Delaware gazette and state journal. (Wilmington, Del.) 1883-1902, 1894-02-01

with, "Warm up u bit, aud beikie!" in
few moments more had passed Joan's
door with a finger pressed meaningly to
his lips, and entering Sandy Nichols
cottage without knock, found the old
maa and woman Just as he had left them.
SANDY" he began sternly, al wish
Lady Mac Tavit.'s oasket Immediately"
The auldwife moaned and rocked in
greater emotion than before; but Sandy
merely glared and doggedly answered
back, II ha' M ain kist hercI'
SANDY, this old friend Of yours who
has come with me says he knows you
havem
With this the imperturbable artist held
the image squarcly before tho old
wretch'seyes. Fora moment they seemed
starting from their sockets, and he put
his shrivelled hands futteringly before
them to shut the unearthly challenger
from view. Then he slid limp down the
cupboard frame, as its door flew open,
and fell in pitablc heap upon the floor;
while the poor auldwife, screaming
"Guid Laird Guild Laird If ye'd
madden MAR Screeptur in your heart,
sandy and less on your tongue, thees
awsome curse would niver ha' COON |"
tottered across the room, stumbled over
her horror,stricken husband, and brought
to Hugh Ritchie--noto one but two caskets
of curious oriental design.
"Quick, quick, Joany' She was at
the door in an instant. "Send Davy TO
the back door. Let no one pass In or
out Take these, joan and ii you love
Hugh Richie, never let them out of
your hands. BY all the Gracesi be.
lieye Lady Mac Tayitt has got another
wig!" And with this he ran like a
greyhound to the lodge.
The terrorof the couple pierced Joan's
heart woefully; and her little vigil there
was as an age in which her own and
llugh's fate seemed hid in what her
honest hands loyalty clenchcd. Her
heart beat wildly rs she heard trap
from tho lodge come laundering across
the bridge Of Fasnakyle and up to the
cottage door.
"rhere she is, your ladyship. There
she is; the finest woman in tile North
But for Joan, there, we never could
have found itw exclaimed the artist
radiantly, rs the head plaided and bon
neted Lady Mac Tavitt, reaching the
ground at a bound, grabbed the first
casket she saw in Joan's hands, snapped
the spring viciously, tossed her plaid
and bonnet from her, and, clutching the
precious wig--as big as lord chancel-
lor's, with curls that fell to her waist,
and red as the most gorgeous sunset
dyes-clapped it upon her glistening
pate. This done she sank back in
chair with groan of liberation and re-
lief, and at once vigorously set about
taking snuff. At last with closed eyes
she murmured.
"Gie her sheelin', Hugh. Gle her
sheelin'w
In amazement he took the other casket
from the flushed girls hands. 1t re
quircd but u moment to learn its history
from the doddering auldwife now; its
theft by Sandy at night from the basket
containing the mite of a babe left at
Dayy Saunders cottage 20 years before;
the fear Of using the Bank of England
notes of large denomination which il
still contained intact; Sandy's deadly
hatred of those he had wronged and his
atfrighted yesterdays theft of the
baskets mate in sudden superstitious
fear lest the first had been bewitched
from his cupboard; but even Hugh
Ritchies hand trembled as he read the
little yellow scrawl, among the bank
notes, with Lady Barlsfuld's crest upon
it, which told of the peasant lady
mothers misery, despair and unutter-
able longing that her babe might know
the tender highland home-nest from
which she had flown; which told him
also that Joan beside him there had been
child of noble birth;-the whole while
Lady Mac Dayitt calmly rocked in the
| auldwife's chair, pleasantly nodding her
head in the bland delirium of wig re-
covery and snuff
"Do you know, Lady Mac Tavitt,"
began the artist falteringly, "that the
Mac Tavitt has been found I"
She opened her eyes with snap, took
another pinch OF snuff, closed her eyes
again adjusted her wig and rocked on
benignly.
Lady Mac Tavitt! Will you not
understand that here-here in this room
there is standing before you the
daughter of Lord Barlsfold; your own
grandniece, the Duchess of Fyhe and
| Yathan 7" ...
Lady Mac Tavitt gave little snort.
| Then she arose. She clutched her
bonnet, her casllet and her plaid,
scrambled back into the trap and, Just
as she was being driven rapidly away,
chopped out this single command to the
astonished couple:
Hugh Richie, gle her yourself an
| ha' din !"
And thus il came that Davy Saunders
sang "Core-Cheathaich" unmolested in
his cottage garden to the end of his
days, and the lowly and the great for
once came blessedly together through so
simple a thing as the loss Of Lady Mac
| VayitL's wig.