A REVOLUTION THAT FAILED.
But at first the two young men--especially when they were in the society
of the young women--professed to make light of the threatened invasion.
What harm could come of allowing a parcel of notoriety-hunting
adventurers to air their eloquence--and their ignorance? The crofters
would at once perceive that Ogden, M.P., knew no more about them and
their ways of life than he knew about the inhabitants of the moon. As
for Mademoiselle Ernestine--the fiery Ernestine would find it difficult
to set the Highland peat-bogs in a blaze with her little tin can of
paraffin. And as for Mrs. Jackson Noyes of Connecticut--but here the
young men had to confess that they knew nothing of Mrs. Jackson Noyes;
and so, to amuse themselves, at dinner, they set to work to construct an
imaginary Mrs. Noyes out of a series of guesses.
"She is a passionate sympathiser with all suffering races--especially
married women," said Mr. Meredyth, confidently.
"Men are brutes," observed Fred Stanley.
"She will denounce the hideous cruelty of landlords stalking grouse with
express rifles," said Meredyth, keeping the ball rolling.
"She will call on the crofters to arise in their wrath and demand that
of every stag killed two haunches must be delivered over to them, the
remaining two to be retained by the landlord."
"But doesn't that sound reasonable?" said Kaethchen, innocently--whereat
there was a roar.
"Miss Glendinning," said Meredyth, apologetically, "you forget: the
haunches of a stag are limited in number. It was Mrs. Jackson Noyes's
idea of a stag we were dealing with. Well, Fred, what next?"
"Any landlord or farmer," continued the younger man, with a
matter-of-fact air, "found guilty of killing a sheep without the aid of
chloroform to be sent to jail for twenty-five years. No lamb to be
taken away from its mother without the mother's consent--in writing,
stamped, sealed, and delivered before the Sheriff of Dingwall."
"A compulsory rate," suggested Frank Meredyth, "levied on landlords, of
course--for the relief of bed-ridden peat-hags----"
"Oh, stop that nonsense!" Mary interposed, laughing in a shamefaced kind
of way. "They can't be as ignorant as all that."
"Oh, can't they?" said he, coolly. "I've seen lots of worse
things--accompanied by eloquent, if occasionally ungrammatical,
denunciations of the brutal landlords. You are a landlord, Miss
Stanley; and you have taken the wages of blood and sin. If I were you I
should feel inclined to throw down the thirty pieces of silver and
depart and go and hang myself."
"She won't do that," said her brother. "But what she is more likely to
do is to give up the pasture of Meall-na-Fearn that those people demand.
And then Mrs. Jackson Noyes will telegraph to the _Connecticut Radiator_
that a great triumph has been achieved, and that the American banner has
begun to wave over the benighted Highlands."
"I wish the American banner didn't wave over so many Highland
deer-forests," said Meredyth, briefly; and there an end for the moment.
But the talk of the two young men when they were by themselves was very
different.
"What ought to be done, and done at once," said Fred Stanley, "is to
send over to Dingwall for a body of police. Indeed, the meeting should
be suppressed altogether: it is a clear instigation to riot. I don't
see how a riot can be avoided--if those howlers are allowed to rave.
But my sister won't hear of it. Oh, no! Everything is to be amiable and
friendly and pleasant. She is quite sure that the crofters are grateful
to her for their lowered rents and all that. Grateful!--they don't know
what gratitude is!"
"But at all events you must remember this," said Meredyth, "that your
sister has been here a much longer time than you; and she has been doing
her best to get to understand these people and their wants and their
habits of thinking. She may be a little too confident: in that case, it
is for you and me to see that she is kept out of harm's way. And as far
as I can judge, the main event of the day is to be a raid into Glen Orme
forest----"
"By the Lord, they'll get a warm reception if they try that!" young
Stanley broke in. "I can tell you, from what I've heard of him, Colonel
Tomlins isn't the sort of man to let a lot of vagabonds march past Glen
Orme Lodge and take possession of the forest--I should think not. The
ragged army will find a sufficient force awaiting them--keepers,
foresters, gillies, and the guns of the house-party: there may be
driving--but it won't be the deer that will be driven off."
