W ^"■:*^ ">i ;!iNKj^- L I E) RARY OF THL UN IVERSITY or ILLINOIS B8IT2.a. A LONE LASSIE AN AUTOBIOGBAPHY J. JEMMETT-BEOWNE IN THBEE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, MAKSTON, SEARLE & EIVINGTON, CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 1886. {All rights reserved.) I'litNTKD BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITKD, STAMFORD STUEFT AND CHARING CROSS. 'D ©enza V. 1. CONTENTS OF VOL. I. CHAPTBI! PAGK I. The Castle ox the Moor ... ... i II. My First Adventure ... ... 14 III. The Shooting Lodge ... ... 33 N^ IV. The Snow Lady ... ... 64 V. Out of the Jaws of Death ... 79 V VI. A Bitter Blow ... ... 88 ^ VII. Eaton Square ' ... ... ... lOi ^ VIII. The New Forest ... ... 134 ^ IX. The Keeper's Cottage ... ... 155 (»i X. Forest Days ... ^ XI. The Children of the New Forest ^i(^ XII. A Canine Detective ... Y> XIII. The Verderers' Hall ^ XIV. Swan Green ... ... ... 247 Q^ XV. The Prima Donna ^ 170 185 207 226 262 XVI. A Mother's Love ... 9ft 1 A LOKE LASSIE. CHAPTER I. THE CASTLE 0>f THE MOOR. Life's troubles began early for me ! I was only an infant when I was de- serted by my natural protectors, and banished from my home. Before I wa& two years old I was alone in the world — a forlorn little waif, with no one to care whether I lived, and some who would have been glad if I had died. I was worse than an orphan, for I had no parents in heaven to watch over me. My earliest recollections are connected with an old stone mansion on a sweep of VOL. I. p. A A LONE LASSIE. breezy moorland in Scotland. It was one of those castellated houses which are dig- nified l}y the name of castles north of the Tweed. They are clearly French in taste and style, and castle is probably only the English translation of chateau, though certainly most of the words imported into our language by Mary Stuart and her followers are Anglicized merely by pro- nunciation. The dwelling-house stood on the north side of a large quadrangle. It was an irregular pile of stonework, only pictu- resque from its varied outline. The oldest and handsomest portion lay at the north- east corner, the corner itself being formed by a tower, some sixty feet in height. To the tower's side was attached a low two- storied Imilding, four mullioned windows on each story. The house seemed an appendage to the tower, not the tower to the house. A small door, evidently not ^contemplated in the original design, was THE CASTLE ON THE ^lOOR. 3 crowded in between the third and fourth window from the tower, on the ground floor. It was approached by a flight of steep steps, and opened into a low room, panelled with black oak, which served as a hall. Part of the building must have been destroyed, or perhaps only a part had been completed ; for the eastern portion of the house was totally different in design and finish, and had a separate entrance. It was evidently a comparatively modern addition, and intended only for the resi- dence of the bailiff, who looked after the live stock in the well-kept farm buildings, which formed the east and west sides of the quadrangle, and cultivated the arable land three miles away to the south. In the centre of the square- was a deep well, surrounded hj a carved stone wall, from the coping of which rose an arch of beauti- ful hammered iron- work to carry the pulley for the bucket-rope, just such a well as might be found in the courtyard of an old 4 A LONE LASSIE. Breton chateau. A large stone dovecote y. raised on a carved pedestal above the southern wall, was clearly after a French original. Craigie Castle lay on a stretch of rolling moorlands, nothing breaking the monotony of the undulating horizons, except on one side, where, far away, a blue line of mountains with one dominant peak stood up like a row of jagged teeth against the southern sky. Every wind out of heaven swept the moor, but the wind that l)lew from the east was the most violent, and often brought " an odour of brine from the ocean," whose roar we sometimes heard, though it was some four miles distant. In winter-time the landscape was dreary enough, though there was a wild grandeur in the freedom of the upland swells losing themselves in a chaotic mixture of purple and indigo in the boundless distance, or when they lay covered with the glistening snow tossed in great billows, still and. THE CASTLE ON THE