IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 // 
 
 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 
 M 
 1 2.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 1.4 IIIIII.6 
 
 V] 
 
 <^ 
 
 /i 
 
 ^;; 
 
 '"a 
 
 
 y 
 
 /A 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. 14S80 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 ^ 
 
 iP 
 
 ,\ 
 
 (V 
 
 \\ 
 
 4f^ 
 
 ^9) 
 
 V 
 
 
 c> 
 
 >> 
 
 '^^ 
 
CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHIVI/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 
 
 <v 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibllographiques 
 
 The Institute has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for filming. Features of this 
 copy which may be bibliographlcally unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checked below. 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 n 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 □ Covers damaged/ 
 Coi V 
 
 verture endommagde 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaur6e et/ou pelliculSe 
 
 I I Cover title missing/ 
 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 I I Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes g6ographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 Reli6 avec d'autres documents 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La reliure serr^e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distortion ie long de la marge intdrieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 11 se peut que c^rtaines pages blanches ajout6es 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, 
 mais, lorsque celb 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas 6x6 film^es. 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires suppl6mentaires; 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm^ ie meiileur exempiaire 
 qu'ii lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cet exempiaire qui sont peut-6tre uniques du 
 point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier 
 une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la methods normale de filmage 
 sont indiqu6s ci-dessous. 
 
 □ Coloured pages/ 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 D 
 
 ~^ges de couleur 
 
 Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommag^es 
 
 □ Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 Pages restaur6es et/ou peliicul6es 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 Pages d6color6es, tachet^es ou piqut 
 
 Pages d6color6es, tachet^es ou piquies 
 
 Pages 
 
 Pages ditach^es 
 
 Showthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 Quality of prir 
 
 Qualiti in6gale de i'impression 
 
 Includes supplementary materit 
 Comprend du materiel suppidmentaire 
 
 I I Pages detached/ 
 
 [""^1 Showthrough/ 
 
 I I Quality of print varies/ 
 
 I I Includes supplementary material/ 
 
 Only edition available/ 
 Seule Edition disponible 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to 
 ensure the best possibk image/ 
 Les pages totalement ou partieliement 
 obscurcies par un feuiilet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc., ont 6t6 fiimdes A nouveau de fapon d 
 obtenir la meilleure image possible. 
 
 The 
 to th 
 
 The 
 poss 
 of th 
 filmi 
 
 Origi 
 begi 
 the I 
 sion, 
 othe 
 first 
 sion, 
 or ill 
 
 The 
 shall 
 TINl 
 whic 
 
 Map 
 diffe 
 entir 
 begi 
 right 
 requ 
 metl 
 
 This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est filmi au taux de reduction indiqu6 ci-dessous. 
 
 10X 
 
 
 
 
 14X 
 
 
 
 
 18X 
 
 
 
 
 22X 
 
 
 
 
 26X 
 
 
 
 
 30X 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 y 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 12X 
 
 16X 
 
 20X 
 
 24X 
 
 28X 
 
 32X 
 
The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 National Library of Canada 
 
 L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grdce d la 
 gdndrositd de: 
 
 Bibliothdque nationale du Canada 
 
 The images appearing here are the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 Les images suivantes ont 6tt reproduites avec le 
 plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la nettetd de l'exemplaire filmd, et en 
 cr>nformit6 avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the front cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprimde sont filmds en commenpant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration. soit par le second 
 plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont film6s en commengant par la 
 premidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par 
 la dernidre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol -^ (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END "), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la 
 dernidre image de cheque microfiche, salon le 
 cas: le symbole — ^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbole V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre 
 filmds it des *aux de reduction diffdrents. 
 Lorsque le document est trup grand pour gtre 
 reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir 
 de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre 
 d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la mdthode. 
 
 I ' 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 32X 
 
 1 
 
 t 
 
 3 
 
 ■ #• 
 
 i" , 
 
 6 
 
/ 
 
 AU' 
 
A Strange Message 
 
 BY 
 
 DORA RUSSELL 
 
 AUTHOR OF "FOOTPRINTS IN THK SNOW," "BENEATH THE WAVE, 
 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 Toronto : 
 WILLIAM BRYCE, PUBLISHER. 
 
Entered according to Act of Parliament of Canada, in the year one thousand eight 
 1 eighty-eight, by William Brycf. in fh* - * 
 
 Agriculture 
 
 u , . J . , '—.-ixicHi ui v^diiaaa, in tne year one thousand eieht 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MESSAGE. 
 
 ad eight 
 Dister of 
 
 It came neither by the post nor the telegraph wires ; it 
 was Iting on the toilet-table of a handsome youn|^ woman 
 when she went up to dress for dinner, before entertaining 
 a party of her friends and neighbors, and this strange com- 
 munication concerned one of these guests. 
 
 It was an ordinary enough looking letter that Leonora 
 Stewart lifted so carelessly and opened with indifference. 
 She thought it was some account, and yet the envelope 
 was thicker and the writing different to what is common 
 on tradesmen's bills. It contained only a few lines, but as 
 Miss Stewart read these her face first flushed deeply, and 
 then grew extremely pale. The words that caused this 
 emotion were very brief : 
 
 " If you have any regard for your future happiness and 
 reputation, have nothing further to do with James Bid- 
 dulph." 
 
 The girl read and re-read this message with a beating, 
 troubled heart. " Who could have written it ? Who could 
 dare to write it ?" she asked herself again and again. She 
 thought of the people staying in the house — Maud and 
 Alice Lee ; of her dead father's cousin, Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope ; but they had scarcely seen Mr. Biddulph, certainly 
 could know nothing of his life. 
 
 Then she rang the bell sharply, and her maid appeared. 
 
 " Palmer," she asked, pointing to the letter on the dress- 
 ing-table, "did you put that letter there." 
 
 "Yes, miss, I did," answered Palmer : "Alfred gave it to 
 me, and, as you were having tea, I thought I would not 
 disturb you, so I laid it there." 
 
 " Where did Alfred get it ? Go down and ask him, 
 please." 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 Miss Stewart read the disquieting words again in the 
 absence of her maid, and when Palmer appeared siie looked 
 eagerly round. 
 
 '' Well ? " she asked. 
 
 "Alfred says, miss, thai a lady rang at the hall door, 
 and desired him to give it to you at once." 
 
 "A lady? What sort of lady? Ask Alfred what the 
 lady was like." 
 
 In a short time Palmer once more returned. 
 
 " He says, miss, she was quite the lady — a youngish 
 lady." 
 
 " And — did he know her by sight ? Was she one of the 
 people about here ? " 
 
 " No, miss, he says not ; she spoke like a South-Country 
 lady." 
 
 Leoncfra Stewart asked no more questions. 
 
 '' Help me to dress," slie said ; " I am afraid I am late." 
 But before she descended to the drawing-room to receive 
 her guests, she carefully locked away the mysterious let- 
 ter, taking care that her maid did not see where she 
 placed it. 
 
 Then (also after Palmer left the room) she went to the 
 looking-glass, and stood for a few moments examining her 
 own face. A handsome woman, with her white skin and 
 dark hair and eyes, in which there was a certain nobleness 
 of expression that betokened a lofty soul. There was, in- 
 deed, nothing small nor mean about this young English- 
 woman, who had but recently inherited the Scottish home 
 in which we find hen She was the daughter and only 
 child of the late Anthony Cust, a well-known London 
 lawyer, and his Scotch wife, Janet Stewart ; and it was 
 from her mother's relations that Leonora Stewart had 
 come into possession of the small estate and large house of 
 Rossmore, which stands on the very verge of one of the 
 most beautiful lochs in the Western Highlands. 
 
 But there was a condition attached to this bequest, 
 which came from her late mother's brother — the last 
 owner of Rossmore — Leonora was to become a Stewart 
 also if she inherited the old laird's scanty acres, and the 
 girl was quite ready to do this. She knew well the beau- 
 tiful and romantic home that was to become hers ; for 
 each year, when the yellow corn vas ripening on the braes, 
 Mrs. Cust had taken her only child to visit the old house, 
 where she herself had been born. And these visits had 
 filled Leonora's young heart with an almost passionate 
 
 f 
 
lin in the 
 ihe looked 
 
 liiiil dour, 
 what the 
 
 youngish 
 one of the 
 i-Country 
 
 '. am late." 
 to receive 
 3rious let- 
 vhere she 
 
 3nt to the 
 nining her 
 
 skin and 
 nobleness 
 re was, in- 
 g English- 
 tish home 
 
 and only 
 n London 
 nd it was 
 3wart had 
 e house of 
 )ne of the 
 
 5 bequest, 
 
 — the last 
 
 a Stewart 
 
 :s, and the 
 
 the beau- 
 
 hers ; for 
 
 the braes. 
 
 Did house, 
 
 visits had 
 
 passionate 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 /f ^^TRANCI: MESSAGE. 
 
 s 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 love for tlie bhie lochs and wild mountains of her mother's 
 land. 
 
 Thus she became Miss Stewart of Rossmore when she 
 was a girl of about twenty-two, and Mr. Cust had also left 
 her a moderate fortune. She was not rich, but still very 
 far from poor, iler father's cousin, Mrs. Conway-IIope, 
 a widow of small means, had proposed to live with her 
 when she came into tlie Scotcli property, but Leonora had 
 declined. 
 
 " I shall always be pleased to see you, to stay with me. 
 Cousin Margaret," she liad answered with a smile, "but 
 as a visitor." 
 
 " But the world, Nora ;" said Mrs. Conway-Hope, with 
 mucli gravity, for she was disappointed at not securing a 
 permanent home. 
 
 " wSo I do consider it." 
 
 " Then, are you not too young, dear, not to have a cha- 
 peron constantly living under your roof.?" . 
 
 *' I shall always have friends with me." 
 
 "Yes; but mere friends are not to be depended on, 
 Nora. I never knew, until poor Conway left me, how sad 
 and dreary it is to have no one to love and cling to. We 
 could be so happy together, I am sure." 
 
 Nevertheless, Leonora did not accept her relation's pro 
 posal ; but Mrs. Conway-Hope was a frequent visitor both 
 at Rossmore and Leonora's small house in town. And she 
 was staying at Rossmore when Miss Stewart received the 
 strange message that had so greatly disturbed her. But 
 Leonora did not make a confidante of her father's cousin 
 on the subject. 
 
 And as she entered her drawing-room to receive her ex- 
 pected guests, she found Mrs. Conway-Hope already seated 
 there. 
 
 A gaunt, gray woman this, with a tall shapeless form, 
 and a manner that jarred on your nerves somehow like a 
 discordant sound. 
 
 *' Well, dear," she said, rising as Leonora appeared, and 
 looking at her scrutinizingly with her short-sighted eyes, 
 " and are you ready ? So you've got on your new red plush. 
 Well, it's a handsome material, but I am afraid tlie color 
 does not quite become you. It makes you look so 
 pale." 
 
 " I am sorry you don't like it, Cousin Margaret," answered 
 Leonora, feeling as we all do when we are told that we are 
 not looking well. 
 
A STR^I/VCK MESSAGE. 
 
 • " I like the dresa^ dear, but I don't think it suits you. No, 
 Nora, it docs not," she added, with decision. '*■ 
 
 ,.; Nora felt annoyed. She had particularly wished to look 
 well this evening, and, in truth, the deep rich hue of her 
 gown became admirably her fair skin and dark liair. But 
 when wc arc told a thing as a fact, our minds naturally veer 
 toward believing that there must be something in it ; and 
 therefore Mrs. Conway-llope, having succeeded in making 
 Nora regard her new plush with disfavor, resumed her seat, 
 feeling that she had made the kindest possible remarks to 
 lier young relation. 
 
 But this lady had a natural aptitude to be disagreeable, 
 and probably could not help it, for she esteemed herself 
 one of the saints of earth. She also esteemed herself 
 a master, or rather a mistress, of the art of conversation ; 
 and as Nora Stewart's guests began to assemble, she placed 
 herself near first one shrinking man and then the other, 
 and at last succeeded in driving the good-tempered, jovial- 
 faced clergyman of the parish into a convenient corner, 
 where she firmly kept him until dinner was announced. 
 
 Nora's party consisted almost entirely of young people. 
 Two pretty English girls — Maud and Alice Lee — were 
 staying in the house, and were in love for the time being 
 with everything Scotch, including young Malcolm Fraser, 
 one of Nora Stewart's neighbors. This young Highlander, 
 and his pretty sister Minnie Fraser, were among the first 
 to arrive. 
 
 "And where are Mr. and Mrs. Fraser ?" asked Nora. 
 
 "My mother sent her love," answered Minnie, whose 
 hair was of such pale gold color as to look almost white, 
 '* and she could not leave my father to-night ; his rheuma- 
 tism is so bad." 
 
 " What poor women have to come to, you see," said 
 Maud Lee coquettishly to young Fraser, after hearing this 
 explanation. 
 
 As the young girl said this, "Mr. Biddulph," was an- 
 nounced, and a tall, grave-faced, distinguished-looking man 
 walked rather slowly into the room; and as he did so, a 
 brighter light stole into Nora Stewart's dark eyes, and a 
 flush came on her fair cheeks, which had been so pale 
 before. 
 
 " I am afraid I am late," said Mr. Biddulph, courteously, 
 as he shook hands with his young hostess ; " but the loch 
 is so rough to-night we had to tack a bit before we could 
 cross," 
 
 St 
 
 A 
 
 an 
 
 WJ 
 
 kil 
 
 sal 
 
 m 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 l,.„^ 
 
I 
 
 syoti. No, 
 
 led to look 
 »ue of her 
 Hair. But 
 1 rally veer 
 in it ; and 
 in making 
 i her scat, 
 2marks to 
 
 grecable, 
 d lierself 
 d herself 
 ersation ; 
 fie placed 
 le other, 
 'd, jovial- 
 t corner, 
 unced. 
 r people. 
 ■ c — were 
 le being 
 I Fraser, 
 blander, 
 the first 
 
 I^ora. 
 
 whose 
 : white, 
 heuma- 
 
 J," said 
 ingthis 
 
 vas an- 
 ng man 
 
 I so, a 
 
 and a 
 
 o 
 
 pale 
 
 Jously, 
 
 e loch 
 
 could 
 
 4 
 
 "I saw it was rough before it got dark," answered Miss 
 Stewart. 
 
 " It's very intallizing, isn't it ? I can see Rossmore so 
 plainly from my place, and yet I have been more than half 
 an hour in getting here to-night ;" and he; looked at his 
 watch. 
 
 " Yoti are my nearest neighbor, as the crow flies, you 
 know." 
 
 " I wish I were a crow, then ; no, I don't think I do — the 
 sable-winged bird has so many bad qualities." 
 
 *'C)h, the poor crows ! " laughed Leonora. 
 
 "They are a noisy, quarrelsome set; bad neighbors to 
 my mind — bad to eat — and bad for the wheat." 
 
 " 1 must confess I like to hear them caw, and see them 
 veering about in their mysterious fashion among the old 
 trees." 
 
 " That is because you are young and romantic," said Mr. 
 Biddulph, smiling, and looking admiringly at Leonora's 
 face with his gray eyes, in which there was much thought 
 and some sadness. "And do you still like your wild eyrie 
 up here ?" he added. 
 
 "I love Rossmore — I have always loved it. I used to 
 come here, you know, when I was a little child, with my 
 mother. I remember Colonel Biddulph so well, though 
 we seldom saw him." 
 
 "I scarcely knew my uncle ; but he was a grim old man." 
 
 ** He was rather a misanthrope, was he not ? Yet he 
 must have been very kind to think of me as he did." 
 
 " He hated the world and its crooked ways, or the world 
 hated him. We are apt to become sour when we are dis- 
 appointed, don't you think ?" 
 
 "I have not been disappointed yet." 
 
 ** No ; it's a bitter draught — bitterest of all to be disap- 
 pointed in one's self." 
 
 Leonard looked up with interest in Mr. Biddulph's face, 
 but his eyes were cast down. 
 
 " I intended you,*' said Leonora, a moment later, with 
 that soft blush of hers which made her so lovely, " to take 
 my cousin, after the Scotch fashion — Mrs. Fraser, of Aird- 
 linn — in to dinner this evening ; but only the young people 
 are here. Therefore " 
 
 " May I take my neighbor and hostess ? " 
 
 "If you like." ' 
 
 " I more than like. Being the oldest man in the room, 
 except the parson, I have been indulging in certain gruo- 
 
8 
 
 /f s7h\'iAa/-: AfZ-sstc/'.. 
 
 some visions of liavinc: to csr ort tlic lady in hiark — I for- 
 get her name — whom I liad tiic honor t)f sitting next to tlio 
 last time I dineil here." 
 
 "You mean my father's cousin, Mrs. Conway-riopc," 
 laughed Leonora. "Well, I fully enter into your feelings. 
 Just before you came, she tinew a whole bucket of cold 
 water over my self-conceit ; she told »ne my new gown tlid 
 not become me." 
 
 " It would be presumption, 1 suppose, to say what I 
 think of the new crown ?" 
 
 " Indeed, no ; my rulTled vanity wants a little binocjtliing 
 down." 
 
 But the implied compliment was never paid. Dinner 
 was announced, and Leonora was forced to think of her 
 guests. The Rev. Andrew Macdonakl was carried off in 
 triumph by Mrs. Conway-Hope, and Malcolm Fraser was 
 obliged to offer his arm, with a somewhat lowering brow, 
 to one of the pretty P^nglish girls. But there was sup- 
 pressed wrath in the young Highlander's blue eyes, and 
 anger and jealousy in his heart, when he saw Nora Stewart 
 (as the Fraser family always called her) select Mr. Bid- 
 dulph to take her in to dinner. \\\ point of etiquette, 
 Leonora was quite right, for Mr. Hiddulph was the greatest 
 stranger present ; but this did not make the matter any 
 better to the young man, who was certainly in love. 
 
 Leonora was a good hostess, for a bright, clever woman 
 ever is one. Still, the unhappy Rev. Andrew Macdonald 
 did not enjoy his dinner. He was taken to task during the 
 soup on various occult and theoretical subjects, on which 
 it must be admitted the poor Scotch minister was not con- 
 versant ; his tormentor, for that matter, being nearly 
 equally at sea. But Mrs. Conway-Hope was one of those 
 women who make a few terms try to pass for knowledge, 
 and the Rev. Andrew had not presence of mind to perceive 
 this. His rosy face grew hot, his stalwart form shrsi : 
 visibly away from the searching eyes fixed on him, and the 
 continuous questions poured upon his unwilling ears. 
 
 "Poor fellow!" said Mr. Biddulph in a low tone to 
 Leonora, looking with sincere pity at the distressed clergy- 
 man ; " I really must try to help him. Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope," he said, raising his voice and addressing that lady, 
 who turned swiftly round, "what do you think of the last 
 new materialist idea ? " 
 
 The conversation that followed was satisfactory to them 
 both. Mrs. Conway-Hope rushed delightedly into the 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 Ml 
 
 ■I 
 
 n 
 
A ST/^.i.\'cr. MrssAC/:, 
 
 ck— I for- 
 ncxt tu the 
 
 ay- Hope," 
 ir feelings. 
 Jt of cold 
 ■gown did 
 
 y what I 
 
 'ino(jtIiing 
 
 Dinner 
 ik of her 
 icd off in 
 raser was 
 ing brow, 
 was sup- 
 3yes, and 
 a Stewart 
 Mr. Bid- 
 etiquette, 
 ; greatest 
 liter any 
 /e. 
 
 r woman 
 Eicdonald 
 iring the 
 )n which 
 not con- 
 ^ nearly 
 of those 
 )wledge, 
 perceive 
 
 shr in ■: 
 and the 
 ars. 
 tone to 
 
 clergy- 
 'onway- 
 at lady, 
 the last 
 
 o them 
 nto the 
 
 fray, and Mr. Hidchiiph had the ploasur-c of eKp-^sing her 
 ignorani «' without licr perceiving it, and pcihap-^ aho of 
 airing hisuwn opinicjns ; antl thi? relief to Llie Scou h iiiiii 
 isler, ; ^'-t, was gicai. Hut it was griMt-M Mill \\iirii t!ic 
 ladies i"o>i to leave the tabk' ; then liic Uev. Macouiiail 
 actually biealhed a sigh. 
 
 "What an extraordinary woman!" lie said pensively to 
 Mr. Hiddulph, to whom he felt very gratefid. 
 
 "Truly awful," replied Mr. liiddidph, with a l.uigh. 
 
 In the meanwhile Mrs. Conway-llope w;.:; giving her 
 opinion of the two gentlemen in the tlrawing-room. 
 
 "There is nothing in that poor Scotch clergyman," she 
 said ; "but Mr. Bid(lulph is a clever man." 
 
 The " clever man," however, avoided the snare she laid 
 to entrap him again into conversation when he returned 
 to the drawing-room. The mcx^n had risen, and was shin- 
 ing on the gray towers of Rossmore, and on the thisky 
 steps below. 
 
 "Come out on the terrace, Miss Stewart," he said, a[)- 
 proaching Leonora, and feeling sure that in October Mrs. 
 Conway-Hopc must have rheumatism in some part of 
 her angular form. " You lov the moonlight, I am quite 
 sure." 
 
 "And how are you sure ?" asked Leonora, smiling. 
 
 " By certain signs and tokens ; by that wondrous sym- 
 pathy which makes some natures open to us, while others 
 are a blank, dull page." 
 
 Tliey went out together, and stood there in the silvered 
 darkness of the night. At first both were almost silent. 
 The great stillness around, the weird white shadows 
 where the moonbeams crept through the tall dark lirs, the 
 thoughts in their own hearts, perhaps, made their lips 
 grow dumb. 
 
 Leonora was thinking, ''Shall 1 tell him, tell him he 
 has an enemy close at hand trying to do him harm." And 
 Mr. Biddulph was thinki'ig, "This is the sweetest woman. 
 If I were but free ! " And he gave an impatient sigh. 
 
 Leonora heard that sigh, and glanced up at her com- 
 panion's pale, grave face, on which at this moment a glint- 
 ing moonbeam shone. But the other young pec^ple had 
 now followed the example of their hostess, and appeared 
 on the terrace. Malcolm Fraser was hiding his ini>i:;d 
 feelings by an animated conversation with Miss Maud Lee ; 
 the Rev. Andrew Macdonald, in his mild way, wasdevoii.ig 
 himself to the younger sister ; and Mrs. Conway- Hope, 
 
M 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 mentally thinking how very ill-bred it was of Nora to leave 
 her alone, had talcen refuge in a novel. 
 
 And wliile her guests are tlius smiusing themselves, we 
 may as well learn something more of this James Biddulph, 
 whom Leonora Stewart had just been so mysteriously 
 warned not to put her trust in. 
 
 Across the broad blue waters of the loch, which lap 
 round three sides of the jutting headland on which stands 
 the house of Rossmorc, a gray substantial stone mansion 
 is to be seen, which some twenty-five years ago was built 
 by a certain Colonel Biddulph, an Englishman, who lived 
 and died there. 
 
 A gloomy, disappointed man this, who, it was said, chose 
 this lonely but lovely spot to end his days in, far away 
 from the friends of his youtli and manhood. And he sought 
 no new ones. He buried himself here alone, with his 
 books, and perhaps vague dreams and theories, which sat- 
 isfied his peculiar mind better tlian t!ie passing pleasures 
 of the world. A man must liave somctliing to hope and 
 live for, and maybe this i.^riin old hermit liad fixed his hopes 
 on a higher standard tlian tlujse with whom he used to 
 live. At all events he sought no fellowship with his kind, 
 and an accident only introduced him to his neighbor, 
 Mr. Stewart of Rossmorc. 
 
 It was in the bitter winter weather, and the loch was 
 rough and dangerous, but this did nut deter Colonel Bid- 
 dulph from crossing the water whenever it suited his con- 
 venience to do so. And one dark December afternoon, as 
 he was returning to Duubaan — s(3 his property was named 
 — a squall struck his light boat, and the old man and his 
 boatman were in imminent danger of their lives as they 
 struggled in the rough and iey surge. 
 
 The accident was seen from the windows of Rossmore, 
 and the gallant laird lost no time in hurrying to the assist- 
 ance of his ungenial neighbor, 'lisking his own life by 
 doing so, Stewart had a bo.it launched, and, with one of 
 his keepers, put off to endeavor to save the almost ex- 
 hausted men in the water ; and it was only after desperate 
 efforts they were able lo do this, and Colonel Biddulph 
 was carried into the house (if Rossmore in an entirely un- 
 conscious condition. 
 
 When he recovered, his cold stoicism melted before the 
 natural gratitude of his heart, and from that day Stewart 
 of Rossmore was a welcome y^uest under his roof. And 
 occasionally, also, he would cross the loch, and talk to the 
 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 II 
 
 )ra to leave 
 
 selves, we 
 
 Biddulph, 
 
 yrsteriously 
 
 which lap 
 ich stands 
 e mansion 
 was built 
 who lived 
 
 said, chose 
 , far away 
 I he sought 
 :, with his 
 which sat- 
 ^ pleasures 
 
 hope and 
 d his hopes 
 he used to 
 h his kind, 
 
 neighbor, 
 
 loch was 
 
 lonel Bid- 
 
 d his con- 
 
 ernoon, as 
 
 was named 
 
 in and his 
 
 ves as they 
 
 Rossmore, 
 J the assist- 
 vn life by 
 vith one of 
 almost ex- 
 r desperate 
 Biddulph 
 ntirely un- 
 
 before the 
 ay Stewart 
 oof. And 
 talk to the 
 
 laird in that hard, stern fashion of his, in which he ever 
 put the worst coloring on the motives of his fellow-men. 
 Thus Leonora had seen Colonel Biddulph, and tlie colonel 
 knew it was his friend's intention to leave his ancestral 
 acres to his sister's child. , 
 
 As vears wore oa Mr. Stewart died, and Leonora came 
 into possession of Rossmore ; and a year later, far away 
 from kith and kin, the stern old man who lived at Dunbaan 
 also passed away from a world in which some blight had 
 evidently fallen on the years of his earlier manhood. 
 
 After he was gone, every one who had lived around him 
 wondered who would be his successor. His elder brothe*', 
 General Biddulph, was dead also, and had left a widow 
 but no children. There was, however, a third Biddulph, 
 a lawyer, and a shrewd man, who had amassed a consider- 
 able fortune, and who lived stilly and was naturally sup- 
 posed to be his brother's heir. 
 
 But he was not. Dunbaan and a large sum of money 
 were left to the son of this lawyer, James Biddulph, a bar- 
 rister, and a man of some thirty years ; and after a little 
 while, about two months before Leonora Stewart received 
 a strange message about her neighbor, the nevy owner 
 had come to stay at Dunbaan. 
 
 He made Leonora's acquaintance by bringing over to 
 Rossmore a bequest which his uncle had left to the niece 
 of his old friend. This bequest consisted of a valuable 
 diamond necklace. The colonel had never been married, 
 and Leonora's neighbors wondered where the old man had 
 picked up this splendid heirloom, which he now had left 
 to a stranger, pi*obably out of gratitude to the laird. 
 
 Be this as it may, the old man's gift drew the two young 
 people into a sudden intimacy. This was but natural. It 
 was a bond between them, and between them also was a 
 strong mutual attraction. 
 
 Nevertheless, when James Biddulph descended the steep 
 road which led from Leonora's house, after her party was 
 oyer, and her guests had begun to separate, on his way tc 
 the boat, which had to convey him across the loch, tliere 
 was a frown upon his brow, and an angry, dissatisfied feel- 
 ins: in his heart. 
 
 " When a man," he was thinking, impatiently cutting at 
 a tall bracken with his walking-stick, " has hung a rope 
 round his neck, he may as well hang himself." 
 
 There was a silver track upon the waters of the loch, 
 and the whole scene was one of grand and serene beauty, 
 
12 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 but James Biddulph scarcely noticed this. He was think- 
 ing of the fair woman he had left behind, and of the light 
 in iier dark eyes as lie had clasped her hand in parting. 
 
 " But it cannot be, I suppose," he muttered gloomily; 
 and in no happy mood he at length rcacluu. the gray old 
 mansion, standing amid the dark trees, that his uncle had 
 left him. 
 
 As he parsed up the avenue there glided from behind 
 one of these trees the figure of a woman, whose face was 
 thickly veiled. This womf*n had watched his boat cross 
 the silver moon-track on the loch ; had watched and waited 
 long hours to see him pass, and now slowly followed him 
 unseen. 
 
 be 
 
 du 
 St 
 I t 
 
 f Y 
 
 ■A 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 MRS. JOCK FRASER. 
 
 Mr. Biddulph was Leonora Stewart's nearest neighbor 
 at Rossmore ; but from the lofty headland where she lived 
 she also could plainly see the Erasers' house at Airdlinn, 
 which was situated on the same side of the loch as Dun- 
 baan, though a considerable distance lay between them. 
 
 On the morning after her "your.g people" had dined 
 with Leonora, about eleven o'clock, Mrs. Fraser of Aird- 
 linn, entered the breakfast-room of her house, dressed for 
 walking. A tall woman, with rosy cheeks and bright blue 
 eyes, and a full form, and a stalwart step. She was dressed 
 in homespun, and wore a black hat, and carried a stout 
 stick, and looked strong alike in body and in mind. 
 
 Her husband, Jock Fraser of Airdlinn, as he was com- 
 monly tailed, was crouching over the fire, unhappy man ! 
 with a black woollen comforter wrapped lound his head, 
 and a racking pain in his swollen, stiffened jaws. 
 
 "Jock, I am going out," began Mrs. Jock, approaching 
 him. ** I must see about getting that poor helpless 
 woman's pigs sold, and I mean to go round and ask all t)ie 
 neighbors to take one." 
 
 "Well, my dear," answered Jock meekly, lifting his 
 brown and usually humorous eyes to his wife's good-look- 
 ing face. His expression at this moment, however, was 
 anything but humorous ; there was endurance in it, and 
 nothing more. 
 
 ;nt,<'. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 n 
 
 e was think- 
 of the liglit 
 u parting!" 
 d gloomily ; 
 he gray old 
 is uncle had 
 
 rom behind 
 3se face was 
 boat cross 
 i and waited 
 >llovved him 
 
 (tinned Mrs. Jock, "that thei 
 
 Id 
 
 3t neighbor 
 re she lived 
 It Airdlinn, 
 >ch as Dun- 
 sen them. 
 
 had dined 
 3r of Aird- 
 dressed for 
 bright blue 
 I'as dressed 
 led a stout 
 ind. 
 
 was com- 
 ippy man ! 
 :l his head, 
 
 • 
 
 proaching 
 r lielpless 
 ask all the 
 
 lifting his 
 
 ^ood-look- 
 
 vever, was 
 
 in it, and 
 
 "And I think," contuuiea ivirs. jocK, "tnat tnere wou 
 be no possible ham in my calling on that young Bid- 
 dulph ? The yoimg people met him last night at Nora 
 Stewart's, and Minnie tells me he is a fine-looking man. 
 I think I shall call. What do you say, Jock ? " 
 
 Jock, who was past jealousy, and all other feelii gs of 
 h'lmanity but his toothache, assented with a groan. 
 
 " Then I shall cross the loch and go on to Nora 
 Stewart's, and from Rossmore to your brother Alick's." 
 
 "That will do no good," groaned Jock. 
 
 "Well, I shall try." 
 
 " You may try ; " and for the first time a grim smile stole 
 round Mr. Fraser's lips, which, however, was instantly sup- 
 pressed by a sliarp pang of agony. 
 
 " Poor old man ! " said Mrs. Fraser, commiseratingly, and 
 affectionately patting her husband's broad shoulders. "I 
 am afraid the pain is very bad." 
 
 Jock found no words to reply ; and Mrs. Fraser, having 
 seen after his comforts (though, indeed, he found none), 
 and after doing everything she could for him — for she was 
 a good wife — strode away on her errand of mercy, and the 
 unhappy Jock was left by his fireside. 
 
 And now let us follow Mrs. Jock, trudging along with 
 steady, equal steps through a drizzling mist on her way 
 to her new neig' bor's at Dunbaan. The path was rough, 
 and the air so ihick with moisture that on each blade 
 and leaf hung a trembling drop of dew, and before, around 
 lier, and behind her, all was shadow-land. The mist 
 wrapped everything as in a garment, but Mrs. Jock, noth- 
 ing dismayed, walked on by the loch-side, and guided 
 herself with unerring footsteps, until she arrived at the 
 gray mansion (which she could not now distinctly see), 
 where old Colonel Biddulph had dwelt so long. 
 
 She found her way up the avenue, through the dripping 
 trees, and rang at the house-door bell, and asked if Mr. 
 Biddulph were at home. 
 
 The gray-haired old man-servant, who had lived with the 
 colonel, answered that he was. 
 
 " Can I see him ?" said Mrs. Jock, producing her card- 
 case. 
 
 " Perhaps, madam, you would walk this way," said the 
 old servant ; " I will tell Mr. Biddulph you have called." 
 
 He ushered Mrs. Fraser into the unused drawing-room 
 of the houcsc. Here was a room where a lady's footstep 
 had never fallen before ! A stiff, uncomfortable room, 
 
14 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 f 
 
 without grace or pleasantness ; a room without a fire, or a 
 flower, or a little table. Had the grim old man, who had 
 furnished it to his taste, no memories left of the time 
 when he must have played by his mother's knee ? Or of 
 
 I' 1 
 
 the days when, perhaps, he had sighed in vam at some 
 fairer shrine ? Seemingly none. Not the ghost of a 
 woman's touch was here — not the shadow of a *' vanished 
 hand." 
 
 As Mrs. Fraser looked round somewhat disconsolately, 
 the door opened, and a tall, good-looking man entered the 
 room. 
 
 " I am so sorry, Mrs. Fraser," he said courteously, 
 " that Donald has shown vou into this miserable room. 
 Will you come into my den, where at least I have a good 
 fire ? " 
 
 "Have I the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Biddulph?" 
 asked Mrs. Jock, favorably regarding her new neighbor. 
 
 "I am Mr. Biddulph," he answered, with a pleasant 
 smile, leading the way as he spoke to the library, where 
 he had been sitting. 
 
 This was a very comfortable room ; the walls lined 
 with books of every description, from grave to gay ; the 
 curtains thick, heavy, and red ; the furniture massive, 
 and a Turkey carpet on the floor. 
 
 " I am afraid the smell of smoke will annoy .you," 
 said Mr. Biddulph, as he placed a chair for his visitor. 
 
 **Not in the least," answered Mrs. Jock; *'a woman 
 who has a husband and son is used to the smell of smoke ; 
 and speaking of my husband, Mr. Biddulph, reminds me 
 to apologize to you that he has not called on you yet, but 
 he is sufferino terriblv from toothache." 
 
 ** I am extremely sorry." 
 
 *' Well, the truth is, he should have two out ; but you 
 know what men are !" 
 
 Mrs. Jock said the last few words without the least 
 semblance of coquetry, and Mr. Biddulph quickly per- 
 ceived this. 
 
 " You mean," he said, smiling, " that we are an ob 
 stinate, bad-to-manage race ; and I believe you are right. 
 
 Mrs. Jock smiled also, but srill without coquetry. 
 
 " I have come to beg," she said, somewhat abruptly. 
 
 Mr. Biddulph's face did not lengthen. 
 
 " The truth is," she went on, '* that a poor man about our 
 
 place fell from the hayloft last week, and broke his neck, 
 
 'and he has left a widow and four small children behind 
 
 i> 
 
 ":§: 
 
 t 
 
 \. ' 
 
/t STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 '5 
 
 rails lined 
 3 gay ; the 
 massive, 
 
 loy .you," 
 visitor. 
 a woman 
 of smoke ; 
 minds me 
 u yet, but 
 
 but 
 
 you 
 
 the least 
 ckly per- 
 
 e an ob- 
 re right." 
 rv. 
 iptly. 
 
 ibout our 
 his neck, 
 n behind 
 
 him, and nothing of any value except five little pigs, and 
 I'm going to try to sell them among the neighbors, so as 
 to raise a small sum for the widow." 
 
 ** It's very kind of you, Mrs. Fraser." 
 
 " I want a pound a-piece for them ; will you take one ?** 
 
 " I shall be charmed to become the possessor of a little 
 pig," answered Mr. Biddulph, smiling again : " but please 
 allow the value of my pig to be two pounds." 
 
 " You are very good, but I won't refuse. This will help 
 me on a good bit," added Mrs. Jock, as she placed Mr. Bid- 
 dulph's two sovereigns in her substantial leather bag. ** I 
 am going next to Nora Stewart's ; you dined there last 
 night, didn't you ? My young people told me they had 
 met you." 
 
 "Yes, I noticed your daughter and son." 
 
 " Nora Stewart is a fine girl, is she not ? Her mother 
 and my husband were half-cousins, so I look upon her as 
 a child of my own. Do you think her handsome ?" 
 
 " I think there can be only one opinion about Miss Stew- 
 art's looks." 
 
 *' Yes, her mother was handsome, too. She has got an 
 awful old woman staying with her, and two English girls, 
 and I shall be obliged to ask them to dinner soon. Will 
 you come to meet them, Mr. Biddulph ?" 
 
 " I shall be delighted." 
 
 " No time like the present, then ; let us fix a day. Can 
 you come next Tuesday, at half-past seven sharp ? " 
 
 " It is very kind of you to ask me, and I shall be very 
 pleased." 
 
 "That is settled, then ; and now I think I must go." 
 
 " But how are you going to cross the loch ? " 
 
 " There will be a boat at the little pier below your house, 
 I expect." ' 
 
 " Take my boat, and allow me to escort you to the pier." 
 And Mrs. Jock did not refuse this offer, and, as Mr. Bid- 
 dulph walked by her side, she returned to the subject of 
 her pigs. 
 
 "I will send one of the men over with yours this even- 
 ing," she said ; " and I shall see you have the best one." 
 
 Biddulph laughed. 
 
 ** Oh, don't mind the pig," he said ; " let the four small 
 children eat it," 
 
 "That is nonsense," answered Mrs. Jock, gravely ; "you 
 have paid for it, and you shall have it — and the best, too." 
 
 Again Biddulph laughed. This lady, so straightforward, 
 
iili 
 
 t6 
 
 A Sr RANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 SO robust, greatly amused him, and he looked with a cer- 
 tain amount of admiration at h^^ fresh face and clear blue 
 eyes, and at the fair hair touched with gray, on which the 
 mist had left tinyvdrops of moisture without destroying the 
 strong natural ripple. 
 
 He offered to escort her across the loch, but Mrs. Jock 
 declined ; but just as the boat was about to put off, he 
 placed something in her hand. 
 
 "That was a very sad story, you know," he said, "about 
 the poor fellow breaking his neck. Will you give this to 
 the widow, without saying who sent it? " And when Mrs. 
 Jock looked at her hand, she found it contained a five- 
 pound note. 
 
 " This is too much," she said. 
 
 *^ Indeed, no. Good-by. I shall see you on Tuesday ; 
 good-by again until then." 
 
 He assisted her into the boat, and helped to push it off, 
 and then took off his cap and stood bareheaded for a mo- 
 ment, and Mrs. Jock, with a sigh, admitted to herself that 
 she had never seen a handsomer man. 
 
 " My poor boy won't have much chance, I am afraid, if 
 he goes in for Nora Stewart," thought the fond mother, 
 *' though Malcolm is a handsome lad." 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Biddulph had turned away from the little 
 pier, and walked slowly home through the mist, thinking 
 of Nora Stewart as he went. 
 
 As he passed up the avenue something white caught his 
 eye on the trunk of one of the trees, and Mr. Biddulph 
 frowned when he saw it was some name or words freshly 
 cut in the bark. He thought some of the servants or some 
 passer-by had done this, and he went out of his way a few 
 steps more closely to examine the injury done to his tree. 
 
 When he was quite near to it, he stood as if transfixed, 
 and his face grew deadly pale. There, staring at him on 
 the freshly cut bark, was a: name he hated to think of, still 
 more to see — a name that no one knew here ; that he had 
 tried to forget, and tried in vain. 
 
 "Natalie, 
 commonly 
 Natt." 
 
 -..'ii 
 
 These words stood out distinct and clear. Mr. Biddulph 
 rubbed his eyes ; then felt the letters with his trembling 
 hands. But there was no mistake. Some one must have 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 «7 
 
 done this, he told himself with parched, pale lips — some 
 one who knew the secret of his life. 
 
 put off, he 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ALICK FRASER. 
 
 Mrs. Jock Fraser, having crossed the misty loch in safety, 
 arrived at Rossmore, and was warmly welcomed by Leo- 
 nora, who liked this stalwart, sterling dame. 
 
 " And .vhere do you think I have been, my dear ? " asked 
 Mrs. Jock, after she had kissed Leonora on both cheeks, 
 shaken hands in a somewhat cool fashion witli Mrs. Con- 
 way-Hope, and nodded to the two young girls, whom she 
 had interrupted practising a duct at the piano. ^ 
 
 " Indeed, I can never tell where you have been," smiled 
 Leonora. 
 
 " I have been calling on your neighbor, Mr. Biddulph ;" 
 and Mrs. Jock was quite quick enough to note the deep 
 blush that spread over Leonora's face at the unexpected 
 mention of Mr. Biddulph's name. 
 
 "And did you see him ?" she asked, a little nervously. 
 
 " I saw him, and I goc him to buy a pig, and I have in- 
 vited him to dinner next Tuesday." 
 
 "A whole host of business, then." 
 
 " And, moreover, I like him," continued Mrs. Jock ; " he 
 is good-looking and gentlemanly. I wonder if any one 
 knows anything about him before he came here ?" 
 
 "I think," said Mrs. Conway-Hope, who hated to be left 
 long out of a conversation, and had not forgiven Mr. Bid- 
 dulph, nor Nora either, for preferring the moonlight to her 
 society, " that Mr. Biddulph looks like a man who has a 
 past." 
 
 "We all have a past, Mrs. Conway-Hope," replied Mrs. 
 Jock, " only a good deal depends on how we have spent it." 
 
 "Yes, indeed ! " And Mrs. Conway-Hope looked down 
 and sighed, thinking with satisfaction of the exemplary 
 nature of her own life. 
 
 " However, there he is, as we find him," continued Mrs. 
 Jock, in her downright way, "a pleasant, good-looking 
 man — an addition to the neighborhood ; and I want all you 
 good people to come and meet him at dinner next Tuesday. 
 What do you say, Nora, my dear ? " 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 i % 
 
 t \ 
 
 .■» ■! 
 
 - 4 
 
 " I shall be very pleased, for one," answered Nora. 
 
 "And you, Mrs. Convvay-Hope ?" 
 
 ** I have just one question to ask," answered that lady, 
 with a curious little snorting sound, which she deemed a 
 laugh : "how are we to get there ?" 
 
 " By boat, to be sure !" said Nora. 
 
 " It will be dark. Nora, my dear, I am sure Mrs. Fraser 
 will not think it rude of me to advise you, but I do advise 
 you Jiot to go." 
 
 " I am sorry I can't take your advice," answered Nora, 
 with a smile. " I mean to go." 
 
 "Then you will leave one of your guests at home," said 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope, sinking back in her chair ; " but it is 
 no matter." 
 
 "If you young people come, it will be all right," said 
 Mrs. Jock unfeelingly. "And now, Nora, my dear, will 
 you buy one of my pigs ? " 
 
 Then Mrs. Jock repeated the sad story she had told Mr. 
 Biddulph, and Leonora listened with quick sympathy. 
 
 "Oh, how dreadful, Mrs. Fraser!" she said. "Of 
 course I will buy one of them ; but what else can I do for 
 the poor woman ? " 
 
 " We must think of that afterward, my dear ; at pre- 
 sent I want just a nice little sum to help the poor crea- 
 ture in the first brunt of her trouble. I am going to 
 Alick Fraser's after I leave you, though Jock does not 
 believe I shall screw a sixpence out of him ; but I mean 
 to try." 
 
 Leonora laughed. " You must have lunch first, at any 
 rate," she said ; and Mrs. Jock was nothing loth, for the 
 mountain air had whetted her appetite. 
 
 But she was soon ready to start again on her travels, 
 and, after an affectionate parting with Leonora, and a 
 friendly one with her young half-cousin's three guests, 
 Mrs. Jock left Rossmore, having, however, wounded Mrs. 
 Conway-Hope's susceptible vanity by not a,sking her again 
 to dine at Airdinn on the following Tuesday, though Mrs. 
 Conway-Hope had already declined to do so. 
 
 " She is very nice, isn't she ? " said Leonora, as she re- 
 entered the room, after seeing Mrs. Jock safely away from 
 the hail door. 
 
 "Yes, she is nice," answered Mrs. Conway-Hope, her 
 tone contradicting her words ; " but don't you think she is 
 rather loud, my dear ? " 
 
 " Loud ? Not in the least ; she is a good, warm-hearted, 
 
 ■'^t 
 
 M 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 '9 
 
 motherly woman. How can she be called loud ? " replied 
 Leonora indignantly. 
 
 " She struck me as being so, but I may be mistaken." 
 
 " I really think you are mistaken," said Leonora ; and 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope gave a little pensive movement of licr 
 head. She was thinking what a pity it was that dear 
 Nora's temper was so quick. 
 
 A moment later Leonora left the room, and went up- 
 stairs to her own bedroom, and stood looking out over the 
 misty loch. She was thinking of what Mrs. Jock Fiaser 
 had told her of Mr. Biddulph ; for Mrs. Jock had half-whis- 
 pered to her, as they left tlie dining-room together, of Mr. 
 Biddulph's generous gift to the poor bereaved woman at 
 Airdlinn. And she vis thinking, too, of that conversation 
 relating to his past life, wondering about the mysterious 
 warning that yesternight had reached her hand. 
 
 What could it mean ? Again Leonora read and re-read 
 the strange message that had come to disturb the dawning 
 days of a new sweet hope. And suddenly a blush, a tide 
 of color, dyed the fair and clear skin of Leonora's face. 
 She had tiiought last night, wiien they had stood together 
 in the moonlight, of telling Mr. Biddulph of this secret 
 enemy tliat had been so swift to stab his reputation in the 
 dark. But now, looking again at these mysterious words, 
 she remembered that she could never do this, for they im- 
 plied what did not really exist, except in the deep hidden 
 feelings of her own heart. 
 
 Therefore she was tongue-tied ; she must meet Mr. Bid- 
 dulph as though this thing had not been ; she had best try 
 to forget it. But Leonora knew this was all but impossi- 
 ble. Still she must try, and having decided to do this, she 
 presently rejoined her guests, though her mind wandered 
 away again and again to the new owner of Dunbaan, who 
 was at this moment in a terrible state of mind, in which 
 perplexity, rage, and bitter anger at his own conduct by 
 turns held sway. 
 
 For James Biddulph knew well as he read those freshly 
 carved letters on the tree, that the mad folly of his youth 
 must be known to the hand that cut the bark. And lie 
 had hoped to escape the consequences of this folly ; to hide 
 himself away in tliis lonely Highland home, where every- 
 tliing was new to him. But here was that hateful name, 
 the old familiar, long-hated name — ** Natalie, co7nmonly 
 Natt'' — again before him, with its grim significance, its 
 shameful memories and disgrace ! 
 
).; 
 
 I 
 
 I III 
 
 I' 
 
 M 
 
 90 A STh'ANCE MESSAGE. 
 
 And as he looked at it, a sudden passion, an uncontrol- 
 lable fury, as it were, seized on this ordinarily cahii, col- 
 lected n)an. Snatching his penknife from iiis coat pocket, 
 he began hastily, with muttered curses on his writhing 
 lips, to destroy the letters, to render tlie name illegible ; 
 and long after he had done this he hacke(f and cut at the 
 tree, as though physical labor were some relief to his per- 
 turb jd and angry heart. . 
 
 In the meanwhile Mrs. Jock was arriving at the house 
 of her brother-in-law, Mr. Alick Fraser, who was the rich 
 man of the family, and as such was naturally regarded 
 with consideration. 
 
 When old Mr. Fraser of Airdlinn died, he left two sons, 
 Jock and Alexander ; Jock, the elder son, iniieriting the 
 family estate, and Alexander a modest portion of two 
 thousand pounds. But during the thirty-three years which 
 had elapsed since their father's death, a great change had 
 taken place in the fortunes of the two brothers. Jock, the 
 laird, had shot on the hills and fished in the streams ; had 
 married, and his children had grown up around him, but 
 he had got poorer every year. But Alexander, the younger 
 son, had carried his two thousand pounds to Glasgow, had 
 become a shipbuilder there, and gradually had amassed a 
 large fortune, and now, finally, had become a laird, too ; 
 at least, he had bought an estate on the opposite side of 
 the loch to Airdlinn, and had .built himself a bran-new 
 house there, double and more the size of the gray old roof 
 under which he had been born. 
 
 He was walking up and down on the terrace of his new 
 house, smoking and mentally calculating the profits of his 
 last investment, when his sister-in-law, Mrs. Jock, appeared 
 through the mist. 
 
 " Ah, Jeanie, is that you ?" said Alick Fraser, in a loud 
 cheery voice, going forward to meet her. "And how is 
 Jock ? And where have you sprung from this misty morn- 
 
 inir 
 
 ■>»» 
 
 " I've been wandering over hill and dale, on business 
 bent," answered Mrs. Jock, with her ready laugh. 
 
 " And what's up ? What have you been about ?" 
 
 "Let me go into the house, and I will tell you ;" and 
 Alick Fraser led the way into his well-furnished house, 
 where everything was new and everything was good. 
 
 And the master of the house was good to look on also. 
 A tall, stalwart, clear-skinned man of some fifty-three 
 
A STRANG B. MESSAGE, 
 
 •I 
 
 n uncontrol- 
 \y calm, col- 
 coat pocket, 
 lis writhing 
 le illegible ; 
 d cut at the 
 '• to his per- 
 
 : the house 
 as the rich 
 y legarded 
 
 ft two sons, 
 eriting the 
 ion of two 
 ears which 
 hange had 
 Jock, the 
 eanis ; had 
 d him, but 
 c younger 
 isgow, had 
 amassed a 
 laird, too ; 
 te side of 
 bran-new 
 y old roof 
 
 f his new 
 'fits of his 
 appeared 
 
 in a loud 
 id Iiowis 
 ty morn- 
 
 bu 
 
 > >» 
 
 smess 
 
 1 
 
 " and 
 \ house, 
 :)d. 
 
 on also, 
 ty-three 
 
 
 years was Alick Fraser, with a shrewd, well-featured face, 
 and hiim(jrous dark eves, like his brother Jock's. But 
 there was this difference in the expression of their eyes : 
 in Jock's the liumor was kindly, in Alick's it was hard. 
 All the sanie, Alick was the best-looking of the two, and 
 had also a cheery maimer, a long head, and a close hand. 
 
 "I've just come from Nora Stewart's," said Mrs. Jock, 
 as she seated herself in one of Alick's comfortable arm- 
 chairs. 
 
 '• Ah, fine girl that — very fine girl ! " 
 
 •* And as good as she's bonny, I believe. She, and two 
 young girls that are staying with her, and our new neigh- 
 bor, young Biddulph, are going to dine with us next Tues- 
 day, Alick," continued Mrs. Jock, diplomatically. "Will 
 you come too ? " 
 
 " Next Tuesday ? Don't know anythi-^^ to prevent me. 
 So you've made young Biddulph's acquaintance, then ? " 
 
 "Yes; I called on him this morning — called on him 
 about a little busine^'s. Malcolm and Minnie met him last 
 night at Nora Stewart's, and he's a gentlemanly man — yes, 
 ccrtainlv a gentlemanly man." 
 
 "That's all right, then." 
 
 *• I went to see him because we've had a sad business at 
 Airdlinn, Alick," said Mrs. Jock, cautiously approaching 
 the real object of her visit. " Jock would have been to 
 see y(ju about it before, but he's laid up with a frightful 
 toothache." 
 
 "Should have 'em out." 
 
 ''That's what I tell him, but I can't persuade him to ^o 
 through tiic wrench. But to go back to what I was say- 
 ing. Poor Nichols — you remember the red-haired stable- 
 man? — fell from the hay-loft last Wednesday morning and 
 broke his neck. He was killed on the spot, poor fellow, 
 and he's left a widow and four small children, and nothing 
 worth speaking of besides except a litter of five little 
 pigs." 
 
 There was no pity in Alick's eyes. 
 
 "They must eat the pigs," he said, with his hard smile. 
 
 " That would not feed them long. No, Alick ; I am try- 
 ing to sell these pigs to the neighbors round. I have sold 
 one to young Biddulph, one to Nora Stewart, and now I 
 have come to you." 
 
 " It's a pity you gave yourself the trouble, Jeanie ; I've 
 a splendid litter of pigs — black pigs." 
 
 " Yes ; but then this is for charity, Alick. I want a 
 
«a 
 
 A STKANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 I it 
 
 1*1 
 
 pound a-piece for them, to make up a little sum for the 
 poor widow. Young Biddulph gave mc two pounds for 
 his." 
 
 " A fool and his money arc soon parted, my dear." 
 
 *' Ah, but, Alick, do buy one," pleaded Mrs. Jock, quite 
 earnestly. She wanted the money for one thing, and she 
 wanted the triumph for another ; for Jock had told lier 
 she would fail. But Alick only laughed, and shook his 
 head. 
 
 '•It's no good, Jcanie," he said; ** I never throw away 
 money, and I won't to please you or anyone else. And 
 this is throwing it aw.ay. Suppose you collect a few 
 pounds, it won't keep the woman and her cliildren. They 
 must go to the place the law provides for them, and which 
 we ;dl help to support ; and the sooner they go the better 
 for thetu and you." 
 
 Mis. Jock did not speak. She was a kind-hearted 
 wt)man, and she felt her anger rise hot within her ; but 
 she was prudent withal. Alick Phaser had much in his 
 power. He was unmarried, and she had children, and for 
 their sakcs she suppressed her wrath. 
 
 *' Then you won't give anything?" she said. 
 
 " Not a sixpence, my dear," answered Alick, cheerfully. 
 
 " At all events, you'll come to dine on Tuesday ?" 
 
 " Yes, if you'll promise not to name your interesting 
 litter of pigs," said Alick, with a laugh. "There's a good 
 woman, don't le: us hear anything more of them." 
 
 "Very well," said Mrs. Jock ; and she rose with a smile, 
 and held out her hand to her brother-in-law. " I won't 
 come begging any more to you, Alick." 
 
 "Not if you are wise," he said, with some significance ; 
 and then they parted in friendly fashion, and Mrs. Jock 
 returned to her poor husband, who looked up from his 
 armchair and his woollen comforter with some interest as 
 she entered the room. 
 
 " Well," he said, " and did you get anything out of 
 Alick?" 
 
 Mrs. Jock shook her head. 
 
 " He was too much for me," she answered ; and she 
 could not resist a laugh at her own defeat. 
 
 " I told you so," answered Jock, subsiding back into his 
 comforter with some satisfaction. " My firm belief is, 
 when Alick departs from tliis life, he'll contrive somehow 
 to carry his money along with him, or he'll bury it. No 
 one will ever benefit a penny by it." 
 
A STRAAiJK MESSAGE, 
 
 K 
 
 ' cleai." 
 • Jock, quite 
 '"R. and she 
 ''•'Ul tcjld licr 
 d shook his 
 
 throw away 
 ' ^*lse. And 
 ilect a few 
 l»en. They 
 » and which 
 J the better 
 
 ind-heartcd 
 in licr ; but 
 iiuch in his 
 en, and for 
 
 'heerfully. 
 y ? " 
 
 nterestin^ 
 
 e'sagood 
 I." 
 
 b a smile, 
 " I won't 
 
 lificance ; 
 
 ^rs. Jock 
 
 from his 
 
 iterest as 
 
 : out of 
 
 and she 
 
 into his 
 clief is, 
 >mehow 
 it. No 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MRS. jock's dinner-party. 
 
 No one would have ever thought that the calm, rather 
 haughty-looking gentleman who entered Mrs. Fraser's 
 drawing-room on tiic evening of her dinner-party was the 
 same James Hiddulph who, witii pale lips and a counte- 
 nance distorted with rage and shame, iiad stood hacking at 
 the tree in his avenue, long after the name, which for him 
 possessed suf:h hateful recollections, had been utterly 
 erased from the bark. 
 
 Yet it was so. We change our moods like our gar- 
 ments, and one day put on our best, and another our worst. 
 And it had been a bitter day for James Biddulph, yon 
 dreaTy misty one, when he had been suddenly confronted 
 by a past he would fain have forgotten, and all the evil of 
 his nature had for the time held possession of his soul. 
 
 But his brovv was smooth now, and his smile as ready as 
 if no secret weighed upon his heart. He had a natural 
 grace of manner, and Jock Fraser, whose face by this time 
 had once more assumed its ordinary proportions, as he 
 advanced to meet his guest, was struck (as his wife had 
 been) by Mr. Biddulph's remarkable good' looks. 
 
 "Glad to see you," said the kindly Jock, warmly shak- 
 ing his hand. ** Your poor uncle was a great stranger 
 among us, but I hope you mean to be a good neighbor." 
 
 "You are all very kind to receive me as you do," an- 
 swered Biddu'ph, "and I hope to be a good neighbor;" 
 and he smiled. 
 
 " Y^ou know my wife," continued the master of the house, 
 in his pleasant way, as Mr. Biddulph was shaking hands 
 with Mrs. Jock and her daughter ; and this is my brother, 
 Alick Fraser, and my boy, Malcolm." 
 
 The uncle and nephew — the good-looking man of fifty 
 and the handsome young man of twenty-one — now both 
 exchanged greetings with the new owner of Dunbaan. 
 Alick Fraser fixed his keen observing eyes for a moment 
 on Biddulph's face. 
 
 "Glad to make your acquaintance," he said ; and then 
 he looked at Biddulph again. It struck him he had seen 
 him before, though at ihe moment he could not remember 
 where. 
 
H 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 " And do you mean to take up your abode among us ? '* 
 continued Alick, still eying the stranger. 
 
 " For some months in the year, at all events, I hope," 
 replied Biddulph. 
 
 ** Ah, not a true Scot," said Alick. " The mists will drive 
 you away ; " and he laughed aloud. 
 
 But as he did so there was a little stir at the door of the 
 room, and Nora Stewart and her two girl friends, the Lees, 
 appeared. Nora entered first, and the eyes of every man 
 present unconsciously followed her. For one thing, she 
 was handsome ; for another, she was a landowner, and a 
 little heiress in her way ; and this last consideration, no 
 doubt, materially added to her charms. 
 
 " How are you my dear ? " said Jock Fraser, kindly 
 shaking her hand. 
 
 " Well, young lady, and how are you getting on ? " asked 
 Alick. 
 
 " Nora, how late you are ? " said Malcolm Fraser, with 
 his blue eyes fixed on Nora's face. 
 
 Only Mr. Biddulph said nothing ; these two shook hands 
 in silence and during the dinner which followed were 
 placed far apart ; Jock Fraser taking in Nora, and Mr. 
 Biddulph Mrs. Jock ; and somehow Nora found it very 
 hard to keep her attention fixed on the laird's jokes and 
 pleasant homely talk. 
 
 " She is a fine girl, and the land joins," Alick Fraser sat 
 thinking, as he ate his dinner with appetite and satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 "She is beautiful," sigi ed poor Malcolm, who did not 
 feel as hungry as usual, and did not see why Miss Maud 
 Lee sliould always expect him to amuse her. 
 
 And he felt also a strange dislike growing within him to 
 the good-looking man at the head of the table, who was 
 talking so agreeably to his mother with his fluent tongue. 
 This young Highlanuer, with his stalwart length of limb 
 and breadth of muscle, liis strais^ht features and blue eves 
 and bright, crisp, curling chestnut hair, had been on pretty 
 good terms with himself until the last few weeks, when 
 Mr. Biddulph had arrived at Dunbaan to disturb his equa- 
 nimity. But now with that subtle knowledge which comes 
 to us unsought, which tells us grim truth against our van- 
 ity, our hopes, Malcolm Fraser knew" that this stranger 
 was preferred before him, and that Nora Stewart's dark 
 eyes now seldom met his own. 
 
 And the young man's natural sunny nature had grown 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 ^5 
 
 among ys ? " 
 '"ts, I hope," 
 ists wiJJ drive 
 
 ? door of tile 
 ds, the Lees, 
 I every man 
 
 '^ ^^^'"S-. she 
 7"er, and a 
 ^^^■ation, no 
 
 ^ser, kindJy 
 on? "asked 
 Eraser, with 
 
 ^ook hands 
 ^vved were 
 ^ and Mr. 
 
 nd it 
 
 Very 
 
 jokes and 
 
 f'raser sat 
 i satisfac- 
 
 3 did not 
 Jss Maud 
 
 'n him to 
 who was 
 • tongue, 
 of iimi? 
 ^"e eyes 
 " preUy 
 s, when 
 Js equa- 
 1 comes 
 "r van- 
 tranger 
 s dark 
 
 grown 
 
 '% 
 
 changed. He had become more siler:*:, sometimes sullen, 
 and only his fond mother's eyes guessed the cause. Shj 
 was looking at him now — her handsome boy — and Mrs. 
 Jock gave a little sigh, and Mr. Biddulph heard it, and, 
 glancing at her face, wondered what^^ross this seemingly 
 prosperous, happy woman could have on her path of 
 life. 
 
 "And you mean to live here?" she said, looking at 
 Biddulph curiously, in the interest of her son. 
 
 "How can I tell, Mrs. Fraser ? We are driven hither and 
 thither by opposing currents in the stream of life, and 
 know not where they will land us. Six months ago Dun- 
 baan was but a name to me, and my poor uncle never 
 entered my mind. Now, you see, I sit by his hearthstone, 
 and his friends have become mine." 
 
 "Poor man, he souglit few friends." 
 
 "Yet I believe for Mr. Stewart of Rossmore — Miss Stew- 
 art's uncle — he had a very strong regard." 
 
 "Rossmore saved his life, you know. Nora showed me 
 the magnificent necklace he left to her ; it was a strange 
 thought of the old man. I wonder where he got it ? Per- 
 haps there is some romance connected with it ?" and Mrs. 
 Fraser laughed. 
 
 " I believe in every man's life, who is worthy of tl 3 name, 
 tnere is some romance. I sometimes think, as I sit alone 
 at Dunbaan, of the grim old colonel, shut away there, as it 
 were, from communion with his kind. No doubt he had 
 his romance — some lost love — to keep company with his 
 memory in his lonely horrs." 
 
 "And^^// must fmd it loiiely, Mr. Biddulph ?" 
 
 " In a way ; but I am used to be alone, and I am writing 
 a book." 
 
 " Indeed ! This is interesting. May I ask what sort of 
 book ? " 
 
 "On men and manners," answered Biddulph, with a 
 laugh. " It serves to amuse me, if it will not amuse tlie 
 world." 
 
 " I expect you will put us all in. What do you say, now, 
 to my brother-in-law, Alick Fraser, for a good character ? " 
 
 Biddulph turned his gray eyes in the direction of Alick 
 Fraser, and looked for a moment or two steadily in his face. 
 
 " There are all the indications there," he said, thought- 
 fully, "of a successful man." 
 
 "Well, he is one, you know.'' 
 
 "No inconvenient softness of heart ; no opposing sen- 
 
26 
 
 ^ ^"^T/^ANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 I| 
 
 :JI 
 
 timents or «5Pncof 
 
 I-™ t" know I think Je." ^""^ren-" I should not Hke 
 ">e expression"???-" 1?" '"°"'d be offended T h >• 
 
 -^nd how do von i-j 
 
 ' lif'^'r^^^^^^^t i^^ked jocl/r" "'^^ »«l^hbor,NoraV. 
 Mr. BidduJph ? WW T ."''^' ^''^ ^^^ side. ' 
 
 much." ^ • ^^^i'lt I have seen of him I Ht. 
 
 « A , " ^ -'^^e very 
 
 ■L^ora Jaup-hed 
 S.odC,,3- '*" >■■■" <■*«. Mr. P„.e,. .j. ,.,^ 
 •K' •PPo.i'/.'^rJf *";"; .-..W Alick F,„,„ ,„„, 
 
 mere was a fi-eneml i^ T .^ ^^'^^ y<^u or I." 
 
 the lad es in th^ ^ "»^.^ vvas over, and the men L' • ^ 
 
 «"i' actuanAinlnt'irS^;''^" '^^ ^^^'i" ge' Ta^ 
 "So my, brother }tcV h.A ^^''^^^^ s mind. ^ ^^ 
 
 r . • •J'^^^s my senior and 
 
 nea,ort,;rt,.^Iif ''•-"^ -''^ '-. he would have been .uch 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 27 
 
 "It is Mr. Eraser's fun," smiled Nora. 
 
 " Rather bad fun for me, though," answered Alick, now 
 trying to liide his discomfiture. 
 
 '" 1 have never had a word with you the whole evening," 
 .the next moment said Mr. Biddulph's voice ; and Nora 
 kurned roup.d with a blusli and a smile, and forgot in an 
 'instant that such a person as Alick Eraser existed. 
 
 " I am going to ask a favor," continued Biddulph. 
 
 " Sliall I say politely it is granted before I know what 
 it is?" 
 
 " Please say it is granted." 
 
 " Very well ; it is granted." 
 
 " Then, it is that I shall be permitted to take you safely 
 across the loch in my boat. It is moonlight, and it is love- 
 ly, and I want something to soothe me, for I feel awfully 
 irritable to-night." 
 
 "Why don't you take to smoking?" said Nora with a 
 little laugh. 
 
 " Smoking is all very well when one can get nothing 
 better, but to-night I hope I can. I want you to take my 
 mind away from myself, Miss Stewart ; away from worries 
 and troubles, and all evil tilings." 
 
 "And have you many worries and troubles?" asked 
 Nora, softly, looking at him as she spoke. 
 
 '* My share ; perhaps my deserts." 
 
 " I suppose there is no life without them ?" 
 
 "None," said Biddulph, abruptly, ahiiost passionately; 
 "our evil deeds, and their black train, come back to us as 
 surely as we live." 
 
 " And our good deeds ? " 
 
 " I have none." 
 
 " Ah ! I do not believe that ; " and again Nora glanced 
 at Biddulph's handsome face, which at this moment looked 
 gloomy enough. 
 
 But they had no time for any further private conversa- 
 tion. Mrs. Eraser insisted upon their joining a round game 
 which the young people were getting up, and again Bid- 
 dulph found himself separated from Nora. It was not 
 until the party was breaking up, and hats and wraps were 
 being called for, that Biddulph rather pointedly joined 
 her as they quitted the house at Airdlinn, though on her 
 other side young Malcolm Eraser was walking with his 
 stalwart steps. 
 
 They were not five minutes' walk from the loch, and, as 
 »hoy -Miittcd the sombre shade of the trees in the avenue, 
 
38 
 
 /4 STA'A.XGE MEJ;SAGE. 
 
 .*'!! 
 
 a scene of wondrous beauty was spread out before them. 
 The moon was at the full, and the great mass of water, 
 the huge mountain range beyond, the steep overhanging 
 rocks on either side, were all alight with the white shining 
 beams, which showed them as plainly as the sun. 
 
 "Are you an artist, Miss Stewart ?" asked Biddulph, in 
 rather a low tone. 
 
 " No. Nature is too beautiful ; I cannot portray it." 
 
 "You mean," said Biddulph, smiling, "you have tried 
 and failed." 
 
 " That is about the truth," answered Nora, smiling also. 
 
 "No one can portray nature as it is," said Biddulph, 
 slowly ; "just as no author can give a perfect picture of a 
 human heart. We catch the stilient points ; this man's 
 strong characteristic ; the dip of yon mountain or yon 
 hill. But the million hidden things ; the changing shad- 
 ows of the earth and sky ; the teeming, changing thoughts 
 of each human ? >ul, were never written in ink or painted 
 on canvas." 
 
 '* You think that no mind, then, can perfectly under- 
 stand the other ?" 
 
 " I am sure of it. Are we not mysterious to our- 
 selves ? " 
 
 "Perhaps " 
 
 But now they had reached the pebbly marge, on which 
 the boatmen and tiie boats were waiting to convey them 
 across the moonlit water. 
 
 "I claim your promise," said Biddulph, taking Nora's 
 hand and leading her toward his boat. 
 
 And as Malcolm Fraser saw this action, a flush came to 
 his cheeks and a frown to his brow- 
 
 " Are you not going with us, Nora •* " he said. " Mr. 
 Biddulph does not cross the loch, you know." 
 
 "But Mr. Biddulph doeSy' answered Biddulph, with a 
 light laugh, as Nora paused a moment. "I mean to see 
 Miss Stewprt safely to Rossmore." 
 
 "Then," said Malcolm, almo.: rudely, "cur boat need 
 not go too ; there is plenty of room for the three ladies in 
 one." 
 
 Yet the moment after he had made this speech he re- 
 ponted it, for he had shortened the time he could be near 
 Nora by his own rashness. 
 
 "Very well," said Mr. Biddulph, quietly; "I shall take 
 charge of the three ladies. If you will help us to push off, 
 Mr. Fraser, that is all we shall require." 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 29 
 
 before them, 
 ass of water, 
 overhanging 
 vhite shining 
 sun. 
 
 Biddulph, in 
 
 ortray it." 
 Li have tried 
 
 smiling also, 
 d Biddulph, 
 picture of a 
 ; this man's 
 tain or yon 
 nging shad- 
 ng thoughts 
 k or painted 
 
 sctly under- 
 
 )us to our- 
 
 e, on which 
 onvey them 
 
 ing Nora's 
 
 ish came to 
 
 aid. " Mr. 
 
 ph, with a 
 »ean to see 
 
 boat need 
 e ladies in 
 
 cell he re- 
 Id be near 
 
 shall take 
 ) push off, 
 
 Poor Malcolm! He stood there in the moonlight, and 
 watc^hed them glide away with a burning, aching iieart. 
 He heard the dip of the oars, and the soft laughter of the 
 girls ; and then the snatch of a song came floating on the 
 night wind, but it had no sweetness nor music to the young 
 man's ears. He was angry, he was jealous, and the pleas- 
 
 Jant things of earth were all as gall and bitternessHo his 
 
 f soul. 
 
 si' 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AN UNWELCOME GUEST. 
 
 An hour later, still in the gleaming moonlight, Mr. 
 Biddulph landed at the little pier at Dunbaan. He had 
 seen Miss Stewart and her friends safely home, and then 
 had returned across the loch, and, having quitted his boat, 
 walked on alone toward the house. 
 
 As he entered the avenue he frowned when he saw the 
 disfigured tree where his own hand had so rudely cut and 
 hacked the bark. The moonlight showed this very plainly, 
 for it lit each fading leaf and bough, the shadows of the 
 trees falling with extraordinary distinctness on the mossy, 
 soddened sward. 
 
 He frowned, and his thoughts went from the sweet 
 woman he had just quitted, from gay words and mirth, to 
 a woman who was sweet no longer, and whose memory 
 was baneful to his heart. 
 
 He gave an impatient gesture and a sigh, and then a 
 sudden start. Good heavens ! was he mad ? On this tree, 
 on that tree, on seemingly half a dozen trees, the same 
 name that he had erased the other day was now freshly 
 carved ! 
 
 " Natalie, 
 
 commonly 
 
 Natt." 
 
 The letters seemed to swim before his eyes ; the weird 
 shadows to shift and change, as he stood there staring 
 blankly before him. But he did not draw out his pen- 
 knife this time. With a muttered curse he walked straight 
 and quickly on to the house, and rang the door-bell vio- 
 lently when he reached it. 
 
1 i 
 
 30 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 ii;: 
 'A 
 
 ill 
 
 The old serving-man, who had lived with his uncle^ 
 quickly opened it. 
 
 " Donald, who has been destroying the trees in the 
 avenue during my absence?" he asked, in a loud, angry 
 voice. 
 
 "Destroying the trees, sir?" repeated Donald, in utter 
 astonishment. "I never heard of such a thing." 
 i " Some one has," went on Biddulph, sternly — '' carving 
 some tomfoolery or other on half a dozen of them. Un- 
 loose the deerhounds ; I'll make an end of this." 
 
 The old man hesitated for a moment. 
 
 "Nero is very savage, sir," he said ; "hut still " 
 
 As he spoke, his master's angry eyes fell, and some 
 shame cnme into his face. 
 
 "I forgot they are savage," he muttered. " No, don't 
 loose the dogs ; I will see about it to-morrow," and he 
 turned away. 
 
 But hour after hour, when all the rest of the household 
 were asleep, Mr. Biddulph was walking up and down the 
 library, his heart full of anger, and bitter, bitter pain. 
 
 "I will make an end of tliis," at last he decided. "I 
 will see Nora again, and then I will go away ; I am best 
 away." 
 
 Two days later, about twelve o'clock, to the surprise of 
 the ladies at Rossmore, Mr. Biddulph was announced. 
 
 **I was wishing I could telegraph to you," said Nora, 
 rising to welcome him with her charming blush and 
 smile. 
 
 "We have been talking about you all the morning," 
 cried Maud Lee, with her shrill laugh. 
 
 " After such pretty speeches, you may be sure they have 
 a favor to ask you, Mr. Biddulph," said Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope. 
 
 "I only hope you have," answered Mr. Biddulph, look- 
 ing at Nora. 
 
 "We really have. We expect you will think us all 
 mad, though ; but we want to get up a picnic — a picnic in 
 October!" 
 
 " I do not think you mad, but I think you rash," said 
 Biddulph, still looking at Nora. 
 
 '*We know we are," she replied, brightly. **But the 
 truth is, Mr. Biddulph, that my two friends here, Maud 
 and Alice, declare they have not seen half enough of our 
 lovely loch, and they leave Scotland, to my great regret, 
 
 t| 
 
 01 
 
 al 
 
 'B 
 
 ^.- i 
 
/t STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 3' 
 
 with his uncle ^^^^^ ^"^ ^^ ^^"^ week ; so we want to sail up the loch, land 
 
 e trees in the 
 1 a loud, angry 
 
 )onald, in utter 
 ling." 
 
 rnly— "carving 
 of them. Un- 
 this." 
 
 still " 
 
 E^ell, and some 
 
 1. "No, don't 
 ri-ow," and he 
 
 the household 
 and down the 
 tter pain, 
 decided. " I 
 ay ; I am best 
 
 le surprise of 
 nounced. 
 ," said Nora, 
 blush and 
 
 le morning," 
 
 re they have 
 rs. Conway- 
 
 dulph, look- 
 
 hink us all 
 a picnic in 
 
 I rash," said 
 
 *'But the 
 lere, Maud 
 >ugh of our 
 reat regret, 
 
 on some lovely bit of scenery or other, have our lunch, 
 land then go home again. 
 
 "After taking inliuenza, sore throat, or even consump- 
 tion," suggc '^^ed Mrs. Conway-Hope. 
 
 ** Oh, Cousin Margaret, do not be so horrid ! " said 
 Kora. 
 
 "If you said 'sensible' instead of 'horrid,' my dear 
 Nora, it would be more to the point," suggested Mrs. 
 Conway-Hope. 
 
 "Then, please. Cousin Margaret, do not be so sensible." 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope severely resumed her knitting. 
 
 "And to return to the picnic," continued Nora, once 
 more addressing Mr. Biddulph, "we want your company 
 for one thing, and to borrow your two boats for another." 
 
 " My boats and everything I have are entirely jeU your 
 command ; but I called at this unreasonable hour to say 
 good-by." 
 
 " Good-by !" repeated Nora, blankly. 
 
 "Yes ; I intend to return to town." 
 
 " Not until after the picnic, Mr. Biddulph," said Maud 
 Lee. " Indeed we shall not hear of it. Nora, tell him 
 he must stay ; we can't lose one of our best men in this 
 frivolous way;" and again Miss Lee gave her curious 
 little laugh. 
 
 " I wish you would stay," said Nora, rather in a low 
 tone. 
 
 Biddulph hesitated. 
 
 " I should like to stay," he said, "but " 
 
 " We shall listen to no 'buts,'" said Maud Lee ; "it is 
 settled. Nora, dear, put Mr. Biddulph down on your 
 list." 
 
 "And his two boats," smiled Mrs. Conway-Hope, raising 
 her eyes from her knitting. 
 
 "Shall I.-*" asked Nora, almost shyly, looking at Bid- 
 dulph. 
 
 "Very well " he answered, smiling. 
 
 I want to ask all the neiglibors," said Nora; "the 
 Frasers, of course, poor Mr. Macdonald, and Lord Glen- 
 doyne, whose father, curiously enough, used to be a client 
 of my father's." 
 
 *'Glendoyne ? " said Biddulph. "Is that the man who 
 has the shooting-lodge at the head of the loch ?" 
 
 "Yes, it's the same man. I knew iiim slightly before, 
 and he called yesterday," answered Nora. 
 
3a 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 " I think the picnic has been thought of siikce his visit," 
 remarked Mrs. Conway-Hope, vigorously going on with 
 her knitting. 
 
 Nora looked annoyed. 
 
 "You are quite mistaken," she said, rather sharply. 
 "Maud and I were absolutely talking of it when Lord 
 Glendoyne arrived." 
 
 " And we asked him and he is coming," said Maud Lee, 
 triumphantly. "And now, when we have secured Mr. 
 Biddulph, we shall have some delightful men." 
 
 " You do not give them much chance of escape. Miss 
 Lee," suggested Mrs. Gonway-Hope. 
 
 "One of them, at all events, does not wish to escape, 
 Miss Lee," smiled Biddulph. " It is settled, then ; but you 
 have not told me the day." 
 
 " W« thought of the day after to-morrov " answered 
 Nora. 
 
 They discussed the details of the, picnic after this, and 
 presently Biddulph left Rossmore. 
 
 "I shall say good-by at the picnic," he thought, sadly 
 enough, as he parted with Nora. 
 
 He returned straight home, and as he entered the hall 
 at Dunbaan, old Donald met him, with a curious expression 
 on his wrinkled, time-seared face. 
 
 " There is a lady waiting to see you, sir," he said, myste- 
 riously. 
 
 "A lady ?" repeated Biddulph ; and he bit his lips, and 
 grew a little pale. "Where is she ?" 
 
 "She is in the library, sir; she said the drawing-room 
 was so cold." 
 
 Then Biddulph crosr,ed the hall and opened the library 
 door, and, as he did so, a little woman who was standing 
 before the fire turned sharply round. 
 
 " Well," she said, addressing him rather in a mocking 
 tone, "you did not expect to see me here ?" 
 
 "I certainly did not," answered Biddulph, sternly. 
 
 S 
 
 CI 
 
 i liiiii 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 A HARD BARGAIN, 
 
 The little woman standing by the fireplace laughed de- 
 fiantly at Biddulph's words. 
 
 " I thought I should surprise you," she said. 
 
since his visit," 
 ' going on with 
 
 rather sharply. 
 f it when Lord 
 
 said Maud Lee, 
 VG secured Mr! 
 len." 
 
 t escape, Miss 
 
 nsh to escape, 
 < tlien ; but you 
 
 3v " answered 
 
 after this, and 
 
 thought, sadly 
 
 tered the hall 
 )us expression 
 
 e said, myste- 
 
 t his lips, and 
 
 rawing- room 
 
 /f r,rRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 33 
 
 
 
 " Nothing you could do would surprise me," he an- 
 swered, coldly. " Eut may I ask what is your motive for 
 Coming here ? " 
 
 Again the woman laughed. 
 
 "I came to look at your new property," she said. 
 
 She was not young ; she was not handsome. She was 
 
 *ark, sallow, and rather stout, with bright, glittering, 
 miling dark eyes, when slie was in good temper. 
 ^pust now she was not in a good temper, and the expres- 
 ^l^ion of her eyes was not smiling, but scornful and dan- 
 ■^■gcrous. 
 
 "You have nothing to do with my new property," said 
 Biddulpii ; " you regularly receive your income. What do 
 .^you want more ?" 
 
 % " 1 want an increase of income for holding my tongue." 
 "Then you won't get it." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I shall ! It is but just. Your income has in- 
 wcreased, so should mine." 
 ^(i^ "Your income is perfectly adequate." 
 '• "You may think so, but I don't. A husband and wife 
 ,^ should be more on an equality, you know, my dear ;" and 
 'once more the woman laughed, while Biddulph stood gazing 
 at her with gloomy eyes. 
 
 " So it was you, then, I suppose," he said, bitterly, "who 
 injured my trees ?" 
 
 " If you call carving the old beloved name an injury," 
 she answered, scoffingly, " I did it." 
 
 " I might again ask your motive, but it is wasting my 
 breath." 
 
 " I shall tell you without asking, then. I wished to 
 remind you of my existence ; my little elfish playfiUness 
 was intended as a small moral tap on your back. When a 
 married man goes boating with a handsome young lady 
 by moonlight it is quite time he had some such re- 
 minder." 
 
 "Woman !" said Biddulph, passionately, his face flush- 
 ing strangely, "if you go on like this you w^ill tempt me to 
 strike you dead ! " 
 
 " Oh no, I won't ! If you were to strike me dead you 
 would be hanged, and you are too self-indulgent to like to 
 be hanged." 
 
 Biddulph muttered a curse between his teeth, and 
 turned away and went to the window of the room, and 
 stood looking out on the fair picture beyond without 
 seeing it. 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 A STRAh^GE MESSAGE, 
 
 "You have a nice place here, but a detestable climate," 
 presently said tlie lady at the fireplace. 
 
 Then Hiddulph turned round. 
 
 " Natalie " he began. 
 
 " N(jt the old familiar Natt, then ? " mocked the woman. 
 
 "Natalie or Natt, whichever you like, will you listen to 
 reason for a moment, and speak reasonably ? " 
 
 " I shall be delighted ; I am all attention." 
 
 '* Reproaches between us are useless ; allusions to a 
 miserable past are useless, too. What do you want to go 
 away from here for ever — to haunt me no more ? " 
 
 **VVhat do I want? Well, to tell you .the truth, a good 
 many things. I lost a pot of money last winter Pt Monte 
 Carlo, and I'm pretty fairly dipped in town ; and just as I 
 was thinking what on earth I was to do, I heard of your 
 windfall, and hastened to Scotland on the wings of love." 
 
 " I cannot pay your gambling debts." 
 
 " It's not my gambling debts — it's my tradesmen's bills 
 I want paid ; and I have a right as your wife to expect you 
 to pay them." 
 
 " Please do not allude to that right," said Biddulph, 
 coldly and repressively ; "you know well the miserable 
 circumstances under which you acquired it." 
 
 " Yes ; you found you had to deal with a clever woman 
 instead of a fool." 
 
 " We will not discuss it. How much money do you 
 wanf to go quietly away ? " 
 
 "Well, let me see. For one thing, I want my income 
 doubled. A paltry sum like four hundred a year won't 
 keep me ; I can't really make it do. And then, I want two 
 thousand pounds down." 
 
 "A modest request, truly ! I cannot afford it. Eight 
 hundred a year, and two thousand pounds ! I've not the 
 money to give you." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you have. I've been making inquiries, and I 
 hear tiie old colonel, who left you this place, left a pretty 
 tidy sum of money as well; therefore you can perfectly 
 afford it. Come, Jim, you'll iiave to pay, so you mny as 
 well do it with a good grace ; it's better than my going to 
 Miss Stewart at Rossmore." 
 
 Biddulph started as if she had struck him. 
 
 "Oh, you don't like that ! " cried the woman, tauntingly. 
 "You don't want this last love of yours to hear that 
 your love of long ago, that your wife is still in existence, 
 while you pass yourself off as an unmarried man. But she 
 
 .*S1 
 
 ^ t^ 
 wi 
 
 ul 
 
 hi 
 
 1( 
 
 1 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 3S 
 
 JtabJe climate " 
 
 ed th 
 
 e woman. 
 
 J you Jisten to 
 
 ^'iiisions to a 
 >u want to fi-Q 
 Dre ? " 
 
 truth, a orood 
 ^ter pt Monte 
 'ind just as I 
 eard of your 
 gs of love." 
 
 esmen's bills 
 
 expect you 
 
 ^ Biddulph, 
 'e miserable 
 
 ever woman 
 
 "ey do you 
 
 my income 
 year won't 
 
 1 want two 
 
 it. Eight 
 ve not the 
 
 nes, and r 
 ft a pretty 
 
 perfectly 
 ou mny as 
 V going to 
 
 luntinglv, 
 
 hear that 
 
 existence, 
 
 But she 
 
 shall hear, if you don't give me what I want ; I have given 
 her a slight warning as it is." 
 
 " VVliat do you mean ? " asked Biddulph, growing pale to 
 the very lips. 
 
 '* Just a hint — a little message to disturb her love- 
 dream. Don't looi< so white; pray don't faint! Miss 
 |Stevvart knows nothing j^/ about me." 
 
 '' I pray Heaven she never may ! " 
 
 Tlie woman shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "Hard words won't break me, my dear," she said, con- 
 temptuously. " I came for money, and if I get what I 
 .want I will go away." 
 
 Biddulph made no answer. He began slowly walking 
 up and down the room, with a bitter, angry heart ; and as 
 he did so, the woman's eyes followed him, and a softer 
 look stole over her face. 
 
 " Vou are very good-looking," she said after a while ; 
 " better-looking than the boy I married ten years ago." 
 
 Biddulph looked up with a grim smile. 
 
 " Your admiration might flatter me," he said, " except 
 for your errand." 
 
 ** I don't want to flatter you. It is impossible now that 
 we could ever be friends." 
 
 " Perfectly impossible." 
 
 " But you are a good-looking man. I have got older 
 looking, I suppose you think ?" 
 
 " You have the advantage of being many years my senior." 
 
 " Not so very many, after all ; but, as you say, we need 
 not discuss it." 
 
 "No, it is a delicate subject," said Biddulph, darkly. 
 " I was a boy, as you say, when an act of madness gave 
 you this power. But I am a man now — a man whose life 
 you have spoilt." 
 
 " You seem to have a pretty jolly life, I think." 
 
 " The air will be clearer when you are gone. Will you 
 take one thousand instead of two, and I will agree to 
 double your income ? " 
 
 " No ; I must have two." 
 
 " I cannot give you a sum like that at once, without ex- 
 citing remarks that I certainly wish to avoid. Let the 
 other thousand at least stand over until next year ?" 
 
 " I want it this year. But I tell you what I will do. If 
 you will give me a written acknowledgment that you will 
 pay the second thousand in three months, I will take it and 
 go away, and — hold my tongue." 
 
■Mil 
 
 36 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 m. 
 
 Again Biddiilph did not reply for a few minutes. Again 
 he began walking slowly up and down the room, with lii^ 
 eyes cast upon the Moor ; and the woman kept fugitiv* !v 
 watching him, while she atlected to be warming her fcit 
 at the fire. 
 
 " If I agree to this," said Biddulph at length, "will yoii 
 faitlifiilly promise never again to set ytjur foot in Scoi- 
 land — never by letter, or word, or deed, hint to any one oi 
 the unhappy tie between us ?" 
 
 The woman laughed aloud. 
 
 " You mean, never tell Miss Stewart of Rossmore." 
 
 " Don't you question what I mean. And don't bring the 
 name of this lady into any conversation between us. 1 re- 
 peat, to any one. That is sufficient." 
 
 "You are very high and mighty." 
 
 " Will you simply answer my question — yes, or no ? " 
 
 ** All right ; I promise, for the sake of double my pres- 
 ent income and two thousand down. You keep your bai- 
 gain, and I will keep mine." 
 
 "There is no fear that I shall not keep to my bargain. 
 And now, when will you leave this place ?" 
 
 "To-day, if you like. I want to be off to the sunny 
 South." 
 
 " To the gambling tables at Monte Carlo, I presume ? " 
 
 The woman shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " My dear," she said, " you do not permit me to be do- 
 mesticated ; what can I do ? " 
 
 "Anything you like," he answered, contemptuously; 
 and then he sat dow^n at the wiuing-table, and proceeded 
 to drawn a check for the money '.3 had promised. 
 
 After he had done this, he rose and went toward her. 
 
 "There," he said, "will that satisfy" you ? " And the 
 woman laughed, glanced at the amount, and put the check 
 into a small plush bag she carried in her hand. 
 
 *' For the present," she said. " And now I will be going. 
 Good-by." And she held out her hand. 
 
 But Biddulph did not take it. 
 
 " This is but a mockery," he said. 
 
 " What ! won't you shake hands ? Come, don't be so 
 surly." And again she held out her hand. 
 
 " It is no" matter." And Biddulph did now stretch out 
 h*s hand. But, as his cold frigid fingers touched hers, 
 the woman flung them scornfully back. 
 
 hank you for small mercies!" she cried 
 'ithout you or your hand-clasp ! " 
 
 r 
 
 ..a 
 '^\ 
 
 « 
 
 (< 
 
uites. Again I 
 |om, with hh 
 )t fiigitivrly 
 >ing her feet 
 
 fi, "will voi, 
 loot in Scot- 
 Ito a/iy one oi 
 
 A STKANCK MESSAGE. 
 
 37 
 
 Arc! the next moment she was gone, and Biclvhilp}i sank 
 iovvn oil a chair by the table, and covered his face with 
 his hands. 
 
 "I would rather be dead than this," he was thinking, 
 witli intense bitterness. "Would that cither she or I 
 .Acre dead ! " 
 
 ;more." 
 In't bring t!ic 
 |en us. I rc- 
 
 , or no ?" 
 ble my prcs- 
 ^'P your bal- 
 my bargain. 
 3 the sunny 
 presume?" 
 tne to be do- 
 
 'mptuously ; 
 
 i proceeded 
 
 sed. 
 
 vard her. 
 
 And the 
 It the check , 
 
 II be going. 
 
 loa't be so 
 
 stretch out 
 ched hers, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AN OCTOnER PICNIC. 
 
 I. "I Cf 
 
 can 
 
 The sun and the sky alike smiled upon Leonora Stewart 
 on the morning of her picnic, and the blue loch lay in 
 summer blueness, though the mighty mountain beyond, 
 whose shadow slept upon its breast, was crowned with 
 snow. 
 
 Leonora awoke in the early morning, when the pink 
 cloudlets of dawn still streaked t!ie eastern sky. She went 
 to the window, and looked out from her "wild eyrie," as 
 Biddulph had called Rossmore, upon a scene more beauti- 
 ful than the dreams of a true poet's heart. How dull our 
 pens are, how cold and flat our paint, to picture the grand 
 realities of the Maker's hand! Leonora stood there rapt, 
 almost awestruck, at the vastness, the sublimity, of these 
 everlasting hills, which seemed merging in the sky. 
 
 The girl had that intense, passionate love of nature which 
 is almost pain, for are not all deep feelings akin to it? 
 We grow sad, or at least thoughtful, at the wondrous sights 
 unfolded to us when we behold them for the first time or 
 after long absence. Who has not felt this on the shores of 
 the deep sea, or looking upward on a starlit night at yon 
 luminous vault above ? 
 
 And as Leonora stood gazing into the blue distance, or 
 on the dark storm-rent firs, which grew thick and strong 
 up the steep sides of the tall headland on which Rossmore 
 stands, there curiously and subtly stole in^.o her heart 
 another feeling, another thought, which also w^as deep and 
 strong, and which seemed to mingle, as in a dream, with 
 her love for the mountains and the braes of her mother's 
 land. 
 
 She began thinking of James Biddulph. She could 
 plainly see, across the loch, the trees and gray roof of the 
 house at Dunbaan, for every object stood out distinct in 
 
38 
 
 J STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 the clear air. And she would see him to-day. This was a 
 sweet thought, and made her sigh softly, and a pink wave 
 steal to lier white skin. 
 
 But there was a haunting shadow still. Nora could 
 never quite forget the strange words that had warned her 
 not to trust in the man to whom she was so strongly at- 
 tracted. Tills message might mean nothing, and might 
 mean so much. It had left a vague uneasiness in her mind, 
 and siie now began wondering if to-day would cast any 
 liglit on this unsolved enigma. 
 
 And across the water at Dunbaan, the master at this 
 moment was tossing restlessly, thinking of this same ques- 
 tion. Biddulph felt he had no right any longer to deceive 
 Leonora as to his true position. He was trying to find 
 courage to nip in the bud what was so sweet to him ; to 
 lay what might have been the best hopes of his manhood 
 low. 
 
 But how could he tell her this shameful, degrading 
 story? How say, "Wlien a boy, I was tricked and de- 
 ceived into a marriage witli a woman I blush to name ?" 
 Such words could not be spoken easily, and Biddulph at 
 last decided to leave them to cliance. 
 
 " I shall go away," he told himself, " and she will forget 
 me ; " and this idea did not make him feel happier. 
 
 And when, some hours later, he met her again, his task 
 seemed no lighter. Leonora, fair and gracious, dressed in 
 white serge and otter, with a little fur cap to match, beneath 
 whicli her bright liair curled round her smooth brow, was 
 standing at the hall door when Biddulph arrived at Ross- 
 more, smiling and talking to her guests. 
 
 Mrs. Jock Fraser was here, attired (sensible woman) in 
 warm, striped homespun, while her pretty daughter Minnie 
 wore a blue and white boating-dress, and her tall hand- 
 some Malcolm his Highland garb. A lick Fraser had also 
 arrived, and was joking with the young people after his 
 usual fashion, when Mr. Biddulph walked in among them, 
 and AHck's brown eyes followed him when he went up to 
 exchange greeting with their young hostess. 
 
 And other eyes besides Alick Fraser's did this also. Mal- 
 colm's blue eyes, and even the Rev. Andrew Macdonald's 
 neutral-tinted ones, looked with no benign expression on 
 the tall stranger. 
 
 " I have brought the boats," said Biddulph, smiling, as 
 he shook hands with Nora. 
 
 " It is so good of you," she answered. 
 
 al 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 39 
 
 She looked very bright. The day was beautiful, for one 
 tiling ; for anotlier, an undescribable feeling of pleasure 
 and excitement filled her heart. 
 
 "The weather is perfect, isn't it?" she said to Bid- 
 dulph. 
 
 " It looks good all round," he answered ; and his eyes 
 rested on her face as he spoke. 
 
 " Miss Nora Stewart has bribed the clerk of the weather- 
 office to give us one good day, I believe," said Alick Fraser, 
 with his hard smile. 
 
 " How have I bribed him, Mr. Fraser ? " said Nora, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 '• Perhaps you smiled at him," answered Alick ; " and, 
 unless he was a hard-hearted fellow, he could not resist 
 that." 
 
 " I did not know you ever said pretty things," said 
 Nora, gayly. 
 
 "When I find anyone pretty enough to say them to, 
 you see I do." 
 
 " There, my dear ! " cried Jock Fraser, who had been 
 an amused listener to his brother's compliments; "after 
 that you must make Alick come out of his shell a bit. 
 Come, Alick, what do you say to giving the young ladies 
 a dance in your bran new house ? " 
 
 But Alick only smiled. It was one thing to make pretty 
 speeches which cost nothing, and another to give dances 
 which might cost a good deal. 
 
 But just at this last moment the last guest that Nora 
 expected drove up in a dog-cart to the hall-door and a 
 tall, very slender young man, with a dark pale face — an 
 unmistakable Anglo-Indian — appeared. 
 
 This was Lord Glendoyne, the impoverished heir of a 
 long line, who had been out in India in the Civil Service 
 for many years. He was a graceful man, with a languid 
 manner and smile, and large, wcaried-looking, rather pa- 
 thetic dark eyes. 
 
 " I am afraid I have kept you wi-.iting," he said to Nora. 
 
 " I was just wondering whether you had forgotten all 
 about our picnic," she answered, brightly. 
 
 "Oh, no ! but — shall I confess ? — I am a frightfully lazy 
 man, and it was all I could do to get here so early." 
 
 " I am very pleased to see you. Allow me to introduce 
 }'t)u to some of your neighbors;" and Nora presented 
 Lord Glendoyne to Mrs. Jock Fraser and her husband, to 
 Mr. Biddulph and Alick Fraser, 
 
40 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 lii 
 
 " I have had some correspondence with you already, my 
 lord, I think ?" said Alick Fraser. 
 
 "Ah — are you tlie — aK -gentleman from Glasgow who | 
 bought Inismore ? " said Lord Glendoyne, fixing his lan- 
 guid dark eyes on the man who had purchased the old 
 ancestral acres of his house. 
 
 " 1 am," answered Alick with some pride. 
 
 "Ah — I knew it was some one from Glasgow," said 
 Glendoyne ; and he turned indifferently away ; and Alick 
 felt injured, for had not many of his hard-earned thou- 
 sands gone into this man's pocket ? 
 
 " I think we had better go down to the boats now," pro- 
 posed Nora ; and unconsciously she looked at Biddulph 
 as she said this, who at once came to her side. 
 
 "Allow me, then," he said, "to carry your shawl, and 
 see you safely down the hill." 
 
 " Deuced cool fellow, I must say that," muttered Alick 
 Fraser. 
 
 "A gentlemanly man," thought Glendoyne, now turning 
 his languid gaze on Biddulph's face. 
 
 But the next moment his eyes rested on Minnie Fraser, 
 whose extreme fairness and beauty of complexion at once 
 attracted his attention. 
 
 " Who is that fair girl ? " he asked of Nora. 
 
 "That is my half-cousin, Minnie Fraser. Shall I intro- 
 duce you to her ? " 
 
 " Thanks ; I shall be very pleased." 
 
 It must be admitted that this was rather cruel of Nora, 
 as her friend, Maud Lee, had intended to monopolize 
 Lord Glendoyne, and had also openly announced her in- 
 tention. But Lord Glendoyne had seen many Maud Lees 
 out in India, and this fair Highland flower was more to 
 his taste. 
 
 He attached himself, therefore, to Minnie's side, and the 
 young girl was naturally flattered by his attentions. And 
 Maud Lee knew the world too well to show any annoyance 
 at this ; and even when, later on in the day, Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope — who, after all, had declined to be left at home — 
 took the opportunity of whispering in Maud's ear that 
 Lord Glendoyne seemed evidently to admire Minnie 
 Fraser, Maud answered gayly : 
 
 "Yes ; isn't it sad when 1 hoped he would admire me !" 
 and she laughed, and Mrs. Conway-Hope felt disappointed 
 that the clever girl did not show any disappointment. 
 
 In the meanwhile Biddulph was walking by Leonora's 
 
 % 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 41 
 
 already, my 
 
 lasgovv who 
 'ing his ian- 
 lased the old 
 
 isgovv," said 
 ; and Alicia 
 arned thou- 
 
 s now," pro- 
 at Biddulph 
 
 shawl, and 
 
 ttered Alick 
 
 now turning 
 
 mie Fraser, 
 don at once 
 
 hall I intro- 
 
 el of Nora, 
 Tionopolize 
 ced her in- 
 Maud Lees 
 IS more to 
 
 ^e, and the 
 ons. And 
 annoyance 
 . Conway- 
 at home — 
 s ear that 
 e Minnie 
 
 [lire me ! " 
 
 appointed 
 nent. 
 
 Leoqora's 
 
 
 
 side, down the steep avenue which led to the house at 
 Rossmore, beneath the falling leaves. 
 
 " Mow fast they are coming aown ! " said Leonora, 
 glancing up at her trees. 
 
 " 1 fancy the touch of frost in the air last night has 
 sent them more quickly to their mossy graves," answered 
 Biddulph. 
 
 " Poor little leaves ! It's sad to die on a bright day like* 
 tliis." 
 
 " And would you rather die in gloom and darkness ? — 
 linger on and see your friends fall one by one — which 
 must be the fate of the last leaf on the tree, you know?" 
 
 Leonora laughed softly. 
 
 "I cannot make up my mind," she said. "Which would 
 you rather do ? " 
 
 " Do you mean live a long sad life alone, or a short one 
 full of joy and love.? " 
 
 " Yes ; " and Leonora's dark eyes fell, and Biddulph 
 saw a wave of color steal to her fair cheeks. 
 
 " My choice is quickly made," answered Biddulph — "a 
 brief life of love. But," he added, as if a sudden thought 
 had struck him, " we cannot choose ; the thread of our 
 destiny is mostly warped for us, before we realize the 
 bitter truth." 
 
 Nora did not speak, and the next minute Biddulph 
 changed the conversation. 
 
 "At a picnic we are permitted, and expected, are we 
 not," he said, turning to Nora with a smile, "each to bring 
 some small contribution to the feast ? " 
 
 "Oh! no; I never thought of such a thing!" she an- 
 swered, smiling also. 
 
 "Well, I have brought myself and my boats " 
 
 "Your boats were invited," said Nora, amused. 
 
 "And uninvited I presumed to bring some flowers which 
 I telegraphed for yesterday, and some fruit ; and also 
 some green and yellow Chartreuse, which Donald, my 
 uncle's old servitor, assured * the colonel used to set great 
 store on.' " 
 
 " It is extremely kind of you." 
 
 " It is very good of you not to be angry. But here we 
 are. There is quite a little flotilla of boats." 
 
 They had now nearly reached tlie side of the loch, and 
 beneath the small wooden pier which served as a landing- 
 place a little cluster of boats lay floating on the blue water, 
 and one of Biddulph's boats was gp Vv^ith flowers. 
 
, jTiilliiaiirfiMWIli iinimlliifliriiM 
 
 42 
 
 I m 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 He beckoned to the boatman to row in, and then took 
 out a basket containing a quantity of most beautiful flow- 
 ers, and presented it to Nora, wlio received it witli a vivid 
 bhish of pleasure. 
 
 " Oh, how lovely they are ! " she said. " How can I thank 
 you?" 
 
 " Shall I tell you how ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 " Come in my boat ; I want to enjoy myself to-day." 
 
 '' I will gladly go." 
 
 The other guests were all round th.em now, and the girls 
 eagerly admired the flowers, which the men regarded with 
 jealous, affected indifference, except the genial Jock Fraser 
 and Lord Glendoyne. 
 
 *' Mr. Biddulph's the man to invite to a picnic," said Jock, 
 in his hearty way. " Nora, you must give me one of your 
 posies, and 1*11 make all the young fellows jealous." 
 
 With a bright look, Nora picked out a rose and pinned 
 it to the laird's coat. 
 
 "There !" she said ; "you are smart ;" and then she of- 
 fered all the ladies present some of her flowers, who eager- 
 ly accepted them. 
 
 "Will you have one, Malcolm ?" she said, kindly, to her 
 young half-cousin. 
 
 " No, thank you," he answered. " I want none of Mr. 
 Biddulph's flowers." 
 
