"Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
The lighthouse-top I see?
Is this the hill? Is this the Kirk?
Is this mine own countree?
We drifted o'er the harbour bar,
And I with sobs did pray--
O let me be awake, my GOD!
Or let me sleep alway."
_The Ancient Mariner_.
When Alister joined us the first evening after we came back from poor
Biddy, he was so deeply interested in hearing about her, that he would
have gone with us the next morning, if he had not had business on hand.
He had a funny sort of remorse for having misjudged her the day she
befooled the sentry to get me off. Business connected with Biddy's death
detained Dennis in Liverpool for a day or two, and as I had not given
any warning of the date of my return to my people, I willingly stayed
with him. My comrades had promised to go home with me before proceeding
on their respective ways, but (in answer to the letter which announced
his safe arrival in Liverpool) Alister got a message from his mother
summoning him to Scotland at once on important family matters, and the
Shamrock fell to pieces sooner than we had intended. In the course of a
few days, Dennis and I heard from our old comrade.
"The Braes of Buie.
"MY DEAR JACK AND DENNIS: I am home safe and sound, though not in time
for the funeral, which (as partly consequent on the breaking of a tube
in one engine, and a trifling damage to the wheels of a second that was
attached, if ye understand me, with the purpose of rectifying the
deficiencies of the first, the Company being, in my humble judgment,
unwisely thrifty in the matter of second-hand boilers) may be regarded
as a dispensation of Providence, and was in no degree looked upon by any
member of the family as a wanting of respect towards the memory of the
deceased. With the sole and single exception of Miss Margaret
MacCantywhapple, a far-away cousin by marriage, who, though in good
circumstances, and a very virtuous woman, may be said to have seen her
best days, and is not what she was in her intellectual judgment, being
afflicted with deafness and a species of palsy, besides other
infirmities in her faculties. I misdoubt if I was wise in using my
endeavours to make the poor body understand that I was at the other
side of the world when my cousin was taken sick, all her response being,
'_they aye say so_.' However, at long and last, she was brought to admit
that the best of us may misjudge, and as we all have our faults, and
hers are for the most part her misfortunes, I tholed her imputations on
my veracity in the consideration of her bodily infirmities.
"My dear mother, thank GOD, is in her usual, and overjoyed to see my
face once more. She desires me to present her respects to both of you,
with an old woman's blessing. I'm aware that it will be a matter of
kindly satisfaction to you to learn that her old age is secured in
carnal comforts through my father's cousin having left all his worldly
gear for her support; that is, he left it to me, which is the same
thing. Not without a testimony of respect for my father's memory, that
all the gear of Scotland would be cheap to me by the side of; and a few
words as to industry, energy, and the like, which, though far from being
deserved on my part, sound--like voices out of the mist upon the
mountain side--sweeter and weightier, it may be, than they deserve, when
a body hears them, as ye may say, out of the grave.
"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good, and it's not for me to
complain of the down-break in the engines, seeing that in place of
rushing past the coast, we just crawled along the top of these grand
cliffs in the bonny sunshine, which hardly wakes a smile upon the stern
faces of them, while the white foam breaks at no allowance about their
feet. Many's the hour, Jack, I've lain on the moss, and looked down into
a dark cove to watch the tide come in, and turn blue, and green, and
tawny purple over the weeds and rocks, and fall back again to where the
black crags sit in creamy surf with sea-birds on their shoulders. Eh!
man, it's sweet to come home and see it all again; the folk standing at
their doors, and bairns sitting on the dykes with flowers in their
hands, and the waving barley-fields on the cliff tops shining against
the sea and sky, as lights and shades change their places over a woman's
hair. There were some decent bodies in the train beside me, that thought
I was daft, with my head out of the window, in an awful draught, at the
serious risk of brow-ague, not to speak of coal-smuts, which are horrid
if ye get them in your eye. And not without reason did they think so,
for I'll assure ye I would have been loth to swear whether it was spray
or tears that made my cheeks so salt when I saw the bit herring-boats
stealing away out into the blue mist, for all the world as if they were
laddies leaving home to seek their fortunes, as it might be ourselves.
"But I'm taking up your time with havers about my own country, and I
ask your pardon; though I'm not ashamed to say that, for what I've seen
of the world--tropics and all--give me the north-east coast of Scotland!
"I am hoping, at your leisure, to hear that ye both reached home, and
found all belonging to ye as ye could wish; and I'm thinking that if
Dennis wrote in French, I might make it out, for I've come by an old
French Dictionary that was my father's. GOD save the Shamrock! Your
affectionate friend,
"ALISTER AUCHTERLAY.
"I am ill at saying all that I feel, but I'll never forget."