"That as it may be," said Meredyth, with much calmness. "But even if
there is a scrimmage up there, what has that got to do with us? I don't
care a brass farthing about the Glen Orme deer; I want to see your
sister safe. And if the torrent of revolution flows peacefully past
this house, and goes to expend itself in Glen Orme--let it, and
welcome!"
"Yes, but that is too much to expect," Fred Stanley said, gloomily. "It
is my sister who will be preached against by those fanatics. It is she
who is the representative here of the landlord interest.
Gratitude!--it's precious little gratitude they'll show, when they have
this fellow Donald Ross secretly egging them on. Of course, he is
annoyed that you and I should have come up to interfere with him; he
thought he would only have a woman to deal with; and that the keepers
could make all kinds of excuses to her. But now he finds it different.
I imagine he knows very well that he is suspected and watched, and that
there is a chance of his being caught at any moment--a chance that I
mean to make a certainty of before I leave this place!"
"My young friend," said Meredyth, dispassionately, "I'm afraid you are
becoming _entete_ about this Donald Ross. And yet I don't wonder at it.
I've seen a similar state of affairs, many a time, before now. The fact
is, when once you suspect poaching, the suspicion becomes a sort of
mania, and all your comfort in the shooting is gone. It is precisely
the same on board a yacht. If you once suspect your skipper or your
steward of drinking, it's all over with you; you are always looking
out--mistrusting--imagining; you may as well go ashore at once, or get
another skipper or steward. Of course, the poaching is still more
vexatious; for you feel you are being defied and cheated at the same
time; and you want revenge; and the poacher is generally a devil of a
clever fellow. But, after all, Fred, your sister is right: even if you
are convinced that there is poaching going on--as there has certainly
been some little ill-will shown against us now and then--still, you have
nothing to prove that Donald Ross is the culprit--nothing."
"I will catch him yet," said Fred Stanley under his breath.
Next morning being Sunday morning, they all went to church. In going
down through the village they could perceive no sign of excitement,
anticipatory of the next day: on the contrary, all was decorous quiet.
Shutters were shut; in some cases the blinds were drawn down; the few
people they saw were dressed in black, and were certainly not breaking
the Lord's day by idle or frivolous conversation. But here was John the
policeman.
"Well, John," said Mary, to the plump and placid Iain, who smiled
good-naturedly when she addressed him, "are we to have civil war
to-morrow?"
"Mem?" said John--not understanding.
"Is there going to be a riot to-morrow?" she repeated.
"Aw, no, mem," said John, in a mildly deprecating way. "I am not
thinking that. The meeting it will be in the church, and there is the
Minister."
"And what are you going to do?" said she. "I suppose you know they
threaten to drive the sheep off Meall-na-Fearn, and there is a proposal
to go into Glen Orme forest. Well, what are you going to do?"
"I am not sure," said Iain, with a vague, propitiatory grin.
"You have taken no steps to preserve the peace, then?" she
demanded--but, indeed, she was well aware of John's comfortable,
easy-going optimism.
"Aw, well," said the round-cheeked representative of the law, "mebbe the
lads will no do anything at ahl; and if they go into the forest, mebbe
they will no do mich harm."
"But I suppose you have heard that Colonel Tomlins's keepers and
foresters mean to stop them, if they should attempt any such thing; and
it isn't at all likely that Mr. Watson's shepherds will let them drive
the sheep off Meall-na-Fearn without some kind of resistance. What then?
What are you going to do?"
"Aw, well," said John--letting his eyes rove aimlessly away towards
Heimra Island, and then to the little white Free Church beyond the bay,
and then back to the ground in front of Miss Stanley's feet, "mebbe
there will be no mich harm; and the Minister will be in charge
whatever----"
"Look here, John," Fred Stanley broke in, peremptorily, "it is quite
clear to me that you mean to stand by and let anything happen that is
likely to happen. Very well, I wish to give you notice--and I wish the
people about here to understand--that if there's any demonstration made
against Lochgarra House, we've got a gun or two there--half a dozen of
them--and we don't mean to stand any nonsense."
"Fred!" said she, and she drew her head up: he was put to silence in a
moment. Then she turned to the phlegmatic Iain. "You must do what you
can to give good advice to any of the young men you may hear talking.
