Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! (Volume II)

ddish cloud. Accordingly the sky overhead was of a summer-like blue; and the sea was of a shining green, save where it grew opaque and brown as it neared the shore; while the welcome sunligh

the handwriting with startled eyes, then to

nt if you are not engaged. I am going down to the

ISR

d to the

id this

the hall table, sir-j

er-was a solitary figure that he instantly recognised. He went quickly down the steps; he did not stay to ask what this might mean, or to prepare himself in any way

re angry with me

t furred collar round your neck? It is so col

clining: she waited for h

with a lot of things-that I can hardly explain. Not with you personally-at least-well,

g sentences were so insufficien

ho was that

ked sur

mean Mr.

who is he?-what is he?-how did yo

began to s

ther's-or rather he is the son of a friend of my grandfather's-

ce with you," said Vincent, bitterly, "-driving yo

lowered her

ent. Grandfather pressed me

is not for me to object. If new friends are to

ed him rep

riends are so quickly forgotten! Is that all you believe of what I have told you many a time? But-but if I have pained you, I am sorry," she continued, still with downcast lashes. "Tell me what you wish me to do. I will

e yourself, Maisrie: that will be the right thing. I have been an ass and a fool to

nce

ether bewildered him and entranced him beyond the powers of speech. For here was confession at last!-her soul had declared itself: no matter what migh

the last thing you need think about, Vincent; no man will ever come betwee

evelation had left him all trembling and overjoyed. He was almost a

a woman will-and welcome! You will marry-you will be happy-and no one will be better pleased to hear of it all than I shall. And why," she continued, with a kind o

" he protested. "You know quite well

ook he

is impossible-if you do not understand,

? I have seen in your eyes what I never saw before; and everything else is to me as nothing. Difficulties?-I don't believe in them. I see our way as clear as daylight; and there's neither man nor woman coming between us. Oh, yes, I have disc

to share his jo

etting his newspapers. And I am glad to know you are no longer vexed with me. I could no

ye, but he detained her: a wil

you have told me, perhaps! Only some little thing: could you give me a sandal-wood bead, Maisrie-could you cut one off your necklace?-and I will get a small gold case

rs unclasped the necklace; then she touched it with her lips, an

ads, Maisrie," said he, with

ve not many things to

ear something if I gav

ould like that," s

me a small white dove in ivory or mother-of-pearl, that you could wear just as if it had alighted on your breast-a pin,

aid, doubtingly, "if

t you ask? Shall I tell you, Mai

hrank

id. "No-I could

selves. Nothing more than that, Maisrie!-if you wish it. Only you must wear the little white dove-as an emblem of peace and goodwill-and a messenger bringing you good news-and a lot of things like that, that I'm too stupid to put into words. For this is a morning not to be forgotten by either of us

ing, too, Vincen

me," said he. "Till the end of

too far ahead in the

ey were leaving the breakwater and making up for the Marine

shed sl

think I shall

! Why, you must go out in the sunli

do not wish to vex you any more, Vincent. If I wen

nd it will keep you in the fresh air. Oh, yes, if I'm along in the King's Road this afternoon, I shall look out for you; and if you should happen to see me, then just remember that you have given me your sandal-wood necklace, and that I am the proudest and happiest person in the whole town of Brighton. Why, of course you must go out, both morning and afternoon," he continued, in this gay an

th grandfather this morning, will y

e quite happy, even if I see you walking up and down with the purveyor of bad sherry. It won't vex me in the least: somethin

u to come

said he-not knowing what d

And also he set to work to sketch out designs for the little breast-pin he meant to have made, with its transverse row of rubies or sapphires, with its white dove in the centre. An inscription? That was hardly needed: there was a sufficient understanding between him and her. And surely this was a betrothal, despite her timid shrinking back? The avowal of that morning

the breakwater with Maisrie Bethune. He had looked into her eyes-and never thought of any swindling! Had this sandal-wood necklace-that was sweet with a fragrance more than its own-that seemed to have still some lingering warmth in it, borrowed from its recent and secret resting-place-bee

the King's Road with Maisrie Bethune-very well. If he took her for a drive after luncheon, that would amuse her, and also was well. The time for jealous dread, for angry suspicions, for reproachful accusations, was ove

e would be face to face with them. And he had made up his mind what he meant to do. Maisrie should see that he was actuated no longer by jealous rage; that he had confidence in her; that he feared no rival now

d Maisrie, in

he st

going along to the Chain Pier, to g

he knew that the other young man was staring,

father and young Glover; but the moment that V

"We must go two and two; grandfather,

er as her companion was almost too open and marked, perhaps that was her intention.

