MAG ROBERTSON'S FRENZY
"I want to ken what has gone wrong with you?" said Mag Robertson,
speaking to Black Jock, whom she had called into her house one morning
as he returned from the pit for his breakfast.
"There's naething wrang wi' me," he said with cool reserve. "What dae
you think is wrang?"
"Ay, it's a' right, Jock," she said, speaking as one who knew he
understood her question better than he pretended. "I can see as far
through a brick wall as you can see through a whinstone dyke."
"Maybe a bit farther, Mag," he said with a forced laugh, eyeing her
coolly. "But what are you driving at?"
"You'll no' ken, I suppose?" she retorted. "Sanny has told me a' aboot
it this morning afore he gaed to his work. My! I'd hardly hae looked for
this frae you," she went on, her voice suddenly becoming softer and more
soothing as if she meant to appeal to his sense of gratitude if any
remained within him. "Efter what we've been to yin anither, I never
expected you'd dae this. I aye thocht that you'd be loyal as we hae been
tae you. We hae made oursel's the outcasts o' the district for you, an'
noo you wad turn on us like this. No, I never thocht it o' you at a'!"
"What are you ravin' at this morning?" he asked, in a quiet voice, as if
he meant to force her into being more definite. "I don't ken I'm sure
what you are drivin' at."
"Dae you no?" she broke in quickly, loosing hold of herself as she saw
that her method of attack was not going to succeed. "I hae been
suspectin' something for a while. You hinna been in owre my door for
three weeks an' that's no your ordinar. But I have seen you gaun in tae
Tam Granger's nearly every nicht in that time. An' I can put twa an' twa
together. Dae you think we dinna ken the reason that Sanny has lost his
contracts an' the reason why Tam Granger has stepped into them? Oh, ay,"
she cried, her voice rising as she continued. "I can see hoo things are
workin'! I ken a' aboot it. Wee Leebie, I suppose, will be afore some o'
us noo. The stuck-up limmer that she is. She gangs by folk as brazened
as you like, wi' her head in the air, as if she was somebody. You wad
think she never had heard o' Willie Broonclod, the packman, that she
sloped when she left doon the country. Nae wonder she has braw claes to
glaik aboot in; for they were gey easy paid. The dirty glaiket limmer
that she is. I wonder she disna think shame o' hersel'."
"What the hell's a' this to me?" asked Walker abruptly breaking in upon
her tirade.
"I suppose it'll no' mean onything to you," she returned. "But I just
wanted to tell you, that you're no her first, for Willie Broonclod gaed
to her lang afore she cam' here, an' she's left him wi' a guid penny
that he'll never get. But her man's a contractor noo, makin' big money,
an' Jock Walker ca's in to see her whenever he's needfu' an' there's
naething sae low as a packman noo for her. The brazen-faced stuck-up
baggage that she is. Does she think I dinna ken her? Her, with her hair
stuck up in a 'bun' an' her fancy blouses an' buckled shoon, an' a'!"
Mag was now very much enraged and she shouted and swore in her anger.
"Ach, gang to hell," he said with brutal callousness. "You're no' hauf a
woman like Leebie. She's a tippy wee lass, an' has a way wi' her. She
has some spirit, an' is aye snod and nate," and there was a tantalizing
smile about his lips that was plainly meant to irritate Mag.
"I was guid enough a gey lang while, an'--"
"Ay, but you've haen a damn'd guid innins," he interrupted. "A dam'd
guid innins, an' I canna see what the hell you hae to yowl at."
"A guid innins, you muckle black-hearted brute!" she cried. "By heavens,
an' I'll see that you get yours afore I hae done wi' you. Dinna think
though I hae been saft wi' you a' along, that I'll ay be like that. Oh,
no, I can stand a lot; but you'll find oot that Mag Robertson hasna selt
her a' tae you, without driving a hard bargain afore she lets you alone.
You can gang back to your tippy wee baggage! Gang to hell, baith you an'
her, an' joy be wi' you baith! But I'll put a sprag in your wheel afore
you gang far. Mind that! By ---- I will! She'll nae toss her heid as she
gangs past me as if I was dirt. Her, an' her fine dresses that she never
payed for wi' money an' her fal-lals. By heaven! But you hae a fine
taste!" She finished up exasperated beyond all control by his coolness.
