It was from Mr. Kenneth Kippilaw, W.S., who had seen the marriage announced in a public print, and had written at once to Florian and to Lord Fettercairn.
When Abou Hassan, the merchant of Bagdad, woke up on that remarkable morning, and he found himself in the palace of Haroun al Raschid, and treated as the latter by all the beautiful ladies of the Court, and the black slaves around his couch, he was scarcely more astonished than our poor Lieutenant of Infantry, when he found himself to be the heir of Craigengowan and Fettercairn!
He then knew all about Shafto's villainy, yet in the gentleness of his spirit he joined with Dulcie in saying:
'Poor creature! God help and forgive him, as freely as I do.'
Sooth to say, Dulcie was perhaps less astonished on finding Florian was the true heir; she had ever thought there was some mystery in the new position and new relationship, so suddenly assumed by the wily Shafto, whose tissue of falsehoods had, as usual in such cases, broken down by an unthought-of point.
Amid the sudden splendour of his prospects, such was his simplicity of character, that one of Florian's first thoughts was of a cosy cottage at Craigengowan for his comrade Tom Tyrrell!
The news spread like wildfire through all the Mearns, Angus, and everywhere else. It proved a great godsend, and the vicinity of Inverbervie was besieged by folks connected with the press, all eager to glean the last authentic information from Craigengowan, and even Grapeston, the butler, and MacCrupper, the head groom, were interviewed and treated—the former with wine, and the latter copiously with whisky and water—on the subject.
To Lady Fettercairn the marriage of Florian proved, of course, a cause of bitter mortification.
'Another mesalliance—like father, like son!' she exclaimed; 'now indeed we shall be associated with Freethinkers, franchise folks, dynamiters, and all kinds of dreadful people!' she wailed out.
The first alleged and hurriedly accepted heir had proved a ruinous blackleg; the second and true one was Flora MacIan's son beyond all doubt—a gallant young fellow, who had 'gone through the ranks to a commission!' but, alas! he had married Dulcie Carlyon—the Devonshire lawyer's daughter—her 'companion,' whom she had treated with no small contumely at Craigengowan, where she was now to be welcomed as a bride and the future Lady Fettercairn!