THE PROMISED LAND AT LAST.
'There is nothing more annoyin' than a hitch at the hin'eren'. What think
you, young sir?'
'I beg pardon,' I replied, 'but I'm afraid I did not quite understand
you.'
I had been standing all alone watching our preparations for dropping down
stream with the tide. What a wearisome time it had been, too!
The Canton was advertised to sail the day before, but did not. We were
assured, however, she would positively start at midnight, and we had gone
to bed expecting to awake at sea. I had fallen asleep brimful of all kinds
of romantic thoughts. But lo! I had been awakened early on the dark
morning of this almost wintry day with the shouting of men, the rattling
of chains, and puff-puff-puffing of that dreadful donkey-engine.
'Oh yes, we'll be off, sure enough, about eight bells.'
This is what the steward told us after breakfast, but all the forenoon had
slipped away, and here we still were. The few people on shore who had
stayed on, maugre wind and sleet, to see the very, _very_ last of friends
on board, looked very worn and miserable.
But surely we were going at last, for everything was shipped and
everything was comparatively still--far too still, indeed, as it turned
out!
'I said I couldn't stand a hitch at the hin'eren', young sir--any trouble
at the tail o' the chapter.'
I looked up--I _had_ to look up, for the speaker was a head and shoulders
bigger than I--a broad-shouldered, brawny, brown-bearded Scotchman. A
Highlander evidently by his brogue, but one who had travelled south, and
therefore only put a Scotch word in here and there when talking--just, he
told me afterwards, to make better sense of the English language.
'Do I understand you to mean that something has happened to delay the
voyage?'
'I dinna care whether you understand me or not,' he replied, with almost
fierce independence, 'but we're broken down.'
It was only too true, and the news soon went all over the ship--spread
like wild-fire, in fact. Something had gone wrong in the engine-room, and
it would take a whole week to make good repairs.
I went below to report matters to aunt and my brothers, and make
preparations for disembarking again.
When we reached the deck we found the big Scot walking up and down with
rapid, sturdy strides; but he stopped in front of me, smiling. He had an
immense plaid thrown Highland-fashion across his chest and left shoulder,
and clutched a huge piece of timber in his hand, which by courtesy might
have been called a cane.
'You'll doubtless go on shore for a spell?' he said. 'A vera judicious
arrangement. I'll go myself, and take my mither with me. And are these
your two brotheries, and your sister? How d'ye do, miss?'
He lifted his huge tam-o'-shanter as he made these remarks--or, in other
words, he seized it by the top and raised it into the form of a huge
pyramid.
'My aunt,' I said, smiling.
'A thousand pa_rr_dons, ma'am!' he pleaded, once more making a pyramid of
his 'bonnet,' while the colour mounted to his brow. 'A thousand
pa_rr_dons!'
Like most of his countrymen, he spoke broader when taken off his guard or
when excited. At such times the _r_'s were thundered or rolled out.
Aunt Cecilia smiled most graciously, and I feel sure she did not object to
be mistaken for our sister.
'It seems,' he added, 'we are to be fellow-passengers. My name is
Moncrieff, and if ever I can be of the slightest service to you, pray
command me.'
'You mentioned your mother,' said aunt, by way of saying something. 'Is
the old--I mean, is she going with you?'
'What else, what else? And you wouldn't be wrong in calling her "old"
either. My mither's no' a spring chicken, but--she's a marvel. Ay,
mither's a marvel.'
'I presume, sir, you've been out before?'
'I've lived for many years in the Silver West. I've made a bit of money,
but I couldn't live a year longer without my mither, so I just came
straight home to take her out. I think when you know my mither you'll
agree with me--she's a marvel.'
On pausing here for a minute to review a few of the events of my past
life, I cannot agree with those pessimists who tell us we are the victims
of chance; that our fates and our fortunes have nothing more certain to
guide them to a good or a bad end than yonder thistle-down which is the
sport of the summer breeze.
When I went on board the good ship Canton, had any one told me that in a
few days more I would be standing by the banks of Loch Coila, I would have
laughed in his face.
Yet so it was. Aunt and Donald stayed in London, while I and Dugald formed
the strange resolve of running down and having one farewell glance at
Coila. I seemed impelled to do so, but how or by what I never could say.
No; we did not go near Edinburgh. Good-byes had been said, why should we
rehearse again all the agony of parting?
Nor did we show ourselves to many of the villagers, and those who did see
us hardly knew us in our English dress.
