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5 *

JAPV

The essenc

JAMES HEPBURN.

Free Church Minister,

SOPHIE F. F. VEITCH,

AUTHOR or

"ANGUS GRAEME, GAMEKEEPER," Etc,

The essence of sin is selfishness: the essence of selfishness is

individualism.

TORONTO :
WILLIAMSON & CO., PUBLISHERS.

1888.

?K ^^3 . 'J^ -i

Fr. tered according to Act of Parlisment of Canada, in the Office of the Minister of
Asrriculture, by Williamson h Compahy, in ihe year 1888.

COM TENTS.

Chap. I. — The Minister,

II. — Society in Mossoiel,
III. — Black Sheep in Mossgiel,
IV. — Stuathellon,

V. — Muscular Christianity,
,Vr. — Serious Misgivings, -
VII. — A Psychological Puzzle
VIII. — Over Disciplined,
IX. — Ball Boom Incidents, -
X. — A Soft-Spoken Elder,
XL — A Deputation,
XII. — A Clue and a Revelation,
XIII. — An Ugly Onslaught, -
XIV. — A Riot op Tongues, -
XV. — A New Revelation,
XVI.— Danger Increasing, -
XVII. — A Lion in the Path,
XVIII. — Crime or Accident, -
XIX. — Confidences,

PAGE.

104

116

133

145

155

166

179

193

203

215

228

241

161131

4 CONTENTS.

XX. — MUTTERINOS OP THE StORM, - - 266

XX I«^A Last Chance, 269

XXII.— A Thunderbolt, .... 280

XXIII.— A Tanoled Skein, .... 294

XXIV.— A Summer Cruise, . - - - 306

XXV. — Different Points op View, - - . 320

XXVI. — Predictions Verified, - - - 331

XXVII. — Bad Symptoms - - - - 345

XXVIII. -A Resolution, 363

XXIX. — The Beginning of a Momentous Day, - 375

XXX. — The End op a Momentous Day, - 387

XXXI. — A Strange Conference, - - 401

256

269

280

294

306

320

331

345

363

375

387

401

JAMES HEPBURN.

Chapter I.

THE MINISTER,

ACROSS a wide stretch of dreary level moor the Free
Church minister of Dunross was wending his way
towards home, at a rapid pace, one cheerless, foggy after-
noon, late in the autumn. There were certainly no temp-
tations to linger by the way. On a bright August or
September afternoon, when the purple heather bloom was
glowing under the rays of an unclouded sun, and picturesque
ranges of hills were visible in the distance, the scene was
not devoid of all beauty; but when, as at the moment, a
dull brown expanse, broken only by occasional patches of
coarse grass, or scattered boulders of stone, faded at a few
hundred yards distance into grey mist, and a raw, cold wind
was driving frequent scuds of light rain across the country*
the spot was not one where any human being of ordinarily
healthy turn of mind would have felt disposed to linger.
The minister certainly did not linger. It would have sorely
taxed any one, save a very practised walker, to keep pace
with him for a couple of miles ; and his long strides soon
brought him to where the mere track he had been following
gradually defined itself into a road. There, ascending a
slight rise, he reached the head of a gradually widening glen,
along the sides of which straggled the village of Dunross,
in all the cold, stern solidity which is the leading character*

Jamea Hepburn.

iitic of a Scottigh village. Dunross presented no salient
feature to the eye, beyond the "Free Church, seeming to
assert itself a trifle ostentatiously on the summit of one
knoll, with its manse on the top of another knoll close at
hand.

As he reached this point on his homeward way the min-
ister heaved a deep sigh, as in truth he had often done
before, at that particular spot. Measured by his estimate
of things, the lines had not fallen to him in pleasant places ;
yet he had his own private reasons for cherishing a secret
conviction that no ploasanter ones were in store for him ;
he should probably live and die Free Church minister of
Dunross.

The existence, in sucTi a mere hamlet as Dunross, of a
Free Church and manso was due to an outburst of Disrup-
tion enthusiasm on the part of a lay supporter of the move-
ment who owned some land in the village. Not even that
sparsely populated district, he determined, should be with-
out its witness for the truth ; so he built both church and
manse at his own expense, besides contributing large sums
to the Sustentation Fund ; and had thus ensured at least
the one result, that one minister of the community had
marvellously little wherewith to occupy his time. i

Of these few sheep in the wilderness James Hepburn had
been the spiritual shepherd for twelve years ; and though
these years had not been wasted, he was very tired of his
seclusion. Not that he for a moment held that individual
souls increased in value in proportion as the number domi-
ciled in a given space increased ; but there was so terribly
little to do. Had every man, woman, and child of his flock
been seized simultaneously with mortal illness, he could have
paid personal visits almost daily to each sufferer without
overtaxing the powers of an active man. Yet here he

James Hepburn.

believed himself to be doomed to end his days, so it was
little wonder he often sighed at that particular point, from
whence he had a bird's eye view of nearly the whole limited
range of possible activity accorded to him.

James Hepburn's early life and training had been col-
oured by somewhat peculiar circumstances. He had grown
up in the shadow of a great disaster. His father, a success-
ful tradesman in a Scottish country town, had, when nearly
tifty years of age, wooed and won a bright, handsome young
wife, the daughter of a respectable farmer in the neighbour-
hood. He had been very frank in his admissions, telling
her his early life had been a very dissipated one, and that
almost in boyhood he had married a woman of abandoned
character, from whom he had soon separated, and who had
long been dead. With .11 the romance of youth, the girl
only rejoiced the more at the prospect of being able to
brighten a life thus early clouded by its own follies. They
were married, and for a while the young wife was ready to
throw down the gauntlet to any one who affirmed that per-
fect happiness was unattainable in this world. Her husband
was kindness itself, manifesting towards her what she
learned, in the light of subsequent events, to regard as a
sort of remorseful tenderness. About six months after the
birth of her son, the blow fell. The former wife was not
dead. She soon gave abundant evidence of being quite
alive, and very ready for mischief. There was a long, sad
interview between the wretched pair, the result of which,
to the unhappy young mother, was only the poor consola-
tion of ascertaining that she had not been deliberately
sacrificed by the man she had trusted. He had but regarded
everything through the distorting medium of habitual sel-
fishness. Good reason for believing his wife to be dead had
been easily moulded into proof sufficient to justify his

Javies lifipfmm.

marrying again without venturing on any inquiries, the
result of which he could not control. Chance of discovery
was too remote to be allowed to stand in the way of self-
gratification. Hhe saw the truth clearly, in spite of specious
excuses and much ingenious special pleading ; and perhaps
her cruellest pang lay in the consciousness that she must
heartily despise the man she had dearly loved.

She was, however, too self-controlled for extravagances.
She scornfully rejected, for herself, the settlement he wished
to make upon her ; but agreed that it would be right he
should maintain and educate the child, and see him when
he chose to do so. He spared no pains on the boy's behalf,
and when, about ten years later, he died, he provided hand-
somely for him by will.

In the colouring given to his mother's whole tone of senti-
ment by this cruel disaster had lain its most important
result for James Hepburn. Ii'rom his earliest infancy he
learned to regard unswerving honesty and truthfulness
and absolute unselfishness, as the noblest characteristics a
man could possess, and to regard with unbounded contempt
those social laws which attach a stigma where no stigma is
merited. This last sentiment naturally, as he grew older,
took in him the definite form of a distinct tinge of hostilit^y
towards " society," on his mother's account. He troubled
himself very little about his own relations thereto ; but that
his cruelly-wronged mother should be held to be to some
extent under a cloud, and that purse-proud dames, not
always too careful to keep on the right side of tht? narrow
line between levity and indecorum, should consider them-
selves entitled to treat her with a certain patronizing con-
descension of manner, chafed him sometimes almost beyond
endurance. Even now, when she had been dead for some
years, the memory of it all was very bitter to him.

James Hepburn.

James Hepburn, sighing as his monotonous Arcadia
loomed out upon him from the mist, was a tall, muscular,
but somewhat loosely-built man, of about thirty-S(>ven years
of age. His massive forehead, features a trifle rugged, and
thick bushy eye>brows, would have imparted some harsh-
ness to his expression, but for his kindly, honest grey eyes,
which invited trusting confidence, even while seeming to
pierce through and through the object on which they fixed
an attentive gaze. Too energetic for inaction, and aided
by his possession of private means, he had turned his soli-
tude to good account ; had accumulated, and made good use
of a valuable library, and was a deep student and accom-
plished linguist. Whether he was a strictly orthodox Free
Church minister, at least as the character defined itself in
the minds of the early promoters of the Disruption, is quite
another question. There were certainly books in his library,
and books which bore marks of much handling, that were
not redolent of Oalvinistic theology. Moreover, it had once
chanced that a profane outsider, who happened to be on a
visit at the nearest country house, had heard some remarks
made upon James Hepburn, which induced him, one fine
breezy autumn morning, to walk skcross the moors to Dun-
ross, in order to hear him preach ; and that ungodly person
i subsequently stoutly maintained that the sermon contained
quotations from the Koran. The faithful, however, proved
themselves^equal to the occasion, and brought the devices
of the wicked to nought, by retorting that everyone knew,
or ought to know, that tho Koran was largely drawn from
Scripture ; and that he who betrayed he only recognized
IHoly Writ in a Mohammedan garb, merely published his
[own shame.

The minister was on the present occasion aroused from
lis despondent mood by an incident — a very trifling one

James Hephv/m.

■|i

certainly in itselE, but suggestive of possible sequences.
Outside the manse door his house keeper was standing look-
ing in the direction from which he was approaching, and
the moment he appeared she beckoned to him to hasten his
steps. What could be the matter t His thoughts flew off,
somewhat ruefully, to one or two members of his congrega-
tion who were seriously ill, and lived a long way off ; for
the raw foggy evening did not render the prospect of another
long walk inviting. Hastily crossing the head of the glen,
and ascending the slight eminence on which the manse
stood, he reached the gate just as the woman came forward
and opened it.

" What's the matter now, Joan? he asked.

" There's twa gentlemen speerin' for ye, sir, an' desperate
anxious to see ye. They say they canna wait vera lang."

"Who are they?"

" I dinna ken them. They say they're frae Mossgiel ! "

" From Mossgeil ! You didn't show them into my study,
did you?" he added, a little hastily. Perhaps he only
thought that it was very untidy, with very few unencum-
bered chairs to sit upon , but he may also have remembered
that a volume of Spinoza, copiously annotated, was lying
open on the desk. *

. "Na, na, sir. Wad ye hae me to lippen strangers in
amang a' yer books and papers ? They're just in the other
room."

This brief colloquy had taken place outside the manse.
Within its tiny precincts every word would have been
audible to the two visitors, into whose presence a very few
steps soon brought the minister, and in whom he recognised
as he expected to do, two leading members of the Free
Church community in Mossgiel.

Mossgiel was a thriving town, of somewhat hybrid com-

James Hepburn.

position, situated about twenty miles distant frc m Dunross.
The previous year the Free Church minister there had ex-
changed duty with Mr. Hepburn, for the sake of lighter
work for a time, aftor a severe illness ; and the minister
had little doubt that some proposition of a like nature was
the cause of the present visit.

"Ye maun excuse our comin' to business at once, sir,"
said the elder of the two visitors, as he returned the minis-
ter's greeting. " We're pressed for time. I was sair feared
we wadna be able to wait until ye cam' in. Ye'll guess our
errand, I'm thinking ? "

"Another temporary change with Mr. Forsyth, I sup-
pose."

" Na, Na. That's no it. Have ye no heard the news 1 "

" I have heard nothing."

" Mr. Forsyth's gane for gude. His health didna improve
as it should do, sae he just gave up, and got some wark
abroad, to try if a milder climate widna suit him better ;
sae we've to find anither minister. We've come the day,
Mr. Hepburn, at the request of the committee, to invite you
to come forward as a candidate."

A slight flush passed across James Hepburn's face, but
he replied frankly, without a moment's hesitation —

" I am very sensible of the compliment the committee pay
me, and should only be too glad to make the exchange A
place with such a much larger amount of wo/k would be far
more to my liking."

" Then we are to settle with ye what Sabbath ye'll come
and preach " — and he produced a note-book. " There are
only twa Sabbaths engaged yet."

" Oh, but that is quite another question," said Mr. Hep-
bum. " Why should I preach ? "
"Why should ye not?"

■^W U- l.. i i <

ll ll

James Hepbv/m.

" Because it is barely a year since 1 preached for nine
consecutive Sundays. What more can the congregation
need?"

" They wad na like ye no to tak' yei* regular turn. Ye
see they were no listenin' to ye then wi' ouy thocht o' yer
bein* their regular minister."

" Then I must frankly tell you I will not take a regular
turn."

" What ! not preach as a candidate 1 "

"Certainly not. It is a thing I long since resolved I
would never do."

" But what is yer objection ? "

" The objection that I have to place myself in what I hold
to be a false, almost ridiculous position. Ask me to preach
before a selected body of competent judges, and I am quite
ready ; but exhibit myself in a pulpit, before a mixed con-
gregation, for every member of the same to have a fling at;
I will not. It is bad enough to know how often one may
owe one's election to dirty, underhand work ; but that is a
thing one has no power to prevent. If any congregation
chooses to make inquiries, and then to elect me — good ; if
not, I will stay where I am."

His hearer looked at his watch. With genuine Scottish i
relish he scented an impending semi-theological argument,
and rejoiced to perceive he had still a brief time in which to
discuss the monstrous position taken up by the minister.
But his hitherto silent companion, a retired lawyer, a less
important church member, but more cultivated man, sud-
denly struck in.

" If one may venture to ask, Mr. Hepburn, is it not rather
extraordinary that you, holding such opinions, should have
voluntarily became a minister of our Church ? "

" A very fair question, Mr. Laing. But when I took that

James Hepburn.

step I was some thirteen years younger than I am r ow, and
I greatly doubt whether I had many opinions on any sub-
ject. My determination is the result of subsequent obser-
vation and reflection."

" Perhaps of some not altogether pleasant reminiscences 1 "

" Not at all. I never did the thing. I came here almost
at a moment's notice, to take the place of the minister, who
had been severely injured in a carriage accident. The
result was for a long time uncertain, but ultimately he
died, and the congregation unanimously elected me his
successor."

" Weel, Mr. Hepburn," put in the first speaker, " I must
say your resolve seems to me a niaist extaordinar' one ; an
I canna vera well think how the committee will tak' it.'*

" My experience on such points would lead me to expect
the committee will indignantly refuse all consideration to
so heretical a candidate, Mr. Kutherford. I have always
believed my determination would bind me fast to Dunross
for life."

" Are we to consider that decision as quite irrevocable ? "
asked Mr. Laing.

" Quite. I fully appreciate the compliment paid to me
in the request that I would come forward as a. candidate ;
and if a majority choose to vote for me, I shall hail the
chance of a change with the greatest pleasure ; but preach
♦ on approval ' I will not." «

But Mr. Rutherford, with ten minutes to spare, was
not inclined to allow the question to be thus summarily
dismissed. Even if Mr. Hepburn were not to be moved
from his position, the question might still be argued out as
a hypothetical one.

" Ye've greatly amazed me, Mr. Hepburn," he said. " I
never heard of sic an objection bein' raised before on the

James Hepburn.

i;i:1

iiii'

part o* any Free Church minister. Why — how would ye
have a congregation choose a minister if he winna preach T "

" My good friend, your question, if you will excuse my
saying so, just nibbles at the edges of a very broad one.
Were I the entire governing body of the Free Church rolled
into one, I might find myself compelled to take the whole
question into consideration. But I think I am naturally of
rather a practical turn of mind ; so as I am only an insig
niticant unit in the Free Church community, I don't see the
use of wasting my time in considering a question my opin-
ion respecting which is of very little consequence to any
one save myself. The time when any lack of ministers
willing to preach on approval shall be a cause of embarrass-
ment to congregations, is a very long way oif. My idiosyn-
cracy, if you like to call it so, merely puts me out of the
running."

" That may be, sir ; but I wad greatly like to hear ye
defend yer position. It seems to me that ye strike at a
vital principle o* our Church."

"If you mean to argue out that point with Mr.
Hepburn," interposed Mr. Laing, "you must excuse me
from waiting to hear the discussion. It's a good five
miles walk to the railway station, and it only wants just
an hour and a half to the last train to-night. I am not
inclined to walk the twenty miles back to MossgieL"

" Nonsense ; you are not going to walk back to the sta-
tion," exclaimed Mr. Hepburn, starting up with the air of
a man glad to escape from the discussion. " My pony will
take you easily in forty minutes, and you must have some
refreshment before you start. I'll go and give directions."

Thus he staved off a discussion for which he had no in-
clination ; the duties of host being clearly incompatible
with defending a logical position. Mr. Rutherford was a

James Hepburn.

worthy and excellent tradesman, but not just the man
whose opinions on ecclesiastical questions would be calcu-
lated to throw new lights on vexed questions. The minister
drove his guests to the station himself, and as they wished
him good-bye, Mr. Rutherford said —

" Of course, sir, we'll put ye in nomination ; but I'm
bound to say I canna think ye've muckle chance. I doubt
the congregation '11 look on yer refusal to preach as a sort
o' a slight."

Mr. Laing, however, from behind his companion bestowed
a very meaning, but not very intelligible look upon the
minister, and, somewhat puzzled thereby, Mr. Hepburn
drove away.

Had he done well or ill ? He was not a man to set up
personal sentiments as principles to be defended conscien-
tiously at the risk of, or in ardent anticipation of mar-
tyrdom ; and any idea that his resolution on this point gave
him the faintest moral superiority over a man who thought
and acted differently would never have crossed his mind ;
while in the present case, the inducement to yield the point
was strong enough to cause him a moment's hesitation
whether he should write and retract his determination.
But no ! Stronger still was the feeling that in so doing he
should degrade himself to some extent in his own eyes by
voluntarily placing himself in what he held to be a humili-
ating position. Then, from a merely abstract, he passed to
a concrete consideration of the case. He thought of Mr.
Cruikshanks, a leading tradesman in Mossgiel, a wealthy
man, and important member of the Free Church ; a rigid
Calvinist, a stern Sabbatarian, a vehement opposer of
human hymns and new-fangled positions ; and withal, a
man well known to sail as near the wind in a trade transac-
tion, if his own interests required it, as was consistent with

JarrvM Hepbwm.

fell

his personal safety. He thought of Mrs. Haigg, the
austere widow, compared with whose tongue, as a firebrand,
Samson's foxes were a trifle. He thought of Miss Muir,
whose sentiments towards himself during his brief tenure
of office had been manifested in ways indicative of some
little mental confusion between the man and the minister.
Then he pictured to himself all these people, and a good
many others beside, sitting in judgment on his ministerial
qualifications, and he shook his head with a gesture of
angry impatience. Was there a man living, he speculated,
who could stand up to preach " on approval " in any con-
gregation save one in which all the members were totally
unknown to him personally ?

Steadily resolving to think no more of the bait which
had been thus temptingly dangled before his eyes, he ap-
plied himself again to hard study, and such active work as
his limited opportunities afibrded to him ; and had very
nearly succeeded in forgetting all about this temporary dis-
turbance of the placid currents of his life when he received
one morning a letter, the perusal of which caused him to
fall back in his chair and almost gasp for breath. He had
been elected on the previous day by a considerable majority
to fill the vacant place of Free Church minister in Mossgiol.

James Hepburn.

Chapter II.

SOCIETY IN M08SGIEL.

^r^HIS certainly somewhat unexpected result of the elec-
1 tion, had its causes been fully known to the zealous
orthodox party among the members of the Free Church in
Mossgiel, would have filled them with gloomy forebodings
regarding a minister who owed his election, however in-
nocently on his own part, to such tactics. The Machia-
vellian policy of a notorious son of Belial had been
mainly instrumental in securing the election of James
Hepburn. That son of Belial was none other than Mr.
Laing, a man who rested under the shameful stigma of
being a Moderate. He was known to hold many hotly-con-
tested points to be questions of expediency, rather than of
vital principle ; and was strongly suspected of heretical
leanings in the matter of organs and human hymns.
Mr. Cruickshanks was wont to shake his head ominously
when Mr. Laing came under discussion, and say that
" yon " was a dangerous man. Still, a clear head and legal
knowledge made him useful, so, on the score of these quali-
ties, he was tolerated in more prominent positions than
were the due of his religious status.

Over the question of a successor to Mr. Forsyth the
community had been divided into three parties. Two of
these parties were filled to overflowing with burning zeal
on behalf of their respective candidates, but so nearly
matched in strength as to be each more weighed down with
dread of the enemy than confident of succisss. The third

Jaraea Hepburn.

i1..t3

party was both cursed and coui'ted by both the other two
as dangerously lax, and horribly likely to vote with the
majority for the sake of peace. To this third party be-
longed Mr. Laing, and its desires were unquestionably
towards Mr. Hepburn, but without very much hope of see-
ing them gratified. Mr. Laing had chanced to be absent
from Mossgiel during nearly the whole time of Mr. Hep-
burn's temporary ministrations there, and until the date of
his visit to Dunross, in company with Mr. Rutherford, had
regarded the question of his candidature with languid
interest. That visit, however, had wrought a considerable
change in the ex-lawyer's sentiments, but he held himself
quietly in the background, and watched for his opportunity
— a policy going far to justify the opinion that he was a
dangerous man. After many excited discussions, and
many stormy meetings, the committee at length struggled
onward to the point of resolving that three candidates
should be recommended to the congregation, at the impend-
ing general meeting. Then came up the tremendous
question of the order in which they should be proposed,
and all former conflicts were dwarfed into nothing. Louder
and louder waxed the din of battle, fainter and fainter
grew the prospect of any possible settlement of the ques-
tion.. At length, when all, save a few violent partizans,
were at the point of despair, Mr. Laing, hitherto a sardoni-
cally silent spectator of the combat, seized a moment's lull
in the storm to interpose with a proposition.

" "What is the use of wrangling over a point upon which
we shall never agree ? Why not settle it as lists of names
are generally settled, when precedence is a difficulty ? Put
them forward alphabetically."

The zealous looked doubtful. There was a sort of d priori
probability that* a suggestion from Mr. Laing might have a

James Hepburn.

double edge ; but those who loved peace, and thobe who
were tired and hungry, cordially supported the proposition,
and after a short contest it was agreed to, and the assem-
bly dispersed.

" I say, Laing !" exclaimed a friend, joining him as he
walked towards home, " how could you make such a propo-
sal? It puts Frazer first — the worst, and certainly the
most strongly supported of the two objectionable candi-
dates."

" Precisely, anu Hepburn second, and Macintosh third.
Don't you see what will happen ?"

" That neither of the last two will have a chance, I
should say."

" On the contrary, we are pretty safe now to get Hepburn
in. Fraser will get a lot of votes ; quite enough to show
Macintosh's party they have no chance. Just out of spite
they'll join issue with us and vote for Hepburn, in order
to keep Fraser out. Two days since I wouldn't have risked
a sixpence on Hepburn's chance. Now I'd back him at
almost any odds."

Thus James Hepburn became Free Church minister in
Mossgiel, and in each defeated party the bitterness of per-
sonal disappointment was so charmingly tempered by the
soothing contemplation of that of opponents, that the
moral temperature cooled down with quite remarkable
rapidity.

" Come and dine and sleep at my house any night this
week you like," Mr. Laing had written to the new minister,
" and I will tell you all about it."

Mr. Hepburn cordially accepted the invitation, but he
promptly declined the proffered information.

" Not want to hear anything about it 1" exclaimed Mr.
Laing, in surprise. " Why, it was a screaming farce ? "

Januis Hepburn.

The minister's brow contracted a little. " If you suc-
ceeded in convincing me of that, Laing," he said, " you
would go far to make me send in my resignation."

" My dear fellow," remonstrated his host, " don't take
things so desperately serious. There is a comic side to
everything, and, upon my word, there is a side to the
election of a minister which would, I think, be almost
more than one could face, if one did not take off the strain
a little by laughing over the comic side. However, we
will be as serious as you like. Here is a list I have
made out for you of the votes."

" You'll think me most ungrm;Ious all round ; but if
you give me that, I shall throw it into the lire without
reading it. I don't want to know anything about the
election. If I had been elected by a very narrow ma-
jority, out of a large number of voters, I might have felt
obliged to make such investigations as would have been
necessary to satisfy me that the moral force of the decision
counterbalanced the numerical weakness. I would no
more be forced upon a congregation by a minute frac-
tion, than I would preach 'on approval.' Fortunately, in
my case, the majority is large enough to enable me to dis-
pense with any such disagreeable scrutiny. But I warn
you, as I shall warn everyone else, that I shall hold that
person an enemy, both to me and to the congregation, who
forces upon me any knowledge of what has passed upon
the subject."

"Meaning, of course, what has been in opposition to

you."

"Meaning everything. The man who tells me that A.,
B., and C. were my staunch friends, and made this and
that exertion on my behalf, and never mentions D., E., and
F., tolls me plainly, by negation, that they were no friends

Jarrua Hepburn.

of mine ; and the former will expect to stand on a differ-
ent footing with me.*'

" Naturally ; and why not ? "

" Because I acknowledge no 6bligation. On the con-
trary, if any single member of the congregation has allowed
personal Reeling to influence him, or her, to vote otherwise
than in accordance with an honest conviction of what was
best for the congregation, I hold that voter to have been
guilty of a great sin. As far as I am concerned, let the
dead bury their dead. I am bound to act as minister of
the whole congregation, not of any one section of it, and
as far as human effort on my part can compass it, our
starting-point in that relation shall be a blank sheet."

He had kindled into eagerness as he spoke. Mr. Laing
made no reply for a little space. He removed his cigar
from his lips, and sat gazing into the tire. At length he
said —

" Would you mind stating your opinion upon one point ?"
"What point?"

" Supposing Parliamentary candidates volunteered such
statements at the hustings, what would be the result?"

"As regards the candidates, I should say immediate
necessity for the intervention of strong bodies of police.
As regards Parliament, probably a blank sheet in the mat-
ter of constituent members. But if you mean to suggest a
parallel, you are wrong. There is none. In politics, ques-
tions of compromise and expediency have always rightly a
place on the part of both candidate and voters. It is far
otherwise where religion is in question. This makes the
difference one of kind, not of degree."

" Well, my good friend," replied the lawyer, rising and
throwing away the end of his cigar, " I will venture on
one prophecy. You may prove a powerful, an influential,
(2) .

JavtPH Jlephum.

H hiKHly respected minister ; but you will never be n popu-
lar one."

" God forbid ! " was the devout rejoinder, and they sepa-
rated for the night.

This town of Mossgiel, to which James Hepburn found
himself thus suddenly transferred from his moorland soli-
tude, and in which the Free Ohuroh held an influential
position, was, as has been said, somewhat hybrid in its
composition. It might have been a seaport, but for the
impracticable character of its coast. As it was, it turned
its back rather contemptuously on the sea as though it de-
pised its naval business, which was chiefly confined to a fair
amount of fishing and an untabulated quantity of smugg-
ling. It merely threw out a straggling fringe of its lowest
streets in the direction of the beach. The principal part
of the working population in the town consisted of colliers
and factory hands. There was a thriving colliery about
three miles distant from the town, and something near
al jut the same distance, in another direction, just where
the broad, shallow valley in which the town stood narrowed
suddenly into a deep glen, running far back among the
hills, stood a blanket factory, built at that particular spot
in order to gain the advantage of a stream of particularly
fine clear water, which flowed down the glen, joining below
it a river of some size which ran into the sea at a short
distance from the town.

The presence of these industries, united to the fact that
there were several considerable villages, but no other town
within a wide radius of Mossgiel, had made it, for its size,
a busy and important place, with quite a little "society "
of its own, and of course a burgh aristocracy, among whom
the trials and sorrows of this mortal life chiefly asserted
themselves in the shape of social rivalries and jealousies,^

'I ^■■

JaniM Hepburn.

and struggles for precedence. The agony point of this
latter difliculty had been reached in the case of the collieries
and factory. The former belonged to a both legal and
actual infant, the latter to a company, and both were
worked under the superintendence of resident managers.
What royal or imperial master of ceremonies could have
decided whether Mrs. Lorl^mer or Mrs. Watson was en-
titled to the host's arm in going to dinner ? Mrs. Lorkjimer
stoutly asserted her rights on the plea that coUeries were
not as other businesses— the word trade was of course nov(;r
mentioned. Did not the advertisement sheets of public
papers constantly proclaim that noble lords sold coals at so
much a ton 1 Who ever heard of a peer advertising his
blankets ? Mrs. Watson, on the other hand, as determin-
edly affirmed that coals, being supplied direct to the consu-
mers, the business was palpably a retail one, whereas the
factory was indisputably a wholesale business, therefore
clearly entitled to precedence. A satisfactory adjustment
of the rival claims had however been found impracticable,
and a tacit compromise had been effected, by an understand-
ing that the Lorrimers and Watsons were never invited
together to any sort of entertainment where distinctly
defined precedence must be accorded. They never met at
[dinner parties, save at each other's houses.

Mr. Laing was greatly in request at dinner parties in
[Mossgiel, as an unencumbered male, gifted with consider-
lable conversational powers ; and he chanced to be engaged
[for a rather large party at. the Lorrimer's the very day

ifter the new minister's visit to him. He prepared himself
for it, picturing to himself, with some malicious amusement,
the sentiments likely to be excited by the faithful report be
Intended to give of his interview of the previous evening.

The Lorrimers were not members of the Free Church. So

James Hepbu/m.

much the better — they would be more likely to ask ques-
tions. If they did not, some one else would. It was well
known that Mr. Hepburn had dined and slept the previous
night at Mr. Laing's house. It was not in the nature of
things — at least in Mossgiel — that such knowledge should
not evoke a craving for further information. Mr. Laing
was too astute to volunteer information which was well
worth seeking. The question came, almost as soon as the
servants had left the room.

Mrs. Watson, a devout worshipper of Mr. Forsyth, asked
Dr. Tweedie, the leading doctor in Mossgiel, whether he had
heard from him lately, and if he was deriving benefit from
chtjnge of scene. This question answered, Mr. Lorrimer
struck in —

" By the bye, Laing, you had your new minister with you
last night, I hear. What do you think of him ? If I re-
member rightly, you were away from home when he took
Forsyth's duties for him."

" I think," replied Mr. Laing, with much gravity, "that,
for a man who has never been in France, he has a wonder-
fully good accent. He made a quotation in French. I was
quite surprised." (Mr. Laing spoke French fluently.)

" Come, come, Laing," said his host, " that won't do. Ydu
are not an English bishop being interviewed about a new
appointment. What of the man as a minister ? Will he
be popular ? "

" I told him I did not think he would be, and his answer
was, 'God forbid?'"

" What ! " exclaimed Mrs. Lorrimer, " what did he mean ?"

" He didn't explain," replied Mr. Laing, gravely continu-
ing his occupation of peeling a pear for his partner. " I
imagine, though, it is a risk a man can very easily a\ oid if
he wishes to do so."

Jamea Hephutm.

id his answer

A murmur passed all round the table. Public attention
was thoroughly aroused.

" Well, I suppose we may assume," said Mrs. Haigg, who
had been an ardent supporter of Mr. Hepburn, " that that
sentiment has no reference to those who have used their
utmost efforts to secure his election."

" He doesn't know who they are."

" Is ot as yet, of course. But he will know in time."

" On the contrary, he is firmly determined not to know
He peremptorily declined all information. He said he
should hold the person who forced upon him any knowledge
on the subject an enemy to both him and the congregation."

" I never heard anything so extraordinary. How is he
to know who are his friends aiid who bis enemies ? "

" That also, he is resolved not to know. He disclaims
all sense of obligation — says the voter who acted under the
influence of any other feeling than conscientious conviction,
has been guilty of a great sin ; that he is minister of the
whole congregation, and will start fair with a blank sheet."

" By Jove ! " burst in Mr. Watson, with whom business
had not gone altogether smoothly that day, and who was
consequently irritable, " that's cool — the most convenient
way of shaking yourself free of your obligations I ever
heard of. I should think that notion would spread rapidly
among ministers. I shouldn't wonder to iu-a.\ next, he has
conscientious scruples about paying his i. ''s. 1 m precious
glad I didn't vote for him."

" At any rate," said Mr. Lorrimer, " one thing seems
pretty clear. You've got a minister with considerable
originality about him."

" A thing I hate," replied Mr. Watson — ** simply means
a man taking his own way about everything, without in the
least heeding anyone else's wishes or opinions, and then pre-

James Hepburn.

I!';

tending he didn't know they had any. To say a man's very
original seems to me only another way of saying he's mon-
strously disagreeable. "

" Oh, my dear," interposed his wife, a person constantly
spoken of by her admirers as a very superior woman, the
full force of whose character was, however, only to be appre-
ciated by those who had seen Mrs. Lorrimer walk before
her, " you are letting prejudice run away with you. People
can be disagreeable without being in the least original. As
we didn't vote for Mr. Hepburn his determination is so
much clear gain to us, and you know you liked his preaching
very much, when he was here last year."

" So did I," said Mrs. Lorrimer, " when I went one day
with Mrs. Tweedie to hear him. If you came to our church,
Mr. Watson, you would be more sensitive about the common
place, than the original. I fear we shall see a great many
empty seats ere long. Shall we go to the drawing-room,
and leave the gentlemen to dispute over the poor man ? "

Mrs. Lorrimer had suggested the move of deliberate pur-
pose. The Free Church was strongly represented in her
house that night, and personal feeling still ran high. In
the drawing-room she had recourse to a cruel expedient.
She was not an ill-natured woman, in the main, but what
could she' do ? She had a bevy of idle women on her hands,
for half an hour at least, many of them strongly at variance
on a burning question. Where could she hope to find
safety, save in the production of some more interesting
victim for sacritication? She tried for aome little time to keep
up a desultory chat on indifferent topics, but it would not do.
Conversation would veer round to the dangerous quarter, so
at last, in desperation, she laid her victim on the altar.

" I met Lady Ellinor Farquharson, as I was driving this
afternoon," she said

" she was on horseback. How well

James Hepburn.

she looks in a habit ! But she was riding such a wild look-
ing horse, I cannot think how General Farquharson can allow
her to ride such wild looking animals. It cai not be safe."

** Allow !" repeated Mrs. Haigg, scornfully, " as if he had
any voice in the matter ! If he could allow or disallow
anything, there are more important things for him to think
about than wild horses. If you met her, I suppose it was
not long before you stumbled upon Sir Maurice Adair."

" I did not see him anywhere," said Mrs. Lorrimer rather
coldly.

'* No, indeed," struck in Mrs. Jardine, the wife of a civil
engineer, ** nor could you have done so unless you had very
long sight, for he was twelve miles away. He was over at
the Pitcairn Collieries. My husband was there with him
all day. -There is some doubt whether they have not run a
shaft under Sir Maurice's land. My husband says it needs
very careful engineering to find out, and that if it is so the
penalty is very heavy. It will be quite a windfall for Sir
Maurice if it should prove to be the case."

" Or for Lady EUinor," suggested Mrs. Haigg.

" Hush, hush ! that is too bad," exclaimed Mrs. Lorri-
mer. " She may be giddy and imprudent, but that is going
too far."

" Have we a right to use even as strong terms as giddy
and imprudent ? " said Mrs. Tweedie. " Sir Maurice Adair
is quite as often to be seen with General Farquharson as
with Lady Ellinor. That fact should surely be sufficient
evidence."

" Oh ! " sneered Mrs. Haigg, " we don't of course expect
Mrs. Tweedie to see any fault in Lady Ellinor, being
honoured with her personal friendship."

" Lady Ellinor Farquharson belongs to quite a different
circle of society from mine, Mrs. Haigg. I should not

James Hepburn.

dream of calling her a friend. My father was in her grand-
father's service for many years, though I don't suppose she
knows that. Our acquaintance is quite accidental, and
certainly not of my seeking. I much regret that Lady
Ellinor is not a little more cautious ; so beautiful a woman,
married to a man old enough to be her father, has great
need of circumspection. But I know her to be a most
generous kind-hearted woman, and one who never says an
ill-natured word of any one."

" Wise enough not to throw stones," retorted Mrs. Haigg,
greatly nettled by this last thrust. But the remark was
lost in a query from Mrs. Wylie, the young wife of a local
lawyei, who set up for a beauty.

" Is General Farquharson so very much older ? I am not
sure we should think so if we saw Lady Ellinor before she
was made up in the morning."

" Her father and mother were married on the same day
that I was," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "just thirty years ago.
Lady Ellinor was the second child. She must be just about
twenty-seven years of age now."

" Oh, of course, we must give in then. Lady Ellinor is
ably defended. I wonder what our new minister will think,
Mrs. Haigg, to find a notoriously fast woman such a'
favourite with the ladies of his congregation ? "

" What's that about a fast woman and our minister ? "
asked Mr. Laing, who had entered unobserved during the
last speech. " Have you unearthed some scandal about
Hepburn already ? "

" Oh, dear, no."

" Then you are, of course, running down Lady Ellinor
Farquharson. But what has Hepburn to do with her 1 "

" Nothing., I should hope, for his own sake," said Mrs.
Haigg.

Jamnea Hepburn.

" Why should you say * for his sake ? ' " asked Mr. Laing.
" There isn't much that most men would not give for the
chance of winning a smile from Lady Ellinor Farquharson ."

" What ! a minister ? " almost screamed Mrs. Haigg.

" My dear madam, ministers are not a sracial breed.
They are much like other men, only I grant you they have
to try and look as if they weren't. I was lucky, or unlucky
enough, once to get a smile from Lady Ellinor. She
chanced to drop her riding whip just as I was passing, so I
picked it up for her. I don't believe I have ever slept
really soundly since. Why should Hepburn be different
He's only a deal younger than I am. What will you wager
me that he isn't over head and ears in love before he has
been here six months ? Upon my word, I do not wonder
you all hate Lady Ellinor. If I were a married woman I
don't think I should ever know a moment's peace, if I lived
within ten miles of Strathellon."

What storm this vile insinuation would have evoked it is
impossible to say. At the moment the door opened, and a
group of husbands entered, whose innocent minds it was at
least prudent not to contaminate. Mr. Laing, demurely
stroking his moustache, threw a glance of malicious satis-
faction round the room, and then went and sat down
beside Mrs. Tweedie, who was shaking with suppressed
laughter.

" You deserve a gold medal," she said.

" Perhaps. But all the same, I heartily wish there had
been no opportunity to deserve it."

"They must chatter. Peihaps it is as well they should
chatter about some one their chatter cannot reach."

"I did not mean that exactly. I was thinking about
Lady Ellinor. Do you think she's quite safe ? "

Mrs. Tweedie shook her head. " I hardly know about

Jamea Hepburn.

the safety, but certainly she is not very prudent. At
present I am sure there is nothing but a harmless flirtation,
on her part at least. But I hardly think that safe. Sir
Maurice is a fascinating man in his way."

"Which I suppose you mean to imply that General
Farquharson is not."

" Indeed, no. I hardly know him. My meeting with
Lady Ellinor was quite accidental, and she kept up the
acquaintance ; but I hardly ever see him. He does not
look quite the right sort of husband for such a bright fresh
lively young creature."

" He is a fine looking man, but he must be an immense
deal older than she is. I should think he would not be a
very lively companion ; a sort of incarnate Queen's Regu-
lations."

'• Yes, there is a ^reat deal of military formality about
him. That just makes the companionship of a man like
Sir Maurice Adair more dangerous. Change the subject,"
she added hastily, perceiving that Mrs. Haigg was bearing
down upon them.

Mrs. Lorrimer did not count that dinner party one of her
greatest social successes, and registered a vow that in future
she would mix her guesis a little more. It might be sweet ^
for brethren to dwell together in unity, but it was clearly
safer, at a dinner party, not to have too many who belonged
to the same religious community.

Ja/mes Hepburn.

bat General

Chapter III.

BLACK SHEEP IN MOSSOIEL.

IT might be safely affirmed that, being such r<.s he was,
society in Mossgiel was not very likely to find in James
Hepburn a tender and enlightened sympathiser in the social
perplexities and anxieties with which it was so sorely har-
assed. It is even to be feared that he would have regarded
the question of Mrs. Lorrimer's or Mrs. Watson's precedence
with the callous indifference of a coarse, uncultured society
instinct ; that he might even have been capable of the
brutal suggestion that the vexed question should be decided
by priority of age.

" When are you coming into residence ? " Mr. Laing asked
him one day, during one of his preliminary visits to the
town.

" As soon as I can possibly arrange to do so. It seems
to me there is a great deal of putting in order wanted at
the manse. It will be some time before I can get into it."

" Don't trouble your head about that," Mr. Laing replied.
" Come and make my house your home for as long as you
like, the longer the better. I shall be delighted to have
your society."

This suggestion was not wholly prompted by hospitable
motives. Mr. Laing had a touch of the sardonic in his
composition, and anticipated no small amusement from
watching the initiatory proceedings of the new minister.
Moreover, he was a man of more intellectual cultivation
than most of his fellow townsmen, and therefore hailed with

JaTTves Hepburn.

much satisfaction the prospect of some friendly intercourse
with an accomplished scholar.

Mr. Hepburn duly arrived at the house of his hospitable
entertainer, in the afternoon of the day preceding that fixed
for his induction, and Mr. Laing amused himself, in the
evening, with a vivid description of all the social agonies
and dilemmas to which the arrangements for his reception
had given rise.

" You see the person who should capture and exhibit you
would score a social triumph, a sort of certificate of title to
precedence. If the Lorrimers had belonged to us I believe
there would have been blood shed. Mrs. Watson had
arranged most charmingly for a great dinner party to-
morrow evening, at Vhich she hoped to secure the presence
of all the Presbytery. But it was pointed out to her that
she must ask Cruikshanks. He is pretty nearly the largest
contributor to our church funds; but he unmistakably
keeps a shop. She would never have been able to hold up
her head in Mrs. Lorrimer's presence again. But hulloa,
am I treading in the wrong place again ? " he broke off,
noticing the grave expression which had gathered upon his
visitor's face.

" Oh, dear no ! I don't set up for such a sensitive plant i
as that ; but I've lived much the life of a recluse for the
last twelve years, and have almost bad time to forget the
society aspect of life. Your words awoke some unpleasant
echoes, that was all. Social cruxes have, however, stood
me in good stead this time. I shouldn't like to have stood
out against the arrangement ; but the day of one's induc-
tion into such a charge as this is not just the occasion one
would choose for chattering small talk at a dinner party."

Then he relapsed into silence for a brief space and sat
gazing thoughtfully into the fire. At last he suddenly asked '

James Hepburn.

intercourse

" Who about here rides ? What lady I mean t "

Mr. Laing started. The remembrance of his random
shafts of malice in Mrs. Lorrimer's drawing-room flashed
across him. He eyed his visitor closely.

" Question for question," he replied. " Is that what you
have been pondering over for the last five minutes ? "

"I? Certainly not. I was prosaically meditating whether
a saddle horse would not ^be very useful to me sometimes.
I shouldn't care to ride the pony I have. He would hardly
be up to my weight unless he bad a much better shoulder
than he has. That was the connection of ideas which
brought to my remembrance that just as the train ran into
the station to day, I saw a lady at a little distance on what
appeared to be a very good horse. That was all."

" It must have been Lady Ellinor Farquharson. She is
the only lady about here who rides."

" Who is she? I don't remember to have heard the name."

" I daresay not. I don't think they had come to Strath-
ellon when you were here. She only married General Far-
quharson about two years since, and there was a great deal
to be done to the house. I don't think it was ready for
them till after you left."

"And so lately married ? General Farquharson cannot
be a very young man, surely ? "

" Twenty years older than she is, at least. She is not
only young, but exceedingly beautiful."

" Is she ? I must manage to see her. I don't believe I
ever saw a very beautiful woman in my life. How far off
is Strathellon ? "

" About four miles. But you need not walk so far as
that, in search of a chance of singeing your wings. Lady
Ellinor sometimes visits Mrs. Tweedie. She might find you
an opportunity, if you confided your wishes to her."

James Uephv/m.

M i

" Singe my wings," repeated the minister, with a some-
what puzzled intonation.

" Yes. Don't you think it might be possible 1 "

" Don't you think, considering our relative social posi-
tions, and individual circumstances, the idea savours a little
of the grotesque ? "

" Far from it. My experience, as far as it goes, would
rather suggest that it savoured a good deal of the probable."

Mr. Hepburn threw back his head with a short laugh.
" What a chance for the congregation ! The minister
drooping and pining away under a hopeless attachment to
the wife of General Farquharson ! Why, there would not
be standing room in the church. But is she then so danger-
ously beautiful ? "

" She 's wonderfully beautiful, or, perhap?, I should rather
say, there is a wonderful fascination about her beauty. I
cannot say with you, that 1 have never seen a beautiful
woman. In fact, in my time I have seen some of the most
celebrated beauties of their day. But I never saw anyone
whose beauty had the peculiar charm of Lady Ellinor Far-
quharson's. T don't know what it is. I have seen more
perfect features, and more faultless form, yet her peculiar
charm has been wanting."

" Well, if I perish, I perish, but clearly it will be on the
altar of no unworthy divinity. Reassure yourself, however,
I shall contemplate her only as I would some very beautiful
picture."

" You will intend to do so, I have no doubt. Unfortu-
nately, in this world our intentions do not always shape our
actions. But to return to mundane things, Lady Ellinor
Farquharson having suggested the mention of Mrs. Tweedie,
I heard from the latter that you want a housekeeper."

"Yes, I do."

M yy

Jamen Uepbwm.

•' I know the very person for you if you can come to
terniJi — an old client of mine, who still comes to me for
advice. She is the widow of a small tradesman, with just
fuough to live upon, and no encumbrances save an orphan
niece, a bonnie lassie of about eighteen years of age. The
good woman is in great trouble about her just now, and
came to consult me just after I had se^n Mrs. Tweedie.
The girl has made some stcquaintances hev aunt does not
like, among others with a certain uncommonly handsome
young ne'er-do-weel, belonging to a family of whom you'll
probably hear a good deal before you have been here very
long. He seems rather to have caught the girl's fancy, and
her aunt is very anxious to move farther away from his
neighbourhood. She came to consult me about trying to
let her cottage. Why should you not take her and the girl?
They'd be well out of the way at your manse, more so than
in any house of their own, and they would make you very
comfortable."

" It seems an excellent scheme."

" I'll send for her to come and see you, then. She is an
excellent cook, and a very clean, tidy, managing woman."

" Very good, and now, it being, as you may observe, to-
morrow morning, we had better retire."

That special induction at Mossgiel was universally felt to
be a tame, rather uninteresting one. James Hepburn lacked
the seductive charm of absolute novelty. His manner, his
voice, his preaching, were all to some extent familiar. Dark
suspicions, it is true, lurked in the minds of the more rigid
of his congregation as to whether he would prove to be
quite sound, whether his orthodoxy would stand the strain
of these specious arguments respecting the necessity of
moulding time-honoured customs into some measure of con-
formity with altered conditions, wherewith a clamour for

James Hepburn.

dangerous innovations is apt to be supported, but that was
a point which time alone could determine. There was no
prospect of detecting any unsuspected personal peculiarity,
which might impart a new and agreeable flavour to after-
noon tea table gossip. If only they had known of that
deadly accusation, about the Koran ! — and they only missed
knowing it by a hair's-breadth. It was from Sir Maurice
Adair's liouse the vile accuser had walked over to Dunross,
and Sir Maurice, chancing to be one afternoon in Moss-
giel, went into Mr. Cruikshanks' shop — the principal sta-
tioner's and bookseller's shop in the town, and the post
office to boot — to settle some postal business. Mr. Hep-
burn's name chancing to be mentioned. Sir Maurice was on
the pointTof twitting Mr. Cruikshanks with the election of
a minister who knew more about the Koran than about
Holy Scripture, when Dr. Tweedie's entrance checked his
purpose, and the fateful words remained unspoken.

Mr. Laing fulfilled his promise, and duly arranged for an
iiiterview between the minister and his widowed client,
burdened with the sore responsibility of a too attractive
niece ; that frolicsome Iamb who was to be guarded from
wolves by being kept under the very eye of the shepherd.
Mrs. Findlay did not ^^esitate to admit that that view of
the case mainly influenced her in her wish to make an
arrangement with Mr. Hepburn.

" But is she very giddy ?" he asked. "That would hardly
do for the manse, you know."

" Oh no, sir. She is no a glaikit lassie ; but she's young,
and Rob Blackwood's an unco gude lookin' chiel, an' fair
spoken, there's nae twa ways about that."

" What are these Blackwoods ? " asked the minister,
remembering Mr. Laing's words. " Do they belong to the
Free Church ? "

:l ;L

Jnnns Hrphnnt.

" As much as they l)eIon;? to ony church, Hir, and thafn
IK) hut Hay in' tliciu'H aye tiirea ainaiig the wheat. Ag to
what they are, that'8 mair than ony body can richly say.
Sandy Itlackwood'H been a sorto' foreman, some way, at the
l)hinket factory this mony a year, an' he's a clever man at
his wark, there's nae doubt, sae Mr. Watson lets him bide
on, though they've a heap o' wark wi' him whiles, when he
tak'K a drinkin' tit. But he get's nae mair than twenty-tive
shillings a week, an* ye may easily see, sir, that wi' rent to
pay out o't, it winna keep four great strappin' sons, forbye
a daughter, idlin' at hame, whiles takin' a turn at this, or a
turn at that, but never stoppin' onywhere, an" aye dressed
oot wi' the lx?8t, an' siller in their pockets forbye. It's
clean out o' reason, an' naebody kens w liar the money comes
f rae ; though folk do say Adam, the eldest son, has been in trou-
ble when he was awa in England about passin' flash money."
" And this Robert ? "

" I'll no say but Rob's the best o' the lot ; but he's idle,
an' I'll no hae him daunderin' after Mary if I can hinder it.
An' I'll awa to the manse the morn, sir, an' see f.o gettin' it
cleaned out the moment the men ai'e out o't."

" Tell me more about these Blackwoods," the minister
said to his host that evening. '' 1 suppose, from what you
said, you know something about them."

" I do. They are a rather uncommon family. The
father is monstrously clever, a man who should have got on
remarkably well, only he is so terribly given to drinking
not systematically, but by fits and starts. He is foreman
over some department at the factory, and Watson has said,
again and again, he did not think he could continue to put
up with him. But he is so uncommonly useful, when he is
sober, that the time of his tinal dismissal is perpetually de-
ferred until the next outbreak."
(3)

.^MIWPOTWWMWiW^

;^8

James l/ei)fHi/rn.

i i

a: Vik

11 t

" Has he a wife ? "

" She is dead. Poor thing, she had epileptic tits at
times. She was fond of bathing, and took one, one day, in
the water, and was drowned. At least that's the story.
But it is said the fits made her troublesome, and that had
our Fiscal been a little sharper that story might perhaps
have been exploded. But 1 don't know. She must have
been a very beautiful woman, and all her children take after
her in that. They are all remarkably good looking."

" And maintain themselves ? "

"Ah ! there's the rub. I see Mrs. Findlay has been en-
lightening you. Small wonder she objects. I fear they've
got hold of the fact that pretty Mary Warrender has a hun-
dred and fifty pounds to come tc her when, she comes of age.
I suspect General Farquharson's gamekeepers could supply
you with a good many hypotheses, but I don't think anyone
has much certainty about them. I heard a story the other
day. I'll make you a present of it, for what it is worth.
There has been a small grocer's shop opened, within the last
few months, in a quiet side street. Somehow a strong idea
has got abroad that our excellent elder, Cruikshanks, is at
the back of it. TTnquestionably, nionstrously good tea, to-
bacco, and spirits, are sold there at a very moderate price,
for ready money ; and the Black woods are constantly there."

" Did the mother drink ? '

" Oh, no ! She was a quiet, respectable woman."

" Intemperance and epilepsy — a terrible heritage."

" Hulloa, Hepburn, are you one of the modern theorists ?
My dear fellow, if you don't stick close to the good old
doctrine of original sin, and leave alone all new-fangled
heresis about responsibility in crime, you'll live to curse the
day you set foot in Mossgiel."

" There are two questions mixed up there. To talk about

James Hepburn.

I To talk about

original sin is one thing. To be quite sure we have exhaus-
tive knowledge of what original sin means is quite a different
thing. But I'm not going to run my head against a post.
I don't know enough about the subject myself ; but one cjan't
help seeing that certain indisputable scientific facts raise
difficult questions. As far as my present concern with the
matter goes, it will only make me watch those Blackwoods
with considerable interest."

The next few weeks Mr. Hepburn spent manfully, if not
altogether agreeably, in making himself generally acquainted
with his congregation, and in patiently receiving much ex-
cellent advice. Has any layman an idea of the copious and
varied amount of good counsel which is eagerly pressed up-
on ministers under these circumstances ? It was something
new to Mr. Hepburn, and being, by nature and training,
inclined to perhaps slightly excessive candour, he got into
trouble once or twice before he learned to listen and hold
his peace.

And all the time, if only the feminine sheep of his flock
could have known it, a most unrainisterial desire was cher-
ished in his bosom. None other than that he might chance
to meet Lady EUinor Farquharson. It had struck himself
as strange that he should have been able to say, at his age,
that he had never seen a very beautiful woman. He had
never thought much about the subject before, but now,
knowing a beautiful one was actually living so close at
hand, he was seized with a strong desire for a chance of
ending this abnormal state of things. To Mr. Laing's htilf-
jesting warnings he never gave a thought. He never
dreamed of speaking to Lady Ellinor It was curiosity
pure and simple. She was nothing more to him than a
beautiful picture, or a beautiful landscape would have been.

That any opportunity should ever be afforded him of

James Hepburn.

11 ii

perishing a victim to the charms of Lady Ellinor Farquhar-
son, unless his nature was of a wonderfully inflammable
kind, certainly did not seem very probable. Beyond the
precincts of Mv)ssgiel the constitution of society was of a
wholly different character. Its component parts were pre-
sumably far less heavily weighted with a sense of their own
importance, but they were few ; for the properties were
large, and some of them valueless, as far as society was con-
cerned. There were the Munros, an old Eoman Catholic
family, holding themselves somewhat aloof from their heritic
neighbours, and depending for society chiefly on periodical
visits from other famil'*'ii of their own persuasion. An-
other large property ha<l lately passed to an English family,
the Chamberlaynes, who as yet had rarely come t^ it save
for a few weeks during the shooting season. Then Sir
Maurice Adair was unmarried, and somewhat of a wander-
er. Strathellon. the largest property in the neighbourhood,
was the nearest to Mossgiel, and upon it therefore mainly
centred the watchful interest of that sprightly town, a fact
which under existing circumstances was, as might be gath-
ered from the tenor of conversation at Mrs. Lorrimer's dinner
party, not just the most desirable one possible for the in-
terests of its beautiful young mistress.

General Farquharson had not been many years in posses-
sion of Strathellon. He had succeeded to the property un-
expectedly, on the death of a miserly cousin, and had found
himself suddenly transformed from an officer of high ability
anu repute, into an exceedingly wealthy landed proprietor.
He had thus become a prize in the matrimonial market,
and was held a great catch for the eldest of four daughtei-s
of a not very wealthy peer. He did not altogether relish
the changed conditions of his life ; but he was an upright,
honourable man, with whom — if not quite th'j incarnation

James Hepham.

of the Queen's Regulations, which Mr. Laing had declared
him to be — duty was, both by nature and habit, omnipo-
tent. As he had been a first-rate soldier, so he would at
least strive to be a first-rate landed proprietor, and an un-
impeachable husband. That he was exactly a suitable one
for a beautiful high-spirited woman of twenty-five years of
age — the age at which Lady Ellinor Forbes became his
wife — might be doubtful. It had never occurred to him, up
I to the time of his marriage, that he had a heart. Whether
ihe had then discovered it was best known to himself. He
was very certain to treat his young wife with affectionate
and chivalrous courtesy, and to surround her with every
[luxury ; and only pe.'haps fairly chargeable with looking at
jthe subject from a wrong point of view, in holding that it

*^ould be an insula to Lady Ellinor to exercise any sort of

(Watchfulness over her actions.

James Hepburn.

Chapter IV.

..* «>

-1

'i
I

' ^

^' if

ST RATHELLON.

ONE of the farthest outlying members of James Hep-
burr's congregation was a respectable farmer, who
lived soiiiie six miles distant from Mossgiel. He had long
been slowly wasting under the progress of an incurable
internal complaint, and had been a source of much mental
perplexity to poor Mr. Forsyth. In his capacity of minister
he had regularly visited the sufferer, and endeavored to
impress upon him, after the most orthodox fashion, a sense
of sinfulness, of the need of pardon and sanctifying grace,
only to be met with the stereotyped reply, that he did not
see he was any worse than other people. He had been a
regular church-goer when his health all-9wed, had never
been a drunkard, a libertine, a swearer, or a gambler. He
had always paid his lawful debts, and never done any harm.
This position Mr. Forsyth had found impregnable, and the
fact had caused him much mental distress. He was so
certain that he had faithfully delivered a true Gospel
message that this continued hardness of heart suggested
very painful subjects for reflection, and the case had
weighed upon him so heavily that he had made special
notes for the guidance of his successor.

Over these notes James Hepburn had smiled a little
sardonically, and he had carefully avoided all reference to
distinctly religious topics during his earlier visits to the
invalid. But one day he chanced to make an impression
when, sad to say, he was conscious of being somewhat out

i ''

Ja)U('» Ilfphttrt).

nes Hep-
ner, who
had long
incurable
[jh mental
i minister
avored to i
>n, a sense
ring grace,
le did not
ad been a
had never
ibler. He
any harm,
e, and the
ie was so
•ue Gospel
suggested
case had
%de special

ed a little
eference to
isits to the
impression
newhat out

of temper, and was rather inclined to tax himself with
iiaving spoken inadvisedly with his tongue.

His equanimity had been sorely tried during the earlier
part of the day. A collier had met with a very severe
accident, and the minister, hastening to the house, had
found everything in about as pitiable a condition as could
well V>e imagined — a poverty-stricken abode ; the man
seriously injured ; his wife expecting almost daily an
addition to a tribe of ill-fed, ill clothed children ; and dis-
order, dirt and confusion reigning paramount. What could
a man do? He hurried to Mrs. Watson's house. She could
be both kind and energetic when she chose. She would be
of far more use than he could possibly be.

Mrs. Watjion was at home, but in no state of mind to
give more than a fraction of her attention to his story. All
her faculties were concentrated on a great social disaster.
She had rashly accepted an invitation to dine the previous
evening at the hou"3 of an acquaintance who was a trifle
outside society in Mossgiel. Mrs. Lorrimer had been there,
and had been accorded precedence. Mr. Hepburn had to
listen, with what patience he might, to a circumstantial
account of her wrongs before he could even induce her to
hear his urgent appeal and strenuous assertions of the
instant need for action. When at last he did succeed in
faintly arousing her interest, he still left the house very
doubtful whether, if some visitor should call whose sym-
pathies she could evoke on her own account, she would not
forget all abou^ the matter.

This little society episode left him in a state of exaspera-
tion, a mental condition in which his somewhat blunt
candour was apt to overrun the boundt of discretion ; and
on this day, of all days, during an afternoon visit to
Braehead Farm, the conversation took, for the first time, a

4.4

JarrtcH Hepburn.

1 B<

decidedly religious one. The invalid, doubtless expecting
the usual delivery of the Gospel message, instantly hoisted
his generally successful defences ; *ind the morality and
respectability fleas were set up.

" True enough," repl'>d Mr. Hepburn, " I daresay. But
you might have sinned a good deal in all these respects
without your life being necessarily so utterly at variance
with the very fundamental principles of Christianity, as
the career of respectable selfishness on which you pride
yourself."

" What ! " exclaimed the hearer. " Do you mean to say
it doesn't matter whether a man is a drunkard and profli-
gate or not ? "

" Certainly I don't mean to say anything of the kind.
What I do mean to say is, that a man who leads the hard,
cold, selfish sort of life you credit yourself with is such a
long way off Christianity altogether that one can hardly see
how 'the moral law applies to him at all. His respectability
keeps him out of the hands of the police, and is therefore so
much clear gain to the ratepayer ; that is about all."

The invalid was silent for a few moments. " Well,
thav o an odd way to put things," he said at last. " Mr.
Forsyth made it out quite different."

" Very likely. Ministers are very apt to get so saturated
with theology that they can't get at any other aspect of a
question. I've known ministers who would give a theo-
logical turn to a di^ussion on the best shape for a plough-
share. You can think over the matter till I come again ; I
must go now."

James Hepburn drove away from the farm somewhat
startled at the evident impression his words had produced.
He was very conscious that they were little more than an
outburst of suppressed irritation. The line of argument

James Hcphnrn.

was certainly very wide of any he had intended to take.
He turned hi» pony's head homewards, so absor^ied in
meditation on the subject that he was hardly conscious of
the figure of a woman, wearing a dark, close-titting ulster,
and walking slowly along the road before him, until ho
overtook her, and was sharply aroused from his absorption
by the perception that she had turned towards him, and was
speaking. He hastily pulled up, and glanced down at her,
then, with a quick flush, raised his hat. He had no need
to speculate as to who the speaker might be ; and never
again would he say he had never seen a beautiful woman.
The lovely face, turned towards him with a perplexed,
disturbed look, could belong to no one save Lady Ellinor
Farquharson.

" HavQ you seen a carriage anywhere on the road ? " she
askel, "a poijy carriage, with a pair of mouse coloured
ponies."

" I have only come a few hundred yards along the road,'*
he replied. '* I came down from Braehead Farm.''

"I cannot think what can have happened," she said,
turning her head to look along the road. " I am Lady
Ellinor Farquharson. I went to see an old servant, and
sent the carriage on with a message. It was to come back
for me. I thought [ would walk a little way and let it
overtake me ; but it should have returned long since. I am
afraid there must have been some accident."

" I will drive back at once and try to find out."

"Thank ^ou very much. But, wait a moment, here
comes a boy running ; perhaps he is bringing some message."

She stood w&tching the approaching lad, and he sat
watching her, his unpractised judgment cordially endorsing
the dictum of Mr. Laing's more mature experience. There
was a wonderful fascination about her beauty.

JanieH ftpf)httrn.

I 1

*!• i

The messenger shortly came up, panting grievously,
" Ye're ao to wait for yer carriage, mem," he gasped. *' It
c?,nna win to ye. Jamie Henderson's Jan ker brak doon just
coinin' oot o' Graigend wood ; an' there's an awfu' big lump
o' a tree clean ower the road. They'll no get it awa' this
lang while."

♦' Then Jamie Henderson's a stupid dunce," said Lady
EUinor.

" May be ; but that'll no clear the road."

A flash of amusement, like a sudden gleam of light,
passed over the beautiful face. She laughed a low musical
laugh.

" You young Socrates ! there's a shilling to buy a new
pair of lungs. I'm sure you have ruined yours." Then she
turned again to the minister.

" Thank you very much for your kind offer, but you see
it is needless for me to trouble you. I must just make the
best of it, and walk home."

" Is there no other way by which your carriage can reach
you ? "

" Not without going too far to make it of any use."

" But you are a long way from Strathellon."

She gave a little shrug. '* Over five miles. It will be
quite dark by the time I get home. All the keepers will be
out with guns and lanterns. It cannot be helped ! "

He sprang out of his dogcart, and was by her side in a
moment. " Probably Lady EUinor Farquharson you do
not know who I am. My name is Hepburn. I am the
Free Church minister. I have not been long in Mossgiel.
Will you condescend to make use of my humble dogcart,
and let me drive you t'> ' rd,thellon '? "

" There will be no co .escension, Mr. Hepburn, but a
great deal of good fortune in such a lucky encounter. I

<\ i»;

James Hepham,

confess I have no great inclination for the walk. I thank
you very much indeed for your kind offer."

Then he received that smile of which Mr. Laing hbd
spoken, and in truth, thoug^h it did not threaten him witi'
total loss of sleep, it did make his heart beat a little
quicker. He helped her into the dogcart, and took his
place beside her. Strange turn of fortune's wheel ! The
utmost limit of his wildest dream had been of an occa-
sional chance of a glance as she pa&^sed him, either driving
or on horseback ; and this was the result of their first
meeting. A hitherto unknown sensation began to steal
over him. When he told Mr. Laing to reassure himself, he
had not added what was, however, in his thoughts at the
moment; that Lady Ellinor Farquharson must always be
to him,, too much an embodiment of society, for him to
escape feeling a certain vague hostility towards her. Now
that sentiment had vanished. With that lovely face close
to his shoulder, the man conquered the aggrieved citizen,
and a strange feeling of shyness came stealing over him.
He could not think of any remark wherewith to begin a
conversation. Lady Ellinor, however, speedily released him
from his embarrassment.

" This is a very informal way of making acquaintance,
Mr. Hepburn," she said, " but 1 am very pleased to have
the chance. I have often heard of you since you came to
Mossgiel. My maid belongs to the Free Church, and you
have an ardent worshipper in her. I believe I shall rise
enormously in her estimation when she hears that I have
actually been driving in your dogcart."

" A rather lowly, and, I fear, the reverse of luxurious
honour," he said.

" It is a vory comfo:*table one, which is more than can
always be said for what is luxurious. When I was a girl

Jiimea Ht'ithnm.

i I

at home, I ami my next sister ha<l a delightful little old
rattletrap of our own, in which we used to drive about. It
was not half so respectable as your dogcart. We very
nearly quarrelled when I was married, as to which should
have it ; but General Far(]uharson settled the dispute by
saying he would not let me use it ; that everyone would
think he was too stingy to give me a decent carriage, so I
had to submit to paint and varnish, and immaculate har-
ness, and try to look as if I was not rather ashamed of
myself."

*• Ashamed of yourself," he repeated.

'• Yes. Why not ? Why should I, who am young and
strong, and could walk miles without being tired, go driv-
ing luxuriously about the country, while numbers who are
sickly, or old and feeble, have to toil along on foot ?''

" Are you a communist ? " he asked, with a smile.

" Not that I know of. I don't think I'm anything in
particular, save a woman much overpampered with luxuries,
and who would doubtless raise a dismal outcry were any
one of them wanting. Still, I confess, sometimes when I
am whirled past some poor feeble-looking creature, who is
toiling painfully along the road, I do feel a sort of sense of
shame, and all the glitter and show seems like an ostenta-
tious vaunting of my superior advantages. I did not feel
it half so much in my little old carriage."

Mr. Hepburn did not immediately reply. The fair patri-
cian had planted a thrust. He had often given a lift to a
toiling pedestrian, but her view of the subject had never
occurred to him. Was it possible that she, the spoiled child
of rank and fortune, had really a keener sympathy with the
toiling, burdened multitude than he had himself — he the
man of the people ? Was she attitudinizing ? That any-
one should possess a larger share of any virtue than we feel

Jantes I/vphurn.

conscious of posscKsing ourselves is apt to seem to us in-
herently improbable, mid the ({uestion presented itMtlf to
his mind with sutHcient distinctness to make her next re-
mark a little startling,

" I daresay you think T am po iiig as an angel of light,
in order to give a minister a good opinion of me. But I
am not. The sentiment doesn't lead to any practical result,
so I suppose it only merits to l)e called sentimentality."

" I wonder if your sentiment, or sentimentality, would
Imve led to any practical result, if you had seen what 1 saw
this morning ?"

♦' What was that ? "

He briefly but graphically described the scene, watching
her face as he did so. There was no mistaking the effect.
Her face flushed and her dilated eyes filled with tears. She
gulped down something like a sob as she exclaimed —

" Oh, Mr. Hepburn, how dreadful ! Could we not go
there at once? If we left word at the lodge, in case the
carriage should return."

He thought of Mrs. Watson, and smiled a little grimly.

" No," he said ; " there is no such instant nee I as that.
They will do for to-night. Perhaps you could send them
something to-morrow.

" Send something," she repeated scornfully. " Yes, as I
should send some delicacy to the kennels if a favourite dog
was ill. I will go directly after breakfast to-morrow, and get
Mrs. Tweedie to go with me, and see what we can do. We
must get the children taVen charge of for a time. I can
easy manage that, and Mrs. Tweedie must find a trustworthy
nurse to look after her. W^e shall be able to make things
better for them, I am sure."

James Hepburn began to feel his notions regarding so-
ciety become a little confused. To get a sovereign offered

Jiniu'H Hf'/thurn.

t i

1 !t 1 1

to him to expoiul for tho sufferers hnd I)eeii about the ut-
tnoKt he expected, t^ady Klliiior FHr<{uhar8on appeared to
have an eniiiieiitly practical uiind.

Home further desultory conversation over the case filled
up the time till they reached the entrance to Htrathellon.
Then, as they passed through the gates, Lady Ellinor said —

*• You must stay and dine with us, Mr. Hepburn, and let
General Farquharson thank you for your timely rescue of
his forlorn spouse."

*' Oh, thank you, you are very kind ; but T must beg you
to excuse me."

*• Why ? I know you are thinking about your boots.
Men always do. But you need not mind. We are quite alone."

" I was not thinking about my boots,'' he bluntly replied.

" What, then ?"

" I don't belong to your social circle. Lady Ellinor. I
should be out of place at your table. I don't understand
your Shibboleths. I should be perpetually violating some
law of the Medes and Persians, and you would be saying to
yourself — 'What a boor! Why, he is only fit to dine in
the servants' hall.' I don't understand your ways."

He saw her colour change and her eye flash, and there
was a touch of cold hauteur in her voice as she replied —

"You are right. You do not understand our ways.
When men of learning, high personal character, and ability,
accept invitations to our houses, where we have nothing to
offer save those luxuries which are a mere question of
money, we feel that they do us honour. T am sorry you do
not feel inclined to grant that honour to General Farqu-
harson and myself."

She had the best of it, and he knew it. He knew that
he deserved the rebuke for having allowed a rjomentary
suspicion that he was to be paid off for his services by an

.t '-^

Jii luCH Jliphni'V.

invitfition to diiinor, to hntray him into iimkinK n very un*
courteouK 8|>ef'ch. He turned frankly to her.

'* Forgive nie, Ij^idy Eliinor, I have a litthj touch of the
niiHaiitlirope about me. My nature haa )>een a little warped
l)y circumstances. My rude 8[>eech was inexcusable. 1
can only ask you to forgive it. I will do just what you
like about dining with you."

She smiled brightly on him. '* I would like you to dine
with us very much. (Jeneral Far(|uharson is a very well-
informed man, and I am afraid, sometimes, I am a very
poor companion for him. It will be a great pleasure to him
to have your society for an evening."

" What will he think if he sees your approach ?" he said,
a turn of the road bringing them at the moment in full
view of the house. " I fear he will be much alarmed "

"About his ponies — yes," and there was uncjuestionable
bitterness in the tone. Then, with a catch of her breath,
she hastily added, " He will see at once there is nothing
amiss with me."

The minister caught the intonation, and made a mental
note. Some floating straws of Mossgiel gossip had drifted
in his direction. When they reached the entrance, General
Farquharson, a fine military-looking man, of middle age,
was standing on the steps, his face wearing an expression
of unmistakable anxiety.

" My dearest Eliinor," he exclaimed, apparently quite
unconscious of Mr. Hepburn's existence, "has there been
an accident? You are not hurt, my love 1 "

The quick flush came again, and her eyes filled with tears.
But behind the General was standing a portly butler, and
in the farther background a gradation of subordinates in
livery, all their faces set to a regulation expression of
alarmed anxiety, and she answered lightly —

James Heplnirn.

' \ '

\ :

It .
i 1 !

; i.

" I am not valuable enough to come to grief, Stuart.
Some timber broke down and blocked the road while the
carriage was gone on with your note; so it could not get
back. I should have had to walk, only fortunately I fell in
with Mr. H<!pburn, who kindly brought me home. He has
promised to stay and dine with us,"

'• I am very pleased to hear it. 1 aui greatly indebted to
you, Mr. Hepburn. Lady EUinor's prolonged absence
would have oaused me much alarm, especially as she has not
had the ponies she was driving very long. Eilinor you look
5jold ; go and take off your wraps, and we will join you
presently, when tea is ready, in the drawing room."

He led the way to the library as he spoke " Yes, indeed,
Mr Hepburn," he continued, after they had entered the
room, " you have laid me under a very deep obligation. 1
am not pei 'ectly satisfied about those ponies ; but Lady
Elliuor took an immense fancy to them, and I did not like
to cross her. Had she been as late in reaching home as she
must have been, but for your interposition, I should have
been exceedingly alarmed lest want of due caution on my
part had endangered her safety."

What did it all mean ? There was a slight trace of mili-
tary precision and stiffness in General Farquharson's man-
ner, but nothing could be clearer than that he in no way
merited his wife's bitter insinuation about the ponies. His
anxiety for her safety was unmistakeable. That faintly
perceptible jarring of domestic harmony roused anxious
thoughts in the minister's mind; and had he remeu. bored
Mr. Laing's warnings, he might have been fain to admit
their possible foundation. He already felt that he would
gladly lay down his life to avert sorrow or disaster from
that beautiful creation which had just vanished from his
sight, slowly ascending the broad staircase of Strathellon.

James Hepburn.

When about half-an-hour afterwards Lady Ellinor Far-
quharson descended to the drawing-room, she found tea
waiting, and her guest the solitary occupant of the room.

" All alone, Mr. Hepburn ? " she said, " How is that ?
Where is General Farquharson ? "

" Someone wanted to speak to him, so I came here with
the tea. I don't mean, you know, that I carried in the tray."

" Heavens ! I hope not."

" Why not ?" he asked, seized by a sudden whim to parade
social inferiority, and see how she would take it. " One of
ray grandfathers was a butler in his younger days."

" Very likely. But unless you can prove that, like point-
ing among dogs, carrying trays is an inherited instinct, I
don't see what that has to do with it. But I was only
thinking indirectly of you, I was panic-stricken at the
thought of my pet tea cups being placed in such imminent
danger, to say nothing of the chance of my finding an im-
promptu bread and butter pudding on the hall floor, to trail
my skirts over in passing. I am quite certain you would
have upset the whole thing."

She was clearly not to be caught at a disadvantage ; but
before he had time to answer, the door opened, and a tall,
fair, handsome man entered unannounced.

" Sir Maurice Adair !" she exclaimed. " Why, I thought
you were to dine and sleep at the Chamberlaynes'."

" And I am come to dine and sleep here ; that is all the
difference — having, I believe, offered up at your shrine the
dearest offering man can make — the wind of my favourite
liorse."

" When you have sufficiently recovered your manners to
greet Mr. Hepburn with proper respect, you had better try,
and make yourself intelligible. Do you know Sir Maurice
Adair, Mr. Hepburn?"
(4)

Jdnifs Hepburn.

The minister thought a passing expression of surprise
crossed the young man's face ; but he greeted him with per-
fect courtesy.

" Now explain what you mean," said Lady Elliuor.

" I reached that wretched tree, and found your carriage
on the other side. Stevens was nearly beside himself, de-
claring you would have to walk all the way home. I found
it woulc^ be still some little time before the road would be
clear, so I turned, and drove as though dear life hung upon
the pace. I arrived just about ten minutes after you did.

" I believe you are an imposter. Where have you been
all the time since 'i "

" At the stables. T left ni" man at home. I knew the
Chamberlaynes were terribly overcrowded ; so I drove
straight up to the stables. I have beon looking at the
horses.''

Then General Farquharson came in, and James Hepburn
closely watched the meeting of the two men. The name of
Sir Maurice Adair had not been wanting among those
straws of scandal apon which he had chanced, and he felt
more in his own element in watching the proceedings of
men than when those of women were in question. The
manner of both was certainly frank, cordial, and without
any symptom of restraint ; and Sir Maurice was so out-
spoken in his declaration that profound devotion to Lady
EUinor had prompted his action, that the n>inister said to
himself —

♦*They may be playing with fire, but there is no singeing
as yet."

He did observe that Sir Maurice rose to leave the dining-
room after (inner very soon after Lady Ellinor had left the
room. But then General Farquharson only smiled, and said :

" Off, as usual, to bear Lady Ellinor company?"

James Heplnim.

" I should think so," answered the young man. " You
don't suppose I am going to sit here and drink wine when
I can sit in the drawing-room and talk to her."

" Get your confidences over soon, for we shall not be long
after you. We'll talk very loud as we cross the hall, so that
you may have warning to change the subject."

" Thank you. I'll listen."

It all seemed harmless enough, but Mr. Hepbu -n's ears
were sharp ; and later in the evening, while he and General
Farquharson were playing a game of chess, he heard Sir
Maurice say in a low tone —

" Too bad, I lost my chance to-day."

" Ccime to the ground, in fact, between two stools."

" Not the least. There was^io attraction at Dancscourt."

" Well, .better luck next time."

" Oh, yes, and when will that be ? As if that was any
consolation, either. Much consolation it would be if one
had lost one's dinner, and was very hungry, to be promised
one should dine at the next Lord Mayor's dinner. I know
someone I should uncommonly like to horsewhip."

" Hush ! "

" Checkmr^ite," said General Farquharson, " you were aot
attending to your game, Mr. Hepburn. That last move
was a terrible mistake."

