Chapter XXXIX: The Last Roaring of the Bull

“Come,” she said, after a while, “let us go to my father!”

And now, the rubicon being passed, there shone a quick and alert gladness upon her face. Her feet scarcely seemed to touch the ground. The mood of sedateness had passed away, and she hummed a gay tune as we went down the stairs.

Alexander Gordon was coming across the yard to speak with his wife as Mary and I appeared hand in hand at the stair foot.

He stopped as it had been suddenly aghast when he caught sight of us.

“Mary!” he cried.

She nodded and made him a little prim curtesy.

“What means this?” he said, sternly.

“Just that Quintin and I love one another!”

And as she spoke I saw the frown gather ominously on Alexander Gordon’s face. His wife came near and looked at him. I saw him flash a glance at her so quick, so stern, and full of meaning that the ready river of her speech froze on her lips.

“This is rank foolishness, Mary!” he cried; “go indoors this instant and get to your broidering. Let me hear no more of this!”

But the spirit of the Gordons was in the daughter as well as in the sire.

“I will not,” she said; “I am of age, and though in all else I have obeyed you, in this I will not.”

Glance for glance their eyes encountered, nor could I see that either pair quailed.

The Laird of Earlstoun turned to me.

“And you, sir, whom I trusted as my friend, how came you here under pretext of amity, thus to lead away my daughter?”

The question was fiercely spoken, the tone sullenly angry. Yet somehow both rang hollow.

I was about to answer when Mary interrupted.

“Nay, father,” she cried, looking him fearlessly in the face; “it was I that proffered my love. He _would_ not ask me, though I tried to make him. I had to tell him that I loved him, and make him ask me to marry him!”

Was it fancy that the flicker of a smile passed at that moment over the grim countenance of the Bull?

His wife was again about to speak, but he turned fiercely on her and bade her be silent.

“And now,” he said, turning to his daughter, “what do you propose to do with your man when ye have ‘speered’ him?”

He used the local country expression for a proposal of marriage. “I will marry him here and now,” she said; adding hastily, “that is, if he will have me.”

“Ye had better speer him that too!” said her father, grimly.

“I will do better,” cried Mary Gordon. “I will acknowledge him!”

And holding up my hand in hers she cried aloud: “I take you for my husband, Quintin MacClellan!” She looked up at me with a challenge in her eye.

“_My wife!_” was all that I could utter.

“Well,” said Sandy, “that is your bed made, my lassie. You have both said it before witnesses. You must take him now, whether ye will or not!

“Hugh,” he cried, with a sudden roar towards the servants’ quarters. And from the haymow in the barn where he had been making a pretence of work a retainer appeared with a scared expression on his face.

“Run over to the cot-house at the road-end and tell the minister lad that the Dumfries Presbytery deposed to come to the Earlstoun and that smartly, else I will come down and fetch him myself!”

The man was already on his way ere the sentence was ended, and when the Laird roared the last words after him he fairly seemed to jump.

He was out of sight among the trees a moment after.

“Now,” said Alexander Gordon, “Mary and you have proclaimed yourselves man and wife. Ye shall be soundly married by a minister, and then ye shall go your ways forth. Think not that I will give you the worth of a boddle either in gear or land. Ye have asked me no permission. Ye have defied me. I say not that I will disown ye. But, at least, I owe you nothing.”

“Father,” said Mary, “did I ask you for aught, or did Quintin?”

“Nay,” said he, grimly, “not even for my daughter.”

“Then,” said she, “do not refuse that for which you have not been asked!”

“And how may you propose to live?” her father went on triumphantly. “Ye would not look at him when he had kirk and glebe, manse and stipend. And now ye take him by force when he is no better than a beggar at the dykeback. That it is to be a woman!”

She kindled at the words.

“And what a thing to be a man! Ye think that a woman’s love consists in goods and gear, comfortable beds and fine apparelling!”

“Comfortable beds are not to be lightlied,” said her father; “as ye will find, my lass, or a’ be done.”

She did not heed him, but flashed on with her defiance.

“You, and those like you, think that the way to win a woman is to bide till ye have made all smooth, so that there be not a curl on the rose-leaves, nor yet a bitter drop in the cup. Even Quintin there thought thus, till he learned better.”

