The MYSTERY OF GLENMOHR.

Northland Age, Volume 3, Issue 38, 7 May 1907, Page 2

The MYSTERY OF GLENMOHR.

fiy Eric St C K Ross. j ,•* PART 8. CUAPTER XVI, THB WISE PLAN OF HECTOR MACKAY. H ha* been wisely said that one del'd of violence almost invariably leads to another, and the saying proved perfectly true in connection with the lives of the people of Slrathmohr. The patriarchal innoseme and simplicity of a hundred years had been suddenly transformed by the appearance of the yacht Goldwing, and it seemed that the strange maritime misfortunes of the Monteith* had led to the introduction of such crime and mystery as too frequently characterize the scenes of the highest civilization. It is no wonder that the mujority of the people were horrified, and the remainder, without exception, shucked and perplexed. One excitement followed another among the peaceful inhabitants of the out-of-the-way. strath, valley, and fishing station; and it is no wonder that the mending of the fishermen’s nets was neglected, or that preparations for the sowing of the humble crops should have been unseasonably postponed among the simple crofters. If they endeavoured to get rid of the influence of late events at night, the morning brought them face to face with the yacht—the repairing, rigging and beautifying of which were rapidly approaching completion. “Eh ! but she’s a bonnie boat as ever wass!" one man would say to hi* mates, as the standing rigging became tauter upon the raking and tapering masts. “I nofer wa.ss seen a Queen's ship as wull tak' the winds oot o' her sails, and it wass fery strange and amazing, mirover, that there wass nefer any sings but unlucky sings apout them Mogteiths. Weel, it was the Lord’s wull." From such a beginning as this the simple-minded fellows would go into a discussion of the events of the last few weeks, and speculate not only on the disappearance of poor Muriel Monteith, but upon the next likely event In the strange drama of which they wore unprepared stectator*. On the morning following the pursuit of Samson Cask, a body of fishermen were gathered in front of their own cottages, a few yards higher up the slope of the hill than that of Dor.ald M’lver. It was not yet daylight, and they were expressing opinions upon how the man had disappeared. while, with the sharp eyes of born seamen, they permitted nothing to escape their attention. "It wass a miracle, I wass thinking,’’ *aid one. "He could not get oot to sea, and there wass not many place* to tak’ refuge in, until you tome to Whaleyhoe, whatefer." "Oh. wass there not, mirover?" said a companion, endeavouring to light his short pipe with sparks from Bint and steel. "Weel, Donald M’lver could tell ye there wass more Diaces there than fowks wull underitand." "Ay, Donald wa.ss able, but he wass not such a fool !" x "And I for one, wull not be for aggravating Donald, mirover ; but I wass one day behind the Black Rock searching for sinkers, w'hen young Harold M'lver rowed past where I wass, as if it wass a matter of life and d ath. He wass heading for the upricht face o’ the precipice, where I wass nefer see anysing in all my porn days whatefer. Weel, he rows Dehind Thor’s Car, which everybody wull ken stands straight oot o’ the water, an’ I wass nefer see him some oot on the other side; an’ when I rowed after him to see w’hore no wass gon®, he wass not to be seen it all. an' he nefer wass answer me, although I wass calling until the gulls cried oot, too. an' then I camr home like an omadawn an’ a foo’, mirover."

