then he added, by way of explanation, " If we should, it
will have to be sent to Lord Ailine, ye understand."
" Why .? "
A LESSON IN FlY-PlSH/NG ^05
" Because the river doesna belong to your fishing ; it
goes with the shooting."
" Oh," said she, somewhat coldly. " And so, when Lord
Ailine gives any one a day's fishing he claims whatever
fish they may catch ? "
" When his lordship gives a day's fishing he does not ;
hut when the keeper does— that's different," was the per-
fectly simple and respectful answer.
" Oh, I beg your pardon," said she hastily, and sincerely
hoping she had said nothing to wound his feelings. Ap-
parently she had not, for he proceeded to warn her about
the necessity of her putting on a thick pair of boots ; and
he also gently hinted that she might wear on her head
something less conspicuous than the bright orange Tarn 0'
Shanter of which she seemed rather fond.
Accordingly, next morning, instead of sending him a
message that she was ready, she walked along to the cottage,
accoutred for a thorough stiff day's work. The outer door
was open, so she entered without ceremony ; and then
tapped at the door of the lifctle parlour, which she pro-
ceeded to open also. She then found that Ronald was
not alone ; there was a young man sitting there, who
instantly rose as she made her appearance. She had but
a m.omentary glimpse of him, but she came to the conclu-
sion that the gamekeepers in this part of the world were
a good-looking race, for this was a strongly-built young-
fellow, keen and active, apparently, with a rather pink and
white complexion, closely-cropped head, bright yellow mous-
tache, and singularly clear blue eyes. He wore a plain
tweed suit ; and as he rose he picked up a billycock hat
that was lying on the table.
" I'll see you to-night, Ronald," said he, " I'm going off
by the mail again to-morrow."
And as he passed by ]\Iiss Carry, he said, very modestly
and respectfully —
" I hope you will have good sport."
"Thank you," said she, most civilly, for he seemed a
well-mannered young man, as he slightly bowed to her in
passing, and made his way out.
Ronald had everything ready for the start.
" I'm feared they'll be laughing at us for trying the river
2b6 WHITE HEATHER
on so clear a day," said he, as he put his big fly-book in
his pocket. " And there's been no rain to let the fish
get up."
" Oh I don't mind about that," said she, as he held the
door open, and she went out, "it will be more interesting
thati the lake. However, I've nothing to say against the
lake fishing, for it has done such wonders for my father. I
have not seen him so well for years. "Whether it is the
quiet life, or the mountain air, I don't know, but he sleeps
perfectly, and he has entirely given up the bromide of
potassium. I do hope he will take the shooting and come
back in the autumn."
" His lordship was saying there were two other gentlemeu
after it," remarked Ronald significantly.
" Who Avas saying ? "
" His lordship — that was in the house the now wheii
ye came in."
" Was that Lord Ailine ? " she said— and she almost
paused in their walk along the road;
" Oh yes."
" You don't say ! Why, how did he come here ? '^
" By the mail this morning."
" With the country people ? "
" Just like anybody else," he said.
" Well, I declare ! I thought he would have come with
a coach and outriders — in state, you know "
" What for ? " said he impassively. " He had no luggage,
I suppose, but a bag and a waterproof. It's different in
the autumn, of course, when all the gentlemen come up,
and there's luggage and the rifles and the cartridge-boxes
— then they have to have a brake or a waggonette."
" And that was Lord Ailine," she said, half to herself ;
and there was no further speaking between them until they
had gone past the Doctor's cottage and over the bridge and
were some distance up " the strath that Mudal laves " — to
quote her companion's own words.
" Now," said he, as he stooped and began to put together
the slender grilse-rod, " we'll just let ye try a cast or two
on this bit of open grass — and we'll no trouble with a fly as
yet."
He fastened on the reel, got the line through the rings,
A LESSON TN FLY-FISHING IQ7
and drew out a few yards' length. Then lie gave her the
rod ; showed her how to hold it ; and then stood just
beliind her, with his right hand covering hers.
" Now," said he, " keep your left hand just about as steady
as ye can — and don't jerk — this way "
Of course it Was really he who was making these fetv
preliminary casts, and each time the line ran out and fell
straight and trembling on the grass.
" Now try it yoiu'self."
At first she made a very bad job of it — especially when
she tried to do it by main force ; the line came curling
down not much more than the rod's length in front of her,
and the more she whipped the closer became the curls.
" I'm afraid I don't catch on quite," she said, uncon-
sciously adopting one of her father's phrases.
" Patience — patience," said he ; and again he gripped
her hand in his and the line seemed to run out clear with
the gentlest possible forward movement.
And then he put out more line — -and still more and
more — until every backward and upward swoop of the rod,
and every forward cast, was accompanied by a " swish "
through the air. This was all very well ; and she was
throwing a beautiful, clean line ; but she began to wonder
when the bones in her right hand would suddenly succumb
and be crunched into a jelly. The weight of the rod —
which seemed a mighty engine to her — did not tell on her,
for his one hand did the whole thing ; but his grip was
terrible ; and yet she did not like to speak.
" Now try for yourself," said he, and he stepped aside.
" Wait a minute," she said — and she shook her hand, to
get the life back iuto it.
" I did not hm't you ? " said he, in great concern.
*' We learn in suffering what we teach in song," she said
lightly, " If I am to catch a salmon with a fly-rod, I sup-
pose I have got to go through something."
She set to work again ; and, curiously enoagh, she
seemed to succeed better with the longer line than with
the short one. There was less jerking ; the forward
movement was more even ; and though she was far indeed
from throwing a good line, it was very passable for a
beginner.
2o8 WHITE HEATHER
" You know," said she, giving him a good-humoured hint,
" I don't feel like doing this all day."
" Well, then, we'll go down to the water now," said he,
and he took the rod from her.
They walked down through the swampy grass and
heather to the banks of the stream ; and here he got out
his fly-book — a bulged and baggy volume much the worse
for wear. And then it instantly occurred to her that this
was something she could get for him — the most splendid
fly-book and assortment of salmon flies to be procured in
London — until it just as suddenly occurred to her that
he would have little use for these in Glasgow. She saw
him select a smallish black and gold and crimson-tipped
object from that bulky volume ; and a few minutes there-
after she was armed for the fray, and he was standing by
watching.
Now the Mudal, though an exceedingly " dour " salmon-
river, is at least easy for a beginner to fish, for there is
scarcely anywhere a bush along its level banks. And there
were the pools — some of them deep and drumly enough in
all conscience ; and no doubt there were salmon in them,
if only they could be seduced from their lair. For one
thing, Ronald had taken her to a part of the stream where
she could not, in any case, do much harm by her preliminary
whippings of the water.
She began — not without some little excitement, and
awful visions of triumph and glory if she should really
be able to catch a salmon by her own unaided skill. Of
course she caught in the heather behind her sometimes ;
and occasionally the line would come down in a ghastly
heap on the water ; but then again it would go fairly out
and over to the other bank, and the letting it down with
the current and drawing it across — as he had shown her in
one or two casts — was a comparatively easy matter. She
worked hard, at all events, and obeyed implicitly— until
alas ! there came a catastrophe.
" A little bit nearer the bank if you can," said he ; " just
a foot nearer."
She clenched her teeth. Back went the rod with all her
might — and forward again with all her might — but midway
and overhead there was a mighty crack like that of a horse-
A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING 209
whip ; and calmly he regarded the line as it fell on the
water.
" The fly's gone," said he — ^but with not a trace of
vexation.
" Oh, Ronald, I'm so sorry ! " she cried, for she knew
that these things were expensive, even where they did not
involve a considerable outlay of personal skill and trouble.
" Not at all," said he, as he quietly sate down on a dry
bunch of heather and got out his book again. " AH
beginners do that, I'll just show ye in a minute or two
how to avoid it. And we'll try a change now."
Indeed she was in no way loth to sit down on the
heather too ; and even after he had selected the particular
Childers he wanted, she took the book, and would have
him tell her the names of all the various flies, which, quite
apart from their killing merits, seemed to her beautiful and
interesting objects. x\nd finally she said —
" Eonald, my arms are a little tired. "Won't you try a
cast or two ? I am sure I shoidd learn as much by looking
on."
He did as he was bid ; and she went with him ; but he
could not stir anything. The river was low ; the day was
clear ; there was no wind. But at last they came to a part
of the stream where there was a dark and deep pool, and
below that a wide bed of shingle, while between the shingle
and the bank was a narrow channel where the water tossed
and raced before breaking out into the shallows. He
drew her a little bit back from the bank and made her take
the rod again.
" If there's a chance at all, it's there," he said. " Do ye
see that stone over there ? — well, just try to drop the fly a
foot above the stone, and let it get into the swirl."
She made her first cast — the line fell in a tangled heap
about three yards short.
" Ye've got out of the way of it," said he, and he took
the rod from her, let out a little more line, and then gave
it to her again, standing behind her, with his hand over-
gripping hers.
" Now ! "
The fly fell a foot short — but clean. The next cast it
fell at the precise spot indicated, and was swept into the
P
210 WHITE HEATHER
current, and dragged slowly and jerkily across. Again he
made the cast for her, with the same negative result ; and
then he withdrew his hand.
" That's right — very well done ! " he said, as she con-
tinued.
" Yes, but what's the use when you have tried "
She had scarcely got the words out when she suddenly
found the line held tight — and tighter — she saw it cut its
way through the water, up and towards the hank of the
pool above — and down and down was the point of the rod
pulled until it almost touched the stream. All this had
happened in one wild second.
" Let the line go ! — what are ye doing, lassie ? " he
cried.
The fact was that in her sudden alarm she had grasped
both line and rod more firmly than ever ; and in another
half second the fish must inevitably have broken something.
But this exclamation of his recalled her to her senses — she
let the line go free — got up the rod — and then waited
events — with her heart in her mouth. She had not long to
wait. It very soon appeared to her as if she had hooked
an incarnate flash of lightning ; for there was nothing this
beast did not attempt to do ; now rushiug down the narrow
channel so close to the bank that a single out-jutting twig
must have cut the line ; now lashing on the edge of the
shallows ; twice jerking himself into the air ; and then
settling down in the deep pool, not to sulk, but to twist
and tug at the line in a series of angry snaps. And always
it was " Oh, Ronald, what shall I do now ? " or " Ronald,
what will he do next ? "
" You're doing well enough," said he placidly. " But it
will be a long fight ; and ye must not let him too far down
the stream, or he'll take ye below the footbridge. And
don't give him much line ; follow him, tather."
She Avas immediately called on to act on this advice ; for
with one determined, vicious rush, away went the salmon
down the stream — she after him as well as her Woman's
skirts would allow, and ahvays and valorously she was keep-
ing a tight strain on the pliant rod. A,las }. all of a sudden
her foot caught in a tuft of heather— down she went,
proJde, her arms thrown forward so that nothing could save
A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING 211
her. But did she let go the rod ? Not a bit ! She clung
to it with the one hand ; and when Ronald helped her to
her feet again, she had no thought of herself at all — all her
breathless interest was centred on the salmon. Fortunately
that creature had now taken to sulking, in a pool farther
down ; and she followed him, getting in the line the while.
" But I'm afraid you're hurt," said he.
" Xo, no."
Something was tickling the side of her face. She shifted
the grip of the rod, and passed the back of her right hand
across her ear ; a brief glance showed her that her knuckles
were stained with blood. But she took no further heed ;
for she had to get both hands on the rod again.
" She has pluck, that one," Eonald said to himself ; but
he said nothing aloud, he wanted her to remain as self-
possessed as possible.
" And what if he goes down to the footbridge, Ronald ? "
she said presently.
" But ye must not let him."
" But if he will go ? "
" Then ye'll give me the rod and I'll take it under the
bridge."
The fish lay there as heavy and dead as a stone ; nothing
they could do could stir him an inch.
" The beast has been at this work before," Eonald said.
" That jagging to get the hook out is the trick of an old
hand. But this sulking will never do at all."
He left her and went farther up the stream to the place
where the river ran over the wide bed of shingle. There
he deliberately walked into the water — picking up a few
pebbles as he went — and, with a running leap, crossed the
channel and gained the opposite bank. Then he quickly
walked down to within a yard or two of the spot where the
" dour " salmon lay.
She thought this was very foolish child's play that he
should go and fling little stones at a fish he could not see.
But presently she perceived that he was trying all he could
to get the pebbles to drop vertically and parallel with the
line. And then the object of this device was apparent.
The salmon moved heavily forward, some few inches only.
Another pebble was dropped. This time the fish made a
p 2
212 WHITE HEATHER
violent rush up stream that caused Miss Cany's reel to
shi'iek ; and off she set after him (but with more circum-
spection this time as regards her footing), getting in the
line as rapidly as possible as she went. Ronald now came
over and joined her, and this was comforting to her
nerves.
Well, long before she had killed that fish she had
discovered the difference between loch-fishing and river-
fishing ; but she did kill him in the end ; and mightily
pleased she Avas when she saw him lying on the sere wintry
grass. Eonald would have had her try again ; but she had
had enongh ; it was past lunch time, and she was hungry ;
moreover, she was tired ; and then again she did not wish
that he should waste the whole day. So, when she had
sate down for a while, and watched him tie the salmon head
and tail, they set out for the village again, very well content ;
while as for the slight wound she had received by her ear
catching on a twig of heather when she fell, that was quite
forgotten now.
" And ye are to have the fish," said he. " I told his
lordship this morning you Avere going to try your hand at
the casting : and he said if you got one you would be proud
of it, no doubt, and ye were to keep it, of course."
" Weh, that is very kind ; I suppose I must thank him
if I see him ? "
And she was very curious to know all about Lord Ailine ;
and why he should come to Inver-Mudal merely for these
few hours ; and what kind of people he brought with him
in the autumn. He answered her as well as he could ; and
then they went on to other things — all in a very gay and
merry mood, for he was as proud as she AA'as over this
achievement.
At the same moment Meenie Douglas was in her own
little room, engaged on a work of art of a not very ambitious
kind. She had lying before her on the table a pencil-
sketch in outline of such features of the landscape as could
be seen from the Avindow — the loch, the wooded pro-
montories, Ben Clebrig, and the little clump of trees that
sheltered the inn ; and she AA'as engaged in making a
smaller copy of this drawing, in pen and ink, on a paper-
cutter of broAvn wood. She was not much of an artist,
A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING 213
perhaps ; but surely these simple outliues were recognisable ;
and if they were to be entitled " A Souvenir" and carried
away to the south as a little parting present, might they not
ill some idle moment of the future recall some brief memory
of these northern wilds ? So she was at work on this task
^and very careful that the lines should be clear and precise
— when she heard the sound of voices without — or rather
one voice, which presently she recognised to be Ronald's :
she could not easily mistake it. And if she were to go to
the window and get him to stop for a minute at the gate,
and show him the sketch that she had just about finished —
perhaps he would be pleased ?
She went to the window — but instantly drew back. She
liad just caught a glimpse : it was the American young lady
he was walking with — at a time when he was supposed to
be so busy ; and he was carrying her rod for her and her
ulster as well as the salmon ; and they were laughing and
gaily talking together, like a pair of lovers almost on this
clear spring day. Meenie went slowly back to the table —
her face perhaps a trifle paler than usual ; and she sate
down and began to look at the little drawing that she had
been rather proud of. But her lips were proud and firm.
Why should she give a drawing to any one — more especially
to one who was so ready with his friendship and so quick
to consort with strangers ? Tlie lines on the brown wood
seemed cold and uninteresting ; she was no longer anxious
that they should suggest an accm'ate picture ; nay, she
pushed the thing away from her, and rose, and went back
to the window, and stood idly gazing out there, her lips still
proud, her mien defiant.
And then — well, Ronald was going away. Was it worth
while to let pride or self-love come between them and
becloud these last few days, when perhaps they might never
see each other again ? For well she knew of her mother's
aims and hopes Avith regard to herself ; and well she knew
that — whatever she may have guessed from the verses of
Ronald's which assuredly had never been meant for her to
see — it was neither for him nor for her to expect that the
harsh facts and necessities of the world should give place
and yield to a passing fancy, a dream, a kind of wistful,
half-poetic shadow of what otherwise might have been. But
214 WHITE HEATHER
at least Eonald and she might part friends ; nay, they
should part friends. And so she returned to the table —
overmastering her momentary pride ; and she took up the
discarded little drawing and regarded it with gentler eyes.
For, after all (as she could not forget) Eonald was going
away.
CHAPTER XXII.
POETA . . . NOX FIT.
It soon became obvious that the salmon-fishers from the
other side of the Atlantic had got into a long spell of
deplorably fine weather ; and a gentle melancholy settled
down upon the souls of the gillies. In vain, morning after
morning, the men searched every quarter of the heavens
for any sign of even a couple of days' deluge to flood the
rivers and send the kelts down and bring the clean salmon
up from the sea. This wild and bleak region grew to be
like some soft summer fairyland ; the blue loch and the
yellow headlands, and the far treeless 'stretches of moor lay
basking in the sunlight ; Ben Loyal's purples and browns
were clear to the summit ; Ben Clebrig's snows had nearly
all melted away. Xor could the discontented boatmen
understand how the two strangers should accept this state
of affairs with apparent equanimity. Both were now
provided Avith a book ; and Avhen the rods had been
properly set so as to be ready for any emergency, they
could pass the time pleasantly enough in this perfect
stillness, gliding over the smooth waters, and drinking in
the sweet mountain air. As for ?,Iiss Carry, she had
again attacked the first volume of Gibbon — for she would
not be beaten ; and very startling indeed it was when a
fish did happen to strike the minnow, to be so suddenly
summoned back from Palmyra to this Highland loch. In
perfect silence, with eyes and attention all absented, she
would be reading thus —
" ^Mwll tlie Sijrian queen was Irought into the presence of
Aurelian, he sternly asked her, how she had presumed to rise
in arms against the Emperor of Rome ? The answer of
Zemlia was a prudent mixture of respect and firmness " —
PORTA . . . NON FIT 215
when sharp would come the warning cry of Malcolm —
" There he is, Miss I^there he is ! " — and she would dash
down the historian to find the rod being violently shaken
and the reel screaming out its joyous note. Moreover, in
this still weather, the unusual visitor not unfrcquently
brought some other element of surprise with him. She
acquired a considerable experience of the different forms of
foul-hooking and of the odd manoeuvres of the fish in such
circumstances. On one occasion the salmon caught himself
on the minnow by his dorsal fin ; and for over an hour
contented himself with rolling about under water Avithout
once showing himself, and with such a strain that she
thought he must be the champion fish of the lake : when
at last they did get him into the boat he was found to be a
trifle under ten pounds. But, taken altogether, this cultiva-
tion of literature, varied by an occasional " fluke " of a cap-
ture, and these placid and dreamlike mornings and after-
noons, were far from being as satisfactory as the former and
wilder days when Eonald was in the boat, even with all
their discomforts of wind and rain and snow.
By this time she had acquired another grievance.
"Why did you let him go, pappa, without a single word ? "
she would say, as they sate over their books or newspapers
in the evening. " It was my only chance. You could
easily have introduced yourself to him by speaking of the
shooting "
"You know very well. Carry," he would answer— trying
to draw her into the fields of common sense — " I can say
nothing about that till I see how mother's health is."
" I am sure she would say yes if she saw what the place
has done for you, pappa ; salmon-fishing has proved better
for you than bromide of potassium. Bnt that's not the
trouble at all. Why did you let him go ? Why did you
let him spend the evening at the Doctor's ? — and the next
morning he went about the whole time with Eonald ! My
only chance of spurning a lord, too. Do they kneel in
this country, pappa, when they make their declaration ;
or is that only in plays ? Never mind ; it would be all the
same. ' No, my lord ; the daughter of a free Republic
cannot wed a relic of feudalism ; farewell, my lord, fare
well ! I know that you are heart-broken for life ; but the
2i6 WHITR HEATHER
daughter of a free Eepublic must be true to her manifest
destiny.' "
" Oh, be quiet ! "
" And then the girls at home, when I got back, they
would all have come crowding around : ' Do tell, now, did
you get a British nobleman to propose. Carry ? ' ' What
do you imagine I went to Em'ope f or ? ' ' And you
rejected him ? ' ' You bet your pile on that. Why,
you should have seen him writhe on the floor when I
spurned him ! I spurned him, I tell you I did — ^the
daughter of a free Republic ' "
" Will you be quiet ! "
" But it was really too bad, pappa ! " she protested.
" There he was lounging around all the morning. And all
I heard him say was when he was just going — when he was
on the mail-car, ' Ronald,' he called out, ' have you got a
match about you ? ' — and he had a wooden pipe in his
hand. And that's all I know about the manners and
conversation of the British nobility ; and what will they
say of me at home ? "
" When does Ronald go ? " he would ask ; and this, at
least, was one sure way of bringing her back to the paths of
sanity and soberness ; for the nearer that this departure
came, the more concerned she was about it, having some
faint consciousness that she herself had a share of the
responsibility.
And in another direction, moreover, she was becoming
a little anxious. No message of any kind had arrived from
the Clticago Citizen. Now she had written to Miss Kerfoot
before she left for Paris ; her stay in the French capital
had extended to nearly three weeks ; there was the space
occupied in going and returning ; so that if Jack Huysen
meant to do anything with the verses it was about time
that that should appear. And the more she thought of it
the more she set her heart on it, and hoped that Ronald's
introduction to the reading public would be a flattering one
and one of which he could reasonably be proud. Her
father had it in his power to secure his material advance-
ment ; and that was well enough ; but what if it were
reserved for her to confer a far greater service on him l!
For if this first modest effort were welcomed in a friendly
PORTA . . . MON FIT 217
way, might he not be induced to put forth a volume, and
claim a wider recognition ? It need not interfere with his
more practical work ; and then, supposing it were suc-
cessful ? Look at the status it would win for him — a thing
of far more value in the old country, where society is
gradated into ranks, than in her country, where every one
(except hotel clerks, as she insisted) was on the same plane.
He would then he the equal of anybody — even in this old
England ; she had at least acquired so far a knowledge of
English society. And if he owed the first suggestion and
impulse to her ? — if she were to be the means, in however
small and tentative a fashion, of his ultimately establishing
his fame ? That he could do so if he tried, she never
thought of doubting. She saw him every day, aud the
longer she knew him the more she was certain that the
obvious mental force that seemed to radiate from him in
the ordinary conversation and discussion of everyday life
only wanted to be jjut into a definite literary channel to
make its mark. And was not the time ripe for a poet ?
And it was not Edinburgh, or Glasgow, or London that had
nowadays to decide on his merits, but two great continents
of English-speaking people.
At length came the answer to her urgent prayer — a letter
from Miss Kerfoot and a copy of the Chicago Citizen.
The newspaper she opened first ; saw with delight that a
long notice — a very long notice indeed — had been accorded
to the verses she had sent ; and with a proud heart she
put the paper in her pocket, for careful reading when she
should get down to the lake. Miss Kerfoot's letter she
glanced over ; but it did not say much ; the Avriter observed
that Mr. Jack Huysen had only seemed half pleased when
informed of Carry's extraordinary interest in the phenomenal
Scotch gamekeeper ; and, referring to the article in the
Citizen, she said Jack Huysen had entrusted the writing of
it to Mr. Gr. Quincy Eegan, who was, she understood, one
of the most cultured young men in Chicago, and likely to
make quite a reputation for himself ere long. There were
some other matters mentioned in this letter ; but they need
not detain us here.
Miss Carry was in very high spirits as she set forth from
the inn with her father to walk down to the boats. They
2i8 WHITE HEATHER
met Ronald, too, on their way ; lie was accompanied "by the
man who was to take his place after his leaving ; and Miss
Carry could not help comparing the two of them as they
came along the road. But, after all, it was not outward
appearance that made the real difference between men ; it
was mental stature ; she had that in her pocket which could
show to everybody how Ronald was a head and shoulders
over any of his peers. And she took but little interest in
the setting up of the rods or the selection of the minnows ;
she wanted to be out on the lake, alone, in the silence, to
read line by line and word by word this introduction of her
hero to the public.
The following is the article :
" A Reiiaekable Literary Discovert — Our Fellow-
citizens ABROAD — Another rustic Poet — Chicaoo
CLAiiis HIM. It may be in the recollection of some of our
readers that a few years ago a small party of American
tourists, consisting of Curtis H. Mack, who was one of our
most distinguished major-generals in the rebellion, and is
now serving on the Indian frontier ; his niece, Miss Hettie
F. Doig, a very talented lady and contributor to several of
our best periodicals'; and John Grimsby Patterson, editor of
the Baltimore Evening News, were travelling in Europe,
when they had the good fortune to discover an Irish poet,
Patrick Milligan, who had long languished in obscurity, no
doubt the victim of British jealousy as well as of misrule.
Major-Cleneral Mack interested himself in this poor man,
amd, in conjunction with WiUiam B. Stevens, of Cleveland,
Ohio, had liun brought over to this country, where they
were eventually successful in obtaining for him a post-
mastership in New Petersburg, Conn., leaving him to devote
such time as he pleased to the service of the tuneful nine.
Mr. Milligan's Doric reed has not piped to us much of late
years ; but we must all remember the stirring verses which
he wrote on the occasion of Colonel George W. Will's
nomination for Governor of Connecticut. It has now been
reserved for another party of American travellers, still
better known to us than the above, for they are no other
than our esteemed fellow-citizen, Mr. Josiah Hodson and
his brilliant and accomplished daughter. Miss Caroline
Hodson, to make a similar discovery in the Highlands of
POETA . . . NON FIT 219
Scotland ; and in view of such recurring instances, we may
well ask whether there be not in the mental alertness of
our newer civilisation a capacity for the detection and re-
cognition of intellectual merit which exists not among the
deadening influences of an older and exhausted civilisation.
It has sometimes been charged against this country that we
do not excel in arts and letters ; that we are in a measure
careless of them ; that political problems and material
interests occupy our mind. The present writer, at least, is
in no hurry to repel that charge, odious as it may seem to
some. We, as Americans, should remember that the
Athenian Eepublic, with which our western Eepublic has
nothing to fear in the way of comparison, when it boasted
its most lavish display of artistic and literary culture, was
no less conspicuous for its moral degeneracy and political
corruption. It was in the age of Pericles and of Phidias, of
Socrates and Sophocles, of Euripides and Aristophanes and
Thucydides, that Athens showed herself most profligate ;
private licence was unbridled ; justice was bought and sold ;
generals incited to war that they might fill their pockets
out of the public purse ; and all this spectacle in striking
contrast with the manly virtues of the rude and unlettered
kingdom of Sparta, whose envoys were laughed at because
they had not the trick of Athenian oratory and casuistry.
We say, then, that we are not anxious to repel this charge
brought against our great western Republic, that we assign
to arts and letters a secondary place ; on the contrary, we
are content that the over-cultivation of these should fatten
on the decaying and effete nations of Euroj^e, as phosphorus
shines in rotten wood."
Now she had determined to read every sentence of this
article conscientiously, as something more than a mere
intellectual treat ; but, as she went on, joy did not seem to
be the result. The reference to Patrick Milligan and the
postmastership in Connecticut she considered to be distinctly
impertinent ; but perhaps Jack Huysen had not explained
clearly to the young gentleman all that she had written to
Emma Kerfoot ? Anyhow, she thought, when he came to
Ronald's little Highland poem, he would perhaps drop his
Athenians, and talk more like a reasonable human being.
" That the first strain from the new singer's lyi'e should
226 WHITE HEATHER
be placed at the services of the readers of the Citizen, we
owe to the patriotism of the well-known and charming lady
whose name we have given above ; nor could the verses
have fallen into better hands. In this case there is no need
that Horace should cry to Tyndaris —
0 matre pulchrd filia imlclirior.
Quern criminosis cunque voles inodtim
Pones iambis, sive flammd
Sive mart libet Hadriano.
Moreover, we have received a hint that this may not be
the last piece of the kind with which we may be favoured ;
so that we have again to thank our fair fellow-townswoman
for her kindly attention. But lest our readers may be
growing weary of this j^roJ eg om en o n, ^Ye will at once quote
this latest utterance of the Scottish muse which has come
to us under such favourable auspices : "
Here followed Eonald's poor verses, that perhaps looked
insignificant enough, after this sonorous trmnpet-blaring.
The writer proceeded :
" Now certain qualities in this composition are so obvious
that we need hardly specify them ; we give the writer credit
for simplicity, pathos, and a hearty sympathy with the
victims of the tyrannical greed of the chase-loving British
landlord. But it is with no intent of looking a gift-horse
in the mouth (which would be a poor return for the
courtesy of the lady who has interested herself in the rustic
bard) if we proceed to resolve this piece into its elements,
that we may the more accurately cast the horoscope of this
new applicant for the public applause. To begin with, the
sentiment of nostalgia is but a slender backbone for any
work of literary art. In almost every case it is itself a
fallacy. What were the conditions under which these
people — arbitrarily and tyrannically, it may have been—
were forced away from their homes ? Either they were
bad agriculturists or the land was too poor to support them ;
and in either case their transference to a more generous
soil could be nothing but a benefit to them. Their life
must have been full of privations and cares. Forsan et Imc
oUm meminisse juvahit ; but the pleasure ought to lie in
thinking of the escape ; so that we maintain that to base
any piece of literary work on such a false sentiment as
POET A . . . NON FIT 221
nostalgia is seen to be, leads us to suspect the veracity of
the writer and calls upon us to be on our guard. More-
over, we maintain that it is of the essence of pastoral and
idyllic poetry to be cheerful and jocund ; and it is to be
observed that sadness prevails in poetry only when a nation
has passed its youth and becomes saturated with the regret
of- old age. We prefer the stories told
Where Corydon and Thijrsis viet
Are at their savoury dinner set;
and the lyrist when he sings
Didce ridentem Lalagen amabo,
Dulee Joquentem ;
and we hold that when the poets of a nation are permeated
by a lackadaisical sentiment — when they have the candour
to style themselves the idle singers of an empty day — when
the burden of their song is regret and weariness and a
lamentation over former joys — then it is time for such
poets and the nation they represent to take a back seat in
the lecture halls of literature, and give way to the newer
and stronger race that is bound to dominate the future."
She read no farther ; and it is a great pity that she did
not ; for the writer by and by went on to say some very nice
things about these unlucky verses ; and even hinted that
here was a man who might be benefited by coming to stay
in Chicago, — "the future capital of the future empire of
the world," — and by having his eyes opened as to the rate
of progress possible in these modern days ; and wound up
with a most elaborate compliment to the intellectual per-
spicacity and judgment of Miss Carry herself. She did
not read beyond what is quoted above for the simple reason
that she was in a most violent rage, and also extremely
mortified with herself for being so vexed. She tore the
newspaper into shreds, and crushed these together, and
flung them into the bottom of the boat. Her cheeks were
quite pale ; her eyes burning ; and through all the anger of
her disappointment ran the shame of the consciousness that
it was she who had exposed Konald to this insult. "What
though he should never know anything about it ? Her
friends in Chicago would know. And it was the man whom
223 WHITE HEATHER
she wanted to glorify and make a hero of who had, through
her instrumentality, been subjected to the pedantic criticism,
the pretentious analyses, and, worst of all, the insulting
patronage of this unspeakable ass. Suddenly she regretted
the destruction of the newspaper ; she would like to have
looked at it again, to justify her wrath. No matter ; she
could remember enough ; and she would not forget Jack
Huysen's share in this transaction.
She was very silent and reserved at lunch time ; and her
father began to believe that, after all, in spite of her repeated
assurances, their ill-luck with the fishing was weighing on
her spirits.
"You know, Carry," said he, " it is not in the nature of
things that weather like this can last in the Highlands of
Scotland. It is notoriously one of the wettest places in the
world. There mvM be rain coming soon ; and then think
of all the fish that will be rushing up in shoals, and what a
time we shall have."
" I am not disappointed with the fishing at all, pappa,"
she said. *' I think we have done very well."
" What is the matter, then ? "
" Oh, nothing."
And then she said —
" Well, I will tell you, pappa. I asked Jack Huysen to
do me a very particular favour ; and he did not do it ; and
when I next see Jack Huysen, I think he will find it a very
cold day."
The words were mysterious ; but the tone was enough.
And all the afternoon she sate in the stern of the coble
and brooded, composing imaginary letters to the editor of
the NciD Yorlc Herald, to the editor of the Nation, to the
editor of the Chicago Trihune, to the editor of Puclc, and
a great many other journals, all of these phantom epistles
beginning " As an American girl I appeal to you," and
proceeding to beg of the editor to hold up to merciless
scorn a certain feeble, shallow, and impertinent article
(herewith enclosed) which had appeared in the Ghicarjo
Citizen. And on the way home, too, in the evening, she
began to question her father as to his personal acquaintance
with editors and journalists, which seemed to be of the
slightest ; and she at length admitted that she wanted sbme
POETA . . . NON FIT 223
one to reply — and sharply — to an article that had been
written about a friend of hers.
" You let that alone," her father said. " It's not very
easy for any one to meddle in the politics of our country
without coming out more or less tattooed ; for they don't
mind what they say about you ; and you are very well to
be out of it."
" It isn't politics at all," she said. " And — and — the
article is written about a friend of mine — and — I want to
have the writer told what a fool he is."
" But probably he would not believe it," her father said
quietly.
" He would see that some one else believed it."
" I am not sure that that would hurt him much," was the
unsatisfactory answer.
When they drew near to Inver-JMudal she found herself
quite afraid and ashamed at the thought of their possibly
meeting- Ronald, Had she not betrayed him ? He had
sought for no recognition ; probalily he was too proud or
too manly and careless about what any one might write of
him ; it was she who had put him into that suppliant atti-
tude, and brought upon him the insolent encouragement of
a microcephalous fool. This was the return she had made
him for all his kindness to her father and to herself. Why,
he had told her to Ixirn the verses ! And to think that she
should have been the means of submitting them to the
scrutiny and patronage of this jackanapes — and that Mr. J.
C. Huysen should as good as say " Well, this is what we
think of your prodigy "■ — all this was near bringing tears of
rage to her eyes. For Miss Carry, it must be repeated, was
" a real good fellow," and very loyal to her friends, and
impatient of injustice done them ; and perhaps, uncon-
sciously to herself, she may have felt some of the consterna-
tion of the wild animal whose duty it is to protect her mate
with her superior feminine watchfulness, and who, through
neglect or carelessness, allows the destroyer to come in and
slay. In any case, it certainly promised to be " a very cold
day " for Mr. Jack Huysen when these two should meet in
Chicago.
That night, after dinner, father and daughter went out
for a stroll ; for by this time the moon was drawing to its
224
WHITE HE A THER
full again ; and all the world lay peaceful and silent in the
wan clear light. They had not emerged from the trees in
front of the inn on to the white pathway of the road when
a sound in the distance caught Miss Carry's ears, and
instantly she touched her father's arm and drew him back
into the shadow. She wanted to hear what song this was
that Eouald was singing on his homeward way.
At first she could make out nothing but fragments of
the air — clear and soft and distant —
^^
•^ »«— I — ^ 1^ »« — 1 »'. • . — I
n*^ .- T — I fs— ^^^^5^T — r^- — -r-»-f^ ^ '-m-V^-m—^
but as he drew nearer the words became more distinct :
And kiss'd her ripe ros - ee, and blest her black c;*e ; And ay
when - e'er we meet,
kI? I
3=it
;f-^li
feiiig, for the sound is sweet,
sleep but ye've wak - en'd me.'
So clear and penetrating and careless and joyous was
this singing ! — her heart was stirred with pride as she
listened ; this was not the voice of a man who would trouble
himself with any whipper-snapper criticism ; — nay, she began
to wonder that she had wasted so much iudignation on so
trivial a thing. Then there was a sudden silence, except
for his footfall ; and presently the dark figure appeared out
there on the white road— his shadow a sharp black in front
of him, the little terrier trotting behind him — and in a
minute or so the long swinging stride had carried him past
their ambush on his homeward way to the cottage.
" "What a splendid voice that fellow has got ! " her father
said, as they also now went out on to the white highway,
and took the opposite direction.
" He seems to be very well contented with himself," she
jsaid, rather absently.
A LAST DA V ON THE LOCH 225
CHAPTEE XXIII.
A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH.
Ronald came down to the loch-side the next morning just
as she was about to get into the coble — her father having
started a few minutes before.
" I hear you have not been doing very well with the fish-
ing," said he, in that brisk, business-like fashion of his.
" The salmon appear to have gone away somewhere," she
replied.
" Oh, but that will never do," said he cheerfully. " We
must try and make some alteration."
He took the key of the kennels from his pocket.
"Here, Johnnie lad, ye may go and take the dogs out
for a run."
Was Ronald, then, coming with her ? Her eyes brightened
with anticipation ; there was a welcome in the look of her
face that ought to have been sufficient reward for him.
IsTor had she the courage to protest — though she knew that
his time was drawing short now. As for the salmon — well,
it was not about salmon she was thinking exclusively.
" They say a change of gillie sometimes brings a change
of luck," said he good-naturedly ; and he began to overhaul
the tackle, substituting smaller minnows for those already
on. " And I think we will try down at the other end of
the loch this time. We will make sure of some trout in
any case."
" But it is so far away, Ronald ; are you certain you can
afford the time .? " she was bound, in common fairness, to
ask.
' ' Oh yes, I can afford the time," said he, " even if this
should have to be my last day on the loch. Besides, if we
do not treat you well, maybe you'll never come back."
" And what is the use of our coming back, when you
won't be here ? " she was on the point of saying, but she
did not say it, fortunately.
Then they set forth, on this still summer-like day ; and
they hailed the other boat in passing, and told them of their
intended voyage of exploration. Indeed their prospects of
226 WHITE HEATHER
sport at the setting out were anything hut promising ; the
long levels of the lake were mostly of a pale glassy blue and
white ; and the little puffs of wind that stirred the sur-
face here and there into a shimmer of silver invariably died
down again, leaving the water to become a mirror once
more of rock and tree and hill. But she was well content.
This was an unknown world into which they were now
penetrating ; and it was a good deal more beautiful than
the upper end of the lake (where the best fishing ground
was) with which they had grown so familiar. Here were
hanging woods coming right down to the water's edge ; and
lofty and precipitous crags stretching away into the pale
blue sky ; and winding bays and picturesque shores where
the huge boulders, green and white and yellow with lichen,
and the rich velvet moss, and the withered bracken, and
the silver-clear stems of the birch-trees were all brilliant in
the sun. The only living creatures that seemed to inhabit
this strange silent region were the birds. A pair of eagles
slowly circled round and round, but at so great a height
that they were but a couple of specks which the eye was apt
to lose ; black -throated divers and golden-eyed divers, dis-
turbed by these unusual visitors, rose from the water and
went whirring by to the upper stretches of the lake ; a hen-
harrier hovered in mid-air, causing a frantic commotion
among the smaller birds beneath ; the curlews, now wheel-
ing about in pairs, uttered their long warning whistle ; the
peewits called angrily, flying zig-zag, with audible whuffing
of their soft broad wings ; the brilliant Httle redshanks fiew
like a flash along the shore, just skimming the water ; and
two great wild-geese went by overhead, with loud, harsh
croak. And ever it was Eonald's keen eye that first caught
sight of them ; and he would draw her attention to them ;
and tell her the names of them all. And at last — as they
were coming out of one of the small glassy bays, and as he
was idly regarding the tall and rocky crags that rose above
the birchwoods — he laughed lightly.
" Ye glaiket things," said he, as if he were recognising
some old friends, " what brings ye in among the sheep ? "
" What is it, Pionald .? " she asked — and she followed the
direction of his look towards those lofty crags, but could
make dtit riothing unusual.
A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH 227
*' Dinna ye see the hinds ? " he said quietly.
" Where — where ? " she cried, in great excitement ; for
she had not seen a single deer all the time of her stay.
"At the edge of the brown corrie — near the sky-line.
There are three of them — dinna ye see them ? "
" No, I don't ! " she said impatiently.
" Do ye see the two sheep ? "
" I see two white specks — I suppose they're sheep. "
" Well — just above them."
But the boat was slowly moving all this time ; and pre-
sently the gradual change in their position brought one of
the hinds clear into view on the sky-line. The beautiful
creature, with its graceful neck, small head, and upraised
ears, was evidently watching them, but with no apparent
intention of making off ; and presently Miss Carry, whose
eyes were becoming better accustomed to the place, could
make out the other two hinds, one of them lying on the
grass, the other contentedly feeding, and paying no heed
whatever to the passing boat.
"I thought you said the sheep drove them away," she
said to him,
" It's the men and the dogs mostly," he answered. " Some-
times they will come in among the sheep like that, if the
feeding tempts them. My word, that would be an easy
stalk now — if it was the season."
Very soon they found that the three hinds were no longer
in view ; but there were plenty of other things to claim their
attention on this solitary voyage. What, for example, was
this great circular mass of stones standing on a projecting
promontory ? These were the remains, he explained to
her, of a Pictish fort. Anotlier, in better preservation, was
on the opposite shore ; and, if she cared to visit it, she
might make her way into the hollow passages constructed
between the double line of wall, if she were not afraid of
adders, nor yet of some of the uncemented stones falling
upon her.
" And what are these ? " she said, indicating the ruins of
certain circles formed on the hill-plateaux just above the
loch.
" They're down in the Ordnance Survey as ' hut-circles,' "
he said, " but that is all I know about them."
Q 2
228 WHITE HEATHER
" At all events, there must have been plenty of people
living- here at one time ? "
" I suppose so."
" Well, I don't think I ever saw any place in our country
looking quite so lonely as that," she said, regarding the
voiceless solitudes of Avood and hill and crag. " Seems as if
with us there Avas always some one around — camping out,
or something— but I dare say in Dacotah or Idaho you
Avould get lonelier places than this even. Well, noAV, what
do they call it ? " she asked, as an afterthought.
" What ?— the strath here ? "
" Yes."
" I suppose they would call it part of Strath-Naver."
The mere mention of Strath-Naver struck a chill to her
heart. It recalled to her how she had betrayed him by
sending those harmless verses across the Atlantic, and sub-
jecting them to the insolence of a nincompoop's patronage.
And if Ronald should ever get to know ? Might not some
busybody send him a copy of the paper ? These Scotch
people had so many relatives and friends all through the
States. Or perhaps his brother in Glasgow might have
some correspondent over there ? She dared not look him
in the face, she felt so guilty ; and once or twice she was
almost on the point of confessing everything, and begging
for his forgiveness, and getting him to promise that he
Avould not read the article should it ever be sent to him.
And then it occurred to her as a very* strange thing that
from the moment of Ronald's appearance that morning at
the loch-side until now she had never even given a thought
to AA'hat had caused her so much annoyance the day before.
His very presence seemed to bring with it an atmosphere
of I'epose and safety and self-conhdence. When she had
seen him go stalking by on the previous night, she had in-
stantly said to herself — " Oh, that is not the kind of man
to Avorry about Avhat is said of him." And this morning,
Avhen he came down to the boat, she had never thought of
him as a criticised and suffering poet, but as — well, as the
Ronald that all of them kncAv and were familiar with — self-
reliant, good-natured, masterful in his Avay, and ever ready
Avith a laugh and a song and a jest, save when there was
any young lady there, to make him a Uttle more demure
A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH 229
and respectful in his manner. Ronald a disappointed poet ?
— Ronald suffering agony because a two-for-a-quarter kind
of a creature out there in Chicago did not think well of
him ? She ventured to lift her eyes a little. He Avas not
looking her way at all. He was regarding the shore in-
tently ; and there was a quiet and humorous smile on the
hard-set, sun-tanned face.
" There are six — seven — blackcocks ; do ye see them ? "
" Oh yes ; what handsome birds they are ! " she said,
with a curious sense of relief.
" Ay," said he, " the lads are very friendly amongst them-
selves just now ; but soon there will be wars and rumours
of wars when they begin to set up house each for himself.
There will be many a pitched battle on those knolls there.
Handsome ? Ay, they're handsome enough ; but hand-
some is as handsome does. The blackcock is not nearly
as good a fellow as the grousecock, that stays with his
family, and protects them, and gives them the first warning
cry if there's danger. These rascals there wander off by
themselves, and leave their wives and children to get on as
they can. They're handsome — but they're ne'cr-do-weels.
There's one thing : the villain has a price put on his head ;
for a man would rather bring down one old cock thumping
on the grass than fill his bag with gray hens."
A disappointed poet indeed ! And she was so glad to
find him talking in his usual half bantering careless fashion
(that he should talk in any other way was only a wild sug-
gestion of her own conscience, struck with a qualm on the
mention of Strath-Naver) that she made many inquiries
about the habits of black game and similar creatures ; and
was apparently much interested ; and all the while was
vowing within herself that she would think no more of the
mortifying disappointment she had met with, but would
give up this last day on the loch wholly to such fancies and
(juiet amusements as she would like to look back upon in
after hours.
And a very pleasant day they spent in this still, silent,
beautiful region, cut off from all of the world, as it were.
There were plenty of trout, and therefore there was plenty
of occupation ; moreover, one or two good-sized sea-trout
added to the value of the basket. Nor was this solitary
230 WHITE HEATHER
district quite so untenanted as she had supposed. About
mid-day it occurred to her that she was becoming hungry ;
and then the wild reflection flashed on her that the kmch
was in the other boat — some eight miles away. She con-
fided her perplexity — her despair — to Ronald.
" It is my fault," he said, with vexation very visible in
his face. " I should have remembered. But — but — " he
added timidly — for he was not accustomed to ministering
to the wants of young ladies — " I could get ye some bread
and a drink of milk, if that would do."
" What, right here ? "
"Yes."
" Why, nothing could be better ! "
They were rowing the boat ashore by this time ; and
when they had got to land, he leaped on to the beach, and
presently disappeared. In little more than a quarter of an
hour he was back again, bringing with him a substantial
loaf of home-made bread and a large jug of milk.
" Well done I " she said, " There's plenty for all of us.
Lend me your knife, Eonald."
" Oh no," said he, " it's for you."
And a hard fight she had of it ere she could get the two
men to accept a fair division ; but she had her way in the
end ; and Ronald, seeing that she was determined they
should share the milk also (she drank first, and handed the
jug to him quite as a matter of course), swiftly and stealthily
pulled off the cup from his whisky-flask, and old Malcolm
and he drank from that, pouring the milk into it from the
jug. It was a frugal picnic ; but she Avas very happy ; and
she was telling him that when he came to Chicago, and
they were showing him the beauties of Lake IMichigan, they
might give him a grander luncheon than this, but none
more comfortable.
In the afternoon they set out for home, picking up a
few more trout by the way ; and when they at length drew
near to the upper waters of the lake they found the other
boat still pursuing its unwearied round. Moreover Mr.
Hodson's strict attention to business had been rewarded
by the capture of a handsome fish of sixteen pounds ;
whereas they had nothing but a miscellaneous collection of
bro^YU and white trout. But, just as they were thinking of
A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH 231
goiiig ashore, for the dnsk was now coming on, a niSst
extraordinary piece of luck befell them. Miss Carry was
scarcely thinking of the rods when the sudden shriek of
one of the reels startled her out of her idle contemplation.
" Surely that is a salmon, Eonald ! " she cried, as she
instantly grasped the rod and got it up.
He did not stay to answer, for his business was to get in
the other line as fast as possible. But he had just got
this second rod into his hand when lo ! there was a tugging
and another scream of a reel — there was now a salmon at
each of the lines ! It was a position of the direst danger —
for a single cross rush of either of the fish must inevitably
break both off — and how were they to be kept separate,
with both rods confined to one boat ? Eonald did not lose
his head.
" Eow ashore, Malcolm — row ashore, man ! " he shouted
— " fast as ever ye can, man ! "
Nor did he wait until the bow had touched land ; he
slipped over the edge of the boat while as yet the Avater
was deep enough to take him up to the waist ; and away he
Avaded, taking the one rod with him, and slowly increasing
the distance between the two fish. By the time he got
ashore there was a hundred yards or so between them, and
he did not attempt to play this salmon at all ; he gave it
plenty of law ; and merely waited to see the end of Miss
Carry's struggle.
She hardly knew what had happened, except that Eonald's
going away had left her very nervous and excited and help-
less. How was she ever to land a fish unless he was at her
shoulder directing her ? But by this time old Malcolm had
jammed the bow of the boat on to the beach, had got in the
oars, and now sate patiently waiting, clip in hand.
The fish was not a very game one, though he was no kelfc.
" Put a good strain on him, Miss," said old Malcolm —
v,'ho had been taking a sly look round. " Eonald's keeping
the other one for ye."
" What do you say ? " she called to him — rather breath-
lessly.
" Eonald wiU be wanting ye to play the other fish too,"
said the old man. " And a wonderful fine thing, if we can
get them both — oh yes, indeed. It is not an ordinary
232 WHITE HE A THER
thing to hook two sahnon at once and land them both — I
wass neffer seeing that done except once before."
" Beast ! " she said, between her teeth — for the fish made
a desperate rush away out into the loch, with a magnificent
flourish in the air as a finish. But no harm was done ;
indeed, it was about his last strong effort to free himself.
Yard after yard of the line was got in again ; his struggles
to get away grew less and less vigorous ; at last the old
Highlander made an adventurous swoop with the clip, and
was successful in landing the brilliant creature in the bottom
of the boat.
" Now, Miss," he cried, " leave him to me — leave him to
me. Quick, get ashore, and try for the other one. And
will you take the clip ? "
He was greatly excited by this unusual adventure ; and
so was she — and breathless, moreover ; but she managed to
do as she was bid. She got rather wet in getting ashore ;
for Konald was not there to help her ; but she had no time
to mind that ; she .made her way as rapidly as she could
along the bank, and there was Eonald awaiting her, with a
quiet smile on his face.
" This is better work," said he placidly, as he gave her
the rod.
She was anxious no longer ; she was triumphant, Eonald
was with her ; of course she would get this one also. And
who but Eonald would have brought such a stroke of luck
to the boat ?
" I would get in some of the line now," said he calmly.
" I have been letting him do as he liked ; and he is a long
way out. And mind, you'll have to watch him ; he is quite
fresh ; there has been no fighting at all yet."
" Oh, Eonald," she said, with the pretty pale face grown
quite rosy with the excitement and the hard work, " won't
it be just too splendid for anything if we can get them
both!"
" I hope ye may," he said, " for it's not likely to happen
again in your lifetime."
The fish now began to rebel against the new strain that
Avas being put on him, and indulged in a variety of audacious
cantrips — apparently at a considerable distance out. By
this time the other boat was also ashore, and Miss Carry's
A LAST DA Y ON THE LOCH 233
father came along to see how Ronald's pupil could play a
salmon. Just as he drew near, there was a pretty lively
scrimmage going on,
" Why, you want to have them all," he complained. " It
is not fair sport to bag a brace of salmon right and left."
She did not answer — in fact, she could not ; she had
enough to do. For now the salmon seemed wanting to
get right out to the middle of the lake ; and the length of
line that lay between her and her enemy dragged heavily
on her arms. And then he altered his tactics — coming
rapidly to the surface and trying to break the suddenly
slackened line by furious lashings of his tail. But all this
was in vain ; and now, as he seemed yielding a little, she
put a heavier strain on him, and began to reel up. It was
very well done, and without a word of admonition ; for
Ronald was proud of his pupil, and wished to show that he
could leave her to herself.
By and by the fish began to show himself a little more
amenable, and preparations were made for receiving him on
shore. Miss Carry stepped back a few yards ; her father
got out of the Avay altogether ; Ronald crouched down,
clip in hand. Of course, when the salmon found himself
being guided into the shallows, he was off like a bolt ; and
again and again he repeated these sullen ruslies ; but each
time they were growing weaker ; and at last, as the gleam
of something white showed in the water, Ronald made a
sudden plunge with the clip — and the salmon was ashore.
He laughed.
" I suppose this will be my last day on the loch, and a
very good finish it is."
The men brought along the other fish, and these were
all laid out on the grass side by side, though it was now
too dark to see much of them. As regards the three
salmon, Mr. Hodson's, on being accurately weighed, was
found to be sixteen and a half pounds, ]\Iiss Carry's two
respectively fourteen pounds and eleven pounds. She was
a very happy young woman as she walked home with her
father and Ronald through the now rapidly gathering dusk.
His last day on the lake : — well, it would be something
pleasant to look back upon in after times — the summer-like
weather, the still water, the silent and sunlit craG,s and woods
254 WHITE HE A THER
and bays. And j)erhaps, too, he would remember some-
thing of her bright society, her friendly disioosition, and the
frank good-comradeship with which she shared her meal of
milk and bread with two common boatmen. Nay, he could
not well help remembering that — and with a touch of grati-
tude and kindness, too — even though they should never
meet again through the long years of life.
CHAPTEE XXIV.
THE PARTINfl.
Now amid all his preparations for departure nothing dis-
tressed him so much as the difficulty he found in trying to
write something worthy of being placed in Meenie's book.
It was to be his last gift to her ; she herself had asked for
it ; surely he ought to do his best ? And perhaps it was
this very anxiety that baffled him. Even of such small
lyrical faculty as he possessed, he was in no sense the
master. He could write easily enough at the instigation
of some passing fancy ; but the fancy had to come uncalled-
for ; it was not of his summoning. And now, in this hour
of direst need, no kindly Ariel would come to help him.
Walking across the lonely moors, Avith the dogs for his sole
companions, or lying on a far hillside, and tearing twigs of
heather with his teeth, he worried his brain for a subject,
and all to no purpose. Perhaps, if praise of Meenie had
been permissible — if he could have dared to write anything
about herself in her own book — he might have found the
task more easy ; for that was the one direction in which
his imagination was always facile enough. One morning,
indeed, when he was coming down the Clebrig slopes, he
saw Miss Carry and Meenie walking together along the
road ; and he had not much difficulty in shaping out some
such verses as these — jingling the rhymes together without
much concern about the sense, and then scribbling the
result on the back of an envelope to see how it looked :
By MuclaVs river she idly strayed,
Aiid drank afresh tho. morning breeze:
Tell me, you heautiful darli-eyed maid.
That's come across the Atlantic seas —
THE PARTING 235
/See \joM our winsome Sutherlaiid flower.
Her cheek the tint of the summer rose.
Her gokl-hroion hair her only dower.
Her soul as ivhite as Ben Clehricfs snows;
Blue as the ruffled loch her eyes,
Sweet her breath as the blossoming heather:
0 do you thinlc the lohole icorld's skies
Can see aught fairer than you together i
Sisters twain — one slender and dark,
Her cheek faint-tanned by the tropic south;
One Northern bred. Iter voice like a lark,
Tlie joy of the hills in her gladsome youth.
Ben Clebrig shall judge — nay, shall keep the two.
And bind them in chains of love for ever;
Look to it, Clebrig ; guard them' true :
Sisters twain— and icliy should they sever'?
But even here there was a false note ; and he knew it.
Perhaps he was vaguely jealous of any alien interference :
was not Meenie the sole and only care of the giant
mountain ? Anyhow, the verses were of no avail for
Meenie's book ; and otherwise he did not care for them ;
so the envelope was crumpled up and thrown away.
On the evening before the brother and sister were to
leave for the south, Meenie came along to see them.
Ronald had got quite accustomed to find Miss Douglas in
the house of late ; for Maggie needed a good deal of
direction and help — the tearful little lass being sorely
distraught at the thought of going away. But on this
occasion it v;as himself she had come to seek.
" I have made a little drawing for you, Ronald," said she
— and the beautiful Highland eyes were downcast a little
• — ■" as well as I could, of the loch and the hills and the
river ; and I want you to take it to Glasgow with you, and
put it on the mantelpiece of your room, and then sometimes
it will make you think of the old place and of us all."
" I'm sure it will not need a picture to make me do that,"
said he, " but all the same I am obliged to ye, and it will
be the chief treasure in the house "
" Oh no, oh no," she said, with a rueful smile — and
she ventured to raise her eyes. " You must not think it a
picture at all — but only a few lines scribbled on a paper-
236 WHITE HEATHER
knife to make you remember the place when you happen
to find it lying about. And you must not look at it until
I have gone, because you would feel bound to praise it ;
and that would be as awkward for you as for me — for
indeed it is nothing at all. And here," she added, producing
a small slip of paper, " is my sister's address in Glasgow ;
and I have written to her ; and she will be very glad if yoa
will call on them when you have the time."
" I don't know how to thank ye," said he. " It's when
people are going away that they find out how many friends
they are leaving behind."
" In your case," said she, very modestly and prettily, " it
is not difficult to count — you have only to say the whole
country-side." And then she added : " I heard of the lads
that came all the way from Tongue."
" The wild fellows ! — they had a long tramp here and
back home again."
She looked at him rather hesitatingly.
" There will be fi great many coming to see you off
to-morrow morning, Ronald," she said.
" I should think not — I should think not," he said.
" Oh, but I know there will be. Every one is talking of
it. And I was thinking — if it Avas not too much trouble —
if you were not too busy — I was wondering if you Avould
come along and say good-bye to my father and mother this
evening — ^I would rather have that than — than — with a
crowd of people standing by "
" Oh yes, certainly," he said, at once. " When will I
come ? Xow, if ye like."
" And Maggie too ? "
" Yes, yes, why not ? "
" And about my album, Eonald ? "
" Well," said he, with not a little embarrassment, " I have
not written anything in it yet ; but I will give it to you in
the morning ; and — and if there's nothing in it, then ye
must just understand that I could not get anything good
enough, and I will send something from Glasgow "
" Indeed no," said she promptly. " Why should you
trouble about a thing like that ? Write your name in the
book, Eonald, and that will be enough."
The three of them now went outside, and the door was
THE PARTING 237
shut behind them. It was a beautiful night ; the moon
was slowly rising over the solitudes of Strath-Terry ; and
the lake was like a sheet of silver. They were rather
silent as they walked along the gray highway ; to-morrow
was to make a difference to all of theh lives.
When they reached the Doctor's cottage, and when
Ronald and Maggie were ushered into the parlom*, it was
clear that the visit had been expected ; for there was cake
on the table, and there were plates and knives, and a
decanter of sherry, and a number of wine-glasses. And
not only was the big good-humoured Doctor as friendly as
ever, but even the awe-inspiring little Dresden-china lady
condescended, in these unusual circumstances, to be gracious.
Of course the talk was all about Eonald's going away, and
his prospects in Glasgow, and so forth ; and Mrs. Douglas
took care to impress him with the fact that, on the occasion
of Lord Ailine having recently spent an evening with them,
his lordship had distinctly approved of the step Ronald
had taken, and hoped it might turn out well in every way,
" Will there be any office work, Ronald ? " the Doctor
asked.
" I suppose so, for a time."
" You'll not like that, my lad."
" I'll have to take what comes-, like other folk," was the
simple answer.
How pretty Meenie was on this last evening ! She did
not say much ; and she hardly ever looked at him ; but
her presence, then as ever, seemed to bring with it an
atmosphere of gentleness and sweetness ; and when, by
chance, she did happen to regard him, there was a kind of
magic Avonder in her eyes that for the moment rather
bedazzled him and made his answers to these good people's
inquiries somewhat inconsecutive. For they were curious
to know about his plans and schemes ; and showed much
interest in his welfare ; while all the time he sate thinking
of how strange Glasgow would be without the chance of
catching a glimpse of Meenie anywhere ; and wondering
whether his dream-sweetheart — the imaginary Meenie whom
he courted and wooed and won in these idle verses of his
—would be nearer to him there, or would fade gradually
away and finally disappear.
238 WHITE HEATHER
" In any case, Ronald," said Mrs. Douglas — and she
thus addressed him for the first time, " you have a good
friend in his lordship."
" I know that."
" I suppose I am breaking no confidence," continued
the little dame, in her grand way, " in saying that he plainly
intimated to us his willingness, supposing that you were
not as successful as we all hope you may be — I say, his
lordship plainly intimated to us that he would always have
a place open for you somewhere,"
"Yes, I think he would do that," Ronald said; "but
when a man has once put his hand to the ploagh he must
not go back."
And perhaps, for one feeble moment of indecision, he
asked himself what had ever tempted him to put his hand
to the plough, and to go away from this quiet security
and friendliness and peace. But it was only for a moment.
Of course, all that had been argued out before. The step
had been taken ; forwards, and not backwards, he must go.
Still, to be sitting in this quiet little room — with the strange
consciousness that Meenie was so near — watching the
nimble, small fingers busy with her knitting — and wonder-
ing when she would raise those beautiful, deep, tender, clear
eyes ; and to think that on the morrow hour after hour
would be placing a greater and greater distance between
him and the possibility of any such another evening-
nay, that it was not only miles but years, and perhaps a
whole lifetime, that he was placing between her and him —
that was no joyful kind of a fancy. If it had been Meenie
who was going away, that would have been easier to bear.
"Call her had; Clebrig ; Mudal, call;
Ere all of the young springtime he jloion "
he would have cried to hill and river and loch and glen,
knowing that sooner or later Love Meenie would come
liack from Cllasgow Town. But his own going away was
very different — and perhaps a final thing.
By and by he rose, and begged to be excused. Maggie
might stay for a while longer with Miss Douglas, if she
liked ; as for him, he had some matters to attend to. And
so they bade him good-bye, and wished him well, and hoped
THE PARTING 239
to hear all good things of him. Thus they parted ; and he
went out by himself into the clear moonlight night.
But he did not go home. A strange unrest and longing
had seized him ; a desire to be alone with the silence of the
night ; perhaps some angry impatience that he could not
make out so much as a few trivial verses for this beautiful
girl-friend whom he might never see again. He could
write about his dream-sweetheart easily enough ; and was
there to be never a word for Meenie herself ? So he walked
down to the river ; and wandered along the winding and
marshy banks — startling many wildfowl the while — until
he reached the lake. There he launched one of the cobles,
and pulled out to the middle of the still sheet of water ;
and took the oars in again. By this time the redshank and
curlews and plover had quieted down once more ; there was
a deadly stillness all around ; and he had persuaded himself
that he had only come to have a last look at the hills and
the loch and the moorland wastes that Meenie had made
magical for him in the years now left behind ; and to bid
farewell to these ; and carry away in his memory a beautiful
picture of them.
