ARRIVAL OF SIR MARCUS--HILDA AND HER SISTER--A BRIG OF WAR APPEARS--
EDDA'S MARRIAGE--ROLF MORTON SAILS ON A LONG VOYAGE.
For many days after the loss of her child, Hilda remained in a state of
such utter prostration, that Bertha, who would allow no one but herself
to watch her, often dreaded that her mind would go altogether.
"Perhaps she would be happier thus unconscious of past griefs, or of the
dreary future in store for her," Bertha frequently repeated to herself;
but Hilda was not thus to be spared the trials and sorrows sent to
purify and correct her nature. Not only did she become fully aware of
all that had taken place, but she was made fully alive to events daily
occurring, and was able to contemplate what the future might bring
forth. On what account her son was carried off, she could form no
conjecture, but she always cherished the hope of seeing him again. This
hope occupied her thoughts by day and her dreams by night, and appeared
to be the chief means of her restoration to comparative health. At
first she could not bear the sight of her child's playmate, Ronald
Morton; but one day she suddenly desired Bertha to bring him to her, and
after gazing at him for some moments, she covered him with kisses, and
from that moment could scarcely bear him out of her sight. At first the
child cried, and evidently regarded her with dread; but Bertha soothed
him, and persuaded him to go back to her; and Hilda, by gentle caresses,
which seemed totally foreign to her nature, soon won him over
completely, so that he quickly learned to look on her as really his
mother. His father had sailed, at the commencement of the year, for
Greenland, and there was no probability of his returning till the
autumn.
In spite of the exciting incidents which had occurred, matters at
Lunnasting returned very much to their usual condition. Even poor
Lawrence Brindister, who had behaved with courage and a considerable
amount of judgment when the castle was attacked, very speedily again
became the half-witted creature he generally appeared, and once more
resumed his eccentric habits and behaviour.
Sir Marcus had before this again put off the time for his return home;
but at length a large cutter--a Leith smack--was seen standing towards
the castle. She dropped her anchor at the entrance of Lunnasting Voe,
and a boat containing a lady and gentleman immediately put off from her,
and pulled for the landing-place. Hilda soon recognised her father and
sister. As she saw them, she felt every nerve in her system trembling
with agitation. Bertha entreated her to be calm, and at last, by a
violent effort, she gained sufficient command over herself to hurry down
to the landing-place to meet them. Her father met her with his usual
polite, but cold and indifferent manner; but Edda herself, blooming with
life and health, looked deeply concerned when she saw her altered
appearance, for physical suffering and mental anxiety had made sad havoc
with those features. Sir Marcus had now to learn, for the first time,
of the piratical attack which had been made on his castle, and of the
severe loss he had suffered. Every one was anxious to screen Hilda; and
probably, had it not been necessary to account to him for the
disappearance of so many articles of property, even that event would not
have been told him. Of all others, he was allowed to remain perfectly
ignorant.
Thus, strange as it may appear, he heard nothing of the circumstances of
the visit of the "Saint Cecilia," of Hilda's marriage with Don Hernan,
or of the birth of her child. All he heard was, that a foreign
ship-of-war had anchored in the Sound, and that, shortly after, she had
been wrecked on the west coast of the mainland; so sure are those who
attempt to rule their dependents with severity or injustice, to be
deceived or misled by them.
Humbled, softened, and weighed down with grief, Hilda could not long
keep her secret from her sister; and Edda heard, with amazement and
sorrow, all the strange events which had occurred at Lunnasting during
her absence. Once having broken through the ice of reserve which had so
long existed, the two sisters were on far more affectionate terms than
they had ever before been.
Edda did not utter a word of blame. She well knew how little trained
Hilda had ever been to bear it, but she gave her sympathy, and treated
her with all the tenderness and affection of a loving sister.