"There was nossing behind Thor’s Car but Charlie’s Hole," said the elderly man musingly. "Nossing !" "Nossing!" acquiesced hall a dozen voices. "But that wass more ass nossing," I said the first speaker nodding to the | loch, where in the flr*t glimmer of day, a man was seen sculling a skiff ■ from the yacht to the shore. i Silently they noted the man land on tb* beach opposite Strathmohr, and Hew Monteith take his place. Am silently they saw the latter row •vt under the *hadow of the road below them to the channel ; and when he had disappeared seawards, they began to talk over his supposed object in making this solitary excursion. A dozen absurd surmises were put forward; but two men succeeded in hitting upon his real mission—a desire to find out the retreat of the fugitive Gask. At last, Celtic fashion, they began to quarrel, and in this state of affairs one proposed to ■submit the whole matter to the general arbitrator of the community— Donald M’lver. To this the majority objected, and the discussion was cut short by the appearance of one or two dames at the doors of the cottages, inviting them in term* more forcible than elegant, to come and have their porridge before it got cold. The two men Evan and Hugh M'Kay, remained behind. "We wull haf our proakfasts in five or twa minutes and a half." said Evan, "and we wull follow Mestcr Monteith." "We wull that," agreed Hugh, "wc wull nefer ask a M'lver whatefer w«ss." jjy And so it came to pass that tjajp

in his own blood. Evan M’Kay had served ten year* In the Royal Naval Reserve, and had passed through a course of surgical instruction in connection with the treatment of wounds likely to be received in action. After superficially examining the insensible man, he said; "Hugh, my lad." "Yew." "It wass fery near the lungs. "That wass pad." "It wass worse than pad mirover. If it wass his lungs it wull kill him, as sure as death." "He wull not die if we can help it" said Hugh. "He wass as pretty a shentlemans and as goot a lads as I nefer kent. I wull cut off my richt hand to do goot to him." "You must not cut off your richt hand for him yet," cried the more experienced brother. "It wass with that richt hand, mirover, that you wull mak' our poat pring him home so quick as Donald M'lver wass a snail to. It wull no be richt, I am thinking to tak’ him to Strathmohr, but if we leave him on the yacht he wull fery likely die." "And for why ?" "Because it wull tak’ a long time, and it wull be not easy for Dr. Sutherland to be always rowing backwards and forwards from the shore. No; Hugh, my poy, we must row to the colonel’s hoose whatefer they wull say, for this man wull be a dead man if the doctor wull not be wiss him at once."

During this colloquy Evan had been binding Hew’s wound up as well as ho could with his brother’s linen handkerchief. When he had finished, he said : "It wull be safest to haf him in his own poat. We wull tow him. Here wass the painter. Mak’ him fast." "I wass thinking," said Hugh, “Whero wass the shot come from?" "And I was* telling you, my lad, that if I wull lif’ much longer. I w r ull know as much of Charlie’s v Hole as any M’lver ass ever lived." "An’ 1 wull say Evan," remarked Hugh significantly, "that thiss wass not the first time that I wull pe smelling a rat." "In hiss hole,” cried Evan with a melancholy smile. "Nefer mind that now, Hugh, my poy. Let us row quickly and steadily." Thoroughly skilled seamen they began rowing as carefully and yet as swiftly as if the burden borne along was a sleeping child, for the sight of whom a dying mother was waiting. It was yet early morning when they drew alongside the jetty, in front of Strathmohr. They arrived only in time, and it was fortunate that Dr. Sutherland happened to be in the closo vicinity, for a little longer delay would have settled the mortal affairs of Hew Monteith for ever. The brothers Mackay were the heroes of the hour, but for. reasons of their own they were very guarded in the information they gave their friends. They were more explicit with Colonel St. Clair and the parish minister, and a general consultation was at once held with Ronald, Hector and Malcolm Monteith, who arrived at Glenmohr shortly after his cousin was brought ashore. “I thought Thorven was unapproachable," said the latter, when it was described where the wounded man was discovered. "So it is from this side," returned the colonel. "From the east there is a difficult ascent; but the cliffs facing the scene of the outrage can scarcely be called Thorven, although they are loftier in the vicinity of the mountain than they a”e farther east. In fact the coast rises gradually from Whaleyghoe until it somewhat abruptly develops into the rear of the mountain, about threo miles from the channel of the loch." "Who could have fired this dastardly shot?" asked Malcolm, thoughtfully. "Who murdered his sister and then hid her body?" cried Ronald, fiercely. "There is some influence at work, that I cannot fathom," murmured Hector Mackay. "It would seem certain that Hew Monteith and his sister were in sombodv's way," proceeded the Reverend Mr. Mackay, "and that their enemy was taking advantage of their presence in a little-known district of Scotland to assassinate them. Witnesses are few and far between in the Hielands," he went on; "but the eye of the Tmmortal never closes in sleep, and Justice generally finds out the guilty."

