This conversation was overheard by the gentle Dione, who was, in no small degree, interested in the affair propounded by her parents. She now knew, for certain, their intentions in regard to the disposal of her hand; and, while her judgment disapproved of their scheme, which was unfair towards the simple-minded (so she termed him) Heatherton, and cruel to herself, her feelings rebelled against a union with the gamboge-coloured old Indian, who had already ogled her into a sympathetic jaundice. The process of her thoughts was extremely favourable to calling forth a strong interest in favour of Nashon, whom she had never seen, but whom she figured to herself as a plain, good-looking man (as indeed he was), whose simplicity was about to be taken advantage of, for her sake, by his property being unjustly wrested from him and given to her, as a dowry, on the occasion of her marriage with a man she hated. Simple as she herself was, she felt inclined to counteract these ambitious and unjustifiable intentions; and, if Nashon Heatherton had been known to her, and in any way worthy of her affections, she would (so she theorised) have thrown herself into the arms of the new laird of Outfieldhaugh, saved him from ruin, and herself from an interminable grief.
The intensity of her feelings, called up by what she had overheard, and inflamed by the workings of her own mind, drove her into the surrounding woods of Eyrymount, where she might weep unobserved; and the excited state of her feelings sought relief by the natural means of speaking out her thoughts. She was overheard by Nashon. They spoke. An explanation took place, and that sympathy which follows often on mutual knowledge, led the way to love. He learned from her her own unhappy position, and the intentions of her father to ruin him, for the purpose of securing Outfieldhaugh. Proceeding homewards, he thus monologized:—
“An’ sae Eyrymount wants to ride me to the devil that he may get Outfieldhaugh! He maun be ignorant o’ the siller I got as the auld laird’s executor, besides the estate as his heir. Let him remain in his ignorance, an’ we’ll see wha will ride langest an’ wha’ll keep strongest. My neck has as mony liths in’t as Eyrymount’s craig; an’ if he canna get Oldfieldhaugh except by stretchin mine, I’ll no’ get his dochter Dione without gien his a thraw. Can onybody blame me? Am I no fechtin him wi’ his ain weapons? and, besides, are we no strugglin for the same object—the junction o’ the twa estates that hae been owre lang separated?”
Continuing his train of thought farther than we think it necessary to record it, Nashon arrived at Outfieldhaugh House, at the door of which he met Esther Maclean, who presented to him a face so full of expression, that the ideas seemed to be struggling in all parts of it to get down to her mouth for vent. It was clear that something pertaining to the Eyrymount family had occurred during the few hours’ absence of her master; for few other subjects could have produced such a mute loquacity as her moving wrinkles exhibited when Nashon entered.
“Your threat to big spinnin mills on the Well Burn has biggit your respectability, guid sir,” she exclaimed. “Read that, and then tak a turn into the stable.”
Esther handed to Nashon, as she spoke, a letter from Madame Græme, finely perfumed, the sight and smell of which produced a convulsion in the old simple frame of mind of the quandam hind, which he did not care about exhibiting even to Esther. The application of his large coarse fingers to the single drop of scented green wax with which the note was sealed, produced a mysterious kind of feeling of awe without a visible cause, which was entirely new to him; and the great array of Cupids and roses stamped on the margin of the fine hot-pressed paper, completed the effect of this mute Ariel from the regions of high life. The note was as follows:—
“Mr. and Mrs. Græme, of Eyrymount, present their respects to Mr. Nashon Heatherton, and request the honour of his company to dinner at Eyrymount, on Wednesday se’enight, the 15th instant, at five o’clock.”
On the other side of the note were a few lines, in another and a bolder hand, to this effect.—
“Mr. Græme, who has had already the honour of conversing with Mr. Heatherton, presumes upon his character of feudal superior of Outfieldhaugh, to mark the introduction of a new vassal by some trifling consideration; and therefore, and as the Soho Club meet for the purpose of paying their respects to Mr. Reynard to-morrow at the Shaking Bridge over the Hazel Burn, he requests Mr. Heatherton’s acceptance of his favourite hunter, Springall, and the pleasure of his company at the chase.”
“My auld maister wad hae tauld me what was in the letter,” said Esther, turning up her eyes expressively into the face of Nashon.