midst ofthem, the hobgoblin being which had just escaped from him, its greygarment fluttering, and its limbs jerking frantically as it bounded fromone to the other of its spectral partners. Edmund paused inbewilderment.
"This is fearful," he mentally ejaculated. "I confess I don't half likeit."
He then endeavoured to retrace his steps towards the stream, which heshould have followed as a guide towards the house, and at lengthdiscovered it by the sound of its murmuring waters. Hastening on, hehad almost reached the old stone bridge on which Mrs Cameron hadreceived her guests, when he perceived, as he thought, a tallHighlander, kilted, plaided, and bonneted, leaning against a tree alittle to the right of the path, in an easy attitude, with one footcrossed over the other, one hand on his side, and the other supportinghis head. His face was ghastly in its whiteness, and not less so werehis hands and knees, and Bayntun's first impulse was to hasten to hisassistance, believing him to be ill. Greatly was he startled to find,on reaching the tree against which the figure had leaned so immovably,that he was gone. Not a trace or sound of him, and in the spot he hadoccupied was a twisted thorn, from which some branches had been loppedoff. In Bayntun's excited state of imagination he never suspected thetruth, that these twisted branches, with the light shining through them,and the white wood showing where boughs had been removed, had formed thefigure he had seen. More than ever impressed with the idea that theplace was haunted, or his own brain affected, he sprang upon the bridge,and in a few minutes was heartily welcomed into the kitchen of GlenBogie, where Mrs Cameron and a stout Highland girl were busilypreparing a substantial and savoury supper.
Soon afterwards voices were heard outside, and home came the "lads," asMrs Cameron called her sons.
"Gude Lochaber stock, the whole of them," said she, giving each a heartyslap on his shoulders as he came in.
And they certainly all did credit to Lochaber, from the eldest, who wasa thoughtful-browed Highlander, to Dugald the youngest, a slight activelad of nineteen, with mirth and daring in his eye.
The supper was laid out in what had once been the dining-room of theCampbells of Glen Bogie. When it was concluded, a short consultationbetween the mother and sons was carried on in Gaelic, the result ofwhich was, that the eldest Cameron invited "Misther Hardy and his friendto take their pipes and whisky in the kitchen along with the rest ofus."
"Might we not come too?" whispered Mrs Hardy, who felt rather oppressedwith the idea of entertaining their hostess, who was rather deaf, in thedreary parlour.
To the kitchen they all adjourned, where a bright peat-fire glowed onthe ground, in the centre of the wide chimney. Some of the dogs hadcrept in actually behind it, and lay dozing with one ear always on thealert. Wooden settles were placed in the ingle-nook for the young men,and the guests were accommodated with heavy high-backed chairs. MrsCameron drew her spinning-wheel towards her, and for a few minutes therewere no sounds but its busy hum, and the roaring of the wind down thechimney, and amongst the old trees, and the ceaseless voice of the burnchafing in its rocky bed.
"Was there not some sad story of a quarrel between the Campbells and theStewarts of this neighbourhood?" asked Helen of the company in general,very much afraid of hearing her own voice, but still more afraid oflosing the delight of hearing the story, whatever it might be, on thevery spot where the events took place.
"Neighbourhood!" repeated Mrs Cameron, "a neighbourhood should be aplace where neighbours meet as friends, and the Campbells and Stewartsnever can be friends. Did not I see a bonnie bride of the house ofStewart leave her father's house with a Campbell for her husband, andwas not blood shed even on the threshold? for, as the horses started offwith their white cockades, one of the lads that rode them fell from thesaddle in a fit, and was trampled to death under their feet, andsickness and Borrow waited on the bride till she was at rest in hergrave. There's no peace not friendship between the Campbells andStewarts, and they should not be called neighbours."
"But, mother, the young lady was asking you about the quarrel," saidDugald, "and not wishing to mend it."
"The young lady is not angered with a foolish old wife," answered hismother, bursting into her loudest, harshest laugh, and laying her handkindly on Helen's. "She will pardon me, for I was born a Stewart, and Icannot hear with patience when any talk of the natural enemies of myfamily. Do you tell how it fell out, Ian, for your English is betterthan mine," said she, addressing her eldest son.
