The Pirate
know me, and the right I have to advise and command you.--Approach now,
proud Spirit! if thou wilt."
So saying, she extinguished the lamp, and passed out of the apartment
with her usual loftiness of step, as Minna could observe from its
measured cadence.
FOOTNOTES:
[47] The Lawting was the Comitia, or Supreme Court, of the country,
being retained both in Orkney and Zetland, and presenting, in its
constitution, the rude origin of a parliament.
[48] And from which hill of Hoy, at midsummer, the sun may be seen, it
is said, at midnight. So says the geographer Bleau, although, according
to Dr. Wallace, it cannot be the true body of the sun which is visible,
but only its image refracted through some watery cloud upon the horizon.
[49] Note VIII.--The Dwarfie Stone.
[50] Note IX.--Carbuncle on the Ward-hill.
[51] Or consecrated mountain, used by the Scandinavian priests for the
purposes of their idol-worship.
[52] _Stack._ A precipitous rock, rising out of the sea.
[53] _Skerry._ A flat insulated rock, not subject to the overflowing of
the sea.
[54] _Noup._ A round-headed eminence.
[55] _Voe._ A creek, or inlet of the sea.
[56] _Air._ An open sea-beach.
[57] _Wick._ An open bay.
[58] _Helyer._ A cavern into which the tide flows.
[59] _Gio._ A deep ravine which admits the sea.
[60] This cruelty is practised by some fishers, out of a vindictive
hatred to these ravenous fishes.
CHAPTER XX.
Is all the counsel that we two have shared--
The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
When we have chid the hasty-footed time
For parting us--O, and is all forgot?
_Midsummer-Night's Dream._
The attention of Minna was powerfully arrested by this tale of terror,
which accorded with and explained many broken hints respecting Norna,
which she had heard from her father and other near relations, and she
was for a time so lost in surprise, not unmingled with horror, that she
did not even attempt to speak to her sister Brenda. When, at length, she
called her by her name, she received no answer, and, on touching her
hand, she found it cold as ice. Alarmed to the uttermost, she threw open
the lattice and the window-shutters, and admitted at once the free air
and the pale glimmer of the hyperborean summer night. She then became
sensible that her sister was in a swoon. All thoughts concerning Norna,
her frightful tale, and her mysterious connexion with the invisible
world, at once vanished from Minna's thoughts, and she hastily ran to
the apartment of the old housekeeper, to summon her aid, without
reflecting for a moment what sights she might encounter in the long dark
passages which she had to traverse.
The old woman hastened to Brenda's assistance, and instantly applied
such remedies as her experience suggested; but the poor girl's nervous
system had been so much agitated by the horrible tale she had just
heard, that, when recovered from her swoon, her utmost endeavours to
compose her mind could not prevent her falling into a hysterical fit of
some duration. This also was subdued by the experience of old Euphane
Fea, who was well versed in all the simple pharmacy used by the natives
of Zetland, and who, after administering a composing draught, distilled
from simples and wild flowers, at length saw her patient resigned to
sleep. Minna stretched herself beside her sister, kissed her cheek, and
courted slumber in her turn; but the more she invoked it, the farther it
seemed to fly from her eyelids; and if at times she was disposed to sink
into repose, the voice of the involuntary parricide seemed again to
sound in her ears, and startled her into consciousness.
The early morning hour at which they were accustomed to rise, found the
state of the sisters different from what might have been expected. A
sound sleep had restored the spirit of Brenda's lightsome eye, and the
rose on her laughing cheek; the transient indisposition of the preceding
night having left as little trouble on her look, as the fantastic
terrors of Norna's tale had been able to impress on her imagination. The
looks of Minna, on the contrary, were melancholy, downcast, and
apparently exhausted by watching and anxiety. They said at first little
to each other, as if afraid of touching a subject so fraught with
emotion as the scene of the preceding night. It was not until they had
performed together their devotions, as usual, that Brenda, while lacing
Minna's boddice, (for they rendered the services of the toilet to each
other reciprocally,) became aware of the paleness of her sister's
looks; and having ascertained, by a glance at the mirror, that her own
did not wear the same dejection, she kissed Minna's cheek, and said
affectionately, "Claud Halcro was right, my dearest sister, when his
poetical folly gave us these names of Night and Day."
"And wherefore should you say so now?" said Minna.
"Because we each are bravest in the season that we take our name from: I
was frightened wellnigh to death, by hearing those things last night,
which you endured with courageous firmness; and now, when it is broad
light, I can think of them with composure, while you look as pale as a
spirit who is surprised by sunrise."
"You are lucky, Brenda," said her sister, gravely, "who can so soon
forget such a tale of wonder and horror."
"The horror," said Brenda, "is never to be forgotten, unless one could
hope that the unfortunate woman's excited imagination, which shows
itself so active in conjuring up apparitions, may have fixed on her an
imaginary crime."
"You believe nothing, then," said Minna, "of her interview at the
Dwarfie Stone, that wondrous place, of which so many tales are told, and
which, for so many centuries, has been reverenced as the work of a
demon, and as his abode?"
