Foxholme Hall, and Other Tales by William Henry Giles Kingston
circumstances;while Hardy gave himself up so entirely to the pure pleasure of themoment, that his chest heaved, and his eyes filled with tears, and hecould have thrown himself down upon the heather in an ecstasy of joy.
"How dark and gloomy that glen looks between the steep mountain and theround smooth hill on the opposite side of the lake!" exclaimed HelenGrey.
"What is that glen called, Donald?" asked Mr Hardy.
"Ye ken the name as weel as any other word ye speak, Sandie, so comeaway and dinna be wasting your breath with asking idle questions," saidDonald, addressing the pony. Then, giving a leer at Helen from behindhis grizzly locks, he began singing a few words of a Gaelic song; nexthe addressed some sentences in the same language to the pony,accompanied by a chuckling laugh; after which, he tossed back his headto take another inverted view of the party, and then giving a jerk tothe short bridle by which he led the pony, he nodded to him in apatronising manner, saying, "Your memory's short, Sandie; but we shoulday pity folks that's weak in mind, and so I'll answer ye. Yon's GlenBogie, Sandie," he continued almost in a whisper; "but ye shouldna gothere in the full of the moon, Sandie, for there's sights and sounds inGlen Bogie that would make a wise man quake and loosen his teeth in hishead, much more a poor daft lad like you, Sandie. Dinna _ye_ gangthere, Sandie, to hear the Campbells come down the glen to cry thecoronach over their dead, and them dead and gone themselves thesehundred years. Ha! ha! Sandie. I heard it once mysel' when the windsoughed in the trees and the burn roared amongst the stones; and I heardthe rustle of their tartans, and when the moon shone out I saw them.Hush, Sandie! Whisht, my bonnie man! The sun shines now, and we're nogoing to Glen Bogie."
The convulsive jerks he had given to the bridle here made the pony sorestive, that Donald's whole attention was required to quiet him.
"That all sounds very delightful," said Helen, still gazing at the darkglen which branched off from the wider one up which they wereproceeding.
"Have you a fancy for spectral coronachs, Helen?" asked Hardy, smiling.
"I must go to Glen Bogie," she replied in a very decided tone.
"And what says the little wife?" continued Arthur.
"Oh, by all means give Helen an opportunity of making friends with realbogies, and in Glen Bogie they must be genuine," answered Mrs Hardy."Besides, I cannot help thinking that there really was some ghastlytragedy enacted about here in which the Campbells were concerned. GlenBogie may be the very spot."
"Oh, I hope so," exclaimed Helen, turning quite pale.
Suddenly Donald checked the pony's pace, and his own half-dancingambling steps, as, after passing a few thatched cottages roughly builtof stone, they came in sight of a moderately-sized house, with wingsadded apparently as they were required; out-buildings and farm-house,surrounded by stately beech and spreading gene or wild cherry-trees.Immediately in front of the house, which, like most Highland mansions,was slated and white-washed, a lawn, shaded by fine trees, slopedtowards the lake, where two boats were moored close to a boat-house;while the adjoining portion of the slope was laid out in a garden, nowbasking in the sunshine.
"Tread lightly, Sandie; there's sorrow and pain at hand," said Donald,in a tone so mournful and different from the wild, half-scoffing mannerhe had before adopted, that a thrill of apprehension ran through thewhole party. "There's sorrow yonder in the house of Glennaclach, and nocheering welcome for the Sassenach strangers." His keen wanderingglance had discovered one of the boats now moored to the shore, rowedhastily across the loch a few minutes before, and two figures hurryingup from it to the house. One of these he knew to be the only doctor inthe glen. There were other signs of alarm and confusion; servantshastening to and fro, cottagers meeting and pausing as if to askquestions; and with all his wildness, half of which was but assumed toexcite an interest which flattered his weak intellect, poor Donald wasan acute observer, and sincerely attached to the family of the laird ofGlennaclach, so that he readily took alarm. To the travellers, notperceiving the tokens by which he formed his suggestion, it had all theeffect of the supernatural.