It was a lonely and a silent world. There was not a
sound save the distant murmur of a stream ; no breath of
wind came down from the Clebrig slopes to ruffle the broad
silver sweeps of moonlight on the water ; the tiny hamlet
half hidden among the trees gave no sign of life. The
cottage he had left — the white front of it now palely clear
in the distance — seemed a ghostly thing : a small, solitary,
forsaken thing, in the midst of this vast amphitheatre of
hills that stood in awful commune with the stars. On such
a night the wide and vacant spaces can readily become
peopled ; phantoms issue from the shadows of the woods
and grow white in the open ; an unknown wind may arise,
bringing with it strange singing from the northern seas.
And if he forgot the immediate purpose of the verses that
he wanted ; if he forgot that he must not mention the
name of Meenie ; if he saw only the little cottage, and the
moonlit loch, and the giant bulk of Clebrig that was keeping
guard over the sleeping hamlet, and watching that no sprites
or spectres should work their evil charms within reach of
Meenie's haH-hstening ear — well, it was all a fire in his
240 WHITE HE A THER
blood and his brain, and he could not stay to consider.
The phantom-world was revealed ; the silence now was filled
as with a cry from the lone seas of the far north ; and, all
impatient and eager and half bewildered, he seemed to press
forward to seize those visions and that weird music ere both
should vanish and be mute : —
The moonligld lies on Loch Naver,
And the night is strange and still ;
And the stars are tioinlding coldly
Above the Clehrig hill.
And there hy the side of the water,
0 ivhat strange shapes are these ?
0 these are the wild witch-maidens
Down from the northern seas.
And they stand in a magic circle,
Pale in tlic moonlight sheen;
And each has over her forehead
A star of golden green,
0 loliat is their song ? — of sailors
That never again shall sail;
And the music soimds like the sobbing
And sighing that brings a gale.
Bui who is she who comes yonder 'i—
And all in lohite is she ;
And her eyes are open, but nothing
Of the outward tcorld can she see.
0 haste you back, Meenie, haste you,
And haste to your bed again;
For these are the wild witch-maidens
Down from the northern main.
Tliey open the magic circle ;
TItey draw her into the ring;
TJiey kneel before her, and slowly
A strange, sad song they sing —
A strange, sad song — as of sailors
That never again shall sail ;
And the music sounds like the sobbing
And sighing that brings a gale.
0 haste you back, Meenie, haste you.
And haste to your bed again ;
For these are the wild witch-maidens
Down from the northern main.
THE PARTING 241
" 0 come with us, rose-ichite Mecnie,
To our sea-halls draped with green;
0 come loitli us, rose-white Meenie,
And he our rose-white queen !
*'And you shall have robes of splendour,
With shells and pearls besfrewn ;
And a sceptre olden and golden,
And a rose-white coral throne.
^^ And by day you ivill hear the music
Of the ocean come nigher and niglier ;
And by night you will see your palace
Ablaze loHh phosphor fire.
" 0 come loith us, rose-ichite Meenie,
To our sea-halls draped ivith green ;
0 come icith us, rose-iohite Meenie,
And be our rose-white queen ! "
But Clebrig heard; and the thunder
JJoivn from his iron hand sped ;
And the band of the loild ivitch-maidens
One swift shriek uttered, and fled.
And Meenie awoke, and terror
And ivonder were in her eyes ;
And she looked at the moon-white valley.
And she looked to the starlit skies.
0 haste you back, Meenie, haste you,
And haste to your bed again ;
For these are the wild witch-maidens
Down from the northern main.
0 hear you not yet their singing
Gome faintly back on the breeze ? —
The song of tlte wild tvitch-sisters
As they fly to the Iceland seas.
0 hark — His a sound like the sobbing
And sighing that brings a gale :
A low, sad song — as of sailors
That never again shall sail!
Slowly lie pulled in to the shore again, and fastened up
the boat ; and slowly he walked away through the silent
and moonlit landscape, revolving these verses in his mind,
but not trying in the least to estimate their value, supposing
them to have any at all. Even when he had got home, and
in the stillness of his own room — for by this time Maggie
R
242 WHITE HEATHER
had gone to bed — was wi'iting out the hnes, with apparent
ease enough, on a large sheet of paper, it was with no kind
of critical doubt or anxiety. He could not have written
them otherwise ; probably he knew he was not likely to
make them any better by over-refining them. And the
reason why he put them down on the large sheet of paper
was that Meenie's name occurred in them ; and she might not
like that familiarity to appear in her album ; he would fold
the sheet of paper and place it in the book, and she could
let it remain there or burn it as she chose. And then he
went and had his supper, which Maggie had left warm by
the fire, and thereafter lit a pipe — or rather two or three
pipes, as it befell, for this was the last night before his leaving
Inver-J\Iudal, and there were many dreams and reveries (and
even fantastic possibilities) to be dismissed for ever.
The next morning, of course, there was no time or room
for poetic fancies. AYhen he had got Maggie to take along
the little book to the Doctor's cottage, he set about making
his final preparations, and here he was assisted by his suc-
cessor, one Peter Munro. Finally he went to say good-bye
to the dogs.
" Good-bye, doggies, good-bye," said he, as they came
bounding to the front of the kennel, pawing at him through
the Avooden bars, and barking and whining, and trying to
lick his hand. " Good-bye, Bess ! Good-ljye, Lugar — lad,
lad, we've had many a day on the hill together."
And then he turned sharply to his companion.
" Ye'll not forget what I told you about that dog,
Peter?"
" I will not," said the other.
"If I thought that dog was not to be looked after, I
would get out my rifle this very minute and put a l^ullet
through his head — though it would cost me £7. Mind
what I've told ye now ; if he's not fed separate, he'U starve ;
he's that gentle and shy that he'll not go near the trough
when the others are feeding. And a single cross word on
the hill will spoil him for the day — mind you tell any strange
gentlemen that come up with his lordship — some o' them
keep roaring at dogs as if they were bull-calves. There's
not a better setter in the county of Sutherland than that
old Lugar — but he wants civil treatment."
THE PARTING 243
**ril look after him, never fear, Eonald," his com-
panion said. " And now come away, man. YeVe seen to
everything ; and the mail-gig will be here in half an
hour."
Eonald was still patting the dogs' heads, and talking to
them — he seemed loth to leave them,
" Come away, man," his companion nrged. " All the
lads are at the inn, and they want to have a parting glass
with you. Your sister and every one is there, and every-
thing is ready."
" Yery well," said he, and he turned away rather moodily.
But when they were descended from the little plateau
into the highway he saw that Meenie Douglas was coming
along the road — and rather quickly ; and for a minute he
hesitated, lest she should have some message for him,
" Oh, Eonald," shel said, and he hardly noticed that her
face was rather pale and anxious, " I wanted to thank you
— I could not let you go away without thanking you — it —
it is so beautiful "
" I should beg your pardon," said he, with his eyes cast
down, " for making use of your short name — — "
" But, Eonald," she said very bravely (though after a
moment's hesitation, as if she had to nerve herself), " when-
ever you think of any of us here, I hope you will think of
me by that name always — and now, good-bye I "
He lifted his eyes to hers for but a second — for but a
second only, and yet, perhaps, with some sudden and un-
foreseen and farewell message on his part, and on hers some
swift and not overglad guessing.
" Good-bye ! "
They shook hands in silence, and then she turned and
went away ; and he rejoined his companion and then they
Avent on together. But Meenie did not re-enter the cottage.
She stole away down to the river, and lingered by the bridge,
listening. For there were faint sounds audible in the still
morning air.
The mail-cart from the north came rattling along, and
crossed the bridge, and went on towards the inn, and again
there was silence, but for these faint sounds. And now she
could make out the thin echoes of the pipes — no doubt
one of the young lads was playing — LocMeVs aivay to
R 2
244 WHITE HE A THER
France^ perhaps, or A Thousand Blessings, for surely no
one, on such an occasion, would think of Macrim.mon''s
Lament —
" Maerimmon shall no more return
Oh ! never, never more return ! "
It would be something joyous they were playing there to
speed him on his way ; and the " drink at the door " — the
Beoch an Dhorvis — would be going the round ; and many
would be the hand-shaking and farewell. And then, by
and by, as she sate there all alone and listening, she heard
a faint sound of cheering — and that was repeated, in a
straggling sort of fashion ; and thereafter there was silence.
The mail-cart had driven away for the south.
Nor even now did she go back to the cottage. She
wandered away through the wild moorland wastes — ^liour
after hour, and aimlessly ; and when, by chance, a shepherd
or crofter came along the road, she left the highway and
went aside among the heather, pretending to seek for wild-
flowers or the like : for sometimes, if not always, there was
that in the beautiful, tender Highland eyes which she would
have no stranger see.
CHAPTER XXV.
SOUTHWAEDS.
As for him, it was a sufficiently joyous departure ; for some
of the lads about were bent on accompanying him on
the mail-car as far as Lairg ; and they took with them John
Macalpine and his weather-worn pipes to cheer them by the
way ; and at Crask they each and all of them had a glass
of whisky ; and on the platform at Lairg railway-station
the clamour of farewell was great. And even when he had
got quit of that noisy crew, and was in the third-class
compartment, and thundering away to the south, his
thoughts and fancies were eager and ardent and glad
enough ; and his brain was busy with pictures ; and these
were altogether of a joyful and hopeful kind. Already he
saw himself on that wide estate — somewhere or other in
the Highlands he fondly trusted ; draining and planting
SOUTHWARDS 245
and enclosing here ; there pruning and thinning and fell-
ing ; manufactui'ing charcoal and tar ; planning temporary
roads and bridges ; stacking bark and faggots ; or discussing
with the head-keeper as to the desirability or non-desirability
of reintroducing capercailzie. And if the young American
lady and her father should chance to come that way, would
he not have pleasm'e and pride in showing them over the
place ? — nay, his thoughts went farther afield, and he saw
before him Chicago, with its masts and its mighty lake, and
himself not without a friendly grip of welcome on getting
there. As for Meenie, where would she be in those coming
and golden and as yet distant days ? Far away from him,
no doubt ; and what else could he expect ?— for now he saw
her among the fine folk assembled at the shooting-lodge in
Glengask— and charming all of them Avith her sweet and
serious beauty and her gentle ways — and again he pictured
her seated on the white deck of Sir Alexander's yacht, a
soft south wind filling the sails, and the happy gray-blue
Highland eyes looking forward contentedly enough to the
yellow line of the Orosay shore. That was to be her future
— fair and shining ; for always he had associated Meenie
with beautiful things — roses, the clear tints of the dawn,
the singing of a lark in the blue ; and who could doubt that
her life would continue so, through these bright and freshly-
coming years ?
Yes, it was a glad enough departure for him ; for he
was busy and eager, and only anxious to set to work at once.
But by and by, when the first novelty and excitement of the
travelling was beginning to wear off, he suddenly discovered
that the little Maggie, seated in the corner there, was
stealthily crying.
" What, what, lass ? " said he cheerfully. " What is it
now ? "
She did not answer ; and so he had to set to work to
comfort her ; making light of the change ; painting in
glowing colours all that lay before them ; and promising
that she should write to Miss Douglas a complete account
of all her adventures in the great city. He was not very
successful, for the little lass was sorely grieved over the
parting from the few friends she had in the world ; but at
least it was an occupation ; and perhaps in convincing her
246 WHITE HEATHER
he was likewise convincing himself that all was for the best,
and proving that people should be well content to leave
the monotony and dulness of a Highland village for the wide
opportunities of Glasgow.
But even he, with all his eager hopes and ambitions, was
chilled to the heart when at last they drew near to the giant
town. They had spent the night in Inverness, for he had
some business to transact there on behalf of Lord Ailine ;
and now it was afternoon — an afternoon dull and dismal,
with an east wind blowing that .-made even the outlying-
landscape they had come through dreary and hopeless.
Then, as they got nearer to the city, such suggestions of
the country as still remained grew more and more grim ;
there were patches of sour-looking grass surrounded by
damp stone walls ; gaunt buildings soot-begrimed and
gloomy ; and an ever-increasing blue-gray mist pierced
by tall chimneys that were almost spectral in the dulled
light. He had been to Glasgow before, but chiefly on one
or two swift errands connected with guns and game and
fishing-rods ; and he did not remember having found it so
very melancholy-looking a place as this was. He was rather
silent as he got ready for leaving the train.
He found his brother Andrew awaiting them ; and he
had engaged a cab, for a slight drizzle had begun. More-
over, he said he hald secured for Ronald a lodging right
opposite the station ; and thither the younger brother forth-
with transferred his things ; then he came down the
hollow-resounding stone stair again, and got into the cab,
and set out for the Eeverend Andrew's house, which was on
the soutli side of the city.
And what a fierce and roaring J\Iaelstrom was this into
which they now were plunged ! The dusky crowds of
people, the melancholy masses of dark-hued buildings, the
grimy flagstones, all seemed more or less phantasmal
through the gray veil of mist and smoke ; but always there
arose the harsh and strident rattle of the tram-cars and the
waggons and carts — a confused, commingled, unending
din that seemed to fill the brain somehow and bewilder
one. It appeared a terrible place this, with its cold gray
streets and hazy skies, and its drizzle of rain ; when, in
course of time, they crossed a wide bridge, and caught a
SOUTHWARDS 247
glimpse of the river and the masts and funnels of some
ships and steamers, these were all ghost-like in the thin,
nbiquitons fog. Ronald did not talk much, for the unceas-
ing turmoil perplexed and confused him ; and so the stout,
phlegmatic minister, whose bilious-hued face and gray eyes
were far from being unkindly in their expression, addressed
hunself mostly to the little Maggie, and said that Eosina
and Alexandra and Esther and their brother James were
all highly pleased that she was coming to stay with them,
and also assured her that Glasgow did not always look so
dull and miserable as it did then.
At length they stopped in front of a house in a long,
unlovely, neutral-tinted street ; and presently two rather
weedy-looking girls, who turned otit to be Eosina and
Alexandra, were at the door, ready to receive the new-
comers. Of course it was Maggie who claimed their fii'st
attention; and she was carried off to her own quarters to
remove the stains of travel (and of tears) from her face ; as
for Eonald, he was ushered at once into the parlour, where
his sister-in-law — a tall, thin Avomau, with a lachrymose
face, but with sufficiently watchful eyes — greeted him in a
melancholy way, and sighed, and introduced him to the
company. That consisted of a Mr. M'Lachlan — a large,
pompons-looking person, with a gray face and short-
cropped white hair, whose cool stare of observation and
lofty smile of patronage instantly made Eonald say to him-
self, " My good friend, we shall have to put you into your
proper place ; " Mrs. M'Lachlan, an insiguificant woman,
dowdily dressed ; and finally, Mr. "Weems, a little, old,
withered man, with a timid and appealing look coming
from under bushy black eyebrows — though the rest of his
hair was gray. This Mr. Weems, as Eonald knew, was in
a kind of fashion to become his coach. The poor old man
had been half-killed in a railway accident ; had thus been
driven from active duty ; and now, with a shattered con-
stitution and a nervous system all gone to bits, managed
to live somehow on the interest of the compensation-sum
awarded him by the railway-company. He did not look
much of a hardy forester ; but if his knowledge of land and
timber measuring and surveying, and of book-keeping and
accounts, was such as to enable him to give this stalwart
248 WHITE HE A THER
pupil a few practical lessons, so far well ; and even the
moderate recompense would doubtless be a welcome addition
to his income.
And now this high occasion was to be celebrated by a
" meat-tea," for the Reverend Andrew was no stingy person,
though his wife had sighed and sighed again over the
bringing into the house of a new mouth to feed. Maggie
came downstairs, accompanied by the other members of
the family ; Mr. M'Lachlan was invited to sit at his
hostess's right hand ; the others of them took their seats
in due course ; and the minister pronounced a long and
formal blessing, which was not without a reference or two
to the special circumstances of their being thus brought
together. And if the good man spoke apparently under
the assumption that the Deity had a particular interest in
this tea-meeting in Abbotsford Place, it was assuredly
without a thought of irreverence ; to himself the occasion
was one of importance ; and the way of his life led him
to have continual — and even familiar — communion with
the unseen Powers.
But it was not Ronald's affairs that were to be the
staple of conversation at this somewhat melancholy ban-
quet. It very soon appeared that Mr. M'Lachlan was an
elder — and a ruling elder, unmistakably — of Andrew
Strang's church, and Tie had come prepared with a notable
proposal for wiping off the debt of the same.
"Ah'm not wan thiit'll gang back from his word," he
said, in his pompous and raucous voice, and he leaned
back in his chair, and crossed his hands over his capacious
black satin w^aistcoat, and gazed loftily on his audience.
"Wan hundred pounds — there it is, as sure as if it was in
my pocket this meenit — and there it'll be when ye get fower
ither members o' the congregation to pit doon their fifty
pounds apiece. Not but that there's several in the church
abler than me to pit doon as much ; but ye ken how it is,
Mr. Strang, the man makes the money and the woman
spends it ; and there's mair than one family we ken o'
that should come forrit on an occasion like this, but that
the money rins through the fingers o' a feckless wife.
What think ye, noo, o' Mrs. Nicol setting up her powny-
sarriage, and it's no nine years since Geordie had to make
SOUTHWARDS 249
a composition ? And they tell me that Mrs. Paton's lasses,
when they gang doon the watter — and not for one month
in the year will they let that house 0' theirs at Dunoon —
they tell me that the pairties and dances they have is jist
extraordinar' and the wastry beyond a' things. Ay, it's
them that save and scrimp and deny themselves that's
expected to do everything in a case like this — notwith-
standing it's a public debt — mind, it's a public debt, bind-
ing on the whole congregation ; but what ah say ah'll
stand to — there's wan hundred pounds ready, when there's
fower ithers wi' fifty pounds apiece — that's three hundred
pounds — and wi' such an example before them, surely the
rest 0' the members will make up the remaining two hundred
and fifty — surely, surely."
" It's lending to the Lord," said the minister's wife sadly
as she passed the marmalade to the children.
The conversation now took the form of a discussion as
to which of the members might reasonably be expected to
come forward at such a juncture ; and as Ronald had no
part or interest in this matter he made bold to turn to Mr.
Weems, who sate beside him, and engage him in talk on
their own account. Indeed, he had rather taken a liking
for this timorous little man, and wished to know more
about him and his belongings and occupations ; and when
Mr. Weems revealed to him the great trouble of his life— the
existence of a shrill-voiced chanticleer in the backyard of the
cottage adjoining his own, out somewhere in the Pollokshaws
direction — Ronald was glad to come to his help at once.
" Oh, that's all right," said he. " I'll shoot him for
you."
But this calm proposal was like to drive the poor little
man daft with terror. His nervous system suffered cruelly
from the skirling of the abominable fowl ; but even that
was to be dreaded less than a summons and a prosecution
and a deadly feud with his neighbour, who was a drunken,
quarrelsome, cantankerous shoemaker,
" But, God bless me," Ronald said, " it's not to be thought
of that any human being should be tortured like that by a
brute beast. Well, there's another way 0' settling the hash
0' that screeching thing. You just go and buy a pea-shooter
—or if one of the laddies will lend you a tin-whistle, that
250 WHITE HEATHER
will do ; tlieu go and buy twopence-worth of antibilious
pills — indeed, I suppose any kind would serve ; and then
fire half a dozen over into the back-yard ; my Avord, when
the bantam gentleman has picked up these bonny looking
peas, and swallowed them, he'll no be for flapping his wings
and crowing, I'm thinking ; he'll rather be for singing the
tune of ' Annie Laurie.' But maybe you're not a good
shot with a pea-shooter ? Well, I'll come over and do it for
you early some morning, when the beast's hungry."
But it was difficult for any one to talk, even in the
most subdued and modest way, with that harsh and strident
voice laying down the law at the head of the table. And
now the large-waistcoated elder was on the subject of the
temperance movement ; arraigning the government for not
suppressing the liquor-traffic altogether ; denouncing the
callous selfishness of those who were inclined to tem-
porise with the devil, and laying at their door all the misery
caused by the drunkenness of their fellow-creatnres ; and
proudly putting in evidence his own position in the city of
Glasgow — his authority in the church — the regard paid to
his advice — and the solid, substantial slice of the Avorld's
gear that he possessed — as entirely due to the fact that he
had never, not even as a young man, imbibed one drop
of alcohol. jSTow Eonald Strang was ordinarily a most
abstemious person — and no credit to him, nor to any one
in the like case ; for his firm physique and his way of living
hitherto had equally rendered him independent of any such
artificial aid (though a glass of whisky on a wet day on the
hillside did not come amiss to him, and his hard head
could steer him safely through a fair amount of jollification
when those wild lads came down from Tongue). But he
was irritated by that loud and raucous voice ; he resented
the man's arrogance and his domineering over the placid
and phlegmatic Andrew, who scarcely opened his mouth ;
and here and there he began to put in a sharp saying or
two that betokened discontent and also a coming storm.
" They used to say that cleanliness was next to godliness ;
but nowadays ye would put total abstinence half a mile
ahead of it," he would say, or something of the kind ; and
in due course these two were engaged in a battle-royal of
discussion. It shall not be put down here ; for who was
SOUTHWARDS 251
ever convinced — in morals, or art, or literature, or anything
else — by an argument ? it needs only be said that the
elder, being rather hard pressed, took refuge in Scriptural
authority. But alas ! this was not of much avail ; for the
whole family of the East Lothian farmer (not merely the
student one of them) had been brought up with exceeding
care, and taught to give chapter and verse for everything ;
so that when Mr. M'Lachlan sought to crush his antagonist
with the bludgeon of ((notation he found it was only a
battledore he had got hold of.
" ' Wine is a mocker ; strong drink is raging ; and who-
soever is deceived thereby is not wise,' " he would say
severely.
" ' Wine which cheereth God and man,' " the other would
retort. " ' Wine that makcth glad the heart of man.'
What make ye of these ? "
" ' AVho hath woe ? who hath sorrow ? who hath bab-
bling ? — they that tarry long at the wine ; they that go to
seek mixed wine.' What better authority can we have ? "
" Ay, man, the wise king said that ; but it wasna his last
word. ' Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish,
and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts. Let him
drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no
more.' "
" The devil quoting Scripture for his own ends," the
Eeverend Andrew interposed, with a mild facetiousness.
" It's a dreadful thing to hear in a minister's house,"
said the minister's wife, appealing to her neighbour, Mrs.
M'Lachlan.
" What is ? A verse from the Proverbs of Solomon ? "
Eonald said, turning to her quite good-naturedly.
But instantly he saw that she was distressed, and even
more lachrymose than ever ; and he knew that nothing-
would convince her that he was not a child of wrath and of
the devil ; and he reproached himself for having entered
into any discussion of any kind whatever in this house,
where Maggie was to live — he hoped in perfect accord and
amity. As for himself, he wished only to be out of it. He
was not in his right element. The vulgar complacency of
the rich elder irritated him ; the melancholy unreason of
his sister-in-law depressed him. He foresaw that not here
252 WHITE HEATHER
was any abiding-place for him while he sojourned in the
great city.
But how was he to get away ? They lingered and
dawdled over their tea-drinking in a most astonishing
fashion ; his brother being the most intemperate of all of
them, and obviously accounting thereby for his pallid and
bilious cheeks. Moreover, they had returned to that fruit-
ful topic of talk — the capability of this or the other member
of the congregation to subscribe to the fund for paying off
the debt on the church ; and as this involved a discussion
of everybody's ways and means, and of his expenditure, and
the manner of living of himself, his wife, his sons, and
daughters and servants, the very air seemed thick with
trivial and envious tittle-tattle, the women-folk, of course,
being more loquacious than any.
" Lord help us," said Eonald to himself, as he sate there
in silence, " this house would be a perfect jDaradise for an
Income-tax Commissioner."
However, the fourth or fifth tea-pot was exhausted at
last ; the minister offered up a prolonged thanksgiving ;
and Eonald thought that now he might get away — and out
into the freer air. But that was not to be as yet. His
brother observed that it was getting late ; that all the
members of the household were gathered together ; and
they might appropriately have family worship now. So
the two servant-girls were summoned in to clear the table,
and that done, they remained ; the minister brought the
family Bible over from the sideboard ; and all sate still and
attentive, their books in their hand, while he sought out
the chapter he wanted. It was the Eighth of the Epistle
to the Itomans ; and he read it slowly and elaborately, but
without any word of comment' or expounding. Then he
said that they would sing to the praise of the Lord the
ZCIII. Psalm — himself leading off Avith the fine old tune
of Martyrdom ; and this the young people sang very well
indeed, though they were a little interfered with by the
uncertain treble of the married women and the bovine
baritone of the elder. Thereafter the minister offered up a
prayer, in which very pointed reference was made to the
brother and sister who had come from the far mountains to
dwell within the gates of the city ; and then all of them
SOUTHWARDS 253
rose, and the maidservants withdrew, and those remaining
who had to go began to get ready for their departure.
" Come over and see us soon again," the minister said to
him, as they followed him into the lobby ; but the minister's
wife did not repeat that friendly invitation.
"Ronald," the little Maggie whispered — and her lips
were rather tremulous, " if you hear from Meenie, will you
let me know ? "
" But I am not likely to hear from her, lass," said he,
with his hand upon her shoulder. " You must write to her
yourself, and she will answer, and send ye the news."
" Mind ye pass the public-houses on the way gaun hame,"
said the elder, by way of finishing up the evening with a
joke : Ronald took no notice, but bade the others good-bye,
and opened the door and went out.
When he got into the street his first startled impression
was that the world was on fire — all the heavens, but es-
pecially the southern heavens, were one blaze of soft and
smoky blood-red, into which the roofs and chimney-stacks
of the dusky buildings rose solemn and dark. A pulsating
crimson it was, now dying away slightly, again gleaming up
with a sudden fervour ; and always it looked the more
strange and bewildering because of the heavy gloom of the
buildings and the ineffectual lemon-yellow points of the gas-
lamps. Of course he remembered instantly what this must
be — the glow of the ironworks over there in the south;
and presently he had turned his back on that sullen radiance,
and was making away for the north side of the city.
But when he emerged from the comparative quiet of the
southern thoroughfares into the glare and roar of Jamaica
Street and Argyll Street, all around him there seemed even
more of bewiderment than in the daytime. The unceasing
din of tramway-cars and vans and carts still filled the air ;
but now there was everywhere a fierce yellow blaze of gas-
light— glowing in the great stocked windows, streaming out
across the crowded pavements, and shining on the huge
gilded letters and sprawling advertisements of the shops.
Then the people — a continuous surge, as of a river ; the
men begrimed for the most part, here and there two or
three drunk and bawling, the women Avith cleaner faces,
but most of them bareheaded, with Highland shawls wrapped
254 WHITE HEATHER
round their shoulders. The suffused crimson glow of the
skies was scarcely visible now ; this horizontal blaze of
gas-light killed it ; and through the yellow glare passed the
dusky phantasmagoria of a city's life — the cars and horses,
the grimy crowds. Buchanan Street, it is true, was less
noisy ; and he walked quickly, glad to get out of that
terrible din ; and by and by, when he got away up to Port
Dnndas Eoad, where his lodging was, he found the world
grown quite quiet again, and gloomy and dark, save for the
solitary gas-lamps and the faint dull crimson glow sent
across from the southern skies.
He went up the stone stair, was admitted to the house,
and shown into the apartment that his brother had secured
for him. It had formerly been used as a sitting-room, with
a bedroom attached ; but now these were separated, and a
bed was placed at one end of the little parlour, which was
plainly and not untidily furnished. When his landlady left
he proceeded to unpack his things, getting out first his
books, which he placed on the mantel-shelf to be ready for
use in the morning ; then he made some further disposition
of his belongings ; and then — then somehow he fell away
from this industrious mood, and became more and more
absent, and at last went idly to the window, and stood
looking out there. There was not much to be seen — a few
lights about the Caledonian Eailway Station, some dusky
sheds, and that faint red glow in the sky.
But — Inver-Mudal ? Well, if only he had reflected,
Inver-]\Iudal must at this moment have been just about as
dark as was this railway station and the neighbourhood
surrounding it — unless, indeed, it happened to be a clear star-
lit night away up there in the north, with the heavens shining
beautiful and benignant over Clebrig, and the loch, and the
little hamlet among the trees. However, that was not the
Inver-Mudal he was thinking of ; it was the Inver-Mudal
of a clear spring day, with sweet winds blowing across the
moors, and the sunlight'yellow on Clebrig's slopes, and Loch
Naver's waters all a rippling and dazzling blue. And Mr.
Murray standing at the door of the inn, and smoking his
pipe, and joking with any one that passed ; the saucy Nelly
casting glances among the lads ; Harry with dark suspicions
of rats wherever he could find a hole in the wall of the
GRAY DAYS 255
barn ; Maggie, under instruction of Duncan the ploughman,
driving the two horses hauling a harrow over the rough red
land ; everywhere the birds singing ; the young corn show-
ing green ; and then — just as the chance might be — Meenie
coming along the road, her golden-brown hair blown by the
wind, her eyes about as blue as Loch Naver's shining waters,
and herself calling, with laughter and scolding, to Maggie
to desist from that tomboy work. And where was it all
gone now ? He seemed to have shut his eyes upon that
beautiful clear, joyous world ; and to have plunged into a
hideous and ghastly dream. The roar and yellow glare —
the black houses — the lurid crimson in the sky — the terrible
loneliness and silence of this very room — well, he could not
quite understand it yet. But perhaps it would not always
seem so bewildering ; perhaps one might grow accustomed
in time ? — and teach one's self to forget ? And then again
he had resolved that he would not read over any more the
verses he had written in the olden days about Meenie, and
the hills and the streams and the straths that knew her and
loved her — for these idle rhymes made him dream dreams ;
that is to say, he had almost resolved — he had very nearly
resolved — that he would not read over any more the verses
he had written about Meenie.
CHAPTER XXVI.
GRAY DAYS.
But, after all, that first plunge into city-life had had some-
thing of the excitement of novelty ; it was the settling
down thereafter to the dull monotonous round of labour, in
this lonely lodging, with the melancholy gray world of mist
surrounding him and shutting him in, that was to test the
strength of his resolve. The first day was not so bad ; for
now and again he would relieve the slow tedium of the
hours by doing a little carpentering about the room ; and
the sharp sound of hammer and nail served to break in
upon that hushed, slumberous murmur of the great city
without that seemed a mournful, distant, oppressive thing.
But the next day of this solitary life (for it was not until
the end of the week he was to see Mr. Weems) was dread-
256 WHITE HEATHER
ful. The dull, silent gray hours would not go by. Wrestling
with Ewart's Agricultural Assistant, or Balfour's Elements
of Botany, or with distressing problems in land-surveying
or timber-measuring, he would think the time had passed ;
and then, going to the window for a moment's relief to eye
and brain, he would see by the clock of the railway station
that barely half an hour had elapsed since last he had looked
at the obdurate hands. How he envied the porters, the
cab-drivers, the men Avho were loading and unloading the
waggons ; they seemed all so busy and contented ; they
were getting through with their work ; they had something
to show for their labour ; they had companions to talk to
and joke with ; sometimes he thought he could hear them
laughing. And ah, how much more he envied the traveller
who drove up and got leisurely out of the cab, and had
his luggage carried into the station, himself following and
disappearing from view ! Whither was he going, then,
away from this great, melancholy city, with its slow hours,
and wan skies, and dull, continuous, stupefying murmur ?
Whither, indeed ! — away by the silver links of Forth,
perhaps, with the castled rock of Stirling rising into the
windy blue and white ; away by the wooded banks of Allan
Water and the bonnie Braes of Donne ; by Strathyre, and
Grlenogle, and Glenorchy ; and past the towering peaks of
Ben Cruachan, and out to the far-glancing waters of the
Avestern seas. Indeed it is a sore pity that Miss Carry
Ilodson, in a fit of temper, had crushed together and thrust
into the bottom of the boat the newspaper containing an
estimate of Eonald's little Highland poem ; if only she had
handed it on to him, he would have learned that the senti-
ment of nostalgia is too slender and fallacious a thing for
any sensible person to bother his head about ; and, instead
of wasting his time in gazing at the front of a railway
station, he would have gone resolutely back to Strachan's
Agricultural Tables and the measuring and mapping of
surface areas.
On the third day he grew desperate.
" In God's name let us see if there's not a bit of blue
sky anywhere ! " he said to himself ; and he flung his books
aside, and put on his Glengarry cap, and took a stick in his
hand, and went out.
GI^AV DAYS 257
Alas ! that there were 110 light pattering steps following
him down the stone stair ; the faithful Harry had had to be
left behind, under charge of Mr. Murray of the inn. And
indeed Ronald found it so strange to be going out without
some companion of the kind that when he passed into the
wide, dull thoroughfare, he looked up and down everywhere
to see if he could not find some homeless w^andering cur
that he could induce to go with him. But there was no
sign of dog-life visible ; for the matter of that there was
little sign of any other kind of life ; there was nothing
before him but the wide, empty, duU-hued street, apparently
terminating in a great wilderness of india-rubber Avorks and
oil-works and the like, all of them busily engaged in pouring
volumes of smoke through tall chimneys into the already
sufficiently murky sky.
But when he got farther north, he found that there were
lanes and alleys permeating this mass of public works ; and
eventually he reached a canal, and crossed that, deeming
that if he kept straight on he must reach the open country
somewhere. As yet he could make out no distance ; blocks
of melancholy soot-begrimed houses, timber-yards, and
blank stone walls shut in the view on every hand ; more-
over there was a brisk north wind blowing that was sharply
pungent with chemical fumes and also gritty with dust ; so
that he pushed on quickly, anxious to get some clean air
into his lungs, and anxious, if that were possible, to get a
glimpse of green fields and blue skies. For, of course, he
could not always be at his books ; and this, as he judged,
must be the nearest way out into the country ; and he could
not do better than gain some knowledge of his surroundings,
and perchance discover some more or less secluded sylvan
retreat, where, in idle time, he might pess an hour or so
with his pencil and his verses and his memories of the
moors and hiUs.
But the farther out he got the more desolate and de-
solating became the scene around him. Here was neither
town nor country ; or rather, both were there ; and both
were dead. He came upon a bit of hawthorn-edge ; the
stems Avere coal-black, the leaves begrimed out of all
semblance to natural foliage. There were long straight
roads, sometimes fronted by a stone wall and sometimes
S
258 WHITE HEATHER
by a block of liuildings — dwelling-houses, apparently, but
of the most squalid and dingy description ; the windows
opaque with dirt ; the '* closes " foul ; the pavements in front
unspeakable. But the most curious thing was the lifeless
aspect of this dreary neighbourhood. Where were the
people ? Here or there two or three ragged children would
be playing in the gutter ; or perhaps, in a dismal little shop
an old woman might be seen, with some half-withered
apples and potatoes on the counter. But where were the
people who at one time or other must have inhabited these
great, gaunt, gloomy tenements ; He came to a dreadful
place called Saracen Cross — a very picture of desolation and
misery ; the tall blue-black buildings showing hardly any
sign of life in their upper flats ; the shops below being for
the most part tenantless, the windows rudely boarded over.
It seemed as if some blight had fallen over the land, first
obliterating the fields, and then laying its withering hand
on the houses that had been built on them. And yet these
melancholy-looking buildings were not wholly uninhabited ;
here or there a face was visible — but always of women or
children ; and perhaps the men-folk were away at work
somewhere in a factory. Anyhow, under this dull gray sky,
with a dull gray mist in the air, and with a strange silence
everywhere around, the place seemed a City of the Dead ;
he could not understand how human beings could live in it
at all.
At last, however, he came to some open spaces that still
bove some half-decipherable marks of the country, and his
spirits rose a little. He even tried to sing " 0 say, will
you marry me, Nelly Munro ? " — to force himself into a
kind of liveliness, as it were, and to prove to himself that
things were not quite so bad after all. But the words
stuck in his throat. His voice sounded strangely in this
silent and sickly solitude. And at last he stood stock still,
to have a look round about him, and to make out what
kind of a place this was that he had entered into.
Well, it was a very strange kind of place. It seemed to
have been forgotten by somebody, when all the other land
near was being ploughed through by railway-lines and
heaped up into embankments. Undoubtedly there were
traces of the country still remaining — and even of agricul-
GRA Y DA YS 259
ture ; here and there a line of trees, stunted and nipped by
the poisonous ah' ; a stragghng hedge or two, withered and
black ; a patch of corn, of a pallid and hopeless colour ;
and a meadow with cattle feeding in it. But the road that
led through these bucolic solitudes was quite new and made
of cinders ; in the distance it seemed to lose itself in a
network of railway embankments ; while the background of
this strange simulacrum of a landscape — so far as that
could be seen through the pall of mist and smoke — seemed
to consist of further houses, ironworks, and tall chimney-
stacks. Anything more depressing and disconsolate he had
never witnessed ; nay, he had had no idea that any such
God-forsaken neighbourhood existed anywhere in the world ;
and he thought he would much rather be back at his books
than wandering through this dead and spectral land. More-
over it was beginning to rain — a thin, pertinacious drizzle
that seemed to hang in the thick and clammy air ; and so
he struck away to the right, in the direction of some houses,
guessing that there he would find some way of getting back
to the city other than that ghastly one he had come by.
By the time he had reached these houses — a suburb or
village this seemed to be that led in a straggling fashion up
to the crest of a small hill — it was raining heavily. Now
ordinarily a gamekeeper in the Highlands is not only
indifferent to rain, but apparently incapable of perceiving
the existence of it. When was wet weather at Inver-Mudal
ever known to interfere with the pursuits or occupations of
anybody ? Why, the lads there would as soon have thought
of taking shelter from the rain as a terrier would. But it
is one thing to be walking over wet heather in knicker-
bocker-stockings and shoes, the water quite clean, and the
exercise keeping legs and feet warm enough, and it is
entirely another thing to be walking through mud made of
black cinders, with clammy trousers flapping coldly round
one's ankles. Nay, so miserable was all this business that
he took refuge in an entry leading into one of those " lands "
of houses ; and there he stood, in the cold stone passage,
with a chill wind blowing through it, looking out on the
swimming pavements, and the black and muddy road, and
the dull stone walls, and the mournful skies.
At length, the rain moderating somewhat, he issued out
S 2
26o WHITE HE A THER
from his shelter, and set forth for the town. A tramway-
car passed him, but he had no mind to be jammed in
amongst a lot of elderly women, all damp and with dripping
umbrellas. Nay, he was trying to convince himself that the
very discomfort of this dreary march homeward — through
mud and drizzle and fog — was a wholesome thing. After
that glimpse of the kind of country that lay outside the
town — in this direction at least — there would be less tempta-
tion for him to throw down his books and go off for idle
strolls. He assured himself that he ought to be glad that
he found no verdant meadows and purling brooks ; that,
on the contrary, the aspect of this suburban territory was
sufficiently appalling to drive him back to his lodgings.
All the same, when he did arrive there, he was somewhat
disheartened and depressed ; and he went up the stone
staircase slowly ; and when he entered that solitary, dull
little room, and sate down, he felt limp and damp and tired
— tired, after a few miles' walk ! And then he took to his
books again, with his mouth set hard.
Late that night he was sitting as usual alone, and rather
absently turning over his papers ; and already it had come
to this that now, when he chanced to read any of these
writings of his of former days, they seemed to have been
written by some one else. Who was this man, then, that
seemed to go through the world with a laugh and a song,
as it were ; rating this one, praising that ; having it all his
own way ; and with never a thought of the morrow .'' But
there was one piece in particular that struck home. It was
a description of the little terrier ; he had pencilled it on the
back of an envelope one warm summer day Avhen he was
lying at full length on the heather, with Harry not half a
dozen yards off, his nose between his paws. Harry did not
know that his picture was being taken.
Aiild^ gray, and grizzled] yellow een;
A nose as brown's a berry;
A icit as sharp as ony preen —
That's my wee chieftain Harry.
Lord sahes! — the courage of the man!
The biggest lam-yard ratten.
He'll snip him by the neql(, o'er-han'.
As he the deil had gatten.
GRA V DA YS 261
And ivhen Ms master's work on hand.
There's none maun come anear him;
The biggest Duke in all Scotland,
My Harry's teeth ivould fear him.
But ordinar' ivise like fowl or freen.
He's harmless as a kitten;
As soon he'd think 0' worryin'
A hennie when she's sittin'
But Harry, lad, ye're groicin auld ;
Your days are gettin feiver ;
And maybe Heaven has made a faull
For such wee things as you are.
And u-hat strange kintra will that be ?
And icill they fill your coggies ?
And whatna strange folk there icill ses
There's ivater for the doggies ?
Ae thing I braivly ken; it's this —
Ye may hae work or play there; ■
But if your master once ye miss,
I'm bound ye ivinna stay there.
It was the last verse that struck home. It was through no
f aihire of devotion on the part of the faithful Harry that he
was now at Inver-Mudal ; it was his Master that had played
him false, and severed the old companionship. And he
kept thinking about the little terrier ; and wondering
whether he missed his master as much as his master missed
him ; and wondering whether Meenie had ever a word for
him as she went by — for she and Harry had always been
great friends. Nay, perhaps Meenie might not take it ill if
Maggie wrote to her for news of the little dog ; and then
Meenie would answer ; and might not her letter take a
wider scope, and say something about the people there, and
about herself ? Surely she would do that ; and some fine
morning the answer — in Meenie's handwriting— would be
delivered in Abbotsford Place ; and he knew that Maggie
would not be long in apprising him of the same. Perhaps,
indeed, he might himself become possessed of that precious
missive ; and bring it away with him ; and from time to
time have a glance at this or that sentence of it — in
Meenie's own actual handwriting^when the long dull work
of the day was over, and his fancy free to fly away to the
262 WHITE HE A THER
north again, to Strath-Terry and Clebrig and Loch-Naver,
and the neat small cottage with the red blinds in the win-
dows. It seemed to him a long time now since he had left
all of these ; he felt as though Glasgow had engulfed him :
while the day of his rescue — the day of the fulfilment of
his ambitious designs — was now growing more and more
distant and vague and uncertain, leaving him only the slow
drudgery of these weary hours. But Meenie's letter would
be a kind of talisman ; to see her handwriting would be
like hearing her speak ; and surely this dull little lodging
was quiet enough, so that in the hushed silence of the
eveniug, he, reading those cheerful phrases, might persuade
himself that it was Meenie's voice he was listening to, with
the quiet, clear, soft laugh that so well he remembered.
And so these first days went by ; and he hoped in time to
get more accustomed to this melancholy life ; and doggedly
he stuck to the task he had set before him. As for the out-
come of it all — well, that did not seem quite so facile nor so
fine a thing as it had appeared before he came away from
the north ; but he left that for the future to decide ; and in
the meantime he was above all anxious not to perplex him-
self by the dreaming of idle dreams. He had come to
Glasgow to work ; not to build impossible castles in
the air.
CHAPTER XXVII.
KATE.
And yet it was a desperately hard ordeal ; for this man was
by nature essentially joyous, and sociable ; and fitted to be
the king of all good company ; and the whole of his life
had been spent in the open, iu brisk and active exercise :
and sunlight and fresh air were to him as the very breath
of his nostrils. But here he was, day after day, week after
week, chained to these dismal tasks ; in solitude : with the
far white dream of ambition becoming more and more
distant and obscured ; and with a terrible consciousness
ever growing upon him that in coming away from even the
mere neighbourhood of Meenie, from the briefest com-
panionship with her, he had sacrificed the one beautiful
KA TE 263
thing, the 0)ie precious possession, that his life had ever
held for him or would hold. What though the impalpable
barrier of Glengask and Orosay rose between him and her ?
He was no sentimental Claude Melnotte ; he had common
sense ; he accepted facts. Of course Meenie would go
away in due time. Of course she was destined for higher
things. Bat what then ? What of the meanwhile ? Could
anything happen to him quite so wonderful, or worth the
striving for, as Meenie's smile to him as she met him in the
road ? What for the time being made the skies full of
brightness, and made the pulses of the blood flow gladly,
and the day become charged with a kind of buoyancy of
life ? And as for these vague ambitions for the sake of
which he had bartered away his freedom and sold himself
into slavery — towards what did they tend ? For whom ?
The excited atmosphere the Americans had brought with
them had departed now : alas ! this other atmosphere into
which he had plunged was dull and sad enough, in all
conscience ; and the leaden days weighed down upon him ;
and the slow and solitary hours would not go by.
One evening he was coming in to the town by way of the
Pollokshaws road ; he had spent the afternoon hard at work
with Mr. Weems, and was making home again to the silent
little lodging in the north. He had now been a month and
more in Glasgow ; and had formed no kind of society or
companionship whatever. Once or twice he had looked
in at his brother's ; but that was chiefly to see how the
little Maggie was going on ; his sister-in-law gave him no
over-friendly welcome ; and, indeed, the social atmosphere
of the Reverend Andrew's house was far from being con-
genial to him. As for the letter of introduction that
Meenie had given him to her married sister, of course he
had not had the presumption to deliver that ; he had
accepted the letter, and thanked Meenie for it — for it was
but another act of her always thoughtful kindness ; but Mrs.
Gemmill was the wife of a partner in a large warehouse ;
and they lived in Queen's Crescent ; and altogether Ronald
had no thought of calling on them — although to be sure
he had heard that Mrs. Gemmill had been making suffi-
ciently minute and even curious inquiries with regard to
him of a member of his brother's congregation whom
264 WHITE HEATHER
she happened to know, No ; he lived his life alone ;
wrestling with the weariness of it as best he might ; and
not quite knoAving, perhaps, how deeply it Avas eating into
his heart.
Well, he was walking absently home on this dull gray
evening, watching the lamp-lighter adding point after point
to the long string of golden stars, when there went by a
smartly appointed dog-cart. He did not particularly remark
the occupants of the vehicle, though he knew they were two
women, and that one of them was driving ; his glance fell
rather on the well-groomed cob, and he thought the
varnished oak dog-cart looked neat and business-like.
The next second it was pulled up ; there was a pause,
during which time he was of course drawing nearer ; and
then a woman's voice called to him — •
" Bless me, is that you, Ronald ? "
He looked up in amazement. And who was this, then,
who had turned her head round and was now regarding
him with her laughing, handsome, bold black eyes .^ She
was a woman apparently of five-and-thirty or so, but ex-
ceedingly well preserved and comely ; of pleasant features
and fresh complexion ; and of rather a manly build and
carriage — an appearance that was not lessened by her
wearing a narrow-brimmed little billycock hat. And then,
even in this gathering dusk, he recognised her ; and im-
consciously he repeated her own words —
" Bless me, is that you, Mrs. — Mrs. — Menzies — " for in
truth he had almost forgotten her name.
" Mrs. This or Mrs. That ! " the other cried. " I thought
my name was Kate — it used to be anyway. Well, I declare !
Come, give us a shake of your hand — auntie, this is my
cousin Eonald ! — and who would hae thought of meeting
you in Glasgow, now ! "
" I have been here a month and more," Eonald said,
taking the proffered hand.
" And never to look near me once — there's friendliness !
Eh, and what a man you've grown to — ye were just a bit
laddie when I saw ye last — but aye after the lasses, though
— oh aye — bless me, what changes there hae been since
then ! "
" Well, Katie, it's not you that have changed much any-
KA TE 26s
way," said he, for he was making out again the old familiar
girlish expression in the firmer features of the mature
woman.
" And what's brought ye to Glasgow ? " said she — but
then she corrected herself : " No, no ; I'll have no long
story wi' you standing on the pavement like that. Jump
up behind, Konald, lad, and come home wi' us, and we'll
have a crack thegither "
"Katie, dear," said her companion, who was a little,
white-face, cringing and fawning old woman, " let me get
down and get up behind. Your cousin must sit beside
ye "
But already Ronald had swung himself on to the after-
seat of the vehicle ; and Mrs. Menzies had touched the
cob with her whip ; and soon they were rattling away into
the town.
" I suppose ye heard that my man was dead .? " said she
presently, and partly turning round.
" I think I did," he answered rather vaguely.
" He was a good man to me, like Auld Robin Gray," said
this strapping widow, who certainly had a very matter-of-fact
way in talking about her deceased husband. " But he was
never the best of managers, poor man. I've been doing
better ever since. We've a better business, and not a
penny of mortgage left on the tavern."
" Weel ye may say that, Katie," whined the old woman.
" There never was such a manager as you — never. Ay, and
the splendid furniture — it was never thought o' in his time
— bless 'm ! A good man he was, and a kind man ; but no
the manager you are, Katie ; there's no such another tavern
in a' Glesca."
Now although the cousinship with Ronald claimed by
Mrs. Menzies did not exist in actual fact, — there was some
kind of remote relationship, however, — still, it must be
confessed that it was very ungrateful and inconstant of him
to have let the fate and fortunes of the pretty Kate Burnside
(as she w^as in former days) so entirely vanish from his mind
and memory. Kate Burnside was the daughter of a small
farmer in the Lammermuir district ; and the Strangs and
Burnsides were neighbours as well as remotely related by
blood. But that was not the only reason why Ronald
266 WHITE HE A THER
ought to have remembered a little more about the stalwart,
black-eyed, fresh-cheeked country wench who, though she
was some seven or eight years or more his senior, he had
badly chosen for his sweetheart in his juvenile days. Nay,
had she not been the first inspirer of his muse ; and had he
not sung this ox-eyed goddess in many a laboured verse,
carefully constructed after the manner of Tannahill or
Motherwell or Allan Cunningham ? The "lass of Lammer
Law " he called her in these artless strains ; and Kate was
far from resenting this frank devotion ; nay, she even
treasured up the verses in which her radiant beauties were
enumerated ; for why should not a comely East Lothian
wench take pleasure in being told that her cheeks outshone
the rose, and that the *' darts o' her bonnie black een " had
slain their thousands, and that her faithful lover would come
to see her, ay, though the Himalayas barred his way ! But
then, alas ! — as happens in the world — the faithful lover was
sent off into far neighbourhoods to learn the art and
mystery of training pointers and setters ; and Kate's father
died, and the family dispersed from the farm ; Kate went
into service in Glasgow, and there she managed to capture
the affections of an obese and elderly publican whom — -she
being a prudent and sensible kind of a creature — she forth-
with married ; by and by, through partaking too freely of his
own wares, he considerately died, leaving her in sole posses-
sion of the tavern (he had called it a public-house, but she
soon changed all that, and the place too, when she was
established as its mistress) ; and now she was a handsome,
buxom, firm-nerved woman, who could and did look well
after her own affairs ; who had a flourishing business, a
comfortable bank account, and a sufficiency of friends of her
own way of thinking ; and whose raven-black hair did not
as yet show a single streak of gray. It was all this latter
part of Kate Burnside's — or rather, Mrs. Menzies's — career
of which Eonald was so shamefully ignorant ; but she
speedily gave him enough information about herself as they
drove through the gas-lit streets, for she was a voluble,
high-spirited woman, who could make herself heard when
she chose.
" Ay," said she, at length, " and where have ye left the
goodwife, Ronald ? " .
KA TE 267
" What goodwife ? " said he.
" Ye dinna tell me that you're no married yet ? "
" Not that I know of," said lie.
" AVhat have ye been about, man ? Ye were aye daft
about the lasses ; and ye no married yet ? What have ye
been about man, to let them a' escape ye ? "
" Some folk have other things to think of," said he
evasively.
" Dinna tell me," she retorted. " I ken weel what's
uppermost in the mind 0' a handsome lad like you. Weel,
if ye're no married, ye're the next door to it, I'll be bound.
What's she like ? "
" I'll tell ye when I find her," said he drily.
" Ye're a dark one ; but I'll find ye out, my man."
She could not continue the conversation, for they were
about to cross the bridge over the Clyde, and the con-
gested traffic made her careful. And then again Jamaica
Street was crowded and difiicult to steer through ; but
presently she left that for a quieter thoroughfare leading
off to the right ; and in a few moments she had pulled
up in front of a large tavern, close by a spacious archway.
" Auntie, gang you and fetch illec to take the cob round,
will ye ? " said she ; and then Ronald, surmising that she
had now reached home, leapt to the ground, and went to
the horse's head. Presently the groom appeared, and Kate
Menzies descended from her chariot.
Now in Glasgow, for an establishment of this kind to
be popular, it must have a side entrance — the more the
merrier, indeed — by which people can get into the tavern
without being seen ; but besides this it soon appeared that
Mrs. Menzies had a private right of way of her own. She
bade Ronald follow her ; she went through the archway ;
produced a key and opened a door ; and then, passing
along a short lobby, he found himself in what might be
regarded as the back parlour of the public-house, but was
in reahty a private room reserved by Mrs. Menzies for
herself and her intimate friends. And a very briUiant little
apartment it Avas ; handsomely furnished and shining with
stained wood, plate glass, and velvet ; the gas-jets all aglow
in the clear globes ; the table in the middle laid with a
white cloth for supper, all sparkling with crystal and
268 WHITE HE A THER
polished electro-plate. Moreover (for business is business)
this luxurious little den commanded at will complete views
of the front premises ; and there was also a door leading
thither ; but the door was shut, and the red blinds were
drawn over the two windows, so that the room looked quite
like one in a private dwelling.
" And now, my good woman," said Mrs. Mcnzies, as she
threw her hat and cloak and dog-skin gloves into a corner,
" just you mak' them hurry up wi' supper ; for we're just
home in time ; and we'll want another place at the table.
And tell Jeannie there's a great friend o' mine come in, if
she can get anything special — Lord's sake, Eonald, if I had
kent I was going to fall in with you I would have looked
after it mysel'."
" Ye need not bother about me," said he, " for supper
is not much in my way — not since I came to the town.
Without the country air, I think one would as lief not sit
down to a table at all."
" Oh, I can cure ye o' that complaint," she said con-
fidently ; and she rang the bell.
Instantly the door was opened, and he caught a glimpse
of a vast palatial-looking place, with more stained wood
and plate glass and velvet, and with several smartly-dressed
young ladies standing or moving behind the long mahogany
counters ; moreover, one of these— a tall and serious-eyed
maiden — now stood at the partly opened door.
" Gin and bitters, Mary," said Mrs. Menzies briskly —
she was at this moment standing in front of one of the
mirrors, complacently smoothing her hair with her hands,
and setting to rights her mannish little necktie.
The serious-eyed handmaiden presently reappeared, bring-
ing a small salver, on which was a glass filled with some
kind of a fluid, which she presented to him.
" AYhat's this ? " said he, appealing to his hostess.
" Drink it and find out," said she ; " it'll make ye jump
wi' hunger, as the Hielanmau said."
He did as he was bid ; and loudly she laughed at the wry
face that he made.
" What's the matter ? "
" It's a devil of a kind of thing, that," said he ; for it was
a first experience.
ICA TB 269
" Ay, but wait till ye find bow biingry it will make yc,"
she answered; and then she returned from the mirror. " And
I'm sure ye'll no mind my hair being a wee thing camstrairy,
Ronald ; there's no need for ceremony between auld freens,
as the saying is "
" But, look here, Katie, my lass," said he — for perhaps
he was a little emboldened by that fiery fluid, " I'm thinking
that maybe I'm making myself just a little too much at
home. Now, some other time, when ye've no company, I'll
come in and see ye "
But she cut him short at once, and with some pride.
" Indeed, I'll tell ye this, that the day that Ronald Strang
comes into my house — and into my own house too — that's
no the day that he's gaun out o't without eating and drinking.
Ma certes, no ! And as for company, why there's none but
auld mother Paterson — I ca' her auntie ; but she's no more
my auntie than you are — ye see, my man, Ronald, a poor
unprotected helpless widow woman maun look after appear-
ances— for the world's unco given to leein', as Shakespeare
says. There, Ronald, that's another thing," she added
suddenly — " ye'll take me to the theatre ! — my word, avc'11
have a box ! "
But these gay visions were interrupted by the reappear-
ance of Mrs. Paterson, who was followed by a maidservant
bearing a dish on which was a large sole, smoking hot.
Indeed, it soon became apparent that this was to be a very
elal)orate banquet, such as Ronald was not at all familiar
Avith ; and all the care and flattering attention his hostess
could pay him she paid him, laughing and joking with him,
and insisting on his having the very best of everything, and
eager to hand things to him — even if she rather ostenta-
tiously displayed her abundant rings in doing so. And
when mother Paterson said —
" What will ye drink, Katie dear .^ Some ale — or some
porter ? "
The other stormily answered^
" Get out, ye daft auld wife ! Ale or porter the first day
that my cousin Ronald comes into my own house ? Cham-
pagne's tlie word, woman ; and the best ! AVhat will ye
have, Ronald — Avhat brand do ye like ? — Moctt and Shan-
dou ? "
270 WHITE HEATHER
Eonald laughed.
" What do I know about such things ? " said he. " And
besides, there's no reason for such extravagance. There's
been no stag killed the day."
' "There's been no stag killed the day," she retorted,
" but Ronald Strang's come into my house, and he'll have
the best that's in it, or my name's no Kate Burnside — or
Kate Menzies, I should say, God forgie me ! Ring the
bell, auntie."
This time the grave-eyed barmaid appeared.
" A bottle of j\Ioett and Shandon, Mary."
" A pint bottle, m'm ? "
" A pint bottle — ye stupid idiot ? " she said (but quite
good-naturedly). " A quart bottle, of^ course ! "
And then when the bottle was brought and the glasses
filled, she said —
" Here's your health, Ronald ; and right glad am I to
see you looking so weel — ye were aye a bonnie laddie, and
ye've kept the promise o't — ay, indeed, the whole o' you
iStrangs were a handsome family — except your brother
Andrew, maybe "
" Do ye ever see Andrew ? " Ronald said ; for a modest
man does not like to have his looks discussed, even in the
most flattering way.
Then loudly laughed Kate Menzies.
" Me ? Me gang and see the Reverend Andrew Strang ?
No fears ! He's no one o' my kind. He'd drive me out
o' the house wi' bell, book, and candle. I hae my ain
friends, thank ye — and I'm going to number you amongst
them so long as ye stop in this town. Auntie, pass the
bottle to Ronald ! "
And so the banquet proceeded — a roast fowl and bacon,
an apple-tart, cheese and biscuits and what not following in
due succession ; and all the time she was learning more and
more of the life that Ronald had led since he had left the
Lothians, and freely she gave him of her confidences in
return. On one point she Avas curiously inquisitive, and
that was as to whether he had not been in some entangle-
ment with one or other of the Highland lasses up there in
Sutherlandshire ; and there was a considerable amount of
joking on that subject, which Ronald bore good-naturedly
KATE 271
enough ; finding it on the whole the easier way to let her
surmises have free course.
" But ye're a dark one ! " she said at length. " And ye
would hae me believe that a strapping fellow like you hasna
had the lasses rinnin' after him ? I'm no sae daft."
" I'll tell ye what it is, Katie," he retorted, " the lasses in
the Highlands have their work to look after ; they dinna
live a' in clover, like the Glasgow dames."
" Dinna tell me — dinna tell me," she said.
And now, as supper was over and the table cleared, she
went to a small mahogany cabinet and opened it.
" I keep some cigars here for my particular friends," said
Mrs. Menzies, " but I'm sure I dinna ken which is the best.
Gome and pick for yourself, Ronald lad ; if you're no
certain the best plan is to take the biggest."
" This is surely living on the fat of the land, Katie," lie
protested.
" And what for no ? " said she boldly. " Let them enjoy
themselves that's earned the right to it."
"But that's not me," he said.
"Well, it's me," she answered. "And when my cousin
Eonald comes into my house, it's the best that's in it that's
at his service — and no great wonder either ! "
Well, her hospitality was certainly a little stormy ; but
the handsome widow meant kindly and well ; and it is
scarcely to be marvelled at if — under the soothing influences
of the fragrant tobacco — he was rather inclined to substitute
for this brisk and business-like Kate Menzies of these present
days the gentler figure of the Kate Burnside of earlier years,
more especially as she had taken to talking of those times,
and of all the escapades the young lads and lasses used to
enjoy on Hallowe'en night or during the first-footing at
Hogmanay.
" And now I mind me, Ronald," she said, " ye used to be
a fine singer when ye were a lad. Do ye keep it up still ? "
" I sometimes try," he answered. " But there's no been
much occasion since I came to this town. It's a lonely
kind o' place, for a' the number 0' folk in it."
"Well, now ye're among friends, give us something ! "
" Oh, that I will, if ye like," said he readily ; audhe laid
aside his cigar.
2/2 WHITE HEATHER
And then he sang — moderating his voice somewhat, so
that he should not be heard in the front premises — a verse
or two of an old favourite —
" The sun rase sae rosy, the gray hills adorning.
Light sprung the laverock, and mounted sae high,"
and if his voice was quiet, still the clear penetrating quality
of it was there ; and when he had finished Kate Menzies
said to him — after a second of irresolution —
" Ye couldna sing like that when yo were a lad, Ronald.
It's maist like to gar a body greet."
But he would not sing any more that night ; he guessed
that she must have her business affairs to attend to ; and
he was resolved upon going, in spite of all her importunacy.
However, as a condition, she got him to promise to come
and see her on the following evening. It was Saturday
night ; several of her friends were in the habit of dropping
in on that night ; finally, she pressed her entreaty so that
he could not well refuse ; and, having promised, he left.
