CHAPTER XXXV. THE WOODRANGER'S SECRET .... 300
s kind Mrs. Stark spoke, the Woodranger entered the apartment in his swift, noiseless way, to pause just inside the skin door.
" Forgive me — "
" Come right this way, Woodranger," said Norman, holding out a hand. " I want to see you, and talk with you."
" So you shall, lad,, so you shall. These ol' eyes ne'er looked on a more gladsome sight than to see you alive at this hour, and so well. But ere I get my ol' tongue to babbling like a runaway brook, there is the leetle lassie, who is pining to come to you. Come, lassie ! "
Then, to Norman's joy, Rilma came swiftly to his side, and they were locked in each other's arms.
" I cried for you, brother, as I saw that awful flood rush over you. I never expected to see you again alive. And I never should if brave Woodranger had not plunged into the roaring water and saved you. Norman, we all owe our lives to him. He is the bravest, noblest man in the world."
" Amen, dear sister; he is all of that. Come here, dear Woodranger, and let me thank you."
" Nay, lad, I cannot dissemble; it would be a blameful indiscretion. While you chat with the lassie I will go out and ketch a whiff o' fresh air. That fire do burn up amazing stout," and before any of them could interpose he had left the house.
" The strangest man I ever saw, as well as the best," said Mrs. Stark. "And he seems queerer than ever to-day. Why, as early as it is, he has been to Goffe's and back this morning. I can't imagine what he is doing. Acts as if he was looking for some one. But, excuse me, and I will take myself out of the way, so you can talk."
" No — no, mother Stark ; we don't want you to go. But you have not told me of grandfather, Rilma."
" He is better than you, I think, Norman, though he is more nervous and excited than ever. Woodranger wouldn't let me stay a great while with him. He wants no one but Woodranger, not even Mr. Stark."
" I must go in and see him by and by. But the
old home. Was the house carried off by the river ?"
"Archie tells me it was not injured," replied Mrs. Stark, " though the water completely surrounded it, and had it risen another foot must have undermined it. The river is falling away fast, and we do not think there is any further danger. Here comes Woodranger back."
"Come in, Woodranger," called out Norman. " Don't run off like that again."
" Mebbe I won't, lad, mebbe I won't again. We have much to be thankful for, lad. I think the river is dropping away. I thought perhaps I could cross this afternoon."
" You are not going away, Woodranger ? We shall not let you."
" Here is the horn, lad," said the Woodranger, abruptly, handing Norman the MacDonald bugle which had come so near costing him his life. " I found it tight gripped in your hand. For a wonder, your grandfather has not inquired after it."
Norman took the bugle with an expression of thanks, saying he would give it to his grandfather as soon as he could. Then, seeing that the Wood-ranger appeared about to be leaving again, he said :
" Aren't you going to stay with me, Woodranger ? You cannot be going away ?"
" Not fur, lad. I cannot dissemble, but I s'pose I oughter go down to Goffe's. Mebbe when you get a leetle stronger, I shall have something to say to you."
" Say it now, Woodranger, I shall — "
" I durst not, lad, I durst not. Wait a leetle," and with these words he went out of the house, and a few minutes later disappeared down the road.
" I never saw him so uneasy," said Mrs. Stark.
Though Norman had not received any injuries which were likely to be permanent, he soon found that it would be several days before he should be able to leave the house. But the week that followed was not unpleasant to him. Rilma was with him, the Stark boys came into his room at their will, and twice Rob Rogers visited him. Of course he saw considerable of the Woodranger, but not as much as he wished.
The day before Christmas, in the afternoon, he was allowed to see his grandfather, whom he had not seen since that night's adventure. The Woodranger and Rilma were with them. He was surprised to find him looking so wan and feeble. But the old Highlander grasped his hand with something of his usual vigour.
" It does ma auld een guid tae gaze on thee again. Ye'll soon be hame again."
"And we shall be so glad, grandfather."
" Nay, lad, I shall ne'er return tae the auld hame. I hae had a presentiment that my day be almos' ower."
