diff options
Diffstat (limited to '43445-rst/43445-rst.rst')
| -rw-r--r-- | 43445-rst/43445-rst.rst | 7908 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 7908 deletions
diff --git a/43445-rst/43445-rst.rst b/43445-rst/43445-rst.rst deleted file mode 100644 index aa8ebcb..0000000 --- a/43445-rst/43445-rst.rst +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7908 +0,0 @@ -.. -*- encoding: utf-8 -*-
-
-.. meta::
- :PG.Id: 43445
- :PG.Title: White Heather (Volume II of 3)
- :PG.Released: 2013-08-11
- :PG.Rights: Public Domain
- :PG.Producer: Al Haines
- :DC.Creator: William Black
- :DC.Title: White Heather (Volume II of 3)
- A Novel
- :DC.Language: en
- :DC.Created: 1885
- :coverpage: images/img-cover.jpg
-
-=======================
-WHITE HEATHER (VOL. II)
-=======================
-
-.. clearpage::
-
-.. pgheader::
-
-.. container:: titlepage center white-space-pre-line
-
- .. vspace:: 4
-
- .. class:: x-large
-
- WHITE HEATHER
-
- .. class:: large
-
- A Novel
-
- .. vspace:: 2
-
- .. class:: medium
-
- BY
-
- .. class:: large
-
- WILLIAM BLACK
-
- .. vspace:: 2
-
- .. class:: small
-
- AUTHOR OF 'MACLEOD OF DARE,'
- 'JUDITH SHAKESPEARE,' ETC.
-
- .. vspace:: 3
-
- .. class:: small
-
- *IN THREE VOLUMES*
-
- .. class:: medium
-
- VOL. II.
-
- .. vspace:: 3
-
- .. class:: medium
-
- London
- MACMILLAN AND CO.
- 1885
-
- .. class:: small
-
- *The right of translation is reserved.*
-
- .. vspace:: 4
-
-.. container:: verso center white-space-pre-line
-
- .. class:: small
-
- Printed by R. & R. CLARK, Edinburgh.
-
- .. vspace:: 4
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER I.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `A FURTHER DISCOVERY`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER II.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `CONFESSIONS`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER III.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `HESITATIONS`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER IV.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `'AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS'`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER V.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER VI.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `POETA ... NON FIT`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER VII.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER VIII.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `THE PARTING`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER IX.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `SOUTHWARDS`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER X.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `GRAY DAYS`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER XI.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `KATE`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER XII.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `A SOCIAL EVENING`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER XIII.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `INDUCEMENTS`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER XIV.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `ENTANGLEMENTS`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER XV.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `CAMPSIE GLEN`_
-
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center
-
- CHAPTER XVI.
-
-.. class:: noindent
-
- `THE DOWNWARD WAY`_
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`A FURTHER DISCOVERY`:
-
-.. class:: center x-large bold
-
- WHITE HEATHER.
-
-.. vspace:: 3
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER I.
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- A FURTHER DISCOVERY.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-It can hardly be wondered at that these suddenly presented
-ambitious projects—this call to be up and doing, and getting
-forward in the general race of the world—should add a
-new interest and fascination, in his eyes, to the society of
-the American father and daughter who had wandered into
-these distant wilds. And perhaps, after all, he had been
-merely wasting his time and throwing away his life?
-That solitary, contented, healthy and happy existence was a
-mistake—an idle dream—an anachronism, even? The
-common way of the world was right; and that, as he heard
-of it in the echoes brought by these strangers from without,
-was all a pushing and striving and making the most of
-opportunities, until the end was reached—independence
-and ease and wealth; the power of choosing this or that
-continent for a residence; the radiant happiness and glow
-of success. And then it all seemed so easy and practicable
-when he heard these two talking about their friends and the
-fortunes they had made; and it seemed still more easy—and
-a far more desirable and beautiful thing—when it was
-Miss Carry herself who was speaking, she seated alone in
-the stern of the boat, her eyes—that had a kind of surface
-darkness and softness, like blackberries wet with
-rain—helping out her speech, and betraying an open friendliness,
-and even conferring a charm on her descriptions of that
-far-off pork-producing city of the west. Mr. Hodson, as he
-sate upright in his easy-chair before the fire, spoke slowly
-and sententiously, and without any visible enthusiasm;
-Miss Carry, in the stern of the coble, her face all lit up with
-the blowing winds and the sunlight, talked with far greater
-vivacity, and was obviously deeply interested in the future
-of her companion. And it had come to this now, that,
-as she sate opposite him, he quite naturally and habitually
-regarded her eyes as supplementing her meaning; he no
-longer rather shrank from the directness of her look; he
-no longer wished that she would sit the other way, and attend
-to the tops of the salmon-rods. As for their speech together,
-the exceeding frankness of it and lack of conventionality
-arose from one or two causes, but no doubt partly from
-this—that during their various adventures on the loch there
-was no time for the observance of studied forms. It was
-'Do this' and 'Do that,' on his part—sometimes with even
-a sharp word of monition; and with her it was 'Will that
-do, Ronald?' or again,—when she was standing up in fell
-encounter with her unseen enemy, both hands engaged
-with the rod—'Ronald, tie my cap down, or the wind will
-blow it away—No, no, the other strings—underneath!'
-
-Indeed, on the morning after the evening on which
-they had been urging him to make a career for himself,
-there was not much chance of any calm discussion of that
-subject. The proceedings of the day opened in a remarkably
-lively manner. For one thing the wind had backed
-still farther during the night, and was now blowing briskly
-from the north, bringing with it from time to time smart
-snow showers that blackened the heavens and earth for a
-few minutes and then sped on, leaving the peaks and
-shoulders and even the lower spurs of the hills all a
-gleaming white in the wintry sunlight.
-
-'Salmon-fishing in a snow-storm—well, I declare!' said
-she, as she stood on the shore of the lake, watching him
-putting the rods together.
-
-'The very best time,' said he, in his positive way (for he
-had assumed a kind of authority over her, whereas with
-Meenie he was always reserved and distant and timidly
-gentle). 'None better. I would just like to find a foot of
-snow on the ground, right down to the edge of the loch;
-and the flakes falling so thick ye couldna see a dozen yards
-ahead of ye.'
-
-'Do you know where I should be then?' she retorted.
-'I should be warming my toes in front of Mrs. Murray's
-peat-fire.'
-
-'Not one bit,' said he, just as positively. 'If ye heard
-the salmon were taking, ye'd be down here fast enough, I'm
-thinking.'
-
-And presently it seemed as if this early start of theirs
-was to be rewarded, for scarcely were both lines out—and
-Miss Carry was just settling herself down for a little quiet
-talk, and was pulling the collar of her ulster higher over her
-ears (for the wind was somewhat cold)—when a sudden
-tugging and straining at one of the rods, followed by a
-sharp scream of the reel, upset all these little plans. She
-made a dash at the rod and raised it quickly.
-
-'That's a good fish—that's a good fish!' Ronald cried,
-with his mouth set hard. 'Now let's see if we canna hold
-on to this one. Let him go, lassie!—I beg your pardon—let
-him go—let him go—that's right—a clean fish, and a
-beauty!'
-
-Beauty or no, the salmon had no hesitation about showing
-himself, at least; for now he began to lash the surface
-of the water, some fifty yards away, not springing into the
-air, but merely beating the waves with head and body and
-tail to get rid of this unholy thing that he had pursued and
-gripped. Then down he went with a mighty plunge—the
-reel whirring out its shrill cry, and Miss Carry's gloves
-suffering in consequence—and there he sulked; so that
-they backed the boat again, and again she got in some of
-the line. What was the sound that came across the lake
-to them, in the face of the northerly wind?
-
-'They're waving a handkerchief to ye, Miss Hodson,'
-said he, 'from the other boat.'
-
-'Oh, bother,' said she (for the strain of a heavy salmon
-and forty yards of line was something on her arms), 'here,
-take the handkerchief from this breast-pocket, and wave it
-back to them—stand up beside me—they won't see the
-difference——'
-
-He did as he was bid; apparently she paid little
-attention; she seemed wholly bent on getting the fish. And
-clearly the salmon had somewhat exhausted himself with
-his first escapades; he now lay deep down, not stirring an
-inch; so that she got in her line until there was not more
-than twenty yards out: then they waited.
-
-And meanwhile this strange thing that was overtaking
-them? The bright, windy, changeable day—with its
-gleaming snow-slopes and sunlit straths and woods darkened by
-passing shadows—seemed to be slowly receding from them,
-and around them came a kind of hushed and stealthy
-gloom. And then the wind stirred again; the gusts came
-sharper and colder; here and there a wet particle stung the
-cheek or the back of the hand. Of course, she was in a
-death-struggle with a salmon; she could not heed. And
-presently the gathering blackness all around seemed to
-break into a soft bewilderment of snow; large, soft, woolly
-flakes came driving along before the wind; all the world
-was shut out from them; they could see nothing but a
-short space of livid dark water, and feel nothing but this
-choking silent thing in the air. And then again, with a
-magical rapidity, the heavens and the earth seemed to open
-above and around them; the clouds swept on; there was
-a great deep of dazzling blue suddenly revealed in the sky
-overhead; and all the dancing waters of the lake, from the
-boat to the farthest shores, were one flashing and lapping
-mass of keen, pure cobalt, absolutely bewildering to the
-eyes. The joy of that radiant colour, after the mystery and
-the darkness! And then the sunlight broke out; and
-Clebrig had a touch of gold along his mighty shoulders;
-and Ben Loyal's snow-slopes were white against the brilliant
-blue; and it seemed as if the fairest of soft summer skies
-were shining over Bonnie Strath-Naver.
-
-To her it meant that she could see a little more clearly.
-She shook the snowflakes from her hair.
-
-'Ronald, you are sure it is not a kelt?'
-
-'Indeed I am. There's nothing of the kelt about that one.'
-
-'If it is,' said she, 'I'll go home and tell my ma.'
-
-She was clearly feeling a little more secure about this
-one. And she did capture the creature in the end, though
-it was after a long and arduous struggle. For he was a
-strong fish—fresh run up from the sea, and heavy for his
-size; and again and again, and a dozen times repeated,
-he would make rushes away from the boat just as they
-thought he was finally showing the white feather. It was
-the toughest fight she had had; but practice was hardening
-her muscles a little; and she had acquired a little dexterity
-in altering her position and shifting the strain. By this
-time the other boat was coming round.
-
-'Stick to him, Carry!' her father cried. 'No Secesh
-tactics allowed: hold on to him!'
-
-The next moment Ronald had settled all that by a
-smart scoop of the clip; and there in the bottom of the
-boat lay a small-headed deep-shouldered fish of just over
-sixteen pounds—Ronald pinning him down to get the
-minnow out of his jaw, and the lad Johnnie grinning all
-over his ruddy face with delight.
-
-Miss Carry looked on in a very calm and business-like
-fashion; though in reality her heart was beating quickly—with
-gladness and exultation. And then, with the same
-business-like calmness, she took from the deep pocket of
-her ulster a flask that she had borrowed from Mr. Murray.
-
-'Ronald,' said she, 'you must drink to our good luck.'
-
-She handed him the flask. She appeared to be quite to
-the manner born now. You would not have imagined
-that her heart was beating so quickly, or her hands just a
-little bit nervous and shaky after that prolonged excitement.
-
-Good luck seemed to follow the Duke's boat this morning.
-Within the next three quarters of an hour they had got hold
-of another salmon—just over ten pounds. And it was
-barely lunch time when they had succeeded in landing a
-third—this time a remarkably handsome fish of fifteen
-pounds. She now thought she had done enough. She
-resumed her seat contentedly; there was no elation visible
-on her face. But she absolutely forbade the putting out of
-the lines again.
-
-'Look here, Ronald,' she said seriously. 'What do you
-think I came here for? Do you think I came here to
-leave my bones in a foreign land? I am just about dead
-now. My arms are not made of steel. We can go ashore,
-and get lunch unpacked; the other boat will follow quickly
-enough. I tell you my arms and wrists have just had about
-enough for one morning.'
-
-And a very snug and merry little luncheon-party they
-made there—down by the side of the lapping water, and
-under the shelter of a wood of young birch-trees. For the
-other boat had brought ashore two salmon; so that the
-five handsome fish, laid side by side on a broad slab of
-rock, made an excellent show. Miss Carry said nothing
-about her arms aching; but she did not seem to be in as
-great a hurry as the others to set to work again. No; she
-enjoyed the rest; and, observing that Ronald had finished
-his lunch, she called to him, under the pretext of wanting
-to know something about sending the fish south. This led
-on to other things; the three of them chatting together
-contentedly enough, and Ronald even making bold enough to
-light his pipe. A very friendly little group this was—away
-by themselves there in these wintry solitudes—with the wide
-blue waters of the lake in front of them, and the snows of
-Clebrig white against the sky. And if he were to go away
-from these familiar scenes, might he not come back again
-in the after days? And with the splendid power of remaining
-or going, just as he pleased?—just as these friendly
-folk could, who spoke so lightly of choosing this or that
-quarter of the globe for their temporary habitation? Yes,
-there were many things that money could do: these two
-strangers, now, could linger here at Inver-Mudal just as
-long as the salmon-fishing continued to amuse them; or
-they could cross over to Paris, and see the wonders there;
-or they could go away back to the great cities and harbours
-and lakes and huge hotels that they spoke so much about.
-He listened with intensest interest, and with a keen
-imagination. And was this part of the shore around them—with
-its rocks and brushwood and clear water—really like the
-shores of Lake George, where she was so afraid of
-rattlesnakes? She said she would send him some photographs
-of Lake Michigan.
-
-Then in the boat in the afternoon she quite innocently
-remarked that she wished he was going back home with
-them; for that he would find the voyage across the Atlantic
-so amusing. She described the people coming out to say
-good-bye at Liverpool; and the throwing of knives and
-pencil-cases and what not as farewell gifts from the steamer
-to the tender, and *vice versâ*; she described the scamper
-round Queenstown and the waiting for the mails; then the
-long days on the wide ocean, with all the various occupations,
-and the concerts in the evening, and the raffles in
-the smoking-room (this from hearsay); then the crowding
-on deck for the first glimpse of the American coast-line;
-and the gliding over the shallows of Sandy Hook; and the
-friends who would come steaming down the Bay to wave
-handkerchiefs and welcome them home. She seemed to
-regard it as a quite natural and simple thing that he should
-be of this party; and that, after landing, her father should
-take him about and 'see him through,' as it were; and if
-her fancy failed to carry out these forecasts, and to picture
-him walking along Dearborn Avenue or driving out with
-them to Washington Park, it was that once or twice ere
-now she had somehow arrived at the notion that Ronald
-Strang and Chicago would prove to be incongruous. Or
-was it some instinctive feeling that, however natural and
-fitting their friendship might be in this remote little place
-in the Highlands, it might give rise to awkwardness over
-there? Anyhow, that could not prevent her father from
-seeing that Ronald had ample introductions and guidance
-when he landed at New York; and was not that the proper
-sphere for one of his years and courage and abilities?
-
-When they got ashore at the end of the day it was found
-that each boat had got two more salmon, so that there was
-a display of nine big fish on the grass there in the gathering
-dusk.
-
-'And to think that I should live to catch five salmon in
-one day,' said Miss Carry, as she contemplated her share
-of the spoil. 'Well, no one will believe it; for they're just
-real mean people at home; and they won't allow that
-anything's happened to you in Europe unless you have
-something to show for it. I suppose Ronald would give me a
-written guarantee. Anyway, I am going to take that big
-one along to the Doctor—it will be a good introduction,
-won't it, pappa?'
-
-But a curious thing happened about that same salmon.
-When they got to the inn the fish were laid out on the
-stone flags of the dairy—the coolest and safest place for
-them in the house; and Miss Carry, who had come along
-to see them, when she wanted anything done, naturally
-turned to Ronald.
-
-'Ronald,' said she, 'I want to give that big one to
-Mrs. Douglas, and I am going along now to the cottage. Will
-you carry it for me?'
-
-He said something about getting a piece of string and
-left. A couple of minutes thereafter the lad Johnnie
-appeared, with a stout bit of cord in his hand; and he,
-having affixed that to the head and the tail of the salmon,
-caught it up, and stood in readiness. She seemed surprised.
-
-'Where is Ronald?' said she—for he was always at her
-bidding.
-
-'He asked me to carry the fish to the Doctor's house,
-mem,' said the lad. 'Will I go now?'
-
-Moreover, this salmon was accidentally responsible for
-a still further discovery. When Miss Carry went along to
-call on the Douglases, little Maggie was with her friend
-Meenie; and they all of them had tea together; and when
-the little Maggie considered it fitting she should go home,
-Miss Carry said she would accompany her—for it was now
-quite dark. And they had a good deal of talk by the way,
-partly about schooling and accomplishments, but much
-more largely about Ronald, who was the one person in all
-the world in the eyes of his sister. And if Maggie was
-ready with her information, this pretty young lady was
-equally interested in receiving it, and also in making
-inquiries. And thus it came about that Miss Carry now for
-the first time learned that Ronald was in the habit of
-writing poems, verses, and things of that kind; and that they
-were greatly thought of by those who had seen them or to
-whom he had sent them.
-
-'Why, I might have guessed as much,' she said to
-herself, as she walked on alone to the inn—though what
-there was in Ronald's appearance to suggest that he was
-a writer of rhymes it might have puzzled any one to determine.
-
-But this was a notable discovery; and it set her quick
-and fertile brain working in a hundred different ways; but
-mostly she bethought her of one John C. Huysen and of
-a certain newspaper-office on Fifth Avenue, Chicago, 111.
-
-'Well, there,' she said to herself, as the result of these
-rapid cogitations, 'if Jack Huysen's good for anything—if
-he wants to say he has done me a service—if he wants to
-show he has the spirit of a man in him—well, *now's his
-chance*.'
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`CONFESSIONS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER II.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- CONFESSIONS.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-It was but another instance of the curiously magnetic
-influence of this man's personality that she instantly and
-unhesitatingly assumed that what he wrote must be of value.
-Now every second human being, as well she knew, writes
-verses at one period of his life, and these are mostly trash;
-and remain discreetly hidden, or are mercifully burned.
-But what Ronald wrote, she was already certain, must be
-characteristic of himself, and have interest and definite
-worth; and what better could she do than get hold of some
-of these things, and have them introduced to the public,
-perhaps with some little preliminary encomium written by
-a friendly hand? She had heard from the little Maggie
-that Ronald had never sent any of his writings to the
-newspapers; might not this be a service? She could not offer
-him a sovereign because he happened to be in the boat
-when she caught her first salmon; but fame—the appeal
-to the wide-reading public—the glory of print? Nay,
-might they not be of some commercial value also? She
-knew but little of the customs of the Chicago journals, but
-she guessed that a roundabout hint conveyed to Mr. John
-C. Huysen would not be without effect. And what were
-the subjects, she asked herself, that Ronald wrote about?
-In praise of deerstalking, for one thing, and mountain-climbing,
-and out-of-door life, she felt assured: you could
-see it in his gait and in his look; you could hear it in his
-laugh and his singing as he went along the road. Politics,
-perhaps—if sarcastic verses were in his way; for there was
-a sharp savour running through his talk; and he took
-abundant interest in public affairs. Or perhaps he would
-be for recording the charms of some rustic maiden—some
-'Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane'—some blue-eyed and
-rather silent and uninteresting young person, living alone
-in a glen, and tending cattle or hanging out things to dry
-on a hedge? Well, even a song would be something. The
-*Chicago Citizen* might not pay very much for it, but the
-great and generous public might take kindly to it; and if
-Jack Huysen did not say something friendly about it, then
-she would know the reason why.
-
-But the stiffest struggle Miss Carry ever had with any
-salmon was mere child's play compared with the fight she
-had with Ronald himself over this matter. At first he was
-exceedingly angry that she should have been told; but
-then he laughed, and said to her that there were plenty of
-folk in Scotland as elsewhere who wrote idle verses, but
-that they had the common sense to say nothing about it.
-If she wanted a memento of her stay in the Highlands to
-take back with her to America, he would give her her choice
-of the deer-skins he had in the shed; that would be
-appropriate, and she was welcome to the best of them; but as
-for scribblings and nonsense of that kind—no, no. On the
-other hand she was just as persistent, and treated him to
-a little gentle raillery, wondering that he had not yet
-outgrown the years of shyness; and finally, when everything
-else had failed, putting her request as a grace and courtesy
-to be granted to an American stranger. This was hardly
-fair; but she was very anxious about the matter; and she
-knew that her demand was founded far less on mere
-curiosity than on an honest desire to do him a service.
-
-Of course he yielded; and a terrible time he had of it
-the night he set about selecting something to show to her.
-For how could she understand the circumstances in which
-these random things were written—these idle fancies of a
-summer morning—these careless love songs—these rhymed
-epistles in which the practical common sense and shrewd
-advice were much more conspicuous than any graces of art?
-And then again so many of them were about Meenie; and
-these were forbidden; the praise of Meenie—even when it
-was the birds and the roses and the foxgloves and the summer
-rills that sang of her—was not for alien eyes. But at last
-he lit upon some verses supposed to convey the sentiments
-of certain exiles met together on New Year's night in Nova
-Scotia; and he thought it was a simple kind of thing; at
-all events it would get him out of a grievous difficulty.
-So—for the lines had been written many a day ago, and came
-upon him now with a new aspect—he altered a phrase here
-or there, by way of passing the time; and finally he made
-a fair copy. The next morning, being a Sunday, he espied
-Miss Carry walking down towards the river; and he overtook
-her and gave her this little piece to redeem his pledge.
-
-'It's not worth much,' said he, 'but you'll understand
-what it is about. Burn it when you've read it—that's all I
-ask of ye——' Then on he went, glad not to be
-cross-questioned, the faithful Harry trotting at his heels.
-
-So she sat down on the stone parapet of the little
-bridge—on this hushed, still, shining morning that was
-quite summer-like in its calm—and opened the paper with
-not a little curiosity. And well enough she understood
-the meaning of the little piece: she knew that the
-Mackays[#] used to live about here; and was not Strath-Naver
-but a few miles off; and this the very Mudal river
-running underneath the bridge on which she was sitting?
-But here are the verses she read—and he had entitled
-them
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent small
-
-[#] Pronounced *Mackise*, with the accent on the second syllable.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-.. class:: center italics
-
- ACROSS THE SEA.
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | In Nova Scotia's clime they've met
- | To keep the New Year's night;
- | The merry lads and lasses crowd
- | Around the blazing light.
- |
- | But father and mother sit withdrawn
- | To let their fancies flee
- | To the old, old time, and the old, old home
- | That's far across the sea.
- |
- | And what strange sights and scenes are these
- | That sadden their shaded eyes?
- | Is it only thus they can see again
- | The land of the Mackays?
- |
- | O there the red-deer roam at will:
- | And the grouse whirr on the wing;
- | And the curlew call, and the ptarmigan
- | Drink at the mountain spring;
- |
- | And the hares lie snug on the hillside:
- | And the lusty blackcock crows;
- | But the river the children used to love
- | Through an empty valley flows.
- |
- | Do they see again a young lad wait
- | To shelter with his plaid,
- | When she steals to him in the gathering dusk.
- | His gentle Highland maid?
- |
- | Do they hear the pipes at the weddings;
- | Or the low sad funeral wail
- | As the boat goes out to the island,
- | And the pibroch tells its tale?
- |
- | O fair is Naver's strath, and fair
- | The strath that Mudal laves;
- | And dear the haunts of our childhood,
- | And dear the old folks' graves;
- |
- | And the parting from one's native land
- | Is a sorrow hard to dree:
- | God's forgiveness to them that sent us
- | So far across the sea!
- |
- | And is bonnie Strath-Naver shining,
- | As it shone in the bygone years?—
- | As it shines for us now—ay, ever—
- | Though our eyes are blind with tears.
- |
-
-Well, her own eyes were moist—though that was but
-for a moment; for when she proceeded to walk slowly and
-meditatively back to the inn, her mind was busy with many
-things; and she began to think that she had not got any
-way near to the understanding of this man, whom she had
-treated in so familiar a fashion, as boatman, and
-companion, and gillie—almost as valet. What lay behind
-those eyes of his, that glowed with so strange a light at
-times, and seemed capable of reading her through and
-through, only that the slightly tremulous eyelids came
-down and veiled them, or that he turned away his head?
-And why this strain of pathos in a nature that seemed
-essentially joyous and glad and careless? Not only that,
-but in the several discussions with her father—occasionally
-becoming rather warm, indeed—Ronald had been invariably
-on the side of the landlord, as was naturally to be expected.
-He had insisted that the great bulk of the land given over
-to deer was of no possible use to any other living creature;
-he had maintained the right of the landlord to clear any
-portion of his property of sheep and forest it, if by so doing
-he could gain an increase of rental; he had even maintained
-the right of the landlord to eject non-paying tenants from
-holdings clearly not capable of supporting the ever-increasing
-families; and so forth. But was his feeling, after all,
-with the people—he himself being one of the people?
-His stout championship of the claims and privileges of
-Lord Ailine—that was not incompatible with a deeper
-sense of the cruelty of driving the poor people away from
-the land of their birth and the home of their childhood?
-His natural sentiment as a man was not to be overborne
-by the fact that he was officially a dependant on Lord
-Ailine? These and a good many other curious problems
-concerning him—and concerning his possible future—occupied
-her until she had got back to the snug little
-parlour; and there, as she found her father seated in front
-of the blazing fire, and engaged in getting through the
-mighty pile of newspapers and illustrated journals and
-magazines that had come by the previous day's mail, she
-thought she might as well sit down and write a long letter to
-her bosom friend in Chicago, through whose intermediation
-these verses might discreetly be brought to the notice of
-Mr. Huysen. She had reasons for not asking any favour directly.
-
-'DEAREST EM,' she wrote—after having studied a long
-while as to how she should begin—'would it surprise you
-to know that I have at last found my *fate* in the very
-handsome person of a Scotch gamekeeper? Well, it aint
-so; don't break the furniture; but the fact is my poor
-brain has been wool-gathering a little in this land of wild
-storms and legends and romantic ballads; and to-morrow I
-am fleeing away to Paris—the region of clear atmosphere,
-and reasonable people, and cynicism; and I hope to have
-any lingering cobwebs of romance completely blown out of
-my head. Not that I would call it romance, *even if it
-were to happen;* I should call it merely the plain result of
-my father's theories. You know he is always preaching
-that all men are born equal; which isn't true anyhow; he
-would get a little nearer the truth if he were to say that
-all men are born equal except hotel clerks, who are of a
-superior race; but wouldn't it be a joke if I were to take
-him at his word, and ask him how he would like a gamekeeper
-as his son-in-law? But you need not be afraid, my
-dear Em; this chipmunk has still got a little of her senses
-left; and I may say in the words of the poet—
-
- | "There is not in this wide world a valet so sweet"—
-
-no, nor any Claude Melnotte of a gardener, nor any
-handsome coachman or groom, who could induce me to
-run away with him. It would be "playing it too low down
-on pa," as you used to say; besides, one knows how these
-things always end. Another besides; how do I know that
-he would marry me, even if I asked him?—and I *should*
-have to ask him, for he would never ask me. Now, Em,
-if you don't burn this letter the moment you have read it,
-I will murder you, as sure as you are alive.
-
-'Besides, it is a shame. He is a real good fellow; and
-no such nonsense has got into his head, I know. I know
-it, because I tried him twice for fun; I got him to tie my
-cap under my chin; and I made him take my pocket-handkerchief
-out of my breast-pocket when I was fighting
-a salmon (I caught *five in one day*—monsters!), and do you
-think the bashful young gentleman was embarrassed and
-showed trembling fingers? Not a bit; I think he thought
-me rather a nuisance—in the polite phraseology of the
-English people. But I wish I could tell you about him,
-really. It's all very well to say he is very handsome and
-hardy-looking and weather-tanned; but how can I describe
-to you how respectful his manner is, and yet always keeping
-his own self-respect, and he won't quarrel with me—he
-only laughs when I have been talking absolute folly—though
-papa and he have rare fights, for he has very
-positive opinions, and sticks to his guns, I can tell you.
-But the astonishing thing is his education; he has been
-nowhere, but seems to know everything; he seems to be
-quite content to be a gamekeeper, though his brother took
-his degree at college and is now in the Scotch Church. I
-tell you he makes me feel pretty small at times. The
-other night papa and I went along to his cottage after
-dinner, and found him reading Gibbon's *Decline and Fall
-of the Roman Empire*—lent him by his brother, it
-appeared. I borrowed the first volume—but, oh, squawks! it
-is a good deal too stiff work for the likes of me. And
-then there is never the least pretence or show, but all the
-other way; he will talk to you as long as you like about
-his deerstalking and about what he has seen his dogs do;
-but never a word about books or writing—unless you
-happen to have found out.
-
-'Now I'm coming to business. I have never seen any
-writing of his until this morning, when, after long goading,
-he showed me a little poem which I will copy out and
-enclose in this letter when I have finished. Now, darling
-Em, I want you to do me a real kindness; the first time
-you see Jack Huysen—I don't want to ask the favour of him
-direct—will you ask him to print it in the *Citizen*, and to
-say something nice about it? I don't want any patronage:
-understand—I mean let Jack Huysen understand—that
-Ronald Strang is a particular *friend* of both my father and
-myself; and that I am sending you this without his authority,
-but merely to give him a little pleasant surprise, perhaps,
-when he sees it in print; and perhaps to tempt him to
-give us some more. I should like him to print a volume,—for
-he is really far above his present station, and it is
-absurd he should not take his *place*,—and if he did that I
-know of a young party who would buy 500 copies even if
-she were to go back home without a single Paris bonnet.
-Tell Jack Huysen there is to be *no patronage*, mind; there
-is to be nothing about the peasant poet, or anything like
-that; for this man is a *gentleman*, if I know anything about
-it; and I won't have him trotted out as a phenomenon—to
-be discussed by the dudes who smoke cigarettes in
-Lincoln Park. If you could only talk to him for ten
-minutes it would be better than fifty letters, but I suppose
-there are *attractions nearer home* just at present. My kind
-remembrances to T.T.
-
-'I forgot to say that I am quite ignorant as to whether
-newspapers ever pay for poetry—I mean if a number of
-pieces were sent? Or could Jack Huysen find a publisher
-who would undertake a volume; my father will see he does
-not lose anything by it. I really want to do something for
-this Ronald, for he has been so kind and attentive to us;
-and before long it may become more difficult to do so; for
-of course a man of his abilities is not likely to remain as he
-is; indeed, he has already formed plans for getting away
-altogether from his present way of life, and whatever he
-tries to do I know he will do—and easily. But if I talk
-any more about him, you will be making very *very* mistaken
-guesses; and I won't give you the delight of imagining even
-for a moment that I have been caught at last; when the
-sad event arrives there will be time enough for you to take
-your cake-walk of triumph up and down the room—of
-course to *Dancing in the Barn*, as in the days of old.'
-
-Here followed a long and rambling chronicle of her
-travels in Europe since her last letter, all of which may be
-omitted; the only point to be remarked was that her very
-brief experiences of Scotland took up a disproportionately
-large portion of the space, and that she was minute in her
-description of the incidents and excitement of salmon-fishing.
-Then followed an outline of her present plans; a string of
-questions; a request for an instant reply; and finally—
-
-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line
-
- *'With dearest love, old Em,*
- *'Thine,*
- *'Carry.'*
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-And then she had to copy the verses; but when she had
-done that, and risen, and gone to the window for a time,
-some misgiving seemed to enter her mind, for she returned
-to the table, and sate down again, and wrote this postscript:
-
-'Perhaps, after all, you won't see much in this little
-piece; if you were here, among the very places, and affected
-by all the old stories and romantic traditions and the wild
-scenery, it might be different. Since I've been to Europe
-I've come to see what's the trouble about our reading
-English history and literature at home; why, you can't do
-it, you can't understand it, unless you have lived in an
-atmosphere that is just full of poetry and romance, and
-meeting people whose names tell you they belong to the
-families who did great things in history centuries and
-centuries ago. I can't explain it very well—not even to
-myself; but I feel it; why, you can't take a single day's
-drive in England without coming across a hundred things
-of interest—Norman churches, and the tombs of Saxon
-Kings, and old abbeys, and monasteries, and battlefields,
-and, just as interesting as any, farm-houses of the sixteenth
-century in their quaint old-fashioned orchards. And as for
-Scotland, why, it is just steeped to the lips in poetry and
-tradition; the hills and the glens have all their romantic
-stories of the clans, many of them very pathetic; and you
-want to see these wild and lonely places before you can
-understand the legends. And in southern Scotland too—what
-could any one at home make of such a simple couplet
-as this—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | "The King sits in Dunfermline town,
- | Drinking the blude-red wine;"
-
-but when you come near Dunfermline and see the hill
-where Malcolm Canmore built his castle in the eleventh
-century, and when you are told that it was from this very
-town that Sir Patrick Spens and the Scots lords set out for
-"Norroway o'er the faem," everything comes nearer to you.
-In America, I remember very well, Flodden Field sounded
-to us something very far away, that we couldn't take much
-interest in; but if you were here just now, dear Em, and
-told that a bit farther north there was a river that the Earl
-of Caithness and his clan had to cross when they went to
-Flodden, and that the people living there at this very day
-won't go near it on the anniversary of the battle, because
-on that day the ghosts of the earl and his men, all clad in
-green tartan, come home again and are seen to cross the
-river, wouldn't that interest you? In America we have got
-nothing behind us; when you leave the day before yesterday
-you don't want to go back. But here, in the most
-vulgar superstitions and customs, you come upon the
-strangest things. Would you believe it, less than twenty
-miles from this place there is a little lake that is supposed
-to cure the most desperate diseases—diseases that the
-doctors have given up; and the poor people meet at
-midnight, on the first Monday after the change of the moon,
-and then they throw a piece of money into the lake, and go
-in and dip themselves three times, and then they must get
-home before sunrise. Perhaps it is very absurd, but they
-belong to that same imaginative race of people who have
-left so many weird stories and poetical legends behind them;
-and what I say is that you want to come over and breathe
-this atmosphere of tradition and romance, and see the
-places, before you can quite understand the charm of all
-that kind of literature. And perhaps you don't find much
-in these verses about the poor people who have been driven
-away from their native strath? Well, they don't claim to
-be much. They were never meant for you to see. But
-yes, I do think you will like them; and anyhow Jack
-Huysen has got to like them, and treat them hospitably,
-unless he is anxious to have his hair raised.
-
-'Gracious me, I think I must hire a hall. I have just
-read this scrawl over. Sounds rather muzzy, don't it?
-But it's this poor brain of mine that has got full of
-confusion and cobwebs and theories of equality, when I wasn't
-attending to it. My arms had the whole day's work to
-do—as they remind me at this minute; and the Cerebral
-Hemispheres laid their heads, or their half-heads together,
-when I was busy with the salmon; and entered into a
-conspiracy against me; and began to make pictures—ghosts,
-phantom earls, and romantic shepherds and peasant-poets,
-and I don't know what kind of dreams of a deer
-stalker walking down Wabash Avenue. But, as I said,
-to-morrow I start for Paris, thank goodness; and in that
-calmer atmosphere I hope to come to my senses again;
-and I will send you a long account of Lily Selden's
-marriage—though your last letter to me was a fraud: what do I
-care about the C.M.C.A.? *This* letter, anyhow, you
-must burn; I don't feel like reading it over again myself,
-or perhaps I would save you the trouble; but you may
-depend on it that the one I shall send you from Paris will
-be quite sane.
-
-'Second P.S.—Of course you must manage Jack Huysen
-with a little discretion. I don't want to be drawn into it
-any more than I can help; I mean, I would just hate to
-write to him direct and ask him for a particular favour;
-but this is a very little one, and you know him as well as
-any of us. And mind you burn this letter—instantly—the
-moment you have read it—for it is just full of nonsense
-and wool-gathering; and *it will not occur again. Toujours
-a toi*. C.H.'
-
-'What have you been writing all this time?' her father
-said, when she rose.
-
-'A letter—to Emma Kerfoot.'
-
-'It will make her stare. You don't often write long letters.'
-
-'I do not,' said she, gravely regarding the envelope;
-and then she added solemnly: 'But this is the record of
-a chapter in my life that is now closed for ever—at least, I
-hope so.'
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`HESITATIONS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER III.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- HESITATIONS.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The waggonette stood at the door; Miss Carry's luggage
-was put in; and her father was waiting to see her off. But
-the young lady herself seemed unwilling to take the final
-step; twice she went back into the inn, on some pretence
-or another; and each time she came out she looked impatiently
-around, as if wondering at the absence of some one.
-
-'Well, ain't you ready yet?' her father asked.
-
-'I want to say good-bye to Ronald,' she said half angrily.
-
-'Oh, nonsense—you are not going to America. Why,
-you will be back in ten days or a fortnight. See here,
-Carry,' he added, 'are you sure you don't want me to go
-part of the way with you?'
-
-'Not at all,' she said promptly. 'It is impossible for
-Mary to mistake the directions I wrote to her; and I shall
-find her in the Station Hotel at Inverness all right. Don't
-you worry about me, pappa.'
-
-She glanced along the road again, in the direction of
-the keeper's cottage; but there was no one in sight.
