The Twa Miss Dawsons Part 24

"Amen. Mother, I bring heavy news to this house."

"Ah! poor soul! I dared not go in till I knew the worst. Is it long since it happened?"

"Three months and more. He was long ill, and glad to go."

"And must I tell her? Oh, if Miss Jean were here!"

"I will tell her, but I wanted you here. Does she ken that the s.h.i.+p is in?"

"She must ken, I think. But it is no' like her to go out among the throng. She's just waiting. G.o.d help her, poor woman!"

"Ay, mother, _ye_ ken."

"But, Willie--I must say one word. George Dawson? He sailed with you?"

"Yes, mother, but--"

A voice from within bade them enter, and there was time for no more. We shall not enter with them. The first tears of a childless widow suddenly bereaved, must not be looked upon by eyes indifferent. There was much to be told--much that must have made her thankful even in her bitter sorrow. But it was a painful hour to the returned sailor, and there were tears on his cheeks when at last he came out to clasp his joyful only sister at the door.

But he could not linger long. He had more to do before he returned to the s.h.i.+p.

"I must go to Saughleas," said he, as they paused at the corner where his sister must turn towards home.

"To Saughleas? Oh! Willie let me go with you," she cried clinging to him. "Mother will maybe bide with Mrs Horne a' nicht. Oh, Willie, let me go! I'll keep out o' sicht, and naebody will ken. If ye maun go, let me go with you."

"I maun go. I promised Geordie."

"Geordie? Have ye seen him? Did he sail in the 'John Seaton'? And has he come home?"

"Ye dinna mean that ye never heard that he sailed with us?"

"I never heard. Did Miss Dawson ken? It must have been that that made her e'en grow like my mother's when she looked out over the sea."

They were on their way to Saughleas by this time. They had much to say to one another. Or rather Marion had much to say, and her brother had much to hear. A few words were enough to tell all that he needed to tell until his mother should hear him also.

But Marion had to give him the news of a year and more,--the ups and downs, the comings and goings of all their friends and acquaintance; the sickness of one, the health of another; the births and deaths; the marriages past and in prospect. With the last the name of May Dawson was mentioned, and being herself intensely interested in the matter, Marion went into particulars.

"He is an Englishman; but they all like him. I like his lace. Yes, I saw him once, and Jean made me sing a song to him--'The bonny House o'

Airlie.' And auld Miss Jean likes him, she told my mother. He is no' a rich man, and folk wonder at Mr Dawson being so well pleased. But what seems strange to me is, that May should be married before her sister.

And I whiles think, that maybe if he had seen Jean first--but love goes where it is sent, they say," added Marion gravely.

"And her sister's turn will come next," said Willie.

"Oh! as to that--" said Marion, and then she was silent, adding after a little, "and _he_ was an Englishman too. May is nice, ye ken, but there's no' another in all Scotland like Jean."

They were approaching Saughleas by this time. They went slowly round the drive to the open hall door. The summer gloaming was not at its darkest yet, and there were no lights visible. As they stood for a moment at the door, they heard enough to make them aware that a messenger had preceded them.

"It's Robbie Saugster, Miss Dawson. He says he has news for you--or for Mr Dawson, I canna say which. Will you come but the house and see him?

or will I send him ben to you?"

But Jean did not need to answer. Robbie had followed his message.

"Miss Dawson, it's the 'John Seaton.' She's won safe hame. But there's ill news. It's the Captain. But I saw Willie Calderwood, and he said--"

It was hard on Robbie that after all his trouble, the telling of the news should fall to another. A heavy hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice said,--

"That'll do, Robbie, lad. I'll say my ain say."

And then Jean stood face to face with Willie Calderwood. For one wonderful moment they clasped hands and gazed into each other's eyes.

Not a word, not even the name, of George was spoken. And then came a joyful cry from May,--

"It is Willie Calderwood. Oh, Willie! Willie! Papa, the 'John Seaton'

has come."

Then there was a minute or two of confusion in the hall, hand shaking and congratulations, and then Mr Dawson ordered lights, and they went into the parlour where auld Miss Jean was sitting, for she had not moved with the rest. She drew down the young man's handsome head and kissed him.

"Oh, your happy mother!" said she softly.

But the mate of the "John Seaton" did not sit down. He stood erect beside Miss Jean's chair, with his eyes cast down upon the floor. He must go back to the s.h.i.+p at once. He would report himself at Mr Dawson's office to-morrow; he had come to-night because of a promise--

"Did I hear something about ill news?" said Mr Dawson. "Jean, what was it the laddie said about Captain Horne."

"Yes," said the sailor, "it is bad news. It is three months and more since we lost him; a heavy loss. A better sailor never sailed--nor a better man."

There was silence for a minute.

"His wife! Puir body!" said Miss Jean.

"My mother is with her," said the sailor. "They were wis.h.i.+ng for you, Miss Jean, to tell her. I almost think she kenned what was coming."

The young man seemed to forget where he was for the moment.

There were more questions asked, and more particulars given, and all the while the mate stood beside Miss Jean's chair, making his answers clear and brief, and suffering no sympathetic friendliness to soften voice or manner, except when he spoke to Miss Jean.

"And are there any more sorrowful hearts in Portie the nicht?" asked she gravely. "Did a' the lave win hame?"

"Saugster, the second mate, did not, nor two others. But n.o.body need grieve for Saugster. There was never less occasion. He'll be home all right, I hope soon."

And then he told how they had met in with an American fis.h.i.+ng vessel partially disabled from encountering a heavy storm, and far out of her course. She had lost four of her men, one of them the mate, from the capsizing of a boat. The captain was down with fever, and the s.h.i.+p was at the mercy of the winds and waves as there was no one on board who had the knowledge or skill to sail her.

"We might have taken the rest of the men on board, but it would not have been right to abandon their s.h.i.+p, and as Tam Saugster and--two others were willing to go, there was nothing to be said. I dare say they are safe in Portland harbour by this time."

Mr Dawson asked some questions as to the cargo and value of the vessel taken in charge, and the mate answered them briefly, and then he said, "And now I must go. I came to-night, because of a promise I made--"

Jean had been sitting all this time in the shadow of her lather's high-backed chair, a little out of sight. She rose now and stood gazing at the mate with dilated eyes and a face on which not a trace of colour lingered. He did not look at her, but at her father, who had risen also, ready to give his hand at parting.

"It is a letter," said the sailor. "I must give it into your own hand, as I promised George."

"George!" repeated Mr Dawson suddenly falling back into his chair again, with a face as white as Jean's.