THE TWO FINELLAS.
Next day, when the grouse-shooting had been in progress for an hour
or two, a mishap occurred to Hammersley. He twisted his ankle in a
turnip-field, fell heavily on one side, and staggered up too lame to
take further share in the sport for that day at least.
'When Finella comes with the lunch in the pony-phaeton, she will
drive you home,' said Lord Fettercairn, who then desired one of the
beaters to give Hammersley the assistance of an arm to the well,
where the repast was to be laid out as before.
When Shafto saw his rival limping he was delighted, and thought,
'This will mar his waltzing for a time at least;' but he was less
delighted when he heard of Lord Fettercairn's natural suggestion.
'It is likely a cunning dodge,' was his next thought, 'to get a quiet
drive with her to Craigengowan.'
And Finella's look and exclamation of alarm and interest were not
lost upon him when she arrived and found Hammersley seated on the
grass by the side of the well, and saw the difficulty with which he
rose to greet her, propping himself upon his unloaded gun as he did
so; and soft, indeed, was the blush of pleasure that crossed her
delicate face when she heard of 'grandpapa's arrangement;' and
certainly it met, secretly, with the entire approbation of
Hammersley, who anticipated with delight the drive home with such a
companion.
After a time the luncheon--though skilfully protracted by Shafto--was
over, and Finella and her 'patient' were together in the phaeton, and
she, with a smile and farewell bow, whipped up her petted ponies,
Flirt and Fairy, whom every day she fed with apples and carrots.
Shafto thought jealously and sulkily that she was in great haste to
be gone; but more sulky would he have been had he seen, or known that
when once an angle of the glen was reached where the road dipped out
of sight, the ponies were permitted to go at their own pace, which
ere long dwindled into a walk, till they passed the vast ruined
castle of Fettercairn. Finella and Hammersley were, however, if very
happy, very silent, though both enjoyed the drive in the bright
sunshine amid such beautiful scenery, and he quite forgot his petty
misfortune in contemplating the delicate profile and long drooping
eyelashes of the girl who sat beside him, and who, with a fluttering
heart, was perhaps expecting the avowal that trembled on his lips,
especially when he placed his hand on hers, in pretence of guiding
the ponies, which broke into a rapid trot as the lodge gates were
passed; and glorious as the opportunity accorded him had been,
Hammersley's heart, while burning with passionate ardour, seemed to
have lost all courage, for he had a sincere dread of Lady
Fettercairn, and suspected that her interests were naturally centred
in Shafto.
At seven-and-twenty a man, who has knocked about the world, with a
regiment especially, for some nine years or so, does not fall over
head and ears in love like a rash boy, or without calculating his
chances of general success; and poor Hammersley, though he did not
doubt achieving it with Finella herself, saw deadly rocks and
breakers ahead with her family, and his spirit was a proud one. To
make a declaration was to ruin or lose everything, for if the family
were averse to his suit he must, he knew, quit their roof for ever,
and Finella would be lost to him, for heiresses seldom elope now,
save in novels; and he knew that in her circle the motives for
marriage are more various and questionable than with other and
untitled ranks of life. Rank and money were the chief incentives of
such people as the Melforts of Fettercairn. 'Venal unions,' says an
essayist, 'no doubt occur in the humbler classes, but love is more
frequently the incentive, while with princes and patricians the
conjugal alliance is, in nine instances out of ten, a mere matter of
_expedience_.'
Craigengowan was reached, and not a word of the great secret that
filled his heart had escaped him, for which he cursed his own folly
and timidity when the drive ended, and a groom took the ponies' heads.
Yet the day was not over, nor was a fresh opportunity wanting. Lady
Fettercairn and all her female quests had driven to a flower-show at
the nearest town--even Mrs. Prim was gone, and the house was empty!
Everything in and about Craigengowan seemed conducive to love-talk
and confidences. The great and picturesque house itself was
charming. The old orchards would ere long be heavy with fruit, and
were then a sight to see; on the terrace the peacocks were strutting
to and fro; there were fancy arbours admirably adapted for
flirtation, and a quaint old Scottish garden (with a sun and moon
dial) now gay with all the flowers of August.
On a lounge near an open window facing the latter Hammersley was
reclining, when Finella, after changing her driving dress, came into
the drawing-room, and finely her costume suited her dark and piquante
style of beauty. She wore a cream-coloured silk, profusely trimmed
with filmy lace, and a cluster of scarlet flowers on the left
shoulder among the lace of the collarette that encircled her slender
neck; and Hammersley, as he looked at her, thought that 'beauty
unadorned' was rather a fallacy.
