Page:Once a Week Dec 1860 to June 61.pdf/647

636 but ’twer evident that retribution had followed the dead mon, and the orphan’s tears had furrowed a track for sorrow up to his ain threshold. The Lady Janet’s gleaming hunted eyes wer about to close on the path once sae bright, and then sae dim, and I’m thinking, puir thing, that she might, and perhaps does now,” said Mrs. Bennet, in a voice that thrilled through me, “sigh for the rest which folks say she’s never found.

“Soon after this time, Sir Patrick maun e’en choose ane o’ the cauldest, bitterest days o’ winter, when storms o’ wind and snow wer raging fierce, to drag the Lady Janet frae the ingle-nuik where she aye sat noo, dreaming nane could say o’ what;—maun drag her to gang wi’ him to visit his ill-favoured sister, Mistress Joan.

“The Lady Janet, ne’er in a’ the days that passed sin’ Lord Archdale’s death, sae long as she lived, ne’er gainsayed her husband in ony thing, and some even went sae far as to say that a shadow o’ sorrowful tenderness for her wer sometimes seen athwart his savage face;—it wer but a passing gleam, called forth by some act of obedience, perchance, or unselfishness on her part, or maybe some service performed for him by the thin shadowy hands, which had never sought his in love for a’ they’d been mon and wife a year.

“Be this as it may, they started in the face o’ the beating hail and drifting snow, though warned by a’most a’ the men about that a fearful nicht wer comin’ on. There were twa roads ye maun ken to Lowereslie, where the Mistress Joan held her rigid sway. The langest road wer the onlie one as wer passable except in summer weather, and by this they started, arriving safe at the frowning Ha’ where Mistress Joan were closeted long, long wi’ her brother, leaving the Lady Janet alane, in the cauld room, wi’ as sma’ courtesie as could be observed, until the gloom o’ the short winter’s day closing in, warned Sir Patrick to hasten his departure; but the gloom o’ winter wer as sunshine compared wi’ the gloom upon his browe, as he persisted sternlie and obstinatelie, as wer his wont, in ganging hame by the nearer road, by which they’d have to cross the ferry.

“I’ve often heard,” said Mrs. Bennet, gazing steadfastly into the fire, “that when the shadow o’ death is closing round, the mightie One is permitted wi’ his huge wing to touch those he is about to grasp, so that unconsciouslie to themselves they are warned to make their peace wi’ a’ men before departing on their lonely road. The Lady Janet might ha’ felt the icie touch, or read her doom in Sir Patrick’s face, for as she turned to leave the inhospitable ha’s o’ Lowereslie she stopped, then hurried back to where Mistress Joan stood wi’ the sinister smile upon her face, watching their departure; and wi’ her foot upon the threshold, held out her little trembling hand, and the hunted eyes looked up beseechinglie at her sister-in-law as she said quicklie, ‘Joan, let us part friends this winter’s night; for a’ that I ha’ wronged ye in, in thought or word have mercy, and forgive me now.’

“Joan looked at her as though she wer demented, and said sneeringlie, ‘The Lady Janet Johnstoun sue for pardon! What new game is this? Forgive! and wherefore now, may I make bold to ask?’

“Lady Janet clasped her hands together. ‘I canna say, Joan, but in the name o’ Him that rules seedtime and harvest, frost and snow, part friends wi’ me the nicht.’

“Sir Patrick had also turned back, and hearing the last words, seized her roughlie by the arm, and dragged her away, the fiendish laugh o’ Mistress Joan wringing in their ears. She said na mair, and nothing in reply to his taunts at her strange humilitie—her silence seeming as though it provoked him more na words would hae done—until when they came to the ferry the mon Sandie ventured to say that ’twer as much as a mon’s life wer worth to ferry him o’er the nicht, nearlie dark as it wer, wi’ nae but the fitful light o’ the moon, which the clouds were so continuallie crossing, that ’twer but little better than total darkness. When Sandie ventured to say that ’twer unsafe, Sir Patrick made as though he wad ha’ struck at him, and shouted as if beside his sel’, ‘Art afraid, hound, to ferry the Lady Janet Johnstoun, when she stan’s waiting?’ The coward made use o’ her name to attain his miserable object. As soon as he said the word, Sandie sprang up, and unmoored the boat, and lifting the Lady Janet in, wi’ mair care na ceremonie, said, ‘Nae mon e’er ca’d Sandie Clinton coward before, and I hope ye may live to repent it, Sir Patrick!’

“The boat sped bravelie on her way, until they wer nigh upon where the current ran, when it became evident that ’twer more than ony twa men could manage to steer across it. And Sir Patrick’s face grew white and pinched as the thought obtruded itself upon his mind, that the statelie ha’ they left i’ the morn might never echo to his tread again. The wind howled like the howl o’ spirits, but still Lady Janet sat silent and calm wi’ her dark eyes fixed upon the sky, and never seemed to have a fear that she wer sailing down that stream into eternitie, until she observed Sandie begin to take off his upper claithes, and pointing to a rope which lay i’ the stern, he said, ‘I am the stronger mon o’ the two, bind the Lady Janet fast to me, and wi’ the help o’ Him that rules, she shall be safe in her ain ha’ to nicht. There’s nae wife or child to make their mane for me gin I’m missing i’ the morn; and, as ye ken, I’m no’ the first o’ my name as has been gey to sink or swim wi’ the Johnstouns, sae lose na time, Sir Patrick.’ But the Lady Janet’s face for the onlie time flushed a bright red, as she exclaimed hastily, ‘Too late, too late, Sandie; the time’s come, ye can na detain me—the time’s come!’ And as she uttered the words, the boat capsized, and they wer a’ struggling again the torrent for their lives. The Lady Janet must ha’ gone down speedielie, but Sir Patrick and Sandie fought bravelie, and Sandie perilled his life to save the Lady Janet, but when she disappeared altogether, he, like one o’ the clan as he wer, after a sore ficht wi’ angry elements, wer flung upon the bank wi’ the senseless form o’ Sir Patrick in his grasp.

“Their shout for help as the boat gaed down had been heard at a fisherman’s cottage ower the cliff, and they wer baith taken up to it, and wi’ much care brought to life; Sir Patrick’s first