M'Clellan of M'Clellan

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M'Clellan of M Clellan M'Clellan of M'Clellan By HELEN P. REDDEN "CClttb Jllustrattons By the Author LONDON BLISS, SANDS AND FOSTER IS, CRAVEN STREET, STRAND, W.C. l89S CONTENTS Chapter pAOE I. The Moorlands . . ... 7 II. Malcolm . . . ... 13 III. M'Clellan Castle . . ... 23 IV. School Life . . ... 27 V. The Boating Excursion . . 35 VI. The Rev. Isaac Surliton . . . . 47 VII. A Sunday Afternoon's Encounter . 53 VIII. A Christmas Holiday . . . . 61 IX. Malcolm and Gretchen . . 73 X. Colonel Macdonald . . ... 81 XI. Gretchen's Story . . ... 92 XII. Gretchen Leaves the Old Home . . . 100 XIII. The Schools . . ... 109 XIV. Prize Day at the Manse . . . . 118 XV. Hugh Charlton . . ... 124 XVI. Captain Johnstone . . ... 133 XVII. Lady Mary . . . ... 141 XVIII. Mr. Marchmont's Speech is a Failure . .150 XIX.

Jeannie Campbell . . . . . 159 XX. The Nun's Voice . . ... 168 XXI. Malcolm Goes to Edinburgh. . . . 180 XXII. Colin Buchanan . . ... 189 XXIII. New Experiences in Gretchen's Life . . . 200 XXIV. A Surprise for Lord Kenmuir . . . 212 XXV. The Travelling Prize . . . . Contents. VI Chapter Page XXVI. Captain Johnstone and His Daughters . . 231 XXVII. Gretchen becomes Famous . . • 235 XXVIII. Interview between Lord Lissing and Bradley 244 XXIX. Buchanan's Suspicions Aroused . . 257 XXX. A Day's Shooting . . . . 265 XXXI. Gretchen Leaves Germany . . . 274 XXXII. The Secret Discovered . ... 283 XXXIII. The Conspiracy . . ... 291 XXXIV. The Cloud Lifted . . . . 295 XXXV. Malcolm and Little Zell. . . . 297 XXXVI. A Terrible Awakening for Lady Mary . . 308 XXXVII. A Deadly Struggle . ... 319 XXXVIII.

The Subterranean Passage . . . 332 XXXIX. Lascar True to His Trust . . . 340 XL. Suspense . . . ... 358 XLI. A Marriage Ceremony .. ... 367 XI.II. Kay Finds the Old Love Unchanged . . 375 XLIII. The Death of Buchanan . ... 380 XLIV. Conclusion . " . . . . 387 ILLUSTRATIONS Frontispiece — Malcolm "The Den" To face page 13 17 Colonel Macdonald Gretchen's Picture 86 » 236 Nellie and Little Zell . The Subterranean Passage ., 301

Chapter I. The Moorlands

THE wintry winds of a dark December are blowing cold and shrill over the moorlands, and over the bare clods which have frozen hard as iron in the keen clutches of the frost. There seems no boundary line to the grey stretch of cloud which floats leaden and dark above the bleak landscape, and there is nothing to divert the eye from the barrenness around, except a stunted tree or two, which stand out black and weird from the sombre background. They have grown crooked battling with the cold blasts which visit that un sheltered place, and look as if twisting their stiff necks to find a more genial spot elsewhere, than in the uninviting soil in which they have had the ill-luck to take root. Far away on the other side of the heath stands a low lone brick building, which takes the name of The Moorlands from its situation.

The brickwork is faced by cornices of thick, solid stone, and on one side the ivy clings in masses, other wise it is naked and bare enough. A white paling divides the building from the surrounding heath, which stretches away in all directions. Within is a trim pathway, on either side of which are beds where flowers flourish in the season. At the back of the house a pavement of flagstones leads to the close and outbuildings beyond, and as evening draws on there are sounds of lowing of cattle and clucking of poultry as they are driven home for the night. As you open the white paled gate, and pass up the path before mentioned, you come to the front door, half hidden beneath its heavy oaken porch, where on either side is the rough-hewn seat, putting one in mind of mellow summer evenings, when the work is done and the gudeman of the house sits down to meditate over his pipe and glass beneath its shade.

