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Updated: June 24, 2025
The stars were burning hard and cold in the vault of sky, and looking down somewhere on the march of an army. It was now close on midnight; in five hours dawn would break in the east and the night of attack would be gone. But death waited between this midnight hour and the morning. What were Haystoun and the men from Khautmi doing? Fighting or beyond all fighting? Well, he would soon know.
He sent his compliments to the sahibs and regretted that he had to leave too early to speak with them, but he left this note." Lewis broke the envelope and read: DEAR MR. HAYSTOUN, When I was thinking over our conversation last night, chance put a piece of information in my way which you may think fit to use. You know that I am more intimate than most people with the hill tribes.
How thankful she was that she read each week various papers which reported people's doings! A sense of bewilderment lurked in her heart. Who was this Lewis Haystoun who owned such a house and such a kindred? The hypothesis of money made in coal seemed insufficient, and with much curiosity she set herself to solve the problem. "Is Mr. Haystoun coming back to tea?" she asked by way of a preface.
Andrews claimed her company all the morning, and with the pertinacity of her kind soon guessed the very obvious secret. Her gushing congratulations drove the girl distracted. She praised the good Stocks, and Alice drank in the comfort of such words with greedy ears. From one young man she passed to another, and hung lovingly over the perfections of Mr. Haystoun.
Hoddam did not seek the company of one who was young, pretty, an heiress, and presumably flippant, but he was flattered when she plainly sought him. "Mr. Lewis Haystoun is coming here this afternoon," she had announced. "Do you know him?" "I have read his book," said her victim. "Yes, but did you not know him at Oxford? You were there with him, were you not?" "Yes, we were there together.
But coffee and cigars found him a different man. He ceased to be the enthusiast, the omnivorous and versatile inquirer, and relapsed into the ordinary good fellow, who is no cleverer than his neighbours. "We're confoundedly obliged to you," said George. "Haystoun is keen enough, but when he was out last time he seems to have been very slack about the sport."
He received the tale in half a dozen sentences, whistled, and turned to go, for he had his own work to do. One question he asked: "Who sent the telegrams?" "Haystoun and Winterham." "Then they're alone at Nazri?" "Except for the Khautmi men." "Will they try to hold it?" "I should think so. They're all sportsmen. Gad, there won't be a soul left alive." Logan galloped off with a long face.
"Ca' cannier and be a wee thing quieter in your langwidge. There's a wheen leddies comin' up the burn." It was too late. Before Lewis understood the purport of the speech Lady Manorwater and her party were at the folds, and as he made one final effort with the refractory needle a voice in his ear said: "Please let me do that, Mr. Haystoun. I've often done it before."
A roar of applause greeted the smiling orator, and when he sat down with flushed face, bright eyes, and a consciousness of having done his duty, John Sanderson, herd in Nether Callowa, rose to move a vote of confidence: "That this assembly is of opinion that Maister Lewis Haystoun is a guid man, and sae is our friend Maister Winterham, and we'll send Lewie back to Parliament or be "
Haystoun, will you do me the honour to dine with me? I am alone, and I think we might manage to find things to talk about." Lewis accepted gladly, and with one of his sweetest smiles the gentleman returned to Mrs. Logan's side. "I Have heard of you so much," Mr. Marker said, "and it was a lucky chance which brought me to Bardur to meet you."
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