No More Learning

Under his treatment nature is subjective, and plays the part of
fate. Natural scenery is as the orchestra to a Wagnerian opera. The
shifting of the clouds, the voice of the sea, the scent of the woods,
are made the most important factors in the formation of character.
He whose home is in mountain fastnesses knows the solemn glory
of sunrise and sunset, and has for his heritage the high brave temper
of the warrior, with the melancholy of the poet. The dweller on
tawny sands, where the waves beat lazily on summer afternoons and
where wild winds howl in storm, is of like necessity capricious and
melancholy. The minor key, in which Poe thought all true poetry is
written, is struck in these his earlier novels. Let the day be ever
so beautiful, the air ever so clear, the shadows give back a sensitive,
luminous darkness that reveals tragedies within itself.
Not that the sentient background, as he has painted it, is to be
confounded with the "sympathy of nature with character" of the
older school, in which hysterical emotion is accentuated by wild wind
storms, and the happiness of lovers by a sunshiny day. But char-
acter, as depicted by him in these early novels, is so far subordinate
to nature that nature assumes moral responsibility. When Macleod
of Dare commits murder and then suicide, we accept it as the result
of climatic influences; and the tranquil-conscienced Hamish, the
would-be homicide, but obeys the call of the winds. Especially in
the delightful romances of Skye, Mr. Black reproduces the actual
speech and manners of the people.
And as romance of motive clothes barren rocks in rich hues and
waste bogland in golden gorse, it does like loving service for homely
characters. The dialect these people talk, without editorial comment,
delights and amuses from its strangeness, and also from the convic-
tion that it is as real as the landscape. They tell wonderful tales of
moor and fen as they tramp the woods or sail on moonlit waters,
and sitting by a peat fire of a stormy night, discuss, between deep
pulls of Scotch whisky, the Erastianism that vitiates modern theol-
ogy.
We must look in the pages of Scott for a more charming
picture of the relation of clansman to chief.
IV-125


## p. 1986 (#176) ###########################################

1986
WILLIAM BLACK
But Mr. Black is his own most formidable rival. He who painted
the sympathetic landscapes of northern Scotland has taught the
reader the subtle distinction between these delicate scenes and those
in which nature's moods are obtrusively chronicled. There are nov-
els by Mr. Black in reading which we exclaim, with the exhausted
young lady at the end of her week's sight-seeing, "What! another
sunset! »
And he set himself a difficult task when he attempted to
draw another character so human and so lovable as the Princess
of Thule, although the reader were ungracious indeed did he not
welcome the beautiful young lady with the kind heart and the
proud, hurt smile, whom he became familiar with through frequent
encounters in the author's other novels. And if Earlscope, who
has a dim sort of kinship with the more vigorous hero of 'Jane
Eyre,' has been succeeded by well-bred young gentlemen who never
smoke in the presence of their female relatives, though they are
master hands at sailing a boat and knocking down obtrusive foreign-
ers, Mr. Black has not since A Daughter of Heth' done so dramatic
a piece of writing as the story of the Earl's death and Coquette's
flight. The "Daughter of Heth," with her friendly simplicity and
innocent wiles, and Madcap Violet, the laughter-loving, deserve per-
haps a kinder fate than a broken heart and an early grave.
But what the novelist Gogol said of himself and his audience fifty
years ago is as true as ever: "Thankless is the task of whoever
ventures to show what passes every moment before his eyes. " When
he is heart-breaking, and therefore exceptional, Mr. Black is most
interesting. A sad ending is not necessarily depressing to the reader.
"There is something," says La Rochefoucauld, "in the misfortunes of
our best friends that doth not displease us. "
In Mr. Black's later novels, the burden of tradition has been too
heavy for him, and he has ended them all happily, as if they were
fairy tales. He chose a more artistic as well as a more faithful part
when they were in keeping with life.