"Ay, it wad seem so," he laughed brutally. "When I look at you, I begin
to wonder what the hell I was lookin' at. You're like a damnationed big
lump o' creesh," and he laughed in her face, knowing this would rouse
her more than ever. Then as she choked and spluttered in her anger he
said: "But what the hell odds is't to you, you baggage?" and his eyes
and voice were cold and brutal beyond expression. "Leebie Granger is
young," he went on insultingly, in a collected even voice which he
strove to make jaunty in tone. "She's as fresh an' young. An' you're
auld, an' fat an' as ugly as hell, an' if I dae gang to Leebie you hae
damn all to dae wi' it. As I said, you've had your innin's, an' been gey
well paid for it, an' I dinna gie a damn for you."
"Dae you no'?" she cried now livid with anger and losing all control
over her words and actions, her eyes flashing with maddened rage and the
froth working from her lips. "I'll let you ken or no'. I'll tear the
pented face off your new doll; and I'll sort you too, you dirty black
brute that you are."
"Gang to hell!" he shouted, starting out of the door so suddenly that he
almost ran into the next door neighbor who hearing the noise had crept
noiselessly on tiptoe to the door the better to hear all that was going
on.
"What the hell's wrang wi' you?" he demanded turning in rage upon the
eavesdropper. "Have you naething else to dae than that? Gang in an' get
your dirty midden o' a hoose cleaned an' I'll see that you don't stay
lang in Lowwood to spy on ony mair folk!" and cowering in shame the
poor woman backed into the door and shut it, making up her mind that her
man would be sacked that day, and wondering where they would flit to, so
as to find work and a house.
Walker strode up the row with Mag Robertson shouting behind him and the
neighbors all coming to the doors as they passed, and craning their
necks, while keeping their bodies safe hidden within the doorways of
their homes.
"We're surely gettin' an entertainment the day," observed one fat old
woman to another woman two doors away, as they both looked after Mag as
she followed Walker up the row, shouting her worst names at him, and
vowing what she'd do with Leebie Granger, when she got hands on her.
"Ay," replied the other woman stealing along the wall to the doorway of
the older woman, and slipping inside as if she were afraid of being
detected. "It's a hell o' a business when blackguards cast oot."
"Wheest, Annie, dinna swear," remonstrated the old woman. "I dinna like
to hear folk swearin' at a'. I wonner the Lord disna open the grun' to
swallow the half o' the folk noo-a-days; for I never heard sic swearin'
a' my life."
"Och, there's nae harm meant," returned Annie, taken aback by the old
woman's admonition. "It's jist a habit that folk get into an' they canna
help it. But listen to her," she broke off, alluding to Mag Robertson
again. "She micht think shame o' hersel', the shameless lump that she
is. She'd hae been faur better to hae keepit her mouth shut, Phemie."
"That's true, Annie," replied Phemie. "Listen to her. My, she's no'
canny an' she's fairly givin' him a bellyfu'. But they're a' yae swine's
pick an' no' yin o' them decent. I wadna be in her shoon for a' the
money that ever was made in Lowwood. She micht hae kent hoo it wad end.
Hark at her. My, but it's awfu'."
"Keep in, Annie," Phemie admonished as they both craned their necks to
look up the row as she saw Walker turning to face Mag. "Dinna let him
see you or your man will get the sack. My! but she's layin' it in tae'
him. What a tongue."
"Lord bless us! He's strucken her, Phemie," said Annie, clutching her
neighbor's shoulder as she spoke. "My, he's gaen her an awfu' blow on
the mouth an' knocket her doon. Come inside for as sure as daith it'll
end in a coort case, an' I'm no wanting to be mixed up in it," and they
went inside and shut the door, looking at each other with frightened
eyes. Then Annie, stealing to the window and lifting the curtain a
little at the side, gazed sideways up the row, reporting to Phemie
everything that happened.
"He's kicking her, Phemie. Eh, the muckle beast that he is. My God,
he'll kill her afore he's finished wi' her. He's hitting her on the face
every time she tries to rise an' gaein' her anither kick aye when she
fa's doon again. Oh! my God, will naebody interfere. He'll kill her as
sure as death," and she stepped back with blanched face sickened at the
spectacle she had described.
"Here she comes, Annie," said her neighbor after a few moments. "My!
what a face. Dinna look you at her," cried Phemie in alarm pushing back
Annie who had moved near to the window to get a better view. "In God's
name, woman, dinna you look at her. You shouldna ha' looked at onything
that has taken place. If onything is wrang wi' your bairn when it is
born I'll never forgi'e' mysel' for lettin' you look at this business at
a'. Gang awa' back an' sit down an' try an' forget a' aboot what you hae
seen. Dinna look up till she gangs back intae the hoose," and the old
woman kept Annie sitting back at the bedside in the corner farthest from
the window until Mag staggered to her home, her face streaming with
blood.
