Kilgarvie

Front matter

KILGARVIE GIORNA AND GIBBIE GOW KILGARVIE BY EOBINA F. HAEDY. AUTHOR OF 'JOCK HALLIDAY, ' C.LENAIRLIE," ETC. 'The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me— her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.' — Worelsworth OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRTEK EDINBURGH AND U OLD BAILEY LONDON PRINTED BY MORRISON AND GIBB, EDINBURGH, PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE, FOR OLIPHANT, ANDERSON, & F E R R I E R, EDINBURGH AND LONDON. CONTENTS 0 CHAP. PAOE I. A HOME-COMING, ...... 7 II. A BACKWARD GLANCE, . . . . .24 III. THOKNDYKES, . . . . . .39 IV. 'THE BIG HOOSE,' . . . . . .58 v. 'mks. major,' . . . . . .71 vi. gibbie's 'gliff,' . . . . .87 VII. 'A little rift within the lute,' . . 102 Vin. visitors, ....... 122 IX. A skeleton in the cupboard, .... 138 X. A NEW LADY KILGARVIE, . . . . .150 XI.

THE FORTUNE-TELLER, ..... 165 XII. ON THE WAR-PATH, ...... 177 XIII. A VISION OF THE PAST, ..... 189 XIV. THE BLUE ROOM, ...... 196 XV. IN THE DARK VALLEY, ..... VI Contents CHAP. PAGE XVI. A NEW PERPLEXITY, ... . 217 XVII. GIORNA'S NEXT MOVE, ..... 225 XVIII. A MIDNIGHT ALARM ...... 234 XIX. TO THE GREENWOOD, . ... 247 XX. A MYSTERIOUS RIDE, ..... 259 XXI. ACROSS THE CHANNEL, ..... 275 XXII. IN 'THE LAND 0' CAKES, ..... 286 XXIII. A PAGE OF DOMESTIC HISTORY, .... 294 XXIV. IN TIME OF PEACE, ...... 306 XXV. GOOD-BYE, ....... KILGARVIE.

Chapter I

A HOME-COMING. ' By Oehtertyre grows the aik, On Yarrow banks the birken shaw ; But Phemie was a bonnier lass Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw.' — Burns. T was very early in the century. But the September moonlight was quite as brilliant as it has ever been since, and nature in general looked very much the same by it as it does to-day, so far as our little ' kingdom by the sea ' is concerned, A well-laden carrier's cart was making the best of its way along the coast road between Kinghorn and Crail on that particular night. Only a carrier's cart truly, and yet it bore a much more distinguished burden than was customary in the every-day, even tenor of its life. Kilgarvie. Gibbie Gow, the crusty old veteran marching at his horse's head with steady pace, and casting a quaint, eldritch shadow before him on the moonlit road, was able to reflect comfortably on the fact that it was not only the usual butcher meat, groceries, blue flannel, and spinning flax he carried, but a young wedded couple, with all the guidwife's bridal gear and solid plenishing to boot ; and, as the bridegroom happened to be no other than the parish minister of Kilgarvie, some extra honorarium was doubtless in store for him.

Gibbie was naturally in good spirits. He cracked his whip with an unusual flourish, from time to time throwing a canty word to old ' Gillieflower,' the com panion of his bi-weekly journeys to and fro along the coast. To-night Gillieflower and her master had met the couple at Buckhaven, where they had been landed by a smack from Leith, and now the ten miles of land journey had been nearly accomplished ; Kilgarvie itself was nearly in sight, and the minister thereof was already pointing out to his bride the clump of fir-trees that sheltered her future home from sharp sea-breezes. It was perhaps as well that Gibbie Gow was occupied with his own pleasing reflections on this occasion, for Dr. Grierson, at all times dreamy and abstracted, had neither eyes nor ears for him to-night. He had tramped conscientiously enough most of the long miles beside Gibbie, to be sure, but the conversation may be briefly summed up in this fashion. ' All well with ye, Gibbie ? and were the Kilgarra folks well when ye were last there ? ' ' Oo ay, sir ! naething wrang in parteeklar, at least no' that I heard ony word o', sir.' And now that the goal was in sight, Gibbie generously advised the minister to ride for the rest of the way. ' Gilliefloor's no' that far through but she may gie a cast noo, sir, an' I'se warrant there'll be baith horse meat an' man's meat at Kilgarra Manse this nicht when the new leddy's corned hame ' ' The bridegroom was nothing loath.

