A DANGEROUS ADVENTURE.
"What is the matter with you?" said the Whaup to Coquette. "For a
few minutes you are alive, and in the world; and the next minute you
are staring over there at the sea, as if you could look through the
Arran hills, and find something miles and miles away on the other
side.".
Coquette started, and recalled herself; but there was no tinge of
embarrassment on the pale, clear, foreign face. She said--
"I was thinking whether your papa would let us go with Lady Drum."
"Then he has not promised to go?" said the Whaup sharply.
The dark eyes of Coquette began to look afraid.
"It is a strange thing," said the Whaup, "that women will not tell
you all the truth at once. They must keep back things, and make
mysteries, and try to deceive you. Why didn't you say to me--'There
is a talk of our going a trip in Earlshope's yacht. Will you come,
if we are allowed to go?'--instead of hinting that you were all fixed
on going, and I might as well join you? Well, there, I am not going
to say another word. You can't help it. You are only a woman."
"And you are only a boy," she said, looking up to the tall, handsome
lad beside her,--"very kind, and very generous, and very stupid."
"I am older than you, at least," said the Whaup, who did not like
being called a boy. "And, if it was any use, I'd give you the advice
to drop these little tricks, and be honest."
"If my honesty were equal to your rudeness, I should please you,"
said Coquette, with a smile. She was disinclined just then to take
umbrage.
"It will be a bold thing for my father to go away anywhere in the
company of Lord Earlshope," observed the Whaup. "It will be only his
regard for your health that will force him."
"Why?" said Coquette, with a touch of asperity.
"Well, you know the reputation he has in the parish," remarked the
Whaup, coolly. "Perhaps everybody is wrong; but, at all events,
Earlshope gives them every reason to think ill of him. He never
comes to church; he walks about on Sundays with his dogs; or else he
reads novels, and smokes cigars. If I go with you, it is not to be
friends with him; it is to protect you. Do you know, either he is
mad or one of these novels has turned his head; for he has got a
place built at the end of the grounds like a wizard's cave, with
trickling water running over a lot of rocks; and he sits there at
night to read, and in the rocks he has blue lights, that make the
place look as if it was haunted."
"That is stuff and humbug," said Coquette.
"What did you say?"
"I do mean it is nonsense, if that is better. It is an old woman's
story of the village--it is a fable--it is foolish."
"Very well, very well," said the Whaup. "But if you have the courage
to slip out of the house to-night when it is dark, and run all the
way there, I will take you in by an opening that I know, and show you
the place."
"Suppose he were there?" said Coquette.
"No fear. The nights are getting too cold. Will you go?"
"Perhaps," said Coquette.
By this time they had arrived at the spot of the moor where the Whaup
had discovered the bees' nest. He pointed out to his companion a
small hole in a piece of mossy ground which was not covered by the
heather; and as she looked at it, a large humble-bee came crawling
out, paused for a second, and then flew away with a low buzzing noise
into the distance. The Whaup threw off his jacket, and took his
spade in hand.
"Here," said he to Coquette, "protect yourself with this branch.
Knock them down when they come near you."
"Why?" she said. "They will not harm me--I am not harming them."
"That may be the case wi' bees in France," observed the Whaup,
disdainfully, "where they've got fine manners; but ye'll find Scotch
bees are different."
So he ordered one of the boys to stand by Coquette and beat down any
bees that might come her way; threatening him with pains and
penalties dire if one should touch her. Then he struck the spade
into the ground near the entrance to the nest, and raised a large
"divot." The channel to the subterranean caves was now laid bare;
and one or two bees that had been coming up were seen extricating
themselves from the loose earth. These Dougal straightway laid hold
of, by means of his handkerchief, and popped them into a large paper
bag which he held.
"What for you put them in a bag?" said Coquette; at which all the
boys burst out laughing. But they did not tell her the secret.
The excitement of this work of destruction now began. Out came the
bees in dozens, buzzing up from the ruddy earth only to be struck
down by great branches of alder borne by the boys; while the intrepid
Dougal, with his face and hands quite unguarded, stood over the hole,
and picked up whichever of them looked only stunned. It was a
dangerous occupation; for those inside the bag which had partially
recovered began to hum their discontent, and tried to escape by the
small opening which admitted their companions in misfortune.
Sometimes, indeed, the other boys assisted, although they had
sufficient occupation for themselves in beating back the winged host
that flew round and round their ears.
Suddenly Wattie uttered a loud shriek, and set off running as hard as
he could. His companions perceived to their dismay that about twenty
or thirty bees had clustered round his head, and were now following
him, and hovering over him as he ran.
"He's got the queen bee on his bonnet," said the Whaup. "Throw down
your bonnet--ye idiot!--throw down your bonnet!"
Wattie was still within hearing, and had sufficient nerve left him to
do as he was bid. He snatched at his cap, pitched it on the heather,
and again made off; but it was soon apparent that he was out of
danger. The bees had lit upon the cap; and from a safe distance he
stood and regarded it with rather a rueful countenance.
