ÀҾ˹éÒ˹ѧÊ×Í
PDF
ePub

what their mother strove so strenuously to conceal. A sergeant and his men were quartered on the household, and there they remained for many days without discovering anything.

At length the sergeant's ear was caught by the cry of a muircock heard close to the house, in the dead of the night, and night after night, though neither sight nor sound of the bird could be discovered at other times. A watch was set. Hamish was surprised in the act of receiving his supplies. The sentry challenged, and on his making no answer, ran forward and collared him. In the struggle which followed the soldier's musket went off, and the sergeant and his men lurking expectant were speedily on the scene. Hamish contrived to slip from his captor's grasp, and just as the others arrived jumped into the bushes and ran home at the top of his speed.

Had it been a dark night, that would have been the end of the adventure; but unfortunately the moon was in its third quarter, the sky clear, and objects in the open discernible as clearly as by day.

The soldiers gave chase, cracking branches guided them in which direction to run, and after they had crossed the belt of wood about the house, they could descry the fugitive plainly enough as he ran before them. They did not fire, but merely followed, counting on his bringing them to a nest of rebels, where they would be able to make several captures at once.

Hamish reached the shieling only in time to warn his master and bid him escape by the back when the soldiers arrived in front. He closed and attempted to hold the door against them that his master might gain a few strides in advance. It was all he could do.

The soldiers pushed, and, finding resistance, fired a volley through the door, and Hamish fell shot through the body. The men rushed in and passed through. Poor Hamish dragged himself after them, and reached the open air in time to see his master fired at, wounded, overtaken, and bound. Then he fainted.

The laird was carried to his house prisoner, and very speedily they mounted him on horseback regardless of his wound, and bore him south to his fate-the gallows. He was able, however, to confide the lifeless body, as he believed it, of his faithful servant to his lady's care, and so soon as the soldiers were gone she had it brought down to Cairndhu. Hamish proved to be still alive, though badly wounded, and it was a solace to the poor lady, too sure of what her husband's fate would be, to nurse his devoted follower.

Hamish's wound healed quickly, but yet the man would not get well. He seemed unwilling to recover, and as if he thought himself unworthy to live. There was a weight on his mind which would not lighten, a fury in his soul which took delight, as it were, to heap remorse upon himself.

Ach, Hamish!' they would hear him muttering to himself, 'let fire unquenchable burn Hamish. She wad lead the rid-coats to ta laird's houf, whan she sud haff rin to ta hill! Burn red fires 'at neffer goes out, an' burn Hamish 'at wass not wise enuff to lead ta sogers away from ta master!'

They gave Hamish his pipes-he had been the laird's piper before the rebellion, but became body servant when he went to join the Prince-when he grew strong enough to blow them, and great comfort he appeared to find in them, though the skirling din over all the house brought little comfort to the other inmates. It was not his old tunes which he played-the gatherings and battle songs which had used to be played before the lairds when they went out to fight. He just sat and crooned,' as Aunt Elspeth expressed it, over his pipes, with stifled whistlings and hummings, and now and then an eldricht screech which brought the hearts of the household into their very throats.

It was not till weeks after the laird's capture, and his death had taken place in the meantime, that these musical broodings matured themselves into a form of sound. By special grace, and after much interest had been exerted, the poor remains which could no longer feel the tyrant's vengeance were given up to the family; and the mournful company of his children, which fetched them, was approaching the house, when down from the loft where he had lain strode Hamish MacTavish, shouldering his pipes, and met his dead master at the front door with a lament so agonisingly shrill and mournful as ear had never listened to before. He spoke not to anyone, but stalked on in front, raising with his pipes a sorrowful outcry which drowned every other sound. Up the stairs he went, and along the passages till he reached the chamber where the dead man was to lie that night, and there by the threshold he dropped on his knees, and the wailing of his pipes sank in what seemed an agony of deprecating entreaty to the dead. It was observed that as the corpse was borne past him he was seized with a tremor which choked him, and rendered his melody nearly inarticulate; and when once the bearers with their burden had entered the chamber and the door

was closed, there broke forth a tempest of tumultuous agony which resounded through the old house from turret to cellar, and made the heart of every hearer stand still with awe.

It was in vain that the widow and her household bade him go take rest and be still; he vowed never to take rest again, and seemed to be but half in the world around him, hearing and understanding little save what accorded with his frantic grief. All through that afternoon and night he blew and blew on his pipes the same distracting lamentation, and when at length the mouthpiece slipped from between the exhausted lips, and the weary elbow forgot to press the bag, the half-unconscious figure continued to kneel in the same distraught and conscience-stricken posture; the lips would move and mutterings be overheard, asking why he had not taken to the hill rather than bring the red-coats on the laird's retreat, cursing and bidding himself go hang, like that other who betrayed his Master.