And no doubt as he went home through the great, noisy,
lonely city, he felt warmed and cheered by this measure of
human companionship that had befallen him. As for Kate
Menzies, it Avould have been a poor return for her excessive
kindness if he had stopped to ask himself whether her robust
camaraderie did not annoy him a little. He had had plenty
of opportunities of becoming acquainted with the manners
and speech and ways of refined and educated women ; indeed,
there are few gamekeepers in the Highlands who have not
at one time or another enjoyed that privilege. Noble and
gracious ladies who, in the south, would as soon think of
talking to a doormat as of entering into any kind of general
conversation with their butler or coachman, will fall quite
naturally into the habit— when they are living away in the
seclusion of a Highland glen with the shooting-party at the
lodge — of stopping to have a chat with Duncan or Hector
the gamekeeper when they chance to meet him coming along
the road with his dogs ; and, what is more, they find him
worth the talking to. Then, again, had not Eonald been
an almost daily spectator of Miss Douglas's sweet and win-
ning manners — and that continued through years ; and had
not the young ximerican lady, during the briefer period she
A SOCIAL EVENING 273
was in the north, made quite a companion of him in her
frank and brave fashion ? He had almost to confess to
himself that there was just a little too much of Mrs, Men-
zies's tempestuous good nature ; and then again he refused
to confess anything of the kind ; and quarrelled with himself
for being so ungrateful. Why, the first bit of real, heart-
felt friendliness that had been shown him since he came to
this great city ; and he was to examine it ; and be doubtful ;
and wish that the keeper of a tavern should be a little more
refined !
" Eonald lad," he was saying to himself when he reached
his lodging in the dusky Port Dundas Road, " it's over-fed
stomachs that wax proud. You'll be better-minded if you
keep to your books and plainer living."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A SOCIAL EVENING.
Looking forward to this further festivity he worked hard
at his studies all day, and it was not until nearly nine
o'clock in the evening that he went away down through the
roaring streets to keep his engagement with Kate Menzies.
And very snug and comfortable indeed did the little parlour
look, with its clear glass globes and warmly-cushioned seats
and brilliant mirrors and polished wood. Kate herself
(who was quite resplendent in purple velvet and silver
necklace and bangles) was reading a sporting newspaper ;
old mother Paterson was sewing ; there were cigar-boxes on
the table.
" And what d'ye mean," cried the handsome widow gaily,
when he made his appearance, " by coming at this hour ?
Did not I tell ye we would expect ye to supper ? "
"Would ye have me eat you out o' house and home,
woman ? " he said. " Besides, I had some work to get
through."
" Well, sit down and make yerself happy ; better late
than never ; there's the cigars "
" I would as lief smoke a pipe, Katie, if ye don't object —
only that I'm shamed to smoke in a fine place like this "
" What is't for, man ? Do ye think I got it up for an
T
274 WHITE HEATHER
exhibition — to be put in a glass case ! And what'll ye
drink now, Eonald — some Moett and Shandon ? "
" Indeed no," said he. "If I may light my pipe I want
nothing else."
" But I canna bear an empty table," said she. " Here,
auntie, get your flounces and falderals out o' the road —
bless us, woman, ye make the place look like a milliner's
shop ! And bring out the punch-bowl frae the chiffonier —
I want ye to see it, Ronald, for it was gien to my gudeman
by an auld freend o' his in Ayr, that got it from the last of
the lairds o' Garthlie. And if ane or twa o' them happen
to come in to-night we'll try a brew — for there's naething so
wholesome, after a', as the wine o' the country, and I can gie
ye some o' the real stuff. Will ye no try a drop the noo ? "
" No thank ye, no thank ye," said he, for he had lit his
pipe, and was well content.
"Well, well, we'll have one o' the lasses in to set the
tumblers and the glasses, for I canna thole to see a bare
table ; and in the meantime, Eonald, you and me can hae
a crack be oursels, and ye can tell me what ye mean to do
when ye get your certificate "
" If I get it, ye mean, lass."
" No fears," she said confidently ; " ye were aye one o'
the clever ones ; I'll warrant ye there's na skim-milk in
your head where the brains should be. But I want to ken
what ye're ettling at after you've got the certificate, and
what's your plans, and the like ; for I've been thinking
about it ; and if there was any kind o' a starting needed —
the loan of a bit something in the way of a nest Qgg, ye
see — weel, I ken a place where ye might get that, and ye
wouldna have to whistle long at the yett either."
Now there was no mistaking the generosity of this offer,
however darkly it might be veiled by Kate Menzie's figura-
tive manner of speech ; and it was with none the less grati-
tude that he answered her and explained that a head-forester
traded with the capital of his employer, though, to be sure,
he might on entering a new situation have to find sureties
for him.
" Is it caution-money ye mean, Eonald ? " she said
frankly.
" Well, if a man had no one to speak for him — no one
A SOCIAL EVENING 275
whose word they would take," he said to her (though all
this was guess-work on his part), " they might ask him for
security. There would be no payment of money, of course,
unless he robbed his employer ; and then the sureties would
have to make that good as far as they had undertaken.
But it's a long way off yet, Katie, and hardly worth speaking
about. I daresay Lord Ailine would say a word for me."
" And is that a' ? " she said, with a laugh. " Is that a'
the money's wanted for^to guarantee the honesty 0' one
0' the Strangs 0' Whittermains ? Weel, I'm no a rich
woman, Ronald — for my money's maistly sunk in the tavern
— and doing weel enough there too — but if it's a surety ye
want, for three hunder pounds, ay, or five hunder pounds,
just you come to me, and the deil's in't if we canna manage
it somehow."
" I thank ye for the offer anyway ; I'm sure you mean
it," said he.
" That lawyer 0' mine," she continued, " is a dour chiel ;
he'll no let me do this ; and he's grumbling at that ; and a
poor widov\r woman is supposed to hae nae soul 0' her ain,
I'm sure the fuss that he makes about that cob, and only
fifty-five guineas, and come o' the best Clydesdale stock "
" But it was no the expense, it was no the expense, Katie
dear," whined the old woman, " it was the risk to your life
frae sae high-mettled a beast. Just think o't, at your time
0' life, wi' a grand business, and yoursel' the manager o' it,
and wi' sae mony freends, think what it would be if ye
broke your neck "
" Broke your grandmother's fiddlestrings ! " said she.
" The beast's as quiet's a lamb. But that auld man, Peter
Gunn. I suppose he's a good lawyer — indeed, every one
says that — but he's as pernickety as an auld woman ; and
he'd mak' ye think the world was made 0' silk paper, and
ye daurna stir a step for fear o' fa'in through. But you
just give me the word, Ronald, when the security's wanted ;
and we'll see if auld Peter can hinder me frae doing what I
ought to do for one o' my own kith and kin."
They were thus talking when there came a knock at the
outer door : then there was a clamour of voices in the little
lobby ; and presently there were ushered into the room
three visitors, who were forthwith introduced to Ronald,
T 2
276 WHITE HEATHER
with a few words of facetious playfulness from the widow.
There was first a Mr. Jaap, a little old man with Jewish
features, bald on the top of his head, but with long, flowing
gray hair behind ; a mild-looking old man, but with merry
eyes nevertheless — and indeed all of them seemed to have
been joking as they came in. Then there was a Mr. Laid-
law, a younger man, of middle height, and of a horsey type ;
stupid-looking, rather, but not ill-natured. The third was
Captain M'Taggart, a large heavy man, with a vast, radiant,
Bardolphian face, whose small, shrewd, twinkling blue eyes
had the expression rather of a Clyde skipper given to rough
jesting and steady rum-drinking (and he was all that) than
of the high-souled, child-hearted sailor of romance.
" Sit ye down, sit ye down," their hostess said gaily.
" Here, captain, is a job for ye : here's the punch-bowl that
we only have on great days, ye ken ; and your brew is
famous — whether wi' old Jamaica or Long John. Set to
work now — here's the sugar and the lemons ready for ye — •
for ye maun a' drink the health o' my cousin here that's
come frae Sutherland."
"Frae Sutherland, say ye, Mistress?" the big skipper
said, as he reached over for the lemons. " Ye should ca'
him your kissin frae the Hielands then. Do ye ken that
story, Laidlaw ? D'ye ken that yin about the Hieland
kissins, Jaap ? Man, that's a gude yin ! have ye no heard
it ? Have ye no heard it, Mistress ? "
" Tell us what it is first, and we'll tell you afterwards,"
said she saucily.
" Weel, then," said he — and he desisted from his prepara-
tions for the punch-making, for he was famous along the
Broom ielaw as a story-teller, and liked to keep up his
reputation, " it was twa young lasses, twa cousins they were,
frae the west side o' Skye — and if there's ony place mair
Hielan than that, it's no me that ever heard o't — and they
were ta'en into service in an inn up about the Gairloch or
Loch Inver, or one o' they lochs. Both o' them were good-
looking lasses, mind ye ; but one o' them just unusual
handsome. Well, then, there happened to come to the
inn an English tourist — a most respectable old gentleman
he was ; and it was one o' they two lasses — and no the
brawest o' them either — that had to wait on him : but he
A SOCIAL EVENING 277
was a freeudly auld man ; and on the mornin' 0' his gaim
awa he had to ring for something or other, and when she
brought it to him, he said to her, jist by way 0' compli-
ment, ye ken, ' You are a very good-looking girl, do you
know. Flora ? ' And of com'se the lass was very well
pleased ; but she was a modest lassie too ; and she said,
' Oh no, sir ; but I hef heard them say my kissin was
peautif ul ! ' ' Your what ? ' said he. ' My kissin, sir — '
' Get away, you bold hussy ! Off with you at once, or I'll
ring for your master — you brazen baggage ! ' — and to this
very day, they tell me, the poor lass doesna ken what on
earth it was that made the auld man into a madman ; for
what harm had she done in telling him that her cousin was
better-looking than herself ? "
This recondite joke was received with much laughter by
the company ; and even Eonald had to admit that the Clyde
skipper's imitation of the Highland accent was very fairly
well done. But joke-making is dull work with empty
glasses ; and so Captain M'Taggart set himself seriously to
the business of brewing that bowl of punch, while Kate
Menzies polished the silver ladle to an even higher extreme
of brilliancy.
Now these three old cronies of the widow's had betrayed
a little surprise on finding a stranger installed in their
favourite howf ; and perhaps they might have been inclined
to resent the intrusion had not Kate Menzies very speedily
intimated her views upon the subject in unmistakable
language. Her " cousin Eonald " was all her cry ; it was
Eonald this and Eonald that ; and whatever Eonald said,
that was enough, and decisive. For, of course, after a glass
or so of punch, the newcomers had got to talking politics —
or what they took to be politics ; and Eonald, when he was
invited to express his opinion, proved to be on the un-
popular side ; nor did he improve his position by talking
with open scorn of a great public agitation then going on —
indeed, he so far forgot himself as to define stump-oratory
as only another form of foot-and-mouth disease. But at
least he had one strenuous backer, and neither Mr. Laidlaw
nor Mr, Jaap nor the big skipper was anxious to quarrel
with a controversialist who had such abundant stores of
hospitality at her command. Moreover, Kate Menzies was
278 WHITE HEATHER
in the habit of speaking her mind ; was it not better, for
the sake of peace and quietness, to yield a little ? This
cousin of hers from the Highlands could parade some book-
learning it is true ; and he had plenty of cut-and-dried
theories that sounded plausible enough ; and his apparent
knowledge of the working of American institutions was
sufficiently good for an argument — so long as one could
not get at the real facts ; but they knew, of course, that,
with time to get at these facts and to furnish forth replies
to his specious reasonings, they could easily prove their own
case. In the meantime they would be magnanimous. For
the sake of good fellowship — and to oblige a lady — they
shifted the subject.
Or rather she did.
"I suppose you'll be going to the Harmony Club to-
night ? " she said.
" For a while, at least," replied the captain. " Mr. Jaap's
new song is to be sung the nicht ; and we maun get him
an encore for't. Not that it needs us ; ' Caledonia's hills
and dales ' will be a' ower Glasgow before a fortnight's out ;
and it's young Tam Dalswinton that's to sing it. Tam'll
do his best, no fear."
" It's little ye think," observed Mrs. Menzies, with a kind
of superior air, " that there's somebody not a hundred miles
frae here that can sing better than a' your members and a'
your professionals put thegither. The Harmony Club !
If the Harmony Club heard hm, they might tak tent and
learn a lesson."
" Ay, and wha's he when he's at hame. Mistress ? "
Captain M'Taggart said.
" He's not fifty miles away frae here anyway," she said.
" And if I was to tell ye that he's sitting not three yards
away frae ye at this meenit ? "
" Katie, woman, are ye daft ? " Ronald said, and he
laughed, but his forehead grew red all the same.
" No, I'm no," she answered confidently. " I ken what
I'm saying as weel as most folk. Oh, I've heard some o'
the best o' them — no at the Harmony Club, for they're too
high and mighty to let women bodies in — but at the City
Hall concerts and in the theatres ; and I've got a good
enough ear, too ; I ken what's what ; and I ken if my
A SOCIAL EVENING 279
cousin Ronald were to stand up at the Saturday Evening
Concerts, and sing the song he sung in this very room last
night, I tell ye he would take the shine out o' some 0'
them ! "
" He micht gie us a screed now," Mr. Laidlaw suggested
— his somewhat lack-lustre eyes going from his hostess to
Ronald.
" Faith, no ! " Ronald said, laughing, " there's been ower
great a flourish beforehand. The fact is, Mrs. Menzies
here "
" I thought I tolled ye my name was Kate ? " she said
sharply.
" Kate, Cat, or Kitten, then, as ye like, woman, what I
mean to say is that ower long a grace makes the porridge
cold. Some other time — some other time, lass."
"Ay, and look here, Mr. Jaap," continued the widow,
who was determined that her cousin's superior qualifications
should not be hidden, "ye are aye complaining that ye
canna get anything but trash to set your tunes to. "Well,
here's my cousin ; I dinna ken if he still keeps at the trade,
but as a laddie he could just write ye anything ye liked right
aff the reel, and as good as Burns, or better. There's your
chance now. Everybody says your music's jist splendid —
and the choruses taken up in a meenit — but you just ask
Ronald there to gie ye something worth while making a
song 0'."
Now not only did the old man express his curiosity to
see some of Ronald's work in this way, and also the gratifi-
cation it would give him to set one of his songs to music,
but Ronald was likewise well pleased with the proposal.
His own efforts in adapting tunes to his verses he knew
were very amateurish ; and would it not be a new sensa-
tion—a little pride commingled with the satisfaction perhaps
— to have one of his songs presented with an original air
all to itself, and perhaps put to the test of being sung before
some more or less skilled audience ? He knew he had
dozens to choose from ; some of them patriotic ; others con-
vivial, others humorous in a kind of way : from any of these
the musician was welcome to select as' he liked. The love
songs about Meenie were a class apart.
And now that they had got away from the thrashed-out
28o WHITE HE A THER
straw of politics to more congenial themes, tliese three
cm'ionsly assorted boon-companions proved to be extremely
pleasant and good-natured fellows ; and when, at length,
they said it was time for them to be off to the musical club,
they cordially invited Ronald to accompany them. He "was
nothing loth, for he was curious to see the place ; and if
Mrs. Menzies grumbled a little at being left alone she con-
soled herself by hinting that her jjro%e could teach them
a lesson if he chose to do so.
" AVhen ye've listened for a while to their squalling,
Ronald, my man, jist you get up and show them how an
East Lothian lad can do the trick."
" What's that, Mistress ? I thought ye said your cousin
was frae the Hielans," the skipper broke in.
" Frae the Hielans ? Frae East Lothian, I tell ye ;
where I come frae mysel' ; and where ye'll find the brawest
lads and lasses in the breadth o' Scotland," she added
saucily.
" And they dinna stay a' at hame either," remarked the
big skipper, with much gallantry, as the visitors prepared
to leave.
They went away through the noisy, crowded, glaring
streets, and at length entered a spacious dark courtyard, at
the head of which was a small and narrow entrance. The
skipper led the way-; but as they passed up the staircase
they became aware of a noise of music overhead ; and when
they reached the landing, they had to pause there, so as not
to interrupt the proceedings within. It was abundantly
clear what these were. A man's voice was singing " Green
grow the rashes, 0 " to a smart and lively accompaniment
on the piano ; while at the end of each verse, joined in a
sufficiently enthusiastic chorus :
" Green grow the rashes, 0,
Green grow the rashes, 0,
The siveeteit hours that e\r I speiit,
Were spent among the lassvs, 0."
and that was repeated :
" Green grow the rashes, 0,
Green grow the rashes, 0,
The sweetest hours that e'er I spent.
Were spent among the lasses, 0."
A SOCIAL EVENING 281
Then there was silence. The skipper now opened the
door ; and, as they entered, Eonald found himself near the
head of a long and loftdy-ceilinged apartment, the atmo-
sphere of which was of a pale blue cast, through the presence
of much tobacco smoke. All down this long room were
t\.-in rows of small tables, at which little groups of friends
or acquaintances sate — repectable looking men they seemed,
many of them young fellows, more of them of middle age,
and nearly all of them furnished with drinks and pipes or
cigars. At the head of the room was a platform, not raised
more than a foot from the floor, with a piano at one end of
it ; and in front of the platform was a special semicircular
tal3le, presided over by a bland rubicund gentleman, to whom
Eonald was forthwith introduced. Indeed, the newcomers
were fortunate enough to find seats at this semicircular
table ; and when beverages were called for and pipes lit,
they waited for the further continuance of the proceedings.
These were of an entirely simple and ingenuous character,
and had no taint whatsoever of the ghastly make-believe of
wit, the mean swagger, and facetious innuendo of the
London music hall. Xow a member of the Club, when
loudly called upon by the general voice, would step up to
the platform and sing some familiar Scotch ballad ; and
again one of the professional singers in attendance (they
did not appear in swallow-tail and white tie, by the way,
but in soberer attire) would " oblige " with something more
ambitious ; but throughout there was a paevailing tendency
towards compositions with a chorus ; and the chorus grew
■^ore universal and more enthusiastic as the evening pro-
ceeded. Then occasionally between the performances there
occurred a considerable interval, during which the members
of the Club would make brief visits to the other tables ; and
in this way Eonald made the acquaintance of a good number
of those moderately convivial souls. For, if there was a
tolerable amount of treating and its corresponding chal-
lenges, there was no drunkenness apparent anywhere ; there
was some loud talking ; and Captain M'Taggart was unduly
anxious that everybody should come and sit at the Presi-
dent's table ; but the greatest hilarity did not exceed bounds.
It was to be observed, however, that, as the evening drew
on, it was the extremely sentimental songs that were the
282 WHITE HEATHER
chief favourites — those that mourned the bygone days of
boyhood and youth, or told of the premature decease of
some beloved Annie or Mary.
Ronald was once or twice pressed to sing ; but he good-
naturedly refused.
" Some other time, if I may have the chance, I will try
to screw up my courage," he said. " And by that time ye'll
have forgotten what Mrs. Menzies said : the East Lothian
folk are wonderful for praising their own kith and kin."
As to letting old Mr. Jaap have a song or two to set to
music, that was another and simpler matter ; and he pro-
mised to hunt out one or two of them. In truth, it would
not be difficult, as he himself perceived, to find something
a little better than the " Caledonia's hills and dales " which
was sung that night, and which was of a very familiar pattern
indeed. And Eonald looked forward with not a little
natural satisfaction to the possibility of one of his songs
being sung in that resounding hall ; a poet must have his
audience somewhere ; and this, at least, was more extensive
than a handful of farm lads and lasses collected together in
the barn at Inver-Mudal.
At about half-past eleven the entire company broke up
and dispersed ; and Ronald, after thanking his three com-
panions very heartily for their hospitality during the evening,
set off for his lodgings in the north of the city. He was
quite enlivened and inspirited by this unusual whirl of
gaiety ; it had come into his sombre and lonely life as a
startling surprise. The rattle of the piano — the resounding
choruses — the eager talk of these boon-companions — all this
was of an exciting nature ; and as he walked away through
the now darkened thoroughfares, he began to wonder
whether he could not wTite some lilting verses in the old
haphazard Avay. He had not even tried such a thing since
he came to Glasgow ; the measurement of surface areas and
the classification of Dicotyledons did not lead him in that
direction. But on such a gala-night as this, surely he might
string some lines together — about Glasgow lads and lasses,
and good-fellowship, and the delights of a roaring town ?
It would be an experiment, in any case.
"Well, when he had got home and lit the gas, and sate
down to the jingling task, it was not so difficult, after all.
INDUCEMENTS 283
But there was an undernote running through these verses
that he had not contemplated when he set out. When the
first glow of getting them together was over, he looked
down the page, and then he put it away ; in no circum-
stances could this kind of song find its way into the
Harmony Club ; and yet he was not altogether disappointed
that it was so.
0 Glasgow lasses are fair enough
And Glasgoiv lads are merry ;
But I would he loith my own dear maid,
A-ivandering down Strath-Terry.
And she ivould he singing her morning song,
The song that the larhs have taught lier ;
A song of the northern seas and hills,
And a song of Mudal-Water.
The hands go thundering through the streets.
The fifes and drums together ;
Far rather I'd hear the grouse-cock crow
Among the purple heather ;
And I loould he on Ben Clebrig's hrow,
To loatch the red-deer stealing
In single file adown the glen
And past the summer slieilin-g.
0 Glasgow lasses are fair enough.
And Glasgoio lads are merry ;
But ah, for the voice of my own dear maid,
A-singing adown Strath-Terry!
CHAPTER XXIX.
IXDUCEIIENTS.
Ronald's friendship with the hospitable widow and his
acquaintanceship with those three boon-companions of hers
grew apace ; and many a merry evening they all of them
had together in the brilliant little parlour, Ronald singing
his own or any other songs without stint, the big skipper
telling elaborately facetious Highland stories, the widow
bountiful with her cigars and her whisky-toddy. And
yet he was ill, ill at ease. He would not admit to
himself, of course, that he rather despised these new
acquaintances — for were they not most generous and kind
284 WHITE HEATHER
towards him ? — nor yet that the loud hilarity he joined iii
was on his part at times a trifle forced. Indeed, he could
not very well have defined the cause of this disquietude
and restlessness and almost despair that was present to his
consciousness even when the laugh was at its loudest and
the glasses going round most merrily. But the truth was
he had begun to lose heart in his work. The first glow of
determination that had enabled him to withstand the de-
pression of the dull days and the monotonous labour had
subsided now. The brilliant future the Americans had
painted for him did not seem so attractive. Meenie was
away ; perhaps never to be met with more ; and the old
glad days that were filled with the light of her presence
were all gone now and growing ever more and more distant.
And in the solitude of the little room up there in the Port
Dundas Koad — with the gray atmosphere ever present at
the windows, and the dull rumble of the carts and waggons
Avithout — he was now getting into a habit of pushing aside
his books for a while, and letting his fancies go far afield ;
insomuch that his heart seemed to grow more and more
sick within him, and more and more he grew to think that
somehow life had gone all wrong with him.
There is in Glasgow a thoroughfare familiarly known as
Balmanno Brae. It is in one of the poorer neighbourhoods
of the town ; and is in truth rather a squalid and uninter-
esting place ; but it has the one striking peculiarity of being
extraordinarily steep, having been built on the side of a
considerable hill. Now one must have a powerful imagin-
ation to see in this long, abrupt, blue-gray thoroughfare —
with its grimy pavements and house-fronts, and its gutters
running with dirty water — any resemblance to the wide
slopes of Ben Clebrig and the carolling rills that flow down
to Loch ISTaver ; but all the same Ronald had a curious
fancy for mounting this long incline, and that at the hardest
pace he could go. For sometimes, in that little room, he
felt almost like a caged animal dying for a wider air, a
more active work ; and here at least was a height that
enabled him to feel the power of his knees ; while the mere
upward progress was a kind of inspiriting thing, one always
having a vague fancy that one is going to see farther in
getting higher. Alas ! there was but the one inevitable
INDUCEMENTS 285
termination to these repeated climbings ; and tliat not the
wide panorama embracing Loch Lojal and Ben Hope and
the far Kyle of Tongue, but a wretched little lane called
Eotten Eow — a double line of gloomy houses, with here
and there an older-fashioned cottage with a thatched roof,
and with everywhere pervading the close atmosphere an
odour of boiled herrings. And then again, looking back,
there was no yellow and wide-shining Strath-Terry, with its
knolls of purple heather and its devious rippling burns, but
only the great, dark, grim, mysterious city, weltering in its
smoke, and dully groaning, as it were, under the grinding
burden of its monotonous toil.
As the Twelfth of August drew near he became more
and more restless, He had written to Lord Ailine to say
that, if he could be of any use, he would take a run up to
Inver-Mudal for a week or so, just to see things started for
the season ; but Lord Ailine had considerately refused the
olfer, saying that everything seemed going on well enough,
except, indeed, that Lugar the Gordon setter was in a fair
way of being spoilt, for that, owing to Ronald's parting-
injunctions, there was not a man or boy about the place
would subject the dog to any kind of chastisement or
discipline whatever. And it sounded strange to Ronald to
hear that he was still remembered away up there in the
remote little hamlet.
On the morning of the day before the Twelfth his books
did not get much attention. He kept going to the window
to watch the arrivals at the railway station opposite, wonder-
ing whether this one or that was off and away to the wide
moors and the hills. Then, about mid-day, he saw a young
lad bring up four dogs — a brace of setters, a small spaniel,
and a big brown retriever — and give them over in charge
to a porter. Well, human nature could not stand this any
longer. His books were no longer thought of ; on went
his Glengarry cap ; and in a couple of minutes he was
across the road and into the station, where the porter was
hauling the dogs along the platform.
" Here, my man, I'll manage the doggies for ye," he
said, getting hold of the chains and straps ; and of
course the dogs at once recognised in him a natural
ally and were less alarmed. A shambling, bow-legged
286 WHITE HE A THER
porter hauling at them they could not understand at all ;
but in the straight figure and sun-tanned cheek and
clear eye of the newcomer they recognised features
familiar to them ; and then he spoke to them as if he
knew them.
" Ay, and what's your name, then ? — Bruce, or Wallace,
or Soldier ? — but there'll no be much work for you for a
while yet. It's you, you two bonnie lassies, that'll be
amongst the heather the morn ; and well I can see ye'll
work together, and back each other, and just set an example
to human folk. And if ye show yourselves just a wee bit
eager at the beginning o' the day — well, well, well, we all
have our faults, and that one soon wears off. And what's
your names, then ? — Lufra, or Nell, or Bess, or Fan 1 And
you, yoa wise auld chiel — I'm thinking ye could get a grip
o' a mallard that would make him imagine he had got back
into his mother's nest— you're a wise one— the Free Kirk
elder o' the lot " — for, indeed, the rest of them were all
pawing at him, and licking his hands, and whimpering their
friendship. The porter had to point out to him that he,
the porter, could not stand there the whole day with
" a' wheen dogs ; " whereupon Ronald led these new
companions of his along to the dog-box that had been
provided for them, and there, when they had been properly
secured, the porter left him. Ronald could still talk to
them, however, and ask them questions ; and they seemed
to understand well enough ; indeed, he had not spent so
pleasant a half -hour for many and many a day.
There chanced to come along the platform a little, wiry,
elderly man, with a wholesome-looking, weather-tanned face,
who was carrying a bundle of fishing-rods over his shoulder ;
and seeing how Ronald was engaged he spoke to him in
passing and began to talk about the dogs.
" Perhaps they're your dogs 1 " Ronald said.
" No, no, our folk are a' fishing folk," said the little old
man, who was probably a gardener or something of the kind,
and who seemed to take readily to this new acquaintance.
" I've just been in to Glasgow to get a rod mended, and to
bring out a new one that the laird has bought for himself."
He grinned in a curious sarcastic way.
" He's rather a wee man ; and this rod — Lord sakes, ye
INDUCEMENTS 287
never saw such a thing ! it would break the back o' a
Samson — bless ye, the but o't's like a weaver's beam ; and
for our gudeman to buy a thing like that — well, rich folk
hae queer ways 0' spending their money."
He was a friendly old man ; and this joke of his
master having bought so tremendous an engine seemed to
afford him so much enjoyment that when Konald asked
to be allowed to see this formidable weapon he said at
once —
" Just you come along outside there, and we'll put it
thegither, and ye'll see what kind 0' salmon-rod an old man
o' five foot five thinks he can cast wi' "
" If it's no^taking up too much of your time," Eonald
suggested, but eager enough he was to get a salmon-rod
into his fingers again.
" I've three quarters of an hour to wait," was the reply,
" for I canna make out they train books ava."
They went out beyond the platform to an open space,
and very speedily the big rod was put together. It was
indeed an enormous thing ; but a very fine rod, for all that ;
and so beautifully balanced and so beautifully pliant that
Eonald, after having made one or two passes through the
air with it, could not help saying to the old man, and
rather wistfully too
" I suppose ye dinna happen to have a reel about
ye?"
" That I have," was the instant answer, " and a brand
new hundred-yard line on it too. Would ye like to try a
cast ? I'm thinking ye ken something about it."
It was an odd kind of place to try the casting-power of
a salmon-rod, this dismal no-man's-land of empty trucks
and rusted railway -points and black ashes ; but no sooner
had Eonald begun to send out a good line — taking care to
recover it so that it should not fray itself along the gritty
ground — than the old man perceived he had to deal with
no amateur.
" Man, ye're a dab, and no mistake ! As clean a line as
ever I saw cast ! It's no the first time yoiCve handled a
salmon-rod, I'U be bound ! "
" It's the best rod I've ^ever had in my hand," Eonald
said ^'^ ^"^ Vxao-QTI fn rOAl m fViQ lina nrvoin " T'vn i-r>n,^V>
288 WHITE HE A THER
obliged to ye for letting me try a cast — it's many a day no^v
since I threw a line."
They took the rod down and put it in its case.
" I'm much obliged to ye," Eonald repeated (for the
mere handling of this rod had fired his veins with a strange
kind of excitement). " Will ye come and take a dram ? "
" No, thank ye, I'm a teetotaler," said the other ; and
then he glanced at Eonald curiously. "But ye seem to
ken plenty about dogs and about fishing and so on — what
are ye doing in Glasgow and the morn the Twelfth ? Ye
are not a town lad ? "
" No, I'm not ; but I have to live in the town at present,"
was the answer. " Well, good-day to ye ; and many thanks
for the trial o' the rod."
" Good-day, my lad ; I wish I had your years and the
strength o' your shouthers."
In passing Ronald said good-bye again to the handsome
setters and the spaniel and the old retriever ; and then he
went on and out of the station, but it was not to return to
his books. The seeing of so many people going away to the
north, the talking with the dogs, the trial of the big salmon-
rod, had set his brain a little wild. What if he were to go
back and beg of the withered old man to take him with
him — ay, even as the humblest of gillies, to watch, gaff in
hand, by the side of the broad silver-rippling stream, or to
work in a boat on a blue-ruffied loch ! To jump into a
third-class carriage and know that the firm inevitable giip
of the engine was dragging him away into the clearer light,
the wider skies, the glad free air ! No wonder they said
that fisher folk were merry folk ; the very jolting of the
engine would in such a case have a kind of music in it ;
how easily could one make a song that would match with
the swing of the train ! It was in his head now, as he
rapidly and blindly walked away along the Cowcaddens,
and along the New City Eoad, and along the Western
Eoad — random rhymes, random verses, that the jolly
company could sing together as the engine thundered
along —
Out of the station u-e rattle au-ay,
Wi' a clangour of axle and iclieel ;
Tliere^s a merrier sound that ive know in the north —
The merry, merry shrielc of the reel !
INDUCEMENTS 289
0 you, that shouther the heavy iron gun,
And have steep, steep hraes to speel —
We envy you not ; enough is for us
The merry, merry shriek of the reel !
Wlien the twenty-four pounder leaps in the air.
And the line flies out icith a squeal —
0 that is the hlessedest sound upon earth.
The merry, merry shriek of the reel!
So here's to good fellows ! — for them that are not,
Let them gang and sup kail ivi' the deil .'
We've other -work here — so look out, my lads.
For the first, sharp shriek of the reel I
He did not care to put the rough- jolting verses down on
paper, for the farther and the more rapidly he walked away
out of the town the more was his brain busy with pictures
and visions of all that they would be doing at this very
moment at Inver-JMudal.
" God bless me," he said to himself, " I could almost
swear I hear the dogs whimpering in the kennels."
There would be the young lads looking after the panniers
and the ponies ; and the head-keeper up at the lodge dis-
cussing witli Lord Ailine the best way of taking the hill in
the morning, supposing the wind to remain in the same
direction ; and Mr. Murray at the door of the inn, smoking
his pipe as usual ; and the pretty Xelly indoors waiting
upon the shooting party just arrived from the south and
listening to all their wants. And Harry would be wondering,
amid all this new bustle and turmoil, why his master did
not put in an appearance ; perhaps scanning each succeeding
dog-cart or waggonette that came along the road ; and then,
not so blithe-spirited, making his way to the Doctor's house.
Comfort awaited him there, at all events ; for Ronald had
heard that Meenie had taken pity on the little terrier, and
that it Avas a good deal oftener with her than at the inn.
Only all this seemed now so strange ; the great dusk city
lay behind him like a nightmare from which he had but
partially escaped, and that with tightened breath ; and he
seemed to be straining his ears to catch those soft and
friendly voices so far away. And then later on, as the
darkness fell, what would be happening there ? The lads
would be coming along to the inn ; lamps lit, and chairs
U
290 WHITE HE A THER
drawn in to the table ; Mr. Murray looking in at times with
his jokes, and perhaps with a bit of a treat on so great an
occasion. And surely — surely — as they begin to talk of
this year and of last year and of the changes — surely some
one will say — perhaps Nelly, as she brings in the ale — but
surely some one will say — as a mere word of friendly re-
membrance— " Well, I wish Ronald was here now with his
pipes, to play us The Barren Rocks of Aden." Only a
single friendly word of remembrance — it was all that he
craved.
He struck away south through Dowanhill and Partick,
and crossed the Clyde at Govan Ferry ; then he made his
way back to the town and Jamaica Street bridge ; and
finally, it being now dusk, looked in to see whether Mrs.
Menzies was at leisure for the evening.
" What's the matter, Ronald ? " she said instantly, as he
entered, for she noticed that his look was careworn and
strange.
" Well, Katie, lass, I don't quite know what's the
matter wi' me, but I feel as if I just couldna go back to
that room of mine and sit there by myself — at least not
yet ; I think I've been put a bit daft wi' seeing the people
going away for the Twelfth ; and if ye wouldna mind my
sitting here for a while with ye, for the sake o' com-
pany-
" Mind ! " she said. " Mind ! What I do mind is that
you should be ganging to that lodging-house at a', when
there's a room — and a comfortable room, though I say it
that shouldn't — in this very house at your disposal, when-
ever ye like to bring yom* trmik till it. There it is — an
empty room, used by nobody — and who more welcome to
it than my ain cousin ? I'U tell ye what, Ronald, my lad,
ye're wearing yoursel' away on a gowk's errand. Your
certificate ! How do ye ken ye'll get your certificate ?
How do ye ken ye will do such great things with it when
ye get it ? You're a young man ; you'll no be a young
man twice ; what I say is, take your fling when ye can get
it ! Look at Jimmy Laidlaw — he's off the first thing in
the morning to the Mearns — £15 for his share of the
shooting — do you think he can shoot like you ? — and why
should ye no have had your share too ? "
INDUCEMENTS 291
" Well, it was very kind of you, Katie, woman, to make
ihe offer ; but — but — there's a time for everything."
" Man, I could have driven ye out every morning in the
dog-cart ! and welcome. I'm no for having young folk
waste the best years of their life, and find out how little
use the rest o't's to them — no that I consider mysel' one
0' the auld folk yet "
" You, Katie dear ! " whined old mother Paterson from
her millinery corner. " You— just in the prime 0' youth,
one micht say ! you one o' the auld folk ? — ay, in thirty
years' time maybe ! "
" Take my advice, Ronald, my lad," said the widow
boldly. " Dinna slave away for naething — because folk
have put fancy notions into your head. Have a better
opinion 0' yoursel' ! Take your chance 0' life when ye
can get it — books and books, what's the use 0' books ? "
" Too late now — I've made my bed and maun lie on it,"
he said gloomily ; but then he seemed to try to shake off
this depression. " Well, well, lass, Rome was not built in
a day. And if I were to throw aside my books, what
then ? How would that serve ? Think ye that that
would make it any the easier for me to get a three-weeks'
shooting wi' Jimmy Laidlaw ? "
" And indeed ye might have had that in any case, and
welcome," said Kate Menzies, with a toss of her head.
" Who is Jimmy Laidlaw, I wonder ! But it's no use
arguin' wi' ye, Ronald, lad ; he that will to Cupar maun to
Cupar ; only I dinna like to see ye looking just ill."
" Enough said, lass ; I didna come here to torment vc
with my wretched affairs," he answered ; and at this moment
the maidservant entered to lay the cloth for supper, while
Mrs. Menzies withdrew to make herself gorgeous for the
occasion.
He was left with old mother Paterson.
" There's none so blind as them that winna see," she
began, in her whining voice.
" What is't ? "
" Ay, Ay," she continued, in a sort of maundering
soliloquy, " a braw woman like that — and free-handed as
the day — she could have plenty offers if she liked. But
there's none so blind as them that winna see. There's
u 2
292 WHITE HEATHER
Mr. Laidlaw there, a good-looking man, and wan wi' a
good penny at the bank ; and wonldna he just jump at
the chance, if she had a nod or a wink for him ? But
Katie was aye like that — headstrong ; she would aye
have her ain way — and there she is, a single woman, a
braw, handsome, young woman — and weel provided for
— weel provided for — only it's no every one that takes
her fancy. A prize like that, to be had for the asking !
Dear me — but there's nane so blind as them that winna see"
It was not by any means the first time that mother
Paterson had managed to drop a few dark hints — and
much to his embarrassment, moreover, for he could not
pretend to ignore their purport. Nay, there was some-
thing more than that. Kate Menzie's rough-and-ready
friendliness for her cousin had of late become more and
more pronounced — almost obtrusive, indeed. She wanted
to have the mastery of his actions altogether. She W'ould
have him pitch his books aside and come for a drive with
her whether he was in the humour or no. She offered
him the occupancy of a room which, if it was not actually
W'ithin the tavern, communicated with it. She seemed
unable to understand why he should object to her paying
£15 to obtain for him a share in a small bit of conjoint
shooting out at the Mearns. And so forth in many ways.
A\^el], these things, taken by themselves, he might have
attributed to a somewhat tempestuous good-nature ; but
here was this old woman, Avhenever a chance occurred,
whining about the folly of people who did not see that
Katie dear was so handsome and generous and so mar-
vellous a matrimonial prize. Nor could he very well tell
her to mind her own business, for that would be admitting
that he imderstood her hints.
However, on this occasion he had not to listen long ;
for presently Mrs Menzies returned, smiling, good-natured,
radiant in further finery ; and then they all had supper
together ; and she did her best to console her cousin for
being cooped up in the great city on the eve of the
Twelfth. And Eonald was very grateful to her ; and
perhaps, in his eager desire to keep up this flow of high
spirits, and to forget what was happening at Inver-Mudal
and about to happen, he may have drunk a little too
INDUCEMENTS S93
much ; at all events, when Laidlaw and Jaap and the
skipper came in they found him in a very merry mood,
and Kate Menzies equally hilarious and happy. Songs ?
• — he was going to no Harmony Club that night, he
declared — he would sing them as many songs as ever they
liked — but he was not going to forsake his cousin. Nor
were the others the least unwilling to remain where they
were ; for here they were in privacy, and the singing was
better, and the liquor unexceptionable. The blue smoke
rose quietly in the air ; the fumes of Long John warmed
blood and brain ; and then from time to time they heard
of the brave, or beautiful, or heart-broken maidens of
Scotch song — ]\Iaggie Lauder, or Nelly Munro, or Barbara
Allan, as the chance might be — and music and good
fellowship and whisky all combined to throw a romantic
halo round these simple heroines.
" But sing us one o' your own, Ronald, my lad — there's
none better, and that's what I say ! " cried the widow ; and
as she happened to be passing his chair at the time — going
to the sideboard for some more lemons, she slapped him on
the shoulder by way of encouragement.
" One o' my own ? " said he. " But which — which —
lass ? Oh, well, here's one."
He lay back in his chair, and quite at haphazard, and
carelessly and jovially began to sing — in that clearly pene-
trating voice that neither tobacco smoke nor whisky seemed
to affect —
'Ro&es white, roses red,
Eoses ill the lane.
Tell me, roses red and ivhite^
Jlliere is
And then suddenly something seemed to grip his heart.
But the stumble was only for the fiftieth part of a second.
He continued :
Where is Jeannie (jaiie ?
And so he finished the careless little verses. Nevertheless,
Kate Menzies, returning to her seat, had noticed that quick,
instinctive pulling of himself up.
" And who's Jeannie when she's at home ?" she asked
saucily.
294 WHITE HE A THER
" Jeannie ? " lie said, with apparent indifference.
" Jeannie ? There's plenty o' that name about."
" Ay ; and how many o' them are at Inver-Mudal ? " she
asked, regarding him shrewdly, and with an air which he
resented.
But the little incident passed. There was more sing-
ing, drinking, smokiug, talking of nonsense and laughing.
And at last the time came for the merry companions to
separate : and he went away home through the dark streets
alone. He had drunk too much, it must be admitted ;
but he had a hard head ; and he had kept his wits about
him ; and even now as he ascended the stone stairs to his
lodgings he remembered with a kind of shiver, and also
with not a little heartfelt satisfaction, how he had just
managed to save himself from bringing Meenie's name
before that crew.
CHAPTER XXX.
ENTANGLEMENTS.
And then came along the great evening on which the first
of Eonald's songs that Mr. Jaap had set to music was to
be sung at the Harmony Club. Ronald had unluckily got
into the way of going a good deal to that club. It was a
relief from weary days and vain regrets ; it was a way of
escape from the too profuse favours that Kate Menzies
wished to shower upon him. Moreover, he had become
very popular there. His laugh was hearty ; his jokes and
sarcasms were always good-natured ; he could drink with
the best without getting quarrelsome. His acquaintance-
ship rapidly extended ; his society was eagerly bid for in
the rough-and-ready fashion that prevails towards midnight ;
and long after the club was closed certain of these boon-
companions would " keep it up " in this or the other
bachelor's lodgings, while through the open window there
rang out into the empty street the oft-repeated chorus —
" We are na fou\ ice're nae that foii',
But just a drappie in our e'e;
■ -, Tlie cock may craw, the day may dato.
And aye we^ll taste the barley bree ! "
ENTANGLEMENTS 295
The night -time seemed to go by so easily ; the daytime
was so slow. He still did his best, it is true, to get on with
this work that had so completely lost all its fascination for
him ; and he tried hard to banish dreams. For one thing,
he had gathered together all the fragments of verse he had
written about Meenie, and had added thereto the little
sketch of Inver-Mudal she had given him ; and that parcel
he had resolutely locked away, so that he should no longer
be tempted to waste the hours in idle musings, and in
useless catechising of himself as to how he came to be
in Glasgow at all. He had forborne to ask from Maggie
the answer that Meenie had sent to her letter. In truth,
there were many such ; for there was almost a constant
correspondence between these two ; and as the chief sub-
ject of Maggie's writings was always and ever Ronald,
there were no doubt references to him in the replies that
came from Inver-Mudal. But he only heard vaguely of
these ; he did not call often at his brother's house ; and
he grew to imagine that the next definite news he would
hear about Meenie would be to the effect that she had
been sent to live with the Stuarts of Glengask, with a view
to her possible marriage with some person in their rank of
life.
There was a goodly to-do at the Harmony Club on the
evening of the production of the new song ; for Ronald, as
has been said, was much of a favourite ; and his friends
declared that if Jaap's music was at all up to the mark,
then the new piece would be placed on the standard and
permanent list. Mr. Jaap's little circle, on the other
hand, who had heard the air, were convinced that the
refrain would be caught at once ; and as the success of
the song seemed thus secure, Mrs. Menzies had resolved
to celebrate the occasion by a supper after the perform-
ance, and Jimmy Laidlaw had presented her, for that
purpose, with some game which he declared was of his
own shooting.
" What's the use o' making such a fuss about nothing ? "
Ronald grumbled.
" What ? " retorted the big skipper facetiously. " Nae-
thing ? Is bringing out a new poet naething ? "
Now this drinking song, as it turned out, was a very
296 WHITE HE A THER
curious kind of drinking song. Observe that it was written
by a young fellow of eight-and-twenty ; of splendid physique,
and of as yet untouched nerve, who could not possibly
have had wide experience of the vanities and disappoint-
ments of human life. What iron had entered into his soul,
then, that a gay and joyous drinking song should have
been written in this fashion ? — •
Goodu friends and neighhours, life is short.
And man, iTiey say, is made to mourn;
Dame Fortune maizes iis all her sport.
And laughs our vert/ best to scorn :
Well, icell ; ice'll have, if that he so,
A merry glass before we go.
The blue-eyed lass u'ill change her mind,
And give her hisses otherichere ;
And she'll be cruel that ^vas kind,
And pass you by with but a stare:
Well, v:ell ; weUl have, if that be so,
A merry glass before ice go.
The silly laddie sits and fills
Wi' dreams and schemes the first 0' life;
And then comes heap on heap 0' ills.
And squalling bairns and scolding wife:
Well, icell ; ice'll have, if that be so,
A merry glass before ice go.
Come stir the fire and mahe us icarm;
The night tcithout is dark and icet ;
An hour or tica 'tic ill do nae harm
The dints 0' fortune to forget :
So noio we'll have, come iceal or icoe.
Another glass before ice go.
To bonny lasses, honest blades, —~
We'll up and give a hearty cheer;
Contention is the worst of trader —
We drink their health, both far and near:
And so we'll have, come iceal or ivoe.
Another glass before we go.
And here's ourselves .' — no much to boast ;
For man's a icean that lives and learns;
And some icin hame. and some are lost;
But still — we're all John Thomson's bairns I
So here, your hand'. — come iceal or xcoe,
Another glass before ice go !
ENTANGLEMENTS 297
'•^ And some win hame, and some are lost'''' — this was a
curious note to strike in a bacchanalian song ; but of course
in that atmosphere of tobacco and whisky and loud-voiced
merriment such minor touches were altogether unnoticed.
" Gentlemen," called out the rubicund chairman, rapping
on the table, " silence, if you please. Mr. Aikman is about
to favour us with a new song written by our recently-elected
member, Mr. Ronald Strang, the music by our old friend
Mr. Jaap. Silence — silence, if you please."
Mr. Aikman, who was a melancholy-looking youth, with
a white face, straw-coloured hair, and almost colourless eyes,
stepped on to the platform, and after the accompanist had
played a few bars of prelude, began the song. Feeble as
the young man looked, he had, notwithstanding, a powerful
baritone voice ; and the air was simple, with a well-marked
swing in it ; so that the refrain — -at first rather uncertain
and experimental — became after the first verse more and
more general, until it may be said that the whole room
formed the chorus. And from the very beginning it was
clear that the new song was going to be a great success.
Any undercurrent of reflection — or even of sadness — there
might be in it Avas not perceived at all by this roaring
assemblage ; the refrain was the practical and actual thing ;
and when once they had fairly grasped the air, they sang
the chorus with a will. Nay, amid the loud burst of
applause that followed the last verse came numerous cries
for an encore ; and these increased until the whole room
was clamorous ; and then the pale-faced youth had to step
back on to the platform and get through all of the verses
again.
" So here, your liand ! — come iveal or icoe,
Another glass hefure ive go ! "
roared the big skipper and Jimmy Laidlaw with the best of
them ; and then in the renewed thunder of cheering that
followed —
" Man, I wish Kate Menzies was here," said the one ;
and —
" Your health, Ronald, lad ; yeVe done the trick this
time," said the other.
" Gentlemen," said the chairman, again calling them to
298 WHITE HEATHER
silence, " I propose that the thanks of the club be given to
these two members whom I have named, and who have
kindly allowed us to place this capital song on our per-
manent list."
" I second that, Mr. Chairman," said a little, round, fat
man, with a beaming- countenance and a bald head ; " and
I propose that we sing that song every night just afore we
leave."
But this last suggestion was drowned amidst laughter and
cries of dissent. " What ? — instead of ' Auld Lang Syne ' ? "
" Ye're daft, Johu Campbell." " Would ye hae the ghost o'
Eobbie Burns turning up ? " Indeed, the chairman had to
interpose and suavely say that while the song they had just
heard would bring any such pleasant evenings as they spent
together to an appropriate close, still, they would not disturb
cstablislied precedent ; there Would be many occasions, he
hoped, for them to hear this production of two of their
most talented members.
In the interval of noise and talk and laughter that
followed, it seemed to Eonald that haK the people in the
hall wanted him to drink with them. Fame came to him
in the shape of unlimited proffers of glasses of whisky ; and
he experienced so much of the delight of having become a
public character as consisted in absolute strangers assuming
the right to make his acquaintance off-hand. Of course
they were all members of the same club ; and in no case
Avas very strict etiquette observed within these four walls ;
nevertheless Eonald found that he had immediately and
indefinitely enlarged the circle of his acquaintances ; and
that this meant drink.
" Another glass ? " he said, to one of those strangers who
had thus casually strolled up to the table where he sate.
" My good friend, there was nothing said in that wretched
song about a caskful. I've had too many other ones
already."
However, relief came ; the chairman hammered on the
table ; the business of the evening was resumed ; and the
skipper, Jaap, Laidlaw, and Eonald were left to them-
selves.
Now there is no doubt that this little circle of friends
was highly elated over the success of the new song ; and
ENTANGLEMENTS 299
Ronald had been pleased enough to hear the words he had
written so quickly caught up and echoed by that, to him,
big assemblage. Probably, too, they had all of them, in
the enthusiasm of the moment, been somewhat liberal in
their cups : at all events, a little later on in the evening,
when Jimmy Laidlaw stormily demanded that Eonald should
sing a song from the platform — to show them what East
Lothian could do, as Kate Menzies had said — Ronald did
not at once, as usual, shrink from the thought of facing so
large an audience. It was the question of the accompani-
ment, he said. He had had no practice in singing to a
piano. He would put the man out. Why should he not
sing here — if sing he must — at the table where they were
sitting ? That was what he was used to ; he had no skill
in keeping correct time ; he would only bother the accom-
panist, and bewilder himself.
" No, I'll tell ye what it is, Ronald, my lad," his friend
Jaap said to him. " I'll play the accompaniment for ye,
if ye pick out something I'm familiar wi' ; and don't you
heed me ; you look after yourself. Even if ye change the
key — and that's not likely — I'll look after ye. Is't a
bargain ? "
Well, he was not afraid — on this occasion. It was
announced from the chair that Mr. Ronald Strang, to whom
they were already indebted, would favour the company with
" The MacGregors' Gathering," accompanied by Mr. Jaap ;
and in the rattle of applause that followed this announce-
ment, Ronald made his way across the floor and went up
the couple of steps leading to the platform. Why he had
consented he hardly knew, nor did he stay to ask. It
was enough that he had to face this long hall, and its
groups of faces seen through the pale haze of the tobacco
smoke ; and then the first notes of the piano startled him
into the necessity of getting into the same key. He began
— a little bewildered, perhaps, and hearing his own voice
too consciously —
" r/te mooji's on the lahe, and the mist's on the hrae,
And the clan has a name that is nameless by day."
" Louder, man, louder ! " the accompanist muttered,
imder his breath.
3od White he a ther
Whether it was this admonition, or whether it was that
he gained confidence from feeling himself in harmony with
the firm-struck notes of the accompaniment, his voice rose
in clearness and courage, and he got through the first verse
with very fair success. Nay, when he came to the second,
and the music went into a pathetic minor, the sensitiveness
of his ear still carried him through bravely —
" Glenorchi/s proud mountains, Colchurn and her towers,
Glenstrae and Glen Lyon no longer are ours —
We're landless, landless, landless, Gregalach."
All this was very well done ; for he began to forget his
audience a little, and to put into his singing something of
the expression that had come naturally enough to him when
he was away on the Clebrig slopes or w'andering along
Strath-Terry. As for the audience — when he had finished
and stepped back to his seat — they seemed quite electrified.
Not often had such a clear-ringing voice penetrated that
murky atmosphere. But nothing would induce Eonald to
repeat the performance.
" What made me do it ! " he kept asking himself. " What
made me do it ? Bless me, surely I'm no fou' ? "
" Ye've got a most extraordinarily fine voice, Mr. Strang,"
the chairman said, in his most complaisant manner, " I hope
it's not the last time ye'll favour us."
Eonald did not answer this. He seemed at once moody
and restless. Presently he said —
" Come away, lads, come away. In God's name let's
get a breath o' fresh air — the smoke o' this place is like the
bottomless pit."
" Then let's gang down and have a chat wi' Kate
Menzies," said Jimmy Laidlaw at once.
" Ye're after that supper, Jimmy ! " the big skipper said
facetiously.
" What for no ? Would ye disappoint the woman ;
and her sae anxious to hear what happened to Strang's
poetry ? Come on, Eonald — she'll be as proud as
Punch. And we'll tell her about ' The MacGregors'
Gathering' — she said East Lothian would show them
something."
" Yery well, then — very well ; anything to get out o*
ENTANGLEMENTS 301
here," Eonald said ; and away they all went down to the
tavern.
The widow received them most graciously ; and very
sumptuous indeed was the entertainment she had provided
for them. She knew that the drinking song would be
successful — if the folk had common sense and ears. And
he had simg "The MacGregors' Gathering" too? — Avell,
had they ever heard singing like that before ?
" But they have been worrying you "i " she said, glancing
shrewdly at him. " Or, what's the matter — ye look down
in the mouth — indeed, Ronald, ye've never looked yoursel'
since the night ye came in here just before the grouse
shooting began. Here, man, drink a glass 0' champagne ;
that'll rouse ye up."
Old mother Paterson was at this moment opening a
bottle.
" Not one other drop of anything, Katie, lass, will 1
drink this night," Eonald said.
" What ? A lively supper we're likely to have, then ! "
the widow cried. " "Where's your spunk, man ? I think
ye're broken-hearted about some lassie — that's what it is !
Here, now."
She brought him the foaming glass of champagne ; but
he would not look at it.
" And if I drink to your health out of the same glass ? "
She touched the glass with her lips.
" There, now, if you're a man, ye'll no refuse noo."
Nor could he. And then the supper came along ; and
there was eating and talking and laughing and further
drinking, until a kind of galvanised hilarity sprang up once
more amongst them. And she would have Ronald declare
to them which of the lasses in Sutherlandshire it was who
had broken his heart for him ; and, in order to get her
away from the subject, he was very amenable in her hands,
and would do anything she l)ade him, singing first one
song and then another, and not refusing the drinking of
successive toasts. As for the others, they very prudently
declined having anything to do with champagne. But
Ronald was her pet, her favourite ; and she had got a
special box of cigars for him — all wrapped up in silverfoil
and labelled ; and she would have them tell her over and
302 WHITE HE A THER
over again how Eonald's voice sounded in the long hall
when he sang —
" Glenstrae and Glen Lyon no longer are ours,"
and she would have them tell her again of the thunders of
cheering that followed —
" Well, loell; we'll have, if that be so.
Another glass before we go."
Nay, she would have them try a verse or two of it there
and then — led by Mr. Jaap ; and she herself joined in the
chorus ; aud they clinked their glasses together, and were
proud of their vocalisation and their good comradeship.
Indeed, they prolonged tliis jovial evening as late as the
law allowed them I and then the widow said gaily—
" There's that poor man thinks I'm gaun to allow him
to gang away to that wretched hole o' a lodging o' his,
Avhere he's just eating his heart out wi' solitariness and a
\vheen useless books. But I'm not. I ken better than
that, Eonald, my lad. Whilst ye've a' been singing and
roaring, I've had a room get ready for ye ; and there ye'll
sleep this night, -my man — for I'm not going to hae ye
march away through the lonely streets, and may be cut
your throat ere daybreak ; and ye can lock yourself in, if
ye're feared that any warlock or bogle is likely to come
and snatch ye ; and in the morning ye'll come down and
have your breakfast wi' auntie Paterson and me — and then
— what then ? What do ye think ? When the dog-cart's
at the door, and me gaun to drive ye oot to Campsie
Glen ? There, laddie, that's the programme ; and wet or
dry is my motto. If it's wet we'll sing ' Come under my
plaidie ' ; and we'll take a drop o' something comfortable
wi' us to keep out the rain."
" I wish I was gaun wi' ye. Mistress," the big skipper said.
" Two's company and three's none." said Kate Menzies,
with a frank laugh. " Is't a bargain, Eonald ? "
" It's a bargain, lass ; and there's my hand on't," he said,
" Now, Where's this room — for I don't know whether it has
been the smoke, or the singing, or the whisky, or all o'
them together, but my head's like a ship sailing before the
wind, without any helm to steer her."
"Your head" she said proudly. "Your head's like
CAMPSIE GLEN 303
iron, man ; there's nothing the matter wi' ye. And here's
Alec — he'll show you where your room is ; and in the
morning ring for whatever ye want ; mind ye, a glass 0'
champagne and angostura bitters is just first-rate ; and we'll
have breakfast at whatever hour ye please — and then we'll
be off to Campsie Glen."
The little party now broke up, each going his several
way ; and Eonald, having bade them all good-night,
followed the ostler-lad Alec along one or two gloomy cor-
ridors until he found the room that had been prepared for
him. As he got to bed he was rather sick and sorry about
the whole night's proceedings, he scarcely knew why ; and
his thinking faculty was in a nebulous condition ; and he
only vaguely knew that he would rather not have pledged
himself to go to Campsie Glen on the fohowing morning.
jSTo matter — " another glass hefore ive go,''^ that was the last of
the song they had all shouted : he had forgotten that other
line — " and some ivin liame, and some are lostT
CHAPTER XXXI.
CAHPSIE GLEN
The next morning, between nine and ten o'clock, there was
a rapping at his door, and then a further rapping, and then
he awoke — confused, uncertain as to his Avhereabouts, and
with his head going like a threshing machine. Again there
came the loud rapping.
" Come in, then," he called aloud.
The door was opened, and there was the young widow,
smiling and jocund as the morn, and very smartly attired ;
and alongside of her was a servant-lass bearing a small tray,
on which were a tumbler, a pint bottle of champagne, and
some angostura bitters.
" Bless me, woman," he said, " I was wondering where
I was. And what's this now ? — do ye want to make a
drunkard o' me ? "
" Not I," said Kate Menzies blithely, " I want to make a
man o' ye. Ye'll just take a glass o' this, Ronald, my lad ;
and then ye'll get up and come down to breakfast ; for
we're going to have a splendid drive. The weather's as
304 WHITE HEATHER
bright and clear as a new shilling ; and I've been uj* since
seven o'clock, and I'm free for the day now. Here ye are,
lad ; this'll put some life into ye."
She shook a few drops of bitters into the tumbler, and
then poured out a foaming measure of the amber-coloured
wine, and offered it to him. He refused to take it.
" I canna look at it, lass. There was too much o' that
going last night."
" And the very reason you should take a glass now ! "
she said. " Well, I'll leave it on the mantelpiece, and ye
can take it when ye get up. Make haste, Eonald, lad ; it's
a pity to lose so fine a morning."
When they had left, he dressed as rapidly as possible,
and went down. Breakfast was awaiting him — though it
did not tempt him much. And then, by and by, the
smart dog-cart was at the door ; and a hamper was put in ;
and Kate Menzies got up and took the reins. There was
no sick-and-sorriness al^ont her at all events. She was
radiant and laughing and saucy ; she wore a driving-coat
fastened at the neck by a horse-shoe brooch of brilliants,
and a white straw hat with a wide-sweeping jet-black ostrich
feather. It was clear that the tavern was a paying concern.
" And why will ye aye sit behind, Mr. Strang " mother
Paterson whined, as she made herself comfortable in front.
" I am sure Katie would rather have ye here than an auld
wife like me. You could talk to her ever so much better."
" That would be a way to go driving through Glasgow
town," he said, as he swung himself up on the back seat ;
" a man in front and a woman behind ! Never you fear ;
there can be plenty of talking done as it is."
But as they drove away through the city — and even
Grlasgow looked quite bright and cheerful on this sunny
morning, and there was a stirring of cool air that was
grateful enough to his throbbing temples — it appeared that
the buxom widow^ w-anted to have most of the talking to
herself. She was very merry ; and laughed at his peniten-
tial scorn of himself and was for spurring him on to
further poetical efforts.
" East Lothian for ever ! " she was saying, as they got
away out by the north of the town. " Didna I tell them ?
Ay, and ye've got to do something better yet, Ronald, my
tAMPSIE GLEN 305
lad, than the ' other glass before we go.' You're no
at that time o' life yet to talk as if everything had gone
■vn'ong ; and the blue-eyed lass — ^what blue-eyed lass was it,
I wonder, that passed ye by with but a stare ? Let her,
and welcome, the hussy ; there's plenty others. But no, my
lad, what I want ye to write is a song about Scotland, and
the East Lothian part o't especially. Ye've no lived long
enough in the Hielans to forget your ain country, have
ye ? and where's there a song about Scotland nowadays ?
' Caledonia's hills and dales ' ? — stuff ! — I wonder Jaa]>
Avould hae bothered his head about rubbish like that.
ISTo, no ; we'll show them whether East Lothian canna
do the trick ! — and it's no the Harmony Club but the
City Hall 0' Glasgow that ye'll hear that song sung in — ■
that's better like ! Ye mind what Eobbie says, Ronald,
my lad ? —
" ' £"en ilien a ivisJi, I mind its poirer — •
A icish that to my latest hour
Shall strongly heave my hreast — ■
That I for poor auld Scotland's sahe.
Some usefu' ijlan or hooh coidd make.
Or sing a sang at least.'
That's what ye've got to do yet, my man."
And so they bowled along the wide whinstone road, out
into this open landscape that seemed to lie behind a thin
veil of pale-blue smoke.- It was the country, no doubt ; but
a kind of sophisticated country ; there were occasional
grimy villages and railway-embankments and canals and
what not ; and the pathway that ran alongside the wi.le
highway was of black ashes — not much like a Sutherland-
shire road. However, as they got still farther away from
the town matters improved. There were hedges and
woods — getting a touch of the golden autumn on their
foliage now ; the landscape grew brighter ; those hills far
ahead of them rose into a fairly clear blue sky. And then
the brisk motion and the fresher air seemed to drive away
from him the dismal recollections of the previous night ; he
ceased to upbraid himself for having been induced to sing
before all those people ; he would atone for the reckless-
ness of his potations by taking greater care in the future.