-
-'Pappa dear,' she said, in an undertone—for there were
-one or two onlookers standing by—'if Ronald should
-decide on giving up his place here, and trying what you
-suggested, you'll have to stand by him.'
-
-'Oh yes, I'll see him through,' was the complacent
-answer. 'I should take him to be the sort of man who
-can look after himself; but if he wants any kind of help—well,
-here I am; I won't go back on a man who is acting on
-my advice. Why, if he were to come out to Chicago——'
-
-'Oh no, not Chicago, pappa,' she said, somewhat earnestly,
-'not to Chicago. I am sure he will be more at home—he
-will be happier—in his own country.'
-
-She looked around once more; and then she stepped
-into the waggonette.
-
-'He might have come to see me off,' she said, a little
-proudly. 'Good-bye, pappa dear—I will send you a
-telegram as soon as I get to Paris.'
-
-The two horses sprang forward; Miss Carry waved her
-lily hand; and then set to work to make herself comfortable
-with wraps and rugs, for the morning was chill. She
-thought it was very unfriendly of Ronald not to have come
-to say good-bye. And what was the reason of it? Of
-course he could know nothing of the nonsense she had
-written to her friend in Chicago.
-
-'Have you not seen Ronald about anywhere?' she asked
-of the driver.
-
-'No, mem,' answered that exceedingly shy youth, 'he
-wass not about all the morning. But I heard the crack of
-a gun; maybe he wass on the hill.'
-
-And presently he said—
-
-'I'm thinking that's him along the road—it's two of his
-dogs whatever.'
-
-And indeed this did turn out to be Ronald who was coming
-striding along the road, with his gun over his shoulder,
-a brace of setters at his heels, and something dangling from
-his left hand. The driver pulled up his horses.
-
-'I've brought ye two or three golden plover to take with
-ye, Miss Hodson,' Ronald said—and he handed up the birds.
-
-Well, she was exceedingly pleased to find that he had
-not neglected her, nay, that he had been especially thinking
-of her and her departure. But what should she do with
-these birds in a hotel?
-
-'It's so kind of you,' she said, 'but really I'm afraid
-they're—would you not rather give them to my father?'
-
-'Ye must not go away empty-handed,' said he, with
-good-humoured insistence; and then it swiftly occurred to
-her that perhaps this was some custom of the neighbourhood;
-and so she accepted the little parting gift with a
-very pretty speech of thanks.
-
-He raised his cap, and was going on.
-
-'Ronald,' she called, and he turned.
-
-'I wish you would tell me,' she said—and there was a
-little touch of colour in the pretty, pale, interesting
-face—'if there is anything I could bring from London that would
-help you—I mean books about chemistry—or—or—about
-trees—or instruments for land-surveying—I am sure I
-could get them——'
-
-He laughed, in a doubtful kind of a way.
-
-'I'm obliged to ye,' he said, 'but it's too soon to speak
-about that. I havena made up my mind yet.'
-
-'Not yet?'
-
-'No.'
-
-'But you will?'
-
-He said nothing.
-
-'Good-bye, then.'
-
-She held out her hand, so that he could not refuse to
-take it. So they parted; and the horses' hoofs rang again
-in the silence of the valley; and she sat looking after the
-disappearing figure and the meekly following dogs. And
-then, in the distance, she thought she could make out
-some faint sound: was he singing to himself as he strode
-along towards the little hamlet?
-
-'At all events,' she said to herself, with just a touch of
-pique, 'he does not seem much downhearted at my going
-away.' And little indeed did she imagine that this song
-he was thus carelessly and unthinkingly singing was all
-about Meenie, and red and white roses, and trifles light
-and joyous as the summer air. For not yet had black care
-got a grip of his heart.
-
-But this departure of Miss Carry for the south now gave
-him leisure to attend to his own affairs and proper duties,
-which had suffered somewhat from his attendance in the
-coble; and it was not until all these were put straight
-that he addressed himself to the serious consideration of
-the ambitious and daring project that had been placed
-before him. Hitherto it had been pretty much of an idle
-speculation—a dream, in short, that looked very charming
-and fascinating as the black-eyed young lady from over the
-seas sate in the stern of the boat and chatted through the
-idle hours. Her imagination did not stay to regard the
-immediate and practical difficulties and risks; all these
-seemed already surmounted; Ronald had assumed the
-position to which he was entitled by his abilities and
-personal character; she only wondered which part of Scotland
-he would be living in when next her father and herself
-visited Europe; and whether they might induce him to go
-over with them for a while to the States. But when Ronald
-himself, in cold blood, came to consider ways and means,
-there was no such plain and easy sailing. Not that he
-hesitated about cutting himself adrift from his present moorings;
-he had plenty of confidence in himself, and knew that he
-could always earn a living with his ten fingers, whatever
-happened. Then he had between £80 and £90 lodged
-in a savings bank in Inverness; and out of that he could
-pay for any classes he might have to attend, or perhaps
-offer a modest premium if he wished to get into a surveyor's
-office for a short time. But there were so many things to
-think of. What should he do about Maggie, for example?
-Then Lord Ailine had always been a good master to
-him: would it not seem ungrateful that he should throw
-up his situation without apparent reason? And so forth,
-and so forth, through cogitations long and anxious; and
-many a half-hour on the hillside and many a half-hour by
-the slumbering peat-fire was given to this great project;
-but always there was one side of the question that he shut
-out from his mind. For how could he admit to himself
-that this lingering hesitation—this dread, almost, of what
-lay await for him in the future—had anything to do with
-the going away from Meenie, and the leaving behind him,
-and perhaps for ever, the hills and streams and lonely glens
-that were all steeped in the magic and witchery of her
-presence? Was it not time to be done with idle fancies?
-And if, in the great city—in Edinburgh or Glasgow, as the
-case might be—he should fall to thinking of Ben Loyal
-and Bonnie Strath-Naver, and the long, long days on
-Clebrig; and Meenie coming home in the evening from
-her wanderings by Mudal-Water, with a few wild-flowers,
-perhaps, or a bit of white heather, but always with her
-beautiful blue-gray Highland eyes so full of kindness as
-she stopped for a few minutes' friendly chatting—well, that
-would be a pretty picture to look back upon, all lambent
-and clear in the tender colours that memory loves to
-use. A silent picture, of course: there would be no
-sound of the summer rills, nor the sweeter sound of
-Meenie's voice; but not a sad picture; only remote and
-ethereal, as if the years had come between, and made
-everything distant and pale and dreamlike.
-
-The first definite thing that he did was to write to his
-brother in Glasgow, acquainting him with his plans, and
-begging him to obtain some further particulars about the
-Highland and Agricultural Society's certificates. The
-answer that came back from Glasgow was most encouraging;
-for the Rev. Alexander Strang, though outwardly a
-heavy and lethargic man, had a shrewd head enough, and
-was an enterprising shifty person, not a little proud of the
-position that he had won for himself, and rather inclined
-to conceal from his circle of friends—who were mostly
-members of his congregation—the fact that his brother was
-merely a gamekeeper in the Highlands. Nay, more, he
-was willing to assist; he would take Maggie into his house,
-so that there might be no difficulty in that direction; and
-in the meantime he would see what were the best
-class-books on the subjects named, so that Ronald might be
-working away at them in these comparatively idle spring
-and summer months, and need not give up his situation
-prematurely. There was even some hint thrown out that
-perhaps Ronald might board with his brother; but this was
-not pressed; for the fact was that Mrs. Alexander was a
-severely rigid disciplinarian, and on the few occasions on
-which Ronald had been their guest she had given both
-brothers to understand that the frivolous gaiety of Ronald's
-talk, and the independence of his manners, and his Gallio-like
-indifference about the fierce schisms and heart-burnings
-in the Scotch Church were not, in her opinion, in
-consonance with the atmosphere that ought to prevail in a Free
-Church minister's house. But on the whole the letter was
-very friendly and hopeful; and Ronald was enjoined to let
-his brother know when his decision should be finally taken,
-and in what way assistance could be rendered him.
-
-One night the little Maggie stole away through the dark
-to the Doctor's cottage. There was a light in the window
-of Meenie's room; she could hear the sound of the piano;
-no doubt Meenie was practising and alone; and on such
-occasions a visit from Maggie was but little interruption.
-And so the smaller girl went boldly towards the house and
-gained admission, and was proceeding upstairs without any
-ceremony, when the sudden cessation of the music caused
-her to stop. And then she heard a very simple and pathetic
-air begin—just touched here and there with a few chords:
-and was Meenie, tired with the hard work of the practising,
-allowing herself this little bit of quiet relaxation? She was
-singing too—though so gently that Maggie could scarcely
-make out the words. But she knew the song—had not
-Meenie sung it many times before to her?—and who but
-Meenie could put such tenderness and pathos into the simple
-air? She had almost to imagine the words—so gentle was
-the voice that went with those lightly-touched chords—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'The sun rase sae rosy, the gray hills adorning,
- | Light sprang the laverock, and mounted on hie,
- | When true to the tryst o' blythe May's dewy morning,
- | Jeanie cam' linking out owre the green lea.
- | To mark her impatience I crap 'mong the brackens,
- | Aft, aft to the kent gate she turned her black e'e;
- | Then lying down dowilie, sighed, by the willow tree,
- | "I am asleep, do not waken me."'[#]
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent small
-
-[#] 'I am asleep, do not waken me' is the English equivalent of the
-Gaelic name of the air, which is a very old one, and equally pathetic
-in its Irish and Highland versions.
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-Then there was silence. The little Maggie waited; for
-this song was a great favourite with Ronald, who himself
-sometimes attempted it; and she would be able to tell him
-when she got home that she had heard Meenie sing it—and
-he always listened with interest to anything, even the smallest
-particulars, she could tell him about Meenie and about what
-she had done or said. But where were the other verses?
-She waited and listened; the silence was unbroken. And
-so she tapped lightly at the door and entered.
-
-And then something strange happened. For when
-Maggie shut the door behind her and went forward, Meenie
-did not at once turn her head to see who this was, but had
-hastily whipped out her handkerchief and passed it over her
-eyes. And when she did turn, it was with a kind of look
-of bravery—as if to dare any one to say that she had been
-crying—though there were traces of tears on her cheeks.
-
-'Is it you, Maggie? I am glad to see you,' she managed
-to say.
-
-The younger girl was rather frightened and sorely concerned
-as well.
-
-'But what is it, Meenie dear?' she said, going and taking
-her hand. 'Are you in trouble?'
-
-'No, no,' her friend said, with an effort to appear quite
-cheerful, 'I was thinking of many things—I scarcely know
-what. And now take off your things and sit down, Maggie,
-and tell me all about this great news. It was only this
-afternoon that my father learnt that you and your brother
-were going away; and he would not believe it at first, till
-he saw Ronald himself. And it is true, after all? Dear
-me, what a change there will be!'
-
-She spoke quite in her usual manner now; and her lips
-were no longer trembling, but smiling; and the Highland
-eyes were clear, and as full of kindness as ever.
-
-'But it is a long way off, Meenie,' the smaller girl
-began to explain quickly, when she had taken her seat by
-the fire, 'and Ronald is so anxious to please everybody,
-and—and that is why I came along to ask you what you
-think best.'
-
-'I?' said Meenie, with a sudden slight touch of reserve.
-
-'It'll not be a nice thing going away among strange folk,'
-said her companion, 'but I'll no grumble if it's to do Ronald
-good; and even among strange folk—well, I don't care as
-long as I have Ronald and you, Meenie. And it's to
-Glasgow, and not to Edinburgh, he thinks he'll have to go;
-and then you will be in Glasgow too; so I do not mind
-anything else. It will not be so lonely for any of us; and
-we can spend the evenings together—oh no, it will not be
-lonely at all——'
-
-'But, Maggie,' the elder girl said gravely, 'I am not
-going to Glasgow.'
-
-Her companion looked up quickly, with frightened eyes.
-
-'But you said you were going, Meenie!'
-
-'Oh no,' the other said gently. 'My mother has often
-talked of it—and I suppose I may have to go some time;
-but my father is against it; and I know I am not going at
-present anyway.'
-
-'And you are staying here—and—and Ronald and me—we
-will be by ourselves in Glasgow!' the other exclaimed,
-as if this prospect were too terrible to be quite
-comprehended as yet.
-
-'But if it is needful he should go?' Meenie said.
-'People have often to part from their friends like that.'
-
-'Yes, and it's no much matter when they have plenty
-of friends,' said the smaller girl, with her eyes becoming
-moist, 'but, Meenie, I havena got one but you.'
-
-'Oh no, you must not say that,' her friend remonstrated.
-'Why, there is your brother in Glasgow, and his family; I
-am sure they will be kind to you. And Ronald will make
-plenty of friends wherever he goes—you can see that for
-yourself; and do you think you will be lonely in a great
-town like Glasgow? It is the very place to make friends,
-and plenty of them—
-
-'Oh, I don't know what to do—I don't know what to
-do, if you are not going to Glasgow, Meenie!' she broke
-in. 'I wonder if it was that that Ronald meant. He
-asked me whether I would like to stay here or go with
-him, for Mrs. Murray has offered to take me in, and I
-would have to help at keeping the books, and that is very
-kind of them, I am sure, for I did not think I could be of
-any use to anybody. And you are to be here in
-Inver-Mudal—and Ronald away in Glasgow——'
-
-Well, it was a bewildering thing. These were the two
-people she cared for most of all in the world; and virtually
-she was called upon to choose between them. And if she
-had a greater loyalty and reverence towards her brother,
-still, Meenie was her sole girl-friend, and monitress, and
-counsellor. What would her tasks be without Meenie's
-approval; how could she get on with her knitting and
-sewing without Meenie's aid; what would the days be like
-without the witchery of Meenie's companionship—even if
-that were limited to a passing word or a smile? Ronald had
-not sought to influence her choice; indeed, the alternative
-had scarcely been considered, for she believed that Meenie
-was going to Glasgow also; and with her hero brother and
-her beautiful girl-friend both there, what more could she
-wish for in the world? But now—-?
-
-Well, Meenie, in her wise and kind way, strove to calm
-the anxiety of the girl; and her advice was altogether in
-favour of Maggie's going to Glasgow with her brother
-Ronald, if that were equally convenient to him, and of no
-greater expense than her remaining in Inver-Mudal with
-Mrs. Murray.
-
-'For you know he wants somebody to look after him,'
-Meenie continued, with her eyes rather averted, 'and if it
-does not matter so much here about his carelessness of
-being wet and cold, because he has plenty of health and
-exercise, it will be very different in Glasgow, where there
-should be some one to bid him be more careful.'
-
-'But he pays no heed to me,' the little sister sighed,
-'unless I can tell him you have been saying so-and-so—then
-he listens. He is very strange. He has never once
-worn the blue jersey that I knitted for him. He asked me
-a lot of questions about how it was begun; and I told him
-as little as I could about the help you had given me,' she
-continued evasively, 'and when the snow came on, I thought
-he would wear it; but no—he put it away in the drawer
-with his best clothes, and it's lying there all neatly folded
-up—and what is the use of that? If you were going to
-Glasgow, Meenie, it would be quite different. It will be
-very lonely there.'
-
-'Lonely!' the other exclaimed; 'with your brother
-Ronald, and your other brother's family, and all their friends.
-And then you will be able to go to school and have more
-regular teaching—Ronald spoke once or twice to me about that.'
-
-'Yes, indeed,' the little Maggie said; but the prospect
-did not cheer her much; and for some minutes they both
-sate silent, she staring into the fire. And then she said
-bitterly—
-
-'I wish the American people had never come here. It
-is all their doing. It never would have come into Ronald's
-head to leave Inver-Mudal but for them. And where else
-will he be so well known—and—and every one speaking
-well of him—and every one so friendly——'
-
-'But, Maggie, these things are always happening,' her
-companion remonstrated. 'Look at the changes my father
-has had to make.'
-
-'And I wonder if we are never to come back to Inver-Mudal,
-Meenie?' the girl said suddenly, with appealing eyes.
-
-Meenie tried to laugh, and said—
-
-'Who can tell? It is the way of the world for people
-to come and go. And Glasgow is a big place—perhaps
-you would not care to come back after having made plenty
-of friends there.'
-
-'My friends will always be here, and nowhere else,' the
-smaller girl said, with emphasis. 'Oh, Meenie, do you
-think if Ronald were to get on well and make more money
-than he has now, he would come back here, and bring me
-too, for a week maybe, just to see every one again?'
-
-'I cannot tell you that, Maggie,' the elder girl said, rather
-absently.
-
-After this their discussion of the strange and unknown
-future that lay before them languished somehow; for Meenie
-seemed preoccupied, and scarcely as blithe and hopeful as she
-had striven to appear. But when Maggie rose to return
-home—saying that it was time for her to be looking after Ronald's
-supper—her friend seemed to pull herself together somewhat,
-and at once and cheerfully accepted Maggie's invitation
-to come and have tea with her the following afternoon.
-
-'For you have been so little in to see us lately,' the
-small Maggie said; 'and Ronald always engaged with the
-American people—and often in the evening too as well as
-the whole day long.'
-
-'But I must make a great deal of you now that you are
-going away,' said Miss Douglas, smiling.
-
-'And Ronald—will I ask him to stay in till you come?'
-
-But here there was some hesitation.
-
-'Oh no, I would not do that—no doubt he is busy just
-now with his preparations for going away. I would not say
-anything to him—you and I will have tea together by
-ourselves.'
-
-The smaller girl looked up timidly.
-
-'Ronald is going away too, Meenie.'
-
-Perhaps there was a touch of reproach in the tone; at
-all events Meenie said, after a moment's embarrassment—
-
-'Of course I should be very glad if he happened to be
-in the house—and—and had the time to spare; but I think
-he will understand that, Maggie, without your saying as
-much to him.'
-
-'He gave plenty of his time to the American young
-lady,' said Maggie, rather proudly.
-
-'But I thought you and she were great friends,' Meenie
-said, in some surprise.
-
-'It takes a longer time than that to make friends,' the
-girl said; and by and by she left.
-
-Then Meenie went up to her room again, and sate down
-in front of the dull, smouldering peat-fire, with its heavy
-lumps of shadow, and its keen edges of crimson, and its
-occasional flare of flame and shower of sparks. There were
-many pictures there—of distant things; of the coming
-spring-time, with all the new wonder and gladness somehow
-gone out of it; and of the long long shining summer days,
-and Inver-Mudal grown lonely: and of the busy autumn
-time, with the English people come from the south, and no
-Ronald there, to manage everything for them. For her
-heart was very affectionate; and she had but few friends;
-and Glasgow was a great distance away. There were some
-other fancies too, and self-questionings and perhaps even
-self-reproaches, that need not be mentioned here. When,
-by and by, she rose and went to the piano, which was still
-open, it was not to resume her seat. She stood absently
-staring at the keys—for these strange pictures followed her;
-and indeed that one half-unconscious trial of '*I am asleep,
-do not waken me*' had been quite enough for her in her
-present mood.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`'AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS'`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER IV.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- 'AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS.'
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Yes; it soon became clear that Meenie Douglas, in view
-of this forthcoming departure, had resolved to forego
-something of the too obvious reserve she had recently imposed
-on herself—if, indeed, that maidenly shrinking and shyness
-had not been rather a matter of instinct than of will. When
-Ronald came home on the following evening she was seated
-with Maggie in the old familiar way at a table plentifully
-littered with books, patterns, and knitting; and when she
-shook hands with him, her timidly uplifted eyes had much
-of the old friendliness in them, and her smile of welcome
-was pleasant to see. It was he who was diffident and
-very respectful. For if her mother had enjoined her to
-be a little more distant in manner towards this one or
-the other of those around her—well, that was quite intelligible;
-that was quite right; and he could not complain;
-but on the other hand, if the girl herself, in this very small
-domestic circle, seemed rather anxious to put aside those
-barriers which were necessary out of doors, he would not
-presume on her good-nature. And yet—and yet—he could
-not help thawing a little; for she was very kind, and even
-merry withal; and her eyes were like the eyes of the
-Meenie of old.
-
-'I am sure Maggie will be glad to get away from Inver-Mudal,'
-she was saying, 'for she will not find anywhere a
-schoolmistress as hard as I have been. But maybe she
-will not have to go to school at all, if she has to keep house
-for you?'
-
-'But she'll no have to keep house for me,' Ronald said
-at once. 'If she goes to Glasgow, she'll be much better
-with my brother's family, for that will be a home for her.'
-
-'And where will you go, Ronald?' she said.
-
-'Oh, into a lodging—I can fend for myself.'
-
-At this she looked grave—nay, she did not care to conceal
-her disapproval. For had she not been instructing Maggie
-in the mysteries of housekeeping in a town—as far as these
-were known to herself: and had not the little girl showed
-great courage; and declared there was nothing she would not
-attempt rather than be separated from her brother Ronald?
-
-'It would never do,' said he, 'to leave the lass alone in
-the house all day in a big town. It's very well here, where
-she has neighbours and people to look after her from time
-to time; but among strangers——'
-
-Then he looked at the table.
-
-'But where's the tea ye said ye would ask Miss Douglas
-in to?'
-
-'We were so busy with the Glasgow housekeeping,'
-Meenie said, laughing, 'that we forgot all about it.'
-
-'I'll go and get it ready now,' the little Maggie said,
-and she went from the room, leaving these two alone.
-
-He was a little embarrassed; and she was also. There
-had been no *amantium irae* of any kind; but all the same
-the *integratio amoris* was just a trifle difficult; for she on
-her side was anxious to have their old relations re-established
-during the brief period that would elapse ere he left the
-neighbourhood, and yet she was hesitating and uncertain;
-while he on his side maintained a strictly respectful
-reserve. He 'knew his place;' his respect towards
-her was part of his own self-respect; and if it did not
-occur to him that it was rather hard upon Meenie that
-all the advances towards a complete rehabilitation of their
-friendship should come from her, that was because he did
-not know that she was moved by any such wish, and also
-because he was completely ignorant of a good deal else
-that had happened of late. Of course, certain things were
-obvious enough. Clearly the half-frightened, distant, and
-yet regretful look with which she had recently met and
-parted from him when by chance they passed each other
-in the road was no longer in her eyes; there was a kind of
-appeal for friendliness in her manner towards him; she
-seemed to say, 'Well, you are going away; don't let us
-forget the old terms on which we used to meet.' And not
-only did he quickly respond to that feeling, but also he was
-abundantly grateful to her; did not he wish to carry away
-with him the pleasantest memories of this beautiful,
-sweet-natured friend, who had made all the world magical to him
-for a while, who had shown him the grace and dignity and
-honour of true womanhood, and made him wonder no less
-at the charm of her clear-shining simplicity and naturalness?
-The very name of 'Love Meenie' would be as the scent of
-a rose—as the song of a lark—for him through all the long
-coming years.
-
-'It will make a great change about here,' said she, with
-her eyes averted, 'your going away.'
-
-'There's no one missed for long,' he answered, in his
-downright fashion. 'Where people go, people come; the
-places get filled up.'
-
-'Yes, but sometimes they are not quite the same,' said
-she rather gently. She was thinking of the newcomer.
-Would he be the universal favourite that Ronald was—always
-good-natured and laughing, but managing everybody
-and everything; lending a hand at the sheep-shearing or
-playing the pipes at a wedding—anything to keep life
-moving along briskly; and always ready to give her father
-a day's hare-shooting or a turn at the pools of Mudal-Water
-when the spates began to clear? She knew quite well—for
-often had she heard it spoken of—that no one could
-get on as well as Ronald with the shepherds at the time of
-the heather-burning: when on the other moors the shepherds
-and keepers were growling and quarrelling like rival
-leashes of collies, on Lord Ailine's ground everything was
-peace and quietness and good humour. And then she had
-a vague impression that the next keeper would be merely
-a keeper; whereas Ronald was—Ronald.
-
-'I'm sure I was half ashamed,' said he, 'when I got his
-lordship's letter. It was as fair an offer as one man could
-make to another; or rather, half a dozen offers; for he
-said he would raise my wage, if that was what was wrong;
-or he would let me have another lad to help me in the
-kennels; or, if I was tired of the Highlands he would get
-me a place at his shooting in the south. Well, I was sweirt
-to trouble his lordship with my small affairs; but after that
-I couldna but sit down and write to him the real reason
-of my leaving——'
-
-'And I'm certain,' said she quickly, 'that he will write
-back and offer you any help in his power.'
-
-'No, no,' said he, with a kind of laugh, 'the one letter
-is enough—if it ever comes to be a question of a written
-character. But it's just real friendly and civil of him; and
-if I could win up here for a week or a fortnight in August,
-I would like well to lend them a hand and set them going;
-for it will be a good year for the grouse, I'm thinking——'
-
-'Oh, will you be coming to see us in August?' she said,
-with her eyes suddenly and rather wistfully lighting up.
-
-'Well, I don't know how I may be situated,' said he.
-'And there's the railway expense—though I would not
-mind that much if I had the chance otherwise; for his
-lordship has been a good master to me; and I would just
-like to lend him a hand, and start the new man with the
-management of the dogs and the beats. That's one thing
-Lord Ailine will do for me, I hope: I hope he will let me
-have a word about the man that's coming in my place; I
-would not like to have a cantankerous ill-tempered brute
-of a fellow coming in to have charge of my dogs. They're
-the bonniest lot in Sutherlandshire.'
-
-All this was practical enough; and meanwhile she had
-set to work to clear the table, to make way for Maggie.
-When the young handmaiden appeared with the tea-things he
-left the room for a few minutes, and presently returned with
-a polecat-skin, carefully dressed and smoothed, in his hand.
-
-'Here's a bit thing,' said he, 'I wish ye would take, if
-it's of any use to you. Or if ye could tell me anything ye
-wished it made into, I could have that done when I go
-south. And if your mother would like one or two of the
-deer-skins, I'm sure she's welcome to them; they're useful
-about a house.'
-
-'Indeed, you are very kind, Ronald,' said she, flushing
-somewhat, 'and too kind, indeed—for you know that ever
-since we have known you all these kindnesses have always
-been on one side—and—and—we have never had a chance
-of doing anything in return for you——'
-
-'Oh, nonsense,' said he good-naturedly. 'Well, there
-is one thing your father could do for me—if he would take
-my gun, and my rifle, and rods and reels, and just keep
-them in good working order, that would be better than
-taking them to Glasgow and getting them spoiled with rust
-and want of use. I don't want to part with them altogether;
-for they're old friends; and I would like to have them left
-in safe keeping——
-
-She laughed lightly.
-
-'And that is your way of asking a favour—to offer my
-father the loan of all these things. Well, I am sure he will
-be very glad to take charge of them——'
-
-'And to use them,' said he, 'to use them; for that is
-the sure way of keeping them in order.'
-
-'But perhaps the new keeper may not be so friendly?'
-
-'Oh, I will take care about that,' said he confidently;
-'and in any case you know it was his lordship said your
-father might have a day on the Mudal-Water whenever he
-liked. And what do you think, now, about the little skin
-there?'
-
-'I think I will keep it as it is—just as you have given
-it to me,' she said simply.
-
-In due course they had tea together; but that afternoon
-or evening meal is a substantial affair in the north-cold
-beef, ham, scones, oatmeal cake, marmalade, jam, and
-similar things all making their appearance—and one not to
-be lightly hurried over. And Meenie was so much at
-home now; and there was so much to talk over; and she
-was so hopeful. Of course, Ronald must have holiday-times,
-like other people; and where would he spend these,
-if he did not come back to his old friends? And he would
-have such chances as no mere stranger could have, coming
-through on the mail-cart and asking everywhere for a little
-trout-fishing. Ronald would have a day or two's stalking
-from Lord Ailine; and there was the loch; and Mudal-Water;
-and if the gentlemen were after the grouse, would
-they not be glad to have an extra gun on the hill for a day
-or two, just to make up a bag for them?
-
-'And then,' said Meenie, with a smile, 'who knows but
-that Ronald may in time be able to have a shooting of his
-own? Stranger things have happened.'
-
-When tea was over and the things removed he lit
-his pipe, and the girls took to their knitting. And never,
-he thought, had Meenie looked so pretty and pleased and
-quickly responsive with her clear and happy eyes. He
-forgot all about Mrs. Douglas's forecast as to the future
-estate of her daughter; he forgot all about the Stuarts of
-Glengask and Orosay; this was the Meenie whom Mudal
-knew, whom Clebrig had charge of, who was the friend and
-companion of the birds and the wild-flowers and the summer
-streams. What a wonderful thing it was to see her small
-fingers so deftly at work; when she looked up the room
-seemed full of light and entrancement; her sweet low laugh
-found an echo in the very core of his heart. And they all
-of them, for this one happy evening, seemed to forget that
-soon there was to be an end. They were together; the
-world shut out; the old harmony re-established, or nearly
-re-established; and Meenie was listening to his reading of
-'the Eve of St. Agnes'—in the breathless hush of the little
-room—or she was praying, and in vain, for him to bring
-his pipes and play 'Lord Lovat's Lament,' or they were
-merely idly chatting and laughing, while the busy work of
-the fingers went on. And sometimes he sate quite silent,
-listening to the other two; and her voice seemed to fill the
-room with music; and he wondered whether he could carry
-away in his memory some accurate recollection of the
-peculiar, soft, rich tone, that made the simplest things
-sound valuable. It was a happy evening.
-
-But when she rose to go away she grew graver; and
-as she and Ronald went along the road together—it was
-very dark, though there were a few stars visible here and
-there—she said to him in rather a low voice—
-
-'Well, Ronald, the parting between friends is not very
-pleasant, but I am sure I hope it will all be for the best,
-now that you have made up your mind to it. And every
-one seems to think you will do well.'
-
-'Oh, as for that,' said he, 'that is all right. If the worst
-comes to the worst, there is always the Black Watch.'
-
-'What do you mean?'
-
-'Well, they're always sending the Forty-Second into the
-thick of it, no matter what part of the world the fighting is,
-so that a man has a good chance. I suppose I'm not too
-old to get enlisted; sometimes I wish I had thought of it
-when I was a lad—I don't know that I would like anything
-better than to be a sergeant in the Black Watch. And I'm
-sure I would serve three years for no pay at all if I could
-only get one single chance of winning the V.C. But it
-comes to few; it's like the big stag—it's there when ye least
-expect it; and a man's hand is not just always ready, and
-steady. But I'm sure ye needna bother about what's going
-to happen to me—that's of small account.'
-
-'It is of very great account to your friends, at all events,'
-said she valiantly, 'and you must not forget, when you are
-far enough away from here, that you have friends here who
-are thinking of you and always wishing you well. It will be
-easy for you to forget; you will have all kinds of things to
-do, and many people around you; but the others here may
-often think of you, and wish to hear from you. It is the
-one that goes away that has the best of it, I think—among
-the excitement of meeting strange scenes and strange
-faces——'
-
-'But I am not likely to forget,' said he, rather
-peremptorily; and they walked on in silence.
-
-Presently she said—
-
-'I have a little album that I wish you would write
-something in before you go away altogether.'
-
-'Oh yes, I will do that,' said he, 'and gladly.'
-
-'But I mean something of your own,' she said rather
-more timidly.
-
-'Why, but who told you—
-
-'Oh, every one knows, surely!' said she. 'And why
-should you conceal it? There were the verses that you
-wrote about Mrs. Semple's little girl—I saw them when I
-was at Tongue last—and indeed I think they are quite
-beautiful: will you write out a copy of them in my
-album?'
-
-'Or something else, perhaps,' said he—for instantly it
-flashed upon him that it was something better than a mere
-copy that was needed for Meenie's book. Here, indeed,
-was a chance. If there was any inspiration to be gained
-from these wild hills and straths and lonely lakes, now was
-the time for them to be propitious; would not Clebrig—the
-giant Clebrig—whose very child Meenie was—come to
-his aid, that so he might present to her some fragment of
-song or rhyme not unworthy to be added to her little
-treasury?
-
-'I will send for the book to-morrow,' said he.
-
-'I hope it will not give you too much trouble,' said she,
-as they reached the small gate, 'but it is very pleasant to
-turn over the leaves and see the actual writing of your
-friends, and think of when you last saw them and where
-they are now. And that seems to be the way with most of
-our friends; I suppose it is because we have moved about
-so; but there is scarcely any one left—and if it was not for
-a letter occasionally, or a dip into that album, I should
-think we were almost alone in the world. Well, good-night,
-Ronald—or will you come in and have a chat with my
-father?'
-
-'I am afraid it is rather late,' he said.
-
-'Well, good-night.'
-
-'Good-night, Miss Douglas,' said he, and then he walked
-slowly back to his home.
-
-And indeed he was in no mood to turn to the scientific
-volumes that had already arrived from Glasgow. His heart
-was all afire because of the renewal of Meenie's kindness;
-and the sound of her voice was still in his ears; and quite
-naturally he took out that blotting-pad full of songs and
-fragments of songs, to glance over them here and there, and
-see if amongst them there was any one likely to recall to him
-when he was far away from Inver-Mudal the subtle mystery
-and charm of her manner and look. And then he began
-to think what a stranger coming to Inver-Mudal would see
-in Meenie? Perhaps only the obvious things—the pretty
-oval of the cheek and chin, the beautiful proud mouth, the
-wide-apart contemplative eyes? And perhaps these would
-be sufficient to attract? He began to laugh with scorn at
-this stranger—who could only see these obvious things—who
-knew nothing about Meenie, and the sweetness of her
-ways, her shrewd common-sense and the frank courage and
-honour of her mind. And what if she were to turn coquette
-under the influence of this alien admiration? Or perhaps
-become sharply proud? Well, he set to work—out of a
-kind of whimsicality—and in time had scribbled out this—
-
-.. class:: italics center
-
- FLOWER AUCTION.
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | Who will buy pansies?
- | There are her eyes,
- | Dew-soft and tender,
- | Love in them lies.
- |
- | Who will buy roses?
- | There are her lips,
- | And there is the nectar
- | That Cupidon sips.
- |
- | Who will buy lilies?
- | There are her cheeks,
- | And there the shy blushing
- | That maidhood bespeaks.
- |
- | 'Meenie, Love Meenie,
- | What must one pay?'
- | 'Good stranger, the market's
- | Not open to-day!'
- |
-
-He looked at the verses again and again; and the longer
-he looked at them the less he liked them—he scarcely knew
-why. Perhaps they were a little too literary? They seemed
-to lack naturalness and simplicity; at all events, they were
-not true to Meenie; why should Meenie figure as a flippant
-coquette? And so he threw them away and turned to his
-books—not the scientific ones—to hunt out something that
-was like Meenie. He came near it in Tannahill, but was
-not quite satisfied. A verse or two in Keats held his fancy
-for a moment. But at last he found what he wanted in
-Wordsworth—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'A violet by a mossy stone
- | Half hidden from the eye;
- | —Fair as a star, when only one
- | Is shining in the sky.'
- |
-
-Yes; that was liker Meenie—who 'dwelt among the
-untrodden ways.'
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER V.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- A LESSON IN FLY-FISHING.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Miss Carry Hodson returned from Paris in a very radiant
-mood; she had had what she called a real good time, and
-everything connected with the wedding had gone off most
-successfully. Her dress, that she had ordered long before
-she came to the Highlands, was a perfect fit; Lily Selden
-made the most charming and beautiful of brides; and no
-less a person than a prince (rather swarthy, and hailing
-from some mysterious region east of the Carpathians)
-had proposed the health of the bridesmaids, and had
-made especial mention of the young ladies who had
-travelled long distances to be present on the auspicious
-occasion.
-
-However, on the morning after her return to Inver-Mudal
-her equanimity was somewhat dashed. When she went
-along the passage to the little hall—to see what the
-morning was like outside—she found waiting there a respectable-looking
-elderly Highlander, with grizzled locks, who touched
-his cap to her, and who had her waterproof over his arm.
-This last circumstance made her suspicious; instantly she
-went back to her father.
-
-'Who is that man?' she asked.
-
-'What man?'
-
-'Why, an old man, who is waiting there, and he has
-got my waterproof slung over his arm.'
-
-'Well, I suppose that is the new gillie.'
-
-'Isn't Ronald going down?' she said, with very evident
-disappointment.
-
-'Of course not,' her father said, with some sharpness.
-'I think you have taken up enough of his time. And just
-now, when he is getting ready to go away, do you think I
-could allow him to waste day after day in attending to us?
-Seems to me it would be more to the point if you put your
-small amount of brain into devising some means of squaring
-up with him for what he has done already.'
-
-'Oh, very well,' she said—or rather, what she did really
-say was 'Oh, vurry well'—and the pretty, pale, attractive
-face resumed its ordinary complacency, and she went off
-to make friends with the new gillie. She was on good
-terms with the old Highlander in about a couple of minutes;
-and presently they were on their way down to the loch,
-along with the lad John. Her father was to follow as soon
-as he had finished his letters.
