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DOROTHY'S VOCATION.
• _
By Evelyn Everett Green.
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OLIVER LANGTON'S
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CHRISSY'S ENDEAVOUR
By Pansy. Author's Edition.
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A SEVENFOLD TROUBLE
By Pansy and her Friends.
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By Amelia E. Barr.
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edinburgh: 1 london:
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T I B
'she was stirring the scalding porridge with a large
wooden pole.'—Page 31.
T I B
>
by
GEORGE DOUGLAS
EDINBURGH
OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER
And 24 OLD BAILEY, LONDON
1892
UNIFORM WITH 'TIB.'
Crown 8vo, paper boards, 2s.; cloth, 2s. 6d.,
Aldersyde. By Annie S. Swan, Author of 'The Gates of Eden,' 'Briar
and Palm,' 'St. Veda's,' etc.
At Any Cost. By Edward Garrett, Author of ' By Still Waters,'' Equal
to the Occasion,' etc.
Carlowrie. By Annie S. Swan, Author of ' Sheila,' ' Maitland of Lauriq-
ston,' etc.
The Lily of Lammermoor. By James Dopes.
Preston Tower. By Jessie M. E. Saxby, Author of 'Ben Hanson,' 'Kate
and Jean,' 'Vita Vinctis,' etc.
Ihe Laird's Secret By Jane H. Jamieson, Author of 'Sir John's Ward,'
etc.
Glenairlie. By Bobina F. Hardy, Author of 'Jock Halliday,' 'Katie,'
'Tibby's Tryst,' etc.
Matthew Dale, Farmer. By Mrs. Sanders.
Bits from Blinkbonny. By John Strathesk, Author of 'Bits about
America,' 'Andrew Gillon,' 'Little Bluebird,* etc.
More Bits from Blinkbonny. By John Strathesk, Author of 'Bits from
Blinkbonny,' etc.
Seventy Times Seven. By Adeline Sergeant, Author of ' The Luck of
the House,' ' Jacobi's Wife,' 'No Saint,' etc.
Among the Heather. By A. C. Hertford, Author of ' Love Conquers All.'
Tibby's Tryst. By Robina F. Hardy, Author of ' Glenairlie,'' Kilgarvie,'
'Jock Halliday,' etc.
The Luck of the House. By Adeline Sergeant.
The Ayres of Studleigh. By Annie S. Swan.
The Sandcliff Mystery. By Scott Graham, Author of 'The Golden
Milestone.'
EDINBURGH & LONDON:
OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER.
morrison and gibb, printers, edinburgh.
TIB.
CHAPTER I.
RICHT YULE felt lie could drag
himself along no farther, but must
succumb ignominiously to sheer
bodily fatigue. He had walked many miles
of rough hilly road under the burning rays
of a scorching August sun. He was not
accustomed to such continuous exercise, and
his feet had soon become sore and blistered.
The wild beauty of the mountains, clad from
hoary crest to russet foot with a gorgeous
canopy of purple heather, the windings of the
silver Noran down in the valley below, the
clusters of blue-bells waving their graceful
heads amidst the wind-sown grasses by the
5
6
TIB.
roadside, the spicy, resinous odours of the great
pine forest, had no charms for the worn-out,
weary man. He longed for a breath of coo]
air, for a drink of water, for a cloud to obscure,
if only for a moment, the glare of the dazzling
blue sky, and the pitiless blaze of the sun.
Yule wondered vaguely how much farther
distant his destination was from the present
point at the foot of a steep brae leading along
a cart track, flanked on one side by a hedge
of blackthorn and wild cherry trees, and on
the other by a strip of plantation growing
gradually wider towards the top of the hill,
where it spread into a good-sized wood.
Yule paused for a moment to consider
whether it was likely he would be rewarded
for his trouble in climbing the brae by arriving
at Eskmains. Did this tremendous brae lead
anywhere in particular, or merely, as so many
of the by-ways into which he had mistakenly
wandered, conduct to some pond or pump in a
field for supplying cattle with water ?
But while Yule hesitated which course to
pursue, the whole matter was taken out of his
hands and settled for him in an unexpected
and summary manner. His legs gave way
TIB
7
beneath him, his head reeled, the landscape
became dim and misty before his eyes, and he
fell heavily on the road.
The young man lay still and quiet, his thin
white face turned towards the implacable blue
sky. Hosts of flies buzzed about his head, but
he stirred no finger to brush them away. Little
yellow - hammers hopped and chirped close
to him without showing any sign of fear.
Presently a squirrel ran noiselessly along the
top of the dyke, looking down on the bank,
where whin bushes and clumps of ferns and
tall foxgloves, the latter having just two or
three pink bells, their wide soft throats fretted
with brown velvet speckles, still lingering at
the end of long spikes of seed-pods, to tell of
their former rosy splendour,—and came close
to the unconscious man. Dragon-flies, with
azure bodies and luminous gauze wings, flitted
from flower to flower; and on the warm,
short turf the grasshoppers were clicking away
cheerily.
By and by the sound of cart-wheels and
the trampling of a horse's feet was heard in
the distance. The birds flew leisurely away,
and the squirrel, concluding a series of pretty
8
TIB.
antics, judged it prudent to retire to a
tree.
Nearer and nearer came the cart and horse,
but Ericht Yule never stirred. He was lying at
an acute angle, where the road turned sharply
round a corner—a dangerous position, as he
might not be noticed until too late.
Two girls were sitting amongst some clean
straw spread at the bottom of the cart. The
older and taller of the girls was driving, while
the other lay extended on the yellow straw
in as luxurious a manner as the circumstances
of the case permitted. Clova Shiel was ex-
amining the latest invention in the book of
fashions she was holding in her hand, while
she sang in her clear treble voice a scrap of an
old ballad—
'There grows a bonnie brier bush
In oor kailyard,
An' bonnie are the blossoms on't'—
4 Clova, there's a man i' the road !' cried
Tib, catching hold of her sister's arm. ' Wo,
Dandy!'
Clova stopped her song and laid down her
fashion-book at one and the same moment.
' A man !' she repeated. 4 Whatna man ?'
TIB.
9
By this time Tib had jumped out of the cart
and had backed the horse several yards.
4 It's a mercy ye didna drive ower him, Tib,'
continued Clova, 4 an' sma' blame to ye gin
ye had! What made him lie doon at sic a
place ?'
4 Maybe he hadna ony choice i' the matter,'
said Tib drily. 4 He looks as though he'd
had an illness o' some kin' or anither.'
4 Weel, we canna bide a' nicht here, an' the
maister fair desperate for the shearers' beer
an' rolls.'
4 We maunna leave the man lying there.
He micht be killed.'
Tib bent over Yule, and tried to lift him
from the ground. She was a strong woman,
but her strength seemed as nothing when
trying to cope with the dead-weight of the
unconscious man. And yet he was thin and
wasted to a degree, his clothes hanging loose
and baggy upon his emaciated frame.
4Wull he be deid?' cried Clova, with an
involuntary shudder. 4 Oh, dinna touch him !
It's no' lucky to touch a corpse that's nae
freend to ye.'
4 He winna hurt me, an' I dinna believe
IO
TIB.
he's deid, though he's unco like it, an' that
cauld.'
4 Tuts! let's leave him here; we've nae
business wi' him. I wadna be surprised though
he were a tinkler, an' had the tinklers' trade.'
'Weel, they are just making tin pots an'
pans, an' horn spunes,' said Tib, laughing.
* But he's no' a tinkler. He's gotten a bonnie
heid o' hair, though it's cut gey short.'
' Tinklers may hae grand heids o' hair—
that's nae sign o' respectability. There's auld
Eobin Moulin, wha's as respectable as can be,
an' he hasna had a hair on his heid naebody
kens when. What'll be in that wee wooden
box like a coffin ?'
4 A fiddle, nae doot,' responded Tib. 4 I've
seen the schulem aister carrying its marrow;
but ye should better be acquent wi't than me,
for you're aye at Mr. Brandreth's singing class,
Clova.'
A sudden flush crimsoned Clova's fair, soft
face, and she turned away.
Tib took Yule's hands in her own, chafing
them in order to restore some heat to the
chilly fingers, but they fell back heavy and
lifeless on his chest when released from her
TIB. 11
gentle pressure. Then she stooped down to
listen whether he still breathed, and in so
doing her warm, fresh cheek almost touched his
dry, parched lips. It was at that moment that
Ericht Yule's eyes unclosed, and his soul came
back from that unknown region of shadows
and darkness in which his senses had been so
lately prisoned. Clova's curiosity was speedily
gratified by the sight of a pair of singularly
melancholy but remarkably fine dark eyes.
For the rest, Ericht Yule was not handsome.
He wore a heavy black moustache, his com-
plexion was sallow., his features irregular, and,
to a discriminating reader of character, whether
for good or evil, they bore the impress of strong
emotions and strong passions.
Tib drew back a little when she saw him
open his eyes.
4 His een are like the deep salmon pool up
Noran Water when the sun shines on it,' said
Clova in a mischievous whisper. 4 Never saw
I sic een afore.'
Tib paid no attention whatever to Clova's
observations.
4 Are ye finding yersel' ony better ?' she
asked. Albeit she spoke the broad Scotch
dialect of her native Northern land, her voice
was low-pitched and soft; with neither shrill-
ness nor sharpness of accent. The wood-dove
cooing to its mate in the pine forest has no
harder notes than had Tib Shiel's tones.
*
Ericht Yule sighed deeply.
' Oh, then, I am alive after all!' he said,
with evident regret.
'An' wha wadna be glad to be alive this
bonnie simmer day ?' said Tib. 4 It's grand
weather for the hairst, an' we're that busy at
Eskmains wi' the cutting o' the oats, and
the berries a' ripening thegither for the jam-
making, that we hardly ken which way to
turn. I think ye're kin' o' warmer like, arena
ye?'
' Eskmains !' exclaimed Yule, with some
animation. ' Is it far from here ?'
'Just a bittie yont the tap o' the brae.
Dandy, what are ye doing ? Stand still; ye're
no' ganging hame without us.'
The cart horse, a huge bay animal, with
long-flowing black mane and tail, smooth
well - groomed flanks, and shaggy fetlocks,
becoming tired of waiting, manifested signs of
impatience, and prepared to set off up the hill.
TIB.
13
Tib caught hold of the reins, and turned round
towards Yule in the expectation of his making
some remark concerning Eskmains.
She was a tall young woman, with a
magnificently developed figure. Her head
was daintily set on a throat white as snow
where the sun had not touched it, and there
was a dignity and pride about her, the result
of superb strength and a lack of self-conscious-
ness. The pale - blue sunshade she wore in
common with the other female out-workers
at Eskmains partly concealed short regular
features, dark grey eyes, and long curly dusky
lashes, while her abundant chestnut hair was
entirely hidden beneath the projecting curtain
of her head-gear. The buff print jacket and
the russet petticoat—the latter reaching hardly
to the well-turned ankles for the convenience
of walking in damp weather — by no means
constituted an elegant costume; yet the
appearance of Tib Shiel in her out-worker's
attire, her whole attitude full of spirit and
resolution, one hand raised to grasp the reins
of the handsome cart horse, was striking in
the extreme.
Clova had not condescended to alight from
14
TIB.
the cart to help Tib in her ministrations of
mercy. She was still sitting, leaning non-
chalantly amongst the straw.
She was exceedingly pretty—not so tall as
Tib—with a slight, willowy figure, and a certain
kittenish grace about her. She was dressed in
much more ordinary garments than Tib, and
her pink cotton gown was made with some
attempt at fashion. Evidently she had a
taste for ornaments, having small gilt earrings
in her ears and a brooch to fasten her collar,
while a white straw hat trimmed with pink
flowers surmounted her golden braids.
Ericht Yule glanced from one sister to the
other with keen scrutiny, but his gaze finally
rested upon Tib.
4 That's a stiff brae,' said he, somewhat wist-
fully.
' Gin ye hae business wi' Master Carroch
we'll gie ye a lift i' the cairt,' replied Tib.
' Maybe ye're no' able to climb the brae.'
Yule rose with an effort to his feet, but he
sank down again almost immediately.
' Clova, haud ye the reins a minute,' said Tib.
* Noo, Dandy, can I trust ye no' to stir ?'
She patted the beautiful head of the intelli-
TIB.
*5
gent animal. Dandy gave a whinny of affec-
tion, shaking his pointed ears impatiently to
get rid of a tiresome fly, and then stood still.
' Ye're vera weakly like,' continued Tib to
Yule. ' See, pit yer hand on my shoulder, an'
that'll steady ye. It's vera disagreeable when
a body's no' weel. I'll unfasten the tail-board
oot o' the cairt, an' then it'll be easier for ye.'
' Thank you kindly,' said Yule. ' I'm anxious
to speak to Mr. Carroch at Eskmains. I've
walked from Fernlea to-day, and I'm tired wi'
the heat.'
4 It's no' meikle mair than twelve miles;
but maybe ye're no' used wi' travelling,'
replied Tib.
By this time Yule had again struggled into
an upright position, and had placed his hand
on Tib's firm shoulder in order to maintain
himself erect. Slowly and painfully he reached
4
the cart, and, with considerable difficulty,
managed to make the ascent. As he withdrew
from Tib's immediate proximity, he noticed
that where Clova wore a brooch she had pinned
a bunch of deep purple pansies instead.
Meanwhile Tib, without the least embarrass-
ment or awkwardness, contrived an impromptu
16 TIB.
pillow for Yule's head. He was too much ex-
hausted to feel anything strange in her settling
him down in the most comfortable part of the
cart, and even asking Clova to hold her parasol
over him that he might not be blinded by the
sun in his eyes.
As Tib was about to urge Dandy forward,
Clova bent down her pretty head towards her
sister.
' Ye're acting the part o' the gude Samaritan
real weel!' she whispered. ' Ye couldna do
mair for the tinkler had he been yer brither.'
CHAPTER II.
HAT a hot day, mistress! It's just
like the Indies in the harvest-field.'
Mr. Carroch flung himself down
in an easy-chair opposite the open window in
the parlour at Eskmains, of which North
Country hill-farm he and his father before
him had been tenants for many years.
Although outside the heat was intense, and
the small wooden window-sill so hot that to
touch it almost burnt the fingers, yet within
the parlour all was cool and shady. The
boughs of a goodly apple tree, laden with
apples, encircled the narrow window, through
the small panes of which glimpses of a large
rambling garden—where everything—flowers,
fruit, trees, and vegetables—grew together,
B
i8
TIB.
appearing to flourish even more luxuriantly
for their proximity—were visible.
'Gold-dusted snapdragon,
Sweet-william, with, his homely cottage smell,
And stocks in fragrant blow,
Roses that down the alleys shine afar.'
The parlour was in admirable order; not
a speck of dust was visible on the polished
dark mahogany furniture, and there was a
huge, old-fashioned posy, of pink cabbage
roses, honeysuckle, thyme, and gardener's
garter, in a big china punch-bowl on the
table.
'It's a warm day, mistress !' repeated Mr.
Carroch.
He seldom called his wife by her Christian
name. Generally speaking, he spoke of her
as ' the mistress,' ' she,' or ' herself.' When he
did address her as Elizabeth, the two small boy
Carrochs, of which the family consisted, were
seriously impressed with the solemnity and im-
portance of the occasion. Not more than twice
did Peter and George recollect of this being the
case : once, when their paternal grandmother
died; and again, when Mr. Carroch unexpect-
TIB.
19
edly inherited a small sum of money under
the will of a distant and cantankerous cousin,
with whom he had scarcely exchanged half
a dozen civil words. Similarly, Mrs. Carroch
rarely spoke of her husband as c Duncan,'
adopting the old-world Scotch middle-class
custom, which had a certain quaint, scriptural
flavour about it, of saying, 4 the master.'
' Yes, it's been very warm,' she answered.
*
She was a slight, dark-haired woman, about
the middle height. She had small, straight
features, an exceedingly white complexion, and
large blue eyes. She was much younger than
her husband, a tall, elderly man, with grizzled
grey hair. Duncan Carroch was universally
respected as well as somewhat dreaded by
his neighbours and farm servants. Just and
upright himself, he did not easily overlook the
faults and failings of others. He bore the
reputation of being a hard man, a first-rate
hand at making a bargain, and a capital
manager of stiff, sour land.
4 Whew! I've been nearly baked in that
field. I'm glad the boys are getting their
holidays, for it would have been hard work
for them, shut up in that hot schoolroom at
20
TIB.
Yalros. Mr. Brandreth's a clever teacher, and
is bringing on Peter fine/
'Yes, and George too. Mr. Brandreth's a
born dominie.'
' Oh, as for that boy Peter, he's a perfect
prodigy!' exclaimed Mr. Carroch, with ineff-
able pride. 'He fairly beat me last night
with his arithmetic. His parsing is extra-
ordinary too. I feel I ought to go to school
again.'
' Have you heard of a new orra man yet ?'
said Mrs. Carroch, suddenly changing the con-
versa tion.
' No. I've been surprised I've had no
answers to the advertisement.'
' Wasn't it a pity you dismissed Donald Bain
in such a hurry ?'
'Well, he was so stupid that he tried my
temper sorely,' said Mr. Carroch apologetically.
' Didn't he mix the early and late potatoes,
and then protested that they came out of
the same bag in the seedman's shop ? You
couldn't leave him to wink your eye but he
was up to something or other. James Shiel
was a great loss.'
' Ah, we'll never get another orra man like
TIB.
21
him. James had such nice manners, and had
been so long about the place that he was more
a friend than a servant.'
' I sometimes think it's wonderful how
those two girls have got on, living alone in
that desolate cottage in the wood. Tib
is a grand creature, but she spoils Clova,
until the lassie doesn't know what to make
of herself.'
' Tib has nobody but Clova, and there's no
doubt Clova has a way with her that makes
you pet her, just as you stroke a pretty kitten.
I mind how I went to see the girls after
their father's death. Clova was useless with
crying, but Tib held up her head and said
that she had thought over their future. She
did not wish to be beholden to anybody,
and she would work in the fields as usual
if you would keep her on, and Clova would
bide at home and could do a little at the
millinery. She has a good pair of hands, has
Clova.'
' Oh, you're as bad as Tib.'
' Come, master; you've a kindness for Clova
yourself.'
' I confess I can never feel very angry with
22
7TB.
her, although she prinks herself up like a
fashion-plate, and has as many airs and graces
as a peacock with his tail trailing on the grass.
But it's unlucky that she has such high notions,
for after all she's only the daughter of our old
orra man, and it's not likely she'll marry any-
body better than a ploughman.'
'Well, I wish we had an orra man again.
You've been obliged to send that couple of
lassies to Fernlea, and I had wanted Clova
here this afternoon to sew for me.'
' They're surely long in getting back,' said
Mr. Carroch.
' I hope nothing has happened to them,'
remarked his wife rather anxiously. ' Dandy's
a frisky beast.'
' Oh, they're right enough ; but the shearers
will be wearying for the beer and rolls. I'm
that thirsty myself that I could let the Noran
flow down my throat for several hours, and
yet, I believe, my drouth would hardly be
quenched.'
Mrs. Carroch smiled at the extravagance of
her husband's language.
' The shearers have all left the field,' said
she. ' Is it tea - time ? We can't have
TIB.
23
any until Tib brings the groceries from
F ernlea.'
' Left the field!' ejaculated Mr. Carroch.
' Why, so they have, and it not six o'clock
yet! I'll be at the bottom of this before I am
much older.'
' Perhaps your watch is slow ?' suggested
Mrs. Carroch.
' Mother, look what lots of blaeberries I've
got!' cried George Carroch, rushing into the
parlour. ' Such whoppers !—larger than black
currants. Haven't I had a jolly tuck-in at
them to-day!'
' That fact is patent to the naked eye,
Geordie,' said Mr. Carroch, laughing.
'Do you know Tib and Clova have come
back, and they've brought a tinker with them,
and he's playing the violin in the stackyard ?'
shouted Peter.
' Oh, they're back, are they ?' said Mrs.
Carroch ; ' I am glad they're safe.'
' You'll make jam out of the berries, mother ?'
s
continued George; ' there's enough for several
pints. We'll have such puddings in the winter.
Goloptious!'
' And I saw an eel eating a bird up Noran
24
TIB.
Water, and I cut off its head with my penknife,'
observed Peter.
'Whose head?' said George irreverently,
—' the eel's or the bird's ?'
e The eel's, of course,' responded Peter.
' The birdie's in the inside of the eel, though.
Would you like to see the eel moving about
without his head %'
'No, I shouldn't,' replied Mrs. Carroch.
' Peter, you are very cruel, I am afraid. You
must not do such things.'
' I wasn't any crueller than the eel,' remon-
strated Peter. ' Indeed, not so cruel, for if I
hadn't killed the eel, he would have eaten
many more birds. I didn't kill any more
than one eel.'
' Now, Peter, you'll go and tidy yourself,
and not try to threep down your mither.
Not a word ; not another word. As for you,
George, you're enough to frighten the French
with that blue face of yours. Away you go,
both of you.'
'Never mind, Peter; we'll talk it over
afterwards, when mother has time,' said
Mrs. Carroch, laying her hand softly on his
shoulder. ' Give the fish and blaeberries to
TIB.
25
Marget to put in the larder. You can ask Tib
for the groceries, and if the parcel is not too
heavy for both of you to carry, bring it
here.'
4Preserve me!' exclaimed Mr. Carroch, as
the boys took their departure, 4 why does not
Tib come in with the messages ?'
' She'll be listening to the violin,' said Mrs.
Carroch. ' You can hear it over here. Who-
ever is playing is a real musician.'
' Ay, sure enough, one can hear the music
quite plainly. The shearers will be dancing
next, as sure as I am alive !'
'There'll not be much dancing to that tune,
master; it is more like drawing the tears to
one's eyes.'
Mr. Carroch went out at the front door,
where the warm soft air met him like a blast
out of a hot oven. The farm buildings and
stackyard were not far from the trim, white-
washed, blue - slated house. Tib and Clova
were standing in the stackyard. Tib had just
unyoked the horse, and was about to lead him
into the stable, while Clova was busy with the
packages amongst the straw. On the lowest
of the stone steps conducting to the corn-loft,
2 6
TIB.
Ericht Yule was seated. His violin was
tucked under his chin, and he was playing the
4 Flowers o' the Forest' with such sweetness
and pathos that Mr. Carroch stood still, like
the motley crowd of farm labourers and
harvesters, entranced with the divine music.
Mr. Carroch had entered the stackyard with
the intention of reproving the shearers for
quitting the harvest-field before the proper
time for leaving off work had arrived; but
his reproaches died upon his lips, for he
had never heard such wonderfully wild and
pathetic notes as the young man was pro-
ducing by means of his simple instrument.
There is in some music a strange appeal
beyond the reach of words. Mr. Carroch was
not an imaginative or emotional man, rather
the reverse, but he was thrilled beyond power
of speech by the playing of the poor itinerant
musician. He was familiar enough with the
'Flowers o' the Forest/ and often whistled
the tune when feeling particularly cheerful;
but Ericht Yule infused new meaning into the
O
well-known melody, making the violin speak,
as it were, of the misery of a strong soul's
deep despair.
TIB.
27
A great stillness had fallen upon the men
and women. They stood spellbound, listening
to the enchanting sounds; and when Yule
paused, the faint twitter of a small bird
perched on a paling at some little distance
was distinctly audible. Presently some of
the audience felt in their pockets for some
current coin of the realm, but failed to find
any, even coppers. Most of the shearers were
not burdened with this world's goods, and as
the harvest had only recently begun there
had been no payments made as yet; while
the farm labourers in that lonely part of the
country, having no temptations to spend
money, were not in the habit of carrying it
about with them. Mr. Carroch succeeded,
after some fumbling, in discovering sixpence
in silver. To his surprise, Ericht Yule, weak
and worn-out as he was, flushed red, and
declined the money.
41 didn't play for gain,' he said; c it was
merely to amuse myself a little.'
' Oh, indeed !' replied Mr. Carroch. c Then
I'll keep my sixpence.'
c He's travelled frae Fernlea to speir at ye
anent something,' said Tib hastily.
28
TIB.
' Well, I can hear what he wants presently.
Have you got the messages, Tib ?'
'Yes, sir. There's the corn plaisters frae
the druggist's that ye bade me bring, for ye
said ye were extraordinar' annoyed wi' corns
the noo; an' a bottle o' hair-oil for the laddies;
an' a packet o' tea, the second-best kind for
everyday use, an' a smaller quantity o' the
very extra quality for company; an' there's
patterns o' new summer goons for the mistress ;
and Clova matched the worsted for yer new
stockings; an' there's a box o' pills—the
usual kind, same as before; an' the magazines
wi' the latest fashions; an' the beer, an' the
sugar for the jelly; an' the mairchant's sorry
he forgot to send the things, but he'd lost the
order line; an' there's the shearers' rolls frae
the baker, an' he hopes ye'll excuse the
trouble he's pitten ye to in sending to Fernlea
at sic a busy time; an' I think that's aboot
a'thing.'
'That's right. The shearers' porridge is
almost ready in the porridge-house for dishing.
Oman Little and Donald Bain will take it to
the field, where the shearers had better return
in the meantime.'
TIB.
29
Mr. Carroch took Tib and Clova aside for
a moment.
4 Who is this man %' he asked.
'A wandering tinkler whom Tib found at
the bottom of the Long Brae,' said Clova
saucily. ' Tib thinks he's a king in disguise.
King o' the Tinklers, say I !'
CHAPTER III
R. CARROCH turned to Ericht Yule.
The latter had not attempted to
rise, for the excellent reason that
he was incapable of such an exertion. The
violin had fallen upon his knees, and the bow
hung limply between his inert fingers.
' What's wrong with you ?' asked Mr.
Carroch roughly, though not without some
kindness in his tone.
He could not help being slightly interested
in the man who had the strength of mind to
refuse that piece of clear, shining silver.
Hitherto he had never encountered anybody
above accepting remuneration for his handi-
craft. And was not playing the violin as
much a trade or business as ploughing a field
or stacking corn ? Of course, if the wandering
30
musician refused payment he had justly
earned, it was his own look-out.
' I suppose I am hungry,' said Yule faintly,
yet with a certain proud half-resentfulness.
' That's apt to be the case when a man has
eaten nothing for nearly three days.'
' Then why didn't you take the sixpence ?'
' I am not a beggar—at least, not yet. I
played for my own pleasure, not knowing that
anybody was near, until suddenly I looked up
and saw a crowd round me. They seemed to
like the music, so I finished the tune.'
' No food for nearly three days ! Tib, lass !
Tib !'
%
Through the steamy atmosphere with which
the dark interior of the low-roofed porridge-
house was filled, the tall figure of Tib Shiel
the out-worker was only indistinctly visible.
She was standing beside the copper, the lid
of which had been removed, and she was
stirring the scalding porridge with a large
wooden pole, clean and polished with much
use.
A red glow from the furnace fire was
diffused over the floor, upon which some
scarlet embers fell occasionally. From time
32
TIB.
to time Tib dipped her hand deep down into
a sack of oatmeal, making a little shower of
white dust, as the fine powder sank into the
boiling mass in the copper. A pile of empty
wooden bickers lay beside several large tin
cans, filled to the brim with creamy milk, still
frothed with bubbles, fresh from the cow. A
sleek black cat, with white satin tips to its
dusky, velvet - shod paws, was looking on
lazily. From Ericht Yule's seat on the stone
step, he could see the movements of Tib,
as the whirling, bluish-greyish steam curled
round her, encircling her head with a wreath
of mist-like vapour, or indicating the outline
of the shoulders, or obliterating her entirely
from view for the nonce. As she stood armed
with the long pole, and surrounded by the
smoke from the cauldron, she reminded Ericht
Yule of a young beautiful witch bending over
a mysterious concoction of herbs, with which
she was about to compound some powerful
and deadly love philtre.
' Tib, woman, run to the mistress and ask
her for a tumbler of milk, and—stay—tell her
to put half a wine-glass of brandy in it.
Be quick !'
TIB.
33
Mr. Carroch's commands were speedily
executed. Tib returned in a short time with
a tumbler of milk and some biscuits. Yule
drank the milk greedily, but did not seem to
care much about the food. Mr. Carroch
regaxded him attentively. Like Tib, he did
not think that Yule was a tinker. There was
an air of respectability about the young man,
and he wore the ill-fitting suit of light tweed
clothes as though he were accustomed to the
best habiliments that could be made. Then
without doubt he was an exquisite musician.
With such a talent he ought not to lack
employment.
4 Is the porridge boiled enough ?' asked Mr.
Carroch.
4 Ay, sir, they're ready.'
4 Then haud the bickers to Tib, Oman, and
she will fill them. Mind and watch the horse.
Eemember how it bolted down the Long Brae
last autumn, and all the bickers were flung
out on the road, and the cart smashed to
atoms.'
4 I'll pay attention,' replied Oman.
4 Haud the bicker straight,' said Tib ; 4 ye'll
burn yersel', Ornan. The porridge is hot.'
c
34
TIB.
' Like love,' responded Little in an under-
tone; 4 but ye're a lump o' snaw, an ken
naething aboot love/
4 That's a fine compliment,' laughed Tib.
hope it'll no' turn my heid: Men think
that women and cats are the same. Stroke
the pussy an' she purrs; praise a woman an'
she smiles.'
'Not always. Whiles one gies a scratch
that draws the heart's best blood, leaving a
poisonous wound that never heals.'
Oman Little, a very tall man, who indeed
enjoyed the distinction of being the tallest
man in the district, so that his surname
sounded decidedly incongruous, duly placed
the bickers of smoking porridge in the cart,
and went off slowly to the harvest-field,
accompanied by Donald Bain, the dismissed
orra man, carrying flagons of milk.
'Can't you eat?' asked Mr. Carroch, of
Yule.
4 Not just at present,' he answered.
4 Well, what have you got to say to me ?'
want you to give me some -.kind of
work,' said Ericht Yule.
4 Why, what kind of work could you do
TIB.
35
about a farm ?' ejaculated Mr. Carroch. 'Those
white hands of yours could not hold the
plough, or shear corn, or finger the handle of
a spade. You're a grand player on the violin,
but that's all you're good for. Go to a large
town and get an engagement in an orchestra.'
' I only play by ear. My music is use-
less for pecuniary purposes. I must have
work if I am to live. I am willing to work,
I don't care at what; I'm not particular. I
have walked from Fernlea to ask you to make
me your orra man. There was an advertise-
ment in the Fernlea Observer. I spent the
last penny I had in buying the paper.'
' My orra man ?'
' Yes, your orra man.'
' But what do you know of farm work ?'
' Nothing.'
' And where are your references for cha-
racter, and what is your name, may I ask ?'
' I can give you no reference; I have
nobody to speak a good word for me. My
name is Ericht Yule.'
4
' Ericht. Yule !' repeated Mr. Carroch mus-
ingly. ' Ericht Yule! Do you come from
the far North country, then ?'
3«
TIB.
' Yes; but that's neither here nor there.'
' Do you expect me to take you as my orra
man without character, and without any
previous knowledge of the work ?'
41 could learn,' said Yule, with sudden
eagerness. 4 You would not find me slow. I
could put my mind to it.'
' What I want to know is why you are out
of a situation at present ?' asked Mr. Carroch.
' You were not surely brought up to idleness,
and must have been taught some trade ?'
4 Yes, I was brought up to a business. Why
I have left it is my own affair.'
'Not now,' replied Mr. Carroch. 'When
you apply for my employment, the reason you
have quitted your former master becomes of
interest to me. It is my affair as well as
yours.'
'Yes, I can easily see that you have always
»
been prosperous. It is hard when you have
the power and the wish to work, and you
cannot get anything to do; when nobody
wants you, and every door is shut in your
face; when you feel there is no place for you
in the whole wide world, and not a single
soul that would care though you were to die
TIB.
37
this moment. But I expect you don't know
what that means. You have always been
prosperous.'
' Oh, moderate—very moderate. These are
trying times for farmers, and what with the
rent and the bad seasons I've had as much as
I could do to keep my head above water.'
' But you never knew what it is to sleep
out by the roadside because you'd only a
penny in your pocket between you and
starvation. You've always had plenty to eat,
and a comfortable bed to lie on, and a warm
fireside to sit at.'
4 And why are you in such straits ?' ex-
claimed Mr. Carroch testily. ' I don't believe
in men being out of work unless through
their own fault. Depend upon it, they have
themselves to blame if they are out of employ-
ment. There is plenty for everybody to do,
if they would be troubled. But they are lazy,
or drunken, or want tremendous wages for
wasting their time.'
Ericht Yule rose from his lowly position on
the stone steps, and leaned against the wall
of the barn. He folded his arms across his
chest, and looked first at the empty tumbler
38 TIB.
and then at Mr. Carroch. There was a gleam
of humour in his dark eyes.
4 I have done nothing to be ashamed of,
Mr. Carroch.'
4
He spoke quietly, yet with great earnest-
ness.
4 How can I tell that ?' asked Mr. Carroch.
41 have only your word.'
4 Well, it is natural that you should require
references and that sort of thing,' said Yule.
41 cannot give them. Maybe in your place,
master of the position^ I would do the very
same. Who knows ? Jfo doubt you look
upon me as a suspicious character, and
appearances are against me. Forby, I must
allow that I came here to be out of reach of
the folk with whom I was once acquainted.'
4 But you are ignorant of the duties of an
orra man. They differ somewhat on every
farm. At Eskmains the orra man has to
manage the garden, go messages, look after
horses and cattle occasionally, be able to
take a hand at the plough if required, and
help with all that may chance to be going
on.'
4 Then it is not a sinecure by any means ?'
TIB. 3 9
4 Sinecure ! Do you fancy I employ men
to stand idle and play themselves ?'
4 It would suit me down to the ground.
The more work the better for me.'
4 Hem ! Work, indeed ! You look much
more like going into an hospital for the
remainder of your days. The wage'—
4 We wouldn't fall out about the money.'
4 Ah, I was merely stating what was ex-
pected of the orra man. I regret having
raised your hopes, but I could not possibly
have an individual about the premises who
could not give an account of himself, and the
reason he left his former occupation, whatever
that may have been.'
4 Ay, it's a black, burning sin to be poor
and down in the world ! I never understood
before what a terrible curse poverty is to a
man.'
41 am not quarrelling with you for being
poor,' said Mr. Carroch.
'Are you as hard to please with the cha-
racters of the shearers ?' inquired Yule.
' That is a different question. The shearers
are only here for a few weeks at the longest.
The orra man is a permanency; therefore it
4°
TIB.
is necessary that he should be a decent
body.'
Ericht Yule moved a step or two forward,
and relinquished his attitude of extreme in-
dolence and listlessness. He and Mr. Carroch
were left entirely to themselves. Tib Shiel
was busy at the draw-well winding a bucket
of water from the cool, dark depths below ;
and Clova had gone to the harvest-field to
assist in the distribution of the porridge and
milk. Yule looked round about the place.
Close to the almost empty stackyard was a
meadow, with a rough gate of fir poles thrust
into niches cut out in the lichen-stained,
pointed stone side-posts. Several cows were
assembled at the gate. With the mellow light
behind them in the sun-streaked meadow,
they formed a picturesque group of shaggy
heads. The murmur of many voices came
from the shearers in the corn-field, as they
waxed merry over their evening meal. Long
shadows were falling from the empty rick
frames and the uneven row of cottages behind
the steading, wdiere the married farm labourers
lived. Low, white - washed buildings they
were, golden moss adorning the dark blue
TIB.
4i
slated roofs, currant bushes growing up the
walls, and bindweed, with big pale - pink
blossoms, climbing round the doorways, and
hanging in great leafy festoons round the
lintel.
'This is a quiet spot,' said Yule involun-
tarily.
1
'Yes, we are not much troubled with the
pomp and vanities of the world at Eskmains.'
' I'm pretty tough,' went on Yule, ' but
another three days such as I have lately
passed through would finish even me. I
must have work somehow, and I'm owing you
for the milk and brandy. Let me shear in
the field with the rest to-morrow morning.
I'll get my debt paid then.'
Mr. Carroch could not prevent a smile
breaking across the austerity of his counte-
nance. He was slightly touched by Ericht
Yule's indomitable perseverance, and acknow-
ledged that there might be good stuff in him.
But for all that, Mr. Carroch was determined
he would on no account be prevailed upon to
instal him in the vacant position of orra man
at Eskmains, unless Yule produced credentials
certifying the respectability of his past.
42 TIB.
' Well, yon can have one day's work to-
morrow. That'll provide you with food, and
something over and above in the way of
money. The mistress will send you a shearer's
blanket, and you can sleep in the barn where
the shearers hired especially for the harvest
sleep. You'll be paid your wages in the
evening, and you can go whither you will
afterwards. My number of shearers is made
up, so I shall have no further need of your
services after to-morrow.'
CHAPTER IV.
UST facing the west in the garden at
Eskmains was a rustic wooden seat,
where Mr. Carroch was wont to sit
with his wife and smoke the pipe of peace on
fine summer evenings.
