Harry Muir

“ It seems that Harry has found at last the life suitable for him. Though the snow lies heavy on the sullen brow of Demeyet, and every blade of grass on the lawn is crisped into distinct identity, and the burn is frost-bound under the trees, and an icy hand restrains the tinkling springlet of the Lady’s Well, Harry never fails to visit his fields. ”

“ Like a man on the smooth incline of some frightful downright slope, he seemed to lose all power after the first impetus was given, and went sheer down without a pause or stay. Poor Harry! if he was sullen sometimes, at other some there came to him bursts of exceeding tenderness, remorseful and pathetic, as if his better angel was weeping within him, over his ruin; but still he went down—clutching at the flowers which waved over the edge of the precipice, and darting down its rapid incline with their torn blossoms in his hand ”

“ Harry, be canny; God sometimes appoints us a hard school when we are slow of the uptake in an easy one. But you need not gloom—auld men get license of advising, and ye mind how the cottar ‘mixes a’ with admonition due.’”
“Yes,” said Harry laughing, “I am fated to have counsellors—for yonder is our old Dragon who has no objection to give me the benefit of his experience too.”
Alexander Muir slightly erected his white head with a single throb of injured feeling; for with all his natural and gracious humility, he did not choose to come down to the level of the poor old Dragon of Allenders ”

“ Charteris was a little prejudiced. She shook her head: “It is not so easy to make a gentleman, Cuthbert; the transition from sixty pounds a-year to five [100] hundred, though it must be very comfortable, no doubt, will never accomplish that.”
“Harry Muir, mother,” said Cuthbert, “is not a wise man by any means—at five and twenty, I scarcely think I was very wise myself—but Harry Muir with his sixty pounds, is a gentleman already. I am afraid Dick Buchanan would suffer very greatly, if you saw them together, and compared the two.” ”

“ He breathed freely. It seemed to him, as from a listener, he became a partaker in the conversation of Lindsay and Charteris, that this was indeed a new life, a bracing atmosphere, such as he had not known before. He became quiet at first—somewhat serious even—and looking up upon an April sky, and down upon the great stream chafing and foaming in the little vessel’s course, there came upon him the abstraction of a gentle reverie, picturing the times to come!
The times to come! Harry saw honour, wealth, independence, happiness, in a bright crowd before him. ”

“ Charteris,” said uncle Sandy; “if you had come while Harry was here it might have been pleasanter for [182] you—for Harry, poor man, is a blithe companion; maybe over blithe sometimes for his own well-doing: And you think the bairns would be better with me?”
“Nay,” said Charteris, hastily, “except in so far as this house of yours, Mr. Muir, is certainly a most pleasant contrast to the din and haste of Glasgow, and your nieces, you know, like your young friends yonder, are of kin to spring.” ”

“ There were many grave people who would have smiled at poor Harry’s sins, and counted them light and venial, but so did not these.
To lose confidence in those who are most dear to us, to be able no longer to trust word or vow—it is the climax of womanish misery,—a calamity terrible to bear!
And Martha Muir, under this discipline, was growing old. Morning after morning there had been a rebound of eager hope, only to be utterly cast down when the night fell. ”

“ Rose had never ventured all her life to dispute any one of Harry’s caprices.
“One likes to have a glance at the world again,” said Harry, raising himself on his pillows. “Yonder comes the postman, Agnes—see, he is holding up a letter—run, and get it, Rose; and yonder is Rab McGarvie, carrying a peck of brose-meal to somebody, and little Maggie McGillivray clipping at the door. It is pleasant to see them all, and this wind, how fresh and wholesome it is. Lift the window a little more, Martha—just for a moment.” ”

“ Whiles I think upon that, Miss Jean.”
“Ou, ay, the like of you are aye thinking [174] upon that,” said the old woman with fiery eyes; “but I tell ye I’m nane so sure of what may come to pass; for I’ve seen mony a hopefuller lad than Harry Muir—mony a ane that thought in their ain mind they would read the name on my grave-head twenty years after it was printed there, and I’ve pitten my fit upon their turf for a’ that. I’m no wishing the lad ill—I’m wishing naebody ill that doesna meddle wi’ me; but I’ve seen as unlikely things—and you’ll see whether I’m no a sooth prophet, Sandy Muir.” ”

