On a certain morning, not long after her first appearance before the
magistrate, Elsie was once more brought into court. She had hailed the
appearance of her old acquaintance with something approaching delight,
for any change was a welcome one from the hard, dreary, monotonous life
she had been leading in the wards of the workhouse.
"Do you know anything about Duncan?" she asked, eagerly. "Did they
really take him to the hospital? she didn't turn him into the streets,
did she? Oh! I have been so frightened about it. They said they didn't
know anything about it in there. You know, don't you?"
"Yes, I know," the man said, gravely.
Elsie looked up in his face questioningly. It was very grave. "Is he--is
he--dead?" she gasped.
"Not as far as I know," the man replied; "and he did go into the
hospital right enough; but he was as near dead as possible when your
mother found him there. I don't think it's certain now whether he'll
recover."
"Mother found him!" Elsie cried. "Then--then she knows where we are?"
"Yes, she knows," the man replied.
Elsie involuntarily drew a long sigh of relief. It was only afterwards
that she began to be worried with doubts as to what her mother would say
or do. In that first moment her first instinct was that being found by
her mother was the end of all trouble, and that was, no doubt, a true
and natural instinct.
But the after feeling of fear and doubt soon came to cloud Elsie's joy
at what seemed such good news. How glad she would be once more to be
back in the clean, sweet cottage on her native moor. She had thought
that life hard, and so wanted to be a little lady, but it was a perfect
paradise compared with her present life; and as for care, which is the
greatest enemy to happiness that we can have, she had not known what it
meant before she ran away. Food and clothes, and warm, comfortable
shelter, were all hers without a thought on her part, and yet she had
been so discontented and cross and disagreeable to everybody because she
had not dainty food and nothing to do. But she had found out what it
felt like to be without a home or a friend, with coarse food, and
nothing but harsh words; and she had been continually told that that was
far more than she deserved, and was given to her only out of charity,
for which she ought to be most grateful.
If only Mrs. MacDougall would let her go home and things be the same as
before, she would never be discontented or ungrateful any more, but she
could hardly believe that she would ever get back again to that old
happy life.
And Duncan? He might die! Then it would never be the same again. Dear
little Duncan, who did not want to come away, and had always been
contented, but would not forsake his sister. But for her he would be
well and happy now, whereas everything was dreadful and wretched. It was
quite certain it could never come right. If only she had known
beforehand? It seemed so easy and so nice. Was it her fault that things
had turned out so different? Was she to blame for not knowing?
In this way she tried to find some excuse and consolation where there
was indeed little enough, falling back on the idle excuses people so
frequently make. How many people ask "Was it my fault that I did not
know?" when that was not at all where the fault lay.
At last the court was reached. Elsie was taken into a small room, where
she had to wait some time, and had plenty of time for reflection. She
grew very nervous and frightened, and began to wonder whether they had
sent for her to punish her, whether the white-haired gentleman thought
she had told stories, and was going to send her to prison. Yet the
officer had seemed kind, and they had promised her that by-and-by she
should be allowed to go home. Could she have told a story without
knowing it? She tried to think over all she had said. Suddenly it came
into her head that perhaps this clever, wise gentleman knew that her
name was not MacDougall, but Grosvenor, and would punish her for that.
What ought she to have said? She puzzled and puzzled over it till she
grew quite stupid and bewildered.
By-and-by the officer who had brought her took her hand and led her
forward. As she entered the great room in which she had been once
before, she noticed that it was thronged with people. She was presently
placed in a small, square, box-like place, reminding her a little of the
pews in the kirk. Before her she soon detected the old gentleman who had
questioned her, but there were several others seated near him. Turning
her head slightly, her eyes fell with fright and dismay on the figures
of the "fairy mother" and a man, who was neither Uncle William nor
Grandpapa Donaldson, yet reminded her of both.
They were looking at her, and Elsie saw something in their faces that
made her tremble. Yet she could not turn her eyes away till the "fairy
mother" dropped hers, and with a heavy sigh made a little movement, as
if to hide from herself the sight of her ungrateful child.
Then Elsie caught sight of another face: she recognised the man Andrew.
There were others whose faces she did not know.
The Bible was handed her, and again she had to repeat the words of the
solemn oath. Again the old gentleman leaned forward and asked her if she
knew what an oath was, repeating his solemn warning. Then came the
question, "What is your name?"
"Please, sir, I don't know," Elsie faltered, bursting into tears.
"The child is just dazed, your honour!" cried a voice from the crowd,
which rang strangely in Elsie's ears, but the venturesome individual was
silenced immediately.
"You told us the other day," the old gentleman said kindly. "You have
only to tell the truth, then you need not be frightened."
"I'm afraid it was a story," Elsie exclaimed. And the "fairy mother"
looked round anxiously. "I don't know whether my name is Elsie
MacDougall or Elsie Grosvenor, because I am not sure whether Mrs.
MacDougall was our mother or whether Aunt Nannie was."
Again a voice cried out something from the crowd, but Elsie did not
catch the words. The person was warned that she would be removed if she
interrupted again, and the gentleman continued.
"We will take your name as Elsie MacDougall. Is it true that you ran
away from your home on a certain Wednesday?"
