SUSPENSE
All crowded into the hall, where Mr. Stewart was standing with an open
telegram in his hand.
The laird was looking very grave.
'Most unfortunate,' he said. 'Neil has done a very foolish thing. He
has broken out of the County Gaol and disappeared. I regret extremely
that it should have happened. It will prejudice many people against
him.'
Mrs. Stewart was looking extremely concerned; and the young people
crowded together in speechless dismay.
'Puir Neil,' said Duncan in the background, 'he said he would not go to
Edinburgh to pring disgrace on his family whateffer.'
'He would have done far better to have gone up for his trial,' said Mr.
Stewart.--'Good morning, Dr. MacGregor'--for the doctor had come in to
hear the news, having been summoned from a visit in the
neighbourhood--'unfortunate affair this; it's a pity Neil couldn't have
been more patient.'
The doctor read the telegram and looked extremely disappointed.
'Foolish fellow!' he exclaimed. 'If the lad was innocent he should
have stayed to see the thing out; he has only made things a dozen times
worse for himself by doing this.'
'But, Father,' said Marjorie, 'Neil couldn't have taken the letters;
they are sure to find out that he is innocent.'
The doctor was looking angry.
'He has made it far more difficult for his friends to see him through,'
he declared. 'Foolish, foolish lad; I have no patience with him;' and
the doctor strode out of the hall and away to his gig with a
disappointed expression of countenance.
Mrs. Stewart looked kindly at the dismayed faces of the young people.
'I am sure,' she said, 'that Neil did not realise what he was doing,'
and here she looked at her husband; 'he was hurt and disappointed at
finding that some of the people were able to believe that he could have
done such a thing, and that made him think that he might not get
justice. It is a great pity, but those who have known Neil all his
life would never believe him capable of dishonesty.'
'Of course not,' said the laird kindly, 'and I only regret that Neil
did not wait to see the thing out, as I am convinced that some evidence
would have turned up which would have {74} enabled us to prove his
innocence. As it is, he remains under a cloud, and it will be a great
grief to his mother.'
The young people went out, feeling very much discouraged, and wandered
down to the seashore, Laddie following with drooping ears and tail.
Mechanically they seated themselves upon the beach to discuss the
position of affairs, but no one seemed to have anything to suggest.
'Well,' said Marjorie at last, digging holes in the sand with a
sharp-pointed shell; 'what are we to do now?'
Allan pushed his cap on to the back of his head, and Reggie looked
thoughtful; but they did not reply.
It was a beautiful morning, and the distant hills showed the first
flush of heather where the light fell upon them. Right in front the
waves were glancing like silver, and beyond the ripples the island of
the Den stood out invitingly clear.
Tricksy, who had been gazing wistfully across the water, suddenly
melted into tears.
'All our fun spoilt,' she said, with the big drops rolling down her
face; 'what a horrid, horrid summer we are going to have, and poor
Neil----
'Buck up, Tricksy,' said Allan; 'the bottom hasn't tumbled out of the
Universe yet.'
Laddie, who had been looking with a concerned expression at his young
friends, rose up and thrust his nose under Tricksy's hand, wagging his
tail in an encouraging manner.
'Good old dog, good Laddie,' said Allan, patting the dog's rough coat;
'he is telling us that we must not give in.'
Laddie pricked up his ears, and went from one to another of the group,
endeavouring to rouse them from their despondency.
'Poor Laddie, good Laddie,' said Marjorie, caressing him and feeling a
lump in her throat.
'Laddie, dear, don't lick me in the face--you're knocking me over,
Laddie!' cried Tricksy, as her big pet became more demonstrative.
When Laddie had been induced to sit down, which he did with the
expression of a dog convinced that his endeavours had been crowned with
success, Allan resumed: 'Well, we must remember that we've made a
compact, and we've got to stick to it and help Neil somehow, although
it looks pretty difficult at present.'
A murmur of approval went round the group.
'Yes,' said Tricksy, sitting with knitted brows; 'but we don't seem to
be doing anything.'
The others were silent.