So that when in due course of time they reached the inn
X
3o6 WHITE HE A THER
fit the foot of Campsio Glen, and had the horse and trap
put up, and set out to explore the beauties of that not too
savage solitude, he was in a sufficiently cheerful frame of
mind, and Kate Menzies had no reason to complain of her
companion.
They had brought a luncheon basket with them ; and as
he had refused the proffered aid of a stable-lad, he had to
carry this himself, and Kate Menzies was a liberal provider.
Accordingly, as they began to make their way up the steep
and slippery ascent — for rain had recently fallen, and the
narrow path was sloppy enough — he had to leave the two
women to look after themselves ; and a fine haphazard
scramble and hauling and pushing — with screams of fright
and bursts of laughter — ensued. This was hardly the proper
mood in which to seek out Nature in her sylvan retreats ;
but the truth is that the glen itself did not wear a very
romantic aspect. JSTo doubt there were massive boulders in
the bed of the stream : and they had to clamber past
precipitous rocks ; and overhead was a wilderness of foliage.
But everything was dull-hued somehow, and damp-looking,
and dismal ; the green-mossed boulders, the stems of the
trees, the dark red earth were all of a sombre hue ; while
here and there the eye caught sight of a bit of newspaper,
or of an empty soda-water bottle, or perchance of the
non-idyllic figure of a Glasgow youth seated astride a
fallen bough, a pot-hat on his head and a Manilla cheroot
in his mouth. But still, it was more of the country than
the Broomielaw ; and when Kate and her companion had
to pause in their panting struggle up the slippery path,
and after she had recovered her breath sufficiently to
demand a halt, she would turn to pick ferns from the
dripping rocks, or to ask Ronald if there were any more
jjicturesque place than this in Sutherlandshire. Xow
Eonald was not in the least afflicted by the common curse
of travellers — the desire for comparison ; he was well
content to say that it was a " pretty bit glen " ; for one thing
his attention was chiefly devoted to keeping his footing, for
the heavy basket was a sore encumbrance.
However, after some further climbing, they reached
certain drier altitudes ; and there the hamper was deposited,
while they looked out for such trunks or big stones as
I
CAMPS IE GLEN 307
would make convenient seats. The old woman was speech-
less from exhaustion ; Kate was laughing at her own
breathlessness, or miscalling the place for having dirtied
her boots and her skirts ; while Eonald was bringing things
together for their comfort, so that they could have their
luncheon in peace. This was not quite the same kind of
a luncheon party as that he had attended on the shores of
the far northern loch — with Miss Carry complacently re-
garding the silver-clear salmon lying on the smooth, dry
greensward ; and the American talking in his friendly
fashion of the splendid future that lay before a capable
and energetic young fellow in the great country beyond the
seas ; while all around them the sweet air was blowing, and
the clear light shining, and the white clouds sailing high
over the Clebrig slopes. Things were changed with him
since then — he did not himself know how much they had
changed. But in all circumstances he was abundantly
good-natured and grateful for any kindness shown him ;
and as Kate Menzies had projected this trip mainly on his
account, he did his best to promote good-fellowship, and
was sers^iceable and handy, and took her raillery in excellent
part.
" Katie dear," whimpered old mother Paterson, as Eonald
took out the things from the hamper, " ye jist spoil every one
that comes near ye. Such extravagance— such waste — ■
many's the time I wish ye would get married, and have a
man to look after ye •"
" Stop your havering — who would marry an auld woman
like me ? " said Mrs. Menzies with a laugh. " Ay, and what's
the extravagance, noo, that has driven ye oot o' your
mind ? "
" Champagne again ! " the old woman said, shaking her
head. " Champagne again ! Dear me, it's like a Duke's
house "
" What, ye daft auld craytur ? "Would ye have me take
my cousin Ronald for his first trip to Campsie Glen, and
bring out a gill 0' whisky in a soda-water bottle ? "
" Indeed, Katie, lass, ye needna have brought one thing
or the other for me," he said. " It's a drop 0' water, and
nothing else, that will serve my turn."
" We'll see about that," she said confidently.
X 2
3o8 WHITE HEATHER
Her provisioning was certainly of a sumptuous nature — ■
far more sumptuous, indeed, than the luncheons the rich
Americans used to have carried down for them to the loch-
side, and a perfect banquet as compared with the frugal
bit of cold beef and bread that Lord Ailine and his friends
allowed themselves on the hill. Then, as regards the
champagne, she would take no refusal — he had to submit,
She was in the gayest of moods ; she laughed and joked ;
nay, at one point, she raised her glass aloft, and waved it
round her head, and sang —
" 0 send Leivie Gordon hame,
And the lad I daurna name;
Though his had: he at the tea',
Mere's to him that's far aica' ! "
" "What, what, lass ? " Ronald cried grimly. " Are ye
thinking ye're in a Highland glen ? Do ye think it was
frae places like this that the lads were called out to follow
Prince Charlie ? "
" I carena — I carena ! " she said ; for what had trivial
details of history to do with a jovial picnic in Campsie
Glen ? " Come, Ronald, lad, tune up ! Hang the Harmony
Club ! — give us a song in the open air I "
" Here goes, then —
' It was ahout the Martinmas time,
And a gay time it ivas then, 0,
That our guidwife had puddins to mal;*,
And she boiled them in the fan, 0 ' " —
and then rang out the chorus, even the old mother
Paterson joining in with a feeble treble —
" 0 the harrin' o' our door, weel, weel, weel,
And the harrin' a' our door, weel!"
" Your health and song, Ronald ! " she cried, when he
had finished — or rather when they all had finished. " Man,
if there was just a laddie here wi' a fiddle or a penny
whistle I'd get up and dance a Highland Schottische wi'
ye — auld as I am ! "
After luncheon, they set out for further explorations
(having deposited the basket in a secret place) and always
CAMPSIE GLEN 309
Kate Menzie's laugh was the loudest, her jokes the
merriest.
" Auld, say ye ? " mother Paterson complained. " A
lassie — a very lassie I Ye can skip about like a twa-year-
auld colt."
By and by they made their devious and difficult way
down the glen again ; and they had tea at the inn ; and
then they set out to drive back to Glasgow — and there was
much singing the while. That is, up to a certain point ;
for this easy homeward drive, as it turned out, was destined
to be suddenly and sharply stopped short, and that in a
way that might have produced serious consequences. They
were bowling merrily along, taking very little heed of any-
thing on either side of them, when, as it chanced, a small
boy who had gone into a field to .recover a kite that had
dropped there, came up unobserved behind the hedge, and
threw the kite over, preparatory to his struggling through
himself. The sudden appearance of this white thing
startled the cob ! it swerved to the other side of the road,
hesitated, and was like to rear, and then getting an incau-
tious cut from Kate's whip, away it tore along the highway,
getting completely the mastery of her. Ronald got up
behind.
" Give me the reins, lass," he called to her.
" I'll manage him — the stupid beast ! " she said ; with
her teeth shut firm.
But all her pulling seemed to make no impression on
the animal — nay, the trap was now swaying and jolting
about in a most ominous manner.
"If ye meet anything, we're done for, Kate — run the
wheel into the hedge."
It was excellent advice, if it could have been properly
followed ; but unluckily, just at the very moment when,
with all her might and main, she twisted the head of the
cob to the side of the road, there happened to be a deep
ditch there. Over the whole thing went — Eonald and
Mrs. Menzies being pitched clean into the hedge ; mother
Paterson, not hanging on so well, being actually deposited
on the other side, but in a gradual fashion. Oddly enough,
the cob, with one or two pawings of his forefeet, got on to
the road again, and the trap righted itself ; while a farm-
310 WHITE HEATHER
lad who had been coming along ran to the beast's head
and held him. As it turned out, there was no harm done
at all.
Bat that, at first, was apparently not Kate Menzies's
impression.
"Ronald, Eonakl," she cried, and she clung to him
frantically, " I'm dying — I'm dying — kiss me ! "
He had got a grip of her, and was getting her on to her
feet again.
"There's nothing the matter wi' ye, woman," he said,
with unnecessary roughness.
" Eonald, Eonald — I'm hurt — I'm dying — kiss me ! "
she cried, and she would have fallen away from him, but
that he gathered her up, and set her upright on the road.
"There's nothing the matter wi' ye — what? tumbling
into a hawthorn hedge ? — pull yourself together, woman !
It's old mother Paterson that may have been hurt."
He left her unceremoniously to get over to the other
side of the edge, and as he went off she darted a look
of anger — of violent rage, even — towards him, which
happily he did not see. Moreover, she had to calm
herself ; the farm lad was looking on. And when at
length mother Paterson — who was merely terrified, and
\vas quite uninjured — was hoisted over or through the
hedge, and they all prepared to resume their seats in the
trap, Kate Menzies was apparently quite collected and
mistress of herself, though her face was somewhat pale,
and her manner was distinctly reserved and cold. She
gave the lad a couple of shillings ; got up and took the
reins ; waited until the others were seated, and then drove
away without a word. Mother Paterson was loud in her
thankfulness over such a providential escape ; she had only
had her wrists scratched slightly.
Ronald was sensible of her silence, though he could not
well guess the cause of it. Perhaps the fright had sobered
down her high spirits ; at all events, she was now more
circumspect with her driving ; and, as her attention was so
much devoted to the cob, it was not for him to interfere.
As they drew near Glasgow, however, she relaxed the cold
severity of her manner, and made a few observations ; and
when they came in sight of St. EoUox, she even con-
CAM PS IE GLEN 311
descended to ask him whether he would not go ou with
them to the tavern and have some supper with them as
usual.
" I ought to go back to my work," said he, " and that's
the truth. But it would be a glum ending for sach an
unusual holiday as this."
" Your prospects are not so very certain," said Kate, who
could talk excellent English when she chose, and kept her
broad Scotch for familiar or affectionate intercourse. " An
hour or two one way or the other is not likely to make
much difference."
" I am beginning to think that myseK," he said, rather
gloomily.
And then, with a touch of remorse for the depressing
speech she had made, she tried to cheer him a little ; and,
in fact, insisted on his going on with them. She even
quoted a couplet from his own song to him^
" J.?i hour or tiva 'tioill do nae harm,
The dints 0' fortune to forget;"
and she said that, after the long drive, he ought to have
a famous appetite for supper, and that there would be a
good story to tell about their being shot into a hawthorn
hedge, supposing that the skipper and Laidlaw and Jaap
came in in the evening.
Nevertheless, all during the evening there was a certain
restraint in her manner. Altogether gone was her profuse
friendship and her pride in East Lothian, although she
remained as hospitable as ever. Sometimes she regarded
him sharply, as if trying to make out something. On his
part, he thought she was probably a little tired after the
fatigues of the day ; perhaps, also, he preferred her quieter
manner.
Then again, when the ^^ drei Geseflm^^ came in, there
was a little less hilarity than usual ; and, contrary to her
wont, she did not press them to stav when they proposed
to adjourn to the club, llonald, who had been vaguely
resolving not to go near that haunt for some time to come,
found that that was the alternative to his returning to his
solitary lodging and his books at a comparatively early
hour of the evening. Doubtless he should have conquered
3 1 2 WHITE HE A THER
his repugnance to this latter course ; but the temptation — ■
after a long day of pleasure-making — to finish up the last
hour or so in the society of these good fellows was great.
He went to the Harmony Club, and was made more
welcome than ever ; and somehow, in the excitement of the
moment, he was induced to sing another song, and there
were more people than ever claiming his acquaintance, and
challenging him to have " another one."
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE DOWNWARD WAY.
With a fatal certainty he was going from bad to worse ;
and there was no one to w^arn him ; and if any one had
warned him, probably he would not have cared. Life had
come to be for him a hopeless and useless thing. His
own instinct had answered true, when the American was
urging him to go and cast himself into the eager strife of
the world, and press forward to the universal goal of wealth
and ease and independence. " I'd rather be ' where the
dun deer lie,' " he had said. Kingsley's poem had taken
firm root in his mind, simply because it found natural soil
there.
" Nor I ivadna he a clerk, mitlier, to hide aye hen,
Scrahhling oiver the sheets o' parchment ivith a weary, iceary peyi ;
Looking through the Jang stane windows at a narroio strip o' shy,
Like a laverock in a withy cage, until I pine away and die.
******
Ye'll hury me 'twixt the hrae and the burn, in a glen far away.
Where I may hear the heafhcock craiu and the great harts hray ;
And gin my ghaist can icalk, mither, I'll go glowering at the sky,
The livelong night on the black hillsides where the dun deer lie."
His way of existence up there on the far hillsides — unlike
that of the luckless outlaw — had been a perfectly happy
and contented one. His sound common sense had put
away from him that craving for fame which has rendered
so miserable the lives of many rustic verse writers ; he was
proud of his occupation, grateful to the good friends around
him, and always in excellent health and spirits. Another
THE DOWNWARD WAY 313
thing has to be said — to pacify the worthy folk who
imagine that ambition must necessarily fill the mind of
youth : had he come away from that sphere of careless
content with a sufficient aim to strive for, perhaps affairs
might have gone differently. If it could have been said to
him : " Fight your way to the worldly success that the
Americans have so liberally prophesied for you ; and then
come back, and you will find Meenie Douglas awaiting
you ; and you shall win her and wear her, as the rose and
crown of your life, in spite of all the Stuarts of Grlengask "
— then the little room in Port Dundas Road would no
longer have been so gray ; and all the future would have
been filled with Hght and hope ; and the struggle, however
arduous and long, would have been glad enough. But
with no such hope ; with increasing doubts as to his
ultimate success ; and with a more dangerously increasing
indifference as to whether he should ever reach that
success, the temptations of the passing hour became irre-
sistibly strong. And he became feebler to resist them.
He did not care. After all, these gay evenings at the
Harmony Club were something to look forward to during
the long dull days ; with a full glass and a good-going pipe
and a roaring chorus the hours passed ; and then from
time to time there was the honour and glory of hearing
one of his own songs sung. He was a great figure at these
gatherings now ; that kind of fame at least had come to
him, and come to him unsought ; and there were not
wanting a sufficiency of rather muddle-headed creatures
who declared that he was fit to rank with very distinguished
names indeed in the noble roll-call of Scotland's poets ;
and who, unfortunately, were only too eager to prove the
faith that was in them by asking him to drink at their
expense.
In this rhyming direction there was one very curious
point : when he began to turn over the various pieces that
might be made available for Mr. Jaap, he was himself
astonished to find how little melody there was in them.
Whatever little musical faculty he had seemed to be all
locked up in the love-verses he had written about Meenie.
Many of the fragments had other qualities — homely
common sense ; patriotism ; a great affection for dumb
314 WHITE HEATHER
animals ; here and there sometimes a touch of humour or
pathos ; but somehow they did not sing. It is true that
the following piece —
SHOUT HEE TO S ROUTE ER.
From Hudson's Bay to the Bio Grand',
The Scot is ever a rover;
In Netv South Wales and in Neivfoundland,
And all the wide world over ;
Cliorus : But it's slioutlier to shouther, my honnie lads,
And let every Scot he a brifher ;
And ive'll icorh as ice can, and ice'll via if loe can,
For the salce of our aidd Scotch mitlicr.
She's a puir aidd ivife. ivi' little to give ;
And she's rather stint o' caressing ;
But she's shown us how honest lives we may live.
And she's sent us out wi' her blessing.
Clioras: And it's shouther to shouther, etc.
Her land's no rich ; and her crops are slim ;
And I winna say much for the weather;
But she's given us legs that can gaily dim'
Up the slopes o' the blossoming heather.
Chorus : And it's- shouther to shouther, etc.
And she's given us hearts that, ivhatever they say
{And I trow that ive might be better")
There's one sair fault they never loill lute —
Our mither, we'll never forget her !
Chorus: And it's shouther to shoidher, my bonnie lads,
And let every Scot be a brither ;
And ice'll work as ive can, and we'll win if loe can,
For the sahe of our aidd Scotch mither!
had attained a great success at the Harmony Club; but
that was merely because Mr. Jaap had managed to write
for it an effective air, that could be easily caught up and
sung in chorus ; in itself there was no simple, natural
" lilt " whatever. And then, again, in his epistolary rhymes
to friends and acquaintances (alas ! that was all over now)
there were many obvious qualities, but certainly not the
lyrical one. Here, for example, are some verses he had
sent in former days to a certain Johnnie Pringle, living at
THE DOWNWARD WAY 315
Tongue, who had had his eye on a young lass down Loch
Loyal way :
0 Johnnie, leave the lass alane ;
Her mother has but that one wean;
For a' the others have been ta'en,
As iceel ye ken, Johnnie.
'Tis true her bonnie e\n ivould rive
The heart 0' any man alive ;
And in the husry* she would tltrivo—
I grant ye that, Johnnie.
But ivad ye tak' awa the lass,
1 tell ye what wvuld come to pass.
The mother soon u-oidd hae the grass
Boon her auld head, Johnnie.
They've got some gear, and bit 0' land
Tlint ivell icould hear another hand ;
Come doivn frae Tongue, and take your stand
By Loyal' s side, Jolmnie !
Ye'd herd a bit, and work the farm,
And keep the icidoio-wife frae harm ;
And wha woidO keep ye snug and icarm
In ivinter-time, Johnnie 1 —
The lass hersel' — that I'll be sicorn I
And bonnier creature ne'er was born:
Come down the strath the morrow's morn,
Your best foot first, Johnnie !
\sq[\, there may be wise and friendly counsel in verses such
as these ; but they do not lend themselves readily to the
musician who Avould adapt them for concert purposes.
No ; all such lyrical faculty as he possessed had been given
in one direction. And yet not for one moment was he
tempted to show Mr. Jaap any of those little love-lyrics
that he had written about Meenie — those careless verses
that seemed to sing themselves, as it were, and that were
all about summer mornings, and red and Avhite roses, and
the carolling of birds, and the whispering of Clebrig's
streams. Meenie's praises to be sung at the Harmony
Club ! — he could as soon have imagined herself singing-
there.
One wet and miserable afternoon old Peter Japp was
* " Husry," housewifery.
3i6 WHITE HEATHER
passing through St. Enoch's Square when, much to his
satisfaction, he ran against the big skipper, who had just
come out of the railway station.
" Hallo, Captain," said the little old man, " back
already ? "
" Just up frae Greenock ; and precious glad to be ashore
again, I can tell ye," said Captain M'Taggart. "That
Mary Jane '11 be my grave, mark my words ; I never get
as far south as the Mull o' Galloway without wondering
whether I'll ever see Ailsa Craig or the Tail o' the Bank
again. Well, here I am this time ; and I was gaun doon
to hae a glass on the strength o't — to the widow's "
"We'll gang in some other place," Mr. Japp said. "I
want to hae a word wi' ye about that young fellow
Strang."
They easily discovered another howf ; and soon they
were left by themselves in a little compartment, two big
tumblers of ale before them.
" Ay, and what's the matter wi' him ? " said the
skipper.
" I dinna rightly ken," the little old musician said, " but
something is. Ye see, I'm feared the lad has no' muckle
siller "
" It's a common complaint, Peter I " the skipper said,
with a laugh.
"Ay ; but ye see, the maist o' us hae some way o' leevin.
That's no the case wi' Eonald. He came to Glasgow, as I
understand it, wi' a sma' bit nest-egg ; and he's been leevin
on that ever since — every penny coming out o' his capital,
and never a penny being added. That's enough to make a
young fellow anxious."
"Ay?"
" But there's mair than that. He's a proud kind o'
chiel. It's just wonderfu' the way that Mrs. Menzies
humours him, and pretends this and that so he'll no be at
any expense ; and when they gang out driving she takes
things wi' her — and a lot o' that kind o' way o' working ;
but a' the same there's sma' expenses that canna be avoided,
and deil a bit — she says — will he let her pay. And the
sma' things maun be great things to him, if he's eating ijito
Jiis uest-egg in that way."
THE DOWNWARD WAY 31?
" It's easy getting out 0' that difficulty," said tlie big
skipper, who was of a less sympathetic nature than the old
musician. " What for does he no stay at hame ? He
doesna need to gang driving wi' her unless he likes."
" It's no easy getting away from Mrs. Menzies," the old
man said shrewdly, " if she has a mind to take ye wi'
her. And she hersel' sees that he canna afford to spend
money even on little things ; and yet she's feared to say
anything to him. Man, dinna ye mind when she wanted
him to take a room in the house ? — what was that but that
she meant him to have his board free ? But no — the
deevil has got some 0' the Hielan pride in him ; she was
just feared to say anything mail' about it. And at the
club, too, it's no every one he'll drink wi' though there's
plenty ready to stand Sam, now that Eonald is kent as a
AM'iter 0' poetry. Not that but wi' ithers he's ower free —
ay, confound him, he's getting the reputation 0' a harum-
scarum deil — if he takes a liking to a man, he'U gang off
wi' him and his neighbours for the time being, and good-
ness knows when or where they'll stop. A bottle 0' whisky
in their pocket, and off they'll make ; I heard the other
week 0' him and some 0' them finding themselves at day-
break in Helensburgh — naught would do the rascal the
night before but that he maun hae a sniff o' the saut sea-
air ; and off they set, him and them, the lang night through,
until the daylight found them staring across to Eoseneath
and Kempoch Point. He's no in the best 0' hands, that's
the fact. If he would but marry the widow — "
" What would Jimmy Laidlaw say to that ? " the skipper
said, with a loud laugh.
" Jimmy Laidlaw ? He hasna the ghost 0' a chance so
long as this young fellow's about. Kate's just daft about
him ; but he's no inclined that way, I can see — unless
hunger should tame him. Weel, M'Taggart, I dinna like
to see the lad being led away to the mischief. He's got
into ill hands. If it's the want o' a settled way 0' leevin
that's worrying him, and driving him to gang wild and
reckless at times, something should be done. I'm an auld
man now ; I've seen ower many young fellows like that
gang to auld Harry ; and I like this lad — I'm no going to
jstand by and look on without a word."
3i8 WHITE HEATHER
" Ay, and what would ye hiv me dae, Peter ? Take him
as a hand on board the Mary Jane ? "
" Na, na. The lad maun gang on wi' his surveying and
that kind o' thing — though he seems less and less to think
there'll be any solid outcome frae it. But what think ye o'
this ? There's Mr. Jackson paying they professionals from
week to week ; and here's a fellow wi' a finer natural voice
than any o' them — if it had but a little training. "Well,
now, why shouldna Jackson pay the lad for his singing ? "
" Not if he can get it for nothing, Peter ! "
" But he canna — that's just the thing, man," retorted
the other. " It's only when Ronald has had a glass and is
in the humour that he'll sing anything. Why shouldna he
be engaged like the others ? It would be a stand-by. It
would take up none o' his time. And it might make
him a wee thing steadier if he kent he had to sing every
night."
"Yery well, then, ask Tom Jackson about it," the big
skipper said. " Ye may say it would please the members —
I'll back ye up with that. Confound him, I dinna ken the
deevil had got his leg over the trace."
The old man answered with a cautious smile :
" Ye're rough and ready, " M'Taggart ; but that'll no do.
Ronald's a camstrairy chiel. There's Hielan blood in his
veins ; and ye never ken when his pride is gaun to bleeze
oot and be up the lum wi'm in a fluff."
" Beggars canna be choosers, my good freen "
"Beggars? They Hielan folk are never beggars ? they'll
rob and plunder ye, and fling ye ower a hedge, and rifle
your pockets, but deil a bit o' them '11 beg. Na, na ; we'll
have to contrive some roundabout way to see how he'll take
it. But I'll speak to Jackson ; and we'll contrive some-
thing, I doubtna. Sae finish up your beer, Captain ; and
if ye're gaun doon to see Mrs. Menzies, I'll gang as far wi'
ye ; I havena been there this nicht or twa."
Now that was an amiable and benevolent, but, as it
turned out, most unfortunate design. That same night
Ronald did show up at the Harmony Club ; and there was
a little more than usual of hilarity and good fellowship
over the return of the skipper from the perils of the
deep. Laidlaw was there too ; and he also had been
THE DOIVNIVARD WAY 319
acquainted witli the way in which they meant to approach
Ronald, to see whether he could not be induced to sing
regularly at these musical meetings for a stipulated pay-
ment.
Their first difficulty was to get him to sing at all ; and
for a long time he was good-humouredly obdurate, and they
let him alone. But later on in the evening one of his own
songs was sung — " The fisher lads are bound for hame " —
and was received with immense applause, which naturally
pleased him ; and then there was a good deal of talking
and laughing and conviviality ; in the midst of which the
skipper called to him —
"Now, Eonald lad, tune up; I havena heard a song
frae ye this three weeks and mair ; man, if I had a voice
like yours wouldna I give them —
" ' Tlie boat roclis at the pier 0' Leith,
Fu' loud the icind blams frae the ferry ;
The ship rides by the Berunek Law,
And I maun leave my bonnie Mary ! ' "
And indeed he did, in this loud and general hum, sing
these lines, in tones resembling the sharpening of a rusty
saw.
" Yery well, then," Eonald said. " But I'll sing it where
I am — once there's quietness. I'm not going up on that
platform."
Of course, the chairman was glad enough to make the
announcement, for Pionald's singing was highly appreciated
by the members ; moreover there was a little experiment to
be tried. So peace was restored ; the accompanist struck
a few notes ; and Ptonald, with a little indecision at first,
but afterwards with a clear-ringing courage, sang that gayest
of all parting songs. In the hubbub of applause that
followed none but the conspirators saw what now took
place. The chairman called a waiter, and spoke a few
words to him in an undertone ; the waiter went over to
the table where Ronald was sitting and handed him a
small package ; and then Ronald, naturally thinking that
this was merely a written message or something of the kind,
opened the folded piece of white paper.
There was a message, it is true, — " with T. Jackson's
320 WHITE HE A THER
compliments," — and there was also a sovereign and a
shilling. For an instant Eonald regarded this thing with
a kind of bewilderment ; and then his ejes blazed ; the
money was dashed on to the ground ; and, without a word
or a look to any one in the place, he had clapped on his hat
and stalked to the door, his mouth firm shut, his lips pale.
This glass door was a private door leading to an outer
passage formerly described ; the handle seemed stiff or
awkward : so by main force he drove it before him, and
the door swinging back into the lobby, smashed its glass
panels against the wall. The " breenge "• — for there is no
other word — caused by this violent departure was tremen-
dous ; and the three conspirators could only sit and look at
each other.
" The fat's in the fire now," said the skipper.
" I wonder if the guinea '11 pay for the broken glass,"
said Jimmy Laidlaw.
But it w'as the little old musician, whose scheme this had
been, who was most concerned.
" We'll have to get hold o' the lad and pacify him," said
he. " The Hielan deevil ! But if he doesna come back
here, he'll get among a worse lot than we are — we'll have
to get hold o' him. Captain, and bring him to his
senses."
Well, in the end — after a day or two — Eonald was
pacified ; and he did go back to the club, and resumed
his relations with the friends and acquaintances he had
formed there. And that was how it came about that
Meenie's married sister — who happened to know certaiu
members of the Eev. Andrew Strang's congregation, and
who was very curious to discover why it was that Meenie
betrayed such a singular interest in this mere gamekeeper,
and was repeatedly referring to him in her correspondence
— added this postscript to a letter wdiich she was sending to
Inver-Mudal :
" I don't know whether it may interest you to hear that
Eonald Strang, Mr. Strang's brother, whom you have several
times asked about, is drinldng himself to death, and that in
the lowest of low company."
A MESSAGE 321
CHAPTER XXXIII.
A MESSAGE.
Cleae and brilliant in their blue and white are these shining
northern skies ; and the winds that come blowing over the
moorland are honey-scented from the heather ; and the
wide waters of the loch are all of a ruffled and shimmering
silver, with a thin fringe of foam along the curving bays.
And this is Love Meenie that comes out from the cottage
and comes down to the road ; with perhaps less of the
wild-rose tint in her cheeks than used to be there, and less
of the ready light of gladness that used to leap into her
blue-gray eyes ; but still with that constant gentleness of
expression that seems to bring her into accord with all the
beautiful things in the landscape around her. And, indeed,
on this particular morning she is cheerful enough ; walking
briskly, chatting to the ancient terrier that is trotting at her
side, and equably regarding now the velvet-soft shadows
that steal along the sunlit slopes of Clebrig, and now the
wheehng and cu'chng of some peewits that have been
startled from their marshy haunts by the side of the
stream.
" And who knows but that there may be a message or a
bit of news for us this morning ? " she says to the faithful
Harry. " For yonder comes the mail. And indeed it's
well for you, my good little chap, that you can't understand
how far away Glasgow is ; I suppose you expect to see your
master at any minute, at every turn of the road. And if
lie should send you a message — or Maggie either — how am
I to tell you ? "
The pretty Nelly is at the door of the inn, scattering
food to the fowls.
" It's a peautiful moarning, Miss Douglas," she says.
And here is Mr. Murray, with his pipe, and his occultly
humorous air.
" And are you come along for your letters, Miss Meenie ? "
he says. " Ay, ay, it is not an unusual thing for a young
leddy to be anxious about a letter — it is not an unusual
thing at ahl."
And now the mail-car comes swinging up to the door ;
T
322 WHITE HEATHER
the one or two passengers alight, glad to stretch their legs ;
the letter bags are hauled down, and Miss Douglas follows
them indoors. Mrs. Murray, who acts as post-mistress, is
not long in sorting out the contents.
" Two for me ? " says Meenie. " And both from Glasgow ?
Well, now, that does not often hajDpen."
But of course she could not further interrupt the post-
mistress in the performance of her duties ; so she put the
letters in her pocket ; passed out from the inn and through
the little crowd of loiterers ; and made for the high-road
and for home. She was in no hurry to open these budgets
of news. Such things came but once in a while to this
remote hamlet ; and when they did come they were leisurely
and thoroughly perused — not skimmed and thrown aside.
Kevertheless when she got up to the high-road she thought
she would pause there for just a second, and run her eye
over the pages, lest there might be some mention of Ronald's
name. She had heard of him but little of late ; and he had
never once written to her — perhaps he had no excuse for
doing so. It was through Maggie that from time to time
she got news of him ; and now it was Maggie's letter that
she opened first.
Well, there was not much about Ronald. Maggie Avas
at school ; Ronald was busy ; he seldom came over to the
minister's house. And so Meenie, with a bit of a sigh, put
that letter into her pocket, and turned to the other. But
now she was indifferent and careless. It was not likely
that her sister had anything to say about Ronald ; for he
had not yet called at the house. Moreover, Mrs. Gemmill,
from two or three expressions she had used, did not seem
anxious to make his acquaintance.
And then the girl's breath caught, and she became
suddenly pale. " Drinldng himself to decdh, in the lowest oj
low company " — these were the words confronting her startled
eyes ; and the next instant she had darted a glance along
the road, and another back towards the inn, as if with a
sudden strange fear that some one had overseen. No,
she was all alone ; with the quickly closed letter in her
trembling hand ; her brain bewildered ; her heart beating ;
and with a kind of terror on her face. And then, rather
blindly, she turned and walked away in the other direction
A MESSAGE 323'
—not towards her own home ; and still held the letter
tightly clasped, as if she feared that some one might get at
this ghastly secret.
" Ronald ! — Ronald ! " — there was a cry of anguish in
her heart ; for this was all too sharp and sudden an end to
certain wistful dreams and fancies. These were the dreams
and fancies of long wakeful nights, when she would lie and
wonder what was the meaning of his farewell look towards
her ; and wonder if he could guess that his going away was
to change all her life for her ; and wonder Avhether, if all
things were to go well with him, he would come back and
claim her love — that was there awaiting him, and would
always await him, whether he ever came back or no. And
sometimes, indeed, the morning light brought a joyous
assurance with it ; she knew well why he had not ventured
to hand her that tell-tale message that he had actually
written out and addressed to her ; but in the glad future,
when he could come Avith greater confidence and declare
the truth — would she allow father or mother, or any one
else to interfere ? On these mornings the Mudal-Water
seemed to laugh as it Avent rippling by ; it had a friendly
sound ; she could hear it
Move the sioeet forget-me-nots
TJiat grow for happy lovers."
And at such times her favourite and secret reading was of
women who had been bold and generous with their love ;
and she feared she had been timid and had fallen in too
easily with her mother's schemes for her ; but now that she
understood herself better — now that her heart had revealed
itself plainly to her — surely, if ever that glad time were to
come — if ever she were to see him hasten along to the little
garden-gate — on the very first moment of his arrival — she
would not stint her welcome of him ? White, white were
the mornings on which such fancies filled her head ; and
the Mudal laughed along its clear brown shadows ; and
there was a kind of music in the moorland air.
" Drinlcing himself to death, ^'^^ ^^'■'^ lowest of low company : "
black night seemed to have fallen upon her, and a wild
bewilderment, and a crushing sense of hopelessness that
shut out for ever those fair visions of the future. She did
Y 2
324 WHITE HEATHER
not stay to ask whether this might not be a woman's ex^
aggeration or the mere gossip of a straitlaced set ; the blow
had fallen too suddenly to let her reason about it ; she only
knew that the very pride of her life, the secret hope of her
heart, had been in a moment extinguished. And Ronald —
Eonald that was ever the smartest and handsomest of them
all — the gayest and most audacious, the very king of all the
company whithersoever he went — was it this same Eonald
who had in so short a time become a bleared and besotted
drunkard, shunning the public ways, hiding in ignoble
haunts, with the basest of creatures for his only friends ?
And she — that had been so proud of him — that had been
so assured of his future, — nay, that had given him the love
of her life, and had sworn to herself that, whether he ever
came to claim it or no, no other man should take his place
in her heart — she it was who had become possessed of this
dreadful secret, while all the others were still imagining
that Ronald was as the Ronald of yore. She dared not go
back to Inver-Mudal — not yet, at least. She went away
along the highway ; and then left that for a path that led
alongside a small burn ; and by and by, when she came to
a place Avhere she was screened from all observation by
steep and wooded banks, she sat down there with some
kind of vague notion that she ought more carefully to read
this terrible news ; but presently she had flung herself, face
downward, on the heather, in an utter agony of grief, and
there she lay and sobbed and cried, with her head buried
in her hands. " Ronald ! Ronald ! " her heart seemed to
call aloud in its despair ; but how was any appeal to be
carried to him — away to Glasgow town ? And was this the
end ? Was he never coming back ? The proud young life
that promised so fair to be sucked under and whirled away
in a black current ; and as for her — for her the memory of
a few happy days spent on Mudal's banks, and years and
years of lonely thinking over what might have been.
A sharp whistle startled her ; and she sprang to her feet,
and hastily dried her eyes. A Gordon setter came ranging
through the strip of birch-wood, and then its companion ;
both dogs merely glanced at her — they were far too intent
on their immediate work to take further notice. And then
it quickly occurred to her that, if this were Lord Ailine
A MESSAGE 325
who was coming along, perhaps she might appeal to him
— she might beg of him to write to Ronald — or even to
go to Glasgow — for had not these two been companions
and friends ? And he was a man — he would knOw what
• to do — what could she do, a helpless girl ? Presently
Lord Ailine appeared, coming leisurely along the banks
of the little stream in company with a keeper and a
young lad ; and when he saw her, he raised his cap and
greeted her.
"Don't let us disturb you, Miss Douglas," said he.
" Gathering flowers for the dinner-table, I suppose ? "
" I hope I have done no harm," said she, though her
mind was so agitated that she scarcely knew what she said.
" I — I have not seen any birds — nor a hare either."
" Harm ? No, no," he said good-naturedly. " I hope
your mamma is quite well. There's a haunch of a roe-
buck at the lodge that Duncan can take along this after-
noon "
" Your lordship," said the keeper reprovingly, " there's
Bella drawing on to something."
" Good morning. Miss Douglas," he said quickly, and the
next moment he was off.
But even during that brief interview she had instinctively
arrived at the conclusion that it was not for her to spread
about this bruit in Inver-Mudal. She could not. This
news about Ronald to come from her lips — with perhaps
this or that keeper to carry it on to the inn and make it
the topic of general wonder there ? They would hear of
it soon enough. But no one — not even any one in her own
household — would be able to guess what it meant to her ;
as yet she herself could hardly realise it, except that all of
a sudden her life seemed to have grown dark.
She had to get back to the cottage in time for the mid-
day dinner, and she sate at table there, pale and silent, and
with a consciousness as of guilt weighing upon her. She
even did her best to eat something, in order to avoid their
remarks and looks ; but she failed in that, and was glad
to get away as soon as she could to the privacy of her
own room.
" I'm sure I don't know what's the matter with William-
ina," Mrs. Douglas said with a sigh. " She has not been
326 WHITE HEATHER
looking herself for many a day back ; and she seems going
from bad to worse — she ate hardly a scrap at dinner."
Of course it was for the Doctor to prescribe.
" She wants a change," he said.
"A change," the little dame retorted with some asperity,
for this was a sore subject with her. " She would have had
a change long before now, but for her and you together.
Three months ago I wanted her sent to Glasgow "
" Glasgow — for any one in indifferent health — ■" the big
bland Doctor managed to interpolate ; but she would not
listen.
" I'm sure I don't understand the girl. She has no
proper pride. Any other girl in her position would be
glad to have such chances, and eager to make use of them.
But no — she would sooner go looking after a lot of cottar's
children than set to work to qualify herself for taking her
proper place in society ; and what is the use of my talking
when you encourage her in her idleness ? "
" I like to have the girl at home," he said, rather
feebly.
" There," she said, producing a letter and opening it —
although he had heard the contents a dozen times before.
'• There it is — in black and white — a distinct invitation.
' Could you let Meehie come to us for a month or six weeks
when we go to Brighton in November ? ' "
" Well, said the good-natured Doctor, " that would be
a better kind of a change. Sea-air — sunlight — plenty of
society and amusement."
"She shall not go there, nor anywhere else, with my
cousin and his family, until she has fitted herself for taking
such a position," said the little woman peremptorily. " Sir
Alexander is good-nature itself, but I am not going to send
him a half-educated Highland girl that he would be ashamed
of. Why, the best families in England go to Brighton for
the winter — every one is there. It would be worse than
sending her to London. And what does this month or six
weeks mean ? — Surely it is plain enough. They want to
try her. They Avant to see what her accomplishments are.
They want to see whether they can take her abroad with
them, and present her at Paris and Florence and Rome.
Every year now Sir Alexander goes abroad at Christmas
A MESSAGE 327
time ; aud of course if she satisfied them she would be
asked to go also — aud there, think of that chance ! "
" The girl is well enough," said he.
She was on the point of retorting that, as far as he knew
anything about the matter, Williamiua was well enough.
But she spared him.
" No, she has no proper pride," the little Dresden-china
woman continued. "And just now, when everything is in
her favour. Agatha never had such chances. Agatha
never had Williamina's good looks. Of course, I say no-
thing against Mr. Gemmill — he is a highly respectable man
— and if the business is going on as they say it is going,
I don't sec why they should not leave Queen's Crescent
and take a larger house — up by the AVest End Park. And
he is an intelligent man, too ; the society they have is
clever and intellectual — you saw in Agatha's last letter
about the artists' party she had — why, their names are in
every newspaper — quite distinguished people, in that way
of life. And, at all events, it would be a beginning.
Williamina would learn something, Agatha is a perfect
musician — you can't deny that."
But here the big Doctor rebelled ; aud he brought the
weight of his professional authority to bear upon her.
" Now, look liere, Jane, when I said that the girl wanted
a change, I meant a change ; but not a change to singing-
lessons, and music-lessons, and German lessons, and Italian
lessons, and not a change to an atmosphere like that of
Glasgow. Bless my soul, do you think that kind of change
will bring back the colour to her cheek, and give her an
appetite, and put some kind of cheerfulness into her ?
Queen's Crescent ! She's not going to Queen's Crescent
with my will. Brighton, if you like."
" Brighton ? To get herself laughed at, and put in the
background, as a half-educated ignorant Highland peasant
girl ? So long as she is what she is, she shall not go to
Brighton with my will."
So here was an absolute dead-lock so far as Meenie's
future was concerned ; but she knew nothing of it ; aud
if she had known she would not have heeded much. It
was not of her own future she was thinking. And it seemed
so terrible to her to know that there was nothing she would
328 WHITE HE A THER
not have adventured to save this man from destruction,
and to know that she was incapable of doing anything at
all. If she could but see him for a moment — to make an
appeal to him ; if she could but take his hand in hers ;
would she not say that there had been timidity, doubt, mis-
apprehension in the past, but that now there was no time
for any of these ; sho had come to claim him and save him
and restore him to himself — no matter what he might think
of her ? Indeed she tried to put all thought of herself out
of the matter. She would allow no self-pride to interfere,
if only she could be of the smallest aid to him, if she
could stretch out her hand to him, and appeal to him, and
drag him back. But how 1 She seemed so helpless. And
yet her anxiety drove her to the consideration of a hundred
wild and impossible schemes, insomuch that she could
not rest in her own room, to which she had retreated for
safety and quiet. She put on her bonnet again and went
out — still with that guilty consciousness of a secret hanging
over her ; and she went down the road and over the bridge ;
and then away up the solitary valley thi'ough which the
Mudal flows. Alas ! there was no laughing over the brown
shallows now ; there was no thinking of
" the siceet forget-me-nots.
That grow for happy lovers ; "
all had become dark around her ; and the giant grasp of
Glasgow had taken him away from her, and dragged him
down, and blotted out for ever the visions of a not impos-
sible future with which she had been wont to beguile the
solitary hours. " Drinldng himself to death, in the loivest
of loiv company : " could this be Eonald, that but a few
months ago had been the gayest of any, with audacious
talk of what he was going to try for, with health and
happiness radiant in his eyes ? And it seemed to her that
her sister Agatha had been proud of writing these words,
and proud of the underhning of them, and that there was
a kind of vengeance in them ; and the girl's mouth was
shut hard ; and she was making vague and fierce resolu-
tions of showing to all of them — far and near — that she
was not ashamed of her regard for Eonald Strang, game-
keeper or no gamekeeper, if ever the chance should serve.
A MESSAGE 329
Ashamed ! He had been for her the very king of men —
in his generosity, his courage, his gentleness, his manliness,
his modesty, and his staunch and unfaltering fealty to his
friends. And was he to fall away from that ideal, and to
become a wi'eck, a waif, an outcast ; and she to stand by
and not stretch out a hand to save ?
But what could she do ? All the day she pondered ;
all the evening ; and through the long, silent, and wakeful
night. And when, at last, as the gray of the dawn
showed in the small window, she had selected one of these
hundred bewildered plans and schemes, it seemed a fantastic
thing that she was about to do. She would send him a
piece of white heather. He would know it came from her
— he would recognise the postmark, and also her hand-
writing. And if he took it as a message and an appeal, as
a token of good wishes and friendliness, and the hope of
better fortune ? Or if — and here she fell a-trembling, for
it was a little cold in these early hours — if ho should take it
as a confession, as an unmaidenly declaration ? Oh, she
did not care. It was all she could think of doing ; and do
something she must. And she remembered with a timid
and nervous joy her own acknowledged influence over him
— had not Maggie talked of it a thousand times ? — and if
he were to recognise this message in its true light, what
then ? " Ronald ! Ronald ! " her heart was still calling,
with something of a tremulous hope amid all its grief and
pity.
She was out and abroad over the moorland long before
any one was astir, and searching with an anxious diligence,
and as yet without success. White heather is not so
frequently met with in the North as in the West High-
lands ; and yet in Sutherlandshire it is not an absolute
rarity ; many a time had she come across a little tuft of it
in her wanderings over the moors. But now, search as she
might, she could not find the smallest bit ; and time began
to press ; for this was the morning for the mail to go south
— if she missed it, she would have to wait two more days.
And as half-hour after half-hour went by, she became more
anxious and nervous and agitated ; she went rapidly from
knoll to knoll, seeking the likeliest places ; and all in vain.
It was a question of minutes now. She could hear the
330 WHITE HEATHER
mail-cart on the road behind her ; soon it would pass her
and go on to the inn, where it would remain but a brief
while before setting out again for Lairg. And presently,
when the mail-cart did come along and go by, then she
gave up the quest in despair ; and in a kind of bewildered
way set out for home. Her heart was heavy and full of its
disappointment ; and her face was paler a little than usual ;
but at least her eyes told no tales.
And then, all of a sudden, as she was crossing the Mudal
bridge, she caught sight of a little tuft of gray away along
the bank and not far from the edge of the stream. At first
she thought it was merely a patch of withered heather ; and
then a wild hope possessed her ; she quickly left the bridge
and made her way towards it ; and the next moment she
was joyfully down on her knees, selecting the whitest spray
she could find. And the mail-cart ? — it would still be at
the inn — the inn was little more than half a mile off — ■
could she run hard and intercept them after all, and send
her white-dove message away to the south .? To think of
it was to try it, at all events ; and she ran as no town-bred
girl ever ran in her life — past the Doctor's cottage, along
the wide and empty road, past the keeper's house and the
kennels, across the bridge that spans the little burn. Alas !
there was the mail-cart already on its way.
" Johnnie, Johnnie ! " she called.
Happily the wind was blowing towards him ; he heard,
looked back, and pulled up his horses.
" Wait a minute — I have a letter for you to take ! " she
called, though her strength was all gone now.
And yet she managed to get quickly down to the in)i,
and astonished Mrs. Murray by breathlessly begging for an
envelope.
" Tell Nelly — tell Nelly," she said, while her trembling
fingers Avrote the address, ''to come and take this to the
mail-cart — they're waiting — Johnnie will post it at
Lairg."
And then, when she had finished the tremulous address,
and carefully dried it with the blotting-paper, and given the
little package to Nelly, and bade her run — quick, quick — ■
to hand it to the driver, then the girl sank back in the
chair and began laughing in a strange, half -hysterical way,
IN GLASGOW TOWN 331
and then that became a burst of crying, with her face
hidden in her liands. But the good-hearted Mrs. Murray
was there ; and her arms were round the girl's neck ; and
she was saying, in her gentle Highland way —
" Well, well, now, to think you should hef had such a run
to catch the mail-cart — and no wonder you are dead-beat
— ay, ay, and you not looking so well of late, Miss Meenie.
But you will just rest here a while ; and Nelly will get you
some tea ; and there is no need for you to go back home
until you have come to yourself better. No, you hef not
been looking well lately ; and you must not tire yourself
like this— dear me, the place Avould be quite different
ahltog ether if anything was to make you ill."
CHAPTEK XXXIY.
IN GLASGOW TOWN.
It was as late as half-past ten o'clock — and on a sufficiently
gray and dull and cheerless morning — that Ronald's land-
lady, surprised not to have heard him stirring, knocked at
his room. There was no answer. Then she knocked
again, opened the door an inch or two, and dropped a letter
on the floor.
" Are ye no up yet ? "
The sound of her voice aroused him.
" In a minute, woman," he said sleepily ; and, being thus
satisfied, the landlady went off, shutting the door behind
her.
He rose in the bed and looked around him, in a dazed
fashion. He was already partially dressed, for he had been
up two hours before, but had thrown himself down on the
bed again, over-fatigued, half -stupefied, and altogether dis-
contented. The fact is, he had come home the night
before in a reckless mood, and had sate on through hour
after hour until it was nearly dawn, harassing himself with
idle dreams and idle regrets, drinking to drown care,
smoking incessantly, sometimes scrawling half-scornful
rhymes. There were all the evidences now on the table
before him — a whisky-bottle, a tumbler, a wooden pipe and
plenty of ashes, a sheet of paper scrawled over in an un-
332 WHITE HE A THER
certain hand. He took up that sheet to recall what he had
written :
Kincj Death came striding along the road,
And he laughed aloud to see
How every rich man's mother's son
Would taJce to his heels and flee.
Dulce, lord, or merchant, off they slapped,
WJienever that he drew near;
And they dropped their guineas as loild they ran.
And their faces icere tchite icith fear.
But the poor folic labouring in the fields
Watched him as he passed by ;
And they took to their spades and mattochs again,
And turned to their work ivith a sigh.
Then farther along the road he saw
An old man sitting alone ;
His head lay heavy upon his hands,
And sorrowful was his moan.
Old age had shrivelled and bent his frame;
Age and hard ivorh together
Had scattered Ms lochs, and bleared his eyes —
Age and the lointer weatlier.
" Old man," said Death, " do you tremble to hnoio
That now ydu are near the erid?"
The old man looked : " You are Death," said he,
" And at last I've found a friend."
It was a strange kind of mood for a young fellow to
have fallen into ; but he did not seem to think so. As he
contemplated the scrawled lines — with rather an absent
and preoccupied air — this was what he was saying to
himself —
" If the old gentleman would only come striding along
the Port Dundas Road, I know one that would be glad
enough to go out and meet him and shake hands with him,
this very minute."
He went to the window and threw it open, and sate
down : the outer air would be pleasanter than this inner
atmosphere, impregnated with the fumes of whisky and
tobacco ; and his head was burning, and his pulses heavy.
But the dreariness of this outlook ! — the gray pavements,
the gray railway station, the gray sheds, the gray skies ; and
IN GLASGOW TOWN 333
evermore the dull slumberous sound of the great city already
plunged in its multitudinous daily toil. Then he began to
recall the events of the preceding evening ; and had not
Mrs. Menzies promised to call for him, about eleven, to
drive him out to see some of her acquaintances at Miln-
gavie ? Well, it would be something to do ; it would be
a relief to get into the fresher air — to get away from this
hopeless and melancholy neighbourhood. Kate Menzies
had high spirits ; she could laugh away remorse and
discontent and depression ; she could make the hours
go by somehow. And now, as it was almost eleven, he
would finish his dressing and be ready to set out when
she called ; as for breakfast, no thought of that entered his
mind.
Then he chanced to see something white lying on the
floor — an envelope — perhaps this was a note from Kate,
saying she was too busy that morning and could not come
for him ? He Avent and took up the letter ; and instantly
—as he regarded the address on it — a kind of bewilder-
ment, almost of fear, appeared on his face. For well he
knew Meenie's handwriting : had he not pondered over
every characteristic of it — the precise small neatness of it,
the long loops of the Ts, the German look of the capital K ?
And why should J\Ieenie WTite to him ?
He opened the envelope and took out the bit of white
heather that Meenie had so hastily despatched : there was
no message, not the smallest scrap of writing. But was not
this a message — and full of import, too ; for surely Meenie
would not have adopted this means of communicating with
him at the mere instigation of an idle fancy 1 And why
should she have sent it — and at this moment ? Had she
heard, then ? Had any gossip about him reached Inver-
Mudal ? And how much had she heard ? There was a
kind of terror in his heart as he went slowly back to the
window, and sate down there, still staring absently at this
token that had been sent him, and trying hard to make out
the meaning of it. What was in Meenie's mind ? What
was her intention ? Not merely to give him a sprig of
white heather with wishes for good luck ; there was more
than that, as he easily guessed ; but how much more ?
And at first there was little of joy or gladness or gratitude
334 ivniTE HEA THER
in his thinking ; there was rather fear, and a wondering* as
to what Meenie had heard of him, and a sickening sense of
shame. The white gentleness of the message did not strike
him ; it was rather a reproach — a recaUing of other days — ■
Meenie's eyes were regarding him with proud indignation —
this was all she had to say to him now.
'■ A man's voice was heard outside ; the door was brusquely
opened ; Jimmy Laidlaw appeared.
" What, man, no ready yet ? Ai'e ye just out o' your
bed ? Where's your breakfast ? Dimia ye ken it's eleven
o'clock ? " '
Ronald regarded him with no friendly eye. He wished
to be alone ; there was much to think of ; there was more
in his mind than the prospect of a rattling, devil-may-care
drive out to Milngavie.
" Is Kate below ? " said he.
" She is that. Look sharp, man, and get on your coat.
She doesna like to keep the cob standing."
" Look here, Laidlaw," Ronald said, " I wish ye would
do me a good turn. Tell her that — that I'll be obliged if
she will excuse me ; I'm no up to the mark ; ye'll have a
merrier time of it if ye go by yourselves ; there now, like a
good fellow, make it straight wi' her."
" Do ye want her to jump doon ma throat ? " retorted
Mr. Laidlaw, with a laugh. " I'll tak' no sic message.
Come, come, man, pull yoursel' thegither. What's the
matter ? Hammer and tongs in your head ? — the fresh
air'll drive that away. Come along 1 "
" The last word's the shortest," Ronald said stubbornly.
"I'm not going. Tell her not to take it ill — I'm — I'm
obliged to her, tell her "
" Indeed, I'll leave you and her to fight it out between
ye," said Laidlaw. " D'ye think I want the woman to snap
my head off ? "
He left, and Ronald fondly hoped that they would drive
away and leave him to himself. But presently there was a
light tapping at the door.
" Ronald ! "
He recognised the voice, and he managed to throw a
coat over his shoulders — just as Kate Menzies, without
further ceremony, made her appearance.
IN GLASGOW TOWN 335
" What's this now ? " exclaimed the buxom widow — who
was as radiant and good-natured and smartly dressed as
ever — " what does this daft fellow Laidlaw mean by bringing
me a message like that ? I ken ye better, Eonald, my lad.
Down in the mouth ? — take a hair 0' the dog that bit ye.
Here, see, I'll pour it out for ye."
She went straight to the bottle, uncorked it, and poured
out about a third of a tumblerful of whisky.
" Ronald, Eonald, ye're an ill lad to want this in the
morning ; but what must be, must ; here, put some life
into ye. The day'U be just splendid outside the town ;
and old Jaaps with us too ; and I've got a hamper ; and
somewhere or other we'll camp out, like a band of gypsies.
Dinna fear, lad ; I'll n-o drag ye into the MacDougals'
house until we're on the way back ; and then it'll just be
, a cup o' tea and a look at the bairns, and on we drive again
to the town. What's the matter ? Come on, my lad ! —
we'll have a try at ' Cauld Kail in Aberdeen ' when we get
away frae the houses."
*' Katie, lass," said he, rather shamefacedly, " I'm — I'm
sorry that I promised — -but I'll take it kind of ye to excuse
me — I'm no in the humour someway — and ye'li be better
by yourselves- "
" Ay, and what good'll ye do by pu'ing a wry mouth ? "
said she tauntingly. " ' The devil was ill, the devil a saint
would be.' Here, man ! it's no the best medicine, but it's
better than none."
She took the whisky to him, and gave him a hearty slap
on the shoulder. There was a gleam of sullen fire in his
eye.
" It's ill done of ye, woman, to drive a man against his
will," he said, and he retreated from her a step or two.
" Oh," said she, proudly, and she threw the whisky into
the coal-scuttle, and slammed the tumbler down on the
table, for she had a temper too, " if ye'll no be coaxed,
there's them that will If that's what Long John does for
your temper, I'd advise you to change and try Talisker.
Good morning to ye, my braw lad, and thank ye for your
courtesy."
She stalked from the room, and banged the door behind
her when she left. But she was really a good-hearted kind
336 WHITE HE A THEk
of creature ; before she had reached the outer door she
had recovered herself ; and she turned and came into the
room again, a single step or so.
" Ronald," she said, in quite a different voice, " it'll no
he for your good to quarrel wi' me-
" I wish for no quarrel wi' ye, Katie womau-
" For I look better after ye than some o' them. If ye'll
no come for the drive, will ye look in in the afternoon or
at night, if it suits ye better ? Seven o'clock, say — ^to show
that there's no ill feeling between us."
" Yes, I will," said he — mainly to get rid of her ; for,
indeed, he could scarcely hear what she was saying to him
for thinking of this strange and mysterious message that
had come to him from Meenie.
And then, when she had gone, he rapidly washed and
dressed, and went away out from the house — out by the
Cowcaddens, and Shamrock Street, and West Prince's
Street, and over the Kelvin, and up to Hillhead, to certain
solitary thoroughfares he had discovered in his devious
wanderings ; and all the time he was busy with various
interpretations of this message from Meenie and of her
reasons for sending it. At first, as has been said, there
was nothing for him but shame and self-abasement ; this
was a reproach ; she had heard of the condition into which
he had fallen ; this was to remind him of what had been.
And indeed, it was now for the first time that he began to
be conscious of what that condition was. He had fled to
those boon-companions as a kind of refuge from the hope-
lessness of the weary hours, from the despair with regard to
the future that had settled down over his life. He had
laughed, drunk, smoked, and sung the time away, glad to
forget. AYhen haunting memories came to rebuke, then
there was a call for another glass, another song. Nay, he
could even make apologies to himself when the immediate
excitement was over. Why should he do otherwise '^. The
dreams conjured up by the Americans had no more charms
for him. Why should he work towards some future that
had no interest for him ?
Death is the end of life; ah, lohy
Should life all labour be ?
IN GLASGOW TOWN 337
Aud so Kate Meiizies's dog-cart became a pleasant tiling, as
it rattled along the hard stony roads ; and many a merry
glass they had at the wayside inns ; and then home again
in the evening to supper, and singing, and a good-night
bacchanalian festival at the Harmony Club. The hours
passed ; he did not wish to think of what his life had
become ; enough if, for the time being, he could banish
the horrors of the aching head, the hot pulse, the trembling
hands.
But if Mecnie had heard of all this, how would it appear
to her ? and he made no doubt that she had heard. It
was some powerful motive that had prompted her to do this
thing. He knew that her sister had beqn making inquiries
about him ; his brother's congregation was a hot-bed of
gossip ; if any news of him had been sent by that agency,
no doubt it was the worst. And still Meenie did not turn
away from him with a shudder ? He took out the envelope
again. What could she mean ? Might he dare to think it
was this — that, no matter what had happened, or what she
had heard, she still had some little faith in him, that the
recollection of their old friendship was not all gone away ?
Eeproach it might be — but perhaps also an appeal ?
And if Meenie had still some interest in what happened to
him ?
He would go no farther than that. It was characteristic
of the man that, even with this white token of goodwill and
remembrance and good wishes before his eyes — with this
unusual message just sent to him from one who was
genei'ally so shy and reserved — he permitted to himself no
wildly daring fancies or bewildering hopes. ISTor had the
majesty of the Stuarts of Glengask and Orosay anything to
do with this restraint : it was the respect that he paid to
Meenie herself. And yet — and yet this was a friendly
token ; it seemed to make the day whiter somehow ; it was
with no ill-will she had been thinking of him when she
gathered it from one of the knolls at the foot of Clebrig or
from the banks of Mudal-Water. So white and fresh it
was ; it spoke of clear skies and sweet moorland winds ;
aud there seemed to be the soft touch of her fingers still
on it as she had pressed it into the envelope ; and it was
Meenie's own small white hand that had written that
338 WHITE HEATHER
rather trembling " Mr. Bonald Strang.''^ A gentle message ;
he grew to think that there was less of reproach in it ; if
she had heard evil tidings of him, perhaps she was sorry
more than anything else ; Meenie's eyes might have sorrow
in them and pain, but anger — never. And her heart —
well, sm'ely her heart could not have been set bitterly against
him, or she would not have sent him this mute little token
of remembrance, as if to recall the olden days.
And then he rose and drove against the bars that caged
him in. Why should the ghastly farce be played any
longer ? Why should he go through that dull mechanical
routine in which he had no interest whatever ? Let others
make what money they choose ; let others push forward to
any future that they might think desirable ; let them aim
at being first in the world's fight for wealth, and having
saloon-carriages, and steam-yachts on Lake Michigan, and
cat-boats on Lake George : but as for him, if Lord Aihne,
now, would only let him go back to the little hamlet in the
northern wilds, and give him charge of the dogs again, and
freedom to ask Dr. Douglas to go with him for a turn at
the mountain hares or for a day's salmon-fishing on the
Mudal- — in short, if only he could get back to his old life
again, with fair skies over him, and fresh blowing winds
around him, and wholesome blood running cheerily through
his veins ? And then the chance, at some hour or other of
the long day, of meeting Meenie, and finding the beautiful,
timid, Highland eyes fixed on his : " Are you going along
to the inn, Ronald ? " he could almost hear her say. " And
will you be so kind as to take these letters for me ? "
But contracted habits are not so easily shaken off as all
that ; and he was sick and ill at ease ; and when the hour
came for him to go down and see Kate Menzies and her
friends, perhaps he was not altogether sorry that he had
made a definite promise which he was bound to keep.
He left the envelope, with its piece of white heather, at
home.
Nevertheless, he was rather dull, they thought ; and
there was some facetious raillery over his not having yet re-
covered from the frolic of the previous night ; with frequent
invitations to take a hair of the dog that had bitten him;
Kate was the kindest ; she had been a little alarmed by the
A RESOLVE 339
definite repugnance he had shown in the morning ; she was
glad to be friends with him again. As for him — well, he
was as good-natm'ed as ever ; but rather absent in manner ;
for sometimes, amid all their boisterous camaraderie, he
absolutely forgot what they were saying ; and in a kind of
dream he seemed to see before him the sunlit Strath-
Terry, and the blue waters of the loch, and Mudal's stream
winding through the solitary moorland waste — and a
young girl there stooping to pick up something from the
heather.
CHAPTER XXXV.
A EESOLVE.
The days passed ; no answer came to that mute message
of hers ; nay, how could she expect any answer ? But
these were terrible days to her — of mental torture, and
heart-searching, and unceasing and unsatisfied longing, and
yearning, and pity. And then out of all this confusion of
thinking and suffering there gradually grew up a clear and
definite resolve. "What if she were to make of that bit of
white heather but an avant-courrier ? What if she were
herself to go to Glasgow, and seek him out, and confront
him, and take him by the hand ? She had not overrated
her old influence with him : well she knew that. And how
could she stand by idle and allow him to perish ? The
token she had sent hira must have told him of her thinking
of him ; he would be prepared ; perhaps he would even
guess that she had come to Glasgow for his sake ? Well,
she did not mind that much ; Ronald would have gentle
thoughts of her, whatever happened ; and this need was
far too sore and pressing to permit of timid and sensitive
hesitations.
One morning she went to her father's room and tapped
at the door.
" Come in ! "
She was rather pale as she entered.
" Father," she said, " I would like to 2:0 to Glasgow for a
while."
