THE SECRET OF BIRS BUCHAN; or SILAS BARRON’S DAUGHTERS.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXV, Issue 5134, 28 November 1903, Page 2

THE SECRET OF BIRS BUCHAN; or SILAS BARRON’S DAUGHTERS.

CHAPTER I.

[All Rights Reserved.]

BY J. D. REID (Kaleidoscope).

Author of “Jlabel Vyner’s Love,” “Tried By Fire,” “When Jack Comes Home,” “Hector Lieu’s Last Song,” etc.

THE STORM TRYST., “What’s that? A storm, sir? There’s ano uo far a.wa’, or I’m sair mistaken.” Tho speaker was one of two men, who were slowly traversing a rocky track loading along tho coast South of Murdoch Hoad in tho direction of Orudcn. A coastguarckimui by his dress, and apparently of middle ago, he was a man of singularly striking appearance. Although not tall, barely reaching middle height, ho possessed a figure of exceptional breadth and power of build. His limbs also showed a muscular development far in excess of that allotted to average humanity. His face, weatherbeaten and roughened into a brick-rod colour by long exposure to the elements, was instinct with a sort of shrewd kindliness, underlying which. however, larked unmistakable indications of determination and courage. Altogether, even a casual stranger looking at him would have had no difficulty in believing that in all Aberdeenshire there was not a man who could prove a truer friend or more dangerous enemy than Goorao Gordon the eoastguardsman. Tho other was a young man of -perhaps twenty-five. Ho was a full head taller than his companion, and his frame was much slighter. Indeed, contrasted with tho burly proportions of tho latter, ho looked almost effeminate, and it required a more than momentary inspection to discern that he, too, in his way, was a remarkably good type of manhood. Ho was very handsome.- alike in face and figure. His limbs were straight and lithe, bis form well made. His face was dark, almost swarthy, and his features as delicately chiselled as those, of a woman. But there was no traco of womanliness in tho curvo of the strong jaw and the fearless look glowing in ihe dark eyes, evidence homo out by tho lines of the .firm mouth, just visiblo under tho blaclf moustache. That ho was a stranger iu tho locality was apparent alika iu his speech and dross. Tho latter consisted of a suit of coarse groy tweed. Ho wore a pair of heavy walking boots, and had a capacious hand-bag slung over bis shoulders by a leathern strap. Such was Forest Freeman, artist. “Indeed,” returned he in answer to his companion’s prediction, “that seems hard to believe just now. I never witnessed a mere glorious sunset, or one mom peaceful, oven for October.” “It’s weel enough,” was the reply, “but it’s no for no thing 'that The foam’s streekin’ tho water roun’ tho Buchan Ness an’ —Wheesht! d’ye hoar the moanin’ soun’?” Both stopped and listened attentively. Then, amid tho sunset stillness of tho Windless evening Freeman became conscious of a strange noise—a.,low, hoarse murmur, rising and falling, swelling ana dying like tho deep notes of a distant organ. Jt seemed to come from nowhere, and lie looked around him inquiringly in vain attempt to discover tho cause. Far beneath where they stood, tho sea lay shimmering like a plain of glass—tho faint undulations on its surface wero barely discernible, and tho sound of tho surf below could nob reach so high. Landward, nothing offered affording an explanation of tho mystery, and it Was .with a slightly puzzled face that tho artist turned to his companion. “What is it?” ho asked. . “It’s Bins Buchan,”-was the reply. “I don’t understand,” said Freeman. “Wee!, tho Buffers of Buchan,” .answered Gordon, “that’s tho richt name, but tho folk hero caff it Birs Buchan.” “Tho famous.cave,” asked the artist quickly. The other nodded. “Where is it?—how far from here?” “A guid bit in front,” answered Gordon. “Wo can soe’t as wo go along. Vo said yo wad like to see a storm hero, an’ gin yo like ye can seo aue the nicht by Birs Buchan. YVll mind o’ it a’ the life o’ ye, I’m sure.” ‘T can well believe it,” replied Freeman, as they turned to resume their journey, “for a more gruesome coast I never saw.”