*' I ought to apologize. My thoughts had wandered for a
moment ; and I think it is growing late. May I have my
dogcart brought round ] "

Then after a few words to Lady Ellinor about her pro-
mised visit on the morrow, he took his leave, fain to admit
that luxury, wholly devoid of the ostentation with which, in
his experience, it had been too often associated, and linked
•vith quiet refinement, and perfect harmony of all surround-
ings, had something very attractive in it.

James Hepburn.

P^l

CHikrTER V.

MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY.

AS Mr. Hepburn passed out of the grounds of Strathellon,
the boy who had come out to open the lodge gate called
after him —

" The back of the cairt's doun, sir. Will J fasten it up?"
" No, thank you," he replied, looking back, " the catch
is loose, it would soon fall again. There is nothing in the
cart, so it does not matter."

The night was heavily clouded, but the moon being near
the full, and the weather dry, there was quite light enough
for Mr. Hepburn to see the white line of road stretching
along before him, even where — as was the case for some dis-
tance after he passed out of the lodge — the road ran through
a wood. His pony, moreover, was sure-footed, and clever
at night work, so his atteni/xon was sufficiently unoccupied
to let him devote his thoughts to any subject which he
chose. They turned naturally, and with some anxiety, to
Lady Ellinor Farquharson. Both she and Sir Maurice
Adair were playing with fire , there could be no doubt about
that. For how long would they continue to do so without
baleful results *? A certain biting definiteness seemed to be
given to various hints and innuendoes which he had heard
in Mossgiel, by what he had observed that evening. His
reflections on the subject were not, however, of long dura-
tion. They were abruptly cut short by his pony throwing
up his head with a violent start, and making a sudden
spring forward, a most unusual freak in that demure animal.
At the same moment a total shifting of the balance of the

James Hepburn.

cart, warned Mr. Hepburn of some heavy accession of weight
behind. He glanced over his shoulder, then dro])ped his
reins, and faced completely round. A man had sprung on
to the back of the cart, was grasping the rail with his left
hand, to steady himself, while in the other, he held a pistol,
which was aimed at the minister's head. The rauzzle was
not many inches distant from his face as he turned.

The sudden spring of the pony probably saved his mast-
er's life. It threw the miscreant off his balance for a mo-
ment, and ere he could recover it his chance was gone,
Whether it be creditable, or the reverse, to a minister, to be
qualified to deliver, straight from the shoulder, a blow which
would not disgrace a prize-fighter, and whether, possessing
the ability, any circumstances can justify its use, far be it
from me to determine. Canons of clerical behaviour have
not been formulated with a view to the special circumstance
of having a loaded pistol levelled at your head. Be that as
it may, James Hepburn did possess the ability, and he forth-
with promptly and effectually made use of it. He planted
a blow between his assailant's eyes, which would have felled
an ox ; and c<! he hastily turned to catch up his reins again
he heard the heavy thud with which the man dropped upon
the road, and the report of the pistol as he fell.

The startled pony had broken into a gallop, and it was
some few minutes ere Mr. Hepburn could recover control of
him sufficiently to pull him up. Then he paused to consider
what must be his next step. The hour was late, and the
road little frequented at night ; still it was quite possible
some heavy vehicle might at any moment come along it. It
was impossible to leave even a would-be murderer lying in-
sensible, under the circumstances, in the very middle of the
way ; to say nothing of the chance he might have received
himself the pistol bullet he had intended for the minister.

James Hepburn.

I..'

But then, on the other hand, the man might have accomplices,
whom the report of the pistol would bring to the spot, in
which case to return would be a risk, almost a certainty, of
being murdered, without the least benefit to anyone. The
minister sat listening intently for a few moments, but not
the faintest sound broke the stillness. At last he got out of
his dogcart, and taking hold of the pony's head, cautiously
walked back along the road until, as he expected, he found
his assailant, lying exactly in the centre of it, with the pistol
on the ground close to him.

Mr. Hepburn bent down and looked closely in the man's
face. Then he started back with a slight exclamation of
surprise. The features, not yet wholly up recognisable, were
those of Robert Blackwood, pretty Mary Warrender's ques-
tionable suitor.

What could be the meaning of this strange occurrence ?
The man was no common footpad, likely to be lying in wait
for any suitable prey, and there was not a shadow of ill-
feeling between him and the minister. Their intercourse
had been of the very slightest possible kind. Mr. Hepburn
did not remember to have even seen him more than twice or
three times, for a few moments, and barely half-a-dozen
ordinarily civil remarks had ever passed between them. A
strong suspicion began to shape itself in his mind, and after
fastening the pony to a convenient tree, and possessing him-
self of the pistol, which had another barrel loaded, he took
the still unconscious man by the shoulders, and dragging
him to the side of the road, propped him up against a bank.
In a few moments he began to recover himself, and opening
his eyes, stared about in a half dazed manner.

" Blackwood," said the minister, sharply, " what does all
this mean ? "

*' What does all what mean ? Who are you ? "

James Hephnvn.

"I don't think you need to ask that question. Its. no
use your fencing."

Blackwood raised himself a little, and stared up at the
speaker, with an uninistakeabiy puzzled look. " Mr. Hep-
bum," he said at last, " how the devil did you come here ? "

There was genuine amazement in the tone. " As I
thought," said the minister to himself, " a case of mistaken
identity. I wonder whose life I have saved to-night ? "

" I came here in my dogcart," he said aloud, " and was
near going away in a different fashion. Blackwood, whose
blood were you minded to stain your soul with to-night 1 "

" Not yours, at any rate. It was all o cursed mistake. I

never dreamed Minister, ye mistook your callin' Ye

were meant for a prize-tighter. My word, but ye can hit,
and, Qod be thankit, ye did too, and in gude time. I
wadna hae yer bluid on my hands for something. Gie us a
haun up, an' I'll mak' for hame. Eh, man, but ye've dirLd
my heid for me. I doubt I'll no be able to see much
longer."

"Nonsense, man," replied the minister, "you can't go
home. Why, you can scarce stand steady. Your eyes will
be closed up fast, long before you get home. A pistol barrel
within an inch of a man's face doesn't incline him to hit
softly, I can tell you. Get into my cart."

" Na, na, I'll nae trouble ye, I'll manage to win hame
some gait."

" You'll do nothing of the sort," replied Mr. Hepburn,
quietly but firmly. " You've tried to commit murder to-
night, remember. You must stand the consequences. Your
pistol is in my pocket, and 1 have marked you pretty well
for identification. If you do not do exactly what I order
you to do, I shall drive straight to the police station and
give notice what has happened."

J<t in en Hcph u rn.

!i ''\':i

'} 6

" I'll no say but ye'vo got it in your mind to tak' me
straight there the noo," replied the man.

" I have saved you to-night, involuntarily, from the guilt
of murder, Blackwood. Thank God, for your sake, I have
saved both myself and some one else. Do you think I
would frustrate all the good I hope may come to you from
this, by handing you over to all the indelible disgrace and
ruinous associations ot penal servitude 1 No, my brother.
To seek, and, if it may be, to save that which is lost, is my
office ; not to bring upon men the regulated revenge called
justice."

" Weel, ye're a gey different sort o' minister frae ony I
ever ken't. But ye nmun hae yer will. I doubt I'll no bo
able to see ava in a wee bit."

Mr. Hepburn aided him into the dogcart, and took his
place beside him. Then as they drove rapidly towards the
town, he said —

" Your face may chance to bring questions upon us,
Blackwood. We must both tell the same story, and without
any apparent hesitation. 1 knocked you down as I was
driving along the road, just where the shadow of the wood
is deep. You admit the fault was entirely your own, and
that clears me. Refuse to give any particulars on account
of the darkness of the night."

" A.' richt, sir. But ye maun get some one to tak* me
hame frae the manse, unless ye wad be at the trouble o'
driving me hame. I'd no' be able to find the way."

" You're not going home to-night. You'll stay at the
manse."

" Oh no, sir."

" Yes, you will. You're my prisoner, remember. I want
the whole thing kept quiet if I can manage it. I don't want
to have to go about telling half truths, which are not much

I U:

James Hcphiwri.

tak' me

he guilt
>, I have

think I
^ou from
race and

brother.
►at, is my
ige called

rae ony I
I'll no bo

\
I took his
wards the

upon us,

id without

as I was

the wood

own, and

>n account

\o tak* me
trouble o'

bay at the

|r. I want
Idon't want
not much

better than lies, when they're meant to deceive. Youll
just stay quietly at the manse, and I'll go down to-morrow
and get your brother to come, after dusk, and walk home
with you. If that unlucky pistol shot does not betray us,
we may, in that way, keep the whole affair in the dark
altogether."

" I'll Ewear, truly eneuch, sir, I heard nae pistol shot,"
Blackwood said.

" And I could honestly say I heard it, but did not see it
fired. But I would far rather not be forced to say anything
about it."

They drove on in silence, until they reached the manse,
where, as the minister had hoped might be the case, all was
dark and silent. It was an understood thing that no one
waited fol' him, if he was late, and on this special occasion
he deemed the arrangement particularly satisfactory. He
was by no means certain that the discovery of his intention
to domicile her enemy within the very bounds of her haven
of refuge, might hot have roused Mrs. Findlay to wailing
and remonstrance audible enough to attract the notice of
some light sleeper, with one ear open for sounds of interest
floating upon the night air.

" Get down," he said to Blackwood, as soon as he was on
the pavement himself. " The pony will stand quietly
enough. I'll see you into the house before I take him into
the stable."

He guided his almost helpless companion's steps into the
house, then struck a light, and leading him into a sitting
room, placed him in an easy chair.

" Every one is in bed," he said, " so just sit quiet here.
I'll be back in a few moments."

When Mr. Hepburn returned, after delivering his pony
safely into his man's charge, Blackwood was sitting just as he

«2

JoinPH /If pit.! I'll.

:irr

lifli:

had l«'ft him, with Ims hejirl r«Hted on hiH liand. Mr. Hep-
burn took up the candUi, and closely inspected his faee.

" You'll he a <|ueer object for some days," he (juietly re-
marked ; *' but you have come off' better than I expected.
Fortunately for yon, you were too lightly balanced to get
the full force of the blow. It was no gentle one."

* You've nae need tae toll me that, sir. If I'd got it
fair, I doubt I'd hae I al a fractured skull. I've a sair heid
the noo, I can tell ye.''

" You must get to bed. Are you hungry ? "

" No, sir, I'm no hungry, but I'm awfu' thirsty."

" You had better have a little weak brandy and water.
While you drink it, I'll try and find some cooling lotion for
your face, and arrange some place for you to sleep."

As soon ..-s he had made his arrangements, he returned
to the s'tting room and led his unexpected guest upstairs.
After seeing him safely deposited on the bed, and well sup-
plied v»ith a cooling lotion, he said —

" I am going to lock you in, Blackwood. If you should
hear any one try the door, don't speak. It would frighten
Mrs. Findlay nearly into a fit if she chanced to come in and
find you here. She would not have the faintest idea who
you are. I'll come to you early. Good-night."

" Gude nicht, an' thank ye, sir ; ye're owre gude to me,
Mr. Hepburn. If I'd murdered ye on the road the nicht, it
wad hae gane sair wi' me to get ower it. But if I'd dune
it, kennin' what ye are, as I do the noo, I think I wad hae
blawn my ain brains oct."

"God be praised you were saved from the guilt of shed-
ding blood, Blackwood. But if you had killed me, and
the shock had won you from an evil life to a better one than
you had ever led, the result would have been worth the
cost."

Jnnn's fft'phfini.

" Eh, minister, I dotibt ye cnnnu honestly say that."

" 1 shouldn't stiy it nil if I couldn't. VVhtui you know
me a little better you'll know I'ni not given to saying things
because thoy are the right things for a niinisUu* to say."

" Ye' re no like ony minister I ever heard of. Ye'vo the
hardest Hst and the kindest heart o' ony man I v\vv kent."

" You've a good deal to learn yet before you've done with
being surprised. (rOod-night ugaitl ; " and with the.se words
Mr. Hepburn left the room.

He did not go to bed. He felt too restless and excited to
have any inclination for sleep, so seating himself by his
bedroom tire, he gave himself up to meditation over the
strange events of the day. The morning when he had hur-
ried from a hasty breakfast to visit the injured collier,
seemod very far away. Within the space of a few hours he
had been introduced to a hitherto wholly unknown social
circle, and had very narrowly escaped being murdered.
Certainly not a normal experience in any man's life. Ac-
cording to all precedent, James Hepburn ought to have been
mainly occupied in offering up devout thanksgiving for an
almost miraculous preservation from instant death, and in
all that minute self-examination whereby the seriously-in-
clined mind is supposed, under the circumstances, to improve
the occasion. But, in truth, he was in no way thus occu-
pied. Firstly, his thoughts were not in general prone to
take a subjective turn ; and, secondly, an attitude of devout
thankfulness for an escape from instant and painless en-
trance into that life beyond the grave, whose exceeding and
eternal weight of glory it was the special aim and object of
his calling to hold up before the gaze of burdened, groaning
humaniv.y, as the sure and abundant reward of him who
should endure to the end, would have struck him as a pain-
ful incongruity — a proof of a wide and fatal gulf yawning

James Hepburn.

I !

'if 1 :•!

between personal and professional sentiment. Most devout
thanksgiving was in his heart, if not actually on his lips,
but it was for the «juick eye and powerful arm which had
saved an erring soul that night from blood-guiltiness, in
more than intent, and given him, he hoped, a chance to in-
fluence it for good. His whole thoughts, as he sat, went
forth with anxious yearning towards the three human beings
with v/hom the day's events had brought him in contact,
who so sorely needed every aid which could be given to tide
them over the shoals and quicksands of this mortal life.

Sir Maurice Adair ha'.i not impressed him unfavourably
on the whole. He judged him to be by no means a mere
selfish, heartless, profligate, bent on gratifying any passing
fancy, regardless of any amount of ruin and suffering in-
flicted ; rather a man in whom a total absence of all moral
discipline had too thoroughly weakened moral force to allow
much hope of successful resistance of any strongly aroused
inclination. And what was the extent of his temptation ?
If he himself, the minister, habituated from early youth to
constant self-discipline, and by all the circumstances and
habits of his life in an immeasurably safer position, had felt
something of the extreme iascination of Lady Ellinor Far-
quharson's grace and beauty, what must be the peril to Sir
Maurice Adair? And Lady Ellinor herself? He could
hardly bear to picture to himself even the possibility that
she might be induced to sully her fair fame, to give up all
that could assure to iifir life lasting peace and happiness, for
the sake of a flame of fevered passion, which must inevitably
polish ere long, and leave behind it only a scorched, black-
ened waste, in which its fiery breath had dried up every
source of pure and abiding joy. And whatever might be
the state of feeling between her and her liusband, that mo-
mentary flash of bitterness had betrayed that there was

i •:

Jitiht'H Ifcphani.

something in their relationg not ho entirely RntiHftictory an
to preclude all chance of the devotion of Huch a man as Sir
Maurice Adair proving dangerous to hor.

His thoughts, however, of hoth Lady Ellinor and Sir
Maurice, though sad and anxious, were somewhat desultory
and purposeless. It seemed little likely that either would
ever come within the sphere of his personal intluence. His
prisoner guest was a much more immediate cause for per-
plexed meditation. The Blackwoods bore, and hf had seen
({uite enough to know that they merited it, a bad name ; but
he would never have expected to hear even the worst of
them, at least of the sons, charged with premeditated mur-
der. If there had been any shadow of truth in the dark
whispers about the unfortunate mother, her husband alone
was in fault. And Robert Blackwood was far from being
the worst — he was unquestionable the least objectionable of
the four brothers. It could not be some poaching quarrel
that was in question. He would not have so confidently
expected to find one of General Farquharson's gamekeepers
in a man driving a dog-cart along the road at that time of
night, that he would have sprung thus at him without a
moment's scrutiny. Some darker mystery must lie behind
the transaction. "Whosoever the object of Robert Bk'*k.
wood's intended vengeance might be, it was clearly some
one whom he expected to be driving, and to be the only
person driving along that road at that moment. Was it
possible to find any clue in that fact 1 The minister pon-
dered long over it, but he pondered in vain ; and at last,
after listening for a moment at the neighbouring door, and
satisfying himself by Blackwood's heavy regular breathing
that he had fallen asleep, Mr. Hepburn threw himself, dres-
sed as he was, on his bed, and slumbered in fitful snatches
until the morning. Then he had to face the indignant con-

Jaiiien Hepburn.

■I i ,

sternation of Mrs. Findlay, ^hen she heard who was in the
house.

" Eh, sirs ; but what did ye bring him here for 1 Siccan
a ne'er doweel as yon in a minister s hoose."

" If there were no ne'er-do-wells in the world, there
would be no need of ministers, Mrs. Findlay, so perhaps he
is not so ill-placed after all. However, I should not have
thought it fair to bring him here deliberately without warn-
ing you, because of Mary. But under the circumstances I
had no alternative, and he is not going to stay. I am going
down shortly to get his brother to come as soon as it is dark,
and walk home with him. I doubt Master Robert was
after no good, so he'll keep quiet enough about the whole
business."

" I'm sure I hope he will, sir," replied Mrs. Findlay,
whose ideas about the decorous respectability befitting a
minister's iiouse were not to be thus suddenly metamorpho-
sed. " There'll be an awfu' scandal in the place if this gets
wind."

" See that you don't let it out, then. And now take
Blackwood some breakfast."

After a hasty visit to his patient, and ascertaining that
his face was in a better condition than he had dared to hope,
Mr. Hepburn set out in search of the delinquent's brother.
He asked no questions in the house. He knew the Black-
woods well enough to know that no power on earth would
draw any information out of them, even had it been in their
power to give it.

He took his patient some soup about two o'clock, and told
him his brother would be there as soon as it was dark.

" Ye're awfu' gude to me, sir," the man replied. " I don't
deserve it o' ye."

" Will you make me a recompense then, Blackwood ? " he
asked.

Jii Dies HephuTn.

in the

Siccan

, there
iiaps he
5t have
t warn-
ances I
m going
is dark,
ert was
e whole

Findlay,
fitting a
imorpho-
this gets

"What is it, sir? If it's aught I can do, I'll be richt
glad."

" Will you tell nie frankly, as your friend and your min-
ister, whose life you were seeking, and wliy ?"

He shook his head. " I canna tell ye that, sir."

" Why not ? Are yoii afraid I shall denounce you 1 "

"Devil a bit. Ye're no ane o' that sort. But I ken
richt weel ye'd try to keep the man oot o' harm's way."

" And why should that matter ? "

" Because J mean to hae his blood yet."

"Blackwood! Are you so dead to all moral sense that
you caa still cling to your wicked purpose, when the very
hand of God himself has interposed to hold you back from
the guilt of shedding blood ? "

" I do haud to it, IVIr. Hepburn. I'll mak' no professions.
He has injured me, an' I'll no rest till I hae dune for him."

"And if a man has injured you, what can the worst
injury be to that you do yourself when you stain your soul
with the guilt of nmrder? Trust me, Blackwood, the pleas-
ure of gratified revenge does not last ten minutes after a
man has seen his victim fall. And then begins that life-
long agony of blood guiltiness, which has driven many and
many a man to confess and expiate his crime, rather than
drag on a miserable existence under the cuise of that awful
consciousness. Ijecause a man lias done you a wrong, will
you give him the chance of being the cause of that unutter-
able wretchedness to.you ? "

It was but a counterfeit virtue he was urging upon him,
and he knew it — rectitude for the sake of self. But what
then? Where would be the use of endeavouring to plant
amid the noxious growths flourishing in the evil soil of that
sin-darkened soul the pure seed of a lofty Christian mor-
ality ? The more robust plant of a sort of selfish rectitude

■ l

1 ! 'f

1 1'

' ■ : 'ill

1
(

i
i

•ail

James Hepburn.

might chance to tight its way into life, and in some measure
improve the soil, and fit it for the gradual development of
more fragile sensitive virtues.

His listener shook his head impatiently. " I'll no gie in
tae that, sir. If ye'd been the coward at heart that maist
men are, ye'd hae left me lying on the road, an' gane
straucht off, tremblin' and shakin', to the police Then
maybe they'd hae gien me seven years for merely haein' gien
ye a sair fricht oot o' a mistake. The law wad do that, but
it wadna aid me to strike at the man wha's dune me a war
injury by far ; sae I maun jist tak' the law into my ain
hands. Why wad I be mair troubled about it afterwards
than the hangman ? If a' ye say is tr ue, why wad he no be
miserable ? "

The minister made no reply. He began to pace thought-
fully up and down the room. A heritage of intemperance
and disease, resulting in totally warped moral instincts,
united with considerable mental shrewdness — that was, in
brief, his diagnosis. But the treatment ? He had studied
deeply. Few ministers had ever, he knew, devoted them-
selves more earnestly and unweariedly to the task of fitting
themselves for their holy duties ; yet here he found himself
at a loss the first time he was called upon to deal with a
somewhat unusual phase of moral perversion. It was a
humiliating perception ; but a more immediate perplexity
claimed his thoughts for the moment. How was he to act ?
Was he justified in turning loose upon* the world this mah,
admitting his immovable resolve to murder some one ?
Would not a certain weight of blood-guiltiness rest upon
his own head if some unsuspecting victim perished iTet
how could he in any way interpose, save by denouncing the
attempt upon himself ? That very perception brought him
a sense of relief. He had, quite irresponsibly, by merely

Jtunes Ilephiiyni.

•lotiii^ upon the dictates of tlie purest humanity, phiccd
himself in a position in which any action was impossihh\
To give up now to justice the man from whom, by persuad-
ing liim to trust himself in his hands, he had irrevocably
cut oft" all chance of escape, would be an act of treachery
from which every honourable mind must revolt. He
had no alternative but to bear the burden of this terrible
knowledge, strive his utmost to influence the man, and
endeavour to watch him to the best of his ability, in
the hope that some happy accident might give him the
knowledge necessary to enable him to frustrate the evil
purpose.

Blackwood, out of the one eye he could use a little, had
been watching him curiously " I doubt ye dinna kin what
to Pay to that, minister,' he said at last.

Mr. Hepburn came and sat down beside him. " You are
quite right there, Blackwood. I do not know what to say
to you. Your whole moral perceptions are so distorted that
I might as well expect a man who had something pressing
on his eyeball to see physical objects clearly, as expect
you to take a right view of any moral question. How
far you are responsible for that state of things God only
knows ; but I confess I dor.'t know where to begin with
you."

" Maybe ye may spare yeisol' the trouble o' beginnin
onywhere. It's only some, ye ken, that are elected to ever-
lasting life. 1 doubt I'll be ane o' them that wa^. left to
perish in the estate o' sin & i^ misery ; so it canna mak'
muckle odds what I do."

" If you think I shall argue that point with you, Black-
wood, you are quite mistaken. You are only giving fresh
proof of the perverted moral state I imputed to you. It is
useless to put sound moral arguments before a man who hag
(5)

; 1

Jt I m e.i* Hpph n rv .

I \l

}■

. 1

'.'M

iio power to grasp them. 1 candidly confess I don't know
how to deal with you. I can only say, if you ever do
succeed in murderinj; the man you hate, I shall feel
that I know at least one instance where it was a mistake
to strive to rescue a man from the consequences of his own
doings."

" There's ane question J wad fain ask ye aboot that, sir.
When ye were sae gleg to come back and pick me up, did
ye no think I might hae accomplices?"

'' F did think of it, and 1 listened for a moment. But
under any circumstances I could not leave you lying there
unconscious, wounded for aught I knew, to take the chance
of being run over, if any one came along the road."

Blackwood gave a perceptible start. " Had ye ony cause
to think ony one was oomin ? " he asked with evident in-
terest.

" None whatever. But it was of course (]uite possible,
What made you ask ? "

" Oh, naethin'. But I'm thinkin', sir, ye're better than
the gude Samaritan. The man he tended was only his
enemy in a general sort o' way. He hadna just tried to put
a bullet in his heid."

" And how comes it that you can admire the beauty of
his action, and yet hold to your purpose of taking a cruel
revenge yourself ? "

" There's nae parallel bet^/een the cases, sir. If I saw a
man that was an enemy o' mine, in a general sort o a way,
lyin' wounded on a road, I dinna think I'd be slow to gie
him a helpin' hand. To pui>ish a man that's dune me a
great wrong is a clean different sort o' a thing."

" You'll come to see in a different light some day, Black-
wood ; and God grant it may be ere it is too late. It will
be a cruel sting planted in my lif^ if I should come to know

;^ ^

James Heplmrn.

know
/er do
A\ feel
aistake
lis own

lat, sir.
up, did

t. But
ng there
e chance

\
ny cause

ident in-
possible,

tter than
only his
led to put

Ibeauty of
tg a cruel

tf I saw a
o a way,
low to gie
lune me a

ly, Black-
It will
|e to know

1 have only saved my life, and yours, in order to doom some
other man to a violent, and you to a shameful death, or the
murderer's brand for life."

With a heavy heart Jamv^s Hepburn wished his prisoner
good-bye when dusk came, and his musings were sad and
troubled that night. Had the churches really no message
for these lost sheep ? Was their message only for the pros-
perous, decent, well-living classes, whose transgressions
were mainly of a negptive order ? Blackwood had more
religious knowledge than he had supposed, but he gave little
heed to his adroit use of a theological position. That was
all mere fence, a reminiscence probably of some piece of
chance reading, brought forward in a spirit of mischief.
But where and how was an assault to be made upon the
impregnable position of a total perversion of all moral sense,
where self had a stake in the question ? The minister had
gathered experience in the course of his discussion. Small
wonder that the argument for rectitude for the sake of
self had failed of its effect. Rectitude, even generosity,
objectively, Blackwood seemed well enough able both to
understand ; but rectitude, subjectively, meant to him just
that course which selfish considerations, pure and simple,
dictated.

And why had he, the minister, felt himself thus power
less to grapple with the case ? Was it his misfortune, or
his fault 1 Or was he drifting helplessly in the direction of
a blank admission that the worst phases of moial evil must
be handed over to physical science for treatment ? Innu-
merable aspects of the question came crowding into hi?
thoughts, producing so much mental confusion, as they
jostled one another in hopeless confusion, that at last, by
dint of a vigorous effort of will, he threw aside the whole
subject for the time, and sought the rest v. "^ which the ex-

! 1

r I 'M

Janies Hepburn.

cit'enient of the last eight and forty hours had rendered him
sorely in net 'I.

Yet, for all his despondent musings and dispiriting sense
of failure, he had made, in that brief space of time, a
deeper impression on ts hardened nature than anything had
ever made upon it before. But not by anything he had
said in the wa^i of deliberate remonstrt-'nce. That went, in
Blackwood's reckoning, to the score of professional talk.
From the moment when the man's returning consciousness
was sufficiently clear to let him think connectedly, he had
pondered almost unceasingly over the minister's conduct ;
and when he put the question about returning to his aid,
more hung on the answer than Mr. Hepburn suspected.
The least particle of " professional talk " would have ruined
everything. A word about the soul of a sinful brother, or
about the duty of a Christian minister over-riding all other
considerations, and Blackwood wruld have set it all down
to the score of a good heavy sum to your credit in your
account with Heaven. But the honest straightforward
reply, the unconscious betrayal of self being so completely
in the background, that not even a perception of the possible
danger involved could weigh for a moment against the im-
pulse to insure the personal safety of a helpless, uncon-
scious, fellow-creature, anr' what fellow-creature one who,
but for a prompt display of manly courage, would have
been his rescuer's murderer, struck him with a sense of
amazement and admiring respect he had never felt for any
man before. " Ministers are aye fond o' preachin','' Black-
wood had been given to asserting ; " but when it comes to
practisin', I dinna see they're ony way vera difierent from
ither folk." That assertion would never be made again
without a mental reservation. James Hepburn thought too
little about himself for it ever to occur to him his action

James Uepbum.

had been heroic ; but he had manifested genuine ()luck, the
darling virtue of every true Briton. If he had found a
way to influence a hardened offender, it must be admitted
he had opened It up with the blow which, the recipient
hi..asel£ said, would have factured his skull had he received
its full force.

tTamcH fT^phurv.

Chaftek VI.

SERIOUS MlSdi VINOS.

nioi

\r ELLINOH FARQUHARSONVS pony . arriage
.. I \i Mrs. Tweedie's door by eleven o'clock, on the
^ Kil the day following Mr. Hepburn's strange ad-
venture. Mio Tweedie had been herself to visit the sufferer
the previous afternoon. Dr. Tweedie had of course heard
of the accident, and hia wife, not being so heavily weighted
with social responsibilities as Mrs. Watson, had found time
to go at once to the house, and see what could be done ; so
she was well prepared to give Lady Ellinor all necessary
information.

" I am sure it is very kind of you," she said, " to interest
yourself so much in them."

" Now, my dear Mrs. Tweedie, don't you start off on that
tack, and try and make me out an angel of impossible
goodness, because I am not palpably a monster of callous
heartlessness. The wife of one of our keepers has no chil-
dren of her own. She will take charge of the children for a
time. The sooner they can be moved the better. Could we
not go at once and see about it % "

" But my dear Lady Ellinor, it is such a low dirty place.
It really is not fit for you to go there. Let me settle it for
you."

" You go there ; why should not I go ?"

" Oh, because — because — well it is so different. Your
carriage could really hardly get down to the place."

" My carriage isn't going. It can go and wait at the
iiotel till it is wanted. You don't suppose I am going to

Jame» Hephuni,

flaunt in these poor I'leatures' very faces a luxury which
costs, I dare say, more than many a poor fellow has to
maintain a wife and children upon ? "

"Oh, we'll go directly, if you wish it," replied Mrs.
Tweedie, a little taken aback. " Only rememljer you must
not expect to find the comfortable quarters you have been
used to when you visit some of your own retainers. I'll go
and put on my bonnet at once." And she walked up stairs,
saying to herself as she went, " 1 only hope she won't turn
hysterical when she finds what the place 's really like."

The injured collier and his wife i .ec in a squalid,
poverty-stricken street, in the low par* a£ town, which

had nothing to redeem its dismal dirt^' is; ♦^ct save a view in
the distance of the open sea, with the jnshine sparkling
on the j'ippling waves, and the swee of the fresh sea breeze
up its close confines ; circumstances ^u^ticiently accounting
for the sturdy healthy appearance of the majority of the
ragged children swarming over the pavement. Mrs.
Tweedie very soon began to perceive that she need be under
no apprehensions respecting her companion's nerves. Lady
Ellinor threaded her way among the children and the dogs,
and all other obstructions, dead or living, with as much
calm unconcern as if she had been strolling about the well
kept grounds at Strathellon.

Neither in the presence of all the suffering and distress
which she had come to seek did her tact fail her. Mrs.
Tweedie, standing quietly in the back ground, ready to in-
tervene in the character of moral drag, should Lady Elli
nor's enthusiasm carry her beyond all bounds of reason,
watched the scene with no little interest. Even the injured
man smiled faintly as the beautiful face bent over him,
with a few gentle words of kindly sympathy and cheering
hopefulness ; and the poor palo harassed woman was very

Jauu'H Hejplmrn.

s. f

soon pouring forth her troubles to the spoilt child of for-
tune, with a freedom and evident confidence of sympathy
which seemed a little curious under the circumstances.
Lady Ellinor's proposition of taking away the children she
hailed with tearful gratitude.

'' Eh, mem, if ye wad do that, I wad be gratefu' to ye in-
deed. Mrs. Lorrimer was for me to gang to the infirmary
mysel'. But hoo could I gang an' leave Jamie the noo ? If I
canna rise mysel', I can see that ither folk see richtly to him."
" Of course you cannot go away. It was a very stupid
proposal. You will be much better and happier at home.
But the children must go at once. Don't you think you
could have them ready this afternoon 1 "

" Eh, mem, I hae nae the time to see their bit claes. It's
nae vera muckle the puir wee things hae, ony way."

" Oh, never mind the clothes. We can find something
for them. Don't you think," and she turned to Mrs.
Tweedie, " you could manage to arrange to get them sent
over this afternoon ? "

" I am sure we could. I'll go, presently, and speak to
Mr. Hepburn about it.*'

*' Oh, if ye ask Mr. Hepburn, he'll do onything. I never
see'd the like o' him. I think, when Jamie was brocht
hame, I wad hae gaen clean oot o' my mind, had it no been
for his comin' in. An' he wad hae come and stappit the
nicht had it no been for the way I am in, an* he said he wad
likely be mair in the road than ony use. I wunner he hasna
been in the morn. He was ower yonner, but he seemed in
a hurr}' like, an' he didna stap. I'm thinkin' there's some
trouble ower there, mem," she added, especially addressing
Mrs. Tweedie.
"Where?"
" Ower at the Blackwood's. Rob gaed oot last nicht, I

t u-

Jam^H Hi'plnn'v.

SAW him myser, just on to the darkenin', an' he's ne'or come
hame They dinna say muckle, they're aye j»ey close ye
ken ; but they're terrible put abw)t, oay^xxly can see that.
I doubt it wad \m} something alioot that that took Mr. Hep-
burn there. Likely Hob's l)een oot poachin', an' got into
trouble."

" Poaching," said Lady Ellinor. "Are they poachers?"

" Oh, no, mem, not to say regular poachers. But they're
people no weel likit, an' folk do say they lend a han' to
mony a doubtful business, whiles."

" If the man was out poaching last night, and has never
come home," said Lady Ellinor, turning to Mrs. Tweedie,
"some enquiry should be set on foot at once. I heard Gen-
eral Farquharson say this morning the keepers had heard a
shot in the night, somewhere not very far from the lodge.
He may have wounded himself accidentally, and not be able
to move."

f'Oh, not very likely, I should think," replied Mrs.
Tweedie, with a sort of instinctive wish Lady Ellinor had
kept that piece of information to herself. " The Blackwoods
are a roving race, and very well able to take care of them-
sylves. I don't doubt he'll come back safe enough."
• " If that unlucky pistol shot does not betray us," Mr.
Hepburn had said the previous evening. And, while he
was vainly seeking some means whereby to deal with the
problem of that utter moral perversion which confused all
Blackwood's perceptions of right or wrong, where his own
private feelings came strongly into play, through the appar-
ently wildly improbable mediumship of Lady Ellinor Far-
quharson, the news had been set afloat in the low parts of
Mossgiel that Blackwood's unexplained absence was coinci-
dent with an unaccountable shot, heard somewhere in the
neighbourhood of Strathellon.

Jo nil's ITi'jthurti.

■t

No fairly intellip^fnt huniHii Umiik, converRant with the
wayH of country towrm, will for a nioniont suppose thai thf
moro ariKtocrati«- i|uarter of MoHHgiol long n;iiiained ignor
ant of the fact that l^ady Kllinor Far(|uhar8on had driven
early to Mrs. Tweedie's house, and had walked with her to
visit the injured collier. The intelligence really gave poor
Mrs. Watson a severe Hh(M;k, when her nurse brought it
home, after tiie younger children's morning walk, and caused
her, as well, genuine vexation. In the anguish caused by
her social disaster, she had, as Mr. Hepburn had dimly fore-
boded, forgotten all about her promise, and she was really a
kind-hearted woman when the original soil was fairly struck
through the superincumbent rubbish.

" Why did you not remind me, Annie ? " she said, irri-
tably, to her eldest daughter, a lively young damsel of some
fifteen years of age, when the early dinner was in progress.
" You were in the room, and heard Mr. Hepburn tell me all
about it."

" I never thought anything more about it, mamma ; I
hadn't time, I had to dress for the dancing class, and I
don't know how many things to do besides. But how did
Lady Ellinor Farquharson hear about it, T wondei* ? "

" Oh, the Tweedies, of course. Mrs. Tweedie makes a
great phrase about never having sought Lady Ellinor's
acquaintance ; but T must say I think she takes care not to
lose an opportunity of cultivating it. The idea of taking a
giddy fashionable woman like her to such a place as that.
It is really too absurd !" Then, under pressure of her annoy-
ances, she could not resist the temptation to hurl a small
stone. " If Mrs. Tweedie had daughters," she added in an
undertone to the governess, who was sitting close to her,
" she might perhaps not be quite so eager to cultivate her
aristocratic acquaintance," And the governess compressed

Jamffi ffcphum.

th thi»
lat th*"
I ignor
driven
her to
vp poor
lUght it
1 caused
used by
nly fore
really a
ly struck

«id, irri-
l of some
progress,
all uie all

her lipM, and shook her heiul with an air of luuch signifi-
oancf*.

Somewhat late in th»i afternoon Mrs. Watson set oH' to
fiiltil her forgotten promise, really anxious to do what she
• ould, but still suH'ering a little mortification at feeling her-
self, and on this occasion by her own fault, thrust into the
second place. To have been first in the field where one of
the Lorriiner's own hands was in ({uestion, would have
seemed a trifling amend for her unmerited humiliation. It
would have been very pleasant to talk about it. ** One of
Mr. Lorrimer's colliers you know, a very sad case. We
have done all we possibly can for them, and I think we
shall tide them over the trouble." That was a lost oppor-
tunity, but still she was minded to do her best.

Naturally her first instinct was closely to question Mrs.
Thompson, the injured man's wife, respecting Lady Ellinor
Farquharson's visit. What had she said 1 What had she
done ] " Held* hei- pocket handkerchief to her nose and
gave you a sovereign, I suppose ? "

" Indeed, mem, she did naethin' o' the kind. She just
sat her doun and talkit like she inicht hae been ane o'
oorselves. There's nae pride aboot her. An' if she showed
her pocket napkin ava, it was because the tears cam' in her
beautiful eyes when I taiild her a' the trouble we'd had this

some time. An' a' the weans are to gang awa this vera

nicht, to ane o' the keeper's houses to stap for a while.

Lady Ellinor Farquharson's a guid frien' to a puir body,

whatever."

" Hut how did she hear any thing about you ? " asked

iVTrs. Watson, perceiving it prudeilt to tack. " I suppose

Mrs. Tweedie told her."

" Na, men, I dinna think it was Mrs. Tweorlie, though

she cam wi' her. I'm no vera sure, but I doubt it was Mr.

Hepburn tauld her."

i i

! ■ ■'

• i .

'^i:>

JaifWH Hepburn.

" Mr. Hepburn ! Impossible. He does not know Lady
EUinor Farquharson."

" Oh, but he does, mem. There was somethin' she said,
1 dinna just mind what it was at the moment, but I do mind
she said somethin', an' said Mr. Hepburn had tauld her."

Here was news with a vengeance ! The minister suffici-
ently well acquainted with Lady Ellinor to interest her in a
case of distress, and not a single member of his congrega-
tion aware that they had ever even met ! This looked very
like intentional concealment. Mrs. Watson had by no
means forgotten Mr. Laing's vile insinuations about the
spell of Lady EUinor's beauty. She did not like Mr. Laing.
She strongly suspected him of making jokes over her social
vampire, but as an unincumbered male, gifted with con-
siderable conversational powers, he was too useful to be dis-
pensed with. There seemed a sort of oblique thrust at him
in giving emphasis to a possibility of some sort of scandal
nourished out of his remarks. She was silently revolving
the matter, when Mrs. Thompson broke in with her great
piece of news, which had thriven healthily since the morning.

" Ye'll have heard about the Blackwoods, mem ? "

" No, I've heard nothing. What's wrong ? " It seemed
natural to conclude anything about the Blackwoods must be
something wrong. " I hope Blackwood hasn't broken out
again. Mr. Watson was saying, only the other day, how
steady he'd been for some time."

" Na, mem. I ken naught aboot Blackwood liimsel'. It's
Rob. There's somethin' gey wrang. He's nae been hame
syne yestreen, an' there's nae twa ways aboot it, they're gey
sair troubled. Maggie was oot every ten minutes frae the
break o' day, lookin' up an' doon the street till nigh on to
ten o'clock. Then Mr. Hepburn cam', and syne then they
seem quiet eneuch. But Rob's nae turned up, for a' thej

JaiiieH Hepburn.

tell ouy one what speers for hiiu, that th«<^y k<*n i\ uboot
him, an' he'll be haine the iiii^it. But I told M rs, Tweedie,
vAid Leddy Ellinor said the keepers hud heard a shot in the
middle o' the nicht ; an' ane o' the k«H'pers was ower there,
Just afore ye cam' doun the street. Folk a' think Rob's
gotten himself into some trouble, an' that Mr. Hepburn kens
something aboot it. But how wad Mr. Hepburn ken ony-
thing o' Hob's goin's on in the nicht, and shots in the
Strathellon woods ? "

" Ah. How indeed ] But very unaccountable things
happen sometimes," replied Mrs. Watson, with some em-
phasis. Then, after leaving some solid aid for the present
emergency, she took her departure. " This looks serious,
really very serious," she said to herself, as she walked up
the street again, with a sternly uncompromising sense of
moral rectitude rapidly increasing upon her, as it is always
apt to do when someone's defalcations in that respect, real
or imaginary, have involved some personal annoyance to
ourselves. What could be the meaning of all these strange
proceedings? Only so far back as the previous day, Mr.
Hepburn had claimed her good offices for the suffering
family, on the ground of their absolute destitution. And
here, before, as she put it herself, she had time to inter-
vene, he had brought Lady Ellinor Farquharson into the
field, ready, as it seemed, to undertake the mainttnmnce of
the whole family. It was really making a fool of her. But
that was not the most serious part of the business. Why
had he never mentioned Lady Ellinor ; never hinted at any
intention of appealing to her? And why had he kept so
very close the fact of his haring any acquaintance with her ?
And how should he come to be mixed up with Robert
Blackwood, and mysterious midnight shots in Strathellon
woods. Mrs. Watson really felt herself to be on the very

James Hepburn.

brink of mental contemplation of such appalling possibilities
that she had not courage to follow the train of thought any
further. She only resolved that she would at once institutue
searching inquiries as to whether any one, prior to that day,
had lieen aware that Mr. Hepburn had made acquainti^nce
with Lady Ellinor Farquharson.

Her resolution to follow her train of portentous speculation
no further was here ended liy an unexpected incident. The
evening had quite closed in, and she was hastening home-
ward, walking so fast, that, at a corner, she very nearly ran
against two men, who were about to turn down the street
from which she emerged. One she recognised at once as
Tom Blackwood, an elder brother o*' the missing Robert,
But the other ; he was a good deal muffled up, and his hat
was drawn down over his face, but it was surely Robert
himself. She turned and looked after him. Yes. There
was iio doubt it wasi he. She knew tlieni all well, and had
not a doubt of his identity. The missing black sheep was
actually found then, so it really did seem probable that Mr.
Hepburn had had some knowledge of his whereabouts. She
forthwith determined to call at the Blackwoods the noxt
day. She was in the habit of visiting occasionally among
the factory hands, regarding it as a religious duty, and pro
bably not admitting to herself that it was one rendered cer
tainly not less agreeable by the deference naturally shewn
towards the manager's wife. She administered reproof,
exhortation, and commendation, with extreme impartiality,
just according as action presented itself in the light of her
own prejudices, euphemistically styled her judgment and
experience, and was not universally popular. Rumour even
said that hei approach, if perceived in time, was sometimes
a signal for locking of doors, and silent waiting in retired
corners, until she was safely afar ; the recording angel hav-

Jotnes Hephti.rv.

ing much subsequent work provided for him in noting down
mendacious expressions of regret at such unfortunate
absences from home.

She set forth on her self-imposed mission the next morn-
ing as soon as her household duties were discharged. The
something " gey queer " at the Blackwoods ; the connection
between that something and Mr. Hepburn ; his mysterious
acquaintance with Lady Ellinor Farquharson ; and the per-
sonal slight put upon herself, were all floating about in her
mind, as facts sufficiently vaguely formulated to allow of
their being run separately or collectively into any mould
which accident might shape out in her mind for their recep-
tion. She felt ((uite satisfied respecting her duty in the
matter. 'As wife of one of the leading Free Church elders,
and of the manager of the facoory, it was clearly binding
upon her thoroughly to investigate suspicious occurrences
connected with the minister of the church and a foreman of
the factory.

The house occupied by the Blackwoods was in all respects
so superior to the low class tenements which surrounded it,
as to suggest that the family lived in such a neighbourhood
from some other cause than necessity, Maggie Blackwood,
a girl of about twenty years of age, handsome like all her
brothers, but wearing an habitual expression of half-sullen
haughty reserve, received the manager's wife with cold
civility. Mrs. Watson was not, however, a person to be
thus daunted. Without any circumlocution she dashed into
her subject, concealing, however, with what she considered
great astuteness, the fact of her being aware that the culprit
had come to light.

" What's all this I hear about Rob, Maggie ?"

"I wad say ye'er mair lik^^'v to ken that yersel', mem,
than I am. '

Juuu'H Itcphwni.

" Now, Ma>^gio, ilon't Weiiiipt! titioiit."

" I'm iio wishiii' to bti iiiiporti leiit, ineiu. ilut hoo wu«l
I poHsibly koii wliit ye liav<' Iwiin, T'

" Why, of course, I've lieard what evcny one knows, that
liob went out the night het'oi'e last and has never come
home."

" Everyone kens mair than 1 ken, then. Rob's in the
hoose the noo."

•' Oh, lie has come back then ? But he w«« away all the
night. He wasn't home till late in the afternoon. '

*• An' what then ? " retorted the girl with a sort of sullen
flre in her eyes. '* Is it ony sin for a man to be awa frae
hame for twenty-four liours 1 I wonner vhat vtvd say yersel',
Mrs. Watson, if some one cam' speerin' an' pryin' because
Mr. Watson had been awa for a nicht, just as if it was a
crime."

" I should order any such person out i the house," re-
plied Mrs. Watson with more candour tifun caution ; ''but
this is quite - different case. You wet-e expecting Rob
home, and there wn; a;:, unexplained shot in the Strathellon
woods, ^^'^hat wys Mr. Tepburn down hri'e so early about ?
and what was Gene rai Farquharson's keeper doing here 1
It all looks very suspicious, and you know very well,
Maggie, your brothers are by no means above suspicion.
Mr. Watsoji cannot allow this sort of thing among the fac-
tory liands ; we must have some sort of explanation."

" Rob's no a factory hand," answered the girl, angrily.
But before she had time to add anything more, or Mrs.
Watson to put forth an inverted theological dogma about
the sins of children being visitable upon their parents, the
door of an inner room, which had been only partially closed
durin.f! the discussion was opened, and Robert Blackwood
himself, recognisable nov/ as far as featuiN^s went, but of

wu«l

that
foine

II the

11 th#^

sullen
a frae
^ersel',
•ecause
was a

je," re-

g Rob

spicion.
bhe fac-

JampH Hephurn.

many-tinted complexion, stood before Mrs. Watson. He
had heard the whole colloquy, and was shrewd enough to
perceive that his wisest course, under the circumstances, was
to assume perfect indifference about the whole matter. He
was also astute enough, however, to leave the enemy to
make the first move, and stx)od silent, looking at the visitor
with a certain grim amusement.

" Bless me, Robert Blackwood!" she exclaimed, a little
taken aback at his appearance and manner, " is that you ? "

" Ay, mem, it's just me. You seemea so desperate inter,
ested about me, I thocht maybe it wad relieve yer anxiety
to see for yersel' that I'm here a' safe. I'm no a very bonnie
sight, I doubt, but ye'll maybe look over that."

" But what has happened ? "

" I just chanced to get in Mr. Hepburn's way when ho
was drivin' in the dark, an' got knocked ower. Tt was not
his fault ava, but he was sair pit aboot, an' wad hae me to
gang hame wi' him an' stap the nicht at the manse. My
face was a gay sicht war yesterday than it is the noo, sae I'd
nae mind to walk through the streets, an' I just stappit vi
the manse till the darkenin'."

" Mr. Hepburn knocked you down ! B' how did that
happen ? "

" Weel, mem, I doubt ye'll ne'er hae let alane on a .'oad
in a dark nicht, or ye'd ken it's easier dun han ye'd tliiink.''

" What time was it ? "

" I don't mind what time exactly. li vas in the evenin'.''

'« And where t "

" On the Strathellon road."

" The Strathellon road ! Why, what was Mr. Hepburn
doing there 1 "

" Indeed, mem, I canna tell ye. I wadT^. be sae ill bred,
ye ken, as to gang speerin' into ither folks business."
(6)

• J

ii 9

.SG

Jduiis Ilt'plnirn,

iU'l

M-

Mrs. Watson changed colour slightly, but she only
sharply retorted —

" And what were you doing, Blackwood ? "

" I was just speerin' for some one I was gey anxious to
hae a word wi', an' thocht wad be couiin' alang that road.
That was hoo I got in the way."

'* And this shot? I suppose that was what the keeper
was here about. Did you hear it ? "

" No, mem. 1 heard nae shot."

"Did Mr. Hepburn?"

*' I never askit him. Deed after sic a crack on the heid,
I can tell ye a man's nae gleg at askin' questions. I'm no
vera sure I richtly kent whar I was, or what had happened,
till after I was inside th" manse."

" Did Mr. Hepburn say nothing about where he had
been ? " was the question Mrs. Watson was longing to ask,
but the remembrance of Blackwood's last thrust withheld
her. Disappointment and irritation combined, naturally
found vent in good advice. " Really, I must say, Black-
wood," she said, " the whole story is most unsatisfactory,
and I'm sure I hope you'll take warning by it. You might
have been actually killed outright ; and it never looks well
for a man to be wandering about in that way at night. It
is really almost fortunate you had that accident, for there
has evidently been some poaching going on, and you might
have been suspected and got into trouble. See what it is to
have such a character as lays you open to suspicion ! Mr.
Watson would really be forced to take serious measures if
any of the hands were accused of poaching, so I hope you'll
be more carieful in future."

This lucid and logical intermixture of warning and exhor
tation was received by Robert Blackwood in a sullen silence
which wrtH a common refuge of all the Blackwoods when.

Jotiu's Hcplmrn.

only

us to
road.

keeper

le heul,

I'm no

ppened,

he had

y to ayk,

withheld

laturally
Black-

sfactory,

5U might
)oks well
ght. It
or there
u might
,t it is to
n ! Mr.
asures if
,pe you'll

lid exl»or
In silence
)ds wheii.

circumstances were not to their liking ; and as the tempor.
ary condition of his face was not such as to render its ex-
pression easy of interpretation, Mrs. Watson was left in
unc«rtainty as to what ett'ect her judicious observations
might have made.

She carried away with her a greatly increased sense of the
grave and alarming aspect of circumstances. Robert Black,
wood's manner had certainly not been satisfactory, but
then the Black woods never were satisfactory, especially
to an inquiring mind bent upon investigating their private
affairs, so perhaps there was not snuch in that. The extreme
gravity of the case lay in the fact that Mr. Hepburn, at
some unknown hour of the night, was driving his dog-cart
along th& road to Strathelloii. That road, after passing the
entrance to Strathellon, gradually b: :,ame little more than a
mere cart track, leading only to a fe^\ scattered cottages
and finally losing itself on a wide tract of moorland. There
was no room for any reasonable supposition other than that
the minister was either going to, or returning from Strath-
ellon. This in itself would have been grave indication of
vvorldliness ; but when all the gossip of the neighbourhood,
vaguely formulated under the elastic phrase "all we know
about Lady Ellinor," was taken into account, it really con-
tained dark suggestions of much more terrible import. She
was so completely wrapt up in Ker meditations, that she
nearly ran over Mrs. Haigg without seeing her.

" You are early abroad Mrs. Watson. Have you been
to the Thompsons' ? "

" Not tx)-day. I saw them yesterday."

" Oh well, I suppose one need not trouble one's self about
them now. They'll be quite independent of our small efforts-
Turtle soup and champagne, I should think. Mrs. Tweedie
will be quite a popular person if she brings Lady Ellinor

James Hepburn.

Farquharson into the town in this way. Whether she'll
improve the morals of the place is another thing."

" It wasn't Mrs Tweedie, it was Mr. Hepburn."

" Mr. Hepburn ! My dear Mrs. Watson, he does not
know Lady Ellinor. Only three days ago, J heard him say,
at Mrs. Jardine's, that he had never seen her, save at a dis-
tance, on horseback or driving."

" Really ! Well I was told it was he," replied Mrs.
Watson, with a sudden access of caution. Appearances
were growing more and more serious, and she was not going
to allow Mrs. Haigg to get possession of her trump card. It
was more than very, it was awfully serious, for how was it
possible to escape the conviction that that assertion was a
downright lie ; and if so, it must have been told with a pur-
pose. Could things really have gone so far ? she questioned
with herself as she walked on. Then, as though darkly
prophesying to some sympathetic listener, she muttered half
aloud — " Mark my words. That will prove a most disas-
trous acquaintance. I "

She really experienced quite a severe shock. A turn in
the road brought her, just at that moment, in full view of
the Free Church manse. Before the door was standing
Lady Ellinor Farquharson's pony carriage, and down the
small strip of garden in front of the house were slowly
walking, evidently in deep discussion, Lady Ellinor herself,
and Mr. Hepburn ; he hatless, evidently escorting her to
her carriage.

Mrs. Watson gave a gasp, and stopped dead. The cul-
pable couple stood for a moment talking on the pavement.
Then Lady Ellinor got into her carriage, and as she took
the reins, Mr. Hepburn wrapped the rug round her, and his
manner in Mrs. Watson's eyes, was so maiked by unbecom-
ing familiarity, that her indignation was strongly aroused.

,1 ..

James Hephnm.

she'll

s not

n say,

a dis-

Mrs.
ranees
b going
rd. It
was it

was a ^
w a pur-
jstioned

darkly
red half
it disas-

turn in
view of
itanding
»wn the

slowly
herself,

her to

:he cul-

Ibvement-

she took

and his

linbecom-

aroused.

He received in turn, as the ponies moved, a smile which
brought strongly to Mrs. Watson's mind Mr. Tjaing's abom-
inable assertions. Mr. Hepburn walked slowly back into
the house. Lady EUinor passed close to Mrs. Watson, who
fixed upon her the medusa-like glare of the virtuous Biitish
matron, deeming that still lingering smile a false and deceit-
ful thing — one of the wiles of a very syren. She reached
home almost in a state of mental collapse, the result of the
violent fermentation of her horror, indignation, and out-
raged morality.

Some ten minutes before Mrs Watson's appalling dis-
covery, Mrs * Tweedie, stopping to exchange a few words
with Mr..Laing, had had her attention called to the pony
carriage, standing at the manse gate.

" Will you take my wager now ? " he asked.

She shook her head. " Mr. Hepburn is not made of
such inflammable material. But I entirely retract my
award to you of a gold medal."

" Why ? "

'* Because had I foreseen their ever making any acquaint-
ance, I would rather you had bitten your tongue oft* than
set all those women's backs up as you did."

" Hang the fellow ! Serves him right. He deserves to
get torn to pieces. Would she come and visit me in that
way ? It's quite abominable the advantages ministers and
doctors have. It's only fair they should pay for them. I
have a great mind to go and tell Mrs. Haigg, that through
the window I distinctly saw him kiss her. Do you think
she would believe it ? "

" I am quite sure she would repeat it."

JaiiiP.H fffpfnirv.

('haptkk VTT.

A PSYCHOLOGICAL PUZZLE.

MR. HEPBURN'S mental condition, as he walked slowly
back into the house, after seeing Lady Ellinor Far-
quharson to the carriage, was wholly frt^e from any sinful
elation or malicious gratification in glancing at envying
rivals. The short space of time which had elapsed since
Robert Blackwood had left the manse with his brother had
been quite sufiicient for a considerable increase of the min-
ister's anxious perplexity. The bare consciousness of the
man being wholly at large, with a murderous intent against
some one developed within him, was in itself a heavy mental
burden. Could he only have been assured that the object
of Blackwood's enmity was aware of its existence, he would
have felt somewhat relieved, for the man's homicidal ten-
dencies were clearly not of an impartially general character
and Mr. Hepburn felt very sure the narrow escape he had
had of committing an irretrievable blunder would render
him more cautious for the future. But this was, after all,
a watery gleam of consolation, more than counterbalanced
by a graver aspect of the question brought under his notice
that very morning.

Mrs. Findlay, on hearing the previous morning who was
temporary domiciled under the same roof as her turtle dove,
had acted with crafty promptness. She had forthwith
granted her pretty niece a holiday, and despatched her with-
out loss of time to spend the day with a friend. Mary
Warrender had set out in total unconsciousness of the

Jit III fH Hcitltiirn,

eventfi of the nifj^ht, and hnd not it^turnHd until Home time
after Rob Blarkwood had lett the houH(>.

It was Mr. Hepburn's practice, immediately after his
breakfast, to retire to his study for two or three hours hard
reading before giving himself up to the more desultory
occupations of a minister's time. On the morning after
Blackwood's departure, he had not been many minutes in
his study, when there came a light tap at the door, followed
by the entrance of Mary Warrender, wearing a slightly
embarrassed air.

" Please, sir, can I speak to ye ? "

•' Certainly. What's the matter ? Have you been light-
ing the fire with some of my manuscripts ? "

'* Oh no, sir. I wanted to ask you about — alK>ut Rob
Blackwood."

Mr. Hepburn gave a slight start, and looked at the girl,
as she stood colouring a little, and twisting a corner of her
apron around her finger, with more attention than he had
ever bestowed.on her before. She was certainly very pretty ;
but not on the whole a damsel from whom unfailing pru-
dence and staid sobriety of demeanour might be confidently
expected. There was nothing low, nothing sinster looking
about her. But she looked as if she might be giddy, and
possibly an adept in the arts of flirtation.

" What about Blackwood ? " asked the minister, after a
moment's scrutiny.

" There was some accident, an' ye ken somethin' about it,
sir. I ken Rob was here through the nicht."

" Who told you anything about it ? "

She shifted her position a little. " Weel, sir, ye ken
Maggie an' I were aye frien's. But my aunt canna thole
the Blackwoods, sae I've nae often a chance to see her. I
just took the opportunity to gang roun' an' see her yestei-

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23 WiST MAIN STRiiT

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716)872-4503

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day, and I heard somethin' o't there ; but iiae just exactly
what had happened."

Mr. Hepburn had been standing by his writing table
while she spoke. He did not at once reply. When he did
he merely said, " sit down," seating himself at the same
time in his writing chair.

Mary Warrender obeyed. Still Mr. Hepburn did not
speak for some few moments. Then fixing his keen pene-
trating glance upon her, he asked —

'* Do you intend to marry Robert Blackwood, Mary ! "

The girl gave her head a slight but significant toss. " I
canna just say," she replied. " I'm no a'thegither sure."

" But he wants you to marry him ? "

" Oh yes. He's been botherin' me to promise him this
year past an' mair."

" And why don't you give him a decided answer 1 "

'* That's no sae easy dune. I like Rob weel eneuch. But
he doesna stick steady to onything. I've nae mind to marry
a man that's aye shiftin' aboot, sae as one wad ne'er ken if
one's hoose was one's ain for six months. That's no a com-
fortable way o' livin'. I tell't Rob plain eneuch I wadna
mak' up my mind till I see'd him settle steady to somethin'.
An' Kob says he'll no settle to onything till lie's sure I mean
to tak' him, so there it just stands."

Mr. Hepburn smiled. Mrs. Findlay's anxiety appeared
to be a trifle overdone. Mary Warrender seemed to be at
least when marriage was in question, what the world would
call a very prudent girl ; that is, one not in tht least likely
to relegate self too much to the background.

" Do you think that is quite fair ? " he asked.
"How, sir?" ^

" You are demanding from Blackwood that he shall do a
certain thing, with a view to gain a certain object. Yet

Jainen Hejtfmim.

you refuse to pledge yourself that he shall thereby gain
that object. I mean " he added, seeing that she looked a
little puzzled, " that I think you ought either to refuse
Blackwood at once, or promise that you will marry him on
condition that he settles steadily down to some occupation.
You cannot expect him to act in a certain way, in order to
win you for his wife, while he remains quite uncertain
whether, in the end, you will oven then marry him."

" Oh, but there's mair to think aboot than that. Bob's
awfu' jealous. I've no great mind to a jealous husband.
I've a cousin married to a jealous husband, an' sho's an
awfu' time o't whiles. Bob an' I hae had words aboot it
afore now. I'll no say but he's got some notion in his heid
the noo. He's been gey short in the temper for some time,
and looked unco dour whiles."

Mr. Hepburn gave her a keen look. Had he unexpect-
edly lighted upon a clue, to guide him at least in the right
direction in which to seek a solution of his burdensome
enigma ? Jealousy was likely enough to be a most potent
arouser of all the worst passions of Robert Blackwood's
sullen revengeful nature. This frivolous coquettish damsel
might chance to turn out a more important person than she
appeared. He contemplated her with almost cynical amuse-
ment for a moment. Was it possible that that trim, neat
little personage, with her bright, fresh, almost childlike
face, was in reality the cause of his having so narrowly
escaped being murdered ?

"Have you ever given Blackwood any cause for jeal-
ousy?" he asked.

" I've never gi'en him ony right to be jealous, so he's no
business to concern himself wi' what I do," she replied,'
somewhat pertly.

*' Don't speak in that flippant way, girl," said the minis-

J a, inf*< Hephnrv .

§■■

Ifi

■

,;i

M \

ter sternly. '' Robert Blackwood is not a man whose jeal-
ousy it is at all safe to play with. You may be the cause
of more mischief than you have any idea of. Tell me hon-
estly, at once, if you know of any special person, whom he
is jealous of now ?"

"No, indeed I don't, sir," replied the girl, a little fright-
ened at his manner. " Rob wadna be satisfied wi' onything
short o' my never say in' a word to ony young fellow save
himsel', an' he's whiles savage about one, whiles about
anither ; but I dinna ken o' ony special person he's suspi-
cious about."

" Well, Mary," said Mr. Hepburn, gravely, " it is pretty
clear how the case stands with you. Your vanity is flat-
tered by having a fine handsome fellow like Robert Black-
wood hanging about after you, and you like to show your
power and keep him dangling about without committing
yourself. Now I tell you you are acting xery wrongly, and
mind you, in a way involving no small danger to yourself.
Blackwood is just the sort of man whom jealousy would be
likely to drive to some desperate act, and you might quite
as likely be the victim of it yourself, as any man he fancied
you favoured. Either promise him at once that if he will
settle down quietly, and keep steady to something for a
certain time, you will marry him at the end of that time, or
refuse him definitely at once. Your present way of acting
is heartless and unprincipled. If evil comes of it to you,
you will have drawn it on yourself. If it falls upon some
one else, the guilt will mainly rest upon your head. Sup-
pose Blackwood njurdered some man in a tit of jealous rage
and was hung for it, how would you like to live, all your
life, with the blood of two men lying at your door 1 "

The girl turned pale. " Lord, sir," she exclaimed, '• Rob
wad ne'er gang sae far as that."

Janie» Hepburn.

Rob

" How can you tell l It is not to 1>« supposed a men"
child like you can understand what itien feol ; but at any
rate you can read. You must know how often the papers
report cases of murder, caused solely by jealousy, and.
remember, it is not unfrequently the woman herself is the
victim. Go now, and think well over what I have said.
I shall tell you nothing about Blackwood. While you
continue to trifle in this way you have no right to ask any
questions. There is only one thing more. If you would
diminish the risk of very serious evil, do not fail, should
you see any cause to suspect Blackwood is jealous of any
particular person, to let me know at once who it is."

Mary retired, looking very pale and subdued, but the
minister f^lt his morning's reading was rendered hopeless
for that day. The danger, or the clearness of the percep-
tion of it seemed gravely increased by what he had heard.
" Just the man," he muttered to himself, "to try and make
away with a dreaded rival." And the hypothesis fitted in
well with Blackwood's own remarks, about injuries which
no law would help him to avenge. But who was that sup-
posed rival ? He was quite certain Mary had been speak-
ing truthfully when she said she had no Tdea herself ; but
she was not a remarkably sagacious damsel. Nothing was
more likely than that Blackwood, if he really suspected
any special rival, would carefully conceal that fact from
her, with a view of watching, unsuspected, what went on.
And if such were the case, the girl might really, in all in-
nocence, feed a flame of which she was wholly unaware.
He began almost to wish that he was habitually a little less
impatient of gossip. Had he quaffed more freely of the
perennial founts of the same always overflowing in every
corner of Mossgiel, he might have found out now, that he
had been swallowing draughts of useful knowledge un-

i i

James Hep! mm.

awares. As long as we are coiiipelled, whether we will or
not, to have dealings with evil and foolish people, it is by no
means safe wholly to ignore what evil and foolish people say.

About this point in his reflection came another tap at the
door. This time it was Mrs. Findlay, bristling in every
line of face and figure with unexpressed protests against the
minister's doings, and charged with a messa^^'e. Adam
Blackwood had just looked in to say his brother Robert
would greatly like to speak to Mr. Hepburn, and as his face
was still much swollen, hoped the minister would not take
it amiss if he asked him to look in and see him in the course
of the afternoon.

The thread of his musings thus cut short, Mr. Hepburn
did try to betake himself to study ; but he found no satis-
faction that day in Spinoza, Kenan, or any other heretical
abomination, and it was a positive relief to him when Lady
Ellinor Farquharson was announced.

" I am on my way to Mrs. Tweedie's," she said, " with a
few things needed for poor Thomson. But I want to know
about that man who was missing. I think his name is
Blackwood. Has he been heard of ? "

'•Blackwood — What do you know about him?" asked
Mr. Hepburn, somewhat startled.

" I heard about him at Thomson's, that he had been out
all night, and they seemed to think you knew something.
One of our keepers had heard a shot in the night, and we
' were rather uneasy, so General Farquharson sent a man to
ask yesterday, but they were barely civil, and would tell
him nothing. The keepers have been looking along the
road, and they say something heavy has been dragged across
it, and there is some confusion of wheel marks, so we are
getting quite excited. Do you know anything about the
matter ? "

JawfH Ht'phii'ni.

" A good deal too much," replied Mr. Hepburn ; nnd
then he told her so much of his adventure as the circum-
stances rendered necessary.

" Strange he should have been walking al>out with a
loaded pistol about him," she said thoughtfully, '' in a
peaceful orderly country like this."

" The Blackwoods do not bear a very good character," he
replied, his whole soul revolting the while against the verb-
ally accurate misleader. " They may well have enemies
where other people would fear none. Pray tell General
Farquharson the facts when you go home, and put a stop to
all further questioning. It is sure to breed bad feeling in a
gossiping place like this."

This being the tenor of Mr. Hepburn's conversation with
Lady EUiiior Farquharson, it may well be imagined that
her fascinations were not the uppermost thought in his
mind as he walked back into the manse, to prepare for a
still more distasteful interview with Blackwoorl himself.

" I hope ye'U excuse my askin' ye to cqme here, sir,"
Blackwood said, with more show of respect in manner than
he was apt to assume towards any one. " I'm no verra fit
to be seen yet. No that it matters rauckle the noo. We're
no gaun to keep this business quiet, ye see, sir. I doubt ye
dinna ken Mossgiel sae weel as I do, or ye'd no hae thocht
o' sic a thing."

" The shot was heard it seems."

" Yes, an' ane o' the keepers was speerin' afore I cam'
doun. An' Mrs. Watson's been here the day, in a fine
takin'. I had to tell her just what we settled. She's a
body that doesna miss aught she'd fain ken, for want o'
down right speerin', an' she's sair concerned to find oot
what ye were doin' on the Strathellon road at that time o'
nicht. I wad'na say, but she thinks minister's like young
leddies, sud na be oot after the darkenin."

Mil .

Jaines Hepburn.

Mr. Hepburn did not immediately reply. He sat silent,
knitting his brows a little, but he was not thinking of Mrs.
Watson. He was questioning with himself whether it
might be possible to turn Blackwood's flank by a sudden
attack, to win some incautious admission from him, by a
pointed and direct question. But he decided against tiic
attempt. The Blackwood face was a perfect mask. Save
by the lowering gloom which marked dissatisfaction of any
kind, it never betrayed anything. His best course was to
leave the man wholly ignorant of the fact that he enter-
tained the most remote wish to tind out anything about the
matter. Blackwood sat watching him observantly. At
last he said —

*' I'm sair vexed about it, sir. T wish it had been ony-
body but yersel. Though it's ill sayin' that, for if it had, I
wad hae been in gaol the noo."

" Why should you be vexed ? "

" W*»' " ir, I ken weel eneuch, to get mixed up ony gait
wi' a nc -do weel lot like us, is no what a minister likes."

" You are quite wrong then. Ne'er-do-weels are just the
class with whom ministers ought to be most constantly
mixed up. But, Blackwood, why in the world should you
be ne'er-do A'eels ? Fine intelligent fellows like you and
your brothers, who have had good schooling, have no excuse
for sinking down in that way."

" We've no chance o' aught else, sir. Hae ye no heard
tell aboot my mother ?"

The minister looked at him in surprise. Had he been
taking a dip into the subject of heredity 1 " Your mother?"
he repeated.

" Ay, sir. 1 doubt ye've no been sae lang in Mossgiel
wi' oot hearin' hoo it's mair than suspected we made awa
wi' her."

Janifs Hcplmrv.

Of)

o excuse

"Yes, of course I have heard that."

"An' believed it?"

" How could I either believe, or disbelieve ? 1 know no-
thing about it."

" Ye're the first person I ever cared sud know the real
truth, sir. I was but a lad at the time. It's six years past
the noo. The way o't was this. A gomeril that lived
down by the beach then took it into his heid he could niak'
money wi' a bathin' machine, un' he set ane up. Mother
took up wi' it maist tremendously. She was aye gien to
takin' violent fancies about things, and then nothin' wad
turn her. She and my father had woids aboot the expense,
mair than once. One day she was gaein' down when father
met her on the beach. I doubt he'd been drinkin', though
he was na fair aff his heid ; but drink aye made him quarrel-
some. They had a terrible quarrel on the beach ; gettin'
excited aye gave her a chance o' ane o' they fits, an' she
went on, an' had ane in the water, an' was drowned. Father
had come up ragin' and sayin', it wad be a gude thing if
she never cam' oot, an' some folk aboot had heard them
quarrelling, sae it was ower the town in no time, she'd
been murdered, and we've been a doomed lot since. A
minister like you, sir, wha's aye been rcspectit, doesna ken
how easy it mak's it to be a blackguard an' a rascal, the
kennin' that everyone believes ye're one."

" It makes it still easier to excuse yourelf from trying to
be anything else, and I suspect you have been making use
of it that wpy. When have you ever made an honest dght
against the prejudice 1 Until you have done that, and been
worsted, don't try that shallow artifice of shifting your
OMm responsibilities on to society."

"Ye hit as hard wi' yer tongue, as wi' yer fist, Mr.
Hepburn, but ye're no like a minister ava. Ye sud hae be-
gun talkin' about prayer, and the grace o' God."

100

James Hepburn.

i!fi

!■;

" So I niif^ht, and I might have recited a few verses of
the New Testament in Greek, and the one would have been
as much use to you as the othor. Only that in the one case
you would have known you had not the faintest perception
of the meaning. In the other you would not have known it.
But what made you anxious I should know the truth about
your mother ? "

" Because I wad like ye no to think war o' us than need
be. But there was mair than that I wanted to say to ye.

Maybe ye'll no believe it, when I winna promise just
what ye wad like, but I wad fain do somethin' to show ye
I'm no ungrateful for yer kindness."

" That's easy enough. You'll repay me amply for far
more than I have done for you, if you will lift off me the
burden of the knowledge that I am in some measure respon-
sible for your being at large, with a deliberate intention of
murdering some one."

" Killin's no always murder, sir. An' that was what
was in my mind. I'll make' nae promise, but if I pit
myself oot o' the way o' carrin' it through, it wad come to
pretty near the same. I've frien's oot in New Zealand. I'd
gang straucht oot there, if Mary Warrender wad marry
me, and gang wi' me. If ye could manage to bring that
aboot, ye wad hae gained yer end."

Then she was at the bottom of this tangle. " I had some
talk with her about you this morning," Mr. Hepburn re-
plied. " She asked after you. You and she seem to me to
have both a considerable aptitude for looking at the ques-
tion of marriage from a purely selfish point of view. I
told her she ought either to refuse you finally at once, or
promise she would marry you on condition that you settled
steadily to something, anJ held to it for any stipulated
time. But you can surely scarcely credit I would lend my-

■1' .■

James Hfphum.

101

les of
been
) case
ption
vn it.
about

I need
bo ye.
3 just
ow ye

or far
le the
•espon-
lion of

1 what
r I pit
ame to
I'd
marry
kg that

,d some
urn re-
me to
le ques-
iew. I
mce, or
settled
pulated
end my-

self to any such scheme as you suggest. If she asked my
advice, it would be to break off all acquaintance with you.
You are not a man I would recommend any woman to
marry ; and as for advising a girl like her, a mere child, to
place herself in the power of a man who is at the moment
giving proof of utterly distorted moral preceptions, and go
off with him to a distant country — the very suggestion is
monstrous."

Blackwood's brow lowered. " Ye're no blate o' speaking
yer mind, sir," he said.

" Certainly I am not. I don't expect you to be able to
take a clear and correct view of any question which touches
yourself ; otherwise I should say the suggestion you have
made is simply an insult."

" I didn't mean it so."

" I know you didn't. You can't see anything correctly
in which you are personally concerned. But if you are so
determinedly bent on getting Mary Warrender to marry
you, does it not occur to you that to commit murder is not
the most likely way to accomplish your end ? "

" If she means to marry ony one, it will hae to be me.
She'll marry no one else."

*' I doubt you won't be consulted."

"Will I not? Mary'll be my wife, or no one's wife.
Ye may tak' yer aith o' that."

" How old are you, Blackwood ? "

"Twenty-two past, sir."

" And Mary Warrender is about eighteen. You have
both time enough to wait. Arrange to go out to New
Zealand at once. I'll help you if you like ; and I will urge
Mary to promise you that if you keep steady and prove
you have lived quietly and respectably for three years, she
will marry you then, unless she chooses to break off with

(7)

IOl>

Jnni*'H Ut,'f)hni'n.

i.l

i i;

■!l

you altogether. Then you would Ik» free to marry some
one else."

Tlu* Blackwood kcowI had nettled dov;n on Koliert's fiice.

'• Mary'll gang wi* me the noo, or I'll no gang awa," he
replied sullenly.

Knowing it wan iiHeless to attempt anything in that
mood, Mr. Hepburn left him. Ho pretty, coquettish Mary
Warrender was the " she " in this case. But was it with
or without reason 1 Hhe made the former very probable
— he, the latter. He judged it far from impossible that her
positive declaration, that she did not know who was the
special object of his jealousy, might be more correctly read
with "which" substituted for "who."

He returned home thoughtful and anxious walking with
a grave, abstracted air, and was keenly scrutinized by Mrs.
Haigg and Miss Muir, who were sitting together at the
drawing-room window of the latter lady, which commanded
a full view of the manse.

" Our minister looks very sad and solemn to-day, don't
you think ? " remarked Mrs. Haigg. " He is not so much
elated as one might expect after having the honour of a
visit from Lady Ellinor Farquharson.

" Oh, but then he has been visiting his dear friends the
Blackwoods since, perhaps that is less inspiriting. I was
at the Thomsons' this afternoon. He crossed from their
house to the Blackwoods just as I went down the street. I
sat with Thomson for some time. He had not come out of
the Blackwoods when I left, so it was a long visit. They
are strange people for a minister to make so much of."

" Oh, my dear, don't you see, he is trying to convert
Robert, after knocking him down, and nearly killing him ;
which is of course the exact truth of that business."

" Ohj of course," replied Miss Muir. " But really people

»:

Jaiiu'n Htpbwni.

108

BOiiie

\ t'tvce.

" he

n that
Mary
it with
robable
hat her
HW& the
tly read

who don't see very well ut night Hhoulu take loine one to
drive them, when they are out after dark."

•♦ Why ? You don't mean."

'* I mean just what 1 say. Home people'8 sight is not
good at night, you know."

" Dear, dear, I never thought of such a thing. Really,
how deceptive appearances are."

" Yes, my dear, especially at night."

Then the tea tray came in, and the conversation whs
changed.

ing with
by Mrs.
r at the
nmanded

ay, don't
so much
lOur of a

iends the
I was
rom their
street. 1
me out of
ait. They

of."
convert

ling him ;

BSS.

ally people

104

James Hepburn.

Chapter VIII.

■■I^-

•i^

['J

<^^^

I *■■■ • ^

0Ki?7? DISCIPLINED,

MARY WARRENDER was still looking very grave
and subdued when she brought in dinner that even-
ing, and after she had cleared the tiible, she still stood hesi-
tating in the room.

" Please sir," she began at last. Then she paused.

" Well, what is it ? " asked the minister, looking up from
hit' book.

" Ye said I was to tell ye, if I thought o' ony one."

" Yes. Has your memory improved since the morning ? '
he asked, with a touch of grim sarcasm. He did not feel
specially drawn towards this flighty damsel, who had — all
unwittingly — brought such sore trouble upon him.

''I've been thinkin', sir; an' I canna but think it'll be
some one about Strathellon."