The Carroch hoys had been sitting on the
seat with Clova Shiel, amusing themselves
with blowing soap bubbles, but they had gone
✓
away to eat gooseberries at the end of the
garden, leaving her alone. Filling a clay pipe
with the preparation, she pursed up her red
lips, puffing out her cheeks like those of a
chubby cherub's, and blew a splendid, large,
glittering bubble, which floated triumphantly
on to a sunflower, where a bee was busy
working. In another instant the rainbow,
shining, fragile fabric burst, to the consterna-
44
TIB.
tion, not to say disgust, of the bee. With an
indignant buzz, the angry insect flew from
the sunflower, and, settling upon Clova's white,
dimpled wTrist, imprinted a sharp sting. She
dropped the pipe she had been using into the
basin, and brushed the bee from her upon the
ground.
'What is it, Clova?' said Gordon Brandreth;
' are you in trouble ?'
' Oh, Maister Brandreth !' exclaimed Clova,
' I didna expect to find you here. When did
you come ?'
' I have been wandering about the garden
for more than half an hour/ replied Brandreth.
' Mrs. Carroch asked me to supper, but wThen
I knocked at the door, nobody answered, so I
took the liberty of waiting here.'
' The mistress is seeking oot a blanket for
the tinkler Tib has brocht to Eskmains, an'
the rest are oot o' the hoose the noo. Oh,
4
that bee has hurt me terrible !'
' Has the bee left its sting behind ?' asked
Brandreth. ' If not, it will soon heal.'
dinna ken,' replied Clova, her lips
quivering, and her eyes filling with tears.
She was totally unaccustomed to bearing pain
TIB. 45
of any description, and was quite upset by the
novel experience. 4 There is fearful stounds
ganging up my arm.'
e Shall I look whether the sting has been
left ?' asked Brandreth.
Clova meekly pushed back the sleeve from
her white round arm, while Brandreth, sitting
down on the rustic seat, gravely inspected
the wound made on the tender flesh by the
treacherous bee. Perhaps he was somewhat
longer in his investigation than was absolutely
necessary. Clova, however, did not appear to
object. She glanced up at him shyly.
4 Yes, the sting is there. I will take it out,
if you will let me. Come, that does not hurt,
does it ?'
Clova winced a little, in spite of Brandreth's
reassuring words. But she was ashamed to
complain any more of suffering. Brandreth
seemed to think the sting a trivial matter,
and, of course, he must be right. Clova
believed implicitly in the schoolmaster. In
her eyes he was a miracle of knowledge and
general superiority. He was a good-looking
man of about thirty years of age. His features
were aquiline, his hair light brown, his eyes
46
TIB.
blue; and he wore a carefully trimmed mous-
tache and beard. There was a certain air of
importance about him which had great weight
with the rural population of the district. He
was credited with the possession of excellent
abilities, besides the reputation of being 4 a
grand hand at bringing forward the bairns.'
His detractors—what man worth any thing has
110 enemies ?—alleged that Gordon Brandreth
was conceited. Probably it was not wonderful
that the schoolmaster had a good opinion of
himself. Hitherto everything had gone well
with him. His school had always received
capital reports, and under his teaching the
number of scholars had largely increased.
With the exception of those few captious in-
dividuals who declared that he thought more
' highly' of himself than he ought to do, he
was invariably regarded by his acquaintances
as the embodiment of wisdom.
Brandreth was not ignorant of the high
estimation in which he was generally held.
He accepted the agreeable truth as only his
right, but he had no intention of ending his
days at Yalros. He was conscious of talent,
and he considered that a man of his mental
TIB
47
calibre and personal appearance was buried alive
in that out-of-the-way place. He was full of
ambitious plans for rising in the world. Why
should he always remain a common country
schoolmaster ? Thomas Carlyle once taught
the youngsters of the ' lang toon' of Kirkcaldy,
but that fact did not prevent him from leaving
a name upon the deathless roll of fame. And
what had been accomplished by the genius
and dogged perseverance of the rugged Carlyle,
could surely be attained by Gordon Brandreth.
However, as Brandreth sat between the
sunflower plants, his thoughts were not fixed
upon the golden future awaiting him in the
coming years, but upon something more inter-
esting for the moment—the pretty girl at his
side, Clova Shiel.
c How are you getting on with Sartor
Resartus f' he asked.
He infused a considerable amount of warmth
into the tone of his voice. Without absolutely
intending it, he always spoke to a woman,
especially a pretty woman, in the most de-
ferential manner possible, and as though
she were the sole object and end of his
existence.
48
TIB.
'1 dinna understand it,' said she roguishly.
'The only bit I cared aboot was where the
Professor ate his supper on the tap o' the
dyke. Tib says it's maistly aboot claes, but I
didna find a description o' a bonnie goon in
a' the book.'
' You don't approve of Sartor, then ?' re-
marked Brandreth, laughing. ' Did Tib read
it?'
'No, it was terrible dull; but Tib whiles
tried it. She's fond o' reading, an' said she
likit it fine.'
Brandreth had been playing idly with the
clay pipes and soap suds left behind by the
Carroch boys. Presently he set to work in
good earnest, and blew a glorious bubble, like
a big opal, to Clova's unfeigned admiration.
' Ye're aye that clever !' she said.
' There, that resembles the life of a man,'
said he; ' begun in the midst of brilliant
aspirations, and ending in bitter disappoint-
ment. The bubble's burst, as so many bright
dream-bubbles burst, leaving only a thin film
of froth behind, soon to disappear utterly and
for ever. How silly I am, to sit blowing soap
bubbles as though I were a small boy ! Clova,
TIB.
49
where is the ring I gave you? Why don't
you wear it ?'
4 The ring's lockit past i' my kist at hame.
How can I wear it when Tib wad be wanting
to ken wha gie'd me the ring ?'
4 The ring is useless if you never wear it.
You should tell her it was the gift of a friend.'
4 Ay, but what freend hae I except yer-
sel' that could gie me a ring like yon ? She
wad aye be thinking whatna freend it could
be.'
%
41 scarcely ever see you,' went on Brandreth.
41 thought you were coming to the school yes-
terday afternoon to practise your songs for
the Penny Reading.'
4 Tib wadna let me,' replied Clova. 4 She
said'— Clova stopped short, and flushed
deeply.
4 Upon my word, Tib seems a very deter-
mined young woman!' exclaimed Brandreth.
41 think she is afraid of me.'
4 Oh, she's no' feared for ye. Tib's feared
for naebody. She canna bide the sicht o' ye,
that's what it is. She says she disna like ye
ava.'
4 Doesn't like me—can't bear the sight of
D
5°
TIB.
me ?' repeated Brandreth, in blank astonish-
ment. ' What did I ever do that she should
detest me ? I don't believe I have ever spoken
to her since I came to Valros.'
4 She has nae ill-will at ye,' continued Clova,
4 but she declares it gars her lauch to see the
way ye walk along, as though the haill earth
was yer ain. An' she thinks ye're an' awful
cratur for making fules o' the lassies. When
she speaks that gait, I burn to tell her I
ken different. Will it be lang afore I can
do that ?'
41 don't know,' said he impatiently. 4 After
all, Clova, you have nothing to say. We are
not engaged. Our agreement was that we
were to be free, so that if either of us wished
to change our minds we were at perfect liberty
to do so. I have a horror of feeling myself
bound in any way, especially for a lengthened
period.'
41 ken ye hae,' answered Clova blankly.
4 Don't look so downcast, darling,' pursued
Brandreth; 41 could not love you better were
we engaged a thousand times over. As soon
as my affairs take a favourable turn, I will
marry you.'
TIB. 51
'Then ye didna get the ither schule ye
tried for ?'
' No; after all, a local man was appointed.
You comprehend, dear, that my heart is
yours, although were you to find somebody
you cared more for, I would not hold you to
your bargain ?'
' I could never do that,' said she.
' No ; I have the utmost confidence in your
fidelity, and so you should have in mine.
You will be "tender and true" to the end,
and so shall I be to you.'
'You were annoyed-like about Tib,' pro-
ceeded Clova anxiously. ' I wish I hadna
said naething.'
Brandreth gave an uneasy laugh. He was
indescribably nettled at hearing Tib's uncom-
plimentary opinion of him. It is seldom
pleasant to be told that any person, no matter
how humble in rank, entertains a contempt
for one. Dislike may be endured with equa-
nimity, but ridicule and disdain are always
keen weapons with which to inflict wounds.
And Brandreth was especially susceptible to
the subtle flattery of popularity.
' Oh, it does not signify what Tib thinks of
52
TIB.
me,' he said at length. 4 Grirls often talk non-
sense. Has Tib got a sweetheart ?'
' Tib's far ower gude to take up her mind
wi' sic-like havers as sweethearts,' said Clova
gaily. 4 She micht hae had plenty, an' she
cared. But Tib carries her heid high, an' looks
at naebody.'
' At any rate, here is a pretty little individual
who values your humble servant to a certain
extent,' said Brandreth, with a smile.
Clova looked up mischievously at Brandreth,
and then she contemplated the red mark upon
her wrist caused by the sting of the bee. She
had taken off her hat, and the warm sunlight
fell soft and yellow upon her fair hair and
dainty figure. For an instant her countenance
clouded over, and she became very pensive.
This was because she had discovered that
the pink roses in her hat were faded, having
turned almost white during the long hot
drive in the cart to Fernlea. She remem-
bered that Tib had advised her against
purchasing the pink flowers, as Tib was
always in favour of economy. But Brand-
reth thought she was lamenting the pain of
the sting.
TIB.
53
' Does it throb very much ?' he asked.
'Poor, pretty arm ! Did the nasty, wicked
bee sting it ? Perhaps that was the bee's way
of stealing a kiss ?'
' It's a mercy it's no' the custom wi' us folk,'
answered Clova.
r
' Kissing would be rarer than now, would it
not ?' replied Brandreth. 4 You sweet little
poem in pink! do you think this would help
to heal the sting ?'
He stooped down and pressed his lips
tenderly upon Clova's arm. As he did so,
there was a tap on the parlour window, and a
cheery voice called out his name, indicating
that his presence in the garden had become
known to some of the inmates of the house.
Brandreth recovered himself directly. Clova
was as often in the garden at Eskmains as
at the cottage where the two sisters resided.
He knew no person would be astonished at
seeing the girl there. She had formerly been
a pupil of his, and nothing could be more
natural than that he should retain a kindly
interest in her welfare, and speak a few words
of greeting when they met.
He and Clova walked along the narrow
54
TIB.
paths edged with box, where the snails found
comfortable shelter in the winter.
4 Only have patience, darling,' he whispered
as they entered the house, 4and all will be
well.'
4 Oh, poor Clova! exclaimed Mrs. Carroch,
on hearing the history of the sting; 4 is it
very painful ?'
4 That it is,' said Clova dolefully.
4 Eub it with honey or washing-blue,' said
Mrs. Carroch.
4 A sting from a bee is a serious thing,' ob-
%
served Peter solemnly. 41 once saw a woman
stung by a bee. The sting was above the eye,
which swelled up big as a turnip. The doctor
had to make an incision ; and there she was,
marked for life, and all in a minute.'
4 But that needn't happen to you, Clova,'
4
remarked Mrs. Carroch kindly. 4 It's only
Peter's impudence. Here's a basket of berries
and a jug of cream for ye. Take them home,
like a lass. Oh, you're welcome—most wel-
come; many's the bit of sewing you've done
for me. And Tib's to get the gleanings of
this field of oats for her fowls.'
41 daresay there never was such a hubble-
TIB.
55
shoo made about a sting before !' continued
Peter.
4 Ah, Peter's a wild laddie, and must mend
%
his manners,' said Mrs. Carroch. 4 Just wait
until he's stung by a bee; my word, we'll all
hear about it then !'
CHAPTER Y.
ERE'S yer blankets, Ericht Yule/ said
Tib. 'Didna ye say that was yer
name ? The maister telt me I was
to show ye wliaur ye're to sleep. It's in here.'
' In here ?' repeated Yule.
' Ay. Ye'll find a warm place at the north
end o' the barn—no' that I hae sleepit there
mysel', but I ken folk that hae. An' the mistress
bade me speir gin ye could eat ony mair ?'
41 have done well,' answered Yule.
'Tib, ye micht come here a while,' called
a woman from one of the farm labourers'
cottages. ' Wee Jeems has ta'en a fit, an' ye're
fine wi' bairns. We've had scarlet fever an'
measles an' the whooping-cough, but we never
had fits i' the family afore. That'—with dis-
tinct pride—'is serious illness.'
56
TIB.
57
'I'm vexed for wee Jeems. Maybe he's
getting his teeth, an' '11 sune be better.'
The shearers had gone to the barn when the
gloaming came on. Men, women, youths,
yonng girls, and children, who had been
obliged to accompany their parents to the
harvest on account of nobody being left at
home to look after them,—all went together to
their night's resting-place. Ericht Yule stood
on the straw-strewn threshold of the barn
without making any attempt to enter. The
night was perfect—clear as the day. The
white sheen of the glittering stars was pale
before the infinite splendour of the full harvest
moon floating like a globe of flame through the
golden-green sky, shining down upon ruined
peel tower and ' haunted cairn,' converting the
most prosaic points of the landscape into some-
thing at once mysterious and beautiful. Part
of the steading was plunged in dark shadow,
while the rest was filled with moonlight.
Ericht Yule was thus rendered a distinct figure
to the gaze of Mr. Carroch and the school-
master, as he chanced to stand where the
silver beams fell full upon him.
4 There's that fellow, Ericht Yule, not gone
5 8 TIB.
to bed yet,' said Mr. Carroch. ' He'll never be
up in the morning to shear.'
' Ericht Yule !' echoed Brandreth. ' I seem
to have heard that name before, but for the
life of me I can't recollect where. Ericht
Yule!'
' Did you never see him before ?'
' Never to my knowledge. Mrs. Carroch was
saying he had applied for the situation of orra
man, but of course you would never employ
such a person.'
' He might turn out a good enough work-
man,' said Mr. Carroch reflectively, ' although
his morals were none of the best.'
' How do you know he is not j ust out
of prison ?' pursued Brandreth. 41 wouldn't
have a character of that description about the
place on any account. I should think it would
make Mrs. Carroch quite nervous in case he
should murder you all in your beds.'
Mr. Carroch bit his lip impatiently. The
last thing that he could tolerate with calmness
was interference in any wTay about the farm.
He walked amidst the work-people truly master
of all he surveyed. No order of his was ever
%/
questioned; he was always implicitly obeyed
TIB. 59
Brandreth irritated him by his well-meant
advice. The objections raised by Brandreth
had at once occurred to him, and he had refused
to engage Yule. But since Brandreth had
meddled with what did not concern him, the
spirit of obstinacy awoke in Mr. Carroch, and
he began to think that Yule might not do so
badly as orra man. Owing to his inexperience,
he might be contented with smaller wages. If
the worst came to the worst, Yule could be
dismissed. Mr. Carroch was not going to be
dictated to by Gordon Brandreth.
4 Good-night!' said Mr. Carroch. ' You'll
have a delightful walk home through the
fields.'
Meanwhile, Yule was taking in the bearings
of his surroundings. Many of the shearers
were Irish, only a few hailing from the manu-
facturing town of Fernlea. Hardly any
questions were put to him, the curiosity which
animated the quiet country folks not troubling
these wandering tribes of Ishmael. Those who
did make inquiries were quite satisfied with
the simple information that he had lost his
employment and was in quest of work. As
nearly all the shearers would find themselves
%/
6o
TIB.
in that pleasing position at the end of the
harvest, they expressed compassion for him,
and hoped he c would fall on his feet before
long/
The only preparation the men and women
made for retiring to rest was to roll themselves
up tightly in their blankets, providing pillows
out of the bundles containing, in most instances,
their entire worldly possessions. Several girls
wrapped small, bright - tinted shawls round
their heads before lying down, while some of
the married women sat up, crooning dreamy
lullabies to their children. Here and there a
tired man or woman fell asleep the moment
their heads touched the ground ; others, again,
lighted their pipes and began talking, carrying
on conversation in loud tones. Ericht Yule
was not so fortunate as the majority in the
respect of being able to utilise his clothing as a
pillow, therefore he was fain to content himself
with his violin case, which proved but a hard
support for his head. Like the shearers, he
was obliged to lie down upon the earthen
floor of the barn.
The moonbeams shone in faintly through
a remote skylight in the granary above,
TIB.
61
approached from the barn by a tall ladder; and
more brightly through the aperture at the top
of the big wooden doors, which did not fit
very tightly into the stone framework. But
Yule was too glad to have secured a night's
lodging under a roof to quarrel with the lack
of luxury in his quarters. True, the next even-
ing would find him on the move again. But
sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, and
there were a good many hours between him
and the next sundown.
Where the moonbeams straggled into the
barn in a broad, shining band of radiance, two
young fellows had seated themselves with a
much-worn, well-thumbed pack of cards, and
began playing some gambling game. The
crown of a hat was made to serve as a table.
As the moon gradually moved along the sky5
the band of light naturally changed its posi-
tion, and the card players shifted their places
accordingly. From where Yule was sitting he
had a view of the players' hands. He was
interested to see how the evil luck of one
player made him invariably choose the wrong
card. Once or twice he was almost inclined
to warn him against a bad choice, but he was
62
TIB.
drowsy and tired, and he fell asleep at last
amidst a noisy argument that had arisen on
the subject of keeping the barn doors closed,
the card players having opened them to let in
more light, as they had made mistakes through
not distinguishing which was king and which
knave, and several of the shearers lying on the
ground naturally objected to the cold air thus
admitted. As time went on, the players ceased
their game. The loud voices were silenced;
even the babies were lulled to rest, and
slumbered peacefully on their mothers' bosoms,
and nothing was heard in the barn save the
deep, regular breathing of the numerous
Sleepers.
' Waken up ! waken up !' cried Oman Little,
shaking Yule violently by the shoulder. 4 It's
half-five o' the clock.'
' That's a pity,' said Yule briefly.
He turned round on his side, and was sound
asleep again directly. Little laughed, but he
did not relinquish his efforts to rouse him.
4 Tib bade me awaken ye,' he said. 4 Ye'll
need to accustom yersel' to early rising gin ye
are gaun to be a farm labourer.'
4 But I shall be dismissed this evening, so I
TIB. 63
needn't bother about learning to get up in the
morning,' replied Yule, smothering a heavy
yawn. 'Oh, I could sleep for hours and
hours I At any rate, I never was fond of
rising with the lark. I am afraid I am a lazy
beggar at the best.'
' That's exactly my opinion,' said Little.
The greater number of the shearers had
arisen, and were loitering about the stackyard
until the signal should be given for proceed-
ing to the harvest-field, but some few girls
remained behind, arranging their long hair
into something like neatness after their
f,
night's repose. They presented a picturesque
appearance in the dim, 4 sun-streaked ' interior
of the tall barn.
Swallows were flitting about under the
lichen-grown eaves, while a complete flock of
black and white water-wagtails alighted on
the roof. The sun had risen some time before,
but its beams were not very strong, although
where the light caught the Noran it was
flashing and sparkling under the sedges and
rushes by its gravelly margin. There was the
stillness and sharpness in the air belonging to
the early dawn. By and by a soft flush of
64 TIB.
rosy brilliance spread over the heavens, ex-
tending over the cold, grey, billowy clouds.
The cottage doors were opened, and smoke
was seen ascending from the chimneys.
Yule began to ponder whether he could
find some water with which to perform his
ablutions. He remembered the draw-well,
and took his way thither. A bucket of water
had just been drawn, and was standing beside
the stone rim of the well.
Yule stooped, and dipped his head and face
into the cool, clear fluid.
As he raised himself from the bucket,
feeling somewhat breathless, he saw Tib Shiel
standing near him. Although he was almost
blinded by the drops of water in his eyes, he
was able to discern that she had gathered a
fresh bunch of dark purple pansies, and was
wearing a dark purple silk handkerchief
knotted round her throat. A wooden yoke,
from which depended two shining tin pitchers,
was slung across her shoulders, and a sharp
sickle, whose blade glittered in the sun's rays,
was placed over one arm. Tib loosened the
silk handkerchief from her neck.
' Tak' this, for want o' a better towel,' she
TIB. 65
said ; e it's saft, at ony rate. I see ye can find
naething to dry yer face wi'.'
' It's too good,' replied Yule.
' Oh no. An' will ye be able for working
the day, think ye ?'
4 I'm all right now,' said Yule, rubbing his
face vigorously. 4 Oh, I'll go through with
the best of you.'
' The stranger's no' ill at blawing his ain
trumpet,' remarked Oman Little, as he came
out of the stable, where, with several of the
other ploughmen, he had been attending to
the horses. 41 wadna say that he's telling a
lie, no' for the world; but ye ken, Tib, he's
desperately economical 0' the truth.'
Yule laughed good-naturedly.
' Ilka body thinks their ain doo the whitest,'
remarked Tib slowly. ' Sma' blame to them,
either.'
' I am afraid your pretty handkerchief is
spoiled for its former use,' said Yule. ' I
have crumpled it dreadfully; besides, it has
got wet with the water.'
4 Oh, that disna matter,' replied Tib.
' Then may I keep possession of it until I
can get you another ?'
E
66
TIB.
4 Oh, as lang as ye like,' said Tib carelessly.
1 Dinna put yersel' aboot buying anither; I
can dae fine wanting it. I thocht ye wad
require a sickle gin ye were shearing the day,
an' this is a fell sharp ane.'
4 I wadna hae the sickle, Yule,' said Little.
4 Cauld steel parts w^rm hearts, that's weel
kenned.'
41 think I'll chance that,' answered Yule.
4 Ay, the sickle has a sharp edge. Are you
going to draw water for the porridge ? I'll
let down the bucket into the well for you.'
4 Ay, I mak' the porridge in harvest-time
for the shearers ; it's a help to the mistress.'
Tib stood gazing down beyond the circle of
green fern leaves fringing the mossy stone
coping of the well, as Yule set to work with
some vigour, and brought up the old wooden
bucket brimming over with water.
' Keek into the draw-well,
My jo, Janetie,
An' there ye'll see yer bonnie sel',
My jo, Janetie,'
quoted Little.
4 By my faith, a vera gude an' cheap
looking-glass too,' said Tib.
TIB.
67
At this juncture the oldest farm labourer
in Mr. Carroch's employment led the way
into the harvest-field, a privilege granted
willingly by the rest of the men. The re-
maining portion of the oats to be reaped was
divided into lots, certain of which were cut by
the scythe ; but the residue was left to be
shorn with the sickle. Mr. Carroch had no
reaping-machine. There were several used on
the farms nearest Fernlea, but at heart Mr.
Carroch was a Conservative. He was reluctant
to make changes in his farming, and always
put off the purchase of a reaping-machine
until another season.
Yule did not suppose that shearing corn
would be either difficult or extraordinary
work. He was refreshed by his sleep in the
barn, although his joints were rather stiff
from lying on the earthen floor, but he was in
comparatively good spirits at having secured
definite employment for one day. No doubt
he was weakened by the privations he had
undergone, extending over a period of many
weeks. Still, he had never imagined what
a back-breaking, maddening sort of labour
cutting very short oats in the heat of a
68
TIB,
broiling August day can be. As the day
wore on, the fierceness of the sun's rays seemed
to concentrate itself on that particular part of
the field where he was shearing, as though
followed by a burning-glass, and he regarded
enviously the admirable condition of Little
and Donald Bain. Of course they were warm,
and, like Yule, were working in their shirt
sleeves ; still, they were not oppressed as he
was. The continual stooping made all the
blood in his body rush to his temples, and it
appeared to him that the veins in his head
must burst if he, did not stop for a short
interval.
4 Oh, you're there, Yule ?' said Mr. Carroch,
walking along slowly. 4 You have not made
a moonlight flitting, then ?'
'No; I said I should be glad to learn.'
' Very well. Let's see what kind of a work-
man you can prove yourself.'
CHAPTER VI.
HE hour of noon had arrived, and the
hot and thirsty reapers seated them-
selves on the grassy bank beneath
the wall by the Long Brae. Yule could not
have told how it happened, but he found him-
self sitting beside Tib, under the shade of a
stook of oats. Oman Little and Donald
Bain came and sat down on a couple of newly-
bound sheaves close to Ericht and Tib.
The day was even hotter than its pre-
decessors. The air was filled with countless
little diamond flecks, twinkling and dancing,
reflections of the sunlight upon the dry dust
motes. The yellow straw of the ripened oats,
with the graceful ears hanging from the
sheaves in negligent abundance, formed a
charming setting for the figures of Ericht Yule
7°
TIB.
and Tib Shiel. Behind the stook was an
old blackthorn bush, covered in spring with
whitest blossoms. A little breeze, filled with
sweetness from the purple moors, tossed the
uncut breadths of grain, softly stirring the
' amber - shafted depths' of the corn into
undulating waves and ripples.
4 The maister's in an awfu' ill key/ said
Little. 4 Naething's richt the day/
4 You should have seen what a jintleman
my ould masther was in Oireland/ said an old
Irishman. 4 He'd have a hundred reapers
in the field, and when he went away he never
looked back once to see what we were doing.
He was a jintleman, he was so !'
41 wish we had him here ; he's a hard man,
♦
is Maister Carroch.'
' Sae ye thocht when he put ye awa' frae
being orra man. Donald gaed an' sowed the
Swedish turnips broadcast, an' had the barley
in drills. Lord ! I thocht the maister wad hae
killed Donald when he see'd them.'
Donald shifted uneasily from one foot to
another. He had rosy cheeks and twinkling
eyes, with a gleam of fun and mischief in
them. 4 It's better to mak' mistakes in the
TIB. 71
sowing than to be aye falling in an' oot o'
love like ye, Oman.'
'Weel, I dinna smoke, and I dinna drink,
an' a body maun hae some diversion,' said
Little pleadingly. ' I wad say that Ericht
Yule has never dune onything in the shearing
line afore. Bless me, man, gin we worked
like yon we wadna mak' oot our day. We
wad win through far ower sune.'
' Ye're no' to lauch at him !' exclaimed Tib
indignantly. ' How can he be expected to
shear as weel as the lave o' ye when this is the
first time he has tried it? I mind when I
began the tattie gathering, I thocht my back
wad hae come in twa the morning after, an' I
askit leave to bide at hame, and my mither
said I could an' I pleased, but my faither telt
me to rise up an' work, an' it would be easier
in a whilie, an' at the end o' the week I
hardly felt it.'
4 Are ye gaun to shear this afternoon, Tib ?'
asked Little.
' Ay, for an hour or two. Ericht will need
to learn how to mak' bands for the sheaves.
He'll get a bit rest that way, too. Ericht,
4
Ericht! it's a bonnie name.'
72
TIB.
'Not a very fortunate one, hitherto,' said Yule.
' Weel, I dinna ken,' observed Little. ' Some
folk hereabouts wad think ye gey and lucky.
But then some doited bodies divna ken when
they're weel aff.'
The reapers had resumed work. Yule
lingered a little behind Little and Bain, to
V
receive a lesson from Tib in the art of twisting
knots in the straw bands for holding the
sheaves together. Yule had just finished his
shearer's roll and beer, and had come definitely
to the conclusion that nectar and ambrosia
could not for one instant compare with the
said roll and beer as food. Surely he had
never partaken of a meal with such relish
before! Was the relish furnished by the
unwonted sensation of having earned his
bread by the sweat of his brow, or was it
the proximity of Tib Shiel, or the freshness
of the life in the harvest-field, or the extreme
purity of the air ? Yule could not have
explained wherein the tonic lay, but he felt
his strength renewed, and new powers and
new emotions stirred within him as he regret-
fully finished the last crumb of the dry,
unbuttered roll.
TIB
73
4 Your pansies are withered, Tib.'
4 Ay, the sun's ower hot for them. I was
foolish to gather them. They are easily faded
with the heat.'
4 You must be fond of pansies. I noticed
you were wearing some yesterday.'
4 Did ye ? Ay, I like the dark rich purple
anes best.'
4 I am going away this evening, and maybe
will never see you again. May I keep your
purple handkerchief until I can redeem it with
something you may care for more ? If I make
my fortune in a foreign country, I'll not forget
the girl who was so good to me, and helped me
so kin dly.'
Tib drew herself up with a certain proud
gesture which those well acquainted with her
would have understood to mean that she had
not taken Yule's suggestion in pleasant part.
41 dinna need ony reward,' she said coldly.
4 Ye're no' requiring to think ye're under ony
obligement to me.'
4 But you'll not be any worse for kind
thoughts of you being in my mind when I am
far away across the sea.'
41 may be nane the waur, but I'll no'
74
TIB.
be ony the better,' she returned, with in-
difference.
' May we not be friends ?'
4 Gin ye're leaving sae sune for gude an'
a', it's no' worth yer while making freends.
Besides, a freend is no' made in a moment. I
maun be getting forrard ; time is wearing awa'
while I'm haverin'. Can ye dae the bands
noo ? The maist o' the short oats is shorn, sae
ye'll no' feel the heat sae meikle.'
' I have received such an unexpected chill,
that instead of complaining of heat I would
say I had been suddenly set down into the
middle of the Arctic regions,' said Yule.
He looked reproachfully at Tib. Un-
doubtedly he had remarkably beautiful eyes.
Tib was somewhat conscience-stricken as she
regarded Yule's haggard countenance and
wasted frame, such a contrast to her own
splendid physique and magnificent health.
Yule's appearance was that of the wreck of a
fine young man. Whether this were his own
fault or not, of course she could not tell. But,
at any rate, he was weak and poor; he had
toiled with a quiet determination and perse-
verance in the teeth of his bodily infirmities
TIB.
75
and the scorching sun. Tib knew by ex-
perience what it was to labour under diffi-
culties, and, like a true woman, she appreciated
pluck in any form.
' I dinna ken that I haud wi' sudden freend-
ships an' thae kin' o' sentimental things; they
dinna last weel,' said she. 4 But think what ye
like gin it be a pleasure to ye. But I dinna
see how there can be freendship when there is
only ane to the bargain.'
4 But why should not there be two ? Let
there be two,' cried Yule. 4 Then if'—
' As ye're leaving the nicht,' she interrupted,
' ye can hand in yer blankets at the back door
o' the big hoose.'
Tib walked away, and she did not return to
the shearers.
' There goes the queen o' the harvest-field,'
remarked Little.
' Oh, is that the way the wind blaws ?'
asked Bain.
' I doot the wind may blaw hurricanes, but
it'll never blaw Tib into my arms. Tib's a
pridefu' woman. Clova's far the sweeter lassie
o' the twa.'
' Tib canna look at onybody for thinking o'
76
TIB.
Clova. The like was never seen o' how meikle
4
she's ta'en up wi' her. The man that marries
Tib maun wed Clova as weel.'
4 But Tib can show attention when she
chooses,' said Oman. ' She brocht a cabbage
leaf for the stranger callant to put in his
hat.'
4 It was real mindfu' o' her,' returned Bain.
' But she'd hae dune the same for a sick calf or
a weakly colt.'
' He was a heap cooler wi't, an' felt it a
great relief. Donald, has he let onything oot
whaur he came frae, an' what he was afore
travelling here ?'
4 Never a soond,' replied Bain; 4 an' it's my
belief that he micht bide here till the Day o'
Judgment an' nane o's wad be the wiser anent
him.'
4 Weel, I dinna ken what to mak' o' him.
What is he doing noo ?'
4 Glowering like the deil ower Lincoln!
He's a cautious ane, him ! Gin shearing i' the
field is no' gude eneuch for him, he had better
try anither trade. Gentlefolks should keep to
themsel's, an' no' mix wi' the likes o' us gin
they think we're beneath them.'
TIB.
77
4 Oh, an' he had been the new orra man, an'
lived i' the bothy with the rest o' ye, I believe
ye'd hae gotten on well eneuch wi' him. I
daursay he'd hae been real peaceable, an' made
nae disturbance.'
After standing for a brief period lost in
reflection, Yule attacked the corn with re-
doubled vigour. A sense of desolation and
despondency came over him. It seemed as
though he should never find any resting-place
again. All his efforts to settle down and
O
pursue a quiet employment were frustrated by
some vindictive fatality. For a moment he
was tempted to give up the game in despair,
and accept the inevitable with what courage
he could muster. He did not join in the
merry conversation that buzzed round him.
The reapers were in great spirits as the
lengthening shadows denoted the approach of
evening. All the farm labourers' wives and
children from the steading came into the
field, and the cottages were left to take care
of themselves. Nobody troubled about Ericht
Yule. He was not of them. Indeed, his
morose expression of weary endurance was not
calculated to inspire sympathy. At any rate,
78
TIB.
as Tib had stated with undeniable common-
sense, 4 it was not worth while making
friends when he was going away so soon for
altogether.' His back ached with agonising
pains, his head felt heavy and stupid, his arms
were hot and burning, as though they must
drop out of the socket. But he would work
until he could lift his arms no longer—work
until he fell dead, if necessary. By and by
the laughter and voices of the reapers were no
longer heard. But Ericht Yule never noticed
that he was shearing alone. The reapers had
left off work, for it was sundown again.
4 You're a keen shearer,' said Mr. Carroch.
4 Do you think you will earn a bigger wage by
working so late ? You were engaged for the
day, not to do piece-work. Man, you're losing
the porridge.'
41 didn't know the others had finished.'
4 Well, I am going to pay you your money.
Fifteen shillings a week for an able-bodied
man, with food. Therefore, you receive . . .
Well, you've done your level best, and it must
have been an effort, unaccustomed as you are
to manual labour. Certainly the stubble has
hillocks like the Grampian Mountains, but it
TIB.
79
is going to be ploughed this autumn, so that's
no matter. There's three shillings.'
' I don't want more than my due,' replied
Yule ; ' and I must pay you for the milk and
brandy. I'll take one-and-sixpence.'
6 That allows too large a margin of profit.
No wonder that you have come to want, if you
have been accustomed to fling about money in
such a liberal manner. Sixpence, if you insist
upon it, will more than defray the expense of
the brandy. What are you going to do next,
may I ask ? '
' Walk to Fernlea, and see whether I can
work my passage out to New York on board a
steamer.'
4 And then ? '
Yule shrugged his shoulders.
' Why, I must get work there.'
' Do you fancy work is more plentiful in
New York than at Fernlea, for instance ? Are
the streets of New York paved with gold ?'
' I am sure I can't say.'
' Would anything persuade you to remain
in this country ?'
41 don't think it would be very difficult to
induce me.'
8o
TIB,
' You asked to be my orra man,' said Mr.
Carroch. ' If you are still in the same mind,
you can have the situation. The emoluments
are not large. Being a single man, I should
only give you sixteen pounds in hard cash.
But you would get an excellent agricultural
education, which might be useful to you after-
wards. You would sleep in the ploughmen's
bothy, and take your meals with them. It's a
rough but healthy life, and would cost you
nothing for rent and food. Are you in the
same mind ?'
j
'Yes, I am in the same mind.'
' This is your arles—your engagement fee ;
it binds you to me as my servant for a year.
But as you are being taken on at a broken
time, you are bound to remain here as my
orra man until Martinmas next year. If it
goes against the grain to accept the arles, you
should not have applied for the situation. You
must expect to be treated in every respect
like a common working-man.'
' Done !' said Yule. ' I'm your man, Mr.
Carroch.'
' I suppose you have no luggage, no box to
be brought to the bothy ?'
TIB.
81
4 I've nothing but my violin and the clothes
I'm standing in.'
4 Well, you couldn't have much less. You
will feel awkward without any plainer clothing.
I'll advance you four pounds of your wages,
and you can take Dandy to Fernlea to-morrow,
and buy yourself a new rig-out. Of course
you'll give me a receipt for the money.'
4 Thank you,' said Ericht Yule.
' I make no inquiries regarding your ante-
cedents,' continued Mr. Carroch. ' For what
I know, you may have been the victim of some
unmerited misfortune. But even if the reverse,
you have your chance. Use it to the best
advantage.'
' Thank you,' again said Yule ; ' you could
not have acted more generously towards me.'
p
CHAPTEE VII.
HE school where Gordon Brandreth
taught the children of Yalros was
situated some little distance from
the village. It stood on gently rising ground,
% _
and was sheltered from the blustering west
wind by two big yew trees. Behind were
several fields, and then a pine wood, the land
sloping upwards until it culminated in the
russet heights of Blackcairn.
Both the school and Brandreth's house were
long, low, whitewashed buildings, roofed with
thatch, primitive in the extreme. A peat
stack was erected at the back, to which every
Candlemas morning the boys and girls attend-
ing the school each contributed a peat. The
schoolroom was divided into two apartments,
one of which was higher than the other, and
82
TIB
4
83
served the purpose of a public hall for Valros.
There the mind was certainly instructed at
the expense of the body, for ventilation had
not been studied in the least. The lesser
room at the side was used by those children
who lived at too great a distance to go home
between morning and afternoon school, to eat
their dinners in during the recess; and that
great event, the Flower Show, always took
place in the Valros school.
From an early period in the day zealous
competitors had been arriving with baskets of
flowers and vegetables intended for exhibition.
In many instances cottagers brought gladioli,
carefully shrouded under brown paper shades.
