erfertfld : 
 
 \e fareer of jVinianjamiesoi^. 
 John £Daifidsoa. 
 
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 PERFERVID
 
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 z
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 THE CAREER OF NINIAN JAMIESON 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN DAVIDSON 
 
 WITH TWENTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS BY HARRY FURNISS 
 
 l'crferviduni insrcnium Scotorum 
 
 LONDON 
 
 WARD AND DOWNEY 
 
 i S90
 
 r 
 
 
 /.-■
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PART I 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN OF NINIAN JAMIESON 
 
 CHAI 
 I. 
 
 Theories ! Theories ! . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 3 
 
 2. 
 
 The 'Dunmyatt Whisky' 
 
 24 
 
 3- 
 
 Now or Never .... 
 
 59 
 
 4- 
 
 Thomsina Mercer .... 
 
 82 
 
 5- 
 
 Marjory Morton .... 
 
 96 
 
 6. 
 
 Cosmo and Thomsina 
 
 106 
 
 7- 
 
 Ninian and Marjory 
 
 PART II 
 
 nS 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE OF STRONGSOUL AND 
 SAUNDERS ELSHANDER 
 
 i. The Great Men 
 
 2. Cosmo Mortimer's Story 
 
 3- >) »> ' 
 
 4- )) » ' 
 
 5- >> " ' 
 
 {continued) 
 {continued) 
 
 {concluded) 
 
 135 
 142 
 
 157 
 177 
 206
 
 PART I 
 
 THE CAMPAIGN OF NINIAN JAMIESON 
 
 l:
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THEORIES ! THEORIES ! 
 
 ' It is reported that Mr. Ninian Jamieson, Provost of 
 Mintern, has succeeded in making diamonds by an 
 entirely original process.' 
 
 On a morning in July some years ago a red- 
 haired man noticed this announcement in a news- 
 paper, and with more than ordinary interest, because 
 he was seated in a train from Edinburgh for the 
 North on his way to Mintern. 
 
 • Ninian Jamieson.' There was a quaint flavour 
 about the name, indicating eccentricity in the bearer 
 of it, thought the red-haired man. 
 
 ' Odd people always have odd names,' he medi- 
 tated ; and addressing mentally a handsome man 
 who sat opposite, and who was the only other 
 occupant of the compartment, he thought he heard 
 himself saying, and admired his speech, ' Look at
 
 4 PERFERVID 
 
 Lord Monboddo. Nature formed him an eccentric, 
 but he came into the world with the ordinal')- name 
 of Burnet. Fate, however, was not to be outdone. 
 It made him a lawyer, and a wise one too, and 
 raised him to the bench ; and his abnormal chin, and 
 his belief in mermaids, and satyrs, and the quadru- 
 manous origin of man, preposterous in an advocate 
 called James Burnet, are all reconcilable with the 
 title. Look at Duncornet, Scarron, Suwarrow, 
 Melancthon, Dobrowsky ! They must have been 
 eccentric, and so is Ninian Jamieson.' 
 
 'On the other hand,' continued the red-haired 
 man passionately, though still mentally, to himself, 
 his face flushing with excitement, and his eyes fixed 
 on the handsome man opposite, ' look at the great 
 men, as far removed from eccentricity as eccentricity 
 is from commonplace ! How their names roll out ! 
 Cromwell, Shakespeare, Milton, Bonaparte, Nelson, 
 Goethe ! Listen to them,' he cried aloud, over- 
 come by his enthusiasm ; ' Hugo, Carlyle, Bismarck. 
 Caldcron, Plato, Barbarossa, Charlemagne ' 
 
 ' And Ninian Jamieson,' said the handsome man, 
 as the other paused, not having a name quite ready. 
 
 'Ninian Jamieson!' exclaimed the red-haired 
 man. ' How, sir ! Can you read my thoughts ? ' 
 
 ' But you were speaking aloud.'
 
 theories! theories I 5 
 
 • Was I ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; you enumerated a list of great men, and 
 came to a stop, whereupon I suggested a modern.' 
 
 ' Ninian Jamicson.' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' Is he a great man ? ' 
 
 ' Indisputably.' 
 
 The red-haired man sat up stiffly, and examined 
 the handsome man from top to toe. He felt 
 abashed, for he himself was a little stubby man, and 
 was quite aware of his inferior appearance ; whereas 
 the other was a tall man, well proportioned, and with 
 a very fine face. 
 
 ' Do you know this Ninian Jamicson ? ' asked the 
 little man fiercely, having recovered from his 
 momentary confusion. 
 
 ' I know him well.' 
 
 ' You do ! Then,' said the little man, pointing 
 to the newspaper, ' how can you reconcile the fact of 
 his being a great man with the fact that he is a 
 provost ? Is there any book published with the 
 title " Provosts Who Were Great Men," or " Provosts 
 Who Became Great Men " ? Sir, there is something 
 incompatible between greatness and the provostship 
 of a Scotch burgh. Take my word for it, men are 
 born to be provosts just as they arc born to be
 
 6 PERFERVID 
 
 great ; and just as great men are born with great 
 names, so those men who are intended for provosts 
 are born with names which have the true municipal 
 ring ; and I make bold to say that there is no 
 surname in Scotland which, in every letter of it, 
 bears more distinct impress of provostship than 
 Jamieson.' 
 
 The little man stopped, out of breath, and the 
 handsome man smiled blandly. 
 
 ' And you will allow me to state further,' con- 
 tinued the little man, when he had recovered his 
 breath, ' that you are possibly labouring under a 
 common hallucination which confounds eccentricity 
 with greatness. As surely as a man called Jamieson 
 becomes, in favourable circumstances, a provost, so 
 surely will an individual christened Ninian be 
 eccentric in a high degree. I have thus stated 
 three theories : first, great men have always 
 names which sound majestically ; second, eccentric 
 people have always eccentric names ; third, there 
 are certain names towards which municipal honours 
 never fail to gravitate. Ninian Jamieson is an 
 illustration of the second and third theories, and, 
 negatively, of the first.' 
 
 The little man folded his arms and threw himself 
 back in the corner of the carriage, his red hair
 
 theories! THEORIES'. 7 
 
 standing on end, and his gray eyes radiating theories. 
 The handsome man continued to smile blandly. 
 
 'And,' said the little man, tilting forward with a 
 new argument, ' who ever heard of a great man 
 making diamonds ? ' 
 
 ' It depends,' said the other quietly, ' for what 
 purpose he makes them.' 
 
 'Purpose!' sneered the red-haired man. 'No 
 purpose could justify a man's making diamonds.' 
 
 ' How so ? ' 
 
 There was no idea except contradiction in the 
 little red-haired man's head, so that he was at a loss
 
 S PERFERVID 
 
 for a moment or two to support the statement which 
 the handsome man had queried. 
 
 ' Because it can't be done,' he said at length, 
 with triumph. 
 
 ' But it has been done,' the other insisted. 
 
 ' I'll believe it when I see the diamonds, and the 
 making of the diamonds, and the stuff out of which 
 the diamonds arc made, and not till then,' said the 
 red-haired man. 
 
 ' You wouldn't take anybody's word for it ? ' 
 
 ' I take nobody's word for anything.' 
 
 'You don't know this Ninian Jamieson, do you ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Have you ever been in M intern ? ' 
 
 ' No ; but I'm going there now.' 
 
 ' Oh ! ' exclaimed the handsome man, with an 
 expression of satisfaction. 
 
 ' Yes. Is there anything strange in my going to 
 Mintern ? ' 
 
 ' Nothing ; except that I'm going there too.' 
 
 ' You are ! Then you can tell Ninian Jamieson, 
 provost and diamond -maker, what I think of it,' 
 said the little man, rapidly developing a passionate 
 hatred for this dignitary of Mintern whose name he 
 had not heard till that morning. 
 
 ' I'll not fail to do so,' said the handsome man.
 
 1 HEORIES ! THEORIES ! 9 
 
 ' He'll be very much concerned to hear that his name 
 indicates that he need never aspire beyond eccentricity 
 and municipality, for he believes himself to be a great 
 man, fit for a much higher destiny than a provostship.' 
 
 ' You can tell him from me that he has reached 
 his zenith.' 
 
 ' But he's only twenty-eight.' 
 
 ' That's his eccentricity. I told you ! Who but 
 ,i man called Ninian could, or would, be a provost 
 at twenty-eight ? ' 
 
 • But I don't think he'll agree with your theory 
 about names.' 
 
 ' I can't hcli) that,' said the little man with a snort, 
 and a tremendous emphasis on the personal pronoun. 
 
 ' You see,' said the handsome man, ' there are a 
 goodly number of great men whose names have a 
 very ordinary or even inferior sound.' 
 
 • Mention six,' burst out the little man, like a gun 
 that had been over-loaded. 
 
 ' Dante, Burns, Pitt, Stuart, Paul, Turner,' replied 
 the handsome man, rapidly and regularly discharging 
 the names like a six -chambered revolver. 
 
 ' But, my dear sir, don't you perceive,' said the 
 little man, very much in earnest, ' that these names 
 can't go into the same category with those I men- 
 tioned ? Dante is perhaps on the border line ; but
 
 io PERFERVID 
 
 a line there must be, and it is better to keep the class 
 of greatest men verv select. There's the test, sir. Has 
 the name a majestic sound ? No ? Out with it, then ; 
 it doesn't belong to our list. It has ? Write it up 
 in letters of gold. It's infallible. Man' — he became 
 familiar in his zeal — 'man, there's the postulate: 
 great men have always names that sound majesti- 
 cally. You can't get over that. And who's this 
 Paul ? ' 
 
 ' Paul, the Apostle.' 
 
 'Pardon — pardon!' cried the little man. 'No 
 Bible characters ! no Bible characters ! And what 
 Stuart's this ? ' 
 
 'James Stuart, the poet-king of Scotland, who 
 was the greatest ruler of his time.' 
 
 ' Oh, but that'll never do ! What about James 
 Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh — and 
 Eighth, if you like ? No, no ! When Nature pro- 
 duces a great man, she doesn't make eight of the 
 name — she doesn't make eight of the name.' 
 
 With this the red-haired man gathered his legs 
 up on the seat, and, rolling himself into a ball, waved 
 his newspaper in triumph and settled down to read. 
 He glanced over every column, some, by mistake, 
 more than once ; repeatedly his eye caught the news 
 about Ninian Jamicson.
 
 THEORIES ! THEORIES ! ■ ' 
 
 1 Niniun Jamieson, for the fifth time !' he cried. 
 untwisting himself, and bringing down both feet 
 with a crash on the floor of the carriage, while he 
 smote the newspaper between his hands as if it had 
 been the diamond-maker's cheek. Then he threw it 
 to the other end of the compartment, and, arranging 
 himself for another talk, asked of the handsome 
 man, who watched him with a constant smile, what 
 like Jamieson was. 
 
 'What like would you suppose him to be?' said 
 the handsome man. 
 
 ' What like ? Like a provost, of course — an 
 eccentric provost and diamond-maker.' 
 
 1 And what 1 ike's that?' 
 
 'A little man, broad, with a paunch ; hair of no 
 particular colour, getting gray already ; a wholesale 
 grocer, perhaps — maybe a banker. Bemused him- 
 self when a boy with chemical tricks — read about 
 the philosopher's stone, and the elixir of life. Buys 
 some platinum wire, and ammonia, and nitric acid, 
 and a muffle- furnace, and charcoal ; hears of the 
 Glasgow diamonds, goes mad, and makes 'em too. 
 Is that like him ? ' 
 
 ' Not particularly.' 
 
 'No? He'll have a turned-up nose; eyes small 
 and dark ; face keen, though getting flabby ; married
 
 12 PERFERVID 
 
 to a woman older than himself; six children ; 
 belongs to the Free Kirk. Eh ? ' 
 
 ' That's not particularly like him either.' 
 
 ' Well, all I can say is this,' said the little man, 
 thoroughly disgusted, ' that my description tallies 
 exactly with his name and quality ; and if I'm not 
 right there's something wrong, and he's not the man 
 I took him for.' 
 
 ' That's very probable.' 
 
 ' But it's not probable,' said the little man, getting 
 angry. ' Tell me the name and quality of a man, and 
 I'll give you his physical appearance and his mental 
 characteristics. Ninian Jamieson ought to be exactly 
 like my description. If he's not — why, do you suppose 
 the Fates never make mistakes ? Circumstances may 
 go all wrong, as they sometimes do. I tell you that 
 a man's name, business, appearance and character are 
 all interdependent ; and, if he knows one, a student 
 of human nature and history can deduce the others. 
 Ninian Jamieson is simply a necessary exception 
 to prove the rule. Man alive, there's the theory ! 
 Don't you see ? " The surname indicates the quality; 
 the Christian name the character." Put two and 
 two together and you get everything else.' 
 
 The handsome man, whose smile had been 
 broadening during the last speech of his travelling
 
 THEORIES ! THEORIES I 13 
 
 companion, burst, at its conclusion, into a great 
 laugh. 
 
 ' What ! ' snorted the little man, starting to his 
 feet, ' you laugh at me ! ' 
 
 The tall man did not heed the remonstrance ; he- 
 gave himself up to his laughter. He crowed and 
 neighed, and went off into apoplectic gurglings and 
 silences, only to explode again like the noise of a 
 whole farmyard. In the climax of his fit he 
 brought his hands down on the shoulders of the 
 little man, and jerked out, ' You're too delight- 
 ful ! ' 
 
 ' I'm too delightful ! ' cried the little man, aghast. 
 1 Too delightful ! Sir ! ' 
 
 Words failed him ; so he withdrew to the other 
 end of the compartment, seized the paper, and began 
 to read the leaders furiously. The storm of laughter 
 soon subsided in the tall man, but at the first stop- 
 page of the train the little man bundled up his traps 
 and left the compartment, shaking the dust of it 
 from his feet. 
 
 At three minutes past eleven, precisely three 
 minutes late, the train stopped at Mintern. The 
 red-haired man got out with his two portmanteau^, 
 his umbrella, his walking-stick, and his fishing-tackle. 
 He looked about for a porter, but he could not
 
 U 
 
 PERFERVII) 
 
 distinguish an olive-green suit in the throng that 
 filled the station. 
 
 ' What's the meaning of this ? ' he muttered. 
 ' Where have the people come from ? ' 
 
 All at once a cheer burst from the crowd. 
 
 The red-haired man looked about him in a state 
 of bewilderment. Had royalty come in the train 
 with him ? or who was this bowing gracefully as he 
 stepped to the platform ? 
 
 By heaven, it was his late companion ! The
 
 THEORIES ! THEORIES ! 15 
 
 crowd surged about him. Dozens of hands shook 
 his. A hundred voices bellowed welcome. Quickly 
 a bodyguard formed, and with difficulty a way was 
 cloven to a carriage in attendance. There a confused 
 tumult arose ; the upshot being that the horses were 
 led away, and a dozen men harnessed instead. The 
 centre of a swaying mass, the carriage moved off. 
 Shouts and laughter filled the air, in the midst of 
 which the red-haired man distinguished juvenile 
 voices crying, ' Gie's a deemant ! ' 
 
 He grew pale — one would have said his very hair 
 became less ruddy. He laid hold of a man, the 
 last of the crowd, and, detaining him by main force, 
 demanded who the hero was. 
 
 ' The Provost,' was the answer. 
 
 ' Ninian Jamieson ? ' 
 
 • Yes.' 
 
 The red-haired man relaxed his grasp, and sank 
 down on one of his portmanteaus. ' Revenge ! ' he 
 muttered. ' Revenge ! ' 
 
 The stud}- of the concrete floor of a country 
 railway- station is neither soothing nor distracting. 
 The red-haired man discovered this in a few seconds, 
 and looking up saw a porter returning leisurely to 
 his duty. 
 
 T wish my traps taken to the Mintcrn Arms,' he said.
 
 i 6 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Ta 'bus is waitin',' said the porter. 
 
 Soon everything was in — he was the sole pas- 
 senger — and the 'bus in motion ; but it had hardly 
 started when it came to a stand-still. The cause of 
 the stoppage was immediately apparent. 
 
 Headed by a scratch flute-band, and surrounded 
 by a crowd of boys and loafers, the Provost's carriage, 
 drawn by the twelve volunteers, turned into the street 
 in front of the 'bus. Ninian was bowing and smiling 
 with the bored affability of a prince. He caught 
 sight of the red-haired man, and bestowed on him 
 a particularly gracious salute, to which the reply 
 was a frown. Ninian observed the sulky expression 
 on the brick -dust face of the red-haired man, and 
 stopped his carriage. He spoke a few words to his 
 human team, and a couple of stalwart poachers, con- 
 founding utterly the driver, the boots, and the red- 
 haired man himself, transferred the luggage to the 
 Provost's carriage, while a third, opening the door 
 of the 'bus, invited its occupant to join Mr. Jamieson 
 and accompany him to his residence. 
 
 The red-haired man buttoned up his little corpu- 
 lent figure in his shooting-jacket, pulled his cap down 
 over his eyes, thrust his hands into his side pockets 
 with violence, straining his jacket about his waist, 
 and followed the Provost's messenger. A rolling
 
 theories! theories! 17 
 
 laugh greeted him as he crossed the road, for the 
 portentous frown he wore was very amusing. The 
 more the crowd indulged its mirth, the fiercer grew 
 his face, and the reciprocal action of the laughter 
 and the frown reached a point of frenzy when the 
 red-haired man stepped into the Provost's carriage, 
 and flung himself down with his legs crossed defiantly 
 and his arms tightly folded. 
 
 A brief consultation having been held by the 
 driver and the boots, they approached the carriage 
 with some undefined intention of re-takincr their 
 prey. The hooting of the crowd, however, and the 
 menacing attitude of the twelve human steeds, 
 brought them to a halt. But Ninian Jamieson, 
 anxious to get on, prevented any dispute by throw- 
 ing some silver to the hotel officials, and the 
 procession continued its way. 
 
 Although the Provost's house was not a furlong 
 from the station, it took a quarter of an hour to 
 reach it, partly owing to the winding avenue which 
 led to it, but chiefly on account of the crowd, 
 which, accompanying the carriage to the very door, 
 hampered its progress at every step. Arrived 
 there, the people seemed quite satisfied with their 
 achievement, gave three ringing cheers for their 
 chief magistrate, and retired in good order. The 
 
 C
 
 1 8 PERFERVID 
 
 twelve men who had drawn the carriage received a 
 shilling each. They loitered about in front of the 
 house until the last of the crowd had vanished ; 
 then, with the help of a servant, they got away 
 through the kitchen -garden by a back gate, and 
 started off for Ballany, a village two miles from 
 Mintern, where they could drink the whole of the 
 money themselves — a consummation impossible in 
 Mintern, as each had many drouthy friends. 
 
 The little red-haired man handed his card to the 
 Provost the moment they entered the house. 
 
 ' Mr. Cosmo Mortimer. Ha ! ' said the Provost, 
 'you are then a great man ? ' 
 
 'No,' said Mortimer, 'I'm not a great man — yet. 
 My name was Hugh Smith. Now, as it is utterly 
 impossible for a person called Hugh Smith to attain 
 greatness of any kind, I changed my name to Cosmo 
 Mortimer, and I am struggling to live up to it.' 
 ' It is a noble ambition,' said Jamieson. 
 ' Well, it doesn't matter whether it is or not. I 
 want to talk to you.' 
 
 ' Won't you wash your hands first ? ' 
 ' No.' 
 
 'John, take these portmanteaus to the blue-room,' 
 said Jamieson to a footman dressed in Highland 
 garb.
 
 THEORIES ! THEORIES ! 19 
 
 'John,' said Mortimer, 'leave these portmanteaus 
 alone. Come, sir,'- to Jamieson — 'take me where 
 I can talk to you.' 
 
 ' As you please,' said Jamieson ; and he led 
 Mortimer into his study. 
 
 ' Be seated,' said Jamieson. 
 
 ' No, sir ; I'll stand. Sir,' said Mortimer sternly, 
 ' you owe me an apology.' 
 
 'D.oI?' 
 
 ' You do.' 
 
 ' I apologise, then,' said Jamieson pleasantly. 
 
 Mortimer was overwhelmed. ' How ! ' he cried. 
 ' For what do you apologise ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know,' said Jamieson. 
 
 ' Sit down, sir,' said Mortimer. ' Sit down. I 
 want to talk to you.' 
 
 ' It was for that I brought you here.' 
 
 ' For what ? ' 
 
 ' To have you talk to me.' 
 
 ' Oh, wait till you hear what I've got to say ! ' 
 
 Mortimer leaned back and stretched his legs out. 
 Resting his right heel upon his left toe, he swayed 
 his feet from side to side, and began his speech. 
 
 ' Mr. Jamieson,' he said, with a slight frown, ' the 
 promptness of your apology has disarmed me. Still, 
 it is necessary that you should know for what you
 
 20 PERFERVID 
 
 have apologised. You have apologised for six 
 things : first, for being called Ninian ; second, for 
 being called Jamieson ; third, for being Provost of 
 Mintern ; fourth, for being a diamond-maker ; fifth, 
 for laughing at me ; sixth, for not telling me at 
 once in the train that you were Ninian Jamieson, 
 Provost of Mintern, and diamond-maker. Now, do 
 you adhere to your apology ? ' 
 
 ' I do,' said Jamieson. ' I apologise for each and 
 all of these things.' 
 
 Mortimer was dissatisfied. An apology to be 
 thoroughly enjoyed must be drawn like a tooth. It 
 must be forthcoming only to invincible argument, or 
 the dread of a horsewhip. To fling an apology in 
 one's face is to repeat the insult in an intensified 
 form. Mortimer knew that he himself would not 
 apologise in such an off-hand way as Jamieson had 
 done except to some one whom he regarded as of 
 no account. He dreaded nothing more than sleeve- 
 laughter, and he thought he heard the little fiend 
 chuckling at Jamieson's right cuff. He was endeavour- 
 ing to hit on some subtle expression which might 
 open up the whole question again without seeming 
 to do so, in order to test Jamieson's sincerity, when 
 the latter laid before him a new aspect of the matter. 
 
 ' And now,' he said, ' suppose you apologise to me.'
 
 THEORIES! THEORIES! 21 
 
 ' What ! ' cried Mortimer, springing to his feet. 
 
 1 There's no need for these explosions,' said Jamie- 
 son. ' I want you to talk to me, not to bellow at 
 me. Sit down. Yes,' continued Jamieson ; ' it has 
 occurred to me that you might wish to express regret 
 for having slandered a man whom you knew nothing 
 about.' 
 
 ' To what do you refer ? ' asked Mortimer 
 judicially. 
 
 ' I refer,' said Jamieson, with his bland smile, 
 'to your detraction of myself.' 
 
 ' I deny the detraction.' 
 
 Mortimer leaned back in his chair, built up his 
 feet again, and prepared to discuss. 
 
 ' Explain yourself,' said Jamieson. 
 
 ' I said you were eccentric : you are. I alleged 
 that Jamieson was a provostal name : I repeat the 
 allegation. I asserted that you weren't a great 
 man : I reassert it. I insisted that a diamond- 
 maker couldn't be a great man, and I stand to it. 
 I described your appearance wrongly, but on your 
 assuring me of that I immediately withdrew my 
 description. I summed up by explaining to you 
 that you were a freak of Nature, or one of Fate's 
 mistakes — possibly a mixture of both ; and I will 
 defend these positions with my last breath.'
 
 22 PERFERVID 
 
 ' That's very good,' said Jamieson, laughing. 
 
 Mortimer was more dissatisfied than ever. He 
 felt convinced that Jamieson was not taking him 
 seriously. He had been slow to admit it, although 
 the idea had been present from the beginning of 
 his intercourse with the Provost. Now he deter- 
 mined to bring it to an issue. 
 
 ' What do you think of me ?' he asked bluntly. 
 
 Jamieson looked at him for half a minute and 
 then said, ' I think you'll do very well.' 
 
 ' Do ! — do what ? ' 
 
 ' I'll tell you after lunch.' 
 
 ' But I'll not stay to lunch,' said Mortimer 
 stoutly. 'You're a bully, sir, I see, as well as an 
 eccentric, and you're a young man, and you seem 
 to be accustomed to have your way here. Doubt- 
 less you're cock of the walk in Mintern, but you'll 
 not crow over me.' 
 
 The Provost rose and put his back against the 
 door. 
 
 ' Have you business in Mintern ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' Business ! ' cried Mortimer. ' Sir, I'm a gentle- 
 man.' 
 
 ' Then you're here on pleasure ? ' 
 
 ' No, sir. I'm here to fish.' 
 
 ' As a duty ? ' queried the Provost.
 
 THEORIES ! THEORIES ! 23 
 
 ' No ; as sport,' said Mortimer. ' Sport, pleasure, 
 duty, are three distinct things.' 
 
 ' Then you'll stay with me as long as you are 
 in Mintern,' said the Provost. At the same time 
 he took down a huge broadsword that hung beside 
 the door, and flourished it about Mortimer's head. 
 Mortimer winked and drew in his breath, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 ' John,' said the Provost, opening the door, 
 ' take Mr. Mortimer's portmanteaus to the blue- 
 room.'
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE * DUNMYATT WHISKY ' 
 
 LUNCH was served in a hall containing a long table, 
 at the head of which was a dais. Here Jamieson 
 and Mortimer sat, while the servants, having set the 
 dishes, took their places beneath the salt. Before 
 each was a good-sized wooden bowl or cog, contain- 
 ing porridge, a smaller cog with milk, and a horn 
 spoon of very unfashionable dimensions. As soon 
 as Jamieson had taken a first spoonful all the servants 
 began to sup without ceremony. Mortimer, who had 
 no particular relish for porridge, devoured cogs and 
 spoons, master and servants, with his eyes. 
 
 ' Fa' tae, man,' said Jamieson. 
 
 ' What ? ' cried Mortimer. 
 
 He knew the Scotch dialect well enough, but was 
 so unprepared for it that, although he heard the 
 words distinctly, he had no sense of their meaning. 
 
 ' Don't you like porridge ? ' asked Jamieson.
 
 THE 'DUNMYATT WHISKY' 25 
 
 Mortimer determined that a warier conduct than 
 his had been for the last hour or two might be ad- 
 visable. The hall in which they were had quite the 
 appearance of an armoury, with targets and clay- 
 mores, blunderbusses and pistols, on all the walls. 
 He was beginning also to doubt the sanity of his 
 entertainer. So, while he would have preferred to 
 propound a theory regarding porridge which occurred 
 to him at the moment, he said, in answer to the 
 Provost's question, ' I like it very much indeed, but 
 I am so astonished at all I see that I'm afraid I've 
 lost my appetite.' 
 
 ' Try it,' said the Provost. ' We're noted for our 
 porridge here.' 
 
 Mortimer took one spoonful, and then another. 
 ' It's the best porridge I ever tasted,' he said with 
 genuine satisfaction. 4 It's very different,' he added 
 tautologically, ' from any porridge I've been accus- 
 tomed to.' 
 
 ' You mean the thick, raw, half-boiled stuff which 
 is thought to be the true Scotch dish ? ' 
 
 1 But is it not ? ' said Mortimer. 
 
 ' Well, I hardly know. I'm sorry if it is, for 1 
 can't take it. This is boiled for fully half an 
 hour with, as you see, lots of water. Isn't it, 
 cook ? '
 
 26 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Yes, sir,' answered a magnificent female, im- 
 mediately below the salt. 
 
 This concluded the conversation for the time. 
 Mortimer's spoon was as busy as those of the 
 others, and every cog stood empty almost at the 
 same instant. The wooden dishes were then re- 
 moved, and drinking horns with silver rims set in 
 their places. A pretty maid-servant took from an 
 aumry a large stone jug and a formidable glass. 
 Having curtsied to the Provost, who promptly rose 
 and kissed her, she filled the glass and poured it 
 into her master's horn. She seemed in doubt what 
 to do next, but Jamieson nodded towards Mortimer, 
 and she advanced and curtsied to him. He thrust 
 his chair from the table, placed his hands on his 
 knees with the backs of them downward, squaring 
 his elbows, and stared the girl out of countenance. 
 
 ' Everything here,' said the Provost, who was not 
 quite well pleased, ' is as innocent and wholesome as 
 the porridge.' 
 
 ' I know, I know ! ' cried Mortimer. ' I'm only 
 admiring.' 
 
 He rose with awkward ceremony. His face had 
 resolved into such a ludicrous expression of beati- 
 fication that the girl blushed and smothered a laugh 
 as he kissed her. Then she filled a glass into his
 
 THE ' DUNMYATT WHISKY ' 
 
 27 
 
 horn, and set the jug at the cook's right hand. The 
 cook took half a glass and passed the jug to the 
 coachman, who dealt himself full measure, and so it 
 
 went round the servants, the maids and a boy in 
 buttons taking a half, and the men a whole glass. 
 The Provost drank first, and after him all the 
 servants. Mortimer thought by the bouquet and
 
 28 PERFERVID 
 
 the dark colour that the beverage was whisky which 
 had been kept in sherry-wood. He liked whisky 
 well enough, but he had always regarded the drink- 
 ing of neat spirits as a habit vulgar and depraved ; 
 and, forgetting his late resolution, was about to 
 attack the custom in his most dogmatic and diffuse 
 manner when Jamieson said, ' Drink it, man. It's 
 a hundred years old.' 
 
 ' Might I not have a little water ? ' suggested 
 Mortimer. 
 
 ' A single drop of water spoils it. Doesn't it, 
 cook ? ' said the Provost. 
 
 ' It does indeed, sir,' answered the cook deferen- 
 tially, but with undeniable enthusiasm. 
 
 Seeing no help for it, Mortimer put the horn to 
 his mouth and drank it off. The effect was in- 
 stantaneous. 
 
 ' By Jove ! ' he cried, ' that's very fine. As you 
 say, a single drop of water would altogether dis- 
 organise this whisky. I perceive five flavours in it. 
 First of all there is the flavour of maturity ; secondly, 
 there still remains a perceptible, a barely perceptible 
 breath of the peat-reek ; thirdly, there is a sub- 
 dued dash of the wood in which it has been kept ; 
 fourthly, a distinct aroma of the sherry which 
 preceded it in the wood ; fifthly, and lastly, and
 
 THE 'DUNMYATT WHISKY' 29 
 
 probably principally, I carried to the horn the sweet 
 freshness of your maid -servant's rosy cheek. Sir, 
 this whisky has a creamy consistence, a mellowness 
 as of ripe fruit — and yet there is a grasp in it, an 
 appeal, a penetrating virtuosity, a pervasive subtlety, 
 that defies further definition.' 
 
 ' You've made mistakes,' said Jamicson. ' There's 
 no flavour of sherry, but there's something else.' 
 
 ' Let me sec,' said Mortimer. ' Ah ! I think I 
 know. Stolen sweets ? ' 
 
 ' Right,' replied Jamieson. ' It has the air of the 
 Ochils about it, and never paid duty.' 
 
 ' I was certain there was something escaping me,' 
 said Mortimer. ' I felt it while I was defining. 
 Doubtless the full definition would have occurred to 
 me without your suggestion after another glass of 
 the whisky.' 
 
 ' Doubtless,' said the Provost, rising. 
 
 Mortimer and the servants immediately followed 
 his example. The latter left the room one by one 
 in order of precedence, the maids first, beginning 
 with the cook, and they all bowed or curtsied at the 
 door as they withdrew. 
 
 ' Mary,' said the Provost, addressing the maid 
 who had served the whisk)-, ' take the jug and two 
 horns to the study.'
 
 30 PERFERVID 
 
 1 Sir,' said Mortimer, when they had returned to 
 the Provost's sanctum, ' half an hour ago you pro- 
 mised to tell me in this room what you think of me. 
 Before you do so I should like to hear the history of 
 this liquor. For the moment it interests me more 
 than my own personality.' 
 
 ' Certainly ; because I cannot tell you the one 
 without the other.' 
 
 ' That is very remarkable,' said Mortimer. ' There 
 can be no doubt that you are eccentric. Elements 
 of greatness there may be, but eccentric you are in 
 the highest degree. Could you give me a short 
 sketch of your life ? I am no idle gossip, but deeply 
 in earnest. I search for the theory that underlies 
 the phenomena of existence.' 
 
 ' In order to give you the history of this whisky, 
 in order to give you my opinion of yourself, it is 
 necessary that you should have a short account of 
 my life.' 
 
 ' I thank heaven that I have met you, sir,' said 
 Mortimer. ' You are like a skeleton-clock : theory 
 is visible through every transparent circumstance of 
 your life, and every circumstance of your life seems 
 to be transparent.' 
 
 'You shall judge,' said Jamieson. 'My father 
 kept a shop in M intern. He was a grocer.'
 
 THE ' DUNMYATT WHISKY ' 31 
 
 'Ha! you are a grocer's son, then ! ' cried 
 Mortimer. 
 
 1 Quite so ; a licensed grocer's son. He had a 
 respectable business, and lived comfortably. I was 
 his only child, and got so much of my own way that 
 by the age of ten I governed my parents absolutely. 
 I had two passions common to boys — novel-reading 
 and exploring. Look here ! ' 
 
 The Provost showed Mortimer a room opening 
 off the study. Mortimer entered it, and found the 
 walls shelved from floor to ceiling, and each shelf 
 packed with books. When they resumed their scats 
 Jamieson sat musing for a minute or two, and 
 Mortimer looked about the room, observing it more 
 carefully than he had yet done. Deerskins almost 
 covered the floor ; an oaken writing-table occupied 
 the window recess ; the ceiling was of oak ; old oak 
 chairs, and new ones in imitation of the old, stood 
 against the walls, which were covered with long- 
 bows, cross-bows, halberts, Andrea Ferraras, clay- 
 mores, targets, horse-pistols, and some old pictures. 
 Two suits of armour stood in corners. There were 
 only a few books ; these were bound in calf, and 
 stood on two carved oak shelves beside the carved 
 oak mantelpiece. They were all Scotch, and 
 included The Talcs of a Grandfather, Urummond's
 
 32 PERFERVID 
 
 Five Jameses, and Bellcnden's Translation of 
 Boece. 
 
 ' There are two thousand novels in that room,' 
 said Jamieson, rousing himself from his brown study, 
 and interrupting Mortimer's inventory, ' all which I 
 had read before I was eighteen. At that age I 
 stopped novels, and haven't opened one since. So 
 much for one passion. The other continues un- 
 abated ; and I have been all over Europe, not in 
 trains, but on my feet, or on horseback. At the age 
 of ten, of course, my explorations were confined to 
 the neighbourhood of Mintern. Within a radius of 
 twenty miles I knew every village, every ruin, every 
 glen, every loch, and had climbed all the highest 
 hills. From Benchonzie to Dunmyatt, from Moredun 
 Top to Ben Ledi I rambled at will. In the summer 
 I was often away from home for days together, 
 sometimes sleeping in a haystack ; but as a rule I 
 had money to pay for a bed. At the outset of my 
 travels I preferred the Ochils to the Grampians, and 
 delighted especially to climb Dunmyatt. One 
 morning shortly after I had turned my twelfth 
 year ' 
 
 ' I beg you to observe, Mr. Jamieson,' said Mor- 
 timer, who thought he noticed a gradual assumption 
 of distinction in the style of the narrative, and in
 
 Till: DUNMYATT WHISKY' 33 
 
 the attitude of the narrator, ' that all this points only 
 to eccentricity ; not by any means to greatness.' 
 
