Foxholme Hall, and Other Tales
Page 34
which were left to dry upon the whins."
"Poor body," rejoined Mrs Cameron. "It is a poor daft lassie. Herfather is one of our shepherds, and it is a sad trouble to a poor man tohave a feckless child that can do naught for herself, so she bides withme when she likes, and I give her food and shelter; but she will notstay long in any place."
As she spoke, one of the servant girls opened another door, and beganscolding the child in no gentle terms for the mischief she had done,which was serious in its way, for the fleeces had been prepared forspinning in long loose bands, and were required for her mistress'simmediate use. Instantly the wild creature fled chuckling into thewood, and up the dark dreary glen.
"It is an evil deed you have done, Lizzie, to drive the poor body fromthe door with your angry tongue," said the mistress, as she resumed herplace at the wheel.
Lizzie was out of hearing, and could not have understood had she been inthe room, but the expression of disapprobation relieved Mrs Cameron'sindignant feelings.
Bayntun's cheek glowed in the firelight at the solution of the terrificgoblin dance which had so shaken his nerves. Fortified by a goodsapper, and cheered by the sound of many voices, he now felt himselfproof against bogies of all kinds, and at an early hour the partydispersed for the night. The home-made tallow candle which lightedEdmund's spacious and gloomy apartment rendered the outlines of thedark, heavy furniture more massive and unshapely than they really were.It had been the state-room of the mansion, and was now let to a doctor,who, though possessed of considerable skill, had so lost his reputationby his intemperate habits, that he was driven to conceal his disgrace inthis unfrequented glen, where his services were valued and repaid, andhis failings easily overlooked. In a large closet adjoining were keptthe phials and jars containing his supplies of drugs, etc, and from thiscloset was a narrow staircase, with a door by which the Doctor couldcome in and go out without disturbing the family.
"It was in this room that the Campbells cried the coronach over theirdead, and here the jury sat to try poor Stewart, and the dead man'splaid was hung in that closet, and by that staircase they broughtStewart in--the false-hearted murderers!" exclaimed Dugald Cameron; andhaving courteously begged the guest to ask for anything that was wantingfor his comfort and repose, he left him to rest.
Completely yet healthfully fatigued, Edmund soon fell asleep. How longhe slept, or whether he was still dreaming, he knew not, but distinct tohis vision appeared the figure of a man leaning against the doorway ofthe closet adjoining his bedroom, from which shone a quivering spectrallight. His plaid hung heavily, as if steeped in moisture, round histall gaunt form. His bonnet was pressed down upon his brows, and underits shade his face looked pale and distorted by pain or sorrow, as hestood motionless, gazing intently upon the sleeper.
"This is a dream. The mysterious figure in the wood is haunting mymemory. I will not give way to these fancies," said Bayntun, mentally."It is a very uncomfortable dream, too," continued he, as the figure,still keeping its glazy eyes fixed upon his face, moved slowly towardshim. The old floor creaked under his steps. "Dreams are oftensuggested by some real sound associating itself with the previous trainof our thoughts. If I could but rouse myself, this phantom would bedissipated." Yet his eyes felt perfectly wide open, and there was noneof the painful sense of oppression on the eyelids and restraint upon thetongue which usually attends an unpleasant dream. Nearer and nearercame that pale, haggard face, till the sound of his breathing becameaudible. "That is myself breathing quick, and no wonder," thought he."Edmund Bayntun, why don't you rouse yourself? What a fool you are!"and uttering the last sentence with the full strength of his voice,Edmund started up, and at the same moment the spectre staggered back,exclaiming--
"Ay, sirs! That is not a civil way to speak to a gentleman, moreespecially finding himself turned out of his own bed when he comes hometo it, wet and tired."
More and more perplexed, Bayntun stammered out, "Really, sir, I beg yourpardon, but I thought--I took you--that is to say, I fancied that I wasdreaming, and I don't feel quite sure whether I am awake now."
"Waking or dreaming, my man, you should always use civil language. WhenI saw you lying so comfortably in my bed, I was just thinking I wouldleave you there, and go down myself to the kitchen fire; but really,your uncivil speech!--Ha! ha! it is a good joke, too, to be mistaken fora dream. So, good night to you, young man, and I will not disturb youagain."
