The Wizard's Son, Vol. 2 (of 3)Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Wizard's Son, Vol. 2 (of 3)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Great Britain -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Supernatural -- Fiction
"I would like to answer the summons," cried Katie, with a laugh. "I
would send for the health inspector, from Glasgow, and clear it all out,
every old crevice, and all the perilous stuff. That would be the thing
to do. As for the warlock lord, papa shall invite him to dinner if you
will find out where he is to be met with, Tom."
"Like the commandant in _Don Giovanni_," somebody said; and there was an
echoing laugh, but of a feeble kind.
Walter heard this conversation with a sort of forlorn amusement. He was
not excited; his blood was rather congealed than quickened in his veins.
But he lingered behind, taking no notice of his late companions as they
streamed away to the boats. He seemed in a moment to have been parted
miles--nay, worlds away from them. When he thought of the interview that
was before him, and of the light-hearted strangers making comments upon
the legend of the place with laugh and jest, it seemed to him that he
and they could scarcely belong to the same race. He lingered, with no
heart for the farewells and explanations that would be necessary if he
left them formally: and turning round gazed steadfastly towards Kinloch
Houran from behind the shade of the shrubbery. Here Oona found him, as
she rushed back to warn him that the boats were pushing off. She began
breathlessly--
"Lord Erradeen, you are called--" then stopped, looked at him, and said
no more.
He did not answer her for a moment, but stood still, and listened to the
sounds below, the impatient call, the plash of the oars in the water,
the grating of the keel of the last boat as it was pushed off. Then he
looked at Oona, with a smile.
"I am called--?" he said, "but not that way. Now I must go home."
Her heart beat so that she could scarcely speak. Was this spell to take
possession of her again, against her will, without any wish of his, like
some enchantment? She fought against it with all her might.
"If that is so," she said, "Hamish will put you across, when you
please."
He took no notice of these indifferent words.
"This time," he said, "it is altogether different. I know what is going
to happen, and I am not afraid. But it must come to an end."
What was it to her if it came to an end or not? She tried to check the
quick-rising sympathy, to offer no response.
"They will be late on the water, but I hope they will get home before
dark," she replied.
Then he looked at her wistfully, with a look that melted her very heart.
"Don't you know that it will never come to an end unless you stand by
me?" he cried.
CHAPTER XIV.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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