A DEFORCEMENT.
But wonders will never cease. It was a couple of days after these
occurrences, and Mary Stanley and Kate Glendinning were just about to
sit down to lunch, when the Highland maid Barbara came into the room,
with a curious expression on her face. And it was in almost
awe-stricken tones that she spoke:
"It's Mr. Ross, mem," said she--her pretty, soft, shy eyes now full of a
vague astonishment.
"Mr. Ross?--Mr. Ross of Heimra? Well, what about him?" Mary demanded,
little guessing at the true state of affairs.
"He's in the hall, mem," said the startled Barbara. "He says would Miss
Stanley speak with him for a moment, and he would not keep you more than
a moment, mem."
The blood rushed to Mary's forehead, and for a second she was
embarrassed and speechless; then, with a certain impatience of her own
confusion, she said--
"Well, ask Mr. Ross to go into the drawing-room, Barbara--and tell him I
will be there directly."
She turned quickly to her friend. "Kaethchen, would you mind going and
speaking to him?--I shall be down in a minute."
Possibly Kaethchen did not quite like this commission; but then she was
in the habit of reflecting that as a salaried companion she had duties
to perform; and so with much good nature she went away into the
drawing-room, to receive this unexpected visitor. It was some minutes
before Mary reappeared. The male eye could not have detected any
difference between the Mary Stanley of the dining-room and the Mary
Stanley of the drawing-room; but Kaethchen instantly perceived the
minute alteration. Mary had whipped off to her room to exchange the
stiff linen collar that she wore for a piece of soft frilling--a more
feminine adornment. Moreover, she came into the room, not radiant in
her beauty and self-possessed as was her wont, but with a kind of timid,
modest, almost shamefaced gratitude for this act of neighbourliness, and
in her clear eyes a manifest pleasure shone. Kaethchen, now relieved of
her duties, and become a mere onlooker, said to herself: "I don't know
what Mamie means; but that young man had better take care."
He, on his side, certainly showed no lack of self-possession--though he
still remained standing, his yachting cap in his hand.
"I hope I am not inconveniencing you," said he to Miss Stanley. "The
fact is, we got becalmed just outside the bay----"
"But won't you be seated?" said she, and she herself took a chair.
Kaethchen retired to one of the windows--not to look out, however.
"First of all, I wish to thank you for your kindness to Mrs. Armour,"
said he. "She is very grateful to you; for of course it was pleasant to
the old dame to have a friendly hand held out to her, when she was
rather frightened she might be coming back among strangers."
"Oh, that is nothing," said Mary; and then she was emboldened to add,
"The wonderful thing was to find anyone connected with this place who
would accept of any civility. But then she has been away a long time."
If this was a taunt, unintentional or otherwise, he took no heed of it.
"What I really wished to see you about, however, was this," he went on.
"It was only last night that I heard of the sheriff's judgment in the
case of James Macdonald--James Macdonald, the crofter, at Cruagan----"
"I know him," said Mary. "But what case? I never heard of it!"
"An action brought by Mr. Purdie on your behalf," he answered briefly.
"Why was I not told of this?" she said.
"The proceedings began some little time ago," he said. "And, indeed,
Miss Stanley, I must apologise to you for seeming to interfere. I do not
wish to interfere in any way whatever; it would be most impertinent on
my part; and besides--besides, I have no desire to interfere. But in
this particular case I think you should know what is going on, for
Macdonald is a determined man; and if the sheriff's officer and his
concurrents come out this afternoon by the mail-car, as they are likely
to do, I'm afraid there will be trouble. The sheriff has granted a
decree of removal; but I don't think Macdonald will go; while it is just
possible the other crofters may back him up. I thought if you would go
along and ask the sheriff's officer to stay proceedings until Macdonald
could be talked to by his own friends----"
"Well, of course I will!" said she, instantly. "But I want to know what
this action is all about! It seems to me that I ought to be consulted
before Mr. Purdie takes to evicting any of the tenants."
