"Three o'clock would be better for me."

"So, let it be." Then he took Sunna's hand and she understood that her walk with Grant was over. She thanked Max for his courtesy, sent a message to Eric, and then said her good night with a look into his eyes which dirled in his heart for hours afterwards. Some compliments pa.s.sed between the men and then she found herself walking home with her grandfather.

"Thou ought not to have seen me, Grandfather," she said a little crossly, "I was having such a lovely walk."

"I did not want to see thee, and have I not arranged for thee something a great deal better on tomorrow's afternoon?"

"One never knows----"

"Listen; he is to come at three o'clock, it will be thy fault if he leaves at four. Thou can make tea for him--thou can walk in the greenhouse and the garden with him, thou can sing for him--no, let him sing for thee--thou can ask him to help thee with 'The Banded Men'--and if he goes away before eight o'clock I will say to thee--'take the first man that asks thee for thou hast no woman-witchery with which to pick and choose!' Grant is a fine man.

If thou can win him, thou wins something worth while. He has always held himself apart. His father was much like him. All of them soldiers and proud as men are made, these confounded, democratic days."

"And what of Boris?" asked Sunna.

"May Boris rest wherever he is! Thou could not compare Boris with Maximus Grant."

"That is the truth. In many ways they are not comparable. Boris is a rough, pa.s.sionate man. Grant is a gentleman. Always I thought there was something common in me; that must be the reason why I prefer Boris."

"To vex me, thou art saying such untruthful words. I know thy contradictions! Go now and inquire after my tea. I am in want of it."

During tea, nothing further was said of Maximus Grant; but Sunna was in a very merry mood, and Adam watched her, and listened to her in a philosophical way;--that is, he tried to make out amid all her persiflage and bantering talk what was her ruling motive and intent--a thing no one could have been sure of, unless they had heard her talking to herself--that mysterious confidence in which we all indulge, and in which we all tell ourselves the truth. Sunna was undressing her hair and folding away her clothing as she visited this confessional, but her revelations were certainly honest, even if fragmentary, and full of doubt and uncertainty.

"Grant, indeed!" she exclaimed, "I am not ready for Grant--I believe I am afraid of the man--he would make me over--make me like himself--in a month he would do it--I like Boris best! I should quarrel with Boris, of course, and we should say words neither polite nor kind to each other; but then Boris would do as that blessed child said, 'Look at me'; and I should look at him, and the making-up would begin.

Heigh-ho! I wish it could begin tonight!" She was silent then for a few minutes, and in a sadder voice added--"with Max I should become an angel--and I should have a life without a ripple--I would hate it, just as I hate the sea when it lies like a mirror under the sunshine--then I always want to scream out for a great north wind and the sea in a pa.s.sion, shattering everything in its way. If I got into that mood with Max, we should have a most unpleasant time----" and she laughed and tossed her pillows about, and then having found a comfortable niche in one of them, she tucked her handsome head into it and in a few moments the sleep of youth and perfect health lulled her into a secret garden in the Land of Dreams.

The next day Sunna appeared to be quite oblivious regarding Grant's visit and Vedder was too well acquainted with his granddaughter to speak of it. He only noticed that she was dressed with a peculiar simplicity and neatness. At three o'clock Grant was promptly at the Vedder House, and at half-past four the land in question had been visited and subsequently bought and sold. Then the cup of tea came in, and the walk in the garden followed, and at six there was an ample meal, and during the singing that followed it, Vedder fell fast asleep, as was his custom, and when he awoke Grant was just going and the clock was striking ten. Vedder looked at Sunna and there was no need for him to speak.

"It was 'The Banded Men,'" said Sunna with a straight look at her grandfather.

"Well, then, I know a woman who is a match for any number of 'banded men.'"

"And in all likelihood that woman will be a Vedder. Good night, Grandfather."

CHAPTER VII

THE CALL OF WAR

I came not to send peace but a sword.

--_Matt. x, 34._

For when I note how n.o.ble Nature's form Under the war's red pain, I deem it true That He who made the earthquake and the storm, Perchance made battles too.

The summer pa.s.sed rapidly away for it was full of new interests.

Thora's wedding was to take place about Christmas or New Year, and there were no ready-made garments in those days; so all of her girl friends were eager to help her needle. Sunna spent half the day with her and all their small frets and jealousies were forgotten. Early in the morning the work was lifted, and all day long it went happily on, to their light-hearted hopes and dreams. Then in June and September Ian came to Kirkwall to settle his account with McLeod, and at the same time, he remained a week as the Ragnors' guest. There was also Sunna's intended visit to Edinburgh to talk about, and there was never a day in which the war and its preparations did not make itself prominent.

One of the pleasantest episodes of this period occurred early and related to Sunna. One morning she received a small box from London, and she was so amazed at the circ.u.mstance, that she kept examining the address and wondering "who could have sent it," instead of opening the box. However, when this necessity had been observed, it revealed to her a square leather case, almost like those used for jewelry, and her heart leaped high with expectation. It was something, however, that pleased her much more than jewelry; it was a likeness of Boris, a daguerreotype--the first that had ever reached Kirkwall. A narrow sc.r.a.p of paper was within the clasp, on which Boris had written, "I am all thine! Forget me not!"