His undisguised expression of admiration as he partly rose to receive
her caused her to colour a little, as she inquired if his hurt was
easier now; but, instead of replying, he said, while venturing
slightly to touch her hand:
'Tell me, Miss Melfort, how you came by your dear pretty name of
Finella? Not from Finella in "Peveril of the Peak"?'
'Ah, I am very unlike her!'
'You are certainly quite as charming!'
'But neither dumb nor pretending to be so,' said the girl, with one
of her silvery little laughs.
'Finella!' said Hammersley, as if to himself, in a low and
unconsciously loving tone; 'whence the name? Is it a family one?'
'Don't you know?' she asked.
'How could I know? I know only that I will never forget it.'
'Of course you could not know. The origin of my name is one of the
oldest legends of the Howe of the Mearns.'
'Howe--that is Scotch for "hollow," I believe.'
'No; "hollow" is the English for _howe_,' replied Finella, laughing,
as she recalled a quip of Boucicault's to the same purpose. 'You saw
the great old castle we passed in our drive home?'
'Yes.'
'Well, I am called Finella from a lady who lived there.'
'After it fell into ruin?'
'No; before it.'
'Then she must have lived a precious long time ago.'
'She certainly did--some--nearly a thousand years ago.'
'What a little quiz you are! Now, Miss Melfort, what joke is this?'
'No joke at all,' said she, quite seriously; 'you can read about it
in our family history--or I shall read it to you in the "Book of
Fettercairn."'
She took from a table near a handsome volume, which her
grandfather--to please whom she was named Finella--had in a spirit of
family vanity prepared for private circulation, and as if to connect
his title with antiquity, prefaced by a story well known in ancient
Scottish history, though little known to the Scots of the present day.
We give it from his Lordship's book verbatim as she read it to Vivian
Hammersley, who--cunning rogue--was not indisposed with such a
charming and sympathetic companion as Finella to make the most of his
fall, and reclined rather luxuriously on the velvet lounge, while
she, seated in a dainty little chair, read on; but he scarcely
listened, so intent was he on watching her sweet face, her white and
perfect ears, her downcast eyelids with their long lashes--her whole
self!
The Melforts, Lords Fettercairn (Strathfinella) and of that Ilk, take
their hereditary title from the old castle of that name, which stands
in the Howe of the Mearns, and is sometimes called the Castle of
Finella. It is situated on an eminence, and is now surrounded on
three sides by a morass. It is enclosed within an inner and an outer
wall of oblong form, and occupying half an acre of ground. The inner
is composed of vitrified matter, but no lime has been used in its
construction. The walls are a congeries of small stones cemented
together by some molten matter, now harder than the stones
themselves; and the remarkable event for which this castle is
celebrated in history is the following:
When Kenneth III., a wise and valiant king (who defeated the Danes at
the battle of Luncarty, and created on that field the Hays, Earls of
Errol, Hereditary Constables of Scotland, and leaders of the Feudal
cavalry, thus originating also the noble families of Tweeddale and
Kinnoull), was on the throne, his favourite residence was the castle
of Kincardine, the ruins of which still remain about a mile eastward
of the village of Fettercairn, and from thence he went periodically
to pay his devotions at the shrine of St. Palladius, Apostle of the
Scots, to whom the latter had been sent by Pope Celestine in the
sixth century to oppose the Pelagian heresy, and whose bones at
Fordoun were enclosed in a shrine of gold and precious stones in 1409
by the Bishop of St. Andrews.
The king had excited the deadly hatred of Finella, the Lady of
Fettercairn, daughter of the Earl of Angus, by having justly put to
death her son, who was a traitor and had rebelled against him in
Lochaber; and, with the intention of being revenged, she prepared at
Fettercairn a singular engine or 'infernal machine,' with which to
slay the king.
This engine consisted of a brass statue, which shot out arrows when a
golden apple was taken from its hand.
Kenneth was at Kincardine, engaged in hunting the deer, wolf, the
badger and the boar, when she treacherously invited him to her castle
of Fettercairn, which was then, as Buchanan records, 'pleasant with
shady groves and piles of curious buildings,' of which there remained
no vestiges when he wrote in the days of James VI.; and thither the
king rode, clad in a rich scarlet mantle, white tunic, an eagle's
wing in his helmet, and on its crest a glittering _clach-bhuai_, or
stone of power, one of the three now in the Scottish regalia.