 " I shall be pleased to take the rejected gift. Miss Stew- 
 art," said Glendoyne, in his languid fashion. "I am not 
 too proud to accept Mr. Biddulph's flowers." 
 
 " I am very pleased to give it to you," said Nora, smil- 
 ing, and thinking what a stupid, jealous boy poor Malcolm 
 Fraser was. 
 
 But presently they were all afloat, and Mrs. Jock, Nora, 
 Minnie Fraser, and Lord Glendoyne fell to Biddulph's 
 share. 
 
 " I am glad," said Glendoyne to Minnie, " that the man 
 from Glasgow has not come in Mils boat." 
 
 "Why ?" asked Minnie, glancing with a shy smile at hei 
 mother's amused face. 
 
 "He looks heavy, for one thing," answered Glendoyne ; 
 *' for another, he reminds me of my poverty." 
 
 "We must look out for the prettiest spot where to land 
 and have lunch," said Nora, quickly, trying to change the 
 conversation. 
 
 *' There used to be a lovely little bit of scenery high up 
 
 K 
 
 ly- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 43 
 
 and then took 
 beautifuJ flow, 
 it with a viviu 
 
 nvcani thank 
 
 f to-day." 
 
 and the girls | 
 egarded with ^3 
 .1 Jociv Eraser .^ 
 
 ic," said Jock, | 
 
 2 one of jour 
 
 alous." 
 
 e and pinned 
 
 then she of- 
 s, who eager- 
 
 :indly, to her 
 
 none of Mr. 
 
 t, Miss Stew- 
 I am not 
 
 (< 
 
 Nora, smil- 
 5or Malcolm 
 
 Jock, Nora, 
 Biddulph's 
 
 lat the man 
 
 smile at hei 
 
 jrlendoyne ; 
 
 lere to land 
 cliange the 
 
 Ty high up 
 
 he loch on Inismore, and I suppose it is there still ; why 
 hould we not lunch there, Miss Stewart ?" asked Glen- 
 oyne. 
 " Perhaps," hesitated Nora, thinking of Alick FraFer, 
 you would not care to go now." 
 
 " On account of being reminded of my poverty," smiled 
 rlendoyne. " The presence of a man from Glasgow ren- 
 ers forgetfulness impossible." 
 
 "He is my brother-in-law," .said Mrs. Jock Fraser, quick- 
 y. thinking it was quite time Lord Glendoyne should know. 
 " He is my uncle," gasped poor Minnie, with a burning 
 lush. 
 
 Lord Glendoyne looked from one to the other, and ever 
 o faint a color stole beneath his dusky skin. 
 
 " I wish he was ny uncle," he said, sententiously ; and 
 very one laughed at this, for Mrs. Jock could always en- 
 oy a joke at the expense of her brother-in-law. 
 
 They had now reached the very centre of the loch, on 
 ither side of which huge overhanging rocks ascended high, 
 heir enormous shadows falling on the blue water, and re- 
 producing there each rift and fissure in the gray granite 
 masses, as well as the green patches of verdure which here 
 and there dotted the mountain sides. 
 
 " This is beautiful," said Biddulph in a low tone to 
 Nora ; and she answered more by her expression than 
 her words. 
 
 " When I was in India," said Glendoyne, " I sometimes 
 used to shut my eyes and try to fancy myself here, or, 
 rather, to see Inismore as a picture in my brain, and it used 
 to make me feel veiy strange." 
 
 " I am afraid it would make you feel sad ? " said Nora, 
 gently. 
 
 " I don't know. What is sadness ? " 
 " Can you define it, Mr. Biddulph ? " smiled Nora. 
 "It is regret, but not bitter regret, isn't it ? The sharp 
 Bting is gone. When we are sad we are resigned ; but there 
 re some tilings to which we never become resigned," 
 answered Biddulph ; and he cast his eyes down gloomily 
 as he spoke. 
 
 "I suppose, then, it made me sad," said Glendoyne, "to 
 tliink of Inismore, for I was resigned to part with it, because 
 I could not help myself." 
 
 ■ But you kept the shooting-lodge, did you not ? " asked 
 IBiddulph. 
 
 " Yes : I have still a hillside or two, and a few black- 
 
44 
 
 A STI?ANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 cocks. The man from- 
 the rest.'' 
 
 I mean Mr. Frascr purchased 
 
 V. I 
 
 "There is my brother-in law's house," said Mrs. Jock, 
 pointing out Alick Eraser's grand new mansion ; and Lord 
 Glendoyne looked at the house languidly for a moment and 
 then dropped his eyes. 
 
 " It looks too new, somehow, among the grand old hills," 
 said Biddulph, 
 
 ** It suits the new master, then," smiled Glendoyne. 
 
 But this injured Mrs. Jock's family pride, and her rosy 
 cheeks took a deeper hue. 
 
 ** Alick Fraser comes of a good old stock, though," she 
 said c^aickly. He has bought a new property, certainly ; 
 but he can sec from it Airdlinn, where his people have 
 lived for generations." 
 
 "That must be very gratifying," answered Glendoyne, 
 with an unmoved countenance ; and Mrs. Jock turned red- 
 der still, for she thought he was amusing himself at her 
 expense. 
 
 Nora, however, adroitly changed the conversation, and 
 the rest of their row up the loch was spent very pleasantly. 
 Then they landed near a picturesque spot, where a mossy 
 bank of turf was broken up by huge fragments of gray 
 granite, which Biddulph suggested would serve as seats 
 for the party. 
 
 Hampers were now produced, and there were jests and 
 mirth ; and Biddulph ordered the cushions from his boat 
 to be brought on shore, and, liaving piled them into a 
 comfortable seat, and placed a fur carriage-rug over them, 
 he turned to seek Nora Stewart, for whom he intended 
 this place of honor. 
 
 She was a fevv steps apart from him, and just as he 
 opened his lips to address her, to his intense disgust Mrs. 
 Conway-Hope espied his seat, and instantly deposited her 
 angular form upon it. 
 
 "What a delightful seat ! I shall secure it at once," she 
 said to Biddulph ; and he was too gentlemanly to ask her 
 to rise. All the same, he admitted to Nora, a few mo- 
 ments later, that he bitterly regretted Mrs. Conway-Hope 
 was a woman. 
 
 But Nora was quite content to sit on one of the granite 
 blocks, on which Biddulph had placed a plaid. He sat at 
 her feet, and looked sometimes up into her bright smiling 
 face with his gray sombre eyes. 
 
 " That fellow pays Nora Stewart great attention," said 
 
A STRAXGE MESSAGE, 
 
 ser purchased 
 
 d Mrs. Jock, 
 
 )n ; and Lord 
 
 moment and 
 
 nd old hills," 
 
 ndoyne. 
 and her rosy 
 
 though," she 
 y, certainly ; 
 people have 
 
 Glendoyne, 
 i turned red- 
 mself at her 
 
 3rsation, and 
 y pleasantly, 
 lere a mossy 
 3nts of gray 
 Tve as seats 
 
 tre jests and 
 Dm his boat 
 them into a 
 ^ over them, 
 he intended 
 
 just as he 
 lisgust Mrs. 
 jposited her 
 
 t once," she 
 
 T to ask her 
 
 a few mo- 
 
 nway-Hope 
 
 the granite 
 
 He sat at 
 
 ght smiling 
 
 ntion," said 
 
 45 
 
 i.'i* 
 
 I 
 
 -f^ 
 ■■"% 
 
 Alick Fraser to his sister-in-law, Mrs. Jock, over his veni- 
 son and aspic jelly. 
 
 " I think he admires her," answered Mrs. Jock. 
 
 Alick said nothing more. He ate his lunch and drank 
 his champagne, and tasted both the green and yellow 
 Chartreuse critically ; but all tlie while lie was thinking 
 of Nora Stewart, and the land that lay next his own with 
 such tempting advantage. 
 
 And by-and-by he saw Nora and Biddulph wander away 
 together up some of the steep, craggy, rising ground be- 
 hind where they had been sitting, and then the rest of -the 
 party also dispersed. The men began to smoke, except 
 Biddulph and Glendoyne, who went away in another 
 direction with pretty, blushing Minnie Fraser, and the 
 rest of the young people amused themselves as best they 
 could. 
 
 But now let us follow Biddulph and Nora in their steep 
 ascent up the craggy mountain-side. A wild and some- 
 what dangerous walk this, for there were rifts in the rock 
 through which the winter torrents poured down with 
 tremendous force, rendering the path in places certainly 
 unsafe. 
 
 But Biddulph, with his strong, firm hand, was nenr to 
 assist Nora, and she was not afraid. They stopped at 
 length to breathe and rest, and the scene below, above, 
 and around them was magnificently beautiful and wild. 
 
 But presently Biddulph pointed to the highest peak of 
 the mountain range. 
 
 "See," he said, "the mist is gathering round the mon- 
 arch's brow, and shortly will come stealing upon us. I 
 think we had better go down." 
 
 " Let us stay a little longer," she answered ; " I never 
 saw the world so beautiful before." 
 
 Almost as she spoke she quitted his side. Going a few 
 steps apart, and 'ever thinking of danger, she mjunted 
 on what she deemed to be a jutting, storm-beaten block 
 of solid rock. But in an instant, as her light weight rested 
 on it, this crng, which had probably rolled down the moun- 
 tain-side during some winter torrent, and been stayed on 
 its way by a slight impediment, now received a fresh im- 
 petus, and, before Nora could spring back from it, com- 
 menced again its downward course, carrying the poor girl 
 along with it. 
 
 It was well that Biddulph had a cool head and a firm 
 hand. He heard the rumble behind him, and Nora's 
 
46 
 
 A STRANG P. MESSAGE, 
 
 shriek, and in one moment had sprung forward, seizing 
 the skirt of her gown as she was hurled past him, and 
 dragging her back by main force. 
 
 She fell heavily. It was a hair-breadth escape, for Bid- 
 dulph had only caught the very edge of her white serge 
 gown, and when he lifted her up, she uttered a sharp and 
 sudden cry of pain. 
 
 "Are you hurt ?" he asked, anxiously. 
 
 " I — I cannot stand," gasped Nora, leaning back on Bid- 
 dulph, trembling, and very pale. 
 
 Then with great gentleness he placed her on a little 
 patch of sward near them. % 
 
 " It — it was so dreadful," said Nora, in a broken voice ; 
 
 " in — another moment " And she closed her eyes, and 
 
 shuddered. 
 
 "The other moment was not permitted to do any harm, 
 you see," answered Biddulph, kindly, and speaking reas- 
 suringly. He thought she was only frightened, and noth- 
 ing more. 
 
 "You — you saved my life." 
 
 " Then I thank God," said Biddulph, almost solemnly. 
 But," he added, a moment later, bending over her, "you 
 feel better now, don't you ? Will yo« take my arm, and 
 let us try to get down the hill ? I shall take care you make 
 no more false steps ; " and he smiled. 
 
 He tried to raise her again as he spoke, but no sooner 
 had he done so, than Nora sank down once more with 
 an exclamation of great agony. 
 
 ** I cannot bear it," she said ; " I am in dreadful pain. 
 I cannot stand." 
 
 Biddulph now saw that there was something seriously 
 wrong, 
 
 " I am afraid you have sprained your ankle ; let me feel 
 if I can find out where it is." 
 
 He took one small dainty foot in his hand after the other, 
 j\nd Nora moaned with pain as he did so. Both ankles 
 were terribly injured by her sudden fall on the hard rock. 
 Her feet must have struck first, and the shock had dis- 
 placed, if not broken, some of the bones. 
 
 " There is no more walking for you to-day," said Bid- 
 dulph, trying to speak cheerfully, though he now fully 
 realized the severe nature of the accident. " The question 
 is, what shall we do ? I have luckily a dog-whistle in my 
 pocket ; perhaps they may hear it below. You have got a 
 bad sprain." 
 
 so 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 A1 
 
 •ward, seizing 1 
 )ast him, and 
 
 -ipe, for Bid- 
 r white serge 
 1 a sharp and 
 
 back on Bid- 
 
 Jr on a little 
 
 )roken voice ; 
 her eyes, and 
 
 3o any harm, 
 )eaking reas- 
 ed, and notli- 
 
 3st solemnly, m 
 er her, ''you 
 my arm, and 
 ire you make | 
 
 ut no sooner ^ 
 e more with 
 
 readful pain. 
 
 ng seriously ^ 
 
 ; let me feel M 
 
 erthe other, 
 Both ankles 
 e hard rock. 
 )ck had dis- 
 
 '," said Bid- 
 B now fully 
 'he question 
 listle in my 
 I have got a 
 
 He rose and whistled loudly; but already the falling 
 Icrag, whicli had plunged in its headlong career from one 
 rocky step to the other, had attracted the attention of the 
 party below. 
 
 Alick Fraser, indeed, who had come armed with a new 
 ield-glass strapped across his shoulder, had never in real- 
 ity lost sight of the two climbing up the mountain-side, 
 land had sat smoking, and reflecting grimly that he would 
 .like to find out something about this new man, who seemed 
 so favored by a lady whose acres marched wi.h his own. 
 
 Then, when the crag fell tumbling into some abyss be- 
 low, and Biddulph's whistle was faintly heard, Alick at 
 once unstrapped his new glass. 
 
 " Something has liappened," he said, the next minute. 
 " Nora Stewart is lying on the gr' nd, and that fellow 
 Biddulph standing whistling besid icr. We had best go 
 up to them, Jock, as fast as we can, and sec." 
 
 It took a very few minutes for the two sturdy High- 
 landers, who had been born among the hills, to reach the 
 spot where Nora lay ; and still fewer for Biddulph to ex- 
 plain how the accident had happened. Then they held a 
 consultation, and it was agreed that Nora must at once be 
 carried down the hill. 
 
 " My dear girl ! " said the kindly Jock, with a sort of 
 moisture stealing into his brown eyes, as he knelt down 
 and took Nora's hand. 
 
 " An awkward alTair," remarked Alick, in his brusque way. 
 
 By this time Mrs. Jock, and actually Mrs. Conway-Hope, 
 had succeeded in reaching the group on the hill-side. 
 
 " My dear Nora, this is very sad," said Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope ; " but I knew something would happen. You know 
 I told you so, don't you remember, dear ? And perhaps 
 it might have been worse." 
 
 But Nora, suppressing the moans that rose on her white 
 lips, scarcely thought it could have been. 
 
 CHAPTER VHI. 
 
 WHAT HE CALLED FATE. 
 
 They carried Nora down the steep hill, on one of the 
 cushions brought from the boats, Jock Fraser, Alick, and 
 Biddulph alone being her bearers. Young Malcolm, who 
 
48 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 had now arrived on the scene, in a pitiable state of emotion 
 and excitement, would fain have assisted. But his father 
 saw ho was at once too much agitated to be of any reaij 
 
 service. 
 
 *' No, my lad," he said, laying his brown, bony hand onj 
 his son's broad shoulder ; " tiie way you can help Nora^ 
 most is to make the best use you can of your young legs 
 and run down by the loch-side to Balla, and tell Dr. Alexj 
 ander togo on at once to Rossmore, so that we shall find him 
 there when we reach the little pier. You had best go at 
 o.ice, Malcolm ;" and the young man, after one more dis- 
 tracted glance at Nora's white face, obeyed his father, and 
 started ofif at headlong speed down the hill. I 
 
 Then poor Nora was carefully lifted on the cushion, 
 Biddulph holding fast the trembling little hand. 
 
 "You stay close to me," slie whispered, lifting her dark 
 eyes a moment to his face. 
 
 He grew a little paler, and his lips moved, but neither 
 Jock nor his wife, who also were bending over Nora, heard 
 any word. But he took his place by her side, and no one 
 disputed it. He and Jock Fraser carried the end of the 
 cushion on which Nora's head rested, and Alick Fraser the 
 other end. It was a somewhat perilous descent ; but 
 Alick, strong and sturdy and good cragsman, never placed 
 his foot down without testing the ground. They reached 
 the boats, therefore, without further accident, and poor 
 . Nora, still on her cushion, was lifted in ; and almost as 
 they started on their homeward journey, the mist, as Bid- 
 dulph had prophesied, came creeping down the mountain- 
 side, and began stealing over the darkening \/ater of the 
 loch, producing an indescribable chilliness and change of 
 atmosphere, and a little shiver passed through Nora's 
 frame. 
 
 "You are cold," said Biddulpli ; and he asked for the 
 fur carriage-rug, and wrapped it carefully round her, and 
 doubled a cushion, on which he lifted her head. 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope w^as looking after her own comforts, 
 and Mrs. Jock after her Minnie, who had disappeared 
 somewhere in the mist, with Lord Glendoyne by her side. 
 Jock and Alick were helping to push oflf the boats, but Bid- 
 dulph never left Nora. He sat on one of the cross seats, 
 where he could support her and hold her in her place ; 
 and he held her hand all the way as they were rowed down 
 the loch, until the little palm grew warm under the fur 
 rug, and Nora's heart was beatinor fast. 
 
A STKA.VGE MESSAGE. 
 
 49 
 
 to of emotion 
 nt his fatlierj 
 of any reai 
 
 but neither 
 Nora, heani 
 and no onr 
 ; end of the 
 : Frascr the 
 escent ; but 
 lever placed 
 hey reached 
 t, and poor 
 d almost as 
 nist, as Bid- | 
 2 mountain- 
 /ater of the 
 1 change of 
 Jgh Nora's 
 
 ked for the 
 nd her, and 
 1. 
 
 n comforts, 
 lisappeared 
 3y her side. 
 ts, but Bid- 
 cross seats, 
 her place ; 
 3wed down 
 er the fur 
 
 " Is the pain any less now ?" he asked, with unconscious 
 [enderness in his voice, bending over her a little more 
 ;losely. 
 
 " Yes, it is not so bad." 
 
 " fshall never forgive myself for taking you up there." 
 
 •' But it was I who wanted to go ; and — and I owe you 
 
 M 
 
 ly 
 
 She could not complete the sentence. Tears rushed in- 
 to her eyes, and a choking sob rose in her throat. She 
 )wed him this best gift, then — her life, and Nora knew it 
 rould have been less sweet from any other. 
 
 He did not speak ; lie clasped her hand tighter and 
 turned away his head, and Jock Fraser, whose honest eyes 
 lappened at this moment to be resting on Biddulph, won- 
 lered what caused the great look of pain that passed over 
 ihe man's face. 
 
 It was almost dark when they reached the little pier at 
 
 iRossmore, but througli the mist they could discern that 
 
 ■there were figures waiting for them. The doctor was there 
 
 I — a tall, gaunt Scotchman — and Malcolm Fraser, pale, and 
 
 still half breathless, as he i^.ad run the whole way to Balla 
 
 at utmost speed. He was waiting to pull in the boats now — 
 
 or rather the boat where poor Nora lay, for he saw, or at 
 
 I least heeded, no other. 
 
 He helped to lift Nora on the pier, and took his Uncle 
 Alick's place in carrying her up the hill to the house at 
 Rossinore. It was a melancholy home-coming. She had 
 gone forth so gay and full of joyous expectation and ex- 
 citement, and was now returning pale, exhausted, almost 
 in a fainting condition ; and as soon as they reached the 
 hall at Rossmore, the doctor stepped to the front. 
 
 "Now, Mrs. Jock," he said, in his broad Scotch accent, 
 to Mrs. Fraser, whose children he had attended since their 
 first appearance in the world, " ye'U please, ma'am, to turn 
 every one out of the room but yerself and me. The young 
 leedy must not be worried, and ye're a sensible woman, and 
 I can trust ye." 
 
 "All right, doctor," answered Mrs. Jock ; and sl:e stood 
 by Nora's bedside when her injuries were examined, and 
 the stockings cut from the small, slender, white feet. 
 
 The doctor looked very grave when he saw the condition 
 of the right foot. 
 
 " We'll not ha' ye dancing any reels this winter, anyhow, 
 Miss Stewart," he said ; *' eh, my poor lassie, you must ha' 
 had a fearsome fall." 
 
50 
 
 A iHT RANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 "Shall I ever be able to walk again, doctor ?" asked 
 Nora, in a low tone. 
 
 ''Walk again? To be sure ye will — ay, and dance, too , 
 but ye'll ha' to bide a wee ; we ha' a broken bane or two 
 to deal with." 
 
 Nora's right foot was, in truth, so terribly injured that, 
 after doing all he could. Dr. Alexander drew Mrs. Jock 
 aside. 
 
 "If yc don't mind, Mrs. Jock," he said, " and as the young 
 leedy can weel afford it, I sliould like further advice from 
 Edinbro'. Ye see, the right foot is sare displaced, and my 
 hand is not quite what it used to be, nor my sight either, 
 for that matter." 
 
 People said, indeed, that the poor doctor, during his long 
 weary rides across brae and stream to the outlying hamlets 
 in the neighborhood, was too fond of stopping to refresh 
 himself with the " mountain dew " of his native land ; and 
 that on one occasion found, to his extreme surprise, a rosy 
 babe nestling in the mother's arms, when he was quite 
 unconscious of having assisted in placing it there on the 
 previous evening. 
 
 " What bairn is this ? " he asked, when the mother proudly 
 showed the little head. 
 
 " Why, doctor ? " cried the woman, in the utmost aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 "Ay, ay, to be sure," said the doctor, who was shrewd, 
 and began to understand ; " I needn't ask whose bairn. 
 It's the living image of ye, and a bonnier bairn I never saw ; " 
 and the woman sank back with a gratified smile. 
 
 But, in spite of this weakness, the man was clever, well- 
 read, and had a kindly heart. 
 
 "One gets a bit down, ye know, Mrs. Jock," he used 
 sometimes to say to his friend and neighbor at Airdlinn ; 
 and Mrs. Jock was always ready with her good word for 
 the doctor. 
 
 "If you had to ride twenty or thirty miles in a driz- 
 zling mist or a snow-storm, Alick, and most likely not get 
 paid for your day's work," she once said to her brother-in- 
 law, " how would you like it ? And even if the poor doc- 
 tor does take a drop of whiskey too much, it's hard to blame 
 him." 
 
 " Well, he'll be found in a snow-drift some day, Jeanie," 
 answered Alick, with his cold smile ; but Mrs. Jock sighed, 
 and was ready to forgive an over-worked, conscientious, 
 and clever man his one failiniJ:. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 5« 
 
 And slic went downstairs to the dnuviiig-room, where 
 Nora's ji^iicsts were waiting to hear tlie doctor's opinion, 
 with a very grave face. She beckoned to her liusband 
 as she entered the rooai, and he at once went toward her. 
 
 "Joci<," she said, " I'll not leave Rossniore until Nora 
 Stewart can leave her room." 
 
 '* Well, my dear," he answered, resignedly, though he 
 knew he would be very uncomfortable without her. 
 
 " How is she, Jeanie ? " asked Alick Fraser, now ad- 
 vancing. 
 
 "Very bad, I am afraid, Alick ; Dr. Alexander wants a 
 telegram sent first thing in the morning to Edinburgh for 
 a doctor." 
 
 "That looks serious," said Alick. 
 
 Mr. Hiddulph heard this conversation, and a moment 
 later approached Mrs. Jock. 
 
 "What doctor does he want, Mrs. Fraser?" he said, 
 speaking sharply and quickly to hide his feelings. " 1 
 will ride to the station in the morning and meet the 
 first train, if Dr. Alexander will name the doctor he would 
 like." 
 
 " It is very kind of you," said Mrs. Jock, who felt some- 
 what resentful toward Biddulph, as she thought he must 
 have led Nora into danger; "but some of us— some of her 
 own people, I think — had better send the telegram." 
 
 Hiddulph bit his lips, and stood silent. 
 
 " I'll send a groom to meet the first train with a tele- 
 gram," said Alick Fraser. " I'll go now and see Alexander, 
 and consult what doctor to telegraph for." 
 
 He quitted the room as he spoke, and again Mrs. Jock 
 turned to her husband. 
 
 " Now, Jock, my dear," she suggested, "don't you think 
 you and the young people should be going home ? The 
 quieter the house is kept the better for Nora. I mean, of 
 course, to stay." 
 
 "But, my dear Mrs. Fraser, do not inconvenience your- 
 self by doing so," said Mrs. Conway-Hope. " I shall be 
 quite able to manage without further assistance until Nora 
 is well." 
 
 "Nora wishes me to stay," replied Mrs. Jock, firmly. 
 
 "Oh, i(. that case " 
 
 "We have settled it all upstairs," said Mrs. Jock; 
 "and now I am going back to her, and wish yon all good- 
 night." 
 
 She looked round for Biddulph, but he had disappeared. 
 
 - 
 
 :!;i 
 
 i\ : 
 
52 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 Lord Glendoyne, however, advanced and held out hisj 
 hand. 
 
 "Will you tell Miss Stewart from me, Mrs. Fraser," liel 
 said, in his slow, graceful way, " how deeply I regret thai 
 such an unfortunate accident should have occurred, on| 
 what otherwise would have been a most delightful day." 
 
 " I will tell her, Lord Glendoyne ; and I hope you will] 
 look us up at Airdlinn." 
 
 " I have already asked permission to do so. I shall cer- 
 tainly give myself that pleasure." 
 
 " My husband, I am sure, will be pleased to see you.l 
 I mean to remain here for the present, with Miss Stewart.| 
 Good-night." 
 
 She shook hands with him, and then returned to Nora's] 
 bedside, who looked up with interest as she entered. 
 
 " I hope they are having tea, and everything downstairs 
 that they require ? " asked poor Nora, who was very hos- 
 pitable, 
 
 " My dear, I've sent them all away, Jock and the chil- 
 dren among the rest." 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Fraser I And— Lord Glendoyne and Mr. 
 Biddulph?" 
 
 " Lord Glendoyne was just going as I came upstairs, 
 and Mr. Biddulph had disappeared, so I suppose he is 
 gone, too. And now, my dear child, you must try to get 
 to sleep, and not worry yourself about any of them." 
 
 But Nora could not sleep ; the pain was too great, and 
 the shock to her nerves too recent. And presently the 
 doctor came in to have another look at her, and then went 
 out to smoke his pipe on the terrace in the misty atm.os- 
 phere, for he meant to stay all night with his young p.i- 
 tient at Rossmore. 
 
 As he walked up and down, his tall, gaunt figure, visible 
 only when he passed the lighted windows, another figure 
 emerged from the shade of the dark firs, and a moment 
 later Mr. Biddulph had joined him. 
 
 " I must introduce myself to you. Dr. Alexander," he 
 said, raising his cap with that grave courtesy of manner 
 which always distinguished him. " I am Mr. Biddulph, 
 of Dunbaan." 
 
 " Ay ; the old colonel's nephew. I heard ye were in 
 these parts." 
 
 " I have waited to see you. I particularly wish to know 
 what you think of Miss Stewart, as the accident happened 
 while she was with me." 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 53 
 
 le and Mr. 
 
 ' were in 
 
 '* Ay, but she told me she owed her life to ye, Mr. Bid- 
 [dulpli, and the tears were in her bonny dark eyes when 
 'she was telling the story. What do I think of her ? W'eel, 
 I'm sare afraid it's a bad job." 
 
 " Is she so injured ? " 
 
 '• Badly hurt. It will be many a lang day before she 
 can put her foot to the ground." 
 
 Biddulph did not speak ; but he was so visibly moved 
 thut the kindly doctor had a word of consolation to add. 
 
 " And it might ha' been a deal worse but for ye ; the 
 poor lassie might ha' been lying deed amang the crags." 
 
 " Will you tell her," began Biddulph, in a husky voice, 
 " that I — feel this most deeply ; that I trust and hope 
 soon " 
 
 He could not end the sentence ; but the doctor, with the 
 fine delicacy of feeling which was part of his nature, hid- 
 den in so rough a garb, understood. 
 
 '' I'll tell her, Mr. Biddulph. Eh, now," he added, with 
 a sniile stealing over his large features, as he turned his 
 shrewd eyes on Biddulph's face, "ye'd like to bear the pain 
 for her, wouldn't ye ? And so would I at your age, but 
 not now ;" and the poor doctor gave rather a rueful laugh. 
 
 "Bear the pain?" repeated Biddulph, quickly. "I 
 would bear a hundred thousand times the pain to spare 
 her one pang. But what folly to talk thus ! Any man 
 would do the same." 
 
 *' Not they," answered the doctor, who was a bit of a 
 philosopher ; "man is a se-fish animal, as a rule, Mr. Bid- 
 dulph, and doesn't like to put his limbi, or anything that 
 afifects his personal ease, in jeopardy. Now, there's Miss 
 Stewart, with a fine, sensitive physical frame, yet she's ly- 
 ing quieter than many alang-legged loon v ould do, if his 
 foot was twisted as badly as hers." 
 
 " She has a noble nature — you can see it on her face — 
 and all noble natures can endure." 
 
 "To a certain point, yes ; they can bear the big troubles 
 of life, though, better than the small ones. But it's a 
 weary life, after all, Mr. Biddulph," and the doctor sighed. 
 
 " Often a very bitter one," answered Biddulph, And 
 the doctor wondered what bitterness had come to the lot 
 of this apparently fortunate man. 
 
 They parted on friendly terms a few minutes later, and 
 Biddulph went home with a disturbed and heavy heart. 
 
 " I meant to have said good-by to-day," he told himself 
 gloomily, as he strained his eyes through the mist to watch 
 
54 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 the twinkling lights of che house at Rossmore, as his men 
 rowed him across the loch ; " but now it cannot be. Blind, 
 irresistible fate holds me fast, and the end is hidden from 
 my sight." - 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ALICKS CLERK. 
 
 Alick Fraser despatched two telegrams early the next 
 morning. One to the surgeon in Edinburgh, that Dr. 
 Alexander wislied to meet ; and the other to his own clerk 
 at Glasgow, who was named Mr. Sandford Hill. 
 
 When Alick Fraser retired from the firm of ship-build- 
 ers, of which he was then the head, he. did not invest all 
 the large fortune he had acquired in the somewhat un- 
 profitable Highland acres that it had been his life-long am- 
 bition to possess. 
 
 He bought Lord Glendoyne's property, w^hich was then 
 in the market ; but the bulk of his money was left in the 
 busy city where he had made it. He was the owner of 
 houses, railway shares, canal shares, and steamers. In 
 fact, he was rich ; and, though he assumed the laird at In- 
 ismore, in Glasgow he was still a shrewd, clever man of 
 business ; and Mr. Sandford Hill, at a humble distance, 
 followed in his footsteps. 
 
 Alick, in his telegram, had summoned Mr. Hill to Inis- 
 more, and on the following day Mr. Hill had arrived. A 
 little dapper man this, with a round face, fresh complex- 
 ion, and eager, greenish-blue eyes. He had light, short, 
 sandy hair and was universally in Glasgow called Sandy 
 Hiil. He liad never before been invited to Inismore, and 
 was pleased and proud to receive this token of his em- 
 ployer's favor. 
 
 '* Well, Sandy," said Alick, who was sitting writing, 
 looking round when " Mr. Hill " was announced, but 
 not rising. Then lie held out his hard, strong hand, 
 which was clasped with respectful fervor by hi's clerk. 
 *'And what do you think of the place?" asked Alick, 
 now moving his chair, so as to have a fuller view of Mr. 
 Hill. 
 
 " Princely," replied Mr. Hill, almost in a tone of awe, 
 glancing round Alick's well-furnished room, and finally 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 55 
 
 fixing his round eyes on the decorated ccilii ^ ; "no other 
 word would do, sir — -princely ! " 
 
 *' It's not bad," said Alick, with suppressed pride. 
 
 /'Not bad? Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Mr. Hill, unable to 
 control his delight. " That is like you, sir — always a joke ; 
 not bad, not bad, indeed ! " 
 
 "And yonder is my brother's place," continued Alick, 
 rising and proudly pointing across the loch to Airdlinn ; 
 " there is the old roof tree under which I was born." 
 
 Sandy's face became instantly grave. 
 
 " It's inspiring, sir," he said ; " I call it absolutely in- 
 spiring. The ancient family home in view of the princely 
 residence raised by — energy, sir, genius, sir, industry, sir ; 
 you have 'em all." 
 
 " Well, I've not worked for nothing, Sandy, eh ? " smiled 
 Alick. 
 
 " You've only got your due, sir ; a head like yours must 
 win — a marvellous head ! " 
 
 " One requires a long head." 
 
 "Yes, yes ; one requires it — a shrewd, long head and a 
 mind, sir. The mind must be there." 
 
 " I want you to use yours then, Sandy, at the present 
 moment. I have sent for you on a little business." 
 
 " I hoped so, sir," answered Sandy, doing his best not to 
 betray his disappointment. He had hoped that Alick had 
 intended to pay him a compliment by inviting him to Inis- 
 more, though he knew this was not Alick's way. 
 
 " There is a man who has lately arrived here," continued 
 Alick, beginning to pace the room with his stalwart steps ; 
 " a new man, whose past history I want to find out. He 
 is called Biddulph ; and his uncle, the late Colonel Bid- 
 dulph, left him a place across the loch named Dunbaan ; 
 and I have a motive for finding out all about him. Do you 
 understand ?" 
 
 " Perfectly," said Sandy, who had been listening with 
 profound attention. 
 
 " I want you to stay on here, then, for a few days ; to mix 
 familiarly with the keepers and others, and learn all you 
 can." 
 
 But Sandy's face had changed color at the word " keep- 
 ers." 
 
 " I would do anything for you, as you know, sir," he said, 
 shifting uneasily first one foot and then the other ; "but 
 as regards fire-arms, I'll admit, sir, I am nervous." 
 
 Alick laughed his loud laugh, 
 
56 
 
 A STRASGE MESSAGE. 
 
 "I forgot you arc a bit of a coward," ^e said. "Mix 
 with the maids then, man, if you like it better; only find 
 out about Biddulph, and report it to me." 
 
 " Do you wish the report to be favorable or otherwise, 
 sir ?" said Sandy, resuming his business habits. 
 
 Again Alici< hujghed. 
 
 " Well, I'm not particularly fond of him," he said. 
 
 *' I uiid(irstand," answered Sandy; *' Mr. Biddulph's pri- 
 vate life and character to be inquired into. Inquiries, of 
 course, on the fjuiet ? " 
 
 "Of course. And, Sandy, as these things cost money, 
 there is ten pounds to Ijegin with;" and Alick drew out 
 from his o[)en desk ten so^*reigns, which Sandy respect- 
 fully pocketed. 
 
 "And I've been thinking," went on Alick, who never al- 
 lowed any fine feelings t(j stand in his way, " that it wouldn't 
 do about liere for you to be known to be in my direct em- 
 ployment. People would not be so open with you as I wish 
 them to be. Vou nuist assume another character, Sanay ; 
 be a j^ainter, or a house decorator — anything." 
 
 Sandy was n(H cjuite unaccustomed to carry on private 
 !iiquiri(;s. More than once he had ferreted out information 
 that had been of great assistance to Alick Fraser ; but to 
 be recjuested to assume a new character was rather startling. 
 However, alter considering a few moments, he had a sug- 
 gestion to oiler. 
 
 " I've a brother, sir," he said, " in a small way as an up- 
 holsterer." 
 
 "The very thing ! " cried Alick. " Be your brother for 
 the next few days. vSome of the upper bedrooms are not 
 furnished yet ; pretend to be taking an inventory of what 
 is wanted. This will throw you with the women about the 
 house, and you'll iiear all their gossip. Not that I want to 
 hear it, though," he added, "except as regards Biddulph." 
 
 "Only as regards Biddulph," repeated Sandy. 
 
 "And now, 1 dare say you w-^nt something to eat. I'll 
 ring for my housekeeper, Mrs. Ker, and introduce her to Mr. 
 Hill, the upholsterer, and tell her you are a most respect- 
 able man, (|uiie to be trusted ;" and once more Alick Fra- 
 ser laughed his loud laugh. 
 
 He carried this programme out. Mrs. Ker, a comely, 
 middle-aged widow, presently received her master's com- 
 mands to treat Mr. Hill, the upholsterer from Glasgow, well 
 and show him the rooms that wanted furnishing, and any- 
 thing about the place that was worth seeing. 
 
aid. " Mix 
 J only find 
 
 othenvise. 
 
 said. 
 
 '"^Ph's pri- 
 iquiries, of 
 
 St money, 
 
 drew out 
 
 7 respect- 
 
 » never al- 
 t wouldn't ^, 
 direct em- 
 
 as I wish 
 
 , Sanay ; 
 
 n private 
 orniation 
 ^ ; but to 
 startling, 
 id a sug- 
 
 ^s an up- 
 
 ther for 
 are not 
 of what 
 5out the 
 want to 
 dulph." 
 
 It. I'Ji 
 • to Mr. 
 -spect- 
 kFra- 
 
 )mely, 
 ' com- 
 \ weJI 
 I any- 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 57 
 
 " Don't be frightened of him, Mrs. Ker," said Alick, with 
 his peculiar smile ; *' he's a very respectable man." 
 
 Mrs. Ker smiled, bridled, and blushed. 
 
 "Mr. Fraser always has his joke, you know," she said to 
 Sandy, as she led the way to her own comfortable sitting- 
 room, and there proceeded to refresh Sandy with Highland 
 mutton and whiskey, to say nothing of oatcake and delicious 
 butter. 
 
 "This is a charming place, madam," said Sandy, pausing 
 for one moment in his repast. 
 
 " The scenery's fine, but it's dull," answered Mrs. Ker, 
 who had once been in Edinburgh, and loved the ways of 
 towns. 
 
 " But you'll have neighbors," said Sandv, with his mouth 
 full. 
 
 " Few and fur between, as the saying is," replied Mrs. 
 Ker. "Mr. Fraser's brother lives across the loch, and a 
 new gentleman has come to that side lately, Mr. Biddulph ; 
 but our nearest neighbor is Miss Stewart, of Rossmore." 
 
 "A young lady ?" asked Sandy. 
 
 "Oh, quite a young lady, and considered handsome, 
 though she's too pale for my taste." 
 
 " Perhaps she and Mr. Fraser will be making a match of 
 it," said Sandy, helping himself a second time to oatcake 
 and butter. 
 
 ** Oh dear, no ! She's too young for Mr. Fraser, though 
 he's a fine man. They do say she and Mr. Biddulph are 
 sweethearts ; only they've got up sonic sad stories about 
 him lately ;" rd Mrs. Ker cast down her eyes. 
 
 " Another lady in the case ? " asked Sandy, facetiously. 
 
 " So they say. But, Mr. Hill, you must take a little 
 more whiskey after your long journey." 
 
 " Not unless you'll join me, madam," said Sandy, gal- 
 lantly ; and Mrs. Ker having been persuaded to do so, be- 
 came very communicative, and Sandy heard all he wanted 
 to hear, and a good deal more. 
 
 Mrs. Ker's late husband's sister was upper housemaid at 
 Dunbaan, and this young woman had spent the afternoon 
 of the previous day with her sister-in-law, and told Mrs. 
 Ker all about the mysterious lady who had arrived at 
 Dunbaan ; and the trees in the avenue which had been 
 felled by the master's orders because "a queer, outlandish 
 woman's name " had been cut in the bark. 
 
 " They do say, indeed," Mrs. Ker went on, waxing confi- 
 dential, " that old Donald, the man-servant over there, 
 
58 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 heard this lady say she was his wedded wife, though she 
 was nothing particular to look at, I'm told ; and Donald 
 said high words passed between them. At all events, hej 
 got rid of her pretty sharp, and Janet says he has never 
 been the same man to look at since — so down-hearted and 
 low." 
 
 "And what is he like, this gay young party?" asked 
 Sandy, whose spirits the whiskey had now raised to jocose- 
 ness. 
 
 " As fine a man as I ever saw," replied Mrs. Ker, who 
 spoke with authority, ** with a noble look about his face, 
 and carries himself well ; and they say he has an open 
 hand. It will be a great pity if he has let this person get 
 some hold upon him." 
 
 " Such things are, Mrs. Ker," answered Sandy, rather 
 insinuating that he had been the victim of female wiles. 
 
 "Yes, indeed/' sighed Mrs. Ker. 
 
 But enough of this conversation. Sandy felt he had not 
 wasted his time, and when, during the evening, he had a 
 quiet talk with Alick Fraser outside the house, so that no 
 listening ear might have the benefit of his words, Alick 
 was quite content with the information he had acquired. 
 
 " This is enough to settle the fellow's pretensions," he 
 thought grimly. " I'll go to Rossmore to-morrow, and 
 have a talk with Mrs. Jock." 
 
 In the meanwhile, Leonora Stewart was enduring, as 
 bravely as she could, the severe pain that at times seemed 
 almost too great to be borne. The doctor from Edinburgh, 
 as well as Dr. Alexander, had looked very grave when he 
 was examining her right foot, and candidly admitted to 
 Mrs. Jock afterward that he feared " the poor young lady 
 might be slightly lame for life." And when Mrs. Jock re- 
 peated this to Mr. Biddulph, who had called shortly after 
 the doctor left, she noticed he grew very pale. 
 
 This touched Mrs. Jock's kindly heart. 
 
 " At all events," she said, " but for you the accident might 
 have been much worse. Nora has told me exactly how it 
 happened— how you were urging her to leave the hill-side, 
 when, without speaking, she foolishly quitted your side 
 and mounted on the loose boulder, that she expected was 
 solid rock. She speaks very highly of your presence of 
 mind in such a sud len emergency," 
 
 " Yet I always feel as if I had injured her," said Bid- 
 dulph. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 59 
 
 " Injury is better than death, at all events, Mr. Bid- 
 dulph." 
 
 " That is so. I am glad at least you are able to remain 
 with her." 
 
 ** Oh, my good Jock is getting on very well without 
 me ! " laughed Mrs. Fra°er ; but she was pleased. What 
 woman, or man indeed, is. not pleased to receive a veiled 
 compliment ? 
 
 Yet, later on in ttie day, Mrs. Jock's kindly feeling tow- 
 ard Mr. Biddulph again veered round ; for her brother- 
 in-law, Alick, arrived at Rossmore, armed with his story 
 against their new neighbor. 
 
 After inquiring about " Nora Stewart," as he called her, 
 and having heard the doctor's opinion, and also that Mr. 
 Biddulph had called, Alick imparted his news. 
 
 "I say, Jeanie," he said, "you should give her a hint 
 about that fellow. There's a very ugly story going the 
 round of the countryside about him." 
 
 " About Mr. Biddulph ? " asked Mrs. Jock. 
 
 "About Mr. Biddulph, no less. Folks say Mr. Biddulph 
 is married or that he ought to be, and that a lady has been 
 to Dunbaan and kicked up a tremendous row, and that 
 Biddulph had to buy her silence." 
 
 '* Is this true, Alick ? " said Mrs. Jock, gravely. 
 
 " Quite true, I'm told. Nora Stewart had best have as 
 little to say to him as possible. I never liked the fellow." 
 
 " If he is a married man, he has no right to pay Nora 
 Stewart so much attention. I shall certainly tell her what 
 you have told me." 
 
 " It's only fair she should know. Good-by, Jeanie ; love 
 to Jock and Minnie when you see them." 
 
 Mrs. Jock walked thoughtfully upstairs after her brother- 
 in-law had left Rossmore. She was not a scandalous wom- 
 an, but, on the other hand, she was a rigidly moral one, 
 and had not much forgiveness nor pity for those who 
 strayed from the right path. Yet she felt this was an awk- 
 ward story to repeat to an unmarried girl ; there might be 
 some truth in it, but it might not be entirely true. 
 
 But could she have looked into Nora's heart at this mo- 
 ment, she would not long have hesitated in doing what she 
 would have considered her duty. Lying there in great 
 pain, what had given Nora courage heroically to endure 
 it, and power to force back the moans which rose on her 
 pale lips ? A sweet, subtle, soul-pervading thought — a 
 knowledge that he who had saved her loved her, that h« 
 
6o 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 -iuv. 
 
 would gladly have borne this pain for licr, and that I1I3 
 anxiety about her was very great. 
 
 Dr. Alexander had told her, in his homely, kindly fash- 
 ion, about his talk with Biddulph on the night of the ac- 
 cident. 
 
 "Eh, but young Icedy, ye must soon get weel, or the 
 poor fellow will go dement," he had said, remembering, 
 perhaps, the days when he, too, as a raw yourg Scotch lad, 
 had sighed and loved. 
 
 The poor fellow had indeed been unfortunate all the 
 days of his life. The son of a farmer, he had fallen in 
 love during his studious youth with the pretty daughter 
 of one of the small lairds in his neighborhood, and, 
 though he had never spoken to the young lady, his ad- 
 miration for her had influenced his life. He had risen 
 early and worked late ; for her sake he meant to become 
 great, and started for London with twenty pounds in his 
 pocket, determined to laboriously climb the steep ladder 
 of fame. 
 
 Instead of which he very nearly starved. He struggled 
 on four or five years ; he learned his Janet (the laird's 
 pretty daughter) was mairied, and he gave the fight up. 
 He returned to the Highland hills where he had been born, 
 no richer than when he went away. But he had, of course, 
 acquired knowledge, and he became a badly paid country 
 doctor, instead of a highly feed London physician, which 
 he had aspired to be. 
 
 And he took a sombre, but still a kindly, view of the 
 world in which he had failed to gain success. 
 
 " Every man cannot win," he used to say, sadly enough, 
 speaking very good English generally when he philoso- 
 phized, though relapsing into broad Scotch in ordinary 
 conversation. 
 
 And there was something in Biddulph's face which had 
 taken the fancy of this clever, yet unfortunate man. He 
 had read there indications of a loftier train of thought 
 than he found among those with whom he commonly 
 associated. How strange it is ! Even the words of a letter 
 show signs of the human being that penned the lines. We 
 cannot quite disguise our nature, just as we ca..not turn 
 ugliness to beauty by spurious art. We can make our- 
 selves look better ; we can hide as best we can this fault 
 or the other, and would have the world believe it is not 
 there. But it peeps out ; the mean man is mean still, in 
 spite of some ostentatious gift, and the noble heart noble 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 6l 
 
 still, though evil tim^s may have clouded some of its high 
 hopes. And the Scotch doctor, with those small shrewd 
 eyes of his, saw further than most men. In a pithy sentence 
 lie had once estimated very justly the character of the two 
 Frasers. 
 
 " Jock's heart is good, and Alick's head," he had dryly 
 remarked of his neighbors ; and in Biddulph's gray eyes 
 he had seen a glimpse, it might be of an erring, but still a 
 loftv soul. 
 
 He had soon an opportunity of further judging of his 
 character, for a day or two after Nora's accident, as the 
 doctor sat smoking after his mid-day meal, and fortifying 
 himself with a glass of toddy before starting on a long 
 ride through the drizzling rain, Mr. Biddulph was an- 
 nounced, and the doctor rose, and stretched out his lean 
 hand. 
 
 "Glad to see ye, sir, though this is but a dreary day." 
 
 '' J have come to place myself under your care, doctor," 
 Sciid Biddulph, a dusky blush stealing to his usually pale 
 skin. 
 
 "Eh, and what is wrang now ?" asked the doctor, put- 
 ting on his professional air, and eying the healthful coun- 
 tcnance before him. 
 
 " I suppose it's the climate," answered Biddulph, "but 
 I've got — well, a pain in my shoulder." 
 
 " Bad ? " inquired the doctor, laconically. 
 
 "Well, not very bad," answered Biddulph, moving un- 
 easily beneath the shrewd eyes fixed upon him. 
 
 The doctor went through the usual formalities ; the pa- 
 tient's tongue was red, his pulse strong and steady. 
 
 "These attacks are vera' subtle," said the doctor, with 
 just a twinkle of humor in his small eyes. "However, 
 I'll gi' ye something to rub on yer shoulder, Mr. Bid- 
 dulph, and send the lad across the loch with it before 
 nightfall." 
 
 " Oh, I'll call for it to-morrow ; that will do," answered 
 Biddulph, with assumed carelessness. " And how is your 
 other patient this morning — Miss Stewart ?" 
 
 " Miss Leon )ra Stewart," answered the doctor, with im- 
 perturbable gravity of tone, though that touch of humor 
 still lurked in his eyes, " is doing as weel as we can hope. 
 I must tell her ye're a fellow-sufferer." 
 
 Biddulph then proceeded to ask various questions about 
 Nora, and then, just as he was going away, he said : 
 
 " You'll not forget to have that stuff ready in the morn- 
 
6a 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 ing, then ? I'll call for it about this time, and hope I'll 
 find you at home*" 
 
 "Then yc're na' in a hurry for it ? " 
 
 "Oh, to-morrow will 'lo. Good by, doctor." And they 
 shook hands and parted, and as Biddulph turned away, a 
 grim smile stole over Dr. Alexander's face. 
 
 "De'il a bit of a pain he has," he muttered to himself, 
 as he tinished his whiskey, " unless it's under his left ribs. 
 Eh, but," he added, after a moment's thought, his mind 
 wandering back to his own early love-mischance, " maybe 
 that's the worst pain of a' ;" and the poor djctor heaved 
 a heavy sigh. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A 15L0W. 
 
 Nora Stewart grew very impatient after a week's con- 
 fincmient to her room, to jcave it, and finally persuaded 
 Dr. Alexander to allow her to be carried on a couch into 
 the drawing-room, just * i days after the eventful picnic, 
 when she had so nearly lost her life. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Biddulph had been a most exemplary 
 patient to the doctor, going regularly every day for the 
 embrocation tor his shoulder, and using actually marvellous 
 quantities of it. 
 
 " What ! more lO-day ! " the doctor said once, in affected 
 surprise. " Eh, mon, ye. must rub yerscl' weel?" 
 
 "Not a drop left," answered Biddulph, suppressing a 
 smile ; which in truth there was not, as he had emptied 
 the bottle inio he loch as he crossed. 
 
 The doctor discreetly never asked to look at the 
 afflicted shoulder, as he knew no skin could possibly be 
 left on it if half his bottles had been applied. And thus 
 Biddulph heard every day how Nora was going on ; 
 heard the day she was to be carried into the drawing- 
 room, and sent a message by tlie doctor that l?e hoped to 
 be one of her earliest visitors. 
 
 And it chanced that he found her alone. Two days 
 after Nora's accident, Mrs. Conway-Hope, who had se- 
 cretly resented Mrs. Jock having been invited to stay at 
 Rossmore, went up to Nora's room, and said, with sup- 
 pressed bitterness : 
 
A STRANGE Ar/u^SAGF. 
 
 ^'3 
 
 " My dear Nora, since Mrs. Frascr has taken up her 
 quarters here, and since you seem to prefer her society in 
 your sick-room to mine, 1 iiave taken the opportunity of 
 writing to my poor dear husband's cousins, the Dal- 
 rimples, to tell them I shall have pleasure in gohig to 
 them for a short visit." 
 
 " Very well, Cousin Margaret," answered Leonora, 
 quietly. 
 
 Thus, Mrs. Conway-IIopc having disposed of herself, 
 and the two young girls, Maud and Alice l.ce, having 
 also left Rossmore and returned to England, Mrs. Jock 
 and Nora had been left alone during the past week ; and 
 on the very day when Nora had wrung from the doc- 
 tor leave to be carried into the drawing-room, .i note 
 arrived from Jock Fraser for his wife, asking her to go 
 over to Airdlinn during the afternoon, as poor Minnie 
 had already got the household accounts into a terrible 
 muddle. 
 
 The pretty Minnie, indeed, had been thinking of other 
 things besides household accounts during her mother's 
 absence. Lord Glendoyne had called one day at Aird- 
 liim, and found Jock Fraser and Malcolm were both 
 away on the hills. Glendoyne, however, paid a long 
 visit, and before he left he and Minnie had fixed to meet 
 again. Thus, economic cares had been forgotten, and the 
 giving out of sugar, candles, and soap had become a 
 burden, and Minnie had handed over her mother's sa- 
 cred store-closet key to the cook, and Jock Fraser was 
 disturbed in his mind consiciering sundry good things 
 which sensible Mrs. Jock always kept locked away. 
 
 Thus he recalled his wife, for a few hours at least, to 
 look after her household treasures, and Mrs. Jock found 
 herself constrained to go. She, however, urged on Nora 
 not to attempt to be moved into the drawing-room un- 
 til her return. But Nora displayed an extraordinary 
 amount of determination, she thought (obstinacy, Mrs. 
 Jock secretly reflected), upon the subject. No, she 
 would not be persuaded ; she would be carried into the 
 drawing-room immediately after lunch, and nothing Mrs. 
 Jock could say had the least effect upon her. And carried 
 in she was. Her couch was placed near a glowing fire, 
 and a new novel put into her hands, and then kindly Mrs. 
 Jock was forced to leave her. 
 
 "Now, ray dear, if anyone but the doctor calls, I should 
 not see them," was Mrs. Jock's parting advice. 
 
 /-T^ 
 
64 
 
 A sTKAvar-: ^mssAGE. 
 
 " Indeed, 1 shall, though, apswoved Nora, smiling ; "it 
 will be quite a delightful change." 
 
 Mrs. Jock shrugged her broad shuulders. 
 
 " Thank vou, my dear ! " 
 
 "Oh, you dear, good darling, you know I don't mean 
 you ! " cried Nora from her couch, holding out her hand ; 
 and Mrs. Jock went up to her and kissed her pale, sweet face. 
 
 " No, I don't think you did, Nora. Well, then, good- 
 by, my dear, until I come back." 
 
 So Mrs. Jock went away, and Nora was left alone with 
 jier novel and her thoughts. Tlie poor novel had no 
 chance. The characters might have lived in the writer's 
 brain, or only been faintly sketched there — so faintly 
 they took no real semblance to the reader's mind, and it 
 was quite the same to Leonora Stewart, as she lay there 
 with fast-beating heart, listening for the footsteps of the 
 man to whom she believed she owed her life. 
 
 The doctor, like a man of honor, felt he must do some 
 service for his new patient, in return for the five-pound 
 note that Mr. Biddulph had thrust into his hand in pay- 
 ment for tlie numerous embrocations he had received ; 
 therefore, as before related, he had informed Biddulph of 
 the day, nay, even the hour, on which once more Miss 
 Stewart would be visible to her friends. 
 
 "Mr. Biddulph asked me to tell ye, Miss Stewart," he 
 had quietly informed Nora, when Mrs. Jock happened to 
 be out of the way, "that he hopes to pay his respects to ye 
 to-morrow — that is, of course," he added, «Jyiy, *' if his 
 rheumatics will permit." 
 
 *' Has he been ill ? " inquired Nora, with a blush. 
 
 A grim smile stole over the doctor's rough though kind- 
 ly face. 
 
 ''Weel, he's na* in danger," he answered ; ** though," 
 he added humorously, " he's unco' fond o' medical advice. 
 I've had him daily, Miss Stewart since yer illness ; he 
 fashes a deal o'er that shoulder o' his." 
 
 Again Nora blushed ; and blushed more deeply still 
 when, early in the afternoon of her first appearan<:e ii; the 
 drawing-room, the rheumatic patient himself was an- 
 nounced. 
 
 But Biddulph looked very pale. He went up (to her 
 couch and took her hand almost without a word. 
 
 "Are— you better?" faltered Nora, vaguely remember- 
 ing in her confusion that Dr. Alexander had said he had 
 been ill. 
 
A STRAiXGE MESSAGE. 
 
 «s 
 
 lone with 
 1 had no 
 e writer's 
 5o faintly 
 titl, and it 
 lay there 
 Ps of the 
 
 Then Biddulph smiled, still looking at her with thoL-e 
 deep gray eyes of his, which always softened when they 
 rested on her face. 
 
 "vSo the doctor has been telling you," he said, smiling. 
 " I fear he was too acute for me ; I do not think he be- 
 lieved in my rheumatism." 
 
 They both laughed, and Biddulph went a step nearer 
 Nora's couch. 
 
 " I wanted to hear how you were every day. I had to 
 make some excuse, you know." 
 
 *'Yes ; it was very kind of you." 
 
 " And how are you, now, when I see you face to face ? " 
 said Biddulph, slowly. " I have heard of you every day, 
 as I have told you — heard of your heroic endurance of t*^e 
 crudest pain." 
 
 " I am afraid the doctor has exaggerated. I really bear 
 pain very badly." 
 
 " You have the sensitive organization which feels it 
 acutely ; but we won't talk of it. Has our good friend, 
 Mrs. Jock, left you ?" 
 
 "Only for a few hours. It seems," added Nora, with a 
 smile, "that the pretty Minnie is not such a good house- 
 keeper as her mother, so my cousin Jock sent for his wife 
 to look after her." 
 
 " I like both your cousin Jock and his wife, but not Alick 
 Fraser, if he is a cousin, too." 
 
 "Oh, I don't regard Alick Fraser as a cousin." 
 
 " I am glad of that. How is it, now, I have an instinctive 
 dislike to that man, yet he has done me no harm ? " 
 
 "Our likes and dislikes are unaccountable things." 
 
 " But are they ? " said Biddulph, looking fixedly at Nora. 
 " Perhaps there are laws in these things like the laws of 
 storms, whose effects we feel, though we cannot see them. 
 Our dislikes may be sent as warnings to avoid the people 
 who cause them in our minds. There is a look in Alick 
 Fraser's hard brown eyes I absolutely hate ! " 
 
 " I never think of him enough to hate him," laughed 
 Nora. 
 
 " Yet I believe he thinks very often of you. I notice he 
 watches you." 
 
 " Oh, no ; I believe he thinks of nothing but his money- 
 bags." 
 
 " Oh, yes, but he does ; he's a money grubber, no doubt, 
 but he is also iimbitious. I expect he wishes to become a 
 very great man, indeed ; to ^ound a family to whom to be- 
 
66 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 queath his ancestral acres at Inismorc ;" and Biddulph 
 laughed. 
 
 Nora laughed, too, and blushed a little. 
 
 " He will leave his money to Malcolm and Minnie, I 
 should think. Why, he is quite an old man. But talking 
 of Inismore reminds me of Lord Glendoyne ; how do you 
 like him?" 
 
 " Very well. He is a very gentlemanly man in manner." 
 
 "In manner?" said Nora, looking up smilingly. 
 
 " I mean I am not quite sure whether But jSrst tell 
 
 me your definition of a gentleman ?" 
 
 "I think it should mean one who is gentle and true in 
 word and deed," answered Nora, looking at Biddulph with 
 her large dark eyes, and his fell as she did so. 
 
 " It's a hard title to rightly win, then," he said, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 Nora moved uneasily, and her face flushed. It crossed 
 her mind again at that moment, the strange warning she 
 had received not to trust in Biddulph. 
 
 " Some day," he said, the next minute, ** I will tell you 
 a story, and you must tell me if the hero has any right to 
 be called a gentleman still." 
 
 "Very well." 
 
 " But not to-day. What were we talking of ? - Oh yes — 
 Glendoyne." 
 
 "Yes ; you said he had a good manner." 
 
 "And a good appearance altogether ; but nowl am going 
 to make you laugh ; to point out a truer gentleman to my 
 mind than Glendoyne. Guess who it is." 
 
 "Jock Fraser?" 
 
 "No. The worthy Jock is an excellent fellow ; a gentle- 
 man according to your definition also, for I dare say he is 
 gentle and true in word and deed. But the lines have fallen 
 for Jock in pleasant places. He married a good woman in 
 his youth ; the good woman is by his s'de still to cheer and 
 comfort him, and help him over life's stony places. Jock 
 Fraser has been a lucky man, and never been tried in ihe 
 cruel crucible of a spoilt life. The man I mean has, and 
 come out of it sad, but not sour. What do you say to your 
 rough Scotch doctor ? " 
 
 II You mean Dr. Alexander?" said Nora, thoughtfullv. 
 
 "I mean Dr. Alexander, with his ugly face and his lingo 
 of mixed English and Scotch, and his whiskey ! I like the 
 man. He is humorous, but never coarse. He would share 
 his last penny, or his last bawbee, as in his genial hours he 
 
 -^ ffliiiii 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 67 
 
 would no doubt call it, with a friend. And I do not sup- 
 pose he has one in the wide world. I mean a friend whose 
 mind is close akin to his — one whom no time can change." 
 
 "And you think there are such ?" said Nora, her white 
 cyeliHs, with their long thick lashes, dropping over her dark 
 eyes. 
 
 "Yes, but few and far between ; a man makes but onem 
 a lifetime." * 
 
 Nora did not speak for a moment or two ; her breath 
 came a little quicker. Then she said, softly, still without 
 looking up : 
 
 " I have never thanked you for saving my life. That 
 should be a strong bond of friendship between us." 
 
 Biddulph bit his lips under his brown moustache, and 
 forced back some words he knew he had no right to 
 speak. 
 
 " Did it need this bond ?" he said in a low tone, after a 
 little pause. "A Highland gillie would have done what I 
 did as well, and better." 
 
 "But there was no Highland gillie there. I shudder 
 still when I think of that awful moment." 
 
 "I too shudder when I think of it ; but. Miss Stewart, if 
 you will permit this to be a bond between us " 
 
 At this moment the drawing-room door opened, and 
 " Mr. Malcolm Fraser " was announced. 
 
 And the young man's brown face grew absolutely pale 
 with anger as his eyes fell on Biddulph. He shook hands 
 with Nora, but only acknowledged Biddulph's salutation 
 with a haughty, distant bow. It was impossible, indeed, 
 to mistake his manner, and Biddulph drew himself up and 
 looked steadily in Malcolm's face, whose blue eyes were 
 glaring with defiance. 
 
 " My mother told me I could see you, Nora," said Mal- 
 colm. 
 
 *'Yes ; I am very pleased to see my friends again," she 
 answered, with ready tact. 
 
 " My mother will be here shortly," continued Malcolm, 
 pointedly, neither looking at, nor speaking to, Biddulph. 
 
 " She told me she would not be long away. And Low 
 have you been gettiiig on without her, Malcolm ? It is so 
 good of her to stay with me." 
 
 "She was sure to stay with you ; and you are really bet- 
 ter, Nora ! " 
 
 "Yes, much better. I have just been thanking Mr. 
 Biddulph here, Malcolm, for saving my life." 
 
68 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 " It was not a very difficult feat U seize hold of a 
 woman's dress and throw her down." 
 
 The extreme rudeness of this speech was so great that 
 Nora's fair face flushed angrily. 
 
 ♦'You are quite right, Mr. Eraser," said Biddulph, cool- 
 ly ; " it was no feat." 
 
 *' Your presence of mind and courage saved my life, at 
 least," said Nora, quickly, looking gratefully at Biadulph, 
 who quickly changed the conversation by taking up Nora's 
 novel and asking her if she had read it. 
 
 " I was trying to read it," she answered, smiling, ** when 
 you came." 
 
 They talked about the book a little while, and Malcolm 
 Fraser stood, turning first red, and then pale, deservedly 
 shut out of the conversation. Then he bade Nora good- 
 by with scant ceremony, and, without a word to Bid- 
 dulph, stalked out of the room. 
 
 " What is the matter with that very good-looking young 
 Scot ? " asked Biddulph, with a smile, as Malcolm disap- 
 peared. 
 
 '' I cannot imagine what has come over Malcolm," 
 answered Nora, who, perhaps, really had her suspicions 
 what ailed her young kinsman ; '* he used to be a nice 
 youth." 
 
 Biddulpli laughed. 
 
 '* He evidently does not think I am 
 events," said Biddulph, rising. "I sliall 
 Stewart, as I don't wish to tire you. 
 again ? " 
 
 " Indeed you may." 
 
 " I shall tell you the promised story, perhaps, next time, 
 and ask your opinion of the hero." 
 
 "Very well ; good-by, then. Come soon ; I am curious 
 to hear the story." 
 
 They shook hands and parted, and, as Biddulph went 
 down the steep avenue at Rossmore, to his surprise, near 
 the end of it he found Malcolm Fraser, who was evidently 
 waiting for him, and who raised his cap punctiliously as 
 he approached. 
 
 " I want a word with you, Mr. Biddulph," he said. 
 
 ** Certainly," replied Biddulph. 
 
 "I am Miss Nora Stewart's near kinsman," continued 
 Malcolm, growing pale with excitement, " and as such, 
 have a right to ask why you, a married man, pay my 
 cousin such marked attention." 
 
 * nice,' at all 
 
 go now. Miss 
 
 May I come 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 6g 
 
 It was now Biddulph's turw to grow pale, but his eyes 
 and voice were alilce steady ris he answered the young . 
 Highlander. 
 
 " You have no right either to ask such a question or to 
 make such an assertion," he said. 
 
 " I shall find a right," answered Malcolm, haughtily ; 
 " and can you deny my assertion ? " 
 
 " I deny your right to speak to me in such a tone, or to 
 ask me any questions whatever ; and I do not mean to 
 answer you. Good-morning." ^ 
 
 Biddulph would have walked on, but, with a fierce ex- 
 clamation, Malcolm sprang to his side. 
 
 ** Look, Mr. Biddulph, this won't serve you ! You 
 s/iaU answer. Nora Stewart's name shall not be dragged 
 to the dust by you ! " 
 
 "Qoy!" said Biddulph, "are you mad? Miss Nora 
 Stewart's name is as sacred to me as my own mother's." 
 
 " I know nothing about your mother," said Malcolm, 
 insolently; "but I do know Miss Stewart is my cousin, 
 and unless you cease your attentions to her " 
 
 Biddulph's only reply was to commence walking on, 
 while Malcolm fiercely dogged his footsteps. 
 
 "Will you answer me ?" he almost shouted. 
 
 Biddulph neither looked round nor made any reply. 
 
 " You won't speak ? " cried Malcolm, beside himself 
 with rage. " Then you are a coward — a sneaking coward ! 
 Do you hear ? " 
 
 " Say that again ! '' said Biddulph, sternly, now stop- 
 ping. 
 
 " I do say it," answered the jealous, maddened young 
 man ; " and I strike you as I would a dog ! " 
 
 He struck out his clinched hand as he spoke, and dealt 
 a heavy blow right on Biddulph's face, who, completely 
 taken by surprise, reeled back for the moment. But the 
 next he recovered himself. He had been a practised 
 athlete in his earlier days, and now, with all his passions 
 roused by the insult he had received, he attacked Malcolm 
 with such strength and science combined, that the young 
 Scot found it was all he could do to defend himself from 
 the well-directed, iron like blows of the man whose fury 
 he had provoked. 
 
 Malcolm began to step backward down the steep hill, 
 and presently a heavy thud on his chest sent him sprawl- 
 ing on the ground. 
 
 " Have you had enough ?" cried Biddulph. 
 
70 
 
 A STRAMGE MESSAGE. 
 
 " No ! " shouted Malcolm, fiercely, springing once more 
 
 to his feet. , ,. , 
 
 Again they closed in battle ; but Malcolm, blind and 
 mad with passion, never looked where he was going, and, 
 his foot catching in a rut— for the ground was very 
 uneven— he fell heavily, his head striking against a small 
 block of granite in the rough grab., which cut his fore- 
 head. 
 
 When he struggled to his knees the blood was streaming 
 down his face, and he grew faint and dizzy. 
 
 "Are you hurt?" asked Biddulph, approaching him. 
 But Malcolm answered him with a curse, and the victor, 
 seeing he was in no danger, felt a thrill of " stern joy." 
 
 "The next time you make an assertion," said Bid- 
 dulph, as a parting shot, " I advise you to be sure of 
 your facts;" and with a harsh laugh he turned *away, 
 leaving poor Malcolm to gather himself together as best 
 he could. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 NOT FIT TO RE SEEN. 
 
 Biddulph returned to Dunbaan 'with a galling sense of 
 rage in his heart, for he knew this hot-blooded boy must 
 have had something to go upon, or he dare not have spoken 
 as he had done. 
 
 This was very bitter to a man who was proud and sen- 
 sitive alike. lie did not wish Nora Stewart to hear from 
 other lips than his own the story of the miserable blight 
 which had fallen on his life. He meant to be honest ; 
 to go to her and say, " I setm a free man, but I am 
 not one ; in my rash youth i hung a chain round my 
 neck which binds me still." He would tell her this, he 
 had told himself a hundred times, and then he would go 
 away and leave the sweet woman who had won his love, 
 and only they two would know why they had parted. 
 
 But to be openly taunted with this abhorred secret was 
 quite another thing. Someone must have betrayed it, 
 Biddulph retiected ; this woman must have broken the 
 bond for which he had paid so heavily, and he was bitterly 
 angry with "'ler for having done so. 
 
 And he was more angry still when he weut up to dress 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 7t 
 
 for dinner, and saw his own reflection in the looking-glass. 
 Under his left eye, which was much swollen, was a huge 
 red mark, which he knew by his boyish experiences would 
 be black in the morning, and green and discolored for 
 many mornings to come. He stared at it ; he bathed it 
 without avail. He had got what is called in common par- 
 lance "a black eye," and the undignified injury filled his 
 soul with rage. 
 
 At last he summoned up resolution to send for his 
 friend Dr. Alexander, who held up his hands and relapsed 
 into his broadest Scotch when his eyes fell on Biddulph's 
 visage. 
 
 " Eh, mon, what's this ? Wha's been putten* their knuck- 
 les too near ve ? " 
 
 "An ass of a boy," answered Biddulph, in a rage, "at- 
 tacked me without the least provocation. But he got a 
 good punishment for his pains." 
 
 " The laddie Malcolm Fraser got home in a sare condi- 
 tion this e'en," said the doctor, dryly, who began to under- 
 stand the situn.tion. 
 
 " Serve him right," said Biddulph, savagely, whose tem- 
 per was not quite what it ought to be ; " he flew at nie like 
 a tiger-cat." 
 
 "Weel, Mr. Biddulph, all I can say is, if he's not im- 
 proved yer appearance, ye've certainly got the best o' it. 
 Malcolm, wi' bruises a. id rage, is in a v(,ry bad strait." 
 
 " And did he tell how it happened ? " .-.ked Biddulph. 
 
 " Na, na. Jock Fraser sent for me, and told me the 
 laddie had had a bad fall and cut his face. But I thought 
 the story a bit lame, and Malcolm seemed sare in mind as 
 well as body." 
 
 "What could have been his motive?" said Biddulph, 
 beginning to walk up and down the room, ilmost forget- 
 ting his black eye. 
 
 " The same as most men's motives, I fancy, Mr. Bid- 
 dulpli ; the laddie has let a pair of bonnie dark eyes turn 
 his head." 
 
 Biddulph bit his lips, and was silent. 
 
 " His mother will be in a sare way about him," continued 
 the doctor. 
 
 " I am sorry for that. I like Mrs. Fraser — she is so 
 straightforward and honest ; but I must say she has brought 
 up her son very badly." 
 
 The doctor shook his head. 
 
 " The mother's na' to blame, Mr. Biddulph. The lad 
 
7* 
 
 A STRANTrE MESSAGE. 
 
 has a fever which must run its course — a fever bad to bear,' 
 and ill to get rid of, and I suppose we've all had it ;" and| 
 the doctor sighed. 
 
 " I suppose you mean he is in love ? " said Biddulph, 
 with a grim smile. 
 
 " Ay ; wi' one who does not care a bawbee for him. I 
 have noticed it coming on a long while now. Poor Mal- 
 colm ! " 
 
 "Well, I wish 'poor Malcolm' had kept his love and his 
 fists to himself, then ! See if you can do anything for me, 
 doctor ; I am not fit to be seen." 
 
 "Weel, ye'U just ha' to bide in the house a day or two. 
 I'll tell my patient across the water yer rheumatics are fear- 
 some ;" and the doctor laughed. 
 
 But Biddulph could not laugh. 
 
 "For heaven's sake," he said, "keep all this a secret 
 from Miss Stewart !" 
 
 "To be sure, to be sure; and ye'U soon be a* right. 
 Poor Malcolm has got something worse than a black eye." 
 
 Yet, when Biddulph saw himself the next morning, he 
 was inclined to tiiink nothing could be worse. He was 
 ashamed for his servants to see him, and noticed the ancient 
 Donald's expression when he waited at breakfast with hid- 
 den indignation, for there was an odd twinkle in the old 
 man's eyes which was doubtless aggravating. 
 
 And scarcely was the meal over, when he sat do\vn to 
 pen an indignant and angry letter to the woman who had 
 spoilt his life. In harsh and biting terms he told her that, 
 as he had paid so heavily to purchase her silence on the 
 subject of the degrading folly of his youth, he would at 
 once reduce her allowance to what it used formerly to 
 be if another whisper of this secret reached his ears. " I 
 know," he added, "you will do anything for money; I 
 advise you, therefore, to keep silent, or you shall certainly 
 lose it." 
 
 And, strange, at the very moment when Biddulph was 
 writing this scathing sentence at Dunbaan, across the 
 loch at Rossmore Mrs. Jock Fraser was talking to Nora 
 Stewart of the very person to whom Biddulph's letter was 
 addressed. 
 
 There is no doubt that Mrs. Jock was not a scandalous 
 nor evil-tongued woman, and she had hitherto shrank from 
 telling Nora her brother-in-law Alick Fraser's news about 
 Mr. Biddulph. But when she returned, the night before, 
 to Rossmore, she had found Nora still in the drawing-room, 
 
 with al 
 
 in herf 
 
 "WI 
 
 " and 
 "Y( 
 svvere( 
 cned. 
 Mrs 
 but s^ 
 nothii 
 a nigl 
 what 
 home 
 be su 
 Th 
 begai 
 "I 
 she s: 
 
A STRANG E MESSAGE. 
 
 73 
 
 with a flush on her handsome face, and a bright, glad light 
 in her dark eyes. 
 
 "Well, my dear," she said, after she had kissed her, 
 " and did Malcolm come ? " 
 
 "Yes; he came when Mr. Biddulpli was here," an- 
 swered Nora ; and the color on her cheeks suddenly deep- 
 ened. 
 
 Mrs. Jock was a shrewd woman, and she saw the blush, 
 but she did not speak without consideration. She said 
 nothing about Mr. Biddulph during the evening, but after 
 a night's reflection she thought it only right to tell Nora 
 what she had heard. Even her good-natured Jock at 
 home had urged her to do this, for Alick Fraser, we may 
 be sure, had carried Sandy Plill's story to Airdlinn. 
 
 Therefore Mrs. Jock, after Nora's breakfast was over, 
 began in her usual honest, downright way. 
 
 " I have got something to say to you, Nora, my dear," 
 she said, approaching the invalid's bed with her stalwart 
 steps. 
 
 "And what have you got to say?" smiled Nora. 
 
 " There is a strange story going the round of the coun- 
 try-side, I am told, about Mr. Biddulph. They say now 
 tiiat he is a married man, and that his wife has been down 
 here and made a tremendous fuss." 
 
 Every particle of color faded from Nora's face as she 
 listened to these words : she grew so pale, in fact, Mrs. 
 Jock thought she was going to faint. 
 
 " It may not be true, of course," said Mrs. Jock. 
 
 *' It's utterly untrue ! " said Nora, lifting her dark eyes 
 indignantly — " invented by people who are jealous of him ; 
 who — who dislike him because he is superior to them 
 all." 
 
 Mrs. Jock drew herself up. 
 
 "The person who told me I do not think could be jeal- 
 ous of him, Nora ; and certainly I do not see that Mr. Bid- 
 dulph ..is any way superior to the other gentlemen about 
 here." 
 
 "I simply do not believe it," began Nora; and then, as 
 the words escaped her lips, with a sharp and sudden pang 
 she remembered the strange message she had received on 
 the evening when Mr. Biddulph was going to dine at Ross- 
 more, and also words of his own which indicated that a 
 i^Iuidow lay athwart his life. 
 
 " We know nothing of him, you know, Nora," continued 
 Mrs. Jock, " therefore why should this story not be true ? 
 
74 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 At all events, it is true that a woman went to Dunbaan, 
 and had a very stormy interview with him, and that he 
 gave her a large sum to go away ; and it is said she called 
 herself his legal wife, and he did not deny it." 
 
 ** And who told all this — the servants ? " 
 
 "That I cannot tell you, but it is known to Jock and 
 Alick, and all the rest ; so I thouglit it but right tu 
 tell you, as you hav^e seen more of him than most of 
 us." 
 
 ** I owe my life to him," said Nora, her eyes filling in 
 her excitement, with sudden tears, " and I shall not listen 
 to nor believe inanvhing against him. He would do 
 nothing, I am ir^ aat was not noble and true; it is 
 written on his i. : .. 
 
 "Well, he has . ii v/r^m partisan in you, at all events, 
 Nora," said Mrs. Jock, tu^iing away and leaving the room 
 on some slight excuse, feeling some satisfaction also that a 
 disagreeable conversation was over. 
 
 And after she was gone, an almost overwhelming rush 
 of emotion swept through Nora's heart. Wliat if this were 
 true ? The thought was like a hot and burning pain. 
 There had often been a look in Biddulph's eyes — a look 
 which had puzzled the woman he loved, and told her by 
 some subtle instinct that he was not happy. Could this 
 dark shadow be the knowledge of some secret and un- 
 welcome chain ? Nora tossed on her bed, and grew 
 so feverish and unhappy that, when the doctor came, 
 his shrewd eyes instantly detected that something was 
 wrong. 
 
 He told her that she must not be carried into the draw- 
 ing-room again to-day ; but Nora insisted upon going. 
 To lie there racked with her doubts and fears would be 
 impossible, she told herself. But she got little comfort 
 for her trouble, for during the afternoon the Rev. Andrew 
 Macdonald was announced, and the good man, after a little 
 preparatory conversation, commenced on the subject just 
 then foremost in his thouarhts. 
 
 A young woman with a good fortune always has many 
 lovers, for money is a universal want, and to get it with- 
 out working for it is highly agreeable to many men. And 
 it is astonishing, also, how many men believe in their own 
 chances to win a fortune by marriage. Here was a rosy, 
 stout, middle-aged person, good-looking enough in his 
 way, but without much manner or mind, yet who had act- 
 ually thought of a beautiful, attractive girl like Leonora 
 
 
 Sicwn 
 hands 
 
 s:uis 
 Bidd 
 
 "I 
 our 
 man. 
 
 No 
 color 
 
 indil 
 
 (( 
 
 has 
 
A STRANGE MJiSSAGE, 
 
 7$ 
 
 Sicwnrt as liis wife. He, too, had been jealous of the 
 liandsome stranger at Diinbaan, and had heard with great 
 s:iiisfaciion llie story that Alick PVascr liad spread about 
 liiildulph. 
 
 "1 licar," he said, not hooking directly at Nora, **that 
 our new neighbor, Mr. liiddulph, is really a married 
 man." 
 
 Nora was conscious that her ordinarily pale complexion 
 colored violently. 
 
 "And have you heard this?" she said, trying to speak 
 indifferently. 
 
 *' 1 am told it is an absolute fact ; and I hear the lady 
 has been here," answered Mr. Macdonald. 
 
 *' I never listen to the gossip of servants," said Nora ; 
 "and Mr. Biddulph is quite able to manage his own affairs 
 without our interference. By the by, Mr. Macdonald, 
 about that poor woman who lost her husband at Airdlinn 
 — I should like to pay for her eldest boy going tc t,. vil- 
 lage school." 
 
 Mr. Macdonald, having been thus recalled to ^ rov dial 
 affairs, shortly afterward took his leave, feeli-,^ v guely 
 that he had not advanced himself in Miss Leono \ Jitew- 
 art's estimation. But he left her with a fresh \\v^ in her 
 heart. There must be something in this, she jegan to 
 think, and the thought was full of bitter pain. 
 
 Slie did not improve as the doctor expected during the 
 next few days, and her general health, for the first time 
 since her accident, suddenly gave way. Dr. Alexander had 
 been as good as his word, and had told her that Mr. Bid- 
 dulph was ill also. But Nora's sensitive ear caught a 
 change in the kindly doctor's tone as he mentioned his pa- 
 tient at Dunbaan. The truth was, tlie doctor had heard also 
 that Biddulph was a married man, and guessed pretty close- 
 ly why young Malcolm Fraser had attacked him. The doc- 
 tor personally liked Biddulph, and the story made him very 
 sad. 
 
 And during the next few days, Biddulph, who was still 
 asliamed to show his face, received two letters — one was 
 from the fiery, jealous young Highlander who had disfig- 
 ured him ; and the other from the woman who had caused, 
 as he bitterly told himself, all the troubles of his life. 
 
 Malcolm Fraser wrote thus : 
 
 " Sir : After what has passed between us, I demand, as 
 my right, that you appoint a time when we can have a hos- 
 
76 
 
 A STNAXGE MESSAGE, 
 
 tile meeting in France, as the absurd laws of this country 
 foibid a UKiu to avenge his own honor. 
 
 " Malcolm. Fraser.'* 
 
 To this Biddulph replied : 
 
 " Sir : I decline to stain my hands with your young 
 blood, or allow you to commit murder. You interfered 
 where yov; had no right to interfere, and you must take the 
 consequences. James Biddulph." 
 
 But it was the other letter, the letter from the woman, 
 that tilled Biddulph's heart with the bitterest rage. 
 
 " Drak James (she wrote) : 
 
 "You see I always adihess you in a proper and wife- 
 like manner, in spite of your little shortcomings as ;i 
 husband. But to return to the point. I got your letter, 
 and when you receive this I shall be on my way to Scot- 
 land, as I want to find out who has been playing me false. 
 It is quite true that I think more of money, at least from 
 you, than anything else, and I am not going to risk it for 
 the honor of being called by your name. We must make a 
 fresh bargain. 1 shall put up at my old quarters at the 
 village of Balla. Send a line to me there to tell me when 
 it will be convenient to you to see me at Dunbaan. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Natalie.'* 
 
 CHAPTER Xir. 
 
 IN THE GLEN. 
 
 A fierce storm of passion swept over Biddulph's heart 
 after he had read this letter. He knew this woman's dar- 
 ing, defiant nature too well not to believe she would do as 
 she had written. S)^e was on her way, then, once more to 
 disgrace him - to brmg scorn and scoffs upon his name. 
 Willi bitten lips and uuittered cui-ses he looked at the date 
 of her letter, and saw, as he did so, that Natalie (Madame 
 de Beranger, as she called herself) would probably at this 
 monient be in the little village of Balla, naturally excitinj^ 
 gossip and conunent there. 
 
 And his anticipations were fully verified. Before the 
 
A STRANGE MF.SSACC. 
 
 77 
 
 evening was over an c.spcci;\l mcssenqfcr from the small 
 hostelry at Halla arrived at Diinbaan, anri a letter was hand- 
 ed to Biddulph, the handwriting of which lie knew only 
 too well. 
 
 " Dear James " (he read with suppressed fury) : *' Here I 
 am again. Send an answer with the unkempt bearer of my 
 love-letler when it will please you to see your bcioved wife 
 once more at Dunbaan. Do not be long in deciding, for 
 your climate is killing. Yours ever, Natalie." 
 
 First Biddulph flung tliis letter on the floor, and swore 
 he would neither answer it nor see the writer, liutaftera 
 while wiser and more prudent thoughts prevailed. As she 
 was here, lie was convinced she would not sfo awav aofain 
 unless she was bribed to do so. With intense disgust in 
 his heart, therefore, he sat down to appoint an interview. 
 But not here. Some listener, he knew well, some spy in 
 his hoMsehold, must have spread the story of this unhappy 
 connection in the neighborhood, or how had that wretclied 
 boy heard of the report ? 
 
 And he too (for he was observing) had noticed a change 
 in tiie kind Scotch doctor's manner — a change in the tone 
 of his voice only, perhaps — and how he had become sud- 
 denly reticent on the subject of Miss Stewart, of Rossmore. 
 
 And he guessed aright. Jock Fraser and Mrs. Jock had 
 both talked to tlieir friend the doctor about Mr. Biddulph's 
 supposed marriage, and young Malcolm's brow was black 
 as night whenever his name was mentioned. 
 
 *' It's an unco' pity if it is so," the doctor had answered, 
 "for lie's a vera fine fellow." But even the doctor was 
 forced to admit that no man is justified in passing himself 
 off as unmarried, if he already possessed a wife. 
 
 " And there is no doubt he pays great attention to Nora 
 Stewart," said Mrs. Jock, **and she will hear nothing 
 against him." 
 
 ** Well, my dear," replied Jock, philosophicall}^ '* Nora 
 Stewart may know more about this story than we do ; Bid- 
 dulph may have told her himself. My advice, now, is to 
 leave the matter alone. Nora is not a girl to make a fool 
 of lierself with a married man." 
 
 When "the French woman," therefore, as they called her, 
 returned to the village inn at Balla, her reappearance there 
 excited the greatest interest among the gossips of the 
 neighborhood. The doctor had already lieard that " Mr. 
 
7« 
 
 A S'rKA.VGF. MFSSACE. 
 
 Biddulpli's wife" was "back again," when Dlddulph him- 
 self by her own letter became aware of the fact. At last, 
 pale and frowning, he wrote a few words in reply. 
 
 " Do not, T entreat yon, come here. I will meet yo»r to- 
 morrow afternoon in a secluded spot among tlie hills close 
 to Balla, called the Glen, to which any one in the neigh- 
 borhood can direct y«nj. If you go there at three o'clock 
 alone, I shall be waiting for you. J. li." 
 
 He despatched this note, and then stood looking 
 gloomily out on the dark waters of the loch. His 
 thoughts were very bitter ones, for it seemed to iiim this 
 endless worry of his life would never cease. Then he 
 tried to raise his mind above the brief joys and sorrows 
 of the world, telling himself as he lifted his eyes from the 
 dark waters to the dark sky, that in a little while it would 
 be all the same, disappointment or success, blame or 
 praise — the woman he loved and the woman he hated, both 
 be as dim shadows wher the end drew near. 
 
 But with a restless sigh Biddulph knew that now this 
 was not so. It needs, in truth, the chill touch of age to 
 make a true philoscjpher. Through Biddulph's being tlie 
 warm currents of youtli still ran strong and vigorous, and 
 Nora Stewart's sweet face rose before him at this moment, 
 filling his heart with passionate regret. 
 
 The next day he went to keep the appointment he had 
 made with absolute aversion. To see this woman again, 
 to be asked for more money by her scoffing tongue, was 
 gall and bitterness to Biddulph's soul. Vet he must do 
 it, and so he went, crossing the loch on a gray and dark- 
 some October afternoon, in a mood as gloomy as the 
 sky. 
 
 The Glen of Balla is one of the wildest and most romantic 
 spots of this romantic land. It is, in truth, a mountain-pass, 
 on either side of which the granite masses rear their shaggy 
 crests amid the waving birchwood and the dark pines. 
 A narrow pathway runs the whole length of the glen, and 
 here, even amid the summer heat, the sunbeams seldom 
 find their way, so dense is the shadow cast by the tower- 
 ing peaks and huge crags which block the golden rays. 
 
 Biddulph had chosen this silent and secluded spot be- 
 cause he wished, if possible, no one to witness a meeting 
 fraught for him with bitterest pain. And at this season 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 79 
 
 the prohjihility was that, unless sf)inc pnssinp^ tourist was 
 straying amid the (lamp, nioss-giit rocks, only the wild 
 g:unc would fix their bright inquiring eyes on the two 
 wlujse love had grown so cold. 
 
 And as Biddulph walked along the narrow way, this 
 expectation seemed fulfilled. Not a sound was to be 
 li(;ard, and he went to the extreme end of the glen with- 
 out encountering a living thing. •* Was she going to play 
 him false ?" he thought, angrily, glancing at his watcii, 
 as he turned to retrace his steps. It was half-pasi three 
 o'clock now ; but then, she might have missed her *vay, lie 
 presently reflected. 
 
 A moment he stood still, looking upward at the narrow 
 line of gray sky overhead, visible between the steep crags. 
 He sighed impatiently, and some of the vague question- 
 ing doubts which pass and repass througli our minds 
 when the shadows lie athwart our path of life, and 
 the web seems tangled or broken, stole into Biddulph's 
 heart. 
 
 " Why should this be ?" he thought, moodily ; as we all, 
 perhaps, have thought when some heavy blow falls, and 
 its weight seems too great to bear. He felt oppressed 
 and downcast ; the dark, frowning mountain's side, the 
 gloomy heavens, the murky air, and, maybe, the strange 
 warning instinct that tells the birds of the approaching 
 storm, alike seemed to fdl Biddulph's mind at this moment 
 with a strong sense of impending ill. 
 
 And suddenly, sharp and distinct, as lie stood, there 
 sounded in his ears the crack of a rifle, and a swift 
 messenger of death passed him, grazing his shoulder, and 
 went on. He started, turned, and the next instant a wild 
 shriek, a scream of terror and fear, seemed to rend the 
 air. 
 
 "What is it? "cried Biddulph loudly; and his voice 
 echoed through the glen. 
 
 Another shriek, prolonged and agonized, was the reply 
 — a woTian's shriek. And Biddulph, quickly recovering 
 himself, now ran forward. 
 
 A jutti'ig block of granite in front, near the spot where 
 he had been standing when the shot passed him, here 
 partly hid the pathway behind it ; but in a momt^nr Bid- 
 dulph had passed this obstruction, and on tho other side 
 of it a woman was half kneeling, waving h;;r arms fran- 
 tically, and, as Biddulph approached her, jhe rose an i 
 came tottering forward, and he saw who it was! 
 
So 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 " Wretch, wretch, you have murdered me ! " she cried 
 in gasps, and then again fell forward, the blood gushing in 
 torrents from her side. 
 
 " I swear I liave mH I " said Biddulph, running toward 
 lier, and lifting her in his arms. 
 
 Tlie wonian^s face was ghastly — the face of Natalie^an^. 
 lier breast was heaving in the throes of death. 
 
 " Wiio has done tiiis?" asked Biddulph, bending over 
 her, and trying to stanch the red tide. 
 
 She tried to speak, her dark eyes rolled in her head, 
 each breath grew a sob, but no words came from her 
 white lips. Then siie Hung back her head, her arms fell 
 down, a shiver passed through her frame, and she died — 
 died on Biddulph's breast, the woman he liad wedded long 
 
 a<j:o. 
 
 in<^xpressibly shocked and horror-stricken, he laid her 
 gently down on tiie sward, and, leaving her for a moment, 
 hurried to a little gusliing streainlcr, amid tiie rocks, and, 
 having filled his cap with water, returned to her side. 
 But as he knelt tlown he saw it was no use. Death had 
 laid its tjrav, rii»id finsTfcr on the once familiar features, 
 and the strano:e c!ianu:e had come which marks the scjul- 
 less clay. lie rose ; he stood gazing at her, and his 
 memory went back to his boyish love, and the long years 
 of annoyance and shame it had brought upon his head. 
 And tills was the end ! A stray shot (for he saw in a 
 UKMnent what had killed her), the ritle-ball which had just 
 misseci him — whicli had, indeed, grazed and slightly 
 wounded his shoulder, though, in the excitement, he 
 never felt the i)ain — had pierced her side, and probably 
 touched her heart, as her death had occurred a few 
 moments after she was wounded. 
 
 As he stood looking at her, the idea darted into 
 Biddulph's mind that the man wlio had fired the fatal 
 shot would probably be near, and he therefore com- 
 menced shouting loudly for assistance. But no answer 
 came except the echo of his own voice ringing among the 
 crags. Then for the first time it occurred to Biddulph 
 the position lie was in. A dead woman lay at his feet— a 
 woman he had asked to meet him in this lonely spot, and 
 it behooved him, therefore, at once to call witnesses to 
 prove his innocence of her tragic end. 
 
 He remembered the doctor, and no sooner had this 
 thought struck him than he acted on it. One backward 
 glance he gave, half in pity, at the dead Natalie, and then, 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 8i 
 
 as fast as he could go, be hurried out of the glen on to the 
 straugling village of Ball a. 
 
 As lie ran panting up the steep hill that leads from the 
 glen to the village, he perceived the doctor himself, start- 
 ing on his usual alternoon round, mounted on his shaggy 
 Highhaid pony. 
 
 lie waved his cap to attract his attention, and called, 
 and the doctor looked roMud and saw him — saw a blood- 
 stained figure, for Biddulph's own slight wound was now 
 bleeding fast, and Natalie had died in his arms. 
 
 "Mr. Biddulph ! " cried the doctor, in the utmost aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 ''An accident has happened in the glen !" panted Bid- 
 dulph. "A woman is lying there shot — I believe, dead. 
 Come at once, doctor, though I fear there is no hope." 
 
 "A woman ?" repeated the doctor; and his expression 
 changed. 
 
 "Yes, a woman. A ball whistled past me, just touched 
 my shoulder as it w'ent ; " and he put his hand to his 
 shoulder as he spoke, and for the first time perceived ho 
 was wounded, for his coat was torn, and the blood trick- 
 ling down the sleeve. 
 
 The doctor by this time had dismounted from his pony, 
 and, approaching Biddulph, proceeded to examine his in- 
 jury. 
 
 It was a slight flesh-wound, the rifle ball having torn 
 the coat and the skin as it passed on its fatal errand ; and 
 the doctor, having looked at it, was about to commence 
 stanching the blood, when Biddulph stopped him. 
 
 "Don't mind me," he said, "it is nothing ; but the 
 woman, I fear, is fatally hit." 
 
 "I'll tie my handkerchief round it, anyhow," answered 
 the doctor, producing a large red haudl;erchief from his 
 pocket. '' It's a nesr shave ; why, mon, another inch, and 
 your shoulder-bane had been in splinters." 
 
 "Make haste, make haste," said Biddulph, impatiently ; 
 and the doctor, having hastily bound the wound, followed 
 Biddulph into the Glen, and in a few minutes they came 
 to the spot where the dead woman lay on the ground. 
 
 The doctor knelt down, lifted her hand, looked at her 
 white face, and his own weather-beaten countenance grew 
 very pale as he did so. 
 
 Then he slowly raised his eyes and looked at Biddulph. 
 
 "Mr. Biddulph," he said, almost sternly, " is this mur- 
 der ? " 
 
83 
 
 A STKANCE MESSAGE. 
 
 " If you mean," answered Biddulpli, indignantly, a sud- 
 den flusli dyeing liis face at the mere suspicion that the 
 doctor's words implied, "did I raise my hand against her 
 life, I certainly did not." 
 
 *• Yet this is the leedy, is it not, that they said " 
 
 " Tiiis lady was i<novvn to me," interrupted Biddulpli, 
 haughtily ; "and I asked her to meet me here to arrange 
 some business pending between us, rather than create 
 more gossip by seeing her at Dunbaan. I was waiting for 
 her ; we had not met when the shot passed me that grazed 
 my shoulder, and, I believe, killed her, for a moment later 
 her death-shrieks filled the air." 
 
 The doctor listened, rose from his knees, and grasped 
 Biddulph's liand. 
 
 "God be thanked !" he said ; **and Ilis chief mercy is, 
 the ball scratched ye a bit as it passed. The world is full 
 of evil tongues, Mr. Biddulpli, but a mon can't vera weel 
 shoot himself in the back, and, therefore, what can they 
 say ? Ay, poor soul," he added, looking down again at the 
 rigid face lying on the ground, "she's been shot by mis- 
 take, na doubt, by one of Alick Fraser's new keepers ; but 
 vvc must find the loon." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BIDDUI.PIiS STORY. 
 
 Half an hour later the poor lifeless form was carried 
 into the liitle village of Balla, and Biddulph noticed 
 that people hjoked at him with lowering glances, and 
 shrank away from him, as he followed the bearers of the 
 deail. 
 
 Hut the doctor walked manfully by his side, and osten- 
 tatiously took him into his surgery to dress his wounds. 
 
 '•It's a vera bad business,"^)ie' said to one of the by- 
 standers, " but it might ha' been worse, for the same shot 
 that killed the leedy just missed killing Mr. Biddulph as 
 weel." 
 
 riie man he acKlresscd, with characteristic Scotch cau- 
 tion, made no reply, lie \va.^ the keeper of the little hos- 
 telry where the dead woman had l(.dged, and where only 
 the night before she had boasted, under the intluence ot 
 repeated glasses of whiskey, that she could make Mr. Bid- 
 
A STRANG I'l MESSAGE. 
 
 8.^ 
 
 diilph of Dunbaan give her any amount of money she 
 chose to ask him for. 
 
 And now she lay cold and stark, with a bullet in her 
 breast, after meeting this same Mr. Bidduiph in the Glen. 
 It had an ugly look, at all events, the Highland innkeeper 
 rcllected ; and his thoughts were shared by the weird old 
 women who crept out of their smoke-filled cabins to see 
 the "dead leedy " carried past. Almost the whole of the 
 inhabitants of the village, indeed, turned out to see the 
 s:id sight. The doctor had decently covered her face, but 
 the blood-stains on her gown and cloak were only too 
 visible. And now the question arose, where was she to be 
 taken ? 
 
 The innkeeper objected to receive the dead body, on the 
 score of his custojners' feelings. But the doctor, with his 
 larger intelligence, was ready to take it under his roof- 
 tree. 
 
 *' Ah, poor soul, she'll na hurt ye," lie said ; and he bade 
 the men carry the dead woman into his house, and lay her 
 in the best parlor. 
 
 '*The kitchen will serve me weel enough on a pinch," 
 lie remarked. " Now, come along, Mr. Bidduiph ; I must 
 iia' a look at yer shoulder," 
 
 When he was dressing it, Biddulpli, who was very pale, 
 said, with some agitation of manner : 
 
 " I believe they think I shot tiie poor woman, doctor. I 
 shall offer a reward of two hundred pounds to discover tiie 
 man who did." 
 
 The doctor did not speak for a moment ; then he said 
 slowly : 
 
 " Ye are a rich man, are ye not, Mr. Bidduiph ?" 
 
 ''At least, I am not a poor one." 
 
 "Then offer three hundred ; it's worth the money to 
 clear yer name of a foul stain." 
 
 " V^ery well ; I offer three hundred, then ; and — let 
 everything be done decently and well." 
 
 "Ve mean about the burial ? Ay, ay ; but that won't 
 be yet. The poor creature's death will ha' to be inquired 
 into, and the evidence taken. But don't fash about it to- 
 night ; ha' some whiskey, and then I'll walk down to the 
 loch wi' ye, and see ye again in the morn ; and I'll tell the 
 folks round about the rewaid." 
 
 Tile doctor was as good as his word, and Bidduiph was 
 l^resently rowed across the misty loch in a state of strange 
 and mixed emotion. He could scarcely, indeed, realize 
 
 * 
 
 *: 
 
84 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 the great change that had come to his life during the last 
 two hours. Me was a free man now, and yet something in 
 his heart — the dead woman's last awful looks and dying 
 cries — forbade liim to rejoice. And tlie knowledge, too, 
 that the circumstances of lier death might cast a suspicion 
 on himself was not an agreeable reflection. 
 
 "But it is impossible that anyone could really believe 
 this," he consoled himself by thinking, at the very mo- 
 ment when half the neighbors at least were saying what a 
 dreadful thing it was about Mr. Biddulpli shooting his 
 wife ! 
 
 One of the first to say this was Alick Fraser. Riding 
 liome through Balla, he hoard the story from tlie inn- 
 keeper, and, after considering a minute or two, turned his 
 horse's head and rode straight to Rossmore. Me felt some 
 satisfaction in the idea that he should be the person to 
 tell Nora Stewart the dreadful news. 
 
 " I wonder what slie will say now ?" he grimly leflected, 
 as he proceeded up the steep avenue ; and he was pleased 
 also when he was admitted and ushered into th^ drawing- 
 room, where he found Nora alone. 
 
 He had never seen her since the day of the ac "'dent on 
 the hills, and, looking at her now witli his keen brown 
 eyes, he noticed a change in the expression of !ier face — a 
 subtle sadness, a weariness, which was not t!»e:e before. 
 
 He went up to iier couch and shook iiard . with her 
 warmly, telling her liow pleased he was to see r again. 
 
 "I've heard from Jeanie constantly juour. you, you 
 know, but I did not like to intrude until I thciught you 
 were really well enough to ?*"• me. Well, the hero of that 
 day when you sprained ycjur foot is likely to come to a 
 fine end." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" asked Nora, with whitening lips. 
 " Von have not iieard the last sensation in the neighbor- 
 hood, then ? " went on Alick, with hard relish, wlien a 
 softer-hearted man would have shrank from inflicting, 
 pain. *• Biddulpli shot his wife tliis afternoon in the Glen, 
 and is as likely as not to be tried for murder, as the police 
 have been communicated with." 
 
 Nora did not speak ; she tried to utter some common- 
 place words, but her voice was dumb. 
 
 '^ I rever liked the fellow; 1 don't know how it was," 
 proceeded Alick, still enjoying the situation. *' An honest 
 i-naii has no right Uj pass liimself off as unmarried to young 
 ladies vviitn lie has already a wife ;" and he smiled. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 H 
 
 ■»ng the last 
 
 umething in 
 
 and djing 
 
 vvledge, too^ 
 
 a suspicion 
 
 ally believe 
 
 ' very nio- 
 
 ^'ing what a 
 
 ooting his 
 
 cr 
 
 r. Ridin 
 11 th.e inn- 
 tnrned his 
 e felt some 
 person to 
 
 yieflected, 
 'as pleased 
 »" drawino-. 
 
 c Ident on 
 i'-Ji brown 
 er face — a 
 3 before. 
 
 with her 
 
 i" again. 
 
 you, you 
 
 Light you 
 
 ''t> of that 
 
 ome to a 
 
 "higlips. 
 leighbor- 
 when a 
 n flic ting, 
 he Gleri, 
 le police 
 
 ommon- 
 
 it was," 
 honest 
 > young 
 J. 
 
 "And did he do this ? " asked Nora, in a strange, altered 
 voice. 
 
 *' So I understood. Why, Jeanic told me you would not 
 believe he was married, Miss Nora ; but he was, sure 
 enough." 
 
 "Nor do I believe,'* said Nora, lifting her head and fix- 
 ing iier daik eyes on Alick Eraser's face, h'^r voice broken 
 and vibrating with emotion, " that he would wilfully lift 
 his hand to injure any woman. I believe this story is 
 false : that it is invented by people who hate him." 
 
 "Well, young lady, if that is your opinion, I think you 
 will find yourself mistaken," said Alick, disagreeably. 
 " But, as this tragedy happened on my property, I must 
 be off to look into it. I know the sheriff very well. Mr. 
 liiddulph shall find to his cost that he cannot indulge in 
 any little private shooting matches in Scotland." 
 
 He approached her, and would have taken her hand in 
 his strong grasp, but Nora's cold fingers scarcely touched 
 his own. And hardly was he gone, when a sudden reso- 
 lution came into her mind. She would warn Biddulph 
 of his danger ; she would, woman-like, have him do what, 
 under the circumstances, would be the most foolish thing 
 possible. 
 