“ The wives murmured and recalled the steady “wage” which the old farmer gave; the men lounged round the Cross, and shook their heads, and prophesied ruin; the little shop newly opened, languished, and its keeper vainly lamented the folly which brought him to Maidlin. Sober agriculturists looking on, not without a quiet satisfaction in the truth of their own predictions, settled into their old quietness with a word of pity for Harry—poor Harry! ”

“ Of sweet inconstant sunshine.—I have seen
An old man’s heart that ne’er was done with seedtime,
Abiding in its gracious youth for ever.”
The next morning very early, while Martha Muir, unable to rest, sat at the window, carefully mending the torn coat which was poor Harry’s only one, Cuthbert Charteris set out on the top of the coach for Ayr. ”

“ It is not quite in my department, this kind of business; but it is pleasant to have some excuse for seeing so fine a country in this time when ‘folk are [147] longen to gon on pilgrimages.’—I think you must begin to feel this longing, Miss Muir?”
“It is wonderful how easily one can content oneself,” said Martha, with a smile which spoke of singular peace. “We have only to shut our eyes, Rose and I, and straightway we are at home—or to send some one else to enjoy it, Mr. Charteris. Harry and Agnes, have brought us so much of the atmosphere that I scarcely desire it now for myself.” ”

“ Another hoop, and another piece of delicate work, remained where Rose had left it. The sisters of the poor clerk maintained themselves so.
The baby voice had ceased. Groans of low pain were coming from the inner room. Cuthbert felt that he did wrong to wait, and turned again towards the door—but just then Miss Muir entered the parlour.
“The doctor thinks he will do well,” said Martha. “To-night I can hardly thank you. But he is everything to us [30] all—poor Harry!—and to-night you will excuse us. We can think of nothing but himself. ”

“ How weak at strongest! QUARLES.
Cuthbert Charteris returned to Edinburgh that night, but not until he had first made a rude outline—he was no artist, but could use his pencil enough for this—of Allenders, with its eccentric turret and shady mall, and the boat—a very crazy, incompetent boat as it turned out—lying under [26] the saugh tree upon the quiet water. He showed it to Harry, as they eagerly consulted about the necessary improvements, and Harry thought it quite a remarkable production; but Cuthbert greatly doubted as he enclosed it to Martha Muir. ”

“ And Armstrong shook his head over the fields, bearing still a scanty insufficient crop, and honestly deplored and lamented the daily visits which Harry paid to his lodger, Gilbert Allenders. Gilbert had scarcely the shadow of an excuse, in the way of medical practice, [117] for his residence here; and the universal prejudice which accused him of “leading away” the unfortunate young man of whom everybody was inclined to think well, was not without its foundation. But Harry—poor Harry! he was always “led away”—and it was so easy to find a tempter. ”

“ However that might be, the merchant did not resent her outburst, but answered it indistinctly in a low voice, and ended with something about “partiality,” and “quite natural.”
“I am not partial,” said Martha hastily. “No one has ever seen, no one can ever see, Harry’s faults as I do. I am not indifferent enough to pass over any one defect he has; but Harry is young. He has reached the time when men are but [253] experimenting in independent life. Why should he lose his good name for a common misfortune like this?”
“You should have stayed in Ayr,” said Mr. Sommerville, with a little weariness. ”

“ He had left Allenders only the previous day, and had left it in good spirits, giving Harry particular charge about the “schooling” of Violet and Katie, which the old man perceived ran some risk of being neglected, at least by the heads of the house. But Uncle Sandy had great hopes of Harry, and was much interested about the occupation which Harry desired for his leisure. Nevertheless, the old man walked slowly towards the dwelling-place of Jean Calder. He needed to be a brave man who should venture to ask money from her. ”