Dissembling her hate, she entertained the king very splendidly, and
after dinner conducted him out to view the beauties of the place and
the structure of her castle; and Kenneth, pleased with her beauty
(which her raiment enhanced), for she wore a dress of blue silk,
without sleeves, a mantle of fine linen, fastened by a brooch of
silver, and all her golden hair floating on her shoulders,
accompanied her into a tower, where, in an upper apartment, and amid
rich festooned arras and 'curious sculptures' stood the infernal
machine.
She courteously and smilingly requested the king to take the golden
apple from the right hand of the statue; and he, amazed by the
strange conceit, did so; on this a rushing sound was heard within it
as a string or cord gave way, and from its mouth there came forth two
barbed arrows which mortally wounded him, and he fell at her feet.
Finella fled to Den Finella, and Kenneth was found by his retinue
'_bullerand in his blude_.'
Den Finella, says a writer, is said, in the genuine spirit of
legendary lore, to have obtained its name from this princess, who,
the more readily to evade her pursuers, stepped from the branches of
one tree to those of another the whole way from her castle to this
den, which is near the sea, in the parish of St. Cyres, as all the
country then was a wild forest.
Buchanan deems all this story a fable, though asserted by John Major
and Hector Boece, and thinks it more probable that the king was slain
near Fettercairn in an ambush prepared by Finella.
So ended the legend.
As the girl read on, Vivian Hammersley had bent lower and lower over
her, till the tip of his moustache nearly touched her rich dark hair,
and his arm all but stole round her. Finella Melfort was quite
conscious of this close proximity, and though she did not shrink from
it, that consciousness made her colour deepen and her sweet voice
become unsteady.
'That is the story of Finella of Fettercairn,' said she, closing the
book.
'And to this awful legend of the dark ages, which only wants
blue-fire, lime-light, and a musical accompaniment to set it off, you
owe your name?' said he, laughingly.
'Yes--it was grandfather's whim.'
'It is odd that you--the belle of the last London season, should be
named after such a grotesque old termagant!'
She looked up at him smilingly, and then, as their eyes met, the
expression of that glance exchanged beside the well on the hills came
into them again; heart spoke to heart; he bent his face nearer hers,
and his arm went round her in earnest.
'Finella, my darling!' escaped him, and as he kissed her unresisting
lips, her blushing face was hidden on his shoulder.
And _this_ tableau was the result of the two days' shooting--a sudden
result which neither Shafto nor Hammersley had quite foreseen.
Of how long they remained thus neither had any idea. Time seemed to
stand still with them. Finella was only conscious of his hand
caressing hers, which lay so willingly in his tender, yet firm, clasp.
Hammersley in the gush of his joy felt oblivious of all the world.
He could think of nothing but Finella, while the latter seemed
scarcely capable of reflection at all beyond the existing thought
that he loved her, and though the avowal was a silent and unuttered
one, the new sense of all it admitted and involved, seemed to
overwhelm the girl; her brightest day-dreams had come, and she
nestled, trembling and silent, by his side.
The unwelcome sound of voices and also of carriage-wheels on the
terrace roused them. He released her hand, stole one more clinging
kiss, and forgetful of his fall and all about it started with
impatience to his feet.
Lady Fettercairn and her lady guests had returned from the
flower-show, and to avoid them and all the world, for a little time
yet, the lovers, with their hearts still beating too wildly to come
down to commonplace, tacitly wandered hand in hand into the recesses
of a conservatory, and lingered there amid the warm, flower-scented
atmosphere and shaded aisles, in what seemed a delicious dream.
Finella was conscious that Vivian Hammersley was talking to her
lovingly and caressingly, in a low and tender voice as he had never
talked before, and she felt that she was 'Finella'--the dearest and
sweetest name in the world to him--and no more Miss Melfort.
* * * *
It would be difficult, and superfluous perhaps, to describe the
emotions of these two during the next few days.
Though now quite aware that Finella and Hammersley had met each other
frequently before, Shafto's surprise at their intimacy, though
apparently undemonstrative, grew speedily into suspicious anger. He
felt intuitively that _his_ presence made not the slightest
difference to them, though he did not forget it; and he failed to
understand how 'this fellow' had so quickly gained his subtle and
familiar position with Finella.'
It galled him to the quick to see and feel all this, and know that he
could never please her as she seemed to be pleased with Hammersley;
for her colour heightened, her eyes brightened, and her eyelashes
drooped and flickered whenever he approached or addressed her.
Shafto thought of his hopes of gaining Finella and her fortune
against any discovery that might be made of the falsehood of his
position, and so wrath and hatred gathered in his heart together.
He was baffled at times by her bright smiles and pretty, irresistible
manner, but nevertheless he 'put his brains in steep' to scheme again.