In the candle’s glow the watchers saw the glint of tears in the colonel’s eyes

Kirsty had risen, seeking Crawford’s attention. “If you please, Colonel?” He gave her an encouraging smile. “Yes, Miss McAllan?”

“When Captain Marshall questioned you earlier about what was afoot, you said, ‘Firstly there was the invasion’. May I ask, sir, what was second in your considerations?” A murmur of agreement rose from the others. “Well said,” Crawford conceded amiably. “Let me answer by taking you back to the days following Robert’s abduction.

“With him stolen from us and seemingly lost for ever, Catriona and I tried to live normal lives.

“I thought it best that we should leave Perthshire and its unhappy memories.

“After the rebellion of 30 years ago many Jacobites had fled to Italy and France for safety, and over the years they prepared for the next attempt to return the exiled Stuarts to the throne.”

Ignoring a derisory snort from Robert, he went on. “I decided I would make for France, offer my services to the military and then send for Catriona to join me.” Without warning he struck the ledge of the pulpit. “The stupidest thing I’ve ever done!”

“Are you saying you abandoned your wife, this woman you say was my mother?” Robert shouted up to the pulpit.

Sorrowful

“Abandoned? How dare you, sir! I loved your mother dearly! I would never knowingly have hurt her. I meant only to set up a home for her abroad.”

In the candle’s glow the watchers saw the glint of tears in the colonel’s eyes. Crawford rubbed his forehead, composing himself.

“I set sail for France, leaving Catriona in the hands of Ann and another woman companion called –” He snapped his fingers. “What was her name, Ann?”

“Meg Lawson,” McLaurin told him. “She’s dead now. McLean told me he killed her. But she was with me when...” Her lips trembled. “When we, oh, sir, I’d rather you told it.” “Of course. Calm yourself, Ann.” Crawford made his way down the pulpit steps to where Lady Catherine was seated. He stood before her, his expression sorrowful.

“In my absence your father had a change of heart. Did you know that?”

Staring up at him, the woman shook her head.

“He wanted a reconciliation with Catriona, but he was too ill to travel himself. So he sent McLean again, this time to fetch her and assure her of his forgiveness.

“Of course, she was still unaware of her father’s earlier duplicity.” He frowned. “She made McLean welcome and agreed to accompany him back to Sir Patrick. She was in the last few days of her second pregnancy and was reluctant to travel. McLean insisted, however, and they set off, Ann and Meg in attendance.

“Instead of making for the Crichton estate, McLean took them to Skye on the pretext that Sir Patrick would join them there. Catriona barely made the journey safely before she went into labour.” The silence in the kirk was palpable. “What was this man McLean’s intent?” Malcolm Porteous asked.

“He was misguided enough to think he was acting for the good of Catriona’s father. Her first child had been taken from her, and here was another on the way!”

Habitable

McLaurin turned towards Malcolm. “He took us to this deserted house in a place called Elgol and bade Meg and me make it habitable.

“We had a few belongings with us – food, blankets and a fine crib.” She broke off, pointing at Robert. “The very one you lay in as a babe, my lad. We’d scarce arrived before Catriona went into labour.”

“Thank you, Ann.” Crawford’s face was sorrowful. “The birth was long and exhausting and my dear Catriona died hours later.”

Lady Catherine wiped a tear from her eye. “The child, Alastair! What of the child? Did it survive?”

Lady Catherine’s question echoed in the hearts of everyone there.

Instead of replying, Colonel Alastair Crawford cocked an eyebrow at Miss McLaurin, who immediately understood his meaning.

“Thomas McLean threatened Meg and me with death if we revealed what had occurred,” she said calmly. “I’m certain he reported back to Sir Patrick that his quest had failed.

“That Catriona had died in childbirth before he reached her, and that the child had been stillborn. In fact, he flung Catriona’s body overboard during the journey to the mainland.”

There was a stunned silence as the cruelty of that dreadful act sank in. “Then the child did die?” Alison cried at last.

Miss McLaurin pursed her lips. “We were ordered, again on pain of death, to take the crib and cast it from the cliffs into the sea.”

“With Catriona’s child in it? You were to murder a defenceless babe?”

Again horror rippled around the assembly. “How could you do that?” Alison whispered. “She didn’t.” All eyes turned towards John Porteous. His face was pale, his lips trembling as he rose to his feet. He moved forward, to halt in front of the old woman. “You and Meg didn’t commit murder, did you?” “You know I did not, John,” McLaurin whispered. “Meg and I could never have done such a terrible thing.” She looked knowingly at the man. “And you have good reason to accept my word, have you not?”

As the impact of her words struck him, Porteous gave a hoarse cry which caused his wife to leap from her seat to join him. They clasped each other fervently.

Bewildered

Bewildered, Alison took a faltering step towards them. “What is it?” she asked, placing a hand on Agnes’s shoulder.

Disengaging himself from his wife’s arms, Porteous took Alison’s hands in his. She saw tears in his eyes and was about to repeat her question when he placed a finger to her lips. “Hush, my dear.” He looked reproachfully at Alastair Crawford. “This is a day I hoped would never come.” “You were warned it would.” Crawford’s face was impassive.

“Aye.” Porteous sighed. “But it’s been so long, I hoped...” He pulled Agnes to him. “We hoped we’d be left in peace.”

“Will someone tell me what this is about?” Alison pleaded.

Agnes Porteous, her eyes wet, looked longingly at her. “Oh, lass,” she murmured. “It’s him.” She pointed to Crawford. “He’s your father.”

More on Monday.

Glens of Stone was previously a serial in The People’s Friend. There’s more great fiction in The People’s Friend every week, £1.30 from newsagents and supermarkets.

Artwork: Mandy Dixon