The record-union., 1893-05-06

They were near enough to the shore to
hear voices and laughter borne over the
( water from the grassy inclosure before
Iantallon Castle, and lowing OF kline In
the pastures, and as they neared the Bass
| Rock these sounds were exchanged fol
the squeallng Of wild fowl and the clang
of their wings. To Sandie's delight he
was allowed to shoot from the boat, which
he did with as little danger to the birds as
I to the fishes, and the only condition his
father imposed was that he should fire
with his back towards him, It'll youl
aim is mair preceese, man." Though il
soon became evident even to the san
guine Sandie that he would bring home
neither gannet nor kittiwake, it was a
rapturous delight to be rowed about the
| island by his father, who told him the
name of every bird he saw, and pointed
out their nests on the precipitous face OF
the rock. Then David rested on his oars,
and the boat scarcely moved on the still
water while Sandie ate the oat cake and
drank the milk provided for him by
his mother, and his father took deep
draft from his flask till his face grew
crimson.
Father, gle me drink, ,too," said
Sandie, stretching out his hand.
va. ma; yell stick to your milk-drink-
ing TIL ye hae built up strong frame.
and then ye may taf'sas much whusk y
as ye wun to keep it in guild repair"
And now the boat was turned landward
fonce more, and they soon lost sound OF
the clang of the seabird's wings, and the
lowing OF the kline was again heard, and
! David rowed slowly past the rock of Tan
talon. Alter chattering for hours Sandie
hau laIlen silent, and sat leaning his arm
on the gunwale of the boat looking into
the llmpld water, dipping his hand into a
| sou swelling wave, and scattering a
! rll lriY Il 4,
! ers: suddenly he ceased his idle play,
and, kneeling in the bottom of the boat,
| clung firmly to the side with both hands,
leaned over and gazed intently in the wa
ter. His father, who was always on the
| alert where his son was concerned, at
once noticed the change that had come
! over him, roWed quicker, and said cheer
| lily, "W hat are ye glowering at, man?
Dld ye never see a herring in the sea be-
| fore?"
Sandie neither spoke nor stirred, and
David took comfort in thinking that after
all the lad could see nothing uncanny in
the water; 1t was just some daft folly or
other he was after, best unnoticed. But
When Sandle did speak it was to utter
words for which he was unprepared.
ather, see Uncle Colin III the water
! WI his face turned up to me, and his cen
| vide open, but he Gamma see VII them"
| lhe boy did not raise his head, but con-
| tlnued to gaze into the water. Drops of
sweat broke out on Galbraith's brow.
ana he lifted the dripping oars high
IN the rowlocks and leaned towards San
DIE, his red face now as white as the
| boys.
Whether it's God or the dell speaks in
ye dinna ken. but ye'll drive me mad
! WI your gruesome claversl Haud up,
man! and fling yourself Eack i'll the boat
where yell see naething waur than your
seP."
But Sandie did not stir. IT'S Uncle
! COIN that l see floating in the water, lap
| PIT IN sea weed, and he's nae sleeping, for
| ms cen stare sac wide," and Gaipraith.
! who would not have looked over the gun
| vale OF the boat 1or his life, with an oath
| plunged the oars deep into the water, and
| rowed with furious strokes.
We've struck the oar on his white
| iace!" shrieked the boy and fell back cry
ing in the boat.
a heavy gloom settled on the Gal
! Dralths, and this last hideous vision of
! Sandle's they Kept strictly TO themselves:
! they dld not seek counsel OF their minis
! ter or any one. They were certain that
| Colin was drowned. 1t was a mere ques-
tlon OF time when they could hear how it
! had happened, but hear il they assuredly
| would. And Sandie, too, was gloomy
ana depressed. The BARN has friphted
! himself this time as weel as ithers, y said
his father, ''and sma' blame to him; but [
| wad rather follow him to the kirk-vard
than that he suld grow up wiz the second
| sight! 1t may hae been a. varra weel in
a breeckless, starving Hielander a hun
| dred years ago, but it's no consistent for
well-fed Lowlander in these days o.
| trousers and high farming. How is San
die to do justice to the land and mind the
rotation OF crops If he goes daft WI the
second sight?"
! The harvest lt-aS rN1aptifn1 orI ,ro4
together i'll fine condition, but neither
| David nor his wife had any heart to enjoy
| it. They simply lived through each day
waiting for the tidings that must come;
nor had they long to wait. Nearly a
month after Sandie's vision David read in
the newspaper of the safe arrival of his
! brothers ship at its destination. 1t re-
ported a prosperous voyage with but one
casualty during its course, which oc-
Cured on the twenty-touruh day after
sailing, when passenger booked for
| Sydney had mysteriously fallen over
board in perfectly calm weather and was
! drowned. The gentleman's name was
Colin GaIbraith, and his sudden, un-
timely end had cast gloom over the
! ships company. So far the newspaper
report, which, brief as it was, was all
| that David and Alison could ever learn
of their poor brothers fate. They care
fully compared the dates, and found that
COlth AdO UGti NlION llGNl LllItG 1ilN Ler
! Sandie had seen the vision of the body in
the sea.
Il Wilma tell the bairn that puir Colin
is dead,' said David gloomily.
Yen just tell the bairn he's dead, but
| you'll say naething of drowning"
'Ge maun do as ye think best. but
Gamma mention puir Collins name TO him. :"
And it was from his mother that Sandie
heard of his Uncle Collins death, He
listened gravely and thoughtfully to the
| tidingS. ~ eS, it was him that | saw in
the water" and that was all that he had
to say about the death Of his favorite
uncle; he asked no question and made no
! further remarks.
From this time forward a great change
came over David Galbraith. From being
wholly matter-of-fact and little inclined
to believe more than his senses could at
| test, he became Credulous and Supersti-
| tious. He trembled at omens, and was
unnerved for his days work if his dreams
over night were unpropitious. He dis
liked being out on dark nights, and cast
| uneasy gIanceS over his shoulder as
! though he heard steps behind him. At
| times when he was riding he thought that
| he heard some one following hard on his
heels and he would gallop Ior miles and
reach home, horse and rider both in a
sweat of fear. And Sandie, the uncon-
sClouS cause OF the evIl change In his
| father, mutely wondered What had come
over him. David scarcely let the boy out
of his sight, though his society was a tor
ment to him, and he was always wonder
ing what would be the next shock he
would receive. Unhappily he tried to
restore tone to his shaken nerves by
drinking, and the habit grew quickly on
| him, to his good wife's great distress;
anu times were now so changed that san
die was more frightened OF his father than
his father was of him. Mrs Gatbraitn
] proposed sending Sandie to stay with