Not a soul was in sight as Mag returned; but many a pair of eyes watched
her from behind curtained windows, and expressions of sympathy were
common even though her relations with Walker were common knowledge in
the village, and had been censured by everyone in consequence for her
misdeeds. They all knew why Mag had "opened out" on Walker that morning
and the reason she had been set aside for another who pleased his fancy.
Tam Granger and his wife had recently come into the district from a
neighboring village, where Leebie's name had been coupled with a local
draper's or packman's in some scandal. Black Jock had soon got into
contact with them and finding them willing tools he had deserted Sanny
and Mag Robertson. All the contracts were taken from Sanny and given to
Tam, and it was this that had made Mag watch for Walker coming in for
his breakfast, determined to have it out with him, with the result which
is chronicled above.
The encounter between Mag and Black Jock was the talk of the village.
Mag was mad with rage, and having washed her bruised face, she ramped
out and in all day, washing the floor, clattering among dishes and
scouring pots and pans. She was working off her anger and swearing and
threatening, until most of the other women in the row grew afraid, and
kept as much as possible within doors the rest of the day.
When the men returned from work the whole episode had to be gone through
and described to them by their wives.
When Sanny Robertson came home that afternoon, he found Mag with swollen
lips and half closed eyes and a face bruised all over. He did not have
to wait long for explanations. She railed and swore and raged until one
wondered from where she got all the energy, and all the strength. It was
amazing why she did not collapse altogether.
Sanny sat quietly listening without comment, then washed himself and sat
smoking by the fire for a time. He was a quiet go-as-you-please man, not
given much to talking. But finally he could stand it no longer, and he
took hold of his wife by the shoulder, saying.
"Noo, jist you listen, an' for God's sake shut your mooth. It'll no dae
a bit o' guid ravin' like that. We are in a bigger hole noo than ever we
hae been in a' oor lives, an' mind that. I've made up my mind what I am
gaun tae dae. Sae listen. I'm gaun straucht awa' ower to Rundell's the
morn, at the time when Mr. Rundell gangs hame frae the office for his
breakfast, an' I'll tell him everything aboot the contracts. Then I'm
gaun awa' doon the country tae look for work, an' I'll flit oot o' here
an' tae hell wi't. Noo shut up an' gae me peace and quateness for an
hoor, so that I can think oot things. You get awa' tae bed. Maybe by
richt I should gang doon tae Black Jock an' stap a knife in him--if for
nae ither thing than the way he has treated you the day, I should dae
that. But I'm no gaun to dae it the noo. I'm no' blaming you for what
has happened; for I'm mair to blame than you are. But I'll be even wi'
that black beast, an' put an end to his rotten career, someway or
another. Sae aff you gang to your bed, an' gie me a quate hoor tae
mysel'," and there was such a quiet authoritative ring in his voice that
Mag dared not disobey it, and she went quietly off to bed while he sat
by the fireside smoking and thinking, and feeling that his home that
night must surely be the most unhappy place on God's earth.
About midnight he knocked the ashes from his pipe, and placing it on the
mantelpiece, went to bed and soon fell asleep, but Mag, an insane
decision taking shape in her brain, lay and brooded and tossed till well
on in the morning, when she rose, kindled the fire, "redd up" the house,
prepared the breakfast and awoke her husband to partake of the meal she
had prepared.
Never a word was spoken between them, and at last Sanny, after washing
and dressing, walked out without a word, but fully determined in his
heart to get equal with Walker before the day was over.
He went straight to Rundell House, and ringing the bell asked to see the
mine owner.
He was shown into a room and Mr. Rundell came to him almost before he
had been comfortably seated.
"Well, Sanny," he began genially. "What brings you here this morning?"
"A business that I'd rather no' been comin' on," replied Sanny uneasily
shifting on his chair.
"Oh, nothing serious, I hope, is it?"
"Ay, it's serious enough," returned Sanny. "Mair serious than you think,
Mr. Rundell; an' I dinna ken what you'll think o' me after I hae telt
you."
"Oh, well, in that case," said the mine owner, becoming serious, and
speaking with slow deliberation. "Just let me hear what it is all about,
and we'll see how matters stand after you have told me," and he sat
down in a chair opposite Robertson as he spoke.
"I hae lost my contracts, sir," began Sanny, not knowing how else to
open up the subject. "But I'm gaun to tell you the hale story just in my
ain way, so I want you to sit quate and no' interrupt me; for I hinna
jist the knack of puttin' things maybe as they should be put. But I'll
tell you the hale story an' then leave you to do as you like, an' think
what you like."
