‘He can’t come,’ the younger cried. ‘He says he’s seedy again. It may really be smallpox this time.’
‘Who can’t come, and who has smallpox?’ her father demanded.
‘Sir Archibald Roylance. I told you I met him and asked him to lunch here today. We really ought to get to know our nearest neighbour, and he seems a very pleasant young man.’
‘I think he is hiding a dark secret,’ said the elder Miss Raden. ‘Nobody who calls there ever finds him in – except Lady Clay-body, and then he told her he had smallpox. Old Mr Bandicott said he went up the long hill to Crask yesterday, and found nobody at home, though he was perfectly certain he saw one figure slinking into the wood and another moving away from a window. I wonder if Sir Archibald is really all right. We don’t know anything about him, do we?’
‘Of course he’s all right – bound to be – dashed gallant, sporting fellow. Sorry he’s not coming to luncheon – I want to meet him. He’s probably afraid of Nettie, and I don’t blame him, for she’s a brazen hussy, and he does well to be shy of old Bandicott. I’m scared to death by the old fellow myself
‘You know you’ve promised to let him dig in the Piper’s Ring, papa.’
‘I know I have, and I would have promised to let him dig up my lawn to keep him quiet. Never met a man with such a flow of incomprehensible talk. He had the audacity to tell me that I was no more Celtic than he was, but sprung from some blackguard Norse raiders a thousand years back. Judging by the sketch he gave me of their habits, I’d sooner the Radens were descended from Polish Jews.’
‘I thought him a darling,’ said his elder daughter, ‘and with such a beautiful face.’
‘He may be a darling for all I know, but his head is stuffed with maggots. If you admired him so much, why didn’t you take him off my hands? I liked the look of the young fellow and wanted to have a word with him. More by token’ – the Colonel was hunting about for the marmalade – ‘what were you two plotting with him in the corner after dinner?’
‘We were talking about John Macnab.’
The Colonel’s face became wrathful.
‘Then I call it dashed unfilial conduct of you not to have brought me in. There was I, deafened with the old man’s chatter – all about a fellow called Harald Blacktooth or Bottlenose or some such name, that he swears is buried in my grounds and means to dig up – when I might have been having a really fruitful conversation. What was young Bandicott’s notion of John Macnab?’
‘Mr Junius thinks he is a lunatic,’ said the elder Miss Raden. She was in every way her sister’s opposite, dark of hair and eye where Janet was fair, tall where Janet was little, slow and quiet of voice where Janet was quick and gusty.
‘I entirely differ from him. I think John Macnab is perfectly sane, and probably a good fellow, though a dashed insolent one. What’s Bandicott doing about his river?’
‘Patrolling it day and night between the 1st and 3rd of September. He says he’s taking no chances, though he’d bet Wall Street to a nickel that the poor poop hasn’t the frozenest outside.’
‘Nettie, he said nothing of the kind!’ Miss Agatha was indignant. ‘He talks beautiful English, with no trace of an accent – all Bostonians do, he told me.’
‘Anyhow, he asked what steps we were taking and advised us to get busy. We come before him, you know . . . Heavens, papa, it begins tomorrow night! Oh, and I did so want to consult Sir Archibald. I’m sure he could help.’
Colonel Raden, having made a satisfactory breakfast, was lighting a pipe.
‘You need not worry, my dear. I’m an old campaigner and have planned out the thing thoroughly. I’ve been in frequent consultation with Macpherson, and yesterday we had Alan and James Fraser in, and they entirely agreed.’
He produced from his pocket a sheet of foolscap on which had been roughly drawn a map of the estate.
‘Now, listen to me. We must assume this fellow Macnab to be in possession of his senses, and to have more or less reconnoitred the ground – though I don’t know how the devil he can have managed it, for the gillies have kept their eyes open, and nobody’s been seen near the place. Well, here are the three beats. Unless young Bandicott is right and the man’s a lunatic, he won’t try the Home beat, for the simple reason that a shot there would be heard by twenty people and he could not move a beast twenty yards without being caught. There remains Carnmore and Carnbeg. Macpherson was clear that he would try Carnmore, as being farthest away from the house. But I, with my old campaigning experience’ – here Colonel Raden looked remarkably cunning – ‘pointed out at once that such reasoning was rudimentary. I said “He’ll bluff us, and just because he thinks that we think he’ll try Carnmore, he’ll try Carnbeg. Therefore, since we can only afford to watch one beat thoroughly, we’ll watch Carnbeg.” What do you think of that, my dears?’