Best he needed not, and rather scorned at all times, but a hunger of the heart was on him now. He longed for some looks and words of love that could only come from one quarter. ' You are wearied, sweetheart ? ' he asked tenderly, as he stretched his lengthy form luxuriously in the straw, and laid his head in the lap of the little creature so wrapped up in warm plaids, and so fixed in among boxes, baskets, and bundles, that it would have been difficult for any but such loving eyes as his to distinguish her. Malcolm Grierson's voice was deep and low ; not very rich or musical, yet full of suppressed power and pathos. His phraseology was that of a time even earlier than his Kilgarvie. 10 own — his terms of endearment especially seeming to be borrowed from Milton and Herrick rather than from any romances of the day. ' Wearied ?

No, Malcolm dear, I am not wearied,' said a sweet little voice issuing from the shepherd's plaid just above him; 'but I have been feeling anxious. You know, dear, it is so dark now — and I can't ' — ' Not dark, my own beloved ! ' was the murmured interruption. ' Look at the moonlight flooding all things in earth and sea and heaven itself with wondrous light. How fair that darkness must be that shows us a world transfigured — glorified ! And you are not afraid, Hearts ease, with me to protect you ? ' ' I didn't mean afraid, Malcolm.' There was a little tremor in the voice that half belied the assertion. ' But you know, dear, one can't see little things so well in this light, and — and I wondered if ' — Again Malcolm interrupted, thinking he understood so well all the quivering thoughts that stirred and throbbed in the clear head resting on his shoulder. ' No, we cannot see, perhaps, the faults and flaws in the picture — the broken hedge, the crumbling wall.

But see what we gain instead ! These glorious orbs above us, gliding in silent majesty and loveliness alon« their heavenly path ! Yes, your words remind me of a fine thought I read somewhere lately, that " darkness showeth fairer worlds than ever daylight doth." I must find the passage for you when we ' — ' But, Malcolm ! ' burst in the poor little wife, now almost in tears, for the pressing anxiety he had failed to grasp was goading her still, — ' Malcolm dear ! I can't see the hairy-covered trunk ! It is that I am most anxious about. You know it was Uncle Archibald's present, and it holds the six silver teaspoons, and the napery, and oh, so many things ! Do you think it can have fallen off ? ' That one short step between sublime and ridiculous, often spoken of, was surely taken in verity just then.

It rather staggered Dr. Grierson for a moment. But only for a moment. ' No, no ; it can't have fallen off ! ' he said reassuringly, while he actively bestirred himself to look after the missing article. ' That would be a physical impossibility from what I remember of the building-in process we went through at the Ferry. Hi, Gibbie ! Stop one moment and let me have your lantern. These mundane lights are not, after all, to be too lightly esteemed. Why, here it is all safe and snug in its place, my sweet wife. Thou art like Martha of old, methinks, dearest, " troubled about many things." Is it not so ? ' His tone was like that of a mother soothing a sick or fretful child, for, after a moment of surprise and disappointment, he had taken himself severely to task for Kilgarvie. 12 having been but thoughtless as to the natural anxieties and troubles of so young a girl taken away from home and friends to enter on a new path of life.

He blamed himself for expecting her to care for these poetic images and fancies so dear to his own mind, and determined in future to find and follow her own train of feeling and thought, at least until time should tune their minds to something more harmonious. He was rewarded for his magnanimity. Mrs. Grierson's mind being now relieved from that pressing anxiety regarding the 'hairy-covered trunk,' she was now more at liberty to attend to her husband's discourse, and even to brighten the way with some playful sallies of her own. She put her little white hands softly in his broad palms, and, laying the dainty head to rest once more on his shoulder, watched laughingly with him the quaint shadows of Gibbie and Gdlieflower as they bobbed up and down against the mooulit wall or along the sandy links.