## p. 1987 (#177) ###########################################

WILLIAM BLACK
1987
THE END OF MACLEOD OF DARE
"D
UNCAN," said Hamish in a low whisper,- for Macleod had
gone below, and they thought he might be asleep in the
small hushed state-room-"this is a strange-looking day,
is it not? And I am afraid of it in this open bay, with an
anchorage no better than a sheet of paper for an anchorage.
you see now how strange-looking it is? "
Do
Duncan Cameron also spoke in his native tongue, and he
said:
"That is true, Hamish. And it was a day like this there was
when the Solan was sunk at her moorings in Loch Hourn. Do
you remember, Hamish ? And it would be better for us now if
we were in Loch Tua, or Loch-na-Keal, or in the dock that was
built for the steamer at Tiree. I do not like the look of this
day. »
Yet to an ordinary observer it would have seemed that the
chief characteristic of this pale, still day was extreme and set-
tled calm. There was not a breath of wind to ruffle the sur-
face of the sea; but there was a slight glassy swell, and that
only served to show curious opalescent tints under the suffused
light of the sun. There were no clouds; there was only a thin
veil of faint and sultry mist all across the sky: the sun was
invisible, but there was a glare of yellow at one point of the
heavens. A dead calm; but heavy, oppressed, sultry. There
was something in the atmosphere that seemed to weigh on the
chest.
"There was a dream I had this morning," continued Hamish,
in the same low tones. "It was about my little granddaughter
Christina. You know my little Christina, Duncan. And she
said to me, 'What have you done with Sir Keith Macleod?
Why have you not brought him back? He was under your care,
grandfather. ' I did not like that dream. "
"Oh, you are becoming as bad as Sir Keith Macleod himself! "
said the other. "He does not sleep. He talks to himself. You
will become like that if you pay attention to foolish dreams,
Hamish. "
Hamish's quick temper leaped up.
"What do you mean, Duncan Cameron, by saying 'as bad as
Sir Keith Macleod'? You-you come from Ross: perhaps they


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1988
WILLIAM BLACK
have not good masters there. I tell you there is not any man
in Ross, or in Sutherland either, is as good a master and as
brave a lad as Sir Keith Macleod - not any one, Duncan Cam-
eron! "
"I did not mean anything like that, Hamish," said the other,
humbly. "But there was a breeze this morning. We could have
got over to Loch Tua. Why did we stay here, where there is
no shelter and no anchorage? Do you know what is likely to
come after a day like this? "
"It is your business to be a sailor on board this yacht; it is
not your business to say where she will go," said Hamish.
But all the same the old man was becoming more and more
alarmed at the ugly aspect of this dead calm. The very birds,
instead of stalking among the still pools, or lying buoyant on the
smooth waters, were excitedly calling, and whirring from one
point to another.
"If the equinoctials were to begin now," said Duncan Cam-
eron, "this is a fine place to meet the equinoctials! An open
bay, without shelter; and a ground that is no ground for an
anchorage. It is not two anchors or twenty anchors would hold
in such a ground. "
Macleod appeared: the men were suddenly silent. Without a
word to either of them—and that was not his wont- he passed
to the stern of the yacht. Hamish knew from his manner that
he would not be spoken to. He did not follow him, even with
all this vague dread on his mind.
The day wore on to the afternoon. Macleod, who had been
pacing up and down the deck, suddenly called Hamish. Hamish
came aft at once.
"Hamish," said he, with a strange sort of laugh, "do you
remember this morning, before the light came? Do you re-
member that I asked you about a brass-band that I heard
playing? »
Hamish looked at him, and said with an earnest anxiety:-
"O Sir Keith, you will pay no heed to that!
It is very
common; I have heard them say it is very common. Why, to
hear a brass-band, to be sure! There is nothing more common
than that. And you will not think you are unwell merely be-
cause you think you can hear a brass-band playing! "
"I want you to tell me, Hamish," said he, in the same jesting
way, "whether my eyes have followed the example of my ears,
-