These strangers that are coming--what do they know about Lochgarra?
They only wish to stir up strife, for their own purposes. And it would
be a very bad thing for any of the men about here to be sent for trial
to Edinburgh, merely because these strangers were bent on making
mischief.
"Yes, mem," answered Iain, obediently--but in a vague way: perhaps he
did not quite comprehend.
"John," said Fred Stanley, coming to the front again, "do you know
anything about the scringeing that goes on about here?"
This time John did understand.
"Me, sir?" he replied--as if such a question were an insult to the
dignity of his office. And perhaps he would have gone on to protest as
earnestly as his good-humoured laziness would allow, that he had no
knowledge of any such illegal practices, but that Mary Stanley
intervened, and carried her party off with her to church.
Of course it was the English portion of the day's services that they
attended, in the little, plain, ill-ventilated building. The sermon was
so severely doctrinal that they could not follow it very well; while the
occasional appeals to the heart, uttered in that high falsetto
sing-song, fell with a somewhat unnatural note on the ear. Yet the
small congregation listened devoutly--with an occasional sigh. Mary
Stanley's attention was not occupied much with the pulpit: she was
looking rather at the sad, withered, weather-worn faces of certain of
the older people--and thinking what their lot in life had been. She
recalled a saying she had heard somewhere in the Black Forest--"The
world grows every day harder for us poor folk that are so old;" and she
was wondering when her modest, but at least assiduous and sincere,
efforts to somewhat better their condition and introduce a measure of
cheerfulness into their surroundings would be accepted with a little
goodwill. As for the middle-aged and younger men, she was less
concerned about them. If they meant to break the windows of Lochgarra
House next day, or pillage the garden, or set fire to the kennels, she
would stand by and let them do their worst. But she did not think she
had deserved such treatment at their hands. When they came out of church
again Miss Stanley and her friends lingered awhile, for she wished to
intercept the Minister; and eventually Mr. Pettigrew made his
appearance. As he approached them, Mr. Pettigrew's gaunt and grey-hued
face wore a certain look of apprehension, and he was nervously stroking
his long and straggling beard. But Mary received him pleasantly enough.
"How do you do, Mr. Pettigrew?" said she. "I thought I should like to
know whether you are going to the gathering to-morrow. If these
placards that are scattered about mean anything, it may be necessary for
someone who is well acquainted with the people to be present to speak a
quieting word; and as you have lent the church for the purposes of the
meeting, I suppose you accept a certain responsibility----"
"Oh, no, Miss Stanley, I would not say that," the Minister responded,
rather anxiously, "I would not say that. I think it is a wise thing and
a just thing that the people should have an opportunity of conferring
one with another about their temporal interests; but it is not for me to
be a partisan. I would fain see all men's minds contented as regards
their worldly affairs, so that they might the more readily turn to their
spiritual requirements and needs. Ay. It is hardly for me to give
counsel--either the counsel of Ahitophel or the counsel of Hushai the
Archite--"
"And so," said Kaethchen, striking in (for she had not yet had a chance
of opening her mind to Mr. Pettigrew), "you invite these strangers to
come here and stir up contention and mischief--you give them your pulpit
to preach from--and then you step aside, and wash your hands of all
responsibility! I should have thought a minister of the gospel would
have been on the side of peace, not on the side of disturbance and
riot----"
"Dear me--dear me--it is all a mistake!" the bewildered Minister
exclaimed. "I assure ye it is all a mistake. I did not invite
them--Mr. Fraser wrote to me--and I thought I was justified in giving
them permission--so that all men's minds might be leeberated. Is not
that on the side of peace? Let the truth be spoken, though the heavens
fall!--it's a noble axiom--a noble axiom. If the message that these
people bring with them have not the truth in it, it will perish; if it
have the truth in it, it will endure----"
"Yes, that's all very well," said the intrepid Kaethchen. "But in the
meantime? What's going to happen in the meantime? And if there is a
general riot to-morrow, and property destroyed, and people injured--the
truth of the message won't mend that. And what do those people know
about Lochgarra? How can they know anything? They are coming here
merely to incite a lot of ignorant crofters and cottars to break the
law; and you lend them your pulpit, so that the people about here will
think the church is on their side, even if they should take it into
their heads to set fire to Lochgarra House!"