 ' Be that as it may,' said Jamieson, with his bland 
 smile, ' on this particular morning a great desire to 
 get to the top of Dunmyatt overtook me on my way 
 to school. I threw my books over a wall and set 
 off. Had I gone home I could easily have per- 
 suaded my parents to let me have a holiday, but, 
 however certain of victory, I always hated argument, 
 and avoided it in those days, and for years after, no 
 matter at what cost to others. The distance from 
 Mintern to the western end of the Ochils is twelve 
 miles, so that it was one o'clock before I arrived at 
 a farm at the foot of Dunmyatt where I was known. 
 I got dinner there, and in an hour after, the ascent 
 being very easy, I was on the top of the hill. I had, 
 of course, a novel with me — I never went anywhere 
 at that time, school, bed, or church, without one — 
 and read it through before I thought of descending. 
 I went down the south side of the hill, intending to 
 go to Blairlogie, a small village at the foot of Dun- 
 myatt. I knew an old woman there with whom I 
 meant to take tea. On the way I turned aside to 
 have another look at an old copper-mine, which 1 
 had examined repeatedly, always in the hope of 
 finding an entrance and a hidden treasure. This 
 
 D
 
 34 PERFERVID 
 
 time I determined to make a thorough search. I 
 attacked with vigour a considerable excavation — one 
 of several dug by myself on former visits — making 
 use of a rusty shovel left there doubtless by some 
 previous explorer. I worked at such a rate that in 
 five minutes I was out of breath, and had to rest. 
 Leaning on the shovel I looked up the hillside, and 
 saw the entrance to a small cave which I had often 
 examined, but had never thought of connecting with 
 the mine. That idea occurred to me forcibly there 
 and then, and I went up, shovel in hand. When I 
 had dug about a foot into the floor of the cave I 
 struck wood. Excitement increased my strength, 
 and in a little while I had uncovered a lid about 
 four feet square. One side of it rested on what 
 proved to be a wooden slide into the mine ; the 
 other three sides rested on the rock. On lifting off 
 the lid my heart gave a great bound. I saw a 
 round hole three feet in diameter, and the top of an 
 inclined plane — the way I had no doubt to fabulous 
 adventures. With scarcely a moment's hesitation I 
 stepped in, and lying face downwards on the slide, 
 which was two and a half feet broad, I clutched the 
 sides of it and began to descend. I found the slope 
 so gentle, however, that progress in that way was 
 not only laborious but unnecessary. I therefore got
 
 THE " DUNMYATT \\ HISKY 1 35 
 
 to my feet, and going back to the entrance took my 
 shovel. Pressing it in my right hand against the 
 side of the plane to guide me, I walked boldly down, 
 counting my steps after the approved fashion in such 
 adventures : thirty of my steps ended the descent. 
 My eyes had already accustomed themselves to the 
 semi-darkness, and I beheld an array of little barrels 
 which I at once concluded would be full of jewels 
 and ancient, or at least, foreign, gold and silver 
 coins, with a Little bullion. I searched about hoping 
 to find an old hammer, or something with which to 
 break open one of the barrels, but as the mine had 
 not been worked for a great many years there were 
 few traces of its origin, and nothing at all in the 
 shape of a hammer. I was forced to use the shovel, 
 my knife, and at last my foot. The shovel broke, 
 the blade of my knife snapped off, and in despair 1 
 brought my heel down on the bung of the barrel 1 
 had attacked. Once, twice, and the third time it 
 gave way, and I was splashed with whisk}- ! I cried 
 with disgust and vexation. All the barrels were of 
 the same pattern, and I judged, correctly, of the 
 same contents. My first adventure, which a few 
 minutes before had promised to my imagination a 
 whole Arabia of wonder, to end in a few whisky- 
 barrels ! I rushed up the slide, striking my head
 
 36 PERFERVID 
 
 rather severely against the rock as I approached the 
 exit, and, without making any attempt to conceal 
 what I had done, went down to Blairlogie. The old 
 woman gave me tea, after which I lay down on the 
 sofa in her parlour and slept till daybreak. I ate 
 some bread and left the house without wakening my 
 hostess. Being now quite good-humoured about my 
 adventure, I climbed to the cave, and going into the 
 mine, counted the barrels : there were fifty of them. 
 I then covered the entrance with care and walked 
 over the hill to Mintern, where I arrived shortly 
 before breakfast. My father wouldn't at first believe 
 my story, but I was so positive that he went to 
 Dunmyatt with me next day. On the road home, 
 the truth of my discovery having been established, 
 my father was very meditative. About half-way he 
 asked me if I had told anybody except himself. 
 This I had not done ; and I remember distinctly, 
 having assured my father that he was my only con- 
 fidant, with what curiosity I watched his face for the 
 rest of the way. A melancholy smile played over 
 it. Beginning in a slight frown, it stole into his 
 eyes, expanded his nostrils, and went out in a twitch- 
 ing of his upper lip. He had the reputation of 
 
 being eccentric ' 
 
 ' What was his first name ? '
 
 I HE ' DUNMYATT WHISKY' 37 
 
 The Provost started, for he had forgotten Mor- 
 timer's presence, and a smile like that he had de- 
 scribed flitted across his face. 
 
 'William James,' he answered. 
 
 'William James Jamieson ! ' cried Mortimer. 
 'Eccentric! I should think so! William James, 
 Jean Jacques, Jean Paul ! You see, double 
 Christian names of that kind always denote eccen- 
 tricity.' 
 
 ' Your theory seems to have some foundation,' 
 said Jamieson, and was about to continue his nar- 
 rative, but Mortimer had caught fire. 
 
 ' Some foundation ! ' he cried. ' Its basis is the 
 law of heredity. No one except an eccentric 
 person will give an eccentric name. Some founda- 
 tion ! Why, you find it everywhere ! Ay, even in 
 the Bible ; although I believe most exceptions are 
 to be found among Biblical names, especially in 
 antediluvian times. Still, look at Methuselah ! Do 
 you think he wasn't eccentric ? Do you think a 
 man who lived for nine hundred and sixty-nine 
 years wasn't eccentric ? Do you think his father 
 wasn't eccentric ? Why, Enoch was one of the 
 most eccentric men who ever lived, because he was 
 one of the best, and he didn't die. Look at Adam ! 
 Do you think he wasn't eccentric? and Eve too?
 
 ^8 PERFERVID 
 
 j 
 
 Man, they must have been eccentric. Do you 
 know, I'm beginning to think that everybody and 
 every name is eccentric. Because, don't you see, if 
 the names which are eccentric at present were com- 
 mon, then the common names would be eccentric. 
 That, however, would do away with greatness alto- 
 gether.' 
 
 ' No doubt,' said Jamieson, laughing. ' But you 
 must let me get on with my story.' 
 
 ' What are you laughing at ? ' cried Mortimer. 
 ' Do you think I'm a fool ? ' 
 
 ' Have patience,' said Jamieson, ' I'm coming to 
 that. But you will require to hear the whole his- 
 tory of my life before you will be in a position to 
 know what I think of you. — My father had formed 
 a plan on the way home from Dunmyatt. He took 
 a house at once in Blairlogie, and we went there for 
 the summer. He drove to Mintern every morning, 
 carrying with him sometimes one, sometimes two of 
 the barrels ; and in less than two months he had 
 transferred them all, not to his shop, but to this 
 house, which he had recently bought, and which was 
 then only a third of its present size. He sent 
 samples of the whisky to analysts and doctors, and 
 the gentry in the neighbourhood ; got it noticed in 
 the Lancet, and advertised it widely. It soon had a
 
 THE ' DUNMYATT WHISKY ' 39 
 
 great sale, and he made lots of money. I was 
 
 twelve when I found the barrels, and my father died 
 when I was twenty-six. During these fourteen 
 years the " Dunmyatt Whisky " was sold by the 
 hogshead every day. Once or twice I wondered 
 how my father kept up the supply, but it didn't 
 concern me much, and I never asked him. He in- 
 vested his money as he made it, and he was always 
 lucky. My mother and he died within a few weeks 
 of each other, and I was left with £150,000. On 
 his death-bed my father said very little, and passed 
 away with a smile exactly like that which had in- 
 terested me fourteen years before on the way home 
 from Dunmyatt : a scarcely perceptible contraction 
 of the brows ; a faint gleam in the eye, half comic, 
 half pathetic ; and a slight curl of the lip which 
 death undid the moment it appeared.' 
 
 Here Jamieson paused, staring at the toes of his 
 boots, and Mortimer felt constrained to cough and 
 to replenish his glass. 
 
 'Mr. Jamieson,' said .Mortimer, wiping his mouth 
 and flecking his eyes with his handkerchief, ' let me 
 congratulate you on this distinct exhibition of great- 
 ness. It may be in a small matter — most people 
 have to lose their fathers — but an inferior man 
 would have flaunted his sorrow with a "He was a
 
 40 PERFERVID 
 
 good father to me ; I wish I had been a better son," 
 or something of that kind, fishing for the approbation 
 of his auditor. Now, you ' 
 
 ' Be quiet ! ' cried Jamieson, flashing out in a tone 
 and a look which astonished Mortimer. ' Keep your 
 dilettantism for suitable subjects.' 
 
 Mortimer gulped his whisky in alarm ; but Jamie- 
 s< m had resumed the contemplation of his boots. 
 Two minutes of great uneasiness followed this out- 
 burst, and then the Provost looked up with his bland 
 smile. He said nothing, however, and Mortimer 
 broke the silence. 
 
 ' Did you ever find,' he asked, ' how your father 
 kept the whisky going ? ' 
 
 1 I shall tell you what I found,' said Jamieson. 
 ' I found a key in my father's desk with this written 
 on the label — 
 
 •■" In a cellar numbered two 
 
 You'll find the source of all my wealth. 
 I am dead but, Ninian, you 
 
 Still may drink my soul's good health." 
 
 In the cellar I found forty barrels of the " Dunmyatt 
 Whisky " unbroached.' 
 
 ' Where had he got them ? ' 
 
 ' They were the original barrels intact. He had 
 used ten of them in preparing samples, and kept the
 
 THE ' DUNM V ATT Will S K Y ' 41 
 
 other fort)-. What he sold was a judicious blend of 
 quite modern distillation.' 
 
 'How very like William James Jamicson ! ' ex- 
 claimed Mortimer. 
 
 ' Once a week we have a porridge lunch with a 
 taste of the whisk)'. We never drink it on any other 
 occasion except on my father's birthday, as I wish 
 to make it last as long as possible.' 
 
 ' Mr. Jamicson, have you ever reposed this con- 
 fidence in another ? ' 
 
 'No, you are the first man I've told.' 
 
 ' Then,' said Mr. Mortimer complacently, ' I can 
 in some measure gather what your opinion of me 
 is.' 
 
 But the Provost only smiled like his father. 
 
 ' And I may also conclude something from the 
 fact that you have departed in my favour from your 
 custom as regards the " Dunmyatt Whisky," said 
 Mortimer, helping himself again. 
 
 This remark also elicited only a smile. 
 
 ' Do you know anything of the history of this 
 whisky prior to your finding it ? ' asked Mortimer. 
 
 ' Nothing whatever,' said Jamicson. ' My father, 
 I believe, made indirect inquiries, but without result. 
 You can understand how he couldn't investigate the 
 matter thoroughly.'
 
 42 PERFERVID 
 
 'Quite,' said Mortimer. 'But have you done 
 nothing ? ' 
 
 ' Nothing ; it doesn't interest me in the least.' 
 
 ' By the bye, what led you to become Provost of 
 Mintern ?' 
 
 ' That's very simple. Some months after the 
 death of my father, the provostship falling vacant, I 
 was asked to join the council in order to be elected 
 to that office. The good people were so dazzled 
 with the fortune my father had left that they would, 
 I believe, have made me absolute monarch of the 
 world had it rested with them.' 
 
 ' And what made you stop reading novels ? ' asked 
 Mortimer. 
 
 ' That's just the point where I intend to resume 
 my story,' said Jamicson. ' I gave up novels because 
 I had begun to read history — Scotch history. It 
 was Scott's Tales of a Grandfather that started me ; 
 but I soon had a very particular reason for con- 
 tinuing the study. You must know that when 
 the Chevalier de St. George, otherwise James III 
 of England and VIII of Scotland, was in this 
 country in 171 5 he married privately Marjory 
 Morton, the daughter of the Laird of Tullibolton. 
 Shortly after James left this country his wife died in 
 giving birth to a son. Sheriffmuir had destroyed the
 
 THE " DUNMYATT \\ HISKY ' 43 
 
 Jacobite hopes of Morton of Tullibolton, and he 
 became a staunch supporter of the Guelf dynasty. 
 He called his grandson James Jamieson, and gave 
 him to a farmer to rear. When the boy grew up 
 
 he received a farm on the estate of Tullibolton, and 
 was generally considered an illegitimate son of the 
 laird's. He didn't care for farming, however, and 
 joined a foot regiment ; and it is said that he fought 
 against his step-brother, Prince Charles Edward, at 
 Culloden.' 
 
 ' Sir,' said Mortimer, ' I have read a little Scotch 
 history, but I don't remember a word of all 
 this.' 
 
 1 There is no printed record of it,' said Jamieson, 
 ' but I have documents to prove its truth, and you 
 shall sec them. Let me finish the story first. James 
 Jamieson returned to Tullibolton in his fortieth 
 year, and married a ploughman's daughter. Morton 
 had been dead for some time, but he had left 
 Jamieson a farm, which he had bought for that 
 purpose, his estate being entailed. In the beginning 
 of this century James Jamieson's great-great-grand- 
 son, my great-grandfather, sold the farm and removed 
 to Mintern, where he began the business which my 
 father inherited. Perhaps, since you have some 
 acquaintance with Scotch history, you may remember
 
 44 PERFERVID 
 
 that the so-called direct line of the Stuart race 
 terminated in the Cardinal Frascati, who called him- 
 self Henry IX. By his death in 1807 the true 
 direct line was left without a rival ; and as I am the 
 sole representative of that branch, I am legitimately, 
 and by divine right, Xinian I., King of Great 
 Britain, France, and Ireland.' 
 
 Mortimer sat up in his chair and stared at the 
 Provost. He was now convinced of his insanity ; 
 and Jamicson's serenity, after making such an 
 astounding announcement, was, in Mortimer's mind, 
 confirmation enough of the fact, had it needed 
 any. 
 
 ' You will now understand,' continued the Provost, 
 assuming unconsciously a lordlier tone, ' the nature 
 of my interest in Scotch history. It was an exceed- 
 ingly opportune event in my life, the discovery at 
 the age of eighteen of my rank and title ; for, as 
 the result of my novel reading, I was the prey of 
 a morbid ambition. I burned with a desire to 
 distinguish myself in some heroic but unheard-of 
 way. What appeared to me the utter paltriness of 
 all possible careers, combined with my failure to 
 conceive of one hitherto impossible, but which would 
 open a path to my genius, drove me mad for a short 
 time. My father had with reluctance determined to
 
 THE ' DUNMYATT WHISKY ' 45 
 
 remove me to an asylum, when I suddenly regained 
 my sanity. It was the accidental discovery of the 
 facts which I have briefly narrated to you that 
 brought back my scattered senses.' 
 
 ' How did you make the discovery ? ' asked 
 Mortimer. 
 
 ' I do not intend to enter on that just now,' said 
 Jamieson. ' On some future occasion I may perhaps 
 satisfy your curiosity. That the facts are true you 
 need have no doubt : I give you my word. Some- 
 time I will show you the documents. For more 
 than a year the mere knowledge of who I was 
 satisfied my ambition, and the study of the lives of 
 my ancestors occupied my time. Then 1 gave myself 
 up to dreams of sovereignty, leaping over entirely 
 the period of struggle. The mental strain of this 
 continuous dream — for it was with me day and 
 night — produced a time of extreme lassitude, during 
 which I made my first tour on the continent. After 
 my return the dream was in abeyance for more than 
 a year, but it seized me again with a shock like the 
 recollection of an unfulfilled duty ; such, indeed, it 
 had become to me. I shirked it, however, and went 
 back to the continent, where I managed to smother 
 my aspirations — my true self — for a time ; but only 
 for a time. I remember it was in Bucharest that
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 my destiny again laid hold of me. I had been 
 gambling a little. Tired of the sordid excitement 
 I went up to the top of the house. The sun was 
 sinking in the plain, and its last rays shed a lustre 
 over the many -coloured roofs of the broad city, 
 embowered in its gardens. The towers and domes 
 of its hundred churches glowed and flashed like 
 inlaid blades and shields. The narrow tortuous 
 streets wound like serpents, bright with the hues of 
 the robes and rags of the crowds that filled them. 
 It was fair-time at Giurgevo, the port of Bucharest, 
 and hundreds of people from every nation in Asia 
 mingled with the inhabitants. Whether it was the 
 spires and domes that recalled to me our targets 
 and claymores, or the rainbow-coloured crowds that 
 reminded me of the tartans, I w r as not sufficiently 
 self-conscious at the time to observe, but there leapt 
 out on the sky a vision of the battle of Culloden. 
 The shrieks, shouts, laughter, and outlandish music 
 ascending from the streets mingled with the vision. 
 I watched it long, and it vanished only when I began 
 unwittingly to recite Aytoun's ballad — 
 
 ' " Chief and vassal, lord and yeoman, there they lie in heaps 
 together, 
 Smitten by the deadly volley, rolled in blood upon the 
 heather ;
 
 THE - DUNMYATT WHISKY ' 47 
 
 And the Hanoverian horsemen, fiercely riding to and 
 
 fro, 
 Deal their murderous strokes at random. . . . Woe is 
 
 me ! where am I now ? " 
 
 ■ I had no sleep that night, and next morning I 
 started for Scotland. All the way home scheme 
 after scheme chased each other through my head. 
 At one time I determined to enter Parliament and 
 proceed in a constitutional manner. It seemed to 
 me a very simple thing to form a party, principally 
 in the House of Lords, and to mature it for my reign. 
 " The lords," I said to myself, " are not nearly alive 
 to the splendid position in which they now are. One 
 or two of them seem to have grasped it, but they 
 wish to keep it to themselves in order that they may 
 had. Nothing can ever be done in that way. The 
 whole body of the aristocracy must lead the nation ; 
 they must not allow themselves tamely to be swamped 
 by capital. Their reply to those who want to tamper 
 with land must be a demand for the redistribution of 
 capital. Let them go to the people with that, and 
 there will be no more tinkering at the Upper Chamber 
 for a hundred years to come." You see I thoroughly 
 understood the true method of constitutional govern- 
 ment : to pit class against class in the bitterest Ccuil. 
 It's as old as Caius Gracchus, and older. Well,
 
 48 PERFERVID 
 
 having organised a strong party among the lords, 
 I should have waited until I became prime minister ; 
 then, heading a revolution prepared by myself, I 
 should have seized the crown. Another plan was to 
 enter the army and, having obtained a position of 
 power, to rebel, but this did not seem so certain a 
 way as the other. Sometimes I thought to further 
 my design chiefly through the press, by starting a 
 Jacobite newspaper or magazine. There was besides 
 a very simple plan which commended itself to me 
 for a brief space : to state to Britain in a modest 
 address who I was, and that I had abandoned the 
 legend of my family and was quite prepared to 
 govern exactly as the nation required. By the time 
 I got home my excitement had produced brain-fever, 
 and when I recovered, although thoroughly conscious 
 of who I was, a whole year of contentment followed. 
 Then I began to read Carlyle, and I have had no 
 rest since the day I opened Heroes and Hero-worsliip. 
 I feel in myself the power to govern Britain as it has 
 never been governed. I have the strength, if I can 
 wrench from fate the opportunity, to weld togethcr 
 the English-speaking nations ; to make New York 
 the capital of a Britain greater than Dilke's ; to 
 shake the Russian empire to pieces, like an ill-made 
 garment, the work of sweaters ; to plant the cross in
 
 THE 'DUNMYATT WHISKY' 49 
 
 Constantinople ; to people Africa ; to open China ; 
 to dictate to the world. I fought with myself; I tried 
 to learn Greek ; I tried to paint ; I read biographies 
 in the hope of being attracted by some other career 
 than that of a claimant to the throne of Britain. 
 The life of Benvenuto Cellini charmed me, and I 
 began to work in metals. Here is the sole result.' 
 
 Jamieson opened a drawer in his writing-table 
 and handed Mortimer a small leather case. Mortimer 
 took from it a roughly-made medal, on the face of 
 which was a likeness of the Provost with the words 
 ' Ninianus Primus, Britanniae Rex, F. D. ' ; and 
 on the reverse, the royal arms with ' GRATIA DEI, 
 Sed Non Voluntate Hominum.' 
 
 Said Mortimer, who had recovered from his 
 astonishment, and was in his most critical mood, 
 ' Did you make this while your father was alive ? ' 
 
 'Yes,' said Jamieson. 
 
 ' Then you were only Prince of Wales at that 
 time.' 
 
 'True,' said Jamieson; 'but I tested my father 
 often in many indirect ways, and found that he knew 
 nothing of his rank. Of course, had I achieved my 
 object in his lifetime, I would have made him king. 
 Well, when I was elected Provost the old idea of 
 entering Parliament returned, so I set about making 
 
 E
 
 50 PERFERVID 
 
 myself popular, an object I attained. I have also 
 managed to keep the people at a distance, chiefly by 
 never appearing in the streets except in my carriage.' 
 
 ' Admirable ! ' burst out Mortimer. ' I see theory 
 there. But go on.' 
 
 ' The news of the making of diamonds in Glasgow 
 modified my plans. Fifty diamonds worth £100,000 
 each would be £5,000,000. With such a capital one 
 might become anything. I fitted up a laboratory, 
 and after working for two years succeeded yesterday 
 in producing two diamonds.' 
 
 Jamieson took from his vest-pocket a pill -box 
 and handed it to Mortimer. 
 
 ' In my excitement,' continued the Provost, ' I 
 told the correspondent of the Scotsman, and he com- 
 municated the news to his paper. But at night I 
 submitted one of the diamonds to a greater pressure 
 than I had at first employed, and it was crushed to a 
 j taste ; you see it there in the box. The other one 
 looks all right, but it is soft at the core. You can 
 imagine how chagrined I was. The last train had 
 left hours before I made the hideous discovery. I 
 hired a cab and four horses and drove to Edinburgh, 
 but I was too late to prevent the appearance of my 
 over-hasty communication.' 
 
 ' Why didn't you telegraph ? '
 
 I hi; ' DUNMYATT WHISKY ■ 51 
 
 ' I couldn't ; it would have been known far and 
 wide in M intern next da)-. The reporter I bribed, 
 but I couldn't bribe the postmaster, and he is one of 
 my principal enemies in the town, and the telegram 
 at that time of night could not have been despatched 
 without his cognisance. On my road to the train 
 this morning I resolved to beat no more about the 
 bush, but to throw everything else aside and make 
 a dash for the crown. I forgot my chagrin the 
 moment my resolution was taken ; and the reception 
 I had at the station showed me the necessity of 
 leaving M in tern at once. I understand popularity 
 sufficiently to know that when the people learn that 
 they have been, as they will say, " hoaxed," no 
 explanation will satisfy them, and they will despise 
 me because of their own absurd conduct of to-day. 
 My chance of the membership is gone ; besides, 1 
 till you frankly, I couldn't stand the nods and winks 
 and grins that would meet me everywhere.' 
 
 ' But why not go on with your diamonds, and 
 make them as hard-hearted as they need to be ? ' 
 
 'I don't think it's possible; and I couldn't repeat 
 the process, for it was as much chance as good 
 guiding that produced these miserable spongy sparks. 
 And then I'm tired of waiting and dreaming. I 
 must act.'
 
 52 PERFERYID 
 
 The Provost rose, and marched up and down the 
 room with long strides, erect head, and flaming eyes. 
 
 ' And now,' said Mortimer, ' what has all this got 
 to do with your opinion of me ? ' 
 
 'Ah!' replied the Provost, resuming his seat, 'I 
 had forgotten that. When you came into the train 
 with your funny little fat body, and short squint 
 legs, and your staring red hair, and round goggle 
 eyes, iooking as important as all the Mintern town- 
 councillors rolled into one, something whispered to 
 me that we would be better acquainted ; and when 
 you began to talk I saw at once how it was to be. 
 You must know that when I am king I intend 
 to revive many of the customs of the feudal 
 monarchs ; and it occurred to me to start at once 
 by appointing you my court -jester, my fool. Yes,' 
 continued the Provost, unabashed by the pallor 
 of Mortimer's face and the ruddy glare of his 
 eyes, ' all your speech and action, and the droll 
 reason for changing your name, mark you out as 
 well fitted for a professional fool. You little dreamt, 
 I expect, when you were cultivating your ridiculous 
 gestures, and developing your grotesque style of 
 speech — and it must have cost you some trouble — 
 that you were obeying that transcendent law which 
 is called Chance. You with your ardent desire to
 
 THE ' DUNMYATT WHISKY - 53 
 
 amuse your fcllowmcn, unappreciated hitherto, meet 
 me who have a kingly desire to be amused in my 
 moments of leisure by just that titillation of the 
 intellect which it is the aim of your life to produce. 
 You at once begin your fooling in your best form 
 without any introduction, and I at once appreciate 
 you at your full value. Chance may be the only term 
 for such meetings as ours, but let us understand 
 by Chance an occult phase of Destiny. I may tell 
 you that I admire you very much indeed.' 
 
 Mortimer was on his legs. His very hair had 
 turned pale ; his eyes were blood-shot, and a slight 
 foam oozed from his lips. He struck an heroic 
 attitude, his right foot advanced and his left hand 
 clenched at his side. With the forefinger of his 
 right hand rigidly extended he made violent stabs 
 at the Provost. 
 
 ' I have an annuity,' he cried, ' an annuity of 
 .£400. I am a man of education — of culture. I 
 have not read two thousand novels, nor addled my 
 brains with Scotch history ; but I have all the 
 common sense I was born with. I'm not six feet, 
 and straight, and black-eyed, but I have a sanguine 
 complexion, and I can tell you it is a complexion 
 much more capable of greatness than your passionate 
 bilious hue that burns to ashes in license and mad-
 
 54 PERFERVID 
 
 ness. I play the fool ! I have brains, sir, more 
 brains than body. You have body, sir, more body 
 than brains ; and I am king, and you are fool, by 
 all the laws — by all the laws ! It was exactly men 
 of your calibre that sank to court-jesters long ago — 
 men with more body and blood than brains and 
 sense. Your imagination has broken the halter ; 
 you can't be shod, sir ; you are incapable of any 
 serious undertaking, of any abstruse thinking. I 
 play a part ! I be anything else than myself ! I 
 tell you I have an annuity of ^400, and a house in 
 Edinburgh ; and I am forty and a bachelor. And I 
 do what I like, and I say what I like, and I go 
 where I like ; and I'm going now, sir. I want to 
 hear no more of your brain-sick humbug — your 
 porridge, and your watered whisky, and your kings, 
 and your ninnies, and your Ninianus. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 Niniamis primus — the prize ninny! Ha, ha, ha!' 
 
 ' That's only passable, Cosmo,' said the Provost, 
 ' only passable. You have strained yourself and 
 overdone it ; your assumed sincerity almost became 
 real. But you must be tired, Cosmo ; you have 
 done some very good fooling — quite sufficient for 
 one day. Don't make any effort. You have shown 
 most indubitable ability as a clown, and you may 
 rest on your oars, Cosmo. I'm going to call you
 
 THE 'DUNMYATT WHISKY' 55 
 
 Cosmo. It suits your profession admirably. Tri- 
 boulct, Chicot, Scogan, Bonny — Cosmo ; your name 
 is quite fit to come at the tail of these, and 1 
 believe you will make as good and loyal a fool 
 as any of them. And so, Cosmo, I have let you 
 know all about myself, because the great kings took 
 their fools into their confidence, and I will ask your 
 advice sometimes, as they did.' 
 
 Mortimer, who after his passionate speech had 
 sunk down exhausted, sprang to his feet again more 
 enraged than before. 
 
 'You misunderstand me wilfullv,' he cried. 'You 
 are a miserable farceur, and I despise you. I have 
 written for newspapers, and I'll put you into a sketch 
 with all your follies — by name, sir, by name ; and 
 you can summon me for libel and welcome. I'll libel 
 you ! I'll make you worse than you are ; I'll make 
 you the laughing-stock of Scotland — by name, sir, by 
 name. And I shall leave your hideous inaesthetic 
 house at once, sir ; and I shall expose it too, sir.' 
 
 ' Cosmo, Cosmo, take care,' said Jamieson, as one 
 would address a dog. intercepting Mortimer, who 
 moved toward the door. 
 
 ' I shall be bullied no longer,' screamed Mortimer. 
 Boiling with anger and whisky he snatched a claymore 
 from the wall and brandished it with unscientific
 
 56 PERFERVID 
 
 vigour. ' Make way there ! ' he cried, imitating to 
 the best of his ability some position which he had 
 seen on the stage. 
 
 Jamieson, with his back to the door, took down 
 the immense weapon which had already helped 
 Mortimer to make up his mind, and put himself 
 with almost as much awkwardness as his opponent 
 into an attitude of defence. The heavy broadsword 
 was quite pliable in Jamieson's hands; but Mortimer, 
 observing that he had no better idea of fencing than 
 himself, thought he saw his advantage. He lowered 
 his claymore, retired a few steps, and, although he 
 had difficulty in restraining himself, succeeded in 
 addressing the Provost with the gravity of a champion 
 about to engage in mortal combat. 
 
 ' I perceive,' he said, ' that you know nothing at 
 all about Pescrime. Now, when I was in Paris, I went 
 two or three times a week to the Bois de Boulogne, 
 and was invariably victorious. I have a cut which 
 is simply irresistible, thus,' and Mortimer placed him- 
 self in an agonising position, which he maintained with 
 difficulty for the space of three seconds, and went 
 through an involute series of curves and thrusts as if 
 he had been describing a lover's knot in the air. Re- 
 covering himself just in time to escape a fall he stuck 
 the point of his sword in a deer-skin, and resting his
 
 i he " dunmyatt whisky ' 57 
 
 left hand on his hip examined the effect of his per- 
 formance on the Provost. It was satisfactory, he 
 thought ; but he mistook what was merely vexation 
 for anxiety. The Provost was cursing that rest- 
 less indolence of his which had led him to dream 
 so much and wander so far, but had left him wholly 
 unacquainted with a necessary kingly accomplish- 
 ment. Mortimer imagined he was thinking out 
 some dignified method of withdrawing from the 
 quarrel. 
 
 ' So,' resumed the professed duellist, ' you had 
 better not insist on what can only end in bloodshed. 
 Let me go quietly, and ' 
 
 ' Come, Cosmo,' the Provost interrupted, under- 
 standing that Mortimer lied, ' let us try this deadly 
 cut.' 
 
 With that he advanced from the door, holding 
 the pommel of his broadsword against his breast, 
 the blade projecting six feet in front of him. 
 Mortimer made repeated slashes at it, but failed to 
 do more than sway it a little as Jamicson grasped 
 the hilt with both hands ; and when Mortimer tried 
 a flank movement the Provost wheeled his point into 
 position. Soon the little man was pinned against 
 the wall. 
 
 ' Now or never is the time for the cut,' said
 
 5S PERFERVID 
 
 Jamicson, pressing the point in a button -hole of 
 Mortimer's vest 
 
 ' Don't,' said Mortimer pathetically, dropping his 
 sword. 
 
 The Provost immediately released him, and 
 Mortimer hung the claymore on the wall and went 
 back to his chair. 
 
 'I'm a coward,' he groaned. ' I'm not a great 
 man. I'm only Hugh Smith. Cosmo Mortimer 
 would have died against that wall.' 
 
 The Provost hung up his weapon also, and was 
 about to resume his seat when a gong sounded. 
 
 ' Half- past five,' he said. ' We've had a long 
 talk. Dinner's at six. Come and dress.'
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 NOW OR NEVER 
 
 TllK Provost's dressing-room was immediately above 
 
 the stud}', and as large as it. A little room opened 
 off it, corresponding to that which contained the 
 novels below ; it was his bedroom. Two entire 
 sides of the dressing-room were fitted up as a ward- 
 robe, one with shelves three feet broad, and the other 
 with pegs ; sliding panels of oak extended from floor 
 to ceiling ; and as the other walls were wainscotted in 
 oak, the existence of the wardrobe could not easily be 
 detected. In the centre of this apartment mirrors were 
 arranged as in a tailor's fitting-on room. The rest of the 
 furnishings were not distinguished by any peculiarity. 
 ' Now,' said the Provost, ' I have a great many 
 costumes here. There are the princely fashions of 
 half a dozen centuries for myself, and a variety of 
 garbs in which I sometimes dress my servants ; 
 amonsi them is the very thing for vou.'
 
 60 PERFERVID 
 
 The Provost moved a panel and took from the 
 wardrobe a cap with ass's cars and a cock's comb, 
 having a bell on each ear and on the comb ; a coat, 
 the skirt of which was cut into peaks, with immense 
 peaks at the elbows ; and a pair of tights. One 
 half of each of these garments was red, the other 
 yellow. He also brought out a pair of long-toed 
 shoes, of which the one was blue and the other green. 
 
 ' I got these,' he said, ' last Christmas for my 
 coachman, who is a bit of a wag. You can wear 
 them in the meantime.' 
 
 Mortimer gasped and trembled ; he placed his 
 hands on the toilet-table to steady himself and tried 
 to speak, but passion choked him. 
 
 ' Don't you like the dress ? ' asked Jamieson. 
 
 ' No,' began Mortimer, but he could get no 
 further. 
 
 ' Give it a trial,' said Jamieson, turning to the 
 wardrobe to select a dress for himself. 
 
 ' Come,' he said, having made his choice and 
 finding Mortimer's position unchanged, ' don't be 
 sulky.' 
 
 With perfect good-humour he took a riding-whip 
 from a peg, and switching the air looked at himself 
 in one of the mirrors, and remarked to his reflection, 
 "If I couldn't control my passions, I wouldn't like to
 
 NOW OR NEVER 61 
 
 be your fool, my liege, since you claim the ancient 
 right of chastisement. No, my liege, I shouldn't like- 
 to come under your whip, for I'll be bound you could 
 lay it on with any beadle or drum-major of them 
 all.' 
 
