Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source:
http://www.archive.org/details/richmansrelative03clel
(University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign)
2. Pages 86-87 are missing. They do not appear to be critical to
the story.
3. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
A RICH MAN'S RELATIVES
PRESS NOTICES
OF
"INCHBRACKEN,"
A NOVEL BY R. CLELAND
* * *
_Westminster Review, October_, 1883.
"Inchbracken" is a clever sketch of Scottish life and manners at the
time of the "Disruption," or great secession from the Established
Church of Scotland, which resulted in the formation of the Free
Church. The scene of the story is a remote country parish in the north
of Scotland, within a few miles of the highland line. The main
interest centres in the young Free Church minister and his sister and
their relations, on the one hand, with the enthusiastic supporters of
the Disruption movement, mostly of the peasant or small tradesmen
class, with a sprinkling of the smaller landowners; and, on the other
hand, with the zealous supporters of the Established Church,
represented by the Drysdales of Inchbracken, the great family of the
neighbourhood. The story is well and simply told, with many a quiet
touch of humour, founded on no inconsiderable knowledge of human
nature.
_Academy, 27th October_, 1883.
There is a great deal of solid writing in "Inchbracken," and they who
read it will hardly do so in vain. It is a story of the Disruption;
and it sets forth, with much pains and not a little spirit, the
humours and scandals of one of the communities affected by the event.
The main incident of the story has nothing to do with the Disruption,
it is true; but its personages are those of the time, and the uses to
which they are put are such as the Disruption made possible. Roderick
Brown, the enthusiastic young Free Church minister, finds on the
sea-shore after wreck and storm, a poor little human waif which the
sea has spared. He takes the baby home, and does his best for it. One
of his parishioners has lost her character, however; and as Roderick,
at the instigation of his beadle, the real author of her ruin, is good
enough to give her money and help, it soon becomes evident to
Inchbracken that he is the villain, and that the baby of the wreck is
the fruit of an illicit amour. How it ends I shall not say. I shall do
no more than note that the story of the minister's trials and the
portraitures--of elders and gossips, hags and maids and village
notables--with which it is enriched are (especially if you are not
afraid of the broadest Scotch, written with the most uncompromising
regard for the national honour) amusing and natural in no mean degree.
W. E. HENLEY.
_Athenæum, 17th November_, 1883.
"Inchbracken" will be found amusing by those who are familiar with
Scotch country life. The period chosen, the "Disruption time," is an
epoch in the religious and social life of Scotland, marking a revival,
in an extremely modified and not altogether genuine form, of the
polemic Puritanism of the early Presbyterians, and so furnishing a
subject which lends itself better to literary treatment than most
sides of Scottish life in this prosaic century. The author has a good
descriptive gift, and makes the most of the picturesque side of the
early Free Church meetings at which declaimers against Erastian
patronage posed in the attitude of the Covenanters of old. The story
opens on a stormy night when Roderick Brown, the young Free Church
minister of Kilrundle, is summoned on a ten-mile expedition to attend
a dying woman, an expedition which involves him in all the troubles
which form the subject of the book. The patient has nothing on her
mind of an urgent character. "No, mem! na!" says the messenger.
"My granny's a godly auld wife, tho' maybe she's gye fraxious whiles,
an' money's the sair paikin' she's gi'en me; gin there was ocht to
confess she kens the road to the Throne better nor maist. But ye see
there's a maggit gotten intil her heid an' she says she bent to
testifee afore she gangs hence."
The example of Jenny Geddes has been too much for the poor old
woman:--
"Ay, an' I'm thinkin' it's that auld carline, Jenny Geddes, 'at's
raised a' the fash! My granny gaed to hear Mester Dowlas whan he
preached among the whins down by the shore, an' oh, but he was bonny!