"Yes, the hand of Justice may be slow in movement here but it is certain to fall upon the miscreants who are causing us all this trouble," exclaimed Ronald. The colonel had been silent for some time, and his eyes had been fixed, accidently at first, but intently at last, upon the face of the owner of the Goldwing. He noticed that Mr. Monteith’s face grew pale and then red. As Mr. Mackay, senior, uttered the words, "It would seem certainly that Hew Monteith and his sister were in somebody's way," the hot blood returned more painfully as the minister closed his speech, and Ror.ald angrily spoke of justice being satisfied. He certainly did not at that moment believe Malcolm Monteith guilty of crime, and he was the last man in tin world to insult a person der his own roof; but for the life of ! him he could not refrain from saying j pointedly : "Mr Malcolm Monteith, do you I know of anyone who would profit by i the death of your cousins?" | The little gentleman looked up suddenly, and in a hurried manner re- ; plied : j "Under other circumstances I should certainly refuse to answer a question put in such a tone; but out of respect for your well-known charade-*, and with the memory ever before me of the kindness I have re- ] ceived at your hands and the hands j of your family, I will frankly answer ! ‘No.’ I know of no one who would \ profit by the death of either ©f my i cousins." j "I beg your pardon if I seemed | suspicious of you," proceeded the | blunt old soldier. "The fact is, we !,JUr&isurrounded by such strange, such j extmjprdinacy circumstances, that we $ not know what to believe, or how

to bt brotiier ana sister—uw .im? most beautiful, amiable and accomr plished; the gentleman handsome, cultivated, and perhaps one of the best companions I have ever met in my life. It is all very strange and most unaccountable." "And yet perfectly natural," exclaimed Hector Mackay, rising with a sudden and unlooked-for display 1 of energy. "We all go to the moors to finish up the shooting season, and so that that .might be effective, every male servant is pressed to join and make a formidable battue. The lady who cannot join us, from indisposition, is seen and attacked by a ruffianly stranger, whose looks alone are sufficient to condemn him. . He has not time to ransack the rooms from the sudden and unexpected appearance of Ronald coming from the moors. He waits until that horrified visitor leaves for assistance, and then he returns to conceal the body of the woman he has murdered. Having thus succeeded in committing an act that must certainly delay, if not entirely defeat the ends of justice he —I believe after a heavy fit of drunkenness—endeavours to escape. He is pursued, but, from probably an early connection with and knowledge of the coast, finds a hidingplace among the rocks; which the pursuers in the gloaming cannot perceive. We knew he was armed, because he stole a fowling-piece and ammunition, and we saw the weapon as well. Mr. Hew Monteith—displeased at our conclusion the night before—rashly resolves to look for the murderer of his sister at the earliest possible hour of daylight; and having obtained a boat, without any suspicion attaching to his object he proceeds—accidentally, perhaps—to the neighbourhood of the assassin’s hiding-place. Monteith is seen and exposed to the murderer, while the latter is concealed from sight, and probably in a position all bdt inaccessible to the pursuer. The instinct of self-preservation, which will be found in the breasts of the most v wretched, and the thought that he has, perhaps been discovered, prompts the murderer once mord to imbrue his hands in blood. He fires, seriously wounds his pursuer, and would most probably have proceeded to hide all trace of this crime also but for the timely presence of two good fellows who succeed in bringing our unfortunate friend home in time to enable our doctor to snatch him from the jaws of death. Colonel St. Clair—father— Ronald!" the young fellow continued "I can hear our friends and neighbours assembling for the projected search of the country. Dispose of them as you will, for the purpose of scou”ing the country for what remains of Miss Monteith. As for Ronald and myself, we will take a few good fellows with us and search every nook and crannie among the rocks round Thor’s Car, and for miles on either side, for this murderer, and if we lose no time, we may be successful in our quest." "I hope Heaven may guide you, my son,” said the father, with emotion. "Hector," said the colonel, "you would have made a grand advocate. It's a pity to make a fellow like you food for powder and shot. We'll do as you have planned, and it may be that Heaven will bless our efforts. Ah," continued the colonel, "here is the very man I was wishing to see! No living man knows the coast like Donald M'lver—and , here comes the thrawn auld carle, just in time!" Donald was indeed there, and was soon in his element as directorgeneral of the sea forces—three boats —including his own whaler, which led out of the loch in grand style. The colonel noiselessly instructed the small owners in the neighbourhood and his farmers amounting to over thirty horsemen, what routes to take while searching for the missing girl. Every pool in the meadows and the moorlands were to be examined while every peat cutting in the mosses was to undergo the same attention. The colonel himself, Mi’. Malcolm Monteith and Mr. Mackay were to join the searchers at different points at certain hours and forty men—crafters, farm labourers and fishermen were to look through the ravines, fir plantations, and the clumps of bushes of the hillsides on every hand, one but an experienced military commander could have organised such an exhaustive expedition. Alas ! Sunset saw both the land and the sea forces back, but neither the murderer nor the inanimate form of his victim had been found!

