Part 14

Adjusting his plaid over her, and placing his arm around her slender waist to support her tottering steps, he guided her homewards by the light of the moon through the rugged moor by a short path. Often as they went did each of them secretly remember how auspiciously the morning sun had shone upon them as they had danced lightly together over the blooming heather! But they were both too much sunk by the unfortunate issue of their day's adventures, believing as they, poor things, foolishly did, that the powers of evil themselves had combined to thwart them; they were too much sunk, I say, to be able to utter much more than monosyllables to each other, or such words at least as were expressive of gratitude to Heaven for having permitted them to yescape with life, whilst an indefinite dread of the fate that awaited them hung secretly lowering over each of their minds.

Lights blazed within the white-washed windows of Donald Rose's cottage as it appeared on a knoll before Mary's dizzy eyes. Whether these might indicate her father's presence or not, she could not daur to guess. The poor lassie was so feared, that she hesitated to approach the door herself; yet she felt that there was still greater danger there for Robin, and, with a delicate pressure of the young lad's hand, she bade him tenderly farewell.

"Robin, haste ye hame to the Limekilns," said she. "Ye maunna face my father. Leave me to face him mysell."

"No!" said Robin boldly and with peculiar emphasis, "I ha'e noo faced mair than your father, Mary; and sae I'm no ga'in' to flee your father himsell, though he does wear a durk. Gif he be comed hame, ye may the mair want my help to meet him."

Fearfully alarmed for the consequences, and still more apprehensive for her father's wrath against him than against herself, she endeavoured to argue with him on the folly of his rashness; and whilst they were both engaged in an animated and somewhat imprudently loud discussion on this subject, they were startled by the voice of Mysie Morrison, who came suddenly upon them from the cottage.

"Bless ye, my bairns, is that you?" exclaimed this good domestic. "What i' the warld has keepit ye sae lang oot daffin'? An' is that the end o' a' your courtin' after a', that you're to come hame an' end it that gate wi' a colly-shangy?"

"Has my father come back frae the market yet, Mysie?" tremblingly demanded Mary.

"Na, he's no come hame yet," replied the old woman, "and I'm thinkin' that he'll no be comin' hame the night noo. I 'se warrant he's been weel set wi' some drouthy customer, an' he'll hae staid whar he wuz. But come ye're ways in, my bairns, an' get some meat; I trow ye maun be clean starvin'."

With Robin's recollection of the spectre which he had beheld riding by the loch-side he had little heart, at that hour, to cross the wide muir that lay between Donald Rose's house, where he then was, and his father's cottage on the hill of the Limekilns. He much preferred the risk of meeting Donald's substantial body of flesh and blood, dirk and fury and all, within the four walls of a well lighted up room, to having his moonlight path crossed upon the heath by the terrific simulacrum or wraith which had already blasted his sight. In addition, therefore, to the seducing attractions which Mary's society held out to him, coupled with those urgent admonitions which he was receiving at that moment from hunger and thirst, he had thus some vurra strong and powerful secret reasons for preferring to remain, to which he did not choose to give utterance. Mary, for her part, was sorely buffeted between her wishes and her fears. She had every desire to do that hospitality to her lover which her own faintness began to remind her must now be so highly necessary to him. On the other hand, she had the strongest apprehension that her father might suddenly return, in spite of all that Mysie had said to the contrary, and she thus hung for a moment in dootful equilibrio, as a body may say, between the two opposing forces which were thus operating on her. But Mysie, who was much less timorous, having done all she could to assure her that there was no danger of a surprise, she at length hushed her fears and tacitly yielded to her wishes. She and Robin, therefore, were soon seated over some comfortable viands by a blazing hearth, whilst Mysie, with a judgment and prudence that might have well befitted an attendant of Queen Dido herself when she took refuge from the storm with the Trojan king in the cave, retired to make security doubly sure, by setting herself to watch at the window of the neighbouring apartment, where, by the light of the moon, she might see her master return, so that she might give timeous notice to Robin Stuart to yescape by the back-door, whilst old Rose was occupied in putting his horse into the stable.

