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Updated: June 17, 2025
Greatorix laughed. "The land lies that way, does it?" he said. "Then that's why you would not give me a kiss to-day, Jess," he went on; "the black coat has routed the red baith but an' ben but we'll see. You cannot both have him, Jess, and if you are so very fond of the parson, ye'll maybe help me to keep Winsome Charteris to myself." "Wad ye mairry her gin ye had the chance, Agnew Greatorix?"
So unexpected was the assault that, strong man as Greatorix was, he had not the least chance of resistance. He reeled at the sudden constriction of his throat by hands that hardly seemed human, so wide was their clutch, so terrible the stringency of their grasp.
Agnew Greatorix laid Winsome down on the heather, lifeless and still, her pure white face resting in a nest of golden curls, the red band of her mother's Indian shawl behind all.
Now, the captain was neither an obliging nor yet a particularly amiable young man, and when he took so kindly to fetching and carrying, it was not long before the broad world of farm towns and herds' cot-houses upon which Greatorix Castle looked down suspected a motive, and said so in its own way.
Then she had despatched Jock Gordon with "Winsome's real letter to Greatorix Castle; in answer to the supposed summons, which was genuine enough, though not meant for him, Agnew Greatorix had come to the hill gate, and Jess had met Ralph by the bridge to play her own cards as best she could for herself. "How wicked!" said Winsome, "after all."
"Walter Skirving and his spouse do not receive company of such dignity; and besides them there are only the maids that I know of." "Who made you my father confessor?" mocked Agnew Greatorix, with an unpleasant sneer on his handsome face. "The right of being minister in the things of the Spirit to all that dwell in Craig Ronald House," said the minister of the Marrow firmly.
Two maids and a boy, a demon boy, in buttons, who dwelt below- stairs and gave his time to the killing of rats with ingenious catapults and crossbows, completed the household except Agnew Greatorix. The exception was a notable one.
So, since the author of Waverley began to write his inimitable fictions, and his mother to divide her time between works of devotion and the adventures of Ivanhoe and Nigel, Agnew Greatorix had made many pilgrimages to Craig Ronald.
With a great effort she forced herself back a step from him, and just as she felt the breath of his mouth upon hers her heart made way through her lips. "Ralph! Ralph! Help me help! Oh, come to me!" she cried in her extremity of terror and the oncoming rigour of unconsciousness. The next moment she dropped limp and senseless into the arms of Agnew Greatorix.
Next he brought water to throw over the face and neck of Greatorix, which Jock Gordon in his fury had made to look like nothing human. The rest might wait. It was Ralph's first care to get Winsome home. Kneeling down beside her he soothed her with whispered words, till the piteous sobbing in her throat stilled itself.
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