The front of the house is plentifully studded with narrow, octagonal-paned windows, which glitter out of their frames of shining ivy like so many bright eyes. There is no habitation within a mile of The Moorlands, and it stands alone, as if determined to remain unsociable, desolate, and sullen to the end of the chapter. Not far from the house a tall chimney towers aloft into the quiet sky, for the place had belonged to some mills once on a time, and by the stream, near at hand, a narrow stone foot path leads under the old-fashioned bridge to the brink; but the once busy wheel is silent, there is no babbling, rushing, water from under the uneven stone archway, no monotonous chatter which once sounded day in and day out — -nothing is left but a sheet of dark ice surmounted by a shivering array of brown sedges.

The mill is merely a receptacle for farm implements, or for anything else that needs a cover. The Moorlands itself was more picturesque to look at than pleasant to live in, and the doors and windows, with their shrunk timbers and loose hasps, rattled and shook and creaked and wailed on windy nights with dismal cadence. There were narrow passages running the whole length of the building, which might be termed up-hill and down dale, the boards were so uneven and shrunken with age. Though only consisting of two stories, with the exception of a small chamber in the roof, there was no lack of space ; there were no end of doors and crooked steps, which cropped up where you least expected to find them, and here and there in the wall, high above your head, a tiny casement looked down on you with a calm, subdued, amber shade, like the light from a church window.

The Moorlands. 9 The household was merry and light-hearted enough as far as the children were concerned; they did not mind the wild weather or moaning winds, as they crowded round the glowing hearth ; and further back still, before school, with its strict discipline and hard work, had become a part of the child-life, what running and laughing there used to be down the long passages ! and what stamping of small feet on the uncarpeted oaken boards! and young voices echoed shrill as they shouted to one another from the empty low ceiled rooms, which made the best of play-rooms for these noisy atoms of humanity. The master of The Moorlands was no longer prosperous as he had once been ; troubles had come thickly upon him and aged him before his time. Bad seasons and pecuniary losses had followed one upon another ; many of the old neighbours were dead, while others had gone away to start afresh in a new country, and novel ideas had taken the place of the old ways.

But Kay was not the man to murmur at his lot, though in his domestic life he was made to feel the hardening effects due to daily worry and anxiety. It was Mrs. Kay who ruled the house and held sway over the live stock within and without ; the master was only so in name. She was gaunt-looking enough now, though her fine, regular features showed that she must have had a fair share of beauty in her day. Trouble had made her very different from what she used to be, and all stood in awe of her severe voice and sharp temper ; but in reality it was often more her manner than any lack of kindly feeling. The Kays had once possessed a little lass of their own, who was the one sunbeam in the house, and it had never been bereft of happiness while she lived beneath its roof. But when the child was just blooming into womanhood a young artist came that way, lured, it might be, by the wildness and rugged beauty of the spot, and there he met his destiny in the modest, coy-looking little Annie Kay ; and the end of it was that she left the old home and went back with him to his native town in Germany.

But before many years had passed away the young wife was a widow, and the happy days she had known in her pretty cottage near the Schloss Elz were ended for her. Her husband had gone out in a sailing boat with some friends, on one of his expeditions in search of fresh subjects for his pencil, when the ill-fated boat was caught in a sudden squall; it capsized, and not one of the occupants ever reached the land. The young widow was never the same afterwards, and her friends urged her as a last resource to return to Scotland, and see what the pure breezes of her own mountain air would do for her. And so in the early freshness of one bright spring morning she started on her journey, accompanied by her three children — Fritz, Gretchen, and little Carl, trusting that she might but reach the dear old home to receive her parents' blessing ere she died.

