The Weatherhouse. Nan Shepherd
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said, ‘I’ll put on my coat and take these children home. I’m sure to meet her on the way.’
Like Lindsay, she had the sense of escaping into light. She went along with a skipping step, her heart rejoicing; and almost forgot that she had come to look for a runaway whose absence caused concern.
She delivered over the children to Francie, who shut the door on them and said, ‘I’ll show you a sight, if you come up the park a bit.’ Mrs Falconer followed, caring little where she went in that universal faerie shimmer. It seemed to her that she was among the days of creation, and light had been called into being, but neither divisions of time nor substance, nor any endeavours nor disturbances of man.
‘What think you o’ that in a Christian country?’ Francie was asking; and Mrs Falconer saw, as Lindsay had seen, the blazing lights of Knapperley.
‘What a strange pale beauty they have,’ she said, ‘in the moonlight.’
‘Beauty, said ye?’ echoed Francie, with supreme scorn. ‘It’s a beauty I can do fine wantin’ in a war-time, and all them Zepps about.’
‘Hoots, Francie,’ said Mrs Falconer, recovering herself, ‘it’s as light as day. The house lights ’ll make little difference in the sky tonight.’
‘I’ve seen that lights, Mrs Falconer, in the darkest night o’ winter. It’s nae canny. She’ll come by some mishaunter, ay will she, ay will she that.’
‘A fine, maybe. Don’t you worry, Francie. If she carries on like that the police ’ll soon put a stop to her cantrips.’
Francie went away muttering. Mrs Falconer returned home, having forgotten to look very hard for the runaway. Lindsay was still absent.
‘You can’t have looked sore all the time you’ve been,’ said Theresa.
Ellen did not, of course, confess that she had forgotten the girl. She said, ‘What harm can she come to? She’s gone out to see the moon.’
‘Fiddlesticks and rosit! Everybody’s not so daft about a view as you.’
‘I’ll go again,’ said Ellen, nothing loth; but as she opened the door Lindsay arrived, running.
She was plainly in terror, and throwing herself on the sofa broke into sobbing.
‘Whatever made you want to go there?’ they asked when she told where she had been.
‘I don’t know,’ sobbed Lindsay. She was like a little frightened child, and very lovely in her woe. They made much of her, and miscalled Bawbie Paterson to their hearts’ content.
Lindsay told her story over again to Kate, when Kate had arrived home for the night and the girls were in the windowed room that Kate shared habitually with her mother. Ellen had yielded her tower to the guest.
‘They wanted to know why I went, Katie, but they mustn’t. Oh, I wish she weren’t like that—she’s dreadful.’
‘But you needn’t go near her, need you?’
Lindsay began to laugh and to sob. ‘Katie,’ she whispered, ‘she’s his aunt, you know.’
Kate was silent from astonishment.
She had heard her aunt’s account of Mrs Andrew Lorimer’s story—‘Captain Dalgarno,’ Mrs Andrew had said.
‘I see,’ she said at last. Captain Dalgarno was therefore Garry Forbes.
‘Mother told you about me, didn’t she? Didn’t she, Katie? She had no right—they treat me like a child. She did say, didn’t she?’
‘I wasn’t here, Linny. Yes, she said.’
‘Said what? How much, Katie? Oh, I couldn’t bear them to know that was why I ran after her. I wanted to see—Do you suppose they know, Katie?’
‘I am sure they don’t. But is it secret, Linny?’
‘No. But running after her like that—’ She began to writhe on the bed. ‘I’m so unhappy, Katie.’
‘Yes,’ said Kate.
Kate was dumb before emotion. Her own was mastered and undivulged. She remained silent while Lindsay sobbed, and in a while the girl grew quiet, and fell asleep.
But Kate, after her young cousin slept, stole out of bed and crossed the room. Bending, she pulled the cover over Lindsay’s naked arm. ‘In this frost—she’d starve.’ And for a moment Kate stood looking down on the flushed young face. So this was the woman whom Garry Forbes had chosen. Kate returned to bed and went to sleep. She had a long day’s work ahead of her and a long day’s work behind; and lying awake brought scanty profit.
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