hung; For there they were seen on their downward plain A thousand times and a thousand again; In winding lake and placid firth, Little peaceful heavens in the bosom of earth."
"Where did you learn that, Alice?" inquired Hardy gently, as his wifeconcluded these lines, which she murmured rather than pronounced, as sheleaned back in the boat looking down into the water, and rippling itwith her delicate fingers.
"It is in Hogg's `Kilmeny,'" she answered. "You don't know the poem,Arthur, but we will read it some day. Kilmeny was taken away to thespirit-land, and allowed to revisit her native Scotland, to show what awoman can be and what she can do."
"And did she take you with her, Alice?" said her husband.
Mrs Hardy's cheek glowed at the implied compliment.
Soon they entered the little stream which Mr Stewart had pointed out tothem, and truly it was a lovely scene. Although evidently deep, thewater was so transparently clear that each pebble and fibre of weed wasdistinctly seen. Trees arched overhead, hanging at times so far acrossthe stream that it was difficult to manage the oars. Where it widened,little islands, covered with trees, ferns, and wild-flowers, broke itinto still narrower channels, forming leafy vistas, occasionallyterminating in the blue hills.
"Oh, what is that?" exclaimed Helen, as a large bird rose with heavyflight from a point of land which they were approaching.
"Hech! yon's ta bhird," commenced one of the rowers, with greatanimation; then, checked by the consciousness that, however well hemight be supplied with information regarding the bird, he could notcommunicate it in English, he continued in a more subdued tone, "Yon'sta bhird ye may often see nigh ta wather."
The heron, for such it was, continued to precede them up the stream,resting on a point of land till they came close to it, and thenmajestically and gloomily rising, to alight again. In about an hour theboat touched a sandy beach, surrounded with magnificent chestnut trees,amongst which the stream still ran, but so shallow and rocky a's to beunnavigable.
"And, now, are we in Glen Bogie?" asked Helen.
"Ay, ye may say that," said the man who had before spoken.
With some difficulty they followed him by the brink of the stream, as,with their bags on his arm, he led the way. The glen became darker andnarrower; gloomy firs, through which the summer wind moaned sadly,replaced the varied wood; a lofty mountain interposed its precipitousrocky side between the stream and the sun, which seemed never to shineon its troubled waters. As if placed as far as possible within the darkravine, stood the house of Glen Bogie, and immediately behind it rose agrove of firs.
"What a beautiful sketch this would make!" said Helen, as they camesuddenly upon a foaming torrent, which, descending the hill-side,emerged from the rocks, heather, and stunted trees, and fell into thestream by which they were guided.
"We must have it, Bayntun," said Hardy. "The stream is swollen byyesterday's rain, and by to-morrow would appear to less advantage."
"I shall gladly attempt to render it justice," answered Bayntun, "but itmust be a work of time."
"If you do not mind remaining, I will take Mrs Hardy and my sister onto the house and return to guide you, for I am sure they must be tired,"said Hardy.
Both ladies owned to considerable fatigue, notwithstanding theirenjoyment. In answer to Bayntun's inquiries, their guide assured himthat he would have no difficulty in finding his way to the house alone,which he preferred.
Hardy and the two ladies then climbed the rocks from which the waterfallissued, and crossed by an old stone bridge; then again descending to thestream they had left, they followed it till they arrived opposite to thehouse, when they were greeted by furious barking from a number of dogswhich simultaneously rushed from every angle of the building, rangingsavagely up and down the waterside.
They were soon hushed by the appearance of a stout middle-aged woman,dressed in a gown of dark blue linsey-woolsey and a snow-white cap, whocame out to see what had caused their noise.
"Yon's Mrs Cameron," said the guide; and in answer to her greeting,which was in Gaelic, and shouted with the full force of her strong vocalorgans, he apparently told her who her guests were, and the cause oftheir coming.
"Any from Glennaclach are welcome to my roof," said she in English,surveying them for a few minutes with her head on one side and her armsfolded across her portly person. "Go you round to the bridge, and Iwill meet you; the lads are all away, but they'll be at home the night,and meantime I will make you as welcome as a lone wife may."