Just one look at the lake, one glance at the old castle, and we should be
gone, never more to set foot in Coila.
And here we were close by the water, almost under shadow of our own old
home. It was a forenoon in the end of February, but already the
larch-trees were becoming tinged with tender green, a balmy air went
whispering through the drooping silver birches, the sky was blue, flecked
only here and there with fleecy clouds that cast shadow-patches on the
lake. Up yonder a lark was singing, in adjoining spruce thickets we could
hear the croodle of the ringdove, and in the swaying branches of the elms
the solemn-looking rooks were already building their nests. Dugald and I
were lying on the moss.
'Spring always comes early to dear Coila,' I was saying; 'and I'm so glad
the ship broke down, just to give me a chance of saying "Good-bye" to the
loch. You, Dugald, did say "Good-bye" to it, you know, but I never had a
chance.
Ahem! We were startled by the sound of a little cough right behind us--a
sort of made cough, such as people do when they want to attract
attention.
Standing near us was a gentleman of soldierly bearing, but certainly not
haughty in appearance, for he was smiling. He held a book in his hand, and
on his arm leant a beautiful young girl, evidently his daughter, for both
had blue eyes and fair hair.
Dugald and I had started to our feet, and for the life of me I could not
help feeling awkward.
'I fear,' I stammered, 'we are trespassing. But--but my brother and I ran
down from London to say good-bye to Coila. We will go at once.'
'Stay one moment,' said the gentleman. 'Do not run away without
explaining. You have been here before?'
'We are the young M'Crimmans of Coila, sir.'
I spoke sadly--I trust not fiercely.
'Pardon me, but something seemed to tell me you were. We are pleased to
meet you. Irene, my daughter. It is no fault of ours--at least, of
mine--that your family and the M'Raes were not friendly long ago.'
'But my father _would_ have made friends with the chief of Strathtoul,' I
said.
'Yes, and mine had old Highland prejudices. But look, yonder comes a
thunder-shower. You _must_ stay till it is over.'
'I feel, sir,' I said, 'that I am doing wrong, and that I have done wrong.
My father, even, does not know we are here. _He_ has prejudices now,
too,'
'Well,' said the officer, laughing, 'my father is in France. Let us both
be naughty boys. You must come and dine with me and my daughter, anyhow.
Bother old-fashioned blood-feuds! We must not forget that we are living in
the nineteenth century.'
I hesitated a moment, then I glanced at the girl, and next minute we were
all walking together towards the castle.
We did stop to dinner, nor did we think twice about leaving that night.
The more I saw of these, our hereditary enemies, the more I liked them.
Irene was very like Flora in appearance and manner, but she had a greater
knowledge of the world and all its ways. She was very beautiful. Yes, I
have said so already, but somehow I cannot help saying it again. She
looked older than she really was, and taller than most girls of fourteen.
'Well,' I said in course of the evening, 'it _is_ strange my being here.'
'It is only the fortune of war our both being here,' said M'Rae.
'I wonder,' I added, 'how it will all end!'
'If it would only end as I should wish, it would end very pleasantly
indeed. But it will not. You will write filially and tell your good father
of your visit. He will write cordially, but somewhat haughtily, to thank
us. That will be all. Oh, Highland blood is very red, and Highland pride
is very high. Well, at all events, Murdoch M'Crimman--if you will let me
call you by your name without the "Mr."--we shall never forget your visit,
shall we, darling?'
I looked towards Miss M'Rae. Her answer was a simple 'No'; but I was much
surprised to notice that her eyes were full of tears, which she tried in
vain to conceal.
I saw tears in her eyes next morning as we parted. Her father said
'Good-bye' so kindly that my whole heart went out to him on the spot.
'I'm not sorry I came,' I said; 'and, sir,' I added, 'as far as you and I
are concerned, the feud is at an end?'
'Yes, yes; and better so. And,' he continued, 'my daughter bids me say
that she is happy to have seen you, that she is going to think about you
very often, and is so sorrowful you poor lads should have to go away to a
foreign land to seek your fortune while we remain at Coila. That is the
drift of it, but I fear I have not said it prettily enough to please
Irene. Good-bye.'
We had found fine weather at Coila, and we brought it back with us to
London. There was no hitch this time in starting. The Canton got away
early in the morning, even before breakfast. The last person to come on
board was the Scot, Moncrieff. He came thundering across the plank gangway
with strides like a camel, bearing something or somebody rolled in a
tartan plaid.
