CHAPTER XII
EXPLAINS SOME CURIOUS FACTS
Gabrielle was silent for a moment. No doubt Stewart meant what he said;he was not endeavouring to alarm her unduly, but thoroughly believed insupernatural agencies. "I suppose you've already examined the ruinsthoroughly, eh?" she asked at last.
"Examined them?" echoed the gray-bearded man. "I should think sae,aifter forty-odd years here. Why, as a laddie I used to play there ilkaday, an' ha'e been in ilka neuk an' cranny."
"Nevertheless, come up now with me," she said. "I want to explain to youexactly where and how I heard the voices."
"The Whispers are an uncanny thing," said the keeper, with his broadaccent. "I dinna like them, miss; I dinna like tae hear what ye tell meava."
"Oh, don't worry about me, Stewart," she laughed. "I'm not afraid of anyomen. I only mean to fathom the mystery, and I want your assistance indoing so. But, of course, you'll say no word to a soul. Remember that."
"If it be yer wush, Miss Gabrielle, I'll say naething," he promised. Andtogether they descended the steep grass-slope and overgrown foundationsof the castle until they stood in the old courtyard, close to theancient justice-tree, the exact spot where the girl had stood on theprevious night.
"I could hear plainly as I stood just here," she said. "The sound ofvoices seemed to come from that wall there"; and she pointed to the grayflint wall, half-overgrown with ivy, about six yards away.
Stewart made no remark. It was not the first occasion on which he hadexamined that place in an attempt to solve the mystery of the nocturnalwhisperings. He walked across to the wall, tapping it with his hand,while the faithful spaniel began sniffing in expectancy of something tobolt. "There's naething here, miss--absolutely naething," he declared,as they both examined the wall minutely. Its depth did not admit of anychamber, for it was an inner wall; and, according to the gamekeeper'sstatement, he had already tested it years ago, and found it solidmasonry.
"If I went forward or backward, then the sounds were lost to me,"Gabrielle explained, much puzzled.
"Ay. That's juist what they a' said," remarked the keeper, with anapprehensive look upon his face. "The Whispers are only h'ard at aespot, whaur ye've juist stood. I've seen the lady a' in green masel',miss--aince when I was a laddie, an' again aboot ten year syne."
"You mean, Stewart, that you imagined that you saw an apparition. Youwere alone, I suppose?"
"Yes, miss, I was alane."
"Well, you thought you saw the Lady of Glencardine. Where was she?"
"On the drive, in front o' the hoose."
"Perhaps somebody played a practical joke on you. The Green Lady isGlencardine's favourite spectre, isn't she--perfectly harmless, I mean?"
"Ay, miss. Lots o' folk saw her ten year syne. But nooadays she seems toha'e been laid. Somebody said they saw her last Glesca holidays, but Idinna believe 't."
"Neither do I, Stewart. But don't let's trouble about the unfortunatelady, who ought to have been at rest long ago. It's those weirdwhisperings I mean to investigate." And she looked blankly around her atthe great, cyclopean walls and high, weather-beaten towers, gaunt yetpicturesque in the morning sunshine.
The keeper shook his shaggy head. "I'm afear'd, Miss Gabrielle, thatye'll ne'er solve the mystery. There's somethin' sae fatal aboot thewhisperin's," he said, speaking in his pleasant Highland tongue, "thatnaebody cares tae attempt the investigation. They div say that theWhispers are the voice o' the De'il himsel'."
The girl, in her short blue serge skirt, white cotton blouse, and bluetam-o'-shanter, laughed at the man's dread. There must be a distinctcause for this noise she had heard, she argued. Yet, though they bothspent half-an-hour wandering among the ruins, standing in the rooflessbanqueting hall, and traversing stone corridors and lichen-covered,moss-grown, ruined chambers choked with weeds, their efforts to obtainany clue were all in vain.
To Gabrielle it was quite evident that the old keeper regarded theincident of the previous night as a fatal omen, for he was mostsolicitous of her welfare. He went so far as to crave permission to goto Sir Henry and put the whole of the mysterious facts before him.
