Part 13 (1/2)

So when Captain Agnew clattered through the village in clean-cut scarlet and clinking spurs, all the maids ran to the door, except only a few who had once run like the others but now ran no more.

The captain came often to Craig Ronald. It was upon his way to kirk and market, for the captain for the good of his soul went occasionally to the little chapel of the Permission at Dumfries.

Still oftener he came with the books which the Lady Elizabeth obtained from Edinburgh, the reading of which she shared with Mistress Walter Skirving, whose kins.h.i.+p with the Lochinvars she did not forget, though her father had been of the moorland branch of that honourable house, and she herself had disgraced her ancient name by marrying with a psalm-singing bonnet laird. But the inexplicability of saying whom a woman may not take it into her head to marry was no barrier to the friends.h.i.+p of the Lady Elizabeth, who kept all her religion for her own consumption and did not even trouble her son with it--which was a great pity, for he indeed had much need, though small desire, thereof.

On the contrary, it was a mark of good blood sometimes to follow one's own fancy. The Lady Elizabeth had done that herself against the advice of the countess her mother, and that was the reason why she dwelt amid hangings that came away in handfuls, and was waiting-maid to Mistress Humbie her own housekeeper.

Agnew Greatorix had an eye for a pretty face, or rather for every pretty face. Indeed, he had nothing else to do, except clean his spurs and ride to the market town. So, since the author of Waverley began to write his inimitable fictions, and his mother to divide her time between works of devotion and the adventures of Ivanhoe and Nigel, Agnew Greatorix had made many pilgrimages to Craig Ronald. Here the advent of the captain was much talked over by the maids, and even antic.i.p.ated by Winsome herself as a picturesque break in the monotony of the staid country life.

Certainly he brought the essence of strength and youth and athletic energy into the quiet court-yard, when he rode in on his showily paced horse and reined him round at the low steps of the front door, with the free handling and cavalry swing which he had inherited as much from the long line of Greatorixes who had ridden out to harry the Warden's men along the marches, as from the yeomanry riding-master.

Now, the captain was neither an obliging nor yet a particularly amiable young man, and when he took so kindly to fetching and carrying, it was not long before the broad world of farm towns and herds' cot-houses upon which Greatorix Castle looked down suspected a motive, and said so in its own way.

On one occasion, riding down the long loaning of Craig Ronald, the captain came upon the slight, ascetic figure of Allan Welsh, the Marrow minister, leaning upon the gate which closed the loaning from the road. The minister observed him, but showed no signs of moving. Agnew Greatorix checked his horse.

”Would you open the gate and allow me to pa.s.s on my way?” he said, with chill politeness. The minister of the Marrow kirk looked keenly at him from under his grey eyebrows.

”After I have had a few words with you, young sir,” said Mr.

Welsh.

”I desire no words with you,” returned the young man impatiently, backing his horse.

”For whom are your visits at Craig Ronald intended?” said the minister calmly. ”Walter Skirving and his spouse do not receive company of such dignity; and besides them there are only the maids that I know of.”

”Who made you my father confessor?” mocked Agnew Greatorix, with an unpleasant sneer on his handsome face.

”The right of being minister in the things of the Spirit to all that dwell in Craig Ronald House,” said the minister of the Marrow firmly.

”Truly a pleasant ministry, and one, no doubt, requiring frequent ministrations; yet do I not remember to have met you at Craig Ronald,” he continued. ”So faithful a minister surely must be faithful in his spiritual attentions.”

He urged his horse to the side of the gate and leaned over to open the gate himself, but the minister had his hand firmly on the latch.

”I have seen you ride to many maids' houses, Agnew Greatorix, since the day your honoured father died, but never a one have I seen the better of your visits. Woe and sorrow have attended upon your way. You may ride off now at your ease, but beware the vengeance of the G.o.d of Jacob; the mother's curse and the father's malison ride not far behind!”

”Preach me no preachments,” said the young man; ”keep such for your Marrow folk on Sundays; you but waste your words.”

”Then I beseech you by the memory of a good father, whom, though of another and an alien communion, I shall ever respect, to cast your eyes elsewhere, and let the one ewe lamb of those whom G.o.d hath stricken alone.”

The gate was open now, and as he came through, Agnew Greatorix made his horse curvet, pus.h.i.+ng the frail form of the preacher almost into the hedge.

”If you would like to come and visit us up at the castle,” he said mockingly, ”I dare say we could yet receive you as my forefathers, of whom you are so fond, used to welcome your kind. I saw the thumbikins the other day; and I dare say we could fit you with your size in boots.”

”The Lord shall pull down the mighty from their seats, and exalt them that are of low estate!” said the preacher solemnly.

”Very likely,” said the young man as he rode away.

CHAPTER XV.

ON THE EDGE OF THE ORCHARD.

But Agnew Greatorix came as often as ever to Craig Ronald.