"Go you forward alone, Misther Hardy," said Donald, addressing him forthe first time; "and if there's a welcome for you, come back and fetchthe ladies, and,"--here he designated Bayntun by a certain contemptuousturn of the chin towards him.
"But why should you doubt it, Donald?" asked Hardy.
"Go you forward, Misther Hardy, or I maun go myself," repeated Donaldimpatiently, and holding the pony firmly, as if determined that he atleast should not proceed.
To humour him, Hardy followed his directions, but as he neared thehouse, a sound fell upon his ear which alarmed him; a boyish voiceuttered a suppressed moan of intense suffering, repeated, yet apparentlycontrolled by an effort. Seeing him pause, one of the group of peoplewho stood with grief and terror in their countenances outside the doorcame towards him.
"Make haste, sir, if you are a doctor and can do him any good. He isnot dead, though I never thought to hear the sound of his voice againwhen the tree gave way with him, and I saw the bonnie lad go down overthe crags like a stane."
"What has happened?" inquired Hardy. "I am no doctor, but I will gladlygive any help I can."
Then followed a voluble explanation in Gaelic from the whole group,interspersed with a few words in English, from which Hardy learned thatone of the laird's younger brothers, in climbing along the crags by theside of a waterfall, had trusted his weight to a slight tree which gaveway with him, precipitating him into the rocky bed of the foamingtorrent. The doctor was now examining the injuries he had received.While the women were speaking, a young man appeared at the door and saida few words to them in a kind but determined tone, which had the effectof instantly silencing and dispersing them; and he then perceived Hardy.
"Hardy, is this your promised visit? Alone, and at this unfortunatemoment? Not that you are the less welcome," he added, shaking himwarmly by the hand, and leading him into the house.
The gleam of reason which had dictated Donald's suggestion vanished assoon as Hardy followed it, and he began indulging in crazy merriment athaving produced the excitement and alarm so visible in the faces of thethree remaining strangers. Though Bayntun would not have confessed it,his imagination was strangely excited, and his nerves shaken, when Hardyand the young laird came together from the house.
"I am sorry to say that Donald's conjecture was but too correct," saidArthur; after introducing his friend; "and I have succeeded inconvincing Glennaclach, much against his hospitable inclination, that hewould distress us all by receiving us under such circumstances." Hethen briefly explained what had happened, and his own proposition thatthey should proceed to Glen Bogie.
"Since you will positively not remain with me, it is some satisfactionto know that at Glen Bogie, notwithstanding the ill-omened connection ithas with my house, you will meet with a more hospitable reception, ifyou do not fear it for its reputation of being haunted," said the youngman. "My boats are at your service to take you there; and I am vexed atnot having the pleasure of myself introducing you to the scenery of theGlen; but in my mother's present anxiety respecting my brother, I cannotleave her even for a few hours. His hurts are not dangerous, however,and I hope to-morrow to be able to bring you all back to my house."
As he spoke, he carefully assisted the ladies to alight from the cart,returning Donald's reverential salutation kindly, and desiring him toconvey what Donald called the _thravelling_ bags down to the boat.Helen thought of Fergus McIvor, of course, though nothing could be moredissimilar from the hero of Waverley than the frank, simple-manneredyoung Highlander, who, with kind quiet courtesy, was handing Mrs Hardydown the sloping lawn. Two men were ready in the boat, which wascarefully spread with plaids, and Mr Stewart, or Glennaclach, as he wascalled in a district where the name Stewart is so frequent that it isabsolutely necessary to distinguish the proprietors by the names oftheir estates, having given his orders to the men in their nativelanguage, and placed his intended guests comfortably, gave the boat ashove of
f from the shore, and lifted his bonnet as a parting salute.
"Now you have seen a real live Highland laird, Helen," said Mrs Hardy,smiling.
As the men plied their square-handled oars, the young laird called outsomething to them in Gaelic, which made them look shy and shake theirheads.
