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- Джон Бакен
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His
crusading
fury
,
too
,
had
sensibly
abated
,
for
part
of
his
wrath
against
witchcraft
had
been
due
to
his
own
awe
of
the
Wood
and
his
disgust
at
such
awe
.
Now
the
place
was
a
shelter
for
a
friend
,
and
a
meeting
-
ground
with
one
he
loved
,
and
the
cloud
which
had
weighed
on
him
since
he
first
saw
it
from
the
Hill
of
Deer
gave
place
to
clear
sky
.
Men
might
frequent
Melanudrigill
for
hideous
purposes
,
but
the
place
itself
was
innocent
,
and
he
wondered
with
shame
how
he
came
ever
to
think
that
honest
wood
and
water
and
stone
could
have
intrinsic
evil
.
Nightly
,
in
the
light
mists
of
the
late
September
,
when
pine
trees
stood
up
out
of
vapour
like
mountains
,
and
the
smell
of
woodland
ripeness
was
not
yet
tinged
with
decay
,
David
and
Katrine
threaded
the
aisles
and
clambered
among
the
long
bracken
,
till
a
pinpoint
of
light
showed
from
beside
a
rock
and
was
presently
revealed
as
Kerr
’
s
bivouac
.
They
would
sit
late
with
him
,
listening
to
his
tales
and
giving
him
the
news
of
the
glens
,
while
owls
hooted
in
the
boughs
and
from
the
higher
levels
came
the
faint
crying
of
curlews
.
There
was
much
business
to
be
done
between
Mark
and
Calidon
-
-
business
of
Nicholas
Hawkshaw
’
s
,
who
had
been
duly
put
to
the
horn
,
and
over
whose
goods
,
by
the
intrigues
of
Mistress
Grizel
,
a
friendly
curator
had
been
appointed
,
and
business
of
his
own
anent
the
tack
of
Crossbasket
-
-
and
Katrine
carried
daily
messages
by
letter
and
by
word
of
mouth
.
When
his
leg
was
healed
there
was
a
certain
polish
to
be
given
to
his
appearance
,
and
the
ladies
of
Calidon
were
busy
with
their
needles
.
When
he
left
his
lair
at
last
it
was
just
before
dawn
-
-
on
foot
,
with
a
blue
coat
instead
of
the
hodden
grey
of
Isobel
’
s
goodman
,
and
four
miles
on
the
Edinburgh
road
Jock
Dodds
from
Calidon
waited
with
a
horse
for
him
.
David
would
fain
have
had
the
leg
prove
troublesome
,
that
the
time
of
hiding
in
the
Wood
might
be
prolonged
,
for
that
season
passed
for
him
with
the
speed
of
a
too
happy
dream
.
To
be
with
Katrine
was
at
all
times
bliss
,
but
to
be
her
partner
on
these
dark
journeys
and
in
these
midnight
conclaves
was
a
rapture
of
happiness
.
If
he
had
lost
his
awe
of
the
Wood
,
he
had
lost
also
the
sense
that
in
letting
his
heart
dwell
on
the
girl
he
was
falling
away
from
duty
.
The
standards
of
the
Kirk
meant
the
less
to
him
since
he
was
in
declared
controversy
with
its
representatives
,
and
a
succourer
by
stealth
of
its
enemies
.
His
canons
of
conduct
were
dissolving
,
and
in
their
confusion
he
was
willing
to
surrender
himself
to
more
ancient
instincts
.
The
minister
was
being
forgotten
in
the
man
and
the
lover
.
The
lover
-
-
though
no
word
of
love
was
spoken
between
the
two
.
They
were
comrades
only
,
truant
children
,
boy
and
girl
on
a
Saturday
holiday
.
It
was
a
close
companionship
,
yet
as
unembarrassed
as
that
of
sister
and
brother
.
In
her
presence
David
caught
her
mood
,
and
laughed
with
it
,
but
when
absent
from
her
he
was
in
a
passion
of
worship
.
The
slim
green
-
gowned
figure
danced
through
his
waking
hours
and
haunted
his
dreams
.
He
made
no
plans
,
forecast
no
future
;
he
was
in
that
happy
first
stage
of
love
which
is
content
to
live
with
a
horizon
bounded
by
the
next
meeting
In
such
a
frame
of
mind
he
may
have
grown
careless
,
for
he
did
not
see
what
Isobel
saw
.
