Sheila.

a verandah and a flower-garden in front. "Then I must ask my husband," said He saw there a young lady watering the tree-fuchsias a handsome, healthilycomplexioned young woman, with dark hair, and deep-blue eyes, who was the daughter of Mr. Mackenzie. She was rather well liked by the islanders, who generally called her "Miss Sheila," notwithstanding that she was married; although some of them had got into a shy, half-comical, half-tender fashion of calling her "Princess Sheila," merely because her husband had a yacht so named. "And are you ferry well?" said she, running forward, with a bright smile on her face, to the minister. "And hef you come all the way from Darroch, Mr. Mac-sound of some one on the gravel outside, Donald?"

She went to the open window, took a whistle from her pocket, and blew a note loud and shrill that seemed to go echoing far across Loch Roag, away amid the blue and misty solitudes of the great Suainabhal. She stood there for a minute or two. Far below her there was a schooner yacht resting quietly in the bay; she could see a small boat put off, and land on the shore a man and a very tiny boy. The man was clad in rough blue homespun; he set the child of three or so on his shoulder, and then proceeded to climb the hill. In a few minutes there was the

and presently a tall young man, somewhat heavily bearded, marched into the drawing-room, and threw the child into its mother's outstretched arms.

"Ay, ay," said the minister, a little embarrassed, and looking down, "I hef come from Darrock; and it iss a proud tay this tay that I will shake hands with "Mr. MacDonald of Darroch ?" he you, Miss Mrs. Laffenter; and it iss cried. "Why, of course! And haven't ferry glad I am that I will come to Borva, you got such a thing as a glass of whisalthough your father is not here, for it isskey in the house, Sheila, when a visitor not effery time in the year that a stranger will see you, Mrs. Laffenter."

"Oh, but you are no stranger, Mr. MacDonald," said this Mrs. Lavender. "Now come into the house, and I will ask you to stay and have some dinner with us, Mr. MacDonald, for you cannot leave for Darroch again to-night. And what did you want to see my father about, Mr. MacDonald?"

comes all the way from Darroch to see you? And what's the best of your news, Mr. MacDonald?"

Sheila -or Mrs. Lavender, as ought to call her having deposited the very young gentleman on the sofa, and given him a mighty piece of cake to console him for maternal neglect, proceeded to tell her husband of the causes of Mr. MacDonald's visit. His decision on the point was quickly taken.

"You'll get yourself into trouble, Mr. Mac Donald, if you help them to a clandestine marriage. I wouldn't touch it, if I were you."

He followed her into the house, and sat down in a spacious sitting-room, the like of which, in its wonderful colours and decorations, he had never seen before. He could compare it only with Stornoway Castle, or his dreams of the "Yes, I am afraid you will get yourself palace in which the queen lived in Lon-into trouble," said Sheila, with an air of don.

wisdom.

"But, Kott pless me !" said the minister, indignantly, "hef I not told you they will run away to Glassgow ?-and iss there anything ass bad ass that that a young lad and a young lass will go away to Glassgow, and not one of them married until they get there?"

"Well, there's something in that," said Mr. Lavender. "What sort of fellow is this Angus M'Eachran ?"

"Oh, he is a ferry tiligent young man

he hass a share in the poat, and he hass some money in the pank, and there iss none more cleffer than he is at the fishing. Ay, ay, he is a cleffer young man, and a good-looking young man ; but if he wass not so free with his laugh, and his joke, and his glass-well, I will say

nothing against the young man, who is a ferry respectable young man whateffer, and there iss no reason why John Fergus should shut the door against him."

"Then can't the father be talked over?" said Mr. Lavender, pretending to snatch at the cake which his son was busily eating.

"Oh, couldn't I say something to him!" Sheila said, with entreaty in her

proudly, "and he will speak no rough speech to me."

"Not if I can understand him, and there is a door handy," said her husband, with a laugh.

"Ay, ay, you will come to the wedding?" said the minister, almost to himself, as if this assurance were almost too much for mortal man to bear. He had made a long and disagreeable voyage eyes. from the one island to the other, in order "You, Miss Mrs. Laffenter!" said to seek the advice of a capable man; the minister, with surprise. "You, to but he had not expected such high go into John Fergus's house! Yes, in- and honourable sanction of his secret deed, it would be a proud day the day for aims. Now, indeed, he had no more him that you went into his house-ay, if hesitation. Mr. Mackenzie was a wise he wass fifteen or a dozen John Ferguses. man, and a travelled man, no doubt; but But you hef no imagination of that man's not even his counsel could have satisfied temper and the sweerin of him! "the old minister as did the prompt and "Oh, I should stop that," said Mr. somewhat reckless tender of aid on the Lavender. "If you like to go and talk part of Mr. Lavender, and the frank and to him, Sheila, I will undertake that he hearty sympathy of the beautiful "Prinsha'n't swear much!" cess Sheila."

