This was not the only danger that once more overshadowed the path of
Lord Erradeen. Underwood had been left alone in one of those foreign
centres of "pleasure," so called, whither he had led his so often
impatient and unruly pupil. He had been left, without notice, by a
sudden impulse, such as he was now sufficiently acquainted with in
Walter--who had always the air of obeying angrily and against his will
the temptations with which he was surrounded: a sort of moral
indignation against himself and all that aided in his degradation
curiously mingling with the follies and vices into which he was led. You
never knew when you had him, was Captain Underwood's own description. He
would dart aside at a tangent, go off at the most unlikely moment, dash
down the cup when it was at the sweetest, and abandon with disgust the
things that had seemed to please him most. And Underwood knew that the
moment was coming when his patron and _protégé_ must return home: but
notwithstanding he was left, without warning, as by a sudden caprice;
the young man, who scorned while he yielded to his influence, having
neither respect nor regard enough for his companion to leave a word of
explanation. Underwood was astonished and angry as a matter of course,
but his anger soon subsided, and the sense of Lord Erradeen's importance
to him was too strong to leave room for lasting resentment, or at least
for anything in the shape of relinquishment. He was not at all disposed
to give the young victim up. Already he had tasted many of what to him
were the sweets of life by Walter's means, and there were endless
capabilities in Lord Erradeen's fortune and in his unsettled mind, which
made a companion like Underwood too wise ever to take offence, necessary
to him--which that worthy would not let slip. After the shock of finding
himself deserted, he took two or three days to consider the matter, and
then he made his plan. It was bold, yet he thought not too bold. He
followed in the very track of his young patron, passing through
Edinburgh and reaching Auchnasheen on the same momentous day which had
witnessed Julia Herbert's visit to the isle. Captain Underwood was very
well known at Auchnasheen. He had filled in many ways the position of
manager and steward to the last lord. He had not been loved, but yet he
had not been actively disliked. If there was some surprise and a little
resistance on the part of the household there was at least no open
revolt. They received him coldly, and required considerable explanation
of the many things which he required to be done. They were all aware, as
well as he was, that Lord Erradeen was to be expected from day to day,
and they had made such preparations for his arrival as suggested
themselves: but these were not many, and did not at all please the
zealous captain. His affairs, he felt, were at a critical point. It was
very necessary that the young man should feel the pleasure of being
expected, the surprise of finding everything arranged according to his
tastes.
"You know very well that he will come here exhausted, that he will want
to have everything comfortable," he said to the housekeeper and the
servants. "No one would like after a fatiguing journey to come into a
bare sort of a miserable place like this."
"My lord is no so hard to please," said the housekeeper, standing her
ground. "Last year he just took no notice. Whatever was done he was not
heeding."
"Because he was unused to everything: now it is different; and I mean to
have things comfortable for him."
"Well, captain! I am sure it's none of my wish to keep the poor young
gentleman from his bits of little comforts. Ye'll have _his_ authority?"
"Oh, yes, I have his authority. It will be for your advantage to mind
what I tell you; even more than with the late lord. I've been abroad
with him. He left me but a short time ago; I was to follow him, and look
after everything."
At this the housekeeper looked at the under-factor Mr. Shaw's
subordinate, who had come to intimate to her her master's return. "Will
that be all right, Mr. Adamson?" Adamson put his shaggy head on one side
like an intelligent dog and looked at the stranger. But they all knew
Captain Underwood well enough, and no one was courageous enough to
contradict him.
"It will, maybe, be as ye say," said the under-factor cautiously.
"Anyway it will do us no harm to take his orders," he added, in an
undertone to the woman. "He was always very far ben with the old lord."
"The worse for him," said that important functionary under her breath.