Gibbie was a curious enough figure even in daylight, with his long blue ' rig and - fur ' stockings, knee - breeches fastened with wisps of straw, and his fur cap, the lappets of which, firmly tied down over his ears, almost precluded conversation. But in the moonlight he might have been taken for one of the goblins of the Harz Mountains, so little did he resemble any creature of earthly mould. So the little bride laughed merrily at this phantom like figure, forgetting her previous troubles, while her husband willingly unbent from higher and more congenial topics in order to maintain her cheerfulness. How fair the young face looked as it nestled closer to his breast ! It was of slender fashion — almost childlike in its simple loveliness. A faint wild-rose hue tinted the thin cheeks, and over a brow of snowy whiteness a profusion of short dark curls fell in pretty disorder.

But the dark, clear hazel eyes lighting up the face were its chief beauty, and as Malcolm Grierson looked lovingly into their liquid depths, what unspoken poetry — - what unwritten thought did he not read therein ? It is said that the gazer's eye sees only what it brings to the fair landscape or to the artist's canvas. If that be so, then Malcolm read truly, for he read out of his own full treasury. ' We have lost the sea-view now, sweetheart,' he said ; ' but it is not far distant — only hidden by yon rising ground.' ' I don't like the sea, Malcolm ; it is so cold and cruel-looking. I am very glad we are not going to live quite close to it.' Poor man ! that little word ' we ' made his heart so glad ! — he had to kiss the clustering curls again to speak his gratitude. ' Do you know, Malcolm, I felt as if we were in a prison all the time Kilgarvie. 14 we were jolting along, with that tiresome sea hemming us in the whole way.' 'A prison ?' he repeated. ' You are far more imaginative than you pretend to be, my little wife !

But do you know what I should call a prison that kept us both within its grasp — so near as we are now ? I should call it a paradise ! ' If he expected the delicate compliment to be returned, he was mistaken. But, while Mrs. Grierson shrugged her shoulders, she also nestled her little head more lovingly on his shoulder, and he was satisfied. He sat silent now, gazing backward on the glimmering shield of waters once more in view, for the sea was to him an early and long loved friend. He could then clearly descry Saughar Point striking boldly out into the Firth, and the broken fragment of the Lady's Tower still guarding a more distant promontory, beyond which the fishing village of St. Monance lay sleeping in the moonlight. ' Malcolm dear ! ' Once more it was his wife's silvery treble that roused him from his dreams, and once more it sounded timid and perplexed.

He was all attention in a moment. ' I have been wondering, Malcolm — do you think, dear ? — can my pink taffetas skirt have cot crushed ? It wasn't quite on the top of the box, you know, dear, for my wedding-dress had to go on the very top, of course. And yet, if I must wear my pink taffetas the first Sunday to go to the kirk, it were a sad pity to have it crushed.' This was a difficulty which the minister of Kilgarvie felt himself sadly incompetent to deal with. How much rather would he have faced some grave theological question or abstruse metaphysical proposition ! Still, strong in his love and patience, he applied his mind to the subject in hand. ' I should not suppose,' he said hesitatingly, after a critical survey of the wooden chest wherein these treasures were enshrined, ' that any lasting detriment could be done by a few hours even of such compression.

But, my own wife, are you not afraid of appearing too gay in our quiet little kirk ? Bethink you that as minister's wife a somewhat more sober style of adorning may be more exemplary, even more fitting. But I speak as one of the unlearned in these matters.' Something very like tears gathered in the beautiful eyes at these words, but the speaker did not notice this. He was absorbed in some doubtful cogitation of his own. ' But, Malcolm, all the kirk folk will be dressed surely, as they are at home ? ' ' Oh, well, the young village maidens may be fond of a gay ribbon, I daresay, as well as the lasses of Liddes dale • but I fear ' — Kilgarvie. 16 But the Kilgarvie Castle ladies, Malcolm ! ' The Castle ladies ! ' he re-echoed. ' Oh, they — the few ladies there are — are — always in black, I think.' ' Always in black ?

Always in mourning ? Now, Malcolm dear, confess the truth ! Did you ever really notice what they had on ? ' It was a merry little laugh that accompanied this question, and the minister gladly gave up the argument. He would simply shut his eyes to any little pomps and vanities like the pink taffetas, so long as they kept tears from those sweet eyes shining on him now. Let Kil garvie criticize as it would ! His heart was steeled against such arrows now ! ' To say truth, my pretty little confessor,' he said gaily, ' I am not certain that on any one occasion I have taken particular account of the apparel of Lady Lindores and her daughters. And henceforth I shall let that part of my duty, if such it be, devolve upon your abler powers. But you will find little indeed of the gay and frivolous in Kilgarvie Castle ! ' As he said these words, Malcolm Grierson sighed deeply — an involuntary sigh, quickly caught, and unnoted by any one.