" Ha ! " exclaimed the minister, with more show of in-
terest, as the remembrance flashed across him of Blackwood's
sudden change of manner, when he asked whether Mr. Hep-
burn had any reason to expect anyone would be coming
8» iong the road. " What makes you think so ? "

" Weel, sir, ye ken there was a gran' servants' ball at
Htrathellon last Christmas, afore ye cam' to Mossgiel, an'
aunt an' me was asked. Aunt was housemaid there lang-
ayne, in auld Mr. Farquharson's time. It was a gran' ball.
There was a sicht o* people there ; an' Rob was there ; an'
I dinna think he's aye been quite like himsel' since then.
He was aye wantin' to ken, if I'd been oot, whar I'd been ;

i •<'•

Jumes Hepburn.

106

an' 1 mind once I'd been for a walk wi' my cousin's wife —
awa' through the woods alang the river bank — an when he
speered whar I'd been, just for mischief, I tauld him, an
didna say she was wi' me, an' he gave me an awfu-li^e luke,
siccan a glower, I ne'er seed the like -I was fair frichted
that day."

" And do you mean to say you've no idea who he is jealous
of, Mary ? Can you remember any one at the ball ? — any
one you danced with very often, for instance ? "

" No, sir. T canna, indeed. I didna want for partners,"
sht added, with a slight toss of her head. " I hadna muckle
chance to dance often wi' the same partner. But I am sure
Rob's ne'er been quite the same since ; sae 1 thought I'd
just tell ye. I am sure I dinna want to do ony harm to
ony one."

" You did quite right to tell me. But take my advice,
Mary — either break off at once with Blackwood, or give him
some definite answer."

Mary retired, not looking, Mr. Hepburn thought, quite ms
though she relished this last piece of advice. " She is a
thorough paced flirt," he said to himself, " and can't make
up her mind to let a handsome lover go. Heaven grant she
mayn't pay a dear price for her folly."

In the course of a night not blessed with very sound
slumber, he lesolved that the next day he would go and see
General Farquharson's head-keeper, and enlighten him so
far as might ensure it becoming known about Strathellon
that Robert Blackwood was not a man whose jealousy it was
safe to excite. It might chance, in that way, that the
object of the man's intended vengeance might be indirectly
warned.

In the grounds, however, he met General Farquharson
himself.

106

James Hepburn.

!*■■;
h'-'.'

I'l I ■'

■I , '

Ifi i

" Ah, Mr. Hepburn," he said, '* glad to see you. Were
you coining to enliven us with a visit? A nice sort of a
minister yOU are, driving over Her Majesty's lieges in the
dark. The loaded pistol is an ugly feature in the case
though. Don't you think so 1 "

" Unquestionably, and uglier perhaps indirectly than
directly. The Blackwoods may well have their own reasons
for going about armed ; but it is a dangerous practice. I
was on my way to speak to your head keeper, for I have
picked up some information which makes me fear there are
special dangers attending the circumstance of Robert Black-
wood roaming about with loaded pistols in his possession.
But as you are at home, I should like if you arc disengaged,
to tell you what I have heard."

" By all means ; " and he led the way to the library.
There Mr. Hepburn told so much of his tale as it suited him
to tell.

" You will see my reason for grave anxiety," he said, in
conclusion. " The father is a confirmed drunkard — the moth-
er was epileptic. Under such circumstances one must ex-
pect the possibility of violent and uncontrollable impulses.
I believe his devotion to the girl is sincere. Were he some
day, when thus armed, to meet some object of thoroughly
aroused jealousy, I would not be answerable for the conse-
quence. Even unarmed he would be dangerous, for he is a
powerful man."

" You are quite right," replied General Farquharson. " I
have known such cases. He would be extremely likely to
murder some object of suspicion, under some sudden impulse.
But I cannot think at the moment of any likely object here.
In fact, our establishment is, I should say, almost too new.
It was only last summer that Lady EUinor and I settled
down here. The place Ijad been shut up for some time pre-

'iu \

JameH Hephuni.

107

viously. However, I will speak to Johnstone ; he is a cau-
tious, sensible man, and will be very likely to get at more
than either you or I shall. If he can find out anything, I
will let you know. It is the youngest brother, Robert, you
say ? "

"Yes."

" It is certainly strange he should be prowling about with
loaded pistols. I should have been less surprised had it
been one of the others. I have heard Johnstone speak of
them, and say he believed the youngest was the only one
who was not a confirmed poacher. I allowed him to 1)e
asked to the servants' ball last Christmas, the only one of
the brothers wlio was. Are you going ? " he asked as M r.
Hepburn rose. " Will you not wait till Lady EUinor comes
in ? I believe she is out riding."

" Not today, thank you. I have several visits to pay."

After Mr. Hepburn was gone. General Farquharson
resigned himself to serious meditation. He was much dis-
turbed by what he had heard ; but his thoughts went off in
an entirely unsuggested direction. Two young brothers of
Lady Ellinor had been staying a good deal at Strathellon,
as well as sundry cousins of his own. Could one or more of
them have been poaching, after the fashion in which tire
rich man, without any great sense of culpability, is occas-
ionally apt to repay the enormous crime of the poor man's
raids on his pheasants, and have thus succeeded in arousing
such a dangerous hostility ? This possibility gave the mat-
ter a very grave aspect in his eyes. He was an honourable,
kindly natured man, but had been well fitted into his groove ;
and a danger which might threaten a man moving in his
own sphere of life certainly seemed to him a far more seri-
ous affair than one only concerning some gamekeeper, or
other retainer.

108

Jaw^s Hepburn.

i ii

,■(■.

' M'i '■■ I

Some half hour after Mr. Hepburn's departure he saw
Lady Ellinor's horse pass the window on the way to the
stables, and he forthwith went slowly upstairs to her 1k)u-
doir. The room was empty, but tea was waiting.

" Is that you Stuart ?" said Lady Ellinor's voice through
the half closed curtains of her dressing-room. " I will be
with you in a few minutes."

General Farquharson walked up to the tire-place, and
standing with his back to it took a leisurely survey of the
room, not without a certain expression of anxiety on his
face. He was by no means insensible to the fact that a
middle aged man, who takes to himself a young and very
beautiful wife, accepts responsibilities which would be want-
ing werfe his age nearer to her own. But unfortunately his
consciousness of the bare fact was far more clear than his
judgment as to how to deal with it was sound. To surround
her with every possible luxury, to accord to her the most
absolute liberty of action, and to leave no wish of hers
unfulfilled which it was in his power to gratify, was his
constant study. It was not in him to treat any woman
otherwise than with chivalrous courtesy, and to his wife his
demeanour was simply chivalrously courteous, with some
little infusion of an affection which might have been pater-
nal, fraternal, anything in fact save conjugal. He had
marked out for himself, clearly and distinctly, the line of
conduct which he held to be the fitting one for a man much
older than a very beautiful wife, and in that line of conduct
he had never failed, never would fail. If it failed of the
results he anticipated, he would only blame himself for not
carrying it out more efficiently, and would steadily persevere
in trying to insure his wife's happiness, after the method
which he judged to be the right one, at the cost of any
amount of personal sac:'ifice.

Jtniies He ph turn.

109

Lady EUinor had not been offered up a struggling victim
on the altar of Mammon. Her mother had not sufficient of
the maternal heroism so often brilliantly manifested in
society, for such a sacrifice. She had been equal to pointing
out with much force and clearness the advantages of the
marriage, and had then left her daughter to make her own
decision, only rejoicing when the girl showed herself capable
of subordinating romance to good sense ; the which, with her
temperament, she certainly never would have done, but for
the accidental circumstance that she never really loved any
one. In that fact lay the strength and the weakness, the
safety and the danger, of the situation. She had nothing
to struggle with, and resolutely battle down, in her relations
to her husband ; but she had neither a past to protect her
from, nor ejcperience to give her quickness in reading the
signs of coming perils should they arise. A vague indefin-
able sense of disappointment had begun to steal over her
soon after her marriage. General Farquharson was so in-
variably the model husband ; so patient if she was petulant
or unreasonable ; so very close on patient, too, when her
youthful spirits led her into gaiety and frolic ; so tenderly
solicitous if she was indisposed, or out of spirits ; but withal
so calm and carefully correct that his very goodness irritated
her occasionally to a degree which caused her generous
nature the deepest remorse. On one occasion, some unex-
pected act of thoughtful kindness on his part, coming upon
lier suddenly in the midst of one of these fits of remorse, so
wrought upon her that she threw herself into his arms with
a burst of tears ; whereupon he gently but hastily disen-
gaged himself from her embrace, expressed the most affec-
tionate dread that she had over-fatigued herself, and insisted
upon placing her on a sofa and ringing for her maid to
attend to her. Lady Ellinor had never again indulged in

1 1

'. m

fci

I,: i

i-il

I,'

.: '} '''■

110

JanifH Hpphnrn.

any such manifestations , but the whole two years of her
married life had been taken up in constantly impressing
upon herself what an excellent husband General Farquhar-
son was, and how dearly she ought to love him ; and in
bitterly upbraiding herself for the deficiency in that respect
of which she was keenly conscious. That momentary flash
of bitterness about the ponies, and her instant contrition,
were but an outward manifestation of processes perpetually
going on in her own mind. Certainly, as the minister had
divined, with but slight knowledi^e of the facts, the position
was not one to render constant asssociation with sucli a man
as Sir Maurice Adair absolutely devoid of danger.

General Farquharson, as he sat glancing over the room
was meditating whether there was not something which
might be provided to increase its luxurious comfort. It
seemed as if it would be impossible to suggest additions ;
but might not some alterations be effected which would
gratify Lady Ellinor 1 To forestall a wish was immeasur-
ably above gratifying a wish, if he had only felt certain
which she would like. While he was ruminating she entered
the room, looking, he thought, even more lovely than usual,
with the flush of exercise still lingering on her face.

" I am so thirsty," she said, going towards the tea table.
" It was really quite hot to-day, riding." Then she uttered
a little exclamation of impatience.

" What is the matter, my love ? " he asked.

" Only this wretch of a teapot gushed into the sugar the
moment I closed the lid."

" What is the matter with it ? Is there something wrong ?
Why do you not tell them to bring you another ? "

" Oh, they are all alike. All teapots are the same. They
do it on purpose to annoy one."

" Could you not design one, Ellinor, that you would like

James Hepburn.

Ill

3f her

essing

quhar-

md in

respect

y flash

trition,

etually

:er had

)OBition

1 a man

le room
t which
ort. It
ditions ;
would
imeasur-
certain
entered
lin usual,

ja table.
3 uttered

ugar the

g wrong ?

ne. They
vould like

better, or give such an idea as would enable Bridges d:
Bruce to design it ? I would write at once about it. It
cannot be necessary a teapot should do that. It must be
some fault in the shape."

She turned with a laugh, and kissed his forehead.

" You dear old solemnity, how seriously you take things.
It was only because I let the lid drop suddenly. I don't
want a new teapot. You never give me a chance of wish-
ing for anything, Stuart. You will force me at last to set
my heart upon the Koh-i-noor, or the crown jewels, in order
to enjoy the new sensation of wishing for something I can-
not get."

And yet she stifled a sigh as she spoke. She did know
very well indeed something she longed for, with, at times,
an intense longing, and which as yet had been wholly de-
nied to her, some symptom that she was to her husband
something more than any other woman, suitable for the
wife of a man of fortune, would have been. Something
to make her feel that if she died the next day he would do
more than mourn her with aflectionate regret, and, in due
time, marry again, and treat his new wife precisely as he
had treated her.

General Farquharson, on the other hand, felt unalloyed
gratification at her remark. Was it not her own admission
that he was doing everything she could possibly expect a
husband to do to promote her happiness ? He turned, well
satisfied, to the subject he had in hand.

" I had an unexpected visit this afternoon," he said.

" From Mr. Hepburn. Alison told me he had called.
I think she felt the house to be in a measure sanctified.
How are my pet collier and his wife ? "

" He did not mention them."

" And you did not ask ? How unfeeling of you, when

1 ;

III

112

Jnmves Hephwm,

ill^'^

you must know that, at this moment, smashed colliers with
prolific wives are the only things in creation in which I feel
the slightest interest."

" Mr. Hepburn came to speak to me about a matter which
has made me feel rather anxious, my love." And then he
told her what had passed. " Have you any remembrance
of the girl ? " he asked.

" Yes, I remember her perfectly at the ball. She was
very pretty, and a most outrageous little flirt. Alison told
me she was the niece of the old housemaid here. She was
a good dancer, too. Randolph and Charlie, and Sir
Maurice, in fact all the men, were dancing and flirting with
her, but there was no special favourite. You may depend
the little monkey is fencing. Her volcanic lover can only
have been wroth at her general flirting ways that night.
If there is any special object of jealousy the feeling must
have risen somewhere else. Probably she does not want
Mr. Hepburn to tind out who it is. I daresay it is one of
the underkeepers. Johnstone had better warn them that if
any one feels his conscience uneasy he should get himself
armour-plated at once.''

" My dear EUinor, it is really no joking matter."

" I know it isn't. But it is so fatiguing to be always
serious. Why, who is that coming up the approach on
horseback ? Oh, it's a groom I believe. Alas ! I forbode a
solemn dinner somewhere ! "

In due time a note was brought to Lady Ellinor. " From
Mrs. Chamberlayne,'' she said, as she looked at it, " Oh,
it's this election ball they are getting up. They want us
to go to them for two nights."

" I suppose, my love, you would like to go to the ball ? "
General Farquharson said, with a most heroic attempt to
look as though the suggestion were not absolutely abhorrent
to him.

want us

Janies Hepburn.

118

Lady Ellinor glanced sharply at him. " There is no
question of liking or disliking," she replied ; '* we must go.
Col. Anson grows steadily worse. T heard so to-day.
There is no question there will be a vacancy in the county
before long. Sir Maurice declares, after the last report, he
began shaking hands with all the colliers' wives ; and that
if the next is what he expects, he shall begin to kiss the
babies. You must go and play at popularity, Stuart, or
you will be hooted and scorned by every conservati 3 in the
county. You'll have to declare such a ball makes you
feel like a gay young ensign again, and dance every
dance. You'll have to wa.lt/ with all the fat, heavy, young
women."

" I'll see the conservative interest at the devil before
I'll do anything of the kind. However, I suppose we
had better go ; and as the Chamberlaynes are so much
nearer the place, it will be very convenient to go from
there ; so you had better write and accept, my love."

He turned to leave the room as he spoke, quite satis-
tied that Lady Ellinor had not the faintest suspicion
what a thing of unendurable tedium to him was a ball
of any sort. And Lady Ellinor, with a heavy sigh, sat
down to her writing table. '

" Is that you, Alison ? " she said, just as she was finish-
ing her note, hearing sounds in the dressing-room.

"Yes, my lady."

"Then you might take this note. We are going to
Danescourt for two nights for the election ball," she added,
as the woman came into the room.

" I am very glad to hear it, my lady. It is quite time
you had a little gaiety. I declare I don't believe your
jewel case has been opened this two months."

If only it did not bore the General so dreadfully."

((

.hi

114

JaiiiAit* Hepburn.

\ I

" I'm sure it will do him good, my lady. He'll enjoy it
when he gets there."

" Oh, will he ? I wish you had only seen him at a ball.
It's a sight to make a statue shed tears of commiseration,
and he thinks all the time he Ik looking so perfectly happy
and contented, that I shall n(>vcr suspect he would rather
lie breaking stones on the highroad. However, he must go
to this one for popularity sake, so I shall be able to enjoy a
good dance, without feeling I have sacriticed him. There,
take the note."

" My lady ought never to have allowed Lady Ellinor to
marry him," was Mrs. Alison's muttered comment as she
made her way down stairs with the note.

The acceptance was matter of much satisfaction to Mrs.
Chamberlayne. The lamp of political ardour is not prone
to burn brightly and steadily, unless plentifully fed with
the oil of self-interest ; and the oil, in this instance, was the
success insured to her special party at the ball, by the fact
of the Farquharsons belonging to it. She would be sure
now, of securing all the men she wanted ; and as they
could not all dance siumltaneously with Lady Ellinor, the
reversionary interest would naturally fall to the share of
her feminine following.

" It is so good of you to come to us," she said, when she
and Lady Ellinor were drinking tea together in the draw-
ing-room, just after the Farquharsons' arrival. We shall
have a delightful party, and the ball is to be a grand suc-
cess. Everyone is doing their utmost. I was quite afraid
General Farquharson would never consent to come."

" Stuart not come 1 My dear Mrs. Chamberlayne, how
little you know him. I convinced him that it was his duty
to appear at the ball. Nor fire nor flood would keep him
away now. He has been walking about, fo** the last two

JiUiies Hfpbnni.

115

(lays, with the nir of a man Alx)Ut to WmA a forlorn hopt;
But how is Col. AiiHon.

•* C)h, worse decidedlv. Pour Mrs, Annoii I it iiiakeH me
«|uite wretched to think of her. And we have been ho
dreadfully anxious, too. We were so afmid he might die
just before the ball, and really then it would have Ihmmi
very difficult to know what to do However, there seems
to be no fear now but that he will last a week or two lon-
ger at least. Shall we go and get ready for dinner ? We
shall not make much change you know ; we shall dress
afterwards. Wo must all look our most maghiticent to-
night. Oh, and who do you think are coming to the ball ?
You will never guess. The Munros ! "

"The Munros," repeated Lady Ellinor, evidently as much
amazed as Mrs. Chamberlayne intended.

" Yes, indeed. Of course, you know, they are strong con-
servatives ; but that is not the sole reason. Mrs. Munro
has a niece, or cousin, or something staying with her, quite
young, and she wants to amuse her. I don't know about
the amusement. The girl cannot speak a word of English.
I think she will find it dreadfully dull. So few men about
here speak French. But come, we must i-eally go up stairs ;
it only wants a quarter of an hour to dinner. We are
dining early to give us plenty of time to adorn afterwards.
You must be very splendid, remember."

If '

116

*
I

,' 1 ■

i ^^

i .

J nine H Hepburn.

ClIAITER IX.
HALL- ROOM INCIDENTS.

THERE was no <|ue8tion about the splendour when, some
hours hiter, l^dy Ellinor Farquharson entered the
hall-rooni, richly but simply dressed, and wearing a few
maf^iiiticent diamond ornaments.

Hir MaurioH Adair came up at once to oti'er her a beauti-
ful bou<|uet, and the delicate sprays of maiden-hair fern
were (juiveiing viKibly as he held it. She glanced from the
Howers to his face, and her manner grew a shade more cool
and distant, though she spoke lightly.

"I hear poor Col. Anson is worse. Have you begun
kissing the babies?"

'* No. I reflected in time that the ardour of friendship
was carrying me too far. I might be suspected of trying
to get up a party on ray own account, with a view to future
contingencies, as Pitcairn must go to the upper house sooner
or later. I have been explaining to him that he must do
that for himself. He is practising. He has a lii.tlo pig up
at the stables, dressed in baby clothes ; he takes it in his
arms and fondles it twice a day with expressions of ardent
endearment. I hear the first attempt was a frightful failure,
b .t he is improving daily. His two married sisters have
been present at one rehearsal, and say he will do in a little.
The music is beginning. Am I to have this dance ?"

" T think not. Duty first. I spy the approach of an im-
portant elector. I thought so," and with a gracious smile
she took the arm of an influential personage in the county
town.

Janii'M lffplni,ni.

117

More Hiid iiiort; lioautiful \jiu\y Kllinor F)ir«|uliHrMoii ;{ri'w
aH the evening wore on, iind the hent of the room and the ex-
ercise of dancing deeptmed the tluMh on her cheek. Moving
about with the eaHy careleKH gnw;e which distinguished all
her movements, and with a bright smile and pleasant word
for every one, high or low, young or old, she was, as Lady
Oastleton observed to her son. Lord Pitcairn, doing popu-
larity enough for the whole country. It would have been
well for her had she caught the sudden look of almost pas-
sionate admiration which came into her husband's eyes as
she passed unexpectedly close to him, sweeping away in a
moment the cold, formal expression habitual to his face, and
rendering it unmistakably the handsomest face in the room.
And she the while was looking carefully the other way, to
avoid the irritation caused to her by his attitude of rigid,
uncomplaining endurance.

Nevertheless she came hastily up to him a short time
afterwards, suddenly leaving Sir Maurice Adair, with whom
she had just been dancing, and putting her hand within
his arm.

" I am tired and thirsty, Stuart. Come with me to the
refreshment room," she said.

" Certainly my love. You are pale, Ellinor. Are you
not feeling well ? I fear yoii are over-fatiguing yourself."

" No, no ; I am quite well. But I have danced rather
persistently. I will sit out the next dance or two."

As they left the ball-room Mr. Chamberlayne seated him-
self on the end of a, vacant bench, close behind his wife's
chair, and leaning over spoke a few words quietly to her.

'* It is too bad of Adair," he said. " These country town
people are such outrageous gossips, he should be more care-
ful. It would never do for a man to interfere ; but couldn't
you Say a word to him ? "

118

JariiHH Hfpbo.rn.

His wife gave her shoulders a little shrug. She was a
woman of the world, with several daughters who were by
no means beautiful , and the circumstances could not fail
to give a certain tinge, however slight, to her sentiments to-
wards a very beautiful woman.

" Certainly not," she replied. " Let her husband look
after his own atfairs. I am not fond of meddling with
other people's business. It strikes me too, she knows what
she is doing. Look how they have just gone off together,
like a loving young couple."

In the refreshment room General Farquharson was devot-
ing himself to his wife with praiseworthy assiduity, sup-
plying her every want, entreating her oot to overdo herself
— doing, in fact, everything he could do save sit down be-
side her on the sofa on which he had placed her, and show
that he could thoroughly enjoy this little interlude of quiet
repose with a happy mingling of husband and lover. At
any rate, however, he remained there very contentedly, and
she seemed little inclined to return to the ball-room. Thev
stayed where they were through several dances.

" I must go back," she said at 'ast, as the music again
struck up.

" Had you not better rest a little longer, Ellinor ? "

"No," she replied, looking down at her card. "This is
a waltz I promised Sir Maurice Adair. It is the last dance
I mean to dance."

" Oh, well, then you must go," he said, looking down at
her with a kindly smile. " Poor ' iair«! I believe he would
blow his brains out if you failed him."

She cowered almost as if he had aimed a blow at her, and
turned very white as she looked up at him with wild, en-
treating eyes. But 1:3 had turned away to put down the
glass he had taken from her hand, and she was '/lerself again

IW:;

Jamvti Hepburn.

119

vas u
re by
it fail

its to-

l look

with

; what

;ether,

devot-
y, sup-
herself
wn be-
i show
if quiet
;r. At
ily, and
Thev

c again

This is
3t dance

lown at
e would

her, and
ivild, en-
own the
3lf again

in a moment, and passed into the ball-room, leaning on his
arm, with just her usual graceful charm of manner.

The waltz was not a very long one. " I have had
enough," she said, after a few turns round the room. " Stop
when you come to a convenient place."

He found that convenient place in a retired corner, and
then stood there with her, talking in low tones ; not much
in his words, but a great deal in the wUd passionate admira-
tion expressed in every feature of his face. She was still
and statuesque, but a hectic flush was deepening on her
cheek. Suddenly she started, as a gentle band was laid on
her arm. Mrs. Munro was beside her.

Mrs. Munro was French by birth, but had married young,
and lived in Scotland ever since. She had little about her
to mark her origin save the extreme grace of a high-bred
French woman. She was an elderly woman, very small, and
very beautiful ; looking even older than she really was, from
her perfectly white hair. Her eyes were fixed on I^dy
EUinor Farquharson's face with a pleading gentle ex-
pression.

" Dear Lady Ellinor Farquharson," she said, " forgive me,
but you are ^ery imprudent. See how those hangings just
behind you are waving about with the draught. It cannot
be safe for you to stand here, when heated with dancing.
Please come and sit down where you will be sheltered from
draught. I am surprised at you, Sir Maurice Adair," and
she spoke with a sudden change to severe gravity of man-
ner. " You must see that Lady Ellinor is in danger. You
should be more careful."

Sir Maurice Adair grew crimson to the roots of his hair.
Without a word Lady Ellinor drew Mrs, Munro's hand
through her arm, and they walked away together.

" Dear Lady Ellinor," she said, as they sat, still side by

■i

" I

120

James Hepbuvn.

side, " You will not be angry 1 I know you so little, perhaps
I was impertinent. But you remind me of my daughter,
my only child, who died when 'she was eighteen years old.
She was not so beautiful as you, but there is a likeness. I
could not bear to see you in danger. Such serious conse-
quences sometimes follow trifles."

" You are very kind. I fear I am rather a thoughtless
woman."

" You are a very lovely one. Every one has been watch-
ing you all the evening. Do you know whose eyes have
almost devoured you with admiration several times ? "

A startled look crossed Lady Ellinor's face.

" No indeed," she said. " Someone who is of use, I hope.
I have been doing popularity with all my might and main."

" Yes," said Mrs. Munro, with emphasis ; " someone
whose admiration is of great importance, General Far-
quharson."

Lady EUinor laughed a hard, little laugh. " My hus-
band ! My dear Mrs. Munro, he has had the air of a martyr
to duty all the evening. His face has worn no expression
save that of a rigid determination not to flinch. I do not
believe he even knows whether or not I have been in the

room.

You are quite wrong, believe me» General Farquharson
is a Scotchman and a soldier, therefore undemonstrative and
almost rigidly self-possessed. But it was all swept away in
a moment once or twice to-night, when his eyes fell sud-
denly upon you. But tell me, who is this coming with my
niece ? Sir Maurice Adair introduced him ; he said he was
nice, and spoke French well. I did not catch his name.
Do you know him ? "

" By sight, yes. It is Mr. Laing. He is a retired lawyer.
He lives in Mossgiel. I believe he is very nice."

James Hephum.

121

rhaps
ghter,
rs old.

8S. I

conse-

rhtless

watch -
3 have

I hope,
main."
araeone
a Far-

y hus-
martyr
)ression
, do not
1 in the

Liharson
ive and
away in
ell sud-
vith my
he was
s name.

lawyer.

" Then I shall hand you over to his care. Mrs, Cham-
berlayne told nie she was going after this dance. Se<% she
is away yonder. I think she is looking for you. Mr, Laing,
I wish to present you to Lady Ellinor Farquharson, who is
going with Mrs. Chamberlayne's party, and whom you will
please to see most carefully wrapped up and placed Siifely
in her carriage. She is very precious. I Vjeliove she has
won over a host of liberal voters to-night, and she takes no
care of herself. Good-night, dear Lady Ellinor. We are
going too. I hope you will not have caught cold."

As Mrs. Munro made her way through the rapidly less-
ening throng toward the entrance, Sir Maurice Adair came
up to her, his manner betraying, in spite of evident effort
at perfect ease, some little embarrassment.

" What have you done with Lady Ellinor Farquharson ? "
he said. " I am sent to tell her the Charaberlayne party
are leaving, and to escort her to the cloak-room."

There was still a shadow of severity in Mrs. Munro's
manner, although she answered lightly, pointing with her
fan to the convenient hangings, now oscillating violently in
the draught from the open door -way —

" You cannot again be trusted with anything so precious
after allowing Lady Ellinor to stand yonder, when heated
with dancing. She has already gone with Mr. Laing to join
Mrs. Chamberlayne."

Very soon afterwards Mr. and Mrs. Munro were driving
homeward alone in their brougham, the rest of their party
following in another carriage. As soon as they were clear
of the town, Mr. Munro turned towards her.

*• That was admirably done of you, Clarie. But it is very
unfortunate.- What can Farquharson mean ? Does he not
see it ? "

" He sees it^ but he doesn't see the danger. He has never

122

JorneH Hfphum.

f r

gone through any experience which would enable him to
understand it. He has a heart, but all the Queen's regula-
tions are piled on top of it. It will rise up some day and
scatter them all to the four winds. I only fear it may be
too late."

. " Did she understand you ? "

" Yes ; and so did Sir Maurice. T am grieved from my
heart for both. Sir Maurice is not a bad man at heart, but
he is carried completely beyond himself, and he is very
fascinating. Bah ! I have no patience with General Far-
quharson. If you had seen his look at her once to-night
when she passed him. He has that in h* n which would
make everything perfectly safe, if he would only give it
play : though I doubt if he knows that himself. He is just
one great manual of military tactics. I believe he puts on
his nightcap with as much care and solemnity as if it was a
cocked hat, and carefully preserves regulation pace when he
is walking from his dressing-room to his bedroom. What
business had he to marry a bright, high-spirited girl like
LadyEllinor?"

" I wonder if she cares for him ? "

" Who can tell 1 They have the character of being an
attached couple. But I know them so little. Ah ! if there
was only a judicious confessor all might be well. But what
can these Protestant clergy do ? They preach and preach,
and sometimes by chance — they say the right thing to some
one. But how can they tell the dangers which beset each
individual ? And if they could they dare not speak. I^
Lady Ellinor had a good confessor, I should go to him at
once, and he would guide and counsel her, without her
knowing that he w?:*s doing it, so that she would be warned
before the danger really carae. Poor, poor Lady Ellinor —
so beautiful, and so alone."

Jftntrs Hf'ithii rv.

I2:{

It was a tolerably long drive from the town to Danes-
court, and Lady Ellinor Farquhar.son drawing her hootl
closely round her face, on the pl^a of being heated, leaned
back in the corner of the carriage, and hardly spoke at all.
Alison, who was suft'ering under the infliction of a severe
cold, had been peremptorily ordered not to sit up, and had
retired, grumbling discontentedly, and declaring she would
not get a wink of sleep for thinking how her lady was to
get those diamonds out of her hair without tearing it out
by the roots in handfuls. She was hard4y to be consoled
by the faithful promise of Mrs. Ohamberlayne's maid, that
she would herself undertake to avert this awful catastrophe.

Lady Ellinor, however, declined the proflered aid, aflSrm-
ing her own perfect capability of grappling with the dia-
monds. She had made no attempt to do so, however, but
was standing still fully dressed before the tire, gazing into
it with an abstracted air and troubled expression, when she
was surprised with a tap at the door, which, before she had
time to speak, was opened a few inches, to let her husband
say—

" May I come in, Ellinor 1 "

" Certainly," she replied. " I am all alone. I would not
let Alison sit up. Her cold was so heavy."

" So I heard, and therefore I came. I was anxious to
speak to you. Were you annoyed by anything during the
ball to-night, my love ! I thought you looked rather pale
and disturbed as we were driving home."

She did not immediately reply ; but a shower of sparkling
flashes suddenly played all over her head, neck, and arm«!.
She caught sight of them herself in a large glass over the
chimney piece, and began hastily to unfasten the tell-tale
diamonds.

" Yes Stuart," she said at last, as she laid the jewels

124

Jatiy'M Hi'phii

/•/^

auicle. I can hardly say I was annoyed, but 1 was not
(|uit<! pleased."

" What was wrong, my .love ? " /

" I did not <|uit<^ like Hir Maurice Adair's manner."

" My dear Ellinor, T am sure he was most devoted ! "

" Yes, rather too much so. Mind, Stuart, I have
nothing to accuse him of. Still I was conscious to-night
tliat he made me feel his admiration rather more than I
approved."

'* Did he say anything '{ "

" Not a word. I should soon have settled that. Sir
Maurice, as you know, is ardent enough in his protestations
of devotion in your presence, out of it, he has always been
most careful never to hint at such a thing. That is one of
tlie reasons I have always liked him. But to-night there
was a something in his manner I did not (juite like. Noth-
ing one could take hold of, yet something one felt."

" Well my love, if you will look so superbly beautiful as
you did to-night, what can you expect 1 "

She raised her somewhat weary, heavy eyes to his face,
with a wistful look, but alas ! she did not meet any such
glance as Mrs. Munro had intercepted — only a quiet, half-
amused smile, which she tried faintly to return.

*' A man should be careful in public, 1 fear others
noticed it, and there were a lot of gossiping people there."

" Let them and their gossip go to the devil. What do I
care ? "

" Still, Stuart, I think, perhaps "

" Perhaps what ? "

" That perhaps," she replied, with some effort, *' it might
be better if he did not come to us quite so often." -

General Farquharson's face grew grave, slightly stern.
" My dear Ellinor," he said, *' are you dealing quite honestly

'•\ : 1

3 Mi

Jaiucs Hrjthn rn.

125

with ine. I mean," he added, notiring the startled ^hiiice
she cant upon him, *' in saying that Adair has ^iven you wo
direct cause for displeasure."

" Perfectly," she replied. " It would Ix; the cruellest
injustice to Sir Maurice to uuike any such accusation against
him."

" Then, my love, [ cannot sanction the least change in
our conduct to Adair. I could not face the possibility of
anything being construed into a want of perfect confidence
in yourself on my part. That Adair admires you a little
more than is safe for his own piece of mind 1 should think
is highly probable. But he must take care of himself. In
the excitement of a ball-room he might perhaps betray his
admiration c shade too clearly ; but T am convinced that
lie is perfectly incapable of ever failing in proper respect to
you. Until you tell me yourself that he has done so, 1
cannot bring myself to act in a way which would seem to
me to imply a possibility of my feeling uneasy about your
own conduct.

" I *^^hink you are making a mistake, Stuart," she said,
faintly.

" No, my Ellinor," he confidently replied, " not where
you are concerned. Adair, remember, is by no means a
a dissipated, profligate character. Few unmarried men of
his age and position bear so good a reputation. Your man-
ner I feel convinced will never let him pass the proper
bounds. I am not bound to constitute myself the guardian
of his peace of mind. If he chooses to singe his wings he
must take the consequences. But I am bound not to give
cause for the very faintest suspicion of any want of confi-
dence in you. And now, my love, you must go to bed as
quickly as you can. You are very pale, my dearest ; and
what a cold hand ! "

126

Jam«n Hcpbitrn.

I' ! i

H 1 )l'

■ '1

! '

: ■.-.!

■
i

,i ;

(i, ■

" I am tired," she said ; and then he bestowed upon her
a gravely affectionate kiss, and left the room.

liJidy Ellinor stood rigidly where he had left her for a few
inoinents. Then she threw herself down upon a couch, and
gave way to a passionate burst of weeping. What could
she do in face of this unshakable confidence '( How reply
to it by telling him her defences were beconiing strained ?
-that she was already conscious, not as yet, of a single
feeling towards Maurice Adair for which she had occasion
to blush, but of a growing perception of the deficiency in
himself- -of an increased longing for something more ar-
dent, more lover-like, than his unvarying, courteous affec-
tion — and of an instinctive, though hardly defined, dread
of Sir Maurice Adair's society ? The worst her conscience
could bring against her was, that she had received, without
any displeasure, that night an amount of admiration which
had attracted attention. But that admission had brought
her a startled sense of pain, and, for the moment, a more
distinct perception of danger than she had ever before ex-
perienced. A feeling akin to remorse had induced her to
seize the opportunity afforded by her husband's unexpected
question, to caution him and guard herself, and in both at-
tempts she had hopelessly failed. Was his action prompted
by implicit confidence, or did it spring from a certain slug-
gishness of feeling, born in some measure of cold indiffer-
ence, a confidence that she would never stoop to culpability
in actual conduct, and indifference respecting anything else 1
That question also arose in her mind for the first time that
nigh*^r, or rather morning ; so it may be, after all, that Mrs.
Munro was not far from the truth when she said that if
there had only been a judicious confessor all might yet be well.

The following evening Mr. Laing strolled into the manse
about eight o'clock.

Janii't* Hephitm.

127

" Hulloa," said the minister. " Are you just out of bed 1 "

"No, I am just out of the train. I stopped at the Sta-
tion Hotel, and breakfasted, lunched, and dined all in one,
just in time to catch the last train. I'm come to smoke a
cigar, so you can shut up your books, and resign yourself
to idleness.

" Very good," and Mr. Hepburn pushed his books aside,
and turned round to the tire. Mr. Laing lighted his cigar,
and drew up an arm chair. But he seemed to be in an
unusually taciturn humour. Mr. Hepburn glanced keenly
at him once or twice, then he quietly remarked,

" Dissipation doesn't seem to agree with you, Laing."

" The ball last night didn't agree with me, if you like.
But the dissipation had nothing to do with it.''

" What then 1 "

Mr. Laing did not immediately reply. Then, almost
petulantly, he threw away his half smoked cigar, and lean-
ing back in his chair, thrust his hands with a sort of sav-
age gesture deep into his pockets.

" Hang it all," he said. " I'm really cut up about that
poor girl." "

"WhatgirU"

" Lady EUinor Farquharson."

" What of her?" asked the minister, in a startled tone.

'• Everything. I've thought of nothing else since last
night. I don't think I ever saw her look so lovely. Her
dress was perfect, and among that mob of overdressed
women she looked simply superb."

'• Oh, oh ! So it's you who are suffering from singed
wings, is it ? " replied the minister, a trifle sardonically.

" I wish that was all. There would be no great harm
done then. It's a much more dangerous butterfly than I
am that is singeing wings, body and all, and not only
singeing, growing red hot."

I * '

128

Jam/'H Hepbur^i.

f .

"Hir Maurice Adair 1"

" Exactly. You know thou ? "

" I don't know, liut I have seen enough to nmko me
very uneasy."

" It WHS unniisttikable last night. He w»i,k almost off
his head. She kept him well in check, for I was watching
them closely. 1 think she felt it. Once or twice I thought
she was half frightened. Unfortunately other people saw
it, too. I heard a good many remarks."

" And General Farquharson 1 "

" Old blockhead. He was only wondering all the time
T believe, how soon he might get away to his bed. Mrs.
Munro is an angel. She struck in just in time to prevent
him, I believe, from losing his head altogether, and then
handed her over to me."

•' That was most angelic, doubtless."

" Don't be sarcastic, Hepburn. It's all your jealousy.
It just kept Sir Maurice off."

" Were any Mossgiel peop.3 there besides yourself ? "

" Very few, fortunately, and also fortunately most of
them had to leave early, some hitch about trains I believe.
But, seriously, I am afraid there will be some catastrophe
there. General Farquharson must be either a great fool or
very indifferent."

" The latter he certainly is not," replied Mr. Hepburn
slowly, reviewing in his mind all the incidents of his first
visit to Strathellon. " He is deeply attached to Lady Elli-
nor. But I think he does not in the least understand the
case, and would think it an insult to her to allow the
thought of any danger to cross his mind."

" In fact he is blind, and every one else must pretend to
be so ; and so the poor girl must be left to drift away
unaided."

Jnuien Hephuni.

I -if)

" My dear fellow that Ih the lieauty of social distiiictioiiH.
Here are you and I aud MrH. Twjedie, all inoHt anxiouH
alK)Ut her, and ready to make any etf'ort on her l)ehalf ; and
if sho was the wife of a MoHsgiel tradeHninn we sliouhl soon
be doing something. But as she happens to be Lady Kllinor
Farquharson, we are obliged to stand aside and only sigh
and shake our heads, and say it is very sad."

" I shouldn't have thought you would have shied so
quickly at social distinctions, Hepburn."

" No more I do. It's the social distinctions shy at me.
What can I do ? If Lady Ellinor would give me a chance,
do you think I would hesitate to warn her, even though it
might shut me for ever out of the house 1 But I should
only do harm rather than good by any attempt to force an
opportunity ; and it is not to deliver a faithful message, I
am anxious, but to put her on her guard. Depend upon it,
if the chance should be given to me to warn her, without doing
more harm than good, I will not be found wanting."

Mr. Laing reflected in silence for a few minutes. Then
he heaved a deep sigh, and as he turned to light another
cigar, remarked —

" You've lighted upon some old subjects on which to try
your hand since you came. How is Robert Blackwood ?"

" Quite well now, I think. I suspect he was assiduous in
his attentions to his damaged face. Biding at home doesn't
suit him."

" It has always struck me, Hepburn," said Mr. Laing,
closely watching the minister as he spoke, " that it was a
very extraordinary thing that you should have knocked him
down in the dark in that way, and avoided running over
him."

" Whether it is extraordinary or not," replied Mr. Hep-
burn calmly, " it is extremely fortunate. The pony gave

JanuH Ife/)hurn.

uucli a Mpring that, I Huspect, if the wheel had come in con-
tact with such a big fellow as that, the cart would have
turned over, and there would have been a general smash."

" In which ciise it is just possible he might have got the
credit of having tried to shoot you."

''Just what I was thinking at the moment — at least, that
he might have been credited with having intended to do so.
Unless r had broken my neck, I could have sworn the pistol
did not go off until after he was knocked down."

*' You would be a tough subject for cross-examining I
should say. But I have thought a great deal over that
matter since you spoke to me about it. I have in fact done
little else than rake among my mental rubbish for any linger-
ing shreds of gossip which might point in the direction of
some possible dreaded rival, but without result. Some-
times, Hepburn, I am almost inclined to think you are
wrong, and that the girl has nothing to do with it. You'll
hardly guess in what direction my thoughts do turn
occasionally."

" Certainly not, if the girl is out of it.''

" Entirely. What say you to our worthy elder, Cruik-
shanks 1 "

Mr. Hepburn shook his head. "I can't catch your clue,"
he said.

'* I haven't one. It is nothing n)eriting the name of clue.
But T do honestly believe Cruikshanks has something to do
with the grocer's business of Ronald and Bobson in Porter's
Wynd. I've never been able to unearth Ronald and Rob-
son, and it sounds uncommonly like a fancy title. I have
seen the Blackwoods hanging about there, not exactly as if
they were customers ; and if a great deal of tea, tobacco,
and spirits are not sold there which never paid the revenue
a farthing, I'm greatly mistaken. They are as cunning as

Jiniit*H Ilfphm'v.

131

foxes. If you or 1 went there wo should get only ordinary
goods. But I have got hold of both tea and tobacco from
them of a (juality p.ever sold at the price, if it had paid law
ful duty."

•* Well, but what has that to do with Blackwood ? " said
the luinis^^er, a little impatiently. The conversation was
taking a most distasteful turn. He was by no means satis
tied himself about the shop in question ; and the fact, in
connection with Mr. Cruikshanks' eldership, was a perpetual
fret and worry to him.

" A good deal, possibly. The Black woods are all good
seamen, and do, T suspect, a great deal of the smuggling
business. In that case, a quarrel with Cruikshanks would
be an extremely probable result. Only I can't see any rea-
son for the time and place of your meeting."

'' No, you are wrong. The girl is at the bottom of the
business, I am certain, whether with or without cause I can-
not make out. T can't say you've been a very cheering com-
panion to-night, Laing," he added a little wearily. • " Lady
Ellinor — Blackwood — Cruickshj-nks — about as unsatisfac-
tory subjects for ministerial reflection as a man could well
have brought before him."

" There are more of the same sort behind," replied Mr.
Laing, grimly. "You'll have other subjects to occupy your
attention before long than the defalcations of individual
sheep. You'll have a great hymnal row on your hands
shortly, or I'm much mistaken."

" Ah ! I've heard some nmtterings about that storui
already."

" It has been hanging over us for a long while. Forsyth
(jontrived to stave it oft' for a time. I really believe, dread
of it had nearly as much to do with his resignation, as his
health. I suspect it'll not be long now before it comes on.
Which side do you take ? "

Vi'l

Jti iin',s Hi'jiim rti.

" I'll toll vou that when the time comes. And look vou
here, L^iiug, it is hi;";!! time that you, who were aping juven-
ility, anfl dancing all last night, should be in bed. If you
stop here much longer, I don't believe there will be a single
disagreeable subject in the whole range of my experience
you won't have contrived to trot out for inspection."

" Good-night, then, I'll not take the trouble, another time,
to come and amuse your solitude, after I've been to a ball."

" Pray don't, for I shall take good care to be out."

famen

Hfd

)iii'n.

13^

Chapter X.

A SOFT-SPOKEN ELDER.

MRS. WATSON'S serious misgivings respecting Mr.
Hepburn, planted in the congenial soil of her sense
of not having been treated with the consideration due to
her social position, had thriven amazingly, aiMl thrown out
feelers in all directions, to clutch at cognate matter. It
was only due to Mr. Watson's position, as head of the fac-
tory, that any suspicious circumstance in reference to any
family connected therewith should be at once communicated
to him ; whereas, but for her watchfulness, this suspicious
episode of the Blackwood tribe would have remained
wholly unknown to him. The presence of some friends on
the evening of the day she had visited the Blackwoods
prevented her from laying the facts then and there before
him, and during the next twenty-four hours she gathered,
or excogitated, much which she was pleased to dignify with
the term of indirect testimony. The next evening she laid
the matter fully before her husband. Mr. Watson at the
first moment seemed inclined to fail in grasping its full
itnpoHance ; but then he was not suffering from personal
pique, and, moreover, had far less leisure time than fell to
the share of his wife to devote to any such reflections. To
tell the truth, while she was recounting her tale of gloomy
portent, his thoughts more than once wandered away to a
rather perplexing question respecting the relative value and
cost of some suggested improvements in machinery, about
which the directors of his company had asked for his
opinion ; so that, sad to say, when the tale was told, he
(9)

134

JameH Hephurn.

ill

found his comprehension of the matter somewhat hazy, and
felt that there was safety for him only in vague generalities.

" These Blackwoods have always been a quf^stionable lot."

" All the more reason th^t you should have been in3tt\ntly
informed of anything respecting them."

" Oh, I don't know. None of the sons are in the factory.
As long as Blackwood keeps himself sober, I don't think I
should trouble myself about the others."

" You ought to have been told," Mrs. Watson replied
emphatically, " still, I confess I am more concerned about
this acquaintance with Lady Ellinor Farquharson. I con-
sider it most unfortunate."

In those secret recesses of the mind, in which men store
up the sentiments and opinions which they do not invari-
ably intrust to even the authorized shares of their whole
existence, Mr. Watson was probably conscious that an ac-
quaintance with Lady EUinor Farquharson was not a cir-
cumstance to which any man could be expected to hold the
term " unfortunate " justly applicable ; but he did not say
80. He fell back on the safe suggestion.

" I suppose he met her at Mrs, Tweedie's ? "

" He did nothing of the kind," replied Mrs. Watson,
with much emphasis. " I know that for a certainty."

" Well, I suppose he met her somewhere else."

" Met her ; yes, I suppose so." Then Mrs. Watson laid
down the piece of fancy work with which she had been
trifling, and leaning back in her chair, folded her arms with
the air of a person about to deliver son^e most tremendous
statement.

"Just remember, William, if you please, that within
forty-eight hours of the time when Mrs. Haigg heard him
affirm he had never seen Lady Ellinor, save at a distance,
the was visiting Thompson, admittedly by his request.

Jarties Hepburn.

and
ities.

lot."
t\ntly

ctory.
link 1

•eplied
about
Icon-

n store
invari-
r whole
; an ac-
t a cir-
lold the
not say

''atson,

within

Urd him

Idistance,

request.

There is some mystery in all this, and you know mystery
always presupposes guilt."

" Oh, nonsense, my dear, you go too far. It doesn't fol-
low that a thing is a mystery because you do not happen to
know exactly how it came about."

" I beg your pardon," replied Mrs. Watson, w^ith some
asperity. " There is a mystery. Not only must he have
been telling a falsehood when he denied the acquaintance,
but how could it have come about 1 No one about here
could have introduced him save Mrs. Tweedie. She, I
know, did not. How did they make acquaintance ? Unless
you can explain that fact you must allow there is something
very suspicious about the whole transaction."

" Why, goo' Lord, my dear ? " exclaimed Mr. Watson,
beginning dimly to discern the direction of his wife's sus-
picions, " You don't mean to say you suppose it's a clan-
destine flirtation between Lady Ellinor Farquharson and
Hepburn ? "

"I don't suppose anything. I have told you what I
know. I am quite ce' tain that woman is capable, of any
sort of coquetry." ^

Lady Ellinor had once smiled on Mr. Watson. His wife
did not know that ; neither, in truth, did Lady Ellinor her-
self, for he had merely, at a local flower show, moved a
bench out of her way, which service she had acknowledged
with the graceful couitesy that never failed her. Mr.
Watson, however, had a vivid remembrance of the incident,
and he muttered something which his wife did not catch.

" What did you say ? " she asked.

" Oh, nothing. I am sick of all this gossip and chatter.
Why on earth must you all be for ever running down Lady
Ellinor?"

" I have never heard any one run her down," replied Mrs.

> i

136

James Hepburn.

Watson, with a certain intonation not unknown to her
husband, who forthwith took up the paper and began to
read.

It so chanced that the very next day Mr. Watson heard
the whole story of the accident to Lady Ellinor Farquhar-
son's pony carriage, and the minister's timely intervention,
and subsequent visit to Strathellon He was perfectly
satisfied that he was the possessor of a most excellent wife,
but still there were moments when he was conscious that
the atmosphere of authority which surrounded him at the
factory did not accompany him to his home, where occa-
sionally, a little more deference to his opinions would have
been soothing to his feelings. He was not, therefore, able
^ rise superior to a little malicious satisfaction at finding
himself in a position to turn the seamy side of his wife's
hypotheses outward.

" A very pretty mare's nest you've found," he said, hav-
ing concluded his recital. " Hepburn never told any false-
hood, and there is no mystery at all. I do hope, my dear,
you'll think of what I said, and remember another time
that it does not necessarily follow a thing is a mystery be-
cause you chance not to know exactly how it came about.
There is a great deal too much of that sort of manufactur-
ing of mysteries in the town," he continued, feeling himself
kindling into eloquence, under the influence of a rare chance
of being didactic. " It does a heap of mischief sometimes,
I can tell you."

Mrs. Watson made x>.o reply. For once she was worsted
for the moment. Theve was no falsehood, no clandestine
acquaintance. Her personal annoyance had run away with
her judgment, and urged her into being too explicit in her
charges. Angry mortification kept her silent ; but could
her husband have seen the workings of her mind he would

Jartiea Hepburn.

187

her
n to

leard
ahar-
ition,
[ectly
wife,

that
it the

occa-
[ have
I, able
inding
\ wife's

d, hav-

y false-
dear,
tiifte

lery be-
about,
lactur-
himself
chance
letimes,

worsted
destine
ay with
t in her
it could
e would

probably have become aware that the assumption of a
reprovingly-instructive tone is apt to be quite as dangerous
as the manufacture of mysteries. Mr. Hepburn was hence-
forth associated in Mrs. Watson's mind with a mortifying
fiasco, in respect of that shrewdness and sagacity on which
she especially prided herself. Her sentiments towards the
minister became from that moment distinctly hostile,
although to herself they only assumed the character of
gravely increased misgivings.

For all that much is both spoken and written upon the
subject of personal affinities, sufficient allowance is hardly
made, in the moral sphere, for the law of attraction. Let
any two persons, within a reasonable distance, possess a
strongly-defined common sentiment on any subject, and
they will very shortly arrive at an understanding. There
was another person in Mossgiel who strongly shared Mrs.
Watson's grave misgivings, incited thereunto by a similar,
if not exactly identical, sentiment. Mr. CruiKshanks had,
from the first, strongly opposed Mr. Hepburn's election.
Seeking reasons for a dislike, rather than disliking him for
a reason, he had alleged that his previous ministrations in
Mossgiel had been strongly suggestive of Rationalistic
theories, and a loose vague tone of theology. Since the
appointment he had felt that his previous sentiments had
been a kind of foreboding. He never telt quite comfortable
in the minister's presence. There was something excess-
ively disagreeable, he averred, in the expression of his face ;
and with that keen piercing glance fixed upon him, he had
never felt himself able, without a sense of painful eflfort, to
assume at meetings of the kirk session that tone of lofty,
austere piety in which he delighted. No metaphorical
charm against the evil eye, which he could hang around the
neck of his piety, would give it courage to meet without

Ill

138

James Hepburn.

; i

>■ ii'

-: m

shrinking that steady, searching grey eye, which, to his
infinite annoyance, peemed to have no terrors for some far
less eminently pious members of the session than himself.

Mr. Cruickshank's shop was a large and importint one,
and was arranged with much skill and judgment. The post
office business was carried on at a counter on one side of
the entrance, the ordinary stationery business at an opposite
counter. Further back, the shop widened into a good-sized
room, comfortably carpeted, with well-filled book-shelves all
round it, and various tables standing about with the newest
illustrated works laid out upon them for inspection. Mr.
Cruickshanks himself was always at hand, ready to show a
new book or discuss the last piece of news, or if his tact
told him ho was not wanted, to retire to a small gbss pen
in the background, where he wrote letters and attended to
business in general ; invariably suave, smiling, and defer •
ential in manner, soft in speech, and noiseless in movement.
Needless to say that a vast amount of information was both
given and received within the precincts of Mr. Cruick-
shanks' domains.

It chanced one day, soon after Mr-' Watson's great dis-
aster, that she turned into Mr. Cruiksnanks' shop in search
of some small requirement, and espying a group in the inner
room, among which, at the first moment, she recognized
only Mrs. Tweedie and Mr. Laing, she advanced toward
them with a cordial air. He who has ever chanced to see a
dog rush to meet his master with frantic manifestations of
exuberant joy, and then discover that he was approaching a
stranger, can exactly picture to himself the sudden change
which passed upon Mrs. "Watson. The remaining constitu-
ents of the group were Lady EUinor Farquharson and Mr.
Hepburn. Mr Laing afterwards declared that her very
eyelashes grew vquite stiff and rigid, as she passed with g-

1 J

dailies Hcpbimi.

139

to his
ne far
self.
it one,
ic post
side of
pposite
)d-sized
lives all
newest
1. Mr.
, show a
his tact
;bss pen
Bnded to
id defer
pvement.
was both
Cruiok-

jreat dis-
in search
he inner
jcognized
toward
1 to see a
ations of
caching a
>n change
constitu-
and Mr.
her very
,ed with ^

distant salutation, and took refuge among the books on a
neighbouring table, where Mr. Cruickshanks, noticing every-
thing from his observatory, at once came to the rescue,
asking, in his most dulcet tones, if Mrs Watson required
anything ?

" Oh, no ! only a little note book, which your people can
find for me presently ; and, for the moment, to see if you
have anything new which is very charming."

" I have a delightful little publication somewhere which
I am sure you will like. Where is it ? I saw a copy lying
about this morning. Eh, what is it ? " he added, as a shop-
man came up with an open letter in his hand, and said
something in a low tone.

" Excuse me one moment," Mr. Cruickshanks said to Mrs.
Watson, "I will bring you that book directly." And he
walked away with his subordinate, leaving her to such un-
molested occupation of her eyes and ears as might please her.
Lady Ellinor and Mrs. Tweedie were both seated at the
table, looking over a new illustrated work. Mr. Laing was
standing behind Mrs. Tweedie, Mr. Hepburn leaning against
the table beside Lady Ellinor.

" I don't like it," Lady Ellinor was saying. " I am sure
the drawing is not correct, and it is sketchy and coarse in
execution." ,

"Rough," said Mr. Hepburn, " if you like, but not coarse,
and it is only meant for a sketch. What would you have ?
The sentimental Medoras and Gulnares of ~ixty years ago ?
It is more correct in drawing than they used to be, at any
rate. I remenlbei, when I was a little boy, there were lots
of those old books about, and I used to wonder often, if one
of these monstrosities could have taken out her eye and
tried to swallow it, how much she could have managed to
squeeze into her mouth at once,"

140

Jainen Hepbium.

!• i!

■ ',

ti J.

" What a horrid little boy you must have been," said
Lady Ellinor, laughing.

" I daresay I was, but, at any rate, I had an eye for pro-
portion. I never could tolerate conventional art. I was
never trimmed up mentally when I was growing, like the
hedges in an old-fashioned garden. I suppose that's the
reason."

" No," replied Lady Ellinor ; " you were allowed to grow
as you liked, and straggle about everywhere to trip every
one up with rude realism. Mrs. Tweedie, I must really go.
Mr. Hepburn, would you kindly tell them to put this book
into the carriage for me. I must really have that stalwart
shepherdess, that I may remember the lesson in high art she
has secured for me."

She smiled upon him as she spoke ; and the ever ready
Mr. Cruickshanks, appearing just at the right moment, laid
down the volume he was bringing for Mrs. Watson, and
with his blandest deference took the book from the min-
ister's hand and delivered it over to an attendant to be put
up, while he himself attended Lady Ellinor to the door with
an air of the profoundest respect. Then he returned to Mrs.
Watson,

" Our minister is getting quite into high society, is he
not 'i " he remarked. " It is something quite new for Lady
Ellinor Farquharson to show herself so much in Mossgiel."

" And something as undesirable as new, at least for Mr.
Hepburn I should say. It seems to me that a minister is
the last man who should push himself into the society of
people of rank and position who are in no way connected
with his congregation."

Mr. Cruickshanks made a sort of slight deprecatory r
tion with hands and shoulders. " You are always an out-
spoken woman, Mrs. Watson. It often falls to you to put

JauuM Htpbarih,

141

distinctly into words, for the first time, what a great many
people are thinking."

" Yes, I always say what I think. And I am quite sure
you agree with me."

Mr. Cruickshanks looked down, and began turning round
one of the books lying on the table. " You know I was
opposed to Mr. Hepburn's election from the ^rst," he said
at length. " I have endeavoured since to look at the sub-
ject as impartially as possible ; but I cannot say my regret
that we did not secure Mr. Fraser has in any way decreased."

It was very soothing to Mrs. Watson's internal fret and
annoyance to find herself thus in communication with a
kindred spirit. She began to expand into a highly confi-
dential mood.

" You have, of course, heard the account of the beginning
of this acquaintance with Lady EUinor Farquharson, and of
the accident to Eobert Blackwood ? "

"Of course."

" Well, now, tell me, as between friends you know, what
do you think of the story ? "

" Of which ? " said Mr. Cruickshanks, with a honied
smile. " There are two stories, you see." '

"Of both."

" Of the first, then, I can only say that from all the cir-
cumstances I am inclined to think the actual occurrences
must have been much as they were described. But then,
you know, occurrences are the results of causes. I think,
in the present case, we are much in the dark respecting
causes."

" True, very true ; you put it admirably." Mrs. Watsop
began really to regret that Mr. Cruickshanks so indisputably
kept a shop. She would have liked to ask him to dinner,
" And the other story," she said.

142

JaiiuiH Hephiirn.

„■.!

I I

i I

^i' 1

" There, again, I am at fault. If I am told that a man
walking along a quiet road, on a not exceptionally dark
night, has been knocked down ))y another man, driving a
very quiet iiorse, I can only reply — someone must be much
to blame."

" Ah," said Mrs. Watson. She began to feel that her
thoughts were being put into shape for her. " But who 1 "

" There I can but balance facts against one another.
Robert Blackwood is a quick, intelligent fellow, and not, as
far as I am aware, at all inclined to his father's bad habits.
Does he seem to you, Mrs. Watson, a very likely man to
stand in the middle of the road and wait to be run over ? "

" Most unlikely."

" Then, again, he was treated with a very remarkable
amount of care and attention, almost as though some atone-
ment for an injury was felt to be due. And there seems
marked disinclination, on both sides, to give any informa-
tion about the matter."

"That is quite true," replied Mrs. Watson. "Still, I
don't see exactly what to think."

" I think I see what to wish," said Mr. Cruickshanks ;
"and that is when Mr. Hepburn goes out to dinner he
would let someone else drive him home."

Mrs. Watson was so much startled that she dropped the
book she was holding and exclaimed — " Good gracious ! I
never thought of such a thing ! "

" Pray do not say that I first suggested it then. We are
of course speaking confidentially, and it is mere suspicion.
Still, I cannot help seeing how the idea explains everything
that seems most unaccountable. Few people havfe, I sus-
pect, defined their feelings to themselves clearly, but I am \
convinced that there is a very uneasy sensation abroad. In
my opinion, it has arisen at a peculiarly unfortunate time."

1 ■' , 1 '^

Ik'' '

Jdiiics H('itlnirn.

14.')

" How so ? "

•• Did you observe whftt book it was you had taken up,
and dropped a moment since ? " And ho placed in her hand
again the authorized Free Church Hymnal. " The question
of the introduction of that book is coming upon us. 1 think
it peculiarly unfortun.ate that just at such a time the minds
of the congregation should be uneasy about their minister."

" Is he going to»try and force it upon us ?"

Again Mr. Cruickshanks gave his little meaning shrug.
" I am in no position to say. On all these subjects the
trumpet gives a most uncertain sound. Of course no formal
proposition on the subject has yet been put forward ; but,
as you know, among a certain class, chiefly I think the
younger members of the congregation, thero is a strong wish
for the introduction of the book, and I confess I have tried
to elicit some direct expression of opinion on the point, but
in vain. A few platitudes about forbearance, and consider-
ation for others were all I could draw out. This may be
Christian charity, but I must allow, to nie, it seems danger-
ously like a tendency to swim with the stream."

" It's abominable ! " exclaimed Mrs. Watson. "When
we are threatened with such a dangerous innovation we
want a minister who will speak out boldly. Come in this
evening and we will talk the matter over with Mr. Watson.
He hates the idea of the hymn book. A well organized
opposition should be got up at once."

" Not too fa'it, my dear madam. We must be wary, or
we may only Drecipitate matters. It would not do to
organize any opposition against a scheme which has never
been put forward. We must abide our time, and only be
prepared to act vigorously when the occasion arises."

At this point in the discussion Mr. Cruickshanks' atten-
tion %o some matter of business was claimed, and Mrs,

144

Jdnu'M Hiphurn.

Watson went her way, provided with much fresh matter
for reflection. She had not hitherto been conscious of pos-
sessing very decided opinions lierself on either side of the
great hymn book question. But now that it appeared that
Mr. Hepburn was not apparently disposed to regard it ag
one of extreme importance, there seemed to be at least a
strong presumption in favour of holding it to be a point of
grave moment. Any opinion held by a man round whom
such sinster appearances were clustering must necessarily
be of doubtfu] value ; and she at once turned her attention
to such preparations as she deemed desirable for, as Mr.
Cruickshanks put it, acting vigorously when the occasion
arose.

Thus, with a strong party for and a strong party against,
it would not have needed as shrewd an observer as Mr.
Laing to predict, that for a minister who would not throw
his weight heavily on either side there were troubled waters
ahead.

I , ,

J times Hcithurn.

145

Chapter XI.

A DEPUTATION.

THESE troubled waters, liowever, were not immediately
ahead, and for a while all the perplexities which speci-
ally vexed James Hepburn's spirit seemed inclined to lay
themselves down and slumber peacefully.

Sir Maurice Adair's sensations, when he found himself
smoking a cigar out of his bedroom window in the early
dawn of the morning after the ball, were not of an enviable
nature. He was no seliish profligate, and it w h not with-
out many struggles, and much self-reproach, that he was
yielding to his infatuated passion for Lady Ellinor Far-
quharson ; and above all other things, the thing he would
have wished most carefully to avoid would have been any
such action as should tend to render her the object of the
tattle and gossip of a country town. Yet that very thing
he was fully conscious he had done. Mrs. Munro's action
alone had been sufficient to proclaim the fact, without
several small shafts hurled at him by different acquaintances,
in the midst of the struggle for hats and coats as the ball
broke up.

It is not only the devil who interferes opportunely. A
man's guardian angel will sometimes do as much for him.
When, about noon. Sir Maurice awoke from a troubled
sleep, and rang his bell, among the letters which his servant
brought to him was one from an old friend, ui'ging him to
join a large party in the ountry in the south of England,
where the prospects for t'^e hunting season were unusually

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good, and demanding an immediate reply. "The very
thing," he murmured to himself, as he glanced over it.
" Nothing could be better." If he left the neighbourhood
at once, for some time, all scandal would soon die out. So,
under pressure of his genuine remorse, the invitation was
at once accepted, and he started for England without even
seeing Lady Ellinor again.

Robert Blackwood, also, was ere long safely f far for the
time, and without suspicion of any nefarious project. He
was a practised seaman, and came to the manse one morning
with less of thunder about his appearance than the minister
had ever seen, to say that he had undertaken to go with a
cousin, who owned and sailed a small trading vessel, for a
cruise, as the boat was short of hands, and that he should
be absent for some weeks ; an intimation which aroused in
Mr. Hepburn's mind a strong inclination to try and find
out if any of the out door establishment of Strathellon had
lately left, or were temporarily absent ? With Sir Maurice
Adair and Robert Blackwood out of the way, neither Lady
Ellinor nor Mary Warrender were very grave sources of
anxiety.

Naturally the scandal of the county ball came flying to
Mossgiel on the wings of the wind. But the report of Sir
Maurice Adair's almost immediate departure was a blast
which swept it away to perish in the wilderness, for Lady
Ellinor Farquharson looked neither pale nor pensive. She
had a large party in the house at Strathellon, and was as
lively and animated in appearance as anyone couid wish.

It was not for very long, however, that Mr. Hepburn was
left to work out his conception of ministerial duty undis-
turbed by sounds of the breakers, which were surely if not
immediately ahead. The would-be disturbers of the peace
of the church, in the matter of the hymnal, had a very con-

James Mejybn'n}.

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siderable number of side issues in their favour. There was
a precentor, who was a very fair musician, and did not
greatly relish the honour of being sole leader of a congrega-
tion who sang with much zeal, but with a somewhat liberal
estimate of the extent to which individual preferences might
be indulged in psalmody. There w^ere sundry young men
and women in the congregation with good voices, who
clearly discerned behind the hymnal a choir, in which these
voices might be heard with personal pleasure, and congrega-
tional advantage ; and there were, doubtless, a patient
suffering few, who recognised in the hymnal and choir their
only hope of the silencing of certain ear-piercing sounds,
whieu weekly filled their souls with dismay. Mr. Hepburn
knew it all, and knew what must come. Nor was he unob-
servant of sundry hints meant to suggest to him the desira-
bility of his taking the initiative in the matter. But he
held his peace, and bided his time.

One day he chanced to meet Mr. Laing, who greeted him
with a grimly sardonic countenance, and the words —

" You are in for it now, my dear fellow."

" In for what ? "

" A deputation. You are to be interviewed on the sub-
ject of the hymnal."

",Who form the deputation ? "

" Watson, Cruickshanks, and myself."

" Watsou and Cruickshanks do not want to see the hym-
nal introduced."

" That is just why they are coming to talk to you about
it. It is not likely the actual question will be raised im-
mediately, but it is drawing nearer. The precentor is at
work, and has been urging Wylie and his wife to take the
matter in hand. They labour under the delusion that they
are musical, and are flattered by being put prominently

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forward in business. They are trying to get up an agita-
tion on the subject, so the orthodox party, seeing that the
enemy are astir, think that it is time for them also to be on
the alert ; and they mean to try and take the wind out of
their sails by making the first bid for your vote."

*• And what in the world are they bringing you with them
for, Laing ? you, who have not too ounces of orthodoxy in
your whole composition."

" That is just what I cannot quite make out myself." I
think it must be to give a sort of whole congregation tone
to the deputation ; to prevent it appearing to be a strongly
one-sided movement. At anyrate we're coming. What
shall you say ? " .

" That depends on what is said to me. When are you
coming 1 "

" That isn't quite settled. It is not a formal deputation,
you know ; it is a sort of irregular proceeding, just to talk
the matter over in a friendly way. There will be a stiff
breeze when the question really comes forward."

" I know there will, and I heartily wish they had let it'
alone for another year. I would fain have been somewhat
firmer in the saddle before any disturbance of this sort came
in my way."

He went on his way with, for the first time, a half sigh
for his lost rural solitude. This was not the sort of oppor-
tunity for increased activity which he had had in view when
he accp' ^ted the call of the Mossgiel congregation. To do
the genuine work of the church, to strive unweariedly to
lift all classes to a higher nobler conception of the Christian
life, this had been the kind of labour to which ' j was pre-
pared to devote himself heart and soul. But to interpose *
between the dogs of war, and get sharply bitten on both
sides for his pains, was the immediate prospect before him.

Jfinies Heplnirn.

149

And when he had thus sacrificed himself, would any one be
in any way the gainer ? He shook his head impatiently
over it, with only the slight satisfaction of feeling that at
least his own course was perfectly clear.

The worthy Mr. Cruickshanks would fain have been clear
of that deputation ; but he could hardly refuse to accept a
leading place in a movement which he had himself mainly
contributed to set on foot, He did not like the minister,
but he liked still less Robert Blackwood's openly avowed
admiration for him ; neither did he like Mr. Laing, although
his attitude towards him was less pronounced than it would
probably have been had he been a^^are of his underhand
experiments on the quality of Messrs. Ronald and Robson's
tea. He only felt towards him such sentiments as caused
him to find much satisfaction in speaking of him as a lawyer
of the sharp attorney class. Thus, though fully conscious
that his personal character entitled him to a prominent
place in any religious movement, he waived his just claim,
and left Mr. Watson to take the lead.

" I entirely deprecate the introduction of the book," he
said, " but I should prefer not to take a specially prominent
part in the question. The world is not too ready to give
one credit for disinterestedness, and, as Mr. Calderwood is
agent here for the sale of the hymn book, my motives might
be open to misconstruction."

It was therefore from Mr. Watson that the minister
shortly after received a note to ask if it would be con-
venient for him to receive Messrs. Laing, Cruickshanks, and
himself, on a certain evening, for the purpose of a little
friendly chat over some matters of business 1 And it was
Mr. Watson who headed the deputation, when it made its
entrance, with much solemnity, into Mr. Hepburn's study.

" This is not exactly a formal business interview, you
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know, Mr. Hepburn," Mr. Watson began. "The fact is,
simply, we see clearly that there is a party amongst us which
meanb, sooner or later, to agitate for the introduction of
hymns into public worship. Therefore, we think it well to
take a little friendly counsel with you on the subject before
it is forced upon our attention as a congregation."

'' Do you think there is much use in discussing these
matters, Mr. Watson, before they are ripe for settlement?
It often seems to me that by so doing we heat our tem-
pers, and only end in attaching more importance to ques-
tions than they intrinsically deserve, through bringing
excited personal feeling to bear upon them."

" You don't regard the hymnal question, then, as one of
grave importance ? " said Mr. Laing, with most praiseworthy
gravity. A curious flash of expression passed over the
minister's face, but ere he had time to reply, Mr. Watson
broke in, irritably —

"I wish you wouldn't use that word 'hymnal.' It's a
new fangled. Papistical sort of word. Why can't you say
hymn book ? "

" My dear fellow, it isn't the Pope — it's the telegraph
that is to blame. We condense in these days. Hymnal is
one word, hymn book two, don't you see ? It's the force of
habit."

" But we havn't heard Mr. Hepburn's answer to the
question," put in the suave tones of Mr. Cruickshanks.

" The question does not admit of a general answer, Mr.
Cruickshanks. The importance of it depends, in each par-
ticular case where it comes under consideration, upon local
circumstances. If it were a question of vital principle — "

" Do you not then consider it one," interrupted Mr.
Cruickshanks.

" Question for question. Do you ? "

James Hepburn.

151

"I confess I am inclined to take that view."

" Then you are at issue with the general feeling of our
church, as embodied in the decision of the Assembly. By
sanctioning the use of the hymn book in any congregation
where a majority are in favour of it, the Assembly has
stamped the ((uestion as, in its judgment, one of mere
expediency. If you hold that our Church has thus pro-
nounced a question of vital principle to be one of expedi-
ency, I can't see on what theory you can remain conscien-
tiously a member of it."

Mr. Cruickshanks became even more suave and bland.

*' We are all aware," he said, " that Mr. Hepburn does
not hold absolutely with our Assembly in all things — the
preaching as a selected candidate, for instance — yet he does
not feel it impossible to remain a minister of the Free
Church."

" Hadn't you better explain what vital principle means,
Hepburn ? " said Mr. Laing, with much seriousness.

" Oh, come ! " exclaimed Mr. Watson, " we are not here
to discuss questions of vital principle, but of this particular
hymn book business. Of course you know, Mr. Hepburn,
that personally Mr. Cruickshanks and myself are opposed
to the innovation. But, as members of the kirk session, we
are bound to act, in some measure, as representatives of the
congregation. In short, what, we want to know is, what
line of action you would be disposed to adopt whenever
consideration of the question is forced upon us 1 "

" That is just what I cannot tell you, Mr. Watson. I
am minister, remember, of the whole congregation, not of
any one part therein. In all cases where no vital principle
is at stake, I hold a minister bound entirely to set aside all
personal feelings, and so to act that all members of his
congregation may feel sure of his full sympathy and respect

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for their wishes and feelings even when they may chance to
hold different sentiments from his own."

" An amount of self-abnegation I should hold to be rare,"
said Mr. Cruickshanks, with a perceptible sneer ; but his
eyes shifted uneasily under the glance he drew upon himself.

"So rare as to be practically non-existent, Mr. Cruick-
shanks ; " and the minister's tone was grave even to stern-
ness." " The man who should attain to total extinction of
self "'ould have few virtues left to struggle for. None the
less are we bound to aim at it to the utmost of our ability.
If wo ministers attained more generally nearer to that
blessed goal, there would be far fewer schisms, wranglings,
and unseemly disputes in the Church. Each man fighting
for his own preferences or prejudices, and calling them vital
principles which he is bound to maintain, is the source of
most of our troubles. Ministers cannot expect to improve
this state of things by preaching, unless they also add the
silent teaching of example."

" Hang it, Cruickshanks," said Mr. Watson, who was a
good man of business ; " I wish you would let us keep to
the point, and not keep ; ading off to general discussions.
If yo'^ want a sermon all to yourself, I daresay Mr. Hep-
burn will give you a private interview. What we want
now is to settle what course is to be followed wherever this
hymn book question is forced upon us."

" True," said Mr. Laing, looking at his watch. " We
had better be getting on. I have a business appointment
at ten o'clock to-morrow morning."

"lam afraid," said Mr. Hepburn, with a smile, "you
want to get on to a point which I warn you you will not
reach. I mean a definite statement of opinion, I should^
call it partizanship on my own part. ' That I cannot give
you. 1 cannot even form a resolution myself, as to the

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James Hephwiin.

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course I shall follow, until I see what tone and temper per-
vades the congregation in dealing with this matter. I can
very candidly express a wish that it had not been likely to
come forward at this particular moment. Beyond that I
can say nothing."

'' Shall I again expose myself to the displeasure of Mr.
Watson," said Mr. Cruickshanks, " if I venture to ask what
reason Mr. Hepburn has for that wish ? Such a wish, if
well grounded, might be made use of to bring about the
result desired."

" It would be a somewhat unusual instance of congrega-
tional procedure if it did," put in Mr. Laing.

Mr. Hepburn shook his head at him. " You ar» incor-
rigible," he said. " No, Mr. Cruickshanks, I do not think
there is any siich chance. My wish arises solely from the
feeling that every change to some extent unsettles a con-
gregation, and that having had one lately it would have
been better to defer another for a time."

There was not much more, after Mr. Hepburn's Very dis-
tinct statement of his determination, which could be said.
On that point, at least, Mr. Cruickshanks could not siy the
trumpet gave an uncertain sound. After a little more
desultory conversation, the deputation retired.

" Well," said Mr. Watson, as they walked away, ** we
hdvr't taken much by that move. It seems to me our min-
ister always contrives to give a most unpleasant turn to
any discussion of the sort. I confess I don't like that sort
of aiming at the impossible being hurled at me. Let a man
try to do what he can do, not what he can't. That's my
idea."

" There is some advantage in professing a very high
standard in principle," said Mr. Cruickshanks. " It covers
a lot of failures in action."

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" Faith, it'll have to be brood and long, and thick in the
case of most of us, then," said Mr. Laing, ** for it'll have a
deal to cover. But I can't agree with you, Watson, that
we have taken nothing by our move. We've got aa clear r.
statement of Mr. Hepburn's views as we could possibly
expect. He said from the very first he wDuld be the min-
ister of the wh' e congregation, not of any one party, and
if you'd only k' ip that in mind, you might have predicted
very certainly what line he would take now, without the
trouble of interviewing him."

" Of course ; if you accept that formula. I don't. T
don't like old practices turning up with fine new-fangled
names. If a man means to be a trimmer, let him say so at
once, and not call it by a fine name, and set up for being
more virtuous than other people. Mr. Hepburn will make
Mossgiel too hot to hold him before very long, I doubt."
" Or himself too hot for Mossgiel to hold."
" Oh, if you like it that way. I can't say I see much
difference."

" There is a difference, all the same." •

And Mr. Cruickshanks thought he understood Mr. Laing's
meaning ; and the remark came often back to his mind,
arousing unea&y sensations.

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James Hephutm.

155

Chapter XII.

J CLUE AND A REVELATION.

MB. HEPBURN, disregarding sentimeutal considera-
tions, had exchanged the trusty pony which had
saved his life for a horse more suited to the saddle ; and
one day, a few weeks later, as he was riding in the neigh-
bourhood of Strathellon, he was overtaken by Lady Ellinor
Farquharson, also on horseback.

" A fortunate encounter," she said, as she greeted him
" I wanted to speak to you."

" I am all attention," he replied, striving at the same
time, covertly to question her face. It was the first time
' he had seen her very close since that visit of Mr. Laing's,
after the ball, and she had been often in his thoughts. He
could read nothing, however. A certain wistful look there
was in her eyes, a look which may mean mystic enthusiasm,
unsatisfied aspirations, some hidden spring of sorrow, but
which always means that the present life is not an overflow-
ing cup of bliss. But then that look was always there, so
there was nothing to be read in that, and otherwise the
lovely face was bright and sunny as ever.

" I want to know if you think dancing very wicked ? "

" Dancing wicked," he repeated in a puzzled tone. "Why
on earth should you put that question to a hermit lately
f come forth from the wilderness? What should I know
about such matters? I declare I don't think I have seen
dancing — such at least as you have in your thoughts — since
I was a boy at college."