This was well enough arranged in the old woman, gentlemen. Caius Julius Cæsar himself could not have made better dispositions to have prevented a night surprise. But, as our immortal bard, William Shakespeare, hath it, in the words which he hath put into the mouth of the lively Rosalind, time goes at different paces with different individuals. Upon this occasion it certainly went fast enough with Robin Stuart and Mary Rose. For, though their minds were for a short time crossed occasionally by very fearful visions of the past, of some of which they dared hardly to speak to each other, yet these were soon banished altogether by their mutual smiles, and by the ardent and endearing expressions which they went on interchanging together. Swift flew the minutes, and their conversation was still waxing more and more interesting. They were seated close together; and, as their tender dialogue became more intensely moving, Robin's arm had unconsciously found its way around Mary's waist, whilst hers had fallen carelessly over his shoulder, and had accidentally carried with it the folds of his plaid, which she had not yet thrown off. The cheerful gleam from the blazing moss-fir faggots threw a strong effect of light from the ample chimney over their figures. They indeed believed, from their inaccurate calculation, that this their felicity had endured for some short half hour only, whilst, by the drowsy account of old Mysie, who had sat nodding, and every now and then catching her head up to save it, if she possibly could, from dropping irrecoverably into the lap of Morpheus, the god of sleep, four good hours had gone by. As the truth probably lay between, I shall take the mean of these two extremes, and therefore I may say, with some degree of confidence, that about two hours had yelapsed when she at last yielded to the soporific influence, and fell into a sleep so profound, that ere it had endured for ten minutes, ten cannons or ten claps of thunder could hardly have awakened her; and whilst matters were in this state the door of the apartment where Robin and Mary were so comfortably seated as I have just described them to be,--the door of the apartment was suddenly opened, and Donald Rose himself, covered with mud from neck to heel, and with a countenance pale and haggard as death, entered,--followed, gentlemen, still stranger to tell, by--Harry Stuart, the herd of the Limekilns! The surprise by which the lovers were thus taken was perfectly complete. Their presence of mind was altogether gone. They started up together at once, without even attempting to unfold or withdraw their arms from the different positions which they had respectively assumed, whilst the drapery of the plaid hung over both of them, mingled with the garlands which they still wore. They stood as if they had been converted into statues.

"Gude keep us a' frae evil!" cried Donald Rose the moment he entered, whilst, to their utter astonishment, he started back as he said so, his eyes glaring at them with a ghastly look of fear and horror that was much too natural not to be perfectly genuine. "Gude keep us frae a' evil, are ye wraiths or are ye real? The same plaid! the same garlands! and the same guise! Speak! speak! what are ye? But I see," continued he, after a pause, during which he recovered himself a little; "I see, Gude be thankit! that ye are baith flesh and bluid."

"Aye, flesh and bluid we are," said Robin Stuart, summoning up all his resolution and speaking in a determined tone. "We are flesh and bluid truly, and I trust that we shall soon be one flesh and one bluid too! Our souls are already as one! sae let not ane auld man's avarice rend asunder twa leal hearts already joined by Heeven!"

"Joined by Heeven, indeed, Rabby!" replied old Rose, with a solemn and mysterious air; "and Heeven forbid that sic a miserable vratch as I am sould daur to interfere. What Heeven hath joined let not man put asunder! O bairns! bairns!" continued he, as he swopped himself down into his great oaken elbow chair, as if quite overcome with fatigue both of body and mind; "och, bairns! bairns! what ane awfu' gliff I hae gotten this blessed night! As I was on my road hame frae the market--an' at a decent hour, too,--for the drover an' me had but three half mutchkins a-piece whan we pairted at Grantown--whan I was on my road hame, as I was sayin', an' just as I was gaein' to pass round this end o' the Witches' Loch, to cross at the bit fuirdy yonder, what does I see, it gars my very flesh a' creep again to think on't--what does I see, I say, but your twa figures, as plain as I see ye baith at this precious moment, in thay very garments ye hae on, an' wi' thay very garlands about your necks, an' shouthers, an' breasts, an' baith claspit thegither, as ye war just yenoo whan I came in. I say, I saw ye baith in that very guise, an' in that very pouster, comin' skimmin' o'er the surface o' the deep water o' the loch, wi' that very red plaid aboon ye baith for a sail. But, Gude proteck us a'!--what think ye?--The full moon was just risen in the east, an' her very light was shinin' through the twa spirits, an' aboot them there was a kind o' a glory, just like unto the mony coloured brugh that ye hae nae doot aften seen about the moon hersel'. Och me, it wuz a grusome sight! I wish I may e'er won ower wi't!"

