Soon shall bear me o'er the sea; Hark! the trumpet loudly sounding, Calls me far from love and thee.
"Summer flowers shall cease to blossom, Streams run backward from the sea; Cold in death must be this bosom Ere it cease to throb for thee.
"Fare thee well--may every blessing Shed by Heaven around thee fa'; One last time thy lov'd form pressing-- Think on me when far awa'."
"If you would keep song in your hearts," says a writer of genius, "learnto sing. There is more merit in melody than most people are aware of.Even the cobbler who smoothes his wax-ends with a song will do as muchwork in a day as one given to ill-nature would do in a week. Songs arelike sunshine, they run to cheerfulness, and fill the bosom with suchbuoyancy, that for the time being you feel filled with June air or likea meadow of clover in blossom."
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How lonely the gardens and the Hall itself seemed to Annie now that herlover had gone, and how sad at heart was she!
Well, and how reluctant am I myself to leave all these pleasant scenes,and bring before the mind's eye an event so terrible and a deed so darkthat I almost shudder as I describe it; but as the evolution of thisower-true tale depends upon it, I am obliged to.
First, I must tell you that just two days before joining his ship,Reginald had to go to Aberdeen to see friends and bid them adieu.
But it happened that Craig Nicol had made a visit on foot to Aberdeenabout the same time. Thirty, or even forty, miles was not too much fora sturdy young fellow like him. He had told his housekeeper a weekbefore that he was to draw money from the bank--a considerable sum, too.
This was foolish of him, for the garrulous old woman not only boasted tothe neighbouring servants of the wealth of her master, but even toldthem the day he would leave for the town.
Poor Craig set off as merrily as any half-broken hearted lover could beexpected to do. But, alas! after leaving Aberdeen on his homewardjourney, he had never been seen alive again by anyone who knew him.
As he often, however, made a longer stay in town than he had firstintended, the housekeeper and servants of Birnie-Boozle were not for atime alarmed; but soon the assistance of the police was called in, withthe hopes of solving the mystery. All they did find out, however, wasthat he had left the Granite City well and whole, and that he had calledat an inn called the Five Mile House on the afternoon to partake of somerefreshment. After that all was a dread and awful blank. There was nota pond, however, or copse along from this inn that was not searched.Then the river was dragged by men used to work of this sort.
But all in vain. The mystery remained still unrevealed. Only thepolice, as usual, vaunted about having a clue, and being pressed toexplain, a sergeant said:
"Why, only this: you see he drew a lot of cash from the bank in notesand gold, and as we hear that he is in grief, there is little doubt inour minds that he has gone, for a quiet holiday to the Continent, oreven to the States."
Certain in their own minds that this was the case, the worthy policeforce troubled themselves but little more about the matter. Theythought they had searched everywhere; but one place they had forgottenand missed. From the high road, not many miles from Birnie-Boozle, aroad led. It was really little more than a bridle-path, but itshortened the journey by at least a mile, and when returning from townCraig Nicol always took advantage of this.
Strange, indeed, it was, that no one, not even the housekeeper, hadthought of giving information about this to the police. But thehousekeeper was to be excused. She was plunged deeply in grief. Sheand she only would take no heed of the supposed clue to the mystery thatthe sergeant made sure he had found.
"Oh, oh," she would cry, "my master is dead! I know, I know he is. Ina dream he appeared to me. How wan and weird he looked, and hisgarments were drenched in blood and gore. Oh, master, dear, kind, goodmaster, I shall never, never see you more!" And the old lady wrung herhands and wept and sobbed as if her very heart would break.
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Reginald's ship had been about two days at sea. The wind was fair andstrong, so that she had made a good offing, and was now steering southby west, bearing up for the distant shores of South America.
And it was now that a discovery was made that appalled and shockedeveryone in all the countryside.
CHAPTER SIX.
A VERDICT OF MURDER.
