The Lost Lady of Lone.

by E.D.E.N. Southworth.

CHAPTER I.

THE BRIDE OF LONE.

"Eh, Meester McRath? Sae grand doings I hae na seen sin the day o' the queen's visit to Lone. That wad be in the auld duke's time. And a waefu'

day it wa'."

"Dinna ye gae back to that day, Girzie Ross. It gars my blood boil only to think o' it!"

"Na, Sandy, mon, sure the ill that was dune that day is weel compensate on this. Sooth, if only marriages be made in heaven, as they say, sure this is one. The laird will get his ain again, and the bonnyest leddy in a' the land to boot."

"She _is_ a bonny la.s.s, but na too gude for him, although her fair hand does gie him back his lands."

"It's only a' just as it sud be."

"Na, it's no all as it sud be. Look at they fules trying to pit up yon triumphal arch! The loons hae actually gotten the motto 'HAPPINESS' set upside down, sae that a' the blooming red roses are falling out o' it. An ill omen that if onything be an ill omen. I maun rin and set it right."

The speakers in this short colloquy were Mrs. Girzie Ross, housekeeper, and Mr. Alexander McRath, house-steward of Castle Lone.

The locality was in the Highlands of Scotland. The season was early summer. The hour was near sunset. The scene was one of great beauty and sublimity. The occasion one of high festivity and rejoicing.

The preparations were being completed for a grand event. For on the morning of the next day a deep wrong was to be made right by the marriage of the young and beautiful Lady of Lone to the chosen lord of her heart.

Lone Castle was a home of almost ideal grandeur and loveliness, situated in one of the wildest and most picturesque regions of the Highlands, yet brought to the utmost perfection of fertility by skillful cultivation.

The castle was originally the stronghold of a race of powerful and warlike Scottish chieftains, ancestors of the ill.u.s.trious ducal line of Scott-Hereward. It was strongly built, on a rocky island, that arose from The midst of a deep clear lake, surrounded by lofty mountains.

For generations past, the castle had been but a picturesque ruin, and the island a barren desert, tenanted only by some old retainer of the ancient family, who found shelter within its huge walls, and picked up a scanty living by showing the famous ruins to artists and tourists.

But some years previous to the commencement of our story, when Archibald-Alexander-John Scott succeeded his father, as seventh Duke of Hereward, he conceived the magnificent, but most extravagant idea of transforming that grim, old Highland fortress, perched upon its rocky island, surrounded by water and walled in by mountains--into a mansion of Paradise and a garden of Eden.

When he first spoke of his plan, he was called visionary and extravagant; and when he persisted in carrying it into execution, he was called mad.

The most skillful engineers and architects in Europe were consulted and their plans examined, and a selection of designs and contractors made from the best among them. And then the restoration, or rather the transfiguration, of the place was the labor of many years, at the cost of much money.

Fabulous sums were lavished upon Lone. But the Duke's enthusiasm grew as the work grew and the cost increased. All his unentailed estates in England were first heavily mortgaged and afterwards sold, and the proceeds swallowed up in the creation of Lone.

The d.u.c.h.ess, inspired by her husband, was as enthusiastic as the duke.

When his resources were at an end and Lone unfinished she gave up her marriage settlements, including her dower house, which was sold that the proceeds might go to the completion of Lone.

But all this did not suffice to pay the stupendous cost.

Then the duke did the maddest act of his life. He raised the needed money from usurers by giving them a mortgage on his own life estate in Lone itself.

The work drew near to its completion.

In the meantime the duke's agents were ransacking the chief cities in Europe in search of rare paintings, statues, vases, and other works of art or articles of virtu to decorate the halls and chambers of Lone; for which also the most famous manufacturers in France and Germany were elaborating suitable designs in upholstery.

Every man directing every department of the works at Lone, whether as engineer, architect, decorator, or furnisher, every man was an artist in his own speciality. The work within and without was to be a perfect work at whatever cost of time, money, and labor.

At length, at the end of ten years from its commencement, the work was completed.

And for the sublimity of its scenery, the beauty of its grounds, the almost tropical luxuriance of its gardens, the magnificence of its buildings, the splendor of its decorations, and the luxury of its appointments, Lone was unequalled.

