Portent and Other Stories, The | Page 4

more like a distant echo than an original sound. It
seemed to come from the face of the mountain, where no horse, I knew,
could go at that speed, even if its rider courted certain destruction.
There was a peculiarity, too, in the sound--a certain tinkle, or clank,
which I fancied myself able, by auricular analysis, to distinguish from
the body of the sound. Supposing the sound to be caused by the feet of
a horse, the peculiarity was just such as would result from one of the
shoes being loose. A terror--strange even to my experience--seized me,
and I hastened home. The sounds gradually died away as I descended
the hill. Could they have been an echo from some precipice of the
mountain? I knew of no road lying so that, if a horse were galloping
upon it, the sounds would be reflected from the mountain to me.
The next day, in one of my rambles, I found myself near the cottage of
my old foster-mother, who was distantly related to us, and was a trusted
servant in the family at the time I was born. On the death of my mother,
which took place almost immediately after my birth, she had taken the
entire charge of me, and had brought me up, though with difficulty; for
she used to tell me, I should never be either folk or fairy. For some
years she had lived alone in a cottage, at the bottom of a deep green
circular hollow, upon which, in walking over a healthy table-land, one
came with a sudden surprise. I was her frequent visitor. She was a tall,
thin, aged woman, with eager eyes, and well-defined clear-cut features.

Her voice was harsh, but with an undertone of great tenderness. She
was scrupulously careful in her attire, which was rather above her
station. Altogether, she had much the bearing of a gentle-woman. Her
devotion to me was quite motherly. Never having had any family of her
own, although she had been the wife of one of my father's shepherds,
she expended the whole maternity of her nature upon me. She was
always my first resource in any perplexity, for I was sure of all the help
she could give me. And as she had much influence with my father, who
was rather severe in his notions, I had had occasion to beg her
interference. No necessity of this sort, however, had led to my visit on
the present occasion.
I ran down the side of the basin, and entered the little cottage. Nurse
was seated on a chair by the wall, with her usual knitting, a stocking, in
one hand; but her hands were motionless, and her eyes wide open and
fixed. I knew that the neighbours stood rather in awe of her, on the
ground that she had the second sight; but, although she often told us
frightful enough stories, she had never alluded to such a gift as being in
her possession. Now I concluded at once that she was seeing. I was
confirmed in this conclusion when, seeming to come to herself
suddenly, she covered her head with her plaid, and sobbed audibly, in
spite of her efforts to command herself. But I did not dare to ask her
any questions, nor did she attempt any excuse for her behaviour. After
a few moments, she unveiled herself, rose, and welcomed me with her
usual kindness; then got me some refreshment, and began to question
me about matters at home. After a pause, she said suddenly: "When are
you going to get your commission, Duncan, do you know?" I replied
that I had heard nothing of it; that I did not think my father had
influence or money enough to procure me one, and that I feared I
should have no such good chance of distinguishing myself. She did not
answer, but nodded her head three times, slowly and with compressed
lips--apparently as much as to say, "I know better."
Just as I was leaving her, it occurred to me to mention that I had heard
an odd sound the night before. She turned towards me, and looked at
me fixedly. "What was it like, Duncan, my dear?"

"Like a horse galloping with a loose shoe," I replied.
"Duncan, Duncan, my darling!" she said, in a low, trembling voice, but
with passionate earnestness, "you did not hear it? Tell me that you did
not hear it! You only want to frighten poor old nurse: some one has
been telling you the story!"
It was my turn to be frightened now; for the matter became at once
associated with my fears as to the possible nature of my auricular
peculiarities. I assured her that nothing was farther from my intention
than to frighten her; that, on the