There were two small open carriages prepared for the expedition. The
laird drove Mrs Maclean and Mrs Leslie in one, and Captain Vallery
took charge of his wife and children in the other.
After driving some way along the road, leaving the loch behind them they
mounted a hill, and to Fanny's surprise, she found that they were close
to Alec Morrison's cottage. The laird called him out.
"We are going to Glen Corpach, and as I am not sure whether we shall
find any one to row the boat there, I wish you would come with us."
Alec said he could not leave Robby.
"Bring him, then," said the laird. "You get up by the side of me, and
Robby can go in the other carriage with the children."
They stopped a few minutes while his grandfather helped Robby to put on
his best clothes. His toilet was quickly finished, and Alec lifted him
into the carriage with the children.
Fanny was very glad to see him, but Norman looked at him askance, as if
he was an intruder, and was afraid besides that he would ask after the
little bird. Fanny also was afraid that he might do so, and she was
very unwilling to have to tell him that it was dead. She therefore
talked to him about as many things as she could think of. She asked him
how Lory was, and if he had ever been in a carriage before? Robby
answered that Lory was very well, and that he had once been in a
carrier's cart, but that it did not move as fast as they were going, and
seemed highly delighted with the drive. The question both the children
dreaded came at last.
"Don't be teasing us by your questions, you stupid little fellow," said
Norman hastily, "I wonder you are not ashamed of your impudence."
Poor little Robby looked much abashed at this rebuke.
"I only asked after the young lady's bird," he said.
"Hold your tongue, you little monkey," cried Norman, giving him a kick,
"that's just what I don't choose you should talk about."
"Norman you should not treat Robby so," said Fanny becoming indignant.
"I am sorry to say, Robby, that the little birdie is dead. We did not
behave as kindly to it as you would have done."
"Oh dear! oh dear! how did it die?" asked Robby.
"Hold your tongue, I say," cried Norman giving him another kick, which
made Robby cry.
This attracted the attention of Mrs Vallery who was seated in front
with her husband.
"What is the matter, children?" she asked, looking round.
"Nothing at all, mamma, only the stupid child chooses to cry," answered
Norman. "Keep quiet you tiresome little brat."
"Oh, mamma, will you take Norman in front with you? He has hurt Robby,"
said Fanny.
"I won't go," answered Norman, "I like to stay where I am. You may take
the brat with you if you like, mamma."
"There is scarcely room for any one," said Mrs Vallery. "And I must
beg you children to be quiet. Fanny, you can keep them from
quarrelling, I should hope."
Poor Fanny would willingly have done so, for Norman was doing his best
to spoil the pleasure of her drive. She took Robby to sit beside her,
where Norman could not reach him without kicking her. He having vented
his anger, now remained quiet, only occasionally giving an angry look at
the poor little orphan.
Soon having crossed the level heath, they entered a narrow glen between
the mountains, which rose up on either side of them, here and there
covered with wood; in other places the cliffs were almost perpendicular,
while a stream rushed foaming and sparkling over its rocky sides close
to the road. As they advanced, the scenery became more wild and
picturesque. Fanny admired it much, for she had never been in so
romantic a country. Now they went up the steep side of a hill, from the
top of which could be seen range beyond range of mountains, with deep
valleys, patches of forest, wild rocks, and a narrow sheet of water
which shone in the bright sunlight, while here and there could be
distinguished a thin silvery line descending from a mountain height, and
winding along at the bottom of a valley.
"We are not far from Glen Corpach," shouted the laird, "and I see some
of our friends are making their way towards it."
He pointed to some patches which Fanny thought looked like ants, with a
black beetle in front of them, winding down the mountain.
Descending by a steep road, which compelled the laird and Captain
Vallery to put on their drags to prevent the carriages going down faster
than would have been pleasant, they found themselves by the side of a
narrow loch enclosed by mountains. They soon after, rounding a lofty
cliff, arrived at the entrance of the glen which they had come to visit.
On the shore of the loch was a small cottage where they found the cart
with the servants and provisions. They descended from the carriages,
and were joined by several of the laird's friends, who had arrived
before them. Fanny was pleased to find, as had been promised, some
companions of her own age, and several boys rather older than her
brother.