Robin and Mary exchanged intelligent glances with each other during this part of old Rose's narrative; but he was too much overpowered with what he had seen, and too full of his subject, to observe what passed between them.

"Tak a wee drap o' this, father," said Mary, handing him a brimming cuach; "you will be muckle the better o't."

"Thank ye, thank ye, my bonny bairn!" said the farmer, giving her back the empty cuach, and kindly patting her head as he did so. "I'm sure, my dauty, it was ill my pairt to cross ye as I did. But, stay!--whaur was I?--Weel, ye see, just as the twa speerits war comin' whush athort the loch upon me far faster than ony wild duke could flee,--the very dumb brute that I was on started back wi' fear, whurled aboot in a moment, an' whuppit me awa' back o'er the moss in spite o' mysel', regairdless o' ony road; and I trow I never stoppit till I wuz on the t'ither side o' Craig Bey, whar, by good luck, I forgathered wi' Harry o' the Limekilns there--fear, like death, will pit oot the fire o' the auldest feud; and whan Harry heard the cause o' my flight,--for whan he met me I was fleein' like a muir-cock down the wund,--I say, whan Harry heard o' what an a sight I had seen, an' he bein', as it were, in some degree conneckit wi' it, as weel as mysel', I trow he wuz as glad to hae me wi' him as I wuz to hae him wi me, wi' the houp o' keepin' aff waur company. Harry had nae better wull to gae by the Witches' Loch than I had, and sae we cam' ower by the short cut through the lang moss thegither. A bonny road, truly, for sic an afu' late hour of the night, for a' that we had the moon, as ye may see well eneugh by the dabbled state o' my trews. I'm sure my puir beast 'ill no be able to crawl the morn after a' the gliffin', an' galloppin', aye, an' I may say soomin' too, that he has had, for I hae some doots gif there be ae moss hole atween Craig Bey an' this hoose that he has na' had to swatter through."

"Let me get dry stockin's for ye, father," said Mary.

"Na, my dauty, its no worth while for a' the time!" replied Donald. "An' noo, Harry, man," continued he, turning to his companion, who had been all this while standing near the door, "cum ben, man, an' sit doon; what for dinna ye sit doon? An' noo, I say, although ye are but a poor man, Harry, an' no just sae weel come by deschent as I am, wha, as ye are maybe awaur, am come o' a cousin sax times removed of the Laird of Kilravock himself, which a' the warld kens to be ane o' the maist auncientest families in Scotland,--I say, though ye are no just descended frae siccan honourable forebears, yet ye are ane honest man."

"I trust that I am sae, neebour," said Harry modestly, but with his head yereck, as ane honest man's always should be.

"Aweel, aweel!" cried old Rose impatiently, "as I was gaein' to say, we's just owerlook a' thae things, an' souther up a' oonkindness that may hae been atween us, an' sae we'll mak' the best o't, an' hae your laddie an' my lassie buckled thegither as soon as the minister can mak' them ane. Come, man, gie's your hand on't!"

"Wi' a' my heart!" replied Harry Stuart, with a good-natured chuckle; "an' I'll tell ye what it is, Carl, maybe ye'll find after a' that the son o' Harry the herd o' the Limekilns is no just sae bare a bargain as ye wad hae yemagined. The herdin' trade gif it maks little it spends less; an' I hae na been at it for better nor fifety years without layin' by a wee bit pose o' my ain; an' gif a gude bien bit hill farmie can be gotten for the twa, I'se no say but I may come doon wi' as muckle as may buy the best end o' the plenishen an' stockin'."