‘I think you’re very clever, papa,’ said Agatha. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’
‘And you, Nettie?’
Janet was knitting her brows and looking thoughtful.
‘I’m ... not ... so .. . sure. You see we must assume that John Macnab is very ingenious. He probably made his fortune in the colonies by every kind of dodge. He’s sure to be very clever.’
‘Well but, my dear,’ said her father, ‘it’s just that cleverness that I propose to match.’
‘But do you think you have quite matched it? You have tried to imagine what John Macnab would be thinking, and he will have done just the same by you. Why shouldn’t he have guessed the conclusion you have reached and be deciding to go one better?’
‘How do you mean, Nettie?’ asked her puzzled parent. He was inclined to be annoyed, but experience had taught him that his younger daughter’s wits were not to be lightly disregarded.
Nettie took the estate map from his hand and found a stump of pencil in the pocket of her jumper.
‘Please look at this, papa. Here is A and B. B offers a better chance, so Macpherson says John Macnab will take B. You say, acutely, that John Macnab is not a fool, and will try to bluff us by taking A. I say that John Macnab will have anticipated your acumen.’
‘Yes, yes,’ said her father impatiently. ‘And then?’
‘And will take B after all.’
The Colonel stood rapt in unpleasant meditation for the space of five seconds.
‘God bless my soul!’ he cried. ‘I see what you mean. Confound it, of course he’ll go for Carnmore. Lord, this is a puzzle. I must see Macpherson at once. Are you sure you’re right, Nettie?’
‘I’m not in the least sure. We’ve only a choice of uncertainties, and must gamble. But, as far as I see, if we must plump for one we should plump for Carnmore.’
Colonel Raden departed from his study, after summoning Macpherson to that shrine of the higher thought, and Janet Raden, after one or two brief domestic interviews, collected her two terriers and set out for her morning walk. The morning was as fresh and bright as April, the rain in the night had set every burn singing, and the thickets and lawns were still damp where the sun had not penetrated. Her morning walk was wont to be a scamper, a thing of hops, skips, and jumps, rather than a sedate progress; but on this occasion, though two dogs and the whole earth invited to hilarity, she walked slowly and thoughtfully. The mossy broken tops of Carnbeg showed above a wood of young firs, and to the right rose the high blue peaks of the Carnmore ground. On which of these on the morrow would John Macnab begin his depredations? He had two days for his exploit; probably he would make his effort on the second day, and devote the first to confusing the minds of the defence. That meant that the problem would have to be thought out anew each day, for the alert intelligence of John Macnab – she now pictured him as a sort of Sherlock Holmes in knickerbockers – would not stand still. The prospect exhilarated, but it also alarmed her; the desire to win a new hunter was now a fixed resolution; but she wished she had a colleague. Agatha was no use, and her father, while admirable in tactics, was weak in strategy; she longed more than ever for the help of th
at frail vessel, Sir Archie.
Her road led her by a brawling torrent through the famous Glenraden beechwood to the spongy meadows of the haugh, beyond which could be seen the shining tides of the Raden sweeping to the high-backed bridge across which ran the road to Carnmore. The haugh was all bog-myrtle and heather and bracken, sprinkled with great boulders which the river during the ages had brought down from the hills. Half a mile up it stood the odd tumulus called the Piper’s Ring, crowned with an ancient gnarled fir, where reposed, according to the elder Bandicott, the dust of that dark progenitor, Harald Blacktooth. If Mr Bandicott proposed to excavate there he had his work cut out; the place was encumbered with giant stones since a thousand floods had washed its sides since it first received the dead Viking. Great birch woods from both sides of the valley descended to the stream, thereby making the excellence of the Home beat, for the woodland stag is a heavier beast than his brother of the high tops.