"Dear me!" said the Minister--who had not expected any such attack from
this amiable and rather nice-looking young lady, "I hope nothing of the
kind will happen."
"At all events, Mr. Pettigrew," said Mary, interposing, "I understand
you don't mean to be present at this meeting? You will let those
strangers talk whatever inflammatory stuff they choose without any word
of protest or caution. Well, I suppose you have the right to decide for
yourself. But I mean to go. If they have anything to say against me, I
want to hear it. If I have no one to defend me, I must defend
myself----"
"Oh, but I beg your pardon, Miss Stanley!" Frank Meredyth broke in.
"You are not quite so defenceless--not at all! For my own part, I don't
think you ought to go to this meeting--I think it will be unwise and
uncalled for; but if you do go, you sha'n't go alone--I will see to
that."
And again, after they had left the Minister, and were on their way back
to Lochgarra House, he urgently begged her to abandon this enterprise;
and her brother joined in, and quite as warmly.
"Why, you are the very person they have come to denounce!" Fred Stanley
exclaimed. "You are the representative of the landlords. And what will
they think of your appearing at the meeting? They will take it as an
open challenge!"
"I mean it as an open challenge," she said, proudly. "I want to know
what I am accused of. I want to ask what more I could have done--with
my limited means. For of course my means are limited. I can't build
breakwaters, and buy fleets of fishing-boats, and make railways; for I
haven't the money. And I can't change the soil, or alter the climate,
or even alter the habits of the people."
"What did I tell you, Mamie, at Invershin Station?" said Kaethchen; but
Mary Stanley went on unheeding--
"If there are grievances still to be redressed, I want to hear of them."
"Their real grievance is that they haven't got the land for nothing,"
observed her brother, who had a short and summary way of dealing with
such questions.
"Well, if you must go, at least we can promise you a body-guard," said
Frank Meredyth, as they were ascending the wide stone steps. "At the
same time, I think you would be very much better advised to stay at
home."
That afternoon the ordinary dull somnolence of a Lochgarra Sunday gave
way to a quite unusual, if subdued, excitement. To begin with, about
half-past three a waggonette came rattling into the silent little
village, and drew up at the inn; while its occupants--the three apostles
of Land Liberation--descended and disappeared from view. They were not
gone long, however. The cottagers, furtively peeping from behind door
or window-blind, beheld the strangers come out again and set off for a
walk along the sea-front, scanning every object on each hand of them as
they passed. The central figure of the three was a large and
heavily-built man, pale and flabby of face, with small, piggish,
twinkling eyes, close-cropped and stubbly yellow hair, and a wide but
thin-lipped and resolute mouth. He wore a loose-flapping frock-coat,
and a black felt wideawake; his hands were clasped behind him; he
waddled as he walked. On his right was a tall and elderly woman, spare,
and rather elegant of figure; with a thin, sharp face which, either from
constitutional acridity of blood or perhaps from driving in the sun, was
distinctly violent in colour: this was Ernestine--the fiery
Ernestine--who had no doubt brought with her her torch and can of
paraffin. As for the lady who had come all the way across the Atlantic
to enlighten these poor souls of crofters, no one could say what she was
like; for she was entirely enveloped in a brown dust-coat and a blue
veil. But she was shorter than either of her companions.
"There are only three of them--there ought to be four," said Frank
Meredyth, as the Lochgarra House party were regarding these passing
strangers from the drawing-room window. "The big man is Ogden--he is
easily recognisable--I'm afraid he has puffed himself out with too much
tea-drinking; but where is the Highland Land Leaguer?"
"Why, you don't suppose the vice-president of a branch of the Highland
Land League would travel on a Sunday?" said Kaethchen. "He will be
coming along to-morrow morning,--even if he has to walk or drive all
night."
Mary was also regarding the strangers.
"If the American woman, whichever she is," said she, quietly, "is going
to denounce me to-morrow, she has not left herself much time to get
information about this place. She will have to begin at once, if she
wishes to ascertain the facts."
"The facts!" said Meredyth. "She won't have to search about for them.
She has brought them with her--from Connecticut."