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" I thought all clergymen were supposed to have decided
opinions on such points."

" I am afraid a good many feel, or think themselves
bound to express them at any rate. I suppose there might
be something found to say for and against all amusements.
But what made you ask me the question ? "

" "We will come to that presently, aft ar you have answered
another question, which, being one of fact, you will find
easier. Have you made any progress toward finding out
who is the object of your volcanic ne'er-do-weel's homicidal
hatred ? "

"No the slightest. In truth, I have of late, given very
little thought to the subject, for he has gone away."

" Yes ; but to return."

" Oh, yes, he is coming back. But so long r he is safely
afar, I do not feel mysolf bound to turn my thoughts to
what is really a very annoying subject to me."

" A hint to me to hold my tongue."

" Not at all. I am full of curiosity to know what can be
the possible connection, which your words seem to imply,
between this question and t!:o rioral aspects of the occupa-
tion of dancing."

** A nearer one than you might think. Are you too much
of a recluse to be aware that a ball is ofttimes a wondrous
revealer of hidden sentiments ? "

It was only by an effort he prevented a perceptible start.
Was it bravado ? Was she reallv unconscious ? or was she
merely trying to find out the extent of his knowledge ? The
question was answered instantly. She started herself, and
a sudden rush or colour dyed her face crimson, then, fading*
as suddenly, left her very pale.

James Hepburn was no highly polished courtier, but he
knew perfectly well what to do. He neither touched his

Jamen Hepburn.

157

horse with the spur nor becanio absorbed in his stirrup
irons, nor perpetrated any of those blundering nianwuvres
whereby maladroit people emphasize their perception of an
awkward situation. He simply preserved a perfectly un'
concerned air, and instantly replied.

" I imagine any crowd is that. I don't suppose there is
anything like a crowd of any sort for betraying what
people's true characters and dispositions are. Still I am as
much as ever in the dark as to the mysterious connection
of ideas, in this particular case."

She had perfectly recovered herself in a momenv, and
answered at once, laughing,

" I shall have to ramble still further afield in order to ex-
plain that. You must know, that as in duty bound, we
have a ball always about Christmas for the servants. Now
it so happens that we shall not be at home this year at
Christmas. We are going to my father's a week before
then, and afterwards to the south of England for some
time. Therefore the ball this year is to be considerably
antedated, and will, in fact, take place in about a fortnight.
The servants have carte blanche — within certain limits of
course — to ask whomsoever they please, and I know your
housekeeper and her frolicsome niece will be among the
number. General Farquharson and I were talking over
tlie matter this morning, and I think the same idea occurred
to both of us — that if you would come yourself you might
chance to light upon a clue through watching the proceed-
ings of the damsel herself. The whole of the out-door
Strathellon establishment will of course be there."
» " I think the idea an admirable one. I will certainly
come, and postpone the decision on the morality of dancing
until afterwards."

" Then come to dinner, and help the poor dear General

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to bear up with fortitude. I aui Hcouring the country for
dancing men. We are still doing popularity, you know.
I must have some pretty girls too ; some nice ones who will
dance with the keepers without looking condescending.
Unfortunately my two young sisters cannot come, or they
would l^e a host in themselves."

" The Miss Chaniberlaynos ? "

She gave her head a little impatient shake. *' They have
come out too lately. If they danced with the butler they
would not be able to avoid showing they remembered he
had been waiting at dinner. I am better off for meii.
My two brothers and Sir Maurice Adair will go a long way."

" I thought Sir Maurice was in England ? "

" He will be back by then.'' He thought the answer
was a little short in tone, that was all ; and then, seeing
that he was checking his horse at the turning which led to
Strathellon, she added, " Are you not coming to luncheon ? "

" Not to-day thanks. I must get home."

Then, with a friendly salutation, she rode away.

The suggestion was certainly an excellent one, he
thought. He would not be expected to take any active
share in the proceedings. From the vantage ground of a
mere looker on he might do a good deal more than merely
watch coquettish Mary Warrender. Not the most insati-
able gossip in all the country round thirsted more eagerly
for information regarding Lady Ellinor than did he, in his
pure admiration and unselRsh devotion. Let him only feel
certain that the point was reached when interference vrati
the only chance of safety, and a weapon not more likely to
wound than protect those in whose behalf it was wielded,
and he would interfere to some purpose. *

Two days before the ball he spoke to Mrs. Findlay on
the subject.

James Hejyhurt^.

150

) answer

"Hcott can drive me over in time for dinner," he said,
" and then you and Mary can have the cart for the evening.
I will walk home."

" Ye're vera kind, sir, I'm sure. But I'm no sure that
Mary and me'll be going after all."

" Not going ? "

" Maybe no. Rob Blackwood's come harae."

" When ? "

" Twa nichts syne. I doubt he'll be at the ball, and
then I'd as soon Mary bided at hame."

" I should think he is most unlikely to be there. But at
any rate it will be great irapertilience to General and Lady
Ellinor Farquharson if you stay away now, for no better
reason than that. What makes you think Blackwood will
be there?"

"Just to get a chance of makin' up to Mary."

" He can't go unless he is asked, and I am pretty sure
that will not be allowed. However, you must go anyway,
so get all your finery ready."

There was a large party assembled when he reached
Strathellon, and soon after his entrance Lady Ellinor came
across to him.

" An unfortunate thing has happened," she said.

"What?"

" Blackwood is to be here. It is a piece of stupidity of
one of the watchers, who is, I fancy, in some way related to
him. We are much annoyed, but General Farquharson
says he does not know enough against him to let him think
himself justified in taking so strong a measure as ordering
the invitation to be cancelled. He thinks it would be cast-
ing an unjust stigma on the man. Had we known in time
we would of course have stopped it. I feel rather nervous.
X hope he won't bring loaded pistols in his pockets."

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'* Oh, no. I do not think he will do anything outrageous
here. His presence may, after all, aid my purpose."

None the less he sought out Mary Warrender when the
ball was about to begin, and gave her a strong warnings
adding, with characteristic bluntness —

" Flirt I suppose you must and will, but for any sake
don't flirt especially with any one person. He can't blow
out the brains of a dozen men at once," he added to himself.
" A plurality of blockheads may save the whole lot."

He could not but allow that Mary Warrender fully car-
ried out his conditional admonition. She was not only very
pretty, she was a good dancer, and had a quick tongue, and
was in great request. But her smiles were bestowed with
judicious impartiality. Now it was Randolph Forbes, or
Sir Maurice Adair, then a groom, keeper, or footman. The
most jealous of lovers could not have concentrated himself.
Blackwood danced very little, and wore a lowering expres-
sion.

Neither was there anything to be observed on the other
score. Lady EUinor and Sir Maurice were both doing their
dnty in a way that kept them almost wholly apart. Beyond
an occasional smiling remark, as they came across each
other, hardly a word passed between them.

Mr. Hepburn was getting rather tired of the whole thing,
and was leaning against a window frome, meritoriously sup-
pressing a strong inclination to yawn, when General Far-
qnharson came up, and yawned undisguisedly.

" Not much more in your way than mine, Mr. Hepburn,"
he said. " "We don't seem likely, after all, to have murder
for a change. What do you make out ? "

" Nothing ; save that there seems to be safety in num-
bers."

" For the numbers, yes. But how about the girl ? She

James Hepburn.

161

in num-

is a most outrageous little flirt. Judging from some of my
Indian reminiscences, I should say she was far from safe."

Hardly waiting for a reply, he moved away to speak to
some one else, and in a few moments one of the Chamber-
laynes took his place beside the minister.

"You've the advantage of us all, Mr. Hepburn," he said,
"I would give something to be as cool as you look." Before
the minister had time to reply, the young man gave a sud-
den start, and looking past him, said in a low voice, "Good
Heavens, who is that 1 If ever I saw murder written on
a human face ? "

James Hepburn glanced hastily around. Robert Black-
wook was leaning against the door post in the open door-
way, with his arms folded ; and the minister knew that the
object of his hatred and suspicion was in the room, and
within a narrow radius, in what part of it. There was,
verily, as the young man had said, murder in his glance,
and that glance of deadly concentrated hate was fixed upon
a group standing near the other end of the room. But then
unfortunately it was a group. Lady Ellinor's two brothers,
Sir Maurice Adair, the house steward, the head keeper, and
one or two other retainers, were standing in a close knot
discussing some projected diversion. Mary Warrender was
sitting at some distance talking to another girl. Mr. Hep-
burn would have staked any thing on the fact that one of
that group was the man whose identity he was so anxious
to establish. But which 1 He was no nearer a discovery
of any practical benefit than before.

"Who is he? What does it mean?" asked the younger
man, after a moment's silent watching.

" Only that he is a jealous lover. He happens to be a
suitor of that frisky damsel you were dancing with last, and
he is not quite on sure ground."

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*' Good Lord, I'll mind I don't danc6 with her again. I
shall go and warn the Forbeses and Adair. She must be
left to the married men. We shall find ourselves minus
our brains, before we know wIk re we are."

Blackwood caught Mr. Hep urn's eye at the moment,
and turning suddenly on his heel, walked out of the room.
The minister's resolution was taken instantly, and he fol-
lowed him. Blackwood was putting on his coat and hat.

" Are you going home, Blackwood ? " he asked.

" Ay, I'm for awa, sir ; I've had eneuch o' this. I dinna
weel ken why I was sic a fule as to come."

" T am going also. I'll walk back to Mossgiel with you.

" Are ye walkin', sir ? "

" Yes. I am going to leave the trap for Scott to drive
Mrs. Findlay and Mary home."

" Weel, I'll be proud to walk wi' ye' sir, if ye wish it.
But ye maun hae small regard for yer character, I'm think-
in', if ye've a mind to be seen walkin' wi' me, weel on to
twa hours after midnight."

" If my character is so fragile as that, it must be well
into fragments already," answered the minister, laughing as
he put on his hat and coat, and leaving a message for Lady
EUinor, which he knew she would understand, set off home,
in company with Blackwood ; not sorry to leave, but pretty
well satisfied by the mere fact of Blackwood's readiness to
accompany him, that his vigilance was unnecessary, in this
instance at least.

" Do ye care sae little about yer character then, sir,'>
Blackwood said, after a short silence, as they walked to
gether down the drive.

" God forbid ! " exclaimed Mr. Hepburn. " I newe\
meant that. No man is free from frailty, but I would cut
off my right hand before I would voluntarily do a thing

James Hephdurn.

163

IS minus

calcalated to bring discredit on my profession. But as for
heeding the moral swine that are for ever routing in the
mi.'e for garbage, I should never dream of such a thing."

Blackwood again relapsed into silence for a brief space.
Then he said, —

" Maybe then, sir, ye'll no greatly care for what I've had
in my mind, whiles, to tell ye."

" Tell me what it is, and then I can tell you. I am very
sure, Blackwood, that anything you say or do on my account
will be out of a hearty desire to do me service."

" Ay, ye're richt there, sir. I was no that dazed the
nicht ye dirled my heid sae sair for me, but that I heard ye
ca' me ' brither,' an' nae in the way ministers are aye sayin'
* dear brethren ' frae the pulpit, wi' nae mair meanin' than
a parrot's chatter. I've ne'er forgot it. I'll tell ye what I
was thinkin' to tell ye, an' if ye're no pleased, ye'll believe
I had a gude intent, an' look ower the offence."
" You may trust me for that."

" Weel, sir, I doubt ye'll likely ken that syne ye got
Leddy Ellinor to visit Thompson's, she's been whiles down
aboot there, an' she's been to see ither folk that was in
trouble forbye the Thompson's."
" Yes, I know that."

" She's a gude, kind-hearted leddy, there's nae twa words
aboot that. An' she's nae like the leddies, at least the
maist o' them, in the town ; that condesccndin' that ye'd
think they were aye frichted puir folk might come to think
they were made o' like flesh and blude. They a' say ye can
see that she's nae thinkin' o' hersel' ava, but just fu' o' kind
thochts for them that's in sorrow. An' of course there's
been a deal o' talk aboot her."

"Of course," replied Mr. Hepburn, with an invisible
frown in the darkness. He thought he knew what was
coming.

104

Javies Hepburn.

ill

I *

1,1

ti;

r,! ,

11^':

" For a' they think f$ae muckle o' her, they canna resist a
bit gossip ; but it isn't they who set it goin'. But what wi'
the leddies chatterin', an' the servants, an' the shops, a* the
clash gangs clean through the town, first or last. An' there's
a deal o' chatterin' the noo aboot Leddy EUinor an' yersel',
sir.

Mr. Hepburn gave a sort of gasp, and stopped dead.
" About Lady Ellinor and me," he repeated.

" Ay, sir, I thocht ye didna ken it ; and that it wad be
weel ye sud. Ye see, sir, I ken weel mysel' v;hat it is to
get a bad name for nae gude cause, an' hoo everything turns
against ye then, an' I did think ye micht like to be on yer
guard. A minister's nae just the same as ither men. Of
course ye'U ken, sir, naebody's thocht to say there's aught
wrang ; but they say she's that glakit, she'll just play wi'
ony man, like a cat wi' a mouse, an' that she's amused at
the thocht o' turnin* a minister's heid ; an' that ye're just
bewitched wi' her beau<^iful face an* pretty ways, an' in a
fair way to lose yer heid a'thogither."

Mr. Hepburn walked on in silence, and Blackwood, with '
that sort of tact which nature sometimes bestows, after a
moment's pajse, continued speaking.

" I doubt ye see, sir, the maist o' the leddies in the town
are like eneuch to gang aff their heids themselves wi' jeal-
ousy o' Leddy Ellinor, in a sort o' general way, ye ken."

" Why should they be ? " asked the minister suddenly ;
" she is quite out of their way."

" She's RO quite oot o' sicht o' their husbands, sir. Min-
ister," — and his voice suddenly changed, growing deep and
tremulous in tone — " wad ye no lay down yer life to shield
Leddy Ellinor frae ony harm ? "

•' Right gladly.'" The answer came as though forced
from him, whether he would or no.

"§

JariWH Hepburn.

165

" Sae wad I, an' sae wad money ane that I ken, that wad
scarce daur to lift an eye to her as she passed. I doubt
somn o' they leddies in town hae a sort o' glininierin' their
husbands are somewhat in the same mind, an' they dinna
tak kindly to the notion, which I'll no say is a surprisin*
circumstance. I doubt that's why they're a' sae ready to
rin her doon ; an' I thocht I Wiid just mak' bold to tell ye
what was said, that ye might \\e on yer guard. There's a
liantle o' they toun folk hae nae great luve for ye, sir, an' I
wad no like to think they could tak ye by surprise, sae ye'11
just forgi'e my pittin' ye on yer guard, so that ye'll nae in-
advertently do or say ony thing ye wadna care aboot if ye
knew. An' iioo I'll say gude nicht, sir. This is my near-
est way hame."

He paused jur>t at the entrance of a cross road on the
outskirts of the town. Mr. Hepburn cordially grasped his
hand.

"Good night, Blackwood, and thank you a thousand
times. You have done me a real service, and I thank you
most sincerely."

" There's nae need, sir. I'm proud ye're nc offended wi'
me for bein' sae bold."

With that he disappeared, and James Hepburn pursued
his solitary way to the manse.

(11)

It I

166

Janu'H HepU irii.

Chafteu XIII.

AN UdLY ONSLAUaUT.

'■■

I ::[■

.i i-'f;

HE could not say that his somewliat unwonted action in
going to a ball had not been pregnant of results ; and
it need hardly be said that these results had not tended to
mollify his general attitude towards society. He did not
greatly trouble himself on Lady EUinor Farquharson's ac-
count. She seemed to him to belong so completely to
another sphere that he could not picture to himself the
possibility of her atmosphere being even faintly stirred by
Mossgiel gossip and scandal. But on what moral garbage
must the souls be habitually fed which could thus soil with
their noxious imaginings relations so perfectly simple and
natural as Lady Ellinor's and his own, even though their
evil suggestions went no further than coquetry on her partj
and glamour on his ? And these were the people whose
views and opinions, on questions moral and religious, he
was forced to treat with a certain deference — who listened
critically when he preached, and fain would have had him
preach " on a^^proval," in order that each one might listen
judicially, decide upon his fitness for the ministry, and vote
accordingly. Were they, by right, even within the pale of
Christianity at all ?

He pursued this train of thought until he found himself
involuntarily recurring again and again to Blackwood's
pungent remarks about their matrimonial anxieties with a
certain arrim satisfaction which his conscience condemned ;
and he rose to retire in the early morning with a sigh, and

James Ilephnirn.

167

iction in
ilts ; and
jnded to
! did not
rson's ac-
iletely to
nself the
stirred by
il garbage
soil with
mple and
(Ugh their
her partj
pie whose
igious, he
listened
had him
aht listen
and vote
he pale oi

the admission that there is mud enough in the depths of
any soul to render violent moral ugitation unsafe, even
though the exciting cause might be most righteous indigna-
tion.

Any thought of altering his conduct in any way where
Lady Ellinor was in question formed no part of liis medita-
tions. How grave soever his fears for her might be, no
woman ever lived who was more wholly free from the least
trace of general coquetry. To act in any way as though
such a vice could be possible to her would be an insult.
Let ttic lovers of mud dabble in tlie mud of their own pro-
viding, he would only be on his guard against incautiously
treating them as though they were healthful, cleanly souls,
rejoicing in all that was honorable and of good report.

That was about the last thought with which he fell aleep,
and hence it would appear that James Hepburn was not
precisely the man to be popular in a country town. Out of
the abundance of the heart the mouth must speak, even
though some trimming and shaping may take place in the
process of transformation of thought into speech ; and a
minister who, in the secret recesses of his soul, pronounced
many, at least, of the virtuous wives and spinsters of his
congregation to be moral lovers of mud, would not be likely
to frame his utterances in a manner wholly pleasing to
them.

Neither was his mental attitude devoid of a certain
oblique action. The impending hymn book disturbance lay
heavy on his soul. Not that, personally, he very greatly
cared whether his congregation uplifted their voices in
psalm or hymn ; but just because the question was, in it-
self, unimportant, so certainly would the wrangle over it
be bitter and acrimonious ; a successful sowing of a fruitful
crop of heartburning and bad feeling. And though, in

168

'4-

I h

.. I

ii,

■f

I'ii

, ,

■m

JiinieH Hrphnim.

actual fact, he would have to deal chiefly with the elders
and deacons of his congregrtion, he knew very well to whose
piping they would dance ; and felt that, in effect, this ques-
tion had to be setthnl with those women who were maliciously
spreading evil reports of a beautiful woman, whose real
offence in their eyes was that she was too perilously attrac-

I'Slg' .

striving

tive; and wl o wore seriously cl
damage his ministerial character.

At length, after much proposing au ■ ouatgr-proposing, a
suggestion was made to him to convene a mee? ./^ of elders
and deacons, to discuss the advisability Oi summoning a
meeting of the whole congregation, and taking by vote; a
census of opinion on the proposed innovation. It was not
with the most cordial feelings that he assented. His chiv-
alry did not extend the length of feeling well pleased at a
solemn assembly being convened, to further in reality the
views of a set of gossip-loving women, though the strong
self-discipline of a life time rendered it never a very difficult
task to him to subordinate feeling entirely to the dictates
of judgment. So a day was fixed, and summonses duly
issued.

Meantime, however, thte demon of discord had been busy
working up circumstances, in no way connected with the
subject in question, into an excellent chance of rendering
that meeting a stormy one. There had long been a smoul-
dering dispute between Mr. Cruickshanks and a neighbour
about certain rights connected with the outhouses in a back
yard to which both houses had access. This dispute had
lately blazed out afresh. Mr. Cruickshanks had allowed
Messrs. Ronald and Robson to store goods in one of these
outhouses, since which, Mr. Gilmour affirmed, very doubf^-
f ul characters had been constantly hanging about the place,
and he had boldly challenger. Mr. Cruickshanks' right to

i.:|

Jaines Hcpbuiifi,

1(59

the use of thesti outhouses. There liacl l)een several acri-
monious discussions over the matter, and on the very day
fixed for the meeting there had l)een an especially stormy
one, in the course of which Mr. Gilmour had threatened to
place the matter in legal hands, and to ask advice from
Mr. Laing. This threat had resulted in Mr. Cruickshanks
compromising the matter, on terms w^hich he considered
very unfair, and decidedly detrimental to his own interests.
Under all his suavity there lay a remarkable aptitude for
sometimes losing his temper, and, metaphorically, hitting
out viciously ; and when he set out for the meeting he was
in a state of extreme irritability.

" Well, gentlemen," Mr. Hepburn said, when the party
were all assembled, "Now that we are all here, I do not
exactly know how we are going to procoed. This is neither
a meeting of the kirk session, nor of the deacons' court. I
do not know that we have any authority to deal in con-
glomerates."

" I take it the minister is always entitled to request the
office-bearers to meet together for discussion in any case
where he considers it desirable," said Mr. Watson.

" I'm quite agreeable to that, Mr. Watson," put in Mr.
Rutherford, " an* I'm thinkin', if the minister wad just tak'
the chair, an' proceed in a' things as if this was a meetin'
of the kirk session, of course without enterin' ony minutes
in the session book, it wad be the best course to pursue.
There's nae doubt we've got a question comin' on that's
made a deal o' wark an' unpleasantness in mony congrega-
tions, an' we thought if we could talk the matter over in
this way, we'd maybe decide upon some course that might
tend to preserve peace and harmony amongst us, an' that
I'm sure is greatly to be wished."

" Most devoutly to be wished," said the minister, taking

170

J am en Hepburn.

iji

'Si

i ?•

': ;' !

I i

P-: ^

4 '

.'i i

! ii

I-

! \

L ^ ]

tiie ciiiiir, ill response tu this spoocli, aiul a sort of silent
movement of ac(|uie.sconce among the rest of the assembly.
'* And the first suggestion I would make is that some one
should state distinctly what it is we are going to discuss."

" Dear me, were you not informed ? " said Mr. Cruick-
shanks, with a mild attempt to be sarcastic. "That is a
strange oversight. The introduction of the hymn book is
the question we are to consider."

" Doubtless. But that is a question that has a good many
sides. We cannot consider them all p,t once. Where are
you going to begin 1 "

" Oh this sort of skirmishing is no use," put in Mr. Wat-
son, a little dictatorially. " The matter lies in a nut shell.
A lot of empty-headed young people, who wouldn't mind
having a brass band in the cliurcli by way of change, have
set thei** minds on getting the hymn book introduced ; and
the question is, are we, the older and more experienced
members, going to let them carry out their childish pranks
unmolested ? That's the way I look at it."

"These giddy young people have, at least, got so far as-
to force us to hold a meeting on the subject, Mr. Watson,"
said the minister. "That looks as if they carried some
weight."

" Yes, Mr. Hepburn, and you'll excuse me if I say, it
seems to me the weight they have, comes of their not being
at once put down. I don't wish to say anything disrespect-
ful to you, but I think if you had shown a little more firm-
ness at the first, we should have had no trouble about the
matter."

" It would be difficult for me to show firmness about a
matter I have never had an opportunity of treating," replied
the minister. " But I don't think you are putting your
meaning quite plainly, Mr. Watson. What you want is,

JdiiifH Hfpbam.

that 1 hIiou1(I take a decided position, for ov u^ainst, at
once."

" Hear, hear," continued Mr. Cruickshanks, with much
emphasis.

"And that," continued Mr. Hepburn, just turning his
eyes upon him for a moment, " is wl»at I will not do. 1
confess I regret this question having arisen at the present
moment? A change of ministers must always, to sonje
extent, unsettle a congregation, and 1 should have been glad
if a longer interval had been allowed to pass before another
question, on which it is hopeless to expect unanimity, had
arisen. Your view of it, Mr. Watson, is, you must excuse
me for saying, wholly untenable A change of the sort
proposed is sure to be welcome to the younger members of
the congregation, but they are far from being the sole
desirers of the introduction of the hymnal, or hymn book.
And I tell you plainly, that it is quite inconsistent with my
conceptions of ministerial responsibility to ally myself with
one side or the other in a question of this sort. I have my
own preferences, but I do not care even to state what they
are. I hold myself bound entirely to set them aside. Sup-
posing the question brought to the vote in the congregation,
my action would simply be to abstain from voting at all ;
if, on either side the majority was a very narrow one, to use
my utmost efforts to induce that majority to forget the use
of their victory, rather than incur the risk of arousing that
bitterness of feeling which is sure to spring up over a case
of this sort, \yhen parties Are very nearly balanced. Were
the majority a very large one, my endeavour then would be,
to induce the minority to yield with a good grace, for the
sake of peace, and in confidence that habit would render
the change every day less distasteful to them 1

" A very extraordinary view of ministerial responsibility,

172

JtUiu'H llcplnuKi.

^ i.

I :

i J;

. i

it seeiDH to iiie," sjiid Mr. Watson. " A sort of staiul-well-
witli-Hll-party notion."

There was a momentary flash in the minister's eye, but
he answered with a smile, " For * all,' substitute 'no,* and
you will be lutarer the mark. Hut I shall have to remind
you, Mr. Watson, of your late judicious suggestion to Mr.
Cruickshanks, about sticking to the point, and not introduc-
ing general (luestioiis."

Meantime, however, an elderly and extremely orthodox
deacon had made some remark to Mr. Cruickshanks about
Jesuitism, in an under tone. Mr. Cruickshanks' mental pro-
cesses were not logical, perhaps, but they were not generally
difficult to follow, and it was not perhaps surprising that he
here put in with a rather sneering accent.

" Perhaps to substitute ' a policy of trimming ' would be
nearer the mark still."

A Hush rose to Mr. Hepburn's face, but he answered
quietly, " That is rather an offensive remark, Mr. Cruick-
shanks. You can hardly be so ignorant of the English
language as not to be aware that a steady and open refusal
to side with any party, is a policy the very reverse of any
to which the term ' trimming' can fairly be applied."

It must be allowed, that though the words were spoken
quietly enough, the intonation was not wholly devoid of a
slight tinge of contempt. Mr. Cruickshanks replied with
all his usual suavity of manner ; but none the less did he
contrive to infuse into it a considerable amount of covert
insolence.

" I am sure I had no intention of being offensive, and I
don't pretend to be a scholar. Of course, Mr. Hepburn has
the advantage of us all, if he chooses to split straws over the
strictly accurate meaning of words. Plain business men can
only use them in the way they are generally used."

1 1

Jifnu'n /I>'fthn,rn.

173

" You had Iwtter coiiHult soiuo of your imutical uiM{UHiut-
ances then," said th»i luiiuHter. "They will «ooii correct
your inipresHioiiH respecting the meaning of tfie woni ' trini-

> )t

men can

nung

Nettled, as he undoubtedly was, by the insinuation, nothing
was further from James Hepburn's thoughts than to retort
with another insinuation, nor, at the moment, was there the
slightest remembrance of Mr. Cruickshanks' suspected «|ues-
tionable dealings in his mind. liut who shall predict where
an irritated man will tind offence, or an uneasy conscience
or consciousness detect a hidden meaning ? Moreover, in
Mr. Cruickshanks' earlier experiences that day some sharp
remarks had been dropped about seamen who were little
better than smugglers. All his repressed irritability burst
into a flame, and bringing his clenched tist down on the
table with a violence which caused the whole assembly to
start, he exclaimed —

" If that isn't an offensive remark, Mr. Hepburn, I don't
know what is, seeing everyone knows that anyone who has
nautical acqaintances in this town must be in the habit of
associating with very indifferent characters — a practice, let
me tell you, of whi ■^h I have never been accused, or even
suspected, as far as I know, not even to the length of dang-
ling about after a painted Jezebel."

A momentary sensation of sincere gratitude for Robert
Blackwood's timely warning flashed through Mr. Hepburn's
mind. He was not taken off his guard. But ere he had
time even to think how best to repsj, Mr. Laing interposed
with a hearty laugh, either genuine or remarkably well-
feigned.

" Upon my word, Mr. Cruickshanks, that's a most unfor-
tunate suggestion for you to make. You'll get hoist with
your own petard, my good sir. I saw Gilmour this after

174

Jamfs Hephurv.

rf |l

noon, and he seems not a little inclined to think you are
anxious to play Ahab to his Naboth, in that backyard busi-
ness."

'* Oh yes," broke in Mr. V^tson, who did not object to a
little sparring, but was a sensible enough man under such
circumstances ^s the resent. " We're all more or less
living in glass houses, in such a place as this. We should
all carefully avoid throwing stones, even in jest."

" An' I think, sir," put in Mr. Rutherford, " we wad do
weel to keep closer to business. Ye'll excuse me, gentlemen,
if I say my time is rather valuable to me just the noo, I'll
be glad to get through the business, an' get awa hame as
soon as ye like."

" Amea to that," said Mr. Hepburn, laughing. " You
can abuse me for being a moderate at your leisure, after-
wards. I have a terrible accumulation of study work to
get through."

Thus this ugly phase of circumstances was tided over, and
after a little more discussion, which probably the great
peril thus happily surmounted helped to render more har-
monious than might otherwise have been the case, and in
which there was evinced a strong tendency altogether to
ignore Mr. Cruickshanks, the only practical question bearing
upon the subject was settled, by a resolution, that it would
be advisable that the matter should be left as it stood until
after the New Year, and that then, when the principal part
of the congregation was pretty certain to be at home, a con-
gregational meeting should be summoned, and votes taken
on the subject.

Mr. Cruickshanks, with some hurried excuse about press-
ing engagements, left the room hastily, the moment the
meeting was over. The remainder of the party followed
more leisurely, some half dozen or more, whose course lay in

i I

James Hephurii.

175

the same direction, uccoiupanying the iniuiHter, and chatting
a little too markedly perhaps on indili'erent topics. One by
one they dropped away, as their courses diverged, until at
last, Mr. Hepburn and Mr. Laing were left together.

" That was an ugly hit, Hepburn," he said. " I fear you
were taken rather off your guard."

" Yes, as far as time, place, and hitter goes, not other-
wise. 1 would have given something just then to hit him
back with the arm of flesh ! I would have given him a
worse blow than "

" Than I gave Blackwood," he was on the point of saying ;
and the fact of finding himself so near such a slip, brought
to him a keener perception of the extent of his own excite-
ment and perturbation than he had before possessed.

" Than his tongue inflicted, I suppose. I do not doubt
that. It was Cruickshanks all over. He is an ugly rascal
to deal with. He has practised that soft insinuating manner
of his until it has become so habitual that you may know
him a long time before you find out what an infernally nasty
temper he has underneath. Gilmour had hit him pretty-
hard about smugglers, and I saw he was in bad humour
when he came. Of course he suspected you of intending an
underhand thrust. I did not know, however, that you were
aware of what had been said."

" I was not, until a short time since."

" Of course I had heard it," Mr. Laing said, " but I could
not make up my mind whether to tell you or not. I hardly
knew how you would take it."

" I think it is too ridiculous to be of much importance.
If it would keep their prying eyes from straying in more
dangerous directions, it might be an advantage. All the
same, though, I am not sorry she is safely away for some
months. I suppose that unlucky outburst of Cruickshanks'
will set the whole place ringing with scandal again."

176

JitnicH HBphnm.

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" You may take your oath of that ; but I managed to
spoil Cruickshaiiks's game for him. His wife isn't popular.
She's a dressy, self -asserting sort of woman, with independent
and unpopular opinions regarding the social status of whole-
sale and retail businesses. I'll be bound wherever his remark
goes, mine will go along with it, and more than half turn the
joke against himself."

" It was an excellent counter-thrust. But now, come in
and smoke a cigar if you like, but for goodness sake talk of
something else."

With a boding heart Mr, Watson returned to his, for the
moment, deserted home. Mrs. Watson had gone to keep
Mrs. Wylie company during her husband's absence at the
meeting, the heterodox opinions of the Wylies on the
hymnal question not having been found a bar to friendly
intercourse in the case of people who possessed some social
recommend/itions ; and Mr. Watson had little doubt sundry
other wives had done the same. From Mr. Wylie they
would hear all that had passed, and as he remembered ^ihe
• dictatorial tone he had assumed, regarding the minister and
Lady Ellinor, his spirits sank to a low level. She came at
length, serenely triumphant. Still the triumph was unmis-
takable.

" Well, you seem to have had a nice sort of meeting ? "
she said.

" Well, yes," he answered, feebly entrenching himself in
apparent litenilness. " I think, on the whole, we came to
the only conclusion."

'• Oh, nonsense. I wasn't thinking about the hymn book.
I hope William you're satisfied now I hadn't found quite
such a marc's nest as you chose to make out."

" Mare's nest or no mare's nest," exclaimed her husband
impatiently, " I wish that ass Cruickshanks would keep his

aged to
popular,
pendent
f whole-
remark
turn the

Donie in
talk of

, for the

to keep

» at the

on the

friendly

e social

sundry

lie they

Bred ^ihe

3ter and

came at

3 unmis-

etmg ?

Qself in
same to

in book,
id quite

lusband
keep his

Jiiiiies IL'itham.

177

temper, or stay at home. Wo were precious near having a
very nasty scene, T can tell you. Should have had, I
believe, but for Laing's (|uickn('ss. By Jove, it was well
done, and Hepburn kept his temper admirably under con-
trol, tht)Ugh I am mistaken if Cruickshanks was not nearer
getting knocked down than h«; has often been. Would have
served him right too, crusty blockhead !

" A nice account lo give of a minister, thinking of knock-
ing people down, indeed ! For my part, I think Mr.
Cruickshanks was quite right to show Mr. Hepburn that
people can see through all the pretence of setting up such
a high standard of a minister's duty. Such hypocrisy is
sickening, and I must say T think it would have V)een more
to the credit of you all if you had stood by Mr. Cruick-
shanks, and backed up what he said, instead of just smooth-
ing it over, and helping Mr. Hepburn through."

Here Mr. Watson could smile benignantly. " Women
are very apt to think they understand everything better
than men. But a quarrel among men is a very difterent
thing from a quarrel among women, and is a thing women
do not always understand how to settle. Allow me to tell
you, a. very awkward business was never better tided over.
I only hope more mischief may not come of it."

" More mischief will come of Mr. Hepburn's infatuation,
^ou may be sure, especially now he feels he can count upon
the sympathy of the elders and deacons. I always suspected
that she painted," she continued in a reflective tone, "and
Mrs. Wylie, who is a very good judge, says she is certain of
it. But I wonder how Mr. Cruickshanks found it out ? "

"Heard it from Jezebel, I suppose," said Mr. Watson
with a laugh.

•* Really, William, it is abominable of you to take up that
vulgar joke of Mr. Laing's. I don't pretend to like Mrs,

A-

,■•.1

•

178

Jniu*'8 Hephitrn.

Ouickshanks ; hut ahf does not deserve to be spoken of in
this way. Slic; at anyrato does not paint."

" Faith, I should think not. Washing out is what she
wants."

" Do \ot bo personal. She cannot help having a high
colour."

" No more than Lady Ellinor can help having a complex-
ion which sets all you women mad with jealousy. That's
about what it comes to. And now I'm off to bed, for I'm
very tired."

He slipped out of the room and off to his dressing room
before his wife had time to recover from the stunning effects
of this impious suggestion, and thus got better out of a bad
business than he had dared to hope.

J> :' t

N I

i r 1

JtnneH Hephitrv.

179

Chapter XIV.

A RIOT OF TONdUES.

NEEDS it to tell how scandal held high festival in Moss-
giel after that eventful evening ? How women
darker id the moral atmosphere with showers of adjectives,
expressive of every possible phase of horror, indignation and
dismay ! How men, with less noisy declamation, gladdened
each other's hearts, on chance occasions, by epigrammatic
remarti ;.. pointed by a glance, an intonation, or a gesture !
Tlneie v.ifcS pasturage in rank abundance for imaginations of
every bhade of moral dinginess ; beginning with the mild,
aimf.it insipid flavour of a little mere thoughtlessness, and
•^TiC 4 in the highly spiced seasoning of a scandalous
divo a case. They talked until they talked themselves
into the belief that they really believed all they said.

There was, however, a bitter drop in the full cup of de-
light, in that the minister's tall form moved about amidst
the turmoil, either indifferent to, or unconscious of the riot
going on in the moral elements. Now and again, when cer-
tain members cf his congregation bore down upon him, a
slightly stern set look would gather over his face, otherwise
he made no sign.

" Does he know what is being said, that is the question ?"
remarked Mrs. Campbell, the young and pretty wife of a
wealthy elderly wine merchant, entertaining a select circle
of friends at tea, one afternoon, in reply to an indignant
query from Miss Muir, as to how it was possible he had tlie
courage to wulk down the principal street in the town ?

•ft

180

.Iniiu'H Upphihm.

Mrs. Cainplx'll had married for money, with a vivid per-
ception of the a(lv/inta^es money could confer, and a some-
what hjizy view of any other (juestion concerned. She had
been the beauty of a garrison town, and found Mossgiol
tedious, as also that a sobr'r-minded elderly husband was a
far heavier piece of ballast to which to attach yourself, than
in her girlish inexperience she had supposed. The Camp-
bells did not belong to the Free Church, but Mrs. Campbell
had begun greatly to wish that they did. A clerical Don
Juan appeared to her imagination a most novel and highly
interesting piece of masculine machinery.

" He must know," replied Miss Muir, " no one is talking
about anything f Ise."

" Out of his hearing ! Yes. But do you suppose people
do the same in his hearing"? 1 have some doubts on that
point. "

"You may well have," chimed in Mrs. Haigg, " I always
suspected he had a violent temper, and you hear what Mr;;.
Watson says ; how he almost struck Mr. Cruickshanks at
the meeting."

" Gracious me, Mrs. Haigg," exclaimed Mrs. Watson, " I
never said any svich thing."

" Well, I am sure it was something very like it. I know
I would not like to tell him what people are saying, though,
if he does not know it, I think it is a great pity. If I ever
speak to h)ra again, which I shall certainly not do if I can
avoid it, 1 bhall keep very clear of the subject. A man
who makes such a high 7>rofession, and then contrives to
lay himself open to two disgraceful imputations by the time
he has been a year in a place, would stop at nothing, I
should think."

"Why, what are you saying, Mrs. Haigg?" interposed
Mrs. Lor rimer, who naturally took a dispassionate view of

Jaw en Hepfmrn.

181

the case, and who was v^ry partial to Mr. Hrpburn. "Two
disgraceful iniputiitions ! i never heard of t;ven oim-, with
any foundation."

" I daresay not, Mrs. Lorrinier ; not beiny one of the
congregation you probably do not hesir all that thciy do."

" But two," exclaimed Mrs. Campbell. '* I never heard
of a thing being brought against Mr. Hepburn, except this
being bewitched by Lady Ellinor Farcjuha'.son. Do tell us
what you mean Mrs. Haigg."

" Oh, no, thank you, I have no wish to get myself into an
action for libel, and I should think that Mr. Hepburn could
be horribly vindictive. But when, on a not very dark
night, and with a very quiet horse, a man knocks another
down in the middle of the road, without seeing him, I don't
require to be told what is the most likely explanation. Do
you, Mrs. Watson ? "

Mrs. Watson compressed her lips, and shook her head
with a volume of mysterious e;^pression. *'I nuist say,"
she replied, '* I think it is all very well to say poor Mr.
Cruickshanks lost his temper ; but for my part I consider
he must have kept it remarkably well, or he could have said
a great deal more."

*' Merciful powers," exclaimed Mrs. Campbell, " what a
delightfully wicked minister you have got. I shall live in
a state of delicious excitement, expecting every day to hear
of some dreadful catastrophe."

" Don't say such a thing," put in Miss Muir. '■ It sounds
like a sort of omen. People are saying it is a good thing
Lady Ellinor Farquharson is gone away for a time ; but
indeed I am not sure that it is. She at least is away from
the town, and not one of the congregation. Things might
be worse."

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, however,
(12)

182

James Hepburn.

n
■

i !

ill gossip, as wf;!! as in oth(;r things, and not even Miss
Muir's gloomy portentous forebodings could be accepted as
full inderaniHcation for the satisfaction which would have
been derived from watching Lady Ellinor and the minister.
To Mrs. Campbell, not behind most women of her class in a
craving for notoriety, the idea soon presented itself of find-
ing some indemnification for this deprivation, and at the
same time of achieving fame, by twitting Mr. Hepburn
with his hopeless ission, and reputation for gallantry. It
was quite clear to her that every one else was afraid to do
so. *• Did you hear what Mrs. Campbell did ? I could not
have believed any woman could have had the audacity."
" By Jove, Campbell, your wife is the most courageous
woman I ever heard of." These were the things she
pictured to herself being repeated about Mossgiel, and in
defauii. of anything better, even this amount of fame seemed
to be worth an effort to secure.

It was not immediately that fortune favoured her enter-
prise. The minister manifested a tantalizing ingenuity in
coming across her just under the wrong conditions for her
attempt. But at length >^(\e chanced to meet him rather
suddenly at the corner of a street, and at once assuming an
air of playful consternation, she exclaimed —

" Oh, Mr. Hepburn, I am quite afraid to be seen speak-
ing to you."

Mr. Hepburn looked down upon her with a smile of
benevolent toleratio?-. If he had ever catalogued her at all,
it was as a pretty empty-headed little woman, whom it w^as
passing strange that a man of her husband's age and dispo-
sition should ever have dreamed of placing in a position
enabling her to harrass him daily with wearisome trivialities.
He replied, with just a shade of sarcasm in his tone —

" Are you ? I should not have expected to find you so
timorous." .

James Hephun).

183

She winced slightly, but answered gaily, '* It is very seri-
ous. If my husband were to see me he would beat nie with
a big stick."

" Let us hope then, he is safely afar."

" Oh, yes, he is safe enough in his office. But other peo-
ple might see me, and then what would become of my
character 'i You dangerous man ! "

A slight contraction of the brow was all that betrayed
the minister's dawning perception of her drift, as he replied
gravely —

" I am sorry you place yourself in the category of those
whose characters are so fragile as to be likely to suffer
injury through speaking to anyone for a moment in the
public street."

" What an ungallant speech, not worthy of you. I am
sure my character is excellent ; a slight inclination to gad-
ding about and chattering excepted," retorted Mrs. Camp-
bell, who did not feel that she was getting on.

" Let me then recommend to you the apostolic injunction
to young women to be keepers at home."

" And not be adorned, I suppose, with plaiting of hair,
and wearing of gold, and, shall we say " — and she looked
up at him with an affected air of hidden meaning — " put-
ting on of paint."

She shrank before the glance she encountered — one which
in a bad man would have been bold and insolent ; in James
Hepburn it was simply cold and hard, but his manner was
gravely courteous.

" I should certainly not have suspected you of using
paint, Mrs. Campbell. I most strongly advise you to dis-
continue the practice. It is, I am sure, as degrading to the
moral character as it is injurious to the physical health.
Good morning."

I •

184

Jarrvea Hepburn.

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Slightly raiHing his hat, he was gone liefore she had time,
even could she have found words, to reply. Fame did not
blow her trumpet in Mossgiel on Mrs. Campbell's account.
That interview remained wholly unreported. But Mrs.
Campbell's varying colour, whenever she met Mr. Hepburn
for some time afterwards, fully acquitted her of all suspicion
on the subject of her complexion.

Mr. Cruickshanks had gone home from the meeting curs-
ing his own folly for losing his temper. He had great faith
in the beneficial results of his own suavity — his tact, as he
called it — and was convinced that a man who lost his temper,
and said sharp things, invariably did himself more mischief
than he did anyone else. He was not without grounds for
his opinion. The cold sneers which he was prone to utter
in his blandest tones had often irritated antagonists into
incautious outbursts which he had known how to use to his
own advantage. Being an elder, he was not slow to expect
to receive the same measure he meted to others, Jle kept
himself very invisible for the next few days, fully expecting
to be called upon to make some sort of reparation or apology.

That proposition had been brought forward.

" We ought to do something," Mr. Watson said to Mr.
Laing. " The thing ought not to be allowed to pass un-
noticed."

•* I don't see what can be done that would not produce
more harm than good. However, get two or three of the
most sensible of those who were present to come with you
to my house one evening, and we will talk the matter over."

This irregular sort of meeting was accordingly held,
unknown to either the minister or Mr. Cruickshanks, and
quite unsuspected by watchful wives. Mr. Rutherford
spoke in great excitement —

" It's just the maist disgracefu' attack on a minister I

JamfM Jiepbum.

185

ever heard. An' though we're no ju«t a regular meeting, I
would beg to move that Mr. Cruickshanks be required to
apologize, or resign the eldership."

" Yes," said Mr. Watson, " I think that is the least we
can do. Quite apart from all question of truth or falsehood,
the time and circumstances rendered such an attack a most
blackguard proceeding. I most gladly second Mr. Ruther-
ford's motion."

"Stop a bit," put in Mr. Laing, " you are going too fast.
You can't move in the matter without doing more harm
than good."

*' I don't see that," said Mr. Watson.

" My dear fellow, don't you see, though no names were
actually mentioned, we've got a woman's name for all that
mixed up in the business. When that is the case always
let a scandal drop if you possibly can. I know Hepburn's
sentiments well, and I know by taking the least step in the
matter you will only cause him extreme annoyance."

*' But we ought to get rid of Cruickshanks," remonstrated
Mr. Watson. " A fellow capable of such conduct ought
not to be an elder. We can't get rid of him if we take no
notice of the matter."

" Leave him alone. He'll get himself into trouble one of
these days, or I'm much mistaken. Then we shall get rid
of him. No one would be better pleased than I should to
see him come to grief, but not at the cost of any further
annoyance to Hepburn."

Mr. Laing won at last a reluctant acquiescence in his
view of the question, granted far more in the conviction of
his perfect acquaintance with Mr. Hepburn's feelings, which
it would be most ungracious to disregard, than in much
heed of the more chivalrous argument he had put forward,
and thus the matter was allowed to rest.

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186

Jainen Hepbwm.

Then, after a few days' waiting, Mr. Cruickshanks began
to realize his good fortune, and to see how to turn a candid
admission of his error to good account. He had naturally
discussed the matter confidentially with Mrs. Watson, re-
ceiving that estimable woman's sympathy, and assurances of
her regret that Mr. Watson had not taken a different view
of the matter.

" I was wrong," he said, " very wrong. That I candidly
allow. I hope I am the last man to refuse to acknowledge
a fault. I was annoyed at myself afterwards, for though I
had had much during the day to try me, I could not have
believed momentary anger at an insinuation, not quite per-
ceptible to the other gentlemen present, could have thrown
me so completely off my guard. In fact, so unpardonable
do I feel my own conduct to have been, that I confess I am
amazed, indeed startled, that I have never been called upon
to apologize. There were many gentlemen present, notably,
my dear madam, your esteemed husband, who would not
have been slow to resent an unmerited insult to a minister ;
and if the accusation was untrue, it was a gross insult.
How am I to understand the fact of no explanation or
apology being claimed ? "

*'True, quite true," replied Mrs. Watson. "There is no
explanation, save that there was too much truth in your
words to let it be advisable to take any notice of them.
Well, Mr. Cruickshanks, of one thing you may be certain,
you have the sympathy and cordial goodwill of a great
many n^ore people in Mossgiel than you are aware."

Mr. Cruickshanks made his acknowledgments with such
a charming mixture of honied sweetness and respectful
deference, that Mrs. Watson, half an hour afterwards, was
remarking to Mrs. Campbell that it was a thousand pities
he "kept a shop." That his manner was really so good,

Jamffi Hepburn.

187

and be talked so well, he would positively be quite an acqui-
sition sometimes at a dinner party.

" My dear Mrs. Watson," exclaimed Mrs. Campbell,
" you must not tliink of such a thing. I have nothing to
say against the man ; but in these levelling days we must
be careful. My mother was a most liberal person, but she
always drew the line at retail traders. I have always drawn
the line there myself. We must stop somewhere."

" Oh, yes, I know it would not do," sighed Mrs. Watson,
" We are all bound to remember our duty to society. Still,
it is a pity."

This little personal episode between minister and elder,
coupled with the innocent Machiavellianism of James Hep-
burn's steady refusal to express an opinion, or even declare
the nature of his admitted preference, played no unimportant
part in the great hymnal agitation of the next few weeks.
In Mossgiel, as elsewhere, it was a turbulent, noisy few,
uneasily conscious that by no other means could they make
themselves of any importance, who lashed into foam the
surface of things by industrious threshing, and then loudly
proclaimed that the fountains of the great deep were broken
up. Such a party is pretty sure to be inimical to any
minister whose personal qualities give him weight, and the
agitators of the Free Church in Mossgiel were just the party
who did not like their minister. He had various habits
which were irritating to them, such as presupposing some
little superficial acquaintance with the current literary,
artistic, or scientific topics of the day, and carrying conver-
sation off in directions which doomed them to the insignifi-
cance of silence. But, worst of all, he possessed some- private
fortune, a defect hard to bear with in the minister of a free
and independent congregation.

To have carried the hymnal question in opposition to his

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188

Janu's Uephuni.

views by a judicious use of the scourge of his "pleasant
vices" would have been wholesome medicine for him — a
pious satisfaction to orthodox souls. But then, what were
his views 1 He kept that secret closely locked in his own
bosom, and thus paralyzed the right hand of the foe. Some
of the most energetic of the agitators on both sides were
nearly as anxious to show him — to use their own phrase-
that he was not quite so important a person as he considered
himself as to carry their point, and felt that their victory
would lose half its charm did it turn out that it was his
victory also. The possibility hung like a dead weight upon
their energy, and crippled their efforts in the most disastrous
manner.

When, therefore, the time for the congregational meeting
arrived, it soon became evident that the edifying spectacle
of a Christian congregation rending one another with uncom-
promising ardour, on account of a very small difference of
opinion, was not to be presented to the gaze of outsiders.
Mr. Cruickshanks had been unpleasantly subdued by some
disagreeably candid remarks on the desirability of keeping
his temper; because, "that sort of thing is monstrously
unpleasant for us all, you know, and we shall not stand
many repetitions." Mrs. Watson, who would have loyally
seconded him, had been somewhat promptly dealt with.
There is oftimes fully as much laziness as weakness in
marital submission, and on this subject Mr. Watson had
been firm, and had spoken in a tone which his wife very
well understood.

•'You can give your vote, but I will not have you take
any prominent part in the affair. Of course, we vote against
the hymn-book, and for all he professes to keep in the back-
ground, everyone knows Cruickshanks is the real leader of
the opposition. I am by no means quite satisfied about that

James Hepburn.

189

gentleman, and I do not' choose that my wife should seem to
be specially associated with him."

" My dear William, how can you say such things 1 I am
sure he is a most worthy, estimable man ! What do you
know against him ? "

" That's neither here nor there. I never said I knew
anything against him. You are quite welcome to your
opinion, so long as you do not publicly associate yourself
with him."

" Well, I am sure I think the whole place has grown very
fond of scandal, all of a sudden."

" I believe you are right there. Since you women indus-
triously kept that nonsense going about Hepburn and Lady
Ellinor, the whole town has seemed to be a hot-bed of
scandal."

" I wonder to hear you talk such nonsense, William."

" Perhaps. But meantime you had better get ready, or
you will be too late, perhaps, to vote at all."

In this way all the explosive elements reached the church
in a depressingly damp state. They might sputter or smoke,
but it was quite clear that there was little chance of infusion
of energy into the proceedings, through the exciting influence
of any startling display of rhetorical or other fire works-
When at last the question was put to the vote, the minister
and elders looked at each other in some surprise. The show
of hands, on either side, was very small, compared with the
numbers present.

The tellers reported that the noes had it, but Mr. Hepburn
rose at once.

" T think you will all agree that it is impossible we should
accept this decision as expressive of the wishes of the con-
^^regation. But a fraction of those present have voted at
all. It seems to me that there is some other resolution
which the majority are anxious to hear proposed."

» \

I'j'.

I i

190

James Hephwm.

There was a subdued murmur and rustle, and a little
whispering, and a drawing together of heads, in one or two
(}uarters, as if for consultation. But after a space of patient
waiting, nothing seemed to come of it.

** Amazingly chilly moral atmosphere this," said Mr.
Laing, under his breath, to the minister. " It is really re-
markable how hard it is to get people to be energetic about
anything save a quarrel. The burning question seems to
have gone out all of a sudden, and left nothing but cool
ashes. Eh ! What ? "

This in answer to a gentle pull of the coat-sleeve from
Mr. Rutherford, with whom he then held a few moments'
whispered conference, which Mr. Rutherford ended by say-
ing aloud —

" Na, na, sir, ye're a better speaker than me, just say it
yersel' ! "

Thus urged Mr. Laing rose — "I have been asked," he
said, " to move that what seems to me a very sensible pro-
posal to put to the vote. It is very clear that, for some
reason, the present moment is not auspicious for settling the
question of the proposed change. I would, therefore, suggest
that the question be put — Shall this meeting be adjourned
tc this day six months ? "

" Put it sine die" said Mr. "Watson.

" That's giving it to the noes. We could have done that
at first," retorted Mr. Laing.

Half-a-dozen supporters had jumped up to second the
resolution, and a sort of stir passed over the assembly — that
kind of movement which indicates that a crisis is over, and
people are breathing freely once more.

Without the amendment the question was put, and there
was little need to count hands. The wish of the ma.jority,
by whatever motive prompted, was abundantly demon-

Janiea Hepburn.

191

) done that

strated. The great hymnal question had proved a veritable
mountain in labour, and had brought forth the insignificant
mouse of an adjournment to that day six months. After
achieving this magnificent result, the assembly dispersed in
various states of satisfaction, indignation, or disgust.

Half-an-hour later Mr. Laing was in Mrs. Tweedie's
drawing-room. Mrs. Tweedie had refused to attend the
meeting.

" I could not go," she had said. ** I feel so horribly
afraid of what may happen."

" Never was such a fiasco," he said. "If any congrega-
tion may be collectively written down an ass, it is the Free
Church congregation in Mossgiel. Here have we been wor-
ried for months about this business, and this is the end of it."

" I am so thankful," said Mrs. Tweedie, with a sigh of
relief. " But I am still more surprised. I can't understand
it."

" So much for results, when a noisy minority are brought
to book. It is Hepburn has done it, though I doubt
whether he knows that himself — he and Cruickshanks be-
tween them. Cruickshanks has always hated him ; he
hates him worse now, just because he has done, or tried to
do, him an injury. He couldn't fight his own battle heartily,
because he was not quite certain it was not Hepburn's bat-
tle ; and Hepburn's own admission that he had rather the
question had not come on at present just gave the quiet,
peace-loving part of the congregation their cue. They were
really ready to vote any way for the sake of peace, and felt
sure they would be right in following Hepburn's lead."

" Poor Mr. Hepburn," sighed Mrs. Tweedie.

" Don't say poor," replied Mr. Laing, a sudden gravity
replacing his usual half-bantering manner. " That man has
raised the whole tone of the place already, merely by the in-

V Hr

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192

James Hepburn.

fluence of his personal character. All this turmoil is just
the seething and working of the scum. He'll have a fight
for it yet, but, mark my words, if Hepburn's life is spared,
he'll hold a position in this town one of these days such as
no minister ever held here before — such as few ministers
hold anywhere — just because there are so few of his stamp."

Mrs. Tweedie laid down her work, and looked thought-
fully into the fire. " Will not this scandal about Lady
Ellinor do him mischief ? "

" Not a bit. My dear lady, not a soul really believes it.
They are only trying to persuade themselves and others they
believe it, because they wish it was true. It will all die
out, even if the poor girl does not go off with Sir Maurice
Adair, which I sorely dread she will do some day, if that
old fool, her husband, does not look out."

" Oh, God forbid."

'^ Amen. But I can only say it as a hearty wish, not
with any strong confidence.'"

He Y * ,i her good-night with the words. But often, in
after da;^^*, did that brief conversation come back to Mrs.
Tweedie's mind.

Jaines Hepburn.

193

Chaptbr XV.

A NEW REVELATION.

ONE fine morning in the early spring, Mr. Hepburn was
standing before his study fire, Mrith an open letter in
his hand and an expression of extremely puzzled surprise
on his face. The purport of the letter was to inform him
that Mrs. Munro, of Glenavon, wished to see him upon a
matter of very grave importance, and to beg that he would
name any day when it would be convenient to him to lunch
at Glenavon, and say at what hour he would wish a carriage
to meet him at Avonside Station.
t Munro, of Glenavon ! The name seemed familiar to him,
and yet he could not recall when or where he had heard it.
Then a cell of his memory opened and let forth the sentence
— " Mrs. Munro struck in just in time ; " and putting on
his hat, he went in search of Mr. Laing, whom he found at
breakfast.

" Who is Mrs. Munro ? " he asked, as soon as he was
seated.

" Mrs. Munro, of Glenavon ? "

" I suppose so. She writes from Glenavon."

" To you ? "

" Yes."

" What on earth is up now, Hepburn ? She is a staunch
Roman Catholic."

For all his answer, James Hepburn handed him the let-
ter he had received. Mr. Laing read it through deliberately

" My dear fellow, your fortune is made ! She has clearly
seen the error of her ways, and wishes to be received into

194

JairwH Hephiim.

r f:,

the Free Cdurcli. it's a pity we haven't a deanery or bish-
opric to give you. You'll be Moderator of the General
Assembly directly."

" Is she the Mrs. Munro you spoke of that night after the
ball?"

*' The same, and a most charming old lady. Do have
something to eat, Hepburn. I should not feel as if it was
half so near eleven, if you would have some breakfast."

" Thank you. I never lunch so early, and 1 am going
away, so you can continue your breakfast in peace."

What possible matter of grave importance could there be
in which there could be any point of contact for a member
of one of the old Roman Catholic families of the country,
and a Free Church minister 1 James Hepburn pondered
over that problem almost unceasingly, but in vain. He
started on his expedition without any possible solution
thereof having presented itself.

A staid and dignified old butler came forward as tlie car-
riage drove up and the footman opened the door ; and with
a not unnecessary request that Mr. Hepburn would look
well to his footing across the polished oak floor of the hall,
led the way to the drawing-room.

Mrs. Munro came forward to receive him, and he all but
stopped dead to gaze in bewildered admiration. Even Lady
Ellinor Farquharson, he thought, must yield the palm to
this vision of beautiful old age. Her dress was very sim-
ple, but of rich material, with costly white lace at the throat
and wrists. A cap of the same almost seemed to blend
with her snow-white hair, above delicately chiselled features,
and soft dark eyes, which were clear and bright as a child's
might be. She welcomed her visitor with a perfe t ' 'ng-
ling of graceful cordiality and stately dignity.

*• It is very kind of you Mr. Hepburn," she said, " to

li'^

JtuiwA Hepbiuni.

lO.*)

comply 80 readily with my request. 1 only liop»» I have not
made too ^reat a demand on time which must be very
valuable." •

James Hepburn had all the qualitications for a courtier.
The presence of such a woman as Mrs. Munro made him one
on the spot. " I am only too happy to obey your summons,"
he said, " though I confess I am puzxlod to imagine what
commands you can have to lay upon me."

" Ah, we will speak of that after luncheon, which will
soon be ready. Have you ever been at Glenavon before ? "

"Never nearer than the railway station. It is very
beautiful."

" Not so beautiful, I am told, as the country in your
neighbourhood. I have never been in that direction. We
go out very little. People think it is from pride and exclu-
siveness, but it is not so. Since my great sorrow, I mean
the death of my only daughter at eighteen years of age, I
have felt little inclined for society. When a great sorrow
comes we feel how hollow and artificial it all is. I went to
the election ball."

" That would hardly be enjoyable to you, I should think,"
he said, trying mentally to picture her in such a scene as
the ball-room of a country town, filled with a somewhat
promiscuous assembly.

" Well, no." Then after a pause, she added, " I do not
think Scottish women have good taste in dress."

" So I am told. I am no judge. I have seen too little of
any other style of dress to be able to form a comparison."

" You have never travelled 1 "

" I was once in London. Otherwise I have never crossed
the border."

" Eeally. Yet you do not look — you will understand
what I mean — home bred. How is that ? Ah, I remember.

196

JanwH Hfpfntm.

ft. '

, I'fl*.

You Mr» an a<>cotn{)Ii8limI Hcliolarand linguiHt. That alwayK
makes a luaii coHinopolitan." Then Huddenly changing to
French, she said — " They tell nie you speak French very
well. Is it go?"

" You must judge," he answered in French. " I was very
fortunate in having an excellent teacher when I was a mere
child."

" Yes," she replied, " it is good. A slight foreign accent.
But that is no consequence where it is the accent of refined,
well-educated people. Shall we go to luncheon ? I think
it is ready. I am all alone to-day," she added, as they
crossed the hall. ** Mr. Munro is away from home."

She kept up a light conversation during luncheon, easily
f^nd naturally bending it in such directions as should make
the superiority of his attainments over her own apparent.
He only felt that she was a most agreeable hostess ; he was
not in the least aware how thoroughly she was making him
show himself to the best advantage.

" I am not at home this afternoon," she said to the
butler as they left the dining-room. '' Bring coffee when I
ring.

" And now, Mr. Hepburn," she said, as she reseated her-
self in the drawing-room, " Have you really no suspicion
why I asked you to call upon me ? "

" Not the very slightest."

" Whom do you know about Mossgiel ? "

" Beyond the town ? "

"Yes."

" Besides some members of my own congregation, only
General and Lady EUinor Farquharson."

« No one else ? "

"No." ^

" Not Sir Maurice Adair ? "

I'i ■ ■ Hi

Jamea Hepburn.

11)7

H« flushed suddenly. A half-suipicit ;i of what was com-
ing darted acroHH his mind. " I have niet him/' he said,
"at Strathellon. I can hardly say I know him."

She was watching him closely. '* Ah, you have met hiro
at Htrathellon. Does not that help you to understand what
is in my thoughts ? "

'* Coupled with what I heard of you at the ball, Mrs.
Munro, I fear it does. 8till I am quite at a loss to under-
stand why that should have made you send tor me to come
to you."

" Well, I must tell you. You know we women talk a
good deal to our maids, sometimes. People say we gossip.
Perhaps so. fiut if the maids are of the right sort, it is
useful occasionally. My maid and Lady Ellinor Farquhar-
son's are great friends, notwithstanding that they are always
trying to convert each other. Lady EUinor's maid is always
talking about you. She thinks you infallible. I um sure you
have Popes in your church. No Catholic could revere the
Holy Father more than she does you."

" I hope it is only my misfortune, I don't think it is my
fault."

" It is a useful misfortune," she replied, smiling, " since
it led her to speak so much of you, and, in confirmation of
her opinion, to say how much Lady Ellinor herself a'l mired
and respected you."

" Mrs. Munro," he said, with some little agitation, " what
is it you have in your mind ? "

" To urge, to implore you, to make a great effort to save
her ere it is too late. You have seen Sir Maurice Adair,
you say ? "

" Yes."

" Then you know how dangerous he is."

" Mr. Laing told me about the ball."
(13)

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i}.

f U

198

James Hepburn.

Ah, it was very sad."

'* But surely there is no danger at present. They are not
meeting now."

" They are simply staying in the same house in England."

" Is it really so ? "

" It is, indeed. General Farquharson must he mad."

" And yet he loves her dearly."

" He adores her. But he never lets her see it. Oh, it is
a terrible thing when military discipline gets hold of a man's
feelings. Perhaps, too, having married so late, he is a little
afraid of appearing ridiculous. But whatever be the cause,
the fact is certain. She is young, full of life and lire and
feeling, and he treats her with a sort of calm parental aflTec-
tion. Sir Maurice Adair is madly in love with her. To do
him justice, I believe he has struggled hard, as hard as she
is bcill strugglinfj. He has not the courage to keep away
from her ; and what man could help loving her ? She is so
true, so generous, sq good. She is disappointed and un-
happy ; Sir Maurice knows it. He is very lovable, he
adores her ; and he believes, as she does, that General Far-
quharson is by nature too cold to have anything more than
a mild affection for his wife. Oh, Mr. Hepburn, there can
be but one ending, if something is not done — an ending of
lasting wretchedness for my beautiful Lady Ellinor ! "

Her cheek had flushed, and she had kindled almost into
vehemence. James Hepburn had grown very pale, and his
« ice was a trifle hoarse, as he asked —

" What can be done ? "

" What can be done, must be done by } ou. There is no
one else. They are soon coming back. You must go to her.
You have her confidence, and regard. As a messenger from
heaven you must warn, implore, entreat her, while there is
yet time to save her from the dreadful fate hanging over her."

James Hppfntrn.

199

He started up, and began to pace hurriedly up and down
the room. The drops were standing on his forehead in his
agitation. She watched him in silence, with intense earnest-
ness. At length he came and stood near her.

'* You are putting too much upon me," he said. " How
can I do this thing ? I who know nothing of women."

" You are strong and true. Such men are always gentle
to women."

" Yes, in intention. But 1 have no courtly manners and
phrases. I am a rough son of the people. How can such
a man put the warning you would have me give into such
words as will not seem to her coarse and brutal ? I shall
only rouse her deep resentment, and make her feel — "

" Hush," and she rose from her seat, and laid her still
beautiful hand upon his arm, looking at him with eyes that
seemed to pierce his very soul, as she said, in a low, solemn
voice —

" You must make her feel that John the Baptist is risen
from the dead."

He sat down in the chair from which he had risen, and
buried his face in his hands. After a brief silence, she spoke
again in her low, musical voice —

" I bid you do this thing, because it is the only thing that
can be done, and because you can do it with the best chance
of success. Do you think I am asking you to do what I
would not do myself, but for the conviction that your influ-
ence will be more powerful ? I have heard of you, Mr.
Hepburn. I know what you are, and I know what women
are. Believe me, no one can influence a woman of Lady
Ellinor Farquharson's temperament so powerfully as a man,
at once strong and tender, whose own life is perfectly pure,
and who will plead with all the passionate earnestness in-
spired by his own deep pain at the thought that any woman
can sink to such a wretched fate."

200

•I"

Jarnes Hephnm.

He heard every word she said, and he heard, with the
inner ear, something else. He heard his own voice saying —
" Depend upon ;t, if the chance be given to warn her with-
out doinp' more liarm than good, I will not be found want
ing." And he knew that the hour was come. He raised
his head at length, and said calmly and iirmly —

" I will do your bidding, Mis:. Munro. I may not re-
fuse. God grant that you may prove a messenger from
heaven, and that it may be given to me to speak, not only
earnestly, but wisely."

" Have no fear," she replied ; " you will fail in neither
wisdom nor earnestness. And if you fail of success you
will feel only deep sorrow, unembittered by any remorse,
that you did not attempt to interpose the shield of a pure
and honourable devotion between a beautiful and cruelly-
tried woman and a genuine, if unholy passion."

He looked at her with a startled expression. " A pure
;uid honourable devotion," he repeated.

" Yes, Mr. Hepburn. You love Lady Ellinor Farquhar-
son."

" Surely that is hardly the right word."

" You would lay down your life for her ? "

" Assuredly," he answered, with a curious vision of the
time, place, and speaker, recalled by the question.

" And is not that love ? You would not call it so before
the world, because to the evil all things are evil ; and you
know that it is a love which would never call up in your
mind a thought you would blush to own. It is just because
of that love you can save her. Only love can save."

He hastily rose. " Mrs. Munro," he said, " I am a
blunt, unpolished man. You have laid on me a charge I
could not answer before God and my own conscience, if I
declined. But you must let me go away now. I cannot

James Hepburn.

201

sion of the

wpar a mask and talk carelessly about other things, when
my soul is tilled with strange and perplexing thoughts. I
must be alone now and think. You have greatly startled me."

" Please ring the bell," she quietly replied. *' I will
order the carriage."

" No, thank you. I shall greatly prefer to walk."

" Good-bye, then, and may God prosper your mission.
If it is given to you to succeed, Mr. Hepburn, you will
know a deep and lasting joy that will brighten all your
future life."

In a few mcii^ents James Hepburn was on his way back
to the station, going mechanically in the right direction
with very little consciousness of any deliberate volition in
the matter. And when he found himself in his study he
had very little distinct remembrance of how he got there.
"Only love can save." In all the wide expanse of his
powerful mind there seemed to be room but for a fragment
of the thoughts that came crowding round that simple sen-
tence. The quiet, gentle Frenchwoman, to whom the most
of his brethren would have gone with an ardent desire to
convert her from the error of her ways, had given him a
lesson of life-long import ; had thrown a ray of fresh light
upon the great leading feature of the teaching of Chris-
tianity, and had suggested a startling solution of the prob-
lem on which he had often meditated since the night of his
nearly fatal encounter with Robert Blackwood.

" Only love can save." Could he look around him and
marvel that the churches seemed so rarely to have any mes-
sage for those lost sheep which had been of yore the first to
listen to the Master's voice ? He thought of the ofttimes
well-merited taunt, that those mysterious directions received
in response to private prayer, always pointed in the direc-
tion of better stipends ; of ministers aiming only at popu-

■iii

If kV'.

P ♦■■•<

','■■•'

If*-.
^fe-

I' ' I*

>.;!i''

202

James Hepburn.

larity through torrents of fluent declamation or highly-
coloured rhetoric ; of others whom he had known, openly
alleging as a reason for seeking a change of abode that the
society around was not good enough for them or their wives
— or giving their whole time to promotion of fierce theo-
logical wrangling. Where did they manifest the love that
could save ? Were their hearts yearning over the sins and
sorrow surrounding them on every side ? Were they not
rather a very canker, eating out the life of the churches,
devouring the churches' substance and leaving their work
undone ? Were they not hirelings whose voices the sheep
would never hear ? How could they hope to seek and save
that which is lost, so long as self-interest, self-gratification
or ambition were the guiding principles of their lives 1

From that simple sentence also a light seemed to stream
upon his own relations to Robert Blackwood. He was too
thoroughly honest to the very heart's core to seek in a spirit
of morbid unreal humility to deny to himself any credit
whiqh was fairly his due. He had become aware that he
had won a stronger hold upon the man than anyone else had
ever done. Blackwood himself ha.d explained the reason.
" I heard ye ca' me * brither,' and nae in the way ministers
are aye sayin* ' dear brethren ' frae the pulpit, wi' nae roair
meanin' than a parrot's chatter. I'll ne'er forget it." That
simple word had brought the love that can save home to the
heart of one of the outcasts, and even if it had not availed
to cast out the legion of devils that were reigning there,
they at least had been powerless to cast out wholly its sav-
ing influence, and the end had not come yet. He sat far
into the night thinking, thinking, until his head ached with
the strain ; and he went to his bed at last, by no means a
new man, but more fully conscious what manner of man he
was than he had ever been before, and with an added sense
of heavy responsibility resting upon him.

Jarrvea Hepburn.

203

Chapter XVI.

DANGER INCREASING.

HE had pledged himself to undertake the charge laid
upon him, and no thought of shrinking back ever
crossed his mind. But how best to execute his task, was a
question over which he pondered through many a wakeful
hour. General and Lady Ellinor Farquharson had not yet
returned to Strathellon, although they were expected shortly,
so he had time for reflection ; in all such cases, probably, a
doubtful advantage. Who has ever yet pondered deeply
over some momentous interview, and in the end said any-
thing in the least approaching the formula he had marked
out for himself ?

The pregnant thoughts with which his mind was filled
were not without their effect upon his outward bearing.
That effect was described in several varied phrases, accord-
ing to the colour of the mental spectacles through which he
was regarded.

" He looks grave and anxious," Mrs. Tweedie remarked
to Mr. Laing. " Do you think he is worrying himself about
all these stupid stories, now that the Farquharsons are com-
ing back ? "

" I don't think so," replied Mr. Laing, his thoughts flying
off, as they frequently did, to that strange summons to
Glenavon, of which, with quiet tact he had refrained from
speaking, seeing that the minister was not disposed to in-
troduce the subject. " I daresay his digestion is out of
order. You must get Tweedie to take him in hand."

" The minister seems to me to look rather black and

(if'

,H^

204

Jfiines Hephiirv,

sulky," remarked Miss Muir to her constant ally Mrs.
H^igg* *' I really do begin to think he wanted the hymn
book introduced, and only would not say so because he
knew every one would be against him ; and that he is sulk-
ing over it."

" Mr. Hepburn looks far from lively," Mrs. Watson said
to Mr. Cruickshanks. "You may depend your arrow found
a joint in his armour."

" I could hardly term it a bow drawn at a venture,"
replied Mr. Cruickshanks. "Still, I feel what I should
call his dour look, is an additional confirmation of the some-
thing more than mere suspicion, which caused my remark.
Tt may yet bear fruit."

" He seems to me to be working more energetically than
ever," Mrs. Watson continued, "and I am sure he preaches
with more earnestness. No one could certainly ever have
accused him of not being a very hard worker, but I think
he is doing twice as much. Trj ing to make up for the false
steps he feels he has taken, I suppose."

The minister himself heard nothing of these various
theories. But one evening Mrs. Findlay herself appeared
in his study, and announced with an intonation of indignant
protest, that Robert Blackwood wished to speak to him.

Blackwood had too much of the quiet self-possession com-
mon among Scotchmen of his class, to sit on the extreme
edge of his chair, fidget with anything, v. - otherwise mani-
fest clumsily awkward indications of embarrassment ; but
Mr. Hepburn detected instantly that he was slightly
embarrassed, and took the initiative.

" You have something you wish to say to me, Blackwood,
I see. Draw up your chair to the fire, and make yourself
quite at home. You have not been getting into trouble,
my lad, have you ?"

JameM Hepburn.

206

" Nae, sir, I'm in nae trouble, sav** for the fear ya may
think I'm ower fond o' interferin' in yer attairs."

"You did me far too great a service, Blackwood," the
minister answered frankly, " the last time you did that, to
let me feel any touchiness about that matter. In truth you
did a service to both Lady Ellinor and me. Of course you
have heard of Mr. Cruickshanks' attack upon me. But for
your warning, I should not have had the slightest suspicion
what he meant, and might very possibly have answered in
a way which would have drawn forth some more direct
reference to Lady Ellinor. That would have been a most
unfortunate thing."

" I'm proud to hear ye say it, sir. An' its just aboot that
business I wad mak' bold to speak to ye the noo. Folk is
a' sayin', an' I canna but see it's the truth, that ye are
lookin' gey serious, whiles, the noo, an' sometimes a bit
troubled an' anxious. We dinna ken, doun in our pairts o'
the toun, a' that gangs on, but the thocht cam' to me that
maybe that slithery auld deevil Cruickshanks was makin'
trouble for ye. Syne I got that in my heid I felt I couldna
rest until I'd tauld ye that if that's the way of it, I can pit
a stapper on his tongue ony day ; an' ye've but to say the
word if ye wish it dune."

" Then it is true." But feeling he was thinking aloud
Mr. Hepburn stopped abruptly.

" What will be true, sir ? "

" I mean that your declaration seems to imply the truth
of a good deal I have heard rumoured ?"

" I dinna ken what ye may have heard, sir, an' I've nae
wish to say mair. I think it wad be just as weel for yersel
that ye dinna ask me to explain. I wadna say but ye might
feel in an awkward position. I've nae wish either to harm
Cruickshanks, auld hypocrite though he is. I've had his

206

Ja/mes Hepburn.

money, an' he's been fair though hard wi' me. It wad be
ill for me to do him a bad turn just through spite. But eh,
minister, ye'U nae do muckle amang sinners like me, sae
lang as ye hae men like yon in the eldership. We ken the
hypocrites, if ye dinna ken them. Can ye think what it's
like to us to see men like yon gangin' on Communion Sab-
bath sae sleek and sanctimonious to the kirk, in the black
and white, and dispensin' the elements, whiles maybe to ane
they've sworn at soundly through the week 1 "

Mr. Hepburn turned upon him sharply. " None of that,
Blackwood. We ministers are powerless there. If you
sinners would come and stand boldly by us, we would very
soon rid the church of that scandal. You hold back, and
you know it, because you are not ready to give up evil
habits, which the church requires you to give up. You,
personally, have not the will ; others of your class have not
the chance to play the hypocrite. Thus you stand clear and
leave those who have both will and chance to press in.
Then because your consciences tell you you are wrong, you
point to the very evil you are causing as a reason for hold-
ing aloof."

" Eh, minister," replied the man, " but I like to hear ye
hit oot wi' yer tongue, though I'm no sayin' ye're a'thegither
richt ; but that's neither here nor there. But, as I was
sayin', I've nae mind to do the man ony mischief through
spite ; but I ken weel eneuch he has nae love for ye. He
doubts ye ken or suspect too muckle. 1 misdoubt he'd be
glad eneuch to do you an ill turn ; an' if that's what he's at
the noo, an' it's causin' ye trouble, ye've but to say the word,
an' I'll stop his tongue. An' ye'll ken weel eneuch, sir, ye've
nae cause to fear a soul shall ever ken a word has passed
between us."

" I believe that, Blackwood, most unhesitatingly. I

James Hephttm.