About half-way up the short cut, or bridle-path, was a dark, dingyspruce-fir copse. It was separated from the roads by a high whitethornhedge, trailed over with brambles, the black, shining, rasp-like fruitof which were now ripe and juicy. They were a great attraction to thewandering schoolboy. Two lads, aged about eight or ten--greatfavourites with Craig's housekeeper--were given a basket each in theforenoon and sent off to pick the berries and to return to tea aboutfour o'clock.
There was a gate that entered from the path, but it was seldom, if ever,opened, save probably by the wood-cutters.
Well, those two poor little fellows returned hours and hours beforetea-time. They were pale and scared-looking. In their terror they hadeven dropped their baskets.
"Oh, the man! the man!" they cried, as soon as they entered. "The poor,dead man!"
Although some presentiment told the aged housekeeper that this mustindeed be the dead body of her unhappy master, she summoned courage torun herself to the police-station. An officer was soon on the fatalspot, guided by the braver of the two little lads. With his big knifethe policeman hacked away some of the lower branches of the spruce-fir,and thus let in the light.
It was indeed Craig, and there was little doubt that he had been foullymurdered. But while one officer took charge of the corpse, he did nottouch it, but dispatched another to telegraph to Aberdeen at once for adetective. He arrived by the very next train, accompanied by men with aletter. The news had spread like wildfire, and quite a crowd had bythis time gathered in the lane, but they were kept far back from thegate lest their footsteps should deface any traces of the murder. Eventhe imprint of a shoe might be invaluable in clearing up an awfulmystery like this. Mr C., the detective, and the surgeon immediatelystarted their investigations.
It was only too evident that Craig Nicol had been stabbed to the heart.His clothes were one mass of gore, and hard with blood. On turning thebody over, a discovery was made that caused the detective's heart topalpitate with joy. Here, underneath it, was found a Highlander's_skean dhu_ (stocking dirk). The little sheath itself was found at adistance of a few yards, and it must evidently have been dropped by themurderer, in his haste to conceal the body.
"Ha! this is indeed a clue," said the detective. "This knife did thedeed, George. See, it is encrusted with blood."
"I think so, sir."
"And look, on the silver back of the little sheath are the letters R.G."
He took the dagger in his hand, and went back to the little crowd.
"Can anyone identify this knife?" he asked, showing it to them.
No one could.
"Can you?" said the detective, going to the rear and addressingShufflin' Sandie. Sandie appeared to be in deep grief.
"Must I tell?"
"You needn't now, unless you like, but you must at the inquest."
"Then, sir, I may as well say it now. The knife belongs to MrGrahame."
A thrill of horror went through the little crowd, and Sandy burst intotears.
"Where does he live, this Mr Grahame?"
"He did live at Bilberry Hall, sir," blubbered Sandie; "but a few daysago he sailed away for the Southern Seas."
"Was he poor or rich, Sandie?"
"As poor as a church mouse, sir. I've heard him tell Miss Annie Laneso. For I was always dandlin' after them."
"Thank you; that will do in the meantime."
Craig had evidently been robbed, for the pockets were turned inside out,and another discovery made was this: the back of the coat was cove
redwith dust or dried mud, so that, in all human probability, he must havebeen murdered on the road, then dragged and hidden here. There was aterrible bruise on one side of the head, so it was evident enough to thesurgeon, as well as to the detective, that the unfortunate man mustfirst have been stunned and afterwards stabbed. There was evidence,too, that the killing had been done on the road; there were marks of thegravel having been scraped away, and this same gravel, blackened withblood, was found in the ditch.
The detective took his notes of the case, then calling his man,proceeded to have the man laid on the litter. The body was not takenhome, but to the barn of an adjoining cottage.
Here when the coroner was summoned and arrived from Aberdeen, part ofthe inquest was held. After viewing the body, the coroner and jury wentto Birnie-Boozle, and here more business was gone through.
The housekeeper was the