-
-But she was now to discover, what she had never discovered
-before, that salmon-fishing on a loch is a rather
-monotonous affair, unless the fish are taking very freely
-indeed. For one thing, the weather had settled down
-into a fine, clear, spring-like calm and quiet that was not
-at all favourable to the sport. It was very beautiful, no
-doubt; for sometimes for hours together the lake would be
-like a sheet of glass—the yellow shores and purple
-birch-woods all accurately doubled, with nearer at hand the
-faint white reflections of the snow-peaks in the north
-stretching out into the soft and deep blue; and when a
-breath of wind, from some unexpected point of the
-compass, began to draw a sharp line of silver between earth
-and water, and then came slowly across the loch to them,
-ruffling out that magic inverted picture on its way, the
-breeze was deliciously fresh and balmy, and seemed to
-bring with it tidings of the secret life that was working
-forward to the leafiness of summer. They kept well out
-into the midst of this spacious circle of loveliness, for old
-Malcolm declared they would be doing more harm than
-good by going over the fishing-ground; so she had a
-sufficiently ample view of this great panorama of water and
-wood and far mountain-slopes. But it grew monotonous.
-She began to think of Paris, and the brisk, busy days—a
-hurry of gaiety and pleasure and interest using up every
-possible minute. She wished she had a book—some
-knitting—anything. Why, when Ronald was in the boat—with
-his quick sarcastic appreciation of every story she
-had to tell, or every experience she had to describe—there
-was always enough amusement and talking. But this old
-man was hopeless. She asked him questions about his
-croft, his family, his sheep and cows; and he answered
-gravely; but she took no interest in his answers, as her
-father might have done. She was unmistakably glad to
-get ashore for lunch—which was picturesque enough, by
-the way, with that beautiful background all around; and
-neither her father nor herself was in any hurry to break up
-the small picnic-party and set to work again.
-
-Nor did they do much better in the afternoon—though
-her father managed to capture a small eight-pounder; and
-so, in the evening, before dinner, she went along to Ronald
-to complain. She found him busy with his books; his
-gun and cap and telescope lying on the table beside him,
-showed that he had just come in.
-
-'Ay,' said he, 'it's slow work in weather like this. But
-will ye no sit down?' and he went and brought her a
-chair.
-
-'No, I thank you,' said she; 'I came along to see if
-you thought there was likely to be any change. Is your
-glass a good one?'
-
-'First-rate,' he answered, and he went to the small
-aneroid and tapped it lightly. 'It was given me by a
-gentleman that shot his first stag up here. I think he
-would have given me his head, he was so pleased. Well,
-no, Miss Hodson, there's not much sign of a change.
-But I'll tell ye what we'll do, if you're tired of the loch,
-we'll try one or two of the pools on the Mudal.'
-
-'You mean the river down there?'
-
-'There's not much hope there either—for the water's
-low the now; but we might by chance get a little wind,
-or there are some broken bits in the stream—
-
-'But you mean with a fly—how could I throw a fly?'
-she exclaimed.
-
-'Ye'll never learn younger,' was the quiet answer. 'It
-there's no change to-morrow I'll take ye up the river
-myself—and at least ye can get some practice in casting——'
-
-'Oh no, no,' said she hurriedly, 'thank you very much,
-but I must not take up your time——'
-
-'I'm no so busy that I cannot leave the house for an
-hour or two,' said he—and she understood by his manner
-that he was 'putting his foot down,' in which case she
-knew she might just as well give in at once. 'But I warn
-ye that it's a dour river at the best, and not likely to be in
-good ply; however, we might just happen on one.' And
-then he added, by way of explanation, 'If we should, it
-will have to be sent to Lord Ailine, ye understand.'
-
-'Why?'
-
-'Because the river doesna belong to your fishing; it
-goes with the shooting.'
-
-'Oh,' said she, somewhat coldly. 'And so, when Lord
-Ailine gives any one a day's fishing he claims whatever
-fish they may catch?'
-
-'When his lordship gives a day's fishing he does not;
-but when the keeper does—that's different,' was the
-perfectly simple and respectful answer.
-
-'Oh, I beg your pardon,' said she hastily, and sincerely
-hoping she had said nothing to wound his feelings.
-Apparently she had not, for he proceeded to warn her about
-the necessity of her putting on a thick pair of boots; and
-he also gently hinted that she might wear on her head
-something less conspicuous than the bright orange Tam o'
-Shanter of which she seemed rather fond.
-
-Accordingly, next morning, instead of sending him a
-message that she was ready, she walked along to the cottage,
-accoutred for a thorough stiff day's work. The outer door
-was open, so she entered without ceremony; and then
-tapped at the door of the little parlour, which she
-proceeded to open also. She then found that Ronald was
-not alone; there was a young man sitting there, who
-instantly rose as she made her appearance. She had but
-a momentary glimpse of him, but she came to the conclusion
-that the gamekeepers in this part of the world were
-a good-looking race, for this was a strongly-built young
-fellow, keen and active, apparently, with a rather pink and
-white complexion, closely-cropped head, bright yellow
-moustache, and singularly clear blue eyes. He wore a plain
-tweed suit; and as he rose he picked up a billycock hat
-that was lying on the table.
-
-'I'll see you to-night, Ronald,' said he, 'I'm going off
-by the mail again to-morrow.'
-
-And as he passed by Miss Carry, he said, very modestly
-and respectfully—
-
-'I hope you will have good sport.'
-
-'Thank you,' said she, most civilly, for he seemed a
-well-mannered young man, as he slightly bowed to her in
-passing, and made his way out.
-
-Ronald had everything ready for the start.
-
-'I'm feared they'll be laughing at us for trying the river
-on so clear a day,' said he, as he put his big fly-book in his
-pocket. 'And there's been no rain to let the fish get up.'
-
-'Oh I don't mind about that,' said she, as he held the
-door open, and she went out, 'it will be more interesting
-than the lake. However, I've nothing to say against the
-lake fishing, for it has done such wonders for my father. I
-have not seen him so well for years. Whether it is the
-quiet life, or the mountain air, I don't know, but he sleeps
-perfectly, and he has entirely given up the bromide of
-potassium. I do hope he will take the shooting and come back
-in the autumn.'
-
-'His lordship was saying there were two other gentlemen
-after it,' remarked Ronald significantly.
-
-'Who was saying?'
-
-'His lordship—that was in the house the now when
-ye came in.'
-
-'Was that Lord Ailine?' she said—and she almost
-paused in their walk along the road.
-
-'Oh yes.'
-
-'You don't say! Why, how did he come here?'
-
-'By the mail this morning.'
-
-'With the country people?'
-
-'Just like anybody else,' he said.
-
-'Well, I declare! I thought he would have come with
-a coach and outriders—in state, you know——'
-
-'What for?' said he impassively. 'He had no luggage,
-I suppose, but a bag and a waterproof. It's different in
-the autumn, of course, when all the gentlemen come up,
-and there's luggage and the rifles and the
-cartridge-boxes—then they have to have a brake or a waggonette.'
-
-'And that was Lord Ailine,' she said, half to herself;
-and there was no further speaking between them until they
-had gone past the Doctor's cottage and over the bridge and
-were some distance up 'the strath that Mudal laves'—to
-quote her companion's own words.
-
-'Now,' said he, as he stooped and began to put together
-the slender grilse-rod, 'we'll just let ye try a cast or two on
-this bit of open grass—and we'll no trouble with a fly as yet.'
-
-He fastened on the reel, got the line through the rings,
-and drew out a few yards' length. Then he gave her the
-rod; showed her how to hold it; and then stood just
-behind her, with his right hand covering hers.
-
-'Now,' said he, 'keep your left hand just about as steady
-as ye can—and don't jerk—this way—
-
-Of course it was really he who was making these few
-preliminary casts, and each time the line ran out and fell
-straight and trembling on the grass.
-
-'Now try it yourself.'
-
-At first she made a very bad job of it—especially when
-she tried to do it by main force; the line came curling
-down not much more than the rod's length in front of her,
-and the more she whipped the closer became the curls.
-
-'I'm afraid I don't catch on quite,' she said,
-unconsciously adopting one of her father's phrases.
-
-'Patience—patience,' said he; and again he gripped
-her hand in his and the line seemed to run out clear with
-the gentlest possible forward movement.
-
-And then he put out more line—and still more and
-more—until every backward and upward swoop of the rod,
-and every forward cast, was accompanied by a 'swish'
-through the air. This was all very well; and she was
-throwing a beautiful, clean line; but she began to wonder
-when the bones in her right hand would suddenly succumb
-and be crunched into a jelly. The weight of the rod—which
-seemed a mighty engine to her—did not tell on her,
-for his one hand did the whole thing; but his grip was
-terrible; and yet she did not like to speak.
-
-'Now try for yourself,' said he, and he stepped aside.
-
-'Wait a minute,' she said—and she shook her hand, to
-get the life back into it.
-
-'I did not hurt you?' said he, in great concern.
-
-'We learn in suffering what we teach in song,' she said
-lightly. 'If I am to catch a salmon with a fly-rod, I
-suppose I have got to go through something.'
-
-She set to work again; and, curiously enough, she
-seemed to succeed better with the longer line than with
-the short one. There was less jerking; the forward
-movement was more even; and though she was far indeed
-from throwing a good line, it was very passable for a
-beginner.
-
-'You know,' said she, giving him a good-humoured hint,
-'I don't feel like doing this all day.'
-
-'Well, then, we'll go down to the water now,' said he,
-and he took the rod from her.
-
-They walked down through the swampy grass and
-heather to the banks of the stream; and here he got out
-his fly-book—a bulged and baggy volume much the worse
-for wear. And then it instantly occurred to her that this
-was something she could get for him—the most splendid
-fly-book and assortment of salmon flies to be procured in
-London—until it just as suddenly occurred to her that he
-would have little use for these in Glasgow. She saw him
-select a smallish black and gold and crimson-tipped object
-from that bulky volume; and a few minutes thereafter she
-was armed for the fray, and he was standing by watching.
-
-Now the Mudal, though an exceedingly 'dour' salmon-river,
-is at least easy for a beginner to fish, for there is
-scarcely anywhere a bush along its level banks. And there
-were the pools—some of them deep and drumly enough in
-all conscience; and no doubt there were salmon in them,
-if only they could be seduced from their lair. For one
-thing, Ronald had taken her to a part of the stream where
-she could not, in any case, do much harm by her preliminary
-whippings of the water.
-
-She began—not without some little excitement, and
-awful visions of triumph and glory if she should really be
-able to capture a salmon by her own unaided skill. Of
-course she caught in the heather behind her sometimes;
-and occasionally the line would come down in a ghastly
-heap on the water; but then again it would go fairly out
-and over to the other bank, and the letting it down with
-the current and drawing it across—as he had shown her in
-one or two casts—was a comparatively easy matter. She
-worked hard, at all events, and obeyed implicitly—until
-alas! there came a catastrophe.
-
-'A little bit nearer the bank if you can,' said he; 'just a
-foot nearer.'
-
-She clenched her teeth. Back went the rod with all her
-might—and forward again with all her might—but midway
-and overhead there was a mighty crack like that of a
-horse-whip; and calmly he regarded the line as it fell on the
-water.
-
-'The fly's gone,' said he—but with not a trace of
-vexation.
-
-'Oh, Ronald, I'm so sorry!' she cried, for she knew
-that these things were expensive, even where they did not
-involve a considerable outlay of personal skill and trouble.
-
-'Not at all,' said he, as he quietly sate down on a dry
-bunch of heather and got out his book again. 'All
-beginners do that. I'll just show ye in a minute or two
-how to avoid it. And we'll try a change now.'
-
-Indeed she was in no way loth to sit down on the
-heather too; and even after he had selected the particular
-Childers he wanted, she took the book, and would have
-him tell her the names of all the various flies, which, quite
-apart from their killing merits, seemed to her beautiful and
-interesting objects. And finally she said—
-
-'Ronald, my arms are a little tired. Won't you try a
-cast or two? I am sure I should learn as much by looking
-on.'
-
-He did as he was bid; and she went with him; but he
-could not stir anything. The river was low; the day was
-clear; there was no wind. But at last they came to a part
-of the stream where there was a dark and deep pool, and
-below that a wide bed of shingle, while between the shingle
-and the bank was a narrow channel where the water tossed
-and raced before breaking out into the shallows. He
-drew her a little bit back from the bank and made her take
-the rod again.
-
-'If there's a chance at all, it's there,' he said. 'Do ye
-see that stone over there?—well, just try to drop the fly
-a foot above the stone, and let it get into the swirl.'
-
-She made her first cast—the line fell in a tangled heap
-about three yards short.
-
-'Ye've got out of the way of it,' said he, and he took
-the rod from her, let out a little more line, and then gave
-it to her again, standing behind her, with his hand
-over-gripping hers.
-
-'Now!'
-
-The fly fell a foot short—but clean. The next cast it
-fell at the precise spot indicated, and was swept into the
-current, and dragged slowly and jerkily across. Again he
-made the cast for her, with the same negative result; and
-then he withdrew his hand.
-
-'That's right—very well done!' he said, as she continued.
-
-'Yes, but what's the use when you have tried——'
-
-She had scarcely got the words out when she suddenly
-found the line held tight—and tighter—she saw it cut its
-way through the water, up and towards the bank of the
-pool above—and down and down was the point of the rod
-pulled until it almost touched the stream. All this had
-happened in one wild second.
-
-'Let the line go!—what are ye doing, lassie?' he cried.
-The fact was that in her sudden alarm she had grasped
-both line and rod more firmly than ever; and in another
-half second the fish must inevitably have broken something.
-But this exclamation of his recalled her to her senses—she
-let the line go free—got up the rod—and then waited
-events—with her heart in her mouth. She had not long to
-wait. It very soon appeared to her as if she had hooked
-an incarnate flash of lightning; for there was nothing this
-beast did not attempt to do; now rushing down the narrow
-channel so close to the bank that a single out-jutting twig
-must have cut the line; now lashing on the edge of the
-shallows; twice jerking himself into the air; and then
-settling down in the deep pool, not to sulk, but to twist
-and tug at the line in a series of angry snaps. And always
-it was 'Oh, Ronald, what shall I do now?' or 'Ronald,
-what will he do next?'
-
-'You're doing well enough,' said he placidly. 'But it
-will be a long fight; and ye must not let him too far down
-the stream, or he'll take ye below the foot bridge. And
-don't give him much line; follow him, rather.'
-
-She was immediately called on to act on this advice;
-for with one determined, vicious rush, away went the salmon
-down the stream—she after him as well as her woman's
-skirts would allow, and always and valorously she was keeping
-a tight strain on the pliant rod. Alas! all of a sudden
-her foot caught in a tuft of heather—down she went,
-prone, her arms thrown forward so that nothing could save
-her. But did she let go the rod? Not a bit! She clung
-to it with the one hand; and when Ronald helped her to
-her feet again, she had no thought of herself at all—all her
-breathless interest was centred on the salmon. Fortunately
-that creature had now taken to sulking, in a pool farther
-down; and she followed him, getting in the line the while.
-
-'But I'm afraid you're hurt,' said he.
-
-'No, no.'
-
-Something was tickling the side of her face. She shifted
-the grip of the rod, and passed the back of her right hand
-across her ear; a brief glance showed her that her knuckles
-were stained with blood. But she took no further heed;
-for she had to get both hands on the rod again.
-
-'She has pluck, that one,' Ronald said to himself; but
-he said nothing aloud, he wanted her to remain as
-self-possessed as possible.
-
-'And what if he goes down to the footbridge, Ronald?'
-she said presently.
-
-'But ye must not let him.'
-
-'But if he will go?'
-
-'Then ye'll give me the rod and I'll take it under the
-bridge.'
-
-The fish lay there as heavy and dead as a stone;
-nothing they could do could stir him an inch.
-
-'The beast has been at this work before,' Ronald said.
-'That jagging to get the hook out is the trick of an old
-hand. But this sulking will never do at all.'
-
-He left her and went farther up the stream to the place
-where the river ran over the wide bed of shingle. There
-he deliberately walked into the water—picking up a few
-pebbles as he went—and, with a running leap, crossed the
-channel and gained the opposite bank. Then he quickly
-walked down to within a yard or two of the spot where the
-'dour' salmon lay.
-
-She thought this was very foolish child's play that he
-should go and fling little stones at a fish he could not see.
-But presently she perceived that he was trying all he could
-to get the pebbles to drop vertically and parallel with the
-line. And then the object of this device was apparent.
-The salmon moved heavily forward, some few inches only.
-Another pebble was dropped. This time the fish made a
-violent rush up stream that caused Miss Carry's reel to
-shriek; and off she set after him (but with more circumspection
-this time as regards her footing), getting in the
-line as rapidly as possible as she went. Ronald now came
-over and joined her, and this was comforting to her nerves.
-
-Well, long before she had killed that fish she had
-discovered the difference between loch-fishing and
-river-fishing; but she did kill him in the end; and mightily
-pleased she was when she saw him lying on the sere wintry
-grass. Ronald would have had her try again; but she had
-had enough; it was past lunch time, and she was hungry;
-moreover, she was tired; and then again she did not wish
-that he should waste the whole day. So, when she had
-sate down for a while, and watched him tie the salmon
-head and tail, they set out for the village again, very well
-content; while as for the slight wound she had received
-by her ear catching on a twig of heather when she fell, that
-was quite forgotten now.
-
-'And ye are to have the fish,' said he. 'I told his
-lordship this morning you were going to try your hand at
-the casting; and he said if you got one you would be proud
-of it, no doubt, and ye were to keep it, of course.'
-
-'Well, that is very kind; I suppose I must thank him
-if I see him?'
-
-And she was very curious to know all about Lord Ailine;
-and why he should come to Inver-Mudal merely for these
-few hours; and what kind of people he brought with him
-in the autumn. He answered her as well as he could; and
-then they went on to other things—all in a very gay and
-merry mood, for he was as proud as she was over this
-achievement.
-
-At the same moment Meenie Douglas was in her own
-little room, engaged on a work of art of a not very ambitious
-kind. She had lying before her on the table a pencil-sketch
-in outline of such features of the landscape as could be seen
-from the window—the loch, the wooded promontories, Ben
-Clebrig, and the little clump of trees that sheltered the inn;
-and she was engaged in making a smaller copy of this
-drawing, in pen and ink, on a paper-cutter of brown wood.
-She was not much of an artist, perhaps; but surely these
-simple outlines were recognisable; and if they were to be
-entitled '*A Souvenir*,' and carried away to the south as a little
-parting present, might they not in some idle moment of
-the future recall some brief memory of these northern wilds?
-So she was at work on this task—and very careful that the
-lines should be clear and precise—when she heard the sound
-of voices without—or rather one voice, which presently she
-recognised to be Ronald's: she could not easily mistake it.
-And if she were to go to the window and get him to stop
-for a minute, at the gate, and show him the sketch that she
-had just about finished—perhaps he would be pleased?
-
-She went to the window—but instantly drew back. She
-had just caught a glimpse: it was the American young lady
-he was walking with—at a time when he was supposed to
-be so busy; and he was carrying her rod for her and her
-ulster as well as the salmon; and they were laughing and
-gaily talking together, like a pair of lovers almost on this
-clear spring day. Meenie went slowly back to the table—her
-face perhaps a trifle paler than usual; and she sate
-down, and began to look at the little drawing that she had
-been rather proud of. But her lips were proud and firm.
-Why should she give a drawing to any one—more especially
-to one who was so ready with his friendship and so quick
-to consort with strangers? The lines on the brown wood
-seemed cold and uninteresting; she was no longer anxious
-that they should suggest an accurate picture; nay, she
-pushed the thing away from her, and rose, and went back
-to the window, and stood idly gazing out there, her lips
-still proud, her mien defiant.
-
-And then—well, Ronald was going away. Was it worth
-while to let pride or self-love come between them and
-becloud these last few days, when perhaps they might never
-see each other again? For well she knew of her mother's
-aims and hopes with regard to herself; and well she knew
-that—whatever she may have guessed from the verses of
-Ronald's which assuredly had never been meant for her to
-see—it was neither for him nor for her to expect that the
-harsh facts and necessities of the world should give place
-and yield to a passing fancy, a dream, a kind of wistful,
-half-poetic shadow of what otherwise might have been.
-But at least Ronald and she might part friends; nay, they
-should part friends. And so she returned to the
-table—overmastering her momentary pride; and she took up the
-discarded little drawing and regarded it with gentler eyes.
-For, after all (as she could not forget) Ronald was going away.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`POETA ... NON FIT`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER VI.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- POETA ... NON FIT.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-It soon became obvious that the salmon-fishers from the
-other side of the Atlantic had got into a long spell of
-deplorably fine weather; and a gentle melancholy settled
-down upon the souls of the gillies. In vain, morning after
-morning, the men searched every quarter of the heavens
-for any sign of even a couple of days' deluge to flood the
-rivers and send the kelts down and bring the clean salmon
-up from the sea. This wild and bleak region grew to be
-like some soft summer fairyland; the blue loch and the
-yellow headlands, and the far treeless stretches of moor lay
-basking in the sunlight; Ben Loyal's purples and browns
-were clear to the summit; Ben Clebrig's snows had nearly
-all melted away. Nor could the discontented boatmen
-understand how the two strangers should accept this state
-of affairs with apparent equanimity. Both were now
-provided with a book; and when the rods had been
-properly set so as to be ready for any emergency, they
-could pass the time pleasantly enough in this perfect
-stillness, gliding over the smooth waters, and drinking in
-the sweet mountain air. As for Miss Carry, she had
-again attacked the first volume of Gibbon—for she would
-hot be beaten; and very startling indeed it was when a
-fish did happen to strike the minnow, to be so suddenly
-summoned back from Palmyra to this Highland loch. In
-perfect silence, with eyes and attention all absented, she
-would be reading thus—
-
-'*When the Syrian queen was brought into the presence of
-Aurelian, he sternly asked her, how she had presumed to rise
-in arms against the Emperor of Rome? The answer of
-Zenobia was a prudent mixture of respect and firmness*'—when
-sharp would come the warning cry of Malcolm—'There
-he is, Miss!—there he is!'—and she would dash
-down the historian to find the rod being violently shaken
-and the reel screaming out its joyous note. Moreover, in
-this still weather, the unusual visitor not unfrequently
-brought some other element of surprise with him. She
-acquired a considerable experience of the different forms of
-foul-hooking and of the odd manoeuvres of the fish in such
-circumstances. On one occasion the salmon caught himself
-on the minnow by his dorsal fin; and for over an hour
-contented himself with rolling about under water without
-once showing himself, and with such a strain that she
-thought he must be the champion fish of the lake: when
-at last they did get him into the boat he was found to be a
-trifle under ten pounds. But, taken altogether, this cultivation
-of literature, varied by an occasional 'fluke' of a capture,
-and these placid and dreamlike mornings and afternoons,
-were far from being as satisfactory as the former and wilder
-days when Ronald was in the boat, even with all their
-discomforts of wind and rain and snow.
-
-By this time she had acquired another grievance.
-
-'Why did you let him go, pappa, without a single word?'
-she would say, as they sate over their books or newspapers
-in the evening. 'It was my only chance. You could
-easily have introduced yourself to him by speaking of the
-shooting——'
-
-'You know very well, Carry,' he would answer—trying
-to draw her into the fields of common sense—'I can say
-nothing about that till I see how mother's health is.'
-
-'I am sure she would say yes if she saw what the place
-has done for you, pappa; salmon-fishing has proved better
-for you than bromide of potassium. But that's not the
-trouble at all. Why did you let him go? Why did you
-let him spend the evening at the Doctor's?—and the next
-morning he went about the whole time with Ronald! My
-only chance of spurning a lord, too. Do they kneel in
-this country, pappa, when they make their declaration; or
-is that only in plays? Never mind; it would be all the
-same. "No, my lord; the daughter of a free Republic
-cannot wed a relic of feudalism; farewell, my lord, farewell!
-I know that you are heart-broken for life; but the daughter
-of a free Republic must be true to her manifest destiny."'
-
-'Oh, be quiet!'
-
-'And then the girls at home, when I got back, they
-would all have come crowding around: "Do tell, now, did
-you get a British nobleman to propose, Carry?" "What
-do you imagine I went to Europe for?" "And you
-rejected him?" "You bet your pile on that. Why,
-you should have seen him writhe on the floor when I
-spurned him! I spurned him, I tell you I did—the
-daughter of a free Republic"——'
-
-'Will you be quiet!'
-
-'But it was really too bad, pappa!' she protested.
-'There he was lounging around all the morning. And all
-I heard him say was when he was just going—when he was
-on the mail-car, "Ronald," he called out, "have you got a
-match about you?"—and he had a wooden pipe in his
-hand. And that's all I know about the manners and
-conversation of the British nobility; and what will they
-say of me at home?'
-
-'When does Ronald go?' he would ask; and this, at
-least, was one sure way of bringing her back to the paths of
-sanity and soberness; for the nearer that this departure
-came, the more concerned she was about it, having some
-faint consciousness that she herself had a share of the
-responsibility.
-
-And in another direction, moreover, she was becoming
-a little anxious. No message of any kind had arrived from
-the *Chicago Citizen*. Now she had written to Miss Kerfoot
-before she left for Paris; her stay in the French capital
-had extended to nearly three weeks; there was the space
-occupied in going and returning; so that if Jack Huysen
-meant to do anything with the verses it was about time
-that that should appear. And the more she thought of it
-the more she set her heart on it, and hoped that Ronald's
-introduction to the reading public would be a flattering one
-and one of which he could reasonably be proud. Her
-father had it in his power to secure his material advancement;
-and that was well enough; but what if it were
-reserved for her to confer a far greater service on him?
-For if this first modest effort were welcomed in a friendly
-way, might he not be induced to put forth a volume, and
-claim a wider recognition? It need not interfere with his
-more practical work; and then, supposing it were
-successful? Look at the status it would win for him—a thing
-of far more value in the old country, where society is
-gradated into ranks, than in her country, where every one
-(except hotel clerks, as she insisted) was on the same plane.
-He would then be the equal of anybody—even in this old
-England; she had at least acquired so far a knowledge of
-English society. And if he owed the first suggestion and
-impulse to her?—if she were to be the means, in however
-small and tentative a fashion, of his ultimately establishing
-his fame? That he could do so if he tried, she never
-thought of doubting. She saw him every day, and the
-longer she knew him the more she was certain that the
-obvious mental force that seemed to radiate from him in
-the ordinary conversation and discussion of everyday life
-only wanted to be put into a definite literary channel to
-make its mark. And was not the time ripe for a poet?
-And it was not Edinburgh, or Glasgow, or London that had
-nowadays to decide on his merits, but two great continents
-of English-speaking people.
-
-At length came the answer to her urgent prayer—a letter
-from Miss Kerfoot and a copy of the *Chicago Citizen*.
-The newspaper she opened first; saw with delight that a
-long notice—a very long notice indeed—had been accorded
-to the verses she had sent; and with a proud heart she
-put the paper in her pocket, for careful reading when she
-should get down to the lake. Miss Kerfoot's letter she
-glanced over; but it did not say much; the writer observed
-that Mr. Jack Huysen had only seemed half pleased when
-informed of Carry's extraordinary interest in the phenomenal
-Scotch gamekeeper; and, referring to the article in the
-*Citizen*, she said Jack Huysen had entrusted the writing of
-it to Mr. G. Quincy Regan, who was, she understood, one
-of the most cultured young men in Chicago, and likely to
-make quite a reputation for himself ere long. There were
-some other matters mentioned in this letter; but they need
-not detain us here.
-
-Miss Carry was in very high spirits as she set forth from
-the inn with her father to walk down to the boats. They
-met Ronald, too, on their way; he was accompanied by the
-man who was to take his place after his leaving; and Miss
-Carry could not help comparing the two of them as they
-came along the road. But, after all, it was not outward
-appearance that made the real difference between men; it
-was mental stature; she had that in her pocket which could
-show to everybody how Ronald was a head and shoulders
-over any of his peers. And she took but little interest in
-the setting up of the rods or the selection of the minnows;
-she wanted to be out on the lake, alone, in the silence, to
-read line by line and word by word this introduction of her
-hero to the public.
-
-The following is the article:
-
-'A REMARKABLE LITERARY DISCOVERY—OUR FELLOW-CITIZENS
-ABROAD—ANOTHER RUSTIC POET—CHICAGO
-CLAIMS HIM. It may be in the recollection of some of our
-readers that a few years ago a small party of American
-tourists, consisting of Curtis H. Mack, who was one of our
-most distinguished major-generals in the rebellion, and is
-now serving on the Indian frontier; his niece, Miss Hettie
-F. Doig, a very talented lady and contributor to several of
-our best periodicals; and John Grimsby Patterson, editor of
-the Baltimore *Evening News*, were travelling in Europe,
-when they had the good fortune to discover an Irish poet,
-Patrick Milligan, who had long languished in obscurity, no
-doubt the victim of British jealousy as well as of misrule.
-Major-General Mack interested himself in this poor man,
-and, in conjunction with William B. Stevens, of Cleveland,
-Ohio, had him brought over to this country, where they
-were eventually successful in obtaining for him a
-postmastership in New Petersburg, Conn., leaving him to devote
-such time as he pleased to the service of the tuneful nine.
-Mr. Milligan's Doric reed has not piped to us much of late
-years; but we must all remember the stirring verses which
-he wrote on the occasion of Colonel George W. Will's
-nomination for Governor of Connecticut. It has now been
-reserved for another party of American travellers, still
-better known to us than the above, for they are no other
-than our esteemed fellow-citizen, Mr. Josiah Hodson and
-his brilliant and accomplished daughter, Miss Caroline
-Hodson, to make a similar discovery in the Highlands of
-Scotland; and in view of such recurring instances, we may
-well ask whether there be not in the mental alertness of
-our newer civilisation a capacity for the detection and
-recognition of intellectual merit which exists not among the
-deadening influences of an older and exhausted civilisation.
-It has sometimes been charged against this country that we
-do not excel in arts and letters; that we are in a measure
-careless of them; that political problems and material
-interests occupy our mind. The present writer, at least, is
-in no hurry to repel that charge, odious as it may seem to
-some. We, as Americans, should remember that the
-Athenian Republic, with which our western Republic has
-nothing to fear in the way of comparison, when it boasted
-its most lavish display of artistic and literary culture, was
-no less conspicuous for its moral degeneracy and political
-corruption. It was in the age of Pericles and of Phidias, of
-Socrates and Sophocles, of Euripides and Aristophanes and
-Thucydides, that Athens showed herself most profligate;
-private licence was unbridled; justice was bought and sold;
-generals incited to war that they might fill their pockets
-out of the public purse; and all this spectacle in striking
-contrast with the manly virtues of the rude and unlettered
-kingdom of Sparta, whose envoys were laughed at because
-they had not the trick of Athenian oratory and casuistry.
-We say, then, that we are not anxious to repel this charge
-brought against our great western Republic, that we assign
-to arts and letters a secondary place; on the contrary, we
-are content that the over-cultivation of these should fatten
-on the decaying and effete nations of Europe, as phosphorus
-shines in rotten wood.'
-
-Now she had determined to read every sentence of this
-article conscientiously, as something more than a mere
-intellectual treat; but, as she went on, joy did not seem to
-be the result. The reference to Patrick Milligan and the
-postmastership in Connecticut she considered to be distinctly
-impertinent; but perhaps Jack Huysen had not explained
-clearly to the young gentleman all that she had written to
-Emma Kerfoot? Anyhow, she thought, when he came to
-Ronald's little Highland poem, he would perhaps drop his
-Athenians, and talk more like a reasonable human being.
-
-'That the first strain from the new singer's lyre should
-be placed at the services of the readers of the *Citizen*, we
-owe to the patriotism of the well-known and charming lady
-whose name we have given above; nor could the verses
-have fallen into better hands. In this case there is no need
-that Horace should cry to Tyndaris—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | O matre pulchrâ filia pulchrior,
- | Quem criminosis cunque voles modum
- | Pones iambis, sive flammâ
- | Sive mari libet Hadriano.
-
-Moreover, we have received a hint that this may not be
-the last piece of the kind with which we may be favoured;
-so that we have again to thank our fair fellow-townswoman
-for her kindly attention. But lest our readers may be
-growing weary of this *prolegomenon*, we will at once quote
-this latest utterance of the Scottish muse which has come
-to us under such favourable auspices:'
-
-Here followed Ronald's poor verses, that perhaps looked
-insignificant enough, after this sonorous trumpet-blaring.
-The writer proceeded:
-
-'Now certain qualities in this composition are so obvious
-that we need hardly specify them; we give the writer credit
-for simplicity, pathos, and a hearty sympathy with the
-victims of the tyrannical greed of the chase-loving British
-landlord. But it is with no intent of looking a gift-horse
-in the mouth (which would be a poor return for the
-courtesy of the lady who has interested herself in the rustic
-bard) if we proceed to resolve this piece into its elements,
-that we may the more accurately cast the horoscope of this
-new applicant for the public applause. To begin with, the
-sentiment of nostalgia is but a slender backbone for any
-work of literary art. In almost every case it is itself a
-fallacy. What were the conditions under which these
-people—arbitrarily and tyrannically, it may have been—were
-forced away from their homes? Either they were
-bad agriculturists or the land was too poor to support them;
-and in either case their transference to a more generous
-soil could be nothing but a benefit to them. Their life
-must have been full of privations and cares. *Forsan et haec
-olim meminisse juvabit*; but the pleasure ought to lie in
-thinking of the escape; so that we maintain that to base
-any piece of literary work on such a false sentiment as
-nostalgia is seen to be, leads us to suspect the *veracity* of
-the writer and calls upon us to be on our guard. Moreover,
-we maintain that it is of the essence of pastoral and
-idyllic poetry to be cheerful and jocund; and it is to be
-observed that sadness prevails in poetry only when a nation
-has passed its youth and becomes saturated with the regret
-of old age. We prefer the stories told
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | Where Corydon and Thyrsis met
- | Are at their savoury dinner set;
-
-and the lyrist when he sings
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo,
- | Dulce loquentem;
-
-and we hold that when the poets of a nation are permeated
-by a lackadaisical sentiment—when they have the candour
-to style themselves the idle singers of an empty day—when
-the burden of their song is regret and weariness and a
-lamentation over former joys—then it is time for such
-poets and the nation they represent to take a back seat in
-the lecture halls of literature, and give way to the newer
-and stronger race that is bound to dominate the future.'
-
-She read no farther; and it is a great pity that she did
-not; for the writer by and by went on to say some very nice
-things about these unlucky verses; and even hinted that
-here was a man who might be benefited by coming to stay
-in Chicago,—'the future capital of the future empire of the
-world,'—and by having his eyes opened as to the rate of
-progress possible in these modern days; and wound up
-with a most elaborate compliment to the intellectual
-perspicacity and judgment of Miss Carry herself. She did
-not read beyond what is quoted above for the simple reason
-that she was in a most violent rage, and also extremely
-mortified with herself for being so vexed. She tore the
-newspaper into shreds, and crushed these together, and
-flung them into the bottom of the boat. Her cheeks were
-quite pale; her eyes burning; and through all the anger of
-her disappointment ran the shame of the consciousness that
-it was she who had exposed Ronald to this insult. What
-though he should never know anything about it? Her
-friends in Chicago would know. And it was the man whom
-she wanted to glorify and make a hero of who had, through
-her instrumentality, been subjected to the pedantic criticism,
-the pretentious analyses, and, worst of all, the insulting
-patronage of this unspeakable ass. Suddenly she regretted
-the destruction of the newspaper; she would like to have
-looked at it again, to justify her wrath. No matter; she
-could remember enough; and she would not forget Jack
-Huysen's share in this transaction.
-
-She was very silent and reserved at lunch time; and
-her father began to believe that, after all, in spite of her
-repeated assurances, their ill-luck with the fishing was
-weighing on her spirits.
-
-'You know, Carry,' said he, 'it is not in the nature of
-things that weather like this can last in the Highlands of
-Scotland. It is notoriously one of the wettest places in the
-world. There *must* be rain coming soon; and then think
-of all the fish that will be rushing up in shoals, and what a
-time we shall have.'
-
-'I am not disappointed with the fishing at all, pappa,'
-she said. 'I think we have done very well.'
-
-'What is the matter, then?'
-
-'Oh, nothing.'
-
-And then she said—
-
-'Well, I will tell you, pappa. I asked Jack Huysen to
-do me a very particular favour; and he did not do it; and
-when I next see Jack Huysen, I think he will find it a very
-cold day.'
-
-The words were mysterious; but the tone was enough.
-
-And all the afternoon she sate in the stern of the coble
-and brooded, composing imaginary letters to the editor
-of the *New York Herald*, to the editor of the *Nation*, to
-the editor of the Chicago *Tribune*, to the editor of *Puck*,
-and a great many other journals, all of these phantom
-epistles beginning 'As an American girl I appeal to you,'
-and proceeding to beg of the editor to hold up to merciless
-scorn a certain feeble, shallow, and impertinent article
-(herewith enclosed) which had appeared in the *Chicago
-Citizen*. And on the way home, too, in the evening, she
-began to question her father as to his personal acquaintance
-with editors and journalists, which seemed to be of the
-slightest; and she at length admitted that she wanted some
-one to reply—and sharply—to an article that had been
-written about a friend of hers.
-
-'You let that alone,' her father said. 'It's not very
-easy for any one to meddle in the politics of our country
-without coming out more or less tattooed; for they don't
-mind what they say about you; and you are very well to
-be out of it.'
-
-'It isn't politics at all,' she said. 'And—and—the
-article is written about a friend of mine—and—I want to
-have the writer told what a fool he is.'
-
-'But probably he would not believe it,' her father said
-quietly.
-
-'He would see that some one else believed it.'