 Mortimer tried to swallow his passion at one 
 gulp, but it stuck in his throat for hours after. 
 Shuddering, he divested himself of his pepper-and- 
 salt and pulled on the red -and -yellow. As the 
 coachman for whom the dress had been made was 
 almost as tall as his master, Mortimer had consider- 
 able difficulty in disposing of the superfluous cloth. 
 The waist of the coat girded his thighs, the scalloped 
 skirt came below his knees, and half a foot of the 
 sleeve had to be rolled back, while the peak of it 
 depended from his wrist. As for the tights, they 
 had also to be rolled up, and they were so wide for 
 him that his legs looked as if some malicious malady 
 had destroyed the flesh, leaving the shrivelled skin 
 flapping about the bones. The cap and bells fitted 
 him well, his head being disproportionately big, but 
 the shoes stuck out behind as well as in front, 
 looking like a pair of rockers. He bore a strong 
 resemblance to a Brahmapootra cock. A careful 
 observation of the Brahmapootra cock might lead 
 one who knew no better to surmise that he is simply
 
 62 PERFERVID 
 
 a good-sized Spanish fowl, plucked alive by boys, 
 coated with mud, and re-feathered in a hurry ; his 
 dress seems about to forsake him, and he shuffles 
 along with his plumes coming down among his toes 
 in evident dread of finding himself suddenly a two- 
 legged animal without feathers. Some such idea as 
 this crossed the Provost's mind as he contemplated 
 Mortimer — a gigantic toy Brahmapootra cock 
 mounted on rockers. Laughing, he pushed the 
 little man among the mirrors, and Mortimer beheld 
 himself from all points of view, and sank on the 
 floor aghast and ashamed. His misery was com- 
 plete when he turned his eyes on Jamieson, for he 
 had apparelled himself magnificently in the fashion 
 of the early part of Henry VIII's reign. He wore 
 a plaited shirt embroidered with gold, and a small 
 ruff; a coat of violet-coloured velvet, damasked with 
 gold, the sleeves and breast slashed and puffed with 
 cloth of gold and ornamented with rubies ; his hose, 
 which were of white knitted silk, extended, in accord- 
 ance with the fashion he had adopted, from his waist 
 to his feet ; and he was shod with velvet buskins of the 
 same colour as his coat, slashed and puffed with gold. 
 ' No ! ' cried Mortimer, rising to his feet with tears 
 in his eyes. ' What have I done, what have I said 
 to merit this ? '
 
 NOW OR NEVER 
 
 63 
 
 His eloquence forsook him and the Provost 
 
 marched him down to the hall, saying as the big 
 shoes clattered on the steps, ' Good cousin Cosmo, 
 you will come to like these garments in time. It is 
 what every one wants, and is glad of ultimately, 
 
 however much he may rebel at first — to be shaken 
 into a uniform ; you are thrice lucky in getting the 
 livery which is required to complete your character.' 
 
 Mortimer was unable to reply. 
 
 At dinner Jamieson was restless and silent ; he
 
 64 PERFERVID 
 
 ate little and took no wine. He paid no attention 
 to Mortimer who, having recovered the use of his 
 tongue, kept up a constant muttering from the soup 
 to the salad, much to the amusement of the servants. 
 His smothered ejaculations were almost inaudible at 
 the start. Words and phrases, such as ' annuitant - 
 culture — literary ability — wretched provosts — incap- 
 able of greatness,' accompanied by fierce glances to 
 right and left, were distinguishable between the 
 spoonfuls of soup ; but it was not until several 
 glasses of sherry and Jamieson's want of attention 
 had roused his courage that Mortimer's soliloquy got 
 fairly under weigh. Even then, although emphatic 
 enough, it was still suppressed : this added to its 
 intensity, but it did not become fluent till the end of 
 the dinner. A speech punctuated with potatoes and 
 pigeon-pie and roast meat, with dashes of sherry and 
 champagne, with periods of mastication and paren- 
 theses of silence, may be brilliant, but it cannot be 
 smooth. 
 
 ' I'm not a hero — no!' he said, with a withering 
 glance at the cook. ' I don't think an annuitant 
 could be a hero.' Here he drank some champagne 
 and, taking a sight across the rim of his glass, plunged 
 his eyes into the coachman. ' But it doesn't follow 
 that a great man must be a hero. Hamlet,' he
 
 NOW OR NEVER 65 
 
 specially informed the astonished boy in buttons, 
 ' was a great man, but he wasn't a hero. The differ- 
 ence between great men and heroes is that great 
 men are wise and heroes are fools. Nelson was a 
 hero ; Wellington was a great man. Heroes,' he 
 pointedly assured the maid who had served the 
 whisk\- dt lunch, ' are eccentric ; heroism is eccen- 
 tricity. That,' he explained to the gardener, ' is an 
 epigram.' He then devoted fully two minutes of 
 concentrated attention to a succulent slice of the 
 undercut. ' Greatness is humble, it is submissive ; 
 heroism is aggressive and arrogant.' Here he stole 
 a glance at Jamieson, and finding that he wasn't 
 observed turned on the full blaze of his eyes and 
 hissed out, ' Provosts have frequently been heroes ; 
 annuitants never ! ' 
 
 Thus he continued, gathering momentum until, 
 with a stalk of celery in one hand and a knife with 
 a piece of cheese on the point of it in the other, he 
 stood up and burst into a storm of eloquence and 
 self-contradiction. 
 
 ' To be kidnapped in this way,' he cried, extend- 
 ing the knife with the button of cheese like a minia- 
 ture foil, and rapping the table with the stalk of 
 celery, ' and that by a miserable Provost, whose sole 
 excuse is that he is affected with softening of the
 
 66 PERFERVID 
 
 brain, is unendurable, except by a great man. I 
 have endured it. I have suffered myself to be clad 
 in this antique misfit without a murmur. I have 
 sat here the object of the scorn and laughter of 
 menials. I have drunk the wine and eaten the meat 
 of my persecutor with patience — and even with con- 
 siderable enjoyment. I have made some remarks to 
 which he has paid no attention ; but I trust he is 
 listening now.' 
 
 An animated gesture at this point sent the button 
 of cheese flying down the table. In the heat of the 
 moment the speaker made a lunge after it with his 
 knife, but, of course, failed to capture it. Then, 
 with that sort of reflex action which is the cause of 
 many ludicrous doings on the part of orators, he 
 stabbed his celery- stalk, and holding it out trans- 
 fixed on the point of his knife continued his 
 deliverance. 
 
 ' I say,' he shouted, ' that a hero pure and simple 
 is never a great man, but a great man may be a hero. 
 Heroism is thoughtless, and it is allowable for a 
 great man sometimes to be thoughtless, but he 
 must take care that his thoughtlessness is not mere 
 thoughtless thoughtlessness, as, indeed, it cannot be, 
 for great men are never thoughtless. I have sub- 
 mitted to the indignities which I have specified ; I
 
 NOW OR NE\ II 67 
 
 have borne them with meekness — I have even turned 
 the other cheek ; but I now wish to enter a protest 
 against the inhumanity of the treatment which I 
 have received ; and the easiest and most heroic 
 method open to me in present circumstances is to 
 pluck off this cap of ignominy, which like a red-hot 
 crown has seared my temples and kept up a jingling 
 which has nearly driven me mad, and flinging it on 
 the ground, as you now sec, to trample it under foot 
 like an accursed thing, crushing the miserable bells 
 of it fiat on the floor, as you now hear.' 
 
 Having stamped on the cap and bells with both 
 feet, Mortimer folded his arms and sat down in a 
 great and heroic attitude. 
 
 The Provost smiled faintly and clapped his hands 
 gently. ' Bravo ! ' he cried ; but he was so pre- 
 occupied that he had not understood a word of what 
 Mortimer had said. He was about to resume his 
 meditation when it struck him that he had better 
 compliment his fool. 
 
 ' Cosmo,' he said, ' if I only make as good a king 
 as you do a clown we shall be celebrated. It is 
 natural,' he added, after a moment's thought, ' that 
 the revival of the Stuart dynasty should be accom- 
 panied by the revival of the court -jester ; and if 1 
 have the temerity to think that I am destined to
 
 68 PERFERVID 
 
 be the agent of one of these revivals, it is a small 
 matter to believe that in you I have become 
 acquainted with the reviver of the other.' 
 
 Mortimer gnashed his teeth. ' Will you not 
 understand ? ' he cried. ' However grotesque and 
 absurd my words and ways may be in your eyes, 
 I am thoroughly earnest in all I do and say. To 
 try to make a fool of me as you are doing- is ignoble 
 and unworthy of a king.' 
 
 This appeal passed unheeded, for Jamieson's 
 thoughts were far away. He rose, and the servants 
 left the hall ceremoniously. Then he poured out 
 a glass of wine for himself — the first he had taken — 
 drank a little of it, pressed his forehead with both 
 hands, and leant towards Mortimer. 
 
 1 Cosmo,' he said, ' we must act. Some one has 
 said that if a man has done nothing remarkable 
 before he is thirty he will be a nonentity all his 
 life. I am twenty -eight ; I have done nothing yet 
 but dream and devise deeds. In two years — in 
 one — in a month — a man might forestall the fatal 
 thirty. We have two years, Cosmo ; and to-night 
 we will join issue with time. I have told you some 
 of my schemes ; I discard them all for the simplest 
 and best, and the most adventurous. It occurred to 
 me at dinner, and it is this : to start to-night, on
 
 Ni >\V OR NEVER 69 
 
 foot, we two, and take our chance. We know the 
 object with which we go forth, but nothing more. 
 What do you think of it? But that doesn't matter; 
 my mind is made up. I have not felt so light- 
 hearted since I ceased reading novels.' 
 
 ' Saul,' said Mortimer incisively, ' went out to 
 seek his father's asses and found a kingdom ; when 
 asses go out seeking a kingdom they may be thankful 
 if they find thistles.' 
 
 ' The event is nothing to me now,' said Jamieson. 
 ' My resolve to undertake the expedition and the 
 certainty that I shall go through with it to a final 
 result — a gallows or a crown — is the cause of my 
 happiness.' 
 
 Mortimer shed tears of helpless anger as he 
 followed Jamieson to the study. 
 
 It was after ten when, with cloaks over their 
 fancy dresses, they went forth through the fields by 
 an unfrequented way. Mortimer had been allowed 
 to put on his own cap and boots, but he had been 
 compelled to buckle round his waist a sword of 
 lath. Jamieson carried a rapier, and had a pistol 
 stuck in his belt ; he, also, wore a modern hat and 
 boots. When they had passed out of sight of 
 M intern they left the fields, intending to take to 
 the highway ; but as there was still a possibility
 
 7o 
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 of meeting known persons, they walked in a wood 
 which skirted the road. 
 
 ' Cosmo,' said Ninian, ' is this not better than 
 fishing ? ' 
 
 Mortimer's answer was not forthcoming at once. 
 He had felt the soothing influence of the walk 
 
 through the fields, and was inclined temporarily 
 to accept the position as the only means of getting 
 out of it. It was with some hesitation, however, 
 and a tremor in his voice, for it was difficult for the 
 little man even to appear to yield, that he said, 
 ' How means your majesty — as sport, pleasure, or 
 duty ? '
 
 NOW OR NEVER 71 
 
 Ninian stood still a second and blushed with 
 delight : it was the first time he had been addressed 
 as a king. 
 
 ' But which is it, Cosmo ? ' he asked. ' I should 
 say it partakes of the nature of all three.' 
 
 ' Your majesty is partly right,' said Mortimer, 
 who was astonished to find himself enjoying the 
 situation, ' and partly wrong. It partakes of the 
 nature of all three for you ; it partakes of the 
 nature of none of them for me.' 
 
 ' How is that, good Cosmo ? I thought all 
 lawful occupations came under one of these three 
 heads. I admit you are the first, so far as I know, 
 to make a distinction between sport and pleasure ; 
 but I believe such exists.' 
 
 ' Kxists, my liege ! It is the only distinction 
 which does exist,' cried Mortimer, whose skill in 
 the invention of theories submission had restored. 
 ' In comparison with it all other distinctions are 
 moonshine. Pleasure is used erroneously to denote 
 all employments in which a man spends money 
 without the hope of a monetary or concrete return 
 of any kind : all basking and lounging and doing 
 nothing from which a man derives satisfaction ; 
 every method of taking one's ease — all annihilation 
 of time by any means which is not work. But this
 
 72 PERFERVID 
 
 definition includes sport. Then, why have we the 
 word sport ? You see, there are the two words — 
 there must be two things. At first I thought 
 pleasure was generic, and sport a species, but I 
 now know better. Sport, my lord, is any serious 
 undertaking from which a man derives neither 
 pleasure nor profit, and which he does not intend 
 or expect to be either pleasant or profitable. One 
 example will do. I fish. Well, why do I fish ? 
 And, by the way, I believe I'm the first angler 
 who ever asked himself that question. I fish 
 because others fish. I fish because I srot the 
 present of a rod when I was a boy. I fish because 
 I am an annuitant and, having nothing to do, must 
 kill time in some orthodox fashion. I hate angling ; 
 it tires my arm ; I run the hooks into my fingers, 
 and get wet, and frequently catch colds, and never 
 catch fish. But it is my sport ; I massacre my 
 fingers, but I also massacre time, and I am respected 
 because I am a sportsman. Oh, my liege, it takes 
 great men to be sportsmen ! Do you think the 
 world would yield them such deference if self-denial 
 and self-sacrifice were not at the bottom of all sport? 
 I tell you the world cares for nothing but self- 
 denial.' 
 
 ' But I know fishers,' said Ninian, while Mortimer
 
 NOW OR NEVER 73 
 
 paused for breath, ' who take great pleasure in their 
 sport.' 
 
 ' A contradiction in terms, my lord. There's the 
 theory : sport is a serious undertaking, neither 
 pleasant nor profitable. You can't get over that. 
 Where pleasure enters there is no sport. Those 
 fishers who take pleasure in fishing have ceased to 
 be sportsmen, because they have ceased to exercise 
 self-denial. You see ? There's nothing like theory. 
 
 ' Then, good cousin, what is your theory of your 
 share in the present undertaking ? ' 
 
 ' My lord, my share in the present undertaking 
 is not pleasant, because I don't like it ; it is not 
 duty, because it is not work, and there is no inner 
 voice compelling me ; it is not sport, because, 
 although neither pleasant nor profitable, it is not 
 voluntary. There is one other category under which 
 it may come, and that is slavery. I am the captive 
 of your wiles and the captive of your sword ; you 
 force me to do a thing against my will and without 
 a wage ; I am therefore your slave. Let us finish 
 it, my liege. Shall I bow down that you may put 
 your foot on my neck ? ' 
 
 ■ Xo, Cosmo, no ; you shall not be my slave, 
 because, as long as you are my jester, I'll give you 
 a salary ; I'll double your income, Cosmo. As to
 
 74 PERFERVID 
 
 your not liking it, I can't help that. No man is fit 
 to be a king who is not a consummate judge of men. 
 I have given you the one role for which you are fitted, 
 and you will thank me in time. You see, Cosmo, 
 there's the theory : a king must be a consummate 
 judge of men. Now, I am a king, therefore I have 
 judged you rightly. There's nothing like theory, 
 Cosmo.' 
 
 Mortimer was quite prepared to prove that it 
 altogether depended on who enunciated the theory, 
 but Ninian's intimation that he was to be paid so 
 handsomely changed the aspect of affairs. 
 
 ' Cousin,' he said, availing himself of the jester's 
 privilege, and with a blandness equal to Ninian's, ' I 
 shall accept your theory when you give me the same 
 satisfaction as a king which I seem to give you as a 
 fool.' 
 
 ' A fair bargain,' said Ninian. ' I own my task- 
 will be arduous. I have made a study of my 
 ancestors, and I think I know what to avoid, but 
 what models to follow is another matter.' 
 
 ' But your majesty has already contradicted your- 
 self, in my hearing, in this very matter of conduct.' 
 
 'Have I, Cosmo? It can be only a seeming 
 contradiction.' 
 
 ' As irreconcilable as yes and no.'
 
 NOW OR NEVER 75 
 
 ' Let us hear it.' 
 
 ' Your majesty, with a condescension worthy of 
 your ancient race, stated your determination to 
 govern according to modern constitutional ideas. 
 How can you reconcile that with your intention to 
 revive feudalism ? ' 
 
 ' I admit, Cosmo, that my ideas on this whole 
 subject of government are nebulous ; but whatever 
 they may or shall be it is my intention to proceed 
 constitutionally — that is, to educate the people to my 
 way of thinking cither by the pen or by the sword.' 
 
 With such talk they beguiled the way until the 
 moon rose, and Ninian began to grow moody. 
 They still kept in the wood, in which there was a 
 beaten path parallel to the high road. The moon's 
 light fell here and there like splashes of silver on the 
 trunks of the trees and the dark glossy leaves of the 
 blaeberries. Fitful gusts of wind travelled over the 
 wood. They were to be heard whispering far off 
 among the tree -tops ; and as they came nearer the 
 sound seemed hardlv louder, but more distinct and 
 intense, until they passed with a prolonged ' hush ! ' 
 over the heads of the travellers into the road ; and 
 there they fell silent. These night winds at first 
 soothed Ninian, but their rapid recurrence began to 
 trouble him, and without consulting Mortimer he left
 
 76 PERFERVID 
 
 the wood. Mortimer followed him promptly, and 
 they continued their journey in silence for some 
 time. 
 
 At length Ninian, throwing off his cloak and 
 hanging it over his arm — an action in which his 
 companion imitated him — approached close to 
 Cosmo, as if glad to feel the neighbourhood of 
 another mortal, and addressed him less cavalierly 
 than he had yet done. 
 
 ' Cousin,' he said, ' this road which we took because 
 it was the first we came to leads to Tullibolton. 
 Strange as it may seem to you, I have never visited 
 Tullibolton House, nor made the acquaintance of 
 the Mortons. I don't know what has prevented my 
 doing so — and, indeed, it seems strange to myself — 
 but we shall go there to-night. It is destiny which 
 has directed our steps.' 
 
 ' How far are we from Tullibolton ? ' asked 
 Mortimer. 
 
 ' Half a mile.' 
 
 'Well, my liege, it's about half-past twelve just 
 now. What kind of reception from the Mortons of 
 Tullibolton do you imagine awaits two utter strangers 
 at this time of night, and in our guise too?' 
 
 ' Cosmo,' said Ninian, ' we are here upon an 
 adventure, and we must follow the indications that
 
 NOW OR NEVER 7 7 
 
 arc given us. Worldly wisdom, of which your 
 remark savours, is totally foreign to our undertak- 
 ing, as to all great undertakings. Nothing valiant, 
 nothing noble, nothing great, was ever done by men 
 who counted the cost. In the small matter of our 
 visit to Tullibolton we have nothing to do with the 
 reception which awaits us. We feel constrained to 
 go there, and we go.' 
 
 ' What sound is that ? ' cried Mortimer. 
 
 ' I hear nothing,' said Ninian. 
 
 ' I thought I heard riders in front, but I must 
 have been mistaken.' 
 
 ' Mahomet's first converts were his relations,' said 
 Ninian, quickening his pace. ' I shall go to Tulli- 
 bolton as a king; there must be no compromise 
 now.' 
 
 He strode along at such a rate that Mortimer, 
 having to trot in order to keep up with him, was 
 about to protest, when they were brought to a stand- 
 still by a cry of ' Halt.' At the same moment a 
 horse leapt from the shadow of some trees into the 
 road, and its rider, presenting a revolver, demanded 
 in a sweet voice their money or their lives. 
 
 Ninian instantly drew his pistol from his belt, 
 cocked it, and had almost fired when he observed 
 that the rider was a woman.
 
 NOW OR NEVER 79 
 
 1 Lad\-,' he said, still covering her with his pistol, 
 ' if you need money I will give it you.' 
 
 He thought she might be in debt, as young ladies 
 will sometimes be, and was now making a desperate 
 attempt to get her account settled. 
 
 ' Here's another !' gasped Mortimer, drawing his 
 wooden sword and pressing close to Ninian, as a 
 second amazon appeared from the shadow. 
 
 ' You've lost, Marjory,' she said. 
 
 ' Or won, aunt,' said the first, putting away her 
 revolver and bending down to see Xinian, whose 
 violet velvet and white silk made him a notable 
 figure in the moonlight. She scanned him from top 
 to toe, and her eyes rested long on his. Then she 
 sat up in a hurry with a deep blush covering her 
 face and neck. She had been surprised into her 
 scrutiny of Ninian ; it was his steady devouring gaze- 
 that recalled her to herself. 
 
 1 I am the king,' said Ninian. ' Who arc you ? ' 
 Marjory, amazed, made no answer ; but her aunt, 
 thinking that they dealt with masqucradcrs, replied 
 for her. 
 
 ' This is Miss Marjory Morton of Tullibolton.' 
 ' Fair cousin,' said Ninian, more pleased than 
 surprised, ' this is a happy meeting, for we are on 
 our way to Tullibolton.'
 
 80 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Aunt, come here,' said Marjory, turning her horse 
 and riding forward a few yards. 
 
 'What shall 1 say?' she asked, when her aunt 
 had joined her. 
 
 ' Nothing,' was the answer. ' Ride straight home 
 now. They are evidently bad men from Edinburgh 
 or Glasgow on a holiday- — and inferior too, I've no 
 doubt.' 
 
 ' I think I'll bid them welcome,' said Marjory, 
 who had ridden off not so much to consult her aunt 
 as to make up her mind ; she was one of those to 
 whom motion is necessary when a rapid decision is 
 required. 'Yes, I'll invite them.' 
 
 ' You will do a very wrong thing, then,' said her 
 aunt. 
 
 ' Xot at all. He who calls himself the king is a 
 gentleman every way ; I saw it in his eyes.' She 
 rode back, accompanied by her aunt, who vainly 
 whispered dissuasive arguments. 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' said Marjory, ' you will be welcome 
 to Tullibolton. I think we shall have explanations 
 to make to each other. You know the way ? ' 
 
 ' Quite well, fair cousin,' said Ninian. 
 
 ' We shall ride on, then, to prepare for your 
 coming.' 
 
 'A thousand thanks,' said Ninian.
 
 NOW OR NEVER 81 
 
 ' Well ! ' exclaimed Mortimer, as the ladies rode 
 away. 
 
 ' Well ? ' queried Ninian. 
 
 ' Nothing,' said Mortimer, shaking his head from 
 side to side, and up and down, and looking unutter- 
 able theories. 
 
 G
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THOMSINA MERCER 
 
 WHEN Ninian and Cosmo entered the drawing- 
 room of Tullibolton House its sole occupant was the 
 elder of the two women. She sat where shaded 
 lamps half hid her face, and showed to best advan- 
 tage the remains of her beauty. She had a fan, 
 which was excusable after her ride, and she played 
 it with some grace, varying the light and shade of 
 the lamps. She wore her riding-habit, and it be- 
 came her well. Her face, even in the subdued light, 
 looked fully thirty-five, but her figure seemed much 
 younger. All this Cosmo took in at a glance, after 
 she had bowed them to a seat, and his inner voice 
 said, ' She's well preserved ; over forty ; face, a little 
 gone ; body, good — always the way with unmarried 
 women. Theory again. Faces of matrons last 
 longer than their figures ; figures of single women 
 last longer than their faces.'
 
 THOMSINA MERCER 8 3 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' said the unconscious object of this 
 criticism, ' I hardly know what to say, my niece is 
 so wilful.' 
 
 ' Madam,' began Mortimer. 
 
 ' Peace, fool,' said Ninian. 
 
 Mortimer, always red-hot, turned to white heat, 
 and ground his teeth. His post was to be no sine- 
 cure, that was evident. 
 
 It was well enough when they were alone, but 
 he questioned if £400 a year was at all an equi- 
 valent for the indignity of being called ' fool ' at 
 Ninian's pleasure. He set himself to think the matter 
 out. 
 
 ' Madam,' continued Ninian, ' nothing in the 
 whole course of my life has given me greater pleasure 
 than this meeting.' 
 
 ' I am sorry that it gives you so much pleasure, 
 for my niece is acting very foolishly, I think. She 
 will not be here for a minute or two yet, and if you 
 are gentlemen you will leave the house before she 
 comes.' 
 
 ' How, madam ! would you dictate to me ? ' said 
 Ninian haughtily. 
 
 This rather disconcerted the lad)', and she looked 
 to Cosmo for help ; but he was also unprepared for 
 such rigorous absolutism.
 
 84 PERFERVID 
 
 1 If Miss Morton,' said Ninian more graciously, 
 ' requests our withdrawal, we shall comply.' 
 
 Nothing was said to this, so Ninian leant back 
 with his arms folded and stared at the ceiling. The 
 lady opened and shut her fan, and tapped the floor 
 with her foot, and Mortimer shifted about in his 
 chair until Marjory entered the room. 
 
 Her riding-habit had been changed for a costume 
 which she had worn a fortnight before at a ball in 
 Perth : a close-bodied gown of brocaded cream- 
 coloured silk with tight sleeves, and a gorget ruff 
 enclosing her head like an open casket, or the cup 
 of a flower ; her head-dress was a copy of that 
 commonly associated with Mary, Queen of Scots, 
 although the rest of her costume was more than half 
 a century later — after the style of Henrietta Maria. 
 She was under the average height for women, and 
 her figure was girlish ; she had just turned eighteen. 
 Her dark brown hair tinged with gold about the 
 temples hung in thick natural curls a little below 
 her shoulders. The lustre of health glowed in her 
 pale face. Her chin was broad, and her mouth large 
 and well shaped ; the lips of a dazzling red — the 
 effect of the pallor in which they shone ; her nose 
 was small, but straight ; her eyes dark blue, and 
 inclining to the almond-shape ; the eye-lashes long
 
 THOMSINA MERCER 85 
 
 and heavy; the eye -brows straight and lightly 
 
 marked ; the forehead broad and low. 
 
 ' Balzac,' remarked Mortimer to himself, having 
 rapidly appreciated all Marjory's points, ' Balzac 
 says that there area hundred ways of being a blonde, 
 but only one of being a brunette. There is some- 
 thing in it, for I never saw a brunette li kc this before ; 
 she proves the rule.' 
 
 Ninian rose as she walked up the room and gave 
 her his hand, which she took with a blush and a 
 sweeping curtsey. She sat on a couch, and he placed 
 his chair beside her. 
 
 ' Well, Marjory,' said her aunt, rising, ' you've done 
 all you said you would do, and I hope you're satis- 
 fied. I think you'd better go to bed now.' 
 
 ' No, aunt, I couldn't sleep. You know quite 
 well I never do in these hot nights.' 
 
 ' Then what are you going to do ? ' 
 
 ' 1 think we are going to talk,' said Marjory, 
 turning towards Ninian. 
 
 ' I have much to say,' said he. 
 
 ' But this is folly and madness. I will not coun- 
 tenance it,' said her aunt, marching to the door. 
 
 ' Cousin,' said Mortimer, ' you had better ' 
 
 'Go to the kitchen, fool,' said Ninian. 'To the 
 kitchen with you ! '
 
 86 
 
 PERFERVII) 
 
 ' Revenge ! ' cried Mortimer. 
 
 ' You are to leave the room,' said Ninian, going 
 towards Mortimer, who retreated to the door. Mar- 
 jory's aunt went out quickly, anticipating violence, 
 and Ninian pushed Mortimer after her, saying as he 
 closed the door, ' Let no one come here till I ring 
 the bell.' 
 
 ' This is the last straw ! ' cried Mortimer ; ' the 
 last straw ! ' 
 
 Marjory had risen also, and faced Ninian as he 
 turned from the door. She had intended to remon- 
 strate, but the blaze of his eyes and the power in his 
 expression and gesture stopped her. All she said 
 was, ' You sec, I have put on a fancy dress too.'
 
 THOMSINA MERCER §7 
 
 But we require to follow Mortimer in the mean- 
 time. 
 
 ' Don't,' he said, withholding Marjory's aunt, who 
 was about to reopen the drawing-room door. ' The 
 man's mad.' 
 
 ' But my niece ! ' exclaimed the lad}'. 
 
 ' Must take care of herself.' 
 
 ' It is her fault, certainly.' 
 
 ' Will you allow me to explain how I became 
 entangled with this insane fool ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; come in here.' 
 
 She led the way into a little sitting-room and 
 lit the gas, and Mortimer and she sat down 
 together. 
 
 ' Whom have I the pleasure of addressing ? ' 
 
 asked the lady. 
 
 After Ninian's free and easy style Mortimer was 
 delighted with this formality. ' Mr. Cosmo Mortimer,' 
 he replied. ' To whom have I the honour of making 
 myself known ? ' 
 
 ' Miss Thomsina Mercer,' said the lady. 
 
 ' Shocking!' cried Mortimer, surprised at once out 
 of his ceremony. ' My dear lady, I suppose you 
 know that Mercer is a provostal name ; half the old 
 provosts of Perth were Mercers.' 
 
 ' They were my ancestors,' said Miss Mercer.
 
 88 PERFERVID 
 
 ' And Thomsina ! ' said Mortimer, with horror in 
 his voice ; 'have you not found the name a terrible 
 infliction ? ' 
 
 ' What do you mean, sir ? ' said Thomsina, slapping 
 her fan together angrily. 
 
 ' Pardon, pardon ! ' cried Mortimer. ' You must 
 understand I have a theory of names, which 
 tells me that you would fain be eccentric, but 
 you are tied by a middle -class mode of thinking. 
 You ' 
 
 ' Mr. Mortimer, is it you or your master who is 
 mad ? My name is no concern of yours. Tell me 
 what is the meaning of this night-wandering and 
 masquerading.' 
 
 Mortimer plunged into a narrative of his adven- 
 tures since his arrival in Mintern ; and Miss Mercer, 
 much impressed with the story, and in Mr. Mortimer's 
 favour, listened to the end without interrupting him. 
 
 ' How much truth,' asked Mortimer, when he had 
 done, ' or is there any, in this story of the Chevalier 
 de St. George ? ' 
 
 ' I never heard it before,' said Miss Mercer ; ' but 
 I believe I know the source of it, and I shall tell you. 
 But is it not terrible, when you think of it, Mr. 
 Mortimer? Here are we talking at half-past one 
 o'clock in the morning as unconcernedly and as
 
 THOMSINA MERCER 89 
 
 intimately as if it were broad daylight and we had 
 known each other for twenty years ! But I am done 
 with my niece henceforth, her and her whims. She 
 is a most dreadful girl, Mr. Mortimer, and is the 
 cause of the gravest anxiety to her relations. We 
 don't know how or when it got there, but there is 
 bad blood in the family, Mr. Mortimer. It appears 
 at irregular intervals, and the first known appearance 
 of it must, 1 think, have given rise to this theory of 
 Mr. Jamieson's about the Chevalier de St. George. 
 The Marjory Morton of that time certainly had a son 
 who was called James Jamieson, but, Mr. Mortimer, 
 so was his father before him. He was the coachman, 
 and Marjory ran off with him to Gretna Green. He 
 was killed at Sheriffmuir, and she returned to her 
 father. Her son is the ancestor of the Provost of 
 M intern. The Mortons have always ignored the 
 Jamiesons, though quite aware of their existence. 
 I don't suppose that a single Morton has been in 
 Mintcrn for several generations. It was not to be 
 thought of while the shop filled one side of the 
 principal square, and the " Dunmyatt Whisky " in 
 tartan letters appeared wherever a bill could be stuck ; 
 and still less now that a Jamieson is Provost. What 
 would my brother-in-law say if he knew who was in 
 the house at this moment ? '
 
 90 PERFERVID 
 
 ' He is a thorough -going impostor, then, this 
 diamond-making Provost ? ' 
 
 ' Undoubtedly.' 
 
 ' I shall expose him in the newspapers.' 
 
 ' Will you ? In what paper ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know ; but I shall do it. Justice as well 
 as vengeance requires it.' 
 
 ' The Mintern Gazette would be glad of any attack 
 on the Provost ; and I think you would be perfectly 
 justified, Mr. Mortimer, you, a man of position, of 
 means, and of culture, forced to submit to the indig- 
 nities you have mentioned, in giving him a thorough 
 scarifying.' 
 
 ' I'll scarify him — I'll skin him alive ! ' said 
 Mortimer. ' I'll do it at once. When is the paper 
 published ? ' 
 
 ' On Saturday, so there is no hurry.' 
 
 ' This is Thursday — no, Friday morning. There's 
 not much time to lose.' 
 
 ' You must get a sleep first, Mr. Mortimer. I am 
 certain my brother-in-law would esteem it an honour 
 to have you in Tullibolton House.' 
 
 Mortimer bowed profoundly. 
 
 ' I was accounting to you as far as possible,' con- 
 tinued Miss Mercer, ' for Marjory's absurdities, to 
 call them by a gentle name. There have been two
 
 THOMSINA MERCER 91 
 
 Marjories between the one that married the coach- 
 man and the present one. The Maggies, the Janets, 
 the Lizzies of the family have all been jewels of 
 women, but in the Marjories the bad blood appears. 
 One of them married her father's under-gardener, and 
 the other eloped with a commercial traveller. What 
 this one will do heaven only knows ! You see how 
 she behaves. Imagine, Mr. Mortimer ! We had a 
 long discussion about the men of the present genera- 
 tion — my niece and I. It lasted till eleven o'clock. 
 She declared that there wasn't a spark of chivalry 
 left among them ; that the getting hold of money 
 and the spending it on themselves was all they lived 
 for; that they were all cowards — and I'm sure I 
 don't remember all she said. I reminded her of 
 Gordon, but she burst out, " Why isn't every man a 
 Gordon ? " and she wouldn't listen to me. She said 
 the women were fools and cowards too, and instanced 
 me, Mr. Mortimer, if you please, because with my 
 £ 200 a year I didn't " do something." She challenged 
 me to ride with her a mile along the road at mid- 
 night. I was angry and accepted the challenge, not 
 foreseeing the disastrous results — I mean, for her. 
 For myself I have to thank this mad-brained expe- 
 dition, because it has gained me your acquaintance, 
 Mr. Mortimer.'
 
 92 PERFERVID 
 
 ' I could almost forgive Jamieson's insults on the 
 same account, madam,' said Mortimer. 
 
 The pair becked and bowed, and Thomsina 
 blushed, and Mortimer's vanity was gratified after 
 the rough usage it had received at the hands of the 
 Provost. 
 
 ' I wasn't to be outdone,' continued Thomsina, 
 ' so I said to Marjory, " You have bragged a deal. 
 Will you take a pistol with you, and if we meet one 
 of these cowardly men demand his money or his 
 life ? " "I will," she said, " and he'll give me his 
 money or run away." " He won't," I said. "If he 
 doesn't," says she, firing up, " I'll marry him, or give 
 you my diamond brooch." ' 
 
 ' Oho ! ' cried Mortimer. ' I understand what you 
 two said to each other now. Didn't you say, " You've 
 lost, Marjory," and she answered, " Or won, aunt " ? ' 
 
 ' Exactly.' 
 
 ' And would she marry the Provost, do you 
 think.' 
 
 ' A very likely thing, if for no other reason than 
 to spite her family.' 
 
 ' She must be a terrible creature.' 
 
 ' She is, indeed, Mr. Mortimer. The rest of the 
 family, except her father, are in Switzerland ; but 
 she wouldn't go. She said she had made a vow
 
 THOMSINA MERCER 93 
 
 never to leave Scotland again, and nothing would 
 move her. She couldn't be left here alone, so I was 
 told off to watch her, in the hope, as she hates me, 
 that she would break her absurd vow. But no ; so 
 here we arc.' 
 
 1 A very remarkable girl ; very. Marjory Morton 
 — a difficult name to deal with.' 
 
 ' And a difficult woman, Mr. Mortimer.' 
 
 ' Kvidently.' 
 
 ' Now, what is to be done ? ' 
 
 ' Where's her father ? ' 
 
 ' In London. He wishes to enter Parliament at 
 next election, and he is endeavouring to secure the 
 support of the leaders.' 
 
 ' Then he must be telegraphed for at once.' 
 
 ' That's my idea too.' 
 