Tlio epithet was amply merited. Few' coasts on earth oiler a more appalling front to a igpriuer than that of Buchan. Granite^—grim, hollowed into countless cars a rugged and rock-strewn above and beneath, woe to the doomed ship whose crow, from foolhardiness or mischance, approaches it too closely in the winds and currents of the wild North Sea—that cold, cruel, treacherous sea whose depths are paved with the bones of tho dead. The travellers bad walked some way in silence. Freeman listening intently to the moan of the Bullers in front, and Ids companion watching him closely —a keen, searching, but not unkindly look—when the latter spoke. “Yo’ro no Aberdeen awa’?” he said, interrogatively. "No,” replied the artist, with a smile, “I am a native of Edinburgh.” “That’s Scots, onyway,” said the coastguardsman, in a tone of satisfaction. “I dinna like foreigners.” . "You don’t call Englishmen and Irishmen foreigners, surely?” returned Freeman, with a smile. Gordon shrugged his broad shoulders. “They’ra no much better,” he replied, "but gin wo dinna want wet skins or wo get hame, we’d better he steppin’ oot. I dinna like the look o’ the sky.” Freeman followed the direction of his companion’s glance seaward. To his inexperienced eyo there was nothing to induce haste; yet he could not fail to notice that the peacefulness of which lie had before spoken was somehow gone. Tho light that had filled tho sky had passed away, leaving it cold and hard as steel. Before cloudless, it was now flecked with patches of angry-looking vapour that grow visibly under the eye, while long ribbons and fluffs of mist adk vanced before them towards tho zenith. Beneath, the sea was still unmoved, only showing here and there flashes of foam, that freshened momentarily as tne gloaming drew rapidly on. There was no wind as yet, nevertheless from 1.. c Inmimerahlo sea caves there issued a weird, strange sighing, and the moan of Birs Buchan had grown to a dull, honrso roar. Instinctively, the young man felt that his companion was right, and that the storm was near at hand.

“How long do you think it will bo before it ■'begins?” he asked, lengthening his )3ac9 to match his companion’s rapid ot.rido. - “Aboot an hour,” was the, reply: “but I ken a' n place—tho hooso of a cottar body—no far aw?,’, whaur we can bids for tho uicht.” Little more passed between them for A considerable time. Both were too

anxious to reach shelter to talk much, besides which, the. speed at wluon they progressed, ami the toilsome naturo of the path disinclined them for conversation. Fast as they went, however, the ominous aspect of tho elements grow yet more rapidly. Tho last gleam of the sunset had disappeared, and tho gloom around was deepening every second. Tho sky had become almost wholly overcast, only showing hers and there, and that at wido intervals gleams of faint bluo and steel grey. On the water broader or narrower trails of diverse colouring, interlaced like fighting serpents and dotted with bubbles of foam, showed that tho currents were moving and that the tide race had begun. Still tho wind held away, and while it did so, sea and sky could only threaten.

At hist, at a point whero tho track reached tho northern side of a small creek, above which enormous masses of rock rose abruptly into tho air, Goruon stopped with tho words — “Gin, yo gan’ up there, yo can soo Birs Buchan as wool as it can he seen withoot a boat.” Tho other was about to ascend when ho was startled by an excited exclamation from his companion of—- “ Good Godl Mad Mysio-1” Freeman also looked upward and in turn uttered an ejaculation. There was reason for their surprise. Perched on a dizzy pinnacle of the rock above, on tho very edge of the precipitous cliff, was the form of a woman. So near was she to tho knife-liko edge that her extended arm and a portion of her dress hung over tho gulf below. Her faco was turned steadily seaward as if watching, and her wholo attitude expressed a still, intense expectancy. Freeman turned to his companion. “In tho name of heaven, what is she doing there, and at such a time?” ho asked. “Watching Birs Buchan,” replied Gordon, his face and voice alike betraying alarm and perplexity. , And here, for tho benefit of those' of my readers who have never seen this natural horror, let mb interpose a brief description. One of tho sides of a deep sea inlet, above which the towering cliffs descend from a vast height sheer into the water, extends a considerable distance seaward. On tho sea face of the promontory, the cave is situated. Although, from tuo circumstance of its being roofless—'a tremendous open funnel, in fact—a partial view of tho interior may bo had by walking or scrambling round the rocks above—a performance requiring no ordinary' courage—yet a boat is needed in order to explore tho cave itself. Tho entrance is a narrow archway, worn by tho eternal action or the water through tho solid rock. Once inside, tho visitor is conscious of a feeling of awe, deejiGning in some minds even into terror. It is impossible to give in language an adequate idea of the eerie nature of this gruesome place. Surrounded by a circular wall of vast height, through tho open top of which tho light of the brightest day can only descend in sufficient volume to produce a dim gloom; floating on an abyss of water of unknown depth, and which, in there, is never still, he tho calm outsido never so profound; deafened by the hoarse roar of tho pent-up swell writhing and raging in tho deep oaves that pierce the rock all. round—bad enough this is in a calm. AVhat it must bo in a storm, when all tho struggling forces of wind and soa and resisting rocks contend and madden in this awful chasm, tho mind of man fails to conceive. ■"

