“What!” exclaimed Charley, energetically. “By all the saints in the calendar, but that were an interpretation indeed! I thank thee, Rosa, for thy augury. Trust me, if it lacks accomplishment, in due time, it shall not be my fault. Though I have been turned over into the dirt, by him to whom I should have looked for countenance and support, to encourage me in a nobler career—by him to whom I reasonably looked for the education befitting a soldier,—thanks to mine honest patron, Sir Piers, I am not now altogether in want of it. Thanks, moreover, be to God, that I have never done anything which may, with reason, make my father ashamed of me. And, with the blessing of Saint Andrew on this arm of mine, I may yet live to earn those honours, which his indifference towards me would have denied me.”
Rosa did not altogether enjoy perfect ease of mind after Charley Stewart had left her. She thought, with some pride to be sure, of the nobleness of that spirit which she had thus seen blaze up within him. But she felt that she had now the dread responsibility of having thus roused it; and all a woman’s fears for the consequences were awakened in her bosom. Nor was the happiness of the days that followed increased by this accidental conversation. For now, she rarely or ever saw him, in whose society her whole life had hitherto glided on with so much felicity. Alice Asher too, had her complaints to make of her son’s frequent and long absence from her; and the only consolation the maiden had, was in frequently visiting the mother of Charley Stewart—to talk over his merits—a theme of which neither of them were very likely to tire—and to sigh for his presence.
Meanwhile Charley was almost constant in his attendance upon Sir Piers Gordon; and he very soon distinguished himself so much in all the accomplishments of a soldier, that he became the most cherished and favoured of the old soldier’s followers. But this was not all; for, unknown to himself, and altogether without any effort on his part, he found especial favour in the sight of Marcella Gordon, niece, and acknowledged heiress of his patron, Sir Piers. This was a lady, by no means uncomely, though of most uncommonly masculine manners and mind, who, at any time, would have much preferred to witness a fray, or even to take her share in it, than to sit down to a feast, or to mix in a dance or a masking party. She became smitten with Charley Stewart for his martial acquirements, bold bearing in his saddle, and hardihood at all times; and for all these he well merited her admiration.
Sir Piers Gordon and his party were one day returning from an expedition, which had been suddenly undertaken in pursuit of some Catteranes, whom, as being public marauders, and general enemies to all, he had, without scruple, followed across the territories of the Stewart of Stradawn. He passed at no great distance from the humble dwelling of Mrs. MacDermot.
“So please thee, Sir Knight,” said Charley Stewart to Sir Piers, “I will turn aside a brief space to yonder cottage, to say a few words to an old friend, whom I have not seen for many a day; and I will join thee again ere thou hast ridden a long mile.”
“I care not if I go with thee, Charley,” said Sir Piers; “that is, if thy friend’s house can furnish me with a draught of any thing better than water, for my throat is parched like a mountain corry in the dog-days.”
“Such as that humble roof may afford, I think I may venture to promise thee,” replied Charley, somewhat disappointed at being so attended.
“I shall go with thee too,” said Marcella Gordon, who, on this occasion, had followed her uncle in his expedition.
The men-at-arms having been halted by the road-side, Charley led the way to the widow’s cottage. As he rode forth from among the trees of the birch-grove, that flanked one side of the house, and partly shaded half its front, Rosa’s quick eyes caught his figure—her heart bounded with joy, and in a moment she was at the door, and, from the first irresistible impulse of her heart, she almost sprang into his arms; but immediately perceiving that her lover was not alone, she blushed, and hastily retreated within doors.
“Is that your sister, young man?” demanded the Lady Marcella.