y kind of yo

plied, rat

t I could distinguish bet

e grew

le crowd. You see, Maisrie, you hadn't given me the sandal-wood necklace then; and what is of far more consequence, you hadn't allowed your eyes to tell me what they told me this morning. So what was I to think? No harm of you, of course; but I was miserable;-and-and I thought you could easily forget; and all

ne's friends unintentionally; because in looking back, you like to think of their always being please

vened, and the other two were now a little way ahead, "I am not going to let

etter, Vincent?"

hy

ent kind of way. "Well, you kn

deal of late, then!" he

ut ere making that haphazard speech. The girl looked up a

Vincent?" she demanded,

ust at the same time you should see some one you are very fond of-in-in a position that you can't explain to yourself-well, then-- But what is the use of talking, Maisrie! I confess that I was jealous out of all reason, jealous to the verge of madness; but then I paid the pen

hune, who was eagerly discoursing on some subject or another (with magnificent emphasis of arm and stick) drew ahead again, taking his companion with him. And Vin Harris, regarding the picturesque figure of the old man, and his fine enthusiastic manner, which at all events seemed so sincere, began to wonder whether there could be any grains of truth in the story that had been told him, or whether it was a complete and malevolent fabrication. His appearance and demeanour, certainly, were not those of a profes

er is so proud of: 'Stand Fast, Craig-Roysto

at all," she

never be

"You know I have ne

to Scotland, Craig-Royston is not mentioned anywhere; and in another it is mentioned, but only in a footn

swer. "Grandfather could tell you; he

find no mention of Balloray; but of

igned; indeed, he seldom talks of it. And when I say complain, that is hardly the word. Don't you think he bears his lot with great fortitude? I am sure it is more on my account than his own that he ever thinks of the estate that was lost. And I

med, "but of course there must be such a place-there is the ballad

enly, with some di

confuses one with another? That ballad is not about Balloray; it is about Binnorie; it is 'The bonnie mill-dams o' Binnorie.' Grandfathe

on. "The two words are not unlike; I quite see how one might take the place of the other. Of

above the tall cliffs. Sometimes, of course, the four of them came together; and more than once the horsey-looking young gentleman insidiously tried to deta

s Bethune to take pity on a poor solitary bachelor, and come along and have a bit of lunch with me at the

ose with this offer; but he glanced tow

erything arranged at our lodgings; and we must not disappoint o

was gone, she turne

you be very courageous and come with us and take y

t gratefully; for surely she was trying her best to sho

ould commonplace food and drink interfere with his answering Maisrie's eyes, or thinking of her overwhelming kindness? As for old George Bethune, the sharp air and the sunlight had given him an admirable appetite; and he allowed the young p

t unfriendly towa

-twenty times-the music is so delightful. And the travelling company is said to be quite as good as the London one: Miss Kate Burgoyne has changed into it, you know, a

y, grandfather?

e must begin to work soon, Maisrie; fresh air and sunlight are all very well; but we must begin to work-while the day is

and you and he will have a smoke together; and it will be quite like old times."-And Vincent looked at her,

his face in shadow; and although his eyes, from under those shaggy eyebrows, were fixed on the stage, it was in an absent fashion, as if he were thinking of other things. And indeed he was thinking of far other things; for when, after the piece was over, those three set out to walk home through the dark streets, Maisrie and Vincent could

nd troth tho

e love sall

ll what com

ie in strong

re made in th

oot of our go

bout wi' g

t company

crowing a m

ild-fowl ar

heaven will

ow, will be

er he was overheard or not; it was entirely to himself that he was repeating the lines of the old ballad. And thereafte

congruities, of every day life. When they reached their lodgings the servant girl,

there he is

rge Bethun

sking for you, sir-an

ame out of the gloom a rat

e Bethune?

old man answered, impatien

e stranger, handing a folded piec

ot look his way at all; she busied herself with putting things on the table; her downcast face was overwhelmed with confusion and shame. For surely Vincent would know what that paper was? The appearance of the man-his hanging about-her grandfather's angry frown-all pointed plainly enough. And that it should happen at the end of this

ught it was all very fine to have a sanguine and happy-go-lucky temperament, but that he-that is, the younger man-would be glad to have this beautiful and pensive creature of a girl removed into altogether different circumstances. He knew why she was ashamed and downcast-though, to be sure, he said to himself that the serving of a writ was no tremendous cataclysm. Such little incidents must necessarily occur in the career of any one who had such an arrogant disdain of poun

and he understood her. And as he went away home through the dark, he began to recall the first occasions on which he had seen Maisrie Bethune walking in Hyde Park with her grandfather; and the curious fancies that were then formed in his own mind-that here apparently was a beautiful, and sensitive, and suffering