CHAPTER III.--THE BOYS' LIFE IN LONDON.
"Cousin Frank!"
"That's me. And how are you, cousins Conal and Duncan? We're onlyfar-off cousins, but that doesn't matter, does it? I'm jolly glad tosee you, anyhow. You'll bring some life into this dull old hole; andI'll find some fun for you, you bet."
"Did you ask if we betted?" said Duncan, smiling, but serious. "Wewouldn't be allowed to."
"No, no. 'You bet' is just an expression; for, mind you, everybodyspeaks slang nowadays in town. Oh, I don't bet--as a rule, though I didhave a pony on the Oxford and Cambridge last race."
"And did the pony win?" asked Conal, naively.
"Eh? What? Ha, ha, ha! Why, it's a boat race, and a pony is a fiver.I'd saved the cash for a year, and like a fool I blewed it at last."
Well, if Frank Trelawney was not very much to look at as regards body,he was frank and open, with a handsome English face, all too pale,however, and he seemed to have more worldly wisdom in his noddle thanDuncan, Conal, and Viking all put together.
After talking a little longer to our Highland heroes Frank knelt downand threw his arms around the great dog's neck, and Viking condescendedto lick his cheek.
"I'm so glad that old Vike takes to you, Frank," said Duncan. "It isn'teverybody he likes."
"Of course," said Frank, "'old' is merely a term of endearment, asfather would say."
"That's it. He is only a year and six months old, but already there isnothing scarcely that he does not know, in country life, I mean, thoughI suppose he will be rather strange in town for a time."
"Sure to be. But here comes James. Luncheon served, James, eh?"
"Luncheon all ready, Master Frank."
They found the Colonel walking up and down the well-lighted hall smokinga cigarette. He was really a most inveterate smoker. He smoked beforebreakfast, after breakfast, all the forenoon, and all day long. Rolledhis own cigarettes, too, so that his fore and middle fingers wereindelibly stained yellow with the tobacco.
"Horrid habit!" he always told boys, "but I've become a slave to it.Don't you ever smoke."
Though some years over sixty, Trelawney was as straight as a telephonepole, handsome, and soldierly in face and bearing. The only thing thatdetracted from his facial appearance was a slight degree of bagginessbetwixt the lower eyelids and the cheek bones. This was brought on, hisdoctor had told him often and often, by weakness of the heart caused bytobacco and wine. But Trelawney would not punish himself by leavingeither off.
The boys took to Mrs. Trelawney from the very first. She must have beenfully twenty years younger than the Colonel, and had a sweet, evenbeautiful, face, and was altogether winning.
Well, that was a luncheon of what might be called elegant kickshaws,artistically cooked and served, but eminently unsatisfactory from aScotch point of view.
The dinner in the evening was much the same, and really when theseHighland lads got up from the table they almost longed for the honest,"sonsy" fleshpots of Glenvoie.
Walnuts and wine for dessert! But they did not drink wine, and wouldhave preferred a cocoa-nut or two to the walnuts. There would have beensome satisfaction in that.
A private box for the theatre!
"Oh," cried Duncan, "that will be nice!"
"You have often been at the theatre, dear, haven't you?"
This from Mrs. Trelawney, as she placed her very much be-ringed fingerson Conal's shoulder.
"No, auntie," replied Conal; "only just once, with Duncan there. It wasin Glasgow. They were playing 'Rob Roy', and I shall never forget it.Never, never, never!"
But to-night it was a play of quite a different class, a kind of musicalcomedy. Plenty of action and go in it, plenty of the most ordinary andmusicless singing, which pleased the gallery immensely, and frequentspells of idiotic dancing. There were no serious situations at all,however, and no thread of narrative woven into the play.
Moreover, both Scotch boys were placed at a disadvantage owing to theirinability to follow the English patois, which on the whole wasthoroughly Cockney, the letter "R" being dead and buried, and the "H"being silent after a "W", so that the lads did not enjoy themselvesquite as much as they had expected to.
Every now and then the colonel excused himself. He told our heroes hewas going to see a man. That really meant lounging into the buffet tosmoke a cigarette, and moisten a constitutionally dry throat.
A few days after this, however, the colonel, who, by some means or otherknown only to himself, was behind the scenes (virtually speaking) of allthe best theatres, managed to get a box for the Lyceum.
That truly great tragedian, Irving, was playing in "The Bells", and theyoung M'Vaynes were struck dumb with astonishment; they were thrilledand awed with the terrible realism of the grand actor, and when thecurtain fell at last both boys thanked the colonel most heartily.
"That is real acting, a real play!" cried Duncan enthusiastically. "I'msure neither Conal nor I want to sit and listen to Cockney buffooneryafter that."
Dear Mrs. Trelawney, as both boys called her, had evidently made up hermind to give the lads as pleasant a time as possible. Every fine day,and there were now many, she took them all for a drive.
"We sha'n't be back for luncheon, Tree," she always told her husband."You must eat in solitary state and grandeur for one day."
