Kelpie surveyed the four or five yards of red and green tartan wool which constituted a kilt for a small lad, and wondered how even Donald could have managed to tear such stout3 weave. “I could not be more confused than I am,” she pointed4 out, “for I am knowing nothing at all. Tell me at least a little.”
Eithne sighed and obeyed. “Well,” she began hesitantly, “you know that King Charles is King of England and Scotland both?” Kelpie nodded. “But in both countries are representative bodies of men called Parliaments, and they
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help to rule. They are supposed to agree with the things the King does, and it is the English parliament who must vote to give him things like extra money when he needs it—which he usually does.”
She paused to squint5 critically at her basting, and Kelpie waited. Somehow she had developed a great eagerness to learn about the matters which had thrown England and Scotland into civil war. “Aye, go on,” she murmured.
“Well, so. Neither King Charles nor his father before him has got along well with Parliament. King and Parliament each said the other will be trying to take more rights and power than they should have, and they became angry. Parliament would refuse to vote money for the King, so the King would dissolve Parliament, which meant that they could not meet any more to vote on anything at all until King Charles called them back, and so everyone was unhappy.”
She bit off her thread and held the shirt closer to the dim light which filtered through the thick diamond-shaped mullion panes6 of the casement7 window. “And then”—she sighed—“religion came into it. Father,” she remarked severely8, “says that religion should never be mixed with politics, but they do not listen to wise people like Father, and so there is trouble.”
“What has religion to do with it?” asked Kelpie curiously9. She had never known anything of religion for herself, only that the stern Kirk of the Lowlands had severe
[75]
views on all other faiths, on fun and laughter, and most particularly on witches. But the Anglican services here at Glenfern seemed peaceful and vaguely10 pleasant, even though she did not understand them.
“Och!” protested Eithne, but Kelpie’s face was implacable, so she went on. “Well, the Catholics and Protestants do not like each other, and especially the Protestants of the new Reformed Church, like the Puritans in England and the Calvinist Covenanters in Scotland—and we Anglicans caught in the middle. King Charles is Anglican, but the Parliament is mostly Puritan, I think. At any rate, they were very angry when the King married Queen Henrietta, who is a Roman Catholic and said she would turn the country all Catholic and burn Protestants at the stake. And the Catholics said the Protestants were trying to rule the country and force their religion on everyone, and so it was a fine braw quarrel for years, with religion and politics all mixed together.”
Kelpie carefully selected a strand12 of wool to match the soft, dull red of the Cameron tartan. This was the most difficult bit of mending she had yet been trusted with. “Mmm,” she murmured after a minute, turning her mind back to the conversation. “And then?”
It was Eithne’s turn to pause, while the rain beat against the casement windows. Wee Mairi turned from her doll to lift a merry smile in the direction of “her Kelpie,” who felt a new pang13 of affection. Och, the bonnie wee thing!
[76]
Eithne scowled14 at the shirt and then glanced up at Kelpie with a rueful shrug15. “Ou, I cannot mind me of all the details.” She sighed again. “But the quarrel turned into fighting.”
“But what of Scotland?” demanded Kelpie. “What had it to do with us at all?”
“Why,” interrupted the dry voice of Alex, “King Charles himself must be bringing that on!” They looked up to see him standing16 in the doorway17, a shirt in his hand and a wry18 grin on his angular face. “Scotland might have been loyal to him, even though all the Lowlands are Calvinist, and even more rigid19 than the Puritans, but he had the bright idea of forcing the Anglican prayer book on Scotland. And the next thing he knew, there was a Solemn League and Covenant11 formed against him, and Scotland divided as England was, with Lowlands against the King, and most of the Highlands loyal to him.”
Eithne looked both relieved and worried, while Kelpie studied Alex’s expression in the dim light, not quite certain if he were teasing or not. She decided20 not—for once. There was a faint note of bitterness in his voice. “I thought you were a King’s man!” she challenged him.
“I am so,” he returned promptly21 and unpropped himself from the doorway. “Look you, Eithne,” he went on, crossing the room to her. “I have ripped my shirt sorely and am needing a bonnie sweet lass to mend it for me.”
Eithne tilted22 her chestnut23 curls at him and wrinkled up
[77]
her nose in an impish grin. “If I do,” she said, bargaining, “will you be explaining the rest of the war to Kelpie?”
“Dhé!” said Alex and raised both eyebrows24 at Kelpie.
“She is truly wanting to know,” said Eithne sternly, “so do not be teasing her, Alex. And I am gey muddled25 about it, and you knowing so much more, with having been at Oxford26 and even seeing the King and his family yourself. Will you?”