There was no time now for further conversation. Gibbie's wheels were already crunching on the rou"h "ravel of a little avenue, and an open doorway showed the li"*hts in a simple whitewashed dwelling, while two figures hovered about as if on the outlook for arrivals. It was the Manse of Kilgarvie at last. 'Welcome! thrice welcome, my own love, to our home ! ' So saying, Malcolm Grierson lifted his bride tenderly from the high elevation of Gibbie's cart, and then ' over the doorstep,' in accordance with the ancient Scottish rule prescribed for such occasions. At the same moment the substantial form of Mrs. Baigrie, the housekeeper, was un ceremoniously ' shunted ' aside by the young girl who had assisted her in keeping watch that night, and a ' farle ' or cake of shortbread was hastily broken by the latter over the fair head of the blushing bride. ' Hoots, Teenie wuniman ! that's just bairns' play, and wasterifeness into the bargain ! ' grumbled the older woman ; but Teenie, a blithe young lassie of sixteen or so, clapped her hands at the success of her plan, which had indeed been kept a profound secret from her august aunt and superior. ' It wad set ye better to be helpin' Gibbie wi' a' thae kists,' continued the housekeeper in a grumbling tone. ' I dinna see mysel' hoo they're a' to win into the hoose.' But the bride, laughing and blushing as the fragments of cake fell about her shoulders, said pleasantly, — ■ ' Thank you — that is so kind !

And is this Teenie ? I B Kilgarvie. 18 have heard of her, you see, and am so glad she is here. And are you very well yourself, Barbara ? ' she added in a deferential tone, holding out her hand to Mrs. Baigrie, which that potentate was pleased to accept somewhat graciously. The minister had quickly said his few words of greeting, and was now busily engaged with the 'hairy-covered trunk ' and other precious possessions his young wife had brought with her in the way of ' providing.' ' I'm weel aneuch,' responded Mrs. Baigrie when she had led her new mistress into the parlour, which was duly and decorously appointed, with a snowy tablecloth on the little round centre table and the best blue china set thereon, ready for supper, — ' weel aneuch but for a kind o' gapin' an' gauntin' that comes owre me whiles.' (This was emphasized by a tremendous yawn.) ' But I think it's just wi' a' this steer an' confusion that's gane on this whiley back.

Sirs me ! I mind when I was mairret mysel' there was jist a quate tea-drinkin' an' ' — ' Barbara ! will you hold the light here a minute ? ' It was her master who spoke, and Mrs. Baigrie lost no time in responding to the call. ' That will do. Thank you. Now, will you get some supper for Gibbie, and help him to get his horse and cart put up ? Teenie here can attend to Mrs. Grierson in the meantime.' Sulkily enough, but without any open manifestation of displeasure, Mrs. Baigrie took herself off to the lower duty assigned to her, while Teenie, delighted with her task, stole shyly into the parlour, and began to unfasten the wraps still encumbering the fair young mistress, who stood in front of the bright fire, getting back to warmth and comfort again after her long journey. Then Teenie knelt on the rug, chafing the chilled feet that were so neat and dainty, and looking up with shy, swift glances of admiration at the fair vision just above her — that sweet face, shadowed by clustering brown curls and lit by the loveliest eyes she had ever seen, sparkling just then with all the love and gladness of her home-coming.

Teenie felt sure that she had never seen, would never see, a fairer vision than this, and with all the warm enthusiasm of her nature she loved, or rather worshipped, her young mistress. And poor little Mrs. Grierson on her part felt that here, at least, was some common every-day intercourse for her, such as she had indeed been used to in the old home. Not that she undervalued the more exalted companionship awaiting her in married life — far from it. She had, if possible, too high an idea of that. Malcolm — her Malcolm — seemed to her like some grand poem personified, some of those passages of Milton which he was so fond of quoting, and which could never grow tame or lifeless, but which, Heaven help her ! she Kilgarvie. 20 was often sorely at a loss quite to comprehend ! And so, not unnaturally, she would crave for some common food, some lighter talk, in the every-days that were to come.