207

would trust my interests in your keeping right gladly at any
time ; and I thank you most heartily for the kind feeling
towards me which prompts your action. But you are
entirely mistaken. Cruickshanks may l>e trying to make
mischief for me ; indeed, judging from what I know of the
man, 1 should say the chances are that he is. But I have
no knowledge of the fact, if it is so. The causes of my pre-
sent anxiety, which I do not deny, lie in circumstances with
which I have no actual personal interest, and which are far
beyond Cruickshanks' power to influence. All tue same,
Blackwood, had it been as you suppose, I could not have
taken your oflf'er. I can hit out openly in self-defence, either
actually, as you know, or with my tongue. But however
much a man might be trying to injure me behind backs, I
could take no part in such a proceeding. It would be as
repugnant to me as a man, as I feel it would be unworthy
of the profession of a minister, to make any use of know-
ledge I might chance to possess that would be detrimental
to a man's general character, but which had no special bear-
ing on the point at issue, in order to cripple his power to
injure me."

Blackwood looked at him half defiantly. " Minister, did
I no ken ye're sic a splendid hitter, I wad say ye were just
a gomeril, giein' rogues a chance that gait. Ye maun e'en
fight the deil wi' his ain weapons whiles. An' I tell ye oot
fairly, I'll nae pit the question to ye again. I'll keep watch
for mysel' and if Cruickshanks tries to do ye an ill turn, I'll
mak* it the worst days' wark for him ever he set his han' to,
an' withoot giein' ye a chance to help or to hinder."

The minister smiled sadly. " Whatever you make up
your mind to do, Blackwood, I have no doubt you will do,
without consulting my wishes. But, remember, that come
what may, I shall always gratefully recall the feeling you

208

JaW'Pti Hephurn.

f* ',

«; li:

have shown towards me. The thought of your hoiu'st affec-
tion for me, my lad, has been often a cheering thought to
me in the midst of much discouragement."

For a moment the hahitual sullenness of the young man's
face passed away completely, and the minister then recog
nized fully for the first time how very handsome he was.
He looked at Mr. Hepburn with a wistful half^yearning
look. Then he started up, seized the minister's hand, wrung
it almost vehemently, and was gone before there was time
for another word.

Mr. Hepburn turned once more to his interrupted reading,
but he soon laid his book aside, and the anxious look which
had roused so many comments, gathered afresh upon his
face. He had seen the Strathellon omnibus pass that after-
noon full of servants and piled with luggage, and he knew
the fulfilment of his pledge could not be far distant. Only,
having heard that Sir Maurice Adair was not expected im-
mediately, he was resolved not to force an opportunity, but
to wait till one occurred of which he could take advantage
easily and naturally. He scanned his own motives sharply,
and pronounced himself clear of allowing inclination to in-
fluence judgment, although he was conscious of a certain
thankfulness for a reprieve.

A week and more had passed and then it seemed but
natural he should walk over and call at Strathellon, so he
started one fine afternoon. A young footman, a stranger to
him, appeared at the door and answered his question with
some apparent embarrassment and hesitation.

" I really, sir — I can't positively say if her ladyship is at

home. I If you'll be kind enough to step in, sir, I'll

inquire."

Rather wondering what this hesitation portended, Mr.
Hepburn followed the man to the drawing room which was

James Hephurn,

209

loiii'st affec-

einpty. Ho had not lioen long ulono when hu hoard a light
step, certainly not t!>e footman's, crossing the ante room,
and turning with the expectation of greeting Lady Ellinor
herself, saw enter the room her maid, Alison, very pale, hut
with a set, resolute expression on her face.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Alison," he said. "Is Lady
Ellinor Farquharson not at home I "

" My lady and the General are out riding, sir, and I hope
you'll excuse me. When I saw you coming up the drive I
told Edward not to say my lady was out, but to bring you
here that I might speak to you."

" Is anything wrong ? " asked the minister anxiously.
" You look much disturbed."

Alison struggled for a moment to answer (juietly. But
it was in vain. She burst into tears.

" Mrs. Alison, what is the matter '\ "

" I beg your pardon, sir," she sobbed, making desperate
efforts to recover her composure, " but my heart is like to
break. Would you please come a little this way, sir, so
that I can talk quietly to you, and keep my eye on the
door of the ante-room, that I may be sure no one comes
in."

Mr. Hepburn obeyed, saying gently but firmly as he did
so, " Now, sit down here and try and control yourself. I
see you are much agitated. You must try and tell me
quietly what is wrong and what I can do to help you."

She took the seat he indicated, and after a few moments'
silent struggle, said —

" It's about my lady, sir."

"Lady Ellinor?" and his heart gave a sudden, quick
throb.

" Yes, sir. Oh, Mr. Hepburn, I've known her since she
was five years old, for t was in the nursery before I was

210

JamfH Hephum.

ladioH* maid to the youn^ ladies, and I love her dearly. I
would die for lier to morrow, >ind what can I do ? Ahd I
Hcarce know how to tell you."

•• PerhapH it's hardly noccHsary for you to try. You arc^
anxious about »Sir Maurice Adair."

Alison gave a violent sttirt. " Oh, who told you '/ Do
people suspect ? "

" Nothing of consequence, I believe, though there has
V)een gossip about them ever since I have been in Mossgiel.
But some one who loves Lady Ellinor as much as you do
spoke to me about her, and made me prouiise to try and
save her."

" Ah, it was Mrs Munro. I know it was. The dear,
good lady. If ever there was a saint on earth she is one,
Roman Catholic or not."

"I will not say you are wrong, Mrs. Alison. I know
we may trust to you."

" And you will try to save her ? You don't know, Mr.
Hepburn, what a veneration my des' lady has for you.
I've heard her say as much again and again. And it's not
lightness, sir, nor vanity. She hasn't a bit of that about
her ; and I know she has struggled hard, but she's giving
way fast. I couldn't bear it any longer after what I saw
in England, and I made up my mind if I came to the
manse I'd see and speak to you as soon as I could."

"And I think," he said, "you may do your lady good
service if you would answer a few questions for me."

" That I will, sir. You wouldn't ask a question without
a good motive."

"With what feeling did she marry General Farquhar-
son ? "

"With just the sort of feeling he might have turned
into a deep love if he'd known how. She'd no very strong

Jttnit"* Ilfphtirn.

211

feeling about it, hut hIio know my lord liiid Indy wikIkhI it.
Of course it was a very j;oo<l marriage, aiul my lord knew
that the General's character was of the highest. He would
never have sacrificed a (hiughter. And r^ady Kllinor liked
him very much, and wan glad to please her parents. She
had never cared for anyone, so she did not know what love
meant."

*' And has she always l»een unhappy?"

*' 1 can hardly tell, sir. I am quite sure she soon began
to feel chilled and disappointed. The General is always so
stately and formal. I've no patience with him. 1 know
he loves her dearly, and if he would only show it she'd be
safe enough. Rut how is she to tind it out when he's al-
ways got his full dress parade manners on ? It's just
chilled back all her love for him. I never liked Sir Maurice
coming so much about the house. He's a man any woman
might love, I must say that for him. He's not a dissipated
profligate, and to do him justice I believe he has struggled
against the temptation as hard as my dear lady has. But
he believes, too, the General cares very little about her, and
would just get a divorce if my lady went away and be
quite happy with some one else."

" Good God ! has it come to that ? "

" no, sir, not in words. But that is what is in his
mind, I'm sure. Why, sir, I've heard them in the servants'
hall going on about the General's coldness. They all wor-
ship Lady Ellinor, and say he's no right to such a wife if he
can't be different to her. As I was saying, I always feared
Sir Maurice ; but when we were in England he came to the
place where we were staying, and then I could see he was
losing all control over himself. He's just madly in love with
her, and it just makes the contrast to the General all the
greater, and I know she's giving way. She's going to do

I 4

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212

James Hepburn.

what she's never done yet. She's going " — a sob choked the
words.

" Going to do what ? "

" Going to meet him in the woods to njorrow."

•' Meet him ! You do not mean he is back ? " exclaimed
the minister, in a startled tone.

*' Back ? Yes, sir. He wasn't to have been back for two
months. But back lie was before we'd been eight-and-forty
hours at Strathellon."

" And how do you know she's going to meet him t "

Alison hesitated a moment, and her colour deepened.

" Perhaps you'll blame me, sir," she said at length, " but
I can't help it. I just listened in this very ante-room, and
heard it. I don't care if it was wrong, if it helps me to save
my dear lady. It was just this way. I hadn't a notion my
lady wasn't alone, and I was coming to speak to her, and as
I came across the ante-room I heard his voice. 1 believed
he was hundreds of miles away, and the start made me stop
dead. Then I heard him say, ' You will come just this once,
will you not ? I will not ask it again.' Then I determined
I would listen, right or wrong. It came into my mind, in a
moment, that if she gave in I would come to you at once.
She wouldn't promise for a time, but he pleaded hard, and
at last she did, and she's going to meet him at three o'clock
to-morrow afternoon, at what's always been called * The
Trysting Place.' You know it, sir ? "

" Quite well."

" Well, I heard it all settled, and then I slipped away
and very soon I saw him riding . wn the approach. And
I made up my mind then I would see you. I was coming to
the manse this evening, sir. And, oh, you will try and stop
her ! " and the woman clasped her hands in an agony of
entreaty.

James Hepburn.

213

exclaimed

'• 1 will not try ; I will do it," he said through his
clenched teeth.

" Oh, God bless you, sir. If anyone can save my dear
darling lady, it is you. But now you'll please to tell me not
ji word more, sir. I've done my duty by my lady, but I'm
only her servant. I've no business to pry into these things.
I know you'll do the best man can do j and if you want any
information I can give you, you'll ask me, or tell me any-
thing you think I ought to do. But I won't discuss my
lady, even with you, sir, one bit beyond what is necessary
for her own sake. And now will you please not be offended
if I ask you to go away. It's drawing near the time my
lady and the General will likely be coming in ; and I
wouldn't like them to find you. If you'll let me show you
out through the conservatory, you can go by the footpath
through the shrubberies, and thrn they'll be safe not to meet
you."

" But the footman ? Will he not tell Lady Ellinor ? "

" Oh, no, sir ; I can keep that right."

" Good-bye, then, Mrs. Alison. All that I can say about
your listening is — thank God you did ; and thank God Lady
Ellinor has such a true and faithful friend always about

her."

" Thank you, sir," replied the woman quietly, as she
closed the conservatory door behind him.

" Only love can save." The words kept sounding in his
ears as he walked home. But did that imply that love
could always save ? Surely no mortal woman was ever en-
vironed by love so true and steadfast as Lady Ellinor Far-
quharson. But would it avail to save her from a love which
was as real of its kind as that which sought to interpose
between it and her ? That was in the future. For the
moment he was concerned only with the fact that he was
(14)

»«1

214

Jamen Hepburn.

; i:,.>

pledged, within twenty-four hours, to confront her, and for
the moment turn her from her perilous purpose. As to his
success there was no (juestion. He was at least her superior
in physical strength, and that strength should be used if by
no other means he could induce her to forego her intended
interview. What weighed with him most heavily was the
consciousness that the future results to her might in great
measure depend upon the manner in which he discharged
the commission laid upon him by every consideration of love
and duty. One only advantage he had gained from this
turn of circumstances : all hesitation about fitting time
and method was past. He was forced into action, with
nothing left for his awn judgment to decide save the fitness
of the weapons he might employ. v

Jamea Hephuni.

215

Chapter XVll.

A LION IN THE PATH.

THE Trysting Place was a well-known spot in the
Strathellon woods. Down a romantic glen, winding
away among the hills, and not very far distant from the
house, there ran a burn of a size to almost justify its
assuming the title of a small river. In fact, where the glen
widened out and lost itself in the broader valley through
which the river flowed, at which spot the two streams of
water united, the one was very little larger than the other.
The lower part of the glen had always been open to the
public, the upper part alone being held as belonging to the
private grounds of Strathellon. A wire fence consiituted
the line of demarcation, with a gate closing the path which
led up to the glen. Not far above this gate the path
ascended, in zig-zag, an extremely steep brae, through a
thick copse of oak, birch and hazel, and then skirted the
brow of the declivity, as far as a clearing, where grew a very
fine oak of enormous girth, and fabulous age, with a seat
fitted round the trunk, which had always been known as
" The Trysting Place." The wood all around was dense, as
dense as is generally the case where the ill-chosen sites of
stealthy meetings are in question.

This was the spot where, for the first time. Lady Ellinor
Farquharson had promised to meet Sir Maurice Adair
clandestinely, allowing herself to be over-persuaded by some
specious excuse concerning his anxiety to discuss with her
some scandal connecting his name with that of a woman of
somewhat questionable reputation in England. She did not,

216

Jam4>8 Hepburn.

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119

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perhaps would not, ask herself what right he had to be so
anxious to clear himself in her eyes ? Nor probably had he
deliberately formed the intention of explaining how impos-
sible it was for him to have given even a passing thought to
any other woman. He had simply made the excuse to
secure a meeting where they might be sure of no interrup-
tion ; and she had yielded, merely because she was becoming
constantly less able to resist Sir Maurice's pleading.

The gate in the fence, which separated the two divisions
of the glen, was reached by a private path from the house
at Strathellon, and just within that gate, therefore, was the
spot where James Hepburn felt most certain of intercepting
Lady EUinor. In the strange, deep calm oi intense excite-
ment, he took up his position, just sufficiently beyond the
gate to be invisible, in case of any afternoon strollers from
the town extending their walk so far. It was a lovely
afternoon, the woods in all their fresh spring beauty, the
air laden with the scent of wild flowers, and the songs of
myriads of birds resounding on every side. But he had
neither eyes nor ears for such sights and sounds, as he stood
leaning against the trunk of a tree. Sight and hearing
were strained to catch one sight — one sound — the flutter of
a dress — the click of the gate latch.

She came at last, and she was very close to him before
she saw him. He marked the sudden start and the quick
flush, as her eye fell upon him ; but then, with a cordial
smile, though with, he fancied, a slight shade of embarrass-
ment in her manner, she advanced to meet him.

" Good afternoon, Mr. Hepburn," she said. " I had
begun to think you were going to drop our acquaintance
altogether. How is it we have not seen you ? "

" I have not been able to make out a visit when you were
at homo."

James Hepburn.

217

" And are you out for a stroll this afternoon ?" she asked,
looking at him, he thought, rather keenly. " Tt is not- often
you indulge yourself in an idle ramble, I fancy. I think
you are looking as if you stood in need of a little idleness.
You look worn." %

" No idleness bro'bght me here this afternoon, Lady
Ellinor," he said, in a low, sad voice ; " and if 1 look worn,
it is with grief, not with work."

" Oh, what is it 1 Are you in trouble ? Has something
happened? Mr. Hepburn, why do you look at me so
strangely ? "

" Should I not look strange, worn, anything save
peaceful and content, when deadly peril is hanging over
your headl"

" Over my head ? What do you mean ? What extraordi-
nary delusion is this % "

** It is no delusion. Would to God it were. You say
that because you. believe I do not know. Lady Ellinor,
dear Lady Ellinor, by all you hold sacred, by all your hopes
of happiness, here and hereafter, I implore you turn back
at once, and shun the fearful peril that awaits you in this
wood."

She turned very white, and was silent for a moment ;
then she said quietly, but with a sort of catching of her
breath,

" Mr. Hepburn, you must be ill, or the victioi of some
extravagant hoax. What possible peril can threaten me
here, within our own private grounds 1 "

" The most deadly peril that can befall a woman," he said.
" The peril of being led on to sacrifice her faith and truth to
a solemnly sworn vow, her peace of mind, and all her
hopes of true happiness, for the fevered dream of an
unsanctified love." _

*'•'■:

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218

James Hepburn.

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8he Haw then that fencing was useless, and, gathering all
her force, she drew herself up proudly ; but he saw that,
none the less, she was trembling violently.

" Mr. Hepburn," she said, " I know you too well to
attribute such words to anything save some hallucination,
resulting from disordered health. Lei me entreat you to
return home at once."

" Would it were hallucination. Prove to me that Sir
Maurice Adair is not waiting for you at the * Trysting
Place,' and I will implore your pardon on my knees."

" Mr. Hepburn ! this is too much ! You forget yourself
very strangely. Allow me to pass. Do not force me to
remind you that you are within the private grounds of
Strathellon."

The path, at the point he had purposely chosen, was very
narrow, hemmed in on ono side by a projecting rock, on ihe
other by tangled brushwood. His stalwart form completely
blocked it. He folded his arms, and looked at her with sad,
beseeching eyes, but with a firmly set face.

** Lady Ellinor," he said, " if some great peiil to life or
limb threatened you in that wood, how could I answer to
God or man if, because you are incredulous, I allowed you
to pass 1 How shall I answer if, because you are lulling
yourself with groundless assurances of safety, I let you pass
to face peril before which any physical danger is as child's
play ? What is man's strength given to him for, save to be
the shield and protection of every woman whom he sees in
danger ? Listen to me for a moment, I beseech you. Do
not dream that I credit you with any evil intent ; but you
are not happy, and a man who loves you madly is offering
you the deadly balsam of an ardent and unfeigned, though
unlawful devotion. He is no selfish profligate, it may be
even yet he believes, as you do, that each can say. Thus far

Javien Hepbuim.

210

orce me to

Hhall it go and no further. But it is not so. I l)eseech, I
implore you, draw back while there is time ; while you can
still meet your husband's eyes without shame and remorse.
I love you, Lady EUinor, with a love I dare lay bare, if that
were possible, for your husband's closest inspection, and just
because of that love no entreaty shall induce me to let you
pass. You shall not cast the faintest slur on your fair fame
while I can prevent it. You may spurn me, close your
doors upon me, but so long as it is possible to save you, so
long will I labour to save you."

He had spoken with a pleading accent, which had grown
almost impassioned as he went on. Lady Ellinor Farquhar-
son stood before him pale, trembling in every limb. Far
beyond the force of his words was the influence of the
depth of passionate yearning, which was the sum of all his
consciousness at the moment. She raised her eyes to his
face, as he paused, with a piteous expression, and her lips
parted, but no sound came, and then he saw that she was
tottering. Without speaking, he drew her gently to a seat
hard by, and placed her on it. She struggled f6r composure
for a moment longer, and then burst into passionate sobbing.
He drew a long, deep breath of intense relief. He knew he
had conquered for the time, and, sitting down beside her,
he waited quietly until the first violence of the outburst
was over.

" Oh, if you only knew^ how miserable I am," she 8obV»ed
at last.

" 1 know you are not happy; but what is the unhappiness
of your present lot to that which you will draw upon your-
self by encouraging Sir Maurice's unlawful devotion ? You
believe your husband is as cold as his manner seems to
imply. It is not so. If you allow yourself to be induced
to trifle with his good name, the bitterest drop in your cup

If'

220

James Hepburn.

Min»i:

of retribution will be the discovery that you have cruelly
wounded a love far deeper than you believa Will you ruu
the risk of bringing dishonour 6n an old and honourable
name, of sacriticing your own fair fame, of casting a shadow
over the lives of your young sisters, merely because a kind,
generous, and most confiding husband is by nature and habit
cold and formal in his manner ? Put it how you may, that
is the real truth, Lady Ellinor."

" But I am not going to do any of these things," she
faltered.

" You do not mean to do them, but that is whither you
are tending. You have already set your feet upon an
incline, which grows steeper and more slippery with every
step you take. Draw back in time before every kind word
or action on your husband's part shall be a sharp stab for
you, and find peace at least in self-renunciation, in living
for the benefit and happiness of all around you."

Lady Ellinor still made no reply. Her sobs had died
away ; but as he paused he saw her give a hasty, almost
terrified, glance along the path.

" Dear Lady Ellinor," he said gently, " you wUl return
to the house now. and let me be your messenger to Sir
Maurice."

" Oh, no, that would never do," she exclaimed, with a gasp.
" I must see him, and tell him."

. " Not to-day. I cannot let you go. Your blood, if you
perished, would rest on my head. Do you fear our meet-
ing ? Let any such dread be at rest. Do you suppose I
cannot feel for him — cannot understand better than you
can what his temptation has been t Do you think my
heart does not bleed for you both in the cruel struggle which
every law, human or divine, demands of you ? " \

He paused, but still she appeared to hesitate.

Jamen Hephtt7*n.

221

•• Do not linger," he said. " I cannot — I dare not let you
pass. It^would be a sin for which I could hardly hope to
be forgiven. You cannot feel all the force of my words
now ; but just because no evil intention is in your thoughts,
you will, when you have time to think over them, in your
inmost heart approve my action. Return home at once, I
implore you. Remember, we are too near the public part
of the glen to be quite safe against being seen, and your
appearance betrays that you have been agitated.

She suddenly rose, a resolute expression gathering upon
her pale face. " May God bless you," she said, in a low,
husky tone, as she took and momentarily pressed his hand.
Then hurriedly retracing her steps, she passed through the
gate, and was out of sight in a few seconds.

Without a moment's loss of time, James Hepb'w.m climbed
the path up the brae, and made his way to the trysting
place. Sir Maurice Adair was impatiently pacing the turf
of the clearing in which the old tree stood. His expression,
as his glance fell upon the minister, was a curiously mingled
one of surprise, annoyance, and alarm.

" I am not the person you expected to see. Sir Maurice
Adair," Mr. Hepburn said ; " but I am her messenger to
you."

•' Mr. Hepburn, what in the name "

'* Nay, do not be uneasy, or think I am craftily trying to
draw admissions from you. I parted from Lady Ellinor
Farquharson not ten minutes since. Will you come and
sit down for a few moments 1 "

In silent bewilderment the young man followed him to
the seat.

" I will tell you, Sir Maurice, what I have not told Lady
Ellinor — what will make you heartily rejoice that I inter-
cepted her ? Your purpose of meeting here was known."

It i

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222

JaiWH Hepburn.

•* Known ! How ] By whom ? "

"That I may not reveal. The knowledge fell accidentally
into the hands of one who would die for Lady Ellinor. No
possible harm will follow to her. It was perfectly under-
stood there was no evil intent on either side, but I inter-
cepted Lady Kllinor, persuaded her to return to the house,
and promised to see you myself, and explain her absence.
Sir Maurice Adair, from my very soul I feel for you. If
I, far removed from Lady Ellinor as I am, by profession
and social position, feel, as I do, the spell of her beauty
and charm, what safety could there be for you but in total
absence ? But have you ever pictured to yourself the fate
to which you are luring her 1 "

♦* You are wronging Lady Ellinor," exclaimed the young
man, vehemently. " She knows my devotion is perfectly
respectful, and that I know she would never stoop to
anything that could injure her self-respect. She simply
trusts me because she has confidence in both herself and
me."

The minister turned his searching eyes with a keen but
kindly glance on the speaker.

" Suppose Lady Ellinor had met you here, and General
Farquharson had unexpectedly appeared, would you have
explained that to him 1 "

Sir Maurice bit his lip, and colored angrily.

" 1 do not for one moment doubt. Sir Maurice, that you
honestly believe that you are speaking the truth. You have
persuaded yourself that it is so, in order that, without self-
reproach, you may follow the course which your feelings
dictate. I know you are no selfish profligate, ready, to
sacrifice any woman to a mere passing passion. You have
to hide from yourself the path you are treading, to avoid
the stings of keen self-reproach. But we are both men, Sir

JiDiuft IJt'phiirtt.

22a

Maurice. You will not say to me that any woman is Hafe
who accepts, in secret, the dHvuUou which is to console her
for her husband's coldness."

** Don't speak of him," exclaimed the young man angrily.
" It maddens me to think of him. What right had he to
tie that lovely creature to him, and then slowly break her
heart ? "

" The knot is tied, Sir Maurice, and can only be untied
by death or sin. But the case is not so bad as that. I
hold General Farquharson myself, greatly to blame, but
there is no heart-breaking in question. A woman may
suffer cruel disappointment, but her heart does not break
because her husband, though invariably kind and affection-
ate, is somewhat cold and formal. You are, unconsciously
I doubt not, trying to make the case out worse than it is,
in order to justify yourself to yourself. But it is to save
Lady Ellinor from a worse fate than the worst picture you
can draw of her present fate, that I appeal to you now. I
know, and yon know, that the course you are following can
havQ but one ending — that, sooner or later, the hour will
come when she will be forced to place herself openly under
your protection. I am a son of the people, ill-versed in the
ways of your social sphere ; you probably know, even better
than I can know, all that that means for her. Is that the
consolation you would offer her for her high place,
untarnished name, and the love and admiration which
surround her wherever she is known ? "

" It would not come to that," he said, in extreme agitation.

" Do not try to deceive yourself, Sir Maurice, for your
own sake, even more for Lady Ellinor's sake. To what
lengths will your infatuation lead you, when already, while
you hold yourself firmly your own master, it has caused you
to risk her name being lightly spoken of 'i "

224

JfDiwH Hephurn.

"(lood God, Mr. Hephurn, what do you mean?"

" Already scandal hai linked your niimen t4>^ther, though,
I allow, to no extent but what in inevitable where a woman
like Lady Ellinor is the mark for jealousy and envy, to a
host of gossip-loving idlers. But what have you done
to-day 1 A gamekeeper, a woodman, a chance idler straying
about these woods, and her name would have been en every
scandalous tongue in Mossgiel ere twenty-four hours were
over."

8ir Maurice started up, and began to pace up and down
in great agitation. Then he paused in front of the
minister.

*• You are right, Mr. Hepburn, in that, quite right. It
was an act of madness. I thank you most heartily for
having intercepted Lady Ellinor."

" And for having urged on her a sense of danger."

" No, I cannot honestly say that. I frankly admit I
have gone too far, and I thank you for a warning which has
pulled me up. But there can be no danger to Lady Ellinor.
It seems to me almost an insult to her to suggest such a
a thing. She is above all temptation."

" No human being is that, Sir Maurice — least of all a
woman who can consent, under any terms, to a clandestine,
interview with a man who holds towards her sentiments
which he dare not avow in her husband's presence. She
may be ignorant of her danger ; but that makes the danger
all the greater. Your love for her is genuine, but there is
selfishness mixed with it, and the selfishness, not the love,
is what will guide the course of your actions, if you do not
at once sacrifice yourself for the sake of her peace, her
happiness, her fair fame, and sternly resolve never to see her
again until you have fought down this feeling."

" I can never do that."

Jainett Ufphum.

225

" Then depart for ever," said the mininter, Hternly. '• You
aro showing the immensity of the danger «'ith every admis-
sion you make. If you have one grain of true manliness
in you, take the pain of action on yourself, and by that
action stand between the woman you love, and the weakness
of her woman's nature ; so that in days to come, when she
shall more clearly see the ilepth of the abyss on the brink
of which she is trembling, she may blesN the name of the
man who tore his very heart out, unflinchingly, to save her.
Show, by perfect self-sacritice, that your love is perfect, and
the memory of it will be her safe-guard in the future. Will
you do this ? "

♦• You are too hard for me," he murmured ; " but I will
think of it ; I will try. 1 am not made of the stuff heroes
and martyrs are made of."

"Then quietly leave this place at once,
you should not be seen here, even alone,
what I have said, Sir Maurice, and God grant you may
never have on your soul the curse of a cruelly-wronged
husband, and the hopeless ruin of a noble-hearted and
l)eautiful woman."

He turned and walked away as he spoke, without further
greeting. His mood towards Sir Maurice was stern and
bitter. He had little faith in his heroism, however good his
resolutions for the moment might be. Self-sacrifice was not
a plant to thrive and flourish in the moral atmosphere in
whioh he had been born and brought up.

Looking back, just as he entered the wood, he saw Sir
Maurice slowly retiring in the opposite direction, and lost
in deep and anxious thought, he began to descend the brae.
He was nearly halfway down, and was just turning one of
the sharp angles of tne path, when the sound of rapidly-
approaching footsteps caught his ear. He paused, but ere

It is well that
Think well of

226

Jameti Hephwrn.

he had time t > be even certain from which direction the
sound came, a man, descending the path at headlong speed,
and cutting across the angles by a dash through the copse-
wood, came violently in contact with him from behind. In
a moment he was driven over the edge of the brae, and only
saved a further headlong descent by catching a firm grip of
a sapling. Before he could recover himself, and gain the
path, his unintending assailant was out of sight ; but he
could hear his flying footsteps below, and the crashing of
boughs as he thus unceremoniously cut ofi the corners.
The minister, having recovered his hat, stood doubtfully on
the path for a moment. The assault was clearly a pure
accident, but it seemed for that very reason, all the more
strange the assailant had never paused in his headlong
career. After a brief hesitation, Mr. Hepburn hastily
re^.raced his steps. As he emerged on to the clearing, he
saw Sir Maurice Adair, in evident excitement, approaching
from the other side.

" Have you seen anyone, Mr. Hepburn 1 " he asked.

♦' Hardly seen, but heavily felt." And he explained what
hud happened.

" Thank God you stopped Lady Ellinor," continued Sir
Maurice, in much agitation. " The fellow must have been
lurking about. A poacher, I expect, who among the copse-
wood took me for a keeper. I am certain he tried to shoot
mo. I heard the click of a lock — a pistol, I am sure. I
gave a shout, and made a dash in the direction and just
caught a momentary glimpse of a figure, that was all. T
thought he went in tJie direction you had taken."

" Are yon certain it was a pistol you heard ? "

" Quite sure. It was just the sound of a lock when it
misses fire."

" You are probably right, that you were mistaken for a

James }f(>phtini.

227

keeper. Thank God it is no worse. You had better get
clear of the wood at once, Sir Maurice."

With that they parted ; and the minister's anxiety was
greatly increased as he again descended the steep path. He
could not but divine pretty readily what this startling
incident meant. Where the undergrowth was thick, it was
likely enough that Sir Maurice Adair, in his rough shooting
suit, might have been mistaken for a keeper.

He slowly pursued his way downwards to the place of
junction between the burn and the river. From thence the
path skirted along the river bank close to the edge of steep,
overhanging rocks, beneath which the water ran deep and
strong to where, a few hundred yards further down, a
wicket gate opened upon the public road, just at the point
where a bridge spanned the river. On the bridge he
paused, and, leaning over the parapet, gazed long and
silently down into the heavily rolling stream, much swollen
by recent rain. His heart was heavy with present sadness
— heavier still with dread forebodings.

228

Jariien Hephinm.

Chaptkk XVIII.

CRIME OR ACCIDENT?

FULLY conscious of that listless langour which generally
succeeds to extreme excitement, Mr. Hepburn selected
a book of comparatively light reading, and settled himself
after dinner, in his study, for what he called an idle
evening. He did not, however, even then find it very easy
to keep his attention fixed upon the pages he mechanically
read. Again and again he found his thoughts had drifted
away, and the words he was r* ading left no impression on
his mind.

It was drawing on towards nine o'clock, when a tap at
the door was followed by the entrance of Mrs. Findlay.

" I beg yer pardon, Mr. Hepburn," she said, " but did ye
chance to be near Castle Hill Farm the day ? "

The house on Castlo Hill Farm stood close by the road,
about a quarter of a mile from the bridge which James
Hepburn had crossed.

" I passed the house this afternoon," he said, '* on my
way home. I had just come stra'^jht from the bridge when
I came in."

" And did ye chance to see aught of Mary, sir ? "

" No. I did not see her. Is anything wrong 1 "

" Well, I hope not, sir. But I canna quite understand
her not bein' hame. She has a cousin in service at Castle
Hill, an' she went this afternoon to see her. She said when
she went, she wad be sure to be hame by seven o'clock, an'
she's no come yet."

" You can't expect, when two girls get together they

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Jiinn's Ht'jtljH I'll.

241)

jrossion on

should take much heed of how time is passing,' said thu
minister.

" Voel, sir, Mary's no apt to be late when she's fixed a
time. I'm just feared she may hae foregathered wi' Rob
Blackwood by the way, an' be stoppin' to chatter wi' him.
If ye'll no mind bein' left alane in the house a wee while,
Mr. He[)burn, I'll just gang a wee bit doun the road, an' see
if I can see her."

" Yes. By all means go," said the minister, with a slight
frown gathering on his brow. 1 will be on the watch to let
you in."

" Thank you, sir ;" and Mrs. Findlay retired.

The incident did not tend to calm the minister's somewhat
disturbed state of mind. He tried to resume his reading,
but found himself constantly listening to catch the click of
the gate lat^i, and the sound of footsteps on tne gravel
path up to the house. When more than an hour passed,
and there were still no signs of Mrs. Findlay's return, he
grew too uneasy to attempt any longer to occupy himself.
The farm house of Castle Hill was hardly three miles from
Mossgiel. Mrs. Findlay must surely have gone the whole
distance in search of Lv^r missing niece.

He wandered from room to room, and now and again to
the front door to licten, for more than an hour, but still the
silence was unbroken ; and it was nearly half-past eleven
before he heard the gate swing suddenly back, and hasty
footsteps approaching the house. He hurried at once to the
door, reaching it almost at the same moment as the farmer
from Castle Hill, Mr. Reid.

" Eh, Mr. Hepburn, but this is a sair piece o' wark ? " he
said.

" What has happened 1 "
The lassie's clean disappeared, an' nae body can tell
(15)

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JdTi rs Hfpbiiril.

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the hoo or the why. I left Mrs. Findlay at the farm.
She's like to gnng oot o' her mind. We maun gang to the
polic(! station, sir."

*' But what has happened ! Did the girl never reach
Castle Hill I"

*• Oh, she was there, sure eneugh. 1 saw her niysel' in
the afternoon. She cam' speerin' for her cousin Janet, an'
they told her Janet was oot wi' the wean, an' likely wad
he a wee bit up the hum, where I'd got the forester's leave
to cut a wheen salpins for the sheep nets. She said
she wad gang on an' seek her, out she never got
that length, an' nae a saul that I can think to speer
at set eyes upon her after she left the house. Her aunt's
just ravin' on that she's atF wi' Rob Blackwood. I
promised I wad gang there first, and then to the police."

" I'll come with you," said the minister hastily reaching
down his hat and coat ; and without a moment's delay they
set out.

Their repeated sumraonses at length brought Maggie
Blackwood to the door. Her account of her brother was
clear enough, and she was evidently much too stupid and
sleepy to have improvised it on the spot. Rob had gone
early that morning, with a cart, to a farm some miles be-
yond Castle Hill. He meant to leave the cart there, and
walk to another farm, where he had business, at some little
distance ; and she jxpected him home about the middle of
the next day.

'* The whole thing favours the possibility of an elope-
ment," Mr. Hepburn sai i, as they walked away, " I think
it would be a mistake to set the police on the alert untU we
see if Blackwood comes home to-morrow as expected."

" I'm quite o' yer mind, sir. If she's gang aff wi' him,
there's nae gude raakin' a scandal o't. I'll just gang hame,
an' try an' persuade the auid leddy to bide quiet."

Jiinu'H W'phiiim.

'21U

"Wait until I rouso up my man. He shall drive you
home, and hriin; Mrs. Findlay back."

Was it an elopement ? Mr. HepUurn wondered as he
awaited in his study the return of the dog-cart. The facts
favoured such an hypothesis : but with the strange inci-
dents of the forenoon fresh in his memory, it gavM him no
relief from a distinct dread which was laying momentarily
stronger hold upon him. Yet, come what might, of these
incidents he could not say one single word, lest questions
might lead to further discoveries than he dared risk.

The dog-cart drove up at length, and Mrs. Findlay,
denouncing Robert Blackwood, and not sparing a few
oblique thrusts about his having been encouraged to come
about the house, was at length persuaded to go off to her
bed. But there was little sleep for anyone at the manse that
night, and when he rose in the early morning Mr. Hepburn
could not but see the haggard worn look on his own pale
face.

Soon after mid-day Mr. Hepburn and Mr. Laing walked
down to Blackwood's house. Robert had arrived shortly
before with the cart. The Blackwood scowl gathered heavily
upon his face when he was told of Mary's disappearance,
but his own account of himself was perfectly unem-
barrassed.

He had been to the farm as his sister had described, but
had not paid the second visit he had intended to make,
hearing that the man he wished to see was too ill to receive
him. He had therefore, he said, walked over the hills to
some distance, to see a shepherd, who was an old friend ;
but had found the house locked up, the man and his wife
both being out.

" Can you throw no possible light on what may have
become of the girl, Blackwood ? " Mr. Hepburn asked.

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Jam*iH Hepburn.

'M}:-:

"11

*• Na, sir. I canna help ye."

" Do you think she has elojted ? "

A strange look came over the man's face, and he was
silent for a moment. Then he said, ** 1 dinna think it.
There's ae man nae missin' that wad hae been misisin' had
she been awa that way. But where she may be is mair
than I can guess ? "

" You seem to me to take her disappearance with strange
coolness, Blackwood, considering the feelings you professed
towards her."

"There's some things tak' awa a' yer power to feel, sir.
I'd come to ken I need hope nae mair. I'll no say but I'll
be easier the noo if she's awa athegether, an* I dinna see
her ony mair."

Mr. Laing had been quietly watching Blachwood during
this brief colloquy. As they walked away, he said
gravely,

" Hepburn, that fellow knows more than he will allow."

"So I think."

" I should not in the least wonder if she has been carried
off, not by, but for him. His account of himself is clear
enough, and can easily be verified. But he is just the sort
of a fellow for such exploit. In that ase she is probably
safe enough, somewhere out at sea."

" Do not for any sake suggest that idea to her aunt —
Hulloa ! "

The exclamation was due to a strange spectacle. They
had come in sight of the manse at the moment, and a
crowd assembled round the door.

'* Something has turned up," said Mr. Laing, as they
hastened towards the house.

" They've just ta'en her in, sir," said one of the crowd,
as the minister cp.me up.

Jnuiex Ilf'jthn ni.

•2:r.\

"Who? What? "he asked.

" Mary Warrender, sir. The l>ody was washed up wi'
the tide, the nicrn, an' some o' the men gangiii' doun to the
boats found it just abune high water mark."

AVithout a word the two men passed into the house.
There all was wild confusion. Mrs. Findlay in strong
hy'steries, a bevy of excited women sobbing and conjecturing
by turns, Dr. Tweedie and Dr. Hewson, another Mossgiel
practitioner, talking in low tones to the police sergeant,
and in a buck room, which served as laundry, the poor pale
cold form, still in its soaked sodden clothing, laid upon
a long table.

" Now, my good people," Mr. H(;pburn said, (juietly but
firmly, "yon must all clear out of this, if you please.
There is, unfortunately, no need for any one save the
doctors and the police. All this confusion is very trying
for Mrs. Findlay, and annoying for the doctors. Mrs.
Findlay, you must go up to your room at once and try to
compose yourself. Mrs. Bell, kindly remain with Mrs.
Findlay. Your daughter will, perhaps, stay in the kitchen
in case of anything being wanted."

The tone of quiet determination was very effectual.
The house was speedily cleared, and Mrs. Findlay, moaning
dismally, was conveyed upstairs by Mrs. Bell and her
daughter.

" Is it really a case of drowning 1 " the minister asked,
turning to the doctors.

" It looks like it, as far as a cursory glance can show,"
Doctor Tweedie said ; " but Hewson and ^ are just going to
n)ake an examination. Word has been sent to the Fiscal.
The men who found the body are in your dining-room.
The sergeant is going to question them while we are
occupied."

234

JamcH Hrphnm.

There was little that they could tell. Going down to their
boats that morning they had come upon the body left on
the sand by the receding tide. That was all they could say.

Then after a while the doctors sent for the sergeant to
receive their report, and shortly returned with him to the
dining-room, where Mr. Hepburn and Mr. Laing were
anxiously awaiting their appearance. The case was clearly
one of drowning, and the fact that their was not a bruise
or scratch anywhere about the body to indicate any
violence having been used, seemed to point clearly to some
sudden accident. That was about the sum of the doctor's
report. How the accident could have happened was wrapt
in mystery. From the moment the girl had left the Castle
Hill Farm, all trace of her seemed absolutely lost.

" What time did she leave the farm 1 " Mr. Hepburn
asked.

" I cannot quite make out," the sergeant said. " Mr.
Reid was here just now, but he is very uncertain at
what time he saw her, and the byre woman only remem-
bers that it was some time in the afternoon. But her
cousin came in some time after five o'clock, and they are
all sure it was a good while before then."

" It was shortly after five o'clock when I came over the
bridge," the minister said. " She cannot have been any-
where about then, or I must have seen her."

" The old lady keeps raving on incessantly about Robert
Blackwood," said the sergeant ; " but she's in such a state,
I don't think that its any good questioning her. Do you
know what she's got in her head, sir ? "

" Perfectly well. He has long wanted to marry the poor
girl, and when she did not return home, her aunt at 'once
took it into her head she had run away with him. But I
account of himself seems clear enough." \

JtUiUK Ift'phtirn.

235

♦' I'll verify that story,' the 8.°rj;eant said, on hearing
what Blackwood had said. "I'll just wait till f get word
from the Fiscal, and then start off. I'll go and see now if
any message has come.'"

Dr. Hewson followed the sergeant, and the three other
men were left together.

" Well, Hepburn, what do you say now 1 " asked Mr.
Laing.

" It's a horrible business."

" No doubt of that. But how came it about ? How long
had she been in the water, Tweedie ? "

" Certainly since the previous evening."

" Hepburn and I have been interviewing her fiery suitor, .
find w6 were b">th struck with an impression that he knew
mure than he chose to say. What are the chances <^hat she
was carried off at his instigation ? and that she either fell,
or was thrown overboard at s a ? "

" Neither one nor tlie other, most decidedly."

" How do you know 1 "

" For ^he very good reason that she was drowned in fresh
water. I nially do not see why you should be trying to
make a murder out of it. The case seems easy enough to
account for plausibly. If the girl started in search of her ,
cousin, she had to walk along a path very close to the edge
of a precipitous bank, with the river running very heavily
just below. A very slight accident could hardly fail to end
fatally."

" And not even a scream ? "

" That remains to be investigated. It could only have
been one quick cry. There would not be time for more.
Some one may have heard a cry. The sergeant will examine
into all these points. But I must not linger here. I have
a great deal to do, and this matter has taken up a long

'2M

Jninfn Hephnrn.

time, Hepburn, you look as if this huninpss had taken it
out of you, (yOiix* and have some luncheon with Mrs.
Twocdie and me. You'll ho better not 8ittin<j by yourself,"

The minister, who had been sitting' g^^ing abstractedly
out of the .vindow, roused hiimself, and, ^cttin«( up, walked
over to the other side of the room, and stood, leaning his
elbow on the chimney-piece. " It is a horrible business," he
said ; "1 cannot grasp it even yet. Moving about the
house and doing her accustomed work not twenty-four hours
since, and now lying there cold and still ! But I will not
go with you, Tweedie, thank you. I had better remain in
the house. I may be wanted."

" Dr. Tweedie and Mr. Laing left the house together, and
almost as soon as they had passed out of the gate, Mr.
Laing said, in a low voice —

" There is some one besides Blackwood has something in
his mind he does not choose to admit."

" It looks like it. But if he has any suspicions, why
does he not speak ? " •

" Who can tell. Bui I wish to God he did not look as
he does."

"How?"

" My dear Tweedie, just reflect a moment Hepburn is
unmarried, only eight-and-thirty years of age — a girl living
in his house, and unquestionably very attractive in appear-
ance, goes out in the afternoon, is known to be somewhere
in the same direction as he is gone, and gets mysteriously
drowned. And he looks as pale, haggard, and worn as any
severe shock could well make a man look."

" Good God ! Laing, you don't mean "

" That I have any suspicion 1 Not the faintest. If
Hepburn accused himself, I should only believe his mind
had gone wrong. But do you suppose I am the only person

JameH U^^tlnim.

2;J7

who will l^ik nil thcsn circumstftncMs tog«'ther 1 Mark my
words, Twe«'cli(% this will l»e a far more serious husincsH
than the last. That rascal Ouickshanks will l>e clo>%n upon
it like a vulture. Yet, for the life of me, I cannot see how
we can do anything."

" I'll offer tive hundred pounds for any information,"
exclaimed Dr. Tweedie, in great agitation.

" I'd offer a thousand if it would do any good. IJut it
would only make bad worse. To show the least anxiety
would Just give fresh wings to scandal. Scandal is a thing
you can't grapple. You might as well try to fence a fog
with a rapier."

" Why should there be scandal about him ? "

" Because all the people who are shams themselves hate
him. Every one who is thorough, good or bad, likes him.
Those who are not, instinctively feel that he sees through
them. Forsyth was, I believe, as good and honest a man
at heart as Hepburn himself ; but he was weak and alto- •
gether without discernment. He took the people pretty
much at their oven valuation. Hepburn looks them through
and through, and they naturally don't like it."

" Good Heavens ! it's too horrible." The serious aspect
of the case was growing rapidly on Dr. Tweedie.

"There is but one thing to fall back upon," said Mr.
Laing, " as a last chance. If my fears are verified to any
serious extent, I'll go and speak to Robert Blackwood.
How on earth he has done it I can never understand — save
that J am certain there is some mystery attached to that
knocking down business — but Hepburn has completely v.'on
that fellow. I believe he'd lay down his life for him. His
account, if verified, clears him. Still I am of opinion he
knows or suspects something. He may liave chances of
lighting on a clue which we should never have. I believe

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Jtiin^H Ilcplni in.

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he would >4top at notiiing, if llpphurn's inicreHts were in
queHtion."

*' Coin*' in thon and talk it over with luy wife. Sh«''li
iiear all tliat's said Hooner than we shall. We must put her
on hiT guard."

Without tlie faintoHt pcn^cption of any siniHtor aspect of
the ciise, as far as regardcid himself, .lames Hepburn was,
meantime sittin^ij in his study, the prey of a throng of
anxious thou'.;hts. lilackwood's account o*' himself was so
perfectly clear, and so easy of verilication, that it was
impossible to doubt its accuracy. Then who was his own
unintending assailant in tht; woods ? Ho was clearly, under
the circumstances, the suspicious feature in the case. Yet
of him the njinister felt he dared not breathe a word ; for
who could tell wheie an investij<ation in that direction
might end 1 What malignant fate seemed bent upon
entangling him in ambiguous positions with regard to
crime 1 Physically depressed by worry, anxiety, and want
of rest, his musings were vt-ry glnmy that afternoon ; and
a strong wish began to grow up within him that he had
never left his secluded country home, where such evils as
he had to face were mostly of a negative rather than of a
positive sort.

The police 8er'][eant came to him again in the evening.
He iiad been over to the farm Blackwood had named, and
his account was unhesitatingly verified. He had been told
tiiere of the illness of the man he wished to see, and had
announced his intention of walking over the hills to a
distant shepherd's house. He had returned in the evening
earlier than he was expected, and just about the time he
would naturally be back if he found the house shut up. He
had slept at the farm, and started with the cart just in time
to reach Mossgiel by ntid-day.

Jaiui'H Hi'phurn.

'I'M)

" I've juHt ln'en down aii'l Heen him inyHt'lt," tlu' Hnrgeaiit
Haid.

•' How did he n^ceive you ? "

The man laughod. "The Black woods ar« not the sort
that caro much for us comini; about their placeH, air. But
he was civil onough, sour and short in his answfTH, but they
wore straightforward enough. I tohl him plainly I'd verified
his story, but ho only gave a sort of surly smile ; and then
I asked him whether, since he and the young woman were
courting, he couldn't give any hints to guide us as to
whether there had been anything wrong 1 He just thought
a bit, and then said he didn't see anything but that it was
just an accident. The Fiscal '11 be through to-morrow ; but
I don't see there'll be anything but for him to return it as
an accident."

This verification of Blackwood's story seem* 1 to render
it absolutely certain that at the time of all the strange
transactions of that momentous afternoon, he was miles
away from either Strathellon or Mossgiel. The minister's
perplexities increased. What, then, could be the meaning
of the mysterious occurrence in the wood 1 Could it be
possible that the skein was even a more tangled one than
he deemed it ? That there were two rivals mutually seeking
each other's destruction ; and that Sir Maurice Adair had
been mistaken for Robert Blackwood ? They were about
the same height and weight, but there all possible
resemblance ended. Still the minister did remember to
have seen Blackwood wearing a suit much the color of the
one Sir Maurice had worn that afternoon ; and where the?
under cover was thick, a mistake might have been possible.
Such a theory seemed to throw some light upon Blackwood's
strangely perverted moral theories, for certainly the case
was somewhat different i he was only seeking the life of a

Eh*

240

Javies Heplnim.

man who was bent on taking his life, should the chance
arise. It all seemed more tangled and confused the longer
he thought of it ; and all his speculations came back at last
to the words he murmured, half aloud, as he rose to seek
the repose he sorely needed. " If only, poor lassie, you
could tell me you had come fairly by your enrl ! "

•1 ' I i

Jii mes Hepharn.

241

CHAPTKR XIX.

CONFIDENCES.

IT is piteous, in such a case, that cold, raarhle stillness
and unbreakable silence of the only being who could
solve such anxious questionings. Every inquiry was hope-
lessly baffled. The most careful examination of the river
bank yielded no results ; and no one had heard, or would
admit having heard, a sound. A little comparing of notes
as to the time at which Mary Warrender had left the
manse, and the time which she had stayed at the farm,
seemed to render it pretty clear that it could not have been
later than half-past four when she started to seek her cousin ;
therefore, James Hepburn was very well aware that he, at
that moment, was a long way off,

A clear case of' accidental drowning, the Fiscal said.
Had she been drowned in the sea the case would have been
different, and much more suspicious. But on that point the
doctor's evidence was positive. The drowning had taken
place in fresh water ; and she was known to have started
from the farm with the intention of following a path where
an accident was very likely to happen. There seemed to
be no possible circumstance to suggest that the death had
been due to anything save accident, especially considering
that the girl v a.3 not known to possess an enemy in the
world.

It was strange to James Hepburn how much he missed
her. Her fresh, pretty young face, and light active
movements, had brightened up the somewhat silent manse
more than he had been himself aware ; and she had always

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242

Janien Hepburn.

been most careful in her attentions to all his comforts.
Mrs. Pindlay's gloomy countenance and dismal sighings did
not tend to leHsen the saddening effect of the change ; and
her grief, being constantly fed by the reflection that had Mary
only lived until she was twenty-one she could have made
a will, and secured to her aunt the revision of her little
fortune, seemed likely to be perennial.

Through all those trying days the minister had found
time to ponder anxiously over Lady Ellinor Farquharson.
What was to be his own line of action 1 There he felt
himself utterly at a loss from want of any idea what her
action would be. When the excitement of the moment
was passed, would resentmejit spring up ? And would the
action forced upon him by the exigencies of the moment
simply close the door upon all future chance of making any
effort on her behalf ?

On that point his doubts were soon set at rest. On the
day of poor Ma,ry Warrender's funeral a note was brought
to him from Lady Ellinor. She had been, she said, dread-
fully shocked at hearing what had happened, and jad, in
consequence of the accident, delayed writing to ask him to
come and see her. Would he send back word by the
bearer when it would be convenient for him to call, as she
was anxious to see him 1 With a deep-drawn breath of
relief he hastily wrote an answer, naming an early day.

He started on foot, and almost immediately after turning
in a>. the lodge gates of Strathellon he met General
Fare jharson, also walking. The General cordially wel-
comed him.

"I thought we were never going to see you, Mr.
Hepburn, and was pleased to hear from La.''y Ellinor that
she expected you this afternoon. This w a sad business
you have had at the manse."

J a II ten Hepburn.

24:i

e moment

" Moro than sad ; it is horrible."

" You are right. But — I am afraid there is a flaw in
our moral sentiments somewhere — I don't think we should
have been so impressed if it had been the aunt, instead of
the niece, although she is a most worthy person. 1
remember her quite well at Htrathellon, years ago, when 1
was quite a young fellow, she was a most excellent servant,
but her appearance was not singularly attractive, which I
nmst allow her niece's was. Of course I noticed her
particularly at the ball ; a singularly pretty bright looking
girl. I am afraid, Mr. Hepburn, that has something to do
with our feelings."

" And why not 1 Beauty in any *orm has an irresistible
attraction ; but moral beauty will carry the day, any time,
General, where our feelings towards the dead are in question.
The poor lassie had physical beauty, certainly, and Mrs
Findlay. though a worthy respectable woman, has not
moral beauty. That just constitutes all the difference."

" Well, yes, I suppose there is something in that. But
do you fully believe, Mr. Hepburn, it was an accident ] "

" Don't ask me. I cannot bear to think about it. It is
useless. There is not the faintest shadow of evidence to
the contrary, and yet I have a distinct perception that
accident was not probable under the circumstances."

" Ah ! that is just what every one feels, I believe. It
strikes me it is a very fortunate circumstance that a
certain person we wot of can account for himself so clearly.
But I am keeping you standing. I will turn and walk
part of the way up to the house with you. I am in no
hurry, and there is another matter I wish to speak to you
about."

He turned as he spoke, ard they walked slowly along the
approach together. General Farquharson was silent for a
few moments. Then he said a trifle abruptly —

-4;l
is

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244

JiUiifs Ifcpharn.

" You have not, I think, seen Lady Ellinor since her
return from England ? "

•* Only for a few moments," replied the somewhat startled
minister. '' I met her one afternoon out walking, and
spoke to her. That is the only time I have seen her."

Again General Farquharson was silent for a moment.

Then he said —

" How did you think her looking when you saw her? "

" The question is difHcult to answer General Farquharson,
for to tell the honest truth, horribly uncouth though I fear
I must appear to you, I was not thinking about her looks,
and observed them very b'ttle."

General Farquharjion smiled, b»it it was a grave smile.
"We will not impeach your character for gallantry to
Lady Ellinor," he said, " though, in truth, I am not sure
she would not be attracted, rather than the reverse.
Admiration is rather a monotonous ofiering at her shrine.
But, to tell you the truth, Mr. Hepburn, I am not quite
easy about her. I trust I have never been blind to the
responsibilities I voluntary incurred in marrying a very
beautiful women, so very much younger than myself. I
can most honestly say that it has been, ever since, the chief
study of my life to ensure Lady Ellinor's happiness, as far
as possible. In fact, no one knows at what an amount of
personal anxiety I have endeavoured to give full considera-
tion to her wishes. Her love of both riding and driving
rather mettlesome horses has cost me hours of intense
anxiety, yet I have never interfered, save in one or two
instances where non-interference would have amounted to
positive culpability : and in all our arrangements I have,
in every way, sought, as far as I could ascertain them, to
give full effect to her wishes. Yet sometimes, and more
especially of late I have feared I have not been quite so sue-

J(i)m'.s Hepbant.

24r>

cossful as I could wish. Ludy Ellinor has seemed to me
occasionally a little out of spirits, and I have thought her
pale, and a little worn looking ; and she is certainly more
Htful and excitkble in her mood."

"Pardon me for interrupting you, General Farquharson,"
broke in the sorely harrassed minister, " but with what
object are you speaking thus to me ] Surely I am not a
fitting recipient for such confidences ? "

" Let me finish what I was going to say, and then I
think you will better understand. Only yesterday I spoke
to Lady Ellinor, and told her I thought her looking not
well, and a little out of spirits, and begged her to tell
me if she had the least wish ungratified, which it was
in my power to carry out. She seemed much agitated,
and spoke in a way which caused me much pain. She
was very bitter and sarcastic, said all women were alike,
never knew when they were well off, and never made
good wives unless they married brutes who positively
ill-used them, then they clunq; to theoi with most unshaken
devotion ; and that she wished I would ill-use her, and
then perhaps she would make a better wife. Her whole
mood seemed to me strained and unreal, and was very
painful to me. It was after that conversation I resolved
to speak to you, Mr. Hepburn. You have Lady Ellinor's
confidence and respect to a most unusual degree. How
thoroughly I share her sentiments, I think my present
line of action will abundantly testify. In conversation
with her you may chance to find out whether it is pos-
sible any change in our habits, or mode of life, would
conduce to Lady Ellinor's happiness. In that case I shall
fe«l for ever indebted to you if \ ou will speak openly
to me. I should be sorry to give up Strathellon ; but 1
would not allow that thought to weigh with me for a
(16)

I'-

•240

Jtinwfi lli'jthttrn.

moment, if I thought Lady Eliinor's liappin^ss was at
stake. There is nothing I would not sacrifice, rather than
feel she had any cause to regret havin^^ trusted her happi-
ness in my hands. I will leave you now,*" be added, as
they approached the house. " You will, I know, aid me
in this anxiety, if you possibly can."

He rang the bell as he spoke, and the instant appearance
of servants prevented Mr. Hepburn from making any
re^ iy, beyond wishing his tormentor good afternoon. And
almost before he had time even to collect his confused ^nd
startled senses, he found himself in Lady Ellinor Farquhur-
son's presence.

She met him with perfect calmness and self-possession.
On that point at least she was thoroughly a woman of the
world, but as he looked at her, even through a slightly
varying colour, he saw there was a change in her. Her
face had lost something of its brightness, and there was a
perceptible shade under her eyes. She greeted him
cordially, saying, as she looked anxiously at him, " How
dreadfully worn and haggard you are looking ! This has
been a terrible shock tr you I fear."

'' It has indeed. All the more because for all there does
not seem the least thing to indicate foul play, I cannot shake
off an uneasy dread as to whether the poor girl really came
fairly by her end."

" I am very, very sorry," she said gently. •* All the more
because, I fear, you had quite enough to worry you without
this painful addition. I have so wished to see you, but I
did not like to claim your attention until this sad business
was settled. I want co get rid of all unpleasant memories
lingering from our last meeting."

" Your parting words. Lady Ellinor," he said in a low
voice, " took away all the unpleasantness for me, by showing
you were not angry with me."

Jiimt's JIt'fthnrn.

247

Then Bhe dropped the momentary aHsumption of almost
unconcern with which she had broken the ice, and spoke
earnestly and sadly.

" I should bfj the most despicable of women if I felt
towards you anything but the deepest gratitude. But just
because of that gratitude, and the sincere regard I feel for
you, I am anxious you should rightly understand, so that
you may not think me more in fault than I was. But, first,
will you tell me one thing 1 "
" What 'i "

" Do you think that any one, save yourself, had seen Sir
Maurice ] '.'

The question lifted a great weight of anxiety off him, and
with remorseless indifference to all questions of Jesuitism,
he perpetrated at once the pious fraud of quietly acquiescing
in a misapprehension which avoided all risk of any further
questions as to how he had gained his information. " I do
not believe," he said, " that anyone, save myself, met Sir
Maurice that afternoon."

" I am very glad. It was a mad, on my part, a wicked
thing. But," she hesitated a moment, " have you ever gone
through such experience, Mr. Hepburn, as to know what it
is not to see, or at least not to recognise, the full bearings
of your own action, in some case, until it is suddenly placed
before you in the light in which it strikes some disinterested
observer 1 "

'* I am not sure that I have, in actual fact," he replied.
" But it has been too long a sacred duty with me to study
human nature to the utmost of my ability, for roe not per-
fectly to understand so frequent an occurrence."

" Ah ! I am glad you understand. I cannot tell you
what a shock it gave me to see what you felt, and hear all
you said. Your viesw of the danger was exaggerated, indeed

248

Jaines Uephurn.

it was ; but I was wrong — very wrong — to promise to grant
that one interview. I fully intended then to tell Sir
Maurice that it must never be repeated. But " — she paused
again, and coloured painfully.

With him all perception of personality had vanished,
lost in intense realization of the human soul in sore need
of the guidan 3 which it was his special duty to provide.
" Speak open' , Lady Ellinor," he said gravely. " Reni3m-
ber that what you say now is as sacred as though Epoken to
the most conscientious keeper of the secrets of the con-
fessional."

" Well, what I mean is, Mr. Hepburn," and her voice
was slightly tremulous, " you must not altogether take what
I said in the excitement of the moment as true. I have
bitterly reproached myself since, for conveying a false and
most cruelly unjust impression. I do not like speaking of
my husband — there seems a sort of disloyalty in doing it
even to you ; but my own fault, in saying I was miserable,
forces me to do so. You will quite understand that
marriage opens the door for the possibility of many sorrows
and troubles of which it is difficult to speak. A kinder,
more indulgent husband than General Farquhareon woman
never had ; but still there is a great difference in our ages ;
perhaps, altogether, our temperaments are not very well
suited, and I have not been altogether happy. You must
believe me, when I tell you that Sir Maurice Adair has
always treated me with the most perfect respect ; has never
allowed himself to forget that I am General Farquharson's
wife ; and yet, in a thousand ways, he has shown, that he
understood and felt for me. I should be the coldest-hearted
of women if I did not feel grateful to him, and it was really
in order to show my gratitude and confidence that I
promised what he asked."

JanuH Hepbium.

249

" One moment, Lady Ellinor. Will you tell me what
reason Sir Maurice assigned for venturing on such a
request ? "

" Only the wish to talk, without risk of being interrupted,
over some idle rumour about himself, causing a good deal
of mischief among some common friends of ours, which he
thought I might be able, in some measure, to undo."

" And do you believe that was really his sole object ? "

She raised her beautiful, truthful eyes to his face, and
replied firmly, " No, not now. f firmly believed it then,
and I still fully believe he had persuaded himself that was
his sole object. But now, when I realize the madness of
the whole proceeding, I cannot quite credit it."

•* Then, Lady Ellinor, there is the very source of all
danger ; mutual self-deception with regard to your feelings
towards each other, until a terrible catastrophe shall
undeceive you both when too late. It is no diificult
matter for anyone, who is neither devoid of, nor has
outlived all human feeling, to understand what is the
aching void, the unsatisfied yearning of a nature so capable
as yours of deep, passionate devotion. This void Sir
Maurice Adair proposes to himself to fill with a devotion
which he sophistically seeks to persuade himself is blame-
less, so long as it is blameless in action : but which, in its
mere existence, is a sin, when offered to the wife of another
man. And you, too, are misleading yourself, trying to
believe such a position blameless, and possible to remain
unchanged. I should be utterly false to my sacred office,
did I not at once tell you that you are both sinning, in
indulging any such sentiments as are clearly gaining a
constantly increasing hold upon you both. Their mere
existence is a sin, which is weakening your moral for^e, and
paving the way for more grievous sin. No woman is safe

250

Jail us llrphiiva.

•!

;!i

'.-ii:..;

or blamnlcsH wlio accepts the niOHt fully tnoritwl sympathy,
wher*! her huHhand \h in question, from any man, save u
father or a l»roth»»r. You are both deluding yourselves as
to the nature of the feelings you are enco.ira^'int;, and to
what has that fact already led you ? Sir Maurice asks, and
you agree to an act wli/oh the merest accident might have
C'lused to become a lasting stain upon your name ; the
source of an irri^parablo breach between your husband and
yourself. Does not the very madness of the risk, which
you yourself admit, prove that the sentiment which made
you blind to it, for the moment, must be a more dangerously
misleading one than yon will even now allow ? "

Her eyes flashed and her cheek crimsoned. She was not
used to such plain speaking. " You are a stern censor, Mr.
Hepburn," she said.

" Not stern. Lady Ellinor. God forbid. Do you think,
at this very moment, 1 could not oflfer you a deeper, more
heartful, sympathy than Sir Maurice Adair can lay at your
feet, because it wouM be a more purely unselfish one, save
for the knowledge that all such synipathy carries with it in
insidious poison t Shonid the time ever come that any
sacrifice on my part^osn really benefit you, you will know
then, v/hether or not there is any sternness in m;/ feelings
towards you. it is only so long as T see you still inclined
to cling to a deadly delusion, that I may spare no effort,
even if it be one that pains and wounds you, to arouse you
to a sense of your danger."

" What would you have me do ?" she asked, in an almost
inaudible voice.

" In the fi»st place, give credence to the truth : which is,
that Under this cold reserved exterior, your husband
cherishes a far deeper, warmer love for you than you at all
imagine. In the second place, avoid entirely all association

n HK/'n

ifrjJ,

tn rn.

2.') I

L an almost

with Sir Maurice Adair, until Buch time aH you can fpf»l his
society has no very 8p«>cial attraction lor you. '

Hhe shook her head. " I nii^^'ht do the last ; l>ut helieve
the first — no, it is impossible. I must he the clearest judj^e
on that point."

*• No, Lady Kllinor. The very bitterness of your own
most natural disappointment rises up like a thick mist
between you and the trutii. Strive, 1 beseech you, to give
credence to what less deeply interested eyes can perceive,
or assuredly, sooner or later, you will learn it amid the
keen anguish of a life long remorse."

" Hush," she said suddenly, and instantaneously he
caught the sound of approaching footsteps. The door
opened, and General Farquharson came in.

" Ellinor, my love," he said, "I am not going to let you
remain at home all this lovely afternoon. I have ordered
the waggonette, and Mr. Hepburn will go with us for a
drive ; and return, I hope, to dinner."

" Not this evening, thank you, General. 1 must be home
by six o'clock."

" Then, we will drive round by the manse, and leave you
there on our way home. Go and get ready, dear child," he
said, laying his hand with a most paternally affectionate
manner on Lady Ellinor's shoulder, " and let me see if
the fresh air ynW not bring some colour into those pale
cheeks."

" I will be ready in a few moments," Lady Ellinor said,
in a somewhat hurried tone, as she rather abruptly left the
room. James Hepburn had turned away, chafing under a
feeling almost bordering on shame, as though some shade of
discredit attached to the painful position into which he had
been forced. But he had little time to think. General
Farquharson turned to him the moment the door closed.

2:)2

Jiiiiu'H Ift'phttrn.

•' You iiiuKt Hur«ly not* whitt I inean, Mr. Ilephurn ; tlmt
lia<ly Kllinor in not quit(; hf^rRclf ; a little worn and pale."

Ho would feign have had a few moments tor rutlection ;
hut he ooulil do no mon* than try to give due weight to all
the vari(nl (lashes of thought for which there was time,
whih' the slower process of speech went on.

'* Yes," he said, '* I do see a change in Lady Ellinor.
Thi-» is the Hrst time I have had a chance of really observing
her caret'ully since the night of your servants' ball in the
autumn. She does not look .so bright and well as she did
then."

" I wihh I could see whnt it is best to do," Geniii'al
Farquharsori said anxiously -" Lady Ellinor does not care
for a London season. We are generally in London for a
fortnight or three weeks, and she is always ^lad to get away."

During that brief space James Hepburn had taken his
resolution, and he spoke firmly.

" None the less, I think you will be well to try change
of Hny sort. Life here is rather secluded. It is quite pos-
sible that, unconsciously to herself, Lady Ellinor stands in
need of both more variety, and more society. Patients are
not always, themselves, the best judges of the remedies
most suitable for them. I am convinced you will do well
to try and bring her under the influence of fresh scenes,
and fresh acquaintances."

" There is yachting," replied the General. She is fond
of the sea."

" Nothing could be better, I should say."

"If we could get up a nice party," he went on thought-
fully. " A solitude a deux, on board a yacht, would hardly
be a panacea for dullness. I think I might arrange it.
Only I fear I mu.st leave out," he added with a laugh, " one
of the the best yachting companions I know."

JiinuH Ih'ithnrn.

2:>a

o," Genijial

$he is fond

" Whom ? "

''Sir Maurice Adxir. H<> has a fund of life and gpiritH
iihout him which tuakcs him invaluahh; for a yachting
party. But I am afraid he is a littU; inclined to ningo hin
wingH. For hiw own sake it is hardly fair to place tempta-
tion in his way, for ho is a most honourable nmn."

Now he had his chance, given to him in a most un-
lorseen way. He spoke gravely, almost sternly. "You
have, by your own action. General Farquharson, invited
ray interference in your doniestic atl'aiis. You must for-
give my speaking very plainly. I think the wrong of such
an action would be to Lady Ellinor. My own opinion is
that for some time your perfect faith in her has been
leading you to place her in a false position."

" Mr. Hepburn ! " What can you mean ? "

*' That you do not j,'ive sufficient weight to the fact that
a woman possessed of such unusual beauty and charm as
Lady Ellinor^ when married to a man much older than her-
self, is always specially the mark for scandal and malice.
You fail in your duty when you throw upon her the onus of
keeping alw^ays within due bonds the admiration she cannot
fail to attract, and of which the slightest exhibition is sure
to be the theme for a thousand ill-natured observations. I
will dare to go further, and tell you that Sir Maurice
Adair's admiration for Lady Ellinor has been commented
upon. It was observed at the Election ball, last year, that
she had to hold him in check. You must forgive me if I
carry the liberty you have accorded me so far as to say,
that I think the gravest of possible failures on your part,
in those responsiValities which you admit a man takes on
himself, in marrying a beautiful woman so much his junior
in age, would be in your encouraging any sort of intimate
association between Lady Ellinor and Sir Maurice Adair.

254

Jam4'H Ifpphnrv.

mil

" I — , I can hardly understand — ."

I mean that at^ontions which would hardly be noticed
were you a young man nearer Lady Ellinor'a own age, are
certain to be observed and commented on under the circum-
stances. If you encourage Sir Maurice Adair's visits, you
may easily place her in the painful position of feeling that
scandal is likely to be excited by attentions which she would
yet feel it difficult to repel without seeming to attach too
much importance to them. Various slight circunistancps
make me think you will be taking a most judicious step in
putting an end, for the present, to all intercourse between
Lady Ellinor and Sir Maurice Adair."

" You amaze me, Mr. Hepburn. I never thought. But
see, there comes the carriage. liCt us go. I will think
over what you have said. At any rate T tii^nk you heartily
for having been so out-spoken. You bring back to my
mind most vividly and startingly a brief conversation I had
with Lady Ellinor just after that ball. You have been a
true friend, and again I thank you. Come, I hear Lady
Ellinor's voice in the hall."

It was the utmost he could dare to say, for almost every
sentence he uttered was fraught with eminent danger of
some betrayal of confidence most sacred, and yet most re-
pugnant to him. There seem^a to him something almost
approaching dishonour in the bare fact of being aware of
both circumstances and sentiments strongly influencing
Lady Ellinor Farquharson's matrimonial relations to her
husband, of which that husband, to whom they were of such
unspeakable importance, was wholly unsuspicious. He
grimly smiled, even, at the thought of Himself, the Free
Church minister, thus thrust into the very position of a
confessor. But would the use he had tried to make of his
knowledge be of any avail ? He hoped, or tried to hope,

255

r be noticed

he might have succeeded in cutting ofT the head of this
particular weed. But so iong as General Farquharson con-
tinued atterly blind to the temperament and needs of his
young wife, wh»t hope was there but that other weeds
would spring up ? Some day both would awake to a dis-
covery of the fatal mistake which was sapping the founda-
tions of their peace and happiness. But would it not be
to the wail of that dismal dirge, too late !

As in all men of strong tender chivalrous nature, there
was in James Hepburn a deep well spring of romance ; and
as he pondered over the whole subject, in the light of that
heartfelt devotion to EUinor Farquharson, which he knew
in his inmost soul to be too pure to let him shrink from
admitting it fully to himself, there grew up within him that
ardent wish, which is in itself the most fervent of prayers,
that he might be himself her saviour, at the cost of any
sacrifice even of life itself; if only he might know before he
died, that he had saved her ; had rescued her from the perils
which were thickening around her, and that her happiness
was firmly established upon a solid and lasting basis.

ill'

256

Jartiea Hpphum>.

ClIAPTE", XX.

MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM.

1 :,:

1 ' « 1 ■ ■

\ 1 ''

111 t!i'

A GREAT stillness seemed to lie upon society in Mos-
giel, but it was not altogether a wholesome stillnens.
Tt was more akin to that ominous hush of nature under
which animals are apt to become restless and uneasy, and,
as is often the case with that hush, it was broken now and
again by the rustle and stir of a sudden breath passing
across it and dying away again.

These momentary stirrings of the social atmosphere
usually took the form of grecat gatherings of women at one
another's houses for afternoon tea, gatherings from which
the daughters of the house, if there chanced to be any,
were rigorously excluded. They had proved themselves
valuable opportunities for the interchange of thought and
opinion, and had really, without any distinct organization,
established themselves upon a regular and systematic basis.

Mrs. Campbell had never forgiven Mr. Hepburn for what
she was pleased to terra his abominable rudeness ; and no
sooner did she hear of the manse tragedy than she set off
to discuss the whole bearings of the question with Mrs.
Watson. She had no very definite idea as to exactly what
had happened, but there seemed to be a certain shade of
discredit involved in the bare fact that a manse should be
the scene of any incident necessitating the intervention of
the police and the procurator-fiscal. That the girl's body
had been found on the beach "vas about all she knew ; but
she felt very sure that young women in service in ministers'

Jame^ Hepbicni.

267

houses ought not to l)e on the heach under any circumstances
likely to result in their Ijeing drowned.

But Mrs. Watson was in a very much more forward state
of both information and righteous indignation. Mr. Cruick-
shanks had heard of the tragedy with extreme but wholly
misdirected satisfaction from the very first moment. He
was very well aware of Robert Blackwood's relations to the
girl and of his fiery jealousy ; and he had little doubt it
would turn out that he had made away with her in some
access of jealous frenzy. This would of course lead to
Blackwood's removal from Mossgiel, an occurrence which
appeared to Mr. Cruickshanks quite worth the murder of a
girl who was never in the least likely to be of the slightest
consequence to himself. As long as Blackwood persisted
in his, as Mr. Cruickshanks viewed it, extraordinary infatu-
ation for the minister, that worthy elder felt that he lived
with a sword suspended over his head by a cord, many
strands of which, he felt convinced, must have been cut by
his own untimely outburst of temper ; for the possibility of
the minister not retaining a revengeful memory of the in-
sulting remark levelled at him was one of a nature not
easy for Mr. Cruickshanks to grasp.

But when the real circumstances of the transaction came
to his knowledge then he exulted with great exultation. To
get rid of Robert Blackwood was a thing greatly to be de
sired ; but to get rid of the minister — the possibility almost
took his breath away. With faculties quickened by dreaa
he grasped all the circumstances of the case as clearly and
rapidly as Mr. Laing had predicted, and every fresh sight
of the minister's grave, thoughtful, pre-occupied face filled
him with new joy. His enemy seemed actually to be giving
himself into his hands, for what could be simpler or more
natural than to express constantly his regret at seeing Mr.

.. *':.■'-

258

JdmcH Hephu i 'u.

Hepburn apparently failing so much both in health and
spirits, and having thus drawn out the almost certain re-
joinder, that he had had a great shock, to reply by litth'
more than significant gestures which would lose nothing of
their effect by being susceptible of varied interpretations.
Fea; less moral courage was not a characteristic his own ex-
perience enabled him to picture vividly to himself, and it
seemed to him that any minister, involved in such an en-
tanglement as the present one must ere long tind himself in
a position which would make him very glad to resign. From
this point of view Mr. Hepburn's possession of private
fortune became a pleasing subject of reflection. It would
remove many difficulties which might beset other ministers
in taking such a step.

These tactics he had tried with great success on Mrs.
Watson. He was glad of an opportunity of testing their
efficiency in the first instance on a person sure under any
circumstances to take a correct view of the subject. It was
a sort of preliminary practice, calculated to insure the use
of his weapons deftly and easily in more important cases.

Mrc. Watson was much in Mrs. Campbell's state of mind
when she chanced to enter Mr. Cruickshank's shop just to
talk a little over things in general. But though Mr. Cruick-
shanks did not suggest one single fact, she left it, she her-
self declared, with her blood fairly congealed with horror.
* A great moral darkness seemed to be looming before her,
out of which stood distinct only the minister's figure ; all
the rest were but dim, sliadowy suggestions of appalling
possibilities. It chanced to be too late that day for her to
seek sympathetic communion with any other kindred spirit,
and it was on the very next afternoon xhat Mrs. Campbell
appeared in search of information.

The conference was long, and out of it grew that never

Jainetf Hepburn.

•25J)

definitely organized system of procedure which was found
to answer so admirably. Forages in all directions, or care-
ful examination and critical considenvtion of spoil already
accumulated, became the occupation of the hour, with
every now and again a little social gathering to hear iresh
news or tt«ke into consideration newly excogitated aspects
of the question. Nor was Mrs. Campbell the only outsider
who was drawn into the vortex of speculation. Within a
month after Mary Warrender had been laid in her grave
all, or pretty near all, society in Mossgiel was in a state of
suppressed ferment. Mrs. Lorrimer, having chanced to he
away from home for about ten days, was one of the last
initiated. She was rather a blunt, outspoken woman when
the fancy took her, and she insisted on an unveiled frank-
ness of statement which had always been tacitly avoided.

" I do wish," she said, turning round from the tea table,
sugar-tongs in hand, after some artfiTlly involved remark
from Mrs. Haigg, " that you would say outright what it is
you do suspect. Everyone has a hint or a shrug, or a half
suggestion ready, but I've never yet heard anyone say out
what is suspected"

"Well, really, my dear Mrs. Lorrim^^r," replied Mrs.
Watson, " when we give you the facts surely you can draw
the inferences for yourself ? "

*• I suppose you mean then that you actually believe Mr.
Hepburn made away with the girl."

" Oh, that is putting it too strongly. But just consider
the facts. The girl started to go along the river bank,
within an hour from the time when Mr. Hepburn admits he
was on the bridge. Moreover, he was seen from Castle
Hill Farm walking along the road in a very downcast, moody
sort of way. The girl is never seen alive again, and every-
one can see how changed Mr. Hepburn is in appearance
since that day '

■m'

ru, .

1(14
•■<■ .

U ^ :

260

Jaiiiefi H( ifhurn.

'* But his coming .aloii«^ tlu- road is nothing. I dare say
if you asked you would lind a dozen people had done the
same. I suppose he had been visiting in that direction."