 She stretched out her hand and rang a small hand-bell 
 that stood on a table near her ; and when her young foot 
 man, Alfred, replied to her summons, she desired him V^ 
 tell her maid to come to her. 
 
 A minute or two later a smart, black-eyed girl made hev 
 appearance, and Nora beckoned her to her side. 
 
 "Palmer," she said, speaking quickly and nervously, 
 "would you be afraid to let Alfred rnvv you across t!'^:; 
 loch ? " 
 
 "This evening, miss ?" asked Palmer, in srprise. 
 
 "Yes, now. 1 am going to trust you; I ily want Al- 
 fred to know. 1 — I — want a letter takt- quickly and 
 (jnictly to Mr. Bidclul[)h, at Dunbaan." 
 
 Palmer cast down her black eyes for a moment conteni- 
 plativclv. In tiic servants' hall already the subject had 
 been discussed (.'f Mr. Biddulph's suppo -d crime. 
 
 " I will do anything y ai wish, tniss,'" she said, the next 
 instant; "and Alfred will do anything I ask him, she 
 added, with a smile. "They have been talking down- 
 stairs " 
 
 " Never mind what they have been talking about," inter- 
 rupted Nora, hastily. " Crct on your hat r > quickly as you 
 
 m 
 
S6 
 
 A STI^ANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 can, and tell Alfred to go down to the loch at once and 
 have the boat re;.'ly for yon. Don't tell anyone where you 
 are going ; say I am sending yon witii a message, if yoti 
 are asked. And reach me my wriiing-case ; my letter will 
 be ready in two minutes, and I want you to place it in Mr. 
 Biddiilph's own hands." 
 
 "I'll be ready directly, miss," said Palmer ; and so she 
 was, and with a trembling hand Nora gave her the few 
 words she had written. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Biddulph : I wish to see you at once, so will 
 you return across the ' jch with the bearers of this note ? 
 Do please -^ome, ^r^ ■. iS is most important. Very sincerely 
 yours, Leonora Stewart." 
 
 After she had despatched this, Nora sat counting the 
 minutes by the clock on the mantle-piece with a fast- 
 beating heart. He would have time to r^^o away, she 
 thought, before any official inquiry about this woman's 
 death could be made. Not that she believed the story 
 — it was some invention or mistake ; still, he had better 
 know, had better hear, what Alick Fraser had said. And 
 he would come — yes, she felt sure lie would come, Nora 
 thought, with a flush on her cheeks, and a deep nervous 
 excitr'.nent in her heart. 
 
 And she was rij;ht. Biddulph was sitting thinking 
 gloGjnily enough at Dunbaan, when he was told a young 
 woman iiad brought a letter for him, and had been ordered 
 to deliver it into liis own hand.^i. He looked up as old 
 Donald gave him this information, and, thinking it was 
 probably from Dr. Alexander, he desired the young 
 woman to \tc shown into the room. 
 
 And presently che black-eyed, sprightly Palmer ap- 
 nea red. 
 
 "Miss Stewart desired me to give you this, Mr. Bid- 
 dulph," she said, with a smile ; for 'Mr. Biddulph was 
 very good-looking. Palmer was reflecting, even if he had 
 murdered his wife. 
 
 Then Biddulph read the letter, and a flush stole to his 
 pale face as he did so. 
 
 "Miss Stewart wishes to see me," he said, now speak- 
 ing to Palmer. " Is there room in your boat for me to 
 crosj with you ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes ! " answered Palmer with decision ; " Alfred 
 is VQry slight—he can sit anywhere." 
 
A STI^AXGJi MESSAGE, 
 
 87 
 
 t once and 
 
 ■ uliercyon 
 '\i?c, if you 
 Kit-'ttcr 'will 
 ce it in Mr. 
 
 and so she 
 ler the few 
 
 'fice, so will 
 tiiis note ? 
 y sincerely 
 
 EWART." 
 
 lilting the 
 itfi a fast- 
 «iway, siie 
 Woman's 
 ^ the story 
 lad better 
 lid. And 
 J'lie, Nora 
 J nervous 
 
 cr 
 
 thinkin 
 a youn<^ 
 n ordered 
 ip as old 
 is: it was 
 le young- 
 
 liner ap- 
 
 Mr. Bid- 
 
 'ph was 
 
 he had 
 
 e to his 
 
 ^ speak- 
 )r me to 
 
 ' Alfred 
 
 Palmer was generally supposed to be engaged to Alfred, 
 but she always spoke of him rather disparagingly, though 
 he was really a very good-looking young man. 
 
 " Well, that is settled, then," said Biddulph, with a 
 smile. "I shall be ready in one moment." 
 
 And half an hour later lie was standing in the presence 
 of Nora Stewart — standing pale and deeply moved, with 
 his gray eyes, full of emotion, fixed upon her changing 
 face. 
 
 "You sent for me ?" he said, as their hands clasped. 
 
 *• Yes, because — because " 
 
 " Because," went on Biddulph, as Nora hesitated, 
 unable to find words, " you have heard what happened 
 this afternoon ? You have sent for me because you at 
 least do not believe I would commit murder ? Is this so ?" 
 
 " I have sent for you to warn you," answered Nora, 
 with trembling lips. " I kncjw nothing of this story : I 
 trust you — that is enough. 1 do not and will not believe 
 you would wilfully hurt anyone ; but — but if an accident 
 happened " 
 
 •' An accident happened and a woman died, Miss 
 Stewart, but not by my hand. You have heard some- 
 thing of this story, I dare sav ; shall I tell you the whole 
 of \il " 
 
 " If you will ; if it will not pain you." 
 
 " It will pain me, for it has been all shame and pain 
 from the beginning until now. Since — since you have 
 honored me with your friendship, it has often trembled 
 on my lips. ' But I naturally shrank from telling such a 
 tale to you. I shrink now, yet it is better you should 
 hear." 
 
 " I am ready to listen, Mr. Biddulph." 
 
 Biddulph did not speak for a moment. He began 
 walking slowly up and down the room, his eyes fixed be- 
 fore him, with a far-away expression on his face. 
 
 " It is a long time to go back to," he said at length. '* I 
 was a boy of nineteen, a lad at college, when the tragedy 
 that ended to-day began. I was at Cambridge at this 
 time, and an accident happened there on the river one day 
 — a foolish young fellow was nearly drowned. But I need 
 not trouble you with this story ; it is sutficient to tell you 
 I got a chill and a fever, and went home first, and was 
 then sent by my father (my mother was dead) to Calais, 
 for a change. 
 
 '* I went to a boarding-hoiise there — I knew ?i')tliino of 
 
88 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 the world— and this house was kept by a certain Madame 
 Bcianjier and her daughter iV<^A///V. 1 see the old vyonuui 
 still," ' went on Biddulph, with a break in his voice, as 
 if making an effort to speak calmly; " ! see her with her 
 shrewd dark eyes, her dusky skin, and her dyed hair \ 
 And Natalie, she was then about twenty-nine, ten years 
 oldtrr than 1 was, a woman, bright, gay, and I, in my 
 boyish ftdly, thought handsome. But she was not hand- 
 some ; she was flattering, amusing, and clever, and she 
 
 1(1 bright, dark eyes, and I believed I was in love with 
 
 r 1 suppose I believed so — at least we were lovers 
 
 .ind by and by they told me I must marry her — that a 
 child was about to be born. 
 
 " iMiss Stewart, I did marry her; I thought in honor 
 I could do nothing else, and then I discovered it was 
 all a lie. There was no child about to be born. Natalie 
 and lier mother had deceived me, iind both now laughed 
 in my fate. At least Natalie did ; the old woman had 
 more prudence, but the young one had none. 
 
 '*Hut they had secured me, the only son of a rich 
 English lawyer, and they cared for nothing else. It was 
 not until I told them that I had no money of my own — 
 that I was certain that if my father knew of my mad act 
 he would cut me off with a shilling, that they began to 
 doubt whether they had done a good thing for themselves 
 or not. 
 
 '* The marriage was kept a secret, because they feared 
 if it were known that I should lose my fortune. It is 
 twelv years since now, and it has hung like a rope round 
 my neck ever since. I returned to England, I went back 
 to college, but you can understand with little heart. My 
 life, in fact, was spoilt, and as years went on this tie 
 became to me more and more burdensome. It grew, in- 
 deed, utterly loatiisome, and I never saw the woman I 
 was ashamed to think of as my wife. I passed at the Bar, 
 but did not care to practise ; any name I might have won 
 I knew was already blackened for me, and I did not wish 
 for success, which might only serve to drag to light this 
 disgraceful storv. 
 
 " My father allowed me an income of eight hundred a 
 year, and this I always shared equally with Natalie. 
 The money was sent regularly through my lawyer, and I 
 never saw nor heard from her for years. Then my uncle 
 died, and I succeeded to the property at Dunbaan, and to 
 a t:onsiderahlc sum o{ ready money. I came down to 
 
A STR.A.\'C/C MESSAGE. 
 
 89 
 
 y feared 
 e. It is 
 e round 
 'nt back 
 •t. xMy 
 t)us tie 
 if'vv, in- 
 ^nian I 
 lie Har, 
 ve won 
 ot wish 
 lit this 
 
 Scotland, as you know, and I especially desired my lawyer 
 to keep my accession of fortune a secret, and I have every 
 reason to believe that he did so. Yet one day, Miss Stew- 
 art, about two months after I made your acquaintance, 
 one morning, after I had dined the evening before at your 
 house, I found freshly carved on the trunk of a tree in the 
 avenue at Dunbnan, this woman's name. I was over- 
 whelmed, maddened ; and a few days later she appeared 
 at my house, and told me what she liad come for. She 
 wanted her income doubled, and two thousand pounds. 
 She had found out I had been left money, and she had be- 
 come a notorious gambler. I gave her what she wanted 
 on one condition— she was to go away, and not to utter a 
 single word of the tic between us. 
 
 "But here let me do myself justice. Miss Stewart, you 
 arc the one friend whom I have made liere, and to you I 
 meant to confide my secret. I meant to tell you, or at 
 least partly to tell you, that day of the picnic on the hills. 
 Ihit you know how that ended ; then your illness inter- 
 fered, and the last time I saw you — the time when young 
 Malcolm Phraser came in whilj I »vas here— to my surprise, 
 on leaving, I found him waiting fcr me in the avenue, and 
 in insulting language he requested me to cease my ac- 
 quaintance with you, his cousin, as I was a married man.'* 
 
 " What ! " said Nora, a burning blush spreading over her 
 face ; **did Malcolm dare to do this?" 
 
 " He dared to do this and more. Me absolutely struck 
 me, but he G:ot the w(jrst of that." 
 
 '* I am asliamed, utterly ashamed of him, Mr. Biddulph. 
 lie is a mad, stupid boy." 
 
 " But this mad, stupid boy's folly told me one thing, that 
 Natalie had broken her promise, and I wrote and told her 
 so — told her I would reduce her income to its former 
 amount if this went on, and to my great anger she an- 
 swered this letter in person. Miss Stewart, do you now 
 begin to understand ? This unhappy woman came down 
 here, and wrote to ask me when I could see her at Dun- 
 baan ; and, to save further scandal I asked her to meet me 
 in the Glen at Balla, where I hoped our meeting would be 
 unseen." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Biddulph ! " cried Nora, bending forward with 
 parted lips and clasped hands. 
 
 " I went this afternoon," continued Biddulph, with some 
 emotion—" went with a bitter and angry heart, and waited 
 in Miis lonely, silent place ; and as I stood waiting— Mis^ 
 
A STh'WCr MFSSAGF. 
 
 Stewart, T swear to God I am speakinc: the truth— a ball 
 whistled past me, grazed my shoulder and tore my coat. 
 and the next moment Natalie's death-shrieks filled the aii. 
 
 '♦I ran forward ; I met her terrified, dyiii*;. She died in 
 my arms. Siie thought 1 had murdered her. It was a 
 ghasrly scene; but my hand is guiltless of her blood. 
 You believe this? Do not look so pale ; tell me that you 
 believe mc innocent of a hideous crime ?" 
 
 "I do, I do!" said Nora, with a sort of sob, stretchin<r 
 out her hand, which Hiddulph took. '* Hut oh, Mr. Hid- 
 dulph, I am afraid— afraid for you." 
 
 •'You mean that 1 shall probably be accused of her 
 murder? This, I think, can hardly be. I went to the 
 (lien totally uidiarmed. I walked openly through the vil- 
 lage of Balla, and my boatmen rowed me across; and this 
 poor woman was shot with a rille, and the ball struck, or 
 rather grazed, my shoidder first." 
 
 "Stifl, Mick P'raser said " 
 
 "What has Mr. Alick Fraser said?" asked Biddulph, 
 with a sort of smile. ** Do you remember our coiivcrsation 
 not long ago about instinct, and I told you Mr. Alick Fra- 
 ser was my enemy ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Nora, almost with a shudder. 
 
 "And, strange," continued IJiddulpli, " I felt, as I stood 
 waiting for poor Natalie, as if something were about to 
 happen — as if a dark liour in my fate had come " 
 
 "Go away, Mr. Biddulph," saiil Nora, eagerly ; "this is 
 why I sent for you. Alick F'raser said the police had been 
 communicated with. Go, before ttiey have time to do 
 anything." 
 
 " And leave them to blacken my name," answered Bid- 
 dulph, with some pride. '* No ; I am innocent. I am not 
 going to run away, which would be verv unwise, you know, 
 as I should be certainly caught ;" and Biddulph smiled. 
 
 But Nora did not smile ; her dark eyes were fixed on his 
 face full of anxiety. 
 
 '• It is more than good of you," continued Biddulph, "to 
 interest yourself in my fate, and I dare not trust myself to 
 speak of my gratitude ; but when this dark cloud is blown 
 over, may 1 come and talk to you again ?" 
 
 " Do not wait until the dark cloud is blown over ; come 
 to-morrow — any day. We are friends, and true friends are 
 the same to each other in tne sunshine and the storm. 
 Perhaps you are right to stay and face it ; and — and what 
 ran thev reallv sav ?" 
 
A STRAXCF. AFESSiCE. 
 
 9t 
 
 " Probably .1 (rood many things ; but now you know the 
 //•/////, and you still call me your friend ? " 
 
 " Ves, and I am not one to change." 
 
 Riddulph bent down and kissed lirst one of her trem- 
 bling hands, and then Liic other. 
 
 " I have something, then, to carry away with me to my 
 lonely home," he said ; and before Nora could answer him 
 he was gone. • 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A SUSPECT EO MAN. 
 
 AHck Fraspr '""s a man who often boasted that he 
 •'never let . . i^.ass grow under his feet ;" he certainly 
 never neglected an opportunity of pushing forward any 
 business he had in hand. And as he rode from Rossmore, 
 after his interview with Nora, there was a keen sense of 
 anger in his iieart, and an eager desire to revenge himself 
 iipon Biddulph, who, he considered, had unjustifiably stood 
 ill his way. 
 
 And Nora had wounded his vanity. Strange, that in 
 one so hard and cold this weakness should be so strong. 
 ^ et it \v<is so. Alick was vain of his money, his good 
 looks, and his grand new house. And he was apt to show 
 this in a surprising manner for a clever man. His age 
 was a sore point, and he hated to hear his brother Jock 
 joke about it, which sometimes Jock was apt to do, Alick, 
 in fact, intended to marry well, just as he told himself he 
 liad always done well ; and he wanted youth, beauty, and 
 money, too. 
 
 And Nora Stewart, his near neighbor, had all these 
 good qualities. He had, therefore, meant to marry her, 
 and so firm was his belief in his own power to carry out 
 anything he intended to do, that he had small doubts of 
 succeeding until the new owner of Dunbaan had appeared 
 upon the scene. 
 
 He therefore bore a bitter grudge against Biddulph, and 
 with his hard lips tight set, left Rossmore, determined to 
 do his best to hunt him down. 
 
 We must not suppose he had given up the idea of wed- 
 ding Nora bec3us(; he thought she was unduly interested 
 in this stranger, who, luckily for him — and .Alick gave a 
 
'^ 
 
 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 y 
 
 / 
 
 /. 
 
 d? 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 ■ 50 l"^* 
 
 Hi M 
 
 2.5 
 
 1^ ill 2.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 U III 1.6 
 
 V] 
 
 <^ 
 
 /] 
 
 /. 
 
 
 7 
 
 /^ 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 \ 
 
 4^ 
 
 \ 
 
 \\ 
 
 "C^ 
 
 
 6"^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 '^ 
 
 ^<h 
 
 33 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 

 O"^ 
 
92 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 grim smile — had now made such a fool of himself, and 
 thrust his head into the jaws of the law. And he should 
 not escape ; the woman had been shot on Alick's property, 
 and it behoved him, therefore, to push forward the in- 
 quiry into her death, and he did not lose one moment in 
 doing tiiis. 
 
 The p'^lice were speedily on the spot, and the Glen of 
 Ballawas first tkoroughly searched. On the ground where 
 the woman had died, the fading bracken and soaked moss 
 were trampled and blood-stained. 
 
 "There has been plainly a terrible struggle here," said 
 Alick Fraser, who, in his right of owner of the soil, was 
 watching the investigations of the police. 
 
 The inspector, whose face was shrewd and weather- 
 beaten, did not speak. He examined tlie ground care- 
 fully, and then looked up at the jutting crag which had 
 hidden the woman's approach from Biddulph's view. 
 The rifle-ball had first grazed Biddulph's shoulder ; then 
 hit the very edge of the crag, glanced off, and killed the 
 woman. 
 
 *< A ball has touched here," said the policeman, laying his 
 hands on the crag, which showed signs of its course. 
 
 *' The fellow iias shot her from behind the rock, no doubt, 
 as the poor woman went forward to meet him," now sug- 
 gested Alick Fraser. 
 
 •'By Dr. Alexander's account, Mr. Biddulph is wounded 
 on th^back of his shoulder," said the policeman dryly. " We 
 must look higher up, Mr. Fraser ; but first let us see if one 
 or more persons have been standing here." 
 
 Tiie damp, rain-soaked ground showed recent footsteps, 
 very plainly. These were here slim and straight— Bid- 
 dulph's footsteps, in fact, the boots worn having been light 
 ones. But higher up, among the crags and birchwood, 
 the police soon discovered other footsteps — footsteps made 
 by a larger foot and heavy shooting boots. These larger 
 footprints were easily traced, going in two distinct tracks 
 —the one approaching a certain point in the glen where 
 the birchwood grew very thick, and the other leaving it. 
 A man had evidently come and gone from this spot quite 
 lately ; and, looking down from it to the crag below near 
 which the woman had died and Biddulph had been hit, the 
 
 policemen all agreed that a rifle-ball could have gone straight 
 on its swift and deadly way. 
 
 Alick Fraser could not deny this, though he would not 
 agree to \U In the hard winter time the red deer often 
 
 *jji , - 
 
A STRAXGE MESSAGE. 
 
 95 
 
 came down from the deer forests higher up the loch to 
 tlic Glen of Balla, and tlie policemen suggested that a 
 stray buck had perhaps found its 'vay, and had been stalked 
 by some poacher, who had killea the "leedy '* by accident, 
 instead of the deer. There was som - probability, at all 
 events, in this, and the police carefully measured the 
 f(K)tprints in the upper ranges of the glen, as well as those 
 on the spot where the unfortunate woman had met her 
 death. 
 
 "But where is the track of the deer ?" asked Alick Era- 
 ser ; and this certainly was not visible. But it would be 
 wearisome to go into all the details of an inquiry which 
 lasted for days and which aroused the interest of the 
 whole countryside. Biddulph's position, and the roman- 
 tic story — for people were ready enough to say he had 
 wanted to get rid of one wife that he might marry a young- 
 er and handsomer one — excited the greatest curiosity and 
 gossip. 
 
 In the meanwhile the hero of it all remained quietly at 
 Dunbaan, not going (for her sake) to see the woman who 
 believed in him, and trusted in him so entirely. 
 
 And she fought his battles for him also very bravely. 
 Alick Fraser went over to Airdlinn and had a long talk 
 with Mrs. Jock, and made Mrs. Jock's kind, womanly 
 heart shudder by the account of the blood-stained ground 
 in the Glen of Balla, and expressed his opinion very 
 plainly that Biddulph, and only Biddulph, was the mur- 
 derer. 
 
 '* The case is as plain as can be, to my mind," he told his 
 brother's wife, and his brother, too, forgetting he had no 
 right to sit in judgment on a man who was not even ar- 
 rested. *' This fellow had married some low woman he was 
 ashamed of and tired of, and who, no doubt, was always 
 bothering him for money ; and then, when the old colonel 
 left him Dunbaan, he wanted to be rid of her altogether, 
 and, I expect, wanted also to marry Nora Stewart. That 
 young woman is very high and haughty about it all, too, I 
 can assure you. Well, this Biddulph gets this poor creature 
 to come down here, lures her into a lonely place, like the 
 glen — the police have possession of a note he had written to 
 her to ask her to go there alone — and when he gets her there 
 he shoots her ; and then, perhaps moved by her dying ago- 
 nies a bit, he runs for that old fool, Alexander, who de- 
 clares it is impossible he could have fired the shot, because 
 his own shoulder is hit. My belief is that his wound was 
 
 1.* ■ 
 
94 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 an after-thought, nncl done after tlie poor woman was dead 
 However, the procurator-fiscal will be at Balla to-morrow, 
 and the whole thing gone into. The police have a strong 
 case, in my opinion, against Biddulph." 
 
 '* It is a dreadful thing," said Mrs. Jock ; '' even the sus- 
 picion is dreadful. 1 hupe Nora Stewart will never 'speak 
 to him again." 
 
 " If Nora Stewart is the lassie I take her for" said Jock 
 Eraser, now looking up, " I fear slie will. The circum- 
 stances are suspicious, I grant you ; but there is no direct 
 evidence, as far as 1 can make out, against Biddulph. He 
 ran out of the glen, bleeding and wounded, straight for the 
 doctor. His own story is, Alexander tells me, tiiat he was 
 standing waiting for this poor creature, when the siiot that 
 killed her passed him, grazing his shoulder somewhat bad- 
 ly as it went. The police are inclined to think it was the 
 stray shot of some poacher, I hear ; and I think the police 
 are right." 
 
 "You wiH think differently, I expect, by-and-by, Jock," 
 answered Alick " I am certain this fellow Biddulph is 
 the guilty one ; as I have often said to Jeanie here, I never 
 liked him.'* 
 
 And Alick Fraser expressed this opinion freely where- 
 ever he went. Nevertheless, at the (official inquiry held at 
 Balla, the police had no proofs of Mr. Biddulph's guilt to 
 lay before the procurator-fiscal, who held it, except that 
 Biddulph had undoubtedly asked the woman to meet him 
 in the glen, where she met lier death. Dr. Alexander's 
 evidence was taken, and Biddulph's own, who told his story 
 truthfully and plainly. He was standing waiting for the 
 lady, whom he had asked to meet him, he said, when the 
 shot grazed his shoulder and killed her. 
 
 "And you saw no one, Mr. Biddulph, that you think 
 could possibly have fired it?" asked the procurator-fiscal. 
 
 " I saw no one ; I shouted loudly for assistance when I 
 found the lady was badly wounded, but there was no reply 
 to my calls. The person who fired the shot, iiowever, must 
 have heard them." 
 
 " You believe it to have been a stray shot — an accident ? " 
 
 "I believe it to have been an accident ; at least such was 
 my impression at the time." 
 
 " The lady, as far as you know, then, had no one likely 
 deliberately to attempt to take her life ?" 
 
 "As far as I know, she had not." 
 
 It was then proved by Dr. Alexander that she had been 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 95 
 
 'k 
 
 was dead 
 u- morrow, 
 e a stroncr 
 
 '1 tlie sus- 
 ver' speak 
 
 said Jock 
 ' circuni- 
 no direct 
 Iph. He 
 ht for tile 
 at he was 
 siiot that 
 vhat bad- 
 c vvas the 
 he police 
 
 y, Jock," 
 dulph is 
 , I never 
 
 y where- 
 y held at 
 ' guilt to 
 ept that 
 "»eet him 
 xander's 
 (lis story 
 for the 
 hen the 
 
 u think 
 )r-fiscal. 
 when I 
 o reply 
 !r, must 
 
 dent?" 
 ich was 
 
 J likely 
 
 d been 
 
 killed by a rifle-ball, which he had extracted from her body, 
 and that the wound on Mr. Biddulph's shoulder had also 
 been inflicted by a rifle-ball. Biddulph had gone into the 
 glen unarmed with a rifle, the police had ascertained, as he 
 had passed through the village of Balla, and several peo- 
 ple had seen him. In fact, the inquiry ended on the lirst 
 day pretty much where it begun. It was a case of suspi- 
 cion against Biddulph, and nothing more. The procurator- 
 fiscal, however, adjourned the inquiry for a week, directing 
 the police to make strenuous efforts to endeavor to learn 
 who had been the person who had left the larger footprints 
 in the upper reaches of the glen. 
 
 There was quite a gathering of the neighboring gen- 
 tlemen in the little village of Balla when the inquiry 
 
 broke up, all 
 
 eager 
 
 to learn how it ended ; and when 
 
 Biddulph appeared, pale, haughty, and with his head 
 erect, one or two turned slightly away. But the kindly 
 doctor slid his big hand through the arm of the suspected 
 man. 
 
 "I'll just walk a wee' with ye," he said ; and Biddulph 
 turned round and smiled, understanding well the motive of 
 the friendly action. 
 
 They passed down the village together, and on their way 
 encountered the two Erasers. 
 
 Alick gave a short little laugh, while a stern smile flit- 
 tered over his hard face. But Jock stopped, hesitated a 
 moment, and then held out his hand to Biddulph. 
 
 ** It's a cold day, Mr. Biddulph," he said, and that was 
 all ; but when he rejoined Alick, the younger brother 
 shrugged his shoulders and remarked disagreeably : 
 
 "You are not particular about your acquaintances, it 
 seems, Jock." 
 
 " I have no right to judge a man who is probably inno- 
 cent," answered Jock, quietly. 
 
 Mrs. Jock had also been so moved by curiosity to hear 
 at once the result of the inquiry, that she had accompanied 
 her husband to Balla in the morning, but had taken the op- 
 portunity, while it was going on, to call at Rossmore to see 
 Nora Stewart. 
 
 Nora looked very pale, but her dark eyes were bright and 
 resolute as her kinswoman kissed her cold cheeks. 
 
 "Well, my dear," said Mrs. Jock, "I thought I would 
 come and see you, as Jock and Alick are both at Balla, to 
 hear how this bad business ends." 
 
 "It must be very painful for Mr. Biddulph," answered 
 
 
96 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 Nora, raising her head with a little haughty air that well 
 became her. 
 
 ** It must be terrible ; bad as he is, I feel some pity for 
 him." 
 
 " Bad as he is ? " repeated Nora, indignantly. " Have 
 you already condemned him, then, Mrs. Fraser, of what he 
 is innocent ? " 
 
 " My dear, how can you tell he is innocent ?" 
 
 " Because I have heard the whole story from his own 
 lips ; because I know he w-ould have died before he liad 
 lifted his hand to nurt the miserable woman who has been 
 the curse of his wiiole life." 
 
 Mrs. Jock did not speak for a moment ; she moved un- 
 easily. 
 
 "Then," she said, after a little pause, "you have seen 
 him — since this unhappy affair ?" 
 
 " Yes, I have seen him ; I sent for him. I am not going 
 to look coldly on the man who saved my life because an 
 unjust suspicion has fallen on his name." 
 
 " But, my dear " 
 
 " I know what you are going to say — that he had no right, 
 I suppose, not to tell us all that, when almost a boy, he 
 had formed a connection ; married a woman, if you will, 
 of whom he was ashamed. Why should he tell this unless 
 he chose ? He asked no one else to marry him, did he ? 
 I think you are all treating him most unjustly, and I for 
 one mean to be exact! v the same to him." 
 
 " Nora, you arc but a girl " 
 
 " I am old enough to know right from w^rong, at least, 
 and I know Mr. Biddulph has done no wrong." 
 
 " Still, Nora " 
 
 "Do not let us talk of it any more," interrupted Nora, 
 with decision. " How are Minnie and Malcolm, Mrs. 
 Fraser ? " 
 
 " M innie is very well, but Malcolm does not get over that 
 terrible fall of his as I would wish him ; he looks very ill." 
 
 «' p 
 
 Poor boy !" said Nora, thinking at the same time the 
 "poor boy " quite deserved all he had got, for attacking 
 Mr. Biddulph so unjustifiably. 
 
 They talked a little while of other things after this, and 
 then presently Jock Fraser arrived to look after his wife. 
 
 " VVell ?"said Mis. Jock, eagerly, as her husband entered 
 Nora's drawinfr-room. 
 
 " Nothing decided has come of it," answered Jock to the 
 unspoken question. " Alick and I have been talking to 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 97 
 
 Mr. Grant, the procurator-fiscal, and he has adjourned the 
 inquiry for a week, and the sheriff of the county will be 
 here the next time as well. But my opinion is, there has 
 nothing jome out to bring it home fo Biddulph." 
 
 ** How could there when he is innocent?" said Nora, 
 with quivering lips. 
 
 Jock Fraser looked at her with his kind brown eyes. 
 
 *' Tiiere's a true woman for you!" he said, smiling. 
 " Well, my dear, I hope for his own sake he is innocer.i, 
 and I am certainly inclined to believe that he is." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 AN UNPLEASANT WELCOME. 
 
 The next day Biddulph went to see Nora, and to his 
 great relief found her alone. 
 
 "I have come here," he said, trying to speak lightly, as 
 he took her hand, though he was in truth much agitated, 
 *' under great difficulties, and I really dreaded to find any- 
 one witli you." 
 
 " Why should you ? You are always welcome here," 
 answered Nora. 
 
 " But when a man is conscious that his movements are 
 watched, he gets a little nervous about the reception he 
 may meet with — except from such as you." 
 
 "And do they still watch you?" 
 
 ** A remarkably pleasant-looking, shrewd-faced constable 
 crossed the loch a yard or two behind me, and when I 
 landed at your pier, another received me with the most 
 tender solicitude, and, I have no doubt, is waiting for me 
 in your avenue. Yes, I am watched, and for this reason I 
 have not dared to come to you before, but to-day I felt I 
 must." 
 
 " What matter is it ? " said Nora, looking at him with her 
 dark eyes. " You are innocent ; you need not care what 
 they do." 
 
 " But a great many people — thanks to our friend Mr. 
 Alick Fraser, I believe — do not think me innocent. But, 
 as you say, I try to tell myself it is no matter, but all the 
 same it is not pleasant." 
 
 "You must lift yourself above it." 
 
 " Up among the stars, eh, Miss Stewart ? Do you know, 
 
 7 
 
 
98 
 
 /t STA'.IXCr. A/F.SSACE. 
 
 last night I tried to do this; I stood looking at the vast 
 luminous space of bhie, and told myself that up there they 
 knew the truth, the bright twinkling star-eyes that have 
 looked down on all the agt;s." 
 
 " And did this thougiit give you peace ?" 
 
 **A sort of peace — of awe, rather — tiie grand realities 
 against the shams : but still, to be suspected of tnurder^ 
 and of the murder of a woman, too, is rather rough on one, 
 you know." 
 
 " You will not always be suspected." 
 
 " 1 hope not ; sometimes I believe not ; but in themean- 
 while, I repeat, it is not agreeable. However" — and Bid- 
 dulph looked at Nora and smiled — ''you are good enough, 
 it seems, to believe in me, and the doctor." 
 
 " He is a dear, true old man I " 
 
 "He is more than that, I think, if anything can be 
 higher than to be absolutely true in word and deed. But 
 there was something positively heroic," added Biddulph, 
 half bitterly, " in the doctor's conduct both yesterday and 
 to-day. In the very face of Mr. Alick Fraser, his richest 
 patient, no doubt, he yesterday put his arm through that of 
 the man Mr. Alick Fraser wishes to hunt to death ; and to- 
 day he followed the poor woman to the grave whose end was 
 so drear, and whose life, judging by the higher moralities 
 at least, was so unutterably sad." 
 
 " It is all unutterably sad for you." 
 
 " Unutterably sad, and unutterably degrading. I have 
 wished during the last few days, Miss Stewart, that I had 
 never been born." 
 
 " This feeling will pass away ; you will go away from 
 here " 
 
 "Not,"- interrupted Biddulph, with kindling eyes, as 
 Nora paused, "until it is known who fired that shot in the 
 Glen of Balla. They shall not say I ran away or shirked 
 it, at any rate. I have offered three hundred pounds re- 
 ward, and, if that is not enough, \ shall offer a thousand ; 
 mv father wishes me to do so now." 
 
 '"Your father?" 
 
 " Yes ; did you not know my father was living ? A close, 
 self-contained, clever man who seemed to give me very 
 little love in my youth and manhood, and yet who is very 
 eager to have this stain wiped off my name. I remember 
 my mother, too, a gentle, dreamy-eyed woman, who died 
 when I was a lad, before " — and Biddulph frowned—*' my 
 life was spoilt." 
 
 nig-ro 
 excha 
 angul 
 up to 
 
 have 
 
 befoi 
 advai 
 mad( 
 
 Ml 
 As h 
 this 
 Nor^ 
 full 
 
 
 mai 
 
 <( 
 
 No 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 99 
 
 " It is not spoilt," said Nora, her lovely blush mounting 
 to cheek and brow ; "you have had a bitter, painful past, 
 but it \s past," 
 
 *' How noble you look ! " said Biddulph, fixing his gray, 
 sombre eyes on her face. " You might lead a man on, 
 Miss Stewart, to big deeds and a big life — a life worth 
 living for." 
 
 Nora's blush deepened, and her eyelids drooped over 
 her dark eyes. 
 
 ** I did not know you ever paid compliments," she said, 
 witii a smile. 
 
 *'Nor do I. I was thinking if, in my earlier manhood, 
 anyone had helped me up, 1 might not now have had an 
 aimless career before me. But as it is " 
 
 At this moment the sound of carriage wheels was heard, 
 and Biddulph rose and went to tiie window. 
 
 " Here is an arrival," he said, in an annoyed tone. " I 
 shall go now. Miss Stewart." 
 
 " 1 ask you not to go ; I wish you not to go," said Nora, 
 earnestly, raising herself on the couch, and looking round 
 at Biddulph. 
 
 " But it will be painful for us all." 
 
 " Mrs. Conway-Hopc," announced Alfred at the draw- 
 ing-room door ; and the next instant, as Nora and Biddu^*"'"* 
 exchanged a glance of half-comic horror, that lady's gaunt, 
 angular form made its appearance, and she at once rushed 
 up to Nora, and kissed l>er efifusively. 
 
 " My dear child ! I was determined to come at once. I 
 have just heard this dreadful story about Mr. Biddulph." 
 
 " I think. Cousin Margaret, you have met Mr. Biddulph 
 before," said Nora suppressively ; and upon tiiis Biddulph 
 advanced from ihe window to the centre of the room, and 
 made a grave bow. 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope's face at this moment was a study. 
 As iier short-siglited eyes took in the fact that this man — 
 this man accused of murder — was standing before her in 
 Nora Stewart's drawing-room, she drew herself up to her 
 full height, and her gray-tinted skin grew grayer. 
 
 " I — I am very much surprised," she said. 
 
 " To see me here ? " answered Biddulph, with a little 
 scornful smile. 
 
 "Yes— I^w surprised," said Mrs. Conway-Hopc, with 
 marked severity. 
 
 "To see any guest of mine in my own house?" said 
 Nora, haughtily. " Mr. Biddulph is my friend and my 
 
 h 
 
 
 K 
 
lOO 
 
 A ST/^AiVGE Af ESS AGE. 
 
 \*:' 
 
 invited guest, so why should you be surprised to see him 
 here, Cousin Margnret?" 
 
 Mrs. Cuiuvay-llopc (Hd not speak for .1 moment ; then 
 she sank down on a chair near as if (juit(* overcome. 
 
 '* I sliall say notiiing," she murmured, with a dismal 
 shake of i)er head. 
 
 " I won't sliock vour feelings bv mv presence anv 
 longer, Mrs. Conway-Hope," said Biddulpli, now going up 
 to Nora's coucii, wlio was sitting with flushed cheeks and 
 sparkling eyes. "Good-by, Miss Stewart "—and he took 
 Nora's hand — '* I thank you f(-)r your generous words." 
 
 " Must you go ? Will you promise, then, to come sooa 
 again ? " 
 
 " Buried to-day," muttered Mrs. Conway-Hope in a 
 sepidchral tone from her chair. 
 
 "I shall come if you ask me to do so," said Biddulph, 
 ignoring Mrs. Conway-Hope's remark.' 
 
 " I do ask you ; I wish you to come — I shall expect 
 you." 
 
 " I shall be too happy." 
 
 They sho(jk hands, and then the moment after the room 
 door had closed on Biddulph, Mrs. Conway-Hope rose and 
 approached Nora. 
 
 *' Nora," she said, solemnly, *' I never expected this 
 from my cousin's child." 
 
 "Nor did I expect," answered Nt)ra, with quick anger, 
 " that any one dar»; insult a guest ui mine under my roof ; 
 but it shall not occur a second time." 
 
 "But this man ! You know what is said — that he shot 
 his unfortunate wife, whom he had ill-treated and ignored. 
 Nora, I am shocked; I must speak the truth — terribly 
 shocked to see him here." 
 
 " You will not be shocked again, then. You came in .x 
 carriage from the station I suppose ? I shall ring and 
 desire it to wait for you." 
 
 " I — I came to stay," said Mrs Conway-Hope, not quite 
 so resolutely. 
 
 "I am sorry, but I cannot receive you. I can receive no 
 one who insults my friends." 
 
 "My dear, consider a moment " 
 
 Nora rang her hand-bell, and her young footman 
 appeared. 
 
 "Alfred, desire the carriage that brought Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope to wait for her; and see that her luggage is put 
 back. Mrs. Conway-Hope is leaving by the next train." 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 lot 
 
 Alfred bowed and departed, and Mrs. Con way-Hope 
 drew out liei iiaiulkeirhief. 
 
 " Are you in earnest — uiy dead cousin's cliild, to whom 
 I liave been a mother?" slie said, endeavoring to abstract 
 u tear from her short-siglited eyes. 
 
 " I am quite in earnest." 
 
 "It is l)eginning to snow, and I have travelled forty 
 miles witliout refreslunent," now said Mrs. Conway-IIope, 
 almost with pathos. 
 
 '■ I am sorry. What will you have before you go ?" 
 
 '•I feel I require — dinner." 
 
 " It is too early for dinner, but I will ring and order 
 something." 
 
 Nora did this, and presently sandwiches and sherry ap- 
 peared ; but Mrs. Conwa}-IIope, overcome with emotion, 
 and really not knowing where to go, could not eat the 
 saiulwiches, though she drank the sherry. 
 
 " I cannot," she said, with a genuine sob at the desolate 
 prospect before her ; and then, perhaps inspired by the 
 two glasses (if sherry ihe had managed to swallow, she 
 wept out, *' Nora, my child, will you turn me from your 
 door --turn out my gray hairs to face the storm ? " 
 
 Nora, who had really a very tender heart, began to 
 relent. It was now snowing fast, and turning dusk ; 
 and, after all, this stupid woman was her dead father's 
 cousin. 
 
 " I don't want to be hard,' she said ; "but \will not have 
 my guests insulted." 
 
 "I — I meant no insult," sobbed Mrs. Conway-Hope, 
 now completely humbled. 
 
 "Well, in that case " 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope needed no furtlier permission. She 
 kissed Nora ; she rang the bell eagerly for Alfred. 
 
 " I thank heaven our little quarrel is over,'* she said, 
 throwing up her eyes to the ceiling. "Nora, my dear, 
 may I have my usual room ? Alfred, see that my luggage 
 is taken to the blue room, and tell the housemaid to light 
 a good fire ; it is such bitter weather, and I have been a 
 little upset." 
 
 ^k 
 
 I 
 
 W 
 
102 
 
 /f SThWXCF. MIlSSAllI':. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 BIDDULPH S RF.WARD. 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Tlope, luivint^ thus established herself at 
 Rossmorc, was vcrv careful not to offciul Nora again, and 
 she pointedly never mentioned Mr. Bi'ldulph's name. 
 And when a chance visitor iia})pcned to do this, she 
 coughed significantly, as much as to inform the visitor 
 that he had better avoid the subject. In fact, it began to 
 be understood among Nora Stewart's friends — the Frascrs 
 and others— that siie would hear nothing against Mr. 
 Biddulph. 
 
 ** I fully expect, if he gets clear out of this business, 
 that she will marry him," Mrs. Jock said one day to her 
 brother-in-law Alick, "and Jock thinks so, too." 
 
 Alick Fraser muttered something very like an oath as 
 he listened to these words, 
 
 " Do vou think she is such an utter fool as that ? " he 
 asked, darkly. 
 
 *' I think she is in h)ve with him," answered Mrs. Jock, 
 " and it is a thousand pities." 
 
 Alick went away from xVirdlinn with a frown upon his 
 brow, and fresh anger in his heart. It wanted but two 
 days when this co'.iversation took place to the (supposed) 
 final inquiry to be held at Balla on the death of the 
 woman in the glen, and nothing further, it was under- 
 stood, had been discovered by the police ; and Alick went 
 home determined to leave no stone unturned to produce 
 fresh evidence. He really believed (so apt are we to per- 
 suade ourselves to think as wc desire) that Bid*^. Iph had 
 shot his wife ; and it would be too horrible, i.^; argued 
 to himself, as he cast his covetous eyes on Nora's acres, 
 which marched with his own, if she should be mad enough 
 to marry this murderer. He would send for Sandy Hill, 
 he determined. Sandy had ferreted out about Biddulph's 
 marriage, and perhaps he might find out something about 
 the murder, too. 
 
 "The police are a set of idiots," thought Alick, impa- 
 tiently. He tlierefore telegraphed to his clerk at Glasgow 
 to come at once to Inismore, and he informed his house- 
 keeper she might expect a visit again from Mr. Hill, the 
 upholsterer. 
 
A STRAXCE MESSAGF.. 
 
 103 
 
 S.'uuly firrivcd the day before the inquiry, at which the 
 slieri'^ f the county was to be present, and Alick Fraser 
 lost n^ itue in layiniij tlie whole case before his subor- 
 dinate, who listened with great attention. 
 
 "Looks very black for Mr. Hiddulph," said Sandy, with 
 his reddish h'.;ad turned to one side, for lie was taking it 
 all in, and saw it wotdd be agreeable to Mr. Fraser's feel- 
 ings if he thought Mr. Hiddulph guilty. 
 
 " It's as plain as daylight to my mind," said Alick. 
 "Who else had any motive for shooting the poor woman ? 
 Ilut the weak points in the evidence against liiddulph are, 
 that he is said to have gone unarmed into tlie glen, and 
 the scratch on his shoulder, wlrch that old fool, Dr. Alex- 
 ander, persists in affirming he could not have done him- 
 self. Now, if we only could find out that he by some 
 means got hold of a rifle — lie may have borrowed one, 
 d'ye see, and bribed the gillie or the poacher to hold his 
 tongue ? He is rich, this liiddulph, and as his neck is in 
 question " 
 
 " He would be ready to pay, naturally," grinned Sandy. 
 
 " Try to find out someth.^ig, man. I am ready to come 
 down with a hundred, nay, two hundred, if it can be 
 brought home to the fellow ; it's a disgrace to justice if 
 he escapes." 
 
 ** I'll do my little all, Mr. Fraser," said Sandy, with mild 
 facetiousness. But when the day of the inquiry before 
 the sheriff at Balla arrived, Sandy had nothing new to tell 
 Ills patron. lie had mingled with the people about, and 
 drank whiskey with them in their smoky cabins ; he had 
 talked to the servants, and, though he had heard a good 
 deal of gossip, Sandy was too shrewd not to know it was 
 not worth repeating. 
 
 Only the old evidence, therefore, was laid before the 
 slieriff, who carefullv went over the whole circumstances. 
 Me was a clever man this, a lawyer and a land-owner, and 
 he had been personally acquainted with the late Colonel 
 liiddulph, and his shrewd giay eyes and acute ears fol- 
 lowed Biddulph's steady evidence with keen attention. 
 
 "This lady was, 1 believe, your wife, Mr. Biddulph?" 
 said the sheriff, as Biddulpji concluded his account of the 
 woman's death. 
 
 "She was," answered Biddulph, firmly; "a wife whom I 
 had not seen for years, until my uncle left me the property 
 at Dunbaan, when she appeared to claim a larger income, 
 which I gave her." 
 
 i\ t 
 
 1':^ 
 
104 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 A faint smile passed over the sherifif's face. Mr. Bid- 
 dulph was supplying a motive for wishing to be rid of his 
 wife vvitliout bein<^ asked for it. 
 
 But this keen Scotciiman knew the human heart too 
 well not to know that these words pointed to innocence, 
 and not to guilL In fact, the inquiry ended in its being 
 declared that this woman had met her death (probably) 
 througli inadvertence, by the hand of some person or per^ 
 sons unknown ; but the sheriff considered himself justified 
 in offering a reward for the discovery of such person or 
 persons. 
 
 Then, as tlie inquiry ended, Biddulph, liaving nrst asked 
 the slieriff's leave to do so, rose from his seat, and addressed 
 a few words to those present. 
 
 " I wish, before this inquiry breaks up," he said, very 
 calmly, and somewhat haughtily, ^' to offer one thousand 
 pounds reward, in addition to the sum the sheriff has just 
 named, for information tiiat shall lead to the discovery of 
 the man who fired the shot that killed my late wife in the 
 Glen of Bulla. I have tlie sheriff's permission to say this ;" 
 and he bowed gravely to that official. 
 
 And people believe him innocent after this. It is aston- 
 ishing how quickly public opinion veers round ; and a 
 man was unlikely to offer a thousand pounds if there were 
 any chance of incriminating himself by doing so. The 
 sheriff entered into friendly conversation with Biddulph, 
 the doctor warmly grasped his hand, and the ears of the 
 police positively tingled. A thousand pounds ! There 
 was not a man among them did not wish, and perhaps 
 hope, to make the desired discovery. 
 
 And there was a man outside who grew quite pale with 
 excitement when he heard of Mr. 13iddulph's offer. It 
 must not be supposed, becntise Mr. Hill was cringing in 
 manner, that he was without ambition. We all, probablv, 
 have some height to which we would attain ; and Sandy's 
 height was to cease to be a clerk, to cease to be Sandy, and 
 ^ become Sandford Hill, Esquire, a merchant of the city 
 of Glasgow, a ship-owner, perhaps a ship-builder, as his 
 present master had been. 
 
 And if he could only gain this thousand pounds, Sandy 
 reflected, the way would be open before him. He was a 
 good businessman, and he had good business connections; 
 all he wanted was capital, and here was a chance ! 
 
 The village of Balla was quite lively during the whole 
 afternoon after the sheriff's inquiry was over. People 
 
A STUANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 105 
 
 watched Mr. Biddulph as he walked down to the loch, 
 with his head a little more erect even than usual, and 
 speculated and talked about him, and among those who 
 watched liim was Sandy Hill. 
 
 His friend the doctor went part of the way with Bid- 
 dulph, and asked him if he would not go and see "the 
 vcjung leddy at Rossmore " before he crossed the loch, 
 liut Biddulph shook his head. 
 
 " Not to day," he said ; "yet 1 should like her to hear," 
 be added, a little wistfully ; and the doctor took the 
 hint. 
 
 " I shall be looking in there in about half an hour," he 
 said, with a kindly gleam of humor in his small eyes ; 
 "and, maybe, the news I'll carry will do her more good 
 tlian my potions." And he nocded, and turned away, and 
 Biddulph walked slowly on to the loch, where his boat 
 and his boatmen were waiting for him. 
 
 He felt serious, if not sad. He was a free man once 
 more — free to go and come unwatched, and a hideous sus- 
 ])icion was lifted off, or ought to be lifted off, his name. 
 And he was free to go also to the true-hearted woman who 
 had stood by him when so many had turned away. 
 
 And this thought was very sweet to Biddulph's heart. 
 Since he had known Nora, for the first time in his life he 
 had met some one who seemed to understand that inner 
 nature of his, which in ordinary society he was apt to hide 
 away. He could, in truth, talk to her as he had talked to 
 none other ; speak of hopes and aspirations whicii were 
 not bounded by narrow time. They were akin, he 
 thought, and the fair garniture of womanhood made Nora, 
 in his eyer., a purer and better self. 
 
 "She will pull a man up, not drag him down," he 
 thought, recalling a certain lofty expression in Nora's 
 dark eyes, which told of a soul unspoLted by mean frailties 
 and faults. 
 
 Tiie " pretty follies" of her sex had, in truth, no charm 
 for Biddulpii. Perhaps that dismal early experienceo/ his 
 had made him bitter, and apt to be cynical, and not easily 
 moved by a fair face. "If Miss Stewart had been a plain 
 woman, I should have liked her just as well," he had fre- 
 quently told himself ; but perhaps upon this point he did 
 not quiteunderstand his own feelings. 
 
 He was sittins: thinkino: of her after this so'iitarv dinner 
 was over, in the comfortable library at Dunbaan, en the 
 day following the sheriff's inquiry at Balla, when he heard 
 
 I 
 
Jo6 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 the house-door bell ring, and the usual sounds of an ar- 
 rival. 
 
 in tills lonely Flighland home this was quite an event, 
 jiiid Biddnlp.'i looked tip Vvith some ii terest, and a few 
 luiniiKrs later old Donald brought him in a card, on which 
 was neatly printed : 
 
 '' Mr. Sandford Hilir 
 
 ** Who is Mr. SandforJ Hill ?" he asked the gray-liaired 
 servant. 
 
 "I never heard of the gcntleninn, sir," replied Donald. 
 
 " Is he a gentleman ?" inquired Biddulph. 
 
 *' I could not take upon myself to say exactly, sir," said 
 the cautions Donald. 
 
 "Show him in. I suppose he wants a subscription or 
 something." 
 
 Then Sandy was ushered in. He was nervous, he was a 
 little pale, but still he had his wits about him. 
 
 " I have taken the liberty to call, Mr. Biddulph. I have 
 the honor of sf)eaking to Mr. Biddulph, have I not ?" 
 
 " I am Mr. liiddiilph." 
 
 "1 have taken the liberty of calling, then," repeated 
 Sandy, " because I understand you have offered a certain 
 r('ward in the event of the discovery of the person who 
 unfortunately killed the lady \\\ the Glen of Balla?" 
 
 " Yes, I have done so." 
 
 " One thousand pounds?" asked Sandy, insinuatingly. 
 
 *'Yes." 
 
 " In that case," said Sandy, putting on an air of business. 
 ** I hope, sir, we shall be able to come to terms; I have 
 found the iiian." 
 
 CHAPTER XVU. 
 
 SANDY WINS. 
 
 Biddulph looked eagerly up, as Sandy Hill made this 
 surj) rising annoinicement. 
 
 "What?" h(-;ai(l. 
 
 "Yes, Ml". Biddulph," contimied Sandy, approaching 
 nearer to Jiiddiilph, and lowering his voice into a mysteri- 
 ous whisper; " but might I be as bold, sir, before I com- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 107 
 
 municate my story, as to see tnat we have no listeners ? " 
 And Sandy lookeu at the door, which was slightly ajar. 
 
 '* Certainly. Be good enough to shut the door, and then 
 sit down and tell me all you know." 
 
 Sandy went to the door first, and peeped out ; ^hen he 
 drew a chair close to Biddulpii's, and sat down on.i.ieedge 
 of it. 
 
 " I want you to understand first, please, Mr. Biddulph," 
 he began in a low and confidential tone, ''that in coming 
 here to-night, in one way, I am making a sacrifice of my 
 feelings — at least, of certain feelings ; but in matters of 
 business we must put feelings into our pockets." 
 
 "I do not in the least understand your meaning." 
 
 " Not yet, sir ; but you will come to it. Let u«= first have 
 a clear arrangement ; I am a man of business, and I like 
 everything on the square. The sum of one thousand pounds 
 is to be paid down, then, by you to the person who brings 
 such information to you that the police shall be able to 
 lav tiieir hands on the party who shot the lady in the 
 glen ? " 
 
 '• Have I not said so ? " asked Biddulph, impatiently. 
 
 "That is arranged, then ; the next thing, perhaps, that 
 I had best explain, Mr. Biddulph, is who I am, and how I 
 happen to be mixed up in this business." 
 
 "I shall be ^lad to liear." 
 
 *' I manage Mr. Aliek Eraser's business affairs in Glas- 
 gow," began Sandy, with rather a grand air ; but a hasty 
 exclamation from Biddulph stopped him. 
 
 "Mr. Alick Eraser! He is not mixed up in your coming 
 here to-night, is he?" asked Biddulph, sharply. 
 
 "No, Mr. Biddulph, he is not — not in any way mixed up ; 
 in fact, he would have stopped me if I had taken him into 
 my confidence. But a sense of justice, and a sense of 
 what is due to a gentleman in your position, sir, has in- 
 duced me in this matter not to consider Mr. Fraser 
 exactly." 
 
 " Well, if he hp,s nothing to do with it, you can go on." 
 
 "I shall go on, sir, for he has not. To put things in 
 proper order, Mr. Biddulph, I must return now to yester- 
 day afternoon, when it became known in the village of 
 Balla the handsome reward you had offered for the dis- 
 covery of the murderer of the lady. It created an excite- 
 ment, sir. The police were excited, and I shall not deny 
 that r was also. I may here mention, Mr. Biddulph, that 
 it has long been my desire to start in business on my own 
 
loS 
 
 A STKAA'GE MESSAGE. 
 
 account, and that want of capital has alone prevented me. 
 I thought to myself, here is a chance of capital, if I can 
 only hit the riglit nail on the head. I determined to try. 
 I tried to liear what the police were whispering to each 
 other, for I have long ears; but they took care I should 
 hear notliing, for tliey are very artful, are the police. But 
 as I kept moving about, sir, among tlie people, with my 
 ears open, I may say, two lads passed me whose words I 
 thought very significant." 
 
 "Tins was in Balla ?" 
 
 " In Balla, sir, about seven p.m., when it was growing 
 dusk, and the people were still talking all round about 
 your offered reward. Said one lad to the other, as they 
 passed me, 'But just think, Rob, vvliat this money would 
 do for us.' The other replied, 'For all tiiat, I wouldn't 
 have it on my conscience ; and I won't break my word.' 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph, these words struck me. I'm sliarp, and 
 the manner of both the lads was very earnest. They were 
 young fellows • f between eighteen and twenty — brotliers, 
 by the likeness between them — and were dressed, one in 
 game-keeper fashion, the other as a workman or woodman. 
 Well, I followed them — not close, you know ; but I kept 
 them in sight, and presently they went into a little thatched 
 hovel, not far from the roadside, on Mr. Alick Eraser's 
 property. I hung about till it was quite dark, and then I 
 crept on my hands and knees round a little hillock, at the 
 back of the cottage, until I got close up to the mud walls. 
 It was little better than a heap of stones, sir, and there 
 were plenty of chinks tliat I could put my ears to, and my 
 eyes also, for that matter. They had a good log lire on the 
 hearth, and they were cooking sometliing in a caldron 
 hung over it, that smelt uncommon well, anyhow; and an 
 old wife, deaf and smoke-dried, was sitting smoking. I 
 listened ; what do you think tliey were talking about, Mr. 
 Biddulph?" 
 
 " How can I possibly tell ? " said Biddulph. 
 
 "About yourself, sir — quite free like. May I make so 
 bold as to tell you exactly what they said ?" 
 
 " Of course you can." 
 
 " Well, sir, the one they called Rob said it was a bad job 
 fronk beginning to end, and that he wished you had never 
 came into the countryside. ' It's plnyed the vera de'il wi' 
 the young laird,' he said ; 'he's a changed mon.' " 
 
 •' With the young laird ? " asked Biddulph, inquiringly 
 
 " Meaning young Mr. Malcoln^ Fraser, sir, as I soon dis- 
 
A STRANGIi AfESSAGE. 
 
 109 
 
 covered. Then tliey talked on about a set-to that you and 
 Mr. Malcolm Fraser had had together, and said there was 
 ill-blood between you, and the like. 'Still,' said the one 
 they called Tarn — the elder brother — 'the young laird had 
 na right to make a muir-cock of the puir-leedy.*" 
 
 *' What?" cried Biddulph, with some excitement. 
 
 "That was what Tarn said, sir ; and then he began ham- 
 mering on again about the money. With such a sum they 
 could take a farm ; they could go to Australia and become 
 rich men, and a hundred things besides. Tarn kept saying 
 all this over and over, but Rob said very little, and sat with 
 his liead hanging down. Then suddenly he looked up, 
 and spoke quite sharp-like. 
 
 "'Na, I won't,' he said ;' 'I won't bring the young laird 
 to the gallows for a' tlie gold that e'er was coined ! Don't 
 talk na mair aboot it, Tam, my mind's made up ; and 
 luike here,' he added, drawing some money out of his 
 pocket, * here's five sovereigns the puir fellow brought 
 tills morn, and he told me it was a' he had ; and he 
 promised we should never want for naught, and that he'd 
 get the laird to gi' us a bit holding as soon as he could. 
 I'll keep his secret, an' ye must keep it, Tam ; I could na 
 lie in my bed if I thouglit I'd twined the rope round his 
 neck — him I ha' known sa lang.* 
 
 "Mr. Biddulph," continued Sandy, growing quite ex- 
 cited with his narrative, " I have repeated word lor word 
 what he spoke, but I need not go on with all they 
 said. They got their supper out of the caldron over the 
 fire — a fat rabbit — and tlie stone jar of whiskey from the 
 cupboard, and hadn't they a set-to, and the old dame, 
 who could not hear a single word, along with them ! 
 And Tam agreed to keep the young laird's secret as well 
 as Rob ; for Rob reminded him he had made a solemn 
 promise to do so, and that he would never have told his 
 brother except that Tam had heard Rob rambling on in 
 liis sleep about the poor lady's dying shrieks, and had 
 laid one thing to the other, and had thus found it out." 
 
 "And what else did they say?" asked Biddulph, who 
 was very pale, as Sandy paused for breath. 
 
 " A deal, sir, and my very blood ran cold to hear them. 
 Rob said that he and the young laird were on the high 
 hills above the Glen of Balla, when they espied your 
 boat crossing the loch through young Mr. Malcolm's 
 field-glass. Thev -w^'ere returning from the deer forest at 
 the head of tlie ^ach, and hud sat down to drink some 
 
 ^1 
 
 'Ml 
 
 1i': 
 
 f'i 
 
no 
 
 A STA'.^yc;/-: MESS^iGE. 
 
 whiskey from their flasks, nnd they saw you, and Rob said 
 Mr. Malcolm's face grew black as night at the sight. 
 Rob was carrying the young bird's ritle, and they lind 
 not had a chance of a siiot at the deer all the day and 
 tne riHe was loaded ; and as Mr. Malcolm watched yon, 
 through his glass, land at Balla and enter the glen, the 
 very devil himself, Rob said, seemed to get hold of the 
 young laird, and his face grew just awful to behold. Then 
 he snatched the rifle out of Rob's hand, and swore he would 
 have a shot at you ; and Rob went down on his knees and 
 prayed him for the Lord's sake to let you alone. But he 
 swore he would, and he ran down the hill with his rifle 
 in his hand, and stood among some birchwood ; but Rob 
 stopped where he was, and turned his back, and wouldn't 
 look as he did not wish to see his young master commit 
 murder. 
 
 "Well, sir," continued Sandy, his very hair apparently 
 standing on end with horror, and his round eyes dilating, 
 for Sandy hated the very name of fire-arms, " the next 
 minute Rob heard the rifle-shot, and the lady's awful 
 screams. He'll never forget them, he said, to liis dying 
 day ; and as he stood terrified, young Mr. Malcolm ran 
 back to him, with the rifle in his hand, and murder in his 
 eyes ! ' I've shot them both,' he said ; and he called you 
 and the lady, sir, such ill names, I could not take upon 
 myself to repeat them in your presence. But he gave 
 the rifle back to Rob, and they crept together out of the 
 glen, through the high hills, and back to the head of the 
 loch ; and Rob swore to the young laird that he would 
 never betray him. So that's my story, Mr. Biddulph," 
 added Sandy, drawing out his red silk handkercliief and 
 mopping his face ; "and I think you'll agree w^ith me, I 
 have laid such information before you that I am entitled 
 to the offered reward in full ? " 
 
 "I quite agree with you, Mr. Hill," answered Biddulph. 
 And then he rose from his chair and began walking 
 slowly up and dowm the room, with his eyes cast upon 
 the floor. Of what was he thinking ? First a sort of a 
 stern triumph filled his heart, that this cruel deed had been 
 brought home to the headstrong youth who had twice 
 attacked him, and whose own feet had now become en- 
 tangled in the snare he had spread for Biddulph. But 
 suddenly, Sandy fugitively watching him, saw his expres- 
 sion change. Biddulph stopped, bit his under lip, and 
 then looked quickly at Sandy. A swift thought had 
 
 ■'" j> ii * ■ ■— 11. 
 
A STRAXGE MESSAGE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 i.M--^^' 
 
 darted into liis mind — a most painful thouglu, for Bid- 
 dulpii had remembered Mrs. Fraser, and tiie mother's 
 fond, ahnost passionate love for her only son. 
 
 How often had he seen her eyes soften as she looked on 
 her boy's face ; and this blow, he knew, would be most 
 terrible to her. Again Bidduiph resumed his slow pacings 
 to and fro; he was trying to think what it would be best to 
 do, how he could "temper justice with mercy," in the 
 trying position in which he found himself. 
 
 " And when do you propose, Mr. Hill," he said at length, 
 addressing Sandy, to lay the information you have ac- 
 quirer before the police ?" 
 
 "First thing in the morning, sir," answered Sandy, 
 briskly. *' I prepared the whole statement before I came 
 here this evening, as I did not wish to come until the 
 dusk, as one never can tell who is watching one. I think 
 I shall be justified also, sir," he added, clearing his throat, 
 " in applying for the two hundred pounds offered by the 
 Sheriff." 
 
 "You will become quite rich, Mr. Hill," said Bidduiph, 
 a little grimly. 
 
 " I shall make a good use of the capital I have acquired, 
 I hope, Mr. Bidduiph. I propose, sir, to start in business 
 on my own account at once ; and I am sure, Mr. Bid- 
 duiph, if you would zhyq to entrust me with any commis- 
 sion, you will find me strictly honorable and honest, sir 
 — the last penny accounted for, after a fair per cent, has, 
 of course, been deducted." 
 
 " I shall not forget your obliging offer. And about this 
 thousand pounds — when do you want it ? " 
 
 Sandy's face fell. 
 
 " i understood," he said, after a moment's pause, " that 
 it was to be paid doivn.'' 
 
 " Immediately upon the information having been given 
 to the police, eh ? " 
 
 " That was what I understood, sir." 
 
 "Well, come here to-morrow morning. Let me see — 
 say about twelve o'clock, before you have been to the po- 
 lice. I want to go over the whole thing myself before you 
 apply to them, so that there is no screw loose. Don't men- 
 tion this to a soul until I have seen you again ; and if you 
 come here, as I said, to-morrow at twelve^ I shall have your 
 check for one thousand pounds ready for you ; but only, 
 remember, on the condition that you have not gone first 
 to the police." 
 
 'ii 
 
 l^mA 
 
tta 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 '* Of course, I shall do exactly as you wish, Mr. Bid- 
 dulph," said Sandy, opening his round eyes wider, and 
 rubbing his hands together. He w.is too sharp not to 
 perceive that Biddulpli had some motive for deferring the 
 time of laying tiie information before the police ; but, of 
 course, Mr. Biddulph must be responsible for the conse- 
 quences of this. 
 
 "There was only one thing, sir," he added, determined 
 to make this point clear. " If this delay should cause any 
 accident in tlie course of justice— say, if Mr. Malcolm Fra- 
 ser should get off before the police lay hold of him — I can- 
 not be held accountable." 
 
 " Certainly not. You have done your part, and you sliall 
 have your money. And now tell me, what is the surname 
 of your friend Rob, the faithful gillie who would not be- 
 tray his master ?" 
 
 " His name, sir — I ascertained all particulars this morn- 
 ing — is Robert Mackenzie ; the two brothers are Thomas 
 and Robert Mackenzie, and tlieir father and mother were 
 farm-servants with Mr. Fraser at Airdlinn, and they both 
 died together — about tlie same time, at least — of fever, and 
 Mr. and Mrs. Fraser of Airdlinn were very kind to these 
 two lads, and the younger one, Rob, has always been a 
 sort of attendant on the young laird since they were boys. 
 Tam is the one for the police to tackle, sir, so as to get tlie 
 whole story confirmed. The other, Rob, won't split on his 
 young master until he is forced to do so." 
 
 " A loyal heart ! And who is the old dame who enjoyed 
 her supper with them ?" 
 
 " Their grandmother, sir," answered Sandy, with a grin, 
 and wriggling himself on his chair in appreciation of Mr. 
 Biddulph's supposed joke. "And she's deaf as a post, ^ir, 
 and very old ; and Thomas — Tam is employed on Mr. 
 Alick Fraser's property as woodman, and the like ; and 
 Rob gets work at Inismore, too, occasionally. But he 
 spends the principal part of his time with young Mr. Mal- 
 colm Fraser on the hills ; but he'll do that no more ; " and 
 again Sandv grinned. 
 
 *' No," said Biddulph, briefly. " And now, Mr. Hill, will 
 you take some refreshment ? The night is waxing late." 
 
 Snndy took the hint. 
 
 " I'll go now, sir," he said, "and shall have the honor 
 of waiting on you again to-morrow at twelve o'clock pre- 
 cisely, bringing all necessary notes and information. And 
 since you are so obliging as to offer me a little refresh- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 "3 
 
 ment, sir, I'll not refuse a drop of whiskey, which I'll 
 make bold to ask your butler for as he lets me out. Good- 
 evening, Mr. Biddulph " — and Sandy bowed low- -"and I 
 wish to express to you, sir, the full satisfaction and grati- 
 fication that my visit has given me." 
 ** All right ; I'll expect you to-morrow. Good-night." 
 "Good-night, sir. My humble and grateful tiianks, sir. 
 Again good-night;" and with another bow Sandy was 
 gone. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A LATE VISITOR. 
 
 About half-past ten o'clock on the same evening that 
 Sandy Hill had visited Dunbaan, in Nora Stewart's draw- 
 iiis^-room at Rossmore two ladies were sitting, feeling de- 
 cidedly tired of each other's company. 
 
 They had been together all day, and the day had seemed 
 very long. Nora was charmingly dressed in a tea-gown 
 of pale bronze plush, lined and trimmed with very delicate 
 blue. She certainly looked a remarkably handsome wom- 
 an as she lay there, pretending to read behind her shaded 
 lamp, but she also looked a little wearied and disappointed. 
 She was disappointed ; she had fully expected that Bid- 
 dulph would have called during the afternoon, and she 
 had donned her new tea-gown in this expectation. And 
 now she was mentally blaming Mrs. Conwjiy-Hope because 
 he had not done so, and this made Nora feel rather una- 
 miable. 
 
 " We have not had one visitor to-day ; not even the doc- 
 tor!" presently said Mrs. Conwcy-Hope. 
 
 " No," answered Nora, somewhat abruptly. 
 
 " The scenery is certainly beautiful here in summer^'* 
 now said Mrs. Conway-Hope, putting aside her knitting 
 for the night; "but at this season one requires a little 
 more social intercourse than one can expect to find in the 
 Highlands. Have you decided yet, Nora, dear, n'hen yoq 
 start for town ? " 
 
 " I have not thought of it yet. Surely that was a ring?" 
 
 The two ladies listened, and a minute later Alfred, the 
 footman, came into the room with a card. 
 
 "Mr. Biddulph is in the hall, madam," he said, address- 
 
 
114 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 ing Nora, "and he wislics to know if he can see you for 
 a few moments, though he is sorry to disturb you so 
 late." 
 
 ''Certainly. Show him up," answered Nora. 
 
 "Shall I retire?" asked Mrs. Conway-Hope, with af- 
 fected jocoscness, for she had not the least intenuou of 
 going. 
 
 "Just as you like," said Nora, and the next moment 
 Biddulph was in the room. 
 
 He looked pale and grave, and went up straight to Nora's 
 couch and took her hand. 
 
 " How are you ?" he said ; "and will you forgive me for 
 coming at this unreasonable hour?" 
 
 " I — I thought you would come to-day," she answered, 
 with a pleased, bright look. 
 
 "How are you, Mr. Biddulpli?" said Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope, now going forward with her claw-like hand out- 
 stretched. " I must congratulate you." 
 
 "Thank you," said Biddulph, a little grimly, bowing 
 over hand, while Nora's face grew crimson. 
 
 "Our good friend, the doctor," continued Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope, quite playfully, "told us how everything passed off 
 yesterday satisfactorily. I know the sheriff." 
 
 "Then you know a very agreeable man," said Biddulph. 
 " Miss Stewart," he added, turning again to Nora. " I am 
 going to make a very unusual request ; but can I see you 
 alone for a few minutes, on business ?" 
 
 " I am in the way, then, it seems?" said Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope. " In that case I shall retire. Good-night, Mr. Bid- 
 dulph. I shall see >"(?//, Nora, my love, later on in your own 
 room I suppose?" and Mrs. Conway-Hope bowed and dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 " You will wonder why I have asked this," said Biddulph, 
 going up close to Nora, and speaking in a low and some- 
 what agitated voice. "Miss Stewart, I am sorry ; I fear I 
 bring you ill news." 
 
 "What?" said Nora, with a little start, and looking at 
 him eagerly. " Has anything happened to you ? " 
 
 "Not to mc ; but are you sure no one can hear us?" 
 And Biddulph hastily crossed the room and opened the 
 door, and as he did so there was a rush of a silk garment, 
 and someone made a very quick retreat up the stairs. 
 
 " I just fancied that lady was listening," he said, as he 
 went back to Nora's side ; "and what I've got to say none 
 but you and I must hear. You are fond of your cousin 
 
A STRAiYCR MESSAGE. 
 
 Ttk 
 
 Jock Fraserand his wife, are you not, Miss Stewart? Will 
 you try to save them from a terrible grief ?" 
 
 "A terrible grief ! Oh, Mr. Bicidulph, not surely about 
 that unhappy boy, Malcolm?" 
 
 Uiddulph's eyes fell. 
 
 *' Unhappily," he said, "about that most unhappy boy. 
 Miss Stewart, I have ccme to aslc you to do to-niglu what 
 ill the eyes of the law is wrong ; but for his mother's 
 sake " 
 
 " What has he done ? " asked Nora, growing very pale 
 as Biddulph paused. 
 
 For a moment he hesitated ; then he said slowly : 
 
 " What he allowed me to be suspected of doing ; Mai- 
 coltn Fraser's hand fired the shot that ki"':d poor Natalie 
 in the Glen of Balla." 
 
 " Malcolm I But what motive had he ? And Oh ! I 
 
 understand now ! Mi Biddulph, is this murder? " 
 
 *' It's an ugly word, but I fear there is no other name. 
 Motive ? Shall I tell you his motive ? He did not mean to 
 kill the poor woman, but to kill me." 
 
 "Oh, this is too dreadful ?" cried Nora, greatly agitated ; 
 and, forgetting her injured ankles in her great emotion, 
 she rose all trembling from her couch. But Biddulph 
 caught her hands and gently forced her back. 
 
 " Take care," he said. " Yes, it is dreadful, but you must 
 not excite yourself and make yourself ill ; 1 want you to 
 show all your courage to-night, for Mrs. Fraser's sake ?" 
 
 "Tell me about it. Tell me how do you know ? " asked 
 Nora, with heaving breast and parted lips. 
 
 " Do you know a lad named Rob Mackenzie — a gillie, an 
 attendant on young Malcolm ?" 
 
 " Yes, I know him well ; he has often been here. He is 
 devoted to Malcolm." 
 
 "And he has a brother?" ; 
 
 "Yes, and an old granddame. They live on this side of 
 the loch, because the elder brother is employed by Alick 
 Fraser. What have they to do with it ? Surely Rob Mac- 
 kenzie has not " 
 
 "Betrayed his master?" said Biddulph, with a sort of 
 smile. " No, the young Gael is true to the core. I offered 
 a thousand pounds for information that would lead to the 
 discovery of the man who killed yon poor soul in the glen, 
 and this lad knew this, and spoke no word. But -ti man 
 came to me to-night, another sort of a man, and sold the 
 secret. And now I will tell you th« story." 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
tl« 
 
 ^ *:7A'.t.\(7r. AfriSSACF., 
 
 'Dien Biddiilph told Nora what we already know — told 
 all the details which Sandy Hill's long cars had heard, and 
 Nora grew paler and paler as she listened. 
 
 •' Tlien this means," she said, grasping Hiddulph's liand 
 in her own cold trembling ones, "that — that Malcolm will 
 be arrested ; that it is murder ? " 
 
 "It means that Malcolm will be arrested, unless he can 
 get away." 
 
 •' And can this be done ?" said Nora, again starting up. 
 *' Oh, Mr. Biddulph, try and save him, though he has done 
 you this great wrong ! For my sake, for his mother's 
 sake." 
 
 " For your sake, and for his mother's sake, I have come 
 here to-night. I have thouglit it all over; the dreadful 
 consequences to that kindly household of this boy's mad- 
 ness — the mother's terrible grief ! I cannot help him being- 
 arrested if he stays in Scotland. The reward and the sher- 
 iff's reward also, is justly earned by this man ; but if we 
 can manage it, he will have twelve hours* start before the 
 information is lodged with the police. In these twelve 
 hours, Miss Stewart, he must fly." 
 
 "Oh, let us send for him now, then ; let me write ! " 
 
 " It wi'', I think, be best for you to send for him here. 
 Is there any one in your household on whom you can 
 really depend ?" 
 
 " I think on Alfred, the young footman." 
 
 "He looks an honesffellovv. Well, could Alfred row 
 across the loch alone to Airdlinn — it is a fine moonlight 
 night — and bring young Malcolm back with him? And 
 will you write a few urgent lines to him, telling him that 
 he must come, and he must never go back. I have brouglit 
 my check-book with me ; he will want money, and he must 
 go to America, Australia — out of the way, at least, and go 
 at (mc e, or nothing can save him." 
 
 " I will write. Will you reach me my desk ? Oh, what 
 am I to say?" asked Nora, who vvas terribly agitated. 
 
 "Tell him that you must see him at once ; that something 
 dreadful has happened, which makes this an absolute ne- 
 cessity. His conscience," added Biddulph, grimly, " will 
 perhaps make him guess your meaning. And do not tell 
 him I am here ; I would go for him myself, only I know 
 his fiery and uncontrollable nature might make him com- 
 mit some fresh act of violence and folly. But you can 
 influence him, for one thing. I give him some pity ; he 
 likes you too well;" and Biddulpii's voice faltered. 
 
A STUAXGE MESSAGE, 
 
 "r 
 
 " I wish I had never spoken to him. I looked upon him 
 ns a l)<)y, a brother." 
 
 '* I3ut lie did not look on you as a sister. Hut we must 
 not waste time. Will you write your letter, and I will go 
 and seek out Alfred, and make it worth his while to hold 
 his tongue ?" 
 
 " How — how good you arc !'' said Nora, her dark cyej 
 dim with tears. 
 
 •• Do you not think I would spare you an> pain ?" askcc 
 Diddulph, bending over her. "See, your paper is all 
 ready for you, oidy be sure to make your letter urgent 
 enough." 
 
 He placed the note-paper before her, and put tlie pen in 
 her trembling hand ; then he went to seek Alfred, and 
 came to a satisfactory arrangement with that young man. 
 
 •' Miss Stewart's cousin, young Mr. Malcolm Fraser, has 
 got into some trouble," he told Alfred, "and he must keep 
 out of the way for a while. You have to give Miss Stew- 
 jut's letter into his own hand and bring him here, and you 
 shall have twenty pounds for your trouble. But you are 
 not to tell him I have been here, as he and I do not get on 
 together ; and keep the boat ready for starting again when 
 you come back here with him. You must rov/ him down 
 the loch in time to catch the first train in the morn- 
 
 ing. 
 
 Alfred was quite agreeable, but thought he ought to 
 confide in Palmer (Nora's maid, and his sweetheart), but 
 was too /eliable to do this without leave. 
 
 "There is a young woman, sir," he said, an ingenuous 
 blush stealing over his comely counten.ince, " whom I 
 would like to mention it to before I go, if you have no 
 objection." 
 
 " I have the very greatest objection," answered Bid- 
 diilph, "and I can have no young woman mixed up in the 
 matter. The young woman will forgive you," he added, 
 witii a smile, " if you buy her a present with part of the 
 twenty pounds you are about to earn ;" and Alfred, per- 
 haps having some knowledge of the weakness of the fe- 
 male heart on the subject of pretty gifts, determined for 
 once to do something witiiout consulting his Palmer. 
 
 He left Biddulph to get the boat ready, and Biddulph 
 returned to Nora, who looked up anxiously from her let- 
 ter as he entered the room. 
 
 " I have written all that I dare," she said ; " will you 
 read it ? Have you seen Alfred ? Will he go ? " 
 
 ■'/•I -I 
 
 >!■. 
 
Its 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 " That is settled. No, I will not read your letter. You 
 have put it strongly enough, I hope ? " 
 
 " I have told him I know that he is in great danger ; 
 that he must come here at once." 
 
 " That will do. Now seal your letter, and I will take it 
 down to Alfred at the boat-house. He is a smart young 
 fellow that." 
 
 Nora made no answer ; she was cold, pale, and trem- 
 bling. The whole thing seemed too frightful to be true, 
 and yet she knew that it was true. 
 
 The letter was soon ready, and soon, also, Alfred was 
 rowing as noiselessly as possible from the little pier below 
 the house at Rossmore. Biddulph stood and watched him 
 go out of the shadows on to the broad breast of the loch, 
 where the moonbeams lay cradled on the dark tide. It 
 was so btill that each dip of the oars was heard with re- 
 markable distinctness ; and as Biddulph's eyes followed 
 the lessening boat, he thought sadly enough of the blight 
 its errand was about to cast on the once happy household 
 at Airdlinn. 
 
 'And I suppose they will think I have brought this 
 upon them," he reflected, gloomily. ** Strange ! had I 
 never come to Dunbaan, this mad boy might have lived 
 to be an honored man. But there it is. Our actions draw 
 others down sometimes like a quicksand, and we cannot 
 save them. All tl ~t is left for him now is to go away and 
 never to return." 
 
 Then he remembered Nora's natural anxiety and dis- 
 tress, and went back to her, and found her looking so 
 white and ill, he was greatly touched. He pulled her 
 touch close to the fire, he stirred it, knelt down on the 
 hearth to try to make it burn more brightly, and looked 
 up with much feeling at her pale face. 
 
 " I seem to bring nothing but trouble to you all." he 
 said. 
 
 '' Oh, do not say that ! " she answered, trying to sup- 
 press her tears. "'But for you I could not bear this." 
 
 He took her hand, kneeling there with the firelight fall- 
 ing on his grave, handsome features and gray, sombre 
 eyes. 
 
 " We can't help ourselves, Nora," he said, sadly. •* I did 
 not mean to blight the life of this poor lad, nor stain his 
 mother's cheeks v/ith tears. I would willingly bring evil 
 on none, yet I have brought it— and not only on him ; " 
 and the shadows deepened on his face. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 Tig 
 
 5r. You 
 
 danger ; 
 
 |ll take it 
 rt young 
 
 id trem- 
 be true, 
 
 red was 
 er beiow 
 hed him 
 he loch, 
 tide. It 
 with re- 
 followed 
 e blight 
 iusehold 
 
 Jght this 
 ; ! had I 
 ive lived 
 ons draw 
 2 cannot 
 way and 
 
 and dis- 
 'king so 
 lied her 
 
 on the 
 
 looked 
 
 all," he 
 
 to sup- 
 is." 
 
 jhtfall- 
 sombre 
 
 •; I did 
 ain his 
 ng evil 
 
 him ; " 
 
 *' It is through no fault of yours." 
 
 "I have been wondering about this, Nora — but may I 
 call you Nora now, when we- are drawn so close by this 
 great trouble ? " 
 
 "Yes ; always call me Nora," she answered, with falter- 
 ing lips, and her hjind trembled in Biddulph's. 
 
 tie felt this ; he looked at her, and a wave of deep, 
 yearning love swept over his heart. 
 
 " I must not say what I would say," he murmured, and 
 he bent his dark head down, and laid his lips upon her 
 hand. ** Say you forgive me, then, the ill I have brought 
 on your young cousin. Oh, Nora, but I pray not on 
 you ! 
 
 " I owe my life to you. Why do you talk thus ? " " 
 
 " Because I know I was selfish. I had not strength to 
 tear myself away when I knew I had no right to linger by 
 your side. You knew this, did you not ? You gave some 
 pity to my weakness ? " 
 
 Nora did not speak ; and he knelt there still, clasping 
 both her hands. 
 
 But suddenly she remembered Malcolm Fraser and she 
 pushed him away. 
 
 ** Oh, don't let us forget that poor bo}"," she said, " and 
 his dreadful danger ! You had better go away ; it would 
 only madden him to find you here." 
 
 " Yes," said Biddulph, and he rose. " But I won't leave 
 Rossmore until he is gone ; I dare not trust you with him 
 without help near. Ihese windows look straight down on 
 the steep to the loch, don't they ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then, I'll go now, and wait among the firs there, and 
 if you open one of these windows and call I shall hear 
 you. I shall be quite out of young Malcolm's way there, 
 and I shall feel happier if I am near you. And about 
 money ; I will give you a check for any amount you think 
 he will require." 
 
 " No, for he would see your name on it. I have thought 
 about that. Luckily I got some money the other day ; I 
 have nearly a hundred pounds he'-e ;" and she opened her 
 desk. 
 
 They made up a hundred pounds between them; and 
 then Biddulph, looking out, saw the boat returning across 
 the water from Airdlinn. , , 
 
 " Is he there ? " asked Nora, eagerly. 
 
 **Yes, there are two figures in the boat. Nora, I had 
 
 l^m^ 
 
I20 
 
 A STKAIVGE MESSAGE. 
 
 better ^^o now, but do not forget that I am near you in case 
 of need ; but if he goes quietly away, 1 shall not see you 
 
 asrain to-night." 
 
 She clasped his liand without speaking ; she looked into 
 his face as if to gain strength from his calmness. 
 
 *'Good-by," he said, almost in a whisper; and he bent 
 down and kissed each small, cold, trembling palm in 
 
 and the next moment he was 
 
 turn. 
 
 Take 
 
 courage ; 
 
 gone. 
 
 Nora never forgot what she felt as she waited there dur- 
 ing the next few minutes, to break to her young cousin 
 the terrible fate he liad brought on his own head. She 
 never forgot when he entered, p^le and agitated, with a 
 look in his blue eyes she had never seen there before — a 
 look of dread, as if some haunting and pursuing fear were 
 always near him. 
 
 "What is it ?" he asked, as he went up to her and took 
 her chill hand. "You sent for me. What is the mat- 
 ter?" 
 
 Then Nora rose, pale, almost staggering- ; she opened 
 her white lips ; she paused for words. 
 
 "Don't, for heaven's sake, look like that ! What on earth 
 is it ? Do speak, Nora ! " 
 
 "Malcolm," she answered, tremblingly and falteringly, 
 "you must fly to-nii:^ht ; you must go now. Your mad 
 deed in the Glen of Balla is known ; there is no safety for 
 you here." 
 
 He started back as if she had struck him, and every par- 
 ticle of color faded out of his face. 
 
 "Who says this ?" he asked, in a hoarse voice. "What 
 have I to do with this ? " 
 
 "God's eye saw you fire the shot, Malcolm, the blame 
 of which you allowed to rest on an innocent man. Do not 
 deny it — it is known ; there are witnesses coming forward 
 against you, and all that is left for you now is to fly." 
 
 He did not speak for a moment ; he sank back on a chair 
 as though utterly overwhelmed ; he covered his face with 
 his hand. 
 
 " I have money ready for you," went on Nora, eagerly, 
 " and you must go straight from here, and Alfred will row 
 you down the loch to the station, and you must catch the 
 first train that passes, and make your way direct to some 
 port. You must not delay an hour. Go to Liverpool, that 
 will be best, and start in some outward-bound steamer. 
 Wherever you go I will send you monev. Here is a hun- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 121 
 
 >u in case 
 see you 
 
 >ked into 
 
 he bent 
 Ipalm in 
 he was 
 
 ere dur- 
 cousin 
 
 d. She 
 , with a 
 efore—- a 
 Jar were 
 
 nd took 
 iie mat- 
 opened 
 >n earth 
 
 Jringly, 
 Lir mad 
 fety for 
 
 ry par- 
 
 ' What 
 
 blame 
 )o not 
 rvvard 
 
 chair 
 ( with 
 
 rerly. 
 I row 
 1 the 
 5ome 
 that 
 men 
 hun« 
 
 dred pounds, Malcolm ; do not waste the time now, when it 
 is so precious, in useless regret." 
 
 Then he looked up, and his face seemed to have turned 
 suddenly haggard. 
 
 " Rob Mackenzie has betrayed this, then," he said, in a 
 changed voice. 
 
 "No ; but the horror of ihat dreadful scene haunted the 
 poor lad, and he rambled about it in his sleep, and his 
 brother listened. And when they were talking of it, an- 
 other listener crept, under the shadow of night, close to 
 their little cottage walls — you know what a poor place it 
 is — and tiiis man heard the whole story, and, for the sake 
 of the reward, carried it to Mr. Biddulph." 
 
 Malcolm F'raser started to his feet with a fierce oath. 
 
 ^^ What ! he's in it, then, is he? The man who has 
 blasted my whole life ! " 
 
 " Yet he came here to-night to try to save you ; know- 
 ing, too, that it was his life, and not the poor life you did 
 take, that you tried to destroy when you fired that fatal 
 shot. Malcolm, you have wronged Mr. Biddulph, as few 
 men have wronged another, for you let the blame of 
 your sin fall upon him, and yet he has done you no 
 injury." 
 
 "iVi? injury !" repeated the unhappy young man, in atone 
 of such intense misery and passion that his words seemed 
 to pierce Nora's heart. '* Is it no injury, then, to destroy 
 every hope, every joy of a human life ? Nora, this is what 
 this man has done for me. You knew well I loved you — 
 loved the very ground you trod on, and have kissed your 
 shadow a hundred times as it fell upon the grass. Is all 
 this nothing? From the time I knew what love was, I 
 have loved you, and then this Biddulph came between us — 
 he a married man ! " 
 
 " But, Malcolm, you are mistaken ; Mr. Biddulph never 
 sought me in that way — he never " 
 
 "Oh, I know!" interrupted Malcolm Fraser, bitterly, 
 as Nora hesitated ; " he did not ask you to m?\rry him, I 
 dare say, because he could not, but for all that he tried to 
 steal, and did steal, your heart away from me ! Do you 
 think I am blind ? And I grew mad. I sent him a chal- 
 lenge, and the coward would not go to France to fight 
 like a man ; so, I will not deny it — I meant to shoot him 
 like a dog!" 
 
 '*Hush, hush! do not talk thus. Malcolm, yo^ arq 
 wasting time. Have you no thought for your mother, arid 
 
 i '» 
 
 
 >?.'•.' 
 W 
 
1 2a 
 
 A STRAXGE MESSAGE. 
 
 hci" terrible grief if anything were to happen to her only 
 son ? Ikrc is the money ; tai^e it a.-d then go quietly 
 away. Voii can always write to me here or in town, and 
 yon can iiave more money whenever you want it, only do 
 not delay." 
 
 *' I lave you no pity for me ? " he presently asked, sianql- 
 iiitjr before her with his blue eyes fixed on her face 
 vvitii stiani^e wistfulness — " none for my wasted love and 
 wrecked life ?" 
 
 *' Yes — yes, I have," answered Nora ; and she held out 
 boLJi her hands, and her tears fell fast. 
 
 " Kiss me, then, once," he said, in broken accents; " kiss 
 nie before I g(j." 
 
 She bent he. head forward and kissed him, and he sank 
 down upon his knees. 
 
 « Porjrivc nil ; and, Nora, kiss my mother for me ; tell 
 her " — and a sob choked his voice — '* tell her not to sfrieve. 
 If I live I shall see her again — and you, too, my one and 
 only love !" 
 
 He left her a few moments later, and Nora, utterly over- 
 come, tottered to tiie window and watched the moonlit 
 water. And presently a boat shot out from the siiadows 
 and glided on througli the silver tide. It was bearing her 
 young cousin into exile ; bearing far away from kith and 
 kin the licry, passionate heart that had loved her too well. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 .'- h- 
 
 THE MOTHER S GRIEF. 
 
 The next morning Nora awoke, with a confused sense 
 of anxiety and uneasiness, from disturbed and painful 
 dreams. She started up, she rubbed her eyes, and then 
 she remembered— remembered the last look on Malcolm's 
 face as he turned to leave her, his message to his mother, 
 and the bitter task that lay before herself to-day. 
 
 And scarcely w^as she dressed when this was forced 
 upon )ier. Siie had not, indeed, left her bedroom when 
 Palmer entered, carrying a message from Mrs. Fraser, of 
 Airdlinn, wiio was below, and wislied to know if she 
 miolu eome ipstairs and speak to Nora at once. 
 
 Nora could not quite hide her agitation from Palmer's 
 Vjuick eyej} ^a she listened to this request. It was, of 
 
A STRAi\GE MESSAGE. 
 
 "3 
 
 course, very well known in the household that something 
 unusual had been going on late last night — Mr. Biddulpli's 
 lute arrival — Alfred's mysterious disappearance, for he 
 had only returned at dawn, and would give no further ac- 
 count of himself, except that Miss Stewart had sent him 
 on a message. 
 
 Palmer was highly offended by this reticence, and had 
 scarcely spoken to Alfred at breakfast ; but the young 
 man, having the pleasing knowledge that he was the 
 happy possessor of twenty pounds, part of which he 
 meant to spend on a present for his sweetheart, had borne 
 her coldness so amiably, that Palmer thought it was quite 
 time she was making up to him again. 
 
 Still Palmer was intensely curious to know what it was 
 all about ; and Mrs. Conway-Hope was more, if possible, 
 curious still. 
 
 Therefore Palmer noted how, with quickened breath 
 and paling cheeks, her young mistress heard that Mrs. 
 Fraser was below, and wished at once to see her. And 
 Nora felt she could not refuse this request. This poor 
 mother must hear the terrible news' before the day was 
 over, and it was best to break it to her now. Therefoie 
 Nora bade Palmer to bring Mrs. Fraser upstairs, and a 
 few minutes later Mrs. Jock entered, looking fresh, smil- 
 ing, and well. 
 
 "How are you, my dear?" she said, going up to Nora 
 and kissing her face in her kind, motherly way. 
 
 Nora often thought afterward how Mrs. Jock looked at 
 this moment — so rosy, so happy, a matron in her comely 
 prime, with her eyes, blue as poor Malcolm's, brimful of 
 content and good-nature, 
 
 "I'm not feeling very well," hesitrtted Nora, with her 
 eyes cast down. 
 
 " My poor child, I am sorry for that. But it's nothing 
 serious, I hope ?" 
 
 "Oh no." 
 
 " That's all right, then ; Nora, my dear, what have you 
 done with my boy ? I never was so astonished in my life 
 when the house-maid told me this morning that last night, 
 after Jock and I had retired to bed, that Alfred had ar- 
 rived with a letter from you for Malcolm, and that Mal- 
 colm went back with him to Rossmore in the boat. Did 
 he stay all night here, or go to his uncle Alick's." 
 
 " He did not stay here," faltered Nora. 
 
 "Then he's at uncle Alick's. Jock felt a bit uneasy 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 
"4 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 about him, as Malcolm has not been looking well lately, 
 so he proposed as soon as breakfast was over this morn- 
 ing, that we should cross the water and inquire about him. 
 Hut I told Jock he was quite safe in your hands ; " and 
 Mrs. Jock laughed. 
 
 Poor Nora's task seemed to be growing more difficult 
 every moment. She turned away her head; she gave a 
 little gasping sigh, and the mother's quick ears of love 
 heard it. 
 
 "There is nothing the matter, is there?" she a^ked, 
 sharply — " nothing with Malcolm ?" 
 
 Upon this Nora caught her large firm hand in her own 
 cold, trembling one. 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Frascr," she said, *' I — I sent for Malcolm 
 last nigiit because he has got into some trouble — because 
 just now he is better away." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 Mrs. Jock's voice was almost stern as she asked this 
 question, and she fixed her eyes on Nora's changing face 
 with some suspicion in her glance. 
 
 " It is terrible to ftic to have to tell you," went on Nora, 
 "most terrible, but, Mrs. Frascr, it was Malcolm who 
 fired the shot, who killcvl that unhappy woman in the glen." 
 
 ^'MaUohnl" cried Mrs. Fraser, a sudden flush passing 
 over her face, and pushing Nora's clinging hand away in 
 her quick asi^itation. " I don't believe a word of it. Who 
 has been telling you this, Nora Stewart?" 
 
 '* It is only too true, Mrs. Fraser — only tQO true," an- 
 swered Nora, turning away her head, and her eyes filling 
 with tears. " This is a bitter task to me, but you must 
 know, and Malcolm, I hope, is safe. By this time he is 
 far away." 
 
 '* What do you mean ? I ask you, what do you mean ? 
 You have not sent the boy away, have you, to hide himself, 
 as if he had done some dreadful wrong? Where is he? 
 I ask you, what have you done with my son ?" 
 
 •'Mrs. Fraser, last night news was brought me, such 
 news it almost broke my heart. I was told — it is no in- 
 vention — tliat the woman's death in the glen had been 
 traced to Malcolm, and that to-day this information would 
 be given to tlie police, and Malcolm would be arrested." 
 It is an invention !" answered Mrs. Fraser, with strong 
 '* What had Malcolm to do with this 
 Nothing! A 
 th« wife of another man ?" 
 
 indii^nation 
 woman ? 
 
 ^ . *-. woman he never saw — a woman, 
 
A STRAXGE MESSAGE, 
 
 MS 
 
 ** It was by accident he killed her ; but- 
 
 " Then why did you send him away ? Why did you not 
 let him f -e any inquiry that could be made ? My boy 
 would speak Mie truth ; if he shot the woman by accident, 
 he is not one to deny it." 
 
 Nora's distress was now very great. It seemed too 
 dreadful to destroy the poor mother's proud confidence 
 in her darling son. 
 
 " Where is Jock ? " said Nora, greatly agitated. <* We 
 had better send for him." 
 
 ** He is at Alick Eraser's. Yes, send for his father ; and 
 Jock will tell you, as I do, that we have not taught our 
 boy to run away and hide himself, whatever he has 
 done." 
 
 Nora rang the bell, and sent Alfred for Jock Eraser; 
 and in the meanwhile Mrs. Fraser continued in a state of 
 strong excitement and indignation. She began walking 
 up and down the room, glancing occasionally angrily at 
 Nora. 
 
 " I suppose," she said, presently, " that Mr. Biddulph is 
 at the bottom of all this ? He wants to shift suspicion 
 from his own shoulders to those of my boy." 
 
 Nora did not speak. This was too unjust, she felt ; but 
 her heart was so full of pity for the unhappy mother that 
 she could not resent it. 
 
 " This man has brought nothing but mischief and 
 trouble," \Yent on Mrs. Jock. " But if he thinks he can 
 make a scape-goat of poor Malcolm, he shall find he is 
 mistaken. Did you hear this story of him, Nora ? I will 
 hear the truth." 
 
 "Wait till Cousin Jock comes," said Nora, gently ; " I 
 can tell him better than I can tell you." 
 
 "Why? Am I not his mother ? Is his honor not mine? 
 Answer me, Nora Stewart, is it this man Biddulph who 
 has been blackening Malcolm's name ?" 
 
 " No, it is not," answered Nora, lifting her dark eyes to 
 Mrs. Eraser's indignant face. " Mr. Biddulph has acted 
 in this matter, as he always does, with the greatest con- 
 sideration and kindness." 
 
 " You think no one is like him, that is the truth ! But 
 here comes Jock ! Jock," she added, going up to her 
 husband, who at this moment rapped at the room door, 
 "come in, and hear what Nora Stewart has got to tell us. 
 She says Malcolm — our Malcolm — killed that woman in the 
 glen!" 
 
 ill I 
 
 
.126 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 Jock Frascr's brown f.irc grew pale at these words, and 
 n look of fear came into his brown eyes. 
 
 " Malcolm?" he repeated, looking first at his wife, and 
 then at Nora. 
 
 " Yes, our dear boy ; and she has got him to go away 
 — to hide himself, instead of facing such a lie like a 
 man." 
 
 ** What is this, Nora ? " now asked Jock Fraser, still with 
 that look of uneasiness on his face. 
 
 " Oh, Jock, all this is dreadful for me ! " answered Nora, 
 taking her half-cousin's hand in lier own. "But — but I 
 acted for the best ; when you hear the whole story, you 
 will think I acted for the best." 
 
 "Where is Malcolm ?" said Jock Fraser. 
 
 '• Far away from here, I hope, Jock. Do you know a 
 man named Sandford Hill — a man somehow connected 
 with your brother Alick ?" 
 
 " Of course I do. Sandy Hill — why, he is Alick's clerk 
 at Glasgow." 
 
 " He has been down here, then," continued Nora ; " and 
 when he heard of the reward that Mr. Biddulph and the 
 sherifT offered at the inquiry at Balla, for information that 
 would lead to the arrest of the person who killed that 
 woman in the glen, he went about spying and listening, 
 as far as I can make out, and he heard Rob Mackenzie 
 talking to his brother." 
 
 " Rob Mackenzie ! " exclaimed Jock Fraser, with a 
 scared face. 
 
 "Yes, the poor lad was talking to his brother, and meant 
 no harm. Nay, this wretch overheard him say he would 
 die, or something like that, before he would betray Mal- 
 colm. But these words made this Hill suspicious, and he 
 followed the two Mackenzies to their cottage, and he lis- 
 tened, and, oh, Jock, lie overheard the whole story, and — 
 and he is going to give information io the police to-day!" 
 
 " Oh, my poor boy ! " cried Jock Fraser, much over- 
 come. " Jeanie, my poor Jeanie ! " and he went up to his 
 wife, and took her in his arms. 
 
 But Mrs. Jock pushed him away. 
 
 "And even if this were so," she said, trembling with 
 excitement— "even if this wretch did pretend to hear the 
 boys Rob and Tam Mackenzie talking, why should we be- 
 lieve him ? It is for the sake of the reward he has got up 
 this story, and Malcolm must come back and face it." 
 
 "And you told Malcolm, Nora?" asked Jock Fraser, 
 
^! STRAJVGE MESSAGE, 
 
 127 
 
 t'ords, and 
 
 wife, and 
 
 go away 
 le like a 
 
 still with 
 
 red Nora, 
 t— but I 
 :oO', you 
 
 know a 
 onnected 
 
 k's clerk 
 
 a; "and 
 and the 
 ion that 
 led that 
 stening, 
 ickenzie 
 
 with a 
 
 :! meant 
 ; would 
 ly Mal- 
 and he 
 he lis- 
 , and— 
 -day ! " 
 1 over- 
 ) to his 
 
 X with 
 ar the 
 ;ve be- 
 ifot up 
 
 who was very pnie. ** You sent for him last night, and 
 told him what you are now tellinn; us ?" 
 
 "Yes, I sent for him and told him. Mr, Biddulph came 
 here about half-past ten. This Mill had just left him, and 
 Mr. Biddulph persuaded Hill not to lay the information 
 before the police until the afternoon of to-day. Then he 
 came here and told me ; he wanted to give Malcolm a 
 start, and — and I sent for Malcolm, and he confessed it 
 was all true, and went away." 
 
 As Mrs. Fraser listened to these words, a cry broke from 
 lier whitening lips. 
 
 " He confessed ! What did he confess ? " she asked, 
 wildly. ** He did not mean to do this — say he did not 
 mean to do this, Nora Stewart, or I will strike you where 
 you stand ! " 
 
 But Jock Fraser caught the uplifted arm of the mad- 
 dened woman. 
 
 " Hush, Jeanie ! do not talk thus, and to Nora," he said. 
 "I am sure Nora would mean nothing but kindness to 
 Malcolm — you know that. But if the poor lad shot this 
 woman by accident, it was foolish of him to go away." 
 
 "Jock, take Jeanie out of the room for a few minutes," 
 said Nora, almost faintly, "and then you come back .") 
 me. I — I should rather see you alone." 
 
 "Very well. Come along, Jeanie, my dear; and then 
 Nora and I will have a talk together, and see what it will 
 he best to do," answered Jock Fraser, taking his wife's 
 Iiand and leading her to the door. And Mrs. Fraser did 
 not refuse to go ; she looked half bewildered, and tottered 
 ns she went. 
 
 Her husband led her gently outside, and down the cor- 
 ridor from Nora's room. Half-way down the corridor there 
 was a couch and Mrs. Fraser sank wearily down on this. 
 
 " Leave me here ; but promise me, Jock " — and she 
 seized his hand — "to tell me all she has got to say." 
 
 "Of course, my dear ; and Jeanie," he whispered, bend- 
 ing over her, "pull yourself together a bit, for fear any of 
 tii'e servants come past here. For the lad's sake, don't let 
 anyone see you are put out." 
 
 She nodded her head and sat there, still and cold, while 
 Jock Fraser returned to Nora, who had been nerving her- 
 self to tell him the whole truth. 
 
 "Now, Nora," said Jock, after he had shut the door be- 
 hind him, " let me hear it all my dear. Whatever the lad 
 has done, it is better that I should know." 
 
 ■I H 
 
 
 
 
 1 .1 
 
laS 
 
 A strajVGE message. 
 
 So Nora told him, Jincl Jock Fraser listened, In unmis- 
 takable emotion ; and when he heard that his boy, the 
 handsome youth of wl.om he had been so proud, had de- 
 liberately tried to siioot Biddulph, he groaned aloud, and 
 covered his face with his hand. 
 
 "This is terrible," he said ; "it will kill his mother!" 
 
 " But he will be safe. They will never find him now; 
 he will be out of England to-night, before anything can be 
 done." 
 
