As he passed Glenavelin among the trees the thought of Alice was a sharp
pang of regret. He could never more lift his eyes in that young and
radiant presence. He pictured the successful Stocks welcomed by her,
and words of praise for which he would have given his immortal soul,
meted out lavishly to that owl-like being. It was a dismal business,
and ruefully, but half-humorously, he caught at the paradox of his fate.
Through the swiftly failing darkness the inn of Etterick rose before
him, a place a little apart from the village street. A noise of talk
floated from the kitchen and made him halt at the door and dismount.
The place would be full of folk discussing the election, and he would go
in among them and learn the worst opinion which men might have of him.
After all, they were his own people, who had known him in his power as
they now saw him in his weakness. If he had failed he was not wholly
foolish; they knew his few redeeming virtues, and they would be
generous.
The talk stopped short as he entered, and he saw through the tobacco
reek half a dozen lengthy faces wearing the air of solemnity which the
hillman adopts in his pleasures. They were all his own herds and
keepers, save two whom he knew for foresters from Glenavelin. He was
recognized at once, and with a general nervous shuffling they began to
make room for the laird at the table.
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