Frequently these flowers had lived beneath
ancient and dilapidated umbrellas for several
days, and had hardly been permitted to be
touched by the light. A tremendous polish-
ing up of apples and washing of potatoes had
been going on in the side-room; but now all
the preparations were ended. The judging of
the exhibits was over; and Gordon Brandreth
was busy decorating a collection of old ink
bottles, containing pansy blooms, with a card
marked with the honour of the first prize, when
84
TIB.
Clova Shiel came into the schoolroom. She
was carrying a bouquet of wild flowers and
grasses, simply yet most artistically arranged.
' So Tib has got the first prize for pansies ?'
said Clova. ' She will be real pleased.'
' She hasn't come with you ?'
' She canna win afore evening. For my
part I dinna care meikle for pansies ; they aye
seem to me kin' o' auld-fashioned, auld-maid
flowers. But Tib likes them better than ony
ither. She says she lo'es to see their funny
faces turned up to the sun. Oh, Gordon, an
awfu' misfortune has happened me !'
' What is it, Clova?' said Brandreth tenderly.
' Is it worse than the sting of the bee ? Shall
I cure it in the same way ? Make haste and
%
tell me while we are alone.'
4 I've lost a stane oot o' the ring ye gie'd
me,' said Clova, blushing, and looking down.
£ Oh, is that all ? I can easily have it re-
placed. Give me the ring, and I will take
it to the jeweller in Fernlea from whom I
bought it.'
' But I've no' got the ring wi' me. I was in
that hurry starting off for the Show that I
forgot to tak' it oot o' my kist. Will I fetch
TIB,
85
the ring to-morrow evening ? Ye said we wad
gang for a walk some time sune.'
' To-morrow is Sunday,' said Brandreth
doubtfully. ' Everybody goes for a walk on
Sunday evenings; it's such a conspicuous
day to be seen walking together. Couldn't
you choose some other evening, Clova ?'
41 doot it'll no' be convenient for me to
come unless to-morrow evening. Miss Car-
negie o' the Hag Moss is to be married afore
lang, an' I'm obliged to be wi' her every day
neist week helping wi' her marriage goon.
But why shouldna we walk thegither on a
Sabbath nicht, as the rest 0' the lads an' lassies
do?'
' Oh, because—because I had rather not,'
replied Brandreth. ' I have no idea when we
can be married, certainly not for several years.
I do not wish attention to be directed to us in
any way.'
'But there's naething wrang in haeing a
sweetheart,' said Clova. ' I dinna see why
folk shouldna ken that we re meaning to be
married. Many a body has to wait a while.'
e I have already explained my reasons,' said
Brandreth, with some irritation. £ Do not ask
86
TIB.
me to go over the old ground again. I
thought you understood the footing on which
we stand with regard to each other, and that
you were contented.'
' I never had a secret frae Tib afore,' went
on Clova, c an' she never had a thocht I didna
share. She wad be prood to hear aboot ye.'
' Now, Clova, what have you promised me,
not once, but many times, that you would do
as I wish, and besides, assuring me that you
were quite happy under the circumstances ?'
' I did promise ye, but I never thocht it wad
hae been sae hard to keep. An' I'm envious
when I see ither sweethearts dandering up
Noran Water an' no' caring a snap o' the
fingers wha sees them. An' I wad fain hae
Tib ken what grand I'm gaun to end.'
' Tib's the last person to have any feeling
for us. I daresay she wouldn't approve of the
affair. She doesn't approve of me, at any rate.
That fact I have on the best authority, your
own.'
' Tib wad fancy ye weel eneuch gin she
kent ye. I'm wanting sair for you and Tib to
be acquent. Ye wad think lots of ane anither
gin ye could meet.'
TIB.
87
' I'm not desirous of that pleasure,' said
Brandreth. ' You must make your choice
between Tib and myself. If you inform Tib
of what has passed between us, and of what
we hope is in store for us in the future, I
shall take it to mean you intend giving
me up.'
Clova was frightened. She turned pale,
and seemed ready to dissolve into tears.
Fortunately she refrained from yielding to
that impulse, for Brandreth was not a man
ever moved by weeping. He considered it
a most unbecoming emotion. Smiles and
laughter and gaiety influenced him much
more than sadness.
4 Oh no, Gordon !' she exclaimed ; ' oh no,
Gordon ! I wad never dae that; I couldna.
Oh, dinna speak sic things !'
' Let well alone, then,' said Brandreth.
' People are coming into the room whom I
know from Fernlea, and I must speak to them.
We'll go for a walk to-morrow evening up
Noran Water.'
' Where shall we meet ?'
' At the Witch's Knowe. I don't think it
is so much frequented as the path under the
88 TIB.
birches. You have not tried for a prize like
Tib, have you ? There is no need, for you are
the fairest flower in the Show yourself.'
Mollified, and once more in her normal
condition of smiles and dimples, Clova took
Brandreth's hint, going to another table to
examine the prize boiled potatoes, which
vegetables in primitive Valros were always
exhibited cooked as well as raw, while her
lover went to receive his acquaintances from
Fernlea. These aforesaid acquaintances con-
sisted of a couple of flashy, loudly-dressed girls
with shrill voices.- Brandreth was immedi-
ately taken possession of by them. He was
quite aware that they were in bad style, and
could not compare in point of looks with Clova
Shiel; but he was flattered by the attention
they paid him, and he was willing enough to
parade up and down the room with them,
listening to their half-laughing, half-sneering
remarks about the Flower Show, and sitting
down with them at intervals upon one of
the forms set about for the comfort of the
visitors.
The little country Flower Show was very
popular in the surrounding district. Being
TIB. 89
held on a Saturday, numbers of people were at
liberty to attend. Everybody with some spare
time at disposal came to the Show, partly
for the sake of seeing the flowers, but mostly
on account of meeting friends, and indulging
in delightful discussions of the latest news
and scandals. The small schoolroom was soon
filled to the door. The day being fine, the
Volunteer Band established itself outside
under one of the yew trees, and there dis-
coursed music, in which the wind instruments
were heard at intervals when the dominant
sound of the big drum was occasionally silent.
Clova did not spend many minutes in
contemplating the potatoes. She tried to
push her way through the crowd to Brandreth,
but found it no easy matter, and was finally
prevented from proceeding farther by a stout
countrywoman, whose portly form effectually
barricaded the narrow passage between the
tables. She had a good deal to say about the
summer bonnet which she had ordered from
Clova, and with which she was not altogether
satisfied, breaking off in her oration, however,
to attack Donald Bain, whom she discovered
munching with infinite enjoyment the scones
90 TIB.
she had sent to the Show. He had spread
them with clover honey from an adjoining
exhibit, and was smacking his lips with much
satisfaction.
' How do ye eat my scones without asking
my leave ?' exclaimed the irate baker and
exhibitor of the scones. ' Wha ever see'd the
like ? And them Highly Recommended, too !'
4 And how do ye challenge me that gait ?'
replied Donald, totally unabashed. ' Didna I
pay fourpence for admittance, an' plenty too ;
plenty too ! An' wasna it to cover all ex-
penses ? I was telt there was refreshments,
an' arena these fine anes ? I just helpit mysel'
to what came first.'
The state of the case was ultimately made
clear to Donald, but he was not in the least
embarrassed by the predicament in which he
had placed himself. He continued marching
along with considerable importance, pinching
the remaining scones between his finger and
thumb to determine their consistency, a pro-
cedure in which he had many earnest disciples,
and criticising the apples and honey somewhat
severely.
' Prizes for honey is perfect nonsense; the
TIB.
9i
bees ought to be rewarded, an' the best prize
ye could gie them wad dae them nae good.
As for them aiples being thocht sae meikle o',
I hae far bonnier anes in my ain kailyard at
hame.'
4 Why didna ye send them, then, Donald ?'
4 Oh, I thocht it better to let thae puir
bodies hae a chance o' a prize for aince,' replied
Donald condescendingly. 41 didna want to
keep a' the best things to mysel'. Folks maun
be encouraged, ye ken, or they'll no' exhibit.'
When at length Clova managed to draw
9
near Brandreth, she was surprised to find him
seated comfortably between the two young
damsels from Fernlea. He did not offer to
rise and let Clova sit down—nor, for that
matter, did he seem even cognisant of her
presence. Had not she addressed him directly
he would certainly have taken no notice of
her. As it was, he paid scant enough attention
to her timid remark.
4 Oh, Maister Brandreth, Donald Bain's
been carrying on sic nonsense wi7 Mistress
M'Dougal's scones,' said she.
4 Oh, indeed !' he answered, bestowing a
formal bow of recognition upon Clova, such as
92
TIB.
he might have accorded a stranger, and de-
liberately turned away to begin chatting with
his companions again. He made no sign
whatever of intending to introduce her.
For a few minutes Clova could not com-
prehend Brandreth's conduct. Often as he
had told her that he did not mean to acknow-
ledge her in public, the reality came upon her
as a most unpleasant revelation. She was the
girl he loved, and yet he was treating her as
though he had scarcely ever spoken to her
before. This was part of the paction between
them, but, although consenting to it, she had
not imagined it would prove so sharp a trial.
If Brandreth did not want to recognise her
when in the presence of strangers, neither
would she recognise him. She was quite as
good as those fashionably-dressed individuals,
with their frizzled hair and high - heeled
shoes.
Oh, how Clova longed to have walked up
and down the schoolroom leaning on Brand-
reth's arm, to have shown that he belonged to
her! His decision to keep the understanding
between them a secret might be prudent, but,
like many excellent medicines, it was most
TIB,
93
unpalatable to take. Why should not they be
engaged like ordinary mortals, and then she
could have worn her turquoise ring in the
light of day ?
For her part, Clova could not see much
distinction between being engaged and the
position she occupied towards Brandreth. In
her heart of hearts she did not truly sym-
pathise with his deeply-rooted aversion to being
fettered by a promise. He had assured her
that for him her charm would flee should he
feel obliged to fulfil a pledge, that a long en-
gagement destroyed all freshness of sentiment,
that while nothing caused him to yearn to
break its bonds he was more bound by the
unwritten law of honour than though he had
plighted his troth a thousand times over; but
in reality she was not convinced.
At any rate, he did not feel justified in
marrying on the small salary he received as
schoolmaster at Valros. No doubt he and
Clova could have existed; but then his plans
of taking his degree, and afterwards obtaining
a professorship at one of the universities, would
have been knocked on the head. Marrying on
his present income meant settling down finally
94
TIB.
at Yairos. While he was a single man he
was master of himself and of his future.
Ornan Little, pushing through the throng
just then, and coming up to her, Clova
resolved to let her lover see that he was not
her only admirer. It was unlucky for Clova's
purpose, though, that Brandreth entertained a
contempt for those beneath him in rank. He
was merely surprised that Clova's taste should
be so bad ; while Little wondered 4 what could
be in the wind' that Clova deigned to notice
him. Generally she treated him to the
briefest observations on the weather, but now
she was laughing and talking in the wildest
possible spirits.
Brandreth went to open one of the little
casement windows, and in so doing he passed
Clova, and addressed some careless jesting
words to her. But she merely glanced at him
gravely. Standing on her dignity was some-
thing quite new to Clova. Brandreth only
laughed to himself at her sudden assumption
of pride. He was so sure of the girl that he
knew he could afford to be amused by her fit
of jealousy. He had but to speak, and she
would be too glad to condone his offence.
TIB.
95
e Clova,' lie said, in a low voice,—4 Clova!
I have been bored beyond description this
afternoon.'
4 Have ye ?' she replied.
' Yes ; it has been dreadfully dull.'
' I thought ye seemed real weel pleased,'
she returned, not glancing towards him, but
smiling, as a dimple in the cheek nearest
Brandreth proved. She was melted in a
moment, as he had foreseen. Of course he
must know best. Her better sense told her
that he would not have suggested the course
they were taking had it not been for her
ultimate benefit.
41 wanted to have been with you, but I
could not.'
'Dinna forget,' she said.
4 Forget what ?' he asked.
' Oh, surely ye've no' forgotten sae quickly
our tryst up Noran Water ?'
' Oh no; you must manage that. You're
not going home so soon ?'
4 Ay; it's no' meikle amusement no' being
able to speak wi' ye, an' watching ye wi' that
grand leddy frae Fernlea.'
Brandreth would have remonstrated with
96
TTB.
her, but he was beckoned back into the school
by Mr. Carroch, who had something to say to
him. Clova hurried out of the honeysuckle-
shaded porch.
4 Ye've no' seen the half o' the Flower Show/
said Little entreatingly. 4 Let me tak' ye
roond the room ? The maister has sent the
vera biggest gooseberry ye ever see'd.'
4 I'm never wanting to be at a Flower Show
again !' she cried.
4 An' there's to be a dance when the Show's
ower. I was wanting ye to dance 44 Petronella "
•> o y
wi me l.
4 I'm no' caring for dancing the nicht,'
said she.
When she had gone some few steps away,
she recollected with dismay that she had
omitted to ask Brandreth what time he would
be out at the Witch's Knowe.
CHAPTER VIII.
ILL ye gang wi' me the nicht, Clova ?'
asked Tib. ' You an' me are no'
often thegither.'
Clova did not at once respond to Tib's invi-
tation. She was kneeling on the rough floor
of the cottage beside her ' kist,' apparently
weighing the merits of which of several hats
would prove the most becoming for her to
wear. . In reality she was burning for Tib to
go out. What if she should keep Brandreth
waiting at the Witch's Knowe, and he, turning
impatient, should go away without seeing her !
She had never before met him on a Sunday;
so skilfully had he arranged their meetings
during the past six months that neither Clova
nor himself had been compromised.
4 I'm no' sure that I can, Tib,' said Clova at
G
98
TIB.
last. ' I wad liae likit fine to hae been wi' ye,
though.'
' An' what for no' ?' inquired Tib. 4 Hae ye
got a sweetheart, dear lassie, an' are ye want-
ing to keep tryst wi' him up Noran Water ?
But I didna think that little Clova wad hae a
sweetheart an' no' tell me. It wadna be like
my bit bairn.'
'Ye despise sweethearts!' exclaimed Clova
hastily, ' an' think love is naething but non-
sense.'
'No, no; baith are ower serious to be
looked at wi' contempt. For mysel', I hope
I'll never be in love, for when ye've gi'en awa'
yer heart ye're at the mercy o' the man ye lo'e,
an' he's yer maister; nae man shall ever be
my maister like that. An' if he should dis-
appoint ye, where are ye, Clova? I couldna
tak' him back again to my love. Aince he
had killed the belief in me I wadna want to
see him ony mair. But if he were leal an'
true, an' lo'ed me, then'—
' What, Tib ?'
' I wad gang through fire an' water for him,'
she said simply. 'Ay, cauld an' hunger an
poverty are sair to bear, but the deceit o' the
TIB,
99
person ye lo'e best maun be the cruellest o' a'.
I shall never marry, though, an' will escape a
deal o' trouble that way.'
4 Are ye thinking o' Ericht Yule %' said Clova
mischievously. 4 Tuts ! ye shouldna get up in
anger. Folks say he thinks a heap o' ye.'
4 Hae ye lost onything i' yer kist that ye're
makin' sic a stramash turning yer ribbons an'
claes tapselteerie % I'll cast oot wi' ye if ye
speak that gait again.'
i
4 Cast oot wi' me, Tib !' said Clova evasively.
4 Oh, I'll redd up the morn when ye're i' the
fields.'
She had been searching for the morocco case
with the ring given her by Brandreth. She
saw there was no use pretending any longer
to choose between the hats, and even had she
found the ring case she could not have taken
it out with Tib looking on. Certainly it was
hard that Tib should not share the knowledge
of her successful love. She would have rej oiced
over her sister's good fortune. Clova's natural
elation was robbed of some of its sweetness by
Tib's ignorance of Brandreth's affection for
her.
4 Ye've never been in love,' Clova added,4 or
TOO
TIB.
ye wad hae kenned that if it's true love ye'll
love on till the day ye dee, whether ye're dis-
appointed or no'.'
4 Did ye read that in a book ?'
4 Ay, ane that Maister Brandreth lent me.'
With no small difficulty Clova commanded
her voice so as to speak of Brandreth with
comparative indifference. Tib regarded her
sister with the tender, pathetic patronage one
sees in the eyes of a mother for a delicate child.
Indeed, she often forgot that in reality she was
only a few years older than Clova.
4 Dinna tak' up yer heid wi' Maister Brand-
reth. He thinks that every lass he sees is
distrackit to marry him. I see'd him at the
Flower Show yestreen wi' twa leddies frae Fern-
lea, an' he didna ken what to mak' o' himsel'
wi' vanity.'
4 Oh, Tib, it's just his manner. He's no'
vain ; he canna help his'—
Clova paused for want of a suitable word.
4 His conceit,' said Tib emphatically.
4 No, no ; his grand bearing,' replied Clova.
4 If you would look at Oman Little—he's
a gude, steady man, Oman. But yer ain heart
maun guide ye, Clova.'
TIB.
101
{Mercy ! is it that oor, Tib ? Are ye gaun
to bide a' nicht i' the hoose ?'
' Oh, there is nae hurry; but I see ye are
daft to be off. I'll put a bit peat on the lire
to keep it in.'
Tib locked the cottage door, and, opening
one of the windows, hung the big iron key on
the handle of the shutter, and closed the
window again.
Clova was almost frantic with anxiety lest
she should be late at the Witch's Knowe. Tib
could not walk fast enough to please her. She
observed that Clova was in a great hurry, but
did not ask whom she was going to meet.
Clova was sure to let her know before long.
She had often attempted a lofty superiority
towards Tib when she had spent more money
than the latter considered desirable on finery,
but a couple of days at the outside had sufficed
to break down her reticence. The sisters
climbed over a low stone wall into a large
meadow. The farm horses had been turned
into this field, and were enjoying the day of
rest quite as much as their masters. Clova
was rather nervous at being amongst so many
horses; but Tib had no fear whatever, and when
102
TIB
Dandy, perceiving her from afar, came thunder-
ing towards her at a hand-gallop, she called to
him to stand still, putting out her hand to
stroke his head, and he obeyed her without a
moment's hesitation.
Clova seized the advent of Dandy as a legiti-
mate excuse for quitting Tib.
«
' Thae muckle beasts frichten me,' she said;
' ye can never be sure when they're gaun to
wheel roond an' fling up their heels.'
' A country lass like ye feared o' horses!'
cried Tib. 'They wadna hurt a sleeping bairn
—they're as canny as can be.'
4 Maybe no' oot o' ill-nature, but when they
career aboot ane gets confused an' kin' o' mixed
up wi' their hoofs. Keep them thegither, Tib,
while I jump ower the dyke.'
All along the road groups of people were
sauntering, discussing the Flower Show and the
general gossip of the neighbourhood. Clova
was known to most of the Sunday pedestrians,
and acknowledged their greetings wTith a smile
and a nod. She saw that everybody was com-
menting upon her with something of astonish-
ment for being in such a hurry. The correct
Sunday pace, according to long-established
TIB.
custom at Valros, was at the rate of a quarter
of a mile an hour. Undoubtedly Brandreth
had been right in saying that Sunday was a
conspicuous day for taking a walk abroad.
Although Valros was a thinly-populated dis-
trict, it appeared to Clova that all the world
had been let loose on that particular evening.
Happy folks for the most part they were,—
elderly couples, who had fought the battle of
life together, and were now going down the
hill rapidly ; young married people with small
children, the husband carrying the baby to
give the wife a well-earned rest; lovers, with
their future yet to plan—these last soon left
the highroad to wander under the birches
westwards up the glen.
Clova went through a rustic stile into a
wood of tall pines, between the ruddy stems
of which glimpses of the opposite hills were
visible. Before long she was following a
narrow foot-track beside the Noran, towards
the Witch's Knowe, so named because, accord-
ing to tradition, in the days when many harm-
less persons were persecuted for the supposed
crime of witchcraft, a young and beautiful girl
was to have been burned to death at this spot.
io4
TIB.
But she escaped her fate by leaping from the
rock, a height of some twelve feet, and fled
up the bank and thence away safely into the
fastnesses of the glen. The pool beneath the
rock was deep. At this point the Noran was
singularly clear and transparent, and every
stone and pebble was visible beneath the glassy
surface.
Brandreth was not anywhere to be seen.
Whether CI ova was too soon or too late she
did not know. Just as she was on the brink
of shedding tears of mortification she heard
footsteps near her, but she looked about her
in various directions without discovering him
anywhere. Presently, however, she raised her
eyes to the rock whence the girl had leaped in
her desperation, and there she saw Gordon
Brandreth standing. She rose and ran to the
edge of the river.
4 Oh, I am that glad you are come,' she
called.
4 But what's the use of coming ? I might
as well have stayed away,' said Brandreth in
an aggrieved and indignant voice. 4 Why
didn't you tell a fellow which side of the river
you would keep ?'
TIB.
4 What stupid o' me!' exclaimed Clova, in
deep penitence. 4 I never thocht o' saying
till ye; I didna doot but that ye'd been
here quite right. Valros is this side. I
kenned I'd forgotten to mention the time
to ye.'
4There is no bridge for a couple of miles,'
continued Brandreth.
4 How did ye get to the other side ?' asked
Clova.
41 went for a walk past the Loups and
crossed the Brig o' Noran, a good bit beyond
the falls. I was sure you would have been on
this side, because it is so much more private.
Hardly anybody walks here.'
4 Canna ye come to me some gait ?'
4 Well, you can hardly expect me to wade
through the river, and as for leaping down
from the Witch's Knowe, as the witch of Glen
4
Noran is said to have done long ago, I have
more regard for the safety of my neck than to
commit such folly.'
4 I'll gang up to the Brig o' Noran,' said
Clova hesitatingly, 4 an' ye could join me
there.'
4 My dear friend, it would be dark before
io6
TIB.
you could reach the Brig. No; you've made
a nice mess of the affair.'
4 Why didna ye ask me anent the time and
the side I was to keep ?' asked Clova, through
fast-falling tears.
4 Oh, I left it all in your hands, with the
result we've seen. Well, poor little darling,
don't look so utterly miserable. After all, it's
very absurd, and it's to be hoped we'll have
another walk together some day.'
4 Will we meet here neist Sabbath nicht ?'
4Not if I know it! We've had enough of
Sunday walks. They are dreadfully common.
It's not much fun walking out when everybody
else is abroad.'
4 How will ye win ower to Yalros ?'
4 Down at the Broon Ford. But that is
such a very public place that I do not ask you
to go there.'
Clova mutely bent her head in token of
farewell. No doubt she was entirely to blame,
still there was an uneasy sensation in her
mind that Brandreth ought to have troubled
himself to find out by which bank she intended
going, and if he preferred the north side of
the river he should have said so. But in
TIB. 107
another minute she had excused him to her-
self. The whole thing had been so hurriedly
arranged at the Flower Show that it was
impossible to settle the details properly.
Brandreth was about to turn in the direction
of the Broon Ford when Ericht Yule and
Oman Little came in sight of the separated
lovers. Both men took in the state of matters
at a glance, the look of disappointment on
Clova's fair, childish countenance telling its
own tale, but out of deference to her they
passed on in silence.
Brandreth felt himself flush angrily. He
believed that Clova's rustic admirer would
make the encounter common talk at the farm
on the morrow. He had been against this
tryst on Sunday night from the first, and it
was hard that his having weakly yielded to
Clova's entreaty should have been visited with
such a speedy retribution. As for the orra
man, he was not so far away that Brandreth
could not see the glint of mirth in his dark
eyes. Ericht Yule ! He was not prepossessed
by the young man. Although such a general
favourite himself, Brandreth did not like many
io8
TIB.
Brandreth, however, wronged Little in sup-
posing that he would allude to Clova Shiel in
connection with that evening's walk. The big
ploughman was too fond of Clova, in his slow
and serious way, to expose her to the jests of
the farm labourers. When out of sight of
Brandreth and Clova, he made one remark
i
to Yule.
' He canna think vera meikle o' the lass, or
he wadna hae hesitated aboot wettiug his feet
in ganging to her. I wad hae loupit frae the
tap o' the rock suner than hae brocht ae tear
to her bonnie blue een !'
' Don't disturb yourself, Little,' said the
orra man, with a hearty iaugh. * The unlucky
schoolmaster looks as though he felt con-
foundedly uncomfortable. I rather fancy Miss
Clova has got the best of it.'
CHAPTEE IX.
HE bridge at the Broon Ford con-
sisted of a single plank, secured at
each end by an iron staple fastened
into a stone. An unpleasant habit of vibrating
violently when walked upon characterised the
bridge. Many was the bashful rustic who had
escorted his sweetheart across, and had screwed
up his courage to put the fatal question as he
assisted her safely to the shore.
A tall woman was standing on the middle
of the narrow plank as Brandreth came up.
She was apparently engrossed in watching
some dark object struggling in the water.
Brandreth recognised the woman as Tib Shiel.
A sudden curiosity seized him to behold Tib
nearer. Oblivious of the fact that both he and
Tib could not cross the bridge at the same
109
I IO
TIB.
time, he walked quickly along the plank. Tib
had not heard his footsteps, nor had she seen
him coming. She was stooping downwards
towards the stream; the soft contour of her
white cheeks and the thick clump of chestnut
hair, gold in the last gleams of the sunlight,
were all that was visible of her head. One of
the twain must go back to allow of the other
passing. Brandreth moved impatiently from
one foot to another, causing the bridge to
oscillate with more than ordinary violence, and
nearly precipitating him into the stream ; but
Tib, being accustomed to carrying sheaves of
corn and heavy milk cans, had a better balance
than Brandreth. In his effort to preserve his
equilibrium, he caught hold of her arm, and
inadvertently held it rather tightly.
4 Excuse me/ said Brandreth ; ' I hope I
didn't hurt you ?'
For the first time in his life Brandreth forgot
his own identity, and was startled out of his
general feeling of superiority over the rest of
his fellow-creatures. He was face to face with
the woman who had derided him. He had
told himself that he did not care—that he
despised Tib Shiel. He had argued in perfect
TIB.
hi
good faith, but nevertheless he had smarted
under the humiliation of being ridiculed by
her. Was she really as handsome as was
alleged ? The evening light was behind her,
therefore her features were not distinctly
revealed to him; but as she looked at him
with grave and steadfast eyes, he saw that
the rustic gossip concerning Tib's beauty was
true. He could fancy, too, that a man might
be inclined to dare many things to gain the
approval and good opinion of such a woman.
That proud mouth must be charming when the
full lips condescended to smile, although he
could imagine them curling in haughty disdain.
Probably they had so curled when she dis-
cussed him in such scornful terms with Clova.
But to think that after the numerous plans
he had made of passing Tib Shiel with
lofty contempt whilst engaged in her field
wTork, he should encounter her suddenly in
the middle of the Broon Ford bridge, and
be very thankful indeed to cling to her
arm!
' Oh, ye're no' hurting me meikle,' said Tib,
too truthful to say that she did not feel the
convulsive pressure of Brandreth's fingers
112
TIB.
rather painful. 4 Were ye feared ye wad fa'
into the water ?'
' Well, a little,' admitted Brandreth.
41 never spoke to ye afore,' continued Tib.
4 I'm glad for the chance o' saying that the
books ye lend Clova are a treat.'
4 You enjoy them, do you ?'
4 Ay; but maybe I whiles keep them ower
lang. Clova's sune dune; but I'm slow, an'
maun read ilka word, or I canna take in the
sense.'
4 Oh, there is no hurry about the books. 1
have a library for lending to my friends.'
4 Maister Brandreth.'
' Yes.'
4 Ye're holding my arm some sair.'
4 Oh, I beg your pardon,' said Brandreth, in
$
great confusion. 41 was not aware ; I thought
I had let go.'
He instantly withdrew his grasp, and in so
doing was within an ace of personally testing
the depth of the Nor an at that particular
point. He could not think what was the
matter with him. He had walked over the
plank hundreds of times without giving
the subject of its unsteadiness a thought;
TIB. 113
indeed, he would have scouted the idea of
there being any danger connected with the
place, but then he had not been situated in
such perilous circumstances before. The close-
ness of his proximity to Tib, who had stated
she disliked him, somehow unnerved him.
4 Ye'd better hold on gin ye canna stand
wanting it.'
' Shall I go back,' asked Brandreth, ' and
let you cross the bridge ?'
' Weel, ane o's will need to move roond.
Were ye ganging the Eskmains road too ?'
' Yes; I must cross the bridge to get to
Yalros. Can you turn without assistance ?'
c Ye'd better tak' tent to yersel',' replied
Tib. ' I can do weel eneuch mysel'.'
She changed her position with ease upon
the unsteady plank. Brandreth could not
help admiring her coolness and calmness as
she walked firmly along, not in the least
embarrassed, so far as he could judge, by
his presence. He followed her as closely as
possible, being sure that he could not command
himself sufficiently to come across without
mishap were she to station herself at the
opposite end of the plank to await his arrival.
H
ii4
TIB.
s
41 was wunnering whether that bit black
pig could swim ower the river,' said Tib. 4 Do
ye see it ?'
She pointed to an exceedingly small black
pig, which was making active efforts in the
swimming line. Although the current was
apparently still and silent at the Broon Ford,
yet in reality the river was flowing rapidly
along. The clearness and glassiness of the
water were deceptive, as the little pig experi-
enced, being occasionally whirled round and
round, and at other times nearly sucked down
into the transparent depths below. But the
pig always rose to the surface again, and fought
hard to gain the shore.
* I didn't know that pigs could swim,'
remarked Brandreth.
4 There's no' mony beasts that canna swim
when they're putten to't. I'm kin' o' fond o'
black pigs, the same as I like black lambs.
The wee pig has landed safely.'
4 Ah, you prefer anything uncommon and
out of the ordinary run. So do I.'
' The black pig reminds me o' the pig the
Professor speaks o' in Sartor Resartus. Yon's
an extraordinar' book. The man that wrote
TIB
TI5
yon maun hae been through burning fires o'
affliction. There are pieces ye wad think he
had written wi's heart's blood. I was sorry
for the Professor losing the lass he lo'ed.
Sartor Resartus is a sad book, an' when ye
lay it doon ye feel as though ye could greet.
An' what's the use o't a' ?'
' The book has done good by making people
think about the social problems of the day.
Have you read any of Shakespeare's plays ?'
' Ay, ane ca'd the Merchant o' Venice,
an' anither, Hamlet. But the Merchant o'
Venice is my favourite, Antonio is sic a
gentleman.'
'Yes, so he is." I don't think the beauty
of his character is sufficiently realised. We
are apt to make Shylock the hero of the play.
But Antonio, as you say, is a perfect gentle-
man. When he has got into such dire trouble
for Bassanio's sake, he never utters a word of
reproach, but rejoices most truly in his friend's
successful courtship and prosperity.'
'He lo'ed Bassanio dearly, an' it maun be
grand to sacrifice yersel' for the ane ye lo'e
best.'
Brandreth smiled at the enthusiasm and
TIB.
warmth of Tib's tones. Was this girl, who so
fully comprehended the subtle pathos of two
such different compositions as the Merchant
of Venice and Sartor Resartus, merely an
ordinary field worker ? Surely she had a mind
and intellect worth cultivation. Brandreth
had tried to infuse some interest in Clova in
%
connection with literature, but he found that a
penny novelette was more entertaining to her
than the finest works of Shakespeare or Carlyle.
t
Should he not be doing a good action by help-
ing Tib to educate herself ? Perhaps she
would not always despise and dislike him. It
was natural he should wish to stand well with
Clova's sister, and Clova would only be too
pleased to see him taking trouble about Tib.
He resolved to ingratiate himself with her.
That last observation showed latent possi-
bilities, which it would be his task to awaken.
And then, when he had won her esteem, he
would confess that Clova had told him of
those slighting remarks which had raised such
a storm of resentful indignation in his heart.
' Euskin says there is nothing lovely in the
self-sacrifice of one human being for another,
and I think he is right/ said Brandreth.
TIB.
117
4 Unselfishness often encourages the grossest
selfishness. Have you heard of Ruskin ?'
'Ay; I've read bits quoted frae his books
i' the papers. Dinna ye think he admires
Antonio ?'
4 Perhaps he thinks him a foolish fellow for
binding himself by such a dangerous pledge.'
' Commend me to your honourable wife :
Tell her the process of Antonio's end,
Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death:
And, when the tale is told, bid her he judge
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent not you that you shall lose your friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt;
For, if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.'
Tib had begun repeating the lines in an
undertone to herself, but as she went on she
forgot Brandreth's presence in the beauty of
the sentiment, and delivered the noble words
with a mingled dignity and resignation.
4 Antonio seems to have taken possession of
your imagination, Miss Shiel. I think I must
write an essay upon the Merchant's character
and virtues. Though much has been written
about even the minor creations of Shakespeare,
I never saw any criticism especially directed
TIB.
to Antonio. It is remarkable tbat be bad not
been in love; at least, we are led to infer tbat
be bad not.'
' He was better without it,' said Tib.
' There you are mistaken,' replied Brandreth.
' The life of a man, and above all, tbat of a
woman, is most certainly incomplete without
love.'
To this Tib did not choose to make any direct
answer. Brandreth was much more agreeable
and less cou descending than she had supposed.
She had been carried away by her admiration
of the ' melancholy Antonio' to talk more
freely than was her wont; still, she could not
discuss what she considered a sacred subject
with a comparative stranger.
' Ane canna help feeling kin' o' sorry for
Shylock at the last. Besides, I'm no' sure
that the Christians were very Christian i' their
conduct to the Jews, judging frae what Shy-
lock said i' the bitterness o's spirit.'
' I shouldn't like to have met him when he
left the court disappointed of his revenge,
beggared of his fortune, deceived by his
daughter, bereft of his ducats and his jewels,'
laughed Brandreth. 4 If he had any more luck-
TIB. 119
less debtors at his mercy, how he would
punish them!'
Brandreth and Tib Shiel had quitted the
Broon Ford. Insensibly they had fallen into
the universal Sunday pace in Glen Noran, and
were proceeding in the most leisurely manner
possible towards the place where the Esk-
mains road branched off from that leading to
V alros.
A young person, attired in a very smart
gown and a hat of the latest Parisian fashion,
as interpreted by the Fernlea folks, paused
from stifling; a sob in her retreat behind a
O
rowan tree, to gaze in amazement as two well-
known figures sauntered up the grass-bordered
path at the side of the highway. The man
and woman were deep in earnest conversation,
and Brandreth was looking intently at Tib's
rapt countenance.
The young person wiped the last tear from
her eyelashes, gave a little hop and skip of
delight, and, trusting that the fast-gathering
gloaming would conceal the fact of her having
so recently cried, she soon overtook Tib and
Brandreth. The latter was conscious of a
dissonant chord in the conversation when Clova
I 20
TIB.
joined them; but Tib drew the girl's arm
fondly through her own.
' Hae ye had a happy time, my doo ?' she
asked. ' An did ye hae a nice walk up Noran
Water ?'
Clova glanced from Tib to Brandreth. She
need not have dreaded that her lover would
comment upon her swollen eyelids. He was
wholly occupied with Tib, and a strange,
indefinable pain that seemed to pass through
his soul.
'No, I didna enjoy mysel' ava,' she said.
' But there's nae use thinking upon that, since
I've come here.'
Her look of affection told both Tib and
Brandreth that she was glad to see them
together at last.
CHAPTER X.
T was Hallowe'en, a night dedicated
to burning nuts, ducking for apples
in tubs of water, pulling kail stocks,
besides other forms of divination practised
by the young men and maidens in Glen
Noran.
The sun had just gone down behind the
broad heathery crest of Blackcairn, leaving a
trail of scarleb in the western sky. The wind
was sighing and lamenting through the russet
withered leaves of the trees, whose branches
showed dark against the fading brilliance in
the heavens. Lights were twinkling in the
cottage windows at Eskmains, and cheerful
reflections from glowing fires within shone out
upon the road. Over all, the ' big twilight in
the north' was beginning to spread, lending to
121
122
TIB.
the landscape a certain ' half - spiritualised/
dreamy, poetic charm.
Yule had been helping the ploughmen to
c supper up' the horses for the evening. This
duty had been performed earlier than usual,
because Mr. Brandreth's long-talked-of Penny
Reading was to take place at Yalros that same
night. In consequence of this great event, the
farm work had been hurried forward to allow
the ploughmen to tidy themselves up for the
occasion.
Yule had come out of the stables with a
lantern in his hand, but he had blown out the
light, and stood back in the shade cast by the
projecting eaves of the roof. He was not
thinking of the horses, nor whether he had left
all safe for the night, nor that he was rather
tired with his first attempt at ploughing. His
meditations were centred upon the problem of
whether he should have time to go to the
bothy and gather a certain red geranium
before Tib Shiel left the farmhouse for her
own cottage.
Yule had seen her walking through the
steading to the back door, with a troop of
children adorned with masks and strange head-
TIB.
123
gear, while several were dressed in odd gar-
ments, and had blackened their faces with soot.
'Will ye help the Guizards?' cried the
children with one voice. In answer to their
appeal, Mrs. Carroch appeared at the door and
distributed nuts and apples to the mummers,
who, after singing various songs, dispersed to
seek similar donations from other houses.