Her father turned in his chair and regarded her.
z 2
340 WHITE HEATHER
" What's the matter with ye, my girl ? " he said, " You've
not been looking yourself at all for some time back, and
these last few days you've practically eaten nothing. And
yet your mother declares there's nothing the matter.
Glasgow ? I dare say a change would do you good —
cheer you up a bit, and that ; but — Glasgow 1 More
schooling, more fees, that Avould he the chief result, I
imagine ; and that's what your mother's driving at. I
think it's nonsense : you're a grown woman ; you've
learned everything that will ever be of any use to you."
" I ought to have, any way, by this time," Meenie said
simply, " And indeed it is not for that, father. I — I should
like to go to Glasgow for a while."
"There's Lady Stuart would have ye stay with them at
Brighton for a few weeks ; but your mother seems to think
you should go amongst them as a kind of Mezzofanti — it's
precious little of that there's about Sir Alexander, as I know
well. However, if you're not to go to them until you are
polished out of all human shape and likeness, I suppose I
must say nothing "
" But I would rather go and stay with Agatha, father,"
the girl said.
He looked at her again.
" Well," said he, " I do think something must be done.
It would be a fine thing for you — you of all creatures in
the world — to sink into a hopeless antemic condition.
Lassie, where's that eldritch laugh o' yours gone to ? And
I see you go dawdling along the road — you that could beat
a young roedeer if you were to try. Glasgow ? — well, I'll
see what your mother says."
" Thank you, father," she said, but she did not leave at
once. " I think I heard you say that Mr. Blair was going
south on Monday," she timidly suggested.
This Mr. Blair was a U.P. minister from Glasgow, who
was taking a well-earned holiday up at Tongue — fishing in
the various lochs in that neighbourhood — and who was
known to the Douglases.
" You're in a deuce of a hurry. Miss," her father said,
but good-naturedly enough. " You mean you could go to
Glasgow under his escort ? "
"Yes."
A RESOLVE 341
"Well, I will see what your mother says — I suppose
she will be for making a fuss over the necessary
preparations."
But this promise and half permission had instantly
brought to the girl a kind of frail and wandering joy and
hope ; and there was a brief smile on her face as she
said —
" Well, you know, father, if I have to get any things I
ought to get them in Glasgow. The preparations at
Inver-Mudal can't take much time."
" I will see what your mother thinks about it," said the
big, good-humoured Doctor, who was cautious about
assenting to anything until the ruler and lawgiver of the
house had been consulted.
The time was short, but the chance of sending Meenie
to Glasgow under charge of the Rev. Mr. Blair was oppor-
tune ; and Mrs. Douglas had no scruple about making use
of this temporary concern on the part of her husband
about Meenie's health for the working out of her own ends.
Of course the girl was only going away to be brightened up
by a little society. The change of air might possibly do
her good. There could be no doubt she had been looking
ill ; and in her sister's house she would have every atten-
tion paid her, quite as much as if she were in her own
home. All the same, Mrs. Douglas was resolved that this
opportunity for linally fitting Meenie for that sphere in
which she hoped to see her move should not be lost.
Agatha should have private instructions. And Agatha
herself was a skilled musician. Moreover, some little
society — of a kind — met at ]\Ir. GemmiU's house ; the time
would not be entirely lost, even if a little economy in the
matter of fees was practised, in deference to the prejudices
and dense obtuseness of one who ought to have seen more
clearly his duty in this matter — that is to say, of Meenie's
father.
And so it was that, when the Monday morning came
round, Meenie had said good-bye to every one she knew,
and was ready to set out for the south. Not that she
was going by the mail. Oh no, Mr. Murray would not
hear of that, nor yet of her being sent in her father's
little trap. No ; Mr. Murray placed his own large wag-
342 WHITE HEATHER
gonette and a pair of horses at her disposal ; and when
the mail-cart came along from Tongue, Mr. Blair's luggage
Avas quickly transferred to the more stately vehicle, and
immediately they started. She did not look like a girl
going away for a holiday. She was pale rather, and silent ;
and Mr. Blair, who had memories of her as a bright,
merry, clear-eyed lass, could not understand why she
should be apparently so cast down at the thought of leav-
ing her father's home for a mere month or so. As for old
John Murray, he went into the inn, grumbling and dis-
contented.
" It is a strange thing," he said, — for he was grieved and
offended at their sending Meenie away, and he knew that
Inver-Mudal would be a quite different place with her not
there, — " a strange thing indeed to send a young girl away
to Glasgow to get back the roses into her cheeks. Ay,
will she get them there ? A strange thing indeed. And
her father a doctor too. It is just a teffle of a piece of
nonsense."
The worthy minister, on the other hand, was quite
delighted to have so pretty a travelling companion with
him on that long journey to the south ; and he looked
after her with the most anxious paternal solicitude, and
from time to time he would try to cheer her with the
recital of ancient Highland anecdotes that he had picked
up during his fishing excursions. But he could see that
the girl was preoccupied ; her eyes were absent and her
manner distraught ; sometimes her colour came and went
in a curious way, as if some sudden fancy had sent a
tremor to her heart. Then, as they drew near to the
great city — it was a pallid-clear morning, with some faint
suggestions of blue overhead that gave the wan landscape
an almost cheerful look — she was obviously suffering from
nervous excitement ; her answers to him Avere inconsequent,
though she tried her bravest to keep up the conversation.
The good man thought he would not bother her. No
doubt it would be a great change — from the quiet of Inver-
Mudal to the roar and bustle of the vast city ; and no
doubt the mere sight of hundreds and hundreds of strangers
would in itself be bewildering. Meenie, as he under-
stood, had been in Glasgow before, but it was some years
A RESOLVE 343
ago, and she had not had a long experience of it ; in any
case, she would naturally be restless and nervous in
looking forward to such a complete change in her way of
life.
As they slowed into the station, moreover, he could
not help observing how anxiously and eagerly she kept
glancing from stranger to stranger, as they passed them on
the platform.
" There will be somebody waiting for you, Miss Meenie ? "
he said at a venture.
" No, no," she answered, somewhat hurriedly and shame-
facedly as he thought — and the good minister was puzzled ;
" Agatha wrote that Mr. Gemmill would be at the ware-
house, and — and she would be busy in the house on a
Monday morning, and I was just to take a cab and come
on to Queen's Crescent. Oh ! I shall manage all right,"
she added, with some bravado.
And yet, when they had seen to their luggage, and got
along to the platform outside the station, she seemed too
bewildered to heed what was going on. Mr. Blair called
a cab and got her boxes put on the top ; but she was
standing there by herself, looking up and down, and
regarding the windows of the houses opposite in a kind of
furtive and half-frightened way.
" This is Port Dundas Eoad ? " she said to the minister
(for had not Maggie, in her voluminous communications
about Ronald, described the exact locality of his lodging,
and the appearance of the station from his room ?)
" It is."
She hesitated for a second or two longer ; and then,
recalling herself with an effort, she thanked the minister
for all his kindness, and bade him good-bye, and got into
the cab. Of course she kept both windows down, so that
she could command a view of both sides of the thorough-
fares as the man drove her away along the Cowcaddeus
and the New City Road. But alas ! how was she ever to
find Ronald — by accident, as she had hoped — in that con-
tinuous crowd ? She had pictured to herself her suddenly
meeting him face to face ; and she would read in his eyes
how much he remembered of Inver-Mudal and the olden
days. But among this multitude, how was such a thing
344 WHITE HEATHER
possible ? And then it was so necessary that this meeting
should be observed by no third person.
However, these anxious doubts and fears were forcibly
driven from her head by her arrival at Queen's Crescent,
and the necessity of meeting the emergencies of the
moment. She had but a half recollection of this secluded
little nook, with its semicircle of plain, neat, well-kept
houses, looking so entirely quiet and respectable ; and its
pretty little garden, with its grass-plots, and its flower-
plots, and its trim walks and fountain — all so nice and neat
and trim, and at this minute looking quite cheerful in the
palhd sunshine. And here, awaiting her at the just opened
door, was her sister Agatha — a sonsy, sufficiently good-
looking young matron, who had inherited her buxom
proportions from her father, bat had got her Highland
eyes, which were like Meenie's, from her mother. And
also there were a smaller Agatha — a self-important little
maiden of ten — and two younger children ; and as the
advent of this pretty young aunt from Sutherlandshire was
of great interest to them, there was a babble of inquiries
and answers as they escorted her into the house.
"And such a surprise to hear you were coming," her
sister was saying. " We little expected it — but ye're none
the less welcome — and Walter's just quite set up about it.
Ay, and ye're not looking so well, my father says ? — let's
see."
She took her by the shoulders and wheeled her to the
light. But, of course, the girl was flushed with the excite-
ment of her arrival, and pleased with the attentions of the
little people, so that for the moment the expression of her
face was bright enough.
" There's not much wrong," said the sister, " but I dou't
wonder at your being dull in yon dreadful hole. And I
suppose there's no chance of moving now. If my father
had only kept to Edinburgh or Glasgow, and got on like
anybody else, we might all have been together, and among
friends and acquaintances ; but it was aye the same — give
him the chance of a place where there was a gun or a
fishing-rod handy, and that was enough. Well, well,
Meenie, we must wake ye up a bit if you've been feeling
dull ; and Walter — he's as proud as a peacock that you're
A RESOLVE 345
come ; I declare it's enough to make any other woman
than myself jealous, the way he shows your portrait to any-
body and everybody that comes to the house ; and I had
a hint from him this morning that any bit things ye might
need — mother's letter only came on Saturday — that they
were to be a present from him, and there's nothing stingy
about Wat, though I say it who shouldn't. And you'll
have to share Aggie's bed for a night or two until we have
a room got ready for you."
"If I had only known that I was going to put you
about, Agatha "
" Put us about, you daft lassie ! " the elder sister ex-
claimed. " Come away, and I'll show you where your
things will have to be stored for the present. And my
father says there are to be no finishing lessons, or anything
of that kind, for a while yet ; you're to walk about and
amuse yourself ; and we've a family-ticket for the Botanic
Gardens — you can take a book there or some knitting ;
and then you'll have to help me in the house, for Walter
will be for showing you off as his Highland sister-in-law,
and we'll have plenty of company."
And so the good woman rattled on ; and how abundantly
and secretly glad was Meenie that not a word was said of
Ronald Strang ! She had felt guilty enough when she
entered the house ; she had come on a secret errand that
she dared not disclose ; and one or two things in her sister's
letters had convinced her that there were not likely to be
very friendly feelings towards Ronald in this little domestic
circle. But when they had gone over almost every con-
ceivable topic, and not a single question had been asked
about Ronald, nor any reference even made to him, she
felt immensely relieved. To them, then, he was clearly of
no importance. Probably they had forgotten that she had
once or twice asked if he had called on them. Or perhaps
her sister had taken it for granted that the piece of news
she had sent concerning him would effectually and for ever
crush any interest in him that Meenie may have felt.
Anyhow, his name was not even mentioned ; and that was
so far well.
But what a strange sensation was this — when in the
afternoon she went out for a stroll with the smaller Agatha
34^ WHITE HEATHER
— to feel that at any moment, at the turning of any corner,
she might suddenly encounter Ronald. That ever-moving
crowd had the profoundest interest for her ; these rather
grimy streets a continuous and mysterious fascination. Of
course the little Agatha, when they went forth from the
house, was for going up to the West End Park or out by
Billhead to the Botanic Gardens, so that the pretty young
aunt should have a view of the beauties of Glasgow. But
Meenie had no difficulty in explaining that green slopes and
trees and things of that kind had no novelty for her,
whereas crowded streets and shops and the roar of cabs and
carriages had ; and so they turned city-wards when they
left the house, and went away in by Cambridge Street and
Sauchiehall Street to Buchanan Street. And was this the
way, then, she asked herself (and she was rather an absent
companion for her little niece), that Eonald would take on
leaving his lodgings to get over to the south side of the
city, where, as she understood from his sister's letters, lived
the old forester who was superintending his studies ? But
there were so many people here ! — and all seemingly
strangers to each other ; scarcely any two or three of them
stopping to have a chat together ; and all of them
apparently in such a. hurry. Argyll Street was even worse ;
indeed, she recoiled from that tumultuous thoroughfare ;
and the two of them turned north again. The lamplighter
was beginning his rounds ; here and there an orange star
gleamed in the pallid atmosphere ; here and there a shop
window glowed yellow. When they got back to Queen's
Crescent they found that Mr. Gemmill had returned ; it
was his tea-time ; and there was a talk of the theatre for
the older folk.
Well, she did not despair yet. For one thing, she had
not been anxious to meet Ronald during that first plunge
into the great city, for Agatha was with her. But that was
merely because the little girl had obtained a holiday in
honour of her aunt's coming ; thereafter she went to school
every morning ; moreover, the household happened to be a
maidservant short, and Mrs. Gemmill was busy, so that
Meenie was left to do pretty much as she liked, and to go
about alone. And her walks did not take her much to the
Botanic Gardens, nor yet to the West End Park and Kelvin
A RESOLVE ^ 347
Grove ; far rather she preferred to go errands for her sister,
and often these would take her in by Sauchiehall Street and
the top of Buchanan Street ; and always her eyes were
anxious and yet timorous, seeking and yet half -fearing to
find. But where was Eonald ? She tried different hours.
She grew to know every possible approach to that lodging
in the Port Dundas Road. And she had schooled herself
now so that she could search long thoroughfares with a
glance that was apparently careless enough ; and she had so
often pictured to herself their meeting, that she knew she
would not exhibit too great a surprise nor make too open a
confession of her joy.
And at last her patient waiting was rewarded. It was
in Eenfield Street that she suddenly caught sight of him — ■
a long way off he was, but coming towards her, and all
unconscious of her being there. For a moment her school-
ing of herself gave way somewhat ; for her heart was
beating so wildly as almost to choke her ; and she went on
with her eyes fixed on the ground, wondering what she
should say, wondering if he would find her face grown
paler than it used to be, wondering what he would think of
her having sent him the bit of white heather. And then
she forced herself to raise her eyes ; and it was at the very
same instant that he caught sight of her — though he was
yet some distance off — and for the briefest moment she saw
his strange and startled look. But what was this .? Perhaps
he fancied she had not seen him ; perhaps he had reasons
for not wishing to be seen ; at all events, after that one
swift recognition of her, he had suddenly slunk away — •
down some lane or other — and when she went forward, in
rather a blind and bewildered fashion, behold ! there was
no Ronald there at all. She looked around — with a heart
as if turned to stone — but there was no trace of him. And
then she went on, rather proudly — or perhaps, rather, trying
to feel proud and hurt ; but there was a gathering mist
coming into her eyes ; and she scarcely knew — nor cared —
whither she was walking.
343 WHITE HEATHER
' CHAPTER XXXYI.
A BOLDER STEP.
As for him, he shmk aside hurriedly and all abashed and
dismayed. He did not pause until he was safe away from
any pursuit ; and there was a lowering expression on his
face, and his hand shook a little. He could only hope
that she had not seen him. Instantly he had seen her, he
knew that he dared not meet the beautiful clear eyes, that
would regard him, and perhaps mutely ask questions of him,
even if there was no indignant reproach in them. For
during these past few days he had gradually been becoming
conscious of the squalor and degradation into which he had
sunk ; and sometimes he would strive to raise himself out
of that ; and sometimes he would sink back despairing,
careless of what might become of him or his poor affairs.
But always there Avas there in his room that mystic white
token that Meenie had sent him ; and at least it kept him
thinking — his conscience was not allowed to slumber ; and
sometimes it became so strong an appeal to him — that is
to say, he read into the message such wild and daring and
fantastic possibihties— that he would once more resume that
terrible struggle with the iron bands of habit that bound him.
" What is the matter wi' Eonald ? " Kate Menzies asked
of her cronies. " He hasna been near the house these three
or four days."
" I'm thinking he's trying to earn the Blue Ribbon," said
old Mr. Jaap.
"And no thriving weel on't, poor lad," said Jimmy
Laidlaw. " Down in the mouth's no the word. He's just
like the ghost o' himsel'."
" I tell ye what, ^Mistress," said the big skipper, who
was contemplating with much satisfaction a large beaker of
hot rum and water, " the best thing you could do would be
just to take the lad in hand, and marry him right off. He
would have somebody to look after him, and so would you ;
as handsome a couple as ever stepped along Jamaica Street,
I'll take my oath."
The buxom widow laughed and blushed ; but she was
bound to protest.
A BOLDER STEP 349
"Na, na, Captain, I ken better than that. I'm no
going to throw away a business like this on any man. I'll
bide my ain mistress for a while longer, if ye please,"
And then mother Paterson — who had a handy gift of
facile acquiescence— struck in — ■
" That's right, Katie dear ! Ye're sich a wise woman.
To think ye'd throw away a splendid place like this, and a
splendid business, on any man, and make him maister !
And how long would it be before he ate and drank ye out o'
house and ha' ? — set him up with a handsome wife and a
splendid business thrown at his heed, and scarcely for the
asking ! Na, na, Katie, woman, ye ken your own affairs
better than that ; ye're no for any one to come in and be
maister here."
" But I'm concerned about the lad," said Kate Menzies,
a little absently. " He met wi' none but friends here. He
might fa' into worse hands."
" Gang up yersel', Mistress, and hae a talk wi' him," said
the skipper boldly.
Kate Menzies did not do that ; but the same evening
she wrote Ronald a brief note. And very well she could
write too — in a dashing, free handwriting ; and gilt-edged
was the paper, and rose-pink Avas the envelope.
" Deah Ronald — Surely there is no quarrel between us.
If I have offended you, come and tell me ; don't go away
and sulk. If I have done or said anything to offend you,
I will ask your pardon. Can I do anything more than
that ? Your cousin and friend,
" Kate Menzies."
Of course he had to answer such an appeal in person ;
he went down the next morning.
" Quarrel, woman ? What put that into your head ? If
there had been anything of that kind, I would have told
you fast enough ; I'm not one of the sulking kind."
" Well, I'm very glad to ken we're just as good friends
as before," said Kate, regarding him, " but I'm not glad to
see the way ye're looking, Ronald, my lad. Ye're not
yourself at all, my man — what's got ye whitey-faced, limp,
shaky-looking like that ? See here."
She went to the sideboard, and the next instant there
3SO WHITE HEATHER
was on the table a bottle of champagne, with a couple of
glasses, and a flask of angostura bitters.
" No, no, Katie, lass, I will not touch a drop," said he ;
and he rose and took his cap in his hand.
" You will not ? " she said. " You will not ? Why, man,
you're ill — you're ill, I tell ye. It's medicine ! "
He gripped her by the hand, and took the bottle from
her, and put it down on the table.
" If I'm ill, I deserve to be, and that's the fact, lass.
Let be — let be, woman ; I'm obliged to ye — some other
time — some other time."
" Then if you winna, I will," she said, and she got hold
of the bottle and opened it and poured out a glass of the
foaming fluid.
" And dinna I ken better what's good for ye than ye do
yersel' ? " said she boldly. " Ay, if ye were ruled by me,
and drank nothing but what ye get in this house, there
would be little need for ye to be frightened at what a
wean might drink. Ye dinna ken your best friends, my lad."
" I know you wish me weel, Katie, lass," said he, for he
did not wish to appear ungrateful, " but I'm better without
it."
" Yes," said she , tauntingly. *' Ye're better without
sitting up a' night wi' a lot o' roystering fellows, smoking
bad tobacco and drinking bad whisky. What mak's your
face sae white ? It's fusel-oil, if ye maun ken. Here,
Ronald, what canna hurt a woman canna hurt a man o'
your build — try it, and see if ye dinna feel better."
She put a good dash of bitters into the glass, and poured
out the champagne, and offered it to him. He did not
wish to offend her ; and he himself did not believe the
thing could hurt him ; he took the glass and sipped about
a teaspoonful, and then set it down.
Kate Menzies looked at him, and laughed aloud, and
took him by the shoulders and pushed him back into his
chair,
" There's a man for ye ! Whatna young ladies' seminary
have ye been brought up at ? "
" I'll tell ye, lass," he retorted. " It was one where they
taught folk no to force other folk to drink against their will."
" Then it was different frae the one where I was broucrht
A BOLDER STEP 351
up, for there, when the doctor ordered anybody to take
medicine, they were made to take it. And here's yours,"
she said ; and she stood before him with the glass in her
hand. She was good-natured ; it would have been un-
gracious to refuse ; he took the glass from her and drank
off the contents.
Now a glass of champagne, even with the addition of a
little angostura bitters, cannot be called a very powerful
potion to those accustomed to such things ; but the fact
was that he had not touched a drop of any alcoholic fluid
for two days ; and this seemed to go straight to the brain.
It produced a slight, rather agreeable giddiness ; a sense of
comfort was diffused throughout the system ; he was not
so anxious to get away. And Kate began talking — up-
braiding him for thinking that she wanted to see him
otherwise than well and in his usual health, and declaring
that if he were guided by her, there would be no need for
him to torture himself with total abstinence, and to reduce
himself to this abject state. The counsel (which was meant
in all honesty) fell on yielding ears ; Kate brought some
biscuits, and filled herself out another glass.
" That's what it is," she said boldly, " if you would be
ruled by my advice there would be no shaking hands and
white cheeks for ye. Feeling better, are ye ? — ay, I warrant
ye ! Here, man, try this."
She filled his glass again, adding a good dose of bitters.
" This one I will, but not a drop more," said he. " Ye're
a desperate creature, lass, for making folk comfortable."
" I ken what's the matter wi' you better than ye ken
yoursel', Eonald," said she, looking at him shrewdly. '• You're
disappointed — you're out o' heart — because thae fine
American friends 0' yours hae forgotten you ; and you've
got sick o' this new work 0' yours ; and you've got among
a lot 0' wild fellows that are leading ye to the devil. Mark
my words. Americans ! Better let a man trust to his ain
kith and kin."
" "Well, Katie, lass, I maun say tl.is, that ye've just been
ower kind to me since ever I came to Glasgow."
" Another glass, Ronald "
" Not one drop — thank ye " — and this time he rose with
the definite resolve to get away, for even these two glasses
352 WHITE HEATHER
had caused a swimming in his head, and he knew not how
much more he might drink if he stayed.
" Better go for a long walk, then," said Kate, " and come
back at three and have dinner with us. I'll soon put ye
on your legs again — -trust to me,"
But when he went out into the open air, he found
himself so giddy and half-dazed and bewildered that, instead
of going away for any long walk, he thought he would go
back home and lie down. He felt less happy now. Why
had he taken this accursed thing after all his resolves ?
And then it was — as he went up Renfield Street — that
he caught his first glimpse of Meenie. No wonder he
turned and slunk rapidly away — anxious to hide anywhere
■ — hoping that Meenie had not seen him. And what a
strange thing was this — Meenie in Glasgow town 1 Oh, if
he could only be for a single day as once he had been — as
she had known him in the happy times when life went by
like a laugh and a song — how wonderful it would be* to go
along these thoroughfares hoping every moment to catch
sight of her face ! A dull town ? — no, a radiant town, with
music in the air, and joy and hope shining down from the
skies ! But now — he was a cowering fugitive — sick in body
and sick in mind---trembling with the excitement of this
sudden meeting — and anxious above all other things that
he should get back to the seclusion of his lodging unseen.
Well, he managed that, at all events ; and there he
sate down, wondering over this thing that had just happened.
Meenie in Glasgow town ! — and why ? And why had she
sent him the w'hite heather ? Nay, he could not doubt but
that she had heard ; and that this was at once a message of
reproach and an appeal ; and what answer had he to give
supposing that some day or other he should meet her face
to face ? How could he win back to his former state, so
that he should not be ashamed to meet those clear, kind
eyes ? If there were but some penance now — no matter
what suft'ering it entailed — that would obliterate these last
months and restore him to himself, how gladly w^ould he
welcome that ! But it w^as not only the bodily sickness —
he believed he could mend that ; he had still a fine phy-
sique ; and surely absolute abstention from stimulants, no
matter with what accompanying depression, would in time
A BOLDER STEP 353
give him back his health — it was mental sickness and
hopelessness and remorse that had to be cured ; and how
was that to be attempted ? Or why should he attempt it ?
What care had he for the future ? To be sure, he would
stop drinking, definitely ; and he would withdraw himself
from those wild companions ; and he would have a greater
regard for his appearance ; so that, if he should by chance
meet Meenie face to face, he would not have to be al-
together so ashamed. But after ? When she had gone
away again ? For of course he assumed that she was
merely here on a visit.
And all this time he was becoming more and more con-
scious of how far he had fallen — of the change that had
come over himself and his circumstances in these few
months ; and a curious fancy got into his head that he
would like to try to realise what he had been like in those
former days. He got out his blotting-pad of fragments —
not those dedicated to Meenie, that had been carefully put
aside — and about the very first of them that he chanced to
light upon, when he looked down the rough lines, made
him exclaim —
" God bless me, was I like that — and no longer ago than
last January ? "
The piece was called ' A Winter Song ' ; and surely the
man who could write in this gay fashion had an abundant
life and joy and hope in his veins, and courage to face the
worst bleakness of the winter, and a glad looking-for ward
to the coming of the spring ?
Keen hloios the icind upon Clehn'g's side,
And the snow lies thiclc on the heather ;
And the shivering hinds are glad to hide
Away from the winter weather.
Chorus : But soon the birds icill hegin to sing,
And ice icill sing too, my dear.
To give good tcelcoming to the spring,
In the primrose-time 0' the year I
Harli hoio the hlach lake, torn and tost,
Thunders along its shores ;
And the burn is hard in the grip of the frost,
And white, snow-white are the moors.
Chorus : But soon the Nrds will begin to sing, ete,
2 A
354 WHITE HEATHER
0 then the loarm west winds will blow,
And all in the sunny tveather.
It's over the moorlands we will go,
You and I, my love, together.
Chorus : And then the birds ivill begin to sing,
And we v:ill sing too, my dear.
To give good welcoming to the spring,
In the primrose-time o' the year !
Why, surely tlie blood must have been dancing in his brain
Avhen he wrote that ; and the days white and clear around
him ; and life merry and hopeful enough. And now ?
"Well, it was no gladdening thing to think of : he listlessly
put away the book.
And then he rose and went and got a pail of water and
thrust his head into that — for he was glad to feel that this
muzzy sensation was going ; and thereafter he dried and
brushed his hair with a little more care than usual ; and
put on a clean collar. Nay, he began to set the little room
to rights — and his life in Highland lodges had taught him
how to do that aboftt as well as any woman could ; and he
tried to brighten the window-panes a little, to make the
place look more cheerful ; and he arranged the things on
the mantel-shelf in better order — with the bit of white
heather in the middle. Then he came to his briar-root
pipe ; and paused. He took it up, hesitating.
" Yes, my friend, you must go too," he said, with firm
lips ; and he deliberately broke it, and tossed the fragments
into the grate.
And then he remembered that it was nearly three
o'clock, and as he feared that Kate Menzies might send
some one of her friends to fetch him, or even come for him
herself, he put on his cap, and took a stick in his hand,
and went out. In half an hour or so he had left the city
behind him and was lost in that melancholy half-country
that lies around it on the north ; but he cared little now
how the landscape looked ; he was wondering what had
brought Meenie to Glasgow town, and whether she had
seen him, and what she had heard of him. And at Inver-
]\Iudal too ? "Well, they might think the worst of him
there if they chose. But had Meenie heard ?
He scarcely knew how far he went ; but in the dusk of
A BOLDER STEP 355
the evening he was again approaching the city by the Great
"Western Eoad ; and as he came nearer to the houses, he
found that the lamps were lit, and the great town settling
down into the gloom of the night. Now he feared no
detention ; and so it was that when he arrived at Melrose
Street he paused there. Should he venture into Queen's
Crescent ? — it was but a stone's throw away. For he
guessed that Meenie must be staying with her sister ; and
he knew the address that she had given him, though he
had never called ; nay, he had had the curiosity, once or
twice in passing, to glance at the house ; and easily enough
he could now make it out if he chose. He hesitated for a
second or two ; then he stealthily made his way along the
little thoroughfare ; and entered the crescent — but keeping
to the opposite side from Mrs. Gemmill's dwelling — and
there quietly walked up and down. He could see the
windows well enough ; they were all of them lit ; and the
house seemed warm and comfortable ; Meenie would be at
home there, and among friends, and her bright laugh would
be heard from room to room. Perhaps they had company
too — since all the windows were aHaze ; rich folk, no doubt,
for the Gemmills were themselves well-to-do people ; and
Meenie would be made much of by these strangers, and
they would come round her, and the beautiful Highland
eyes would be turned towards them, and they would hear
her speak in her quiet, gentle, quaint way. Nor was there
any trace of envy or jealousy in this man's composition — -
outcast as he now deemed himself. Jealousy of Meenie ?
— why, he wished the bountiful heavens to pom* their
choicest blessings upon her, and the winds to be for ever
soft around her, and all sweet and gracious things to await
her throughout her childhood and her womanhood and her
old age. No ; it did not trouble him that these rich folk
were fortunate enough to be with her, to listen to her, to
look at the clear, frank eyes ; it might have troubled him
had he thought that they might not fully understand the
generous rose-sweetness of her nature, nor fully appreciate
her straightforward, unconscious simplicity, nor be suffi-
ciently kind to her. And it was scarcely necessary to con-
sider that ; of course they all of them would be kind to her,
for how could they help it ?
356 WHITE HEATHER
But his guess that they might be entertaining friends
^Yas wrong. By and by a cab drove up ; in a few minutes
the door was opened ; he ventured to draw a little nearer ;
and then he saw three figures — one of then almost
assuredly Meenie — come out and enter the vehicle. They
drove off ; no doubt they were going to some concert or
theatre, he thought ; and he was glad that Meenie was
being amused and entertained so ; and was among friends.
And as for himself ? —
" "Well," he was inwardly saying, as he resumed his walk
homeward, " the dreams that look so fine when one is up
among the hills are knocked on the head sure enough when
one comes to a town. I'll have no more to do with these
books ; nor with the widow Menzies and her friends either.
To-morrow morning I'm off to the recruiting-sergeant —
that's the best thing for me now."
By the time he had got home he was quite resolved upon
this. But there was a note lying there on the table for
him.
" That woman again," he said to himself. " Katie, lass,
I'm afraid you and I must part, but I hope we'll part good
friends."
And then his eyes grew suddenly startled. He took up
the note, staring at the outside, apparently half afraid.
And then he opened it and read — but in a kind of wild
and breathless bewilderment — these two or three lines,
written in rather a shaky hand —
" Dear Ronald — I wish to see you. Would it trouble
you to be at the corner of Sauchiehall Street and Eenfield
Street to-morrow morning at eleven ? — I will not detain you
more than a few minutes. Yours sincerely,
" Meenie Douglas."
There was not much sleep for him that night.
A MEETING 357
CHAPTER XXXYII.
A MEETING.
Indeed there was no sleep at all for him that night. He
knew not what this summons might mean ; and all the
assurance and self-confidence of former days was gone now ;
he was nervous, distracted, easily alarmed ; ready to imagine
evil things ; and conscious that he Avas in no fit state to
present himself before Meenie. And yet he never thought
of slinking away. Meenie desired to see him, and that
was enough. Always and ever he had been submissive to
her slightest wish. And if it were merely to reproach
him, to taunt him with his weakness and folly, that
she had now sent for him, he would go all the same. He
deserved that and more. If only it had been some one
else — not Meenie — whose resolute clear eyes he had to
meet !
That brief interview over — and then for the Queen's
shilling : this was what was before him now, and the way
seemed clear enough. But so unnerved was he that the
mere idea of having to face this timid girl made him more
and more restless and anxious ; and at last, towards three
o'clock in the morning, he, not having been to bed at all,
opened the door and stole down the stair and went out
into the night. The black heavens were pulsating from
time to time with a lurid red sent over from the ironworks
in the south ; somewhere there was the footfall of a police-
man unseen ; the rest was darkness and a terrible silence.
He wandered away through the lonely streets, he scarcely
knew whither. He was longing that the morning should
come, and yet dreading its approach. He reached the little
thoroughfare that leads into Queen's Crescent ; but he held
on his way without turning aside ; it was not for this poor
trembling ghost and coward to pass under her window, with
" Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast " as his
unspoken benediction. He held on his way towards the
open country, wandering quite aimlessly, and busy only
with guesses and forebodings and hopeless desires that he
might suddenly find before him the dark-rolling Avaters of
Lethe, and plunge into them, and wash away from him all
358 WHITE HEATHER
knowledge and recollection of the past. When at length he
turned towards the city, the gray dawn was breaking in the
dismal skies ; the first of the milk-carts came slowly crawl-
ing into the town ; and large waggons laden with vege-
tables and the like. He got back to his lodgings ; threw
himself on the bed ; and there had an hour or two of
broken and restless sleep.
When he awoke he went quickly to the window. The
skies were heavy ; there was a dull drizzle in the thick
atmosphere ; the pavements were wet. It Avas with a
sudden sense of relief that he saw what kind of a day it was.
Of course Meenie would never think of coming out on so
wet and miserable a morning. He would keep the appoint-
ment, doubtless ; she would not appear — taking it for
granted he would not expect her ; and then — then for the
recruiting-sergeant and a final settlement of all these ills
and shames. Nevertheless he dressed himself with scrupu-
lous neatness ; and brushed and rebrushed his clothes ;
and put on his deerstalker's cap — for the sake of old days.
And then, just as he was leaving, he took a little bit of
the white heather, and placed it in his waistcoat pocket ;
if the talisman had any subtle power whatever, all the good
luck that he could wish for was to find Meenie not too
bitter in her scorn.
He made his way to the corner of Sauchiehall Street
some little time before the appointed hour. But it was
actually raining now ; of course Meenie would not come.
So he idly paced up and down ; staring absently at the
shop windows ; occasionally looking along the street, but
with no great expectation ; and thinking how well content
and satisfied with themselves these people seemed to be
who were now hunying by under their streaming umbrellas.
His thoughts went far afield. Yimiera — Salamanca — Ciudad
Kodrigo — Balaklava — Alma — Lucknow — Alumbagh —
these were the names and memories that were in his head.
An old school companion of his own had got the Y.C. for
a conspicuous act of daring at the storming of the Eedan,
and if that were not likely to be his proud fate, at least
in this step he was resolved upon he would find safety and
a severance from degrading bonds, and a final renunciation
of futile ambitions and foolish and idle dreams.
A MEETING 3|9
He was looking into a bookseller's windo-w. A timid
hand touched his arm.
" Ronald ! "
And oh I the sudden wonder and the thrill of finding
before him those beautiful, friendly, glad eyes, so true, so
frank, so full of all womanly tenderness and solicitude,
and abundant and obvious kindness ! Where was the
reproach of them ? They were full of a kind of half-
hidden joy — timid and reluctant, perhaps, a little — but
honest and clear and unmistakable ; and as for him — well,
his breath was clean taken away by the surprise, and by the
sudden revulsion of feeling from a listless despair to the
consciousness that Meenie was still his friend ; and all he
could do was to take the gentle hand in both of his and
hold it fast.
" I — I heard that you were not — not very well, Eonald,"
she managed to say.
And then the sound of her voice — that brought with it
associations of years — seemed to break the spell that was on
him.
" Bless me. Miss Douglas," he said, " you will get quite
wet ! Vv^'ill you not put up your umbrella — or — or take
shelter somewhere ? "
" Oh, I do not mind the rain," she said, and there was
a kind of tremulous laugh about her lips, as if she were
trying to appear very happy indeed. " I do not mind the
rain. We did not heed the rain much at Inver-Mudal,
Ronald, when there was anything to be done. And — and
so glad I am to see you ! It seems so long a time since you
left the Highlands."
" Ay ; and it has been a bad time for me," he said ; and
now he was beginning to get his wits together again. He
could not keep Miss Douglas thus standing in the wet.
He would ask her why she had sent for him ; and then he
would bid her good-bye and be off ; but with a glad, glad
heart that he had seen her even for these few seconds.
" And there are so many things to be talked over after so
long a time," said she ; " I hope you have a little while to
spare, Ronald "
" But to keep you in the rain, Miss Douglas "
" Oh, but this will do," said she (and whatever her inward
36o WHITE HE A THER
thoughts were, her speech was blithe enough). "See, I
will put up the umbrella, and you will carry it for me — it is
not the first time, Ronald, that you and I have had to walk
in the rain together, and without any umbrella. And do
you know why I do not care for the rain ? " she added,
glancing at him again with the frank, affectionate eyes ;
" it's because I am so glad to find you looking not so ill
after all, Ronald."
" Not so ill, maybe, as I deserve to be," he answered ;
but he took the umbrella and held it over her ; and they
went down Renfield Street a little way and then into West
Regent Street ; and if she did not put her hand on his arm,
at least she was very close to him, and the thrill of the touch
of her dress was magnetic and strange. Strange, indeed ;
and strange that he should find himself walking side by side
with Meenie through the streets of Glasgow town ; and
listening mutely and humbly the while to all her varied talk
of what had happened since he left Inver-Mudal. What-
ever she had heard of him, it seemed to be her wish to
ignore that. She appeared to assume that their relations to
each other now were just as they had been in former days.
And she was quite bright and cheerful and hopeful ; how
could he know that the first glance at his haggard face had
struck like a dagger to her heart ?
Moreover, the rain gradually ceased ; the umbrella was
lowered ; a light west wind was quietly stirring ; and by
and by a warmer light began to interfuse itself through the
vaporous atmosphere. Nay, by the time they had reached
Blythswood Square, a pallid sunshine was clearly shining
on the wet pavements and door-steps and house-fronts ; and
far overhead, and dimly seen through the mysteriously
moving pall of mist and smoke, there were faint touches of
blue, foretelling the opening out to a joyfuller day. The
wide square was almost deserted ; they could talk to each
other as they chose ; though, indeed, the talking was mostly
on her side. Something, he scarcely knew what, kept him
silent and submissive ; but his heart was full of gratitude
towards her ; and from time to time — for how could he
help it ? — some chance word or phrase of appeal would
bring him face to face with Meenie's eyes.
So far she had cunningly managed to avoid alll reference
A MEETING 361
to his own affairs, so that he might get accustomed to this
friendly conversation ; but at length she said —
" And now about yourself, Ronald ? "
" The less said the better," he answered. " I wish that I
had never come to this town."
" What ? " she said, with a touch of remonstrance in her
look. " Have you so soon forgotten the fine prospects you
started away with ? Surely not ! Why, it was only the
other day I had a letter from Miss Hodson — the young
American lady, you remember — and she was asking all
about you, and whether you had passed the examination
yet ; and she said her father and herself were likely to
come over next spring, and hoped to hear you had got the
certificate,"
He seemed to pay no heed to this news.
" I wish I had never left Inver-Mudal," he said. " I was
content there ; and what more can a man wish for any-
where ? It's little enough of that I've had since I came to
this town. But for whatever has happened to me, I've
got myself to blame ; and — and I beg your pardon. Miss
Douglas, I will not bother you with any poor concerns of
mine "
" But if I wish to be bothered ? " she said quickly.
" Ronald, do you know why I have come from the
Highlands ? "
Her face was blushing a rosy red ; bub her eyes were
steadfast and clear and kind ; and she had stopped in her
walk to confront him.
" I heard the news of you — yes, I heard the news," she
continued ; and it was his eyes, not hers, that were down-
cast ; " and I knew you would do much for me — at least, I
thought so, — and I said to myself that if I were to go to
Glasgow, and find you, and ask you for my sake to give
me a promise "
"I know what ye would say. Miss Douglas," he inter-
posed, for she was dreadfully embarrassed. " To give up
the drink. Well, it's easily promised and easily done, note
— indeed, I've scarcely touched a drop since ever I got the
bit of heather you sent me. It was a kind thing to think of
—maybe I'm making too bold to think it was you that sent
it "
362 WHITE HEATHER
" I knew you would know that it was I that sent it — 1
meant you to know," she said simply.
" It was never any great love of the drink that drove me
that way," he said. " I think it was that I might be able
to forget for a while."
" To forget what, Eonald ? " she asked, regarding him.
" That ever I was such a fool as to leave the only people
I cared for," he answered frankly, " and come away here
among strangers, and bind myself to strive for what I
had no interest in. But bless me. Miss Douglas, to think
I should keep ye standing here — talking about my poor
affairs "
" Ronald," she said calmly, " do you know that I have
come all the way to Glasgow to see you and to talk
about your affairs and nothing else ; and you are not going
to hurry away ? Tell me about yourself. What are you
doing ? Are you getting on with your studies ? "
He shook his head.
*' No, no. I have lost heart that way altogether. Many's
the time I have thought of writing to Lord Ailine, and
asking to be taken back, if it was only to look after the
dogs. I should never have come to this town ; and now I
am going away from" it, for good."
" Going away ? Where ? " she said, rather breathlessly.
" I want to make a clean break off from the kind of life
I have been leading," said he, " and I know the surest way.
I mean to enlist into one of the Highland regiments that's
most likely to be ordered off on foreign service."
" Ronald ! "
She seized his hand and held it.
" Ronald, you will not do that ! "
Well, he was startled by the sudden pallor of her face ;
and bewildered by the entreaty so plainly visible in the
beautiful eyes ; and perhaps he did not quite know how he
answered. But he spoke quickly.
" Oh, of course I will not do that," he said, " of course I
will not do that. Miss Douglas, so long as you are in
Glasgow. How could I ? Why, the chance of seeing yon,
even at a distance — for a moment even — I would wait days
for that. When I made up my mind to enlist, I had no
thought that I might ever have the chance of seeing you.
A MEETING 363
Oh no ; I will wait until you have gone back to the High-
lands— how could I go away from Glasgow and miss any
single chance of seeing yon, if only for a moment ? "
" Yes, yes," she said eagerly, " you will do nothing until
then, anyway ; and in the meantime I shall see you
often "
His face lighted up with surprise.
" Will you be so kind as that ? " he said quickly. And
then he dropped her hand. " No, no. I am so bewildered
by the gladness of seeing you that — that I forgot. Let me
go my own way. You were always so generous in your
good nature that you spoiled us all at Inver-Mudal ; here
— here it is different. You are living with your sister, I
suppose ? and of course you have many friends, and many
things to do and places to visit. You must not trouble
about me ; but as long as you are in Glasgow — well, there
will always be the chance of my catching a glimpse of you
— and if you knew what it was — to me "
But here he paused abruptly, fearful of offending by
confessing too much ; and now they had resumed their
leisurely walking along the half-dried pavements ; and
Meenie was revolving certain little schemes and artifices in
her brain — with a view to their future meeting. And the
morning had grown so much brighter ; and there was a
pleasant warmth of sunlight in the air ; and she was glad
to know that at least for a time Eonald Avould not be
leaving the country. She turned to him with a smile.
" I shall have to be going back home now," she said,
"but you will not forget, Ronald, that you have made me
two promises this morning."
" It's little you know, Miss Douglas," said he, " what I
would do for you, if I but knew what ye wished. I mean
for you yourself. For my own self, I care but little what
happens to me. I have made a mistake in my life some-
how. I "
" Then will you promise me more, Ronald ? " said she
quickly ; for she would not have him talk in that strain,
" What ? "
" Wih you make me a promise that you will not enhst at
all?"
" I will, if it is worth heeding one way or the other."
364 WHITE HEATHER
" But make me the promise," said she, and she regarded
him with no unfriendly eyes.
" There's my hand on't."
" And another — that you will work hard and try and
get the forestry certificate ? "
" What's the use of that, lass ? " said he, forgetting his
respect for her. " I have put all that away now. That's
all away beyond me now."
" No," she said proudly. " No. It is not. Oh, do yon
think that the people who know you do not know what
your ability is ? Do you think they have lost their faith
in you ? Do you think they are not still looking forward
and hoping the time may come that they may be proud of
your success, and — and — come and shake hands with you,
Ronald — and say how glad they are ? And have you no
regard for them, or heed for their — their affection towards
you ? "
Her cheeks were burning red, but she was far too much
in earnest to measure her phrases ; and she held his hand
in an imploring kind of way ; and surely, if ever a brave
and unselfish devotion and love looked out from a woman's
eyes, that was the message that Meenie's eyes had for him
then.
" I had a kind of fancy," he said, " that if I could get
abroad — with one 0' those Highland regiments — there
might come a time when I could have the chance of winning
the V.C. — the Victoria Cross, [I mean ; ay, and it would
have been a proud day for me the day that I was able to
send that home to you."
" To me, Ronald ? " she said, rather faintly.
" Yes, yes," said he. " Whatever happened to me after
that day would not matter much."
" But you have promised "
" And I will keep that promise, and any others you may
ask of me, Miss Douglas."
"That you will call me Meenie, for one?" she said,
quite simply and frankly.
" No, no ; I could not do that," he answered — and yet
the permission sounded pleasant to the ear.
" We are old friends, Ronald," she said. " But that is a
small matter. Well, now, I must be getting back home ;
A MEETING 365
and yet I should like to see you again soon, Ronald, for
there are so many things I have to talk over with you.
"Will you come and see my sister ? "
His hesitation and embarrassment were so obvious that
she instantly repented her of having thrown out this
invitation ; moreover, it occurred to herself that there
would be little chance of her having any private speech of
Ronald (which was of such paramount importance at this
moment) if he called at Queen's Crescent.
"No, not yet," she said, rather shamefacedly and with
downcast eyes ; " perhaps, since — since there are one or
two private matters to talk over, we — we could meet just
as now ? It is not — taking up too much of your time,
Ronald .? "
" Why," said he, " if I could see you for a moment,
any day — merely to say ' good morning ' — that would
be a well-spent day for me ; no more than that used
to make many a long day quite happy for me at Inver-
Mudal"
" Could you be here to-morrow at eleven, Ronald ? " she
asked, looking up shyly.
" Yes, yes, and gladly ! " he answered ; and presently
they had said good-bye to each other ; and she had set out
for Queen's Crescent by herself ; while he turned towards
the east.
And now all his being seemed transfused with joy and
deep gratitude ; and the day around him was clear and
sweet and full of light ; and all the world seemed swinging
onward in an ether of happiness and hope. The dreaded
interview !^ — where was the reproach and scorn of it ?
Instead of that it had been all radiant with trust and
courage and true affection ; and never had Meenie's eyes
been so beautiful and solicitous with all good wishes ; never
had her voice been so strangely tender, every tone of it
seeming to reach the very core of his heart. And how was
he to requite her for this bountiful care and sympathy —
that overawed him almost when he came to think of it ?
Nay, repayment of any kind was all impossible : where was
the equivalent of such generous regard ? But at least he
could faithfully observe the promises he had made — yes,
these and a hundred more ; and perhaps this broken life of
366 WHITE HE A THER
his might still be of some small service, if in any way it
could win for him a word of Meenie's approval.
And then, the better to get away from temptation, and
to cut himself wholly adrift from his late companions, he
walked home to his lodgings and packed up his few things
and paid his landlady a fortnight's rent in lieu of notice, as
had been agreed upon. That same night he was established
in new quarters, in the Garscube Eoad ; and he had left no
address behind him ; so that if Kate Menzies, or the
skipper, or any of his cronies of the Harmony Club were to
wonder at his absence and seek to hunt him out, they would
seek and hunt in vain.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CONFESSION.
That night he slept long and Soundly, and his dreams were
all about Inver-Mudal and the quiet life among the hills ;
and, strangely enough, he fancied himself there, and Meenie
absent ; and always he was wondering when she was coming
back from Glasgow town, and always he kept looking for
her as each successive mail-cart came through from the
south. And then in the morning, when he awoke, and
found himself in the great city itself, and knew that Meenie
was there too, and that in a few hours they were to meet,
his heart was filled with joy, and the day seemed rich and
full of promise, and the pale and sickly sunlight that
struggled in through the window panes and lit up the
dusty little room seemed a glorious thing, bringing with it
all glad tidings. " You, fortunate Glasgow town ! " he had
rhymed in the olden days ; and this was the welcome that
Glasgow town had for Meenie — sunlight, and perhaps a
glimpse of blue here and there, and a light west wind
blowing in from the heights of Dowanhill and Hillhead.
He dressed with particular care ; and if his garments
were not of the newest fashionable cut, at least they clung
with sufficient grace and simplicity of outline to the manly
and well-set figure. And he knew himself that he was
looking less haggard than on the previous day. He was
feeling altogether better ; the long and sound sleep had
CONFESSION 367
proved a powerful restorative ; and his heart was light
with hope. The happy sunlight shining out there on the
gray pavements and the gray fronts of the houses ! — was
there ever in all the world a fairer and joyfuUer city than
this same Glasgow town ?
He was in Blythswood Square long before the appointed
hour ; and she also was a little early. But this time it was
Meenie who was shy and embarrassed ; she was not so
earnest and anxious as she had been the day before, for
much of her errand was now satisfactorily accomplished ;
and when, after a moment's hesitation, he asked her
whether she would not go and have a look at the terraces
and trees in the West End Park, it seemed so like two
lovers setting out for a walk together that the conscious
blood mantled in her cheeks, and her eyes were averted.
But she strove to be very business-like ; and asked him a
number of questions about Mr. Weems ; and wondered that
the Americans had said nothing further about the purchase
of an estate in the Highlands, of which there had been
some little talk. In this way — and with chance remarks
and inquiries about Maggie, and the Eeverend Andrew,
and Mr. Murray, and Harry the terrier, and what not — •
they made their way through various thoroughfares until
they reached the tall gates of the West End Park.
Here there was much more quietude than in those noisy
streets ; and when they had walked along one of the wide
terraces, until they came to a seat partly surrounded by
shrubs, Meenie suggested that they might sit down there,
for she wished to reason seriously with him. He smiled a
little ; but he was very plastic in her hands. Nay, was it
not enough merely to hear Meenie speak — no matter what
the subject might be ? And then he was sitting by her
side, with all that wide prospect stretched out before them
■ — the spacious terraces, the groups of trees, the curving
river, and the undulating hills beyond. It was a weird
kind of a morning, moreover ; for the confused and wan
sunlight kept struggling through the ever-changing mist,
sometimes throwing a coppery radiance on the late autumn
foliage, or again shining pale and silver-like as the fantastic
cloud-wreaths slowly floated onward. The view before
them was mysterious and vast because of its very vague-
368 WHITE HEATHER
ness ; and even the new University buildings — over there
on the heights above the river — looked quite imposing and
picturesque, for they loomed largo and dusky and remote
through the bewildering sunlit haze.
" Now, Eonald," she said, " I want you to tell me how it
was you came to lose heart so, and to give up what you
undertook to do when you left Inver-Mudal. Why, when
you left you were full of such high hopes ; and every one
was sure of yom* success ; and you were all anxiety to begin."
" That's true, Miss Douglas," he answered, rather absently.
" I think my head must have been in a kind of a whirl at
that time. It seemed so fine and easy a thing to strive for ;
and I did not stop to ask what use it would be to me, sup-
posing I got it."
" The use ? " she said. " A better position for yourself —
isn't it natural to strive for that ? And perhaps, if you did
not care much to have more money for yourself — for you
have very strange notions, Ronald, about some things —
you must see how much kindness can be done to others
by people who are well off. I don't understand you at
all "
" Well, then," said he, shifting his ground, " I grew sick
and tired of the town life. I was never meant for that.
Every day "
" But, Ronald," she said, internipting him in a very
definite tone of remonstrance, " you knew that your town
life was only a matter of months ! And the harder you
worked the sooner it would be over ! What reason was
that ? "
" There may have been other reasons," he said, but
rather unwillingly.
" What were they ? " .
" I cannot tell you."
" Ronald," she said, and the touch of wounded pride in
her voice thrilled him strangely, " I have come all the way
from the Highlands — and — and done what few girls would
have done — for your sake ; and yet you will not be frank
with me — when all that I want is to see you going straight
towards a happier future."
" I dare not tell you, you would be angry."
" I am not given to anger," she answered, calmly, and yet
CONFESSION 369
with a little surprised resentment. For she could but
imagine that this was some entanglement of debt, or
something of the kind, of which he was ashamed to
speak ; and yet, unless she knew clearly the reasons that
had induced him to abandon the project that he had under-
taken so eagerly, how was she to argue with him and urge
him to resume it ?
" Well, then, we'll put it this way," said he, after a second
or two of hesitation — and his face was a little pale, and his
eyes were fixed on her with an anxious nervousness, so that,
at the first sign of displeasure, he could instantly stop.
" There was a young lass that I knew there— in the High-
lands— and she was, oh yes, she was out of my station
altogether, and away from me — and yet the seeing her from
time to time, and a word now and again, was a pleasure to
me, greater maybe than I confessed to myscK — the greatest
that I had in life, indeed."
She made no sign, and he continued, slowly and
watchfully, and still with that pale earnestness in his face.
" x\nd then I wrote things about her — and amused my-
self with fancies — well, what harm could that do to her ? — ■
so long as she knew nothing about it. And I thought I
was doing no harm to myself either, for I knew it was im-
possible there could be anything between us, and that she
would be going away sooner or later, and I too. Yes, and
I did go away, and in high feather, to be sure, and every-
thing was to be for the best, and I was to have a fight for
money like the rest of them. God help me, lassie, before I
was a fortnight in the town, my heart was like to break."
She sate quite still and silent, trembling a little, perhaps,
her eyes downcast, her fingers working nervously with the
edge of the small shawl she wore.
" I had cut myself away from the only thing I craved for
in the world — just the seeing and speaking to her from time
to time, for I had no right to think of more than that ; and
I was alone and down-hearted ; and I began to ask myself
what was the use of this slavery. Ay, there might have
been a use in it — if I could have said to myself, " Well,
now, fight as hard as ye can, and if ye win, who knows but
that ye might go back to the north, and claim her as the
prize ? " But that was not to be thought of. She had
2 c
370 WHITE HE A THER
never hinted anything of the kind to me, nor I to her ; but
when I found myself cut away from her like that, the days
were terrible, and my heart was like lead, and I knew that
I had cast away just everything that I cared to live for.
Then I fell in with some companions — a woman cousin o'
mine and some friends of hers — and they helped to make
me forget what I didna wish to think of, and so the time
passed. Well, now, that is the truth ; and ye can under-
stand, Miss Douglas, that I have no heart to begin again,
and the soldiering seemed the best thing for me, and a rifle-
bullet my best friend. But — but I will keep the promise
I made to ye — that is enough on that score ; oh yes, I
will keep that promise, and any others ye may care to ask ;
only I caimot bide in Glasgow."
He heard a faint sob ; he could see that tears were
gliding stealthily down her half -hidden face ; and his heart
was hot with anger against himself that he had caused her
this pain. But how could he go away ? A timid hand
sought his, and held it for a brief moment with a tremulous
clasp.
" I am very sorry, Eonald," she managed to say, in a
broken voice. " I suppose it could not have been other-
wise— I suppose it could not have been otherwise."
For some time they sate in silence— though he could
hear an occasional half-stifled sob. He could not pretend
to think that Meenie did not understand ; and this was
her great pity for him ; she did not drive him away in
anger — her heart was too gentle for that.
" Miss Douglas," said he at length, " I'm afraid I've
spoiled your walk for you wi' my idle story. Maybe the
best thing I can do now is just to leave you."
" No — stay," she said, under her breath ; and she was
evidently trying to regain her composure. " You spoke — •
you spoke of that girl — 0 Ronald, I wish I had never
come to Glasgow !— I wish I had never heard what you
told me just now I "
And then, after a second —
" But how could I help it — when I heard what was
happening to you, and all the wish in the world I had was
to know that you were brave and well and successful and
happy ? I could not help it 1 . . . And now — and now —
CONFESSION- 2,7 1
Ilonald,'' she said, as if with a struggle against that choking
weight of sobs ; for much was demanded of her at this
moment ; and her voice seemed powerless to utter all that
her heart prompted her to say, " if — if that girl you spoke
of— if she was to see clearly what is best for her life
and for yours — if she was to tell you to take up your
work again, and work hard, and hard, and hard — and
then, some day, it might be years after this, when you
came back again to the north, you would find her still
waiting ? "
" Meenie ! "
He grasped her hand : his face was full of a bewilder-
ment of hope— not joy, not triumph, but as if he hardly
dared to believe what he had heard.
" 0 Eonald," she said, in a kind of wild way, — and she
turned her wet eyes towards him in full, unhesitating
abandonment of affection and trust, nor could she with-
draw the hand that he clasped so firmly, — " what will you
think of me ? — what will you think of me ? — but surely
there should be no hiding or false shame, and surely there
is for you and for me in the world but the one end to hope
for ; and if not that — why, then, nothing. If you go away,
if you have nothing to hope for, it will be the old misery
back again, the old despair ; and as for me — well, that
is not of much matter. But, Ronald — Ronald — whatever
happens — don't think too hardly of me — I know I should
not have said so much— but it would just break my heart
to think you were left to yourself in Glasgow — with nothing
to care for or hope for "
" Think of you ! " he cried, and in a kind of wonder of
rapture he was regarding Meenie's tear-filled eyes, that
made no shame of meeting his look. " I think of you —
and ever will — as the tenderest and kindest and truest-
hearted of women." He had both her hands now ; and he
held them close and warm. " Even now — at this minute —
when you have given yourself to me — you have no thought
of yourself at all — it is all about me, that am not worth it,
and never was. Is there any other woman in the world so
brave and unselfish ! Meenie, lass — no, for this once —
and no one will ever be able to take the memory away
from me — for this once let me call you my love and my
9 V ^
372 WHITE HEATHER
darling — my true-hearted love and darling ! — well, now,
that's said and done with ; and many a day to come I will
think over these few minutes, and think of sitting here
with you in this West End Park on the bench here, and
the trees around, and I will say to myself that I called
Meenie my love and my darling, and she was not angry — •
not angry."
" No, not angry, Ronald," and there was a bit of a strange
and tender smile shining through the tears in the. blue-gray
eyes.
" Ay, indeed," said he, more gravely, " that will be some-
thing for me ; maybe, everything. I can scarcely believe
that this has just happened — my heart's in a flame, and
my head's gone daft, I think ; and it seems as if there was
nothing for me but to thank God for having sent you into
the world and made you as unselfish and generous as you
are. But that's not the way of looking at it, my — my good
lass. You have too little thought for yourself. Why,
what a coward I should be if I did not ask you to think of
the sacrifice you are making ! "
" I am making no sacrifice, Eonald," she said, simply
and calmly. " I spoke what my heart felt ; and perhaps
too readily. But I am going back to the Highlands. I
shall stay there till you come for me, if ever you come for
me. They spoke of my going for a while to my mother's
cousins ; but I shall not do that ; no, I shall be at Inver-
Mudal, or wherever my father is, and you will easily get to
know that, Ronald. But if things go ill, and you do not
come for me — or — or, if ye do not care to come for me —
well, that is as the world goes, and no one can tell before-
hand. Or many years may go by, and when you do come
for me, Ronald, you may find me a gray-haired woman — ■
but you will find me a single woman."
She spoke quite calmly ; this was no new resolve ; it
was his lips, not hers, that were tremulous, for a second or
so. But only for a second ; for now he was all anxiety to
cheer her and comfort her as regards the future. He
could not bring himself to ask her to consider again ; the
prize was too precious ; rather he spoke of all the chances
and hopes of life, and of the splendid future that she had
placed before him. Now there was something worth striv-
CONFESSION 373
ing for — something worth the winning. And akeady, with
the wild audacity that was now pulsating in his veins, he
saw the way clear — a long way, perhaps, and tedious, but
all filled with light and strewn with blossoms here or
there (these were messages, or a look, or a smile, from
Meenie), and at the end of it, waiting to welcome him, Love-
Meenie, Eose-Meenie, with love-radiance shining in her
eyes.
He almost talked her into cheerfulness (for she had
grown a little despondent after that first devotion of self-
surrender) ; and by and by she rose from the bench. She
was a little pale.
" I don't know whether I have done well or ill, Eonald,"
she said, in a low voice, " but I do not think I could have
done otherwise. It is for you to show hereafter that I
have done right."
" But do you regret ? " he said quickly.
She turned to him with a strange smile on her face.
" Eegret ? No. I do not think I could have done
otherwise. But it is for you to show to all of them that I
have done right."
" And if it could only be done all at once, Meenie ;
that's where the soldier has his chance "
" No, it is not to be done all at once," she said ; " it will
be a hard and difficult waiting for you, and a slow waiting
for me "
" Do you think I care for any hardness or difficulty
now ? " he said. " Dear Meenie, you little know what a
prize you have set before me. Why, now, here, every
moment that I pass with you seems worth a year ; and yet
I grudge every one "
" Bat why ? " she said, looking up.
" I am going over to PoUokshaws the instant I leave
you to try to pick up the threads of everything I had
let slip. Dear lass, you have made every quarter of an
hour in the day far too short ; I want twelve hours in
the day to be with you, and other twelve to be at my
work."
" We must see each other very little, Eonald," she said,
as they set out to leave the Park. "People would only
talk "
374 WHITE HEATHER
" But to morrow "
" No. My sister is going down to Dunoon to-morrow to
see about the shutting up of the house for the winter, and
I am going with her. But on Friday — if you were in the
Botanic Gardens — early in the forenoon — perhaps I could
see you then ? "
" Yes, yes," said he eagerly ; and as they went down
towards the Woodland Eoad he strove to talk to her very
cheerfully and brightly indeed, for he could not but see
that she was a little troubled.
Then, when they were about to part, she seemed to try
to rouse herself a little, and to banish whatever doubts and
hesitations may have been harassing her mind.
" Eonald," she said, with a bit of a smile, " when you told
me of that girl in the Highlands that you knew, you said
you — you had never said anything to her that would lead
her to imagine you were thinking of her. But you wrote
her a letter."
" What ? "
" Yes ; and she saw it," Meenie continued ; but with
downcast eyes. " It was not meant for her to see ; but she
saw it. It was some verses — very pretty they were — but
— but rather daring; — considering that "
" Bless me," he exclaimed, " did you see that ? "
She nodded. And then his mind went swiftly back to
that period.
" Meenie, that was the time you were angry with me."
She looked up.