“’Tis a hard bargain,” complained Alex, “and I am thinking I pity the man who will one day marry you, Eithne m’eudail.” He perched on the corner of the massive table, his kilt falling in heavy folds about his lean knees. “Well, then, and what bit of my great knowledge should I be sharing with you first?”
Kelpie gave him a wicked pointed smile. “Tell me,” she said softly, “in one word, just, what are they fighting for?”
“My sorrow!” exclaimed Alex, straightening up as if he had sat on a thistle. “Is that all?”
“Don’t you know?” asked Kelpie tauntingly28. “I will tell you, then. They’re fighting for power. Is it not so?”
Alex resumed his perch27 and surveyed her ruefully. “Och, and are you not the young cynic!” he observed. “And you have shocked my foster sister, too.” For Eithne was looking both dismayed and indignant. Both girls had forgotten their sewing for the moment and sat staring at Alex challengingly, waiting for his opinion.
He laughed. “I fear me I shall anger you both,” he
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remarked, “and go through the rest of my life with an evil spell on my head and a tom sleeve in my shirt.”
“Well?” demanded Kelpie.
Alex gave her a crooked29 grin. “Sorry I am to agree with you even in part,” he confessed, “but no doubt some men are fighting for power. No, no, Eithne,” he added as she opened her mouth. “Do not deny it too quickly. What about Argyll?”
Eithne subsided30.
“On the other hand, Alex avic, there is Montrose.” It was Ian. He pulled up a hassock and ranged himself quietly but firmly on Eithne’s side.
“Montrose?” asked Kelpie.
“Aye,” said Ian, turning his warm smile upon her. “James Graham of Montrose, and he one of the finest, truest men under the sun. He it is who is named to fight for the King’s cause in Scotland, even to form and organize the army. And he is fighting for no selfish reason whatever, but only for what he believes to be right. Alex cannot deny it, for we both met and talked to him last winter in Oxford.”
“Indeed and I’ll not deny it,” agreed Alex amiably31, “though Kelpie might. My point was just that all men are not like Montrose, and my proof of it is still Argyll. Och, and have you done, my sonsie Eithne?” he added as she held up the mended shirt. “Come away, then, Ian, and let’s be outside. I believe the sun is going to come out.”
And they were gone before Kelpie could ask about Argyll.
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Perhaps it was as well, she decided, going back to her mending. For she really thought she had heard quite as much as she could absorb all in one lump.
Eithne flickered32 a mischievous33 sideways glance at her. “And wasn’t I warning you ’twas complicated?” she murmured.
As if by tacit agreement, no one brought up matters like war and politics for some time. After all, it was easy enough, in that peaceful, secluded34 glen, to put such things far out of mind. Kelpie’s free hours were full enough, as spring days became longer, with other things. Wee Mairi tagged along with her, a self-appointed guardian35, and the glenspeople had learned to hide their hostility36 when Mairi was there. The twins were insatiably hungry for more stories—and so, for that matter, were the older young people. Books were rare and precious, and mostly devoted37 to serious and difficult subjects. And, as Ian generously remarked on a sunny afternoon by the loch, Kelpie was a master at telling tales.
Alex grinned impishly. “She is that!” he agreed with a wicked twinkle in his eye and a double meaning to his voice which Kelpie chose to ignore.
“Next time I will tell you about the sithiche (fairies) of Loch Maree—if you are all very kind to me,” she said blandly38 and glanced impudently39 at Alex.
She sat on alone by the loch for a little while after the
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others had left, thinking about things. How Alex had changed since she first met him! He was much nicer than she had thought. And she had begun to like his teasing and mockery, for it was all good-humored.... Or was it perhaps herself had changed? And if so—She rolled over to lie full-length on her face in the fragrant40 long grasses and pondered. Then, lazily, she stretched until her head was over the edge of the loch.
What was her real self like? Had that changed? Could it?
The bank at this point rose abruptly41 about two feet above the glassy surface of the water, with tough curling roots of heather overhanging the edge. Kelpie reached down skillfully, scooped42 up a handful of the cold water, and drank it from her palm before it could run through her fingers. The surface rippled43 slightly and returned to its mirror stillness, with sky, hills, and trees reflected so clearly that it would be hard to tell the reflection from the real. Or was one, perhaps, as real as the other?
She stared down at her own face, still looking indecently bare with all the thick dark hair pulled back into plaits. Was that any less real—or more—than the scenes she saw in Mina’s crystal?