But she would not hear of it. She meant to solve the mystery herself. Ifher father learnt of the affair, and of the ill-omen connected with it,the matter would surely cause him great uneasiness. Why should he beworried on her account? No, she would never allow it, and told Stewartplainly of her disapproval of such a course.
"But, tell me," she asked at last, as returning to the courtyard, theystood together at the spot where she had stood in that moonlit hour andheard with her own ears those weird, mysterious voices coming fromnowhere--"tell me, Stewart, is there any legend connected with theWhispers? Have you ever heard any story concerning their origin?"
"Of coorse, miss. Through all Perthshire it's weel kent," replied theman slowly, not, it seemed, without considerable reluctance. "What ish'ard by those doomed tae daith is the conspiracy o' Charles LordGlencardine an' the Earl o' Kintyre for the murder o' the infamousCardinal Setoun o' St. Andrews, wha, as I dare say ye ken fra history,miss, was assassinated here, on this very spot whaur we stan'. The Earlo' Kintyre, thegither wi' Lord Glencardine, his dochter Mary, an' ane o'the M'Intyres o' Talnetry, an' Wemyss o' Strathblane, were a year latertried by a commission issued under the name o' Mary Queen o' Scots; butsae popular was the murder o' the Cardinal that the accused wereacquitted."
"Yes," exclaimed the girl, "I remember reading something about it inScottish history. And the Whispers are, I suppose, said to be theghostly conspirators in conclave."
"That's what folk say, miss. They div say as weel that Auld Nick himsel'was present, an' gied the decision that the Cardinal, wha was to beaskit ower frae Stirlin', should dee. It is his evil counsel that ish'ard by those whom death will quickly overtake."
"Really, Stewart," she laughed, "you make me feel quite uncomfortable."
"But, miss, Sir Henry already kens a' aboot the Whispers," said the man."I h'ard him tellin' a young gentleman wha cam' doon last shootin'season a guid dale aboot it. They veesited the auld castle thegither,an' I happened tae be hereaboots."
This caused the girl to resolve to learn from her father what she could.He was an antiquary, and had the history of Glencardine at hisfinger-ends.
So presently she strolled back to Stewart's cottage, and after receivingfrom the faithful servant urgent injunctions to "have a care" ofherself, she walked on to the tennis-lawn, where, shaded by the hightrees, Lady Heyburn, in white serge, and three of her male guests wereplaying.
"Father," she said that same evening, when they had settled down tocommence work upon those ever-arriving documents from Paris, "what wasthe cause of Glencardine becoming a ruin?"
"Well, the reason of its downfall was Lord Glencardine's change offront," he answered. "In 1638 he became a stalwart supporter ofEpiscopacy and Divine Right, a course which proved equally fatal tohimself and to his ancient Castle of Glencardine. Reid, in his _Annalsof Auchterarder_, relates how, after the Civil War, Lord Dundrennan, incompany with his cousin, George Lochan of Ochiltree, and burgess ofAuchterarder and the Laird of M'Nab, descended into Strathearn andoccupied the castle with about fifty men. He hurriedly put it into astate of defence. General Overton besieged the place in person, with hisarmy, consisting of eighteen hundred foot and eleven hundred horse, andbattered the walls with cannon, having brought a number of greatordnance from Stirling Castle. For ten days the castle was held by thesmall but resolute garrison, and might have held out longer had not thewell failed. With the prospect of death before them in the event of theplace being taken, Dundrennan and Lochan contrived to break through theenemy, who surrounded the castle on all sides. A page of the name ofJohn Hamilton, in attendance upon Lord Dundrennan, well acquainted withthe localities of Glencardine, undertook to be their guide. When themoon was down, Dundrennan and Lochan issued from the castle by a smallpostern, where they found Hamilton waiting for them with three horses.They mounted, and, passing quietly through the enemy's forc
e, theyescaped, and reached Lord Glencardine in safety to the north. On themorning after their escape the castle was surrendered, and thirty-fiveof the garrison were sent to the Tolbooth of Edinburgh. General Overtonordered the remaining twelve of those who had surrendered to be shot ata post, and the castle to be burned, which was accordingly done."