An' a graand screed o' doctrine he gae us. For twa hale hours he
preached an expundet an' never drew breath for a' the wind was
skirlin', an' the renn whiles skelpin' like wild. An' I'm thinkin' my
granny's gotten her death o' ta'. But oh! an' he was grand on Jenny
Geddes! an' hoo she up wi' the creepie am' heved it a the Erastian's
heid. An' my granny was just fairly ta'en wi't a', an' she vooed she
beut to be a mither in Israel tae, an' whan she gaed hame she out wi'
the auld hugger 'at she keeps the bawbees in, aneath the hearthstane,
for to buy a creepie o' her ain,--she thocht a new ane wad be best for
the Lord's wark,--an' she coupet the chair whaur hung her grave
claes,' at she airs fonent the fire ilika Saturday at e'en, 'an out
there cam a lowe, an' scorched a hole i' the windin' sheet, an' noo,
puir body, we'll hae to hap her in her muckle tartan plaid. An'
aiblins she'll be a' the warmer e'y moulds for that. But, however, she
says the sheet was weel waur'd, for the guid cause. An' syne she took
til her bed, wi' a sair host, an' sma' winder, for there was a weet
daub whaur she had been sittin' amang the whins. An' noo the host's
settled on her that sair, she whiles canna draw her breath. Sae she
says she maun let the creepie birlin' slide, but she beut to testifee
afore some godly minister or she gangs hence. An' I'm fear'd, sir, ye
maun hurry, for she's real far through."
The excuse for this long extract must be its excellence as a specimen
of a long-winded statement, just such as a Scotch fisher boy would
make when once the ice was broken. Not less idiomatic is the interview
between Mrs. Boague, the shepherd's wife, and Mrs. Sangster "of
Auchlippie," the great lady of the congregation, when the latter has
had her painful experience of mountain climbing, till rescued by the
"lug and the horn" at the hands of her spiritual pastor. Other good
scenes are the meeting of the two old wives in mutches an the brae
side, and the final discomfiture of the hypocritical scamp Joseph
Smiley by his mother-in-law, Tibbie Tirpie, who rights her daughter's
wrongs and the minister's reputation by a capital _coup de main_. Of
more serious interest, though full of humour, are the trials the
excellent Roderick endures at the hands of his kirk session. Ebenezer
Prittie and Peter Malloch are types of many an elder minister and
ministers' wives have had to groan under, and the race is not extinct.
But all who are interested in such specimens of human nature should
refer to Mr. Cleland, who knows his countrymen as well as he can
describe his country.
* * * * *
Select Novels by Popular Authors.
_Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. each_.
By Florence Marryat.
MY SISTER THE ACTRESS.
A BROKEN BLOSSOM.
PHYLLIDA.
THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL.
FACING THE FOOTLIGHTS.
By Annie Thomas.
ALLERTON TOWERS.
FRIENDS AND LOVERS.
EYRE OF BLENDON.
By Mrs. Eiloart.
THE DEAN'S WIFE.
SOME OF OUR GIRLS.
By Lady Constance Howard.
SWEETHEART AND WIFE.
MOLLIE DARLING.
By the Author of "Recommended to Mercy."
BARBARA'S WARNING.
By Mrs. Alexander Fraser.
A PROFESSIONAL BEAUTY.
By Harriett Jay.
TWO MEN AND A MAID.
A
RICH MAN'S RELATIVES.
BY
R. CLELAND,
AUTHOR OF "INCHBRACKEN."
_IN THREE VOLUMES_.
VOL. III.
LONDON:
F. V. WHITE AND CO.,
31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C.
1885.
PRINTED BY
KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS;
AND MIDDLE MILL KINGSTON-ON-THAMES.
CONTENTS
* * *
CHAP.
I.--Banks and Brays.
II.--A Confidante.
III.--Friends in Council.
IV.--Moonlight and Shadow.
V.--Murder.
VI.--Nemesis.
VII.--Rescue.
VIII.--It was all Webb's Fault.
IX.--Joe Proposes.
X.--At Gorham.
XI.--Planting Hyacinths.
XII.--Randolph's Buckling.
XIII. At Caughnawaga.
XIV.--Thérèse's Revenge.
XV.--The Selbys.
XVI.--Betsey as Good Fairy.
XVII.--At Last.
XVIII.--The Broker Broke.
A RICH MAN'S RELATIVES.
