“Paralyses! Pure nonsense!” cried Vedder, whose face was wet with passionate tears, though he did not know it. “Paralyses! No, no! It must make them work miracles. I am going to Edinburgh tomorrow. I am going to buy all the luxuries and medicines I can afford for the lads fighting and suffering. Sunna is going to spend a week in gathering old linen in Kirkwall and then Mistress Brodie and she will bring it with them. Rahal, Thora, you must do your best. And thou, Conall?”

“Adam, thou can open my purse and take all 190 thou thinks is right. My Boris may be among those dear lads; his mother will have something to send him. Wilt thou see it is set on a fair way to reach his hand?”

“I will take it to him. If he be in London with his vessel, I will find him; if he be at the front, I will find him. If he be in Scutari hospital, I will find him!”

“Oh, Adam, Adam!” cried Rahal, “thou art the good man that God loves, the man after His own heart.” Her face was set and stern and white as snow, and Thora’s was a duplicate of it; but Ragnor, during his short interval of rest, had arrived at that heighth and depth of confidence in God’s wisdom which made him sure that in the end the folly and wickedness of men would “praise Him”; so he was ready to help, and calm and strong in his sorrow.

At this point, Rahal rose and a servant came in and began to clear the table and carry away the remains of the meal. Then Rahal rose and took Thora’s hand and Ian went with them to the parlour. She spoke kindly to Ian who at her first words burst into bitter weeping, into an almost womanly burst of uncontrollable distress. So she kissed and left him with the only woman who had 191 the power to soothe, in any degree, the sense of utter helplessness which oppressed him.

“I want to go to the Crimea!” he said, “I would gladly go there. It would give me a chance to die happily. It would repay me for all my miserable life. I want to go, Thora. You want me to go, Thora! Yes, you do, dear one!”

“No, I do not want you to go. I want you here. Oh, what a selfish coward I am. Go, Ian, if you wish––if you feel it right to go, then go.”

This subject was sufficient to induce a long and strange conversation during which Thora was led to understand that some great and cruel circumstances had ruined and in some measure yet controlled her lover’s life. She was begging him to go and talk to her father and tell him all that troubled him so cruelly when Rahal entered the room again.

“Dear ones,” she said, “the house is cold and the lamps nearly out. Say good night, now. Ian must be up early––and tomorrow we shall have a busy day collecting all the old linen we can.” She was yet as white as the long dressing gown she wore but there was a smile on her face that made it lovely as she recited slowly:

192 “Watching, wondering, yearning, knowing
Whence the stream, and where ’tis going
Seems all mystery––by and by
He will speak, and tell us why.”