"I can get on very well with them," thought Norman, as he eyed them.
"They will be more fit companions than that stupid little Robby."
The party proceeded up the glen by the margin of a narrow deep stream.
So close were the two sides of the glen that the branches of the trees
which grew on them appeared almost to join overhead, and formed a thick
shade.
After proceeding some way, the glen again opened out, and they found
that they had reached the end of another loch, which extended as far as
the eye could reach, while their ears were saluted by the rushing and
roaring sound of a cataract which came from the heights above them, and
fell dashing and splashing over the rocks, now concealed by the thick
foliage now appearing full in view.
Stopping to admire the romantic scene--the calm loch, the murmuring
stream, the roaring waterfall, the wild rocks with trees growing amidst
them, and the lofty hills rising in many varied shapes on every side,
still higher peaks towering to the sky, the party began to ascend a path
which led to the spot where the picnic was to be held. It was a green
knoll on the mountain side, close to which an off-shoot of the great
waterfall bubbled and sparkled by, while the trees which grew on one
side afforded a sufficient shade from the sun's rays. The number of
rocks which had fallen from the mountains above supplied seats of every
shape, to suit the taste of those who chose to occupy them.
From the knoll a still better view than below, of the waterfall and the
surrounding scenery, was obtained, and everybody agreed that it was the
most perfect place for a picnic imaginable. Fanny and her young friends
were delighted, and while the servants brought up the hampers, and some
of the party were spreading the cloth, they employed themselves in
conveying jugs of water from the bright stream which flowed by.
As many of the party had come from a considerable distance, it was
settled that dinner should be the first thing attended to, though some
of the young ladies directly after their arrival had got out their
sketch-books, and would have preferred finishing their sketches first.
Fanny, who had observed the rapid way in which they conveyed the scenery
to their paper, wished that she could sketch also. Her granny promised
that she should have lessons as soon as she returned home.
"Oh, how much I shall like it, and I think I shall remember this scene
so well that I shall be able to put it down on paper as soon as I have
learned to draw," she exclaimed.
One of the young ladies lent her a book. To her surprise, by following
the guidance of her instructress, she found that she could already make
a sketch which would remind her of the scene.
The picnic dinner was exactly as Fanny had expected it to be. There was
the facetious old gentleman--a neighbouring laird noted for his jokes,--
and he did not fail to keep the company in fits of laughter, and there
were young ladies and young gentlemen and middle-aged gentlemen, who
told stories and sang songs.
The laird of Glen Tulloch had in the meantime despatched Alec Morrison
to bring down a boat which was kept further up the loch, that those of
the party who wished it might enjoy a row.
Norman and his young friends after eating as many of the good things as
they wanted, not caring for the jokes or the conversation, strolled away
to enjoy a scramble among the rocks. They were not observed, or they
would have been warned of the danger they were running.
Little Robby had been waiting patiently to obtain his share of the feast
with the servants. When he saw them go, he followed, for he had been
told by his grandfather to take care and not get among the slippery
rocks. Young as he was, it occurred to him that if it would be
dangerous for him, it would be equally so for the young gentlemen.
"What are you coming after us for, you little brat?" exclaimed Norman,
as turning round he caught sight of Robby. "Go back and stay with the
servants."
"Please, grandfather said any one going climbing among those rocks,
would run the chance of slipping and being carried into the loch,"
answered Robby, not feeling angry at the rude way Norman had spoken to
him.
"What is it to me what your grandfather says?" answered Norman, who
wished to show his independence before his older companions. "Don't you
be coming after us, we don't want your company."
"We had better take care where we go, though," observed one of the boys,
who was wiser than the rest.
"It would be an ugly thing to tumble into that boiling stream, and be
carried off to the loch."
"Oh, nonsense," exclaimed Norman, "I am not afraid, I am going to shoot
tigers when I go back to India. I shall have to go into wild places to
get at them. I have a fancy for climbing up those rocks to see how high
I can get. Who will follow?"