-
-'I am not sure that that would hurt him much,' was the
-unsatisfactory answer.
-
-When they drew near to Inver-Mudal she found herself
-quite afraid and ashamed at the thought of their possibly
-meeting Ronald. Had she not betrayed him? He had
-sought for no recognition; probably he was too proud or
-too manly and careless about what any one might write of
-him; it was she who had put him into that suppliant
-attitude, and brought upon him the insolent encouragement of
-a microcephalous fool. This was the return she had made
-him for all his kindness to her father and to herself. Why,
-he had told her to burn the verses! And to think that she
-should have been the means of submitting them to the
-scrutiny and patronage of this jackanapes—and that
-Mr. J. C. Huysen should as good as say 'Well, this is what we
-think of your prodigy'—all this was near bringing tears of
-rage to her eyes. For Miss Carry, it must be repeated, was
-'a real good fellow,' and very loyal to her friends, and
-impatient of injustice done them; and perhaps, unconsciously
-to herself, she may have felt some of the consternation
-of the wild animal whose duty it is to protect her mate
-with her superior feminine watchfulness, and who, through
-neglect or carelessness, allows the destroyer to come in and
-slay. In any case, it certainly promised to be 'a very cold
-day' for Mr. Jack Huysen when these two should meet in
-Chicago.
-
-That night, after dinner, father and daughter went out
-for a stroll; for by this time the moon was drawing to its
-full again; and all the world lay peaceful and silent in the
-wan clear light. They had not emerged from the trees in
-front of the inn on to the white pathway of the road when
-a sound in the distance caught Miss Carry's ears, and
-instantly she touched her father's arm and drew him back
-into the shadow. She wanted to hear what song this was
-that Ronald was singing on his homeward way.
-
-At first she could make out nothing but fragments of
-the air—clear and soft and distant—
-
-.. figure:: images/img-080a.jpg
- :align: center
- :alt: Music fragment
-
- Music fragment
-
-but as he drew nearer the words become more distinct:
-
- | And kiss'd her ripe ros-es, and blest her black e'e;
- | And aye since whene'er we meet, sing, for the sound is sweet,
- | "I was a-sleep but ye've wak-en'd me.'
-
-.. figure:: images/img-080b.jpg
- :align: center
- :alt: Music fragment
-
- Music fragment
-
-
-So clear and penetrating and careless and joyous was
-this singing!—her heart was stirred with pride as she
-listened; this was not the voice of a man who would trouble
-himself with any whipper-snapper criticism;—nay, she began
-to wonder that she had wasted so much indignation on so
-trivial a thing. Then there was a sudden silence, except
-for his footfall; and presently the dark figure appeared out
-there on the white road—his shadow a sharp black in front
-of him, the little terrier trotting behind him—and in a
-minute or so the long swinging stride had carried him past
-their ambush on his homeward way to the cottage.
-
-'What a splendid voice that fellow has got!' her father
-said, as they also now went out on to the white highway,
-and took the opposite direction.
-
-'He seems to be very well contented with himself,' she
-said, rather absently.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER VII.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Ronald came down to the loch-side the next morning just
-as she was about to get into the coble—her father having
-started a few minutes before.
-
-'I hear you have not been doing very well with the fishing,'
-said he, in that brisk, business-like fashion of his.
-
-'The salmon appear to have gone away somewhere,' she
-replied.
-
-'Oh, but that will never do,' said he cheerfully. 'We
-must try and make some alteration.'
-
-He took the key of the kennels from his pocket.
-
-'Here, Johnnie lad, ye may go and take the dogs out
-for a run.'
-
-Was Ronald, then, coming with her? Her eyes brightened
-with anticipation; there was a welcome in the look of her
-face that ought to have been sufficient reward for him.
-Nor had she the courage to protest—though she knew that
-his time was drawing short now. As for the salmon—well,
-it was not about salmon she was thinking exclusively.
-
-'They say a change of gillie sometimes brings a change
-of luck,' said he good-naturedly; and he began to overhaul
-the tackle, substituting smaller minnows for those already
-on. 'And I think we will try down at the other end of
-the loch this time. We will make sure of some trout in
-any case.'
-
-'But it is so far away, Ronald; are you certain you can
-afford the time?' she was bound, in common fairness, to ask.
-
-'Oh yes, I can afford the time,' said he, 'even if this
-should have to be my last day on the loch. Besides, if we
-do not treat you well, maybe you'll never come back.'
-
-'And what is the use of our coming back, when you
-won't be here?' she was on the point of saying, but she
-did not say it, fortunately.
-
-Then they set forth, on this still summer-like day; and
-they hailed the other boat in passing, and told them of their
-intended voyage of exploration. Indeed their prospects of
-sport at the setting out were anything but promising; the
-long levels of the lake were mostly of a pale glassy blue
-and white; and the little puffs of wind that stirred the
-surface here and there into a shimmer of silver invariably died
-down again, leaving the water to become a mirror once
-more of rock and tree and hill. But she was well content.
-This was an unknown world into which they were now
-penetrating; and it was a good deal more beautiful than
-the upper end of the lake (where the best fishing ground
-was) with which they had grown so familiar. Here were
-hanging woods coming right down to the water's edge; and
-lofty and precipitous crags stretching away into the pale blue
-sky; and winding bays and picturesque shores where the
-huge boulders, green and white and yellow with lichen, and
-the rich velvet moss, and the withered bracken, and the
-silver-clear stems of the birch trees were all brilliant in the
-sun. The only living creatures that seemed to inhabit this
-strange silent region were the birds. A pair of eagles
-slowly circled round and round, but at so great a height
-that they were but a couple of specks which the eye was apt
-to lose; black-throated divers and golden-eyed divers,
-disturbed by these unusual visitors, rose from the water and
-went whirring by to the upper stretches of the lake; a
-hen-harrier hovered in mid-air, causing a frantic commotion
-among the smaller birds beneath; the curlews, now wheeling
-about in pairs, uttered their long warning whistle; the
-peewits called angrily, flying zig-zag, with audible whuffing
-of their soft broad wings; the brilliant little redshanks flew
-like a flash along the shore, just skimming the water; and
-two great wild-geese went by overhead, with loud, harsh
-croak. And ever it was Ronald's keen eye that first caught
-sight of them; and he would draw her attention to them;
-and tell her the names of them all. And at last—as they
-were coming out of one of the small glassy bays, and as he
-was idly regarding the tall and rocky crags that rose above
-the birchwoods—he laughed lightly.
-
-'Ye glaiket things,' said he, as if he were recognising
-some old friends, 'what brings ye in among the sheep?'
-
-'What is it, Ronald?' she asked—and she followed the
-direction of his look towards those lofty crags, but could
-make out nothing unusual.
-
-'Dinna ye see the hinds?' he said quietly.
-
-'Where—where?' she cried, in great excitement; for she
-had not seen a single deer all the time of her stay.
-
-'At the edge of the brown corrie—near the sky-line.
-There are three of them—dinna ye see them?'
-
-'No, I don't!' she said impatiently.
-
-'Do ye see the two sheep?'
-
-'I see two white specks—I suppose they're sheep.'
-
-'Well—just above them.'
-
-But the boat was slowly moving all this time; and
-presently the gradual change in their position brought one of
-the hinds clear into view on the sky-line. The beautiful
-creature, with its graceful neck, small head, and upraised
-ears, was evidently watching them, but with no apparent
-intention of making off; and presently Miss Carry, whose
-eyes were becoming better accustomed to the place, could
-make out the other two hinds, one of them lying on the
-grass, the other contentedly feeding, and paying no heed
-whatever to the passing boat.
-
-'I thought you said the sheep drove them away,' she
-said to him.
-
-'It's the men and the dogs mostly,' he answered. 'Sometimes
-they will come in among the sheep like that, if the
-feeding tempts them. My word, that would be an easy
-stalk now—if it was the season.'
-
-Very soon they found that the three hinds were no longer
-in view; but there were plenty of other things to claim their
-attention on this solitary voyage. What, for example, was
-this great circular mass of stones standing on a projecting
-promontory? These were the remains, he explained to
-her, of a Pictish fort. Another, in better preservation, was
-on the opposite shore; and, if she cared to visit it, she
-might make her way into the hollow passages constructed
-between the double line of wall, if she were not afraid of
-adders, nor yet of some of the uncemented stones falling
-upon her.
-
-'And what are these?' she said, indicating the ruins of
-certain circles formed on the hill-plateaux just above the
-loch.
-
-'They're down in the Ordnance Survey as "hut-circles,"'
-he said, 'but that is all I know about them.'
-
-'At all events, there must have been plenty of people
-living here at one time?'
-
-'I suppose so.'
-
-'Well, I don't think I ever saw any place in our country
-looking quite so lonely as that,' she said, regarding the
-voiceless solitudes of wood and hill and crag. 'Seems as
-if with us there was always some one around—camping out,
-or something—but I dare say in Dacotah or Idaho you
-would get lonelier places than this even. Well, now, what
-do they call it?' she asked, as an afterthought.
-
-'What?—the strath here?'
-
-'Yes.'
-
-'I suppose they would call it part of Strath-Naver.'
-
-The mere mention of Strath-Naver struck a chill to her
-heart. It recalled to her how she had betrayed him by
-sending those harmless verses across the Atlantic, and
-subjecting them to the insolence of a nincompoop's patronage.
-And if Ronald should ever get to know? Might not some
-busybody send him a copy of the paper? These Scotch
-people had so many relatives and friends all through the
-States. Or perhaps his brother in Glasgow might have
-some correspondent over there? She dared not look him
-in the face, she felt so guilty; and once or twice she was
-almost on the point of confessing everything, and begging
-for his forgiveness, and getting him to promise that he
-would not read the article should it ever be sent to him.
-
-And then it occurred to her as a very strange thing that
-from the moment of Ronald's appearance that morning at
-the loch-side until now she had never even given a thought
-to what had caused her so much annoyance the day before.
-His very presence seemed to bring with it an atmosphere
-of repose and safety and self-confidence. When she had
-seen him go stalking by on the previous night, she had
-instantly said to herself—'Oh, that is not the kind of man
-to worry about what is said of him.' And this morning,
-when he came down to the boat, she had never thought of
-him as a criticised and suffering poet, but as—well, as the
-Ronald that all of them knew and were familiar with—self-reliant,
-good-natured, masterful in his way, and ever ready
-with a laugh and a song and a jest, save when there was
-any young lady there, to make him a little more demure
-and respectful in his manner. Ronald a disappointed
-poet?—Ronald suffering agony because a two-for-a-quarter kind
-of a creature out there in Chicago did not think well of
-him? She ventured to lift her eyes a little. He was not
-looking her way at all. He was regarding the shore
-intently; and there was a quiet and humorous smile on the
-hard-set, sun-tanned face.
-
-'There are six—seven—blackcocks; do ye see them?'
-
-'Oh yes; what handsome birds they are!' she said,
-with a curious sense of relief.
-
-'Ay,' said he, 'the lads are very friendly amongst
-themselves just now; but soon there will be wars and rumours
-of wars when they begin to set up house each for himself.
-There will be many a pitched battle on those knolls there.
-Handsome? Ay, they're handsome enough; but handsome
-is as handsome does. The blackcock is not nearly
-as good a fellow as the grousecock, that stays with his
-family, and protects them, and gives them the first warning
-cry if there's danger. These rascals there wander off by
-themselves, and leave their wives and children to get on as
-they can. They're handsome—but they're ne'er-do-weels.
-There's one thing: the villain has a price put on his head;
-for a man would rather bring down one old cock thumping
-on the grass than fill his bag with gray hens.'
-
-A disappointed poet indeed! And she was so glad to
-find him talking in his usual half-bantering careless fashion
-(that he should talk in any other way was only a wild
-suggestion of her own conscience, struck with a qualm on the
-mention of Strath-Naver) that she made many inquiries
-about the habits of black game and similar creatures; and
-was apparently much interested; and all the while was
-vowing within herself that she would think no more of the
-mortifying disappointment she had met with, but would
-give up this last day on the loch wholly to such fancies and
-quiet amusements as she would like to look back upon in
-after hours.
-
-And a very pleasant day they spent in this still, silent,
-beautiful region, cut off from all of the world, as it were.
-There were plenty of trout, and therefore there was plenty
-of occupation; moreover, one or two good-sized sea-trout
-added to the value of the basket. Nor was this solitary
-district quite so untenanted as she had supposed. About
-mid-day it occurred to her that she was becoming hungry
-and then the wild reflection flashed on her that the lunch
-was in the other boat—some eight miles away. She
-confided her perplexity—her despair—to Ronald.
-
-'It is my fault,' he said, with vexation very visible in
-his face. 'I should have remembered. But—but—' he
-added timidly—for he was not accustomed to ministering
-to the wants of young ladies—'I could get ye some bread
-and a drink of milk, if that would do.'
-
-'What, right here?'
-
-'Yes.'
-
-'Why, nothing could be better!'
-
-They were rowing the boat ashore by this time; and
-when they had got to land, he leaped on to the beach, and
-presently disappeared. In little more than a quarter of an
-hour he was back again, bringing with him a substantial
-loaf of home-made bread and a large jug of milk.
-
-'Well done!' she said. 'There's plenty for all of us.
-Lend me your knife, Ronald.'
-
-'Oh no,' said he, 'it's for you.'
-
-And a hard fight she had of it ere she could get the
-two men to accept a fair division; but she had her way in
-the end; and Ronald, seeing that she was determined they
-should share the milk also (she drank first, and handed the
-jug to him quite as a matter of course), swiftly and stealthily
-pulled off the cup from his whisky-flask, and old Malcolm
-and he drank from that, pouring the milk into it from the
-jug. It was a frugal picnic; but she was very happy; and
-she was telling him that when he came to Chicago, and
-they were showing him the beauties of Lake Michigan,
-they might give him a grander luncheon than this, but none
-more comfortable.
-
-In the afternoon they set out for home, picking up a
-few more trout by the way; and when they at length drew
-near to the upper waters of the lake they found the other
-boat still pursuing its unwearied round. Moreover
-Mr. Hodson's strict attention to business had been rewarded
-by the capture of a handsome fish of sixteen pounds;
-whereas they had nothing but a miscellaneous collection
-of brown and white trout. But, just as they were thinking
-of going ashore, for the dusk was now coming on, a most
-extraordinary piece of luck befell them. Miss Carry was
-scarcely thinking of the rods when the sudden shriek of
-one of the reels startled her out of her idle contemplation.
-
-'Surely that is a salmon, Ronald!' she cried, as she
-instantly grasped the rod and got it up.
-
-He did not stay to answer, for his business was to get
-in the other line as fast as possible. But he had just got
-this second rod into his hand when lo! there was a tugging
-and another scream of a reel—there was now a salmon at
-each of the lines! It was a position of the direst danger—for
-a single cross rush of either of the fish must inevitably
-break both off—and how were they to be kept separate,
-with both rods confined to one boat? Ronald did not lose
-his head.
-
-'Row ashore, Malcolm—row ashore, man!' he shouted—'fast
-as ever ye can, man!'
-
-Nor did he wait until the bow had touched land; he
-slipped over the edge of the boat while as yet the water
-was deep enough to take him up to the waist; and away
-he waded, taking the one rod with him, and slowly increasing
-the distance between the two fish. By the time he got
-ashore there was a hundred yards or so between them,
-and he did not attempt to play this salmon at all; he gave
-it plenty of law; and merely waited to see the end of Miss
-Carry's struggle.
-
-She hardly knew what had happened, except that Ronald's
-going away had left her very nervous and excited and
-helpless. How was she ever to land a fish unless he was at
-her shoulder directing her? But by this time old Malcolm
-had jammed the bow of the boat on to the beach, had got
-in the oars, and now sate patiently waiting, clip in hand.
-
-The fish was not a very game one, though he was no kelt.
-
-'Put a good strain on him, Miss,' said old Malcolm—who
-had been taking a sly look round. 'Ronald's keeping
-the other one for ye.'
-
-'What do you say?' she called to him—rather breathlessly.
-
-'Ronald will be wanting ye to play the other fish too,'
-said the old man. 'And a wonderful fine thing, if we can
-get them both—oh yes, indeed. It is not an ordinary
-thing to hook two salmon at once and land them both—I
-wass neffer seeing that done except once before.'
-
-'Beast!' she said, between her teeth—for the fish made
-a desperate rush away out into the loch, with a magnificent
-flourish in the air as a finish. But no harm was done;
-indeed, it was about his last strong effort to free himself.
-Yard after yard of the line was got in again; his struggles
-to get away grew less and less vigorous; at last the old
-Highlander made an adventurous swoop with the clip, and
-was successful in landing the brilliant creature in the bottom
-of the boat.
-
-'Now, Miss,' he cried, 'leave him to me—leave him to
-me. Quick, get ashore, and try for the other one. And
-will you take the clip?'
-
-He was greatly excited by this unusual adventure; and
-so was she—and breathless, moreover; but she managed
-to do as she was bid. She got rather wet in getting ashore;
-for Ronald was not there to help her; but she had no time
-to mind that; she made her way as rapidly as she could
-along the bank, and there was Ronald awaiting her, with a
-quiet smile on his face.
-
-'This is better work,' said he placidly, as he gave her
-the rod.
-
-She was anxious no longer; she was triumphant. Ronald
-was with her; of course she would get this one also. And
-who but Ronald would have brought such a stroke of luck
-to the boat?
-
-'I would get in some of the line now,' said he calmly.
-'I have been letting him do as he liked; and he is a long
-way out. And mind, you'll have to watch him; he is quite
-fresh; there has been no fighting at all yet.'
-
-'Oh, Ronald,' she said, with the pretty pale face grown
-quite rosy with the excitement and the hard work, 'won't
-it be just too splendid for anything if we can get them both!'
-
-'I hope ye may,' he said, 'for it's not likely to happen
-again in your lifetime.'
-
-The fish now began to rebel against the new strain that
-was being put on him, and indulged in a variety of audacious
-cantrips—apparently at a considerable distance out. By
-this time the other boat was also ashore, and Miss Carry's
-father came along to see how Ronald's pupil could play a
-salmon. Just as he drew near, there was a pretty lively
-scrimmage going on.
-
-'Why, you want to have them all,' he complained. 'It
-is not fair sport to bag a brace of salmon right and left.'
-
-She did not answer—in fact, she could not; she had
-enough to do. For now the salmon seemed wanting to
-get right out to the middle of the lake; and the length of
-line that lay between her and her enemy dragged heavily
-on her arms. And then he altered his tactics—coming
-rapidly to the surface and trying to break the suddenly
-slackened line by furious lashings of his tail. But all this
-was in vain; and now, as he seemed yielding a little, she
-put a heavier strain on him, and began to reel up. It was
-very well done, and without a word of admonition; for
-Ronald was proud of his pupil, and wished to show that he
-could leave her to herself.
-
-By and by the fish began to show himself a little more
-amenable, and preparations were made for receiving him
-on shore. Miss Carry stepped back a few yards; her
-father got out of the way altogether; Ronald crouched
-down, clip in hand. Of course, when the salmon found
-himself being guided into the shallows, he was off like a
-bolt; and again and again he repeated these sullen rushes;
-but each time they were growing weaker; and at last, as
-the gleam of something white showed in the water, Ronald
-made a sudden plunge with the clip—and the salmon was
-ashore.
-
-He laughed.
-
-'I suppose this will be my last day on the loch, and a
-very good finish it is.'
-
-The men brought along the other fish, and these were
-all laid out on the grass side by side, though it was now
-too dark to see much of them. As regards the three
-salmon, Mr. Hodson's, on being accurately weighed, was
-found to be sixteen and a half pounds, Miss Carry's two
-respectively fourteen pounds and eleven pounds. She was
-a very happy young woman as she walked home with her
-father and Ronald through the now rapidly gathering dusk.
-
-His last day on the lake:—well, it would be something
-pleasant to look back upon in after times—the summer-like
-weather, the still water, the silent and sunlit crags and woods
-and bays. And perhaps, too, he would remember something
-of her bright society, her friendly disposition, and the
-frank good-comradeship with which she shared her meal of
-milk and bread with two common boatmen. Nay, he could
-not well help remembering that—and with a touch of
-gratitude and kindness, too—even though they should never
-meet again through the long years of life.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE PARTING`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER VIII.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- THE PARTING.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Now amid all his preparations for departure nothing
-distressed him so much as the difficulty he found in trying to
-write something worthy of being placed in Meenie's book.
-It was to be his last gift to her; she herself had asked for
-it; surely he ought to do his best? And perhaps it was
-this very anxiety that baffled him. Even of such small
-lyrical faculty as he possessed, he was in no sense the
-master. He could write easily enough at the instigation
-of some passing fancy; but the fancy had to come uncalled-for;
-it was not of his summoning. And now, in this hour
-of direst need, no kindly Ariel would come to help him.
-Walking across the lonely moors, with the dogs for his sole
-companions, or lying on a far hillside, and tearing twigs of
-heather with his teeth, he worried his brain for a subject,
-and all to no purpose. Perhaps, if praise of Meenie had
-been permissible—if he could have dared to write anything
-about herself in her own book—he might have found the
-task more easy; for that was the one direction in which
-his imagination was always facile enough. One morning,
-indeed, when he was coming down the Clebrig slopes, he
-saw Miss Carry and Meenie walking together along the
-road; and he had not much difficulty in shaping out some
-such verses as these—jingling the rhymes together without
-much concern about the sense, and then scribbling the
-result on the back of an envelope to see how it looked:
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | By Mudal's river she idly strayed,
- | And drank afresh the morning breeze:
- | Tell me, you beautiful dark-eyed maid,
- | That's come across the Atlantic seas—
- |
- | See you our winsome Sutherland flower,
- | Her cheek the tint of the summer rose,
- | Her gold-brown hair her only dower,
- | Her soul as white as Ben Clebrig's snows;
- |
- | Blue as the ruffled loch her eyes,
- | Sweet her breath as the blossoming heather:
- | O do you think the whole world's skies
- | Can see aught fairer than you together?
- |
- | Sisters twain—one slender and dark,
- | Her cheek faint-tanned by the tropic south;
- | One northern bred, her voice like a lark,
- | The joy of the hills in her gladsome youth.
- |
- | Ben Clebrig shall judge—nay, shall keep the two,
- | And bind them in chains of love for ever;
- | Look to it, Clebrig; guard them true:
- | Sisters twain—and why should they sever?
- |
-
-But even here there was a false note; and he knew it.
-Perhaps he was vaguely jealous of any alien interference:
-was not Meenie the sole and only care of the giant
-mountain? Anyhow, the verses were of no avail for
-Meenie's book; and otherwise he did not care for them;
-so the envelope was crumpled up and thrown away.
-
-On the evening before the brother and sister were to
-leave for the south, Meenie came along to see them.
-Ronald had got quite accustomed to find Miss Douglas in
-the house of late; for Maggie needed a good deal of
-direction and help—the tearful little lass being sorely
-distraught at the thought of going away. But on this
-occasion it was himself she had come to seek.
-
-'I have made a little drawing for you, Ronald,' said she—and
-the beautiful Highland eyes were downcast a little—'as
-well as I could, of the loch and the hills and the
-river; and I want you to take it to Glasgow with you, and
-put it on the mantelpiece of your room, and then sometimes
-it will make you think of the old place and of us all.'
-
-'I'm sure, it will not need a picture to make me do that,'
-said he, 'but all the same I am obliged to ye, and it will
-be the chief treasure in the house——'
-
-'Oh no, oh no,' she said, with a rueful smile—and
-she ventured to raise her eyes. 'You must not think it a
-picture at all—but only a few lines scribbled on a
-paper-knife to make you remember the place when you happen
-to find it lying about. And you must not look at it until
-I have gone, because you would feel bound to praise it;
-and that would be as awkward for you as for me—for
-indeed it is nothing at all. And here,' she added, producing
-a small slip of paper, 'is my sister's address in Glasgow;
-and I have written to her; and she will be very glad if you
-will call on them when you have the time.'
-
-'I don't know how to thank ye,' said he. 'It's when
-people are going away that they find out how many friends
-they are leaving behind.'
-
-'In your case' said she, very modestly and prettily, 'it
-is not difficult to count—you have only to say the whole
-country-side.' And then she added: 'I heard of the lads
-that came all the way from Tongue.'
-
-'The wild fellows!—they had a long tramp here and
-back home again.'
-
-She looked at him rather hesitatingly.
-
-'There will be a great many coming to see you off
-to-morrow morning, Ronald,' she said.
-
-'I should think not—I should think not,' he said.
-
-'Oh, but I know there will be. Every one is talking of
-it. And I was thinking—if it was not too much trouble—if
-you were not too busy—I was wondering if you would
-come along and say good-bye to my father and mother this
-evening—I would rather have that than—than—with a
-crowd of people standing by——'
-
-'Oh yes, certainly,' he said, at once. 'When will I
-come? Now, if ye like.'
-
-'And Maggie too?'
-
-'Yes, yes, why not?'
-
-'And about my album, Ronald?'
-
-'Well,' said he, with not a little embarrassment, 'I have
-not written anything in it yet; but I will give it to you in
-the morning; and—and if there's nothing in it, then ye
-must just understand that I could not get anything good
-enough, and I will send something from Glasgow——'
-
-'Indeed no,' said she promptly. 'Why should you
-trouble about a thing like that? Write your name in the
-book, Ronald, and that will be enough.'
-
-The three of them now went outside, and the door was
-shut behind them. It was a beautiful night; the moon
-was slowly rising over the solitudes of Strath-Terry; and
-the lake was like a sheet of silver. They were rather
-silent as they walked along the gray highway; to-morrow
-was to make a difference to all of their lives.
-
-When they reached the Doctor's cottage, and when
-Ronald and Maggie were ushered into the parlour, it was
-clear that the visit had been expected; for there was cake
-on the table, and there were plates and knives, and a
-decanter of sherry, and a number of wine-glasses. And
-not only was the big good-humoured Doctor as friendly as
-ever, but even the awe-inspiring little Dresden-china lady
-condescended, in these unusual circumstances, to be gracious.
-Of course the talk was all about Ronald's going away, and
-his prospects in Glasgow, and so forth; and Mrs. Douglas
-took care to impress him with the fact that, on the occasion
-of Lord Ailine having recently spent an evening with them,
-his lordship had distinctly approved of the step Ronald
-had taken, and hoped it might turn out well in every way.
-
-'Will there be any office work, Ronald?' the Doctor asked.
-
-'I suppose so, for a time.'
-
-'You'll not like that, my lad.'
-
-'I'll have to take what comes, like other folk,' was the
-simple answer.
-
-How pretty Meenie was on this last evening! She did
-not say much; and she hardly ever looked at him; but
-her presence, then as ever, seemed to bring with it an
-atmosphere of gentleness and sweetness; and when, by
-chance, she did happen to regard him, there was a kind of
-magic wonder in her eyes that for the moment rather
-bedazzled him and made his answers to these good people's
-inquiries somewhat inconsecutive. For they were curious
-to know about his plans and schemes; and showed much
-interest in his welfare; while all the time he sate thinking
-of how strange Glasgow would be without the chance of
-catching a glimpse of Meenie anywhere; and wondering
-whether his dream-sweetheart—the imaginary Meenie whom
-he courted and wooed and won in these idle verses of
-his—would be nearer to him there, or would fade gradually
-away and finally disappear.
-
-'In any case, Ronald,' said Mrs. Douglas—and she
-thus addressed him for the first time, 'you have a good
-friend in his lordship.'
-
-'I know that.'
-
-'I suppose I am breaking no confidence,' continued
-the little dame, in her grand way, 'in saying that he plainly
-intimated to us his willingness, supposing that you were
-not as successful as we all hope you may be—I say, his
-lordship plainly intimated to us that he would always have
-a place open for you somewhere.'
-
-'Yes, I think he would do that,' Ronald said; 'but
-when a man has once put his hand to the plough he must
-not go back.'
-
-And perhaps, for one feeble moment of indecision, he
-asked himself what had ever tempted him to put his hand
-to the plough, and to go away from this quiet security
-and friendliness and peace. But it was only for a moment.
-Of course, all that had been argued out before. The step
-had been taken; forwards, and not backwards, he must go.
-Still, to be sitting in this quiet little room—with the strange
-consciousness that Meenie was so near—watching the
-nimble, small fingers busy with her knitting—and wondering
-when she would raise those beautiful, deep, tender, clear
-eyes; and to think that on the morrow hour after hour
-would be placing a greater and greater distance between
-him and the possibility of any such another evening—nay,
-that it was not only miles but years, and perhaps a
-whole lifetime, that he was placing between her and
-him—that was no joyful kind of a fancy. If it had been Meenie
-who was going away, that would have been easier to bear.
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'Call her back, Clebrig; Mudal, call;
- | Ere all of the young springtime be flown'
-
-he would have cried to hill and river and loch and glen,
-knowing that sooner or later Love Meenie would come
-back from Glasgow Town. But his own going away was
-very different—and perhaps a final thing.
-
-By and by he rose, and begged to be excused. Maggie
-might stay for a while longer with Miss Douglas, if she
-liked; as for him, he had some matters to attend to.
-And so they bade him good-bye, and wished him well,
-and hoped to hear all good things of him. Thus they
-parted; and he went out by himself into the clear
-moonlight night.
-
-But he did not go home. A strange unrest and longing
-had seized him; a desire to be alone with the silence of
-the night; perhaps some angry impatience that he could
-not make out so much as a few trivial verses for this
-beautiful girl-friend whom he might never see again. He
-could write about his dream-sweetheart easily enough; and
-was there to be never a word for Meenie herself? So he
-walked down to the river; and wandered along the winding
-and marshy banks—startling many wildfowl the while—until
-he reached the lake. There he launched one of the
-cobles, and pulled out to the middle of the still sheet of
-water; and took the oars in again. By this time the
-redshank and curlews and plover had quieted down once
-more; there was a deadly stillness all around; and he had
-persuaded himself that he had only come to have a last
-look at the hills and the loch and the moorland wastes
-that Meenie had made magical for him in the years now
-left behind; and to bid farewell to these; and carry away
-in his memory a beautiful picture of them.
-
-It was a lonely and a silent world. There was not a
-sound save the distant murmur of a stream; no breath of
-wind came down from the Clebrig slopes to ruffle the broad
-silver sweeps of moonlight on the water; the tiny hamlet
-half hidden among the trees gave no sign of life. The
-cottage he had left—the white front of it now palely clear
-in the distance—seemed a ghostly thing: a small, solitary,
-forsaken thing, in the midst of this vast amphitheatre of
-hills that stood in awful commune with the stars. On such
-a night the wide and vacant spaces can readily become
-peopled; phantoms issue from the shadows of the woods
-and grow white in the open; an unknown wind may arise,
-bringing with it strange singing from the northern seas.
-And if he forgot the immediate purpose of the verses that
-he wanted; if he forgot that he must not mention the
-name of Meenie; if he saw only the little cottage, and the
-moonlit loch, and the giant bulk of Clebrig that was keeping
-guard over the sleeping hamlet, and watching that no sprites
-or spectres should work their evil charms within reach of
-Meenie's half-listening ear—well, it was all a fire in his blood
-and his brain, and he could not stay to consider. The
-phantom-world was revealed; the silence now was filled as
-with a cry from the lone seas of the far north; and, all
-impatient and eager and half bewildered, he seemed to
-press forward to seize those visions and that weird music
-ere both should vanish and be mute:—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | The moonlight lies on Loch Naver,
- | And the night is strange and still;
- | And the stars are twinkling coldly
- | Above the Clebrig hill.
- |
- | And there by the side of the water,
- | O what strange shapes are these!
- | O these are the wild witch-maidens
- | Down from the northern seas.
- |
- | And they stand in a magic circle,
- | Pale in the moonlight sheen;
- | And each has over her forehead
- | A star of golden green.
- |
- | O what is their song?—of sailors
- | That never again shall sail;
- | And the music sounds like the sobbing
- | And sighing that brings a gale.
- |
- | But who is she who comes yonder?—
- | And all in white is she;
- | And her eyes are open, but nothing
- | Of the outward world can she see.
- |
- | O haste you back, Meenie, haste you,
- | And haste to your bed again;
- | For these are the wild witch-maidens
- | Down from the northern main.
- |
- | They open the magic circle;
- | They draw her into the ring;
- | They kneel before her, and slowly
- | A strange, sad song they sing—
- |
- | A strange, sad song—as of sailors
- | That never again shall sail;
- | And the music sounds like the sobbing
- | And sighing that brings a gale.
- |
- | O haste you back, Meenie, haste you,
- | And haste to your bed again;
- | For these are the wild witch-maidens
- | Down from the northern main.
- |
- | 'O come with us, rose-white Meenie,
- | To our sea-halls draped with green:
- | O come with us, rose-white Meenie,
- | And be our rose-white queen!
- |
- | 'And you shall have robes of splendour,
- | With shells and pearls bestrewn;
- | And a sceptre olden and golden,
- | And a rose-white coral throne.
- |
- | 'And by day you will hear the music
- | Of the ocean come nigher and nigher:
- | And by night you will see your palace
- | Ablaze with phosphor fire.
- |
- | 'O come with us, rose-white Meenie,
- | To our sea-halls draped with green;
- | O come with us, rose-white Meenie,
- | And be our rose-white queen!'
- |
- | But Clebrig heard; and the thunder
- | Down from his iron hand sped;
- | And the band of the wild witch-maidens
- | One swift shriek uttered, and fled.
- |
- | And Meenie awoke, and terror
- | And wonder were in her eyes;
- | And she looked at the moon-white valley,
- | And she looked to the starlit skies.
- |
- | O haste you back, Meenie, haste you,
- | And haste to your bed again;
- | For these are the wild witch-maidens
- | Down from the northern main.
- |
- | O hear you not yet their singing
- | Come faintly back on the breeze?—
- | The song of the wild witch-sisters
- | As they fly to the Iceland seas.
- |
- | O hark—'tis a sound like the sobbing
- | And sighing that brings a gale:
- | A low, sad song—as of sailors
- | That never again shall sail!
- |
-
-Slowly he pulled in to the shore again, and fastened up
-the boat; and slowly he walked away through the silent
-and moonlit landscape, revolving these verses in his mind,
-but not trying in the least to estimate their value, supposing
-them to have any at all. Even when he had got home, and
-in the stillness of his own room—for by this time Maggie
-had gone to bed—was writing out the lines, with apparent
-ease enough, on a large sheet of paper, it was with no kind
-of critical doubt or anxiety. He could not have written
-them otherwise; probably he knew he was not likely to
-make them any better by over-refining them. And the
-reason why he put them down on the large sheet of paper
-was that Meenie's name occurred in them; and she might
-not like that familiarity to appear in her album; he would
-fold the sheet of paper and place it in the book, and she
-could let it remain there or burn it as she chose. And
-then he went and had his supper, which Maggie had left
-warm by the fire, and thereafter lit a pipe—or rather two
-or three pipes, as it befel, for this was the last night before
-his leaving Inver-Mudal, and there were many dreams and
-reveries (and even fantastic possibilities) to be dismissed for
-ever.
-
-The next morning, of course, there was no time or room
-for poetic fancies. When he had got Maggie to take along
-the little book to the Doctor's cottage, he set about making
-his final preparations, and here he was assisted by his
-successor, one Peter Munro. Finally he went to say
-good-bye to the dogs.
-
-'Good-bye, doggies, good-bye,' said he, as they came
-bounding to the front of the kennel, pawing at him through
-the wooden bars, and barking and whining, and trying to
-lick his hand. 'Good-bye, Bess! Good-bye, Lugar—lad,
-lad, we've had many a day on the hill together.'
-
-And then he turned sharply to his companion.
-
-'Ye'll not forget what I told you about that dog, Peter?'
-
-'I will not,' said the other.
-
-'If I thought that dog was not to be looked after, I
-would get out my rifle this very minute and put a bullet
-through his head—though it would cost me £7. Mind
-what I've told ye now; if he's not fed separate, he'll starve;
-he's that gentle and shy that he'll not go near the trough
-when the others are feeding. And a single cross word on
-the hill will spoil him for the day—mind you tell any strange
-gentlemen that come up with his lordship—some o' them
-keep roaring at dogs as if they were bull-calves. There's
-not a better setter in the county of Sutherland than that
-old Lugar—but he wants civil treatment.'
-
-'I'll look after him, never fear, Ronald,' his companion
-said. 'And now come away, man. Ye've seen to everything;
-and the mail-gig will be here in half an hour.'
-
-Ronald was still patting the dogs' heads, and talking to
-them—he seemed loth to leave them.
-
-'Come away, man,' his companion urged. 'All the lads
-are at the inn, and they want to have a parting glass with you.
-Your sister and every one is there, and everything is ready.'
-
-'Very well,' said he, and he turned away rather moodily.
-
-But when they were descended from the little plateau
-into the highway he saw that Meenie Douglas was coming
-along the road—and rather quickly; and for a minute he
-hesitated, lest she should have some message for him.
-
-'Oh, Ronald,' she said, and he hardly noticed that her
-face was rather pale and anxious, 'I wanted to thank
-you—I could not let you go away without thanking you—it—it
-is so beautiful——'
-
-'I should beg your pardon,' said he, with his eyes cast
-down, 'for making use of your short name——'
-
-'But, Ronald,' she said very bravely (though after a
-moment's hesitation, as if she had to nerve herself),
-'whenever you think of any of us here, I hope you will think of
-me by that name always—and now, good-bye!'
