by Charles King
andkeeping up an animated conversation with Annie. Poor Annie, hertroubles and trials seem over now, and she looks quietly, serenelyhappy; her bonnie face--set off by that tiny flower-bedecked bride'sbonnet--is radiant with smiles.
But Matty wriggles down from Reginald's knee at last, and is off to havea game of romps with Sigmund, the splendid Dane. Sigmund isfour-and-thirty inches high at the shoulder, shaped in body somewhatlike a well-built pointer, but in head like a long-faced bull-terrier.His coat is short, and of a slatey-blue; his tail is as straight andstrong as a capstan bar. At any time he has only to switch it acrossMatty's waist, when down she rolls on the ivory-white decks. ThenSigmund bends down, and gives her cheek just one loving lick, to showthere is no bad feeling; but so tickled is he at the situation, thatwith lips drawn back and pearly teeth showing in a broad smile, he mustset out on a wild and reckless rush round and round the decks from winchto binnacle. If a sailor happens to get in his way, he is flung rightinto the air by the collision, and is still on his back when Sigmundreturns. But the dog bounds over the fallen man, and continues his madgallop until, fairly exhausted, he comes back to lie down beside Matty,with panting breath, and about a yard, more or less, of a red-ribbon oftongue depending from one side of his mouth.
Matty loves Sigmund, but she loves Oscar more, and wonders if she willever see him once again; and she wonders, too, if Sigmund and Oscar willagree, or if they will fight, which would be truly terrible to think of.
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Yonder is McGregor. He is elevated to the rank of bo's'n, and the threeother sailors that came home in the _Vulcan_ are here too. With thepile in gold and pearls they made on the Isle of Flowers, they needn'thave been now serving before the mast. This would probably be theirlast voyage, for they meant to go into business on shore. But theyloved the sea, and they loved Reginald and Dickson too. So here theywere, and many more tars also; and when the main-brace was spliced of aSaturday night, it would have been good for anyone to have come forwardto the bows and listened to the songs sung and the tales told by honestJack.
But how came Matty on board? The story is soon told, and it is a sadone. A few weeks after his marriage, being in London, and dropping intothe Savoy Hotel on the now beautiful Embankment, Reginald found Mr Hallstanding languid and lonely by the bar with a little glass of greenliquor in his hand.
"Delighted to see you! What a pleasant chance meeting to be sure!"
Then Matty ran up for her share of the pleasure, and was warmly greeted.
Ah! but Mr Hall had a sad story to tell. "I am now a lonely, childlessman," he said. "What!" cried Reginald--"is Ilda--"
"She is dead and gone. Lived but a week in Italy--just one short week.Faded like a flower, and--ah, well, her grave is very green now, and allher troubles are over. But, I say, Grahame, we have all to die, and ifthere is a Heaven, you know, I daresay we shall be all very happy, andthere won't be any more partings nor sad farewells."
Reginald had to turn away his head to hide the rising tears, and therewas a ball in his throat that almost choked him, and quite forbade anyattempt at speaking.
The two old friends stayed long together, and it was finally arrangedthat Mr Hall should pay a long visit to the old Laird McLeod, and thatReginald should have the loan of his little favourite Matty in a voyageto the South Sea Island.
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The cruise of the _Highland Mary_ was a long but most pleasant andpropitious one. They steamed through the Straits of Magellan, and weredelighted when the yacht, under, a favouring breeze, went stretchingwest and away out into the blue and beautiful Pacific Ocean.
Dickson had taken his bearings well, and at last they found themselvesat anchor in the bay off the Isle of Flowers, opposite the snow-whitecoralline beach and the barracks and fort where they had not so long agoseen so much fighting and bloodshed.
Was there anyone happier, I wonder, at seeing her guests, her dear oldfriends, than Queen Bertha? Well, if there was, it was honest Oscar onmeeting his long-lost master.