And then it was no longer her own face she was seeing, but a town street and an ugly-tempered crowd surging down it. Not merely annoyed, that crowd, but murderous.
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Kelpie shivered a little, for she knew too well how bestial44 a mob could be. And this one had a victim, for there was savage45 satisfaction in the grim Lowland faces above their sober Covenanter garments, pressing closer and closer.... And there was Ian! Whatever could he be doing in the Lowlands? Pushing through the crowd, he was; and Alex came after, shouting at him, his angular face all twisted with fury. And now they were closer, and Alex was catching46 up to Ian.... Alex was lifting his sword, and through the crowd Kelpie could see him bring it down savagely47.... Dhé! Ian had fallen, his dark head vanished in the throng48! And Alex’s sword with blood on it!
Kelpie jerked with horror, and a bit of dry heather plopped into the water—and the picture was gone. Nor did it return, though she waited, staring at the still water and brooding bitterly.
Dhé! That serpent Alex! She had never liked him from the beginning! And now he was going to turn on his foster brother, strike him down from behind, perhaps kill him—for the Sight never lied.
She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter to her, but it was too late. Ian had crept into her heart, and Wee Mairi, and the rest of them. Even Alex, deceitful scoundrel that he was, had somehow tricked her into liking49 him—for a while, anyway. But now she knew better. Och, she
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must try to warn Ian! Even if he could not prevent it, perhaps he could be on his guard, could put off the evil day of it, could duck in time to save his life.
Dismayed, angry, resolute50, Kelpie got to her feet, smoothed down the full folds of her blue dress, and started back up the loch.
Now what, wondered Alex, had got under the skin of their wolf cub51 lately? For there was a new venom52 toward himself—and after he had been thinking her nearly tamed, too. Aye, a wolf cub: belligerent53, cunning, snarling54, biting, thieving, destructive—and yet innocent, as a wolf cub is innocent because it knows nothing else.
But she had been changing. She had been learning trust and affection, even to play and tease. And now, suddenly, there was a new and deadly hatred55 smoldering56 at him from those ringed eyes. It was puzzling, it was, and rather less amusing than her old spitting indignation had been; and even though it could hardly be a tragedy to him, still it was disconcerting. Alex kept a wary57 eye on her, lest she should decide to take her sgian dhu to his back.
As for Kelpie, she found the business of warning Ian a bit harder than it had seemed. For one thing, it was none so easy to find him alone, for he and Alex were usually together and about their own affairs, while Kelpie had her
[83]
tasks in the house. In the evenings the family sat together in the withdrawing room, which was not Kelpie’s place. The big warm kitchen, or her wee cot in Marsali’s room, was where she belonged, or—more often—away by herself outside, in the pale half-light of the long northern gloaming. For summer was drawing near, and darkness now merely brushed down late upon the world and, like a gull’s wing, quickly lifted.
So she glared at Alex and did her tasks and kept her eyes and ears open and bided58 her time. And at last Alex went off for a few days to visit his brother in Ardochy. And the next evening Kelpie, on one of her rambles59, saw Ian on the hill above her, quietly looking down over the glen.
Kelpie drew near, and then paused. Och, a braw lad he was! But how might she be approaching him best? It might be he wanted to be alone. Before she could decide, Ian saw her, smiled, beckoned60, his face oddly blurred61 in the half-light that turned all things gray. She sat beside him and for a minute followed his gaze over the long shadowed cup of the glen, lit by the silver gleam of Loch nan Eilean.
Finally Ian stirred and spoke62. “I wish I might never need to leave it again,” he said wistfully.
Did he love it so? Kelpie dimly sensed that he did; but she did not understand, for she herself had no roots to her
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heart, but only a wanderlust to her feet. “And must you, then?” she asked. Why could Ian not be doing as he pleased, since he was the heir to Glenfern?
“Aye so,” he said, a bit more briskly. “For I must finish my schooling63 if I am to be a fit chieftain and leader to my people. However”—he brightened considerably—“I think we’ll not be able to return to Oxford for some time, with the war moving northward64 and becoming more serious, and Argyll endangering all the Highlands.”
Now was the moment for her to warn him about Alex. But it was also a chance to ask about Argyll and put off the more difficult thing. “Tell me about Argyll!” she urged.
Ian turned to look at her with friendly interest. “You’ve a good head on you, haven’t you, Kelpie? Mother says you’re quick to learn and that you speak English as well as Gaelic. Are you truly interested in national affairs, then?” Kelpie nodded.