" And yet not so very angry, Eonald."
" But Love from Love towards school ivith heavy looks^
Not always. Five miles an hour or so was the pace at
which Ronald sped over to Pollokshaws ; and very much
astonished was the nervous little Mr. Weems over the new-
found and anxious energy of his quondam pupil. Eonald
remained all day there, and, indeed, did not leave the
cottage until it was very late. As he walked back into the
town all the world around him lay black and silent ; no
stars were visible ; no crescent moon ; nor any dim outline
of cloud ; but the dusky heavens were flushed with the
red fires of the ironworks, as the flames shot fiercely up
AT THE PEAR-TREE WELL 375
and sent their sullen splendour across the startled night.
And that, it may have occurred to him, was as the lurid
glare that had lit up his own life for a while, until the fires
had grown down, and the world grown sombre and dead ;
but surely there was a clear dawn about to break by and
by in the east — clear and silvery and luminous — like the
first glow of the morn along the Clebrig slopes.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
AT THE PEAE-TEEE WELL.
He was almost glad that Meenie was going away for these
two days, for he was desperately anxious to make up for
the time he had lost ; and the good-natured little Mr.
AVeems, instead of showing any annoyance or resentment,
rather aided and abetted this furious zeal on the part of his
pupil. All the same, Eonald found occasion to be within
easy distance of the railway station on the morning of
Meenie's departure ; and about a few minutes to eight he
saw herself and her sister step out of one of the cabs that
were being driven up. If only he could have signalled a
good-bye to her 1 But he kept discreetly in the background ;
glad enough to see that she was looking so fresh and bright
and cheerful — even laughing she was, over some little
mishap, as he imagined. And then so trim and neat she
was in her travelling attire ; and so daintily she walked —
tbe gr-aceful figure moving (as he thought) as if to a kind
of music. The elder sister took the tickets ; then they
entered one of the carriages ; and presently the train had
slowly rolled away from the platform and was gone.
That glimpse of Meenie had filled his heart with un-
utterable delight ; he scarcely knew what he was doing
when he got out into the open air again. The day seejned
a festal day ; there was gladness abroad in the very atmo-
sphere ; it was a day for good-companionship, and the
drinking of healths, and the wishing of good wishes to all
the world. His thoughts were all with Meenie — in that
railway carriage flying away down to Greenock ; and yet
here, around him, there was gladness and happiness that
seen^ed to demand some actual expression and recognition 1
376 WHITE HEATHER
Almost unconsciously — and mth his brain busy with very
distant matters — he walked into a public-house.
" Give me a glass of Highland whisky, my lad," said he
to the young man standing behind the counter : " Talisker,
if ye have it."
The whisky was measured out and placed before him.
He did not look at it. He was standing a little apart.
And now Meenie would be out by Pollokshields, in the
whiter air ; by and by she would pass through Paisley's
smoke ; then through the placid pastoral country until she
would come in sight of Dumbarton's castled crags and the
long wide valley of the Clyde. And then the breezy waters
of the Firth ; and the big steamboat ; and Meenie walking
up and down the white deck, and drawing the sealskin
coat a little tighter round the slight and graceful figure.
There would be sunlight there ; and fresh sea-winds blow-
ing up from Arran and Bute, from Cumbrae and Cantire.
And Meenie —
But at this moment his attention was somehow drawn to
the counter, and he was startled into a consciousness of
where he was and what he was doing. He glanced at the
whisky — with a kind of shiver of fright.
" God forgive me — I did not want it," he said to the
astonished youth who was looking at him, " but here's the
money for 't."
He put down the few coppers on the counter and
hurriedly left the place. But the sudden fright Avas all. As
he sped away out to Pollokshaws he was not haunted by
any consciousness of having escaped from danger. He was
sure enough of himself in that direction. If a mortal
craving for drink had seized him, he would almost have
been glad of the fight ; it would be something to slay the
dragon, for Meenie's sake. But he had naturally a sound
and firm constitution ; his dissipation had not lasted long
enough to destroy his strength of will ; and indeed this
incident of the public-house, so far from terrifying him with
any doubts as to the future, only served to remind him that
dreams and visions — and brains gone " daft " with access of
joy — are not appropriate to the thoroughfares of a business
city.
No ; as he walked rapidly away from the town, by way
AT THE PEAR-TREE WELL 377
of Strathbungo and Crossmyloof and Shawlands, what he
was chiefly busy with was the hammering out of some tune
that would fit the winter song he had chanced upon a few
days before. And now he did not regard those gay and
galloping verses with a stupefied wonder as to how he ever
came to write them ; rather he tried to reach again to that
same pitch of light-heartedness ; and of course it was for
Meenie's delight, and for hers only, that this tune had to
be got at somehow. It was a laughing, glad kind of a tune
that he wanted :
0 then the loarm west winds will Mow,
And all in the sunny weather
It's over the moorlands we ivill go,
You and I, my love, together.
Chorus : And then the birds will begin to sing,
And we loill sing too, my dear.
To give good welcoming to the spring.
In the primrose-time 0' the year —
In the primrose-time.
In the primrose-time,
In the primrose-tiine 0' the year —
To give good welcoming to the spring.
In the primrose time 0' the year.
Yes ; and it was in the coming spring-time that he was to
try for the certificate in forestry ; and thereafter — if he
were so fortunate as to get that — he might set forth on the
path that the Americans had so confidently sketched out
for him — the path that was now to lead him to Meenie, as
the final crown and prize. " You may find me a gray-haired
woman, Eonald," she had said, " but you will find me a
single woman." But still he was young in years ; and there
was hope and courage in his veins ; and what if he were to
win to her, after all, before there was a single streak of
middle age in the beautiful and abundant brown tresses ?
Then, again, on the evening before the morning on
which he was to meet her in the Botanic Gardens, he undid
the package containing that anthology of verse devoted to
Meenie ; and began to turn the pieces over, wondering
wliich, or if any of them, would please her, if he took them
to her. But this was rather a visionary Meenie he found in
these verses ; not the real and actual Meenie who had sate
378 WHITE HEATHER
beside him on a bench in the West End Park, and placed
her hand in his, and pledged her life to him, while the
beautiful, tear-filled eyes sought his so bravely. And could
he not write something about this actual Meenie ; and
about Glasgow ; and the wonder she had brought into the
great, prosaic city ? He tried his hand at it, anyway, for a
little while :
The dim red fires of yonder gleaming forge
No to dwell triumphant on the hrow of night ;
A thousand chimneys blackest smoke disgorge,
Bepelling from the world the stars' pale light :
A little taper shines adown the street,
From out her casement ivhere she lingers still
To listen to the sound of iMSsing feet,
Tliat all the night icith leaden echoes fill —
But he soon stopped. This was not like Meenie at all —
Meenie, who was ever associated m his mind with flowers
and birds and fair sunlight and the joy of the summer hills.
He threw that spoiled sheet into the fire ; and sought
among the old pieces for one that he might copy out fairly
for her ; and this is what he eventually chose :
All on-a fair May morning
The roses hegan to hloio;
Some of them tipped with crimson,
Some of them tipped ivith snow.
But they looked the one to the other,
And they looked adown the glen ;
They looked the one to the other.
And they rubbed their eyes again. _
" 0 there is the lark in the heavens,
And the mavis sings in the tree;
And surely tins is the summer,
But Meenie we cannot see.
" Surely there must he summer
Coming to this far clime;
And has Meenie, Love Meenie, forgottoi.
Or have we mistaken the timeV
Then a foxglove spake to the roses :
" 0 hush you and cease your din;
For Fm going back to my sleeping,
Till Meenie brings summer iii,"
AT THE PEAR-TREE WELL 379
Well, it was but a trifle ; but trifles are sometimes
important things when seen through lovers' eyes.
Next morning he went along to the Botanic Gardens ;
paid his sixpence with equanimity (for he had dispensed
with the ceremony of dining the previous day) and entered.
It was rather a pleasant morning ; and at first sight he was
rather shocked by the number of people — nursemaids and
children, most of them — who were idly strolling along the
trimly-kept walks or seated in front of the wide ojDen par-
terres. How was he to find Meenie in such a great place ;
and, if he did find her, were they to walk up and down
before so many eyes ? For he had guessed that Meenie
would be in no hurry to tell her sister of what had happened
— until the future seemed a little more clear and secure ;
it would be time enough to publish the news when that had
assumed a more definite character.
But on and on he went — with glances that were keen
and sharp enough — until suddenly, just as he had passed the
greenhouses, he came almost face to face with Meenie, who
was seated on a bench, all by herself, with a book before
her. But she was not reading. " 0 and proudly rose she
up " ; and yet shyly, too ; and as he took her hand in his,
the joy with which she regarded him needed no confession
in words — it was written there in the clear tender eyes.
" Indeed I am so glad to see you, Eonald ! " she said.
" I have been so miserable these two days "
" But why ? " he asked.
" I don't know, hardly. I have been wondering whether
I had done right ; and then to go about with my sister,
keeping this secret from her ; and then I was thinking of
the going away back to Inver-Mudal, and never seeing you,
and not knowing how you were getting on. But now —
now that you are here, it seems all quite right and safe.
You look as if you brought good news. What does ho
think, Eonald ? "
" He ? " he repeated. " Who ? "
" The old man out there at Pollokshaws, is it ? "
Ronald laughed.
" Oh, the old gentleman seems pretty confident ; but for
rery shame's sake I had to let him have a holiday to-day.
I am not going over till to-morrow,"
38o WHITE HE A THER
" And he thinks you will pass ? "
" He seems to think so."
" I wish the time were here now, and that it was all well
over," she said. " Oh, I should be so proud, Eonald ; and
it will be something to speak of to every one ; and then —
then that will be but the beginning ; and day by day I shall
be expecting to hear the news. But what a long, long time
it seems to look forward to."
" Ay, lass ; and it will be worse for you than for me ; for
there will be the continual trying and hoping for me, and
for you nothing but the weary waiting. Well "
" Oh, but do you think I am afraid ? " she said bravely.
" No. I have faith in you, Eonald. I know you will do
your best."
" I should deserve to be hanged and buried in a ditch
if I did not," said he. " But we will leave all that for a
while, Meenie ; I Avant you to come for a stroll along the
banks over the Kelvin. Would ye wonder to find some
sea-gulls flying about ? — they're there, though ; or they
were there a week or two ago. And do you know that I
got a glimpse of you at the railway station on Wednesday
morning ? "
" I did not see you, Eonald," she said, with some surprise.
" No, no ; I kept out o' the way. It's not for me, lass,
it's for you to say when any of your folk are to be told
what we are looking forward to ; and for my part I would
as lief wait till I could put a clearer plan before them —
something definite." •
" And that is my opinion too, Eonald," she answered, in
rather a low voice. " Let it be merely an understanding
between you and me. I am content to wait."
"Well, then," said he, as they reached the top of the
high bank overhanging the river, and began to make their
way down the narrow little pathways cut through the trees
and shrubs, " here is a confession : I was so glad to see
you on that morning — and so glad to see you looking so
well — that I half lost my senses, I think ; I went away
through the streets in a kind o' dream ; and, sure as I'm
here, I walked into a public-house and ordered a glass of
whisky "
She looked up in sudden alarm.
A T THE PEAR- TREE WELL 381
" jSTo, no, no," said he contentedly, " you need not fear
that, my good lassie ; it was just that I was bewildered
with having seen ye, and thinking of where ye were going,
I walked out 0' the place without touching it. Ay, and
what think ye 0' Dunoon ? And what kind of a day was it
when ye got out on the Firth ? "
So she began to tell him of all her adventures and ex-
periences ; and by this time they had got down near to the
water's edge ; and here — of what value would his knowledge
of forestry have been otherwise ? — he managed to find a
seat for her. They were quite alone here — the brown river
before them ; several sea-gulls placidly paddling on its
surface, others flying and dipping overhead ; and if this
bank of the stream was in shadow, the other — with some
small green meadows backed by clumps of elms and maples
— was bright and fair enough in the yellow autumn sun-
shine. They were in absolute silence, too, save for the con-
tinual soft murmur of the water, and the occasional whirring
by of a blackbird seeking safety underneath a laurel bush.
"Meenie," said he, putting one hand on her shoulder,
"here are some verses I copied out for ye last night —
they're not much worth — -but they were written a long time
ago, when little did I think I should ever dare to put them
into your hand."
She read them ; and there was a rose colour in her face
as she did so : not that she was proud of their merit, but
because of the revelation they contained.
" A long time ago ? " she said, with averted eyes — but
her heart was beating warmly.
" Oh," he said, " there are dozens and dozens of similar
things, if ever ye care to look at them. It was many a
happy morning on the hill, and many a quiet night at home,
they gave me ; but somehow, lass, now that I look at them,
they hardly seem to grip ye fast enough. I want something
that will bind ye closer to myself — something that ye can
read when you are back in the Highlands — something that
is known only to our two selves. Well, now, these things
that I have written from time to time — you're a long way
off in them somehow — the Meenie that's in them is not
this actual Meenie, warm and kind and generous and
breathing "
382 WHITE HEATHER
"And a little bit happy, Eonald, just at present," she
said, and she took his hand.
" And some day, when I get through with busier work,
I must try to write you something for yourself "
" But, Ronald, all these pieces you speak of belong to
me," she said promptly, " and I want them, every one —
every, every one. Yes, and I specially want that letter — ■
if you have not kept it, then you must remember it, and
write it out for me again "
" I came across it last night," said he, with an embarrassed
laugh. " Indeed I don't wonder you were angry."
" I have told you before, Eonald, that I was not angry,"
she said, with a touch of vexation. " Perhaps I was a little
• — a little frightened — and scarcely knowing how much you
meant ■"
" Well, you know now, Meenie dear ; but last night,
when I was going over those scraps of things, I can tell
you I was inclined to draw back. I kept saying to myself
— ' "What ! is she really going to see herself talked about
in this way ? ' For there's a good deal of love-making in
them, Meenie, and that's a fact ; I knew I could say what
I liked, since no one would be any the wiser, but, last
night, when I looked at some of them, I said — ' No ; I'm
not going to provoke a quarrel with Meenie. She would
fling things about, as the American used to say, if she saw
all this audacious song-writing about her.' "
" I'll chance that quarrel, Ronald," she answered to this,
" for I want every, every, every one of them ; and you must
copy them all, for I am going to take them with me when
I leave Glasgow."
" And, indeed," said he, " you'll understand them better
in the Highlands ; for they're all about Ben Loyal, and the
Mudal, and Loch Naver, and Clebrig."
" And to think you hid them from me all that time ! "
"Why, Meenie darling, you would have called on the
whole population to drive me out of the place if I had
shown them to you. Think of the effect produced by a
single glance at one of them I — you tortured me for weeks
wondering how I had offended you."
" Wen, you can't offend me now, Ronald, that ivay^'' said
she, very prettily.
AT THE PEAR-TREE WELL 383
And so their lovers' talk went on, until it was time for
Meenie to think of returning home. But just beyond these
Botanic Gardens, and down in a secluded nook by the side
of the river, there is a little spring that is variously known
as the Three-Tree Well and the Pear-Tree Well. It is a
limpid little stream, running into the Kelvin ; it rises in a
tiny cavern and flows for a few yards through a cleft in the
rocks. Now these rocks, underneath the overarching trees,
have been worn quite smooth (except where they are scored
with names) by the footsteps of generation after generation
of lovers who, in obedience to an old and fond custom,
have come hither to plight their troth while joining hands
over the brooklet. Properly the two sweethearts, each
standing on one side, ought to join their hands on a Bible
as they vow their vows, and thereafter should break a six-
pence in twain, each carrying away the half ; but these
minor points are not necessary to the efficacy of this prob-
ably pagan rite. And so — supposing that Ronald had heard
of this place of sacred pilgrimage, and had indeed discovered
its whereabouts in his rambles around Glasgow — and sup-
posing him to have got a friendly under-gardener to unlock
a gate in the western palisades of the Gardens — and then,
if he were to ask Meenie to step down to the river-side and
walk along to the hallowed well ? And yet he made of it
no solemn ceremony ; the morning was bright and clear
around them ; and Meenie was rather inclined to smile at
the curious old custom. But she went through it never-
theless ; and then he stept across the rill again ; and said
he —
" There's but this remaining now, Meenie darling — ■' Ae
fond kiss and then we sever,' "
She stepped back in affright.
" Ronald, not with that song on your lips ! Don't you
remember what it goes on to say ? "
" Well, I don't," he answered good-naturedly ; for he had
quoted the phrase at random.
" Why, don't you remember ? — ■
' Had ice never loved sae Ttindly,
Had ice never loved sae blindly,
Never met — or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.'"
384 WHITE HEATHER
"My good-hearted lass," said he, interlinking his arm
with hers, /' ye must not be superstitious. What'3 in a
song ? There'll be no severance betwixt you and me — the
Pear-Tree Well has settled that."
" And that is not at all superstition ? " said she, looking
up with a smile — until she suddenly found her blushing
face overshadowed.
CHAPTER XL.
THE COMING OF TROUBLES.
These were halcyon days. Those two bad arrived at a
pretty accurate understanding of the times of each other's
comings and goings ; and if they coi;ld snatch but five
minutes together, as he was on his way over to the south,
well, that was something ; and not unfrequently the linger-
ing good-bye was lengthened out to a quarter of an hour ;
and then again when high fortune was in the ascendant, a
whole golden hour was theirs — that was as precious as a
year of life. For their hastily-snatched interviews the most
convenient and secret rendezvous Avas Hill Street, Garnet
Hill ; a quiet little thoroughfare, too steep for cabs or
carriages to ascend. And very cheerful and bright and
pleasant this still neighbourhood looked on those October
mornings ; for there was yet some crisp and yellow foliage
on the trees ; and the little patches of green within the
railings lay warm in the light ; and on the northern side of
the street the house-fronts Avere of a comfortable sunny gray.
Ordinarily there were so few people about that these two
could walk hand in hand, if they chose ; or they could
stand still, and converse face to face, when some more than
usually interesting talk was going forward. And it was
quite astonishing what a lot of things they had to say to each
other, and the importance that attached to the very least of
them.
But one piece of news that Meenie brought to these stolen
interviews was by no means insignificant : she was now re-
ceiving marked attentions from a young Glasgow gentleman
— attentions that her sister had perceived at a very early
period, though Meenie had striven to remain blind to them.
THE COMING OF TROUBLES 385
Nor was there anything very singular in this. Mr. Gemmill
was exceedingly proud of his pretty sister-in-law ; he had
asked lots of people to the house for the very purpose of
meeting her ; she was the centre of interest and attraction
at these numerous gatherings ; and what more natural than
that some susceptible youth should have his mind disturbed
by an unwitting glance or two from those clear Highland
eyes ? And what rendered this prospect so pleasing to the
Gemmills was this : the young man who had been stricken
by these unintentional darts was no other than the only son
of the founder of the firm in which Mr. Gemmill was a
junior partner — the old gentleman having retired from the
business some dozen years before, carrying with him a very
substautial fortune indeed, to which this son was sole heir.
In more ways than one this match, if it were to be a match,
would be highly advantageous ; and Mrs. Gemmill, while
saying little, was secretly rejoiced to see everything going
on so well. If Meenie chanced to ask what such and such
a piece was (Mr. Frank Lauder played a little), even that
sliglit expression of interest was inevitably followed by her
receiving the sheet of music by post next morning. Flowers,
again : one cannot very well refuse to accept flowers ; they
are not like other gifts ; they may mean nothing. Then, it
was quite remarkable how often he found himself going to
the very same theatre or the very same concert that the
Gemmills had arranged to take Meenie to ; and naturally — •
as it chanced he had no one going with him — he asked to
be allowed to go with them. He even talked of taking a
seat in j\Iaple Street Church (this was the church that the
Gemmills attended), for he said that he was tired to death of
the preaching of that old fogey, Dr. Tcith, and that Mr.
Smilie's last volume of poems (Mr. Smilie was the Maple
Street Church minister) had aroused in him a great curiosity
to hear his sermons.
And as for j\Ir. Frank Lauder himself — well, he was pretty
much as other young Glasgow n:ien of fashion ; though, to
be sure, these form a race by themselves, and a very curious
race too. They are for the most part a good-natured set of
lads ; free and generous in their ways ; not anything like
the wild Lotharios which, amongst themselves, they profess
to be ; well dressed ; a little lacking in repose of manner ;
2 C
386 WHITE HE A THER
many of them given to boating and yacliting — and some of
them even expert seamen ; nearly all of them fond of airing
a bit of Cockney slang picked up in a London music hall
during a fortnight's visit to town. But their most odd
characteristic is an affectation of knowingness — as if they
had read the book of nature and human nature tlu'ough to
the last chapter ; whereas these well-dressed, good-natured,
but rather brainless young men are as innocently ignorant
of that book as of most other books. Knowing jjut one
language — and that imperfectly — is no doubt a bar to
travel ; but surely nowhere else on the face of the globe
could one find a set of young fellows — with similar oppor-
tunities set before them — content to remain so thoroughly
untutored and untravelled ; and nowhere else a set of youths
Avho, Avhile professing to be men of the world, could show
themselves so absolutely unversed in the world's ways. But
they (or some of them) understand the lines of a yacht ;
and they don't drink champagne as sweet as they used to
do ; and no doubt, as they grow into middle age, they will
throw aside the crude affectations of youth, and assume a
respectable gravity of manner, and eventually become solid
and substantial pillars of the Free, U.P., and Established
Churches.
This Frank Lauder was rather a favourable specimen of
his class ; perhaps, in his extreme desire to ingratiate him-
self with Meenie, he assumed a modesty of demeanour that
was not quite natural to him. But his self-satisfied jocosity,
his mean interpretation of human motives, his familiarly
conventional opinions in all matters connected with the
arts, could not always be hidden beneath this mask of
meekness ; and Meenie's shrewd eyes had discerned clearly
of what kind he was at a very early period of their acquaint-
ance. For one thing, her solitary life in the Highlands
had made of her a diligent and extensive reader ; while her
association with Ronald had taught her keen independence
of judgment ; and she was almost ashamed to find how
absolutely unlettered this youth was, and how he would
feebly try to discover what her opinion was, in order to
express agreement with it. That was not Ronald's way.
Ronald took her sharply to task when she fell away from his
standard — or rather their conjoint standard — in some of
THE COMING OF TROUBLES 387
her small preferences. Even in music, of which this young
gentleman knew a little, his tastes were the tastes of the
mob.
"Why do you always get away from the room when
Mr. Lauder sits down to the piano ? " her sister said, with
some touch of resentment.
" I can endure a little Offenbach," she answered saucily,
" when I'm strong and in good health. But we get a little
too much of it when he comes here."
Of course Ronald was given to know of these visits and
of their obvious aim ; but he did not seem very deeply
concerned.
" You know I can't help it, Ronald," she said, one
morning, as they were slowly climbing the steep little
Randolph Terrace together, her hand resting on his arm,
" I can't tell him to go away while my sister keeps asking
him to the house. They say that a girl can always show
by her manner when any attention is displeasing to her.
AVell, that depends. I can't be downright rude — I am
staying in my sister's house. And then, I wouldn't say he
was conceited — I wouldn't say that, Ronald— but — but he
is pretty well satisfied with himself ; and perhaps not so
sensitive about one's manner towards him as some might
be. As for you, Ronald," she said, with a laugh, " I could
send you flying, like a bolt from a bow, with a single
look."
" Could you, lass ? " said he. " I doubt it. Perhaps I
would refuse to budge. I have got charge of you now."
" Ah, well, I am not likely to try, I think," she continued,
" But about this Mr. Lauder, Ronald — you see, he is a very
important person in Mr. Gemmill's eyes ; for he and his
father have still some interest in the warehouse, I suppose ;
and I know he thinks it is time that j\lr. Gemmill's name
should be mentioned in the firm — not mere " Co." And
that would please Agatha too ; and so they're very polite to
him ; and they expect me to be very polite to him too. A'oa
see, Ronald, 1 can't tell him to go away until he says some-
thing— either to me or to Agatha ; and he won't take a hint,
though he must see that I would rather not have him send
flowers and music and that ; and then, again, I sometimes
think it is not fair to you, Ronald, that I should allow any-
2 C 2
388 WHITE HEATHER
thing of the kind to go on — merely through the difficulty
of speaking "
He stopped, and put his hand over the hand that lay on
his arm : there was not a human being in sight.
" Tell me this, Meenie darling : does his coming to the
house vex you and trouble you ? "
" Oh no — not in the least," said she, blithely and yet
seriously. " I am rather pleased when he comes to the
house. "When he is there of an evening, and I have the
chance of sitting and looking at him, it makes me quite
happy."
This was rather a startling statement, and instantly she
saw a quick, strange look in his eyes.
" But you don't understand, Ronald," she said placidly,
and without taking away her eyes from his. " Every time
I look at him I think of you, and it's the difference that
makes me glad."
Halcyon days indeed ; and Glasgow became a radiant
golden city in this happy autumn time ; and each meeting
Avas sweeter and dearer than its predecessor ; and their twin
lives seemed to be floating along together on a river of joy.
With what a covetous care she treasured up each fragment
of verse he brought her, and hid it away in a little thin
leathern case she had herself made, so that she could wear
it next her heart. He purchased for her little presents —
such as he could afford — to show her that he was thinking
of her on the days when they could not meet ; and when
she took these, and kissed them, it was not of their pecu-
niary value she was thinking. As for her, she had vast
schemes as to what she was going to make for him when
she got back to the Highlands. Here, in Glasgow, nothing
of the kind was possible. Her sister's eyes Avcre too sharp,
and her own time too much occupied. Indeed, what between
the real lover, who was greedy of every moment she could
spare for these secret interviews, and the pscudo lover, who
kept the Queen's Crescent household in a constant turmoil
of engagements and entertainments and visits. Rose Meenie
found the hours sufficiently full ; and the days of her stay
in Glasgow were going by rapidly.
" But Scripture saith, an ending to all line things must
be ; " and the ending, in this case, was the work of the
THE COMING OF TROUBLES 389
widow Meiizies. Kate felt herself at once aggrieved and
perplexed by Ronald's continued absence ; but she was even
more astonished when, on sending to make inquiries, she
found he had left his lodgings and gone elsewhere, leaving
no address. She saw a purpose in this ; she leapt to the
conclusion that a woman had something to do with it ; and
in her jealous auger and mortification she determined 011
leaving no stone unturned to discover his whereabouts.
But her two cronies, Laidlaw and old Jaap (the skipper
was away at sea again), seemed quite powerless to aid her.
They knew that Eouald occasionally used to go over to
Pollokshaws ; but further than that, notliiug. He never
came to the Harmony Club now ; and not one of his former
companions knew anything about him. Old Mr. Jaap
hoped that no harm had come to the lad, whom he liked ;
but Jimmy Laidlaw was none so sorry over this disappear-
ance : he might himself have a better chance Avith the widow,
now that Kate's handsome cousin was out of the way.
It was Kate herself who made the discovery, and that
in the simplest manner possible. She and mother Paterson
had been away somewhere outside the town for a drive ;
and they were returning by the Great Western Road, one
evening towards dusk, when all at once the widow caught
sight of Ronald, at some distance off, and just as he was in
the act of saying good-bye to a woman — to a young girl
apparently. Kate pulled up the cob so suddenly that she
nearly pitched her companion headlong into the street.
" What is it, Katie dear ? "
She did not answer ; she let the cob move forward a
yard or two, so as to get the dog-cart close in by the pave-
ment ; and then she waited — watching with an eager scrntiny
this figure that was now coming along. j\[eenie did not
notice her ; probably the girl was too busy with her own
thoughts ; but these could not have been sad ones, for the
bright young face, with its tender colour rather heightened
by the sharpness of the evening air, seemed happy enough.
" Flying high, he is," was Kate Menzies's inward comment
as she marked the smart costume and the well-bred air and
carriage of this young lady.
And then, the inoment she had passed, Kate said
quickly—
390 WHITE HE A THER
" Here, auntie, take the reins, and wait here. Never
mind how long. He'll no stir ; if you're feared, bid a laddie
stand by his head."
" But what is't, Katie dear ? "
She did not answer ; she got down from the trap ; and
then, at first quicli:ly, and afterwards more cautiously, she
proceeded to follow the girl whom she had seen parting
from Ronald. Nor had she far to go, as it turned out.
Meenie left the main thoroughfare at Melrose Street — Kate
Menzies keeping fairly close up to her now ; and almost
directly after was standing at the door of her sister's house
in Queen's Crescent, waiting for the ringing of the bell to
be answered. It needed no profound detective skill on
the part of Mrs. Menzies to ascertain the number of the
house, so soon as the girl had gone inside ; and thereafter
she hurried back to the dog-cart, and got up, and continued
her driving.
"Well, that bangs Banagher ! " she said, with a loud
laugh, as she smartly touched the cob with the whip. " The
Great Western Pioad, of a' places in the world ! The
Great Western Eoad — and he goes off by the New City
Road — there's a place for twa lovers to forgather !
" UV?Z meet heside tlie dushy glen, on yon hum side,
Wliere the hushes form a cosie den, on yon hum side."
But the Great '\^'estern Road — bless us a', and the laddie
used to write poetry ! "
" But what is it, Katie ? "
" Why, it's Ronald and his lass, woman : didna ye see
them ? Oh ay, he's carried his good looks to a braw
market — set her up wi' her velvet hat and her sealskin
coat, and living in Queen's Crescent forbye. Ay, ay, he's
ta'en his pigs to a braw market "
" It's no possible, Katie dear ! " exclaimed mother
Paterson, who affected to be very much shocked. " Your
cousin Ronald wi' a sweetheart ?^and him so much in-
debted to you "
"The twa canary birds ! " she continued, with mirth that
sounded not quite real. " But never a kiss parting, wi' a'
they folk about. And that's why ye've been hiding your-
self away, my lad ? But I jalouse that that braw young
THE CO.MING OF TROUBLES 391
leddy o' yours would laugh the other side of her month if
her friends were to find out her pranks."
And indeed that was the thought that chiefly occupied
her mind during the rest of tlie drive home. Arrived there,
she called for the Post-Office Directory, and found that the
name of the people living in that house in Queen's Crescent
was Gemmill. She asked her cronies, when they turned
up in the evening, who this Gemmill was ; but neither of
them knew. Accordingly, being left to her own resources,
and without letting even mother Paterson know, she took a
sheet of paper and wrote as follows—
" Sir — Who is the young lady in your house who keeps
appointments with Konald Strang, formerly of Inver-Mudal ?
Keep a better look-out. Yours, A Friend."
And this slie enclosed in an envelope, and directed it to
]Mr. Gemmill of such and such a number, Queen's Crescent,
and herself took it to the post. It was a mere random
shot, for she had nothing to go upon but her own sudden
suspicions ; but she was angry and hot-headed ; and in no
case, she considered, would this do any harm.
She succeeded far better than she could have expected.
Mr. Gemmill handed the anonymous note to his wife with
a brief laugh of derision. But Agatha (who knew more
about Eonald Strang than he) looked startled. She would
not say anything. She would not admit to her husband
that this was anything but an idle piece of malice. Never-
theless, when ]\Ir. Gemmill left for the city, she began to
consider what she should do.
Unfortunately, as it happened that morning, Mecnie just
played into her sister's hand.
" Aggie dear, I am going along to Sauchiehall Street foi-
some more of that crimson wool : can I bring you any-
thing ? "
" No, thank you," she said ; and then instantly it occurred
to her that she would go out and follow her sister, just to
see whether there might be any ground for this anonymous
warning. It certainly was a strange tiling that any one
should know that Meenie and llonald Strang were even
acquainted.
And at first — as she kept a shrewd eye on the girl, whom
she allowed to precede her l)y some distance — all seemed
392 WHITE HE A THER
to go we]]. Meenie looked neither to the right nor to the
left as she walked, with some quickness, along St. George's
Eoad towards Sauchiehall Street. When she reached the
wool shop and entered, Mrs. Gemmill's conscience smote
her — why should she have been so quick to harbour
suspicions of her own sister ? But she would still watch
her on the homeward way — just to make sure.
When Meenie came out again from the shop she looked
at her watch ; and it was clear that she was now quickening
her pace as she set forth. Why this hurry, Mrs. Gemmill
asked herself ? — the girl was not so busy at home. But
the solution of the mystery was soon apparent. Meenie
arrived at the corfier of Hill Street ; gave one quick glance
up the quiet little thoroughfare ; the next moment Mrs.
Gemmill recognised well enough — for she had seen him
once or twice in the Highlands — who this well-built,
straight-limbed young fellow was who was now coming-
down the steep little street at such a swinging pace.
And Meenie went forward to meet him, with her face
upturned to his ; and she put her hand on his arm quite
as if that were her familiar custom ; and away these
two went — slowly, it is true, for the ascent was steep — and
clearly they were Leeding not anything and not anybody
around.
Agatha turned away and went home ; she had seen
enough. To say that she Avas deeply shocked would hardly
be true ; for there are very few young women who have
not, at some time or other in their lives, made an innocent
little arrangement by which they might enjoy an unobserved
interview with the object of theii* choice ; and, if there are
any such extremely proper young persons, Agatha Gemmill
knew that she had not been in the category herself. But
she was resolved upon being both indignant and angry.
It was her duty. There was this girl wilfully throwing
away all the chances of her life. A gamekeeper ! — that
her sister should be for marrying a gamekeeper just at the
time that Mr. Gemmill expected to have his name announced
as a partner in the great firm ! N"ay, she made no doubt
that Meenie had come to Glasgow for the very purpose of
seeking him out. And what was to become of young
Frank Ijauder ? Intleed, by the time Meenie returned
THE COMING OF TROUBLES 393
home, her sister had succeeded in nursing' up a consider-
able voknue of wrath ; for she .considered she was doing
•well to be angry.
But when the battle-royal did begin, it was at first all on
one side. Meenie did not seek to deny anything. She
quite calmly admitted that she meant to marry Ronald,
if ever their circumstances should be so favourable. She
even confessed that she had come to Glasgow in the hope
of seeing him. Had she no shame in making such an
avowal ? — no, she said, she had none ; none at all. And
what had she meant by encouraging Mr. Lauder ? — she
had not encouraged him in any way, she answered ; she
would rather have had none of his attentions.
But it was when the elder sister began to speak angrily
and contemptuously of Ronald that the younger sister's
eyes flashed tire and her lips grew j^ale.
" A gentleman ? " she retorted. " I might marry a gentle-
man ? I tell you there is no such gentleman — in manner,
in disposition, in education — I say there is no such gentle-
man as he is comes to this house ! "
" Deary me ! " said Agatha sarcastically, but she was
rather frightened by this unwonted vehemence. " To think
that a gamekeeper "
" He is not a gamekeeper ! He will never be a game-
keeper again. But if he were, what should I care ? It was
as a gamekeeper that I learnt to know him. It was as a
gamekeeper that I gave him my love. Do you think I
care what occupation he follows when I know what he is
himself 1: "
" Hoity-toity ! Here's romance in the nineteenth cen-
tury ! — and from you, Meenie, that were always such a
sensible girl ! But I'll have nothing to do with it. Back
you pack to the Highlands, and at once ; that's what I have
got to say."
" I am quite willing to go back," the girl said proudly.
" Ah, because you think you will be allowed to write to
him ; and that all the fine courting will go on that way ;
and I've no doubt you're thinking he's going to make money
in Glasgow — for a girl as mad as you seem to be will
believe anything. Well, don't believe iliat. Don't believe
you will have any fine love-making in absence, and all that
394 WHITE HEATHER
kind of stuff. Mother will take good care. I should not
wonder if she sent you to a school in Germany, if the
expense Avere not too great — how would you like that ? "
" But she will not."
"Why, then?"
" Because I will not go."
" Here's bravery ! I suppose you want something more
heroic — drowning yourself because of your lost love — ^or
locking yourself up in a convent to escape from your cruel
parents— something that will make the papers Avi'ite things
about you ? But I think you will find a difference after you
have been two or three months at Inver-Mudal. Perhaps
you will have come to your senses then. Perhaps you will
have learnt what it was to have had a good prospect of
settling yourself in life — with a respectable well-conducted
young man— of good family — the Landers of Craig them-
selves are not in the least ashamed that some of the family
have been in business — yes, you will think of that, and that
you threw the chance away because of an infatuation about
a drunken ne'er-do-weel "
" He is not — he is not ! " she said passionately ; and her
cheeks were white ; but there was something grasping her
heart, and like to -suifocate her, so that she could not pro-
test more.
" Anyway, I will take care that I shall have nothing to
do with it," the elder sister continued ; " and if you should
see him again before you go, I would advise you to bid
him good-bye, for it will be the last time. Mother will
take care of that, or I am mistaken."
She left the room ; and the girl remained alone — proud
and pale and rebellious ; but still with this dreadful weight
upon her heart, of despair and fear that she would not
acknowledge. If only she could see Ronald ! One word
from him — one look — would be enough. But if this were
true ? — if she were never to be allowed to hear from him
again ? — they might even appeal to himself, and Avho could
say what promise they might not extract from him, if they
Avcre sufficiently cunning of approach "i They might say it
Avas for her welfare — they might appeal to his honour — they
might Avin some pledge from him — and she knowing nothing
of it all ! If onlv she could see him for one moment J
IN OTHER CLIMES 395
The very pulses of her blood seemed to keep repeating his
name at every tlirob — yearning towards him, as it were ;
and at last she threw herself down on the sofa and buried
her head in the cushion, and burst into a wild and long-
continued fit of weeping and sobbing. But this in time
lightened the Aveight at her heart, at any rate ; and when
at length she rose — with tear-stained cheeks and tremulous
lips and dishevelled hair— there was still something in her
look that showed that the courage with which she had
faced her sister was not altogether gone ; and soon the lips
had less of tremulousness about them than of a proud
decision ; and there was that in the very calmness of her
demeanour that would have warned all whom it might
concern that the days of her placid and obedient girlhood
were over.
CHAPTEE XLI.
IX OTHEE CLIMES.
IsTever was there a gayer party than this that was walking
from the hotel towards the shores of Lake George, on a
brilliant and blue-skied October morniug. Perhaps the
most demure — or the most professedly demure — was Miss
Carry Hodson herself, who affected to walk apart a little ;
and swung carelessly the fur cape she carried in her hand ;
and refused all kinds of attentions from a tall, lank, long-
haired young man who humbly followed her ; and pre-
tended that she was wholly engrossed with the air of
"i'wj in love, sweet Mistress Frue,
Sooth I can't conceal it ;
My poor heart is brohe in tiro —
You alone can heal it."
As for the others of this light-hearted and laughing group of
young folk, they were these : J^Iiss Kerfoot, a fresh-coloured,
plump, pleasant-looking girl, wearing much elaborate head-
gear rather out of proportion to her stature ; her married
sister, Mrs. Lalor, a grass-widow who was kind enough to
play chaperon to the young people, but whose effective
black eyes had a little trick of roving on their own account
— ^perhaps merely in quest of a joke ; Dr. Thomas P. Tilley,
396 WHITE HEATHER
an adolescent practitioner, who might have inspired a little
more confidence in his patients had he condescended to
powder his profuse chestnut-brown hair ; and, finally, the long
and lank gentleman Avho waited so humbly on Miss Hodson,
and who was Mr. J. C. Huysen, of the Chicago Citizen,
Miss Carry had at length — and after abundant meek inter-
cession and explanations and expressions of remorse —
pardoned the repentant editor for his treatment of Ronald.
It was none of his doing, he vowed and declared. It was
some young jackass whom the proprietors of the paper had
introduced to him. The article had slipped in without his
having seen it first. If only her Scotch friend would write
something more, he would undertake that the Chicago
Citizen would treat it with the greatest respect. And so
forth. Miss Carry Avas for a long time obdurate, and
affected to think that it was poetical jealousy on his part
(for the lank-haired editor had himself in former days written
and published sentimental verse — a fact which was not
forgotten by one or two of the wicked young men on the
staff of the N. Y. Sun Avhen Mr. Huysen adventured into
the stormy arena of politics) ; but in the end she restored
him to favour, and found him more submissive than ever.
And in truth there' was substantial reason for his submis-
sion. The Chicago Citizen paid well enough, no doubt ;
but the editor of that journal had large views ; and Miss
Hodson's husband — if all stories were true — would find
himself in a very enviable position indeed.
" Mayn't I carry your cape for you. Miss Hodson ? " the
tall editor said, in the most pleading way in the world.
" No, I thank you," she answered, civilly enough ; but she
did not turn her head ; and she made believe that her mind
was wholly set on
^^I'm in love, sineet ]\[it-lrcss True,
Suoth I can't conceal it."
This timid prayer and its repulse had not escaped the sharp
observation of Miss Kerfoot.
" Oh," said she, " there's no doing anything with Carry,
ever since we came to Fort George. Nothing's good
enough for her ; the hills are not high enough ; and the
place is iiot wild enough ; and there's no catching of salmon
IN OTHER CLIMES 397
in drenching rain — so there's no amusement for her.
Amusement ? I know where the trouble is ; I know what
amusement she wants ; I know what makes her grumble at
the big hotels, and the decent clothes that people prefer to
wear, and the rattlesnakes, and all the rest. Of course this
lake can't be like the Scotch lake ; there isn't a handsome
young gamekeeper here for her to flirt with. Flirtation,
was it ? "Well, I suppose it was, and no more. I don't
imderstand the manners and customs of savage nations.
Look at her now. Look at that thing on her head. I've
heard of girls wearing true-love knots, and rings, and things
of that kind, to remind them of their sweethearts ; but I
never heard of their going about wearing a yellow Tam-o'-
Shanter."
Miss Carry smiled a superior smile ; she would pay no
heed to these ribald remarks ; apparently she was wholly
engrossed with
"PiH in love, sweet Mistress Friie."
" It isn't fair of you to tell tales out of school, Em,"
the young matron said.
" But I wasn't there. If I liad been, there would have
been a little better behaviour. Why, I never ! Do you know
how they teach girls to use a salmon-rod in that country ? "
The question was addressed to Sir. Huyscn ; but Miss
Kerfoot's eyes were flsed on Miss Carry.
"No, I don't," he answered.
" Oh, you don't know," she said. " You don't know.
Keally. Well, I'll tell you. The gamekeeper — and the
handsomer the better — stands overlooking the girl's
shoulder ; and she holds the rod ; and he grips her hand
and the rod at the same time."
" But I know how," the young Doctor interposed. " See
here — give me your hand — I'll show you in a minute."
" Oh no, you shan't," said she, instantly disengaging
herself ; " this is a respectable country. AVc don't do such
things in New York State. Of course, over there it's
din'erent. Oh yes ; if I were there myself — and — and if
the gamekeeper was handsome enough — and if he asked
me to have a lesson in salmon-fishing — don't you think I
would go ? Why, I should smile ! "
39^ WHITE HE A THER
But here Miss Cany burst out laughing ; for her friend
had been caught. These two girls were in the habit of
talking the direst slang between themselves (and occasionally
Miss Carry practised a little of it on her papa), but this
wickedness they did in secret ; outsiders were not supposed
to know anything of that. And now Dr. Tilley did not
sceiQ very much pleased at hearing Miss Kerfoot say " I
should smile " ; and Miss Kerfoot looked self-conscious and
amused and a little embarrassed ; and Carry kept on
laughing. However, it all blew over ; for now they were
down at the landing stage ; and presently the Doctor
was handing them into the spick and span new cat-boat
that he had just had sent through from New York that
autumn.
Indeed it was a right joyous party tliat now went sailing
out on the clear lapping waters ; for there was a brisk
breeze l^lowing ; and two pairs of sweethearts in one small
boat's cargo make a fair proportion ; and Lake George, in
October, before the leaves are beginning to fall, is just
about as beautiful a place as any one can want. The far
low hills were all red and brown and yellow with maple and
scrub oak, except where the pines and the hemlocks inter-
posed a dark blue-green ; and nearer at hand, on the silvery
surface of the lake, were innumerable small wooded islands,
with a line of white foam along the windward shores ; and
overhead a perfectly cloudless sky of intense and brilliant
blue. And if these were not enough for the gay voyagers,
then there were other things — laughter, sarcasm, subtle
compliments, daring or stolen glances ; until at last the full
tide of joy burst into song. Who can tell which of them it
was that started
" V%f. givine hacJc to Dixie, no more Tse gwine to icander,
My hearths turned hack io Dixie, I canH stay here no longer " ?
No matter ; nor was it of much consequence whether the
words of the song were of a highly intellectual cast, nor
whether the music was of the most distinguished character,
so long as there was a chorus admirably adapted for soprano,
alto, tenor, and bass. It Avas very speedily clear that this
was not the lirst time these four had practised the chorus
(Mrs. Lalor Avas alloAved to come in just Avhere she pleased),
tN OTHER CLIAIES
399
nor was there any great sadness in their interpretation of
the words —
I'se gwine back to Dix - ie, I'se gwine back to
il=^
--ztvmt
-gr— jr
-^T
sHi^EiE3=:
:== — I — ==1^= y=:^:|=:zs==5iz
Dix - ie, I'se gwine where Ihe or - aitge bios - soms grow, . . .
^ -- — : ^^--f 1 1 ^— ] 1 J gi dp ] ^-^B-3B-»d--l
I r— 5 r
. . . For I hear the chil - dren call - ing, I see their sad tears
ii
^=ir-
glii^i^
fall - ing, iMy heart's turn'd back to Dix - ie. And I must go.
:-! — i_n
:*:— ^ * z=^3z:^-=m fjuqiH ',=xrg|j
400 WHITE HE A THER
Ifc is impossible to say how often they repeated the chorus ;
until Mrs. Lalor asked the girls why they were so fond of
singing about orange blossoms, and then presently they
turned to something else.
All this time they were beating up against a stiff but
steady head-wind ; the Doctor at the tiller ; the lank editor
standing by the mast at the bow ; the girls and their
chaperon snugly ensconced in the capacious cock-pit, but
still having to dodge the enormously long boom when the
boat was put about. The women-folk, of course, paid no
attention to the sailing ; they never do ; they were quite
happy in leaving the whole responsibility on the owner of
the craft ; and were entirely wrapped up in their own petty
affairs. Nay, so recklessly inconsiderate were they that
they began to be angry because Dr. Tilley would not get
out his banjo — which was in the tiny cabin, or rather
locker, at the bow. They wanted to sing " Dancing in the
Barn," they said. What was the use of that without a
banjo to play the dance music ?
" Yery well," said the complaisant Doctor, *' we'll run
into some quiet creek in one of the islands ; and then I'll
see what I can do for you."
No, no, they silid ; they wanted to sing sailing ; they
did not wish to go ashore, or near the shore. Well, the
amiable Doctor scarce knew how to please them, for he
could not steer the boat and play the banjo at the same
time ; and he was not sure about entrusting the safety of
so precious a cargo to the uncertain seamanship of the
editor. However, they were now a long way from Fort
George ; they might as well take a run back in that
direction ; and so — the boat having been let away from the
wind and put on a fair course for the distant landing-stage
— Mr. Huysen was called down from the bow and directed
as to how he should steer ; and then the Doctor went
forward and got out the banjo.
Now this " Dancing in the Barn " (the words are idiotie
enough) has a very catching air ; and no sooner had the
Doctor — -who was standing up on the bit of a deck forward,
where Jack Huysen had been — begun the tinkling prelude
than the girls showed little movements of hands and feet,
as if they were performing an imaginary " cake-walk."
m OTHER CLIMES
401
"O/i, ice^ll meet at the hall in the evening,
Kase I love to pass the time away "
— they were all singing at it now ; they did not wait for
any chorus ; and Miss Carry had caught Miss Em's hand,
and Avas holding it on high, and keeping time to the music,
as if she were in reality leading her down the barn.
yjESE
m
:=r^f=
it=:
As we move so grace - fnl - ly.
5"^^
Break.
&^^£
'^
P-q?:
■imS—
:±lf
--S-
rprz
AA-
"ig~P~w
H
t
t
I^^
-x^
We're as hap - py as can
-^^E^^
^^E'^E^iiEE^
^^t^^=l:
±iL=^z=zX.
=t:
I* Nn
r
^^^
:J?=^t
I*— ^:
=S=«^3r^
^^ll^^is-J
^-:e
Den swing your partners all to
i^
3=t
a(31«|-
3r3:— i-^-
ii D
402
WHITE HEATHER
Then came in the, rippling dance— played as a solo on the
banjo ; and so catching was it that the two girls stood np,
and made believe to dance a little. Yon see, the boat was
running free before the wind, and there was scarcely any
appreciable motion, though she was going at a good speed,
for her mainsail was enormously large and the breeze was
brisk.
" I say, Huysen," the Doctor called, while he was playing
the dance, " look what you're about. Never mind the
singing. Keep her bow straight for the landing-stage."
Then the next verse bes'an —
"■ Den u-e's off to icorh in de morning,
Singing as u:e go out to de field,"
and they all went at it with a will,
and then the light rippling dance—
And then the chorus ;
IN OTHER CLIMES
403
i)ANCE. 3
and the Iayo twirls were on their feet again, making believe
to posture a little, while the sharp clear notes of the banjo
tinkled and tinkled, amid the steady swishing noise of the
water along the side of the boat. But all of a sudden there
was a startled cry of warning — the banjo was dropped on
the deck, and the Doctor sprung aft in a vain effort to
check what he had seen was coming ; the next moment the
great boom came heavily swinging along, accelerating its
pace as it went out to leeward, until there was a frightful
2 T) -2
404 WHITE HEATHER
crash that seemed to tear the whole craft to pieces. And
then, in this wild lurch, what had happened ? Tilley was
the first to see. There was something in the water. He
tore <M his coat and slipped over the boat's side — heeding
nothing of the piercing screams of those he had left, but
shaking the wet from his eyes and nose and mouth, and
looking all around him like a Newfoundland dog. Then
he caught sight of a small floating object — some dozen
yards away — and he made for that : it was the yellow
Tam-o'-Shanter, he could see ; then he heard a half-stifled
cry just behind him, and turning round was just able to
catch hold of Carry Hodson before she sank a second time.
However, she was quite passive — perhaps she had been
stunned by a blow from the boom ; and he was an excellent
swimmer ; and he could easily keep her afloat — if only Jack
Huysen knew enough about sailing to get the boat back
speedily. It was in vain to think of swimming with her to
the shore ; the land was too far off ; and the weight of her
wet clothes was increasing. He looked after the boat ; it
seemed a terrible distance away ; but as far as he could
make out — through the water that was blinding his eyes —
they had got her round into the wind again and were no
doubt trying to make for him.
Meanwhile, Jack Huysen had been so thunderstruck by
what had occurred, Avhen his own carelessness or an awkward
gust of wind had caused the great boom to gybe, that for
some seconds he seemed quite paralysed, and of course all
this time the little craft was swinging along before the
breeze. The shrieks of the women bewildered him, more-
over. And then it occurred to him that he must get back
— somehow, anyhow ; and more by instinct than of know-
ledge he jammed down the helm, and rounded the boat into
the wind, where the big sail began to flop about with the
loose mainsheet dragging this way and that. And then
he set about trying little experiments — and in a frantic
nervousness all the same ; he knew, or he discovered, that
he must needs get in the mainsheet ; and eventually the
boat began to make uncertain progress — uncertain, because
he had been terrified, and was afraid to keep proper way on
her, so that she staggered up into the wind incessantly.
But this at all events kept them near the course they had
IN OTHER CLIMES 405
come ; and from time to time she got ahead a bit ; and the
women had ceased their shrieking, and had subsided, the
one into a terrified silence, the other into frantic weeping
and clasping of her hands.
" Can't you — can't you look out ? Why don't you look
out for them ? " he cried, though he scarce knew what he
said, so anxious was he about the tiller and those puffs of
wind that made the boat heel over whenever he allowed the
sail to fill.
And then there was a cry — from Mrs. Lalor.
" Look — look — this way— you're going away from them."
He could only judge by the direction of her gaze ; he put
the boat about. She began to laugh, in a hysterical fashion.
" Oh yes, yes, we are getting nearer — we are getting
nearer — he sees us — Em, Em, look ! — poor Carry ! — Oh,
quick, quick with the boat — quick, quick, quick ! "
l>ut the wringing of her hands was of little avail ; and
indeed when they did eventually draw cautiously close to
the two people in the water, the business of getting them
dragged on board proved a difficult and anxious matter, for
the girl was quite unconscious and lay in their hands like a
corpse. The young Doctor was very much exhausted too ;
but at least he preserved his senses. He sat down for a
minute to recover his breath.
" Jack," he gasped, " put my coat round her — wrap her
warm — Mrs. Lalor, get off her boots and stockings — chafe
her feet and hands — quick."
And then he rose and went to where she was lying and
stooped over her.
"Yes, yes, her heart is beating — come away with that
coat, man."
But it was his own coat that Jack Huysen had quickly
taken off ; and when Carry Hodson was wrapped in it, and
when the women were doing what they could to restore her
circulation, he fetched the other coat for the young Doctor,
and made him put that on, though the latter declared he
was all right now. And then the Doctor took the tiller,
slacked out the mainsheet, and once more they were running
before the wind towards Fort George. Not a word had
been said about the cause of the mishap or its possible
consequences.
4o6 WHITE HEATHER
These at first — and to Jack Huysen's inexpressible joy — •
seemed to be trivial enough. Immediately she had recovered
consciousness she sate up, and began to say a few words —
though with some difficulty ; and indeed, so brave was she,
and so determined to do something to relieve the obvious
anxiety of these good friends of hers, that when at length
they reached the landing-stage and got ashore she declared
that she was quite recovered, that she could walk to the
hotel as well as any of them, that she had never felt better
in her born days. Nay, she made a joke of the whole
matter, and of her heavy skirts, and of the possible contents
of Jack Huysen's coat-pockets ; and when they did reach
the hotel, and when she had changed her wet garments, she
came down again looking perfectly well — if a little bit tired.
It was not until the afternoon that she began to com-
plain of shiverings ; and then again, when dinner time
arrived, Mrs. Lalor came down Avith the message that
Carry had a slight headache, and would rather remain in
her room. Next morning, too, she thought she would
rather not get up ; she had a slight cough, and her breath-
ing was ditiicult ; she had most relief when she lay quite
still.
" What does this mean, Tom ? " Jack Huysen said — and
as if he feared the answer.
" I hope it means nothing at all," was the reply ; but the
young Doctor looked grave, and moved away as if he did
not wish to have any further talking.
However, there was no perceptible change for the worse
that day ; and Miss Carry, Avhen she could speak at all,
said that she was doing very well, and implored them to go
away on their usual excursions, and leave her to herself.
A servant might sit outside in the passage, she said ; if she
Avanted her, she could ring. Of course, this only sufficed
to set Emma Kerfoot into a fit of weeping and sobbing
— that Carry should think them capable of any such
heartlessness.
But on the following morning matters were much more
serious. She could hardly speak at all ; and when she did
manage to utter a few panting words she said it was a pain
in her chest that was troubling her — not much ; no, no,
not much, she said ; she wished they would all go away and
IN OTHER CLIMES 407
amuse themselves ; the pain Avould leave ; she would be all
right by and by.
"Jack, look here," said the young Doctor, when they
were together ; " I'm afraid this is pneumonia — and a sharp
attack too,"
" Is it dangerous ? " Huysen said quickly, and with rather
a pale face.
The answer to this was another question :
" She left her mother at home, didn't she ? "
" Yes," said he breathlessly. " Do you want to send for
her ? But that would be no use. Her mother could nob
travel just now ; she's too much of an invalid ; why, it was
she who sent Carry away on this holiday."
" Her father, then ? "
" Why, yes, he's at home just now. Shall I telegraph
for him ? "
" Xo — not yet — I don't want to frighten her. We'll see
in the morning."
But long before the morning came they discovered how
things were going with her. Late that night Mrs. Lalor,
who had undertaken to sit up till her sister should come
to relieve her, stole noiselessly along to the room of the
latter and woke her.
" Em, darling, who is Ronald ? " she whispered,
" Ilonald ? I don't know," was the answer — for she was
still somewhat confused,
" Carry is asking that one Eonald should be sent for — •
do come and see her, Em — I think she's wandering a little
— she says there's never any luck in the boat except when
Ronald is in it — -I don't understand it at all "
" But I do — I do now," said the girl, as she hastily got
up and put a dressing-gown and some WTaps around her,
" And you'll have to send for the Doctor at once, IMary —
he said he would not be in bed till two. She must be in
a fever — that's delirium — if she thinks she is in the High-
lands again."
And delirium it was, though of no violent kind. No,
she lay quite placidly ; and it was only at times that she
uttered a few indistinct words ; but those around her now
perceived that her brain had mixed up this Lake George
with that other Scotch lake they had heard of, and they
4o8 WHITE HE A THER
guessed that it was about salmon-fishing she was thinking
when she said that it was Ronald that always brought good
luck to the boat.
CHAPTER XLII.
A CEALLEXGE.
On the evening of the day on which Agatha Gemmill had
made her portentous discovery about the secret interviews
between her sister and Ronald, Mr. Gemmill— a little, red-
headed man with shrewd blue eyes — came home in very
good spirits.
" Look here, Aggie — here's an invitation for you," he
was beginning — when he saw that something was wrong.
" What is it now ? " he asked.
And then the story was told him — and not without a
touch of indignation in the telling. But Mr. Gemmill did
not seem so horror-stricken as his wife had expected ; she
began to emphasise the various points ; and was inclined to
be angry with him for his coolness.
" Girls often have fancies like that — you know well
enough, Agatha," he said. " All you have to do is to take
a gentle way with her, and talk common sense to her, and
it will be all right. If you make a row, you will only drive
her into obstinacy. She will listen to reason ; she's not a
fool ; if you take a quiet and gentle way with her "
" A quiet and gentle way ! " his wife exclaimed. " I will
take no way with her at all — not I ! I'm not going to
have any responsibility of the kind. Back she goes to the
Highlands at once — that's all the way I mean to take with
her. See, there's a letter I've -written to mother."
" Then you mean to make a hash of this affair amongst
you," said he, with calm resignation. "You will merely
drive the girl into a corner ; and her pride will keep her
there "
" Oh yes, men always think that women are so easily
persuaded," his wife broke in. " Perhaps you would like
to try arguing with her yourself ? But, any way, I wash
my hands of the whole matter. I shall have her packed off
home at once."
A CHALLENGE 409
" I don't think you will," the husband said quietly. " I
was going to tell you : the Lauders are giving a big dinner-
party on the 27th — that is a fortnight hence ; and here is
an invitation for the three of us ; and Frank Lauder as
good as admitted this morning that the thing was got up
for the very purpose of introducing Meenie to the old folk.
Well, then, I have already written and accepted ; and I
will tell you this — I'm not going to offend the old gentle-
man just because you choose to quarrel with your sister."
" Quarrel ? " she retorted. " Oh yes — she never can do
any wroug. She has made a fool of you Avith her pretty
eyes — as she does to every man that comes to the house.
Why, they're like a set of great babies when she's in the
room ; and you would think from the way they go on that
she was the Queen of Sheba — instead of the ill-tempered
little brat she is."
But Mrs. Gemmill was a sensible woman too.
" Of course we can't offend the old people. She'll have
to stay. But as soon as that is over, off she goes to the
Highlands again ; and there she can stop until she has
recovered her senses."
However, this invitation was but an additional grievance.
She went with it at once to Meenie's room.
" Look at that. Read that."
The girl glanced at the formal note — with no great
interest.
" Do you know what that means ? That was meant to
introduce you to Frank Lauder's family and friends."
" I do not wish to go," Meenie said perversely.
" But you'll have to go, for we have accepted for you.
\Ye can't offend and insult people simply because you are
bent on making a fool of yourself. But this is what I want
to say : I had intended sending you back to Inver-Mudal
at once ; but now you will have to stay with us another
fortnight. Very well, during that time I forbid you to have
any communication with that man, of any kind whatever—
do you hear ? "
She sate silent.
" Do you hear ? "
" Yes, I hoar," she said,
"Well?"
4IO WHITE HEATHER
"Very well."
" But it is not very well," the elder sister said angrily.
" I want to know what you mean to do."
The answer Avas given with perfect calmness.
" I mean to do precisely as I have been doing. I am not
ashamed of anything I have done."
" What ? You are not ashamed ? Do you mean to tell
me that you will keep on meeting that man — in the public
streets — making a spectacle of yourself in the streets of
Glasgow — and bringing disgrace on yourself and your
family ? "
"You are talking like a mad woman," JMeenie said
proudly.
" You will see whether I act like one, I say you shall
not be allowed to misconduct yourself while you are under
this roof- — that I will make sure of."
" What will you do ? " the girl said, in a strangely taunting
tone : indeed, one could scarcely have believed that this
was Meenie that was speaking. " Lock me up in my room ?
they only do that in books. Besides, Mr. Gemmill would
prevent your doing anything so ridiculous."
" Oh, it's he that would come to let you out ? " the elder
sister said. " You've discovered that, have you ? What
more, I wonder ! "
But here the scene, which threatened to become more
and more stormy, came to a sudden end. Tiiere was a
sharp call from below — Mr. Gemmill having doubtless
overheard some of these wild words.
" Agatha, come downstairs at once ! "
So the girl was left once more alone — proud and pale
and trembling a little, but with her mind more obdurate
than ever. Nor would she go down to supper that night.
Mr. Gemmill went twice to the door of her room (his wife
would not budge a foot) and begged her to come down-
stairs. The lirst time she said she did not wish for any
supper. The second time she said that if her conduct
had been so disgraceful she was not fit to associate with
his family. And so, being by nature a kindly-hearted man,
he went away and got some food for her, and carried the
little tray to her room with his own hands — a proceeding that
only made his wife the angrier. Why should she be spoilt
A CHALLENGE 411
and petted with such foolish indulgence ? Starvation was
the best cure for her pride. But of course he was like the
rest of the men — made simpletons of by a pair of girl's
gray eyes.
Alas ! all her pride and courage went from her in the
long dark hours of the night, and her sister's threats
assumed a more definite and terrible meaning. It was true
she had a fortnight's respite — during that fortnight she was
her own mistress and could do as slie pleased — but after ?