Truly this was an afternoon of surprises. For while on a rare occasion
it might happen that someone arrived at Lochgarra on Sunday by road, it
was almost an unheard-of thing that anyone should come in by sea.
Boating of any description was quite unknown on the sacred day; there
was no ferry--no Queen's highway to be kept open; while as for going on
the water for pleasure, such sacrilege never entered the brain of a
native of Lochgarra. And yet here, unmistakeably, was a small
black-hulled lugger, with a ruddy brown sail, coming steadily in before
the light westerly breeze; and when, having at length gained the shelter
of the quay, she was rounded into the wind, and yard and sail lowered,
her occupants presently got into the little dinghey astern, and came
ashore. From the drawing-room of Lochgarra House they were easily
distinguishable: they were Big Archie, Donald Ross of Heimra, and the
young lad who was usually in charge of the lugger. When they landed,
young Ross left his companions, and went directly up to the inn.
"Ha! didn't I tell you?" Fred Stanley cried, with an air of triumph.
"Before the storm the petrel!--I thought we should see him somewhere
about, when this affair was coming off. Only, he has missed his
confederates. I wonder if they have gone far. I suppose Mr. Ogden has
taken his American friend up Minard way to show her what a crofter's
cottage is like--or perhaps she wants to look at the bed-ridden
peat-hags. We shall find Ross following them in a moment--only he won't
know which way they have gone." Of a sudden he rose from his seat, as
if struck by some new idea. "I've a great mind to go down to the inn.
What do you say, Frank? I should like to step up to him and tell him
that he'll find his friends if he goes up the Minard road."
"You shall do nothing of the kind!" said Mary, angrily.
"I should like to see the expression of his face!" her brother observed.
"If they are friends of Mr. Ross, he can find them for himself," said
she. "It is none of our business. And--and--if they are not--I won't
have him insulted by anyone going from this house!"
He looked at her: she did not often talk in this indignant and vehement
way.
"Oh, very well," he said. "Very well. It doesn't matter to me. You
may have cause to change your opinion to-morrow."
All that evening very little mention was made of the subject about which
everyone was secretly thinking. Frank Meredyth, finding it was of no
use to try to move Mary from her purpose, thought the best thing he
could do was to reassure her: he said he hoped Ernestine would prove
amusing. And next morning, too, he professed to treat the whole affair
as a jest; but all the same he kept going to the window from time to
time, to have a look at the little groups of twos and threes who were
congregated here and there, talking amongst themselves. For there was
clearly some small commotion prevailing; the people were not attending
to their ordinary affairs; the most trifling occurrence--a dog-fight in
the street--attracted all eyes.
Mary insisted on setting out early; she wished everyone to see that she
was going to attend the meeting. And hardly had they left the
house--they were going round by the end of the quay--when Fred Stanley
said in an undertone to his neighbour Meredyth--
"I don't know what's going to happen; but if they try on any games, I've
got a little friend in my pocket here that can bark--and bite."
Mary overheard, and turned on him at once.
"What is that?" said she. "Your revolver? Let me see it."
He looked round: there was no one by.
"Oh, it is an elegant little companion to have with you," he said,
bringing forth the silver-mounted weapon from his pocket, and regarding
it quite affectionately.
She took it from him--he thinking that she merely wished to look at
it--and, without more ado, she pitched it over the low sea-wall: there
was a splash in the clear green water, and a bubble or two of air.
"Things of that sort are not fit for children," she said--and she took
no heed of the angry flush that at once rose to his forehead: anger more
probably caused by the reference to his youth than to the loss of his
revolver. However, he said nothing; and so they went on again; and
eventually arrived at the church.
When they entered the little building and modestly took their places in
the nearest of the pews, there ensued a rather awkward moment; for they
had come early; and, on looking round, they found that the only other
persons present were they who had summoned the meeting; so that the
hostile camps had a good opportunity of contemplating each other. The
pulpit (like the body of the church) was empty; but in the precentor's
box was a serious-visaged, brown-bearded man, who was no doubt Mr.
Fraser, of the Stratherrick Branch of the Highland Land League; while
underneath him, in the square space partitioned off for the pews of the
elders, sate the three persons who were to address the meeting. They
were all gravely silent, as was fit and proper; but their eyes were
alert; and it was as clear as daylight to Mary's friends that the
strangers had recognised in her the lady of Lochgarra House, whom they
had come to impeach as the representative in these parts of the
iniquitous landlord interest. It was indeed an awkward moment; and Mr.
