THE MASTER OF ABERFELDIE
BY
JAMES GRANT
AUTHOR OF
"THE ROMANCE OF WAR," "THE CAMERONIANS,"
"THE SCOTTISH CAVALIER,"
ETC., ETC.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,
13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1884.
_All rights reserved._
Contents
Chapter
I. Mystery
II. A Modern Use for a Mediæval Institution
III. Holcroft Departs
IV. Suspense
V. The Oubliette
VI. Cead Mille Maloch!
VII. Lovers
VIII. At Maviswood
IX. 'Alice!'
X. 'The Mysteries of Udolpho.'
XI. 'Gup,' and What Came of It
XII. Olive's Visitor
XIII. Wedded
XIV. Mistrust
XV. The Black Watch
XVI. In the Belvidere
XVII. The Route
XVIII. 'Idiots only will be Cozened Twice.'
XIX. In the Land of the Pharaohs
XX. The March through Goshen
THE MASTER OF ABERFELDIE.
CHAPTER I.
MYSTERY.
So all the guests had quitted Dundargue now but Hawke Holcroft. In
two days he was to depart for what he called 'his chambers in town;'
thus Allan was compelled to continue his polite dissimulation, and be
on suave and apparently easy terms with him as a guest, though the
latter felt that there was an undefinable change in his manner
towards him.
Indeed, it was only by a great effort of self-control that the Master
of Aberfeldie, a man with the highest and keenest sense of honour,
and knowing all he did, continued to treat Holcroft with politeness;
but he writhed and shivered when he heard him, in the drawing-room or
elsewhere, address Olive or Eveline.
All the forenoon after Cameron's departure, when poor little Eveline
was most triste and miserable, our other pair of lovers were very
happy. They had what they were pleased to call 'a picnic' on the
tower-head of Dundargue. Allan's portion thereof was cigars, and
Olive's a little basket of purple grapes and luscious strawberries
(though the season was autumn) from the hothouses.
So with these two, the hours passed sweetly and swiftly, with the
blue sky overhead, while far away in the distance, and steeped in
sunny haze, stretched the lovely Carse of Gowrie; and talking of
themselves, their past folly, their present joy, and the brilliant
future that was to come, they billed and cooed after the fashion of
all lovers since flowers grew in Eden.
Allan lolled at length on the stone bartizan of the tower whence
molten lead and arrows had more than once been launched on a foe
beneath, Olive with her fair head reclined against his shoulder
toying with her fruit, while he did so with her silky hair, or kissed
her lips and hands, and called her all manner of funny and endearing
names that would look rather odd in print; and yet amid their present
happiness it was strange that each wondered more than once, if
coldness or estrangement would ever come between them again.
Never--oh, never.
'You complained that the gardeners saw me kissing you in the rosery
yesterday, Olive,' said Allan. 'Now, little woman, who should I kiss
if I don't kiss you? Well, only the crows overhead can see us up
here, at all events.'
But now as he toyed with her hands, marvelling as he did so at their
whiteness and beauty, and anon played with the bangles that encircled
her rounded arms, he bethought of the one worn--yes, actually
worn--by Holcroft, and silently he resolved to possess himself of it
without delay; so, ere the bell rang for luncheon, he made an excuse,
conducted his cousin, with many a pause and long delay which were not
idly spent, down the dark and winding staircase from the head of the
tower.
In his new-found happiness until now he had forgotten all about the
bangle, which--perhaps for some ulterior purpose of his own--Holcroft
seemed to have quietly appropriated, and by whom he wished it
returned without any fuss or explanation.
To this end he sought that personage after luncheon was over, and was
sure he would find him either practising strokes in the
billiard-room, in the smoking-room, or stables, watching the horses
and catching hints from the grooms.
He found him in the first-named place, cue in hand.
'Ready for a game?' said he.
'No, thanks.'
'Sorry; Cameron, and everyone is gone. I'm reduced to playing the
right hand against the left.'
'And while playing I perceive that you have a gold bangle of Miss
Raymond's on your left wrist?'
'Yes,' replied Holcroft, leisurely--Allan thought impertinently.
'Did she give it to you?'
'Why do you ask?'
'_Did_ she give it to you?' repeated Allan, with a dangerous gleam in
his dark eyes.
'No.'
'How comes it to be there, then?'
'Don't take to high falutin. I slipped it on in mere fun, and it
will not come off again.
'Indeed! allow me.'
And Allan, in a moment, by twisting the ductile Indian gold, wrenched
it off, and Holcroft's eyes had a malevolent flash in them as he
stooped to strike a ball.
'Thanks,' said Allan, pocketing the bangle. 'Now we shall have a
cigar.'
For a moment he felt a little ashamed of his sudden irritation, and
proffered his cigar-case to Holcroft, who smiled his thanks and
accepted a Havana.
The Master was younger and handsomer than he; the heir to an ancient
title and estate; he had the envied prestige of having borne himself
bravely when under fire with the Black Watch, and had a goodly crop
of medals--not so many as my Lord Wolseley, of course--but still,
when in uniform, a goodly display.
He had all the advantages over Hawke Holcroft that one man could have
over another; and in his heart of hearts the other hated--yea, with a
bitter and deadly hate--Allan Graham--a hate beyond his love, real or
supposed, for Olive Raymond, natheless all Olive's beauty and her
money--his chief lure and incentive.
