All the night during which Isie Constable lay dreaming of racks,
pincers, screws, and Alec Forbes, the snow was busy falling outside,
shrouding the world once more; so that next day the child could not get
out upon any pretence. Had she succeeded in escaping from the house,
she might have been lost in the snow, or drowned in the Glamour, over
which there was as yet only a rude temporary bridge to supply the place
of that which had been swept away. But although very uneasy at the
obstruction of her projects, she took good care to keep her own
counsel.--The snow was very obstinate to go. At length, after many
days, she was allowed to go out with stockings over her shoes, and play
in the garden. No sooner was she alone, than she darted out of the
garden by the back-gate, and before her mother missed her, was crossing
the Glamour. She had never been so far alone, and felt frightened; but
she pushed bravely forward.
Mrs Forbes and Annie Anderson were sitting together when Mary put her
head in at the door and told her mistress that the daughter of Mr
Constable, the clothier, wanted to see her.
"Why, she's a mere infant, Mary!" exclaimed Mrs Forbes.
"'Deed is she, mem; but she's nane the less doon the stair i' the
kitchie. Ye wad hae seen her come yersel' but she's ower wee. Ye cudna
get a glimp o' her ower the edge o' the snaw i' the cuttin' doon to the
yett. Hoo her fowk cud lat her oot! She's a puir wee white-faced elf o'
a crater, but she's byous auld-farrand and wise-like, and naething will
do but she maun see yersel', mem."
"Bring her up, Mary. Poor little thing! What can she want?"
Presently Isie entered the room, looking timidly about her.
"Well, my dear, what do you want?"
"It's aboot Alec, mem," said Isie, glancing towards Annie.
"Well, what about him?" asked Mrs Forbes, considerably bewildered, but
not fearing bad news from the mouth of such a messenger.
"Hae ye heard naething aboot him, mem?"
"Nothing particular. I haven't heard from him for a fortnight."
"That's easy accoontit for, mem."
"What do you mean, my dear? Speak out."
"Weel, mem, the way I heard it was raither particlar, and I wadna like
a'body to ken."
Here she glanced again at Annie.
"You needn't be afraid of Annie Anderson," said Mrs Forbes smiling.
"What is it?"
"Weel, mem, I didna richtly ken. But they hae ta'en him intil a
dreidfu' place, and whether they hae left a haill inch o' skin upon's
body, is mair nor I can tell; but they hae rackit him, and pu'd o' 's
nails aff, maybe them a', and--"
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mrs Forbes, with a most unusual inclination
to hysterics, seeing something terrible peep from behind the grotesque
report of Isie, "what _do_ you mean, child?"
"I'm tellin' ye't as I heard it, mem. I houp they haena brunt him yet.
Ye maun gang and tak' him oot o' their han's."
"Whose hands, child? Who's doing all this to him?"
"They stan' aboot the corners o' the streets, mem, in muckle toons, and
they catch a haud o' young laads, and they trail them awa' wi' them,
and they jist torment the life oot o' them. They say they're women; but
I dinna believe that. It's no possible. They maun be men dressed up in
women's claes."
Was it a great relief to the mother's heart to find that the childish
understanding of Isie had misinterpreted and misrepresented? She rose
and left the room, and her troubled step went to and fro overhead. And
the spirit of Annie was troubled likewise. How much she understood, I
cannot determine; but I believe that a sense of vague horror and pity
overwhelmed her heart. Yet the strength of her kindness forced her to
pay some attention to the innocent little messenger of evil.
"Whaur heard ye a' that, Isie, dear?"
"I heard my father and my mither gaein' on lamentin' ower him efter I
was i' my bed, and they thocht I was asleep. But gin Mistress Forbes
winna tak' him awa', I'll gang and tell a' the ministers in Glamerton,
and see whether they winna raise the toon."
Annie stared in amazement at the wee blue-eyed wizened creature before
her speaking with the decision of a minor prophet.
"Is the child here still?" said Mrs Forbes with some asperity as she
re-entered the room. "I must go by the mail this afternoon, Annie."
"That's richt, mem," said Isie. "The suner the better, I'm sure. He
mayna be deid yet."
"What a very odd child!" said Mrs Forbes.
"Wouldn't it be better to write first, ma'am?" suggested Annie.
Before Mrs Forbes could reply, the white mutch of Mrs Constable
appeared over the top of the snow that walled the path. She was in hot
pursuit of her child, whose footsteps she had traced. When shown into
the dining-room, she rushed up to her, and caught her to her bosom,
crying,
"Ye ill-contrived smatchit! What hae ye been aboot, rinnin' awa' this
gait? I wonner ye wasna droont i' the Glamour."
"I don't see what better you could expect of your own child, Mrs
Constable, if you go spreading reports against other people's
children," said Mrs Forbes bitterly.
"It's a lee whaever said sae," retorted Mrs Constable fiercely. "Wha
tell't ye that?"
"Where else could your child have heard such reports, then?"
"Isie! Isie! My poor wee bairn! What hae ye been aboot to tak' awa' yer
mither's gude name?"
And she hugged the child closer yet.
Isie hung down her head, and began to have dim perceptions that she
might have been doing mischief with the best possible intentions.
"I only tell't Mistress Forbes hoo ill they war to Alec."
After a moment's reflection, Mrs Constable turned with a subdued manner
to Mrs Forbes.
"The bairn's a curious bairn, mem," she said. "And she's owerheard her
father and me speakin' thegither as gin't had been only ae body
thinkin'. For gin ever twa was ane, that twa and that ane is Andrew
Constable and mysel'."
"But what right had you to talk about my son?"
"Weel, mem, that queston gangs raither far. What's already procleemed
frae the hoose-taps may surely be spoken i' the ear in closets--for oor
back-room is but a closet. Gin ye think that fowk'll haud their tongues
about your bairn mair nor ony ither body's bairn ye're mista'en, mem.
But never ane heard o' 't frae me, and I can tak' my bodily aith for my
man, for he's jist by ordinar' for haudin' his tongue. I cud hardly
worm it oot o' 'm mysel'."
Mrs Forbes saw that she had been too hasty.
"What does it all mean, Mrs Constable?" she said, "for I am quite
ignorant."
"Ye may weel be that, mem. And maybe there's no a word o' trouth i' the
story, for I'm doobtin' the win' that brocht it blew frae an ill airt."
"I really don't understand you, Mrs Constable. What do they say about
him?"
"Ow, jist that he's consortin' wi' the warst o' ill company, mem. But
as I said to Anerew, maybe he'll come oot o' their cluiks no that
muckle the waur, efter a'."
Mrs Forbes sank on the sofa, and hid her face in her hands. Annie
turned white as death, and left the room. When Mrs Forbes lifted her
head, Mrs Constable and her strange child had vanished.
Mrs Forbes and Annie wept together bitterly, in the shadow of death
which the loved one cast upon them across the white plains and hills.
Then the mother sat down and wrote, begging him to deny the terrible
charge; after which they both felt easier. But when the return of post
had brought no reply, and the next day was likewise barren of tidings,
Mrs Forbes resolved to go to the hateful city at once.