"We had been waiting some time, when Sir David whispered to me that the birds were coming, and crouched down under the wall of the butt. His loader was kneeling behind him ready to hand him his second gun, with two cartridges stuck between his fingers to reload the first one. We were all intent on the grouse, and no one noticed that that wretched dog had worked his head out of his collar and was roaming about behind us. Just at that moment a mountain hare came lolloping along the crest of the hill, and, deceived by the stillness, came to a pause just opposite us and sat up on its hind legs to brush its whiskers with its paw. Its toilette didn't last long, however, for by that time the dog had caught its wind, and with a series of yelps had hurled itself upon it. The hare was off in a second, and away they went, straight down the line, the dog making as much noise as a whole pack of hounds as he bounded and leapt over the thick heather. Sir David started up with an exclamation of dismay, and I, too, stood up and looked over the top of the butt. Following the direction of his eyes, I saw clouds of grouse streaming away to the left, all turning as they came over the hill, and wheeling away from us towards the north.
"The drive was absolutely spoilt. The hare and its pursuer had by this time gone the whole length of the butts, and looked like going till Christmas. Lord Ashiel had come out into the open, and we saw him put his gun to his shoulder. The dog gave one last leap, and rolled over before the report reached our ears. It was a quarter of a mile away from us."
Juliet paused; she was out of breath; they had been walking fast and were within sight of the castle gates. The way led along the side of Loch Ashiel, and the castle rose in front of them on a tall rocky promontory, which jutted far into the water.
"Let us rest here a few minutes," said Gimblet. "It is too much to ask you to talk while we are walking up that hill, and I don't want you to leave out any details, however unimportant they may appear to you."
CHAPTER VIII
They had reached a place where a wide horseshoe of beach ran down to the loch. For more than a week there had been no rain to speak of. The season as a whole had been dry, and the water was very low; tufts of grass dotted the shore; brambles and young alders were springing up bravely, determined to make the most of their time. At the back stretched a meadow, part of which had been cut for hay; the rest of it was so full of weeds and wild flowers, ragweed, burdock and the red stalks of sorrel, that it had been left untouched, and filled the foreground with colour. The grass had gone to seed and turned a rich reddish purple; beneath it grew wild geraniums whose leaves were already scarlet. Bluebells and scabious made a haze of mauve, and everywhere the warm, sandy stalks of the dried grasses shone yellow through the patch.
They sat down at the edge of the beach and leant back against the overhanging turf. Opposite to them the little town of Crianan clung to the steep rocks below Ben Ghusy, the houses looking as if they stood piled one on top of another in a rough pyramid; and the whole surmounted by the high walls and tower of the Roman Catholic monastery which dominated the scene, and always seemed to Juliet to wear a look of stern defiance, as if it were offering a challenge to that other fortress that frowned back at it. She could imagine the monks in the old days, standing on its parapet and daring the Lords of Inverashiel to do their worst. Far away down the loch lay the hills, scarce more deeply grey than the water; beyond them more distant tops melted into the sky. The grey ripples lapped gently on jagged shingle, and a persistent housefly buzzed loudly round their heads; at that hour there were as yet few midges, and it was very peaceful, very solitary, very desolate.
"I don't know," said Juliet, going on with her story where she had left off, "which was more angry, Lord Ashiel or Sir David. After the first few minutes, in which they both said things I am sure they regretted afterwards, neither of them would speak to the other, and it was a very uncomfortable evening for every one. The next day was better. Colonel Spicer and Sir George left by the morning train, both going on to shoot in other parts of Scotland. Mrs. Clutsam went away too; she had some one coming to stay with her at her own house near by. Both the young men went stalking on different parts of the forest, and Lord Ashiel and I, with the two other girls, spent the morning on the loch trolling for salmon; but we didn't get a rise.
"In the afternoon I walked up the river with Julia Romaninov; we talked about our schooldays. She had been at school in Germany, and I in Switzerland. After a while she got tired and went home, but I went on by myself, for I had a lot of things to think of, and was glad to be alone. I came at last to a great pool among the rocks, where the river comes down in a fall from far above in a cloud of spray and foam. I stood on a stone at the water's edge and watched the trout rising in the pool. The river was low and the water very clear. Standing on the rocks above it, it seemed as if I could see every pebble at the bottom, except where they were hidden in the ripples which spread away from beneath the fall. The pool is like the bottom of a well; high rocks rear themselves round it to a great height; they are veiled in a greenness of fern and moss, and near the top many trees have found a roothold in the crevices and bend forward towards each other over the water, as divers poise themselves before leaping down. Through a narrow opening opposite the fall the river makes its way onward. As I stood there a stone must have come down from the heights above. I did not see it, and the noise of the waterfall deadened any sound of its descent, but suddenly I felt a heavy blow between the shoulders, and I must have tumbled forward into the pool below.
"The next thing I remember was looking up into the anxious friendly face of Andrew Campbell, one of the ghillies at Inverashiel. It seemed to be hanging above me in the sky, which was the only other thing I could see, and I wondered vaguely why I saw it upside down. My head was aching cruelly and I couldn't imagine what was the matter, though I was too weak and faint to care. To cut my adventure short, Andrew had come to a pool lower down the river just as I floated into it on top of the current; he had fished me out, and was now restoring me to life again. I was got back to the house, how I hardly know, put to bed, and actually wept over by Lord Ashiel. By the evening I had so far recovered that I was able to come down to dinner, though I should not have done so if it had not been for the anxiety of my host, as my head still felt as if it was going to split. I received many congratulations on my escape, and Lord Ashiel, when he spoke of it, was so much moved that every one was quite embarrassed, and I myself was touched beyond expression at the affection he did not attempt to conceal. He was very silent after that, but in spite of him dinner that night was a merry meal. Every one was in the best of spirits, or else assumed them for the time being. We all joked and laughed over my adventure, and Mr. McConachan said I bore a charmed life, since I had escaped being killed by his careless shot, and now the river refused to drown me. It was not till the servants had left the room, and we were preparing to do the same, that Lord Ashiel spoke again.