A HOROSCOPE.
Events were marching on at Airlie. Leezibeth came to Coquette, and
said--
"Sir Peter and Lady Drum came back frae Edinburgh last night."
Coquette remained silent, and Leezibeth was astonished. Was it
possible the girl had never heard of Sir Peter and Lady Drum?
"And I saw my lady this morning, and she is coming to see you this
very afternoon," said Leezibeth, certain she had now effected a
surprise.
"Who are they?" said Coquette. "Are they Scotch? I do not wish to
see any more Scotch."
"Ma certes!" said Leezibeth, firing up suddenly; but presently she
said, in a voice more gentle than Coquette had ever heard her
use--"Ye'll maybe like the Scotch folk yet, Miss, when ye hae time to
understand them; and Lady Drum is a grand woman--just an
extraordinar' woman; and I told her a' about ye, Miss, and she was
greatly interested, as I could see; and I made bold, Miss, to say
that ye were a bit out o' sorts the now, and if my lady would but ask
ye ower to Castle Cawmil, and let ye hae some company mair fitted to
ye than us bodies about the Manse, it might cheer ye up a bit, and
bring some colour to your cheek."
Coquette was really surprised now. Could it be Leezibeth, her enemy,
who was speaking in this timidly solicitous fashion?
"It is very good of you----"
"Oh, we are no so bad as ye think us," said Leezibeth, plucking up
courage. "And there is Scotch blood in your ain veins, Miss, as
anybody can see--for the way ye sing they Scotch songs is just past
believin'!"
From Coquette's sitting-room Leezibeth went straight to the
Minister's study.
"I have come to speak to ye, sir, about Miss Cassilis."
"Dear me!" said the Minister impatiently, "I wish ye would let my
niece alone, Leezibeth!"
But the Minister was no less astonished than Coquette had been when
Leezibeth unfolded her tale, and made it apparent that she had come
to intercede for the young French girl. Leezibeth stood at the door,
and announced it as her decision that the Minister was bound to see
to his niece's health and comfort more effectually than he had done.
She spoke, indeed, as if she dared the Minister to refuse.
"And Sir Peter and my lady are coming here," continued Leezibeth,
"for I met them as they were going over to Earlshope, and my lady
spoke to me about Miss Cassilis, and will doubtless ask her to visit
her. Not only maun she visit Castle Cawmil, but she maun stay there,
sir, until the change has done the lassie good."
"What is the meaning of all this, Leezibeth?" said the Minister.
"Has she bewitched you? Yesterday you would have said of her, 'She
is a Samaritan, and hath a devil.' Now she has become your Benjamin,
as it were. What will Andrew say?"
"Let the body mind his peas and his pittawties, and no interfere wi'
me," said Leezibeth, with a touch of vigorous contempt.
Nevertheless, Leezibeth had a conversation with her husband very
shortly after, and was a good deal more cautious in her speech than
was customary with her. When Andrew came into the kitchen to have
his dinner, she said--
"Andrew, my man, I'm thinkin' we dinna understand they Romans. Could
ye but see the gude books that that lassie has wi' her, and see her
read a bit o' one o' them every night and every mornin'--indeed, I'm
thinkin', Andrew, the Romans maun be a kind o' religious folk, after
a'."
Andrew said "Hm!" and went on with his broth.
"I wonder," continued Leezibeth, regarding her husband with some
apprehension, "whether there is ony harm in the bit pictures she has.
It's my opeenion she doesna worship them--as if they were a graven
eemage--but has them, maybe, to jog her memory. Ye ken, Andrew, that
there was a gran' difference atween the gowden calf that the children
o' Israel made and the brazen serpent that the Lord commanded Moses
to lift up in the wilderness."
"Whatever is the woman at?" muttered Andrew to himself, over his
plate.
"The serpent was only a sign and a symbol, the for-shadowin' o' what
was to come; and surely Moses kenned what he was doin' and didna
transgress. Now, Andrew, if the Romans--children o' wrath as they
are--have a bit cross or a crucifix only as a sort o' remembrance,
there is maybe no so muckle harm in it."
Andrew dropped his spoon into the broth, and sat bolt upright in his
chair.
"Am I listenin' or dreamin', woman? What evil spirit is it that has
put these things into your mouth, and linked ye wi' them whaus feet
are set in hell? Are ye clean dannert, woman, that ye should come as
an apologist for such folk, and tread the blood o' the covenant under
foot? Nae wonder they have their crucifixes and their picture--for
it is a judgment upon them that they maun look upon Him whom they
have pierced, and mourn their lost condition. And it is this lassie
that has done it a', as I said frae the first. 'Twas a sad day for
us that she came to Airlie; the Manse has never been itsel' since
then. Yet never did I think to hear such words from a woman well
brought up as ye have been; and it fears me to think what will be the
end o't."
"Bless me!" said Leezibeth, testily, "I only asked for your opeenion."
"And my opeenion is," said Andrew, "that the time is coming when ye
will see this woman in her true colours, and she will no longer be a
snare to the feet o' them that would walk decently and uprightly. Ye
hae been lead awa' by the tempter, Leezibeth, and the fair things o'
the world hae been set before ye, and the kingdoms thereof, and your
eyes are blinded. But there will come a day--and that soon--when
this Manse will see a change, and her that has entered it will be
driven forth to seek another people. Dinna be beguiled in the
meantime, Leezibeth. The end is comin', and her pictures and her
crucifixes will not save her then."
"What do ye mean, Andrew?" said his wife, who was nearly in tears.
"I am sure the lassie has done no wrong. I declare my heart feels
for her when I see her sittin' by the window, a' by herself, looking
out at naething, and a fair wecht o' weariness and patience on her
face. If she had a mother, now, to look after her and speak to
her----"
"And how long is it," said Andrew, "since ye hae taen this interest
in her? How did she cast her wiles ower ye?"
Leezibeth did not answer. She was thinking of the vague and dreadful
future which Andrew had been prophesying.
"Let her alone--leave her to hersel'," said Andrew. "I warn ye
against this woman, Leezibeth, as I hae warned the Minister, though
he would tak nae heed, and leaves her wi' a' her idolatrous
implements free to work destruction in the midst o' a decent and
God-fearing house. Yet in time this will be changed; and we will
have to cast out the serpent. 'I will hedge up thy way with thorns,
and make a wall, that she shall not find her paths. And she shall
follow after her lovers, but she shall not overtake them, and she
shall seek them, but shall not find them.'"
"Who is that you are talking about? Is it my cousin?" said the
Whaup, haughtily, as he suddenly stood before them. He had come into
the kitchen in order to get some glue for a "dragon" which he was
making for a younger brother, and had heard the latter end of
Andrew's bitter forecast.
As for Leezibeth, she had turned aside in deep distress. Her newly
awakened sympathy for the girl was rudely troubled by these sinister
anticipations of her husband; and she did not know what to think of
them. But Andrew, who had for the moment forgotten his broth, was
looking up when he saw the Whaup unexpectedly appear. The old man's
face, which was severe enough as he spoke, assumed a deep frown on
his seeing his enemy; he was evidently annoyed at being "caught," and
yet determined to brave it out.
"Why, you can't eat your dinner without stopping to talk spite and
scandal!" said the Whaup, with a curl of his lip. "Can't you leave
that to women? And a pretty Daniel you are, with your prophecies,
and your judgments, and your warnings!--but if you will be a Daniel,
by Jingo! I'll make this house worse to you than any den of lions
ever you were in in your life!"
The Whaup went out and summoned a secret conclave of his brothers.
The Vehmgericht met in the hay-loft.