She did not so much as pause to smile, though I think her father did--but covertly.

“No!” she cried, “I love, and because I love I will (as you say floutingly) be ready to lie at a dykeback like a tinkler’s wench. I will follow my man through the world because he is my man--yes, all the more because he is injured, despised, one who has had little happiness and no satisfaction in life. And now I will give him these things. I--I only will make it all up to him. With my love I can do it, and I will!”

Her father nodded menacingly.

“Ye shall try the dykebacks this very nicht, my lass! And ye shall e’en see how ye like them, after the fine linen sheets and panelled chambers of the Earlstoun.”

But her mother broke out at last.

“No, my bairn!” she cried. “Married or single ye shall not go forth from us thus!”

“Hold your tongue, woman!” roared the Bull, shaking the very firmament with his voice.

“Be not feared, my lass; ye shall have your mother’s countenance, though your father cast you off,” said Janet Gordon, nodding at us with unexpected graciousness.

“Hold your peace, I tell you!”

“Aye, Sandy, when I have done!”

“Though he turn you to the doorstep I will pray for you,” she went on; “and for company on the way I will give you a copy of my meditations, which are most meet and precious.”

Her husband laughed a quick, mocking laugh.

“A bundle of clean sarks wad fit them better--but here comes the minister.”

I turned about somewhat shamefacedly, and there, bowing to the Laird of Earlstoun, was young Gilchrist of Dunscore, whom the Presbytery of Dumfries had lately deposed. He was about to begin a speech of congratulation, but the Bull broke through.

“Marry these two!” he commanded.

And with his finger he pointed at Mary and myself, as if he had been ordering us for immediate execution.

“But----” began the minister.

Instantly an astonishing volume of sound filled the house.

“BUT me no _buts_! Tie them up this moment! Or, by the Lord, I will eviscerate you with my sword!”

And with that he snatched his great basket-hilted blade from the scabbard, where it swung on a pin by the side of the door.

So, with a quaking minister, my own head dazed and uncertain with the whirl of events, and Mary Gordon giving her father back defiant glance for glance, we were married decently and in order.

“Now,” said Alexander Gordon, so soon as the “Amen” was out, “go to your chamber with your mother, Mistress Mary! Take whatever ye can carry, but no more, and get you gone out of this house with the man you have chosen. I will teach you to be fond of dykebacks and of throwing yourself away upon beggarly, broken men!”

And he frowned down upon her, as with head erect and scornful carriage she swept past him--her mother trotting behind like a frightened child.

I think Alexander Gordon greatly desired to say something to me while he and I stood waiting for her return. For he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, now turning to the window, anon humming half a tune and breaking off short in the midst. But ever as he came towards me with obvious intent to speak, he checked himself, shaking his head sagely, and so resumed again his restless marching to and fro.

Presently my lass came down with a proud high look on her face, her mother following after, all beblubbered with tears and wringing her hands silently.

“I bid you farewell, father!” Mary said; “till now you have ever been a kind father to me. And some day you will forgive this seeming disobedience!”

Then it was that her father made a strange speech.

“Quintin MacClellan has muckle to thank me for. For had it not been for the roaring of the Bull, he had not so easily gotten away the dainty quey!”

So side by side, and presently when we got to the wood’s edge hand in hand, Mary Gordon and I went out into the world together.

* * * * *

_Final Addition and Conclusion by Hob MacClellan._

Thus my brother left the writing which has fallen into my hand. In a word I must finish what I cannot alter or amend.

His marriage with Mary Gordon was most happy and gracious, though I have ever heard that she retained throughout her life her high proud nature and hasty speech.

Her father relented his anger after the great renovation of the Covenants at Auchensaugh. Indeed, I question whether in driving them forth from Earlstoun, as hath been told, Alexander Gordon was not acting a part. For when he came to see my wife, Alexander-Jonita, after our little Quintin was born, he said, “Heard ye aught of your brother and his wife?”

I told him that they were well and hearty, full of honour, work, and the happiness of children.

“Aye,” said he, after a pause of reflection, “Quintin has indeed muckle to thank me for. I took the only way with our Mary, to make her ten times fonder o’ him than she was.”