But when the ship arrived at her destination there were only three sad, lonely, little orphans left to greet the eager, loving father of poor Annie Kay. Still he met his sorrow bravely. There was no complaint ; only the deepening furrows in his brow, and the many threads of silver in his hair, told more eloquently than words what the loss had been to him. With both grand-parents the children now were everything, and outwardly at least they filled the vacant place. Four miles away from The Moorlands was the town to which they trudged each day to school, taking their mid day meal with them, as it was too far to return home and get back again in time for afternoon lessons. At the time this narrative commences it was evening, and snowing fast. Mrs. Kay was busily arranging the table for the evening repast, staying every now and then to stir the smoking porridge cooking on the fire.

Presently there was a sudden clatter of shoes from without, and noisy voices ; now the door bursts open, and two fine hearty-looking boys enter. " There you go ! " said one, as he hastily unstrapped his load of books from his shoulder and flung them on the oaken dresser in the corner of the kitchen. "Gently, lad, gently," said the grandfather in his peculiarly quiet voice, " the mother is tired to-night." The Moorla7ids. 11 The gentle tone generally intercepted a storm when there was one brewing, as there frequently was when the boys came in with their noise and dirty shoes, which did not improve the whiteness of the stone floor that had been cleaned so care fully that afternoon. Soon, with a buoyant and lighter step, three little girls came in. Quickly divesting themselves of their hats and cloaks, they put them in the back kitchen for the white shroud of snow to drip from them at its leisure ; and then they gathered round the cheerful hearth, spreading their blue hands to the blaze.

The eldest of the three, with the pale, shining hair and delicate little face, is Gretchen Klein, Kay's second grandchild ; the other two are no relatives of his ; they are the children of Captain Johnstone, who had known Kay in his brighter days, and, valuing him for his worth and integrity of character, had left his two little girls under his care while away on his voyages, choosing rather a humble roof than a fashionable abode where they must be left to the mercy of strangers. Stella, the elder, is a fine stylish-looking girl of eleven years of age ; she is perfectly conscious of the good points with which capricious dame Nature has favoured her. She has bright auburn hair and hazel eyes, with a cheek as blooming as a rose ; and though the rest of her features are by no means perfect, tHe intelligence of her countenance makes up for any defects.

Stella is a favourite with the lads of the household, whom she is alternately coaxing, teasing, or answering back with some sharp, quick retort. Kathleen, or Kathy, as she is called, possesses a sweet face and winsome smile; she is a dark-tressed lass, and her skin is as soft and delicately fair as tinted ivory. Everybody loves Kathy; she is so generous and good-hearted, and she is the staunch friend of every living thing upon the farm. When tea is over Kay sits smoking on the settle in the chimney corner, and the ruddy" blaze lights up his grey hair and stout buckled shoes, bringing out in sharp relief every line of his bent figure. Opposite sits Mistress Kay, knitting away in the determined business-like fashion with which she sets about everything. Gretchen's younger brother, Carl, is stretched at full length on the hearth, his head lying in Kathy's lap.

Gretchen is quiet as usual, her thoughtful, dreamy eyes fixed on the fire. " Haven't you a tale for us ? " at length whispers Kathy. " Don't ask me to-night," says Gretchen, in the same tone, "the boys will hear; and I cannot before Grannie; we will go up into the attic some time, and then I '11 tell you as many as you like." Gretchen was a famous one for telling stories, but was far too shy to narrate before her grand-parents what was meant for her young auditors alone ; and even their love of a story was scarcely powerful enough to lure them away from the glowing fireside, for the secluded precincts of some bitterly cold upper chamber. During the evening the boys betook themselves to their lessons. With Carl, who was remarkably quick, the business was soon over; but Fritz, with his heavy brows puckered into a frown, and his fingers stuck through his hair, would usually remain until the old shining mahogany clock struck nine, when prayers were read ; and by half-past the whole family flocked off to their respective rooms, and soon every light was out, and silence and darkness reigned supreme over The Moorlands.

