COQUETTE LEAVES AIRLIE.
How brightly shone the sun on the welcome morning of their
departure!--when Coquette, as she looked out to catch a glimpse of
the fair blue sea and the distant hills of Arran, could scarce take
time to curb the wildness of her dark hair. Already the open window
let her drink in the fresh morning breeze; she felt the warmth of the
sun on her cheek. Generally, at her toilette, she sang careless
snatches of French songs, or even endeavoured to imitate the Whaup's
whistling of a Highland reel; but on this morning she was far too
excited for any such amusements. The face that had been getting
tired and wan of late was now flushed with happiness; and when at
last she came running down-stairs, and out into the garden--her white
dress fluttering in the sun, and her hair getting rather the better
of the dark blue band interwoven with it--she fairly overwhelmed the
boys with her demonstrations of affection and kindness.
The Whaup's brothers were practical young persons; and, though they
still regarded this foreigner and Catholic as a dangerous
companion--as somebody who had to be approached with caution--they
had discovered, at an early period, that certain gold coins of French
origin could be transformed at Ardrossan into an honest and
respectable mintage. The amount of pocket-money which the reckless
young woman lavished upon her cousins (excepting the Whaup, of
course,) was appalling; nor could the observant Leezibeth make out
whence came all the new pocket-knives, tools, and similar boyish
luxuries which she discovered about the house. The boys themselves
had an uneasy impression that there was something desperately wicked
in having so much money; and, indeed, had many private conversations
among themselves about the specious arguments with which they might
cheat the devil if he happened to put in a claim for them, on account
of extravagance.
"You must all be very good till I come back," she said, now, "for I
am going to bring you all presents. I will buy you--what shall I buy
you?"
The boys began to laugh, but rather in a disappointed way.
"There is but wan thing ye'll get to buy in the Hielands," said
Dougal, "and that's herrin'."
"And too good for you," said the Whaup, coming up, "you greedy young
pigs. If I hear you bargaining about presents any more I'll present
ye with a bottle o' hazel oil, if ye ken what that is. Come along,
Miss Coquette, and get your breakfast, and then show me what luggage
you have. I dare say it's twice as big as I can allow."
"You allow? Are you the master of the luggage?"
"I am--as you'll find out," said he. "I have just taken half the
pile of things that Leezibeth had packed up for my father and shunted
them into a drawer. We don't mean to go to the Sandwich Islands."
"Do we go to the Sandwich Islands?" said Coquette, simply.
"I said we don't mean to go there," repeated the Whaup, with
asperity; "but I suppose you don't know where that is--the French are
so precious ignorant."
"Worse luck," said Coquette, with an expression of sincere penitence
which made the Whaup burst out laughing.
At length, some two hours afterwards, Coquette found herself seated
in the little dog-cart which had brought her to Airlie. A sour man
was Andrew Bogue that day; and sourer was he now. Nor word nor
syllable would he utter; and the more vivacious and talkative
Coquette became--speaking to her uncle, who sat behind, the Whaup
having been sent off on foot--the deeper and sterner became the gloom
of his face. Perhaps he was none the less disposed to predict evil
of this appalling departure from the sober and respectable routine of
the Manse, because of a severe encounter he had had with Leezibeth
that morning. He saw that Leezibeth had now gone wholly over to the
enemy.
When they reached the harbour and saw the shapely vessel lying out at
anchor, with her sails shining in the sun, they perceived that both
the Whaup and Lady Drum had gone on board. Presently, the gig was
put off from the yacht, and in a few minutes Coquette and her uncle
were being pulled out by the four blue-jackets. Lord Earlshope was
at the gangway to receive them.
"Why does he not wear a sailor's uniform?" said Coquette to Mr.
Cassilis, as they drew near. "He does not seem to care about
anything."
When they stepped on board--and Coquette had looked round with wonder
on the whiteness of the deck, and the scrupulous neatness everywhere
visible--Lady Drum came forward, and kissed her, and said,
"My dear child, I hope you know about yachts, for I don't, and I feel
most uncomfortably in the way of everybody."
"Yes, I know a little," said Coquette.
"Why, all you have to do," said Lord Earlshope, coming forward, "is
to sit in the cockpit there--an innovation I introduced for the very
purpose of getting ladies out of the way during a race. You need
have no fear of getting hit on the head by the boom, or of being
washed overboard either; and if a wave _should_ come over the
stern----"
"I hope there will be nothing of the kind," said Lady Drum, looking
indignantly out towards the sea.
The prospect there was sufficiently reassuring. There was a light
breeze from the south-west which was just enough to ruffle the water
and make it of a darker blue. Overhead the sky was clear and calm;
and the peaks of Arran were faint and aerial in the mid-day mist.
Everything promised a pleasant run up to Loch Fyne, if only the wind
would last.