There was a curious, covert gleam of satisfaction in the young man's
lustrous black eyes; but he went on to say very quietly--
"I am afraid Macdonald has put himself entirely in the wrong. For one
thing, he is over two years in arrear with his rent; and that of itself,
according to the Crofters Holding Act, forfeits his tenancy. And then,
again, he refuses to pay because of reasons that won't hold water. He
claims compensation for improvements----"
"Why not?" said she--promptly taking the side of the tenant, and talking
to young Ross as if he were advocating the landlord's interest.
"Well," said Young Donald, "he has cut a few drains and covered them in;
but the sheriff found that this was counterbalanced by his neglect of
other parts of the croft, and that there was no just claim. His other
reason for refusal was that he wanted an allowance made to him for Mr.
Watson's sheep being permitted to graze over the Cruagan crofts after
the crops were reaped."
"And why not?" said Mary again. "Why should Mr. Watson's sheep graze
over the crofts? That seems to me a great injustice--unless
compensation is given."
"Well, it is a practice of long standing," said the young man (and
Kaethchen, who cared very little about rents and holdings and drains,
nevertheless thought he had so agreeable a voice that it was quite a
pleasure to listen to him). "The crofters took the crofts knowing of
this condition, and the rents were fixed accordingly. However, this is
the present state of affairs, that the sheriff-substitute has decided
against Macdonald--as he was bound to do, I admit. He has found him
liable for arrears of rent, with interest and costs; and he has granted
a warrant to turn him out. Now Macdonald is a stiff-necked man, a
difficult man to deal with; and he doesn't know much English; it will be
no use for the sheriff-officer to argue, and say he is only doing his
duty----"
"I disapprove of the whole proceedings," said Mary, with decision. "Mr.
Purdie had no right to go to such extremes without consulting me--and I
will take care that it does not happen again. By the mail-car, did you
say? Well, that won't be coming by Cruagan before half-past two; and I
can be there by then. The sheriff's officer and his--his what did you
call them?"
"His concurrents--assistants."
"They must wait for further instructions; and I will inquire into the
matter myself."
He rose.
"I hope you will forgive me, Miss Stanley," said he, as he had said
before, "for seeming to interfere. I have no wish to do anything of the
kind. But I thought you ought to know in case there might be any
trouble--which you could prevent."
"Mr. Ross," said she, "I am very much obliged to you. I--I don't get
very much help--and--and I want to do what little I can for the people."
"Good morning!" said he; and he bowed to Kate Glendinning: he was going
away without so much as shaking hands with either of them, so distant
and respectful was his manner. But Mary, in a confused kind of fashion,
did not seem to think this was right. She accompanied him to the door;
and that she left open; then she went out with him into the hall.
"I cannot believe that James Macdonald should have any serious grudge
against me," she said, "for I told Mr. Purdie to tell him that the tax
for the dyke was abolished, and also that fifteen years of it was to be
given back. And, besides that, I said to Macdonald myself that thirty
shillings an acre was too much for that land; and I propose to have it
reduced to a pound an acre when I have all the rents of the estate
looked into."
"Do you think Purdie did tell him?" young Donald Ross asked coldly.
"If he has not!" said Mary ... "But I am almost sure he did--I spoke to
Macdonald myself almost immediately afterwards. And--and I wished to
tell you, Mr. Ross," she continued (as if she were rather pleading for
favour, or at least expecting approval), "that I have been down to the
stranger fishermen at Ru-Minard, and I think it is all settled, and that
they are going away peaceably. I am paying them for the lobster-traps
that were burned--and perhaps a little more; and they understand that
the Vagrant Act can be brought to bear on any others who may think of
coming."
"Oh, they are going away?" said he.
"Yes."
"Mr. Purdie will be sorry for that."
"Why?"
"He could have had them removed, if he had wanted; but so long as they
were an annoyance and vexation to the people here, he allowed them to
remain--naturally."
These accents of contemptuous scorn: she was sorry to hear them somehow;
and yet perhaps they were justified--she did not know.