'What would you have us do, Tricksy?' inquired Allan.
'Do? I'd do something.'
'Well?'
Tricksy's face puckered again.
'I'd catch some of the people.'
'Well, Tricksy, and how?'
'I'd dig holes for them to fall into.'
Reggie uttered a contemptuous 'humph.'
'You'd dig holes for them, would you, Tricksy, said Allan; 'how could
you tell whether you had caught the right one?'
'I'd catch them all until I came to the right one. I'd make them tell
me what they'd been doing, and then let the wrong one go.'
No one had any reply to make.
Tricksy looked extremely mortified.
'Well, anyhow,' said Allan, springing to his feet, 'we aren't doing
Neil any good by sitting here; let's go to Rob MacLean's cottage and
see whether he can help us.'
Rob MacLean was Neil's second cousin, and the proposition met with
approval.
The short, black-haired Highlander was working in his garden, and came
forward to greet his visitors with true Gaelic courtesy.
'How do you do, young ladies and gentlemen?' he said; 'it iss ferry
proud to see you that I am. Come in, and it is ferry pleased that
Mistress MacLean will pe.'
In the dark, smoky hut the party were accommodated with seats, and Mrs.
MacLean went to fetch milk and oat-cakes according to Highland ideas of
hospitality.
'You will pe out early,' said Rob MacLean. 'Ferry fine day this, and
exercise iss good for the health.'
'Yes, Mr. MacLean,' said Allan abruptly; 'we came to speak to you about
Neil.'
Instantly the Highlander's countenance underwent a change.
'You hev?' he said. 'Poor Neil, it iss a ferry bad business whateffer;
a ferry bad business for the puir lad.'
'Yes,' replied Allan, 'of course we don't believe that Neil had
anything to do with robbing the post-office.'
'That iss right, Master Allan; that is right,' said the Highlander.
'No, puir lad; no one who will pe knowing him will hev been pelieving
that of him; and it wass ferry hard that efferything went against him
at the trial, whateffer.'
'Well, Mr. MacLean, we came to see whether you could help us,' said
Allan; 'we have made a compact, and promised not to rest until we have
found out that Neil didn't really do it, and have him brought home
again.'
'Proud to hear you say so, Mr. Allan;' broke out the Highlander; 'and
hev you ahl made a compact, the young ladies too?'
'Yes,' replied Tricksy, dimpling; 'we are all in it; Marjorie and I,
and even Laddie.--Down, Laddie; don't jump up on me,' as the collie,
who had been sitting with an amiable expression in the centre of the
group, sprang up and put one paw on her knee.
'Ferry proud indeed that you should hev done so,' repeated Mr.
MacLean.--'My tear,' he added, turning to his wife, who had re-entered
the cottage with a pitcher of milk; 'these young ladies and gentlemen
will hev been making a compact that they will help Neil, and prove that
he hass not committed the robbery.'
The woman, who knew very little English, replied in Gaelic, and the
young folk took up that language, somewhat to the relief of MacLean,
who prided himself on his knowledge of the Saxon tongue but found it
easier to sustain a conversation in his own.
'That would be a great comfort to Neil, did he only know of it, and to
his mother too,' he said. 'Poor lad, I wish we could send him a
message.'
'Does any one know where he has gone?' inquired Reggie.
'Some one must know, Master Reggie, since he could hardly have got
clear away without help; but we do not know how he managed his escape.
Some say that he went away with the gipsies that left Inchkerra the day
of the trial, for they put in at Stornwell harbour that same night; and
others think that it was smugglers who helped him. He will no doubt
try to escape to America; but the poor lad stands a thousand chances of
being caught before he gets there.'
'Oh, I hope not,' cried the girls.
'I don't know, young ladies. If there was any chance of his being
cleared, it might be better for him to stand his trial. It is a very
strange thing indeed, how everything seemed to point to his being
guilty.'
'Then do you think some one has been trying to make him appear so?'