While the men were getting the vessel under weigh, Lord Earlshope's
visitors went down below; and if Coquette had been pleased with the
prettiness of the yacht above, she was now charmed with the
decorations of the state-rooms and saloon. The transparent flowers
painted on the skylights--the ornamentation and gilding of what she
profanely called the walls--the innumerable little arrangements for
comfort--all these were matter for praise; but the climax of her
delight was found in a small harmonium which was placed in the saloon.
"I should have got a piano for you," said Lord Earlshope--making no
secret of his having studied her pleasure in the matter--"but they
don't stand the sea so well. Now, Lady Drum, will you take Miss
Cassilis into your cabin; and when you have made yourselves
thoroughly at home--and got out some wrappers for the sea breezes,
you know--you will find luncheon awaiting you here. Mr. Cassilis,
you will take a glass of sherry, won't you? You will always find it
_there_. Mr. Tom, do you shoot?"
"I should think so!" said the Whaup, who had apparently forgotten his
sentiments of antagonism to Lord Earlshope.
"I thought you would. You will find my breech-loader in your cabin;
and the steward will give you cartridges if you ask him. Now I must
go on deck."
"I never thought he had so much snap in him," said the Whaup
familiarly to his father.
"So much what?" said the Minister, severely.
"Why, life--energy. I thought he was rather a muff--with his white
fingers, and his lazy lounge and that. But he's not as bad a fellow
as people say."
"Lord Earlshope would be pleased to know that you approve of him,"
said his father; but the Whaup lost the sarcasm, for he had already
run up the companion, to see what was going on above. His father,
following, found that the Whaup had clambered half-way up the
ratlines, to get a view of the surrounding scenery as the yacht stood
out to sea.
When, some little time thereafter, the steward's bell called upon
Lady Drum and Coquette to come forth from their cabin, the latter was
heard to say--
"Why don't we start, then? I do not like to remain in harbour."
But the moment she entered the saloon and saw the table slightly
heeling over, she said--
"We are at sea?"
"Yes," said Lord Earlshope; "and missing a pretty part of the coast.
So you ought to hasten your luncheon."
"But what is the matter with the table?" said Lady Drum, making an
effort to put it at right angles to herself. Coquette screamed, and
caught her hand.
"If you put it straight," said Lord Earlshope, laughing, "you will
see everything fly to the ground." It was days, indeed, before Lady
Drum could believe that this tumbling table was secure; and many a
time she had to check herself from instinctively "putting it
straight."
Pleasant, indeed, on that bright and quiet afternoon was their run up
the broad channel between Bute and Arran. Far away the coast of
Ayrshire, which they had left, became paler and more pale; while on
before them successive bays opened out, with silent hills overlooking
them, and here and there the white glimmer of a sea bird in their
shadows. Down in the south, the mountains that rise from the lonely
Loch Ranza had caught some clouds about their peaks, and were dark
and sombre, as the mountains of Arran generally are; but all in front
of them--the smooth slopes of Bute and Inch Marnoch, the craggy
wonders of the Kyles, the still shores of Cowal and Cantire--lay
steeped in a soft autumnal haze, with the rich colours of heather and
fern only half glimmering through the silver veil. It was like a
voyage into dreamland--so beautiful was the land and sea and sky
around them--and so still.
Such was the manner of their setting out. And in the evening they
drew near the little harbour of Tarbert; and all the west was aglow
as if with fire. Even after they had dropped anchor, and the
mountains of Cowal were black as night, there was a wan glare over
the sky and out on the broad bosom of the loch. Then through the
pallor of the twilight came the stars, growing and burning in the
darkness, until Coquette thought they seemed just above the points of
the tall masts. She still lingered on deck, when all the others had
gone below. The sails were down, lights run up, and through the
skylights of the saloon came a dull yellow glow, and a sound of
voices which spoke of a comfortable and happy party beneath. Why was
it that she was so sad? She had had her heart's wish; she was
setting out on the longed-for excursion; yet here she was alone in
the stern of the boat, looking up to the throbbing wonders of the
heavens, or down into the starry plain of the sea, and feeling
strangely isolated and miserable.
Lord Earlshope came in search of her.
"Why do you remain here alone?" he said.
"I do not know," said Coquette, rising wearily.
"They want you down below."
"I will go down; but it is very beautiful up here. I have never seen
the stars so near. They seem to be almost touching the top of the
hill there."
"You will have many opportunities of admiring the magical sunsets and
the clear nights of these high latitudes. You may make the cruise as
long as you please, you know."
"But you do not go with us?" she asked, with some little
embarrassment.
"For a day or two, to give you a start. Unless I am found to be so
useful that you all ask me to stay."
"Perhaps, then, you will come all the way with us?" said Coquette,
somewhat too eagerly.
"Perhaps I may."
Coquette went down into the cabin then; and everybody was struck
during the evening by her extreme amiability and cheerfulness. She
quite won the heart of Lady Drum; who said that the effects of the
sea air on the young lady were surprising and gratifying, and needed
only to be supplemented by a little gentian.