"Good-bye," said she, at the hall door, and she held out her hand. "I
am so much obliged to you."
And then of course he did shake hands with her in bidding her
farewell--and raised his cap--and was gone.
Mary returned to the dining-room.
"Well, Mamie," said Kaethchen, with a demure smile, "that is about the
most extraordinary interview I ever heard of. A most handsome young
gentleman calls upon a young lady--his first visit--and there is nothing
talked of on either side but sheriff officers and summonses, rent,
compensation, drains, crofts, grazing, and Acts of Parliament. Of
course he was quite as bad as you; but all the same, you might at least
have asked the poor man to stay to lunch."
"Oh, Kaethchen!" Mary exclaimed, starting to her feet, her face on fire.
"Shall I send Barbara after him? I never thought of it! How frightfully
rude of me--and he has come all the way over from Heimra to tell me
about this eviction. What shall I do? Shall I send after him?"
"I don't think you can," said Kaethchen; "it would make the little
oversight all the more marked. You'd better ask him the next time you
see him--if you have forgotten certain warnings."
"What warnings?"
"Why, about his general character and his occupations," said Kate
Glendinning, regarding her friend.
Mary was silent for a moment or two; then she said--
"We need not believe the worst of any one; and when you think of that
old woman coming all the way from Canada to see him, that of itself is a
testimonial to character that not many could bring forward--"
"But you must remember," said Kaethchen, "the young master was a little
boy of ten when Mrs. Armour left; and little boys of ten haven't had
time to develop into dangerous criminals."
"Dangerous criminal?" said Mary, rather sharply; "that is hardly
the--the proper phrase to use--with regard to--to a stranger. However,
it is not of much consequence. Kaethchen, are you going to drive with
me to Cruagan to get that sheriff's officer and his men sent back?"
"Yes, certainly," said Kaethchen, in her usual business-like fashion,
"as soon as we have had lunch. And remember, Mamie, it wasn't _I_ who
forgot to ask him to stay."
Luncheon did not detain them long, and immediately thereafter they got
into the waggonette that was waiting for them, and drove off. But it
was not of the eviction and the possibility of another riot that Mary
was mostly thinking; something very different was weighing, and weighing
heavily, on her mind. They drove through the village in silence; they
crossed the bridge; and they had begun the ascent of the steep hill
before she spoke.
"The more I consider it," she said, "the more ashamed I am."
"Consider what?" said Kaethchen.
"Why, neglecting to ask him to stay to lunch," she made answer--for this
was what she had been brooding over.
"Why should you worry about such a trifle!" Kaethchen protested.
"It isn't a trifle--in a Highlander's estimation, as you know well
enough. They pride themselves on their hospitality; and they judge
others by their own standards; so that I cannot but keep wondering what
he must be thinking of me at this moment. Remember, Kaethchen, when we
went over to Heimra, even the old housekeeper entertained us, and did
her best for us, in that out-of-the-world place; and here he comes to
Lochgarra House--his first visit--he comes to do me a kindness--he comes
to prevent mischief--and comes into the house that once was his own--and
I don't offer him even a biscuit and a glass of sherry----"
"Really, Mary, you needn't worry about such a mere trifle!" Kaethchen
protested again.
"But I do worry!" she said. "I can imagine what he thought of me as he
went away. For you must not forget this, Kaethchen: it was a very
awkward position he put himself into in order to do me a good turn.
Think of his coming to the house, that ought to be his own--asking the
servants if he might be admitted--sending up his name as a
stranger--then he remains standing in the drawing-room--and he is for
going away without shaking hands--as if he were hardly to be considered
one's fellow-creature." She was silent for a second or two; then she
said, with a sudden touch of asperity: "At the same time there is this
to be remembered, that the pride that apes humility is the very worst
kind of pride. Often it simply means that the person is inordinately
vain."
"Poor young man!" said Kaethchen, with a sigh. "He is always in the
wrong. But I'm sure I did not object to his manner when he showed us
the way out of the Meall-na-Fearn bog."
