My advice to you, sir, is, tae gang at yince, and tae speak him fair." Slowly did Mr. Le Moyne gather courage to meet his foe; and his faltering and irresolute footsteps, as he proceeded to the library, showed that even then his will was in a state of oscillation. Betty gave vent to a sigh of relief when she heard the door close upon him, which ended in her expressing her conviction that there was "aye a something or ither," and wondering when it would be "itherwiz !" Miss Le Moyne sat in sorrowful silence, unmindful even of the new attraction that had only a few moments before been the life of her soul, and which was now vainly endeavouring to get a huge old sofa to obey her orders to kneel down and let her get on its back, under the playful delusion that Britain was Hindostan, and the sofa an elephant! Betty busied herself, or appeared to busy herself, in removing the breakfast-things, in unusually small instalments, the full powers of her mind being in reality concentrated on little Virtue, whose every step seemed to her to be fraught with a thousand perilous possibilities, to the entire ignoring of anything in the way of a watchful Providence. yer daidly, or maybe the verdigreeze 'll pizh'n, consequence), right down the lawn itself, still ye! tumbling o'er and o'er, but on a more velvetty and less sanguinary principle, right down to the bridge that overhung the Eerie Burn. Had the butterfly gone down into the depths below, as sure as Virtue was her father's daughter she would have flung herself after it, regardless of the Eerie consequences. But fortunately for herself, her aunt, uncle, and biographer, the butterfly diverged just as it touched the bridge, took a downward path that led to the safe and sunny verdure of the Kelpie's Kirk, and disappeared. Whereupon Virtue, being now a little tired, sat herself down on the bridge, and was very soon interested in the conversation of the Eerie Burn. In a short time, however, she began to think that it was saying the same thing over and over again rather too often; and, by way of eliciting a little variety, insisted upon knowing where it came from and where it was going to. But as the Eerie Burn still continued the same trickling and incoherent story, without the slightest recognition of her questions, Virtue, accustomed to implicit obedience, became irritable, and gave it imperative orders to stop altogether. As in the case of Canute, however, the uniformity of the laws of Nature remained undisturbed, and the stream continued its old mystic murmurings. Virtue's blood was up, and she resolved to whip it into submission. Xerxes was of age, and should have known how the Hellespont would feel under a flogging. Virtue was a child, and thought this the right thing to do. So, by way of doing it deliberately and effectively, she rose and took the side path down to where the quiet level of the Kelpie's Kirk presented a more convenient place of punishment. Arrived there, however, the multitude of daisies, butter-cups, and all kinds of wild flowers diverted her from her penal purpose, and ere long she had forgot her own displeasure in the new occupation of gathering these, throwing them on the stream, and watching them as they sailed away to radiant lands of childish fancy, each charged with a message to her angel-parents, whom she now pictured to herself as being clad in white robes, and having wings, and crowns of gold. Then, as usual, she began to utter her thoughts aloud, informed the Eerie Burn that she was a great queen, and that though she was so very great she would come now and again to see it and give it flowers. She came from a great way off, she said, and had seen far bigger waters, and had had black people to attend her; and, although she whipped them sometimes, she loved them very much, and she had come all the way in a big ship, and she was going to have a ship of her own some day, and she would sail away and away till she would come to a beautiful shore with beautiful stones and shells on it, and angels walking on the water, for they had wings like birds, and couldn't sink; and she would tell the angels who she was, and they would fly away and tell her mother that little Virtue had come at last, and her mother would come and In a few minutes the library bell rang, and Miss Le Moyne was summoned to join the conference. Hereupon, Betty's curiosity being thoroughly roused, and little Virtue being ap parently safe on the elephant's back, it naturally followed that in a very short time the latitude and longitude of one of Betty Morgan's ears so nearly coincided with the geographical