MOOR. 5 ^vhite as those of an Arctic Ocean. But in summer, when the clouds were chasing each other across the blue sky, the moors were a sea of glory. Waves of pink heather, flecked with foam of amber gorse, seemed absokitely in motion as the lights and shadows flew across the bloom, making the colours run through a gamut from rich purple to brilliant crimson, and pale yellow to the orange glow of gold. Trees were sparse. A few silver birches were dropped promiscuously here and there, Avith one large cluster on a gentle eminence north of the castle round a stone seat, which went by the name of Lady Elsie's Bower. To the east a scattered group of stunted oak trees with rugged arms, all stretched out in one direction, seemed to be running away from the blasts of the ocean wind. Below the farmyard was a kitchen garden, where kale and cabbage grew luxuriantly, and gooseberries and currants 6 A LONE LASSIE. were plentiful enough to strew tlie ground with melting luxuriousness when man and bird were satisfied. The garden opened into an orchard, where the gnarled branches bore more moss than apples. The tower and the older part of the building had always been occupied by the family during the shooting season, till my grandfather, Sir Digby Dampier, built a lodge twelve miles away, in a more con- venient situation for his best moors. Since that time the castle had degenerated into a mere farmhouse, the rooms in the old part being unoccupied, though not dis- mantled. The modern house was inhabited by my father's bailiff, Hamish Macpherson, as honest a man as ever breathed, and entirely devoted to his master's interests. He was a widower, the father of my dear nurse, as also of a son, Kenneth, and another daughter, Effie, both of whom lived with him. The farmhouse was connected with THE CASTLE ON THE MOOE. 7 the castle proper by a door on the upper story. This door had been kept locked until the time of my arrival with my nurse. Nannie would, for more than one reason, have preferred living amongst her family, but she was more thoughtful of my dignity than her own comfort. Though I was banished from my English home, she was resolved that I should be brought up as mistress of the Scotch castle. I was to take my position at once and for ever, so far as she could ensure it. I was to be lodged in the rooms occupied by my ancestors, though those in the farmhouse would have been more cheery and more fitted for a child's nurseries. Nannie chose two front rooms on the upper stor}^, which looked into the quadrangle, always lively with farmyard sights and sounds. She removed the four-post bedsteads with their funereal hangings, and substituted an iron one for herself, and a cot for me. She 8 A LONE LASSIE. banished a great part of the heavy antique furniture, and put up gay chintz curtains in the place of the dark velvet hangings. She would have liked to have pulled down the Dutch tapestries from the walls, as she said that they only harboured dust. I was very pleased that she was afraid to remove them on her own authority. They were my picture-books, and beguiled many a dull hour. In some panels, lords and ladies were starting for the chase, surrounded by retainers holding in leashes of dogs, or carrying hooded hawks. In others, the stag was flying before the hounds, or keeping them at bay. As I grew older I gave names to the principal figures, and wove their fictitious histories into childish romances. There was a little girl on a white horse in whom I took a special interest, looking upon her as a sort of personification of myself. The lady and gentleman with whom she was riding I assumed to be her parents, and this led THE CASTLE OX THE MOOR. 9 me to ask Nannie why I had no father or mother. She told me that I was the daughter of Sir Lionel and Lady Dampier, but would give no explanation to account for my lonely condition. I began very early to see that she had something to conceal, but at the same time I saw that she had no intention of being more communica- tive. But I am going ahead too quickly. Li the sunny rooms — sunny, at least, with all the sun that Scotland is treated to — I spent my early childhood, well lodged, well clothed, and well fed. I was petted by all ; but Xannie was too wise to allow me to be spoilt. Hamish and Kenneth, however, did their best to spoil me, when her back was