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Updated: June 17, 2025
Lord Rintoul strode to the door, and the brake was off his tongue already. "Go," said Babbie coldly, "and shout and stamp through the house; you may succeed in frightening the women, who are the only persons in it." "Where is he?" "He has gone to the Spittal to see you." "He knew I was on the hill." "He lost me in the darkness, and thought you had run away with me in your trap." "Ha!
His step was sometimes quite springy when he left the Spittal; but Grizel's shadow was always waiting for him somewhere on the way home, to take the life out of him, and after that it was again, oh, sorrowful disillusion! oh, world gone gray! Grizel did not admire him. T. Sandys was no longer a wonder to Grizel. He went home to that as surely as the labourer to his evening platter.
He went to the Spittal several times, Elspeth with him when she cared to go; for Lady Rintoul and all the others had to learn and remember that, unless they made much of Elspeth, there could be no T. Sandys for them. He glared at anyone, male or female, who, on being introduced to Elspeth, did not remain, obviously impressed, by her side.
My hour of trouble came, and a fatherless laddie was born into this weary world, the very picture o' him that was sleeping under the tree in the Spittal Kirkyard. I needna tell ye I christened him Alick, and the bairn has been my joy and comfort ever since God gifted me with him.
Once the headquarters of smuggling on our eastern coast, and built as it is well known was also built a certain street of small houses in Spittal with countless facilities for promoting the operations of "Free Trade," and with "bolt-holes" innumerable for the smugglers when close pressed by gangers, Eyemouth is still a quaint little town, huddling its strangely squeezed-up houses in narrow lanes and wynds betwixt river and bay.
I spoke on the impulse, thinking to allay his desire to be off; but he said, "Then I may yet be in time." Somewhat cruelly I let him rise, that he might realize his weakness. Every bone in him cried out at his first step, and he sank into a chair. "You will go to the Spittal for me?" he implored. "I will not," I told him. "You are asking me to fling away my life."
Yet in two hours he had walked perhaps nine miles without being four miles nearer the Spittal. In that flood the glen milestones were three miles apart. For some time he had been following the dog doubtfully, for it seemed to be going too near the river. When they struck a cart- track, however, he concluded rightly that they were nearing a bridge.
But its red-roofed houses, rising steeply from the left bank of the Tweed, and looking across the tidal river to the villages of Tweedmouth and Spittal, have a picturesqueness of their own, whether they are seen when the lights and shadows of a summer day are playing upon them, or when they are swathed in the white folds of a North Sea haar.
I had to hold him down in bed. "You are too weak to stand, man," I said, "and yet you think you could start off this minute for the Spittal." "I must go," he cried. "She is my wife. That impious marriage may have taken place already." "Oh, that it had!" was my prayer. "It has not," I said to him. "A cannon is to be fired immediately after the ceremony, and all the glen will hear it."
When I was taking a walk the other night your Belgian wouldn't let me into the policies, but I went down the glen what's that they call it? the Garple Dean I got round the back where the old ruin stands and I had a good look at the House. I tell you there was somebody in it." "It would be Spittal, who acts as caretaker." "It was not. It was a woman. I saw her on the verandah."
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