 ' Miss Mercer, you are a woman of intellect and 
 of daring. How to reconcile these qualities with 
 your name, if you will allow me the remark, is more 
 than I can say in the meantime ; but I shall work- 
 out the problem.' 
 
 ' Thank you,' said Thomsina drily. 
 
 ' I see,' said Mortimer, ' that it is a delicate subject 
 with you, and I do not wonder at it. Thomsina 
 Mercer is, to all appearance, a name incapable of 
 greatness. Now, there are elements of greatness in
 
 94 PERFERVID 
 
 your character. Why not do as other women with 
 unfortunate names have done ? Look at Marian 
 Evans. Do you think these paltry syllables would 
 have developed the genius of George Eliot ? But 
 I'll go thoroughly into the matter at leisure. Now, 
 if you give me writing materials I'll pen an exposure 
 of this wretched impostor and take it to Mintern at 
 once.' 
 
 ' And the telegram ? ' 
 
 ' I'll look after that too.' 
 
 ' But we always send our telegrams from Perth. 
 It's quite as near as Mintern. My brother-in-law 
 will be scandalised at receiving a telegram from 
 Mintern.' 
 
 ' Does he carry his resentment so far as that ? ' 
 
 ' He is terribly touchy on the point. His health 
 has never been what it was since the " Dunmyatt 
 Whisky " came out.' 
 
 ' I like him — I like a man who can be extreme. 
 Depend upon it, Miss Mercer — but what is his first 
 name ? ' 
 
 ' Andrew.' 
 
 ' A good name, though common. There is the 
 possibility of a sound reputation in Andrew Morton, 
 especially if he narrows himself down to a point, as 
 I've no doubt he will. He will never be a great
 
 THOMSINA MERCER 
 
 95 
 
 statesman, but he would make a very good chairman 
 of committees.' 
 
 Miss Mercer again invited Mortimer to take some 
 rest, but he declared he couldn't. Half bewildered 
 and half offended she took him to the library, where 
 he soon wrought himself to a white heat over his 
 paper for the Mintern Gazette.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 MARJORY MORTON 
 
 Marjory Morton was capable of making a good 
 remark in trying circumstances, and in a shipwreck 
 or a fire would have been cool among the coolest. 
 The novelty of her midnight adventure excited her, 
 but the press of ideas made her feel as if she were in 
 a blind alley ; hence the inferiority of her remark 
 when she was alone with Ninian, ' You see I have 
 put on a fancy dress too.' 
 
 ' Miss Morton,' he began, and stopped. He was 
 affected in the same way as Marjory, though in a 
 less degree. He pressed his head with both hands 
 and shook back his hair. In the action he caught a 
 glimpse of himself in the mirror and felt at once 
 what was wrong. Miss Morton did not suit his 
 violet velvet and white silk, or her brocaded gown 
 and pearled head-dress. 
 
 ' Lady,' he said, lingering on the word, ' my time
 
 MARJORY MORTON 97 
 
 is brief, but I must have you on my side, though I 
 spend the night in persuading you.' 
 
 He led her to the couch, and took the chair he 
 had placed beside it. He then stated his claim to 
 the crown of Britain, and told her more powerfully 
 than he had told Mortimer of his struggles with him- 
 self. When he had finished he rose and said, ' Do 
 y< at acknowledge me ? ' 
 
 ' I do not know,' said Marjory, looking at the 
 floor with knitted brows. 
 
 ' I am sorry,' said Ninian ; ' I feel that my fate 
 depends on you. If you acknowledge me I shall go 
 on hopefully ; if not, in despair.' 
 
 ' Why ? ' 
 
 ' If you do not acknowledge me, who will ? 
 Because you have faith in romance, and are in sym- 
 pathy with all noble aspiration, I think you have 
 sympathy with me.' 
 
 1 I have,' she said musingly. ' I am sick 
 of the life I have led, and mean to lead it no 
 more ; and I love Scotland as I think nobody 
 else loves it now — as Burns loved it, and Scott 
 loved it' 
 
 She was anxious to speak if this strange hand- 
 some man with his dark eyes and deep tender voice 
 would only help her. She had never before talked 
 
 H
 
 98 PERFERVID 
 
 with any one to whom she felt she could explain 
 herself. He did help her. 
 
 ' So do I,' he said. ' I would be content to be 
 king of Scotland and leave the rest of the Empire 
 to the House of Brunswick. But it would require 
 to be repeopled. They say there are more Scotch- 
 men in London than there are in Edinburgh. I 
 would bring all these prodigals back, and from the 
 colonies, and America.' 
 
 ' It is shameful,' she burst out, ' how Scotchmen 
 forsake their country ! I am almost a socialist in 
 some things, but I would preserve nationalities. 
 My ambition comes far short of yours, still it is high- 
 flown enough. I would like to see Edinburgh once 
 more the home of the Scotch nobility ; to see it a 
 literary centre rivalling London and Paris. And it 
 could be done so easily. If the Duke of Weimar 
 with his small income could gather together Goethe, 
 Schiller, and the wit and wisdom of Germany, 
 surely a Scotch nobleman could gather about him 
 in Edinburgh all the eminent Scotchmen. That 
 would make us a nation once more.' 
 
 ' But a king would be infinitely better,' said 
 Ninian. 
 
 ' Perhaps.' 
 
 ' It is certain. When they cut off my great
 
 MARJORY MORTON 99 
 
 ancestor's head they did not know that they struck 
 a blow at England and Scotland, at every nation on 
 
 the face of the earth. Monarchy and nationality arc 
 the head and the body. There arc Frenchmen, but 
 no French nation ; Americans, but no American 
 nation. Wherever there is a monarch there is a 
 nation ; and the more absolute the monarchy the 
 more marked the nationality. I will be king of 
 Scotland — I will be king of Scotland.' 
 
 He advanced to within a foot of her and stood, 
 his hands before him, one holding the other by the 
 wrist. She looked up, and seemed unable to meet 
 his glance. 
 
 'Am I the king?' he asked under his breath. 
 
 ' I do not know.' 
 
 He turned from her and paced the room. She 
 looked at his feet, then her eyes gradually crept up 
 to his face. She was still watching the rapid change 
 of expression that crossed it when he came towards 
 her again and caught her glance. This time she 
 returned his gaze. 
 
 ' I am the king,' he -aid. 
 
 ' Hut '-— she hesitated — ' the proof? ' 
 
 ' Do you think that I could be king ? ' 
 
 • Yes.' 
 
 ' Then you must not doubt my word.'
 
 ioo PERFERVID 
 
 ' But there may be a mistake.' 
 
 1 Impossible ; I have the documents ; you shall 
 see them.' 
 
 She bowed and said nothing, and he stood 
 looking at her. Her eyes fell, and were again raised 
 with an inquiring glance which Ninian understood. 
 
 ' I haven't brought them with me,' he said ; ' but 
 I can get them. To-night I — I will get them to-night. 
 I ought to have them with me. Where is my fool ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, not to-night ! ' she said. 
 
 ' He can ride. You will lend him a horse.' 
 
 He was about to ring when Marjory said, ' Do 
 not ; there is no one to answer. I will go for him.' 
 
 It is well to note that the interview between Mar- 
 jory and Ninian had been of some duration. Long 
 pauses had occurred ; and Ninian's account of himself, 
 omitted in our narrative, took up a considerable time. 
 
 Marjory returned in a few minutes with Miss 
 Mercer, whom she had found dozing in an armchair 
 in the library. 
 
 'Where is my fool ?' said Ninian. 
 
 ' Mr. Mortimer,' said Thomsina with dignity, ' has 
 left Tullibolton.' 
 
 ' Without my permission ! The knave ! Where 
 has he gone ? ' 
 
 ' To M intern.'
 
 MARJORY MORTON 101 
 
 ' When did the rascal go ? ' 
 
 Thomsina gave no answer. 
 
 ' Do you hear? When did he go?' 
 
 ' Sir,' said Thomsina, with an oblique motion of 
 the head and a prolonged droop and gradual up- 
 heaval of the eyelids, ' I am not in the habit of 
 being talked to in this way, nor of hearing my 
 personal friends denominated rascals.' 
 
 ' I was not aware that you knew Cosmo.' 
 
 ' I do know him now,' she said. ' He is a 
 gentleman of birth and breeding, for whom I have 
 a great respect.' 
 
 ' Why, you've only known him an hour,' said 
 Marjory. 
 
 ' How long have you, mademoiselle, known this 
 person ? ' 
 
 Thomsina indicated Ninian with another oblique 
 gesture of disdain. To her delight she found she 
 had delivered a home-thrust, for her niece blushed 
 and said nothing. 
 
 ' My good woman,' said Ninian, ' when did Cosmo 
 go?' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle ' is a term of reproach in Scotland, 
 more stinging even than ' person ' ; but it is safer to 
 call a French general a liar than to address any 
 female as ' My good woman.'
 
 102 PERFERVID 
 
 ' You are a crack-brained, low-born fellow,' said 
 Thomsina, passing to the door with extreme obliquity. 
 ' I laugh at you and scorn you, and you will be the 
 laughing-stock and scorn of the world before the 
 week's out. And you, Marjory ! — you dupe, you 
 fool, you can only save your character by bidding 
 him go. I wash my hands of you.' She left the 
 room with a slow step, closing the door softly behind 
 her — an affectation of coolness which failed to ex- 
 asperate either Ninian or Marjory. 
 
 ' The flight of Cosmo,' said Ninian, ' is rather 
 annoying. But why should it trouble me ? If he 
 does as he threatened it will give me publicity, and 
 once in the newspapers there is no halting, no 
 turning back. I should like to go to bed now, if 
 you please. To-morrow I will get the documents.' 
 
 Marjory in silence showed him to a bedroom, and 
 in a few minutes he was sound asleep ; but she 
 walked her room till the cocks were crowing and 
 the sun was above the hills, then she burst into tears 
 and threw herself upon her bed. She had hardly 
 done so when some one passed her room stealthily 
 and went downstairs. Without any hesitation she 
 followed and found Ninian opening the front door. 
 
 1 Why do you steal away like this ? ' she asked. 
 
 He blushed and hung his head.
 
 MARJORY MORTON 103 
 
 ' I trusted you,' she said, without any clear mean- 
 ing in her mind. 
 
 ' Lady, I am a coward,' said Ninian. 'Let me 
 go.' 
 
 ' Go ! ' 
 
 ' But that is neither the word nor the tone which 
 a man obeys.' 
 
 ' 1 thought you were a coward.' 
 
 ' I am,' lie said, with humility. ' I am flying 
 from temptation instead of facing it.' 
 
 ' Temptation ! ' 
 
 ' Yes. What was the besetting sin of the Stuarts ?' 
 
 Marjory considered her answer: she was not 
 going to be silenced by plain speaking. 
 
 ' Random love,' she said. 
 
 ' No,' said Ninian, talking rapidly, ' it was not 
 that, but an unmanly yielding to the influence ot 
 women. Henrietta Maria was much more fatal to 
 Charles I. than all his Nell Gwyns to the Merry 
 Monarch. Think of Flora Macdonald. Prince 
 Charles should have died at Culloden ; failing that 
 he should have given himself up. His death on the 
 scaffold would have been the salvation of his house ; 
 and he would have been beheaded in spite of his 
 cowardice had not that woman protected him. I 
 have all the Stuarts' passionate adoration of woman
 
 io4 
 
 TERFERVID 
 
 unsullied, and were I not a king I would make some 
 woman happy ; but a king, least of all a Stuart king, 
 should never love.' 
 
 ' But why should you leave the house without 
 bidding me good-bye ? ' 
 
 ' Lady, you torture me. I dreamt of you. You 
 were my wife. We lived in Holyrood ; and our 
 
 rooms were filled nightly by poets and painters, 
 philosophers and men of science. Edinburgh was 
 the intellectual capital of the world ; and though I 
 was not the king you were queen. I am tempted 
 to turn aside from my path ; but I am not fit to be 
 king if I cannot at least fly from temptation. I take 
 it that destiny brought us together to try me.' 
 1 And me ? ' said Marjory.
 
 MARJORY MORTON 105 
 
 ' You ! ' exclaimed Ninian, stunned. ' I never 
 thought of you.' 
 
 ' Your egotism is sublime,' said Marjory. 
 
 ' Farewell,' said Ninian, turning from her sud- 
 denly, lie ran away at the top of his speed, and 
 did not slacken it until he was out of Marjory's sight. 
 She watched him vanishing and stretched out her 
 hands after him.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 COSMO AND THOMSINA 
 
 The first visitor on Friday morning at the office 
 of the Mintern Gazette was Cosmo Mortimer, dressed 
 in his own serviceable pepper-and-salt, sleepy looking 
 and rather pale for him, but ready as ever at a 
 moment's notice to theorise on anything. On arriv- 
 ing at the Provost's house he had persuaded the 
 servants that he was on their master's business. He 
 had slept for an hour or two ; at eight he had 
 breakfasted ; at half-past eight he had removed his 
 traps to the Mintern Arms ; and at nine he was 
 astonishing Mr. Adie, the editor of the Mintern 
 Gazette, with the history and theory of Ninian 
 Jamieson. 
 
 ' And now, sir,' he said, ' having made an end of 
 my introductory remarks, I come to the object of 
 my visit. I have here in the shape of a letter to 
 you an exposure of this madman couched in the
 
 COSMO AND THOMSINA 107 
 
 most sarcastic terms. It will rejoice the heart of all 
 his enemies, and be gall and wormwood to his 
 friends. Every word of it stings, and I have signed 
 it " Castigator." I believe in anonymity. The 
 ministers of Nature's justice are anonymous — flood, 
 fire, famine, and fever — and so am I, in a double sense.' 
 Cosmo was thinking of a certain Hugh Smith. 
 
 'Let me see it,' said the editor drily. 
 
 Cosmo handed over the letter. 
 
 1 On second thoughts, it's no use,' said the editor, 
 returning the manuscript without looking at it. ' 1 
 have persistently attacked the Provost because I 
 think him a most unsuitable man ' 
 
 ' Error, error ! ' burst in Cosmo. ' Magistracy is 
 what nature intended him for. Names, my dear 
 sir ' 
 
 ' I was saying,' resumed the editor, regardless of 
 the interruption, 'that Jamieson is totally unfitted for 
 the provostship, but I'm going to leave him alone in 
 the meantime, as 1 never hit a man when he's down.' 
 
 ' Down ! ' exclaimed Mortimer. 
 
 'Yes,' said the editor, picking up a proof which 
 he had been correcting when Mortimer entered the 
 shop, — ' down. Sec.' 
 
 Mortimer read the paragraph which the editor 
 indicated.
 
 io8 PERFERVID 
 
 'That's the full meaning of the name, is it?' he 
 cried in great excitement. ' This is a new light. 
 Good-morning, sir, and thank you.' 
 
 ' A new light ! ' he repeated as he hurried out of 
 the shop. ' Tullibolton House,' he said to the driver, 
 as he got into a cab. ' A new light !' he repeated to 
 himself. 
 
 Miss Mercer was at breakfast when he arrived. 
 
 ' Mr. Mortimer ! ' she exclaimed. ' I am so glad 
 to see you again, and in your own clothes.' 
 
 ' Madam,' said Mortimer, ' give me a cup of tea.' 
 
 ' Certainly, Mr. Mortimer. And how did you get 
 on with the editor ? ' 
 
 ' Madam, let me drink the tea.' 
 
 ' Surely, Mr. Mortimer, surely. You must be 
 tired. How thoughtless of me !' 
 
 ' Madam,' said Mortimer, having taken the tea at 
 a draught, ' I have news. There is something besides 
 eccentricity in the name Ninian. Jamieson I analysed 
 correctly — commercial prosperity and civic honour ; 
 but I failed with Ninian, because I have hitherto 
 omitted in my theory an element which must enter 
 into the composition of many names. Besides eccen- 
 tricity Ninian spells — what do you think ? — bank- 
 ruptcy.' 
 
 ' You startle me, Mr. Mortimer.'
 
 COSMO AND THOMSINA 109 
 
 ' The Provost is to-day a pauper.' 
 
 ' How shocking ! I understood he was very rich.' 
 
 1 He was, madam, in affluent circumstances. To- 
 day he hasn't a penny.' 
 
 ' Dear me ! What has brought about this 
 change ? ' 
 
 1 He has been speculating. I know no details, 
 but it is certain he is bankrupt. I should like to see 
 him now. I shall exult in his fall ; I shall crow 
 over him to his face. Lead me to him, madam, if 
 you please.' 
 
 ' He is not here.' 
 
 ' Not here ! ' 
 
 ' No, he went away early in the morning.' 
 
 ' Where has he gone ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know.' 
 
 ' Does Miss Morton know ? ' 
 
 ' I don't think so.' 
 
 ' But he has certainly left Tullibolton ? ' 
 
 ' There's no doubt of it.' 
 
 ' So much the better — so much the better ! He 
 will go about making a fool of himself all the longer, 
 for I would have told him of his bankruptcy had I 
 seen him — I couldn't have helped it ; and that 
 would have put an end to his campaign at once.' 
 
 ' Did you telegraph for Mr. Morton ? '
 
 no PERFERVID 
 
 ' I forgot all about it, madam.' 
 
 ' I'm just as glad since Jamieson has gone away 
 of his own accord. However, I shall write Mr. 
 Morton myself now, giving up all charge of Marjory. 
 After last night what she needs is a strait-jacket 
 and douche-baths ; an aunt is no check on her, Mr. 
 Mortimer.' 
 
 ' And what will you do then, madam ? ' 
 
 ' I'm sure I don't know, Mr. Mortimer. My re- 
 lations are tired of me long ago, and as soon as I 
 cease to be useful to them they will cast me on the 
 world without a home or a friend — with nothing but 
 my ^200 a year.' 
 
 ' Do not despond, Miss Mercer. In my opinion 
 it is desirable that you should be severed from your 
 friends and relations, because you can change your 
 name.' 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Mortimer ! ' 
 
 ' But you can. It doesn't cost a very great deal, 
 and you can go at once among strangers who will 
 never know. To attempt a change of name among 
 one's intimates is simply to stick in your hat, as it 
 were, " Jokes shot here." ' 
 
 ' Then,' said Thomsina falteringly, ' you mean 
 that I should change my name myself.' 
 
 ' Certainly, madam. I changed mine. My
 
 COSMO AM) THOMSINA i i I 
 
 patronymic was simply fatal to greatness, and my 
 Christian name a libel ; I was called Hugh Smith; 
 but I refused to be the victim of such a dastardly 
 conspiracy, and took my present name. You, 
 madam, can do the same.' 
 
 ' Oh, Mr. Mortimer ! ' 
 
 ' You can. Have you any idea what you would 
 like to be called?' 
 
 'Then,' said Thomsina, more falteringly, 'you 
 do not mean that I should take your name. I 
 thought you said I could " do the same." ' 
 
 ' If you like. The effect upon myself, madam, 
 since I became Cosmo Mortimer more than surprises 
 me. I am healthier, I am wiser, I am more cour- 
 ageous, I am better looking, and I beliewe, madam, 
 that 1 have actually grown in stature half an inch, 
 and I didn't change my name till I was thirty. But 
 it doesn't follow that Mortimer would have the same 
 effect on you as on me. Indeed, I think you'd 
 better take something else.' 
 
 'You will excuse my question,' said Thomsina 
 in a low voice, 'but the great interest you take in 
 names and in me prompts it. What do you think of 
 the ordinary method of changing women's names ~? ' 
 
 'What is that?' asked Mortimer briskly. 
 
 ' By marriage.'
 
 112 
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Ha ! ' said Mortimer, ' I am totally unable to say. 
 Mrs. Shakespeare wasn't a great woman, but Lady 
 William Russell was. There were three noteless 
 Mrs. Miltons, but one Madame Roland, one Mrs. 
 Carlyle. This is an exceedingly difficult aspect of 
 the subject, and I should say it would be impossible 
 
 to arrive at a theory without personal experience. 
 Not until I had changed my own name did I begin 
 clearly to appreciate the immense importance of 
 nomenclature. So, I should suppose, were I to take 
 a wife I would, in time, understand the effect of a 
 change of name by marriage in the characters of 
 women.'
 
 COSMO AND THOMSINA ' I i 
 
 'It would be a very interesting study,' said 
 Thomsina. 
 
 ' It would indeed,' said Cosmo. 
 He pondered, while she cut a small finger of 
 toast into a dozen pieces. 
 
 'Why did you never marry, Miss Mercer?' said 
 Cosmo. 
 
 1 Well,' she said, ' I think it was because of my 
 name. Whoever would marry a woman called 
 Thomsina ! Besides I never cared for the men 
 who wanted me, and the men didn't care for me 
 whom I wanted.' 
 
 There was some calculation in this answer : the 
 concession to Cosmo's theory in the first part of it. 
 and the common sense of the second, were not with- 
 out their result. Cosmo looked at her steadily and 
 then said, ' You would like to be capable of great- 
 ness, Miss Mercer ? ' 
 
 ' I would indeed, Mr. Mortimer.' 
 ' And I should like to try it.' 
 'To try what, Mr. Mortimer ? J ' 
 ' Marriage.' 
 ' Oh, Mr. Mortimer.' 
 
 ' I should like to make a scientific study of the 
 change in character produced in a woman by taking 
 her husband's name Mrs. Cosmo Mortimer." he 
 
 I
 
 H4 PERFERVID 
 
 murmured. ' Mrs. Cosmo Mortimer. Why, it 
 might develop genius in a rag-picker! — Madam, 
 will you be Mrs. Cosmo Mortimer ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Thomsina softly, but with a certain 
 fulness of affirmation. Cosmo stepped up promptly 
 and kissed her on the cheek, then he looked earnestly 
 into her eyes as if expecting to see signs of a change 
 in her character already. She dropped her eyelids 
 and laid her hand on his ; he kissed her hand, and 
 resumed his seat ; she mechanically finished her 
 toast, and he watched her in silence. Thomsina 
 grew very uncomfortable, and Cosmo was beginning 
 to think of something to say — usually a needless 
 preliminary with him — when Marjory entered the 
 room. She bowed to Cosmo and wished her aunt 
 good-morning. 
 
 ' Good-morning, Marjory,' said Thomsina. ' The 
 diamond brooch is mine.' 
 
 ' How so ? ' 
 
 ' The Provost is bankrupt.' 
 
 ' Bankrupt ! ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Thomsina. ' Wild as you are, you 
 will hardly wed a pauper.' 
 
 ' Bankrupt ! ' repeated Marjory, sighing like one 
 before whom a beautiful vision fades away. 
 
 ' I will wear the brooch at my marriage.'
 
 I i »SM< » AND THOMSINA 115 
 
 ' At your marriage ! ' said Marjory with wide eyes. 
 
 'Miss Morton,' said Cosmo, 'your aunt is to be 
 Mrs. Cosmo Mortimer.' 
 
 • I wish you joy,' said Marjory, looking from one 
 to the other, amazed and amused. Then she left 
 the room, suppressing a laugh. 
 
 ' Cosmo,' said Thomsina after she had gone, ' do 
 you love me very much ? ' 
 
 ' What ! ' cried Cosmo, starting from his seat. 
 ' Do I love you ? Love ! — Madam, madam, do you 
 know what love is ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Thomsina, ' I will love my husband.' 
 
 ' Love vour husband ! Madam, such talk is 
 intolerable between persons of our age.' 
 
 ' Then, why do you wish to marry me ? ' 
 
 ■ I have told you, madam : to study the effect of 
 my name upon you. I thought you understood that 
 clearly. You sec, you are a most suitable subject. 
 You have lived for many years under an abominable 
 name, by which your character has been reduced to 
 zero, so that the slightest upward tendency will be 
 visible at once. You are old enough — at least, I 
 thought you were — to perceive the nonsense of love 
 and all that sort of thing. I wish to marry you as 
 an experiment in a science of which I am the 
 discoverer — a science calculated to revolutionise the
 
 n6 PERFERVID 
 
 world. The name equates the character : raise the 
 power of the name and you raise that of the char- 
 acter. Don't you see, man ? ' cried Cosmo enthus- 
 iastically, forgetting the sex of his hearer. ' All the 
 sin and misery, the folly and madness of the world, 
 is the result of nomenclature. Look here. Take a 
 dozen burglars ; give them five years each, and let 
 them out again under their own names : ten of them 
 will be sentenced to ten years within as many months. 
 Take another dozen burglars, and let the Home 
 Secretary change their names ; he might call Sikes, 
 Wilberforce — Fagin, Howard — and so on ; give 
 them no punishment, no police supervision : I tell 
 you within six months every one of the twelve will 
 have honest money in the savings-bank — I know 
 it. And the world in its heart knows it. How 
 could it have produced the proverb " Call a man a 
 thief and he'll steal" if it didn't? And the Popes 
 know it. Why else do they change their names on 
 their elevation ? And titles ! Think of titles. 
 When you make a man a duke, do you think it 
 doesn't change his character ? I tell you if you 
 were to take a small village in France and change 
 the names of all the inhabitants to Smith, Brown, 
 Jones, Robinson, and so on, within six months that 
 village would be dining on beef-steak and Bass's
 
 COSMO AND THOMSINA I '7 
 
 beer and taking in the Times. The world's all 
 wrone from the Czar of Russia to the anarchist who 
 flings a bomb into a children's hospital. Look here, 
 man : call earth heaven, and raise the power of every 
 other name in proportion, and you would have heaven.' 
 
 ' Then, Mr. Mortimer, you don't love me ? ' 
 
 ' I should think not ! I have no objection to the 
 word " love," either as a noun or as a verb, but I 
 have insuperable objections to what is understood by 
 love, and more especially to what women understand 
 by love. You see ' 
 
 ' Mr. Mortimer,' said Miss Mercer, rising — and 
 anger made her beautiful, — ' I am not a young 
 woman, and I am vain and foolish, but I will never 
 marry a man who thinks of love as you do. I long 
 to be a bride, and I long to be a wife, and to be a 
 mother, but I feel that all that is nothing to the love 
 of a man. I thank you, Mr. Mortimer, for the offer 
 of your name. Good-bye.' 
 
 She swept out of the room, as red as a rose and 
 as lovely as her niece. She sobbed for half an hour, 
 and then sought Marjory. 
 
 ' You have been crying, aunt,' said Marjory. 
 
 ' And so have you,' said Thomsina. 
 
 Quickly these two women, more than indifferent 
 before, found a way into each other's hearts.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 NINIAN AND MARJORY 
 
 COSMO, disgusted with Thomsina's unscientific spirit, 
 drove back to Mintern, soliloquising all the way. 
 
 ' Women,' he said, ' are fools. The only hope 
 for them is to change their appellation. Look at 
 George Sand, George Eliot, Currer Bell ! It was 
 only by imagining themselves men that those women 
 wrote their great novels ; and the softer sex cannot 
 be hardened until the word " woman " is abolished, 
 and the word " man " substituted for it. All children 
 must be called boys, and all adults men. It's in- 
 fallible. Change the name and you change the thing. 
 There's no getting over that. I am astonished that 
 the importance of theory has never been recognised. 
 Make a generalisation, believe it, act upon it, and 
 there you are ! ' 
 
 In this strain he continued until he arrived at the 
 Mintern Arms. After lunch he went to fish, and
 
 NINIAN AND MARJORY 119 
 
 lashed the water till five o'clock, catching nothing 
 with much theoretical satisfaction. On his way 
 home a voice hailed him. He looked behind, and 
 saw a tall figure in a long waterproof running 
 towards him. It was the Provost. 
 
 ' Well, Cosmo,' said Ninian, when he came up to 
 him, ' I hope you've had good sport.' 
 
 ' I have,' said Cosmo. ' I hadn't a single rise, 
 and I've caught a cold.' 
 
 ' I'm very glad,' said Ninian, laughing. ' By the 
 bye, have you any theory about putting your hand 
 to the plough and turning back ? ' 
 
 ' I have,' said Cosmo. ' I could expound it 
 better, however, if you would give me the example 
 that occurs to you.' 
 
 ' It is myself. I am, as you see, returning, and 
 you know how little is accomplished.' 
 ' I must know why you arc returning.' 
 ' Certainly. I left Tullibolton House very early 
 this morning and walked rapidly for two hours. 
 Then I began to be hungry, so I went into a little 
 cottage by the wayside and supped two plates of 
 porridge which I found sitting on the kitchen table. 
 I had just finished when a young couple came in 
 together. The wife had made the porridge and 
 then gone out for her husband, who was working in
 
 120 PERFERVID 
 
 a field at hand. They were too much surprised, and 
 even awed, to say anything. I apologised for the 
 liberty I had taken ; said they would be no losers 
 by me, and remembered that I hadn't a farthing. 
 This confused me a little, which the ploughman 
 observed. He said, " You'll be one o' these circus 
 billies, I'm thinkin' ; but there's naebody here gaun 
 tae laugh at your tricks. Pay doon a saxpence, or 
 come oot and fecht." Now, though I never went 
 twice a week to the Bois de Boulogne, I can box a 
 bit, Cosmo, so I accepted his challenge. One round 
 was sufficient, as the good fellow had no science ; 
 and I rather astonished him by holding his wife with 
 my left hand — for she attacked me tooth and nail — 
 while I settled him with my right. I cut off one of 
 my buttons and gave it to the woman, telling her it 
 was worth many sixpences, shook hands with her 
 husband, and went on my way. Something led me 
 to Dunmyatt, and I spent the forenoon on the top 
 of it. On the way down a new idea occurred to me. 
 Stirling Castle, which is the noblest feature in the 
 view from Dunmyatt, suggested it. " What a mag- 
 nificent residence for a king ! " I thought. You 
 know I am now going to confine my ambition to 
 Scotland. " From the windows of that palace a 
 Scottish king can look on half his realm, with the
 
 MM AX AND MARJORY 121 
 
 broad Forth winding slowly to the Scottish sea. 
 Stirling Bridge and Bannockburn are at his feet. In 
 
 all the world there is no such home for a patriot 
 king. Could I not take up my abode in the town, 
 form a party in the garrison, and seize the castle ? 
 To be King of Scotland for one week, for one day 
 in Stirling Castle, with the block for a pillow at 
 night, would be worth more to me than any life 
 lived in this century." I resolved to make the 
 attempt, and then came in the question of money 
 and of the proofs of my descent. Could I go on as 
 I had started, and without my documents ? I could 
 write for some money, but in the meantime what 
 was I to do? It was neither documents, however, 
 nor the money so much as a ring I had forgotten 
 that decided me. As I could not bear to fail 
 ignominiously, or to perish meanly, I have provided 
 myself with poison in a ring. I forgot it in the 
 hurry last night, and for that I have returned. I 
 went down to Blairlogie, bought this old waterproof 
 with another button — it was necessary to hide my 
 dress as I had changed my plan — and here I am. 
 Now what do you think of my turning back ? ' 
 
 ' I haven't got all the data,' said Cosmo. ' What 
 were you thinking of all the forenoon on the top of 
 Dunmyatt ? '
 
 122 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Ha ! I was dreaming, dreaming.' 
 
 ' Of what ? ' 
 
 ' Of being king in Holyrood.' 
 
 ' And as you came down the hill your dream 
 changed to Stirling.' 
 
 ' It did.' 
 
 ' And who was your queen in this dream of 
 yours ? ' 
 
 ' My queen ! ' exclaimed Ninian, blushing. 
 
 ' Of course. " Find the woman " is an ancient 
 saying.' 
 
 • It's of no consequence. I've dreamt of hundreds 
 of women in my life, and thought I loved some, but 
 I'm a bachelor still.' 
 
 ' I can tell who was your queen. It was Marjory 
 Morton, and she is the cause of your turning back, 
 and not your ring, or your documents, or the want 
 of money. I will wager half my salary that you 
 purpose setting out for Stirling to-night by way of 
 Tullibolton House.' 
 
 'Cosmo, you are a wise fool. That is my inten- 
 tion. What do you think now ? ' 
 
 ' That your turning back is fatal to your plan.' 
 
 'Why? Because of Marjory ?' 
 
 ' No ; because of money. Had the desire to find 
 a means of seeing Marjory again not suggested an
 
 NINIAN AND MARJORY 123 
 
 errand back to M intern you would have gone on, 
 trusting to your pistol for an emergency such as you 
 fear, without money and without documents, to some 
 end. Now you have made money the basis of your 
 plan, and you will fail — fail immediately.' 
 
 ' Why do you think so ? — But here we are at 
 my house. You can explain yourself further when 
 we go in.' 
 
 ' I'm not going in.' 
 
 ' Oh yes, you are ! ' 
 
 ' But I have ordered dinner at the Mintern Arms.' 
 
 ' Never mind. Come away. You must come.' 
 
 ' Well,' thought Cosmo, ' I want to see how he 
 takes his bankruptcy ; but I'll submit to no more 
 hectoring.' 
 
 Having satisfied his vanity with this resolution 
 he accompanied Ninian. They entered at the back 
 and passed through the kitchen. 
 
 ' Is dinner ready ? ' Ninian asked. 
 
 ' Yes, sir,' answered the cook. 
 
 ' How ! ' exclaimed Cosmo. ' Did they know 
 you were coming ? ' 
 
 : No.' 
 
 ' Then why have they prepared dinner ? ' 
 
 ' You forget. I am only one in this house. My 
 presence or absence never affects the dinner.'
 
 124 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Well,' thought Cosmo, snuffing the air, ' I'll let 
 him have one good dinner before the deluge.' 
 
 ' And now,' said Ninian in the study after dinner, 
 ' you say that I must fail because I am trusting to 
 my money.' 
 
 ' I say so,' said Cosmo. ' 1 have an intuitive 
 feeling — something like prophecy, perhaps — that 
 your wealth is as unstable as your dreams, and will 
 take to itself wings.' 
 
 ' Have you no theory ? ' 
 
 ' Not in this case ; instinct, pure and simple.' 
 
 1 But surely you could make a theory. I am in 
 the humour to be amused. And that reminds me 
 that you haven't your fool's dress on, Master Cosmo ; 
 and that you ran away from Tullibolton, Master 
 Cosmo ; and I shall require to punish you, Master 
 Cosmo, but I bear you no ill-will, remember. I can 
 whip you when {you change your dress. Come 
 upstairs." 
 
 1 I will not change my dress, and you shall not 
 whip me.' 
 
 ' Now, what an ass you are ! You know perfectly 
 well that you will have to do just as I like.' 
 
 ' Never again, Master Jamieson. You have over- 
 shot yourself, Master Jamieson ; you are bought and
 
 NINIAN AM) MARJORY 125 
 
 sold, Master Jamieson. I sec an ominous missive 
 on your desk, Master Jamieson ; you had better 
 read it.' 
 
 From several unopened letters Cosmo chose one 
 in a large blue envelope with the London postmark 
 and handed it to Ninian, who took it in a dazed 
 way. Staring blankly at Cosmo he opened the 
 envelope, and then with a shiver turned his eyes on 
 the letter. After reading it twice he staggered from 
 the room, crushing the letter with both hands. In a 
 few minutes he returned, followed by the pretty 
 maid-servant with a decanter of the ' Dunmyatt 
 Whisk}- ' and two horns. Having filled the horns 
 she withdrew. Ninian was very white, but he now 
 walked with a firm step. He took from his desk a 
 roll of manuscript, and before sitting down handed 
 one of the horns to Cosmo, who noticed for the first 
 time a large ring with a bloodstone on the Provost's 
 left hand. 
 