turned. "When the weather was fine enough, I lived in the open air. I made friends with all the tenants of the farmyard. Cocks and hens, ducks and geese, even the gob- bling turkeys, affected my company, and 10 A LONE LASSIE. were sometimes a little too demonstrative in their affections. The dogs were my favourite playfellows ; and one big deer- hound seldom left my side. He would lio near me, blinking with his great brown eyes, ready to snap at any one or anything that he thought likely to injure or annoy me. He was a magnificent beast, was Eannock, and, like most big things, full of heart. Nannie called him my under-nurse, and was never afraid to leave me if he was on guard. I learned to walk holding on to his rough back, and later used to want no better company on my short rambles on the moor. He would stroll by my side, lie at my feet if I sat down to arrange posies of the wild flowers I had gathered, and jump up for a game of romps the moment he saw I was inclined for more active amusement. With such a nurse and such a dog — two such faithful guardians — I was indeed a lucky child. But even they could not make up to me THE CASTLE ON THE MOOR. 11 for tlie lack of a father's and a mother's love and protection. We passed our evenings in the kitchen of the farmhouse. As soon as it grew dusk, Xannie always made an excuse to leave the nurseries. When we returned at bedtime, she used to hurry through the passages, and seemed relieved of a sort of fear when she had locked the door behind her. I did not, of course, observe this till I was ^ve or six years old; but then I remember asking her if she was afraid of robbers. " I would rather meet half a dozen robbers than one '' she answered, stopping short in her sentence. What could she have been afraid of? I asked myself. It was long before I found out, but I did find out one day 1 I thoroughly enjoyed our evenings. We were a happy, though a homely, party. I was the queen. Hamish, his son, and two daughters, and generally a couple of gillies, who helped on the farm during the 12 A LONE LASSIE. non-shooting months, sat round the supper- table, and conversation, if not intellectual, was always animated. It was no wonder that I learned to speak with a strong Scotch accent. After the meal, it was my custom to sit on Hamish's knee, with Rannock at my feet. Man and dog were much alike ; both were big and tawny, both were honest and true. I do not know which I loved the best. Hamish was a splendid man of some sixty years, as straight as a fir, and as strong as an oak. In the Highland kilt which he always wore, he was the beau- ideal of a Scottish clansman. Kenneth was like his father, but not so grandly built — a kindly fellow and a good son. Effie was a pretty, fair-haired lassie, five years younger than her sister, of whom she stood rather in awe, as of one who had seen the world, and was deputy mistress of the castle. But all this time I have forgotten to THE CASTLE ON THE MOOE. 13 describe my Nannie — perhaps because there is nothing very definite to describe. Jeannie Macpherson was neither tall nor short, neither thin nor stout, neither plain nor pretty; she just was a lump of love. Love beamed from her eyes, love hung on her tongue, there was love in her touch. It was imjDOssible to look at her without loving her in return. Her eyes were soft and tender blue, her hair was softer still, and her voice was softest of all. To me she was the most beautiful of God's creatures ; and Donald Cameron thought so too. He wanted to carry her off to his Inverness-shire farm, but Nannie would not leave me ; and when pressed to bring me with her to his home, she replied that her young lady could not leave her castle. Great was Donald's loss, great my gain. Dear Nannie, how I wish now that she had thought less of me and more of herself ! 14 A LONE LASSIE. CHAPTER II. MY FIRST ADVENTURE. Months crept into years in the happy^ peaceful life at Craigie Castle. I throve on simple fare — oatmeal porridge, fresh milk and eggs, with a chicken now and then, or a grouse in its season. Butchers' meat I rarely tasted ; and if strong limbs and red cheeks are a sign of health, I required none. They were uneventful years, leaving little to remember beyond the affectionate care of all with whom I lived. I had never been more than two miles from the castle, never further than the kirk, where we worshipped on the sabbath. MY FIEST ADVENTURE. 