"I can't imagine what brings her here. She has come over from Peterheadtwo or three times lately; but she doesn't seem to have anything atall to do. She has nothing to sell and she buys nothing. She's not atripper, and she's not a beggar, and she's not a thief, and she's nota worker of any sort. She's a queer-looking lot anyhow. I fancy fromher speech that she's from the west; probably from some of the far-outislands. I can tell that she has the Gaelic from the way she speaks."
Later on in the day, when I was walking on the shore near the Hawklaw,she came up to speak to me. The shore was quite lonely, for in thosedays it was rare to see anyone on the beach except when the salmonfishers drew their nets at the ebbing tide. I was walking towardsWhinnyfold when she came upon me silently from behind. She must havebeen hidden among the bent-grass of the sandhills for had she beenanywhere in view I must have seen her on that desolate shore. She wasevidently a most imperious person; she at once addressed me in a toneand manner which made me feel as though I were in some way an inferior,and in somehow to blame:
"What for did ye no tell me what ye saw yesterday?" Instinctively Ianswered:
"I don't know why. Perhaps because it seemed so ridiculous." Her sternfeatures hardened into scorn as she replied:
"Are Death and the Doom then so redeekulous that they pleasure ye intilsilence?" I somehow felt that this was a little too much and was aboutto make a sharp answer, when suddenly it struck me as a remarkable thingthat she knew already. Filled with surprise I straightway asked her:
"Why, how on earth do you know? I told no one." I stopped for I felt allat sea; there was some mystery here which I could not fathom. She seemedto read my mind like an open book, for she went on looking at me as shespoke, searchingly and with an odd smile.
"Eh! laddie, do ye no ken that ye hae een that can see? Do ye nounderstand that ye hae een that can speak? Is it that one with the Gifto' Second Sight has no an understandin' o' it. Why, yer face when ye sawthe mark o' the Doom, was like a printed book to een like mine."
"Do you mean to tell me" I asked "that you could tell what I saw, simplyby looking at my face?"
"Na! na! laddie. Not all that, though a Seer am I; but I knew that youhad seen the Doom! It's no that varied that there need be any mistake.After all Death is only one, in whatever way we may speak!" After apause of thought I asked her:
"If you have the power of Second Sight why did you not see the vision,or whatever it was, yourself?"
"Eh! laddie" she answered, shaking her head "'Tis little ye ken o'the wark o' the Fates! Learn ye then that the Voice speaks only as itlisteth into chosen ears, and the Vision comes only to chosen een. Nonecan will to hear or to see, to pleasure themselves."
"Then" I said, and I felt that there was a measure of triumph in my tone"if to none but the chosen is given to know, how comes it that you, whoseem not to have been chosen on this occasion at all events, know allthe same?" She answered with a touch of impatience:
"Do ye ken, young sir, that even mortal een have power to see much, ifthere be behind them the thocht, an' the knowledge and the experienceto guide them aright. How, think ye, is it that some can see much, andlearn much as they gang; while others go blind as the mowdiwart, at theend o' the journey as before it?"
"Then perhaps you will tell me how much you saw, and how you saw it?"
"Ah! to them that have seen the Doom there needs but sma' guidance totheir thochts. Too lang, an' too often hae I mysen seen the death-sarkan' the watch-candle an' the dead-hole, not to know when they are seentae ither een. Na, na! laddie, what I kent o' yer seein' was no by theGift but only by the use o' my proper een. I kent not the muckle o' whatye saw. Not whether it was ane or ither o' the garnishins o' the dead;but weel I kent that it was o' death."
"Then," I said interrogatively "Second Sight is altogether a matter ofchance?"
"Chance! chance!" she repeated with scorn. "Na! young sir; when theVoice has spoken there is no more chance than that the nicht will followthe day."
"You mistake me," I said, feeling somewhat superior now that I hadcaught her in an error, "I did not for a moment mean that theDoom--whatever it is--is not a true forerunner. What I meant was thatit seems to be a matter of chance in whose ear the Voice--whatever itis--speaks; when once it has been ordained that it is to sound in theear of some one." Again she answered with scorn:
"Na, na! there is no chance o' ocht aboot the Doom. Them that send forththe Voice and the Seein' know well to whom it is sent and why. Can ye nocomprehend that it is for no bairn-play that such goes forth. When theVoice speaks, it is mainly followed by tears an' woe an' lamentation!Nae! nor is it only one bit manifestation that stands by its lanes,remote and isolate from all ither. Truly 'tis but a pairt o' the greatscheme o' things; an' be sure that whoso is chosen to see or to hear ischosen weel, an' must hae their pairt in what is to be, on to the verraend."
"Am I to take it" I asked, "that Second Sight is but a little bit ofsome great purpose which has to be wrought out by means of many kinds;and that whoso sees the Vision or hears the Voice is but the blindunconscious instrument of Fate?"
"Aye! laddie. Weel eneuch the Fates know their wishes an' their wark, noto need the help or the thocht of any human--blind or seein', sane orsilly, conscious or unconscious."
All through her speaking I had been struck by the old woman's use of theword 'Fate,' and more especially when she used it in the plural. It wasevident that, Christian though she might be--and in the West they aregenerally devout observants of the duties of their creed--her belief inthis respect came from some of the old pagan mythologies. I should haveliked to question her on this point; but I feared to shut her lipsagainst me. Instead I asked her:
"Tell me, will you, if you don't mind, of some case you have knownyourself of Second Sight?"
"'Tis no for them to brag or boast to whom has been given to see thewark o' the hand o' Fate. But sine ye are yerself a Seer an' wouldlearn, then I may speak. I hae seen the sea ruffle wi'oot cause in theverra spot where later a boat was to gang doon, I hae heard on a lonemoor the hammerin' o' the coffin-wright when one passed me who was soonto dee. I hae seen the death-sark fold round the speerit o' a drownedone, in baith ma sleepin' an' ma wakin' dreams. I hae heard the settin'doom o' the Spaiks, an' I hae seen the Weepers on a' the crood thatwalked. Aye, an' in mony anither way hae I seen an' heard the Coming o'the Doom."
"But did all the seeings and hearings come true?" I asked. "Did it everhappen that you heard queer sounds or saw strange sights and that yetnothing came of them? I gather that you do not always know to whomsomething is going to happen; but only that death is coming to someone!" She was not displeased at my questioning but replied at once:
"Na doot! but there are times when what is seen or heard has no manifestfollowing. But think ye, young sir, how mony a corp, still waited for,lies in the depths o' the sea; how mony lie oot on the hillsides, or arefallen in deep places where their bones whiten unkent. Nay! more, to howmany has Death come in a way that men think the wark o' nature when hishastening has come frae the hand of man, untold." This was a difficultmatter to answer so I changed or rather varied the subject.
"How long must elapse before the warning comes true?"
"Ye know yersel', for but yestreen ye hae seen, how the Death can followhard upon the Doom; but there be times, nay mostly are they so, whendays or weeks pass away ere the Doom is fulfilled."
"Is this so?" I asked "when you know the pers
on regarding whom the Doomis spoken." She answered with an air of certainty which somehow carriedconviction, secretly, with it.