-
-He lifted his eyes to hers for but a second—for but a
-second only, and yet, perhaps, with some sudden and
-unforeseen and farewell message on his part, and on hers some
-swift and not overglad guessing.
-
-'Good-bye!'
-
-They shook hands in silence, and then she turned and
-went away; and he rejoined his companion and then they
-went on together. But Meenie did not re-enter the cottage.
-She stole away down to the river, and lingered by the bridge,
-listening. For there were faint sounds audible in the still
-morning air.
-
-The mail-cart from the north came rattling along, and
-crossed the bridge, and went on towards the inn, and again
-there was silence, but for these faint sounds. And now
-she could make out the thin echoes of the pipes—no doubt
-one of the young lads was playing—*Lochiel's away to
-France*, perhaps, or *A Thousand Blessings*, for surely no
-one, on such an occasion, would think of *Macrimmon's
-Lament*—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'Macrimmon shall no more return
- | Oh! never, never more return!'
- |
-
-It would be something joyous they were playing there to
-speed him on his way; and the 'drink at the door'—the
-*Deoch an Dhoruis*—would be going the round; and many
-would be the hand-shaking and farewell. And then, by
-and by, as she sate there all alone and listening, she heard
-a faint sound of cheering—and that was repeated, in a
-straggling sort of fashion; and thereafter there was silence.
-The mail-cart had driven away for the south.
-
-Nor even now did she go back to the cottage. She
-wandered away through the wild moorland wastes—hour
-after hour, and aimlessly; and when, by chance, a shepherd
-or crofter came along the road, she left the highway and
-went aside among the heather, pretending to seek for wild-flowers
-or the like: for sometimes, if not always, there was
-that in the beautiful, tender Highland eyes which she would
-have no stranger see.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`SOUTHWARDS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER IX.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- SOUTHWARDS.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-As for him, it was a sufficiently joyous departure; for some
-of the lads about were bent on accompanying him on the
-mail-car as far as Lairg; and they took with them John
-Macalpine and his weather-worn pipes to cheer them by
-the way; and at Crask they each and all of them had a
-glass of whisky; and on the platform at Lairg railway-station
-the clamour of farewell was great. And even when
-he had got quit of that noisy crew, and was in the
-third-class compartment, and thundering away to the south, his
-thoughts and fancies were eager and ardent and glad
-enough; and his brain was busy with pictures; and these
-were altogether of a joyful and hopeful kind. Already he
-saw himself on that wide estate—somewhere or other in
-the Highlands he fondly trusted; draining and planting
-and enclosing here; there pruning and thinning and
-felling; manufacturing charcoal and tar; planning temporary
-roads and bridges; stacking bark and faggots; or discussing
-with the head-keeper as to the desirability or non-desirability
-of reintroducing capercailzie. And if the young American
-lady and her father should chance to come that way, would
-he not have pleasure and pride in showing them over the
-place?—nay, his thoughts went farther afield, and he saw
-before him Chicago, with its masts and its mighty lake, and
-himself not without a friendly grip of welcome on getting
-there. As for Meenie, where would she be in those coming
-and golden and as yet distant days? Far away from him,
-no doubt; and what else could he expect?—for now he
-saw her among the fine folk assembled at the shooting-lodge
-in Glengask—and charming all of them with her
-sweet and serious beauty and her gentle ways—and again
-he pictured her seated on the white deck of Sir Alexander's
-yacht, a soft south wind filling the sails, and the happy
-gray-blue Highland eyes looking forward contentedly enough
-to the yellow line of the Orosay shore. That was to be
-her future—fair and shining; for always he had associated
-Meenie with beautiful things—roses, the clear tints of the
-dawn, the singing of a lark in the blue; and who could
-doubt that her life would continue so, through these bright
-and freshly-coming years?
-
-Yes, it was a glad enough departure for him; for he
-was busy and eager, and only anxious to set to work at
-once. But by and by, when the first novelty and
-excitement of the travelling was beginning to wear off, he
-suddenly discovered that the little Maggie, seated in the
-corner there, was stealthily crying.
-
-'What, what, lass?' said he cheerfully. 'What is it now?'
-
-She did not answer; and so he had to set to work to
-comfort her; making light of the change; painting in
-glowing colours all that lay before them; and promising
-that she should write to Miss Douglas a complete account
-of all her adventures in the great city. He was not very
-successful, for the little lass was sorely grieved over the
-parting from the few friends she had in the world; but at
-least it was an occupation; and perhaps in convincing her
-he was likewise convincing himself that all was for the best,
-and proving that people should be well content to leave
-the monotony and dulness of a Highland village for the
-wide opportunities of Glasgow.
-
-But even he, with all his eager hopes and ambitions,
-was chilled to the heart when at last they drew near to the
-giant town. They had spent the night in Inverness, for he
-had some business to transact there on behalf of Lord
-Ailine; and now it was afternoon—an afternoon dull and
-dismal, with an east wind blowing that made even the
-outlying landscape they had come through dreary and
-hopeless. Then, as they got nearer to the city, such
-suggestions of the country as still remained grew more and
-more grim; there were patches of sour-looking grass
-surrounded by damp stone walls; gaunt buildings
-soot-begrimed and gloomy; and an ever-increasing blue-gray
-mist pierced by tall chimneys that were almost spectral in
-the dulled light. He had been to Glasgow before, but
-chiefly on one or two swift errands connected with guns
-and game and fishing-rods; and he did not remember
-having found it so very melancholy-looking a place as this
-was. He was rather silent as he got ready for leaving the
-train.
-
-He found his brother Andrew awaiting them; and he
-had engaged a cab, for a slight drizzle had begun.
-Moreover, he said he had secured for Ronald a lodging right
-opposite the station; and thither the younger brother
-forthwith transferred his things; then he came down the
-hollow-resounding stone stair again, and got into the cab,
-and set out for the Reverend Andrew's house, which was
-on the south side of the city.
-
-And what a fierce and roaring Maelstrom was this into
-which they now were plunged! The dusky crowds of
-people, the melancholy masses of dark-hued buildings, the
-grimy flagstones, all seemed more or less phantasmal
-through the gray veil of mist and smoke; but always there
-arose the harsh and strident rattle of the tram-cars and the
-waggons and carts—a confused, commingled, unending
-din that seemed to fill the brain somehow and bewilder
-one. It appeared a terrible place this, with its cold gray
-streets and hazy skies, and its drizzle of rain; when, in
-course of time, they crossed a wide bridge, and caught a
-glimpse of the river and the masts and funnels of some
-ships and steamers, these were all ghost-like in the thin,
-ubiquitous fog. Ronald did not talk much, for the
-unceasing turmoil perplexed and confused him; and so the stout,
-phlegmatic minister, whose bilious-hued face and gray eyes
-were far from being unkindly in their expression, addressed
-himself mostly to the little Maggie, and said that Rosina
-and Alexandra and Esther and their brother James were
-all highly pleased that she was coming to stay with them,
-and also assured her that Glasgow did not always look so
-dull and miserable as it did then.
-
-At length they stopped in front of a house in a long,
-unlovely, neutral-tinted street; and presently two rather
-weedy-looking girls, who turned out to be Rosina and
-Alexandra, were at the door, ready to receive the
-new-comers. Of course it was Maggie who claimed their first
-attention; and she was carried off to her own quarters to
-remove the stains of travel (and of tears) from her face; as
-for Ronald, he was ushered at once into the parlour, where
-his sister-in-law—a tall, thin woman, with a lachrymose
-face, but with sufficiently watchful eyes—greeted him in a
-melancholy way, and sighed, and introduced him to the
-company. That consisted of a Mr. M'Lachlan—a large,
-pompous-looking person, with a gray face and short-cropped
-white hair, whose cool stare of observation and
-lofty smile of patronage instantly made Ronald say to
-himself, 'My good friend, we shall have to put you into your
-proper place;' Mrs. M'Lachlan, an insignificant woman,
-dowdily dressed; and finally, Mr. Weems, a little, old,
-withered man, with a timid and appealing look coming
-from under bushy black eyebrows—though the rest of his
-hair was gray. This Mr. Weems, as Ronald knew, was in
-a kind of fashion to become his coach. The poor old
-man had been half-killed in a railway-accident; had thus
-been driven from active duty; and now, with a shattered
-constitution and a nervous system all gone to bits, managed
-to live somehow on the interest of the compensation-sum
-awarded him by the railway-company. He did not look
-much of a hardy forester; but if his knowledge of land and
-timber measuring and surveying, and of book-keeping and
-accounts, was such as to enable him to give this stalwart
-pupil a few practical lessons, so far well; and even the
-moderate recompense would doubtless be a welcome
-addition to his income.
-
-And now this high occasion was to be celebrated by a
-'meat-tea,' for the Reverend Andrew was no stingy person,
-though his wife had sighed and sighed again over the
-bringing into the house of a new mouth to feed. Maggie
-came downstairs, accompanied by the other members of
-the family; Mr. M'Lachlan was invited to sit at his
-hostess's right hand; the others of them took their seats
-in due course; and the minister pronounced a long and
-formal blessing, which was not without a reference or two
-to the special circumstances of their being thus brought
-together. And if the good man spoke apparently under
-the assumption that the Deity had a particular interest in
-this tea-meeting in Abbotsford Place, it was assuredly
-without a thought of irreverence; to himself the occasion
-was one of importance; and the way of his life led him
-to have continual—and even familiar—communion with
-the unseen Powers.
-
-But it was not Ronald's affairs that were to be the
-staple of conversation at this somewhat melancholy
-banquet. It very soon appeared that Mr. M'Lachlan was an
-elder—and a ruling elder, unmistakably—of Andrew
-Strang's church, and he had come prepared with a notable
-proposal for wiping off the debt of the same.
-
-'Ah'm not wan that'll gang back from his word,' he
-said, in his pompous and raucous voice, and he leaned
-back in his chair, and crossed his hands over his capacious
-black satin waistcoat, and gazed loftily on his audience.
-'Wan hundred pounds—there it is, as sure as if it was in
-my pocket this meenit—and there it'll be when ye get fower
-ither members o' the congregation to pit doon their fifty
-pounds apiece. Not but that there's several in the church
-abler than me to pit doon as much; but ye ken how it is,
-Mr. Strang, the man makes the money and the woman
-spends it; and there's mair than one family we ken o'
-that should come forrit on an occasion like this, but that
-the money rins through the fingers o' a feckless wife.
-What think ye, noo, o' Mrs. Nicol setting up her powny-carriage,
-and it's no nine years since Geordie had to make
-a composition? And they tell me that Mrs. Paton's lasses,
-when they gang doon the waiter—and not for one month
-in the year will they let that house o' theirs at Dunoon—they
-tell me that the pairties and dances they have is jist
-extraordinar' and the wastry beyond a' things. Ay, it's
-them that save and scrimp and deny themselves that's
-expected to do everything in a case like this—notwithstanding
-it's a public debt—mind, it's a public debt, binding
-on the whole congregation; but what ah say ah'll
-stand to—there's wan hundred pounds ready, when there's
-fower ithers wi' fifty pounds apiece—that's three hundred
-pounds—and wi' such an example before them, surely the
-rest o' the members will make up the remaining two
-hundred and fifty—surely, surely.'
-
-'It's lending to the Lord,' said the minister's wife sadly,
-as she passed the marmalade to the children.
-
-The conversation now took the form of a discussion as
-to which of the members might reasonably be expected to
-come forward at such a juncture; and as Ronald had no
-part or interest in this matter he made bold to turn to
-Mr. Weems, who sate beside him, and engage him in talk on
-their own account. Indeed, he had rather taken a liking
-for this timorous little man, and wished to know more
-about him and his belongings and occupations; and when
-Mr. Weems revealed to him the great trouble of his life—the
-existence of a shrill-voiced chanticleer in the backyard
-of the cottage adjoining his own, out somewhere in the
-Pollokshaws direction—Ronald was glad to come to his
-help at once.
-
-'Oh, that's all right,' said he. 'I'll shoot him for you.'
-
-But this calm proposal was like to drive the poor little
-man daft with terror. His nervous system suffered cruelly
-from the skirling of the abominable fowl; but even that
-was to be dreaded less than a summons and a prosecution
-and a deadly feud with his neighbour, who was a drunken,
-quarrelsome, cantankerous shoemaker.
-
-'But, God bless me,' Ronald said, 'it's not to be thought
-of that any human being should be tortured like that by a
-brute beast. Well, there's another way o' settling the hash
-o' that screeching thing. You just go and buy a pea-shooter—or
-if one of the laddies will lend you a tin whistle, that
-will do; then go and buy twopence-worth of antibilious
-pills—indeed, I suppose any kind would serve; and then
-fire half a dozen over into the back-yard; my word, when
-the bantam gentleman has picked up these bonny looking
-peas, and swallowed them, he'll no be for flapping his wings
-and crowing, I'm thinking; he'll rather be for singing the
-tune of "Annie Laurie." But maybe you're not a good
-shot with a pea-shooter? Well, I'll come over and do it
-for you early some morning, when the beast's hungry.'
-
-But it was difficult for any one to talk, even in the
-most subdued and modest way, with that harsh and strident
-voice laying down the law at the head of the table. And
-now the large-waistcoated elder was on the subject of the
-temperance movement; arraigning the government for not
-suppressing the liquor-traffic altogether; denouncing the
-callous selfishness of those who were inclined to
-temporise with the devil, and laying at their door all the misery
-caused by the drunkenness of their fellow-creatures; and
-proudly putting in evidence his own position in the city of
-Glasgow—his authority in the church—the regard paid to
-his advice—and the solid, substantial slice of the world's
-gear that he possessed—as entirely due to the fact that he
-had never, not even as a young man, imbibed one drop
-of alcohol. Now Ronald Strang was ordinarily a most
-abstemious person—and no credit to him, nor to any one
-in the like case; for his firm physique and his way of living
-hitherto had equally rendered him independent of any such
-artificial aid (though a glass of whisky on a wet day on the
-hillside did not come amiss to him, and his hard head
-could steer him safely through a fair amount of jollification
-when those wild lads came down from Tongue). But he
-was irritated by that loud and raucous voice; he resented
-the man's arrogance and his domineering over the placid
-and phlegmatic Andrew, who scarcely opened his mouth;
-and here and there he began to put in a sharp saying or
-two that betokened discontent and also a coming storm.
-'They used to say that cleanliness was next to godliness;
-but nowadays ye would put total abstinence half a mile
-ahead of it,' he would say, or something of the kind; and
-in due course these two were engaged in a battle-royal of
-discussion. It shall not be put down here; for who was
-ever convinced—in morals, or art, or literature, or anything
-else—by an argument? it needs only be said that the elder,
-being rather hard pressed, took refuge in Scriptural authority.
-But alas! this was not of much avail; for the whole family
-of the East Lothian farmer (not merely the student one of
-them) had been brought up with exceeding care, and taught
-to give chapter and verse for everything; so that when
-Mr. M'Lachlan sought to crush his antagonist with the bludgeon
-of quotation he found it was only a battledore he had got
-hold of.
-
-'"Wine is a mocker; strong drink is raging; and whosoever
-is deceived thereby is not wise,"' he would say severely.
-
-'"Wine which cheereth God and man,"' the other
-would retort. '"Wine that maketh glad the heart of
-man." What make ye of these?'
-
-'"Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath
-babbling?—they that tarry long at the wine; they that go to
-seek mixed wine." What better authority can we have?'
-
-'Ay, man, the wise king said that; but it wasna his last
-word. "Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish,
-and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts. Let him
-drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery
-no more."'
-
-'The devil quoting Scripture for his own ends,' the
-Reverend Andrew interposed, with a mild facetiousness.
-
-'It's a dreadful thing to hear in a minister's house,'
-said the minister's wife, appealing to her neighbour,
-Mrs. M'Lachlan.
-
-'What is? A verse from the Proverbs of Solomon?'
-Ronald said, turning to her quite good-naturedly.
-
-But instantly he saw that she was distressed, and even
-more lachrymose than ever; and he knew that nothing
-would convince her that he was not a child of wrath and of
-the devil; and he reproached himself for having entered into
-any discussion of any kind whatever in this house, where
-Maggie was to live—he hoped in perfect accord and amity.
-As for himself, he wished only to be out of it. He was not
-in his right element. The vulgar complacency of the rich
-elder irritated him; the melancholy unreason of his
-sister-in-law depressed him. He foresaw that not here was any
-abiding-place for him while he sojourned in the great city.
-
-But how was he to get away? They lingered and
-dawdled over their tea-drinking in a most astonishing
-fashion; his brother being the most intemperate of all of
-them, and obviously accounting thereby for his pallid and
-bilious cheeks. Moreover, they had returned to that fruitful
-topic of talk—the capability of this or the other member
-of the congregation to subscribe to the fund for paying off
-the debt on the church; and as this involved a discussion
-of everybody's ways and means, and of his expenditure, and
-the manner of living of himself, his wife, his sons, and
-daughters and servants, the very air seemed thick with
-trivial and envious tittle-tattle, the women-folk, of course,
-being more loquacious than any.
-
-'Lord help us,' said Ronald to himself, as he sate there
-in silence, 'this house would be a perfect paradise for an
-Income-tax Commissioner.'
-
-However, the fourth or fifth tea-pot was exhausted at
-last; the minister offered up a prolonged thanksgiving; and
-Ronald thought that now he might get away—and out into
-the freer air. But that was not to be as yet. His brother
-observed that it was getting late; that all the members of
-the household were gathered together; and they might
-appropriately have family worship now. So the two servant-girls
-were summoned in to clear the table, and that done,
-they remained; the minister brought the family Bible over
-from the sideboard; and all sate still and attentive, their
-books in their hand, while he sought out the chapter he
-wanted. It was the Eighth of the Epistle to the Romans;
-and he read it slowly and elaborately, but without any word
-of comment or expounding. Then he said that they would
-sing to the praise of the Lord the XCIII. Psalm—himself
-leading off with the fine old tune of *Martyrdom*; and this
-the young people sang very well indeed, though they were
-a little interfered with by the uncertain treble of the married
-women and the bovine baritone of the elder. Thereafter
-the minister offered up a prayer, in which very pointed
-reference was made to the brother and sister who had come
-from the far mountains to dwell within the gates of the
-city; and then all of them rose, and the maidservants
-withdrew, and those remaining who had to go began to get
-ready for their departure.
-
-'Come over and see us soon again,' the minister said to
-him, as they followed him into the lobby; but the minister's
-wife did not repeat that friendly invitation.
-
-'Ronald,' the little Maggie whispered—and her lips
-were rather tremulous, 'if you hear from Meenie, will you
-let me know?'
-
-'But I am not likely to hear from her, lass,' said he,
-with his hand upon her shoulder. 'You must write to her
-yourself, and she will answer, and send ye the news.'
-
-'Mind ye pass the public-houses on the way gaun hame,'
-said the elder, by way of finishing up the evening with a
-joke: Ronald took no notice, but bade the others good-bye,
-and opened the door and went out.
-
-When he got into the street his first startled impression
-was that the world was on fire—all the heavens, but
-especially the southern heavens, were one blaze of soft and
-smoky blood-red, into which the roofs and chimney-stacks
-of the dusky buildings rose solemn and dark. A pulsating
-crimson it was, now dying away slightly, again gleaming up
-with a sudden fervour; and always it looked the more
-strange and bewildering because of the heavy gloom of the
-buildings and the ineffectual lemon-yellow points of the
-gas-lamps. Of course he remembered instantly what this
-must be—the glow of the ironworks over there in the
-south; and presently he had turned his back on that sullen
-radiance, and was making away for the north side of the
-city.
-
-But when he emerged from the comparative quiet of
-the southern thoroughfares into the glare and roar of
-Jamaica Street and Argyll Street, all around him there
-seemed even more of bewilderment than in the daytime.
-The unceasing din of tramway-cars and vans and carts still
-filled the air; but now there was everywhere a fierce yellow
-blaze of gaslight—glowing in the great stocked windows,
-streaming out across the crowded pavements, and shining
-on the huge gilded letters and sprawling advertisements of
-the shops. Then the people—a continuous surge, as of a
-river; the men begrimed for the most part, here and there
-two or three drunk and bawling, the women with cleaner
-faces, but most of them bareheaded, with Highland shawls
-wrapped round their shoulders. The suffused crimson
-glow of the skies was scarcely visible now; this horizontal
-blaze of gas-light killed it; and through the yellow glare
-passed the dusky phantasmagoria of a city's life—the cars
-and horses, the grimy crowds. Buchanan Street, it is true,
-was less noisy; and he walked quickly, glad to get out of
-that terrible din; and by and by, when he got away up to
-Port Dundas Road, where his lodging was, he found the
-world grown quite quiet again, and gloomy and dark, save
-for the solitary gas-lamps and the faint dull crimson glow
-sent across from the southern skies.
-
-He went up the stone stair, was admitted to the house,
-and shown into the apartment that his brother had secured
-for him. It had formerly been used as a sitting-room, with
-a bedroom attached; but now these were separated, and a
-bed was placed at one end of the little parlour, which was
-plainly and not untidily furnished. When his landlady left
-he proceeded to unpack his things, getting out first his
-books, which he placed on the mantel-shelf to be ready for
-use in the morning; then he made some further disposition
-of his belongings; and then—then somehow he fell away
-from this industrious mood, and became more and more
-absent, and at last went idly to the window, and stood
-looking out there. There was not much to be seen—a
-few lights about the Caledonian Railway Station, some
-dusky sheds, and that faint red glow in the sky.
-
-But—Inver-Mudal? Well, if only he had reflected,
-Inver-Mudal must at this moment have been just about as
-dark as was this railway station and the neighbourhood
-surrounding it—unless, indeed, it happened to be a clear
-starlit night away up there in the north, with the heavens
-shining beautiful and benignant over Clebrig, and the loch,
-and the little hamlet among the trees. However, that was
-not the Inver-Mudal he was thinking of; it was the Inver-Mudal
-of a clear spring day, with sweet winds blowing across
-the moors, and the sunlight yellow on Clebrig's slopes, and
-Loch Naver's waters all a rippling and dazzling blue. And
-Mr. Murray standing at the door of the inn, and smoking
-his pipe, and joking with any one that passed; the
-saucy Nelly casting glances among the lads; Harry with
-dark suspicions of rats wherever he could find a hole
-in the wall of the barn; Maggie, under instruction of
-Duncan the ploughman, driving the two horses hauling a
-harrow over the rough red land; everywhere the birds
-singing; the young corn showing green; and then—just
-as the chance might be—Meenie coming along
-the road, her golden-brown hair blown by the wind, her
-eyes about as blue as Loch Naver's shining waters, and
-herself calling, with laughter and scolding, to Maggie to
-desist from that tomboy work. And where was it all gone
-now? He seemed to have shut his eyes upon that beautiful
-clear, joyous world; and to have plunged into a hideous
-and ghastly dream. The roar and yellow glare—the black
-houses—the lurid crimson in the sky—the terrible loneliness
-and silence of this very room—well, he could not quite
-understand it yet. But perhaps it would not always seem
-so bewildering; perhaps one might grow accustomed in
-time?—and teach one's self to forget? And then again
-he had resolved that he would not read over any more the
-verses he had written in the olden days about Meenie, and
-the hills and the streams and the straths that knew her and
-loved her—for these idle rhymes made him dream dreams;
-that is to say, he had almost resolved—he had very nearly
-resolved—that he would not read over any more the verses
-he had written about Meenie.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`GRAY DAYS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER X.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- GRAY DAYS.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-But, after all, that first plunge into city-life had had
-something of the excitement of novelty; it was the settling
-down thereafter to the dull monotonous round of labour,
-in this lonely lodging, with the melancholy gray world of
-mist surrounding him and shutting him in, that was to test
-the strength of his resolve. The first day was not so bad;
-for now and again he would relieve the slow tedium of the
-hours by doing a little carpentering about the room; and
-the sharp sound of hammer and nail served to break in
-upon that hushed, slumberous murmur of the great city
-without that seemed a mournful, distant, oppressive thing.
-But the next day of this solitary life (for it was not until
-the end of the week he was to see Mr. Weems) was dreadful.
-The dull, silent gray hours would not go by. Wrestling
-with Ewart's *Agricultural Assistant*, or Balfour's *Elements
-of Botany*, or with distressing problems in land-surveying
-or timber-measuring, he would think the time had passed;
-and then, going to the window for a moment's relief to eye
-and brain, he would see by the clock of the railway station
-that barely half an hour had elapsed since last he had
-looked at the obdurate hands. How he envied the porters,
-the cab-drivers, the men who were loading and unloading
-the waggons; they seemed all so busy and contented;
-they were getting through with their work; they had
-something to show for their labour; they had companions
-to talk to and joke with; sometimes he thought he could
-hear them laughing. And ah, how much more he envied
-the traveller who drove up and got leisurely out of the cab,
-and had his luggage carried into the station, himself
-following and disappearing from view! Whither was he going,
-then, away from this great, melancholy city, with its slow
-hours, and wan skies, and dull, continuous, stupefying
-murmur? Whither, indeed!—away by the silver links of
-Forth, perhaps, with the castled rock of Stirling rising into
-the windy blue and white; away by the wooded banks of
-Allan Water and the bonny Braes of Doune; by Strathyre,
-and Glenogle, and Glenorchy; and past the towering
-peaks of Ben Cruachan, and out to the far-glancing waters
-of the western seas. Indeed it is a sore pity that Miss
-Carry Hodson, in a fit of temper, had crushed together and
-thrust into the bottom of the boat the newspaper containing
-an estimate of Ronald's little Highland poem; if only she
-had handed it on to him, he would have learned that the
-sentiment of nostalgia is too slender and fallacious a thing for
-any sensible person to bother his head about; and, instead
-of wasting his time in gazing at the front of a railway
-station, he would have gone resolutely back to Strachan's
-*Agricultural Tables* and the measuring and mapping of
-surface areas.
-
-On the third day he grew desperate.
-
-'In God's name let us see if there's not a bit of blue
-sky anywhere!' he said to himself; and he flung his books
-aside, and put on his Glengarry cap, and took a stick in his
-hand, and went out.
-
-Alas! that there were no light pattering steps following
-him down the stone stair; the faithful Harry had had to be
-left behind, under charge of Mr. Murray of the inn. And
-indeed Ronald found it so strange to be going out without
-some companion of the kind that when he passed into the
-wide, dull thoroughfare, he looked up and down everywhere
-to see if he could not find some homeless wandering cur
-that he could induce to go with him. But there was no
-sign of dog-life visible; for the matter of that there was
-little sign of any other kind of life; there was nothing
-before him but the wide, empty, dull-hued street, apparently
-terminating in a great wilderness of india-rubber works and
-oil-works and the like, all of them busily engaged in pouring
-volumes of smoke through tall chimneys into the already
-sufficiently murky sky.
-
-But when he got farther north, he found that there were
-lanes and alleys permeating this mass of public works; and
-eventually he reached a canal, and crossed that, deeming
-that if he kept straight on he must reach the open country
-somewhere. As yet he could make out no distance; blocks
-of melancholy soot-begrimed houses, timber-yards, and
-blank stone walls shut in the view on every hand; moreover
-there was a brisk north wind blowing that was sharply
-pungent with chemical fumes and also gritty with dust; so
-that he pushed on quickly, anxious to get some clean air
-into his lungs, and anxious, if that were possible, to get a
-glimpse of green fields and blue skies. For, of course, he
-could not always be at his books; and this, as he judged,
-must be the nearest way out into the country; and he could
-not do better than gain some knowledge of his surroundings,
-and perchance discover some more or less secluded sylvan
-retreat, where, in idle time, he might pass an hour or so
-with his pencil and his verses and his memories of the
-moors and hills.
-
-But the farther out he got the more desolate and
-desolating became the scene around him. Here was neither
-town nor country; or rather, both were there; and both
-were dead. He came upon a bit of hawthorn-hedge; the
-stems were coal-black, the leaves begrimed out of all
-semblance to natural foliage. There were long straight
-roads, sometimes fronted by a stone wall and sometimes
-by a block of buildings—dwelling-houses, apparently, but
-of the most squalid and dingy description; the windows
-opaque with dirt; the 'closes' foul; the pavements in front
-unspeakable. But the most curious thing was the lifeless
-aspect of this dreary neighbourhood. Where were the
-people? Here or there two or three ragged children would
-be playing in the gutter; or perhaps, in a dismal little shop,
-an old woman might be seen, with some half-withered
-apples and potatoes on the counter. But where were the
-people who at one time or other must have inhabited
-these great, gaunt, gloomy tenements? He came to a
-dreadful place called Saracen Cross—a very picture of
-desolation and misery; the tall blue-black buildings showing
-hardly any sign of life in their upper flats; the shops below
-being for the most part tenantless, the windows rudely
-boarded over. It seemed as if some blight had fallen over
-the land, first obliterating the fields, and then laying its
-withering hand on the houses that had been built on them.
-And yet these melancholy-looking buildings were not
-wholly uninhabited; here or there a face was visible—but
-always of women or children; and perhaps the men-folk
-were away at work somewhere in a factory. Anyhow,
-under this dull gray sky, with a dull gray mist in the air,
-and with a strange silence everywhere around, the place
-seemed a City of the Dead; he could not understand how
-human beings could live in it at all.
-
-At last, however, he came to some open spaces that
-still bore some half-decipherable marks of the country, and
-his spirits rose a little. He even tried to sing 'O say, will
-you marry me, Nelly Munro?'—to force himself into a
-kind of liveliness, as it were, and to prove to himself that
-things were not quite so bad after all. But the words
-stuck in his throat. His voice sounded strangely in this
-silent and sickly solitude. And at last he stood stock-still,
-to have a look round about him, and to make out what
-kind of a place this was that he had entered into.
-
-Well, it was a very strange kind of place. It seemed to
-have been forgotten by somebody, when all the other land
-near was being ploughed through by railway-lines and
-heaped up into embankments. Undoubtedly there were
-traces of the country still remaining—and even of agriculture;
-here and there a line of trees, stunted and nipped by
-the poisonous air; a straggling hedge or two, withered and
-black; a patch of corn, of a pallid and hopeless colour;
-and a meadow with cattle feeding in it. But the road that
-led through these bucolic solitudes was quite new and made
-of cinders; in the distance it seemed to lose itself in a
-network of railway embankments; while the background of
-this strange simulacrum of a landscape—so far as that
-could be seen through the pall of mist and smoke—seemed
-to consist of further houses, ironworks, and tall
-chimney-stacks. Anything more depressing and disconsolate he had
-never witnessed; nay, he had had no idea that any such
-God-forsaken neighbourhood existed anywhere in the world;
-and he thought he would much rather be back at his
-books than wandering through this dead and spectral land.
-Moreover it was beginning to rain—a thin, pertinacious drizzle
-that seemed to hang in the thick and clammy air; and so
-he struck away to the right, in the direction of some houses,
-guessing that there he would find some way of getting back
-to the city other than that ghastly one he had come by.
-
-By the time he had reached these houses—a suburb or
-village this seemed to be that led in a straggling fashion up
-to the crest of a small hill—it was raining heavily. Now
-ordinarily a gamekeeper in the Highlands is not only
-indifferent to rain, but apparently incapable of perceiving
-the existence of it. When was wet weather at Inver-Mudal
-ever known to interfere with the pursuits or occupations of
-anybody? Why, the lads there would as soon have thought
-of taking shelter from the rain as a terrier would. But it
-is one thing to be walking over wet heather in
-knickerbocker-stockings and shoes, the water quite clean, and the
-exercise keeping legs and feet warm enough, and it is
-entirely another thing to be walking through mud made
-of black cinders, with clammy trousers flapping coldly
-round one's ankles. Nay, so miserable was all this
-business that he took refuge in an entry leading into one of
-those 'lands' of houses; and there he stood, in the cold
-stone passage, with a chill wind blowing through it, looking
-out on the swimming pavements, and the black and muddy
-road, and the dull stone walls, and the mournful skies.
-
-At length, the rain moderating somewhat, he issued out
-from this shelter, and set forth for the town. A
-tramway-car passed him, but he had no mind to be jammed in
-amongst a lot of elderly women, all damp and with
-dripping umbrellas. Nay, he was trying to convince himself
-that the very discomfort of this dreary march
-homeward—through mud and drizzle and fog—was a wholesome thing.
-After that glimpse of the kind of country that lay outside
-the town—in this direction at least—there would be less
-temptation for him to throw down his books and go off for
-idle strolls. He assured himself that he ought to be glad
-that he found no verdant meadows and purling brooks;
-that, on the contrary, the aspect of this suburban territory
-was sufficiently appalling to drive him back to his lodgings.
-All the same, when he did arrive there, he was somewhat
-disheartened and depressed; and he went up the stone
-staircase slowly; and when he entered that solitary, dull
-little room, and sate down, he felt limp and damp and
-tired—tired, after a few miles' walk! And then he took to
-his books again, with his mouth set hard.
-
-Late that night he was sitting as usual alone, and rather
-absently turning over his papers; and already it had come
-to this that now, when he chanced to read any of these
-writings of his of former days, they seemed to have been
-written by some one else. Who was this man, then, that
-seemed to go through the world with a laugh and a song,
-as it were; rating this one, praising that; having it all his
-own way; and with never a thought of the morrow? But
-there was one piece in particular that struck home. It was
-a description of the little terrier; he had pencilled it on the
-back of an envelope one warm summer day when he was
-lying at full length on the heather, with Harry not half a
-dozen yards off, his nose between his paws. Harry did not
-know that his picture was being taken.
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | Auld, gray, and grizzled; yellow een;
- | A nose as brown's a berry;
- | A wit as sharp as ony preen—
- | That's my wee chieftain Harry.
- |
- | Lord sakes!—the courage of the man!
- | The biggest barn-yard ratten,
- | He'll snip him by the neck, o'er-han',
- | As he the deil had gatten.
- |
- | And when his master's work on hand,
- | There's none maun come anear him;
- | The biggest Duke in all Scotland,
- | My Harry's teeth would fear him.
- |
- | But ordinar' wise like fowl or freen,
- | He's harmless as a kitten;
- | As soon he'd think o' worryin'
- | A hennie when she's sittin'.
- |
- | But Harry, lad, ye're growin' auld;
- | Your days are gettin' fewer;
- | And maybe Heaven has made a fauld
- | For such wee things as you are.
- |
- | And what strange kintra will that be?
- | And will they fill your coggies?
- | And whatna strange folk there will see
- | There's water for the doggies?
- |
- | Ae thing I brawly ken; it's this—
- | Ye may hae work or play there;
- | But if your master once ye miss,
- | I'm bound ye winna stay there.
-
-It was the last verse that struck home. It was through no
-failure of devotion on the part of the faithful Harry that he
-was now at Inver-Mudal; it was his master that had played
-him false, and severed the old companionship. And he
-kept thinking about the little terrier; and wondering
-whether he missed his master as much as his master missed
-him; and wondering whether Meenie had ever a word for
-him as she went by—for she and Harry had always been
-great friends. Nay, perhaps Meenie might not take it ill if
-Maggie wrote to her for news of the little dog; and then
-Meenie would answer; and might not her letter take a
-wider scope, and say something about the people there, and
-about herself? Surely she would do that; and some fine
-morning the answer—in Meenie's handwriting—would be
-delivered in Abbotsford Place; and he knew that Maggie
-would not be long in apprising him of the same. Perhaps,
-indeed, he might himself become possessed of that precious
-missive; and bring it away with him; and from time to
-time have a glance at this or that sentence of it—in
-Meenie's own actual handwriting—when the long dull work
-of the day was over, and his fancy free to fly away to the
-north again, to Strath-Terry and Clebrig and Loch Naver,
-and the neat small cottage with the red blinds in the
-windows. It seemed to him a long time now since he had left
-all of these; he felt as though Glasgow had engulfed him:
-while the day of his rescue—the day of the fulfilment of
-his ambitious designs—was now growing more and more
-distant and vague and uncertain, leaving him only the slow
-drudgery of these weary hours. But Meenie's letter would
-be a kind of talisman; to see her handwriting would be
-like hearing her speak; and surely this dull little lodging
-was quiet enough, so that in the hushed silence of the
-evening, he, reading those cheerful phrases, might persuade
-himself that it was Meenie's voice he was listening to, with
-the quiet, clear, soft laugh that so well he remembered.
-
-And so these first days went by; and he hoped in time to
-get more accustomed to this melancholy life; and doggedly
-he stuck to the task he had set before him. As for the
-outcome of it all—well, that did not seem quite so facile nor so
-fine a thing as it had appeared before he came away from the
-north; but he left that for the future to decide; and in the
-meantime he was above all anxious not to perplex himself
-by the dreaming of idle dreams. He had come to Glasgow
-to work; not to build impossible castles in the air.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`KATE`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER XI.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- KATE.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-And yet it was a desperately hard ordeal; for this man was
-by nature essentially joyous, and sociable, and fitted to be
-the king of all good company; and the whole of his life
-had been spent in the open, in brisk and active exercise;
-and sunlight and fresh air were to him as the very breath
-of his nostrils. But here he was, day after day, week after
-week, chained to these dismal tasks; in solitude; with the
-far white dream of ambition becoming more and more
-distant and obscured; and with a terrible consciousness
-ever growing upon him that in coming away from even the
-mere neighbourhood of Meenie, from the briefest
-companionship with her, he had sacrificed the one beautiful
-thing, the one precious possession, that his life had ever
-held for him or would hold. What though the impalpable
-barrier of Glengask and Orosay rose between him and her?