"How could you know?" the girl said, with a laugh. "He would swear in the Gaelic. But if there is no other means, Mr. MacDonald, I am sure anything is better than letting them run away to Glasgow."

"Sheila," said the husband, “when do we go to London ?"

"In about a week now we shall be ready, I think," she said.

"Well, look here. You seem interested in that girl I don't remember her having been here at all. However, suppose we put off our going to London, and see these young folks through their troubles ?"

Of course he saw by her face that that was what she wanted: he had no sooner suggested such a thing than the happiest light possible sprang to her eyes.

Oh, will you?" she cried. "And in for a penny, in for a pound," said he. "I suppose you want witnesses, Mr. MacDonald? What if my wife and myself went round in the yacht to Darroch, and helped you at your private wedding?"

"Hey!" said Mr. MacDonald, with his eyes staring. "You, sir, come to the wedding of Moira Fergus? And Miss Sheila, too? Why, there iss no man in all the islands would not gif away his daughter-ay, twenty daughters-if he wass told you will be coming to the wed ding-not any man but John Fergus; and there is the anger of the teffle himself in the nature of John Fergus; and it iss no man will go near him."

"But I will go near him!" said Sheila,

CHAPTER III.

A MEETING OF LOVERS.

A STILL, calm night lay over the scattered islands; there was no sound abroad but the occasional calling of the wildfowl; in the perfect silence there was scarcely even a murmur from the smooth sea. Night as it was, the world was all lit up with a wonderful white glory; for the moon down there in the south was almost full; and here the clear radiance fell on the dark moorland flats, on the bays of white sand fronting the sea, and on the promontories of black rock that jutted out into the shining water. Killeena lay cold and silent under the wan glare; Darroch showed no signs of life; the far mountains of the larger islands seemed visionary and strange. It was a night of wonderful beauty, but that the unusual silence of the sea had something awful in it; one had a sense that the mighty plain of water was perhaps steathily rising to cover forever those bits of rock which, during a few brief centuries, had afforded foothold to a handful of human beings.

Down in one of the numerous creeks a young man was idly walking this way and that along the smooth sand- occasionally looking up to the rocks above him. This was Angus M'Eachran, the lover of Moira Fergus. There was obviously nothing Celtic about the young man's outward appearance: he was clearly of the race descended from the 'early Norwegian settlers in these islands

"And it iss a foolish lass you are!" he said, impetuously, "and now he will come ofer to Ardtilleach

"He will not think of coming ofer to Ardtilleach; it iss a ferry kind man that Mr. MacDonald is; and be will say to me,' Moira, will it not be petter, and a great deal petter, that I will marry Angus M'Eachran and you in Darroch, and no one will know until it iss over, and then you can go and tell your father?'" "Ay, did he say that?" exclaimed the young man, with his eyes wide. "Indeed he did."

-a race that, in some parts, has, not- MacDonald, and I wass saying to him withstanding intermarriage, preserved that there wass no more use in trying to very distinct characteristics. He was a speak to my father, and that you and me, tall young fellow, broad-chested, yellow- Angus, we were thinking of going away bearded, good-looking enough, and grave to Glassgow and deliberate of speech. Moreover, he was a hard-working, energetic, shrewdheaded youth; there was no better fisherman round these coasts; he had earned his share in the boat, so that he was not at the mercy of any of the curers; he had talked of building a small stone cottage for himself; and it was said that he had a little money in the bank at Stornoway. But if Angus M'Eachran was outwardly a Norseman, he had many of the characteristics of the Celtic temperament. He was quick to imagine and resent affront. His seeming gravity of demeanour would, under provocation of circumstances, disappear altogether; and there was no one madder than he in the enjoyment of a frolic, no one more generous in a fit of enthusiasm, no one more reckless in the prosecution of a quarrel. They said he sometimes took a glass too much on shore-led away by the delight of good-fellowship; but the bitterest cold night, the most persistent rain, the most exhausting work, could not tempt him to touch a drop of whiskey when he was out at the fishing.