When the laird was buried Hamish insisted on leading the procession, and would not be brought away with the rest when the rite was ended. All through that night-and it was stormy with wind and sleet-the scream of his pipes could be heard on the passing gusts; in the morning Hamish lay dead across the grave, and they buried him, still clasping his pipes in a dead man's grip, at the feet of his master.

Since then, whenever the Laird of Cairndhu is about to die, Hamish comes back and plays his lament, heard only by the members of the family, and by them wherever they may be.

In time came news that my father had fallen in the battle of Sobraon, fighting the Sikhs.

III.

My brother Hector was not very old when he succeeded my father, nor very wise, perhaps; but an old woman may be forgiven for saying that he was without question the handsomest man I ever saw. He was twenty-four, and excusably unwilling to quit the army and settle down to a humdrum country life. At this time the regiment was ordered to South Africa, which was hard on the young man just come into his property; but there was no help for it. To Africa he must needs go, and Africa proved his ruin.

They were sent far up the country, to keep the native tribes in check. It was a lonely station, without society or any amuse

ment except shooting; and after he had bagged his hippopotamus or two, and his brace of lions, and sent us a bundle of wild beast skins to ornament the library at Cairndhu, he grew tired of it and longed for society; and what he had been used to all his life -female society.

There was only one lady at the station, the major's wife; not a very nice person, I fear, though I never saw her. It was said that her husband had carried her to Africa with him because he could not trust her at home in his absence; but then he was old and cross, and had what people call a difficult temper.

If Hector found life dull in Caffir-land it could not have been cheerful for a lady there; and I fancy the two fell into a way of mitigating their boredom by sharing it.

The major's wife must have been ten years older than Hector, so I will not believe that there was any truth in the scandalous stories which soon began to circulate. The stories did circulate, however, and the husband, who appears to have been both a fool and a savage, began to act as gentlemen never do to their wives. The lady declared she would not remain with him, and my poor Quixotic brother, feeling bound to stand by the woman whose name had got mixed up with his own-in the talk of some idle fools-eloped with her. He had to leave the service after that; though, owing to the family interest, he was allowed to sell out instead of being dismissed; but his prospects for life were blighted. He was bound to this woman who had disgraced herself by a tie more binding to a high-spirited gentleman than marriage itself. He could not bring her home to Cairndhu, and he could not live with her anywhere in Great Britain without constant danger of meeting persons who knew their story, and could not avoid making the situation unpleasant, so they went to Canada, which forty years ago was a good hiding-place from Mrs. Grundy. There used to be little known about that colony in the mother country, as, owing either to the fierceness of the climate or the slowness with which fortunes were made, it was a good deal like the grave: nobody returned to disclose its secrets, though inquiring friends were always told that the emigrants were happy.

We heard little of or from Hector, except when he acknowledged receipt of his rents. He resided in different parts of the country; made trial both of farming and town life, and finally interested himself in mining operations. But, in truth, my re

collections of those years are engrossed by affairs of a more personal nature, relating to my marriage.

Hector by-and-by began to write for money. Stock in the funds and other investments were sold, and the proceeds remitted. Then came orders to send more, even if Cairndhu had to be mortgaged. That was done; the property was his own, and he had a right to make his own use of it, though we might and did remonstrate while complying, and wondered why he did not write to acknowledge the money, which nevertheless was received, as we learned by-and-by from the banker through whom the remittance was made.

His silence became intelligible when one evening in the gloaming, as Aunt Elspeth and I were sitting together, we heard Hamish's pipes again. We knew then that Hector was dead or dying, and we did not look for any other intimation, for of course we did not expect a letter from her.

It was strange how calmly we received the warning; but custom, I suppose, can familiarise with anything. We cried, it is true, but only the tears which were natural as we thought over his misguided life, and we waited for such particulars as his solicitor or some one would be sure to send. We wrote to my brother Colin, the next heir, asking his instructions, and made every preparation for transferring the property to the new proprietor except announcing the demise of his predecessor. We could not do that on the mere authority of a message from the other world, Mr. Pittendreigh said; and he had a good deal of trouble in persuading my aunt not to hang up the hatchment over the church pew, or put the servants into mourning. He said it would get the family a bad name for uncanny dealings, and we might even be had up before the Presbytery. That alarmed her, and she confined herself to telling people that there was a rumour, but it needed confirmation. She insisted, however, on going into mourning herself as a compromise.

The news we looked for never came, and twelve months after his last letter we had another from Hector himself. It was expressed in language wonderfully similar to the other, and quite as peremptory about money to be remitted forthwith even if Cairndhu should be mortgaged; but this time the sum required was not two thousand pounds but ten thousand.

Aunt Elspeth would not believe the testimony of her eyes. 'It could not be,' she said, 'considering what we knew; and, for

« ¡è͹˹éÒ´Óà¹Ô¹¡ÒõèÍ
 »