Indeed, the poor dog hardly knew what to do with joy. He whined, hecried, he kissed and caressed his master, and scolded him in turns.Then he stood a little way off and barked at him. "How could you haveleft your poor Oscar so long?" he seemed to say. Then advancing morequietly, he once more placed a paw on each of his master's shoulders andlicked his ear. "I love you still," he said.
After this he welcomed Matty, but in a manner far more gentle, for heever looked upon her as a baby--his own baby, as it were. And there shewas, her arms around his massive neck, kissing his bonnie broad brow--just a baby still.
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The Isle of Flowers was very lovely now, and the valley--
"Oh?" cried Annie, in raptures, as she gazed down the verdant strath."Surely this is fairyland itself!"
The ladies, and Jeannie as well, were the guests of the Queen during thelong, happy month they stayed on the island.
There was no more gold-seeking or pearl-fishing to any great extent.Only one day they all went up the valley and had a delightful picnic bythe winding river and under the shade of the magnolia trees. Reginaldand Dickson both waded into the river, and were lucky enough, when theycame out with their bags full of oysters, to find some rare andbeautiful pearls. They were as pure as any Scotch ever taken from theTay, and had a pretty pinkish hue.
But now Jeannie Lee herself must bare her shapely legs and feet and tryher luck. She wanted one big pearl for her dear mistress, she said, andthree wee ones for a ring for somebody. Yes, and she was mostsuccessful, and Annie is wearing that large pearl now as I write. Andthe three smaller? Well, I may as well tell it here and be done withit. McGregor, the handsome, bold sailor, had asked Jeannie to be hiswife, and she had consented. The ring was for Mac.
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On Lone Tree Mountain, assisted by the men, Dickson and Reginald soonset to digging, and found all their gold and pearls safe and sound.
And now parting time came, and farewells were said, the Queen saying sheshould live in hopes of seeing them back again.
"God bless you all, my children."
"And God bless you, Queen Bertha."
With ringing British cheers, the little band playing "Good-bye,Sweetheart, Good-bye," the _Highland Mary_ sailed slowly, and, itappeared, reluctantly, away from the Isle of Flowers. At sunset it wasseen but as a little blue cloud low down on the western horizon.
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To Matty's surprise the two great dogs made friends with each other atonce, and every day during that long voyage homewards they romped andplayed together, with merry Matty as their constant companion, and neverquarrelled even once.
British shores and the snow-white steeples and spires of bonnie Aberdeenat last! The first thing that Reginald did was to hire a carriage, and,accompanied by Annie and the honest dog Oscar, drive straight toMcLeod's cottage.
To their surprise and alarm they found the house empty and the windowsboarded up.
"Oh, Annie!" cried Reginald. "I fear the worst. Your poor uncle hasgone."
Annie had already placed her handkerchief to her eyes.
"Beg pardon," said the jarvey, "but is it Laird McLeod you're a-talkingabout? Oh, yes; he's gone this six months! Man! I knew the old manwell. Used to drive him most every day of his life. But haven't youheard, sir?"
"No, my good fellow; we have not been on shore two hours. Tell us."
"There isn't much to tell, sir, though it was sad enough. For the youngLaird o' Bilberry Hall shot himself one morning by accident while outafter birds. Well, of course, that dear soul, the old Laird, is goneback to his estate, and such rejoicings as there was you never did see."
"And he is not dead, then?"
"Dead! He is just as lively as a five-year-old!"
This was indeed good news. They were driven back to the ship, and thatsame afternoon, accompanied by Matty, after telegraphing for thecarriage to meet them, they started by train up Deeside.
Yes, the carriage was there, and not only the Laird, but Mr Hall aswell.
I leave anyone who reads these lines to imagine what that happy reunionwas like, and how pleasantly spent was that first evening, with so muchto say, so much to tell.
But a house was built for Mr Hall on the estate, and beautiful gardenssurrounded it, and here he meant to settle down.
Jeannie was married in due course, but she and McGregor took a smallfarm near to Bilberry Hall, and on the estate, while Reginald and hiswife lived in the mansion itself.
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Many years have