CHAPTER XVII. AN EXTRAORDINARY COMMUNICATION. Three days after this ineffectual search the Procurator-Fiscal arrived. He was a very apathetic gentleman, and calmly approved of everything done by Colonel St. Clair. As a matter of form, and because he greatly valued the honour of living under the retired soldier's roof for even a short period, he framed and ordered bills to be printed and distributed all over the country, offering a handsome reward for the apprehension of the criminal, and a lesser sum for any information that might lead to the tracing of the missing lady. Copies were sent to all the Northern and the principal Southern newspapers, and the Highland mystery soon became the theme of conversation from Land’s End to John o’ Groat’s. Soon other and greater subjects came up for consideration, and so, after the usual nine days' wonderment, the mystery of Glenmohr was forgotten. The public prosecutor, Mr. M’Allan having done his duty so 'magnificently, set off for home again, and the local interest once more centred at the big house, where Hew Monteith still lay insensible to the excitement that had hem convulsing the countryoutside.

During this period Malcolm Monteith acted as a model cousin. Some time before, Hew had reopened correspondence with old friend's all over the country, and by the time of the last outrage he was in the habit of receiving more letters daily than all the rest of the community. These

One beautiful spring morning he rowed on hoard the now neatly-fin-.ished yacht, the bearer of an unusual number of communications. He had driven down from Glenmohr, and a lighted at the general shop—which wav 1 also the pos,t office—light-heart-ed and fully appreciative of beautiful weather. The trees within the Glen were not so dwarfed as those exposed to the Atlantic breezes along the northern coast, and bright green buds were now bursting out, with the promise of adding unsuspected charms to a scene that, to him, had only been grand in its wintry snows and bleakness.

The short grass in the pasture lands was being changed from brown to green also in fitful patches; the river sparkled merrily as it ran its course; and the bright sunshine, after silvering the snow-clad summits of Thorven and Orrery, glinted in myriads of nooks and veins of the great granite precipices which divided the peaks from the fir-clad slopes and the more fruitful stretches of land below. Beneath all, and reflecting all, in a manner totally unexpected to one who had only seen Strathmohr in the gloomy; winter the great loch gleamed like a fairy ocean of purest crystal, and the Gold wing, radiant in new paint—black, with dead-gold line—and showing numberless bright spots of burnished brass, sat upon this "silver sea," every'- line of her graceful form, every spar and every rope faithfully mirrored as in a looking glass. The dapper little gentleman, Malcolm Monteith, was enjoying all this until he came out of the post office. Black Sandy Mackay's bonnie daughter and chief assistant, was quite over-powered by his gracious smile and "Soothern " courtesy; but that smile turned to a frown, and the pale face became flushed, the finelyformed lips grew hard and tight and the gentle blue-eyes drew dark, fierce and steel-looking as they fell upon the seal of the top letter of the bundle just handed him. Once out in the road he paused by the river side, and deliberately read the legend printed in blue letters upon the front of an official-looking missive. It ran thus :