Dugald and I soon noticed two little legs dangling from one end of the
bundle and a little old face peeping out of the other. It was his mother
undoubtedly.
He put her gently down when he gained the deck, and led her away amidships
somewhere, and there the two disappeared. Presently Moncrieff came back
alone and shook hands with us in the most friendly way.
'I've just disposed of my mither,' he said, as if she had been a piece of
goods and he had sold her. 'I've just disposed of the poor dear creature,
and maybe she won't appear again till we're across the bay.'
'You did not take the lady below?'
'There's no' much of the lady about my mither, though I'm doing all I can
to make her one. No; I didn't take her below. Fact is, we have state
apartments, as you might say, for I've rented the second lieutenant's and
purser's cabins. There they are, cheek-by-jowl, as cosy as wrens'-nests,
just abaft the cook's galley amidships yonder.'
'Well,' I said, 'I hope your mother will be happy and enjoy the voyage.'
'Hurrah!' shouted the Scot; 'we're off at last! Now for a fair wind and a
clear sea to the shores of the Silver West. I'll run and tell my mither
we're off.'
That evening the sun sank on the western waves with a crimson glory that
spoke of fine weather to follow. We were steaming down channel with just
enough sail set to give us some degree of steadiness.
Though my brothers and I had never been to sea before, we had been used to
roughing it in storms around the coast and on Loch Coila, and probably
this may account for our immunity from that terror of the ocean,
_mal-de-mer_. As for aunt, she was an excellent sailor. The saloon, when
we went below to dinner, was most gay, beautifully lighted, and very
home-like. The officers present were the captain, the surgeon, and one
lieutenant. The captain was president, while the doctor occupied the chair
of _vice_. Both looked thorough sailors, and both appeared as happy as
kings. There seemed also to exist a perfect understanding between the
pair, and their remarks and anecdotes kept the passengers in excellent
good humour during dinner.
The doctor had been the first to enter, and he came sailing in with aunt,
whom he seated on his right hand. Now aunt was the only young lady among
the passengers, and she certainly had dressed most becomingly. I could not
help admiring her--so did the doctor, but so also did the captain.
When he entered he gave his surgeon a comical kind of a look and shook his
head.
'Walked to windward of me, I see!' he said. 'Miss M'Crimman,' he added,
'we don't, as a rule, keep particular seats at table in this ship.'
'Don't believe a word he says, Miss M'Crimman!' cried the doctor. 'Look,
he's laughing! He never is serious when he smiles like that. Steward, what
is the number of this chair?'
'Fifteen, sir.'
'Fifteen, Miss M'Crimman, and you won't forget it; and this table-napkin
ring, observe, is Gordon tartan, green and black and orange.'
'Miss M'Crimman,' the captain put in, as if the doctor had not said a
word, 'to-morrow evening, for example, you will have the honour to sit on
my right.'
'Honour, indeed!' laughed the doctor.
'The honour to sit on my right. You will find I can tell much better
stories than old Conserve-of-roses there; and I feel certain you will not
sit anywhere else all the voyage!'
'Ah, stay one moments!' cried a merry-looking little Spaniard, who had
just entered and seated himself quietly at the table; 'the young lady weel
not always sit dere, or dere, for sometime she weel have de honour to sit
at my right hand, for example, eh, capitan?'
There was a hearty laugh at these words, and after this, every one seemed
on the most friendly terms with every one else, and willing to serve every
one else first and himself last. This is one good result that accrues from
travelling, and I have hardly ever yet known a citizen of the world who
could be called selfish.
There were three other ladies at table to-night, each of whom sat by her
husband's side. Though they were all in what Dr. Spinks afterwards termed
the sere and yellow leaf, both he and the good captain really vied with
each other in paying kindly attention to their wants.
So pleasantly did this our first dinner on board pass over that by the
time we had risen from our seats we felt, one and all, as if we had known
each other for a very long time indeed.
Next came our evening concert. One of the married ladies played
exceedingly well, and the little Spanish gentleman sang like a minor Sims
Reeves.
'Your sister sings, I feel sure,' he said to me.
'My aunt plays the harp and sings,' I answered.
'And the harp--you have him?'
'Yes.'
'Oh, bring him--bring him! I do love de harp!'
While my aunt played and sang, it would have been difficult to say which
of her audience listened with the most delighted attention. The doctor's
face was a study; the captain looked tenderly serious; Captain Bombazo,
the black-moustachioed Spaniard, was animation personified; his dark eyes
sparkled like diamonds, his very eyelids appeared to snap with pleasure.