And he chuckled a little deep laugh in his throat.

“But,” he said, “I wad gie a year’s rent to ken how she liked the dykeback the night she left the Earlstoun.”

THE END.

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published in modern fiction.”--_Buffalo Commercial._

_A STREET IN SUBURBIA._ By EDWIN PUGH.

“Thoroughly entertaining, and more: it shows traces of a creative genius something akin to Dickens.”--_Boston Traveler._

“Simplicity of style, strength, and delicacy of character study will mark this book as one of the most significant of the year.”--_New York Press._

_THE WISH._ By HERMANN SUDERMANN. With a Biographical Introduction by Elizabeth Lee.

“A powerful story, very simple, very direct.”--_Chicago Evening
Post._

“Contains some superb specimens of original thought.”--_New York
World._

THE NEW MOON. By C. E. RAIMOND, author of “George Mandeville’s Husband,” etc.

“One of the most impressive of recent works of fiction, both for
its matter and especially for its presentation.”--_Milwaukee
Journal._

* * * * *

SOME CHOICE FICTION.

EACH, 16MO, CLOTH, SPECIAL BINDING, $1.25.

_THE MYSTERY OF CHOICE._ By R. W. CHAMBERS, author of “The Moon-Maker,” “The Red Republic,” etc.

“Probably Mr. Robert W. Chambers is to-day the most promising
American writer of fiction of his age.... ‘The Mystery of Choice’
reveals his most delightful qualities at their best.... Imagination
he has first of all, and it is of a fine quality; constant action
he achieves without apparent effort; naturalness, vividness, the
power of description, and especially local color, come to him like
delight in one of those glorious mornings when distance seems
annihilated.”--_Boston Herald._

_MARCH HARES._ By HAROLD FREDERIC, author of “The Damnation of Theron Ware,” “In the Valley,” etc.

“One of the most cheerful novels we have chanced upon for many a
day. It has much of the rapidity and vigor of a smartly written
farce, with a pervading freshness a smartly written farce rarely
possesses.... A book decidedly worth reading.”--_London Saturday
Review._

“A striking and original story, ... effective, pleasing, and very
capable.”--_London Literary World._

“Mr. Frederic has found fairyland where few of us would dream of
looking for it.... ‘March Hares’ has a joyous impetus which carries
everything before it; and it enriches a class of fiction which
unfortunately is not copious.”--_London Daily Chronicle._

_GREEN GATES. An Analysis of Foolishness._ By Mrs. K. M. C.
MEREDITH (Johanna Staats), author of “Drumsticks,” etc.

“Crisp and delightful.... Fascinating, not so much for what it suggests as for its manner, and the cleverly outlined people who walk through its pages.”--_Chicago Times-Herald._

“An original strain, bright and vivacious, and strong enough in its foolishness and its unexpected tragedy to prove its sterling worth.”--_Boston Herald._

_THE STATEMENT OF STELLA MABERLY._ By F. ANSTEY, author of “Vice Versa,” “The Giant’s Robe,” etc.

“Most admirably done.... We read fascinated, and fully believing
every word we read.... The book has deeply interested us, and even
thrilled us more than once.”--_London Daily Chronicle._

“A wildly fantastic story, thrilling and impressive.... Has an air
of vivid reality, ... of bold conception and vigorous treatment....
A very noteworthy novelette.”--_London Times._

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.

* * * * *

STEPHEN CRANE’S BOOKS.

_THE THIRD VIOLET._ 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.

“By this latest product of his genius our impression of Mr. Crane
is confirmed that, for psychological insight, for dramatic
intensity, and for potency of phrase, he is already in the front
rank of English and American writers of fiction, and that he
possesses a certain separate quality which places him
apart.”--_London Academy._

“The whole book, from beginning to end, fairly bristles with
fun.... It is adapted for pure entertainment, yet it is not easily
put down or forgotten.”--_Boston Herald._

_THE LITTLE REGIMENT, and Other Episodes of the American Civil War_. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.