"Oh, do not go, do not go, young gentleman," cried Robby, who saw the
danger they were running. "You may slip and break your legs, or be
drowned if you fall into the water."
The boys disregarded his warnings, and Norman eager to show his bravery
began to climb the rocks. They made one ascent, and perhaps influenced
by Robby's warning, took sufficient care to escape an accident, and all
descended again in safety very nearly to the edge of the loch.
"He did not do any great thing after all," observed one of the boys. "I
thought, Vallery, you were going up to the top."
"So I will, if you will follow me," answered Norman.
"You will be frightened, before you are half way up," cried another.
"You dare not do it," said a third.
"Big as you all are, I will dare anything you can do," exclaimed Norman
proudly, and he began to reascend the rocks.
"Oh, pray do not," cried Robby, who notwithstanding the order he had
received to be off, still kept near. "You will be tumbling down, I know
you will."
The other boys followed Norman, most of them keeping in a safer
direction away from the waterfall.
Robby was running off to call some of the servants, who might he thought
stop the young gentlemen better than he could, when at that instant he
saw his grandfather pulling down the loch and close to the mouth of the
stream formed by the waterfall. Just as he was beckoning to him to make
haste that he might land and stop the boys, he heard a cry, and saw
Norman slipping down the side of a smooth rock wet with the spray of the
waterfall. In vain he shouted to him to hold on to any thing he could
grasp. Norman shrieked out with terror, but the sound of the cascade
prevented any one but his boyish companions from hearing his words.
Horror-struck, they could do nothing to help him. Robby ran up along
the stream, but was stopped by the roughness of the ground.
Norman though clinging to a few tufts of grass or small shrubs was
unable to regain a footing. He slipped down lower and lower, till he
fell with a plunge into the stream. The water was sufficiently deep to
prevent him from being hurt by the fall, but the current was strong, and
though his head was above the surface, he was unable to resist it, and
carried off his legs was borne down the stream.
Robby had a handkerchief tied in a sailor's knot round his neck, and as
Norman passed close to the bank, he threw the end to him. Norman
grasped it, and held on tightly while Robby kept a firm hold of the
other end. But Robby was small, and the stream bore Norman onward. As
long as he could, Robby scrambled along the bank, thus keeping Norman
above water.
The other boys hurried down the rocks to assist him, but just before the
foremost got up to where he was, Robby lost his balance, and falling
into the water he and Norman were carried down the stream together.
Old Alec had seen the boys and heard their cries, and guessing that
something was wrong, happily at that moment shoved his boat up the mouth
of the stream as far as she could go. To throw his grapnel to the shore
and to spring overboard was the work of an instant, directly he saw the
two young boys floating down towards him. He had them safe in his arms
before either of them had lost consciousness, and placing them in the
boat he rowed as fast, as he could to the landing-place below the spot
where the picnic party were still seated. They, alarmed by the cries of
the other boys, one of whom shouted out in his terror that little
Vallery was being drowned, started to their feet.
Alec's loud voice which reached them, as he hailed in sailor fashion,
"They are here all safe," somewhat reassured them.
Captain Vallery and Mrs Maclean, were the first to get to the boat.
They were followed by Fanny and her mamma.
Norman was quickly lifted out of the boat by his papa, who was not till
then satisfied that he was really alive. He was at once carried up to
the knoll, where a fire had just been lighted. The laird came up
directly afterwards with little Robby in his arms, having gleaned from
Alec and the other boys exactly what had happened.
"I find, Vallery, that your son owes his life to this little fellow, for
had it not been for his judgment and courage, he would have been carried
into the loch, before Alec Morrison could have come up to save him," he
exclaimed. Captain and Mrs Vallery expressed their gratitude, and as
may be supposed, everybody praised little Robby's bravery.
Meantime the boys' wet clothes were stripped off, and they were wrapped
up in warm shawls supplied by the ladies. Fanny knelt by her brother's
side, almost overcome with her agitation; indeed he was evidently
suffering as much from alarm, perhaps, as from the sudden plunge into
the cold water.