It should be remembered, that Gaelic being so universally spoken in theWestern Highlands, English is only acquired in a degree to be spokenfluently by people of some education, and is pronounced by them with asoftness and delicacy amounting to an appearance of affectation. IanCameron related his story deliberately, and in choice language, givingeach word and idea time to take effect before it was succeeded byanother.
"You will have heard that when the royal house of Stuart lost the day,the lands of many who had fought for the right were confiscated, andbestowed as rewards upon the Campbells and others who stood up for mightrather than right. This estate of Glen Bogie was one of them, and withit the Campbell to whom it was given received favours and authority,which he used as you would expect from a man that was not born to it,and had got it by ill means. They that would rule over a Highlandermust find their way to the heart, and must trust him as one honest mantrusts another. Campbell never did that. He knew that he was notloved, nor welcome, but still there was not a man--from a Stewart to aMcCall--that would have raised a hand against him, except it were inopen fight.
"You will have seen the rocky peak of Skuliahams, which shuts in thehead of Glennaclach, as you came up the Toberdhu; that is the streamwhich we call the Blackwater. Just to the right of that peak there is apass over the hill, and for eight miles the way is rough and dreary.Often have I travelled that road by night and day, and with the snowdrifting in my face I have thought never to see my own fireside again.Campbell had gone by that pass to collect rents, but he did not returnwhen they expected him. His wife grew alarmed, for she knew the heartsof the tenants were not with him; so she sent first one, then another,of his people, and lastly she went herself to watch for them on thehill-side, whence she could see far up the glen. Singly the peoplecrossed the hill, but they all returned together, and amongst them theycarried the corpse of Campbell, who had been shot dead in the woodbeyond the hills, which was on the property of a Stewart. The widowwent out to meet them; but she shed no tears nor spoke a word. Some sayshe had been _warned_.
"They brought him across the meadow yonder, and carried him up into theroom overhead, and the Campbells came from far and near, and vowedvengeance upon the Stewarts; and it is said that as they hung up thedead man's plaid, all stiff with his blood, so they swore to hang up aStewart on the spot where Campbell was found dead. There was a show oflaw, too; for having fixed their suspicions upon a tenant-farmer likemyself, a man named Stewart, they tried him by a jury--all ofCampbells--and in the wood they hanged him, within sight of sixresidences of Stewarts; and watch was kept, day and night, lest the bodyshould be removed. Vengeance and law they called it, but it was murder;for before the bones of their victim had whitened on the gibbet, it wasdiscovered that Campbell had been shot by a foreign soldier who had someprivate quarrel with him. Can the Stewarts and Campbells be friendsafter that?"
There was a pause, and the young Highlanders sat looking sternly intothe glowing fire. Tramp, tramp, came, heavy steps overhead, as ofseveral persons moving some heavy burden. Bayntun felt his heart beatfaster. He would not for worlds have let any one suspect it. Even MrsHardy, drew involuntarily nearer to her husband, and Helen's eyes openedwider, while the most ghastly spectre would not have burst upon hersight unexpected.
"The lassies are putting the Doctor's room in order for your friend,Misther Hardy. Maybe he is not used to rough lodging, and it is wellfor him that, the Doctor being at the house of Glennaclach to-night, Ican give him the room," said Mrs Cameron.
Dugald made some remark in Gaelic, with a
mischievous glance towardsBayntun, but was sternly checked by his mother. Nevertheless, Bayntunperceived it, and determined more resolutely than ever not to divulgethe strange sights and fancies which had haunted him.
Night had fairly closed in, and the reflection of the lights in the roommingled on the window-panes with the other objects outside, just lightedby a crescent moon, when, as Bayntun glanced towards the window, heperceived close to it the face of the hideous goblin which had hauntedhim in the day, and at the same moment came that fearful chuckle.
"Poor Marie Vhan," said Mrs Cameron, rising and going to the door;"where has the wild creature been straying?"
"Marie has been naughty to-day," said Dugald, speaking in English fromfear of another rebuke from his mother: "she has been tossing andtearing the fleeces
Foxholme Hall, and Other Tales Page 33