“In ‘The Little Regiment’ we have again studies of the volunteers
waiting impatiently to fight and fighting, and the impression of
the contest as a private soldier hears, sees, and feels it, is
really wonderful. The reader has no privileges. He must, it seems,
take his place in the ranks, and stand in the mud, wade in the
river, fight, yell, swear, and sweat with the men. He has some sort
of feeling, when it is all over, that he has been doing just these
things. This sort of writing needs no praise. It will make its way
to the hearts of men without praise.”--_New York Times._

“Told with a verve that brings a whiff of burning powder to one’s
nostrils.... In some way he blazons the scene before our eyes, and
makes us feel the very impetus of bloody war.”--_Chicago Evening
Post._

_MAGGIE: A GIRL OF THE STREETS._ 12mo. Cloth, 75 cents.

“By writing ‘Maggie’ Mr. Crane has made for himself a permanent
place in literature.... Zola himself scarcely has surpassed its
tremendous portrayal of throbbing, breathing, moving life.”--_New
York Mail and Express._

“Mr. Crane’s story should be read for the fidelity with which it
portrays a life that is potent on this island, along with the best
of us. It is a powerful portrayal, and, if somber and repellent,
none the less true, none the less freighted with appeal to those
who are able to assist in righting wrongs.”--_New York Times._

_THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE. An Episode of the American Civil War._ 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.

“Never before have we had the seamy side of glorious war so well
depicted.... The action of the story throughout is splendid, and
all aglow with color, movement, and vim. The style is as keen and
bright as a sword-blade, and a Kipling has done nothing better in
this line.”--_Chicago Evening Post._

“There is nothing in American fiction to compare with it.... Mr.
Crane has added to American literature something that has never
been done before, and that is, in its own peculiar way,
inimitable.”--_Boston Beacon._

“A truer and completer picture of war than either Tolstoy or
Zola.”--_London New Review._

* * * * *

By A. CONAN DOYLE.

_Uniform edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 per volume._

_UNCLE BERNAC. A Romance of the Empire._ Illustrated.

“‘Uncle Bernac’ is for a truth Dr. Doyle’s Napoleon. Viewed as a
picture of the little man in the gray coat, it must rank before
anything he has written. The fascination of it is
extraordinary.”--_London Daily Chronicle._

“From the opening pages the clear and energetic telling of the
story never falters and our attention never flags.”--_London
Observer._

_RODNEY STONE._ Illustrated.

“A remarkable book, worthy of the pen that gave us ‘The White
Company,’ ‘Micah Clarke,’ and other notable romances.”--_London
Daily News._

“A notable and very brilliant work of genius.”--_London Speaker._

“‘Rodney Stone’ is, in our judgment, distinctly the best of Dr.
Conan Doyle’s novels.... There are few descriptions in fiction that
can vie with that race upon the Brighton road.”--_London Times._

_THE EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD. A Romance of the Life of a Typical Napoleonic Soldier._ Illustrated.

“The brigadier is brave, resolute, amorous, loyal, chivalrous;
never was a foe more ardent in battle, more clement in victory, or
more ready at need.... Gallantry, humor, martial gayety, moving
incident, make up a really delightful book.”--_London Times._

“May be set down without reservation as the most thoroughly
enjoyable book that Dr. Doyle has ever published.”--_Boston
Beacon._

_THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS._ Being a Series of Twelve Letters written by STARK MUNRO, M. B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884. Illustrated.

“Cullingworth, ... a much more interesting creation than Sherlock
Holmes, and I pray Dr. Doyle to give us more of him.”--_Richard le
Gallienne, in the London Star._

“‘The Stark Munro Letters’ is a bit of real literature.... Its
reading will be an epoch-making event in many a
life.”--_Philadelphia Evening Telegraph._

_ROUND THE RED LAMP. Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life._

“Too much can not be said in praise of these strong productions,
that to read, keep one’s heart leaping to the throat, and the mind
in a tumult of anticipation to the end.... No series of short
stories in modern literature can approach them.”--_Hartford Times._

“If Dr. A. Conan Doyle had not already placed himself in the front
rank of living English writers by ‘The Refugees,’ and other of his
larger stories, he would surely do so by these fifteen short
tales.”--_New York Mail and Express._

* * * * *

BY ANTHONY HOPE.

_THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO._ With Photogravure Frontispiece by S. W. Van Schaick. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.