Meantime, Sir Marcus Wardhill, who was not a man to suffer an injury
without attempting to obtain redress, was sending memorial after
memorial to the government in England, to complain of the attack made on
his castle, and was also instituting every inquiry to ascertain to what
nation the people belonged who had been guilty of the act. All he could
learn with regard to the latter point was, that on the day following
that on which it occurred, a pilot boat and several fishing vessels had
fallen in with a large schooner of a very rakish appearance, under
French colours, steering a course apparently with the intention of
running between Shetland and Orkney, into the Atlantic.
In the course, however, of his inquiries, information which he little
expected came out, and which could not fail to raise his suspicions as
to his daughter's discretion. He was, as has been seen, a man wise in
the ways of the world, and not at all liable to give way to sudden
bursts of temper, great as might be the provocation. Instead,
therefore, of rushing into his daughter's room, and accusing her of her
misconduct, he kept his counsel, and said nothing whatever on the
subject. It might have occurred to him that he should have been wiser
had he remained at home, and looked more narrowly after his
establishment. He found that he had been deceived--of that there could
be no doubt. Information which he naturally expected would have been
given to him had been withheld. He knew that this being the case, he
was not likely to force it out of his dependents. He went on,
therefore, quietly making inquiries, now of one, now of the other, and
though he did not gain the whole truth, he ascertained enough to assure
him that it would be wiser not to push his inquiries much further. Had
he become aware of the exact state of the case, he would have
undoubtedly been far more satisfied than he was; but cunning men are
often caught in their own snares, and miss the mark at which they are
aiming.
It was remarked that, after a time, he took far more interest in little
Ronald Morton than he had at first done, and seemed not at all surprised
at finding the child so constantly with his daughter. He even made some
attempts to play with it, but they were not very successful, and the
little fellow invariably made his escape from him as soon as he could.
The time fixed for Edda's marriage had now arrived, and Colonel Armytage
was daily expected. Sir Marcus mentioning this to Hilda, remarked, "You
will let that child remain with Bertha Eswick while Armytage is here. I
do not object to your petting him, but it is fit that you should pay all
the attention in your power to your intended brother-in-law."
There might have been far more order and regularity in the castle after
the master's return, but everybody felt an uncomfortable sensation of
oppression whenever he was present. The only sun which shed any light
through the surrounding atmosphere was his daughter Edda. Full of life
and animation, nothing could quell her spirits, and in most cases she
had only to appear to dispel the gloom.
Poor Lawrence, even more than any one else, felt the weight of his
guardian's presence whenever he was compelled to remain at home; but he
had the resource--of which he never failed to avail himself when the
weather allowed him--of going out in his boat, of wandering about the
island on Neogle, with Surly Grind, or of visiting his cavern. Sir
Marcus had gained that influence over him which a man of strong mind
usually obtains over one of weak intellect, and he was thus often able
to make him say the very things which he purposely intended to keep
secret. Still Lawrence did not tell him the whole truth, and often thus
misled him more than if he had not said a word on the subject. Often,
too, he would startle him as he walked away by breaking out, as if
unconsciously, with "The prince will hae his ain again! The prince will
hae his ain again!"
"What do you mean by that, Lawrence?" exclaimed the baronet, one day,
with greater agitation than he usually exhibited.
"The meaning, coz?" said Lawrence, turning round and looking at him
hard. "The true meaning is this: that the king of the land will some
day come back, and put his own crown of gold on his head, in spite of
the rebels and all the cunning men who try to keep him from it."
A very uncomfortable sensation crept round the baronet's heart.
Poor Lawrence went his way, rejoicing under the belief that he had
frightened the stern, dignified baronet out of his wits. He little
understood the tough materials of which his cousin's mind was composed,
or dreamed of the injury the hints he had thrown out would induce him to
work against those he might suppose stood in his way. At present it was
Sir Marcus's wish to keep everything as smooth and pleasant at
Lunnasting, that he might be able to give an agreeable welcome to his
intended son-in-law.