“Well, then,” began Ian, “you know who Argyll is, do you not? Mac Cailein Mor, Chief of Clan65 Campbell in the Highlands, and also head of the Covenant Army of the Lowlands. So he has that power added to the power of his own clan, and he uses it ill, Kelpie. He is a vicious man, cruel, ambitious, and vindictive66.”
Kelpie could not resist a gibe67. “And is he not also a Campbell, and his clan at feud68 with yours?” she remarked.
Ian flushed. Even in the dusk she could see it. “’Tis not
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that!” he protested. “I am not one to hate a man for his name, Kelpie! And in any case, my own uncle married a Campbell lass; and the son of Lochiel, our own clan chief, married Argyll’s sister, and we are anxious to be at peace. But Argyll, devil that he is, wishes to dictate69 his own terms entirely70. Do you know what he has done, Kelpie? He has taken his nephew Ewen—Lochiel’s own grandson, who will be chief of the Camerons some day—and is keeping him at his own castle of Inverary. He says he wishes to see to his education—and I can guess what kind of education ’twill be—but do you see that Ewen is hostage for Lochiel’s actions? And if Lochiel dares to take the side of the King against Argyll—”
“Mmmm,” said Kelpie, seeing.
“Nor is it just our clan,” Ian went on, deep anger in his voice. “He was commissioned to secure the Highlands for the Covenant, which is bad enough, for we have not tried to inflict71 our politics or religion on them. But Argyll has used his commission and the Lowland army to settle his private grudges72. He burned the great house of Airly, with no enemy there but a helpless woman. And he burned and ravaged73 the lands of MacDonald of Keppoch, and is even now laying waste the lands of Gordon of Huntly. They say he would make himself King Campbell, and a black day for Scotland if he should.”
Kelpie remembered the face she had seen once in the crystal, which Mina had called Mac Cailein Mor, Marquis
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of Argyll. A cold, cruel face it had been, with twisted sneering74 mouth, a heavy and pendulous75 nose, and a squint in the crafty76 eyes of him, so that one couldn’t be just sure what he was looking at.
“Aye,” she agreed suddenly. “He is a red-haired uruisg. I have been seeing him helping77 with his own hands to fire the homes and burn people too.” She didn’t add that the people burned were accused of witchcraft78, as this might not be a tactful thing to mention.
“You’ve seen that?” exclaimed Ian.
“In the crystal, only,” confessed Kelpie. “I was also seeing him mounting the scaffold to be hanged,” she remembered with relish79. “But,” she added regretfully, “he was looking much older then.”
“Dhé!” exclaimed Ian, deeply impressed. “I did not know you were having the Second Sight, Kelpie.”
“Aye,” said Kelpie. And here was her opening. “Ian!” she blurted80, quite forgetting to give him a respectful title. “You must not be trusting Alex MacDonald.”
“Not trust Alex?” Ian turned a dumfounded face to hers. And then he laughed. “Och, Kelpie, there is no one in the world I trust better! We are sworn brothers, and if my life were to rest in the two hands of him, there is no place I would sooner have it.”
“And you would lose it, then,” said Kelpie flatly. “For I had a Seeing, and his sword fell upon you from behind,
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and you fell. And there was anger on his face and blood upon his sword.”
Ian’s face was a pale blob in the dusk, and she could not see it turn white—and yet she knew, somehow, that it did. For the Second Sight never lied.
And in spite of that, Ian shook his head. “I cannot believe it, Kelpie,” he said quietly. “It is a mistake, for the sun would fall from the sky before Alex could be untrue.”
Kelpie thrust an angry face, long eyes glittering, close to his. “You think I am lying, but I am not. I would have been warning you, even though it is of no profit to me, whatever. But it is a spell he has cast upon you! And,” she added bitterly, “you will be discovering it too late.”
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1
basting
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| n.疏缝；疏缝的针脚；疏缝用线；涂油v.打( baste的现在分词 )；粗缝；痛斥；（烤肉等时）往上抹[浇]油 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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squint
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| v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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panes
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casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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covenant
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| n.盟约，契约；v.订盟约 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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tilted
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chestnut
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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Oxford
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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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tauntingly
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| 嘲笑地，辱骂地； 嘲骂地 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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devoted
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blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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impudently
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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bestial
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| adj.残忍的；野蛮的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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48
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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cub
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| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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bided
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| v.等待，停留( bide的过去式 )；居住；等待；面临 | |
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rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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gibe
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| n.讥笑；嘲弄 | |
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feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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grudges
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| 不满，怨恨，妒忌( grudge的名词复数 ) | |
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ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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pendulous
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| adj.下垂的；摆动的 | |
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crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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witchcraft
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| n.魔法，巫术 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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