But she agreed with Adamson afterwards that as long as it was my lord's
comfort he was looking after and not his own, his orders should be
obeyed. As with every such person, the household distrusted this
confident and unpaid major domo. But Underwood had not been tyrannical
in his previous reign, and young Lord Erradeen during his last residence
at Auchnasheen had frightened them all. He had been like a man beside
himself. If the captain could manage him better, they would be grateful
to the captain; and thus Underwood, though by no means confident of a
good reception, had no serious hindrances to encounter. He strolled
forth when he had arranged everything to "look about him." He saw the
Birkenbraes boat pass in the evening light, returning from the castle,
with a surprise which took away his breath. The boat was near enough to
the shore as it passed to be recognised and its occupants; but not even
Katie, whose eyesight was so keen, recognised the observer on the
beach. He remarked that the party were in earnest conversation,
consulting with each other over something, which seemed to secure
everybody's attention, so that the ordinary quick notice of a stranger,
which is common to country people, was not called forth by his own
appearance. It surprised him mightily to see that such visitors had
ventured to Kinloch Houran. They never would have done so in the time of
the last lord. Had Walter all at once become more friendly, more
open-hearted, perhaps feeling in the company of his neighbours a certain
safety? Underwood was confounded by this new suggestion. It did not
please him. Nothing could be worse for himself than that Lord Erradeen
should find amusement in the society of the neighbourhood. There would
be no more riot if this was the case, no "pleasure," no play; but
perhaps a wife--most terrible of all anticipations. Underwood had been
deeply alarmed before by Katie Williamson's ascendancy; but when Lord
Erradeen returned to his own influence, he had believed that risk to be
over. If, however, it recurred again, and, in this moment while
undefended by his, Underwood's, protection, if the young fellow had
rushed into the snare once more, the captain felt that the incident
would acquire new significance.
There were women whom he might have tolerated if better could not be.
Julia Herbert was one whom he could perhaps--it was possible--have "got
on with," though possibly she would have changed after her marriage; but
with Katie, Underwood knew that he never would get on. If this were so
he would have at once to disappear. All his hopes would be over--his
prospect of gain or pleasure by means of Lord Erradeen. And he had "put
up with" so much! nobody knew how much he had put up with. He had
humoured the young fellow, and endured his fits of temper, his changes
of purpose, his fantastic inconsistencies of every kind. What friendship
it was on his part, after Erradeen had deserted him, left him planted
there--as if he cared for the d---- place where he had gone only to
please the young'un! thus to put all his grievances in his pocket and
hurry over land and sea to make sure that all was comfortable for the
ungrateful young man! That was true friendship, by Jove; what a man
would do for a man! not like a woman that always had to be waited upon.
Captain Underwood felt that his vested rights were being assailed, and
that if it came to this it would be a thing to be resisted with might
and main. A wife! what did Erradeen want with a wife? Surely it would be
possible to put before him the charms of liberty once more and prevent
the sacrifice. He walked along the side of the loch almost keeping up
with the boat, hot with righteous indignation, in spite of the cold wind
which had driven Mrs. Forrester into the house. Presently he heard the
sound of salutations on the water, of oars clanking upon rowlocks from a
different quarter, and saw the boat from the isle--Hamish rowing in his
red shirt--meet with the large four-oared boat from Birkenbraes and
pause while the women's voices exchanged a few sentences, chorused by
Mr. Williamson's bass. Then the smaller boat came on towards the shore,
towards the point near which a carriage was waiting. Captain Underwood
quickened his steps a little, and he it was who presented himself to
Julia Herbert's eyes as she approached the bit of rocky beach, and
hurrying down, offered his hand to help her.
"What a strange meeting," cried Julia; "what a small world, as everybody
says! Who could have thought, Captain Underwood, of seeing you here?"
"I might reply, if the surprise were not so delightful, who could have
thought, Miss Herbert, of seeing you here? for myself it is a second
home to me, and has been for years."
"My reason for being here is simple. Let me introduce you to my cousin,
Lady Herbert. Sir Thomas has got the shootings lower down. I suppose you
are with Lord Erradeen."
Lady Herbert had given the captain a very distant bow. She did not like
the looks of him, as indeed it has been stated no ladies did, whether in
Sloebury or elsewhere; but at the name of Erradeen she paid a more
polite attention, though the thought of her horses waiting so long in
the cold was already grievous to her. "I hope," she said, "that Lord
Erradeen does not lodge his friends in that old ruin, as he does
himself, people say."
"We are at Auchnasheen, a house you may see among the trees," said the
captain. "Feudal remains are captivating, but not to live in. Does our
friend Walter know, Miss Herbert, what happiness awaits him in your
presence here?"
"What a pretty speech," Julia cried; "far prettier than anything Walter
could muster courage to say. No, Captain Underwood, he does not. It was
all settled quite suddenly. I did not even know that he was here."
"Julia, the horses have been waiting a long time," said Lady Herbert. "I
have no doubt Lord Erradeen is a very interesting subject--but I don't
know what Barber (who was the coachman) will say. I shall be glad to see
your friends any day at luncheon. Tell Lord Erradeen, please. We are two
women alone, Sir Thomas is on the hills all day; all the more we shall
be glad to see him--I mean you both--if you will take pity on our
loneliness. Now, Julia, we really must not wait any longer."
