‘Gently, my dear Hermie!’ said Reggie; ‘he’s not the only historical personage who has killed, or tortured, for the glory of God; but the whole affair is plunged in lamentation, mourning, and [394] ]woe. I vote we leave for Scotland by the early train to-morrow.’
‘By the very earliest,’ Eric agreed. ‘Another day here would send us back to Hexham—despairing of life, and fit for nothing but suicide.’
‘All the same, moors and heaths have their redeeming features,’ insisted Vanda. ‘Don’t you remember how Justice Inglewood calls Die Vernon his “heath-blossom,” when, pulling her towards him by the hand, he says: “Another time let the law take its course—and, Die, my beauty! let young fellows show each other the way through the moors”?’
‘All very well for Die Vernon, with a blood mare to ride, and a cavalier like Frank Osbaldistone to gallop about with her. But think of three lonely girls, with not even a wicked cousin, like Rashleigh, to fight with, or a delightful, handsome, romantic one like Frank, to fall in and out of love with! But now I think the Brontë experience has gone far enough. Let us agree that the incident is closed. We make an early start to-morrow.’
‘And so say all of us,’ chorused the rest of the party.
[395]
]CHAPTER XVIII
The next departure was made successfully. From Yorkshire to Scotland is no great distance, though the wanderers did not cross the moors to Hawkstone Craig, but proceeded by the more modern route of Keighley and Sheffield.
Behold the pilgrims then, by the kind offices of the steam king, whose miracles Sir Walter regarded with ‘half-proud, half-sad, half-angry, and half-pleased feelings,’ landed within walking distance of Abbotsford, and its haunting, magical memories of the Wizard of the North. They gazed with awe, and almost adoration, at the towers and turrets, pinnacles and mouldings of the famous abode of the more famous owner and designer. It seemed to these ardent spirits not so much a house, a family abode, as an enchanted Arabian Nights Palace, compact of the flesh and blood, the brain and spiritual essence of him whose pride and life-work it was. They were able to find suitable lodging accommodation in the vicinity, whence they could sally forth and live, so to speak, in that wondrous company of knights and nobles, mediæval barons, Normans and Saxons, [396] ]kings and queens, lovely heroines, and all the dramatis personæ of historical romance. They therefore, without delay, conceived and carried out the project of ‘viewing fair Melrose aright.’
As it happened, the day had been doubtful, but towards evening the wind dropped, and the night being cloudless, and resplendent with the full radiance of the harvest moon, they had taken all proper precaution to be deposited as nearly as possible at the exact spot where the imagined spectator of ‘St. David’s ruined pile’ would have located himself.
It was a night superbly beautiful—mild, calm, free from all disturbing influences, and permitting our pilgrims the fullest freedom to gaze on a scene at once romantic and inspiring, free from all such interruptions as might be expected in the light of day.