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Updated: May 21, 2025
He thought Donal was boring his guests, and at the same time preventing Gibbie from having the pleasure in their society for the sake of which they had been invited. Donal rose, replying, "Think ye sae, sir? I thoucht I was in auld Scotlan' still here as weel's upo' Glashgar. But may be my jography buik's some auld-fashioned. Didna ye un'erstan' me, mem?" he added, turning to Ginevra.
In the dull light, and with the imperfect means of Gibbie for the embodiment of his thoughts, Ginevra misunderstood him. "Yea, Gibbie," she said, "I would. I thought it was understood between us, ever since that day you found me on Glashgar. In my thoughts I have been yours all the time." She turned her face to the lamp-post. But Gibbie made her look.
Ginevra told her everything except that her father had struck her, and Gibbie begged her to keep his wife for him till they could be married. Mrs. Sclater behaved like a mother to them, sent Gibbie away, and Ginevra to a hot bath and to bed. Gibbie went home as if Pearl-street had been the stairs of Glashgar, and the Auld Hoose a mansion in the heavens.
Nor was Glashgar the only torrent-bearing mountain of Gormgarnet that day, though the rain prevented Gibbie from seeing anything of what the rest of them were doing. The fountains of the great deep were broken up, and seemed rushing together to drown the world. And still the wind was raging, and the rain tumbling to the earth, rather in sheets than in streams.
By the time he had finished, his usual day for going home had arrived: while Janet lived, the cottage on Glashgar was home. Just as he was leaving, the minister told him that Glashruach was his. Mrs. Sclater was present, and read in his eyes what induced her instantly to make the remark: "How could that man deprive his daughter of the property he had to take her mother's name to get!"
It became, of course, before very long, well known about the country that Mr. Duff's crofters upon Glashgar had taken in and were bringing up a foundling some said an innocent, some said a wild boy who helped Robert with his sheep, and Janet with her cow, but could not speak a word of either Gaelic or English.
Gibbie was a better runner for his size than Fergus, and in better training too; but, alas! Fergus's legs were nearly twice as long as Gibbie's. The little one reached the Lorrie, first, and dashing across it, ran up the side of the Glashburn, with a vague idea of Glashgar in his head. Fergus behind him was growing more and more angry as he gained upon him but felt his breath failing him.
Change, meantime, was in progress elsewhere, and as well upon the foot as high on the side of Glashgar change which seemed all important to those who felt the grind of the glacier as it slipped.
And then for the first time Gibbie reflected, that, when he ran about the streets, he had never been taken home except once, to be put under the rod and staff of the old woman. If Janet had been like the rest of them, he would have died upon Glashgar, or be now wandering about the country, doing odd jobs for half-pence! He must not do like other people would not, could not, dared not be like them!
The turret he carried a story higher than the wall, and in the wall placed a stair leading to its top, whence, over the roof of the ancient part of the house, might be seen the great Glashgar, and its streams coming down from heaven, and singing as they came.
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