“Ou ay, my lord.  Except maybe the minister.  He’s no weel.  He’s missing Miss Helen sair.”

“Missing Miss Helen!” echoed the earl, turning pale.

“Ay, my lord.  She gaed awa—­it’s just twa days sin syne.  She was sair vexed to leave Cairnforth and the minister.”

“Leave her father?”

“A man maun leave father and mither, and cleave unto his wife—­the scripture says it.  And a woman maun just do the like for her man, ye ken.  Miss Helen’s awa to France, or some sic place, wi’ her husband, Captain Bruce.”

The earl was sitting in the stern of the ferry-boat alone, no one being near him but Sandy, and Malcolm, who had taken the second oar.  To old Sandy’s communication he replied not a word—­asked not a single question more—­and was lifted out at the end of the five-minutes’ passage just as usual.  But the two men, though they also said nothing, remembered the expression of his face to their dying day.

“Take me home, Malcolm; I will go to the Manse another time.  Carry me in your arms—­the quickest way.”

Malcolm lifted his master, and carried him, just as in the days when the earl was a child, through the pleasant woods of Cairnforth, up to the Castle door.

Nobody had expected them, and there was nothing ready.

“It’s no matter—­no matter,” feebly said the earl, and allowed himself to be placed in an arm-chair by the fire in the housekeeper’s room.  There he sat passive.

“Will I bring the minister?” whispered Malcolm, respectfully.  “Maybe ye wad like to see him, my lord.”

“No, no.”

“His lordship’s no weel please,” said the housekeeper to Mrs. Campbell, when the earl leant his head back, and seemed to be sleeping.  “Is it about the captain’s marriage:  Did he no ken?”

“Ne’er a word o’t”

“That was great lack o’respect on the part o’ Captain Bruce, and he sic a pleasant young man; and Helen, too.  Miss Helen tauld me her ain sel that the earl was greatly set upon her marriage, for the captain gaed to Edinburg just to tell him o’t.  And he wrote her word that his lordship wished him no to bide a single day, but to marry Miss Helen and tak her awa’.  She’d never hae done it, in my opinion, but for that.  For the captain was at her ilka day an a’ day lang, looking like a ghaist, and telling’ her he couldna live without her—­she’s a tender heart, Miss Helen—­and she was sae awfu’ vexed for him, ye ken.  For, sure, Malcolm, the captain did seem almost like deein’.”

“Deein’!” cried Malcolm, contemptuously, and then stopped.  For while they were talking the earl’s eyes had open wide, and fixed with a strange, sad, terrified look upon vacancy.

He remembered it all now—­the last night he had spent at Cairnforth with his cousin—­the conversation which passed between them—­the questions asked, which, from his not answering, might have enabled the captain to guess at the probable disposal of his property.  He could come to no other conclusion than that Captain Bruce had married Helen with the same motive which must have induced his appearance at the castle, and his eager and successful efforts to ingratiate himself there —­namely, money; that the fortune which he had himself missed might accrue to him through his union with Lord Cairnforth’s heiress.