What if the mad duke had nearly ruined himself in raising it?

Lone was henceforth the pride of engineers, the model of architects, the subject of artists, the theme of poets, the Mecca of pilgrims, the eighth wonder of the world.

Lone was opened for the first time a few weeks after its completion, on the occasion of the coming of age of the duke's eldest son and heir, the young Marquis of Arondelle, which fell upon the first of June.

A grand festival was held at Lone, and a great crowd a.s.sembled to do honor to the anniversary. A n.o.ble and gentle company filled the halls and chambers of the castle, and nearly all the Clan Scott a.s.sembled on the grounds.

The festival was a grand triumph.

Among the thousands present were certain artists and reporters of the press, and so it followed that the next issue of the _London News_ contained full-page pictures of Castle Lone and Inch Lone, with their terraces, parterres, arches, arbors and groves; Loch Lone, with its elegant piers, bridges and boats; and the surrounding mountains, with their caves, grottoes, falls and fountains.

Yes, the birthday festival was a perfect triumph, and the fame of Lone went forth to the uttermost ends of the earth. The English Colonists at Australia, Cape of Good Hope, and New Zealand, read all about it in copies of the _London News_, sent out to them by thoughtful London friends. We remember the day, some years since, when we, sitting by our cottage fire, read all about it in an ill.u.s.trated paper, and pondered over the happy fate of those who could live in paradise while still on earth. Five years later, we would not have changed places with the Duke of Hereward.

But this is a digression.

The duke was in his earthly heaven; but was the duke happy, or even content?

Ah! no. He was overwhelmed with debt. Even Lone was mortgaged as deeply as it could be--that is, as to the extent of the duke's own life interests in the estate. Beyond that he could not burden the estate, which was entailed upon his heirs male. Besides his financial embarra.s.sments, the duke was afflicted with another evil--he was consumed with a fever too common with prince and with peasant, as well as with peer--the fever of a land hunger.

The prince desires to add province to province; the peer to add manor to manor; the peasant to own a little home of his own, and then to add acre to acre.

The Lord of Lone glorying in his earthly paradise, wished to see it enlarged, wished to add one estate to another until he should become the largest land-owner in Scotland, or have his land-hunger appeased.

He bought up all the land adjoining Lone, that could be purchased at any price, paying a little cash down, and giving notes for the balance on each purchase. Thus, in the course of three years, Lone was nearly doubled in territorial extent.

But the older creditors became clamorous. Bond, and mortgage holders threatened foreclosure, and the financial affairs of the "mad duke,"

outwardly and apparently so prosperous, were really very desperate. The family were seriously in danger of expulsion from Lone.

It was at this crisis that the devoted son came to the help of his father--not wisely, as many people thought then--not fortunately, as it turned out. To prevent his father from being compelled to leave Lone, and to protect him from the persecution of creditors, the young Marquis of Arondelle performed an act of self-sacrifice and filial devotion seldom equalled in the world's history. He renounced all his own entailed rights, and sold all his prospective life interest in Lone. His was a young, strong life, good for fifty or sixty years longer. His interest brought a sum large enough to pay off the mortgage on Lone and to settle all others of his father's outstanding debts.

Thus peaceable possession of Lone might have been secured to the family during the natural life of the duke. At the demise of the duke, instead of descending to his son and heir, it would pa.s.s into the possession of other parties, with whom it would remain as long the heir should live.

Thus, I say, by the sacrifice of the son the peace of the father might have been secured--for a time. And all might have gone well at Lone but for one unlucky event which finally set the seal on the ruin of the ducal family.

And yet that event was intended as an honor, and considered as an honor.

In a word the Queen, the Prince Consort, and the royal family, were coming to the Highlands. And the Duke of Hereward received an intimation that her majesty would stop on her royal progress and honor Lone with a visit of two days. This was a distinction in no wise to be slighted by any subject under any circ.u.mstances, and certainly not by the duke of Hereward.

The Queen's visit would form the crowning glory of Lone. The chambers occupied by majesty would henceforth be holy ground, and would be pointed out with reverence to the stranger in all succeeding generations.