About a couple of hundred yards on the Lochgarra side of Cruagan they
met the mail-car; and when, a minute or two thereafter, they came in
sight of the scattered crofts, it was obvious from the prevailing
commotion that the sheriff's officer and his assistants had arrived.
Indeed, when Mary and Kaethchen descended from the waggonette and walked
up to James Macdonald's cottage, the business of getting out the few
poor sticks of furniture had already begun--the only onlooker being an
old white-haired man, Macdonald's father, who was standing there dazed
and bewildered, as if he did not understand what was going forward. Just
as Mary got up, one of the concurrents brought out a spinning-wheel and
put it on the ground.
"Here--what are you doing?" she said, angrily, to the man who appeared
to be the chief officer. "Leave that spinning-wheel alone: that is the
very thing I want to see in every cottage!"
"I've got the sheriff's warrant, ma'am," said the man, civilly enough.
"And we must get everything out and take possession."
"Oh, no, you mustn't!" she said. "This man Macdonald claims
compensation--the case must be inquired into----"
"I have nothing to do wi' that, ma'am," said the officer, who seemed a
respectable, quiet-spoken, quiet-mannered kind of a person. "I'm bound
to carry out the warrant--that's all I've to heed."
"But surely I can say whether I want the man turned out or not?" she
protested. "He is my tenant. It is to me he owes the money. Surely, if
I am satisfied, you can leave the man alone. But where is he? Where is
Macdonald?"
"As for that, ma'am," said the officer, "he is away down the road, and
he says he is going to fetch a gun. Very well. If he presents a gun at
either me or my concurrents I will declare myself deforced, and he will
have to answer for it before the sheriff."
"A gun?" said Mary, rather faintly. "Do you mean to drive the poor man
to desperation?"
But there was a more immediate danger to be considered. As the two
girls had driven up they had heard a good deal of shrill calling from
croft to croft and from house to house; and now there had assembled a
crowd of women--a crowd hostile and menacing--that came swarming up,
uttering all sorts of angry and reproachful cries. Each time that the
sheriff's officer's assistants appeared at the door of the cottage there
was another outburst of hooting and groaning; while here and there a
bare-armed virago had furnished herself with an apron-full of
rubbish--potato-peelings, cabbage-stalks, stale fish, and the like--and
these unsavoury missiles began to hurtle through the air, though for the
most part they were badly aimed. The sheriff's officer affected to pay
no heed. He calmly watched the proceedings of his men; the rubbish flew
past him unregarded; and the women had not yet taken to stones.
But Kaethchen beheld this advancing crowd with undisguised alarm.
"Mary," she said, hurriedly, "don't you think we should go back to the
waggonette? Those people think it is you who are setting the sheriff's
officers on--they are hooting at us as well----"
There could be no doubt of the fact; and the infuriated women were
drawing nearer and nearer; while, if their taunts and epithets were to
her unintelligible, their wrathful glances and threatening gestures were
unmistakeable. Mary Stanley found herself helpless. She could not
explain to them. She had not the self-possession with which to address
this exasperated mob, even if she knew the language in which alone it
was possible to appeal to them. Nor dared she retreat, for would not
that be simply inviting a general attack? So she was standing,
irresolute and bewildered, when there was a new diversion of interest:
the man Macdonald made his appearance. She looked at him; she hardly
recognised him--so ashen-grey had his cheeks become with excitement and
wrath. One trembling hand held a gun; the other he clenched and shook in
the face of the officer as he went up to him.
"I--not owing any money!" said the Russian-looking crofter, and his
features were working with passion, and his eyes were filled with a
baleful light under his shaggy eyebrows. "No--no--God's curse to me if I
pay money when I not owing any money! Go away, now--go away back to
Dingwall--or it is murder there will be----"
Mary was very pale; but she went forward to him all the same.
"Put away that gun," she said, and she spoke with firmness, though her
lips had lost their natural colour. "Put away that gun! These men are
doing their duty--you have brought it on yourself."