Yule wondered whether he should find the
bothy empty. He did not want to be seen
conveying the treasured geranium away.
%
' Oh, you've come in, Ericht,' said Little.
' I'm getting redd up for the Penny Reading.'
Little was sitting on the lid of the large
meal chest containing the ploughmen's allow-
ance of oatmea], while Donald Bain was trim-
ming the former's locks into something like
neatness. Several box beds lined one side of
the room ; the roof was without any attempt at
plaster, and not over tightly fastened together,
the winds of heaven blowing at their own
sweet will through the apertures between the
slates. Most of the men's properties were
accommodated on the rude rafters. Light
was supplied by an iron lamp of a simple but
exceedingly antique pattern. Some illustrated
124
TIB.
almanacs nailed to the wall served the purpose
of pictures. The floor of the bothy was earthen,
trodden firmly down, and hard as iron.
'I hope Donald's cutting my hair richt,'
continued Little anxiously. 4 I've to appear
in public the nicht and sing a sang, an a body
doesna care aboot being made a mock oV
4 Oh, Donald is doing well enough,' said
Yule. He advanced to the window sill where
the cherished geranium plant stood, and secured
the solitary spray of blossom.
'He's ta'en it to Tib Shiel, I'll be bound,'
exclaimed Bain, laughing, as Yule went out
again.
' I wunner whaur he came frae ?' remarked
Little.
4
' I doot it'll be lang or ye ken that,' said
Bain.
The small Gruizards were singing and dancing
as they ran down the brae from the farmhouse.
Tib's figure was still visible to Yule's keen eye
through the dim, soft dusk. He had hidden
the scarlet geranium flower under his coat in
case the wind, though gentle, should blow
away the fragile petals before he had conveyed
them safely to their destination.
TIB.
125
4 Your favourite dark purple pansies are not
in bloom now, Tib, so here is a red geranium
I thought you would maybe wear instead of a
breast-knot to-night.'
4 I'm no' very fond o' reid as a colour; it's
gey an' gaudy like.'
4 But I've grown the geranium on purpose
for you.'
4 Ye're sure there's no' ony ither lass ye wad
wish to gie the flower to ?'
41 wouldn't have offered the geranium to
you if there had been. What ails you at the
poor flower, Tib ?'
4 Naething,' said she hastily. 'But ye should-
na trouble yersel' growing flowers for me.'
v4 It's a pleasure,' replied Yule. 4 I'll look
out for the flower at your breast when I'm
playing at the Penny Reading. You'll be
there, I suppose, to hear Clova sing. Besides,
Mr. Brandreth is going to recite some poetry.'
4 Sae he tauld me yestreen.'
4 Oh, you saw Brandreth so recently, did
you ?'
4 He was up-bye, speiring at Clova whether
she would like him to accompany her wi' the
harmonium, for he'd been thinking it wad
126
TIB.
1
soond ower lood, an' he didna wish to droon
her voice. But she thocht she wad do fine wi't.
I was hearing ye had been ploughing the day.'
41 got on pretty well considering my in-
experience, only I can't say much for the
straightness of the furrows. Some of them
were crooked as the letter S.'
'Yer hand shakes wi' holding the plough.
Yer fingers are trembling still.'
' Do ye fancy it is with ploughing, Tib ?'
' What else wad it be ?' she said wonder-
ingly. 41 ken by mysel'. Ye maun get
steadier afore the Penny Beading, for ye're
to play maist o' the accompaniments to the
singers.'
41 shall have settled down before then.
The programme is too long. We must start
punctually, or we shall not have finished until
midnight.'
Tib took the scarlet geranium, and went
homewards. The stars had begun to shine,
and there was a soft luminous sheen in the
sky, showing that the moon was about to
rise and break through the clouds. The
crimson in the horizon had changed to dusky
grey, and against this the gables an(j
TIB.
127
chimneys of the Shiels' cottage were black
and distinct. Above the noise of the Noran
flowing over the stones at the ford, the sad
voice of the wind through the trees was heard
distinctly, full of 4 depths of uncomprehended
pain' and plaintive harmonies. The wintry
gloaming had always an indescribable fascina-
tion for Tib. There was an indefinable 4 magic
of mysticity' about the faint lingering light that
touched the girl like a pathetic reminiscence
of happier moments. She roused herself from
the half-melancholy, half-yearning emotion she
knew not for what, and entered the cottage.
Clova was kneeling on the hearth before the
fire, her cheeks rosy red with bending over the
glowing embers.
4 I'm burning nuts, Tib,' said she. 4 Here's
you and the orra man consuming awa' wi' heat
to yer vera hearts. Ye're just on fire wfi love,
the twa o' ye.'
4 Tuts ! the orra man !'
4 An' this is mysel' an' my ain jo !'
4 He's jumped awa' frae ye, Clova, sae that
shows whatna havers burning nuts is.'
4 Weel, but he's come back again,' said Clova.
4 I'm glad o' that.'
TIB.
' I'll burn you an Oman Little thegither/
'No, I'm for naething o' the kind!' cried
Clova.
' Puir Oman !'
' Gin it hadna been the Penny Reading the
nicht I'd meant to duck for apples i' the barn
up-bye. I've tried the three saucers, but didna
come on vera week I'm that feared, or I wad
gang oot at the mirk midnicht an' sow hemp-
seed, an' then I wad see the face o' my true
love. But ye maun gang alane for yon, an'
I daurna, in case I should meet a ghaist.'
Clova rose from the fire, and stood before
the small looking-glass which hung above the
mantelpiece. She surveyed herself with par-
donable pride. The looking-glass measured
perhaps eight inches by six, and as it was
spotted with damp, and some of the mercury
rubbed off the back, there was not much space
for the reflection of Clova Shiel's pretty face.
Still, she was very pleased with what she did
behold. She turned her head from side to
side, like a bird preening its feathers, while
Tib, sitting on a low wooden chair near the
fire, gazed at her sister with eyes full of
love.
TIB.
129
' The mirror's awfu' wee, Tib,' said Clova
coaxingly ; ' we're sair needin' a new ane.'
4 Oh, that wad be waste 0' money,' rejoined
Tib. 4 The auld ane does fine.'
' I'm no' like ye, that never looks at yersel'
in a gless frae ae Sabbath till the neist. Ye
canna tell what way yer hair's dressed, or yer
collar fastened, or yer hat set on yer heid.'
c But it disna signify for me. Sax days oot
o' the seven I hardly ever need a collar or a
hat wi' my oot-worker's dress, an' if my hair's
braided tightly oot o' my road, it's a' I
require.'
' Weel, ye're wunnerfu' neat, considering the
sma' attention ye pay yersel',' said Clova. ' I
think it's the first duty o' a woman to look i'
the gless an' tak' pains wi' her appearance.
Oh, what a splendid reid gerannum, Tib !'
'Ye'd better hae't, Clova. The orra man
gie'd it me, but it'll become ye best. At
ony rate, it'll be mair seen.'
4 The orra man '11 maybe no' be pleased wi'
me wearing it when he brocht it for yersel',
lassie.'
' Ou, he'll no' heed.'
4 Maybe he'll be offended,' went on Clova.
1
TIB.
' Then he maun survive his anger,' replied
Tib.
' I think ye forget the orra man has ony
feeling ava,' remarked . Clova. 4 He's fair
distrackit aboot ye. Oh, I ken, Tib. Hae I
no' seen half-a-dozen men in love, an' dinna
I understand the signs ?'
c Is't aucht or nine sweethearts ye've had ?'
asked Tib.
' Ten,' said Clova, counting on her fingers.
' There was Archie Muir, an' Habbie Skene, an'
Tammas Tamson, an'—an''— She stopped.
' Ye've had sae mony that ye're kin' o'
confused amang them.'
' Weel, it is bewildering when ye try to
think o' ten lads at the same time.'
' Whae's the tenth, Clova ?'
4 Oh, dinna fash yersel'. Ye shouldna be
ower inquisitive.'
' Ye've a deal to answer for. Ten sweet-
hearts, an' I never had nane ! I wadna like
to inflict sae meikle pain.'
'The lads werena lang in getting new lassies;
at least, the maist feck o' them. Those that
grat and pled the hardest were soonest cured,
just like a man at his wife's funeral making
TIB. 131
an' unco fuss, an' then marrying again within
the twalmonth; an' the second wife's aye the
nicest o' the twa wi' him. Ay, it's fine to be
a second wife. But ye hae gotten a sweet-
heart i' the orra man, an' ye only kenned how
to manage him.'
Tib laughed.
' I'm no' wanting a sweetheart that needs
helping and managing. He's no' worth haeing
gin that be it.'
' Oh, a man in love is aye backward an'
shy ; an' ye maun encourage him a bit, or he'll
never come forward.'
' Ye've had a deal o' experience, there's nae
doot. What does it feel like, Clova, when a
man asks ye to marry him ? an' how do ye
ken what to say—I mean, to use the richt
words in answering him ?'
' Do ye think there's a special form drawn
up for the benefit o' lassies when they are
getting an offer o' marriage? 0ha Tib! Feel?
Oh, it feels real fine, an' as though ye wad like
to rin awa'. But a body gets used wi't, for
when done, though there are mony ways o'
puttin' the question, it's the same thing i' the
end. Ye'll never get a sweetheart gin ye
132
TIB.
stand cauld an' stiff, an' speak that freezing-
like to the men/
' I doot I maun gang wantin' a sweetheart,
then/ said Tib.
'Ye're liking Mr. Brandreth some better
since ye met him that Sabbath nicht ?' asked
Clova timidly.
' Yes; he's no' near sae bad as I thocht him.
The reid gerannum's the vera thing, Clova.
Shouldna ye be gaun to the schule? The
time's wearing awa'.'
' They canna begin withoot the performers,
an' I'm the principal soprano singer, sae they
maun bide my pleasure.'
e Arena ye some feared to stand up an' sing
afore sae mony folk ?'
c No' a bit mair than ye are wi' that meikle
brute Dandy.'
Clova fastened the scarlet geranium spray
at the left side of her throat, where the bright
blossom nestled amidst some white lace, form-
ing an excellent contrast to her dark blue
gown, and, after a farewell glance at the mirror,
announced that she was ready to start for the
schoolhouse at Valros, whenever Tib was
pleased to set off.
CHAPTER XT
LOVA and Tib were late in arriving,
but the former secretly enjoyed the
sensation her appearance evidently
created amongst the audience. They were re-
ceived by Brandreth and the orra man, who were
taking the tickets and showing the people to
their seats. Yule shot an inquiring glance at
Tib, but, failing to behold the scarlet geranium,
could only hope that she had put it on inside
her jacket. If Tib wore the flower, he should
consider it a good omen for his aspirations.
He escorted Clova to the smaller portion of the
school, used as a green-room for the performers.
Chinese lanterns and oil lamps were fastened
against the walls, and there was some attempt
at decorations in the shape of a few festoons
of evergreens about the platform. The effect
T34
TIB.
of the whole, in the little, long, low-ceilinged
room, was very quaint.
Brandreth was thoroughly in his element,
managing everybody. The only thing that
caused him any annoyance was the unexpect-
edly large number of the Choral Union from
Fernlea. The Choral Union had volunteered
its valuable services for the first Penny Read-
ing at Valros. To Brandreth's dismay, he had
only seen at the last moment that the platform
was too small to contain the whole of the
singers. The difficulty of selecting which
musical ladies and gentlemen should not mount
the rostrum was too alarming to contemplate,
therefore he resolved he would allow the
choice to remain with themselves. Otherwise,
he was highly gratified by the success of the
affair as regarded the audience, the school
being packed from end to end with eager,
expectant faces. Many of the spectators had
relatives amongst the performers, and had
come on purpose to hear 'oor Tammas' or 'oor
Jeems' sing or recite. Country folks always
turn out well for local talent, although 'oor
Tammas? would doubtless rather hold forth
before an audience of complete strangers.
TIB.
135
' I have kept a nice seat for you, Miss Shiel,'
said Brandreth, ' out of the draught, and
where you will both hear and see well.'
c Oh, I could sit ony gait,' she answered.
' Ye hae sae mony things to think aboot, it's
a wunner ye recollected me.'
'It's easy thinking of you,' he answered,
' for you are never long absent from my
thoughts.'
He spoke almost in a whisper, but Tib
heard every syllable plainly enough. A
sudden sweet confusion seized her, and she
blushed. She was indignant with herself for
having done so. Brandreth saw the flush with
satisfaction ; he felt he was making some pro-
gress in his efforts to impress Tib favourably.
Oman Little, panting with excitement and
nervousness, was sitting in the green-room
with Clova and other performers. Every now
and again he made extraordinary grimaces,
and conned over the words of the song he was
about to sing, wishing alternately that the
fatal moment had arrived for him to get
through his anxieties, or that he could show
a clean pair of heels and run away. He was
also concerned in case Donald Bain should not
136
TIB.
have cut his hair straight. He had not ven-
tured to ask the loan of a mirror, by means
of which his doubts might have been ended.
Certainly, in his best Sunday coat, with a
terrifically stiff white collar, and elegant
necktie of red and blue and yellow striped
satin, his hair closely cropped in front, but
sticking out at the back of his head, he did
not look at ease, nor so well as usual.
The chairman put on his spectacles, cleared
his throat, and then began to announce the next
item on the list. Hitherto the audience had
not been particularly charmed with any of the
efforts for its amusement. Even Mr. Brandreth's
reading from Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures
had fallen somewhat flat, merely drawing the
remark from an elderly lady, 4 That she did
not like Caudle. Indeed, she couldn't abide
him!' And various discontented youths in the
back seats had gone so far as to hiss distinctly
a long piece of poetry, which, however, the
proud reciter imagined meant approbation,
4
and not only did he read triumphantly to the
end, but ran up the ladder leading to the
platform with the speed of lightning to recite
another equally lengthy and doleful poem.
TIB. 137
The audience was so much astonished at this
mistake that his last attempt was received
in dead silence; and perhaps this was lucky,
as otherwise he would certainly have read a
third piece, with which he was ready primed.
For long afterwards this individual boasted of
the unanimous encore he had received at the
Valros Penny Readings!
4 Mr. Oman Little is the next performer
mentioned in the programme,' read out the
chairman. 4 He is to favour us with that
well-known and beautiful song, 44Jock o'
Hazeldean." I am sure we shall all have a
treat in listening to Mr. Little's fine bass voice.'
4 Oh, is it my turn already ?' gasped Little.
41 had rather have a tooth drawn than go up
yonder and sing. My voice is tenor, too, but
that mistake o' the chairman's disna signify.
Ericht, man, I hope to gudeness ye'll hit the
proper key when ye accompany me. I'm sure
we've practised often eneuch. What are ye
seeking ?'
4 My violin,' replied the orra man.
He had placed his violin case for safety on
one of the school shelves, above a pile of copy-
books. In stretching forward to reach the
i3»
TIB.
case he was obliged to pass close to Clova
Shiel. She smiled at him very sweetly.
She always made a point of being agreeable
to everybody. She knew intuitively that
time spent in trying to subdue Yule was
wasted, for the little world of the farm town
guessed truly that the orra man's heart was
Tib's, if she would deign to accept it. She
was aware that Little loved her, although the
ploughman had not told her in so many words.
But he merely counted as her eleventh admirer
in Clova's eyes. For the fun of the thing she
would fain have made up the complement of
her admirers to the number of twelve before
she married Brandreth and settled down. It
was a pity that Ericht Yule was entirely
beyond her reach, or her ambition would have
been at once attained. She meant no harm,
but she liked a little amusement.
The orra man smiled back at Clova. Then
he perceived the scarlet geranium at her
throat. Surely it was not the flower he had
given Tib! No doubt there is a general family
resemblance between single scarlet geraniums,
and Clova's might be a different flower.
Tve gotten an awfu' bonny nosegay, Ornan,'
TIB.
139
said Clova coquettishly. 4 How didna ye think
0' bringing me ane ? Tib was real gude, an'
gie'd me this, or I wad hae been obliged to
gang wanting it.'
So Tib had scorned his gift, handing it over
to Clova!
' I'm sure I should hae been prood, Clova,
gin I'd thocht o' ye,' stammered Little.
' Sae ye didna think o' me ava ?' said she,
with a pout. ' Weel, that is complimentary,
Oman! I wunner ye wad confess the like o'
yon. Dinna keep the folk waiting; they're
getting impatient.'
4 I'll mind ye the neist time,' said Little,
in an agony of nervousness and vexation at
having been so remiss about the bouquet.
'Losh! I'll never forget again, though I should
walk to Fernlea and back for the flower.'
>
4 Ay, but when will the neist time be?' re-
plied Clova. "'The present moment is oor ain,
the neist we never saw." Ye ken that verse?'
' In a fortnicht,' urged Little.
' Maybe I'll no' be singing then,' said she.
' I dinna ken that I'll care to sing here ony
mair. Come, dinna be a fortnicht in begin-
ning yer sang.'
140
TIB,
Little was confused by Clova's badinage,
and even more by the assemblage of faces
turned towards the platform. He thought
the orra man would never finish tuning his
violin. The heat of the room had affected the
tension of the strings, and certainly it seemed
as though the scrapings and tightenings that
went on were both unconscionably prolonged
and excessively unnecessary. Indeed, the
transfer of the scarlet geranium had disturbed
the orra man's self-possession a good deal.
The various discordant sounds inseparable
from the tuning of the violin were ended at
last. The orra man played the prelude-to the
♦
song. Little advanced boldly forward to the
front of the platform, with a determined mien,
held up his right hand, and, screwing up his
mouth into a curious contortion, began sing-
ing—
' Why weep ye by the tide, Ladye ?
Why weep ye by the tide ?
I'll wed ye to my youngest son,
And ye shall be his bride;
And ye shall be his bride, Ladye,
Sae comely to be seen.
But aye she loot the tear doon fa:
For Jock o' Hazeldean.'
Unfortunately the orra man had pitched
TIB.
141
the key too high, and when Little reached the
consoling words of the would-be mother-in-law
to the sighing damsel, it was clear that he was
unable to deliver the rest of the tempting
promise. Little stopped and glared ferociously
at the orra man. The latter was playing on,
in blissful ignorance of having made any
blunder.
' Ye're far ower high, man,' said Little, in a
wrathful stage aside, audible over the whole
room. ' Pitch the key lower.'
'Is anything wrong ?' said the orra man
blandly. ' Were not you singing ?'
4 Singing! How the deil do ye suppose
that the highest tenor voice ever created could
sing notes an octave above what they're
printed ?'
4 Oh, I'll begin again,' said Yule.
Accordingly he commenced the prelude once
more, amidst a good deal of clapping of hands
as encouragement to the performers; but he
saw nothing but the earnest face of Tib Shiel
beneath her shady hat, and could think of
nothing but her rejection of the scarlet
geranium.
'Do it richt this time,' ejaculated Little, in
142
TIB.
a threatening manner. ' Gin we mak' anither
mistake, I'll never can show mysel' again at
Eskmains.'
He hummed the air loudly to himself until
Yule indicated by a sign from his bow that it
was the moment for the vocalist to exhibit his
powers.
4 Why weep ye by the tide, Ladye?
Why'—
The unhappy Little could proceed no further.
Indeed, the orra man, instead of playing in a
lower key, had unintentionally modulated into
an even higher than that he had previously
played. Little stuck hopelessly upon that
' Why,' leaving the question for ever un-
answered. He stopped short, looked despair-
ingly at the orra man, and bowed to the
audience.
4 Losh, this is perfectly redeecklous!' he
exclaimed confidentially. 'Ye ken this'll
never do !'
And, with another bow, he ran down the
steps into the green-room as fast as his
legs could carry him, amidst thunders of
applause.
TIB.
T43
The orra man stood for a minute, playing
away, until the fact dawned upon him that he
was literally giving a song without words.
Then he too hastily departed.
' Man, I could slay ye !' cried Little, wiping
the perspiration from his dripping brow.
. «
'After a' the practeeses we've had, and me
ganging ower the tune when I was in my bed,
an' a' the pains I had ta'en, to spile a body's
sang like yon !'
' I am very sorry,' murmured Yule. ' Come
back and try again. Maybe I'll hit the right
key this time.'
' The orra man wasna to blame,' said Clova,
laughing. ' I doot I was the culprit, and this'
—pointing to the scarlet geranium blossom—
' was the cause o't a'.'
She tripped away, and in another moment
was confronting the audience. She was not
i
in the least nervous, and made a funny little
curtsey, like a charity child's bob, with com-
plete calmness and composure. Nature had
evidently intended Clova for a singer, for even
the lowness of the ceiling, to which the plat-
form was tolerably near, could not spoil the
clearness of her lovely voice. The song was
144
TIB.
pathetic, telling the history of true love which
did not run smooth.
' Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae farewell, alas ! for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage tliee.'
In a moment the whisperings of all and
sundry ceased. Clova had the audience with
her. The contrast between her bright face,
flushed with a sense of delight and triumph,
and the sad words she was singing, was piquant
in the extreme. Some people criticised the
gestures she used as being affected, but in
reality she could no more help them than
the nightingale can help its feathered throat
swelling and quivering when pouring forth its
flood of melody in a summer's evening in some
woodland glade.
' If she had ever known real grief she could
never have sung like that,' said the orra
man to himself. c When your heart is broken
you're only able for the maddest and merriest
of music.'
When the Penny Reading was over, and
the schoolhouse thrown open for the departure
TIB. 145
of the audience, snowflakes were seen falling
thickly. The wintry air rushing in felt cold
and chill after the heat. Clova retreated into
the green-room, wdiere she was soon surrounded
by a group of laughing girls. She was in wild
spirits at the praise she had received about
her singing. And Brandreth had graciously
signified his approval, and had told her he had
seldom heard her in better voice. As Brand-
reth was pleased, the world went very well
with Clova.
4 Coming hame, Tib !' she said. 4 No, in-
deed! It's Hallowe'en, an' I maun gaither
kail-stocks an' lay them at oor door. The
nicht's far advanced, near twal o' the clock,
sae I maun be quick.'
4 Pulling kail-stocks is vain superstition,'
urged Tib. 4 Ye'd be better in yer bed.'
41 maun hae some fun afore I'm auld an'
grey-haired. But ye dinna ken what that is ;
ye never need ony relaxation, week in week
oot. I wunner wha'll be the first at oor door
the morn ? I hope it'll no' be that gowk, Oman
Little.'
4 Ye're real ungrateful, Clova.'
4 Sae were ye when ye put awa' the orra
K
146
TIB.
man's reid gerannum. The flower's deid, sae
it's useless. I canna bear withered flowers.'
She flung the faded blossom heedlessly out
at the door amidst the snow. The orra man,
chancing to be passing at the time, observed
her action, and completed the destruction of
the scarlet geranium by trampling on it. To
him it seemed a fitting emblem of his fallen
fortunes.
CHAPTER XII.
LOYA seemed in no hurry to return.
Tib began to feel sleepy; the heat
of the fire made her inclined to
doze. She put a lighted candle on the
window-sill, that Clova should not miss her
way in the dark, and took her knitting to
keep herself awake. She was beginning to be
uneasy, and wished most heartily that Clova
were safe back under the protection of the
cottage roof. The eight - day clock in the
corner made a whirr and click. Tib glanced
towards it to see the hour. A large photo-
graph of Thomas Carlyle was fastened beside
the clock. Brandreth had copied out some
verses composed by the philosopher, and Tib
had pinned them beneath the photograph,
They were entitled ' The value of to-day.'
148
TIB.
Tib was fond of the well-known lines. From
her lowly seat beside the fire she could read
Brandreth's writing distinctly enough. She
did not need to look at her busy fingers, as
they made the knitting-needles fly rapidly in
and out, leaving a long piece of work behind.
The old cuckoo clock struck one. Tib started
at the sound, and jumped up, flinging her
knitting on the hearth. She was sure that
somebody was standing outside, waiting to
be let into the house. Probably Clova was
arranging the kail-stocks where the expected
beaux could not fail to tread upon them. Tib
hoped that Oman Little would prove the
successful candidate for Clova's favour. No
doubt she laughed at him, but Tib was
certain her sister valued his sterling worth.
Tib rose, and, opening the door, called Clova
to enter.
' It is not Clova,' said Gordon Brandreth.
Tib glanced at him in utter astonishment.
The snow was falling in a whirling maze,
through which the background of leafless
branches and trunks of trees loomed but
dimly. Brandreth held up a kail-stock he
had found lying across the threshold. Tib
TIB.
149
saw that the kail-stoek was well grown, with
plenty of leaves, and a large clod of earth at
the roots. Recollecting what Clova had said
about the popular superstition of Hallowe'en
and the kail-stocks, she turned away from
Brandreth. She did not ask him to enter,
and he did not venture to advance nearer,
standing outside in the falling snow, while she
spoke from within the warm room.
4 Is Clova no' wi' ye ?' she asked.
4 No; I haven't seen her anywhere. Why
should you think she would be with me ?' he
answered, with a touch of impatience. e Did
she say so ?'
41 thocht ye micht hae fa'en in wi' her on
her way hame.'
4 Is that the orra man's coat lying there ?9
exclaimed Brandreth. 4 Surely I know that
light tweed.'
4 Ay; he tore the sleeve, an' I hae mended
the tear.'
4 Does he pay you ?'
4 For mending his claes ? I wadna tak' ony-
thing frae the likes o' him. He's puir and
freendless.'
41 wish I were the orra man.' said Brandreth.
TIB.
4 Why, surely ye wadna cheenge places wi'
him 1'
4 Yes, willingly, if you would smile,on me
as you do on him.'
4 I dinna smile on the orra man mair than
on ony ither body/ said Tib gravely. 4 He's a
lonely kin' o' cratur, an' I'm sorry for him.'
Tib shivered a little. The wind was snell,
and blew the snowflakes into the room, where
they melted.
4 Are you cold ?' said Brandreth anxiously.
' No,' she replied. 4 Somebody treading on
my grave, vera likely.'
41 am most inconsiderate, Miss Shiel,' con-
tinued Brandreth. 41 did not come here to
discuss the merits of the orra man, but to tell
you that you are the most beautiful woman I
ever saw.'
4 Oh, Maister Brandreth ! I was wunnering
what brocht ye to oor door the noo, but it
never entered my heid that ye thocht yon!'
cried Tib, in much perturbation. 4 Oh, ye
shouldna lauch at me !'
He had not miscalculated the effect of this
bold compliment. Tib was plainly much
moved. From any of the farm labourers the
TIB. i5i
words would have been nothing; from Mr.
Brandreth's lips they meant a good deal.
Brandreth had resolved to storm the citadel
by force. Did he really think so much of her
as he implied ? She must have misjudged
him terribly, and she inwardly reproached
herself that she had ever made unkind remarks
about Gordon Brandreth to her sister.
4 I am not laughing, Miss Shiel. God for-
bid that I should on such a subject! I am in
sober earnest.'
4 I doot ye hae no' seen meikle,' said Tib,
recovering her equanimity. 4 Besides, I daur-
say ye've said yon to mony a lass afore me.'
4 No, no; I assure you I have not!' he
cried.
He paused. Were there not several
occasions on which he had used almost pre-
cisely similar language to Clova ? How
dreadfully limited the vocabulary of love was
when it had to be applied to two different
individuals ! Still, he did not think he had
been in the habit of calling Clova 4 beautiful.'
He fancied that 4 pretty,' or 4 charming,' were
the more ordinary epithets he had bestowed
upon her. Of course he had no intention of
*52
TIB.
playing Clova false. Only lie would like to
see whether he could not move that disdainful
Tib Shiel to acknowledge his claims to respect.
If during the process Tib should lose her
heart to him, that would be her fault, not his.
As for himself, he had no fears on the score of
his fidelity to Clova. Brandreth forgot that
it is sometimes dangerous to play with two-
edged weapons, and that they are apt to cut
both wTays. He was about to speak again,
when Tib gave a low exclamation, evidently
of pleasure.
Clova was at some little distance from
Brandreth. Owing to the snow covering the
path, he had not heard her approach.
' Ye're the first to tread upon the kail-
stocks, Maister Brandreth,' said Clova's gay
voice, ' an' it's Hallowe'en. Hae ye brocht
luck wi' ye, do ye think ?'
Clova's archness was thrown away upon
Brandreth. He was mentally indignant at
her inopportune return. She stood before
the fire, shaking the snowflakes from her hat
and shawl. Brandreth, standing at the door,
appeared a veritable snow man. But his
eyes gleamed as he glanced towards Tib-
TIB.
T53
Clova had naturally accepted Brandreth's
arrival as a token of his desire to please her.
She thought it so good of him to come.
Probably he meant to say something about
her singing at the Penny Beading.
' It's ower late to bid ye stay langer,'
continued Clova.
' Maister Brandreth is gane,' said Tib.
' Gane, an' ne'er said onything to me!'
ejaculated Clova. ' Ye maun hae angered him
some gait; he's generally that particular anent
his manners.'
' He didna even nod his heid, but just gaed
awa' into the wood, an' I think it was time.'
£ Oh, Tib, I've had sic a nicht! Let's dance,'
cried Clova, throwing her arms round her
sister's waist, and making her move quickly
up and down the little room. 6 This is ane o'
the daft nichts, like Hogmanay an' the New
Year. I maun dance, Tib! How can I be
slow and sedate like ye, when the blood is fair
tingling in my feet, sae that I can hardly
keep still ? An' ye're a guid dancer, licht on
yer feet, although ye're that tall.'
Then Clova stopped, breathless and laugh-
ing, and leaned panting against the window,
154 TIB.
while Tib stood near her, trying to frown, but
smiling in spite of herself.
' Losh, Tib, were ye ever young like ither
lassies ? Ye're far ower grave an' serious.'
4 Whiles I think I was aye auld-fashioned,
an' troubled aboot getting oor breid. But a
body may be ower onxious.'
4 Noo, I'm no' the least bit wearied. I
could sing an' dance until the day breaks.'
4 Weel, ye can lie as lang as ye like i' the
morning ; there's naething to hurry ye up.
Clova, was he at the Penny Beading ?'
4 He ? Whatna he ?'
4 Yer lad—Number Ten,' said Tib. ' Oh,
gin he be yer true sweetheart, I hope he's a
gude man.'
4 The very best,' replied Clova. 4 But dinna
be speiring at me anent him. Ye'll ken sune,
sune ; an' when ye do hear ye'll get a meikle
surprise, or I'm sair mista'en.'
4 Can ye really hae made up yer mind, an'
ye didna tell me ? Wha can he be ? Hae I
seen him, an' do I like him ? Whaur will ye
bide ? Has he gotten a hoose ? When is't
to be ?' cried Tib, all in a breath. 4 What'll I
do without ye ?'
TIB.
T55
' Keep me! I'm that sleepy I can hardly
haud up my heid,' exclaimed Clova. ' I
maun awa' to bed this meenit. Losh, I was
havering, naething but havering. When I'm
4
getting my providing it'll be sune eneuch to
say I'm gaun to be married.'
' Ay, but ye spoke terrible earnest,' said
Tib.
4 Did I ? Weel, as ye ance remarked, it's
an important subject. I'm for nae mair the
nicht. Ye ken I was aye an awfu' lassie to
haver, an' tell gowks' tales.'
Some hours later, in the dawn of the
wintry morn, Clova awakened from her
slumbers, and, propping herself on her elbow,
glanced through between the curtains of the
dark box bed where she slept. Tib had risen
and kindled the fire. The red and yellow
flames shone on the brass candlesticks, the
corner cupboard where the sisters kept their
mother's wedding china, the eight-day clock,
and old silver watch, which Tib had inherited
as the eldest of the family.
Tib was sitting on a little three-legged
stool, carefully surveying herself by the fire-
light in the mirror Clova had recently
r56
TIB
condemned as too small. Was slie really as
beautiful as Brandreth had asserted ? Beauti-
ful ? Was not that one of the strongest
expressions of admiration that could be used ?
4 Bless me, Tib! is't possible ye're looking
at yersel' in a mirror ? Ye that couldna be
fashed wi' sic vanities ! I doot ye're in love.'
Tib started at Clova's unexpected exclama-
tion, and let the mirror fall upon the stone
hearth, where it was shivered to atoms.
£ I thocht ye was sleeping,' she said.
4 What a fricht ye gie'd me.'
4 Ay, an' ye hae broken the gless. Gin it
had been puir me, what wad ye hae said ?'
4 It's awfu' unlucky to break a looking-
gless.'
4 I've aye heard it was a very bad omen;
sae it is, for your pocket. We'll get a new
mirror, at ony rate, an' meikle need! The
orra man is gaun to Fernlea the day some
messages to the mistress, an' he'll bring it wi'
him. Tell him to remember, for I canna do
wanting a looking-gless.'
4 Ay, I'll be seeing the orra man when I
gang to the barn. I'll tak' his coat wi' me.'
She shook out the coat she had mended,
hanging it on the back of a chair. The orra
man had worn the coat a good deal, and the
impression of his shoulders still lingered upon
the cloth. Tib stroked the place where the
orra man's shoulders had so often been, and
then folded the garment into a neat bundle.
4 That'll be a sacred coat i' the orra man's
een,' said Clova, laughing. 4 Ah, he spiled
Oman Little's sang because ye gie'd awa' his
reid gerannum. Mercy ! I think I hear Oman
trying to reach that high note in 44 Jock o'
Hazeldean." What a skirl it was, to be sure !'
Tib tucked the orra man's coat under her
arm, and, unfastening the door, walked out
into the bitterly cold winter's morning. The
sun was rising in wild, stormy splendour of
rosy fire over the eastern hills, and a keen
rime was spread over the white, snow-covered
earth, filling the valley with billowy vapours.
The sharp air caught Tib's breath, making
her cough and sneeze. But she hardly felt
the intense rawness of the atmosphere. She
was thinking of Gordon Brandreth, and of the
expression of his eyes when he told her she
was the most beautiful woman he had ever
seen.
CHAPTER XIII.
HE roof of the threshing - mill at
Eskmains, in common with others
in the district, was low, and pointed
at the top into a peak, whereon was placed a
gilded weathercock. This last was not a usual
adjunct, but was a fancy of Mr. Carroch's.
Five stone pillars supported the roof, which
formed a protection from the weather, while
the open space left between allowed the
horses light and air as they tramped patiently
round and round in a circle, working the
machinery for threshing the corn. Snow lay
thickly upon the roof, while beyond was a
strip of faint blue sky, across which heavy
clouds were being driven by a fierce north
wind. The orra man was leaning against one
of the pillars. He was smoking a pipe, but
TIB,
l59
instantly removed it from his mouth as Tib
came up. In his short linen jacket, corduroy
knickerbockers, and red velveteen waistcoat,
he was at once a manly and picturesque figure.
Everywhere the snow lay white and deep.
There had been a heavy fall during the night,
and consequently no out-door employment
could be followed. It was still early; there
was little stir in the farmyard. Tib had
intended going to the barn, where she thought
she would probably be required to help, if Mr.
Carroch thought fit to thresh out some of the
new harvest, but she paused on seeing the
orra man.
4 Ye're no' at yer wark yet ?' said she.
' The grieve has not come back from the
big house with orders/ replied Yule. 4 I am
the orra man, j ack - of - all - trades and master
of none. Must obey instructions from head-
quarters/
'I hae brushed an' mended yer Sabbath
coat,' pursued Tib. ' There wasna a great
deal wrang, but the buttons were maistly
loose, sae I sewed them on/
4 Oh, you need not have troubled,' said Yule
loftily.
160 TIB.
' But ye canna sew. I saw ye yestreen
trying to draw a meikle hole thegither i' yer
stocking heel. Ye were sticking the needle
aftener i' yer fingers than i' the claith.'
' Ay, you lift one up with one hand, only to
knock one down with the other. Pray don't
put yourself out about mending my clothes;
I'll do them myself.'
4 There's nae use stabbing yer finger to the
bane when it can be avoided.'
4 What does it matter about my wretched
fingers, when my heart is stabbed to the core
by a haughty lassie's cruel words ?'
4 An' wha' may she be ?' inquired Tib
%
innocently.
' Oh, you cannot pretend you don't know.'
' Faith, an' I dinna hae ony idea.'
41 daresay !'
4 I'm speaking the truth, Ericht. I wad
be richt glad to hear ye were gaun to be
married.'
4 Oh, should you ?'
4 Ay; ye require looking after, an' some-
body to darn yer stockings, for ye dinna do
that weel. I wadna like to wear your darn-
ing; it maun be hard as iron.'
TIB.
161
4 So she is.'
4 You would be the better o' a wife,' cod-
tinued Tib.
4 That is Day opinion, aud I'd have her at
once if I had enough to live upon.'
'You've made up your mind, then, an'
settled to a lass, hae ye ?'
41 have; and I wasn't long at Eskmains
before I chose her.'
4 Ye'll ask me to tak' tea wi' you and your
wife occasionally ?'
41 will, Tib. I'll not sit down without you.'
4 Oh, but yer wife wadna care for that;
neither should I.'
4 My wife will like you as well as you like
yourself.'
4 That's raither ower meikle to expeck,'
said Tib, laughing. 4 Is she agreeable ?'