15 My education was not entirely neglected. Nannie taught me to read and write, and Kenneth, who was quite a scholar, gave me lessons in arithmetic and geography. I had a wonderful love for music, and the faculty of catching a tune once heard. My voice was powerful for so young a child, and I was constantly using it. I sang all day to myself, and most evenings was called upon hy Hamish to sing him some favourite Scotch ballad — I knew a good many by heart, and was always on the look-out for more. ''She gets her music from her mother," I heard Xannie say one day. This set me questioning her, but I could get no satisfaction to my curiosity beyond the answer that no one in the world could sing like Lady Dampier. My love of music grew stronger when I knew that it was shared by my unknown parent, and in pouring out my heart in song, I fancied that I was communing with her. I could sit for hours in Lady 16 A LONE LASSIE. Elsie's Bower, sending" my voice across the moor in floods of self-taught melody;, but no answering strain came from my southern home. As my mind opened, I became more anxious to know what lay beyond the purple heather. I longed to visit Edin- burgh and Glasgow, of which Kenneth gave me such glowing descriptions, and still more London, which he showed me on the map, and told me was the richest and grandest city in the universe. I had almost as much curiosity to look at the sea, which was really within reach. Both Hamish and his son had promised to take me some day to the coast ; but some day is no day, and the more I was put off the more ardently did I desire to visit it. I tried to form an idea of the ocean ^ and often asked questions to help me to create one in my brain. "I want to know what the sea is likc; Hamie," I asked one wild October evening, MY FIRST ADVENTURE. 17 wlien the wind was roaring round the house, and Nannie said she could hear the noise of the waves. " It's a naething but waater, lassie,'^ was his sapient reply. "I ken that weel. So is our douk- pond," I answered pertly. '•' It's saalt waater. That's jist the differ o it. " Where does the saalt come frae ? " I asked. Hamish stroked his beard and looked puzzled. " I niver thocht o' that, lassie. I'm thinking there maun be mines o' saalt niest the waater." " What a muckle deal it would tak' F Kenneth says there is mair waater than land on the globe." " A muckle deal, lassie." " Are the fish in the sea saalt, Hamish ? " " Jist kippered," cried Kenneth, laugh- ing. " Gin awa', Kenneth ; you're makings VOL. I. C 18 . A LONE LASSIE. sport o' me. Kippers are dried i' the sun, ■and saalted with saalt; ain't they, Nannie ? " " Ay, dearie ! Kenneth is fly ting ye. The beasties in the sea are no saalter than the troot i' the burn." " Is the sea deep, Hamish — deep as the house ? " *' Muckle deeper, lassie." " Deep as the tower ? " " As fifty o' them ; and in some parts it has nae bottom." u Yj^^ greedy to hae a sicht o' it, Hamish. You might tak' me wi' ye on the sheltie." "I'll tak' ye some day ; but I'm terrible busy the noo." " Kenneth might tak' me, then ? " " Na, na ; he's owerta'en with his ain wark. The cald weather is coomin' on." " You're aye saying it'll do the morn, when I am seeking to gang ony way. If you canna tak' me, ye can say something mair about the wonderful waater. Ay, but it maun be ^nQ.'' MY FIRST ADVENTURE. 19 ^' 'Tis a terrible fine sicht, lassie. When the sun shines, it glints as gin it war a' ower wi' stars, jist like the lift turned upside-down ; and fan the wind blaws as it does the day, it's something fearsome. It's a' tossed wi' muckle waves as big as the hills, covered ower with white foam instead o' heather. Thev roar like a thousand bulls as they dash upo' the shore, gin as tho' they wanted to swallow the airth." " Eh, Hamish, but I'm feared 1 I'm richt glad the sea is sae far awa'. Are ye sure it canna meddle wi' us here ? " " Ye need na be fecht, lassie. The Almighty has pitten it within boonds, which it canna pass." " I am glad o' that. I should na like to be drooned, like the puir folk i' the flood. Are there ony arks upo' the sea noo ? " " Unco' like it. Great muckle ships ; some's big as the hoose, wi' mony stories, that can carry a thoosand men. There be 20 A LONE LASSIE. wee boats, too, like