"That is neither here nor there. He is a Scot. I may marry like the rest of the world, but while my life days last, Sunna Vedder will not marry a Scot."
"Yes--but there was some talk that way. My aunt heard it. My aunt hears everything."
"I will tell thee, talk that way was all lies. No one will Sunna Vedder marry, that is not of her race." Then she put her arms round Eric, and kissed his wan face, calling him "her own little Norseman!"
"Tell me, Sunna, what is happening in the town?" said he.
"Well, then, not much now. Men are talking of the war, and going to the war, and empty is the town. About the war, art thou sorry?"
"No, I am glad----
"How glorious the valiant, sword in hand, In front of battle for their native land!"
And he raised his small, thin hands, and his face glowed, and he looked like a young St. Michael.
Then Max lifted the globe and books aside and put his chair close to his brother"s. "Eric has the soul of a soldier," he said, "and the sound of drums and trumpets stirs him like the cry of fire."
"And so it happens, Mr. Grant, that we have much noise lately from the trumpets and the fife and drums."
"Yes, man is a military animal, he loves parade," answered Max.
"But in this war, there is much more than parade."
"You are right, Miss Vedder. It was prompted by that gigantic heart-throb with which, even across oceans, we feel each other"s rights and wrongs. And in this way we learn best that we are men and brothers. Can a man do more for a wrong than give his life to right it?"
Then Eric cried out with hysterical pa.s.sion: "I wish only that I might have my way with Aberdeen! Oh, the skulking cowards who follow him!
Max! Max! If you would mount our father"s big war horse and hold me in front of you and ride into the thick of the battle, and let me look on the cold light of the lifted swords! Oh, the shining swords! They shake! They cry out! The lives of men are in them! Max! Max! I want to die--on a--battlefield!"
And Max held the weeping boy in his arms, and bowed his head over him and whispered words too tender and sacred to be written down.
For a while Eric was exhausted; he lay still watching his brother and Sunna, and listening to their conversation. They were talking of the excitement in London, and of the pressure of the clergy putting down the reluctancies and falterings of the peace men.
"Have you heard, Miss Vedder," said Grant, "that one of the bishops decided England"s call to war by a wonderful sermon in St. Paul"s?"
"I am sorry to be ignorant. Tell me."
"He preached from Jeremiah, Fourth Chapter and Sixth Verse; and his closing cry was from Nahum, Second Chapter and First Verse, "Set up the standard toward Zion. Stay not, for I will bring evil from the north and a great destruction," and he closed with Nahum"s advice, "He that dasheth in pieces is come up before thy face, keep the munition, watch the way, make thy loins strong, fortify thy power mightily.""
"Well, then, how went the advice?"
"I know not exactly. It is hard to convince commerce and cowardice that at certain times war is the highest of all duties. Neither of them understand patriotism; and yet every trembling pacifist in time of war is a misfortune to his country."
"And the country will give them--what?" asked Sunna.
"The cold, dead d.a.m.nation of a disgrace they will never outlive,"
answered Max.
There was a sharp cry from Eric at these words, and then a pa.s.sionate childish exclamation--"Not bad enough! Not bad enough!" he screamed.
"Oh, if I had a sword and a strong hand! I would cut them up in slices!" Then with an hysterical cry the boy fell backward.
In an instant Max had him in his arms and was whispering words of promise and consolation, and just then, fortunately, Mrs. Beaton entered with a servant who was carrying a service of tea and m.u.f.fins.
It was a welcome diversion and both Max and Sunna were glad of it. Max gently unloosed Eric"s hand from Sunna"s clasp and then they both looked at the child. He had fallen into a sleep of exhaustion and Max said, "It is well. When he is worn out with feeling, such sleeps alone save his life. I am weary, also. Let us have a cup of tea." So they sat down and talked of everything but the war--"He would hear us in his sleep," said Max, "and he has borne all he is able to bear today."
Then Sunna said:
"Right glad am I to put a stop to such a trouble-raising subject. War is a thing by itself, and all that touches it makes people bereft of their senses or some other good thing. Here has come news of Thora Ragnor"s hurried marriage, but no one knows or cares about the strange things happening at our doorstep. Such haste is not good I fear."
"Does Ragnor approve of it?" asked Mrs. Beaton.
"Thora"s marriage is all right. They fell in love with each other the moment they met. No other marriage is possible for either. It is this, or none at all," answered Sunna.
"I heard the man was the son of a great Edinburgh preacher."
"Yes, the Rev. Dr. Macrae, of St. Mark"s."
"That is what I heard. He is a good man, but a very hard one."
"If he is hard, he is not good."
"Thou must not say that, little Miss; it may be the Episcopalian belief, but we Calvinists have a stronger faith--a faith fit for men and soldiers of the Lord."
"There! Mrs. Beaton, you are naming soldiers. That is against our agreement to drop war talk. About Macrae I know nothing. He is not aware that anyone but Thora Ragnor lives; and I was not in the least attracted by him--his black hair and black eyes repelled me--I dislike such men."
"Will they live in Edinburgh?"
"I believe they will live in Kirkwall. Mrs. Ragnor owns a pretty house, which she will give them. She is going to put it in order and furnish it from the roof to the foundation. Thora is busy about her napery--the finest of Irish linen and damask. Now then, I must hurry home. My grandfather will be waiting his tea."
Max rose with her. He looked at his little brother and said: "Aunt, he will sleep now for a few hours, will you watch him till I return?"
"Will I not? You know he is as safe with me as yourself, Max."
So with an acknowledging smile of content, he took Sunna"s hand and led her slowly down the stairway. There was a box running all across the sill of the long window, lighting the stairs, and it was full and running over with the delicious muck plant. Sunna laid her face upon its leaves for a moment, and the whole place was thrilled with its heavenly perfume. Then she smiled at Max and his heart trembled with joy; yet he said a little abruptly--"Let us make haste. The night grows cloudy."
Their way took them through the village, and Sunna knew that she would, in all likelihood, be the first woman ever seen in Maximus Grant"s company. The circ.u.mstance was pleasant to her, and she carried herself with an air and manner that she readily caught and copied from him. She knew that there was a face at every window, but she did not turn her head one way or the other. Max was talking to her about the Sagas and she had a personal interest in the Sagas, and any ambition she had to be socially popular was as yet quite undeveloped.
At the point where the Vedder and Ragnor roads crossed each other, two men were standing, talking. They were Ragnor and Vedder, and Ragnor was at once aware of the ident.i.ty of the couple approaching; but Vedder appeared so unaware, that Ragnor remarked: "I see Sunna, Vedder, coming up the road, and with her is Colonel Max Grant."
"But why "Colonel," Ragnor?"
"When General Grant died his son was a colonel in the Life Guards. He left the army to care for his brother. I heard that the Queen praised him for doing so."
Then the couple were so close, that it was impossible to affect ignorance of their presence any longer; and the old men turned and saluted the young couple. "I thank thee, Colonel," said Vedder, as he "changed hats" with the Colonel, "but now I can relieve thee of the charge thou hast taken. I am going home and Sunna will go with me; but if thou could call on an old man about some business, there is a matter I would like to arrange with thee."
"I could go home with you now, Vedder, if that would be suitable."
"Nay, it would be too much for me tonight. It is concerning that waste land on the Stromness road, near the little bridge. I would like to build a factory there."
"That would be to my pleasure and advantage. I will call on you and talk over the matter, at any time you desire."
"Well and good! Say tomorrow at two o"clock."