"Very well, Sanny. Just go on. I did not know you had lost them. But
just let me hear about the trouble in your own way."
"For gey near twenty year," began Sanny, "I've had maist feck o' the
contracts in your pits back and forrit--me an' Tam Fleming. Walker an'
us were aye gey thick, an' though it maybe was putten doon to you that
oor offer to work ony special job was the cheapest, I may tell you that
I never put in an offer in my life for yin o' them. Walker an'--an'"
here Sanny stammered a little, "Walker an' oor Mag were gey thick, an'
I'm ashamed o' this part o' the story; for I should hae been man enough
to protect her frae him. But the money was the thing that did it, Mr.
Rundell, an' I'm no' gaun to mak' excuses noo aboot it. But every
bargain I had, I had to share the pay, efter the men was payed, penny
aboot, wi' Walker. That was ay the bargain. He gaed us the job at his
ain feegure, an' we shared the profits wi' him.
"Noo, jist keep yoursel' cool a bit," he said, holding up his hand as
Rundell made to speak. "We did gey well," he resumed in his even
monotone, like a man who was repeating something he had learned by
heart. "But gey soon I found that I was expected to spend a good share
o' my pay in drink, while Walker took a', an' never spent a penny. So it
was, that for a' the money we made we've been gey little the better o't,
an' very much the worse o' it. Without exception we shared penny aboot
with Walker on every bargain we got, an' I ken he has a guid bank
balance, while I hae nane.
"Noo, this is a rotten story frae end to end o't," he went on after a
short pause to wipe his face with a handkerchief. "I allowed him to
ruin my wife's character. I kent it was gaun on a' the time; but like
mony mair I hae kent, a manager's favor was mair to me than the honor o'
a wife. I let him tak' a share o' the money I made, an' spent my ain to
keep him up on drink. But noo it's ended a'. A wheen o' weeks syne, a
man ca'd Tam Granger came to the place and his wife being young an'
fresh, an' guid-looking, besides being free, Walker's fancy was ta'en
wi' her. So you ken what it means, when a gaffer carries on like that,
an' the man is saft enough as weel as the woman being willin'. Tam got
my contracts this week, an' I have to gang back into a common place and
howk coals.
"Weel, the wife couldna' stand being slighted like thet, an' Granger's
wife had been tantalizin' her too, you ken hoo women rave when they are
slighted. So she opened oot on Walker yesterday mornin' an' followed him
up the row, the hale place being turned oot to hear her exposure o' him.
She fair gaed mad wi' anger I think, an' lost a' control o' hersel' an'
she followed him shouting so that a' the neighbors could hear her
tauntin' an' jibin' at him, till he could staun it nae langer, an' he
turned an' struck her, knockin' her doon on the green, an' then kickin'
her, till she's a' bruised ower the body. She has an' awfu' lookin' face
too, an' she came in bleeding like a sheep.
"So that's the hale ugly story, Mr. Rundell. As I said I'm gaun to mak'
nae excuses. There's nane tae mak'; an' I'm cheap served for it a'. I
should hae stood by the wife and protected her. But I'll dae it noo.
She's mine, an' if she's no guid it is me that is to blame. I'm leavin',
an' I'm gaun awa' doon the country the morn to look for work; but I
thocht I'd tell you the whole rotten story first, then I'll get Walker,
an' hae a reckonin' wi' him an' be off the morn. I'll pay off that
black-hearted brute this day afore I leave Lowwood an' then my
conscience will be easier."
Mr. Rundell sat stupefied and amazed at the story just told him by
Robertson, and just as both men sat staring at each other and before
another word could be said, a miner burst into the room, almost
exploding with excitement, crying:--
"Oh, Mr. Rundell, you've to come to the pit at once. A woman has flung
herself doon the shaft."
"Guid God! That'll be oor Mag," cried Sanny, starting up and out at the
door, running in the direction of the pit and stumbling every few yards
in his excitement.
When Sanny had left the house that morning to go and interview Mr.
Rundell, Mag, with the insane decision she had made overnight still
holding her mind, dressed herself in her best clothes, and without
hesitation set off to the pit.
On her way down the row she stepped into Leebie Granger's house very
excited though she had been fairly quiet all morning; so quiet in fact
that Phemie Grey and Annie Watson could not help remarking upon it.