'I don't know, Master Reggie. It is very mysterious indeed who can
have done it. The police made an inspection of the gipsy camp, but
there seemed to be no evidence against them. Well, we are all very
pleased that you are so kindly disposed towards Neil, and we can only
hope that you or some one else may be able to find out who really did
it. If you must go, young ladies and gentlemen, will you not look in
at Mrs. Macdonnell's cottage and tell her that you have resolved to
help Neil? Poor soul, she is very sorrowful, and it might comfort her
to know what true friends her son has.'
'Do you think she would care to be disturbed to-day?' said Marjorie,
somewhat doubtfully.
'I think she would be very glad to see you, Miss Marjorie, when you
come on such an errand.'
Mrs. MacLean said nothing; but she filled the young people's pockets
with oat-cakes, and stood watching them as they walked soberly along
the path.
'It's too late to go to Mrs. Macdonnell before dinner-time,' said
Allan, who seemed to be glad of an excuse to postpone so trying an
interview. 'You'd better come with us, Hamish and Marjorie; it's
half-past twelve now; much too late for you to go home.'
Places were found for the MacGregors at the hospitable table of
Ardnavoir; and after dinner, Tricksy drew her mother aside, while
Marjorie lingered to hear what Mrs. Stewart would say.
'Mummie,' said Tricksy, 'Rob MacLean wants us to go and see Mrs.
Macdonnell and tell her that we don't believe that Neil stole the
letters. Do you think we can go?'
'Perhaps you might, as Rob wishes you to do so,' replied her mother.
'Don't stay long, and don't talk much, for, poor woman, this has been a
terrible blow to her. Give her your message, and then say good-bye.'
'Do you think we need to go too?' said Allan, as the young people were
discussing their intention.
'Of course we must all be there,' declared Marjorie; 'it will encourage
her when she sees that we have all joined the compact.'
'Whatever are you doing that for?' asked Allan, when he saw his little
sister gathering flowers in the garden.
'They are for Mrs. Macdonnell,' said Tricksy, looking up with her soft,
dark eyes; 'I think she would be glad if we brought her some.'
Allan said nothing, and Reggie's dark face looked approving.
A walk of a mile or two brought the young folk to the heather-roofed
cottage where Mrs. Macdonnell lived. A dog rushed out and barked, but
wagged his tail when he saw who the visitors were.
'Neil's dog,' said Allan; 'look how he speaks to Laddie. Poor Jock;
poor old fellow; come here.'
'Where's your master, Jock; where's Neil?' said Reggie in a low voice,
as the dog came up to be petted.
They knocked at the outer door, but there was no answer. After a
moment's hesitation, they pushed it open and knocked at the door of the
kitchen.
'Come in,' said a faint voice; and they entered.
A woman was sitting by the peat fire, with her neglected spinning-wheel
beside her. She was strikingly handsome, in spite of her mournful
expression and dejected attitude. Her black hair, as yet only slightly
touched with grey waved on either side of a broad low forehead, and she
had a straight nose like Neil's and a beautifully shaped face; but the
eyes which she raised at the children's entrance were full of sorrow.
The boys hung about the doorway, and Marjorie felt a lump in her
throat; but Tricksy advanced courageously.
'How do you do, Mrs. Macdonnell?' she said, with a little gurgle in her
voice, that expressed more than she had the power to say in words.
'Mother said we might come and see you; and we thought you might like
some flowers.'
'Eh, Miss Tricksy, what a pretty posy! It wass ferry good of you to
come. Tek a seat, Miss Marjorie. Will you be finding places, young
gentlemen?'
'I hope you are pretty well, Mrs. Macdonnell?' said Marjorie, in a
voice which she could not keep from trembling a little.
'Pretty fair, thank you, Miss Marjorie,' replied Mrs. Macdonnell, while
Reggie and Hamish sat very stiffly upon their chairs, and Allan had
much ado to keep from fidgeting.
'We thought you would like to know, Mrs. Macdonnell,' began Tricksy;
'Bob MacLean said we might tell you; we wanted to say--Allan does, and
we all do--that we _know_ Neil couldn't have done such a thing, and we
have made a compact, all of us--Marjorie and Hamish and Euan Macdonnell
too--that we will never rest until we find out that he didn't do it,
and bring him home again. I thought you would be glad, Mrs.