Murgaby, Pocklington and Co., Financial Private inquiry and Next-Of-Kin. Agones, ■Beoad-street, Bloomsbury, London, YV.C

"Next-of-kin agents!" he murmured between his gloaming teeth. “At last they have lound him out. Apd I —all my trouble, all my expenses, all the risk of this accursed journey, must be lost—sacrificed in vain." He was not very coherent, because he was very, angry, and betrayed his anger. He did not see Dr. Sutherland pass him on his way to his cousin's bedside, but the doctor saw his face in time to prevent him from speaking, and he afterwards said that there was an evil expression on it that was as shocking as it was unexpected. The sight of that letter had obliterated all the beauty of the scene for Malcolm Monteith. The sun no longer shone down upon the robust glories of Northern nature. The mountains no longer lifted their heads to Heaven in matchless grandeur. The silver sheen of that , beautiful lake had no longer any brightness for him, because the heart within him was an unclean thing, shrouded in the darkness of selfishness and covetousness, and the gloomy repulsiveness of its character had communicated itself to all the fascinations that surrounded him.

He suddenly became conscious of the fact that he might be betraying himself, and after an effort, he succeeded in recovering that well-bred air which makes modern mankind so uniform in aspect. He found his boat waiting for him at the jetty, and was quickly rowed aboard the Goldwing.

The calkers .were still employed on the decks, but his own state cabin had always been reserved for his constantly-expected presence. Having secured the door, he drew the crimson velvet curtain back from the porthole, and admitted a bright stream of sunlight. Then he tore the letter open and read the following peculiar epistle ;

"My dear Sir,—lt may seem somewhat premature to call you ‘my dear sir,’ in this, our first communication; but I have no doubt before wo have known each other long, the style of address will be perfectly justified.

"It pi ay, or may not be known to you, that the firm, Murgaby, Pocklington and Co. is universally acknowledged to be the most successful as well as the most indefatigable and disinterested, of all financial agency establishments. Our enterprising endeavours to obtain, so to speak, the whole world for clients, has led us in the past, as undoubtedly it will lead us in the future, to pursue our inquiries, public and private, to the uttermost ends of the earth. "Our principal assistant, and special commissioner, Mr. Eaves ley, returned last December from one of the uttermost ends of the earth—viz., California—where he had, in fact, been despatched to inquire into a matter that concerns you closely. That matter may be called, in so many words, a legacy, a fortune, or a colossal fortune, and we believe you heir to it. We have been searching for you since the period of Mr. Eavesley’s return, but without success, notwithstanding the fact that we. have spared neither time nqr trouble nor expense in the pursuit of your whereabouts. The time we cannot recall; the trouble we will put up with for your sake, and the expenses will come out of the estate. "You may or may not be aware, sir, that you have had an avuncular relation who died a millionaire. When we say 'died ’ we are not quite accurate, perhaps. Our Mr. Eavesley says he is reported to have expired in his boots; in other words, that death came suddenly in the shape of a conical bullet—calibre 38-42, whatever that may mean—from the bqrrel of a Derringer, to which the same qualifying words may also apply. The scene of his decease—unexpected