" No, indeed," put in Mrs. Haigg, " that is another sus-
picious feature in the case. He had not been visiting. I
was d(!termined, if it were possible to clear him it sh.'^uld be
done, and 1 have been personally to every house in that
direction, on one pretext or another, and he was not at one
of them that day. One lad passed across the bridge while
he was standing on it, looking very earnestly over the
parapet down into the water. But not a soul besides knows
anything about what he was doing that afternoon."

" Well, but men in their sober senses don't playfully take
up people like stones and throw them into rivers. What
object could he have ? "

The virtuous matrons all looked at one another, with
varying degrees of appreciativeness of the question.

" Really, my dear," Mrs. Watson said, " You are assum-
ing too much girlish inexperience. As I said before, take
the facts, and draw your own inferences. Mr. Hepburn is
a bachelor ; the girl was young, pretty and giddy, and they
were living in the same house."

" But, after all, you know, that is only one hypothesis,"
put in Mrs. Campbell. " He may be only accessory after
the fact, and be keeping silence to shield, probably in thp'.
case, his great friend Robert Blackwood. But I think my-
self it is quite impossible to avoid the conclusion, looking at
all the facts, that Mr. Hepburn knows something about the
matter which he is holding back. And that in itself is, I
think, very discreditable to a minister."

" My husband thinks," said Mrs. Wylie, " if he was wise,
he would resign at once."

" Well, he'll have to go," said Mrs. Haigg, " sooner or

James Hepburn.

261

lie was wise,

sooner or

later, there can be no doubt of that. And it would certainly
be better to resign than to be turned out. It is fortunate
the poor man lias some private mer«ns, for it is clear the end
of his ministerial career is not very fp.r off."

These were the increasing rippb h of an ever widening
circle from that central agitation which Mr. Cruickshanks
took good care should be actively maintained, and which he
watched with constantly increasing satisfaction, and convic-
tion that his enemy was given into his hands by a quiet
marked occurrence of Providential circumstances. What
ever happened, now, he felt certain that Mr. Hepburn's re-
signation of his post could only be a matter of time.

\nd all this time James Hepburn had not the faintest
suspicion of what was astir. The death of poor Mary War-
render lay heavy on his soul, for try as he might he could
.not establish there any credence of the opinion that she had
come fairly by her end ; and the necessity for him to keep
silence regarding a circumstance not unlikely, he thought,
to prove a clue which, carefully followed up, might clear up
the matter, was inexpressibly bitter to him. In his secret
musings he sometimes felt almost disposed to accept for him-
self Mrs. Campbell's alternative, and call himself an acces-
sory after the fact.

Strathellon also was a heavy burden upon him. A most
kind and cordial note from General Farquharson, thanking
him with manly candour for his plain speaking, had told him
that the yachting expedition was a settled thing, and that
they were leaving Strathellon at once, and should be away
for at least six months. So far so good, perhaps that parti-
cular weed was uprooted ; but none the less the minister
sighed more than he rejoiced whenever he thought of Lady
Ellinor, and her loving, upright, but terribly obtui^e and in-
veterately military husband. All these depreiising consitJer-
(17)

i:l '

262

James Hepburn.

ations, naturally, by no means tended to decrease that air
of gravity, almost of gloom, which was being so eagerl)
watched.

The faithful friends who were cognizr^nt of all that was
afloat v/ere growing daily more anxious and uneasy.

" It is not the least use of trving to V'e blind to the fact, '
Mr. Lain„/ said, discussing th res v'l' &i the Tweedies,

"that the circumstances are a ilitM vkward. There is
nothing that any rational human ug wcnld liold worth a
thought, in the case of a man of Hepburn b ci^aracter. But
there is just enough for malice to lay hold of, and prop up
scandal with. And that is just what the old rascal Cruick-
shanks knows."

" Is not the time come for your last chance ? " asked Dr.
Tweedie.

" Not yet, I think. You see Blackwood is a terribly un-
certain quantity, He is as headstrong as any mule Once
take him into confidence, we have not the slightest power of
controlling his action. If he chanced to take it into his
head to go and threaten to blow Cruickshanks's brains out,
it would be an offence against the law which one could easily
condone. But it would not help this case."

" Besides," put in Mrs. Tweedie, " it will not do to show
too great eagerness in hunting up evidence in Mr. Hep-
burn's favour. It would seem half like an admission of
doubt. But should not something be said to him 1 I do
not believe he has the faintest idea what is going on. It
will give him a terrible shock if it comes upon him sud-
denly."

" I had been thinking of that," replied Mr. Laing ; " but
I hardly think the time is come for that step either. I\ is
just possible, even yet, the scandal may die out, though I do
not think it probable. 1 don't think any action can be

Jaines Hephu7*v.

263

taken of any consequence without our jjottinpj scent of it in
time to warn Hepburn. But I wish to Heaven the thin;^
was settled some way. I dont think I have slept soundly
a single night since that poor girl was drowned."

In this uncertain state the mjitter hung on for some tinu'^
longer, waiting for one of these trivial accidents which, in
the end, are generally the immediate causes cf great ex-
plosions. And at last that accident occurred, in the appar-
ently innocent circumstance of the minister taking up f\
wrong book by mistake.

He was reading, and chanced upon what he thought was
a wrong quotation. Reaching over to a book-rack for a
small volume he wanted to consult, he accidentally took,
instead of it, the Free Church Hymnal. Forthwith the
thought flashed upon him that that meeting, which had been
so obviously the mouse brought forth by the mountain in
labour, had been adjourned to that day six months. Surely
the date was drawing near enough to render it strange he
had heard nothing about it ? He consulted his pocket book.
It was even so. The day six months was not many weeks
ahead. What, he somewhat cynically questioned with him-
self, could this strange apathy portend, in a case where a
tierce wrangle might be coniidently anticipated ?

A meeting of the kirk-session was to be held the next
evening, and he resolved then to mention the subject. There
was not a very great deal of business to be got through ; but
he was very soon aware that in some way things were not
quite as they should be — that something was adrift some
where. He was not slow to feel the influence of subtle
conditions, and he was very conscious, all through the course
of the meeting, of something not quite as usual in the moral
atmosphere. Some of the members were visibly constrained
— some far too ostentatiously quite at their ease ; and while

264

JmiWH Hepburn.

i '

soiuo of the usually talkative ineiubers seemed disposed to
be silent, others not generally forward in taking active part
in the business, seemed inclined to be otiiciously energetic.

When the regular business was disposed of, Mr. Hepburn
spoke of the adjourned meeting,, and the fact that the day
for it to be held was not far distant. Instantly a great
raon.l chill fell upon the assembly. For a moment there
was I dead pause ; then, as if conscious of its strangenes.s,
Mr. Watson, with evidently assumed carelessness, said —

" Well, yes. That is true enough. But I don't know
that the meeting need positively be held all the same. 1
don't know how it may be with others ; but I haven't heard
any wish about it expressed of late. In fact, I think the
whole question has rather dropped out of mind."

" That is quite my opinion, sir," said Mr. Cruickshanks,
V ith emphatic solemnity. " I believe the question has been
quite lost sight of lately, and I tor one must say I think it
would be a very great pity if it should be brought up again
at present. What do you say, sir ? " and he turned point-
edly to Mr. Laing, whom he carefully avoided addressing, as
a usua' thing. Mr. Laing perfectly understood the under
current of malice, and hit out savagely.

" I don't know what I think, but I know what 1 most
devoutly hope ; and that is, that whenever the meeting is
held, the congregation will not make itself quite so confound-
edly ridiculous as on the last occasion."

A hesitating remark from another member was lost in a
shuffle of uprising, and sudden discovery that every one had
urgent reason for wishing to get home at* once, as the regu-
lar business before the meeting was settled. And in a won-
derfully short space of time the minister and Mr. Laing
found themselves in the street on their way home.

'' Laing, what in the name of fortune does all this mean ? "
asked Mr, Hepburn.

Jamett Hepburn.

205

Mr. Laing made no answor for the moment. He was
rapidly calculating relative values. Then he said, gravely —

♦* It means what it will give you a great shock to heari
Hepburn. But it is time you should Ikj told. I will come
with you to the manse."

" Not Lady Ellinor ? ' he said, in an agitated tone.

" Oh, no. Nothing of the least consequence to any one
save yourself."

"Then I'm all right," he said — a horrible dread lifted off
him, that their meeting in the wood had been observed and
misconstrued.

Seated in the manse study, Mr. Laing, with legal clear-
ness and precision, explained to him the whole case, empha-
sizing, as the pivot on which the whole turned, Cruick-
shanks's ardent desire to make Mossgiel so intolerable to
him that he should be forced to resign.

James Hepburn's face grew very stern as the recital went
on, but he never interrupted or showed a symptom of any
emotion. After Mr. Laing had ceased speaking, he still sat
silent, gazing thoughtfully into the empty grate.

" What are you thinking about, Hepburn ? " Mr. Laing
asked at length. '

" I was revolving the question whether a reputation from
boyhood, which is what the world terms perfectly unblem-
ished, ought to be held sufficient evidence against the chance
of a man who has been thirteen years in holy orders seducing
an innocent girl, and then murdering her, to save exposure,
I suppose. Upon my word I can't quite make up my
mind."

" My dear fellow, you don't suppose people really believe
it ? "

" The answer to that depends on the answer to the first
question. If you rule that evidence not sufficient, I don't

266

James Hepburn.

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see why lliey shouldti't believe it. The circumiitances are
uwkward, to miy the least of it."

" But <;ootl heavens, Hepburn, you don't mean that now
you know wliat is ^oing on, you cannot upset it all by prov-
ing where you were, and what you were doing?"

The minister turned a curious glance upon him. "That
is just what I cannot do, Laing," he replied calmly, •' and
that is the strong point in the whole case. Sitting here, I
can tell you exactly what I was doing. I was away up the
valley, in the Strathellon wood ; far up in the private
grounds. But you see I cannot bring trees and stones to
bear witness to the fact, and as it seems such an exceed-
ingly unlikely thing for me to be occupied in strolling about
a wood, 1 don't think a true account of my whereabouts
would much mend matters."

Mr. Laing sat aghast. If the minister could not prove
positively that he was far from the spot at the time, he had
at least never doubted that he would be able to produce
some account of his doings, plausible in itself, and at least
susceptible of indirect proof. But this was terrible ! That
on that day, of all days in the year, he should have been
occupied in such an unusual and absolutely unproveable
manner, seemed to him like the action of a malignant fate.
After another brief spell of silence, Mr. Hepburn remarked,

" Cruickshanks may succeed, after all."

" No, faith, not if mortal effort can prevent it. But I am
taken aback, Hepburn, I admit. It is an unfortunate coin-
cidence. Tell me what you think of doing ? "

The minister rose, and drawing back a curtain looked out
into the darkness of the summer night for a brief space.
Then he came and sat down again, saying —

" No, Laing, I think not. I am not yet entirely re-
solved as to what course I shall follow. But at any rate, I

Jaiiiita Hepbuni.

267

ances an;

will not have no nian'8 advice, leivst of all that of a peiHonal
friend like yourself. This is not a matter in which I ought
to be considered at ell. The cre<lit of the Church and the
welfare of the congregation are the only points to be kept
in view. Your personal friendnhip for myself, my con-
sciousness of which, remember, Liiing, is a great support to
me in a strangely trying moment, would none the less in-
terfere with your judgment in the matter. Neither am I
myself quite a fitting judge. I must tind some course
which will as far as possible insure a decision on those two
issues alone."

"Hepburn, it is preposterous. Al man cannot be ex-
pected not even to stand up for his own good name."

" All that can be expected of any man, my dear fellow,
is that he shall conscientiously try to act up to his lights.
My lights are burning rather dimly at present, I must ad-
mit. You may well imagine this is a trmendous shock to
me. I must have time to think."

" Will you not at least promise to let me know before-
hand what you intend doing, if on a promise that I make
no effort to sway you beyond the bare mention of any fact
that I think might influence your action and may be un
known to you V

*' You legal serpent ! And give you a chance to thwart
me behind my back, if your affection prompted any such
nefarious attempt. No, I will not."

" Very good. Then it is war to the knife between us." I
will take my own way and tell you nothing, and we shall
see who will win. No, I have lothing more to say," he
continued, as the minister seemed inclined to speak. "AVar
is declared. There is no further room for diplomatic pro-
cedure. I think, however, our enmity is not of such a
nature as to preveilt us shaking hands upon it. Good
night, Hepburn."

268

James Hephum.

'* Good nig)jt, and God bless you," was the response, and
witli a hearty grasp of hands they parted.

Mr. Laing went straight to the Tweedies, looking and
declaring himself better satisfied on the whole than he had
been fcr some tune.

' Hepburn is jsitively not quite sane," he said, "on the
doctrine of self-sacrifice. A man with notions like these
among all these villainous brutes and screaming jays."

" My dear Mr. Laing," interrupted IVIrs. Tweedie in a
tone of remonstrance.

" My dear Mrs. Tweedie, I beg your pardon ; but one
must open the safety valve some times."

*• Pray, remember that a supporter who loses his temper
is a very broken reed, to say nothing stronger."

" Humph ! I believe you are right. I will let off" the
steam in future only in my own room with the door locked.
However, our course now is clear. He must not be al-
lowed to risk ruining himself in this reckless way. We
must leave no means untried to gain some light upon the
actual circumstances of the girl's end. I will see Black-
wood to-morrow."

*' He at least will leave no stone unturned to aid Mr.
Hepburn," said Mrs. Tweedie. " God speed your errand."

U IHt''^

'l-r

James Hepburn.

269

Chapter XXI.

A LAST CHANGE.

THAT errand all the same required caution. Mr. Laing
was known to be one of the minister's most intimate
friends, and not to be in the habit of visiting the Black-
woods, two facts which rashness on his part might cause to
emphasize themselves somewhat strongly in uneasy con-
sciences, if there were such. He therefore resolved to
content himself with merely leaving a message at the
Blackwoods' door, to the effect that he wished particularly
to see RoV)ert, and wanted him to call that evening without
fail. To his no small astonishment his knock was an-
swered by Robert himself.

"The very man I wanted," he said. "I don't want to
stop now, but I want to speak to you about a matter of
great importance. Can you come and see me this evening T

" Yes, sir. I've naething to stap me the night. What
time will I be for to call ? "

" About nine."

" I'll be there, sir."

Mr. Laing carefully made his way through various back
streets to the higher parts of the town again, and was
leisurely strolling along one of the principal streets when
he met Mr. Lorrimer.

" Ah, Laing, well met," he said. " I wanted to speak to
you. My dear fellow, you should really take some steps
about your minister ; about this scandal, I mean."

" Blow up a trumpet in the new moon and spread it far
and wide ? "

r. ■

II-

:i!»>-

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270

James HephuTm.

"Of course not. But take counsel among yourselves
what is the best thing to do. The scandal really is spread-
ing. My wife tells me in every house she goes to she hears
it discussed. Probably we, being outsiders, hear more than
you do ; and really, you know, the fac^s are awkward."

" Well, but we can't unmake the facts by talking about
them."

" Oh, if you are determined to do nothing ! But I do
assure you I think the matter is growing more serious than
you suppose."

" No, I think I estimate it at its true value. But I will
look up the law on slander when I go home. We may
chance to need it. You had better give Mrs. Lorrimer a
hint. It is precious easier to get drawn into a case of that
sort than to get safe out of it again,"

This little incident made it still clearer, however, to Mr.
Laing tlnit the time for action was come and that the case
was serious ; more serious than enabled him to regard with
equanimity the extremely slender character of the reed on
which he leaned. If it was really the fact that uhe girl
had been drowned accidentally without anyone seeing or
hearing anything of it, then Robert Blackwood would be
powerless, and it was impossible to see how any evidence,
save the indirect evidence of personal character, could be
brought forward, as against the really unfortunate circum-
stances of the case.

Punctually at nine o'clock Blackwood appeared, grave
and taciturn as usual.

" I suppose you are rather surprised at my request ? "
Mr. Lainij said.

" Weel, sir, T canna just think what ye can want wi'

me.

" I want you to do, or try to do, what I know you will

James Hepburn.

271

e circum-

undertake with right good will — a very great service to Mr.
Hepburn."

" I'll be glad to do that if it's in my power. Mr. Hep-
burn's aye been gude to me."

" If you can do what I want, Blackwood, you'll repay
tenfold any kindness Mr. Hepburn can have done to you."

"I'm no ouite sure ye're a judge, sir. But let me
hear."

Then Mr. Laing began his recital. He had in his mind
the reiiembrance of his own and Mr. Hepburn's tirst im-
pression that Blackwood knew something more about the
business than he choose to own, and he had purposely placed
himself in a position to enable him to watch Blackwood's
face while he talked to him. He was foiled, however. He
had not spoken many sentences when his listener suddenly
moved in his chair, and bending forward, rested his elbow
on his knee and covered his face with his hand. Mr. Laing
involuntarily paused.

"Speak on, sir," said Blackwood quietly, "I'm listenin'."

And without movement or iiiterruption of any sort, he
remained seated in the position he had assumed, until Mr.
Laing had finished his account.

" It's the st'j'Tigest piece o' wark ever I chanced upon,"
he then remarked, without changing his attitude.

" There is one thing, Blackwood, I would give a good
deal to know, and that is whether you think the poor girl's
death was an accident ? "

Blackwood raised his head and looked full at him.

" Why wad ye want to ken that, sir ? "

" Because I confess both Mr. Hepburn and myself were
struck with the impression, when we first saw you and told
you she was missing, that you had some knowledge or suspi-
cion on the subject."

272

James Hepburn.

h\4^ A

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" Weel, sir, yer question's ane I'm no just prepared to
answer. I canna but see its no a very likely thing for Mary
to fall into the water that gait. But there seems nae evi-
deii:'> the ither way."

Mr. Laing's heart sank a little. The man's manner was
more cold and indifferent than he had expected, when a
question so important to Mr. Hepburn was under discussion.
A sort of dread came over him as to whether he might pos-
sibly have made a fatal mistake. Could it be that Black-
wood's easily aroused jealousy had been kindled respecting
the minister himself, and that he shared the suspicion which
was so fatally difficult to dissipate ?

" Well, I confess I am disappointed to hear that, Black
wood," he said with a sigh, *' for I had a hope you had some
sort of suspicion, the following up of which might tend to
clear up the mystery. I suppose, then, there is not much
chance of your being able to do anything ?"

" I canna tell till I try, sir. Ye've ta'en me by surprise-
I've been a guid bit a^i^a this some time, an' I've nae heard
what was to the foie. I maun think it ower :! iiit "

" I wish you would let me know the result of youi think-
ing," Mr, Laing said anxiously. '* You i.i ow vye lawyc . i
get a good deal of practice that is useful in cases of this sort.
If you chance upon any clue, I might be able to help you as
to the best way of working it."

" Na, sir, if I work, I maun work my ain gait. I'll bear
in mind what ye've tauld me, and if I can see ray way to
bein' o' ony use, I'll no be behind hand. An' now, I'll be
goin^, if there's naoithin' mair ye want wi' me."

"No. I ti.,w-l- tbrtis all."

" Grude nicht, tun, sir. '

" Good nigh'j," Mr Laing replied, and in another moment
he was alo.e.

James Hepburn.

273

Alone, and most thoroughly disappointed and cast down.
His last weapon seemed to have shivered in his hands. The
minister impracticable, and BlackwocKl apparently coldly
indifferent, and if he spoke honestly, without a thread of
clue to follow. Look where he would there seemed to him
to be no reasonable ground for hope of such a thorough
clearance of the mystery as would alone be of essential ser-
vice to Mr. Hepburn.

He had not even the courage to go and see him. He felt
so ir iserably helpless. There was a large party in the con-
grcigation who would, he knew, loyally stand by the minister,
if he would sanction any action. But what could anyone
'.to so long as he stood determinedly aloof, apparently re-
soiv'-id to tight his own battle single handed, if in truth he
hii^i any intention of fighting at all ?

Thus several days passed, and then one day Mr. Laing
.•eceived a note from Mr. Hepburn, merely informing him
.i' the minister's wish to meet the elders and deacons, to-
>fcoher with a few leading members of the congregation, on
the evening of that day week, at the usual meeting place of
the kirK- session — a large room built for the special purpose
adjoiniiig the vestry.

•' What can he mean to do ? " Mr. Laing said to Dr.
Tweedie, who had, he found, received a similar summons ;
he being one of the leading members, but neither an elder
nor a deacon.

Dr. Tweedie could throw no light upon that point. He
had seen Mr. Hepburn the previous day, but he had made
no allusion to the subject.

*' Do, both of you, go round to the manse this evening,"
Mrs. Tweedie said, " and try what you can do with him.
It really is not right thus to keep all his friends at a dis-
tance. He must see, if you put it before him, that he is

274

Javfiea Hepburn.

I !

strengtln^ning the case against himself by acting thus. It
has all the appearance of his friends holding aloof from him,
because they have some misgivings."

" Well, if Tweedie will go, I will," said Mr. Laing ; and
then they fell to excogitating the most telling reasons they
could adduce.

A fruitless labour ! Within half an hour after they left
Dr. Tweedie's house, thay were back in the drawing-room
again.

" What, would he not see you ? " exclaimed Mrs. Tweedie
in blank dismay.

" He's gon« away."

" Cone % Where ? "

" Mrs. Findlay doesn t know. To some friend's house she
thinks. A stranger is to take the duty on Sunday, and ' 3
will be back the day before the meeting."

There was much excitement, and a multitude of aried
rumours after that unexpected appearance of a stranger in
the pulpit. Mr, Hepburn had gone to resign. The Pres-
bytery had interfered, and forbidden his assuming any
ministerial i unctions pending an inquiry into the scandal.
There was even a rumour that he had been arrested. Mr.
Laing could not resist hunting up Blackwood, to make sure
he know how urgent the matte?' had become.

" I t^.on't think there can be any doubt," he said, " that
Mr. Hepburn means to take some decisive steps at this
meeting. If you art to do any good, Blackwood, it'll have
to be before then."

" When will the meeting be, sir ? "

Mr. Laing named day and hour. " For heaven's sake,
Blaf^kwood, tell me if you have any clue 1 " \

" I canna say that I ken aught mair than I did when ye
first spoke to me."

James Hepburn.

27o

Mr. Laing made i gesture almost of despair. " I've a
mind not to go to the meeting," he said. " If I have to go
there, and see that oily scoundrel Ouickshanks sniirking
and triumphant, I'm certain T shall assault him."

To Mr. Laing's no small amavjenient Blackwood broke
suddenly into a short, quick laugh.

" What on earth do you see to laugh at ? " he asked
sharply. Blackwood was grave again in a moment.

" No verr muckle, sir, indeed," he said. " It was just
the thought o' Cruickshanks'a face if ye did tackle him. I
doubt he's no a vera valiant body. But I wadna haud afl'
the meetin', Mr. Laing. It's nae the time for friens to
hang back, when a man's doun. Sic a meetin's not for the
like o' me, but if I was a gentleman like yoursel' I'd no be
awa frae the minister's side the noo.'"

" Well, Blackwood," said Mr. Laing, irritably, " I wish
you would act on the principle of friends not hanging back.
I cannot but think you might have done more than you
have."

" Ye dinna just exactly ken what I have or havn't done,
sir. I hope I'll be able to prove to ye ane o' these days
that I hae dune my best. A man can do nae niair."

Nothing more did Mr. Laing or any one else see of
Robert Blackwood, and even the hours of the dreaded day
passed away without his making any sign. Mr. Laing,
who was to dine with the Tweedies and accompany Dr.
Tweedie to the meeting, stayed indoors the whole day, hop-
ing every moment that some communication might reach
him. But when he entered the Tweedie's house he had no
cheering intelligence to impart.

It was but very little dinner that either of them touched,
and Mrs. Tweedie made no pretence to dine at all. " Be
sure and come straight home," she said to her husband as

27(i

James Hepburn.

they were preparing to start. " I shall not know a moment's
peace until I hear what has happened."

Mr. Hepburn, it appeared, had summoned a good many
of the congregation besides his office-bearers. The party
when all assembled numbered about twenty. He, it was
understood, was alone in the vestry, and had given orders
he should be to''^ as soon as the whole party had assembled.
Mr. Cruickshanks was there, moving about with an air of
easy complacency and subdued triumph, markedly at vari
ance with the demeanour of the majority.

" Heaven send we get to business soon," Mr. Laing mut-
tered to Dr. Tweedie. " The sight of that brute will be
too much for me if we don't."

At last Mr. Hepburn came in, pale and grave, but per-
fectly self-possessed. He greeted the assembled party with
slightly distant courtesy, only saying, "Shall we take our
seats 1 " and almost intuitively they all fell into the places
they were wont to till on ordinary occasions when meetings
of the sort were held. The minister was at the head of the
table, with the door at Ln right hand in the extreme corner
of the wall behind him. Mr. Laing and Dr. Tweedie were
a short distance from him on his right hand and Mr. Cruick-
shanks was at his left hand, nearly opposite to them. After
a moment's silence Mr. Hepburn rose and spoke.

" I have asked you to meet me here to-night, gentlemen,
in consequence of my becoming aware quite lately of cer-
tain suspicions under which I lie."

" Not suspicions," interrupted Mr, Watson. " It doesn't
come to that."

" We need not be so very particular about terms, though
I believe the word I used would rightly express the atti
tude of a part at least of the congregation. What I wish
in the first place to find out is whether the kirk-session has
taken any action in this matter."

James ffeplrum.

277

"No, certainly not," responded several voices, and Mr.
Laing added defiantly, ** and doesn't mean to do so either."

" Excuse me, Mr. Laing," interposed the suave tonrs of
Mr. Cruickshanks, " but I think there you are speaking as
an individual member."

" I am speaking, sir, as a member who lias no special
reason to suppose our kirk-session is composed of either
knaves or fools."

" Be quiet, Laing," whispered Dr. Tweedie ; " you'll only
do mischief."

" We should, of course, all regret falling so low as that
in Mr. Laing's opinion," replied Mr. Cruickshanks softly ;
" but still there may be differences of opinion on the main
point. If Mr. Hepburn will allow me, I should like to ask
him a question."

" Ask it," said the minister shortly.

" Well, sir, under the very painful circumstances which
have arisen, I am sure, to the very deep regret of all of us,
I would venture to ask whether it has not occurred to you
that perhaps the most satisfactory and least distressing
course for you, and for us all, would be for you to resign ? "

" No, sir. Such a step has not occurred to me as a satis-
factory course at all."

" Hear, hear ! " exclaimed Mr. Laing.

" Then, sir," continued Mr. Cruickshanks, " I am forced
to say what I had hoped to iind might be unnecessary, and
that is, that, painful and distressing as it will be to me to
take such a step. I shall feel it an imperative duty to move
that the matter be taken into consideration by the kirk,
session, with a view to the removal of a grave scandal, most
injurious to the welfare of the congregation. '

" You infernal blackguard," muttered Mr. Laing under
his breath ; and once more Dr. Tweedie interposed.
(18)

278

Jaiaes Hepburn.

" I uin glad you have Htatetl your intentions so clearly,
Mr. Cruickshanks," replied the minister; " it clears the road
for what I liavt; to say. 1 have convened tlie present meet-
ing because I wish not merely the kirk-session, whom it
principally concerns, but all the office-bearers, and the lead-
ing members of the congregation, should know exactly what
I intend. The only question to be considered in this matter
is, what is the beiit for the credit of the church, and the
welfare of this particular congregation, This I hold to be
a point which neither the congregation nor myself are com-
petent to decide. My own opinion would be of course value-
less, and I know that it would be vain to expect unanimity
of sentiment in the congregation. There are, I know, some
members of it who would rejoice to see me condemned " —
and he shot a scathing glance at Mr. Cruickshanks — "there
are many, on the other hand, whose personal friendliness
towards uie would render them partial judges. My intention,
therefore, is to request the Presbytery to take action in this
matter. To pronounce in tlie first instance, whether or not
they hold the facts to constitute any evidence against me ;
and then, quite irrespective of their decision on that point,
or of any question of justice to myself, to decide, solely and
simply with a view to the interests of the congregation and
church at large, whether they judge it best that I shall con-
tinue to hold my place here or resign. I shall be glad to
know whether the kirk-session hold this action on my part
sufficient to render any official action unnecessary ? "

Before anyone else had time to speak, Mr. Cruickshanks
again broke in.

" Again, Mr. Hepburn, I would venture to urge upon you
the numerous advantages to be gained by your resignation,
without any further painful discussion."

And again, Mr. Cruickshanks," the minister began, in a

((

James Hephnm.

27!>

tone of HUpprcHsed vehemence. Hut there he puuHcii
abruntlv. Mr; Cruickshunks hud turned ainioBt livid, and
was actually coweiing, with a terrttr-stricken gaze intently
Hxed upon the door, Mr. Hepburn glanced hastily over hia
shoulder. The door had been softly opened, and in the
doorway was standing Robert Blackwood.

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280

Jam^s Hepburn.

Chapter XXII.

A THUNDERBOLT.

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■iKi

THERE was a pause of breathless amazement. The minis,
ter's pale face grew still paler, and he caught his breath
with a sort of gasp. A flash of triumph crossed Mr. Laing's
face, but passed in a moment into a look of puzzled anxiety,
as he glanced at Mr. Hepburn. Blackwood stood eyeing
the assembly with perfect composure. There was no scowl,
rather an expression of resolute determination on his pale
face, and there was a dangerous glitter in his dark eyes.

" I'm sorry to disturb ye, gentlemen," he said, " but I've
a word to say to ye."

" I protest against this unseemly interruption," exclaimed
Mr. Cruickshanks, in a hoarse, trembling voice, starting up
from his seat. " I move that this unwarranted intruder be
at once turned out."

" It wad tak' the whole lot o' ye a' yer time to manage
that," replied Blackwood quietly.

" Is this to be allowed ? ' said Mr. Cruickshanks, with
growing agitation. " I call it monstrous. If the meeting
chooses to submit to such an insult, I shall at once retire."

The meeting did not seem inclined immediately to reply.
In the first place, it was very much astonished ; in the
second, Mr. Cruickshanks's almost frartic agitation rather
excited its curiosity to see what this unusual incident was
to lead to.

Mr. Cruickshanks paused for a moment, tightly clutching
the back of his chair with a trembling hand. Then, seeing
that no one seemed inclined to second his protest, he made

James Hepburn.

281

me to manage

for the door. Before he reached it, however, he came to an
abrupt halt. That part of the doorway which was not tilled
by Blackwood himself was occupied by a large, and, to say
the least of it, exceedingly grave looking mastiff. Black-
wood smiled grimly.

" I doubted that would be your little game, man, sae no
being sure I'd find a key, I've just brocht my ain. Ye can
stand where ye are, or gang back to yer seat, but ye dinna
leave this room till I've had my say."

With that he advanced into the room and closed the door.
" Lie doon, Jock," he said, and the dog deliberately stretched
himself across the doorway.

" That'll do. Now, gentlemen, I've no wish to be ony-
way uncivil j but I've that to say I mean ye sail all hear,
an' I wadna ju»t advise ye to try an' open that door till I
call the dog off. Ye'se best sit doon, Mr. Cruickshanks."

Mr. Cruickshanks mechanically obeyed, drawing out a
handkerchief as he did so to wipe away the drops thickly
clustering on his clammy forehead. The rest of the assembly
sat in mute amazement. Only Mr. Laing was watching
Blackwood with intense interest. Blackwood caught his
eye, as he came slowly forward, and stood beside the minister.

" Ye'll hae to admit I've done my best, sir," he said, with
a faint smile.

Mr. Hepburn was still trembling visibly. " Blackwood,"
he said in a tone almost of entreaty.

" Haud yer peace, minister. Time eneuch for ye to speak
when I've had my say. An' so, gentlemen, ye're no con-
tent, are ye, wi' lettin' yer screechin jays o' wives rin up and
doun the toun, blackin' the character o' the only man in the
place worth a thocht, but ye maun gang an mak' a serious
business o't. Eh, but ye're a set o' fause-hearted loons •
Could ye nae tell a gude man better than that when ye see ^

282

James Hepburn.

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lit.

him? Why, the maist glakit lassie in the kin^^dom wad In*
safe eneuch wi' the minister, an' that's mair than I'd say for
the maist o' ye, I'll tell ye, married men thoiij^h ye maistly
are. But syne ye've grown sae desperate virtuous, I've
come the noo to set yer minds at rest. 'Deed, an' it maun
be maist distressin' to a set o' godly elders and deacons to
think there's sic a like scandal hangin' ower the kirk. But
ye shall gang hanie an' sleep in peace the nicht — the maist
o' ye, that's to say," and he shot a scathing glance at the
pallid Cruickshanks. " It was just I myself that threw the
lassie into the water ; an' the minister kens nae mair aboot
it than ony bairn in the cradle."

Mr. Hepburn sank down in his chair, with a sound be-
tween a groan and a sob, and buried his white face in his
arms on the table. Blackwood laid his hand almost caress-
ingly on his shoulder, and said in a low voice, and with a
strangely softened countenance —

'* Haud up like a man, sir." Then he glanced round the
table, and with his flashing glance spoke again —

** I'm no gaun to tell ye ony mair aboot it. Ye'll hear
in gude time. But that's just the truth ; sae ye can just
gang harae and pit the stapper on yer wives' bletherin'
tongues — not that they're at the bottom o't. They've only
been the tools o' a clever rascal," and his eyes seemed to
blaze as again his glance fell on Mr. Cruickshanks's shrinking
form. " Ah, ye accursed scoundrel, yer time's come."

" Blackwood, Blackwood, I implore you," interrupted the
minister, starting up.

'* Na. na. sir. I told ye what I would do if he tried to

do ye ony ill turns, an' its just for that I waited for this

evenin'. Eh, ye're a nice set to be elders o' the kirk, the

maist o' ye spendin' a yer week-days makin' money as hard

• as ye can, an' playin' the saint on Sabbath days. But yon's

Jamcf^ Hf'phfirv.

2«.S

led round the

the flower o' ye a'. Ye lying hypocrite, trying to drive oot
the minister for fear he wad learn frae nie some o' yer evil
doin's. How mony times hae I brodit up packages o' smug-
gled goods for ye frae the shore in the dead o' the nieht, an'
the yard a' laid wi' straw, so as the wheels an' hoofs wad
mak' nae sound ; an' a' the goods handed in in the dark, for
fear a light should betray ye ; an' yo there in yer saft slip
pers, to mak' nae noise. Ye might weel undersell resp^^ct-
able dealers that paid honest duty on their tea and brandy,
an' a' the rest o't, an' pit a heavier profit in yer pocket for-
bye. An' hoo mony pounds hae ye paid me at a time, a' in
gold and silver, lest the very notes wad betray ye. Ye'vo
digged a pit an' fa'en in't yersel this time, man. I'd ne'er
hae betrayed ye if ye'd let the minister alane. Noo, gentle-
men, I've had my say, sae I'll relieve ye o' my presence. It
maun be maist painfu' for sic a lot o' respectable gentlemen
to find themselves in the company o' a murderer."

For all his answer Mr. Laing sprang up, and seizing Black-
wood's hand wrung it heartily. He could not trust himself
to speak.

"Where are you going, Blackwood?" asked Mr. Hep-
burn.

" Goin', sir 1 Why, to the police station, to gie mysel' up."
" My God ! " exclaimed the minister in agony, "must it
come to that ? "

. " Yes, sir. There's nae twa ways aboot that. Dinna ye
fash yersel', sir. I baud it but a licht thing to do for ye."
"You shall not go alone, at anyrate. Go and wait a
short time in the vestry, till the business here is settled, and
then I will go with you myself. I may be able to make
things better for you,"

" Thank you, sir. It's ower gude o' ye. I'll be greatly
helped by havin' ye wi' me."

*'l

284

James Hepburn.

\nm

Blackwood and his dog retired to the vestry, and there
was immediately a great rising up and crowding round the
minister, to shake his hand. In the midst of this confusion
Mr. Cruickshanks got up, with the intention of apparently
leaving the room. But Mr. Hepburn's eye was on him.

" One moment, Mr. Cruickshanks," he said, gently.
'* Before you leave, I have something to say which it is im-
portant you should hear. Gentlemen, please resume youi
seats "

They all obeyed. But it was not without a great effort
that the minister could control himself sufficiently to speak
with even moderate steadiness.

*' You will pardon me, gentlemen," he said, " if my words
are abrupt and ill-choisen. You will understand what a
s lock I have received, and how strangely mingled my feel-
in s are. I know there are some among you who have never
dojb'ed me. Them I thank most heartily for their loyal
coiitidence. To others, who have had doubts, I can only
say, that looking at all the circumstances I cannot blame
them. But all of you will now fully understand how cruelly
I have suffered since our last meeting in this room. I pray
God none of you may ever experience the mental agony I
have gone through. And now I am going to ask a very
great favour of you. From those who have doubted, I ask
it as a reparation for suspicions which they know now to
have been unjust. From those who never doubted, I ask it
as some amend for all I have suffered, without, as far as I
know, the least fault on my own part."

He paused, and Mr. Watson instantly spoke.

" I am sure, Mr. Hepburn, I may constitute myself spokes-
man for the whole party, and say that you have only jjo
name your wish."

The minister stood silent for a moment, with his eyes cast

Jan\es Hepburn.

285

down. Then he suddenly lixed them full on Mr. Cruick-
shanks. But there was none of its scathing quality in his
glance. It was mild and sad.

" Mr. Cruirkshanks," he said, " it is not for man to judge
you God is my witness, I bear you no ill-will. I would
willingly have averted from you if I could, what I feared
was coming, the moment Robert Blackwood entered ; for I
knew he had determined, after your first attack upon me,
to be revenged upon you if you endeavoured further to in
jure me. Fortunately lUack wood's accusations against you
are no necessary part of the poor fellow's only too terribly
complete vindication of myself. The favour I would claim
from the other gentlemen present is their most solemn pro-
mise, on their fnith as Christian men, and on their honour
as gentlemen, that not one syllable of what has transpired
this night, in this respect shall ever pass their lips ; on con-
dition that you, assigning any such reason as you prefer, at
once retire from the eldership, and that the shop in Porter's
Wynd be closed as soon as possible. Do you accept these
conditions ? "

Mr. Cruickshanks rose from his seat, and clutching the
table hard, replied in a voice he vainly strove to steady —

" I altogether protest against a most monstrous proceed-
ing. I appeal to the gentlemen present. My character has
never been impeached. Is the word of a confessed murderer
to be held as sufficient evidence to raise even a suspicion
against me? I should have thought, Mr. Hepburn, after
your own experience, you would not have been so ready to
accept unverified statements."

A low mutter passed round the table.

" One moment," said Mr. Hepburn, and hastily writing
on a slip of paper " Can you not see very little will make
them refuse to promise ? " he passed it to Mr. Cruickshanks.
Then, after a moment's pause, he spoke.

286

Janies Hepk^m.

t^' i

'* If you refuse, Mr. Cruickshanks, considering that it will
probably be impossible for us after to-night, to secure Robert
Blackwood's attendance, my only course will, I think, be at
once to form a meeting of th*? kirk-session, every member of
which 1 see present here, and interrogate him further respect-
ing his statementF."

This suggestion elicited a very unmistakable murmur of
approval. Still Mr. Cruickshanks sat silent, rage and morti-
Hcation struggling hard with a very distinct perception of
the inevitable.

"We wait your decision, Mr. Cruickshanks," said Mr.
Hepburn. " And I must remind you that the matter is
urgent. For me, at least, much painful business is still wait-
ing. Do you accept the conditions ? "

" Yes." The tone was surly and sullen.

" Then, ge tlemen, your promise."

' Be hanged but Id have stood out had I known what
) were driving at," said Mr. Laing bitterly.

" Hush, Laing," Mr. Hepburn said sternly. " Don't
regret being held baok from evil doing."

The promise was solemnly given all round.

" Now, Mr. Cruickshanks," said the minister, " your
future is in your own hands. May God give you grace to
judge yourself justly, and to guide your life henceforth
according to that judgment. I daresay you will now prefer
to retire."

Without a word Mr. Cruickshanks took up his hat and
left the room.

Then Mr. Watson started up. " Mr. Hepburn," he
said, "before all the gentlemen present I wish to confess that
I have felt some doubts on this painful subject, and mo^t
sincerely to crave your forgiveness for having wronged you in
thought."

»■!>

James Hepburn.

•287

his hat and

Two or three more started up, but Mr. Hepburn raised
both hands deprecatiitgly.

"For God 8 sake, gentlemen," he said, in an agitated tone,
no more, I beseech you. I cannot forgive, wliere I can-
not allow forgiveness is required. May the blessing of Clod
rest upon you all. And now I would ask you to leave uie.
I have to think of the poor fellow who has sacrificed
himself irretrievably for me."

" Go and wait for me at the Tweedies, Laing," he said, as
the rest streamed out. " I want to have a little talk with
Blackwood. But you had better go with us to the police
station. We will call for you in passing."

In the vestry Mr. Hepburn found Blackwood quietly
waiting, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, and
twirling a light cane in his tingers. The minister advanced,
and laid both hands on his head.

" My boy, my boy," he said ; " was there no way but
this?"

" No sir, nane. An' dinna ye tak on. I'll die like a
man if they hang me, an' bless you wi' my last breath."

"It will not come to that. Bui, oh ! Blackwood, how
came you to this ? "

" It wasna dune wi' deliberate intent. But sit ye dune,
sir. I wad fain tell ye a' aboot it quietly, by oorsels."

Mr. Hepburn took a chair, and Blackwood began —

" I met her in the toun, sir, the vera day it happened,
early in the mornin' gettin' some things for her auul ; an' I
spoke to her again aboot oor gettin' married. She was just
in ane o' her flighty moods, an wad do naethin' but laugh
an' taunt me. She didna ken if she wad ever get married
ava : an' she was ower young ; an' she didna like dour faces.
An' then, at last, she said she was gaein oot that afternoon,
an' maybe she'd meet a laddie she fancied mair than me ; but

288

James Hepburn

if noethin' cam o't maybe she'd think aboot me. An wi
that she joukit roun' the corner, an' was afl*. I didna set
muckle faith upon that aboot her meetin' onyl>ood7, for I
didna think the man I ken't she wad mean was aboot just
at that moment. But she'd angered me sair, an' I thocht
I'd best get mysel' awa, sae I took the cairt an' went ower
to the farm, just as ye ken. An' I did start for tlie
shepherd's house, sure eneuch ; but I hadna gane vera far
before I caught sicht o' a man walkm' across the hills in the
direction o' the Strathellon woods that lookit gey like the
roan I had a fear on. I had a grand wee glass in my pocket,
an' 1 had a gude look. I was sure it was him, then, by the
height and build, for I couldna see his face at that distance.
Then the thocht struck me he was awa' tae the river side,
an' that likely it wad be true Mary was for meetin' him
there. It drove me fair mad, an' I set oot after him. I lost
sicht o' him, an' [ peered about the woods a lang while, an'
at last I caught a glint o' hiui through the brush v/ood. I
meant to do for him if I got the chance, an' I fired, but the
pistol missed fire, an' he heard it, and made a dash through
the bushes. Then I set aff at speed, and eh, but I gied some
one a fricht, I doubt. I dinna ken wha it might be, for I
kept my face weel turned awa' for fear he wad ken me ; but
I knocked some one ower into the bushes as I ran doun the
path. I was makin' for the road, to gang back to the farm
as quick as might be, an' then I cam' all of a sudden on
Mary. I'd nae doubt then what was in the wind, an' a sort
o' whirlin' an' rushin' cam' on in my heid. I ken I just
caught her up, like a bairn, an' flung her far into the river,
an' I ken nae mair distinctly, what happened. I got back
to the farm some way, an' came hame the next day. I'v^
been expectin' ever since, that wii jcver it was I tumnielled
ower in the wood wad be to the fore to tell aboot it. But I

James Hepburn.

289

doubt it maun hae been a poacher, an' Kae lie's nae mind to
iiay H nvord."

'* And this is the man you wanted to kill before 1 "

" Ay, sir, ye're richt eneuch there ; an' if they dinna hang
me noo, I'll hae his life yet. I've puir Mary's death tae re-
venge on him, the noo."

The minister wisely held his peace, and refrained from
delivering a faithful message. Blackwood's ignorance as to
who it was he had unintentionally asuaulted removed the
only dread he had in his mind as to the possible result of his
confession ; and nothing he felt, could be better than that
the poor fellow should be allowed to tell his own tale. Noth-
ing could more thoroughly show how wholly unpremeditated
the murder of the girl had been. One thing only was clear.
For Lady EUinor Farquharson's sake, as well as Blackwood's
own, all mention of the pistol shot must be suppressed.

" Everything that can be done shall be done for you,
Blackwood," he said. " But one thing is clear — you must
say noching about the attempt to shoot."

" How not, sir ? "

" It will make the case stronger against you — that you
should have had deliberate murder in your mind. Admit
that you supposed Mary intended to meet a rival, and came
back to watch what went on ; that you met her unexpect-
edly, and your action was the result of a burst of ungovern-
able anger."

" Weel, sir, I'll do just as ye think l)est. I hae cleared
ye alth6gither, and I dinna care for aught else. But eh,
minister, there's something gey queer aboot it ail. The first
time I tried I a' but murdered ye ; and the second time I've
gane near to ruin yer gude name. '

" Let there never be a third time, my lad Maybe my life
will pay for it then, and I think that would cobt you a sore
heart."

2!M)

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" Kh, limn, dinnu Kpfuk o' sic a tiling I think I wnd
blow my aiit braiiiH oot if sic u tiling liappennd. But ye'll
no b<» troubled wi' me or my (loin's this mony a day the noo,
even if they don't han;^ me," he added, with a melancholy
Hmile, " MaySe ye'll be far awa' frao Mossgiel ere 1 see it
again. We'll gang the noo, if ye dinna mind, sir. The
sooner its ower the better pleased I'll be."

'* But Where's the dog ? " said Mr. Hepburn, as they passed
out of the building.

'* Awa' hame. I tauld him to gang, Puir beast, he'd no
hae gaen had he kent he'd likely lu^'er see his master again.
Dogs are better aff, some ways, than men. They haven't
any religious duty to think o' that forces them to turn their
back on their friends when they get into trouble. I'm thinkin'
sir, ye've somethin' o' the dog aboot ye. Ye're gey slow to
turn yer back on one. Ye'll gang the morrow an' see my
sister Maggie, will ye no, sir ? She kens naught yet. Nane
o' them ken but my brither Adam ; an' he's to tell them the
nicht. Puir Maggie '11 be fair daft. She an' I were aye gude
fi-ieus."

Mr. Hepburn gave the promise, and in mournful silence
they walked together towards the police station. Mr. Laing
and Dr. Tweedie were both in waiting for them at the door
of Dr. Tweedie's house ; and with heavy hearts the little
group passed on towards their destination.

Firmly, quietly, and composedly, Robert Blackwood told
his tale to the puzzled sergeant, who naturally could find, in
all his experience, no precedent for a man coming to give
himself up on a charge of murder, escorted, with evident re-
gard and consideration, by a minister and two other highly
respected inhabitants of the town. He seemed tb hesitate
about entering the charge, and looked doubtingly towards
Dr. Tweedie, as though the idea had occurred to him that his

JavitH tiei>f^»irn.

2IM

pre8eiic«» on th« oi-caHioii inUicntt'd, |K)SHibly, souk* KUHpioion
on his purt of liHlluciiintioii.

'* I fear you iiiUHt accept it,' Dr. Tweinlie Hiiid, answering
the look. " i daresay you have heard the Hcandal which
some mischievous tongues have set K^^iii^'. When 1 tell you
that Robert Blackwood gives himself up solely to clear Mr.
Hepburn, I am sure we need not ask you to do everything
you can, consistently with your duty, to make his position
as little painful as possible.''

The sergeant made no reply, but proceeded to write out
the charge, not however, without more than once passing his
hand across his eyes, " You must come away with me now,
Rob, my lad," he said, when he had finished : " but it's the
cruellest piece of work that ever fell to ray lot."

Then, had Mossgiel but known it, the appaling spectacle
was presented of three of its leading inhabitants taking a
cordial affectionate farewell of a murderer. None of the
three as they turned away noted what the sergeant did — the
wistful tenderness of the glance which Blackwood fixed upon
the minister, until the door closed after the retreating group.

Slowly and sadly they retraced their steps to Dr. Tweedie's
house, where Mrs. Tweedie only congratulated Mr. Hepburn
by a silent pressure of the hand. It was too dearly bought
a clearance, for words of rejoicing. Who coula tell whether
it might not yet prove that the man on whom rested the
guilt of murder had sacrificed his own life to clear the repu-
tation of ai.other man 1

Then Mr. Hepburn told them so much of Blackwood's
history as he chose. "Is it possible a death sentence
can result ? " he asked, the words seeming almost to choke
him.

" I don't think it under all the circumstances," said Mr.
Laing. " The very way in which he has given himself up.

hi/

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292

James Hepburn.

when he had ii : the slightest reason to fear suspicion falling
upon him, must tell in his favour. Then there is the family
history. Epilepsy on one side, habitual drunkenness on the
other. Tweedie, you must work that up to the utmost of
your ability. We must leave no stone unturned to place in
counsel's hands every possible line of defence."

" If you want the family history," put in Mrs. Tweedie,
" you must go to the union. There's an old Mrs. Lennox
there, who is some relation of theirs. She began talking to
me about them one day, a long while since, when I went to
see an old woman. I am certain either a grandfather or
grandmother, but on which side I forget, committed suicide.
I did not pay much attention at the time.''

Mr. Hopburn very soon withdrew, " He is terribly
shaken," Mrs. Tweedie said, as soon as Dr. Tweedie re-
entered the drawing room.

" My dear madam," exclaimed Mr. Laing, " who wouldn't
be shaken ? But for very shame I could have sobbed like a
child, to hear that poor fellow denouncing himself, to clear
the character of the man he loves. I should think never in
this world did man go through more violent revulsions of
feeling than Hepburn did in the course of our meeting to-
night."

" And now, perhaps, your prophecy about him will begin
to be fultilled."

" I don t know about that just yet. Blackwood expressed
his opinions M'ith more candour thun politeness. Eh, Twee-
die 1 You could smile complacently, but some of our friends
will have, I suspect, too sore recollections in connection with
the minister's vindication to let them be quite just towards
him for a time. You may depend upon it it is an uncom-
monly hard thing to be perfectly just towards anyone irre-
vocably associated in your mind with a most mortifying hu-

James Hepburn.

293

miliation. I suspect some people will have found their
husbands uncommonly sulky by this time."

" Only love can save." These words seemed to be ringing
in James Hepburn's ears again, as he walked homewards.
It was a strange and new reading of the axiom which had
burst with startling force upon him that night. From what
had not the love he had himself aroused saved him f There
had been dark hours, terrible wrestlings for him, during that
past week, when it had seemed to him as though his own
efibrts to act up to the high teaching of these simple words
had resulted chiefly in casting a stain upon himself which he
could never hope entirely to wipe out ; and which must be
ever a shadow upon his own power for good ; a discredit to
the church. And now all that dark cloud of evil was swept
away in a moment, and the motive force which had brought
that result about sprang from an action on his own part
vrhich he certainly held to be merely the outcome of a natural
entiment of common huma,nity !

It seemed to him altogether bewildering — not unnaturally.
A man may contrive, by a mentai effort, to get outside him-
self, and contemplate his own actions as those of some
imaginary person, but he takes with him his own imagina-
tive faculties, he can never get inside other people, and use
their faculties. Principles are plants bearing fruit, the
flavour of which greatly depends on the soil in which they
are grown. When the true well spring of all Christian life
and action has overflowed every part of a man's nature, his
commonest actions have a flavour not always perceptible in
the actions of the loudest professors of religious fervour.
Lacking the power to bring the contemplative faculties of
other people to bear on his own doings, James Hepburn
often found himself s abject to bewildering discoveries of re-
sults he had a difficulty in tracing to their true causes.
(19)

294

James Hepburn.

\-A I

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CHAPTER XXIII.

A TANGLED SKEIN.

MR. LAINCt'S philosophy, if somewhat cynical, was at
least founded on long experience of such phases of
human nature as made themselves n^ost frequently apparent
in Mossgiel. Results are apt at times to throw a somewhat
exasperating illumination backwards. In the light of the
startling occurrences of that evening, which had so suddenly
dried up the broad stream of scandal that had seemed to
threaten seriouslv the well-being of the Free Church in
Mossgiel, that small rivulet of chatter and gossip from
which it had taken its rise seemed a very evil thing — a thing
to be so much ashamed of, that the question naturally pre-
sented itself, why had not its flow been promptly checked
before it had a chance of assuming such mischievous pro-
portion — Ah, why ? Why did not Ahab keep Jezebel in
better order 1 Why did not Samson promptly repress Deli-
lah's thirst for information ? The unexpressed conscious-
ness of these facts, to which Robert Blackwood had given
such unpleasant prominence, would have been mortifying
enough. To remember the extreme distinctness with which
they had been stated in the presence of the very man who
had suffered from them most cruelly, was something more
than mortifying.

In the first moments of a really generous reaction of feel-
ing this had been forgotten ; but meditation at leisure could
not fail to give rise to reflections of a decidedly stinging
character, and human nature being what it is, it could
hardly be expected that a man inticiately, if innocently,

James Hepburn.

295

associated with those reflections Hhould bound into sudden
popularity.

The outspoken chatter whereby woni^en spread a scandal-
ous story is the noisy rivulet which swells into a torrent ;
the quiet innuendoes, or epigrammatic remarks, pointed by
an emphasis or intonation, by means of which aien accom-
plish the same result, are the noiseless ground springs which
swell the torrent unobserved. Hence it is always e.vsy to
lay the whole responsibility for the torrent on the rivulet,
and it is to be feared that much ungenerous use of this fact
was made at this time in Mossgiel ; and that upon many
wives it was impressed with a great assumption of righteous
marital displeasure, that they had not only done " a devil
of a lot of mischief," but exposed those liege lords to whom
their respect was due, to most unmerited humiliation and
annoyance.

Certainly there was something adrift. " Mr. Campbell,
of course, will not be at the meeting," Mrs. Campbell had
said to Mrs. Watson. " You must be sure and come and
tell me, the next day, what passes." And a little social
gathering in Mrs. Campbell's drawing-room had been a sort
of understood thing. But " a pressing engagement " pre-
vented Mrs. Watson from appearing, and very few of the
other guests presented themselves, save Mrs. Haigg and
Miss Muir, who, being exempt from all fear of the lash,
rallied gallantly.

"To my thinking," said Mrs. Haigg, " it is a most doubt-
ful story altogether. If Mr. Hepburn was so wholly free
from all blame, why should he have seemed so dow^ncast
from the first moment the girl was drowned 1 "

" But my dear Mrs. Haigg, you cannot suppose Robert
Blackwood accused himself falsely, just to save Mr. Hep-
burn?"

296

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Jamea Hephum.

" I don't suppose anything of the sort ; and I don't sup-
pose he confessed of his own free will either. My convic-
tion is that Mr. Hepburn knew something about it all the
time ; was, in truth, accessory after the fact, and that find-
ing suspicion was excited, he made Blackwood confess,
pointing out to him, probably, that by so doing he would be
more likely to get ofi* being hung than if Mr. Hepburn was
obliged to turn Queen's evidence to shield himself. That
Mr. Hepburn should have got himself suspected in this way
is just the natural result of failing to do the right from the
very first. No human being has a right to condone a mur-
der. For my part, I can only say I hope Mr. Hepburn will
take well to heart the lesson he has had."

" I think you are quite right," put in Miss Muir. " That
is just the view I take myself, and it is just what I sug-
gested this morning to Mr. Cruickshanks, when I was talk-
ing over the matter with him. He did not say much, but
he shook his head and gave a sort of shrug of his shoulders.
He is such a good-natured man, I have no doubt he did not
like to say as much, but I feel quite sure he agreed with
me. Of course we must all feel very glad Mr. Hepburn is
so far cleared ; but I must confess, I, for one, cannot but
believe, still, that he was gravely to blame."

This was far too consolatory a view of the subject not to
spread rapidly, and Mr. Cruickshanks was almost disposed
to hold that inspiration had descended upon Miss Muir.
The blow which had fallen on himself had been too crushing
to let him, at the first moment, gather himself together
again. But he was not so much shattered, as not at once
to perceive the value of the weapon thus thrust into his
hands. He very soon felt himself able to improve upon
Miss Muir's position ; and the assertion may be hazarded,
in the case of a man habitually leading a double life, that

James Hepburn.

297

he probably soon succeeded in persuading himself that he
reallj believed it was extremely likely that the minister,
with some suspicion of the part he had played, had incited
Blackwood's attack upon him, out of revenge ; and had sub-
sequently acted out of cautious desire not to press that re-
venge too far. His spirits rose more rapidly than he could
have believed possible when he left the meeting, crushed by
a defeat as entire as it was unexpected.

He was therefore able to send in his resignation of the
eldership with much equanimity of sentiment. He did not
need, under the circumstances, to assign any reason public-
ly, and privately he was able to make good use, on the sure
basis of his certainty that the promise made to the minister
would be kept faithfully, of that peculiar deprecating ges-
ture, partly shrug, partly an expressive motion of the hands,
which was one of the most useful weapons in his armoury.
No inconsiderable number of people left his shop, after ex-
pressing their regret at his retirement from official connec-
tion with the Free Church, convinced, though he had never
said so, that he was far from satisfied with the results of the
late meeting ; and that he felt the only course open to him
was to retire, and, under existing circumstances, to leave
the affairs of the church in the hands of those who felt dif-
ferently from himself. " Existing circumstances " was a
term he used extensively. It implied so much, and defined
80 little, that it suited the sentiments of e^ ery one equally
well. It was as a large mass of admirable moulding clay,
easily workable into any shape it was desirous it should

assume.

This was the immediate result of the prompt action taken

by the minister, in respect of Blackwood's sudden attack

upom Mr. Cruickshanks. Verily the children of this world

are wiser than the children of light in their generation. The

298

JaTnes Hepburn,

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limitation is important ; but then the majority are also
limited in spiritual vision — hence the wisdom* is more appar-
ent to them than the force of the limitation. Otherwise the
saying would not have caused so much perplexity to many
honest people as it has done.

Miss Muir did no:, neglect to strengthen her position by
observing that Mr. Hepburn did not seem greatly cheered
up by the wonderfully complete cjearance of his character, of
which they heard so much from his admirers ; that, in fact,
he looked more depressed and downcast than before.

" You may depend," she said, at a small gathering in her
own house, '* he is far from being at ease, and will be so
until Blackwood's trial is over. I'm told his family are going
to engage first-rate counsel, and that they are sure they
can make an alibi so almost cerf'ain that they are going to
dispute the trustworthiness of his confession, and make out
that the shock of the girl's death has turned his brain, and
that he has accused himself falsely in consequence — a thing
which, you know, has happened not unfrequently. And I
understand they can prove a good deal of insanity in the
family, besides his mother's case. So, after all, this wonder-
ful clearance we have heard so much of may turn out to be
less complete than it appears. A.t anyrate, if a strong de-
fence is set up, and many witnesses are examined, it is very
likely something may be dragged out of some of them which
it would be convenient to keep back."

" When does the trial come on ? " asked Mrs. Watson,
who still eagerly sought information, although since the
meeting her frame of mind had been much subdued, and she
seemed no longer inclined to take any leading part in the
discussions.

" Soon, I believe. I don't understand these arrangements ;

-*?^

James Hepburn.

299

prangements ;

but I think it will not be long. I am sure some one told
me 80."

The report of Blackwood's confession spread rapidly, and
one of the first results was to brin^ Sir Maurice Adair in
search of Mr. Hepburn.

" I heard the whole story at Danescourt last night," he
said. " Mr. Laing was over seeing Mr. Chaniberlayne about
some business, and dined there. I never slept a wink the
whole night."

" Good heavens 1" exclaimed the minister, in sudden panic.
" 1 hope you held your tongue."

** Of course I did. But I have done nothing since but
curse my own folly. I saw in a moment what a painful and
awkward position I had involuntarily placed you in. I hope
you will believe I bitterly regret it, Mr. Hepburn. You did
not spare me," he added, colouring a little ; '' but I hope
you will not doubt that I can thoroughly respect a minister
who boldly and fearlessly does his duty."

" I do not care to discuss the matter with you, Sir Maurice.
There is no harm done, as the case stands, seeing no other
name than mine got mixed up in the matter."

" But about this man Blackwood. I conclude it was he who
tried to shoot me ? "

" To you I may admit it was. But be careful not to hint
that fact to anyone. You can see that the fact of your
being in the woods might, if it became known, involve con-
sequences we could not control. Besides, you will well under-
stand my anxiety, under all the circumstances, to get the
poor fellow off as lightly as possible. The fact of his having
tried to shoot you would tell heavily against him."

" Of course it would. You may depend on my silence.
But what on earth could he want to shoot me for 1 I never
spoke to the fellow in my life. I never even saw him to

300

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James Hepburn.

know who he was. I suppose I saw him at the Strathellon
ball ; but he was gone before Chainberlayne told us about
his looks, and warned us of dancing with his sweetheart."

The minister looked at him thoroughly for a moment.

" You remember the girl ? " he said.

"Perfectly."

" Can you remember ever having paid her any such atten-
tion as might have roused his jealousy 1 "

" Certainly not. Perhaps you will hardly give me credit
for speaking truthfully, but it is true, nevertheless, that I
always carefully avoid paying any marked attention to a
pretty girl of that class. A deal of mischief comes of it, and
at best it is very apt to be detrimental to a girl's character.
Of course one is supposed to dance and flirt as much as pos-
sible at those sort of parties ; but I never single out any
one girl for marked attention. I remember her at more than
one servants' ball I have been at, but I certainly never paid
her any greater attention than I paid to half-a-dozen others.''

" Then I can only believe it a case of mistaken identity.
He admitted that when he first saw you he judged of ident-
ity only from size and build ; and when he fired, I believe
he merely recognized by your dress that it was the man he
had been following."

" Been following," repeated Sir Maurice. .

"Yes. Ah, but you do not know that part of the story.
Laing of course could not tell you that." And then he told
him the whole of Blackwood's account of himself.

Sir Maurice was much agitated.

" Good God ! " he exclaimed ; " then I am really the cause
of the poor girl's murder, as well as of all you have gone
through. For Heaven's sake, Mr. Hepburn, use every effoH
to get him off. Let money be no object. I will find any
amount that is wanted."

James Hepburn.

301

*' You cannot think I need any inducement to do the
utmost that can be done for him. But getting him off is out
of the question. Penal servitude it must be ; but I think,
and so does Laing, that will be the worst we need expect."

" Could we not plead that the shock of the girl's death
had preyed on his mind, and turned his brain, and that he
had falsely accused himself ? It seems so easy, short of your
evidence and mine, to almost prove he was far away."

" Yes, short of your evidence and mine. But you and I
know that he was there, and know that he did the deed.
There would be a sort of tacit perjury in our attempting to
get such a defence set up."

*' Is there nothing then I can do to undo the mischief I
have done 1 "

" Nothing, Sir Maurice. It is a chance rarely given to
us to undo the effects of our own evil actions."

He spoke almost sternly. It was hard perhaps for him
to be even just towards the man whose one selfish action
had wrought so much woe and suffering. Sir Maurice
coloured.

"You are cold and hard, Mr. Hepburn," he said bitterly.
" Do you not believe I am in earnest ? or does it need that
a man should commit a murder to soften your heart towards
his wrong doings ? "

" I had no intention of being cold and hard. Sir Maurice.
But remember, you and Robert Blackwood can hardly be
judged by the same rule ; and remember this," he added,
fixing a piercing look on the younger man, " Blackwood has
voluntarily risked death at the hangman's hands to clear my
character from all suspicion. Could I see you make plain
your determination to gain a far more important end by a
far less tremendous sacrifice, you should have no cause to
deem me cold and hard."

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302

James Hepburn.

" All pow^er to do that is taken out of my handb for the
prnsent at least," Sir Maurice replied, in a low voice.

" Yes, thank God, it is. But you know, and I know,
that you have made no such stern and firm resolve to crush
an unlawful passion out of your heart as will render you
safe from giving way to temptation should it arise ; and
that neither are you prepared, supposing you cannot do
that, to take care and avoid the temptation. When I re-
member all that may possible hang on your determination,
I cannot feel for you, weakly trifling, as I do for that poor
lad, who, for all his evil doings, and all his terrible heritage,
has not hesitated to sacrifice the whole of his future life, at
the very best, in order to atone to me for an unintentional
wrong."

•* We will not discuss the matter further, Mr. Hepburn.
You neither know what I feel, nor what I intend. For
Blackwood, at any rate, I will do the utmost I can. I will
see him myself, and make him promise to apply to me, when-
ever he is free. I will make it my business to see that he
is provided for in some way."

•' You must be careful what you say, then. For, remem-
ber, he does not in the least suspect who it was he ran
against in the wood."

" I will not forget. We part friends, do we not, Mr.
Hepburn ? From my very heart I respect your plain speak-
ing, if it is a little hard to bear. And from my very soul
I believe," he added, in a lower tone, " if there were more
ministers like you there would be fewer men like me."

He warmly grasped the minister's hand, and hastily left
the room. Through the window James Hepburn's eyes fol-
lowed him anxiously, as he mounted his horse and rode
away. There was something loveable about him, terribly
loveable, he felt inclined to say, and he sighed heavily over
the admission.

James Hepburn.

303

All arrangements for Blackwood's defence were in Mr.
Laing's hands, and they gave rise for many earnest dis-
cussions.

" Talk of a psychological puzzle," he said one day after
returning from an interview with the prisoner. " I never
came across anything in the least approaching his state of
mind. Here is the fellow at this moment worrying himself
lest you, Hepburn, should be fretting over the buHiness ;
and begging me to tell you that whatever may happen he
shall still rejoice more over that one action of his life than
over any other, and yet seeming absolutely dead and har-
dened as to anything like feeling about the murder of that
rpoor girl. He says it was done in a moment of passion,
without any deliberate intention, and that he is very sorry
he did it. But he speaks of it much as I should speak of
having accidently killed some animal I might just as well
have spared. If the practice of personally interrogating
prisoners only prevailed in this country, I believe we should
easily get him off on the plea of insanity."

" It would be a clear gain if we could, "jDr. Tweedie said,
" for then he would be confined for life. Whereas now, in
time, he will be out again, free to do any other mischief
which pleases him."

" It cannot be helped," replied Mr. Laing. " It would, I
am sure, be useless for counsel to set up the plea of insaniby.
It is morally he is adrift, not intellectually. Nothing but
personal interrogation could bring that out. By-the-way,
Hepburn, Sir Maurice Adair seems to be wonderfully inter-
ested in the case. I met him at the Charaberlaynes'. He
called on me the other day, after seeing you, and said it was
the most plucky thing he ever knew a man do ; and offered
to find any amount of money for the defence. He says he
will not lose sight of him."

304

James Hepburn.

i.s'

" So he SAid to me/' replied the minister, a little wearily.
He listened to these discussions with a sense of pain and
vague bewilderment. How could he hesitate to stand by
the man who had ninde such a splendid sacrifice on his be-
half? and yet his evidence, thrown into the scale, would
very probably prevent all chance of a man afflicted with the
most dangerous of maladies, a diseased morality, being
sooner or later turned out upon the world again. Day and
night the problem haunted him with a tormenting con-
sciousness that he could produce no clear and valid reason
for following a course he felt he must follow, or be a mean
spirited scoundrel in his own eyes. Yet ever and again
across his perplexed musings would flash the words, " Only
love can save," as though they claimed to hold some solution
of the enigma, could he but lay hold upon it.

Mossgiel in general was able to arrive at far more clear
and definite opinions on the courbO it behooved him to fol-
low. In the eyes of one section of society he had already
set his feet upon the slope of iniquity, and was having his
errors impressed upon him by a merciful Providence, which
at the same time judiciously emphasized the dangers of that
slope by making the way back to the right path exceedingly
painful and difficult. It can never be right to do wrong,
was, in fact, if not in form, the very safe dictum of this
phase of opinion ; and even if Mr. Hepburn was wholly
ignorant on the subject of the murder, still, by associating
with and encouraging Robert Blackwood, he had brought
himself into this most unseemly position for a minister, that
he was almost compelled to show a special interest in a
murderer. The various links in this chain of argument
were not very exactly specified. Another section, rather as
a rule the outsiders, as far as zealous church membership
was concerned, stoutly maintained that Blackwood had

James Hepburn.

805

done a very plucky thing, and that any conduct on Mr.
Hepburn's part, other than that which he had adopted,
would be a disgrace to him, both as a man and a minis-
ter. These two phases of opinion, with some modification,
represented pretty fairly the whole sentiment of the town,
as might easily<-be divined from reflection on the fact that
people must either be zealous religious professors or not.
In the former case they are nearly certain to have very
clear and trenchant opinions on other people's wrong do-
ings ; in the latter, their sympathies are equally sure to be
strongly drawn in the direction of pluck, by whomsoever
that darling virtue of all true Britons may be manifested.

It 'S---

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James Hepburn.

CHAPTER XXIV.

A SUMMER CRUISE.

GENERAL FARQUH ARSON'S yac!^ was off ^he
Norwegian coast, and the boat sent ashore in search
of letters having just returned, there prevailed an absorbed
tranquility among the party on board. Lady EUinor, alone
in her cabin, with flushed cheeks, and eyes which would till
again and again with tears, was reading* an account from
Mrs. Tweedie of the exciting occurrences in Mossgiel, re-
sulting from the death of poor Mary Warrender.

" Of course, it is all right now as far as Mr. Hepburn
goes," Mrs. Tweedie wrote ; " but it is a dear-bought clear
ance, which would never have been needed but for the
unfortunate fact that on that day, of all days in the year,
Mr. Hepburn could produce no evidence as to where he was
just at the hour the girl was drowned. He has evidently
felt the thing most deeply ; he looks much and aged worn."

Little did Mrs. Tweedie dream of the stab those innocently-
intended sentences would inflict on the reader. Why had
Mr. Hepburn been compelled to preserve a silence so dam-
aging to himself, and which had laid upon him the cruel
pain of the knowledge that another man had been forced
voluntarily to risk a shameinl death in order to clear his
character? That question was very easily answered for
Lady EUinor Farquharson ; and crushing the letter in her
hand, she leaned her head down on the arm of the sofa pii»
which she was seated, and was sobbing bitterly when Gen-
eral Farquharson entered with an open letter in his hand,
so quietly that she did not observe him.

James Hepburn.

307

He stood for a few inonients watching her with a grieved
anxious expression of face, Then, still standing at a little
distance, with all his usual decorous affection of tone and
manner —

" My dearest Ellinor, I fear you have heard some bad
news. Pray tell me what is wrong, my love ! "

O misguided man ! O golden opportunity let slip ! Her
heart was full of bitter self-upbraiding. Had he only gontly
drawn her into his arms, and soothed her with the silent
sympathy of mute caresses in her then mood, a burst of full
confession would probably have resulted, and his future
peace, her future safety and happiness, been assured. The
humiliation of a full confession of her folly would have
seemed some sort of faint atonement for the evil she had
wrought, and the suffering laid upon the noble silent victim,
who she knew would rather have faced lasting disgrace and
loss of character than clear himself at the cost of one word
which might implicate her. As it was, the well-known tone
and manner repelled her in a moment, and starting up she
hastily dried her eyes.

" Oh, nothing is much amiss," she said. " I did not hear
you coming in, Stuart. I have had a letter from Mrs. Twee-
die; it grieved me so much for Mr. Hepburn's sake."

** Ah ! you have heard then. I was just coming to tell
you. Here is a letter from Adair 1 you had better read it.
Poor Hepburn seems to have fallen upon an abominably
scandal-loving set of people ; but I suppose that is always
the case in these small country towns. Adair is wonder-
fully interested in this poor fellow Blackwood. He seems to
be working tremendously hard to try andgethim off as lightly
as possible. I should hardly have, expected so much energy
from Adair."

He paused. A little, irrepressible sob had broken from

808

James Hepburn.

I. .,

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Lady EUinor. He sat down beside her, and took her
hand.

" Ellinor, my dear, I do not like to see you so easily excited.
Indeed, my love, you make me feel quite anxious at times ;
your spirits seem very variable. I quite share your sympa-
thy with Mr. Hepburn, whom I consider one of the finest,
most manly fellows I have ever seen. But surely there is
nothing in all this world should excite you so much ? It
really makes me dread that you are seriously out of health,
and will not allow it."

" My dear Stuart," she replied, struggling to repress the
irritation his unimpeachable correct demeanour aroused, " i
do wish you would give up puzzling your dear honest head
over the whims and vagaries of a silly woman. What can
you expect ? You surround me with luxuries and leave no
wish ungratified. That is an enervating sort of life to lead.
If you would be cruel to me, or ruin yourself with gambling,
so that we had to face reduced circumstances, I daresay I
should make a better wife, and be less whimsical and excit-
able."

" I do not want a better wife. You are everything I
could wish, my love, if only I could feel sure you are in good
health, and have everything about you which can add to
your happiness. There is Adair's letter — you can see what
he says. I am glad to see the way in which he is acting.
I think it greatly to his credit. Come up on deck, my dear-
est, as soon as you have finished your letters. It is a lovely
morning. The fresh air will do you good."

With these words General Farquharson left the cabin.
Lady Ellinor had to get over another fit of violent sobbing
before she could swallow the dose of poison her upright and
infatuated husband had left for her ; Every word of Sir
Maurice Adair's letter was meant for her ; every sentence

If'

Janies Hepburn.

309

d took her

had a double meaning — telling (ieneral Farqulmrson of his
admiration for Robert lihickwood's plucky dftermination to
face all consequences rather than let the niinistei't) character
suffer in the least degree ; telling Lady Ellinor of his remorse
for having been partly instrumental in placing Mr. Jlepburn
in such a false position, and of his unwearied etiorts to lighten
Blackwood's punishment, and detertniination to stand his
friend in the future, as the best atonement he could make
to the minister for the evil thus unintentionally wrought.

The letter was to Sir Maurice's credit, and that was just
the very nature of its poison to Lady Eilinor. Mr. Hep-
burn's honest, earnest words had not been without their in-
fluence, though she would not allow the danger to herself ;
and she had welcomed her husband's suggestion of a some-
what extended yachting tour with an alacrity which induced
in him a conviction that, on this occasion at least he had
hit upon just the right thing. A party altogether to
her liking had been got together, including her own fav-
ourite sister and one of her brothers ; and Lady Ellinor had
herself looked forward hopefully to a summer of much enjoy-
ment. The weather was perfect, the party most satisfactory
and yet, although only a few weeks had passed, she was
sensible of vague disappointment, and a sort of unsatisfied
restlessness. But even yet she did not recognise its source,
did not admit to herself that her ardent passionate nature,
checked in its natural a,nd lawful development by the formal
precision of her husband's devotion, had found in the first
sip of the cup of an unlawful passion a satisfying sweetness
which it was hard to forego. She strove honestly, and in
great measure successfully, not to think about Sir Maurice ;
but she failed to grasp the full import of that sense of a void
— a something wanting to her full enjoyment — of which she
was always more or \em conscious. ;N either did she give
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much heed to the fact that her whole action was far more
swayed by the personal influence of James Hepburn than by
loyalty to her own husbt'inJ.

And now Sir Mauiice, personally, was forced upon her
attention, and forced upon it in a favourable light — favour-
able at least to her full understanding, or to what she deemed
to be her full understanding, of his action in striving to the
utmost to mitigate a sentence which, however, just in itself,
could not fail to be a source of cruel pain for the man to
clear whom it had been voluntarily incurred ; and who, but
for her own folly and Sir Maurice's ir "xtuation, would never
have stood in need of any such clearance. Lady EUinor
Farquharson pissed half-an hour of most insidious enjoy-
ment, thinking, and thinking with an undisturbed sense of
perfect recitude, of the man it was deadly for her to think
of at all.

Then she went up on deck, and drank deep another
draught of delicious poison. General Farquharson had been
telling the story there, and the case was under animated
discussion.

" Oh, here comes Nellie ! " exclaimed her sister, a beauti-
ful enthusiastic girl, several years yourger than herself.
" Do read us Sir Maurice's letter, Nell ? "

" Mrs. Tweedie's will be best," Lady EUinor said, handing
back 5Sir Maurice's letterto General Farquharson, as she seated
herself, and proceeded forthwith to read the account she had
received, with a few suppressions here and there, as t • pos-
sible causes of suspicion against the minister.

*' I never heard such a romantic story," exclaimed Lady
Agnes. " I always liked Sir Maurice Adair ; I shall like
him better still now for trying to help that poor fellow. It
was so noble of him to come forward that way and clear Mr.
Hepburn I hope they will get him off altogether."

James Hephurriu

811

" You approve, then, of young men being allowed to
murder their sweethearts with impunity," said Major Far-
quharson, a cousin of the General's. *' That will he a danger-
ous license, Lady Agnes, where young women who are in-
clined to be coquettes are in question."

" No, I don't mean that," said Lady Agnes, looking a
little puzzled. " What do I mean, Stuart 7 I don't think
it was murder exactly."

*• Well, it certainly lacks the element which we generally
include in what we mean by murder, in that it was the re-
sult of a sudden impulse, without a shadow of any premedi-
tation. But I think what you mean, Agnes, is that his
action in respect of Mr. Hepburn is so noble and generous,
that it blinds us to the extent of the previous crime."