cockle-shells, dancin'' on the waves." " It maun be frightsome t' sail in such wee things." " Ay, it is, missie. A fisher's life is fu* o' danger, and there's mony lone weedies an' faitherless bairns a' roun' the coast." " What for do they fish, when there's sae muckle danger ? " "Fisher folk maun live," was Hamish's paradoxical reply. Hamish's description of the wonderful ocean so filled my little brain — I was just seven years old — that I dreamed all night of something very weird and grand and terrible — something very unlike the reality ; for who could imagine anything so majestic and so beautiful ? I woke next morning before daybreak, haunted by my dream. I could not sleep again, xls I lay awake in my cot, the desire to see the ocean grew into a resolution that I would see it, and before the day was over. It was not five MY FIRST ADVENTURE. 21 miles off. I was a strong lassie for seven years old, and I felt I could walk the distance, if I took my time over it. I would have a long rest when I got there, and return in the afternoon. I rose in more than my usual spirits. I dressed myself almost without Nannie's aid. I hurried over breakfast, eating so little and so silently that she thought I must be ill. My heart was beating so wildly with ex- citement that I could hardly answer when she asked if anything ailed me. " I'll be a' richt," I answered, with flushing cheek, " when I get into the air. I am sae hot." " Hot ! " cried Nannie ; '^ you maun be in a fever, bairn ! It is a raw autumn day." '' Na, na, Nannie ! I am richt eneuch. I did na sleep well, that's a'." " Did the music waken ye ? " "Na. I dinna think I heard it; did you?" 22 A LONE LASSIE. " I tliocht sae, but maybe I was dreaming." " I wonder who plays o' the spinet ^ Nannie." " Naebody, bairn." " It canna play o' itself, can it ? " " It maun be tlie wind on the wires, or maybe the mice rinning ower the notes." " Mice canna play tunes, nor yet the wind, Nannie ; " and I began to hum a mournful air that I had often heard at night, " Dinna, dearie, dinna sing that song ; it's sae sorrow-sad. I canna bear to hear it. Never mind about the music. Jist rin out, and gin ye dinna come to dinner bright, bonny, and Imngry, I'll be to gi'e ye some stufiSe not quite to your taste. There, rin awa' ! The douks and the geese are callin' at ye." And she gave me a hearty kiss. I was not long in j^^^tting on my hat and a warm tippet. I ran out and called MY FIRST ADVENTURE. 23 Rannock loudly, but for once his joyous bark did not respond. I called again more loudly, and knew tbat he was not in the yard, or his paws would have been on my shoulders before the echo of my voice had died away. A gillie coming out of the barn told me, to my bitter disappointment, that the dog had gone off early with Hamish to a village ^ve miles away. It was most provoking, just as I specially needed the deerhound's company and pro- tection. At first I was for postponing my expedition till he could escort me, but on second thoughts I knew I should be so miserable if I did not carry out my plan,, that I resolved, as Rannock was not to the fore, to go alone. I put a hunch of bread, kept back from breakfast, into a little basket, and added some eggs from the hen-house. I filled a bottle with cream in the dairy, and then ran through the kitchen garden into the orchard, where I picked up a few 24 A LONE LASSIE. windfalls. I started boldly on my long walk. The storm of yesterday had made the heather wet and the grass sloppy, but I was too excited to feel or care that my boots were soaking. I trudged along, never looking back, lest I should see Nannie waving a recall, which I should have been too obedient to disregard. I kept on steadily, with my eyes fixed on the eastern horizon. I seemed to make little progress ; but after an hour's tramp I ventured to look back, when the dwarfed size of the tower told me that I had come a good way on my journey. It grew smaller and smaller as I turned my head from time to time. I began to feel weary, and with fatigue came repentance. The tears welled into my eyes, as I thought how badly I had behaved to my kind Nannie, who would be looking for me in bitter anxietj^, when she found me absent from the midday meal. MY FIRST ADVENTURE. 