CHAPTER I.
BANKS AND BRAYS.
Ralph's satisfaction at carrying through his man[oe]uvre with the
mining company's directors amounted almost to elation. The unexpected
appearance of opposition in that docile body had startled him at
first, but he had been able to ride it down in so summary and
highhanded a fashion that he doubted not but the spirit was quenched
for ever, and congratulated himself on its having appeared at a moment
when it could so easily and utterly be crushed and abolished. A
meeting of the bank directors next door was now due. Glancing at his
watch, he found that he was already fifteen minutes late, caught up
his portfolio of bank papers in haste, and passed by way of the
dressing-room into the bank, confident as an Alexander mounting his
war-horse, and riding forth to new victories.
A breath of chill air blew in his face as he entered the board-room
and met reserved and distant glances on every side. They had not
waited for his coming, and were already deep in business. His own
arm-chair, he observed--the arm-chair of pre-eminence at the end of
the table, heretofore sacred to his own use, was occupied by M.
Petitôt, the pork packer, vice-president of the bank, who, however,
had the grace to rise apologetically, and make way, observing that
they had feared Mr. Herkimer did not intend to be present, when Mr.
Jowler, the bark dealer, sprang to his feet, and moved that the
vice-president retain the chair for the present, M. Petipomme
seconding the motion.
Ralph bit his lip, and something like a scowl passed momentarily
across his face at the overt act of mutiny, which not so long before
he would have quelled with a crack of the whip, and brought the unruly
curs to heel with drooping neck and tail. But the moment was not
opportune for the exercise of authority; his brow grew clear again, if
somewhat pale, his features calm, if a trifle set, and expressionless,
and he sat down in a vacant chair at the lower end of the table.
The business, however, appeared to have come to a stop; no one spoke,
and each looked at his neighbour, while the vice-president moved
restlessly in his chair, and twiddled his watch chain with uneasy
fingers. He coughed, cleared his voice, lifted his eye-glass to his
eyes, and let it drop, but still he said nothing, while Ralph looked
inquiringly round the board. Several ledgers had been brought in from
the bank and lay upon the table, every one open at the page headed,
"Ralph Herkimer & Son;" and while he waited, a clerk entered with yet
another, containing some further variety of information which he laid
before the chairman, opening it and officiously pointing out the
desired record, then looking up as he turned to withdraw, his eyes
lighted on the president himself, when a guilty flush and a
deprecatory glance betrayed that the information he had been
presenting bore upon the same point as the rest.
"You appear, gentleman, to be looking into the working of my account,"
said Ralph, after a further period of silence; "Pray go on, don't mind
me! You will find it is a profitable account, perhaps the _most_
profitable in your books. Satisfy yourselves by all means. It is
your right. But permit me to say that the time and the manner are not
well chosen. There is something not altogether friendly, nor quite
above-board, in this way of gratifying your curiosity. Is it
honourable, gentleman, or manly, to watch till you get a man's back
turned before proceeding to overhaul his account?"
"Strong language, Mr. Herkimer," said several voices at once.
"Most unwarrantable," muttered Jowler.
"It is true, gentlemen, and not a bit stronger than the facts
warrant."
"Indeed, Mr. President," said Petitôt blandly--he was noted for a
courteous benignity which never failed, so long at least as there
remained a chance of the other side's ability to make him regret being
otherwise. After that--well, after those others became too weak for it
to matter, the world took little heed how he behaved, and he acted
accordingly, as pleased him best--brutally, the sufferers called it.
"Indeed, Mr. President, you take up the matter too seriously. The
accident of your absence when the question arose was a mere
coincidence. We are all, I assure you, well aware of the value of your
account."
"Should think so," muttered Jowler, pleased to find how quickly they
were drifting to the pith of the grievance. "It amounts to half or
two-thirds of the bank's capital already, and it promises to swallow
up the whole before long."
