In the meantime, Kittlestonheugh, as, according to the Scottish
fashion, we should denominate Squire Walkinshaw, had proceeded to
Camrachle, where he arrived at his sister-in-law’s door just as Mrs.
Eadie was taking her leave, with the intention of writing to her
relation Mr. Frazer in behalf of James. As the carriage drove up, Mrs.
Charles, on seeing it approach, begged her to stop; but, upon second
thoughts, it was considered better that she should not remain, and also
that she should defer her letter to Glengael until after the interview.
She was accordingly at the door when the Laird alighted, who, being but
slightly acquainted with her, only bowed, and was passing on without
speaking into the house, when she arrested him by one of her keen and
supreme looks, of which few could withstand the searching brightness.
‘Mr. Walkinshaw,’ said she, after eyeing him inquisitively for two or
three seconds, ‘before you go to Mrs. Charles, I would speak with you.’
It would not be easy to explain the reason which induced Mrs. Eadie so
suddenly to determine on interfering, especially after what had just
passed; but still, as she did so, we are bound, without investigating
her motives too curiously, to relate the sequel.
Mr. Walkinshaw bowed, thereby intimating his acquiescence; and she
walked on towards the manse with slow steps and a majestic attitude,
followed by the visitor in silence. But she had not advanced above four
or five paces, when she turned round, and touching him emphatically on
the arm, said,--
‘Let us not disturb the minister, but go into the churchyard; we can
converse there--the dead are fit witnesses to what I have to say.’
Notwithstanding all his worldliness, there was something so striking
in her august air, the impressive melancholy of her countenance, and
the solemn Siddonian grandeur of her voice, that Kittlestonheugh was
awed, and could only at the moment again intimate his acquiescence by
a profound bow. She then proceeded with her wonted dignity towards the
churchyard, and entering the stile which opened into it, she walked on
to the south side of the church. The sun by this time had exhaled away
the morning mists, and was shining brightly on the venerable edifice,
and on the humble tombs and frail memorials erected nigh.
‘Here,’ said she, stopping when they had reached the small turfless
space which the feet of the rustic Sabbath pilgrims had trodden bare in
front of the southern door,--‘Here let us stop--the sun shines warmly
here, and the church will shelter us from the cold north-east wind. Mr.
Walkinshaw, I am glad that we have met, before you entered yon unhappy
house. The inmates are not in circumstances to contend with adversity:
your sister loves her children too well not to wish that her son may
obtain the great advantages which your proposal to him holds out; and
he has too kind and generous a heart, not to go far, and willingly to
sacrifice much on her account. You have it therefore in your power to
make a family, which has hitherto known little else but misfortune,
miserable or happy.’
‘It cannot, I hope, madam,’ was his reply, ‘be thought of me, that I
should not desire greatly to make them happy.--Since you are acquainted
with what has taken place, you will do me the justice to admit, that
I could do nothing more expressive of the regard I entertain for my
nephew, and of the esteem in which I hold his mother, than by offering
him my only child in marriage, and with such a dowry, too, as no one in
his situation could almost presume to expect.’
Mrs. Eadie did not make any immediate answer, but again fixed her
bright and penetrating eye for a few seconds so intensely on his
countenance, that he turned aside from its irresistible ray.
‘What you say, sir, sounds well; but if, in seeking to confer that
benefit, you mar for ever the happiness you wish to make, and know
before that such must be the consequence, some other reason than either
regard for your nephew, or esteem for his mother, must be the actuating
spring that urges you to persevere.’
Firm of purpose, and fortified in resolution, as Kittlestonheugh was,
something both in the tone and the substance of this speech made him
thrill from head to foot.
‘What other motive than my affection can I have?’ said he.
‘Interest,’ replied Mrs. Eadie, with a look that withered him to the
heart,--‘Interest; nothing else ever made a man force those to be
unhappy whom he professed to love.’
‘I am sorry, madam, that you think so ill of me,’ was his reply,
expressed coldly and haughtily.
‘I did not wish you to come here, that we should enter into any debate;
but only to entreat that you will not press your wish for the marriage
too urgently; because, out of the love and reverence which your nephew
has for his mother, I fear he may be worked on to comply.’
‘Fear! Madam--I cannot understand your meaning.’
The glance that Mrs. Eadie darted at these words convinced him it was
in vain to equivocate with her.
‘Mr. Walkinshaw,’ said she, after another long pause, and a keen and
suspicious scrutiny of his face--‘it has always been reported, that
some of my mother’s family possessed the gift of a discerning spirit.
This morning, when I saw you alight from your carriage, I felt as if
the mantle of my ancestors had fallen upon me. It is a hallowed and
oracular inheritance; and, under its mysterious inspirations, I dare
not disguise what I feel.--You have come to-day----’
‘Really, madam,’ interrupted the merchant testily, ‘I come for
some better purpose than to listen to Highland stories about the
second-sight. I must wish you good morning.’
In saying this, he turned round, and was moving to go away, when the
lady, throwing back her shawl, magnificently raised her hand, and took
hold of him by the arm--
‘Stop, Mr. Walkinshaw, this is a place of truth--There is no deceit
in death and the grave--Life and the living may impose upon us; but
here, where we stand, among the sincere--the dead--I tell you, and
your heart, sir, knows that what I tell you is true, there is no
affection--no love for your nephew--nor respect for his mother, in the
undivulged motives of that seeming kindness with which you are, shall I
say plainly, seeking their ruin?’
The impassioned gestures and the suppressed energy with which this was
said, gave an awful and mysterious effect to expressions that were in
themselves simple, in so much that the astonished man of the world
regarded her, for some time, with a mingled sentiment of wonder and
awe. At last he said, with a sneer,--
‘Upon my word, Mrs. Eadie, the minister himself could hardly preach
with more eloquence. It is a long time since I have been so lectured;
and I should like to know by what authority I am so brought to book?’
The sarcastic tone in which this was said provoked the pride and
Highland blood of the lady, who, stepping back, and raising her right
arm with a towering grandeur, shook it over him as she said,--
‘I have no more to say;--the fate of the blood of Glengael is twined
and twisted with the destiny of Mrs. Charles Walkinshaw’s family; but
at your dying hour you will remember what I have said, and, trembling,
think of this place--of these tombs, these doors that lead into the
judgement-chamber of Heaven, and of yon sun, that is the eye of the
Almighty’s chief sentinel over man.’
She then dropped her hand, and, walking slowly past him, went straight
towards the manse, the door of which she had almost reached before
he recovered himself from the amazement and apprehension with which
he followed her with his eye. His feelings, however, he soon so
far mastered in outward appearance, that he even assumed an air of
ineffable contempt; but, nevertheless, an impression had been so
stamped by her mystery and menace, that, in returning towards the
dwelling of Mrs. Charles, he gradually fell into a moody state of
thoughtfulness and abstraction.