"That's my hearty cock!" exclaimed old Rose, slapping Harry soundly on the back. "Mary, my dauty! I was sae muckle the better o' the wee drap ye gied me yon time, that I think neither Harry nor me wad be the waur o' anither tasse."

It would be yequally vain and unnecessar, gentlemen, for me to attempt to describe the happiness of the two lovers, or the general joy of that night. If Homer or Maro were alive, and here present, they would fail to do justice to such a theme. I may shortly conclude by simply telling you, however, that Mysie's slumbers were rudely broken by the stentorian voice of her master,--that she was speedily put to work at her yespecial occupation in the kitchen,--that the rustic feast was quickly spread,--that the bowl circulated, or, rather, to speak with a due regard to fack, that it passed backwards and forwards very frequently from lip to lip of the two thirsty seniors,--that the young couple were in Elysium,--that the old men were garrulously joyous,--that Mysie was frantic, and danced about like a daft woman, and that the sun peeped in upon them from the distant eastern hills ere they even began to think of terminating their revels.

DOMINIE DELIGHTED.

Grant.--Why, sir, you are quite as great as a story-teller as you are as a critic.

Clifford.--Homer or Maro could never have held a candle to you! Why your floating island would beat a steamer. But, joking apart, we are really much obliged to you for the very interesting story you have told us.

Dominie (bowing).--I am yespecially proud and happy that you are pleased with it, sir.

Author.--We are all very much indebted to you indeed, for you have helped us very agreeably over the most dreary part of our road.

The good man rose an inch or two higher than he had hitherto appeared, and his cheek glowed with satisfaction.

We had now come to the Pass of Craig-Bey, where the Grantown country opened to us. A rocky hill arose on our right, wildly wooded with tall Scottish pines, whilst, on our left, the ground declined into a hollow, through which the dark streamlet that drains the extensive peat-bog, whence the villagers of Grantown are supplied with fuel, throws itself into a deep rocky ravine, along which our road skirted. At some distance to our left, and on the farther side of the glen, a beautiful smiling portion of Highland country arose in swelling grounds, simply cultivated, amidst natural birchen groves; whilst every now and then we had a transient view directly downwards, where the stream threw itself into a fairy little holm, surrounded by tall castellated rocks, richly tinted with warm coloured mosses, and rising picturesquely from among woods of golden-leaved aspen and birch.

Clifford.--Is there no story connected with that beautiful spot below?

Author.--The place is called Huntly's Cove. It has its name from some cavity in the crag, which is said to have been the place of concealment of George, second Marquis of Huntly, in the time of Charles I.

Clifford.--I forget his history at this moment.

Author.--He was married, if I remember rightly, in 1609, to the Lady Anne Campbell, eldest daughter of Archibald, seventh Earl of Argyll; and he was, therefore, brother-in-law to Archibald, the eighth Earl of Argyll, who so strenuously exerted himself in the cause of the people against King Charles I., and who, as you may recollect, was appointed by the Convention of Estates, 16th April, 1644, commander-in-chief of the forces raised to suppress the insurrection of his brother-in-law, this very Marquis of Huntly of whom we are now talking. The Marquis, you know, rose in arms for the King in the north; but Argyll marching against him, dispersed the Royalists, and obliged Huntly to fly to Strathnaver, in Sutherland. Huntly again appeared in arms in 1645, and refused to lay them down even when commanded by the King, who was then under the control of the Parliament of 1646. He was exempted from the pardon granted on the 4th March, 1647, and he was that same year taken prisoner. I remember the peerage account of him states that his capture took place in Strathnaver--a blunder occasioned by the circumstance of his having fled to that district of country upon the first-mentioned occasion. It was in Strathaven that he was taken, and the similarity of names assisted in producing the confusion. Before his capture he lay concealed in Strathaven, or as it is very commonly called Stradaun, and when more than ordinarily alarmed by an increased activity in the search for him, he used to come over to hide himself here for greater security. I think it was an ancestor of the present Sir Neil Menzies of Castle Menzies who took him, but the legendary circumstances have escaped me, if I ever knew them.