and house property 'in San Fiandsco and Sacramento. "From information received—as our friends the police would say—we gather that for reasons that have not transpired, your uncle,, Mr. John Monteith, was known for a considerable period as Jack Scott, or Scotty Our prolonged inquiries led to the conclusion that his heirs were his two surviving nephews and one niece; but it has come to our knowledge very lately that Mr. Scott, or Scotty, did his duty as an Englishman, and made a Will—in. view of the fatal ending of a certain feud which had lasted several yeax-s between him and the Californian gentleman who held the pistol which diischa? -od the bullet (calibre 38-42) which killed the uncle whose assumed name was Scott or Scotty. "Now this will, the solicitor has been known to say, left the whole of the testator's property to you, sir, and your sister Muriel—the testator believing that the other nephew was already well provided lor. It is believed that this will was entrusted by Mr. John Monteith, alias Jack Scott, or Scotty, to a friend to convey to England. As, however, no claim has been made by you, we presume it has not yet come to hand; and as over three years have passed since the testator died (suddenly), we think it time to bring matters to a settlement. If the Will has not reached you, it may have been destroyed. It may have been destroyed, of course, by the desire of the testator, with a view of benefiting the other nephew equally with yourself and your sister, and of course, your uncle would have a perfect right to do this. My—nay, our belief—the belief of Milrgaby as well as of myself is—that the bearer of the Will has either tampered with, or is waiting patiently to make the best money he can out of it.

"In one word—no, in three hr may be four words—‘We suspect foul play' and the person we suspect most is Mr. Malcolm Monteith, your cousin', of whom we know something that leads us to believe that he has been cognizant of affairs for some time, and has been purposely keeping you out of the way of busy places where news pregnant with gtfeat possibilities would be sure,to reach you. "Our suspicions having been justified at length by the news now published of the barbarous, cruel and murderous attack upon Miss Monteith, I propose writing to you at more length, and have, at the eleventh hour, concluded to visit you among the mountain fastnesses of the semi-civilized regions of Caledonia—in other words, ‘Bonnie Scotland.’

"At midnight to-night I depart from Euston for your retreat. When I think of the fortune at stake, I am not surprised tjiat ‘beautiful lives,’ are sacrificed for filthy lucre. I have, sir, myself seen such terrible things done for comparatively small sums of money, that whe»n large amounts — millions—come into our consideration I would be inclined to suspect my brother, siste-, or father, had I a father, sister, or brother. Since I have no such relations, I may say I could almost suspect Murgaby in such a case as this, and for that reason I come to meet you face to face.

"It may or may not be remembered by you that some one says, ‘Do in Rome as the Romans do.’ In view of such valued and ancient advice, I have purchased from a costumier—a friend of mine—in Wych-street, Strand, a full Highland costume. It appears that I travel by rail to Inverness, in the vicinity of which will be found the field of Culloden, where the famous battle of that name was fought, &c. "From Inverness I retreat back into the beginning of the cent-ury and take the coach to Dornoch. Dornoch —knock' the door—a very palpable pun, and irresistible to a native of Cockaigne. In Dornoch, I am told, I shall no doubt find some conveyances to carry me across the sheep deserts of Sutherlandshire —whatever that may mean—to the close vicinity of Glenmohr. The Procurator-Fiscal’s proclamations have drawn me to you, and I bless the Procurator-Fis-cal. When we meet, sir, we shall no doubt devise means to outwit our enemies—even Murgaby himself, should he turn traitor. Meanwhile I have the honour to subscribe myself —in the hope of meeting you on the heels of this lengthened epistle.—My dear sir, your most faithful and obliged servant, "SPACHDALE POCKLINGTON, "Managing Partner of Murgaby, "Pocklington and Co. “To Hew Monteith Esq., Glenmohr Strathmohr, N. 8."

As Malcolm Monteith was finishing the perusal of this extraordinary epistle, the inmates of Strathmohr were breathlessly awaiting a change in the patient to whom it was addressed, and whose misfortunes had endeared him to all. The wounded man lay among a mountain of white pillows, his pale face looking almost ghastly, surrounded as it was by long dark flowing locks that had not of late been dressed. His cheeks were sunken and his drooping moustaches fortunately veiled his blue and shrivelled lips. A crisis had come, and while Dr. Sutherland waited somewhat impatiently below, the motherly Mrs. -Bruce moved from place to place, softly, as if her kindly action could precipatate the favourable end so fervently hoped for.