"Ay, ay, and it iss a ferry good man he iss whateffer," said Angus, with a sudden change of mood. "And you, Moira, what wass it you will say to him?" "Me ?"

"Ay, you."

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'Well," said the girl, looking down, but with some pride in her tone; "it iss not for a young lass to say yes or to say no about such a thing-it iss for you, Angus, to go to the minister. But this is what I hef said to him, that the going to Glassgow wass a great trouble to me ay, and a ferry great trouble

"Then I will go and see Mr. MacDonald!" said Angus, hastily. "And this iss what I will say to him that he is a ferry good man, and that before three weeks iss over, ay, or two weeks, or four weeks, I will send to him a gallon of whiskey the like of which he will not find from the Butt of Lewis down to Barra Head. Ay, Moira, and so you went all the way across the island yesterday? It iss a good lass you are; and you will be ferry much petter when you are married and in your own house, and away from your father, that hass no petter words for his own children ass if they wass swines. And it iss ferry early the morn's mornin' that I will go over to Mr. Mac Donald

M'Lachlan; and you will say nothing' Angus M'Eachran, had in the bank at about all that I hef told you, only you Stornoway. will go ofer to Mr. MacDonald, Angus, on Saturday or Friday, and you will speak to him. And I will say good-night to you, Angus."

"I will go with you, Moira, along a bit of the road."

"No, Angus," the girl said, anxiously; "if there wass any one will see us and will take the story to my father

She had no need to complete the sentence. Her companion laughed lightly and courageously as he took her hand.

"Ay, ay, Moira, it iss not always that you will hef to be afrait. And the story they will hef to take to your father, that will be a ferry goot story, that will be the ferry best story he will ever hear. Oh yes, he will say three words or two words to efferypody around him when he hears that teffle of a story."

It was with great joy, therefore, that he heard of this proposal. It seemed so much more fitting and proper for a man and a woman to get married in their own island. There would be no stain on the fair name of Moira Fergus, if she was married by Mr. Mac Donald himself; whereas no one knew anything about the character of the Glasgow clergymen, who might, for all one knew, be secretly Roman Catholics. And then there was the remote chance that the wedding would have the august approval of the farknown Mr. Mackenzie, the king of Borva; which would silence the most censorious old hag who ever croaked over a peatfire.

Angus M'Eachran reached the long and straggling line of hovels and cottages known as the fishing-hamlet of If Angus was inclined to make light of Ardtilleach. Down there, on the white the old man's probable rage, his sweet-shores of the small creek, several of the heart was not. The mere mention of it seemed to increase her desire to depart; and so he kissed her, and she went on her way home.

Perhaps he would have grumbled at the shortness of the interview but that this new project had almost taken his breath away, and now wholly occupied his mind. He clambered up the rocks, got across to the road, and slowly walked along in the clear moonlight, in the direction of the cottages of Ardtilleach. To have a lover's meeting cut short on such a night would have been grevious under other circumstances; but that was forgotten in the suggestion that his marriage of Moira Fergus had now become possible and near.

Angus M'Eachran had never been to Glasgow, and he had the vague fear of the place which dwells in the minds of many islanders. The project of flight thither was a last and desperate resource after all hope of conciliating John Fergus was abandoned. But the young man had never felt so confident about it as he pretended to be in speaking to Moira Fergus.

boats were drawn up, their hulls black in the moonlight. Up on the rocks above were built the two long and substantial curing-houses, with plenty of empty barrels lying round the doors. There was scarcely any one about, though here and there the smoke from a chimney showed that the peats were being stirred within to light up the gloomy interior of the hut. He passed the rude little cottage in which John Fergus and his family lived.

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Ay, ay, Moira," he was thinking to himself, "you will have a better house to live in by-and-by, and you will have better treatment in the house, and you will be the mistress of the house. And there will no one then say a hard word to you, whether he is your father or whether he is not your father; and I will make it a bad day for any one that says a hard word to you, Moira Fergus."

From Blackwood's Magazine. THE ABODE OF SNOW.

ANDRY.