4 Occasionally,' replied the orra man,
regarding Tib steadfastly, 4 and sometimes
not. She's agreeable enough to other folks,
but agreeable to me only when the humour
takes her.'
4 She must be uncertain in the temper.
That's risky,' remarked Tib reflectively.
4 Oh, she's considered very good-natured,
l
162
TIB
though she does nothing but treat me with
scorn.'
4 Does she ?' cried Tib. 4 I dinna think I
wad put up wi't.'
4 What would you advise me to do ?' asked
the orra man, smiling. 4 It's an unpleasant
predicament in which to be situated. Should
I tell her what she is to me ?'
4 Has she no' guessed ?'
4 Apparently not. Maybe I might speak
too soon, and that would spoil my chances.
But, on the other hand, while I am waiting,
somebody else may slip in and run away with
her.'
Tib scarcely heard what was being said to
her; the music of Gordon Brandreth's words
was ringing in her ears, and rendered her
deaf to the orra man's voice. To think that
Brandreth should have come all that way
through the darkness and the snow to pay
her such a wonderful compliment! She
had never known that he had noticed her.
Had Tib not laughed at the schoolmaster so
often in Clova's presence she might have
repeated the encomium to her, but she knew
that her sister would be amused in her turn at
TIB.
163
her weakness in being pleased by the flattery
of the man she had once most heartily despised.
Besides, she hardly ventured to recall it even
to herself. Indeed, she was far more im-
pressed by Brandreth's praise than she would
have been had she approved of him before.
A revulsion of feeling had set in upon her.
She reproached herself for her former unkindly
sentiments, and her conscience smote her that
whilst he was admiring her, and giving her
credit for all manner of goodness, she had
been thinking of him as one of the vainest of
mankind. Her great wish now was to make
amends for her injustice.
' You are not listening !' said the orra man,
with rising indignation.
' Me ! I ken fine what ye were saying.'
4You didn't hear a word!' he exclaimed.
'You gave away the red geranium. That
was hard lines, Tib.'
' But the flower was mair suitable for
Clova.'
' I didn't give it her, and it wasn't the
same thing. It wouldn't have been much
bother to have worn it once—just once,
Tib.'
164
TIB.
41 ken ye meant weel, but I couldna fancy
mysel' wi' a reid gerannum.'
4 Is it because you didn't like the colour, or
was it because it was my scarlet geranium ?'
4 Dear keep me! whatna notions hae ye
gotten in your heid? It didna signify ae
preen wha gie'd me the flower.'
4 Ay, if Mr. Brandreth had brought
you a red geranium and asked you to wear
it when he was with you last night, you'd
have worn it, though scarlet is not your
colour.'
If scarlet were not her favourite hue, it
certainly was the tint which adorned Tib's
cheeks at that moment. She turned upon the
orra man like a flash of lightning. He faced
her with calm and provoking insouciance.
4 Ye were watching me ?' she cried. 4 Instead
0' gaun hame, ye followed me through the
wood, and gaed keeking roond the hoose! I
dinna believe the puirest tinkler that ever
sold pots an' mended umbrellas wad hae dune
the like!'
41 have not sunk so low as you suppose,'
he answered. 4 As for watching you, I
thought you were vexing about Clova and the
TIB.
Guizards, so I stayed about in the wood until
she was safely home. I saw your cottage
door opened, and by the light streaming out
across the snow I recognised the school-
master. He was the first to tread upon the
kaibstocks, was he not ? I envied him. Had
I not held back, it might have been myself.'
'I'll never speak to you again!' she pro-
tested,—e spying upon me that gait, sae fussy
an' sae interfering ! An' though I did talk a
while wi' the schulemaister, what is it to ye ?
When I opened the door I fancied it was
Clova, but she didna come back for a bit.'
41 met her as I was going to the bothy.
I saw the schoolmaster at your door, and did
not think you needed me any more.'
{ Neither I did.'
' No ; two's company, three's none.'
'1 wadna hae cared though ye had heard
every word!' continued Tib passionately;
then, remembering the communication Brand-
reth said he had come purposely to make,
she pulled the protecting brim of her sun-
bonnet further over her face.
'Weel, maybe no' just every word,' she
added apologetically, her strict sense of
i66
TIB.
veracity overcoming her intense desire to
annihilate the orra man for his impertinent
inquisitiveness into her doings; 4 for, though
there shouldna be onything particular in ane's
conversation, ane disna want to enlighten ilka
body. But it's nae business o' yours. An' as
for the reid gerannum, it was real selfish o' ye
to spile Oman Little's sang because I didna
wear your flower. What did it signify whether
Clova or me wore it ?'
4 Oh, Tib, don't be offended.'
4 I'm mair than that—I'm angry! No, ye
needna say ye're sorry. Some folk thinks
that gin they say that, it'll patch up ony
offence. There's the horses being brocht oot
o' the stable. We'll be threshing oot the
corn directly.'
4 But you must speak to me,' said the orra
man undauntedly. 4 You can't always remain
silent.'
4 Ye an' Tib been casting oot ?' observed
Oman Little, laughing, as he fastened one
horse to the wooden machinery in the middle
of the space below the pointed roof. 4 Yon's
Scotch coorting; we'll sune hae a marriage
at Eskmains.'
TIB.
167
Tib was prevented from making an indig-
nant reply by the grieve beckoning her to
go into the barn to assist in carrying the
threshed-out straw to the loft. But the
ploughman only laughed the more, assuring
Yule that fortune was smiling upon him, and
would favour his wooing.
c Ye've yer Sabbath coat hinging upon yer
arm/ said Donald Bain. 4 Tib was mending
it till ye, wasna she ? That'll be the reason
ye're loth to part wi't.'
' Yule, the maister says ye're to sweep the
snaw frae the path to the hoose,' said the
grieve, ' an' syne ye'll tak' Dandy to the
smiddy to get a new shoe. Noo, George and
Peter, ye're no' to fling snawba's at the horses
in the mill. Maister Brandreth's gaun
through the steading, sae ye'd better behave,
or ye'll catch't. What's he wanting ?'
' He was seeking a newspaper he had lent
mother.'
' Peter, will you hang my coat up for me ?'
said the orra man. ' The rafter next the fire
is where I keep my clothes.'
Peter agreed, and went off with George.
Brandreth, having obtained the paper, was
i68
TIB.
going past the bothy as the Carroch boys
came up.
'Why are you going in there?' he asked.
' Are not you forbidden from entering the
bothy ?'
' Generally,' said Peter; ' but this is an
exception. The orra man wants me to put
his coat away for him. This coat is an awfully
jolly one—such lots of pockets inside and
out. When I'm a man I shall have heaps of
pockets too.'
Brandreth watched Peter trying to throw
the coat on to the rafter as he had seen its
owner doing, but the boy failed in his attempt
owing to the shortness of his stature. So the
schoolmaster, despite Peter's remonstrances,
placed Yule's property on the top of the
violin case, amidst a collection of boots,
books, leggings, newspapers, tools, and har-
ness, belonging to the other men.
' A queer wardrobe,' he remarked, ' but good
enough for him.'
' How splendidly the orra man plays !' said
George.
4 Yes; mother wanted him to play to her
some evening and have supper afterwards, but
TIB. 169
father would not let her. He said that what-
ever he might be in reality he was only an
orra man at present,' remarked Peter.
4 He's going to marry Tib Shiel,' said
George.
4 What!' ej aculated Brandreth.
4 Yes, so everybody thinks. At any rate,
he admires her no end. She's too big a
woman for my taste, though,' said Peter, with
splendid condescension. 4 He gave Tib a
flower last night, and because she got Clova
to wear it instead, he was in such a state of
mind that he spoiled Little's song.'
41 shouldn't suppose that she—that—that
Tib would have anything to do with the orra
man,' said Brandreth.
4 Oh, why not ?'
4 No one knows where he came from, or why
he should be reduced to occupy such a humble
position when it is evident he was born to
something much better.'
4 Mother believes he has been the victim of
some misfortune, and that makes him all the
more interesting in her eyes; and father says
he is a fine worker—no one can beat him on
the farm since he got plenty to eat.'
170 TIB.
4 Peter wants to learn the violin, and the
orra man was going to teach him,' broke in
George. 'But father thinks that musical
people are always wastrels and get into bad
company, and that is why the orra man is
where he is.'
4 Yes, it's too bad of father; he can't
possibly have anything against Yule,' ex-
claimed Peter hotly. 4 It is abominable to
prevent me from learning the violin. I can
do the 44 Practice of the First Shift" already.'
4 Peter, Peter,' said Brandreth,4 Mr. Carroch
is perfectly right about the orra man, and if I
hear any more insubordination to your father's
authority you will have a good taste of the
tawse, I can tell you.'
It was unusual for Brandreth to threaten in
that way, but continual repetition of the orra
man's virtues had become insufferable to him,
and stank in his nostrils. He had always
sympathised deeply with Balak, thinking how
trying it must have been to his temper for
the Israelites to be blessed when he had paid
Balaam large sums of money to curse them.
He should be glad if he could get rid of the
orra man from the neighbourhood. But he could
TIB.
hear of nothing to his disadvantage. None of
the folks at the farm town had aught against
Ericht Yule. Curiosity had burned within
their breasts for a while ; then they had become
accustomed to the orra man.
' He was real quiet, a decent lad ; he never
made no disturbance,' was the opinion of his
fellow-workmen. Not that they knew any-
thing more about him than they had done at
the first. He talked and laughed, and at
times gave the impression of being very con-
fidential, but of his private affairs, his previous
occupation, his past, he never spoke.
Brandreth turned over the pages of the
newspaper he had fetched from Eskmains; he
had wanted it because of an answer to an
acrostic he had tried to find out. He always
read the advertisements; to him these were
often the most amusing part of the paper.
Glancing at a particular corner, usually de-
voted to messages from despairing lovers,
his eye was attracted by the following
advertisement:—
' If E. Y. will return home, all will be
forgotten and forgiven. Eeward offered for
information of said E. Y. Tall, dark hair and
172 TIB.
eyes, wears moustache. When last seen had
on light tweed clothes.—B. & M., solicitors,
Deerhope.'
Did this apply to the orra man ? Brandreth
judged it would be only his duty were he to
answer the above.
CHAPTER XIY.
brief December day was closing
rapidly, afternoon school was
over at Yalros, and the children,
satchel on back and slate in hand, delighted
at being released from durance vile, had rushed
down the brae to the road with the velocity of
liberated whirlwinds, and were going home
laughing and chattering to each other across
the tawny, withered grass fields or wide brown
moorlands.
#
Brandreth was sitting alone in the school-
room, which felt empty and silent without the
buzz and clamours of the young, merry voices.
He rose and stretched himself out lazily in
front of the fire on a big deer - skin, and
prepared to indulge in the luxury of a few
minutes' introspection and dreams of Tib Shiel.
i74
TIB.
He had spoken within the mark when he told
her that she was seldom out of his thoughts.
Indeed, there were few moments of the day
that he was not thinking of her. Tib's image
came between him and his little scholars; her
eyes looked out at him from the pages of the
Greek poets he read in the evenings, causing
the crabbed characters to dance before him;
her voice was in his ears when he lay wrapped
in blissful reveries during the watches of the
night. But he scarcely ever saw Tib. She
had refused to join his evening classes on the
score of having no time to spare, and as Clova
had not sung again at the Penny Readings,
Tib had been to no more. An accidental
glimpse of her in her working garb at Esk-
mains, cutting turnips for the sheep in a field
hard by, or sitting in the grey half-dusk of the
large barn mending sacks, or carrying bundles
of golden, gleaming straw poised on her head,
was the most he had seen of her for several
weeks, and these short interviews always left
him longing for the next.
The gloaming had changed into darkness;
Black Cairn was shrouded in mist, and the
pine trees at its foot were scarcely blacker
TIB.
175
than the great mountain. Stars were shining
in the sky, and the wintry wind was sobbing
and sighing amidst the branches of the sombre
yews near the schoolhouse.
'" Where hast thou been, thou Gordon so gay ?
In the bog of Drumclog, making the hay."
Ye'll no' mak' meikle hay at Eskmains or up
Noran Water the day, Gordon !'
4 Clova! this is positively too much of a
good thing,' exclaimed Brandreth.
4 Can ye hae ower meikle o' a gude thing ?'
she asked, laughing. 4 Ye didna hear me
come in; ye were glowering frae ye into
the fire.'
Clova was evidently armed for conquest.
She had on a smart jacket trimmed with fur,
and new earrings of blue and gold in her small
ears, and she was wearing a blue and gold ring
upon the fourth finger of her left hand.
4Tuts! Yer auld hoosekeeper's awa' to
Valros for candles an' matches. I met her
as I came 'yont the brae. This is the nicht
for cheenging books at yer library. I didna
want to come ava, but Tib had finished her
book, an' sent me for anither volume.'
176
TIB.
Brandreth sprang up with alacrity.
4 Why don't Tib come herself? You ought
to help her with the house-work. She never
seems able to leave home.'
' Ye're surely meikle interested in Tib in
these days,' said Clova, smiling. 41 am glad
ye're liking her some better. But she disna
think onybody can sweep the floor as weel's
hersel', and does it a' ower again after me.
She's no' sweeping the nicht, though. Andrew
M'Nab's bairn has been greeting sax 'oors on
end, an' Tib's sitting wi't while its mither has
gone to get some draps frae the shop at
Valros for't.'
4 Oh, I had forgotten it was the library
night,' remarked Brandreth. 4 How lucky
that you reminded me! I daresay a good
many people will want new books. Have
you read this, Clova ?'
4 N o ; I dinna care for reading unless it is
a love story and ends happily—ane 0' thae
tales whaur the puir lassie turns into a grand
leddy, that's my taste. Do ye see whaur the
stane is lost oot o' the ring ?'
' Did you lose a stone ? I did not recollect
you did.'
TIB.
177
4 Ay; I told ye at the Flower Show/
4 Oh, but that is months ago/ said Brandreth
indifferently; 41 could not be expected to burden
my memory with such a trifle for so long. The
ring fits you nicely/
4 Sae it should; ye had it made for me.
Ye'll let me hae the ring back sune ?. I've
a kin' o' feeling anent parting wi't. Mony's
the time I've kissed the ring when Tib's been
awa' oot.'
4 It depends entirely upon the jeweller in
Fernlea. But I will give him instructions to
be as quick as possible. If he has a stock
of torquoises, a few minutes will do all that is
necessary. Does that please you ?'
Brandreth fastened the ring into its case.
He evidently expected that Clova would then
take her departure. There was a certain cold-
ness in his tone which struck strangely on the
girl's ear. Brought up in an atmosphere
of tenderness by Tib's protecting care, she
could not help perceiving the alteration in
his manner. But she was no quicker to
read its portent than the ignorant student
is to decipher the hieroglyphics of Hebrew.
Several times of late she had noticed a
M
178
TIB.
sharpness and impatience about Brandreth
while with him. She had ascribed his vari-
able temper to his being vexed about the
school. Teaching is occasionally rather an
exhausting profession, and even the cleverest
children will sometimes have fits of stupidity
and inattention. This simple and natural
explanation quite satisfied Clova.
The schoolroom was looking somewhat
forlorn and deserted with the rows of empty
forms and desks. Brandreth had not made
up the fire, and the embers were fast dying
out. He opened the glass doors of the case
containing the books he was in the habit of
lending the general public at Valros. Perhaps
it was owing to his standing near the tall
master's desk, under the light of a couple of
candles, that such dark circles were imprinted
beneath his eyes, and that the lines on his face
seemed to have grown deeper. Clova showed
no signs of going away, and, strange to say,
for once appeared at a ]oss for conversation.
' What book does Tib wish ?' asked Brand-
r eth.
4 Sesame an' Lilies. Sesame's an awful
queer word, isna it ?'
TIB
179
e I am sorry it is out.'
4 Gordon,' said Clova gently, 4 Tib's quite
converted, an' in a new mind anent
ye-'
4 Is she ?' replied Brandreth.
The abrupt harshness of his voice surprised
Clova, but she was not startled. She did not
know what it was to be unkindly spoken to,
for she had never had a rough word said to
her in her life.
She had no idea that what she had stated
about Tib's warmer feelings towards him had
O
fired Brandreth's blood, and set his pulses
beating fast. Tib liked him, then! Had it
not been for his foolishness in getting into
this entanglement with Clova, he might have
gained the woman who would have suited him
as only kindred souls suit each other. What
a piece of malicious irony it was that both
he and she had awakened too late to the
knowledge!
4 An' that being sae, ye'll no' mind me
telling her aboot ye, Gordon ? She kens I
hae gotten a sweetheart; but I've no' let on
his name.'
4 How you do worry about that, Clova!
i8o
TIB.
You can't think how your doing so irritates
me!'
4 I'm no' meaning ony harm,' said she.
4 Surely it's natural I should want to talk o'
ye wi' my ain sister !'
4 Why do you doubt me ?' cried Brandreth.
4 But I see how it is—your own caprice is
more to you than my express wish.'
4 No, no !' exclaimed the girl despairingly.
4 Ye dinna comprehend me, Gordon. Tib's
the only cratur belanging me, an' I feel mysel'
that deceitfu' keeping this frae her. She's
no' like a glaikit lass that wad spread it
ower the haill countryside. She's discreet an'
sensible, an' wadna breathe a word o't unless
ye gie'd her leave.'
4 When a secret passes beyond the keeping
of two people it is no longer a secret,' said
Brandreth. 41 warn you that if you press
this point, it will cause unpleasantness
between us. It is not the first time that I
have told you this plainly.'
r
4 Ane wad suppose ye were ashamed o' me,
an' that's the reason ye're sae determined
naebody shall ken. Folks declare ye hae
gotten a new sweetheart.'
TIB.
181
' Do they ?' he asked. 'Who is it ?
4 The grand leddy frae Fernlea, wi' the pink
feather in her hat, at the Flower Show i' the
simmer/
' Oh, from Fernlea ?' said he, much relieved.
'Ye're no' denying it, because there's nae
need. I'm no' feared for ye. It's no' on
accoont o' ony idle tale that I'm keen for Tib
to be told. Ye wad hae felt it cruel, maybe,
the day o' the Flower Show, never to be noticed
as a freend, but passed by wi' a cauld, stiff
bow, had ye been in my place. Yet I wadna
spoil yer future for the warld; no, though my
chance o' heaven depended on it. I'm caring
aboot Tib; she disna reproach me, but I can
see weel eneuch she thinks she should hae my
confidence.'
' Why the mischief did you say you had a
lover? I did not expect you would have
broken faith and betrayed me.'
'Yer name has never passed my lips,
Gordon. How do ye look at me that gait, sae
dour an' hard ? Ye're no' like yersel' I What
is't, what is't ?'
41 am afraid you will be pained by what I
am about to tell you,' began Brandreth. 41
182
TIB.
perceive that you are restless and unsettled
with this uncertainty. I think we had better
not meet so often.'
£ Often!' echoed the girl, aghast at his
statement. 4 Then I dinna ken what ye ca'
seldom. There was a time when ye thocht we
didna meet near eneuch, when ye were vexed
wi' Tib for no' letting me come to the schule
to practeese my singing wi' ye for the Penny
Reading.'
' I have learned to be of Tib's mind in this
matter.'
£ An' noo ye dinna ask me even to help ye
at the Penny Readings. But ye needna, for I
wadna sing at them. The leddy frae Fernlea
'11 be a fine singer, sae ye'll no' miss me.'
£ She cannot hold a candle to you in that
respect.'
eAy, but she can in ithers. Can it be,
Gordon,'—a sudden suspicion causing Clova's
blue eyes to dilate with dread,—£ that ye hae
wearied o' me, an' found somebody ye like
better ?'
There is a silence more eloquent than any
words, and yet differing in degree. The
most complete acquiescence, the most perfect
TIB,
183
detestation, can all be conveyed without a
single syllable being spoken. Gordon Brand-
reth was silent. His dumbness told Clova
Shiel he agreed with her supposition that he
was tired of her. Neither did Clova speak.
She stood beside the master's wooden desk,
carved with the initials of many a light-
hearted schoolboy, who had cut his name
there in a moment's leisure unobserved by
the dominie, pressing her hand against the
sharp edge, so that it should hurt to the
highest point of endurance.
4 There is no misery on earth equal to that
of an unhappy marriage, which ours most
certainly would have been,' he went on,
4 You will soon get over this fancy; you are
such a child yet, Clova, that you will have
a dozen more before you find the right
man.'
4 Oh, it's far better to rue in time,' said the
girl.
4 We were never engaged, and therefore we
have nothing to break off. It was only if
things went well, and we were both in the
same mind. You know I always said that,
did not I ?'
184
TIB.
4 Ay; nae wunner that ye were terrified
for me letting on aboot ye, even to Tib, when
ye were looking forward to our parting i' the
end. Ay, nae wunner !'
4 No, Clova; I haven't done this intention-
ally. I swear it came upon me before I knew
where I was.'
4 Ay; ye're meaning the new love. I
%
daursay ye canna help't. Folk canna guide
their hearts wi' bit an' bridle. She'll be
clever, the new ane, an' able to criticise yer
essays an' poetry. I'm no' clever; I can do
naething but love ye, an' that disna coont for
meikle.'
4 If I could have avoided inflicting this
annoyance upon ye'—
%
4 Oh, I dinna blame ye,' she interrupted.
41 was aye teasing ye aboot telling Tib,
an' ye lost patience. I dinna tak't in richtly
yet,'—putting her hands to her head in a
puzzled way,—4 it'll be clearer to me when I'm
sitting sewing my lane at hame, an' Tib is oot-
bye. My warst wish is that ye may never
suffer as ye hae garred me suffer.'
4 You are very forgiving,' said Brandreth.
41 can hardly believe it's me, though, that's
TIB. 185
been treated this gait—me that has had sae
mony sweethearts, too I'
4 Girls with many admirers are often left
lamenting at last.'
4 Still, plenty o' sweethearts has advantages,'
—smiling a little, and drawing herself np.
41 can be married whenever I want. Dinna
I
think I'll brak my heart because I hae lost
ye/
4Oman Little, I suppose ?' replied Brand-
reth, with undisguised contempt.
c No. Do you imagine I wad look at him,
although he is a gude man an' kind ? Ye're
no' kenning me after a' the 'oors we've spent
thegither,—an' some o' them were pleasant,
werena they %' with a pathetic intonation in
her voice.
4 Yes,' said Brandreth laconically. 41 think
your ring can be ready by next Monday; I
should like you to have the ring. And,
Clova'— Brandreth hesitated.
4 Oh, ye needna fear that I'll publish the
newrs abroad aboot ye, for yer new sweetheart
michtna like hearing o' the auld ane. As for
the ring, ye've gotten it back wi' yer troth.
Keep the ring yersel'. Keep it Mondays,
i86
TIB.
Tuesdays, Wednesdays—a the days o' the
week, in fact. I'm no' wanting it back again.'
Brandreth heaved a sigh of profound relief
when Clova had shut the door of the school-
house behind her. He was quit of all
responsibility towards her, and could court
Tib with a clear conscience. Nevertheless, he
hoped Clova would not be induced eventually,
despite her protestation, to marry that un-
couth though worthy son of the soil, Oman
Little. The girl whom Brandreth had once
believed he loved, as he now loved her sister,
was too good for such an ignominious ending.
CHAPTEE XV.
HE winter had been wonderfully open,
with little snow excepting on the
summits of the hills, Black Cairn
himself had some pure white patches lying in
deep corries, but down below at his feet there
had been none for several weeks. The dead
bracken showed brownish - red against the
undertones of pale faded grasses and brilliant
tints of light green mosses. Black Cairn
condescended to show his noble brow free from
encircling mists for once, standing clear and
splendid in the flickering light of the bright
spring afternoon. The moor, dotted here and
there with big boulders, was covered with
bushy heather several feet in height. Donald
Bain was driving a flock of blackfaced sheep
along an uneven track full of great ruts and
187
188 TIB.
pools of water into a ploughed field, where
turnips were waiting in feeding-troughs for the
benefit of the animals. A couple of collie
dogs, with tan markings and white-shirt frills,
were rushing about amidst the sheep. On
the outskirts of the moor some leafless birches
extended their feathery, drooping branches ;
the sunshine caught the drops of water glisten-
ing on the grey, lichen-draped twigs, changing
them into veritable silver wands.
Pretty nearly all the farm hands had turned
out to burn the heather. Mr. Carroch had
indicated certain tracts where fires were to be
kindled. Presently the labourers had divided
into different little companies, armed with
matches, sticks, and flasks of paraffin oil.
The orra man had been told off in an opposite
direction from that which Tib had been ordered
to take, but by some judicious manoeuvring he
contrived to keep with Tib.
Yule knelt down beside her, and began
trying to light a fire. Perhaps it was owing
to his attempts to obtain a glimpse of Tib's face
at the same time that his efforts failed.
c How tough and old the heather is here !'
said the orra man. ' Is it not queer that I can't
TIB.
189
%
get it to kindle, while the other lads and lassies
have got smoke enough to smother them ?'
4 Maybe they're paying attention, that's the
way,' said Tib.
41 am looking at you instead.'
41 canna bear to be looked at!' exclaimed Tib.
4 A cat may look at a king, so even a poor
orra man like me may venture to look at you,'
returned Yule.
41 wunner ye're no' tired o't, ye see me that
often. There's naething new i' my face.'
41 could never be tired of gazing at you,'
said the orra man, with involuntary tenderness.
4 Every day you're bonnier to me. But you're
put about and vexed, Tib.'
4 Weel, we're no' coming on very fast wi' oor
fire. I doot ye're in a bad temper, Ericht.
There's nae use trying to licht a fire gin ye're
in a rage. The fire kens ye're oot 0' temper
as weel as yersel'.'
41 suspect you're partly correct,' said Yule.
4 Sit down on this stone, out of the damp grass.
The man should work whilst the woman rests.'
4 Oh, I maunna be sitting doon when I should
be working, an' ye can hardly ca' this wark ;
it's a bit play. Where's the matches ?'
190
TIB.
Tib was not long in lighting the little heap
of twigs and dead leaves, which soon burned
away merrily; and she and the orra man
bent some pieces of heather downwards to
the blaze.
4 Ay, I'm putten aboot,' she went on.
4 Clova's no' looking weel ava. She has grown
sae white an' thin, an' she never sings as she
used, but sits silent an' still. I canna mak't
oot.'
4 Can I bring anything from Fernlea for
her ?' asked Yule.
4 She'll no' hae onything. I was wanting
her to tak' a bottle frae the druggist, an'
she'll no' hear o't. But ye're real obliging,
Ericht.'
4 Obliging !' echoed the orra man. 4 Is that
a word used amongst friends ? Are we no
more than acquaintances yet ? Surely we are
friends ?'
4 Ye've been a number of months here now,'
said she.
4 Yes, and how many months must I stay
before I am a friend ?' he asked. 4 Once you
>
said it would do you no good to be thought
kindly of. Am I a friend ? '
She did not glance towards him, so Ynle
could not observe the softened look in her
dark grey eyes. The afternoon light was
growing fainter, and the hills were wrapped in
soft russet tints. Great fires burned on the
4
rugged sides of the mountains; long stretches
of flame, with pearl-blue smoke, blazed on
the moor, becoming more and more brilliant as
the evening drew on. Tender, greyish-green
hues were spread over the quivering saughs
and alder bushes. Tib stepped aside, presently
returning with her apron filled with cones, the
hearts of which had been eaten by the sharp
teeth of the squirrels, and flung them into the
fire she and the orra man had kindled.
41 am a stranger here,' went on Yule.
4 You know nothing of me.'
4 No ; but I aye thocht ye had cast oot wi'
yer folk at hame. Ye should mak't up wi'
them.'
4 Sometimes a kind of despair comes over
me, but it would encourage me greatly if I
had a friend. Will you be my friend, and
help me ?'
4 How can I help you ?' asked Tib.
4 You can marry me,' said the orra man.
192 TIB.
* Mercy me !' cried Tib. 4 Marry ye !
Wha ever beard o' sic a thing ?'
4 Not many people yet—only you and 1/
said the orra man, smiling.
4 Ericht, there's the maister waving to's.'
4 Where's the orra man ?' cried Mr.
Carroch. 4 Come along, Yule, and you .too,
Tib. Peter has set the little larch wood on
fire, an' climbed one of the trees, an' he canna
get down.'
There was no doubt that Peter had managed
to place himself in a considerable predicament.
He had swarmed up to the top of an old dead
larch tree. All underneath the tree was a
mass of impenetrable whins, extending over
two acres of ground. Fanned by the breeze,
the flames spread rapidly, until the entire
4
undergrowth was a wide sheet of fire. The
only means of safety for Peter lay in his
slipping down the tree and making a rush for
it. But although he had climbed up fast
enough, his nerve had deserted him at the
critical moment, and he had not the pluck
to slide down.
The farm labourers collected together at the
edge of the cover, but none of them offered
TIB.
193
to rescue Peter. Much sorrow was expressed;
still a great risk was attached to the attempt,
and at the moment every one thought of
himself, deciding that it would only be fool-
hardiness to enter that sea of flames.
4 Here, gie's a helping hand wi' Peter, an'
dinna stand there like a pack 0' gaping
idiots !' exclaimed Mr. Carroch. 4 You that
was wi' him should hae lookit better after
him.'
41 have it!' said the orra man. 4 The long
ladder at the steading.'
4 Ay, if he can haud out until you get back,'
answered Mr. Carroch.
4 And there's lots of water in the pond.
Let all the buckets and pails about the place
be filled and put in a cart. With relays of
men we may keep down the fire.'
4 No use ; it must burn itself out,' said Mr.
Carroch. 4 The thing is, to get Peter down '
Ericht ran all the way to Eskmains. He
was actually absent but a short time, but
it seemed like many hours to Mr. Carroch.
Being burdened with the heavy weight of the
ladder, he was not able to return so quickly
as he had gone.
N
194
TIB.
4 Let's see liaud o' the ladder !' cried Mr.
Carroch. * Quick, quick ! there's nae time to
put off.'
4 No, no/ said Ericht. 4 I'll do well enough
alone.'
4 Losh, Ericht, ye shouldna gang into the
wood,' said Little. 4 Ye'll never come oot
alive. It's just sacrificing twa lives instead
o' ane.'
4 Ay, the thick reek will smoor ye,' added
Bain. 41 wadna try it for a' the gowd o'
California, though I'm vexed for the bairn,
too, an' the mistress.'
4 What a set o' cowards ye are!' cried
Tib, her eyes sparkling with indignation.
4 Will ye let the laddie be killed afore yer.
een ?'
4 Weel, he shouldna hae gotten himsel' into
sic a mess,' replied Little. 41 didna bid him
set the wood on fire.'
1 Why dinna ye say ye're feared ?' ex-
claimed Tib vehemently. 4 Oh, what con-
temptible creatures ye are ! I'll gang mysel',
an' see gin I canna shame ye.'
She made a movement as though to push
through the fire to Peter, but the orra man
\
TIB.
*95
grasped her resolutely by the shoulder and
detained her.
4 Your thin print jacket would be burned off
your back,' he said. 4 Don't hinder me, Tib,
but keep away from the heat.'
' Ay, go, Ericht,' she answered. 4 Ye're the
only man worth calling a man amang them a'.'
As he passed into the crackling flames and
stifling smoke he looked back, and saw Tib
smiling and waving her hand as if to encourage
him in his undertaking. He pressed forward
with the ladder, while the clouds of smoke hid
him from view. Peter was crying, but the
sound of his sobs was too weak to be heard
above the cracking of boughs and falling
branches, and the hissing of the fire as it
attacked some green and living piece of
wood.
4 Peter !' he shouted. 4 Peter !'
Loudly as he called, Peter did not hear, and
he would have endangered himself in vain had
not a puff of wind blown off the boy's hat and
borne it to his feet. Yule again shouted at
the top of his voice, thinking he must be near
Peter. To his joy, a faint voice answered him
through the blinding smoke. He put the
196 TIB.
ladder against the tree, and hurried up the
rungs.
Do you see me, Peter %'
' Yes.'
'You're higher up than I thought. Take
time; don't be in too great a hurry, and I'll
catch you in my arms as you slide down.'
Accordingly, Peter began descending cau-
tiously along the trunk of the tree. This was
not such an easy matter, for, after quitting
the fork where he had been sitting, there was
nothing to take a hold of for about ten feet.
Making a leap towards the orra man, he missed
his aim, and fell right down into the blazing
whins. The orra man was after him in an
instant, and lifted him up. Peter gave a
groan of pain.
' I'm awfully hurt, somehow,' he said.
' Poor little chap !' said Yule gently. ' Let
me get you out of this. Shut your eyes, or
the fire will spoil them.'
When the orra man, with the frightened boy
clinging to him, staggered out of the burning
wood into the free, fresh air once more, there
was a general rush forward to greet him.
But he and Peter were black as chimney
TIB.
197
sweeps, and Yule's hair was scorched and his
hands burned in some places. But it was
Peter about whom he was concerned. He sat
down, and took the little lad on his knee.
Peter was white and faint. He had sustained
some burns, too, and received many pricks
from the whins. But it was evident he was a
good deal injured.
' My wee man !' cried Mr. Carroch. 4 My
wee man!'
' I am afraid his left leg is broken, sir,' said
the orra man.
4 I'll carry him home myself,' said Mr.
Carroch.
' There's a doctor at the farm town the day,'
remarked Tib. e He's up-bye, vaccinating half-
a-dizen bairns.'
4 Ay, ay. We'll get him at once, then.
Little, run with what speed you're able, and
catch the doctor before he goes anywhere else.'
The orra man instinctively found his way
to Tib's side, but now that the excitement was
over she had shrunk again into her shell oi
reserve.
' Oh, Tib, I could have defied ten thousand
fires to hear that from your lips,' he said
198
TIB.
ardently. ' Are you pleased I did your bidding,
although I was not altogether successful ?'
' There were mair than twal' or fourteen
foxes ran oot o' the whins and fled awa' to
the hills. The rabbits hae been burned i' their
holes, except ane or twa that cam, to the oot-
side, their fur and bits o' tails a' singed. Puir
Mrs. Carroch ! shell be wae for Peter. An' the
maister, he's sair ta'en up aboot the burning
o' the cover.'
' What was I saying before the master
called us, Tib ?'
' Oh, just some silly thing—I dinna mind—
it was nonsense.'
' I love you dearly, Tib. Will you marry
me ?'
4 But I dinna lo'e ye. Besides, ye're a mere
laddie, and far ower young for me. Mind, I'm
getting auld.'
4 Old !' said the orra man, laughing. 4 What
do you call old ?'
' I was ane-an'-twenty last Hogmanay.'
'Oh, no doubt you're Methuselah! You'll
soon be a hundred or more.'
' I'm aye wearing on to't. Ilka day mak's a
difference.'
TIB,
199
4 I'm the same age as yourself. I was twenty-
one last birthday, and our birthdays are the
same day—Hogmanay,' said the orra man,
with dignity. 4 How old would you like
your husband to be ?'
4 No' less than saxty,' replied Tib; 4 although
I wadna want to work for him in his auld age,
either.'
4 Mr. Brandreth isn't anything like sixty.'
4 Wha was naming Maister Brandreth ?'
cried Tib.
41 shan't give up hope, and I'll buy your
wedding gown the next time I am in Fernlea.
That's the custom of the country amongst the
out-workers, isn't it ? The bridegroom always
buys the bride her gown.'
4 Ye needna fash yersel' getting a goon
to me.'
4 Dark purple's your favourite colour ? Dark
purple satin ye'll wear the day ye wed me, for
you'll be my wife before long.'
Tib smiled at the ardent face before her.
4 Ye'll never fail for want o' spunk. But I
never lo'ed onybody but Clova and mysel',
and I dinna believe it's in me.'
4 Yes, it is. You are no ordinary girl. Love
200
TIB.
will be either a great calamity to yon or a
great blessing. Perhaps your heart is not
awakened yet. If I have learned to plough
furrows straight as though ruled with a ruler,
surely you will learn how to love.'
41 doot it's the mair difficult business o' the
twa,' said Tib, laughing.
4 I'm not much of a bargain,' he went on,
4 but I love you, and would soon make a home
for you. Think it over, and take time to reflect.'
4 I'm no' refusing ye because ye're puir; I'm
used wi' poverty, an' can live on sma' wages.
But I dinna love ye. Peal love disna need to
reflect or weigh ae reason against anither.'
4 Well, I'll win you for my wife/ said the
orra man coolly.
4 We'll think nae mair o' this conversation.
We'll baith sune forget it, and gang on as
though it had never happened.'
4 Shall we ? Will it make no difference to
you ? When I opened my eyes that day on
the brae yonder last summer, and saw you look-
ing down upon me, I said to myself I would
marry you. And so I will, and you'll love me at
last as well, if not better, than I do you. Think
what you like, but that's what'll happen.'
TIB.
201
He walked to the bothy to divest himself of
the traces of smoke and smuts left upon him
by his rush through the burning cover to
rescue Peter. Tib stood still for a few minutes
in a state of mingled wrath and amazement at
the orra man's audacity. Evidently he was
not broken-hearted or even cast down by her
refusal. But he might spare himself the
trouble of laying his future again, such as it
was, at her feet, for she was as determined she
would never marry the orra man as he was
resolved to make her his own.