He turned upon her savagely.
"You--it's not you--my laird--Ross of Heimra, he my laird--you come
here, ay, to steal the land--and--and put me from my croft--ay--will you
be putting me from my croft?"
In his fury he could find no more English; but he advanced towards her,
his clenched fist raised; and here it was that Kaethchen (though her
heart was beating wildly) thrust herself forward between them.
"How dare you!" she said, indignantly. "Stand back! How dare you!"
For an instant the man's eyes glared at her--as if in his indescribable
rage he knew neither what to do or say; but just at this moment his
attention was drawn else-whither; a volley of groans and yells from the
crowd had greeted the reappearance of the assistants. At sight of these
enemies bringing out his poor bits of things, Macdonald's wrath was
turned in a new direction; he made a dash for the cottage--managed to
get inside--and the next second the two men were flung headlong out,
while the door was instantly slammed to behind them. A great shout of
triumph and laughter arose from the crowd, while the discomfited
officers picked themselves up and gazed blankly at the barred way.
"I call you to witness," said their chief to Miss Stanley--and he spoke
in the calmest manner, as if this were quite an every-day
occurrence--"that I have been deforced in the execution of my duty.
This man will have to answer for it at Dingwall."
But his assistants were not so imperturbable. Smarting under the jeers
of the crowd, they proceeded to cast about for some implement with which
to effect an entrance; and presently they found an axe. With this one
of them set to work; and crash! crash! went the weight of iron on to the
trembling door. The wood began to yield. Splinters showed--then a
narrow breach was made--the hole grew wider--and just as it became
evident that the demolition of the door was but a matter of a few
minutes, a heavier stroke than usual snapped the shaft of the axe in
twain, the iron head falling inside the cottage. By this time the
attitude of the crowd had again altered--from derision to fierce
resentment; there were groans renewed again and again; missiles flew
freely. And then again, and quite suddenly, an apparently trivial
incident entirely changed the aspect of affairs. At that ragged opening
that had been made in the door there appeared two small black circles,
close together; and these were pushed outward a few inches. The
concurrents fell back--and the crowd was silent; well they perceived
what this was; those two small circles were the muzzle of a gun; at any
moment, a violent death--a shattered corpse--might be the next feature
of the scene.
"What does that madman mean to do!" Mary exclaimed, in a paralysis of
terror--for it appeared to her that she was responsible for all that was
happening or might happen.
"Mary," said Kaethchen, under her breath--and she was all trembling with
excitement, "you must come away at once--now--while they are watching
the gun. Perhaps they won't interfere with us--we may get down to the
waggonette--we may have to run for it, too, if those women should turn
on us."
"I cannot go and leave these poor men here," Mary said, in her
desperation. "They will be murdered. That man in there is a madman--a
downright madman----"
Kaethchen lowered her voice still further.
"There is Mr. Ross coming--and oh! I wish he would be quick!"
Indeed it was no other than Donald Ross, who, immediately after leaving
Lochgarra House, had struck off across the hills, hoping by a short cut
to reach Cruagan not long after Miss Stanley's arrival. And now that he
appeared, all eyes were turned towards him; there was no further
groaning, or hooting, or hurling of missiles. He seemed to take in the
situation at a glance. He asked a question of the sheriff's officer.
"I'll just have to come back, sir," said the man, "with an inspector and
a dozen police; but in the meantime I declare that I have been deforced,
and this man Macdonald must answer for it. I hope ye'll give evidence,
sir, if the leddies would rather not come over to Dingwall. You were
not here when my assistants were thrown out of the house; but at least
you can see a gun pointed at us--there it is--through that door."
Young Ross did not go directly forward to the muzzle of the gun--which
would have been the act of a lunatic, for the man inside the cottage
might make a mistake; but he went towards the front of the house, then
approached the door, and struck up the gun with his fist. One barrel
went off--harmlessly enough.
"Hamish!"
He called again; and added something in Gaelic. The door was opened.
