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"Then you saw Ian's mother and sister?" asked Thora. "No, I did not. They had gone for the winter to the Bridge of Allan. Mrs. Macrae is sick, her husband seemed unhappy about her." Rahal hoped now that her home would settle itself into its usual calm, methodical order.
The chief enters, and takes from the wall an old-fashioned gun. He wants a bird or two, for Ian's home-coming is a great event. "I saw a big stag last night down by the burn, sir," said the girl, "feeding as if he had been the red cow." "I don't want him to-day, Nancy," returned her master. "Had he big horns?" "Great horns, sir; but it was too dark to count the tines." "When was it?
It had been floated, like many other houses, from its foundation, and, having been caught by a diverging current, had been stranded on the lawn at the side of Mr Ravenshaw's house so as to completely shut out the view in that direction. Intense amusement followed Ian's feeling of surprise.
Ian's dancing, Christina said, was French; Mercy said all she knew was that the chief took the work and left her only the motion: she felt as in a dream of flying. Before the evening was over, the young men had so far gained on Christina that Mr. Sercombe looked a little commonplace. The dancing began about six o'clock, and at ten it was time for supper.
With a feeling of baffled rage he suddenly thought of murder. He could easily kill Ian Macdonald, could probably reload before Rollin should overtake him, and as for Victor, he was nothing! Quick as thought the Indian raised his gun, and took a long steady aim at Ian's forehead. The contemplative schoolmaster was looking at the fire, thinking of Elsie at the time. He smiled as he thought of her.
Models went in and out of Ian's studio and the studios of others, and Gaston chatted with them at times; and once he felt the bare arm and bare breast of a girl as she sat for a nymph, and said in an interested way that her flesh was as firm and fine as a Tongan's. He even disputed with his uncle on the tints of her skin, on seeing him paint it in, showing a fine eye for colour.
His side-charge, with no turn which the eye could follow, carried him under the point of Ian's thrust in direct drive at the black Arab's belly. Kala Khan was standing straight up, yet they heard his scream. The boar's head seemed on a swivel as he passed beneath.
It was not the Jew or the angels, however, that held Ian's attention, and whose outlines he was tracing with his forefinger, but the devils, one big fellow with cows' horns and wings drooping like those of a moulting crow, and a bevy of imps with young horns and curly tails who were pulling a half-buried body toward the fiery pit by its hair.
They walked along the terrace to the porch. "They're bringing you Black Alan to ride away upon. But you'll come again as soon as Ian's here?" "Yes, of course. You may be assured that if he is free of that Stewart coil or if he is in it only so deep that he may yet free himself I shall say all that I can to keep him free or to urge him forth. Not for much would I see Ian take ship in that attempt!"
He was silent with disgust at the nonsense of it all. They reached the door of the cottage. Alister invited him to walk in. He drew back, and would have excused himself. "You had better lie down a while," said Alister. "You shall come to my room," said Ian. "We shall meet nobody." Sercombe yielded, for he felt queer. He threw himself on Ian's bed, and in a few minutes was fast asleep.
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