position of the keyhole of the library door that an indiscriminating intruder might have imagined her capable of eaves-dropping. After all it is best to be straightforward; so the simple English of it is that Betty did put her ear to the keyhole in order to catch as much as possible of a private conversation. It likewise naturally followed that little Virtue, finding herself for the first time in her life alone and unwatched, and having an innate goût d'aventures, all of a sudden discovered that the elephant was an unsagacious and undemonstrative animal, and that there was a butterfly hovering outside the glass-door that led from the breakfast room to the front lawn, which was much more likely to be communicative and obedient. So she condescendingly invited it to wait till she should come and catch it, and after several laborious but successful efforts, during which she became aware, from sundry brass knobs sadly interfering with her descent, that the elephant was a delusion and a snare, she reached the ground, and was sadly mortified to find that the butterfly was farther off than ever. What so suggestive of pursuit as flight? What so stimulative to desire as indifference? Little Virtue was a soldier's daughter, and she gave chase. Down the steps that led to the lawn (two horses shot under her ere she reached it-two tumbles, I mean, and two bleeding knees in And, as might naturally be expected, down she fell into the Eerie Burn, which at that particular spot was as many feet deep as I shall choose to make it, and there we leave her till we see what has been going on in the mean time in the library of Hope Hall. When Miss Le Moyne entered it, she saw at once from her brother's appearance that he was crushed beneath the weight of evil tidings. His hand was still on the bell-rope, as if he had rung it by a sudden impulse, and not quite sure whether he had done right or wrong, lacked decision enough even to resume his former position. Peter Morgan, a wiry man in grey, rose from his chair, made a motion with his head and body peculiar to the would-be patrician novus homo, sat down again, and began to arrange a quantity of papers with which the table was strewed. To the question of why she was summoned, Mr. Le Moyne, after stammering out a few incoherent syllables, gave it up, and pointed significantly to Morgan. "To what do we owe this early visit, Peter?" asked Miss Le Moyne. "If that was all ye owed," answered he, "the visit wouldna have been paid, mum; but there's other things ye owe, forbye, and that's what for I'm here." "Whatever we owe, Peter," said Miss Le Moyne, with as much indignation as was in her, "I am sure we are very far from being your debtors in anything." "Yes, Isabel dear," interposed her brother, fearing that his sister might irritate their visitor, "I am deep in his debt-deep, deep!" "In his debt! James, James, how came you to hide this from me?" "I was ignorant of it myself, dear, till this moment. Mr. Morgan has .... the Griersons have failed .... and .... for Heaven's sake tell her what you have done !" "Well, mum, I have bought up the debts, and the money must be paid to me.' "The Griersons failed! I feared it; but how, James, have you been kept ignorant of this till now!" "He-he-ask him that too." "All your letters pass through the lodge, mum," answered he, with the coolness of a practised villain. "I suppose that's as much as ye need to be told." Miss Le Moyne clasped her poor little hands and sank into a chair, stricken and bewildered at the gulf of villany that opened up behind her, and the gulf of despair that yawned darkly before. "But we have no money, Mr. Morgan! How can you ask us to pay this?" she at length exclaimed. "No; but you have furniter." "But if we sold our furniture, Mr. Morgan, how could we live in this great house, all dreary and bare? You will surely not insist upon this-surely not, Mr. Morgan !" "Ye can go elsewhere, mum. take a big place to hold ye both." It wouldna "I see it all now! You wish the Hall. God help us! James, what have you said to this?" "Oh, ye see it all, do ye? Well, it is the Hall I want. An what for should I not have the Hall? The Hall was not intended to be a poor's-house, and that's what it'll be as long as ye're in it. Now, look ye, Miss Le Moyne. They say I'm a hard man. I'd like to know if this is hard: You just let the Duke know that ye find the house ower big for ye, or yerselves ower small for it, and that ye mean for to seek some other place, and I'll give ye a written paper resigning all claim on ye for the money. Could anything be fairer-or