 "Safe!" repeated Jock Fraser, bitterly ; "a hunted felon! 
 And what are we much better," he added, "to let him go ? 
 I should rather have died — aye, a hundred deaths — than 
 seen the old name dragged so low ! " 
 
 "Oh, dear Jock, take comfor';!" said Nora, whose own 
 eyes were full of tears, laying her hand on her half-cousin's 
 arm. 
 
 "Comfort! What comfort is there for us anymore? 
 Jeanie and I will never lift up our heads again.*' 
 
 And what could Nora say 1 To an honorable, upright 
 man like Jock Fraser, this blow was, as he said, more bit- 
 ter than death. But presently, with pitying tenderness, 
 he remembered his wife. 
 
 " I'll get her home before I tell her," he muttered, "and 
 before these fellows come to seek him. Nora Stewart" — 
 and he rung her hand — "a broken-hearted man's blessing 
 won't do you any good, I suppose, my dear, but still you 
 have mine. Thank you for getting him away. Tt — it 
 would have been worse for Jeanie if he had stayed ! " and 
 Jock Fraser put his hand over his face to hide his tears. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE BLOW FALLS. 
 
 The same morning, as the clock was striking twelve in 
 the hall at Dunbaan, a ring sounded at the house-door, and 
 when old Donald opened it there stood Sandy Hill, spruce, 
 dapper, with a brown paper parcel under his arm, and a 
 smile of satisfaction on his face. 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph at home ?" he inquired, affably. 
 
 " Yes, sir." ^ 
 
 "Take in my card, then, please— Mr. Sandford Hill. He 
 expects me ; " and, old Donald having complied with his 
 
 ..^—.4. 
 
A STRAXGE MESSAGE. 
 
 IS9 
 
 request, Mr. Biddulph received his card with a grim smile, 
 and then looked at Ids own watch, which was one minute 
 slow, tfierefore lie thought Sandy was before his time. 
 
 *' Sharp man of business," reflected Biddulph. "Show 
 hitn in," he said ; and a minute later Sandy, with a pro- 
 found bow and a sliuffle, was ushered in. 
 
 " Fine morning, sir," he said, "but seasonable. I'm up 
 to time, I expect, Mr. Biddulph?" 
 
 "You don't allow the thief procrastination to steal it 
 from you, then ?" answered Biddulpli, witii a smile. 
 
 " No, Mr. Biddulph, I may candidly say I do not. Time 
 means money gained or wasted, to my mind, and " 
 
 "You like to gain it?" interrupted Biddulph, as Sandy 
 paused a moment, remembering his errand at Dunbaan. 
 
 " I do, sir ; it gives a man self-respect — confidence, I 
 may say. A poor man — I mean one regularly down, you 
 know — always inspires me with a wish to get out of his 
 company somehovv as quick as I can ; I cap't help it." 
 
 "A very natural inspiration," laughed Biddulph. 
 
 " It shows to me that he is a poor creature," continued 
 Sandy, warming with his subject; "there's always a way 
 for a fellow to get on if he has only the sense to find the 
 right road." 
 
 "'The world's mine oyster,"* quoted Biddulph. 
 
 "Well, sir, I don't know about oysters," replied Sandy, 
 whose early education had been sor ewhat neglected ; 
 " oysters are riither out* of my line — they are too expen- 
 sive, that's the fact, and I never pamper the inward man. 
 But I repeat, sir, a fellow can make his way if he uses his 
 eyes." 
 
 "And his ears, too, sometimes, eh, Mr. Hill ?" 
 
 Sandy burst into a giggle, and grinned all over. 
 
 " Very good, sir," he said — " quite apropos." 
 
 "Yes, it's very good," answered Biddulph, with pre- 
 tended gravity, " and, as you say, quite to the point." 
 
 ' You are a humorist, sir — a great deal of dry humor," 
 said Sandy, flatteringly. 
 
 " I am glad you think so, though I have neglected both 
 my eyes and my ears." 
 
 Sandy was not the least oflended ; he grinned even more 
 delightedly than ever. 
 
 "You were born to money, sir," he said, "and that 
 makes all the difference. I've had to find it as best I can, 
 and therefore am obliged to use my faculties to the ut- 
 most." 
 
 
 ,v 
 
130 
 
 /f STKAXaH MESSAGE. 
 
 " But you rather like the amateur detective business, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 ** I iiUe the r<r7r^r^, sir," answered Sandy, so promptly 
 that Biddulph laughed aluud, and put his iiancl into liis 
 pocket and drciv out liis note-book. 
 
 " Vour answer," lie said, "is quite as you remarked 
 before, Mr. Hill, <i propos. Well, here is your check — 
 you will find it all liglit, and I am very much obliged to 
 you for having removed an ugly and unjust suspicion from 
 my name." 
 
 Sandy rose and made his best bow, holding the check 
 in his eager trembling hand. 
 
 "Mr. Biddulph — sir," he said, ** I have only done my 
 duty — an unpleasant duty, in one sense, sir, considering 
 my connection with Mr. Alick Eraser, .and the feelings of 
 the family. Hut we mustn't consider these things, sir. 
 I may say I look upon this almost as a public duty, the 
 removal of an unjust suspicion from a gentleman of your 
 property and means — yes, sir, // is a public duty," con- 
 tinued Sandy, waxing eloquent ; "and the police, Mr. 
 Biddulph, I consider a set of duffers." 
 
 " Duffers to you, at any rate, Mr. Hiil." * 'V 
 
 Again Sandy bowed. 
 
 "I thank you, sir; and I repeat, Mr. Biddulph, if you 
 should ever feel inclined to dabble in business, sir, shares 
 or the like, if you honor me with your confidence, I'm 
 your man. I am punctual, straightforward, and always 
 have my weather eye open ; therefore, if you have any 
 spare cash, the amount of which you would like to increase^ 
 drop me a line, sir. and I will ..: once let you feel the 
 pulse of the market." 
 
 " You are very good." 
 
 " It will be a pleasure to me, Mr. Biddulph ; but I will 
 send you my business card the moment I have fixed on my 
 new offices. I mean to start on my own account at once ;" 
 and Sandy clutched his check still tighter. 
 
 " Pray send me your card." -: 
 
 " I will, sir ; and now, Mr. Biddulph, if you will excuse 
 me, I will wish you a very good-morning. And I shall, 
 with your permission, proceed without delay to place these 
 d()cuments"— and he tapped his brown paper parcel — 
 " in the hands of the countv police." 
 
 But have some lunch first, Mr. Hill," said Bidduloh, 
 who felt an unaccountable wish to delay Sandy's mission. 
 
 All the morning he had been thinking of poor Mrs. 
 
 Fras( 
 hoinel 
 fain ll 
 Hu 
 
 (t 
 
A STKANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 »3« 
 
 Frnser, and the terrible blow about to fall on a happy 
 home ; and now, wlicii it was creeping nearer, he would 
 fiiin have put off the evil hour. 
 
 But Sandy was proof aj:^aiust all temptations. 
 
 " No, sir ; many tli;uiks all the same, but ruy motto is, 
 business first, and pleasure afterward. I shall, therefore, 
 go at once, and catch the inspector when he comes in for 
 his dinner at one o'clock. Good-morning, sir ; you shall 
 h.,ar from me soon «again, and in the meanwhile, I remain 
 your grateful and obedient servant, Sandford Hill ;" and 
 with another boW Sandy vanished. 
 
 Biddulph looked after him with a sigh. 
 
 "Happy dog," he thought, "with a heart of stone en- 
 closed in a hide of a rhinoceros. These are the fellows 
 who swim clear ; no bumping up for them against rocks 
 and shoals of passions and feelings. Yet there is some- 
 thing honest in his pure selfishness and open desire to 
 make his way up in the world. Ilis master, Alick Fraser, 
 is just as hard and cold ; but he hides it better, or thinks 
 he does. But I wish I could have spared all this to the 
 genial Jock." 
 
 But the day did not close before the blow fell on the 
 miserable hcjusehold at Airdlinn. Jock Fraser had, with 
 some difficulty, persuaded his wife to go home without 
 again seeing Nora and without hearing any further details 
 of the horrible truth. But when she did reach home she 
 would not be refused, and at last Jock, in broken and fal- 
 tering words, tried to make her understand. 
 
 But Mrs. Fraser would not believe it. She stood there 
 with erect form and flashing eyes, fighting the battle for 
 her absent son. 
 
 " Send for Rob Mackenzie," she said ; " let the boy 
 come here, and see if he dare repeat this base lie before 
 Malcolm's mother." 
 
 " My poor Jeanie, it's no use," answered Jock, with a 
 groan ; " if Malcolm's hands were clear, why did he go 
 iiway ? And, Jeanie, I haven't told you, for God knows I 
 never distress you when I can help it ; but I've been 
 uneasy about Malcolm ever since that woman was shot in 
 the glen. I haven't liked the looks of the lad. I've had 
 a sort of presentiment, I think, that he had something to 
 do with it, for I knew that Rob and he were out on the 
 hills that day." 
 
 " And what are you going to do ? Sit down and let a 
 foul suspicion fall on him without trying to clear it up ? " 
 
 
 'mi 
 
«3» 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 "My dear, best let us see what they do ; the longer this 
 is kept quiet, the better it is for Malcolm now." 
 
 And before it was dark they knew at Airdlinn what 
 "tliey" were going to do. Jock was sitting with bent 
 head over the breakfast-room fire, and Mrs. Jock walking 
 upanddownin uncontrollable agitation in her bedroom, 
 wiien a ring came to the liouse-door bell, which caused the 
 hearts of both parents almost to stand still. 
 
 Then the liouse-maid came and told Jock that " some of 
 the pollis are here," and wanted to speak to him ; and with 
 blanched face he rose and went into the hall to face the ac- 
 cusers of his son. 
 
 The same inspector who had examined the footprints 
 in the Glen of Balla, immediately after the woman's 
 death had occurred tliere, now stood before Jock Fraser, 
 and respectfully touched his helmet as he appeared. 
 
 " Vera sorry to ha' to come here on such an errand, Mr. 
 Fraser," he said, in his broad Scotch accent, and with a 
 genuine look <jf sorrow on his honest face ; " but fra in- 
 formation received, I'm bound to do it." 
 
 Then the agonized father had to hear again the same 
 miserable story that he had listened to in the morning 
 from Nora's lips. Sandy had lost no time and the police 
 had lost no time ; and Tarn Mackenzie, on pressure, had 
 admitted the truth of Sandy's story. 
 
 But Rob Mackenzie was not to be found. Still, on the 
 strength of Mr. Sandford Hill's information, and Tam Mac- 
 kenzie's confirmation of the story, a warrant had been al- 
 ready issued for the arrest of Malcolm Fraser, aiid the po- 
 lice had arrived at Airdlinn to seek him. 
 
 Jock Fraser, on hearing this, behaved with considerable 
 firmness. 
 
 "Tills is an extraordinary story, Mr. Andrews," he said, 
 addressing the head constable ; "but my son Malcolm is 
 not here to answer your charge. He left for London last 
 niglit." 
 
 *' Tiien, I suppose he got scent of this ? '* 
 
 " That 1 caniiut say ; but he is certainly not here," replied 
 Jock Fraser. 
 
 The police consulted together for a few minutes, and 
 then announced that they would be compelled to search 
 the house. 
 
 "All right; do your duty," answered Jock; and he 
 turned away, going straight to his wife's bedroom, who 
 was standing in a state of almost distraction. 
 
A STRANGE MBSSAGA 
 
 »3J 
 
 " Jeanie " — and he went and put his arms through hers 
 — '' be a brave woman now, for my sake and the poor lad's. 
 The men are liere." 
 
 " To lake — Malcolm ? " whispered the poor mother, with 
 white lips. 
 
 " They can't take him, thanks to Nora Stewart, and I've 
 put them on a wrong scent, the Lord forgive me ! I have 
 told them he started last night for London, and you must 
 stick to the same story." 
 
 Mrs. Eraser gave a few gasping sighs, and held her hus- 
 band's hand fast. The police found them thus, the husband 
 and wife — they who had been together through long years 
 of sunshine, standing together in the storm^ — and the head 
 constable admitted afterward that he "nigh broke down at 
 the sight." 
 
 But neither in the mother's bedroom nor anywhere in 
 the long straggling corridors of the old irregular house did 
 they find the young heir of Airdlinn, But they found his 
 rifle, and his shooting shoes, which the head constable 
 measured with a significant sigli, and then took possession 
 of. All his belongings were lying about his room — his 
 books, his letters, his pipes. Everything, indeed, bespoke 
 of a secret and hasty flight ; and such was the conclusion 
 the police came to. 
 
 " He's been warned," they said to each other ; " but ten 
 to one he is hiding among the hills, with the lad Rob Mac- 
 kenzie along with him. Ay, he'll be stealing home in the 
 dusk." And for many days they watched the house at Aird- 
 linn, but Malcolm never came ; and Rob Mackenzie had 
 also mysteriously disappeared. 
 
 f' > 
 
 Vr; 
 
 l'-l. 
 
 
 'it ■' 
 
 ' I 
 
 .'? ''.3 
 
 ill 
 
 ' v 
 
 m 
 
 y'KH 
 
 •1' ■ 
 
 ». ^ ' 
 
 '•'I; *' 
 
 mm ' 
 
 m 
 
 m 5pf . ■ 
 
 f^ ■■ fl 
 
 rs« 
 
 \\ 
 
 
 Is I 
 
 m 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 THE FIRST NEWS. 
 
 When Alick Eraser heard what had happened — heard 
 from poor Jock's pallid lips that, through information 
 given to the police by Sandy Hill, a warrant was out against 
 Malcolm, his indignation knew no bounds. 
 
 "The ungrateful scoundrel ! " he roared. "Why did he 
 not come, then, with this story to me ? " 
 
 "It wfis the reward Mr. Biddulph offered, I suppose 
 tempted him," answered Jock, with a heavy sigh. 
 
»34 
 
 A STRAS'GE MESSAGE. 
 
 Then Alick cursed Mr. Biddulph and the reward and 
 Sandy all in one breath. 
 
 " But I don't believe a word of it ! " he added. " It's a 
 concocted story — concocted between that villain Sandy 
 Hill, who would do anything for money, and Biddulph. I 
 have always believed Biddulph guilty, and always shall." 
 
 But Jock shook his head. 
 
 *' It's no use trying to deceive ourselves, Alick," he said, 
 sadly ; "poor Malcolm confessed his guilt to Nora Stew- 
 art — but she's true as gold." 
 
 It was a terrible blow to Alick Eraser's vain, proud heart 
 to hear these words. His family pride was very strong, and 
 his conscience (which was not a tender one) smote him. 
 He knew at least who, indirectly, had caused this heavy 
 blow to fall on his brother's household, and he left Airdlinn, 
 swearing to inflict condign punishment on the traitor Sandy 
 Hill. 
 
 But before he went he had a word to say to his brother, 
 "which showed there was some good feeling left in this hard 
 nature still. 
 
 " If Malcolm actually confessed to Nora Stewart," he 
 said, " that he committed this mad act, he must never again 
 set foot in Scotland. And he'll want money ; I'm ready 
 and willing, Jock, to provide him with funds, as I know 
 you are not overburdened with wealth, so long as he stajs 
 away." 
 
 "Nora Stewart gave him a hundred pounds to go away 
 with," answered the laird; "this, of course, I must re- 
 
 pay." 
 
 *' Don't bother your head about it — I'll pay the young 
 lady ; but if he's got a hundred pounds, that's plenty for 
 him at present. However, I'll see Nora Stewart, and will 
 arrange with her how money has to be sent to him. His 
 secret is safe with her, unless she tells that Biddulph." 
 
 "But for Biddulph, poor Malcolm would have been ar- 
 rested now," answered Jock, with a heavy sigh ; and Alick 
 Fraser, after having flung a few more oaths at Sandv's head, 
 parted with his brother, and returned to Inismore, deter- 
 mined, as he mentally expressed it, " to thrash that cur 
 within an inch of his life." 
 
 He grasped a heavy dog-whip as he strode through his 
 grand new hall, and inquired in a voice of thunder where 
 Mr. Hill was, and desired him to be sent to him at once. 
 But Sandy had been too sharp for him. Instead of Mr. 
 Hill himself, a note from Mr. Hill was presently brought 
 
 to the 
 with hi^ 
 
 «' DearI 
 
 " I mi 
 
 eveninj 
 
 turn, 
 rcmami 
 
 Alicl 
 
 can w( 
 
 whip 
 mornir 
 
 might 
 niemb( 
 was as 
 too, c? 
 Fraser 
 The 
 misera 
 Rossm 
 that M 
 fred (T 
 th-ely 
 sum t( 
 he re 
 frown 
 and 
 treate 
 merly 
 Th< 
 mastt 
 his d 
 he h: 
 Male 
 stead 
 brotl 
 cohr 
 her 
 to r( 
 It 
 the 
 but 
 
A ST/i4iVGE MESSAGE, 
 
 '35 
 
 to the angry master of the house, who was standing icady 
 with his whip in his strong hand. 
 
 "Dear Sir " (Aliclv read, in Sandy's neat, cramped hand), 
 " Important business has recalled me to Glasgow this 
 evening, thus preventing my being able to await your re- 
 turn. I shall ccnimunicate by letter in a few days, and I 
 remain, dear sir, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 " Sandford Hill." 
 
 Alick Fraser waxed more furious over this letter than 
 can well be told. He swore he would carry his dog- 
 wliip to Glasgow the next morning ; but by the next 
 morning wiser thoughts prevailed. Sandy, he reflected, 
 might bring him up for assault, and, as already one 
 member of the family was under the ban of the law, it 
 was as well that he should remain quiet. And bad news, 
 too, came from Airdlinn, both Mrs. Jock and Minnie 
 Fraser being quite prostrated with grief. 
 
 Tiie most intense anxiety, indeed, prevailed in this 
 miserable household during the next few days, and also at 
 Rossmore. But tlie police had quite taken up the idea 
 that Malcolm Fraser was hiding among the hills, and Al- 
 fred (Nora's yoimg footman) had proved himself to be en- 
 tirely trustworthy. True, Nora had added a substantial 
 sum to the twenty pounds Biddulph had given him ; but 
 he really deserved this, for neither the wiles nor the 
 frowns of Palmer had drawn a single word from him, 
 and Palmer began to respect him accordingly, and 
 treated him with much more deference than she had for- 
 merly done. 
 
 Tlie servants at Airdlinn were devoted to their young 
 master, and one and ail declared they knew nothing of 
 his disappearance. They did not, of course, know where 
 he had gone, and they also inclined to the belief that 
 Malcolm was not far away. Tarn Mackenzie, too, 
 steadily denied that he knew anything whatever of his 
 brother Rob's whereabouts. But tlu'ee days after Mal- 
 colm's flight, a letter reached Nora's hand, which filled 
 her heart with thankfulness, and she at once sent Alfred 
 to request Jock Fraser to come to her immediately. 
 
 It was from Malcolm — a few guarded lines, posted on 
 the eve of his embarkation for America. It was unsigned, 
 but Nora knew the bold, careless hr :dwriting very well ; 
 
 it-!. ■ 
 
 iS'i 
 
136 
 
 A STRAS'GE MESSAGE, 
 
 niid Jock Fraser too knew it, and his eyes grew dim as he 
 
 road the lines his boy's linnrl had traced, and the message 
 
 ** to the dear ones at liome, of whom I am always think- 
 • I* 
 
 Jock carried these precious words away witli him, 
 knowing they would do more good to the poor broken- 
 hearted inother than all tlie doctor's " physics." Ah, what 
 tears were shed over them, wliat fond prayers breathed! 
 Malcolm had been the pride and darling of Mrs. Eraser's 
 heart from the time he had stretched his lusty baby limbs 
 in his little cot, until he had grown .jp to his handsome, 
 imperious young manliood. "There is none like him," 
 she had often said to her iuisband, gazing proudly at the 
 straight features and blue eyes of this darling son. 
 
 And now it was very piteous, but at least he was com- 
 paratively safe. And these two, father and mother, 
 knelt down together, side by side, and thanked God for 
 ti)is. Over that great waste of waters their prayers could 
 still follow him, and their love might guard him, though 
 their eyes saw him no more. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A SNOW-STORM. . 
 
 Biddulph also breathed a sigh of relief when he lieard 
 from Nora's lips that her young cousin was safely out of 
 England, and that the police were certainly at fault. He 
 licard this on the afternoon of the same day that Nora 
 had sent for Jock Eraser to tell him the news. Biddulph 
 had not seen Nora since the night of Malcolm's flight, and 
 they met with some cmbairassment. Nora was conscious 
 that, in tlie excitement of waiting for poor Malcolm, she 
 lind looked and talked to Biddul'ih as she had never done 
 before. And lie also felt that he had almost spoken of the 
 love which they both knew filled their hearts. 
 
 It is a strange tiling, this knowledge — this silent and 
 mysterious binding together of two souls ; for true love 
 is this, though what the world mostly calls love is not. 
 They met, then, these two, with a brief fluttering hand- 
 clasp, a blush, and a little nervousness, whicii the woman 
 betrayed the least. Nora began eagerly to tell Biddulph 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 137 
 
 ? heard 
 out of 
 t. He 
 
 t Nora 
 Idiiiph 
 >t, and 
 scioijs 
 n, she 
 done 
 of the 
 
 about Malcolm — to tell him how she had sent for Jock 
 Fraserand all about the mother's anguish and despair. 
 
 " Thank God, the boy is safe, then," said Biddulph ; 
 " for 1 have never been able to get poor Mrs. Frascr out 
 of my mind." 
 
 '• It was really too terrible to see her. And Jock said, 
 when tlie police went to Airdlinn he should never forget 
 it. But she will be happier now, thanks to you." 
 
 " I only wish I could make her happy. I did not like 
 the grim suspicion which Malcolm Fraser's mad act had 
 cast upon my name, but yet I declare, when my good 
 friend the doctor told me of the piteous condition of mind 
 and body to which this poor woman was brought, I 
 thought it almost a pity that the blame did not rest upon 
 me still, for I have no mother." 
 
 " Do not say so. It was shameful that it ever fell on 
 you," answered Nora, quickly. 
 
 " It must be unjust, at least ; but I shall be honest, and I 
 will not say tliat I would recall that poor woman again to 
 life nowj even if I could ; but I will say I never would 
 have raised my hand to injure her." 
 
 " Of course not. And yet it was a heavy burden." 
 
 "A burden almost too heavy to be borne ; a burden that 
 grew and grew. But why speak of it ? It has slipped 
 away from me, and still left me — hope'* 
 
 He took a step nearer to her as he uttered that last word, 
 and his eyes were fixed upon the pale, lovely face, which 
 possessed for him the subtle charm, the wondrous beauty, 
 which he only found in her. And as he stood, over her 
 fair cheeks crept another tint, and her white eyelids 
 drooped, and her sweet breath rose and fell with quick- 
 ened throb. 
 
 " Nora, you know what that hope is," he began, his deep 
 voice broken with the strong feelings surging through his 
 heart ; " you know — — " 
 
 Nora was not destined at this moment to know, or, at 
 least, to be told. The room-door opened, and tlie angu- 
 lar, black-robed form of Mrs. Cf)nvvay-Hope appeared, 
 and Biddulpli naturally took a step backward in conse- 
 quence. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Biddulph, how are you ?" said Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope, holding out her hand, and probably quite uncon- 
 scious that she was in the way. Her fate in life, indeed, 
 appeared to be to say things that were not needed, and to 
 appear where she was not wanted. Some people arc liko 
 
138 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 this, and a cross-grained sprite must certainly have at- 
 tended at the birt'i of Mrs. Convvay-Hope. 
 
 '* Wc bnvc not seen you since you came that night, about 
 tliis dreadl .1 affair of young Malcohn Fraser," continued 
 the hidy. •* It is truly terrible, isn't it "^ And I am very 
 sorry for poor JNlrs. Fraser, though I must say she was 
 ridiculously proud of tiiis young man, whom I confess I 
 always thought very ill-bred, though I had no idea, of 
 course, what a dreadful character he really was." 
 
 '* I think, Cousin Margaret, we need not talk of the 
 poor boy's faults now," said Nora. 
 
 " But, my dear Nora, the whole countryside is talking 
 of them! Where do you suppose he has escaped to, Mr. 
 Biddulph?" 
 
 " To some of the holes and corners among the hills, I 
 dare say, Mrs. Conway-Hope," answered Biddulph, with 
 an unmoved countenance. "You have heard, I suppose, 
 Miss Stewart, that the lad Rob Mackenzie, whom my long- 
 eared friend, Mr. Sandford Hill, overheard relating this 
 unhappy story to his brother, has also vanished ? ", 
 
 ** Yes, I have heard this,"' answered Nora. ** The faithful 
 boy is, no doubt, determined that his evidence shall not 
 be given against iiis master." 
 
 " But is this right, my dear Nora ?" asked Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope, pensively. "I think fai>-hfulness should cease with 
 respect. What do you think, Mr. Biddulph?" 
 
 " 1 have a fellow-feeling for errmg sinners, Mrs. Con- 
 way-Hope, and, therefore, I think \X. sJwuld not." 
 
 " And I think," said Nora, lifting her head with kindling 
 eyes, "that faithfulness is only shown when the dark clouds 
 gather and the storxU is near." 
 
 "And you, too," said Biddulph, looking at her, "would 
 have gone out as this lad has done, tc live a hunted life 
 amid the rocks and caves, rather than swear away a be- 
 loved life. I can understand it, and Rob's dog-like fidelity 
 moves my heart — so much so, that I mean to-day to seek 
 out t!ie brother, and tell him that when Rob reappears I 
 sliall be glad to take him into my service. I should like 
 an honest-hearted fellow such as tiiis always by my side." 
 
 "He will probably live to cheat you, then," smiled Mrs. 
 Conway-Hope. " I have invariably found that if you trust 
 a person of this class too much, they always do." 
 
 " Then I shall be cheated," answered Biddulph, rising, 
 and holding out his hand to Nora. " May I soon see you 
 again, Miss Stewart ?" 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 »39 
 
 "You can see me when you like to come," answered 
 Nora ; and again that lovely tint stole to her cheeks. 
 
 " Good-by, then. I shall call and tell you how I get on 
 with Mr. Tarn Mackenzie." 
 
 "He certainly is a good-looking man," said Mrs. Con- 
 way-Hope, after he was gone, going on vigorously with 
 her knitting. " But did you notice, Nora dear, that he 
 spoke with a certain latitude, a levity rather, about sin ? 
 I fear he may have had some very good reason for that 
 concealed marriage of his " 
 
 " Cousin Margaret, would you very kindly reach me my 
 book? I really do not wish to discuss Mr. Biddulph," in- 
 terrupted Nora; and with a sigh Mrs. Convvay-Hope rose 
 to comply with her request, and then again pensively sub- 
 sided into her knitting, though occasionally giving a slight 
 groan of disapproval as some unpleasing thought crossed 
 her mind. 
 
 In the meanwhile Biddulph was wending his way 
 through a thick mist to the little hovel, which Sandy 
 Hill had not unaptly described " as very little better than 
 a heap of stones," where the lads Tam and Rob Mackenzie 
 dwelt. 
 
 It stood a little off the roadway, and Biddulph easily 
 found it, and found, too, their elder brother, Tam, and the 
 ancient smoke-dried woman, their granddame, who was 
 crouching over the log fire. 
 
 The smoke was so thick in the cottage that Biddulph 
 did not care to enter it, but beckoned the young woodman 
 to come outside to speak to him, and then began to ques- 
 tion him about Rob. 
 
 But Tam showed an extraordinary reticence when speak- 
 ing about his absent brother. He knew nothing about it, 
 he declared. Rob might be with the young laird, or he 
 might not. Tam pretended to be totally ignorant on the 
 subject ; but Biddulph, acute and observing, plainly saw 
 the lad was keeping something back. 
 
 '• He's a fine fellow, this young brother of yours," Bid- 
 dulph said, before taking his leave, slipping a couple of 
 sovereigns into Tarn's not unwilling hand. " When he 
 casts up again, send him over to Dunbaan, and I will take 
 him into my employment." 
 
 Tam expressed great gratitude ; and then Biddulph went 
 up to the blear-eyed, shrunken, old creature inside, who 
 was bending over the smoking logs. 
 
 He spoke to her, but her sense of hearing was totally 
 
 :»1 
 
I40 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 gone ; and it was not until he put some silver into heri 
 claw-like hand that the slightest change of expression 
 passed over her face. But when she saw the money, her 
 lips began to move and mutter; even on the verge of the 
 grave its touch could rouse her still. I 
 
 She tried to rise, and mumbled a blessing in words Bid-| 
 dulph could not in the least understand. For a moment I 
 or two he stood looking at her, this wieck of poor hu-' 
 manity, and then turned away, wondering if she had once 
 been young and comely like the grandchildren she had 
 
 reared. 
 
 As he walked down to the loch, after parting with Tani 
 Mackenzie, Biddulph found the weather had changed 
 The wind had veered round, and the loch was dark and 
 troubled, and the thick haze was lifting. Down the gr 
 hills the gray mist rolled away like smoke-clouds, and Lie 
 outlines, lately so indistinct, stood out siiarp and clear. 
 But the sky was wild and unsettled, and tiie boatnun 
 prophesied a storm, and made haste to cross the black- 
 ening water, which momentarily became more rough. 
 
 And before nightfall the wind rose, and began howling 
 round the house at Uunbaan, and snow and sleet came 
 dashing against the window-panes. Biddulph grew rest- 
 less, and went and looked out again and again, watching 
 the twinkling lights on the lofty headland of Rossmorc. 
 And Nora's fair face seemed before him, with the rose- 
 blush on her cheeks, and the soft light shining in her eyes 
 as he had seen it to-day. Should he ask her at once ? 
 Make a sweet uncertainty into a yet sweeter bond ? Then 
 he pictured her sitting by his hearth, and sharing with 
 him his daily life, and smiling at him with her bright 
 smile. 
 
 " There can be no change with us," he thought, fondly, 
 " for I have given her all I have to give. 
 
 " Heart of my heart, were it more, 
 More would be laid at your feet." 
 
 He repeated these lines again and again, for their mel- 
 ody suited this mood, and their swinging rhythm had 
 caught his ear. Outside the tempest blew and the snow 
 drifted, but the man's heart was warm and full of love. 
 He was free, he was happy, and the dark shadows of his 
 life had rolled away. 
 
 But as he walked to and fro, excited by the hubbub 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 I4f 
 
 without, a chill thought suddenly crossed his mind. 
 Where was the faithful lad Rob Mackenzie during this 
 wild storm? Safe in the hovel by tlie hill-side, Biddulph 
 hoped, as he shrewdly fancied that Tani Mackenzie wa.. 
 very well acquainted with his brother's wiiereabouts. Still 
 tlie idea made him uneasy, and twice during the night, 
 wlien he awoke, he remembered the young gillie. 
 
 And the next morning the snow lay deep ; the lofty 
 mountain range across the loch white, and each individual 
 holly leaf in the avenue, each blade of grasi; on the lawn, 
 white, too. It lav in soft undulatinij masses on the over- 
 hanging crags, and in the clefts and crevices, and on the 
 storm-tossed firs. A cold chill world ; only the water dark, 
 and the sky gray ; all else wrapped in the white pall, and 
 a trrcat stillness above aad around. 
 
 And it snowed all dav. Not 
 
 tmg, 
 
 nor wind-blown 
 
 now, but the air thick with the floating feather-like fall, 
 which came softly and gently, wrapping many a flock on 
 the hills in its chill and death-embrace. And as tiie dark- 
 ness gathered in for night, Biddulph, who was standing 
 smoking at the house door, saw the lad Tarn Mackenzie 
 coming quickly up the avenue, and beckoned him to ap- 
 proach him. 
 
 The young fellow was breathless, and his face was white 
 and scared. 
 
 " Do you want anything, my lad ? " asked Biddulph, 
 kindly. 
 
 "Weel, sir, I'se made bold to cam*,'' answered Tarn, 
 touching his cap, "'cause puir Rob, the lad ye spiered for 
 yester, is out on the hills, and I canna' find him." 
 
 " What ! Out in all the snow last night ? " asked Bid- 
 dulph. 
 
 "Ay, puir fellow, he wad gane ; an' he made me take a 
 solemn promise, sir, I w^ad ne'er tell where he lay hid. But 
 1 hae been thar now, and I hae shouted, and shouted, and 
 get na answer, an' I'se sare afraid." 
 
 "Then you knew where he was? He went, I sup- 
 pose, to prevent giving evidence against Malcolm Fraser ? " 
 
 Upon thisTam confessed the truth, after, however, pray- 
 ing Biddulph not to betray "puir Rob." It seemed that 
 the police had come upon Tam Mackenzie in the woods at 
 Inismore, shortly after Sandy Hill had lodged the infor- 
 mation against Malcolm Fraser with the constables, and 
 they had told Tam everything was known, and that he 
 might as well make a clean breast of it. Tam fellinto 
 
 3.i\L 
 
142 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 the snare, and admitted the truth of Sandy's story ; but 
 when Rob came home and heard this, he turned deadly 
 pale, and swore his words should never be turned against 
 "the young laird." 
 
 ** He snatched his gun fra' the wa', sir," continued Tarn, 
 tears gathering in his honest gray eyes, "an' the young 
 laird's bit pictur', which ay hung thar', an said he'd be 
 aff to the hills wi'out bite or sup. But I prayed him sare 
 to tak' some wi' him, and tell me whar' he wad be. An' 
 he did ; an* I'se been thar' night on night, till the snaw 
 cam' last night, an I couldna' gan'. An' now, sir,"— and 
 poor Tam put on a pleading air — " I'se made bold to cam' 
 to ask ye to lend me the hound they say ye ha', which 
 canies fra' whar' they seek men in the snaw, to seek puir 
 Rob." 
 
 "You mean the St. Bernard. Of course you shall have 
 the dog ; but you cannot go to-night." 
 
 Tam wriggled his slim form about in evident distress, and 
 pulled his cap off his rough brown head and looked ap- 
 pealingly in Biddulph's face. 
 
 "I couldna' rest, sir," he said at length, "an' think on 
 puir Rob perishing in the snaw." 
 
 Biddulph looked up to the sky, and in the west, where 
 the sun was sinking, hidden by the dense mass of snow- 
 laden clouds, suddenly a pale blue rift had appeared. 
 
 It lay, a streak of light between two dark gloomy lines; 
 but still it told the storm was breaking, and, after a mo- 
 ment's consideration, Biddulph made up his mind. 
 
 " I will go with you," he said. " Glen, the St. Bernard, 
 wc .Id not probably follow you, and might not obey you ; 
 and I too cannot bear to think of poor Rob without help 
 among the snow." 
 
 Tam could scarcely find words to express his gratitude. 
 He meant to say Biddulph's kindness was too much ; that 
 "yer honor's life" was too valuable to be risked for "the 
 like ()' them." 
 
 "Come into the house," said Biddulph, quietly, "and 
 have some supper and some whiskey before we start. I 
 shall have something, too ; and we must take food and 
 brandy. When we get to the other side of the loch, how 
 far have we to go ? " 
 
 Rob had taken shelter, by Tam's account, in a deep 
 ravine, near the head of the loch, with which both he and 
 Rob had been acquainted since their boyhood. Hither 
 Tam had stolen night after night, when darkness had set 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 H3 
 
 in, to carry food and whiskey to his young brother. There 
 was little shelter but the shelving rocks in tlie wild spot 
 where Rob lay hid, Tarn told Biddulph. And, to his dis- 
 may, on going this evening through the deep snow to their 
 usual tryst, he could see nor hear nothing of Rob, though 
 he had shouted himself hoarse to attract his attention. 
 Then he had remembered Rob telling him of a dog Mr. 
 Biddulph had, which he had bought from some good 
 monks, who keep this breed especially to track men lost 
 in the snow. And Tam had found courage, in his grief 
 and distress, to go to Biddulph to ask for the loan of the 
 St. Bernard to seek poor Rob. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A FAITHFUL HEART. 
 
 Biddulph never forgot the night when he started out 
 amid the snow, with Tam Mackenzie by his side, to seek 
 the young gillie. The scene was weird and wondrous in 
 the extreme ; for that rift in the sky had spread and spread, 
 and, as they crossed the dark water, the moon suddenly 
 shone out amid the heavy clouds, and lit up the white 
 world around them with indescribable beauty. 
 
 It was a wild and dangerous journey, he knew well. 
 The deep defiles among the mountain range would proba- 
 bly be blocked with snow, and a constant danger would 
 exist, too, of a heavy fall of snow from the shelving rocks 
 and precipices suddenly descending on them. But Bid- 
 dulph was strong and courageous, and had been deeply 
 moved by the story of the lad's faithfulness ; and Tam 
 Mackenzie thought only of rescuing his young brother. 
 
 They took with them the St. Bernard dog — Glen, a 
 noble creature, rich, ruddy brown in color, witli tiie 
 broad breast and splendid head which denotes his race. 
 He was of pure breed, Biddulph having purchased him 
 from a friend, who had actually bought him of the good 
 monks at the monastery from which he derived his name. 
 Biddulph had thought of taking some of the deer hounds 
 and keepers, but Tam begged him not, as he was sure Rob 
 would not be found, if he thouglit his hiding-place were 
 publicly known. 
 
 They crossed the loch, then, alone, these two, in the 
 
 
144 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 glinting moonlight, and, avoiding passing through the 
 btraggling village of Balla, soon came to the foot of the 
 vast tnoiiiitain range beyond it, at the commencement of 
 which is the rugged and rtjtnantic pass known as the Glen 
 of Malla, liaunted ftjr liiddulph witli such grim and gliast- 
 \y thoughts. 
 
 As they entered it, he involuntarily shuddered. The 
 gloom here was great, in spite of the moonligiit and the 
 white snow, for the l(nvering crags on either side left but 
 a narrow strip of sky-line visible. Biddulph held the St. 
 Hernard in leash, and as they neared the fatal spot where 
 the woman had shrieked and died, the creature suddenly 
 stopped, lifted its n(jble head, and emitted a weird and 
 portentous howl, which ran echoing thnnigh the glen, 
 and produced on Biddulph's heart a strange startled feel- 
 ing, almost of dread. 
 
 He was glad when they quitted the dark defile, and 
 emerged again in the silver moonlight shining on the 
 white hills. The scene was now of extraordinary beauty, 
 and as they kept skirting the loch, close at the foot of th*^ 
 mountain range, the snowy peaks glittering in the cold 
 rays of light, the effect was so marvellous that Biddulph 
 paused niore than once, wondering and amazed. 
 
 "We'll gan' in thar*," said Tam, presently, nowpointing 
 to anotlier pass among the mountains ; and as they entered 
 tliis, a fall of snow fell with a shuddering sound from one 
 of tlie clifTs just in front of them, and completely blocked 
 their path. 
 
 To plunge through this took both time and strength, 
 and their way now became most toils «me and dangerous. 
 Again and again snow-falls occurred as they winded among 
 the hills, and struggled through the deep drifts, and both 
 Biddulph and Tam became exceedingly exhausted. At last 
 Tam made the welcome announcement that they were ap- 
 proaching the sput where Rob and he kept their tryst. 
 
 ** It's na far to gan now," he said ; and it was not. They 
 had reached a little secluded glen, where in the summer 
 time the tangled copse-wcjod and bushes grew thick, af- 
 fording a splendid shelter for the black game, which 
 made it a favorite resort. Now all was cold, white, and 
 desolate, and no answer came when Tam Mackenzie once 
 more shouted the name of his absent brother. 
 
 "Thar's a bit supper I hac' left," said Tam, pointing to 
 some food on a stone, from which he had brushed the 
 snow on his first visit this evening to the glen. At this 
 
A STRAJVGF. AfESS/tCE. 
 
 «45 
 
 moment the moonlight was shining with remarkable 
 brilliancy, and every object was as plainly visible as by 
 (layiigiit ; and they saw that the food was untouched, and 
 that Rob liad at least not visited the spot since Tam had 
 been there. 
 
 In one part of the glen, a projecting shelving crag 
 formed a sort of cave, and Tam told Biddulph that Rob 
 said he sometimes slept there. But a deep drift of snow 
 had bhiwn into this rocky cavity ; and it suddenly struck 
 Biddulph that poor Rob m'ght be sleeping there now, in 
 tiie still sleep of death. 
 
 He led the St. Bernard near the spot, and then unleashed 
 him. The sagacious creature seemed to understand what 
 he was expected to do ; stood still, sniffed the frosty air; 
 grew restless, gave a low, short, inquiring bark, and then 
 plunged into the snow-drift. 
 
 There lie again stood still for a moment or two, and 
 then commenced scratching with his fore-paws, and bark- 
 ing, in a state of evident excitement. Biddulph and Tam 
 now followed him into the frozen mass, the drift reaching 
 nearly to their waists ; and still the St. Bernard threw up 
 tiie snow with impatient paws, and seemed each instant 
 to grow more eager. 
 
 " Ah, poor fellow, I fear he has found him ! " exclaimed 
 Biddulph. 
 
 Tam, too, gave a cry, and scrambled to the place where 
 the dog stood barking and scratching, and began with 
 trembling hands to help to push away the snow. It did 
 not. take very long. Beneath that white pall the young 
 gillie lay sleeping, with a smile on his handsome boyish 
 lips, and a look of unutterable peace in his half-closed 
 eyes. 
 
 " Rob ! Rob ! " cried Tam, lifting up his brother's head ; 
 "wake up, mon, wake up ! " 
 
 But the still white face showed no signs of waking, and 
 the deaf ears heard not. 
 
 " Let us carry him out of this," said Biddulph, " and rub 
 his hands and feet with whiskey, and try to get some be- 
 tween his lips ; he may come round." 
 
 So they carried him out of the snow-drift, and laid him 
 on a plaid, ar-J pulled off his boots and rubbed his frozen 
 feet with spirit, and his stiff hands. One of these stiff cold 
 hands was clutched round a little common frame, and when 
 Tam turned the palm to the light, he cried out it was the 
 " young laird's " picture that Rob held so fast. 
 
 ■ .y id 
 
 XO 
 
146 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 "Ay, he liked liim too vveel," said poor Tarn, who was 
 much affected ; "he's gi'en his hfe for his !" 
 
 They tried a long time to recover him, but it was all in 
 vain. There lay Rob Mackenzie^ cold and dead ; and Bid- 
 dulph soon saw that this was so. He had "given his life 
 for his friend." And as the moonlight fell on his white 
 face, it seemed to Biddulph that the boy smiled, as if proud 
 to have died for the sake of his dear master. 
 
 " I'm afraid it's no use, my poor Tad," said Biddulph at 
 last, as Tarn was vainly endeavoring to bring some warmth 
 into the chill hands. " The question is, what shall we do ? 
 We cannot leave him here alone." 
 
 " I'll na leave him," answered Tam, sturdily. 
 
 " Are you strong enough to go back to Balla, and get 
 the doctor and men to carry him home ? " asked Biddulph. 
 "I would go, but I should lose my way; you know it. 
 Will you try ? " 
 
 " He wadna' cam'." 
 
 " Oh yes, he will. There may be a chance — not strong 
 one — that he could bring Rob round. We can do nothing 
 more ; and if we stay here all night, we too .aay perish in 
 the snow." 
 
 They finally settled this : Biddulph was to remain to 
 watch the young gillie, and Tam to make his way back 
 through the snow to Balla. Biddulph wrote a note to Dr. 
 Alexander in pencil, entreating him to come at once, and 
 empowering him to c iTer any reward he chose to give, to 
 induce men to accompany him, for the purpose of carry- 
 ing back poor Rob. 
 
 " I fear it is too late," he added, "but we must try." 
 
 He gave this letter to Tam, who started off as fast as his 
 legs could carry him, and Bic.dulph was left alone in this 
 white, silent, lonely place, with the dead boy lying at his 
 feet. It was a strange position, and strange fancies began 
 to creep into Biddulph's brain, and weird and ghostly sto- 
 ries, that he had heard in his youth, came back to his 
 mind. He began to walk up and down, but still the glcr. 
 seeuied haunted to him, and gnome-like and fantastic 
 shapes appeared to his excited imagination to be creeping 
 nearer to him over the white glistening snow. One tall, 
 dark shadow, he could have sworn, stealthily approached. 
 But a moment later this glided away, and the antlered 
 head told his reason that this doubtless was some deer 
 straying in search of food from the neighboring forest. 
 
 Then he went back and stood looking at poor Rob's face, 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 X47 
 
 lying there with his unchanging smile. He stooped down 
 and raised the hand which still Iield the photograph of 
 Malcolm Fraser in^ts rigid clasp, and laid it on the brave 
 lad's breast. And as he did this, the dog Glen, which had 
 been moving restlessly about, went up and licked the poor 
 boy's hands, and then — 'tis sad, but true, to write human- 
 like — he turned his attention to w^hat the dead had left 
 behind him, and began inspecting with evident interest 
 the food which Tarn had brought for his young brother, 
 who now had no further need of it. 
 
 And Biddulph did not rebuke him. Why should the 
 poor brute not have his supper, he thought, after his hard 
 night's work ? So Glen ate cold rabbit with relish, and 
 then curled liimself up and fell asleep on the plaid beside 
 Rob Mackenzie's still form, occasionally, however, rousing 
 himself to look at his master, and once more lick the dead 
 gillie's cold hand. 
 
 " Would the time never pass ? " Biddulph thought. 
 Two hours had dragged slowly away since Tarn had left 
 liim, and the sky was becoming overcast, and there was 
 no token of his return. Then small snow began to fall, 
 and Biddulph knew that, if tlie storm commenced in 
 earnest, the mountain passes would soon become untrack- 
 able. It was a gloomy prospect enough, bivU.there was 
 nothing to be done but to wait. And presently he began 
 to think of Nora Stewart, and to wonder what she would 
 feel if she knew he was standing far away on the snow- 
 clad hills. 
 
 A moment later Glen sprang to his feet with a sharp 
 bark. His acute ears had caught the sound of distant 
 voices, '^nd, with a great sense of relief, Biddulph also 
 soon heard them. He shouted loudly, and he was an- 
 swered. Help had come then, and five minutes later, the 
 doctor, Tarn Mackenzie, and four men with lanterns, made 
 their appearance in the glen ; Tam running first up to 
 poor Rob's body, and kneeling down beside it 
 
 "■ Ha' he stirred, sir?" he asked. 
 
 ** No," answered Biddulp!'., sadly ; and the men gath- 
 ered round the living and dej^d brother with many expres- 
 sions of feeling and sympathy. 
 
 But the doctor, after warmly grasping Biddulph's hand, 
 bade them stand back, and, kneeling down, felt the young 
 gillie's stilled pulse, and laid his head over his heart. 
 There was no beat — he was dead, and in a moment the 
 doctor saw this. 
 
148 
 
 A STRANTrE MESSAGE, 
 
 " He isgane fra'our poor knowledge," he said, solemnly. 
 " Don't greet. Tarn, my lad," he added, laying his hand 
 kindly on Tarn's shoulder, who seemed quite broken down 
 with grief; "yer brother has died a noble death ; may we 
 a' meet it as he has done ! " And the doctor rose to his feet, 
 passing his own hand as he did so roughly over his face to 
 hide his tears. 
 
 There was nothing further to be done then but to carry 
 the dead home, and the men had brought with them the 
 means of doing this, and the sad procession soon started on 
 the perilous journey through the snow. With great diffi- 
 culty and toil at last they reached the village of Balla ; and 
 when the question rose where poor Rob's body was to be 
 taken, Biddulph at once stepped forward. 
 
 " Carry him to my house," he said ; " let my roof cover, 
 for a few nights at least, this faithful heart." 
 
 ■ • •••• • • 
 
 And they carried him across tiie dark water to the house 
 at Dunbaan, and there he lay in state. Such state as is not 
 given by velvet drapery, nor any funereal garniture. He 
 lay decked with something that money cannot buy — the 
 poor boy had given his life rather than say a word to be- 
 tray his young master, and women came and wept, and 
 strong men siglied, by the flower-covered bier, where he 
 slept in his unwaking slumber. 
 
 And there was one visitor came whose own heart was 
 sore and broken down with grief. Yet when Mrs. Jock 
 heard the sad story of Rob's death, she insisted upon 
 paying this last respect to the youth who had been so faith- 
 ful to her son. 
 
 Long she stood there, looking at the handsome boyish 
 features ; and tlien she bent down and kissed liis cold brow. 
 
 "Good by, my lad," she whispered, and her tears fell 
 fast. " I will tell my Malcolm how well you loved him." 
 And the sweet smile on the dead face seemed to grow 
 sweeter still. 
 
 They buried him two days later, in the little kirk -yard at 
 Balla, and Jock Fraser, Biddulph, and Dr. Alexander fol- 
 lowed him to the grave. It was a simple ceremony, but 
 very touching, for it was known that lying on the dead lad's 
 l)reast still was the portrait of Malcolm Fraser, to whom 
 he had been so true ; and outside the plain oak coffin were 
 beautiful wreaths of white tlovvcrs, one sent by Mrs. Jock, 
 and the other by Nora Stewart. 
 
 And it was by the side of the young gillie's grave that 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 i49 
 
 Jock Fraser first held out his hand again in token of friend- 
 ship to the man whose acquaintance had really cost them 
 all so much. They were turning to leave it, when honest 
 Jock held out his black gloved hand to Biddulph, and said, 
 with some suppressed emotion : 
 
 ** I have not seen you yet to thank you, Mr. Biddulph, 
 for a great service." 
 
 Biddulph warmly grasped the hand extended to him. 
 
 " It was no service. I cannot tell you how intensely 
 painful all this has been to me, on your account and Mrs. 
 laser s. 
 
 "It's been hard on the mother," answered Jock Fraser, 
 with twitching lips. 
 
 "When Mrs. Fraser honored my poor house by calling 
 two days ago, to look once more on yon poor boy's face " 
 — and IBiddulph pointed to the still open grave—" I did not 
 like to intrude on her. I felt she would not, perhaps, care 
 to see me." 
 
 "Jeanie quite understood your motive; but she too 
 desires to thank you. It's a sad house to ask you to come 
 to, but still " 
 
 "I thank you very much ; I certainly shall call." 
 
 And once more they shook hands, and then Jock turned 
 away ; and people said, as they looked after him, that the 
 poor laird had grown suddenly older, and that he stooped, 
 and that his kind eyes had ceased to smile. 
 
 As Biddulph was leaving the kirk-yard, the doctor laid 
 his big hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "Weel," he said, "yer not going to leave this side o' 
 the water, are ye, without calling on the young leedy at 
 Ross more ?" 
 
 " I should like to call, but " 
 
 " I fancy, maybe, she'd like to see ye. And i'm sare 
 grieved to tell ye," added the doctor, with a dry smile, "that 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope is laid up wi' a bad attack of rheumat- 
 ics, and cannot leave her bed." 
 
 "In that case," said Biddulph, in a changed and lively 
 tone, "I shall certainly call on Miss Stewart; but really 
 that old woman " 
 
 "She's a bit trying, but she'll na trouble ye to-day ; and 
 now good-day to ye." And the doctor nodded and went 
 his way, and Biddulph soon found himself ringing at the 
 house-door bell at Rossmore. 
 
 It was opened by Alfred, who smiled a welcome 
 
 Yes, Miss Stewart was at home, he told Biddulph, and 
 
ISO 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGl, 
 
 had given orders that if Mr. Biddulph called he was to be 
 admitted. 
 
 And not many moments later Biddulph was holding 
 Nora's hand fast clasped in his. 
 
 " You have come," she said, quickly. •* I thought you had 
 forgotten me." 
 
 **And I thought you knew that never could be," he 
 answered, looking into her dark eyes. 
 
 " I have heard, of course," faltered Nora, " of your great 
 goodness, your bravery, your danger, in trying to rescue 
 tliat poor boy " 
 
 •'There was no goodness about it, tliough perhaps some 
 danger. Sliall I tell you what I thought of when 1 stood 
 alone among the white hills?" 
 
 "Yes, tell me." 
 
 " I was wondering, if the snow came down and I was 
 buried there, if — you would regret me." 
 
 "You — you know I should " 
 
 " But iiovv much, Nora? As a woman regrets a passing 
 friend, or a man she loves ?" 
 
 Siie made no answer in words. She looked up for a 
 moment into his face, and Biddulph bent down and caught 
 both her hands. 
 
 " Am I so happy ? " he said, passionately. " Has the 
 one bright hope of my life come true ?" 
 
 " If jrou mean that I cure for yow—yes!* 
 
 Slie whispered the last word, but he heard it, and, sit- 
 ting down beside her, drew her head upon his breast and 
 kissed iier sweet lips. 
 
 " I will try to be worthy of you/* he said ; "nothing pulls 
 a man up like the love of a good woman. Say again, Nora, 
 that you care for me — that you love me." 
 
 " VVell, I do say it ; " and she smiled. 
 
 " And nothing shall part us ? " 
 
 " Nothing ; I promise it." 
 
 " Then I have got something to live for at last. You 
 don't know how I love you, dear ; how my life is wrapped 
 up in yours. I could not bear to live, Nora, if anything 
 were to part us now." 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 «5i 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 AN ENGAGEMENT. 
 
 Two hours later Nora, who could move about the house 
 now, though she was still lame, went up to Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope's room, with a flush on her cheek, and a bright light 
 in her lovely dark eyes. 
 
 That lady was feeling aggrieved. When five o'clock 
 came, and no five-o'clock tea, she had rung her bell 
 and inquired if there were any visitors in the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 She was told by Palmer that Mr. Biddulph was there, 
 and she sighed, and requested Palmer, when tea was 
 taken upstairs, to bring her a cup. But six o'clock came 
 and still no tea, and Mrs. Conway-Hope's patience was 
 exhausted. She rang again, and Palmer answered her 
 summons. 
 
 " Has Miss Stewart not had her tea yet ? " she inquired 
 severely. 
 
 "No, madam," answered Palmer, mincingly ; "Miss 
 Stewart has not rung for it, and Alfred thought he had 
 better not take it up until she did, as Mr, Biddulph is 
 there." 
 
 " Hum ! Well, bring me some, please, for I can wait no 
 lonQ^er." 
 
 So she got her 1 a ; but it was seven o'clock before 
 Nora made her appearance in Mrs. Conway-Hope's bed- 
 room, looking so bright and fair that "Cousin Mar- 
 garet" secretly disapproved of her appearance. 
 
 "Well, dear Nora," she said, "I hear you have had 
 Mr. Biddulph." 
 
 "Yes, Cousin Margaret," answered Nora, smiling; 
 "and I hope you are feeling better, and that Palmer has 
 been attentive to you ?" 
 
 " I rang for tea twice, but it seems you have not had it 
 in the drawing-room ?" 
 
 " No ; " and Nora laughed. She had, in truth, forgotten 
 all about it ; but she added, half demurely, a moment 
 later, " I don't think Mr. Biddulph cares for tea." 
 
 "Hum ! You seem to have had a long conversation 
 together." 
 
 " And I have come to tell you what it was about," said 
 
rs« 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 Nora, with a charming smile and a deeper blush. 
 " Cousin iMargaret, I am engaged to Mr. Biddulph." 
 
 Mrs. Convvay-Hope emitted something between a groan 
 and a sigh. 
 
 "Well, my dear," she said, " I hope it is for the best." 
 
 *• 1 have no fear," answered Nora, with some pride, lift- 
 ing up her shapely head ; I am sure it is for the best." 
 
 Again Mrs. Convvay-Hope sighed. 
 
 " i trust so, my dear — trust so for your sake ; but I can- 
 not help having doubts." 
 
 " There is nothing to have doubts about. Mr. Biddulph 
 knows his own mind, and I know mine. From the first 
 time I saw him I liked him, even when " 
 
 <( 
 
 He was really a married man, you know, Nora 
 dear." 
 " Well, he is not a married man now, at all events." 
 " No, but still that was a sad story, and I cannot— I 
 admit I cannot, dear — think that Mr. Biddulph behaved 
 as he should have done. He should have announced, 
 when he came here, that he was married, and thus saved 
 many disagreeable complications." 
 
 "It was a very unlikely announcement for a man to 
 make, I think. But you don't know all the story, 
 Cousin Margaret. He was tricked into this wretched 
 
 marriage. 
 
 " I thank Heaven I know very little of such stories. Of 
 course, when I thought that unhappy person met her death 
 through his hand, I felt it was my duty, as you know, Nora 
 dear, to — to protest, as it were, against you continuing 
 your acquaintance with him. This did not please you, I 
 know ; but still I did my duty. Now it is different. We 
 know who did this dreadful deed. I declare I shudder when 
 I think how often that wretched young man, Malcolm 
 Fraser, has dined under this roof. I pity his mother ; Mrs. 
 Fraser is no favorite of mine, but still I pity her — such 
 disgrace. And Minnie's chances of marriage completely 
 over ; and I actually did hear that Mrs. Fraser was absurd 
 enough to suppose that Lord Glendoyne really meant 
 sometliing." 
 
 " He paid her a great deal of attention at all events." 
 " Oh, my dear, what are attentions when girls have no 
 money ?^ Now, wiien girls have it is different ; for in- 
 stance, it is diff'. ent in your case, as you have a good 
 fortune, and naturally men think of this. Oh, of course 
 they do ; all girls with money have many proposals." 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 »53 
 
 F blush. 
 '" a groan 
 
 best." 
 >nde, Jift. 
 >est." 
 
 >ut I can- 
 
 |BidduIph 
 the first 
 
 •w, Nora 
 
 nts." 
 cannot— I 
 behaved 
 nounced, 
 us saved 
 
 man to 
 le storv, 
 vretche'd 
 
 nes. Of 
 er death 
 •w, Nora 
 itinuing 
 e you, I 
 It. We 
 3r when 
 lalcolm 
 r ; Mrs. 
 * — such 
 pletely 
 absurd 
 meant 
 
 Its." 
 ive no 
 or in- 
 good 
 course 
 
 "Well, Mr. Biddulph, at all events, cannot be accused 
 of mercenary ideas, for he is rich." 
 
 " But still, dear Nora, you are a good match for him. 
 Your fortune and his will make a very fine income. I do 
 not say for |i moment he thinks only of this. Of course 
 not, but still it iszi consideration, and men like a littie money 
 with their wives; and, I -^peat, girls with money have 
 always many offers." 
 
 Nora was too happy lo be angry, but still she did not 
 like it. Pleasant words are like the sunshine, and gladden 
 each human heart. Mrs. Convvay-Hope was a perpetual 
 cloud, and Nora Stewart, as she stood looking at her, re- 
 flected with pleasure that she was not likely often to be a 
 visitor in Mr. Biddulph's house. 
 
 " And have you made any arrangements for the future ?" 
 presently inquired Mrs. Conway-Hope. "Shall you live 
 here, or at Dunbaan ? " 
 
 '* I shall live in my husband's house, of course," answered 
 Nora, a little indignantly. 
 
 "That will be very nice. Then you will require some 
 one to live here. In that case, Nora, my dear, I shall be 
 happy to do so, and take care of the place for you. We 
 never can tell in this world what will ha';.pen ; you may 
 wish some day to return." 
 
 " I can make no arransrements without consultins: Mr. 
 Biddulph. It is too soon, in fact, to talk of these things. I 
 have told you of my engagement, because, as you are in 
 the house, and my father's cousin " 
 
 " My dear Nora," said Mrs. Conway-Hope, rising and 
 pressing her gray-tinted face and blue-tinted lips against 
 Nora's lovely cheeks, "I shall //-uy that you maybe happy. 
 If troubles come, you know that you have almost a mother 
 in me — though my age is not great — but still you know 
 you Iiave one in whom you can confide and trust. I siiall 
 try to like Mr. Biddulph for your sake. He is good-look- 
 ing, at all events, though I do not quite like his expression 
 at times; it is too cvnical — as if he had seen and gone 
 through so much. But then, we knoia that he has d.one 
 this, and therefore we must expect a little bitterness, a little 
 irritability at times." 
 
 "What will you have for dinner?" said Nora, rather 
 abruptly, anxious to put a stop to the discussion of Mr. Bid- 
 dulph's little failings. " And, Cousin Margaret, as I am 
 going to marry Mr. Biddulph, I should rather you did not 
 talk of him in this way any more." 
 
 
»M 
 
 ^ A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 "In which way? I do not understand. Have I said 
 anything you did not like?" 
 
 Nora gave a little laugh, a little shrug, and went away ; 
 and Mrs. Conway-Hope ate her solitary dinner witii appe- 
 tite and yet sadness. She did not like Mr. Biddulph. She 
 had an instinctive knowledge that those gray eyes of his 
 looked out at her from their dark lashes with no little scorn. 
 She was his pet aversion, in fact, and he could hardly 
 school himself to be civil to her. 
 
 " I have a presentiment," she told herself, as she helped 
 herself a second time to grouse, of which she was fond, 
 *' that this marriage will end !inhappily. Nora has made a 
 fool of herself about this man ever since she knew him ; 
 she has run after him, in fact — I call it indelicately ; and 
 she came up to-night looking quite delighted because he 
 had proposed. Few women would, I think, have taken 
 him under the circumstances. Well, we shall see how it 
 turns out ; I hope, poor dear, well, but in my opinion it is 
 a sad risk." 
 
 If such were Mrs. Conway-Hope's thoughts, Nora's were 
 very different. Shall we look one moment at her, when 
 all the house was still, and night had spread its sable wings 
 over the world ? A fair woman, sitting pensively, with her 
 dark hair unbound, thinking of the great joy that had come 
 to her heart. He loved her, then, this man, who seemed to 
 her as a king among his fellows. Nora Stewart had had 
 many lovers — some, no doubt, for the sake of the good in- 
 come ^rs. Conway-Hope had remarked on — but no one 
 had ever touched her heart until James Biddulph had 
 looked at her, had understood her, and given a new beauty, 
 a new, sweet, subtle charm to her life. 
 
 And now she was to be his wife ; side by side always 
 with this friend whose company was so dear to her, whose 
 words her soul echoed, whose face was beautiful in her 
 eyes. She sat there remembering little things, the first 
 hand-clasp, the first sigh, now when her cheek was warm 
 with the first kiss ! And then crept back to her mind the 
 memory of the strange message that had come to disturb 
 her peace, and the dark tragedy, tb** fatal snap of the chain 
 that had parted her from her lover. 
 
 It was starlight, and Nora went to the window, and, look- 
 ing upward, began to dream of the sweet fable thai twin- 
 souls are born in the same star, and wander about alone on 
 earth until they meet again. She had found her twin soul, 
 then — this love of hers, whom she had known up there 
 
 among] 
 softly 
 to tlie 
 home, 
 of the| 
 too gr^ 
 
 She 
 was ha 
 dual 111 
 
 And| 
 
 early, 
 
 thinkij 
 
 Poor 
 
 —who 
 
 whose 
 
 pity 
 water 
 ence 
 to thii 
 Cou 
 misers 
 ing u 
 When 
 a goo 
 son. 
 again 
 chara 
 and f 
 a do^ 
 serve 
 liked 
 not 
 solit 
 are, 
 out 
 chat 
 alor 
 S 
 thoi 
 ht.r 
 beg 
 ital 
 No 
 the 
 ex] 
 
A STRANGE ME S3 AGE, 
 
 '55 
 
 ^^e I said 
 
 nt away ; 
 'itli appe- 
 ph. She 
 es of his 
 
 :'e scorn, 
 hardly 
 
 helped 
 ras fond, 
 s made a 
 Pw him ; 
 ^y ; and 
 cause he 
 'e taken 
 low if 
 lion it is 
 
 a's were 
 -r, when 
 le wings 
 vith her 
 Eld come 
 2ined to 
 md had 
 ^ood in- 
 no one 
 ph had 
 beauty, 
 
 always 
 
 whose 
 in her 
 le first 
 
 warm 
 nd the 
 iisturb 
 
 chain 
 
 among the bright twinkling lights. Then she laughed 
 softly at the foolish fancy, and looked across the dark loch 
 to the house at Dunbaan, to the house that was to be her 
 home, where they would watch the stars together, and talk 
 of the wondrous world, and the hidden things which are 
 too great for mortal men. 
 
 She turned away with u oigh of great contentment. She 
 was happy, and in the night she dreamed still of the sweet 
 dual life which was to have no end. 
 
 And in the morning she was happy too. She awoke 
 early, and her heart was light, and she smiled to herself, 
 thinking of "poor Cousin Margaret's " doubts and fears. 
 Poor Cousin Margaret indeed, who had no lover nor love 
 — whose life was all gray-tinted, whose joys were dead, 
 whose hopes were grown old. Nora began absolutely to 
 pity the sour old woman who had wished to throw cold 
 water on her happiness. What a miserable, solitary exist- 
 ence ! she reflected ; no one to share her thoughts, no one 
 to think of her all the day long. 
 
 Cousin Margaret was, perhaps, really to be pitied, for how 
 miserable must be the mind that takes pleasure in think- 
 ing unkind things, and the tongue in propagating them ! 
 When we hear it said of a person that he or she " never has 
 a good word for anyone," we naturally don't like that per- 
 son. This means we think the person has been speaking 
 against us, and no one likes to bespoken against. Such a 
 character cuts the man or woman, in fact, off from the love 
 and friendship of his or her fellows. It was like "giving 
 a dog a bad name ; " only the poor dog often does not de- 
 serve it, and the human being generally does. No one 
 liked Mrs. Conway-Hope, and she had few invitations, and 
 not one true friend. Therefore she 7vas to be pitied — a 
 solitary, sour old woman, whose company gave no pleas- 
 ure, and whose words left a sting. She drew bitterness 
 out of everything, and pushed the sweet cup of love and 
 charity from her lips, and yet repined because she was 
 alone. 
 
 She had passed a very uncomfortable night with the 
 thought of Nora's engagement, and the aches and pangs in 
 her own bones to torment her. But in the morning she 
 began to reflect it was no use struggling against the inev- 
 itable, and that it would be the very best arrangement, if 
 Nora married, for herself to live on at Rossmore, to keep 
 the house warm for one thing, and for another to save the 
 expense of living at her own cost anywhere else. 
 
 
156 
 
 A ST n A MCE MESSAGE, 
 
 She determined, therefore, as she mentally expressed it, 
 to try " to make the best of it," and when Nora went to 
 her room to inquire after her rheumatism, Mrs. Convay- 
 Hope, said, with a smile which she intended to be play- 
 ful : 
 
 " I suppose we shall have the lover to-day ?" 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph said he would come," answered Nora, 
 smiling. 
 
 '• Then, my dear Nora, I shall try to get down into the 
 drawing-room ; for your sake I wish to pay him tiiis com- 
 pliment." 
 
 " Indeed, Cousin Margaret, I should advise you not to 
 do so ; it is the very coldest day we have had this year. 
 At least, wnit until you have seen the doctor." 
 
 With some persuasion, Mrs. Con way-Hope agreed to 
 adopt this rather Jesuitical piece of advice, and Nora felt 
 she was going to have a happy day. She donned hei 
 newest and prettiest gown ; she made her drawing-room 
 fresh and bright with flowers ; and she sat there trying to 
 reau, all the while, however, thinking of the real, and not 
 an ideal hero. 
 
 About thr^o o'clock she ^eard a ring, and a manly step 
 ascending the staircase. And the blush which always 
 made her so lovely rose to her fair cheeks, and she lifted 
 her shining eyes in welcome, and the door opened and the 
 stalwart form of Alick Fraser appeared. 
 
 She was very courteous, but it was all she could do to 
 hide her disappointment. Alick Fraser, however, was 
 satisfied with his reception, and sat looking at her adniir- 
 ingiy, thinking all the while what a handsome woman she 
 was, und that her accident on the hills had stolen nothing 
 from her beauty. 
 
 He had called with a purpose. He had stood looking 
 at his good-looking face and clear skin attentively before 
 he had left Inismore ; and then he had looked round with 
 pride at his stately new home. He iiad been intensely 
 angry and disgusted about Malcolm Fraser's mad act, and 
 the worry and trouble it had brought upon them all, but 
 he was not going to let the blow knock him do=vn. He 
 held his liead as high, and walked with as proud a step as 
 ever, and spoke to the men of his acquaintance of Malcolm 
 as "that young fool." He was out (A the country, and he 
 should stay there, he determined, and he meant to provide 
 him with means only on this condition. And he had 
 called to see Nora partly to pay her the hundred pounds 
 
A STRANGE MES::AGE, 
 
 157 
 
 d Nora, 
 
 she had given to Malcolm, and partly on some business 
 of his own, which long had haunted his mind. 
 
 "This is your property, Miss Nora," he said, with his 
 hard smile, rising and laying a check for one hundred 
 pounds on a little table by Nora; "this is the sum, I 
 believe, that you advanced to that graceless boy Malcolm, 
 and many thanks to you." 
 
 "But, Mr. Fraser," answered Nora, "indeed I cannot 
 take this money ! I gave that hundred pounds to poor 
 Malcolm ; I did not lend it." 
 
 "My dear young lady, that is nonsense — excuse me for 
 saying so," replied Alick, still standing before her. "That 
 wretched boy is indebted for his safety to you, and it be- 
 hooves either his father or I to see at least that ) du do 
 not lose money by the transaction. You know poor Jock 
 is not overburdened with wealth, therefore I offered to do 
 this ; and I also want you to tell him, when you hear from 
 liim, that I shall provide for his future. He may take a 
 ranch on the plains, an orange farm at Floi ida, anything 
 he likes, and h2 shall have the money ; but only on one con- 
 dition — that he never sets foot in England or Scotland 
 again." 
 
 " It is very good of you, Mr. Fraser." 
 
 " I am afraid there's a bit of selfishness in it, Miss Nora, 
 and the money does not count much to me, you know. I 
 suppose the young fellow must have taken too much 
 whiskey, or he never would have done such a mad trick. 
 I wouldn't believe it at first ; thought that sneak Sandy 
 Hill had invented the whole story for the sake of the re- 
 ward your friend, Mr. Biddulph, offered. But I've had 
 the lad Tam Mackenzie up to my place, and questioned 
 liim closely, and I suppose there's no doubt Malcolm 
 shot the poor woman, though unintentionally, of course." 
 
 " He meant ti> shoot Mr. Biddulph," said Nora, gravely. 
 
 " So these two lads thought, but I question it very much. 
 I expect he meant \.o frighten Mr. Biddulph. But it was a 
 mad act, and no excuse can be made for it ; it was rough 
 on Biddulph, too, though I don't like the man." 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph acted very kindly about it, at least." 
 
 "So Jock tells me. I dare say he's all right, but his 
 conduct, to my mind, remains inexcusable. He was mar- 
 ried to this poor creature, by his own admission, and he 
 passed himself off as unmarried. However, all this is old 
 news, and I did not come here to talk about Mr. Bid- 
 dulph." 
 
 'A. 
 
i5« 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 " Vou came to tell me what you mean to do for poor 
 Malcolm ?•• 
 
 " Yes ; that and other things. Now, tell me candidly, 
 Miss Nora, do you think me an old, or rather a middle- 
 aged man ?" and Alick Fraser gave an uneasy laugh. 
 
 "Of course you are not old," answered Nora, smiling. 
 
 " I don't feel old, at all events. I feel as fresh now as 
 I did at five-andtwenty, though I am in a very different 
 position financially." 
 
 " You are very rich, are you not ?" said Nora, still smil- 
 ing. 
 
 "Well, Miss Nora," said Alick, bending nearer to her, 
 "I don't mind confessing to you that I'm not badly off. 
 I don't talk much about my property at Airdlinn, for Jock 
 is confoundedly hard up; and though I don't grudge him 
 a trifle now and again, still one must think of one's self, 
 especially when one intends to marry." 
 
 Nora did not speak ; she ceased to smile, and began to 
 feel uncomfortable; and Alick, noting these signs, set 
 them down to maidenly modesty, and proceeded to en- 
 large on his money, as he thought that was the shortest 
 way to any human heart. 
 
 •' I'll admit to you," he contmued, bending still closer, 
 "that I've a net income of over fifteen thousand a year, 
 and an increasing income. Miss Nora. Some of my money 
 is magnificently invested, and the young lady who marries 
 me will find I won't grudge her anything she chooses to 
 ask me for." 
 
 "Well, that is only right," said Nora, trying to seem at 
 ease. 
 
 "And now, can you guess, Miss Nora, who this young 
 lady is ? She's a very handsome young lady, and my neigh- 
 bor, and I hope my friend." 
 
 Nora shook her head, and was conscious that she blushed 
 deeply. 
 
 " I can't guess," she said. 
 
 "Oh yes, you can, though ;" cind Alick rose, and would 
 have taken her hand. " The lady J want is yourself, and 
 I don't care to have any other." 
 
 *• Oh, Mr. Fraser, I am sorry you have said this ! " 
 
 "Why, my dear girl? I know you are too straightfor- 
 ward a girl to let this confounded affair of young Mal- 
 colm's stand in the way." 
 
 " It is not that, of course," faltered Nora ; "it is " 
 
 "Perhaps you have not thought of it before? Well, 
 
 you. 
 Mick 
 
 speak. 
 
 the grea 
 
 He reall 
 
 joined \\ 
 
 eted was 
 
 tensely < 
 
 " And 
 
 said at 1 
 
 "Yes 
 
 jind ne' 
 
 shall oi 
 
 said." 
 
 *'Th 
 
 I I supp 
 
 " ln( 
 
 no one 
 
 "Ye 
 
 "I I 
 
 mv m 
 
 repea 
 
 "Y 
 
 no gc 
 
 best < 
 
 that ' 
 
 Uvinj 
 
 "\ 
 
 -Jikw. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 159 
 
 take time to think of it now, and come over some day and 
 sec the house of Inismore. I don't want to boast, but I 
 think it is well done, and you must add the gimcracks 
 and crockery, you know." 
 
 "But, Mr. Fraser, I- I cannot marry you. It is very 
 good of you to ask me ; but, perhaps, 1 ought to tell you. 
 I am engaged to some one else." 
 
 Alick's eager, resolute countenance fell. 
 
 "No!" he exclaimed ; '* not possible !" 
 
 "But it is so, really. I am engaged to Mr. Biddulph." 
 
 A strong expression of wrath nearly broke from Alick's 
 firm lips at this ann(juncement, but he suppressed it. He 
 drew himself up, and then said slowly : 
 
 "Is this lately, then .>" 
 
 "Yes, quite lately. I should not have mentioned it, but 
 I thought it better that you should understand ; and — 
 and I am very sorrow to cause any diiappointment to 
 you. 
 
 Alick drew a long breath, and for a moment did not 
 speak. It was, in truth, a terrible disappointment to him, 
 the greatest he had ever had in his prosperous, busy life. 
 He really admired Nora Stewart ; and then, her property 
 joined his, and he wanted a wife, and the one he had cov- 
 eted was snatched away from him by the very man he in- 
 tensely disliked. 
 
 " And you have quite made up your mind to this ? " he 
 said at last. 
 
 " Yes, quite ; but I hope we shall remain good friends 
 and neighbors, Mr. Fraser. And about poor Malcolm, I 
 shall only be too glad to write and tell him what you have 
 said." 
 
 ** Thank you, and you'll tell all the rest to Mr. Biddulph, 
 I suppose?" said Alick, with some bitterness. 
 
 "Indeed, I shall tell nothing of the kind. I shall tell 
 no one, Mr. Fraser, of the honor you have done me." 
 
 " Yet women like to boast of their offers they say." 
 
 " I am not one of those women, then. It is no boast, to 
 my mind, to cause any one pain ; and I am very sorry, I 
 repeat, if I have caused any to you." 
 
 " You have, then," said Alick Fraser, bluntly. " But it's 
 no good crying over spilt milk, and I'll have lo make the 
 best of it. Take up that check, though, please. Miss Nora; 
 that wretched lad must not be indebted to you for his 
 living." 
 
 "Very well ; then I'll send it to him the moment I hear 
 
i6o 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 where he is, and I'll tell him you will advance money for 
 him to begin life with." 
 
 " In reason, mind ye? Don't let the boy suppose I am 
 going to support him in extravagance or nonsense. And 
 if you really send him this hundred pounds, Miss Nora, 
 that wil: be two hundred he has had, you see r that should 
 keep him for a year." 
 
 " I will let you know when I hear from him, and we can 
 arrange it. I am so awfully sorry for Mrs. Jock." 
 
 " Jeanie's terribly cut up about it ; it's a bad business at 
 best. Well good-day. Miss Nora ; I had hoped for a dif 
 ferent answer, but it can't be helped." 
 
 And Alick Fraser went away ; but he did not carry his 
 head so high, now, and in going down the avenue he en- 
 countered Mr. Biddulph coming up it. The two men ex- 
 changed a brief good-morning, and punctiliously raised 
 their caps to each other. But, as Alick Fraser strode on, 
 he cursed the man between his set teeth who had robbed 
 him of the woman he had chosen for his wife. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 HAPPY DAYS. 
 
 The next few days were the brightest of all Nora Stew- 
 art's life. 
 
 "I am ashamed to feel so happy," she said softly to her 
 lover, " when I think of all the sadness at Airdlinn." 
 
 " And you are quite happy ? You have no doubts, no 
 regrets, Nora?" asked Biddulph, laying his hand upon 
 her shoulder, and looking down at her sweet, upturned 
 face. 
 
 "No— except Must I tell you one ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What if I remain a little lame ? The doctor is not 
 quite sure yet. How should you like a poor lame wife ?" 
 
 Then he bent down and kissed her. 
 
 " My darling, if you could not move a step ; if your 
 beauty waned before my eyes, I should always love you 
 now. It is yourself, your b jing, your soul, the immortal 
 part of you, Nora, that I love, and not only that which I 
 know must fade. Therefore, my sweet " — and he softly 
 pushed back her dark hair from her fair brow — " in youth 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 t6x 
 
 and old age, when this pretty head is white, and the bright 
 eyes dim, I shall still be your lover — ' the loved and the 
 lover.'" 
 
 He whispered the last words, and she looked up with her 
 dewy eyes, and smiled in his face. 
 
 *' Aiid you, too, are happy ? " she asked, a little trem- 
 ulously. 
 
 " Shall I tell you how happy ? Have not I got my 
 heart's desire, the crown and pride of my future life ? 
 Nora, I don't mean to be an idle man now. I thought 
 my career was wrecked, and I cared neither for the praise 
 nor blame of my fellows. Now all this is changed; I 
 mean to work hard, and come home for my reward. I 
 have written to my father to-day, and told him I mean to 
 begin practice at the bar at once ; he can give me plenty 
 of work." 
 
 " I wonder how you will look in your gown and wig ? " 
 said Nora, with a happy little laugh 
 
 " Lovely, no doubt, as young ladies say. By the bye, 
 my Nora, may I tell our good friend the doctor how happy 
 we are? I know it will please him." 
 
 "Yes, of course, tell him. I meant to write to tell Mrs. 
 Jock and Jock to-day, but somehow I shrink from it ; the 
 contrast in our lives and theirs seems so great." 
 
 "Yet I think it will please the kindly Jock; the mother, 
 I fear, will think of her absent son." 
 
 And Biddulph was right. Mrs. Jock received the news 
 of Nora's engagement with a sudden passion of tears, a 
 sudden outburst of grief, that utterly astonished her hus- 
 band. 
 
 '• My dear Jeanie," he said, "what is the matter ? " 
 
 " It is too soon — too soon ! " sobbed Mrs. Jock ; "after 
 all the anguish to my boy, Nora should have thought of 
 this!" 
 
 " But, my dear Jeanie, she never could have married 
 poor Malcolm now ; and I like Biddulph— he's a fine fel- 
 low." 
 
 "He's cost you and yours very dear," said poor Mrs. 
 Jock, with the unreasonableness of grief. But after a while 
 she herself saw the injustice of this feeling, and was per- 
 suaded to write a levv kind words to Nora, which Jock 
 himself carried to Rossmore. 
 
 " Well, my dear," he said, taking Nora's hand and kissing 
 her cheek, " I have come to wish you joy. May you be 
 very happy, my dear girl." 
 
 IX 
 
x62 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 " Thank you, dear Jock." 
 
 "Jeanie would have come too, but, po^r thing" — and 
 Jock sighed — ** all this has broken her down terribly ; 
 she's a changed woman." 
 
 " It is no wonder," answered Nora, with quick sympathy. 
 " But, dear Jock, I hope it may be all well with Malcolm 
 still. Your brother called here about him the other day, 
 and he will provide for him ; and Malcolm is so youn£ that 
 his life may be a happy one yet." 
 
 " I pray God it may be so, dear ; you did your best for 
 him at any rate, and Mr. Biddulph, and we must try to 
 bear it, as I tell Jeanie and Alick. I never thought 
 Alick would have behave^ as he has done ; he has been 
 very kind." 
 
 "Yes, I am sure he means to be so." 
 
 " But altogether it has been a terrible upset. And Min- 
 nie — I don't like the looks of the child ; I suppose she frets 
 after her brother." 
 
 "Why has she not been to see me ? " asked Nora, kindly. 
 "You know, Jock, I am not allowed to walk a step I can 
 spare yet, and so I cannot go to Airdlinn ; but do send 
 Minnie to see me." 
 
 "Thank you very much. Til try to persuade the child 
 to come ; " and after a few more kindly words, Jock F'raser 
 went away ; but Nora looked after him with saddened 
 eyes. 
 
 He was a changed man, as he had said his wife was a 
 changed woman. The humorous twinkle in his brown 
 eyes was gone, and he stooped, and the cheery ring had 
 passed out of his voice. 
 
 " I can't get the poor lad out of my head night or day," 
 he told his friend the doctor, who listened with sympathiz- 
 ing ears to the poor father's heart-broken words. 
 
 "It's a sare dispensation," he said ; "but we must just 
 try to bear these things, Jock." 
 
 "Ay, it's easy talking; but, as you say," — and Jock 
 sighed deeply — "we must try to bear what is laid upon 
 us;" and the poor laird looked at this moment as if his 
 burden was almost too heavy for his strength. 
 
 Nora, indeed, felt so uneasy about him that, when the 
 doctor called to offer his congratulations, as Biddulph had 
 told him of the engagement, she asked him if he thought 
 Jock F'raser was really ill. 
 
 "He's an ailment, Miss Nora Stewart," answered the 
 doctor, sorrowfully, *'that na medicine can cure. Yon 
 
 puir lac 
 
 added, 
 " this 
 weddinj 
 
 happy 
 " Son 
 
 a smile 
 "We 
 
 ye. A 
 
 a desoh 
 
 "Yetl 
 
 The 
 
 "It'sl 
 
 "But 
 
 The 
 
 "Ay, 
 
 I've ha' 
 
 since, 
 
 they te 
 
 the doc 
 
 "An 
 
 to smil 
 
 a We 
 
 Hope ' 
 
 anxioui 
 
 her ; ai 
 
 at her J 
 
 "Inc 
 
 Sb« sa 
 
 was gc 
 
 "Sc 
 
 doctor 
 
 got a 
 
 an ill 
 
 "Tl 
 
 if no < 
 
 "B 
 
 ing tc 
 
 must 
 
 him 1 
 
 heart 
 
 over 
 
 ditio 
 
 At 
 
 for a 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 x«3 
 
 puir laddie has nigh broken his father's heart. But," h« 
 added, a kindly smile passing over his rough features, 
 '• this is na' what I came to talk on. So vv'e're to ha' a 
 wedding, Miss Stewart, and Mr. Biddulph is to be the 
 happy mon ? " 
 
 " Sometime or other," answered Nora, with a blush and 
 a smile. 
 
 "Well, my dear young leedy, there's na joy I dinnawish 
 ye. And ye've made a gude choice, and a lone life is aye 
 a desolate one ;" And the doctor sighed. 
 
 " Yet you have never married, doctor." 
 
 The doctor absolutely blushed. 
 
 " It's na' been in my way, somehow," he said. 
 
 "But it's not too late," smiled Nora. 
 
 The poor man shook his head. 
 
 " Ay, it's too late. I'll na' be saying I ne'er thought on't. 
 I've ha' my dream like the rest, and I saw the leedy a while 
 since, and she's vera bonnie still ; but she's eleven bairns, 
 they tell me, and they'd been an unco' charge ;" and again 
 the doctor sighed. 
 
 *' And how is Cousin Margaret ? " asked Nora, trying not 
 to smile at the doctor's loss. 
 
 "Weel, Miss Stewart, I've recommended Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope to keep her room for the present. She's maist 
 anxious to be down, but I fancy the draughts are bad for 
 her ; and I fancy, too, Mr. Biddulph and yersel' won't fret 
 at her absence." 
 
 " Indeed, doctor, we are only too glad to be rid of her. 
 Sh« said all sorts of disagreeable things when I told her I 
 was going to be married." 
 
 " Some folks turn sour, and some sad," answered the 
 doctor, philosophically; "and puir Mrs. Conway-Hope has 
 got a bit curdled. Ay, ay, the world is full o' trouble, and 
 an ill tongue is a great stirrer up o' it." 
 
 "That is quite true ; we should all be so much happier 
 if no one said unkind tilings." 
 
 " But there's a deal like saying them, though na listen- 
 ing to them," answered the doctor, with a smile. " Weel, I 
 must away now. Gi' my respects to Mr. Biddulph, and tell 
 him he's a happy mon ;" and with this compliment, and a 
 hearty hand-shake, the doctor went, going on his long rides 
 over the snowy hills in his usual half-sad, half-cheery con- 
 dition of mind. 
 
 And scarcely was he gone when Biddulph arrived, and 
 for a little while Nora forgot everything but her lover. 
 
 
i64 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 " I know you v/ill think me an unreasonable man," he 
 said, after a little while. 
 
 " And how art you unreasonable ? " 
 
 " It's getting most awfully cold up in the North here, 
 isn't it, Nora ? " answered Biddulph, with a little laugh. 
 
 " Well, it is cold. Do you want to go away for a while ?" 
 asked Nora, with a litthi air of disappointment. 
 
 "Yes," said Biddulph, with a com'^al shrug. 
 
 Nora felt aggrieved, but did not speak. 
 
 ** I want to go away," continued Biddulph, taking both her 
 hands, " and to take you with me. I want to be married 
 at once, and for us to go up to town and spend Christmas 
 with my father ; and I want to introduce you to an old aunt 
 of mine, Lady Barbara Biddulph, who is a wonderful wom- 
 an ; and then I want to take you to the sunny South, and 
 for us to have our holiday among the orange groves." 
 
 " It is too soon, is it not ? " said Nora, with a sudden blush. 
 
 " Why too soon ? " 
 
 " For one thing, my ankle is not well yet." * 
 
 " That is one reason why I want this. Our dear old 
 friend, the doctor, and the man from Edinburgh, have done 
 everything right, I have no doubt ; but still I should like 
 you to see some of the great London surgeons. Do con- 
 sent, my Nora ; it will make me so happy." 
 
 " But people v»'ill say " 
 
 " Oh, what a little woman you are, after all ! What on 
 earth does it matter what people say to us? Are we not 
 all the world to each other? And what can they say, only 
 that Mr. Biddulph was in a great hurry to get married, and 
 for once they will speak the truth ?" 
 
 "And the people at Airdlinn " 
 
 "Jock won't grudge us our happiness, my dear. I wish 
 with all my heart we could make the fine old fellow happy, 
 too ; but we can't do this, Nora, yet awhile ; but after that 
 youngster gets settled a bit, things will seem brighter." 
 
 " VVell, wait, at all events until we hear from Malcolm. 
 Don't say anything about it until then." 
 
 Biddulph gave a little shrug. 
 
 '* A letter may be lost or delayed." 
 
 "Still, let us wait," said Nora, softly, turning her sweet 
 face to Biddulph ; "it would make me happier, even amid 
 my great happii^ess, if I could tell them their boy was safe." 
 
 He felt he could say nothing more. 
 
 "It is a promise, then," he answered, smiling. "When 
 a letter arri/es from the dear prodigal, I have to claim 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 165 
 
 the privilege of fixing our wedding-day. I hope the dear 
 prodigal won't be short of writing materials, and miss a 
 post. 
 
 Nora laughed a glad laugh, and gave the required 
 promise ; and every day after this Biddulph's first in- 
 quiry was about her letters. 
 
 And he had not long to wait. One wintry afternoon, he 
 found her with a deeper rose bloom on her fair cheeks than 
 he was accustomed to see there, and a look half-shy, lialf- 
 mirthful, shining in her dark eyes. 
 
 "1 believe the letter has come," he said, taking both her 
 hands, and earnestly regarding her face. 
 
 "What makes you tiiink so ?" 
 
 "I know it has I "cried Biddulph, triumphantly, " I see 
 it in your eyes. Nora, am I right ? " 
 
 "Yes," she whispered, softly ; and her head fell upon his 
 breast. 
 
 The letter from Malcolm Fraser had not only arrived 
 at Rossmore, but had already been forwarded to Airdiinn. 
 He had landed safely at New York, and was well in health, 
 " though often very sad, thinking of you all," he wrote ; and 
 there were a few lines enclosed for his mother, and he gave 
 his present address. 
 
 " And you won't go back from your promise, Nora ?" in- 
 quired Biddulph, a little anxiously. 
 
 " I am afraid you are going to turn out an exacting ty- 
 rant ; but I always keep my word." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 WEDDING GAUDS. 
 
 If Bidjlulph proved a little exacting, it did not seem to 
 make Nora unhappy. Never had she looked so handsome 
 as during the next three weeks, which was the time of 
 grace her lover had given her. Mrs. Con way-Hope, of 
 course, had her sigh and her groan at " the unnecessary 
 haste ; " " but then, we were prepared for sighs and groans," 
 said Biddulph ; and as Mrs. Conway- Hope now wished to 
 remain on at Rossmore after the wedding, she was obliged 
 to restrain the expression of her feelings to moderate lim- 
 its. 
 
 Mrs. Jock, at Airdiinn, also thought Nora ought to have 
 
t66 
 
 A STRAf^GE MESSAGE, 
 
 waited ** a little longer." The poor mother remembered 
 the blow that would fall upon her absent boy when the 
 news of Nora Stewart's marriage reached him, though she 
 was too sensible not to know that a marriage between them 
 was now impossible. 
 
 " He'll get over it sooner," said Jock ; " and, Jeanie, we 
 must not forget all Nora and Bidduiph have done for us. 
 What shall we give them for a wedding present, do you 
 think, my dear ?" 
 
 In spite of her grief, Mrs. Jock was still woman enough 
 to have an interest in a wedding present. For one thing, 
 they are most difficult to choose ; for another there is a 
 charm about them which belongs to no other gift. The 
 gray-haired matron, the widow in her black robes, still 
 looks with a softened smile at the marriage presents which 
 were given her in the days when her life lay before her, 
 clad in hope's delusive garb. 
 
 And Nora received many presents, as well as the one 
 which the kindly Jock could ill afford. James Biddulph's 
 father, who was rich, wrote a pleasant letter to his future 
 daughter-in-law, and sent her a pair of really magnificent 
 diamond ear-rings ; and Biddulph himself gave her some 
 beautiful diamond stars for her hair, and two valuable dia- 
 mond bracelets ; so with the splendid necklace the late 
 Colonel Biddulph had left her, Nora declared when she 
 wore them all she would be a blaze of shining stones. 
 
 And Biddulph's aunt. Lady Barbara Biddulph, the widow 
 of General Biddulph, who liad been the elder of the three 
 brothers, also sent Nora a gift, with a note which was char- 
 acteristic of the woman. 
 
 " Dear Miss Stewart (Nora read, with an amused smile) : 
 " My nephew James has written to inform me that you 
 and he are going to be married soon ; and, as it is custom- 
 ary for relations to do so on such occasions, I send you a 
 small present. I myself am no great believer in tiie hap- 
 piness of marriage, but some are, and I trust you will be 
 among them. 
 
 "Yours very truly, 
 
 '•Barbara Biddulph." 
 
 "But Aunt Bab is not half bad, really," said Biddulph, 
 with a laugh, after he had re.id this note. " I have known 
 her do some of the kindfist things." 
 
 The present was a handsome gold bracelet of rather 
 
 a rigid 
 pleased 
 
 antly. 
 Alick F 
 When 
 had giv 
 vanity, 
 and also 
 passed 
 
 It wa 
 the goo( 
 he kne\^ 
 talked 
 secret, s 
 And 5 
 to Bidd 
 Alick h 
 Nora, 
 made u 
 begin t( 
 Heh( 
 none o\ 
 sapphir 
 but a V 
 to say 1 
 "I w 
 her." i 
 Fraser 
 splend 
 as a ru 
 He 1 
 and a 
 them < 
 "W 
 said, r 
 things 
 grasp 
 at his 
 Foi 
 have 
 think 
 such 
 thous 
 this 
 moti 
 
A STRANG E MESSAGE, 
 
 167 
 
 i !■ i. 
 
 a rigid form. Still Nora was pleased to receive it, and 
 pleased to think her lover's people were to greet her pleas- 
 antly. But the gift which surprised her most came from 
 Alick Fraser. 
 
 When he first heard that her marriage day was fixed, he 
 had given way to a perfect storm of rage, in which wounded 
 vanity, disappointed love (or what he thought was love), 
 and also the remembrance of the coveted acres which had 
 passed away from him, were all strongly intermixed. 
 
 It was a bitter blow to him, in fact ; but Alick Fraser had 
 the good sense to make no display of his feelings. And 
 he knew, too, from the way in which his brother's family 
 talked to him of Nora's marriage, that she had kept his 
 secret, and told no one what he had offered to her. 
 
 And she had most honorably done this, not even hinting 
 to Biddulph of all the wealth she had refused. And when 
 Alick heard them talking at Airdlinn of the present for 
 Nora, he was determined to give her a present, too, and 
 made up his mind it should be such a one that she would 
 begin to doubt the wisdom of her choice. 
 
 He heard about the diamonds, of course, so he would have 
 none of them. He actually went up to town, and chose a 
 sapphire necklace and ear-rings of such value that no one 
 but a very rich man could have bought them ; and strange 
 to say he did not grudge the money. 
 
 "I will show her," he thought, ** what I could have given 
 her." And Nora, it must be admitted, had never liked Alick 
 Fraser so well as when he came in person to present his 
 splendid marriage gift. For there is no doubt that women, 
 as a rule, are fond of gauds. 
 
 He took her hand, as he was leaving, in his strong grip, 
 and a sort of softness crept into his brown eyes as he fixed 
 them on her lovely face. 
 
 " Well, Miss Nora Stewart, I wish you all happiness," he 
 said, not in his usual clear tones. "You know I wished 
 things different, but it was not to be ;" and, with another 
 grasp of the hand, he left, and Nora stood looking pensively 
 at his shining sapphires after he was gone. 
 
 For she was not a vain girl this, and it grieved her to 
 have given this strong man pain. Of course, she did not 
 think of the coveted acres, and naturally supposed that 
 such a rich man could only like her for herself. And she 
 thought it was so kind and generous of him to give her 
 this gorgeous present, too, not recognizing any mixed 
 motive here also. 
 
 • ■* 
 
iM 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 But Biddulph was not so charitable. Nora was still 
 looking at the sapphires lying in their satin beds, when 
 he catne into the drawing-room, and was at once attracted 
 by the massive circlet, set with magnificent stones. 
 
 ♦'What a splendid thing !" he exclaimed. "What mill- 
 ionnaire has given you this, Nora?" 
 
 " I want you to guess," she answered, smiling. 
 
 Hiddulph, who was rather a good judge of gems, took 
 the necklace from its case and examined it admiringly. 
 
 "They are perfect stones," he said, "and the setting is 
 magnificent. Well, who is the donor, my sweet ?" 
 
 "Ali(k Fraser." 
 
 " Mick "ra>er!" repeated Biddulph; and he put the 
 ncc ' ' rather hastily down. "Then the great Alick 
 miisi s; ' jeant to cut us all out." 
 
 "Ti. . is ' very mean speech, and I won't allow Mr. 
 Biddulph to nu.ke it," said Nora, playfully putting her 
 pretty hand ovc his lips. 
 
 lie held it there, and kissed it tenderly. 
 
 "Perhaps I am jealous," he said, "and it makes me 
 spiteful. Have I any reason to be, Nora?" 
 
 "No, none, none," she answered ; "but you know very 
 well you have none." 
 
 " I hope not. The ' green-eyed monster' is not a creat- 
 ure I should like to nurse in my bosom. To me love 
 means perfect trust." 
 
 "It is perfect trust. But here is Cousin Margaret." 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope entered smilingly. 
 
 " More presents ?" she said, glancing at the case lying 
 on the table. 
 
 "The present, Mrs. Conway-Hope," answered Biddulph. 
 "The richest man in the neighborhood has been deter- 
 mined to prove that he is so. These are truly regal." 
 
 Mrs. Con w.'iy-l lope examined the sappliires with her 
 short-sisjlited eves. 
 
 " I suppose tiiey are real ?" slie said, touching them with 
 her bony fingers. 
 
 " I suppose so," replied Hiddulph, in a mock doubtful 
 tone. 
 
 "Oh, Cousin Margaret, Mr. Alick Frascr has just 
 brought them ! Real ? I should think so ; they are 
 splendid!" cried Nora, indignantly. 
 
 "Mr. Alick Fraser ! Well, I am surprised, dear Xora. 
 I always understiH)d Mr. Alick was what the Scotch call 
 * acar * — uncommonly 'near,' I have been told." 
 
 ^Mmmtt/mtmam 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 169 
 
 "Well, he has not shown it in his present, at all events," 
 said Nora, fastening her jewel-case. 
 
 '' Apparently not. Well, my dear Nora, if I am not in 
 tlic way, I want to talk to you about the arrangements for 
 the fifi'h." 
 
 " Which politely means that I am in the way," laughed 
 Biddulph. " Please, Mrs. Conway-Hope, make the ar- 
 rangements as short as you can." 
 
 " But things must be done properly, Mr. Biddulph • 
 and, living so far in the country as this is, requires much 
 consideration on the part of those who have the responsi- 
 bility." 
 
 " i quite agree with you. Good-by, then, for the pres- 
 ent, Nora;" and Biddulph smiled, and went away. 
 
 This conversation took place on the ist of December, 
 and Nora's wedding day was fixed for the fifth. It was to 
 be a very quiet affair, by tlie bride's wish ; but still, as 
 Mrs. Conway Hope justly suggested „ the country a 
 great many arrangements are required tO : made before- 
 hand, even for a small party. And tV r, i... ra had invited 
 her two friends — Maud and Alice -.?c -to stay with her 
 for the occasion, and also Lord GIcmio yre was to be one 
 of the house party. 
 
 Nora's reason for asking the gooc -ivjoking Anglo-Indian 
 siie kept a profound secret, even from Biddulph. But the 
 truth was that Glendoyne had paid pretty Mary Fraser a 
 great deal of attention, and then had gone south without 
 saying anything serious to the young girl ; and Nora had 
 heard from her father, and had herself noticed a great 
 change in this fair Highland flower, even before the mis- 
 erable event which had cast so deep a shadow on the 
 household at Airdlinn. 
 
 Minnie was to be one of Nora's bridesmaids, and it came 
 into Nora's kind heart that, if Glendoyne would come 
 north for the wedding, there might be a chance of a match 
 between them after all. Nora had always been on very 
 friendly terms with Glendoyne, whose languor rather 
 amused her, and whose graceful manner made him a very 
 agreeable companion. She therefore invited him to come 
 to Rossmore on the fourth of December, and was very 
 pleased when he accepted the invitation. 
 
 Thus Nora expected four guests to stay with her, for 
 she had also asked old Mr. Biddulph and Lady Barbara 
 Biddulph. But the old lawyer had begged to be excused. 
 
 " It is too far for me to go in the winter time at my 
 
 \¥\ 
 
 m 
 
lyo 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 age," he had written to Nora ; "but I am looking forward 
 to seeing my new daughter under my own roof." 
 
 Lady Barbara, however, who was very energetic, had 
 accepted the invitation, and was also to arrive at Ross- 
 more on the fourth of December. Thus there were ar- 
 rangements to be made, and Mrs. Conway-Hope felt her- 
 self justified in turning out the lover occasionally, whom 
 she indeed found terribly in the way. 
 
 Biddulph, in truth, was never happy out of Nora's 
 siglit. He could scarcely understand himself how this 
 absorbing passion filled his whole being. 
 
 " If I read a page," he told her, " I want to talk to you 
 about it ; and when I am not near you, I feel as if I had 
 lost something, but when I begin to look about for it, I 
 remember it is — Nora! " 
 
 «" He's unco' fond of her," the doctor (who was also to 
 be one of the wedding guests) said once to Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope, while he was feeling her pulse ; " that's plain to 
 see. His bonny gray eyes grow saft each time they fa' 
 upon her face." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE EVE. 
 
 It was a busy day, the fourth of December, at Ross- 
 more, and the sun shone brightly during the morning, 
 and the wedding guests arrived without accident or de- 
 lay. 
 
 The girls, Maud and Alice Lee, had enjoyed the long, 
 cold journey, because Lord Glendoyne, by Nora's arrange- 
 ment, had met them at Edinburgh, where they had stayed 
 the night, and escorted them the rest of the way. But 
 Lady Barbara, who had travelled only with her maid, had 
 found the weather chill and drear, and the journey long. 
 True, Biddulph had met her at the station nearest Ross- 
 more, but she was somewhat in an irritable mood. 
 
 " f f ^ had known it was so far, and the wind so cutting, 
 I never would have come, James, I can tell you that," she 
 said, as her nephew handed her out of the railway car- 
 riage, and her rugs and furs after her. *' Your father was 
 quite right." 
 
 She was an erect, gray-haired, keen-eyed woman, past 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 «7I 
 
 
 liddle age, and was supposed always to speak her mind. 
 )he did this as sho entered the softly-lighted drawing- 
 room at Rossmore half an hour later, when Biddulph led 
 |hcr up and introduced her to his promised bride. 
 
 " So you are Leonora Stewart, are you ? " said Lady 
 [Barbara^ keenly regarding her. " Well, you are good to 
 jlook at, anyhow." 
 
 " Her looks are not the best of he, Aunt Bab," said 
 iBiddulph, as his eyes rested proudly and fondly on the 
 Iwoman of his choice. 
 
 Nora was, in truth, looking very handsome. The ex- 
 
 Icitemeht had lent a lovely blush to her fair cheeks, and 
 
 she was dressed to perfection in dark-green plush and ot- 
 
 jter. Her manner, too, was very charming, as she clasped 
 
 [Lady Barbara's bony hand. 
 