Such is tho famed Bullers of Buchan, and to those who have seen it,.it requires no great effort of imagination to doom it tho homo, or rather boll, of ocean demons, expiating nndreainablo wrong in unimaginable agony. Following answer which ho bad received from tho coastguardsmau. Freeman stood looking at him in amazement. , “Watching Birs Buchan!” ho repeated. “Just that,” returned the other; “(Ad I no tell yo that she’s mad.” - “But she cannot bo allowed to remain there,” exclaimed Freeman excitedly, and turned as Though to sock a path to tho summit. ..“What wad yo do?” asked Gordon, arresting tho’ other’s impulsive action. “Yo would not like the lassie to throw horsel’ doon. into the sea?” “No,” replied tho other in a startled tone, stopping short. “Would that ho the result?” “It would that,” was tho answer, spoken in a tone of impressive earnestness. “If yo want to help her wo manna go near her or tho wind rises. Thatwiniia ho long,” ho added, with an upward glanco at the sky, across which tho now heavy masses of cloud were beginning to drift. Then, noticing his companion’s look of curiosity, ho went on;

“Sit ye doon by ms on this staao for a little, Mr Freeman, an’ I’ll tel] yo a’ about yon puir thing. It’s a wacfu’ story, and often my heart’s been Bair for her an’ hers.” Accepting the invitation Freeman seated himself beside Gordon in the deep shadow of an overhanging rock, chosen in order to prevent premature discovery on tho part of the unhappy being standing still as a stone on the edge of the cliff above them. After a moment’s pause tho coastguardsman began. Ho spoke in a low tone..for just then tho /toad portentious hush that immediately precedes the outburst of a tempest and which was only broken by, or rather blent with, the dull muffled roar of Bins Buchan coming into the sheltered nook, just then it fell around and over them with a feeling of expectant awe. “It’s no a year sin Mysio Barron and Willio Maud were married,” ho said. “He was an Englishman, the second mate o’ the barque Carolan o’ Aberdeen. Ho -was a bright, hearty fellow, an’ I never saw two love ithor as they did. She was a braw -young lass then o’ twenty, an’ for that part she’s bounie yet, although I diuna like to look at her face noo. We el, as I said, they wero married, an’ just a month after, he sailed wi’ the Carolan. The voyage was to bo a short auc, an’ then ho was to bo made first mate.” Ho paused for a moment, and then resumed in a lower tone:— “The Carolan never cam’ hame. She was driven ashore in a storm just at Birs Buchan there an’ no a soul on board escaped.” His listener uttered an exclamation of pity. “Ay,” went on Gordon, “it was a sad business, an’ sair were many hearts in Aberdeen over the bead of it. Mysie Maud lost her reason altogether, piur thing. She wiuna believe that, her man’s deid—says that she had a tryst to keep wi’ him at Birs Buchan: an’ every storm that comes on she’s up on tho crag there watchin’ for him. , It’s heartbreakiiT to sec her.”

“It is,” assented Freeman, n-heso sympathies were deeply stirred. “But' is it not dangerous for her?” “It is that,” returned' Gordon. ‘Tout she earnin' be kept from tho cliff.” “Has she no friends?” asked Free-, man, ,