 ' My very good friend,' said Ninian, ' let us pledge 
 each other.' 
 
 He emptied his horn, but Cosmo drank only a 
 little of his. 
 
 ' My money and my dreams have melted away,' 
 said Ninian. ' My imagination, like a bird plunged 
 suddenly into a dungeon, dashes blindly against
 
 126 PERFERVID 
 
 stony blackness. It is hard — it is terrible. Do 
 you not think it possible ? Do you believe that if 
 I had spent my whole capital, my hundred and fifty 
 thousand, in bribing the garrison that I couldn't 
 have reigned in Stirling for one day ? You neither 
 know me nor the power of money if you think so. 
 All gone — all gone ! My father left it safe ; why 
 wasn't I content ? Cosmo, keep clear of Asiatic 
 coal and gold.' 
 
 ' You forget. I have an annuity.' 
 
 ' An annuity : ay, you are wise. Perhaps you 
 think of writing my life, Cosmo. I charge you not 
 to do so. If you speak of me at all, say that I had 
 the faults of the Stuarts, but that I knew it and 
 strove to conquer them. Should any one in your 
 hearing talk of me as mad, say to him that I was 
 not mad, but that after reading two thousand novels 
 I learnt who I was : that, I think, will explain my 
 mistakes. This is my pedigree,' he said with a faint 
 smile, shaking out the manuscript which he held in 
 his hand. ' It is useless now, as I have no heir.' 
 
 He glanced through the pages, and then lighting 
 them with a match burnt them to ashes. 
 
 ' You will go to-morrow to Tullibolton and tell 
 Marjory that I loved her.' 
 
 When he had said that Ninian raised his left
 
 NINIAN AND MARJORY 127 
 
 hand to his mouth. Cosmo heard a slight click 
 and sprang towards him. At the same time wheels 
 sounded on the gravel outside. Ninian's hand fell, 
 and something dropped lightly on the floor. 
 
 ' Who can it be ? ' he said hoarsely. 
 
 He stood listening ; and Cosmo watched him 
 silently until the footman came. 
 
 • A lady to see you, sir,' he said. 
 
 ' Who is it ? ' 
 
 ' She won't give her name.' 
 
 Ninian rushed to the drawing-room and found 
 Marjory Morton. 
 
 ' I did not think you would be at home. I had 
 no intention of seeing you when I called,' she 
 said. 
 
 She was standing in the centre of the room, one 
 hand clutching the other convulsively. Her hair 
 had lost its curl and hung in tangles ; her lips were 
 white and thin, and the roundness seemed gone from 
 her cheeks ; but her eyes shone. Ninian, looking 
 in her face, touched her on the shoulder and stepped 
 back. 
 
 ' I hardly know why I am here,' she continued. 
 ' The servant said you were at home and I came in. 
 I wanted to leave something, and asked, without 
 thinking, when you would be home, and the
 
 \2$ PERFERVID 
 
 servant said you were in. Oh ! I have brought you 
 some money I don't need.' 
 
 She took some money from her pocket and laid 
 it on a table with an inlaid marble top. In doing 
 so her eyes caught a crack in one of the pieces, and 
 she traced it carefully with her finger-nail. 
 
 ' Good-bye,' she said, looking up. 
 
 ' Why have you brought me money ? ' asked 
 Ninian. 
 
 ' You are bankrupt, are you not ? ' 
 
 1 How should you know ? — I am.' 
 
 ' Then you must be needing money.' 
 
 ' But ' 
 
 ' Ask me nothing. Let me go.' 
 
 She had seized the door-handle before Ninian 
 could stop her. When she felt his grasp on her arm 
 she stood passively. 
 
 ' Marjory,' said Ninian, with his mouth at her 
 ear. 
 
 She turned and tried to look at him, but her 
 eyelids fell in spite of an effort that made her tremble 
 from head to foot. 
 
 ' Marjory,' he said again. 
 
 Paler than before, and shaking, she leant against 
 the door. Ninian gathered her up in his arms. He 
 also shook, and stumbling into a low chair nearly
 
 \I.\IA\ AND MARJORY 129 
 
 let her fall ; she felt him reeling and clasped him 
 instinctively. 
 
 ' Marjory,' he said a third time. 
 
 Her month was still sealed, but she did not relax 
 her grasp ; her eyes were tightly closed — so tightly 
 that her brows were contracted. He bent over her 
 and sought through her eyelids for her eyes ; he 
 searched her brow in a strong endeavour to fathom 
 her mind ; he kissed her mouth, hoping to reach her 
 heart — a long kiss, for she did not move until he 
 raised his head to look at her. He marvelled at the 
 change. Her eyes were closed but a tear hung on 
 each eyelid ; a deep blush had restored the form to 
 her cheek, and her lips had grown full and red ; her 
 very hair had come alive again, the gold about her 
 temples shone, and the tangles began to crisp. She 
 opened her eyes slowly, the long lashes shook off 
 the teardrops, and the black living pupil filled up 
 the whole iris. He felt a beam of light pass from 
 her eyes to his and bent to kiss her again, but she 
 hid her face in his breast. Then they said the 
 things that lovers say. 
 
 ' Did you love me at the first ? ' said she. 
 
 ' I loved you from the moment I saw you. And 
 you ? ' 
 
 ' I haven't slept since I met you at midnight.' 
 
 K
 
 1 30 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Did you really not expect to find me here ? ' 
 
 ' Really. I wished to be some place where you 
 had been. I wished to do something connected 
 with you. There's fifty pounds. It's not very 
 much, but it may help you a little. I had thirty, 
 and aunt lent me twenty.' 
 
 ' Your aunt ? I thought she objected to me.' 
 
 ' But aunt and I are friends now.' 
 
 ' Fifty pounds,' mused Ninian, smiling. ' Dear — 
 my dear ! ' 
 
 ' I suppose bankrupts are very poor ? ' 
 
 ' Sometimes.' 
 
 ' Are you very poor ? ' 
 
 1 Very' 
 
 ' I'm very poor too. I've got nothing now, and I 
 owe aunt twenty pounds. But I'm glad I'm poor, 
 and I'm glad you're poor. You'll never mind being 
 king now, dear.' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' But you'll show me the documents.' 
 
 ' They are burned.' 
 
 ' Burned ! And were you coming to me ? ' 
 
 1 No.' 
 
 ' What were you going to do ? ' 
 
 ' I'll tell you when we're married.' 
 
 At that moment had their ears not been throbbing
 
 NINIAN AND MARJORY l 3 1 
 
 with their own blood they would have heard Cosmo 
 stealing from the door and muttering, 'It is this 
 love that spoils greatness, and eccentricity.' He 
 returned to the study and picked from the floor a 
 small blue crystal. Having wrapped it in a bit of 
 an old letter he placed it in his vest pocket. Then 
 he finished his whisk}' and left the house un- 
 observed.
 
 PART II 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE OF STRONGSOUL 
 AND SAUNDERS ELSHANDER
 
 2 
 
 as 
 
 O 
 
 a 
 X 
 
 a 
 
 X
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE GREAT MEN 
 
 In a back room in a quiet street in Edinburgh on 
 a December night, some ten or twelve years after 
 Ninian's campaign, five men sat round a table 
 smoking churchwarden pipes and drinking whisky- 
 toddy. It was an old-fashioned room with an old- 
 fashioned fireplace ; and the fire was old-fashioned 
 too, for it was wood that the Great Men burned. 
 The)- had a contract with a turner, and got from 
 him all his waste birch. What a fire it makes — 
 clear, red, and strong — and the ash like powdery 
 snow ! Then the smell of its burning, so delicate 
 and pungent ! ' Frankincense ! ' Cosmo Mortimer 
 burst out once. ' Birch-wood as far surpasses incense 
 as a Scotch lassie surpasses the world. Gentlemen, 
 there is an aroma '- —passing his hand across the fire, 
 and wafting the smoke to the nostrils of the Great 
 Men — ' a sweet homely smell of the mountain and
 
 136 PERFERVID 
 
 the flood in the smoke of birch — a fleeting memory 
 of everything high and noble, and beautiful and true, 
 in the life of the Scotch people and the history of 
 the Scotch nation.' 
 
 But Cosmo was not present on the night in 
 question. His armchair stood vacant at the head of 
 the table, and the other members of the club he had 
 formed waited with dull impatience for his arrival. 
 The wind rumbled in the chimney, and the snow, 
 like flights of white moths drawn to the light, 
 thudded softly against the window. 
 
 ' Cosmo was never late before,' said a melancholy- 
 looking Great Man, who smoked with extreme 
 gravity and regularity, and moistened his lips with 
 whisky-toddy at every sixth puff. 
 
 ' It's twenty minutes past the hour,' said the 
 Great Man who was secretary, looking a very large 
 gold watch, and speaking with the confidence of one 
 who knows that he is stating a fact. 
 
 ' He's very late,' said a timid Great Man, hastily 
 snatching from those who had not yet spoken that 
 view of the subject. 
 
 ' The very thing I was about to say,' said the 
 fourth Great Man, smiling triumphantly, for he knew 
 that he had forestalled the fifth Great Man. 
 
 What the fifth Great Man thought of saying after
 
 THE GREAT MEN 137 
 
 his intended contribution to the conversation had 
 been stolen can never be known, for, while he was 
 still pondering a new remark, Cosmo entered the 
 room in a huge great-coat which stuck out very 
 much on one side. 
 
 They rose to receive him, and the secretary said 
 In the form prescribed by the rules of the club, 
 1 The Great Men are all met,' whereupon the 
 melancholy Great Man who was honorary porter 
 locked the door and closed the shutters. Then they 
 resumed their seats. Cosmo, looking mysteriously 
 at the faces of the Great Men, took from under his 
 overcoat a little barrel, and placed it ceremoniously 
 on the table. Having divested himself of his wraps 
 he warmed his hands at the fire, and sank into the 
 president's chair. 
 
 ' Fresh glasses,' he said. 
 
 The timid Great Man, who was honorary steward, 
 took from a cupboard six large old-fashioned rum- 
 mers and set them on the table. 
 
 ' The corkscrew — the large one ; a filler and a 
 bottle,' said the president. 
 
 The honorary steward, standing on tip-toe, un- 
 hooked from the wall an instrument like a twisted 
 dagger, and produced the other articles from the 
 cupboard. The bung was removed, the bottle filled,
 
 i -zS PERFERYID 
 
 and the rummers filled from the bottle ; it was a 
 quart bottle but it had to be replenished, for the six 
 rummers held half a gallon. 
 
 Then the president rose, rummer in hand, and the 
 five Great Men followed his example. 
 
 ' This,' said Cosmo with emotion, ' is the " Dun- 
 myatt Whisky." I propose the health of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Ninian Jamieson.' 
 
 Cosmo drank slowly about an inch of his rum- 
 mer and sat down ; and the other Great Men did 
 likewise. They had heard of the ' Dunmyatt 
 Whisky,' and they knew the history of Ninian 
 Jamieson — Cosmo's version. Their excitement was 
 intense ; their curiosity boundless. Cosmo liked the 
 situation. He sipped his rummer twice, and held it 
 to his nose, inhaling the fragrance of the famous 
 whisky. ' There are only ten barrels left,' he sighed. 
 At length he spoke up briskly. ' This morning I 
 took a run north to Mintern, to find out how Jamie- 
 son had sot on. You remember the last news we 
 had — his resignation of the provostship ? Well, I 
 called at his house, and who should be at the window 
 but his wife, Marjory Morton that was, Mrs. Ninian 
 Jamieson that is. She was, of course, very glad to 
 see me, and gave me at once a glass of the " Dun- 
 myatt." We talked away brilliantly until Jamieson
 
 THE GREAT MIA i 39 
 
 came in. I shook hands with him, gentlemen, as if 
 we had never been anything but the closest friends, 
 and he seemed much relieved. I stayed for dinner. 
 It was a dinner very unlike those which I had 
 formerly eaten in that house, but it was quite good. 
 We dined at two ; there was only one servant, and 
 she didn't sit at the table. Everything is on a 
 reduced scale, and more than half the house is shut 
 up. After dinner Ninian told me how they had 
 gone to Perth and been married by the Sheriff. 
 They seemed quite happy ; in fact I envied Ninian, 
 for his wife is a glorious creature, and I can't 
 imagine how I let her slip through my fingers. 
 When I came away he made me a present of this 
 barrel.' 
 
 ' And Thomsina ? ' said the melancholy man. 
 
 'Oh! she has taken a house in Mintern, ordered 
 half a dozen mob-caps, and is going to set up old 
 maid.' 
 
 'Did all Jamieson's money go?' asked the 
 secretary. 
 
 ' No ; some hundreds were saved.' 
 
 'And how's he living?' asked the honorary 
 steward in his timid hurried way, again forestalling 
 the other two. 
 
 'That's just what I was going to ask,' said the
 
 140 PERFERVID 
 
 fourth man, taking the words out of the fifth man's 
 lips for the second time. 
 
 ' Well, gentlemen,' said Cosmo, measuring his 
 words in a manner very unusual with him, ' Ninian 
 Jamieson may, I think, be said to be at last develop- 
 ing greatness. The only means of making a liveli- 
 hood with which he has any practical acquaintance 
 is the grocer trade. So he opened a shop in Min- 
 tern, and has a good custom although he doesn't sell 
 " Dunmyatt Whisky." I think it an exceedingly 
 darin"" thing to do in the town where he had been 
 envied and caressed. Yet there he is selling tea and 
 sugar across his counter ' 
 
 ' Like an ancient Roman,' said the fifth man with 
 an illuminated countenance, speaking for the first 
 time. 
 
 ' No, sir,' said Cosmo severely, ' like a modern 
 Scot.' 
 
 But the fifth man was not quenched. Certain 
 this time that he had hit on something that had not 
 occurred to the others, he asked with the dignity of 
 a judge, ' Have they any children ? ' 
 
 Cosmo did not answer immediately. He sipped 
 his whisky, looked dreamily at the ceiling, pushed 
 back his chair and then said, ' I'll tell you a 
 story.'
 
 tiik <;ki:\t mkx 14 1 
 
 Two of the Great Men buttoned their coats, and 
 three of them unbuttoned their vests ; they filled 
 their pipes, drank half an inch of whisky each, and 
 assumed various easy or uneasy postures. Then 
 without any prelude Cosmo began.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 
 
 ON one of the paths that wind about Dunmyatt, 
 at four o'clock on a June morning, a little boy walked 
 slowly, bearing a heavy burden on his back. Larks 
 were shouting in the sky, and in and out of the 
 clefts in the rocks gray-cowled jackdaws flew croak- 
 ing and screaming. The little boy trudged wearily 
 along, seeing and hearing nothing, his head bent 
 forward like an old man's. With one hand he sup- 
 ported his burden, for the rope that tied it round his 
 waist and shoulders had slackened. In his other 
 hand he carried a stick of oak, which he used at 
 every step to help him on. It was no wonder he 
 was tired, for he had been on the road since two 
 o'clock that morning. Still he would not give in, 
 and he tottered along the winding sheep-path, gasp- 
 ing for breath, and with the sweat running down his 
 face. He was a strong little boy ; his legs were like
 
 C( iSMO MORTIMER'S ST< >UY 
 
 '43 
 
 little oak-trees. He would have gone on until he 
 dropped had he not met another boy on the sheep- 
 path. The other boy was much taller, and carried, 
 rolled up under his arm, a white apron. He was a 
 shepherd's son, apprenticed to a grocer, on his wax- 
 
 to open his master's shop in Tullibody, a village 
 
 about two miles from Dunmyatt. 
 
 The grocer's boy said, ' Whaur are ye gaun ? ' 
 The little boy looked at him very closely and 
 
 said, ' Who are you ? '
 
 i 44 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Never you mind. Tell me whaur ye're gaun.' 
 
 ' I'm going away to the west,' said the little boy. 
 
 ' I see that. But whaur tae ? ' 
 
 ' I don't like to tell you. If I knew who you 
 were I might. Are you Obstinate ? ' 
 
 ' Eh ? ' said the grocer's boy angrily. ' What dae 
 ye mean ? ' 
 
 ' You can't be Pliable,' said the little boy, ' be- 
 cause you're too gruff; but then you seem to be 
 coming the wrong way. You're not Evangelist, are 
 
 you ?' 
 
 Look here, my mannie, nane o' your impidence, 
 or I'll heave ye owre the hill. It strikes me ye've 
 been daein' what ye shouldna. What hae ye in 
 that bag ? ' 
 
 ' I wish I knew who you were,' said the little boy. 
 
 ' I'm Saunders Elshander, the son o' Rab Tam- 
 son's shepherd. Wha are you ? ' 
 
 ' I'm not very sure,' said the little boy. 
 
 ' No ! ' said Saunders, bursting into a loud laugh ; 
 ' mebbe the polis would mak' ye surer than ye're 
 carin' tae be. What hae ye in that bag ? ' 
 
 The little boy looked at the ground and then, 
 raising his head, said with much gravity, ' My sins.' 
 
 ' I'm thinkin' sae,' said Saunders. ' Whaur did ye 
 steal them ? '
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY M5 
 
 The little boy's eyes blazed and he grasped his 
 
 stick tightly ; but he answered quietly, ' I didn't steal 
 them. They are my sins. I am a pilgrim, and this 
 is my burden.' 
 
 ' Ye'rc a strange one,' said Saunders ; ' come, let's 
 see what ye've got' 
 
 Saunders laid hold of the rope and untied the 
 burden. ' Losh bless me, it's a pillowslip ! ' he cried. 
 
 The little boy was inclined to resist, but he seemed 
 to be in a difficulty ; so he allowed his burden to be 
 examined. The first thing Saunders pulled out was 
 some shavings. These he threw up in the air, and 
 the wind caught them and blew them down the 
 hillside. Then he pulled out a broken poker, which 
 he pitched away. Several pieces of firewood came 
 next. ' I've nae time tae waste,' he said, taking up 
 the pillowslip and shaking out its contents. With a 
 piece of the firewood he raked among them, but 
 finding nothing of much value he kicked and tossed 
 even-thing down the hillside. 
 
 ' Man,' he said, ' thae's no worth stcalin'.' 
 
 But the little boy had taken a book from his 
 pocket, and was turning over its pages very eagerly. 
 
 ' Ma ccrtie ! ' said Saunders, ' ye'rc the strangest 
 laddie I ever met in wi'. What's this ye've gotten 
 noo ? ' 
 
 L
 
 146 PERFERVID 
 
 He snatched the book, and, turning to the first 
 page, read the title, The Pilgrim's Progress. 
 
 ' Ay, man,' he added with a sneer, ' an' sae ye 
 read The Pilgrim's Progress, dae ye ? My granny 
 reads it. What's it aboot ? ' 
 
 He turned over its pages carelessly, and then 
 threw it away after the contents of the pillowslip, 
 saying, ' Ye can ging after your bookie, if ye like.' 
 
 Immediately the little boy dealt him a thundering 
 blow on the head with his oaken stick, and shouted 
 at the same time, ' I know you now. You are 
 Apollyon disguised as a grocer's boy. Come on, 
 for I fear you not' 
 
 He hit Saunders another rap on the head, and 
 followed it up with a third. Then Saunders, who, 
 although he delighted in mischief, was not a coward, 
 turned with a roar and wrenched the stick from the 
 little boy's hand, but it slipped from his grasp and 
 rolled down the hill a little way. The two stood 
 facing each other for several seconds, the little boy 
 quite undaunted, and the other wondering how much 
 damage he would have to sustain before conquering 
 his opponent. Determined to have the fight over at 
 once, he put in two rapid and heavy blows on the 
 little boy's face. The little boy lowered his head, 
 and butting Saunders in the stomach upset him ;
 
 148 PERFERVID 
 
 but, being unable to stop his rush, he fell upon him, 
 and both rolled down the hill. The little boy was 
 being severely mauled when his hand touched the 
 stick. He seized it, and with a great effort wriggled 
 himself free. Springing to his feet he whirled the 
 stick round his head and brought it down with all 
 his might on Saunders's nose, shouting at the same 
 time, ' Have at you, fiend ! ' He raised the stick 
 for another blow, but his enemy lay stunned, so 
 fiercely had the little fellow struck him. With a 
 look of satisfaction the conqueror kicked the fallen 
 Saunders in the ribs, and then crawled down the hill- 
 side after his book. He had no difficulty in finding 
 it, and he also succeeded in recovering a pair of shoes, 
 two pairs of stockings, and a jacket. With these he 
 climbed up the hill again, and found Saunders leaning 
 on his elbow and wiping his bloody swollen face with 
 his grocer's apron. 
 
 1 Ye wee teeger ! ' he groaned. ' If I get a hold 
 o' ye I'll murder ye.' 
 
 The little boy was very much disappointed, for he 
 thought he had killed him ; but he took his stick and 
 shouted, ' Come on, then.' 
 
 ' Lay doon that rung an' come an' help me. Is 
 there ony water aboot ? ' 
 
 The little boy laid down his stick, put his hands
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 149 
 
 in his pockets, and stared at Saunders with unaffected 
 amazement, and so solemnly that Saunders, in spite 
 of his wounds and bruises, burst out laughing. 
 
 ' Man,' he said, ' ye mind me o' a thing ma granny 
 says — 
 
 ' •• The gravest fish's an oyster, 
 The gravest bird's an owl : 
 The gravest beast's an ass, 
 The gravest man's a fool." 
 
 Here the little boy tottered and fell down as 
 white as a ghost. The sudden excitement of the 
 meeting with Saunders had made him forget his 
 fatigue ; but now his long walk, his exertions in the 
 fight, and his empty stomach — for he had eaten 
 nothing since the previous night — overcame him 
 utterly. He did not faint, but he was very sick and 
 weak. 
 
 ' Hech, man ! ' cried Saunders ; ' what's this noo ? 
 Hac ye seen green cheese that your een reel that 
 gait ? ' 
 
 'I'm not well,' said the little boy. lie put out 
 his hand for his book, but he was unable to reach it. 
 Saunders handed it to him, and the little boy read in 
 it for a minute. Saunders looked on in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 When he had done reading he closed his book
 
 150 PERFERVID 
 
 and said, ' I have made a mistake ; you are not 
 Apollyon.' 
 
 ' I dinna ken,' said Saunders ; ' wha was he ? ' 
 
 • Apollyon is one of the names of the devil,' 
 answered the little boy. 
 
 ' Weel, it's the first time I've been mista'en for 
 the de'il, though it's no the first time I've been 
 called one.' 
 
 ' Saunders Elshander,' said the little boy, rising up 
 with the help of his stick, ' I humbly beg your 
 pardon.' 
 
 He held out his hand, and Saunders, rising, took 
 it and said, ' It's a' richt' 
 
 Then they looked at each other for a minute. 
 Then Saunders said, ' I think there's water at the 
 foot o' the brae.' 
 
 With that he took his apron and the little boy's 
 jacket and shoes and stockings and put them into 
 the pillowslip. The little boy got hold of his stick 
 and his book, and Saunders gave him his arm, and 
 they went down the hill in a zig-zag way till they 
 came to a little stream. There they washed them- 
 selves and drank, and Saunders took out of his 
 pocket some bread and cheese and gave half of it to 
 the little boy ; and when the little boy had eaten it 
 he fell fast asleep.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 151 
 
 Now Saunders was in a difficulty. Should he go 
 to the shop at once, or should he wait until his late 
 enemy waked? If he were to run all the way he 
 could not now be in time to open the shop. 1 le felt 
 certain also that his master would not allow him to 
 serve customers, or even to go errands, with his 
 swollen head and nose, for he had seen his face in a 
 pool and had been quite scared by it. His nose 
 seemed to have spread oxer his face, and his head 
 looked like a lumpy potato. Still he felt that he 
 oucdit to £0 and let his master know what had 
 befallen him as soon as possible. His master would 
 cuff him soundly ; but Saunders was no coward, 
 lie shrugged his shoulders with a rueful look, how- 
 ever, when he thought of his father and a certain 
 stick which stood in the chimney-corner, and of his 
 grandmother, whose tongue was even more terrible to 
 him than his father's stick. He looked at his com- 
 panion, and was quite ashamed to see what a pair of 
 black c)-cs he had given him — a little fellow, only 
 two-thirds of his size. He felt his arms and legs, 
 and then felt his own, and was not quite so much 
 ashamed. The little boy's shoulders, too, were so 
 broad, and he had such a look of strength and deter- 
 mination, even in his sleep, that Saunders came to 
 the conclusion that by the time they were both men
 
 152 PERFERVID 
 
 the little boy would be much more than a match for 
 him. Then his eyes wandered over the hillside, and 
 he saw some of the wood and things that he had 
 tumbled out of the pillowship, and he at once set to 
 work to gather as many of them as he could. He 
 got together almost everything except the shavings, 
 and filled the pillowslip again. He felt quite happy 
 when he had done this, and sat down beside the little 
 boy, who still slept. He wondered very much who 
 this little boy could be, and what he meant by his 
 burden and his being on a pilgrimage ; he lay won- 
 dering and wondering until the little boy wakened, 
 after sleeping two hours. 
 
 The little boy looked graver than ever, and 
 observing that his pillowslip was packed again he 
 held out his hand to Saunders once more, who took 
 it and pressed it hard. Then, because the sun was 
 strong, they went up the stream to a place where an 
 old thorn-tree grew, and laid themselves down in the 
 shadow of it. 
 
 ' Now,' said the little boy, ' I shall tell you who I 
 am. I am the pilgrim Strongsoul.' 
 
 ' Strongsoul ! ' said Saunders ; ' I never heard the 
 name afore.' 
 
 ' I never heard it till I said it just now,' said the 
 little boy, 'except in my dream.'
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 153 
 
 ' hi your dream ! ' echoed Saunders. 
 
 ' Yes,' said Strongsoul, ' I had a dream just now. 
 You must know, Saunders Klshandcr, that The 
 Pilgrim's Progress is the greatest book in the world. 
 Once you have read it you don't need, and you 
 don't want, to read any other. All that you want 
 to do is to become a pilgrim. I began my pilgrim- 
 age this morning, but I made a great mistake. I 
 expected that everything would happen to me just 
 as it happened to Christian ; but when I had walked 
 for six hours, and got on to the shoulder of Dunmyatt 
 without Pliable or Obstinate coming after me, and 
 without meeting Evangelist or Worldly Wiseman, I 
 began to doubt that something was wrong. Then I 
 met you, and I couldn't make out who you were, for 
 there is nobody like you, Saunders Elshander, in the 
 whole of The Pilgrim's Progress from beginning to 
 end. And because things were happening so differ- 
 ently from what I expected, I doubted that I was 
 wrong in thinking myself another Christian, so I told 
 you that I wasn't very sure who I was. Then when 
 you emptied my burden at the very beginning of 
 my pilgrimage, I thought that you were the devil, 
 although at first I wasn't sure that you mightn't be 
 an angel. Then I attacked you, and when I had 
 overcome you, and you asked me to help you, I
 
 154 PERFERVID 
 
 wondered very much, and thought it was a new 
 temptation of yours to get me into your clutches ; 
 but when I fell down beside you and you did 
 nothing to me, I saw that you weren't the devil ; so 
 I begged your pardon. And now about my dream. 
 Methought I saw one in shining raiment who came 
 to me and said, " Thy name is Strongsoul, and thy 
 fame and glory shall equal Greatheart's. Arise and 
 follow me." And I arose and followed. And the 
 shining one took me to the top of Dunmyatt, and 
 showed me afar off the smoke of a great city, and 
 said, " There lies the City of Destruction." And 
 the shining one vanished, and I awoke. Now the 
 meaning and interpretation of the dream is this : I 
 am henceforth to be called Strongsoul, and we are 
 to journey first of all to the City of Destruction, and 
 thence start for the Celestial City. Thus we cannot 
 expect to meet with any of the adventures which 
 Christian met with until we arrive at the City of 
 Destruction. Wherefore, arise and let us go thither.' 
 Saunders understood only a little of what Strong- 
 soul told him, but he was very much impressed 
 with the earnest way in which he spoke, so he 
 thought he would take his advice about the diffi- 
 culty regarding the shop. When Strongsoul heard 
 what Saunders had to say he advised him not to
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY i 55 
 
 return cither to his master or his father, but to 
 become a pilgrim like him. This proposal staggered 
 Saunders, and he had objections to urge against it. 
 First of all he asked if it wouldn't be wrong. 
 
 Strongsoul answered him out of his book, and 
 showed him a picture in which Evangelist gave 
 Christian a parchment -roll, wherein was written, 
 1 Flee from the wrath to come.' 
 
 ' Ay,' said Saunders, ' my granny's wrath's gey ill 
 tae bear. But we would be sure tae be ta'en up on 
 the road and sent hamc.' 
 
 ' We might,' said Strongsoul. ' There is no 
 adventure of that kind in the book ; but it might 
 happen to us.' 
 
 ' What would ye dae then ? ' asked Saunders. 
 
 ' We might escape from the enemy before they 
 brought us back. If we didn't, we would just have 
 to start a^ain when we were free.' 
 
 Saunders began to be overpowered by Strong- 
 soul's inability to conceive of any other course than 
 the undertaking of this pilgrimage at every hazard. 
 Still he had an argument left, and he thought it a 
 
 strong one. 
 
 ' Hoo are we tae live on the road ? ' he asked. 
 Stronesoul aijain answered him out of his book. 
 He showed him a picture of the Palace Beautiful,
 
 156 PERFERVID 
 
 and read him the passage where the porter says 
 that it was built ' for the relief and security of the 
 pilgrims.' He added, ' You may be sure, Saunders, 
 that if it takes more than a day to get to the 
 City of Destruction, some lodging or arbour will be 
 provided for us.' 
 
 Saunders liked the idea of a roving life, and had 
 more than once thought of running away to sea, 
 so he agreed to accompany Strongsoul on his 
 pilgrimage. They found a sheep -path which led 
 south-east, the direction, Strongsoul said, of the City 
 of Destruction, and they followed it for a while, 
 talking about their pilgrimage, and of other 
 pilgrims who had had adventures with giants, and 
 in the Enchanted Ground, and in the Land of 
 Beulah.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY Continued 
 
 AFTER an hour's journey they found that the sheep- 
 path ceased to go in the direction of the City of 
 Destruction, so they went down to the stream 
 again to rest and to determine how they should 
 proceed. They would have come to a decision 
 about the way much more easily if they had 
 climbed a hill instead of going down into a valley, 
 but they were both thirsty and hungry, and Strong- 
 soul expected to find an arbour beside the water 
 where they could refresh themselves with fruit, and 
 receive some miraculous indication of the way they 
 should take. Saunders, who did not understand 
 pilgrimages so well as Strongsoul, took out of his 
 pocket as they came near the stream a loop of twisted 
 horse-hair, which he told Strongsoul was a girn. He, 
 too, was concerned about his hunger, but he had an 
 idea of his own as to the likeliest way of satisfying it.
 
 158 PERFERVID 
 
 Strongsoul did not know what a girn was, 
 because he had not mingled much with other boys, 
 and so Saunders told him it was for catching trout. 
 Strongsoul wondered how fish could be caught with 
 a little running-noose of horse-hair, and was inclined 
 to think that his companion was making fun of him. 
 Saunders was glad to find that he knew about some- 
 thing better than Strongsoul, and he became very 
 important indeed, and had a great rubbing and 
 sorting of his girn, and quoted a saying of his grand- 
 mother's that ' fools an' bairns shouldna see things 
 half done.' 
 
 Strongsoul paid no heed to him, but began to 
 look about for an arbour. Now it chanced that 
 there was a little den by the bank of the stream just 
 where they descended. It was enclosed by hazels 
 and thorns, and there was a mossy stone in the 
 centre of it like a table, and the turf about it was 
 thick and green and sprinkled with daisies. The 
 stream paused for a little at this place in a broad 
 and deep pool ; then it dived over some rocks, and 
 hurried away as if to make up for the time it had 
 spent beside the den ; and it sang as it went. There 
 were no fruit-trees in the den, but Strongsoul was 
 mightily pleased with it, and pointed out all its 
 beauties to Saunders with much pride. Saunders
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 159 
 
 admired everything, especially the pool, and he 
 
 laughed with delight when he saw that there were 
 trout in it. I te cut a hazel wand, and tied his girn to 
 the slim end of it with horse-hair, and was just 
 beginning to fish when the humble attention which 
 Strongsoul paid him suggested the idea of exhibiting 
 more of his superiority. He laid his hazel wand on 
 the turf, and sitting down on the mossy stone put 
 one leg over the other and began to nurse his knee. 
 He did not know how to start the subject which he- 
 wanted to talk about ; besides, it was necessary to 
 find out whether he had more acquaintance with it 
 than Strongsoul. I Ie puckered his brows, and was 
 afraid he would have to give it up for the time 
 being when he suddenly saw how to work up to his 
 point. 
 
 ' Hoo heavy are ye ? ' he asked. 
 ' I don't know,' said Strongsoul. 
 ' Man, dae ye no ken that ! I'm eight stane.' 
 Strongsoul was not interested, but Saunders went 
 on. 
 
 ' An' eight stane's a hunner an' twal' pun'.' 
 
 Strongsoul took out his book and began to read. 
 
 This Saunders regarded as a sign that he knew 
 
 nothing about Weights and Measures ; therefore, 
 
 without more delay, he launched into Avoirdupois
 
 160 PERFERVID 
 
 IW'ig/it, going straight through it at a breathless 
 rate. Then he rushed through Measure of Capacity, 
 ending up with the irregular measures, which he 
 enunciated slowly and with much emphasis. He 
 knew this to be a feat, as there had been only two 
 other boys besides himself in school with him able 
 to do so correctly at a moment's notice. 
 
 Strongsoul continued to read his book as if there 
 had been nobody present but himself. Saunders 
 perceived now, clearly, that he was master here, for 
 he could not imagine any boy who knew Weights 
 and Measures remaining for one second under the 
 supposition of ignorance of such a subject — a subject 
 which had been to him the most difficult he had 
 mastered. 
 
 ' Dae ye ken Lineal Measure ? ' he asked, his 
 eyes blazing with triumph. 
 
 Strongsoul said nothing. 
 
 ' Man, it's quite easy. I learned it in a week, an' 
 I never got mair nor sax palmies for mistakes in't ; 
 an' Geordie Simpson, him that got the prize for 
 coontin', aince got twelve for't in one day.' 
 
 Then Saunders went through Lineal Measure 
 gloriously. 
 
 ' I say,' he cried breathlessly, ' dae ye ken the 
 Multiplication Table ? Dae ye ken thirteen times ? '
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 101 
 
 At last Strongsoul laid clown his book, and, coming 
 up to him, stood with his hands behind his back 
 and gazed at him sternly. 
 
 ' Saunders Elshander,' he said, ' it seems to me 
 that you would be better employed at one of the 
 booths in Vanity Fair, or in the school of Mr. 
 Gripeman, in Lovegain, which is a market-town in 
 the county of Coveting, in the north, than in going 
 on pilgrimage. This is carnal knowledge, and you 
 must never speak of Weights and Measures to me 
 again. Such talk might do in the company of Mr. 
 Ryends, Mr. Hold-the-World, Mr. Moneylove, and 
 Mr. Savcall, but it is not becoming in true pilgrims. 
 I never knew much of this carnal knowledge, and I 
 have forgotten all I knew. You must do the same, 
 or there is no use your going on pilgrimage.' 
 