“No adventures were ever better worth recounting than are those of
Antonio of Monte Velluto, a very Bayard among outlaws.... To all
those whose pulses still stir at the recital of deeds of high
courage, we may recommend this book.... The chronicle conveys the
emotion of heroic adventure, and is picturesquely
written.”--_London Daily News._

“It has literary merits all its own, of a deliberate and rather
deep order.... In point of execution ‘The Chronicles of Count
Antonio’ is the best work that Mr. Hope has yet done. The design is
clearer, the workmanship more elaborate, the style more
colored.”--_Westminster Gazette._

“A romance worthy of all the expectations raised by the brilliancy
of his former books, and likely to be read with a keen enjoyment
and a healthy exaltation of the spirits by every one who takes it
up.”--_The Scotsman._

“A gallant tale, written with unfailing freshness and
spirit.”--_London Daily Telegraph._

“One of the most fascinating romances written in English within
many days. The quaint simplicity of its style is delightful, and
the adventures recorded in these ‘Chronicles of Count Antonio’ are
as stirring and ingenious as any conceived even by Weyman at his
best.”--_New York World._

“No adventures were ever better worth telling than those of Count
Antonio.... The author knows full well how to make every pulse
thrill, and how to hold his readers under the spell of his
magic.”--_Boston Herald._

_THE GOD IN THE CAR._ New edition. Uniform with “The Chronicles of Count Antonio.” 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.

“‘The God in the Car’ is just as clever, just as distinguished in
style, just as full of wit, and of what nowadays some persons like
better than wit--allusiveness--as any of his stories. It is
saturated with the modern atmosphere; is not only a very clever but
a very strong story; in some respects, we think, the strongest Mr.
Hope has yet written.”--_London Speaker._

“A very remarkable book, deserving of critical analysis impossible
within our limit; brilliant, but not superficial; well considered,
but not elaborated; constructed with the proverbial art that
conceals, but yet allows itself to be enjoyed by readers to whom
fine literary method is a keen pleasure.”--_London World._

“The book is a brilliant one.... ‘The God in the Car’ is one of the
most remarkable works in a year that has given us the handiwork of
nearly all our best living novelists.”--_London Standard._

* * * * *

SOME LEADING FICTION.

_THE GODS, SOME MORTALS, AND LORD WICKENHAM._ By JOHN OLIVER
HOBBES. With Portrait. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.

“One of the most refreshing novels of the period, full of grace, spirit, force, feeling, and literary charm.”--_Chicago Evening Post._

“Here is the sweetness of a live love story.... It is to be reckoned among the brilliants as a novel.”--_Boston Courier._

“Mrs. Craigie has taken her place among the novelists of the day. It is a high place and a place apart. Her method is her own, and she stands not exactly on the threshold of a great career, but already within the temple of fame.”--_G. W. Smalley, in the Tribune._

_MAELCHO._ By the Hon. EMILY LAWLESS, author of “Grania,”
“Hurrish,” etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.

“A paradox of literary genius. It is not a history, and yet it has more of the stuff of history in it, more of the true national character and fate, than any historical monograph we know. It is not a novel, and yet it fascinates us more than any novel.”--_London Spectator._

“Abounds in thrilling incidents.... Above and beyond all, the book charms by reason of the breadth of view, the magnanimity, and the tenderness which animate the author.”--_London Athenæum._

_AN IMAGINATIVE MAN._ By ROBERT S. HICHENS, author of “The Folly of
Eustace,” “The Green Carnation,” etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.

“A study in character.... Just as entertaining as though it were the conventional story of love and marriage. The clever hand of the author of ‘The Green Carnation’ is easily detected in the caustic wit and pointed epigram.”--_Jeannette L. Gilder, in the New York World._

_CORRUPTION._ By PERCY WHITE, author of “Mr. Bailey-Martin,” etc.
12mo. Cloth, $1.25.

“A drama of biting intensity. A tragedy of inflexible purpose and relentless result.”--_Pall Mall Gazette._

“There is intrigue enough in it for those who love a story of the ordinary kind, and the political part is perhaps more attractive in its sparkle and variety of incident than the real thing itself.”--_London Daily News._

_A HARD WOMAN. A Story in Scenes._ By VIOLET HUNT. 12mo. Cloth,
$1.25.