Facing the sunlight which streamed brightly—no longer with its wintry oppressiveness—through the wide casement, sat Agnes St. Clair, like one 6i the sixteenth century ladies of the noble house to which she belonged, waiting on the knight who had borne her colours on some bloody field against the English hordes.

Of what was she thinking ? Of the musical afternoons while Muriel was still with them ? Of the hopes that then had g-own until they became the sweetest thoughts of all her life? Ay, of this, and much more. Above all of this strange despairing lovemaking in the corner of the marquee upon the frozen loch ; and as she thought of his burning words, her

bravest ot her ancestral Vikings. Nearly a fortnight had elapsed since the adventure on the rocks, and the patiend had as yet showed mo sign of intelligence. The bullet had at length been abstracted, and this, the doctor said, would bring him back to life, or close his earthly journey. One mental shock of a terrible nature, and two physical shocks equally serious, were enough to destroy the strongest constitution. Since the bullet wound only the simplest liquid nourishmiMit could be administered: and so the the doctor was not very sanguine Agnes, watching his lips, thought she saw them move. She bent breathlessly over him and had the satisfaction to hear him murmur some words that seemed familiar to her ears. Oh, how weak he was! Absently or instinctively hoi’ soft hand stole into his thin one lying on the coverlet. Immediately the words grew in volume, and they were—a musical memory : v Who shall say that fortune grieves him, While the Star of Hope she leaves him ? Me nae cheerfu’ twinkle lights me— Dark despair around benights me. "Hope, hope!" she murmured, so softly that the words might well be deemed angel’s whispers. "Hope!" he whispered with a long sigh; and then his dark eyes slowly opened, and with a gaze full of rapture on the beautiful glorified face above him, he proceeded in the same low tpne :

"My love—my love ! I have had such a beautiful dream, but it was followed by darkness; but only for a moment, for light has come again, and I am happy." "So saying he drew her hand to his lips, and fell into a soft slumber with it lying there. A moment later Mrs. Bruce told the doctor what had occurred, and the good man cried :

"He is saved ! I’ll be president o' th’ Royal College of Surgeons yet !” and the whole household rejoiced.

CHAPTER XVIII. A REMARKABLE LIKENESS. Two days following the pathetic scene described at the close of the last chapter, Agnes St. Clair was returning from a long morning walk, when she was amazed at the appearance, as she supposed, of one who had not yet recovered sufficiently to leave his own room.

The morning was a misty one, and the God of Day was seen like a great globe of red fire just peeping over the shoulder of Thorven. The grey shadows of the sky and sea were floating over the "Shore-road," and it was out of these shadows that the apparition rose.