CHAPTER XYI.
HE day after the burning of the heather
had been begun on the moorlands
round Eskmains, Brandreth strolled
out for a walk. Towards afternoon a mist had
come up from the east, swallowing up the hills
and woods in its soft yet mysterious folds. The
fires on the heathery slopes were nearly extin-
guished by the dampness of the atmosphere,
only here and there an occasional break in the
curtain of fog revealed a splendid burst of
flame, quickly going out of sight again. As
Brandreth came near Eskmains, he saw a man
and woman proceeding slowly over the brown,
smooth surface of a ploughed field. The woman
was walking in front of the man. In the
distance the pale blue of her sun-bonnet was
assimilated to the hue of her linen apron,
202
TIB.
203
scarcely appearing as blue, while the raw sienna
of her petticoat was toned down to sombre
brown. A faded tartan shawl over her
shoulders gave a tone of brightness, while it
harmonised with the neutral colours of her
dress. Her arms moved with mechanical regu-
larity as she sowed handfuls of wheat, the
showers of grain glinting with a white, silvery
sheen upon the general greyness of the atmo-
sphere. Behind her followed Oman Little,
driving a harrow with a pair of bay horses,
their tails tied with scarlet ribbon, the steam
of their breaths rising like pearly vapour upon
the chilled air.
Presently the woman stopped sowing. Little
harrowed the remaining portion of ground just
sown, and, unloosing the horses, jumped
astride one, and came out of the field. The
woman lingered behind to pick up something
she had dropped. Brandreth watched his
opportunity, and came up to Tib. Oman
Little and his horses were fairly out of
sight.
c How dark it is!' exclaimed Brandreth.
' I never saw such a fog before. One would
think it was the dead of night/
204
TIB.
' The result o' an easterly haar an' burning
the heather yestreen; that aye brings mist
an' rain.'
Brandreth and Tib stood still for a moment.
Overhead was a curious whirring, swishing
noise, accompanied by a muffled sound. Both
were startled, until Tib declared she thought
it was occasioned by a flock of crows flying
home, cawing as they went through the dense
mist, which deadened the voices of the birds,
giving an inexpressible eeriness to their hoarse
notes.
4 Isna this a maist extraordinar fog ?' con-
tinued Tib.
'Yes, but a very lucky one for me. For
once I have actually got you to myself. In
this dense mist we are as much alone as though
no other people existed but our two selves.
Tib—may I call you Tib ?'
' There's no' mony folk but what ca's me that,'
said she. ' Is't a new custom for ye to say Tib?'
'I never presumed before to address you by
your Christian name.'
' It's short eneuch, at ony rate.'
4 But sweet—like yourself. Don't go farther
away. I shall lose you in this darkness, per-
TIB. 205
haps never to find you again. Come nearer;
or, stay, let me come nearer to you. Give me
your hand. You must lead me out of this
fog to Yalros. What a blessing we met each
other! I should have been lost without you.'
4 Oh, ye're fine whaur ye're standing. I can
hear ilka word ye say.'
4 But if you don't let me take your hand
we shall get separated. I don't know the
wood so well as you, and if you leave me I
may wander about until the morning. That's
right; I have you fast, so it's no use trying
to run off, as you have so often done. I want
to ask you a question. Can't you guess what
it is ?'
4 Yes; it's whether I likit yer essay on the
4
Merchant 0' Venice. I thocht it gey weel
writ.'
4 No; nothing about the melancholy
Antonio, of whom I feel almost jealous, for
he has evidently completely fascinated you.
It is possible you have not seen that I am
*
interested in you ?'
4 You've been real attentive, lending me
books. But I canna bide here, Maister Brand-
reth; I maun be up at the big hoose serving
206
TIB.
the milk to the customers. The mistress is
ta'en up wi' Peter. He broke his leg falling
frae the tree i' the cover yestreen, an' he's in
bed, real unweel.'
4 I meant to call and ask after him. But
there is no hurry for you—the time for serving
the milk is past.'
4 Oh, surely I've no' been that careless, an'
let the 'oor gang by talking to ye when I
should hae been at Eskmains !'
4 An' what did you think of my lending you
books ?'
4 Oh, it was unco kind o' ye. When we're
no' moving ye're no' needin' my hand, Maister
Brandreth. We canna loss ane anither when
we're standing still.'
41 am not so sure of that! You might
start away from me, and where should I be ?
Left alone in the mist! Have you not seen
that I loved you ?'
Her glowing cheeks and downcast eyes
would have confessed the truth could he have
beheld them. As it was, he heard her breath-
ing quicker, and was aware that she had not
listened to him unmoved.
4 Tib, you love me, don't you ?' went on
TIB.
207
Brandreth. 41 know you do ; you can't deny
it. I shan't believe you if you say you don't.
But I must hear you tell me in your own
words, " I love you, Gordon." Is not that it?'
4 Oh, Maister Brandreth !' she said. ' Oh,
Maister Brandreth!'
Brandreth did not wait any further reply
on Tib's part. He threw his arms round her,
and drew her to his breast, and showered
kisses on her lips. And Tib let herself rest in
his embrace with a sense of happiness and
perfect peace she had never known before.
She had not to 'consider' whether she loved
Gordon Brandreth. Her heart told her at
once, and she did not require to reflect for a
single moment.
4 Call me Gordon, and then I shall realise it
is not a dream, from which I shall awaken
to find it time to teach the children in the
school.'
Like a child, she obediently repeated after
him 4 Gordon.' Then, after a moment or two,
she added, ' We maunna forget Clova in the
midst o' oor joy.'
' Clova ! Who in heaven's name wants to
bother about her ?' cried Brandreth.
208 TIB.
He was thankful for the intense, all-pervad-
ing blackness of the fog, which prevented Tib
from seeing the expression of his face. He
felt sure that his countenance must have
betrayed him at this unexpected remark.
4We maun think o' her; she canna be
left alane. She maun bide wi's, Maister
Brandreth.'
4 Mr. Brandreth again !' said he reproach-
f„ny.
4 It's no' that easy to think o' ye as Gordon,'
said she. 4 I'll do it better by and by. Are
ye willing that Clova's hame should be wi's ?'
4 She had better follow your example, and
get married herself.'
4Ance I thocht she wad, for she had a
sweetheart, but she wadna let on his name to
me. Mony a time I saw her busy making her
bits o' providing an' singing awa' till hersel'.
Lord, gin I could meet the man that played
her fause, an' garred her cheeks grow pale an'
thin, I think I could kill him !'
4 She shall live with us if she cares to do so.
Would I not grant a much harder request than
that ?—your first request, too. And now, in
turn, I must beg something from you.
TIB.
209
' What is it, Gordon ?'
' Although it may seem a bad beginning, I
do not wish you to talk about our engagement,
even to Clova, until you can at the same time
say that our wedding-day is fixed.'
4 No' tell Clova ! Half 0' the pleasure is gane
when I canna speak o't to her. I'm fair daft
to hear her opinion, an' get her gude wishes.
She will lauch at me an' tease me, for we
used aye to joke aboot ye, an' think ye were
conceited an' filled wi' thochts 0' naething but
yersel'!'
Brandreth winced. Even so had Clova
longed to share the happy news with her
sister of Brandreth's love. It was in support-
able that the situation with Clova should be
repeated with Tib. Still, if he wished to carry
this second love to a successful conclusion,
he must lay the same prohibition upon Tib
as he had formerly laid upon Clova. At any
rate, he had never been engaged to Clova.
Did the worst come to the worst, he was
determined to brazen the thing out. He had
frequently said to himself he had acted quite
kindly by Clova. He had been willing to
continue the understanding with her had she
0
2 IO
TIB.
been contented with the arrangement ; but
she had been far from being contented, and
had never ceased fretting on the subject.
Consequently, Brandreth had come to the
conclusion that their conditional friendship
had better end. And Clova had agreed that
was the best course to pursue. Otherwise,
he would have been only too proud for Tib
to have told her sister, and, for that matter,
all Yalros besides. Especially he would have
liked that the orra man should know that the
prize he coveted was already secured. With
Tib he would have consented to live for ever
in the little old thatched schoolhouse at
Yalros. So long as she were with him, it
would not have seemed as though his talents
were hidden under a bushel. Were she his
wife he would be reconciled to the drudgery
of teaching, for would not the communion of
kindred souls compensate for the hardness of
his toil ? Tib's influence drew out what was
best and noblest in him; with her he felt a
different and better man.
' She told me you thought me a most con-
ceited person,' said Brandreth at length.
4 Clova said yon !' exclaimed Tib. ' Was
TIB.
211
the lassie on sic terms wi' ye she could venture
to speak that gait ?'
4 We were—we are—great friends,' answered
Brandreth incoherently. 4 One of my favourite
pupils, you know.'
41 cautioned her against ye, for I feared ye
were the kin' that leads a lassie on, an' syne
throws her ower. I tell't her no' to listen to
yer compliments/
4 What a dreadful opinion you must have
had of me !' cried Brandreth.
4 Mony a man does that and thinks he hasna
dune ony ill. It's when I see Clova sae
changed that I feel how cruel it is to daff wi'
a lassie, an' gar her believe ye're in love wi'
her when ye're no' meaning ony thing. But
ye wad never do that.'
4 No, no,' said Brandreth hastily. 4 Still,
please refrain from enlightening Clova for the
present.'
4 Vera weel, I agree for a while,' replied Tib
reluctantly. 4 Gin it's yer will it maun be.
An' ye've promised that she's to bide wi' us.'
4 Yes,' returned Brandreth. 4 Tib, my heart's
delight, I can scarcely believe in my happi-
ness, it is so great. If you could know how
212
TIB.
I have dreaded lest that villain, the orra man,
should snatch you away from me/
4 Maybe 'twas as weel no' to be ower sure o'
me,' said Tib. 4 But the orra man's no' a
villain ; he's real decent an' honest.'
41 believe he would marry you if he could.
4 It's no' his faut that he hasna,' she answered.
4 Dinna let us fa' oot anent the orra man. I
lo'e ye, but I jist had a kindly feeling an'
respect for Yule.'
4 If I am not contented after that heavenly
assurance, there must be something wrong
with me,' said Brandreth, in accents of intense
tenderness. 4 My darling and my own Tib !'
4 Take my arm,' he continued after a pause;
4 the night is dark, and perhaps you might
stumble up against a tree and hurt yourself.
That would be terrible.'
She smiled at the idea of being assisted by
Brandreth. Indeed, she experienced a new
and curious sensation in accepting help from
him. Hitherto she had been accustomed to
stand aloof, giving aid to others, receiving
none herself. The order of things was being
reversed. She recollected how Brandreth had
clung to her as they both stood on the
TIB.
213
unsteady plank across the Broon Ford, and
now she was leaning on him as though she
had never walked alone in the dark before.
She found dependence on Brandreth very
sweet. It was such a novelty to be taken
care of and guarded as though she were some-
thing tender and precious, that she could have
laughed aloud, only she feared to vex him by
her mirth. Certainly the fog was dense, the
air thick, and heavy to breathe. Brandreth
and Tib sometimes felt as though they must
be choked by the soft curtain of mist wrapping
them round on every side.
e Here is the cottage,' remarked Tib. ' I
wunner whether the fire is oot ? No; I see a
bit spunk.'
' When I was here on Hallowe'en I stood
outside, as you remember, and did not venture
to put my foot within your door. Will you
invite me to enter now ?'
4 Surely, surely,' she answered.
' I want to measure your finger for a ring.
I shall choose a very beautiful ring—the finest
in Fernlea.'
c Ae ring is eneuch. Wait till I licht the
lamp, an' then ye'll see better. But I dinna
214
TIB.
care meikle for rings. I aye thocht a wedding
ring the badge o' slavery. Men should hae
them as weel as women to show they are
married/
4 My true love must wear a ring to remind
her of her promise.'
' I daursay I could mind it withoot a ring.
I dinna like presents. I'm no' wanting to be
beholden to onybody.'
'Am I not different — your lover — your
future husband ?'
' I think I could tak' it better frae a
strang-er.'
O
' The orra man, for instance!' ejaculated
Brandreth. ' He has been here this evening.
Listen to this letter lying on the table:
" Dear Clova,—Will you kindly fashion
the enclosed purple satin into a gown to fit
your sister Tib ? I will pay you when it is
finished. It is to be Tib's wedding gown.
" The Orra Man op Eskmains.
Your wedding gown indeed, Tib !'
' I dinna think he meant it for rudeness,'
said Tib. ' He aye spoke o' gieing me a
purple saytin goon, an' it's beautiful saytin,
TIB.
215
an' maun hae cost him a heap o' money—far
mair than he could afford. He was in Fernlea
the day, an' maun hae bocht the goon while
doing the maister's messages.'
%
4 You shall wear the orra man's satin gown
the day you marry me. Where could he have
got enough money to buy such a costly gown ?
But he shall be paid out for his presumption !'
4 No, he'll get the goon to keep till's wed-
ding. The lass he marries shall be dressed in
that same purple saytin. But I'll no' object
ony mair to yer ring, though I never liked
the thocht o' rings, especially golden rings.
Does that satisfy you ?'
41 suppose it must for the present, but I
shall never be really satisfied until you are
my wife and the orra man has left Eskmains.
Kiss me, Tib !'
4 No, no,' said she, turning away.
4 Ah, then, you don't love me!' he ex-
claimed.
41 do, Gordon, I do !' she cried. 4 An' wi'
this kiss I gie mysel' to ye.'
She threw her arms round his neck and
kissed him, after which she and Brandreth
went out of the cottage together.
CHAPTER XVII.
4
HE farm labourers in the bothy had
gone to bed, and had been sleeping
soundly for several hours, when
Oman Little was suddenly awakened by a
lighted lantern being flashed in his face.
4
' Lord preserve us! Is the steading on
fire ?' he gasped.
4 No ; Peter is taken worse,' said Mr. Car-
roch. ' Get up and saddle a horse, and ride
to Fernlea as fast as you can gallop for the
doctor.'
' The nicht's that dark that I daurna pass
the Double Dykes, sir,' said Little, rubbing
his head in a shamefaced manner. ' Folks
say the place is haunted, an' a ghaist springs
oot upon ye at this 'oor !'
216
TIB.
217
4Ghost! Fiddlesticks! Your grandmother!'
said Mr. Carroch impatiently.
41 wadna mind meeting my granny, although
that wad be some eerie too ; but we a' ken that
the Double Dykes is uncanny. Look what a
number of accidents has happened there, and
aye at the same turning o' the road. It's that
howf, that kirkyard i' the field, whaur Donald
Bain's auntie fell ower, ae dark misty nicht,
ganging to visit her gudefaither, and broke
her neck, puir body! But gin I gang I
maun hae somebody wi' me, for I couldna
ride alane.'
4 Somebody maun gang,' interrupted Mr.
Carroch. 4 Ericht, look alive and dress your-
self. Peter has unfastened the bandage on
his leg, and we can't put it back properly.
He says we hurt him, and will not let us touch
him. It's dreadful to see him in such pain,
and be unable to relieve him.'
4 I'll go, of course,' said Yule, rising from
the bed and struggling into his clothes as he
spoke; 4 but with my going and the doctor's
coming there must be a delay of five hours at
the shortest computation. I can ride quickly
enough ; it's down-hill the whole way to Fern-
2l8
TIB.
lea, but the doctor would naturally take his
time in this darkness/
4 Ay, but there's no alternative.'
4 I think there is,' continued the orra man.
4 If it is merely what you say, I might put
things right until the morning, when the
doctor could be fetched.'
4 He can do't fine, sir,' said Little. 4 He
set the blacksmith's second eldest son's leg
just beautiful; and when Jean Cockburn dis-
located her shoulder, he and Tib Shiel put
it richt.'
4 Well, you can try. Peter can hardly be
waur,' replied Mr. Carroch, with a heavy
sigh.
4 I'll do the best I can,' answered Yule.
4 You once did me , a kindness, and I should
like to show I am not ungrateful.'
'You've done that already, I think,' said
Mr. Carroch.
The orra man was not long in being ready
to accompany Mr. Carroch to the house.
4 By the bye, I must thank you for the
money you gave me to-day, which came in
very handy, as I wanted to buy a few things
in Fernlea,' he observed.
TIB.
219
41 gave you no money. I don't know what
you mean,' said Mr. Carroch, stopping short
in the mist outside the bothy. 'You were
*
offered ten pounds for rescuing that boy Peter,
but you wouldn't take it, whether because you
thought it wasn't enough, or what, I cannot
say. You seem fond of refusing money.'
' I found twenty pounds in my coat pocket
as I was going to Fernlea, and I thought it
was from you, and that you had added to the
amount.'
' That was a grand find! It's well with
you, Yule. Have you spent it all already 1'
'Not quite—the greater part, though,' re-
plied Yule honestly. ' It's uncommonly queer
about the money. Who could have put it
there ? Do you think it could have been the
mistress ?'
' She never had so much money in her life.
The mistress accounts to me for every penny
she receives from her poultry and dairy. I
know exactly how much is in her purse, and
she has nothing laid past,' cried Mr. Carroch.
' Where would she get twenty pounds ? Your
friend must be a bien body.'
' Perhaps not so rich as you suppose. The
220
TIB.
rich are not always so willing to part with
their money.'
£ Well, I can't tell you, Yule. It's by-
ordinar' strange. But it's a pity you were in
such a hurry to spend the money; you should
have waited until you had found out where it
came from.'
Yule felt exceedingly uncomfortable. An
inexplicable misgiving that some misfortune
connected with the twenty pounds was about
to happen was borne in upon him. He had
been convinced that the notes had been put
in his pocket by Mr. Carroch, and now it
seemed that his master knew nothing what-
ever of the matter. The orra man resolved to
examine the remaining notes to see what bank
they were upon, and also whether they were
genuine. Perhaps it was a plant of some ill-
disposed person to get rid of bogus notes.
But the farm labourers were highly respect-
able, worthy individuals, totally incapable of
imagining such a stratagem. He could not
recollect, either, that he had seen any stranger
hovering about the neighbourhood of the bothy.
Whoever had played him what now appeared
to be a most disagreeable trick, must have
TIB. 221
been acquainted with where he kept his coat,
for it was in his Sunday coat that he had
found the money.
The vague feeling of something wrong was
partially dispelled on being shown into Peter's
room, Yule's interest being at once absorbed
by the sufferings of the little lad. Peter had
contrived to unfasten the bandage and splints
from his leg, thus undoing all the doctor's
work. The broken bone had cut through the
skin, making a terrible gash, which had begun
to bleed again with the reopening of the
wound.
The boy was tossing restlessly on his pillow,
his eyes bright as diamonds, his cheeks flushed,
and he was talking rapidly and incoherently.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Carroch hung over him, wild
with anxiety, and distracted to get the leg
bound up again; but every effort she made was
frustrated by the child's vehemently pushing
her away.
4 Have you sent for the doctor ?' she asked.
c No; the orra man has offered to try what
he can do, it would be so long until we could
get the doctor from Fernlea.'
4 The orra man 1' said Mrs. Carroch.
222 TIB.
'Yes, I know something about doctoring/
said Yule. ' Have no fear of my blundering;
I have set broken legs and dressed wounds
before. But how did Peter contrive to get
the bandage off % '
' We left him alone while Mr. Carroch was
reading prayers, not thinking anything could
happen in that short time. You see he is
quite delirious, and recognises nobody. We
suppose he must have felt stiff and tired, and
that is why he undid the bandage/
Mr. Carroch soon saw that his confidence in
Yule's medical capabilities was not misplaced.
With gentle, but firm and skilful fingers, Yule
pressed the broken bones together, fastening
the bandage and splints securely, so that it
was impossible Peter could untie them again.
All the night Peter talked incessantly. From
time to time Yule tried to administer some
simple cooling drink, but as often as not his
patient knocked his hand away with sudden
and determined strength. In imagination he
was continually trying to do something, and
was perpetually baffled in his attempts, as we
are so often in our dreams. Most of us know
what it is to be tormented by some vision in
TIB.
223
our sleep which comes very near, and yet just
eludes our grasp.
Towards morning the colour faded from his
cheeks; his eyes grew dull, and apparently
sightless; he stared straight before him, and
became quite silent. Mrs. Carroch touched his
face ; it was chill and icy as the King of Terrors
himself. Suddenly he began to shudder con-
vulsively, and his teeth chattered violently.
4 There is a change ! ' cried the orra man,—
4 a change for the worse. We must keep him
warm. Get a couple of hot-water bottles and
a kettle/
4May I not go too ?' asked George.
4 To be sure. Where is the brandy, Mr.
Carroch ?'
4 Will he die ?' said Mrs. Carroch in a low
voice.
41 think not—I trust not; but he will have
a fight for it. He is critically ill, of that there
can be no doubt/
The orra man's instructions were mechanic-
ally obeyed, and were followed carefully. For
the next few hours he and Mrs. Carroch
worked in silence, whilst George stood looking
on, too awestruck even to cry.
224
TIB,
' He'll do,' said Yule at length.
4 Do you m ean it ?' asked Mr. Carroch.
' See for yourself,' replied the orra man.
Peter was lying in a much more easy posi-
tion than before. His eyes were closed, he was
breathing naturally, and there was a gentle
warmth in his hand. Mr. Carroch turned
away. The orra man knew by the convulsive
heaving of his master's shoulders that he was
deeply moved.
' He must not be disturbed; let him sleep
as long as he will,' remarked Yule. ' He must
keep quiet. Never mind his tiring of lying
straight out; the proper knitting together of
the broken bones depends upon being perfectly
still for some time. It would be a pity were
he to be lame for want of a little patience.'
'Was he in great danger?' asked Mrs.
Carroch.
'Well, those violent shivering fits are apt
to precede mortification beginning in the case
of a bad wound,' said Yule. ' I will ride to
Fern lea for the doctor now, and you must
explain you did not intend offending against
medical etiquette, but it was a desperate
emergency, and I happened to be on the spot.'
TIB. 225
' No, no. Yon must be worn-out with having
so little sleep/ said she kindly.
4 Oh, I had slept some time before the
master awakened me. Why, it is morning !'
4 You are a doctor spoiled,' said Mrs. Car-
roch, smiling.
But the orra man became very grave at
this remark, and did not make any reply.
The household was all awake and astir when
Mr. Carroch and Yule went down-stairs. Clova
Shiel, neat and trim in a lilac print gown, her
fair hair beautifully plaited and shining like
gold, was in the stone-flagged dairy, bending
over a great pan of milk just brought in from
the byre. She asked how Peter was, and her
face lighted up with pleasure as the orra man
briefly replied,' Better.' Hearing a tap at the
front door, she ran to answer it, and was
confronted by Gordon Brandreth. He started
back on seeing her, being by no means de-
lighted to encounter his former sweetheart.
His keen eyes, always quick to note details
about a woman, observed that Clova was
dainty and pretty as ever.
In spite of his absorption in Tib, he could
not help feeling annoyed that Clova had been
p
226
TIB.
able to cast him out of her heart so soon.
Pale and thin she was, no doubt, but in some
respects she was more bewitching than ever.
Brandreth was unreasonably annoyed.
41 suppose you came to ask after Peter,' she
said, with perfect self-possession. 'You will
be glad to hear he is better.'
' Peter is very ill still,' said Mr. Carroch,
' but we think he'll pull through. He's had a
narrow escape, though; but the orra man's a
capital doctor, and has sat up with him all
night.'
' The orra man ! Have you allowed your
house to be contaminated by a convicted thief?'
cried Brandreth excitedly. ' Let him deny it
if he can! And he ventures, too, to give
presents to respectable girls !'
He flung the parcel containing the purple
satin Yule had bought for Tib's wedding dress
full in the orra man's face. Yule's blood
was up at the unprovoked insult. He hit
out at the schoolmaster, and directly after-
wards Brandreth measured his length on the
ground.
' Come, get up !' said Yule ; ' you are not
much hurt. I'm game for another round if
TIB. 227
yon are, but I like to bit fair. You shouldn't
call a fellow such abominable names.'
41 defy you to deny the fitness of the
epithet which was given you by a near relation
of yours, on a certain shady action of yours
about a cheque being discovered. I am not
speaking without book. I am prepared to
prove every word I have said.'
4 It is false,' said Yule, 4 and yet I cannot
clear myself, Mr. Carroch. You are my
•
master, and it is to you I speak. Of course,
if after what has been said you wish to dismiss
me, I have no redress.'
Mr. Carroch hesitated. It was a bitter
moment for the orra man, and, to add to his
misery, the woman he loved was amidst the
crowd of men and women collected together
to hear what had happened.
Mr. Carroch was thinking of those mysterious
bank notes of which Yule had spoken to him.
Perhaps he had purposely alluded to them in
order to divert suspicion, should any arise. He
did not deny there was some very unpleasant
incident which had wrecked his life. Still, he
had conducted himself well enough at Esk-
mains, and in some respects had rendered
228
TIB
invaluable service. A man might make a slip
and repent. It was hard to be ruined without
redemption on account of one false step.
' I have never asked since the day you came
here what made you turn farm labourer, Yule/
said Mr. Carroch,4 for, as you told me then, it
was your own affair, not mine. I have often
thought that if you had done wrong you
had certainly been well punished for it. But
were you the blackest scoundrel that ever
stepped, you should have liberty to live at
Eskmains as my orra man for what you did
for Peter last nmht. Mr. Brandreth is well-
O
meaning, no doubt, in saying what he has
heard, but we will let that flee stick to the
wa\ Now, lads, no more anent this; awa' to
your work.'
' I shall be glad to stay out my time, sir/
said Yule.
But even as he spoke, he felt that Eskmains
could never again be the same place to him.
And Clova Shiel, as she measured out the
milk at the dairy window to the customers,
wondered why Brandreth should be so angry
with the orra man for giving Tib a present.
Tib could be nothing to Gordon Brandreth.
TIB.
229
Meanwhile, the orra man, after a few
minutes' reflection, took the purple satin and
pitched it carelessly into the rafters in the
bothy. Tib had evidently rejected his present
as she had done the scarlet geranium flower.
CHAPTER XYII
IB SHIEL was standing by the old
blackthorn bush at the side of
the moss-grown, tumble-down wall
dividing the big field stretching below Esk-
mains from the Long Brae. Her hands were
crossed idly together, and the basket of
potatoes she would presently begin planting
in the carefully-ploughed furrows of bright red
earth, was placed on the top of a clump of
ferns at her feet. Behind the grey lichen-
covered wall was a broad belt of woodland.
Here and there a faint tinge of green was
beginning to appear upon the delicate tracery
of the silver - barked twigs. Beyond the
graceful bare branches was a peep of purple
hills, deepening into dull indigo or brighten-
ing into tawny yellow, as a cloud momentarily
TIB,
231
shadowed the heathery peaks or was driven
away by a light puff of wind.
All along the red sandy scaur lining the
little rough cart track leading up the steep
brae, the whins were out in blossom like a
great splash of flame.
Presently Tib turned and looked towards
the well-trodden path winding through the
plantation. At the far end of the aisle of
grey-stemmed trunks there appeared a small
black speck, which, coming nearer and nearer,
gradually resolved itself into the distinctly
defined figure of a man. In a minute he was
close enough for Tib to recognise him. He
took off his hat to her with much politeness,
and climbed the rude Galloway dyke, sending
several loose stones tumbling over after him.
' I hope you haven't had to wait long, Tib ?'
he said.
' I was just on the point o' ganging awa','
replied Tib, with a pretended pout. ' I was
terrified the ither oot-workers wad be back i'
the field afore I had gotten speech o' ye.'
' I've had first-rate news,' proceeded Brand-
reth. c Are not you anxious to hear it ?'
Tib had bent her eyes downwards upon the
232 TIB.
potatoes in the basket. She felt self-conscious
and almost ashamed of her out-worker's garb,
with its details of earth-stained hands, and
*
thick boots, with big tackets, like those worn
by the men. Never before had she thought
anything about the coarseness of the material
of her linsey petticoat and the ultra sim-
plicity of her cotton bodice. The schoolmaster,
dressed in fine broadcloth, his hair cut close
to his head in the fashionable style, an elegant
gold watch chain with seals hanging at his
waistcoat, seemed a being of immeasurable
grandeur to simple-minded Tib Shiel. She
was almost uncomfortable in his presence, and
vaguely wished she could have procured the
long-skirted dark stuff gown she donned on
Sundays. She was unable to look her lover
in the face.
' Ay, I am onxious—I mean, anxious. Oh,
English is a hard tongue. What is your news,
lad?'
' I've got a splendid situation as teacher in
an academy in the town of Castlemarsh,' he
said, ' worth three hundred a year.'
' Oh, mercy !' cried Tib, glancing up from
her contemplation of the potatoes. 4 Three
TIB. 233
hundred pounds a year! What will we do
wi't a' ?'
4 It will easily be spent,' said Brandreth.
4 You shall have a servant, and be no more
tired with hard work.'
4 Losh, I'm hardly ever wearied,' replied Tib,
laughing joyously. 4 What wad the likes o'
me do wi' a servant? What wad I mak' o'
mysel' gin I didna work? I'm sure I could
never sit up like a lady, daeing naething.'
Gordon Brandreth smiled.
4 You will soon learn to act the part of
mistress of your own house. Besides, you will
then have time to perfect yourself in your
studies under my superintendence. You will
turn out a capital scholar yet, Tib. We shall
be married immediately.'
4 Immediately !' echoed Tib. 4 Oh, dinna
be in ower great a hurry, lest ye should
rue, an' think ye could hae dune better for
yersel'!'
4 As though I could ever think that!' said
he reproachfully.
4 An' whaur is Castlemarsh ? Is't far awa' ?
suppose it's aboot England parts, or there-
aboots ?'
234
TIB.
4 It's a town something like Fernlea, in one
of the Midland Counties in England.'
41 hardly ken how I can gang sae far awa'
frae Eskmains, but gin ye are wanting it, an'
it maun be, I doot I'll hae to do't. I've lived
in the bit cottage a' my days. But, Gordon,'
—and she clapped her hands gleefully,—4 noo
I can get Clova telt, an' she's to bide wi's.'
The young man's brows darkened, and there
was a curious light in his eyes. His lips
tightened under his moustache in an unpleasant
manner. Evidently he did not like Tib to
mention her sister's name.
41 don't know about that,' he said shortly.
4 Oh, but ye promised it; ye canna back
frae yer word. My bonnie Clova! I couldna
bear to be i' the midst o' grandeur an' her
toilin' awa' for her breid. Whiles I wunner ye
didna fancy her instead o' me. She's mair
like yersel' than me, an' can play the pianner,
an' wad hae been quicker at speaking English
than me.'
4 I don't wonder,' replied Gordon, smiling.
4 Ay, but Clova's a bonnie bird—sae genteel,'
protested Tib.
4 Come now, Tib, speak more of yourself and
235
less of—of Clova.' Gordon hesitated some-
what before pronouncing Clova Shiel's name,
but Tib did not observe anything peculiar
about her lovers manner. ' I don't want to
share you with anybody; I don't want anybody
to live with us. I want my wife entirely to
myself. I believe, Tib, that you love'—again
that slight awkwardness about speaking the
name of the absent girl—'your sister better
than you do me. I believe you would be cut
into little bits for her, if she so much as
asked you.'
' I think I almost could, if it would do her
any good,' replied Tib reflectively. ' No' that
it would be an agreeable operation, Gordon.'
' But you wouldn't do it for me ?'
'You, Gordon?' said Tib, with a roguish
look in her lovely grey eyes. 'Ye wadna
expect me to undergo sic a thing twice ?'
' Oh, you base evader of my question ! Tib,
you don't—you can't—deny that your sister
is first in your affections, while I only hold the
second place ?'
' How can I say which I lo'e best ?'
answered Tib, with a pathetic inflection in the
tones of her low contralto voice. ' I hae never
TIB.
236
TIB.
divided my love for each 0' ye, and weighed
first ane and then the ither i' the balance to
see which was heaviest. My heart hauds ye
baith, Gordon, baith ye an' Clova. God kens
gin I lo'e Clova better than I do ye, or gin ye
are dearest to me, but I am sure I dinna.'
4 Well, Tib, I suppose I must be pleased to
rank equal with Clova ?'
' Oh, dinna let us spile oor joy wi' argufying,
when there's sae meikle to be thankfu' for.'
4 Then it is settled that we are to be married
as soon as possible ?'
4 111 need to gie the maister notice ; it'll no'
be fair to keep him i' the dark till the last.
Though I say it mysel', I'm no' a bad worker.
He'll miss me, I think. I wadna like to put
him aboot, for he's been a kind maister.
Getting oot-workers atween terms is no' sae
easy i' the country.'
4 Love breaks all contracts, Tib.'
4 To use the maister ill wad be a bad begin-
ning. Oh, Gordon, ye'll no' be vexed at me
speaking Scotch, will ye ?'
4 No; besides, you will not be long in
learning English when you hear nothing else
4
spoken.'
TIB. 237
4 But Clova, my Clova!—she's upon my
mind. She's expecting to live wi's.'
4 Have you told her ?'
The tone of Brandreth's voice was so stern
and peremptory that Tib quite started,
moving some paces back into the recesses of
the blackthorn boughs. Some small sharp
spikes catching hold of the sun bonnet, it was
drawn away, leaving her face exposed to view.
Although Gordon considerably preferred Tib
in a more conventional dress than the cotton
j acket and abbreviated skirt of the out-worker,
yet he could not repress an exclamation at the
beauty of the girl, as she stood under the white
blossom-laden branches of the blackthorn bush,
her eyes flashing, her red lips parted, a bright
flush staining the satin smoothness of her
usually pale cheeks.
4 No, I hevna,' she said indignantly. 4 Al-
though I never thocht it wad happen, I had
promised lang syne that gin I were first
married she wad bide wi's.'
41 give you leave to tell her as soon as you
like,' said Gordon ; 4 and you shall ask whether
she will care to live with us.'
4 Oh, may I, Gordon? may I ? Are ye in
23B
TIB.
earnest ? She's been on a visit in Fernlea, but
she's coming hame the nicht, an' I'll tell her
then.'
41 think I could agree to many more un-
pleasant requests to see you look so happy.'
4 Happy ! I never knew what it was afore
to be happy, Mr. Gordon; I'm clean oot o' my
mind; ye maun put up wi' my saying some
unco silly things. I am ower happy, I doot;
I'm getting a' my wishes—Clova to bide
wi' us, an' to be married wi' you, my dearie!
What mair can the warld gie me ?'
4 Am I really so much to you ?'
4 Oh, Gordon, how can ye speir ?'
Then followed an action on Gordon
Brandreth's part which called forth some
remonstrances from Tib.
4 No' i' the braid daylicht, Gordon!' she
cried. 4 Wha's to ken wha may be passing
along the road ?'
4 Do you think it sweeter in darkness ?'
asked Gordon, laughing. 41 don't care though
the whole parish of Valros saw us. Before we
are much older it will be known that we are
to be married.'
4 Ay, but keep me, I wadna hae minded the
TIB.
239
haill parish o' Valros sae meikle as the hinds
at the farm town. Ye dinna hae to work
amang them like me/
4 Well, say that I brought you a present.
So I have,' remarked Tib's lover. 4 Here, is
that according to your taste ?'
He took a small packet from his waistcoat
pocket, and presently disclosed to Tib's de-
lighted and astonished gaze a ring, with a
large forget-me-not made of turquoises. In the
centre was a single large diamond, and each
petal was tipped with a small glittering speci-
men of the same precious stone. But although
Tib's pleasure was manifest, Brandreth was
much discomposed by the sight of the ring.
In fact, it was the identical ring he had given
Clova Shiel, and which she had returned to him
in the winter, when he had resolved that all
should be ended between them.
' By Jove ! it's the wrong ring !' he ex-
claimed. 41 had chosen a ruby for you,
instead of this stupid blue affair.'
' Oh, I couldna hae likit the t'ither ane
better,' said Tib.
4 Then you are contented with it ?' he asked.
4 Oh, it's just beyond anything that ever I
240
TIB,
saw or imagined !' exclaimed Tib. ' The flower
is that bonnie, ane wad suppose that was a
dewdrap shining i' the middle, an' there were
wee dewdraps round the edges.'
Gordon was charmed that the girl was so
quick to perceive the intention of the design.
Nevertheless, the careless blunder of the
jeweller was unfortunate. In Tib's admiration
of the ring it was impossible to be totally
oblivious of Clova's equal surprise and delight
when the self-same ring had been bestowed
upon her. Memory is occasionally an incon-
venient appendage. Fain would Gordon have
forgotten that Clova existed, but even had not
Tib been continually talking about her, the
unlucky appearance of the blue ring must
have recalled her to his thoughts.
' Put on the ring,' he said.
41 canna dae that the noo ; my fingers are
a' smoored wi' the earth. The ring wadna do
for me to wear while I was planting potatoes.'
The young man recognised the truth of her
statement. Still, she was not slow to under-
stand that Brandreth was wounded.