His
housekeeper
,
brisk
with
the
consciousness
of
a
partnership
with
her
master
in
things
unlawful
and
perilous
,
and
under
the
glamour
of
Katrine
’
s
gentrice
and
beauty
,
was
as
unquiet
as
a
hen
with
a
brood
of
young
ducks
on
the
pond
’
s
edge
.
She
clucked
and
fussed
,
and
waited
for
David
’
s
return
in
an
anxious
tempest
.
"
There
’
s
queer
ongaein
’
s
in
this
bit
,
"
she
told
him
.
"
When
I
hearken
in
the
sma
’
hours
I
hear
feet
trailin
’
as
saft
as
a
tod
’
s
[
fox
]
,
and
whiles
a
hoast
[
cough
]
or
a
gant
[
yawn
]
which
never
cam
’
frae
a
tod
’
s
mouth
.
And
yestreen
when
ye
set
out
,
sir
,
there
was
something
slipped
atween
the
birks
and
the
wa
’
and
followed
.
I
wish
it
mayna
be
your
deid
wraith
.
"
He
pooh
-
poohed
her
fears
,
but
on
the
last
night
,
when
he
parted
from
Katrine
in
Paradise
,
and
according
to
his
custom
watched
her
figure
as
,
faint
in
the
moonlight
,
it
crossed
a
field
of
bracken
above
Rood
,
he
saw
something
move
parallel
to
her
in
the
fern
.
On
his
way
home
,
too
,
as
he
passed
the
kirkton
road
in
the
first
light
,
there
was
a
rustling
among
the
elders
,
and
a
divot
fell
mysteriously
from
the
turf
dyke
.
He
dreamed
that
night
that
he
was
being
spied
upon
,
and
next
day
-
-
with
no
more
meetings
with
Katrine
before
him
to
fire
his
fancy
-
-
his
cold
reason
justified
the
fear
.
The
conviction
was
presently
confirmed
by
a
discovery
of
Isobel
’
s
.
Mark
Kerr
’
s
cast
clothes
had
been
hidden
at
first
in
the
gloom
of
the
rafters
in
David
’
s
camceiled
bedroom
,
but
the
coming
of
Leslie
’
s
troops
compelled
her
to
change
this
place
of
disposal
to
the
stable
,
where
,
in
the
space
between
the
wall
and
the
thatch
,
she
bestowed
them
,
wrapped
stoutly
in
sacking
.
She
kept
an
eye
on
the
bundle
,
and
one
morning
it
had
disappeared
.
More
,
it
had
clearly
been
stolen
and
hurriedly
opened
,
for
the
sacking
and
a
tarry
rope
which
bound
it
were
found
among
the
nettles
beyond
the
kirkyard
wall
.
Compromising
goods
indeed
to
come
forth
of
a
minister
’
s
house
!
That
same
day
Isobel
returned
from
a
visit
to
her
cousin
with
a
queer
tale
.
"
Something
’
s
gotten
out
,
sir
.
The
wives
in
the
kirkton
are
clatterin
’
like
daws
.
’
What
’
s
this
they
tell
me
,
gossip
,
’
says
one
,
’
about
Babylonish
garments
found
in
the
manse
?
’
’
Faith
,
I
kenna
,
’
says
I
.
’
They
’
re
nane
o
’
my
findin
’
,
but
wi
’
roarin
’
sodgers
quartered
in
ilka
chamber
ye
’
ll
no
surprise
me
if
some
unco
gear
were
left
behind
.
’
’
But
it
’
s
nae
honest
gear
o
’
Davie
Leslie
’
s
lads
,
’
she
says
,
’
but
the
laced
coats
and
plumit
hats
o
’
the
malignants
.
And
there
’
s
a
report
that
ithers
hae
sleepit
in
the
manse
this
past
se
’
nnight
than
our
ain
Covenant
sodgers
.
’
’
Wha
tell
’
t
ye
that
,
my
wumman
,
’
I
says
,
’
was
a
black
leear
,
and
a
thief
forbye
.
I
’
d
like
brawly
to
ken
wha
has
been
snowkin
’
round
our
doors
and
carryin
’
awa
’
leein
’
tales
and
maybe
some
o
’
our
plenishin
’
.
Tell
me
the
names
,
and
,
man
or
wumman
,
I
’
ll
hae
my
fingers
at
their
lugs
.
’
It
was
Jean
of
the
Chasehope
-
fit
that
spoke
to
me
,
and
she
got
mair
frae
me
than
she
expeckit
.
There
wasna
ane
o
’
her
auld
misdaein
’
s
I
didna
fling
in
her
teeth
.
"
