"Weel," he went on, "her an' me 's been coortin' this twa year; an' guid freen's we aye was till this last spring, whan a' at ance she turnt highty-tighty like, nor, du what I micht, could I get her to say what it was 'at cheengt her: sae far as I kenned I had dune naething, nor wad she say I had gi'en her ony cause o' complaint.
But though she couldna say I had ever gi'en mair nor a ceevil word to ony lass but hersel', she appeart unco wullin' to fix me wi' this ane an' that ane or ony ane! I couldna think what had come ower her! But at last--an' a sair last it is!--I hae come to the un'erstan'in o' 't: she wud fain hae a pretence for br'akin' wi' me!
She wad hae 't 'at I was duin' as she was duin' hersel'--haudin' company wi' anither!"
"Are you quite sure of what you say?" asked Donal.
"Ower sure, sir, though I'm no at leeberty to tell ye hoo I cam to be.--Dinna think, sir, 'at I'm ane to haud a lass til her word whan her hert disna back it; I wud hae said naething aboot it, but jist borne the hert-brak wi' the becomin' silence, for greitin' nor ragin' men' no nets, nor tak the life o' nae dogfish. But it's God's trowth, sir, I'm terrible feart for the lassie hersel'. She's that ta'en up wi' him, they tell me, 'at she can think o' naething but him; an' he's a yoong lord, no a puir lad like me--an' that's what fears me!"
A great dread and a great compassion together laid hold of Donal, but he did not speak.
"Gien it cam to that," resumed Stephen, "I doobt the fisher-lad wud win her better breid nor my lord; for gien a' tales be true, he wud hae to work for his ain breid; the castel 's no his, nor canna be 'cep' he merry the leddy o' 't. But it's no merryin' Eppy he'll be efter, or ony the likes o' 'im!"
"You don't surely hint," said Donal, "that there's anything between her and lord Forgue? She must be an idle girl to take such a thing into her head!"
"I wuss weel she hae ta'en 't intil her heid! she'll get it the easier oot o' her hert? But 'deed, sir, I'm sair feart! I speakna o' 't for my ain sake; for gien there be trowth intil't, there can never be mair 'atween her and me! But, eh, sir, the peety o' 't wi' sic a bonny lass!--for he canna mean fair by her! Thae gran' fowk does fearsome things! It's sma' won'er 'at whiles the puir fowk rises wi' a roar, an' tears doon a', as they did i' France!"
"All you say is quite true; but the charge is such a serious one!"
"It is that, sir! But though it be true, I'm no gaein' to mak it 'afore the warl'."
"You are right there: it could do no good."
"I fear it may du as little whaur I am gaein' to mak it! I'm upo' my ro'd to gar my lord gie an accoont o' himsel'. Faith, gien it bena a guid ane, I'll thraw the neck o' 'im! It's better me to hang, nor her to gang disgraced, puir thing! She can be naething mair to me, as I say; but I wud like weel the wringin' o' a lord's neck! It wud be like killin' a shark!"
"Why do you tell me this?" asked Donal.
"'Cause I look to you to get me to word o' the man."
"That you may wring his neck?--You should not have told me that: I should be art and part in his murder!"
"Wud ye hae me lat the lassie tak her chance ohn dune onything?" said the fisherman with scorn.
"By no means. I would do something myself whoever the girl was--and she is the granddaughter of my best friends."
"Sir, ye winna surely fail me!"
"I will help you somehow, but I will not do what you want me. I will turn the thing over in my mind. I promise you I will do something--what, I cannot say offhand. You had better go home again, and I will come to you to-morrow."
"Na, na, that winna do!" said the man, half doggedly, half fiercely.
"The hert ill be oot o' my body gien I dinna du something! This verra nicht it maun be dune! I canna bide in hell ony langer. The thoucht o' the rascal slaverin' his lees ower my Eppy 's killin' me!
My brain 's like a fire: I see the verra billows o' the ocean as reid 's blude."
"If you come near the castle to-night, I will have you taken up. I am too much your friend to see you hanged! But if you go home and leave the matter to me, I will do my best, and let you know. She shall be saved if I can compass it. What, man! you would not have God against you?"
"He'll be upo' the side o' the richt, I'm thinkin'!"
"Doubtless; but he has said, 'Vengeance is mine!' He can't trust us with that. He won't have us interfering. It's more his concern than yours yet that the lassie have fair play. I will do my part."
They walked on in gloomy silence for some time. Suddenly the fisherman put out his hand, seized Donal's with a convulsive grasp, was possibly reassured by the strength with which Donal's responded, turned, and without a word went back.