Grant.--Thus it is that some of our most curious and valuable traditions are lost.

Clifford.--It is truly provoking that it should be so. As we have Roxburghe, and Bannatyne, and Maitland Clubs for the preservation and printing of old writings, would it not be a meritorious thing to establish a Legend Club, the object of which should be to proceed systematically throughout every part of the British dominions to collect and write down all the legendary and traditionary matter which may yet remain?

Grant.--There is no doubt that an immense mass of materials might thus be gathered together for the use of the novelist and playwright.

Clifford.--Nay, nay, Grant; but joking apart, I do think that although the great mass might be rubbishy enough, and, perhaps, much fitter for the compounder of melodramas than for anything else, croyez moi on doit cependant trouver des perles, ou plutot des diamants, dans ce grand fumier. And then when you think that the numerous fitful beams of light which might proceed from these recovered diamonds should be concentrated into one focus, it is not very impossible that history itself might receive some fresh illumination from the flame that might be kindled.

Author.--Your scheme is amusing enough, and by no means undeserving of attention; but I conceive that the utility of such a society as you speak of would very much depend upon the efficiency of its secretary.

Clifford (with an arch look).--Why, no doubt, it would so. And therefore I should propose to confer that important and distinguished post upon our new acquaintance, Mr. Macpherson here, seeing that he is so much given to searching out the truth of such things, and that he has, moreover, proved himself to be so able a narrator of them after he has found them out.

Dominie (his eyes glistening with pride and delight as he again advanced to fill that place in the line of march which he had occupied during the time we were listening to his tale).--What could be more to my mind than such an occupation! And yet, sir, seeing that I am already planted as a teacher of youth in a comfortable house in Caithness, with a small garden and a cow's grass appended thereto; to all which there falls to be added a salary, which, though small, yet sufficeth for my mainteenance, who have no wife or "charge of children," as Lord Chancellor Bacon hath it, save that of the children of other people, whence there arises to me not expense but yemolument, it would be well to know what sum of money by the year might be incoming to the holder of that secretaryship of which you have spoken; seeing that prudence bids us be sure that we move not our right foot until our left be firmly set down.

Clifford.--As to the matter of revenue, I fear there would be more of honorary dignity than of edible income attached to the situation. I would, therefore, earnestly advise you, since I now learn that your lot has already been so pleasantly cast, to hold your right foot fast in Caithness, where, were the society to go on, you might be appointed one of its honorary corresponding members.

Dominie.--Thank you, sir, your advice is good. I could by no means afford to throw away my cow's grass and potato-yard to the dogs, to say nothing of my salary, without something better. I shall therefore e'en hold as I am.

Clifford.--What mountain is that which I see rising blue and grand yonder in the eastern distance?

Grant.--I have now a right to step forward as your cicerone, Clifford, for this is the country of the great clan to which I belong. Yet I must confess that I have no great knowledge of its history. I can at least tell you, however, that the mountain you are inquiring about is Ben Rinnes, the hill which rises over the ancient house of Ballindalloch, at the junction of the rivers Avon and Spey. Ballindalloch belongs to an old family of the Grants.

Dominie.--I could tell you a curious legend about the building of the Castle of Ballindalloch, were it not deemed presumption in me to tell of the Grants in presence of so accomplished a member of the clan.

Grant.--Sir, I shall cheerfully trust to you to do justice to the Grants, and especially to the Grants of Ballindalloch; for since the Macphersons are now engrafted on the family of that house, I think you will be disposed to say nothing that may be in anywise to their disparagement.

Dominie.--God forbid that I should. They have always been kind friends of mine.

Clifford.--I protest against any more stories till after dinner. I presume we shall find an inn at Grantown, and I therefore beg leave to move that all lengthened communications be adjourned until we are fairly set in to be comfortable for the evening.

Grant.--Agreed. Now, then, follow me in at this gate that opens to our left here, and through this plantation, and I, as your cicerone here, shall show you something worth looking at.