Close to the road, in a small hollow where one of the rivulets from the woods cut its way though the haugh, she came on an ancient cart resting on its shafts, an ancient horse grazing on a patch of turf among the peat, and a small boy diligently whittling his way through a pile of heather roots. The urchin sprang to his feet and saluted like a soldier.
‘Please, lady,’ he explained in a high falsetto whine, ‘I’ve gotten permission from Mr Macpherson to make heather besoms on this muir. He’s aye been awfu’ kind to me, lady.’
‘You’re the boy who sells fish? I’ve seen you on the road.’
‘Aye, lady, I’m Fish Benjie. I sell my fish in the mornin’s and evenin’s, and I’ve a’ the day for other jobs. I’ve aye wanted to come here, for it’s the grandest heather i’ the countryside; and Mr Macpherson, he kens I’ll do nae harm, and I’ve promised no to kindle a fire.’
The child with the beggar’s voice looked at her with such sage and solemn eyes that Janet, who had a hopeless weakness for small boys, sat down on a sun-warmed hillock and stared at him, while he turned resolutely to business.
‘If you’re hungry, Benjie,’ she said, ‘and they won’t let you make a fire, you can come up to the Castle and get tea from Mrs Fraser. Tell her I sent you.’
‘Thank you, lady, but if you please, I was gaun to my tea at Mrs Macpherson’s. She’s fell fond o’my haddies, and she tell’t me to tak a look in when I stoppit work. I’m ettlin’ to be here for a guid while.’
‘Will you come every day?’
‘Aye, every day about eight o’clock, and bide till maybe five in the afternoon when I go down to the cobles at Inverlarrig.’
‘Now, look here, Benjie. When you’re sitting quietly working here I want you to keep your eyes open, and if you see any strange man, tell Mr Macpherson. By strange man I mean somebody who doesn’t belong to the place. We’re rather troubled by poachers just now.’
Benjie raised a ruminant eye from his besom.
‘Aye, lady. I seen a queer man already this mornin’. He cam up the road and syne started off over the bog. He was sweatin’ sore, and there was twa men from Strathlarrig wi’ him carryin’ picks and shovels . . . Losh, there he is comin’ back.’
Following Benjie’s pointing finger Janet saw, approaching her from the direction of the Piper’s Ring, a solitary figure which laboured heavily among the peat-bogs. Presently it was revealed as an elderly man wearing a broad grey wide-awake and a suit of flannel knickerbockers. His enormous horn spectacles clearly did not help his eyesight, for he had almost fallen over the shafts of the fish-cart before he perceived Janet Raden. He removed his hat, bowed with an antique courtesy, and asked permission to recover his breath.
‘I was on my way to see your father,’ he said at length. ‘This morning I have prospected the barrow of Harald Blacktooth, and it is clear to me that I can make no progress unless I have Colonel Raden’s permission to use explosives. Only the very slightest use, I promise you. I have located, I think, the ceremonial entrance, but it is blocked with boulders which it would take a gang of navvies to raise with crowbars. A discreet application of dynamite would do the work in half an hour. I cannot think that Colonel Raden would object to my using it when I encounter such obstacles. I assure you it will not spoil the look of the barrow.’
‘I’m sure papa will be delighted. You’re certain the noise won’t frighten the deer? You know the Piper’s Ring is in the forest.’
‘Not in the least, my dear young lady. The reports will be very slight, scarcely louder than a rifle-shot. I ought to tell you that I am an old hand at explosives, for in my young days I mined in Colorado, and recently I have employed them in my Alaska researches . . .’
‘If we go home now,’ said Janet, rising, ‘we’ll just catch papa before he goes out. You’re very warm, Mr Bandicott, and I think you would be the better for a rest and a drink.’
‘I certainly should, my dear. I was so eager to begin that I bolted my breakfast, and started off before Junius was ready. He proposes to meet me here.’