## p. 1989 (#179) ###########################################

WILLIAM BLACK
1989
and are playing tricks. Do you think they are bloodshot, with
my lying on deck in the cold? Hamish, what do you see all
around? "
The old man looked at the sky, and the shore, and the sea.
It was a marvelous thing. The world was all enshrouded in a
salmon-colored mist: there was no line of horizon visible between
the sea and the sky.
"It is red, Sir Keith," said Hamish.
And what do you
"Ah! Am I in my senses this time?
think of a red day, Hamish? That is not a usual thing. "
"Oh, Sir Keith, it will be a wild night this night! And we
cannot stay here, with this bad anchorage! "
"And where would you go, Hamish - in a dead calm ? "
Macleod asked, still with a smile on the wan face.
"Where would I go? " said the old man, excitedly. "I — I
will take care of the yacht. But you, Sir Keith; oh! you- you
will go ashore now. Do you know, sir, the sheiling that the
shepherd had ? It is a poor place-oh yes; but Duncan Cam-
eron and I will take some things ashore. And do you not think
we can look after the yacht? She has met the equinoctials
before, if it is the equinoctials that are beginning. She has
met them before; and cannot she meet them now?
Sir Keith, you will go ashore! "
But you,
Macleod burst out laughing, in an odd sort of fashion.
"Do you think I am good at running away when there is any
kind of danger, Hamish? Have you got into the English way?
Would you call me a coward too? Nonsense, nonsense, nonsense,
Hamish! I-why, I am going to drink a glass of the coal-black
wine, and have done with it. I will drink it to the health of
my sweetheart, Hamish! "
•
"Sir Keith," said the old man, beginning to tremble, though
he but half understood the meaning of the scornful mirth, “I
have had charge of you since you were a young lad. "
"Very well! »
"And Lady Macleod will ask of me, 'Such and such a thing
happened: what did you do for my son? ' Then I will say,
'Your ladyship, we were afraid of the equinoctials; and we got
Sir Keith to go ashore; and the next day we went ashore for
him; and now we have brought him back to Castle Dare! '»
"Hamish, Hamish, you are laughing at me! Or you want to
call me a coward? Don't you know I should be afraid of the


## p. 1990 (#180) ###########################################

WILLIAM BLACK
1990
Don't you know that
ghost of the shepherd who killed himself?
the English people call me a coward? »
"May their souls dwell in the downmost hall of perdition! "
said Hamish, with his cheeks becoming a gray white; "and every
woman that ever came of the accursed race! "
He looked at the old man for a second, and he gripped his
hand.
"Do not say that, Hamish-that is folly. But you have been
my friend.
My mother will not forget you-it is not the way
of a Macleod to forget- whatever happens to me. "
"Sir Keith! " Hamish cried, "I do not know what you mean!
But you will go ashore before the night? "
"Go ashore? " Macleod answered, with a return to this wild
bantering tone, "when I am going to see my sweetheart? Oh
no! Tell Christina, now! Tell Christina to ask the young Eng-
lish lady to come into the saloon, for I have something to say to
her. Be quick, Hamish! "
Hamish went away; and before long he returned with the
answer that the young English lady was in the saloon. And
now he was no longer haggard and piteous, but joyful, and
there was a strange light in his eyes.
"Sweetheart," said he, "are you waiting for me at last? I
have brought you a long way. Shall we drink a glass now at
the end of the voyage? "
no
"Do you wish to insult me? " said she; but there was
anger in her voice: there was more of fear in her eyes as she
regarded him.
"You have no other message for me than the one you gave
me last night, Gerty? " said he, almost cheerfully. "It is all over,
then? You would go away from me forever? But we will drink
a glass before we go! "
He sprang forward, and caught both her hands in his with the
grip of a vise.
"Do you know what you have done, Gerty? " said he, in a low
voice. "Oh, you have soft, smooth, English ways; and you are
like a rose-leaf; and you are like a queen, whom all people are
glad to serve. But do you know that you have killed a man's
life? And there is no penalty for that in the South, perhaps;
but you are no longer in the South.
And if you have this very
night to drink a glass with me, you will not refuse it?
a glass of the coal-black wine! "
It is only