 ' But hoo can I forget what was thrashed intae 
 me ? ' 
 
 ' Well, Saunders, I don't know, but if you go on 
 with your fishing I'll think about it.' 
 
 ' A' richt,' said Saunders. 
 
 He was a little crestfallen, but he felt confident 
 that his fishing would create a sensation, so he 
 applied himself to it with all the skill he had. 
 Strongsoul lay down on the bank and watched him, 
 thinking how he was to make Saunders forget his 
 
 M
 
 162 PEREERVID 
 
 Weights and Measures ; but he soon ceased to do so 
 in the excitement of the fishing. 
 
 Saunders knew perfectly well what he was about. 
 The first thing he did was to look up and down the 
 pool to see if there were any trout basking in the 
 sun. At length he caught sight of one snoozing on 
 a flat brown stone. He measured with his eye the 
 distance of the trout from the bank, and laid the 
 girn upon the water about three feet in front of the 
 trout's head. Very gently he lowered the point of 
 his wand into the water, sloping it towards the trout, 
 until the girn was exactly opposite the trout's nose. 
 The trout moved its fins and shifted its position 
 about an inch. Saunders followed the motion with 
 his girn. 
 
 I don't know whether he or Strongsoul was more 
 excited. If he failed to catch this trout at once it 
 would be a terrible downcome, no matter how many 
 more he might catch afterwards. His heart beat, 
 and his eye glared as if his life depended on what 
 he was about. Strongsoul was excited because he 
 perceived now how the girn was to be used. When 
 it occurred to him he rejected the idea as absurd. 
 How could anybody pass a running-noose over a 
 trout's head, and pulling it back behind the gills 
 whip the trout out of the water !
 
 COSMO MORTIMERS STORY 163 
 
 Saunders moved the girn up and down slowly 
 until it was only two inches from the trout. Now 
 was the critical moment! He was on his knees. 
 He clenched his teeth, and clutched the turf with 
 his left hand. With a backward motion of the right 
 the noose was over the trout's head, as cleanly as if 
 the trout had sailed into it. A pause, an upward 
 jerk, and a sweep to the left landed the trout on the 
 turf, wriggling at the end of the hazel wand. 
 
 ' Hurrah ! ' cried Strongsoul, laughing with de- 
 light. 
 
 Saunders undid the noose, and putting his thumb 
 into the trout's mouth broke its neck. 
 
 ' How heavy do you think it is ? ' asked Strong- 
 soul. 
 
 ' Xear quarter a pun',' said Saunders, stepping 
 back to the pool. 
 
 Another trout had come out from its hole to see 
 what had disturbed the water. It was about as big 
 as the one just caught, and lay very finch- ; but as 
 Saunders dropped his girn on the water it slipped 
 off the stone and moved slowly in below another 
 one. With the butt-end of his wand Saunders 
 poked it out, when it rushed in below the opposite 
 bank. Saunders quickly took off his boots and 
 stockings and stepped into the pool. He was afraid
 
 i 64 PERFERYID 
 
 to thrust his wand into the bank lest he should 
 make the water muddy, so he went round to the 
 trout's hole and waited. In a minute it popped out 
 its nose and snuffed the water. It seemed to be of 
 opinion that the coast was clear, for it moved away 
 to the middle of the pool and lay down on the 
 gravel to think. It was trying to account for the 
 absence of its friend, the trout which Saunders had 
 caught. Its cold brain had even got the length of 
 connecting the knock in the ribs it had itself received 
 with the disappearance of the other trout when it 
 saw a black circle in the water about three inches 
 from it. It was a harmless-looking circle, so the 
 trout thought it had better swim through it. One 
 motion of his fins and the circle was behind it, and 
 it felt quite safe. 
 
 But it was not quite safe. The whole of its tail 
 and an inch of its body were still within the girn. 
 Saunders was in a terrible state. The perspiration 
 ran down his face, and it was only by a great effort 
 that he kept his wand steady. He had never seen 
 it done before, he had never even heard of its being 
 attempted, but it seemed to him quite possible now 
 to girn a trout by the tail. It was a big trout, and 
 the tail looked strong enough to hold the noose. 
 He hesitated, until he saw how stupid he was, with
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 165 
 
 a trout in his girn, not to try to land him, no matter 
 by which end. Just as he jerked the girn the trout 
 rose to a fly. This was the very best thing that 
 could have happened, for the noose was so tightened 
 by the double motion of the jerk and of the rising 
 of the trout that Saunders landed him with the 
 greatest ease. 
 
 Now this was exceedingly good girning, two 
 trout in ten minutes, as Saunders very well knew. 
 Still he took his success as a matter of course ; and 
 when Strongsoul exclaimed about his having caught 
 the second fish by the tail he simply said, ' Ay, oh 
 ay!' as if it were quite an ordinary thing to do. 
 But he did not girn any more at that time, as he had 
 no wish to risk his reputation. 
 
 ' Help me tae mak' a fire,' he said, 'an' we'll cook 
 thae troot.' 
 
 Strongsoul wished to distinguish himself in prac- 
 tical matters too, so he undid the pillowslip and 
 arranged some of the sticks for the fire. He then 
 went to a wire-fence that crossed the stream at a 
 little distance from the den. One of the lower wires 
 was quite slack, and from it he twisted a piece about 
 two yards long. While he was doing this he looked 
 out of the corner of his eye to see what impression 
 he was making on Saunders, and he was greatly
 
 I 66 PERFERVID 
 
 delighted to find that Saunders watched him twisting 
 the wire as closely as he had watched Saunders 
 girning the trout. 
 
 One thing annoyed Strongsoul very much. He 
 had no matches. Saunders evidently had some, or 
 he would not have been so ready to make a fire. 
 Everybody knows the extraordinary satisfaction there 
 is in making a blaze, especially in the open air, and 
 this glory was to be added to that already won by 
 Saunders with the girn. But Strongsoul, good 
 pilgrim though he was, tried to dim the lustre of it. 
 
 ' Why don't you light the fire ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' I thocht ye were gaun' tae dae't wi' that wire,' 
 said Saunders. 
 
 ' Oh no ! ' said Strongsoul. ' This is for a very 
 much more important thing.' 
 
 < What is't for ? ' 
 
 ' Light the fire and you'll see.' 
 
 Saunders felt that the deference due to him as 
 the possessor of matches had been withheld, and he 
 thought that Strongsoul took a mean advantage in 
 pretending — for he knew it was pretence — such in- 
 difference. However he lit the fire quietly, saying, as 
 he applied the match, ' They're gey big fish, thae twa.' 
 
 Strongsoul said nothing, but began to shape the 
 wire into something.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 167 
 
 ' It's no everybody that can girn,' said Saunders. 
 
 Still Strongsoul made no reply, and went on 
 shaping the wire. It took him some time, for the 
 wire was not easily bent, but with the help of his 
 feet and a stone he succeeded in making it look 
 something like a gridiron. He didn't look at 
 Saunders when he was done, but placed his gridiron 
 on the fire and was about to lay the fish on it. 
 
 ' Hold on, man ! ' cried Saunders. ' They're no 
 guttit.' 
 
 Each boy pulled out a knife and seized a fish. 
 Then each waited for the other to begin. Now 
 Saunders knew how to clean a fish and Strongsoul 
 did not. Strongsoul was quite prepared to clean a 
 fish with any one who knew no more about it than 
 he, but he had no intention of competing with an 
 expert. He saw in Saunders's face that this was a 
 thing he could do, so he shut up his knife and laid 
 down the fish. The fire was needing some attention, 
 and while Saunders took charge of the fish he built 
 and blew it up until it glowed clear and strong. 
 
 The fish were soon cooked. Saunders produced 
 the remainder of the bread and cheese, and as they 
 were both hungry in a short time there was nothing 
 left except the white bones of the trout. 
 
 After they had washed their hands and faces
 
 i 68 PERFERVID 
 
 Strongsoul took out his book and began to read 
 to Saunders. He read him the great fight with 
 Apollyon in the Valley of Humiliation, which 
 Saunders liked very much. But when Strongsoul 
 came to the Valley of the Shadow of Death he bade 
 him stop because he was frightened. Strongsoul 
 told him it was very stupid of him to be frightened, 
 and that he would come to like it in time. Although 
 he said this he was secretly glad to think that he 
 was braver than Saunders, and to make Saunders 
 sensible of the fact he read the whole of the Valley 
 of the Shadow of Death over to himself very slowly. 
 He read aloud again when he came to the meeting 
 of Christian and Faithful, and then he laid down his 
 book and said, ' I know now how to make you forget 
 your Weights and Measures, Saunders.' 
 'Dae ye? Man, I'll be obleeged tae ye.' 
 Saunders was in earnest. He was anxious to 
 forget even that which had been his chief glory, 
 because the hillside and the wind and the blue sky 
 began to fill him with the spirit of the pilgrim. 
 Weights and Measures reminded him of the school 
 and of the shop, and now he was to be the com- 
 panion of the lark and of the flowers, and of Strong- 
 soul, therefore he wanted to have his Weights and 
 Measures driven out of him.
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 169 
 
 'Yes,' said Strongsoul. 'You must change 
 your name. Since the shining one changed my 
 name everything that happened before is like a 
 bad dream. How would you like to be called 
 Faithful ? ' 
 
 ' Him that met Christian?' 
 
 ■ Yes.' 
 
 1 I dinna ken. Tell me mair aboot him.' 
 
 ' I think he was the greatest of the pilgrims, 
 because he suffered the most.' 
 
 ' What did he suffer ? ' 
 
 ' I'll read you about it.' 
 
 Then Strongsoul read from his book how they 
 scourged Faithful, and buffeted him, and lanced his 
 flesh with knives, and stoned him with stones, and 
 pricked him with swords, and burned him to ashes 
 at the stake. 
 
 ' Dae folk dae thae things tac pilgrims noo ? ' 
 asked Saunders. 
 
 ' Well,' said Strongsoul, ' when Christiana, Chris- 
 tian's wife, with Grcathcart and her family came to 
 Vanity Fair some years after Faithful was burned, 
 they found the people much more moderate. Hut 
 then it's a very long time since that. I shouldn't 
 wonder if the)' turn out to be worse than ever ; we'll 
 see when we get there.'
 
 170 PERFERVID 
 
 1 An' if I was calling myself Faithfu' would they 
 burn me, think ye ? ' 
 
 ' Well — they might.' 
 
 ' Ay, man.' 
 
 Saunders thought for a little, and Strongsoul 
 watched him over the top of his book. At last he 
 said, ' I think ye're richt aboot changin' my name. 
 It would help tae change my inside. But there's 
 nae use garrin' things that'll grow. Noo ye tell't 
 me some ghaist or ither changed your name in a 
 dream, an' I'm thinkin' that's the richt way for 
 pilgrims tae get their names changed. Sae I'll wait 
 till a ghaist comes tae me, an' I'll gie ye my word 
 that I'll no think o' Weights an' Measures ony mair 
 than I can help, an' I'll ne'er speak o' them ava'. 
 Wull that dae ye ? ' 
 
 ' That'll do,' said Strongsoul. ' Now we must go 
 on. We have spent too much time here already.' 
 
 Saunders shouldered the pillowslip, and they 
 began to climb the hill to see which way they 
 should go. When they got to the top of the hill all 
 that they saw was a valley with a higher hill on the 
 other side, and Saunders began to be discouraged. 
 But Strongsoul said, ' Let us go down into the valley 
 and walk along it, for I think it leads south-east, 
 where lies the City of Destruction.'
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 171 
 
 It was a little after noon and the sun was strong. 
 There had been several weeks of dry weather, and 
 as the hillside on which they were lay much ex- 
 posed, the grass was burned up and very slippery. 
 Strongsoul began to think of the way down to the 
 Valley of Humiliation, and of the slip or two which 
 Christian caught there. lie was therefore very 
 wary, and taking a zigzag course moved down side- 
 ways. But Saunders, who was accustomed to slippery 
 hills, dug his heels firmly into the ground, took the 
 pillowslip in both hands, and swinging it round 
 his head sent it flving almost to the foot of the 
 hill. Strongsoul stood still in amazement. Then 
 Saunders sat down on his hunkers, clasped his 
 knees, and with a shout slid smoothly and quickly 
 after the pillowslip. When he reached it he flung 
 it to the bottom, and slid the rest of the way as he 
 had done before. 
 
 Strongsoul considered for a second or two, and 
 remembering that, as they had not started from the 
 City of Destruction, their adventures and methods 
 of going down hills did not need to be the same as 
 those of Christian, he also got down on his hunkers. 
 Hut he had no experience in the art of sliding on 
 sun-burnt hills, so he tumbled head over heels once 
 or twice, and rolled and stumbled and ran and jumped
 
 172 TERFERVID 
 
 down to the bottom, shaking all his bones and getting 
 several bad bruises. Saunders was sorry for him ; 
 but Strongsoul laughed and said he liked it, and 
 Saunders respected him very much. 
 
 By this time they were hungry again, and they 
 had no food of any kind. Saunders looked wist- 
 fully at Strongsoul once or twice, and then he asked 
 him if there was any chance of their coming to 
 a place provided for the refreshment of pilgrims. 
 Strongsoul said he couldn't answer for the way in 
 the meantime, as there was no account in his book 
 of any journey except that from the City of De- 
 struction. Just as he said this he spied a house at 
 the top of the valley. He pointed it out to Saunders 
 and told him, because he believed it, that that was a 
 place where they could rest and refresh themselves. 
 So they dusted with their bonnets each other's 
 jackets and marched boldly up to the house. 
 
 The house at the top of the valley was inhabited 
 by a small sheep -farmer. There was nobody at 
 home when the pilgrims called except the sheep- 
 farmer's wife. She had been married only three 
 months, and did not know very much about life in 
 the hills. Strongsoul knocked at the door, and the 
 goodwife, who was a very pleasant-looking young 
 woman, came running to open it. She was rather
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 
 
 16 
 
 astonished to find at that time two boys who were 
 strangers to her. Sometimes beggars passed through 
 the valley in the afternoon, but she had never before 
 had unexpected visitors so early in the day. 
 
 ' Weel, laddies,' she said, ' what can I dac for 
 ye ? ' 
 
 She spoke sweetly and seemed glad to see 
 them, although she looked curiously at Strong- 
 soul's blackened eyes and Saunders's swollen head. 
 
 Strongsoul answered her very courageously. 
 
 ' YVc are pilgrims, ma'am, and we are going by 
 the direction of an angel to the City of Destruction. 
 We have need of rest and refreshment.' 
 
 The sheep-farmer's wife took a step back and 
 looked from one to the other. ' An' what kin' o' 
 refreshment would ye be wantin' ? ' she asked slowly. 
 
 ' Scones and milk,' Saunders whispered to Strong- 
 soul. But the goodwife heard him and burst out 
 laughing. ' Come in, laddies,' she said. ' Come in.' 
 
 She took them into a parlour fragrant with wood- 
 roof, and made them sit down on an old-fashioned 
 sofa at one end of it, while she sat down in an old- 
 fashioned armchair at the other. 
 
 ' Ah-hey ! ' she said. ' An' sae ye're pilgrims, are 
 ye ? Ye'll hae heard o' Christian an' Hopcfu' an' 
 Mr. Readv-tae-halt ? '
 
 174 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Yes, ma'am,' said Strongsoul, with his heart in 
 his mouth. 
 
 ' An' hoo lang hae ye been on the road ? ' 
 
 ' Since daybreak.' 
 
 ' An' hae ye had naethin' tae eat sin' ye startit ? ' 
 
 ' Oh yes, ma'am ! We've had some bread and 
 cheese and trout,' said Strongsoul. ' But we're 
 hungry again.' 
 
 ' Weel,' said the goodwife, ' bide a wee, and I'll 
 gie ye your denner.' 
 
 Before she left the room she took from a book- 
 shelf which hung above a chest of drawers. a thick 
 volume bound in half-calf. 
 
 ' Hae ye ever seen this ? ' she asked, handing the 
 book to Strongsoul. 
 
 ' No,' said Strongsoul, trembling with delight as 
 he turned over the pages. 
 
 ' Ye can tak' a look at it then,' said the good- 
 wife, ' till denner's ready.' And she left the room. 
 
 Saunders sat up close to Strongsoul and they 
 laid the book between their knees. It was a large 
 edition of The Pilgrims Progress with a picture on 
 every third page. They looked through it all, and 
 Strongsoul explained the pictures to Saunders. 
 When they had finished it they were both filled 
 with a burning desire to get to the City of De-
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY i 75 
 
 struction at once in order to begin their journey 
 properly, so that they were very glad when the 
 coodwifc came and told them that dinner was 
 ready. 
 
 She took them to the kitchen and gave them 
 some broth and meat and potatoes, and a biscuit 
 with jam on it and a cup of milk. Strongsoul 
 thanked her, and Saunders said his ' denner mindit 
 him o' a thing his granny used tae say, " It's guid 
 tae hac oor cog oot whan it rains kail." 
 
 ' An' wha may your granny be ? ' said the good- 
 wife. 
 
 But Saunders was just as pawky as she, for he 
 said, ' She's a gey droll auld bod)-, an' awfu' for 
 mindin' her ain biznis — an' ither folk's tae,' he added 
 under his breath. 
 
 The goodwife heard him and laughed, and said, 
 1 A'tweel, laddies, it's no me that'll spoil your bit 
 splore. I wish the gudeman had been here, for 
 he was a gey through'ther lad himsel'.' 
 
 1 But, ma'am, we are not through'ther,' said Strong- 
 soul eagerly. ' We are pilgrims, and we would 
 sooner cut off our right hands than do anything 
 wrong.' 
 
 ' Weel, weel, laddies, I believe ye,' said the good- 
 wife kindlv- ' I ken what it is tae want a bit
 
 176 PERFERVID 
 
 freedom. I once stayed oot a' nicht mysel' whan I 
 was a lassie, an' a gey sair skelpin' I got for't.' 
 
 ' Come with us,' said Strongsoul, who liked the 
 appearance of the goodwife, and felt himself very 
 much drawn to her. ' Come with us. I will lead 
 you to the City of Destruction.' 
 
 At this the goodwife laughed louder than she had 
 yet done, but Strongsoul was not abashed. 
 
 ' Saunders and I will help you through the Slough 
 of Despond,' he said, 'and past the lions and the 
 giants, and across the dark river to the Celestial 
 City.' 
 
 The goodwife stopped laughing, and the tears 
 came into her eyes. She took Strongsoul to her 
 bosom and kissed him tenderly, and said something 
 which Strongsoul could not perfectly understand 
 about having a little pilgrim of her own soon to help 
 her to heaven. Saunders turned his back on them 
 and blushed to the wall, but the goodwife clapped 
 him on the head and said he was a fine laddie. 
 Then she put some scones and oat-cakes and cheese 
 into the pillowslip. Besides that she gave Strong- 
 soul a sixpence, and bade them both ' Gae hame 
 afore it was owre late,' having told them how to get 
 out of the hills to the highway.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY — Continued 
 
 When they came to the highway they began to be 
 very downcast. The road was straight with hedges 
 on either side, and the)* could see very far before 
 them. That was the cause of their dolefulness. 
 They had been wandering about among the hills for 
 hours with the pleasant din of the stream, and the 
 grasshoppers, and the bees, and the larks resounding 
 in their ears ; with the soft turf under their feet, and 
 paths that wound in and out and up and down, now 
 at the water's edge, now on the brow of the hill, now 
 among heather, now among fern. It was no wonder 
 that the hard-beaten highway made them miserable. 
 It stretched away for a mile in front of them thick 
 with white dust that little puffs of wind blew in their 
 eyes. They could see nothing on the right hand or 
 on the left except high thorn hedges whose once 
 glossy leaves were dry and powdered. They still 
 
 N
 
 178 PERFERVID 
 
 heard the larks singing, and sometimes a bee 
 twanged across the road, but these sounds made 
 them only regret the more the delightful paths 
 among the hills. 
 
 At length Saunders, who was carrying the pillow- 
 slip, could endure it no longer. He threw down his 
 burden on the road and said, ' There's your sins, and 
 here's the last o' me,' and turned his back on Strong- 
 soul and began to walk away. Strongsoul ran after 
 him and caught him by the arm and stopped him, 
 and said, ' Come back, Saunders, come back.' 
 
 There was something so sweet and gentle in 
 Strongsoul's face as he said this that Saunders made 
 no resistance, and went back to where the pillowslip 
 lay. • 
 
 ' These aren't my sins, Saunders,' said Strongsoul, 
 picking up the pillowslip and slinging it over his 
 shoulder. ' We will get our burdens when we come 
 to the City of Destruction.' 
 
 ' What way did you call them your sins, then ? ' 
 asked Saunders. 
 
 ' Because I thought I ought to have sins just as 
 Christian had, and I had nothing else to make up a 
 burden with except these things. I thought it didn't 
 matter very much what they were as long as the 
 burden was heavy enough.'
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 179 
 
 ' Then what for dae ye lug it alang wi' ve noo ? ' 
 
 ' Because it'll teach us how to cany burdens, and 
 we will be better able to bear our sins when the)- 
 are given to us.' 
 
 ' Weel, as I said whan I first saw ye, ye're a 
 strange one. Mebbe ye'll tell me what for ye keep 
 trailin' through a' this stour whan we micht be 
 trampin' the hills.' 
 
 ' Because I think this must be like the narrow 
 way, which Goodwill will show us when we have 
 arrived at the little wicket-gate ; and so we'd better 
 get accustomed to it. Come on.' 
 
 Saunders made no answer, but started again with 
 Strongsoul. They walked on for half an hour, 
 neither saying anything. Then Saunders took the 
 pillowslip from Strongsoul, and Strongsoul slipped 
 his arm into Saunders's, and they walked along very 
 happily in spite of the dusty road. 
 
 They had not gone far in this friendly way when 
 they saw some one coming toward them in very 
 ragged attire. He had a thick stick in his hand and 
 a wallet on his back. His face was unwashed, and 
 his beard was long and matted, and so was his hair. 
 At the sight of this man Strongsoul began to quake, 
 not with fear, but with the hope of an adventure. 
 He whispered to Saunders that this looked like a
 
 i So PERFERVID 
 
 giant, and bade him be of good cheer, for he would 
 fight the giant and overcome him. 
 
 Now this was an ill-enough-looking man; and 
 when he came near the pilgrims he wondered a 
 little who they could be and what they were about, 
 but he had no intention of doing them any harm. 
 He was walking very fast, like one who had some 
 important business awaiting him ; and he would 
 certainly have passed the pilgrims had Strongsoul 
 not stepped in front of him and said, ' I know thee. 
 Thou art giant Grislybeard, and thou hast slain 
 many pilgrims whom thou hast dragged out of the 
 king's highway ; but now I will avenge their blood 
 upon thee. Wherefore, come on.' 
 
 With that Strongsoul lifted his stick and prepared 
 himself to fight, expecting the giant to do the same. 
 But the giant had no intention of fighting. 
 
 ' Ha, ha ! ' he sneered. ' Get out of the way.' 
 And he kicked Strongsoul so that he fell and 
 bruised his head. 
 
 When Saunders saw Strongsoul down, although 
 he had little stomach for the fight and could not 
 understand why his companion should be so rash, 
 yet he plucked up courage, and swinging the pillow- 
 slip in the air made it twist round the neck of the 
 giant. With a pull he brought him down on his back,
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 
 
 181 
 
 saying, ' Here's a new kin' o' girninV Strongsoul 
 was on his legs again and, seeing the giant down, 
 was about to strike him on the head when he 
 remembered that Greatheart had never taken any 
 advantages of the giants he had killed ; so he paused 
 until Grislybeard should rise. 
 
 The giant got up, roaring, and straightway seized 
 
 on Saunders and began to belabour him with his 
 stick in such a savage manner that Saunders danced 
 and shrieked with pain. But Strongsoul smote the 
 eiant a blow on the back of the head with his oaken 
 staff. ' Coward ! ' he cried, ' fight with one who is 
 armed, and leave the helpless alone.' Then the 
 giant turned on Strongsoul with an oath and aimed
 
 1 82 PERFERVID 
 
 a blow at his face. Strongsoul slipped out of the 
 way, and put in another blow on the giant's head 
 which made him leap with rage and pain. He 
 rushed at Strongsoul and would have felled him 
 had not Saunders, who saw the peril of his friend 
 and who was now heart and soul in the fight, caught 
 hold of the giant's leg and tripped him up. He 
 rose at once, with tears of rage in his voice and 
 eyes at being molested and foiled by two boys. He 
 was no sooner on his feet, however, than Saunders, 
 who had got behind him, swung the pillowslip round 
 his neck and brought him to the ground again. In 
 this fall the giant's head was cut. 
 
 Afraid that he might receive some more hurt by 
 being taken unawares Grislybeard crawled to the 
 hedge before getting up, in order to be protected 
 from attacks with the pillowslip and to have a 
 position of some security from which to treat with 
 his enemies. The moment he was on his feet he 
 addressed the two pilgrims by exceedingly foul 
 names, and said, ' What is it you want at all ? ' 
 
 ' Nothing but your life will satisfy us,' said 
 Strongsoul. 
 
 At this the giant grew pale, thinking that the 
 boys were mad, and knowing how strong and 
 resolute madness can make even the weakest.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 1X3 
 
 ' Come,' said Strongsoul, ' let us fall to it again.' 
 
 The giant put up his stick to defend himself but 
 did not leave the hedge. Strongsoul dealt a blow 
 at him which he caught on his stick ; but the blow- 
 was very fierce, and Strongsoul's stick slipped up 
 the giant's and struck his knuckles, bringing the 
 blood. 
 
 Here the fight was brought to a sudden end ; for 
 ;it the very moment that Strongsoul was launching 
 another blow at Grislybeard, he himself received 
 a stroke behind the ear and fell in a dead faint. 
 The giant's wife, unnoticed by any of the combatants, 
 had arrived on the scene, and she it was who had 
 knocked Strongsoul down. There was no love lost 
 between the giant and his wife, and thev often 
 mauled each other, but neither would allow the 
 interference of a third party. They were so little 
 in love that when they were on a journey they 
 always kept about a quarter of a mile apart in 
 order that they might not be annoyed by the sight 
 of each other ; and that is how Mrs. Grislybeard 
 arrived in time to save her husband. 
 
 Seeing Strongsoul no longer able to fight the 
 giant struck Saunders across the knees and brought 
 him down to the ground too. Then his wife helped 
 him to bind the wound on his head, while they
 
 1 84 PERFERVID 
 
 consulted what they should do with the defeated 
 pilgrims. 
 
 The giantess said, ' We can't leave them here. 
 They could describe us, and then where would we 
 be?' 
 
 ' That's true,' said the giant. 
 
 ' Well, what are you going to do ? ' said his 
 wife testily. ' Somebody may come along at any 
 moment.' 
 
 ' W r e must take them with us.' 
 
 ' Must we ! How ? ' 
 
 ' Drive them before us.' 
 
 ' It'll be a stiff job. We can't go along the road.' 
 
 ' No ; we must get off it at once. There's a 
 break in the hedge. You go through, and I'll 
 shove the boy after you.' 
 
 The giant's wife pushed through the hedge, and 
 the giant lifted Strongsoul and handed him to her. 
 Then he poked Saunders in the ribs with his stick 
 and said, ' Get up.' 
 
 Saunders got up as well as he could with many 
 a groan, for his knees were very sore. 
 
 ' Take your bolster,' said the giant, ' and get 
 through there.' 
 
 The opening in the hedge was pretty wide and 
 Saunders got through well enough. Then the giant
 
 CoS.Mo MORTIMER'S STi >RY 18 
 
 :> 
 
 followed, and taking Strongsoul from his wife started 
 for the hills. Mrs. Grislybeard told Saunders to 
 follow her husband, and she brought up the rear. 
 It was a field of turnips in which they were walking, 
 and Saunders stumbled once or twice, but each time 
 the giantess rapped him over the head with her 
 stick. This made him more careful, and he managed 
 to walk, in spite of his sore knees, without falling. 
 He was crying to himself, however, and wished he 
 had never seen Strongsoul. 
 
 There was a belt of trees between the turnip-field 
 and the hills, and in it they halted. The giant 
 forced some spirits down Strongsoul's throat, which 
 revived him, and he opened his eyes, and sat up on 
 the blaeberry bush where the giant had laid him. 
 The giant and giantess also took some spirits. 
 Then they put the pilgrims between them and 
 resumed their journey. It was very difficult for 
 Saunders and Strongsoul to keep up with their 
 captors, but if either of them halted or stumbled 
 the giantess rapped him over the head with her 
 stick ; and as Strongsoul was too weak to fight, and 
 had, moreover, lost his weapon, he followed the 
 example of Saunders, and did what he could be- 
 taking heed of his steps to avoid the knocks on the 
 head.
 
 i86 PERFERVID 
 
 After thcv had journeyed for an hour and a half 
 
 J J J 
 
 up a steep glen they rested again at a place where 
 two streams met. The giant and giantess took 
 some more of their cordial, and then the giantess 
 said, ' What made you quarrel with these two 
 boys ? ' 
 
 Grislybeard told his wife how the fight had 
 begun, and that nothing had ever astonished him 
 more in his life. Mrs. Grislybeard was astonished 
 too, and looked at the boys, especially Strongsoul, 
 very savagely. Strongsoul stared back. Although 
 he managed to look at her as long as she looked at 
 him he shuddered to the marrow of his bones at the 
 expression of her eyes. She had once been a hand- 
 some woman, but her hair was of a dirty gray now ; 
 her brow was rough ; and her face looked as if it 
 would crumble away on the slightest touch like soft 
 sandstone that has long been exposed to the weather. 
 Her eyes were very ugly, and were capable of ex- 
 pressing only two things — greed and malignity. As 
 a rule they had no expression at all. The malicious 
 gleam in them as they turned from Strongsoul to 
 the giant set Strongsoul thinking. He remembered 
 Giant Slaygood, who was of the nature of flesh- 
 eaters, and a cold chill ran down his back. Grisly- 
 beard and his wife might well be eaters of human
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 187 
 
 flesh : the worst of cannibals could not appear more 
 repulsive than they did. Strongsoul was puzzling 
 his brains how Saunders and he might escape from 
 their clutches when their captors rose, and placing 
 the pilgrims between them started up the steeper 
 and rockier of the two glens in the gusset of which 
 they had been resting. The difficulty of the way 
 took up all the attention of the pilgrims. Their 
 heads were aching from the raps of the giantess's 
 stick, and their feet were sore with stumbling along 
 the rocky bed of the half-dry stream. A quarter of an 
 hour more of this rough walking completely exhausted 
 Strongsoul, and he fell down among the rocks unable 
 to move a step farther. Me pressed both hands on 
 his head to save it as much as possible from the 
 giantess's stick, and shut his eyes and clenched his 
 teeth that he might bear the pain without crying 
 out. But this time the giantess did not rap him 
 on the head. Opening his eyes he saw that they 
 were at the foot of a precipitous rock of about fifty 
 feet high. Saunders was standing close beside him, 
 and the giantess sat on a stone keeping guard. 
 At first he failed to see Grislybeard, but looking 
 about him more attentively he perceived that the 
 rock was cleft from top to bottom, and that the 
 giant was standing at the foot of this opening.
 
 1 88 PERFERVID 
 
 Grislybeard put his little finger in his mouth and 
 whistled shrilly ; then he nodded his head ten times 
 as if he were counting, and whistled again ; then he 
 counted twenty in the same way, and whistled a 
 third time. A few seconds after three whistles in 
 rapid succession echoed down the cleft, and the giant 
 stepped into it. In a little he reappeared and 
 beckoned them. Strongsoul struggled to his feet 
 and took the arm of Saunders, who was crying 
 bitterly. The giantess pushed them on to her 
 husband, and he lifted Saunders into a cage that 
 was hanging inside the cleft. Viewed from the glen 
 this cleft was only three feet across, but it opened 
 out to six feet within the rock, and stretched away 
 back, sometimes narrower, sometimes wider, until it 
 was lost in darkness. 
 
 The giant stepped into the cage after Saunders, 
 whistled once more, and they began to ascend. 
 Strongsoul looked up and saw about the middle of 
 the left wall the heads of two men vanishing and 
 appearing as they worked the windlass by which 
 the cage was being hoisted. Here, then, the giant 
 had his cave. Once up there it would be impossible 
 to get away. Unless he managed to escape before 
 the caee came down he would never have another 
 chance.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 189 
 
 The giantess was sitting in the cleft. Behind 
 her the rock was level for about two feet, then it 
 sloped steeply, how far Strongsoul could not see ; 
 but this was enough for him — he knew how to make 
 one effort for liberty. 
 
 Slowly the cage mounted, followed by the eyes 
 of Mrs. Grislybeard and Strongsoul. Creak, crack- 
 went the chain on the windlass, while the men who 
 were working it could be heard puffing and grunting. 
 The giant with his stick kept the cage from bumping 
 on the rock, and shouted to the men to hurry up. 
 Once Saunders looked over, but he became so sick 
 and dizzy that he had to withdraw his head. At 
 last the cage stopped. Gathering together all his 
 strength Strongsoul seized the feet of the giantess, 
 and rising up turned her, screaming, head over heels 
 down the ravine. Strongsoul looked up, but he 
 could see nothing save the empty cage. He heard, 
 however, angry voices, which were so loud that they 
 had prevented the speakers from noticing the 
 giantess's screams. Looking over the edge of the 
 rock on which the giantess had been sitting, Strong- 
 soul saw her at the bottom of a steep slope of nearly 
 twenty feet, lying on her face and huddled in a heap 
 as if dead. Then he turned and ran up the glen. 
 
 There were steep rocks on either side for about
 
 190 PERFERVID 
 
 fifty yards. Strongsoul could, therefore, take no 
 other way than between these. He chose to go up 
 the glen, thinking that the giant would imagine he 
 had tried to return to the highway as he had come, 
 and would in consequence search for him down the 
 glen. When the precipices ended the glen was still 
 very steep on both sides, and Strongsoul had to 
 keep to the course of the stream. Suddenly the 
 way was stopped by a high wall of rock which filled 
 up the way from side to side — all but a narrow 
 passage for the water. Strongsoul sat down, and 
 for the first time began to despair. He felt like a 
 beast caught in a trap. But he took out his book, 
 and he turned to the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
 He soon found the place where Christian thought of 
 going back, because of the company of fiends that 
 were coming towards him, but changed his mind, 
 and crying with a loud voice ' I will walk in the 
 strength of the Lord God ' went on triumphantly. 
 This Strongsoul said aloud, and putting the book in 
 his pocket stepped into the stream. He looked 
 through the narrow way that pierced the wall of 
 rock and saw that it was long. Although the 
 stream was very low, in this channel the water ran 
 deep and black and still. Strongsoul shuddered, 
 for there was no other way of escape ; but he said
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY i<;i 
 
 again, not so loud as before, and indeed his voice 
 trembled a little, ' I will walk in the strength of the 
 Lord God,' and stepped into the passage. The 
 water took him tip to the chin at once. When he- 
 had recovered his breath his first idea was to struggle 
 out, but he heard the sound of voices behind him. 
 Then he muttered under his breath, ' I will walk in 
 the strength of the Lord God,' and took a step 
 forward. This time the water reached his nostrils, 
 and he had to throw back his head in order to 
 breathe. He was very white, and yet his face was 
 dark, and the expression of it — it would be hard to 
 say whether that was terror-stricken or terrible. He 
 could make out distinctly now the voice of the giant 
 in the glen ; so he prepared himself for another 
 step. He pushed his hands forward on either side 
 of the passage, and was just lifting his foot when he 
 drew back. The darkness went out of his face, for 
 his left hand had touched a ledge under the water. 
 In a moment he was on it ; it was nearly as broad 
 as the length of his foot. With his back to the 
 left wall and his hands on the right one he moved 
 along, but he had taken only four steps when he 
 almost fell — his left hand had missed the wall. 
 Looking up to see the cause of this, for he had 
 been watching the water, he saw opposite him a
 
 192 TERFERVID 
 
 hole. Without a moment's hesitation he sprang into 
 it and found himself in a large cave. The first thing 
 he did was to take the book from his pocket and 
 lay it clown to dry ; then he crouched down at the 
 entrance of the cave to listen. 
 
