Camps, Quarters, and Casual PlacesForbes, Archibald
History
Camps, Quarters, and Casual Places
Forbes, Archibald
Military camps; Military history, Modern
"It was a vera happy time. The auld couple were as kind as kind could
be, and their twa or three young folks keepit up the fun brisk and
lively. I took a hand at the cairts and sang a lilt like the rest; but
I was luiking for Alick's company to fill up my cup of happiness. The
time wore on, and it was getting close to the hour at which he might be
expectit. I kenna what ailed me, but I felt strangely uneasy and
anxious for his coming. 'Here he is at last!' I said to myself, as my
heart gave a jump at the sound of a foot on the gravel walk. As it came
closer, I kent it wasna Alick's step, and a strange, cauld grip of fear
and doubt caught me at the heart. Mr. Thomson, that was the name of our
old friend, was called out, and I overheard the sound of a whispered
conversation in the passage. Then he put his head in and called out his
wife; I could see his face was as white as a sheet, and his voice shook
in spite of himself. The boding of misfortune came upon me with a force
it was in vain to strive against, and I rose up and gaed out into the
passage amang them. The auld man was shakin' like an aspen leaf; the
gudewife had her apron ower her face and was greeting like a bairn, and
in the door stood Tarn Farquharson, a railway-porter frae the station.
I saw it aa' quicker nor I can tell it to you, leddy. I steppit up to
Tarn and charged him simple and straught.
"'Tam, what's happent to my Alick?'
"The wet tears stood in Tarn's e'en as he answered, 'Dinna speer,
Lizzie, my puir lass, dinna speer, whan the answer maun be a waefu'
ane.'
"'Tell me the warst, Tam,' says I; 'let me hear the warst, an' pit me
oot o' my pain!'
"The words are dirlin' and stoonin' in my ears yet--
"'The engine gaed ower him, and he's lyin' dead at Market Street.'
"I didna faint, and I couldna greet. Something gied a crack inside my
head, and my e'en swam for a minute; but the next I was putting on my
bonnet and shawl and saying good-nicht to Mrs. Thomson. They tried to
stop me. I heard Tam whisper to the auld man, 'She maunna see him. He
is mangled oot o' the shape o' man.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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