'Dinna be annoyed at me,—though ye
needna, for it's common sense that I'm speak-
TIB.
241
ing,—I'm no' ashamed 0' being nae mair than
an oot-worker, an' ye canna set potatoes an'
no' soil yer hands.'
4 Why should you be ashamed of honest
work ?' he said presently, recovering himself.
4 Your favourite Ruskin describes a princess
who was not above washing clothes as a type
of a true lady, and why should not an out-
worker be a princess in her way, and lead a
beautiful life too ?'
Tib smiled.
4 I'll put on the grand ring the nicht when
I'm tidied up. Until then I'll wear the ring
this gait, unless ye'll tak't awa' wi' ye, an' I
can get it again.'
4 No. Keep the ring, Tib; to return it
would cross our luck.'
4 Oh, that's a' nonsense! I dinna believe
in superstitions. Gin I did, I wad think
something maun gang wrang, I'm that happy
since it's settled aboot Clova.'
4 Never mind your sister,' said Gordon im-
patiently. 4 How will you wear the ring, if
not on your finger ?'
Tib took off her sun-bonnet and unfastened a
long shining braid of hair. Then she divided
Q
TIB.
the tress into three, and slipped the ring upon
one bright strand. Plaiting the lock with deft-
ness, she soon wound it round her head again.
' There, it's as safe as can be. Disna it
look bonnie ?'
' It could not possibly be fairer,' said
Gordon.
' Tuts! I didna mean that,' laughed Tib.
Tying the strings of her sun-bonnet under her
chin and drawing herself to her full height,
she stepped back from Brandreth. ' Preserve
me ! there's the folk frae the farm, an' the orra
man wi' the cairt.'
' If they should chaff you about my being
here, you can announce our engagement, and
quietly remark that I was asking you to fix
the wedding - day. I'll have patience no
longer than a month. Confound it! I shan't
be able to see you again to-night, as I
have a special class for my pupil teachers.
To-morrow, dearest, at the cottage; I shall
want to see how the ring fits. Take care
of yourself until then. God be with you !'
Gordon Brandreth jumped over the wall into
the road, and soon vanished out of sight amidst
the grey trunks of the trees in the plantation.
CHAPTER XIX.
HE small army of out-workers came
trooping into the field, the orra
man following behind with a cart
filled with sacks of potatoes. Few of the
women could be called pretty, although most
of them had the comeliness born of good
health and fresh air. The older female workers
s
stooped considerably; many of them were
shrivelled - up looking, and wrinkled ; their
complexions, from perpetual exposure to wind
and weather, had been turned into a dull,
neutral tint. Still, taken as a whole, the
group of men and women—the former adorned
with gay vests and bright cravats, the latter
dressed in brown winsey jackets, long linen
aprons, pale-blue sun-bonnets, and petticoats
of a grey or russet hue—presented an animated
244
TIB.
picture, illumined by the rays of the brilliant
spring sunshine.
As Tib's tall, stately figure came up the
field there were many knowing looks exchanged
amongst the out-workers. Brandreth had been
quite visible to the sharp eyes of the hinds
as he stood with Tib beside the blackthorn
bush. She walked calmly up to the little
company of men and women, carrying her
basket under her arm.
'We're getting grand weather for the
potatoes, although it's gey an' late in the
season for planting them.'
4 Potatoes ! When did ye grow ower fine
to say tatties ?' exclaimed one of the out-
workers.
4Grand weather for the tatties? Grand
weather for courting, isna it, Tib ?' said Oman
Little. Tib's eyes were dancing with mirth.
She bit her lip to refrain from indulging in a
laugh of amusement.
4 Tib had better tak' heed what she is doing,'
said the out-worker who had alluded to Tib's
change of pronunciation of the word potatoes.
e It's disappointed ambition that's wrang wi'
her, because she couldna get the orra man.'
TIB.
245
' That's a lie,' said Ericht Yule. ' Tib Shiel
might have been my wife this many a day
had she chosen, and she can do it to-morrow
if she's willing.'
A great burst of laughter greeted Yule's
speech. Yet some of the out-workers were
touched to the heart by the orra man's out-
spoken defence of the girl he loved. During
the most pathetic portion of a play it may
be noticed that a rustic audience will laugh
at any display of emotion. The rough men
and women thought Yule a fine fellow for
speaking up in favour of Tib, but they would
not have dreamed of expressing praise of his
action. Possibly he was a fool for his pains.
Still, while hardly sympathising with his
motives, his chivalry caused him to be more
respected than he had been since the morning
when Gordon Brandreth had called him ' a
convicted thief.'
Tib's colour rose, and, stepping forward a
few paces, she looked so tenderly at the orra
man that he was momentarily deceived into
the belief that she would accept him.
' I canna marry ye, Ericht, because I'm
gaun to marry somebody else.'
246
TIB.
' The man yon were talking to when we
came into the field after dinner ?'
Tib merely nodded her head in affirmation.
Yule went very pale under the sunburn on
his cheeks, and said nothing. She was glad
when the lengthening shadows over the great
stretches of ploughed land, lying red and
parched under the hot sun and withering east
winds, showed that the time for stopping work
was not far distant.
' Is Tib Shiel here ?' asked Mr. Carroch.
' The mistress is wanting to see you, Tib,
when it's convenient. Mr. Brandreth was
up - bye calling this afternoon, and he was
telling us that you and he are to be married
shortly. The mistress was wondering • what
you would like for a wedding present. You've
ta'en us all by surprise. I'll need to look out
for another woman to fill your place, which
winna be that easy. Your father worked in
the fields here for fifty years under my father,
and there never was a word between them.
You've worked well too, and I've had no
fault to find. I told Mr. Brandreth he was
doing a good thing for himsel' in marrying
you.'
TIB.
247
Tib crimsoned with pleasure at her master's
kind words. She said she would go to the
farmhouse when she had ' redd hersel' up.'
' And, Yule, bring your fiddle this evening.
Peter is wearying to hear some music. He's
made a wonderful recovery; though he's not
strong yet, the broken leg is as straight as
the other. The doctor said you'd done that
well.'
Hitherto a doubt had been lingering in the
minds of the out-workers that Tib's assertion
about her engagement was merely a boast to
throw dust in their eyes about her meeting
with Brandreth. Their unbelief being fairly
removed, good wishes in abundance were
offered before Tib went along the little foot-
path in the wood leading to her cottage.
4 Fegs! she steps awa' like a queen,' said
Oman Little. 'As the maister says, it'll no'
be easy to get Tib's marrow. There's ony
number 0' able-bodied women-folk to be had,
but nane according to sample.'
When the bothy men had gone,—some to
the stables to polish up the horses' harness,
and others to the cottages of friends to enjoy
a chat or discuss sundry grievances,—Yule
248 TIB.
M , 1, 1 ———r*i — —-—^——
lifted down the parcel containing the purple
satin from the rafters, intending to take it
to Tib.
The cottage door was standing wide open.
Tib loved pure air, and seldom kept the door
shut. She was dressed in her Sunday gown
of plain black stuff, with neat linen collar and
cuffs. Her head was uncovered, and when
the orra man ventured to knock he noticed
that there was a small blue ornament, with
some shining stones — probably crystals—
fastened in one of her braids. She came
forward to Yule, looking radiantly happy.
' I thought I would just look in, Tib,' he
began stammeringly.
' Come ben, come ben, Ericht,' said she,
' an' tak' a seat. Ye've been by-ordinar' gude
to me, an' I want to thank you.'
' Thank me for asking you to marry me?
The obligation is the other way, I think.'
Tib laughed such a gay, light-hearted laugh,
and a most becoming tint of pink stole over
her cheeks.
f Sit ye doon, Ericht,' she remarked. ' Ye
ken what I'm meaning weel eneuch.'
In pushing a chair nearer him, the back of
TIB.
249
her head, with its sleek, shining plaits, and
the small blue ornament which had attracted
his attention before, were turned toward his
gaze.
4 What is that pretty thing amongst your
hair ?' he exclaimed.
4 Oh, it's the ring Gordon gie'd me the day,'
replied Tib. 41 plaited it into my hair until
I got time to try it on.'
In a moment Tib had released the ring
from the braid, and stood holding the glitter-
ing trinket in the palm of her hand.
4 Turquoises and diamonds !' remarked the
orra man. 4 Does it fit ?'
Half blushing, half smiling, Tib tried to
push the ring over the large but well-formed
fourth finger of her left hand, but, to her great
mortification and vexation, she found that her
lover's present was too small.
4 He hasn't taken your measure correctly,'
observed the orra man. 4 One of the tur-
quoises is wanting, too ! That's a very unlucky
omen, Tib.'
*
4 Hae I lost ane o' the blue stanes ?' cried
Tib, much disconcerted. 4 Oh dear! he will
think me that careless.'
250
TIB.
4 Surely he'll not venture to be angry with
you % If I thought that, I would fell him to
the ground.'
4 Tuts ! ye're ower ready wi' yer hands, at
ony rate,' said Tib petulantly.
4 What! do you blame me for defending
myself when that fellow had slandered my
character ?' cried the orra man. 4 But I know
why he did it. He was jealous, and afraid I
stood higher in your favour than he did.'
4 Maister Brandreth's no' to be ca'd ".that
fellow," like ony common man !' exclaimed Tib.
4 Indeed, I'm sair annoyed. Maister Brandreth
had gotten my word by that time, an' wasna
needing to stoop to sic tricks. But I ken
you're no' guilty, an' as honest as mysel'.
Maister Brandreth didna like speaking yon
day, but he thocht it his duty.'
4 Pooh ! His duty, indeed ! But there,
Tib, he is the man you love. For your sake
I hope he will always be your hero, and never
fail you. He must change the ring; only, I
have always heard it was unlucky.'
4 That's the third time that's been said to
me since the forenoon,' cried Tib, 4 an' I'm for
nae mair o't.'
TIB.
25r
' I don't think he's even paid you the
compliment of buying you a new ring,' said
the orra man, examining the ring attentively.
41 believe it's an old ring, and has been worn
*
by one of his numerous sweethearts. There
are several scratches upon the inside of the
golden band.'
4 Sweethearts ! He never had nane but me.'
' Oh, if he said that, it must be true.'
4 An' as for the ring no' being new, he
%
explained that the jeweller had made a mis-
take, an' sent a different ring frae that he
had ordered. He meant to hae gie'n a ruby,
an' no' thae blue stanes. A ruby is reid,
isna it ?'
' Ay, a great deal more valuable than tur-
quoises.'
Tib was considerably concerned that the
ring did not fit, despite her protestations of
disbelief in superstition. Strong - minded,
*
possessed of plenty of common sense, yet she
could not divest herself of the sensation that
it was an unfortunate incident, coupled with
the loss of the blue petal. So wrapped up
was she in looking at the vacant place in the
ring, whence the turquoise had dropped out,
252
TIB.
that she forgot that she had not readjusted
the loose lock of hair, but was still standing
with it hanging about her waist. As she bent
over the ring, making an ineffectual effort to
push it over her finger, the orra man took the
flowing tress in his hand, and pressed it
passionately to his lips. Tib flung the ring
on the table, and, snatching up a pair of
scissors, cut off the piece of hair the orra man
had so deeply offended her by kissing, and
tossed it into the little bright wood fire.
' Hoo daur ye do sic a thing ?' she cried,
angrily stamping her foot. ' Was it just for
that ye cam' here the nicht %'
' You needn't be so ill-pleased,' said the
orra man. ' I did it because I'm not made of
cold ice, as you seem to suppose, but warm
flesh and blood. You shouldn't have grudged
me that kiss, and had you given me that
bonnie bit of hair, I would have kept it until
the day I died.'
' If that's all ye hae gotten to say, ye can
gang yer ways.'
' Well, I didn't come to quarrel with you.
You recollect I always said you should wear
purple satin when you were married ? I shall
TIB.
253
never have a wife, so you had better make use
of the satin/
4 Ye're like the man wha said he wasna an
elegant dancer but he was awfu' constant,'
replied Tib, smiling. 4 I'll tak' care o' the
purple saytin for ye, an' when I hear ye're
gaein' to be wed I'll send ye the goon for yer
bride.'
4
4 Well, I hope you'll be happy. I wish you
all manner of happiness. Then we've made it
up again, and you'll overlook that kiss ?'
4 Surely, surely,' said she, extending her
hand frankly.
4 How's Clova?' continued the orra man.
4 Has she been told of your marriage ?'
4No; she's to hear the nicht when she
comes hame. She's to bide wi's at Castle-
marsh.'
4 Oh, is she ?'
41 am just wearying to hear what she says.
Maybe it is cruel to speak to ye this gait,
Ericht, but I am that happy I dinna ken what
to mak' o' mysel'.'
4 You can't be happier or more prosperous
than I would have you,' said Yule earnestly.
4 If ever there is anything I can do for you
254
TIB.
you've but to ask me and I'll do it. You'll
sometimes give a thought, when you're far
away, to the orra man at Eskmains, and the
old days when we worked together, summer
and winter, in the fields ?'
Tib stood at her cottage door for a few
minutes after the orra man had left her. The
cottage was a typical North country one, with
two short chimneys, one at each end, looking
like pricked-up ears. The walls were white-
washed, and on either side of the doorway was
a small window. The roof was of blue slate,
but so bleached and faded by the weather
that the original tint had changed to a faint
grey. Over this softened hue a small yellow
lichen had crept, leaving only a few vacant
spaces where the grey of the slates appeared,
a pleasant contrast to the brightness of the
lichen. There were two little flower-plots,
fenced off from the footpath, wherein southern-
wood and London pride and pansies grew.
Tib's home stood on an eminence in the centre
of a clearing in the wood. Through a gap
amongst the trees, Tib could see down into
the valley, extending east and west for miles
between the great mountains. The country
TIB.
255
was sparsely dotted with farmhouses and
cottages, with whitewashed walls, and roofed
with dark blue slates.
The setting sun was flaming upon those
windows facing its declining rays, causing
them to shine brilliantly, while occasionally
the flat surface of a pond, or a mill lade, or
the windings of the river catching a gleam of
light, twinkled into white radiance, like the
momentary glitter of a polished steel blade.
Some few birds were chirping to each other
in the thick underscrub before going to bed,
but otherwise the evening was intensely still.
The bitter east wind, which had blown
persistently like a sharp scourge over the dry
and thirsty land, had lulled.
As the sun sank down behind the great
mass of Black Cairn, the seams and lines of the
watercourses, worn by the snows and rains of
thousands of winters into the heart of the
living rock on the eastern hills, were bathed
in light, and visible in the clearness of the
quiet spring evening.
' What bonnie it is!' said Tib to herself.
4 Gin heaven is bonnier it maun be wunnerful.
Thae hills to the east wi' nae trees, an' the reid,
256
TIB.
reid fields near to the tap, mak' me think o'
the mountains o' Palestine. I doot we'll be
getting rain the morn, an' that'll be bad for
the tattie plantin' an' the lambing. Clova will
be here the noo. She canna be mony meenits
langer, an' then I'll get her telt about Gordon.
What pleased she will be !'
CHAPTER XX.
IB sat down beside the fire. The door
was still standing open, in expect-
ation of Clova's arrival. She was
coming by the carrier's cart from Fernlea,
with her stock of finery for the summer
bonnets and hats for the good folks up Noran
Water.
Tib took up the ring, turning it over
tenderly in her hand. Her face flushed as
she remembered Brandreth's parting kiss, the
pressure of his arm round her waist, his strong,
warm words. Was it not little short of a
miracle that Brandreth should have selected
her for his wife—she, an ordinary farm out-
worker—when he might have married a person
of much higher rank ? Then she wished that
Clova would come, that the astounding news
R
258
TIB.
might be imparted to her. She imagined she
could see her pretty face dimpling into smiles
as she heard the delightful intelligence.
As she sat meditating there was a light
step on the threshold, and a rustle as of
women's draperies. Tib jumped up joyfully
as she saw Clova.
4 I'm later than I expected, Tib, an' fair
famishing for a cup 0' tea. The boxes are
at Eskmains, an' I'll bring them doon the
morn.'
4 Oh, Clova, my doo! I'm gaun to be
married, an' I'm clean oot 0' mysel' wanting
to hear what ye thocht.'
4 Weel, that is gude news !' cried Clova.
4 An' ye're to bide wi's; ye're no' to be left
ahint,' continued Tib.
4 But what for need ye leave Eskmains,
when, of course, it's the orra man ? Has
he gotten a place, or another farm, after
Martinmas ?'
4 Ye're wrong, Clova ; it's no' the orra man.
I think an awfu' lot o' him, but he's no' my
jo. Guess again ! But, indeed, I dinna think
ye'll find out, for I was that astonished mysel'
I could hardly believe't.'
TIB.
259
4 Oh, Tib, whaur got ye that ring ?' cried
Clova.
4 Maister Brandreth gie'd it me the day, an'
he's the man I'm gaun to marry.'
e But it's my ring, Tib,' said Clova emphatic-
ally ; 4 at least it was until I returned it.'
4 Your ring !' echoed Tib, turning white.
4 How can that be ? What wad Maister
Brandreth be doing gieing you a ring too ?'
4 Ay, it's my ring,' exclaimed Clova, slipping
it on her finger, and holding it up to show
Tib how well it fitted. 4Mair, it was made
to order for me. I lost ane o' the blue stanes
oot o't afore he got it back. I wad recognise
the ring ony gait. There are twa scratches
i' the inside o' the circlet. They were dune
when I ance drappit the ring.'
4 Woman, are ye thinking what ye are
saying ?'
4 Ay div I. Gordon Brandreth gie'd me that
ring four days after he askit me to marry
him.'
41 mind he said the j eweller had made a
mistake,' replied Tib faintly. 4 He seemed
vexed-like anent it.'
4 Maister Brandreth ought to be mair careful
260
TIB.
aboot his sweethearts' rings,' remarked Clova
disdainfully. ' He should have lookit afore he
left hame to see whether he had gotten the
richt ane.'
' Ye tell me that Maister Brandreth wanted
ye for his wife, Clova ? Was he the lover that
played ye fause an' failed ye ?'
' Ay ; he cheenged his mind. An' it was ye
wha cam' atween us, an' took awa' his heart
frae me!—ye wha pretended to think sae meikle
o' me, an' to despise him! That's what has
been the upshot o' yer interest in books an'
his writings in the magazines, an' a' the time
you an' him was courting, an' me never
kenning.'
' I wanted to tell ye, but he wadna let me,
an' I promised I wadna until he said I micht.'
' Oh, that was the same gait he did wi' me.
Aften did I ask to be released frae my word,
an' we fell oot aboot that at last. Sae he
wishes me to bide wi' ye, does he? Bather
wad I beg my breid frae door to door than
tak' ae bite frae him ! Did the ring fit ye ?'
' No; I couldna get it on my finger.'
' An' this is Tib, that carried her heid sae
high, an' lauched at Gordon Brandreth, an'
TIB.
261
advised me to look after mysel', because he
made fules 0' the lassies, an' was that conceited
he could think o' naething but himsel'! I
thocht it was an acquaintance in Fernlea he
had ta'en up wi', but it was my ain sister
after a'.'
4 I'm no' married yet, Clova,' said Tib.
' No, but ye sune will be. Maister Brand-
reth will want the wedding afore lang.
Besides, why should ye wait? Is the day
fixed ?'
4 Maybe it never will be fixed. Oh, Clova,
that ony trouble should hae come to ye through
me !' exclaimed Tib, catching her breath in a
great gasp,—' me that wad hae laid doon my
life for ye, and thocht naething o't!'
4 It's easy speaking,' said Clova in cold,
harsh accents. 'Ye hae won, an' I hae lost.
Ye are gaun to be Mrs. Brandreth, while I'm
left alane i' the warld. Ye'll be far ower fine
to think o' me then.'
' Oh, Clova ! yer heart's sair to breaking, or
ye wad ken better than that.'
' Ay, ye're a lucky woman, Tib. What
Gordon told me is true,—a lassie shouldna
hae ower mony sweethearts; she's safer wi'
262 TIB.
_ _
nae mair than twa. Ye hae dnne weel for
yersel' wi' the orra man an' the schulemaister.'
4 CI ova !'
In that single word was a whole world of
anguish. For a moment Clova covered her
face with her hands, and leaned her head upon
the little table. Then she glanced up at Tib.
She was still standing beside her, and was
quite motionless, as though carved out of
stone. A look of incredulous horror was in
her sweet grey eyes, and her countenance was
very white and drawn.
4 Oh, I thocht I had gotten ower it/ said
Clova, 4 but it's a' come back upon me fresh
an' strong. I battled awa' mysel', an' was glad
the folks didna ken onything o't. Then I
thankit him for his prudence. I was spared
the humiliation o' being pitied when I under-
stood he was wearied o' me. Men dinna lo'e
sae warmly as women, I think.'
4 Things can be richted yet.'
4 No' whaur Cordon an' me's concerned. He
is yours noo, an' ye are welcome to him. I
wadna hae him though he entreated me on's
bended knees.'
Here the kettle boiling over caused a prosaic
TIB. 263
interruption. Clova sat down, and partook of
her evening meal.
4 Will ye no' hae some supper, Tib ?'
41 canna eat; it wad choke me,' the elder
sister replied.
She went away from the fire and stood at
the door, gazing into the darkness with blank,
tearless eyes.
'Ye needna tak' on that gait,' said Clova.
' There's nae use i' being miserable; it gars
ane grow auld afore ane's time, an' plants
crow's-feet and wrinkles ower sune at the
corners o' ane's een. Mony's the hour I grat
for Cordon Brandreth, but I'll greet nae mair.'
Tib did not reply. Shortly afterwards, Clova
went to bed. Her fair head, with its soft,
ruffled golden hair, had not been laid many
minutes upon the coarse linen pillowcase than
the violet eyes closed under the dark lashes,
and she fell sound asleep.
But Tib could not follow Clova's example.
For long she paced up and down the small
room, as though trying to walk away from the
pain which filled her soul. Clova's words had
cut like a knife into her heart. Unintention-
ally she had done her sister the cruellest wrong
264
TIB.
any woman can inflict upon another. She
had stolen her lover from her. That she had
been ignorant of Clova's attachment to Brand-
reth did not mitigate her offence in the least
in Tib's estimation. She thought she ought
to have divined the state of matters from
Clova's continual defence of Brandreth against
her own half-joking, half-serious remarks upon
his innate conceit. With the broad lmht of
O
knowledge in her mind, she comprehended that
Brandreth had singled out Clova in a remark-
able manner, and for a time had shown her as
many little kindnesses and attentions as he
had done herself. It seemed extraordinary
that the idea should not have occurred to her
that the schoolmaster might be admiring
Clova in good earnest. There would have
been nothing marvellous in his thinking of
marrying so attractive a girl as Clova. And
#
he had thought of doing so until her own
sister had rendered him unfaithful. Tib was
not aware of having tried to win his love.
She remembered how surprised she was that
he had selected her humble and most unworthy
self for the elevated position of his wife. She
recollected, too, Brandreth's unwillingness to
TIB
265
receive Clova into his home. Nay, more, he
had even been reluctant to mention her name.
Tib fell on her knees beside the bed where
Clova was slumbering. She prayed passion-
ately, earnestly, for strength to do what was
right.
Several hours passed before she rose from
her devotions, but when at last she staggered
somewhat unsteadily to her feet her resolution
was taken. During those moments of agonised
emotion, while silently wrestling between her
love and her duty, she had determined to
resign Gordon Brandreth for ever. Her way
was clear enough before her. Clova's happi-
ness was a thousand times more precious to her
than her own. Gordon would turn to Clova
once Tib was removed from his proximity.
Searching for pen and paper, she wrote a
few lines to Brandreth, bidding him an eternal
farewell, because she found he had first loved
Clova, and afterwards deserted her in favour
of herself.
Writing a letter was not generally an easy
task to Tib. On ordinary occasions her ideas
did not form quickly. But now that she had
come to a definite resolution she had no
266
TIB.
difficulty in expressing her meaning. Uncon-
sciously she wrote more carefully than she had
ever done before, and there were no traces
of agitation in the neatly - formed letters.
Then she sat down, her hands clasped tightly
together upon her lap, her eyes gazing into
the white ashes of the wood fire—dead and
cold, like the extinguished passion of Clova's
recreant lover.
Clova stirred in her sleep. Tib rose, and,
stooping down, kissed her sister. Clova was
looking charming, with a lovely rosy flush
4
upon the soft contour of her peachy cheek.
One hand was thrown carelessly above the
yellow silken locks on the pillow. The kiss
from Tib's chill lips awakened the sleeping
girl.
4What cauld ye are!' she said, looking up
with a smile into Tib's white face^ 4 Hae ye
no' been to yer bed yet ?'
41 couldna sleep,' replied Tib evasively.
4 That's a bonnie bit o' saytin' ye're haudin'
i' yer hand,' continued Clova. 4 Is't what the
orra man brocht ye ?'
4 Ay,' said Tib. 4 How sune can ye mak' a
dress ?'
TIB.
267
4Twa days, at ony rate, gin I wasna to
destroy the goon. This is real rich an' saffc/
remarked Clova, smoothing the satin appreci-
atively between her finger and thumb. 4 Is't
to be yer wedding goon %'
'I'll wear it the day I'm wed, and ye'll be
best maid, Clova.'
4 That will I!' exclaimed Clova, pulling
Tib's face close beside her on the pillow,
and, embracing her affectionately, she nearly
smothered her with kisses. 4 Oh, Tib, I've
spoken awfu' unkind to ye that hae been the
vera best sister that onybody could hae had.
I hae been unco ungratefu'—just a wretch to
ye! Ye couldna hae jaloused aboot Cordon
when I never let on to ye. As he likes ye the
best ye should gang thegither, for love's a
queer thing. It's different frae ony thing else.'
4 Losh, I maun hae been stone blind no' to
hae seen ye lo'ed Gordon. Oh dear! an' me
that promised my mither on her death-bed to
be gude to ye!'
4 An' sae ye hae, Tib ; sae ye hae. I'll ma.k'
yer wedding goon, an' ilka stitch shall be put
in wi' wishes for yer welfare.'
4 Dinna loss nae time,' said Tib anxiously.
268
TIB.
4 Cut it oot the moment ye're up i' the morning
on Monday.'
4 The purple saytin '11 become ye real weel.'
4Ye've my measure, and mak't as ye will.
I'm no' caring; whether it sets me or no'.'
O
4 Ou ay,' replied Clova sleepily. 4 We'll speak
o' the newest fashions when ye've come in for
breakfast. Yer wedding goon maun be up to
the mark.'
Tib waited until Clova once more fell asleep.
Then, taking the letter she had written to
Gordon Brandreth, and walking cautiously
across the floor in case of awakening her sister,
she reached the door, lifted the latch gently,
and stole out into the quiet night.
CHAPTER XXL
IB had no distinct idea how she was
going to convey the letter to
Gordon Brandreth. There was no
post-office nearer than Valros, and that was
several miles distant. Even had there been
such a place, she would have required a
postage stamp, and for this purpose the post-
master must have been aroused from his
slumbers—an unheard-of proceeding—before
the day had dawned. She might have availed
herself of the services of Jock Leslie, the
walking postman from Glen Noran, who called
at Eskmains every day on his way to Fernlea,
delivering letters on his return journey to
the different cottages and farmhouses; but
she could not bear waiting so long. She felt
it would be the refinement of cruelty were
269
270
TIB
she to meet Gordon Brandreth, and he accosted
her with words of tenderness and affection
such as he had used at their tryst by the
old blackthorn bush. When she next en-
countered her lover he must be as a stranger
to her.
Tib hurried on past the turn in the wood,
over the low Galloway dyke of loose stones;
the square pond at Eskmains gleaming in the
night; the cattle sheds, the quaint, pointed-
roofed threshing-mill, the farm buildings and
empty rick frames, showing ghost-like and
grey-black in the pale light. As Tib went
on, a sad, wailing wind from the moorlands
met her full in the face. Presently heavy
clouds spread over the sky, and rain began
falling in big drops, like those of a thunder
shower. The frost had given way, and it was
likely to be a wet morning.
Not far from the plantation was a large
field, filled with bleating sheep and lambs.
At one end was a small shepherd's shieling,
in which a bright light was burning. Voices
and merry laughter proceeded from the rude
edifice, mingled with snatches of a song sung
by a powerful bass voice.
TIB.
271
Tib had now determined she would take
her letter to Brandreth's house, and push the
envelope beneath the door, so that he should
find her message before going to school in
the morning. She made the best of her way
into the field, forgetful of the fact that an
active collie dog was watching amongst the
sheep, and would probably give warning of
her presence to the shepherd and his jovial
companions. There was no path; but, when
a child, Tib had often gone to school across
the field, having no fear either of cattle or
darkness, trotting along with her satchel of
books, a grave, self-contained little individual.
Even then she had been wrapped up in
Clova, e the bit bairn,' in reality not so much
younger than the protecting mother - sister,
whose deep love made her seem older than
her years.
As Tib drew near the sheep, the collie gave
tongue, barking angrily, until the girl, well
acquainted with the dog, spoke some kind
words, when it became silent.
But Tib's voice had been recognised by the
occupants of the shieling. The orra man was
sitting up with the shepherd, and there were
272
TIB.
Donald Bain and Oman Little as well. Yule
had not cared for being in the bothy after
his visit to Tib, and spending the evening
with the Carrochs at Eskmains.
' What is the greatest bliss
That the tongue o' man can name?
'Tis to woo a bonnie lassie
When the kye comes hame,
'Tween the gloamin' an' the mirk,
When the kye comes hame,'—
sang Donald Bain.
41 didna ken ye could sing like yon, Don-
aid,' said Ornan. ' They should hae gotten
ye to stand up at the Penny Reading last
Hallowe'en.'
6 Ay, I think I see mysel'!' returned
Donald, laughing. 'No, no; I'm no' an
opera singer like ye.
''Tis to woo a bonnie lassie
When the kye comes hame,'—
he sang again. ' I'm o' the same opinion as
the poet. But courting's far the best time.
Matrimony is a real soul - subduing thing.
Women are a' pretty nearly the same after a
while. Dinna girn yer heart oot anent Tib
TIB.
273
Shiel, Ericht. There's as gude fish i' the sea
as ever cam' oot o't. Oman Little, is the
maist love-sick lad ever I saw. Didna I catch
him kissing the door - handle o' the Shiels'
cottage, because he thocht Clova had just
shut it!'
' Ye shouldna tell tales !' exclaimed the big
ploughman. 'Ye're real mean an' sneaky,
Donald.'
4 Ericht an' yersel' are twa gowks,' he con-
tinued. ' I should hae been as happy wi'
anither woman, gin my wife had refused me;
mony's the time I hae said sae till her.'
4 Whisht!' said the orra man ; ' there's
somebody calling to Tweed.'
' Tib Shiel!' replied Donald Bain. ' But I
thocht ye wad hae kenned her voice, Ericht.
What can she be wanting, wandering aboot at
this 'oor o' the nicht ?'
6 I wunner what's brocht her here ?' ex-
claimed Oman. 4 She maun be i' some trouble,
I suspect.'
4 Trouble ! What trouble can Tib be in ?'
cried Yule.
The shepherd looked up from his task of
feeding a sick lamb with warm milk through
s
274 TIB.
the spout of a tin flask, and laughed at the
orra man's simplicity.
' I doot she's no' her lane. Maister Brand-
reth will be no' far awa',' he answered
scoffingly.
4 I don't believe Brandreth is there/ answered
the orra man.
He rose from the heap of straw on which
he had been lying, and shook himself all over
like a dog. Going to the door of the shieling,
he flung it wide open, letting a narrow strip
of light from the candle in the lantern fall
athwart the darkness and the pearly rain-
drops.
4 Tib, is it you ?' asked the orra man, ad-
vancing into the pouring rain, and laying his
hand gently on the girl's shoulder. 4 Why,
you're wet to the skin!'
4Is it raining ?' said Tib.
4 Baining ! Preserve me ! it's raining hail
water.'
41 didna ken.'
4 You'll catch your death of cold.'
4 Me!' exclaimed Tib, with a touch of her
old proud disdain. 41 never had onything
the matter wi' me a' my days, excepting the
TIB.
275
measles. I'm as strong as Oman Little, an'
that's saying a great deal.'
Meanwhile, Yule had fetched a sack from
within the shieling, and pinned it carefully
across Tib's chest.
4 It's perfectly new and clean,' said Yule
half apologetically. 4 You were always very
particular. You see I know your ways.
Perhaps it's not as fine a cloak as Mr.
Brandreth will give you before long, but it
will serve its turn, and keep out the cold
and wet/
The orra man was puzzled by Tib's appear-
ance in the field at an hour when it might
naturally have been supposed she would have
been sleeping soundly in her cottage; but,
with instinctive delicacy, he refrained from
putting any questions to the girl. Why she
should be roaming through the fields in the
wet and darkness, when she had done a long
day's work, he could not imagine. That
something dreadful had happened he could
not doubt, from the white face and sad eyes
shining through the falling rain against the
background of inky sky and dusky woodland.
'Ericht, will ye do me a favour?' she
276
TIB.
said. 'Will ye tak' this letter to Maister
Brandreth ?'
'What's your hurry, Tib? Couldn't you
wait until daybreak ?' said the orra man won-
deringly. ' He'll be coming to see you soon,
now you're going to be married.'
' I'm no' wanting to see him.'
' Have you quarrelled with him ?' exclaimed
Yule. ' Is it because the ring didn't fit ? I
knew that wasn't lucky.'
' The ring was Clova's,' said Tib.
' Clova's ring !' repeated Yule. ' Why,
how could that be ?'
'Ay, it's a' ower an' dune wi' atween us,
Ericht.'
' Poor Tib !'
Ericht's compassion and tenderness broke
down her self-control, and she gave vent to
a few choking sobs. As Tib allowed herself
this resource of woman's weakness, Yule felt
that he was growing proportionately stronger.
All the generosity of the young man's nature
came to the rescue. He discerned that Tib
was resigning her hopes of happiness because
she had discovered that Brandreth had once
been Clova's lover.
TIB. 277
He cleared his throat, a habit of his when
nervous, and, taking Tib's hand, he led her a
little farther away from the shieling, so that
the shepherd and his companions should not
listen to what he was going to say. He could
hear her heart beating quickly, impetuously,
as he stood by her, holding her hand in his,
the rain pouring down in torrents upon her
thick hair and his own uncovered locks.
4 So he has betrayed himself at last!' he
cried. 41 thought he would before long.'
4 Hid ye ken o' him an' Clova, and didna
say ?'
'Nobody guessed but Ornan Little and
myself, and, at any rate, we weren't positive.
I would rather have bitten my tongue out
than spoken of it even had I been certain.'
' He didna deserve sic mercy frae ye.'
41 didn't want to sink to his level,' said the
orra man contemptuously. 'Tib, you're free
again, are you not ?'
' Ay; this letter ends all ties between us.'
'Then will not you take back your re-
fusal?'
He spoke in a low undertone, but his voice
was filled with exultation. The darkness
278
TIB.
prevented Tib from seeing the triumph in
Yule's face, but nevertheless she was keenly
cognisant of the thrill the victory he had
gained imparted to his voice.
' I'll marry ye, Ericht, an' we'll hae the wed-
ding as sune as Clova has the goon ready.'
'My darling, I have won you in spite of
Brandreth; you'll love me a thousand times
more than ever you did him.'
He caught her in his arms with a passionate
clasp, and would fain have kissed her. But
she withdrew from his embrace.
' Dinna rejoice sae plainly, or maybe I'll no'
be able to gang through wi't,' she flashed out.
' I am his until he gets that letter, an' dinna
deceive yersel' aboot my affection, for I hae
nane for ye, no' a spark. My heart is cauld
an' deid, an' I feel that I canna care for ony-
thing again in this war Id. Ye micht marry a
lass that lo'ed ye dearly.'
' No other lass would be the same to me,' he
answered gravely. ' I am well aware of what
I am doing. In a few months from now you'll
be surprised that you could have given Gordon
Brandreth a thought. Your heart, your soul,
will be mine. I'll teach you to love me. But
TIB.
279
there is one thing of which I must remind
you.'
4 What is that ?' she said indifferently.
4 Well, it's true that I was accused of steal-
ing money and altering the figures of a cheque.
How on earth Brandreth got hold of the
accusation which has ruined my life I cannot
tell. But I didn't do it, Tib ; I didn't do it.
Had I been guilty I had never asked you to
marry me. The hardship is, that though I
should live to the age of Methusaleh, I must
always be stamped with the black mark of
suspicion and be under a cloud.'
4 I'm no' caring,' she answered. c I wad
marry ye though ye were a murderer.'
'We'll have the wedding as soon as I can
get a house. I think there's one standing
empty at the steading. I bought some furni-
ture at the same time I bought your wedding
dress.'
'The bride shouldna hurry on the bride-
groom; but I beg ye'll hae it quickly, while
I'm in the humour for't.'
' I'll take care you don't slip through my
fingers ; I'll keep a good grip now I've got
you. The man that snatches you from me
28o
TIB.
must be much stronger than Gordon Brand-
O
reth. Oh that I could see your dear face
rightly ! Many are the tortures I have suffered
since hearing I had lost you. I'll wait till our
wedding-day for a kiss. You owe me dozens
for the hard words you have said to me.'