 Voices approached, and he heard the giant say, 
 ' He hasn't come this way. The others must have 
 found him by this time.' Immediately Strongsoul 
 heard their steps receding, and soon they died away. 
 
 He was very wet, and very hungry, and very 
 tired. If he didn't get something to eat at once he 
 felt as if he would die. He thought very hard for 
 ten minutes. Then he rose and stepped on to the 
 ledge, and walked back to the entrance of the 
 passage. He found that the ledge went all the 
 way, but that it was deeper at the beginning, and 
 this was how he had missed it at first. 
 
 He ran back to the giant's cave as fast as he 
 could, and there at the foot of the cleft, as he had 
 hoped, lay his pillowslip. It had been overlooked 
 in the excitement caused by his escape. He knew 
 what a risk he ran, but he could not help taking 
 time to glance into the ravine ; and he saw that the 
 eiantess had been removed. Then he hurried back 
 to his cave, and managed to keep his pillowslip 
 from getting wet by fastening it round his neck.
 
 COsMo MORTIMER'S STORY [93 
 
 Five minutes after he got back the giant and three 
 of his men returned to the cave, having given up 
 the search for Strongsoul. 
 
 The pillowslip contained a suit of clothes, which 
 Strongsoul put on, after spreading the wet ones out 
 on the floor of the cave to dry. He ate some of 
 the scones and cakes and cheese which the good wife 
 had given him, and then he lay down to think out a 
 plan for delivering Saunders, and fell asleep. 
 
 It was night when he awoke, and looking out of 
 his cave he saw some stars shining deep down in 
 the water ; but there was no moon. He buckled 
 his trousers up to his thighs, and was stepping on 
 to the ledge to go out and explore the glen when 
 he heard voices at the entrance of the passage. He 
 held his breath and listened. 
 
 ' This is a likely place,' came from a gruff voice, 
 doing its best to whisper. 
 
 ' Who'll go first ? ' said another. 
 
 ' I will,' said the owner of the gruff voice, and 
 Strongsoul heard him splash into the water. 
 
 Now it was pitch dark between the walls of rock, 
 the only visible thing being the reflection of the 
 stars. Strongsoul thought it possible that the cave 
 might be found by these servants of the giant — for 
 such he judged them to be — but he perceived a 
 
 O
 
 194 PERFERVID 
 
 chance of escaping. He put his book in his 
 pocket, pushed his pillowslip and his clothes to the 
 back of the cave, and stepped noiselessly on to the 
 ledge. He went up the passage a little way and 
 waited. 
 
 ' It's pretty deep,' said the gruff voice. 
 
 ' So I find,' said another. 
 
 ' Are ye all in ? ' said the gruff voice. 
 
 ' Yes,' came from other two. 
 
 ' Quietly, then, and cautiously.' 
 
 The speakers advanced slowly up the channel. 
 
 ' It's getting deeper,' said the gruff voice. 
 
 The owner of it had passed the cave and stood 
 exactly under Strongsoul, who thought he would be 
 sure to hear his heart thumping against his ribs. 
 He did not, however, and stepped from under 
 Strongsoul. 
 
 ' Hillo ! ' he cried, 'I'm up to the chin — and it 
 grows deeper and deeper,' he added, having pushed 
 his stick forward to test the bottom. 
 
 ' What's to be done ? ' 
 
 ' We must go back. One step more and I would 
 be over the head.' 
 
 Here Strongsoul was unable to smother com- 
 pletely a laugh of exultation. 
 
 ' What's that ? ' said one.
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 195 
 
 ' A kelpie, most likely,' said the gruff voice. 
 ' The sooner we're out of here the better.' 
 
 Grumbling at such a wetting for nothing they all 
 turned and left the passage. Strongsoul followed 
 them along the ledge and into the open glen, when 
 they had gone away a piece. lie had no boots on, 
 and therefore made no noise. lie was not accus- 
 tomed to go about with bare feet, so he had to be 
 very careful not to hurt them on the stones. 
 
 The four men were met by four others at the 
 cleft where the giant's cave was, and the eight sat 
 down on the stones and began to talk in whispers. 
 Strongsoul crept quietly up until he was able to hear 
 what they were saying. He was overjoyed to learn 
 from their talk that they were searching for the 
 giant to take him and his into custody. So he 
 spoke up boldly and said, ' Ye search for the giant 
 Grislybcard.' 
 
 ' The devil ! ' said the owner of the gruff voice. 
 
 ' No ; I am the pilgrim Strongsoul bound for the 
 City of Destruction. Who are ye ? ' 
 
 ' It's the kelpie,' said the gruff-voiced man in 
 alarm, and the whole eight crowded together against 
 the rock. 
 
 ' What do ye fear ? ' said Strongsoul. ' Are ye 
 not also pilgrims ? '
 
 196 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Speak to it, somebody,' said the gruff-voiced man. 
 
 ' We're no meanin' any harm tae ye, Maister 
 Kelpie, or mebbe I should say Miss- — I dinna ken 
 what sex ye're o',' some one said. ' But we'll be 
 muckle obleeged tae ye if ye'll tell us whaur this cave 
 is. We've searched the hills hereaboots for weeks 
 but we canna find it.' 
 
 ' The cave is right above us,' said Strongsoul. 
 
 Nobody replied to this. 
 
 ' It is,' said Strongsoul, understanding their silence 
 to mean doubt. ' Inside this crack on the left about 
 half way up is the entrance. It's very difficult to 
 get at' 
 
 ' We'll have to risk a light,' said the gruff-voiced 
 man. 
 
 One of the others took a small lantern from 
 his pocket, and lighting it turned it on Strongsoul. 
 
 ' I declare it's a laddie ! ' said two or three in a 
 breath. 
 
 The gruff-voiced man who seemed to be the 
 leader seized him by the collar. 
 
 ' Hands off ! ' said Strongsoul. 
 
 The man looked at him closely and shook him a 
 little ; but Strongsoul, who had picked up a broken 
 branch, struck him on the head with it, and the man 
 let <zo his hold more amazed than hurt.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 197 
 
 ' I believe it is a kelpie,' be said. ' They can 
 look like what they please.' 
 
 ' If be can show us the cave,' said the man with 
 the light, ' it doesn't matter what be is.' 
 
 ' That's true,' said the leader. ' Where is it ? ' 
 
 Strongsoul pointed them the place as well as he 
 could by the light of the lantern. 
 
 1 How do they get up to it ? ' asked the leader. 
 
 Strongsoul explained about the windlass, and told 
 them, seeing that they were friendly, of the capture 
 by Grislybeard, and how Saunders bad been carried 
 off, and bow be himself bad escaped. They all 
 wondered at the story, but nobody made any remark. 
 They looked up the rock, straining their eyes, for the 
 lantern gave a feeble light Then they stared at 
 Strongsoul and then at each other. 
 
 At length the leader said, ' We can't do any more 
 to-nistfit. We'll come with a ladder to-morrow and 
 see how much of this is true.' 
 
 Strongsoul remembered stumbling over a fallen 
 larch-tree on the road up with the giant. It struck 
 him that they might use it as a ladder, and he made 
 the proposal. The leader looked at him admiringly, 
 and whispered to the man with the lantern, ' I'm 
 sure it's a kelpie.' 
 
 Strongsoul led them down the glen, and they
 
 198 PERFERVID 
 
 were not long in coming to the fallen larch. Six of 
 them hoisted it on their shoulders and carried it up 
 to the cleft. They broke off all the longer branches, 
 leaving a bit of each to climb by, and then they 
 wedged the tree in the entrance, placing the top 
 against the left side and the trunk against the right, 
 so that it stood pretty steadily. To make it surer 
 three of them held it. 
 
 ' Now,' said the leader, ' will you go up first ? ' 
 
 He looked to the place where he had last seen 
 Strongsoul, but he was not there. 
 
 ' I told ye,' he said with some complacence. 
 ' It's just a kelpie. It'll not be me that'll go up that 
 tree.' 
 
 ' Nor me,' said one, and then another, and then 
 all of them, finding that nobody pretended to bravery 
 in the matter. 
 
 ' Kelpies,' said one, ' are kittle cattle. I've heard 
 o' gey mishanters happenin' folk that lippen't tae 
 them. I had a gudebrither wha gaed oot ae nicht 
 an' forgaither't wi' ane at a well. He was a bauld 
 eneuch falla', for he merrit my sister, bein' my gude- 
 brither, ye see. An' my sister had a temper like a 
 nor'-east wun', an' hands like hammers, an' likit a 
 dram tae. She took after her mither, an' her faither 
 forbye. Geordie, ye min' my faither ? Ay, an' d'ye
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY [99 
 
 min' yon time you an' me frichtcn't my auntie ? 
 Man ' 
 
 'Well, here I am,' said Strongsoul, appearing 
 suddenly, and cutting short the story of the gude- 
 brither and the kelpie and the man's sister, etc. 
 ' I've been putting on stockings and boots to climb 
 the tree.' 
 
 No one said a word and Strongsoul began to 
 mount. As he went up the leader noticed that his 
 boots were dripping wet. He pointed it out to the 
 man with the lantern and whispered, ' Ye may be 
 sure it's a kelpie now. Who but a kelpie would 
 keep his boots in the water ! ' 
 
 Strongsoul climbed about half- way up the tree 
 and then told them that he couldn't get any further 
 without more light. 
 
 ' Well,' said the leader to the others, ' shall we 
 risk it ? ' 
 
 ' It's no use,' said the man with the lantern, 
 ' attempting concealment now. If there were people 
 up there they must have heard us long ago and be 
 miles away by this time.' 
 
 ' But if this is the only entrance?' said the leader. 
 
 ' There's no likelihood of that,' replied the other. 
 ' It's a poor mouse that has only one way to its 
 hole.'
 
 ?oo 
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 ' Well, then, light the torches,' cried the leader, 
 letting out the full volume of his gruff voice. 
 
 Six torches were soon ablaze, lighting up a space 
 of the night, which thronged so thick and dark where 
 
 the radiance died 
 that it crowded out 
 all the stars. Strong- 
 soul looked down 
 and was glad to see 
 the faces of the men. 
 He looked up and 
 was equally glad to 
 see that the mouth of 
 the cave was just 
 '(/I above him. In a 
 minute he stood in 
 it, and bending over 
 said, ' I'm up now, 
 but the windlass is 
 away.' 
 
 ' Who goes next ? ' 
 
 said the leader. 
 
 After some talking it was decided that the four 
 
 men who had been in the water, and who were 
 
 shivering with cold, should climb the tree for the 
 
 sake of the exercise, and that the other four should
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 201 
 
 hold it at the bottom. When the exploring party- 
 were all up two of them who had extinguished their 
 torches and brought them in their pockets re-lit them. 
 Strongsoul led the way into the cave with a beating 
 heart. 
 
 The passage was about twenty feet long, and 
 sloped so much and so irregularly that they had to 
 walk warily. They were all more or less tremulous, 
 but they heard nothing except the echoes of their 
 own steps. When they came to the cave they stood 
 and peered into it. The two torches were quite 
 sufficient to light up its walls and floor, but the roof 
 besides being high was concealed by a cloud of 
 smoke. Seeing nobody — much to Strongsoul's 
 astonishment, who had expected to find the giant 
 and his men in order of battle — they ventured in 
 and looked about them. 
 
 ' Here's the still, and a big one too,' said the 
 leader, laying his hand on a large copper kettle with 
 a long bent horn of the same metal rising out of it, 
 the like of which Strongsoul had never seen before. 
 ' And I declare it's hot ! ' he cried excitedly. 
 Looking down, he saw a fire of peat smouldering 
 between the two stones on which the still sat. 
 
 Strongsoul with horror in his eyes examined this, 
 to him, strange utensil. He saw that the horn was
 
 202 PERFERVID 
 
 joined to a pipe which twisted round about the inside 
 of a small barrel full of water, and that the water 
 was kept cool from a supply in another and larger 
 barrel standing on the top of a box. 
 
 ' Oh me ! ' he cried, falling on his knees and burst- 
 ing into tears, for he felt certain that Saunders had 
 been boiled in this huge kettle, and in some diabolical 
 manner pulled like a ribbon through the twisting 
 pipe. 
 
 ' What ails ye ? ' said one of the men. 
 
 ' Open it, please,' said Strongsoul, sobbing. 
 
 Two of the men unscrewed the horn from the 
 pipe and the kettle and lifted it off. Shaking in 
 every limb Strongsoul looked in, and was almost 
 knocked down by a strong smell. But it was not 
 the smell of boiled Saunders. 
 
 'What is this?' said Strongsoul. 
 
 ' A still/ said the leader, ' for making whisky.' 
 
 Then Strongsoul perceived how Grislybeard 
 was steeped in iniquity. Not only did he waylay 
 and carry off pilgrims, but he was a maker and 
 diffuser of that deadly enemy of pilgrims — strong 
 drink. 
 
 Stron""soul's concern for Saunders was little 
 
 O 
 
 diminished by the knowledge that he had not been 
 despatched in the horrible way he had imagined.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 203 
 
 He went over the whole cave, sounding the walls 
 and the floors, and looking into some bags and barrels 
 that lay about, but he could find no trace of his 
 comrade. Nor could he see any way out of the 
 cave except that by which they had entered. This 
 forced him to the conclusion that Grislybcard and 
 his men must have left the cave with Saunders and 
 Mrs. Grislybcard some time before the arrival of the 
 search-part\-. 
 
 In the meantime the men were discussing what 
 they should do. They were not excise officers — 
 merely ploughmen and railway porters belonging to 
 the countryside who thought to make money by 
 capturing an illicit still, a service for which Govern- 
 ment pays a large sum. 
 
 ' I think the gaugers break the still,' said the 
 leader. 
 
 ' A}-, but how are we to do it ? ' said another. 
 
 ' I tell yc what," put in a third. ' We can easily 
 take away the worm and the horn. That'll be proof 
 positive that we found a still here.' 
 
 ' I believe that's the right way,' said the leader ; 
 ' it's not likely that the still '11 be removed before 
 morning, and we can come back earl)- and break 
 
 it; 
 
 ' Suppose you pitch the still out of the cave, 1 said
 
 204 PERFERVID 
 
 Strongsoul. ' It would be smashed against the 
 rocks.' 
 
 ' The kelpie for ever ! ' cried the leader. 
 
 It took three of them to carry the still up the 
 steep incline, while the fourth went before and told 
 those below what was about to be done. The natural 
 platform at the mouth of the cave extended a little 
 way up the ravine, so that they were able to keep 
 clear of the tree in pitching over the still. They 
 threw it, clanging, against the opposite wall. It 
 bounced back, and struck the side from which it was 
 sent some yards down. Once again before reaching 
 the bottom it crossed the space between the rocks, 
 ringing out a hollow sound that echoed away up into 
 the sky and seemed to fill the whole night. It fell 
 with a dull crash right on the spot where the giantess 
 had lain ; and they knew that no more whisky would 
 come from that still. 
 
 Having thrown the horn and the worm out into 
 the glen, they descended one by one. When they 
 were all down the leader cried, ' Three cheers for the 
 kelpie ! ' But Strongsoul was nowhere to be seen. 
 Nevertheless he insisted on the three cheers. How 
 the shout rolled among the rocks and up and down 
 the glen, cheering Strongsoul as he ran back to his 
 cave !
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 205 
 
 One of the men twisted the worm round his 
 body ; .'mother blew a blast on the crooked horn ; 
 and with torches ablaze, and in the best of spirits, 
 the gallant eight went down the glen, laughing and 
 singing, and speculating as to the amount of money 
 to be divided among them.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY — Concluded 
 
 It was impossible for Strongsoul to sleep. He 
 wanted to, because his brain was in a whirl, but just 
 on that account sleep kept away from him. Where 
 had Grislybeard taken Saunders, and what had he 
 done with him ? By what vent did the smoke of the 
 fire get out of the cave ? What had been done with 
 the windlass and cage? In spite of himself these 
 questions kept constantly in his mind. He lay for 
 an hour with his eyes shut, but at the end of it sleep 
 was as far away as ever. He sat up in despair, and 
 opening his eyes perceived that day was dawning, 
 for he was able to distinguish the entrance to his 
 cave. It was very faintly marked* — so faintly that, 
 to make certain, he walked towards the oblong patch 
 of darkness less dark than that which surrounded it, 
 and nearly fell into the water ; there could, therefore, 
 be no doubt that it was the door. He stood in it,
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 207 
 
 and was soon able to sec the opposite rock, then the 
 water, and, looking out, the entrance to the passage. 
 Beyond in the open glen there was more light 
 
 He ate some of his scones and cheese, and sling- 
 ing his boots and stockings round his neck went 
 into the glen. I Ie had a pair of dry stockings, but 
 his boots were so damp that he found it impossible 
 to get them on. I Ie placed his boots where he 
 thought they would catch the sun, and then in his 
 stocking-feet went to the giant's cleft. lie crept 
 down to the cracked still, and walked along as far as 
 he could, but there was no appearance of any second 
 opening into the cave. Hardly had he turned to go 
 back when he heard voices, and then a crash. He 
 was too far from the mouth of the cleft to see who 
 were the speakers, but he noticed that the tree had 
 fallen. Very glad he was now that he hadn't his 
 boots on, for he was able to walk without making any 
 noise. The path was littered with stones and rocks, 
 which made it necessary for him to watch his steps. 
 About half-way back to the mouth of the cleft he 
 looked up. There, on the platform, stood Grislybcard 
 and two men planting the windlass. Strongsoul 
 crouched down behind a large rock and watched. 
 
 As soon as the windlass was adjusted Grislybcard 
 and one of the men went back into the cave, and
 
 2o8 PERFERVID 
 
 returned shortly, carrying Mrs. Grislybeard. Strong- 
 soul heard her groan, so he knew, much to his regret, 
 that he hadn't killed her. Grislybeard placed her in 
 the cage, and putting one foot on either side and 
 holding on by the chain bade the men lower away. 
 From where Strongsoul lay it was impossible to see 
 the cage reach the ground. Soon, however, the men 
 began to wind it up. Two others had appeared by 
 this time, each with a little barrel in his arms. These 
 two entered the cage the moment it reached the 
 platform and were rapidly lowered. When the cage 
 had been wound up again the men undid the wind- 
 lass and took everything back to the cave. Strong- 
 soul began to creep along the ravine with the 
 intention of following Grislybeard when he saw the 
 tree erected again, and in a little while the other men 
 reappeared and descended by it. 
 
 Where was Saunders ? In the cave, alive or 
 dead — Strongsoul felt certain of that. It must be a 
 double cave, he thought, and they had failed to find 
 the way into the second one in their search during 
 the night. Why had Grislybeard left the tree 
 standing ? To this question also he found an answer 
 which satisfied himself : to have left the tree on the 
 ground would have been a sign that the smugglers 
 had been at the cave since the search-party visited it.
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 209 
 
 Strongsoul took out his book and read the account 
 of the siege of Doubting Castle, and of the deaths of 
 Giant Despair and his wife Diffidence. Then he 
 advanced boldly to the mouth of the cleft and climbed 
 the tree. He walked straight into the cave and 
 searched it up and down. Nothing was changed 
 since he saw it in the night, except that the smoke 
 was gone. Looking up he saw a shaft of light 
 piercing the gloom near the roof. It came through 
 the wall in which the entrance was, and the crevice 
 which admitted it he took to be the vent through 
 which the smoke escaped. He sat down on a box 
 and considered. An idea struck him like a flash. He 
 followed with his eye the shaft of light, and saw that 
 it was not stopped by the side of the cave opposite 
 that through which it entered. It was perfectly clear, 
 then, that the inner side did not reach the roof. He 
 piled boxes and barrels on the top of each other, and 
 in that way got so far up. Then, by means of holes 
 in the rock, not without some scratches, he succeeded 
 in reaching the top of the wall, which was about three 
 feet from the roof. Finding that he could walk down 
 on the other side, he waited until his eyes were accus- 
 tomed to the greater darkness. He then began to 
 explore this second cave. 
 
 He found numerous barrels, a rope-ladder attached 
 
 P
 
 2 i o PERFERVID 
 
 to the wall and ready to fling over, the windlass and 
 the cage, and, in a corner, Saunders. He knelt 
 beside him and found that he was alive, but tied up 
 with ropes and gagged. Strongsoul soon set him at 
 liberty. 
 
 1 It's me,' he said. 
 
 ' Wha ? You ! Tak' me tae my granny.' 
 
 ' Come, come,' said Strongsoul ; ' I'll give you 
 some whisky.' 
 
 Strongsoul knocked the bung into one of the 
 barrels and made Saunders drink. The whisky 
 revived him at once, and he began to collect his 
 scattered senses. 
 
 'Man,' he said, ' I'm real glad tae see ye, but my 
 banes are awfu' sair.' 
 
 He tried to stretch himself, but gave it up with a 
 groan. 
 
 1 We must get out of here,' said Strongsoul. 
 
 ' Man, I'm real glad tae see ye,' said Saunders 
 again. ' They tell't me that I would lie here till I 
 dee't.' 
 
 ' You'll tell me all about it when we get out,' said 
 Strongsoul, flinging the rope-ladder over the wall. 
 Saunders went down very shakily, Strongsoul keeping 
 only two steps below him lest he should stumble. 
 The next difficulty was the tree. Strongsoul went
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY -mi 
 
 down and held it at the bottom, and Saunders fol- 
 lowed with many twinges and qualms, but he landed 
 all right, and was much the better of the exercise. 
 Difficulty number three was the getting into Strong- 
 soul's cave. At first Saunders flatly refused to 
 attempt it. However, the sight of the case and 
 agility with which Strongsoul moved along the ledge 
 gave him courage, and he found that it was as easy 
 as it seemed. He was soon munching away at oat- 
 cake and cheese, while Strongsoul gave him a history 
 of his adventures since they parted. 
 
 Saunders had not so much to tell. The giantess's 
 left leg and some of her ribs were broken. They 
 had paid no attention to him until the still was set 
 agoing, and then the giant cross-questioned him, 
 slapping him in the face, and pinching his arms and 
 pulling his ears when he wouldn't answer. Finally 
 they flung him in a corner with a crust of bread, 
 while they supped on cold meat and whisky. They 
 talked low, but Saunders heard enough to understand 
 that they were discussing how to procure surgical 
 assistance for the giantess, and the prospects of their 
 illicit trade. While they were still at supper he fell 
 into an uneasy sleep, from which he was awakened 
 by the giant pulling his arm violently. They made 
 him ascend the ladder into the second cave, and
 
 212 PERFERVID 
 
 there they gagged him. He heard everything that 
 was said and done by the search-party, and tried till 
 his heart was like to burst to cry out to Strongsoul. 
 Tt was after the search-party had left the cave that 
 they tied him up and told him to lie there and die. 
 He heard confusedly the noise of the departure of 
 the smugglers, but remembered nothing with distinct- 
 ness from the time they bound him until Strongsoul 
 untied him. His story ended, Saunders said, ' An' 
 noo I think we should ging hame.' 
 
 Strongsoul stared at him in blank amazement. 
 Were they not having adventures of a much more 
 extraordinary kind than they had dared to hope for 
 — at least until they came to the City of Destruction? 
 And had not he, Saunders, already earned a high rank 
 among pilgrims by his cruel sufferings ? Saunders 
 had forgotten that point of view and was staggered 
 a little. 
 
 ' But what's it a' tae end in ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' End in ! ' cried Strongsoul ; ' the Celestial City. 
 But before that the Land of Beulah. We shall get 
 there while we are still boys, and there we shall fall 
 in love with beautiful girls and marry them, and, 
 like Christiana's children, live there for a long time 
 before crossing the river. Listen,' cried Strongsoul, 
 and he opened his book and read.
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 213 
 
 Here Cosmo took from his pocket a little dumpy 
 book, and holding it out said, ' This was the book- 
 that Strongsoul took on his pilgrimage.' Then, 
 having found the place, he said, ' This is the passa 
 he read to Saunders.' And he read as follows : — 
 
 ' " After this I beheld until they were come into 
 the Land of Beulah, where the sun shincth night 
 and day. Here because they were weary they took 
 themselves a while to rest. And because the country 
 was common to pilgrims, and because the orchards 
 and vineyards that were here belonged to the king 
 of the Celestial country, therefore they were licensed 
 to make bold with any of his things. But a little 
 while soon refreshed them here : for the bells did so 
 ring and the trumpets continually sound so melodi- 
 ously that they could not sleep, and yet they received 
 as much refreshing as if they had slept their sleep 
 ever so soundly. Here also the noise of them that 
 walked the streets was, More pilgrims have come to 
 town ! And another would answer, saying, And so 
 many went over the water and were let in at the 
 golden gates to-day ! They would cry again, There 
 is now a legion of shining ones just come to town, 
 by which we know that there arc more pilgrims upon 
 the road ; for here they come to wait for them, and 
 to comfort them after their sorrow ! Then the
 
 214 PERFERVID 
 
 pilgrims got up and walked to and fro. But how 
 were their ears now filled with heavenly voices, and 
 their eyes delighted with celestial visions ! In this 
 land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, 
 smelt nothing, tasted nothing, that was offensive to 
 their stomach or mind ; only when they tasted of the 
 water of the river over which they were to go they 
 thought that it tasted a little bitterish to the palate, 
 but it proved sweet when it was down. 
 
 '" In this place the children of the town would go 
 into the king's gardens, and gather nosegays for the 
 pilgrims, and bring them to them with much affec- 
 tion. Here also grew camphire with spikenard and 
 saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all the trees of 
 frankincense, myrrh and aloes with all chief spices. 
 With these the pilgrims' chambers were perfumed 
 while they stayed here ; and with these were their 
 bodies anointed to prepare them to go over the 
 river when the time appointed was come." 
 
 Strongsoul's voice thrilled through Saunders in 
 this reading. His face shone, and his eyes burned 
 so brightly that Saunders was ashamed to look at 
 him. 
 
 ' Will you come ? ' he said. 
 I will,' replied Saunders.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 215 
 
 Then they both lay down and slept, and dreamt 
 of the Land of Beulah, and of beautiful little girls 
 with golden hair and earnest blue eyes who brought 
 them bunches of grapes and peaches, and sweet- 
 smelling flowers ; and when they awoke it was 
 almost noon. They bathed themselves in the 
 stream, ate the remainder of the provisions the 
 good wife had given them, and set out on their 
 travels once more. They left the glen as soon as 
 possible and climbed to the shoulder of the hill. 
 Looking south-east in the direction of the City of 
 Destruction they spied in the distance a large and 
 fair building, which reminded Strongsoul of the 
 Palace Beautiful. 
 
 ' It is certainly a palace,' he said. ' We will 
 journey towards it.' 
 
 Straight across hill and dale they took their way, 
 and as they went they talked. 
 
 ' Saunders,' said Strongsoul, ' have you been 
 thinking lately of Weights and Measures ? ' 
 
 ' I gie ye my word,' said Saunders, ' they havena' 
 crossed my mind sin' we met the giant. Twa mair 
 days like yesterday an' I wouldna' ken the differ 
 atween Troy Weight an' Square Measure! 
 
 ' We shall have many days like yesterday,' said 
 Strongsoul ; but seeing Saunders's face fall he added,
 
 216 PERFERVID 
 
 ' I mean as full of adventures — not that you'll ever 
 suffer so much again.' 
 
 ' Man, I carina' see what's the gude o' this 
 sufferin'.' 
 
 ' It's to make us strong and hardy, and enjoy the 
 land of Beulah and the Celestial City all the more 
 when we come to them. All the good that's in 
 people is brought out by their having to suffer — 
 anyway it ought to be.' 
 
 'Eh, man!' cried Saunders. 'I've heard my 
 granny say somethin' like that, but she'd little hope 
 o' me. She used tae say I mindit her o' a proverb, 
 " Mash snaw an' mask it, ye'll hae but water." She 
 was aye hard on me, my granny.' 
 
 ' I never had a granny,' said Strongsoul. 
 
 ' VVeel, ye needna' compleen. My granny has a 
 rhyme that she's aye comin' owre — 
 
 ' " Gin ye're an anvil, haud ye still ; 
 Gin ye're a hammer, smite yer fill." 
 
 And she's been a hammer sin' I kenned her, an' 
 a'body else is anvils.' 
 
 Strongsoul laughed at this, and told Saunders 
 that he ought to be glad, because many pilgrims 
 had to forsake people whom they liked a great deal 
 better than he did his granny.
 
 COSMO M< IRTIMER'S STORY 217 
 
 ' Oh, but she's no a bad body, mind ye,' said 
 Saunders. ' She kens a thing or twa, an' she's 
 crouse encuch tae, if she would n a' be juist sae 
 camstairie.' 
 
 ' By the bye,' said Strongsoul, ' have you had any 
 dreams ? ' 
 
 Aboot a new name ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' Xa ; it's no likely, noo, that my name will be 
 changed till we come to the City o' Destruction,' said 
 Saunders. ' But dae ye think there's muckle truth 
 in dreams ? ' 
 
 ' All the dreams of pilgrims come true,' said 
 Strongsoul. 
 
 ' 1 )ac they, man ? ' 
 
 ' Oh yes ! ' 
 
 They were silent for a little. Then Saunders 
 said, ' An' thae wee lassies in the Land o' Beuley.' 
 
 ' What about them ? ' 
 
 ' Man,' said Saunders with some hesitation, coming 
 close up to Strongsoul, ' I dreamt aboot them.' 
 
 Now Strongsoul had dreamt about them too, 
 but he only said, ' And what did you dream ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, no muckle ; juist what you read. A lassie 
 \vi' gowden hair an' blue cen cam' tae me cannily, 
 an' gied me a flo'or an' a bunch o' grapes, an'
 
 !l8 
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 smiled couthily, an' syne gaed awa' lookin' owre 
 her shouther. An', man, she was bonny, an' I 
 likit her, an' I never could be fashed \vi' lassies 
 
 ■ "MM. 
 
 afore. What dae ye think is the meanin' o' my 
 dream ? ' 
 
 ' I think it means that you will some day like 
 girls.' 
 
 ' Dae ye ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.'
 
 COS.Mo MORTIMER'S STORY 219 
 
 'Man, I'il be glad o that; for they're bonny bit 
 things — thae in the Land o' Beuley.' 
 
 Then Strongsoul told his dream, which was pretty 
 much like Saunders's ; and they walked along arm-in- 
 arm saying nothing, but with flushed faces thinking 
 about the little blue-eyed girls in the Land of Beulah. 
 
 Hunger put an end to their day-dream. The 
 palace was still a long way off, and Strongsoul's feet 
 were tired and sore, for his boots had been dried in 
 the sun till they were as hard as horn. He sank 
 down, saying, ' I must have a rest.' 
 
 'An' I maun hae somethin' tac eat,' cried 
 Saunders. 
 
 He climbed up a little higher than they were, 
 but there was no house in sight except the palace. 
 He saw that the way to it would be much shortened 
 if they were to return to the road. So he hailed 
 Strongsoul, who clambered up beside him, and agreed 
 with him that they ought to get back to the high- 
 way. They both took off their boots and stockings, 
 and found it very pleasant scampering down the 
 hillside, the very idea of the change from the hill to 
 the once-despised highway giving them new strength. 
 Strongsoul felt particularly delighted at his own 
 delight in getting back to the narrow way. 
 
 They found it much more agreeable than it had
 
 2 20 PERFERVID 
 
 been the day before, because there were trees on 
 both sides — fine old chestnuts whose branches met 
 and made a roof as far as they could see. The sun 
 came through in showers and spots and splatches. 
 There was no wind, and the dust lay on the road 
 like a thick Brussels carpet. They amused them- 
 selves by walking now in the sunshine, now in the 
 shadow, the difference in the heat of the dust being 
 always wonderful to them. A mile of this road, 
 which did not tire them in the least, brought them 
 to the porter's lodge. They washed their feet in a 
 stream by the wayside and put on their boots, and 
 tried to make themselves look as decent as pos- 
 sible. But Strongsoul's clothes were torn, and poor 
 Saunders's, besides being torn, were very threadbare. 
 Then their faces were black and blue, and yellow 
 and green, with the blows they had given each other 
 in their first encounter, and the knocks they had 
 received in their fight with Grislybeard. It was no 
 wonder that the woman who came out of the porter's 
 lodge as they entered the gate looked at them 
 suspiciously. Strongsoul approached her quite un- 
 conscious of anything odd in his conduct or appear- 
 ance — for pilgrims must become travel-stained and 
 wayworn — and asked what was the name of the 
 palace.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 221 
 
 ' What'n a palace ? ' saitl the woman. 
 
 ' Arc you not the portress?' asked Strongsoul. 
 
 The woman looked at them stupidly. Strongsoul 
 then asked her if the porter was in. Again the 
 woman made no reply, and Strongsoul being at the 
 end of his questions turned from her and started up 
 the avenue with Saunders. The woman gazed at 
 them for a minute, and then ran after them, and 
 seized Strongsoul by the collar and said, ' Ye canna' 
 go up.' 
 
 ' How ? W'c are pilgrims,' said Strongsoul. 
 
 ' It docsna' matter. Ye canna' go up.' 
 
 The woman looked very determined, but Strong- 
 soul gave her the sixpence which the goodwifc had 
 given him. Amazed at receiving money from one 
 whom she supposed a beggar she let them go. 
 
 The avenue was long and uphill, and they were 
 out of breath when they arrived at the courtyard. 
 On entering it they found a great bustle : so busy 
 was everybody that the}- were unnoticed for a time. 
 
 The palace was in two divisions, one old and 
 one new ; and there was a very magnificent terraced 
 garden in front of it, which Strongsoul and Saunders 
 couldn't enough admire. In it there was being 
 erected a great white tent. Arches were going up 
 in the courtyard and in the gateway, and garlands
 
 222 PERFERVID 
 
 of flowers were being hung over doors and in 
 windows. They saw a man going about very 
 authoritatively, and they thought of addressing him, 
 when a tall and dignified gentleman entered the 
 courtyard from the modern building and talked to 
 the authoritative individual, who listened with great 
 humility. The dignified gentleman having given his 
 instructions was about to retire when Strongsoul 
 with Saunders at his heels stepped in his way. 
 