25 Conscience pricked me sharply, and fear whispered that I might never see my home again. I thought of turning back, but a sip of cream and a crust restored my courage and checked my repentance. I could not be far from the sea, for I heard its noise louder every step. Hamish had said that it sounded like the bellowing of bulls ; it was more like the roar of thunder, clap after clap. I was terribly frightened, and would have given all the world to have been safe on Nannie's lap. It was awful to be alone, with the wild ocean thundering at my feet ; but curiosity mastered fear. I must take one peep, and then I would go home. In a few minutes I should know what the ocean was really like. My heart beat as if it wanted to batter my ribs. Oscillating between in- tense fear and a mysterious delight at being so near the object of my quest, I ran forward, and after more than one tumble, which resulted in the breaking of three out 26 . A LONE LASSIE. of my four eggs, I came to a dead stop on the brink of a precipice. The ocean lay before me. I threw myself on the turf, and gazed my fill. I was breathless with admiration and amaze- ment. Never in my dreams had I pictured such a glorious sight. The sea was heaving, rolling, tumbling. The waves were crowned with white foam, and, as they dashed upon the rocks, tossed the spume into the air to fall in showers of spray. I could see, north and south, promontory after promontory, one behind the other, fading away in the distant haze. All was life, movement, strife — a hell of angry waters. Now and then a gleam of sunshine, shooting through a rift in the scudding clouds, made the waves glow like melted emeralds and painted rainbows on the leaping spray. Oh ! it was a glorious sight of Godlike grandeur! Child as I was, I felt that I shrank into nothingness before the majesty of the battling waves ! MY FIRST ADVENTUEE. 27 What was I ? A speck of dust in the presence of the profound immensity of the trackless ocean ! I forgot my fatigue, my hunger, nurse's anger. I only gaped and gazed at the tumbling monster at my feet, and longed for a nearer view. Craning over the precipice, I spied a little path in a ravine between the rocks. I traced it to the summit of the cliff. I jumped up, and in a delirium of excitement made my way to its starting-point, ran down the steep incline, and in a few minutes was standing- a few feet above the yellow sand. The spray was tossed in my face, though the waves broke a hundred yards away. I was not yet near enough. I found some rough steps cut in the rock. They were slippery, but I clambered down cautiously, and reached the shore without a stumble. I danced with delight. The sand felt so comforting to my feet after plodding through the heather. I took off my wet 28 A LONE LASSIE. boots and stockings, and ran about bare- footed, shouting with excitement, whilst the sea-mews screamed above. The shore was strewn with beautiful shells tossed up by the tempest, and with delicate seaweeds torn from deep ocean gardens. I stooped to gather them with all a child's rapture at finding a new play- thing. I filled my handkerchief with shells of every shape and hue, and seaweeds, red and brown and golden, only to throw away my unknown treasures to pick up others, the latest found seeming always the most beautiful. At last, when the first novelty had worn off, I recollected that it must be past my dinner-hour. I sat down on a rock, swallowed my last egg, and munched my bread and apples. No dainties ever equalled that anchorite meal eaten to the battle- music of the waves. A sudden shower sent me running for shelter to the cliff. A cave opportunely MY JFIRST ADVENTURE. 29 opened a large doorway to receive me. It ran up some way into the bowels of the earth. At the extremity was a bank of soft dry sand. As long as the first excite- ment was upon me, I forgot everything but the grand and strange scene before me. Now I felt tired — oh, so tired ! My feet were sore and my limbs ached. My eyelids tingled with the salt spray. I closed and rubbed them, and found it difficult to open them again, so heavy were they with coming sleeip. I sank gently down on the natural bed, which seemed prepared ex- pressly for me, and in a minute I was wrapped in the soundest slumber. I dreamed that I was at home again, safe in Nannie's arms, and that Rannock — dear old dog! — was licking my hand to welcome me. I awoke. My hand was wet. It was no dream then, but