' Ye maun hae patience. I'll do my best, but
I'm no' pretending that I can lo'e ye as I do
Gordon. I doot I'm no' sic a prize as ye think.'
' I'm not afraid,' said Yule, smiling. ' You'll
always be a prize to me.'
'We'll be meeting up-bye at the big hoose
afore lang. Ye're awfu' gude, Ericht, to marry
a lass that disna lo'e ye. But ye ken what to
expect, sae ye canna be disappointed.'
' Perhaps I'm pleasing myself a little in the
matter as well as helping you out of a difficulty.
I'll take the letter to the schoolhouse for you.'
' Bless me, Yule, are ye gaun to haver the
haill nicht wi' Brandreth's sweetheart?' shouted
Oman Little across the darkness and the rain.
' He'll be like tae ca' the heid aff yer shoulders
when he hears.'
' What are ye interrupting the lad for ?'
asked Donald Bain. ' Losh, he's only courting
a bonnie lass. Speir at him gin he thinks
TIB.
28r
there's onything to compare wi't. Oh, here
he is to speak for himsel'. Why, there's a
letter in's hand. Hae ye been at the post, or
was the postman there too ?'
The orra man knelt down on the straw
beside the lantern, and scribbled a few words
on the envelope Tib had directed to Brandreth.
' Keep oot o' my road, Yule,' said the shep-
herd. 4 Ye're as weet as though ye had been
under the Loups o' Noran for 'oors. Ye'll gie
the lamb the rheumatics.'
' What are ye gaun to do noo ?' inquired
Oman.
4 Make preparation for my wedding with
Tib Shiel, to be sure,' answered the orra
man coolly. 4 To-morrow is Sunday; very
convenient for our banns being proclaimed.
Wednesday will be our wedding-day. Will
you come, Oman, and be my best man ?'
CHAPTEE XXII.
HE heavy rain clouds were just lifting
from the mountain tops and the big
pine forests, stretching away up the
narrow, rugged glen. The air was beginning
to be astir with birds telling each other that
the day had dawned, and that the wild, dash-
ing rain during the night had brought plenty
of nice fat worms to the surface of the red
furrows in the newly-ploughed field, across the
brow of the hill at the other side of Eskmains.
The wind, although cold, was full of sweets, as
though it had been blowing over great beds
of violets. Brandreth had passed a sleepless
night, and had therefore risen earlier than
usual. He had been much excited by announc-
ing his engagement, and receiving the con-
gratulations of all and sundry. He regretted
282
TIB,
283
having listened to Tib's petition for a delay.
What had they to wait for ? Excepting Clova,
Tib had no relation to consult, and he believed
she would not interfere in any way. She was
too fond of Tib to wish to injure her. He
would bring Tib to the little schoolhouse on
the broomy knowe, where many generations of
country schoolmasters had lived and taught
before him. Life was short. Never should
they be parted from one another any longer
than could be helped. He would have time to
go to the cottage and arrange about having
the banns proclaimed that morning before the
' kirk meetin'.' So thinking, Brandreth lighted
his pipe, descended the steep straight ladder
leading from the attic above where he slept
into the passage below. He let down the bar
across the door, intending to go to the Broon
Ford, where he had first spoken to Tib Shiel.
He smiled at the recollection of his standing
on the unsteady plank bridge.
How long ago it seemed since that autumn
Sunday evening! But there was another
remembrance connected with the Broon Ford.
How he wished he could beat out his luckless
friendship with Clova for ever from his mind I
284
TIB.
But everything had gone wonderfully well so
far. He would induce Tib to let him have the
banns put up that very morning, and then
4
they could be married any day they liked
during the week.
As he opened the door, his eye was caught
by an envelope lying on the ground within the
threshold. Somebody must have pushed it
through the aperture beneath the door. He
picked it up, not feeling any curiosity, thinking
the envelope probably contained a complaint
from an anxious parent about a child whose
progress was not quick enough to satisfy its
relations, and this method of despatching the
missive had been taken that it might be certain
to reach its destination. To* Brandreth's
astonishment, he saw that the envelope was
directed in Tib's writing. Certain words were
written beneath the direction in another and
unfamiliar hand. 'I have beaten you, and
am going to marry Tib Shiel on Wednesday.
—E. Y.'
Brandreth flushed scarlet with anger at the
orra man's presumption. Still, surely he would
not have ventured to write so daringly to Brand-
reth had he not received some encouragement.
TIB.
285
What could have happened? Brandreth's
guilty conscience at once told him it must he
something connected with Clova. What a
fool he had been, to believe her assurances
of reticence on the subject! She had main-
tained silence until able to inflict a crushing
blow upon her quondam admirer. Brandreth
dallied with Tib's letter, although within the
envelope lay contained the reason of the orra
man's strange conduct. Tearing open the
envelope with reluctance, a moment's glance
was sufficient to make him master of its
contents.
Just at first the schoolmaster's vanity
%
asserted itself, and he could hardly believe it
possible that Tib could actually in cold blood
renounce the prospect of being his wife.
But presently he realised the situation. He
knew that Tib loved with an intensity and
fervour such as comes only once in a life.
But he clearly understood that she was quite
capable of putting her love aside for Clova's
sake. For his part, Brandreth was sure he
could not live without Tib. He took out his
watch and considered whether he should have
time to settle with the session-clerk about the
286
TIB.
banns before speaking to Tib; for see her he
must. He concluded to go to Tib first.
As it chanced, he had not long to wait. He
overtook her while she was walking homewards.
She was wearing her black Sunday gown, and
the coarse sack yet covered her shoulders.
Her face was very white; dark purple circles
under her eyes. She was bareheaded, her rich
hair rough and untidy, being blown about by
the wind; but nevertheless she was beautiful
in Gordon Brandreth's sight.
' Tib !' he said, extending his hands towards
her. ' Tib!'
She shook her head, turning away in silence.
' What is the meaning of this letter ?' he
asked. ' I left you yesterday full of joy and
happiness about our wedding. What has gone
wrong, that you should write to me in such
terms ? Tell me, dear Tib !'
41 thocht I wrote it plain eneuch for ony-
body to understand,' she said, with a mournful
flash in her heavy eyes. ' Oh, why did ye
come here, Gordon ?'
'Because I don't intend to take my dismissal;
because I mean to make you my wife at once;
because I can't live without you.'
TIB. 287
'I doot ye'll hae to try't. Maybe it was
natural ye should come when we had been
meaning to be married, but ye had better hae
bidden at hame. But it's a' ower atween us
twa. I hae found ye oot! We maun part,
and that for ever.'
' Tib, you must hear me. I will never give
you up. No one shall separate us. Our love
is a golden chain, and the links of that chain
can never be broken. Death itself cannot
quench our love.'
' But your fauseness to Clova can.'
' Did she ? But she must have forsworn
herself, after all her pledges to the contrary.'
'No; 'twas the ring that showed what ye
were, Gordon,—a hypocrite o' the deepest dye.'
'I always said you loved C]ova better than
me,' he cried passionately. 4 Oh! accursed,
thrice accursed ring ! What demon possessed
me to give it to you ? Oh, why did not I look
at the case before taking it out of the house ?
I was in such a hurry to get to you, or I
should have done so, and I never doubted
the jeweller had put in the right ring in the
shop at Fernlea; I saw it in his hand. Clova
never really cared for me. We were never
288
TIB.
engaged; it was merely a friendship, a flirt-
ation. Bring her here before me, and ask if
we were bound in any way. She knows we
never were/
* Oh, nae doot ye were unco carefu' that ye
shouldna be compromised/ said Tib, with
bitterest scorn in her voice. ' Ay, an' ye
got the puir lassie to lo'e ye, an' then flung
her aside when it suited ye.'
4 Clova was a great flirt. Many's the
young man she led on for her own amusement,
and threw over when she wanted a new
interest.'
'The lassie couldna help being bonnie an'
weel likit. It wasna her blame gin she couldna
fancy them.'
c But supposing that I did behave badly to
Clova,—I don't for an instant admit that I did,
but instance it merely for the sake of argument,
—if my love for her grew cold as I became
better acquainted with you, was there any use
in continuing an irksome bond? Suppose I
had married Clova while every pulse in my
body quickened at the thought of you,—when
I never could see you without longing to
draw you to my breast, and stroke your
TIB.
289
beautiful hair,—what sort of a marriage would
it have been, when I loathed the sight of her
and yearned every moment to get away to
you ? Do you think it would have been any
pleasure for me, or—as you think so much
more of her than you ever did of me—shall I
say for Clova ?'
41 aye said I couldna tell/ replied Tib
huskily ; 4 neither I can.'
%
41 don't hold—I never did hold—with those
who would make a man keep a bargain with a
woman when all love on his part has utterly
flown. Love is the essence and binding power
of the whole ; if love be wanting, then the
promise is broken.'
4 Ay, ye're a grand talker,' she said in slow,
emotionless tones.
4 Such a marriage as you wish me to make
with Clova would be the veriest mockery of
what real marriage should be. Better a sharp
pain, once and for all, than an enduring misery
such as one sometimes sees, and, having seen,
comprehends why at times such terrible
tragedies occur. Tib, I love you.'
4 Ance it was sweet to hear that, but then
I thocht ye had ne'er lo'ed a lass but myselV
T
290
TIB
4 Nor have I. Love was unknown to me
until I met you.'
4 Sae ye telt Clova, nae doot. Oh, that's
the warst o't; I canna escape frae my
trouble! If it could pass awa, but it maun
bide for ever. Noo, gang yer ways, Gordon,
an' my last word is that I bid ye fareweel.'
4 Oh, not that cold word ! Give me some
hope. Think what an existence you are
condemning me to. Had it been* any other
person than Clova, would you not have over-
looked my fault ?—if it be a fault to have lost
sight of everything else in- loving you.'
4 Dinna try me !' she cried.
Tib moved away.
4 Let me kiss you once more,' entreated
Brandreth. 4 Why should all your consider-
ation be for Clova ? Have you none for
me ?'
4 None,' she answered. 4 We took our last
kiss aneath the blackthorn bush. We were
sweethearts then, noo we're strangers. For-
bye, I'm the orra man's promised wife, an'
we're to be wed on Wednesday first.'
4 You're afraid of yourself; you daren't
trust yourself !' cried Brandreth. 4 You love
TIB.
291
me, and you fear that if you remain single you
would be persuaded to marry me at last.'
4 Gin ye ken sae weel, how do ye ask ?'
e I think you needn't have been in such a
hurry to forsake me and marry Yule,' he said
reproachfully, in a hoarse whisper. 4 Though
am such a beast in your estimation, you
might at least have waited until my kisses
had had time to grow cold on your lips
before you obliterated their traces with
Yule's.'
4 He hasna kissed me yet,' she answered
simply.
4 What an idiot he must be!' said Brandreth.
4 Tak' yer hand awa' frae mine, Maister
Brandreth. You an' me's naething to ane
anither noo.'
He obeyed her command mechanically ; but,
as he did so, a sob extorted by the mental
torture he was enduring escaped from him,
for
' He had loved her, loved, ay, loved her,
As a man just once may love.'
Tib had stepped some paces nearer the
little path in the plantation, but she stopped
and looked at Brandreth on hearing this
292 TIB.
evidence of his grief. He was leaning
against the rough red stem of a stone pine,
and she saw that he was crying. She her-
self was a singularly tearless woman, probably
owing to her superb health and strong nature,
but she was deeply touched by this token of
Gordon Brandreth's agitation.
4 Oh, dinna do that, Gordon!' she said in-
voluntarily, and speaking more gently than
she had done during the whole of their inter-
view. ' We maun part; there's nae help for't.
Sae bear it like a man.'
She turned deliberately from Brandreth,
and her glance rested on the blue-grey smoke
curling up amidst the bare and leafless trees
from the fire in the cottage, where Clova was
still sound asleep. But Clova did not know
the sacrifice that Tib had made for her. A
few hours later would discover the change of
bridegroom to her as well as to the Valros
folks.
Brandreth observed the direction of Tib's
eyes, and he understood it was vain to urge
his cause further.
• As time wears on, ye'll think again o' Clova.
We'll no' meet often i' the future, for ye'll
TIB.
293
sune be ganging awa' frae Valros,' she added.
' Fare-ye-weel, Maister Brandreth.'
Presently she had left him, and he was
alone. He did not go after her, feeling
stunned from the suddenness with which cir-
cumstances had changed ; and yet he thought
he need not have been surprised by Tib's
decision. Her love for Clova was the ruling
power of her life.
CHAPTER XXIII
ID ye see the schulemaister gang
galloping by this forenoon ? Never
saw I a man ride like yon since the
i
halflin laddie fell into the Deil's Pot up the
water, an's faither rode to Fernlea for the
doctor when the puir soul was gotten oot
deid.'
' Ay, the laddie was doomed to be drooned.
Didna he meet a coffin wi's name on't, floating
i' the air, when he was walking up the glen to
the smiddy ?'
4 Sae they said. But it wad be only an auld
wife's tale. They say the schulemaister's gane
clean daft anent Tib Shiel.'
' Is't because she wadna marry him, an' has
ta'en the orra man instead ? Losh, he's
gotten little to put him aboot, then.'
294
TIB,
295
' The maister an' mistress hae gi'en them
a fine supper. There's to be dancing an' a
fiddler, no' to mention the piper frae yont the
Loups o' Noran.'
4 Some folks think it was Clova Shiel the
schulemaister was wanting.'
4 No, no ; Tib was his lass. "Weel, gin she
could hae gotten Maister Brandreth, as it
seems she could, she was a fule to tak' up wi'
the orra man.'
e She was as distrackit for Maister Brandreth
as he was for her, but there was some disturb-
ance anent anither lassie he had been carrying
on wi' a while back.'
• • • • 9 ■ I
The barn doors were thrown open, affording
full view of tables covered with a plentiful
supply of tempting viands, and numbers of
bright, happy lads and lassies were already
assembled. The orra man and his bride were
standing together where a broad stream of
yellow sunlight poured in upon the dark
floor. Oman Little and Clova Shiel, who were
acting as best man and best maid, were
beside them.
Clova looked at her sister from time to time.
296
TIB.
She was totally unconscious that Tib had
given up her lover for her. Tib had told her
she had mistaken her feelings, and Clova fully
believed that she had in reality cared for Ericht
Yule since his arrival at Eskmains. It would
never have occurred to Clova, however fond
she was of Tib, to have voluntarily relinquished
Gordon Brandreth in order that he might
marry her sister; therefore it did not strike
her that there was any sacrifice in the sudden
alteration of Tib's matrimonial plans. In
consequence, Tib did not find it so difficult to
keep up appearances before Clova. After all,
it seemed a natural ending. The orra man
had always admired her since she had brought
him to Eskmains in such a romantic manner.
Tib's face was white, but possibly the dark
purple of her gown caused her to look pale.
Once Clova caught sight of her sister's face
when she was off guard for a moment, and
she was startled by the look of suffering
in the eyes. She drew her aside to an
unoccupied corner of the barn.
'Ye're happy, arena ye?' she said, with
unusual anxiety.
Hitherto Clova had never been uneasy about
TIB.
297
Tib, but the near approach of her marriage
had made her understand a little how much
the elder woman had loved her, and how
greatly she had depended upon her. The
old order of things was passing away from her.
The two sisters could never be again the same
to each other. No doubt Yule had freely and
willingly offered that Clova should share Tib's
home, but that must of necessity be very
different from living at the cottage.
' Oh ay, I'm happy eneuch,' she replied.
She smiled, and to Clova her smile was sadder
than the saddest tears.
' Ericht has telt ye wha he was an' whaur
he cam' frae, hasna he ?' asked Clova; 4an' a'
aboot what Maister Brandreth accused him o'
doing ? He's to be yer man, an' he'll hae ta'en
ye intae his confidence.'
4 I've never askit ae word at him, an' he's
never said ae word to me. I ken nae mair
wha he is than the day I first saw him. But
I can trust him.'
4 He should hae opened his heart to ye.
Marriage isna for twa-three days—it's for
life.'
Bv this time Tib was once more mistress of
298
TIB.
herself, and she laughed outright at Clova's
concern.
' He's King o' the Tinklers, as ye christened
him, Clova, an' I'm to be queen,' said she
cheerfully. 'Dinna ye think Queen o' the
Tinklers a grand title ?'
4 He maun hae money, for yer goon is o'
braw, braw saytin. But maist onything be-
comes ye. A bonnie bride is sune buskit.'
' I hope the minister has not mistaken the
hour,' exclaimed Yule. 4 Surely he is long in
coming ?'
' I hae kenned him real forgetful whiles,'
said Ornan Little. 'He never minded aboot
the baptism o' the smith's wife's last baby
until the following day, an' she was that
affronted she was near leavin' the congre-
gation.'
4 Oh, puir man, he should be excused; his
memory's never been sae gude since his indue-
tion,' said Donald Bain. ' Ye see, he's teetotal,
and when he returned the calls o' the folk, ilk
*
ane had tea ready for him. Whiles he drank
seven and aucht cups o' tea in an afternoon,
an' as mony mair in the evening. He fair
lost his memory wi' sae meikle tea-drinking,
TIB. 299
asides being in bis bed for weeks afterwards
wi' tbe effects o't, when the calls were
finished/
4 It'll be gey lang afore ye loss yer memory
frae the same cause, Donald,' said Oman Little
slyly-
When the general laugh at Donald Bain's
explanation of the minister's bad memory had
died away, Oman Little contrived to draw
nearer Clova, thinking he would be unobserved
in the gathering gloaming. The spring even-
ing was deepening into dusk. The shadows
in the corners of the large building grew
darker and longer. Blackbirds and thrushes
were holding a concert amongst themselves in
the garden at Eskmains. The wedding guests
were waxing merry, their voices making quite
a din; and Oman thought he might never have
so favourable an opportunity again.
' When I bocht the wedding-ring for Tib, as
the best man aye does for the bride, I bocht
an extra ane,' he whispered in Clova's reluctant
ear. ' I am best man, an' ye're best maid;
you an' me should follow the example o' Tib
an' the orra man, an' we'll hae anither blithe
wedding i' the barn afore lang.'
3°°
TIB.
' I hae ower meikle respect to wed ye when
I dinna lo'e ye,' she answered.
41 wad wark for ye, an' ye needna do ony-
thing but play the pianny a' day. I wad peel
the tatties an' keep the hoose clean for ye.'
4 Dinna be thinking o' me that gait. There's
anither lad that I'm caring for; dinna speir
his name. I ken weel we'll never come the-
gither, but I canna cheenge.'
4 Then I'll no' press ye ony mair,' he answered
in a dull, cold tone.
1 Ye'll find anither lass by an' by.'
4 Maybe I will an' maybe no',' he returned.
{I'm something like yersel', I'm sweer to
cheenge. But gin ye dinna fancy me, there's
an' end o't.'
In the gathering darkness of the night,
engaged in talking to one another, no person
observed Gordon Brandreth steal down the
ladder from the straw loft into the barn.
The last two days had indeed left their
mark upon him. Hardly anybody would
have believed that this wild-looking man, with
unkempt hair and bloodshot eyes, had any-
thing in common with Gordon Brandreth,
who had been regarded as a bit of a dandy
TIB,
301
in his way. Brandreth had not known before
what it was to be thwarted in any plan, and
Tib's throwing him over had gone hard with
him. He burned to snatch Tib away from
Yule. He was in a consuming fire, which
gave him no peace night or day. He had
scarcely slept since Tib had told him the
forget-me-not ring had revealed his infidelity
to Clova. His letters were unopened, his
teaching neglected. He was in the condition
which in an excitable man leads to violent
excesses, and even madness itself. He wanted
to look at Tib's face once more, and comfort
himself with the thought that although she
had had the strength of will to leave him for
O
another, yet she was supremely miserable.
But that was not the only reason for Gordon
Brandreth's coming to the wedding. He stood
in the shade, partly because he was an un-
invited guest, and Yule, being master of the
wedding feast, might turn him out; and he
kept in the background also, because from his
hiding - place he could the better watch the
countenances of the bride and bridegroom.
Yule was holding her hand, and did not
seem inclined to let it go again in a hurry.
302
TIB.
Tib had a smile on her lips, and her clear eyes
were dilated, and shone like stars, while the
dark bronzed face of the orra man beamed
with pride. He swore to himself that her
confidence in him should not be misplaced.
She was going to marry him without so
much as hearing whose son he was, whether
his parents were alive or dead, and without
making any inquiry into his antecedents.
Yule did not forget that although she
had accepted him because of her desperate
wish to erect an impassable barrier between
herself and Brandreth, she had invariably
championed him against all comers. And
whether the marriage were to suit her own
convenience or not, she was certainly giving
the most complete token of her faith in his
uprightness that any woman could show a
man.
' Here is the minister,' said Yule. ' These
are the necessary papers, sir. Our banns were
proclaimed on Sunday, and no objections were
lodged.'
The minister—a mild, absent-minded in-
dividual, like many dwellers in the country,
far away from the noisy screams of steam
TIB. 303
whistles—had little notion of punctuality. He
had been carrying a blue gauze butterfly net,
which he laid down in a reflective manner
peculiarly irritating to Ericht Yule, who had
been on the tenterhooks of suspense for a
considerable period. The minister examined
the marri&ge lines carefully.
4 They are quite correct,' he answered, to
the orra man's intense relief. 4 Stand forward,
Ericht Yule and Tib Shiel. Will you take'—
41 forbid the marriage !' shouted Brandreth,
darting out of the shadowy corner where he
had been lurking. 41 forbid the marriage !'
4 How dare you interfere ?' cried Yule, turn-
ing fiercely upon Brandreth. 4 Clear out of
this, or I'll make you !'
'There is something wrong here,' said the
minister. 'Control your temper, Mr. Yule.
Why do you forbid the marriage, Mr.
Brandreth ?'
Instead of replying, Brandreth gave a low,
shrill whistle, and at that signal the sheriff-
officer, with a policeman from Fernlea, stepped
*
out of the carriage in which they had just
driven up to Eskmains; and entered the barn.
Then ensued a pause of breathless expectancy
TIB.
for the next move in the scene. The guests
crowded round the bridal group, while the
sheriff-officer tapped Yule on the shoulder.
4 Young man, I have a warrant for your
arrest,' he said, slipping a pair of shining
steel handcuffs over the orra man's wrists.
So adroitly was it done that Yule had not
time to struggle against his fate, and was a
prisoner almost before he knew what had
happened.
' Your question is answered now,' remarked
Brandreth.
Tib uttered a cry, and clung to Yule as
though for protection.
' What am I arrested for ?' he asked.
' The charges are written here,' responded
the sheriff-officer, pointing to the warrant.
'Forging a cheque of your uncle's, Mr. Yule
of Nine wells, and afterwards embezzling the
money.'
' I'll no' let him awa' until we're married !'
exclaimed Tib.
' Won't you marry me before I go ?' en-
treated Yule; ' for go, I suppose, I must. Two
minutes would suffice for the ceremony.'
4 No, certainly not. Such a proceeding,
TIB.
under the circumstances, is out of the
question,' returned the minister. 'You must
have lost your head as well as your heart to
make such a request. Tib will perhaps thank
me some day for my apparent cruelty.'
' There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the
lip, Miss Shiel,' said Brandreth, with bitterest
mockery. 'What do you think of the orra
man now ?'
' What I aye thocht o' him !' cried Tib. ' I'll
uphaud his innocence wi' my last breath, an'
pray for him nicht an' day, until he comes
back here wi' his just dealing made clear as
the daylicht. An' even though he should be
found guilty an' imprisoned, I'll never believe
he's guilty, never! He'll find me waiting
ready to be his wife. Should the warst come
to the warst, he maun thole it, an' dree
his weird. But I'll only cherish him the
mair.'
' God bless you !' said Yule.
' Come, come, hurry up,' said the sheriff-
officer. ' I don't wonder you are loth to leave
so attractive a bride; but my orders were
that we must start immediately.'
Yule kissed Tib's white cheek, and then
u
3°6
TIB.
obeyed tbe commands issued by the repre-
sentative of tbe law.
' Ay, ay! We'll no' forget Tib Shiel's
wedding for a while,' remarked Donald
Bain. ' I grudge that a' thae gude cookies
should be wasted, sae I'll put a few o' them
i' my pockets, an' they'll never be missed, an'
tak' them to eat i' the shepherd's shieling.'
CHAPTER XXIV.
HARDLY kenned ye, Maister Brand-
reth/ said Clova, stepping back a few
paces. ' Ye maun hae been terribly,
ill, surely, for ye're awfu' cheenged.'
Brandreth let the pipe he had been smoking
fall to the ground. He was sitting outside,
under one of the schoolhouse windows.
Clova had not expected to find Brandreth at
home, there having been a rumour at Eskmains
that he had gone away for change of air. She
had therefore taken the opportunity of bring-
ing back a certain piece of jewellery Tib had
left in her keeping, and which she meant to
hand over to Brandreth's housekeeper.
' Have you come to ask after your poor
old master V he inquired.
' I thocht ye had been in Fernlea, or I
307
3°8
TIB.
shouldna been here,' she answered. ' Ye've
had a shake, Maister Brandreth.'
' Yes, both mentally and physically. It was
nearly all up with me.'
' Perhaps it has dune ye gude,' said
Clova.
' I think it has,' he replied, with unwonted
humility ; 4 as Tib used to say, I had too good
an opinion of myself.'
'I had a letter frae her the day. She is
at Nine wells wi' Erich t. We maun ca' her
Mistress Yule noo she's married.'
She wondered what effect this piece of news
would have upon Brandreth, but he bore
the statement without wincing, and met her
inquiring gaze with a smile. She was
astonished to find he could mention Tib's
name without any outward emotion. But, at
any rate, Brandreth was nothing to her. She
meant to be very cold and stiff with her former
lover, who had discarded her so cruelly for
her sister. But he had paid the penalty of
his fickleness by the consequences speedily
following Tib's subsequent knowledge of his
conduct towards Clova, as well as by the
severe attack of brain fever from which he had
TIB.
309
so recently recovered. She could not forget
that he had once loved her. Memory brought
back recollections of tender words spoken in
her ear in that very spot. Still, Brandreth
had thrown her over without the least com-
punction when it suited his own convenience.
While remembering the tenderness, she must
recall the bitterness as well.
41 am glad I was able to make some amends
for the past, and help to liberate Yule. I did
not know for certain that putting those notes
in his pocket, which he spent in buying that
satin gown and furniture, would get him into
trouble, but I confess that I suspected and
hoped it would. His uncle's wife seems to
have been his deadly enemy throughout.'
4 Ay, it was she wha made the mischief aboot
the cheque, sending Ericht to the bank to get
ten pounds for his uncle, Dr. Yule. The
cheque was gi'en him in a closed envelope, an'
sae he didna look at it afore leaving Nine wells.
The bank cashier said naething, but handed
him over a bundle o' notes. Ericht was sur-
prised to get sae mony, finding a hundred
instead o' ten. The cashier offered him the
cheque again, and Ericht replied there maun
hae been some cheenge, an' nae doot it was
a' richt.'
4 Mrs. Yule never liked him. She was a
widow, with one grown-up son, William Pol-
warth, who is deaf, when Dr. Yule married
her. Ninewells is a pretty little property
near Deerhope, and Ericht, when his parents
died, was brought up by his uncle, an old
bachelor. Ericht was a medical student, and
had already distinguished himself in his
studies. Mrs. Yule wanted Ninewells for her
son, and, to effect her purpose, thought of dis-
gracing Ericht in the eyes of his uncle. She
altered the figures of the cheque. Ericht was
not prosecuted, upon condition of his leaving
Ninewells at once for altogether. He protested
that he gave the whole bundle of notes to his
aunt, although she only produced ten single
notes. But he was not believed, and was
kicked out of Ninewells to do the best he could
for himself. Finding after Ericht had gone
that Dr. Yule repented not having given him
another chance, and that both he and her son
were convinced of his innocence, she was
determined to bring his guilt home to him
without a shadow of doubt, and therefore sent
TIB.
me those notes, which I put in the orra man's
pocket. I had previously been corresponding
with her in connection with an advertisement
I had seen in the newspaper.'
4 An' it was base, real base o' ye !' cried
Clova.
' Yes; but though I wished him ill then, I
had no idea of the determination of his aunt.
She appeared to take such a kindly interest in
his doings, was so anxious to hear of his wel-
fare, and so on. These notes were the direct
means of his being arrested, the bank having at
i
once taken the numbers of the embezzled notes
and given orders for them to be stopped. Mrs.
Yule told me she wanted to give her nephew
a small present unknown to him, as she was
sure he must want money.'
'Ay, it was sair upon him, puir lad,
driven frae hame, an' hardly ae bawbee to rub
against anither. He was near starving that
day Tib an' I found him at the foot o' the
Lang Brae. Wi' nae money an' nae character,
it's hard to live or get a situation.'
4 Had Mrs. Yule's son, who adored Ericht,
not lost his health, and seemed at the point of
death, the orra man would certainly have been
312
TIB.
tried and condemned to penal servitude, for
the evidence against him was overwhelming.
But the deaf lad was all in all to his mother/
4 The orra man! It's queer to think o'
Ericht Yule as the orra man. My brither-in-
law, too.'
4 He is a noble fellow !' said Brandreth
enthusiastically.
4 Ay ; Tib says that when Mistress Yule
confessed it was her doing, an' that Ericht was
%
innocent, he never ance reproached her, but
said to her, " Let bygones be bygones, and
fairplay for the future," since through her lie
had won his wife. An' he begged his uncle
no' to be angered at his aunt noo it was a'
cleared up.'
4 Mrs. Yule's son got well from the moment
he knew Ericht was free, and could come and
see him.'
4 Tib and Ericht are to bide a while at
Ninewells, then he's gaun back to college to
finish his studies, an' syne he's coming oot
as a doctor. I'm gaun to Ninewells sune
mysel'.'
4 Yule has lost a year of work.'
41 dinna think he minds that since he's
TIB. 313
gotten Tib. He was aye daft aboot her.
daursay ye dinna wonder at that, though.'
' No, I don't. But I have outlived my
infatuation, for it was an infatuation. I can
speak freely to you, Clova, for is not she your
%
sister ? She is a most beautiful woman, and
would look well in the Greek costume '
Clova tapped first one daintily shod foot on
the ground, and then the other impatiently.
She had gathered a bunch of ox-eyed daisies,
and as Brandreth spoke in praise of Tib she
ruthlessly tore one of the flowers to pieces,
«
petal by petal.
' " He loves me," is not that the conclusion,
Clova?' asked Brandreth. '" He loves me,
he loves me not, he loves me." I saw it ended
in that way.'
wasna trying my fortune,' said Clova,
with dignity.
£ Weren't you ?' replied Brandreth. ' I was
talking to you about your sister. She is
a most beautiful woman, and would make a
splendid model for Hector's wife, Andromache.
I loved her.'
If Brandreth could speak of Tib and her
✓
husband calmly, Clova could not yet stand
3T4
TIB.
unmoved to listen to his saying that he loved
Tib.
4 Need ye tell me that ?' she cried in-
dignantly.
41 said I loved, not that I love her. I was
mad—yes, that is the right expression; but I
am no longer mad, and I understand that a
man never makes a more contemptible ass of
himself than when he forces his love upon a
woman who does not want it.'
4 I brocht back yer ring, Maister Brandreth,'
said Clova coldly. 4 That's why I cam' here
the day, no' to hear descriptions o' yer love
for Tib.'
4 My ring !' exclaimed Brandreth. 4 What
ring ?'
4 Ay, your ring. First ye gi'ed it to me,
an' syne ye gi'ed it to Tib. For the second
time I restore your property.'
4 Oh, that ring ! I never wanted to see the
abominable thing again.'
4 But ye maun ; for it's yours, an' no' mine.'
4 Clova, as you once said to me, keep it
yourself. Keep it Mondays, Tuesdays, all the
days of the week ; keep it always. Will you
forgive me ? I know you have much to for-
TIB.
3i5
give, but I am a different, and, I trust, better
man now. Let me have another trial, and
prove how fond I can be of you.'
41 dinna think ye're needing me. Ye can
console yersel' with the leddy frae Fernlea.'
4 No; it's you whom I love. I have seen
the error of my ways. I have come back to
my sweet little first love, if she will have me.
How could I ever have forsaken you ?'
4 I'm no' surprised ye should hae fancied
Tib, but she didna really care for ye.'
4 Perhaps not. At any rate, she thought a
great deal more of you, Clova. She was
devoted, heart, soul, and body, to you. Yes,
you were her sweetheart, the only person she
loved.'
4 She'll be happy, though, wi' Ericht; they
were the same way o' thinking—that parti-
cular, an' wi' sae mony scruples, whaur I saw
nane ava.'
4 It's raining a little,' remarked Brandreth.
4 You have no umbrella. I will get you mine
from the schoolhouse.'
A shower was coming up from the hills.
Black Cairn had suddenly lost his blue summer
hue, and was being covered with rain clouds.
3l6
TIB.
Heavy drops were falling on the tufts of the
emerald-green moss growing on the rain-washed
thatch of the schoolhouse roof; birds were
flying low over the fields of waving grain and
clover-sprinkled grass, while Brandreth's tame
pigeons came and settled above the doorway,
%
arching their glossy necks and cooing softly.
Across the upper part of the glen a rainbow
was spread, broad gleams of golden light
falling beyond the shifting transparent tints,
and ' cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo !' sounded from
the depths of a thicket in the pine wood.
Brandreth hurried down the steep ladder
from his room in the schoolhouse, and came
to Clova with the umbrella.
' I am gaun to tea at Eskmains,' said she.
' How odd ! So am I,' he answered.
4 Listen to the cuckoo,' she observed. 4 I've
no' heard it afore this season.'
' Nor have I. It's lucky to hear it together.
Clova, you haven't told me yet that you
forgive me. When I look back I see what a
conceited prig I was. Forgive me, Clova !'
He put up the umbrella, and held it over
her head.
' I dinna ken that I hae ony thing to forgie,'
TIB. 317
she answered demurely. ' We werena en-
gaged. I had nae claim upon ye, Gordon—
Maister Brandreth, I mean. Maybe it's best
to forget, an' no' bring the auld stories to licht
again.'
4 Clova, I have told you I was mad for a
while, but I have since felt what a fool I was
to cast away such a heart of gold as yours.
Tib and I were totally unsuited. She is cold,
and hard, and proud. I could never have
lived up to her high standard of right and
wrong ; we should have been mutually dis-
appointed. What a man wants in his wife is
affection, not criticism.'
' Here's yer ring; ye've no' ta'en it yet.'
4 Put on the ring; it was made for you.'
4 It never fitted Tib; it was ower sma' for
her.'
' Let me see how well it fits you.'
She held the ring between her finger and
thumb, twirling it about in an aggravatingly
doubtful manner.
i
4 Ye didna hae the stane replaced. Tib
thocht she had lost it.'
' The stone shall be renewed by and by.
Clova, my little pupil that used to be, don't
3l8
TIB.
you remember how you brought me flowers,
long ago, when you were a lassie, and came
late to school ? I never could scold you when
you smiled up at me from your bush of yellow
locks, and laid the nosegay on my desk. Yes,
when I lay sick and miserable on my bed in
the attic yonder, staring for hours together
at the skylight above my head, and thought
of yellow-haired Clova and her nosegay, I
wished I could have her beside me to beg her
forgiveness.'
He spoke with a broken eagerness, with
catches of the breath, which showed he was
in earnest and felt what he said.
' I shall be leaving Yalros soon,' he went
on. 4 Clova, don't be too proud to forgive
me. I have humbled myself before you, and
hidden nothing of my wrong-doing.'
Clova was smiling. She had turned away
her face, and was discreetly contemplating
the remains of the ox-eyed daisies she had
dropped on the flat stone at the threshold of
the schoolhouse door. Brandreth picked up
a daisy and placed it in his button-hole.
'"He loves me." I said so, did not I,
Clova ? Shall I say, she loves me, too ? Come,
TIB.
3'9
Clova, shall we go up Noran Water on Sunday
evening ? Meet me at the Broon Ford, and
remember to be on this side of the river.'
What Clova eventually answered may best
be guessed by a remark from Mr. Carroch
about an hour later, when the schoolmaster
and his quondam pupil arrived at the farm-
house of Eskmains.
4 Bless me, Brandreth ! what are you doing
walking under an umbrella ?'
' Is it not raining ?' asked Brandreth.
' Why, it is quite fine !'
' The shower has been off long enough; in
fact, it was hardly rightly on,' said Mr.
Carroch, laughing. ' Oh, sits the wind in that
quarter ? I congratulate you, and so will Mrs.
Carroch ; it's the very thing we've been hoping
would happen. And Tib has married the
orra man ? Fancy the orra man being a gentle-
man ! He was a capital orra man, however ;
I hope I may fill his place. Mistress, here is
Clova, and Mr. Brandreth is with her. Unless
I am mistaken, they have some happy news to
tell you. Take a turn round the garden until
tea is ready.'
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