Chapter II. Malcolm

IT is morning at The Moorlands, and the narrow stream near at hand is rushing swiftly along beneath the thawing ice-blocks ; and as it travels farther and farther away into a wilder and lonelier spot, seeking the solitudes of wood and glen, it suddenly becomes a torrent; and far below the over hanging rocks the water is dashing with headlong haste, and the foam rises in a cloud of spray, and mingles with the thin blue mist which envelopes the craggy heights from base to summit. But the vapours are gradually succumbing to the influence of the rising sun, that is now shedding abroad his rays in a sky of amber and rosy light. The rocks beneath glisten in the spray of the waters, and cavernous rifts are hung with a silver rime. Myriad dewdrops sparkle on the grass and on the surrounding heather, and bright patches of verdant green betray the morasses, and hint of the treacherous waters which lie beneath their velvet surface.

In the far horizon is the pale green sea-line, only visible on clear, bright days ; and in the tiny chamber in the roof Gretchen will stand in her musing moments, and gaze with wistful eye towards that long low line, and every now and then fancy she can hear a murmur of the waves upon the beach. Presently, turning a sharp angle of the rocky boundary, a young man with a gun comes in sight ; a huge tawny-haired bloodhound runs leisurely beside him, lifting now and again his grave intelligent face to his master's as he strides along. At length the man halts a moment by the rough crag which towers up from the narrow footway, to watch the waters as they hurry and dash along far below him. He has a stalwart manly figure, which his highland dress sets off to the best advantage, and there is a bearing of hauteur in every line of the well-formed head, with its cluster of short, thick curls, and on the clear-cut classic features, the most striking of which are his dark blue eyes, that are well set beneath a broad horizontal brow.

Though inclining to be pale, his complexion is remarkably clear, which adds to the beauty of his countenance. But in the face there is a certain hardness of contour and sternness of expression, which take somewhat from an otherwise faultless physiognomy. Malcolm — he has no other name — is the adopted child of the tenants of The Moorlands, he knows no other parentage, and beyond he stands alone. On a wild stormy night some eighteen years before a young woman with a little child came craving admittance at Kay's door. Her helplessness and distress appealed at once to his tender heart, and he willingly took her in ; but no care or nursing availed to save the stricken wanderer, who gradually sank and died, leaving her boy on his hands. But whatever trouble Malcolm had been in his childish days, he had since repaid his benefactor a thousand-fold.

On him devolved the business of the farm and its many responsibilities. Kay depended entirely upon him, gladly leaving to his clear head and natural sagacity what was to Kay only a perplexity and a burden. Malcolm exercised, too, a peculiar influence over the poor of the district, who would do anything for him ; and Kay would sometimes remark with a smile that the lad was becoming quite a chief amongst them, for he always had his way, and no one thought of contradicting11 him. By those of his own age he was considered somewhat too proud and imperious ; but by the older members of the community he was greatly beloved, and nothing could give greater offence than a word against the "young maister," as he was affectionately designated. Though it is winter time, the household at The Moorlands Malcolm. 15 are up and stirring by half-past six o'clock, and a good hour's work is done before the family gather round the large oaken board for breakfast.

There is the bowl of smoking porridge, with its unvarying slice of brown bread, which Mrs. Kay doles out to each. All are hungry and healthy, and seem perfectly satisfied with their simple fare. About the middle of break fast the young sportsman comes in, followed closely by his dog, and his entrance is the signal for conversation, for the children are all fond of Malcolm, and eager to tell of their progress at school on the preceding day. Fritz, with his broad, honest German countenance, looks on and listens as they laugh and chat around him. He is rather a silent lad, and seldom joins in the conversation unless appealed to ; he stands well at school though ; for as far as hard plodding, earnest work goes few can surpass him. Carl, the younger brother, is directly his opposite — a bright, laughing boy, possessed of perfect Greek features, and a high brow covered with a thick fringe of light-brown hair.