As none of the Glen Tulloch party could longer enjoy the picnic, a
servant was sent on to get their carriages ready, while Captain Vallery
carrying Norman, and old Alec his little grandson, they proceeded down
the glen that they might get home as soon as possible. The other boys,
as may be supposed, wisely amused themselves on safe ground, and it is
to be hoped they were properly thankful that they had been preserved
from an accident by which their young friend had so nearly lost his
life.
Mrs Vallery took her seat in the hinder part of the carriage, and kept
Norman in her arms, anxiously watching his face, now flushed, now pale,
while the two elder ladies insisted on taking care of little Robby. He,
however, appeared to be not all the worse for his wetting. He could not
help now and then expressing his thankfulness that the young gentleman
had caught hold of his handkerchief in time to avoid being carried into
the loch before his grandfather had reached him. He said nothing about
himself, nor did he seem to think that he was deserving of any praise.
The laird and Captain Vallery drove towards home as fast as they could,
but their anxiety to arrive at the end of their journey made the road
appear much longer than it had on coming.
Mrs Maclean wished to carry Robby on with her. To this, however, Alec
would not agree.
"No, Mrs Maclean," he answered, "he will do very well with me. I could
not rest without him under my roof, and a sailor's son will be none the
worse for a ducking." Robby was then lifted out of the carriage, and by
his own request placed on the ground.
"Please, Mrs Maclean, may I come over to-morrow to ask how the young
gentleman is?" he said looking up. "I will ask God, when I say my
prayers to-night, that he may be made well."
"If your grandfather can spare you, we shall be glad to see you," said
Mrs Maclean.
"I must thank you for the interest you feel in my little grandson," said
Mrs Leslie.
Robby seemed much pleased. As long as the carriages were in sight he
stood watching them, and then ran after his grandfather into the
cottage.
As soon as the party reached Glen Tulloch, Norman was carried up to bed.
It was evident that he was very ill, he had been heated by scrambling
about the rocks, and the cold water had given him a sudden chill.
Before the next morning he was in a high fever. A doctor was sent for,
but some hours elapsed before he arrived. He looked very grave and said
that the little boy required the greatest care and watching.
Mrs Leslie and her mamma insisted that Fanny should go to bed, and as
she was always obedient, she did as they wished, but she could not go to
sleep. All night long she thought of her little brother, and of the
danger he was in, and oh! how earnestly she prayed that he might
recover.
Either his granny or mamma sat by his bedside throughout the night. He
tumbled and tossed, his limbs and his head aching again and again, he
saw little birds flitting backwards and forwards in the room.
"Ah! ah! naughty boy, I am Pecksy's brother, you killed him; you know
you did!" said one nodding its head, as it perched on the back of a
chair, at the end of his bed. Then it flew away, and another came and
said, "I am Pecksy's sister, naughty boy, you killed him, you know you
did!" and it too nodded its head.
A third and a fourth and a fifth came and chirped in plaintive tones,
"Oh, why did you kill our dear little friend? you say you did not kill
him; you know you did, you naughty boy!" and so they went on flying
backwards and forwards, now concealed in the dark part of the room, and
now appearing in the light of the lamp.
In vain Norman tried to raise his voice--he could not even whisper--all
he could do was to watch them with his aching eyes as they flitted to
and fro. Oh! how he longed to get rid of them. Would they never go
away? No; back they came, and twittered in the same mournful strain.
"You killed our brother, you killed our friend; you know you did,
naughty, naughty boy!"
At length he could bear it no longer, and with a scream he exclaimed,
"Oh, put them out of the room--catch them! catch them! take them away!
I will be a good boy, indeed I will. I will never do such a thing
again."
Though he did not speak very distinctly, his mamma understood his words.
"Take what away, dear? There is nothing in the room--there is nothing
to hurt you."
"The birds! the birds! Oh yes, oh yes, the birds, the birds, I see them
again," cried Norman, with his eyes wide open, staring into the air.
In vain Mrs Vallery tried to soothe him. He still cried out, "Take the
birds away!" He did not even know her.
"Naughty woman, do as I tell you! Don't let the birds come and tease
me," he cried out.
Strange as it may seem, he did not once speak of his fall from the rock
into the water, or of the danger he had run on that occasion.