## p. 1991 (#181) ###########################################

WILLIAM BLACK
1991
She struggled back from him, for there was a look in his face
that frightened her. But she had a wonderful self-command.
"Is that the message I was to hear? " said she, coldly.
"Why, sweetheart, are you not glad? Is not that the only
gladness left for you and for me, that we should drink one glass
together, and clasp hands, and say good-by? What else is there
left? What else could come to you and to me? And it may not
be this night, or to-morrow night; but one night I think it will
come; and then, sweetheart, we will have one more glass together,
before the end. "
He went on deck. He called Hamish.
"Hamish," said he, in a grave, matter-of-fact way, "I don't
like the look of this evening. Did you say the sheiling was still
on the island? "
"Oh yes, Sir Keith," said Hamish, with great joy; for he
thought his advice was going to be taken, after all.
"Well, now, you know the gales, when they begin, sometimes
last for two or three or four days; and I will ask you to see
that Christina takes a good store of things to the sheiling before
the darkness comes on. Take plenty of things now, Hamish, and
put them in the sheiling, for I am afraid this is going to be a
wild night. "
Now indeed all the red light had gone away; and as the sun
went down there was nothing but a spectral whiteness over the
sea and the sky; and the atmosphere was so close and sultry
that it seemed to suffocate one. Moreover, there was a dead
calm; if they had wanted to get away from this exposed place,
how could they? They could not get into the gig and pull this
great yacht over to Loch Tua.
It was with a light heart that Hamish set about this thing;
and Christina forthwith filled a hamper with tinned meats, and
bread, and whisky, and what not. And fuel was taken ashore,
too; and candles, and a store of matches. If the gales were
coming on, as appeared likely from this ominous-looking evening,
who could tell how many days and nights the young master-
and the English lady, too, if he desired her company-might not
have to stay ashore, while the men took the chance of the sea
with this yacht, or perhaps seized the occasion of some lull to
make for some place of shelter? There was Loch Tua, and
there was the bay at Bunessan, and there was the little channel
called Polterriv, behind the rocks opposite Iona. Any shelter at


## p. 1992 (#182) ###########################################

1992
WILLIAM BLACK
all was better than this exposed place, with the treacherous
anchorage.
Hamish and Duncan Cameron returned to the yacht.
"Will you go ashore now, Sir Keith? " the old man said.
"Oh no; I am not going ashore yet. It is not yet time to
run away, Hamish.
"
He spoke in a friendly and pleasant fashion, though Hamish,
in his increasing alarm, thought it no proper time for jesting.
They hauled the gig up to the davits, however, and again the
yacht lay in dead silence in this little bay.
The evening grew to dusk; the only change visible in the
spectral world of pale yellow-white mist was the appearance in
the sky of a number of small, detached bulbous-looking clouds of
a dusky blue-gray. They had not drifted hither, for there was
no wind. They had only appeared. They were absolutely mo-
tionless. But the heat and the suffocation in this atmosphere
became almost insupportable. The men, with bare heads, and
jerseys unbuttoned at the neck, were continually going to the
cask of fresh water beside the windlass. Nor was there any
change when the night came on.
hotter than the evening had been.
might come of this ominous calm.
Hamish came aft.
"I beg your pardon, Sir Keith," said he, "but I am thinking
we will have an anchor-watch to-night. "
"You will have no anchor-watch to-night," Macleod answered
slowly, from out of the darkness. "I will be all the anchor-
watch you will need, Hamish, until the morning. "
"You, sir! " Hamish cried. "I have been waiting to take you
ashore; and surely it is ashore that you are going! "
Just as he had spoken, there was a sound that all the world
seemed to stand still to hear. It was a low, murmuring sound
of thunder; but it was so remote as almost to be inaudible. The
next moment an awful thing occurred. The two men standing
face to face in the dark suddenly found themselves in a blaze
of blinding steel-blue light, and at the very same instant the
thunder-roar crackled and shook all around them like the firing
of a thousand cannon. How the wild echoes went booming over
If anything, the night was
They waited in silence what
the sea!
Then they were in the black night again. There was a period
of awed silence.