Even the stewards and stewardess lingered in the passage to listen with
respectful attention, so that it is no wonder we boys were proud of our
clever aunt.
When she ceased at last there was that deep silence which is far more
eloquent than applause. The first to break it was Moncrieff.
'Well,' he said, with a deep sigh, 'I never heard the like o' that
afore!'
The friendly relations thus established in the saloon lasted all the
voyage long--so did the captain's, the doctor's, and little Spanish
officer's attentions to my aunt. She had made a triple conquest; three
hearts, to speak figuratively, lay at her feet.
Our voyage was by no means a very eventful one, and but little different
from thousands of others that take place every month.
Some degree of merriment was caused among the men, when, on the fourth
day, big Moncrieff led his mother out to walk the quarter-deck leaning on
his arm. She was indeed a marvel. It would have been impossible even to
guess at her age; for though her face was as yellow as a withered lemon,
and as wrinkled as a Malaga rasin, she walked erect and firm, and was
altogether as straight as a rush. She was dressed with an eye to comfort,
for, warm though the weather was getting, her cloak was trimmed with fur.
On her head she wore a neat old-fashioned cap, and in her hand carried a
huge green umbrella, which evening and morning she never laid down except
at meals.
[Illustration: 'I'll teach ye!']
This umbrella was a weapon of offence as well as defence. We had proof of
that on the very first day, for as he passed along the deck the second
steward had the bad manners to titter. Next moment the umbrella had
descended with crushing force on his head, and he lay sprawling in the lee
scuppers.
'I'll teach ye,' she said, 'to laugh at an auld wife, you gang-the-gate
swinger.'
'Mither! mither!' pleaded Moncrieff, 'will you never be able to behave
like a lady?'
The steward crawled forward crestfallen, and the men did not let him
forget his adventure in a hurry.
'Mither's a ma_rr_vel,' Moncrieff whispered to me more than once that
evening, for at table no 'laird's lady' could have behaved so well, albeit
her droll remarks and repartee kept us all laughing. After dinner it was
just the same--there were no bounds to her good-nature, her excellent
spirits and comicality. Even when asked to sing she was by no means taken
aback, but treated us to a ballad of five-and-twenty verses, with a chorus
to each; but as it told a story of love and war, of battle and siege, of
villainy for a time in the ascendant, and virtue triumphant at the end, it
really was not a bit wearisome; and when Moncrieff told us that she could
sing a hundred more as good, we all agreed that his mother was indeed a
marvel.
I have said the voyage was uneventful, but this is talking as one who has
been across the wide ocean many times and oft. No long voyage can be
uneventful; but nothing very dreadful happened to mar our passage to Rio
de Janeiro. We were not caught in a tornado; we were not chased by a
pirate; we saw no suspicious sail; no ghostly voice hailed us from aloft
at the midnight hour; no shadowy form beckoned us from a fog. We did not
even spring a leak, nor did the mainyard come tumbling down. But we _did_
have foul weather off Finisterre; a man _did_ fall overboard, and was duly
picked up again; a shark _did_ follow the ship for a week, but got no
corpse to devour, only the contents of the cook's pail, sundry bullets
from sundry revolvers, and, finally, a red-hot brick rolled in a bit of
blanket. Well, of course, a man fell from aloft and knocked his shoulder
out--a man always does--and Mother Carey's chickens flew around our stern,
boding bad weather, which never came, and shoals of porpoises danced
around us at sunset, and we saw huge whales pursuing their solitary path
through the bosom of the great deep, and we breakfasted off flying fish,
and caught Cape pigeons, and wondered at the majestic flight of the
albatross; and we often saw lightning without hearing thunder, and heard
thunder without seeing lightning; and in due course we heard the thrilling
shout from aloft of 'Land ho!' and heard the officer of the watch sing
out, 'Where away?'
And lo and behold! three or four hours afterwards we were all on deck
marvelling at the rugged grandeur of the shores of Rio, and the wondrous
steeple-shaped mountain that stands sentry for ever and ever and ever at
the entrance to the marvellous haven.
When this was in sight, Moncrieff rushed off into the cabin and bore his
mother out.
He held the old lady aloft, on one arm, shouting, as he pointed
landwards--
'Look, mither, look! the Promised Land! Our new home in the Silver West!'