"The country-folk in the neighbourhood are full of strange stories aboutghostly whisperings being heard in the castle ruins," she remarked.
Her father started, and raising his expressionless face to hers, askedin almost a snappish tone, "Well, and who has heard them now, pray?"
"Several people, I believe."
"And they're gossiping as usual, eh?" he remarked in a hard, dry tone."Up here in the Highlands they are ridiculously superstitious. Who'sbeen telling you about the Whispers, child?"
"Oh, I've learnt of them from several people," she replied evasively."Mysterious voices were heard, they say, last night, and for severalnights previously. It's also a local tradition that all those who hearthe whispered warning die within forty days."
"Bosh, my dear! utter rubbish!" the old man laughed. "Who's been tryingto frighten you?"
"Nobody, dad. I merely tell you what the country people say."
"Yes," he remarked, "I know. The story is a gruesome one, and in theHighlands a story is not attractive unless it has some fatality in it.Up here the belief in demonology and witchcraft has died very hard. Getdown Penny's _Traditions of Perth_--first shelf to the left beyond thesecond window, right-hand corner. It will explain to you how verysuperstitious the people have ever been."
"I know all that, dad," persisted the girl; "but I'm interested in thisextraordinary story of the Whispers. You, as an antiquary, have, nodoubt, investigated all the legendary lore connected with Glencardine.The people declare that the Whispers are heard, and, I am told, believesome extraordinary theory regarding them."
"A theory!" he exclaimed quickly. "What theory? What has beendiscovered?"
"Nothing, as far as I know."
"No, and nothing ever will be discovered," he said.
"Why not, dad?" she asked. "Do you deny that strange noises are heardthere when there is so much evidence in the affirmative?"
"I really don't know, my dear. I've never had the pleasure of hearingthem myself, though I've been told of them ever since I bought theplace."
"But there is a legend which is supposed to account for them, is therenot, dad? Do tell me what you know," she urged. "I'm so very muchinterested in the old place and its bygone history."
"The less you know concerning the Whispers the better, my dear," hereplied abruptly.
Her father's ominous words surprised her. Did he, too, believe in thefatal omen, though he was trying to mislead her and poke fun at thelocal superstition?
"But why shouldn't I know?" she protested. "This is the first time, dad,that you've tried to withhold from me any antiquarian knowledge that youpossess. Besides, the story of Glencardine and its lords is intenselyfascinating to me."
"So might be the Whispers, if ever you had the misfortune to hear them."
"Misfortune!" she gasped, turning pale. "Why do you say misfortune?"
But he laughed a strange, hollow laugh, and, endeavouring to turn hisseriousness into humour, said, "Well, they might give you a turn,perhaps. They would make me start, I feel sure. From what I've beentold, they seem to come from nowhere. It is practically an unseenspectre who has the rather unusual gift of speech."
It was on the tip of her tongue to explain how, on the previous night,she had actually listened to the Whispers. But she refrained. Sherecognised that, though he would not admit it, he was neverthelesssuperstitious of ill results following the hearing of those weirdwhisperings. So she made eager pretence of wishing to know thehistorical facts of the incident referred to by the gamekeeper.
"No," exclaimed the blind man softly but firmly, taking her hand andstroking her arm tenderly, as was his habit when he wished to persuadeher. "No, Gabrielle dear," he said; "we will change the subject now. Donot bother your head about absurd country legends of that sort. Thereare so many concerning Glencardine and its lords that a whole volumemight be filled with them."
"But I want to know all about this particular one, dad," she said.
"From me you will never know, my dear," was his answer, as his gray,serious face was upturned to hers. "You have never heard the Whispers,and I sincerely hope that you never will."