 " It is so good of you to come, Lady Barbara, all that 
 [long way," she said. 
 
 "If I had known it would have been so cold," answered 
 iLady Barbara, "as I have been telling this nephew of 
 mine, nothing should have induced me to come. But, as I 
 ara here, I have no doubt I shall enjoy myself as much as 
 [any one ever does at weddings, at least." 
 
 Nora laughed softly, and saw about Lady Bab's comforts. 
 [Then she took her up to the warm, comfortable bedroom 
 that was prepared for her, and Lady Bab glanced round 
 I approvingly. 
 
 "You have a nice place here," she said. "The old 
 |coloners place that James inherited is not far off, is it ? " 
 
 "Just across the loch." 
 
 " So you two were neighbors, and fell in love with each 
 [other, I suppose? Well, I think James has made a good 
 choice, as far as I can see, and I hope he will make a good 
 I husband." 
 
 " I have no fear." 
 
 "Quite right to stand up to him; and I expect and 
 trust that he will. But don't let me detain you from your 
 other guests. I shall make my appearance at dinner-time." 
 
 And a very good appearance it was. When Lady Bar- 
 [bara re-entered the drawing-room, she wore velvet and 
 point lace, and, with her gray hair and diamonds, looked 
 I a very dignified lady indeed. 
 
 I The whole party soon assembled, and Jock Fraser, with 
 [his shy, pretty, fair Minnie leaning on his arm, presently 
 ! entered the room. Nora led him up to Lady Bab, who 
 received him graciously. 
 
 
 I 5 
 
 
ifa 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 "And are you to be at the wedding to-morrow, Mr. Fra.| 
 ser ? " she asked. 
 
 "I am to have the honor of giving away the bride,"' 
 answered Jock. 
 
 "She's a handsome creature," said Lady Bab. "It's i| 
 pity she's a little lame." 
 
 "But that was an accident, you know, and will all go 
 right in time. I shall never forget the day it happened ; " 
 and Jock sighed, and a far-away look came into nis kind 
 brown eyes, for he was thinking of his boy. 
 
 Mrs. Jock had refused to come, and also had declined 
 to appear at the marriage ceremony. 
 
 " Don't ask me, Nora, my dear," she said, when Nora 
 was pressing her to do so, and tears came into her blue 
 eyes as she spoke ; " it would only upset me. Jock will 
 take Minnie. I am better at home." 
 
 And Nora felt that perhaps this was true. Mrs. Jock's 
 jealous love for her son would have made her miserable 
 seeing another occupy a place she had fondly hoped would 
 have been his. But she had sent her Minnie ; and this fair 
 girl, with a blush and a start, had recognized Lord Glen* 
 doyne, whom she had not expected to see. 
 
 He crossed the room, and shook hands with her in his 
 usual languid, elegant way. 
 
 " And how have you been ? " he said, just as though he 
 had parted with her yesterday. 
 
 "Very well — at least, not very well," answered Minnie, 
 with heaving breast and trembling lips. 
 
 She was wondering if he knew all the dreadful story 
 about poor Malcolm, and of their trouble and grief. Glen- 
 doyne did know all about it. On the way from Edinburgh 
 Maud Lee had told him the sad details, and said she was 
 so sorry for " poor Minnie." 
 
 "And so am I," he had answered ; and he felt really 
 sorry, but the little girl who had been telling him did 
 not. Maud Lee remembered, as she graphically detailed 
 the tragedy in the glen, that Lord Glendoyne was sup- 
 posed to admire Minnie Fraser, so she thought it as well 
 that he should know all the disadvantages of the fam- 
 ily. 
 
 But after dinner was over, to Maud Lee*s annoyance, 
 Glendoyne found his way to Minnie's side instead of her 
 own. He was a very gentlemanly man, and the thought 
 of the poor girl's trouble made him more attentive to her 
 than, perhaps, he had intended to be. 
 
A Sl'RANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 t7i 
 
 "Minnie look: verv pretty and very happy," whispered 
 Nora to Biddulph, who was bending over her. 
 
 *' I know some one else who looks very pretty and very 
 happy too," he answered. 
 
 " I don't know about being pretty, but I know I am 
 very happy," she said, softly, looking up at his handsome 
 face. 
 
 She felt proud of him — proud of his love, and his good 
 looks. There was no one like him, she thought ; and Lady 
 Barbara, looking at these two at this moment wLh her keen 
 gray eyes, was satisfied that their affection for each other 
 was very great. 
 
 They kept the party up late, but at last Jock Fraser rose 
 and said it was time for Minnie and himself to be crossing 
 the water. Biddulph also was going to return to Dunbaan, 
 as it is not consider . d lucky for the bridegroom to sleep 
 in the house the night before the marriage. Nora went 
 out of the drawing-room with Minnie, ?nd after she had 
 parted with her half-cousins, she was recrossing trie hall, 
 when she encountered Biddulph. 
 
 " I have waited for one last sweet kiss," he said, drawing 
 her arm through his. "Come down this corridor, Nora, 
 and we shall be alone." 
 
 She went with him, and he took her in his arms. 
 
 " I like Aunt Bab," she said, softly, lifting her dewy eyes 
 to his. 
 
 " I did not come here to talk about Aunt Bab, my dear- 
 est, my sweetest love. I thank Heaven this is our last 
 parting ! " 
 
 About an hour later, perhaps, Biddulph was sitting in 
 his own library at Dunbaan, thinking of Nora still, and no 
 man ever thought of his future wife with more complete 
 content. Nora Stewart satisfied every wish of his heart, 
 and '^ very desire of his soul. She was a perfect woman, 
 to his mind, physically and mentally — the fairest, purest, 
 and most lovable he had ever known. And to-morrow 
 was his wedding day ! To-morrow by this time he and 
 Nora would be far away from here — far nway from a 
 place, haunted for th'^m both with such painful recollec- 
 tions still. 
 
 He got up to stir the fire and light his pipe. He had t<>t 
 been in the room many minutes when he did this, and as he 
 bent oyer the fire, a slight noise behind him attracted his 
 
 m 
 
 •^,i 
 
 -r^fSW*^- 
 
^f^' 
 
 r\ 
 
 m 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE 
 
 attention. He turned sharply round, and as he did so, he 
 staggered back, the poker fell from his hand, and a look of 
 unutterable horror and dread came over his face. 
 
 "Was he mad? Had his brain suddenly reeled over?" 
 he thought, with quick fear. Therey standing between the 
 half-parted window curtains, which had been closed when 
 he entered the room, was the form, the mocking face, of 
 the woman who had once been his wife, whom he had seen 
 lain in her grave in the kirk-yard at Balla ! 
 
 Biddulph was a brave man, but an inexpressible shudder^ 
 ing dread passed over him at this moment. He put his 
 hand up to his head, he rubbed his eyes ; it might be a de- 
 lusion. It was there still ; and the next moment the fa- 
 miliar voice, the voice of the dead^ sounded on his shocked 
 ears ! 
 
 " I am afraid I have given you a start." 
 
 "Woman \ fiend ! why are you here ?" now burst from 
 Biddulph's white lips. "Why have you risen from the 
 dead to disturb my peace ?" 
 
 " Perhaps I have not risen from the dead," answered 
 those mocking lips ; and the for7n slowly advanced toward 
 him. " I'm awfully cold, James ; may \ come beside the 
 fire and have a chat ? " 
 
 Biddulplk stood staring at her, bewildered — horrifieu. 
 
 " You think I am a ghost, but I am not. There! feel my 
 hand and my arm ; they are substantial enough ; " and she 
 laughed. 
 
 She put out her hand and touched Biddulph's as she 
 spoke ; the hand was warm. And the man, with wide dis- 
 tended eyes, with loathing, with sudden anguish, gazing at 
 her face, saw it was seemingly the face of a living woman 
 — the face of Natalie. Oh, God, the face of Natalie ! 
 
 " What hideous farce is this ? " he cried. " I saw you 
 die ; I saw you dead ! How — how are you here ? " 
 
 " My poor James, do you know I feel quite sorry for you. 
 I admit you have been the victim of a shabby trick, and, 
 on my honor, if I had not been obliged to do it, I should 
 have let you believe I was dead still ! It was not me you 
 saw die, it was not me you saw dead ; it was my twin-sister 
 Josephine, and no one could ever tell the difference be- 
 tween us." 
 
 "Your twin-sister?" repeated Biridalph, hoarsely, still | 
 staring at her face. " I never heard of a twin-sister— of | 
 any sister." 
 
 The woman shrugged her shoulders. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 '75 
 
 " No, we did not mention the name of poor Josephine in 
 ihe family circle. The truth is, James, that my twin-sister 
 Josephine made a sad fool of herself in her youth, uome 
 jTcars before 1 saw you, and ran away with a married man, 
 md went down, down, I don't know where — very low, at 
 my rate, and my mother would never hear her name men- 
 iioned. She was supposed to be dead, in fact, but, strange 
 ^0 relate, she cast up last year, when I was at Monte Carlo, 
 jefore I came down here to see you, you know, after you 
 rot your money ; but naturally I said nothing about \i^,x to 
 ^ou." 
 
 "And you mean to tell me," said Biddulph, forcing him- 
 self to speak, and then pausing, overcome by the horror of 
 the position in which he found himself — "you mean to tell 
 -me — that you are " 
 
 *' I am Natalie Biddulph, if every one had their dues. 
 Jut I declare I am sorry for you. I did not know until I 
 jot here to-night that to-morrow was to be your second 
 iredding day. You have been pretty quick about it, you 
 mow, James, for a despairing widower ; " and again she 
 laughed. 
 
 This misplaced mirth roused Biddulph to sudden fury. 
 
 " I believe it's all a hateful lie ! " he cried. " I believe 
 [you are a fiend — some fiend in that woman's shape ! \ saw 
 lyou dead. Go! Don't speak another word, for you are 
 [dead to me ! '* 
 
 But the woman did not flinch. 
 
 " It's all very fine talking like that," she said ; "but I'm 
 [«<?/ dead, and I'm forced to come down herw and tell you 
 ♦he whole story, because I'm so hard up. There — don't 
 swear, but that's the truth. I've had a frightftjl run of ill- 
 luck at Monte Carlo, and could only scrape enough money 
 together to get back to England, and come down here — 
 indeed, I had to borrow it — and I must have some, James. 
 And, if you like, if you will pay me well for it, I'll pretend 
 I to be dead still." 
 
 No word came from James Biddulph's writhing lips. 
 I He covered his face with his hand ; intense anguish over- 
 Iwhclmed his soul. 
 
 " Come, you need not break your heart about it. I ad- 
 |mit il s rough on you, but I can't help myself. And it wr^s 
 (not my scheme, but poor Josephine's own that made her 
 come to such an awful end. You remember the letter you 
 I wrote me, telling me that it had got blown about here that 
 I wag really your wife ? Well, when I got that letter I wa» 
 
 1!^ 
 
176 
 
 A ^TkANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 in a great rage, because you said in it you would put 
 back on my old allowance, if the story of our marriag 
 came out. Josephine was with me in town then, and sh 
 urged me to go down to Scotland again, and get mon 
 money out of you, as she said, you evidently would pay 
 any amount to keep the matter a secret. But I was 
 at the time, and, as I told her, our interviews were neve 
 overpleasant. Then she proposed to personate me, and! 
 declared you would never find out the difference." 
 
 Biddulph put his hand down, and again began staring atl 
 the woman's face with a stern, searching look in his eyed 
 
 " We were the living image of each other, that's the truthjj 
 even to the little brown mole on my cheek. You remer 
 ber the little mole, don't you ? " 
 
 Biddulph shuddered, spoke no word, but kept his eyej| 
 steadily on her face. 
 
 "Poor Josephine had little or no money, and wanted tol 
 raise some to try her luck at the gambling-tables, as we hadl 
 fixed to go to Monte Carlo together. Well, to make a long! 
 story short, we settled between us that she was to goto! 
 Scotland and endeavor to get a thousand pounds froinl 
 you as a little extra hush-money ; and she was quite sure! 
 you would never find out the difference between us. I] 
 wrote the letters, but poor Josephine was the woman you! 
 were suspected of murdering. So you see, I am not al 
 ghost, after all." 
 
 As she paused, Biddulph started to his feet, went up tol 
 her, and, seizing her by the hand, drew her beneath tliel 
 bright lamp. 
 
 " Let me look at you," he said, hoarsely, gazing gloomilyl 
 at her face. " How do I know you are not lying now, at 
 you have lied all your life ? There were two of you, youj 
 said — two devils. How do I know which you are ?" 
 
 " I am Natalie," said the woman, moving uneasily. 
 
 *' You look changed. I begin to doubt. I shall see youl 
 both face to face — the living and the dead. Then I shall! 
 know." 
 
 " You won't drag the poor woman out of her grave, sur^| 
 ly, will you ? Oh, James, spare me this ! " 
 
 " Have you spared me ?" he answered, in a hollow voice. | 
 " Do you know what you have done ? To-morrow — 
 
 A groan broke from his white lips as he uttered the last I 
 word, and his expression was so terrible that it moved cvcn| 
 the woman's callous heart to some sort of pity. 
 
 *• Don't make such a row about it," she said. *' Qti mar- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 177 
 
 led to-morrow, as you intended, and I'll not say a single 
 ford. I'll go away early in the morning, if you'll give me 
 check for five thousand pounds, and no one shall ever 
 [now I've been here, except that old man of yours, and 
 )u can bribe him, too." 
 
 Biddulph flung back her hand as she said this, which he 
 iad been still holding in his fierce grip, and once more 
 ink down on a chair, and again covered his face with his 
 md. 
 
 A temptation, powerful, horrible, had rushed into his 
 Ijcart. Should he take her at her word — pay her, and let 
 ier go away, whoever she might be ? Her face seemed 
 (hanged to him — older, harder, but still the same face — 
 |bc face that had been the black bane of his life, and had 
 jow come to snatch the cup of joy from his lips. 
 
 Should he do this ? Again he looked up. The woman 
 |iad turned her back to him, and was warming her feet at 
 ic fire, as he remembered at this moment seeing Natalie 
 Ic, when she had been in his room before. But how did 
 lie know this was Natalie ? This hideous doubt — this like- 
 ness, which the woman admitted was so strong, made the 
 iifference to him between misery and joy, between happi- 
 ness and unutterable shame ! 
 
 And Nora ? At this moment Biddulph's eyes fell on one 
 )f Nora's photographs, which was standing framed on the 
 lantle-piece, and as he looked at it, at the fair, noble, 
 rentle face, that dark and doubtful expression passed away 
 from his own. 
 
 '* I will not lie to her, I will not deceive her," he mentally 
 
 lecided. " I shall go to her now, and tell her the truth ; 
 
 land to-morroWj the woman that is lying dead at Balla 
 
 land this woman shall be put face to face — then I shall 
 
 Iknow." 
 
 He had made up his mind. He moved slightly, and the 
 [woman at the fire-place turned round and looked at him. 
 
 " Well," she said, " will you agree to this ? Give me five 
 Ithousand pounds, and I'll not interfere with you. I sup- 
 [pose this is the lady ? " and she pointed to Nora's portrait. 
 "Yes," answered Biddulph, with intense bitterness, ** that 
 |ij the lady ; and he crossed the room as he spoke, and took 
 Nora's picture in his hand. " Look at her face ! " and he 
 held the photograph where the woman could more plainly 
 see it — "the face of a pure woman, of a woman with an 
 angel soul — to whom evil is an unknown thing, and sin but 
 I a aamf ! This woman was to be my wife to-morrow ; and 
 
 r 
 
 I 
 
178 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 when we talked of our future life, how do you think w^ 
 planned to spend it ? " 
 
 " As most people do, I suppose," answered the woman,! 
 with a shrug. I 
 
 " Not in gambling, nor drunkenness," said Biddulph,! 
 with scathing scorn. ** We planned to spend it in honest] 
 work, and trying to do some little good. And do you 
 think I'd deceive such a one for you? Do you think I 
 would bribe you to go away to-night, and fear you always 
 like a nightmare ? Don't I know what you would do if I 
 were to put the hush-money, as you call it, into your hand? 
 You would lose it at your favorite gambling-tables, and 
 then come for more ! Come with a threat — a hint, perhapj^ | 
 in the ears of my pure wife ! " 
 
 " What do you mean to do, then ? '* 
 
 " I will tell you what I mean to do. I shall go now and I 
 tell the truth to the woman I was to marrv to-morrow ; and 
 I shall have the grave opened, where I believe Natalie is | 
 sleeping stilL" 
 
 " Then, you don't believe a word of what I've been tell- 
 ing you ? " 
 
 " I do not. I believe you are this *. in-sister, this Jo-I 
 sephine you pretend came here." 
 
 *' I swear I am not, James. And jut think what you are I 
 going to dc ; think what this poor young lady even will 
 feel, and — and all the dreadful scene v.,u will make if you 
 open poor Josephine's grave. ^yh&\ .s a little money to j 
 this ? " and she approached him, andtr ed to take his hand, 
 but he pushed her away, " Give me two thousand, then, 
 less even, rather ^han ill this." 
 
 Biddulj^ Ii gave a b- .^h and bitter laugh. 
 
 "No," ne said, '* I will know the truth. You have 
 brought this on yourself, Josephine, or Natalie, whichever 
 you be, and I mean to lock you up here until I return from 
 Rossmore ; you shall not escape me now." 
 
 " I should never have come if I had not been reduced to 
 my last shilling. Will you give me something to drink, for 
 I am half fainting." 
 
 He crossed the room and opened a cabinet, where 
 wine and spirits were standing, and the woman eagerly 
 drank some brandy. Biddulph watched her curiously as 
 she did so, and her look and attitude seemed terribly fa- 
 miliar. 
 
 "Thut has done me good," she said, drawing a long 
 brcaib, " I can't get on without it now," 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGM, 
 
 »» 
 
 " You had better take some more, then," he answered. 
 
 \ am going now. I shall not be long away." 
 
 He left the room as he spoke, locking the door behind 
 bim, and putting the key into his pocket. Then he opened 
 fhe house door and looked out. It was a dark and stormy 
 night, fierce gusts of wind and rain driving past him. 
 
 " It is no matter," he thought, gloomily ; " what can any- 
 thing matter to a man going on an errand such as mino ?" 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A BITTER HOUR. 
 
 No man ever went out, perhaps, with mor6 bitter and 
 agonized feelings in his heart than James Biddulph did, 
 )n the dark night when he started upon his perilous row 
 icross the loch, to carry such news to Nora Stewart that 
 the very thought of it seemed to him more terrible than 
 Ideath. 
 
 The rain beat on his pale, rigid face, and the wild blast 
 [swept around him, but he never felt them. There was a 
 Istorm raging in his own heart darker than the elein-.r ts. 
 [It was too horrible, this coming back in life of the face he 
 [had seen still in death — the face, or a semblance to it, so 
 [close, so near, that Biddulph shuddered when he recailr vi 
 [the once familiar features. 
 
 And, strange, there flashed a memory across his trnutj, 
 |as he went on toward the wet and slippery little pier, vcr 
 |which the water was now dashing, of twin-brotlicrs h< had 
 known in his young manhood, whose liker -s to each other 
 jwas so great that no one ever knew the d erence between 
 'them when they were apart. When th . were together, 
 however, there was a subtle shade of (i'^tinction, though 
 jthe lineaments were line -or line, th« coloring tint for 
 tint. 
 
 Was this woman, then, lying or speaking the truth ? 
 Was this the wife he had wedded long ago, and whose 
 claims and existence had been a burden almost too heavy 
 to be borne ; or was it the twin-sister, the dusky pages of 
 whose life had been too soiled even to be mentioned under 
 Madame Beranger's dubious roof-tree ? 
 
 It was the horror of this doubt whicl filled Blddulph's 
 soul with such overwhelming agony. Ho reached the little 
 
 »?ii 
 i^'\ 
 
 % V. 
 
slo 
 
 A STRANGR MESSAGE, 
 
 pier like \ rnan after he has heard his death-sentence,! 
 Outward things — the black, storm-tossed waters of the loch,! 
 the drifting rain, the howling blast — were as nothing tol 
 him. He saw only two faces — the dark, uncomely middld 
 aged one ; and the fair, serene features of the beautiful! 
 woman who to-morrow was to have been his wife. 
 
 He found the boats were all secure in the boat-house,! 
 and the door was locked. In his dark mood, to speak to 
 anyone was almost intolerable ; yet he was forced to do 
 this, and the necessity was no doubt good for him. One 
 of the keepers l.ad charge of the boats, and this man and 
 his son acted as boatmen when Biddulph required to cross 
 the loch. They lived in a cottage close to the water's edge, | 
 and thither he was now obliged to proceed, and with dif- 
 ficulty awoke the sleeping inmates. 
 
 When the man opened the door, his surprise was naturally I 
 very great. There stood his master in the drenching rain, I 
 and there was a look in Biddulph's face which at once told I 
 the keeper that something tragic had occurred. But when j 
 he heard what Biddulph wanted, he still ventured tol 
 remonstrate. 
 
 " It's na' safe, sir," he said, "the water's fearful rough." 
 
 " It is no matter," answered Biddulph, almost harshly; 
 " I ask no man to risk his life ; I am going alone. " 
 
 " Na, na, that car.na' be," said the keeper ; ** Jim and I'll: 
 gan wi' ye, if ye must gan." 
 
 The man knew that to-morrow was to be his master's 
 wedding-day, and thought something had gone wrong, and 
 began iiurrying on his clothes, after calling his son. 
 
 " Is there danger ?" asked Biddulph, briefly. 
 
 •* I'll na' say there's nane,. sir," answered the keeper, with 
 a doleful siiake of the head. 
 
 " Then I'll go alone. Send the lad down to push off the 
 boat ; that is all I shall require." 
 
 As Biddulph said this he turned away and walked gloom- 
 ily back to the boat-bouse, whither he was quickly followed 
 by the keeper and his son. But he would not let the men 
 go with him. He was a good oarsman, and presently he 
 found himself fighting with the stormy water beneath a 
 dark and murky sky. The wind, luckily, rather subsided; 
 but the rain fell in drenching torrents, and it was all he 
 could do to manage the boat. It was not far to go ; and 
 presently a twinkling light became visible to his keen ey«8, 
 moving about in the house of Rossmore, which stands high 
 above the loch. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 Xfl 
 
 At last, breathless, storm-beaten, he reached the landing- 
 f)lace and secured the boat. He gave a heavy sigh, stood 
 (till for a moment, and thought of the bitter task wliich 
 BOW lay before him. How was he to find words to tell 
 ^uch a tale ? — tell it to the girl whose sweet kiss had rested 
 )n his lips not two hours ago ? A groan broke from his 
 lips now, a groan of unutterable pain ; and then slowly, 
 almost feebly, he began to ascend the steep hill which leads 
 b the house at Rossmore, telling himself as he went that 
 Jic wished the dark waters had swallowed him up, and that 
 |hc had not lived to speak the shameful words. 
 
 He rang the house-bell, and at first there was no answer. 
 [Alfred had retired to bed, and the only people still up were 
 [Nora herself and her maid, Palmer, who was engaged 
 [packing Nora's wedding garments. These two heard the 
 ring, and, on Biddulph repeating it, Palmer ventured down- 
 [stairs, and Nora went on the landing to hear who it was. 
 
 "Ask who it is before you open the door," said Nora; 
 land Palmer accordingly, in her shrill voice, called through 
 the keyhole : 
 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 " It is I — Mr. Biddulph ! " answered Biddulph from out- 
 |side ; and Palmer immediately gave a shriek. 
 
 "Oh, lor, miss, it's Mr. Biddulph!" she cried. "He's 
 been upset, I believe, crossing the loch ; I said to Alfred 
 it was not fit for him to go. Oh dear, oh dear, I dare not 
 open the door i " 
 
 " What folly ! " said Nora, though she too grew very pale ; 
 and then, as quickly as her still weak ankles would allow 
 her, she hurried downstairs. 
 
 " Is that you, James ? " she asked, as she proceeded to 
 unlock the door. 
 
 '• Yes," answered a voice, so changed that Nora hardly 
 recognized it ; and with trembling hands she undid the 
 chain and opened the door ; and there, wet:, with the pallor 
 of death almost on his face, stood her bridegroom — the man 
 who in a few short hours she was about to wed. 
 
 " What is the matter ? What has happened ? " she asked 
 breathlessly, and with a sinking heart, holding out both 
 her hands, and grasping Biddulph's chill, cold ones. 
 
 " Let me go in, and — I will try to tell you," answered 
 the same hoarse, changed voice. 
 
 And then she led him in, led him across the hall to the 
 dining-room, where a good fire was still burning, and called 
 to Palmer to bring lights and brandy. She thought his 
 
 V* !| 
 
 |.#:| 
 
 m. 
 
 if 
 
 " -itf-ta-i'-^aitg aWl l p l^p iy i ww i ' ■.. .■ ' 
 
z8a 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 
 boat had been upset, and that he was a half-drowned man, 
 dazed and stupefied with struggling in the dark water fori 
 his life. 
 
 " My dearest, my dearest," she whispered tenderly, push-l 
 ing off his wet cap and drying his dark hair. "How did 
 it happen, James ? But do not speak ; drink this brandy-- 1 
 it will do you good." 
 
 He drank the spirit, and then, with a sort of moan, sank 
 down in a chair, Nora still holding his hand and gazing i 
 anxiously in his face. 
 
 " Are you a little better now ? Shall Palmer ^all up 
 Alfred ? You must change all your things," she said. 
 
 Then he lifted his haggard face and looked at her. 
 
 ** No ; send Palmer away — there is something I must say 
 to you." 
 
 Palmer at once discreetly went away, though she felt 
 strongly^tempted to hover near the door. But she w.-xs a 
 young woman, she considered, of high principles, and 
 thereiore she did not like to put her ear exactly to the key- 
 hole. She did not go very far off, however, for she told 
 herself that Mr. Biddulph might require assistance, and slie 
 ought to be at hand to help her young mistress. 
 
 " What is it, dear James ? " said Nora, putting her arm 
 softly round his shoulder, and bending down her sweet 
 face close to his. 
 
 A groan broke from the unhappy man as she did so. 
 His head fell back for a moment on her white arm, which 
 her loose dressing-gown sleeve had slipped back from, and 
 again he lifted his gray eyes to her face, which were full 
 of such unutterable pain and anguish that Nora's heart 
 seemed to faint within her. 
 
 "What is it?" she faltered again, creeping closer to him 
 and laying her lips upon his brow. • 
 
 He started up, pushed her gently back, and began walk- 
 ing up and down the room with irregular, hasty steps. 
 
 "Would to God I were dead," he said, with deep emotion, 
 "rather than speak the words I must now say to you!" 
 
 " I do not understand," murmured Nora, white-lipped. 
 
 " Understand ! No, Nora;" and he went back to her ; and 
 clasped both her hands. "When I parted with you to- 
 night I deemed myself the happiest man on earth — I was 
 the happiest — and now I am the most miserable." 
 
 "Oh, James!" 
 
 " I went home thinking of you, my love, my love ! I was 
 thinking of you — thinking how to-morrow 70u would be 
 
A STRAiyCK MESS A a /i. 
 
 '83 
 
 ^ned man, 
 water fori 
 
 u}^' P"sh. 
 I Wow did 
 
 brandy-, I 
 
 (oan, sanlci 
 
 »^ gazing 
 
 up 
 
 fr .all 
 Isaid. 
 I her. 
 must say 
 
 she felt 
 
 he w.-xa a 
 
 pJes, and 
 
 3 the key. 
 
 she told 
 
 ', and she 
 
 ' her arm 
 ler sweet 
 
 e did so. 
 n, which 
 rom, and 
 vere full 
 I's heart 
 
 r to him 
 
 in walk- 
 eps. 
 motion, 
 )u ! " 
 pped. 
 er ; and 
 ^ou to- 
 — I was 
 
 ! I was 
 L4ld be 
 
 with me, near me, and I Iicard a faint noise behind me. I 
 looked round, and what do you think I saw ?" 
 
 " How can I tell ? Oh, James, how can I tell ? " 
 
 " I thought my brain had played me some trick at first, 
 or that the dead woman had risen from the grave to disturb 
 niy peace. Nora, I saw standing there the form, the face, 
 of the woman I saw die, whom I saw dead ! But this woman 
 was not dead ; she came forward, she spoke to me, and she 
 told me such a tale of horror that my blood seemed to 
 freeze in my veins." 
 
 Nora started back, clasped her hands together, and stood 
 gazing at him with wide-open, terror-stricken eyes. 
 
 " She told me," went on Biddulph, excitedly, " that it was 
 all a plot, all a trick ; that the woman who was shot in the 
 Glen of Balla was not Natalie Beranger, whom I married 
 long ago, whom I surely believed I saw laid in her grave 
 in the kirkyard, but her twin-sister; that this twin-sister had 
 personated her for the purpose of getting more money 
 from me to spend at the gambling tables. She said that 
 she was Natalie ; and she offered to take five thousand 
 pounds and go away." 
 
 A cry escaped Nora's white lips, and she staggered back- 
 ward and covered her face with her hand. 
 
 " Yes, you may well shrink back, Nora ; for it is horrible, 
 too horrible ! And I am not sure, a hideous doubt is in 
 my mind, whether this is true or false ; whether the woman 
 who stood talking to me ivas Natalie or this twin-sister, of 
 whose existence before I never heard. She said no one 
 could ever tell the difference between them. But lies are 
 nothing to her ; she forced me to marry her by a lie — this 
 may be a lie, too." 
 
 " But surely you could tell," faltered Nora, whose face 
 was now deadly pale. 
 
 ** I could not. This woman looked older, harder ; but 
 there was a look in her eyes as she drank some brandy" 
 (and Biddulph shuddered) — "a look familiar, hateful ; the 
 look I have seen a hundred times on Natalie's face long 
 ago, when she was drinkin;^;— that filled my soul with dread. 
 But I shall know ; I will see these two, the living and the 
 dead sister, face to face, then I shall know ! " 
 
 "Oh this is too dreadful, too dreadful!" 
 
 " She asked me to spare her this," continued Biddulph, 
 with intense bitterness — " spare her, who had spoilt my 
 life when I believed her living, and now has come back to 
 blight and darken yours ! But I will not spare her ; she 
 
 r n 
 
 " m 
 
sS4 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 shall stand there face to face with her dead sister, Natalie 
 or Josephine, whichever she be ; and I will know the hid- 
 ecus truth." 
 
 Nora moaned, and a deadly faintness crept over her, and 
 everything grew dim to her sight. 
 
 " Oh, my poor love ! " cried Biddulph ; and he went up 
 to her, and took her in his arms, and pillowed Iier head 
 upori his breast. " My bitterest anguish in all this has 
 been for you. And that fiend tempted me. She knew 
 to-morrow was our wedding-day, and she promised to 
 keep the secret and go away, if I would pay her enough. 
 And I thought of this — my Nora, forgive me — till my 
 eyes fell on your sweet pictured face, and I swore I would 
 not wrong nor deceive an angel such as you." 
 
 "Tell me what — you think," faltered Nora, in broken 
 accents, half raising her head. " Is — there — any hope ?" 
 
 "My darling, I trust, I pray so. I told her I believed 
 that she herself was this twin-sister, but she swore she 
 was not. But to women such as they are oaths are 
 nothing. She wanted money, and might think she could 
 wring more from me by pretending suO was the woman 
 who stood between me and happiness, than as the twin- 
 sister of a dead wife ? This is my hope, Nora ; but before 
 we can be sure of this, there must be some necessary 
 delay. I shall have to get authority to open the grave in 
 Balla kirkyard. Yes, you may well shudder, my poor 
 darling, my beautiful one ; between you, so pure, so fair, 
 and this degraded creature, living or dead, the gap is too 
 great! 'TIs enough to make a man put a pistol to his 
 throat ; too horrible almost to think of and live." 
 
 There was such despair in Biddulph's voice as he 
 uttered the last few words, that a fear for him suddenly 
 darted into Nora's heart. 
 
 " Hush ! you must not speak thus," she said ; and she 
 clasped his hand closer in her own cold, trembling one. 
 " It is a bitter blow to us, but we must help each other to 
 bear it. What shall we do, James?" and she lifted her 
 dark beautiful eyes to his face, full of sweet trust still in 
 him. 
 
 "Could you put off the marriage for a day — say you 
 are ill, anything ? Would not this be best ? And in the 
 
 meanwhile I must try to learn the truth ; I must . 
 
 But why speak of it ?" 
 
 ** I can do this ; and, James, even — even if this be the 
 woman who tricked you into a marriage long ago, still 
 
 
A Sl'PA^GE MESS AG a. 
 
 i8s 
 
 she cannot part us always, you know. This little life, 
 which is so full of trouble, is not the unchanging, blissful 
 one that we have talked of so often— talked of, James, 
 when we have stood together, and looked up' and watched 
 the stars." 
 
 As Nora said this she raised her head, and on her face a 
 certain lofty, noble expression, which was not unusual to 
 it, now took the place of the bitter pain and horror of a 
 few minutes before. She was excessively pale, and her 
 long dark hair was unbound ; but her dark eyes shone 
 with wonderful beauty and sweetness, and her words gave 
 some sort of strength to Biddulph's miserable heart. 
 
 "Would that I could feci thus ! " he said, gazing at her 
 with a strange new feeling almost of reverence stealing 
 over him ; ** but I cannot. I cannot think of another life 
 when this one lies wrecked and blasted ; when to-morrow, 
 tha^^ -» bring my bride, my love, may bring me back 
 
 a tie utterly loathsome and abhorred." 
 
 " Still, for my sake, try to bear this, James ; and let me 
 try to help you. Let us think what we must do. Will 
 you stay here to-night ?" 
 
 " No ; I will go now to the doctor, and call him up, and 
 I must tell him the hideous story, Nora. He will do 
 what is necessary — he is n good fellow, and I can trust 
 him ; and then I must go back to Dunbaan." 
 
 "Oh, not to-night ; not in the storm !" 
 
 " My darling, yes. I left that woman locked in a room 
 there. But," added Biddulph, grimly, " I left her with the 
 brandy-bottle, so no doubt she is content." 
 
 *'0h, my poor James ! " 
 
 " Your poor James, indeed. But I must go now. Nora, 
 will you kiss me before I go ?" 
 
 '•Yes, James." 
 
 "And, my darling, as soon as I knoWt I will see you 
 again ; until then " 
 
 " I shall try to find strength, James. I shall think of 
 you and try to be strong ; and you must try for my sake." 
 
 He took her in his arms and kissed her, and then again 
 went out with his "burden of sorrow" into the dark 
 night. 
 
 t I 
 
IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 V 
 
 / 
 
 A 
 
 O 
 
 
 V. 
 
 W/jr 
 
 1.0 [Si 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 M IIIII2J 
 
 1^ 1^ 
 
 2.2 
 
 uuu 
 
 1.8 
 
 1.4 IIIIII.6 
 
 V] 
 
 <^ 
 
 /] 
 
 ^l 
 
 
 y 
 
 /^ 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 \ 
 
 d^ 
 
 •NJ 
 
 \\ 
 
 % 
 
 V 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 6^ 
 
 
 '^ 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 4- 
 
 ■^ 
 

 
 ^. 
 
 
 Cv 
 
 ^ 
 > 
 
iU 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 A DEFERRED MARRIAGE. 
 
 Though Nora, in .he end, had borne herself so bravely 
 before Biddulph, yet scarcely was he gone when the 
 overwhelming nature of the tidings he had brought her 
 utterly overcame her, and she fell down on her knees and 
 abandoned herself to the bitterest grief. • 
 
 She could not restrain the choking sobs which seemed 
 absolutely to rend her throat, and Palmer, hearing these, 
 came into the room, and hurried up to her young mis- 
 tress. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Stewart, what is it ?" she cried. "What has 
 Mr. Biddulph been and done ? I thought he looked that 
 awful, like a risen corpse, or something ! " 
 
 Nora made no reply. She could not, indeed, have 
 spoken — she was gasping for breath ; and Palmer, seeing 
 how ill she was, immediately began to sob aloud also. 
 
 " Oh dear, oh dear ! " she exclaimed, " whatever shall 
 we do ? And everything ready, the dresses and all so 
 beautiful ! " 
 
 Palmer's cries and Nora's agonizing sobs in a few 
 moments reached the ears of the lady who was occupying 
 the bedroom situated above the dining-room, where they 
 were. This was Lady Barbara Biddulph. She was sitting 
 meditating, as her custom often was, before she retired to 
 rest, with her feet on the fender, dressed in an old- 
 fasnioned white dimity dressing-gown, her gray hair in 
 curl-papers, surmounted by a large white night-cap with 
 a wide double frill. 
 
 She listened, and at once rose to her feet in her quick, 
 brusque way. There was no mistake ; some one was in 
 bitter grief, and Lady Barbara was not the woman to 
 hesitate. She wrapped a black woollen comforter round 
 her throat, opened her bedroom door, and, guided by the 
 sound of the sobs and cries, soon reached the dining-room, 
 and stood for a moment outside, looking at the scene 
 within. 
 
 This is v/hat she saw. The bride of to-morrow was 
 kneeling on the floor before a couch, her white arms flung 
 forward, and her face hidden between them, while her 
 whole form was heaving and convulsed. Beside her stood 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 xS; 
 
 the maid, gasping and sobbing, too ; and as Lady Barbara 
 walked into the room with her firm step, Palmer turned 
 round and emitted a loud shriek. 
 
 " Wh^t on earth is the matter?" asked Lady Bab, in 
 her imperious way. "Girl," she continued, addressing 
 Palmer, and seizing her by the arm and pushing her 
 aside, "need you make a fool of yourself, too ? Hold your 
 tongue this instant, and go out of the room. My dear," 
 she added, laying her hand on Nora's shoulder, " how is it 
 I find you in such a state as this ? " 
 
 Then Nora raised her stained, wet face, and looked at 
 Lady Bab with eyes full of grief. 
 
 " Oh, Lady Barbara ! " she gasped out ; and she turned 
 round and lifted up her arms as though appealingly — " oh, 
 Lady Barbara, what shall I do ? " 
 
 " Get up, and tell me what is the matter, my dear ; that 
 is the most sensible thing to do," answered Lady Bab, 
 almost forcing Nora to rise with her strong bony hands. 
 ** Girl," she went on looking round at Palmer, who still 
 lingered in the room, though her sobs had entirely ceased 
 out of awe of Lady Bab, " have you any sal-volatile in the 
 house ? If you have, go and get it at once, and don't stand 
 staring there. And now, my dear "-—and again she turned 
 to Nora, and put her arm around her quivering frame— 
 " tell me what is the matter. Perhaps I may be able to 
 help you, and you may trust me as if I were your mother ; 
 though I thank Heaven I never had any children to 
 bother me ! Is it anything about that nephew of mine ? 
 Why, I thought you and he seemed ridiculously fond of 
 each other ? " 
 
 ** So we are," answered poor Nora, in a voice broken by 
 sobs ; " I care for him with all my heart. Lady Barbara ; 
 but — but something so dreadful has " 
 
 " Don't talk about it for a moment or two. What is 
 that girl about? Oh, there you are" (Palmer now 
 entered). " Well, are you sure this is the right bottle ? " 
 
 "Yes, my lady." 
 
 " Well, go and get some cold water, then. Now, my 
 dear, j^ou must drink some of this stuff, though I don't 
 approve of people taking it, mind ye ! But I suppose it 
 will quiet your nerves, and then you and I will sit down 
 and have a talk together, and I've no doubt we can put" 
 things all right between us." 
 
 Nora eagerly drank the sal-volatile, and in a few 
 minutes grew more composed ; and Lady Bab, seeing 
 
 141 
 
 ^■m I 
 
 ft." WC.\ ;*'^ I 
 
 ■''v- 
 
 'Wm 
 
t88 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 ihis, suggested that she should go upstairs to her own 
 room. 
 
 " I don't see any good in making things worse," she 
 said ; "and if we stay here we shall be catching colds in 
 our heads, and all sorts of disagreeable things. I will go 
 with you to your room, if you will allow me, for a quarter 
 of an hour or so, and if you like to tell me what is the 
 matter." 
 
 " You are most good, most kind. I am ashamed to have 
 given way so ; but James came lo-night " 
 
 *' Come, now, don't give way again," said Lady Bab, 
 with a kindly gleam in her keen gray eyes, as Nora's 
 voice faltered and broke as she was concluding her 
 sentence. " We had better go at once, and the maid and 
 I will help you upstairs." 
 
 As Lady Bab said this she drew Nora's arm through 
 hers, and desired Palmer to carry up the sal-volatile. But 
 when they reached Nora's bedroom, she coolly ordered 
 Palmer out of the i com. 
 
 "And shut the door behind you, and don't put your ear 
 to the keyhole outside," she added as a parting injunction, 
 to the great indignation of Palmer. 
 
 *• I am not in the habit of putting my ear to the key- 
 hole, my lady," she answered, tossing her head. 
 
 " Oh, are you not ? "Well, don't begin now, then," said 
 Lady Bab ; and Palmer left the room, feeling she had 
 been grossly insulted. 
 
 Yet so weak is human nature that, as the girl walked 
 down the corridor, the temptation entered her heart to 
 turn back again, and try to hear something that might 
 explain Mr. Biddulph's mysterious visit, and her young 
 mistress's uncontrollable emotion. And like many of us, 
 wavering between duty and inclination. Palmer adopted a 
 middle course. She stole back again on tiptoe to Nora's 
 door, and stood there, but did not put her ear to the key- 
 hole, and therefore could hear nothing distinctly. 
 
 In the meanwhile, in agitated whispers, Nora was tak- 
 ing Lady Barbara into her confidence. She was James 
 Biddulph's aunt ; and Nora was almost compelled to tell 
 some one, or how could the marriage be deferred ? She 
 thought the position over for a moment or two, and then 
 decided to tell Lady Barbara ; and as that lady listened to 
 the gruesome story her gray-tinted complexion grew a 
 little pale. 
 
 "It is the twin-sister, I bet a hundred pounds," she said 
 
 "Yet 
 Lady B 
 "But 
 " the idi 
 come bs 
 moment 
 "He! 
 '< Pie? 
 he is go 
 "Iti! 
 over he 
 "For 
 could J a 
 a woma 
 ♦•He 
 "Am 
 for you 
 now ret 
 we mus 
 it's a bJ 
 will, of 
 "He 
 "A 
 Hov/ev 
 case ca 
 "We 
 "Yo 
 I think 
 confide 
 "Ye! 
 Dr. Al 
 "Sei 
 mornii 
 energe 
 ried tc 
 keep t 
 "Ol 
 "W 
 call C 
 "Tl 
 more 
 
 "SI 
 
 "IS 
 
 " ru 
 
 ■i'il<<M4w»4wWM»W>i*»'W»-'« 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 189 
 
 "Yet James seemed afraid," faltered Nora, looking ai 
 Lady Barbara with eager anxious eyes. 
 
 "But surely," answered Lady Bab, rising excitedly, 
 "the idiot could tell! I know if ray old general were to 
 come back dead or alive, I should know him again in a 
 moment." 
 
 " He said he could not be surg" 
 
 " Pleasant for you, I must say. And what do you say 
 he is going to do — dig the poor woman up again ! " 
 
 "It is all too dreadful !" said Nora, putting her hand 
 over her face. 
 
 " For goodness sake, don't begin to cry again I How 
 could J B.mes Biddulph be such a fool as ever to marry such 
 a woman at all ? " 
 
 •' He was only a boy, you know." 
 
 "And a very stupid boy, that's my opinion ! I am sorry 
 for you, my dear ; " and in her impulsive way. Lady Bab 
 now returned to Nora's side and kissed her cheek. "Well, 
 we must ju5t try to make the best of it, I suppose ; but 
 it's a bad business — a very bad business. The wedding 
 will, of course, have to be put off ? " 
 
 " He said for a day." 
 
 " A pretty long day, if the woman's story be true ! 
 Hov/ever, it mayn't be ; and, in the meanwhile, what ex- 
 cuse can we make to defer the marriage ? " 
 
 " We might say I am ill." 
 
 " You are ill enough, poor soul, in body and mind alike, 
 I think. Have you a decent doctor that you can put any 
 confidence in ? " 
 
 "Yes, a very kind man; James has gone there now. 
 Dr. Alexander will know now, for " 
 
 " Send for Dr. Alexander, then, at six o'clock in the 
 morning, and I will see him," interrupted Lady Bab, 
 energetically. " He must say you are too ill to be mar- 
 ried to-morrow, and I will tell the rest of the people, and 
 keep them away from you." 
 
 "Oh, thank you ; you are very kind ! " 
 
 "Who is that intensely disagreeable old woman you 
 call Cousin Margaret ? " 
 
 " That is Mrs. Conway-Hope. She is sure to make me 
 more unhappy." 
 
 "You must not let her into the room." 
 
 "She will force herself in, I am afraid." 
 
 " Not if I am here," said Lady Bab, with grim emphasis. 
 " I'll tell you what I'll do, my dear ; I'll sleep in that big 
 
 ij 
 
 ■'! 
 
 
 # :i: 
 
 » I 
 
 -mmmat^isKfS'' 
 
190 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 armchair of yours there, and at six o'clock in the morning 
 I'll call some of your people up, and send for the doctor 
 — if we can only make that pert little maid hold her 
 tongue." 
 
 Palmer, outside, had the pleasure of hearing the last re- 
 mark, as Lady Bab spoke in very clear and decided tones. 
 
 " I do not think Palmer will say anything ; but Lady 
 Barbara, I cannot let you sit up all night — indeed you 
 must not." 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense. Now ring for your maid to take 
 all that rubbish off the bed, and then you get into it and 
 go to sleep ; come, now, be a good child, and do as you're 
 told." 
 
 Again that kindly gleam stole into Lady Barbara's 
 eyes ; for the " rubbish," as she called it, she saw very 
 well was some of Nora's wedding clothes, which Palmer had 
 been engaged in packing when James Biddulph had 
 arrived on his miserable errand. And in the open ward- 
 robe hung the white shining wedding-gown and the long 
 veil. It was pitiable ; and Lady Barbara, in spite of her 
 sharp tongue and plain speech, had a kind heart, and she 
 felt intensely sorry for the poor girl, whose happiness and 
 bright hopes had been so rudely interrupted. 
 
 But she did not say this. She rang for Palmer, who ap- 
 peared after a discreet interval, and she insisted upon 
 Nora going to bed, and on Palmer putting the marriage 
 finery out of sight. 
 
 "And now, young woman," she said, addressing Palmer, 
 in her brusque way, " you can go to bed, and I will stay 
 beside Miss Stewart, and ring for you at six o'clock in the 
 morning, and you must call up one of the men-servants, 
 and send him for Dr. Alexander, as Miss Stewart is not 
 well. And you have to hold your tongue — do you hear? 
 — about what has occurred to-night. My nephew, Mr. 
 Biddulph, has had some bad news, and hearing it has up- 
 set Miss Stewart, the marriage cannot take place to-mor- 
 row. But you have not to say a word about it." 
 
 " Very well, my lady." 
 
 " I dare say you have a kind mistress ? " said Lady Bab, 
 inquiringly. 
 
 ** Yes, indeed I have," answered Palmer, sincerely. 
 
 " Then be kind to her, and don't gossip about all this, 
 and you'll be no loser by it. And now go to bed." 
 
 But Palmer ofiEered to sit up, and seemed so genuinely 
 anxious about Noi a, that Lady Barbara began to believe 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 191 
 
 lorning 
 
 doctor 
 
 |oid her 
 
 last re- 
 fd tones, 
 
 It Lady 
 Jed you 
 
 to take 
 it and 
 Is you're 
 
 Jarbara's 
 iw very 
 merhad 
 ph had 
 1 ward- 
 he long 
 ; of her 
 and she 
 ess and 
 
 who ap- 
 d upon 
 larriage 
 
 ?*almer, 
 ill stay 
 
 in the 
 rvants, 
 
 is not 
 I hear? 
 Wy Mr. 
 ms up- 
 o-mor- 
 
 7 Bab, 
 
 i this, 
 
 linely 
 slieve 
 
 she was really attached to her young mistress, which in- 
 deed she was. 
 
 " It is not in mortal heart," she told her friend Alfred 
 subsequently, when relating the events of this momentous 
 night, " to feel no curiosity when such things are going on 
 about one, and I could not sleep a wink for thinking what 
 the secret could be. But that old lady need not accuse 
 me of putting my ear to the keyhole, for all that.'* 
 
 And if Palmer could not sleep, Nora also could find no 
 rest. She lay there, white, still, and prostrate, her heart 
 torn by the most cruel doubts and fears. But presently 
 from Lady Barbara's arm-chair proceeded distinct and 
 audible evidence that her ladyship, at least, was able to 
 compose herself to slumber. In fact. Lady Bab snored 
 on steadily all night ; and yet, as the hand of the clock 
 pointed to six, she awoke, rubbed her eyes, and then rose 
 erect and energetic as ever, and rang for Palmer. 
 
 " I can do that," she told Nora ; " I fix the hour I have 
 to rise, and I always wake then ; I learn't to do it in Gen- 
 eral Biddulph's time, who was in a fine temper if he did 
 not get his medicine to the minute, poor man." 
 
 When Palmer appeared, Alfred was called up and sent 
 for Dr. Alexander. Then Lady Bab retired to her own 
 room, to slightly change her costume to receive the 
 doctor. 
 
 " Not that it matters much," she remarked ; "but I sup- 
 pose I must make myself presentable." 
 
 f! 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A DOCTOR S NIGHT, 
 
 Lady Bab had not completed the change of dress that 
 she deemed necessary for her interview with Dr. Alexander, 
 when she was informed by Palmer that he had already 
 arrived, and was waiting in the dining room to see her. 
 
 In truth, the poor doctor had spent a most miserable 
 night, for he had been sleeping the sound sleep of an 
 honest, over-worked man, after his accustomed two glasses 
 of whiskey toddy, when he was roused by the loud ringing 
 of the surgery-bell. The man was but human, and with a 
 sigh he turned upon his pillow, and wished with all his 
 
 8 . i * « 
 
 ii' 
 
ig» 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 heart that his patient — as he supposed — had deferred his 
 illness, or his visit, to a more convenient season. 
 
 However, there was no help for it, and with something 
 between a groan and a yawn he arose, and donned his old 
 plaid dressing-gown and his old worn slippers, and, shiver- 
 ing and unhappy, he descended the narrow staircase of his 
 house, and, candle in hand, proceeded to unbar his door. 
 
 As he accomplished this, a gust of wind blew out his 
 candle, and he found himself in the dark. But the next 
 moment Biddulph spoke to him, and the doctor recognized 
 his voice. 
 
 " Why mon," he said, in his broadest Scotch, " I took ye 
 for a bogie. Come in, come in. What the de'il has set ye 
 out on a night like this ? " 
 
 " No good, you may be sure," answered Biddulph, as the 
 doctor struck a match to relight his candle. " I have com*^ 
 to you to-night in such a strait as I think no man was 
 ever in before." 
 
 The doctor by this time had succeeded in faintly illumi- 
 nating the darkness, and as the light of his thin candle fell 
 on Biddulph's pale, haggard face, he gave a sudden ex- 
 clamation. 
 
 " What's happened ? " he said. " Nothing wrang wi* Miss 
 Nora Stewart, surely ? " 
 
 " No," replied Biddulph, in a low, gloomy tone, as he 
 followed the doctor into the parlor, where an expiring 
 "re cast but cold comfort around ; "yet it falls upon her 
 — it is hardest upon her." 
 
 Then, in a lone tone of intense pain and suppressed 
 emotion, he told the dreadful story, and the doctor listened 
 in shocked astonishment. 
 
 " Fve known twins as like as twa peas," he said, as Bid- 
 dulph concluded ; " but had the woman ye wed no mark 
 ye could identify her by ? Ever so small a thing would 
 do ; a mole, anything. 
 
 "She had a mole on her cheek," answered Biddulph, as 
 if the memory were hateful to him ; "but this woman at 
 Dunbaan — Natalie, or her sister, which ever it be — said 
 they both had thi? ; but, I remember now, Natalie had two 
 small brown moles on her right arm." 
 
 "They were not both likely to ha' these. Weel, Mr. 
 Biddulph, it's a solemn thing to disturb the dead, but I see 
 na help for it. And does Miss Leonora Stewart know ? " 
 
 A look of inexpressible pain passed over Biddulph's 
 face. 
 
 his vo 
 chairs 
 
 "N 
 
 MiiUuMmlllllmmmw*r- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 "Yes/* he said ; *' and she has acted— as- 
 
 -" But here 
 
 his voice broke, and he sank down on one of the doctor's 
 chairs, and put his hand over his face. 
 
 " Nay, mon, ye mustn't break down. Ten to one it's the 
 twin-sister after a'. But ha' some whiskey, Mr. Biddulph, 
 and I'll make up the fire ; and ye must chcir up a bit, and 
 we'll hope for the best." 
 
 But all the doctor's kindness could not rouse Biddulph 
 from his overwhelming misery. 
 
 *♦ I see her face still !" he cried, starting up. "And she 
 had the same way of lifting her hand, the same expression 
 in her eyes, as Natalie** 
 
 " Still, it may be the other one. But about her wedding- 
 ring ? Did ye not gi' her some token when " 
 
 " In my mad folly ? " said Biddulph, bitterly, as the doctor 
 paused. "Yes, I gave her a wedding-ring and a guard- 
 ring ; and in the inner circle of the guard-ring, I recollect 
 now, her name was engraved." 
 
 " I took notice that yon poor soul lying in the kirkyard 
 had a marriage-ring on, and a guard-ring, when we laid 
 her there. Ye'U know her by this, Mr. Biddulph ; but yer 
 wedding will ha' to be put off a wee' ? " 
 
 "Yes," answered Biddulph, gloomily; and then, forcing 
 himself to speak, he made the necessary arrangements with 
 the doctor for the grave in Balla kirkyard to be opened ; 
 and, having done this, announced his intention to cross 
 the loch and return to Dunbaan. 
 
 In vain the doctor pressed him to stay. Even his kindly, 
 homely words jarred on Biddulph's ears, and he felt he 
 would rather be alone. The night had somewhat improved, 
 and after a silent pressure of the doctor's hand, he once 
 more went out into the darkness,, and feeling that the vio- 
 lent exertion and the danger were a sort of relief, he again 
 crossed the stormy water, and arrived without accident at 
 the small pier at Dunbaan, where he found the keeper 
 and his son anxiously awaiting his arrival in the boat- 
 house. 
 
 With brief thanks and without any explanation, he 
 passed them and walked to the house, letting himself in 
 with his pass-key, and speaking no word to old Donald, 
 who was hovering about in the hall. Then he unlocked 
 the library door, and found the woman he had left there 
 lying on a coiich fast asleep, and the brandy-bottle on the 
 table, more than half emptied. 
 
 "V She was lying so that he could see her face very dis- 
 13 . 
 
 \ , 
 
«^ 
 
 A ^TRAISTGE MESSAGE, 
 
 %^ 
 
 tinctly, and v/ith a look of intense aversion he went up to 
 her, and stood intently examining her features. They 
 seemed but too familiar. Her attitude, also, was so like 
 the woman he had believed dead that hope seemed to 
 die in his heart, as he stood there watching the heavy 
 sleeper. 
 
 Presently she stirred, threw back her left hand, and he 
 saw she had no wedding-ring on, nor guard-ring. She had, 
 indeed, no rings on ; and Biddulph now noticed that her 
 dress was shabby and travel-stained. 
 
 While he was still standing near her, she awoke with a 
 start, sat up and rubbed her eyes, and seemed scarcely to 
 know where she was. Then memory suddenly came back 
 to her. 
 
 " Is that you, James ? " she said. " So you have got 
 back ? I was so tired I fell asleep." 
 
 "Yes," he answered, still looking at her. 
 
 " Well, I hope you have changed your mind ; that you'll 
 give me the money and let me ^o quietly away." 
 
 ** I have not changed my mind." 
 
 " But you won't surely " 
 
 " What have you done with your wedding-ring and your 
 guard-ring ? " 
 
 A dusky blush came through the woman's dark skin as 
 she looked down on her uncovered hand. 
 
 " If you must know the truth," she said, " I lent them to 
 poor Josephine when she came here ; I suppose they will 
 be " 
 
 " We shall see to-morrow," answered Biddulph ; and 
 without another word he left her, going to his own room 
 and locking the door behind him, and wishing, as he had 
 once done before, that he had never been born. 
 
 It seemed to the poor doctor that he had scarcely got in- 
 to bed again after Biddulph had left him., though he had 
 really been there an hour or two, when again he was roused 
 from his slumber by the loud ringing of the surgery-bell. 
 
 Once more the unhappy man descended in the cold, and 
 this time he found it was a message from Rossmore, to say 
 that Miss Stewart had been taken suddenly ill, and that he 
 must go at once. 
 
 " Na wonder, puir lassie ! " he thought, as he listened to 
 Alfred's words. "I'll go directly, my lad," he said ; and 
 he did this, and, on a black, dark winter morning, shortly 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 ifiS 
 
 found himself in the dining room at Rossmore, waiting 
 until Nora was ready to see him. 
 
 The door prescatly opened, and Lady Barbara Biddulph 
 entered, erect and tall, with a black woollen shawl wrapped 
 round her shoulders, and some sort of black gown on ; but 
 her gray hair was still in curl papers, though she hnd taken 
 off her night cap out of compliment to the doctor, who 
 naturally looked at her with some surprise. 
 
 "Are you Dr. Alexander ?" she asked, as she approached 
 the gaunt Scotchman. 
 
 " I am, ma'am," he answered, for he did not in the least 
 know who she was. 
 
 She looked at him a moment with her keen gray eyes, 
 and then decided he was a man to be trusted. 
 
 " Have you seen my nephe\' James Biddulph to-night ?" 
 she next inquired. " I am Lady Barbara Biddulph, and 
 havo come down to this place to be present at his marriage, 
 if it takes place ; " and again she regarded him scrutiniz- 
 ingly. 
 
 " It's a vera bad business," answered the doctor, casting 
 down his small eyes. 
 
 " He has made a nice fool of himself, it seems," said 
 Lady Bab, grimly. "I am sorry for the girl — for Miss 
 Stewart, and I have sent for you to give some color to the 
 excuse we are obliged to make to put off the wedding. I 
 want you to say Miss Stewart is too ill to be married to- 
 morrow." 
 
 "She'll na be over weel anyhow, puir lassie I Ay, Lady 
 Barbara Biddulph, I've seen yer nephew, Mr. Biddulph, in 
 the sma' hours, and he's like a man distraught. It's a fear- 
 some business fra' first to last ; but ye know the story?" 
 
 ** That poor girl upstairs has told me. I heard some one 
 crying bitterly, and came downstairs to see what was the 
 matter, and found Miss Nora Stewart and her little goose 
 of a maid both in hysterics, the mistress really and the 
 maid pretending. But I soon stopped her.'' 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph had left then ? " 
 
 " Of course he had, or I think I should have given him 
 a good shaking. Did you ever hear of a man making such 
 a fool of himself ? It was known in the family he had some 
 low connection or other, though he never told his father he 
 had married this woman — and a great idiot he was to do it." 
 
 , " It's a sare pity." 
 
 " Pity ! I really can't pity himj I pity the girl. But 
 after he saw this woman die, and went to her funeral, now 
 
 M 
 
 ■••' •) 
 
 
t^ 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 1, 
 
 •' 
 
 1: 
 
 • i 
 
 
 % ' 
 
 
 to say she has reappeared ag;ain, really is -too disgustin^rf 
 What do you think, doctor? Are two people ever so alike 
 that you cannot tell the diflference between them ?" 
 
 " I vc seen twin bairns that the mother couldna tell any 
 difference betwixt them, and I've seen grown up folks sa 
 like that when they were apart ye couldna tell which it 
 was ; but wher put face to face, there's mostly some subtle 
 distinction." 
 
 " And he's going to have the grave opened ? " 
 
 "Ay." 
 
 "A nice wedding-day, truly! And you're to be present 
 I suppose ? " 
 
 " My leedy, don't be hard on Mr. Biddulph, for he's in 
 a sare strait." 
 
 "Brought on by his own folly, and I've no patience 
 with him. But talking about it won't mend the matter. 
 The facts are, James Biddulph, I suppose, believed his 
 wife was dead, and now a woman so like her has cast up 
 that it must either be herself or the twin-sister she pre- 
 tends died when she was supposed to die." 
 
 "These are the facts, my leedy.*' 
 
 " The marriage, therefore, has not to take place to-mor- 
 row, and I do not want all the people in the house to know 
 and gossip about this horrid story. You must see Miss 
 Nora Stewart and say she is too ill to be married ; and too 
 ill, also, to see visitors in her room." 
 
 " It will be unco' hard to keep Mrs. Conway-Hope out." 
 
 " She's a detestable person ; I noticed her. But if you 
 give me authority to prevent her, I'll stop her." 
 
 A grim smile stole over the doctor's large face. 
 
 " She's unco* bad to stop," he said. 
 
 "And so am I!" answered Lady Bab, with energy. 
 " But come now and see the poor girl upstairs ; her face 
 looks so changed since last night, I should scarcely hav: 
 known her." 
 
 " Between a light heart and a heavy one there's a deal 
 o' difference," said the doctor, with a sigh ; and then he 
 followed Lady Barbara to Nora's room, and could iind no 
 words when he took her cold, trembling hand in his big 
 one, so deeply was he moved by the expression of the poor 
 girl's face. 
 
 " Well, my dear, here's your doctor," said Lady Bab, in 
 her brusque way ; and though I am not fond of the pro- 
 fession as a rule, and never go near them when I can help 
 it^ I think w€ csui trust him," 
 
 Th< 
 
 scene 
 Th 
 dulpl 
 the 
 had 
 centr 
 
 and 2 
 thel 
 It 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 199 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE TWIN-SISTERS. 
 
 The same day, about twelve o'clock, a weird and ghastly 
 scene took place in the outer porch of the kirk at Balla. 
 
 There were assembled there five persons, James Bid- 
 dulph, Dr. Alexander, the Rev. Andrew Macdonald, and 
 the woman whose unlooked-for appearance at Dunbaan 
 had caused all this misery. And lying on the flags, in the 
 centre of the little group, was a nowly disinterred coffin, 
 and a man was kneeling beside it, engaged in unscrewing 
 the lid. 
 
 It was a gray and murky day, and James Biddulph, lean- 
 ing with folded arms against the time-stained walls of the 
 porch, spoke to none, and scarcely raised his ey^s. The 
 expression of his face was all gloom, and his pallor was 
 very great. Opposite to hin? stood the woman, crying, 
 and with her head turned away from the coffin as if the 
 sight were more than she could bear ; and near her was 
 the doctor, grave and solemn, for it seemed to him a terri- 
 ble thing, this disturbance of the dead. 
 
 There was no noise but the sound of the screw-driver 
 and the woman's suppressed sobs. The Rev. Andrew 
 Macdonald's usually rosy face was pale too, for he was a 
 timid, easy-going man, and liked nothing out of the com- 
 mon to occur. He looked uncomfortable and disturbed, 
 and gave a visible start when the man kneeling on the 
 flags exclaimed : 
 
 "That's the last one out! Shall I lift the lid now, 
 gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Biddulph, in a changed, hoarse voice ; and 
 he made a step forward. 
 
 Then the man raised the lid, and Biddulph and the doc- 
 tor went near, and stood for a moment or two looking 
 silently down at the face of the dead. Suddenly Biddulph 
 staggered and fell back ; but the doctor, more used to the 
 evidences of our frail humanity, knelt down by the coffin 
 and took hold of the dead woman's hand, on which was « 
 gold wedding-ring and keeper. 
 
 Her face was but little changed. The doctor gazed at 
 her taroestly, and then turned round and looktd at the 
 
 -t %. 
 
 ^^^ssS<iefm i*m v, ii! ieam 
 
I9S 
 
 A STRANGE AfESSAGE. 
 
 it-'A 
 
 woman, who was standing behind, shrinking a little back, 
 curious, yet afraid. 
 
 "Step forward, if ye please," said the doctor, address- 
 ing her ; and the living woman advanced a step or two, 
 and looked with half-averted eyes at the face of her dead 
 twin-sister. 
 
 " Oh, this is too horrible ! " she cried the next moment, 
 turning away her head. " James Biddulph, I can't stand 
 this. Give me some money, and let me go." 
 
 "Not until I know the truth," said Biddulph, sternly; 
 and again he advanced and grasped the living woman's 
 v/rist, and pulled her back close to the coffin, eagerly scan- 
 ning her face as he did so, and then looking down again at 
 the dead. 
 
 The features were the same, the dark hair the same, 
 even the shape of the hands. Each had a brown mole on 
 the left cheek, and two small moles on the right arm. 
 The likeness was so extraordinary, so wonderful, that it 
 seemed to the horror-stricken gazers as if it were the 
 same woman at once alive and dead ; and with an excla- 
 mation of intense loathing, almost dread, Biddulph again 
 fell back, while the doctor, too, uttered a bewildered cry. 
 
 " Eh, this is just marvellous ; it's uncanny — nothing 
 short of it," he said. 
 
 " Madam," said the Rev. Andrew Macdonald, plucking 
 up his courage, ** in this solemn hour, face to face with 
 your dead sister, you will surely speak the truth. Are 
 you Mr. Biddulph's v/ife or no ?" 
 
 " I am,'* answered the woman, who was greatly over- 
 come ; **f/tat" — and she pointed with her trembling hand 
 — "is my twin-sister, poor Josephine. I don't defend 
 what we did ; we did it for money. Josephine did it for 
 money, and it cost her her life. But all the same, I am 
 speaking the truth. I was married to James Biddulph 
 twelve years ago." 
 
 " And was your sister married also ? " asked the Rev. 
 Andrew. 
 
 " She said so ; I don't know ; " and she hesitated. 
 
 **She has a marriage-ring on, puir soul," said the 
 doctor, touching the chill, encoffined hand. 
 
 " That is my marriage-ring, and my keeper," said the 
 woman, more firmly, " I lent it to Josephine when we 
 meant to deceive James Biddulph. *' If you will take it 
 off, sir," she continued, addressing the doctor, "you will 
 see, in the inner circle of the guard-ring, my name is 
 
 x^ 
 
a little back, 
 
 ^tor, address- 
 
 step or two, 
 
 ^ of her dead 
 
 kxt moment, 
 I can't stand 
 
 flph, sternly; 
 ing woman's 
 Jagerly scan- 
 own again at 
 
 ir the same, 
 >wn mole on 
 ' right arm. 
 Jrful, that it 
 It were the 
 ith an excla- 
 dulph again 
 ^ildered cry. 
 ny— nothing 
 
 'd, plucking 
 o face with 
 truth. Are 
 
 eatly over- 
 'bllng hand 
 n't defend 
 5 did it for 
 same, I am 
 Biddulph 
 
 d the Rev. 
 
 ed. 
 said the 
 
 ' said the 
 when we 
 II take it 
 'you will 
 name is 
 
 A STRAN-GE MESSAGE. 
 
 190 
 
 engraved. You gave it to me," she added, looking at 
 Biddulph. 
 
 The doctor gently drew the rings off the dead woman's 
 hand, and there true enough, in the inner circle of the 
 guard-ring, was engraved the word '^Natalie" and a date 
 twelve years ago. 
 
 " If I tell you," said the woman, now looking at Bid- 
 dulph, **the shop you bought it at, and what you said 
 when you put it on my hand, will you believe me ? " 
 
 " How can I tell ? " he answered, with intense scorn. 
 " To such as you the most sacred things in life are but a 
 jest ! " 
 
 She crossed over and whispered a few words in his ear, 
 and as she did so, a dark red flush oame on his pale face. 
 
 "You are 2l devil" he muttered, in a low tone, starting 
 back ; and then an overwhelming rage seemed to seize 
 him. 
 
 " Yes," he cried, in a loud voice, lifting his arm, his eyes 
 full of hatred and despair, "I believe you. You are 
 Natalie Beranger, the woman who tricked and deceived 
 me into a marriage twelve years ago, and have now tricked 
 and deceived me again. But you won't gain anything 
 this time for wrecking my life. You did this for money, 
 and you won't get any. I'll give you but one thing — my 
 bitter, bitter curse ! " 
 
 " My dear sir, consider this sacred edifice," said the 
 Rev. Andrew, who was frightened at Biddulph's violence. 
 
 " You must give me some money ; I have nothing to 
 live on," sobbed the woman. 
 
 "Come away, my dear fellow," said the doctor, going 
 up to Biddulph, and putting his arm through his. " If ye 
 are satisfied this is the lady ye wed twelve years ago, there 
 is nothing more to be said, and the minister here will see 
 that yon puir soul " — and he pointed to the dead woman — 
 " is put back to her long rest." 
 
 But Biddulph, excited beyond control, cursed the 
 woman again as she stood there cowering before him, and 
 was with difficulty half fragged by the doctor into the 
 vestry. 
 
 " Bide here a wee, mon," said the doctor, in his kindly 
 way, " and then gan' on to my house till ye come round a 
 bit. Ay, it's enough to break a mon's heart ; and to think 
 o' the bonny lassie, too, who loves ye sa weel ! But yc 
 may be free some day; the leedy in there"— and he 
 nodded in the direction of the porch—" looks as if she 
 

 ftOO 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 liked a drop too much, and the bottle, though I say it who 
 perhaps shouldn't, is not conducive to longevity." 
 
 It is as well not to record here Biddulph's answer. His 
 darkest mood was on the man, and hatred and disgust 
 wrrc in his heart. It was a moment when the Herce 
 hidden passions of humanity break loose, and the un* 
 chained tong; c pours forth words that are ever best un- 
 said. The doctor listen^^d, grave and sympathetic, until 
 the storm spent itself, and then again proposed that 
 Biddulph should go to his house. 
 
 " And — Nora ? " asked Biddulph, in a broken, faltering 
 voice. 
 
 " Weel, I've been thinking I might drop in at Rossmore, 
 and ha' a private word wi' the old leedy, yer aunt. Yc'll 
 see Miss Stewart by and by yersel', but she!s best wi' the 
 woman-folk to-day, I'm thinking." 
 
 *'I will see her," said Biddulph, in a low tone of 
 passionate emotion, ** once more, and then I will go away 
 never to return ; I have not strength for more." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 WAITING FOR THE NF^VS. 
 
 Let us now go back a few hours, and see how things 
 were going on at Rossmore, where the bridal guests were 
 assembled, and were informed by Lady Barbara Biddulph 
 at breakfast-time that there was to be no marriage that 
 day. 
 
 The first person she told this to was Mrs. Conway-Hope. 
 This lady found Lady Barbara standing before the dining- 
 room fire, with her back to it, dressed in a dark gray 
 homespun, and altogether with no appearance of wedding 
 finery nor pleased excitement. 
 
 The wedding had been fixed to take place early, and 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope had already donned a handsome 
 brocaded silk gown, which had been Nora's marriage gift 
 to her father's cousin. 
 
 She entered the room, smiling and self-satisfied, for she 
 thought the new gown became her, aad had wrested a 
 promise from Nora that for the present at least she might 
 remain on at Ro<:smore. 
 ; " Hqw arc you, Lady Barbara ? " she said, advancing to- 
 
 i.miiw 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE* 
 
 201 
 
 ' things 
 ts were 
 ddulph 
 l^ that 
 
 -Hope, 
 iining- 
 c gray 
 adding 
 
 y, and 
 isome 
 :e gift 
 
 »r she 
 ted a 
 night 
 
 ig to- 
 
 ward the grim figure standing on the hearthrug. " Well, 
 I am afraid we have not got a very fine day for our 
 wedding." 
 
 " There will be no wedding to-day," replied Lady Bar- 
 bara, brusquely. 
 
 " No wedding ! " repeated Mrs. Conway-Hope, in t^e 
 utn* :st astonishment. " You are joking, I suppose. Lady 
 Barbara." 
 
 " I rarely joke ; certainly not on such a subject as this. 
 The bride is seriously ill." 
 
 " Nora ? Poor child ! I must go to her at once ; " and 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope turned to leave the room. 
 
 "No, Mrs. Conway-Hope, you must «<?/," said the 
 determined voice of Lady Bab. " I have strict orders from 
 the doctor that no one is to be allowed to go into her ro^m 
 but myself." 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope paused, for Lady Bab's manner was 
 very authoritative ; but, after a moment's hesitation, she 
 drew herself up and prepared to defy the new-comer. 
 
 " I shall insist upon seeing my cousin, Miss Nora Stewart, 
 at once," she said. 
 
 " It will do no good, your insisting ; I may as well tell 
 you plainly I will not allow it." 
 
 " And who gave you this authority in this house, may I 
 ask?" inquired I rs. Conway-Hope, with suppressed in- 
 dignation. 
 
 ** Dr. Alexander and Miss Nora Stewart herself. I was 
 particularly told to keep>'^« out," added Lady Bab, with 
 relish. 
 
 ** Then there is a mystery in all this ! You are conceal- 
 ing something, Lady Barbara Biddulph ? " 
 
 *< She is not to be disturbed. She took ill during the 
 night, and we had to call up Dr. Alexander, and he 
 declares it is impossible she can be married to-day, and I 
 am deputed to tell the wedding guests that the naarriage 
 is deferred. 
 
 " And /was not informed of all this—/, her nearest re- 
 lation and friend ? " 
 
 "Near relations are not always near friends," replied 
 Lady Bab, with biting satire. 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope opened her lips to make some cut- 
 ting retort, when the room-door opened, and the two Lees 
 and Lord Giendoyne entered together. 
 
 The p-irls were not yet dressed for the wedding, but wore 
 pretty pale tinted plush tea-gowns. They came into ^h« 
 
 <:, 
 
SOJ 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 t 
 
 room, smiling and coquetting with the languid Glendoyne, 
 who also seemed a little more excited that he usually did. 
 
 " Good-morning, Lady Barbara," said Maud Lee, who 
 was the most talkative of the two sisters ; " so our bride 
 is not down yet ? " 
 
 " She is not coming down," answered Lady Barbara. 
 
 " Miss Lee, you will be surprised — more than surprised 
 — at least, I have been so," said Mrs. Conway-Hope, " to 
 hear that Lady Barbara Biddulph has announced to me 
 that Nora Stewart, my near relation, is too ill to be mar- 
 ried to-day, though / have heard nothing of this illness 
 before. It is inconceivable to me, I admit — absolutely in- 
 conceivable." 
 
 "Not to be married to-day?" repeated Maud Lee, in 
 utter astonishment. 
 
 " Miss Nora Stewart," said Lady Barbara, in that sharp 
 incisive way of hers, ** took seriously ill during the night, 
 and we had to call in the doctor, and he declares it is 
 utterly impossible that she can be married to-day ; and I 
 have his orders, also, to allow no one to go into her room 
 but her maid and myself ;" and Lady Barbara gave a defiant 
 glance with her keen gray eyes at Mrs. Conway-Hope. 
 
 " Oh, poor thing ! I am so sorry," said Maud Lee. 
 
 " Rather rough on Mr. Biddulph," remarked Glendoyne. 
 
 "Extraordinary!" hissed Mrs. Conway-Hope. 
 
 " A fact, at any rate," said Lady Barbara, seating herself 
 at the breakfast-table, which was spread in the Scottish 
 lavish manner. " Now, young people, sit down and let us 
 have breakfast, and then you must try to amuse yourselves 
 as best you can." 
 
 "Very good advice," answered Glendoyne, taking ad- 
 vantage of it. " Miss Lee, may I help you to some of this 
 kippered salmon ? " 
 
 Glendoyne, who was a man of the world, and had con- 
 siderable tact, saw very well there was something behind 
 all this, but he did not show it. He talked in his easy 
 languid way to Lady Barbara and Maud Lee, though, 
 when he spoke to Mrs. Conway-Hope, she only assented 
 with a groan. 
 
 " I had a presentiment," she presently said, in hoUOw 
 tones, over her teacup. 
 
 " I hope it was a pleasant one ? " asked Lady Bab, sar- 
 castically. 
 
 "No, Lady Barbara, it was m?/," replied Mrs. Conway- 
 Hope, with bittc* emphasis. 
 
 »> 
 
 say 
 
 "S 
 supp 
 case, 
 doyr 
 
 H 
 
 oiLMai4MalaiiiiMM*«M.^ 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 ioi 
 
 <* That's a pity, or we might have asked you to amuse 
 us with it. This is the land of presentiments and omens, 
 is it not, Lord Glendoyne ? " said Lady Bab. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, with a smile ; " all families of dis- 
 tinction have, or pretend to have, an intimate acquaint- 
 ance with something uncanny. Either it is the spirit of 
 some slain enemy of the house, or of some hapless maiden 
 who had succumbed too readily to a dead ancestor's at- 
 tractions. In our case, the forlorn maiden does the busi- 
 ness, I believe, and is supposed to appear, wringing her 
 hands, etc., before any family misfortune occurs." 
 
 " And have you ever seen her ? " asked Maud Lee, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Truthfully, I cannot say that I have ; and yet I have 
 had no end of misfortunes. I looked for her one night in 
 the brilliant moonlight at Lahore — the night on which I 
 signed away the old acres — but she did not appear." 
 
 " Oh, I wish she had !" cried Maud Lee. 
 
 "Well, I'm very glad she didn't," said Glendoyne. 
 " Perhaps some day she'll remember the man from Glas- 
 gow, Mr. Fraser, who bought Inismore, and I shall not 
 grudge her that luxury." 
 
 "He's awfully rich, isn't he?" asked Maud Lee, with 
 interest. 
 
 "Awfully," replied Glendoyne, with great gravity. 
 
 "Now I shall leave you young ladies to amuse Lord 
 Glendoyne," said Lady Bab, rising, for she had finished 
 her breakfast. 
 
 " And do you mean to say you refuse to allow me to see 
 my cousin Nora, Lady Barbara 1 I simply ask you that,'' 
 now inquired Mrs. Conway-Hope, in a tone of intense ex- 
 asperation, rising also. 
 
 " Yes, I simply refuse ; " and then, erect and energetic as 
 usual. Lady Bab quitted the room, and Mrs. Conway-Hope 
 lifted her hands in astonishment as the door closed behind 
 her. 
 
 " Well I must say I never saw such a person before ! " 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 " Must have kept the old general well in hand, I should 
 say," suggested Glendoyne. 
 
 "She's hugely amusing, /think," said Maud Lee. "I 
 suppose she won't let me see poor Nora either. In that 
 case, what do you say to a game of billiards, Lord Glen- 
 doyne ? There's a good table." 
 
 He assented ; and presently the billiard-room rang with 
 
 m 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 miy>*-«» W. ■ M W lWll ' ^ W t'*^ttrf¥fe^3I^>W»*t'|^^ 
 
' 1 
 
 i 
 
 fl 
 
 i ; 
 ■ J 
 
 ■■_! 
 
 ao4 
 
 /f STRANCfE MESSAGE, 
 
 Maud's shrill laughter, in spite of poor Nora's Supposed 
 illness. 
 
 " D'ye know, it's a very awkward thing, this marriage 
 being put off," by and by said Glendoyne, standing con- 
 templatively, cue in hand. 
 
 "Yes, isn't it tiresome !" answered Maud. " I wish some 
 one else would get married instead of poor Nora, if she is 
 too ill. What do you say, Lord Glendoyne?" and she 
 smiled coquettishly. 
 
 " Don't in the least object," he answered. 
 
 " Will you be the victim, then ?" 
 
 " Certainly I shall not ; not at all in my way." 
 But while Maud Lee was chattering nonsense to Glen- 
 doyne, upstairs Nora was enduring to the bitter end one 
 of the cruellest feelings that wring the human heart. It 
 seemed almost too dreadful to bear, to wait hour after 
 hour before she knew the truth. It was the doubt, the un- 
 certainty, that seemed killing her. Her face was pallid, 
 almost gray-tinted, with deep violet rims round her large 
 dark eyes; and the expression of her eyes was so painful, 
 so strained, that Lady Barbara turned her own keen ones 
 away, not caring to look on such misery. 
 
 Lady Barbara herself kept walking up and down the 
 room with restless impatience, occasionally looking at her 
 large old-fashioned gold watch. " Oh, would the time 
 never pass ! " thought the poor girl, wringing her hands, 
 though she spoke no word. " I wish the idiots would be 
 quick," again and again Lady Bab inwardly reflected. 
 
 Then tliey heard the house-door bell ring, and with 
 strained ears listened, expecting some news at last. But 
 it was only Jock Fraser and Minnie, arriving as guects at 
 the marriage which was not to be. But the unstaying 
 hand of time went on, and just about one o'clock there 
 came a rap at the locked bedroom door. 
 
 "Who is there ?" asked Lady Bab, sharply. 
 
 "Only the doctor," replied Dr. Alexander's voice ; and 
 Lady Bab hastily unfastened the door, and there, visibly 
 agitated, stood the tall, gaunt Scotchman, and they saw by 
 his face he had nothing good to tell. 
 
 "Well," said Lady Bab, with a little break in her usually 
 clear voice, " what news do you bring us ?" 
 
 He shook hip head, his pitying eyes fixed the while on 
 Nora's agonized face. 
 
 " Do speak, man ! " cried Lady Bab, in uncontrqllable 
 impatieacQ, " What is your news ? '* 
 
 ■4iubi 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 205 
 
 "Na gude," he answered ; and as the words passed from 
 his lips, Nora fell forward on her knees, with a bitter, bit- 
 ter cry. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 
 I 
 
 THE doctor's love-token. 
 
 Both the doctor and Lady Bab ran at once toward 
 Nora, and lifted her up in their arms. 
 
 " My depr girl ! " said Lady Bab. 
 
 " Don't break down, for his sake, my bonnie lassie," half 
 whispered the doctor, with infinite compassion and tender- 
 ness. 
 
 Nora looked from one to the other with such a piteous 
 expression in her dark eyes, that an unwonted moisture 
 and softness stole into Lady Bab's keen gray orbs. 
 
 "My dear," she began, a little tremulously, smoothing 
 back Nora's hair from her burning brow, " if I were to tell 
 you he is not worth it, I suppose you would not believe 
 me, so it's no good my doing so. But all the same I think 
 it ! James Biddulph ought to be ashamed of himself, if he 
 isn t. 
 
 " He is just broken dov n wi' grief, my leedy," said the 
 doctor, "and he's na to blame." 
 
 "Oh, of course j'^//// stand up for him ; men always do 
 for each other," retorted Lady Bab ; " but I repeat, he 
 ought to be ashamed of himself to have allowed such ai 
 creature as this ever to have obtained any power over 
 him. 
 
 " Ay, but f ra' Solomon downwards, my leedy, what mon 
 is alway' proof against a woman's wiles?" answered the 
 doctor, who was now engaged in mixing a composing 
 draught for Nora. 
 
 " Solomon indeed ! I have always thought Solomon ought 
 to be ashamed of himself, too," sharply replied Lady Bab. 
 " Pray do not bring him up ! " 
 
 "Weel, but if the wisest mon " 
 
 there 
 drink 
 
 then try to get a little rest. The suspense is over now, 
 and let me tell you James Biddulph has had a greater loss 
 than you have had." 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 y- 
 
 I . '' 
 
 ) fl 
 
 
 «S*wSraisT^«M**'v''*«'«i-* 
 
f . 
 
 ao6 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 f 
 
 r 
 1 1 ']■ 
 
 Norn drank what they gave her, and then leaned licr 
 head against Lady Bab's erect, spare form. 
 
 ** The woman he had the misfortune to marry is alive, 
 then, I suppose, and her twin-sister was shot, and thus lie 
 was deceived?" said Lady Bab in her quick way, now 
 looking at the doctor. 
 
 "That is so, my leedy." 
 
 " And there is no mistake ? He was satisfied in his own 
 mind that this was so ?" 
 
 "He was fully satisfied." 
 
 " Then we don't want to hear any horrid details. Now 
 my dear" — and again she turned to Nora — " lie down on 
 the bed, and your friend the doctor here will stay by you 
 until I return. It's a bad business, but it might have been 
 worse, and we must all just try to make the best of it." 
 
 Nora did not refuse Lady Barbara's request. A great 
 bodily weakness seemed to have come over her, as though 
 the mental strain had been too great for its frail tenement 
 of clay. She rose to her feet at Lady Barbara's bidding, 
 but sank back again as if unable to walk. The doctor and 
 Lady Bab, however, assisted her to cross the room, and 
 then Nora lay down on the bed with a deep and weary 
 sigh. 
 
 And after Lady Bab had carefully covered her with a 
 rug, she quietly beckoned to the doctor to follow her one 
 moment from the room. When they were outside, she 
 had a word or two to whisper in his ear. 
 
 "Who is downstairs ?" she asked. " Is that Mr. Frascr 
 there — Mr. Fraser of Airdlinn ? " 
 
 *' Yes, my leedy." 
 
 "Will you, then, ask him to come to speak to me alone 
 for a few minutes ? This wretched story will have to be 
 told, I suppose, and as he is a relative of Miss Stewart's, 
 and looks a kind man, I think he is the best person to tell 
 it to." 
 
 " There's na better fellow in the world than Jock Fra- 
 ser ! Vera weel, then, I'll send him to ye, my leedy." 
 
 " Yes, do ; and where did you leave my nephew, James 
 Biddulph ? " 
 
 " He's at my house in Balla. Don't be hard on him, 
 Leedy Barbara, for his cross is almost too heavy for mor- 
 tal mon to bear." 
 
 " I've no patience " began Lady Barbara ; and then 
 
 she remembered the stricken girl lying inside 'the room, 
 and her voice sank into a whisper. "Tell Mr. Fraser io 
 
 iaiM&i 
 
A STUAJSTGE MESSAGE, 
 
 207 
 
 go into the dining-room, and I shall be there, and then 
 you come back to her" — and she nodded in the direction 
 of the bedroom door — ** for she must not be left alone." 
 
 Having thus given her commands, Lady Barbara re- 
 turned to Nora, until the doctor again knocked at the 
 door, when she quietly left the room, and, descending the 
 staircase, made her way to the dining-room to have her 
 interview with Jock Fraser. 
 
 She found him waiting for her. Jock was standing, 
 with an uneasy look on his kind face, in the centre of the 
 room, and his eyes and Lady Bab's alike involuntarily fell 
 on a great white, massive structure towering on the side- 
 board. 
 
 This was the bridesc; ":e, which had been unpacked be- 
 fore it had been announced by Lady Barbara at breakfast- 
 time that the wedding had been deferred, at least for the 
 day, and no one had liked to interfere and give any orders 
 for its removal. It stood there now, looking strangely 
 out of place somehow, and Lady Bab glanced at it with 
 an impatient sigh. 
 
 ** Good morning, Mr. Fraser," she said the next moment, 
 extending her bony hand. " I little thought when I part- 
 ed with you last night, to be forced this morning to seek 
 such an interview with you as this." 
 
 " They have been saying in the drawing-room that Nora 
 Stewart is too ill to be married to-day, Lady Barbara ; but 
 I hope it is nothing very serious?" answered the kindly 
 Jock, with genuine concern expressed on his honest face. 
 
 " It's about as serious as it can well be, that's the truth, 
 Mr. Fraser, I have not thought much of the sense or dis- 
 cretion of your sex all my life, but I did not expect to be 
 so utterly ashamed of one of my own relations — at least 
 of a young man who bears my name, for, thank Heaven, 
 he is no blood-relation of mine— as 1 am feeling to-day." 
 
 Jock looked more uneasy still. 
 
 "Surely," he began, hesitatingly, ** Nora's illness has 
 nothing to do \vith Mr. Biddulph " 
 
 "It has everything to do with Mr. Biddulph. James 
 Biddulph has caused it by his insane folly, and a pretty 
 story it is for a respectable woman to have to tell to a 
 man. However, the long and the short of it is that it 
 must be told, and therefore I have sent for you, as you 
 are a relation of the poor girl's. You know he was mar- 
 ried long ago ? " T J r> u • 
 
 A spasm passed over poor Jock's face. Lady Bab m 
 
 Lft 'i 
 
 
 \^ f 
 
 «.',,» I 
 
 M f 
 
 VM 
 
 '•E?;'-?-^'?.'«;f:: 
 
Mi 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 W 
 
 
 i 
 
 n 
 
 ■,% 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
 her excitement had forgotten, if she had ever known, who 
 was supposed to be the slayer of Mr. Biddulph's wife. 
 
 "Well, this woman has cast up again " 
 
 " What ? " cried Jock, a gleam of sudden hope and joy 
 lighting his brown eyes ; ** then — then she did not die " 
 
 " U"^ fortunately, she did not die when James Biddulph, 
 to do him justice, and everyone else expected she did. It 
 was her twin-sister, it seems, who was shot ; and this wo- 
 man, this wife of his, had sent this twin-sister down here 
 to try to get more money from this stupid nephew of mine ; 
 for how a man could not recognize his own wife, passes 
 my understanding. However, he did not ; he had never 
 heard of this-twin sister, and they say the likeness between 
 them is, or was, something wonderful. It deceived James 
 Biddulph, at all events, and he believed himself a free man, 
 and thus became engaged to Miss Nora Stewart." 
 
 "And — and this woman, this wife," said Jock Fraser, 
 with faltering tongue and a sinking heart, for his eager 
 hope that his boy's hand was not stained with blood had 
 faded quickly away, " has reappeared ?" 
 
 " He went home and found her waiting for him last night 
 at Dunbaan. He did not believe lier story at first ; he be- 
 lieved that s/te was the twin-sister, and that she had come 
 for the purpose of extorting money, which indeed she had. 
 But he had the honor at least to .come over here and tell 
 the whole truth to Nora Stewart. After be was gone, I 
 heard the poor girl wailing in bitter grief, and I stayed 
 with her all night, for the suspense w^s almost too terrible 
 for her to bear. But it is over now. James Biddulph had 
 the dead woman disinterred an hour ago, and saw these 
 two — these twin-sisters — face to face, and he is satisfied 
 that he had been basely deceived ; that, in truth, his wife 
 is living still." 
 
 "It is terrible for Nora Stewart." 
 
 " Most terrible, and I have sent for you to act as you 
 think right in this matter. There can be no marriage of 
 course now, and the people in the house had better be sent 
 away as quickly as possible." 
 
 Jock Fraser did not speak ; he cast down his eyes, and 
 his lips moved nervously. 
 
 "Will you do this ?" asked Lady Barbara, quickly. 
 
 " Lady Barbara Biddulph," said Jock, now lifting his 
 sad eyes to her face, "it would be painful to me, under the 
 circumstances, to do this. Ask some one else ; say Mrs. 
 Con way- Hope." 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 J09 
 
 "I detest that woman." 
 
 " She is a relation of Nora's also, I can tell her if you 
 
 like." 
 
 '* Very well, settle it between you ; and get the people 
 out of the house, and have all these tilings" — and she 
 pointed to the bridescake — "hidden away from the poor 
 girl's sight." 
 
 While this conversation was going on downstairs between 
 Lady Barbara and Jock Fraser, upstairs Nora and the doc- 
 tor were exchanging a few sad words. 
 
 He did not speak to her when he first went into the 
 room, but sat quietly down by the fire, looking vaguely at 
 the glowing embers, and thinking sorrowfi ''y enougli of 
 the terrible wreck that had come to two young lives. 
 
 But presently Nora moved on the bed, and turned her 
 head and looked at him. 
 
 "Are you there, doctor ?" she said, with a pathetic ring 
 in her low voice. 
 
 "Yes, my dear young leedy," he answered, rising and 
 going toward her ; "and how are ye feeling now ?" 
 
 " I want you to tell me about James — about Mr. Bid- 
 dulph," she said, lifting her dark eyes to his face. '* Where 
 is he now ? " 
 
 " He's at my house ; I left him there till I came to tell 
 ye my ill news." 
 
 "Tell him from me," said Nora, a faint color for a mo- 
 ment stealing to her pale face, " that he must not grieve ; 
 that — that this can make no change to my heart." 
 
 The doctor heaved a heavy sigh. 
 
 " Things may change," he said, " for htiman life is ay' 
 uncertain — like its joys and woes." 
 
 '< We — were so happy," said Nora, with a httle tremu- 
 lous break in her voice. 
 
 " Ay, that was plain to see. He just worshipped the 
 ground ye trod on, Miss Stewart ; and he's broken down 
 wi' grief, puir fellow ! " 
 
 " But tell him, for my sake " began Nora, and then 
 
 a little sob choked her utterance. 
 
 "Have ye na little token to send him ?" said the doc- 
 tor, clearing his throat to hide his own emotion—" a bit 
 of ribbon, or a flower, or something, just to show him a 
 kindness.?" 
 
 Poor Nora looked around, and on all sides little tokens 
 
 14 
 
 •. } 
 
 aftHBi B' M' j i sai s >/ m Krf*iTi 
 
110 
 
 A STKANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 n 
 
 met her eyes of the marriage which was not to be — white 
 flowers, white ribbons, white gloves ; she could not send 
 him these, when black sorrow lay so heavy on his heart. 
 But some rings were lying on the toilet-table, valuable 
 rings flung carelessly down last night in her overwhehniii;^ 
 grief; and she asked the doctor to hand her one of these, 
 a diamond ring she often wore. 
 
 " Give him this," she said, " and — and tell him the 
 sender will not change ; tell him^ " 
 
 At this moment the bedroom door opened with a sud- 
 den jerk, and Lady Bab walked into the loom, while 
 the doctor hastily concealed the ring in his waistcoat- 
 pocket. 
 
 But Lady Bab's eyes had been too sharp for him. She 
 saw the glitter of the diamonds as they disappeared into 
 the doctor's pocket, but she made no comment. 
 
 " How are you now, my dear ? " she said to Nora, ap- 
 proaching the bed. 
 
 ** I feel a little better. Lady Barbara," answered Nora. 
 
 "You look a little better; the doctor's visit seems to 
 have done you good." 
 
 "And as I've other puir sick folk to look to, my lecdy, 
 I'll just take my leave for the present ; but I'll drop in and 
 see how Miss Sr wart is going on in an hour or twa," said 
 the doctor, with rather a guilty look. 
 
 "All right ; I will take care of her." 
 
 So the doctor escaped with his prize, thinking grimly to 
 himself as he went, that he was in truth a strange bearer 
 of a love-token. 
 
 " Of a' the queer emissaries o' Cupid, I'm about the 
 queerest, I think ; but what matter, if it eases a bit their 
 puir aching hearts ? " 
 
 h< 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 A MAN S DESPAIR. 
 
 He went straight home, and when he entered his little 
 parlor he found Biddulph sitting there v/ith folded arms, 
 and his head bowed upon his breast. He looked up as the 
 doctor opened the door, and there was despair in his gray 
 eyes, and on his haggard face. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 211 
 
 " Wccl, and how are ye getting on ? " said the doctor, 
 with affected cheerfulness. 
 
 But Biddulph made no answer. He had been sitting 
 tliere alone and silent ever since he had quitted the kirk 
 with the doctor, and the darkest gloom overwhelmed his 
 soul. There was no loophole, it seemed to him, no light. 
 And the bitterest anguish was in his heart too, when he 
 thought of Nora Stewart. The blight that he had brought 
 on her young life, the crushing misery on the day she had 
 fondly dreamed was to be her bridal one, added a hundred- 
 fold to his own wretchedness, and hope had died for him, 
 leaving him but black despair. 
 
 " Have you seen her?" he said at length, while the doctor 
 was trying to frame some consolatory words. 
 
 " I just have, then ; and I've left her mair composed than 
 we could hope for, and she bade me tell ye that ye are na* 
 to grieve." 
 
 "Not to grieve !" said Biddulph, starting to his feet; 
 "when every hope of my life is shattered at one blow? 
 Doctor," he went on excitedly, " it seems too hideous, too 
 hideous to be true, and yet it is true ; yon miserable 
 woman whispered a few words in my ear which none but 
 she could know." 
 
 " Don't distract yer mind any mair about the truth o' it, 
 Mr. Biddulph ; we must accept that. And Miss Nora 
 Stewart, as I was telling ye, knows it all ; and she sent ye a 
 token by me — this ring — and she bade me tell ye her heart 
 would know na change." 
 
 These words greatly affected Biddulph. He took the 
 ring in his trembling hand and again sat down, turning his 
 face away from the doctor. 
 
 " That old leedy, yer aunt, left me alone wi' her for a 
 while, and her first thoughts were for ye. Where were 
 ye ? she asked ; and she bade me say to ye that for her 
 sake ye had na to grieve ; and there was a look in her 
 bonny dark eyes when she spoke of ye that a mon's heart 
 might be proud to ha' won." 
 
 " But that's the bitterest of it all, the pain to her ; I 
 could bear it but for that— bear my own disappointment 
 and unutterable shame ! But to think of this girl, this 
 noble, gentle girl, utterly unmans me." 
 
 " It's a sare blow, na doubt, and sarer because it fa's on 
 the bonny lassie who loves ye sa weel. But, mon, it must 
 just be borne like any other evil thing." 
 
 " It's easy talking." 
 
 1 r^- 
 
 ' 
 
 W' 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 *l, 1 
 
 ^ '1 
 
 li 
 
 m M 
 
 m 
 
213 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 4 
 
 "And d'ye think I've na feeling too? I'd rather ha' cut 
 off my right hand, Mr. Biddulph, than ha gan' wi' the 
 news I had to cairry to Rossmore to-day." 
 
 "Forgive me ; you are very good, very kind, but grief 
 makes one selfish, I suppose. And did she say anything 
 else?" 
 
 " The old leedy did not gi' us much time ; and she'd her 
 eye on me, keen as a hawk's, as I slipped the ring into my 
 waistcoat. But she's a kind heart ; she railed sare at mon- 
 folk fra' Solomon downward ; but there was a soft glint 
 passed o'er her face vvhene'r she looked at Miss Nora 
 Stewart." 
 
 Biddulph made no answer to this, but began walking up 
 and down the little room. 
 
 " There is but one thing left for me to do in honor," 
 he said presently, as though half speaking to himself. 
 
 " And that is ?" said the doctor, and then he paused. 
 
 " To go away out of her life, and out of her sight, t 
 have no right to blight her whole existence. I know her 
 nature ; she would cling to me even now, as she clung to 
 me when they called me a murderer. But this must not 
 be ; I will see her again, and then leave England for years 
 — and she will forget." 
 
 His voice trembled and broke as he uttered the last few 
 words, and the doctor looked at him with the deepest 
 pity. 
 
 He opened his lips to speak, when a ring came to the 
 house door-bell, and he approached the window to see if it 
 were a patient. 
 
 It was a lad with a note ; and a moment or two later, the 
 elderly woman who was the doctor's sole domestic rapped 
 at the room door, and put in her head. 
 
 " It's a note for the gentleman, sir," she said. 
 
 The doctor held out his hand and took the note, and, 
 after glancing at the address, handed it to Biddulph. 
 
 And when Biddulph saw the handwriting, a terrible 
 look came over his face, and he flung it passionately on 
 the floor. 
 
 " This is too much !" he said. 
 
 «' Is it fra' " 
 
 " The woman who has blighted my whole life, who has 
 been its curse, its bane ! You may read it if you like," he 
 continued bitterly ; ** it will harp on one string — * money, 
 give me money to gamble and to drink.' " 
 
 The doctor stooped down and picked up the note, and 
 
A STRANGE MESS A GE . 
 
 213 
 
 would have again handed it to Biddulph, but he would 
 nut take it. 
 
 " No," he said ; " she has done her worst now, and I will 
 never again speak a word to her, nor read a line she 
 writes. I will allow her the same income which she had 
 before I inherited Dunbaan — four hundred a year — so 
 that she may not starve, but not a penny more." 
 
 " It's mair than enough ; but the laddie's waiting at the 
 door for an answer., sa what shall I say ?" 
 
 " There is no answer ; give him back the note." 
 
 " Eh, mon, but if ye do that, she'll be here before we 
 can turn oursel's round. I'll see her if it pleases ye, and 
 tell her what ye say, and what ye mean to allow her for 
 her maintenance." 
 
 " Will you really do this ? If you will I shall be greatly 
 indebted to you ; and you can give her some money " — 
 and he put his hand in his pocket and drew out some gold 
 .ind notes — " to pay her train and get her away. Here is 
 ten pounds, and when she gets to London she will find 
 one hundred awaiting her at my solicitor's. And eacli 
 quarter one hundred will be paid her, nothing more nor 
 less." 
 
 Biddulph spoke briefly, harshly, and the doctor saw 
 this was no time to discuss the matter further with 
 him. 
 
 " I'll just put on my hat and go at once, then," he said. 
 "Will ye bide here till I come back ?" 
 
 "I don't want to hear wht.t she says; I will listen to 
 nothing. But don't let her come to Dunbaan. If she 
 comes there it will be at her own peril." 
 
 " I'll get her away as quietly as I can. Weel, then, 
 guid-bye for the present, Mr. Biddulph , and if ye're not 
 here \vhen I return, I'll see ye across the water before 
 nightfall." 
 
 " I will come here during the evening. I want to hear 
 how " 
 
 " I understand," said the doctor, nodding his head ; and 
 then he left the room, and Biddulph watched his tall, 
 ungainly figure wending down the village, until he 
 stopped at the little hostelry where Madame de Beranger, 
 as she called herself, was supposed to be staying. 
 
 He asked to see her, and found her sitting in the littiG 
 parlor upstairs, with a bottle of whiskey on the table, and 
 two empty soda-water bottles. But she was sober enough. 
 She looked up as the doctor rapped at the room door, and 
 
 
 
 ^ m 
 
 m ■| 
 
 M 
 
214 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 ■T 
 
 1,'- 
 
 1 
 
 ' j 
 
 ^mimmm. 
 
 1 
 
 smiled and nodded her head, for she at once rev. \^nized 
 him. 
 
 " I suppose you have come from that husband of 
 mine ?" she said. 
 
 " I've come fra' Mr. Biddulph," he answered, gravely. 
 
 "Well, he's my husband sure enough, though it's been 
 bad luck for us both that we ever were married. However, 
 what's done can't be undone. Does he agree, then, to my 
 claims about the money?" 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph, ma'am, didna take any claims into 
 consideration, if they were put forth in yer letters, for he 
 never read it, and refuses to read it." 
 
 " Oh, but I must have the money," said the woman, rising 
 impatiently. 
 
 *' I'm empowered by Mr. Biddulph to inform ye, ma'am, 
 what he will do. He will pay ye one hundred pounds 
 quarterly — four hundred pounds per annum, not a bawbee 
 less nor more." 
 