"I want them to sing to you," said he in English; and after somehesitation, one of them struck up a wild song, which, in spite of thenasal sound he gave it, was full of beauty. So they glided over thestill waters of the loch, which was--
"All of the dazzling sheen, Like magic mirror, where slumbering lay The sun and the sky and the cloudlet grey; Which heaved and trembled and gently swung; On every shore they seemed to be
"How dark and gloomy that glen looks between the steep mountain and theround smooth hill on the opposite side of the lake!" exclaimed HelenGrey.
"What is that glen called, Donald?" asked Mr Hardy.
"Ye ken the name as weel as any other word ye speak, Sandie, so comeaway and dinna be wasting your breath with asking idle questions," saidDonald, addressing the pony. Then, giving a leer at Helen from behindhis grizzly locks, he began singing a few words of a Gaelic song; nexthe addressed some sentences in the same language to the pony,accompanied by a chuckling laugh; after which, he tossed back his headto take another inverted view of the party, and then giving a jerk tothe short bridle by which he led the pony, he nodded to him in apatronising manner, saying, "Your memory's short, Sandie; but we shoulday pity folks that's weak in mind, and so I'll answer ye. Yon's GlenBogie, Sandie," he continued almost in a whisper; "but ye shouldna gothere in the full of the moon, Sandie, for there's sights and sounds inGlen Bogie that would make a wise man quake and loosen his teeth in hishead, much more a poor daft lad like you, Sandie. Dinna _ye_ gangthere, Sandie, to hear the Campbells come down the glen to cry thecoronach over their dead, and them dead and gone themselves thesehundred years. Ha! ha! Sandie. I heard it once mysel' when the windsoughed in the trees and the burn roared amongst the stones; and I heardthe rustle of their tartans, and when the moon shone out I saw them.Hush, Sandie! Whisht, my bonnie man! The sun shines now, and we're nogoing to Glen Bogie."
The convulsive jerks he had given to the bridle here made the pony sorestive, that Donald's whole attention was required to quiet him.
"That all sounds very delightful," said Helen, still gazing at the darkglen which branched off from the wider one up which they wereproceeding.
"Have you a fancy for spectral coronachs, Helen?" asked Hardy, smiling.
"I must go to Glen Bogie," she replied in a very decided tone.
"And what says the little wife?" continued Arthur.
"Oh, by all means give Helen an opportunity of making friends with realbogies, and in Glen Bogie they must be genuine," answered Mrs Hardy."Besides, I cannot help thinking that there really was some ghastlytragedy enacted about here in which the Campbells were concerned. GlenBogie may be the very spot."
"Oh, I hope so," exclaimed Helen, turning quite pale.
Suddenly Donald checked the pony's pace, and his own half-dancingambling steps, as, after passing a few thatched cottages roughly builtof stone, they came in sight of a moderately-sized house, with wingsadded apparently as they were required; out-buildings and farm-house,surrounded by stately beech and spreading gene or wild cherry-trees.Immediately in front of the house, which, like most Highland mansions,was slated and white-washed, a lawn, shaded by fine trees, slopedtowards the lake, where two boats were moored close to a boat-house;while the adjoining portion of the slope was laid out in a garden, nowbasking in the sunshine.
"Tread lightly, Sandie; there's sorrow and pain at hand," said Donald,in a tone so mournful and different from the wild, half-scoffing mannerhe had before adopted, that a thrill of apprehension ran through thewhole party. "There's sorrow yonder in the house of Glennaclach, and nocheering welcome for the Sassenach strangers." His keen wanderingglance had discovered one of the boats now moored to the shore, rowedhastily across the loch a few minutes before, and two figures hurryingup from it to the house. One of these he knew to be the only doctor inthe glen. There were other signs of alarm and confusion; servantshastening to and fro, cottagers meeting and pausing as if to askquestions; and with all his wildness, half of which was but assumed toexcite an interest which flattered his weak intellect, poor Donald wasan acute observer, and sincerely attached to the family of the laird ofGlennaclach, so that he readily took alarm. To the travellers, notperceiving the tokens by which he formed his suggestion, it had all theeffect of the supernatural.
"Go you forward alone, Misther Hardy," said Donald, addressing him forthe first time; "and if there's a welcome for you, come back and fetchthe ladies, and,"--here he designated Bayntun by a certain contemptuousturn of the chin towards him.
