“Run! Go instantly after those horses! That is Lord Balnillo!” she cried, pointing to the riders, who were mounting the rise beyond the burn. “Tell him to return at once. Tell him he must come back!”
He shook off her grip and ran. He was a corner-boy from Brechin and he had a taste for sensation.
Madam Flemington went back into her room. Mysie followed her, whimpering still, and she pushed her outside and sank down in her large chair. She could not watch the window, for fear of going mad.
She sat still and steady until she heard the thud of bare feet on the stone steps, and then she hurried out.
“He tell’t me he wadna bide,” said the corner-boy breathlessly. “He was vera well obliged to ye, he bad’ me say, but he wadna bide.”
Christian left him and shut herself into the room, alone. Callandar’s bald lines had overpowered her completely, leaving no place in her brain for anything else. But now she saw her message from Lord Balnillo’s point of view, and anger and contempt flamed up again, even in the midst of her trouble.
“The vanity of men! Ah, God, the vanity of men!” she cried, throwing out her hands, as though to put the whole race of them from her.
[CHAPTER XXV
A ROYAL DUKE]
THE Duke of Cumberland was at Holyrood House. He had come down from the North by way of Stirling, and having spent some days in Edinburgh, he was making his final arrangements to set out for England. He was returning in the enviable character of conquering hero, and he knew that a great reception awaited him in London, where every preparation was being made to do him honour; he was thinking of these things as he sat in one of the grim rooms of the ancient palace. There was not much luxury here; and looking across the table at which he sat and out of the window, he could see the dirty roofs of the Canongate—a very different prospect from the one that would soon meet his eyes. He was sick of Scotland.