## p. 1993 (#183) ###########################################

WILLIAM BLACK
1993
"Hamish," Macleod said, quickly, "do as I tell you now!
Lower the gig; take the men with you, and Christina, and go
ashore and remain in the sheiling till the morning. "
"O Sir Keith,
"O Sir Keith, would you have
"I will not! " Hamish cried.
me do that? ”
Macleod had anticipated his refusal. Instantly he went for-
ward and called up Christina. He ordered Duncan Cameron and
John Cameron to lower away the gig. He got them all in but
Hamish.
"Hamish," said he, "you are a smaller man than I. Is it on
such a night that you would have me quarrel with you?
I throw you into the boat? "
Must
The old man clasped his trembling hands together as if in
prayer; and he said, with an agonized and broken voice:
"O Sir Keith, you are my master, and there is nothing I
will not do for you; but only this one night you will let me
remain with the yacht? I will give you the rest of my life;
but only this one night-"
"Into the gig with you! " Macleod cried, angrily. "Why, man,
don't you think I can keep anchor-watch? " But then he added
very gently, "Hamish, shake hands with me now.
You were my
friend, and you must get ashore before the sea rises. "
"I will stay in the dingy, then? " the old man entreated.
"You will go ashore, Hamish; and this very instant, too.
the gale begins, how will you get ashore ? Good-by, Hamish-
good-night! »
Another white sheet of flame quivered all around them, just
as this black figure was descending into the gig; and then the
fierce hell of sounds broke loose once more. Sea and sky to-
gether seemed to shudder at the wild uproar, and far away the
sounds went thundering through the hollow night. How could
one hear if there was any sobbing in that departing boat, or
any last cry of farewell? It was Ulva calling now, and Fladda
answering from over the black water; and the Dutchman is
surely awake at last!
――――――――――
-
If
There came a stirring of wind from the east, and the sea
began to moan. Surely the poor fugitives must have reached
the shore now. And then there was a strange noise in the dis-
tance: in the awful silence between the peals of thunder it would
be heard; it came nearer and nearer a low murmuring noise,
but full of a secret life and thrill-it came along like the tread


## p. 1994 (#184) ###########################################

1994
WILLIAM BLACK
of a thousand armies and then the gale struck its first blow.
The yacht reeled under the stroke, but her bows staggered up
again like a dog that has been felled, and after one or two
convulsive plunges she clung hard at the strained cables. And
now the gale was growing in fury, and the sea rising. Blind-
ing showers of rain swept over, hissing and roaring; the white
tongues of flame were shooting this way and that across the
startled heavens; and there was a more awful thunder than even
the falling of the Atlantic surge booming into the great sea-
caves. In the abysmal darkness the spectral arms of the ocean
rose white in their angry clamor; and then another blue gleam
would lay bare the great heaving and wreathing bosom of the
deep. What devil's dance is this? Surely it cannot be Ulva-
Ulva the green-shored — Ulva that the sailors, in their love of
her, call softly Ool-a-va-that is laughing aloud with wild laugh-
ter on this awful night? And Colonsay, and Lunga, and Fladda
-they were beautiful and quiet in the still summer-time; but
now they have gone mad, and they are flinging back the plun-
ging sea in white masses of foam, and they are shrieking in their
fierce joy of the strife. And Staffa - Staffa is far away and
alone; she is trembling to her core: how long will the shudder-
ing caves withstand the mighty hammer of the Atlantic surge?
And then again the sudden wild gleam startles the night, and
one sees, with an appalling vividness, the driven white waves
and the black islands; and then again a thousand echoes go
booming along the iron-bound coast. What can be heard in the
roar of the hurricane, and the hissing of rain, and the thunder-
ing whirl of the waves on the rocks? Surely not the one glad
last cry: SWEETHEART! YOUR HEALTH! YOUR HEALTH IN THE COAL-
BLACK WINE!
-
The poor fugitives crouching in among the rocks-is it the
blinding rain or the driven white surf that is in their eyes?
But they have sailors' eyes; they can see through the awful
storm; and their gaze is fixed on one small green point far out
there in the blackness- the starboard light of the doomed ship.
It wavers like a will-o'-the-wisp, but it does not recede; the old
Umpire still clings bravely to her chain cables.
And amidst all the din of the storm they hear the voice of
Hamish lifted aloud in lamentation:


## p. 1995 (#185) ###########################################

WILLIAM BLACK
1995
«< Oh, the brave lad! the brave lad! And who is to save my
young master now? and who will carry this tale back to Castle
Dare? They will say to me, 'Hamish, you had charge of the
young lad; you put the first gun in his hand; you had charge of
him; he had the love of a son for you: what is it you have
done with him this night? ' He is my Absalom; he is my brave
young lad: oh, do you think that I will let him drown and do
nothing to try to save him? Do you think that? Duncan Cam-
eron, are you a man? Will you get into the gig with me and
pull out to the Umpire? "
"By God," said Duncan Cameron, solemnly, "I will do that!
I have no wife; I do not care. I will go into the gig with you,
Hamish; but we will never reach the yacht—this night or any
night that is to come. "
Then the old woman Christina shrieked aloud, and caught her
husband by the arm.
"Hamish! Hamish! Are you going to drown yourself before
my eyes? »
He shook her hand away from him.
<< My young master ordered me ashore: I have come ashore.
But I myself, I order myself back again. Duncan Cameron,
they will never say that we stood by and saw Macleod of Dare
go down to his grave! "
They emerged from the shelter of this great rock; the hurri-
cane was so fierce that they had to cling to one bowlder after
another to save themselves from being whirled into the sea.
But were these two men by themselves? Not likely! It was a
party of five men that now clambered along the slippery rocks
to the shingle up which they had hauled the gig, and one wild
lightning-flash saw them with their hands on the gunwale, ready
to drag her down to the water. There was a surf raging there
that would have swamped twenty gigs: these five men were
going of their own free will and choice to certain death
much had they loved the young master.
SO
But a piercing cry from Christina arrested them. They looked
out to sea. What was this sudden and awful thing? Instead of
the starboard green light, behold! the port red light- and that
moving! Oh, see! how it recedes, wavering, flickering through
the whirling vapor of the storm! And there again is the green
light! Is it a witch's dance, or are they strange death-fires hover-
ing over the dark ocean-grave? But Hamish knows too well
-


## p. 1996 (#186) ###########################################

1996
WILLIAM BLACK
what it means; and with a wild cry of horror and despair, the
old man sinks on his knees and clasps his hands, and stretches
them out to the terrible sea.
"O, Macleod, Macleod! are you going away from me forever?
and we will go up the hills together and on the lochs together
no more! Oh, the brave lad that he was!
and the good master! And who was not proud of him—my
handsome lad—and he the last of the Macleods of Dare? "
no more- no more—
-
Arise, Hamish, and have the gig hauled up into shelter; for
will you not want it when the gale abates, and the seas are
smooth, and you have to go away to Dare, you and your com-
rades, with silent tongues and sombre eyes? Why this wild
lamentation in the darkness of the night? The stricken heart
that you loved so well has found peace at last; the coal-black
wine has been drunk: there is an end! And you, you poor,
cowering fugitives, who only see each other's terrified faces
when the wan gleam of the lightning blazes through the sky,
perhaps it is well that you should weep and wail for the young
master; but that is soon over, and the day will break. And this
is what I am thinking of now: when the light comes and the
seas are smooth, then which of you-oh, which of you all will
tell this tale to the two women at Castle Dare?
So fair shines the mor
orning sun on the white sands of Iona!
The three-days' gale is over. Behold how Ulva-Ulva the green-
shored the Ool-a-va that the sailors love-is laughing out again.
to the clear skies! And the great skarts on the shores of Eris-
geir are spreading abroad their dusky wings to get them dried.
in the sun; and the seals are basking on the rocks in Loch-na-
Keal; and in Loch Scridain the white gulls sit buoyant on the
blue sea.
There go the Gometra men in their brown-sailed
boat to look after the lobster traps at Staffa, and very soon you
will see the steamer come round the far Cailleach Point; over at
Erraidh they are signaling to the men at Dubh-Artach, and they
are glad to have a message from them after the heavy gale.
The new, bright day has begun; the world has awakened again
to the joyous sunlight; there is a chattering of the sea-birds all
along the shores. It is a bright, eager, glad day for all the
world. But there is silence in Castle Dare!