The issue of bees had ceased. The boys laid down their branches, and
began to dig out with their fingers, from among the red and sandy
earth, the small brown combs of honey, which were speedily
transferred, sand and all, to their mouth. The Whaup, of course,
would not condescend to such vulgar and childish practices; but he
produced a pen-knife, and extracted some honey from one of the combs,
which Coquette was pleased to taste.
"What for you have bees in the bag?" said Coquette, as they prepared
to go home--a simultaneous charge of branches having cleared Wattie's
cap.
"I told you," said the Whaup, "there was a deed of vengeance to be
done. In the stable there is a bag of corn, which Andrew opens twice
a day to get some for the pony. We are going to put the bees in the
bag--I suppose there's near a hundred of them. When Andrew plunges
his hand into the bag----"
"O you wicked boy!" cried Coquette.
"You are the cause of it," said the Whaup.
"I?"
"I heard him calling ye all sorts o' names out of the Bible--Satan
quoting Scripture, you see--and I have warned him before; and now
he'll get it."
"The bees, they will kill him," said Coquette.
"So much the better," retorted the Whaup; "he is a nuisance."
"But what is that on your hand--that is a sting, is it not?" she
said, looking at a considerable swelling, which was visible on the
Whaup's forefinger.
"Oh, one sting is nothing," he said, carelessly, "unless it's a wasp
or a hornet. Did you ever burn out a nest of hornets? If you
haven't, don't try."
"No," said Coquette, simply, "I'm not such a gowk."
"Well, that is pretty English!" observed the Whaup, with a stare.
"Isn't it right? I did hear you say it yesterday," remarked
Coquette, without any notion that she was turning the tables on her
critic.
So they drew near home again; and the Whaup fancied a shade came over
his companion's face as they approached the Manse. Perhaps it was
the dull, grey day, which made the old-fashioned little place look
dull and solitary--that made the moor look unusually bleak, and the
long stretch of country sombre and sad.
"I hope you are not tired," said the Whaup.
"Tired? No," she said, with a certain languor. "Do you think your
papa will take us away from here for a little while?"
"How you harp on that yacht!" rejoined the Whaup, good-naturedly. "I
must go and persuade my father on your behalf, I think."
"Will you do that?" she said, with eagerness.
"Yes," he said, "and just now. Isn't he there in the garden? I hear
him talking. Oh, it is the Schoolmaster, who is delivering a
lecture. Now, I will wager he is talking about you."
"About me?"
"Yes; don't you know you are a dangerous character to the whole
village?"
"I should like to know what he says about me," said Coquette,
proudly, advancing towards the wall which surrounded the garden.
"But not that way," said the Whaup, taking her hand and leading her
off. "If you wish to know, you mustn't hide and listen--although I
suppose that is a woman's way. You go into the Manse--I will go into
the garden and bring you word what the new ground of complaint is."
Leaving Coquette, therefore, the Whaup went round the house, and
boldly walked up to the place where Mr. Gillespie and the Minister
stood together.
"It is Earlshope who is catching it this time," said the Whaup to
himself, overhearing the name.
His father looked with some surprise on the approach of his eldest
son--who had rather a pugnacious look on his face, by the way; but
the Schoolmaster was too intent upon his choice phrases to heed.
"... than which, sir, nothing could be more deplorable, or
mortifying, as I may say," observed Mr. Gillespie. "But I would give
every man the due of his actions; for, although works are not in
themselves saving, they may be a sign--or, as some would term it, a
symptom--of the presence o' grace, even among the Gentiles who know
not the law, yet do the things that are written or inscribed in the
law."
"Yes, yes, Mr. Gillespie!" said the Minister, with an impatient
twitch at his bunch of seals: "but ye said ye had come to tell me----"
"Yes, sir, to inform ye of a circumstance which deserves, or is
entitled to, some remark. I have been made the means--or, I may say,
the humble instrument--of conveying to the people of this parish no
less a sum than one hundred pounds sterling, to be expended, sir, as
those who have authority among us may direct, for the good--or
benefit--of such as are--such as are--such as are, in fact, here.
Ware it--or as I ought to say--expend it as we best may on the
educational or worldly wants of the parish, it is all the same; and
while I would observe, sir, that the money cannot heighten in value
the services which you give--or rather render to this parish--it
being your duty, as I may express it, to expound the prophecies and
dig up spiritual gold and silver for them that are of Zion, I would
take your advice wi' all humility as to how this sum is to be granted
to, or bestowed upon, the parish."
Mr. Gillespie paused, with the air of a man who had been up to the
occasion. He raised his large spectacles towards the Minister's
face, and proudly awaited the reply.
"Where got ye this money?" said the Minister.
"Sir, from Lord Earlshope--some three days ago, with a letter dated
from some place in the north, in which his lordship was pleased to
say that it was but a whim of his. A noble and a praiseworthy whim,
said I to Mrs. Gillespie, on receiving the money, for his lordship,
according to general report, or, as I might say, rumour, is a poor
man for one in his station; and as I would argue from facts, Mr.