"Tell Walter I shall look for him," said Julia, kissing her hand as they
drove away. Underwood stood and looked after the carriage with varied
emotions. As against Katie Williamson, he was overjoyed to have such an
auxiliary--a girl who would not stand upon any punctilio--who would
pursue her object with any assistance she could pick up, and would not
be above an alliance defensive or offensive, a girl who knew the
advantage of an influential friend. So far as that went he was glad:
but, heavens! what a neighbourhood, bristling with women; a girl at
every corner ready to decoy his prey out of his hands. He was rueful,
even though he was in a measure satisfied. If he could play his cards
sufficiently well to detach Walter from both one and the other, to show
the bondage which was veiled under Julia's smiles and complacency, as
well as under Katie's uncompromising code, and to carry him off under
their very eyes, that would indeed be a triumph; but failing that, it
was better for him to make an ally of Julia, and push her cause, than to
suffer himself to be ousted by the other, the little parvenue, with her
cool impertinence, who had been the first, he thought, to set Walter
against him.
He walked back to Auchnasheen, full of these thoughts, and of plans to
recover his old ascendancy. He had expedients for doing this which would
not bear recording, and a hundred hopes of awakening the passions, the
jealousies, the vanity of the young man whom already he had been able to
sway beyond his expectations. He believed that he had led Walter by the
nose, as he said, and had a mastery over him which would be easily
recovered if he but got him for a day or two to himself. It was a matter
of fact that he had done him much, if not fatal harm; and if the captain
had been clever enough to know that he had no mastery whatever over his
victim, and that Walter was the slave of his own shifting and uneasy
moods, of his indolences and sudden impulses, and immediate abandonment
of himself to the moment, but not of Captain Underwood, that tempter
might have done him still more harm. But he did not possess this finer
perception, and thus lost a portion of his power.
He went back to Auchnasheen to find a comfortable dinner, a good fire, a
cheerful room, full of light and comfort, which reminded him of "old
days," which he gave a regretful yet comfortable thought to in
passing--the time when he had waited, not knowing what moment the old
lord, his former patron, should return from Kinloch Houran. And now he
was waiting for the other--who was so unlike the old lord--and yet had
already been of more use to Underwood, and served him better in his own
way, than the old lord had ever done. He was much softened, and even
perhaps a little maudlin in his thoughts of Walter as he sat over that
comfortable fire. What was he about, poor boy? Not so comfortable as
this friend and retainer, who was drinking his wine and thinking of him.
But he should find some one to welcome him when he returned. He should
find a comfortable meal and good company, which was more than the
foolish fellow would expect. It was foolish of him, in his temper, to
dart away from those who really cared for him, who really could be of
use to him; but by this time the young lord would be too glad, after his
loneliness, to come back and find a faithful friend ready to make
allowances for him, and so well acquainted with his circumstances here.
So well acquainted with his circumstances! Underwood, in his time, had
no doubt wondered over these as much as any one; but that was long ago,
and he had in the mean time become quite familiar with them, and did not
any longer speculate on the subject. He had no supernatural curiosity
for his part. He could understand that one would not like to see a
ghost: and he believed in ghosts--in a fine, healthy, vulgar, natural
apparition, with dragging chains and hollow groans. But as for anything
else, he had never entered into the question, nor had he any thought of
doing so now. However, as he sat by the fire with all these comfortable
accessories round him, and listened now and then to hear if any one was
coming, and sometimes was deceived by the wind in the chimneys, or the
sound of the trees in the fresh breeze which had become keener and
sharper since he came indoors, it happened, how he could not tell, that
questions arose in the captain's mind such as he had never known before.
The house was very still, the servants' apartments were at a
considerable distance from the sitting-rooms, and all was very quiet.
Two or three times in the course of the evening, old Symington, who had
also come to see that everything was in order for his master, walked all
the way from these retired regions through a long passage running from
one end of the house to the other, to the great door, which he opened
cautiously, then shut again, finding nobody in sight, and retired the
same way as he came, his shoes creaking all the way. This interruption
occurring at intervals had a remarkable effect upon Underwood. He began
to wait for its recurrence, to count the steps, to feel a thrill of
alarm as they passed the door of the room in which he was sitting. Oh,
yes, no doubt it was Symington, who always wore creaking shoes, confound
him! But what if it were not Symington? What if it might be some one
else, some mysterious being who might suddenly open the door, and freeze
into stone the warm, palpitating, somewhat unsteady person of a man who
had eaten a very good dinner and drunk a considerable quantity of wine?