a waking reality. I sat up, and found to my horror that the water was creeping all around me. My sandy bed was nearly covered. I could hear the 30 A LONE LASSIE. waves dashing* on the rocks at the mouth of the cave, and could see flecks of foam sailing up the dark gulf flowing at my feet. I jumped up. The entrance was deep with water. I wondered what it all meant. I knew nothing about the tides, had never heard of ebb and flow. I stood bewildered, like one in a hideous nightmare. The water was rising round my naked legs. I retired before it to the utmost limit of the cave. The cruel water followed me. Escape seemed impossible. It rose creep- ingly to my knees ; but still I do not think that I realized that Death was waiting to clutch me in his cold arms. In my terror I called for Nannie, Hamish, Kenneth, Rannock ; but the echo was the only answer to my cries. I leaned against the hard rock ; my head knocked against a project- ing ledge, and, with the strength born of despair, I drew myself up and scrambled on to it. I fell upon my knees, and, whisper- ing " Our Father," swooned away. A foot MY JIRST ADVENTUEE. 31 or two more of water, and I sliould no longer have been a burden to any one. God forgive me, but I have often since wished that the tide had overwhelmed me as T lay unconscious in that seaside cave. When I came back to life, I was in darkness. I listened, but heard no water lapping below me. I stretched down my hand. It remained dry. I crept gently down, and found that the sand was damp but hard. I could see a pale light shim- mering at the entrance to the cave. I groped my way with my hands, and soon stood outside under a clear sky, spangled with myriads of winking stars. The storm was over. I was saved ! The sea was still breaking in great billows on the shore, but there was no longer the deafening din or the blinding spray, only the thuds of the waves as they fell in quick succession on the hard ribbed sand. I was saved from drowning only to die of starvation, I began to fear, I could not 32 A LONE LASSIE. find tlie bottle of cream, which I now remembered I had left on the sand, when I ran for shelter from the rain. I was too weak and faint from hunger to think of attempting to w^alk home. My legs would not carry me. I seemed to grow old in that dreadful moment. I had not time to think in the cave, now I had nothing to do but to think. I remembered all my little acts of rebellion and unkind- ness, my sins of omission and commission ; but the great sin of stealing away from home rose up before me like an unpardon- able crime, only to be expiated by death. I should never see my darling Nannie again, never sit on kind Hamish's knee, never learn any more lessons with Kenneth, never play with Effie. I should never hear Bannock's bark or feel his cold nose against my cheek, when he jumped up to greet me of a morning. I sank, sobbing- out my heart, on the moist sand, and whis- pered a prayer to heaven for forgiveness, MY FIRST ADVENTUEE. 33 and a last farewell to the dear ones at home. I thought of my father and mother, and wondered why they had deserted their child. I should have been more resigned to die if I had once seen their faces — even only once. I felt, or thought that I felt, the icy hand of death creeping towards my heart. Hark! What was that? The bark of a dog ! I should know that bark amongst a thousand. It was Rannock's bark, my Rannock's I I staggered to my feet. I had no voice to cry out, not that I should have been heard if I had shouted. My voice would not have carried so far ; the bark seemed to come from the sky. At last I saw men's figures and the shape of a dog on the cliff above, dark against the clear, starlit sky. They were standing stilL Now they walked off away from me. I tried to run in the same direction, but came to the ground from weakness. In VOL. I. 1) 34 A LONE LASSIE. an agony of despair, I waved my handker- chief. It fluttered in the wind. They stopped, and came back in my direction. The wind ahnost carried my handkerchief away. I held it with the little strength that remained to me, and closed my eyes. I heard a shout and such a joyous bark. Thanks be to God, I was seen; I was •saved ! Down the cliff came Kannock, barking all the while as if he was wild with joy. In a few minutes I heard feet pattering on the sand, and soon the dear