## p. 1997 (#187) ###########################################

WILLIAM BLACK
1997
SHEILA IN LONDON
From A Princess of Thule
SHE
HE asked if they were lords who owned those beautiful houses
built up on the hill, and half-smothered among lilacs and
ash-trees and rowan-trees and ivy.
"My darling," Lavender had said to her, "if your papa were
to come and live here, he could buy half a dozen of these cot-
tages, gardens and all. They are mostly the property of well-to-
do shopkeepers. If this little place takes your fancy, what will
you say when you go South-when you see Wimbledon and
Richmond and Kew, with their grand old commons and trees?
Why, you could hide Oban in a corner of Richmond Park! "
"And my papa has seen all these places?
«Yes. Don't you think it strange he should have seen them
all, and known he could live in any of them, and then gone
away back to Borva?
>>>
>>
"But what would the poor people have done if he had never
gone back? »
"Oh, some one else would have taken his place. "
"And then, if he were living here, or in London, he might
have got tired, and he might have wished to go back to the
Lewis and see all the people he knew; and then he would come
among them like a stranger, and have no house to go to. "
-
Then Lavender said, quite gently:-
"Do you think, Sheila, you will ever tire of living in the
South? "
The girl looked up quickly, and said with a sort of surprised
questioning in her eyes:-
"No, not with you. But then we shall often go to the
Lewis ? "
"Oh, yes," her husband said, "as often as we can con-
veniently. But it will take some time at first, you know, before
you get to know all my friends, who are to be your friends, and
before you get properly fitted with your social circle. That will
take you a long time, Sheila, and you may have many annoy-
ances or embarrassments to encounter; but you won't be very
much afraid, my girl? "
Sheila merely looked up to him; there was no fear in the
frank, brave eyes.


## p. 1998 (#188) ###########################################

1998
WILLIAM BLACK
The first large town she saw struck a cold chill to her heart.
On a wet and dismal afternoon they sailed into Greenock. A
heavy smoke hung about the black building-yards and the dirty
quays; the narrow and squalid streets were filled with mud, and
only the poorer sections of the population waded through the
mire or hung disconsolately about the corners of the thorough-
fares. A gloomier picture could not well be conceived; and
Sheila, chilled with the long and wet sail and bewildered by the
noise and bustle of the harbor, was driven to the hotel with a
sore heart and a downcast face.
"This is not like London, Frank? " she said, pretty nearly
ready to cry with disappointment.
"This? No. Well, it is like a part of London, certainly, but
not the part you will live in. "
"But how can we live in the one place without passing the
other and being made miserable by it? There was no part of
Oban like this. "
<< Why, you will live miles away from the docks and quays of
London. You might live for a lifetime in London without ever
knowing it had a harbor. Don't you be afraid, Sheila. You will
live in a district where there are far finer houses than any you
saw in Oban, and far finer trees; and within a few minutes'
walk you will find great gardens and parks, with lakes in them.
and wild fowls, and you will be able to teach the boys about
how to set the helm and the sails when they are launching their
small boats. "
"I should like that," said Sheila, her face brightening.
<< Perhaps you would like a boat yourself? "
"Yes," she said, frankly. "If there were not many people
there, we might go out sometimes in the evening-"
Her husband laughed and took her hand: "You don't under-
stand, Sheila. The boats the boys have are little things a foot
or two long-like the one in your papa's bedroom in Borva.
But many of the boys would be greatly obliged to you if you
would teach them how to manage the sails properly, for some-
times dreadful shipwrecks occur. "
"You must bring them to our house. I am very fond of
little boys, when they begin to forget to be shy, and let you
become acquainted with them. "
"Well," said Lavender, "I don't know many of the boys who
sail boats in the Serpentine: you will have to make their acquaint-