This thought so penetrated his mind, that gradually all his thoughts
were concentrated on the old servant's perambulation, watching for it
before it came, thinking of it after it had passed. The steady and
solemn march at intervals, which seemed calculated and regular, was
enough to have impressed the imagination of any solitary person. And the
captain was of a primitive simplicity of mind in some respects. His
fears paralysed him; he was afraid to get up, to open the door, to make
sure what it was. How could he tell that he might not be seized by the
hair of the head by some ghastly apparition, and dragged into a chamber
of horrors! He tried to fortify himself with more wine, but that only
made his tremor worse. Finally the panic came to a crisis, when
Symington, pausing, knocked at the library door. Underwood remembered to
have heard that no spirit could enter without invitation, and he shut
his mouth firmly that no habitual "come in" might lay him open to the
assault of the enemy. He sat breathless through the ensuing moment of
suspense, while Symington waited outside. The captain's hair stood up on
his head; his face was covered with a profuse dew; he held by the table
in an agony of apprehension when he saw the door begin to turn slowly
upon its hinges.
"My lord will not be home the night," said Symington, slowly.
The sight of the old servant scarcely quieted the perturbation of
Underwood. It had been a terrible day for Symington. He was ashy pale or
grey, as old men become when the blood is driven from their faces. He
had not been able to get rid of the scared and terror-stricken sensation
with which he had watched the Birkenbraes party climbing the old stairs,
and wandering as he thought at the peril of their lives upon the unsafe
battlements. He had been almost violent in his calls to them to come
down: but nobody had taken any notice, and they had talked about their
guide and about the gentleman who was living with Lord Erradeen, till it
seemed to Symington that he must go distracted. "Were there ever such
fools--such idiots! since there is nobody staying with Lord Erradeen but
me, his body servant," the old man had said tremulously to himself. At
Symington's voice the captain gave a start and a cry. Even in the relief
of discovering who it was, he could not quiet the excitement of his
nerves.
"It's you, old Truepenny," he cried, yet looked at him across the table
with a tremor, and a very forced and uncomfortable smile.
"That's not my name," said Symington, with, on his side, the irritation
of a disturbed mind. "I'm saying that it's getting late, and my lord
will not be home to-night."
"By Jove!" cried Captain Underwood, "when I heard you passing from one
end of the house to the other, I thought it might be--the old fellow
over there, coming himself----"
"I cannot tell, sir, what you are meaning by the old fellow over there.
There's no old fellow I know of but old Macalister; and it was not for
him you took me."
"If you could have heard how your steps sounded through the house! By
Jove! I could fancy I hear them now."
"Where?" Symington cried, coming in and shutting the door, which he held
with his hand behind him, as if to bar all possible comers. And then the
two men looked at each other, both breathless and pale.
"Sit down," said Underwood. "The house feels chilly and dreary, nobody
living in it for so long. Have a glass of wine. One wants company in a
damp, dreary old hole like this."
"You are very kind, captain," said the old man; "but Auchnasheen, though
only my lord's shooting-box, is a modern mansion, and full of every
convenience. It would ill become me to raise an ill name on it."
"I wonder what Erradeen's about?" said the captain. "I bet he's worse
off than we are. How he must wish he was off with me on the other side
of the Channel."
"Captain! you will, maybe, think little of me, being nothing but a
servant; but it is little good you do my young lord on the ither side of
the Channel."
Underwood laughed, but not with his usual vigour.
"What can I do with your young lord," he said. "He takes the bit in his
teeth, and goes--to the devil his own way."
"Captain, there are some that think the like of you sore to blame."
Underwood said nothing for a moment. When he spoke there was a quiver in
his voice.
"Let me see the way to my room, Symington. Oh yes, I suppose it is the
old room; but I've forgotten. I was there before? well, so I suppose;
but I have forgotten. Take the candle as I tell you, and show me the
way."
He had not the least idea what he feared, and he did not remember ever
having feared anything before; but to-night he hung close to Symington,
following at his very heels. The old man was anxious and alarmed, but
not in this ignoble way. He deposited the captain in his room with
composure, who would but for very shame have implored him to stay. And
then his footsteps sounded through the vacant house, going further and
further off till they died away in the distance. Captain Underwood
locked his door, though he felt it was a vain precaution, and hastened
to hide his head under the bed-clothes: but he was well aware that this
was a vain precaution too.