"What's that, MacDonald?" asked the Woodranger. " Are you getting childish again ? I never knew a MacDonald to die o' sich a leetle clip as that which you say is going to kill you. You are no true — "
" Zounds, sirrah ! " cried the other, suddenly starting up. " I'm no' deed yet! Get me my cane, Norman, an' let me whack him at my will. Ye' may ca' me a fule, but ye ne'er shall say I'm ne'er a true MacDonald. My faither, sirrah, was the Chief o' Glencoe! "
" So much the worse for you, MacDonald. But I'm not here to stir an amazement. It should be a day o' peace. Quiet your heart, MacDonald. I have enough to still my own. I'm sore perplexed to say what lies next my heart. The trail o' the red man is easy to follow, and the tracks o' the bear are picked up like beech-nuts arter a frost. But the whims o' the heart are spun finer than spider threads. I cannot see these to pick 'em up!"
Never had the others seen the Woodranger so excited, and they were almost startled at his appearance.
" What is it, Woodranger ?" asked Norman. " Has the old house gone, after all ? We can soon build another, and better one."
" It is o' Alick, my bonnie boy, he wishes to speak. Ye're tae tell me mair o' Alick," declared Mr. MacDonald.
" Nay, nay! I cannot dissemble longer. Lad, your father is coming home ! "
No five words that he could have spoken would have caused greater surprise. In fact, the little group gazed on him in speechless wonder. Norman was the first to break the silence :
" What do you mean, Woodranger ? "
"Just what I said, lad. Your father is living — is even now on his way here. He should have been here a week ago. I am sure he is now at Goffe's." Norman was unable to make any reply, while such thoughts as he had never known filled his mind. His first and most natural one was the inquiry made of himself : " Is Woodranger mad ? He has acted strangely for a week, is it improbable that he has at last lost his reason ? " Then he continued, in a different train : " Can it be possible father is alive and coming to me ? " Trembling from head to foot, he caught the forester by the arm, saying :
" As you love me, Woodrnnger, tell me truly what you mean. Is father living, after all ? Is he coming here ? "
" I ne'er dissemble, lad. I — "
" Forgive me, Woodranger; I did not mean to doubt you. I don't know what I did mean. But you can explain. Please do."
" It is I who should crave forgiveness, lad, for the deception I have acted, but it was my foolish way to get round the truth. I have known that Archie McNiel lived, and I have known the truth o' his life these years, but I did not know you were living here until last summer. Then I sent at once to Archie to come with all speed possible, but, to make your surprise complete, I said nothing to you. I hope you will all forgive me. I haven't prevaricated the great truth, because no one has questioned me. I — "
" Hold, man!" cried Mr. MacDonald, breaking into his speech, " d'ye dare tell me that graceless McNiel — the murderer — "
" Stop, MacDonald ! " said the Woodranger, " this is no time for your silliness. Archie McNiel comes with a name as pure as thine. Ah, far more so, for the MacDonalds, with all their boasts o' warlike deeds, can show leetle else. You have told me in your confidential moments, which I am free to confess is taking a man in his weakness, that you would receive your Alick if he came under the shadow of the gallows. He would have to come in that way if he came. Archie McNiel comes with a heart as pure and spotless as this wee lassie. Here is the proof o' what I say, which I have carried long to give you."
As the Woodranger ceased speaking, he drew from under his hunting-frock a parcel, carefully wrapped in deer skin. As he handed this to Mr. MacDonald, he said:
" I'm going once more to meet him. He'll come to-night, I'm sure. Meanwhile, watch and wait. I admonish thee, MacDonald, to receive him with open arms. It is the last written request o' thy son."
" Some one will go with you, Woodranger," said Norman. " I am sure Mr. Stark will be willing to do so."
" Nay, lad, I must go alone. He will not be over-long in coming. If I fail to come back with him, yet I will see you all sometime."
He had reached the door. Then, as if prompted by a sudden impulse, he retraced his steps, and swiftly kissed the three, Mr. MacDonald first, then Norman, and last Rilma, whom he held closely in his arms for a long minute. Putting her down then, he noiselessly left the room before one of the three could call him back.
| A |
s kind Mrs. Stark spoke, the Woodranger entered the apartment in his swift, noiseless way, to pause just inside the skin door.
