e
sort of people to be trusted in calamity. And Helen's other brothers
were out and away in the world, scattered all over Scotland, earning,
diligently and hardly, their daily bread.

There was evidently not a soul to go to her help except himself. Her
brief and formal letter, breaking down into that piteous cry of "help
me," seemed to come out of the very depths of despair. It pierced to
the core of Lord Cairnforth's heart; and yet--and yet--he felt
that strange sense of exultation and delight.

Even Malcolm noticed this.

"Your lordship has gotten gude news," said he. "Is it about Miss Helen?
She's coming home?"

"Yes. We must start for Edinburg at once, and we'll bring her back with
us." He forgot for the moment the sick husband, the newborn baby--
every thing but Helen herself and her being close at hand. "It's only
forty-eight hours journey to Edinburg now. We will travel post; I am
strong enough, Malcolm; set about it quickly, for it must be done."

Malcolm knew his master too well to remonstrate. In truth, the whole
household was so bewildered by this sudden exploit--for the wheels of
life moved slowly enough ordinarily at Cairnforth--that before any
body was quite aware what had happened, the earl and his two necessary
attendants, Malcolm and Mr. Mearns--also Mrs. Campbell--Helen
might want a woman with her--were traveling across country as fast as
the only fast traveling of that era--relays of post-horses day and
night--could carry them.

Lord Cairnforth, after much thought, left Helen's letter behind with
Duncan Cardross, charging him to break the tidings gradually to the
minister, and tell him that he himself was then traveling to Edinburg
with all the speed that, in those days, money, and money alone, could
procure. Oh, how he felt the blessing of riches! Now, whatever her
circumstances were, or might have been once, misery, poverty, could
never afflict Helen more. He was quite determined that from the time he
brought them home, his cousin and his cousin's wife should inhabit
Cairnforth Castle; that, whether Captain Bruce's life proved to be long
or short, worthy or unworthy, he should be borne with, and forgiven
every thing--for Helen's sake.

All the journey--sleeping or waking, day or night--Lord Cairnforth
arranged or dreamed over his plans, until at ten o'clock the second
night he found himself driving along the familiar Princes Street, with
the grim Castle rock standing dark agains