Benjie, left alone, wrought diligently at his heather roots, whistling softly to himself, and every now and then raising his head to scan the haugh and the lower glen. Presently a tall young man appeared, who was identified as the younger American, and who was duly directed to follow his father to the Castle. The two returned in a little while, accompanied by Agatha Raden, and, while the elder Mr Bandicott hastened to the Piper’s Ring, the young people sauntered to the Raden bridge and appeared to be deep in converse. ‘Thae twa’s weel agreed,’ was Benjie’s comment. A little before one o’clock the party adjourned to the Castle, presumably for luncheon, and Benjie, whose noon-tide meal was always sparing, nibbled a crust of bread and a rind of cheese. In the afternoon Macpherson and one of the gillies strolled past, and the head-stalker proved wonderfully gracious, adjuring him, as Janet had done, to keep his eyes open and report the presence of any stranger. ‘There’ll be the three folk from Strathlarrig howkin’ awa there, but if ye see anybody else, away up to the house and tell the wife. They’ll no be here for any good.’ Benjie promised fervently. ‘I’ve grand een, Mr Macpherson, sir, and though they was to be crawlin’ like a serpent I’d be on them.’ The head-stalker observed that he was a ‘gleg one’, and went his ways.
Despite his industry Benjie was remarkably observant that day, but he was not looking for poachers. He had suddenly developed an acute interest in the deer. His unaided eyes were as good as the ordinary man’s telescope, and he kept a keen watch on the fringes of the great birch woods. The excavation at the Piper’s Ring kept away any beasts from the east side of the haugh, but on the west bank of the stream he saw two lots of hinds grazing, with one or two young stags among them, and even on the east bank, close in to the edge of the river, he saw hinds with calves. He concluded that on the fringes of the Raden the feeding must be extra good, and, as a steady west wind was blowing, the deer there would not be alarmed by Mr Bandicott’s quest. Just after he had finished his bread and cheese he was rewarded with the spectacle of a hummel, a great fellow of fully twenty stone, who rolled in a peat hole and then stood blowing in the shallow water as unconcerned as if he had been on the top of Carnmore. Later in the afternoon he saw a good ten-pointer in the same place, and a little later an eight-pointer with a damaged horn. He concluded that that particular hag was a favourite mud-bath for stags, and that with the wind in the west it was no way interfered with by the activities at the Piper’s Ring.
About four o’clock Benjie backed the old horse into the shafts, and jogged up the beech avenue to Mrs Macpherson’s, where he was stayed with tea and scones. There was a gathering outside the door of Macpherson himself and the two gillies, and a strange excitement seemed to have fallen on that stolid community. Benjie could not avoid – indeed, I am not sure that he tried to avoid – hearing scraps of their talk. ‘I’ve been a’ round Carnmore,’ said Alan, ‘and I seen some fine beasts. They’re mostly in a howe atween the two tops, and a man at the Grey Beallach could keep an eye on all the good ground.’ ‘Aye, but there??
?s the Carn Moss, and the burnheads – there will be beasts there too,’ said James Fraser. ‘There will have to be a man there, for him at the Grey Beallach would not ken what was happening.’ ‘And what about Corrie Gall?’ asked Macpherson fiercely. ‘Ye canna post men on Carnmore – they will have to keep moving; it is that awful broken ground.’ ‘Well, there’s you and me and James,’ said Alan, ‘and there’s Himself ‘And that’s the lot of us, and every man wanted,’ said Macpherson. ‘It’s what I was always saying – ye will need every man for Carnmore, and must let Carnbeg alone, or ye can watch Carnbeg and not go near Carnmore. We’re far ower few.’ ‘I wass thinking,’ said James Fraser, ‘that the youngest leddy might be watching Carnbeg.’ ‘Aye, James’ – this satirically from Macpherson - ‘and how would the young leddy be keeping a wild man from killing a stag and getting him away?’ ‘ ‘Deed, I don’t ken,’ said the puzzled James, ‘without she took a gun with her and had a shot at him.’
Benjie drove quietly to Inverlarrig for his supply of fish, and did not return to his head-quarters in the Wood of Larrigmore till nearly seven o’clock. At eight, having cooked and eaten his supper, he made a simple toilet, which consisted in washing the fish-scales and the stains of peat from his hands, holding his head in the river, parting his damp hair with a broken comb, and putting over his shoulders a waterproof cape, which had dropped from some passing conveyance and had been found by him on the road. Thus accoutred, he crossed the river and by devious paths ascended to Crask.