Macdonnell; for Allan and Hamish are going to try very hard, and Euan
will do his best to help us.'
Mrs. Macdonnell's eyes glistened.
'It iss ferry good of you ahl, I am sure,' she said; then after a pause
she added, 'Indeed it is proud I am to know that my puir laddie----'
Her voice became husky and then failed; and feeling that the interview
had lasted long enough, the girls kissed her and they all took leave,
wondering whether they had done harm or good by their visit.
'One thing we might do,' said Allan, after they had trudged for awhile
in a somewhat uncomfortable silence, 'we might take a look at Andrew
MacPeters.'
'Yes, let's get something done,' said Reggie; 'where do you think we
shall find him?'
'I heard that he was cutting peats on the hillside,' said Allan; 'isn't
that a cart over there, and two men stacking peats?'
'Yes, that is Andrew MacPeters,' said Reggie, when they had advanced a
little nearer; 'the red-headed man on this side.'
'Fine day, young ladies and gentlemen,' said the farther-away man; but
Andrew only gave them a sidelong look out of his red-lidded eyes.
'Fine day,' replied Allan civilly; then they all stood still and looked
at Andrew, who went on stolidly with his work.
'Let's come to the post-office now,' said Allan, and they all trudged
away.
'Eh, young ladies and gentlemen, pleased to see you,' said Mrs.
MacAlister in her lilting Gaelic; 'eh, but it's been a weary business
since you were here last! Poor Neil, poor laddie!'
'Yes, Mrs. MacAlister,' said Marjorie; 'and of course we are all quite
sure that Neil had nothing to do with it.'
'So are we all, Miss Marjorie; but the hard thing is to prove it.
Things looked very black against him when the order came out of the
poor lad's very letter, and he the only person who had been in the
house that night. Wait a bit, young ladies and gentlemen, and I'll
fetch my husband; he's been bad with the rheumatism but he's working in
the garden now,' and the good woman departed, leaving the field clear
for the young people.
'Look,' said Allan, 'there are the letters lying on the table. They've
been taken out of the box, and they're waiting now until Mrs.
MacAlister is ready to stamp them. The door's open, and any one can
come in and out. It wouldn't be difficult to rob a post-office like
this!'
Just then the door opened, and Andrew MacPeters came slouching in,
looking very awkward when he saw who were in the shop. The visitors
all watched him as he made his way clumsily across the room to fetch
something that he wanted; and when he came near the table Reggie said
suddenly, 'Been taking anything from here lately, Andrew?'
The man looked at him with a surly gleam in his eyes but did not
answer. After a minute or two he went out, all eyes following him
curiously.
'There,' said Reggie triumphantly, 'did you see what a bad conscience
he has?' and they all looked at each other in silent assent.
Declining Mrs. MacAlister's invitation to stay to tea, they trooped out
of the post-office.
'We'll watch that man,' said Reggie, and Tricksy began to walk on the
tips of her toes in anticipation.
'Hulloa, young people, glad I've overtaken you,' said the doctor's
voice behind them. 'It's just going to pour with rain, and you're due
at my house to tea, I believe. It's lucky I have the closed carriage;
jump in as many of you as it will hold, and the rest of you can sit on
the box.'
By the time the doctor's house was reached the rain had stopped, and
the sun was peeping out again. A scrap of white paper fluttering on
the ruins attracted Reggie's attention, and he ran across the garden,
climbed the wall, and captured it.
After looking at it he gave a violent start, then ran towards the house.
'It's a postal order,' he said, giving it to the doctor; 'what's the
meaning of this?'
All clustered round, and the doctor took the piece of paper and
examined it.
'Strange thing,' he exclaimed; 'this order bears the number of one of
those that went missing on the night of the robbery. How did it come
there? It's wet with the rain, but not very dirty; probably hasn't
been there long. This ought to shed some fresh light upon the case.
I'll have the police to make a thorough search of the ruins.'