Elsie replied that she had done so, and then she was asked a great many
questions, first about herself, then about the companions she had
travelled with, which it would take far too much room to write down. She
was terrified almost beyond measure at answering such inquiries with the
terrible "fairy mother" standing close by, especially when other
gentlemen began to ask her questions too in a sharp way that confused
and bewildered her. Every particular of her acquaintance with these
people was drawn from her, and a great deal of interest displayed in her
account of how she was separated from Duncan, and the description of
"Uncle William's" sudden change into "Grandpapa Donaldson."
"Now look well at this person. Have you ever seen him before?" the
magistrate asked, pointing to the man standing near Mrs. Donaldson.
Elsie replied that she had not but he seemed to remind her a little of
some one she had seen.
One of the gentlemen then held up a black wig, and whiskers, beard, and
moustache.
Elsie recognised them at once. "I know what that is like!" she
exclaimed, in great astonishment. "He had hair like that when he was
Uncle William."
Another wig was then held before Elsie's wondering eyes. This time it
was grey, with a small close-cut beard and whiskers, such as the old man
in the railway carriage wore.
They were handed in turn to the man standing by Mrs. Donaldson, with a
request that he would put them on. This, however, he indignantly
refused to do, but Elsie took a steady look, and felt sure that if he
had he would have looked exactly like Uncle William and Grandpapa
Donaldson.
The next astonishing thing shown her was a light grey coat, the exact
counterpart of the one worn by the gentleman in the carriage and Uncle
William. It was turned inside out, and behold, it became a completely
new overcoat of a drab colour, like the one worn by Grandpapa Donaldson.
So that was how he had changed himself so completely, by changing his
black hair for grey and turning his coat inside out. He must have done
it very quickly and quietly, while Mrs. Donaldson kept Elsie's eyes
fixed on her. He stoutly denied this, but it was very strange that the
black wig should have been discovered in a mysterious pocket of that
cleverly-made coat, and that Mrs. Donaldson's papa should be so vain as
to go about in a wig, and false whiskers, beard and moustache, because
he had none of his own--very strange indeed; and so the lawyers and
magistrates seemed to think it.
Elsie was very, very tired with the long examination she had to undergo.
All she could make out of it was that these people, whose real names
were John and Lucy Murdoch, were suspected of having stolen a great deal
of money from rich people. At last Elsie was told she might go, and the
officer of whom she had seen so much came forward to lead her away. As
she was passing out, who should she see coming towards her but Meg. She
lifted her eyes, and looked with a frightened glance at Elsie. Her eyes
were red, and she looked altogether most wretched and unhappy.
"I haven't told a word," Elsie couldn't help whispering as she passed
close by her; but Meg did not seem to hear, for she never raised her
head or even smiled.
Elsie wondered what they were going to do with her, and hoped she would
not get into any trouble. But she could not help thinking of her own
miseries. Now, she supposed, she must go back again to that dreadful
workhouse, with its harsh matron and dreadful companions, its misery,
discomfort, and loneliness. She could not help shuddering and gulping
back the sorrowful sobs that seemed to choke her. She was very tired and
down-hearted.
The man touched her on the arm. She lifted her eyes, and saw standing
close by, her mother, Mrs. MacDougall. In a moment Elsie flew towards
her with a cry of joy, exclaiming "Oh! take me home, mother; take me
away, please."
"I've got the discharge from the magistrate," Mrs. MacDougall explained.
"I applied for it this morning directly after the court was opened."
[Illustration: "IN A MOMENT ELSIE FLEW TOWARDS HER" (_p. 324_).]
"Quite right, ma'am," the man assented. Then turning to Elsie, he
exclaimed, "Now, my girl, you're free to go home with your mother; and
if you take my advice, you won't try running away again. You're just
fortunate to have got off as you have. If it hadn't been for our
tracking the Murdochs just when we did, there's no telling what would
have become of you. They are not the sort that would hesitate to get rid
of you in any way that came first when they found they didn't want you;
and all I say is you may be thankful you stand where you do at this
moment."
"You've just had a narrow escape of being drawn into a den of sin and
iniquity," Mrs. MacDougall added fervently, "and I'm right thankful to
the Almighty for the good care He's taken of you. I'm sure, sir, you're
very kind to this erring lass, and I'm right grateful for all your
goodness."
"Mother," Elsie faltered, hardly daring to frame the question, "where is
Duncan?"
"He's in the hospital yet," Mrs. MacDougall replied. "He lies in a fair
way to recover, if no ill turn befalls him, but I doubt me if he'll ever
be the same laddie again. He's woefully altered, but the Lord has been
good to him too, and put it into the heart of that poor body they call
Meg to take him to the hospital, though they had no intention for her to
do it. May she be rewarded for her charitable deed!"
At this moment the officer came back to say that a cab was ready to take
them to the station.
"And am I going with you now?" Elsie asked.
"Yes; we'll be getting back to Edinburgh to-night," Mrs. MacDougall
replied.
They bade the officer good-bye, and drove away. Elsie could hardly
believe that she was once more free and on her way home. The revulsion
of feeling was too much; she lay back in the carriage, and sobbed as if
her heart would break.
"I will no reproach you, Elsie," Mrs. MacDougall said, gently, "for I
ken you're punished enough, but it will do ye no harm to feel
sore-hearted for all the sorrow you've brought on yoursel and others."