“A good story, bright, keen, and dramatic.... It is out of the ordinary, and will give you a new sensation.”--_New York Herald._

“A creation that does Mrs. Hunt infinite credit, and places her in the front rank of the younger novelists.... Brilliantly drawn, quivering with life, adroit, quiet-witted, unfalteringly insolent, and withal strangely magnetic.”--_London Standard._

* * * * *

GILBERT PARKER’S BEST BOOKS.

Uniform Edition.

_THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY._ Being the Memoirs of Captain ROBERT MORAY, sometime an Officer in the Virginia Regiment, and afterwards of Amherst’s Regiment. Illustrated, $1.50.

“Another historical romance of the vividness and intensity of ‘The
Seats of the Mighty’ has never come from the pen of an American.
Mr. Parker’s latest work may without hesitation be set down as the
best he has done. From the first chapter to the last word interest
in the book never wanes; one finds it difficult to interrupt the
narrative with breathing space. It whirls with excitement and
strange adventure.... All of the scenes do homage to the genius of
Mr. Parker, and make ‘The Seats of the Mighty’ one of the books of
the year.”--_Chicago Record._

“Mr. Gilbert Parker is to be congratulated on the excellence of his
latest story, ‘The Seats of the Mighty,’ and his readers are to be
congratulated on the direction which his talents have taken
therein.... It is so good that we do not stop to think of its
literature, and the personality of Doltaire is a masterpiece of
creative art.”--_New York Mail and Express._

_THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD._ A Novel. $1.25.

“Mr. Parker here adds to a reputation already wide, and anew
demonstrates his power of pictorial portrayal and of strong
dramatic situation and climax.”--_Philadelphia Bulletin._

“The tale holds the reader’s interest from first to last, for it is
full of fire and spirit, abounding in incident, and marked by good
character drawing.”--_Pittsburg Times._

_THE TRESPASSER._ $1.25.

“Interest, pith, force, and charm--Mr. Parker’s new story possesses
all these qualities.... Almost bare of synthetical decoration, his
paragraphs are stirring because they are real. We read at times--as
we have read the great masters of romance--breathlessly.”--_The
Critic._

“Gilbert Parker writes a strong novel, but thus far this is his
masterpiece.... It is one of the great novels of the
year.”--_Boston Advertiser._

_THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE._ $1.25.

“A book which no one will be satisfied to put down until the end
has been matter of certainty and assurance.”--_The Nation._

“A story of remarkable interest, originality, and ingenuity of
construction.”--_Boston Home Journal._

_MRS. FALCHION._ $1.25.

“A well-knit story, told in an exceedingly interesting way, and
holding the reader’s attention to the end.”

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Intercommuning--_i. e._, entertaining, assisting, or sheltering any who were counted unfriendly to the Government, or had been reported by the curates for not attending church. Even the smallest converse with proscribed persons was thought deserving of the pains of death.

[2] Gif-gaf, _i. e._, give and take, the interchange of pleasantry, parry of wit, the cut-and-thrust encounter of tongues, innocent enough but often rough.

[3] This was really the sweet and gentle youth James Renwick, though I knew not his name, till I saw them hang him in the Grassmarket of Edinburgh in the first year of my college-going.

[4] _I.e._, those who by the Covenanters were supposed to have _malignantly_ pursued and opposed their cause in the council or in the field.

[5] _I. e._, the taxes for the support of the military establishments.

[6] Like a fox in lambing-time.

[7] _I. e._, a marvel.

[8] Restive.

[9] Ben room--_i. e._, the inner or guest chamber.

[10] The death grips.

[11] Red ashes.

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

I proceeded nothwards=> I proceeded nothwards {pg 43}

far beter than miles=> far better than miles {pg 49}

within a litle breakwater=> within a little breakwater {pg 58}

it apppears noways=> it appears noways {pg 85}

Bull of Earlestoun=> Bull of Earlstoun {pg 85}

looking me directly in the yes=> looking me directly in the eyes {pg 130}

who died at Arysmoss=> who died at Ayrsmoss {pg 139}

and the leters I had to write=> and the letters I had to write {pg 145}