kinder, mum? But, mum, on the other hand, if ye persist in not finding the house ower big for ye, thenthen mum, as sure as my name's Peter Morgan, ye'll find it before long rayther ower hot for ye!" "Are you not comfortable in the lodge, Mr. Morgan? I am sure you are getting on well in the world, Why not allow us to end our days here in peace ?" Comfortable, mum! I'll never be comfort able as long as I see them that dosn't work and that can't work, livin' in halls, and callin' themfor them that works and deserves it, that's my selves gentlemen and leddies. creed, mum !" The like of that's "What have you said to all this James ?" asked Miss Le Moyne of the bruised reed that was shaking as in a winter storm. "What shall I say, dear?" was all the answer. "A clean wipe out of the whole debt, mind," cried Morgan, before she had time to reply," or a clean wipe out of every stick of furniter. It'll be better, surely, to go away peaceably, and take your goods and chatiles along with you to some decent wee place, than to live within bare walls with the debt over your heads. Now, if ye please, say the word. I'm not exactly disposed for to wait." "I am sure she would join with us in begging you not to carry out the extreme rigour of your intentions. Suppose we call her." An acute ear might at this moment have heard a shuffling footstep retreating in stealthy haste in the direction of the breakfast room. "I tell you it's no use," almost shouted Morgan. 'My mind's made up. I'm willin' to pay a rent for this house that you live in as a pauper, and therefore I've more right to it than you. Forbye which, I'm willin' to forgive ye a very large debt, on the simple condition that ye leave the place. It's kindness, sir, that is. But if ye refuse, sir,--ye know me, I should think." "Will you not give us time to consider this matter, Mr. Morgan ? It is very sudden, really!" "Time-mum! What can ye want with time? The matter's as plain now as ever it'll be. If I have to leave this without yer 'yes,' I'll take 'no' for granted, and proceed to busi-, and when he heard the marvellous words, he ness." "What is to be done, James ?" sobbed Miss Le Moyne. "What is to be done, Isabel?" if it must be said, I'd rather hear you say it than myself." "It's from you I want it, Mr. Le Moyne," said Morgan, fiercely." I'm not in the habit of lettin' women interfere in my affairs. If ye'll please to say the word, I'll be obliged to ye!" "Well, then"Well, then?" Mr. Le Moyne shut his eyes, that he might not see the portraits of his ancestors. He was just about to take the leap in the dark, and his lips were apart to say the fatal word, when lo! a scream and a rush, and the door flew open, and in dashed Betty, carrying the dripping burden of little Virtue's apparently lifeless body, which she deposited at once on the hearth-rug, with loud lamentation and wailing. "She's drooned! she's drooned! the bonnie, bonnie bairn," cried the wretched woman, in the unconscious rhythm of grief. "Cauld her ee is closed in daith! Guid forgie me for leavin' her her lane! Safe I thocht her on her aylephint's back-the wee wee lambie!" And a great deal more of the same sort; but as the reader already knows that Virtue will open her eyes sooner or later, we may as well say at once that, before Betty had finished her Jeremiad, and before it occurred to either of the despairsmitten beings, that hung shrieking over the stiffened form, to try any of the appliances usually resorted to in such cases, there was a slight motion of the hand, a gurgling sort of cough, a deep sigh, and then Virtue looked up, to the tune of a loud "Lord be thankit" from old Betty. Then did Betty rush for hot water; then did the Le Moynes commence the work of stripping and chafing; while Peter Morgan, in no way put about by the casualty, employed himself quietly and significantly in turning at the old Le Moyne portraits to the wall. The signs of reanimation on the part of Virtue multiplied rapidly, seeing which Morgan again renewed his demands. "I'm going, Mr. Le Moyne, as soon as ye say the word. It's as plain as need be. The very child might see the necessity of yer sayin' 'yes.' What do ye say to it, Misey?" asked he, with sneering jocularity. In the fear of not being believed, I hesitate to write down what she did say to it. She answered in Latin. It was all the Latin she knew; and she did not know that it was Latin; and yet she did lift up her little head, and did open her little mouth, and did say—“ Pro foco et penatibus.": Balaam seems to have sat still when his ass spoke; but he was a prophet, and accustomed to wonders. James