He knew nothing of how the people HANGRANG, SPITI, AND TIBETAN POLYlived in Glasgow; of the possibility of two strangers getting married; of the cost of the long journey. Then he might have to leave his fishing for an indefinite period, and embarrass his comrades in the boat; he had a suspicion, too, that old John Fergus, having been robbed of his daughter, would appeal to the sheriff, and impound the money which he,

ON turning north-westward from Chinese Tibet I set myself to the task of traversing the whole line of the Western Himáliya, from Lío Porgyúl to Kashmir and the Hindú Kúsh, in the interior of its ranges, at a height usually about twelve thousand feet, and through the

-

provinces of Hangrang, Spiti, Lahaul, his feet on the lower rope, except where Zanskar, Súrú, and Dras. About half of it is supported from the upper ropes by this line of journey is not to be found in the transverse ones. To fall into the Montgomerie's Routes, and it involves raging torrent underneath would be almore than one passage of several days most certain destruction. The high wind over high and difficult ground, where which usually prevails in the Himáliya there are no villages, no houses, and during the day, makes the whole strucscarcely even any wood. Nevertheless, ture swing about frightfully. In the it commends itself as a summer and au- middle of the bridge there is a cross-bar tumn journey to the traveller, from its of wood (to keep the two upper ropes great elevation, which keeps him above separate) which has to be stepped over; the tremendous heat of the gorges- and it is not customary to repair a jhúla from its singularly pure and bracing air until some one falls through it, and so from the protection which more than gives practical demonstration that it is one snowy range affords against the In-in rather a rotten state. One of these dian monsoon from the awful sublim- bridges at Kokser on the Chandra ity of the scenery and from the exceed- River, but now superseded by a wooden ingly primitive and essentially Turanian bridge may have accelerated the death and Lamaistic character of the people of Lord Elgin on his way up to Dharamamong whom he has to sojourn. sala. When crossing over it his coat was It is possible to hit upon this line of caught on the birch twigs; and his progjourney without essaying the arduous ress being thus arrested, he was unable task of visiting Pú and Shipki, because to go over it with that continuous, but there is a path from Súngnam to Nako, not too rapid motion, which is the safest in Hangrang, by way of Lío and Hango, way of dealing with such a passage. To which, though it goes over the Hang- delay on a bridge of this kind, swinging grang Pass at an altitude of 14,530 in the wind, is trying to the strongest feet, is comparatively easy. But from nerves; and I know, on excellent authorNamgea Rizhing or Fields, I had to reach ity, that the position in which he was Nako by crossing the Sutlej and passing thus placed had probably some effect in over a shoulder of the great mountain aggravating the heart-disease from which Lío Porgyúl; so, on the 12th August, we this governor-general died not many made the steep ascent to the village of days afterwards. Namgea, and from there to a very un- This bridge below Namgea, which is pleasant jhúla which crosses the foam- over one hundred feet in length, is a paring torrent of the Sutlej. In this part of ticularly bad one, because there is so the Himáliya, and, indeed, on to Kash-little traffic over it that it is almost never mir, these bridges are constructed of repaired; and Mr. Pagell told me that twigs, chiefly from birch-trees or bushes, the Namgea people were at some loss to twisted together. Two thick ropes of know how I was to get across in my weak these twigs, about the size of a man's and disabled state. A discussion arose thigh, or a little larger, are stretched amongst them as to whether the jhúla across the river, at a distance of about would bear the weight of one or two men six to four feet from each other, and a to assist me over it, on hearing of which similar rope runs between them, three or I could not help laughing quietly, befour feet lower, being connected with the cause, however unfit for prolonged musupper ropes by more slender ropes, also cular exertion, any short dangerous piece usually of birch twigs twisted together, of work was just what I liked. Accordbut sometimes of grass, and occurring at ingly, to the wonder and admiration of an interval of about five feet from each the mountaineers, who could not distinother. The unpleasantness of a jhúla is guish between incapacity for walking up that the passenger has no proper hold of six thousand feet and weakness of nerve, the upper ropes, which are too thick and I took the jhúla whenever I came to it, rough to be grasped by the hand; and without stopping to think of it, or lookthat, at the extremities, they are so far ing either to the right or the left until I apart that it is difficult to have any hold found myself safe on the rocks on the of both at the same time; while the dan-other side. Silas followed my example, ger is increased by the bend or hang of and, with his lithe Marátha frame, gat the jhúla, which is much lower in the over it in splendid style; but the heavy middle than at its ends. He has also to Chota Khan nearly stuck in the middle, stoop painfully in order to move along at the cross-bar, and reached terra firma it; and it is seldom safe for him to rest in a state of great agitation. Among the