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Updated: June 22, 2025
To take the comfort of his presence, to give the light of his countenance to the smitten, was a part of his sacred function. These accidents were among the sore trials incident to a cure of souls. The Reverend Nicholas had brushed himself spick-and-span that morning, and, taking up his gold-headed cane, had walked the two miles to Shoulthwaite. Rotha was tying the ribbons of Mrs.
This was the sort of young woman that Angus liked best. "Rotha's a right heartsome lassie," he said, as he heard her in the dairy singing while she worked. The dame of Shoulthwaite loved every one, apparently, but there were special corners in her heart for her favorites, and Rotha was one of them.
Robbie had put his arm on Monsey's shoulder and swung him round, and Ralph heard no more. But yester-night I prayed aloud In anguish and in agony. Coleridge. The night was far advanced, and yet Ralph had not returned to Shoulthwaite. It was three hours since Matthew Branthwaite had left the Moss. Mrs. Ray still sat before the turf fire and gazed into it in silence.
In spite of this determined disbelief on the part of the head of the family, old Wilson remained for a long time a member of the household at Shoulthwaite Moss, following his occupations with constancy, and always obsequious in the acknowledgment of his obligations.
"That wise brain of yours should have jumped my meaning; it is that Angus Ray was as much a traitor as his son Ralph Ray, and that if the body of the latter is not delivered to judgment within fourteen days, the whole estate of Shoulthwaite will be forfeited to the Crown as the property of a felon and of the outlawed son of a felon."
The frank, upturned face answered him but too well. They were within the shadow of the trees now, and could see the lights at Shoulthwaite. In two minutes more their journey would be done. "Take my hand, Rotha; you might slip on the frosty road in darkness like this." The words were scarcely spoken, when Rotha gave a little cry and stumbled.
On the afternoon of the third day of Robbie's illness it was Sunday Rotha Stagg left her own peculiar invalid in the care of one of the farm women and walked over to Mattha's house. Willy Ray had not returned from Carlisle. He had exchanged scarcely six words with her since the interview previously recorded. Rotha had not come to Shoulthwaite for Willy's satisfaction.
The schoolmaster had walked demurely enough thus far; nor did the departure of the clergyman effect a sensible elevation of his spirits. Of all the mourners, the "laal limber Frenchman" was the most mournful. It was a cheerless winter morning when they set out from Shoulthwaite. The wind had never fallen since the terrible night of the death of Angus.
Ray to her husband, as she was spinning in the kitchen at Shoulthwaite Moss, "I am thinking," she said, stopping the wheel and running her fingers through the wool, "that Willy is partial to the little tailor's winsome lass." "And what aboot Ralph?" asked Angus. On the evening of the day upon which old Wilson was expected back at Fornside, Ralph Ray turned in at the tailor's cottage.
It was remarked that Justice Hide muttered something about a "writ of error," and that when he rose from the bench he motioned the sheriff to follow him. Early next morning Willy Ray arrived at Shoulthwaite, splashed from head to foot, worn and torn. He had ridden hard from Carlisle, but not so fast but that two unwelcome visitors were less than half an hour's ride behind him.
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