## p. 1999 (#189) ###########################################

WILLIAM BLACK
1999
ance yourself.
But I know one boy whom I must bring to the
house. He is a German-Jew boy, who is going to be another
Mendelssohn, his friends say. He is a pretty boy, with ruddy-
brown hair, big black eyes, and a fine forehead; and he really
sings and plays delightfully. But you know, Sheila, you must
not treat him as a boy, for he is over fourteen, I should think;
and if you were to kiss him
>>>
"He might be angry," said Sheila, with perfect simplicity.
"I might," said Lavender; and then, noticing that she seemed
a little surprised, he merely patted her head and bade her go
and get ready for dinner.
Then came the great climax of Sheila's southward journey —
her arrival in London. She was all anxiety to see her future
home; and as luck would have it, there was a fair spring morn-
ing shining over the city. For a couple of hours before, she
had sat and looked out of the carriage-window as the train
whirled rapidly through the scarcely awakened country, and she
had seen the soft and beautiful landscapes of the South lit up by
the early sunlight. How the bright little villages shone, with
here and there a gilt weathercock glittering on the spire of some
small gray church, while as yet in many valleys a pale gray mist
lay along the bed of the level streams or clung to the dense
woods on the upland heights! Which was the more beautiful-
the sharp, clear picture, with its brilliant colors and its awaken-
ing life, or the more mystic landscape over which was still drawn
the tender veil of the morning haze? She could not tell.
only knew that England, as she then saw it, seemed a great
country that was very beautiful, that had few inhabitants, and
that was still and sleepy and bathed in sunshine.
How happy
must the people be who lived in those quiet green valleys by the
side of slow and smooth rivers, and amid great woods and avenues
of stately trees, the like of which she had not imagined even in
her dreams!
But from the moment that they got out at Euston Square
she seemed a trifle bewildered, and could only do implicitly as
her husband bade her -clinging to his hand, for the most part,
as if to make sure of guidance. She did indeed glance somewhat
nervously at the hansom into which Lavender put her, apparently
asking how such a tall and narrow two-wheeled vehicle could be
prevented toppling over. But when he, having sent on all their
luggage by a respectable old four-wheeler, got into the hansom.


## p. 2000 (#190) ###########################################

2000
WILLIAM BLACK
beside her, and put his hand inside her arm, and bade her be of
good cheer that she should have such a pleasant morning to wel-
come her to London, she said "Yes," mechanically, and only
looked out in a wistful fashion at the great houses and trees of
Euston Square, the mighty and roaring stream of omnibuses,
the droves of strangers, mostly clad in black, as if they were
going to church, and the pale blue smoke that seemed to mix
with the sunshine and make it cold and distant.
They were in no hurry, these two, on that still morning; and
so, to impress Sheila all at once with a sense of the greatness
and grandeur of London, he made the cabman cut down by Park
Crescent and Portland Place to Regent Circus. Then they went
along Oxford Street; and there were crowded omnibuses taking
young men into the city, while all the pavements were busy
with hurrying passers-by. What multitudes of unknown faces,
unknown to her and unknown to each other! These people did
not speak: they only hurried on, each intent upon his own affairs,
caring nothing, apparently, for the din around them, and looking
so strange and sad in their black clothes in the pale and misty
sunlight.
"You are in a trance, Sheila," he said.
She did not answer.