Still shouting to them across the stream, she stepped out firmly overthe loose stones and met them on a high arched stone bridge, bestowingon each a hearty shake of the hand, and on Hardy a hearty thump on theshoulders, accompanied by the compliment--
"You've a right honest face, my lad."
She then spoke with respectful interest of the family at Glennaclach.
"There's no race like the Stewarts, meet them when and where you will,"added she.
Passing by several out-buildings, from which all the dogs rushed forthagain, she led the way to the principal entrance of what was once aHighland gentleman's mansion, gloomy and desolate as it now looked.
"My daughters are all married and away, and none of the lads has broughthome a bride to take their place," she said, rather sadly, and thenbursting into a loud laugh, she continued--"But I am more than wife toall of them; look here," and opening a large chest, she drew forthpieces of cloth and linen of all descriptions. "Spun it all with thesehands, and there's plenty of work in them yet; and see there," she said,triumphantly pointing to dozens of woollen hose which hung in the widechimney of the kitchen, to which she now led the way.
Then remembering that her guests must be tired and hungry, she placedupon the table oat-cake, milk, and whisky in abundance, heartilyinviting them to partake of them.
The task which Bayntun had undertaken was longer than he hadanticipated. While engaged upon it, his mind recurred more than once tothe hints he had heard of the place he was now in. Donald's apparentlyprophetic announcement of the sorrow which had befallen the family theyhad intended to visit had also taken a strange hold upon his fancy.Moreover he was tired and hungry, and whatever ascetics may say to thecontrary, the mind cannot work so healthfully in conjunction with afeeble body, as with one in such comfortable condition that none of thereasoning faculties are needed to master its sufferings. In fact, hewas neither more nor less than nervous. The spot in which he was leftwas calculated to increase these feelings, so totally lonely and silent,except the sad music of the breeze in the fir-trees, and the streamgurgling and rushing down the rocks. Just below him--for, although farbeneath the level of the top of the waterfall, he was some feet aboveits base--was a smooth grassy nook, protected from the water by a wallof black rock, in which was a shallow cave overhung by a weeping birch.
Bayntun had noticed this when he first began his sketch, but as hissight grew rather dazzled from watching the constant play of the water,and the sun sank behind the towering mountain, he lost sight of italtogether. As he concluded his work and prepared to follow hisfriends, his steps were arrested by a harsh chuckle unlike any humanvoice, but which seemed equally unlike the sound of bird or beast. Itproceeded from the cave in the grassy nook, and so excited Bayntun'scuriosity that he could not refrain from investigating its origin. Withsome difficulty he lowered himself down the face of the rock by means ofthe large ferns and bushes, and as he neared the cave the sound becamelouder and harsher, and expressive of terror. Just as he reached thespot and extended his hand to hold back the branches which overhung it,there was a shriek, and a violent rustle from within; and a form sprangout, passed him, and climbing the rock with the agility of a monkey, byclutching the boughs with its long lean arms and hands, fled away,continuing its wild chuckle.
Edmund stood paralysed. It must be something human or supernatural, buthow it came there, and whether its glaring eyes had been fixed upon himas he sat there believing himself alone, he could not guess. Resolvednot to give way to the
strange fears which came crowding into his mind,he climbed up the rock again, and crossing the bridge, followed, as hethought, the path described by the Highlander. Instead, however, ofsoon finding himself at the farm-house, he lost all view of that or anyother habitation; and pausing for a moment to peer amongst the trees forsigns of a path, he heard again that unnatural chuckle at no greatdistance from him.
"Absurd folly!" said he to himself; "it must either be a poor maniac orsome mischievous young mountaineer;" so he turned towards the sound,pushing his way through the underwood till he perceived an opening inthe wood. There, on the shadowy hill-side, in a magic circle of mossygrey stones and whins, or furze, he witnessed a ghastly dance of pallidforms tossing their arms wildly above their heads, and, in the