"But why should you doubt it, Donald?" asked Hardy.
"Go you forward, Misther Hardy, or I maun go myself," repeated Donaldimpatiently, and holding the pony firmly, as if determined that he atleast should not proceed.
To humour him, Hardy followed his directions, but as he neared thehouse, a sound fell upon his ear which alarmed him; a boyish voiceuttered a suppressed moan of intense suffering, repeated, yet apparentlycontrolled by an effort. Seeing him pause, one of the group of peoplewho stood with grief and terror in their countenances outside the doorcame towards him.
"Make haste, sir, if you are a doctor and can do him any good. He isnot dead, though I never thought to hear the sound of his voice againwhen the tree gave way with him, and I saw the bonnie lad go down overthe crags like a stane."
"What has happened?" inquired Hardy. "I am no doctor, but I will gladlygive any help I can."
Then followed a voluble explanation in Gaelic from the whole group,interspersed with a few words in English, from which Hardy learned thatone of the laird's younger brothers, in climbing along the crags by theside of a waterfall, had trusted his weight to a slight tree which gaveway with him, precipitating him into the rocky bed of the foamingtorrent. The doctor was now examining the injuries he had received.While the women were speaking, a young man appeared at the door and saida few words to them in a kind but determined tone, which had the effectof instantly silencing and dispersing them; and he then perceived Hardy.
"Hardy, is this your promised visit? Alone, and at this unfortunatemoment? Not that you are the less welcome," he added, shaking himwarmly by the hand, and leading him into the house.
The gleam of reason which had dictated Donald's suggestion vanished assoon as Hardy followed it, and he began indulging in crazy merriment athaving produced the excitement and alarm so visible in the faces of thethree remaining strangers. Though Bayntun would not have confessed it,his imagination was strangely excited, and his nerves shaken, when Hardyand the young laird came together from the house.
"I am sorry to say that Donald's conjecture was but too correct," saidArthur; after introducing his friend; "and I have succeeded inconvincing Glennaclach, much against his hospitable inclination, that hewould distress us all by receiving us under such circumstances." Hethen briefly explained what had happened, and his own proposition thatthey should proceed to Glen Bogie.
"Since you will positively not remain with me, it is some satisfactionto know that at Glen Bogie, notwithstanding the ill-omened connection ithas with my house, you will meet with a more hospitable reception, ifyou do not fear it for its reputation of being haunted," said the youngman. "My boats are at your service to take you there; and I am vexed atnot having the pleasure of myself introducing you to the scenery of theGlen; but in my mother's present anxiety respecting my brother, I cannotleave her even for a few hours. His hurts are not dangerous, however,and I hope to-morrow to be able to bring you all back to my house."
As he spoke, he carefully assisted the ladies to alight from the cart,returning Donald's reverential salutation kindly, and desiring him toconvey what Donald called the _thravelling_ bags down to the boat.Helen thought of Fergus McIvor, of course, though nothing could be moredissimilar from the hero of Waverley than the frank, simple-manneredyoung Highlander, who, with kind quiet courtesy, was handing Mrs Hardydown the sloping lawn. Two men were ready in the boat, which wascarefully spread with plaids, and Mr Stewart, or Glennaclach, as he wascalled in a district where the name Stewart is so frequent that it isabsolutely necessary to distinguish the proprietors by the names oftheir estates, having given his orders to the men in their nativelanguage, and placed his intended guests comfortably, gave the boat ashove of
"Now you have seen a real live Highland laird, Helen," said Mrs Hardy,smiling.
As the men plied their square-handled oars, the young laird called outsomething to them in Gaelic, which made them look shy and shake theirheads.
"I want them to sing to you," said he in English; and after somehesitation, one of them struck up a wild song, which, in spite of thenasal sound he gave it, was full of beauty. So they glided over thestill waters of the loch, which was--
"All of the dazzling sheen, Like magic mirror, where slumbering lay The sun and the sky and the cloudlet grey; Which heaved and trembled and gently swung; On every shore they seemed to be