Ogden's glances of scrutiny were furtive, until he turned away
altogether; but the thin and feverish-faced Mlle. Ernestine took more
confident survey; and her bold black eyes went from one to the other of
the group, but were most frequently fixed on Mary Stanley. The lady
from Connecticut, also, was obviously curious: most probably she had
never beheld before any of those people whose malevolent turpitude had
brought the Highlands to such a pass.
The time went slowly by, in this constrained silence. The
vice-president of the Stratherrick Branch, from his seat in the
precentor's box, began to look rather anxiously towards the door. Mr.
Ogden glanced at his watch. Frank Meredyth did likewise--it was ten
minutes after one. And yet there had been no sign of any human
being--except for a small boy who had thrust his shock head in for a
second, and gazed wonderingly around the empty church, and then
withdrawn with a scared face. At length the chairman leaned over the
edge of the precentor's box, and in an audible whisper said--
"Mr. Ogden, I'm thinking ye'd better go out and tell them?"
Mr. Ogden hesitated for a moment, and then made answer--
"Don't you think we should begin the proceedings?--that will be the best
announcement."
"Very well," said Mr. Fraser; and he rose in his place with a heavy sigh
of preparation. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "before coming to
local matters, I will ask Mrs. Jackson Noyes to read a paper that she
has prepared. Mrs. Noyes has recently completed a two days' trip round
the West Highlands in the steamer _Dunara Castle_; and where she has
been unable to land--for the steamer does not give ye much time at any
place--she has used her eyes, or her opera-glass, impartially; and what
she has seen she has put down. The title of the paper is; '_The
Horrible Desolation of the Highlands, as Descried from the Deck of the
Dunara_.' Would ye get up on the bench, mem?"
This last murmured invitation was addressed to Mrs. Noyes, who rose to
her feet, but seemed to shrink from taking up any more prominent
position. Indeed, the poor woman looked dreadfully embarrassed; her
face was all aflame; instead of proceeding with her paper, she kept
glancing helplessly towards the door, whither Mr. Ogden had gone to
reconnoitre; and it was clear she could not bring herself to begin
without an audience, or, rather, with that small audience that was a
hundred times worse than none. And presently Mr. Ogden came back--his
face black as thunder. He went up to the precentor's box, and muttered
something to the chairman. He returned to the elders' enclosure, and
said something to the two ladies--who seemed entirely bewildered. The
next moment the four of them had filed out of the church, without a
word.
"Well, this is the most astounding thing!" Frank Meredyth exclaimed,
when his party had also left their places, and got into the open air.
"What is the matter with the people? Not a living soul has come near
the place! No wonder the big Parliament-man was in a furious rage!"
But Mary had turned to Kate Glendinning, who had fallen a step or two
behind.
"Kaethchen," she said, in an undertone, "what is the meaning of all
this? I can see perfectly well you know something about it."
For indeed Kaethchen was all tremblingly triumphant, and joyous, and
also inclined to tears--half-hysterical, in short.
"Mamie--Mamie," she said, between that laughing and crying, "I knew he
could do it if he liked--and--and--I thought he would--for your sake--"
"What are you talking about?" said Mary: but a sudden self-conscious
look showed that she had guessed.
"You needn't be angry, Mamie," said Kaethchen, her wet eyes shining with
a half-concealed pride and delight; "but--but I was terribly frightened
about what might happen to you; and yesterday I sent Big Archie out to
Heimra--I told him to go as soon as the people had got into church--and
I gave him a note. For I knew he would answer the message at once--and
that he would see you came to no harm--"
"Do you mean Donald Ross?" said Mary, rather breathlessly.
"Who else could have done it?" said Kaethchen, with something of
reproach. "And I knew he would do that--or anything--for your sake.
Oh, do you think I can't see?--do you think I have no eyes?"
Mary did not answer: she walked on in silence for a little while. But
by and by she said--
"Kaethchen, don't you think I ought to see Mr. Ross--before he goes back
to Heimra?"
END OF VOL. II.
LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.