 ' Sir,' said Strongsoul, ' are you the keeper of this 
 palace ? ' 
 
 The dignified gentleman looked at the pilgrims 
 impassively, and turned round as if to summon the 
 authoritative individual, but he thought better of it 
 and said coldly, ' I am, if you call it a palace.' 
 
 ' Is it not a palace then?' asked Strongsoul. 
 
 The dignified gentleman again turned towards 
 the authoritative individual, who was watching the 
 interview some yards off, evidently anticipating a 
 summons to remove Strongsoul and Saunders ; but 
 again the gentleman changed his mind. Something 
 in Strongsoul's face — something of earnestness, 
 bordering on passion, for we know what a devoted 
 pilgrim Strongsoul was — attracted him, so he said 
 less coldly, ' This is Moredun Castle.' 
 
 ' And are pilgrims entertained here ? '
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 223 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' 
 
 ' This is the pilgrim Saunders Elshander, and i am 
 the pilgrim Strongsoul. We arc on our way to the 
 City of Destruction ; and, sir, \vc have had nothing 
 to cat except some bread and cheese since last night. 
 We thought that this was a place for the refreshment 
 of pilgrims, so \vc came here.' 
 
 During this little speech Saunders was doing his 
 best to hide behind Strongsoul, but being fully a 
 foot taller had no very great success. He watched 
 the expression of the keeper's face, and was in the 
 act of twitching Strongsoul's sleeve and running off 
 when the keeper said, ' How long have you been 
 pilgrims ?' 
 
 'Since yesterday morning, sir.' 
 And where do you come from ?' 
 From Dunmyatt.' 
 
 ' But that's not so very far away. You can't 
 have been all this time coming from Dunmyatt' 
 
 ' Xo, sir. We were taken captive by Giant 
 Grislybeard, and Saunders was kept a prisoner all 
 night.' 
 
 ' \\ no is Giant Grislybeard ? But come in.' 
 
 The keeper of the palace or castle preceded them, 
 and led them through a great hall into a room full 
 of books and pictures.
 
 224 PERFERVID 
 
 ' You are hungry, 1 think,' he said. 
 
 ' Yes, sir,' said Strongsoul. 
 
 ' You will have something to eat immediately.' 
 
 He was about to leave the room when a little girl 
 entered. She stood stock-still with amazement on 
 seeing the pilgrims, and they returned her gaze with 
 intense interest. The little lady was not quite so tall 
 as Strongsoul ; she had beautiful golden hair and blue 
 eyes, and in a basket which she carried were some 
 lovely flowers. 
 
 ' These are two pilgrims, Pansy,' said the keeper 
 of the castle. ' They are on their way to the City 
 of Destruction, and they are hungry, and we must 
 give them something to eat.' 
 
 ' Oh, papa ! ' cried Pansy. ' Pilgrims ! Just like 
 The Pilgrim's Progress ? ' 
 
 ' It seems so,' said the keeper, with a smile. 
 
 ' But it can't be,' said Pansy. ' Are you real and 
 true pilgrims ? ' she said to Strongsoul. 
 
 ' Yes ; we are pilgrims on our way through the 
 City of Destruction to the Land of Beulah and the 
 Celestial City,' said Strongsoul eagerly, and Pansy 
 was convinced. 
 
 ' How delightful ! ' she said. ' Oh, papa, let me 
 look after them.' 
 
 ' Very well. I hope you will excuse me,' said the
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 225 
 
 keeper, turning to the pilgrims ; ' I am very busy. 
 My daughter will see that you are attended to. 1 
 
 When the keeper had left the room Pans)- said, 
 ' Now, what would you like to cat ? ' 
 
 ' Just what you are in the habit of giving pilgrims,' 
 said Strongsoul. 
 
 ' But we have never had pilgrims before,' said 
 Pansy. 'What would you like?' addressing Saunders. 
 
 ' Weel, mem,' said Saunders with considerable 
 diffidence, ' a cog o' parritch an' a bit ham an' egg 
 would dae me.' 
 
 This was the height of luxury in eating hitherto 
 attained by Saunders, and that on two occasions 
 when he had breakfasted with his master, the grocer. 
 He referred to it now because he wished to let the 
 little lady know that he had some acquaintance with 
 good living. Pansy lifted and laid one foot after the 
 other like a little restive pony, and winked and flashed 
 her eyes at the broad Scotch. 
 
 'I think I'll have to give you what there is to 
 get. That'll be the best way,' she said. 
 
 ' Verra weel, mem,' said Saunders. ' We're no 
 ill tae please.' 
 
 • Do you always speak like that ? ' asked Pansy, 
 for in her cars Saunders's speech was coarse and 
 
 vulgar. 
 
 ( i
 
 226 
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 Saunders blushed and looked sheepish, and Pansy 
 was sorry. She was about to speak when she noticed 
 her flowers, and lifting a lily in her rosy hand 
 she gave it to Saunders, looking a sweet apology. 
 Saunders couldn't speak, but he made a very low 
 
 bow, unlike anything 
 Pansy had ever seen, but 
 not at all awkward, quite 
 simple and expressive. 
 She gave Strongsoul a 
 red rose, beside which 
 her rosy hand looked a 
 lily ; and Strongsoul did 
 as Saunders had done, 
 feeling that it was more 
 beautiful to do so than to 
 speak. 
 
 As Pansy left the 
 room she looked over her 
 shoulder and smiled. The 
 moment she had gone Saunders and Strongsoul, 
 sighing together a great long-pent sigh, turned and 
 saw in one another's eyes that each had beheld his 
 dream. 
 
 Pansy was some time in returning, because she 
 found it difficult to get anybody to attend to her
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 2 2 7 
 
 orders, so busy were they with their festive pre- 
 parations ; and then when she had secured the 
 services of a boy who knew more about the stable 
 than the dining-room, her nurse laid hold of her and 
 dressed her for riding. She rebelled at first, but 
 nurse told her, knowing how much she loved her 
 father, that he had been very particular in arranging 
 that she should have her ride in spite of the turmoil 
 in which the castle was : Pansy was a delicate girl. 
 and was also the Lady Violet Morcdun, daughter of 
 the Duke of Morcdun — his only child — and the 
 doctor had ordered her to ride every day for her 
 health. Her mother had been dead for several years, 
 and the relations between father and daughter were 
 most intimate and affectionate. 
 
 When Pansy got back to the pilgrims she burst 
 out laughing. The table was spread, and the pilgrims 
 sat at it, but neither of them had dared to touch any- 
 thing. The boy who waited on them stood behind 
 Saunders's chair with a cover in his hand and a nap- 
 kin in his mouth to cork back the laughter. Pansy's 
 laughter made him laugh out too — the pilgrims 
 looked so ridiculous sitting there as stiff as pokers 
 with their hands on their knees and faces of creat 
 solemnity, blushing at the beautiful plates and the 
 silver knives and forks.
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STORY 
 
 'You may go,' Pansy said to the servant, and he 
 
 left the room. 
 
 ' Eat, cat,' she said. ' I'm sure you're hungry. 
 Eat a great lot — eat everything. Nobody will come 
 here until I return from my ride.' She swept out of 
 the room in her riding-habit like the little lady she- 
 was. 
 
 Saunders and Strongsoul tried to follow the in- 
 structions of Pans}-, but failed to do anything more 
 than diminish slightly the good things provided for 
 them. Having eaten as much as they could, and 
 more than was good for them, they looked out of 
 the window and watched the bustle in the garden. 
 An hour passed, and they were beginning to be 
 restless when they noticed a commotion. All the 
 servants and workmen rushed up the terrace, evidently 
 making for the courtyard. The pilgrims, fearing 
 that something had happened to Pansy, ran out of 
 the castle to learn what was the matter. 
 
 The groom who had ridden with Pansy stood 
 frightened and breathless in the centre of a crowd 
 telling the duke something. The pilgrims pushed 
 forward within hearing, and the duke said as the 
 groom finished his story, ' 1 don't understand you.' 
 
 lie was very white, and he would have fallen had 
 not a gentleman who stood beside him caught him
 
 230 PERFERVID 
 
 in his arms. The gentleman was Lord Francis Lear- 
 mont, the duke's brother. 
 
 ' What is it ? ' said the duke to the groom. ' Tell 
 me again.' 
 
 Then the groom told how the Lady Violet had 
 ridden along a favourite road of hers which led out 
 of the policies into a great wood ; how, shortly after 
 they had entered the wood, his horse shrieked and 
 fell, and he himself was clutched by two men and 
 his eyes bandaged, but not before he had seen the 
 Lady Violet's horse fall also and two other men lay 
 hold of her ; how he had been held there for some 
 time and then dragged away into the wood and left 
 lying in a thicket with his hands tied ; how he 
 managed to slip his hands out of the rope, and after 
 some searching had found his way back to the road 
 where both horses lay hamstrung ; and how he had 
 then run straight to the castle without a halt. 
 
 ' It can't be,' said the duke. ' It's impossible. 
 Such things aren't done nowadays.' 
 
 The groom called God to witness that it was true : 
 the horses were there in the road to prove it. 
 
 Strongsoul waited to hear no more. He pulled 
 Saunders by the sleeve and they moved out of the 
 crowd. 
 
 ' Get the pillowslip,' said Strongsoul.
 
 COsMo MORTIMER'S STORY 2 1 1 
 
 Saunders ran into the house and brought it. 
 
 The lowest room in the old tower was an armoury, 
 and the door of it stood open. Stron oul went in 
 and took two naked swords. These he wrapped 
 in the pillowslip, and followed by the wondering 
 Saunders set off running to the highway. At first 
 they ran so quickly that Saunders for lack of breath 
 could put no question, but when they had to slacken 
 their pace he inquired where they were going. 
 
 'To the cave,' said Strongsoul. 'This is Grisly- 
 beard's work.' 
 
 ' Hoo dae ye ken ? ' said Saunders. 
 
 1 I don't know how I know, but I know.' 
 
 Saunders felt that there was nothing more to be 
 said, so he took the pillowslip from Strongsoul to give 
 him a rest, and they marched along together with 
 white resolute faces. As soon as they were out of the 
 highway Strongsoul took the pillowslip and threw it 
 away, and they went up the glen sword in hand. 
 To Saunders's surprise they had not the least diffi- 
 culty in finding the road ; but Strongsoul was not 
 at all astonished, for he knew that the steps of 
 pilgrims, when they are on an enterprise such as they 
 had undertaken, are specially directed. 
 
 Strongsoul made Saunders keep at some distance 
 behind him as they drew near the cave, so that if
 
 232 PERFERVID 
 
 one were taken the other might escape ; but they 
 arrived at the cleft without meeting any one. The 
 tree was down, and on going up the glen a little way 
 they saw that the windlass had been placed on the 
 platform. By this they knew that Grislybeard and 
 his men were in the cave — with Pansy, Strongsoul 
 was certain. 
 
 ' What'll we dae noo ? ' asked Saunders. 
 
 ' Go down the glen and hide behind a tree. If 
 Grislybeard hasn't found out your escape by this 
 time he will soon, and then he will know that the 
 inner cave has been discovered.' 
 
 ' An' what then ? ' 
 
 ' Then they'll leave the cave. Don't you see ? ' 
 
 ' An' what'll we dae ? ' 
 
 ' Attack them as they pass.' 
 
 ' A' richt,' said Saunders, flourishing his sword. 
 
 Just then sounds came from the platform, so they 
 hurried down the glen and got in behind some alder 
 bushes. In a few minutes they heard the footsteps 
 of a man approaching. 
 
 'You jump out behind him. I'll jump in front of 
 him,' said Strongsoul. 'Stop! One — two — three!' 
 and the man was between the points of their 
 swords. 
 
 ' Stand ! ' cried Strongsoul ; but there was no
 
 COSMi » MORTIMER'S STORY 
 
 need, for the man stood still enough in the utm 
 amazement. 
 
 ' Have they discovered the escape of Saunders?' 
 
 No answer. 
 
 'Have they discovered the escape of Saunders?' 
 
 Still no answer. 
 
 'Speak, or I'll run you through.' 
 
 At this moment Saunders in his excitement 
 pricked the man in the back. He writhed and v 
 in the act of crying out, but Strongsoul touched him 
 on the breast, saying, 'And if you shout I'll run you 
 through.' 
 
 ' What do you want ? ' said the man angrily. 
 
 1 Speak quietly, or I'll run you through,' said 
 Strongsoul. 
 
 Again Saunders unintentionally pricked him, and 
 the man wheeled about. 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' he cried. 
 
 ' I'll rin ye through,' said Saunders. 
 Then Strongsoul in his turn pricked him in the 
 back, and he span round with a curse. 
 
 'You're to talk to me,' said Strongsoul. ' Have 
 they discovered the escape of Saunders ? ' 
 
 • Yes.' 
 
 ' Where are you going ? ' 
 
 ' To my house."
 
 234 PERFERVID 
 
 ' What for ? ' 
 
 ' My supper.' 
 
 ' That's not true.' 
 
 Saunders raised his eyebrows ; Strongsoul nodded, 
 and the man got another prick in the back. If it 
 had been planned and rehearsed it couldn't have 
 been more prompt. 
 
 ' Every time you tell a lie you'll be jagged in the 
 back,' said Strongsoul. ' What are you going home 
 for ? ' 
 
 ' For a pick and a spade,' said the man surlily. 
 
 ' What are you going to do with them ? ' 
 
 ' I'm going to dig.' 
 
 ' Dig what ? ' 
 
 ' Potatoes.' 
 
 ' With a pick ! ' said Strongsoul, nodding to 
 Saunders, who at once stuck the point of his sword 
 into the man for the fourth time. He was in the 
 act of turning round when Strongsoul pricked him 
 in the right arm. 
 
 ' Every time you turn round I'll jag you,' said 
 Strongsoul. 
 
 The man sank down on the ground swearing 
 terribly. Had he been courageous, at the expense 
 of a cut or two he could have overcome both boys ; 
 but he recognised Saunders, and he guessed who
 
 COSMl I MORTIMER'S STORY 
 
 Strongsoul was, and feared him, knowing how he 
 had attacked Grislybeard and toiled the gianti 
 
 'What are you going to do with the pick' and 
 spade?' asked Strongsoul. 
 
 ' Dig a grave.' 
 
 ' Whose grave ? ' 
 
 The man was silent for a second or two ; then he 
 said, ' Jenny's.' 
 
 'Who's Jenny?' 
 
 ' The boss's wife.' 
 
 •Oh, Airs. Grislybeard! 1 
 
 Strongsoul nodded, and Saunders quickly per- 
 formed his part. The man sprang to his feet, but 
 in doing so lie received the points of both swords 
 and sank to the ground again. 
 
 ' W nose grave ? ' 
 
 'The Lady Violet Moredun's.' 
 
 ' Is she dead ? ' 
 
 ' Xo ; she's to be killed when I come back'.' 
 
 ' Why is she to be killed ? Come, tell the whole 
 story or we'll kill you.' 
 
 'Lord Francis Learmont,' said the man, squeezing 
 the words out, ' will be the duke's sole heir when 
 the Lady Violet's out of the way. He's given five 
 hundred pounds to us to do the job. Her throat's 
 to be cut and she's to be buried up there, and we're
 
 236 PERFERVID 
 
 all to cut to America — that is, us four. There's 
 other two that don't know anything about it. and if 
 the body's found they'll get the blame. It's the 
 safest thing ever done if it weren't for you.' The 
 man cursed them again and again. 
 
 ' How many men are there in the cave just 
 now ? ' 
 
 ' Three.' 
 
 ' That makes four with you ; but there were five 
 last night.' 
 
 ' Ay, but he's not in the secret. We had to set 
 the still agoing last night on his account, curse him. 
 Even with that he suspected something.' 
 
 ' Get up and take off your coat and hat.' 
 
 The man did so, and Strongsoul slipped them on 
 without putting his arms into the sleeves of the 
 coat. Having ordered Saunders to his side he said 
 to the man, ' If you speak or move without my 
 orders we'll both plunge our swords into you. 
 Forward.' 
 
 A yard from the cleft Strongsoul halted them. 
 He went into the entrance and made the man stand 
 behind him with the point of Saunders's sword 
 touching the back of his neck. 
 
 'You're to whistle,' said Strongsoul, 'and when 
 they answer cry out, " Take me up at once ; there
 
 COSMo MORTIMER'S STORY 
 
 are people in the glen." But if you let the tip of 
 
 your nose be seen Saunders will run you through.' 
 
 The prisoner whistled thrice and the answer 
 came. When the men appeared above Strongsoul 
 
 looked up, having the hat pulled down over his 
 brows and shading his face with his hand. The 
 prisoner shouted as he had been instructed, and the 
 cage came down at once. Strongsoul jumped in 
 and they drew him up. The moment lie reached 
 the platform he threw off the coat and hat, and 
 springing out of the cage stabbed one of the men in 
 the side. He fell shrieking. The other turned and 
 ran, but Strongsoul followed him, and making up on 
 him drove his sword through his right thigh so that 
 he also fell with a prolonged shriek, for Strongsoul 
 had some difficulty in withdrawing the blade. When 
 his sword was free he ran forward and met Grisly- 
 beard at the entrance of the cave. The giant was 
 armed with a heavy iron bar. 
 
 'You? Ha, ha! I've got ye now!' he cried, 
 heaving up his weapon. 
 
 Strongsoul rushed in under the blow and received 
 the bar on his left shoulder, but so near the giant's 
 hand that he hardly felt it ; at the same time he 
 cut the giant's left leg and got past him into the 
 cave. He looked about, but he could not see the
 
 238 PERFERVID 
 
 duke's daughter. She had crept behind the water- 
 barrel. 
 
 ' Pansy ! ' he cried. 
 
 She looked out, and recognising Strongsoul ran 
 towards him. 
 
 ' Oh, dear pilgrim,' she said, ' take me home ! ' 
 
 ' I will,' said Strongsoul. ' Stand back and 
 watch the fight.' 
 
 She ran to a corner and falling on her knees 
 clasped her hands and prayed. 
 
 Grislybeard bore down on Strongsoul, swinging 
 the bar with great rapidity from side to side. 
 Strongsoul could see no way of getting at him and 
 retreated slowly. The giant's intention was to force 
 him against a wall, and press the breath out of him. 
 This Strongsoul perceived, and keeping his eyes 
 fixed on the giant's sprang up into the air about 
 half his own height. This action had just the effect 
 he intended. The giant, surprised for a second, 
 ceased swinging his bar, and Strongsoul darting in 
 wounded him so severely in the right hand that he 
 let his weapon drop. It was now the giant's turn 
 to retreat. He ran in behind the water-barrel and 
 Strongsoul after him. They went round the barrel 
 and the fireplace several times until the giant who 
 was fleeter than Strongsoul had put such a distance
 
 COSMi > MORTIMER'S STl >RY 
 
 between them that he had time to stoop and pick up 
 one of the stones of the fireplace. With this he ran 
 to one side of the cave and stood at bay. 
 
 'Come on!' he cried, holding the stone above his 
 head with both hands. 
 
 Strongsoul moved towards him warily, but with- 
 out flinching. The blood was streaming from the 
 wound in the giant's hand, and he felt his strength 
 giving way. lie determined, therefore, to strike 
 while he had still the power to direct his huge 
 missile. Strongsoul paused in his advance, measur- 
 ing the distance between the giant and himself. 
 His plan was to run at Grislybeard as soon as he 
 discharged the stone, avoiding it as he had avoided 
 the stroke of the bar. Suddenly the giant with a 
 shout took two steps forward and hurled the piece 
 of rock with all his force ; and Strongsoul fell. But 
 the giant's aim had been unsteady. The stone 
 barely grazed the back of Strongsoul's head, and 
 although his shoulders caught it a little more heavily 
 he was unhurt. The giant stumbled down on him 
 before he could rise and seized his throat — not with 
 any great force, for he thought Strongsoul had 
 received the full weight of the stone and would give 
 him little more trouble. lie grinned hideously as 
 he said, 'You'll catch it now. my man, if there's any
 
 240 
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 life in you.' Just as he said that Strongsoul passed 
 his sword through the giant's body, and with a long- 
 drawn howl, ending in a groan, Grislybeard rolled 
 over dead. Then Strongsoul rose, and seizing him 
 
 by the hair of the head raised his sword to strike ; 
 but Pansy running from her corner caught his arm. 
 
 ' What are you going to do ? ' she said. 
 
 ' Cut off his head.' 
 
 ' Oh, don't do that ! '
 
 COSMi > M< »KI [MER'S STOl - t 1 
 
 'Why not? Greatheart always did it when he 
 killed a giant, and an angel told me in a dream that 
 I was to be equal to Greatheart. There are two 
 more in the passage,' said Stri il, his e) 
 
 blazing with triumph. ' I'll cut <>u their h< 
 too.' 
 
 But they're not dead,' said Pansy, pointing to 
 the door of the cave. 
 
 Strongsoul looked, and saw where the two 
 wounded men stood bleeding against the wall with 
 ghastly faces. 
 
 ' Then I must kill them,' he said. 
 
 • For God's sake don't ! ' both men cried feebly. 
 
 ' Oh, pilgrim, you must be merciful ! ' said 
 Pans)-. 
 
 ' Well,' said Strongsoul magnanimously, not alto- 
 gether likiner the idea of an attack on two wounded 
 and defenceless men, ' I'll not kill them ; but I mean 
 to cut off the giant's head,' and he twisted Grisly- 
 beard's hair round his wrist. 
 
 ' I'll never speak to you if you do.' said Pansy. 
 
 Strongsoul gazed at Pansy, and Pansy gazed at 
 him. Slowly he let go the giant's hair, and 
 wiped the blood from his sword on the giant's 
 clothes. 
 
 'Take me home.' said Pansy, turning away. 
 
 R
 
 242 PERFERVID 
 
 With a sigh and a lingering look at the giant's 
 head Strongsoul took Pansy's hand and led her to 
 the entrance. 
 
 'Go in,' he said to the wounded men. 
 
 Supporting each other they limped with many 
 groans to the box on which the water-barrel stood, 
 and leaning against it sat down on the ground. 
 They then tried to attend to each other's wounds. 
 
 ' They are suffering,' said Strongsoul compassion- 
 ately. ' Would it not be better to kill them and 
 put them out of their pain ? ' 
 
 ' No,' said Pansy. ' Let us be quick and send 
 them a doctor.' 
 
 With some reluctance Strongsoul assented to this. 
 He remembered how the giant had taken down Mrs. 
 Grislybeard, but he was at a loss how to regulate 
 the speed of the descent. Not for long, how- 
 ever. He found a rope in a corner, and made 
 a loop on each end of it. These he put over the 
 handles of the windlass, and holding the rope tightly 
 was able to control in a measure the revolution of 
 the cylinder. The last few feet they came down 
 with a run, for the rope gave out, but neither were 
 hurt. 
 
 ' Hoo mony hae ye kill't ? ' were the first words 
 Saunders said.
 
 COSMI ' MORTIMER'S STORY 
 
 ' Only one' 
 
 •That'll be twa then, for 1 think I've kill't this 
 one. lie thocht he could win owre me, an 1 I had 
 tae run him through.' 
 
 But the man said he was not dead. 
 
 • We'll send you a doctor, then,' said Str ul. 
 
 1 I hope yer leddyship's nane the waur, 1 said 
 Saunders to Pansy. 
 
 • I'm afraid I am,' she said. 'Will we be long in 
 getting home ? ' 
 
 Xot long, 1 said Strongsoul cheerfully. ' Come. 
 we'll help you.' 
 
 With some diffidence Tans}- slipped her arms into 
 the pilgrims'. The rough road soon made her hold 
 tight and lean hard, and by the time they got to the 
 highway she was laughing and chattering as if they 
 had been returning from a holiday. 
 
 Whom should they meet almost as soon as 
 they got to the road but some of the search-party 
 of the night before, including the gruff- voiced 
 leader ! 
 
 1 I [ere she is ! ' he cried. 
 
 B( >id th arch-party there were other people 
 in the road, and a crowd was immediately formed 
 round Tansy and the pilgrims. 
 
 •Stand aside! 1 said Strongsoul, raising his sword,
 
 244 PERFERVID 
 
 but Pansy touched his arm and told him that these 
 were friends. 
 
 ' That we are,' said the gruff-voiced man ; ' all of 
 us. Everybody round about's searching for you, my 
 lady.' 
 
 ' It's very kind of them,' said Pansy. ' How can 
 we get to Moredun Castle ? ' 
 
 ' I've a spring-cart,' said the man eagerly, ' if your 
 ladyship '11 condescend to use it.' 
 
 ' Oh, thank you ! ' cried Pansy. ' I'll only be too 
 glad.' 
 
 ' It's this way,' said the man, pointing to a stile. 
 
 Pansy and the pilgrims crossed the road. 
 
 ' Are these little rascals coming too ? ' said the 
 man. 
 
 Before Pansy could answer Strongsoul struck him 
 over the shoulders with the fiat of his sword. 
 
 ' Don't call people rascals without knowing them,' 
 he said. 
 
 ' I declare,' said the man, rubbing his shoulder, 
 ' it's the kelpie ! And is this another ? ' he asked, 
 pointing to Saunders. 
 
 ' These are the young gentlemen that saved my 
 life,' said Pansy. ' They are pilgrims, and they are 
 going back with me to Moredun. There are three 
 wounded men at the cave in the glen,' she added,
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S ST< >RY 
 
 245 
 
 addressing some of those who stood about. 'You 
 must get a doctor and go to them — and a policeman 
 too, I think.' 
 
 Headed by three of the members of the old 
 search-part}- a crowd set off up the glen in obedience 
 
 to Pans}-, while one or two went to the village of 
 Moredun for the doctor. 
 
 The gruff-voiced man's house not being very far 
 off he soon had his cart yoked and the}- got into it 
 without delay. They took a back road and saw no 
 one until thev arrived at the castle. 
 
 Strongsoul helped Pansy, down, and she took
 
 246 PERFERVID 
 
 his arm and Saunders's and walked into the hall. 
 There was only one footman to be seen, because all 
 the other servants were either engaged searching for 
 Pansy or in the kitchen or in attendance in other 
 rooms. The footman gazed in amazement, especially 
 at the swaggering gait of the gruff-voiced man, who 
 had followed the others into the castle. Pansy heard 
 him behind her and, turning, said, ' I thank you very 
 much. Papa will see you afterwards. Jones, will 
 you take him to the servants' room ? ' 
 
 The gruff-voiced man, rather crestfallen, had to 
 go away with the footman, while Pansy led Strong- 
 soul and Saunders to the drawing-room. When they 
 entered it the pilgrims drew in their breath and 
 turned giddy with astonishment. It was a long, 
 broad, high-ceiled room, and the splendour of it such 
 as neither of them had ever imagined. A number 
 of ladies and gentlemen stood in it, and one lady 
 dressed in black sat near a window. To her the 
 duke, who could hardly stand, he was so shaken 
 with grief, had just finished telling of the abduction 
 of his daughter when Pansy and the pilgrims 
 entered. 
 
 ' My lord duke,' said the lady, rising, ' you are a 
 brave man. You have stayed to welcome me when 
 your heart was wrung with this great anguish. I
 
 COsM<> MORTIMER - STORY 
 
 shall never forget it, and I thank' you from my heart. 
 Go now: I shall not expect to sec you again until 
 you have found my sweet little Pansy.' 
 
 As the lady said this she saw Pansy and the 
 pilgrims at the end of the room. She took a sti 
 forward and touching the shoulder of the duke, who 
 eyes were bent on the ground as he bowed pro- 
 foundly, pointed to the three children. The duke 
 turned and, forgetting in whose presence he was, ran 
 to Pansy and clasped her in his arms with a great 
 sobbing cry. He kissed her over and over ami led 
 her to the lad}-. 
 
 Pansy kissed the lady's hand and the lady kissed 
 her on the cheek. Then Pansy, moving backward- 
 took the pilgrims by the hands and led them to the 
 lad)-. 
 
 • This is the pilgrim Strongsoul,' said Pansy. 
 Strongsoul knelt down, and the lady gave him 
 
 her hand. 
 
 ■ This is the pilgrim Saunders Elshander,' said 
 Pansy. 
 
 tunders knelt beside Strongsoul, and the lady 
 . e him her hand also. 
 
 • Rise, good pilgrims,' said the lad}-, very much 
 .unused and interested. 
 
 Strongsoul and Saunders rose, and picking uo
 
 248 PERFERVID 
 
 their swords, which they had laid on the floor when 
 they knelt, stood on either side of Pansy. All the 
 ladies and gentlemen gathered round excited and 
 curious. 
 
 The lady looked at the duke, and the duke looked 
 at Pansy, and Pansy said, 'If you please, your 
 majesty, it is a long story. May I tell it?' 
 
 And the lady said ' Yes.' 
 
 Then Pansy told everything that had happened 
 to herself, and everything that Saunders and Strong- 
 soul had done for her ; and when she came to the 
 death of Grislybeard everybody started. 
 
 The lady said to Strongsoul, ' Do you think it 
 was right to kill this man ? ' 
 
 ' Yes,' said Strongsoul. 
 
 'Why?' 
 
 'Because if I hadn't killed him he would have 
 killed me, and because he was bad.' 
 
 ' Would you kill everybody who is bad ? ' 
 
 ' No,' said Strongsoul. ' Only those who will not 
 let others be good, and who are the enemies of 
 pilgrims.' 
 
 ' But what if you have committed murder ? ' said 
 
 the lady. 
 
 ' Murder ?' said Strongsoul dubiously. ' If Great- 
 heart was a murderer, so am I.'
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S ST( >!:', 
 
 249 
 
 'I acquit you,' said the lady, smilin 
 
 Then Pansy finished her story, and the lads- 
 looked at both pilgrims with great admiration. 
 
 'Give me your sword,' she said to Strongsoul. 
 1 You are a brave and noble boy,' said the lady 
 
 ; 
 
 m 1 . 
 
 I 
 
 when she had the sword. ' I wish you to be a 
 brave and noble man. What is your name ? ' 
 
 • Strongsoul.' 
 
 ' And what is your first name?' 
 
 ' That is all my name.' 
 
 ' Surely not.'
 
 250 PERFERVID 
 
 Strongsoul told the lad)' the dream he had 
 dreamt on the side of Dunmyatt, and the lady was 
 charmed with him. 
 
 She talked in whispers for a minute or two with 
 the duke, then she handed back the sword to 
 Strongsoul, and taking a ring from her finger put it 
 on his hand, saying, ' Since you have no first name 
 you shall be my Lord Strongsoul of Dunmyatt, and 
 when you are a man you may perhaps sit in the 
 House of Lords and help to govern my people.' 
 
 Strongsoul bent low, and Pansy with her eyes 
 dancing came and kissed him. 
 
 ' And what is your name ? ' said the lady to 
 Saunders. 
 
 ' Saunders Elshander, mem.' 
 
 ' Give me your sword, Saunders, and kneel 
 down.' 
 
 Then the lady struck him on the shoulders with 
 his sword and said, ' Rise, Sir Saunders Elshander ' ; 
 and Sir Saunders jumped up, and the lady gave 
 him his sword again. Pansy did not kiss Saunders, 
 but she pressed his hand very warmly. 
 
 ' And now, my lord,' said the lady to the duke, 
 ' do you know who has done or instigated this 
 thing ? ' 
 
 The duke did not know ; but Lord Strongsoul
 
 COsMo M0RTIM1 R'S 5T< IRY -' - i 
 
 told the lady what he had heard about Lord Fran 
 
 Learmont. 
 
 ■ Where is Lord Francis ? ' said the lady. 
 
 He is leading the search,' said the duke, who 
 seemed even more distressed at the news of his 
 brother than he had been at the abduction of Pansy. 
 
 ' Let Lord Francis Learmont come to me as 
 on as he returns,' said the lady. 
 
 Then they all went to dinner. The lady made 
 Lord Strongsoul of Dunmyatt and Sir Saunders 
 Elshander sit on her right hand and on her left. 
 and she talked to them during the dinner about 
 their pilgrimage. Now the lady knew The Pilgrim's 
 Progress quite well, and so she said to them, ' My 
 Lord Strongsoul of Dunmyatt and Sir Saunders 
 Elshander, as you know, I am the queen of these 
 countries, and 1 also am a pilgrim. I have, there- 
 fore, a great interest in the welfare of all pilgrims, 
 and I wish very much that your pilgrimage should 
 be successful. If you remember in The Pilgrim's 
 Progress there are no boys who travel alone ; they 
 are either in the company of their parents, or of a 
 guardian like Greatheart Now there are erected 
 in most of the towns in my dominions Interpreters' 
 Houses, called schools and colleges, where young 
 people, whether they have parents or not, are pre-
 
 252 PERFERVID 
 
 pared for pilgrimage, and I have been thinking that, 
 if you are willing, it would be wise of you to have 
 the instructions of one of these Interpreters before 
 going farther.' 
 
 Strongsoul bowed, and Saunders who took the 
 cue from him did likewise. Saunders expected 
 Strongsoul to say something, but as his leader kept 
 silence he ventured a remark of his own. 
 
 ' Mem,' he said, ' my faither's a shepherd, an' 
 forbye that, as my granny says, ye rnicht as weel try 
 tae shave an egg as get a bawbee oot o' him if he 
 can keep it at all.' 
 
 The lady smiled graciously on Saunders, and he 
 was about to follow up what he deemed a brilliant 
 beginning with some more family matters and quota- 
 tions from his granny — for he was anxious to go to 
 college, and wished to explain that he would require 
 help — when the lady engaged the duke in conversa- 
 tion, and Saunders did not find another opportunity 
 of stating his mind. 
 
 ' Saunders,' whispered Strongsoul as they passed 
 along a corridor after dinner, ' follow me.' 
 
 With some difficulty Strongsoul found the way 
 to the courtyard. There he addressed Saunders 
 very severely. 
 
 ' I am ashamed of you,' he began ; but he got
 
 COSMO MORTIMER'S STi IRY 
 
 no farther, for at that moment the fathers of the 
 pilgrims appeared and led them home. 
 
 Only the honorary steward and the honorary 
 porter were awake. The honorary se retary lay 
 with his head among the ruins of his pipe, and the 
 other two were crumpled up in their chairs like lay 
 figures. 
 
 The melancholy porter said, ' Strongsoul, of course, 
 was the son of Ninian Jamie-son.' 
 
 ' Oh ! ' said Cosmo, with a withering glance, ' that 
 actually occurs to you, docs it ? ' 
 
 ' When tlid this happen ? ' asked the timid steward 
 
 timidly. 
 
 ' Last summer," said Cosmo. 
 
 1 Hut.' said the timid man still more timidly, 
 • there was no royal visit to the Duke of Moredun 
 last summer.' 
 
 ' I've nothing to do with that. Young Jamieson 
 told a story to his father, his father told it to me, 
 and I have told it to you — for my own pleasure 
 entirely, observe you, not for yours. It would be 
 unbecoming in a Great Man to endeavour to enter- 
 tain others. Secretary, do your duty,' said Cosmo, 
 shaking that official roughly. 
 
 The honorary secretary started up, his hair
 
 2 54 
 
 PERFERVID 
 
 powdered with the ashes of his pipe, and fragments 
 of pipeclay sticking all over his face. Mechanically 
 he took out his watch, seized his tumbler, and 
 muttered in a sleepy voice, l This stated meeting of 
 the Great Men is at an end.' 
 
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