“ There was a considerable pause, for the old man did not find it so easy to overcome the tremor of indignation and horror into which her words had thrown him, and he now had almost resolved—but for a lingering unwillingness to disappoint Harry—to say nothing of his special mission. At last the silence was broken by Miss Jean herself.
“Ill times, Sandy Muir, awfu’ ill times; for auld folk, such like as me that have just [177] their pickle siller and naething mair, nae land to bear fruit nor strong arm to work for them, Sandy; the like of such times as thir, are as bad as the dear years.” ”

“ McGarvie, looking after him with a sigh. “I’m sure it’s a great blessing; and a’ body mends o’ their ill courses but our guid man.”
Harry had come by the coach; the economic tardiness of the canal was not necessary to Harry now; and except that he was sunburnt, and hot, and dusty, the quick inquisitive eye of Rose decided in a moment that there was nothing in his appearance to-day to rouse Martha’s suspicions.
“Don’t let Lettie run about so,” said Harry, when their first greetings were over. [63] “It is great presumption of those Rodgers; don’t let her go errands for them. ”

“ In Maidlin Cross there is much speculation too, [196] and they wonder if the family will stay at Allenders, and whether they will sell the land: but nothing is known; and many an honest sigh for poor Allenders heaves from the broad breasts of his labouring men, and many a cottage mother lifts her apron mechanically to her eye, when she speaks of the “weel-spoken,” kindly dead. Poor Harry! his whole world, gently and tenderly, let the veil of death fall over his evil deeds; remember only what he did well; and peace is upon his grave.
[197]
CHAPTER XV.
For mine inheritance I take this grave ”

“ Poor Harry! They all heard his vow; they all tried to take up their hope, and once more look fearlessly on the future. No one believed more devoutly than he did himself that now he could not fall again. No one was so confident as he that this sin was his last: “Never again.” [168] Heavy, unseen tears flowed from under Martha’s closed eyelids that night, when all the rest were peacefully asleep—poor Harry first of all. Never again! The words moved her to anything but hope. Poor Harry!
[169]
CHAPTER XI.
“Winter hath many days most like to Spring ”

“ The days pass, and grow into weeks, and still they sit all the long evening through, and again and again fancy they hear the sound of his return, and hold their breath in eager listening. A few letters, containing long lists of things he has seen, come to them tardily; but they never think of Harry, in his extreme occupation, carrying these letters about with him for a day or two, before he recollects to send them away. The [33] farm-manager comes now and then, anxious to see Allenders ”

“ Well, we’ll see,” said Harry, laughing; “but I must be economical this year, Gilbert—going on at this rate won’t do. I’ve spent a small fortune this year; to be sure, it was on the land,” said Harry, musing; “cattle, stables, byres, Armstrong and all his labourers, not to speak of the plough graith, and the harrows, and the thrashing-machine, and all the things they have bothered me about; but we must be thrifty this year.”
“I believe you’ve no memorandum of the money you lent me. I must make out one for you to-night, Harry,” said [56] Gilbert, carelessly. “Do you know how much it is?” ”

“ Poor Harry! his sister could not see these others, for his continual shadow resting on her heart.
When Martha had nearly reached the Exchange, she heard some one calling after her. It was John Buchanan; he came up out of breath.
“Will you tell Harry that I think he should come down and see my father, Miss [260] Muir?” gasped John. “I’ve been chasing you for ten minutes—you walk so fast. My father’s come home, and he’s shut up with Dick. I don’t think he’s pleased. If Harry would come down to-morrow, it might be all right again.”
[261]
CHAPTER XVI.
“’Tis the weak who are overbold ”

“ Poor Harry was humble now. He had such a happy ease of forgetting, that he did not feel it necessary to forgive. Bright, sanguine, overflowing with generous emotions, Harry in his new wealth and happiness that night could not remember that there was any one in the world other than a friend.
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON:
Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Another feminine craft peculiar to the “west country,” where many young girls, of a class inferior to the workers of embroidery and opening, are employed to clip the loose threads from webs of worked muslin. ”