-He was no sentimental Claude Melnotte; he had common
-sense; he accepted facts. Of course Meenie would go
-away in due time. Of course she was destined for higher
-things. But what then? What of the meanwhile? Could
-anything happen to him quite so wonderful, or worth the
-striving for, as Meenie's smile to him as she met him in the
-road? What for the time being made the skies full of
-brightness, and made the pulses of the blood flow gladly,
-and the day become charged with a kind of buoyancy of
-life? And as for these vague ambitions for the sake of
-which he had bartered away his freedom and sold himself
-into slavery—towards what did they tend? For whom?
-The excited atmosphere the Americans had brought with
-them had departed now: alas! this other atmosphere into
-which he had plunged was dull and sad enough, in all
-conscience; and the leaden days weighed down upon him;
-and the slow and solitary hours would not go by.
-
-One evening he was coming in to the town by way of the
-Pollokshaws road; he had spent the afternoon hard at work
-with Mr. Weems, and was making home again to the silent
-little lodging in the north. He had now been a month and
-more in Glasgow; and had formed no kind of society or
-companionship whatever. Once or twice he had looked
-in at his brother's; but that was chiefly to see how the
-little Maggie was going on; his sister-in-law gave him no
-over-friendly welcome; and, indeed, the social atmosphere
-of the Reverend Andrew's house was far from being
-congenial to him. As for the letter of introduction that
-Meenie had given him to her married sister, of course he
-had not had the presumption to deliver that; he had
-accepted the letter, and thanked Meenie for it—for it was
-but another act of her always thoughtful kindness; but
-Mrs. Gemmill was the wife of a partner in a large warehouse;
-and they lived in Queen's Crescent; and altogether Ronald
-had no thought of calling on them—although to be sure
-he had heard that Mrs. Gemmill had been making sufficiently
-minute and even curious inquiries with regard to
-him of a member of his brother's congregation whom
-she happened to know. No; he lived his life alone;
-wrestling with the weariness of it as best he might; and
-not quite knowing, perhaps, how deeply it was eating into
-his heart.
-
-Well, he was walking absently home on this dull gray
-evening, watching the lamp-lighter adding point after point
-to the long string of golden stars, when there went by a
-smartly appointed dog-cart. He did not particularly remark
-the occupants of the vehicle, though he knew they were two
-women, and that one of them was driving; his glance fell
-rather on the well-groomed cob, and he thought the
-varnished oak dog-cart looked neat and business-like.
-The next second it was pulled up; there was a pause,
-during which time he was of course drawing nearer; and
-then a woman's voice called to him—
-
-'Bless me, is that you, Ronald?'
-
-He looked up in amazement. And who was this, then,
-who had turned her head round and was now regarding
-him with her laughing, handsome, bold black eyes? She
-was a woman apparently of five-and-thirty or so, but
-exceedingly well preserved and comely; of pleasant features
-and fresh complexion; and of rather a manly build and
-carriage—an appearance that was not lessened by her
-wearing a narrow-brimmed little billycock hat. And then,
-even in this gathering dusk, he recognised her; and
-unconsciously he repeated her own words—
-
-'Bless me, is that you, Mrs.—Mrs.—Menzies—' for in
-truth he had almost forgotten her name.
-
-'Mrs. This or Mrs. That!' the other cried. 'I thought
-my name was Kate—it used to be anyway. Well, I declare!
-Come, give us a shake of your hand—auntie, this is my
-cousin Ronald!—and who would hae thought of meeting
-you in Glasgow, now!'
-
-'I have been here a month and more,' Ronald said,
-taking the proffered hand.
-
-'And never to look near me once—there's friendliness!
-Eh, and what a man you've grown to—ye were just a bit
-laddie when I saw ye last—but aye after the lasses,
-though—oh aye—bless me, what changes there hae been since
-then!'
-
-'Well, Katie, it's not you that have changed much anyway,'
-said he, for he was making out again the old familiar
-girlish expression in the firmer features of the mature woman.
-
-'And what's brought ye to Glasgow?' said she—but
-then she corrected herself: 'No, no; I'll have no long
-story wi' you standing on the pavement like that. Jump
-up behind, Ronald, lad, and come home wi' us, and we'll
-have a crack thegither——'
-
-'Katie, dear,' said her companion, who was a little,
-white-faced, cringing and fawning old woman, 'let me get
-down and get up behind. Your cousin must sit beside ye——'
-
-But already Ronald had swung himself on to the after
-seat of the vehicle; and Mrs. Menzies had touched the
-cob with her whip; and soon they were rattling away into
-the town.
-
-'I suppose ye heard that my man was dead?' said
-she presently, and partly turning round.
-
-'I think I did,' he answered rather vaguely.
-
-'He was a good man to me, like Auld Robin Gray,' said
-this strapping widow, who certainly had a very matter-of-fact
-way in talking about her deceased husband. 'But he was
-never the best of managers, poor man. I've been doing
-better ever since. We've a better business, and not a
-penny of mortgage left on the tavern.'
-
-'Weel ye may say that, Katie,' whined the old woman.
-'There never was such a manager as you—never. Ay, and
-the splendid furniture—it was never thought o' in his
-time—bless 'm! A good man he was, and a kind man; but no
-the manager you are, Katie; there's no such another tavern
-in a' Glesca.'
-
-Now although the cousinship with Ronald claimed by
-Mrs. Menzies did not exist in actual fact,—there was some
-kind of remote relationship, however,—still, it must be
-confessed that it was very ungrateful and inconstant of him
-to have let the fate and fortunes of the pretty Kate Burnside
-(as she was in former days) so entirely vanish from his mind
-and memory. Kate Burnside was the daughter of a small
-farmer in the Lammermuir district; and the Strangs and
-Burnsides were neighbours as well as remotely related by
-blood. But that was not the only reason why Ronald
-ought to have remembered a little more about the stalwart,
-black-eyed, fresh-cheeked country wench who, though she
-was some seven or eight years or more his senior, he had
-boldly chosen for his sweetheart in his juvenile days. Nay,
-had she not been the first inspirer of his muse; and had he
-not sung this ox-eyed goddess in many a laboured verse,
-carefully constructed after the manner of Tannahill or
-Motherwell or Allan Cunningham? The 'lass of Lammer
-Law' he called her in these artless strains; and Kate was
-far from resenting this frank devotion; nay, she even
-treasured up the verses in which her radiant beauties were
-enumerated; for why should not a comely East Lothian
-wench take pleasure in being told that her cheeks outshone
-the rose, and that the 'darts o' her bonnie black een' had
-slain their thousands, and that her faithful lover would come
-to see her, ay, though the Himalayas barred his way? But
-then, alas!—as happens in the world—the faithful lover was
-sent off into far neighbourhoods to learn the art and
-mystery of training pointers and setters; and Kate's father
-died, and the family dispersed from the farm; Kate went
-into service in Glasgow, and there she managed to capture
-the affections of an obese and elderly publican whom—she
-being a prudent and sensible kind of a creature—she forthwith
-married; by and by, through partaking too freely of his
-own wares, he considerately died, leaving her in sole possession
-of the tavern (he had called it a public-house, but she
-soon changed all that, and the place too, when she was
-established as its mistress); and now she was a handsome,
-buxom, firm-nerved woman, who could and did look well
-after her own affairs; who had a flourishing business, a
-comfortable bank account, and a sufficiency of friends of her
-own way of thinking; and whose raven-black hair did not
-as yet show a single streak of gray. It was all this latter
-part of Kate Burnside's—or rather, Mrs. Menzies's—career
-of which Ronald was so shamefully ignorant; but she speedily
-gave him enough information about herself as they drove
-through the gas-lit streets, for she was a voluble, high-spirited
-woman, who could make herself heard when she chose.
-
-'Ay,' said she, at length, 'and where have ye left the
-good wife, Ronald?'
-
-'What goodwife?' said he.
-
-'Ye dinna tell me that you're no married yet?'
-
-'Not that I know of,' said he.
-
-'What have ye been about, man? Ye were aye daft
-about the lasses; and ye no married yet? What have ye
-been about, man, to let them a' escape ye?'
-
-'Some folk have other things to think of,' said he
-evasively.
-
-'Dinna tell me,' she retorted. 'I ken weel what's
-upper-most in the mind o' a handsome lad like you. Weel, if
-ye're no married, ye're the next door to it, I'll be bound.
-What's she like?'
-
-'I'll tell ye when I find her,' said he drily.
-
-'Ye're a dark one; but I'll find ye out, my man.'
-
-She could not continue the conversation, for they were
-about to cross the bridge over the Clyde, and the
-congested traffic made her careful. And then again Jamaica
-Street was crowded and difficult to steer through; but
-presently she left that for a quieter thoroughfare leading
-off to the right; and in a few moments she had pulled
-up in front of a large tavern, close by a spacious archway.
-
-'Auntie, gang you and fetch Alec to take the cob round,
-will ye?' said she; and then Ronald, surmising that she
-had now reached home, leapt to the ground, and went to
-the horse's head. Presently the groom appeared, and Kate
-Menzies descended from her chariot.
-
-Now in Glasgow, for an establishment of this kind to
-be popular, it must have a side entrance—the more the
-merrier, indeed—by which people can get into the tavern
-without being seen; but besides this it soon appeared that
-Mrs. Menzies had a private right of way of her own. She
-bade Ronald follow her; she went through the archway;
-produced a key and opened a door; and then, passing
-along a short lobby, he found himself in what might be
-regarded as the back parlour of the public-house, but was
-in reality a private room reserved by Mrs. Menzies for
-herself and her intimate friends. And a very brilliant little
-apartment it was; handsomely furnished and shining with
-stained wood, plate glass, and velvet; the gas-jets all aglow
-in the clear globes; the table in the middle laid with a
-white cloth for supper, all sparkling with crystal and
-polished electro-plate. Moreover (for business is business)
-this luxurious little den commanded at will complete views
-of the front premises; and there was also a door leading
-thither; but the door was shut, and the red blinds were
-drawn over the two windows, so that the room looked quite
-like one in a private dwelling.
-
-'And now, my good woman,' said Mrs. Menzies, as she
-threw her hat and cloak and dog-skin gloves into a corner,
-'just you mak' them hurry up wi' supper; for we're just
-home in time; and we'll want another place at the table.
-And tell Jeannie there's a great friend o' mine come in, if
-she can get anything special—Lord's sake, Ronald, if I had
-kent I was going to fall in with you I would have looked
-after it mysel'.'
-
-'Ye need not bother about me,' said he, 'for supper
-is not much in my way—not since I came to the town.
-Without the country air, I think one would as lief not sit
-down to a table at all.'
-
-'Oh, I can cure ye o' that complaint,' she said
-confidently; and she rang the bell.
-
-Instantly the door was opened, and he caught a glimpse
-of a vast palatial-looking place, with more stained wood
-and plate glass and velvet, and with several smartly-dressed
-young ladies standing or moving behind the long mahogany
-counters; moreover, one of these—a tall and serious-eyed
-maiden—now stood at the partly opened door.
-
-'Gin and bitters, Mary,' said Mrs. Menzies briskly—she
-was at this moment standing in front of one of the
-mirrors, complacently smoothing her hair with her hands,
-and setting to rights her mannish little necktie.
-
-The serious-eyed handmaiden presently reappeared,
-bringing a small salver, on which was a glass filled with
-some kind of a fluid, which she presented to him.
-
-'What's this?' said he, appealing to his hostess.
-
-'Drink it and find out,' said she; 'it'll make ye jump
-wi' hunger, as the Hielanman said.'
-
-He did as he was bid; and loudly she laughed at the
-wry face that he made.
-
-'What's the matter?'
-
-'It's a devil of a kind of thing, that,' said he; for it was
-a first experience.
-
-'Ay, but wait till ye find how hungry it will make ye,'
-she answered; and then she returned from the mirror. 'And
-I'm sure ye'll no mind my hair being a wee thing camstrairy,
-Ronald; there's no need for ceremony between auld freens,
-as the saying is——'
-
-'But, look here, Katie, my lass,' said he—for perhaps
-he was a little emboldened by that fiery fluid, 'I'm thinking
-that maybe I'm making myself just a little too much at home.
-Now, some other time, when ye've no company, I'll come
-in and see ye——'
-
-But she cut him short at once, and with some pride.
-
-'Indeed, I'll tell ye this, that the day that Ronald Strang
-comes into my house—and into my own house too—that's
-no the day that he's gaun out o't without eating and drinking.
-Ma certes, no! And as for company, why there's none but
-auld mother Paterson—I ca' her auntie; but she's no more
-my auntie than you are—ye see, my man, Ronald, a poor,
-unprotected helpless widow woman maun look after appearances—for
-the world's unco given to leein', as Shakespeare says.
-There, Ronald, that's another thing,' she added suddenly—'ye'll
-take me to the theatre!—my word, we'll have a box!'
-
-But these gay visions were interrupted by the reappearance
-of Mrs. Paterson, who was followed by a maidservant
-bearing a dish on which was a large sole, smoking hot.
-Indeed, it soon became apparent that this was to be a very
-elaborate banquet, such as Ronald was not at all familiar
-with; and all the care and flattering attention his hostess
-could pay him she paid him, laughing and joking with him,
-and insisting on his having the very best of everything, and
-eager to hand things to him—even if she rather ostentatiously
-displayed her abundant rings in doing so. And
-when mother Paterson said—
-
-'What will ye drink, Katie dear? Some ale—or some porter?'
-
-The other stormily answered—
-
-'Get out, ye daft auld wife! Ale or porter the first day
-that my cousin Ronald comes into my own house? Champagne's
-the word, woman; and the best! What will ye have,
-Ronald—what brand do ye like?—Moett and Shandon?'
-
-Ronald laughed.
-
-'What do I know about such things?' said he. 'And
-besides, there's no reason for such extravagance. There's
-been no stag killed the day.'
-
-'There's been no stag killed the day,' she retorted,
-'but Ronald Strang's come into my house, and he'll have
-the best that's in it, or my name's no Kate Burnside—or
-Kate Menzies, I should say, God forgie me! Ring the
-bell, auntie.'
-
-This time the grave-eyed barmaid appeared.
-
-'A bottle of Moett and Shandon, Mary.'
-
-'A pint bottle, m'm?'
-
-'A pint bottle—ye stupid idiot?' she said (but quite
-good-naturedly). 'A quart bottle, of course!'
-
-And then when the bottle was brought and the glasses
-filled, she said—
-
-'Here's your health, Ronald; and right glad am I to
-see you looking so weel—ye were aye a bonnie laddie, and
-ye've kept the promise o't—ay, indeed, the whole o' you
-Strangs were a handsome family—except your brother
-Andrew, maybe——'
-
-'Do ye ever see Andrew?' Ronald said; for a modest
-man does not like to have his looks discussed, even in the
-most flattering way.
-
-Then loudly laughed Kate Menzies.
-
-'Me? Me gang and see the Reverend Andrew Strang?
-No fears! He's no one o' my kind. He'd drive me out
-o' the house wi' bell, book, and candle. I hae my ain
-friends, thank ye—and I'm going to number you amongst
-them so long as ye stop in this town. Auntie, pass the
-bottle to Ronald!'
-
-And so the banquet proceeded—a roast fowl and bacon,
-an apple-tart, cheese and biscuits and what not following in
-due succession; and all the time she was learning more
-and more of the life that Ronald had led since he had left
-the Lothians, and freely she gave him of her confidences
-in return. On one point she was curiously inquisitive, and
-that was as to whether he had not been in some entanglement
-with one or other of the Highland lasses up there in
-Sutherlandshire; and there was a considerable amount of
-joking on that subject, which Ronald bore good-naturedly
-enough; finding it on the whole the easier way to let her
-surmises have free course.
-
-'But ye're a dark one!' she said at length. 'And ye
-would hae me believe that a strapping fellow like you hasna
-had the lasses rinnin' after him? I'm no sae daft.'
-
-'I'll tell ye what it is, Katie,' he retorted, 'the lasses in
-the Highlands have their work to look after; they dinna
-live a' in clover, like the Glasgow dames.'
-
-'Dinna tell me—dinna tell me,' she said.
-
-And now, as supper was over and the table cleared, she
-went to a small mahogany cabinet and opened it.
-
-'I keep some cigars here for my particular friends,' said
-Mrs. Menzies, 'but I'm sure I dinna ken which is the best.
-Come and pick for yourself, Ronald lad; if you're no
-certain the best plan is to take the biggest.'
-
-'This is surely living on the fat of the land, Katie,' he
-protested.
-
-'And what for no?' said she boldly. 'Let them enjoy
-themselves that's earned the right to it.'
-
-'But that's not me,' he said.
-
-'Well, it's me,' she answered. 'And when my cousin
-Ronald comes into my house, it's the best that's in it that's
-at his service—and no great wonder either!'
-
-Well, her hospitality was certainly a little stormy; but
-the handsome widow meant kindly and well; and it is
-scarcely to be marvelled at if—under the soothing influences
-of the fragrant tobacco—he was rather inclined to substitute
-for this brisk and business-like Kate Menzies of these present
-days the gentler figure of the Kate Burnside of earlier
-years, more especially as she had taken to talking of those
-times, and of all the escapades the young lads and lasses
-used to enjoy on Hallowe'en night or during the first-footing
-at Hogmanay.
-
-'And now I mind me, Ronald,' she said, 'ye used to
-be a fine singer when ye were a lad. Do ye keep it up
-still?'
-
-'I sometimes try,' he answered. 'But there's no been
-much occasion since I came to this town. It's a lonely
-kind o' place, for a' the number o' folk in it.'
-
-'Well, now ye're among friends, give us something!'
-
-'Oh, that I will, if ye like,' said he readily; and he laid
-aside his cigar.
-
-And then he sang—moderating his voice somewhat, so
-that he should not be heard in the front premises—a verse
-or two of an old favourite—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'The sun rase sae rosy, the gray hills adorning,
- | Light sprang the laverock, and mounted sae high,'
-
-and if his voice was quiet, still the clear, penetrating quality
-of it was there; and when he had finished Kate Menzies
-said to him—after a second of irresolution—
-
-'Ye couldna sing like that when ye were a lad, Ronald.
-It's maist like to gar a body greet.'
-
-But he would not sing any more that night; he guessed
-that she must have her business affairs to attend to; and
-he was resolved upon going, in spite of all her importunacy.
-However, as a condition, she got him to promise to come
-and see her on the following evening. It was Saturday
-night; several of her friends were in the habit of dropping
-in on that night; finally, she pressed her entreaty so
-that he could not well refuse; and, having promised, he left.
-
-And no doubt as he went home through the great,
-noisy, lonely city, he felt warmed and cheered by this
-measure of human companionship that had befallen him.
-As for Kate Menzies, it would have been a poor return for
-her excessive kindness if he had stopped to ask himself
-whether her robust *camaraderie* did not annoy him a little.
-He had had plenty of opportunities of becoming acquainted
-with the manners and speech and ways of refined and
-educated women; indeed, there are few gamekeepers in the
-Highlands who have not at one time or another enjoyed
-that privilege. Noble and gracious ladies who, in the
-south, would as soon think of talking to a door-mat as of
-entering into any kind of general conversation with their
-butler or coachman, will fall quite naturally into the
-habit—when they are living away in the seclusion of a Highland
-glen with the shooting-party at the lodge—of stopping to
-have a chat with Duncan or Hector the gamekeeper when
-they chance to meet, him coming along the road with his
-dogs; and, what is more, they find him worth the talking
-to. Then, again, had not Ronald been an almost daily
-spectator of Miss Douglas's sweet and winning manners—and
-that continued through years; and had not the young
-American lady, during the briefer period she was in the
-north, made quite a companion of him in her frank and
-brave fashion? He had almost to confess to himself that
-there was just a little too much of Mrs. Menzies's tempestuous
-good nature; and then again he refused to confess anything
-of the kind; and quarrelled with himself for being so
-ungrateful. Why, the first bit of real, heartfelt friendliness
-that had been shown him since he came to this great city;
-and he was to examine it; and be doubtful; and wish that
-the keeper of a tavern should be a little more refined!
-
-'Ronald lad,' he was saying to himself when he reached
-his lodging in the dusky Port Dundas Road, 'it's over-fed
-stomachs that wax proud. You'll be better minded if you
-keep to your books and plainer living.'
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`A SOCIAL EVENING`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER XII.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- A SOCIAL EVENING.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Looking forward to this further festivity he worked hard at
-his studies all day, and it was not until nearly nine o'clock
-in the evening that he went away down through the roaring
-streets to keep his engagement with Kate Menzies. And
-very snug and comfortable indeed did the little parlour
-look, with its clear glass globes and warmly-cushioned seats
-and brilliant mirrors and polished wood. Kate herself
-(who was quite resplendent in purple velvet and silver
-necklace and bangles) was reading a sporting newspaper;
-old mother Paterson was sewing; there were cigar-boxes on
-the table.
-
-'And what d'ye mean,' cried the handsome widow gaily,
-when he made his appearance, 'by coming at this hour?
-Did not I tell ye we would expect ye to supper?'
-
-'Would ye have me eat you out o' house and home,
-woman?' he said. 'Besides, I had some work to get
-through.'
-
-'Well, sit down and make yerself happy; better late
-than never; there's the cigars—
-
-'I would as lief smoke a pipe, Katie, if ye don't object—only
-that I'm shamed to smoke in a fine place like this——'
-
-'What is't for, man? Do ye think I got it up for an
-exhibition—to be put in a glass case! And what'll ye
-drink now, Ronald—some Moett and Shandon?'
-
-'Indeed no,' said he. 'If I may light my pipe I want
-nothing else.'
-
-'But I canna bear an empty table,' said she. 'Here,
-auntie, get your flounces and falderals out o' the road—bless
-us, woman, ye make the place look like a milliner's
-shop! And bring out the punch-bowl frae the chiffonnier—I
-want ye to see it, Ronald, for it was gien to my gudeman
-by an auld freend o' his in Ayr, that got it from the last of
-the lairds o' Garthlie. And if ane or twa o' them happen
-to come in to-night we'll try a brew—for there's naething
-so wholesome, after a', as the wine o' the country, and I
-can gie ye some o' the real stuff. Will ye no try a drop
-the noo?'
-
-'No thank ye, no thank ye,' said he, for he had lit his
-pipe, and was well content.
-
-'Well, well, we'll have one o' the lasses in to set the
-tumblers and the glasses, for I canna thole to see a bare
-table; and in the meantime, Ronald, you and me can hae
-a crack be oursels, and ye can tell me what ye mean to
-do when ye get your certificate——'
-
-'If I get it, ye mean, lass.'
-
-'No fears,' she said confidently; 'ye were aye one o'
-the clever ones; I'll warrant ye there's na skim-milk in
-your head where the brains should be. But I want to ken
-what ye're ettling at after you've got the certificate, and
-what's your plans, and the like; for I've been thinking
-about it; and if there was any kind o' a starting needed—the
-loan of a bit something in the way of a nest-egg, ye
-see—weel, I ken a place where ye might get that, and ye
-wouldna have to whistle long at the yett either.'
-
-Now there was no mistaking the generosity of this offer,
-however darkly it might be veiled by Kate Menzies's figurative
-manner of speech; and it was with none the less gratitude
-that he answered her and explained that a head-forester
-traded with the capital of his employer, though, to be sure,
-he might on entering a new situation have to find sureties
-for him.
-
-'Is it caution-money ye mean, Ronald?' she said frankly.
-
-'Well, if a man had no one to speak for him—no one
-whose word they would take,' he said to her (though all
-this was guess-work on his part), 'they might ask him for
-security. There would be no payment of money, of course,
-unless he robbed his employer; and then the sureties would
-have to make that good as far as they had undertaken.
-But it's a long way off yet, Katie, and hardly worth speaking
-about. I daresay Lord Ailine would say a word for me.'
-
-'And is that a'?' she said, with a laugh. 'Is that a'
-the money's wanted for—to guarantee the honesty o' one
-o' the Strangs o' Whittermains? Weel, I'm no a rich
-woman, Ronald—for my money's maistly sunk in the tavern—and
-doing weel enough there too—but if it's a surety ye
-want, for three hunder pounds, ay, or five hunder pounds,
-just you come to me, and the deil's in't if we canna manage
-it somehow.'
-
-'I thank ye for the offer anyway; I'm sure you mean
-it,' said he.
-
-'That lawyer o' mine,' she continued, 'is a dour chiel;
-he'll no let me do this; and he's grumbling at that; and a
-poor widow woman is supposed to hae nae soul o' her ain.
-I'm sure the fuss that he makes about that cob, and only
-fifty-five guineas, and come o' the best Clydesdale stock——'
-
-'But it was no the expense, it was no the expense, Katie
-dear,' whined the old woman, 'it was the risk to your life
-frae sae high-mettled a beast. Just think o't, at your time
-o' life, wi' a grand business, and yoursel' the manager o' it,
-and wi' sae mony freends, think what it would be if ye
-broke your neck——'
-
-'Broke your grandmother's fiddlestrings!' said she.
-'The beast's as quiet's a lamb. But that auld man, Peter
-Gunn. I suppose he's a good lawyer—indeed, every one
-says that—but he's as pernickety as an auld woman; and
-he'd mak' ye think the world was made o' silk paper, and
-ye daurna stir a step for fear o' fa'in through. But you
-just give me the word, Ronald, when the security's wanted;
-and we'll see if auld Peter can hinder me frae doing what
-I ought to do for one o' my own kith and kin.'
-
-They were thus talking when there came a knock at the
-outer door; then there was a clamour of voices in the little
-lobby; and presently there were ushered into the room
-three visitors, who were forthwith introduced to Ronald,
-with a few words of facetious playfulness from the widow.
-There was first a Mr. Jaap, a little old man with Jewish
-features, bald on the top of his head, but with long, flowing
-gray hair behind; a mild-looking old man, but with merry
-eyes nevertheless—and indeed all of them seemed to have
-been joking as they came in. Then there was a Mr. Laidlaw,
-a younger man, of middle height, and of a horsey type;
-stupid-looking, rather, but not ill-natured. The third was
-Captain M'Taggart, a large heavy man, with a vast, radiant,
-Bardolphian face, whose small, shrewd, twinkling blue eyes
-had the expression rather of a Clyde skipper given to
-rough jesting and steady rum-drinking (and he was all that)
-than of the high-souled, child-hearted sailor of romance.
-
-'Sit ye down, sit ye down,' their hostess said gaily.
-'Here, captain, is a job for ye; here's the punch-bowl
-that we only have on great days, ye ken; and your brew is
-famous—whether wi' old Jamaica or Long John. Set to
-work now—here's the sugar and the lemons ready for ye—for
-ye maun a' drink the health o' my cousin here that's
-come frae Sutherland.'
-
-'Frae Sutherland, say ye, Mistress?' the big skipper
-said, as he reached over for the lemons. 'Ye should ca'
-him your kissin frae the Hielans then. Do ye ken that
-story, Laidlaw? D'ye ken that yin about the Hielan
-kissins, Jaap? Man, that's a gude yin! have ye no heard
-it? Have ye no heard it, Mistress?'
-
-'Tell us what it is first, and we'll tell you afterwards,'
-said she saucily.
-
-'Weel, then,' said he—and he desisted from his preparations
-for the punch-making, for he was famous along the
-Broomielaw as a story-teller, and liked to keep up his
-reputation, 'it was twa young lasses, twa cousins they were,
-frae the west side o' Skye—and if there's ony place mair
-Hielan than that, it's no me that ever heard o't—and they
-were ta'en into service in an inn up about the Gairloch or
-Loch Inver, or one o' they lochs. Both o' them were
-good-looking lasses, mind ye; but one o' them just unusual
-handsome. Well, then, there happened to come to the
-inn an English tourist—a most respectable old gentleman
-he was; and it was one o' they two lasses—and no the
-brawest o' them either—that had to wait on him: but he
-was a freendly auld man; and on the mornin' o' his gaun
-awa he had to ring for something or other, and when she
-brought it to him, he said to her, jist by way o' compliment,
-ye ken, "You are a very good-looking girl, do you
-know, Flora?" And of course the lass was very well
-pleased; but she was a modest lassie too; and she said,
-"Oh no, sir; but I hef heard them say my kissin was
-peautiful!" "Your what?" said he. "My kissin, sir—" "Get
-away, you bold hussy! Off with you at once, or I'll
-ring for your master—you brazen baggage!"—and to this
-very day, they tell me, the poor lass do'esna ken what on
-earth it was that made the auld man into a madman; for
-what harm had she done in telling him that her cousin was
-better-looking than herself?'
-
-This recondite joke was received with much laughter by
-the company; and even Ronald had to admit that the Clyde
-skipper's imitation of the Highland accent was very fairly
-well done. But joke-making is dull work with empty glasses;
-and so Captain M'Taggart set himself seriously to the business
-of brewing that bowl of punch, while Kate Menzies polished
-the silver ladle to an even higher extreme of brilliancy.
-
-Now these three old cronies of the widow's had betrayed
-a little surprise on finding a stranger installed in their
-favourite howf; and perhaps they might have been inclined
-to resent the intrusion had not Kate Menzies very speedily
-intimated her views upon the subject in unmistakable
-language. Her 'cousin Ronald' was all her cry; it was
-Ronald this and Ronald that; and whatever Ronald said,
-that was enough, and decisive. For, of course, after a glass
-or so of punch, the newcomers had got to talking politics—or
-what they took to be politics; and Ronald, when he was
-invited to express his opinion, proved to be on the
-unpopular side; nor did he improve his position by talking
-with open scorn of a great public agitation then going
-on—indeed, he so far forgot himself as to define stump-oratory
-as only another form of foot-and-mouth disease. But at
-least he had one strenuous backer, and neither Mr. Laidlaw
-nor Mr. Jaap nor the big skipper was anxious to quarrel
-with a controversialist who had such abundant stores of
-hospitality at her command. Moreover, Kate Menzies was
-in the habit of speaking her mind; was it not better, for
-the sake of peace and quietness, to yield a little? This
-cousin of hers from the Highlands could parade some
-book-learning it is true; and he had plenty of cut-and-dried
-theories that sounded plausible enough; and his apparent
-knowledge of the working of American institutions was
-sufficiently good for an argument—so long as one could
-not get at the real facts; but they knew, of course, that,
-with time to get at these facts and to furnish forth replies
-to his specious reasonings, they could easily prove their
-own case. In the meantime they would be magnanimous.
-For the sake of good fellowship—and to oblige a
-lady—they shifted the subject.
-
-Or rather she did.
-
-'I suppose you'll be going to the Harmony Club to-night?'
-she said.
-
-'For a while, at least,' replied the captain. 'Mr. Jaap's
-new song is to be sung the nicht; and we maun get him
-an encore for't. Not that it needs us; "Caledonia's hills
-and dales" will be a' ower Glasgow before a fortnight's out;
-and it's young Tam Dalswinton that's to sing it. Tam'll
-do his best, no fear.'
-
-'It's little ye think,' observed Mrs. Menzies, with a kind
-of superior air, 'that there's somebody not a hundred miles
-frae here that can sing better than a' your members and a'
-your professionals put thegither. The Harmony Club!
-If the Harmony Club heard *him*, they might tak tent and
-learn a lesson.'
-
-'Ay, and wha's he when he's at hame, Mistress?'
-Captain M'Taggart said.
-
-'He's not fifty miles away frae here anyway,' she said.
-'And if I was to tell ye that he's sitting not three yards
-away frae ye at this meenit?'
-
-'Katie, woman, are ye daft?' Ronald said, and he
-laughed, but his forehead grew red all the same.
-
-'No, I'm no,' she answered confidently. 'I ken what
-I'm saying as weel as most folk. Oh, I've heard some o'
-the best o' them—no at the Harmony Club, for they're too
-high and mighty to let women bodies in—but at the City
-Hall concerts and in the theatres; and I've got a good
-enough ear, too; I ken what's what; and I ken if my
-cousin Ronald were to stand up at the Saturday Evening
-Concerts, and sing the song he sung in this very room last
-night, I tell ye he would take the shine out o' some o' them!'
-
-'He micht gie us a screed now,' Mr. Laidlaw suggested—his
-somewhat lack-lustre eyes going from his hostess to
-Ronald.
-
-'Faith, no!' Ronald said, laughing, 'there's been ower
-great a flourish beforehand. The fact is, Mrs. Menzies
-here——'
-
-'I thought I telled ye my name was Kate?' she said
-sharply.
-
-'Kate, Cat, or Kitten, then, as ye like, woman, what I
-mean to say is that ower long a grace makes the porridge
-cold. Some other time—some other time, lass.'
-
-'Ay, and look here, Mr. Jaap,' continued the widow,
-who was determined that her cousin's superior qualifications
-should not be hidden, 'ye are aye complaining that ye
-canna get anything but trash to set your tunes to. Well,
-here's my cousin; I dinna ken if he still keeps at the trade,
-but as a laddie he could just write ye anything ye liked right
-aff the reel, and as good as Burns, or better. There's your
-chance now. Everybody says your music's jist splendid—and
-the choruses taken up in a meenit—but you just ask Ronald
-there to gie ye something worth while making a song o'.'
-
-Now not only did the old man express his curiosity to
-see some of Ronald's work in this way, and also the gratification
-it would give him to set one of his songs to music,
-but Ronald was likewise well pleased with the proposal.
-His own efforts in adapting tunes to his verses he knew
-were very amateurish; and would it not be a new sensation—a
-little pride commingled with the satisfaction perhaps—to
-have one of his songs presented with an original air
-all to itself, and perhaps put to the test of being sung before
-some more or less skilled audience? He knew he had
-dozens to choose from; some of them patriotic, others
-convivial, others humorous in a kind of way: from any of these
-the musician was welcome to select as he liked. The love
-songs about Meenie were a class apart.
-
-And now that they had got away from the thrashed-out
-straw of politics to more congenial themes, these three
-curiously assorted boon-companions proved to be extremely
-pleasant and good-natured fellows; and when, at length,
-they said it was time for them to be off to the musical club,
-they cordially invited Ronald to accompany them. He was
-nothing loth, for he was curious to see the place; and if
-Mrs. Menzies grumbled a little at being left alone she
-consoled herself by hinting that her *protégé* could teach them
-a lesson if he chose to do so.
-
-'When ye've listened for a while to their squalling,
-Ronald, my man, jist you get up and show them how an
-East Lothian lad can do the trick.'
-
-'What's that, Mistress? I thought ye said your cousin
-was frae the Hielans,' the skipper broke in.
-
-'Frae the Hielans? Frae East Lothian, I tell ye;
-where I come frae mysel'; and where ye'll find the brawest
-lads and lasses in the breadth o' Scotland,' she added
-saucily.
-
-'And they dinna stay a' at hame either,' remarked the big
-skipper, with much gallantry, as the visitors prepared to leave.
-
-They went away through the noisy, crowded, glaring
-streets, and at length entered a spacious dark courtyard, at
-the head of which was a small and narrow entrance. The
-skipper led the way; but as they passed up the staircase
-they became aware of a noise of music overhead; and when
-they reached the landing, they had to pause there, so as not
-to interrupt the proceedings within. It was abundantly
-clear what these were. A man's voice was singing 'Green
-grow the rashes, O' to a smart and lively accompaniment
-on the piano; while at the end of each verse joined in a
-sufficiently enthusiastic chorus:
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'Green grow the rashes, O,
- | Green grow the rashes, O,
- | The sweetest hours that e'er I spent,
- | Were spent among the lasses, O.'
-
-and that was repeated:
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'Green grow the rashes, O,
- | Green grow the rashes, O,
- | The sweetest hours that e'er I spen',
- | Were spent among the lasses, O.'
-
-Then there was silence. The skipper now opened the
-door; and, as they entered, Ronald found himself near the
-head of a long and loftily-ceilinged apartment, the atmosphere
-of which was of a pale blue cast, through the presence
-of much tobacco smoke. All down this long room were
-twin rows of small tables, at which little groups of friends
-or acquaintances sate—respectable looking men they seemed,
-many of them young fellows, more of them of middle age,
-and nearly all of them furnished with drinks and pipes or
-cigars. At the head of the room was a platform, not raised
-more than a foot from the floor, with a piano at one end of
-it; and in front of the platform was a special semicircular
-table, presided over by a bland rubicund gentleman, to whom
-Ronald was forthwith introduced. Indeed, the newcomers
-were fortunate enough to find seats at this semicircular
-table; and when beverages were called for and pipes lit,
-they waited for the further continuance of the proceedings.
-
-These were of an entirely simple and ingenuous character,
-and had no taint whatsoever of the ghastly make-believe of
-wit, the mean swagger, and facetious innuendo of the
-London music hall. Now a member of the Club, when
-loudly called upon by the general voice, would step up to
-the platform and sing some familiar Scotch ballad; and
-again one of the professional singers in attendance (they
-did not appear in swallow-tail and white tie, by the way,
-but in soberer attire) would 'oblige' with something more
-ambitious; but throughout there was a prevailing tendency
-towards compositions with a chorus; and the chorus grew
-more universal and more enthusiastic as the evening
-proceeded. Then occasionally between the performances there
-occurred a considerable interval, during which the members
-of the Club would make brief visits to the other tables; and
-in this way Ronald made the acquaintance of a good number
-of those moderately convivial souls. For, if there was a
-tolerable amount of treating and its corresponding
-challenges, there was no drunkenness apparent anywhere; there
-was some loud talking; and Captain M'Taggart was unduly
-anxious that everybody should come and sit at the President's
-table; but the greatest hilarity did not exceed bounds.
