er see me, nor the steading, nor
anything else. So he stood for a minute or more, with his hands
clenched and his head still nodding. Then he gave a gulp in his throat,
and spoke in a queer dry, rasping voice.

"When was this?" said he.

"This morning."

"Were they married?"

"Yes."

He put his hand against the door-post to steady himself.

"Any message for me?"

"She said that you would forgive her."

"May God blast my soul on the day I do! Where have they gone to?"

"To France, I should judge."

"His name was de Lapp, I think?"

"His real name is de Lissac; and he is no less than a colonel in Boney's
Guards."

"Ah! he would be in Paris, likely. That is well! That is well!"

"Hold up!" I shouted. "Father! Father! Bring the brandy!"

His knees had given way for an instant, but he was himself again before
the old man came running with the bottle.

"Take it away!" said he.

"Have a soop, Mister Horscroft," cried my father, pressing it upon him.
"It will give you fresh heart!"

He caught hold of the bottle and sent it flying over the garden hedge.

"It's very good for those who wish to forget," said he; "I am going to
remember!"

"May God forgive you for sinfu' waste!" cried my father aloud.

"And for well-nigh braining an officer of his Majesty's infantry!" said
old Major Elliott, putting his head over the hedge. "I could have done
with a nip after a morning's walk, but it is something new to have a
whole bottle whizz past my ear. But what is amiss, that you all stand
round like mutes at a burying?"

In a few words I told him our trouble, while Jim, with a grey face and
his brows drawn down, stood leaning against the door-post. The Major
was as glum as we by the time I had finished, for he was fond both of
Jim and of Edie.

"Tut, tut!" said he. "I feared something of the kind ever since that
business of the peel tower. It's the way with the French. They can't
leave the women alone. But, at least, de Lissac has married her, and
that's a comfort. But it's no time now to think of our own little
troubles, with all Europe in a roar again, and another twenty years' war
before us, as like as not."

"What d'ye mean?" I asked.

"Why, man, Napoleon's back from Elba, his troops have flocked to him,
and Louis has run for his life. The news was in Berwick this morning."

"Great Lord!" cried my father. "Then the weary business is all to do
over again!"

"Aye, we thought we were out