While conversing and joking together in the smoking-room, or on the
terrace, amid the pleasures of the table, knocking the balls about at
billiards or so forth, how little could the unconscious Allan have
dreamed that his father's guest--the son of his old friend--had been
pondering over the art of 'Killing no murder;' of accidents brought
about in the hunting-field, at cover shooting, or hill-climbing; even
of dynamite cigars! Had he not heard of such things at Monaco,
Homburg, and elsewhere.
He knew that there was quite a manufactory of such cigars at
Temeswar, in Austria; but wherever were such pleasant gifts 'to be
obtained in an out-of-the-way hole like the Carse of Gowrie?'
His teeth under his moustache glittered or glistened whitely when
such ideas occurred to him; though he chatted away with perhaps
forced _insouciance_ and gaiety, under all his assumed ease of manner
there smouldered a lava-like glow--mingled hate of Allan and coveting
of Olive, but with an emotion of a much coarser nature, combined with
greed.
Seeing Clairette, Olive's maid, passing, Allan made up the bangle in
a little packet as he still wished no more explanations on the
subject, and desired her to give it to her mistress.
'You and Miss Raymond seem exceedingly good friends now,' said
Holcroft.
'We were never otherwise,' replied Allan, curtly, and displeased by
the remark.
'What a prize in matrimony such a girl must be, with so much beauty
and--wealth.'
'It is sometimes a misfortune for a girl to be rich, or to be thought
so,' said Allan.
'Why?'
'Because she may become the prey of some needy fortune-hunter or
enterprising scamp.'
Holcroft winced at the reply, though it was made casually and without
the least design by Allan.
'But in marrying, Miss Raymond might perhaps be poor enough.'
'What paradox is this?' asked Holcroft, thoroughly interested, while
Allan felt some disdain at discussing such matters with such a man.
'Yes, poor as a church mouse, unless--'
'Unless what?'
'She marries _me_,' replied Allan, who, with perhaps pardonable
pique, only thought of provoking a man who had tried to rival him,
and whom he deemed a needy and adventurous gambler.
This seemed only to corroborate what Holcroft had heard before, and
gave him some occasion for thought.
'I have heard rumours of a family compact--a most fortunate one for
you,' said he, smiling; 'but suppose you--excuse me for saying
so--were to predecease her?'
'Then my pretty cousin would be a free woman; but I don't mean to die
yet awhile. Let us take a turn before dinner,' he added, to change
the conversation he had no desire to continue.
'Where?'
'Anywhere you like; but, as the evening has become chill, suppose we
smoke our cigars in the picture-gallery?'
'All right, I am your man.'
Had Allan looked at Hawke Holcroft just then he might have perceived
a lurid gleam in his stealthy eyes, and how his hands were clenched
till the nails of his fingers bruised the palms thereof.
Olive received her bangle, and though startled by the abruptness with
which it was returned, without message or explanation from Allan, as
Clairette told her, she thought less of the circumstance then than
she did a day or two after.
Dinner was announced; Holcroft appeared in accurate evening dress as
usual, and, after waiting a few minutes for Allan who did not appear,
the meal was proceeded with in the slow fashion peculiar to
Dundargue, though only five were seated at table.
Ere dessert came, Lady Aberfeldie dispatched a servant to Allan's
room in search of him. He was not there, though his evening dress
was laid out as usual.
'Where can he be? Where can he have gone?' were the queries on all
hands, which, as night began to draw on without his appearing, took
the form of alarm, 'and what can have happened?'
'Did Allan drop hints of going anywhere?' asked Lord Aberfeldie.
All answered 'No.'
'It is most mysterious.'
Still more mysterious did it appear when the night, passed without
his being seen, and when his place was still vacant at the
breakfast-table next day. Lord Aberfeldie was in dire perplexity;
the ladies were pale and already betook themselves to tears.
'If Allan has left the house as suddenly as he did before, he has
taken neither clothes nor portmanteau with him, as Tappleton assures
me; so what can it mean?' exclaimed Lord Aberfeldie.
A gun was missing from the gun-room. Could Allan have gone to shoot
with Logan at Loganlee? But Olive deemed it impossible that he would
do so without consulting her, and on looking at Holcroft she thought
he looked rather hot and disturbed.
'The bangle, the bangle!' thought the girl, with sudden terror. 'Can
he have gone in a fit of jealousy. Mercy! if it should be so.'
Inquiries proved that Allan had not passed out by the entrance gates,
as the lodge-keeper affirmed, and no trace of footsteps could be
found at any of the private gates to the grounds; and it was soon
discovered that he had not taken a ticket for any place at the
railway station.
What terrible mystery was here?
The family began to look with growing alarm and dismay blankly into
each other's pale faces.
Keepers and gillies, strong, active, and keen-sighted fellows,
Hector, Alister Bain, Angus and Dugal Glas--even old Ronald Gair, the
piper--searched, but in vain, the grounds, plantations, even the
adjacent hills and glens; but not a trace was found of the missing
Allan.
He seemed suddenly to have dropped out of existence.
As this, his last day at Dundargue, drew on, none made himself more
active in searching and riding about the roads than Holcroft, and so
preoccupied were all that no one--even Olive--noticed that his face
was pale and cadaverous--and wore a very disturbed expression, and
that his pale eyes seemed to glare defiantly if anyone looked at him,
while he sedulously kept his _right hand gloved_.
How are we to relate all that really had happened.