“Ay, a father an’ sister who live ia Aberdeen.” “And can’t they prevent her risking her life in this way?” asked tho artist in amazeimnu. “They tried to,” was tho answer, “But she gaed fair frantic, an’ wad hao died in their hands, so they had to let her have her ain way. She’s very quiet and patient excep’ when I hero’s, a storm cornin’ on, an’ then siio must bo up yonder, reason or nano, to keep her tryst.’’ “But whero does sho live?” queried Freeman. “Sho can’t conic from Aberdeen at a moment’s notice.” “Nor does site. She lives doon by at Slains Castle in ano o’ the gamekeeper’s booses. lior fnither’s a. cauld-hoartcd an Id knave; but her sister comes to soo her whiles, though sho docs hot often visit them. They're Lanarkshire folk, and there's no (mickle inair kent- aboofc them than I hcv told ye.” After ho ceased, Freeman sat silent for sumo minutes. Then, in a tone of one who socks aid in solving a perplexing problem, ho asked—- " Why did you say wo must not approach this unhappy creature till tho wind rises 4” ‘•Because when tho storm comes, her reason goes. Tho rain an’ tho thunder, tho mirk an’ the sea dinna seem to put her far by horse!’' —naethiug but tho win’ can do that. Before her mind gangs a’thegither she’s as wild as a doer, an’ wad kill herself afore sho wad let a Icoviu’ soul near her. I think that she minds o’ her folks tryin’ to keep her frao Birs Buchan. But when tho win’ comes, it’s as I said. A bundesr men micht bo a’ about her an’ sho wad uo’er soo them. It’s a’ very strange —Hah 1” Tho exclamation was caused hy a snda den glare of lightning that sbemo athwart tho dim twilight, flooding air and sky with its bluo intensity. Gordon rose. “That’s tho storm at last.” he said. Almost as ho spoko a low, moaning, rushing sound, clearly distinct from tho noi.so of Birs Buchan, fell on their oars. It died away for a moment, and then, gathering and growing, instinct with the brassy clang of tlto storm, came tbo rush of tho hurricane. “We-can gang noo,” said Gordon, “but for ony sake tak’ caro what yo do.” \yitliout’ further speech they left the shelter of tho rock and sought the summit of tho crag, Gordon lending;. It was characteristic of both that neither cnco thought of the probabilities of spending tho wholo night, on the top of tho rock, exposed ,to tho faco of tho storm. In the elder man this indifference might bo due to familiarity with such things; in the younger to chivalrous pity. Whatever the cause, it is certain that neither hesitated in the ascent. ■■ ,j: ! -- As they reached'tho top,' a broken, craggy mass of disjointed ledges 'and rounded eminences, both instinctively paused to view tho scone before them. It was darkening fast, but there waa still light enough left to carry tha vision for miles. Tho wind was blowing freshly, and was gathering strength every moment. Already tho sea' bolow was tossing tho white foam caps into tho air. Tho wrack overhead, too, was moving swiftly, piling itself . into confused shapes tho while. Away on tho left tho light house on tho Buchan Ness shot its broad, clear radiance through the deepening dusk, while at a lesser distance on tho right faint twinkling gleam- broke from tho windows of Slains uastlo, towering on tha crest of its precipitous cliff, as,if defying alike tho storm and thoq-sea.',, A,, ~ But it was not with tho above features- of tbo scene that jtjho. eyes and minds of tho two men vverp filled! ’Da gaming tho summit after tho first brief glance around them, tha. gaze of both sought instinctively tho form of Mysic, and it was with a fooling of unutterable relief that Freeman observed that she bad quitted her perilous position for a safer ono somo paces from the edge of tho descent. All his life afterwards tho artist never forgoo tha picture sho presented. She was tali and finely formed. Her slender figure, though wasted, 1 , still retained all tho grace and lightness oi youth. As tho wind pressed back her neglected dress against her limbs their perfect contour could bo plainly seen. Her head was bare, and tbo‘ loose fastening of her long hair had become unbound, letting it stream!.behind, her in tho wind, the strength, of ; which caused her frail form ,to bend and sway, like a reed. Her faco was indescribable.. The features were regular, and very beautiful, in spite of tho traces of suffering,.stamped upon them. Tho brow was broad, tho cheeks somewhat sunken but perfect in outline, as also wore tho do* licate nose and chin. Tho mouth, slightly apart, showing tho gleam of he* teeth, and tho eyes, wide aud, shining, were as dark as night. Over all waa spread a pallor so great that the face shone in tho gloom like white marble. AVhilo they watched her she suddenly extended her arms, and, in a.voica that thrilled clean- and sweet through tho clanging wind and -no roar of Bin Buchan —a voice vibrating with unutterable longing and tenderness, called aloud—

■ “Willio, Willie ; are yo cornin’ ? Win< na yo come hame, Willie—wiuna ya, como hame? It’s dark, an’ cauld, an' lonely—a’body’s gone frae me noo, since ye gaed to sea—nobody cares for me noo, Willie—me that ye held on your breast an' called your wife, your bonnie lassie. Oh, Willie, oomo hame l —come hame—come hame.” Ho pen could describe the intensity of love and sorrow that rang through the closing words. Freeman felt his heart ache as ho listened. Again tho blue lance of the lightning flashed along tho sky. Mysie’s eyes lifted for a moment, then -with bent head she stood listening, A savage gust rushed by. bringing with it a louder roar from Birs Buclia®, Sho started, and, with a quick scream, sprang forward as though to throw herself from the cliff. Freeman uttered a cry of horror, and, bounding towards her, caught her os the very edge of the height. She turned on him shrieking, and an instant later they were struggling madly within a foot of the sheer descent to the abyss below. (To bo Continued.)