-It was to be observed, however, that, as the evening drew
-on, it was the extremely sentimental songs that were the
-chief favourites—those that mourned the bygone days of
-boyhood and youth, or told of the premature decease of
-some beloved Annie or Mary.
-
-Ronald was once or twice pressed to sing; but he
-good-naturedly refused.
-
-'Some other time, if I may have the chance, I will try
-to screw up my courage,' he said. 'And by that time ye'll
-have forgotten what Mrs. Menzies said: the East Lothian
-folk are wonderful for praising their own kith and kin.'
-
-As to letting old Mr. Jaap have a song or two to set to
-music, that was another and simpler matter; and he promised
-to hunt out one or two of them. In truth, it would
-not be difficult, as he himself perceived, to find something
-a little better than the 'Caledonia's hills and dales' which
-was sung that night, and which was of a very familiar pattern
-indeed. And Ronald looked forward with not a little
-natural satisfaction to the possibility of one of his songs
-being sung in that resounding hall; a poet must have his
-audience somewhere; and this, at least, was more extensive
-than a handful of farm lads and lasses collected together in
-the barn at Inver-Mudal.
-
-At about half-past eleven the entire company broke up
-and dispersed; and Ronald, after thanking his three companions
-very heartily for their hospitality during the evening,
-set off for his lodgings in the north of the city. He was
-quite enlivened and inspirited by this unusual whirl of
-gaiety; it had come into his sombre and lonely life as a
-startling surprise. The rattle of the piano—the resounding
-choruses—the eager talk of these boon-companions—all this
-was of an exciting nature; and as he walked away through
-the now darkened thoroughfares, he began to wonder
-whether he could not write some lilting verses in the old
-haphazard way. He had not even tried such a thing since
-he came to Glasgow; the measurement of surface areas and
-the classification of Dicotyledons did not lead him in that
-direction. But on such a gala-night as this, surely he might
-string some lines together—about Glasgow lads and lasses,
-and good-fellowship, and the delights of a roaring town?
-It would be an experiment, in any case.
-
-Well, when he had got home and lit the gas, and sate
-down to the jingling task, it was not so difficult, after all.
-But there was an undernote running through these verses
-that he had not contemplated when he set out. When the
-first glow of getting them together was over, he looked
-down the page, and then he put it away; in no
-circumstances could this kind of song find its way into the
-Harmony Club; and yet he was not altogether disappointed
-that it was so.
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | O Glasgow lasses are fair enough,
- | And Glasgow lads are merry;
- | But I would be with my own dear maid,
- | A-wandering down Strath-Terry.
- |
- | And she would be singing her morning song,
- | The song that the larks have taught her;
- | A song of the northern seas and hills,
- | And a song of Mudal-Water.
- |
- | The bands go thundering through the streets,
- | The fifes and drums together;
- | Far rather I'd hear the grouse-cock crow
- | Among the purple heather;
- |
- | And I would be on Ben Clebrig's brow,
- | To watch the red-deer stealing
- | In single file adown the glen
- | And past the summer sheiling.
- |
- | O Glasgow lasses are fair enough,
- | And Glasgow lads are merry;
- | But ah, for the voice of my own dear maid,
- | A-singing adown Strath-Terry!
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`INDUCEMENTS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER XIII.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- INDUCEMENTS.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Ronald's friendship with the hospitable widow and his
-acquaintanceship with those three boon-companions of hers
-grew apace; and many a merry evening they all of them
-had together in the brilliant little parlour, Ronald singing
-his own or any other songs without stint, the big skipper
-telling elaborately facetious Highland stories, the widow
-bountiful with her cigars and her whisky-toddy. And
-yet he was ill, ill at ease. He would not admit to
-himself, of course, that he rather despised these new
-acquaintances—for were they not most generous and kind
-towards him?—nor yet that the loud hilarity he joined in
-was on his part at times a trifle forced. Indeed, he could
-not very well have defined the cause of this disquietude
-and restlessness and almost despair that was present to his
-consciousness even when the laugh was at its loudest and
-the glasses going round most merrily. But the truth was
-he had begun to lose heart in his work. The first glow of
-determination that had enabled him to withstand the
-depression of the dull days and the monotonous labour had
-subsided now. The brilliant future the Americans had
-painted for him did not seem so attractive. Meenie was
-away; perhaps never to be met with more; and the old
-glad days that were filled with the light of her presence
-were all gone now and growing ever more and more distant.
-And in the solitude of the little room up there in the Port
-Dundas Road—with the gray atmosphere ever present at
-the windows, and the dull rumble of the carts and waggons
-without—he was now getting into a habit of pushing aside
-his books for a while, and letting his fancies go far afield;
-insomuch that his heart seemed to grow more and more
-sick within him, and more and more he grew to think that
-somehow life had gone all wrong with him.
-
-There is in Glasgow a thoroughfare familiarly known as
-Balmanno Brae. It is in one of the poorer neighbourhoods
-of the town; and is in truth rather a squalid and uninteresting
-place; but it has the one striking peculiarity of being
-extraordinarily steep, having been built on the side of a
-considerable hill. Now one must have a powerful imagination
-to see in this long, abrupt, blue-gray thoroughfare—with
-its grimy pavements and house-fronts, and its gutters
-running with dirty water—any resemblance to the wide
-slopes of Ben Clebrig and the carolling rills that flow down
-to Loch Naver; but all the same Ronald had a curious
-fancy for mounting this long incline, and that at the hardest
-pace he could go. For sometimes, in that little room, he
-felt almost like a caged animal dying for a wider air, a
-more active work; and here at least was a height that
-enabled him to feel the power of his knees; while the mere
-upward progress was a kind of inspiriting thing, one always
-having a vague fancy that one is going to see farther in
-getting higher. Alas! there was but the one inevitable
-termination to these repeated climbings; and that not the
-wide panorama embracing Loch Loyal and Ben Hope and
-the far Kyle of Tongue, but a wretched little lane called
-Rotten Row—a double line of gloomy houses, with here
-and there an older-fashioned cottage with a thatched roof,
-and with everywhere pervading the close atmosphere an
-odour of boiled herrings. And then again, looking back,
-there was no yellow and wide-shining Strath-Terry, with its
-knolls of purple heather and its devious rippling burns, but
-only the great, dark, grim, mysterious city, weltering in its
-smoke, and dully groaning, as it were, under the grinding
-burden of its monotonous toil.
-
-As the Twelfth of August drew near he became more
-and more restless. He had written to Lord Ailine to say
-that, if he could be of any use, he would take a run up to
-Inver-Mudal for a week or so, just to see things started for
-the season; but Lord Ailine had considerately refused the
-offer, saying that everything seemed going on well enough,
-except, indeed, that Lugar the Gordon setter was in a fair
-way of being spoilt, for that, owing to Ronald's parting
-injunctions, there was not a man or boy about the place
-would subject the dog to any kind of chastisement or
-discipline whatever. And it sounded strange to Ronald to
-hear that he was still remembered away up there in the
-remote little hamlet.
-
-On the morning of the day before the Twelfth his books
-did not get much attention. He kept going to the window
-to watch the arrivals at the railway station opposite,
-wondering whether this one or that was off and away to the wide
-moors and the hills. Then, about mid-day, he saw a young
-lad bring up four dogs—a brace of setters, a small spaniel,
-and a big brown retriever—and give them over in charge
-to a porter. Well, human nature could not stand this any
-longer. His books were no longer thought of; on went
-his Glengarry cap; and in a couple of minutes he was
-across the road and into the station, where the porter was
-hauling the dogs along the platform.
-
-'Here, my man, I'll manage the doggies for ye,' he
-said, getting hold of the chains and straps; and of
-course the dogs at once recognised in him a natural
-ally and were less alarmed. A shambling, bow-legged
-porter hauling at them they could not understand at all;
-but in the straight figure and sun-tanned cheek and
-clear eye of the newcomer they recognised features
-familiar to them; and then he spoke to them as if he
-knew them.
-
-'Ay, and what's your name, then?—Bruce, or Wallace,
-or Soldier?—but there'll no be much work for you for a
-while yet. It's you, you two bonnie lassies, that'll be
-amongst the heather the morn; and well I can see ye'll
-work together, and back each other, and just set an example
-to human folk. And if ye show yourselves just a wee bit
-eager at the beginning o' the day—well, well, well, we all
-have our faults, and that one soon wears off. And what's
-your names, then?—Lufra, or Nell, or Bess, or Fan? And
-you, you wise auld chiel—I'm thinking ye could get a grip
-o' a mallard that would make him imagine he had got back
-into his mother's nest—you're a wise one—the Free Kirk
-elder o' the lot'—for, indeed, the rest of them were all
-pawing at him, and licking his hands, and whimpering their
-friendship. The porter had to point out to him that he,
-the porter, could not stand there the whole day with 'a wheen
-dogs;' whereupon Ronald led these new companions of his
-along to the dog-box that had been provided for them, and
-there, when they had been properly secured, the porter left
-him. Ronald could still talk to them however, and ask
-them questions; and they seemed to understand well
-enough: indeed, he had not spent so pleasant a half-hour
-for many and many a day.
-
-There chanced to come along the platform a little, wiry,
-elderly man, with a wholesome-looking weather-tanned face,
-who was carrying a bundle of fishing-rods over his shoulder;
-and seeing how Ronald was engaged he spoke to him in
-passing and began to talk about the dogs.
-
-'Perhaps they're your dogs?' Ronald said.
-
-'No, no, our folk are a' fishing folk,' said the little old
-man, who was probably a gardener or something of the kind,
-and who seemed to take readily to this new acquaintance.
-'I've just been in to Glasgow to get a rod mended, and to
-bring out a new one that the laird has bought for himself.'
-
-He grinned in a curious sarcastic way.
-
-'He's rather a wee man; and this rod—Lord sakes, ye
-never saw such a thing! it would break the back o' a
-Samson—bless ye, the butt o't's like a weaver's beam; and
-for our gudeman to buy a thing like that—well, rich folk
-hae queer ways o' spending their money.'
-
-He was a friendly old man; and this joke of his
-master having bought so tremendous an engine seemed to
-afford him so much enjoyment that when Ronald asked
-to be allowed to see this formidable weapon he said at
-once—
-
-'Just you come along outside there, and we'll put it
-thegither, and ye'll see what kind o' salmon-rod an old man
-o' five foot five thinks he can cast wi'——'
-
-'If it's no taking up too much of your time,' Ronald
-suggested, but eager enough he was to get a salmon-rod
-into his fingers again.
-
-'I've three quarters of an hour to wait,' was the reply,
-'for I canna make out they train books ava.'
-
-They went out beyond the platform to an open space,
-and very speedily the big rod was put together. It was
-indeed an enormous thing; but a very fine rod, for all that;
-and so beautifully balanced and so beautifully pliant that
-Ronald, after having made one or two passes through the
-air with it, could not help saying to the old man, and rather
-wistfully too—
-
-'I suppose ye dinna happen to have a reel about ye?'
-
-'That I have,' was the instant answer, 'and a brand new
-hundred-yard line on it too. Would ye like to try a cast?
-I'm thinking ye ken something about it.'
-
-It was an odd kind of place to try the casting-power of
-a salmon-rod, this dismal no-man's-land of empty trucks
-and rusted railway-points and black ashes; but no sooner
-had Ronald begun to send out a good line—taking care to
-recover it so that it should not fray itself along the gritty
-ground—than the old man perceived he had to deal with
-no amateur.
-
-'Man, ye're a dab, and no mistake! As clean a line as
-ever I saw cast! It's no the first time *you've* handled a
-salmon-rod, I'll be bound!'
-
-'It's the best rod I've ever had in my hand,' Ronald
-said, as he began to reel in the line again. 'I'm much
-obliged to ye for letting me try a cast—it's many a day now
-since I threw a line.'
-
-They took the rod down and put it in its case.
-
-'I'm much obliged to ye,' Ronald repeated (for the mere
-handling of this rod had fired his veins with a strange kind
-of excitement). 'Will ye come and take a dram?'
-
-'No, thank ye, I'm a teetotaller,' said the other; and
-then he glanced at Ronald curiously. 'But ye seem to ken
-plenty about dogs and about fishing and so on—what are
-ye doing in Glasgow and the morn the Twelfth? Ye are
-not a town lad?'
-
-'No, I'm not; but I have to live in the town at present,'
-was the answer. 'Well, good-day to ye; and many thanks
-for the trial o' the rod.'
-
-'Good-day, my lad; I wish I had your years and the
-strength o' your shouthers.'
-
-In passing Ronald said good-bye again to the handsome
-setters and the spaniel and the old retriever; and then he
-went on and out of the station, but it was not to return to
-his books. The seeing of so many people going away to the
-north, the talking with the dogs, the trial of the big salmon-rod,
-had set his brain a little wild. What if he were to go
-back and beg of the withered old man to take him with
-him—ay, even as the humblest of gillies, to watch, gaff in
-hand, by the side of the broad silver-rippling stream, or to
-work in a boat on a blue-ruffled loch! To jump into a
-third-class carriage and know that the firm inevitable grip
-of the engine was dragging him away into the clearer light,
-the wider skies, the glad free air! No wonder they said
-that fisher folk were merry folk; the very jolting of the
-engine would in such a case have a kind of music in it;
-how easily could one make a song that would match with
-the swing of the train! It was in his head now, as he
-rapidly and blindly walked away along the Cowcaddens,
-and along the New City Road, and along the Western
-Road—random rhymes, random verses, that the jolly
-company could sing together as the engine thundered along—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | Out of the station we rattle away,
- | Wi' a clangour of axle and wheel;
- | There's a merrier sound that we knew in the north—
- | The merry, merry shriek of the reel!
- |
- | O you that shouther the heavy iron gun,
- | And have steep, steep braes to speel—
- | We envy you not; enough is for us
- | The merry, merry shriek of the reel!
- |
- | When the twenty-four pounder leaps in the air,
- | And the line flies out with a squeal—
- | O that is the blessedest sound upon earth,
- | The merry, merry shriek of the reel!
- |
- | So here's to good fellows!—for them that are not,
- | Let them gang and sup kail wi' the deil!
- | We've other work here—so look out, my lads,
- | For the first, sharp shriek of the reel!
- |
-
-He did not care to put the rough-jolting verses down on
-paper, for the farther and the more rapidly he walked away
-out of the town the more was his brain busy with pictures
-and visions of all that they would be doing at this very
-moment at Inver-Mudal.
-
-'God bless me,' he said to himself, 'I could almost
-swear I hear the dogs whimpering in the kennels.'
-
-There would be the young lads looking after the panniers
-and the ponies; and the head-keeper up at the lodge
-discussing with Lord Ailine the best way of taking the hill in
-the morning, supposing the wind to remain in the same
-direction; and Mr. Murray at the door of the inn, smoking
-his pipe as usual; and the pretty Nelly indoors waiting
-upon the shooting party just arrived from the south and
-listening to all their wants. And Harry would be wondering,
-amid all this new bustle and turmoil, why his master did
-not put in an appearance; perhaps scanning each succeeding
-dog-cart or waggonette that came along the road; and then,
-not so blithe-spirited, making his way to the Doctor's house.
-Comfort awaited him there, at all events; for Ronald had
-heard that Meenie had taken pity on the little terrier, and
-that it was a good deal oftener with her than at the inn.
-Only all this seemed now so strange; the great dusk city
-lay behind him like a nightmare from which he had but
-partially escaped, and that with tightened breath; and he
-seemed to be straining his ears to catch those soft and
-friendly voices so far away. And then later on, as the
-darkness fell, what would be happening there? The lads
-would be coming along to the inn; lamps lit, and chairs
-drawn in to the table; Mr. Murray looking in at times with
-his jokes, and perhaps with a bit of a treat on so great an
-occasion. And surely—surely—as they begin to talk of
-this year and of last year and of the changes—surely some
-one will say—perhaps Nelly, as she brings in the ale—but
-surely some one will say—as a mere word of friendly
-remembrance—'Well, I wish Ronald was here now with his
-pipes, to play us *The Barren Rocks of Aden*? Only a single
-friendly word of remembrance—it was all that he craved.
-
-He struck away south through Dowanhill and Partick,
-and crossed the Clyde at Govan Ferry; then he made his
-way back to the town and Jamaica Street bridge; and
-finally, it being now dusk, looked in to see whether
-Mrs. Menzies was at leisure for the evening.
-
-'What's the matter, Ronald?' she said instantly, as he
-entered, for she noticed that his look was careworn and
-strange.
-
-'Well, Katie, lass, I don't quite know what's the
-matter wi' me, but I feel as if I just couldna go back to
-that room of mine and sit there by myself—at least not
-yet; I think I've been put a bit daft wi' seeing the people
-going away for the Twelfth; and if ye wouldna mind my
-sitting here for a while with ye, for the sake o' company——'
-
-'Mind!' she said. 'Mind! What I do mind is that
-you should be ganging to that lodging-house at a', when
-there's a room—and a comfortable room, though I say it
-that shouldn't—in this very house at your disposal,
-whenever ye like to bring your trunk till it. There it is—an
-empty room, used by nobody—and who more welcome to
-it than my ain cousin? I'll tell ye what, Ronald, my lad,
-ye're wearing yoursel' away on a gowk's errand. Your
-certificate! How do ye ken ye'll get your certificate?
-How do ye ken ye will do such great things with it when
-ye get it? You're a young man; you'll no be a young
-man twice; what I say is, take your fling when ye can get
-it! Look at Jimmy Laidlaw—he's off the first thing in
-the morning to the Mearns—£15 for his share of the
-shooting—do ye think he can shoot like you?—and why
-should ye no have had your share too?'
-
-'Well, it was very kind of you, Katie, woman, to make
-the offer; but—but—there's a time for everything.'
-
-'Man, I could have driven ye out every morning in the
-dog-cart! and welcome. I'm no for having young folk
-waste the best years of their life, and find out how little
-use the rest o't's to them—no that I consider mysel' one
-o' the auld folk yet——'
-
-'You, Katie dear!' whined old mother Paterson from
-her millinery corner. 'You—just in the prime o' youth,
-one micht say! you one o' the auld folk?—ay, in thirty
-years' time maybe!'
-
-'Take my advice, Ronald, my lad,' said the widow
-boldly. 'Dinna slave away for naething—because folk
-have put fancy notions into your head. Have a better
-opinion o' yoursel'! Take your chance o' life when ye
-can get it—books and books, what's the use o' books?'
-
-'Too late now—I've made my bed and maun lie on it,'
-he said gloomily; but then he seemed to try to shake off
-this depression. 'Well, well, lass, Rome was not built in
-a day. And if I were to throw aside my books, what
-then? How would that serve? Think ye that that
-would make it any the easier for me to get a three-weeks'
-shooting wi' Jimmy Laidlaw?'
-
-'And indeed ye might have had that in any case, and
-welcome,' said Kate Menzies, with a toss of her head.
-'Who is Jimmy Laidlaw, I wonder! But it's no use
-arguin' wi' ye, Ronald, lad; he that will to Cupar maun to
-Cupar;' only I dinna like to see ye looking just ill.'
-
-'Enough said, lass; I didna come here to torment ye
-with my wretched affairs,' he answered; and at this moment
-the maidservant entered to lay the cloth for supper, while
-Mrs. Menzies withdrew to make herself gorgeous for the
-occasion.
-
-He was left with old mother Paterson.
-
-'There's none so blind as them that winna see,' she
-began, in her whining voice.
-
-'What is't?'
-
-'Ay, ay,' she continued, in a sort of maundering
-soliloquy, 'a braw woman like that—and free-handed as
-the day—she could have plenty offers if she liked; But
-there's none so blind as them that winna see. There's
-Mr. Laidlaw there, a good-looking man, and wan wi' a
-good penny at the bank; and wouldna he just jump at
-the chance, if she had a nod or a wink for him? But
-Katie was aye like that—headstrong; she would aye
-have her ain way—and there she is, a single woman, a
-braw, handsome, young woman—and weel provided for—weel
-provided for—only it's no every one that takes
-her fancy. A prize like that, to be had for the asking!
-Dear me—but there's nane so blind as them that winna see.'
-
-It was not by any means the first time that mother
-Paterson had managed to drop a few dark hints—and
-much to his embarrassment, moreover, for he could not
-pretend to ignore their purport. Nay, there was
-something more than that. Kate Menzies's rough-and-ready
-friendliness for her cousin had of late become more and
-more pronounced—almost obtrusive, indeed. She wanted
-to have the mastery of his actions altogether. She would
-have him pitch his books aside and come for a drive with
-her whether he was in the humour or no. She offered
-him the occupancy of a room which, if it was not actually
-within the tavern, communicated with it. She seemed
-unable to understand why he should object to her paying
-£15 to obtain for him a share in a small bit of conjoint
-shooting out at the Mearns. And so forth in many ways.
-Well, these things, taken by themselves, he might have
-attributed to a somewhat tempestuous good-nature; but
-here was this old woman, whenever a chance occurred,
-whining about the folly of people who did not see that
-Katie dear was so handsome and generous and so
-marvellous a matrimonial prize. Nor could he very well tell
-her to mind her own business, for that would be admitting
-that he understood her hints.
-
-However, on this occasion he had not to listen long;
-for presently Mrs. Menzies returned, smiling, good-natured,
-radiant in further finery; and then they all had supper
-together; and she did her best to console her cousin for
-being cooped up in the great city on the eve of the
-Twelfth. And Ronald was very grateful to her; and
-perhaps, in his eager desire to keep up this flow of high
-spirits, and to forget what was happening at Inver-Mudal
-and about to happen, he may have drunk a little too
-much; at all events, when Laidlaw and Jaap and the
-skipper came in they found him in a very merry mood,
-and Kate Menzies equally hilarious and happy. Songs?—he
-was going to no Harmony Club that night, he
-declared—he would sing them as many songs as ever they
-liked—but he was not going to forsake his cousin. Nor
-were the others the least unwilling to remain where they
-were; for here they were in privacy, and the singing was
-better, and the liquor unexceptionable. The blue smoke
-rose quietly in the air; the fumes of Long John warmed
-blood and brain; and then from time to time they heard
-of the brave, or beautiful, or heart-broken maidens of
-Scotch song—Maggie Lauder, or Nelly Munro, or Barbara
-Allan, as the chance might be—and music and good
-fellowship and whisky all combined to throw a romantic
-halo round these simple heroines.
-
-'But sing us one o' your own, Ronald, my lad—there's
-none better, and that's what I say!' cried the widow; and
-as she happened to be passing his chair at the time—going
-to the sideboard for some more lemons, she slapped him
-on the shoulder by way of encouragement.
-
-'One o' my own?' said he. 'But which—which—lass?
-Oh, well, here's one.'
-
-He lay back in his chair, and quite at haphazard and
-carelessly and jovially began to sing—in that clearly
-penetrating voice that neither tobacco smoke nor whisky seemed
-to affect—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | Roses white, roses red,
- | Roses in the lane,
- | Tell me, roses red and white,
- | Where is——
-
-And then suddenly something seemed to grip his heart.
-But the stumble was only for the fiftieth part of a second.
-He continued:
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | Where is Jeannie gane?
-
-And so he finished the careless little verses. Nevertheless,
-Kate Menzies, returning to her seat, had noticed that quick,
-instinctive pulling of himself up.
-
-'And who's Jeannie when she's at home?' she asked
-saucily.
-
-'Jeannie?' he said, with apparent indifference. 'Jeannie?
-There's plenty o' that name about.'
-
-'Ay; and how many o' them are at Inver-Mudal?' she
-asked, regarding him shrewdly, and with an air which he
-resented.
-
-But the little incident passed. There was more singing,
-drinking, smoking, talking of nonsense and laughing.
-And at last the time came for the merry companions to
-separate; and he went away home through the dark streets
-alone. He had drunk too much, it must be admitted;
-but he had a hard head; and he had kept his wits about
-him; and even now as he ascended the stone stairs to his
-lodgings he remembered with a kind of shiver, and also
-with not a little heartfelt satisfaction, how he had just
-managed to save himself from bringing Meenie's name
-before that crew.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`ENTANGLEMENTS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER XIV.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- ENTANGLEMENTS.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-And then came along the great evening on which the first
-of Ronald's songs that Mr. Jaap had set to music was to
-be sung at the Harmony Club. Ronald had unluckily got
-into the way of going a good deal to that club. It was a
-relief from weary days and vain regrets; it was a way of
-escape from the too profuse favours that Kate Menzies
-wished to shower upon him. Moreover, he had become
-very popular there. His laugh was hearty; his jokes and
-sarcasms were always good-natured; he could drink with
-the best without getting quarrelsome. His acquaintanceship
-rapidly extended; his society was eagerly bid for, in
-the rough-and-ready fashion that prevails towards midnight;
-and long after the club was closed certain of these
-boon-companions would 'keep it up' in this or the other
-bachelor's lodgings, while through the open window there
-rang out into the empty street the oft-repeated chorus—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'We are na fou', we're nae that fou',
- | But just a drappie in our e'e;
- | The cock may craw, the day may daw,
- | And aye we'll taste the barky bree!'
-
-The night-time seemed to go by so easily; the daytime
-was so slow. He still did his best, it is true, to get on with
-this work that had so completely lost all its fascination for
-him; and he tried hard to banish dreams. For one thing,
-he had gathered together all the fragments of verse he had
-written about Meenie, and had added thereto the little
-sketch of Inver-Mudal she had given him; and that parcel
-he had resolutely locked away, so that he should no longer
-be tempted to waste the hours in idle musings, and in
-useless catechising of himself as to how he came to be
-in Glasgow at all. He had forborne to ask from Maggie
-the answer that Meenie had sent to her letter. In truth,
-there were many such; for there was almost a constant
-correspondence between these two; and as the chief
-subject of Maggie's writings was always and ever Ronald,
-there were no doubt references to him in the replies that
-came from Inver-Mudal. But he only heard vaguely of
-these; he did not call often at his brother's house; and
-he grew to imagine that the next definite news he would
-hear about Meenie would be to the effect that she had
-been sent to live with the Stuarts of Glengask, with a view
-to her possible marriage with some person in their rank of
-life.
-
-There was a goodly to-do at the Harmony Club on the
-evening of the production of the new song; for Ronald, as
-has been said, was much of a favourite; and his friends
-declared that if Jaap's music was at all up to the mark,
-then the new piece would be placed on the standard and
-permanent list. Mr. Jaap's little circle, on the other
-hand, who had heard the air, were convinced that the
-refrain would be caught at once; and as the success of
-the song seemed thus secure, Mrs. Menzies had resolved
-to celebrate the occasion by a supper after the
-performance, and Jimmy Laidlaw had presented her, for that
-purpose, with some game which he declared was of his
-own shooting.
-
-'What's the use o' making such a fuss about nothing?'
-Ronald grumbled.
-
-'What?' retorted the big skipper facetiously. 'Naething?
-Is bringing out a new poet naething?'
-
-Now this drinking song, as it turned out, was a very
-curious kind of drinking song. Observe that it was written
-by a young fellow of eight-and-twenty; of splendid physique,
-and of as yet untouched nerve, who could not possibly
-have had wide experience of the vanities and disappointments
-of human life. What iron had entered into his soul,
-then, that a gay and joyous drinking song should have
-been written in this fashion?—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | Good friends and neighbours, life is short,
- | And man, they say, is made to mourn;
- | Dame Fortune makes us all her sport,
- | And laughs our very best to scorn:
- | Well, well; we'll have, if that be so,
- | A merry glass before we go.
- |
- | The blue-eyed lass will change her mind,
- | And give her kisses otherwhere;
- | And she'll be cruel that was kind,
- | And pass you by with but a stare:
- | Well, well; we'll have, if that be so,
- | A merry glass before we go.
- |
- | The silly laddie sits and fills
- | Wi' dreams and schemes the first o' life;
- | And then comes heap on heap o' ills,
- | And squalling bairns and scolding wife:
- | Well, well; we'll have, if that be so,
- | A merry glass before we go.
- |
- | Come stir the fire and make us warm;
- | The night without is dark and wet;
- | An hour or twa 'twill do nae harm
- | The dints o' fortune to forget:
- | So now will have, come weal or woe,
- | Another glass before we go.
- |
- | To bonny lasses, honest blades,
- | We'll up and give a hearty cheer;
- | Contention is the worst of trades—
- | We drink their health, both far and near:
- | And so we'll have, come weal or woe,
- | Another glass before we go.
- |
- | And here's ourselves!—no much to boast;
- | For man's a wean that lives and learns;
- | And some win hame, and some are lost;
- | But still—we're all John Thomson's bairns!
- | So here, your hand!—come weal or woe,
- | Another glass before we go!
- |
-
-'*And some win hame, and some are lost*'—this was a
-curious note to strike in a bacchanalian song; but of course
-in that atmosphere of tobacco and whisky and loud-voiced
-merriment such minor touches were altogether unnoticed.
-
-'Gentlemen,' called out the rubicund chairman, rapping
-on the table, 'silence, if you please. Mr. Aikman is about
-to favour us with a new song written by our recently-elected
-member, Mr. Ronald Strang, the music by our old friend
-Mr. Jaap. Silence—silence, if you please.'
-
-Mr. Aikman, who was a melancholy-looking youth, with
-a white face, straw-coloured hair, and almost colourless eyes,
-stepped on to the platform, and after the accompanist had
-played a few bars of prelude, began the song. Feeble as
-the young man looked, he had, notwithstanding, a powerful
-baritone voice; and the air was simple, with a well-marked
-swing in it; so that the refrain—at first rather uncertain
-and experimental—became after the first verse more and
-more general, until it may be said that the whole room
-formed the chorus. And from the very beginning it was
-clear that the new song was going to be a great success.
-Any undercurrent of reflection—or even of sadness—there
-might be in it was not perceived at all by this roaring
-assemblage; the refrain was the practical and actual thing;
-and when once they had fairly grasped the air, they sang
-the chorus with a will. Nay, amid the loud burst of
-applause that followed the last verse came numerous cries
-for an encore; and these increased until the whole room
-was clamorous; and then the pale-faced youth had to step
-back on to the platform and get through all of the verses
-again.
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'So here, your hand!—come weal or woe,
- | Another glass before we go!'
-
-roared the big skipper and Jimmy Laidlaw with the best of
-them; and then in the renewed thunder of cheering that
-followed—
-
-'Man, I wish Kate Menzies was here,' said the one; and—
-
-'Your health, Ronald, lad; ye've done the trick this
-time,' said the other.
-
-'Gentlemen,' said the chairman, again calling them to
-silence, 'I propose that the thanks of the club be given to
-these two members whom I have named, and who have
-kindly allowed us to place this capital song on our
-permanent list.'
-
-'I second that, Mr. Chairman,' said a little, round, fat
-man, with a beaming countenance and a bald head; 'and
-I propose that we sing that song every night just afore we
-leave.'
-
-But this last suggestion was drowned amidst laughter and
-cries of dissent. 'What?—instead of "Auld Lang Syne"?'
-'Ye're daft, John Campbell.' 'Would ye hae the ghost o'
-Robbie Burns turning up?' Indeed, the chairman had to
-interpose and suavely say that while the song they had just
-heard would bring any such pleasant evenings as they spent
-together to an appropriate close, still, they would not disturb
-established precedent; there would be many occasions, he
-hoped, for them to hear this production of two of their
-most talented members.
-
-In the interval of noise and talk and laughter that
-followed, it seemed to Ronald that half the people in the
-hall wanted him to drink with them. Fame came to him
-in the shape of unlimited proffers of glasses of whisky; and
-he experienced so much of the delight of having become a
-public character as consisted in absolute strangers assuming
-the right to make his acquaintance off-hand. Of course
-they were all members of the same club; and in no case
-was very strict etiquette observed within these four walls;
-nevertheless Ronald found that he had immediately and
-indefinitely enlarged the circle of his acquaintance; and
-that this meant drink.
-
-'Another glass?' he said, to one of those strangers who
-had thus casually strolled up to the table where he sate.
-'My good friend, there was nothing said in that wretched
-song about a caskful. I've had too many other ones
-already.'
-
-However, relief came; the chairman hammered on the
-table; the business of the evening was resumed; and the
-skipper, Jaap, Laidlaw, and Ronald were left to
-themselves.
-
-Now there is no doubt that this little circle of friends
-was highly elated over the success of the new song; and
-Ronald had been pleased enough to hear the words he had
-written so quickly caught up and echoed by that, to him,
-big assemblage. Probably, too, they had all of them, in
-the enthusiasm of the moment, been somewhat liberal in
-their cups; at all events, a little later on in the evening,
-when Jimmy Laidlaw stormily demanded that Ronald should
-sing a song from the platform—to show them what East
-Lothian could do, as Kate Menzies had said—Ronald did
-not at once, as usual, shrink from the thought of facing so
-large an audience. It was the question of the accompaniment,
-he said. He had had no practice in singing to a
-piano. He would put the man out. Why should he not
-sing here—if sing he must—at the table where they were
-sitting? That was what he was used to; he had no skill
-in keeping correct time; he would only bother the
-accompanist, and bewilder himself.
-
-'No, I'll tell ye what it is, Ronald, my lad,' his friend
-Jaap said to him. 'I'll play the accompaniment for ye, if
-ye pick out something I'm familiar wi'; and don't you heed
-me; you look after yourself. Even if ye change the key—and
-that's not likely—I'll look after ye. Is't a bargain?'
-
-Well, he was not afraid—on this occasion. It was
-announced from the chair that Mr. Ronald Strang, to whom
-they were already indebted, would favour the company with
-'The MacGregors' Gathering,' accompanied by Mr. Jaap;
-and in the rattle of applause that followed this announcement,
-Ronald made his way across the floor and went up
-the couple of steps leading to the platform. Why he had
-consented he hardly knew, nor did he stay to ask. It
-was enough that he had to face this long hall, and its
-groups of faces seen through the pale haze of the tobacco
-smoke; and then the first notes of the piano startled him
-into the necessity of getting into the same key. He
-began—a little bewildered, perhaps, and hearing his own voice
-too consciously—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
- | And the clan has a name that is nameless by day.'
-
-'Louder, man, louder!' the accompanist muttered,
-under his breath.
-
-Whether it was this admonition, or whether it was that
-he gained confidence from feeling himself in harmony with
-the firm-struck notes of the accompaniment, his voice rose
-in clearness and courage, and he got through the first verse
-with very fair success. Nay, when he came to the second,
-and the music went into a pathetic minor, the sensitiveness
-of his ear still carried him through bravely—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'Glenorchy's proud mountains, Colchurn and her towers,
- | Glenstrae and Glen Lyon no longer are ours—
- | We're landless, landless, landless, Gregalach.'
-
-All this was very well done; for he began to forget his
-audience a little, and to put into his singing something of
-the expression that had come naturally enough to him when
-he was away on the Clebrig slopes or wandering along
-Strath-Terry. As for the audience—when he had finished
-and stepped back to his seat—they seemed quite electrified.
-Not often had such a clear-ringing voice penetrated that
-murky atmosphere. But nothing would induce Ronald to
-repeat the performance.
-
-'What made me do it?' he kept asking himself. 'What
-made me do it? Bless me, surely I'm no fou'?'
-
-'Ye've got a most extraordinarily fine voice, Mr. Strang,'
-the chairman said, in his most complaisant manner, 'I hope
-it's not the last time ye'll favour us.'
-
-Ronald did not answer this. He seemed at once moody
-and restless. Presently he said—
-
-'Come away, lads, come away. In God's name let's
-get a breath o' fresh air—the smoke o' this place is like the
-bottomless pit.'
-
-'Then let's gang down and have a chat wi' Kate Menzies,'
-said Jimmy Laidlaw at once.
-
-'Ye're after that supper, Jimmy!' the big skipper said
-facetiously.
-
-'What for no? Would ye disappoint the woman; and
-her sae anxious to hear what happened to Strang's poetry?
-Come on, Ronald—she'll be as proud as Punch. And
-we'll tell her about "The MacGregors' Gathering"'—she
-said East Lothian would show them something.'
-
-'Very well, then—very well; anything to get out o'
-here,' Ronald said; and away they all went down to the
-tavern.
-
-The widow received them most graciously; and very
-sumptuous indeed was the entertainment she had provided
-for them. She knew that the drinking song would be
-successful—if the folk had common sense and ears. And
-he had sung 'The MacGregors' Gathering' too?—well, had
-they ever heard singing like that before?
-
-'But they have been worrying you?' she said, glancing
-shrewdly at him. 'Or, what's the matter—ye look down
-in the mouth—indeed, Ronald, ye've never looked yoursel'
-since the night ye came in here just before the
-grouse-shooting began. Here, man, drink a glass o' champagne;
-that'll rouse ye up.'
-
-Old mother Paterson was at this moment opening a bottle.
-
-'Not one other drop of anything, Katie, lass, will I
-drink this night,' Ronald said.