"I believe," said Brenda, "that our unhappy relative is no
impostor,--and therefore I believe that she was at the Dwarfie Stone
during a thunderstorm, that she sought shelter in it, and that, during a
swoon, or during sleep perhaps, some dream visited her, concerned with
the popular traditions with which she was so conversant; but I cannot
easily believe more."
"And yet the event," said Minna, "corresponded to the dark intimations
of the vision."
"Pardon me," said Brenda, "I rather think the dream would never have
been put into shape, or perhaps remembered at all, but for the event.
She told us herself she had nearly forgot the vision, till after her
father's dreadful death,--and who shall warrant how much of what she
then supposed herself to remember was not the creation of her own fancy,
disordered as it naturally was by the horrid accident? Had she really
seen and conversed with a necromantic dwarf, she was likely to remember
the conversation long enough--at least I am sure I should."
"Brenda," replied Minna, "you have heard the good minister of the
Cross-Kirk say, that human wisdom was worse than folly, when it was
applied to mysteries beyond its comprehension; and that, if we believed
no more than we could understand, we should resist the evidence of our
senses, which presented us, at every turn, circumstances as certain as
they were unintelligible."
"You are too learned yourself, sister," answered Brenda, "to need the
assistance of the good minister of Cross-Kirk; but I think his doctrine
only related to the mysteries of our religion, which it is our duty to
receive without investigation or doubt--but in things occurring in
common life, as God has bestowed reason upon us, we cannot act wrong in
employing it. But you, my dear Minna, have a warmer fancy than mine, and
are willing to receive all those wonderful stories for truth, because
you love to think of sorcerers, and dwarfs, and water-spirits, and
would like much to have a little trow, or fairy, as the Scotch call
them, with a green coat, and a pair of wings as brilliant as the hues of
the starling's neck, specially to attend on you."
"It would spare you at least the trouble of lacing my boddice," said
Minna, "and of lacing it wrong, too; for in the heat of your argument
you have missed two eyelet-holes."
"That error shall be presently mended," said Brenda; "and then, as one
of our friends might say, I will haul tight and belay--but you draw your
breath so deeply, that it will be a difficult matter."
"I only sighed," said Minna, in some confusion, "to think how soon you
can trifle with and ridicule the misfortunes of this extraordinary
woman."
"I do not ridicule them, God knows!" replied Brenda, somewhat angrily;
"it is you, Minna, who turn all I say in truth and kindness, to
something harsh or wicked. I look on Norna as a woman of very
extraordinary abilities, which are very often united with a strong cast
of insanity; and I consider her as better skilled in the signs of the
weather than any woman in Zetland. But that she has any power over the
elements, I no more believe, than I do in the nursery stories of King
Erick, who could make the wind blow from the point he set his cap to."
Minna, somewhat nettled with the obstinate incredulity of her sister,
replied sharply, "And yet, Brenda, this woman--half-mad woman, and the
veriest impostor--is the person by whom you choose to be advised in the
matter next your own heart at this moment!"
"I do not know what you mean," said Brenda, colouring deeply, and
shifting to get away from her sister. But as she was now undergoing the
ceremony of being laced in her turn, her sister had the means of holding
her fast by the silken string with which she was fastening the boddice,
and, tapping her on the neck, which expressed, by its sudden writhe, and
sudden change to a scarlet hue, as much pettish confusion as she had
desired to provoke, she added, more mildly, "Is it not strange, Brenda,
that, used as we have been by the stranger Mordaunt Mertoun, whose
assurance has brought him uninvited to a house where his presence is so
unacceptable, you should still look or think of him with favour? Surely,
that you do so should be a proof to you, that there are such things as
spells in the country, and that you yourself labour under them. It is
not for nought that Mordaunt wears a chain of elfin gold--look to it,
Brenda, and be wise in time."
"I have nothing to do with Mordaunt Mertoun," answered Brenda, hastily,
"nor do I know or care what he or any other young man wears about his
neck. I could see all the gold chains of all the bailies of Edinburgh,
that Lady Glowrowrum speaks so much of, without falling in fancy with
one of the wearers." And, having thus complied with the female rule of
pleading not guilty in general to such an indictment, she immediately
resumed, in a different tone, "But, to say the truth, Minna, I think
you, and all of you, have judged far too hastily about this young friend
of ours, who has been so long our most intimate companion. Mind,
Mordaunt Mertoun is no more to me than he is to you--who best know how
little difference he made betwixt us; and that, chain or no chain, he
lived with us like a brother with two sisters; and yet you can turn him
off at once, because a wandering seaman, of whom we know nothing, and a
peddling jagger, whom we do know to be a thief, a cheat, and a liar,
speak words and carry tales in his disfavour! I do not believe he ever
said he could have his choice of either of us, and only waited to see
which was to have Burgh-Westra and Bredness Voe--I do not believe he
ever spoke such a word, or harboured such a thought, as that of making a
choice between us."
"Perhaps," said Minna, coldly, "you may have had reason to know that his
choice was already determined."
"I will not endure this!" said Brenda, giving way to her natural
vivacity, and springing from between her sister's hands; then turning