Dennis and I tramped from Liverpool. Partly for the walk, and partly
because we were nearly penniless. His system, as I told him, seemed to
be to empty his pockets first, and to think about how he was going to
get along afterwards. However, it must be confessed that the number and
the needs of the poor Irish we came across in connection with Biddy's
death and its attendant ceremonies, were enough to be "the ruination" of
a far less tender-hearted Paddy than Dennis O'Moore.
And so--a real sailor with a real bundle under my arm--I tramped Home.
Dennis had been a good comrade out in the world; but that was a trifle
to the tact and sympathy he displayed when my mother and father and I
were making fools of ourselves in each other's arms.
He saw everything, and he pretended he saw nothing. He picked up my
father's spectacles, and waltzed with the dogs whilst the old gentleman
was blowing his nose. When Martha broke down in hysterics (for which, it
was not difficult to see, she would punish herself and us later on, with
sulking and sandpaper), Dennis "brought her to" by an affectionate
hugging, which, as she afterwards explained, seemed "that natteral" that
she never realized its impropriety till it was twenty-four hours too
late to remonstrate.
When my dear mother was calmer, and very anxious about our supper and
beds, I ascertained from my father that the Woods were from home, and
that Jem had gone down to the farm to sit for an hour or so with
Charlie; so, pending the preparation of our fatted calf, Dennis and I
went to bring both Jem and Charlie back for the night.
It was a dark, moonless night, only tempered by the reflections of
furnace fires among the hills. Dennis thought they were northern lights.
The lane was cool, and fresh and damp, and full of autumn scents of
fading leaves, and toadstools, and Herb Robert and late Meadow Sweet.
And as we crossed the grass under the walnut-trees, I saw that the old
school-room window was open to the evening air, and lighted from within.
I signalled silence to Dennis, and we crept up, as Jem and I had crept
years ago to see the pale-faced relation hunting for the miser's will in
the tea-caddy.
In the old arm-chair sat Charlie, propped with cushions. On one side of
him Jem leant with elbows on the table, and on the other side sat Master
Isaac, spectacles on nose.
The whole table was covered by a Map of the World, and Charlie's high,
eager voice came clearly out into the night.
"Isaac and I have marked every step they've gone, Jem, but we don't
think it would be lucky to make the back-mark over the Atlantic till
they are quite safe Home."
Dennis says, in his teasing way, he never believed in my "athletics"
till he saw me leap in through that window. He was not far behind.
"Jem!"
"Jack!"
When Jem released me and I looked round, Charlie was resting in Dennis
O'Moore's arms and gazing up in his own odd, abrupt, searching way into
the Irish boy's face.
"Isaac!" he half laughed, half sobbed: "Dennis is afraid of hurting this
poor rickety body of mine. Come here, will you, and pinch me, or pull my
hair, that I may be sure it isn't all a dream!"
THE END.
* * * * *
RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED,
LONDON & BUNGAY.
_The present Series of Mrs. Ewing's Works is the only authorized,
complete, and uniform Edition published._
_It will consist of 18 volumes, Small Crown 8vo, at 2s. 6d. per vol.,
issued, as far as possible, in chronological order, and these will
appear at the rate of two volumes every two months, so that the Series
will be completed within 18 months. The device of the cover was
specially designed by a Friend of Mrs. Ewing._
_The following is a list of the books included in the Series--_
1. MELCHIOR'S DREAM, AND OTHER TALES.
2. MRS. OVERTHEWAY'S REMEMBRANCES.
3. OLD-FASHIONED FAIRY TALES.
4. A FLAT IRON FOR A FARTHING.
5. THE BROWNIES, AND OTHER TALES.
6. SIX TO SIXTEEN.
7. LOB LIE-BY-THE-FIRE, AND OTHER TALES.
8. JAN OF THE WINDMILL.
9. VERSES FOR CHILDREN, AND SONGS.
10. THE PEACE EGG--A CHRISTMAS MUMMING PLAY--HINTS FOR PRIVATE
THEATRICALS, &c.
11. A GREAT EMERGENCY, AND OTHER TALES.
12. BROTHERS OF PITY, AND OTHER TALES OF BEASTS AND MEN.
13. WE AND THE WORLD, Part I.
14. WE AND THE WORLD, Part II.
15. JACKANAPES--DADDY DARWIN'S DOVE-COTE--THE STORY OF A SHORT LIFE.
16. MARY'S MEADOW, AND OTHER TALES OF FIELDS AND FLOWERS.
17. MISCELLANEA, including The Mystery of the Bloody Hand--Wonder
Stories--Tales of the Khoja, and other translations.
18. JULIANA HORATIA EWING AND HER BOOKS, with a selection from Mrs.
Ewing's Letters.
* * * * *
S.P.C.K., NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, LONDON, W.C.