-
-'What? A lively supper we're likely to have, then!'
-the widow cried. 'Where's your spunk, man? I think
-ye're broken-hearted about some lassie—that's what it is!
-Here, now.'
-
-She brought him the foaming glass of champagne; but
-he would not look at it.
-
-'And if I drink to your health out o' the same glass?'
-
-She touched the glass with her lips.'
-
-'There, now, if you're a man, ye'll no refuse noo.'
-
-Nor could he. And then the supper came along; and
-there was eating and talking and laughing and further
-drinking, until a kind of galvanised hilarity sprang up once
-more amongst them. And she would have Ronald declare
-to them which of the lasses in Sutherlandshire it was who
-had broken his heart for him; and, in order to get her
-away from that subject, he was very amenable in her hands,
-and would do anything she bade him, singing first one
-song and then another, and not refusing the drinking of
-successive toasts. As for the others, they very prudently
-declined having anything to do with champagne. But
-Ronald was her pet, her favourite; and she had got a
-special box of cigars for him—all wrapped up in silverfoil
-and labelled; and she would have them tell her over and
-over again how Ronald's voice sounded in the long hall when
-he sang—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'Glenstrae and Glen Lyon no longer are ours?
-
-and she would have them tell her again of the thunders of
-cheering that followed—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'Well, well; we'll have, if that be so,
- | Another glass before we go.'
-
-Nay, she would have them try a verse or two of it there
-and then—led by Mr. Jaap; and she herself joined in the
-chorus; and they clinked their glasses together, and were
-proud of their vocalisation and their good comradeship.
-Indeed, they prolonged this jovial evening as late as the
-law allowed them; and then the widow said gaily—
-
-'There's that poor man thinks I'm gaun to allow him
-to gang away to that wretched hole o' a lodging o' his,
-where he's just eating his heart out wi' solitariness and a
-wheen useless books. But I'm not. I ken better than
-that, Ronald, my lad. Whilst ye've a' been singing and
-roaring, I've had a room got ready for ye; and there ye'll
-sleep this night, my man—for I'm not going to hae ye
-march away through the lonely streets, and maybe cut
-your throat ere daybreak; and ye can lock yourself in, if
-ye're feared that any warlock or bogle is likely to come
-and snatch ye; and in the morning ye'll come down and
-have your breakfast wi' auntie Paterson and me—and
-then—what then? What do ye think? When the dog-cart's
-at the door, and me gaun to drive ye oot to Campsie
-Glen? There, laddie, that's the programme; and wet or
-dry is my motto. If it's wet we'll sing "Come under my
-plaidie"; and we'll take a drop o' something comfortable
-wi' us to keep out the rain.'
-
-'I wish I was gaun wi' ye, Mistress,' the big skipper said.
-
-'Two's company and three's none,' said Kate Menzies,
-with a frank laugh. 'Is't a bargain, Ronald?'
-
-'It's a bargain, lass; and there's my hand on't,' he said.
-'Now, where's this room—for I don't know whether it has
-been the smoke, or the singing, or the whisky, or all o'
-them together, but my head's like a ship sailing before the
-wind, without any helm to steer her.'
-
-'Your head!' she said proudly. 'Your head's like
-iron, man; there's nothing the matter wi' ye. And here's
-Alec—he'll show you where your room is; and in the
-morning ring for whatever ye want; mind ye, a glass o'
-champagne and angostura bitters is just first-rate; and we'll
-have breakfast at whatever hour ye please—and then we'll
-be off to Campsie Glen.'
-
-The little party now broke up, each going his several
-way; and Ronald, having bade them all good-night,
-followed the ostler-lad Alec along one or two gloomy
-corridors until he found the room that had been prepared for
-him. As he got to bed he was rather sick and sorry about
-the whole night's proceedings, he scarcely knew why; and
-his thinking faculty was in a nebulous condition; and he
-only vaguely knew that he would rather not have pledged
-himself to go to Campsie Glen on the following morning.
-No matter—'*another glass before we go*,' that was the last of
-the song they had all shouted: he had forgotten that other
-line—'*and some win hame, and some are lost*.'
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`CAMPSIE GLEN`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER XV.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- CAMPSIE GLEN.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The next morning, between nine and ten o'clock, there was
-a rapping at his door, and then a further rapping, and then
-he awoke—confused, uncertain as to his whereabouts, and
-with his head going like a threshing machine. Again there
-came the loud rapping.
-
-'Come in, then,' he called aloud.
-
-The door was opened, and there was the young widow,
-smiling and jocund as the morn, and very smartly attired;
-and alongside of her was a servant-lass bearing a small tray,
-on which were a tumbler, a pint bottle of champagne, and
-some angostura bitters.
-
-'Bless me, woman,' he said, 'I was wondering where
-I was. And what's this now?—do ye want to make a
-drunkard o' me?'
-
-'Not I,' said Kate Menzies blithely, 'I want to make a
-man o' ye. Ye'll just take a glass o' this, Ronald, my lad;
-and then ye'll get up and come down to breakfast; for
-we're going to have a splendid drive. The weather's as
-bright and clear as a new shilling; and I've been up since
-seven o'clock, and I'm free for the day now. Here ye are,
-lad; this'll put some life into ye.'
-
-She shook a few drops of bitters into the tumbler, and
-then poured out a foaming measure of the amber-coloured
-wine, and offered it to him. He refused to take it.
-
-'I canna look at it, lass. There was too much o' that
-going last night.'
-
-'And the very reason you should take a glass now!'
-she said. 'Well, I'll leave it on the mantelpiece, and ye
-can take it when ye get up. Make haste, Ronald, lad; it's
-a pity to lose so fine a morning.'
-
-When they had left, he dressed as rapidly as possible,
-and went down. Breakfast was awaiting him—though it
-did not tempt him much. And then, by and by, the
-smart dog-cart was at the door; and a hamper was put in;
-and Kate Menzies got up and took the reins. There was
-no sick-and-sorriness about her at all events. She was
-radiant and laughing and saucy; she wore a driving-coat
-fastened at the neck by a horse-shoe brooch of brilliants,
-and a white straw hat with a wide-sweeping jet-black ostrich
-feather. It was clear that the tavern was a paying concern.
-
-'And why will ye aye sit behind, Mr. Strang?' old
-mother Paterson whined, as she made herself comfortable
-in front. 'I am sure Katie would rather have ye here than
-an auld wife like me. Ye could talk to her ever so much
-better.'
-
-'That would be a way to go driving through Glasgow
-town,' he said, as he swung himself up on the back seat;
-'a man in front and a woman behind! Never you fear;
-there can be plenty of talking done as it is.'
-
-But as they drove away through the city—and even
-Glasgow looked quite bright and cheerful on this sunny
-morning, and there was a stirring of cool air that was
-grateful enough to his throbbing temples—it appeared that
-the buxom widow wanted to have most of the talking to
-herself. She was very merry; and laughed at his penitential
-scorn of himself; and was for spurring him on to
-further poetical efforts.
-
-'East Lothian for ever!' she was saying, as they got
-away out by the north of the town. 'Didna I tell them?
-Ay, and ye've got to do something better yet, Ronald, my
-lad, than the "other glass before we go." You're no
-at that time o' life yet to talk as if everything had gone
-wrong; and the blue-eyed lass—what blue-eyed lass was it,
-I wonder, that passed ye by with but a stare? Let her,
-and welcome, the hussy; there's plenty others. But no, my
-lad, what I want ye to write is a song about Scotland, and
-the East Lothian part o't especially. Ye've no lived long
-enough in the Hielans to forget your ain country, have
-ye? and where's there a song about Scotland nowadays?
-"Caledonia's hills and dales"?—stuff!—I wonder Jaap
-would hae bothered his head about rubbish like that. No,
-no; we'll show them whether East Lothian canna do the
-trick!—and it's no the Harmony Club but the City Hall
-o' Glasgow that ye'll hear that song sung in—that's better
-like! Ye mind what Robbie says, Ronald, my lad?—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'E'en then a wish, I mind its power—
- | A wish that to my latest hour
- | Shall strongly heave my breast—
- | That I for poor auld Scotland's sake,
- | Some usefu' plan or book could make,
- | Or sing a sang at least.'
-
-That's what ye've got to do yet, my man.'
-
-And so they bowled along the wide whinstone road, out
-into this open landscape that seemed to lie behind a thin
-veil of pale-blue smoke. It was the country, no doubt; but
-a kind of sophisticated country; there were occasional
-grimy villages and railway-embankments and canals and
-what not; and the pathway that ran alongside the wide
-highway was of black ashes—not much like a Sutherlandshire
-road. However, as they got still farther away from
-the town matters improved. There were hedges and
-woods—getting a touch of the golden autumn on their
-foliage now; the landscape grew brighter; those hills far
-ahead of them rose into a fairly clear blue sky. And then
-the brisk motion and the fresher air seemed to drive away
-from him the dismal recollections of the previous night; he
-ceased to upbraid himself for having been induced to sing
-before all those people; he would atone for the recklessness
-of his potations by taking greater care in the future.
-So that when in due course of time they reached the inn
-at the foot of Campsie Glen, and had the horse and trap
-put up, and set out to explore the beauties of that not too
-savage solitude, he was in a sufficiently cheerful frame of
-mind, and Kate Menzies had no reason to complain of her
-companion.
-
-They had brought a luncheon basket with them; and as
-he had refused the proffered aid of a stable-lad, he had to
-carry this himself, and Kate Menzies was a liberal provider.
-Accordingly, as they began to make their way up the steep
-and slippery ascent—for rain had recently fallen, and the
-narrow path was sloppy enough—he had to leave the two
-women to look after themselves; and a fine haphazard
-scramble and hauling and pushing—with screams of fright
-and bursts of laughter—ensued. This was hardly the proper
-mood in which to seek out Nature in her sylvan retreats;
-but the truth is that the glen itself did not wear a very
-romantic aspect. No doubt there were massive boulders in
-the bed of the stream; and they had to clamber past
-precipitous rocks; and overhead was a wilderness of foliage.
-But everything was dull-hued somehow, and damp-looking,
-and dismal; the green-mossed boulders, the stems of the
-trees, the dark red earth were all of a sombre hue; while
-here and there the eye caught sight of a bit of newspaper,
-or of an empty soda-water bottle, or perchance of the
-non-idyllic figure of a Glasgow youth seated astride a
-fallen bough, a pot-hat on his head and a Manilla cheroot
-in his mouth. But still, it was more of the country than
-the Broomielaw; and when Kate and her companion had
-to pause in their panting struggle up the slippery path,
-and after she had recovered her breath sufficiently to
-demand a halt, she would turn to pick ferns from the
-dripping rocks, or to ask Ronald if there were any more
-picturesque place than this in Sutherlandshire. Now
-Ronald was not in the least afflicted by the common curse
-of travellers—the desire for comparison; he was well
-content to say that it was a 'pretty bit glen'; for one thing
-his attention was chiefly devoted to keeping his footing, for
-the heavy basket was a sore encumbrance.
-
-However, after some further climbing, they reached
-certain drier altitudes; and there the hamper was deposited,
-while they looked out for such trunks or big stones as
-would make convenient seats. The old woman was speechless
-from exhaustion; Kate was laughing at her own
-breathlessness, or miscalling the place for having dirtied
-her boots and her skirts; while Ronald was bringing things
-together for their comfort, so that they could have their
-luncheon in peace. This was not quite the same kind of
-a luncheon party as that he had attended on the shores of
-the far northern loch—with Miss Carry complacently
-regarding the silver-clear salmon lying on the smooth, dry
-greensward; and the American talking in his friendly
-fashion of the splendid future that lay before a capable
-and energetic young fellow in the great country beyond the
-seas; while all around them the sweet air was blowing, and
-the clear light shining, and the white clouds sailing high
-over the Clebrig slopes. Things were changed with him
-since then—he did not himself know how much they had
-changed. But in all circumstances he was abundantly
-good-natured and grateful for any kindness shown him;
-and as Kate Menzies had projected this trip mainly on his
-account, he did his best to promote good-fellowship, and
-was serviceable and handy, and took her raillery in excellent
-part.
-
-'Katie dear,' whimpered old mother Paterson, as Ronald
-took out the things from the hamper, 'ye jist spoil every one
-that comes near ye. Such extravagance—such waste—many's
-the time I wish ye would get married, and have a
-man to look after ye——'
-
-'Stop your havering—who would marry an auld woman
-like me?' said Mrs. Menzies with a laugh. 'Ay, and what's
-the extravagance, noo, that has driven ye oot o' your mind?'
-
-'Champagne again!' the old woman said, shaking her
-head. 'Champagne again! Dear me, it's like a Duke's
-house——'
-
-'What, ye daft auld craytur? Would ye have me take
-my cousin Ronald for his first trip to Campsie Glen, and
-bring out a gill o' whisky in a soda-water bottle?'
-
-'Indeed, Katie, lass, ye needna have brought one thing
-or the other for me,' he said. 'It's a drop o' water, and
-nothing else, that will serve my turn.'
-
-'We'll see about that,' she said confidently.
-
-Her provisioning was certainly of a sumptuous nature—far
-more sumptuous, indeed, than the luncheons the rich
-Americans used to have carried down for them to the
-lochside, and a perfect banquet as compared with the frugal
-bit of cold beef and bread that Lord Ailine and his friends
-allowed themselves on the hill. Then, as regards the
-champagne, she would take no refusal—he had to submit.
-She was in the gayest of moods; she laughed and joked;
-nay, at one point, she raised her glass aloft, and waved it
-round her head, and sang—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'O send Lewie Gordon hame,
- | And the lad I daurna name;
- | Though his back be at the wa',
- | Here's to him that's far awa'!'
- |
-
-'What, what, lass?' Ronald cried grimly. 'Are ye
-thinking ye're in a Highland glen? Do ye think it was
-frae places like this that the lads were called out to follow
-Prince Charlie?'
-
-'I carena—I carena!' she said; for what had trivial
-details of history to do with a jovial picnic in Campsie
-Glen? 'Come, Ronald, lad, tune up! Hang the Harmony
-Club!—give us a song in the open air!'
-
-'Here goes, then—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'It was about the Martinmas time,
- | And a gay time it was then, O,
- | That our guidwife had puddins to mak',
- | And she boiled them in the fan, O'—
-
-and then rang out the chorus, even the old mother
-Paterson joining in with a feeble treble—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'O the barrin' o' our door, weel, weel, weel,
- | And the barrin' o' our door, weel!'
- |
-
-'Your health and song, Ronald!' she cried, when he
-had finished—or rather when they all had finished. 'Man,
-if there was just a laddie here wi' a fiddle or a penny
-whistle I'd get up and dance a Highland Schottische wi'
-ye—auld as I am!'
-
-After luncheon, they set out for further explorations
-(having deposited the basket in a secret place) and always
-Kate Menzies's laugh was the loudest, her jokes the
-merriest.
-
-'Auld, say ye?' mother Paterson complained. 'A
-lassie—a very lassie! Ye can skip about like a
-twa-year-auld colt.'
-
-By and by they made their devious and difficult way
-down the glen again; and they had tea at the inn; and
-then they set out to drive back to Glasgow—and there was
-much singing the while. That is, up to a certain point;
-for this easy homeward drive, as it turned out, was destined
-to be suddenly and sharply stopped short, and that in a
-way that might have produced serious consequences. They
-were bowling merrily along, taking very little heed of
-anything on either side of them, when, as it chanced, a small
-boy who had gone into a field to recover a kite that had
-dropped there, came up unobserved behind the hedge, and
-threw the kite over, preparatory to his struggling through
-himself. The sudden appearance of this white thing
-startled the cob; it swerved to the other side of the road,
-hesitated, and was like to rear, and then getting an
-incautious cut from Kate's whip, away it tore along the highway,
-getting completely the mastery of her. Ronald got up
-behind.
-
-'Give me the reins, lass,' he called to her.
-
-'I'll manage him—the stupid beast!' she said; with
-her teeth shut firm.
-
-But all her pulling seemed to make no impression on
-the animal—nay, the trap was now swaying and jolting
-about in a most ominous manner.
-
-'If ye meet anything, we're done for, Kate—run the
-wheel into the hedge.'
-
-It was excellent advice, if it could have been properly
-followed; but unluckily, just at the very moment when,
-with all her might and main, she twisted the head of the
-cob to the side of the road, there happened to be a deep
-ditch there. Over the whole thing went—Ronald and
-Mrs. Menzies being pitched clean into the hedge; mother
-Paterson, not hanging on so well, being actually deposited
-on the other side, but in a gradual fashion. Oddly enough,
-the cob, with one or two pawings of his forefeet, got on to
-the road again, and the trap righted itself; while a farm-lad
-who had been coming along ran to the beast's head and
-held him. As it turned out, there was no harm done at all.
-
-But that, at first, was apparently not Kate Menzies's
-impression.
-
-'Ronald, Ronald,' she cried, and she clung to him
-frantically, 'I'm dying—I'm dying—kiss me!'
-
-He had got a grip of her, and was getting her on to her
-feet again.
-
-'There's nothing the matter wi' ye, woman,' he said,
-with unnecessary roughness.
-
-'Ronald, Ronald—I'm hurt—I'm dying—kiss me!'
-she cried, and she would have fallen away from him, but
-that he gathered her up, and set her upright on the road.
-
-'There's nothing the matter wi' ye—what? tumbling
-into a hawthorn hedge?—pull yourself together, woman!
-It's old mother Paterson that may have been hurt.'
-
-He left her unceremoniously to get over to the other
-side of the hedge, and as he went off she darted a look
-of anger—of violent rage, even—towards him, which
-happily he did not see. Moreover, she had to calm
-herself; the farm lad was looking on. And when at
-length mother Paterson—who was merely terrified, and
-was quite uninjured—was hoisted over or through the
-hedge, and they all prepared to resume their seats in the
-trap, Kate Menzies was apparently quite collected and
-mistress of herself, though her face was somewhat pale,
-and her manner was distinctly reserved and cold. She
-gave the lad a couple of shillings; got up and took the
-reins; waited until the others were seated, and then drove
-away without a word. Mother Paterson was loud in her
-thankfulness over such a providential escape; she had only
-had her wrists scratched slightly.
-
-Ronald was sensible of her silence, though he could not
-well guess the cause of it. Perhaps the fright had sobered
-down her high spirits; at all events, she was now more
-circumspect with her driving; and, as her attention was so
-much devoted to the cob, it was not for him to interfere.
-As they drew near Glasgow, however, she relaxed the cold
-severity of her manner, and made a few observations; and
-when they came in sight of St. Rollox, she even
-condescended to ask him whether he would not go on with
-them to the tavern and have some supper with them as
-usual.
-
-'I ought to go back to my work,' said he, 'and that's
-the truth. But it would be a glum ending for such an
-unusual holiday as this.'
-
-'Your prospects are not so very certain,' said Kate, who
-could talk excellent English when she chose, and kept her
-broad Scotch for familiar or affectionate intercourse. 'An
-hour or two one way or the other is not likely to make
-much difference.'
-
-'I am beginning to think that myself,' he said, rather
-gloomily.
-
-And then, with a touch of remorse for the depressing
-speech she had made, she tried to cheer him a little; and,
-in fact, insisted on his going on with them. She even
-quoted a couplet from his own song to him—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'An hour or twa 'twill do nae harm,
- | The dints a' fortune to forget';
-
-and she said that, after the long drive, he ought to have
-a famous appetite for supper, and that there would be a
-good story to tell about their being shot into a hawthorn
-hedge, supposing that the skipper and Laidlaw and Jaap
-came in in the evening.
-
-Nevertheless, all during the evening there was a certain
-restraint in her manner. Altogether gone was her profuse
-friendship and her pride in East Lothian, although she
-remained as hospitable as ever. Sometimes she regarded him
-sharply, as if trying to make out something. On his part,
-he thought she was probably a little tired after the fatigues
-of the day; perhaps, also, he preferred her quieter manner.
-
-Then again, when the 'drei Gesellen' came in, there
-was a little less hilarity than usual; and, contrary to her
-wont, she did not press them to stay when they proposed
-to adjourn to the club. Ronald, who had been vaguely
-resolving not to go near that haunt for some time to come,
-found that that was the alternative to his returning to his
-solitary lodging and his books at a comparatively early
-hour of the evening. Doubtless he should have conquered
-his repugnance to this later course; but the temptation—after
-a long day of pleasure-making—to finish up the last
-hour or so in the society of these good fellows was great.
-He went to the Harmony Club, and was made more
-welcome than ever; and somehow, in the excitement of the
-moment, he was induced to sing another song, and there
-were more people than ever claiming his acquaintance, and
-challenging him to have 'another one.'
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE DOWNWARD WAY`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CHAPTER XVI.
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- THE DOWNWARD WAY.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-With a fatal certainty he was going from bad to worse;
-and there was no one to warn him; and if any one had
-warned him, probably he would not have cared. Life had
-come to be for him a hopeless and useless thing. His
-own instinct had answered true, when the American was
-urging him to go and cast himself into the eager strife of
-the world, and press forward to the universal goal of wealth
-and ease and independence. 'I'd rather be "where the
-dun deer lie,"' he had said. Kingsley's poem had taken
-firm root in his mind, simply because it found natural soil
-there.
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | 'Nor I wadna be a clerk, mither, to bide aye ben,
- | Scrabbling ower the sheets o' parchment with a weary, weary pen:
- | Looking through the lang stane windows at a narrow strip o' sky,
- | Like a laverock in a withy cage, until I pine away and die.
- |
- | Ye'll bury me 'twixt the brae and the burn, in a glen far away,
- | Where I may hear the heathcock craw and the great harts bray;
- | And gin my ghaist can walk, mither, I'll go glowering at the sky,
- | The livelong night on the black hillsides where the dun deer lie.'
-
-His way of existence up there on the far hillsides—unlike
-that of the luckless outlaw—had been a perfectly happy
-and contented one. His sound common sense had put
-away from him that craving for fame which has rendered
-so miserable the lives of many rustic verse writers; he was
-proud of his occupation, grateful to the good friends around
-him, and always in excellent health and spirits. Another
-thing has to be said—to pacify the worthy folk who
-imagine that ambition must necessarily fill the mind of
-youth: had he come away from that sphere of careless
-content with a sufficient aim to strive for, perhaps affairs
-might have gone differently. If it could have been said to
-him: 'Fight your way to the worldly success that the
-Americans have so liberally prophesied for you; and then
-come back, and you will find Meenie Douglas awaiting
-you; and you shall win her and wear her, as the rose and
-crown of your life, in spite of all the Stuarts of
-Glengask'—then the little room in Port Dundas Road would no
-longer have been so gray; and all the future would have
-been filled with light and hope; and the struggle, however
-arduous and long, would have been glad enough. But
-with no such hope; with increasing doubts as to his
-ultimate success; and with a more dangerously increasing
-indifference as to whether he should ever reach that
-success, the temptations of the passing hour became
-irresistibly strong. And he became feebler to resist them.
-He did not care. After all, these gay evenings at the
-Harmony Club were something to look forward to during
-the long dull days; with a full glass and a good-going pipe
-and a roaring chorus the hours passed; and then from
-time to time there was the honour and glory of hearing
-one of his own songs sung. He was a great figure at these
-gatherings now; that kind of fame at least had come to
-him, and come to him unsought; and there were not
-wanting a sufficiency of rather muddle-headed creatures
-who declared that he was fit to rank with very distinguished
-names indeed in the noble roll-call of Scotland's poets;
-and who, unfortunately, were only too eager to prove the
-faith that was in them by asking him to drink at their
-expense.
-
-In this rhyming direction there was one very curious
-point: when he began to turn over the various pieces that
-might be made available for Mr. Jaap, he was himself
-astonished to find how little melody there was in them.
-Whatever little musical faculty he had seemed to be all
-locked up in the love-verses he had written about Meenie.
-Many of the fragments had other qualities—homely
-common sense; patriotism; a great affection for dumb
-animals; here and there sometimes a touch of humour or
-pathos; but somehow they did not *sing*. It is true that
-the following piece—
-
-.. class:: italics center
-
- SHOUTHER TO SHOUTHER.
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | From Hudson's Bay to the Rio Grand',
- | The Scot is ever a rover;
- | In New South Wales and in Newfoundland,
- | And all the wide world over;
- |
- | Chorus: But it's shouther to shouther, my bonnie lads,
- | And let every Scot be a brither;
- | And we'll work as we can, and we'll win if we can,
- | For the sake of our auld Scotch mither.
- |
- | She's a puir auld wife, wi' little to give;
- | And she's rather stint o' caressing;
- | But she's shown us how honest lives we may live,
- | And she's sent us out wi' her blessing.
- |
- | Chorus: And it's shouther to shouther, etc.
- |
- | Her land's no rick; and her crops are slim;
- | And I winna say much for the weather;
- | But she's given us legs that can gaily clim'
- | Up the slopes o' the blossoming heather.
- |
- | Chorus: And it's shouther to shouther, etc.
- |
- | And she's given us hearts that, whatever they say
- | (And I trow that we might be better)
- | There's one sair fault they never will hae—
- | Our mither, we'll never forget her!
- |
- | Chorus: And it's shouther to shouther, my bonnie lads,
- | And let every Scot be a brither;
- | And we'll work as we can, and we'll win if we can,
- | For the sake of our auld Scotch mither!
-
-had attained a great success at the Harmony Club;
-but that was merely because Mr. Jaap had managed to
-write for it an effective air, that could be easily caught
-up and sung in chorus; in itself there was no simple,
-natural 'lilt' whatever. And then, again, in his epistolary
-rhymes to friends and acquaintances (alas! that was all
-over now) there were many obvious qualities, but certainly
-not the lyrical one. Here, for example, are some verses
-he had sent in former days to a certain Johnnie Pringle,
-living at Tongue, who had had his eye on a young lass
-down Loch Loyal way:
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | O Johnnie, leave the lass alane;
- | Her mother has but that one wean;
- | For a' the others have been ta'en,
- | As weel ye ken, Johnnie.
- |
- | 'Tis true her bonnie e'en would rive
- | The heart o' any man alive;
- | And in the husry[#] she would thrive—
- | I grant ye that, Johnnie.
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent small
-
-[#] 'Husry,' housewifery.
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | But wad ye tak' awa the lass,
- | I tell ye what would come to pass,
- | The mother soon would hae the grass
- | Boon her auld head, Johnnie.
- |
- | They've got some gear, and bit o' land
- | That well would bear another hand;
- | Come down frae Tongue, and take your stand
- | By Loyal's side, Johnnie!
- |
- | Ye'd herd a bit, and work the farm,
- | And keep the widow-wife frae harm:
- | And wha would keep ye snug and warm
- | In winter-time, Johnnie?—
- |
- | The lass hersel'—that I'll be sworn!
- | And bonnier creature ne'er was born:
- | Come down the strath the morrow's morn,
- | Your best foot first, Johnnie!
-
-Well, there may be wise and friendly counsel in verses
-such as these; but they do not lend themselves readily to
-the musician who would adapt them for concert purposes.
-No; all such lyrical faculty as he possessed had been given
-in one direction. And yet not for one moment was he
-tempted to show Mr. Jaap any of those little love-lyrics
-that he had written about Meenie—those careless verses
-that seemed to sing themselves, as it were, and that were
-all about summer mornings, and red and white roses, and
-the carolling of birds, and the whispering of Clebrig's
-streams. Meenie's praises to be sung at the Harmony
-Club!—he could as soon have imagined herself singing
-there.
-
-One wet and miserable afternoon old Peter Jaap was
-passing through St. Enoch Square when, much to his
-satisfaction, he ran against the big skipper, who had just
-come out of the railway station.
-
-'Hallo, Captain,' said the little old man, 'back already?'
-
-'Just up frae Greenock; and precious glad to be ashore
-again, I can tell ye,' said Captain M'Taggart. 'That *Mary
-Jane* 'll be my grave, mark my words; I never get as far
-south as the Mull o' Galloway without wondering whether
-I'll ever see Ailsa Craig or the Tail o' the Bank again.
-Well, here I am this time; and I was gaun doon to hae a
-glass on the strength o't—to the widow's——'
-
-'We'll gang in some other place,' Mr. Jaap said. 'I
-want to hae a word wi' ye about that young fellow Strang.'
-
-They easily discovered another howf; and soon they
-were left by themselves in a little compartment, two big
-tumblers of ale before them.
-
-'Ay, and what's the matter wi' him?' said the skipper.
-
-'I dinna rightly ken,' the little old musician said, 'but
-something is. Ye see, I'm feared the lad has no' muckle
-siller——'
-
-'It's a common complaint, Peter!' the skipper said,
-with a laugh.
-
-'Ay; but ye see, the maist o' us hae some way o' leevin.
-That's no the case wi' Ronald. He came to Glasgow, as I
-understand it, wi' a sma' bit nest-egg; and he's been leevin
-on that ever since—every penny coming out o' his capital,
-and never a penny being added. That's enough to make
-a young fellow anxious.'
-
-'Ay?'
-
-'But there's mair than that. He's a proud kind o'
-chiel. It's just wonderfu' the way that Mrs. Menzies
-humours him, and pretends this and that so he'll no be at
-any expense; and when they gang out driving she takes
-things wi' her—and a lot o' that kind o' way o' working;
-but a' the same there's sma' expenses that canna be avoided,
-and deil a bit—she says—will he let her pay. And the
-sma' things maun be great things to him, if he's eating into
-his nest-egg in that way.'
-
-'It's easy getting out o' that difficulty,' said the big
-skipper, who was of a less sympathetic nature than the old
-musician. 'What for does he no stay at hame? He
-doesna need to gang driving wi' her unless he likes.'
-
-'It's no easy getting away frae Mrs. Menzies,' the old
-man said shrewdly, 'if she has a mind to take ye wi'
-her. And she hersel' sees that he canna afford to spend
-money even on little things; and yet she's feared to say
-anything to him. Man, dinna ye mind when she wanted
-him to take a room in the house?—what was that but that
-she meant him to have his board free? But no—the
-deevil has got some o' the Hielan pride in him; she was
-just feared to say anything mair about it. And at the
-club, too, it's no every one he'll drink wi' though there's
-plenty ready to stand Sam, now that Ronald is kent as a
-writer o' poetry. Not that but wi' ithers he's ower
-free—ay, confound him, he's getting the reputation o' a
-harum-scarum deil—if he takes a liking to a man, he'll gang off
-wi' him and his neighbours for the time being, and goodness
-knows when or where they'll stop. A bottle o' whisky
-in their pocket, and off they'll make; I heard the other
-week o' him and some o' them finding themselves at
-daybreak in Helensburgh—naught would do the rascal the
-night before but that he maun hae a sniff o' the saut
-sea-air; and off they set, him and them, the lang night through,
-until the daylight found them staring across to Roseneath
-and Kempoch Point. He's no in the best o' hands, that's
-the fact. If he would but marry the widow——'
-
-'What would Jimmy Laidlaw say to that?' the skipper
-said, with a loud laugh.
-
-'Jimmy Laidlaw? He hasna the ghost o' a chance so
-long as this young fellow's about. Kate's just daft about
-him; but he's no inclined that way, I can see—unless
-hunger should tame him. Weel, M'Taggart, I dinna like
-to see the lad being led away to the mischief. He's got
-into ill hands. If it's the want o' a settled way o' leevin
-that's worrying him, and driving him to gang wild and
-reckless at times, something should be done. I'm an auld
-man now; I've seen ower many young fellows like that
-gang to auld Harry; and I like this lad—I'm no going to
-stand by and look on without a word.'
-
-'Ay, and what would ye hiv me dae, Peter? Take
-him as a hand on board the *Mary Jane*?'
-
-'Na, na. The lad maun gang on wi' his surveying and
-that kind o' thing—though he seems less and less to think
-there'll be any solid outcome frae it. But what think ye o'
-this? There's Mr. Jackson paying they professionals from
-week to week; and here's a fellow wi' a finer natural voice
-than any o' them—if it had but a little training. Well,
-now, why shouldna Jackson pay the lad for his singing?'
-
-'Not if he can get it for nothing, Peter!'
-
-'But he canna—that's just the thing, man,' retorted the
-other. 'It's only when Ronald has had a glass and is in
-the humour that he'll sing anything. Why shouldna he be
-engaged like the others? It would be a stand-by. It
-would take up none o' his time. And it might make
-him a wee thing steadier if he kent he had to sing every
-night.'
-
-'Very well, then, ask Tom Jackson about it,' the big
-skipper said. 'Ye may say it would please the members—I'll
-back ye up wi' that. Confound him, I didna ken the
-deevil had got his leg ower the trace.'
-
-The old man answered with a cautious smile:
-
-'Ye're rough and ready, M'Taggart; but that'll no do.
-Ronald's a camstrairy chiel. There's Hielan blood in his
-veins; and ye never ken when his pride is gaun to bleeze
-oot and be up the lum wi'm in a fluff.'
-
-'Beggars canna be choosers, my good freen——'
-
-'Beggars? They Hielan folk are never beggars; they'll
-rob and plunder ye, and fling ye ower a hedge, and rifle
-your pockets, but deil a bit o' them 'll beg. Na, na; we'll
-have to contrive some roundabout way to see how he'll take
-it. But I'll speak to Jackson; and we'll contrive
-something, I doubtna. Sae finish up your beer, Captain; and
-if ye're gaun doon to see Mrs. Menzies, I'll gang as far wi'
-ye; I havena been there this nicht or twa.'
-
-Now that was an amiable and benevolent, but, as it
-turned out, most unfortunate design. That same night
-Ronald did show up at the Harmony Club; and there was
-a little more than usual of hilarity and good fellowship
-over the return of the skipper from the perils of the
-deep. Laidlaw was there too; and he also had been
-acquainted with the way in which they meant to approach
-Ronald, to see whether he could not be induced to sing
-regularly at these musical meetings for a stipulated payment.
-
-Their first difficulty was to get him to sing at all; and
-for a long time he was good-humouredly obdurate, and they
-let him alone. But later on in the evening one of his own
-songs was sung—'The fisher lads are bound for hame'—and
-was received with immense applause, which naturally
-pleased him; and then there was a good deal of talking
-and laughing and conviviality; in the midst of which the
-skipper called to him—
-
-'Now, Ronald, lad, tune up; I havena heard a song
-frae ye this three weeks and mair; man, if I had a voice
-like yours wouldna I give them—
-
-.. class:: italics
-
- | '"The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,
- | Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry;
- | The ship rides by the Berwick Law,
- | And I maun leave my bonnie mary!"'
-
-And indeed he did, in this loud and general hum, sing
-these lines, in tones resembling the sharpening of a rusty
-saw.
-
-'Very well, then,' Ronald said. 'But I'll sing it where
-I am—once there's quietness. I'm not going up on that
-platform.'
-
-Of course, the chairman was glad enough to make the
-announcement, for Ronald's singing was highly appreciated
-by the members; moreover there was a little experiment to
-be tried. So peace was restored; the accompanist struck
-a few notes; and Ronald, with a little indecision at first,
-but afterwards with a clear-ringing courage, sang that gayest
-of all parting songs. In the hubbub of applause that
-followed none but the conspirators saw what now took
-place. The chairman called a waiter, and spoke a few
-words to him in an undertone; the waiter went over to
-the table where Ronald was sitting and handed him a
-small package; and then Ronald, naturally thinking that
-this was merely a written message or something of the kind,
-opened the folded piece of white paper.
-
-There was a message, it is true,—'with T. Jackson's
-compliments,'—and there was also a sovereign and a
-shilling. For an instant Ronald regarded this thing with
-a kind of bewilderment; and then his eyes blazed; the
-money was dashed on to the ground; and, without a word
-or a look to any one in the place, he had clapped on his hat
-and stalked to the door, his mouth firm shut, his lips pale.
-This glass door was a private door leading to an outer
-passage formerly described; the handle seemed stiff or
-awkward; so by main force he drove it before him, and
-the door swinging back into the lobby, smashed its glass
-panels against the wall. The 'breenge'—for there is no
-other word—caused by this violent departure was tremendous;
-and the three conspirators could only sit and look at
-each other.
-
-'The fat's in the fire now,' said the skipper.
-
-'I wonder if the guinea 'll pay for the broken glass,'
-said Jimmy Laidlaw.
-
-But it was the little old musician, whose scheme this
-had been, who was most concerned.
-
-'We'll have to get hold o' the lad and pacify him,' said
-he. 'The Hielan deevil! But if he doesna come back
-here, he'll get among a worse lot than we are—we'll have
-to get hold o' him, Captain, and bring him to his senses.'
-
-Well, in the end—after a day or two—Ronald was
-pacified; and he did go back to the club, and resumed
-his relations with the friends and acquaintances he had
-formed there. And that was how it came about that
-Meenie's married sister—who happened to know certain
-members of the Rev. Andrew Strang's congregation, and
-who was very curious to discover why it was that Meenie
-betrayed such a singular interest in this mere gamekeeper,
-and was repeatedly referring to him in her
-correspondence—added this postscript to a letter which she was sending
-to Inver-Mudal:
-
-'I don't know whether it may interest you to hear that
-Ronald Strang, Mr. Strang's brother, whom you have several
-times asked about, is *drinking himself to death*, and that in
-the lowest of low company.'
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. class:: center
-
- END OF VOL. II.
-
-.. vspace:: 6
-
-.. pgfooter::
|