 "Ah ! that won't do," cried Madame de Beranger, with 
 ■ shrill laugh. " He'll have to pay me" a great ir«any more 
 bawbees, as you call them, than a paltry four hundred a year. 
 Why, I had that when he had no money but what his 
 father allowed him, and d'ye think I'd put up with it 
 now ? I want a lump sum down, and I told him so in my 
 letters ; I ?nust have it, or I shall be arrested." 
 
 " Weel, ma'am, maybe a short sojourn in 'durance vile' 
 wad do ye na ill turn." 
 
 Again the woman laughed, and looked at the doctor 
 with her bold, bright dark eyes. 
 
 "That was a horrid sight in the church, or the kirk, as 
 you call it here, wasn't it to-day ? I've had to refresh myself 
 after it, I can tell you ; " and she pointed to the whiskey- 
 bottle. "So James Biddulph has sent you to deal with 
 me, has he ? Well, sit down and have some whiskey, and 
 we'll talk it over." 
 
 The poor doctor was, it must be admitted, fond of 
 whiskey, and he was also tired with his disturbed night and 
 his disturbed feelings. He looked at the whiskey-bottle, 
 and the temptation to accept her offer grew strong within 
 him. 
 
 " I'll just take a wee drop," he said, "for, as ye say, yon 
 was a grim sight." 
 
 " It was too horrid ; " and she shuddered. " It was 
 brutal of James Biddulph to force me to go through it. 
 He has acted like a fool. If he had accepted my offer 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 2rS 
 
 ^nized 
 
 bnd of 
 
 ively. 
 t's been 
 >wever, 
 ., to my 
 
 »s into 
 for he 
 
 •, rising 
 
 ma'am, 
 pounds 
 bawbee 
 
 ^r, with 
 ly more 
 i a year, 
 hat his 
 with it 
 3 in my 
 
 ::e vile ' 
 
 doctor 
 
 :irk, as 
 myself 
 liskey- 
 l1 with 
 ;y, and 
 
 )nd of 
 ht and 
 bottle, 
 within 
 
 y, yon 
 
 t was 
 
 gh it. 
 
 offer 
 
 last night, and given me five thousand pounds to go quietly 
 away, he would have been a wiser man. You know the 
 girl, I suppose, he was going to marry ? " 
 
 " I know Miss Leonora Stewart, and a sweeter, bonnier 
 lassie does not live." 
 
 ''Poor James!" scoffed the woman. "Yet I declare I 
 felt sorry for him last night, wlien he saw his dearly be- 
 loved wife standing again before him, on the eve of his 
 second wedding day. But I was forced to come. I am 
 fairly cleaned out, and I must have money at once ; so 
 come drink your whiskey and sit down, and we'll see what 
 we can arrange between us." 
 
 The doctor drank some whiskey and sat down, looking 
 at the woman warily, however, with his small intelligent 
 eyes. 
 
 " I'm empowered to make no further offer," he said. 
 " That is nonsense. I may as well tell you at once, I 
 won't leave Scotland until I've got a good round sum ; in 
 fact, I can't. I suppose," she added, smiling, "you doc- 
 tors are not over paid in an out of the wav place like 
 this?" 
 
 "I canna* complain wi' being over-burdened with cash," 
 answered the doctor, dryly. 
 
 "Just so ! And you would not object, I suppose, to 
 make a hundred or a hundred and fifty on easier terms 
 than tramping from hamlet to hamlet, with your pills in 
 your pockets, would you ? " 
 
 "I fail to follow yer drift, ma'am." 
 " It is this " — and Madame de Beranger bent nearer to 
 him — "James Biddulph is rich. I want five thousand, 
 pounds down, and if you can induce him to give me this, 
 and my usual allowance, I will give you, say, a hundred 
 and fifty, and no one need be the wiser." 
 
 But the doctor at once rose to his feet, and drew up his 
 tall, ungainly figure to his full height as he listened to 
 this offer. 
 
 " I may as weel tell ye, ma'am, that I hope I may call 
 mysel' an honest mon," he said, with a certain look of dig- 
 nity on his homely features, which only provoked the 
 laughter of the woman he was addressing. 
 
 " Honest ! ' she echoed, scornfully ; " that's a virtue con- 
 siderably gone out of fashion of late years. Is there any 
 one quite honest, do you think ? Of course, we pay our 
 debts when we've got the money to pay them, and don't 
 steal unless our necessities arc very great. But cheaiijg 
 
 W ' 
 
 ''4 
 
 
 '^1 i 
 
 U ,h 
 
 I t 
 
 .. Mu.MimHmf'X 
 
2 £6 
 
 A. STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 '%. 
 
 I 
 
 V 
 
 I 
 
 I, 
 
 and lying, and trying to take in our neighbors for our own 
 advantage in the way of business, is pretty gjnerally prac- 
 tised, isn't it ? This is a matter of business between you 
 and me. James Biddulph has sent you here to make a 
 bargain with me, and if you make a good one for me, I 
 am willing to pay you. What harm is there in it, if you 
 look at it in the right way ? " 
 
 " It's not my way, anyhow. Mr. Biddulph sent me here 
 to make na bargain with ye. He sent me here to tell ye 
 that he'll gi' ye four hundred a year, and nothing main 
 And he sent ten pounds to pay yer expenses and get ye 
 away." 
 
 "Ten pounds I This is too absurd! Well, I shall just 
 go and see him myself. Has he gone back to Dunbaan 
 yet ? " 
 
 " Ma'am," said t'le doctor, earnestly, " will ye take the 
 aSvice of one who wishes ye na ill ? Don't go near James 
 Biddulph any main Yer sister came to a bloody end by a 
 rash act, and I warn ye that ye've roused the vera dell in 
 the mon whose life ye've spoilt." 
 
 " But what am I to do?" said the woman, beginning to 
 walk up and down the room in an agitated manner. "I 
 owe money right and left. Do tell him to give me some- 
 thing worth having— say two thousand." 
 
 " He swore he would not." 
 
 " But I've a right to it ; I am his wife, and have a legal 
 ciriim lo a good income." 
 
 " Which he offers ye ; and I doo't vera much but that 
 ye've lost yer right altogetlier for maintenance, seeing ye 
 allowed yer sister to be buried in yer plr.cs, and she had 
 on the marriage ring, puirsoul, and, as there's not a pin's 
 head to choose betwixt ye, in any court o' law Mr. Bid- 
 dulph might be justified in saying he does not believe ye 
 are his wife still.'* 
 
 " But he does not deny this ; he did not deny it to-day." 
 
 " Na ; but he might deny it to-morrow, for in truth he 
 has little certainty to go on." 
 
 The woman made no answer, but continued walking 
 resdessly about the room again for the next few minutes. 
 Then she stopped suddenly before the doctor, and looked 
 straight in his face. 
 
 "What wouM he give to be free altogether, do you 
 think?" she asked. "How much money, if I were to 
 stand up and say I have been humbugging him all this 
 time ? that the po x dead one " — and she slightly shivered 
 
 ^" is 
 think, 
 more ? 
 
 "Wi 
 
 cm r 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 217 
 
 lr own 
 
 prac- 
 jn you 
 lake a 
 
 me, 1 
 If you 
 
 mair. 
 ^et ye 
 
 that 
 
 —"is really Natalie; would he pay me well then, do you 
 think, and let me go away from here, and see his face no 
 more ? " 
 
 "Woman, would ye tempt him to commit a deadful 
 sin ? " cried the doctor, horror-stricken. 
 
 " What do I care for his sin, or sorrows either, for that 
 matter? What I want is money, or you may be sure I 
 would not have been here at all." 
 
 "But, surely," said the doctor, much moved, "there is 
 na truth in this? Ye said ye were his wife in the house of 
 God, did ye foreswear yersel' then ? " 
 
 "That is my secret," answered the woman, defiantly ; 
 " the secret I will selW 
 
 " But think o' the misery ye have brought about," said 
 the doctor, almost pleadingly. "Yon young leedy at 
 Rossmore is just broken-hearted wi' her sare grief. 
 Would you lead her into sin as weel as sorrow, for 
 the sake of what he canna' take away with ye, when 
 ye go on yer lang journey, which yer sister has gane be- 
 fore ? " 
 
 " I'll do anything for money, and if he gives me enough 
 I am ready to swear one way or the other." 
 
 The doctor did not speak for a moment or two ; then he 
 said, determinatelv : 
 
 " I'll ha' no hand in such a business. I'll na gan' to him 
 and distract his mind again wi' doubts and fears. He be- 
 lieves ye are the woman he wed twelve years ago, and I 
 believe ye are ; and if ye are not, yc'U ha' to answer for 
 yer base deceit to the Almighty God." 
 
 The woman seemed slightly awed at this, for the doc- 
 tor's manner was very solemn. 
 
 " Well, will you try to get me some money, then ? " she 
 said, a minute later. 
 
 "I'll try ; but if my puir words ha' any influence on ye, 
 never speak again the words ye ha' just spoken." 
 
 " Do then, like a good soul, get what you can for me," 
 urged the woman. 
 
 " Weel, I'll see ye again in the morning, then," said the 
 doctor, after a moment's hesitation ; and then he left her 
 refusing her pressing offers to take any more whiskey, and 
 with a very grave and sombre face he returned to his own 
 home. 
 
 But Biddulph was gone. There was a note, however, 
 written by him, lying on the table, which the doctor read 
 with a sad heart. 
 
 :V' , 
 
 \>:i 
 
 t. 
 
 iti 
 
9t8 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 " I shall call this evening after it is dark, as I wish to 
 know how N. S. is ; and if I find you out, I will await your 
 return. Tell her, if you have an opportunity, that when 
 I die, the ring she sent me to-day will still be on my hand. 
 I shall never part with it in life, and will direct that after 
 my death it shall be buried with me." "J. B." 
 
 Not a word of the woman the doctor had just left ; none 
 of the tie which seemed somehow more unreal to the poor 
 doctor's mind after the words still ringing in his ears — the 
 offer to swear that tie was false, for the sake of gold ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 NO MARRIAGE. 
 
 Jock Fraser having summoned Mrs. Conway-Hope to 
 him and imparted his grievous news, that lady felt no 
 small satisfaction in repeating to Jock that she had had a 
 presentiment of ill ever since the question of this marriage 
 was mooted. 
 
 " I was sure something would happen," she said, " from 
 the day when poor Nora came to my sick-room, unduly 
 elated, I thought, to announce to me that she was engaged 
 to Mr. Biddulph. I shall have a dread of my inward warn- 
 ings again, Mr. Fraser, for this one was so distinct and 
 vivid ; though, indeed, the terrible reality surpasses my ex- 
 pectations." 
 
 There was a time when this speech would have tickled 
 poor Jock Fraser's sense of humor ; but now, so over- 
 whelming to him was the memory of the position of his 
 son that no gleam «tole into his brown eyes. 
 
 "Will you tell the people, vhen, Mrs. Conway-Hope, 
 that there is to be no marriage, and get them aw^ay?" lie 
 said ; " and I'll take Minnie home. As for poor Nora 
 Stewart, it's too dreadful to think of it." 
 
 " Too dreadful ! " echoed Mrs. Conway-Hope, with a sigh, 
 raising her eyebrows and her angular shoulders at the 
 same time. " But you must have some lunch before you 
 go, Mr. Fraser ; with all the marriage preparations in the 
 house, it is no use wasting good food." 
 
 But the kindly Jock shook his head. 
 
 *' This story has taken away my appetite, Mrs. Conway- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 S19 
 
 wish to 
 ^ait your 
 'at when 
 >y hand. 
 
 |hat after 
 
 ^J. B." 
 
 > none 
 
 fft 
 
 the poor 
 
 lars— the 
 Id! 
 
 Jope to 
 
 felt no 
 
 Ld had a 
 
 larriage 
 
 , "from 
 unduly 
 '"gaged 
 d vvarn- 
 ict and 
 my ex- 
 tickled 
 ' over- 
 of his 
 
 Hope, 
 
 '?"he 
 Nora 
 
 I sigh, 
 Lt the 
 J you 
 n the 
 
 way- 
 
 Hope," he said, "and thinking of yon poor girl. I'll just 
 go home, and take Minnie along with me ; thank you all 
 the same." 
 
 " Have some wine, in any case. And we must try to get 
 that dreadful person, Lady Barbara Biddulph, out of the 
 house first." 
 
 Jock made no answer. He took up his hat in the hall 
 and went outside, walking up and down the terrace in 
 front of the house sadly enough ; for he was fond of Nora 
 Stewart, and was grieving very sincerely for her grief. 
 And as he walked thus, the Rev. Andrew' Macdonald was 
 seen approaching up the avenue, and presently joined 
 Jock, full, we may be sure, of the grim scene which had 
 taken place a short while ago in the kirk at Balla. 
 
 " My dear sir," said the Rev. Andrew, " I have not been 
 so upset since I entered the ministry. The likeness be- 
 tween the living and the dead was ghastly, and overwhelm- 
 ing in the extreme. But I conceive there is no reason to 
 doubt ; Mr. Biddulph has been made the subject of a most 
 cruel deception." 
 
 "And my cousin. Miss Stewart, is the victim," answered 
 Jock, with some anger in his tone. 
 
 " It is most unfortunate, most disastrous, from first to 
 last," said the Rev. Andrew ; and then he gave a little 
 cough, and a blush rose on his fresh-colored, not un- ^ 
 comely visage. He had forgotten for the moment the mis- 
 erable connection of Malcolm Fraser with the whole ter- 
 rible affair, until the spasm of pain that passed over Jock 
 Eraser's face recalled it to his recollection. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Mrs. Conway-Hope was telling the 
 same sad story in the drawing-room to the assembled 
 guests. She had hurried away from Jock Fraser brimful 
 of her news. No human heart, let us hope at least, is en- 
 tirely evil. Some good, the love for a dead mother, for a 
 wife or child, lurks surely in the most degraded breast. 
 Therefore it seems hard to write that Mrs. Conway-Hope 
 enjoyed relating how a death-blow had fallen on her young 
 cousin's happiness. It is impossible that she really could 
 do this ; but the excitement of being the first to tel) a dread- 
 ful tale, to have her presentiment against this marriage 
 verified, made her almost appear to do so ; and Lord Glen- 
 doyne, a gentleman and a man of some refinement, listened 
 completely disgusted, regarding the gray tinted face of 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope, to whose faded cheeks an unwonted 
 flush had risen, with scarcely veiled contempt. 
 
 
 fl f 
 
 6, ; ;, 
 
 :'.?'^ 
 
 ''4 f 
 
 m 
 
 1 -cL 
 
 **- 
 
 if 
 
 
B29 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 A 
 
 II 
 
 1 
 
 
 ■f- 
 
 i : 
 
 
 
 J 
 
 ^ 
 
 i 
 
 " The deepest sympathy can only be felt for Mr. Bid- 
 dulph," he said, as Mrs. Conway-Hope paused to breathe. 
 
 "I feel sympathy for him, of course," she answered; 
 ** sympathy, however, I must admit, considerably lessened 
 by my knowledge of iiis conduct. And I warned my cousin, 
 Lord Glendoyne, that I had no trust in him. Poor giil, 
 she has found my words come tvue too late ! " 
 
 "I always liked him," said Glendoyne, " and I feel for 
 him most deeply ; and, if I may be permitted to say so, for 
 Miss Nora Stewart also, for whom I have the highest 
 admiration and regard." 
 
 ** Poor darling Nora ! " cried Maud Lee. 
 
 " It is a dreadful thing to have happened," said her 
 younger sister Alice, in a pensive undertone. 
 
 Glendoyne looked from one girl to the other, and then 
 at the fair face of Minnie Fraser, who had listened to Mrs. 
 Conway-Hope's news with such emotion that her face 
 had flushed strangely, and her blue eyes were full of 
 tears. 
 
 " I see you feel this very much," s?id Glendoyne to her, 
 a few moments later. "Will you tell Miss Stewart from 
 me, when you see her, how truly sorry I am also ? As for 
 that detestable old woman, I should like to throw her out 
 of the window." 
 
 Minnie smiled faintly, and glanced timidly up in the 
 good-looking Anglo-Indian's face, 
 
 " I — think it will just break Nora's heart," said Minnie, 
 in a tremulous little voice ; " and — they seemed so happy 
 last night." 
 
 " Happiness somehow does not flourish in this sublunary 
 scene, I have frequently remarked," answered Glendoyne. 
 " If we are only miserable enough, or worried enough, 
 length of days is mostly given us wherewithal to enjoy 
 these luxuries in full. But if a man gets his heart's desire 
 — if he is rich enough, shall we say ? to indulge in that 
 heart's desire — ten to one it is snatched away, when 
 sweetest, from his grasp." 
 
 This speech brought a brighter rose-bloom to the young 
 girl's cheeks to whom it was addressed, and a dangerous 
 throb to her heart. She did not think exactly. Was she 
 his " heart's desire ?" but it was a vague joy to her that he 
 should talk to her thus. And in truth Gleadoyne, looking 
 at her at this moment in her white bridesmaid's dress, 
 was thinking how fair she was, and that her character was 
 a very sweet and lovable one. 
 
 nor 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 331 
 
 Mr. Bid. 
 
 breathe, 
 msvvered ; 
 
 lessened 
 'y cousin^ 
 ^oor giri^ 
 
 feel for 
 Jay so, for 
 highest 
 
 said her 
 
 and then 
 id to Mrs. 
 her face 
 ■ fuil of 
 
 »e to her. 
 
 ni 
 
 art fro 
 
 ? As for 
 
 her out 
 
 P in the 
 
 Minnie, 
 3 happy 
 
 bJ unary 
 ndoyne. 
 enough, 
 3 enjoy 
 s desire 
 in that 
 when 
 
 young 
 gerous 
 as she 
 hat he 
 )oking 
 dress, 
 2r was 
 
 *'Biit it is out of the question," he also thought ; "all 
 [the same, she is a dear little girl." 
 
 But a minute later, Jock Fraser, followed by the Rev. 
 Andrew Macdonald, entered the room, and Jock at once 
 went up to his daugiiter. 
 
 "Minnie my dear, we had best go home now," he said. 
 "Good-by, Lord Glendoyne ; " and he held out his 
 hand. 
 
 " But I am leaving immediately, also," answered Glen- 
 doyne, taking Jock's hand. " I shall stay at the lodge for 
 a couple of days ; and before I leave, may I give myself 
 the pleasure of calling at Airdlinn, Mr. Fraser ? " 
 
 " \Ve shall be pleased to see you," said Jock ; and he 
 turned away, and, declining all Mrs. Conway-Mope's offers 
 of hospitality, he left Rossmore, feeling that it would be 
 impossible for him to set down at a table from which the 
 expected bride was absent, and lying upstairs in bitter 
 grief. 
 
 But whatever might be the emotions of the other guests, 
 thev did not show them in the same manner as honest 
 Jock. The Rev. Andrew Macdonald had been bidden to 
 the wedding breakfast, and he did not refuse to partake of 
 it under the altered circumstances. He put on a pensive 
 air, indeed, instead of a jovial one, to commence with, but 
 cheered up amazingly after a glass or two of champagne, 
 and ate with unimpaired appetite in spite of the horrors 
 he had gone through. Only Lady Barbara Biddulph did 
 not appear, "for which we have indeed much cause to be 
 thankful," smiled Mrs. Conway-Hope. 
 
 After lunch was over, for the word "breakfast" had 
 been dropped by common consent. Lord Glendoyne left 
 Rossmore, though the Lees entreated him to remain over 
 the day. 
 
 '• Do stay, out of compassion to us," said Maud Lee. 
 "We cannot start until to-morrow morning, and how are 
 we to get over the day with no one to amuse us?" 
 
 " I am sorry I cannot help you," answered Glendoyne, 
 a little grimly. 
 
 But after he was gone, she drew the Rev. Andrew a 
 little aside, and listened with no slight interest to the de- 
 scription of the weird scene in the kirk, which he detailed at 
 her request. 
 
 "And she is not pretty, then, this wife, nor attractive, 
 nor young"? How very droll ! "' cried Maud Lee. 
 
 " She is not, Miss Lee ; she has none of those charms 
 
 \\ 
 
 I!, r 
 
 i; 
 
 •t? .^ 
 
 If*' 
 
 lyl'J" 
 
222 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 % 
 
 which we look for and find in your sex," answ ^rf:.d the Rev. 
 Andrew. 
 
 " Poor Mr. Biddulph ! " said Maud, with a iUtle laugh. 
 
 " He is certainly much to be pitied, to lose a lady en. 
 dowed with fortune and personal attractions alike must be 
 a heavy blow to any man." 
 
 "Well, he will just have to make the best of it ; and, of 
 course, Nora will marry some one else." 
 
 "No doubt that will be so. Miss Lee ; and we must trust 
 and hope that Miss Nora's next choice vvill be a happier 
 one ; " and the Rev. Andrew smiled a complacent smile. 
 
 And another man also smiled a complacent smile when 
 he heard that Nora Stewart's marriage was broken off, and 
 that Mr. Biddulph's first wife had reappeared on the scene. 
 This was Alick Fraser. He had been invited to the wed- 
 ding, but he had declined, and haa pretended he had a 
 business engagement in Glasgow, and had left Inismorc 
 on the previous day, with a bitter, angry, and disappointed 
 heart. 
 
 But he returned on the afternoon of what he supposed 
 had been the marriage day, when ** it was all over," he 
 told himself ; and, with a certain restless feeling he could 
 not restrain, he crossed the loch and went to Airdlinn, to 
 hear " how it went off," as he knew by this time his broth- 
 er and Minnie would probably have returned from Ross- 
 more. 
 
 II J walked with his stalwart step into the breakfast-room 
 of the house, and found Jock and his wife sitting in the 
 semi-darkness over the fire. 
 
 " So you've got back, Alick," said Jock, rising to welcome 
 his brother. 
 
 " Yes, found I could manage it, and so I came home to- 
 day instead of to-morrow. Well, and how did the bride 
 and the gay bridegroom comport themselves?" asked 
 Alick, with affected jocularity. 
 
 Jock looked at his wife, hesitated a moment, and then 
 said, in rather a low tone : 
 
 " The marriage did not take place, Alick. A most extra- 
 ordinary thing has occurred." 
 
 '* What ! " exclaimed Alick ; and his healthful skin paled 
 a little, and then flushed, and a great throb stirred his 
 heart. 
 
 " It is a dreadful story," went on Jock, casting down his 
 eyes and thinking of his absent boy. *' Yon poor woman 
 who was unhappily shot in the Glen of Balla, turns out 
 
 Wh 
 
 same 
 
 thou^ 
 
 ings 
 
 "I 
 
 cann 
 
 note 
 
 saw 
 
 face 
 
 B 
 
 pos 
 
 and 
 
 wh 
 
 oft 
 
 wis 
 
 ■ ■iir-ii*i«<h»*iM»Miiii 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 223 
 
 |d the Rev. 
 
 le Jaugh. 
 
 ^ady en. 
 \^ must be 
 
 ; and, of 
 
 lUst trust 
 happier 
 |t smile, 
 lile when 
 -^ off, and 
 he scene. 
 the wed- 
 le had a 
 Inismore 
 Ppointed 
 
 upposed 
 >ver," he 
 he could 
 dlinn, to 
 is broth- 
 >m Ross- 
 
 ist-room 
 r in the 
 
 reico 
 
 m( 
 
 ome to- 
 
 e bride 
 
 asked 
 
 ^d then 
 extra- 
 paled 
 
 3d his 
 
 vn his 
 Oman 
 s out 
 
 now not to have been really Mr. Biddulph's wife, but her 
 twin-sister, and the likeness between them deceived him." 
 
 "Then," cried Alick, excited beyond his usual self-con- 
 trol, "this fellow is still a married man, after all! How 
 was it found out? The scoundrel! I dare say he knew 
 all the while." 
 
 ''That's unjust to Biddulph, Alick. He certainly be- 
 lieved his wife was dead, and had never heard of iier twin- 
 sister until last night. It's a terrible business for Nora 
 Stewart, and the poor girl is just broken down with 
 grief." 
 
 "She'll get over that," answered Alick, in his resolute 
 way. "She has had a lucky escape, and will make a wiser 
 choice next time ;" and lie smiled. He would win her now, 
 he was thinking, and this failure of his, which he never 
 could understand, would come right at last. 
 
 And he could not hide his elation from his brother's and 
 his sister-in-law's eyes. Mrs. Jock, watching him, began 
 to understand it all. Alick had wished to marry Nora 
 Stewart, and thus had refused to be present at her wedding, 
 and now he would try again. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE DOCTOR S BARGAIN. 
 
 When the doctor went to see Nora again during the 
 same afternoon, he took Biddulph's note with him, 
 though his conscience somewhat reproached him for do- 
 ing so. 
 
 " I suppose I shouldna do it ; but wee), weel, I just 
 canna' help it," he muttered to himself, as he placed the 
 note in his pocket ; and when he entered her room, he 
 saw Nora's dark eyes at once wander inquiringly to his 
 face. 
 
 But Lady Barbara was sitting there, and this made his 
 position a difficult one, for Lady Bab's eyes were keen 
 and her wits sharp. She could not understand, indeed, 
 why the tall, ungainly man kept shifting his position so 
 often, and at last it occurred to her mind that he might 
 wish to speak to Miss Nora Stewart alone. 
 
 "Have you anything to say to Miss Stewart?" she 
 
 . ■ f. 
 
 ■4-?. 
 
 ■H:' 111 it 
 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 A 
 
 
 asked, in her direct way, " that you do not wish mc lo 
 hear ? liecaiise, if so, I will leave you." 
 
 "Wcel, my leedy," answered the doctor, blushing scir- 
 let, " I ha' a medical question or twa " 
 
 " All right," said Lady Bab, interrupting him and ris- 
 ing ; "I leave you two together, then, for the present;" 
 and she left tlic room, and the doctor was at liberty to 
 produce Biddulph's note, which he did with something 
 between a groan and a sigh. 
 
 "I gave him yer ring," he said, "and the puir fellow 
 nigh broke down o'er it, but it did him gude all the same. 
 And he left tliis note, Miss Leonora Stewart; and as the 
 grist o' it is a message to yersel*, I thought I might as 
 weel fetch it along wi' me — so there it is ;" and he thrust 
 Biddulph's note into Nora's hand, his conscience smiting 
 him, however, as he did so. 
 
 And when the poor girl saw the words which Biddulph 
 had penned in his despair, her tears fell fast. He would 
 never part, then, with the token she had sent him of a 
 love that could have no change. The doctor had turned 
 away his head, and then walked to the window, while 
 Nora read and re-read the brief lines that to her seemed 
 so precious. The cruel blow which had fallen on them 
 both had left their hearts unaltered, and to the woman 
 this thought brought immense consolation and peace. 
 
 " When you see him ;" she began, and the doctor turned 
 round at the sound of her voice, •' tell him," went on Norn, 
 " that I can see him to-morrow ; that I shall expect him 
 to come." 
 
 " Ye'll scarcely be weel enough ♦^o-morrow, Miss Stew- 
 art, if ye'U excuse me, to go through any further excite- 
 ment," 
 
 "Oh! but you don't know how much happier I shall 
 feci, doctor ; and, you know, we must just get into the 
 way of seeing each other, and meeting like friends as we 
 used to do — and we must forget the rest." 
 
 The doctor made a sort of groan in reply to this propo- 
 sition. 
 
 " We can't help this great misfortune thp.t has come to 
 us, and so we must try to make the best of it, and help 
 each other to bear it." 
 
 Still the doctor did not speak. He knew Biddulph 
 mc.nt to leave Nora, and he knew that he was right to do 
 tills ; but it seemed hard to take the poor girl's one con- 
 solation away from her. 
 
 ■-"'*■ 
 
 1 
 
/t !iTRAiWGE At ESS AG/:. 
 
 "5 
 
 nic 
 
 (() 
 
 ing sc 
 
 'ir- 
 
 *ind ris. 
 jresent ;" 
 liberty to 
 |nietiiiij,r 
 
 Y fellow 
 pe same, 
 as the 
 plight as 
 e thrust 
 Ismitiijg 
 
 iddiilph 
 
 Won id 
 
 nn of a 
 
 turned 
 
 > vvhiio 
 
 seemed 
 
 n them 
 
 Woman 
 ce. 
 
 turned 
 > Norn, 
 -t him 
 
 Stew- 
 xcite- 
 
 shall 
 ^ the 
 IS vvc 
 
 opo- 
 
 e to 
 fieJp 
 
 Iph 
 • do 
 on- 
 
 " I like his aunt, Lady Barbara, so much," continued 
 Nora, " and she has been so good to me. When we go to 
 town, of course, I shall often see her." 
 
 "She's a tough shell wl* a good kernel," said the doctor, 
 "though I own I'm a wee bit in awe of her leedyship." 
 
 " Oh, she's very good ; and, doctor, I want to ask you 
 something else. This — this woman " 
 
 '• Ve mean " 
 
 "Th3 woman James was tricked into marrying when he 
 was but 'a boy," f.aid Nora, more firmly. "Is she gone 
 yet ? Has he see\i her again ?" 
 
 " He'll see her na mair; but he sent me to see her, and 
 siic's wrangling sare about the money." 
 
 •' She's a wicked woman ! But I hope she will go away; 
 I should breathe easier if she were away. She might do 
 some harm to James." 
 
 "Not she, my dear young leedy ; it's na for luve o' Mr. 
 Biddulph she's put up an appearance, I can tell ye. She 
 wants money and nothing else." 
 
 " Oh, tell him to give it to her, doctor, and get her 
 away! If she wants more than he has in the bank, I can 
 lend him or give him a good sum. He will be ever so 
 much happier if she were out of this place." 
 
 "She won't be here lang. \7eel, Miss Stewart, I'll ha' 
 gude news for Mr. Biddulph to-night ; ye're better than I 
 hoped to find ye." 
 
 "Yes; and tell him to come to-morrow," said Nora, as 
 tlie doctor shook hands with her before taking his leave. 
 And scarcely was he gone when the poor girl locked the 
 door, and fell down on her knees, holding James Bid- 
 dulph's letter still in her clasped hands. 
 
 The first shock was over now, the first bitterness, and, 
 true to the sweet womanliness of her nature, Nora deter- 
 mined to make the best of a most painful position for his 
 sake. She would be his best friend and comforter, she told 
 herself ; and in the long years to come their regard would 
 know no change. They might never marry, but the bond 
 between them could not die. 
 
 She was thinking this, kneeling there still, when a little 
 knock came to the locked door, and, supposing it was Lady 
 Barbara, Nora rose from her knees and unfastened the door, 
 and outside Mrs. Conway-Hope was standing, who sprang 
 forward and at once caught Nora in her arms, and crushed 
 her forcibly against her angular form. 
 
 " My poor stricken child ! " she gasped out. " Oh, 
 
 15 
 
 I. 1 
 
 r \ 
 
226 
 
 A STRAI^GE MESSAGE. 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 1 ■ 
 
 
 
 
 ' ; 
 
 
 
 ■ AA Jl mill 1 
 
 
 Nora, what I have gone through this day — what misery, 
 what terrible distress, thinking of you, feeling that you had 
 no support " 
 
 Nora drew back, and endeavored to release herself 
 from Mrs. Conway-Hope's arms, but it was not easy to 
 do so. 
 
 " I have been forbidden to enter your room," continued 
 that lady ; " told I should no^ do so by Lady Barbara Bid- 
 dulph ! And I think, considering who s/ie is — her connec- 
 tion with the unhappy man who has brought all this misery 
 and shame on a respectable family — that /ler lips, at least, 
 ought to have been closed ; that she ought not have inter- 
 fered to part you and me ! " 
 
 " I did not wish to see any one. Lady Barbara has been 
 most kind to me," said Nora. 
 
 " I can understand you not wishing to see any stranger, 
 Nora ; it is but natural that you should shrink from all the 
 painful remarks that must necessarily follow the terrible 
 occurrence of to-day. But am I a stranger ? Why was I, 
 your near relation and friend, not permitted to mingle my 
 bitter tears with yours ?" 
 
 " Please do not talk any more about it, Cousin Margaret. 
 It cannot be helped ; we must just try to make the best of 
 it." 
 
 " It is terrible, too terrible ! " cried Mrs. Conway-Hope, 
 w^h a dismal shake of her head. 
 
 " It is most painful, of course, but what is the good of 
 talking of it ? I mean to try to bear it as bravely as I 
 can." 
 
 " I pray you may be able to do so ; we must try to be re- 
 signed at least. And, my dear Nora, I hope you wi^l soon 
 get Lady Barbara Biddulph out of th<j house." 
 
 "Oh, do you?" said Lady Bab'i voice, who at this 
 moment entered the room, and had heard the concluding 
 words of Mrs. Conway-Hope's speech. 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope started and looked up, and there 
 stood Lady Bab, erect and grim ; and Mrs. Conway-Hope's 
 eyes fell somewhat abashed. 
 
 " I did not expect," she said, " that anyone was listening 
 to my private ^nversation with my cousin." 
 
 " And I did not expect to find you in this room, when 
 you were positively forbidden by the doctor to enter it, 
 and I told you so," retorted Lady Bab, who disdained to 
 defend herself from the accusation of intentionally listen- 
 ing, of which she was certainly guiltless. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 ^hat misery 
 f hat you had 
 
 ;ase herself 
 [not easy to 
 
 r continued 
 parbara Bid- 
 |ner connec- 
 this misery 
 [ps, at Jeast, 
 Uiave inter. 
 
 J"a has been 
 
 "^y stranger^ 
 "rom all the 
 he terrible 
 ^hy was J, 
 "lingle my 
 
 Margaret, 
 •he best of 
 
 vay-Hope, 
 
 - good of 
 "-^'Q^Y as f 
 
 '' to be re- 
 will soon 
 
 > at this 
 ncluding 
 
 nd there 
 r-Hope's 
 
 listefiing 
 
 >, when 
 
 mter it, 
 
 ined to 
 
 listen- 
 
 227 
 
 "Nora, is this true ?" asked Mrs. Con way-Hope, tragic- 
 ally. " Did Dr. Alexander forbid me to enter your room ? " 
 ** He forbade any one to do so but Lady Barbara, and 
 Palmer, of course," answered Nora. 
 
 '' Lady Barbara ! '' repeated Mrs. Conway-Hope,. with 
 stinging emphasis. "May I ask if this exception was 
 made on account of her relationship to the gentleman 
 whose unfortunate mistake has caused all this misery ? " 
 
 " Do go out of the room, and hold your tongue, you 
 tiresome old woman ! " cried Lady Bab, whose patience 
 was completely worn out. 
 
 " Old woman, indeed ! " said Mrs. Conway-Hope, with 
 extraordinary bitterness. " I beg to inform you. Lady Bar- 
 bara Biddulph, that I am not old, and I am accustomed to 
 be called a lady, by ladies.'^ 
 
 " Oh, are you ? " scoffed Lady Bab. " Please go out of 
 the room, then, you tiresome old lady." 
 
 " I assure you I am very much younger than yourself, 
 for the matter of that." 
 
 *' That may be," answered Lady Bab, grimly, ** for I am 
 quite an old woman, and not ashamed to be called one. 
 However, that is no matter, and I'll call you anything you 
 like — a young lady even — to get you to go away." 
 
 " I shall not leave this room," said Mrs. Conway-Hope, 
 determinately, " until requested to do so by Miss Nora 
 Stewart. Nora," she added, " is it your wish that I shall 
 be ordered out of your room by this stranger ?" 
 
 " Yes, Cousin Margaret ; I wish you to go," replied Nora 
 to this appeal. 
 
 " Then I shall ! " cried Mrs. Conway-Hope, in dramatic 
 accents, as if announcing a catastrophe ; and she slowly 
 retreated, closing the door behind her with a loud and por- 
 tentous bang. 
 
 " Well, I have seen many disagreeable people," said 
 Lady Bab, turning to Nora after she had disappeared, 
 " but I can honestly say none of them equalled that lady." 
 " She is very trying." 
 
 "She would not try me long under my own roof, at any 
 rate. Well, my dear, you arc looking better; that old 
 Scotch doctor of yours always seems to cheer you up." 
 " I am very fond of him," answered Nora, softly. 
 "The old Scotch doctor," in the meanwhile, had 
 returned home, and had scarcely arrived there, when "Mr. 
 Biddulph " was announced. 
 He looked as worn and haggard as he had done in the 
 
 
 'P^-i fS, 
 
22$ 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE^ 
 
 f\ 
 
 morning ; and the doctor, after glancing at him, began to 
 speculate philosophically why the weak woman bore the 
 blow better than the strong man. 
 
 " How is she ? " asked Biddulph, without preface. 
 
 "As weel, and better, than we could have hoped for. 
 Eh, mon, she's gat a brave, true heart," answered the 
 doctor. 
 
 "And you told her," said Biddulph, with faltering 
 tongue, and turning away his head, "what I wrote about 
 her ring ? " 
 
 The doctor nodded his head solemnly thrice. 
 
 "I doot that I've done right," he said, a moment later. 
 
 ** How do you mean ? " asked Biddulph, sharply. 
 
 " I gave yer bit of note into her own hand, and we had 
 a long talk. She wants to see ye to-morrow." 
 
 " To-morrow ? " echoed Biddulph. 
 
 " That was what she said ; and there's something else, 
 I've to say. She's maist anxious that the oiher, ye ken, 
 was away." 
 
 A sudden scarlet flush rose to Biddulph's pale face. 
 
 "Well, is she not gone ?" he asked, impatiently. 
 
 " Na, nor likely to go, unless ye pay her weel. In fact, 
 Mr. Biddulph, I may as weel tell ye that she won't move 
 from this wi'out an honorarium, and for Miss Nora 
 Stewart's sake " 
 
 " I swore I would give her nothing ! " said Biddulph,, 
 starting to his feet. 
 
 " Weel, one often swears what one can't stick to, and, as 
 I was saying, for Miss Nora Stewart's sake I would pay 
 her, and get her away." 
 
 " Only to return," said Biddulph, bitterly. 
 
 " But maybe ye won't be here when she does," answered 
 the doctor. " Take my advice, mon — gi' her a thousand 
 or so, and let us ha' her out o' the place before nightfall." 
 
 "What do you think she could do?" said Biddulph, 
 who was acute, and saw the usually saving Scotchman had 
 a motive for urging to got the woman away. 
 
 " She might annoy Miss Nora Stewart, for one thing ; 
 she's an ill tongue, and she's best out o' hearing." 
 
 Biddulph considered for a moment or two, and then he 
 said slowly : 
 
 " Well, if I go home now, and draw a check for a 
 thousand pounds and send it across to you, do you think 
 you can get her to go away to-night ? " 
 
 "I think sa/' 
 
 " I wil 
 her to-m 
 
 c 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 229 
 
 began to 
 bore the 
 
 face. 
 
 loped for. 
 'ered the 
 
 fait 
 [ote aboul 
 
 en no- 
 
 nt later. 
 id we had 
 
 hing elsft 
 , ye ken, 
 
 face. 
 
 In fact, 
 >n't move 
 iss Nora 
 
 Jiddulph,, 
 
 3, and, as 
 3uld pay 
 
 nsvvered 
 housand 
 ghtfall." 
 iddulph, 
 iian had 
 
 thing; 
 
 :hen lie 
 
 I for a 
 1 think 
 
 " I will do so, then. And tell Miss Stewart I cannot see 
 her to-morrow, for there is much to do ; but the day after 
 I will call — to say good-by;" and Biddulph's voice 
 faltered and broke, as he uttered the last word. 
 
 " Then, ye mean to go ? " 
 
 "How could I stay?" answered Biddulph, gloomily; 
 and with bent head and with no word of ordinary saluta- 
 tion^ he quitted the doctor's house and returned straight 
 to Dunbaan. 
 
 An hour later, a note arrived from him containing the 
 promised check of a thousand pounds, drawn in favor 
 of Madame de Beranger, and with this in his pocket the 
 doctor at once proceeded to the little inn where she was 
 staying. 
 
 He asked to see her, and was ushered into the small sit- 
 ting-room which she occupied, and found her lying on an 
 uncomfortable little sofa, with a black scarf wrapped round 
 her head. 
 
 But as the doctor entered, she started eagerly up. 
 
 " Well, have you brought me some money ? " she asked 
 quickly and anxiously. 
 
 ** I have, ma'am ; but ye can only ha' it on certain con- 
 ditions," ansv/ered the doctor, gravely. 
 
 " What are these ? Quick, do not keep me in suspense ! " 
 
 " I had a deal o' trouble to get it. Mr. Biddulph said 
 ye had done yer warst, and refused to part wi' another 
 bawbee ; but at last I induced him to gi' me a check for 
 one thousand pounds, on the condition ye leave here to- 
 night." 
 
 "Very well, I will. Give me the check ; a thousand is 
 better than nothing ;" and she held out her hand. 
 
 But the doctor made no movement to produce it. 
 
 "That was Mr. Biddulph's condition, ma'am," he said,, 
 still more gravelv ; '* but I've one to add on my own hand." 
 
 "What on earth have you to do with it? Do not be 
 tiresome, and give me the money. Oh, I expect you want 
 your share," she added, with a laugh. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am, ye've just hit it," answered the doctor, 
 solemnly, regarding her with his small shrewd eyes. 
 
 "Well, how much?" asked the woman, with another 
 laugh. " I said if you got me five tliousand pounds, you 
 should have one hundred and fifty ; but as you've only 
 got me a thousand, will fifty do, for I am awfully hard up ?" 
 
 " Ma'am, I do not want to be paid for my sma* service 
 in gold or notes. What I ask ye is tf promise not further 
 
 "1' 
 
 t&J! . 
 
230 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 d! 
 
 to disturb the peace o' Miss Nora Stewart, or to make Mr. 
 Biddulph's life a greater curse to him than ye have alreudy 
 done." 
 
 "You mean " And the woman's dark eyes fell 
 
 abashed. 
 
 " I mean, as we are all puir weak, erring creatures, prone 
 to fall, and easily tempted fra' the straight path, don't for 
 the sake o* lucre lead him to doot again that ye are his 
 wife ; don't bribe him wi' false words." 
 
 The woman hesitated for a moment ; then she said, with 
 some little feeling in her voice : 
 
 " I suppose yon are what they call a good man ?" 
 
 But the doctor shook his head. 
 
 " Na, na," he said, " I'm not gude ; but Miss Nora Stew- 
 art is, and for her sake " 
 
 ** I declare, I believe you are in love with her yourself," 
 said the woman, more lightly. "Very well, than, for Miss 
 Nora Stewart's sake, I won't tell James Biddulph any lies." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 
 1* 
 
 i' 
 it.-. 
 
 FOR THE LAST TIME. 
 
 Two days later, about five in the afternoon, Nora was 
 sitting waiting alone in her drawing-room for a visitor, 
 whom she ardently longed, yet half dreaded, to see. 
 
 This was Biddulph. But she little guessed, as she sat 
 there with flushed cheeks and beating heart, that this 
 meeting, during which she meant to re-establish the old 
 friendly feeling between them, was intended by him to be 
 a parting one ; the last before he left Scotland never to 
 return. 
 
 He had made all his arrangements to do so ; discharged 
 his servants, and meant to shut up the house at Dunbaan. 
 He had told his friend the doctor this, but made him pro- 
 mise not to tell Nora of his intentions. 
 
 " I should break down," he said. " It would but unman 
 me, if she asked me 4:o stay; and I must go — I have not 
 strength for more." 
 
 And it seemed to him as he neared Rossmore, where 
 Nora was waiting for hirn, as if he scarce had strength even 
 for this last meeting. He was pale and deeply moved as 
 he went into her drawing-room, and when Nora's eyes fell 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 83' 
 
 I make Mr. 
 ^e already 
 
 eyes fell 
 
 |res, prone 
 don't for 
 fe are his 
 
 [said, with 
 
 ora Stew- 
 
 yourself," 
 , for Miss 
 any lies." 
 
 '^ora was 
 I visitor, 
 e. 
 
 1 she sat 
 that this 
 the old 
 m to be 
 never to 
 
 charged 
 unbaan. 
 im pro- 
 unman 
 ave not 
 
 , where 
 th even 
 >ved as 
 YQS fell 
 
 Oil lis b^tggard face, she saw that in truth "the iron had 
 enterea into his soul;" that the man's heart was still 
 darkened with the shadow of a great despair. 
 
 "■ James ! " she said, with wonderful softness and tender- 
 ness in her voice, starting up and holding out both her 
 hands. 
 
 He took them for a moment, and then released them. 
 And he spoke no word ; it seemed to him that words were 
 poor indeed to express the intense emotion that over- 
 whelmed him. 
 
 "Don't look like that!" prayed Nora, again clasping 
 his cold hand. " I thought it all over, James. We must 
 just be great friends like we used to be, before all this 
 happened ; and — and we must try to help each other." 
 "I should be a po r help, Nora." 
 
 "We are not to blame, you know," went on Nora, 
 eagerly; "it has been terrible pain to us both, but we 
 must try to forget all that. James, I am gclng to try to 
 be brave, and you must try too." 
 "All bravery is gone out of me." 
 
 " You must not say that. We have got lots of things to 
 live for, you know, though — we cannot marry. I have 
 been thinking of what we can do to help the poor people ; 
 I have thought of establishing a free school, James, for the 
 children." 
 
 " My dear, my dear, I could not do it ! " His voice 
 broke into a sort of wail, and he sank down on a chair 
 and covered his face with his hands. 
 
 i "Oh, please, do not distress me thus!" said Nora, 
 piteously. 
 
 "It is selfish, I know," answered Biddulph, raising his 
 
 head; "but this has quite broken me down, Nora. 1 — I 
 
 have come to-day to say good-by." 
 
 "Good-by ! " she repeated ; and she grew a little pale. 
 
 " For a time, at least ; I shall get stronger by and by. 
 
 Just now I am better away." 
 
 Nora did not speak ; a chill pang of disappointment and 
 pain darted through her heart. 
 
 " I mean to leave here to-night ; to go up to town." 
 "Oh, James!" 
 
 It was the first reproach she had uttered through all 
 this pain. But to leave her to bear it alone ! It seemed 
 to Nora at this moment that this was thoughtless of Bid- 
 dulph, and she drew a little back as if his words had 
 pained her. 
 
 WW 
 
232 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 "My aunt is still with you, is she not?" he saidj 
 abruptly, the next instant. 
 
 "Yes ; she has been very good to me." 
 
 "And Mrs. Conway-Hope, is she here too?" 
 
 "Oh, no," answered Nora, with a little smile. "Shel 
 and Lady Barbara do not agree ; and I am thankful to say 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope left yesterday." 
 
 "And you, Nora? Are you not going to leave here, 
 too ? " 
 
 " I have scarcely thought of it yet ; at least, I have not| 
 decided when I shall go." 
 
 "I should be pleased to think that my aunt remained] 
 with you until you go south." 
 
 "I shall be very pleased if she will." 
 
 I'here was just a little touch of pride in Nora's voice as 
 she said the last few words ; and Biddulph, looking at her 
 with his gloomy eyes, recognized this. 
 
 " Nora," he said, going up to her, and speaking in a 
 voice broken with emotion, " I seem strange and changed 
 to you, do I not ? But — but, I dare not talk to you as I 
 would ; I dare not tell you what I feel ! " 
 
 Nora did not speak, but great pity for him again filled 
 her heart. 
 
 " I suppose I loved you too much," went on Biddulph, 
 impetuously. " Do you renipmber my telling you I could 
 not live my life if I w^ere parted from you now ? This is 
 what I feel, and I must leave you." 
 
 "You will feel differently by and by," said Nora, gently. 
 
 " In how many long years, I wonder ? But I have not 
 thanked you yet for the ring you sent me. I shall always 
 wear it, Nora." 
 
 "Very well," she answered ; and she smiled. 
 
 "And there is something else I want. Will you give 
 me one of these little curls ? " and he touched her dark 
 shining hair as he spoke. 
 
 " Yes, of course ; but I shall see you in town, even if 
 you do leave here to-night." 
 
 "Still, I want the piece of hair to carry away with me. 
 Will you give it to me now, Nora ? " 
 
 "Yes ;" and she went up to the mirror over the mantel- 
 piece, and cut off one of the little curls he coveted. 
 
 "There !" she said, handing it to him with a smile. 
 
 " And there is something else." 
 
 "What else?" 
 
 "May I kiss you before I go ?" ^^ '' 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 «33 
 
 Nora blushed deeply. 
 
 "We must forget all that, you know," she said, not 
 raising her dark eyes to his. 
 
 ''Yes; but for the last time, Nora— for the last time, 
 may I kiss you now ? " 
 
 She looked up one moment, and he took her in his 
 arms. ' 
 
 "Good-by, my darling, my darling," he murmured, 
 with his lips on hers^" Good-by ; God keep you ; " and 
 the next moment he was gone. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 LADY BAB S SUGGESTION. 
 
 you give 
 lier dark 
 
 , even if 
 
 ivith me. 
 
 mantel- 
 1 
 lile. 
 
 Lady Bab had a word to say to her nephew, and she was 
 waiting downstairs in tiie dining-room somewhat impa- 
 tiently to say it. When, therefore, she heard him hasti- 
 ly descending the staircase after parting with Nora, she 
 opened the room door, and beckoned him to come to her. 
 
 But when she saw his face she half-repented that she 
 had done this. There was written on it such bitter, bitter 
 pain, such utter despair, that she drew a little back ; but 
 Biddulph followed her into the room and closed the door 
 behind him. 
 
 " I wanted to have a little talk with you," began Lady 
 Barbara. " So you've seen the poor girl upstairs, have 
 you ? " 
 
 " I have seen her to say good-by," answered Biddulph, 
 gloomily. 
 
 "Then you are going away ? That is right ; it is about 
 this I wished to see you. When do you go ? " 
 
 '* To-night." 
 
 Lady Barbara nodded her head approvingly twice 
 
 ** Does she Know ? " she asked. 
 
 " Not that it is the parting that I mean it to be. Aunt 
 Barbara, will you be kind to her — when — when she knows 
 that she and I must meet no more ? " 
 
 " Of course I shall be kind to her ! It's a bad business, 
 ames. 
 
 " Why speak of it ? " he answered, darkly. " To me it 
 is worse than death — a living death." 
 
 " And it is such an extraordinary thing," said Lady Bab, 
 
 3TT. '■»■ ■■•'i''.?.t;:'j,;2^„v."-.. 
 
234 
 
 A STK iNGE MESSAGE. 
 
 'i 
 
 
 beginning to walk up and down the room in her energetic 
 way. *' 1 suppose — I scarcely like to say this — but I sup. 
 pose you have no doubt in your own mind, James, that the 
 sister is living wiiom you married twelve years ago ? " 
 
 Biddulpli lifted his eyes in surprise to his aunt's face. 
 
 '' I have no doubt," he said. 
 
 ** Still, that old doctor of yours said that there was no 
 visible difference between them but the difference of life 
 and death. And to women of their stamp lies count for 
 nothing, you know." 
 
 Biddulph did not speak for a moment ; then he said 
 slowly : 
 
 " Aunt Barbara, she said a few words to me that only 
 she could know — ^there is no doubt." 
 
 " That settles the matter, of course, then ; and you are 
 right tu go away. The poor girl upstairs has an idea that 
 you could go on seeing each other — that you are to be 
 great friends ; but all that is nonsense, though I do not 
 tell her so. She is a fine character, and I can't help being 
 very sorry for you, James, though of course " 
 
 "Please do not discuss my folly. Aunt Barbara ; I have 
 paid a very bitter price for it. And — and let me think," 
 and he hesitated a moment, " that when I am far away 
 she will have a constant friend in you ?" 
 
 Lady Bab did not speak for an instant, for she was a 
 woman who made few professions ; then she said, still with 
 her eyes (in which there was some pity) fixed on her 
 nephew's face : 
 
 " I shall do what I can, James ; but time will be her best 
 friend." 
 
 "Yes ;" and then he put his cold hand into his aunt's 
 and left her, and Lady Bab looked after him with an 
 impatient sigh. 
 
 ''There's good in him," she thought, "but he's made a 
 poor use of it, and of the gifts that God gave him ; and 
 the worst of it is that the bitter fruits of his folly fall on 
 the poor girl. Well, I had best go and look after her, I 
 suppose." 
 
 But when Lady Barbara ascended the staircase and 
 entered the drawing-room, where she expected to find 
 Nora, she was not there. She had gone to her own room, 
 and locked the door, and was kneeling by the bed, praying 
 with clasped hands for the man with whom she had just 
 parted. In the bitterest hour this still is left to us ; 
 though the black clouds gather, and the storm breaks over 
 
 And w 
 was ver; 
 some sig 
 Lady Bn 
 all; anc 
 room, ^ 
 leave Sc 
 "If yc 
 I should 
 "Min 
 of my a^ 
 climate 
 London 
 more us 
 please." 
 "I sh 
 thinking 
 months 
 "An ' 
 and wo 
 And I 
 you, an 
 Lady B 
 "Oh, 
 old no 
 Minnie 
 "I V 
 hope, 1 
 Margai 
 I shall 
 self, th 
 by girl 
 "W 
 often 5 
 "Th 
 "I 
 write 
 me an 
 stay V 
 "W 
 
 •~»tm 
 
 riiik 
 
A STRAXGE MESSAGE, 
 
 a 35 
 
 our stricken heads, all is not darkness, if we but find 
 strength to lift our eyes beyond the blinding mists tliat 
 surround our mortal ken. 
 
 And when Nora met Lady Barbara at dinner, her face 
 was very calm. " Lady Barbara had been prepared for 
 some signs of grief or emotion, but Nora showed none. 
 Lady Bab i.oticed her voice was very low, but tliis was 
 all ; and when they returned together to the drawing- 
 room, Nora at once quietly proposed that they should 
 leave Scotland. 
 
 "If you do not mind, Lady Barbara," she said, " I think 
 I should like to go south now." 
 
 "Mind, my dear ! How can you suppose that a woman 
 of my age can have any pleasure in s' ving on in such a 
 climate as this in mid-winter? N that the climate of 
 London is not detestable in winter also ; but, still, I am 
 more used to it. Of course we can go whenever you 
 please." 
 
 " I should like to go at once, then ; and I've been 
 thinking I should like to ask Minnie Frascr to spend some 
 months with me, as soon as I settle in town." 
 
 "An excellent idea. She is pretty, that little Minnie, 
 and won't, therefore, be a dead weight on your hands. 
 And I suppose you'll want an old woman to look after 
 you, and take you out into society cjccasionall'"' ? " added 
 Lady Bab, somewhat grimly. 
 
 "Oh, dear, no," answered Nora, smiling. " I feel quite 
 old now, and shall make an excellent chapcrone for 
 Minnie." 
 
 "I was going to say," continued Lady Bab, "that I 
 hope, for goodness' sake, you won't invite that Cousin 
 Margaret of yours also. Rather than you should do this, 
 I shall take you out, whenever propriety demands it, my- 
 self, though I own, as a rule, I do not care to be bothered 
 by girls." 
 
 " We shall be no bother to you, though I hope we shall 
 often see you. Lady Barbara," said Nora, smiling still. 
 "That is all right, then. When do you propose to go?" 
 " I thought of the day after to-morrow ; and I shall 
 write and ask my cousin Jock Frascr to come over to see 
 me and bring Minnie, and ask Mrs. Jock's leave for her to 
 stay with me in town." 
 
 <' Why riot ask her to go with you now ? " 
 
 . .■->» -,-u^.-v..',;-rf-^^^_'r:a.M; .i-.f: 
 
236 
 
 A STRANGE Af ESS AGE, 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 
 
 ii 
 
 L.L 
 
 " She might require some litllc preparation, you know," 
 hesitated Nora. 
 
 " Slie could get dress and everything she wants much 
 cheaper in London than anywhere else. I propose, my 
 dear, that we take her with us. It will be brighter for 
 you to have this young girl with you from the first." 
 
 And after thinking a moment or two, Nora decided that 
 this was very good advice. She therefore, before the 
 evening was over, wrote to Mrs. Jock Fraser, to ask if 
 Minnie might be allowed to go 10 town with Lady Bab 
 and herself, to pay a long visit. 
 
 " Lady Barbara has promised to act chaperone when- 
 ever we shall require one" (she added), "so I do hope 
 Minnie will come to me. Will you, Jock, and Minnie, 
 have lunch with us here to-morrow, and then we can de- 
 cide all our plans, as we propose starting very soon ? 
 
 *' Yours affectionately, 
 
 " Leonora Stewart. " 
 
 Nora sent this note over to Airdlinn, and told the bearer 
 to wait for an answer. Alick Fraser had been dining with 
 his brother and sister-in-law, and Mrs. Jock and the two 
 brothers were still sitting at the table when it was brought 
 in, though pretty Minnie had retired. 
 
 Mrs. Jock read it, and then looked at her husband. 
 
 *• It is from Nora Svewart," she said, ** and she wishes 
 Minnie to go to London with her and Lady Barbara Bid- 
 dulph, the end of this week, and she asks Minnie for a 
 lonp- visit." 
 
 A flush came over Alick Fraser's clear, fresh face as he 
 listened to these words, and a look of pleasure into his 
 brown eyes. 
 
 " It's a very good idea, I think," he said at once, in his 
 decided way. 
 
 " I think Minnie would like to go, and perhaps her 
 company would help to cheer Nora," said Mrs. Jock. 
 
 " Miss Nora won't need cheering long, Jeanie," remarked 
 Alick, " or I shall be much mistaken. D'ye know that 
 Biddulph is going to shut up Dunbaan and leave the 
 country to-night — and a good riddance too 1 " 
 
 "I heard he was going," said Jock, quietly. 
 
 "Let Minnie go, by all means," continued' Alick. "And 
 as the child will want some fads and finery, I suppose, 
 Jeanie, I'll give you a check for fifty pounds to smarten 
 
A STRAiVGE Af ESS AGE, 
 
 *3; 
 
 her up a bit, though, for that matter, she's a pretty face of 
 her own and doesn't want much dress." 
 
 ♦*You are really very kind, Alick," said Mrs. Jock, 
 gratefully. 
 
 " Don't mention it, my dear. So you had Glendoyne 
 calling here yesterday, Jock said ?" 
 
 "Yes, Minnie saw him; but I didn't," answered Mrs. 
 Jock, with a sigh. 
 
 "Humph ! Well, settle about her going to town with 
 Miss Nora to-morrow. I am glad Nora Stewart is showing 
 such good sense, and not making a fool of herself, as some 
 girls would have done ; though such a disgusting piece of 
 business was certainly enough to sicken any woman." 
 
 " It's a terrible business," said Mrs. Jock, with a little 
 shiver. 
 
 " I'm told," went on Alick, " that old Alexander, though 
 he's very close about it, managed to get Biddulph's wife 
 away, and pai^ her a heavy sum to go. Biddulpli himself 
 would not see her, so he sent Alexander. However, the 
 country-side's rid of him at last, for I don't think Mr. Bid- 
 dulpli will dare to show his fac ^ here again in a hurry." 
 
 Alick Fraser could not, indeed, conceal his elation at the 
 terrible humiliation which had befallen the man who had 
 crossed his own plans in life. He had listened to all the 
 gossip he could hear on the subject with unfeigned pleasure 
 and satisfaction. He had even sent for the doctor, for 
 some fancied ailment or other, but found "old Alexander," 
 as he called him, very reticent. 
 
 " It's an unco' bad business, Mr. Alick ; and least said is 
 soonest mended, when there's na gude to tell," was all he 
 could draw from the doctor's lips. 
 
 " Well, Miss Nora Stewart is well rid of him," Alick had 
 said, triumphantly. 
 
 " It's hard to lell," replied the doctor ; and then he 
 changed his subject, and Alick felt that he could not very 
 well pursue it under the circu nstances. 
 
 And this invitation to Minnie now caused him fresh sat- 
 isfaction. He would hear how Nora was going on, 
 through his brother's wife, when she was absent, and he 
 would run up to town occasionally to see the "girls," he 
 mentallv decided, as he crossed the loch from Airdlinn 
 and returned to his stately home. 
 
 When he entered tiie room where he usually sat, he 
 found a packet lying on the table, addressed to himself, 
 and a note in Nora Stewart's handwriting. He hastily 
 
 SPf j» 
 
 ' '. 
 
 
 
 ■•im . r^-A.»w«r:4"Ji; 
 
^38 
 
 A ^TRAMGR MriSSACE. 
 
 (^ 
 
 I 
 
 -Jtauir), 
 
 opened the note, and read the following lines, with no 
 little excitement : 
 
 "Dear Mr. Fraser : I return, by the boarcr of this 
 note, the magnificent marriage present wLi..ii you so 
 kindly and generously gave nic, as my marriage is un- 
 avoidably broken off. With kind regards, 
 ** I remain, yours very sincerely, 
 
 "Leonora Stewart." 
 
 Alick Fraser read these words again and again, and 
 then he smiled, and proceeded to open the packet and 
 look once more at his sapphire necklace. 
 
 It was really a splendid gift, and he felt proud of him- 
 self for having made it. Then he fastened it up again, 
 and redirected it to Miss Nora Stewart, at Rossmore, and 
 sat down to indite a letter to her, which Nora found 
 awaiting her (and the necklace) when she went downstairs 
 on the following morning. 
 
 "Dear Miss Nora" (she read in Alick's clear hand- 
 writing), 
 
 " Please honor me by accepting a gift which was given 
 as a small token of my regard for you and admiration for 
 your character, which no circumstances can change. I was 
 at Airdlinn last night when your kind invitation for Min- 
 nie arrived, which she was delighted to accept. If you are 
 not ashamed to be seen with 'a country cousin,' I shall 
 run up to town sometimes, when she is with you, and 
 escort you young ladies to the theatres, or any other 
 places of amusement you wish to go to ; and, with kind 
 regards, 
 
 " I remain, very sincerely yours, 
 
 "Alick Fraser." 
 
 Nora thought it was kind of Alick Fraser to send the 
 necklace back, and stood looking at the shining stones for 
 a few moments, and then sighed deeply. She was recall- 
 ing the day they were first given to her, and Biddulph's 
 face as he had stood by her side and admired the gorgeous 
 gems. How happy she had been ! But 'tis a brief pos- 
 session to most of us, drifting down the stream of life, the 
 rocks and shoals of which we cannot see ahead, this per- 
 fect joy. Nora's had been but short-lived, but, while it 
 lasted, all the coming shadows were hidden from her 
 view. 
 
A Sl'J^AXGK Ml'lSSAGE. 
 
 239 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 A HAUNTING D O U D r . 
 
 Jock Frascr, his wife, and Minnie, all lunched the same 
 day with Nora at Rossmore. Minnie had been delighted 
 to receive the invitation to go to town with Nura, and her 
 fond father and mother were pleased witii her pleasure. 
 She indeed lookcvi a different girl, so much brighter and 
 happier than she had done of late, when she entered Nora's 
 drawing-room and kissed Nora, whispering, " Thank you 
 so much," as she did so. 
 
 They all met with just a little embarrassment, neither 
 Jock nor his wife having seen Nora since the tragical end- 
 ing of her engagement. But Lady Barbara could talk 
 well when it pleased her to do so, and she entered into an 
 animated conversation now with Jock Fraser, regarding 
 some ancient highland customs, and soon the whole party 
 felt more at ease. Ther., when lunch was over, Mrs. Jock 
 slid her hand througb Nora's arm, and indicated to her 
 that she had a few words to say she wished to speak in 
 private. 
 
 Nora led her to her own room upstairs, and when they 
 got there Mrs. Jock turned round and tenderly kissed her 
 cheek. 
 
 " Thank you, dear, so much," she said, "for asking Min- 
 nie. 
 
 " But it will be a great pleasure to me to have her," an- 
 swered Nora, with some emotion, for she knew Mrs. Jock 
 must naturally be thinking of other things tlian Minnie's 
 visit. 
 
 "And there is something I want to say, Nora, about my 
 boy," continued Mrs. Jock, clasping Nora's hand, while 
 tears rushed into her blue eyes. " Day and night I think 
 of him, you know," she went on ; "and I want you to send 
 him this twenty pounds, dear, that I have saved out of the 
 housekeeping. Don't tell Uncle Alick this, though Alick 
 has been very kind lately— since our great grief— but this 
 is just a little present from his mother." 
 
 "Very well, dear Jeanie," said Nora, whose eyes also 
 grew a little dim. In truth, it was impossible for any one 
 whose heart was not cold to look unmoved now at the faces 
 of Jock Fraser and his wife. There was always a shadow 
 
^40 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 I 
 
 U 
 
 in Jock's kind eyes, and care and anxiety expressed on 
 every line of Mrs. Fraser's once jovial features. One 
 thought, indeed, was ever present in her mind — her son's 
 danger — and sad days and sleepless nights soon write their 
 story. 
 
 " And I have brought a letter for you to send to him, 
 Nora. I dare not post them here, of course ; but when 
 you get to town I can write often to him, can't I ? I shall 
 send them under cover to you, not Minnie, on account of 
 the name ; and God bless you, my dear, for being kind to 
 him ! " 
 
 *■ Of course I shall do anything for him that I can." 
 
 " And, Nora, I want to say also," said Mrs. Jock, with a 
 little hesitation, " how — how much I have felt for you dur- 
 ing this dreadful " 
 
 '* Please, Jeanie, do not mention it," interrupted Nora, 
 quietly but firmly, though a sudden flush passed over her 
 pale face. " I wish it never to be mentioned to me at all 
 — and will you tell Minnie this — let it be as if it had never 
 been." 
 
 "She is a brave girl," Jock Fraser told hi wife, when 
 Mrs. Jock repeated this conversation to her husband on 
 their way home. 
 
 " And yet I can tell by her face how deeply it has cut 
 into her heart," answered Mrs. Jock. " Alick thinks she 
 will soon get over this ; but she won't." 
 
 " She is behaving splendidly, at all events ; and I like 
 that old dame, and pity Biddulph from the bottom of my 
 heart." 
 
 But Mrs, Jock, with the unreasonableness of a loving 
 woman, could never quite forgive Biddulph, since indi- 
 rectly through him all this misery had fallen on her be- 
 loved son. She had been secretly jealous of, and had 
 grudged him his happiness with Nora, when no shadow 
 seemed to lie between their lives. And now, thoncjh she 
 grieved for Nora's pain, it must be admitted she did not 
 regret her engagement was broken off. . 
 
 " He is a good-looking, clever man," she said to Jock ; 
 " but, to my mind, the whole thing is too absolutely revolt- 
 ing. A man has no right to marry a woman and forsake 
 her, as Mr. Biddulph confessedly did. If he had been a 
 true, or even an ordinary husband, our boy would not have 
 been in exile now." 
 
 " You are a prejudiced woman, Jeanie ! " answered Jock, 
 with a smile ; but the next moment he sighed and turned 
 
 V 
 
 irfaAwiii xiibim..,. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 241 
 
 his head away. He too knew that Biddulph had cost them 
 all very dear ; how dear, the poor laird never talked of, 
 even to his wife. 
 
 In the meantime, the unhappy man whose misfortunes 
 had become so strangely intermixed with those of the fam- 
 ily at Airdlinn, was passing through one of those dark 
 phases of life when we ask ourselves in bitterness. Why 
 were we born ? 
 
 Biddulph could not bow to the rod, nor accept the terri- 
 ble punishment which his own early fault had brought 
 down upon his head. He saw his life blasted, he believed 
 unjustly, and there was anger as well as grief in his heart. 
 And, strange, though he had expressed no doubt at ihe 
 time, that suggestion of Lady Barbara's that there might 
 still be some uncertainty about the identity of his wife 
 recurred again and again to his mind. It came like the 
 whisperings of an evil spirit tempting him. The woman 
 had said a few words in his car that none but Natalie could 
 know, self-argued Biddulph. " But," suggested the mock- 
 ing voice that would not be gainsaid, **to such women 
 nothing .is sacred ; these twin-sisters might have no se- 
 crets." 
 
 He tried to force himself not to entertain this idea, but 
 tried in vain. It came again and again, clothed in differ- 
 ent words, but the essence was the same. It unsettled 
 him, and made him yet more impatient of what he deemed 
 an unjust fate. And he was in this condition of mind 
 when he received a note from his au^it, Lady Barbara, to 
 tell him that Nora Stewart, Minnie Fras^r, and herself, 
 were to arrive in town on an evening she named. 
 
 Lady Barbara had thought it proper to write this, so 
 that Biddulph might leave England before he had any 
 chance of seeing Nora again. But he did not do this. He 
 went to Kings-cross Station at the time when the train 
 from the North was expected to arrive, on the night Lady 
 Barbara had mentioned, and he lingered there until it 
 
 came in. 
 
 And he saw Nora again. Shrinking back in the shadow,, 
 he watched her pale face, which, though wearied looking, 
 had a certain serenity of expression which his now never 
 wore. And he saw her smile, too, and put her arm through 
 Mrnnie Eraser's, while Palmer and Alfred were claiming 
 the luggage, and his aunt was personally inspecting the 
 safety of her own. 
 
 He stood there, looking at the woman nearest to his 
 
 1$ 
 
 m 
 
 mrm^msiM^: 
 
242 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 i^ 
 
 heart, cut off from her by a tie of which there was still a 
 doubt. That familiar spirit of his told him this very dis- 
 tinctly in the busy station, and urged that a man is a fool 
 to throw away his life's happiness on a quibble of honor. 
 He made a step forward. Should he speak to her, feel 
 her little hand in his for one brief moment ? Again Nora 
 smiled, and Biddulph resisted the temptation. 
 
 "Why disturb her peace," he thought half-bitterly ; 
 ** why fill her heart with the burning, unsatisfied questions 
 that are distracting mine ?" 
 
 But later during the same evening, he called on Lady 
 Barbara, who lived in one of the small streets leading out 
 of Park Lane. He found that lady sitting in her little 
 drawing-room, and when his name was announced she 
 looked sharply up, for she was reclining very comfortably 
 in any easy-chair by the fire, with her feet resting on the 
 fender. 
 
 " So you are not gone yet ? " she said, holding out her 
 hand. 
 
 ** Not yet ; but I am on the eve of going," answered 
 Biddulph. 
 
 " Well, we all got safely back to town a couple of hours 
 ago. 
 
 " I know ; I saw you arrive." 
 
 " Ah ! " and Lady Barbara fixed her keen gray eyes on 
 her nephew's face. " James Biddulph," she continued a 
 moment later, "you are better away, do you know ; and 
 you are looking remarkably ill." 
 " Nora does not look very ill ? " 
 
 " No," answered Lady Bab, nodding her head ; " that 
 girl has a wonderful amount of — what shall I call it — 
 faith ? Something that makes the things of this world 
 seem of secondary importance." 
 
 " I wish I had," said Biddulph, darkly. " To me these 
 things become daily more dim — more * unknown and un- 
 knowable.' " 
 
 " Many people feel thus when things go wrong with 
 them." 
 
 ** But why should my life be cursed ?" answered Bid- 
 dulph, with quick passion. "What have I done that 
 everything should be made bitter to me ?" 
 
 " And what have any of us done that our lives should be 
 made quite pleasant to us ? I don't want to preach, but 
 have you deserved this ? " 
 
 Bicidulph made no answer ; he began (an old habit of 
 
 „,=»ps»-' 
 
f.^ 
 
 A SfRANC^ MESSAGE, 
 
 m 
 
 his) to walk slowly up and down the room, and Lady Bar- 
 bara's eyes followed him with some pity* 
 
 " Aunt Barbara," he said presently, ** will you write to 
 me when I am away?" 
 
 "Yes, of course I shall, if you wish me to do so." 
 
 "And tell me how everything goes on ? " 
 
 " You mean everything about Miss Nora Stewart, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 "Yes — tell me if she seems happy — if — I am forgotten." 
 
 "You would not like that, I fancy ?" 
 
 " I would not ; yet, for her sake, I think it would be 
 well." 
 
 "There is one man I am certain means to propose to 
 her." 
 
 " Who is that ? " asked Biddulph, sharply. 
 
 " Mr. Fraser, of Inismore ; a rich man, I am told.*" 
 
 "Alick Fraser — impossible !" said Biddulph, angrily. 
 
 " Quite possible, I assure you. He was at the station to 
 see us off this morning, and as that pretty little niece of 
 his is with Nora Stewart, he will of course make her the 
 excuse to run up to town constantly ; in fact, I heard some- 
 thing of this." 
 
 " If I thought " began Biddulph, and then he paused. 
 
 What right had he, he told himself bitterly, to interfere 
 with Nora's life, or stand between her and any other man ? 
 Not that he believed for one moment that she would 
 marry Alick Fraser, though he had noticed that Alick ad- 
 mired her, and believed the antagonism he had shown to- 
 ward himself had sprung from this cause. 
 
 " Will you see Nora to-morrow ? " presently said Bid- 
 dulph, resuming his slow walk up and down the room. 
 
 " Yes ; we settled I had to go there to lunch to-mo'-i-ow " 
 
 " Then I want you to tell her the reason I am leaving 
 England is that I have not strength to stay— will you tell 
 her this to-morrow after I am gone ? " 
 
 "And are you really going to-morrow? Does your 
 father know this ? " 
 
 " Yes, I dined with him yesterday ; he thinks I am on 
 my way to Liverpool now, which I shall be in a few hours, 
 and there I shall start for New York." 
 
 "Well, T think you are wise, James." 
 
 He did not speak for a moment, and then he held out 
 his hand. 
 
 " Good-by, then. Aunt Barbara ; I shall write to you 
 when I reach New York." 
 
 .1 yi 
 
 k l\ 
 
 Si' 
 
 ,: . '> 
 
 %' 
 
 
 %■ 
 
 
 % 
 
 ■ ■-' 
 
 «k' ' 
 
 
 K' 
 
 \ ..- 
 
 % 
 
 w 
 
 Tl 
 
 %,■%■ 
 
 ^? 
 
 V.*, .' . 
 
 Si, 
 
 
 
 'Ho J 
 
 f 
 
 
 % 
 
 
 ': . ,^-\ 
 
 m 
 
 :ti: ' 
 
 ■': '.' m 
 
 I, :■>•':, 
 
 ;it:;i; 
 
i44 
 
 A STRAJ^GE MESSAGE, 
 
 They shook hands and parted, and after Hiddulph left 
 her, he drove to South Kensington, alighting near the 
 street where Nora's house was situated. He knew the 
 number, and stood there outside, watching the lights in 
 the windows, and thinking of the fair woman within, his 
 heart racked by the contending emotions which struggled 
 in his breast. 
 
 It was starlight, and suddenly, Biddulph looking up- 
 wards at that wondrous sight which dwarfs all others, a 
 wave of purer thoughts swept through his mind. He 
 remembered lingering hand-in-hand with Nora on such a 
 night as this, and how they had talked of hopes and 
 aspirations not bounded by mortal span. Would he drag 
 her down, even if he could, he now asked !iimself. And 
 what was best in his nature answered no. He turned 
 away with something like a blessing on his lips, and 
 returned to his hotel, and when he reached it he sat down 
 to write to Nora to bid her farewell. 
 
 " M i' Dear, Dear Nora (he began). When this letter 
 reaches your hands, I shall have left town and started for 
 America, where I propose to make a lengthened tour. 
 Dear Nora, you know why I do this ? You, in your sweet 
 trust proposed that we should resume our old friendship, 
 and forget alike our days of grief and joy, and, on my part 
 at least, of passionate despair. But Nora, I cannot do 
 this. My nature is not as yours, and my strength is but 
 weakness. My aunt tells me that your strong faith has 
 bridged over for you the terrible grief which has literally 
 struck me to the earth. I should but disturb your peace, 
 my dear one, by the sight of my restless misery. I am 
 better away. But will you write to me sometimes, and 
 tell me all about your daily life ? These letters will be my 
 consolation in my long exile. And believe that I shall 
 remain always, " Faithfully yours, 
 
 "James Biddulph." 
 
 He did not post this letter, intending to do so after he 
 reached Liverpool on the following day. And he did 
 this ; Nora, in the meanwhile, listening during the whole 
 of the next morning with a beating heart and flushed 
 cheeks to every ring that came to the house door bell. 
 
 She felt so sure that Biddulph would not delay in call- 
 ing to see her ; and when he came not during the early 
 hours of the morning, she decided that he meant to come 
 to lunch with his aunt, Lady Barbara. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 245 
 
 But Lady Bab arrived alone at two o'clock, looking very 
 erect and grim. She kissed Nora, and patted Minnie Era- 
 ser's fair cheek with one of her bony fingers, regarding 
 them both at the same time critically, 
 
 "You girls look very well after your journey," she said ; 
 " but my poor old bones have a hundred aches, of course." 
 
 " Is James coming to lunch ? " asked Nora, with a sud- 
 den bliish. 
 
 " Not that I know of," replied Lady Bab, who did not 
 ihink that this was quite the time to break her news to 
 Nora, and also reflected that che might as well have her 
 lunch first. 
 
 To lunch accordingly they went, and Lady Bab's shrewd 
 eyes noticed how Nora was listening and watching for a 
 visitor that Lady Bab knew would not come. But she 
 said nothing about her nephew, James, until the meal was 
 over, and the three ladies had returned to the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 Then she said to Nora she should like to see over the 
 house, and Nora accordingly led her upstairs. 
 
 " Let us go into your room for a few minutes and have a 
 chat," suggested Lady Bab. 
 
 Thus they went together into Nora's bed-room, and 
 presently Lady Bab, after one or two remarks, said in her 
 abrupt way : 
 
 " Well, I had a visit from James Biddulph last night." 
 
 " I have been expecting him all day," answered Nora, 
 with a pretty blush ; " but he will be coming later, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 " He is not coming, my dear." 
 
 *' Not coming ?" repeated Nora, with a swift change of 
 countenance. " Has he left town, then ? " 
 
 "Yes ; he thought it right to go, and he was right." 
 
 "Was this," began Nora, with faltering tongue, and 
 again flushing deeply, " because I am here ? He need not 
 have been afraid." 
 
 " He likes you too well to stay— that is the truth, Nora ; 
 
 he is afraid of himself." 
 
 Nora did not speak ; she was greatly agitated, and could 
 scarcely conceal her emotion. ^ 
 
 " He has gone to America for a time," said Lady Barbara, 
 considerately. "When he comes back the first bitterness 
 of this unhappy affair will be over. My dear, he was wise 
 
 to go." , 
 
 Still Nora did not speak ; she was begmnmg to under- 
 
 
246 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 W 
 
 Stand now what Biddulph had meant when he had asked 
 to kiss her " for the last time," when they parted at Ross- 
 more. 
 
 " He looks changed and ill," continued Lady Barbara, 
 who was woman enough to know that Nora would rather 
 hear this than that, under the circumstance, he seemed well 
 and happy. "The change will do him good. All this has 
 cut him to the heart." 
 
 "And — he left no letter, no message ?" 
 
 " Yes, he sent a message, and he no doubt will write to 
 you. I was to tell you he was going away because he had 
 not strength to stay." 
 
 "I — I think he might have told riie this," said Nora, 
 with some pride. " Shall we go downstairs again . now. 
 Lady Barbara ? I think Minnie will feel dull if we stay 
 here." 
 
 But later in the day, when she received Biddulph's letter, 
 all her pride and her little feeling of anger melted away. 
 She could not mistake the tone of the words he had penned 
 with such a sore and aching heart. He loved her too well, 
 then, to forget the " brief days of joy " and " passionate 
 despair" that she had been prepared to ignore, to bury 
 with the sweet dreams and dead hopes which then had 
 ended. 
 
 She kissed his letter again and again, and laid it against 
 her breast as if it were some living thing. Sweet words! 
 that told her he was thinking of her then, and would think 
 of her when he was far away. This love of theirs at least 
 was strong and deep and true, and, like gold, would bear 
 the cruel crucible of absence and time. Nora stood there 
 thinking of Biddulph, seeing him with that strange men- 
 tal vision of ours which beholds features that are not 
 present — the glance, the smile, that memory re-pictures on 
 our brain. She knew his face so well — the gray eyes that 
 softened when he looked at her, that grew tender when he 
 listened to her words. 
 
 "My dear," she said softly, "I know you will not forget 
 me ; my soul is too near akin to yours for us to change." 
 
 ■^db—wMHK 
 
asked 
 ^t Ross- 
 
 farbara, 
 
 rather 
 
 led well 
 
 fhis has 
 
 'rite to 
 |he had 
 
 Nora, 
 
 now, 
 
 '■e stay 
 
 letter, 
 away. 
 >enned 
 3 well, 
 ionate 
 ' bury 
 n had 
 
 gainst 
 'ords ! 
 think 
 
 least 
 
 bear 
 there 
 men- 
 
 not 
 23 on 
 
 that 
 nhe 
 
 rget 
 g:e." 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 A NEW FEAR. 
 
 247 
 
 Many of us have a s* -cere admiration for virtues which 
 we never attempt to practise, and tlius Lady Barbara Bid- 
 dulph, who was one of the most impatient of women, was 
 much struck, during tlie days which followed her nephew's 
 departure to America, by tlie unselfish sweetness and pa- 
 tience of Nora's manner to every one around her. 
 
 Lady Bab was too shrewd not to know very well that 
 the girl's heart was "sad, and grieving sare." But Nora 
 made no parade of this, and talked cheerfully, and smiled 
 pleasantly, and was ready and pleased to take Minnie 
 Fraser about, and, in fact, bore herself so bravely, that 
 the elder woman honestly regarded her with wonder. 
 
 "A man," thought Lady Bab, who was always ready to 
 cast a stone at the stronger sex, " would have worried and 
 bothered every one, or taken to drinking, or done some- 
 thing absurd. But this girl gives no trouble, and can 
 think of others, and hides her disappoi itment in a manner 
 entirely creditable to her." 
 
 And presently Alick Fraser came up to town, and was 
 also struck by the gentle dignity with which Nora Stewart 
 carried herself in a position which, at least, must have 
 been eminently galling to any woman's heart. She, in 
 fact, never alluded to the events which had cost her such 
 bitter pain, and those around her understood that the 
 subject was never to be mentioned. 
 
 Her friends, Maud and Alice Lee, lived in the same 
 street in South Kensington, and Alick therefore found 
 Nora's house quite lively with young voices and faces. 
 He liked going there, and taking boxes at the theatres, 
 and escorting two or three pretty girls to public places. 
 He did not attempt to pay Nora any particular attention. 
 He was ready to take the Lees, Minnie, or Lady Barbara 
 wherever she pleased. He called himself her "country 
 cousin," but took very good care at the same time to let 
 every one see he was a rich man, and that he could spend 
 money when he chose to do so as lavishly as any one. 
 
 "Our 'country cousin' is delightful, I think!" said 
 Maud Lee one day, when Alick had sent expensive bou- 
 quets to Nora's house for the " four young ladies." 
 
i£4S 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 h 
 
 " He is very kind," answered Nora, and she began to 
 think that he really was so. She was thrown into a closer 
 intimacy with him also on account of Malcolm Fraser. 
 Alick sent the money he had promised to give through 
 Nora, as he always declared he did not want to know any- 
 thing about **the mad boy's whereabouts." 
 
 "Only don't let him come to England, you know. Miss 
 Nora," he impressed on Nora ; " but I am ready to advance 
 him a fair amount of money for his father and mother's 
 lake — for all our sakes, in fact — to start some respectable 
 business on." 
 
 But some three weeks after Nora's arrival in town Mal- 
 colm Fraser caused her fresh pain, and added a new fear 
 to her heart. His mother, in her letter she had intrusted 
 to Nora to post to him, containing her little savings for this 
 darling son, had told him the story of Nora's interrupted 
 wedding, adding that though she was sorry for the poor 
 girl, she could never have believed it was for Nora's true 
 happiness to have married the man ** who has cost us all so 
 dear." 
 
 These injudicious words aroused in the fiery jealous 
 heart of the young Highlander a yet deeper indignation 
 against Biddulph, whom he believed had destroyed all hope 
 and happiness for himself, and had now brought the most 
 bitter humiliation on Nora Stewart. And, in his first ex- 
 citement, he wrote such a letter to Nora that he filled her 
 mind with uneasy apprehensions. " I regret most bitterly 
 now," Nora read, with pallid lips, " that I missed my aim 
 in the Glen of Balla, and that the bullet did not bury itself 
 in his false heart, instead of one of his poor victims ; and 
 if he and I were standing here together now, he should 
 know this to his cost." 
 
 There was more in this strain, plainly showing to Nora 
 that Malcolm nourished the most deadly enmity to Bid- 
 dulph. And now they were in the same city! Nora 
 turned sick and faini when she thought of this, and how 
 chance or fate might bring them face to face. At last she 
 made up her mind to write to Malcolm, urging him, in the 
 strongest language she could u"^, to be morepenerous and 
 just 
 
 "Dear Malcolm (she wrote), I have received your letter, 
 
 And you have given me great pain, by writing it. You are 
 
 ^ryunjusttoMr. Biddulph, and very unkind tome. He was 
 
 'th^ victim of a most cruel deception, and acted thoughout 
 
 with p( 
 is now 
 which 
 should 
 reckle 
 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 Jgan to 
 
 |a closer 
 
 Fraser. 
 
 I h rough 
 
 >w any. 
 
 249 
 
 with perfect faith and honor ; and the subjectof my marriage 
 is now never mentioned to me. Yet you have revived all this, 
 which I wish to forget and be forgotten. And 1 tliink you 
 should remember also what Mr. Biddulph did for you. You 
 recklessly tried to take his life ; yet he did everything to 
 spare you and your father and mother further pain. If you 
 ever had it in your power, you should try to repay this, 
 and not write as if he were your enemy. If you and he 
 ever meet again, please remember my words, Malcolm, and 
 do not forget the great debt that you owe him. 
 " Your affectionate cousin, 
 
 *' Leonora Stewart." 
 
 m 
 mm 
 
 jealous 
 ^nation 
 11 hope 
 B most 
 rst ex- 
 ed her 
 itterly 
 ly aim 
 /"itself 
 ; and 
 hould 
 
 Nora 
 Bid- 
 
 Nora 
 how 
 
 It she 
 
 n the 
 
 i and 
 
 Jtter, 
 
 i are 
 
 was 
 
 lout 
 
 She did not mention this letter of Malcolm's to Alick 
 Fraser, nor, indeed, to any one ; but she could not forget 
 it. What if this rash, passionate yorng man were indeed 
 to meet Biddulph ? Still Nora felt sure that, for her sake, 
 Biddulph would avoid, if possible, any quarrel with him ; 
 it was Malcolm she feared, and, as the sequence proved, 
 her dread was well-founded. 
 
 In the meanwhile, to all outward seeming, Nora's life 
 was not an unhappy one. Minnie Fraser was a very sweet, 
 affectionate girl, and was devoted to her, and the two Lees 
 were perpetually in and out of the house, their father, a 
 barrister of some standing, having been an old friend of 
 Nora's father, Mr. Cust, before she took the name of Stew- 
 art, when she inherited Rossmore. 
 
 And Alick Fraser also, with his hard good sense and 
 strong personality, his boxes for the tiieatres, and his 
 bouquets for the gir's, helped to make the time pass ; and 
 presently Lady Barbara's shiewd eyes perceived that 
 Maud Lee took very good care to be always most charm- 
 ing when the rich man made his appearance among 
 them. 
 
 And Alick liked adulation from a pretty girl, as he liked 
 it from all. But though he laughed and jested with Miss 
 Lee, he never wavered in his secret determination to v.'in 
 Nora Stewart for his wife. But he gave Nora no hint of 
 this, at hast in words. He waited for success as he had 
 waited for it in his earlier life and won, and he did not now 
 doubt the result. 
 
 But his complacency was somewhat disturbed by the ap- 
 pearance of Lord Glendoyne upon the scene. Alick had 
 taken a box at the Lyceum for his "four young ladies," as 
 he called Nora, the two Lees, and his niece Minnie, and 
 
2^0 
 
 A STKAVGE MESSAGE. 
 
 A 
 
 
 between, one of tlie acts was returning to it, when he en- 
 countered Glendoyiie. 
 
 "Ah — Mr. Fraser," said Glcndoyne, pausing, and hold- 
 ing out his slender hand to the man who had purchased 
 his ancestral acres at Inisniore. "And how are all the 
 good people among the hills ? " 
 
 " I have not been among the hills lately," answered 
 Alick, with a smile. " My niece Minnie is staying in 
 town with Miss Nora Stewart, and I have been here for the 
 last week or so also." 
 
 "And how is Miss Nora Stewart ?" asked Glendoyne, 
 with a slight change of expression, as he had never seen 
 Nora since the evening when they had all met at Ross- 
 tnore, before what ought to have been her wedding day. 
 
 " She is very well," said Alick, sturdily ; "looking ex- 
 tremely well. She is here to-night." 
 
 " I should like very much to go and talk to her." 
 
 " Come along, then ; my box is close here.'' And a few 
 tr'^ments later Alick opened tliC door, and Glendoyne fol- 
 lowed him. 
 
 " Here are my four young ladies," he said, with that 
 hard smile of his. "^'iss Nora, I have brought an old 
 friend to see you." 
 
 Then Nora looked round, smiled, and cordially welcomed 
 Glendoyne ; while over Minnie Eraser's fair face passed a 
 sudden flush. 
 
 Glendoyne shook hands all round, and then took a chair 
 next Nora. 
 
 "I did not know you were in town," he said, 'or I 
 should have given myself the pleasure of calling to see 
 you." 
 
 " I shoulo huve been very pleased ; you must come now," 
 answered Nora, thinking of Minnie Fraser. 
 
 " I shall be delighted. May I call to-morrow ? " 
 
 Alick Fraser overheard tnis conversation, and he did not 
 quite like it. He knew Glendoyne was a very poor man, 
 and, with that quick intuition which had made him so suc- 
 cessful a man of business, it suddenly struck him that the 
 impoverished lord might think that Nora's fortune would 
 be a great assistance to him on the journey of life. But 
 presently Glendoyne turned round and began to talk to 
 Minnie Fraser, and Alick smiled at his own fears. 
 
 Yet the next day, and the next after that also, when he 
 went to call at Nora's house, he found Glendoyne. In 
 truth, Nora's drawing-room was a pleasant place for a man 
 
 to spend 
 women 
 liked tht 
 to the h( 
 glowing 
 He w 
 scene, a 
 fair face 
 that he 
 content 
 be own( 
 coveted, 
 clement 
 " I do 
 fellow," 
 tainly— 
 title ; tl 
 train of 
 "Thii 
 Miss Nv 
 momen 
 were q\ 
 brow, 
 tainly." 
 Miss St 
 over tw 
 she wc 
 comfor 
 and thf 
 out ; " 
 self to 
 And 
 withou 
 doyne 
 descen 
 feel ve 
 But 
 Inismc 
 "Sh 
 thougl 
 well, 1 
 and w 
 Frasei 
 
' 'I 
 
 A ^TkANGF. MESSAGE, 
 
 45t 
 
 to spend a dull winter's afternoon in, for there were pretty- 
 women and briglit words always there, and Glcndf^yne 
 hked the warm firelight, and would sit on a low chair close 
 to the hearth, and hold out his slender hands to meet the 
 glowing blaze. 
 
 He was sitting thus when Alick Fraser came upon the 
 scene, and by the fire, too, sat Nora Stewart, shading her 
 fair face from the heat with a feather fan ; and Alick ielt 
 that he decidedly did not like it. Glendoyne looked too 
 content and too much at home to please the future would- 
 be owner of the house and the pretty woman whom Alick 
 coveted, and he frowned, and acted rather as a discordant 
 clement among the quiet group. 
 
 ** I do not know what she sees in this languid, dand) fied 
 fellow," thought the rutBed Alick ; ** not his looks, cer- 
 tainly — he's nothing to look at. Perhaps she likes the 
 title ; they say women do ; " and this idea opened a new 
 train of thought to Alick Eraser's mind. 
 
 ** This middle-aged person can't surely oe thinking of 
 Miss Nora Stewart," Glendoyne was retlecting at the same 
 moment, for though his movements were slow, his brains 
 were quick, and he at once had noted the frown on Alick's 
 brow. " It is very droll if it is so. The property joins, cer- 
 tainly." And then Glendoyne continued reflecting that 
 Miss Stewart was a very charming person ; that she had 
 over two thousand a year, it was said ; that he supposed 
 she would marry some one ; that this room was very 
 comfortable, and that, altogether, he liked sitting there, 
 and that he meant ** to sit Mr. Alick Fraser from Glasgow 
 out ; " for Glendoyne could never mentally reconcile him- 
 self to call Alick, Mr. Fraser of Inismore. 
 
 And he did this. Alick remained as long as he could 
 without being invited to stay to dinner, but he left Glen- 
 doyne warming his hands by the fire still. And as Alick 
 descended the staircase with his stalwart steps, he did not 
 feel very amiable. 
 
 But presently he began to think of his big income and 
 Inismore, and he smiled. 
 
 "She would never take a poor beggar like that," he 
 thought ; "and if she has a fancy to be called my lady, 
 well, I dare say I could manage it ;" and he smiled again 
 and went back to his hotel thinking of himself as Sir Alick 
 Fraser of Inismore. 
 
 I'r! |l 
 
 WW 
 
 i; nil 
 
as« 
 
 A STRAI^GE MESSAGE, 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 ON THE TRACK. 
 
 And now let us leave Nora for a while, bearing her 
 secret grief and her secret anxiety with a smiling face, as 
 some wom(»n do, and see how it fared with the unhappy 
 young cousin who deemed liimself exiled for her sake. 
 
 When Malcolm Fraser had first heard from Nora's lips 
 that it was known who had shot the woman in the Glen of 
 Balla, he had been overwhelmed and prostrated by the 
 horror of his position. Me had gone to Liverpool feeling 
 himself a hunted man ; to escape seemed everything just 
 then, and his love and his hate alike dwindled in his mind. 
 
 And an incident which occurred just as the steamer 
 he sailed in was starting, yet further made him shrink 
 from the possible consequences of his crime. One of tlie 
 intended passengers, a young man accompanied by a 
 young wife, left the steamer again, accompanied by two 
 men whom it was whispered around were detective officers. 
 The arrested passenger s face was pallid and downcast, 
 and the wife's wet with tears. They passed through the 
 crowd and quitted the ship, and while the rest talked of 
 them, speculating about the cause of the young man's 
 detention, Malcolm Fraser felt a cringe of fear run through 
 his strong frame that he had never felt before. He had 
 changed his name when he took his passage, and now 
 called himself Stewart, but still, was he safe ? He did not 
 feel this until the wild green sea only was visible. Then 
 he breathed more freely. But for the first few days the 
 terrible mal-de-mtr utterly prostrated him, and it was only 
 during the latter part of his voyage that he realized in full 
 the miserable conseque ices of his mad act. 
 
 He was an exile then for life from home and country! 
 Pacing the deck with folded arms, and seeking friendship 
 or acquaintance with none, the handsome young High- 
 lander's heart was full of bitterness. And, strange, he did 
 not blame himself. It was the man whose ** base deceit," 
 as he mentally called Biddulph's keeping his marriage a 
 secret, that had brought about this wretchedness, and 
 made Malcolm Fraser feel himself a fugitive upon earth. 
 
 And his hatred and jealousy of Biddulph seemed to 
 grow and grow. It was like' a gnawing pain always 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 353 
 
 present, and some of his fellow-passengers wondered wpat 
 the cause could be that had cast so deep a gloom on so 
 young a brow. 
 
 He wrote a few lines to Nora when he reached New 
 York, little guessing that the arrival of these lines were 
 eagerly awaited for by Biddulph, as Nora had promised 
 when they came that she would agree to fix her wedding- 
 day. Then the news reached him of the death of the 
 young gillie in the snow, and Rob Mackenzie's faithful 
 love and mournful fate filled the passionate and embittered 
 heart of Malcolm Fraser with fresh grief, and a yet 
 stronger sense of anger against Biddulph, whom he con- 
 sidered had caused all this misery. But the crownin^r 
 blow came when he heard tliat Nora was absolutely go»»ig 
 to marry Biddulph. Tiic young man read thcce words, 
 and the blood seemed to rush with blinding force to his 
 head, and he staggered as if he had been struck. But 
 with an effort he remembered h*; was not alone, for a man 
 standing near him had turned round and looked curiously 
 in his whitening face. 
 
 It was only when he reached his bedroom in the hotel 
 where he was staying that he gave way to the fierce agony 
 that rent his heart. He had truly loved Nora Stewart — 
 had loved her, as he had told her, since he knew what 
 love meant — and to lose her thus ! He struck his clenched 
 hands against his forehead ; the veins swelled in his throat, 
 his eyes grew red with the terrible passion and anguish 
 of his soul. Then he swore he would return to Scotland 
 and stop this marriage, if it cost him his life. He looked 
 at the date of his mother's letter, sent through Nora, and 
 saw it had come too late. He could not reach England 
 in time. Mrs. Jock, with the fond maternal love which 
 filled her breast, had delayed as long as possible inflicting 
 this pain upon her beloved son. 
 
 " If you tell him, he will get over it all the sooner," 
 Jock Fraser had said ; but the mother understood better 
 that Malcolm's feeling for Nora was not one to be scon 
 forgotten. She had put off telling him. therefore, of the 
 engagement until the very eve of the wedding. And as 
 the unhappy young man paced his room like some caged 
 wild creature, he knew he could do nothing. He had lost 
 everything now, love, hope, faith, all through one man, and 
 in words dark and terrible Malcolm Fraser lifted his hand 
 and cursed the enemy of his life. 
 
 Then the grim thought '4olc into his mind. Could he 
 
254 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 'i 
 
 endure this life ? go on with this burning pain scorching 
 his existence ? Malcohn Fraser asked himself this question 
 many a time during the days which followed his motlici's 
 news about Nora Stewart. He used to go out alone and 
 wander about the streets of the strange city, where he had 
 no friend, debating in his own mind whether he should not 
 end it all — kill the restless jealousy, the furious hate, wliich 
 was tormenting him, by one fell blow. There was an hour 
 when he had fixed to do this ; when the unendurable tor- 
 ture in his heart gave him courage to face the secrets of 
 the dark night which has no morning. 
 
 He wrote a few farewell despairing lines to his mother 
 and Nora, and then, before he posted these, with strange 
 self-torment, he went to the post-office, expecting to find 
 there a letter to tell him that the marriage, the thought of 
 which was maddening him, had absolutely taken place. 
 There was a letter for him — a letter from his mother — and 
 pale, almost ghastly, Malcolm grasped it in his trembling 
 hand and tore it open. 
 
 As he read it, everything grew blank before his dazed 
 sight. It contained his fond mother's little gift of money ; 
 but Malcolm never glanced at this. The words that seemed 
 to blind him with sudden joy, to intoxicate him with a wild 
 sense of elation, and give him new hopes for the life that he 
 had so nearly taken, were those which told him of Nora's 
 bitter disappointment ; of the reappearance of Biddulph's 
 wife, and the end of everything between them. 
 
 Malcolm Eraser's excitement was so great that for some 
 hours it amounted to a species of delirium. It was a bright 
 day, and the young man whajiad gone into the post-ofhce 
 hating the sun and all things under it, now went forth to 
 revel in its beams. 
 
 But this mood did not last ; there succeeded to it an un- 
 defined, yet deadly purpose to revenge (so he called it) the 
 wrongs of the woman he so passionately loved. Under 
 this impulse he wrote the letter to Nora which caused her 
 such bitter pain, and before he received a reply it seemed 
 to him as if his enemy had been delivered into his hands. 
 
 Lounging one day in Madison Square, he accidentally 
 saw a cab drive up to the chief entrance of the Fifth 
 Avenue Hotel, on which there was a considerable amount 
 of luggage, and a tall slender man with spectacles emerge 
 from it, and apparently commence a mild argument with 
 the driver on the extravagant nature of his charges. 
 
 Malcolm went nearer, out of mere curiosity and idle- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 255 
 
 ness ; but when he got close to the hotel, another gentle- 
 man made his appearance from the cab, with his arms 
 laden with rugs and travelling-cases, and put his hand into 
 his pocket also to pay the driver, and said something smil- 
 ingly to the man in spectacles. He turned his face as he 
 did tills, so that Malcolm could see his profile. It was 
 Biddulph! In a moment Malcolm recognized him, and a 
 fierce throb of passion darted through his heart ; he 
 started, drew back, and watched his enemy unseen. 
 
 There was no hiistake ; it was Biddulph, browner 
 with his sea-voyage, and thinner, but Malcolm's jealous 
 eyes knew the face too well which had caused him such 
 misery. And presently, after Biddulph and his companion 
 had settled the dispute with the cab driver and entered the 
 hotel, Malcolm passed the entrance just as a porter was 
 carrying in the luggage, and he plainly saw the hated 
 name " Biddulph " painted in white letters on a port- 
 manteau. # 
 
 It would be almost impossible to describe the changing 
 storm of passions which swept through Malcolm Fraser's 
 mind after he had made this discovery. It was now ex- 
 travagant joy that he had realized with his own sight that 
 Biddulph and Nora were separated ; now rage and hate 
 against the man who had caused them all such bitter pain. 
 He went back to his hotel, and sat down and tried to think 
 what he should do. On one thing he was determined : 
 Biddulph should now be called to account for all the 
 wrong that he had done. 
 
 Biddulph, against whom he nourished such bitter en- 
 mity, in the meanwhile was very calmly conversing with 
 his temporary companion, Mr. Dalton, these two having 
 formed a sort of intimacy during the voyage to New York. 
 
 They had become acquainted by sitting next each other 
 at table, and, being both men of a sombre frame of mind 
 at the present time, they suited each other, and would 
 pace together for hours on the deck, talking in the vague, 
 speculative fashion in which it was Biddulph's fancy some- 
 times to indulge. 
 
 Biddulph gathered, during these conversations, that his 
 companion had recently become a widower, but Dalton 
 made no especial moan over his loss. 
 
 "Most men, I suppose," he said to Biddulph one night, 
 as the great green waves of tiie Atlantic rolled past and 
 around them, "have some interest in life which helps them 
 to bear its troubles with pliilosophy, and 1 have found 
 
 iUffi" 
 
256 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 7 
 
 h 
 
 
 mine amid the rocks. I am going to America to inspect 
 the wonderful formations among the valleys and mountains 
 of the great Northwest.* I am told those of the Yoseniite 
 Valley and the Yellowstone Park almost defy the geologist 
 by their varied wonders ; but we shall see." 
 
 He was a calm, cold man this, and Biddulph used some- 
 times to envy him the power of thus completely wrapping 
 himself up in the structure of the world's en 3t, its rocks 
 and their changes, so that its passions and disappointments 
 seemed dw^indled, or almost indifferent to his mind. 
 