The young lady was coming down the favourite descent from the Headland towards the cottage of the M’— Ivers w r hen the figure appeared. The first effect it had upon *her was to make her halt, her heart beating in a manner she had nevfer felt it beat before. In some sense ashamed of this she hurried on again, and at last w'as convinced that no delirious invalid had escaped from the custody of careless nurses, but that a man of flesh, blood muscle and bone was walking towards her. Was he a stranger to the neighbourhood ? No, he walked w’ith too much confidence and too little show of curiosity for that. Familiar and strange in appearance at one moment, she felt more than amazedconfused. For four long days she had # seldom left the vicinity of the room of the wounded Hew Monteith, and now while she knew he was unable to leave his comfortable, if enforced retreat, she seemed to see him come up the brow of the slight ascent to greet her. There v r as the same tall figure, the same grace of movement, the same long, dark locks, hanging over the collar of his jacket. At that distance the face w'as not so easily distinguished; but she fancied she could see the large dark e3'es, with the heavily-defined, but somew’hat bushy eyebrows. The heavy drooping moustache was also there, and, above all, he was clad in the same, or similar garments to those which he first w'ore after the night of the rescue of the Goldwing. While noting all this she approached nearer and nearer to the interesting person. Tender-hearted, generous, loyal and true, far from proud as she was, she still had that undefined pride of birth which is a virtue w'hen the family one belongs to is noble and honourable; and it was this last feeling that caused her to become angry with herself, when all at once she recognized in the bold-looking pedestrian Harold M'lver—Donald’s grandson. Yes; there sure enough he strode along with a swing and a graceful ease that could never be attained by men who were not used to active exertions. As he came nearer, however, she found that he was broader of shoulder, stouter, stronger, and somewhat taller than the man who lay, perhaps, still within the Shadow of Death, in her own dear home. The eyes of Harold M'lver and Hew Monteith were twin pairs, but those of the former were bold commanding, and daring, and not likely to be daunted. Those of the latter were dreamy, or flashing, according as fitful emotions moved him. It was plain that one man passed his life in the open air—the other in study; that one battled fearlessly with fierce natures and the most powerful of elements, while the most painful efforts of the other were exercised in the feminine atmosphere of the salon and the ballroom, exchanging intellectual challenges with fair dames or men as lazy and careless as himself. In short, one represented force and activity—the other lassitude and careless dreaminess;—the one the indomitable enterprising power that has laid the foundations of the most lasting empires; the other the luxurious nature that contributed most to the decay and fall of Greece, of Rome and of other ancient civilizations. The first meant progress with the

made in God's own image, ano strangely alike in form, but as if to prove how wond rful Nature is. in being symmetrical, and yet never perfectly uniform, they were as widely different in tastes, habits, and aspirations as if they belonged to other lands and other races. Clad in blue pilot pea-jacket of admirable make, and with trousers to match tucked within handsome highheeled sea boots, he looked exactly like the man with whom Agnes St. Clair had skated day after day on the frozen loch during the first happy days of their acquaintance. To.make the likeness the more complete Harold also had a turban of otter skin. The girl was amazed, and then in a moment, like a flash of lightening th« memory of the New' Year’s fete returned. The skating quadrille gained new significance and the minuet with the dead and lost Muriel Monteith of this same grandson of a fisherman appeared to indicate with his present costume, that he was not what he seemed.

They met face to face—Harold and Agnes St. Clair. The Highland fishermen and crofters, although as a rule very poor, are never sy-

cophantic. True as steel to those they love they belong to the classes of society who enjoy more money and w’orldly comforts than they do, they never bow their heads to man of woman born, except in the most independent manner. In this isolated, and, for a time, happily situated corner of dear, old Scotland, comparative prosperity had never spoilt the character of the people. The good colonel w r as one of Nature’s noblemen, and in an easy way he looked upon every man as his brother, if he only did his duty or endeavoured to do so to the best of his ability. In walking out he was in the habit of giving the men he met a half-military salute, and he was not displeased if the people returned the signal of his appreciation in the same happy-go-lucky way. For more than thirty years he«had been away "soldiering," as he simply called a most heroic career, and during all that period no farmer-fisherman or crofter had had his rent raised; and so it is not to be wondered at that the people looked up to the groy-liaired hero as they w'ould have looked up to a wise and tender-hearted general father.

It was this man’s deepest grief that for miles around him on every hand poor people were not able to live from the rack-rents raised by rascally agents, in the name of people who w'ere long associated wfith the noblest pages of Scottish history. They met face to face, Harold M’lver and Agnes St. Clair, and the former simply, but very respectfully gave the salute made so popular by her father. She returned it in her most gracious manner, and then went on her way, w'ondcring where the grandson of an old fisherman could have acquired such personal dignity, such of loftiness of looks and general demeanour, and, above all. in what society he had acquired the art of dancing a minuet. To be Continued.