" Yes, I think that is it. Because it isn't as if Mr. Hep-
bum was going to be tried, and he had confessed to prevent
him from being hung. He has risked being hung himself,
merely to save him from a vague suspicion. I think it is
very noble of him."

" There is no doubt about that," said Major Farquharson.

" The puzzle is, how comes a fellow capable of killing his
sweetheart in a fit of jealousy to be equal to such a piece of
heroic self- sacrifice ? "

" When you see and know Mr. Hepburn you will be better
able to understand that," replied Lady Ellinor. " I have
heard strange stories of him from some poor women whom
I visit in Mossgiel ; such pathetic stories, sometimes, of the
strange love soae of the lowest outcasts in the town have
for him. I am sure T do not wonder. He forces one to
love him."

" Halloa, Stuaii}," exclaimed his cousin, with a laugh.
"This is getting serious — a Free Church minister, for
sooth ! "

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James Hepburn.

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" I think I am much of EUinor's mind," replied Qeneral
Farquharson with a smile. " There is something about him
which irresistibly invites confidence."

" No doubt he is very charming," said Lady Agnes. *' But
I consider Sir Maurice Adair is the hero of the story. It is
pure kindness on his part to work so hard for the poor
fellow."

"Adair is an uncommonly fine fellow," said Major Far-
quharson. " We were in the same regiment when he was a
youngster. He was an immense favourite both with officers
and men. A fine, generous, manly fellow, with nothing low
or mean about him."

" I am quite sure of that. Do write to him, Nell, and
tell him how much we admire his action, and urge him to
leave no means untried to get the poor fellow off.''

Lady Ellinor had turned away while Major Farquharson
had been speaking, and was intent, apparently, upon watch-
ing a boat in the distance. She answered her sister without
turning her head.

*' I have no doubt Sir Maurice will need no exhorting."

" How prosaic you are, Nellie ! You ought to be in a red-
hot fever of admiration of Sir Maurice. I have a great mind
to set all propriety at defiance and write to him myself."

" I think you had better let me be the sender of your
message, Agnes," said General Farquharson. " I shall be
writing to Adair shortly. There is no need for Ellinor to
trouble herself with being your secretary. And now, if any
of you have letters you want to answer you had better set
to work. The boat must go back in two hours' time. We
are to be off again this afternoon."

This broke up the party. Only Lady Ellinor remained
where she was sitting.

'* If you have no letters to write, Ellinor, take a turn

James Hephxt^m.

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or remained

take a turn

with me," said her husband ; and as she rose he drew her
arm through his, and keeping her hand in his own, walked
slowly up and down the deck with her, discussing the de-
tails of their further cruise and consulting all her wishes
with an affectionate earnestness which forced her, at last,
unable to endure it longer, to plead some excuse for going
below. And when, an hour afterwards, they all met at
luncheon. General Farquharson sighed to observe that there
were traces of tears about his wife's face which had certainly
not been perceptible when they were pacing the deck to-
gether.

The yacht was turned southwards that afternoon, with
the programme of the whole cruise fully sketched out. The
summer, and as much of the autumn as was found suitable
for yachting, were to be spent in the Mediterranean ; one
and another of the party being dropped at different places,
according as their arrangements or necessities demanded ;
until, finally. General and Lady Ellinor Farquharson and
her sister were to be left at Cannes, to join a large circle of
friends who were to spend the winter there.

Lady Ellinor acquiesced in all these arrangements with a
sort of listless indifference at heart, which she did her best
to conceal under an assumption of lively interest. It
seemed to her that she cared very little where she was, or
where she went. Life had suddenly grown very dull and
monotonous. She could hardly believe that she was the same
woman who had felt joyous and light-hearted enough three
years ago, and able to find pleasure in a hundred trifles
which all now seemed void of all possible interest. Only
her husband was so kind, so anxious she should be happy,
that she loyally made the most persistent efforts to seem so.

The arrangements, however, after all, underwent some
modification. Randolph Forbe> was to have been left at

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Jaimea Hepburn.

Malta, to return to England by steamer. But letters await-
ing the party at Gibraltar somewhat abridged his idle time,
and without forcing him to return home instantly, left the
Malta arrangement very doubtful, as there was every
chance increased delay would be caused by the yacht just
missing a steamer.

" Let us run up as far as Naples," General Farquharson
suggested. "You can return to England by land from
there, and we shall still reach the Ionian Islands in plenty
of time for all we want."

" Delightful suggestion," exclaimed Lady Agnes Forbes.
" Then we can stay there for a few days before we go and
explore Crete. A few days ashore "will be a pleasant
variety."

Into the Bay of Naples accordingly the yacht shortly
steamed, and the whole party were soon comfortably estab-
lished, with the intention of spending a few days, at least,
on dry land. On one of these days it chanced that Lady
Eilinor, feeling disinclined for some afternoon excursion
which was in prospect, determined to stay at home. The
rest of the party had not left the room very many minutes,
and she was standing at the window, looking out with a
sad, wistful gaze over the sea, when the door opened. She
did not turn round, thinking it to be a servant. In another
moment a voice said —

" Lady Eilinor Farquharson."

With a sudden flush, and with every trace of sadness
swept away from her face, she turned hastily. Sir Maurice
Adair was standing near her.

"Tiis is a most unexpected meeting to me," he said,
*' General Farquharson gave me a sketch of your plans.
Naples seemed far off your intended route. I never was
more amazed in my life than when I met your party at the

Jamea Hepburn.

door a moment since. General Farquharson told me I
should find you here, and bade me come and pay my re-
spects. I hope I am not rash in obeying him."

He spoke a little hurriedly, and with a good deal of
nervous agitation in his manner. Lady Ellinor was out-
wardly more composed, but her varying colour was very
significant.

" I am very pleased to see you," she said. " I had no
idea you were out of Great Britain."

•* I have been roaming about for some time. I have felt
very restless and uneasy. 1 wished so much to write to
you, but feared to do so I suppose you have heard from
Mossgiel."

" Yes. From Mrs. Tweedie."

" Then you will well imagine how great has been my self-
reproach ; both on Mr. Hepburn's account, and far, far
more on your own. That man was evidently skulking
about the" woods. But for Mi-. Hepburn's interference, that
fact might have caused my infatuated senseless folly to re-
sult in scandal which would have been distressing to you.
I have so longed to ask you to forgive me."

" Please do not let us speak of the past, Sir Maurice," she
said. ** I cannot promise forgiveness where I feel the blame is
quite as much due to me as to you. In fact, I think I am
most to blame. Let us say no more about it. We were
both very foolish, very wrong. "We have both deep cause
for gratitude to the man on whom the punishment of our
folly has fallen. The remembrance of what we have brought
upon him should be enough to make us more cai'eful in
future. Let us resolve to accept the lesson, and say no
more about the matter."

" It shall be as you please. Lady Ellinor. If only I know
you have forgiven me."

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" Enough," she said, with a smile. His evident agitation
seemed to aid her in preserving composure", of manner at
least. " Tell me now the result of your efforts on behalf of
Blackwood."

*' Not now. Please do not ask me to stay now. I only
came that I might have a chance of these few words alone
with you. I feel so nervous, so agitated. I should fear
exciting remark if any one should chance to come in. A
case of a burnt child. After the risk to which I madly ex-
pensed you, I tremble at a shadow. General Farquharson
has asked me to dine with you this evening. I shall he
moie at ease then, and can tell you all I know."

"Good," she said, with a smile. " You shall have your
own way. We shall meet at dinner time."

With a hurried salutation. Sir Maurice Adair left the
room. If he had blinded himself before, he could do so no
longer. The sudden, unexpected encounter had torn down
the flimsy veil of al: pretence, and his extreme agitation
had by no means arisen wholly, if it had done so at all, from
the plausible cause he had assigned. He had been barely
master enough of himself to resist throwing himself at her
feet, and kissing the folds of her gown. If in future he did
not wholly avoid every chance of meeting her, save under
the safeguard of complete publicity, he sinned against light
and knowledge.

She also might well have learned as much, from the feeling
of light-hearted gaiety which came stealing over her.
Naples, the yacht, everything seemed so much more enjoy-
able than it had done half an-hour previously. Whether she
confessed as much to herself or not, she hastily rose from tbe
chair by the window, where she had dreamed away the
afternoon, when she heard sounds of the return of the party,
and went to her dressing-room, feeling a sudden shrinking

JavieH Hepbuni.

317

from meeting her husband's eye, with thiit tell-tale gladness
on her face.

8ir Maurice Adair was composed enough when he again
entered the room, and Lady Ellinor received him with easy
cordiality.

" My sister is dying to hear about all your efforts on
Blackwood's behalf," she said. " You must really relieve
her anxiety, or she will be able to eat no dinner."

" Well, really. Lady Agnes," said Sir Maurice, " I cannot
commend him to you as a worthy hero of romance. If I had
not had such indisputable proof of his disinterested devotion
to Mr. Hepburn, I could never have believed him capable of
it. A more silent, surly, impassible sort of- fellow I never
came across.

" But he will not be hung, will he ? "

" Oh. no. There is no doubt he will get off with penal
servitude. The trial was just coming on when I left the
country. I saw him just before I started, and told him
that, whatever happened, when he was a free man, to come
straight to me, and I would take care and provide him with
some settled employment. He thanked me, but upon my
word, I am not sure he would not rather I had let him alone.
I really doubt if he is quite sound mentally. His manner
was very odd at times. I saw him several times. I cannot
understand what can be the source of Mr. Hepburn's influ-
ence over him."

'* How very disappointing," said Lady Agnes. " I had
been picturing him a sort of modern Claud Duval."

" He would be a handsome fellow enough, if he had not
such a constant heavy scowl on his face. As it is, he is cer-
tainly far from being an interesting criminal."

" But you will not allow any prejudice against him to
influence you," said Lady Ellinor, with a little tremour in her
voice. "Think of what he has done, not of what he is."

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JanieH Hepburn.

8ir Maurice turned an eloquent look upon her, and there
was gome little trace of emotion in his voice hh he answered —

" After all he has done for Mr. Hepburn, can you doubt
my doing the very utmost, now or hereafter, that is in my
power to help him 7 "

Lady Agnes Forbes glanced quickly from Sir Maurice
Adair to her sister, and then back again. Later in the
evening, when they were drinking coffee, and she was stand-
ing a little apart with General Faniuharson, she said —

*' What is there in this Mr. Hepburn which fascinates
everyone ? Nellie was never given to taking violent likings
to clergyman, and he seems to have taken you and Sir
Maurice Adair captive as well. It is very wonderful. A
Free Church minister, too ! What is he like 1 "

" Mr. Hepburn ? He is a tall, almost gaunt man, with a
somewhat rugged face, and very tine eyes," replied General
Farquharson. " And should you ever chance to come across
him, my dear Agnes, when you are in any trouble or per-
plexity, I would not mind risking a good deal on the pre-
diction that you will find yourself, very shortly, telling him
everything, and seeking his guidance and counL>el."

" Oh, then I suppose he is Father Confessor to both Nellie
and Sir Maurice."

" I don't know," answered her brother-in-law, with a slight
sigh. ** But if he is, 1 can only say, I think it is an un-
commonly good thing for both."

That night Lady Ellinor Farquharson came, after the
party had broken up for the night, into her husband's dress-
ing room.

" Stuart," she said. " you will think me very capricious ;
but I should much like to go at once, gind not remain any
longer here. It seems very silly, bnt I don't know that I
can give you any reason."

James Uepbwni.

319

both Nellie

" You have given quite reason enough, my love, in saying
that you wish it. I will give orders the first thing in the
morning. I do not know that there is anything to prevent
our getting under way to-morrow afternoon."

" Thank you. You are very good to me, Stuart." And
then she came towards him, with u strange wistful look in
her eyes, and lifted her beautiful face for a kiss, which Oou-
eral Farquharson at once bestowed, saying as he did so —

" Reward me, then, my love, by letting me see a little
colour on those pale cheeks, You were looking much
brighter to-day at dinner, but the colour is all gone again."

With something almost like a shiver Lady Ellinor turned
and left the room. General Farquharson tliought he per-
fectly understood the case, and was far too chivalrous to
ask questions. It was so very probable that Sir Maurice
Adair had caused Lady Ellinor some uneasiness in that un-
defined manner which it is almost impossible to hint at in
words, without giving too much consistency to the impres-
sion. " I only hope," he thought to himself, " he is not
going to lose his head. I cannot have Ellinor subjected to
any annoyance of that sort."

The yacht steamed out of the bay the next evening towards
sunset. Sir Maurice Adair watched it through his glnss,
with a pale, set face, and the next morning he started for
Paris.

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James Hepburn.

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Chapter XXV.

DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW.

YE'LL no tak' it ill, sir, if I keep clear o' ye a'thegither
when I'am oot aji;ain 1"

Thus spoke Robert Blackwood to Mr. Hepburn during
the minister's farewell visit to him, before his. departure for
the place of his imprisonment. Mr. Hepburn smiled half
sadly.

" That is a long looking forward, Blackwood," he .said.
" Still I should like to know what put the idea into your
head?"

" It'll may be no sae lang as ye think, sir. I may get
out sooner. Sir Maurice Adair says he'll spare nae effort to
get me out on a ticket-of-leave, as soon as there's a possibility.
But what was in my mind was, if I kept aloof frae ye, ye
might think I was sulkin', an' regrettin' what I've dune.
Never ye think that, sir, whatever ye do. I kent weel
eneuch they might hang me, but if I'd been certain they
would, I'd no hae gien it a thocht against clearin' ye. I'd
fain hae been able to do something for ye, that wadna hae
vexit ye like. But I'm prood' a' the same, to show I wad
serve you if I could."

" But then why hold aloof ? "

Bl ;.r,kwood was silent for a moment or two. Then he
said, " Weel, sir, I've thocht a deal about ye, an* I think
it's a kind o' a superstitious feelin'. I'd aye a great notidn
o' ye, frae the first you cam' to Mossgiel ; an' then, the first
thing, I was like to hae blown yer brains out. Then, after
yer gudeness to me, I wud hae laid down my life for ye ;

James Hepburn.

321

an' the next thing I do is to go an' get ye into aboot the
warst trouble which could weel happen to a minister. It's
a sort o' fear's upon me, if I dinna keep out o' yer way, I'll
maybe do ye some worse mischief yet ; sae whenever I do
get out, I've a mind to keep aff ye. If there's aught to tell
aboot me, that it'll please ye to hear, I'll be proud to let you
ken. But I'll no come nigh ye mysel'."

Supposing that that distant possibility found him still
Free Church minister in Mossgiel, there might be advantages
in that resolution, Mr. Hepburn thought. He had been
allowed frequent intercourse with the prisoner, and had,
unfortunately, no reason to think, from the general tenor of
his remarks, that Blackwood's avowed intention, if he escaped
with penal servitude, of sooner or later attempting again
the avenging of his own real or supposed wrongs and now of
Mary Warrender's death, had undergone any modification.
It was not difficult to see that, as regarded the murder of the
girl, he looked upon himself as a sort of irresponsible instru-
ment in the perpetration ^of another person's crime. Mr.
Hepburn had not been slow to improve, after his own fashion,
his chances of frequent interviews with Blackwood, and his
keen study of human nature in general, and special interest
in the phase thereof now under his notice, had rendered him
quick to detect indications o^' mental and moral phenomena
which might easily have escaped more ordinary observers.
To such the case would probably have appeared a perfectly
simple one — a man of outrageously jealous disposition, and
extremely violent temper, acting on a sudden impulse of
fury. So far that judgment was correct enough, and Mr.
Hepburn would havo heartly acquiesced therein : but a good
deal more than that was discernible to him. Watching and
weighing the import of every word which fell from the
prisoner, as a medical man notes every pulse beat, or other

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symptom in a patient in a critical state, he had noted strong
evidence of, in some directions, a kind of moral paralysis.
Robert Blackwood wjts unquestionably grieved and shocked
at Marv Warrender'n murder : but it seemed to affect him
entirely as though it had been the act of another person.
He was mentally conscious that the act was his own, but
there seemed to be no moral response to that consciousness.
He was undoubtedly sorry he had done it ; but it hardly
seemed to Mr. Hepburn as if his regret went even the length
of Mr. Laing's parallel, of killing some animal he might as
well have spared. It seemed to him more akin to the feellug
of anyone who had, all unwittingly, administered to some
sick person a medicine with which some one else had mixed
poison.

And yet, in the midst of all this moral perversion of feel-
ing, he was keenly alive to the possibility of any action on
his part being a cause of pain or regret to Mr. Hepburn.
It was verily a tangled skein, and when after a kind and
earnest entreaty that he would try utterly to forget the past,
and live his future life, when once more a free man, as
though that past had never been, Mr. Hepburn took a final
leave of him, it was with a distinct consciousness that if it
might be that Blackwood should not live to regain his free-
dom, a terrible weijjht would be lifted off himself. -

Mr. Hepburn paid a visit the next day to Maggie Black-
wood. The girl had always borne herself an excellent
character, being only held as '' dour " as all the rest of the
family ; but she, like a great many other people, had suc-
cumbed to the minister's peculiar powe^ In the first
moments of her grief over the fate of her favourite brotheir,
her bleeding heart had turned with all the unerring instinct
of suffering to the strong, tender nature, whose sympathy
was strengthing and supporting, noc enervating ; and she

James Hephuini.

323

had ever since had, for him at least, that smile which had
such a transfiguring influence in the Blackwood face.

" Well Maggie," he said with a sigh, "our poor boy's
away to pay the penalty of his brave honesty."

"Ay, sir, I kent ye wad say it that way. There's some
that talks o' his paying the penalty o' his crime. But I'm
prood o' my brither the day for a' that."

"I don't wonder at that. But Maggie, how came he,
able to act so nobly, to be guilty of such a crime 1 "

The girl was standing by the table. Leaning forward
with her tightly clasped hands resting upon it, she tixed her
lull, dark eyes on the minister, and answered earnestly.

"Rob dif'.*a' ken what he was doing, sir. i'm as certain
o' that, as that yer standing here yerse'.' I'll no say that
he hasna dune mony a wrang thing, but it wasna in him to
lay hand on a woman, in his sober senses, even though he
might be angry. He was just aff his heid."

" Yes. With jealous fury."

The girl shook \er head. "That may hae set him afF,
but that wasna all. Kob's nae jut like ither people."

" Do you mean that his mind is affected 1 "

" Weel, sir, its no just easy to tell ye. The maist o' his
time Rob's heid is as guid a one as man need have. But
whiles I've kent him a bit strange an' no like his ordinar'
sel*. Ye see, sir, we were aye great frien's, an' I'm thinkin'
I'll likely hae noticed it mair than the ithers. When he's
been excited, onyway, not only wi' anger, I've kent Rob do
things he'd very little mind about afterwards. An' mair
than aince, forbye that, I've seen him in a queer state, quite
stupid like for a minute or twa, and hardly se'^min' to
understand what was said to him. It would be for only a
minute, an' then pass, an' the maist o' folk would think,
ma J be, he was just not attendiu' ; but I dinna think it wm
that way quite."

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James Hepburn.

" Did he ever drink hard 1 "

" No, sir, Rob was ne'er gien to that. He might whiles
talc* a wee drap too much, out wi' frien's, but ho was ne'er a
hard drinker. He's the best o' a' my brithers that way.
But he is vindictive, I canna deny that. I'm sair grieved
for puir Mary, but she brought it on herself, sir. She wasna
fair and straightforward wi' Rob 1 "

" Was she really encouragin«» some other man 1"

*' Rob believed it, sir. Whether it was true I canna say.
But she didna treat Rob fairly. Syne he took a notion o'
her, she'd never cause to say he gave a thocht to ony ither
lassie, and she wasna fair to him. Whiles she thocht she
would, an' whiles she thocht she wouldn't tak' him ; and
whiles she'd twit him wi' her ain folk saying he was after
her bit money, and that angered Rob sair, for he was never
ane to think o' money. I dinna weel ken a' that went on,
but I warned Mary lang syne she'd drive him too far. She
was just a flirt, an* I'd gey weel gien her up o' late, though
we used to be great frien's. It angered me to see the way
she treated Rob, and he really did care for her."

" Then you have no idea who it is he suspected ? "

"No, sir, I canna settle it on ony body. But there's one
thing I'm c^^tain, sir, if Rob ever comes across him, he'll
kill him like a dog, noo."

•' He's safe enough for years to come; at any rate."

** Do ye real?/ credit that, sir ? " the girl said, with
almost a scornful intonation. " It'll be a queer prison that
bauds Rob lang."

" He cannot possibly escape ! " exclaimed the startled
minister. ^

" Ye'll see, sir. When Rob gives his mind to a thing,
he's no often foiled. An' there's mony a thing possible to
him that's no possible to ither men. Ye see he's been that

James Hepburn.

325

the startled

much at sea, he can handle ropes and climb as nae landHUian
can ; and he's gude at a heap o' things on land forbye."

" But if he did escape he would be certain to be taken
again directly."

The girl smiled. " Ye dinna ken Rob, sir ; he's a long
heid when he gives his mind to a thing quietly. I ken ye'U
never do him an ill turn, sae I dinna mind tellin' ye, he's
laid a' his plans. He tauld Adam that much, when he
tauld him what he was goin' to do. He thocht they'd likely
gie him penal servitude, an' he tauld Adam he would just
stay in it as long as till he saw a guid chance to escape.
He'll no risk a foolish venture, but he'll just watch for his
chance, an' be ready. He said he'd likely no come near ony
o' us ', he'd maybe have to get oot of the country for a time.
But whenever we get a card by the post, wi' certain words
on't we'd ken he was oot ; an' we wad hear mair o' him some
day. He'll likely gang off to oor cousin's ^n New Zealand,
an' I hope he may. For I'll hae nae peace when I ken he's
free, for fear o' murder, sae long as he is in this country."

Most heartily could James Hepburn say Amen to that
hope. The thought of Robert Blackwood escaping had
never occurred to him, and the suggestion was a most
unwelcome one. If he did go off to New Zealand, well and
good. But if he remained at large in this country, unable
to seek honest employment, and forced to find concealment
among the criminal classes, his downward course would be
sure and rapid, and the scaffold he had once escaped, would
almost certainly be his ultimate fate.

The idea haunted him, and he found himself impressing
upom himself the difficulties attending any such attempt —
the initial difficulty of making the escape ; then that
of getting rid of the prison dress ; the marked indi-
viduality of Blackwood's appearance, with many other
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iui|»e(liment'; to be overcome, with more persistency than
Boomed quit<; consistent with a firm conviction of their
inHupeialile nature. Prisoners had been known to escape,
though not frequently, and there was not oaly. 1:^ Blacic-
wood's case, unusual strength, agility and daring, but far
more power of mental calculation and forecast, than belongs
in general to the criminal classes. Moreover, his sister's
words seemed to point to deliberate preparation, made
before his liberty was in any way abridged. In the very
moment of making a most heroic sacrifice to clear the
character of an innocent man, he seemed to have been
coolly laying his plans to avoid paying the penalty of that
sacrifice beyond the smallest fraction possible He was an
insoluble enigma, for in the minister's mind lay not only the
thought of his conduct towards himself, but the memory of
the almost passionate tremulousness of the tone in which he
had declared that he would lay down his life for Lady
Ellinor Farquharson.

And yet, how easy is sometimes the solution of a deep
and difficult problem, if you ly alter your point of view.
While all the minister's anxious pondering and studying
brought him little light, the whole question to other minds
was as clear and easy of settlement as a simple sum of
arithmetic. It had been the subject of an animated dis-
cussion at a large dinner party at the Watsons', near about
the time of Mr. Hepburn's visit to Maggie Blackwood.

" To my thinking," said Mr. Campbell, a stout, peremptory
sort of man, comfortably convinced that the opinion of a
first-rate manager of a prosperous wine business must be a
valuable contribution to the settlement of any possible
qnestio-" "it's much to be regretted the fellow was not
hung str&.ight off. I don't hold with this getting off on the
plea of insanity."

James Hepburn.

327

" That's just what he did not do," said Mr. Laing.
" The plea set up was simply that his action lacked all the
elements of murder, because he chanced upon the girl quite
unexpectedly at the moment ; that it was a sudden impulse
of furious jealousy. His family tendency was merely
advanced as a reason for his being more likely than other
men to be seized by a sudden impulse."

"Then you must remember, Campbell," put in Mr. Lorri-
mer,who approached that side of the subject with more alacrity
than most of the party, " his voluntary confession in order
to clear Mr. Hepburn. You can't expect but that that fact
should have weight."

" Oh, I expect nothing at all. I call all that sort of
thing sentiment. If a man commits a murder he ought to
be hung for it, that's my idea, unless, of course, you can
prove that he was unconscious that he was doing it. If a
man isn't too mad to know what he is doing, he isn't too
mad to be punished for doing it."

"Quite right, Mr. Campbell," said Mr. Wylie. "That's
a very safe and simple rule, and one I am very glad to see
the judges are inclined to enforce more strictly. There's
been a great deal too much of this scientific hair-splitting of
late, over cases of this sort. I can quite understand the
inclination to let Blackwood off, on account of his plucky
honesty, but as for the irresistible impulse theory, it's all rot."

" What do you say, Tweedie ? " askec the host.

Dr. Tweedie shook his head with a smile. " That's out
of my line," he said. " We ordinary practitioners do not
gain the sort of knowledge necessary to enable us to form
judgments worth much on such points."

" At any rate you can form a common sense judgment."
said Mr. Wylie rather insolently, " and that I take it is
about what is wanted."

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"That ia just what T should expect you to think," replied
Dr. Tweedie, quietly. "The common sense judgment, I
imagine pretty fairly represents the legal judgment in
general. In questions of medical science, however, a com-
mon sense judgment is pretty nearly an equivalent term
tor a comprehensive ignorance judgment ; and comprehen-
sive ignorance is a wonderful clearer away of all difficulties in
the way of reaching an opinion, My position is not com-
prehensive ignorance, but partial knowledge, so I do not
find it quite so easy to reach settled opinions."

" ] should like to hear you discuss that question with
some of our leading judges," retorted Mr. Wylie, looking
rather angry.

" I shouldn't attempt it. I see no use in talking to a
man about a subject he doesn't in the least understand."

Mr. Laing gave a short quick laugh. " You are terribly
profane, Tweedie."

" Yes, when lawyers make excursions into the domain of
science. In their own department I am often amazed at
the mental power they display. But I cannot regard their
scientific utterances as valuable contributions to the sum of
human knowledge."

" Then do you mean," asked Mr. Lorrimer, " that you
think Blackwood was not responsible 1 "

" I am not in possession of data sufficient to justify my
opinion. I am neither well up in the subject from a scien-
tific standpoint, nor have I any intimate knowledge of the
facts of his particular case. All that I can safely venture
to affirm is, that his mental and moral conditi'^ 9 a very
peculiar one." ^

" Pity it wasn't put an end to withafew yards of rope then,"
said Mr. Campbell. " That's my opinion, and the opinion of
most people in town, I believe. For my part, I can only

James Hepburn.

:J29

say I hope the judges will stick firmly to the practice of
holding to plain, tangible facts, and not allow the foisting
in of this moral and mental phenomena business, in simple
cases of murder."

" It will certainly simplify the administration of the law,"
replied Dr. Tweedie, quietly. And with that the subject
dropped.

By degrees, as time wore on, the idea of Robert Black-
wood's possible escape faded a good deal out of Mr. Hep-
burn's mind. His work was heavy, as is certain to be the
work of a man to whom the outcasts, the destitute, and the
sorrowing instinctively turn their pleading eyes in the hour
of despair. But Mcssgiel seemed to be growing, in some
way, more congenial to him. He was inclined to lay the
fact to the negative cause of the removal of his heaviest
sources of anxiety, but in truth Mr. Laing's prophecy was
beginning to show the first indications of fulfilment. Men,
and women too, are ofttimes better than their creed, and
the tribute of silent respect was, in reality, paid by many
who still professed to censure his action in regard of all the
past scandals. He had shown himself strong, true, and fear,
less, and all Mossgiel knew that no amount of personal
effort or sacrifice weighed with him for a moment, where
suffering could be relieved, sorrow lightened, or distress
alleviated. These things will tell, and both respect and
affection were surely, if as yet not very openly, growing ;
silently working their way, until some accident should cause
them suddenly to burst into full and vigorous life.

Strathellon continued empty and silent, so Mossgiel wab
thrown back upon its own internal resources for gossip.
Mrs Tweedie had an occasional letter from Lady Eilinor
Farquharson, showing that she had no intention that those
who 1 "ght have bee^i gainers by her presence at Strath-

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James Hepburn.

ellou should be losers by her absence. But those letters
tulJ Mr. Hepburn nothing. She spoke little of herself,
and merely allowed it to appear, rather as an inference
than a positive aKsertion, that she would be at Strathellon
again sometime towards the beginning of the ensuing
summer.

That she and Sir Maurice Adair were safely apart was
about all the minister knew. Of his whereabouts and gen-
eral proceeding Mossgiel knew very little, when Strathellon
was not a connecting link between it and Dunkerran. The
place was not very far distant from Mossgiel, but all its con-
nections lay in a completely different direction, the separ-
ating distance being chiefly composed of wild rough moor-
land, so that communication by anything like a road involved
very much longer journey than the actual distance in a
straight line. It was chiefly through Mr. Laing's acquain-
tance with the Chamberlaynes that Mr. Hepburn heard from
time to time, enough of Sir Maurice Adair, to know that
though he was not very persistently at Dunkerran, he was
certainly not anywhere in the neighborhood of Cannes. So
far so well, and the minister tried to be very hopeful ; but the
feeling would not come at his bidding. He could not conceal
from himself that the mere fact of his feeling such extreme
satisfaction in the knowledge that Lady Ellinor and Sir
Maurice were personally apart, was the strongest of proofs
of his own deep-seated conviction that the circumstances of
both were fraught with dangerous possibilities. Until the
day when ho could regard personal association as wholly
unimportant for Lady Ellinor Farquharson, he could feel
no well assured confidence of her safety, and save in the
apparently most improbable case of a total change in her
relations to her husband, that could never be until many a
long year had passed over her head.

James Hepbui'n.

331

Chapter XXVI.

PREDICTIONS VERIFIED.

JAMES HEPBURN had not failed to make the chaplain
of the prison where Robert Blackwood was working
out his sentence fully acquainted with the peculiar circum-
stances of the case, and of his own earnest wish to bo
kept well informed of everything concerning the prisoner,
and his wishes had been kindly and fully met.

" He is, I think," the chaplain wrote, after Blackwood
had been for some time under his supervision, "-at once the
best conducted, and most unsatisfactory prisoner with whom
I have ever had to deal. He is perfectly quiet and orderly.
I do not think, since he came here, that he has ever been
even reproved ? but he is as hard and cold as a stone out
wardly, though, all the time, I always feel as if under the
stone there was boiling lava. To me he is always civil and
respectful in manner. He listens quietly to all I have to
say, but as for drawing any response from him, I might as
well talk to a statue. His face always wears the same
slightly sullen expression, and he speaks very little to any.
one. He seems to me to be always quietly watching f;very-
thing that goea on ; but be is a most inscrutable character.
Wathing him during divine service, the time when of course
I have most chance of doing so unobserved, it seems to me as
though he is constantly brooding over something. My strong
impression is that he will some day do something desperate,
but most of the officials are inclined to laugh at my prognosti-
cation. They hold him to be a better educated, and, as far

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JanifiH Hpphum.

Hocial position goes, giiperior man to the mass of our prinonertt,
therefore more amenable to discipline, and with more men-
tal capacity tor calculating the andvantages of such persis-
tont good conduct as may ensure his freedom at the earliest
possible date. Time will show who is in the right."

Reading the circumstances by the light of Maggie Black-
wood's information, Mr. Hepburn had little difficulty in
arriving at an opinion on that subject ; and, in reply, he
went so far as to say that he certainly fully expected to hear
some day that Blackwood had given them a surprise.
Further than that he would not go. That the prisoner
should not succeed in escaping was his own most fervent
wish, but he could not in the most indirect way interfere
with him. The one fact which, come what might, must ever
rule his action with respect to Blackwood was, that to him
he owed it that he stood before the world with a perfectly
unblemished character.

As has been said, however, by degrees, amidst all the
pressure of innumerable subjects for meditation which fall
to the share of the minister of a town congregation, who is
at once a hard worker and a deep student, the thought of
any such escape dropped somewhat out of Mr. Hepburn's
mind. Save when he chanced to see Maggie Blackwood,
there was little in his daily associations to keep her brother
in his thoughts.

When, therefore, one evening in the following spring, he
was told that the sergeant of police wanted to see him, he
ordered him to be ndmitted, without any thought beyond a
passing wonder what ne'er-do-well was in trouble now ? A
visit to him n search of antecedents was, under these circum-
stances, no unusual occurrence. It had come to be a sort of
recognised fact in Mossgiel, that if the truth about any
outcast in the town was to be found out, the information

J amen Hepburn.

iy,ys

wanted was most likely to be got from the Free Church
minister.

" Well, sergeant," ho said, as the man entered, " who is it
nowl"

With professional cautioii the man waited until the door
was closed. Then coming forward, so that he faced Mr. Hep-
burn full, he fixed a keen glance upon him, and quietly
answered —

" Robert Blackwood has escaped, sir."

" Ha ! " exclaimed the minister, with a sudden start.
At the moment the man spoke he had been reaching across
the table for a paper-knife with which to mark the place in
the book he was reading at which he had been interrupted,
so he had not observed the glance fixed oi himself. With
his Axclamation he looked up, caught the steady gaze, and
returned it with a half-amused look, adding only to his first
utterance the single word,

"Well!"

The sergeant half smiled. " I didn't think I should catch
you, sir. But I suppose you know nothing about it?"

" My good friend, I know nothing on earth about it, at
this moment. But I tell you plainly, should I come to know
anything, I shall tell you nothing ; neither should I give you
the slightest aid, if I came to know where he is "

The man looked grave. " It's a very serious thing, sir,
prisoners escaping this way. It's a great encouragement to
others to try, if they see one succeed in getting safe off."

" Very likely, and it is your duty to leave no stone un-
turned to try and bring about Blackwood's capture, even to
the length, if you like, of setting a man to track my move-
ments. But it is e ually my duty not to be such a rascally
sneak as to move a hi.^er in the matter. But sit down and
tell me all about it."

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James Hepburn.

" I've nothing to tell, as yet, sir, I only just got the tele-
gram half-an hour since. He made his escape this morning,
sometime, but I know no particulars. 1m just going to
set "

" Hold your tongue, man ! " exclaimed Mr. Hepburn.
" Don't tell me what you are going to do. I don't want to
hear a word. I tell you plainly, Blackwood, to me, is simply
the man who put a halter around his own neck to clear my
character. I am very sorry he has made his escape, but not
only shall in no way betray him, but if he comes to me for
any help, I shall do my utmost to aid his escape. Not that
I think he will apply to me. I merely warn you of what I
should do if he did."

The sergtsant shook his head. " I can't bhink you are in
the right, sir."

" I have not the least wish to hear what you think," re-
plied the ministei , with some asperity. Then he added more
gontly, " You must remember the circumstances of this case
are, as far as they concern me, very peculiar. Your duty is
perfectly clear, so is mine. Where that is the case, the less
possible consequences are looked at the better."

" Would you like, sir, to hear any particulars of his escape,
when I know them ? I can't think hovr he can have man-
aged it. I know the place. I should have said it was quite
impossible. But he is sure to be taken. The prison dross
alone will be safe to run him in."

" I shall most likely hear particuWs from the chaplain,"
replied Mr. Hepburn. " He has written to me more than

once.

The sergeant retired to take all his measures, leaving the
minister speculating with some little amusement whether
putting a strict watch on his movements would be one of
them ? and made fully conscious, by the feelings called up

James Hepburn.

335

^ou are in

by the man's last assertion, that the natural instincts of
every true-born Briton were strong within him ; and that, in
spite of all that reason or judgment could say, there was a
strong wish within him that Blackwood might not be re-
taken.

The anticipated letter arrived the next afternoon.

" Blackwood," the chaplain wrote, **■ has abundantly veri-
fied your prediction that be would give us a surprise some
day. He has made the most extraordinary escape ever made
from here, one the incredible daring of which you cannot
^ cture to yourself unless you knew the spot. To give you
an idea of it, T must explain that there is within the prison
a paved court, shut in on three sides by the main body of
the building. Along the fourth side runs a wall some twenty
feet in height, against which are built some outhouses, used
for various purposes. During a strong gale a few nights
since a heavy chimney-pot from the higher buildings fell on
the roof of one of those outhouses and did some damage.
Blackwood said he could easily repair it, as he understood
the work. He was sent to do it, with a single warder in
charge, the place being considered absolutely safe, as the
drop on the outer side of the wall is over forty feet. What
happened further is to some extent a matter of conjecture.
Some time later a warder, going accidentally into the court
for something, found the warder who had accompanied
Blackwood lying on the ground insensible, bleeding profusely
from a terrible blow on the head. The short ladder, taken
for use in mending the slates, was standing against the out-
house ; of Blackwood there was no trace. It is simply im-
possible that he could have escaped through the prison. Over
that more than forty feet wall he had gone in some way ;
and there is only one way in which he could have done it.
Near the prison wall grows a magnificent beech tree, of most

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James Hepburn.

unusual size, the outer branches of which extend to within
a few feet of the wall. Incredible as it appears, there seems
to be little doubt that Blackwood must have taken a flying
leap into the tree, on the chance of catching the boughs, and
that he thus got to the ground and made his escape. As the
only alternative is that he jumped sh^er off a wall over forty
feet in height, on to very rough ground, and escaped unin-
jured, we are obliged to accept this hypothesis : but I think
nothing short of that fact would induce any of us to believe
it possible. Blackwood is, I believe, a practised seaman, and
one of our warders, who was at sea as a young fellow, says
he thinks he has known of as daring feats safely accom-
plished by sailors under desperate conditions. Nothing has
as yet been heard of the prisoner, but search parties are out,
and as he was in his prison dress, we look on his re-capture
as a matter of certainty. The warder is not, the doctor thinks,
in serious danger, but he has lost a good deal of blood, and
is very weak, so no questions have as yet been put to him.
He is to be kept as quiet as possible for a few days."

Mr. Hepburn at once put on his hat and went in search
of Maggie Blackwood. The girl answered his knock with
an expression of subdued triumph on her face.

" I tell't ye, sir," she said, " Rob wadna bide ower lang
in yonder place."

" Then you have had your card ? "

" Not yet, sir. Rob wad likely no post it till he got a
gude bit awa ! "

The minister was conscious of a distinct sensation of dis-
appointment. More likely he had beei. already retaken ;,
but had not reached the prison when the chaplain wrote.

" How did you hear of his escape then ? " he asked.

" The police were down, an' I doubt they're watchin' the

James Hepburn.

337

hoose the noo. They'll no tak' ower much by that move,
I'm thinkin'."

" I can tell you all about the escape," Mr. Hepburn said.

"Eh, sir ! Are ye in it?"

" No. But I've heard," and he read the chaplain's letter.
The girl was sobbing with excitement before he had done.

" Eh, but that's gran ! I'm prood o' Rob. Nae sneakin'
oot as if he hadn't the courage to tight for't. I ken*t he*d
do it like a man, when he did."

" How about the warder, Maggie ? "

" Weel, sir, ye see yersel' v, Iiat the doctor says. He isn't
in serious danger. Do you ken what a blow from Rob is ?
Do you think he didna try no to hit him harder than was
needfu'. If Rob hadna been minded to spare him a' he
could, do ye think he'd ever have spoken again ? Na, na.
I ken my ain brither richt weel. Rob is vindictive, I'll no
deny that, and he thinks he's been w ranged ; but he wadna
hurt an insect o' his ain free will. But I'm sair feared,
sir, he just lookit on the warder as bein' between him an'
his vengeance. I do hope he'll gang t>^i6rto New Zealand. I'll
be anxious till we hear somethin'. Will I let you ken when
we get the card ? "

" If you do get it by all means let me know. But you
must not be too confident, Maggie. The police think the
prison dress is safe to insure his being retaken. You see he
got away in broad daylight, not in the night."

" We shall see," replied the girl, with a half smile. " I'd
back Rob against the police ony day."

Nor did Maggie Blackwood's confidence prove, in this
case, ill-founded. Two .' .ys passed, and then she appeared at
the manse, serenely triumphant.

"The card cam' this morn, sir," she said. '* I've brought
it for ye to see. It's Rob's ain han'."

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James Hepbv/m.

She handed the minister a card, on which was written,
" Thanks for amount of account, safely received.— J. I^eil-

80N."

" It's rash for him to send a card in his own hand-writ-
ing," Mr. Hepburn said.

Maggie laughed. " Look at the post-mark, sir.''

" Glasgow ! What of that 1 "

" Rob's nae in Glasgow, I doubt, sir ; but J. Neilson is.
We're beginnin' to have a notion what's up, sir. Rob's aye
close when he has ony scheme in his mind, an' he ne'er telt us
hoo he v/ad set about his escape. But he kens some Neilsons
in Glasgow, an' he was awa' there for a day before he gave
himsel' up. I doubt they're in it ; an' Adam's awa' the noo
ower the hills to Brackenlaw station to get the train for
Glasgow from there an' see them. We dinna ken muckle
o' them ; but there's a son Adam has seen who's been awa'
in Canada this four or five years, an' Adam says he is na
althegither' unlike Rob ; that he's muckle about Rob's height,
wi' dark hair an' eyes, just like eneuch that a description o'
the one wad sound much like, it might be, the ither ; an'
Adam's taen a thocht that Rob's goin', if he's questioned
ony where, to say he's James Neilson, an' that they'll own
him. We think he sent the card for them to post, meanin'
we would understand to gang to them an' hear aboot him."

" Pray Heaven they may be able to tell you he has got
safe ofi* to New Zealand," Mr. Hepburn said.

A shadow crossed the girl's face. " Ay, sir, I hope it may
be that way ; but if Rob can get the hunt after him safe
passed, I doubt if it will. It'll maybe help him greatly in
that to get owned by the Neilsons. But I'll let ye ken what
Adam hears. I doubt he'll stay ower the Sabbath in Glas-
gow, an* be hame on Monday."

It did not seem to James Hepburn as if he ^as to be

James Hepburn.

339

allowed to hear mucli of anything else save Blackwood and
his escape, for the next day Sir Maurice Adair drove up to
the manse in search of information.

"I can give you none," the minister said, "beyond the
fact that he has escaped, and, as yet, has not been retaken."

" I was rather startled when I heard of it," Sir Maurice
said. " It places me in rather an awkward position. I never
thought of his escaping when I told him to come to me
whenever he was a free man. It is a serious matter to aid
an escaped prisoner. Yet, for the life of me, I could not
make up my mind to abandon him."

" You may make your mind quite easy on the score of
anything you can do for him," the minister said earnestly,
" if you will only try to get him to leave the country. There
is, unfortunately, not the least doubt that he still clings to
his intention of taking vengeance on his supposed rival. It
is quite impossible for you to denounce hini ; the greatest
benefit you can do to the community is to aid in getting rid
of him."

" Should I seek him out ? "

" I think not. You are more likely to betray him by
doing so than anything else. Do nothing ; but if he comes
to you, try to the utmost of your ability to get him to go to
New Zealand. He may do very well out there."

" Do you think he is really insane ? " Sir Maurice asked,
a little anxiously. Under pressure of sincere regret for his
own unintentional share in bringing about the disasters
which had fallen so heavily on James Hepburn and Robert
Blackwood, and with apparently long years between his
promise of aid and any necessity for making good that pro-
mise, he had been eager in making offers, which were sooth-
ing to his own conscience, and at the same time involved
no present inconvenience. Now the subject appeared in a

340

James Hepburn.

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wholly different light ; and though he had not the smallest
intention of drawing back, he felt much less enthusiastic.
It must be allowed that to be pledged to find some occupa-
tion for a man possibly subject to attacks of homicidal mania,
is a position calculated to make any man look grave.

Mr. Hepburn shook his head. " That is a question I dare
not attempt to answer. He certainly is not insane in the
ordinary sense of the word. I only wish he had been. Then
he would have been guarded for life from any chance of
doing further mischief. Of course I am not qualified to look
at the subject from a scientific point of view ; but, as far as
my experience and observation go, he seems to me to be the
victim of a sort of diseased self-consciousness."

Sir Maurice looked rather puzzled. <* I don't think I quite
understand," he said.

" Well, I suppose it is an outrageously exaggerated growth
of what is ordinarily termed touchiness ; that sort of dispo-
sition which renders people always ready to take offence
about trifles. In Blackwood the tendency seems to have
reached a pitch that turns a merely irritating folly into a
serious danger. It so distorts his moral sense, that where
he imagines himself aggrieved, no vengeance he can take
seems to him unjustifiable. His own personality assumes
such stupendous proportions that any rights or feelings of
others are dwarfed almost out of existence. There certainly
seems also to be absolute paralysis of moral sensation in some
directions."

It was Sir Maurice's turn to shake his head.

" You are carrying me quite beyond my depth," he said.
" But I suppose the practical outcome of all this is, that you
believe he will still try to murder the man he suspects, when-
ever he can get a chance."

" I feel only too painfully certain of it. Therefore I say,

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341

;ion in some

get him out of the country if you can. It will be the best
chance for him, and also for the object of his hatred."

" I wish we knew who that is. I wonder if I could draw
it out of him ? "

The minister smiled. The relative weight and force of
the two characters considered, there seemed to be something
extremely absurd in the idea of Sir Maurice Adair practis-
ing in any way upon Robert Blackwood. " I do not think
you will make much of that. My only hope is, that as the
object of his suspicion is clearly some one about this neigh-
bourhood, he may be already, to some extent, on his guard.
He can hardly be ignorant of the actual occurrences that
have taken place, and may chance to know a good deal more
than either you or I know."

Sir Maurice went his way, and then for eight and forty
hours Mr. Hepburn was allowed to forget the subject, if he
could. On Monday night Adam Blackwood to him.

" Rob's had a rare stroke o' gude luck, sir," he said.

" Where is he ? "

" In Wellborough hospital, wi' his face past reoognisin' by
ane o' oorsels', I doubt. The letter cam' just as I got to the
Neilsons. Here it is, sir."

The letter was from one of the hospital officials written
by request of " Mr. James Neilson," to tell his father that
he had reached Wellborough in safety ; but had met with
a severe accident just after arriving. Passing across an
open space, where a sale of horses was going on, he had been
kicked in the face. Fortunately it was a spent kick, and
though his face was very much cut and bruised, and the
doctors feared the nose was broken, they still did not antici-
pate any serious consequences, unless erysipelas should sup-
ervene. That might render the case critical.

The minister laid dpwij the letter with a strong inclina-
(22)

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tion to say that the stars in their courses w^re fighting for
the escaped convict.

"It's an awf u* piece o' luck, is it no, sir? " Adam Blackwood
said. " It'll keep Rob safe eneuch this some time. It's a' sae
straightforward an' natural like. Mr. Neilson wrote back
a gran' I <ter, straight awa. He said he was sair nit about
to hoar I the accident to his son, an' if the doctors thocht
there was the least danger, wad they telegraph at once, an'
he wad coma directly Otherwise it wasna very easy for hira
t*^ get awa' just then. Tt wad be a clever man that could
recognise ony one wi' his face a' straps and bandages, an'
it'll Stan Rob in gude stead this some time. He'll be weel
able to keep somethin' on his face for a lang while."

" Certainly the accident will greatly aid his chance of
escape," the minister said, thinking the while that it would
sadly facilitate also his chances of remaining in the country,
if he was minded so to do. He made no remark on the sub-
ject, however. Adam Blackwood was not one of the family
with whom he felt disposed to exchange any confidences.

" How on earth," he added, " can he have managed to eet
rid of the prison dress ? "

" I canna tell ye that, sir. I'm puzzled mysel', but Rob
had laid a' his plans maist carefully. He's gey close though
an' he never let oot to ony o' us what he'd dune. As lang
as he's in the hospital we'll hear aboot him, but I doubt
we'll no hear afterwards for lang while. He'll ken there'll
be a watch kept up for mony a day, an' I doubt he'll keep
clear o' ony chance o' stumblin* on onybody he kens."

" Who are these Neilsons ? " Mr. Hepburn asked. " Are
they people in any way likely to be able to help your brother
after he leaves the hospital '? "

Ad^m 3lack wood .gave a rather expressive shrug of his
shoulders. " 1 doubt ye's best speer at auld Cruickshanks

Jamee Hepburn.

343

aboot them, sir. If Ronald and Robson was ever onybody
at all, I doubt it was nearer being John Neilson than ony-
body else. I think he owns a boat or twa, an' roaybe it
wad'na just be easy to say exactly what trade they carry on.
But I ken vera little aboot it. The sea was aye Rob's
fancy far mair than mine, an' I dinna ken muckle o' his
sea-goin' acquaintances. I've no mind o' ever seein' John
Neilson till I went to Glasgow on Friday, but they've a tidy
wee place, an' a' things nice aboot them ; an' they were extra
kind, an' seem to think a heap o' Rob. They're sair pit
aboot at his gettin' into this trouble. John Neilson hinisel'
is greatly puzzled. He says he canna mak' oot "

The man paused abruptly, with a curious look of doubt
and hesitation.

" Cannot make out what? " asked Mr. Hepburn, smiling,
with a shrewd suspicion of what was to come Blackwood
caught the look and laughed himself.

" Weel, sir, he canna mak' oot whatever sud hae ta'en
Rob to mak' him sae daft aboot a minister. He speered nae
end about ye when I was in Glasgow."'

" I hope you gave me a good character," the minister said,
with a smile.

I could only say, sir, that Rob was'na the only one ye'd
bewitched some way, an' that ye were nae like ony minister
I'd ever seen. But as for why Rob sud think sae muckle o'
ye I could say naethin', for it's just what I dinna under-
stand mysel'."

" Nor I," said Mr. Hepburn.

" Weel, sir, I suppose the sun doesna athegither under-
staun' why his shinin' mak*s a' things glad. We're, nane o'
us, o' muckle acount, we Blackwoods ; but I think whiles
if there'd been a minister like you here when we were lad-
dies gangin' to the Sabbath schule, we'd likely hae turned
oot different. Good nicht, sir."

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James Hepburn.

He disappeared with the words, leaving. James Hepburn
once more startled and somewliat puzi:lod by the results of
his own doings. As regarded Robert Blackwood, the posi-
tion of affairs was, on the whole, satisfactory to him so far
as his own connection therewith was concerned. He seemed
to bo entirely relieved from all responsibility. A man more
prone toleufpf^ling be notonlythesource, but theguideof action,
might hardly have been able to resist the impulse to try and
re-establish personal relations with one who, with all his
sins and short-comings, had so strong a claim on his affec-
tion, but his judgment w^s against any such step ; so beyond
committing a message to Maggie Blackwood, to be trans-
mitted to her brother whenever an opportunity should occur,
he mide no effort to communicat'^ with him.

Jamea Hepburn.

345

CHAPTER XXVII.

BAD SYMPTOMS.

REPORTS of the 8t«,te of Ins self-constituted son were
sent at intervals to Mr. John Neilson, and replied to
by him with due manifestation of parental feeling. Erysipelas
did supervene, and for a short time the case seemed likely to
turn out a grave one. The tinal result, however, was merely
to delay most cofiveniently the departure of the patient from
the hospital, where he lay comfortably reposing behind a
safe mask of bandages and strapping plaster, while every
port in the United Kingdom was being carefully watched,
and numberless peaceable citizens of the empire, who chanced
to be young, tall, dark-complexioned, and possessed of dark
eyes and hair, were subjected to much insulting espionage.

At last came a letter from the patient himself, which was
duly forwarded to Mossgiel, and brought by Maggie Black-
wood to the manse. It was to the effect that he was to leave
the hospital in a few days ; but added the important fact,
that his friends must not be surprised if they did not recog-
nise him at first. His face was still much marked, and
would continue so, the doctors said, for some little time.

From that day forward all intelligence ceased. All that
Robert Blackwood's friends knew, certainly, about him, was
that he had not been re- captured, and that seemed to James
Hepburn to imply almost certainly that he had left the
country. With his speech betraying his nationality, and
his somewhat marked personal appearance, it seemed hardly
credible that, even supposing his face to be somewhat altered

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James Heplnim.

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in feature by the lucky accident which had befallen him, he
should escape such observation as would lead to his identi
fication.

It chanced, however, one day that James Hepburn, having
gone on some business to the county town, met Sir Maurice
Adair accidentally in the street. He noted instantly the
start and slight flush with which he was recognised, as well
as a momentary hesitation, which seemed to indicate that
Sir Maurice would have avoided the meeting, h» I he not
perceived that the minister had recognized him before he
had himself been aware who was approaching.

" You are the last person I expected to see, Mr. Hepburn,"
he said, " I think you do not often stray out of your own
dominions."

" I'm a dissenter, you know. I haven't any dominions."

" Well, no, not in a legal sense, but you have a sort of
radius, I suppose. Any startling news stirring in Mossgiel ?
By-the-by, has the last political news reached you there ? I
mean local political news?"

" None has reached me."

'* Well, it may turn out a false alarm, but we are threat
ened with another election. Pitcairn is likely to go to th^
Upper House. His father is dangerously ill. It is really
appalling. When we got Pitcairn in so satisfactorily after
poor Anson's death, we did not bargain for having another
election so soon. The doctors think Lord Caf.iJeton may
rally, but they are not very sanguine, Pitcairn will be a
loss. I don't suppose he will ever be Prime Mirister, but he
is a shrewd, cleai-headed fellow, and a useful county mem-
ber. But, of course, you are a Liberal." '

'-I am not sure if I am actually the one or the other.
But at the present moment I am more concerned with a
wholly different question which I wish to put to you."

Javue Hepburn.

347

"Indeed. What is that?" said Sir Maurice, with a
slightly overdone air of indifference.

♦• Have you ever heard anything of Robert Blackwood 1 "
" Well, since you ask nie the question, I must admit that
I have."

" Why on earth should you have any hesitation in doing
so?"

" That is just what I do not know myself," he answered,
laughing. " But the fact is I am acting under pressure to
some extent. I have had some communication with him,
but he very earnestly begged I would not mention him in
any way to you, if I could possibly avoid it."
" Did he assign any reason for such a request ? "
" He said he had been the cause of quite enough mischief
to you, and wanted to feel sure he should cause you no more.
He seemed to have the idea that your knowing anything
about an escaped prisoner might be a disadvantage to you."
" You have seen him then ? "

Sir Maurice hesitated. " Well, yes, I have done so. But
please ask me no more questions, Mr. Hepburn. I trust I
have been able to help him to a position of tolerable safety,
and a certainty of supporting himself respectably. That
much it is only fair to tell you, considering your interest in
him. Moreover, Blackwood did ask me, at the time I saw
him, should his name ever be mentioned between us, to tell
you he had received your message, and was most grateful to
you ; and that he hoped some day he might see you again.
I hope and trust he may do well. I think he is pretty safe
out of the way of getting into mischief. And now," he added,
looking at his watch, " I must beg you to excuse me. I have
an appointment."

The minister went on his way with a sort of vague, unde-
fined misgiving in his mind. There had been a certain

34S

James Hepburn.

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amount of embarrassment in Sir Maurice Adairs' manner, for
which the circumstances of their interview seemed hardly
sufficient to account. He might deem Blackwood's request
extraordinary, perhaps ungracious, although the reason
assigned was plausible enough. But there was certainly no
need that he should be disturbed thereby.

Mr. Hepburn had been on his way to one o^ the banks
when he met Sir Maurice Adair, and thither he now directed
his steps. He was just on the point of entering, and was
pausing in the doorway looking in his pocket book for some
memoranda about the business he bad to transact, when
some one, coming rather hastily out of the bank, nearly ran
against him. He looked up and found himself face to face
with General Farquharson.

" Ah, Mr. Hepburn ! A most unexpected and pleasant
meeting. You did not know, I suppose, that we had re-
turned from abroad."

" No. I understood that you were not expected for about
a fortnight."

" Just so. We had not intended being back sooner. But
this possible election has disarranged our plans. If there
should be a vacancy, which is, I fear, little short of a cer-
tainty, Mr. Chamberlayne thinks of coming forward. Lord
Castleton's illness has been so sudden, it has taken us quite
by surprise, and has left us little time for all the arrange-
ments which it seems certain we shall have to make. I am
anxious to forward Charaberlayne's candidature as far as I
possibly can, so I returned at once. He is a thoroughly good
business man, and in all respects, I think, a very suitabljB
member."

" Is Lady EUinor, then, not with you ?"

" Oh yes, she is here. We have just deposited her sister
at home, and are on our way to Strathellon. Lady EUinor

James Hepburn.

349

wished to see about a few little thing for the house, which
she thought she could get here as well as anywhere else, so
we are staying for a couple of nights at the Royal Hotel."

" I hope Lady EUinor is well ? "

" Quite well, thank you. We have had a pleasant winter
at Cannes. I must allow I missed my shooting, and sighed
occasionally when I thought of my hunters ; still I have
every reason to be pleased. I think Lady Ellinor looks
better, and has really enjoyed the time there. There was a
very pleasant little society there this winter ; but come and
see her yourself. I am just on my way back to the luncheon.
Come with me. I met Sir Maurice Adair a little while since,
and he promised to lunch with us. Lady Ellinor declares
the very atmosphere is darkened with political small talk.
She will be charmed to see you, and delighted to have a com-
panion who can think and talk of something else."

" You are very kind, but I cannot join you to-day. I have
business on hand which will fill up all my time until my
train starts. I shall hope to call and see Lady Ellinor very
shortly."

" Don't stand on the ceremony of calling. We are to have
a dinner party immediately, political, of course. You must
join us. Shall you be at home to-morrow afternoon ? "

" Certainly, if you wish it."

" I will see you then in the afternqon. We shall be at
Strathellon by luncheon time. I think there are some peo-
ple in the town who might be useful. Charaberlayne seems
to think so. I should like to consult you. 1 must go now.
Luncheon will be waiting. Good-bye. I am sorry you cannot
join us. To-morrow about four o'clock I shall hope to see
you."

General Farquharson hurried away. The prospect of war,
even a mere political county combat, seemed to have roused

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him into unwonted sprightliness and activity, while almost
with every word he had spoken the minister's heart had
sunk lower and lower. & Maurice Adair's slight embar-
rassment seemed to be explained in about the most sinister
manner possible. It was a bad symptom for the moment,
a worse omen for the future. General Farquharson coming
forward as a strong supporter of Mr. Chamberlayne meant,
of course, much intercourse between the two houses, and
that inevitably portended frequent meetings with Sir
Maurice Adair ; meetings which General Farquharson, look-
ing at the subject from his point of view, would probably
regarded as perfectly immaterial. James Hepburn returned
home with a heavier heart than he had known since the
momentous evening of Robert Blackwood's appearance at
the congregational meeting.

With military punctuality General Farquharson drove up
to the manse door at four o'clock the next afternoon.
" Heaven be praised," the minister muttered, as his quick
eye caught tremulous motions of window curtains on the
opposite side of the way, " that it is he, not she. They can
surely not make much out of a visit from him."

There was plenty of time if they wished to do so. The
visit was a long one. General Farquharson was thoroughly
— James Hepburn would almost have said terribly — in
earnest.

" I am determined to leave no stone unturned to bring
Chamberlayne in," he said. " At the last election I had
hardly been long enough here to have either the time or the
acquaintance with the local circumstances necessary to en-
able me to take any active part in the business. It is dif-
ferent now. It naturally falls on me to work up this side
of the county, as the other side falls to Sir Maurice Adair."

" Who will, I hope, stay there." There was something

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Jamea Hepburn.

351

so irritating to Mr. Hepburn in General Farquharson's un-
concerned allusions to the man who was a source of such
terrible peril that the words flashed out almost without any
voluntary framing of them on his own part.

General Farquharson smiled. " It will be best for him,
perhaps. At any rate, he will have plenty to occupy him
for some time. You recall to my mind, Mr. Hepburn, our
last abruptly ended conversation. I cannot tell you how
often I have felt grateful to you for the hint you gave me. I
have had strong reason to think, since we left Strathellon, that
Sir Maurice had caused Lady Ellinor much more uneasiness
than I was aware; but that she shrank from saying anything to
me, from fear of conveying too strong an impression, and thus
doing him an injustice. I am very conscious that I ought
to have been more cautious, and am proportionally indebted
to you for your plain speaking. Of course we shall see a
good deal of Sir Maurice now, for a time ; but I shall take
good care it is only under circumstances which will, in them-
selves, be quite sufficient check upon any chance of Lady
Ellinor being for a moment placed in the very unpleasant
position of feeling herself obliged in any way to stand on
her guard."

James Hepburn could have groaned aloud over this hon-
ourable obtuseness ; this fatuous confidence. An almost in-
voluntary sigh, and slight movement of impatience escaped
him. General Farquharson observed, and misunderstood it.

" I must not, however, take up too much of you ; time,"
he said. " I want you to tell me about sundry residents in
the town who have votes, or influence with county voters.
We are to have a political dinner party to discuss arrange,
ments. Mr. Laing mentioned one or two names to Mr.
Chamberlayne. He said you held aloof from politics en-
tirely ; but I know you can give me information. And

352

Jamea Hepburn.

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you must come and dine with us, to keep Lady Eilinor com-
pany."

Did Lady Eilinor wish it ? he wondered. He cared very
little whether she did or not. It was best for her that he
should be there, therefore there he would be. But as to this
political discussion, why should lie be selected 1

"Why should you come to me about the business t" he
asked. " The larger part of my congregation are Liberals
of course. The Established minister would serve you better.
I doubt if there is a single Conservative among us save
Laing, and I do not think I know any personally in the
town save Mr. Lorrimer and Mr. Campbell. Mr. Morrison
will tell you far more than I can."

"Doubtless, and probably go and repeat to each individual
the particular questions I have asked about him, which would
all tend to show that my object was to find out where lay
each man's mental corns. These sort of people are generally
abominably touchy, and if I am left to flounder about among
a whole lot of them without any danger signals, I may end
in making them all ardent Liberals before I know where
lam."

The minister gave a short laugh. " And you come to me,
of all people, the very Orson of the town. I should think I
never went to a gathering of half-a-dozen people that I did
not trample on some one's social corns. But I think you are
on pretty safe ground. Watson is a strong Liberal, so you
need have nothing to do with him. As long as the Watsons
and the Lorrimers are apart, there will be no very violent
volcanic convulsion."

" It's too much like walking among eggs all the same. Let
me take down one or two notes, and then I need not tres-
pass longer on your good nature."

Gcr>eral Farquharson could not, however, even in note-

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James Hepburn.

353

taking, shake off that military exactness and precision which
Mrs. Munro had affirmed her conviction ruled even the
arrangement of his nightcap. Tlie business took a long time,
and when it was concluded, under the guidance cf James
Hepburn's clear, sharp, incisive judgments, a perusal of the
memoranda would have been a somewhat startling revela-
tion concerning the results of different points of view, to
sundry worthy inhabitants of Mossgiel.

To the minister, the apparently unimportant interview
was in its suggestions painful and depressing in the extreme.
It brought out in strong relief those special characteristics in
General Farquharson, which were, under the circumstances,
appallingly dangerous. In every department of human
nature he seemed to be drilled to the highest attainable pitch
of automatic precision of action ; absolutely incapable of
any spontaneous uncalculated movement. That fire and pas-
sion lay beneath this outward crust of immobility Mr. Hep-
burn felt certain ; but he was equally certain that only under
very exceptional circumstances would these characteristics
ever show themselves. And if, even in one short interview,
he felt himself irritated by this automatic precision of
thought, what must be the strain of daily, hourly contact
therewith, to a young, fresh, ardent nature like that of Lady
Ellinor. And here was Sir Maurice Adair, always at hand,
to accentuate the deficiency. In all essential qualities far
inferior to General Farquharson, yet in outward seeming
immeasurably his superior, because all his attractive super-
ficial advantages had full play. It was a gloomy subject for
reflection, and depressed James Hepburn more painfully
than the darkest cloud hanging over his own head had been
able to do.

" Please come early," Lady Ellinor had written to him the
day before the gathering, " in case I should want any hint

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Janifis Hepbv/m.

from you," and obedience to the auuiiTons had given him
abundant opportunity for making observations upon her, as
she received her gueL.cs in the drawing-room before dinner.
Whatever other advantages it may or may not possess, what
is (generally known as county society is quicker to perceive,
and readier to pay respect to individual worth, than the
more jealous and fussily exclusive circle of a small burgh
aristocracy. It had come to be recognised in many houses,
where Mr. Hepburn was not personally a visitor, that the
Free Chu*'ch minister in Mossgiel was to be treated and
listened to with the deference due to a man of worth, ability,
and scholarship. He was therefore allowed to please him-
self in the drawing-room u.t Strathellon, and not subjected
to any of those worrying small attentions which might other-
wise have been inflicted upon him, under the dread of his
feeling himself neglected. Standing with his back against
the piano, ostensibly occupied in listening, and occasionally
contributing a remark to a political discussion between Sir
Maurice Adair, Mr. Ohamberlayne, and one or two other
enhusiastic politicians, he was able to watch Lady Ellinor,
in readiness to ca'uch the least manifestation of a danger
signal from her.

She M as changed unquestionably, more changed dun'rg
the period of her absence from Strathellon, than during any
previous part of their acquaintance. The subtlest essence
of her indefinable charm was gone. She w;is graceful, fascin-
ating as ever, but something of the freshness was missing.
Her gaiety had less of natural lighthearteduess, more of
excitability about it. She was not nor«r a perfectly harmoni-
ous whole. It was not merely th^v growth of that some-
thing underneath, which comes gradually with the moulding
and setting of character, as time passes, and gives a sense of
asblid basis underlying lighter qualities ; it was a suspicion

Jarries Hepburn.

355

of something underneath beir.g different from, opposed to
the superficial aspects of disposition. It was but a faintly
jarring note as yet, still it mar nid the harmony, and was an
ominous portent.

She came up to the group among which the minister was
standing, at last, and said to him :

"Am I not a pattern wife, to face all this mass of mascu-
line political ardour unassisted ? I wanted to fight off, and
let General Farquharson have a men's party altogether, but
he seemed to think my non-appearance might be miscon-
strued."

"He is quite right there," Mr. Hepburn replied. "It
would have been a fatal mistake. It would have been all
over Mossgiel to-morrow that you would not condescend to
appear."

She gave a sort of slight impatient movement. " I sup-
pose it is well to see ourselves as others see us. But why
we should be held sc> contemptibly mean, I do not see."

" Because, if that sort of feeling be contemptible mean-
ness, you are, as a body, fairly open to the charge," he
answered. " You are difi'erent, but "

She interrupted him, laughing. " But you shall tell me
the rest after dinner. I expect you to come and keep me
company in the drawing-room, while the politicians fight and
quarrel. See, dinner is announced."

Then she turned to Sir Mauric Adair. " A telegram has
just come. Lord Fitcairn cannot join us. Lord Castleton
is not quite so well to-day."

With, it seemed to Mr. Hepburn, a shade too much dis-
tant courtesy of manner. Sir Maurice Adair offered his arm ;
but it might be only prompted by a prudent rememberance
of the number of Mossgiel eyes present. As they passed
down the spacious drawing-room he could not but admit they

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356

James Hepburn.

were a perfectly matched couple. There was about him a
happy blending of polished ease and manly straightforward-
ness, which harmonised admirably with her natural grace
and refinement. More than one pair of eyes wore watching
them, with something of scp'tiny, a ngling with admiration

Tue dinner passed off wei "'. .; circa Distances were just
those in which General Farr^.. I*- ,:-<> was calculated to show
to the l)est advantage. That i; ppre~p''in of all individual
feeling, which constitutes the perfection of military discip-
line, admirably fits a man for the position in whi h he was
placed. It was his duty to keep conversation going briskly,
and so he did it, undisturbed by a certain ponderousness of
moral atmosphere which would have been perhaps too much
for a less perfectly drilled host.

James Hepburn's whole attention was concentrated in
silent vigilance. Heavy his heart might grow, but not even
a losing battle would he give up until the last faint hope
had absolutely perished. Sir Maurice Adair was cool enough
externally, there was no fault to be found with him. Lady
Ellinor was pale, but perfectly self-possessed ; but there was
just a hectic spot on each cheek, and a brightness about her
eyes, which the minister did not like ; and once, when a
sudden and unexpected glance from her in his direction sur-
prised him looking with a shade of anxious sadness at her,
he saw she flushed quickly ; but there was no trace of resent-
ment in her expression.

She stayed but a few moments after the servants had dis-
appeared, and as she passed Mr. Hepburn she said, with a
smile —

" Remember that I expect you soon. It is not requireki
of ministers that they ''mmolate themselves on the altar of
party feeling ; and I have sundry questions to ask you about
all sorts of things."

■<»Wteq,

James Hepburn.

357

The minister was not very long in obeying her summons,
receiving a nod and smile from General Farquharson as he
rose to leave the table, and a murmur of " happy man '* from
Mr. Laing. He was like most big men, a quiet mover, and
the door of the ante-room closed noiselessly. He crossed the
room and parted the heavy cuvtains which hung over the
entrance to the drawing-room, without Lady Ellinor being
aware of his approach. For one brief moment he pailsed
and looked at her. She was sitting sideways on an ottoman
very much as if she had dropped upon it, half unconsciously,
in passing, and with her hands clasped closely together, was
gazing with unseeing eyes into the fire. Her face wat^ turned
towards him as he stood between the curtains. She was
pale enough then, and her brow was a little contracted,
while in her eyes there was a look which he felt it hard to
define. It was anxious, troubled, but it would have needed
very little to make it fierce, despairing.

For only one moment did he act the innocent spy. Then
he advanced into the room. She looked up, and rising with
an air of relief, seated herself in an easy chair.

" How good of you to come so soon," she said, with her
bright smile. "One soon tires of one's own company.
How long it seems since we went away last year."

" But you have passed the year pleasantly."

" Yes. I think so. I like yachting ; and it was very
pleasant at Cannes. Only I was really so sorry for poor
dear Stuart."

" General Farquharson does not seem to hold himself a
fitting object of commiseration."

** General Farquharson, my dear Mr. Hepburn, is a man

who is invariably rigidly determined to do right, regardless

bf all side issues. Unhappily he has conceived the idea that

it is right for him to sacrifice himself to the whims and

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358

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Jamea Hepburn.

caprices of a silly discontented woman, and he persistently
sacrifices himself unrepinii gly. But I know quite well that
all through the winter he sighed inwardly at every glimpse
of a gun, and groaned in spirit at every sight of a horse
which possessed the least resemblance to a hunter. I am
nat so utterly selfish that the edge of my enjoyment was not
dulled by my perception of the truth."

" I do not believe that it was the truth. The pleasures
of sport would weigh very little with General Farquharson
against the pleasure of seeing you happy."

"That is just it. Sacrifice on one side or the other. It
is an unfortunate thing when the enjoyments of husband
and wife happen to be at opposite ends of a see-saw, so that
when one is up the other is forced to be down."

He did not reply. He did not like the tone ; there was
something hard, almost cynical, in it. She glanced quickly
at him, and then her face suddenly grew soft and wistful.

" I am talking idle nonsense," she said, " and losing my
chance of saying what I really wish to say. It has been a
strange year for you, Mr. Hepburn. How much you have
gone through."

" It is happily past now. It was sharp at the time."

" And mainly brought upon you by me," she said, in a
low tone. " I do not care to speak on that subject ; but I
could not let it all pass without telling you how constantly
I remember that fact with bitter self-reproach. To think
that my folly should have necessitated your noble silence,
and that poor fellow's noble speech."

A sob choked her utterance.

" Robert Blackwood once told me he would willingly \ky
down his life for you, Lady EUinor."

" For me ? Why, 1 never spoke to him. I hardly knew
him by sight."

James Hepburn,

.869

" He spoke truly none the less I know Ho would have
died for you as willingly as I would have borne a life-long
stigma for your sake. Lady EUinor Farquharson, by all
that is sacred, I implore you to guard all that renders you
the object of such perfectly pure, unselfish devotion."

" Oh, hush ! hush ! Do not speak to me in that way,"
she said, in an agitated tone— "at least, not now." Then
she hastily rose, and walked toward the piano, saying, " I
think the .song is here. I will show you. I cannot think
the translatioji oven tolerable."

As she stood turning over the songs, coffee was brou*»ht
in, Mr. Hepburn declined. " No, none for me, Hammond
she said, without turning round, and the servants retired.

" Forgive me," the minister said, as she returned to her
seat. " I am a clumsy brute. I ought not to have risked
agitating you now. But the words would come."

" No more, no more," fihe said hurriedly, " I am not
worthy that you should give me a thought. But tell me
about Blackwood. Do you know where he is, or what he
is doing ? "

" / do not. Sir Maurice Adair does."

" I thought as much. He tried to evade the question
when I asked him, but I was sure he knew more than he
would allow. "Why would he not tell you ? "

Mr. Hepburn told her what had passed. Lady Ellinor
shook her head.

" That may be true to some extent, but I am sure it is
not the whole truth. I am convinced Sir Maurice has helped
Blackwood in some way which he is sure you would disap-
prove. Do you think he is anywhere in this neighbour-
hood?"

" I think not. I hope not. He will almost certainly be
retaken if he is."

1£ V

360

JameH Hephum.

" Perhaps the accident has really marked his face so much
that he thinliH he may escape detection. At any rate, I
have a strong suHpicion he is somewhere not very far of!'.
Then? come the? arch'nt patriots," she added, as voices were
heard in the hall. " And they might spare themselves
their labours, F l)elieve. I saw Ijady Mary Stanhope yes
tenlay. She says the doctors tell her they think it very
likely Lord (^astleton will linger for many months yet
She and Mr. Stanhope are going hack to England at once.
Well, Mr. Laing," she said, as he appeared at the moment,
" have you nominated and returned Mr. Charaberlayne all
in one fell swoop 1 "

"Oh, far more than that. We have appointed him
Prime Minister, and sketched out the plan of a brand new
constitution, with e-il the latest improvements."

The rest of the party came straggling in, and then, after
a time, when a moment came in which he could speak un-
observed, Mr. Hepburn said to Lady Ellinor : —

" I think I may go home, may I not 1 You can run alone
now."

She turned a half-pleading look upon him. " No, do not
go yet. You are surely not so desperately attached to early
hours ? Stay till the outside party are gone. Then the
others will go and smoke, and you can give me the end of
that interrupted social lecture. I am really curious to hear
what you were going to say. There is a move now. When
one goes, all the rest will soon follow."

It was even so. In another ten minutes James Hepburn
was the only visitor, not staying in the house, who was left
in the drawing-room. '

" Now, away to your burnt offerings, all ye idolators,"
said Lady Ellinor. " Mr. Hepburn is going to instruct me,
meantime, in the lirst principles of democracy."

Jamea Hepburn.

301

Q run alone

" Under the seal of the confessional ? " asked Mr. Chain-
berlayne, laughing. "It looks serious, (Jenoral. Mr. Hep-
burn, you will get into trouble with your Presbytery."

*' If Mr. Hepburn can make an ardent radical of Lady
Ellinor Farquharson," said Sir Maurice Adair, '* I 8usp«!ct
his Presbytery will not be very particular as to the means."

The remark was ostensibly jesting, but there was a half-
suppressed insolence in liis tone, very unlike the speaker's
usual frank courtesy. Mr. Hepburn, looking up in some
surprise, caught the expression of his face, and a perception
of the purpose for which he had been detained flashed across
his mind. In a few moments he was alone with Lady
Ellinor.

" Now, tell me, what was the end of that sentence which
dinner interrupted ? " she said.

** I meant to say, that though you are personally different,
your class, as a class, treat the middle classes in a way that
fully justifies their regarding your advances with suspicion."

" And, as a class, what other treatment do they merit,
Mr. Hepburn 1 " she answered. " Let them show that they
respect themselves, and then we shall respect them. If you
wish to see a man fawn and cringe in the most servile way
before individual instances of rank and position, take the
most violent intemperate radical yo:i know. His boasted
love of equality is nothing more than base mean envy of
advantages he does not possess. Give him wealth and a
coronet, and see how much longer his heart will bleed over
his down- trodden brethren. But to take a less glaring in-
stance. What, for example, do your Mossgiel people, who
are so full of personal deference frnd civility to me, say of
me behind my back ? "

" All beautiful women have enemies, Lady Ellinor," he
said, gravely. " But I have told you what one inhabitant

IV.,

362

James Hepbu/m.

he >.

of Mossgiel said about you, and he averred that there were
many others of the same mind. I thinlc he knew what he
was saying."

*• You a,re fencing," she said.

" 1 adn.^i it. It will do you no good to reflect upon
meannesses which are confined to no one class. But I think
it is good for you to bear in mind that many erring sinful
souls worship you as a sort of ideal of beauty, purity, and
goodness, such as does not often shine across the gloom of
their earthly paths. But, now, I am going. I am not
needed any longer. And it will be as well."