 "I wish I only could interest myself in something !" he 
 exclaimed one evening with an impatient sigh to Dalton, 
 as they walked side by side, and dusky shadows stole over 
 the misty sea. 
 
 " Come with me on my tour by the Northern Pacific 
 line, then," answered Dalton, in his quiet way; "surely 
 you can find sufficient interest in the vast prairie lands; in 
 the teeming geologic curiosities which everywhere abound, 
 to make you forget the worries which, I conclude by your 
 manner of speaking, you are now leaving behind." 
 
 " My worries," said Biddulph, somewhat grimly, "won't 
 be left behind ; they travel with me as you perceive ; but 
 all the same, unless you will think me a very tiresome and 
 ignorant companion, I think I should like to go with you, 
 and have a look at the hot springs of Yellowstone Park." 
 
 They settled it thiis before they landed. Biddulph and 
 his new companion (they could scarcely be called friends) 
 were to spend a short time in New York, and to see all 
 that was most interesting in the city, and then were to 
 start together on a tour through the vast continent, finally 
 reaching the wonderful Yellowstone Park, which, in truth, 
 had been Dalion's chief object in visiting America, so 
 interested had he become in the accounts of this grand, 
 wild, volcanic region, where he hoped to find unique 
 specimens, and to build theories on the 
 changes wrought in bygone days by the 
 heavings of some unseen power. 
 
 But Biddulph was not fated ever to behold the boiling 
 Kcysers of the Fireholc Valley. He little guessed that 
 from the day of his arrival at New York, his footsteps 
 were persistently dogged, and his movements constantly 
 watched by the fiery, vindictive young man who had 
 already once attempted to take his life. Yet this was so ; 
 Malcolm Eraser was determined to force Biddulph to fight 
 him, or, if he refused, as he had already done, to show 
 
 stupendous 
 mighty up- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 HI 
 
 him no pity. And his fierce, jealoua anger wa? yet 
 further roused when he received Nora's letter, in which 
 she pointed out to him that he even owed Biddulph 
 gratitude instead of hate. Every line of this letter seemed 
 to fill Malcolm's heart more completely with that passion 
 which is "cruel as the grave." He understood now why 
 she had written it ; she feared for " this fine lover of hers," 
 he thought bitterly, knowing that he (Malcolm) might 
 now meet him, and call him to account for the evil he had 
 done. 
 
 " She loves him still," reflected Malcolm, with writhing 
 lips, as he read and re-read Nora's words ; " but it shall 
 not last. Either this man or I shall cease to live." 
 
 He quietly, and under the shadow of night, removed to 
 the great hotel where Biddulph and Dalton were staying, 
 and he bribed one of the waiters secretly to tejl him of all 
 their movements. He knew when these two men went to 
 Brooklyn, and he followed them unseen to museums, 
 churches, and art collections; but he never saw Biddulph 
 alone. Once he absolutely met them in Fifth Avenue, 
 but neither of them noticed the young face glaring at 
 them pale with jealous rage. 
 
 Then one day he heard that they were going to leave 
 New York for Philadelphia, and he left too. But it would 
 be useless and wearisome to tell how from city to city 
 Malcolm Eraser followed the two travellers as surely as a 
 sleuth hound. His means were getting low, and his 
 patience was utterly worn out by the time that Biddulph 
 and Dalton began to near the goal of their long journey. 
 They had started from St. Paul's for the Yellowstone 
 Park, but Dalton found such geologic wonders on the 
 way that he could not be induced to travel quickly. And 
 the beautiful prairie lands, extending wave on wave ; the 
 valleys, with their wondrous myriads of pyramids, ravines, 
 and precipices ; the marvellous coloi inpf ; the weird gran- 
 deur of scene succeeding scene, made Biddulph also for a 
 while forget the dark shadows which still steeped his heart 
 almost in perpetual gloom. 
 
 Dalton was particularly interested in this region by the 
 varying beds of different strata — the coal beds, the leaf 
 beds, where some fossil leaves were of a deep scarlet hue, 
 though still retaining the perfert form and surface as of a 
 growing leaf. They finally took up their abode for a 
 week or so at a little newborn city named Glendive.where 
 the railway enters the valley of the Yellowstone River ; 
 
 I'll 
 
 m% 
 
 m 
 
 m. 
 
4^8 
 
 A STRANG E MES^ACE. 
 
 for Dalton VTished to stay here for a short time to arrange 
 his already iarge co.Uection of specimens, before proceed- 
 ing onward to the hot springs, and the beautiful scenery 
 around Glendive suited Biddulph's fancy, and helped to 
 soothe and elevate his soul. 
 
 It was on the second day of ^heir stay in the new city 
 that, after their early dinner, Bidaulph left Dalton poring 
 over his treasures, numbering them, and counting them as 
 a miser counts his gold, and went out alone to have a 
 stroll among the wild and beautiful hills. 
 
 And as he went he not unnaturally was thinking of Nora 
 Stewart. This was the first walk he had had without his 
 travelling companion since they had started from New 
 York, and Nora's memory was his companion now. 
 
 The ring the doctor had brought him in his bitter de- 
 spair was on his hand ; the little curl she had cut from her 
 white brow was carried in a locket he always wore ; and 
 her sweet face was plainly pictured on his brain. 
 
 He went on with bent head until he had quitted the 
 abodes of men. Then, as the picturesque scenery opened 
 out before him — for Nature, with her green and lavish 
 hand, here fills the gazer's soul with alternate admiration 
 and awe — the towering pine-crowned peaks, the deep silent 
 ravines, the mighty blocks of granite of wondrous form 
 and coloring, the green slopes and dangerous precipices 
 that are to be seen on every side, form picture after pic- 
 ture of strange beauty and grandeur ; and Biddulph's 
 mood, musing, meditative, was in perfect keeping with his 
 surroundings. 
 
 At last, after two hours' walking, he found himself stand- 
 ing on a huge granite mass, the dark pines growing in some 
 places thickly up its rugged sides. A streamlet went 
 trickling down through a cleft in the rock to the ravine 
 below, forming there a little dot of a lake, on which at this 
 moment the sun was shining It was a wild and lovely 
 spot, with "the thick moss of centuries" growing in green 
 patches where the moisture from the water fell ; and as 
 Biddulph stood almost on the edge of the precipice, watcli- 
 ing two waterfowl disporting themselves in the rocky basin 
 of the little lake below, he suddenly heard a footfall be- 
 hind him, and turning quickly round, he perceived a 
 young nan in a gray suit approaching the spot where he 
 stoodf 
 
A STRAiVGE MESSAGE, 
 
 259 
 
 This was Malcolm Fraser, who had followed Biddulph 
 on his long tramp through the mountain ranges, and now 
 drew near him with a deliberate and settled purpose in his 
 mind. But for the moment Biddulph failed to recognize 
 him ; he saw a tall young Englishman, as lie thought, 
 with a gray travelling-cap pulled far over his face, making 
 his way toward him, and, with his usual grave courtesy of 
 manner, he made a step backward, turned to Malcolm, and 
 slightly raised his cap. 
 
 But the jealous, fiery young Scot made no answering 
 salutation. He stopped when a few paces off Biddulph, 
 and stood regarding him sternly with liis blue eyes. 
 
 " We meet alone at last, then, Mr. Biddulph," he said, 
 after a moment's pause. 
 
 Then Biddulph remembered him, and guessed, perhaps, 
 something of his purpose. 
 
 "You are Mr. Malcolm Fr ler, are you not?" he an- 
 swered, slowly. "I scarcely expected to see you here." 
 
 " Yet I followed you deliberately here — have followed 
 you week after week ; I suppose you know why ? " 
 
 "Indeed I do not." 
 
 "I have followed you," said Malcolm, growing pale to 
 the very lips with the violence of his emotion, ** to call 
 you to account for your shameful conduct to my cousin, 
 Miss Nora Stewart." 
 
 Biddulph, too, grew pale at the mention of Nora's name, 
 yet he answered, v/ith cold reserve : 
 
 " I fail to understand your meaning '' 
 
 "It is this! "cried Malcolm, passio ately ; "you have 
 grossly insulted her ! Do not deny it. You were going 
 to marry her, knowing well that your own wife was still 
 
 alive." 
 
 " Mr. Fraser," said Biddulph, with some dignity, looking 
 steadily at the young man's agitated fac-^, " perhaps you 
 have been misinformed as to the facts of u most unhappy 
 story. I surely believed the woman to be dead whom I 
 had the misfortune to marry in my young manhood ; 1 be- 
 lieved I saw her die— you know how— before I presumed 
 to ask Miss Stewart to be my wife." 
 
 " It's easy to say this after you are found out ! " ex- 
 claimed Malcolm, tauntingly, 
 
 A flush passed over Biddulph's face as he listencti to 
 these words. He bit his lips, but was silent, disdaining, 
 indeed, to make any reply. 
 
 " gut it has gome to this between you and me, went on 
 
 — -»' 
 
 fJfWS'W'*^ 
 
S<0 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 /t 
 
 Malcolm, with gathering passion, for the sight of this man 
 so cold, so scornful, seemed to increase his rage — "that 
 the world is not big enough for us both to live ! You have 
 your revolver with you, I suppose ? I have mine. Let us 
 fight like men, unless you are a coward too." 
 
 ** I am no coward, but 1 decline, as 1 did before, to lift 
 my hand against you," said Biddulph, coldly. "Enough 
 misery has been caused already to you and yours ; I shall 
 not add to it, whatever in your mistaken judgment yuu 
 may say." 
 
 " I will force you to fight ! " cried Malcolm, furiously, 
 drawing a revolver from his pocket. "Do you see this? 
 Defend yourself, or I will shoot you like a dog ! " 
 
 He levelled the pistol straight at Biddulph's breast as he 
 spoke, with such a deadly determined expression on his 
 face that Biddulph saw that he was in earnest, but he 
 did not quail. 
 
 " Mr. Fraser " he began. 
 
 " I shall listen to no words now ; vou and me have met 
 at last in what I mean to be a death-struggle. Will you 
 defend yourself, or I shall fire ?" 
 
 The words had scarcely passed his lips when, quick as 
 thought, Biddulph raised his stout walking-stick, and, 
 striking upwards, struck the revolver clean out of Mal- 
 colm's hand, flinging it first high in the air, and then send- 
 ing it rolling down the precipitous side of the granite mass 
 where they were standing, into the ravine below. 
 
 A scream of rage burst from Malcolm's lips when he saw 
 his weapon was lost to him, and he rushed at Biddulph in 
 uncontrollable fury, striking him with such tremendous 
 force on the breast, that for a moment Biddulph staggered 
 beneath the blow. 
 
 Then commenced a dreadful struggle between the two 
 men — a struggle for life. 
 
 "You shall follow it!" swore Malcolm, mad with fury, 
 endeavoring to force Biddulph back to the edge of the 
 cliff. They wound their arms round each other, they 
 strained, they panted, Biddulph trying to thrust Malcolm 
 away from the dizzy verge, while he with vindictive hate 
 sought to drive his enemy to what seemed certain death. 
 
 And as they wrestled in this deadly fight Biddulph felt 
 his strength gradually failing him, and was conscious he 
 could not long resist the determined attacks of the younsjj 
 Scot. A moment more, and his foot was at the very very:t' 
 of the cliff. He made a frighful effort to recover himself, 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 a6i 
 
 catching hold of Malcolm Eraser's arm just as he fell 
 back, and in an instant, less time than it takes to write 
 this, these two men fell together, down, down, Biddulph 
 grasping the branch of a pine as they were hurled past it ; 
 but the frail stay broke, and all grew blackness and dark- 
 ness to his sight. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 A DARK NIGHT. 
 
 Biddulph's first conscious sensation after that frightful 
 descent was one of intense pain. Then, in hazy and un- 
 certain fashion — like an indistinct dream — he began to 
 realize what had happened. He had fallen, or rather, been 
 thrust, over the precipitous side of the great granite mass 
 Jibove, and, in a last terrible effort to save himself, had 
 caught hold of Malcolm Eraser's arm, wlio had fallen with 
 him. 
 
 As Biddulph vaguely remembered this, he lifted his head 
 and looked around. How dark it seemed! Dusky shad- 
 ows lay on the towering hills beyond ; dusky siiadcnvs on 
 the sky. Biddulph rubbed his eyes and tried to see more 
 clearly ; and in the dim light he now perceived, lying a 
 few yards from him, a huddled up form clad in gray. This 
 was Malcolm Eraser, then ; in seeking to kill Biddulph, 
 had he brought about his own death .? 
 
 This thought passed through Biddulph's half-dazed 
 brain, as he gazed with his half-blind eyes at the motion- 
 less figure lying near him. Then he endeavored to rise, 
 but the sharper pangs of agony that darted through his 
 own frame as he did this, told him that he could not ; that 
 his lower limbs were powerless, and his injuries great. 
 
 Suddenly he recollected that he had carried a flask with 
 him when he started on this ill-starred, solitary ramble. He 
 could move his arms, and, nfter a little difficulty, he drew 
 this flask out of his coat-pocket, and drank some of the 
 brandy it contained. The spirit instantly revived him ; 
 he began to see more clearly, and tc) understand more 
 acutely, the dreadful position in which he found himself. 
 In this wild and lonely spc^t, how could help reach him ? 
 Would he lie here until he died ; how long, Biddulph 
 vaguely wondered, in such torture could he live ? 
 
 These gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a moan. 
 
'] 
 
 262 
 
 A STkANGk MESSAGE, 
 
 Again Biddulph turned his eyes to the gray form, and now 
 he saw it stir. He was not dead, then, this headstrcMig, 
 passionate youth, who had brought about this terrible 
 strait ? Another moan — a moan of such intense anguish 
 that it moved Biddulph's heart to some feeling of pity- 
 now fell on his ears, and he once more raised himself and 
 spoke to Malcolm Fraser. 
 
 "Are you much hurt?" he said. 
 
 There was no answer ; the gray, huddled up form stirred 
 again, or rather, shuddered, and even the moans ceased. 
 He was dying, then, Biddulph thought, and it seemed to 
 him, even amid bis own pain, terrible to leave a fellow- 
 creature maiH' d in such a deadly pass, and he tried to 
 drag him 'f . his arms closer to Malcolm Fraser. 
 
 The piu . ;.H.i; ch that Biddulph had caught in his hand 
 as he was i . led 'own the precipice, lay between them, 
 and Biddulph haa to thrust this aside. But the brandy 
 had given him strength, and after somB painful efforts, he 
 succeeded in reaching Malcolm Fraser, who was lying 
 doubled up together in an extraordinary position, just as 
 he had fallen. 
 
 And when Biddulph saw his white, ghastly face in the 
 fading light, he thought he was actually dead. But Bid- 
 dulph put out his hand and touched Malcolm's ; it was 
 still warm, and there was a faint beat in his pulse. 
 
 " Rouse yourself, and drink this," said Biddulph, pour- 
 ing out some of the brandy from the flask ; and as he spoke, 
 the young Scot opened his blue eyes and looked in Bid- 
 dulph's face ; and when he did so, somehow Biddulph re- 
 membered Jock Fraser and his wife, and the once happy 
 home at Airdlinn. 
 
 "Try to drink it," he said more gently, putting the 
 brandy to Malcolm's white lips. The injured man seemed 
 to understand ; he swallowed some brandy, still with his 
 eyes fixed on Biddulph's face, and then, with another 
 moan, turned away his head. 
 
 "My back is broken," he said in a faint voice ; "I'm 
 done for ! " 
 
 "We are both in a very bad plight, seemingly," an- 
 swered Biddulph ; " but can't you move ? Why are you 
 lying as you are ?" 
 
 "I can't move." 
 
 " Let me help you ; I can use my arms — there, is that 
 better ? " 
 
 Malcolm seemed quite helpless, and was lying in a 
 
 ( 
 iy» 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 263 
 
 y. 
 
 an- 
 
 re 
 
 you 
 
 is 
 
 that 
 
 r 
 
 in a 
 
 strange, unnatural position, which Biddulph found it 
 almost impossible in his own condition to alter. 
 
 "It's no good," groaned Malcolm; "leave me alone; 
 let me die alone." 
 
 Biddulph did not speak, and the two lay there in silence 
 together as the shadows deepened, and darkness and night 
 came creeping down. It wa? a solemn moment, for it 
 seemed to Bidtlulph that for Malcolm Fraser there would 
 be no morning. For himself, his resolute will and strong 
 constitution might help him to bear up, though he knew 
 now that one of his own legs was broken, and the other, if 
 not broken, was greatly injured. But his arms were all 
 right, and his head was not hurt, and his mind was now 
 clear. He looked at his watch and found it had stopped ; 
 but, by the fast fading light, he understood that hours and 
 hours must have been passed in unconsciousness since 
 tliat fearful fall. He lay there and reckoned ^ chances 
 of life or death ; and strange, the life thav b !. lately 
 seemed so miserable to him now grew mo- pi ious in 
 his sight. If he could live until the morn! 7, ^"»aiton was 
 sure to search for him, he thought, and perh ps this idea 
 made him endure his great pain with co rage and forti- 
 tude. 
 
 And by and by the stars came out, and looked down 
 with their solemn eyes at yon strange sight in the little 
 ravine among the hills. The two men were still silent; 
 Malcolm Fraser, for pride's sake, forcing back the groans 
 that rose on his pale lips, lest his enemy should triumph 
 over him. And of what was Biddulph thinking ? One by 
 one the events of his past life rose before him, and Nata- 
 lie Beranger's dark face, and Nora Stewart's fair one came 
 hovering near. Would he see them again, or should the 
 mighty secrets that are hidden from living men soon be 
 open to his view ? This life of ours— the sad gift we cling 
 to even when most sad, for the opening and the shutting 
 of the unknown door appals us all— was surely never 
 meant to end with breath ! Thus Biddulph thought, lift- 
 ing his eyes upwards, silently asking for the help we all 
 must need. And sleep— sweet boon of God— presently 
 stole over his waking thoughts, and soothed his sharp 
 pangs with soft embrace. 
 
 And he dreamed Lying tiiere, with his closed eyelids 
 facing the starlit sky, a vision, strange, beautiful, was 
 
 1.1 
 
 m 
 .-**• 
 
 1 
 
264 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 given to that mysterious sight of ours which sees in 
 dreams. The heavens above seemed cleft, and a track of 
 white and shining light came straight to earth, and winging 
 her way through the bright path, a white-robed messen- 
 ger of light came floating down. 
 
 She stood at Biddulph's feet, and the sleeping man saw 
 the angel's face, full of grdat pity and eternal love. He 
 stretched out his arms and gazed and gated, and as he 
 did so the heavenly visitor's countenance seemed to 
 change to one familiar It was Nora Stewart who stood 
 looking at him now cMt of the shining light, with love, 
 pity, and tenderness in her dark eyes. 
 
 Biddulph started up with a cry, and awoke. He looked 
 around ; the light was; all gone, and a deep gloom lay over 
 the earth, and the stars had paled. Then there fell on his 
 cars a wail of anguish. 
 
 "Oh, my God — mvGod! — waUr^ water! — I hear it—I 
 hear it. In mercy jrive me a drink !" 
 
 It was Malcoh" Frascr who spoke the piteous words. 
 And as Biddulph listened, he, too, heard the trickle of the 
 little streamlet 'iown through the rock above, and remem- 
 bered the tin^' lake he had noticed in the ravine during 
 the afternoon ; and a memory, a whisper, perhaps, now 
 moved his heart. 
 
 " If thino enemy thirst, give him drink ; if he hunger, 
 feed him." 
 
 "I hear water falling also," he said, addressing Malcolm, 
 and dragging himself a little nearer the dim outline of his 
 quivering frame ; " but I fear it is some little distance 
 off." 
 
 "Oh, I'm choking, I'm choking!" cried Malcolm, now 
 flinging b^s arms in the air. In his anguish he had con- 
 trived to move the upper part of his body somehow, and 
 lay gashing apparently for breath. " Oh, give me one drop 
 — ^one drop of water to cool my tongue ! " 
 
 It was terrible to hear him, and, with courage that was 
 almost heroic, Biddulph answered 
 
 ** I shall try to get you some. Here, drink this brandy 
 to keep you un until I return." 
 
 Malcolm eaj^erly swallowed the spirit ; and then, slowly, 
 painfully, Biddulph commenced to diag. himself along the 
 ground bv his hands and arms in the direction of the sound 
 of the falling water. 
 
 It is dreadful even to tell of Biddulph's sufferings as he 
 went along. The broken bones of his leg jarred together, 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 365 
 
 wounding the flesh, and inflicting on him intense torture. 
 He was a strong man piiysically, but lie grew faint and 
 weary, and great drops stood on his brow long before he 
 reached tiie roci<y basin of tiic little lake, and contrived to 
 pull himself to its edge. 
 
 At last, panting and exhausted, he leaned cer and put 
 his hands into the cool water and drank, rnd drank, and 
 grew refreshed. It seemed to give him new life ; and, after 
 resting a minute or two, he filled tlie now nearly emptied 
 tlask and his cap, which he had found lying near him, and 
 started back on his toilsome way to the miserable sufferer 
 he had left behind. 
 
 The yards seemed miles on this terrible journey. The 
 difficulty of carrying the cap) full of water, and the positive 
 agony of feeling it slowly soaking through the cloth — the 
 precious fluid that he had come through so much to obtain 
 —was truly dreadful. It was, indeed, with the utmost 
 labor that Biddulph could pull himself along ; the moans 
 that rent the still night, from the unhappy young man he 
 was trying to succor, giving him fresh courage to continue 
 his painful task. 
 
 When he neared Malcolm Fraser, almost a frenzied cry 
 burst from his parched lips. 
 
 " Have you got it ? Give me it, give me it, or I shall 
 die ! " 
 
 He drank it all — all to the very last drop, and then cried 
 for more. But Biddulph kept back the little that he had 
 in the flask mixed with the remaining brandy, for future 
 necessity, feeling that it was impossible that he could go 
 again to the small lake for a fresh supply. 
 
 He told Malcolm this, and tried to cheer him by telling 
 him that his travelling companion, Mr. Dalton, would be 
 sure to institute a search for them early in the morning, 
 and that then they would have water and the help they re- 
 quired. 
 
 " My chest seems crushed in," answered Malcolm, "and 
 my back, I believe, is broken ; but I would care for noth- 
 ing if I could only get drink." 
 
 It was this consuming thirst that, indeed, seemed intol- 
 erable to him. Biddulph himself felt faint and choking 
 with thirst also, and the temptation rose strongly in his 
 mind to drink the water mixed with spirit that was left 
 himself ; but he resisted this, bearing as best he could the 
 weakness and pain that at times almost overpowered 
 him. Again he slept, but this time no heavenly visitor 
 
366 
 
 A STRANGE AfESSAGE, 
 
 came to comfort him, and a sense of suffering never left 
 him. When he awoke the east was radiant with tiie pink 
 clouds of dawn, and presently over the hills rose the 
 bright king of day, lighting the myriad peaks and pyra- 
 mids with inexpressible beauty and splendor. 
 
 From the rising sun liiddulph's eyes fell on the pros- 
 trate form near him, and on the agonized face of the 
 young man who had wrought all this deadly ill. Malculin 
 Eraser's expression was terrible, and his brow clammy as 
 with the dews of death. His blue eyes were wide open, 
 and he tried to move his lips, but no words came fonl. ; 
 but he pointed feebly with his hand to his parched moutii, 
 and Biddulph could not resist that mute appeal. 
 
 He pulled himself closer to Malcolm, and held the flask 
 containing the brandy r nd water to his lips. A gleam of 
 joy passed over the features of the apparently dying man, 
 and as he drank he revived — Biddulph having no heart tcj 
 withdraw the cup until it was empty, though he knew it 
 was probably the last chance gone of prolonging his own 
 life. 
 
 But he tried to speak cheerfully, and presently tied his 
 handkerchief to the branch of pine he had brought down 
 with him in his fall, and raised this up as best he could, 
 to endeavor to attract attention from the granite masses 
 on each side of the ravine where they lay, should search 
 be made for them. 
 
 But the hours passed away, and the sun grew hot, and 
 no help came. Malcolm Fraser sank into a half-stupor, 
 half-sleep, under the influence of the brandy and exhaus- 
 tion ; but for Biddulph there was no more rest, and he 
 now also was tormented with a burning thirst, and the 
 pain in his lower limbs became more intense. 
 
 It was a cloudless day ; the strip of blue sky visible from 
 where they were was of the deepest blue, and the breeze 
 crept through the dark pines, and the sun shone on the 
 little lake, changing it to a sheet of gold. Oh, could he 
 but reach it again, thought Biddulph, gazing at it with 
 dim, longing eyes. And the trickle of the streamlet 
 seemed to grow louder in his ears, tempting him, madden- 
 ing him, with vain desire once more to quench the con- 
 suming thirst which seemed to fill his whole being. 
 
 About noon the full rays of the sun began to pour upon 
 them, and Malcolm Fraser grew delirious, talking rapidly, 
 and waving his arms, fancying sometimes that he was at 
 home again at Airdlinn, and at others that he was pursu- 
 
A STKA'^'GE MESSAGE. 261 
 
 ing with relentless hate the man who was lying helpless 
 near him. 
 
 Hut there was one refrain always to his frenzied fan- 
 cies. ^'Nora^ Nora ! " — lie rcpealctl his hull-cousin's name 
 again and again, and Uiddiilpli listened, and understood, 
 lialf-pityingly, Ihjw deeply tliis love of his had been im- 
 bedded in tlie young man's heart. Tlien Malcolm began 
 to rave of thirst once more, piteously entreating Ijickhilph 
 to give him water, and looking at him witli bcsecciiing 
 eyes, from which the light of reason was now lied. 
 
 "I, too, am dying of thirst," answered Bidduiph, half- 
 bitterly, to one of these appeals, " but to save your life or 
 mine, I cannot drag myself another yard." 
 
 He thought tliis ; but his own intolerable sufferings 
 grew so great, and Malcolm's frantic cries so terrible, that 
 at last he determined tv; make one more effort to reach the 
 water. Each movement was now torture, and a deadly 
 ♦jeling of faintness and stupor began t(j steal ovei 'lim. 
 Still he went crawling on, dragging himself by slow degrees 
 nearer and nearer the sliining pool which lay before his 
 famished sight. But he never reached it ; an agonizing 
 pang shot from his broken leg, and a blindness came over 
 ids eyes, and the sound of the trickling stream ceased in his 
 dulled ears. 
 
 i 
 
 " I fear he is gone, poor fellow." Bidduiph heard tliese 
 words as in a dream, lying there like one dead, unable to 
 make any sign or movement, while Mr. Dalton bent over 
 him, and bathed his face and head with the water from the 
 little lake. 
 
 He was slow to revive. But Dalton had brought brand v 
 and restoratives, having become uneasy (in his calm way) 
 when his travelling companion did not return at nightfall 
 on the previous evening, as Bidduiph had told him he was 
 merely g<^ing for a walk among the hills. 
 
 To sea.-h for him during the night was impossible ; but 
 with the early dawn Dalton and others had gone out for 
 this purpose , and the handkerchief Biddiilfjli had hung on 
 the pine branch had attracted their attention to the iirtle 
 ravine, in which, about three o'clock in the afternoon, liiey 
 perceived the bodv of Bidduiph lying. 
 
 There was happily a track between the granite masses 
 to the ravine, wliich some of the men present knew, mdy 
 as quickly as possible, a stretcher was brought from the 
 
268 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 P^ 
 
 town, and Dalton at once proceeded to endeavor to revive 
 Biddulph, who after a time opened his eyes, and under- 
 stood that help had come at last. 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Dalton. as he held up Biddulph's 
 head and put brandy to his lips, " how did this happen ?" 
 
 For a minute or two Biddulph did not speak ; then he 
 said, slowly and painfully — 
 
 " It was an accident, and a young fellow I know is lying 
 yonder in a worse plight than I am. See after him, please, 
 Dalton, for he has a mother." 
 
 CHAPTER XUII. 
 
 ** FORCED BY FATE." 
 
 
 It was la*e in the afternoon when the two injured 
 Englishmen wera carried into the hotel at Glendive where 
 Biddulph was staying. By Biddulph's wish, Malcolm 
 Eraser was taken there also, though his condition was at 
 first believed to be hopeless, the lower part of his spine 
 being terribly hurt, and many of 'his ribs broken. 
 
 He was very, very ill, and Biddulph also for some days was 
 in great danger, and suffered intense'/ from the compound 
 fracture in his leg, the broken bone having terribly lace- 
 rated the flesh in his efforts to drag himself to find water. 
 But, to do Dalton justice, he even neglected his specimens 
 to nurse his friend. 
 
 "My dear Biddulph," he said, about a woek after "tlic 
 accident," as he sat one day by Biddulph's bedside, *' I have 
 no doubt now that you will pull through ; but as for that 
 young Scotchman, your friend, I think the prospect is very 
 black." 
 
 "Do you mean he will not recover?" asked Biddulph, 
 witli some feeling in his voice. 
 
 " He can never absolutely recover; the lower part of his 
 body is paralyzed from the injury to the spine ; but the 
 doctor says his left lung is injured, and this will probably 
 kill iiim. In my opinion, if you know his friends, they 
 should at once be communicated with." 
 
 Biddulph sighed, thinking of Mrs. Jock, and stirred 
 uneasily in bed. 
 
 " I know his people," he said slowly ; " this nev'3 will be 
 a terrible blow." 
 
A ST/tANCE A/RSSAGE, 
 
 369 
 
 " You need not put it in so acute a form to them as I 
 have expressed it to yon," said the calm Dalton. •' You can 
 tell them of the accident, and say he is severely injured. 
 This will break it to the unfortunate parents, who, I am 
 afraid, are certainly going to lose their sun. ' 
 
 And after reflecting on Dalton's advice, Biddulph came 
 to the conclusion it was but right that ^^ and Mrs. Fraser 
 should know, or at least have some hint, of Malcolm's 
 great danger. He decided, therefore, to write lo Nora 
 Stewart, but, anxious to spare them all additional pain, he 
 determined still to call it "an accident," and to do all he 
 could to screen the unhappy young man from any further 
 blame. He had written to Nora before he started on his 
 tour to the Yellowstone Park, and also to his aunt, Lady 
 Barbara ; he would write again, then, and tell Nora «f the 
 terrible mischance which had happened to her young 
 kinsman. 
 
 It was about ten days after that awful night of anguish 
 in the ravine among the hills that Biddulph onco more 
 saw Malcolm Fraser incc to face, l^y his request, ho was 
 cciiried to the room where the young Mighlander lay Iiclp- 
 less, and when Malcolm saw Iiim, a sudden Hush sjjrcad 
 over the sickly pallor of his skin. 
 
 Biddulph, on his part, was greatly shocked by the change 
 in Malcolm Frascr's appearance. The face had grown 
 hollow, and the eyer> large, bright, and wistful, and tiiere 
 was an unmistakable foreshadowing, Biddulph thought, of 
 the yet greater change to cutne. 
 
 "Well," he said, affecting a cheerfulness he could not 
 feel, "and how do you lincl yourself now, Fraser?" And 
 again that quick Hush rose to Malcolm's pale face. 
 
 "I am in less pain now," he answered in a low tone. 
 
 **\Vell, that is something. ! have asked to see you to- 
 day, because I have a few words to say to you," continued 
 Biddulph, somewhat nervously. 
 
 Malcolm's face winced, but he did not sj)eak. 
 
 " I wish what really happened among the hills that day 
 to be buried between you and me," went on Bid(iuli»h. 
 " Should it ever be known, it would but adil pani to those 
 —dear to us both." 
 
 The P is fell over the bright, eager blue eves that were 
 fixed on Biddulph's fare, as Malcohn listen^'d to these 
 words, and his thin white hands moved restlessly on the 
 
 coverlet. 
 
 " For your father and mother's sake, I wish this— and 
 
 " m \ 
 
 : .5; ', 
 
 jii^' 1; 
 
 -■Wk 
 
 % 
 
 II 
 
270 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 for Miss Stewart's," said Biddiilph, forcing out Nora's name 
 with a little effort. " I have written to tlieni to-day, and 
 I have told them that an accident occurred, and that you 
 were severely injured, but that I hope you arc a little better 
 now." 
 
 " I shall be no better," said Malcolm, suddenly and 
 bitterly; "I see it in the doctor's face, and the nurse's. 
 You have got your full revenge, Mr. Biddulph !" 
 
 ** God knows I wish for none ; and, though you have 
 wronged me unjustly, I freely forgive you." 
 
 "I would have killed you," said Malcolm, gloomily; 
 "and I sometimes feel as if I could kill you now, for I 
 am lying here a useless log all through you ! But it's no 
 good talking — it's all over with me — I'm done for ! " 
 
 The look of hopeless despair in the young man's face 
 as he uttered these last W(jrds touched Biddulph's heart. 
 
 ** I niost earnestly hope you may recover," he said, 
 "and for this reason — 1 am anxious you should have 
 further advice than can be procured here. As soon as 
 possil)le, I wish, both for your sake and mine, to get back 
 to New York. We can have sleeping cars all the way and 
 Mr. Dal ton will look after us." 
 
 Malcolm nade no answer ; he moved restlessly, and a 
 strange new ^istfulness came over his face. 
 
 " Let the past be forgotten between us," continued 
 Biddulph. "I am much older thnn you are, and have 
 been thinking it all over, and I know that this is the best 
 way to end our quarrel." 
 
 Still Malcolm did not speak, but he lifted his blue eyes, 
 and looked eagerly at Biddulph. 
 
 " If we move back to New York, vour father and mother 
 might perhaps join us there. You would like your mother 
 to nurse you, I am sure ? " 
 
 " But is there — ac/uviie, do you think ?" asked Malcolm, 
 with an anxious rinij in his voice he could not hide. 
 " Anrl — and I have no money for this l<jng journey." 
 
 "That is easily found," said Biddulph, smiling ; "and 
 you need not fee! yourself indebted to me, as your father 
 will repay me, you know, and for the present I can supply 
 you. Let us settle it, then — as soon as the doctor gives 
 us leave to travel, let us start — and we must carry hope 
 with us." 
 
 Again Malcolm's hands moved restlessly, for a great 
 8trui»:gle was goinsjf on in his heart. 
 
 " You are acting very generously," he said at length ; 
 
 u 
 
 II 
 
A STRA^rCrK MESSAGE. 
 
 »7I 
 
 ' "you must mean to 'heap coals of fire ' on my head, Mr. 
 Biddulph;" and he smiled a wan, forced smile. 
 
 ♦* I mean to do nothing uf the sort," answered Biddulph, 
 smiling also. *' I dare say we liave both been mistaken in 
 each other, and you must try to get well fur your mother's 
 sake." 
 
 Malcolm Fraser sighed wearily after Biddulph left him, 
 and lay there thinking, with a far-away look iu his eyes, 
 how fate had been too strong for him, and how how he 
 was forced to lean on the very man whose destruction he 
 had swore to bring about. 
 
 And a deep longing came over his heart also to look 
 once more on his mother's face. Not always hnd this 
 young man's breast been rent by the fierce passions which 
 of late had swayed his actions. Malcolm Fraser had been 
 a brigiit, high-spirited youth, until ids fatal and unrequited 
 love for Nora Stewart had changed his whole exixtcnce. 
 And now, lying weak and weary, some of the earlier and 
 tenderer feelings of his heart came back. 
 
 ** I should like to see my mother again — and Nora," h« 
 thouglu wistfully, remembering Mrs. Jock's unchanging 
 affection and devotion. Ah, what love had been like 
 her's ! None, Malcolm knew — none, at least, for liim. 
 Nora had never loved him, he understood now, or only 
 loved him as a brother, wiiile he had wasted on her all the 
 deep, passionate feelings of his young manhood. It was 
 very piteous ; and this longing for the sight of his mother's 
 face grew and grew as tiie weary days passed on, and a 
 faint hope rose within him that he still might live. 
 
 But the lower part of his body was completely paralTze(^, 
 and at times the injury to ids linig gave him great pain. 
 In the meanwhile Biddidph had written to Nora Stewart, 
 and told her that he had accidentally encountered Malcolm 
 Fraser, who had met with a most severe accident, and that 
 he was going to try to bring him back t© New York, as 
 soon as lie could be moved with any chance of safety. He 
 also told her that he himself had contrived to break his 
 leg by a tumble over one of the jirccipices near (rlendive, 
 but not a word of that fierce fight, for life on the granite 
 mass, nor the long hours of thirst and anguish spent in the 
 ravine. 
 
 Biddulph, in truth, felt only pity now for the young 
 roan whose life was crippled in its prime. 
 
 "He will never walk again," the doctor told him, and 
 only a hard heart could listen to such * doom unmov«d, 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
373 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 ?i 
 
 when Biddulph recalled to his mind the bright, handsome 
 young Highlander, whom he had met for the first time at 
 his father's house at Airdlinn. 
 
 " Periiaps it is wrong to talk of hope to him," Bid- 
 dulph said one day to l3alton, "for I believe he will not 
 live." 
 
 ** Why deprive him of any consolation ? " answered Dal- 
 ton, philosophically, who was, as usual, engaged in arrang- 
 ing his geological specimens. "To hope will do him Jio 
 harm, and will, no doubt, do us good, for it will help him 
 to bear the fatigue of the long journey. When a man ceases 
 to hope he soon ceases to live." 
 
 " Yet I have felt it die out of my heart," answered Bid- 
 dulph, gloomily. 
 
 " But it was probably not really quite dead," said Dalton, 
 looking up with his calm smile. ** When a man is youn<;^ 
 and in good health, the future may always have ia store 
 for him iiis heart's desire — he may only have to wait." 
 
 Biddulph did not speak ; the long vista of the iiuure wns 
 hidden from his view, and yet sometimes liopc did now 
 steal into his breast, and he would dream of tlie (L vs when 
 the life which lay between himself and NoraSiewrtrt would 
 pass away. And sometimes, too, that doubi of Natalie's 
 identity still disturbed his mind. 
 
 " It I live I shall see her again," he told hiuks-jlf many a 
 time as he lay at Glendive ; and he, too, cr'f'i'v ^ .stless io 
 go from the regions of the great Nortlnv si. iiiit before 
 they started on their journey, Dalton insisted on iuKilling 
 his original intention, and vi , h: d the fannjus Yellowstone 
 Park, with its fifty j_.:eysers», ns ; cturesque waterfalls, and 
 wondrous lakes. 
 
 There, where some famous artist has been said to ex- 
 claim, with regretful enthusiasm, that to portray the beau- 
 tiful tints everywhere around w.as beyond the reach of 
 human art, Dalton spent some of the most enjoyable days 
 of his life alone, though his friend lay sick and sad, and 
 was wearying to be gone. But Dalton did not put the 
 fretfulncss of any invalid in comparison with the grandeur 
 of nature. 
 
 *' My dear Biddulph," he said, on his return to Glendive, 
 " I shijuld never have forgiven myself if I had gone willi- 
 n\i's. visiting thes« wonders. I am sorry I have detained 
 you by loing so, but it could not be helped." 
 
 "Let us be ofif now, at least," answered Biddulph ; and 
 Ifalton regarded him in mild surprise, rcllecting how much 
 
A STRANG li MESSAGE, 
 
 «>« 
 
 he had given up for this man's sake, who certainly did not 
 seem as grateful as he ought to be. 
 
 However, they started at last, and everything tliat could 
 be done for Malcolm Eraser's comfort was done ; but as 
 he was carried out of tiic hotel to the railway carnage, 
 more than one woman looked after inm willi pitying eyes. 
 
 "Ah, poor fellow," they said to each other, **thcy arc 
 only carrying him to his grave ! " 
 
 
 F 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 ILL NK.WS. 
 
 It is well indeed for us poor children of cliange and 
 cliance that passing events are mercifully ludden from our 
 sight, unless we behold them with our mortal vision. The 
 sailor's wife sleeps while her huslnuid's death-cry rings 
 through the wild storm ; and Nora Stewart was sitting 
 smiling in her drawing-room when Hiddulph, whom siu; 
 loved so deeply, lay half dead in the deep ravine among 
 the hills, and when he dreamed there that she visited him 
 in an angel's garb. 
 
 She had received the letter that lie had written to teil. 
 her he was about to st.nrt on a tour through America with 
 Mr. Dnlton, and this letter liad given great relief t(> iirr 
 mind. He would be quite oulof Malcolm Frascr'sway, she 
 vainly supposed, when he was travelling, litthr gui'ssi'jg 
 with what fierce determination Malcolm liad f(<llowcd hiiii 
 from city to city, or of the terrible encounter that had takei 
 place at last between them. 
 
 Minnie Frascr still remained in town w Nora, and 
 Alick Phraser often visited at her house, thoi u he had nut 
 yet summoned up courage again to try his .rtmu^ by usk- 
 ing her to be his wife. Hut all the same • meant Lo do 
 so, and his annoyance was vt .y great, b( ' ause he began 
 really to believe that Glendoyne also con*<*.nplated wo.,.iug 
 Nora ; and, in truth, this idea was often lioating through 
 the good-looking Anglo-Indiati's biain, for iiis hcari, it 
 must be confessed, was not very greatly interest<;d in liie 
 matter. 
 
 But Nora was a charming woman, with a good fortune 
 and a very pleasant house, (ilcndoyne oftc reflected ; and 
 he liked to go there, and he hkcd also to .viUch the soft 
 
K4 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 i 
 
 blush which itole to !.liiiiie Fraser's fair cheeks when h« 
 did so. He knew very well that Miss Stewart did not 
 blush wlien he entered her drawing-room ; but then, slic 
 alw.iys smiled and seemed pleased to see him there. And 
 as for thinking of Minnie seriously, he self-argued, it uus 
 absurd ; she had no money, and he had no money, there- 
 fore it was out of tlie question. Hut all the same she was 
 a dear little girl, and h^^ liked to talk to lier, and, of course, 
 there could be no possible harm in that. 
 
 But there was more harm than Glendoyne allowed him- 
 Bclf to suppose. Minnie i raser, brought up among the 
 Scottish hills, knew very little of the world and its crooked 
 and uncanny ways. She knew, too, that Nora Stewart had 
 loved Mr, Biddulph, and been parted from him on the 
 very cvc of her marriage, and that she was not a likely 
 girl soon to forget her lost love. She naturally supposed, 
 therefore, that Glendoyne did not go to NoraV house ex- 
 clusively to see Nora. He did not seem to care to talk to 
 the Lees, and he did seem to care to talk to herself. 
 Poor little siin[)le Scottish maiden ! Minnie never thought 
 that Nora's fortune might be more precious in Glendoyne's 
 sight than her own tender heart, which he was fast steal- 
 ing awuy. Each day he grew more interesting to her, and 
 h«r timid admiration pleased Glendoyne, and made Nora's 
 house Rti'l more a2rreeal)lc to hi "i. 
 
 He went • ith them to exhibili(jns and picture-galleries, 
 but rarely into society. Glendoyne, in truth, hated crowded 
 "at homes," and took very little trouble to make himself 
 pleasant to indifferent acquaintances. He lived at his club, 
 and contemplated matrimony in a iazy, far-off fashion, 
 sometimes thinking cuitc seriously of Nora, and then al- 
 lowing Inmsclf toclrift away from the idea, and glide very 
 naturally into a semi-tender conversation with the |netly 
 girl wliom he always told himself it was absurd to think of. 
 
 But as the season moved on, an event occurred which 
 •omewhat quickened his languid pulses, and induced him 
 one day half seriously to approach the subject <jf marriage 
 with Nora Stewart. This event was nothing less than th.it 
 an additional fortune of fifteen thousand pounds was left 
 to Nora by iier late father's only sister. Miss Gust. The old 
 huly had been an invalid iind a rechise, and had taken very 
 little notice of her niece during her lifetime, and Nora used 
 always smilingly to declare tliat ** Aunt Bessie" was sure to 
 leave her money to some favorite curate. But she was 
 mistaken. Miss Gust left live thousand pounds to various 
 
 li 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 »7S 
 
 to 
 
 charities ; but the bulk ()f her comfortable fortuDC was be- 
 queathed to Lcononi Cust Stewart, for Miss Cust had never 
 approved of Nora entirely dropping her father's name. 
 
 Glendoyne h«ard of this bequest by linding Nora one 
 afternoon when he called, attired in deep mourning. lie 
 ventured to inquire into the cause, and listened to tlie 
 account of "Aunt Bessie's" legacy with a certain mild in- 
 terest and a mental prick ing-»ip of the ears. It was not 
 much, to be sure, but Glendoyne was actually poor, and 
 as he sat and gazed pensively at Nora with his half-pa- 
 thetic dark eyes, he thought he had never seen her look so 
 handsome before. 
 
 It might be that her black gown contrasted well with her 
 fair skin, or it might be the extra money, but (ilcndoync 
 nearly made up liis mind. Minnie Fraser was not there to 
 distract his attention, for she had gone to spend the day 
 out of town witli some friends of her mother's, and Nora 
 and Glendoyne were quite alone. It was an opportunity 
 he rarely found, and Glendoyne, after a few moments' con- 
 fideration, endeavored to take advantage of it. 
 
 "Do you — ah — think a man is better married or un- 
 married, Miss Stewart?" he asked in iiis slow way ; and 
 N(ua immediately answered, withgret'.t frankness : 
 
 " I think married, Lord Glendoyne." 
 
 *'Ah — that is some encouragement ; but it requires — ah 
 — so much money." 
 
 "Oh, no ; it requires some, of course ; but, if a man really 
 cares for a girl, nujney is a secondary consideration." 
 
 " But liow is the man to know that the girl cares ? " in- 
 quired Glendoyne, a dusky blush stealing over his usually 
 pale skin. 
 
 " That is easily found out, isn't it ? " said Nora, with a 
 little laugli, and a blush also. 
 
 " I wish I could find out." 
 
 " But have you tried ?" asked Nora, a little archly, for 
 r,iic always believed that Glendoyne really admired Minaio 
 
 Fraser. 
 
 " I was just thinking of—-ah — doing so." 
 
 Something in his manner made Nora begin to feel a 
 little nervous, and this emboldened Cilendoyiic. 
 
 " I wonder now~ah, Miss Stwwart, if you like me ?" 
 
 "Yes, of course I like you ; l)ut " 
 
 " But I mean for good, you know. Do you like me well 
 enough to take me 'for better or fur wurKC, ak they say m 
 the Prayer-book, don't they ? " 
 
 ,.| 
 
 m 
 
276 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 \ 
 
 if 
 
 fl 
 
 "I suppose you are joking?" said Nora, with some 
 gravity. 
 
 " Indeed, no ; never was more in earnest," answered 
 Glendoyne, stroking his heavy mustache with his slender 
 hand. 
 
 " I still believe you are joking ; but if you are not, I will 
 tell you the truth, Lord Glendoyne. You know I was 
 very nearly being married once, and that it was broken 
 off through no fault of — Mr. Biddulph, and I am not one 
 to quickly change." 
 
 Nora's voice broke and faltered as she uttered the last 
 few words, and Glendoyne was too gentlemanly to pursue 
 the subject. 
 
 " I can understnnd that," he said quietly ; and a minute 
 later he began to talk of something else, and parted with 
 Nora half an hour after withcut the slightest change in his 
 usually languid manner. 
 
 And he continued to go to her house the same as for- 
 merly, and Minnie Fraser never imagined for a moment 
 tiiat Glendoyne had actually thought of marrying Nora 
 Stewart. Lady Barbara Biddulph, however, guessed this, 
 for she was a shrewd woman, but knew also how to keep 
 her observations to herself. 
 
 And she understood that, though Nora bore herself so 
 bravely before the world, she was " not one to quickly 
 change." Little things told Lady-Barbara very plainly 
 that Nora's love for James Biddulph had not grown cold 
 during le long months of his absence. 
 
 " I wish that woman were only dead," Lady Bab fre- 
 quently reflected ; but she did not say this to Nora Stew- 
 art. Nora rarely indeed mentioned Biddulph's name to 
 his aunt ; she thought of him too much to make him the 
 subject of commonplace words. 
 
 And she began to grow exceedingly uneasy at not hear- 
 ing from liim as time went on, and also at receiving no let- 
 ter from Malcolm Fraser. She had sent Malcolm some 
 money which Alick Fraser had given her to forward to 
 him, and no acknowledgment of this had arrived from 
 him. And about the middle of June, Mrs. Jock Fraser 
 wrote to Nora, anxiously to inquire when she had last 
 heard from Malcolm. The last letter she had received was 
 the one written after the news that her marriage was 
 broken off had reached Malcolm, and to Nora's answer to 
 this Malcolm had vouchsafed no reply. 
 
 Nor;i was obliged V) tell Mrs. Jock this, but added that 
 
// STKAIVCE MESSAGE 
 
 277 
 
 she expected every duy to hear fnjin him. lint day* 
 passed away, and n(j letter came, aud before the end ot 
 June Nora determined to return to Scothmd. 
 
 One reason for this decision was to escape a prolonged 
 visit from Mrs. Conway-llope. Thoiigii this lady had left 
 Rossmore in a rage, siie did not actually mean to (quarrel 
 with Nora. She had written twice during the season to 
 offer to stay *' a few days " at Nora's house, but Nora had 
 replied she had no spare room at present, and Mrs. Con- 
 M way-Hope had found it impossible to go. When she 
 lieard, however, that Miss Cust had left an additional for- 
 tune to Nora, Mrs. Conway-Hope determined no longer 
 to be refused. 
 
 Nora received a letter one morning, asking ii" she might 
 arrive on the following day, as she was "passing thrcnigh 
 town, and hated hotels." ** If, my dear Nora, I receive no 
 answer to this, I shall expect I shall be welcome," read 
 Nora, with consternation, '* and I shall hope to see you 
 about twelve on Thursday." 
 
 Nora received this letter actually at lialf-past twelve 
 o'clock on Thursday. It was dated two days back, but as 
 Nora sprang up to send a tclegrai'i to stop her, a cab 
 drove to the door, and "Cousin Margaret" herself ap- 
 peared, in her limp black, and three minutes later was em- 
 bracing Nora. 
 
 "You would get my letter yesterday," she said, as she 
 pressed her gray-tinted visage against Nora's face. "Well, 
 my dear Nora, how are you ? You are not looking very 
 well, but what could we expect ? " and Mrs. Conway-Hope 
 
 sighed. 
 
 "I am fairly well," answered Nora, quickly; "and I 
 
 hope vou are well ? " 
 
 " I am fairly well, also, though I must sny I have felt 
 very much hurt not to be remembered in the will of Hcssie 
 Cust. I cannot understand it; I am her own cousin, and 
 I never neglected to send her a Christmas card, and even 
 an Easter one, and I wrote to her regularly, and I naturally 
 expected some little acknowledgment for all these atten- 
 tions. I undel-stand you have received a considerable 
 
 sum?" 
 
 "Fifteen thousand pounds." laughed Nora, "and I never 
 
 paid her any little attentiuns." 
 
 "She was a most eccentric person and exceedmglv dis- 
 agreeable, and set up to be so religious, too, though I must 
 sav 1 never saw any practical results of her piety. 
 
 ay 
 
•7» 
 
 A ."iTA'AiVCF. flrr.SSACE. 
 
 I' 
 
 * Poor old lady ! wc ons^lit to let Ijcr rest now." 
 
 "But you can uiiiiersiand Nora, I am sure, that I natu- 
 rally feel a little indignant. I tiiink people ought to re- 
 member their relations when they arc making their wills." 
 
 **But Aunt Bessie did, you know." 
 
 ** I at least have no reason to feel any respect for her 
 memory," said Mrs. Conway-Hopc, severely ; and Nora 
 soon found that the grievance of Miss Gust's will was a 
 very bitter one. 
 
 It made Mrs. Conway-Hopc more sour even than usual, 
 and was for ever rankling in her mind. Even poor Minnie 
 Frascr did not escape a passing stab. 
 
 "And how is your poor neither. Miss Frascr?" asked 
 Mrs. Conway- Hope, with a meaning sigh. 
 
 "She is very well, thank you," answered Minnie, blush- 
 ing scarlet. 
 
 " Ah ! it was very sad," said Mrs. Conway-Hope, shak- 
 ing her head ; and Minnie naturally felt this allusion to 
 her unfortunate brotlicr very deeply. 
 
 "And that dreadful woman. Lady Barbara Biddulph ; I 
 trust, my dear Nora, that you see nothing no7V of her ?" 
 
 " I frequently see her," replied Nora, with heightened 
 color ; " Lady Barbara is a great favorite of mine." 
 
 Mrs. Conway-Hope raised her eyebrows and her shoul- 
 ders with an expression as much as to say that words would 
 be poor to declare her feelings on the subject. In fact, 
 she was so disagreeable all around, that Nora confessed 
 to Minnie Frascr, before the first day of her visit was over, 
 that she really could not stand it. 
 
 " Let us leave town the day after to-morrow, Minnie ; 
 and if she offers to go with us to Sc(3tland, I shall just 
 simply refuse," said Nora ; and it was thus settled. 
 
 "You know Cousin Margaret, that we start for Rossmore 
 on Saturday," Nora told her visitor the next day at break- 
 fast. 
 
 "Do you really? I thought the painful associations 
 connected withtlie place would have been too recent, Nora. 
 I wonder you don't take a house at some south-country 
 watering-place instead, particularly when you have got all 
 this large sum of rearly money now at your command." 
 
 " I prefer my own house," said Nora, abruptly. 
 
 *' Still, dear, after all t!ie sad, indeed dreadful, circum- 
 stances which took place there in the winter " 
 
 Nora rose and walked out of the room, and Mrs. Conway- 
 Hopc looked after her with a sign, 
 
/f STKAiVUE M/'ISSACE. 
 
 279 
 
 " Poor dear Nora is terribly upset still, cvidontlv," she 
 said, turning to Minnie Fr.sscr. "Dr) vdii cvrr hear any- 
 thing- of the dreadful man wlio caused ail tiiis scandal and 
 trouble?" 
 
 " I believe Nora hears occasionally from Mr. Bidduiph : 
 but it is a subject that is never mentioned to her," replied 
 Miimie. 
 
 "Well, it IS certainly an unpleasant one for you all," 
 said Mrs. Convvuy-IIope ; but later in the day she found 
 she had gone a liltle too far, fur when she more than 
 hinted to Nora that she was quite ready to go with thcni 
 the next day to Scotland, Nora took not the slightest 
 notice of her veiled proposal. 
 
 •It will be very inc(uivenient for mo to leave hc're on 
 Saturday, my dear Nora," she presently suggested; "I 
 reck' A\ spending a week or ten days at h'ast with 
 
 you. \Vuuld you mind letting me remain (jver Sunday at 
 least ? " 
 
 '•Not in the least," answered Nora, "only there will be 
 no one in the Ikjusc but the charwoman, as I take all the 
 servants down with me." 
 
 "Could you not leave a couple of them for a day or 
 two?" 
 
 Nora finally agreed to leave one of th'" housemaids ; and 
 Mrs. Conway-llope having thus provided herself with free 
 quarters for a week or two — for she really had no inten- 
 tion of leaving earlier — she became a little more amiable ; 
 but both Nora and Minnie Fraser were still exceedingly 
 glad to think that they would soon be rid of her coiu[)any. 
 
 Thev had fixed to start on an eai ly train for the north, 
 but before they left town Nora received a very groat 
 shock. This was caused by the letter Biildulph iind wi ii- 
 len to her from the hott^l at Cleiulive, to tell her of Mal- 
 colm Eraser's dangerous condition. lie said as little 
 about his own injuries as possible, but Nora read his let- 
 ter .with pale checks and bated breath. Instantly her 
 mind turned to the extraordinary coincidence that both 
 Malcolm and Biddulj)h should be injuicd, and that they 
 should have met in the vallev of the Yellowstone River, 
 when Malcolm had expressed no intention of going there. 
 " He has followed James," thought Nora, with that quick 
 intuition oi the truth which wotnen possess. "He is 
 keeping^ something back. Oh, this is terrible, too ter- 
 rible!"" 
 
 She clasped her hands, and stood there thinking what 
 
 
 '■^: 
 
 :-i';? 
 

 #. 
 
 
 .o3:^^ 
 
 o. 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.! 
 
 1.25 
 
 1^ |2.8 
 
 2.5 
 
 1.8 
 
 1.4 IIIIII.6 
 
 <^ 
 
 /a 
 
 7 
 
 
 *> 
 
 ? 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 ^ 
 
 \ 
 
 •N? 
 
 \\ 
 
 % 
 
 V 
 
 
 ^i; 
 
 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 ^1> 
 
 C^ 
 

 .<? 
 
 ^ 
 
28o 
 
 A STRA^'GE MESSAGE. 
 
 she should do. "I tliink his parents should know at 
 once," Biddulph had written, "for I sliall not disguise 
 from you that the doctor here ha3 a very bad opinion of 
 his case. I shall try to get liiin back to New York, and 
 both you and Mi. and Mrs. Fraser may depend upon my 
 doing everything that is possible for him ; but the injury 
 to his spine is very serious." 
 
 Had they fought, and had Biddulph shot him ? Nora 
 asked herself, with a sinking heart. And how could she 
 teH the mother this, who had already become so anxious 
 about her son ? 
 
 "Poor Malcolm — poor boy, poor boy J" and Nora's 
 tears fell fast. All her young cousin's hot faults were 
 forgiven and forgotten now, for Nora knew Biddulph 
 would not have written as he had done if there had been 
 much ground for hope. And if Biddulph's hand had 
 done this ? But no, this could not, could not be I 
 
 Nora tried at first to disguise her agitation from Minnie 
 Fraser, who came into the room while she was still stand- 
 ing with Biddulph's letter in her hand, but Minnie in- 
 stantly perceived something was wrong. 
 
 "What is the rr.atter, Nora?" she asked, anxiously. 
 "Nothing has happened at home, has there ?" 
 
 " No, dear," faltered Nora. 
 
 "Then, it is something about poor Malcolm," cried 
 Minnie. " I see it is, Nora ! Oh ! what has happened ? 
 lie — he — is not " 
 
 " He has had an accident, and is badly injured," said 
 Nora, as Minnie paused. "I've had a letter from Mr. Bid- 
 dulph, and he has met Malcolm somewhere in the neighbor- 
 hood of the YoUowstone Valley., and — and he is going to 
 take him back to New York." 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph ! " repeated Minnie, and her face flushed, 
 ** Oh, Nora, what could they have to do with each other ? 
 Poor Malcolm hated Mr. Biddulph. There is a secret in 
 all this." 
 
 "You think " 
 
 "They've quarrelled, and Malcolm has been hurt. Oh! 
 what will mother say ? This will just break her heart." 
 
 Minnie began to sob aloud, and Nora, too, was greatly 
 overcome. That this idea should have occurred to Minnie 
 also seemed like confirmation of her own fears. And Bid" 
 dulph ? Perhaps he was keeping back his own danger out 
 of tender consideration for her, Nora now thought with 
 blanched cheeks and a sinking heart. 
 
 for 
 
 can 
 whl 
 
 fori 
 
 an( 
 col 
 
 gin 
 
 ey( 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE: 
 
 281 
 
 "What shall we do, Minnie? "she asked. "Telegraph 
 for your father, or go home ? " 
 
 "Tlien poor mother would be left alone if my father 
 came here, and that would be so dreadful for her. Let us 
 go home as we intended, Nora, and then father will decide 
 what it will be best to do." 
 
 They settled this, and went on with their preparations 
 for leaving town in silent anxiety and grief. 
 
 "Don't let us tell Mrs. Conway-Hopc," Minnie said; 
 and Nora spoke no word to ** Cousin Margaret" of Mal- 
 colm Frasen That lady, however, noticed that both the 
 girls had evidently been greatly disturbed, and that their 
 eyelids were red and swollen with tears. 
 
 " I hope you have had no ill news, my dear Nora ? " 
 she asked, curiously ; but Nora made no answer, and Mrs. 
 Conway-Hope instantly decided that her conjecture had 
 been right. 
 
 " It is something about that wretched Biddulpli, I dare 
 say," she thought ; " or perhaps young Fraser. Oh, well, 
 they may keep their secrets if they like." 
 
 And they did keep their secret, and started on their 
 journey without satisfying Mrs. Conway-IIope's strong 
 desire to know what was the matter They sat with their 
 hands clasped together in the railway carriage, and tried 
 to speak (each for the other's sake) more hopefully than 
 they felt. 
 
 " Father and mother are sure to go to New York," Minnie 
 said ; " mother I know will never bear to think that Mal- 
 colm is very ill, and that she is not near to nurse him." 
 
 " If they go," answered Nora, with heaving breast and a 
 sudden flush dying her pale face, "I shall go, too. I — I 
 must see poor Malcolm again." 
 
 "To see you would do iiim more good than anything 
 else, Nora, Poor Malcolm ! he cared for no one as he 
 cared for you." 
 
 "And I cared for him too, Minnie, but I thought of him 
 as a boy, a brother. But he may get well still ; the doctors 
 at New York may bring him round. We must hope for 
 the best, dear." 
 
 "Yes ;" and again Minnie's blue eyes grew full of tears. 
 
 He was her only brother, and these two had grown up 
 together side by side, and made the old home bright, until 
 the fatal passion had seized on Malcolm which had 
 destroyed him. 
 
 They travelled the whole day, rmd it was late at night 
 
 ■(1 
 
 \m\ 
 
 m 
 
2S2 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 hi 
 
 when they reached the little Highland station nearest 
 Rossmore, and found Jock Fraser's friendly face waiting 
 for them there. 
 
 "Well, my dears," he said, going up to the door of the 
 railway carriage, and kissing tiiem each heartily as he 
 handed them out. He was glad to have his little Minnie 
 back again, and he was fond of Nora Stewart ; but pres- 
 ently he noticed that Nora looked very pale and sad, and 
 that Minnie also seemed ill at ease. 
 
 " You are both far too tired," he said, in his kindly way. 
 " If it wasn't that mother would like to see you, Minnie, I 
 would ask Nora to give you a bed, and not take you across 
 the loch to-night." 
 
 **Come with us to Rossmore, Jock," said Nora ; " I've 
 got something to tell you." 
 
 Jock Fraser's brown face instantly flushed, and an 
 anxious thought for his son crept into his heart. 
 
 " Nothing about " he said, in a low pained tone, and 
 
 paused. 
 
 "Wait until we get to Rossmore," whispered Nora; 
 and scarcely a word was spoken by the three in the short 
 drive to Nora's home. When they reached it, Jock Fraser 
 drew Nora into the dining-room and closed the door 
 behind them, as the servants were bringing in the lug- 
 gage. 
 
 "What is it, Nora my dear?" he asked, anxiously. 
 " Not surely about my poor boy ?" 
 
 "Malcolm has had an accident, Jock," faltered Nora; 
 **and — and Mr. Biddulph has written to tell me about it. 
 I got the letter this morning." 
 
 "' Biddulph V repeated Jock, in great surprise and 
 agitation. 
 
 " Yes ; they met, it s^ems, somewhere near the valley of 
 tlie Yellowstone River, and it was there Malcolm's 
 accident occurred. But you had better read Mr. Bid- 
 dulph's letter — thife is it ;" and Nora piat it into his hand, 
 and scarcely dared to look at the father's face when he 
 read the words, which seemed to him like a death-sentence 
 to his only son. 
 
 " My God ! " he cried, and grew pale, and his hands 
 trembled. 
 
 " We must try to hope," said Nora, who was deeply 
 moved ; " he is young and strong. By this time I hope 
 he will be back to New York, and the doctors there may 
 be able to cure him." 
 
 B 
 
 <( 
 
 poo 
 
 (( 
 
 me. 
 
 (( 
 
 saw 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 a«3 
 
 \ l.'l 
 
 and 
 
 poor 
 
 But Jock shook his hcnd. 
 
 "Wiiowill tell his mother?" he groaned. "Oh, my 
 
 Dor Jeanie ! " 
 
 " He must have fallen down some cliff, I suppose." 
 
 " But how did he get tiiere ? " asked Jock with his 
 white, dry lips. "Where did Malcolm get the money to 
 go on sucii a long and expensive journey, and why were 
 we not told ? There is some secret, Nora ; Biddulph is 
 keeping something back." 
 
 " Your brother Alick sent him some money through 
 me," said Nora. 
 
 *'But why should he go to the Yellowstone Valley? 
 And Biddulph, it seems he is hurt too. Nora, can these 
 two have fought ? " 
 
 Nora did not speak ; she looked up in Jock's face, and 
 saw what she feared. 
 
 " Oh, my poor boy ! " said Jock, greatly overcome ; and 
 he turned awfjy his liead. He was too just a man to 
 blame Biddulph, even if this were so ; it had been his 
 rash, headstrong son who had brought this on himself, 
 Jock at this moment felt convinced. 
 
 **Mr. Biddulph, I am sure," said Nora, "would never 
 willingly have injured Malcolm, but Malcolm wrote to me 
 in very bitter terms about him after m.y marriage was 
 broken off, and he may " 
 
 "Have forced Biddulph to fight him? Yes;" and 
 Jock covered his face with his hand, and then sat wearily 
 down. 
 
 " Dear Jock," said Nora, with tender pity, laying her 
 hand on her half-cousin's shoulder. 
 
 Then Jock looked at her, with his wet, brown, pathetic 
 eyes. 
 
 ' " It's his mother I'm thinking of, Nora. God \'nows 
 both our hearts have been nigh broken as it is, but this 
 will finish it, I think ; it will kill his mother." 
 
 "It may not be so bad." 
 
 "Biddulph would never have written this"— and Jock 
 pointed to the open letter lying on the table— "if he 
 thought the lad would live. But we must go to him, if 
 he's alive still. I'll take Jeanie to New York, but wc must 
 telegraph to Biddulph first. Where did he stay ?" 
 
 "At the Fifth Avenue Hotel, in Madison Square; and 
 he will, no doubt, return there." 
 
 " I'll telegraph to-morrow, then." 
 
 " And, Jock, if you and Jeanie go to New York, I should 
 
 ff:! 
 
 ''; \\ 
 
 1 
 i ■-'If 
 
 ^.1 
 
 ' 1 
 
 i 
 
 ^ f'^ 
 
 1 
 
 a 151' 
 
 mm 
 
 'VISKIBk 
 
 ip— 
 
 \ 
 
2S4 
 
 Af STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 u 
 
 I — I too should like to 
 
 like to go with you," said Nora, 
 see poor Malcolm again." 
 
 Jock did not speak ; again he lifted his eyes and looked 
 sadly in her face. He was too shrewd not to know Nora's 
 motive for wishing to go with them, 'It's not for tlie 
 poor boy's sake," he thought, but without any bitterness, 
 for the kind laird knew that Malcolm's love had ail been 
 wasted. 
 
 " Well, my dear," he said, a few moments later, and he 
 rose, "I must go to poor Jeani« now. Keep Minnie with 
 you to-night ; Jeanic and I will bear it best alone." 
 
 Nora had no heart to detain l.im, nor to speak any more 
 consoling words. She went with him to the room door, 
 and kissed him. 
 
 " If I can do anything, Jock, send for mc," she said, in a 
 low tone ; and he nodded and wert away with bowed head 
 and pallid face, to tell his wife the mournful news. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 
 "our one boy." 
 
 The next morning, before Nora was up, a note arrived 
 for her from Airdlinn. It was from Jock Fraser, and Nora 
 read it with deep pity. ^ ^^ 
 
 "Dear Nora," 
 
 " Will you come here as soon as possible, and 
 bring Biddulph's letter with you, for poor Jeanie is in a 
 dreadful state, and insists upon seeing it. . She wishes to 
 start for New York this morning, but I must go to Glas- 
 gow first and telegraph to Biddulph, to know // it will be of 
 any avail^ before I allow her to do this. If it is too late to 
 see our poor boy alive, it would but give her useless pain. 
 It is very terrible to me to see her. 
 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 " J. Fraser." 
 
 About an hour after receiving this, Nora and Minnie 
 started for Airdlinn, arriving there in the dewy freshness 
 of the morning; and while all nature was smiling outside 
 the gray old house by tii3 blue loch, inside the unhappy 
 
t-l 
 
 A ST/^AXG/C MESSAGE. 
 
 2S5 
 
 mother was walking up and down the bedroom, in a con- 
 dition truly pitiable to beh(>ld. 
 
 Jock Fraser met Nora in the hall with a sorrowful, worn 
 face, and silently clasped her hand. 
 
 *• How is Jeanie ?" whispered Nora. 
 
 "About as ill as she can be, I think," answered Jock. 
 " I've sent for Alexander, and you, my dear, will you stay 
 with her while I go to Glasgow?" 
 
 "Yes, of course I will stay, Jock." 
 
 " It's a terrible business, but it's no use going to New 
 York — if " And Jock Fraser turned away his head. 
 
 "We must hope for better news." 
 
 " Yes ; and, Nora, bear with poor Jeanie, even if she is 
 unjust a bit to Biddulph. She is broken down with grief, 
 you know, and may say things she should not ; still " 
 
 " Do not be afraid, Jock ; I feel too much for her," an- 
 swered Nora, with faltering tongue and dim eyes. She 
 in truth felt worn and weak, for she had spent hours and 
 hours of sleepless anxiety, thinking of Biddulph. It was 
 "not for the poor boy's sake," as Jock Fraser had truly 
 thought, that she was grieving most deeply. Biddulph 
 had admitted that he also was injured, though he has 
 made as light as possible of his own sufferings. 
 
 " They have fouglit," Nora had told herself again and 
 again durin^g the night, "and James also is wounded, 
 though he has tried to spare me." 
 
 This idea filled Nora's heart with a strange yearning to 
 look once more upon his face. But she did not admit 
 even to h«rself that she wished to go to New York to see 
 Biddulph. It was "poor Malcolm," whose hand she 
 hoped to clasp once more before he died, that would take 
 her there, she told herself ; and she determined to go if 
 Mr. and Mrs. Fraser went. 
 
 " Come up to Jeanie, now," said Jock, a moment later ; 
 and he led the way to his wife's room. 
 
 Nora had been prepared to find Mrs. Jock in bitter dis- 
 tress, but was scarcely prepared for the mournful sight 
 that now met her gaze. Mrs. Jock, dressed in a white 
 dressing-gown, with her fair grizzled hair pushed back dis- 
 orderly from her brow, and her blue eyes fixed, wide- 
 open, staring as it were into distance, was pacing up and 
 down her bedroom like a woman bereft of reason. And 
 as her husband and Nora entered, she stopped abruptly, 
 and at once addressed Nora. 
 
 "Have you brought it?" she said, her haggard face 
 
 ^i: 
 
 A ; i 
 
 '^: lii 
 
 m 
 
 n 
 
286 
 
 A st:<ance message. 
 
 iliishing for a moment as if with intense indignation. 
 " Have you bioiiglit tine letter from the man wlio has 
 killed my son ? " 
 
 " Hush, Jeanie ! do not talk thus," said Jock Eraser, 
 soothingly. 
 
 *' Is the truth never to be spoken ? " answered Mrs. 
 Frascr, passionately. ** Nora Stewart knows it is true, 
 and you know it is true ! Biddulph has murdered my 
 boy — murdered my boy ! " And she wrung her hands to- 
 gether, and then fell upon the bed in a paroxysm, a very 
 agony of grief. 
 
 "Oh, dear Jeanie, do not give way thus," said Nora, go- 
 ing up to her and laying her hand on her shoulder. 
 
 But Mrs, Jock started, and pushed away Nora's hand as 
 if tiie touch had stung her. 
 
 " Don't come near me," she said, ** for it is all through 
 you ! For love of this man you first broke Malcolm's 
 heart, and now you have killed him between you." 
 
 "You are unjust, Jeanie, and forget what Nora did 
 for poor Malcolm," said Jock Fraser. 
 
 "What she did for him!" cried the wretched mother, 
 turning round and facing her husband. " Yes, I'll tell you 
 what siie did ! She taught him to love her, encouraged 
 him to love her, till this man came, and then she turned 
 away. Don't try to deceive me with soft words any 
 longer," continued the unhappy woman, beginning once 
 aio-e lier restless pacings ; " this is the truth, and now the 
 Ciiu has come ! " 
 
 "Malcolm may get well, Jeanie," said Nora, gently. 
 
 "He shall have his mother at least beside him ; he has 
 his mother still ! " and Mrs. Jock clasped her hands to- 
 gether. "Jock, get things ready; we must start at once, 
 you know — we must not lose an hour." 
 
 "We can't start while you are in such a state, Jeanie ; 
 try to compose yourself, my dear," said Jock Fraser. 
 
 "How can I?" she answered, "when I think " 
 
 And again she wrung her hands convulsively together, 
 and looked wildly up in her husband's face. But when 
 she met Jock's sad brown eyes, and read the unspoken 
 grief there, her mood suddenly changed. 
 
 " Forgive me," she said ; and went up to him, and clung 
 to his arm. ^'Forgive me, Jock ; but J am only a weak 
 woman, you know, and — and I loved him so, our one boy, 
 our darling son." 
 
 "Yes, dear; but grief should not make you unjust," 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 287 
 
 ^nation, 
 ho lias 
 
 Fraser. 
 
 ;d Mrs. 
 is true, 
 red my 
 ands tu- 
 , a very 
 
 ora, go- 
 hand as 
 
 :hroiigh 
 ilcolm's 
 
 ora did 
 
 mother, 
 tell you 
 Du raged 
 turned 
 ds any 
 ig once 
 low the 
 
 tly. 
 
 he has 
 nds to- 
 it once, 
 
 Jeanie ; 
 
 IX. 
 
 M 
 
 get her, 
 t when 
 spoken 
 
 \ clung 
 1 weak 
 ne boy, 
 
 mjust," 
 
 answered Jock, gently kissing his wife's cheeks. "See 
 how you are distressing poor Nora, wiio lias been so kind 
 to our children." 
 
 Nora's tears were now flowing fast, and Mrs. Jock, see- 
 ing this, and moved perhaps by her husband's words, held 
 out her hand. 
 
 "Don't mitid me, Nora; I don't kncnv what I'sv doing 
 or saying, I think. I— I may be unjust, as Jock says; 
 but " 
 
 " Only try to take comfort, Jeanie, and hope for the 
 best," said Nora, grasping the hand extended to her. 
 "In his letter, Mr. Biddulph says you may depend upun 
 him taking the greatest care of Malcolm, and I'm sure he 
 will do everything for him that he can." 
 
 " May I sec his letter ? " 
 
 For a moment Nora hesitated, and then drew Hiddulph's 
 letter from the pocket of her dress, which Mrs. Fraser 
 eagerly grasped in her trembling hand. And, strange, as 
 she read she seemed to gain hope. 
 
 "His spine?" she repeated, quoting the letter; "but 
 many people recover, and live for years at h^ast, with 
 injuries to the spine. We must start at once, Jock ; get to 
 Liverpool to-day." 
 
 At this moment Dr. Alexander rapped at the room door, 
 and entered, looking sadly enough from one parent to the 
 other, and silently took Nora's hand. 
 
 "Ye've had bad news from the laddie, I hear, Mrs. 
 Jock ?" he said, with infinite tenderness of tone. 
 
 * He has had an accident," she answered, eagerly ; "he 
 has hurt his spine. But people can live with injured 
 spine^, can't they, doctor?" 
 
 *'Na doot; and the laddie's young and Strang. Ye 
 must keep up yer heart, Mrs. Jock." 
 
 "We are going to Liverpool to-day, and from there to 
 New York. We'll soon be there," she said. 
 
 " Ye're na fit to travel to Liverpool to-day. Let Jock 
 go to Glasgow, and telegrapii to New York to ask if 
 they've arrive yet," said the doctor, who had received a 
 hint from Jock Fraser about what he was to advise. 
 "Miss Nora Stewart here will stay wi' ye while Jock's 
 away, and I'll gi' ye a draught so 'that yc'U ha' a bit o' 
 sleep to frishen ye up for yer journey." 
 
 After some difficulty, Mrs. Jock was persuaded to fol- 
 low this advice. Jock Fraser started for (Tlas^n)\v. and ' 
 telegraphed from thence to Biddulph, Fifth Avenue Ho- 
 
288 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 tel, New York, and waited in Glasgow until the reply 
 arrived, it was as follows, so Juck liad some Ijope lo take 
 back to the unhappy mother at Airdlinn : 
 
 "Arrived safely at New York. M. bore journey better 
 than we expected ; is looking eagerly forward to seeing 
 his parents. " Biddulph." 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 ONCE AGAIN. 
 
 One morning, about a fortnight after Biddulph had 
 dispatched his telegram to Jock Fraser, in a private 
 sitting-room, in the Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York, two 
 gentlemen were talking and speculating rather anxiously 
 about his expected arrival there. 
 
 These two were Biddulph and Dalton ; the latter having 
 just returned from a visit to Malcolm Fraser's sick-room. 
 
 " I don't think that poor young fellow looks so well this 
 morning," said Dalton, in his calm way, approaching the 
 couch where Biddulph was lying, which was placed close 
 to one of the windows of the room, out of which Biddulph 
 had been gazing vaguely on the gardens in Madison 
 Square, and on the fountain playing in the midst. 
 
 " What ? " said Biddulph, turning sharply round. 
 
 " Unless his father and mother make haste, I doubt 
 very much tliat they will see him alive," continued Dalton, 
 ** I don't like his looks, and he seerhs very weak." 
 
 " The doctors will not have seen him yet, I suppose ? " 
 asked Biddulph, anxiously. *' If they do not come in half 
 an hour, we had best send for Dr. Lester, Dalton. What 
 does the nurse say?" 
 
 ** She says he is very restless, and that he is pining to 
 see his mother." 
 
 " Poor boy ! it's a sad case." 
 
 ** Yes ;" and then Dalton retired into a corner of the 
 room, and, drawing a key from his pocket, unlocked a box 
 which was standing there, and stood gazing contempla- 
 tively at the treasures it contained. 
 
 These were his geologic specimens, and were more 
 interesting in Dalton's sight than the young life which he 
 deemed drawing near a close. He took out a piece of a 
 petrified stump, once part of a great tree, now apparently 
 transformed into solid quartz, and examined it with pro- 
 
bett 
 
 cr 
 
 A STKAXCE MKSSAC/':. 
 
 289 
 
 found attention, and then carried it across to Biddulph's 
 coucli. 
 
 "Tiie petrified stun.p from wliicii I chipped tliis," he 
 said, " was seven feet in diarncLcr, and was standing erect 
 in tlie s(jil, where it seemingly once grew." 
 
 But Biddulph failed to show any interest. 
 
 '• 1 am anxious about Malcolm Fraser," he said, after 
 glancing one moment at the petrifaction in Dalton's hand ; 
 "I think I should like to see him." 
 
 '* My dear Biddulph, you know Dr. Lester said you 
 were to move about as little as possible ; and seeing the 
 poor fallow can do him no good." 
 
 "Still " began Biddulph, restlessly. But at this 
 
 moment a waiter rapped at the room door, and brouglit in 
 a card, and handed it to Biddulph. He glanced at it, and 
 gave a quick exclamation. 
 
 "It is Mr. Fraser, Dalton — Mr. Fraser of Airdlinn ! 
 They have arrived, then. Is there a lady with this gentle- 
 man ?" he inquired of the waiter. 
 
 " There are two ladies, sir," answered the waiter ; 
 "English ladies." 
 
 "Tv.j? Ah, to be sure, the poor fellow's mother and 
 sister. Will you go to them, Dalton, and explain how my 
 broken leg prevents my going to receive then^. ? And 
 then take them to Malcolm Fraser's room — and don't tell 
 them you know quite how really ill he is." 
 
 *' I shall go at once," answered Dalton; but before 
 so he carefully deposited his petrified stump back to its 
 place in his box of treasures, and locked it, and pocketed 
 the key. 
 
 Then he u^ent to receive Mr. and Mrs. Fraser, and Bid- 
 dulph was left alone. He felt not a little excited and up- 
 set, knowing how terrible would be the shock to the fond 
 mcther to see her handsome, stalwart young son trans- 
 formed into a hopeless cripple. For Malcolm Fraser had 
 never recovered the use of his lower limbs, and would 
 never walk a step again on earth, all the doctors had told 
 Biddulph. 
 
 "Poor Mrs. Fraser !" he thought compassionately, and 
 he siglied. Biddulph himself was also greatly changed, 
 for his face v^ras pale and haggard, and his hair had grown 
 slightly gray at the temples, and altogether he looked an 
 altered man. He had, in truth, suffered terribly from the 
 laceration of the flesh bvthe broken bones of his leg, when 
 he had dra<r£red himse'li to seek water to save Malcolm 
 
 ^9 
 
 tl*.*f 
 
 
 
290 
 
 A STRAI^IGE MRSSAGI'\ 
 
 Fr.iscr from pcrishino^ by tliirst. lie used crutclies wlien 
 he left his couch, and his leg vv.is still in splints ; and he 
 liad grown thin, and ten years older looking than when ho 
 liad tirst stood by Nora Stewart's side amid the Scottish 
 hills. 
 
 Perhaps a quarter of an hour passed, and then Dalton 
 again opened the room door, and Biddulph looked eagerly 
 toward him. 
 
 " Well," he asked, " liave you taken them to his room ?" 
 
 '* Yes," answered Dalton, with a quiet smile ; "and now 
 I am bringing a visitor to see you. There is a young lacy 
 outside in the corridor here, who wishes to see you — Miss 
 Stewart." 
 
 "J/m 6'/<?7£/i7r/.^" repeated Biddulph, and his pale face 
 grew paler, and then flushed. " Where is she — where " 
 
 ** She is here," said Dalton, still smiling, opening the 
 room door a little wider ; and then, pale too, and deeply 
 agitated, Nora appeared, and with faltering steps drew 
 near Biddulph's couch, who half rose, holding out both his 
 bauds. 
 
 '* You did not expect to see me," said Nora, nervously, 
 with heaving breast, and downcast eyes. ** I — I came with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Eraser to see poor Malcolm. I — I thought 
 I should come and soeak to you, while they first see 
 liim." 
 
 " I shall go and see after some refreshment," remarked 
 Dalton, considerately, and he cljsappeared ; and then Nora 
 lifted her eyes, and looked in Biddulph's changed face. 
 
 She gave a half-cry, and drew a little nearer to him. 
 
 "Oh, James," she said, clasping his hand with both her 
 trembling ones, "you, too, are very ill! I am glad I 
 came." 
 
 " I am much better," answered Biddulpli, who was 
 deeply moved. " I have a broken leg, you know, and have 
 gone through a lot of pain ; you see me greatly changed, 
 I dare say ?" 
 
 " Yes," she said, looking at him, With her dark eyes full 
 of the old tenderness ; "and you did not tell me." 
 
 ** I thought it was best not to worry you more than I 
 could help," said Biddulph, trying to smile. " Poor Mal- 
 colm Eraser's condition was enough ill-news at once." 
 
 " Is he any better, do you think .'' " 
 
 Biddulph shook his head. 
 
 " He will never be any better, Nora," he said, sadly. " I 
 am glad that his father and mother have arrived ; he 
 
 wishc 
 
 will n 
 u P, 
 
 "If 
 " It 
 came 
 great 
 
A STJiANGE MESS A OK. 
 
 291 
 
 wished to see them so much, poor fellow ; but I fear it 
 will not be for long." 
 
 "Poor Malcolm !" 
 
 "It's a terrib'- 'nisincss ; I feel so much for his mother." 
 
 " It has been v.. ;adful to be with her since the news 
 came ; but after your telegram arrived she has cherished 
 great hope." 
 
 " He was better when I sent that than he is now ; I fear 
 there is little hope now." 
 
 "And— and it was an accident?" asked Nora, tremb- 
 lingly. 
 
 "An accident among the precipices in the valley of the 
 Yellowstone River. Malcolm Fraser got a tremencUjiis 
 fall there, and injured his spine so badly that it was sup- 
 posed he was going to die." 
 
 " And you heard of it ? " inquired Nora, with more C(Mifi- 
 dence. 
 
 "Yes," answered Biddulph, briefly; "I was staving iit 
 the same place." 
 
 "And you have been very kind to him," said Nora, 
 again raising her dark eyes to his. - 
 
 "I have done what I could, of course, but it is not 
 much. He has seen several of the leading doctors here, 
 and their verdict is not reassuring." 
 
 Nora sighed, and then there was a minute or two of 
 embarrassed silence. These two, who had thought of each 
 other almost every moment of time since they had j)arte(l, 
 now felt that a strange new feeling of shyness had grown 
 up between them. They could not forget the past, in tlic 
 chill present ; and presently Blddulph sighed also, and 
 abruptly turned away his head. 
 
 " I have quite a gay view from here, as you see," he 
 said, trying to speak indifferently. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 But two waiters happily at this instant came to their 
 relief. Dalton had ordered lunch for the travellers to be 
 brought up to Biddulph's sitting-room, thinking that under 
 the circumstance'3 both Mr. and Mrs. Fraser vvould prefer 
 this to the public table. And a few minutes later, he also 
 entered, and in his placid way began to talk to Nora of 
 New York, comparing it with the other American cities 
 through which they had journeyed. 
 
 While they were speaking, Jock Fraser came into the 
 room, and went straight up to Biddulph, and warmly shook 
 his hand. 
 
 ^l\ 
 
 •1 
 
293 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 ^0 
 
 **I do not know how to thank you enough, Mr. Bid- 
 dulph, ' he said, in a voice husky with emotion, "for your 
 great kindness to our poor boy." 
 
 " Do not speak of it, Mr. Fraser," answered Biddulph ; 
 "anyone under the circumstances would have done what 
 they could. How do you think he looks ?" 
 
 Poor Jock slightly shook liis head. His honest brown 
 eyes were red-rimmed, and his face showed all the traces 
 of recent tears. He had, in truth, fairly broken down at 
 the touching meeting between the mother and son ; 
 for when Mrs. Jock, trembling, agitated to such a degree 
 that her limbs seemed almost to refuse their office, iiad 
 first entered Malcolm's room, he had stretched out his 
 arms with a kind of cry. 
 
 " Mother ! " 
 
 The next moment she was beside him, had clasped him 
 to her breast, and v/as passionately kissing the white face, 
 which she had last seen so healthful and so brown. 
 
 "My Malcolm — my best-loved," she murmured ; "at last 
 I see you again ! " 
 
 The intense yearning love that was expressed in these 
 words was very pathetic. Neither spoke again for a mo- 
 ment or two, and then Malcolm, looking fondly at his 
 mother's face, said simply : 
 
 " I am so glad you have come, mother — and you, fa- 
 ther ; " and he held out his hand to Jock Fraser, who 
 clasped it with his stalwart grasp, and then looked at his 
 boy's changed face with a smothered sigh. 
 
 Malcolm had always been handsome, the pride and dar- 
 ling of the two who now stood looking at him, with chill 
 dread in their hearts ; and he was handsome still. Almost 
 a beautiful face this, with regular features, curling chest- 
 nut hair, and blue eyes, which once had been bold and 
 smiling, but were now unutterably sad. For he knew — 
 lying there in his young manhood — that in this life, he 
 would walk no more. He was hopelessly paralyzed, and 
 unable to move any part of his body below the waist. 
 It was a melancholy sight even to an indifferent stran- 
 ger ; but to t'""^ mother on whose breast he had slept 
 when a little babe, it was the very rending of her heart- 
 strings. 
 
 *' I hoped so much that you would come," said Malcolm, 
 putting his hand in hers. 
 
 "Come ! " she echoed. " My darling, I would have gone 
 to the world's end to look once more on your dear face ! " 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 293 
 
 d ; " at last 
 
 And again she passionately kissed him, and he felt her hot 
 tears upon his cheek. 
 
 No wonder that Jock Fraser turned away with dim eyes 
 and quivering- lips, and went to the window of the room, 
 and stood looking out on the animated scene beyond, 
 thinking all the while of the wrecked hopes that had'come 
 to so sad a close. Then, presently, he heard Malcolm 
 speak to his mother of Biddulph. 
 
 *' You must thank him," he said ; " I — I misunderstood 
 him — but for him I should have never seen you again, 
 mother." 
 
 "But how did your accident happen, my darling?" 
 asked Mrs. Jock, in a low, anxious tone ; and a deep blush 
 rose on Malcolms white face as she made the inquiry. 
 
 "I slipped my foot on the verge of one of the tremen- 
 dous precipices out there," he answered, " and fell down 
 an immense height — and — and Mr. Biddulph found me ; 
 and that is how his leg was broken, trying to get to me — 
 and, since, he has been very kind." 
 
 Mrs. Jock did not speak, as she listened to Malcolm's 
 somewhat lame account of how he came by his injuries, 
 which he and Biddulph had agreed mutually to tell, so as 
 to spare the poor father and mother the agony of hearing 
 the truth. It was Biddulph who had proposed this almost 
 justifiable deception, as he knew well it would doubly add 
 to Mr. and Mrs. Eraser's grief to learn the story of the 
 awful struggle for life which had taken place between 
 them, and which had ended in such terrible retribution for 
 Malcolm. 
 
 " Then Biddulph absolutely broke his leg in trying to 
 get to you, my boy ?" said Jock Fraser, from tiie window. 
 
 ** Yes," answered Malcolm, huskily. 
 
 But at this moment Malcolm's nurse, who had left the 
 room when the father and mother entered it, came back, 
 and brought a message from Mr. Biddulph, to tell Mr. and 
 Mrs. Fraser that lunch was ready for them in his sitting- 
 room. 
 
 But Mrs. Jock refused to leave her son. 
 
 "I shall be your nurse now, my dear," she said, with in- 
 finite tenderness, as her eyes rested on Malcolm's face ; 
 and he smiled, and Jock Fraser left them together, going 
 to Biddulph's room, and thanking him warmly when he 
 got there for his kindness to his son. 
 
 " Have you told him I am here yet?" asked Nora, in a 
 low tone of Jock, before they sat down to lunch. 
 
 m 
 
ar/4 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 " Not yet, dear, " he answered ; " the mother will tell 
 him by and by. You must prepare yourself for a sad 
 change, Nora ;" and Jock gave a heavy sigh. 
 
 Mr. Dalton, hov;ever, was one of those happily consti- 
 tuted people who take everything calmly. He quietly 
 ignored th,e evident agitation of the rest of the party, and 
 talked sensfibly and well on many subjects, and Biddulph 
 WJS thankful for the presence of this well-read stranger ; 
 ft made things easier for them all. And after lunch was 
 over, Nora rose and retired to her own room, and, to Bid- 
 dulph's surprise and secret disappointment, did not reap- 
 pear the whole of the day. 
 
 But as he lay on his couch by the window, longing, yet 
 half dreading again to look on the i„ :et, familiar face, 
 winch he had seen many times in his dreams since they 
 last parted, he little thought that Nora was giving way in 
 secret to the bitterest tears, caused by the great change 
 in his own appearance, and his but too evident ill-health. 
 
 It had been a shock and a surprise almost too great for 
 w^ords, when she had first lifted her eyes to his face, and 
 read there the signs of weakness, weariness, and pain. She 
 had tried to hide this from him ; but no sooner was she 
 alone, than the pent-up anxiety and fear in her own heart 
 quite overwhelmed her, and it was some time before she 
 could recover her composure. 
 
 When she did so her eyelids were red and swollen, and 
 her face stained with tears. Then a message was brought 
 to her from Mrs. Jock, to ask her to go to see Malcolm 
 Fraser, to whom his mother had now broken the intelli- 
 gence that Nora was in the same hotel ; and the news had 
 greatly excited the young invalid. 
 
 Nora bathed her eyes, and went to thij painful interview 
 with a sinking heart. And the sight of Malcolm's white 
 face, his deep emotion, and the knowledge of his pitiable 
 condition, so moved her, that again tears rushed unbidden 
 into her 3yes, and she could only falter out a few broken 
 words. 
 
 "You — are better?" she said, holding his thin hand fast 
 in her trembling one. 
 
 Malcolm sighed, and fixed his eyes wistfully on her face, 
 but spoke no word. 
 
 "His mother will take care of him now," said Mrs. Jock, 
 who was standing near, watching half jealously this sad 
 meeting. 
 
 " Yes," said Malcolm, half bitterly, half tenderly, " I 
 
 have 
 
 and 
 truthj 
 as to 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 295 
 
 n\\ tell 
 r a sad 
 
 consti- 
 qnietly 
 ty, and 
 ddulph 
 anger ; 
 ich was 
 to Bid- 
 t reap- 
 
 ng, yet 
 Lr face, 
 :e they 
 way in 
 change 
 lealth. 
 eat for 
 ce, and 
 ti. She 
 vas she 
 1 heart 
 >.re she 
 
 in, and 
 rought 
 alcohii 
 ntelli- 
 vs had 
 
 ;rvie\v 
 white 
 itiable 
 >id(ien 
 Token 
 
 dfast 
 
 r face, 
 
 Jock, 
 is sad 
 
 have my mother now ; she will not change to me, Nora ; " 
 and Nora understood the covert reproach, though, in 
 truth, the poor boy's own leelings had always misled him 
 as to hers. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 ONE BRIEF MOMENT. 
 
 It was indeed a very sorrowful interview this, and it was 
 a relief to Nora when it was over, and when the mutely 
 reproachful eyes of both mother and son were no longer 
 fixed upon her face. 
 
 She went back to her own room, and sat wearily down, 
 wondering whether she had done right to come, and 
 whether her presence had not given fresh pain to the young 
 man, on whose features the gray shadow of death so 
 plainly lay. 
 
 But she was near Biddulph at least, and he was ill and 
 sad, and she must try to help him, Nora presently reflected ; 
 and the old dream of the faithful friendship that was to 
 take the place of the lost love stole back to her mind. '*! 
 said once that I should be his best friend and comforter," 
 she thought, tenderly ; " and now, when he is so changed, 
 I can surely be this — he. will not, I think, wish to leave 
 me now." 
 
 Yet she did not see him again during the day of their 
 first meeting after their long separation. She made that 
 convenient womanly excuse, a headache, for not reappear- 
 ing at dinner, and remained in her own room during the 
 rest of the evening, though the kindly Jock came twice to 
 her door to inquire after her. But the next morning Nora 
 rose refreshed, and had settled in her own mind how she 
 should for the future regard Biddulph. About twelve o'clock 
 he was lying on his couch by the window alone, having 
 just had an interview with his doctor, when a little rap 
 came to his sittincr-^'oom door, and a moment later Nora 
 Stewart entered, smil'ng and fair, and held out her hand to 
 him in a frank and friendly fasliion, without (apparently) 
 any of the embarrassment and emotion of the previous day. 
 
 " How are you ? " she said. 
 
 "Are you going out?" he asked, looking at her hat, 
 without answering her query, 
 
 " 1 was going to ask you the same question," smiled 
 
 © of ■ 
 
 .'. ■ '> 
 
 
 W» 
 
396 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 rti 
 
 Nora. " You go out in a bath-chair sometimes, do you 
 not ? It is a fine morning, ind I have been wondering if 
 you will go out now ; and in that case, if you like, I shall 
 go with you." 
 
 A flush passed quickly over Biddulph's face. 
 
 " I should like very much," he said ; ** but my going 
 out is such a formidable affair. I am not allowed even 
 to limp downstairs on my crutches, you know ; I have to 
 be carried in the chair. You would not like to be bored 
 with such an incubus." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I should. Do, please, come ; I want to go 
 out, and the air will do you good." 
 
 *' Mr. Dalton will take you about and show you the 
 sights, I am sure." 
 
 Nora^ave a little shrug of her pretty shoulders. 
 
 *' Mr. Dalton is too learned for me," she said, ^* and I 
 should rather go with you." 
 
 The consequences of this conversation were that, half 
 an hour later, Biddulph, in his invalid chair, was sitting 
 beneath one of the trees in the gardens of Madison Square, 
 with Nora standing by his side. And they were talking 
 together as familiar friends ; talking as those talk between 
 whose minds there is that subtle bond which comes un- 
 sought. This link makes common themes seem bright 
 and fresh, and Biddulph was smiling, and Nora looking 
 animated and handsome under her white sun-shade — a 
 different Nora, in truth, to the gentle, pensive woman she 
 liad been during his absence. Yet they were saying noth- 
 ing particularly brilliant, and were merely commenting 
 on the people passing around them. 
 
 And, presently, Biddulph once more mentioned Dalton. 
 
 " You will like him better when you know more of him," 
 he said ; "his manner is cold, but I owe him so much, that 
 I am naturally prejudiced in his favor." 
 
 '* What do you owe him ; " asked Nora, quickly. 
 
 For a moment Biddulph hesitated, remembering Nora 
 knew nothing of his terrible sufferings in the ravine ; then 
 he said quietly : 
 
 " He has been very kind to me since my accident, and 
 also to poor Malcolm Fraser." 
 
 " I shall try to like him, then — but here he actually is !" 
 
 For at this moment, Mr. Dalton, who was passing 
 through the gardens on his way to the hotel, had caught 
 sight of Biddulph in his chair, and at once made his way 
 toward him. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 297 
 
 "Good morninjr, Miss Stewart," he said, doffing his Iiat. 
 "Well, Biddulph, 1 am glad to see you out ; this is as it 
 should be." 
 
 "Miss Stewart has persuaded me to make an exhibition 
 of myself, as you perceive," answered Biddulph, smilingly. 
 
 "You see how sensitive a man's vanity is, Miss Stewart," 
 said Dalton, also smiling. " Now I have rarely been 
 able to induce Mr. Biddulph to do what is really most 
 essential to his recovery; and as I look upon his life with 
 a sort of godfatherly feeling, I am naturally anxious to 
 see him get well." 
 
 " Do you mean because you have nursed him since his 
 accident ? " asked Nora. 
 
 " I mean that when I found Mr. Biddulph in one of the 
 ravines of the valley of the Yellowstone River, that the 
 vital spark was about as nearly extinguished as ever it was 
 in living man." 
 
 "You never told me this," said Nora, looking at Bid- 
 dulph, while a little quiver passed over her face. 
 
 "Yet it was so," continued Dalton. "I am not 
 emotional, but I must confess I almost gave up hope 
 when my eyes first fill on your white, nay, ghastly face, 
 Biddulph. He looked twenty years older. Miss Stewart, 
 and for a moment or two I almost failed to recognize my 
 travelling companion." 
 
 "Don't talk about it," said Biddulph, quickly; "it's 
 like a horrid nightmare, best forgotten. Do look at that 
 eccentric hat, Miss Stewart — there, on the pretty, fair 
 girl ! " 
 
 He thus changed the conversation ; but for a few 
 minutes afterwards Nora looked very pale and grave. 
 Then she tried to shake off her feeling of depression, and 
 talked brightly to Biddulph and Dalton, until they 
 returned to^the hotel for lunch. Jock Fraser joined them 
 at this meal, but Mrs. Jock still refused to leave her son. 
 
 " I want to read to him this afternoon," said Nora to 
 Jock Fraser, " and then Jeanie will lie down and have a 
 
 rest." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear," answered Jock ; and, after lunch 
 was over, he took Nora to Malcolm's room, who smiled 
 and held out his hand as she went in. 
 
 " He looks better this morning, don't you thiak, Nora ?" 
 said Mrs. Jock, anxiously. 
 
 " Yes," answered Nora, with faltering tongue. For as 
 the bright sun-rays fell on the pallid young face, on the 
 
 \ ■ 
 
 ini 
 
298 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 m 
 
 damp brow, and bright, restless, sunken eyes, Nora saw 
 only too plainly that for Malcolm Frascr there would be 
 no improvement upon earth. But how could she tell this 
 to the fond mother ? Mrs. Jock had had a bed made up 
 in the dressing-room, #nd grudged every moment when 
 her eyes could not rest on the beloved face. But Nora 
 persuaded her to lie down, and then began reading to poor 
 Malcolm, who lay very still, except when his cough dis- 
 turbed him. Nora had chosen a sensational story of 
 adventures by sea and land, such as, in his 3''oung days, 
 Malcolm Eraser used to love, and by and by she paused 
 and asked him how he liked it. 
 
 " I have not been listening much to the story, I think, 
 Nora," he answered, with his wan smile, " but to your 
 voice." 
 
 ''Would you rather, then, that I just talked to you, dear 
 Malcolm?" she asked, gently laying her book down on 
 the bed. 
 
 " I think I should like that best," he said. " Is mother 
 asleep ? " he asked, a moment later ; and Nora rose softly 
 and looked through the dressing-room door. 
 
 "Yes, fast asleep," she whispered, when she went back 
 to Malcolm's bed. 
 
 " Poor mother ! " he muttered. " Nora," and he 
 stretched out his thin hand and took hers, " I won't get 
 better, you know, and I want you to be very kind to 
 mother after I am gone." 
 
 "Oh, Malcolm !" 
 
 " I hoped I might get better once," he went on wistfully ; 
 "though to lie like a useless log all my life seems almost 
 worse than death — at least, since I have seen you again." 
 
 " Don't talk thus, please, Malcolm." 
 
 " It doesn't matter much when I am going to die, you 
 know," he answered, with a little break in his voice. " Do 
 you remember, when I went away that night at Rossmore, 
 that I said if I lived I should see you again ? We did not 
 expect it would be like this, did we ? " 
 
 " No, indeed." 
 
 " I meant to go back to see you, if it cost me my life, 
 for you were more to me than life — but you knew this very 
 well." 
 
 " You pain me so much by saying these things, Malcolm." 
 
 " I won't any more, then ; only, I want you to understand. 
 I want, I suppose, to make you think of me a little more 
 kindly after I am dead." 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 299 
 
 he 
 
 " I do think of you most kindly ; " and she took one of 
 his restless, twitching hands, and held it in her own. 
 
 " Because you don't know all, perhaps. Nora, shut the 
 dressing-room door very gently, so as not to wake mother. 
 I've got something to tell you— something she must never 
 hear." 
 
 Nora silently obeyed his request, and then went back to 
 his side, and again took his hand. " I don't like to die 
 without you knowing the truth," began Malcolm. " Some 
 day Biddulph will tell you, and I should rather you heard 
 it from me — and — and knew something of what I felt." 
 
 "What have you to tell me, dear Malcolm ?" 
 
 ** Nora, when I heard you were going to marry Biddulph, 
 I was like a man possessed with an evil spirit, I think ! I 
 wandered about the city here until I could stand it no 
 longer, and then I determined to blow out my brains, and 
 end it all." 
 
 " But why go back to this now ? " 
 
 " Because I want you to understand — for my father and 
 mother's sake — Biddulph and I agreed not to tell the 
 truth ; but I know you will hear it ; and, as I said, I should 
 rather you heard it from me." 
 