" Forgive me — "
" Come right this way, Woodranger," said Norman, holding out a hand. " I want to see you, and talk with you."
" So you shall, lad,, so you shall. These ol' eyes ne'er looked on a more gladsome sight than to see you alive at this hour, and so well. But ere I get my ol' tongue to babbling like a runaway brook, there is the leetle lassie, who is pining to come to you. Come, lassie ! "
Then, to Norman's joy, Rilma came swiftly to his side, and they were locked in each other's arms.
" I cried for you, brother, as I saw that awful flood rush over you. I never expected to see you again alive. And I never should if brave Woodranger had not plunged into the roaring water and saved you. Norman, we all owe our lives to him. He is the bravest, noblest man in the world."
" Amen, dear sister; he is all of that. Come here, dear Woodranger, and let me thank you."
" Nay, lad, I cannot dissemble; it would be a blameful indiscretion. While you chat with the lassie I will go out and ketch a whiff o' fresh air. That fire do burn up amazing stout," and before any of them could interpose he had left the house.
" The strangest man I ever saw, as well as the best," said Mrs. Stark. "And he seems queerer than ever to-day. Why, as early as it is, he has been to Goffe's and back this morning. I can't imagine what he is doing. Acts as if he was looking for some one. But, excuse me, and I will take myself out of the way, so you can talk."
" No — no, mother Stark ; we don't want you to go. But you have not told me of grandfather, Rilma."
" He is better than you, I think, Norman, though he is more nervous and excited than ever. Woodranger wouldn't let me stay a great while with him. He wants no one but Woodranger, not even Mr. Stark."
" I must go in and see him by and by. But the
old home. Was the house carried off by the river ?"
"Archie tells me it was not injured," replied Mrs. Stark, " though the water completely surrounded it, and had it risen another foot must have undermined it. The river is falling away fast, and we do not think there is any further danger. Here comes Woodranger back."
"Come in, Woodranger," called out Norman. " Don't run off like that again."
" Mebbe I won't, lad, mebbe I won't again. We have much to be thankful for, lad. I think the river is dropping away. I thought perhaps I could cross this afternoon."
" You are not going away, Woodranger ? We shall not let you."
" Here is the horn, lad," said the Woodranger, abruptly, handing Norman the MacDonald bugle which had come so near costing him his life. " I found it tight gripped in your hand. For a wonder, your grandfather has not inquired after it."
Norman took the bugle with an expression of thanks, saying he would give it to his grandfather as soon as he could. Then, seeing that the Wood-ranger appeared about to be leaving again, he said :
" Aren't you going to stay with me, Woodranger ? You cannot be going away ?"
" Not fur, lad. I cannot dissemble, but I s'pose I oughter go down to Goffe's. Mebbe when you get a leetle stronger, I shall have something to say to you."
" Say it now, Woodranger, I shall — "
" I durst not, lad, I durst not. Wait a leetle," and with these words he went out of the house, and a few minutes later disappeared down the road.
" I never saw him so uneasy," said Mrs. Stark.
Though Norman had not received any injuries which were likely to be permanent, he soon found that it would be several days before he should be able to leave the house. But the week that followed was not unpleasant to him. Rilma was with him, the Stark boys came into his room at their will, and twice Rob Rogers visited him. Of course he saw considerable of the Woodranger, but not as much as he wished.
The day before Christmas, in the afternoon, he was allowed to see his grandfather, whom he had not seen since that night's adventure. The Woodranger and Rilma were with them. He was surprised to find him looking so wan and feeble. But the old Highlander grasped his hand with something of his usual vigour.
" It does ma auld een guid tae gaze on thee again. Ye'll soon be hame again."
"And we shall be so glad, grandfather."
" Nay, lad, I shall ne'er return tae the auld hame. I hae had a presentiment that my day be almos' ower."