Cassilis, rather than from idle hearsay, I am bold to observe that
there are in this very parish those who would look black at his
Lordship, and yet no bestow a bawbee on the relief o' the poor. I
wouldna, sir, cast--or, in other words, fling--the first stone; and
if some would do as they see Lord Earlshope do, I am thinking, sir,
they would not--they would not do--as--as, in fact, they do do."
Feeling that his eloquence was beginning to halt, the Schoolmaster
pulled out the identical letter and cheque which had effected so
extraordinary a change in his sentiments towards the owner of
Earlshope. These he handed to Mr. Cassilis, who took them and
scanned them with equal surprise and pleasure. The Minister even
hinted that since his lordship was so well-disposed to the parish,
and apparently inclined to make up for past forgetfulness, it would
be unbecoming of the parish not to meet his advances in a similar
friendly spirit.
"Precisely and exactly as I observed to Mrs. Gillespie this morning,
sir, not ten minutes--nay, when I recollect, not above five
minutes--indeed, I am sure three minutes could not have
elapsed--after the reading of the letter, or communication I might
call it, seeing what it holds. And Mrs. Gillespie, sir, made an
observation couched in homely phrase--yet pertaining, or, as I might
say, bearing upon this point. She remarked that the test of a man's
fair words was when he put his hand in his pocket."
"It is sometimes so," said the Minister; adding, with a sly glance at
the Schoolmaster, "perhaps, after all, Mr. Gillespie, when my
parishioners hear of Lord Earlshope's generosity, they will not
wonder at my receiving him at the Manse, nor yet will they object to
his speaking to my niece."
The Schoolmaster looked rather uncomfortable; and the Whaup, behind
his back, performed some derisive and delighted antics of a vulgar
nature.
"I maun e'en take a man as I find him, Mr. Cassilis," said the
Schoolmaster, forgetting his English in the warmth of his
self-defence. "If he alters for the better, what for should I stick
to my old opinion, like a flee to the wa'?"
"Certainly, certainly," said the Minister; "but sometimes it is our
judgment that is mistaken in the first case, and it behoves us to be
cautious and charitable."
"No man ever accused me o' being without charity, in moderation--in
moderation," said the Schoolmaster, with his spectacles glaring
fiercely. "But I am no for that charity that lets ye be led by the
nose. I have my own opeenions--charity is a good thing--a very good
thing--but it needna make a fool o' ye, and make people believe that
ye are as blind as Eli. No, sir, wi' due deference to you, I still
consider Lord Earlshope to be----"
In his excitement the Schoolmaster had unconsciously unfolded the
cheque he held in his hands; and he now suddenly found himself
looking at it. He did not finish the sentence. He waved his hand,
as though to say--"These are bygones; I was right, but it is no
matter; and Lord Earlshope has mended."
"And what do ye propose to do with the money?--not that there will be
any difficulty in finding suitable directions," said the Minister.
"That," replied the Schoolmaster, with grave importance, "is a matter
for serious--and, I may add, patient--consideration, in which, sir, I
would earnestly desire your assistance and advice. In the meantime,
it is but fitting (such is my humble opeenion) that acknowledgment of
his lordship's bounty should be made--and that not in a formal
manner, but in a friendly--a conciliatory manner, as I may say, in
which I will show his lordship that we of this parish recognise,
appreciate, and commend these approaches--or overtures they might, I
think, be properly called, on his part; and who knows, sir, but that
encouragement of this kind might have the effect of stimulating or
exciting his lordship to renew--I may say, in short, to repeat--these
attentions of a generous nature----"
Mr. Gillespie stopped here, not sure whether he had got to the end of
his sentence or not. He then continued--
"I hope, sir, in your capacity of private friend of the young
nobleman, and as public and spiritual overseer of this parish, you
will convey to him our sense of what he has done; and if you could
bring him and the parish closer together----"
"At this present moment, on the contrary," said the Minister, with a
hesitating smile, "Lord Earlshope proposes to carry me away from the
parish. I have received an invite, with some members of my
household, to go on a small voyage in his lordship's yacht, Lady Drum
being the instigator of the project, as I believe."
The spectacles of the Schoolmaster seemed to wax bigger.
"How do you think the parish would receive the proposal?" asked the
Minister, rather timidly.
"I will make it my business to ascertain," replied the Schoolmaster,
with an air of authority. "Nay, further, Mr. Cassilis, I will even
go the length of advising your parishioners to acquiesce. Why, sir,
it is their duty. Lord Earlshope, Mr. Cassilis, is a man to be
encouraged--he must be encouraged."
This was all that was wanted to confirm the Minister's decision. He
had for some time back seen fit to abandon the suspicions that had
been suggested by his meeting Lord Earlshope and Coquette on the
moor; and the only question now was whether Coquette's health would
be greatly benefited by his accepting the invitation.
The Whaup made off at this moment, and went to Coquette.
"You owe Gillespie a good turn for once," said he to her. "The old
fool has persuaded my father to go."