[St. Ronan’s Well by Sir Walter Scott]@TWC D-Link book
St. Ronan’s Well

CHAPTER XVIII
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His attendants felt the same apprehension.

"Puir thing--puir thing!--O, God send she may not have been left to hersell!--God send she may have been upholden!" were whispered by Patrick to the maidens, and by them to each other.
At this moment the old gardener was heard behind them, shouting, "Master--St.Ronan's--Master--I have fund--I have fund"---- "Have you found my sister ?" exclaimed the brother, with breathless anxiety.
The old man did not answer till he came up, and then, with his usual slowness of delivery, he replied to his master's repeated enquiries, "Na, I haena fund Miss Clara, but I hae fund something ye wad be wae to lose--your braw hunting-knife." He put the implement into the hand of its owner, who, recollecting the circumstances under which he had flung it from him last night, and the now too probable consequences of that interview, bestowed on it a deep imprecation, and again hurled it from him into the brook.

The domestics looked at each other, and recollecting each at the same time that the knife was a favourite tool of their master, who was rather curious in such articles, had little doubt that his mind was affected, in a temporary way at least, by his anxiety on his sister's account.

He saw their confused and inquisitive looks, and assuming as much composure and presence of mind as he could command, directed Martha, and her female companions, to return and search the walks on the other side of Shaws-Castle; and, finally, ordered Patrick back to ring the bell, "which," he said, assuming a confidence that he was far from entertaining, "might call Miss Mowbray home from some of her long walks." He farther desired his groom and horses might meet him at the Clattering Brig, so called from a noisy cascade which was formed by the brook, above which was stretched a small foot-bridge of planks.

Having thus shaken off his attendants, he proceeded himself, with all the speed he was capable of exerting, to follow out the path in which he was at present engaged, which, being a favourite walk with his sister, she might perhaps have adopted from mere habit, when in a state of mind, which, he had too much reason to fear, must have put choice out of the question.
He soon reached the summer-house, which was merely a seat covered overhead and on the sides, open in front, and neatly paved with pebbles.
This little bower was perched, like a hawk's nest, almost upon the edge of a projecting crag, the highest point of the line of rock which we have noticed; and had been selected by poor Clara, on account of the prospect which it commanded down the valley.


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