"Which would not suit you, Jowler," retorted Ralph, sneering
assiduously to conceal his wrath, and perhaps his dismay. "But it
might be well for the country and for the bank itself, that it should
not have any funds to dissipate in the bark business. I say
'dissipate' designedly, gentlemen. I know of four cargoes of cutch and
gambler now on the way for this port, with more to follow. Bark prices
must collapse, and the less we have to do with the article at present,
the better for us. It is well for the country, I consider, that
discouragement should arise to stop the reckless destruction of our
hemlock forests. If Jowler and his like are allowed their way, we
shall not have a hemlock left standing in ten years' time."
"And how much better off is the bank with its tons of plumbago, which
cannot be brought to market?" retorted Jowler angrily. "The plumbago
paper has been renewed three times already, and the amount increased
without the sanction of the board."
"Are we not drifting into a wrangle, gentlemen, and wasting time to no
good purpose?" said Mr. Seebright, of the _Journal_. "The bank
settlements are going against us week after week, and the specie
reserve is running down. What are we to do? That is the question."
"Circulation going down every day," added Petipomme, with an air of
wisdom.
"And pray, gentlemen, did you ever know it otherwise at this season?"
cried Ralph, eager to score any point an injudicious speaker might put
in his way. "Look into the government returns for last year, look into
them for any year, and you will find the circulation of the country
reaches its lowest points in August and February. It has several weeks
to go on diminishing yet, but it is larger than it was this time last
year. Wait till September, and you will see it go up and increase
steadily till it reaches its highest point in November. The thing is
as regular as the seasons, and no resolution this board can pass will
alter it."
"All very true, President," said Seebright; "but this drain of the
reserve must be stopped somehow. How do you propose to do it? We must
contract--realize. Where shall we begin to prune?"
Ralph was silent. He wanted to borrow more, and with the particulars
of the account actually on the table, it seemed best not to excite
ill-will by proposing to impose a reduction on any one else. Jowler
had taken up a share list to cover his chagrin under Ralph's attack;
he now laid it down with a loud "Hillo! St. Euphrase mining shares
down four per cent since yesterday! What's up, President? Things going
badly?"
"I walked down street with old Mr. Premium this morning," said
Petipomme--"parted from him not half-an-hour ago. He says there's
something up, he could not make out what, but some villager had been
to him, eager to sell out at once, and at any price. The man was very
close and would say nothing, but he was so eager that Premium grew
panicky and was going to unload."
"The bank has made you an advance, President, on some of that stock,"
cried Jowler. "Four per cent off the security at one drop! I call on
you to put up a fresh margin."
"I scarcely think you will consider that necessary, gentlemen, when I
tell you that, at the meeting held this morning, the directors have
agreed to declare a dividend of five per cent. It will be in all the
papers to-morrow. You will find the announcement on your table, Mr.
Seebright, when you get back to your office, and an advertisement for
to-morrow's issue."
"Five per cent?" said Petitôt, congratulating himself on not having
joined in the late attempted onslaught. "Is not that unexpected? I
have heard no word of it."
"It was only decided this morning, and we agreed to declare it at
once, so that _bonâ fide_ shareholders should reap the advantage
rather than mere speculators."
"And it is not known yet?" asked Petitôt eagerly. "But it _will_ be,
in an hour's time," he added, answering himself. "Gentlemen! I think
there is no other business before the board. I declare the meeting
adjourned to this day next week;" and, seizing his hat, Mr. Petitôt
was gone, and half-way across the street to his broker's before any of
his brethren could have interposed a word, which, however, none of
them seemed wishful to do. Such a rush for hats and general stampede
had never been seen before; the assistant cashier, who wrote the
minutes, found the room deserted, when he laid down his pen, by all
but the president, and the roll of bills, which should have been
shared among the several gentlemen, still before him--an unprecedented
circumstance.
"What is to be done with this, Mr. Herkimer?"
"You and I had better share it between us, Briggs," he chuckled. "What
would they say if we did? They have all skipped off to buy St.
Euphrase mining shares, and they will make so much money they will
never miss this--that is, not before the shares are bought.
Afterwards, when they have completed their operation, they will
recollect, and come asking for it. Put it in your desk for the
present, it will not be long till they relieve you of the charge."