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Updated: June 15, 2025
The new president would certainly try to disown the debt. Kit, however, had known that Adam's staunchness might cost him much, and something might, perhaps, be saved. He had had enough of the country, and as soon as he could straighten out the tangle in which the revolution had involved Adam's business he was going back to Ashness. "Heave your anchor when you're ready," he said to Mayne.
In the meantime, it was rash to think about her much, although his thoughts returned to the stile beneath the alders where he had watched the sun and shadow play about her face. The sun had sunk behind the moors when Peter Askew sat by an open window in his big, slate-flagged kitchen at Ashness. All was quiet outside, except for the hoarse turmoil of the force and a distant bleating of sheep.
He always finds a way when there is something hard to be done." "Ah," said Mrs. Osborn, "there is comfort in our troubles since they have given you a man you can trust." Grace went to Ashness and found Kit studying some accounts in the room she called his museum. "Put the books away, come to the fire and talk to me," said Grace, and stopped him when he moved a chair.
In the afternoon he left the mission, and a week later reached Havana, where he found a cablegram waiting. He got a shock when he opened it, and stood for a time with the message crumpled in his hand, for it told him that Peter Askew was dying at Ashness. Then he sat down on the long, arcaded veranda of the hotel, with a poignant sense of loss, for the last blow was heavier than the first.
I'd reckoned on going with you, but that's done with." Kit said nothing. The doctor had come and gone, for he was needed elsewhere and could not help the sick man. One could indulge him and make things comfortable for a few days but that was all, he said, and Kit saw that Adam knew. By and by the latter resumed: "I've been thinking about Peter and Ashness.
It was obvious that Adam knew the family history, for Christopher Askew was a turbulent Jacobite who lost the most part of his estate when he joined Prince Charlie's starving Highlanders in the rearguard fight at Clifton Moor. Afterwards the sober quietness at Ashness had now and then been disturbed by an Askew who inherited the first Kit's reckless temperament.
He had said he could help and one could trust him, but he did not come and the confidence she had felt was vanishing. If it was not well placed, there was no escape for her, and she shrank with horror from meeting Thorn's demand. The shadows got longer, but nothing moved on the road that ran like a white riband across the fields until it vanished among the trees at Ashness.
On the last evening of the week, a number of the co-operators met in the kitchen at Ashness and for a time talked about the weather and the price of sheep. Askew let them talk and Kit was too preoccupied to give them a lead.
The goods must be delivered and then Kit would let the business go. When he reached the office he wrote a cablegram to Andrew at Ashness and another to Mayne, who had left Havana before Kit arrived. Dusk was falling and Kit urged his tired mule up the winding road. His skin was grimed with dust, for he had ridden hard in scorching heat, and was anxious and impatient to get on.
"Mayhappen it's better that you should gan," he said quietly. Kit read the letter and looked up with a strained expression. "I never thought I'd want to leave Ashness and I feel a selfish brute! All the same it would be a relief." "Just that!" said Peter. "I'll miss you when you've gone, but it's no' my part to stand in your way. We'll write Adam to-morrow and tell him you'll come."
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