"What's that, MacDonald?" asked the Woodranger. " Are you getting childish again ? I never knew a MacDonald to die o' sich a leetle clip as that which you say is going to kill you. You are no true — "
" Zounds, sirrah ! " cried the other, suddenly starting up. " I'm no' deed yet! Get me my cane, Norman, an' let me whack him at my will. Ye' may ca' me a fule, but ye ne'er shall say I'm ne'er a true MacDonald. My faither, sirrah, was the Chief o' Glencoe! "
" So much the worse for you, MacDonald. But I'm not here to stir an amazement. It should be a day o' peace. Quiet your heart, MacDonald. I have enough to still my own. I'm sore perplexed to say what lies next my heart. The trail o' the red man is easy to follow, and the tracks o' the bear are picked up like beech-nuts arter a frost. But the whims o' the heart are spun finer than spider threads. I cannot see these to pick 'em up!"
Never had the others seen the Woodranger so excited, and they were almost startled at his appearance.
" What is it, Woodranger ?" asked Norman. " Has the old house gone, after all ? We can soon build another, and better one."
" It is o' Alick, my bonnie boy, he wishes to speak. Ye're tae tell me mair o' Alick," declared Mr. MacDonald.
" Nay, nay! I cannot dissemble longer. Lad, your father is coming home ! "
No five words that he could have spoken would have caused greater surprise. In fact, the little group gazed on him in speechless wonder. Norman was the first to break the silence :
" What do you mean, Woodranger ? "
"Just what I said, lad. Your father is living — is even now on his way here. He should have been here a week ago. I am sure he is now at Goffe's." Norman was unable to make any reply, while such thoughts as he had never known filled his mind. His first and most natural one was the inquiry made of himself : " Is Woodranger mad ? He has acted strangely for a week, is it improbable that he has at last lost his reason ? " Then he continued, in a different train : " Can it be possible father is alive and coming to me ? " Trembling from head to foot, he caught the forester by the arm, saying :
" As you love me, Woodrnnger, tell me truly what you mean. Is father living, after all ? Is he coming here ? "
" I ne'er dissemble, lad. I — "
" Forgive me, Woodranger; I did not mean to doubt you. I don't know what I did mean. But you can explain. Please do."
" It is I who should crave forgiveness, lad, for the deception I have acted, but it was my foolish way to get round the truth. I have known that Archie McNiel lived, and I have known the truth o' his life these years, but I did not know you were living here until last summer. Then I sent at once to Archie to come with all speed possible, but, to make your surprise complete, I said nothing to you. I hope you will all forgive me. I haven't prevaricated the great truth, because no one has questioned me. I — "
" Hold, man!" cried Mr. MacDonald, breaking into his speech, " d'ye dare tell me that graceless McNiel — the murderer — "
" Stop, MacDonald ! " said the Woodranger, " this is no time for your silliness. Archie McNiel comes with a name as pure as thine. Ah, far more so, for the MacDonalds, with all their boasts o' warlike deeds, can show leetle else. You have told me in your confidential moments, which I am free to confess is taking a man in his weakness, that you would receive your Alick if he came under the shadow of the gallows. He would have to come in that way if he came. Archie McNiel comes with a heart as pure and spotless as this wee lassie. Here is the proof o' what I say, which I have carried long to give you."
As the Woodranger ceased speaking, he drew from under his hunting-frock a parcel, carefully wrapped in deer skin. As he handed this to Mr. MacDonald, he said:
" I'm going once more to meet him. He'll come to-night, I'm sure. Meanwhile, watch and wait. I admonish thee, MacDonald, to receive him with open arms. It is the last written request o' thy son."
" Some one will go with you, Woodranger," said Norman. " I am sure Mr. Stark will be willing to do so."
" Nay, lad, I must go alone. He will not be over-long in coming. If I fail to come back with him, yet I will see you all sometime."
He had reached the door. Then, as if prompted by a sudden impulse, he retraced his steps, and swiftly kissed the three, Mr. MacDonald first, then Norman, and last Rilma, whom he held closely in his arms for a long minute. Putting her down then, he noiselessly left the room before one of the three could call him back.
posted by Don at 8:06 AM
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