Colonel Armytage had written word that he had engaged the same cutter
which had carried Sir Marcus and his daughter to Shetland. It was very
natural, therefore, that Edda should very frequently have her eye at a
large telescope Sir Marcus had brought with him, and which he had placed
in Hilda's room at the top of the tower. One day, as she was looking
through the glass, she exclaimed suddenly to her sister, "Oh Hilda,
Hilda, there is the cutter at last!"
Hilda looked, but her more practised eye told her that it was no cutter,
but a square-rigged vessel, which, with a fair breeze, under all sail,
was approaching the island. She was sorry to disappoint Edda, and for
sometime she did not tell her of her mistake. She herself went several
times to the glass, and was convinced, from the squareness of the
vessel's yards and the whiteness of her canvas, that she was a
man-of-war. Painful feelings crowded to her heart, for the vessel
approaching reminded her strongly of the "Saint Cecilia:" she stood on
boldly, as if those on board were well acquainted with the coast, and in
a short time Hilda ascertained, without doubt, that she was a
brig-of-war. Poor Edda, with a sigh, discovered that she had been
mistaken.
The brig-of-war stood on towards Lunnasting till she neared the south
end of Eastling Island, when, as she hauled her wind to stand up the
Sound, Hilda saw with a thrill that the flag of Spain was flying from
her peak. She brought to, at the very spot at which the "Saint Cecilia"
had anchored. Before her sails were furled a boat was lowered, and
pulled towards the castle. Hilda watched it through the telescope, and,
as it passed under the walls, she recognised, in the officer who sat in
the stern-sheets, the first-lieutenant of the "Saint Cecilia," Pedro
Alvarez. Though eager to learn what cause had brought him to
Lunnasting, she was afraid of going down to meet him, lest it should
excite suspicion in her father's mind. Trembling with agitation, she
sat still, waiting for his appearance, with the hope, though it was full
of doubt, that he might bring her tidings of her son.
Meantime, Lawrence Brindister had espied him, and hurrying to the
landing-place, welcomed him cordially. "But I say, old friend," he
continued, holding his finger to his nose, "the cat has come back, and
the mice mustn't play any more; you understand--mum's the word; don't
talk of anything that has occurred: let old Grimalkin find out what he
can; I delight in teasing him."
Although the worthy Pedro did not comprehend all Lawrence said, he
understood that he was not to allude to past events in the presence of
the lord of the castle. Lawrence hurried him on, talking in his usual
rambling way, so that before he had time to make any inquiries, he found
himself in the presence of Sir Marcus Wardhill. The baronet received
him with all due courtesy, and he was invited to stop and dine at the
castle--an invitation he at once accepted. Hilda had no opportunity of
seeing him till they met before dinner. It was not even then, without
great exertion, that she obtained sufficient self-command to speak to
him with ordinary calmness.
During the meal little Ronald Morton toddled into the room, having
escaped from the arms of his nurse. Captain Alvarez gave an inquiring
glance at the child, and at first looked puzzled, and then well
satisfied. Hilda was able to converse with him in Spanish, and with his
broken English and French he managed to make himself very agreeable to
Sir Marcus and Edda; Sir Marcus, indeed, begged that when he could live
on shore that he would make his castle his home; he declined, on the
plea that he must sail, probably the next day, for the southward.
The attack on the castle had been spoken of, but not a word had been
said of the child having been carried off.
Hitherto Hilda had been unable to talk to the Spanish captain alone;
fortunately, at length, Sir Marcus left the room; Ronald was sitting
playing on the ground near them.
"He is truly a noble child, though his complexion shows more of his
northern than his southern blood," observed the captain.
"That child!--oh, you are mistaken!" exclaimed Hilda, "Have you not
heard that my own Hernan was carried off?" And she told him all that
had occurred.
"The atrocious scoundrel!" exclaimed Pedro Alvarez; "I feared it would
be so, and for your sake, lady, and for that of my late brave captain, I
will pursue them round the world, and recover the boy."