"Indeed," she smilingly informed Duncan, "I don't care much to lunch athome. I like to be free, and not have extreme gentility and servantspottering about behind your chair, and listening to every word you say.I hate the proprieties."
Duncan and Conal both smiled. They felt just that way themselves.
After a drive in the park, Mrs. Trelawney would go shopping, and thosetwo brown-faced, brown-kneed Highland boys created a good deal ofsensation, though they seemed quite unaware of the fact.
Ah! but after the shopping came luncheon. And the colonel's wife knewwhere to go to. A charming hotel, not a million of miles from theThames embankment. And that was a luncheon, too, or, as Frank calledit, a spread!
It was a square meal at all events, and Mrs. Trelawney seemed delightedat seeing the boys thoroughly enjoying it.
"Now you lads must eat, you know, because you've got to grow many, manyinches yet. And this is liberty hall anyhow. Isn't it delightfullyfree and easy?"
It was. This the boys admitted.
The more they were with Mrs. Trelawney the more they liked her. And theyoung M'Vaynes might have said the same of Frank. He was a charmingcompanion. Moreover, he had many accomplishments that his 42nd cousinscould not boast of. He could sing with a sweet girl-voice, and he playedthe violin charmingly, his mother accompanying him on the piano.
She, too, could sing, and in the evenings she often electrified herguests by her renderings of dramatic pieces. Everybody who visited atthe Trelawneys' house knew that the colonel had married a young andbeautiful actress, and that here she was--far more a woman of the world,and a more perfect lady than anyone at her table.
And the boys were a great attraction. They were so outspoken, yet soinnocent, that conversation with them was full of amusement. Theyalways donned their belts and dress tartans for dinner, and were a gooddeal admired. Moreover, they soon got to be asked frequently out todinners, or to dances. These they very much enjoyed.
Well, a whole month passed away, and Duncan and his brother were nowable to endure London and London life, though they never could love it.
Many a long walk did Frank take them. The carriage would drive them asfar as the Strand, then the journey was continued on foot citywards.
Everything here was new--I can't say fresh, for there is precious littlefreshness about London streets--to the Scotch lads. They could havewished, however, that the pavements had been less crowded, that thepeople had been less lazy-looking, and that the vendors of penny wareshad not thrust their unsavoury hands so often right under their noses.
Frank seemed determined to show his 42nd cousins every phase of Londonlife. He even
took them into a corner drink-palace, and there orderedlemonade, just that they might see a little of the dark side of citylife.
They were horrified to behold those gin-sodden men and women, manyleaning almost helplessly against the counter; the patched andsemi-dropsical faces of the females, the maudlin idiotic looks of themales, Duncan thought he never could forget.
He shuddered, and felt relieved when out once more in the crowdedstreets.
One day Frank thought he would give his cousins a special treat, so hetook them to the Zoo.
Both were much interested in beholding the larger wild beasts, the lionsof Africa, the splendid tigers of India, the sulky hippopotami, andill-natured-looking rhinoceroses. But it was a sad sight after all, forthese half-starved-looking beasts were deprived of the freedom of forestand plains, and confined here in filthy dens, all for the pleasure of agaping crowd of ignorant Cockneys.
But when they came upon the birds of prey, and their eyes caught sightof a poor puny specimen of the Scottish eagle, chained to a post, andalmost destitute of feathers, Duncan's heart melted with shame andsorrow, and he turned hurriedly away.
As far as the Zoo was concerned, Frank's best intentions had failed togive his guests pleasure. But they were too polite to say so.
----
Duncan and Conal had now been two months in London, and could understandeven what the street boys said. On the whole they had enjoyed thewonderful sights of this wonderful city, for these really seemedunending.
Then came Christmas.
Christmas and the pantomime.
They enjoyed Drury Lane far more even than the parties or even thedances they were invited to. The scenery and scenes were exquisitelylovely. No dream of fairyland ever equalled these.
The boys gave themselves wholly up to amusement throughout all thefestive season. But to their credit be it said, they did not gorge ongoose, turkey, or pudding as everybody else did.
"No wonder," thought Duncan, "that the Englishman is called John Guttlein many parts of Scotland." For he had never seen such eating ordrinking in his life before.
Then after the festivities of the festive week came dulness anddreariness extreme. The people had spent all their money, andwretchedness abounded on every pavement of the sleet-swept streets ofthe city. Yes, and the misery even overflowed into the west-end suburbs.
It was about this time that Duncan made a discovery.
Frank had told him, frankly enough, that his father was not over-welloff, but it was evident to him now that Colonel Trelawney was simplystruggling to keep up appearances, and that, in all probability, he wasdeeply in debt.
Mrs. Trelawney, or "dear Auntie", as the Scotch lads called her, wasever the same. Nothing seemed to trouble or worry her.
But the colonel at breakfast used to take up his letters, one by one,and eye them with some degree of suspicion before opening them.
The waste-paper basket was close to him, and was wonderfully handy.