She was sitting on a low chair, and had buried her face
in her hands as he spoke. She did not move or speak as he
rose. Urged by an irresistible impulse, he gently laid both
hands upon the bowed head, and in a low voice, tremulous
with deep feeling, murmured a blessing. Then, without a
word, he left the room.

As he opened the ante-room door, a bell rang, and a
distant murmur of voices became audible. Before he could
close the door, Lady EUinor came hastily through the cur-
tains at the opposite entrance.

'* They are breaking up," she said, in a voice still elightly
agitated. " I am going to my dressing-room." Good night,
my best, my truest friend."

' She hastily pressed his hand, and passed on across the
hall. As the minister was putting on his coat, he witnessed
simultaneously the last sweep of Lady Ellinor's train at the
turn of the staircase, and the appearance of Sir Maurice
Adair at the entrance of the passage leading to the smoking-
room. \

James Hepburn.

363

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A RESOLUTION.

THE summer advanced ; but although it was observed
that Mr. Hepburn went often to Strathellon, the
voice of alarmed morality was but sparingly lifted up in
Mossgiel. Scandal about James Hepburn had not been
altogether successful, and was connected in a great many
minds with irritating remembrances. It seemed disposed
where he was concerned, to decline being gently led in the
paths of pleasurable excitement, and to be inclined instead
to career madly away with head-strong determination, drag-
ging those who would fain have guided it, with much
damage and loss of dignity by the way, into thorny and
perilous places. Under these circumstances, the duty of
abstention from evil speaking is apt to assume larger di-
mensions and more definiteness of outline than are generally
allowed to it.

From these visits the minister gained little beyond a
steadily-increasing conviction that a crisis could not be very
far distant. What were the exact grounds of that convic-
tion he would have been puzzled to say ; but none the less,
there it was. Sir Maurice Adah* was sometimes at Strath-
ellon, but not very often, and quite as frequently when Mr.
Hepburn was there by invitation as when he arrived unex-
pectedly. Nor could anyone have taken exception to his
manner towards Lady Ellinor Farquharson. This fact was,
in truth, one of the many small items which went to make
up the sum of the minister's anxiety. Sir Maurice was too

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364

Jamea^Hephum.

llr^

gravely and courteously respectful ; there was none of his
old frank, light-hearted manifestation of all-absorbing
devotion. A man tioes not carelessly give the rein, even for a
moment, to a fiery steed on the watch for a chance to break
away from him. That was Mr. Hepburn's reading of the
change in this respect.

Lady Ellinor, too, was changed — changed and changing —
above all in her manner to himself. He had^ not lost one
particle of her regard, he was very certain on that point ;
but she always kept on the surface of things, never giving
him a chance to introduce any save the most ordinary topics
of conversation. No pleading, warning words, such as he
had spoken on the night of the political dinner party, would
have been possible, without his forcing them in with ill-
judged abruptness. She was always pleasant, cordial, and
friendly, but ever more and more, notwithstanding, com-
pelling him to stand aloof, as far as all confidential inter-
course went.

But the change which seemed to him the most ominous of
all was in General Farquharson himself. He certainly grew
graver and more silent — nometiraes even a trifle absent in
manner ; and Mr. Hepburn thought he could detect a slight
alteration in his demeanor to Lady Ellinor. There was the
old gentle, slightly formal courtesy, but just tinged with a
something bordering on a faint shade of resentment.

All these symptoms the minister observed, and he thought
that he observed also a gradual increase in them. It must
be allowed that all through the summer the sheep of his own
especial fold had a much smaller share of his thoughts be-
stowed upon them than these outsiders, with whom he had
no special concern. These sheep were also watching what
went on at Strathellon, and making their own comments.

" Lady Ellinor Farquharson seems to have grown much

•i .

Jainea Hepburn.

365

more cautious and discreet," Mrs. Haigg affirmed,
do not see the sort of things we used to see."

" Well, I am sure she has had a lesson," replied Mrs.
Watson, who since Mr. Lorrimer had dined at Strathellon,
and Mr. Watson had not, seemed rather more disposed to be
severe on Lady EUinor. " It is a good thing if she has the
sense to profit by it."

" How ? What lesson ? " demanded several voices. Had
some grave scandal escaped their notice ?

" Oh, I don't mean personally. But she has had a good
warning, in the fate of her favourite Mr. Hepburn, of the
disastrous consequences which may follow upon slight
indiscretion."

" Perhaps she has had a more stringent warning than
that," put in Miss Muir. " That her conduct now is much
more suitable to her circumstances and position, I do not
suppose anyone will dispute. But as to why it is so, that is
quite another thing. It is very well to talk about her hav-
ing her own way ; but for my part, I should say General
Farquharson is not a man to be trifled with beyond a cer-
tain point. She may have had a sharper lesson than we
think. They went away very suddenly last year."

" Yes, I think you are very likely in the right," said Mrs.
Campbell. " I don't suppose he cares enough about her to
mind what she does, so long as she does not do anything
actually discreditable. But when it comes to such a ques-
tion as that, I should think he would be as hard as iron."

" Dear me," exclaimed Mrs. Lorrimer, who rather enjoyed
exploding small s:hells, " what shall we do for scandal if
Lady Ellinor Farquharson turns sober and serious? Mr.
Hepburn is quite played out. Mrs. Campbell, you or Mrs.
Wylie, being the youngest wives among us, must really do
something awful, or we shall have nothing to talk aU, :t."

.31
4

366

James Hepburn.

iLo

5fe

" Perhaps you elder wives might get your husbands to do
something awful," replied Mrs. Campbell, sharply. " That
might do as well."

" If you promise to elope with Mr. Lorrimer, my dear,
I'll throw all my influence into the scale."

Mrs. Campbell gave her head an angry toss, and some one
else changed the subject.

And at that very moment, while Lady Ellinor Farquhar-
son was being commended by the virtuous matrons of Moss-
giel among the tea cups in Mrs. Campbell's drawing-room,
she and Sir Maurice Adair were standing together almost
on the very spot where, more than a year previously, James
Hepburn had intercepted her perilous cou:'sc ; and Sir
Maurice was talking in low earnest tones, while Lady
Ellinor listened in evident agitation. And when they
shortly after parted, he pressed a passionate kiss upon the
hand she gave him.

A few weeks later, Mr. Laing came strolling in one even
ing to the manps, and after some desultory 'emarks, he said- -

" What is up at Strathellon, Hepburn 'I '

The question was a startling re, but fcke inister
answered composedly enough.

" Nothing that I know of. Why ? "

" You are not well posted up in intelligence, then. The
place is to let for a term of years."

"Strathellon let? What nonsense are you talking,
Laing 1 "

" No non'sense at all. I heard it yesterday from Mr.
ChamVf'x''avno, to whom it has come round in rather a cur-
ious way whi\>t;g.i a London agent. Chamberlayne is greatly
taker, aback, and asked me if you knew anything about it.
He s^lfl ht .:hjuJiJ say nothing aVuut it in the county, until
he hearc' !?c. ?ie(l(iu moic;."

^ 1

i i

James Hephiim.

367

)me one

: iinister

" I do not believe it."

" I think there is something in it. How long is it since
you have been there 'f "

" Abont ten days."

" I shall not be gurprised if you hear abont it the next
time you are there. Chamberlayne hopes it is true."

"Why?"

" Well, he is a good-hearted man, and he is very anxious
about her. He says it is as clear as daylight that Adair has
fairly lost his head. The whole county knows that, with the
one exception, I suppose, of General Farquharson ; but they
all give her credit, as yet, for holding her own gallantly. Still,
?t is dangerous work. He must be a terribly attractive
/ligure against the background of that formal old discipli-
narian.

The minister gave a deep sigh. " Yes," he said, " it is not
a desirable state of afi'airs. I think Mr. Chamberlayne
is quite right. If General Farquharson is meditating some
change which will give her more society and occupation,
I shall be very glad to hear he thinks of leaving Strath-
ellon."

It was not very long ere more certain information reached
Mr. Hepburn. A pastoral visit to one of the retainer's
cottages, took him into the Strath ellon grounds, and as he
was returning by a path through the woods, he came sud-
denly upon General Farquharson himself, sitting on a rustic
bench, commanding a fine view over the surrounding country.
He seemed to be deep in thought, and there was a sort of
stern sadness ofi his face, which was certainly somewhat
aged and worn. He turned at the sound of approaching
footsteps.

" Ah, Mr. Hepburn," he said, " taking a stroll this fine
afternoon ? "

368

James Hephv/m.

■•ij

" And trespassing horribly 1 No, I have been visiting the
wife of one of your gardeners."

" Mrs. Eraser 1 Ah, I heard she was ill I hope she is
better."

General Farquharson spoke in an absent tone, as though
he was paying very little heed to his own words, and without
waiting for any answer he added —

" Are you in a hurry 1 "

" Not at all."

" Then sit down. I should like to talk to you."

James Hepburn obeyed, but for a few moments General
Farquht' rson said nothing. Leaning forward, with his elbows
resting on his knees, he seemed absorbed in tracing patterns
on the path with the end of the walking-stick he cp'-ried.
At length he said —

"J have come to a rather momentous resolution since I
have seen you, Mr. Hephurn. None other than to leave
Strathellon entirely, and to let the place."

" I suppose I can divine your reason," the minister said.

" Yes, I think so. But I confess it is a leap in the dark.
To try to do the best I can, *vith no light to guide me, is
unfortunately my doom now. Of course, I have come to this
decision solely on Lady EUinor's account."

" And 1 am sure you have done wisely."

'' I trust it may be so. It is a step I cannot take without
the deepest regret, and it has cost me much anxious thought.
I have always held very decided opinions about non-resident
landed proprietors. I only hope it may not prove that I
have made what is really a great, sacrifice on my part in
vain. But, unfortunately, I am not in my wife's confidence.'

" Do not allow that feeling to gain possession of you, Gen-
eral Farquharson."

" I have, unfortunately, no alternative. It is forced upon

James Hepburn.

369

nie. Do not for a moment think I feel any resentment. It
causes me pain, I admit, and bitter disappointment, to find
that, in spite of all my efforts., I liave, in some way, failed to
make Lady Ellinor h^ppy. G(k1 knows I have had no other
thought since our marriage, and I have not the least idea
how I have failed. 1 can only lay it to incompatibility of
age. Do not think that I blame her. 81ie possesses, I think,
every quality which can make a woman charming and lov-
able, and I am beginning to reproach myself bitterly for
having so ill-judgingly bound her by a tie, which it is im-
possible to undo, to an uncongenial life. I fear my admira-
tion for her when we first met blinded me to the truth in
a way fatal to her happiness."

James Hepburn was gnawing his lip for very pain.

" Have you told her what you feel and urged her to con
fide in you 1 "

" Lately, I have. The thought suddenly occurred to me
that she might possibly be distressing herself with the idea
that I might be disappointed at her having ao family. The
truth being that nothing would cause me more anxiety than
any such prospect. Lady Ellinor was prematurely confined
within a year after our marriage, and was so alarmingly ill,
that the repetition of anything of the sort would be almost
insupportable to me. She was very much agitated when I
spoke to her, assured me that no such fear had ever crossed
her mind, and only implored me not to trouble myself about
her. I begged her to give me her full confidence, and
let me have the chance of doing anything which would
make her happier ; but she denied, as she always does, that
I could do anything more than I am doing ; and accused
herself, as she has done before, of being a capricious, discon-
tented woman, spoilt by over-much indulgence. The fact of
her accusing herself of such defects is the very thing which

870

James Hepbv/m.

\Q0'

makes roe feel I have not her confidence. It is such an ab-
surd charge, in her case, that I know there must be some
thing behind, which she does not choose to confide to me.
It pains me much to think so, but I will not press her fur-
ther."

" Does she know of your determination ? "

"Yes; I "^^Id her. But she expressed no opinion. I
observed that she turned very' white, but she only said she
was quite ready to do as I wished. That was not, as you
may imagine, a very satisfactory way of putting it, when I
am acting against my own decided wishes, in hopes of bene-
fit to her ; but, of course, I said nothing."

" I am certain you have decided wisely," said the minister.

" I am glad to hoar you say so. I had had a thought in
my mind ." He paused for a moment, and then con-
tinued, " Mr. Hepburn, if anyone could aid me in this
matter it would be yourself. I will not pretend that it is
pleasant to me, as a husband, to invite any man to come
between my wife and myself ; but I hope I should never
let any personal feeluig interfere, for a moment, with any
chance of promoting Lady Ellinor's happiness. Will you
talk to her, and see if you can learn anything which might
guide me ? I can face the thought better in your case, than
that of any other man on earth."

" No, most emphatically, I will do nothing of the kind."
Most sharp and decisive was the tone. Then he added,
more calmly, "Forgive me for speaking so vehemently,
General Farquharsori, ancl believe me I am deeply sensible
of the noble confidence you repose in me. But such inter-
ference can never be good. The relationship of husband and
wife is too sacred for any such interposition. None the less
have I, for long, watched Lady EUinor closely, and carefully
weighed those unguarded expressions which often drop in

Jannee Hepburn.

371

the course of friendly intercourse ; and without a moment's
doubt I say you are doing well and wisely. Remove Lady
EUinor to scenes where she will have more society, more
variety, and be not weary in well-doing. It may be the
disparity in years is telling heavily just now ; but middle
life comes earlier to women than to men. Every year, now,
will virtually lessen that difference, and if you have only
patience to persevere, you may chance to reap a very rich
reward. Perfect harmony may in time grow up between
you, and then, rest assured. Lady Ellinor will never forget
the chivalrous forbearance of your conduct to her now.
But, above all things, keep her entirely away from here."

General Farquharson rose with certainly a brightened
countenance. " You greatly cheer and encourage me, Mr.
Hepburn. These are subjects on which it is so rare that
one can speak to anyone, and it is very true that outsiders
often see most of the game. Come down to the house and
dine with us this evening. That, at least, is a pleasure
which neither Lady Ellinor nor myself will willingly forego
until the last moment."

Somewhat reluctantly Mr. Hepburn acquiesced, and they
walked slowly on together towards the house. " Have you
fixed the time for your departure yet ? " the minister asked.

'' Not absolutely. It must depend on circumstances. I
am anxious to secure a really good tenant. If I cannot live
here myself, the best thing I can do is to leave a good ten-
ant in possesssion so that as little loss as possible may result
to the neighbourhood. I hope I may accomplish that object
shortly. Then we purpose paying a few visits, after which
I think we shall perhaps go to Italy for the winter. All
that is, however, rather in the clouds at present."

" Is Lady Ellinor in ? " General Farquharson asked, as
they entered the house.

372

Jamea Hepburn.

pi'

" Her ladyship came in about half-an-hour since, sir.
She desired ine to say you would iind tea in her boudoir."

" Whither I will venture to take you, Mr. Hepburn,"
General Farrjuharson said ; and together they ascended the
broad staircase.

*' Are you there, Ellinor ? " he said, as they entered the
empty room. " I have brought Mr. Hepburn. He will
dine with us."

" I am coming," she replied, from beyond a doorway hung
with heavy curtains ; and in another moment she appeared
from between them, wearing a simple tea gown, and with
her lovely hair drawn off her face, tied back with a piece
of velvet, and streaming loose behind.

'' I am not an escaped Bedlamite, Mr. Hepburn," she
said ; " but Alison has been performing some mystic rite
upon my hair, and I am ordered to let it hang loose until I
dress for dinner."

She greeted him cordially, and then turned to the tea
table, and began to pour out tea. It was an inexpressibly
lovely picture ; the pale, certainly, but still beautiful face ;
the perfect figure, set off by the graceful folds of the sim-
ple dress ; and the masses of waving hair, streaming down
far below her waist. The minister involuntarily glanced at
General Farquharson, and could have groaned. His eyes
were fixed upon his wife. If he would but let the feelings
which inspired the passionate admiration, the wistful sad-
ness of that look, have free play, he might defy a dozen Sir
Maurice Adairs.

" I have been telling Mr. Hepburn our plans," he said,
as she turned towards him, offering him a cup of tea. ^

A faint flush rose to her face. " I hope you have secured
clerical approval," she said quietly.

Yes, indeed. Lady Ellinor," the minister said. " Sorry

((

.'. :V I-

James Hepburn.

873

as I shall be for some reasons, I think General Farquharson
is acting very wisely."

She made no immediate reply. Then, after a moment's
silence, she asked him how he had found Mrs. Eraser that
afternoon ?

It was not until he went to the drawing-room before
dinner, and found her there alone that she spok^ again on
the subject. She was standing at a small table, arranging
some wild flowers in a vase, when he joined her.

*' So you are very glad to get rid of a black sheep," she
said.

'• I never said so."

" No, you only implied it."

" I simply said the determination was a wise one, Lady
Ellinor."

A strange look passed over her face. Then she said
slowly,

" Yes — I think it is that — in any case."

" You will not regret leaving Strathellon 1"

" I ? Oh no. I shall be glad. I daresay I shall never see
it again."

" On the contrary, I look forward, confidently, to your
return in time to lead a very happy life here."

" No. Fate will be kinder to my husband, I hope, and
relieve him of an incubus. Then he will return some day,
and be very happy, with a really good wife."

She spoke with the utmost tranquility ; but General Far-
quharson's entrance at the moment prevented any reply.

She did not again directly allude to their intended depar-
ture, but the minister watched her narrowly, and was a
little puzzled. There was a strange sort of calmness about
her. The old playful gaiety, the later touch of excitability,
had alike given place to a kind of stillness. Surely, he
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374

James Hepburn.

thought, it wa4s a hopeful sign. Did it not portend that in
General Farquharson's resolution she had found a peaceful
solution of her difficulties ? A speedy end to feverish strug-
gles, rapid alt<emation of excitement, self-reproach, and
depression ? A cutting of a gordian knot, the untying of
which had been too much for her unaided strength ?

However that might be, he felt convinced the one step
was taken which afforded the best chance of saving her.
Once removed from her present peril, and he honestly hoped
the future he had sketched for General Farquharson might
be realized. As he walked home that night, his heart was
lighter than it had been for a considerable time.

■■,*■

III

1 >

James Hephum.

375

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE BEGINNING OF A MOMENTOUS DAY.

IT very soon got wind in Mossgiel that the establishment
at Strathellon was to be broken up, and the place let for
a term of years. What an extraordinary freak ! Mossgiel said .
If General Farquharson had taken such a step two years
earlier, when I^ady Ellinor was making herself so undesir-
ably conspicuous, there would have been some sense in it.
But to stay on when it would have been so much better to
go, and to go when all reason against staying was taken
away, seemed to be a most unaccountable manifestation of
mere caprice on the part of such a self-co^itrolled man as
General Farquharson had the credit of being.

Of any definite arrangements Mr. Hepburn heard noth
ing. He chanced one day to meet General Farquharson on
horseback, and could not but perceive that the stem sadness
on his face had deepened in intensity, as he stopped to speak
to him.

" I had thought by this time to be able to tell you that
all arrangements were definitely concluded," General Far-
quharson said ; " but I have been disappointed. What I
hoped would prove a very successful negotiation has broken
down, and for the present I am quite at sea again."

" I am sorry to hear that. If you are to go, I think the
sooner the better."

" I shall not let any such obstacles detain us long," he
answered. "If I do not succeed 'in making satisfactory
arrangements in the course of a few weeks, I shall leave the
placei and trust to settling something afterwards." .

376

JaTTvea Hephv/m.

ll-i

^'■:

U . ■

i, •

,iii ^ . .

^ ■ ■ /'-

Mil

^ )

It was about a week after this meeting that one evening
the latest post brought James Hepburn a letter in a totally
unknown hand. It bore no address, but was dated that
morning, and carried the post-mark of the county town. It
began abruptly —

" Lady Ellinor Farquharson has promised to run away
with Sir Maurice Adair. They are oflf to-morrow. She will
go out early on some pretext. A hired carriage will meet
her at Braefoot Bridge, and take her to Kelvin Station. She
will join Sir Maurice there, and go on by the one o'clock
train. The carriage is to meet her at twelve o'clock."

There was no signature. Nothing which could afford the
faintest clue to the authorship of the letter. The dead calm-
ness of intense excitement settled down upon the minister.
He looked at his watch. He had been out during the even-
ing, and had found the letter on his return. It was already
past nine o'clock. On the strength of an anonymous com-
munication, which might prove a hoax, he dared not take
other than very cautious action. Whatever his own feel-
ings and opinions might be, as a matter of fact, if the asser-
tion were without foundation, action grounded on the letter
would involve a great insult to Lady Ellinor Farquharson.
Whatever course he took, it must be one useful if required,
harmless if he was being deceived for any purpose. This
necessity precluded all thought of going to Strathellon at
once, the idea which had first occurred to him. How was
he to account to either General or Lady Ellinor Farquhar-
son for an unexpected appearance towards eleven o'clock at
night ?

Then, with the letter in his hand, he took to calculations.
Braefoot Bridge was some seven miles distant from Moss-
giel, about two miles and a half from Strathellon. The drive
from thence to Kelvin, a very quiet station, was about seven

James Hepburn.

377

miles. Lady Ellinor was a good walkor, and would natur-
ally avoid having to linger about. If it was really true that
she meditated this terrible step, she would not be likely to
leave Strathellon before eleven o'clock at the earliest. It
would take him less than two hours to reach Braefoot Bridge
himself. By soon after ten o'clook he would be there, and
walk from thence to Strathellon by the road which she must
follow. If she started earlier than he expected, he could
not fail to meet her ; and he would more probably reach
Strathellon before she set out. Supposing he then found he
had been the victim of a hoax, he could easily find an excuse
for the visit, and no harm would be done.

He was curiously cool and collected. It was almost a
relief to him to feel that the period of anxious suspense and
uncertainty had come to an end — that the time for vigorous
action was come. Had he had time to analyse his own
sensations, he might have learned by that very sense of re-
lief how certain had been his inward conviction that the
hour for action would come sooner or later. It did strike
him as curious, even then, how little he seemed to regard
the catastrophe as a final one ; how almost instinctively he
was treating it as the remediable end of a bad business,
rather than as the irremediable beginning of a much worse

one.

He was early astir the next morning, and was on the
road soon after eight o'clock. Fortunately it was no un-
usual thing for him to be early abroad ; so the fact was
not likely to attract any special observation. It was just
ten o'clock when he reached Braefoot Bridge, and turned
along the lonely country road, running mostly through
woods, in the direction of Strathellon. He had not now
the faintest doubt that he must either intercept Lady
Ellinor, or find her still at Strathellon. Without a rough

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378

James Hepburn.

Rii.^

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scramble through the w^oods, which she would certainly not
face on such an occasion as the present, it was impossible
for her to reach the bridge save along the road he was fol-
lowing. He had ample time to walk leisurely, and meditate
on the next step in the drama should he find her still at
home. That was a point less easily decided, in that it must
depend on circumstances he could not foresee, especially on
the sort of reception he encountered.

He turned in at the lodge gates without having seen a
single soul, and walked leisurely up towards the house,
mindful to avoid the least appearance of any unusual haste..
Near the house there grew, close by the drive, a thick
shrubbery of evergreens, through which ran a path leading
to the servants' department. As Mr. tJopburn came up, a
figure, strnding a few feet off, on this pathway, caught his
eye. A second glance showed it to be Lady Ellinor's faith-
ful maid, Alison, with a pale, tear-stained faco, and every
mark about her of deep distress. She beckoned the minis-
ter towards her.

With a dread foreboding of impending evil, he obeyed
her summons.

" What is the matter, Mrs. Alison ? " he asked.

" Oh, Mr. Hepburn, my dear lady ! I fear all is over I "

" All over ? What do you mean ? "

" I fear she's away^ sir, and will never come back."

Could this be the writer of the letter? The thought
instantly flashed through his mind. But the next words
dispelled it.

" I saw you coming up the road, so I made bold to stop
you. I was just thinking whether I would start for the
manse."

" But what has happened 1 "

" My lady is gone out, sir, and I doubt she'll never come
back."

le mmis-

Jamea Hephiim.

379

er come

"Gone I Where t"

"I don't know, sir."

" But in which direction ? "

" Away through the wood, sir. By the path which leads
to the footbridge over the river."

In exactly the opposite direction to that from which he
had come.

" How long has she been gone ) "

" Near on an hour, sir. She went out just as the clocks
were striking ten."

A host of possibilities flashed through his mind, but it
was no time to consider them. The one terrible fact clear
was, that pursuit was useless. Whether he had been wil-
fully or accidentally deceived, that much was certain. She
had nearly an hour's start, and he had no certainty, beyond
the first half mile, in what direction she might have gone.
The best thing he could do was to try and gain information.
More by impulse than for any distinct reason, he deter-
mined to give no hint of the warning he had received.

" But is that such an extraordinary thing as to lead you
to such a suspicion ? " he asked.

" Oh no, sir ! My lady is very independent. She often
goes out alone on foot. It isn't that. Everything is so
strange now. Things have been going very wrong, sir."

" So I feared." Then he put the question boldly, " Do
you think she has gone with Sir Maurice Adair 1 "

"I'm afraid so, sir."

" Has he been here much ? "

" No, sir ; but I am sure they have been meeting. My
poor, dear lady, she has been very unhappy I know, and I
know she has fought hard against doing wrong ; but I have
felt sure for some time how it would end. She was a
changed woman from the day the General spoke about

i.'il :i

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380

James Hepburn.

going away from here. She grew so still and quiet, and was
always so pale, and she seemed to take no interest in any-
thing, and a sort of despairing look in her eyes sometimes.
All yesterday she seemed so strange, I really thought some
illness was coming. She quite frightened me once or twice.
When she went to bed, she told me she was going out early,
and that I should bring her breakfast to her dressing-room.
When I had done her hair she said I need not stay, she was
not going to bed just yet. She was up and in her dressing-
room when I went to her in the morning, and she put on a
plain walking dress, pretending to eat some breakfast ; but
it was nothing she took, and I could see her hands were
trembling all the time. As soon as she was ready she took
up a hand-bag, which I saw was standing on the table, and
went towards the door. Then she hesitated, and asked in
a sort of half-choked voice if General Farquharson was gone
down stairs yet ) I said he was still in his dressing-room.
* Oh, very well,' she said, * it does not matter. Tell him
when he goes down stairs, I am gone to meet Mrs. Tweedie.
I am going to lunch with her.' ' Is the carriage to call for
you, my lady ? ' I said, as my mind misgave me. ' The
carriage,' she repeated, in a sort of bewildered tone. ^ Then
she gave a little start, and said, < Oh no, Mrs. Tweedie will
drive me home in her pony carriage.' Then she went out,
hastily, without saying anything more, and I watched her
path. Then I began to put the room to rights. I didn't
like what I saw. Several little things had been put away,
and her dressing-case was locked — a thing I never remem-
ber. In the boudoir, too, things were different. Several
of her writing-table drawers were locked. Things weren't
left as they generally were."

" Did you tell General Farquharson 1 "

<*^Yes, sir ; and I thought he seemed surprised. But you

James Hepburn.

381

know he never shows anything. He only asked if I was
quite sure my lady did not want the carriage sent for her
in the afternoon. But, oh, Mr. Hepburn, I'm sure she isn't
gone to Mrs. Tweedie's. I'm sorely afraid she is away to
Sir Maurice."

Poor Alison's hardly restrained tears broke out afresh,
and there was little the minister could say to comfort her.
The confirmation in his possession of her worst suspicions he
was determined to suppress to the very last.

" I fear you have grounds for uneasiness," he said. " But
I do not at present see what can be done."

" Well, sir, if I might make so bold, would you go and see
if she is really with Mrs. Tweedie? If she isn't, it would
be a great thing if it could be broken gently to the poor
General. It will be a feaiful blow to him. I've come to
see, of late, he thought more of her than I fancied. I think
he'd take it best from you."

He shrank inexpressibly from the thought of undertaking
any such task. A feeling of positive guilt was creeping
over him. In the light of the terrible certainty that the
dreaded catastrophe had actually come to pass, he was in-
clined to question if his own conduct had not been inexcus-
able. Why had he not spoken more openly and distinctly
to the unsuspecting husband ? Now that the fatal climax
was reached, it was very hard to grasp the fact that but
twenty-four hours earlier the bare suggestion of it, as a
remote possibility, would have seemed a gross insult. Of
any personal shrinking, however, he was little likely to take
accbunt.

" Yes, I will do that," he said. " I will go to Mrs. Twee
die about luncheon time. I shall then easily find out the
truth. If our fears are justified I will return at once. Has
anyone in the house, besides yourself, any suspicion 1 "

882

Jcmves Hapbum.

IV. '.

" Not the least, I think, sir. I doubt if any of the others
even know she is gone out."

" That is well, Oo and bathe your face, and try and look
as unconcerned as you can."

With that they parted. And so it was over. Love had
not saved. No, it was not over. For him it was only be-
ginning, and love should save yet. He almost set his teeth
upon that ; with that sort of energy of determination which,
in a strong nature, is roused by desperate circumstances,
which paralyze or bewilder the weak. He was an indepen-
dent man and alone in the world. Many things were pos-
sible to him, which would not be possible to most men. Had
he not accepted the commission of watching over Lady Elli-
nor Farquharson, when Mrs. Munro had so solemnly urged
it upon him ? Had that commission been to watch over
her when she was comparatively safe, and throw up the tas^
when the need was sorest ? His whole spirit seemed to rise
to meet the necessity, now it was something tangible which
could be grappled.

Outside the lodge gates he paused to consider. It was
only half-past eleven. Two o'clock, the luncheon hour,
would be the time for him to seek Mrs. Tweedie. She might
chance to be out at the moment, a contingency which would
leave him still in doubt, for that instinctive desire to keep
everything quiet until the last moment was too strong upon
him to let him hazard the most trifling question on the sub-
ject of his search. He did not feel inclined to return to
Mossgiel, and chafe in forced inactivity for nigh on two
hours. He owed a visit to a member of the congregation,
living in rather an out-of-the-way spot. He had just about
time to pay the promised visit, and reach Mossgiel by two
o'clock. He made his way across country to his destination,
anxiously pondering the while over the problem of that
ouriously graphiq, and yet misleading letter, whose author-

J<vmu Hepburn.

388

ship waa such an insoluble mystery, paid his visit without
any manifestation of pre-occupation, and started for home
along a farm road, which opened upon the main road about
two miles from Mossgiel. He had to cross a bridge over the
railroad, on his way, and had reached the centre of it, when
he chanced to glance over the parapet to the line below.
He stopped dead, uttered a suppressed exclamation, and
stood for a moment, gazing horror stricken at the object
which had caught his eye.

A short distance beyond the bridge the railway crossed
one of these deep narrow glens, down which, so often in
Scotland, mountain burns find their way to the larger
streams. Embankments thrown out on each side met a
bridge over the deepest part of the glen. This bridge had
been formerly of wood, but latei^ an iron one had been sub-
stituted, and some of the old timbers were still lying beside
the line. Just where the embankment nearest to where
Mr. Hepburn was standing began, a rough fragment of rock
cropped up suddenly from the ground ; close beside it was a
telegraph post, With diabolical malice a long piece of
a disused beam had been fitted in between the rock and the
post, its end projecting to about the centre of the nearest
line — the line along which, even now, the train that Lady
Elinor Farquharson was to have met at Kelvin station, was
rapidly approaching. A slight curve would prevent the
obstacle being seen by the driver until the train was close
upon it. The timber could not yield, and it would catch
only one wheel of the engine. There was not the faintest
room for hope that the train would not be thrown off the
line, and hurled down into the glen below. Kelvin, its next
stopping place, was full nine months off. Even allowing
for a slight slackening of speed, to pass the curve and bridge,
the train would he running at a considerable pace.

884

JaTMs Hepbu/m,

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ii'.-. •.

fiii •

James Hepburn looked at his watch. He almost thought
he already heard the distant beat of the engine. In another
moment lie had cro|Me<l the bridge, vaulted over the railing,
dashed down the embankment, and was hurrying towards the
heavy timber. But what could he do? He did hear the
train. Could he stop it 1 Not in time, with that curve
interposing. Could he remove the obstacle ? He could not
turn it aside. Unaided he could not raise it over the pro-
jecting rock. One, and one only chance there was. Its
further end projected considerably over the embankment.
Standing, himself, full in the track of the coming train, he
might perhaps be able to push it back, until it overbalanced,
and rearing up, slide down the embankment. It was the
only chance, and his muscular strength was great. In
another moment he was between the rails, plying his utmost
strength upon the heavy timber. He 'felt it yield, but it
gave only inch by inch to his desperate efforts, and every
moment the thunder of the approaching train was sounding
louder and louder in his ears. Right in its course he was
standing, but he never even remembered that. He remem-
bered only the train rushing on with its living freight, and
that terrible rocky glen below. The beam moved with every
desperate effort. It was beginning to quiver. Another
tremendous heave or two, and it would overbalance. Round
the curve come the thundering train ; the quick, short,
shrieking whistle struck on his ears, The beam was over-
balancing now. Surely it was just clear. The end at which
he was working slowly reared up, so that he had no further
power over it. The engine was almost upon him. With a
desperate spring he cleared the line. The edge of the sway-
ing beam caught the engine just above the buffers. The
timber snapped off against the rock like a twig. The frag-
ment struck the minister with fearful force, hurling him
down the embankment, and he knew no more.

James Hephu/m.

886

When oonMioutness began to come back to him, it was
with a confused perception of voices, which seemed to be
speaking a long way off. He lay in a half stupor for a
moment, then he opened his eyes. He was lying at the foot
of the embankment on a couch formed of railway carriage
cushions, and was covered with rugs ; and could it be f —
yes, it was — the pale anxious face bending over him was that
of Lady EUinor Farquharson. Some one kneeling on the
other side had a finger on his pulsb.

" Drink a little of this," said Lady EUinor, quietly, and
she held a cup to his lips. He drank a few mouthfuls, and
looked to the other side.

"I am a doctor," said the stranger at once, " one of a
great many people who owe their lives to you. The engine
was a good deal damaged, but the driver said he thought he
could safely run on to the next siding, and wait there : so it
was judged best to clear the line. This lady told us who
you were, and volunteered to remain. Messengers have
gone to Mossgiel. Help will shortly arrive."

The clear, concise explanation brought every thing back
to him, and for a few moments he lay perfectly still ; but
the strong power of such a nature over the body was exert-
ing its empire remorselessly, and he was thinking clearly
and rapidly. All the more clearly and rapidly, for that he
was conscious his power to think at all would not last long.
He opened his eyes again, and looked at the doctor.

" You can easily reach the burn," he said. "Please bring
me a little water."

The doctor took the cup of the flask, and began to make
his way down to the water. Then he turned to Lady EUinor

" You were goinrj then ? "

" Yes." The answer was almost inaudible.

" Where is Sir Maurice ? "

K mi

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386

James Hepburn.

" Gone on with the train. It cannot get beyond Braefoot
siding. We thought it best to part now."

" Beat i ^ Yes, salvation," and a heavenly jmile for a
moment flitted over his features, already drawn and lined
with pain.

" Now you are mine," he continued. " I have bought
you — with my life, I think. Go back at once to Strathellon.
Tell your husband all — everything — all you have felt in the
past ; and tell him, from me — my dying wish perhaps — to
be a better husband than he has been in the past."

•' Oh, I cannot— I cannot," she sobbed.

" Yes, you can, and you will. You will not rob me of the
reward which will make death sweet to me, for which I
would have sacrificed a thousand lives. I think I am dying.
Let my last memory of earth be your promise to go and learn
how much your husband loves you. Tell him I said that.
My head is failing. Let me hear you promise."

" I promise."

*' Then go at once. Let me see you start, while I can
see anything.

" And leave you ? "

"Yes, go. You can do nothing. Tell him you have
undertaken an important commission for me. You can do
nothing here. Help will soon come. Go and be a true and
loving wife to the man .whose deep love for you you will
learn when you tell him all."

Reluctantly Lady Ellinor obeyed. He followed her with
his eyes, saw her meet and speak a few words to the doctor,
then turn and climb the embankment to the bridge, and
disappear in the direction of Strathellon. Again that smile
passed over his face, and with a faint murmur, " Love has
saved," he closed his eyes, and lay motionless, and again
unconscious.

li' :^'' ;.'

James Hephv/m.

387

CHAPTER XXX.

THE END OF A MOMENTOUS DAY.

¥hile I can

r WARDS three o'clock in the afternoon General Far-
quharson was seated alone in the library at Strathel-
Ion. He had declined all luncheon, beyond a cup of coffee
and a biscuit, and was deep in letters and papers of all sorts,
with a vague sense of depression and uneasiness weighing
upon him, The receipt of Lady Ellinor's message in the
morning had both surprised and pained him ; it seemed to
emphasize the fact that their relations were not what
they had been — that a sort of intangible shadow was coming
between them. There was nothing remarkable in her action,
only in the method in which it had been made known to
him. In time past she would have come herself to his dres-
sing-room and told him not only where she was going, but
what she was going to do. General Farquharson's chival-
rous courtesy would never have allowed him to interfere
with her in any way ; but there had always been affection-
ate confidence between them about all their doings.

He was busy writing when the door opened. His back
was turned towards it, and, thinking it only a servant, he
did not turn round. , The door softly closed again, and there
was a dead silence. General Farquharson glanced over his
shoulder, then sprang up from his seat with a smothered
exclamation. Was it his wife ? that pale, haggard, worn-
looking woman standing rigidly just within the door, gazing
at him with such despairing eyes ; or was it a spectre come
to warn him of some impending catastrophe 1

" Ellinor ! my darling ! what is it ? "

388

Jame% Hephwrn.

If. •■■

M
l-<i)

Never had she heard a tone of such passionate tenderness
n his voice. Was she to learn his love too late ? He
advanced hastily towards her ; but she put forward her hands
as if to repel him.

" Do not touch me, Stuart," she said, and her voice was
dull and toneless. "I am come because I promised. I
promised Mr. Hepburn, and I must not break my word.
Perhaps he is dead already."

" Hepburn dead ! Ellinor ! " and he paused and looked
keenly at her. Was it illness ? some fever affecting her
brain ?

She walked forward and stood on the hearth rug, her eyes
fixed on the flowery plants arranged in the grate.

" Yes," she said, " it may be ; he is fearfully injured. He
made me promise to tell you ail. You must listen, Stuart ;
I must not break my promise."

" Sit down, my darling," he said.

" Don't call me that," she said, sharply. " No, I would
rather stand. I don't feel so suffocated. I was running
away, Stuart, with Sir Maurice Adair. We were in the
train. Some one put something in the way. Mr. Hepburn
contrived to move it ; but he is fearfully injured. He made
me promise to come and tell you all ; and he said I was to
say you were to be a better husband than you had been. I
don't know what he meant, but he told me to say it ; and he
said I should learn, when I told you all, how much you loved
me. He said I was to tell you he said that."

Qeneral Farquharson was standing close to her. His face
had turned a sort of ashy grey colour, and seemed to wither
up at her words ; but he made no movement. He only said,
quietly —

" Do as you promised, Ellinor. Tell me everything that
you think Mr. Hepburn wished you should tell me."

James Ilephui'n.

d8d

Then he heard the whole sad story, so utterly unsuspected
by him, of his own wife's married life. No thought of self-
extenuation was iu her mind. She merely told of her dis-
appointment, her youthful longing for a more ardent love,
her growing impatience under his unvarying but formal
affectionate attention, because it wa^the truth — a part of that
all she had pledged herself to tell him. She told of her lonp,
long struggle against Sir Maurice Adair's growing influence
over her ; of his increasing infatuation ; and of the honest
belief of both, that his own sentiments towards her were
merely those of a mild affection which would not so keenly
feel her leaving him, but that the passing pain would be
more than repaid in the future by the chance thus afforded
to him of making a more congenial marriage. Then she told
him how, at last, when she and Sir Maurice found that total
separation was impending over them — the last fatal resolu-
tion had Ixten taken. She told it all with a sort of cold,
apathetic calmness — too stunned by the shock she had
received, and by hopeless despair for the future, to feel any-
thing keenly for the moment She only held steadily, in a
dull mechanical way, to'the fulfilment of the promise she had
made — a prbpiise, perhaps even already to the dead, that she
would tell her husband everything.

General Farquharson stood listening intently in unbroken
silence to the strange sad story, revealing how utterly, not-
withstanding all the close intimacy of wedded life, he and
his beautiful wife had been hitherto strangers to each other.
For it told him not alone liow wholly he had failed to read
her inner nature but how wliolly she had failed to read his.
Never probably did any man listen to a confession with a
stronger feeling that every sentence was a damning accusa-
tion against himself. How utterly — how hopelessly he had
failed to supply the needs of the bright, ardent young life he
(25)

ddo

James Bephv/tn.

|!>

:. !

had taken into his own keeping ! He had started with a
theory, and that theory he had persistently endeavoured to
carry out. When it had not accomplished all he desired, he
had still bored steadily on, charging himself with not putting
it sufficiently in practice, never thinking to ask himself
whether the failure portended something wrong in the
theory. Blind fool that ne had been, never to have seen the
truth, which, now that it was laid bare before him, seemed
as though it must have been self-evident all along ! Once
and again he quivered all over for a moment, and the veins
on his temples stood out rigid and cord-like ; but he neither
changed his position nor uttered a word until Lady Ellinor
ceased speaking. Then, after a brief silence, he said —

" What became of Sir Maurice Adair ? "

" He went on in the train. We thought it best to part.
I do not think he understands that all is over. Now, ypu
must settle everything, Stuart. I will go anywhere you like
— do anything you like. Only, for your own sake, for my
young sisters' sake, let a separation be arranged with as
little scandal as possible. Perhaps it would have been better
for you if 1 had got clear away. Th^n y u might have got
a divorce, and married a better wife. Now you icannot get
free, I fear."

He did not instantly reply. She never once looked at
him. She took off her hat, as if its weight oppressed her,
and, throwing it down on a chair, leaned her a«m on the
mantlepiece, and, resting her forehead against it, gazed still
fixedly down upon the glowing blossoms before her. Sud-
denly she felt her huslmnd's arm passed around her, while the
other hand gently drew her head on to his breast.

" Must we part, Ellinor 1 " he said, in a low tone of the
deepest tenderness. Can you not forgive me ? "

She tried to start away, but he held her firmly. Only

James Mephwm.

891

you

of the
Only

she drew back her head, and gazed up in his face with a
strange, bewildered, startled look. A faint smile came up
upon his pale face.

" You shall not escape me while these arms have strength
to hold you. My poor darling ! To think I could be so
mad, so blind ! Oh, Ellinor, EUinor, how all too thoroughly
I have deceived you ! Child, do you think all the fire and
passion of a man's nature dies out before he is fifty years
old ? I could have kissed the very ground you had trodden
on, sometimes ; but I have held it all down with rigid deter-
mination. I dreaded that you would regard any manifesta-
tions of love-like devotion as absurd in a man of my age ;
would feel yourself made ridiculous by them. To be always
quietly attentive and affectionate, to gratify all your wishes,
and leave you absolute mistress of all your actions, has been
the aim and object of my life. And thus I have wrecked
your happiness ! lost my own ! and almost "

A heavy sob choked his utterance, and a violent burst of
hysterical weeping on his wife's part finished the sentence.
There was no courteous solicitude now. He held her in a
close embrace, and pressed many a fervent kiss upon the
dishevelled golden brown head. But for a brief space he let
her sob undisturbed. Then he spoke, firmly but tenderly.

" All is well between us now, ray darling. You under-
stand, and I understand. Thank God that is all that is
necessary. Not a word more, now, about the subject. We
shall have all our future life in which to wonder over it ;
shall we not, dearest ? You must, for a short time, put a
great force on yourself, Ellinor. We hardly know, yet, how
we stand. Not a suspicion must fall on you. Tell me, dar-
ling, does anyone know or suspect what was in prospect ? "

" No one. But I think Alison was anxious. She looked
so strangely at me this morning."

ff'f''

lyl'!

892

James Hepburn.

" Very well. There is fortunately, or unfortunately, only
too good cause for your looking pale and terribly shaken.
Sit down in that arm-chair, and try to be fairly composed.
Leave the rest to me. It was to Dr. Tweedie . the messen-
gers were sent, was it not 1 "

" Yes."

" That is most fortunate." And with the words he rang
the bell. " Send Mrs. Alison here," he said.

Alison shortly appeared, and General Farquharson,
watching her closely, noted the slight start, and look of un-
told relief as her eyes fell on her lady. He spoke in his
gravest manner. , - ^

" Lady EUinor has brought dreadful intelligence, Alison/
he said. '* There has been an accident on -the railway. Mr.
^ Hepburn is seriously, perhaps fatally^ injured. A message
came for Dr. Tweedie to go at once. Lady EUinor has
walked home, and has had no luncheon. Go at once and
bring something to her boudoir. She is quite faint and ex-
hausted. She will lie down and rest for an hour, and then
drive with me into Mossgiel, to learn more particulars. I
will go upstairs with her."

Alison obeyed. " You must nerve yourself for the effort,
EUinor," he said. " I cannot afford to be indulgent to-day.
It is impossible to say what rumours may have got about.
Nothing could sr possibly refute them as our going into
Mossgiel together this afternoon. Now come away upstairs,
' and rest for an hour."

He was not markedly affectionate in manner then. It
would have been almost more than she could have borne. '
But the quiet firmness with which he sustained and encour-
aged her, was a wholly different thing from his old formal
courtesy. He insisted on her taking some nourishment, and
then, sitting quietly boside the spfa, held her hand in his

James Hepburn.

893

^ V

firm, strong grasp, soothing and calming her by the mere
force of his own powerful will.

About half-past tive that afternoon all Moss^iel was edi-
fied by the sight of General Farquharson driving Lady Elli-
nor in her pony carriage up to the manse gate. All the
town was evidently astir. Groups of people were standing
about the streets, and there was many a face not less pale
and sad than Lady EUinor's own.

Before the groom had time to ring, a bystander came for-
ward.

" They have taken*him to Dr. Tweedie's, sir,*' he sa d.

General Farquharson had no heart himself, and too much
thought for Lady EUinor, to ask any questions. They drove
on to Dr. Tweedie's house. Mrs. Tweedie herself came to
the door, and signed to them to come in.

" You have heard, then," she said, as she led the way to
the drawing-room.

Before Lady Ellinor had a chance to answer, General
Farquh^irson struck in

" Yes. Did you not know that Lady Ellinor was there ?
She went out early, and was just at the spot when the acci-
dent happened. She only left Mr. Hepburn in order to bear
a message about which he was anxious."

" Oh, was that it 1 The doctor who stayed with him said
there had been a lady there who knew Mr. Hepburn. But
he thought she was in the train."

" Naturally. But what of Hepburn ?"

Mrs. Tweedie shook her head, and had to struggle a
moment for composure to speak.

" He is fearfully injured. The left arm and shoulder got

. the full force of the blow. Biit some riba are broken also,

and Dr. Tweedie fears there are internal injuries, how

serious it is hardly possible to tell yet. Ah ! here he

comes,

894

James Hepburn.

¥ ■

'■ t

Dr. Tweedie entered at the moment. " He heard the
carriage draw up," he said, " and asked if it was you ? He
insists on seeing you for a moment before you leave."

*' Is it a hopeless case t " General Farquharson asked.

" No, I cannot say that. It is impossible to foretell.
All I can say is that if any man could pull through, he is
the man, with his pluck and splendid physique. But the
injuries are terrible. We have telegraphed for Professor
Forrester, and the company are sending Dr. Stone. But
neither can arrive until the last train to-night. Hewson
and Gumming are here now. Cumming is a first-rate sur-
geon. I believe we have done everything that can possibly
be done."

" Does he suffer much ? "
i " Terribly at first, but we have contrived to soothe that,

somewhat, and he made light of it all along. I never saw
such pluck. Now he is lying perfectly quiet, and he looks
as if he was meditating perpetually over something which
affords him the deepest satisfaction."

A half SO) from Lady EUinor interrupted him.

"It has been too much for you," Mrs. Tweedie said.
" Lady Ellinor was there," she added, turning to her hus-
band ; " not in the train, as that doctor thought. She was
passing at that moment."

" You must not let him see the least trace of agitation,"
Dr. Tweedie said. " I am almost doubtful about his seeing
anyone, as the utmost quiet is most important. But he in-
sisted so strongly, when I hesitated, I did not think it wise
to cross him."

" You are quite right," said General Farquharson. " I
will answer for Lady Ellinor's composure, and for Hepburn
being the better for seeing us. The message Lady Ellinor \
' undertook to bring me, from him, was of the greatest

•*<fei

James Hepburn.

395

importance.. I shall be able, in a single sentence, to set his
mind at rest upon a matter which has been causing him
grave anxiety."

Dr. Tweedie led the way to the room where the injured
man was lying. The great grey eyes, looking unnaturally
large and bright, were turned towards the door as they
entered, and closely scanned the two faces. Then that faint
smile, which seemed like a ray of the bliss from a far otf
world of perfect peacf» and happiness, stole over his face
again.

White ^s a piece of marble, and trembling in every limb,
but perfectly composed, Lady Ellinor walked up to the
bedside, and taking in both of hors, the hand he feebly
raised, bent down and whispered — " I did your bidding, and
gave your message."

He gently pressed her hand, and turned a questioning
look on General Farquharson.

"There was urgent need for your warning," he said,
firmly. "You have averted untold suffering, and every-
thing now is entirely as you would most earnestly wish.
But I trust it is no dying message, and that you will yet
live to rejoice in what you have done. We must not linger.
Perfect quiet is necessary for you, and entire composure is
very difficult for Ellinor's shaken nerves."

He released her hand,'and held his out to General Far-
quharson, in whose strong clasp it lay nerveless. His lips
moved, and General Farquharson, bending down, caught
the whisper — " Nunc Dimittis " — as the heavy eyelids
dropped, and he lay white and still. The doctors who had
been standing a little apart came hastily forward. " It is
nothing," Dr. Tweedie said, as he felt the pulse, " but I
think he has had enough." *

" I shall be back to-night, to hear your report, after the

396

James Hepburn.

ft . 1

rl
k

r \

other doctors have Vxinn," Oeneral Farquharsnu said, as
they left the houHe. Then he added to Lady EUinor, as he
took the reins, " We must go as far as the post office. Then
you need not be harrassed no longer."

They drove up to the door, and the groom was in the act
of posting the letters, when suddenly out of the shop came
Sir Maurice Adair. He was on the p.".vement bofore he
saw with whom he had came in contact.

Had the shock been less startling, it might have been
more serious. Lady EUinor Farquh;irson was petrified.
She could only sit mute and riyid, not oven acknowledging
Sir Maurice Adair's presence by the fiintest salutation. A
quick spasm passed over General Farquharson's face, but
hiM perfect condition of drill came to his aid. He betrayed
no other sympton, of emotion. Sir Maurice was fairly self-
possessed. He was startled, but the fact of General Far-
quharson and Lady EUinor beiiig together, prevented him
from supposing he had had any need for special caution.

General Farquharson spoke first. '* You have heard the
terrible news, I suppose," ho said.

" I have indeed. I am awfully gripved. I came here on
purpose to hear more. Is the case hopeless ? "

" I trust not. 1 cannot bear to think it ; but the injuries
are very severe."

" I was thinking of going to the house. But, perhaps, I
had bettor not."

" On the contrary, I think you should go. Such marks
of wide-spread interest cannot but be gratifying to Mr.
Hepburn. Are you returning to Dunkerran to-night ? "

"Yes. By the las: train."

" Then send your dog-cart to meet me at the station, to-
morrow, will you ? The two fifteen train. I want to have

-,v ■<-

JamM Hepburn,

897

ft little diacussion with you over business of some import-
ance."

" Certainly. Will you sleep at Dunkerran, to-raorrow
night 1"

"Thank you, no. I will trouble you to send me back to
the station to meet the next back train. Good afternoon."

He turned the ponies' head as he spoke, well satisfied to
perceive that sundry loungers had hoard the appointment
made.

Lady EUinor did not speak during the homeward drive.
She lay back- ii^ the carriage in a sort of dull stupor, the ex-
haustion resulting from the intense strain and shock of the
last ten hours. She was vaguely amazed and bewildered by
her husband's words to Sir Maurice Adair ; but it was only
a dull, confused sense of something incredible. Her mental
prostration was too great to let her clearly and fully grasp
the meaning of what had passed.

"You are quite worn out, my love," he said, with a touch
of his old formal manner, as he helped her out of the carriage,
with butler and footman standing by. " Will you let me
carry you upstairs ? "

** Oh dear, no," she said, making an effort to rally. " It
has given me a dreadful shock ; but I am not quite so bad
as that. Your arm will be enough." ^

Leaning on her husband's arm she passed slowly up the
staircase, while an eager knot of servants, clustering round
the door, sought information from the groom.

" You will not come downstairs again to-night, my darl-
ing," he said. " We will have dinner brought up to yotlr
boudoir. Then you can rest quietly, while I go back to
Mossgiel Child, how. ill you look ! "

She raised her beautiful eyes to his face, with a wonder-
ful depth of expression in them. " It will not be for long,

898

James Hepburn,

ii:'-'

i;^

■J

Stu>«rt," flhe said. " I am haviag abundance of the only
medicine that could do me any good. It will not be long
before you will see th« effect."

Something of the effect was already visible when Oeneral
Farquharson returned, after about two hours' absence.
Many thoughts had passed through her mind, as she lay
quiety reposing on her sofa — thoughts of sorrow and sad-
ness, of humiliation and bitter self-reproach. But nothing
could entirely neutralize the effect of the joyous conscious-
ness that, for the first time since her marriage, she was
listening for her husband's returning step,«with the feeling
that his presence meant for her a perfect happiness which
was wanting in his absence.

He brought on the whole a better report than they had
dared to hope for. The injuries were very serious, and for
some time at least, the results must bo doubtful. In many
oases, the doctors said, they could hardly have dared, where
the injuries were what they were, to express any hope. But
with such a constitution, and such mental fortitude and
self-control, it was difficult to say what might not be
possible.

" Dr. Tweedie said our visit did him good," General Far-
quharson said, *• that he certainly revived after it."

" Yes," she said in a low, almost solemn tone. " Mad,
wicked, I have been, but I cannot be altogether bad, or he
would not have cared so much for me. But, oh, Stuart."

" What, dearest ? No more discussions to-night, remem-
ber."

" No. But one thing. What did you mean about going
to Dunkerran ? "

" I will tell you when I come back."

" But you do not mean to — to — " \

" I do not mean to do anything that will cause you the

!-y'.-

rr ■■--*-

fy '*»

James Hepburn.

399

leact trouble or diatress. But I will not have you talk any
more now about tliu subject."

*' There is one thing 1 want to tell you, Stuart. I have
remembered it, oh, how thankfully, lying here alone. I
hardly know why it w»8, a sort of pieHentiment, I suppose ;
but I could never tolnrute the 8light<?8t familiarity. I was
hardly conscious that I was holding him aloof, but I suppose
I must have been. He never ventured to do more than kiss
my hand."

General Farquharson bent down and kissed her fervently.
Then he said gravely,

"From my very soul, Ellinor, I believe, had we been
parted, he would have made you a kind and devoted hus-
band, and been unfailing in his eflbrts to promote your hap-
piness. Did I not honestly believe that, I do not thirik I
could dare to see him."

She threw her arms round his neck. "I think I hate
him," she exclaimed. '' He is not worthy to be named in the
same breath with you."

*' You may forgive him now, dearest. It was a frightfully
narrow escape, but perhaps nothing else could have availed.
We might have gone on to the bitter end, with a great gulf
between us. The men who ordinarily make havoc of domes-
tic happiness M-ould never win the slightest influence over
you, and you would probably never have come again across
a man of Adair's character and disposition. I could almost
believe that it is because he is worthy of something better,
that his effort to do evil has been turned to good. He and
Hepburn between them have been our salvation. Now I
am goinfit to ring for Alison, and you must go to bed."

Thus that fateful day came to a close, and it seemed to
Lady Ellinor Farquharson as if years, rather than twenty-

•

'!|

¥^

';l ■

400

James Hepburn.

four hours, had passed since she had been occupied in mak-
ing her hasty, secret preparations to abandon for ever her
home, her good name, and that husband, the depth of whose
love siie had so narrowly missed learning, as James Hep-
burn had warned her she might do, amidst the keen anguish
of a life-long remorse:

Jartiea Hepburn.

401

OH AFTER XXXI.

A STRANGE CONFERENCE.

SIR MAURICE ADAIR was very far from being a
sufficieotly hardened sinner to be able to expect with
complete indifference a friendly viiit from the man he had
striven, and still purposed, to injure cruelly, albeit not the
faintest suspicion had crossed his mind of the real course of
events. General Farquharson's face had been stern and set,
and his manner more than commonly rigid, when they had
met in Mossgiel, But that, under all circumstances of the
case, had not surprised him. It seemed so natural a conse-
quence of the shock of such an unexpected and terrible
accident to a valued friend. '

When, therefore. General Farquharson was announced, he
advanced to meet him with a cordiality which was merely
slightly tinged with nervousness. General Farquharson's
manner was sternly grave, but it was not unfriendly. He
did not, however, take the hand Sir Maurice oflered, and
that significant action warned the younger man quite suffi-
ciently of danger ahead, although it did not entirely prepare
him for General Farquharson's first words.

" How have I merited. Sir Maurice Adair, thf I yo i a- ould
try to do me the cruellest injury one man can dr 4nother ? '

A quick spasm passed over Sir Murice's fac«, \\A the
rejected hand, which had dropped on the table, beside which
he was standing, trembled visibly. He did not answer for
a moment. Then, moved by a sudden impulse, he burst out
vehemently —

IV\

402

James Hepburn.

IS ^

" I never thought of you at all. I simply saw the loveliest,
the most adorable woman God ever created treated with
something little above coldness ; her loving nature chilled,
and her whole life rendered unhappy. I bore it as long as 1
could, and then I asked her to accept, in place of such treat-
ment, the deepest, most impassioned love man ever offered
to woman."

" And with it a stained name, expulsion from her rightful
place in society, and a future life always to some extent
under a cloud."

" No. She would have borne my name, and the world is
wide. One narrow set is not mankind. Devoted love and
the society of a circle of true-hearted friends would have
awaited her, and made up to her for what she had lost. I never
for a moment did you such an injustice, General Farquhar-
son, as to dream of your being one of those base wretches
who would prevent the woman, whose love they had forfeited^
from ever again bearing the name of wife. I knew that I
should be able to give her ray name, and devote my life to
promoting her happiness. I do not seek to extenuate my
action as far as it concerns yourself. I have' no excuse to
offer. T simply tell you the honest truth. I could no
longer endure to see that she was not happy, and I honestly
believed my love would make her happy. You know the
rest."

He spoke with an air of straightforward, manly sincerity,
which was strongly in his favour. But he did not lift his
clowncast eyes, or he might have seen that the grave, steady
searching look which was fixed upon him was by no means
an unkindly one.

" I fully believe you would have unceasingly striven to do
all you say," General Farquharson replied. Did I not do so,
I could not have dared to face an interview. But the

James tiephum.

403

attempt must have been a failure. You have been deceiv-
ing yourself, and in your calmer reflection you will admit
that. You know the world, Sir Maurice Adair, and you
know, though you may try to shut your eyes to the fact,
that, at least for a woman belonging to the class In which
Lady Ellinor has been born and brought up, the step to
which you were urging her is one fraught with life long con-
sequences of sorrow and bitterness, It is when I think of all
these consequences, I feel as if I could never bring myself to
forgive you."

" No husband could ever be expected to do that." Then,
in a lower tone, he added, "She was very unhappy."

" With no unjiappiness to excuse your action. I am no
stern, austere moralist. Some might hold me dangerously
lax. £ut I do not hesitate to say I have known cases in
which I should have held your action justifiable ; but this is
not one of them."

" It seemed to me to be so."

" Yes, because you wished to find it so. In all honesty,
however, I can say I hold you less to blame than myself.
The temptation against which I believe you honestly s^i-rove,
and your power to injure me — all result from my own blind
infatuated folly. I hold myself so deeply guilty that I feel
as though I had forfeited all right to condemn you. Enough
of that, however. It is not for you to know what has passed
between Lady Ellinor and myself. It is sufficient to say
that what you have done enables me to think very lightly of
what you tried to do. You, with the aid of that noble fel-
low now lying a shattered wreck, have insured Lady Elinor's
happiness in a way you very little dreamed of. It is that
fact which enables me to forgive you for your attempt to
bring upon me such a- bitter, life-long sorrow,"

Sir Maurice Adair suddenly raised his eyes, and looked

. »

404

James Hepburn.

il^

hi '

-1 :

General Farquharson full in the face. "Would it have
been that 1 " he asked. /

"Do you doubt it?"

" Honestly, yes, I have done so."

General Farquharson did not reply for a moment. Then
in a slightly tremulous tone, he replied — " I know no way
in which I can more fully show that my forgiveness of your
conduct is absolute, than in saying what I can say in all sin-
cerity. May heaven grant you may never know so cruel,
so heart-breaking a grief, as that you have tried to draw
down upon my head."

Sir Maurice was much agitated. " Believe me, General
Farquharson," he said, " I did not credit that. I may have
wilfully tried to blind myself. I fear it is only too pro-
bable. But I did really believe, or had persuaded myself
that I did believe, the pain you would suffer would be neither
very lasting nor very severe ; that you had not found hap-
piness yourself in your marriage ; and that though a certain
amount of pain and distress must result to you, it would not
be greater than you would find consolation for in some more
congenial tie, which you would be able to form. Had 1
realized the truth, I think I could have fought more stead-
i:astly against temptation."

General Farquharson laid his hand upon the younger man's
shoulder. " That I fully believe. But as long as you livei
Adair, never allow yourself to assume again that an unde-
monstrative manner necessarily implies a deficiency of feel"
ing." '

" Thank you," was Sir Maurice Adair's somewhat irrelev-
ant reply.

"For what?"

" For calling me ' Adair.' In showing me what you are,
you have made me feel what I am, or rather have been.

■"1
•I

Jamea Hepburn.

405

When you thus address me, it gives roe a hope you will let
me, sorae day, try to show you what I feel towards you."

General Farquharson smiled gravely. " An overruling
Providence," he said, " has averted an awful catastrophe,
and has rendered it not impossible for you and me to be, in
time, firm and true friends. I am come to-day to give ; ou,
I think, the strongest proof I could give you of undestroyed
regard, and full forgiveness. I wish to consult you over our
immediate course of action."

"You have but to lay your commands on me."

" Well, for the present moment, I think it would be pain-
ful and embarrassing for Lady EUinor to meet you. At the
same time, I am very averse, as things have turned out, to
Jeave Strathellon. It would be a great grief to both Lady
Ellinor and myself to do so as long as Mr. Hepburn is in
his present condition. If you can arrange to leave the
neighbourhood entirely for a time, I shall feel you have done
all you can to atone for the past. Of course, a total cessa-
ation of intercourse, while you remained at Dunkerran,
would give rise to much comment, which I am anxious to
avoid. And for the present that is necessary."

"I will leave to-morrow, and remain away for years, if
you wish it."

"That will not be necessary. If you can settle to be
absent for six or eight months, it will be quite sufficient."

" And when I return ? "

Again, a 'smile crossed General Farquharson 's face.
"When you return," he said, "you have my free leave to
try and persuade Lady Fllinor to elope with you, as often
as you find a chance to do so."

"Might I see her, just once for a moment, in your
presence, before I leave ? "

" No. As far as I am concerned you oiight see her when^
(96)

I**
if

406

James Hepburn.

i! !

and where and how you pleased. But she is fearfully
shaken. I was quite grieved, this morning, to see how
painfully nervous and excitable she seemed to be. Under
these circumstances £ cannot sanction an interview, which,
if she would accord it, which I doubt, could not fail to
agitate her. I can see that it will be necessary for me, for
some time to come, to guard her from all excitement most
carefully. I will be the bearer of any message. I would
rather you would not write to her."

" Only ask her, then, to forgive me ; and assure her I will
try to be worthy of the friendship which I hope she will
one day accord to me."

" I will tell her, and now good-bye. "When we next
meet, I think it will be as friends whom nothing can ever
come between."

*' Good-bye. I do not ask for a forgiveness, of which you
have so nobly, so generously gi«ren me, already, full proof.
But this much I will say. Had I succeeded in t Tying out
my design, and come afterwards to know what you really
are, General Farquharson, a life-long remorse would have
been my fate. Let m« give you, in turn, one parting ad-
monition. Show yourself in your true character in future,
and the man does not live who could draw any woman,
worth loving, from your side." i

Then, with a cordial, hearty grasp of hands they parted,
and General Farquharson was soon on his road home
again.

Lady Ellinor, flushed and excited, met her husband at
t*ie head of the stairs, when he returned to Strathellon.
" Oh, Stuart, I am so glad you are come," she said. " I was
getting so nervous ; I dreaded a quarrel, or something."

" Silly child. Come and sit down quietly, and I will tell
you all. We parted firm friends." |

James Hepburn.

407

Seated bt>«ide her, with her hand clasped in his, General
Farquharson told her all that had passed, even to the part-
ing admonition he had received.

" Did he say that ? " she exclaimed. " Oh, then I can
forgive him. Write and tell him so, Stuart. Tell him I
shall remember him only as the man who taught r^e to know
my husband. Oh, Stuart, how can I ever atone, ever
requite you 1 "

He passed his arm round her. " Love me, Ellinor " was
all he said, as he pressed his lips to hers.

It was not, after all, to be Nunc Dimittis for James
Hepburn. It was a long sore struggle, with many alterna-
tions- of hope and fear ; but at length the period of steady,
though slow improvement set in. And then, in due time,
came the advance of sitting up for a few hours every day
in, Mr. Laing averred, a Mohammedan paradise, of every
possible thing which could delight the senses.

He was sitting thus alone' one evening, as the autiimn
dusk was falling, when a servant, bringing in the lamp, said
that a groom from Dunkerran had arrived with a message,
and wanted to know if he could see Mr. Hepburn.

" Yes, let him come in," he said, anticipating some com-
munication from Sir Maurice Adair. The servant left the
room, and in a few moments ushered in the messenger ; a
tall, young fellow, in a groom's undress clothes. As he
came, rather slowly, forward into the lamp light, Mr. Hep-
burn looked at him in some perplexity. The face seemed in
some way familiar to him, and yet he could not recall when
and where he had seen it.

" I doubted ye wadna ken me, sir," the visitor quietly
observed.

" Robert Blackwood ! " exclaimed the minister, even now

408

JairiM Hepburn.

barely able to connect the face with the familiar mce. The
change was not alone such a one as might be due to the
effects of the accident. The face was worn, and lined with
lines which only mental suffering could have printed on it.

" Yes, sir," he said, quietly. " It's no true I've a mes-
sage, but I did'na weel ken hoo I wad get to see ye ony
ither gait wi'out gi en my name, an' I daurna do that."

" It is surely madness for you to be here."

" Wad ony one ken me, sir? Forbye that, it's darkenin'
fast. But I wad ha'e riskit a' things to see ye just aince
mair, and ask ye to fbrgie me, before I gang awa* for ever."

" Forgive you, my lad ? For what ? "

" For that ye're lying there, wasted an' worn wi' pain an*
weariness. It was 1 that did that piece o' deil's wark."

James Hepburn was, for a moment, too much startled
and amaled to reply " You, Blackwood ! " he said, at
length.

" Ay, sir. It was just me."
. " What devil has taken pos^^ssion of you ? "

" A deil that was minded I wad ken the torments o' the
damned before I left this warld, I think. I dinna think I
hae sleppit twa hours tbegether ony nicht since I heard
what had happened. I wad hae blawn my ain /brains oot,
but for the hope I aye had that ye might get ower it, so
that I wad hae a chance to tell ye ye'd gained yer will, wi'
anither besides Lady Ellinor, an' ask ye to forgie me."

" You bewilder me, Blackwood. I feel as if I could not
grasp your meaning. You must try and make it all clear to
me. Sit down."

" That's just what I wad fain do, sir. I want to tell you
noo, a' ye've sae long wanted to ken. I doubt ye'se best let
me just begin at the beginnin', an' tell it a' to ye my ain
gait."

James Hepbv/m.

409

Yea, do so. That will be best."

"Weel, sir, the man I've aye been after is just Sir
Maurice Adair himself."

*< Then you are entirely wrong, Blackwood. Sir Maurice
never injured you. I put the question to him, myself,
whether he had ever done anything which might have fairly
aroused your s.rpicions, and I do not feel the least doubt
that he was speaking the truth when he absolutely denied
it."

Blackwood shook his head. " Ye'll ne'er convince me, sir,
but that he cam' between Mary an' me ; but it's nae matter
the noo. To get on wi' my story. It was him I was waitin'
for that night when I sae near shot you. I'd seen him
drivin' in to the gates, an' I thocht he'd likely be stayin' to
his dinner. I went up to the stables aboot eight o'clock, on
a pretence to speaK to ane o' the grooms, an' saw his
horse was there; so then I went and waited. I knew
he'd no servant, sae when ye cam' oot o' the lodge gate, I'd
ne'er thocht o' it bein' onybody but him ; an' I scarce lookit
at the trap, or for a' the darkness I think I might ha'e seen
I was wrang. Then ye ken hoo I wad fain ha'e finished
him up in 'the wood ; an' when he cam' to see me, an' seemed
sae much taen up aboot my gi'ein' mysel' up, an' sae anxious
to help me^ I jiist thocht I'd get anither chance, some day.
Then when I got awa', an' got that smash in the face, it a'
seemed as it wad help me. I got that kick tryin' to keep
oot of range o' the police. I chanced upon that horse fair,
an^ thocht they'd likely be hangin' aboot, sae I was slippin'
alang amang the horses. I thocht then it was a gran'
chance, an' I believe I'd hae been caught, but for it ; for
thore was a gey sharp look oot keppit, I'll tell ye. When I
got better, I went an' saw Sir Maurice, an' he was a' forme
to gang oot o' the country, but I tauid him I'd nae do that ;

410

Jamea Hepburn.

V'<^.

.--:.ir.

m ■

an' that I'd no' be that easy recognised noo, an it wad be ony
great danger. I saw he didna like it, but I doubt he didna
just like to shy oot what was in his mind. Then, after
thinking a bit, he asked me was I onyway weel kent about
his place. I tauld him I didna ken a saul aboot that side
o' the country, and then he said, wad I tak' a groom's place ;
he wanted a fresh han' aboot the stables, an' he wad easily
avoid sendin' me onywhere in danger. I thocht I had him
then, sure enuch, an' I took the place. I watched him close,
but I didna see muckle chance just then. Wi' the election
business, he was aye flyin' aboot the country, but I soon
made oot he was gettin' a hold on Loddy Ellinor, an' it
grieved me sair for her. I had nae thocht what was up till
a week before the time. Then I followed him one afternoon
when he went oot alajie. He'd a gait o' crossin' the hills on
foot, an' meetin* her in the woods, an' then walkin' roim
the back way to Mossgiel Sta'.ion, an' gettin' back wi the
train. He met her that day, an' I got close, an' I heard it
a' settled ; an' hoo the ti-ap wad meet her, an' tak' her on
to Kelvin static n ; an' hoo he wad drive awa' up to Castle-
muii station, an' come doon wi' the train that wad pick her
up. Just then they heard ane o' the keeper's callin' to a
dog in the distance, an' they parted in haste, an' I had nae
chance to do for him. I thocht I'd pit a stap on that game,
or T wad hae sent ye word sooner. But I never got a chance.
An' when I found a' things were bein' settled for his bein'
awa' a lang, lang while, an' that I wadna get anither chance,
it drove me fair mad. I. got that letter awa' to ye early
that mornin' ; an' a' that day he was busy wi the steward,
and then early next mornin' he was awa'. Hoo they'd come
to mak' a change I dinna ken, or hoo Leddy Ellinor got to
Oastlemuir station ; but they'd altered it some way. After
he was gane, I scarce ken what I did. Then the diel pit the

James Hepburn.

411

thocht in me o' wreckin' the train. One day, after I fol-
lowpd him, I'd gane back that road, an' I'd soon that beam
lyin' up against the rock just by the telegraph pole ; an' I
■aw in a minute it wad be no a hard or lang bit o' wark to
heave it roon' sao as it wad fa' down between the rock an'
the pole, an' stick oot ower the rail. I made strauuht awa'
ower the hills, an' had it fixed in nae time. A' the rest ye
ken, sir. But ye'll never ken what I felt when I heard
what had happened, an' knew that X^ddy Ellinor must have
been in the train forbye, and that ye were the only one hurt.
Do ye mind what ye said, sir, the nicht I gave mysel' up?
That if I tried it a third time, yer life wad maybe pay for't,
an' hoo ye thocht I'd hae a sair heart then. A sair heart's
nae the word ava ; it's a heart-break. An' ye said, lang
syne, sir, if I'd shot ye, an' the horror o't had turned me
frae evil, ye'd hae been weel content. Ye've dune it wi' less
than yer life, sir." '

" Do you mean that you have given up all thought of
vengeance, then?"

" Ay, that I have, sir. What wad ye hae me do, after
a* I've brocht on ye, but to try to lead a' the rest o' my life,
"^ as like as I can, to what ye wad fain hae it to be. I doubt
it'll no be a lang life the noo, sir. The blow that didna kill
you '11 kill me. I canua get ower it. Day an' nicht, day
an' nicht, the thocht o' my pittin that cursed thing, just to
strike down an' injure for life the only bein' in the warld
I've ony great care aboot, keeps burn, burnin' in my brain.
But I'm aff to New Zealand directly. I've only been waitin'
just till I could see ye, an' tell ye a', an ask ye to forgie me.
Ye'll do that before I go, sir, I ken ; an' sae lang as I live,
gude or had, nae human bein' shall be the worse for me, if I
can help it."

James Hepburn silently grasped his hand. For a few

If i

412

Jamen Hepburn.

fOoroenU he could not speak. Blackwood's words were
simple enough ; it was his tone and manner which gave them
force, betraying how keen and deep his suffering was.

" My poor boy," he said at last, " what I have suffered is
nothing to what you have suffered ; but had it been ten
times as severe, I would have held it a light thing for all
that it has brought about. The promise you have just made
me has lifted a weight which has lain heavy on my heart
ever since that night you so nearly shot me. I have always
felt, since then, that if you ever succeeded in reeking your
vengeance I should be to some extent responsible. Thank
Goi that I alone have suffered from your attempt ; and that
its result heis been to bring about all that I have prayed,
night and day, it might be given me to bring about."

" I kent ye wad look at it that way, sir. I doubt ye
haven't got the power to think aboot yersel' ava. Ye'd be
weel pleased wi' ony trouble to yersel' sae lang as it brought
ony gude to ither folk. It's gude o' ye to speak so, and it'll
be a comfort to me to remember yer words when the sea's
between us. But naethin's ony power to help me muckle
the noo. I canna see richtly hoo things might hae been, for
the horror o' what is. Gude-bye noo, sir. I'll be awa' in a
week's time. Will ye write a line whiles, just to cheer
me on 1 "

" Right gladly. Write to me the moment you land.
Good-bye, my boy, and the blessing of God go with you."

Blaokyrood held his hand for a moment, gazing into his
face with an expression of unutterable sadness. Then he
moved away, and slowly left the room.

U J-. I

wordi were
h gave them
J was.

e suffered is
it been ten
hing for all
e just made
n my heart
»ave always
eking your
e. Thank
and that
ve prayed,
^ut."

doubt ye
Ye'dbe
it brought
o, and it'll
1 the sea's
ae niuckle
3 been, for
awa' in a

to cheer

rou land.
I you."
: into his
Then he

Jameg Ilephum.

413

ONLY LOVE CAN SAVE.

LoTB had saved — how many, none would ever know.
Within a year. Lady Ellinor Farquharson, more radiantly
lovely than ever, in hur exceeding happiness, looked in one
morning at the manse.

" I have news for you," she said.

"Good, I see."

" Yes. Sir Maurice Adair is coming home, and is to be
married, in three months time, to my sister Agnes."

Robert Blackwood had not predicted falsely. He died
within a few years after his arrival in New Zealand, leaving
behind him the reputation of being the kindest-hearted,
most unselfish man in his neighbourhood. He had arrived
from Scotland, his friends said, with a deep sadness upon
him, which had not decreased as time passed, but had rather
seemed to develop into a settled melancholy. An attack of
low fever carried him off.

James Hepburn never entirely recovered from the injuries
he had received. Ho lived a gaunt, haggard wreck of his
former self, never very strong, and often suffering severely.
But of that no one ever heard. Mr. Laing's prophecy had
come true. He held a position in Mossgiel which no minis-
ter had ever held there before — a position wl.ich even the
noblest spirit can only reach through a baptism of tire.
But it was not in the abundant fruit of his labours, always
before him in Mossgiel, that he found the deepest source of
his constant rejoicing. It was in the thought of the silent
sleeper, in that far-off grave, who had left behind him, in his
new home, a memory of kindly deeds, and unfailing sym-

■!■>•"—••«»"

414

JamcH Hephnm.

.:>;?

pathy, and in constant contemplation of the happy homes
at Strathellon and Dunkerran. In both, children were
growing up, and the two beautiful sisters were said to be
the best and happiest wives and mothers in the county.

[th» end.]

/' .

Vt,

•#*"

le happy homes
, children were
wrere said to be
the county.