The same instant she vanished, for the tunnel was
now quite dark. Malcolm turned with a sigh, and
took his way slowly homeward along the top of the
dune. All was dim about him—dim in
the heavens, where a thin veil of gray had gathered
over the blue; dim on the ocean, where the stars swayed
and swung, in faint flashes of dissolving radiance,
cast loose like ribbons of seaweed: dim all along
the shore, where the white of the breaking wavelet
melted into the yellow sand; and dim in his own heart,
where the manner and words of the lady had half hidden
her starry reflex with a chilling mist.
CHAPTER XXIV: THE FEAST
To the entertainment which the marquis and Lady Florimel
had resolved to give, all classes and conditions in
the neighbourhood now began to receive invitations—shopkeepers,
there called merchants, and all socially above them,
individually, by notes, in the name of the marquis
and Lady Florimel, but in the handwriting of Mrs Crathie
and her daughters; and the rest generally, by the
sound of bagpipes, and proclamation from the lips of
Duncan MacPhail. To the satisfaction of Johnny
Bykes the exclusion of improper persons was left in
the hands of the gatekeepers.
The thing had originated with the factor. The
old popularity of the lords of the land had vanished
utterly during the life of the marquis’s brother,
and Mr Crathie, being wise in his generation, sought
to initiate a revival of it by hinting the propriety
of some general hospitality, a suggestion which the
marquis was anything but loath to follow. For
the present Lord Lossie, although as unready as most
men to part with anything he cared for, could yet cast
away magnificently, and had always greatly prized a
reputation for liberality.
For the sake of the fishermen, the first Saturday
after the commencement of the home fishing was appointed.
The few serious ones, mostly Methodists, objected
on the ground of the proximity of the Sunday; but
their attitude was, if possible, of still less consequence
in the eyes of their neighbours that it was well known
they would in no case have accepted such an invitation.
The day dawned propitious. As early as five o’clock
Mr Crathie was abroad, booted and spurred—now
directing the workmen who were setting up tents and
tables; now conferring with house steward, butler,
or cook; now mounting his horse and galloping off to
the home farm or the distillery, or into the town
to the Lossie Arms, where certain guests from a distance
were to be accommodated, and whose landlady had undertaken
the superintendence of certain of the victualling
departments; for canny Mr Crathie would not willingly
have the meanest guest ask twice for anything he wanted—so
invaluable did he consider a good word from the humblest
quarter —and the best labours of the French
cook, even had he reverenced instead of despising
Scotch dishes, would have ill sufficed for the satisfaction
of appetites critically appreciative of hotch potch,
sheep’s head, haggis, and black puddings.