Le Moyne was a mere man, "For our fireside and our household gods." sprang from his seat as if roused by a voice from heaven-and such he deemed it. There, sir, you have your answer-' Pro foco et penatibus! Pro foco et penatibus!'" And for the first time in his life James Le Moyne, kindling up as with divine inspiration, stood erect and bold, with the blood of centuries of nobility flushing his cheek, and the fire of a whole race of brave souls flashing from his eyes. "Go," he said, pointing grandly towards the door : "do your worst! Heaven itself speaks to me through this child. It will not suffer the strong to trample on the weak?' Then kneeling down beside the little one, who was now on her aunt's knee, wrapped grotesquely in her aunt's shawl, "Blessed child," said he, "who told you to say this?" "" Papa and mamma." "I knew it was from Heaven!" he exclaimed, sir? You are answered. Go." again springing to his feet. "Do you hear, "Answered! What the (Pluto's successor) do you mean by something or other potatibus ? What I want is Yes' or 'No.'" Here Betty appeared with a tub of hot water; and while she stands, for a minute or two, bewildered at seeing her master standing in an attitude and wearing a look such as she had not seen human being wear since her last master died, we may put in a word or two of necessary explanation. When Betty heard, through the keyhole, that she was likely to be called in to the conference, she had scuffled off to the breakfast-room, so as not to appear too suspiciously near at hand when summoned. Greatly alarmed at missing the child, her first thought was that it had strayed into the fire and been burnt to ashes (for on this particular morning Betty had put large fires in all the rooms of the house, on the pretext that "the puir wee Ingine lassie wasna' acquaint wi' cauld cleemits"); but seeing that the glass-door was wider open than when she had left the room, her next idea was to run down to the bridge. From the bridge she at once spied the object of her search, in a position that realized her worst fears. Down she rushed to the Kelpies' Kirk, and as the Eerie Burn was only about a foot in depth at the spot where Virtue had fallen, the rescue was easy. Little Virtue's stupor arose more from fright than drowning; and though her first remark was in that her soul had been in Hades while her body a dead language, the reader must not imagine lay in the Eerie Burn. the Le Moyne family. Virtue's mother, by way "Pro foco et penatibus," was the motto of fond wives (bless them!) love to prepare for of one of those pleasant baby-surprises which their husbands, had early taught her to pronounce the mystic words; and great and joyful had been the surprise of the brave fellow, on returning from a long and bloody campaign, at hearing his child (whom he had left barely able to say "papa" and "mamma") pronounce, with purity and distinctness, the words that of all others were written deepest in his heart. Virtue gradually came to know that "Pro foco et penatibus" were words potent to command all sorts of treats, and to ward off all threatened punishments. She came to know that the words were always welcome, and never irrelevant; so that she had got at last to look on them as a key to all sorts of problematical situations, and as such had used them in the present instance. Not the less did they serve their purpose on this account. Not the less was James Le Moyne moved by them, as he had never been moved before, to fight for his hearth and his household gods; for to him it seemed that the voice of all his race had summoned him to the sense of birth and name. One more look at them ere the curtain falls for the month. Peter Morgan, with face of Judas, has gathered up his papers and is preparing to depart. Betty stands at the door, tub in hand, a misty vision of bewilderment and steam. Mr. Le Moyne, in a blaze of glory, points grandly towards the door. Miss Le Moyne, sitting by the fire, turns her face from the audience that they may not see her admiration of her brother; but we who are behind the scenes can see that it has caught the contagion of triumph. And on her knee, wrapped up in a shawl, sits, very blue and altogether very comical to behold, the little object that has saved Hope Hall from passing into the hands of the alien. WORDS. BY ADA TREVANION. Not a beam the heaven ranges; As I sit, dim papers piling, By the fire-light's fitful glow, Mem'ry breathes, for my beguiling, Words I heard long, long ago. Simple words, which bring back hours Charm'd words, which recal the fancies Were more prized by me than gold. |