Would, she be shut up in that little hamlet in the northern
wilds, with absolutely no means of learning anything about
Ronald, not permitted to mention his name, cut off from
him as though he were in another world ? She saw month
after month go by — or year after year even- — with no word
or message coming to keep alive the fond hope in her
breast. He might even be dead without her knowing.
And how all too short this fortnight seemed, during which
she might still have some chance of seeing him and gaining
from him some assurance with regard to a future that
looked more than ever uncertain and vague.
The next day it had been arranged between them that
they were not to meet, for he was to be at home all that
day and busy ; but her anxiety was too great : she resolved
to go to his lodgings and ask for him. She had never
done that before ; but now the crisis was too serious to let
her heed what any one might say — indeed she did not
think for a moment about it. So all the morning she went
about the house, performing such small duties as had been
entrusted to her, and wondering when the heavy rain would
leave off. At last, about noon, when the dismal skies gave
no sign of clearing, she got her ulster and deerstalker's cap,
put on a thick pair of boots, and, armed with a stout
umbrella, went out into the black and dripping world. No
one had attempted to hinder her.
And yet it was with some curious sense of shame that
she timidly rang the bell when she reached these obscure
lodgings. The door was in a dusky entry ; the landlady
who answered the summons did not notice how the girl's
cheeks were unusually flushed when she asked if Mr.
Ronald Strang were at home,
"• Yes, he is," tlie woman said ; and then she hesitated,
412 WHITE HEATHER
apparently not quite knowing whether slie should ask the
young lady to step in or not.
" Will you tell him that I should like to see him for a
moment — here ! " she said.
In less than a minute Ronald was with her — and he had
brought his cap in his hand ; for he had guessed who this
was ; and instinctively he knew that he could not ask her
to come within doors. But when she said she had something
to say to him, and turned to face the dismal day outside, he
could not but glance at the swimming pavements and the
murky atmosphere.
" On such a morning, Meenie "
" Ob, but I am well wrapped up," she said, quite happily
— for the mere sight of him had restored her courage, " and
you shall have the umbrella — yes — I insist— take it — well,
then, I ask you to take it as a favour, for I am not going
to have you get wet on my account."
Of course he took the umbrella — to hold over her ; and
so they went out into the wet streets.
" I am so glad to see you, Ronald," she said, looking up
with a face that told its own story of joy and confidence ;
" don't blame me ; I have been miserable ; I could not
help coming to ask you for a little — a little comfort, I think,
and hope "
" But what have you been doing to your eyes, Meenie,
darling ? What kind of a look is that in them ? "
" Well, I cried all last night — all the night through, I
believe," said she simply ; but there was no more crying in
her eyes, only light and love and gladness. "And now, the
moment I see you I think I must have been so foolish. The
moment I see you everything seems right ; I am no longer
afraid ; my heart is quite light and hopeful again."
" Ay, and what has been frightening you, then ? "
And then she told him all the story — as they walked
along the wet pavements, with the bedraggled passers-by
hurrying through the rain, and the tramway-cars and
omnibuses and carts and cabs keeping up their unceasing
roar. But Agatha's threats were no longer so terrible to
her — now that she had hold of Ronald's arm ; she glanced
up at him from time to time with eyes full of courage and
confidence ; a single glimpse of him had driven away all
A CHALLENGE 413
these dire spectres and phantoms. Indeed, if the truth
were known, it was he who was most inchned to take this
news seriously ; though, of course, he did not show that to
her. No ; he affected to laugh at the idea that they could
be kept from communicating with each other : if she were
to be sent back to Inver-Mudal, he said, that was only
anticipating what must have happened in any case ; it
would no doubt be a pity to miss these few stolen minutes
from time to time ; but would not that be merely a spur to
further and constant exertion ?
" Ay, lass," said he, " if I could have any reasonable and
fair prospect to put before them, I would just go to your
friends at once ; but all the wishing in the world, and all
the work in the world, will not make next spring come any
the quicker ; and until I'm a certificated forester I'm loth
to bother Lord Ailine, or anybody else, about a place. But
what o' that ? It's not a long time ; and unless Mr.
TVeems is making a desperate fool o' me, I've a good
chance ; and Lord Ailine will do his best for me among
his friends, that I know well. In the meantime, if they will
not let you write to me "
" But, Bonald, how can they help my writing to you, or
coming to see you, if I wish ? "
" I was not thinking of your sister and her folk," he
answered — and he spoke rather gravely. "I was thinking
of your father and mother. Well, it is not a nice thing for
a young lass to be in opposition to her own folk : it's a sore
trouble to both sides ; and though she may be brave
enough at first, time will tell on her — especially when she
sees her own father and mother suffering through her
defiance of them."
" Then I am not to write to you, Eonald, if they say no ?"
she asked quickly, and with her face grown anxious again.
Well, it was a difficult question to answer off-hand ;
and the noise in the streets bothered him ; and he was
terriljly troubled about Meenie having to walk through the
rain and mud.
" Will you do this for me, Meenie ? " he said. " I cannot
bear to have ye getting wet like this. If we w^ere to get
into an omnibus, now, and go down the town, I know a
restaurant where we could go in and have a comfortable
414 WHITE HEATHEk
corner, and be able to talk in peace and quiet. You and
I have never broken bread together, quite by ourselves.
Will you do that "i "
She did not hesitate for a moment.
" Yes — if you think so — if you wish it," she said.
And so they went down to the restaurant, which was
rather a big place, cut into small compartments ; and one
of these they had to themselves, for it was but half-past
twelve- as yet; and by and by a frugal little lunch was
before them. The novelty of the situation was so amusing
— to Moenie at least — that for a time it drove graver
thoughts away altogether. She acted as mistress of the
feast ; and would insist on his having this or that ; and
wondered that he had never even tasted Worcester sauce ;
and was altogether tenderly solicitous about him ; whereas
he, on the other hand, wished not to be bothered by any
of these things, and wanted only to know what Meenie
meant to do when she went back to Inver-Mudal.
"But you must tell me what you would have me do,"
she said timidly.
"Well, I don't want you to quarrel with your mother
and father on my account, and be living in constant
Avretchedness. If they say you are not to write to me,
don't write "
" But you said a little while ago there would be no
difficulty in our hearing from each other," she said, with
Avide open eyes.
" I have been thinking about it, good lass," said he, " and
I don't want you to anger your folk and have a heavy
heart in consequence. In the meantime you must look to
them — you must do what they say. By and by it may be
different ; in the meantime I don't want you to get into
trouble "
" Then it's little you know how this will end, Eonald,"
she said, rather sadly. " I have thought over it more than
you have. If I go back to Inver-Mudal prepared to do
everything they wish me to do — I mean my mother, not
my father, for I don't know what he might say — then it
isn't only that you will never hear from me, and that I
shall never hear a word from you ; there's more than that :
I shall never see you again in this world."
A CHALLENGE 415
He turned very pale ; and, scarcely knowing what he
did, he stretched his hand over the narrow little table, and
seized her hand, and held it firm.
-' I will not let you go, then. I will keep you here in
Glasgow, with me, Meenie. Do you think I can let you go
away for ever ? For you are mine. I don't care who says
ay or no ; you are mine ; my own true-hearted girl ; the
man or woman is not born that will sunder us two."
Of course he had to speak in a low tone ; but the grip
of his hand was sufficient emphasis. And then he said,
regarding her earnestly and yet half-hesitatingly —
"There is one way that Avould give you the right to
judge what was best for yourself — that would give you
the right to act or say what you pleased — even to leave
your father's house, if that was necessary. Will you
become my wife, Meenie, before you go back to Inver-
Mudal ? "
She started, as well she might ; but he held her hand
firm.
" The thing is simple. There is my brother the minister.
We could walk over to his house, go through the ceremony
in a few minutes, and you could go back to your sister's,
and no one be a bit the wiser. And then surely you would
be less anxious about the future ; and if you thought it
right to send me a letter, you would be your own mistress
as to that "
" It's a terrible thing, Ronald ! "
" I don't see that, Meenie, dear ; I've heard of more
tliau one youug couple taking their fate in their own
hand that way. And there's one thing about it — it ' maks
sikker.' "
They had some anxious talk over this sudden project —
he eager, she frightened — until the restaurant began to get
crowded with its usual middle-day customers. Then Ronald
paid his modest score, and they left ; and now, as they
made away for the western districts of the city, the day was
clearing up somewhat, and at times a pale silvery gleam
shone along the Avet pavements. And still Meenie was
undecided ; and sometimes she would timidly steal a glance
at him, as if to assure herself and gain courage ; and some-
times she would wi^^tfully look away along this busy Sauehie-
4i6 WHITE HEATHER
hall Street, as if her future and all the coming years were
somehow at the end of it. As for him, now that he had
hit upon this daring project, he was eager in defence of it ;
and urged her to give her consent there and then ; and
laboured to prove to her how much happier she would be
at Inver-Mudal — no matter what silence or space of time
might interpose between them — Avith the knowledge that
this indissoluble bond united them. Meenie remained
silent for the most part, with wistful eyes ; but she clung to
his arm as if for protection ; and they did not hasten their
steps on their homeward way.
When they parted she had neither said yes nor no ; but
she had promised to write to him that night, and let him
know her decision. And in the morning, he got this brief
message — the handwriting was not a little shaky, but he had
scarcely time to notice that, so rapid was the glance he
threw over the trembling lines : —
" Dear Eoxald — If it can be done quite, quite secretly
—yes. " L. M."
The signature, it may be explained, consisted of the
initials of a pet name that he had bestowed on her. She
had found it lirst of all in some of those idle verses that he
now copied out for her from time to time ; and she had
asked him how he liad dared to address her in tliat way,
while as yet they were but the merest acquaintances. How-
ever, she did not seem very angry.
CHAPTER XLIII.
A Wedding.
This golden-radiant city of Glasgow ! — with its thousand
thousand activities all awakening to join the noise and din
of the joyous morning, and its over-arching skies full of a
white light of hope and gladness and fair assurance of the
future. The clerks and warehousemen were hurrying by to
their desks and counters ; work-folk were leisurely getting
home for their well-earned breakfast ; smart young men and
slim-waisted women were already setting the shop windows
A WEDDING 417
to i'iL,4its ; great lorries ^Yere clattering their loads of long
iron bars through the crowded streets ; and omnibuses and
tramway-cars and railway-trains were bringing in from all
points of the compass their humming freight of eager human
bees to this mighty and dusky hive. But dusky it did not
appear to him, as he was speedily making his way across
the town towards his brother's house. It was all transfigured
and glorified — the interminable thoroughfares, the sky-
piercing chimneys, the masses of warehouses, the overhead
network of telegraph-lines, the red-funnelled steamers moving
slowly away through the pale blue mist of the Broomielaw :
all these were spectral in a strange kind of way, and yet
beautiful ; and he could not but think that the great mass
of this busy multitude was well content with the pleasant
morning, and the nebulous pale-golden sunlight, and the
glimpses of long cirrus cloud hanging far above the city's
smoke. For the moment he had ceased to hang his happi-
ness on the chance of his succeeding with the Highland and
Agricultural Society. Something far more important — and
wonderful — was about to happen. He was about to secure
Meenie to himself for ever and ever. Xot a certificate in
forestry, but Meenie's marriage-lines — that was what would
be in his pocket soon ! And after ?— well, the long months,
or even years, might have to go by ; and she might be far
enough away from him, and condemned to silence — but
she would be his wife.
And then, just as he had reached the south side of the
river, he paused — paused abruptly, as if he had been struck.
For it had suddenly occurred to him that perhaps, after all,
this fine project was not feasible. He had been all intent
on gaining Meenie's acquiescence ; and, having got that,
had thought of nothing but winning over the Reverend
Andrew into being an accomplice ; but now he was quickly
brought up by this unforeseen obstacle — could Meenie, not
being yet twenty-one, go through even this formal ceremony
without the consent of her parents ? It seemed to him
that she could not — from his reading of books. He knew
nothing of the marriage law of Scotland ; but it appeared
to him, from what he could recollect of his reading, that a
girl under twenty-one could not marry without her parents'
consent. And this was but the letting in of waters. There
2 E
41 8 WHITE HEATHER
were all kinds of other things — the necessity of having lived
a certain time in this or that parish ; the proclamation of
banns — which would be merely an invitation to her relatives
to interfere ; and so on. He resumed his walk ; but with
less of gay assurance. He could only endeavour to fortify
himself with the reflection that in the one or two instances
of which he had heard of this very thing being done the
young people had been completely successful and had kept
their secret until they judged the time fitting for the dis-
closing of it.
When he reached his brother's house, the Eeverend
Andrew was in his study, engaged in the composition of
the following Sunday's sermon ; he was seated at a little
table near the fire ; a pot of tea on the chimney-piece ; a
large Bible and Cruden's Concordance lying open on the
sofa beside him. The heavy, bilious-hued man rose leisurely,
and rubbed his purplish hands, and put them. underneath
his coat-tails, as he turned his back to the fire, and stood on
the hearth-rug, regarding his brother.
" Well, Ronald, lad, ye're not frightened for a cold
morning, to come out with a jacket like that."
" The morning's well enough," said Ronald briefly ; and
forthwith he laid before his brother the errand on which he
had come, and besought his assistance, if that were practi-
cable. He told the story simply and concisely ; not plead-
ing any justification ; but rather leaving the facts to speak
for themselves. And would his brother help ? — in other
words, supposing there were no other obstacle in the way,
would Andrew perform this ceremony for them, and so
render their future proof against all contingencies ? He
was not asked for any advice ; he was not asked to assume
any responsibility ; would he merely exercise this clerical
function of his on their behalf — seeing how urgent matters
were ?
The Reverend Andrew was very much puzzled, not to say
perturbed. He began to walk up and down the room ;
his head bent forward, his hands still underneath his
coat-tails.
" You put me in a box, Ronald, and that's a fact," said
he. " I'm thinking my wishes as a brother will be for set-
ting themselves up against my duty as a minister of the
A WEDDING 4.19
Gospel, For I dare not counsel any j'oung girl to defy the
authority of her own people "
" She has not asked you for any counsel," Ronald said
curtly. " And besides we don't know what the authority
might be. I dare say, if her father knew all the circum-
stances, he would be on our side ; and I suppose he has as
muchright to speak as her little spitfire of a mother."
This was hard on Mrs. Douglas, who had always treated
Ronald with courtesy — if of a lofty and distant kind ; but
impetuous young people, when their own interests are at
stake, are seldom just to their elders. However, the Rev-
erend Andrew now began to say that, if he were altogether
an outsider, nothing would give hiui greater pleasure than
to sec this wish of his brother's accomplished. He had
observed much, he said ; he had heard more ; he knew the
saving iufiuence that this gij-l bad exercised on Ronald's
life ; he could pray for nothing better than that these two
should be joined in lawful bonds, towards the strengthening
of each other, and the establishment of a mutual hope and
trust.
" But it would never do for me to be mixed up in it,
Rouald," he continued. "When it came to be known,
think of what ill-minded folk might say. I must have
regard to my congregation as well as to myself ; and what
if they were to accuse me of taking part in a conspiracy ? "
" A conspiracy ? " Ronald repeated sharply. " What
kind of a conspiracy ? To steal away a rich heiress — is
that it ? God bless me, the lass has nothing beyond what
she stands up in ! There's the sealskin coat Glengask gave
her ; they can have that back, and welcome. AVhat con-
spiracy would ye make out ? "
" No, no, lad ; I'm thinking what ill tongues might say."
" TiCt them lick their own venom till they rot ! What
care I ?" ^^, , "
'• Yes, yes, yes, lad ; but ye're not a placed minister ;
ye've but yourself and her to think of. Now, just wait a
bit."
He had gone back to his chair by the fire, and was
seated there, staring into the red coals.
" I suppose you've heard of Dugald Manuering, of
Airdrie ? " he said, at length.
2 E 2
420 WHITE HE A THER
" Yes, indeed," was the answer. " Meenie — that is — •
Miss Donglas and I went to hear him the Sunday before
last, but there was not a seat to be got anywhere— no, nor
standing-room either."
This ]Mr. Maunering was a young divine of the U.P.
Church who had an extraordinary popularity at this time
among the young people of the south of Scotland, and
especially the young people of Glasgow, and that from a
variety of causes. He was a singularly eloquent preacher —
flowing, ornate, and poetical ; he was entirely unconven-
tional, not to say daring, in his choice of subjects ; his
(juotations were as commonly from Shakes^x-'are and Cole-
lidge and Byron and Browning as from the usual pulpit
authorities ; he was exceedingly handsome, and rather
delicate-looking — pale and large-eyed and long-haired ; and
he had refused the most flattering offers — ■" calls " is the
proper word — from various west-end congregations of
Glasgow, because he considered it his duty to remain
among the mining-folk of Airdrie. When he did accept
an invitation to preach in this or that city church, the
young people from far and near came flocking to hear him ;
and a good many of their elders too, though these were not
without certain prickings of conscience as to the propriety
of devoting the Lord's day to what was remarkably like a
revel in pure literature.
" Dugald's coming over here this afternoon," the elder
brother continued, as if he were communing with himself.
" He's an enthusiastic kind of fellow — he'll stick at nothing,
if he thinks it's right. I wish, now, I had that portrait —
but ]\raggie's away to school by this time ^"
" What portrait ? " Eonald asked.
Thfe Eeverend Andrew did not answer, but rose, and
slowly and thoughtfully left the room. When he came back
he had in his hand a photograph of Meenie framed in a
little frame of crimson velvet, and that he put on the table :
Ronald recognised it swiftly enough.
" He has got an eye for a handsome young lass, has
Dugald," the minister said shrewdly. " I'll just have that
lying about, as it were. Ay, it's a straightforward, frank
face, that ; and one that has nothing to hide. I'll just
have it lying about when Dugald comes over this after-
A WEDDING 421
uoon, and see if he doesna pick it up and have a good
look at it."
" But what mean ye, Andrew ? " his brother said.
" Why, then, lad, I think I'll just tell Dugald the whole
story ; and if he's not as hot-headed as any of ye to carry
the thing through, I'll be surprised. And I suppose if he
marries ye, that's just as good as any one else ? — for to
tell you the truth, Ronald, I would rather not be mixed up
in it myself."
" And the banns ? " said Ronald quickly. " And the
length of time in the parish ? And the consent of her
mother and father ? "
The minister waved his hand with a superior air ; these
were trivial things, not to say popular errors ; what had
been of real consequence was the extent to which he dared
implicate himself.
" I will not say," he observed slowly, "that I might not,
in other circumstances, have preferred the pablication of
banns. It would have been more in order, and more
seemly ; for I do not like the interference of the secular
arm in what should be a solely sacred office. Besides that,
there is even a premium put on publicity, as is right ; five
shillings for the one proclamation, but only half-a-crown if
you have them proclaimed two following Sundays. Well,
well, we mustn't complain ; I see sufficient reason ; from
all I can learn — and you were ever a truth-teller, Ronald,
in season and out of season, as well I mind — it seems to
me you are fulfilling the laws of God, and breaking none of
man's making ; so just you go to the Registrar of the parish,
and give him the particulars, and deposit a half-crown as
the worthy man's fee, and then, eight days hence, you call
on him again, and he'll give you a certificate entitling you
to be married in any house or church in the Kingdom of
Scotland. And if there's no other place handy, ye're wel-
come to the room you're standing in at this minute ; though
I would as lief have the marriage take place anywhere else,
and that's the truth, Ronald ; for although I can defend
what little I have done to my own conscience, I'm no sure
I should like to stand against the clishmaclavers of a lot of
old wives."
" Where am I to find the Registrar, Andrew?" he asked :
422 WHITE HEATHER
he was a little bewildered by the rapidity Avitli which this
crisis seemed approaching.
" I suppose you've a good Scotch tongue in your head,
and can ask for the loan of a Directory," was the laconic
answer. The Reverend Andrew had taken up the photo-
graph again, and was regarding it. " An honest, sweet face ;
as pretty a lass as ever a man was asked to work and strive
for and to win. Well, I do not wonder, Eonald, lad — with
such a prize before you But off you go now, for 1
must get to my work again ; and if you come over and have
a cup of tea in the afternoon, between four and five, I
suppose Dugald Mannering will be here, and maybe ye'll be
the best hand to explain the whole situation of affairs."
And so Ronald left to seek out the Registrar ; and as
he went away through the busy and sunlit streets, he was
asking himself if there was not one of all those people who
could guess the secret that he carried with him in his bosom,
and that kept his heart warm there.
The Rev. Dugald Mannering, as it turned out, was not
nearly so eager and enthusiastic as Ronald's brother had
prophesied ; for it behoves a youthful divine to maintain a
serious and deliberative countenance, when weighty matters
are put before him for judgment. But afterwards, when the
two young men were together walking away home through
the dusky streets of Glasgow, the U.P. minister became
m.uch more frank and friendly and communicative.
" I see your brother's position well enough, ]\Ir. Strang,"
said he. " I can understand his diffidence ; and it is but
right that he should be anxious not to give the envious and
ill-natured a chance of talking. He is willing to let the
ceremony take place in his house, because you are his
brother. If I were you, I would rather have it take place
anywhere else — ^both as being fairer to him, and as being
more likely to ensure secrecy, which you seem to think
necessary."
Ronald's face burned red : should he have to ask Meenie
to come to his humVile lodgings, with the wondering, and
perhaps discontented and suspicious, landlady, as sole on-
looker ?
" AVell, now," the young preacher continued, " when I
come to Glasgow, there are two old maiden aunts of mine
A WEDDING ^423
who are good enough to put me up. They live in Rose
Street, Garnethill ; and they're very kind old people. Now
I shouldn't wonder at all if they took it into their head to
befriend the young lady on this occasion — I mean, if you
will allow me to mention the circumstances to them ; indeed,
I am sure they would ; probably they would be delighted ;
indeed I can imagine their experiencing a fearful joy on
finding this piece of romance suddenly tumbling into the
middle of their prim and methodical lives. The dear old
creatures ! — I will answer for them. I will talk to them as
soon as I get home now. And do you think you could per-
suade Miss Douglas to call on them ? "
Ronald hesitated.
" If they were to send her a message, perhaps "
"When are you likely to see her ? "
" To-morrow morning, at eleven," he said promptly.
" Very well. I will get one of the old ladies to write a
little note to Miss Douglas ; and I will post it to you to-
night ; and to-morrow morning, if she is so inclined, bring
her along and introduce yourself and her — will you ? I shall
be there, so there won't be any awkwardness ; and I would
not hurry you, but I've to get back to Airdrie to-morrow
afternoon. Is it a bargain ? "
" So far as I am concerned — yes ; and many thanks to
ye," Ronald said, as he bade his companion good-bye and
went away home to his solitary lodgings.
But when, the next morning, in Randolph Terrace — and
after he had rapidly told lier all that had happened — he
suggested that she should there and then go along and call
on the Misses Manuering, IMeenie started back in a kind of
fright, and a flush of embarrassment overspread her face.
And why — why — he asked, in wonder.
" Oh, Ronald," she said, glancing hurriedly at her costume,
" these — these are the first of your friends you have asked
me to go to see, and do you think I could go like tJm ? "
" This " meant that she had on a plain and serviceable
ulster, a smart little hat with a ptarmigan's wing on it, a
pair of not over-new gloves, and so forth. Ronald was
amazed. He considered that JMeenie was always a wonder
of neatness and symmetry, no matter how she was attired.
And to think that any one might find fault with her !
424 WHtTE HEATHER
" Besides, they're not my friends," lie exclaimed, *' I
never saw them in my life."
" They know Avho your brother is," she said. " Do you
think I would give any one occasion to say you were marry-
ing a slattern ? Just look."
She held out her hands ; the gloves were certainly worn.
" Take them off, and show them the prettiest-shaped
hands in Glasgow town," said he.
" And my hair — I know it is all rough and untidy — isn't
it now ? " she said, feeling about the rim of her hat.
"Well, it is a little," he confessed, " only it's far prettier
that way than any other."
" Eonald," she pleaded, " some other time — on Friday
morning — will Friday morning do ? "
" Oh, I know^ what you want," said he. " You want to
go and get on your sealskin coat and your velvet hat and a
new pair of gloves and all the rest ; and do you know what
the old ladies are like to say when they see you ? — they'll
say, ' Here's a swell young madam to be thinking of marry-
ing a man that may have but a couple o' pounds a week or
so at first to keep house on.' "
" Oh, will they think that ? " she said quickly. " Well,
ril — I'll go now, Eonald — but please make my hair smooth
behind — and is my collar all right "i "
And yet it was not such a very dreadful interview, after
all ; for the two old dames made a mighty fuss over this
pretty young creature ; and vied with each other in petting
her, and cheering her, and counselling her ; and w'hen the
great event was spoken of in which they also were to play
a part they affected to talk in a lower tone of voice, as if it
were something mysterious and tragic and demanding the
greatest caution and circumspection. As for the young
minister, he sate rather apart, and allowed his large soft eyes
to dwell upon JMeenie, with something of wistfulness in his
look. He could do so with impunity, in truth, for the old
ladies entirely monopolised her. They patted her on the
shoulder, to give her courage ; they spoke as if they them-
selves had gone through the wedding ceremony a hundred
times. Was she sure she would rather have no other wit-
nesses ? Would she stand up at the head of the room
now, and they would show her all she would have to do ?
A WEDDING 425
And they stroked lier hand ; and purred about her ; and
were mysteriously elated over their share in this romantic
business ; insomuch that they altogether forgot Eonald —
Avho was left to talk politics with the absent-eyed young
parson.
Between this interview and the formal wedding a whole
week had to elapse ; and during that time Agatha Gemmill
saw fit to deal in quite a different way with her sister. She
was trying reason now, and persuasion, and entreaty ; and
that at least was more agreeable to Meenie than being
driven into a position of angry antagonism. Moreover,
Meenie did not seek to vaunt her self-Avill and independ-
ence too openly. Her meetings with Eonald were few ;
and she made no ostentatious parade of them. She was
civil to ]\Ir. Frank Lauder when he came to the house.
Indeed, jMr. Gremmill, Avho arrogated to himself the success
of this milder method of treating the girl, was bold enough
to declare that everything was going on well ; Meenie had
as much common sense as most folk ; she A\'as not likely
to throw herself away ; and when once she had seen old
Mr. Lauder's spacious mansion, and picture galleries, and
what not, and observed the style in which the family lived,
he made no doubt but that they would soon have to wel-
come Frank liauder as a brother-in-law.
Trembling, flushed at times, and pale at others, and
clinging nervously to Ronald's arm, Meenie made her way
up this cold stone staircase in Garnethill, and breathless
and agitated she stood on the landing, while he rang the
bell.
" Oh, Ronald, I hope I am doing right," she murmured.
" We will let the future be the judge of that, my good
girl," he said, with modest confidence.
The old dames almost smothered her with their atten-
tions and kindness ; and they had a bouquet for her — all
in white, as became a bride ; and they had prepared other
little nick-nacks for her adornment, so that they had to
carry her off to their own room, for the donning of these.
And when they Ijronght her back — rose-red she was, and
timid, and trembling — each of them had one of her hands,
as if she was to be their gift to give away ; and very im-
portant and mysterious were they about the shutting of the
426 WHITE HEATHER
doors, and the conducting the conversation in Avhispers.
Then the minister came forward, and showed them with a
little gesture of his hand where they should stand before him.
The ceremonial of a Scotch wedding is of the simplest ;
but the address to the young people thus entering life
together may be just anything you please. And in truth
there was a good deal more of poetry than of theology in
these mellifluent sentences of the Rev. Mr. Mannering's, as
he spoke of the obligations incurred by two young folk
separating themselves from all others and resolved upon
going through the world's joys and sorrows always side by
side ; and the old dames were much affected ; and when
he went on to quote the verses,
" And OH her lover's arm slie leant.
And round Iter icaid she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they iveut
la that new Korld icliich is the old,"
they never thought of asking whether the lines were quite
apposite ; they were sobbing unaffectedly and profusely ;
and Meenie's eyes were rather wet too. And then, when it
was all over, they caught her to their arms as if she had
been their own ; and would lead her to the sofa, and over-
whelm her with all kinds of little attentions and caresses.
Cake and wine, too — of course she must have some cake
and mne !
" Should I, Ronald ? " she said, looking up, Avith her
eyes all wet and shining and laughing : it was her first
appeal to the authority ot^ her husband.
" x\s you like — as you like, surely."
But when they came to him he gently refused.
" Not on your wedding day ! " the old ladies exclaimed — ■
and then he raised the glass to his lips ; and they did not
notice that he had not touched it when he put it down
again.
And so these two were married now — whatever the
future might have in store for them ; and in a brief space
of time — as soon, indeed, as she could tear herself away
from these kind friends, she had dispossessed herself of
her little bits of bridal finery ; and had bade a long and
lingering good-bye to Ronald ; and was stealing back to
her sister's house. - • ■
IN DARKENED WAYS 427
CHAPTER XLIY.
IN DAEKENED WAYS.
It was with feelings not to be envied that Jack Huysen
stalked up and down the verandah in front of this Fort
George hotel, or haunted the long, echoing corridors, eager
to question any one who had access to the sick room. AH
the mischief seemed to be of bis doing ; all the help and
counsel and direction in this time of distress seemed to be
afforded by his friend Tilley. It was he — that is, Huysen
— whose carelessness had led to the boating catastrophe ;
it was the young Doctor who had plunged into the lake
and saved Carry's life. Not only that, but it was on his
shoulders that there now seemed to rest the burden of
saving her a second time ; for she had gone from bad to
worse ; the fever had increased rapidly ; and while Doctor
Tilley was here, there, and everywhere in his quiet but per-
sistent activity, taking elaborate precautions about the
temperature of the room, instructing the two trained nurses
whom he had telegraphed for from New York, and pacify-
ing the mental vagaries of the patient as best he might,
what could Jack Huysen do but wander about like an
uneasy spirit, accusing himself of having wrought all this
evil, and desperately conscious that he conld be of no use
whatever in mitigating its results.
She was not always delirious. For the most part she lay
moaning slightly, breathing with the greatest difficulty, and
complaining of that constant paiu in her chest ; while her
high pulse and temperature told how the fever was rather
gaining upon her than abating. But then again, at times,
her face would grow flushed ; and the beautiful soft black
eyes would grow strangely bright ; and she would talk in
panting whispers, in an eager kind of way, and as if she
had some secret to tell. And always the same delusion
occupied her mind — that this was Loch Naver ; that they
had got into trouble somehow, because Ronald was not
in the boat ; that they had sent for Ronald, but he
had gone away ; and so forth. And sometimes she
uttered bitter reproaches ; Ronald had been ill-treated by
some one ; nay, she herself had been to blame ; ajid who
428 WHITE HE A THEk
was to make np to him for what he had suffered at her
hands ?
" Not that he cared," she said, rather proudly aud con-
temptuously, one hushed evening that the Doctor was
trying to soothe her into (|uietude. " No, no. Ronald care
what a conceited scribbling schoolboy said about him ?
No ! I should think not. Perhaps he never knew — indeed,
I think he never knew. He never knew that all our friends
in Chicago were asked to look on and see him lectured,
and patronised, and examined. Oh ! so clever the news-
paper-writer was — with his airs of criticism and patronage !
But the coward that he was — the coward — to strike in the
dark — to sit in his little den and strike in the dark I Why
didn't Jack Huysen drag him out ? Why didn't he make
hun sign his name, that we could tell who this was with his
braggart airs ? The coward ! Why, Ronald would have
felled him ! No ! no ! He would not have looked the
way the poor pretentious fool was going. He would have
laughed. Doctor, do you know who he was ? Did you
ever meet him ? "
" But who, Miss Carry ? " he said, as he patted her hot
hand.
She looked at him wonderingly.
" Why, don't you know ? Did you never hear ? The
miserable creature that was allowed to speak ill of our
Ronald. Ah ! do you think I have forgotten ? Does Jack
Huysen think I have forgotten ? No, I will not forget — •
you can tell him, I will not forget — I will not forget — I will
not forget — "
She was growing more and more vehement ; and to
pacify her he had to assure her that he himself would see
this matter put straight ; and that it was all right, and that
ample amends would be made.
Of course, he paid no great attention to these delirious
wanderings ; but that same evening, when he had gone into
the smoking-room to report to Jack Huysen how things
were going, this complaint of IMiss Carry's happened to
recur to his mind.
" Look here, Jack, what's this that she's always talking
about — seems to worry her a good deal— some newspaper
article — and you're mixed up in it, too — something you
IN DARKENED WAYS 429
appear to have said or clone about that fellow her father
took sucli a fancy for — I mean, when they were in Scot;-
land- "
" Oh, I know," said the editor, and he blushed to the
very roots of his long-flowing hair. " I know. But it's an
old story. It's all forgotten now."
"Well, it is not," the young Doctor said, "and that's the
fact. She worries about it continually. Very strange, now,
how her mind just happened to take that bent. I don't
remember that we were talking much about the Scotch
Highlands. But they must have been in her head when she
fell ill ; and now it's nothing else. Well, what is it about
the newspaper article, anyway ? "
"Why, nothing to make a fuss about," Jack Huysen said,
but rather uneasily. " I thought it was all forgotten. She
said as much. Wonder you don't remember the article —
suppose you missed it — but it was about this same High-
land fellow, and some verses of his — it was young Eegan
wrote it — confound him, I'd have kicked him into Lake
Michigan before I let him write a line in the paper, if I'd
have known there was going to be this trouble about it.
And I don't think now there w^as much to find fault with —
I only glanced over it before sending it to her, and it
seemed to mc favourable enough — of course, there was a
little of the de haut en has business — you know how young
fellows like to write — but it was favourable — very favour-
able, I should say — however, she chose to work up a pretty
high old row on the strength of it when she came home,
and I had my work cut out for me before I could pacify
her. Wliy, you don't say she's at that again ? Women are
such curious creatures ; they hold on to things so ; I wonder,
now, why it is she takes such an interest in that fellow —
after all this time ? "
" Just as likely as not the merest coincidence- — some
trifle that got hold of her brain when she first became
delirious," the young Doctor said. " I suppose the boating,
and the lake, and all that, brought back recollections of the
Highlands ; and she seems to have been fascinated by the
life over there — the wildness of it caught her imagination,
I suppose. She must have been in considerable danger
ouce or twice, I should guess ; or perhaps she is mixing
430 WHITE HE A THER
that up with the mishap of tlie other day. AYell, I know I
wish her father were here. We can't do more than what
is being done ; still, I wish he were here. If he can get
through to Glen Falls to-night, you may depend on it he'll
come along somehow."
By this time Jack Huysen was nervously pacing up
and down — there was no one but themselves in the
room,
" Now, look here, Tom," he said, presently, " I wish you
would tell me, honour bright : was it a squall that caught
the boat, or was it downright carelessness on my part ? I
may as well know. I can't take more shame to myself
anyhow — and to let you jump in after her, too, when I'm a
better swimmer than you are — I must have lost my head
altogether — — "
" And much good you'd have done if you had jumped
iu," the Doctor said, " and left the two women to manage
the boat. How should we have got picked up, then ? "
" But about that gybing, now — was it my fault ? "
" No, it was mine," the Doctor said curtly. " I shouldn't
have given up the tiller. Fact is, the girls were just mad
about that ' Dancing iu the Barn ' ; and I was fool
enough to yield to them. I tell you. Jack, it isn't half as
easy as it looks steering a boat that's running fair before
the wind ; I don't blame you at all ; I dare say there was
a nasty puff that caught you when you Averen't looking ;
anyhow, it's a blessing no one was hit by the boom — that
was what I feared at first for Miss Hodson when I found
her insensible — I was afraid she had been hit about the
head "
" And you don't think it was absolute carelessness ? " the
other said quickly. " Mind, I was steering straight for the
pier, as you said."
" Oh, well," said the young Doctor evasively, " if you had
noticed in time, you know — or when I called to you — but
perhaps it was too late then. It's no use going back on
that now ; what we have to do now is to fight this fever as
well as we can."
" I would take it over from her if I could," Jack Huysen
said, " and willingly enough."
It was not until early the next morning that Mr. Hodson
IN DARKENED WAYS 431
aiTivcd. He looked dreadfully jialc and harassed and
fatigued ; for the fact was he was not in Chicago when
they telegraphed for him ; some business affairs had called
him away to the south ; and the news of his daughter's
iliness followed him from place to place until it found
him in a remote corner of Louisiana, whence he had
travelled night and day without giving himself an hour's
rest. And now he would not stay to dip his hands and
face in cold water after his long and anxious journey ;
he merely asked a few hurried questions of the Doctor ;
and then, stealthily and on tip-toe, and determined to
show no sign of alarm or perturbation, he went into
Carry's room.
She had been very delirious during the night — talking
wildly and frantically in spite of all their efforts to soothe
her ; but now she lay exhausted, with the flushed face, and
bluish lipa, and eager, restless eyes so strangely unlike the
Carry of other days. She recognised him at once — but
not as a new-comer ; she appeared to think he had been
there all the time.
" Have you seen him, pappa ? " she said, in that eager
way. " Did you see him when you were out ? "
" Who, darling ? " he said, as he sate down beside her
and took her wasted hand in his.
" AVhy, Eonald, to be sure ! Oh, something dreadful
was about to happen to him — I don't know what it was — -
something dreadful and dreadful — and I called out — at the
window — at the window there — and nurse says it is all
right now — all right now "
" Oh yes, indeed," her father said gently, '' you may
depend it is all right with Ronald now. Don't you fret
about that."
" Ah, but we neglected him, pappa, we neglected him ;
and I worst of any," she went on, in that panting, breath-
less way. " It was always the same — always thinking of
doing something for him, and never doing it. I meant to
have written to the innkeeper for his address in Glasgow ;
but no — that was forgotten too. And then the spliced rod,
that George was to have got for me — I wanted Ronald to
have the best salmon-rod that America could make — but
it was all talkinu' — all ta'kiufr. Ah, it was never talking
432 WHITE HEATHER
with him when he could do us a service — and the other
boatmen getting money, of course — and he scarcely a
' thank you ' when he came away. Why didn't George
get the fishing-rod ? "
" It's all right, Carry, darling," her father said, whisper-
ing to her, "you lie quiet now, and get w^ell, and you'll see
what a splendid salmon-rod we'll get for Eonald. Not that
it would be of much use to him, you see, when he's in
Glasgow with his books and studies ; but it will show him we
have not forgotten him. Don't you trouble about it, now ;
I will see it is all right ; and you will give it to him your-
self, if we go over there next spring, to try the salmon-
fishing again."
" Then you will take George with you, pappa," she said,
regarding him with her burning eyes.
" Oh yes ; and you "
" Not me, not me," she said, shaking her head. " I am
going away. The Doctor doesn't know ; I know. They
have been very kind ; but — but — ask them, pappa, not to
bother me to take things now — I want to be let alone, now
you are here — it will only be for a little while "
" Why, what nonsense you talk ! " he said — but his heart
was struck with a sudden fear, for these few straggling sen-
tences she had uttered without any appearance of delirium.
" I tell you, you must hasten to get well and strong ; for when
George and you and I go to Scotland, there will be a great
deal of travelling to do. You know we've got to fix on that
piece of land, and see how it is all to be arranged and
managed, so that George will have a comfortable little estate
of his own when he comes of age ; or maybe, if it is a pretty
place, we may be selfish and keep it in our own hands — eh,
('arry ? — and then, you see, we shall have to have Eonald
travel about with us, to give us his advice : and the weather
may be bad, you know, you'll have to brace yourself up.
There, now, I'm not going to talk to you any more just
now. Lie still and quiet ; and mind you do everything the
Doctor bids you — why, you to talk like that ! — you ! I
never thought you would give in. Carry : w'hy, even as a
schoolgirl yon had the pluck of a dozen ! Don't you give
in ; and you'll see if we haven't those two cobles out on
Loch Navcr before many months are over."
IN DARKENED WAYS 433
She shook her head languidly ; her eyes were closed
now. And he was for slipping out of the room but that
she clung to his hand for a moment,
" Pappa," she said, in a low voice, and she opened her
eyes and regarded him — and surely at this moment, as he
said to himself, she seemed perfectly sane and reasonable,
" I want you to promise me something."
" Yes, yes," he said quickly : what was it he would not
have promised in order to soothe and quiet her mind at
such a time ?
" I don't know about going with you and George," she
said, slowly, and apparently with much difficulty. " It seems
a long way off — a long time — and — -and I hardly care now
what happens. But you will look after Ronald ; you must
promise me that, pappa ; and tell him I was sorry ; I sup-
pose he heard the shooting was taken, and would know why
we did not go over in the autumn ; but you will lind him
out, pappa, and see what he is doing ; and don't let him
think we forgot him altogether."
" Carry, darling, you leave that to me ; it will be all right
with Ronald, I promise you," her father said eagerly. " Why,
to think you should have been worrying about that ! Oh !
you will see it will be all right about Ronald, never fear ! —
what would you say, now, if I were to telegraph to him to
come over and see you, if only you make haste and get well ! "
These assurances, at all events, seemed to pacify her
somewhat ; and as she now lay still and quiet, her father
stole out of the room, hoping that perhaps the long-prayed-
for sleep might come to calm the fevered brain.
But the slow hours passed, and, so far from any improve-
ment becoming visible, her condition grew more and more
serious. The two doctors — for Doctor Tilley had summoned
iu additional aid — were assiduous enough ; but, when
(|uestioned, they gave evasive answers; and when Mr,
llodson begged to be allowed to telegraph to a celebrated
Boston physician, who was also a particular friend of his
own, asking him to come along at once, they acquiesced, it
is true, but it was clearly with the view of satisfying Mr.
Hodson's mind, rather than with any hope of advantage to
the patient. From him, indeed, they scarcely tried to conceal
the extreme gravity of the case. Emma Kerfoot and Mrs.
2 P
434 WHITE HE A THER
Lalor were quieted with vague assurances ; but Mr. Hodson
Icuew of tlie peril in wliich his daughter lay ; and, as it was
impossible for him to go to sleep, and as his terrible anxiety
put talking to these friends out of the question, he kept
mostly to his own room, walking up and down, and fearing
every moment lest direr news should arrive. For they had
been much of companions, these two ; and she was an
only daughter ; and her bright, frank, lovable character —
that he had Avatched from childhood growing more and
more beautiful and coming into closer communion with
himself as year after year went by — had wound its tendrils
round his heart. That Carry, of all people in the world,
should be taken away from them so, seemed so strange and
unaccountable : she that was ever so full of life and gaiety
and confidence. The mother had been an invalid during
most of her married life ; the boy George had not the
strongest of constitutions ; but Carry was always to the fore
with her audacious spirits and light-heartedness, ready for
anything, and the best of travelling companions. And if
she were to go, what would his life be to him ? — the light
of it gone, the gladness of it vanished for ever.
That afternoon the delirium returned ; and she became
more and more wildly excited ; until the paroxysm passed
beyond all bounds. She imagined that Ronald was in
some deadly peril ; he was alone, with no one to help ; his
enemies had hold of him ; they were carrying him off, to
thrust him into some black lake ; she could hear the waters
roaring in the dark. It Avas in vain that the nurse tried to
calm her and to reason with her ; the Avild, frightened eyes
Avere fixed on vacancy ; and again and again she made as
if she Avould rush to his help, and would then sink back
exhausted and moaning, and heaping reproaches on those
Avho Avere alloAviug Eonald to be stricken down unaided.
Then the climax came, quite unexpectedly. The nurse —
Avho happened at the moment to be alone Avith her in the
room — went to the side-table for some more ice ; and she
Avas talking as she went ; and trying to make her charge
believe that everything Avas going on Avell enough Avith this
friend of hers in Scotland. But all of a sudden, when the
imrse's back was thus turned, the girl sprang from the bed
and rushed to the AvindoAV. She tore aside the curtains
IN DARKENED WA YS 435
that had been tied together to deaden the light ; she tugged
and strained at the under sash ; she was for throwing her-
self out — to fly to Eoiiald's succoor.
" See, see, see ! " she cried, and she wrenched herself
f-way from the nurse's frightened grasp. " Oh, don't you
see that they are killing him — they are killing him— and
none to help ! Ronald — Ronald ! Oh, what shall I do ?
Nurse, nurse, help me with the window — quick— quick —
oh, don't you hear him calling ? — ^and they are driving him
down to the lake — he will be in the water soon — and lost
—lost— lost— Ronald !— Ronald !— "
Nay, by this time she had actually succeeded in raising
the under sash of the window a few inches — notwithstanding
that the nurse clung round her, and tried to hold her arms,
while she uttered shriek after shriek to call attention ; and
there is no doubt that the girl, grown quite frantic, would
have succeeded in opening the window and throwing herself
out, had not Mrs. Lalor, alarmed by the shrieking of the
nurse, rushed in. Between them they got her back into
bed ; and eventually she calmed down somewhat ; for,
indeed, this paroxysm had robbed her of all her remaining
strength. She lay in a kind of stupor now ; she paid no
heed to anything that was said to her ; only her eyes were
restless — when any one entered the room.
Dr. Tilley was with her father ; the younger man was
apparently calm, though rather pale ; J\Ir. Hodsou made
no effort to conceal his agony of anxiety.
" I can only tell you what is our opinion," the young
Doctor said, speaking for himself and his brother prac-
titioner. " We should be as pleased as you could be to have
Dr. J\Iacartney here ; but the delay — well, the delay might
]>rove dangerous. Her temperature is 107 — you know what
that means ? "
" Bat this rolling up in a wet sheet — there is a risk, isn't
there ? " the elder man said ; and how keenly he was watch-
ing the expression of the young Doctor's face !
" I have only seen it used in extreme cases," was the
answer. " If she were my own daughtei', or sister, that is
what I would do."
" You have a right to speak — you have already saved
her life once," her father said.
2 F 2
436 WHITE HE A THER
"If we could only bring about a profuse perspiration ,"
the young Doctor said, a little more eagerly — for he had
been maintaining a professionally dispassionate manner ;
" and then if that should end in a long deep sleep — every-
thing would go well then. But at present every hour that
passes is against us — and her temperature showing no sign
of abating."
" Very well," her father said, after a moment's involuntary
hesitation. " If you say the decision rests with me, I will
decide. "We will not wait for Macartney. Do what you
propose to do — I know you think it is for the best."
And so it proved. Not once, but twice, within a space
of seven days, had this young Doctor saved Carry Hodson's
life. That evening they were all seated at dinner in the big
dining-hall — Mrs. Lalor and her sister, Jack Iluysen, and
Carry's father — though the food before them did not seem
to concern them much. They were talking amongst tliem-
selves, but rather absently and disconnectedly ; and, what
was strange enough, they spoke in rather low tones, as if
that were of any avail. Dr. Tiliey came in, and walked
quickly up to the table ; and quite unwittingly he put his
hand on Emma Kerfoot's shoulder.
" I have good news," said he, and there was a kind of
subdued triumph in his eyes. " She is sleeping as soundly
— as soundly as any human being ever slept — everything
has come off well — why, I am as happy as if I had been
declared President ! " But instantly he perceived that this
exuberance of triumph was not in accordance with pro-
fessional gravity. " I think there is every reason to be
satisfied with the prospect," he continued in more measured
tones, " and now that Dr. Sargent is with her, and the
night nurse just come down, I think I will take the oppor-
tunity to get something to eat — for I have forgotten about
that since breakfast."
" Oh, Tom ! " cried Miss Kerfoot reproachfully ; and
presently everybody at the table was showering attentions
on this young man.
" And may I go in and see her now ? " said Miss Ker-
foot, preparing to steal away.
" No," was the peremptory answer. " No one. Every
half hour of a sleep like that is woith its weight in gold —
IN DARI^ENEi) WA YS 437
T;rell, that's a muddle, but you know what I mean. It's
worth a cart-load of gold, anyway. I hope she'll go on for
twenty-four hours, or thirty-six, for the matter of that. Oh,
I can tell you it is quite refreshing to look at her — talk about
the sleep of an infant ! — you never saw an infant sleeping
as deep and sound as that ; and I shouldn't wander now if
her temperature were down another degree by midnight."
But he saw that Mr. Hodson was still terribly agitated.
" Well, sir, would you like to go in and see her for a
moment ? I have told the nurse to leave the door half an
inch open, and there's a screen to keep off the draught ; I
dare say we can slip in without disturbing her."
And so it was that Mr. Hodson saw his daughter again
— not with flushed cheeks and dilated eye, but lying still
and calm, a very weight of sleep appearing to rest on her
eyelids. And when he came out of the room again, he
pressed the young man's hand — it was a message of thanks
too deep for words.
All that night she slept ; and all next day she slept,
without a moment's intermission. AVhen, at length, she
opened her eyes, and stirred a little, Emma Kerfoot was by
the bedside in an instant.
" Dear Carry ! " she said. " Do you want anything ? "
She shook her head slightly ; she was excessively Aveak ;
])ut the look in her eyes was one of calm intelligence ; it
was clear that the delirium had left her.
" Do you know that your father is here ? "
" Why ? " she managed to say.
" Because you have been so ill ! Don't you know ?
Don't you recollect ? "
"Yes— I know, alittle,"she said. "AVhereis Jacklluysen ? "
" He is here in the hotel too. Oh, how glad they will
all be to hear that you are quite yourself again. And I
nuist go and tell them, as soon as nurse comes ; for, you
know, you'll have a long pull before you, Carry ; and if
you don't get quite well again not one of us will ever
forgive ourselves for bringing you to Lake George. And
there's Jack Huysen, poor fellow, he has just been dis-
tracted ; and all the time you were ill you never had a word
for him — though he used to haunt the jjassage outside just
like a ghost — well, well, you'll have to make it up to him."
438 WHITE HE A THER
At this moment the nurse appeared, and Miss Kerfoot
was free to depart on her joyful errand. Of course, she
was for summoning everybody — and Jack Huysen among
the rest ; but the doctors interposed ; their patient must
be kept perfectly quiet ; in the meantime no one but her
father was to have access to her room.
Now Mr. Hodson, wlien he was seated there by her
side, and chatting hghtly and carelessly about a variety of
indifferent matters (she herself being forbidden to speak),
considered that he could not do better than relieve her
mind of any anxiety she may have entertained on Eonald's
account. All through her delirium that was the one thing
that seemed to trouble her ; and, lest she should revert to
it, he thought he might as well give her ample assurance
that Ronald should be looked after. However, to his great
surprise, he found that she was quite ignorant of her having
made these appeals on behalf of Eonald. She did not
seem to know that she had been in dire distress about
him, reproaching herself for their treatment of him, and
begging her father to make such atonement as was yet
possible. No ; when she was allowed to speak a little, she
said quite calmly that it was a pity they had not been able
to go to Scotland that autumn ; that they should have
written to Eonald to see how he was getting on ; and that
her father, if he visited the old country, in the coming
spring, ought surely to seek him out, and remind him that
he had some friends in America who would be glad to hear
of his welfare. But Mr. Hodson said to himself that
he would do a little more than that. He was not going
to recall the promise that he had made to his daughter
when, as he thought, she lay near to the very gates of death.
What had put that pathetic solicitude into her mind he
knew not ; but she had made her appeal, with dumb fever-
stricken eyes and trembling voice ; and he had answered
her and pledged his word. Eonald should be none the
loser that this sick girl had thought of him Avhen that she
seemed to be vanishing away from them for ever ; surely
in that direction, as well as any other, the father might fitly
give his thank-offering — for the restitution to life of the
sole daughter of his house ?
IN ABSENCE 439
CHAPTEE XLV.
IN ABSENCE.
Loch Naver lay calm and still under the slow awakening
of the dawn. All along the eastern horizon the low-lying
hills were of a velvet-textnred olive-green — a mysterious
shadow-land where no detail was visible ; but overhead the
skies were turning to a clear and luminous gray ; the roseate
tinge was leaving the upper slopes of Ben Loyal and Ben
Clebrig ; and the glassy surface of the lake was gradually
whitening as the red-golden light changed to silver and
broadened up and through the wide sleeping world. An
intense silence lay over the little hamlet among the trees ;
not even a dog was stirring ; but a tiny column of pale blue
smoke issuing from one of the chimneys told that some one
was awake within — probably the yello\v-haired Nelly, whose
duties began at an early hour.
And what was IMeenie — or Rose Meenie, or Love
Meenie, as she might be called now, after having all those
things written about her — what was she doing awake and
up at such a time ? At all events, her morning greeting
was there confronting her. She had brought it and put it
on the little dressing-table ; and as she brushed out her
beautiful abundant brown tresses, her eyes went back again
and again to the pencilled lines, and she seemed not ill-
pleased. For this was what she read :
The hinds are feedinrj upon the hiU,
And the hares on the falloio lea ;
Awahe, awahe. Love Meenie !
Birds are sincjin<j in every tree ;
And roses you'll find on your icindow-sill
To scent the morning air;
Awahe, awake, Love Meenie,
For the world is shining fair !
0 who is the mistress of bird and flower?
Ben Clebrig Icnoivs, I v-een !
Atvalce, aivahe. Love Meenie,
To shoto them their mistress and queen!
And it could hardly be expected that she should bring any
very keen critical SLTutiny to bear on these careless verses of
440 WHITE HE A THER
Konald's (of which she had now obtained a goodly ntimbei',
by dint of wheedling and entreaty, and even downright
insistence), seeing that nearly all of them were written in
her ])raise and honour ; but even apart from that she had
convinced herself that they were very fine indeed ; and
that one or two of them were really pathetic ; and she was
not without the hope that, when the serious affairs of life
liad been attended to, and a little leisure and contempla-
tion become possible, Ronald might turn to his poetical
labours again and win some little bit of a name for himself
amongst a few sympathetic souls here and there. That he
could do so, if he chose, she was sure enough. It was all
very Avell for him to make light of these scraps and frag-
ments ; and to threaten to destroy them if she revealed the
fact of their existence to anybody ; but she knew their
worth, if he did not ; and when, in this or that magazine
or review, she saw a piece of poetry mentioned with praise,
her first impulse was to quickly read it in order to ask her-
self whether Ronald — given time and opportunity — could
not have done as well. Moreover, the answer to that
question was invariably the same ; and it did not leave her
unhappy. It is true (for she would be entirely dispassion-
ate) he had not written anything quite so fine as " Chris-
tabel " — as yet ; but the years were before him ; she had
confidence ; the world should see — and give him a fitting
Avclcome all in good time.
When, on this clear morning, she was fully equipped
for her walk, she stole silently down the stair, and made
her way out into the now awakening day. The little
hamlet was showing signs of life. A stable-lad was trying
to get hold of a horse that had strayed into the meadow ;
a collie was barking its excitement over this performance ;
the pretty Nelly appeared carrying an armful of clothes to
be hung out to dry. And then, as Mecnie passed the inn,
she was joined by Harry the terrier, who, after the first
grovelling demonstrations of joy, seemed to take it for
granted that he was to be allowed to accompany her. And
she was nothing loth. The fact was, she was setting out
in quest of that distant eyrie of Ronald's of which he had
often told her ; and she doubted very much whether she
would be able to find it ; and she considered that perhaps
IN ABSENCE 44t
the little terrier might help her. "Would he not naturally
make for his master's accustomed resting-place, when they
were sufficiently high up on the far Clebrig slopes ?
So they went away along the road together ; and she
was talking to her companion ; and telling him a good deal
more about Glasgow, and about his master, than probably
he could understand. Considering, indeed, that this young
lady had just been sent home in deep disgrace, she seemed
ill excellent spirits. She had borne the parting admonitions
and upbraidings of her sister Agatha with a most astonish-
ing indifference ; she had received her mother's reproaches
with a placid equanimity that the little woman could not
understand at all (only that Meenie's face once or twice
grew fixed and proud when there was some scornful reference
to Ronald) ; and she had forthwith set about nursing
her father — who had caught a severe chill and was in bed —
with an amiable assiduity, just as if nothing had happened.
As regards her father, he either did not know, or had
refused to know, about Meenie's lamentable conduct. On
this one point he was hopelessly perverse ; he never would
listen to anything said against this daughter of his ; Meenie
was always in the right — no matter what it was. And so,
notwithstanding that she had been sent home as one in dis-
grace, and had been received as one in disgrace, she installed
herself as her father's nurse with an amazing self-content ;
and she brought him his beef-tea and port-wine at the stated
intervals (for the good Doctor did not seem to have as much
faith in drugs as might have been anticipated) ; and she
kept the peat-fire piled up and blazing ; and she methodi-
cally read to him the Inverness Courier, the Glasfiow
Werldij Citizen, and the Edinhurgli Scotsman ; and when
these were done she would get out a volume of old ballads,
or perhaps " The Eve of St. Agnes," or " Esmond," or " As
You Like It," or the " AVinter's Tale." It did not matter
much to him what she read ; he liked to hear the sound of
jMeenic's voice — in this hushed, half-slumberous, warm little
room, while the chill north winds howled without, chasing
each other across the driven loch, and sighing and sobbing
away along the lonely Strath-Terry.
But on this fair morning there was not a breath stirring ;
and the curving bays and promontories and birch-woods,
442 WHITE HEATHER
and the far hills beyond, were all reflected in the magic
mirror of the lake, as she sped along the highway, making
for the Clebrig slopes. And soon she Avas mounting these
— with the light step of one trained to the heather ; and
ever as she got higher and higher the vast panorama around
her grew wider and more wide, until she could see hills
and lochs and wooded islands that never were visible from
Inver-Mudal. In the perfect silence, the sudden whirr of
a startled grouse made her heart jump, A hare — that
looked remarkably like a cat, for there was as much white
as bluish-brown about it — got up almost at her feet and
sped swiftly away over heath and rock until it disappeared
in one of the numerous peat-hags. There was a solitary
eagle slowly circling in the blue ; but at so great a height
that it was but a speck. At one moment she thought she
had caught sight of the autlers of a stag ; and for a second
she stopped short, rather frightened ; but presently she had
convinced herself that these were but two bits of withered
birch, appearing over the edge of a rock far above her. It
was a little chillier here ; but the brisk exercise kept her
warm. And still she toiled on and on ; until she knew, or
guessed, that she was high enough ; and now the question
was to discover the whereabouts of the clump of rocks under
shelter of which Eonald was accustomed to sit, when he
had been up here alone, dreaming day-dreams, and scribbling
the foolish rhymes that had won to her favour, whatever he
might think of them.
At first this seemed a hopeless task ; for the whole place
was a wilderness of moss and heather and peat-hags, with
scarcely a distinctive feature anywhere. But she wandered
about, watching the little terrier covertly ; and at last she
saw him put his nose in an inquiring way into a hole under-
neath some tumbled boulders. He turned and looked at
her ; she followed. And now there could be no doubt that
this was Ronald's halting-place and pulpit of meditation ;
for she forthwith discovered the hidden case at the back of
the little cave — though the key of that now belonged to his
successor. And so, in much content, she sate herself down
on the heather ; with all the wide, sunlit, still world mapped
out before her — the silver thread of Mudal "Water visible
here and there among the moors, and Loch Meadie with
IN ABSENCE 443
its islands, and Ben Hope and Ben Loyal, and Bonnie
Strath-Naver, and the far Kyle of Tongne close to the
northern Sea.
Now, what had Love Meenie climbed all this height for ?
what but to read herself back into the time when Konald
used to come here alone ; and to think of what he had
been thinking ; and to picture herself as still an uncon-
scious maiden wandering about that distant little hamlet
that seemed but two or three dots down there among the
trees. This, or something like it, has always been a
favourite pastime with lovers ; but Meenie had an additional
source of interest in the possession of a packet of those idle
rhymes, and these were a kind of key to bygone moods
and days. And so it was here — in this strange stillness — ■
that Ronald had written these verses about her ; and
perhaps caught a glimpse of her, with his telescope, as she
came out from the cottage to intercept the mail ; when
little indeed was she dreaming that he had any such fancies
in his head. And now as she turned over page after page,
sometimes she laughed a little, when she came to something
that seemed a tritle audacious — and she scarcely wondered
that he had been afraid of her seeing such bold declara-
tions : and then again a kind of compunction filled her
heart ; and she wished that Ronald had not praised her
so ; for what had she done to deserve it ; and how would
her coming life be made to correspond with these all too
generous and exalted estimates of her character ? Of
course she liked well enough to come upon praises of her
abundant brown hair, and her Highland eyes, and the rose-
leaf tint of her cheeks, and the lightness of her step ; for
she was aware of these things as well as he ; and glad
enough that she possessed them, for had they not com-
mended her to him ? But as for these other wonderful
graces of mind and disposition with which he had adorned
her ? She was sadly afraid that he would find her stupid,
ill-instructed, unread, fractious, unreasonable, incapable of
understanding him. Look, for example, how he could
imbue these hills and moors and vales with a kind of magic,
so that they seemed to become his personal friends. To
her they were all dead things (except Mudal Water, at
times, on the summer evenings), but to him they seemed
444 WHITE HE A THER
instinct with life. They spoke to him ; and he to them {
he understood them ; they were his companions and
friends ; who but himself could tell of what this very hill
of Clebrig was thinking ? —
Ban Clehrig's a hlaie of splendour
III the first red flush of the morn,
And his gaze is fixed on the eastward
To greet the day neiv-horn ;
And he listens a-slill for the Lellvio
Of the anilered stag afar.
And he latighs at the royal challenge.
The hoarse, harsh challenge of inar.
But Ben Clebrig is gentle and placid
When the sun sinlcs into the vnst.
And a mild and a melloio radiance
Shines on his giant crest ;
For he's loolcing down upon Mecnie
As she ivanders along the road,
And the mountain hestows his blessing
On the fairest child of God.
There again : what could he sec in her (she asked herself)
that he should write of her so ? He had declared to her
that the magic with which all this neighbourhood was
imbued was due to h'er presence there ; bat how could she,
knowing herself as she did, believe that ? And how to
show her gratitude to him ; and her faith in him ; and her
confidence as to the future ? "\Yell, she could but give to
him her life and the love that was the life of her life — if
these were worth the taking.