 " Then you and Mr. Biddulph fought, Malcolm ?" asked 
 Nora, in a lower tone, growing very pale. 
 
 "I meant him to fight, but he w^uld not. I followed 
 him from place to place, after I heard that his wife had 
 cast up again ; and I w^as determined to fasten a quarrel 
 on him, and to avenge the insult he had cast upon you " 
 
 " I cannot stay to listen to all this, Malcolm," interrupted 
 Nora, rising, and trying to draw away her hand. 
 
 But he held it fast. 
 
 " I won't trouble you long," he said, " so have a little 
 patience with me now, Nora. I want you to understand 
 how I was wild with misery, or I never should have acted 
 as I did. Perhaps Biddulph did not mean to deceive you, 
 but I thought at least that he did, and so I followed him, 
 as I told you, from place to place ; and at last we met, 
 and I wanted him to fight. I had brought my revolver, 
 and I meant that only one of us should live — and that 
 would have been best ! " 
 
 "And what happened?" asked Nora, with pale, parted 
 lips. 
 
 " He would not fight ; and I pointed my revolver at him, 
 and he struck it out of my hand, and sent it rolling down 
 into the ravine below the cliff on which we were ^^.^nding. 
 
 % 
 
 i'H 
 
 
 li. 
 
300 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 Then I grew mad with rage, and said he should, follow 
 it ; and we had a fearful struggle, and it ended in our both 
 falling together over the cliff ; and this is how -" 
 
 Nora gave a kind of cry, and covered her face. 
 
 **Oh, Malcolm, this is too dreadful !" 
 
 " We lay there all night together " went on Mal- 
 colm ; and then, suddenly, Nora grasped his wrist with a 
 warning gesture. She was sitting by the side of the bed, 
 opposite the dressing-room door, and as Malcolm pro- 
 ceeded with his terrible story, Nora perceived that the 
 dressing-room door was being cautiously opened, and that 
 Mrs. Fraser was standing there listening to Malcolm's 
 words. 
 
 "I shall go on with the book again now," said Nora, 
 hastily, again pressing Malcolm's wrist. ** Where were we ? 
 I have lost the place, I think." 
 
 By this time Malcolm understood ; he turned his head, 
 and also saw his mother ; but she shrank back as he did 
 so, and Nora commenced reading again, though the words 
 presented nothing to her mind, for she was thinking all 
 the while of that dreadful fall among the hills. 
 , A quarter of an hour later Jock Fraser came into thei 
 room, and Nora was thus at liberty to lay aside her book, 
 and take leave of Malcolm. 
 
 " Cone again to-morrow, Nora," he said, as she parted 
 with him ; and she promised, stooping over him and kiss- 
 ing his damp brow before she went away. 
 
 ''Poor, poor boy !" she said to Jock, who followed her 
 out of the room, as he did not wish Malcolm to hear a few 
 words he had to say to her. 
 
 Jock shook his head sadly in reply. 
 
 " My dear," he said in a low tone the next moment, '* I've 
 promised Biddulph that we shall dine with him this 
 evening at eight o'clock. Will you do this ? " 
 
 "Yes, Jock." 
 
 " To-morrow we will begin dining downstairs at one of 
 the public tables, but Biddulph made such a point of it to- 
 night." 
 
 *' I shall meet you at his room at eight, then," answered 
 Nora ; and then she turned away, going to her own bed- 
 room, her heart full of the news she had just listened to. 
 
 How nobly Biddulph had acted, she thought ; and her 
 cheeks flushed, and her breath came short. .He had borne 
 this terrible pain, been at death's door, Mr. Dalton had 
 said, and yet tried to screen the poor rash boy who had 
 
A STRAMGE MESSAGE^ 
 
 30t 
 
 
 I've 
 this 
 
 re red 
 bed- 
 to. 
 her 
 korne 
 had 
 had 
 
 caused it all in his foolish, jealous rage ! Biddulph not 
 unnaturally seemed a hero in Nora's eyes at this moment, 
 and when, an hour or so later, she entered his sitting- 
 room, dressed in a white gown for dinner, he lifted his 
 gray eyes to her face and smiled his welcome. 
 
 She went up to his couch, and stood talking to him ; 
 and, with that wondrous silent knowledge of each other's 
 feelings which lay between these two, Biddulph understood 
 that Nora knew something she had not known when he 
 had last seen her. He read this in the downcast, dewy 
 eyes, just as he had read in the morning that she meant to 
 be his faithful friend, and to help and cneer him through 
 life's dull mill. And so sweet had this thought been to 
 him, that Biddulph's face had brightened, and the little 
 things that had worried and wearied him before Nora had 
 arrived at New York, now appeared easy and pleasant to 
 his mind. 
 
 Mr. Dalton even had his mild joke on the improvement 
 which had taken place in Biddulph's appearance ; for, after 
 looking at him attentively a moment or two through his 
 spectacles, he turned to Nora with a smile. 
 
 " I believe it is the fashion now-a-days," he said, ** for 
 you young ladies tc take out diplomas as doctors and phy- 
 sicians, is it not ? If I might venture to express such an 
 opinion, I am quite sure that you. Miss Stewart, would ex- 
 cel in the art of healing ; Mr. Biddulph is a changed man 
 since you came." 
 
 Nora laughed softly and blushed, but Biddulph blushed 
 and frowned. 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph is an old and intimate friend of mine," 
 she said, " and I am glad you think I shall be able to do 
 him some good." 
 
 "It always does a man good," replied Dalton, senten- 
 tiously, "to find a charming woman interestea in his wel- 
 fare." And again he smiled, thinking, poor i.xan, he had 
 made a most judicious and appropriate remark ! 
 
 Then Jock Fraser came in, with his sad face, and the 
 little party sat down to dinner ; Biddulph, however, dining 
 at a small table of his own placed near his couch, by the 
 window, as he had strict orders from his doctor to keep, if 
 possible, in a recumbent position. And presently, while 
 Dalton and Jock Fraser went on with their wine, Nora 
 rose from the table and crossed the room, and went to the 
 window near which Biddulph lay, and stood looking out 
 silently at the brilliantly lighted scene below, 
 
 ' 
 
 B ... 
 
 'I' 
 ttii 
 
 ' %\ ■ 
 
302 
 
 A ST/CAA'CE MESSAGE. 
 
 The room was almost dark, in the fast gathering twi- 
 light, but Biddulph could just see her delicate profile, and 
 in a little while he heard her sigh softly. 
 
 "What are you thinking of ?" he asked in a low tone. 
 
 Then she turned her charming face, and looked at him 
 with a smile. 
 
 "Perhaps I was not thinking at all," she said. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you were ! " 
 
 "Our thoughts are strange things — always active." 
 
 "Yes, we each hold ceaseless inward council ; we judge, 
 we condemn, sometimes we pardon — all in thought." 
 
 "And all the time we are often smiling and talking 
 nonsense, too ! " 
 
 " We naturally do not tell every one what we think — 
 you would not tell me just now, you know." 
 
 ** I was thinking," said Nora, almost in a whisper, bend- 
 ing her head nearer his, " of something I have heard to- 
 day—something about you, James." 
 
 " What have you heard ? " 
 
 " Of — of what you have kept secret for poor Malcolm's 
 sake." 
 
 " And he told you ? " 
 
 " He told me. Oh, James, it was too terrible ! " 
 
 " Poor boy ! he should not have told you." 
 
 " He said his father and mother must never know. I — 
 I do not know how to thank you — to tell you what I 
 feel " 
 
 Her voice faltered and broke as she whispered the last 
 few words, and an instant later his hand had stolen into 
 hers, and they both were silent. 
 
 Disjointed sentences from the two at the table fell on 
 their ears, but they seemed like far-away murmurs. Jock 
 Fraser was a good listener, and occasionally such words, 
 in Dalton's calm tones, as "lignite beds," "deciduous 
 leaves," and so on, reached them ; but they passed like 
 empty sounds. Below were the brilliant lights and stir 
 of the great city, but of these Biddulph and Nora took no 
 heed. In that brief moment the world and the things of 
 it were forgotten, and, with quickened breath and beating 
 hearts, they lived alone. 
 
 << 
 
A STRANCE MESSAGE. 
 
 mmtm 
 303 
 
 Hi 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 > 
 
 A SAD END. 
 
 "Will you two join us in a game of whist?" said Mr. 
 Dalton ; and his voice broke the spell, and the clasped 
 hands parted, and, with a sigh, they wrenched themselves 
 away from sweet oblivion. 
 
 *' I shall be delighted," said Nora, hastily. 
 
 "We ought to ring for lights, I think," suggested Bid- 
 dulph. 
 
 And the lights were brought, and the game of whist 
 was played ; and during it, Biddulph made up his mind 
 not to allow the pleasant friendship of the morning, 
 which Nora had seemed so anxious to establish, to lapse 
 again into those dangerous mo:nents of forgetfulness 
 through which they had just passet'. 
 
 " I tried going away, and it was no good," he thought, 
 as he made an egregious error in the game, and trumped 
 his partner's trick, to Mr. Dalton's indignation. " She 
 wishes me to remain her friend, and I shall ; it's some- 
 thing, at least, to see her and talk to her sometimes." 
 
 " I really cannot compliment you on your play, Bid- 
 dulph," remarked Dalton, when the game was ended. 
 
 " I can never keep my attention to cards. I do not 
 know how it is," answered Biddulph, with a good-natured 
 laugh. 
 
 "Apparently not," said Dalton, dryly. 
 
 "Miss Stewart," said Biddulph the next moment, "do 
 you mean to be good enough to insist upon my going out 
 to-morrow morning again ? " And he looked at Nora and 
 smiled. 
 
 " If you wish to go, I think it will do you good," an- 
 swered Nora, somewhat shyly. 
 
 " I am sure it will do me good ; yet I hate to be stared 
 at. A man looks such a fool in a bath-chair ! " laughed 
 Biddulph. 
 
 "That is, suppose any one looks at him," said Dalton, 
 calmly. " In the country we are, unhappily, of sufficient 
 interest to our neighbors for our actions to be watched 
 and commented on ; in cities we escape observation. I 
 do not suppose any one will notice you, Biddulph." 
 
 Again Biddulph langhed, and they finally settled that 
 
 i 
 
 
 
304 
 
 /t STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 he was to go out, and risk the chance even of being re- 
 marked upon. 
 
 " He imposes on my good nature, you perceive. Miss 
 Stewart," said Biddulph, as he shook hands with Nora, al- 
 luding to Dalton, who was standing near. 
 
 " Well, I shall sec you in the morning, then," replied 
 Nora, smiling, as she left the room ; and when she reached 
 her own, her lace was flushed and her eyes shining. 
 
 ** He seemed better to-night," she thought softly ; and 
 she thought, too, of that silent hand-clasp, and of the brief 
 moments when the shadow athwart their lives seemed 
 almost forgotten. 
 
 But they both remembered it the next morning, and no 
 further allusion was made either to the past or the coming 
 days. They werj friends, and Biddulph accepted the 
 position, and life d'd not seem dull or wearisome to him 
 any longer. They had a hundred things to talk of, with- 
 out even nearing subjects which they knew were best 
 ignored. In the sunny gardens they spent many hours, 
 and Biddulph grew stronger daily, and presently was al- 
 lowed by his doctor to limp on his crutches by Nora's side. 
 
 Once while he was doing this, some passer-by — a lady — 
 made a remark to a friend which sent a burning blush to 
 Nora's cheeks, but which she hoped Biddulph did not hear. 
 
 " I suppose she is his Wife," said this lady, looking at 
 Nora. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so ; she seems very fond of him," 
 answered the friend. 
 
 A minute later Biddulph made some commonplace 
 remark, and when Nora ventured to glance at him again 
 he was looking very pale. She thought he had not heard 
 the stranger's words, and in a little while regained her 
 composure. But Biddulph, in truth, had heard them, and 
 they disturbed him, and filled his heart for a little while 
 with restless pain. 
 
 But he did not show this to Nora ; this friendship, from 
 which he had once fled, had grown too sweet and precious 
 to him to be risked by indulgence in vain regrets. And as 
 weeks went on, and the summer began to wane, Mr. 
 Dalton left New York, his concerns recalling him to 
 England, and Nora and Biddulph were thus thrown more 
 entirely alone. 
 
 For awhile they loitered in the gardens, or took excur- 
 sions to the sunny beach of Coney Island, and sat there 
 watching the blue waters. In Malcolm Fraser's sick-room 
 
ig re- 
 Miss 
 ra, al- 
 
 eplicd 
 ached 
 
 -" ; and 
 2 brief 
 ecmed 
 
 ind no 
 oming 
 id the 
 :o him 
 ', with- 
 e best 
 hours, 
 was al- 
 s side, 
 hidy — 
 lush to 
 )t hear. 
 :ing at 
 
 him," 
 
 n place 
 again 
 heard 
 ed her 
 m, and 
 while 
 
 p, from 
 recious 
 And as 
 e, Mr. 
 lim to 
 I more 
 
 excur- 
 there 
 [-room 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 30s 
 
 the gathering shadows of death grew nearer and nearer, 
 and neither fatlier nor mother would be persuaded to 
 leave him. 
 
 Nora went to sec him every day ; but poor Mrs. Jock 
 felt a strange jealousy of these visits, and grudged the 
 wan smile which used to flit over Malcolm's face when 
 Nora appeared, knowing how terribly dear this love had 
 cost her son. And she knew, too, that Nora went out 
 with Biddulph, and secretly resented this also. 
 
 " She came here to see him, I suppose," she said to Jock, 
 bitterly, "and not our poor boy." 
 
 Alick Fraser also heard, with deep and concentrated 
 anger, that Biddulph was staying in the same hotel as his 
 brother and sister-in-law and Nora. lie had not approved 
 of their going to New York nt all, to see the last of •' that 
 stupid, idiotic boy," as he called Malcolm, and had been 
 absent from Inismorc when the news of Malcolm's terrible 
 injuries reached Airdlinn. But he did not know that 
 Nora Stewart had gone with them until they had abso- 
 lutely started. When he found this was the case, he gave 
 way to a violent fit of passion, knowing that Nora would 
 thus again meet Biddulph. 
 
 *' But she can't marry him, at all events," he consoled 
 himself by thinking ; and then he went over to Airdlinn, 
 and brought Minnie back to stay with him at Inismore 
 until her parents should return. 
 
 He thus heard constantly how Malcolm was going on, 
 as Mrs. Jock naturally wrote to Minnie all the news about 
 her brother, and sometimes news about Nora Stewart, too. 
 
 *' Nora Stewart seems to see a good deal of Mr. Bid- 
 dulph, apparently," Alick once read in one of these letters, 
 and he frowned and bit his lips as he did so. The idea of 
 going out to New York crossed his mind, but more prudent 
 thoughts prevailed. He was not quite sure of that quick 
 temper of his, and he did not wish to get into " any row," 
 as he called it, with "that confounded fellow Biddulph ;" 
 nor did he wish to be mixed up in any way with poor 
 Malcolm Fraser. 
 
 ** He is best dead," he thought many a time, in his hard 
 way, and he grew impatient for the news. Perhaps, had 
 he seen the young man stricken down in his prime, laying 
 panting and gasping for breath during the hot August 
 days, his heart might have relented. It was very pitiful, 
 and moved Nora many a time to tears ; while the mother's 
 grief was too great and bitter to be told. 
 
 ■■) 
 
 m 
 
3o6 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 Hi 
 
 
 f4 
 
 Mrs. Jock grew old, white-haired, and bent during this 
 sad vigil. At last the end came, and one bright morning 
 Jock Fraser called up Nora about six o'clock, to tell her 
 that Malcolm was dying. She hastily dressed, and went 
 to his room, and there a most mournful sight met her gaze. 
 
 Mrs. Jock was holding him up in her arms, as his diffi- 
 culty of breathing was very great, while the gray pallor of 
 his face, his damp brow, and dim, sunken eyes, told that 
 the coming change was very near. 
 
 He looked at Nora as she approached him, but did not 
 speak. 
 
 •'Dear Malcolm," said Nora, going up to the bed, and 
 kneeling down and taking one of his wasted hands. 
 
 Then he turned his head toward her. 
 
 ** Kiss me," he gasped out in a hoarse whisper ; and she 
 bent over him and kissed him again and again, while her 
 tears fell hot and fast upon his face. 
 
 ** I — I — loved you too well," she heard him murmur ; 
 *' so forgive me — before I go." 
 
 "I — have nothing to forgive," wept Nora. " Dear boy, 
 do not distress yourself about anything now." 
 
 "Tell Biddulph I am sorry," went on Malcolm, still in 
 that hoarse whisper ; and then he grew silent, his breath- 
 ing changed, and the mother, with her agonized eyes fixed 
 on his face, thought the end had come. 
 
 But he lingered about an hour, aoparently in a semi- 
 unconscious state ; and then, just before he died, he opened 
 bis eyes, and looked straight at his mother. 
 
 ** Mother," he said, and spoke no more ; and until the 
 last breath passed his lips, and the film of death stole over 
 them, his blue eyes were still fixed on his mother's face. 
 
 " His last thoughts were for you, Jeanie," said Jock 
 Fraser, trying to draw her away ; but, with an " exceeding 
 bitter cry," she flung herself on her dead son's breast. 
 
 " My darling — my darling, look at me again ! Malcolm — 
 Malcolm, my son ! " 
 
 It was terrible to see her, for there was no comfort for 
 her any more. 
 
 "Oh, Lord, take me too !" she kept crying. "Let me 
 die, since Thou hast taken him J " 
 
 The next few days v^ere most miserable ones, and it was 
 in vain that Jock Fraser or Nora tried to soften the grief 
 of the bereaved mother. 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 36? 
 
 "Why was he born ?" she asked almost fiercely, in reply 
 to some soothing words. " Why did God give him to me 
 — my babe, my first-born — if He meant to take him away ? 
 Don't talk to me of hope or hereafter ; my hope is dead ! " 
 
 And she refused, positively refused, to allow her son's 
 body to be buried in America. 
 
 "I shall take him home," she said. "Jock, I have not 
 long to live, for I won't live after him, so don't refuse my 
 last request. Let us take him back to Airdlinn, and let 
 him sleep among the hills where he was born, and bury 
 me beside him." 
 
 This, of course, meant great expense, but Jock Fraser 
 had no heart to refuse. And during this sad time Bid- 
 dulph acted with such generous forethought and kindness, 
 that he quite won poor Jock's heart, and many a time Nora 
 Stewart told herself that but for "James" her own heart 
 would have been broken too. 
 
 Malcolm's death drew them nearer and nearer, and made 
 the tie that parted them more hateful and bitter to Bid- 
 dulph every day. He used to sit and look at Nora's sweet 
 face, and listen to her words, while the doubt of Natalie's 
 identity passed and re-passed through his mind. Should 
 he tell Nora this — he began asking himself — leave her to 
 judge ? Honor told him he had no right to do this ; but 
 another feeling — a feeling that grew and grew — urged him 
 to let her at least share this vague hope. 
 
 "May I go back with you?" he had c->sked Nora, when 
 the conveyance of poor Malcolm's body home was dis- 
 cussed ; and she looked up in his face, as if half surprised 
 at the question. 
 
 " Surely you would never stay on here alone ? " she 
 said. 
 
 " No, that would be too desolate," he answered ; and he 
 sighed, moved uneasily, and then turned away his head. 
 
 ^ff 
 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 it Wilb 
 
 grief 
 
 GOING HOME. 
 
 There was no question after this about Biddulph going 
 back to England with the sad party. Mrs. Fraser was too 
 utterly prostrate to take the slightest notice of any arrange- 
 ments, and Jock Fraser was really glad of his company, 
 
3oS 
 
 , A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 and truly grateful to him for having tried to save the life 
 of his unfortunate son. Malcolm's secret had died with 
 him, as far as his father and mother were concerned, and 
 none but Nora and Biddulph knew that he had brought 
 his miserable fate upon his own head, and had twice at- 
 tempted to take the life of the man who had done his best 
 to save him. 
 
 And this joint knowledge added another link to the bond 
 between these two, whose strong and faithful affection had 
 been so sorely tried. Women are quick to recognize gen- 
 erosity of any sort in men, and ready to forgive any faults 
 and failings better than meanness or seif-glorification. 
 Biddulph had borne great pain in silence rather than add 
 another pang to Jock Fraser and his wife ; and this seemed 
 very noble in Nora Stewart's eyes. And one day, when 
 the poor boy lay dead, Biddulph told Nora something oi 
 that terrible night in the ravine in the Yellowstone Valley, 
 and cf the anguish of thirst that he and Malcolm had en- 
 dured. 
 
 It was not a story for a woman to hear unmoved, and 
 Nora dare not trust herself to speak the words that rose 
 unbidden to her lips. But Biddulph saw her cheeks grow 
 pale, and her dark eyes fill with tears, and he understood 
 something of what she felt, and knew that the love Nora 
 had once given him was still unchanged. 
 
 It was a terribly trying position for a man of strong feel- 
 ings to continually keep the chain on his tongue, and hold 
 back the words which he knew he ought not to speak. As 
 he had foreseen and told Nora, he was not strong enough 
 to be constantly near her without some of the old feeling 
 peeping out. To do him justice, he tried hard not to show 
 this ; but little things — a look, a sigh — reveal so much ; 
 and during the voyage back to England he was naturally 
 always thrown with her. 
 
 Jock Eraser's whole time was taken up with trying to 
 console his broken-hearted wife, and Nora, in her deep 
 mourning for her poor young cousin, felt no inclination to 
 make new acquaintances or friends; The " pale, hand- 
 some girl in black," and the "grave, good-looking man on 
 crutches," as they were called, kept very much to them- 
 selves, and perhaps were really not unhappy, as the great 
 green waves of the Atlantic rolled around them ; for they 
 were together, and that, to them, meant much they only 
 understood. 
 
 It was on a moonlit night, balmy and beautiful, that the 
 
 (( 
 
A STRAl^GE MESSAGE, 
 
 309 
 
 old sweet madness stole over Biddulph's heart with such 
 irresistible power, that he yielded to the temptation tu tell 
 Nora of the doubts which now constantly beset his own 
 mind. Up and down on a short space of the deck of the 
 big ship these two had been walking more than an hour, 
 and the white light shining on Nora's upturned face made 
 it seem fairer than ever to Biddulph's eyes. Once or twice 
 their arms had accidentally touched as the ship swayed on 
 the waters, and each time a thrill had passed through Bid- 
 dulph's frame, as he involuntarily bent nearer to her. 
 Then, suddenly, the moon became overcast, the sea dark- 
 ened, and a summer storm seemed about to commence. 
 *' I hope it will not thunder," said Nora, half timidly. 
 ** You are not afraid, are you ?" asked Biddulph, feeling 
 at that moment almost a wish that a great storm should 
 engulf them, if they might but die together. "' It would 
 be better than to separate now," he thought, as he walksd 
 almost in silence by her side. 
 
 " No, I am not afraid ; still " 
 
 "Would you rather go below, then ?*' said Biddulph, 
 making a great effort to speak calmly. 
 
 " Oh, no ; it is so tiresome there ! One has to talk." 
 "Take my arm, then ; the ship is rolling a little — it will 
 steady you." 
 
 She laid her hand lightly on his arm ; but as they walked 
 together he drew it closer to him. 
 
 " Why don't you lean on me ? Are you afraid ? " 
 " Oh, no," answered Nora, with a smile and a little con- 
 scious blush. 
 
 "Nora," began Biddulph the next minute, as though 
 moved past control by his own feelings, " there has been 
 something trembling on my lips for days — something I 
 would fain tell you — and yet I shrink from doing so." 
 "You must tell me now, then." 
 
 "Do you remember," continued Biddulph, in a broken • 
 voice, " that miserable night when I went to Rossmore, to 
 tell you such a tale that I should rather have died than 
 spoken the hateful words ! I told you then my mind was 
 full of doubt as to the actual identity of the woman who 
 claimed to be the wife that I had believed dead." 
 " I remember," answered Nora, growing very pale. 
 " I thought that doubt was settled the next day, when 
 I saw the dead and living women fape to face — when the 
 living one said a few words in my ear I believed none but 
 Natalie Beranger could know, But afterward — strange, 
 
 o-H 
 
 iiiii 
 
 ilM 
 
 i 
 
3IO 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 the suggestion was made by Lady Barbara — I began ag?"u 
 to doubt. The likeness between these two twin-sisters was 
 so wonderful, it was perfectly easy for either to assume to 
 be the one that it was most convenient, financially, to be; 
 and it was, of course, more convenient to appear as a 
 living wife than a distasteful sister-in-law. In fact, I have 
 thought and thought of this, night and day, since I parted 
 with you, before I went to America, and I have thought of 
 it constantly since we have met again. Perhaps I have no 
 right to tell you this." 
 
 "No right !" echoed Nora, with parted, quivering lips, 
 looking eagerly up in his face ; "when this would make all 
 the difference between " 
 
 She stopped abruptly, and her eyes fell, and her breast 
 heaved. Her violent emotion f artled Biddulph, who had 
 become accustomed, as it were, to argue this doubt in his 
 own mind. But to Nora the idea had never occurred since 
 the doctor had gone to Rossmore to tell her that Biddulph 
 was satisfied his wife still lived. And now! Again she 
 looked up in his face with eager, questioning eyes, and 
 Biddulph felt her hand trembling on his arm. 
 
 " To me," he said, laying his own hand on those small, 
 quivering fingers, " it would make the difference between 
 a life worth living for and a life which is not. It is no use 
 disguising the truth, Nora, and this is about it. With you 
 it is different, I know ; you seemed happy and content, my 
 aunt told me, when I was away — and I was glad." 
 
 Nora did not speak ; she turned aside her head, and 
 tried to hide, as women do, the overpowering emotion of 
 her heart. Happy J She thought at this moment of the 
 bitter pain she had endured, and the resolute endeavor she 
 had made not to show this to a world that scoffs at unfor- 
 tunate or unrequited lo'^'e. She had been calm, and very 
 anxious not to make those around her uncomfortable, and 
 Lady Barbara, perhaps, might have thought she was 
 ** happy and content ; " but Lady Barbara, in truth, had 
 done nothing of the sort. 
 
 " I have woiried — I have pained you," said Biddulph, 
 remorsefully, the next moment, for he saw how deeply 
 she was agitated. " Forgive me for being so selfish ; you 
 know I did not mean to disturb you in any way." 
 
 " It' is not that," faltered the poor girl; *'it is the 
 thought " 
 
 Ah, she could not tell him, and yet he knew ! It was the 
 thought that their lives might no longer be apart, that 
 
of 
 
 ou 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 3" 
 
 they might openly live for each other, as they now did in 
 secret, which filled her with such emotion she could find 
 no words. And Biddulph, seeing this, felt strangely 
 moved. 
 
 ** I meant," he said, clasping her hand yet closer, " to 
 return to England and see this woman, even -before we 
 met again, Nora ; and I shall do so now the moment we 
 arrive there. Until then, I cannot give up the idea that 
 I was deceived." 
 
 The last words were spoken in r. very low tone, but she 
 heard them, and a sudden flood of joy seemed to sweep 
 over her heart ; and as the night-wind passed and kissed 
 her pale cheeks, the lovely blush which now so seldom 
 stole there, crept back with ?iopg. 
 
 And Biddulph's grave face, too, flushed, and a new light 
 lit his gray eyes, as they walked there in silence togetlier, 
 thinking of what might still be. Presently the moon 
 shone out again from amid the dark and broken clouds, 
 and the white rays recalled to his mind his dream, when 
 he laid so sorely injured in the ravine, and a track of 
 shining light seemed to fall upon him, and the angel's 
 face changed to that of the fair woman by his side. 
 
 *' Do you know, I dreamed of you, Nora," he said^ his 
 voice vibrating with deep feeling, ''when I spent that ter- 
 rible night in the Yellowstone Valley. I thought you 
 were an angel, first, sent to comfort me, and then I saw 
 your face — the face I loved best to see." 
 
 " In a dream ? " asked Nora, softly. 
 
 "Yes, all in a dream — only a dream, Nora, for when I 
 awoke, that poor fellow, Malcolm Fraser, was crying for 
 water, and it was stern enough reality after that." 
 
 ** Oh, don't speak of it — I never dare think of it I " 
 
 « You are a tender-hearted little girl," said Biddulph, 
 looking down at her with a smile. 
 
 <* I don't know^ about being a girl ; I don't feel like a 
 girl now — never since " 
 
 " Since when, Nora ? " 
 
 " Since that night when you came to tell me that— that 
 the woman whom you believed to be dead " 
 
 " I believe her to be dead still, I think ! " interrupted 
 Biddulph, with sudden impatience. "Don't let us spcuk 
 any more of her to-night— to-night, when it almost seems 
 like the old happy times." 
 
 And they did not mention her again. They watched 
 the waves and the sky, and Biddulph talked almost as he 
 
 I 
 
 :il 
 
312 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 used to talk before the bitter blow had fallen on his life, 
 which seemed to change it all to bitterness. He had that 
 vague poetic instinct in his nature which finds vent some- 
 times in picturesque words and phrases, though not in 
 rhymes. And the hour and scene — the dark clouds with 
 moonlit rifts, the changing silver tracks upon the sea — - 
 stirred these dreamy fancies, and made him, for the time, 
 at least, forget the gloomy shadows that stalked so often 
 by his side. 
 
 At last, with a blush and a sigh, Nora remembered how 
 late it was, and bade Biddulph good-night, going below 
 too much excited to sleep. If this should be true — if he 
 were free after all, and she might be his wife ! She could 
 think of nothing else, and the next morning she met Bid- 
 dulph with a new sweet shyness, which he knew very well 
 how to interpret. 
 
 And it made him happy, sometimes too happy. He 
 began, in truth, to persuade himself that he had been de- 
 ceived by " a base, wretched woman ; " and he was eager 
 to reach England, so that he should have an opportunity 
 of trying to force her to speak the truth. He thought 
 this one day, and the next awoke in the morning full of 
 chill, sad doubts. It was like a fever, this uncertainty, 
 with fits of hot and cold, and lasted during the remainder 
 of the voyage ; Biddulph's changing moods naturally in- 
 fluencing Nora. 
 
 They had settled that when they reached Liverpool they 
 were to part, Nora returning to Scotland with Jock Fraser 
 and his wife, and Biddulph proceeding to town, to see his 
 lawyer and find out the present address of the woman 
 who had called herself his wife. 
 
 And when the hour came, and they stood together on 
 the landing stage, both pale and grave, they spoke few 
 words of farewell. They clasped each other's hands, and 
 they understood each other's hearts. 
 
 "We, at least, shall always be friends," faltered Nora, 
 her dark eyes dim with unbidden tears, and he emphati- 
 cally answered, " Yes.'* 
 
 Then Jock Fraser warmly grasped Biddulph's hand, also, 
 in silence ; but the poor mother never raised her crape- 
 hidden face. She was carrying home her dead, and all 
 other things were as nothing to her. It was the saddest 
 journey— the sorrowing father and mother bearing back 
 the encoffined form of their only son ; and a hearse awaited 
 them at the Highland station, as well as the carriage 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 313 
 
 which was to take them to the loch-side, before they 
 crossed to Airdlinn. 
 
 For " he sha]l go borne again," Mrs. Fraser had said ; 
 and thus Malcolm Fiaser's body was borne back to the 
 old roof-tree under which he had been born. It was a 
 gloomy, wet evening when they reached the water, and 
 the shadows of the great hills fell dark and lowering on 
 its breast. And the weather-beaten faces of the boatmen 
 who awaited them were wet with tears as they carried 
 *^the yourtg laird " — as Malcolm had always been called — 
 on their shoulders to the boat, in which so many of the 
 days of his boyhood and young manhood had been spent. 
 
 One of these was Tam Mackenzie, and the poor lad 
 fairly broke down, remembering the devoted love which 
 his bra e boy-brother Rob had given to the "young 
 master." 
 
 ** It's weel he did na live to see this day," said Tam, 
 rubbing his eyes with his brown knuckles, to try to hide 
 his fast-falling tears. " Ay, they're both gane now — and 
 his bit pictur' is lying on Rob's breast still." 
 
 So across the darkening loch the young heir of Airdlinn, 
 the pride and darling of his mother's heart, was taken 
 home dead, after his long sufferings and sorrow. The 
 kindly, homely face of the doctor was watching for them 
 at the other side, ready to grasp Jock Fraser's hand in 
 truest sympathy, and to do what he could for her whose dry 
 eyes shed no tears, and whose white lips spoke no words. 
 
 Not even when Minnie Fraser flung herself weeping 
 into her mother's arms did Mrs. Fraser break that silent 
 agon> of grief, which was past all human expression. 
 She had grown gray and old ; her mourni^^or her son 
 had eaten into her length of days as moths into a garment. 
 
 ii^i 
 
 
 so. 
 
 They buried him the next day in the kirk-yard at Balla, 
 among his kinsfolk ; for long generations of Frasers sleep 
 there beneath the green mossy turf. His father followed 
 him to the grave, ana the doctor ; but the stern man at 
 Inismore stayed at home. Alick Fraser, in truth, was very 
 wroth that Jock had yielded to "Jeanie's folly" about 
 bringing back Malcolm's body, and did not go to Airdlmn 
 until after Malcolm was in his grave. 
 
 "Useless waste of money; just makmg people talk 
 again," many a time Alick had reflected angrily, since 
 Jock had telegraphed to him from Liverpool that they 
 

 3*4 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 had arrived there. But after the funeral was over he 
 went to see his brother, and felt a sort of shock when he 
 saw how gray Jock had grown and how old-looking. 
 
 ** And you saw that fellow, Biddulph ? " he presently 
 asked, abruptly. 
 
 . "Yes," answered Jock ; "he came home wUh us, you 
 know. I shall never forget what he did for our poor 
 boy." 
 
 " He came home with you ? " repeated Alick, sharply. 
 "Then, are Miss Nora and he sweet-hearting again in 
 spite of his being a married man ? " And Alick laughed 
 disagreeably. 
 
 "There was no question of anything of the sort, I 
 should say ; we were all in too much trouble." 
 
 " Where is he now, then ? " 
 
 " He left us at Liverpool, and went up to town. He's 
 a fine fellow, Alick, say what you like ; he got his own leg 
 badly broken, trying to save our dear lad;" and Jock's 
 brown eyes grew dim, and he turned away his head. 
 
 " He may be one thing or the other \ I know nothing 
 about him, nor wish to ; but he's a married man, and 
 Nora Stewart had best keep out of his way if she minds 
 her good name, in my opinion." 
 
 Jock Fraser made no reply to this, nor did he speak to 
 his brother of the long walks together on the deck of the 
 steamer, or of the intimate friendship which, no doubt, 
 existed between Biddulph and Nora Stewart. It was 
 Jock's private belief that Nora would never marry any one 
 else ; but he confided this opinion to no one. 
 
 " It is no business of mine," he had decided ; and, like a 
 wise man, iig^ held his tongue, knowing well also what 
 made Alicffso bitter on the subject of Biddulph. 
 
 " He is wasting his time," thought Jock, when he heard 
 that Alick had been to call on Nora at Rossmore ; but he 
 did not tell his brother this, and Alick seemed to be very 
 well satisfied after his visit. ^^ 
 
 For he conld not look into the girl's inner life, nor see 
 her kiss the letters which came from the man she loved. 
 Biddulph had seen his lawyer, and Madame de Beranger's 
 last quarterly allowance had been forwarded to Monte 
 Carlo. 
 
 "I mean, therefore, to start at once for this place, 
 though I detest it," wrote Biddulph, " and shall no doubt 
 find her there squandering her last penny. I shall tell 
 you everything, my dear — my dearest, and leave you to 
 
A STRAMGE MESSAGE. 
 
 3»5 
 
 leard 
 It he 
 [very 
 
 see 
 ked. 
 
 jer's 
 lonte 
 
 judge. I believe now I have been the victim of a base 
 deception ;" and so on. 
 
 Alick Eraser did not know how often Nora read and re- 
 read these words ; he did not know the fond hopes that 
 filled her heart, nor how she watched for the post, and 
 eagerly looked for the news Biddulph's letters might 
 contain. He only saw her as a handsome woman whose 
 estate lay next his own, and whom he cared for as much 
 as it was possible for him to care for any one, except the 
 owner of Inismore. 
 
 Nor did he see her receive a letter one day which drove 
 the blood from her cheeks and lips, and filled her heart 
 with sudden excitement and fear. This letter, written in a 
 
 i handwriting which seemed familiav to her, was carried up 
 to her bedroom by her maid. Palmer, about a week after 
 her return to Rossmore, and Palmer told her that the lady 
 who had brought it was waiting in the dining-room down- 
 stairs to know if she could see her. 
 
 Nora glanced at the letter, and then grew pale. 
 
 "I shall tell you in a moment," she said ; ''ask the lady 
 to wait." 
 
 Then, when Palmer was gone, she drew out the key of 
 the desk where she had always kept locked away that first 
 communication which she had received to warn her 
 against James Biddulph — the strange message that had 
 come to her from an unknown hand — and she laid this let- 
 ter and the letter which she had just received side by side, 
 and stood looking at them both with blank and staring 
 eyes. 
 
 For the handwriting was the same ; the words that had 
 bade her long ago to beware of James Biddulph, and the 
 words that now asked her to receive the writer, as she had 
 an important communication to make, was written evi- 
 dently by one person. Nora's breath came short, and a 
 bitter feeling of disappointment and pain swept over her ; 
 for if the first letter had been written by Biddulph's wife, 
 as she had always believed it to be, Nora knew that she 
 still must live. 
 
 ;■ ) 
 
 x". ? 
 
 •; -; 
 
 lace, 
 
 )ubt 
 
 tell 
 
 to 
 
3i6 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 WIFE, OR NO WIFE. 
 
 It was a great blow, and Nora realized at this moment 
 how strong had been her hope, and how terrible it was to 
 her to relinquish this, though she had told herself a hun- 
 dred times that she must not set her heart upon what might 
 prove utterly delusive. 
 
 And should she see this visitor? Nora asked herself 
 this question again and again, while a positive agony of 
 doubt and uncertainty filled her heart. One moment she 
 told herself that she would not do so ; the next, the over- 
 whelming wish to know what this woman had to tell in- 
 duced her to hesitate ; and, finally, she decided to go down- 
 stairs, and hear with her own ears what the " important 
 communication " might be. 
 
 With a certain dignity and pride, of which she was un- 
 conscious, she lifted her shapely head a little higher as she 
 descended the stair-case to go to this interview. She look- 
 ed a very handsome, rather haughty lady, with a flush on 
 her usually pale cheeks, as she opened the dining-room 
 door, and walked into the room ; and so the stout little 
 woman standing .here thought, examining her critically 
 'vith her bold dark eyes. 
 
 Nora bowed loftily. 
 
 " You wish to see me ? " she said. 
 
 " If you are Miss Stewart, of Rossmore, I do,'' answered 
 the visitor. 
 
 " I am Miss Stewart." 
 
 ** In that case I wish to have a talk with you. You are 
 the lady who was going to marry James Biddulph last 
 winter ?" 
 
 «' Yes." 
 
 " When " — and the woman gave a sort of laugh — " some 
 one unexpectedly appeared and put an end to his love- 
 making ! Mind, I was sorry for him ; he at least believed 
 his wife to be dead, and that he was free to marry any one 
 he had a fancy to. Now, the question is, was she dead, or 
 was she not ? " 
 
 Nora slightly started ; her face flushed deeply arid her 
 lips trembled. 
 
 " Are you," she asked, fixing her dark eyes on the un- 
 
 lovely 
 
 the nig 
 
 "Yes 
 
 his pla< 
 
 And I 
 
 pair, n 
 
 laughec 
 
 he wen 
 
 one poc 
 
 another 
 
 "I— II 
 
 "The 
 
 Stewart 
 
 dulph 
 
 "HOA^ 
 
 Nora, w 
 
 parted u 
 
 " Yes, 
 
 —well, t 
 
 story, of 
 
 one of t 
 
 fact, no c 
 
 and left 1 
 
 down her 
 
 consentec 
 
 be kept a 
 
 ** I kno 
 
 " all the s 
 
 " Yes, 5 
 
 woman bi 
 
 of good f( 
 
 But whai 
 
 money, an 
 
 of — only 
 
 every que 
 
 sister's st 
 
 James Bic 
 
 and forsoc 
 
 "I will 
 
 tion. « If 
 
 thus, I she 
 
 " I don'l 
 
 for that m 
 
 fore him, 
 
 reason for 
 
■« 
 
 vered 
 
 some 
 
 love- 
 
 llieved 
 
 lyone 
 
 lad, or 
 
 Id her 
 
 e un- 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 317 
 
 lovely visage before her, " the woman who went to him on 
 the night before what was to have been our wedding-day ?" 
 
 " Yes, I went to him ; but I did not know till I got to 
 his place that he was going to be married the next day. 
 And I offered, for a certain sum, not to disturb the happy 
 pair, nor interfere with the wedding ; " and again she 
 laughed. " But my gentleman did the high and haughty ; 
 he went and told you ; he put off the marriage, and dragged 
 one poor woman out of her grave, to compare her with 
 another poor woman who sometimes wishes she was in it !" 
 
 " I — I do not understand you ! " 
 
 "The truth is, it all hangs on a question of money. Miss 
 Stewart. I suppose you still wish to marry James Bid- 
 dulph?" 
 
 " How dare you ask mc such a question," answered 
 Nora, with quivering lips and kindling eyes — "you who 
 parted us ! " 
 
 " Yes, I parted you ; but if you make it worth my while 
 — well, that parting can soon be ended. You know the 
 story, of course ; how James Biddulph married long ago 
 one of twin-sisters so like each other that there was, in 
 fact, no difference between them ? He tired of his wife, 
 and left her, and when he got his uncle's money she came 
 down here to ask for her income to be increased, and he 
 consented to this on the condition that his marriage should 
 be kept a secret still ? " 
 
 " I know all this," said Nora, forcing herself to speak — 
 "all the shameful story." 
 
 " Yes, shameful to your ears, no doubt," retorted the 
 woman bitterly, " who were born in a good position, and 
 of good fortune, and to whom men make honorable love ! 
 But what about a woman born of low estate, with no 
 money, anci whom Mr. James Biddulph tried to make a fool^ 
 of — only she was too clever? There are two sides to' 
 every question, young lady, and perhaps my story — or my 
 sister's story, as the case may be — was as shameful to 
 James Biddulph as it was to the poor woman he married 
 and forsook." 
 
 " I will not discuss it," said Nora, trembling with emo- 
 tion. " If you came here only to talk of Mr. Biddulph 
 thus, I should rather you would go away." 
 
 " I don't wish particularly to talk of him, nor abuse him, 
 for that matter. Other men have tired of their wives be- 
 fore him, and other men will tire after him ; and my only 
 reason for naming so common^an occurrence is that it bears 
 
 \ 
 
 ,,)i 
 
 K '■«;■ 
 
 
 '■■'J^ ■' 
 
 I 1 -^a 
 i 
 
3i« 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 upon the little business between you and me,forif Mr. James 
 liiddulph had lived with his wife, you, in all probability, 
 would never have wasted a thought upon him. However, 
 there it is. He did tire of her ; and after he believed that 
 he had got rid of her for good, he was going to marry you, 
 until she, or her likeness in the shape of her twin-sister, 
 stepped in, and the marriage was stopped. You look very 
 much shocked, Miss Stewart, but it is better to speak the 
 truth." 
 
 " The truth ! " repeated Nora, with heaving breast. 
 " What is the truth, then ? Are you Mr. Biddulph's wife, 
 or are you not ? " 
 
 " Ah, that's my secret ! " and she laughed her shrill laugh. 
 "Come, young lady, I'll be honest with you, though you 
 may despise and scorn me as you like. What would you 
 give — I mean, how much money — to know that James 
 Biddulph was free to marry — that his wife in reality is 
 dead?" 
 
 " How much money ! " cried Nora, passionately. 
 " Everything I have — every penny — to know that — that 
 this miserable tie was ended for ever ! " 
 
 " He is so much to you as that?" said the woman, look- 
 ing at Nora's excited face. " Ah, it's a queer thing, love ! 
 I don't want everything you have, though — you would 
 grudge that, I can tell you, after a month or two of marriage. 
 No, I shall be reasonable. If you and he between you will 
 make up ten thousand pounds, I will swear I am not his 
 wife, that I took him in, and that — his wife" — for a mo- 
 ment she hesitated — " is lying here in the grav-^vard." 
 
 " But — but is this true ? " asked Nora, in a broKen voice. 
 " You are not deceiving me for money, as you deceived 
 him, are you ? Oh, think what this is to me ! You, a 
 woman — surely you must know ! " 
 
 * She wrung her hands together in the extremity of her 
 excitement and doubt, and commenced walking with 
 hasty and irregular steps up and down the room, and the 
 woman's eyes followed her. 
 
 " Where is he ? " she asked presently. 
 
 "Where ? " said Nora, stopping abruptly. " He has gone 
 to Monte Carlo to seek you ; some doubts arose in his 
 mind ; he began to believe that you had deceived him, and 
 his lawyer told nim you were there, and he followed you.' 
 
 " So I was there," and the woman shrugged her shoul- 
 ders, " until ten days ago ; but I've the worst luck ever a 
 poor soul had, I believe ! Everything goes wrong with 
 
A STRANG/': MESSAGE. 
 
 3«9 
 
 
 me, that's the truth, Miss Stewart. And so James Rid- 
 dulph has gone to seek mc ? He'll be more anxious to 
 maiie a bargain, then, than he was before ? " 
 
 " He wants but to know the truth," said Nora, eagerly, 
 **and I but want to know it. If you want money you shall 
 have it, but, for God's sake, do not deceive us now ! " 
 
 Her voice trembled with the earnestness and passion of 
 her soul, and fo. a moment the bold black eyes fixed upon 
 her changing face fell, and her visitor moved uneasily. 
 The next, however, the woman looked up again. 
 
 "Did the old doctor that lives down here," she asked, 
 "ever tell you of a certain conversation that he and I had 
 on this same subject ? " 
 
 " Dr. Alexander ? No, never." 
 
 "Yet the 'canny Scot' and I talked it over. I asked 
 him then how much he thought James Biddulph would 
 give if I were to stand up and say I had been humbugging 
 him, and that his wife was dead, But the old doctor read 
 me a fine lecture, and said some hard words which I need 
 not repeat. It ended by him promising to try to get some 
 money for me, which he did, and I went away. But, as I 
 tell you, things have gone wrong with me since then ; in 
 fact, I am ready to make a bargain — to swear, if you like, 
 that I deceived Biddulph ; but I must have the money 
 down before I do this." 
 
 Again Nora fixed her eyes on the woman's face, while a 
 rush of conflicting emotions swept through her heart — re- 
 vulsion, disgust that such a being could live, that there 
 was standing before her one ready to sell her honor, even 
 her soul ! She w^uld swear either way for the highest 
 price ; and on such a creature's oath depended the happi- 
 ness of two lives. 
 
 "I-^I— will send for Mr. Bidduloh," at length faltered 
 Nora. " Until then, what can I say ? " 
 
 "All right; send for him, and name the price. I've 
 doubled it since I was here last. I offered to take five 
 thousand pounds to go away and say nothing to interrupt 
 your marriage ; but then Biddulph said I was sure to 
 come back again — and perhaps he was right ! " And once 
 more she laughed. 
 
 " But," said Nora, moved past ordinary control by these 
 shameless words, " do you not think all this dreadful — 
 most dreadful ? I know nothing of your past life ; I judge 
 alone by your own words. And how can you utter them — 
 how degrade yourself so far ! " 
 
3«> 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGF, 
 
 -if! 
 
 The dark face of the woman she addressed flushed with 
 sudden anger. 
 
 "It's easy talking," she answered, passionately — "easy 
 for such as you to aii fine ideas and lead straight lives — 
 you, who have everything you want for asking, and have 
 no pity for those who have to keep body and soul together 
 by sin or toil. No, you know nothing of my past life, and 
 the less you know the better, perhaps ; you had best send 
 for your housemaid after I am gone, to brusn your carpet, 
 lest some of the dust fallen from my feet should chance 
 to stain it ! " 
 
 She poured forth these words with extraordinary volu- 
 bility and indignation, and stood there defiantly, even 
 while proclaiming what she was. 
 
 " We could all be good women, I dare say," she went on 
 scornfully, " if we had the means to pay for the luxury ; 
 though some of those who have, to be sure, do not set us 
 poor ones a very good example. But what is the good 
 of talking thus ? We must take the world as we find it, 
 and the saints and sinners are very much the same, to my 
 mind ; for instance, you like James Biddulph, yet " 
 
 " I beg you not to mention him," interrupted Nora. 
 " I will let him know what you have said ; and now this 
 conversation had better end." 
 
 "Which means, politely, you had better go away. 
 Well, I can take a hint as well as my betters, so I shall 
 go." 
 
 "And where," asked Nora, shrinking from the question, 
 yet feeling the necessity of making it, "will you stay — 
 until — Mr. Biddulph comes ?" 
 
 " At the little inn at Balla, close here, wher j I have been 
 before. But I won't have to wait long, I expect," she 
 added, with a coarse laugh ; " James Biddulph will soon 
 arrive on the wings of love, and, until then, I shall say 
 good-day tc you ; but remember my terms, mind." And 
 she nodded and went away. 
 
 She left Nora in an almost indescribable state of mind. 
 Her horror of this woman, her shrinking from the thought 
 that she could ever have been Biddulph's wife, was very 
 great, and gradually it seemed to her that he never could 
 have married her ; that this must be the other sister — the 
 viler sister — that had planned to deceive Biddulph — who 
 had deceived him ; and in that case, if she could prove 
 this, he was free ! 
 
 And the sudden joy which had swept over her when she 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 ^t 
 
 i with 
 
 ■" easy 
 ives — 
 I have 
 ^ether 
 fe, and 
 it send 
 ;arpet, 
 chance 
 
 r volu- 
 , even 
 
 ent on 
 ixury ; 
 set us 
 J good 
 find it, 
 to my 
 
 Nora. 
 )W this 
 
 away, 
 shall 
 
 estion, 
 stay — 
 
 been 
 ." she 
 
 soon 
 ill say 
 
 And 
 
 mind. 
 
 LOUght 
 
 s very 
 • could 
 —the 
 
 — who 
 prove 
 
 ^n she 
 
 had first heard of Biddulph's doubts on board the steamer, 
 now stole back to her heart, and the color to her cheeks. 
 What was any sum of money in comparison to this pre- 
 cious knowledge ? Ten thousand pounds ! Nora remem- 
 bered her Aunt Bessie's legacy, and thought how easily 
 this money could be paid, and how gladly. Then she sent 
 a telegram to Biddulph at Monte Carlo—an urgent tele- 
 gram — and began to count the days when it would be 
 possible for him to answer it in person. 
 
 In the meanwhile, it was naturally much talked of in 
 the little village of Balla, the return of the lady who had 
 called herself the wife of Mr. Biddulph, of Dunbaan, and 
 whose former visit, or visits there had been fraught with 
 such momentous consequences. 
 
 The doctor heard "the leedy" was back again, and 
 groaned in spirit at the news, which he shrewdly guessed 
 boded ill for Miss Leonora Stewart's peace of mind. And 
 Alick Fraser heard it, and smiled ; and Jock heard it, and 
 sighed ; and the Rev Andrew Macdonald wondered 
 whether it was his duty to call upon her, partly from spir- 
 itual, and partly from temporal motives. 
 
 One day the doctor, mounted on his sturdy, rough, 
 chestnut-coated pony, actually encountered her ; and Ma- 
 dame de Beranger waved her red sunshade in token of 
 recognition, and smiled and nodded ; while the doctor, af- 
 ter a moment's hesitation, pulled up, and nodded in re- 
 turn. 
 
 " So yer back ? " he said, laconically. 
 
 "The proverbial fate of the bad penny, you know," 
 laughed the woman, with another wave of the red sun- 
 shade, and a merry glance of the ibold dark eyes. " And 
 how wags the world with you, my good friend, the coun- 
 try doctor ?" 
 
 " As weel as I deserve, I dare say," he answered, moving 
 his somewhat ungainly form uneasily; "that's what we 
 mostly get, I think, ma'am." 
 
 " Then I must be a very bad lot, for Ul-luck follows me, 
 and no mistake ! " 
 
 Again the doctor moved uneasily, shook his head, and 
 cleared his throat. 
 
 " Yer not down here again on any ill business, I hope, 
 are ye ?" he asked. 
 
 "I came down to have a talk with James Biddulph. 
 There's no harm in that, is there ? " 
 
 "Maybe there's not ; I canna' take upon niysel' to say." 
 
 ai 
 
 
^22 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 " But Miss Stewart tells me he's at Monte Carlo — gone 
 to seek me there — and I'm waiting on in this lively spot 
 till he returns." 
 
 ** Miss Stewart ?" repeated the doctor. ** Ye've not been 
 troubling Miss Leonora Stewart, surely ! " 
 
 " I'd business with her; I called upon her, that's all," 
 answered Madame de Beranger ; and her eyes fell. 
 
 " Ma'am, ye've not broke yer solemn promise, surely ? " 
 said the doctor, sternly. *■ Ye've not gane to her wi' the 
 lying words ye promised never to speak again, when I gat 
 the money for ye fra' Mr. Biddulph ? " 
 
 *• My good friend, mind your own business — that's my 
 advice to you ?" And she gave the red sunshade an angry 
 shake. 
 
 " But this is my business — the business of any honest 
 mon ! Did ye not promise me not to come here to disturb 
 the young leedy's peace ?" 
 
 " The young leedy, as you call her, seems very well able 
 to take care of herself, and holds herself pretty high, con- 
 sidering all things ! Bah ! My friend, don't bother your 
 head about her ; leave us to make our own bargains and 
 settle our own affairs. Some day, maybe, we'll astonish 
 you." 
 
 ** I believe ye're after na gude. If aught I say can ha' 
 any influence wi' ye- 
 
 It has none,' 
 
 laughed 
 
 the woman, as the 
 
 doctor 
 paused. " There — don't begin to preach ! Good day to 
 you ; I'm tired of standing ; " and again she waved the red 
 sunshade, again nodded, and went on, leaving the poor 
 doctor gazing after her with a very troubled face. 
 
 " Ay, she's an ill tike ! " he thought, disconsolately. 
 "She's gane to Miss Leonora Stewart for na gude, I'm 
 certain ; and the puir lassie wi' nane to gi' her counsel. 
 I'll awaymysel' and see what the hussy has been up to ;" 
 and as he came to this conclusion the doctor turned his 
 pony's head in the direction of Rossmore, and, having 
 arrived there, found Nora looking, he thought, excited 
 and anxious. 
 
 He sat down and said very little, for he was thinking 
 how he could broach such a painful and delicate subject ; 
 but after a little pause Nora herself did this. 
 
 ** Doctor " she began, and then hesitated ; " I wish 
 
 to ask you about somethmg — to tell you of a strange vis- 
 itor who came here the other day." 
 
 " Ay," answered the doctor, nodding his head gravely. 
 
 <( 
 
 (< 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 323 
 
 ha' 
 
 itely. 
 
 I'm 
 Insel. 
 Ito;" 
 his 
 ^ving 
 
 ;ited 
 
 Iking 
 Beet; 
 
 rish 
 vis- 
 
 iiy- 
 
 " Have you heard," went on Nora, with a deep blush, 
 " that the woman who — who called herself Mr. Biddulph's 
 wife is down here again ? " 
 
 "Ay," again said the doctor, with another nod. ** I've 
 just met her, and was sare grieved to see her face." 
 
 " Did she tell you anything ? " asked Nora, eagerly. 
 " She told me she had once spoken to you — about" — and 
 Nora's breath came short — "a doubt which has crept 
 lately, too, into Mr. Biddulph's mind. He thinks he may 
 have iDeen deceived — that this is not the woman he mar- 
 ried, but the twin-sister." 
 
 Nora forced out these words in disjointed sentences, 
 with her eyes fixed on the doctor's face, who looked sadly 
 down as she spoke. 
 
 " She's na gude," he said, with a solemn shake of his 
 head ; " she's a lying tongue of her ain, Miss Stewart, and 
 wad sell her vera soul, I believe, if she could get a 
 bidder." 
 
 " Then you think " faltered Nora, with a chill feel- 
 ing of disappointment creeping into her heart. 
 
 " I think she's come here for money, and will say any- 
 thing to get it. Ha' naught to do wi' her. Miss Stewart ! " 
 
 " But," said Nora, rising excitedly, " you sstid these two 
 — the dead and living sister — were so like each other, no 
 one could tell the difference. You told Lady Barbara 
 this. What if she deceived James, then — if it is his wife 
 who is really dead ? Oh, doctor, think what this would 
 be to us ! " 
 
 She stood before him with clasped hands and pale, 
 parted lips, and the doctor's small eyes grew full of pity. 
 
 " My dear young leedy " he began, and then paused ; 
 
 he was, in truth, afraid to speak, for he saw how deeply 
 Nora was agitated. 
 
 " It was Lady Barbara herself," she continued a moment 
 later — "and you know how shrewd she is — who first put 
 the idea into Mr. Biddulph's mind that he had been 
 deceived. And why should he not have been, doctor ? 
 Was it not more likely that the wife should come down to 
 see him, than she should send her sister ? I cannot but 
 think that the woman who broke off our marriage, who 
 made all this misery, was the twin-sister whom James had 
 never seen." 
 
 "Yet she swore she was the wife in the hoi ^e of God, 
 Miss Stewart," said the doctor, with a sort >■{ solemnity 
 stealing into his voice, " there wi' her dead sioccr lying be- 
 
 H4 
 
 
 
324 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 fore her ; and I looked in her face and believed she was 
 speaking the truth, and I believe it now." 
 
 " But it is impossible to say " 
 
 ** It is impossible, na doot ; for these two— the living 
 and the dead — were cast, seemingly, in the same mould. 
 But true words ha' a ring in them that false ones ha' not, 
 and it seems to me " 
 
 **Yet," interrupted Nora, almost impatiently, as the 
 doctor hesitated, " Mr. Biddulph has begun to doubt, and 
 Lady Barbara doubted, and I own that I do." 
 
 The doctor gave a sort of groan, and again shook his 
 head. Then he rose and held out his large bony hand. 
 
 "It's a bad business fra' first to last," he said. **Weel, 
 good day, Miss Stewart ; if there is anything I can do for 
 ye, just drop me a line." 
 
 "We must wait until Mr. Biddulph returns ; but I can- 
 not help thinking you may be mistaken." 
 
 " Ah, poor lassie," thought the kindly doctor, after he 
 had taken leave of her, and was wending his way among 
 the hills, " it's hard to dash her hopes and his, for it's 
 plain to see what their hearts are set on ! That vile hussy 
 will name a price, and he'll be ready to pay it. God help 
 them, for it's a sare strait ! " 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 THE HANDWRITING. 
 
 It was but natural that this interview with the doctor 
 should only further unsettle and disturb Nora's mind. 
 She saw very plainly that he firmly believed this woman 
 to be Biddulph's wife, and that her only motive for hint- 
 ing at any doubt of this was to gain a large sum of money, 
 which she believed that Biddulph would now be ready to 
 pay. 
 
 The doctor's earnestness so far influenced Nora that her 
 own hopes began to wane, and a great sadness crept over 
 her. It was like a second bitter disappointment, though 
 she had always told herself to expect nothing. And 
 another fact also she could not ignore, which was that the 
 letter she had received long ago was evidently written in 
 the same handwriting as the last one, and thi** w,;s doubts 
 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 325 
 
 ;tor 
 lind. 
 
 Iher 
 ►ver 
 
 .nd 
 
 in 
 
 less strong confirmation of the doctor's belief ; for though 
 these two sisters might have been personally so like that 
 no one could tell the difference between them, it would 
 have been more extraordinary still if their handwriting 
 had been absolutely the same. 
 
 And she knew how bitterly, too, Biddulph would feel 
 all this, and shrank from writing to tell him what the 
 doctor had said. No answer had come to her telegram to 
 Monte Carlo ; but the day after Dr. Alexander had called 
 she received a letter from Biddulph, dated from Paris, 
 whither he had gone in search of Madame de Beranger, 
 as he found she had left Monte Carlo before he had 
 arrived there, and was believed to have proceeded to 
 Paris. In this letter E'ddulph seemed full of hope ; he 
 told Nora that Madame de Beranger was well known at 
 the gambling tables, and had lately lost large sums of 
 money there. One man he had met remembered the 
 twin-sisters, whose likeness to each other was so remark- 
 able that they were said sometimes to personate each 
 other. " In fact, my dear Nora," wrote Biddulph, " I 
 believe now that this wretched woman utterly deceived 
 me, and that it was in truth poor Natalie who was shot in 
 the Glen of Balla. But I shall follow this other one until 
 I find her, and no doubt she will be ready for money to 
 tell the truth, a^d then what is there to part us ? " 
 
 Only a terrible uncertainty of what7£'iz^ the truths Nora's 
 heart answered to this question. This woman was ready 
 to swear she was not Biddulph's wife if she were sufficient- 
 ly paid for doing so ; but a false oath would not undo the 
 marriage. It was a terrible position, Nora felt ; yet when 
 she answered Biddulph's letter she had not strength of 
 mind to tell him of the doctor's words. She told him 
 what the woman had said, or at least she partly told him, 
 and she urged him to come at once to Scotland, "for this 
 uncertainty is too dreadful," she wrote. 
 
 Biddulph's reply to this was a telegram to tell her that 
 he would be with her the next day. And he came late in 
 the evening, looking v/orn and pale, for he was not 
 sufficiently recovered for hasty travelling. They clasped 
 each other's hands, and for a few moments looked mutely 
 in each other's eyes, both reading there the intense anxiety 
 which filled their hearts. 
 
 At last Biddulph spoke. 
 
 "So she is here," he said ; "and you have seen her ?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Nora, and her eyes fell. 
 
 i,: 
 
326 
 
 A STRANGH MESSAGE. 
 
 " I believe we have been utterly imposed upon. I shall 
 see her in the morning, and force her to speak the truth." 
 
 " Oh, if we could but know it ! " said Nora, almost 
 passionately. " Jame% I don't know — I cannot satisfy my- 
 self — Dr. Alexander believes this woman is your vdfe." 
 
 "What can he know about it ? " 
 
 Nora clasped her hands together in great distress. 
 
 " It seems," she said, " that she spoke to him when she 
 was down here before — that she made a sort of offer then, 
 and abked Dr. Alexander how much he thought you would 
 give her if she were to stand up and swear that she had 
 deceived you, and that she was not your wife. But the 
 doctor did not believe her — does not believe her now." 
 
 "But what right," answered Biddulph, in quick anger, 
 " had Alexander to keep such an offer to himself — to give 
 me no hint of this, when he knew how much depended 
 upon it ? " 
 
 " He thought it was just for money, I suppose ; he did 
 not, perhaps, wish to disturb your mind — or mine." 
 
 " But he had no right to think anything of the kind ! 
 Good heavens, Nora, what months of misery we might 
 have been spared had I known this i Of course this is 
 Natalie's twin-sister, then ; she would not have made such 
 an offer unless she were." 
 
 "But — but, James, there is another thing," said Nora, 
 in a faltering voice, **sornething which makes me afraid, 
 uncertain. You remember the letter I got when I first 
 knew you, the letter to warn me — before the woman died 
 in the Glen, you know ? The letter I got the other day 
 was written in the same hand-writing, and in this case " 
 
 Biddulph's face grew blank and dark. 
 
 " Is this so ? " he said, abruptly. " Let me see these let- 
 ters, Nora." 
 
 " Yes ; " and she left the room to get them. And when 
 she returned the frown was still on Biddulph's brow. 
 
 He took them from her hand and laid them side by side, 
 as she had done. They were seemingly written by one 
 person ; there was a little difference here and there, as we 
 see in the same handwriting, and Biddulph noted this as 
 he eagerly scanned the lines. And he thought, too, at 
 this moment of letters he had received long ago — love let- 
 ters uc first, which had grown colder and colder, which 
 apparently also were written by the same hand. 
 
 " This proves nothing," he said. " This woman told me 
 when she came that night — the night before our wedding- 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 3*7 
 
 »» 
 
 te let- 
 
 side, 
 one 
 IS we 
 lis as 
 )0, at 
 let- 
 rhich 
 
 day — that she wrote the letters when her sister, as she 
 pretended then, came down here ; yet one of these letters 
 was written from the little inn at Balla, the day before 
 Natalie was shot. They probably were taught at the same 
 school, and wrote the same handwriting, just as they were 
 alike in everything." 
 
 " Still " began Nora, who was pale and trembling. 
 
 " Nora, will you risk nothing?" interrupted Biddulph, 
 in a voice of passionate reproach. " If this woman is ready 
 to swear she is not my wife, and never was my wife, is not 
 that enough ? /am not so hard to convince." 
 
 " But — but, James, just think — suppose it is a lie — sup- 
 pose we were married and happy, and she came again, and 
 said it was a lie ?" And Nora put her hand over her face, 
 and tears rushed into her eyes. 
 
 "Perhaps you would leave me?" said Biddulph, half 
 bitterly. 
 
 "What could I do ? " answered Nora, with a sob. " Oh, 
 James, let us be sure ; try to trace out her life — don't only 
 believe her word ! Dr. Alexander said she would do any- 
 thing for money, or say anything; and it's so strange 
 about the handwriting. I am afraid — afraid to hope." 
 
 Nora completely broke down as she uttered the last 
 words, and sobs she could not restrain choked her utter- 
 ance. The sight of her grief moved Biddulph, and his 
 expression, which had been moody enough, changed and 
 softened. 
 
 " Forgive me," he said ; and he took her hand. *' I 
 shall see Alexander, and make every inquiry that I can. 
 Don't think I am quite selfish, Nora ; but I really believe 
 that this woman is nothing to me — that it was a clever 
 scheme which she was able to carry out by her extraor- 
 dinary likeness to her dead sister." 
 
 " But Dr. Alexander said she swore when her dead sis- 
 ter lay before her in the kirk at Balla," answered Nora, 
 in a broken voice ; " surely, there, she would not take a 
 false oath ? " 
 
 " How many are taken there, Norr^. ? How many women 
 go into churches and take fplse oaths, and how many 
 men ? What was a false oath to a woman like her, who 
 has lived a long life of deceit and lies ? Ah, my dear, you 
 know nothing of such lives, and I thank God ! " 
 
 Nora did not speak ; she stood there before him, with 
 heaving breast and throbbing heart. 
 
 "You shall judge for yourself, Nora," went on Bid- 
 
 1l 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
328 
 
 j4 strange message. 
 
 dulph ; "judge between she and I. If she is ready to 
 swear what I believe to be the truth — that she is no wife 
 of mine — I will bring her here, and you shall hear t*he 
 words from her own lips." 
 
 "Oh, don't ask me to judge, James!" cried Nora, pit- 
 eously ; " I dare not. Ask Dr. Alexander, Jock Fraser — 
 any one but me." 
 
 ** Well, I can ask Mr. Fraser. I shall go to Alexander's 
 house now, and hear what he has to say. Don't distress 
 yourself thus, my poor girl." 
 
 Again he took her hand, and again they looked into 
 each other's faces as they had done when they had first 
 met. Then Biddulpn put his arm round her and drew her 
 closer to him. 
 
 " It would be hard to part now, wouldn't it ? " he said. 
 
 "Yes,". she half whispered. 
 
 "And I don't believe we shall do so. We have had 
 enough misery, have we not, Nora ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, indeed ! " 
 
 " You must take courage. I shall see you again in the 
 morning, and I shall see this wretched woman and Alex- 
 ander, and I am quite ready to pay her price if she will 
 swear to the truth, and swear never to go back from it." 
 
 "About money, James — I almost forgot," said Nora, 
 putting her hand to her brow, as if trying to think. 
 "Aunt Bessie, you know, left me fifteen thousand pounds 
 which has never been touched. I do not want it." 
 
 "You are a rich young woman," answered Biddulph, 
 trying to speak lightly and smiling. "We can manage 
 about the money, I think ; and now, good night." 
 
 He then left her ; but, long and late after he was gone, 
 Nora sat thinking. It seemed to her there could be no 
 certainty, no dependence on an oath which was to be 
 bought. 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 "my brother-in-law/* 
 
 Early the next morning Biddulph arrived at Dr. Alex- 
 ander's house in Balla, after spending a restless and dis- 
 satisfied night, for his common sense told him, though he 
 had not admitted this to Nora, that the likeness in the 
 handwriting of the two letters was at least a remarkable 
 
 fac 
 
 was 
 
 swe 
 
 det( 
 
 T 
 
 a so 
 
 had 
 
 dul] 
 i( 
 
 chai 
 
 It v^anl 
 nigh 
 and 
 dece 
 day i 
 befoi 
 
 clinei 
 her s: 
 starte 
 gi'to 
 
 "A 
 briefl 
 
 "M 
 ^her w 
 and I 
 
 "Y< 
 
 "M 
 
 "Y( 
 done I 
 
 "H 
 she w: 
 
 "Bi 
 wife ii 
 to you 
 is not. 
 other \ 
 
 "Ti 
 
ady to 
 ao wife 
 3ar ihe 
 
 >ra, pit- 
 raser — 
 
 ander's 
 distress 
 
 :ed into 
 ad first 
 rew her 
 
 ; said. 
 
 ive had 
 
 in the 
 d Alex- 
 she will 
 im it." 
 Nora, 
 think, 
 pounds 
 
 ddulph, 
 manage 
 
 s gone, 
 be no 
 to be 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 zn 
 
 : Alex- 
 
 nd dis- 
 
 gh he 
 
 in the 
 
 rkable 
 
 fact. Yet his ardent desire to believe that this woman 
 was not the Natalie Beranger he had wedded years ago, 
 swept everything before it, and he went to Dr. Alexander's 
 determined to be convinced of nothing else. 
 
 The doctor came down in liis old plaid dressing gown — 
 a somewhat uncouth figure, for he had not shaved, nor yet 
 had breakfasted— and held out his hand, and took Bid' 
 dulph's in a warm and friendly grasp. 
 
 "Ye've come about this bad business. Eh, mon, ye're 
 changed ! " 
 
 " I've gone through a good deal since I've seen you, 
 doctor, and have had a very sharp fight for life." 
 
 " Miss Leonora Stewart told me of yer sare trouble, and 
 of yer goodness to the puir laddie, Malcolm Fraser, whoso 
 r it hame at last ! Eh, Mr. Biddulph i* jeen a tangled 
 _ \veb all this, and now there seems no eii^i of it still." 
 [jt " You know what I have come about ; and now, doctor, I 
 ^^ vant to hear the exact truth. Miss Stewart told me If st 
 night that this woman who is here now — who went to her 
 and offered, for a certain sum of money, to admit she was 
 deceiving us all when she declared she was my wife that 
 day in the kirk, had told or hinted something of this to you 
 before. Is this so ?" 
 
 "Ye mind," answered the doctor, gravely, "when ye de- 
 clined to give her the money she wanted, and sent me to tell 
 her sa, she said she mus^ ha' it ; and then and there ^he 
 started up, and asked me how much she thought ye wad 
 gi' to believe you yersel' again a free mon." 
 
 "And why did you not tell me this ?" asked Biddulph, 
 briefly. 
 
 " Mr. Biddulph, I'll answer ye as I answered her. I told 
 f^^her we were all puir weak, erring creatures, prone to fall, 
 and I thought this offer was tempting ye too far." 
 
 "You might have allowed me to judge of that." 
 
 " Maybe I should, but in my puir judgment " 
 
 "You would have spared me months of pain if you had 
 done so," interrupted Biddulph, as the doctor hesitated. 
 
 " How, Mr. Biddulph ? The woman was lying then, as 
 she wad lie now." 
 
 " But how do you know this ? She swore she was my 
 wife in the kirk, you will say ; but she was ready to swear 
 to you then, and she is ready to swear to me now, that she 
 is not. Why should you believe one oath more than the 
 other ? " 
 
 " Truth is a vera' subtle thing, Mr. Biddulph. That, 
 
330 
 
 ;a strange message. 
 
 woman standing there in the h^use of God that day had it 
 in her eyes and on her tongue, to my mind, and when she 
 made this oiler she had not." 
 
 *' This is only your own idea. And have you forgotten 
 tliat Natalie's wedding-ring — the ring with which I 
 married her, at least — was certainly found on the dead 
 woman's hand ? " 
 
 ** Ay ; but what about the words she whispered in yer 
 ear — the words ye said none but she could know ?" 
 
 A dark flush rose to Biddulph's very brow. 
 
 " They were only some folly," he said, abruptly ; " some 
 stupid speech I made when I first placed it on Natalie's 
 hand, which she no doubt had repeated to her sister." 
 
 " But ye did not think this that day in the kirk ?" 
 
 " I do now, at all events ; and I want you to go to her 
 and, if you will be so good, to arrange about the money, 
 and also about the time when she will make a solemn 
 declaration — take an oath, in fact — that she is not my 
 wife, before witnesses. I think of asking Mr. Eraser, of 
 Airdlinn, to be present." 
 
 But the doctor shook his head. 
 
 " I'll ha* naught to do wi' it," he said ; " it's unjust to 
 the young leedy, whose soul is white as snaw." 
 
 "It's unjust to me that my whole life should be ren- 
 dered wretched by a false claim ! " 
 
 " But is it false ? " said the doctor, fixing his small scru- 
 tinizing eyes on Biddulph's dark, agitated face. " Mr. 
 Biddulph, doesn't a sma' voice within ye whisper that this 
 sin — this folly of yer youth, we may call it — hangs round 
 yer threat heavy as a millstane still ? " 
 
 " I will throw it off, then," said Biddulph, flinging back 
 his head with a passionate gesture ; " I will see this woman 
 if you will not ; and if she will swear on the Bible she is 
 no wife of mine " 
 
 "She would sell her vera soul," interrupted the doctor. 
 
 " Let her sell it, then ! I believe she's a vile impostress, 
 who traded on her likeness to her dead sister. I wish you 
 good morning. Dr. Alexander;" and, with a somewhat 
 haughty bow, Biddulph took up his hat and went away. 
 
 Yet scarcely was he gone when his heart reproached 
 him for being angry with a good man for speaking ac- 
 cording to his conscience. The doctor thought differ- 
 ently to what Biddulph so earnestly wished ; but, as he 
 did think so, Biddulph knew that, for Nora Stewart's 
 sake, he was justified in expressing his opinion. And 
 
 I 
 
 Bi( 
 
 fro 
 
 Ah 
 
 his 
 
 woi 
 
 \ 
 
 Ma 
 
 pea 
 
 a v< 
 
 wail 
 
 sag( 
 
 ol t 
 
 whe 
 
 Si 
 
 she 
 
 \ "^ 
 , Jpor 
 
 worn 
 jscori 
 lanxic 
 ilask 
 
 I "^ 
 
 jthe ti 
 
 i"T 
 *'^ 
 ou 1; 
 hen 
 "H 
 Bid 
 Uon. 
 ' "Y( 
 
 iss 5 
 
 k 
 
 oe cer 
 :his ; : 
 |ven > 
 ' "W 
 "I 1 
 Ife ; b 
 Jatalii 
 ow y( 
 The 
 '' Yo 
 "It 
 
'a st/^ajvge message. 
 
 331 
 
 Biddulph's head fell low on his breast as he slowly walked 
 from tlie doctor's house to the little inn at Balla. Dr. 
 Alexander's strong convictions had not tended to make 
 his mind easier ; it inlluenced him as honest, truthful 
 words ever will. 
 
 When he reached the small hostelry, and asked for 
 Madame de Beranger, he was told she had not yet ap- 
 peared. Biddulph was still so lame that to walk was 
 a very great exertion to him, and he therefore sat down to 
 wait until she was ready to receive him. She sent a mes- 
 sage that she would not be long, and presently the door 
 ol the little parlor opened, and Biddulph half started 
 when he saw the strangely familiar dark face appear. 
 
 She smiled a little scornfully, and nodded her head as 
 she walked into the room. 
 
 ** So you've come to seek me this time ? " she said. 
 
 "Yes," answered Biddulph, still with his eyes fixed 
 ike a solemn ^p^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ 
 
 e IS not my n y^QW^ are you willing to come to terms ? " went on the 
 ylr. Fraser, 01 ^oman who called herself Madame de Beranger, yet more 
 
 scornfully. " Are you and the you.ig lady who are so 
 anxious to marry each other willing to pay down the sum 
 
 t day had it 
 ,d when she 
 
 lU forgotten 
 h which I 
 )n the dead 
 
 )cred in yer 
 ow r 
 
 ptly ; " some 
 on Natalie's 
 r sister." 
 kirk?" 
 to go to her 
 t the money, 
 
 ' it's unjust to 
 
 k" 
 
 lould be ren- 
 
 lis small scru- 
 
 r 
 
 U asked for the luxury ? " 
 
 1 "I am willing to pay you a large sum if you will speak 
 
 Ihe truth." 
 
 "The truth that is most pleasant to you — eh ?" 
 "No, the real truth," said Biddulph, firmly. "Were 
 face. " Mr. Lqu lying or speaking the truth that day in the kirk here, 
 sper that this J^hen you claimed to be the woman whom I believed dead ? " 
 -hangs round « How much will you give to know ? " 
 
 Biddulph frowned and bit his lips at this mocking ques- 
 flingingback ^on. 
 
 e this woman ; « You named a price," he said the next moment, '* to 
 ; Bible she is \[\ss Stewart ; that price, great as it was, I would give to 
 oe certainly assured that I was free. But you must prove 
 d the doctor. :his ; for Miss Stewart's sake, I cannc . accept your word, 
 le impostress, »ven your oath alone." 
 •. I wish you | « What do you mean by proving it ? " 
 L a somewhat I « I mean you must go into some details of your past 
 went away. fife ; bring forward some witness to prove that you are 
 t reproached fcatalie's twin-«ister, and not Natalie herself, as I believe 
 speaking ac- low you onfy pretended you were." 
 ought differ- f The woman laughed her strange shrill laugh. 
 
 but, as he 
 jra Stewart's 
 [pinion. And 
 
 "You have grown very particular," she said. 
 
 " It is for Miss Stewart's sake, I repeat ; this has cost 
 
 
33* 
 
 A ST/^ANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 her enough pain already, cruel pain, and I do not wish to 
 add to it. Surely you have some friend whom you can 
 bring forward to prove your words ?" 
 
 Again she laughed. 
 
 "I have borne Natalie's name lately, of course^" she 
 said — " the name she took when you refused her yours — 
 and have been known as Madame de Beranger, since my 
 income depended upon this, as you are aware. Her friends 
 have been mine naturally, and mine hers. One of us was 
 known to be dead ; but the one who had the rich husband 
 who would not acknowledge her, was supposed to be alive. 
 I had to play the part I had chosen, you know!" 
 
 "And you will swear that you were acting — swear that 
 you are not Natalie Beranger, but Josephine ?" 
 
 "I will swear this for the sum I named." 
 
 *' Who was your husband ? Is he dead ? " 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders, and laughed aloud. 
 
 *' I am happily rid of him ! " she said. 
 
 " What was his name ? " persisted Biddulph. 
 
 "Why do you want to know ? " 
 
 " I want to trace your past history — to find out that you 
 are not deceiving me again." 
 
 " I don't want my past history traced out. My life has 
 not been quite a bed of roses, I can tell you ; but I am 
 ready to swear j^w are not my husband — ready, to swear I 
 took you in for the sake of getting Natalie's income, as I 
 had none of my own. There ! Will that not satisfy you ? 
 It will the young lady, I am sure, for she's so desperately 
 fond of you that she said she would give her whole fortune 
 to know that you were free." 
 
 Biddulph's face slightly flushed. 
 
 "And you will go to her and swear that I am ? " he said 
 — "swear before her friends that you deceived me when 
 you pretended my wife still lived ? " 
 
 " I will swear this — you know what for ? " 
 
 "Yes, I know." 
 
 " And you will give me this money before I do this ? " 
 
 " I will give you half of it, and my bond for the rest." 
 
 " All right. I can bring forward a friend, if you like, 
 too, who will swear I am — Josephine." 
 
 "You had better do this. When can you brings forward 
 this friend ? " 
 
 "Let me consider — this is Tuesday. He can be down 
 to this benighted region by Thursday. He lives in town ; 
 he is half a Frenchman. "^ 
 
A STA'.'IJVGE MESSAGE. 
 
 333 
 
 " Very well ; on Thursday nfternoon, then, will you atid 
 this friend go to Miss Stewart .'it Russmorc, and there de- 
 clare that you never were married to nie ; that you as- 
 sumed your dead sister's name for the sake of money \ 
 and your friend will bear you out in this ? " 
 
 "It is settled, then ; you agree to my terms, and I will 
 keep my word." 
 
 " (Jood day, then, until Thursday;" and Hiddulph 
 bowed gfavely, and slowly left the room. 
 
 *'Good-by, my broihcr-in-law !'' cried tlie woman in 
 mocking tones as he left her ; and somehow her words 
 had a false ring to liiddulph's anxious ears. 
 
 CHAPTER LI II. 
 
 DOUBTFUL EVIDENCE. 
 
 |ke, 
 
 ird 
 Iwn 
 
 Two days of suspense yjassed away ; of suspense so 
 cruel that Nora Stewart so letimes wished that this (jues- 
 tion had never been mooted ; that she had remained Bid- 
 dulph's friend, without the fond hopes and bitter doubts 
 which now so constantly beset her heart. And Biddulph, 
 too, looked pale and anxious. He had seen Jock Fraser 
 on the matter, and honest Jock had declared he could not 
 understand it. Dr. Alexander remained firm, he de- 
 clined to have anything to do with it. And the two to 
 whom it meant so much spoke of it with clasped hands 
 and bated breath 
 
 "It is more than life to me, I think," Biddulph said, and 
 Nora could only answer with a sigh. 
 
 At last the hour came when the momentous declaration 
 was to be made, and at Nora's earnest request Jock Era- 
 ser had consented to be present. Biddulph was standing 
 near Nora when the house-bell rang, and Jock came in 
 and silently shook Nora's hand, looking at her very kind- 
 ly as he did so. Then again the door-bell rang, and this 
 time two strangers were ushered into the drawing-room by 
 Alfred ; and as the eyes of the three already assembled 
 there fell on the face of the man who had come to confirm 
 the woman's story, they all felt at once that they were 
 looking at a most dubious witness. 
 
 He was middle-aged, dark, and foreign-looking, with 
 longish, greasy black hair, parted so as to endeavor to 
 
3i4 
 
 ^ STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 conceal that he 
 
 They Tvere bold h^d . a ^^'^^ 
 
 fact, on whirh tK^'- ^ ^'^^ crafty • he Kn^ 
 dusky sh3s '^^jj^P^-^ss of -•'n ^iZ^tu^V.^ '^?' *» 
 
 ./'^^^ -e aM .Uh e.e. „o. ..ant ^°"^^"^- 
 
 . " This is my friend " . "'"^' ^°'"''"- 
 
 ;n the dubious lookin,, '^''^' ^«^i"g her red , ^. 
 J'ke it better, MSrnl '''^^"'"V"^^^^^ 
 
 , She tripped andTu';;^^''" children?' "^^ '"^«". Poor 
 
 t^:rte;S4^"^-'"n^e5 r^o^^''^'' -'<' 
 
 parted fps and', •'??^ herl>ands tlefher / ^^"'''^•' """ 
 
 "And he fs 1% """'"^ ''^^'■t- ^""''^' ^■"1 stood with 
 
 poi'h^'" "" 'hf ^K 7-t on the woman rapidly 
 ried my sfste?"'''"'^^ ^' Bidduiph ' ■^Thil'"'""/' ^"^ «&' 
 
 , "pSirT^Sy ^'A^r'^/o -ear'^^hiar?"'"^^- 
 
 continue^ s^l^r/f-^- / hav'e'\:nh\" It^o^r ^ 
 knowmg this'^ladv fnd".^. !?_^"r foreign acceSr'' -'^f 
 
 ~f«.*,»__ 
 
the express 
 hearts with 
 
 evil face, in 
 t^ad left its 
 Jntered the 
 iree stand- 
 and stood 
 ' con versa- 
 
 lal volubil- 
 
 sunshade. 
 
 or if you 
 
 eman has 
 
 since my 
 lean, poor 
 
 e had said 
 rself ; but 
 tood with 
 
 fi rapidly^ 
 
 and she 
 Tian mar. 
 ee?" 
 
 with a 
 free, who 
 
 nor,^' he 
 
 nt, *'of 
 
 he pro- 
 te their 
 
 >h, in a 
 
 sed his 
 
 rriage. 
 "and 
 
 en ;" 
 oking 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 335 
 
 " I will swear it ! These ladies and I have no secrets. 
 I know all about Monsieur Whitaker and Biddulph." 
 
 "And you know," said Biddulph, with a darkling brow, 
 ^'that this woman came to me and swore falsely — pretend- 
 ed she was her dead twin-sister ?" 
 
 Once more Monsieur Dobree raised his shoulders and 
 hands to express regret. 
 
 " Alas, I know ! " he said. " Madame Whitaker was what 
 you call hard up. What could she do ! You must pity and 
 forgive her." 
 
 " It was a vile deception ! " said Biddulph, passionately. 
 **■ But you are ready now, and she is ready to swear before 
 this gentleman and lady that you both are now speak- 
 ing the truth." 
 
 " I swear it as a gentleman ! " cried Monsieur Dobree, 
 grandly. 
 
 "And you ?" said Biddulph, looking at the woman fix- 
 edly. 
 
 "I swear it, too. When poor Josephine was shot " 
 
 " Fool ! " muttered Monsieur, with tight-drawn lips. 
 
 "I mean poor Natalie, of course," continued the wo- 
 man, with a little conscious laugh and a dusky blush ; 
 ■*' but your Highland whiskey is so strong, my brain seems 
 half muddled." 
 
 But Nora had caught Biddulph's hand as she again had 
 uttered the word "Josephine." 
 
 ** She is not speaking the trnth, James," she half-whis- 
 pered in his ear ; I do not believe her. Ask iier about the 
 handwriting, I believe this is Natalie." 
 
 " Did you write the letter to warn Miss Stewart I was a 
 married man ? " asked Biddulph, sharply, the next mo- 
 ment. 
 
 '' Yes— at least " 
 
 " And the one you wrote to her lately, to tell her you 
 had something to communicate to her ? " 
 
 The woman looked as if afraid to commit herself ; she 
 hesitated, she glanced uneasily at Dobree. 
 
 " I get puzzled," she said presently ; " you ask so many 
 questions." 
 
 " I think," said Dobree, with a profound bow, " if this 
 young lady and madame will permit me to suggest, that 
 this interview had better be deferred until another day. 
 Madame, in her. agitation, had taken more of the potent 
 spirit of this land than is good for her brain. She is a 
 little muddled, in fact ; but if Monsieur Biddulph will come 
 
336 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 with me and her to the small inn, I shall prove to his satis- 
 faction and the young lady's that this is Josephine Berang- 
 er, the twin-sister of Monsieur Biddulph's late wife. Witli 
 your permission we shall now take our leave, and I shall 
 communicate with monsieur." 
 
 He bowed to Biddulph as he spoke, and offered his 
 arm to the woman, who took it without speaking, and 
 they left the room together. Nora and Biddulph looked 
 at each other as they went out, and there was bitter pain 
 in Nora's eyes. 
 
 " James," she said, clasping his hand, and forgetting the 
 presence of Jock Fraser, *' it is all false ! We cannot 
 believe her, nor the man ! " 
 
 " He's a disreputable looking fellow, and I don't believe 
 a word he has been saying," said Jock Fraser, bluntly. 
 " Nora, my dear, you cannot act on such evidence as this." 
 
 *' No," she answered. " James, don't go near them any 
 more," she continued, looking up in Biddulph's agitated 
 face ; " we — we must forget what — we have hoped might 
 be — we must still be friends." 
 
 She was very pale, and the bitterness of tlie disappoint- 
 ment was very great ; but still she bore herself with a 
 certain dignity, and displayed far greater calmness than 
 Biddulph, whose face was black as night. 
 
 "Then you give up all doubt ? " he said, abruptly. 
 
 " I — am afraid so." 
 
 ^^ I cannot!'' he answered, with bitter emphasis and 
 passion. 
 
 " Biddulph," said Jock Fraser, kindly but firmly, " it's. 
 no use, my dear fellow, going on the word of such a man 
 as that. Nora could not do it ; you could not ask her. 
 It's hard to have to say such a thing, but I believe this^ 
 woman is your wife." 
 
 " I'll see the fellow, at any rate," said Biddulph, " and 
 I'll try to find out about this Whitaker. It may be a 
 patched up story, but there may be some truth in it after 
 
 all." 
 
 '♦ I fear not," answered Jock, and Nora's heart echoed 
 
 his'vvords. 
 
 Then, presently, Jock went away, and Nora and Bid- 
 dulph were alone. 
 
 *' Don't give up all hope, Nora," he said, taking both: 
 her hands. 
 
 She looked up in his face and smiled a sad smile. 
 
 *'We shall always be friends, you know," she said gent- 
 
 ~„ . ' 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 337 
 
 e to his satis- 
 
 line Berang- 
 
 3 wife. With 
 
 and I shall 
 
 offered his 
 leaking, and 
 ulph looked 
 > bitter pain 
 
 :>rgetting the 
 We cannot 
 
 don't believe 
 ser, bluntly. 
 3nce as tiiis." 
 ;ar them any 
 )h's agitated 
 loped might 
 
 I disappoint- 
 rself with a 
 Imness than 
 
 -uptly. 
 
 iphasis and 
 
 firmly, " it's- 
 such a man 
 ot ask her. 
 elieve this 
 
 |ulph, " and 
 may be a 
 in it after 
 
 ;art echoed 
 
 |a and Bid- 
 
 lakins: both: 
 
 lile. 
 
 said gent- 
 
 ly ; and he 'cnew from her manner she meant they could 
 be nothing more. 
 
 The same night, about ten o'clock, the doctor was sit- 
 ting refreshing himself with his accustomed toddy, before 
 retiring to his well-earned rest, when a loud rapping at 
 the surgery door disturbed him, and, with a sigh, he laid 
 down his pipe and went to open it. 
 
 Outside stood the village innkeeper, with an agitated, 
 frightened face. 
 
 ''Anything wrang, Jamie ?" asked the doctor, who was 
 well acquainted with the man. 
 
 Then the innkeeper in many words told his story. The 
 ** leedy " who was supposed to be the wife of Mr. Biddulph 
 of Dunbaan had been staying at his house for some days 
 past, and this morning a friend, "a queer-looking foreign 
 chap," came to visit her, and they went out together dining 
 the afternoon. But before they went " the leedy," by the 
 innkeeper's account, drank many glasses of whiskey, and 
 the man (the foreigner) seemed angry with her for doing 
 this. And when they returned high words were exchanged 
 between thOTi ; but afterward more whiskey was called 
 for, and then they apparently began to quarrel again — at 
 least, the people in the room below thought they even 
 heard the sound of blows. At five o'clock, however, the 
 man came downstairs, and seemed all right. He told the 
 innkeeper he was going out for a little walk, as " ma- 
 dame," who had been agitated and fatigued, had lain 
 down to rest in the sitting-room, and was not to be dis- 
 turbed until she rang the bell. **But I shall return for a 
 little supper, my friend," he added to the innkeepe/, and 
 thus left the house smilingly. But he had nei'cr returned ; 
 and half an hour ago the innkeeper's wife, becoming 
 alarmed at " madame's " prolonged slumber, had knocked 
 at the sitting-room door, and, receiving no answ.er, had 
 ventured to open it. 
 
 Madame was lying huddled up on the sofa, with a shawl 
 over her head. The innkeeper's wife asked her if she were 
 ill, but got no reply. Then the innkeeper's wife went 
 nearer, and something in her attitude and her silence 
 frightened the woman, who drew the shawl from her face» 
 when a terrible si2;ht met her gaze. There was blood on 
 her hair, blood on her brow, and her dress also was 
 stained. 
 
 22 
 
! 
 
 338 
 
 A STRANG E MESSAGE. 
 
 " My belief is, doctor, the villain has just knocked her 
 on the head and murdered her," said the innkeeper, with 
 scared looks ; " but ye best see. My old woman is in a 
 sare state, and the whole house upside down." 
 
 The doctor, we may be sure, lost no time in hurrying 
 on his coat and following the innkeeper home ; and when 
 he reached the same little parlor where his own two for- 
 mer interviews with the woman who had called herself 
 Madame de Beranger had taken place, he found her now 
 lying cold and still in death. 
 
 Long the doctor stood and looked at the changed face, 
 at the half-open, blank dark eyes, which now smiled scorn- 
 fully no more. At last this chequered life — r life whose 
 dusky shadows none could know — had ended, like her 
 twin-sister's, in a violent and sudden death. She had been 
 struck on the head by some heavy instrument, and her 
 skull was broken, and the splinters had pierced iier brain. 
 The weapon with which the cruel deed had been com- 
 mitted was not difficult to find. On an old iron poker in 
 the fender there was a blood-stain, to which adhered some 
 coarse dark hair. The man she had brought to confirm 
 her story (true or false) had murdered he% probably in a 
 rage at her breaking down in her evidence, and then 
 had disappeared, carrying Biddulph's check with him, 
 which, however, was never cashed, nor the murderer ever 
 found. 
 
 It was a dark end to a dark life, and with a sigh the doc- 
 tor turned away, going out into the night with some very 
 solemn feelings' in his heart. Then he looked at his watch, 
 and a kindly smile stole over his rugged features. 
 
 . " It's unco' late," he muttered ; " still I'll gane to Ross- 
 more, and tell the bonny lassie the news ; she may as weel 
 sleep wi' a light heart as a heavy one." 
 
 And when Nora heard — there was nothing now at least 
 to part her from one whom she loved so well — like a fool- 
 ish woman she broke down, and for a few minutes could 
 not keep back her tears. 
 
 " Na, ye must na' greet," said the doctor, patting her 
 on the shoulder, as if she were a child, with his big hand. 
 "We'll ha' a wedding after a ' now, and I'll dance a reel at 
 it mysel' if I ha' a leg to stand on ! " 
 
 " Doctor," said Nora, pleadingly, looking up at the face 
 of her old friend with her dark eyes, *' would you mind — 
 it's a shame to ask you when it is so late — still, would you 
 mind going to-night to Dunbaan, to tell him ?" 
 
 Jj 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 339 
 
 t knocked her 
 mkeeper, with 
 is in a 
 
 woman 
 
 5 in hurrying 
 ne ; and when 
 J own two for- 
 called herself 
 ound her now 
 
 changed face, 
 smiled scorn- 
 — r life whose 
 ded, like her 
 She had been 
 lent, and her 
 ed her brain, 
 id been com- 
 ron poker in 
 idhered some 
 It to confirm 
 jrobably in a 
 e, and then 
 with him, 
 urderer ever 
 
 jigh the doc- 
 some very 
 his watch, 
 res. 
 
 me to Ross- 
 nay as weei 
 
 low at least 
 like a fool- 
 liutes could 
 
 )atting her 
 s big hand, 
 ce a reel at 
 
 It 
 
 "Weel," answered the doctor, with a little comical 
 shrug, " I'll be na doot vera' welcome, so I'll just gane." 
 
 And tliough the hour was late, and the aight dark the 
 kindly man crossed the loch with the tidings that were to 
 give the gloomy owner of Dunbaan relief too great for 
 words. Biddulph was standing smoking on the terrace 
 before liis house, with folded arms and a restless, miserable 
 heart, when the tall form of the doctor emerged from the 
 mitt and approached him. 
 
 "Weel, Mr. Biddulph, I've brought a message for ye," 
 he began. 
 
 " A message ? " repeated Biddulph, quicWy. 
 
 " Ay, fra' the young leedy at Rossmore. She bade me 
 tell ye she'd be pleased to see ye in the morn." Then he 
 told what he had really gone to tell, and Biddulph listened 
 with deep emotion, and in silence wrung the doctor's 
 hand. 
 
 **This ends all doubt, then," he said, a few moments 
 later. " Thank God, at last I am free ! " 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 Need we go with him on the morrow to Rossmore, or 
 tell of the meeting which took place in the shady garden, 
 during which at first few words were spoken ? They met, 
 these two, like those meet who together have escaped 
 some great peril, and clasped each other's hands in silent 
 joy. For to both the passing away of the bar between 
 them — a bar uncertain, doubtful, Biddulph ever after- 
 ward maintained — was a release from a haunting shadow, 
 a grief which only could have ended with the woman's 
 death, whose deceit, or that of her twin-sister had dark- 
 ened Biddulph's life. 
 
 And her secret died with her. Whether the woman 
 that Biddulph had wedded long ago perished in the Glen 
 of Balla, or by the hand of her so-called friend, remained 
 among one of those unanswered problems of which hu- 
 man life is full. The mysterious likeness between the 
 two sisters made it, in fact, impossible to tell the end of 
 which doubtful and dishonored life set Biddulph free. 
 
 at the face 
 
 ■ou mind — 
 
 would you 
 
340 
 
 A STRAI^GE MESSAGE, 
 
 'm 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 ! 
 
 TRUE LOVE. 
 
 There was a quiet marriage about a month after this, \ 
 but not at Rossmore. Nora was married from Lady Bar- 
 bara Biddulph's house in town, that lady especially de- 
 siring that this might be, "As I suppose, James," she said, 
 with her usual brusqueness, to her nephew, " that there is 
 no fear of a M/V^ woman laying claim to you ? " 
 
 Biddulph having assured his aunt that this need not be 
 dreaded nor anticipated, Lady Barbara wrote a kind letter 
 to Nora, and also invited the doctor to be present at the 
 ceremony. 
 
 This invitation gave the good man great pride and 
 pleasure, but much perplexity. For one thing, he had a 
 secret fear of Lady Bab's sharp tongue, and for another, 
 some of his poor patients at this time were sorely in need 
 of his aid. Finally, he decided not to go to the marriage, 
 writing to tell Lady Bab ** that such things are a bit out 
 of my way ; " at the same time thanking her for the honor 
 she had done him, and wishing that all God's best gifts 
 should be given to the two " who were about to share, and 
 thus lighten, the burdens of our mortal life." 
 
 He also gave a gift to the bride before she left Scotland 
 — a gift about which the halo of an old romance still hung ; 
 for in the days of his young manhood the doctor had bought 
 this pretty, simple pearl ring, meaning to give it to the 
 girl he then silently worshipped, when fame and fortuue 
 came to him. 
 
 Fame and fortune never came to him, and his love wed- 
 ded another, not even knowing of the faithful heart she 
 had won. But the doctor made no second choice, and for 
 thirty years the ring never saw the light. 
 
 It pained him even now to look at it, though he had 
 often thought of this unused love-token ; but a few days 
 before Nora left Rossmore, he arrived with it in his waist- 
 coat pocket, and presented it to her with a blush and a 
 sigh. 
 
 "I bought it lang ago," he said, with simple pathos, 
 **when I had my dreams, too, maybe, Miss SteAvart ; but 
 no woman's hand has ever worn it— and though it's a puir 
 
 t 
 
 ^ 
 
A STRANGE MESSAGE, 
 
 34 T 
 
 >tland 
 
 iung; 
 
 ught 
 
 lo the 
 
 Irtuue 
 
 wed- 
 |t she 
 
 for 
 
 had 
 
 [days 
 
 raist- 
 
 id a 
 
 [hos, 
 
 but 
 
 Ipuir 
 
 thing amnng all yer gauds, still if ye'll take it, and my 
 blessing alang wi' it " 
 
 He turned his head abruptly away, :«^solutely to hide 
 that his eyes were dim with tears ; and 1^'ora, seeing this, 
 caught his large hand in both her own. 
 
 " I shall always ^ rize it," she said, earnestly; " and I shall 
 never forget, doctor, all the true kindness you have shown 
 to us in our great troubles." 
 
 "Which, v/ith God's good grace, are, I pray, ended," 
 answered the doctor, reverently, for the man's heart was 
 full of simple, pious faith. 
 
 But all Nora's neighbors did not give her such good 
 wishes. Alick Fraser heard the news of her second en- 
 gagement to Biddulph with secret but bitter anger. He 
 sent no present this time, but left Scotland ; and a few 
 days later, Nora, with a little surprise and amusement, 
 received a letter from Maud Lee to announce her engage- 
 ment to "our country cousin." 
 
 Alick, in fact, hid his disappointment as best h.'^ could, 
 and his offer to Miss Lee was accepted with pleasure and 
 alacrity. She had always intended to marry a rich man if 
 she possibly could do so, and was delighted to have suc- 
 ceeded. They were married very shortly after Nora and 
 Biddulph — two people who knew nothing of each other, 
 and cared nothing; who married for mutual convenience, 
 and therefore, it is hoped, expected nothing but what they 
 bargained for. 
 
 his brother's weddi 
 
 g^J 
 
 'ft' 
 
 Nora's. The blow of her son's death had struck home in 
 the mother's heart, and Jock would not leave his grief- 
 stricken wife ; but Minnie went to both marriages, and at 
 each the languid Glendoyne paid her so much attention 
 that, as Minnie is now the future owner of Airdlinn, people 
 say it will end in a marriage ; Nora Biddulph, it is also 
 said, doing her best to arrange this. 
 
 One picture more, when a bright August sun was shin- 
 ing on the lofty headland of Rossmore, and on the blue 
 loch that lapped its steeps. A happy picture of a young 
 wife sitting on the grass, looking smilingly up in the face 
 that to her is beautiful ; a grave face still though, for that 
 shadowed youth of his has left its mark on Biddulph's 
 brow, and the memory of those bitter days of shame and 
 pain has not /et passed away. 
 
342 
 
 A STRANGE MESSAGE. 
 
 But they love each other with a love no words can tell, 
 a love strong, tender ; for between them is that strange 
 soul-link which no time can snap. 
 
 *' Do not look so grave," said Nora, rising and laying 
 her hands on his shoulders, for she knew by the dreamy 
 look in his gray eyes of wliat he was thinking. 
 
 He turned round and laid his head agai^ist her arm. 
 
 "I was thinking gravely," he answered, *' thinking how' 
 miserable I might now have been — but for you." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 i 
 
lo words can tell, 
 m is that strange 
 
 rising and laying 
 
 !W by tiie dreamy 
 
 nking. 
 
 aiust lier arm. 
 
 :d, '• thinking how 
 
 or you."