"The first application," he would say with a smile as he tore up a billand summarily disposed of the fragments.
"Second application"--that too was torn up.
Letter from a friend--put aside to be read at leisure.
A long blue letter--suspicious--disposed of without reading.
"Ha! Amy, love, here is Sweater & Co.'s fourth letter. Threatens uswith--ah, you know."
"Well, dear," says Mrs. Trelawney with her sweetest smile, "just letthem sweat!"
"Give 'em a bill, I suppose," the colonel says, as if speaking tohimself.
And the letter is put aside.
So one way or another Trelawney got through his pile at last, andsettled down to serious eating, that is, he made a hearty meal from aLondoner's point of view. Then he lit a cigarette.
Well the month of January was raw and disagreeable, and seldom was therea day without a fog either white or yellow.
Is it any wonder that, brought up in a clear transparent atmosphereamong breezes that blew over heathy hills, and were laden with thebalsamic odour of the pine-trees, Duncan and Conal began to languish andlong for home.
With great candour they told "Auntie" they wanted to get home to enjoyskating, tobogganing, and white-hare shooting; and she promised to speakto the colonel.
"We will be so sorry to leave you, auntie, for you've been so good tous."
"And I shall miss you, boys, sadly."
"Yes, I hope so. It will give Conal and me pleasure to think that youlike us. And of course Frank comes with us."
"I fear it is too cold for Frank."
"Oh no, auntie dear. One never feels cold in Scotland, the air is sobracing, you know."
So that very day it was all arranged, and Laird M'Vayne had a letter tothat effect.
The parting was somewhat sorrowful, but the boys did not say "Farewell!"only "_Au revoir_", because both hoped to return, and by that time theydeclared that Frank would be as hardy as--as--well, as hardy asHighlanders usually are.
The last things that the boys bought in London were skates. Of coursethey could have got those in Edinburgh, but not so cheaply, and for thisreason: there did not seem to be the ghost of a chance of any skatingfor the Londoners this season, and so they got the skates for an oldsong.
They went by sea to Edinburgh. The _Queen_ was at present all but acargo-boat, and besides the three lads and Vike, there was only oneother passenger, an old minister of the Church of Scotland.
The same skipper and the same mate, and delighted they were to see theboys again, and they gave Frank a right hearty welcome on their account.
But Frank had that with him which secured him a welcome wherever hewent--his fiddle, and when after dinner he played them some sad andplaintive old Scottish airs, all were delighted, and the minister got upfrom his chair, and, grasping the boy's hand, thanked him mosteffusively.
"Dear lad," he said, "you have brought the moisture to my eyes, althoughI had thought my fountain of tears had dried up many and many a longyear ago."
Now here is something strange; although, when once fairly out of theThames' mouth and at sea, it was blowing a head wind, with waves houseshigh, Frank was not even squeamish. I have seen many cases like this,though I must confess they are somewhat rare.
Nor was the minister ill; but then, like the Scotch boys, he wassea-fast, having done quite a deal of coasting.
"How goes the project you have in view?" asked Duncan that evening ofthe skipper.
"Well," was the reply, "it is not what the French call a _fait accompli_just yet, but it is bound to be so before very long."
"Well, my 42nd cousin Frank here would like to go to sea also. Couldyou do with the three of us?"
"Yes. You must be prepared to rough it a bit, and we'll be rathercramped for room, but we shall manage. Eh, mate?"
"I'm sure we shall, and this young gentleman must take his fiddle."
"And I'll take the bagpipes," said Duncan, laughing.
"Hurrah!" cried the mate. "Won't we astonish the king of the CannibalIslands? Eh?"
It was Frank's turn to cry "Hurrah!"
"But," he added, "will there be real live cannibals, sir?"
"Certainly. What good would dead ones be?"
"And is there a chance of being caught and killed and eaten, and all thelike of that?"
"Ay, though it isn't pleasant to look forward to. Only mind this: I maytell you for your comfort that although, after being knocked on the headwith a nullah, your Highland cousin would be trussed at once and hung upin front of a clear fire until done to a turn, you yourself would bekept alive for weeks. Penned up, you know, like a chicken."
"But why?"
"Oh, they always do that with London boys, because they are generallytoo lean for decent cooking, and need too much basting. You would bepenned up and fattened with rice and bananas."
"Humph!" said Frank, and after a pause of thoughtfulness, "Well, Isuppose there is some consolation in being kept alive a bit; but botherit al
l, I don't half like the idea of being a side dish."
The weather was more favourable during this voyage, and though bitterlycold, all the boys took plenty of exercise on the quarter-deck, and sokept warm. So, too, did the old minister, who was really a jolly fellow,and did not preach at them nor dilate on the follies of youth.Moreover, this son of the Auld Kirk enjoyed a hearty glass of toddybefore turning in.
Leith at last!
And yonder, waiting anxiously on the quay, was Laird M'Vayne himself.
His broad smile grew broader when his boys waved their hands to him, andsoon they were united once again.