Carl is Kathy's idol ; everyone can see that, as she glances at him with her shy, wistful eyes ; but Carl is a thorough boy, and the look is quite lost upon him ; he has just reached the age when girls are rather a bore than otherwise, and if he does show any preference it is for the fine intelligent-looking Stella, who generally manages to attract all the attention to herself, which is little enough at any time as far as the lads are concerned. Saturday was the only day in the week on which there were no lessons, and Mrs. Kay always expected Gretchen to spend her morning in household duties. After the mid-day meal was over, glasses and plates washed and put away, the furniture rubbed with an extra polish for the coming Sabbath, Gretchen was for the rest of the day at liberty to do what she liked, and away she would run to the quiet little chamber in the roof to get an hour's drawing before dusk.

There in the dim light of the little window she sits, her fair head bent diligently over the drawing-board. Her teacher has kindly given her some flowers from the hot-house, and amongst them is a spray of maidenhair fern, some purple heather, and long, graceful grasses. Gretchen has arranged them herself, and by the taste with which she has grouped and managed her study, she shows her appreciation of the work she has in hand. "I am afraid I shall never do it, Kathy," says Gretchen at last, with a sigh. Kathy, who is seated on the floor with a book, looks up enquiringly. "If I only had a better light," she continues, "perhaps I should be more successful. I will get up early on Monday morning and clean the window, it might make a little difference." Just as Gretchen had finished speaking there was a sound of footsteps, and then a vigorous rap at the door, which made both girls start to their feet ; for no one ever came to that room except themselves, and it was always regarded as their especial property.

Without waiting for a reply the door was opened, and Malcolm appeared on the threshold, bending his tall figure to prevent his head from coming in contact with the sloping roof, which in one part inclined almost to the floor. " What ! " he exclaimed, after taking a moment's survey of the room and its occupants, " you are never trying to draw in this dark hole. I gave you credit for being wiser, Gretchen ; you will be blind in a month ; my den would be preferable to this." Besides his other occupations, Malcolm was the carpenter of the household, and supplied everything that was necessary in that art ; and he possessed a work-room which was situated at the other end of the house. Presently he came forward to examine the painting. " I am afraid you are disappointed," said Gretchen at last, rather falteringly, as he stood for some minutes without speaking.

"On the contrary," he replied, "I am quite surprised, I had no idea you could do so well. How did you get the tint of the flowers so deep and yet so transparent ? One can see the dew on those ferns." Malcolm. 17 Gretchen's eyes sparkled, and the colour mounted to her cheek. " Now," he continued, taking up her board and paint-box, "you must both come with me to my 'den'; you can have the corner by the window all to yourselves and keep whatever you require there ; come when you like, and go when you like." So saying, and without waiting for the glad ex clamations which greeted this welcome invitation, he marched off, leaving the children to follow down the crooked and uneven steps as fast as they might. Malcolm seemed delighted now that he had gained his point, and had coaxed the shy bird from its hiding place.

He pulled away his workman's bench to make more room, and Gretchen seated herself by the small table in the window, and began to work again, though with a somewhat trembling hand. The young Scotsman stayed to look at the children for a moment, as if the picture pleased him ; and his face lit up with a peculiarly sweet smile, which was the more noticeable on account of the wonderful change of countenance it pro duced, and then he turned away and left them as suddenly as he had come. "Isn't he a splendid fellow?" said Kathy warmly. "And won't you be happy now, Gretchen ? Why," said the child, " you will have nothing left to wish for." " I must become more perfect in my drawing first," replied Gretchen, " before I can agree to that. I have made up my mind to be an artist, Kathy, as my father was.

Granny is always saying, ' Where there 's a will there 's a way,' and if I could only do well enough to sell some of my drawings, I might be able to pay for some lessons, perhaps." " What ! " said Kathy, " and do you mean to paint big pictures, such as I saw one day in Edinburgh?" " I don't know about big pictures ; my ambition is to be able to paint like some of those old Dutch masters. It must be so delightful to have such a knowledge of the art as to depict one's fancy at once, instead of having to rub out all day as I do." B " I think you do well enough now," replied Kathy ; but Gretchen only sighed; she could not expect the child to understand. On one side of the room were some old-fashioned book cases; and Kathy mounted on a chair and amused herself with looking over some of the volumes, seeking something to interest her, which did not appear very likely, as they were mostly essays and sermons by old divines, with a few Greek and Hebrew books covered with dust, mildewed and moth eaten from having remained untouched on those shelves for many a long year.