Thus the night passed on.
As soon as it was morning, Fanny hurried to her little brother's room.
Her grief and pain were very great when she heard him crying out, "Take
the birds away, oh, don't let them tease me!"
She sat down on a stool by his bedside.
Her papa soon came, and he and her mamma hung over Norman, anxiously
watching him, but though he opened his eyes wide, he did not recognise
them.
"Go away, go away, I do not want you," he murmured.
Even when his mamma took his hand and affectionately bent down over him,
he gazed at her as if she was a stranger.
Fanny could scarcely restrain her grief to see him thus.
The doctor came back as early as he could, after visiting a patient some
miles off. Fanny anxiously waited to hear his report.
"The little fellow may do well, but the fever is not yet at its height,
and we shall be able to judge better to-morrow," he said.
"Oh, how dreadful it will be to have to wait all that time," thought
Fanny.
She was sent out of the room several times by her mamma, as she could do
nothing, and as often stole back again, only feeling at rest when seated
by her young brother's bedside.
At last Norman appeared to drop off to sleep, and her granny, who had
taken her mamma's place, whispered that she must go out and enjoy some
fresh air.
Just as she descended the steps, she saw old Alec and little Robby
coming towards the house. Robby darted forward to meet her.
"O Mistress Fanny, how is the young gentleman?" he asked in an eager
tone.
"My brother is very, very ill," answered Fanny, unable to restrain her
tears.
Robby looked very sad, but his countenance brightened up in a little
time as he said--
"Don't cry, young lady, grandfather and I have been praying that God
will take care of Master Norman, and make him well--I am sure He will--
so don't cry, don't cry."
Fanny dried her tears, for she had the same hope in her heart,
remembering that she, too, had been praying, and she knew that God hears
children's prayers as well as those of grown people.
She thanked Robby and old Alec very much for coming to inquire for her
brother, and asked them to come into the house as she was sure her papa
and the laird and Mrs Maclean would like to see them. Her mamma was
lying down to rest, and her granny was with Norman she knew, or they
would like to see them too. Old Alec, however, declined, saying that he
only came to ask after the young master, and that he must be back to
attend to his cattle and sheep.
He was going away, when the laird caught sight of him, and insisted on
his coming in with Robby. Mrs Maclean loaded Robby with all sorts of
things, and Captain Vallery wished to show his gratitude in some
substantial way to old Alec and his little grandson, for saving Norman's
life.
Alec persisted that neither he nor the child wished for any reward for
doing what was simply their duty.
"That is no reason why I should not show my gratitude, and I will
consult with the laird how I can best do so," answered the captain.
For many days Norman remained very ill, and every day old Alec and the
little boy came to inquire for him.
"Robby will not rest till he has heard how the young master is going
on," said his grandfather, "and though I tell him he cannot help him to
get well, still he says he must come to ask how he is doing."
Fanny spent every moment that she was allowed to do so in her brother's
room.
At length the doctor said that the complaint had taken a favourable
turn, and that Norman would soon get well. He looked, however, very
pale and thin, and very unlike the strong ruddy boy he had before
appeared. Fanny was now allowed to be frequently with him. Their poor
mamma, from her constant watching by his bedside, was herself made ill,
and even granny required rest and fresh air.
What an active attentive little nurse did Fanny make, and how pleasantly
and gently she talked to Norman, telling him all sorts of things which
she could think of, to interest him. She daily brought him his meals;
he said that he would rather take them from her than from any one else,
as the tea and broth and pudding always tasted nicer when she gave them
to him.
She had not liked to talk of Robby and Alec for fear of reminding him of
Pecksy. One day when she brought him a cup of broth, and he was sitting
propped up with pillows, he threw his arms round her neck.
"You dear, kind sister," he said, "how good you are to me, and I have
never been good to you; I don't think anybody else would be as kind to
me if I had treated them as I have you."
"Oh, but you know I love you, Norman, and though you have been angry
sometimes, that should not make me cease to love you. But here, take
the broth, and then I will tell you that not only I, but others care for
you, and have prayed that you might be made well, whom you have treated
rudely and ill."