“Whisht, my dear—the officer? Do you mean the exciseman, Katie? It might very well be him, without making any difference to us.”
“I’m sure it’s him—the man that came to Norlaw yesterday!” cried Katie, triumphantly, hastening the good doctor along the by-road at a pace to which he was not accustomed. “Something’s happened! Oh papa, be quick and let us on.”
“Canny, my dear, canny!” said Dr. Logan. “I fear you must be mistaken, Katie; but if you’re right, I’m very glad to think that Melmar must have seen the error of his way.”
Katie was very indifferent about Melmar; but she pressed on eagerly, full of interest to know what had happened at Norlaw. When they came in sight of the house, it was evident by its changed aspect that things were altered there. The windows were open, the blinds drawn up, the sunshine once more entering freely as of old. The minister went forward with a mind perturbed; he did not at all comprehend what this could mean.
The door was opened to them by Marget, who took them into the east room with a certain solemn importance, and who wore her new mourning and her afternoon cap with black ribbons, in preparation for visitors.
“I’ve got them a’ persuaded to take a rest—a’ but Huntley,” said Marget; “for yesterday and last night were enough to kill baith the laddies and their mother—no’ a morsel o’ meat within their lips, nor a wink of sleep to their e’en.”
“You alarm me, Marget; what does all this mean?” cried Dr. Logan, waving his hand towards the open windows.
Katie, more eager and more quick-witted, watched the motion of Marget’s lips, yet found out the truth before she spoke.
“The maister’s funeral,” said Marget, with a solemn triumph, though her voice broke, in spite of herself, in natural sorrow, “took place yestreen, at midnicht, sir, as there was nae other way for it, in the orderings of Providence. Maister Huntley arranged it so.”
“Oh, poor boys!” cried Katie Logan, and she threw herself down on a chair, and cried heartily in sympathy, and grief, and joy. Nothing else was possible; the scene, the circumstances, the cause, were not to be spoken of. There was no way but that way, of showing how this young heart at least felt with the strained hearts of the family of Norlaw.