At length it grew too dusk to see any longer, and Gretchen regretfully packed up her drawing materials, putting them in a corner of the wide window-sill ; and then she and Kathy hurried downstairs to tea. The candle and cheerful firelight looked doubly bright, in contrast with the long afternoon they had spent in the cold. Presently Stella, Fritz, and Carl entered, bringing a chill current of air from without ; their faces ruddy and glowing with exercise, for they had spent their time in sliding and snowballing each other, while Gretchen and Kathy were scolded by the grandmother for remaining indoors when a walk would have done them good. " Mr. Buchanan will be up at the kirk the nicht," said Kay, " an' if the lassies want a walk they had better gang, he winna like it if there 's na' one to hear him, he thinks a sight o' the organ."

This was just what Gretchen was hoping for ; but she had not expected to get her way so easily, for Mrs. Kay, having no ear for music herself, spoke of it as all very well for idle people, who could afford to waste their time over that kind of thing, but not for such as they who had to work hard and were obliged to face the sober matter-of-fact side of life all their days, and Gretchen was fain to accept this latter part of her grandmother's reasoning as a sorrowful truth. But if she was dispirited for a time, nothing could uproot from her nature the love of the beautiful, which was as indispensable to her well-being as the air she breathed. Colin Buchanan was the nephew of Lord Lissing, the Malcolm. 19 owner of M'Clellan Castle and its estates. But he and his uncle had little in common, and they seldom met.

Colin was a man of musical tastes, and he took much interest in the vocal part of the service at the kirk on Sundays. He was continually deploring the absence of an instrument, and it was owing to the feeling he so frequently expressed on the subject, that Lady Mary Lissing was at length induced to present an organ to her nephew and the congregation, to the infinite delight of the former ; but to many of the latter it was a scandal; a bone of contention, a thing unheard of; and amongst the higher powers there had been continued threats as to its ejectment. But hitherto it seemed that Lady Mary's persuasions and influence had prevented any active measures from being taken, for up to the present time the organ still remained in its place. Lady Mary never did things by halves. The organ was a very handsome instrument, richly decorated, and its elaborately carved panels were of dark Spanish wood.

Colin would sit mooning over it for hours, experiencing the keenest pleasure as he drew out the deep chords, which spoke to his inmost soul with a kindred voice. At length Gretchen and Kathy were hurrying along the crisp snow to the little kirk, which was situated a good mile from The Moorlands ; and they were very glad when the light from one of the windows shone like a dim star across their path. They were just in time to hear the first faint strains of the organ, more a vibration than a sound, as they entered the kirk-yard, and made their way to the doors, one of which stood ajar. It was a small building, more quaint than pretty ; a musty air pervaded it, and the moth had been busy amongst the cushions of the pews and pulpit. The faded curtain which usually shrouded the organ was thrown back, and the lamp that had served Gretchen and Kathy for a beacon cast a dim ray over that particular spot, leaving the gloomy surroundings darker still from contrast.

A young man was seated before the instrument, seemingly lost in the piece he was playing, for he did not hear the light footsteps of the girls as they faintly echoed on the pave ment. He had no notes before him, and the melody which rever berated through the silence was an inspiration of the moment. It is seldom that the exterior pourtrays so much the character of the man as did his. The intellectual well-developed brow, with its sweep of dark hair, the large thoughtful grey eyes, the almost melancholy expression of countenance, as well as the attitude, bespoke a highly-strung and nervous temperament. Gretchen and Kathy were beside him before he became aware of their presence. He now rose and welcomed them in his usual grave, quiet way. " How good of you to turn out on such a night !" he said.