But there was one among these many pieces that she
had pondered over which she returned to again and again,
and with a kind of pride ; and that not because it sounded
her praises, but because it assured her hopes. As for
llonald's material success in life, she was troubled with
little doubt about that. It might be a long time before he
could come to claim his wife ; but she was content to wait ;
in that direction she had no fears whatever. But there
was something beyond that. She looked forward to the
day when even the Stuarts of Glengask and Orosay should
know what manner of man this was whom she had chosen
for her husband. Her mother had called him an un-
educated peasant ; but she paid no heed to the taunt ;
IN ABSENCE 445
rather she was thinking of the time Avhen Ronald — other
things being settled — might perhaps go to Edinburgh, and
get to know some one holding the position there that
Jeffrey used to hold (her reading was a little old-fashioned)
who Avould introduce him to the world of letters and open
the way to fame. She knew nothing of Carry Hodson's
luckless attempt in this direction ; she knew, on the con-
trary, that Ronald was strongly averse from having any of
these scraps printed ; but she said to herself that the fitting
time would come. And if these unpolished verses are
found to belie her confident and proud prognostications as
to the future, let it be remembered that she was hardly
nineteen, that she was exceedingly warm-hearted, that she
was a young wife, and day and night with little to think
about but the perfections of her lover, and his kindness to
her, and his praise of her, and the honour in which he held
her. However, this piece was not about Meenie at all — he
had called it
BY ISLATS SHORES.
Bij Islai/s shores she sate and sang:
*' 0 iviuds, come hloioing o'er the sea.
And hrinfj me had: my love again
That went to fight in Germanie I "
And all the livelong day she sang,
And nursed the hairn upon her knee :
" Balou, halou, my honnie bairn.
Thy father's fur in Germanie,
But ere the summer days are gane.
And lointer hlackens hush and tree.
Thy father will ice icelcome hame
Frae the red ivars in Germanie."
0 dark the night fell, dark and mirk ;
A ivraith stood by her icily :
" Dear icife, I'll never more win hame.
For I am slain in Germanie.
On Minden's field Tm lying stark,
And Heaven is now my far countrie,
Farewell, dear wife, fareivell, farewell,
I'll ne'er win hame frae Germanie."
And all the year she came and ivent,
And wandered ivild frae sea to sea ;
"0 neighbours, is he ne'er come hack,
My love that went to Germanie "i"
446 WHITE HEATHER
Port Ellen saw her many a time;
Ixound by Port Asltaig ivandered she :
" Where is the ship that's sailing in
With my dear love frae Germanie 1 "
Ptid ivhen the darhened ivinter fell :
" Ifs cold for haiih my halm and mo ;
Let me lie down and rest aivhile :
My love's aivay frae Germanie.
0 far away and aivay he dwells ;
High Heaven is now his fair countrie ;
And there he stands — ivith arms outstretched —
To ivclcome hame my hairn and me I "
And if Meenie's eyes were filled with tears when she
had re-read the familiar lines, her heart was proud enough ;
and all her kinsmen of Glengask and Orosay had no terrors
for her ; and her mother's taunts no sting. Of course, all
this that she hoped for was far away in the future ; but
even as regarded the immediate years before her she refused
to be harassed by any doubt. Perhaps she would not
have asserted in set terms that a knack of stringing verses
together proved that the writer had also the capacity and
knowledge and judgment necessary to drain and fence and
plant and stock a Highland estate ; abstract questions of
the kind had little interest for her ; what she did know —
what formed the first article of her creed, and the last, and
the intervening thirty-seven-^was that Eouald could do
anything he put his mind to. And this was a highly useful
and comfortable belief, considering all her circumstances.
And so she sped away down the mountain-side again — ■
glad to have discovered Ronald's retreat ; and so light and
swift was her step that when she at length reached the inn
she found herself just ahead of the mail coming in from the
south. Of course she waited for letters ; and when Mrs.
Mui'ray had opened the bags, it was found there were three
for the Doctor's cottage. The first was from Ronald ; that
Meeuie whipped into her pocket. The second was for
Mrs. Douglas, and clearly in Agatha's handwriting. The
third, addressed to Meenie, had an American stamp on it ;
and this was the one that she opened and read as she
quietly walked homeward.
It was a long letter ; and it was from Miss Carry Hodson ;
IN ABSENCE 447
who first of all described the accident that had befallen her,
and her subsequent illness ; and plainly intimated that no
such thing would have happened had her Highland friends
been in charge of the boat. Then she went on to say that
her father had just sailed for Europe ; that he had business
to transact in Scotland ; that he wished to see Ronald ; and
would Miss Douglas be so very kind as to ask the innkeeper,
or the post-master at Lairg, or any one who knew Ronald's
address in Glasgow, to drop a post-card to her father,
addressed to the Langham Hotel, London, with the informa-
tion. Moreover, her father had intimated his intention of
taking the Loch Naver salmon-fishing for the next season,
if it was not as yet let ; and in that case the writer would
be overjoyed to find herself once more among her Inver-
Mudal friends. Finally, and as a kind of reminder and
keepsake, she had sent by her father a carriage-rug made
mostly of chipmunk skins ; and she would ask Miss
Douglas's acceptance of it ; and hoped that it would keep
her knees snug and warm and comfortable when the winds
were blowing too sharply along Strath-Terry.
Of course, all this was wonderful news to come to such
a quiet and remote corner of the world ; but there Avas
other news as well ; and that by an odd coincidence.
Some little time after Mrs. Douglas had received the letter
from Agatha, she came to ]\Ieenie.
" Williamina," said she, "Agatha writes to me about
Mr. Frank Lauder."
"Yes ?" said Meenie, rather coldly.
" He intends renting the salmon-fishing on the loch for
the next season ; and he will be alone at the inn. Agatha
hopes that we shall be particularly civil to him ; and I hope
— I say, I hope — that every one in this house will be. It
is of the greatest importance, considering how he stands
with regard to Mr. Gemmill. I hope he will be received
in this house with every attention and kindness,"
And then the pompous little dame left. It was almost
a challenge she had thrown down ; and j\Ieenie was at first
a little bewildered. What then ? — would this young man,
for the six weeks or two months of his stay, be their con-
stant visitor ? He would sit in the little parlour, evening
after evening ; and how could she keep him from talking to
4+8 WHITE HE A THER
her, and how could she keep him from looking at her ?
And Konald — her husband— would be far away ; and
alone, perhaps ; and not allowed a word with her ; whereas
she would have to be civil and polite to this young man ;
and even if she held her eyes downcast, how could she help
his regarding her face ?
And then she suddenly bethought her of Miss Hodson's
letter. "\Yliat ? — was Mr. Hodson after the fishing too ?
And ought not the lust tenant to have the refusal "i And
should not the Duke's agent know ? And why should she
not write him a note — just in case no inquiry had been
made ? She had not much time to think about the matter ;
but she guessed quickly enough that, if an American mil-
lionaire and the son of a Glasgow merchant are after the
same thing, and that thing purchasable, the American is
likely to get it. And why should Ronald's wife be stared
at and talked to by this young man — however harmless and
amiable his intentions ?
So she went swiftly to her own room and wrote as
follows : —
"Dear Mr. Crawford — I have just heard from Miss
Hodson, whose father was here last spring, that he is on
his way to Europe ; and that he hopes to have the fishing
again this year. I think I ought to let you know, just in
case you should have any other application for the loch. I
am sure Miss Hodson will be much disappointed if he does
not get it. Yours sincerely,
" Meexie S, Douglas."
" There," said she, and there was a little smile of
triumph about her mouth, " if that doesn't put a spoke in
the wheel of Mr. Frank Lauder, poor fellow, I don't know
what will."
" Spiteful little cat," her sister Agatha would have called
her, had she known ; but women's judgments of women are
not as men's.
WANDERINGS IN THE WEST 449
CHAPTER XLYI.
WANDEEINGS IN THE WEST.
On a singularly clear and brilliant morning in February a
large and heavy screw-steamer slowly crept out of the land-
locked little harbour of Portree, and steadily made away for
•the north. For her the squally Ben Inivaig at the mouth
of the channel had no terrors ; indeed, what could any
vessel fear on such a morning as this ? When they got
well out into Raasay Sound, it seemed as if the whole world
had been changed into a pantomime-scene. The sky was
calm and cloudless ; the sea was as glass and of the most
dazzling blue ; and those masses of white that appeared on
that perfect mirror were the reflections of the snow-powdered
islands — Raasay, and Fladda, and South Rona — that
gleamed and shone and sparkled there in the sun. Not
often are the wide waters of the Minch so fair and calm
in mid-winter ; the more usual thing is northerly gales,
with black seas thundering by into Loch Staffin and Kil-
maluag Bay, or breaking into sheets and spouts of foam
along the headlands of Aird Point and Ru Hunish. This
was as a holiday trip, but for the sharp cold. The islands
were white as a solan's wing — save along the shores ;
the sea was of a sapphire blue ; and when they got up by
Rona light behold the distant snow-crowned hills of Ross
and Cromarty rose faint and spectral and wonderful into
the pale and summer-like sky. The men sung " Fhir a
Bhata " as they scoured the brass and scrubbed the decks ;
the passengers marched up and down, clapping their hands
to keep them warm ; and ever as the heavy steamer forged
on its way, the world of blue sea and sky and snow-white
hills opened out before them, until some declared at last
that in the far north they could make out the Shiant Isles.
Now under shelter of the companion-way leading down
into the saloon three men were standing, and two of them
were engaged in an animated conversation. The third, who
was Mr. Hodson, merely looked on and listened, a little
amused, apparently. One of the others — a tall, heavy
bearded, north-Highland-looking man — was Mr. Carmichacl,
a famous estate-agent in London, who had run two or three
2 G
450 WHITE HEATHER
commissions together as an excuse for this mid-winter trip.
The third member of the group was Ronald, who was ham-
mering away in his usual dogmatic fashion.
" Pedigree ? The pride of having ancestors ? " he was
saying. " Why, there's not a man alive whose ancestry does
not stretch as far back as any other man's ancestry. Take
it any way ye like : if Adam was our grandfather, then we're
all his grandchildren ; or if we are descended from a
jellyfish or a monkey, the line is of the same length for all
of us — for dukes, and kings, and herd-laddies. The only
difference is this, that some know the names of their fore-
fathers, and some don't ; and the presumption is that the
man whose people have left no story behind them is come
of a more moral, useful, sober, hard-working race than the
man whose forbears were famous cut-throats in the middle
ages, or dishonest lawyers, or king's favourites. It's plain
John Smith that has made up the wealth of this country ;
and that has built her ships for her, and defended her, and
put her where she is ; and John Smith had his ancestors at
Cressy and Agincourt as well as the rest — ay, and they had
the bulk of the fighting to do, I'll be bound ; but I think
none the worse of him because he cannofc tell you their
names or plaster his walls with coats of arms. However, it's
idle talking about a matter of sentiment, and that's the fact ;
and so, if you'll excuse me, I'll just go down into the cabin,
and write a couple o' letters."
A minute or so after he had disappeared, Mr. Hodson
(who looked miserably cold, to tell the truth, though he
was wrapped from head to heel in voluminous furs) motioned
his companion to come a few yards aside, so that they
could talk without fear of being overheard.
" Now," said he, in his slow and distinct way, " now we
are alone, I want you to tell me what you think of that
young man."
" I don't Uke his politics," was the prompt and blunt
f.nswer.
" No more do I," said Mr. Hodson coolly. " But for
another reason. You call him a Iladical, I call him a Tory.
But no matter — I don't mean about politics. Politics ? — ■
who but a fool bothers his head about politics — unless he
can make money out of them "i No, I mean something
WANDERINGS IN THE WES2' 451
more practical than that. Here have you and he been
together these three days, talking about the one subject
nearly all the time — I mean the management of these
Highland estates, and the nature of the ground, and what
should be done, and all that. AVell, now, you are a man of
great experience ; and I want you to tell me what you think
of this young fellow. I want you to tell me honestly ; and
it will be in strict confidence, I assure you. jSTow, has he
got a good sohd grip of the thing ? Does he know ? Does
he catch on ? Is he safe ? Is he to be trusted ?— — "
" Oh, there, there, there ! " said the big estate-agent,
interrupting through mere good-nature. " That's quite
another thing — quite another thing, I've not a word to
say against him there — no, quite the other way — a shrewd -
headed, capable fellow he is, with a groundwork of practical
knowledge that no man ever yet got out of books. As
sharp-eyed a fellow as I have come across for many a day
— didn't you see how he guessed at the weak points of that
Mull place before ever he set foot ashore ? Quick at figures,
too — oh yes, yes, a capable fellow I call him ; he has been
posting himself up, I can see ; but it's where his practical
knowledge comes in that he's of value. When it's a question
of vineries, or something like that, then- he goes by the
book — that's useless."
Mr. Hodson listened in silence ; and his manner showed
nothing.
" I have been thinking he would be a valuable man for
me," the agent said presently.
" In your office .'' " said Mr. Hodson, raising his eyes.
" Yes. And for this reason. You see, if he would only
keep away from those d— d politics of his, he is a very
good-natured fellow, and he has got an off-hand way with
him that makes shepherds, and keepers, and people of that
kind friendly ; the result is that he gets all the information
that he wants — and that isn't always an easy thing to get.
Novv- if I had a man like that in my office, whom I could
send with a client thinking of purchasing an estate — to
advise him — to get at the truth — and to be an intelligent
and agreeable travelling-companion at the same time — that
would be a useful thing."
" Say, now," continued Mr. Hodson (who was attending
2 G 2
452 WHITE HEATHER
mostly to Lis own meditations), " do you think, from what
you've seen of this young man, that he has the knowledge
and business-capacity to be overseer — factor, you call it,
don't you ? — of an estate — not a large estate, but perhaps
about the size of the one we saw yesterday or this one we
are going to now ? Would he go the right way about it ?
Would he understand what had to be done— I mean, in
improving the land, and getting the most out of it "
Mr. Carmichael laughed.
" It's not a fair question," said he. " Your friend Strang
and I are too much of one opinion — ay, on every point
we're agreed — for many's the long talk we've had over the
matter."
" I know — I know," Mr. Hodson said. " Though I was
only half-listening ; for when you got to feu-duties and
public burdens and things of that kind I lost my reckoning.
But you say that you and Strang are agreed as to the proper
way of managing a Highland estate : very well : assuming
your theories to be correct, is he capable of carrying them
out ? "
" I think so — I should say undoubtedly^! don't think
I would myself hesitate about trusting him with such a place
— that is, when I had made sufficient inquiries about his
character, and get some money guarantee about his steward-
ship. But then, you see, Mr. Hodson, I'm afraid, if you
were to let Strang go his own way in working up an estate,
so as to get the most marketable value into it, you and he
Avould have different opinions at the outset. I mean with
such an estate as you w^ould find over there," he added,
indicating with his finger the long stretch of wild and
mountainous country they were approaching. " On rough
and hilly land like that, in nine cases out of ten, you may
depend on it, it's foresting that pays."
" But that's settled," Mr. Hodson retorted rather sharply.
" I have already told you, and Strang too, that if I buy a
place up here I will not have a stag or a hind from end to
end of it."
" Faith, they're things easy to get rid of," the other said
good naturedly. " They'll not elbow you into the ditch if
you meet them on the road."
" No ; I have heard too much. Why, you yourself said
WANDERINGS IN THE WEST 453
that the very name of American stank in the nostrils of the
Highlanders."
" Can you wonder ? " said Mr. Carmichael quietly : they
had been talking the night before of certain notorious
doings, on the part of an American lessee, which were pro-
voking much newspaper comment at the time.
" Well, what I say is this — if I buy a place in the High-
lauds — and no one can compel me to buy it — it is merely
a fancy I have had for two or three years back, and I can
give it up if I choose — but what I say is, if I do buy a place
in the Highlands, I will hold it on such conditions that I
shall be able to bring my family to live on it, and that I
shall be able to leave it to my boy without shame. I will
not associate myself with a system that has wrought such
cruelty and tyranny. No ; I will not allow a single aero
to be forested."
" There's such a quantity of the land good for nothing
but deer," Mr. Carmichael said, almost plaintively. " If you
only saw it ! — you're going now by what the newspaper
writers say — people who never were near a deer-forest in
their lives."
" Good for nothing but deer ? But what about the
black cattle that Ronald — that Strang — is always talking
about ? " was the retort — and Mr. Hodson showed a very
unusual vehemence, or, at least, impatience. " WeD, I
don't care. That has got nothing to do with me. But it
has got to do with my factor, or overseer, or whatever he is.
And between him and me this is how it will lie : ' If you
can't work my estate, big or small as it may be, without
putting the main part of it under deer, and beginning to
tilch grazings here and there, and driving the crofters down
to the sea-shore, and preventing a harmless traveller from
having a Sunday walk over the hills, then out you go. You
may be fit for some other place : not for mine.' " Then ho
went on in a milder strain. " And Strang knows that very
well. No doubt, if I were to put him in a position of trust
like that, he might be ambitious to give a good account of
his stewardship ; I think, very likely he would be, for he's
a young man ; but if I buy a place in the Highlands, it will
have to be managed as I wish it to be managed. When I
said that I wanted the most made out of the land, I did
454 WHITE HEATHER
not mean the most money. No. I should be glad to have
four per cent for my investment ; if I can't have that, I
should be content with three ; but it is not as a commercial
speculation that I shall go into the affair, if I go into it at
all. My wants are simple enough. As I tell you, I admire
the beautiful, wild country ; I like the people — what little
I have seen of them ; and if I can get a picturesque bit of
territory somewhere along this w^estern coast, I should like
to give my family a kind of foothold in Europe, and I dare
say my boy might be glad to spend his autumns here, and
have a turn at the grouse. But for the most part of the
time the place would be under control of the factor ; and
I want a factor who will work the estate under certain
specified conditions. First, no foresting. Then I would
have the crofts revalued — as fairly as might be ; no crofter
to be liable to removal who paid his rent. The sheep-
farms would go by their market value, though I would not
willingly disturb any tenant ; however, in that case, I should
be inclined to try Strang's plan of having those black cattle
on my own account. I would have the cottars taken away
from the crofts (allowing for the rent paid to the crofter,
for that would be but fair, when the value of the crofts was
settled), and I would build for them a model village, which
you might look upon as a philanthropic fad of my own, to
be paid for separately. No gratuitous grazing anywhere to
crofter or cottar ; that is but the parent of subsequent
squabbles. Then I would have all the draining and plant-
ing and improving of the estate done by the local hands,
so far as that was practicable. And then I should want
four per cent return on the purchase-money ; and I should
not be much disappointed with three ; and perhaps (though
I would not admit this to anybody) if I saw the little com-
munity thriving and satisfied — and reckoning also the
honour and glory of my being a king on my own small
domain — I might even be content with two per cent. Now,
Mr. Carmichael, is this practicable ? And is this young
fellow the man to undertake it ? I would make it worth
his while. I should not like to say anything about payment
by results or percentage on profits ; that might tempt him
to screw it out of the poorer people when he was left master
— though he does not talk like that kind of a fellow. I
WANDERINGS IN THE WEST 455
wrote to Lord Ailine about him ; and got the best of
characters. I went and saw the old man who is coaching
him for that forestry examination ; he is quite confident
about the result — not that I care much about that my-
self. What do you say now ? Yon ought to be able to
judge."
Mr. Carmichael hesitated.
" If you got the estate at a fair price," he said at length,
" it might be practicable, though these improvement schemes
suck in money as a sponge sucks in water. And as for
this young fellow — well, I should think he would be just
the man for the place — active, energetic, shrewd-headed,
and a pretty good hand at managing folk, as I should guess.
But, you know, before giving any one an important post
like that — and especially with your going back to America
for the best part of every year — -I think you ought to have
some sort of money guarantee as a kind of safeguard. It's
usual. God forbid I should suggest anything against
the lad — he's as honest looking as my own two boys, and
I can say no more than that — still, business is business.
A couple of securities, now, of £500 apiece, might be
snfficient."
" It's nsual ? " repeated Mr. Hodson absently. " Yes, I
suppose it is. Pretty hard on a young fellow, though, if
he can't find the sureties. A thousand pounds is a laig
figure for one in his position. He has told me about his
father and his brother : they're not in it, anyhow — both of
them with hardly a sixpence to spare. However, it's no
use talking about it until we see whether this place here is
satisfactory ; and even then don't say a word about it to
him ; for if some such post were to be offered to him —
and if the securities were all right and so forth — it has got
to be given to him as a little present from an American
young lady, if you can call it a present when you merely
propose to pay a man a fair day's wage for a fair day's work.
And I am less hopeful now ; the three places we have
looked at were clearly out of the question ; and my
Highland mansion may prove to be a castle in Spain
after all."
Late that night they reached their destination ; and
early next morning at the door of the hotel — which looked
456 WHITE HE A THER
strangely deserted amid the wintry landscape — a waggonette
was waiting for them, and also the agent for the estate they
were going to inspect. They started almost directly ; and
a long and desperately cold drive it proved to be ; Mr.
Hodson, for one, was glad enough when they dismounted
at the keeper's cottage where their tramp over the ground
Avas to begin— he did not care how rough the country might
b3, so long as he could keep moving briskly.
Now it had been very clear during these past few days
that Ronald had not the slightest suspicion that Mr. Hodson,
in contemplating the purchase of a Plighland estate (which
was an old project of his), had also in his eye some scheme
for Eonald's own advancement. All the way through h&
had been endeavouring to spy out the nakedness of the
land, and to demonstrate its shortcomings. He considered
that was his business. Mr. Hodson had engaged him —
at what he considered the munificent terms of a guinea a
day and all expenses paid — to come and give his advice \
and he deemed it his duty to find out everything, especially
whatever was detrimental, about such places as they visited,
so that there should be no swindling bargain. And so on
this Ross-shire estate of Balnavrain, he was proving himself
a hard critic. This was hopelessly bleak ; that was worth-
less bog-land ; — why was there no fencing along those
cliffs ? — where were the roads for the peats ? — who had had
control over the burning of the heather ? — wasn't it strange
that all along these tops they had not put up more than
a couple of coveys of grouse, a hare or two, and a single
ptarmigan ? But all at once, when they had toiled across
this unpromising and hilly wilderness, they came upon a
scene of the most startling beauty — for now they were
looking down and out on the western sea, that was a
motionless mirror of blue and white ; and near them was
a wall of picturesquely wooded clilTs ; and below that again,
and sloping to the shore, a series of natural plateaus and
carefully planted enclosures ; while stretching away inland
was a fertile valley, with smart farmhouses, and snug clumps-
of trees, and a meandering river that had salmon ob-
viously written on every square foot of its partially frozen
surface.
" What a situation for a house ! " was Ronald's in-
WANDERINGS IN THE WEST 457
voluntary exclamation — as he looked down on the sheltered
semicircle below him, guarded on the east and north by the
cliffs, and facing the shining west.
" I thought ye would say that," the agent said, with a
quiet smile. " It's many's the time I've heard Sir James
say he would give £20,000 if he could bring the Castle
there ; and he was aye minded to build there — ay, even to
the day of his death, poor man ; but then the Colonel, when
the place came to him, said no ; he would rather sell Bal-
navrain ; and maist likely the purchaser would be for build- '
ing a house to his ain mind."
" And a most sensible notion too," Mr. Hodson said.
" But look here, my friend : you've brought us up to a kind
of Pisgah ; I would rather go down into that land of Gilead,
and see what the farmhouses are like."
" Ay, but I brought ye here because it's about the best
place for giving ye an idea of the marches," said the man
imperturbably, for he knew his own business better than
the stranger. " Do ye see the burn away over there beyond
the farmhouse ? '*
" Yes, yes."
'* "Well, that's the Balnavrain march right up to the top ;
and then the Duchess runs all along the sky-line yonder —
to the black scaur."
" You don't say ! *' observed Mr. Hodson. " I never
heard of a Duchess doing anything so extraordinary."
" But we march with the Duchess," said the other, a
little bewildered.
" That's a little more decorous, anyway. Well now, I
suppose we can make all that out on the Ordnance Survey
map when we get back to the hotel. I'm for getting down
into the valley — to have a look around ; I take it that if I
lived here I shouldn't spend all the time on a mountain-
top."
Well, the long and the short of it was that, after having
had two or three hours of laborious and diligent tramping
and inspection and questioning and explanation, and after
having been entertained with a comfortable meal of oat-
cake and hot broth and boiled beef at a hospitable farm-
house, they set out again on their cold drive back to the
hotel, where a long lausiness conversation went on all the
45 S WHITE HEATHER
evening, during dinner and after dinner. It was very
curious how each of these three brought this or that
objection to the place — as if bound to do so ; and how the
fascination of the mere site of it had so clearly captivated
them none the less. Of course, nothing conclusive was
said or done that night ; bui, despite these deprecatory
pleas, there was a kind of tacit and general admission that
Balnavrain, with proper supervision and attention to the
possibilities offered by its different altitudes, might be
■made into a very admirable little estate, with a dwelling-
house on it second in point of situation to none on the
whole western sea-board of the Highlands.
" Eonald," said Mr. Hodson that evening, when Mr.
Carmichael had gone off to bed (he was making for the
south early in the morning), " we have had some hard days'
work ; why should we let Loch Naver lie idle ? I suppose
we could drive from here somehow ? Let us start off to-
morrow ; and we'll have a week's salmon-fishing."
" To Inver-Mudal ? " he said — and he turned quite pale.
"Yes, yes, why not?" Mr. Hodson answered. But he
had noticed that strange look that had come across the
younger man's face-; and he attributed it to a wrong cause.
" Oh, it will not take up so much of your time," he con-
tinued. " Mr. AVeems declares you must have your certifi-
cate as a matter of course. And as for expenses — the
present arrangement must go on naturally until you get
back to Glasgow. What is a week, man ? Indeed, I will
take no denial."
And Ronald could not answer. To Inver-Mudal 1 — to
meet the girl whom he dared not acknowledge to be his
wife ? — and with his future as hopelessly uncertain as ever.
Once or twice he was almost driven to make a confession
to this stranger, who seemed so frankly interested in him
and his affairs ; but no ; he could not do that ; and he
went to bed wondering Avith what strange look in her eyes
Meenie would find him in Inver-Mudal — if he found it
impossible to resist the temptation of being once more
within sight of her, and within hearing of the sound of
her voice.
A PLEDGE REDEEMED 459
CHAPTER XLYII.
A PLEDGE REDEEMED.
Mr. Hodson coiild by no means get to understand the
half -expressed rehictance, the trepidation almost, with which
Eonald seemed to regard this visit to Inver-Mudal. It
was not a matter of time ; for his studies for the examina-
tion were practically over. It was not a matter of expense ;
for he was being paid a guinea a day. It was not debt ;
on that point Mr. Hodson had satisfied himself by a few
plain questions ; and he knew to a sovereign what sum
Ronald had still in the bank. Nor could he believe, after
the quite unusual terms in which Lord Ailine had written
about the young man's conduct and character, that Ronald
was likely to have done anything to cause him to fear a
meeting with his former friends. And so, having some
little experience of the world, he guessed that there was
j)robably a girl in the case ; and discreetly held his peace.
But little indeed was he prepared for the revelation that
was soon to be made. On the afternoon of one of these
cold February days they were driving northward along
Strath-Terry. A sprinkling of snow had fallen in the
morning ; the horses' hoofs and the wheels of the waggon-
ette made scarcely any sound in this prevailing silence.
They had come in sight of Loch Naver ; and the long
sheet of water looked quite black amid the white undula-
tions of the woods and the moorland and the low-lying
hills. Now at this point the road leading down to the
village makes a sudden turn ; and they were just cutting-
round the corner when Ronald, who had been anxiously
looking forward, caught sight of that that most he longed
and that most he feared to see. It was Meenie herself —
she was walking by the side of the way, carrying some little
parcel in her hand ; and they had come upon her quite
unexpectedly, and noiselessly besides ; and what might she
not betray in this moment of sudden alarm ? He gripped
the driver's arm, thinking he might stop the horses ; but it
was now too late for that. They were close to her ; she
heard the patter of horses' hoofs ; she looked up, startled ;
and the next moment — when she saw Ronald there — she
46o WHITE HE A THER
had uttered a quick, sharp cry, and had staggered back a
step or so, until in her fright she caught at the wire fence
behind her. She did not fall ; but her face was as white
as the snow around her ; and when he leapt from the
waggonette, and seized her by both wrists, so as to hold her
there, she could only say, "Ronald, Eonald," and could
seek for no explanation of this strange arrival. But he
held her tight and firm ; and with a wave of his hand he
bade the driver drive on and leave them. And Mr. Hodson
lowered his eyes, thinking that he had seen enough ; but
he formally raised his hat, all the same ; and as he was
being driven on to the inn, he returned to his surmise that
there was a girl in the case — only who could have imagined
that it was the Doctor's daughter ?
Nor was there a single word said about this tell-tale
meeting when Eonald came along to the inn, some few
minutes thereafter. He seemed a little preoccupied, that
was all. He rather avoided the stormy welcome that
greeted him everywhere ; and appeared to be wholly bent
on getting the preparations pushed forward for the fishing
of the next day. Of course everything had to be arranged ;
for they had had no thought of coming to Inver-Mudal
when they sailed from Glasgow ; there was not even a boat
on the loch, nor a single gillie engaged.
But later on that evening, when the short winter day
had departed, and the blackness of night lay over the land,
Ronald stole away from the inn, and went stealthily down
through the fields till he found himself by the side of the
river. Of course, there was nothing visible ; had he not
known every foot of the ground, he dared not have come
this way ; but onward he went like a ghost through the
dark until he finally gained the bridge, and there he paused
and listened. *'Meenie ! " he said, in a kind of whisper ;
but there was no reply. And so he groped his way to the
stone dyke by the side of the road, and sate down there,
and waited.
This was not how he had looked forward to meeting
Meenie again. Many a time he had pictured that to him-
self—his getting back to Inver-Mudal after the long separa-
tion— the secret summons — and Meenie coming silently
out from the little cottage to join him. But always the
A PLEDGE REDEEMED 461
night was a moonlight night ; and the wide heavens calm
and clear ; and Loch Naver rippling in silver under the
dusky shadows of Ben Clebrig. Why, he had already
written out that summons ; and he had sent it to Meenie ;
and no doubt she had read it over to herself more than
once ; and wondered when the happy time was to be. The
night that he had looked forward to was more like a night
for a lovers' meeting : this was the message he had sent her — ■
0 u-liite's the moon upon the loch,
And hlach the hushes on the hrae.
And red the light in your window-pane:
When u-ill ye come away,
Meenie,
Wlien ivill ye come aivayf
FIl icrap ye round and keep ye warm, ■.
For mony a secret ice've to tell.
And ne!er a sound will hinder us
Down in yon hidden dell,
Meenie,
Down in yon hidden dell.
0 see the moon is sailing on
Through fleecy clouds across the sides.
But fairer far the light that I hnoio.
The love-light in your eyes,
Meenie,
The love-light in your eyes.
0 haste and haste; the night is sweet.
But sweeter far icliat I icould hear ;
And I have a secret to tell you,
A whisper in your ear,
Meenie,
A whimper in your ear.
But here was a bitter cold winter night ; and Meenie
would have to come through the snow ; and dark as pitch
it was — he would have to guess at the love-light in her
eyes, so cruelly dense was this blackness all around.
Then his quick ear detected a faint sound in the dis-
tance— a hushed footfall on the snow ; and that came nearer
and nearer ; he went out to the middle of the road.
" Is that you, Meenie ? "
The answer was a whisper —
*' Ronald!" ,.. -{
462 WHITE HEATHER
And like a ghost she came to him through the dark ;
but indeed this was no ghost at all that he caught to him
and that clung to him, for if her cheeks were cold her
breath was warm about his face, and her lips were warm,
and her ungloved hands . that were round his neck were
warm, and all the furry wrappings that she wore could not
quite conceal the joyful beating of her heart.
" Oh, Eonald — Eonald — you nearly killed me with the
fright — I thought something dreadful had happened — that
you had come back without any warning — and now you
say instead that it's good news — oh, let it be good news,
Ronald — let it be good news— if you only knew how I
have been thinking and thinking — and crying sometimes —
through the long days and the long nights — let it be good
news that you have brought with you, Ronald ! "
" Well, lass " (but this was said after some little time ;
for he had other things to say to her with which we have
no concern here), " it may be good news ; but it's pretty
much guess-work ; and maybe I'm building up some-
thing on my own conceit, that will have a sudden fall,
and serve me right. And then even at the best I hardly
see "
" But, Ronald, you said it was good news ! " And then
she altered her tone. " Ah, but I don't care ! I don't care
at all when you are here. It is only when you are away
that my heart is like lead all the long day ; and at night I
lie and think that everything is against us — and such a
long time to wait — and perhaps my people finding out —
but what is it, Ronald, you had to tell me ? "
" Well, now, Meenie," said he.
" But that is not my name — to you," said she ; for indeed
she scarce knew what she said, and Avas all trembling, and
excited, and clinging to him — there, in the dark, mid the
Avild waste of the snow.
" Love-Meenie and Rose-Meenie, all in one," said he,
" listen, and I'll tell you now what maybe lies before us.
Maybe, it is, and that only ; I think this unexpected coming
to see you may have put me off my head a bit ; but if it's
all a mistake — well, we are no worse off than we were
before. And this is what it is now : do you remember my
telling you that IMr. Hodson had often been talking oi
A PLEDGE REDEEMED 463
buying an estate in the Highlands ? — well, he has just been
looking at one — it's over there on the Eoss-shire coast —
and it's that has brought us to the Highlands just now, for
he would have me come and look at it along Avith him.
And what would you think if he made me the factor of it ?
Well, maybe I'm daft to think of such a thing ; but he has
been talking and talking in a way I cannot understand
unless some plan of that kind is in his head ; ay, and he
has been making inquiries about me, as I hear ; and not
making much of the forestry certificate, as to whether I get
it or no ; but rather, as I should guess, thinking about
putting me on this Babiavrain place as soon as it becomes
his own. Ay, ay, sweetheart ; that would be a fine thing
for me, to be in a position just like that of Mr. Crawford —
though on a small scale ; and who could prevent my coming
to claim my good wife then, and declaring her as mine
before all the world ? "
" Yes, yes, Eonald," she said eagerly, " but why do you
talk like that ? Why do you speak as if there was trouble ?
Surely he wiU make you factor ! It was he that asked you
to go away to Glasgow ; he always was your friend ; if he
buys the estate, who else could he get to manage it as
well ? "
" But there's another thing, sweetheart," said he, rather
hopelessly. " He spoke about it yesterday. Indeed, he
put it plain enough. He asked me fairly whether, sup-
posing somebody was to offer me the management of an
estate, I could get guarantees — securities for my honesty,
in fact ; and he even mentioned the sum that would be
needed. Well, well, it's beyond me, my girl — where could
I find two people to stand surety for me at £500 apiece"? "
She uttered a little cry, and clung closer to him.
" Eonald — Eonald — surely you will not miss such a
chance for that — it is a matter of form, isn't it ? — and
some one "
" But who do I know that has got £500, and that I
could ask ? " said he. " Ay, and two of them. Maybe
Lord Ailine might be one — he was always a good friend
to me — but two of them — two of them — well, well, good
lass, if it has all got to go, we must wait for some other
chance."
464 WHITE HE A THER
"Yes," said Meenie bitterly, "and this American — he
calls himself a friend of yonrs too — and he wants guaran-
tees for your honesty ! "
" It's the usual thing, as he said himself," Eonald said.
" But don't be downhearted, my dear. Hopes and dis-
appointments come to every one, and we must meet them
like the rest. The world has always something for us —
even these few minutes — with your cheeks grown warm
again — and the scent of your hair— ay, and your heart as
gentle as ever."
But she was crying a little.
" Ronald — surely — it is not possible this chance should
be so near us — and then to be taken away. And can't I
do something ? I know the Glengask people will be angry
— but — but I would write to Lady Stuart — or if I could
only go to her, that would be better — it would be between
woman and woman, and surely she would not refuse when
she knew how we were placed — and — and it would be
something for me to do — for you know you've married a
pauper bride, Ronald — and I bring you nothing — when
even a farmer's daughter would have her store of napery
and a chest of drawers and all that — but couldn't I do this,
Ronald ? — I would go and see Lady Stuart^she could
not refuse me ! "
He laughed lightly ; and his hands were clasped round
the soft brown hair.
" No, no, no, sweetheart ; things will have come to a
pretty pass before I would have you exposed to any
humiliation of that sort. And why should you be down-
hearted ? The world is young for both of us. Oh, don't
you be afraid ; a man that can use his ten fingers and is
willing to work will tumble into something sooner or later ;
<and what is the use of being lovers if we are not to have
our constancy tried ? No, no ; you keep a brave heart ; if
this chance has to be given up, we'll fall in with another ;
nnd maybe it will be all the more welcome that we have had
to wait a little while for it."
" A liitle while, Ronald ? " said she.
He strove to cheer her and reassure her still further ;
although, indeed, there was not much time for that ; for
he had been commanded to dine with ]\Ir. Hodson at half-
A PLEDGE REDEEMED 465
past seven ; and he knew better than to keep the man who
might possibly be his master w^aiting for dinner. And
presently Meenie and he were going quietly along the
snow-hushed road ; and he bade her good-bye — many and
many times repeated — near the little garden-gate ; and
then made his way back to the inn. He had just time to
brush his hair and smarten himself up a bit when the pretty
Nelly — who seemed to be a little more friendly and indulgent
towards him than in former days — came to say that she had
taken the soup into the parlour, and that the gentleman was
waiting.
Now Mr. Hodson was an astute person ; and he sus-
pected something, and was anxious to know more ; but he
was not so ill-advised as to begin with direct questions.
For one thing, there was still a great deal to be talked over
about the Balnavrain estate — which he had almost decided
on purchasing ; and, amongst other matters, Ronald was
asked whether the overseer of such a place would consider
£400 a year a sufficient salary, if a plainly and comfortably
built house were thrown in ; and also whether, in ordinary
circumstances, there would be any difficulty about a young
fellow obtaining two sureties to be responsible for him.
From that it was a long way round to the Doctor's daughter ;
but Mr. Hodson arrived there in time ; for he had brought
for her a present from his own daughter ; and he seemed
inclined to talk in a friendly way about the young lady.
And at last he got the whole story. Once started, Ronald
spoke frankly enough. He confessed to his day-dreams
about one so far superior to him in station ; he described
his going away to Glasgow ; his loneliness and despair
there ; his falling among evil companions and his drinking ;
the message of the white heather ; his pulling himself up ;
and Mecnie's sudden resolve and heroic self-surrender.
The private marriage, too — yes, he heard the whole story
from beginning to end ; and the more he heard the more
his mind was busy ; though he was a quiet kind of person, and
the recital did not seem to move him in any way whatever.
And yet it may be doubted whether, in all the county of
Sutherland, or in all the realm of England, there was
any happier man that night than Mr. Josiah Hodson. For
here was something entirely after his own heart. His pet
2 H
466 WHITE HEATHER
hobby was playing the part of a small beneficent Providence ;;
and he had already befriended Eonald, and was greatly
interested in him ; moreover, had he not promised his
daughter, when she lay apparently very near to death, that
Ronald should be looked after ? But surely he had never
looked forward to any such opportunity as this ! And then
the girl was so pretty — that, also, was something. His
heart warmed to the occasion ; dinner being over, they
drew their chairs towards the big fireplace where the peats
were blazing cheerfully ; Ronald was bidden to light his
pipe ; and then the American — in a quiet, indifferent, sen-
tentious way, as if he were talking of some quite abstract
and unimportant matter — made his proposal.
" Well, now, Ronald," said he, as he stirred up some of the
peats with his foot, " you seemed to think that £400 a year
and a house thrown in was good enough for the overseer of
that Balnavrain place. I don't know what your intentions
are ; but if you like to take that situation, it's yours."
' Ronald looked startled — but only for a moment.
" I thank ye, sir ; I thank ye," he said, with rather a
downcast face. " I will not say I had no suspicion ye were
thinking of some -such kindness ; and I thank ye — most
heartily I thank ye. But it's beyond me. I could not get
the securities."
"Well, now, as to that," the American said, after a
moment's consideration, " I am willing to take one security
— I mean for the whole amount ; and I want to name the
person myself. If Miss Douglas will go bail for you — or
Mrs. Strang, I suppose I should call her — then there is no
more to be said. Ronald, my good fellow, if the place is
worth your while, take it ; it's yours."
. A kind of flash of joy and gratitude leapt to the younger
man's eyes ; but all he could manage to say Avas — •
"If I could only telU?r.'"
" Well, now, as to that again," said Mr. Hodson, rising
slowly, and standing with his back to the fire, " I have got
to take along that present from my daughter — to-morrow
morning would be best ; and I could give her the informa-
tion, if you wished. But I'll tell you what would be still
better, my friend : you just let me settle this little affair
with the old people — with the mamma, as I understand.
A PLEDGE REDEEMED 467
I'm not much of a talkist ; but if you give me permission
I'll have a try ; I think we might come to some kind of a
reasonable understanding, if she doesn't flatten me with
her swell relations. Why, yes, I think I can talk sense to
her. I don't want to see the girl kept in that position ;
your Scotch ways — well, we haven't got any old ballads in my
country, and we like to have our marriages fair and square
and aboveboard : now let me tell the old lady the whole
story, and try to make it up with her. She can't scold my
head off."
And by this time he was walking up and down the room ;
and he continued —
" No ; I shall go round to-morrow afternoon, when we
come back from the fishing. And look here, Ronald ; this
is what I want you to do ; you must get the other boat
down to the lake — and you will go in that one — and get
another lad or two — I will pay them anything they want. I
can't have my overseer actiug as gillie, don't you see — if I
am going to talk with his mother-in-law ; you must get out
the other boat ; and if you catch a salmon or two, just you
send them along to the Doctor, with your compliments — do
you hear, your compliments, not mine. Now "
" And I have not a word of thanks ! " Eonald exclaimed.
"My head is just bewildered "
" Say, now," the American continued quietly — in fact, he
seemed to be considering his finger-nails more than any-
thing else, as he walked up and down the room — " say, now,
what do you think the Doctor's income amounts to in the
year ? Not much ? Two hundred pounds with all expenses
paid ? "
" I really don't know," Ronald said — not understanding
the drift of this question.
" Not three hundred, anyway ? "
" I'm sure I don't know."
" Ah. Well, now, I've got to talk to that old lady to-
morrow about the prospects of her son-in-law — though she
don't know she has got one," Mr. Hodson was saying — half
to himself, as it were. " I suppose she'll jump on me when
I begin. But there's one thing. If I can't convince her
with four hundred a year, I'll try her with five — and Carry
shall kiss me the difference."
2 H 2
468 WHITE HE A THER
CHAPTER XLYIII.
THE FACTOR OF BALNAVRAIN.
Well, now, some couple of montlis or so thereafter, this
same Miss Carry was one of a party of four — all Americans
- — who set out from Lairg station to drive to Inver-Mudal ;
and very comfortable and content with each other they
seemed to be when they were eusconced in the big wag-
gonette. For a convalescent, indeed. Miss Hodson appeared
to be in excellent spirits ; but there may have been reasons
for that ; for she had recently become engaged ; and her
betrothed, to mark that joyful circumstance, had left for
Europe with her ; and -it was his first trip to English shores ;
and more especially it was his first trip to the Highlands of
Scotland ; and very proud was she of her self-imposed office
of chaperon and expounder and guide. Truth to tell, the
long and lank editor found that in many respects he had
fallen upon troublous times ; for not only was he expected
to be profoundly interested in historical matters about which
he did not care a red cent, and to accept any and every
inconvenience and discomfort as if it were a special blessing
from on high, and to be ready at all moments to admire
mountains and glens and lakes when he would much rather
have been talking of something more personal to Miss Carry
and himself, but also — and this was the cruellest wrong of all
— he had to listen to continued praises of Ronald Strang that
now and again sounded suspiciously like taunts. And on
such occasions he was puzzled by the very audacity of her
eyes. She regarded him boldly— as if to challenge him to
say that she did not mean every word she uttered ; and he
dared not quarrel with her, or dispute ; though sometimes
he had his own opinion as to whether those pretty soft dark
eyes were quite so innocent and simple and straightforward
as they pretended to be.
" Ah," said she, as they were now driving away from the
village into the wide, wild moorland, " ah, when you see
Ronald, you will see a man."
She had her eyes fixed on him.
■ " I suppose they don't grow that kind of a thing in our
country," he answered meekly ■•..■■ ■,.•;; -
THE FACTOR OF BALNA VRAIN 469
" I mean," she said with a touch of pride, " I mean a man
who is not ashamed to be courteous to women — a man wh-o
knows how to show proper respect to women."
" Why, yes, I'll allow you won't find that quality in an
American," he said, with a subtle sarcasm that escaped her,
for she was too obviously bent on mischief.
" And about the apology, now ? "
" What apology ? "
"For your having published an insulting article about
Ronald, to be sure. Of course you will have to apologise
to him, before this very day is over."
" I will do anything else you like," the long editor said,
with much complaisance. " I will fall in love with the
young bride, if you like. Or I'll tell lies about the weight
of the salmon when I get back home. But an apology ?
Seems to me a man making an apology looks about as
foolish as a woman throwing a stone : I don't see my way
to that. Besides, where does the need of it come in, any-
how ? You never read the article. It was very com-
plimentary, as I think ; yes, it was so ; a whole column and
more about a Scotch gamekeeper "
"A Scotch gamekeeper!" Miss Carry said proudly.
"Well, now, just you listen to me. Ronald knows nothing
at all about this article ; if he did, he would only laugh at
it ; but he never heard of it ; and it's not to be spoken of
here. But I mean to speak of it, by and by. I mean to
speak of it, when I make the acquaintance of — what's his
distinguished name ? "
But here Miss Kerfoot — who, with her married sister,
occupied the other side of the waggonette — broke in.
" You two quarrelling again ! " And then she sighed.
" But what is the good of a drive, anyway, when we haven't
got Doctor Tom and his banjo ? "
" A banjo — in Strath-Terry ? " Miss Carry cried. " Do
you mean to say you would like to hear a banjo tinkle-
tinkling in a country like this ? "
" Yes, my dyaw," said Miss Kerfoot coolly : she had
been making some studies in English pronunciation, and
was getting on pretty well.
" I suppose you can't imagine how Adam passed the
time without one in the Garden of Eden — wanted to play
470 WHITE HE A THER
to Eve on the moouligiit niglits— a cake-walk, I suppose —
pumpkin-pie — why, I wonder what's the use of bringing
you to Europe."
For answer Miss Kerfoot began to hum to her.^elf — but
with the words sounding clearly enough —
" Tse gwine hacJc to Dixie,
Tse (fwine back to Dixie,
Tse giviiie irliere the orange blossoms grow;
0, Td rather he in Dixie,
Td rather be in Dixie,
For travelling in the Highlands is so "
But here remorse of conscience smote her ; and she seized
Carry's hand.
" No, I won't say it — you poor, weak, invalid thiyg.
And were they worrying you about the Highlands, and the
slow trains, and the stuffy omnibus at Lairg ? Well, they
shan't say anything more to you — that they shan't ; and you
are to have everything your own way ; and I'm going to
fall in love with Eonald, just to keep you company."
But alas ! when they did eventually get to Inver-Mudal,
there was no Ronald to be found there. Mr. Murray was
there, and Mrs. Murray, and the yellow-haired Nelly ; and
the travellers were told that luncheon was awaiting them ;
and also that Mr. Hodson had had the second boat put
in readiness, lest any of them should care to try the fishing
in theafternoon.
" But where is Ronald ? " said Miss CaiTy, not in the
least concealing her vexation.
" Don't cry, poor thing," Miss Kerfoot whispered to her.
" It shall have its Ronald ! "
" Oh, don't bother ! " she said angrily. " Mr. Murray,
where is Ronald ? Is he with my father on the loch ? "
" No, no ; it's the two gillies that's with Mr. Hodson on
the loch," the innkeeper said. "And do not you know.
Miss, that Ronald is not here at ahl now ; he is away at the
place in Ross-shire."
" Oh yes, I know that well enough," she said, " but my
father wrote that he was coming over to see us for a day
or two ; and he was to be here this morning — and his wife
as well. But it is of no consequence. I suppose we had
better 2:0 in and have lunch now."
THE FACTOR OF BALNAVRAIN 471
Miss Kerfoot was covertly laughing. But there was a
young lad there called Johnnie — a shy lad he was, and he
■was standing apart from the others, and thus it was that
he could see along the road leading down to the Mudal
hridge. Something in that direction attracted Johnnie's
attention ; he came over and said a word or two to Mr.
Murray ; the innkeeper went to the gable of the house,
so that he could get a look up Tongue way, and then
he said — ■
" Oh yes, I think that will be Ronald."
" Don't you hear ? " said Miss Kerfoot, who was following
the others into the inn. " They say that Ronald is coming
right now,"
Miss Carry turned at once, and went to where the inn-
keeper was standing. Away long there, and just coming
over the bridge, was a dog-cart, with two figures in it.
She watched it. By and by it was pulled up in front of
the Doctor's cottage ; she guessed that that was Meenie
who got down from the vehicle and went into the house :
no doubt this was Ronald who was now bringing the dog-
•cart along to the inn. And then the others were sum-
moned : and presently Ronald had arrived and was being
introduced to them ; and Miss Carry had forgotten all her
impatience, for he looked just as handsome and good-
natured and modest-eyed as ever ; and it was very clear
that Miss Kerfoot was much impressed with the frankness
and simplicity of his manner ; and the editor strove to be
particularly civil ; and Mrs. Lalor regarded the new-comer
with an obviously appi'oving glance. For they all had
heard the story ; and they were interested in him, and in
his young wife ; besides they did not wish to wound the
feelings of this poor invalid creature — and they knew what
she thought of Ronald.
And how was he to answer all at once these hundred
■questions about the Ross-shire place, and the house that
was building for them, and the farm where he and his wife
were temporarily staying ?
" Come in and have lunch with us, Ronald," said Miss
Oarry, in her usual frank way, " and then you will tell us all
about it. We were just going in ; and it's on the table."
^' I cannot do that very well, I thank ye," said he, " for I
472 WHITE HEATHER
have to go Lack to the Doctor's as soon as I have seen the
mare looked after •"
" Oh, but I thought yon were coming down to the loch
with ns ! " she said, with very evident disappointment.
" Yes, yes, to be sure ! " said he. " I'll be back in a
(juarter of an hour at the furthest ; and then I'll take one
of the lads with me and we'll have the other boat got out
as well."
" But you don't understand, Ronald," she said quickly.
" The other boat is there — ready— and two gillies, and rods,
and everything. I only want you to come with us for luck ;
there's always good luck when you are in the boat. Ah,
do you know what they did to me on Lake George ? "
" Indeed, I was sorry to hear of it, Miss," said he gravely.
" Miss ! " she repeated, with a kind of reproach ; but she
could not keep the others waiting any longer ; and so there
was an appointment made that they were all to meet at the
loch side in half an hour ; and she and her friends went
into the house.
When it came to setting out, however, Mrs. Lalor
begged to be excused ; she was a little bit tired, she said,
and would go and lie down. So the other three went by
themselves ; and when they got down to the loch, they not
only found that Ronald was there awaiting them, but also
that Mr. Hodson had reeled up his lines and come ashore
to welcome them. Of course that ^vas the sole reason.
At the same time the gillies had got out three remarkably
handsome salmon and put them on the grass ; and that
was the display that met the eyes of the strangers when
they drew near. Mr. Hodson was not proud ; but he ad-
mitted that they were good-looking fish. Yes ; it was a fair
morning's work. But there were plenty more where these
came from, he said encouragingly ; they'd better begin.
Whereupon Miss Carry said promptly —
" Come along, Em. Mr. Huysen, will you go with pappa,
when he is ready ? " And Ronald will come with us, to give
us good luck at the start."
Miss Kerfoot said nothing, but did as she was bid ; she
merely ca.£t a glance at Mr. Huysen as they were leaving ;
and her eyes were demure.
However, if she considered this manoeuvre — as doubtless
THE FACTOR OF BALNAVRAIN 473
she did — a piece of mere wilful and perverse coquetry on
the part of her friend, she was entirely mistaken, It
simply never would have entered Miss Carry's head that
Ronald should have gone into any other person's boat, so
long as she was there — nor would it have entered his head
either. But besides that, she had brought something for
him ; and she wished to have time to show it to him ; and
so, when the boat was well away from the shore, and when
he had put out both the lines, she asked him to be so kind
as to undo the long case lying there, and to put the rod
together, and say what he thought of it. It was a salmon-
rod, she explained ; of American make ; she had heard
they were considered rather superior articles ; and if he
approved of this one, she begged that he would keep it.
He looked up with a little surprise.
" Ye are just too kind," said he. " There's that beautiful
rug that you sent to my wife, now "
" But isn't it useful ? " she said, in her quick, frank way.
" Isn't it comfortable 1 When you were coming along this
morning, didn't she find it comfortable ? "
" Bless me ! " he cried. " Do you think she would put a
beautiful thing like that into a dog-cart to be splashed with
mud, and soiled with one's boots ? No, no ; it's put over
an easy-chair at the Doctor's until we get a house of our
own, and proud she is of it, as she ought to be."
And proud was he, too, of this beautiful rod — if he
declared that it was far too fine for this coarse trolling work ;
and Miss Kerfoot arrived at the impression that if he could
not make pretty speeches of thanks, there was that in his
manner that showed he was not ungrateful.
Nor was Miss Carry's faith in Ronald's good luck
belied ; for they had not been more than twenty minutes
out on the loch when they had got hold of something ;
and at once she rose superior to the excitement of the
gillies, and to the consternation of her American friend.
Perhaps she was showing off a little ; at all events, she
seemed quite cool and collected, as if this strain on the rod
and the occasional long scream of the reel were a usual
kind of thing ; and Ronald looked on in quiet composure,
believing that his pupil was best left alone. But alas !
alas ! for that long illness. The fish was a heavy one
474 WHITE HEATHER
and a game fighter ; Miss Carry's arms were weaker than
she had thought ; at the end of about a quarter of an
hour — during which time the salmon had been plung-
ing and boring and springing, and making long rushes in
every conceivable manner — she began to feel the strain.
But she was a brave lass ; as long as ever she could
stand upright, she held on ; then she said, rather faintly — ■
" Ronald ! "
" Take the rod," she said, " The fish isn't played out ; but
I am."
" What's the matter 'i " said he, in great alarm, as she
sank on to the seat.
" Oh, nothing, nothing," she said, though she was a little
pale. " Give Em the rod — give Miss Kerfoot the rod —
quick, Em, get up and land your first salmon."
" Oh my gracious no ; I should die of fright ! " was the
immediate answer.
But Ronald had no intention of allowing Miss Carry's
salmon to be handed over to any one else. He turned to
the gillies.
" Is there not a drop of whisky in the boat ? Quick,
lads, if you have such a thing — quick, quick ! — "
They handed him a small green bottle ; but she shrank
from it.
" The taste is too horrid for anything," she said. " But
I will have another try. Stand by me, Ronald ; and mind
I don't fall overboard."
She got hold of the rod again ; he held her right arm — •
but only to steady her.
" Carry — Carry ! " her friend said anxiously. " I wish
you'd leave it alone. Remember, you've been ill — it's too
much for you — oh, I wish the thing would go away ! "
" I mean to wave the banner over this beast, if I die for
it," Miss Carry said, under her breath ; and Ronald laughed
• — for that was more of his way of thinking.
"We'll have him, sure enough," he said. "Ay, and a
fine fish, too, that I know."
" Oh, Ronald ! " she cried.
For there was a sudden and helpless slackening of the
line. But she had experience enough to reel up hard ;
and presently it appeared that the salmon was there — ^very
THE FACTOR OF BALNAVRAIN 475
much there, in fact, for now it began to go through some
performances — within five-and-twenty yards of the boat —
that nearly frightened Miss Kerfoot out of her wits. And
then these cantrips moderately slowed down ; the line was
got in shorter ; Ronald, still steadying Miss Carry's right
arm with his left hand, got hold of the clip in the other ;
and the young lady who was the spectator of all this
manoeuvring began rather to draw away in fear, as that
large white gleaming thing showed nearer and nearer the
coble. Nay, she uttered a quick cry of alarm when a
sudden dive of the steel hook brought out of the water
a huge silvery creature that the next moment was in the
bottom of the boat ; and then she found that Carry had
sunk down beside her, pretty well exhausted, but immensely
proud ; and that the gillies were laughing and vociferous
and excited over the capture ; and Eonald calmly getting
out his scale-weight from his pocket. The other boat was
just then passing.
" A good one "i " Mr. Hodson called out.
" Just over sixteen pounds, sir."
" Well done. But leave us one or two ; don't take
them all."
Miss Carry paid no heed. She was far too much ex-
hausted ; but pleased and satisfied, also, that she had been
able to see this fight to the end. And she remembered
enough of the customs of the country to ask the two gillies
to take a dram — though it had to come from their own
bottle ; she said she would see that that was replenished
when they got back to the inn.
It was a beautiful clear evening as they all of them —
the fishing having been given up for the day — walked away
through the meadows, and up into the road, and so on to
the little hamlet ; the western sky was shining in silver-
gray and lemon and saffron ; and there was a soft sweet
feeling almost as of summer in the air, though the year was
yet young. They had got six fish all told ; that is to say,
Mr. Hodson's boat had got one more in the afternoon ;
while Miss Carry had managed to pick up a small thing of
eight pounds or so just as they were leaving off. The fact
was, they did not care to prosecute the fishing till the last
moment : for there was to be a little kind of a dinner-
4/6 WHITE HE A THER
celebration that evening ; and no doubt some of them
wanted to make themselves as smart as possible — though
the possibilities, as a rule, don't go very far in the case of a
fishing-party in a Highland inn — all to pay due honour to
the bride.
And surely if ever Meenie could lay claim to the title
of Rose-Meenie it was on this evening when she came
among these stranger folk — who were aware of her story,
if not a word was said or hinted of it — and found all the
women be-petting her. And Mrs. Douglas was there,
radiant in silk and ribbons, if somewhat austere in manner ;
and the big good-natured Doctor was there, full to over-
flowing with jests and quips and occult Scotch stories ; and
Mr. and Mrs. Murray had done their very best for the
decoration of the dining-room — though Sutherlandshire in
April is far from being Florida, And perhaps, too. Miss
Carry was a little paid out when she saw the perfectly
servile adulation which Mr, J. C. Huysen (who had a sen-
sitive heart, according to the young men of the N. Y . Suii)
laid at the feet of the pretty young bride ; though Mr.
Hodson rather interfered with that, claiming Mrs. Strang
as his own. Of course. Miss Kerfoot was rather down-
hearted, because of the absence of her Tom and his banjo ;
but Eonald had promised her she should kill a salmon on
the morrow ; and that comforted her a little. Mrs. Lalor
had recovered, and was chiefly an amused spectator ; there
was a good deal of human nature about ; and she had eyes.
Altogether it was a pleasant enough evening ; for, al-
though the Americans and the Scotch are the two nations
out of all the world that are the most madly given to after-
dinner speech-making, nothing of the kind was attempted :
Mr. Hodson merely raised his glass and gave " The Bride ! "
and Ronald said a few manly and sensible words in reply.
Even Mrs. Douglas so far forgot the majesty of Glengask
and Orosay as to become quite complaisant ; perhaps she
reflected that it was, after all, chiefly through the kindness
of these people that her daughter and her daughter's
husband had been placed in a comfortable and assured
position.
Ronald and Meenie had scarcely had time as yet to
cease from beins: lovers : and so it was that on this same
THE FACTOR OF BALNAVRAIN 477
night he presented her with two or three more of those
rhymes that sometimes he still wrote about her when the
fancy seized him. In fact, he had written these verses as
he sate on the deck of the big screw-steamer, when she was
slowly steaming up the Raasay Sound.
0 loliaVs the sweetest thing there is
In all the wide, wide worlds —
A rose that hides its deepest scent
In the petals closely curled?
Or the Iwney thafs in the clover;
Or the lark's sonq in the morn;
Or the wind that hloics in summer
Across the fields of corn ;
Or the dew that the queen of the fairies
From her acorn-chalice sips?
Ah no; for sweeter and sweeter far
Is a Jiiss from Meenie's lips !
And Meenie was pleased — perhaps, indeed, she said as
much and showed as much, when nobody was by ; but all
the same she hid away the little fragment among a mass
of similar secret treasures she possessed ; for she was a
young wife now ; and fully conscious of the responsibilities
of her position ; and well was she aware that it would
never do for any one to imagine that nonsense of that kind
was allowed to interfere with the important public duties
of the factor of Balnavrain.
THE EXD.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, Limited,
BTAMFORD STREET ASD CHAKIKG CUOSS.
The followmq is a complete list of the new llnlf-Croicn Edition
of Mr. Black's ]>/ovels, and the probable order of their
monthly issue beginning January 1892.
A Daughter of Heth. (Beady.) Sunrise. (Beady.)
The Strange Adventures of a
Phaeton. (Heady.)
A Princess of Thule. (Beady.)
In Silk Attire. (Ready.)
Kilmeny. (lieady.)
Madcap Violet. (Ready.)
Three Feathers. (Ready.)
The Maid of Killeena. (Ready.)
Green Pastures and Piccadilly.
(Ready.)
Macleod of Dare. (Ready.)
Lady Silverdale's Sweetheart.
(Ready.)
White Wings. (Ready.)
The Beautiful Wretch.
(Ready.)
Shandon Bells. (Ready.)
Adventures in Thule. (Ready.)
Yolande. (Ready.)
Judith Shakespeare. (Ready.)
The Wise Women of Inverness.
(Ready.)
White Heather. (Ready.)
Sahina Zembra.
The Strange Adventures of a
House Boat
In Far Lochaber.
The Penance of John Logan.
Prince Fortunatus.
London: SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY, Limited,
St. DnxsTAN'd House, Fbttks Lane.
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