James Starr had decided, very sensibly, to set off in the evening. It would be very much better for the girl to pass gradually from the darkness of night to the full light of day; and that would in this way be managed, since between midnight and noon she would experience the successive phases of shade and sunshine, to which her sight had to get accustomed.
Just as they left the cottage, Nell took Harry’s hand saying, “Harry, is it really necessary for me to leave the mine at all, even for these few days?”
“Yes, it is, Nell,” replied the young man. “It is needful for both of us.”
“But, Harry,” resumed Nell, “ever since you found me, I have been as happy as I can possibly be. You have been teaching me. Why is that not enough? What am I going up there for?”
Harry looked at her in silence. Nell was giving utterance to nearly his own thoughts.
“My child,” said James Starr, “I can well understand the hesitation you feel; but it will be good for you to go with us. Those who love you are taking you, and they will bring you back again. Afterwards you will be free, if you wish it, to continue your life in the coal mine, like old Simon, and Madge, and Harry. But at least you ought to be able to compare what you give up with what you choose, then decide freely. Come!”
“Come, dear Nell!” cried Harry.
“Harry, I am willing to follow you,” replied the maiden. At nine o’clock the last train through the tunnel started to convey Nell and her companions to the surface of the earth. Twenty minutes later they alighted on the platform where the branch line to New Aberfoyle joins the railway from Dumbarton to Stirling.
The night was already dark. From the horizon to the zenith, light vapory clouds hurried through the upper air, driven by a refreshing northwesterly breeze. The day had been lovely; the night promised to be so likewise.
On reaching Stirling, Nell and her friends, quitting the train, left the station immediately. Just before them, between high trees, they could see a road which led to the banks of the river Forth.
The first physical impression on the girl was the purity of the air inhaled eagerly by her lungs.
“Breathe it freely, Nell,” said James Starr; “it is fragrant with all the scents of the open country.”
“What is all that smoke passing over our heads?” inquired Nell.
“Those are clouds,” answered Harry, “blown along by the westerly wind.”
“Ah!” said Nell, “how I should like to feel myself carried along in that silent whirl! And what are those shining sparks which glance here and there between rents in the clouds?”
“Those are the stars I have told you about, Nell. So many suns they are, so many centers of worlds like our own, most likely.”
The constellations became more clearly visible as the wind cleared the clouds from the deep blue of the firmament. Nell gazed upon the myriad stars which sparkled overhead. “But how is it,” she said at length, “that if these are suns, my eyes can endure their brightness?”
“My child,” replied James Starr, “they are indeed suns, but suns at an enormous distance. The nearest of these millions of stars, whose rays can reach us, is Vega, that star in Lyra which you observe near the zenith, and that is fifty thousand millions of leagues distant. Its brightness, therefore, cannot affect your vision. But our own sun, which will rise tomorrow, is only distant thirty-eight millions of leagues, and no human eye can gaze fixedly upon that, for it is brighter than the blaze of any furnace. But come, Nell, come!”
They pursued their way, James Starr leading the maiden, Harry walking by her side, while Jack Ryan roamed about like a young dog, impatient of the slow pace of his masters. The road was lonely. Nell kept looking at the great trees, whose branches, waving in the wind, made them seem to her like giants gesticulating wildly. The sound of the breeze in the treetops, the deep silence during a lull, the distant line of the horizon, which could be discerned when the road passed over open levels—all these things filled her with new sensations, and left lasting impressions on her mind.
After some time she ceased to ask questions, and her companions respected her silence, not wishing to influence by any words of theirs the girl’s highly sensitive imagination, but preferring to allow ideas to arise spontaneously in her soul.
At about half past eleven o’clock, they gained the banks of the river Forth. There a boat, chartered by James Starr, awaited them. In a few hours it would convey them all to Granton. Nell looked at the clear water which flowed up to her feet, as the waves broke gently on the beach, reflecting the starlight. “Is this a lake?” said she.
“No,” replied Harry, “it is a great river flowing towards the sea, and soon opening so widely as to resemble a gulf. Taste a little of the water in the hollow of your hand, Nell, and you will perceive that it is not sweet like the waters of Lake Malcolm.”
The maiden bent towards the stream, and, raising a little water to her lips, “This is quite salt,” said she.
“Yes, the tide is full; the sea water flows up the river as far as this,” answered Harry.
“Oh, Harry! Harry!” exclaimed the maiden, “what can that red glow on the horizon be? Is it a forest on fire?”
“No, it is the rising moon, Nell.”
“To be sure, that’s the moon,” cried Jack Ryan, “a fine big silver plate, which the spirits of air hand round and round the sky to collect the stars in, like money.”
“Why, Jack,” said the engineer, laughing, “I had no idea you could strike out such bold comparisons!”
“Well, but, Mr. Starr, it is a just comparison. Don’t you see the stars disappear as the moon passes on? so I suppose they drop into
