280 THE JOURNEYMAN. 



Things had reached this rather critical posture when 

 Mrs Eraser, alarmed at the notion that her daughter 

 might bestow her heart and hand on a mechanic, com- 

 manded that the intimacy should be broken off. The 

 young lady was disconsolate ; wept much ; felt ' like a 

 poor little parasite which had succeeded in laying hold 

 of some strong and stately tree, and which a powerful 

 blast had laid prostrate in the dust.' Under these cir- 

 cumstances the following entry from the same hand will 

 not seem surprising. 



' It was late on the evening of a very hot summer 

 Sabbath during the time of interdict, that, feeling list- 

 less and weary, I crept out a little to breathe the air. 

 I had no intention of walking did not even put on 

 bonnet or shawl. I stole down the grassy garden path 

 and listened to the murmur of the sea, whose waves 

 beat on the shore at a stone's throw beyond. But the 

 night was still sultry, and I imagined that by getting to 

 the top of some eminence, I might find the cooling 

 breeze for which I longed. So I found myself, I scarcely 

 knew how, at the ancient chapel of St Regulus. There 

 the trees which line the sides of the ravine by which it 

 is surrounded waved the tops of their branches, the blue 

 sea looked forth between, and as the twilight gave place 

 to night, the stars began to twinkle forth. I stood on 

 the edge of the hill enjoying the slight breeze and the 

 soft brightness of earth and sky, when suddenly I per- 

 ceived that Hugh stood beside me. He spoke of the 

 sweetness of the evening, the beauty of the landscape, 

 and so on ; but his speech was cold and reserved, and 

 he made no allusion to our peculiar position. Possibly 

 his pride was touched by it. At that very time, how- 

 ever, as he afterwards told me, he cut a notch in the 

 wood of a beam which crossed the roof of his cottage for 



