An hour elapsed before he returned. He found her pacing the floor with flushed and excited face. She greeted him with a cry of joy. "I ken it a', sir, I ken it a' now," she cried. "How-what-?" "The body that was found the folk a' said was Jeamie Falcon's," she went on rapidly, "they believed it was him, sae that there must have been something about it to make them so sure." "Carrach went to Askaig by stealth to kill Jeames Falcon, and in the dark mistook this man for him!" She looked at him, her eyes bright with the enthusiasm of discovery and conviction. A pause. Then "That may be," he said thoughtfully; "but say nothing about it at present. The argument cuts two ways, and might be used against as well as for Cairnieford." 66 Hae ye learned naething frae Carrach ?" 'Naething; he's as dour and speechless as a Highland stirk; he comes of the breed." "We'll find a way to gar him speak yet," she ejaculated, determinedly, and accompanied her friend to the door where the gig was waiting. As they were seating themselves, the lad who had gone to seek Grainger came back with the intelligence that the man could not be discovered anywhere in the town. Odd," muttered the lawyer, and drove away. CHAPTER XLIII. FOUND. "Hear ye the heart-sick soun's that fa' As they neared Clashgirn they became aware that some unusual occurrence was going forward. Groups of men, Y whose sombre garments and still more sombre countenances intimated that they had come to attend the funeral, were standing about discussing some topic of more than ordinary interest, and one associated with the house, as their freqent glances toward it showed. There was a goodly gathering already, and all had not arrived yet; for James Falcon had been much liked by the country-folk, who felt it to be a duty— whether invited or not-to pay him the last testimony of their good-will by following his body to the grave. Many salutations were given to the lawyer as he drove by, but none offered to stay him or to explain the subject of their gossip. As they descended at the door, which was wide open, a man took the reins of the horse and said in a low tone"Ye'd better just gang ben, Mr. Carnegie; for I dinna think ye'll see onybody to ask ye in the noo." They entered and encountered Mrs. Begg, who was descending the stair crying and wiping the tears from her eyes with her apron as fast as they rose. "Eh, Mistress Gray!" she exclaimed the instant she caught sight of her, "what gar'd ye gie me sic a fright? What did ye gang awa' for without telling me ?" "I'll tell ye a' about that anither time-hae they nailed doon the-coffin yet? I want to see him that's in't." "For guidness sake dinna gang up the stair enow-ye'll never get the better o't. My head's in a reel, and Girzie Todd's came and turned a' thing and a' body tapsalteerie. I dinna ken what's gaun to happen neist, but surely the world's coming to an end. I wish we may a' be forgien, but it's an awful thing to think o', and-" "Come up," interrupted Mr. Carnegie briskly. Without giving Mrs. Begg time to explain her incoherent ejaculations, he hastened up the stair and Jeanie followed him. From the chamber at the head of the staircase issued low moans as of one in agony. He pushed open the door, and they entered. But the spectacle before them brought them to an abrupt standstill when then had barely crossed the thresh old. At the farthest corner stood the Laird behind a chair, which served as a support for him in the absence of his staff. His pale foxy eyes were blinking excitedly at the intruder; and with his hands he gesticulated wildly to him (from his position he only saw Mr. Carnegie at first) as if warning him to retire. But as soon as he caught sight of Jeanie close behind the lawyer, his hands dropped heavily on the chair, and he blinked at her with a blank scared visage. When he had been warning Carnegie he seemed afraid or unwilling to speak lest he should disturb the second person in the chamber; but when Jeanie showed herself he seemed unable to speak. A little nearer the door the coffin had been placed on four chairs- it was too long to fit into the box bed. The lid had not yet been nailed on; the covering had been torn down, and across the ghastly remains, the arms clutching the sides of the shell with a fierce grip, lay a woman moaning piteously. Her hair dishevelled, her clothes disarranged, the eloquent negligence of her position and ignorance of all that was passing around her, indicated what paroxysms of anguish she had passed through. It was Girzie Todd, and, like all strong natures, when once abandoned to grief, it became terrible to hear her alternate childish complainings and bursts of fury. "Aye, aye, what was an auld fisherwife's brat to them ?" she was sobbing in low hoarse tones; "what did they ken or care that ye was day and sun and life to her? My ae lamb, my bairn, my bairn. Can ye hear me noo? Do ye ken that I'm crying to ye, and will ye no say a word to me? Dawnie will miss ye sair at supper time—and oh, what a toom world ye hae left to me. And the folk dinna care; they'll glower at me, maybe, but syne they'll jist gang on wi' their wark as though there was naething wrang. Wattie, my bairn, în dule and shame ye cam'; in dule and shame ye hae been taen awa', and naebody minds that ye're dead but your lone mither." Her sobs choked all further utterance for a few minutes. the former sivuovi vo her now, and soothed her on the "Gaze? be said kindly, "I have heard what you were “But the woman's demented wi' her sorrow," shrieked the Laird, “ye canna believe a word she says.” Girzie turned on him fiercely. "Why can be no believe what I say? Are ye feared that I mean to suck onything frae you? or are ye feared yet that folk should ken that the puir daft Wattie was your bairn? I would alsirl it frue no end o' the toon to the other if I wasna mair shamed for his father nor I ever was for him." "She's raving-" "Raving?-ye say that" (with a bitter laugh), "I was raving ance and daft tae; that was when I believed ye was an honest man. But that's twenty years syne, and in a' that weary while I hae never sought bite or sup frae ye for me or my bairn, nor hae I ever tauld the folk what a fause leeing hypocrite I ken'd ye to be. It's no worth my fash to do't noo. I scorned the siller that ye would hae gien me to gang awa' frae the place lang syne, and I would do't again. Aye, I would stap these hands atwean twa mill-stanes afore I would let them touch a bodle's worth o' your gear." "Never heed the Laird or the bygane just now, Girzie," interrupted Mr. Carnegie. "Let them rest for a minute, and see if you can be calm enough to answer me a few questions." “Oh, aye, I'm calm eneuch, but is't no a queer thing, Mister Carnegie, that ony woman in her senses could ever hae thocht twice about sic a shiverin' creatur' as yon, that winna even steer a foot when he kens his ain flesh and blood has been murdered. But it's true though" (with a harsh bitter laugh). "I ance believed in him, and lippened to him, and got the reward I micht hae expected. When he got to be Laird, he couldna marry a puir servin' lass, the dochter o' Hieland fishers, though she was the mither o' his bairn. But he would hae gien me siller to gang awa', sae that the session micht never get word o't, and he micht marry some braw leddy, aiblins. But I bode here and I held my tongue just for the pleasure o' torturin' his coward soul wi' the sicht o' The langer I held my tongue the mair feared was he, and he daurna marry as he wanted, just because I was watchin' him. Oh, it was some satisfaction for the wrang he had done me to ken that he was under my thoomb, and that ony day I could shaw the folk what a black knave he was, although I would hae been sair shamed to own that sic a creatur' was the father o' my puir Wattie that's lying cauld and mangled there. O Lord, he has been sair punished for the sin that wasna his, and through him, me, and aiblins through us baith, the man wha wranged us." me. |