Sunna usually made a pretense of despising anything sentimental but this example filled her heart with joy and satisfaction. And after it, she took far greater pleasure in all the circ.u.mstances relating to Thora's marriage; for she had gained a personal interest in them. Even the details of the ceremony were now discussed and arranged in accord with Sunna's taste and suggestions.

"The altar and nave must be decorated with flags and evergreens and all the late flowers we can secure," she said.

"There will not be many flowers, I fear," answered Mistress Ragnor.

"The Grants have a large greenhouse. I shall ask them to save all they possibly can. Maximus Grant delights in doing a kindness."

"Then thou must ask him, Sunna. He is thy friend--perhaps thy lover.

So the talk goes."

"Let them talk! My lover is far away. G.o.d save him!"

"Where then?"

"Where all good and fit men are gone--to the trenches. For my lover is much of a man, strong and brave-hearted. He adores his country, his home, and his kindred. He counts honour far above money; and liberty, more than life. My lover will earn the right to marry the girl he loves, and become the father of free men and women!" And Rahal answered proudly and tenderly:

"Thou art surely meaning my son Boris."

"Indeed, thou art near to the truth."

Then Rahal put her arm round Sunna and kissed her. "Thou hast made me happy," she said, and Sunna made her still more happy, when she took out of the little bag fastened to her belt the daguerreotype and showed her the strong, handsome face of her soldier-sailor boy.

During all this summer Sunna was busy and regular. She was at the Ragnors' every day until the noon hour. Then she ate dinner with her grandfather, who was as eager to discuss the news and gossip Sunna had heard, as any old woman in Kirkwall. He said: "Pooh! Pooh!" and "Nonsense!" but he listened to it, and it often served his purpose better than words of weight and wisdom.

In the afternoons Mistress Brodie was to visit, and the winter in Edinburgh to talk over. Coming home in time to take tea with her grandfather, she devoted the first hour after the meal to practising her best songs, and these lullabyed the old man to a sleep which often lasted until "The Banded Men" were attended to. It might then be ten o'clock and she was ready to sleep.

All through these long summer days, Thora was the natural source of interest and the inciting element of all the work and chatter that turned the Ragnor house upside down and inside out; but Thora was naturally shy and quiet, and Sunna naturally expressive and presuming; and it was difficult for their companions to keep Thora and Sunna in their proper places. Every one found it difficult. Only when Ian was present, did Sunna take her proper secondary place and Ian, though the most faithful and attentive of lovers by mail, had only been able to pay Thora one personal visit. This visit had occurred at the end of June and he was expected again at the end of September. The year was now approaching that time and the Ragnor household was in a state of happy expectation.

It was an unusual condition and Sunna said irritably: "They go on about this stranger as if he were the son of Jupiter--and poor Boris!

They never mention him, though there has been a big battle and Boris may have been in it. If Boris were killed, it is easy to see that this Ian Macrae would step into his place!"

"Nothing of that kind could happen! In thy own heart keep such foolish thoughts," replied Vedder.

So the last days of September were restless and not very happy, for there was a great storm prevailing, and the winds roared and the rain fell in torrents and the sea looked as if it had gone mad. Before the storm there was a report of a big battle, but no details of it had reached them. For the Pentland Firth had been in its worst equinoctial temper and the proviso added to all Orkney sailing notices, "weather permitting," had been in full force for nearly a week.

But at length the storm was over and everyone was on the lookout for the delayed shipping. Thora was pale with intense excitement but all things were in beautiful readiness for the expected guest. And Ian did not disappoint the happy hopes which called him. He was on the first ship that arrived and it was Conall Ragnor's hand he clasped as his feet touched the dry land.

Such a home-coming as awaited him--the cheerful room, the bountifully spread table, the warm welcome, the beauty and love, mingling with that sense of peace and rest and warm affection which completely satisfies the heart. Would such a blissful hour ever come again to him in this life?

His pockets were full of newspapers, and they were all shouting over the glorious opening of the war. The battle of Alma had been fought and won; and the troops were ready and waiting for Inkerman. England's usual calm placidity had vanished in exultant rejoicing. "An English gentleman told me," said Ian, "that you could not escape the chimes of joyful bells in any part of the ringing island.'"

Vedder had just entered the room and he stood still to listen to these words. Then he said: "Men differ. For the first victory let all the bells of England ring if they want to. We Nors.e.m.e.n like to keep our bell-ringing until the fight is over and they can chime _Peace_. And how do you suppose, Ian Macrae, that the English and French will like to fight together?"

"Well enough, sir, no doubt. Why not?"

"Of Waterloo I was thinking. Have the French forgotten it? Ian, it is the very first time in all the history we have, that Frenchmen ever fought with Englishmen in a common cause. Natural enemies they have been for centuries, fighting each other with a very good will whenever they got a chance. Have they suddenly become friends? Have they forgot Waterloo?" and he shook his wise old head doubtfully.