"She's been awfu' quate a' mornin', Phemie," said Annie, going into her
neighbor's house. "She has worked away there as if she was gaun to clean
the hale place, scrubbing oot the floor, although she washed yesterday;
an' noo, she has on her Sunday best, wi' her new hat on too, an' she's
awa' into Leebie Granger's. I wonner what'll hae ta'en her noo."
"Guid kens," replied Phemie, "but she's fair off her heid. Dae ye ken
she's just like a daft body. Did you see the look in her e'en?" and so
they discussed poor Mag, who had drawn their attention by the
strangeness of her behavior.
"Oh, dinna be feart, Leebie," began Mag as she saw Leebie's apprehensive
look. "I'm no' gaun to meddle wi' you, although I swore yesterday that I
would. You've only done what I did before you. You are young, an' mair
pleasin' than I am noo, an', as he said, I hae had a good innins. But,
Leebie, you'll hae to look for another fancy man. He'll no' be lang
yours. I'll see to that. Him an' me will gang oot thegither, if I can
manage it. We've baith been rotten, an' it's richt that we should gang
baith at once, an' rid the place o' a dam'd bad sore. Guid day, Leebie.
It's a dam'd puir life to leave, an' while it maybe is a woman's lot in
life to sell hersel' for ease and comfort, it's a' bad for her when she
does it in a way that the world says is a wrang way; for she soon finds
that her life isna worth a tinker's curse. She sells hersel' an' it's no
worth while complainin' if the bargain turns oot a rotten yin.
"If every woman had plenty of honest work, there wad be nae fancy women,
for they wadna ned do it. Guid day, Leebie. Maybe you'll think I'm
strange a wee an' maybe so I am. You micht think I'm daft; an' maybe so
I am. But after a while when you get time to think, you'll maybe feel
that you hae heard mair soond sense oot o' Mag Robertson when she was
mad than ever she spoke when she was supposed to be wise. Guid day,
Leebie. Think ower a' I have said. I'm no gaun to hurt you; but I'm gaun
to tak' Black Jock oot o' your clutches as shair as daith. You've had
your innins too; but it has been a dam'd short yin. I've had mine, an'
the game is feenished noo. It's time the hale thing was totaled up so
that we can see wha is the winner. I've been maybe playin' a losin'
game, Leebie, but noo we'll ken afore lang. Guid day, Leebie. I'm off,"
and she was out of the door leaving Leebie speechless with fear and
amazement.
Mag flew down the brae to the pit almost running, while Leebie and other
neighbors looked after her with a strange dread at their hearts.
When Mag arrived at the pit she asked a boy if Walker was up the pit yet
for his breakfast.
"I dinna' think so," replied the boy. "He's kind o' late this mornin';
but there's the bell chappit three," he said as the signal was made from
the bottom that men were about to come up. "That'll likely be him coming
up."
The boy had no sooner spoken, than with a mad rush Mag darted forward,
and opening the gates at the "low scaffold," where no one was near,
being situated below the pit-head proper, with a loud scream she hurled
herself down the shaft.
"God Almichty!" roared the engineman who saw all from the engine house,
as he rushed out of the door, calling to the pit-head workers. "Mag
Robertson has flung hersel' doon the shank!" and immediately all was
consternation.
The engine keeper had just been in the act of signaling down to Walker,
who was ready to ascend when he saw the flying figure dart forward and
fling herself into the yawning abyss.
Walker, standing at the foot of the shaft waiting for the answering
signal from above, heard the noise and the rush of Mag's body as it
bumped from side to side in its mad descent, and starting back, he was
just in time to get clear as the mangled mass of rags and blood and
pulpy flesh fell with a loud splashy thud at the bottom, the blood
spattering and "jauping" him and the bottomer, and blinding their eyes
as it flew all over them.
"In the name o' Heavens what's that?" yelled Walker, screaming in terror
and jumping aside from the bloody upturned face, with the wide, staring
eyes, which he seemed to recognize, as the other parts of the body lay
about, still quivering and twitching, and a horrible sickness came over
him and terror flooded his mind.
"Bell, three, quick!" cried Walker, frantic with desperation in his
voice. "Bell three, dammit. An' let us up out o' here. Hurry up, hell to
you," and he drew the bell himself, and without waiting on the signal
back from above, jumped into the cage, averting his face from those
horrible eyes, which lay staring at him out of the darkness.
"Chap it awa', man!" he yelled at the bottomer, his voice rising to a
scream. "Chap it, an' let us up to hell oot o' this," and the bottomer,
no less frightened than he, tore at the bell, and jumping in himself
just as the cage began slowly to ascend, clung to the bar, shivering
with terror.