Teenie was but a servant, to be sure, and she would like, chiefly for Malcolm's sake, to remember her own higher standing ; yet Teenie was very like some of the Liddesdale cousins and companions after all. But the minister and Mrs. Baigrie had at last finished all the active work they had taken in hand. Gibbie and Gillieflower were both suppered and quartered for the night. They would be off before daylight to begin the journey from Kinghorn to Crail again. All the luggage was at rest for that night at least, and so Malcolm Grierson was at liberty to wait upon his fair lady himself now, which he did right gladly. After supper, he took her into the kitchen for a brief ceremonious interview with the housekeeper in her own peculiar province. It was rather an ordeal. Mrs. Grierson felt quite nervous as she stood on the threshold of that highly polished and thoroughly scrubbed apartment.

The cold blue flagstones paving it had someway a look of belonging exclusively to Mrs. Baigrie, and of being in sympathy only with her commands. The little strip of carpet in front of the fire was more inviting, and on that the young mistress stood timidly while she made her little homely greeting. ' What a nice kitchen ! you keep it so beautifully clean ; and you keep your health well here, I hope ? Teenie must be a great comfort to you, I am sure. She is your niece, is she not ? Not very like you, though, I think. You must show me all about the house to morrow. I will feel so ignorant at first, but you will tell me what Malcolm — I mean your master likes. That is about dishes, of course. I used to cook things often at home, you know, for father and the rest, but I don't know yet what he likes best.

Oh, but you will know all that ! Yes, Malcolm dear, I am coming. Good night, Barbara ; good-night, Teenie.' To the various items of this pleasant little jumble Mrs. Baigrie had merely assented by a grunt, as she stood, arms akimbo, leaning her back against the dresser fronting the speaker. Teenie occupied a place in the background, as became her youth and inferior station. When the mistress had gone, however, they gathered round the fire, wliich was already made up for the night. ' Eh, auntie, isna she bonnie ? — rael bonnie ? Saw ye ever the like o' her afore ? ' asked Teenie eagerly. Mrs. Baigrie vouchsafed no immediate reply. She was apparently absorbed in thought, and surveyed silently the expiring embers and huge 'gathering' peat laid over them. Kilgarvie. 22 At last she opened her lips. ' Beauty's but skin deep.

It's the worm and the dust that maun inherit it. Seek after wisdom, for that's far abune rubies.' ' Hoots, auntie, maybe she's gotten wisdom too ; an' if she hasna, she's but young yet.' ' I dinna think she's vera wise. Sirs me ! but a' men are fules ae time o' their life or ither, an' the minister's come to his time, I'm thinkin'.' ' Dinna be sae hard on the cratur, auntie,' entreated Teenie, with tears shining in her own honest eyes. ' Luik what bonnie e'en she has ! She maybe doesna need to be wise like you or ither folk, when she's that winsome ! ' ' I set little store by folk's luiks. But awa' wi' ye to yer bed, ye haverel, an' keep what good luiks ye may hae o' yer ain. Ye're no' that troubled wi' them, I trow.' ' Eh, auntie, a wheen o' the Kilgarra folk say I'm rael like you, for a' the young leddy didna think so ! ' There was a spice of mischief now in Teenie's blue eyes, as she looked saucily up to the domestic tyrant.

An expressive ' grurnph ' signified Mrs. Baigrie's dis approval of this theory. * I was aye a wiselike wumman to luik at, Teenie, an' that's mair than ye're like to be. I'm thinkin' ye favour your mother's side o' the hoose, an' they were a' tawpies. But I daursay ye may dae weel aneuch for a bower maiden to this braw leddy the minister has brought hame. I wuss he had left her to pu' gowans on the braes o' Liddesdale, an' gane wast the road for a wife— a better ane he micht hae won.' ' Wast the road ? ' repeated Teenie. ' Is't Thornydykes ye mean, auntie ? ' ' Whaur else ? An' wha wad hae made a better minister's wife than Marget Oliphant ? ' With these emphatic words Mrs. Baigrie blew out the candle, and abruptly closed the midnight conference.