The next morning the Doctor was found fast asleep in the kitchen. Hisyoung patient at the house of Glennaclach not needing his assistance somuch as another sick person in the Glen, he had left him early in theevening, and preferred coming home to Glen Bogie rather than returninglate at night to disturb the household of Mr Stewart. Early in the daythe young laird arrived, with a pressing invitation to the four Englishstrangers to come and stay at his house. They willingly accepted it,and whether they enjoyed the visit is a question to be best answered bythose who have found themselves the guests of a Highland family, amongsttheir own beautiful glens, and mountains, and woods, and waterfalls,after passing months and years in cities, and amidst "the hum, the buzz,the crush of men."
Bayntun spent much time after this in the society of his friend Hardy,and, yielding to his advice and example, adopted a more stirring,healthful, vigorous course of thought and life, and his favourite mottowas--
"Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate."
Story 8--CHAPTER ONE.
STORY EIGHT--PIPER'S NEWS--A FAIRY TALE.
There was once a piper, called Alaister Mackinnon, and he lived in thetown of Inverknickle; he played better than any other piper in all thecountry side, and was deservedly esteemed by the gude wives, as healways brought the earliest news of the events in the distant villages;for though Alaister called Inverknickle his home, he rarely stayed therelong at a time, but wandered about, hearing and telling news, andplaying at all the merry-makings that were held within twenty miles. Atthese he was always to be seen dressed in full Highland garb, with gaystreamers floating from his pipes, and his bonnet set jauntily on theside of his head, surrounded by young and old, who listened with equaldelight to his tunes and his stories. Alaister's dancing was a thing ofwhich he was very proud, as none of the lads could compete with him init; he was, therefore, not so great a favourite with them as amongst thewomen, but none dared say a word against him, as it invariably reachedhis ears, and the next time he came to the village he was sure to havesome story about them which turned the laugh against themselves. Oneday there was a wedding at a village some miles from Inverknickle, andof course Alaister was there, marching at the head of the party as itreturned from the manse, dressed in his newest kilt and hose, andplaying the most appropriate tunes, while the young men shouted andfired guns and pistols at irregular intervals to do honour to theoccasion; and every time they fired, the women screamed, and the menlaughed, and in short they were a very merry party. Then came thefeast, which was more remarkable for quantity than quality, and was heldin the house of the newly married pair; it was succeeded by dancing, thebride and bridegroom joining most energetically, but never being allowedto dance together.
Reels were the usual dances; but when the lasses were tired, and satdown and fanned themselves with their handkerchiefs, the lads began todance the sword-dance. The lasses soon asked Alaister to dance; andafter a great deal of pressing, for he always feigned modesty on suchoccasions, he danced, the men looking on anxious to catch him making afalse step, the women in silent admiration of his neat foot, silverbuckles, and new hose, which, from the beautiful shape of his leg, didnot require to be gartered.
None of the women saw that he twice touched the sword; but it was notlost on the men, who looked at each other with pleased smiles, though noone ventured to say anything, and Alaister's performance was finishedamidst loud applause.
Supper followed, which was much the same as the dinner, only there wasmore toddy, and therefore more noise; and Duncan Cameron, emboldened bythe whisky, ventured
to say that Alaister had not danced "clean" thatnight; to which Alaister answered, with a look of pity, that "Duncan,puir fellow, had never seen right since the night he had sic a fley wi'the fairies on the moor, when they shot him into a peat-moss, and theWill-of-the-Wisps ran so near him that they singed his nose, and it hadbeen red ever since." This had the effect of silencing Duncan, who hadfallen in as described when coming home tipsy from a wake, and had toldmany wonderful stories of his ill-treatment by the "gude fouk," as hecalled the fairies.
The conversation now turned on fairies, and all professed the deepestadmiration and respect for them. Alaister, however, rather laughed atthe idea of their doing anybody good or ill, and even hinted that hedoubted their existence. Then began a warm discussion; and by degreesAlaister grew bolder, and expressed in