Then the country was so lovely all around the Hall. Though lacking the grandeur and romance of our Scottish Highlands, the land of the broads, with its wealth of wild flowers, its dreamy, quiet lakes, its waving reeds, its moors, and its birds, throws a glamour over one in spring-time that no true lover of nature can resist.
Jack’s arm was well in a month, and he was waiting for service. He did not mind waiting even a little longer, and most assuredly Tom Fairlie did not, nor MʻHearty either, who was also a guest at the Hall. Richards also had come down to spend a week or two. He and MʻHearty became inseparables.
A great old tub of a boat belonged to Mackenzie, and this lay on an adjoining broad or lake. Tom and Jack fitted it out as a kind of gondola, and many a pleasant hour did the young folks spend together on the water, sometimes not returning till stars were reflected from the dark bosom of the lake or the moonbeams seemed to change it into molten gold.
A pleasant time indeed—a time that flew all too quickly for poor Tom Fairlie.
One evening, when hanging up his hat in the hall, Jack’s father took him by the hand and led him silently into the library.
“Father, father,” cried Jack, “what has happened?”
“A bolt from the blue, my boy; a bolt from the blue.”