There was some further speech in the same tongue; the shaggy-browed
crofter laid aside the gun, and came out into the open air, looking
about him like a wild-beast at bay, but following the young master
submissively enough. Donald Ross went up to Miss Stanley.
"I was afraid there might be a little trouble," said he. "Well, I can
answer for this man--if you will get the sheriff's officer and his
assistants to go away."
"I want them to go away!" she said. "I have no wish at all to put James
Macdonald out of his croft--not in the least--and I will give him time
to pay up arrears, especially as there is to be a re-valuation. I wish
you would tell him that. I wish you would tell him that I had nothing
to do with these proceedings. Tell him I want to deal fairly with
everybody. You can talk to him--I cannot--I cannot explain to him----"
But Macdonald had been listening all the same.
"That woman," said he, sullenly, "she--no business here. The land--Ross
of Heimra's----"
Young Ross turned to him with a muttered exclamation in Gaelic, and with
a flash of flame in the coal-black eyes that did not escape Kaethchen's
notice. The stubborn crofter was silent after that--standing aside in
sombre indifference.
"The officer can bring his action for deforcement, if he likes," Ross
said, "and I suppose Macdonald will be fined forty shillings. But no
one has been hurt; and it seems a pity there should be any further
proceedings, if, as you say, you are going to have a re-valuation of the
crofts"--and then he suddenly checked himself. "I hope you will forgive
me for interfering," he said, quite humbly; "I did not intend to say
anything; it is Mr. Purdie's business--and I do not wish even to offer
you advice."
"I wish I could tell you how much I am obliged to you," she said,
warmly. "If you had not let me know about those men coming, and if you
had not appeared yourself, I believe there would have been murder done
here this day. And now, Mr. Ross, would you get them to go on at once
to Lochgarra, so as to be out of harm's way--and to-morrow they can go
back by the mail-car? I will write to Mr. Purdie. There must be no
further proceedings; and James Macdonald will not be put out of his
croft--not if I have any say in the matter."
So the three officials were started off for the village; the morose
crofter proceeded to pick up his bits of furniture and get them into the
house again; and the crowd of women began to disperse--not silently,
however, but with much shrill and eager decision--towards their own
homes. Young Ross of Heimra went down with the two young ladies to the
waggonette, which was waiting for them below in the road.
He saw them into the carriage.
"But won't you drive back with us?" said Mary.
"Oh, thank you--if I may," he said, rather diffidently; and therewith he
went forward to get up beside the coachman, just as Mr. Purdie would
have done.
The colour rushed to Mary's forehead.
"Mr. Ross," she said, "not there!"--and she herself opened the door of
the waggonette for him, so that perforce he had to take his place beside
them. And was this again (she may have asked herself) the pride that
apes humility; or was it only part of his apparent desire to keep a
marked distance between himself and her? She was vexed with him for
causing her this embarrassment. He had no right to do such things. He
might be a little more friendly. She, on her part, had been frank
enough in expressing her obligations to him; nay, she had gone out of
her way to ask, in a kind of fashion, for his approval. Were all the
advances to come from her side?
But Kate Glendinning noticed this--that as they drew near to the
dried-up waste that had once been Loch Heimra, and as they were passing
the tumbled-down ruins of the ancient stronghold, he pretended that he
did not see anything. He rather turned away his face. He talked of
indifferent matters. Mary had forgotten that they would have to pass by
Loch and Castle Heimra, or perhaps she might have thought twice about
inviting him to drive with them. But quite simply and resolutely he
turned away from those things that all too eloquently spoke of the
irreparable wrong that had been done to him and his, and affected not to
see them or remember them; and Kaethchen--a not uninterested
observer--said proudly to herself: "If that is not Highland courtesy, I
do not know what is."
Wonders will never cease, truly. That evening the astounding rumour had
found its way through the length and breadth of the township: there were
eye-witnesses who could testify: Young Donald of Heimra had been seen in
the same carriage with the two ladies from Lochgarra House.