CHAPTER SIX.
DANGEROUS STUDIES, PECULIAR ART, AND SPLENDID FISHING.
There was a glass conservatory in one corner of the garden at KinlossieHouse, to which the laird was wont to retire regularly for the enjoymentof a pipe every morning after breakfast. In this retreat, which wasrich in hot-house plants, he was frequently joined by one or more of themembers of his family, and sometimes by the friends who chanced to bestaying with him. Thither John Barret got into the way of going--partlyfor the sake of a chat with the old man, of whom he soon became veryfond, and partly for the sake of the plants, in which he wasscientifically interested, botany being, as Mabberly said, his peculiarweakness.
One morning--and a gloriously bright morning it was, such as induces oneto thank God for the gift of sunshine and the capacity of enjoying it--John Barret sauntered down to the garden, after breakfast, to have aquiet chat with his host. He had decided to remain at home that morningfor the purpose of writing a letter or two, intending in the afternoonto follow up some of his companions, who had gone off to the hills.
Entering the conservatory, he found that the laird was not there; but,in his usual rustic chair, there sat a beautiful girl, sound asleep,with her fair cheek resting on her little hand, and her nut-brown hairstraggling luxuriantly over her shoulders.
Barret was spell-bound. He could not move for a few seconds. Surprisemay have had something to do with the sudden paralysis of his powers.It may have been curiosity, possibly admiration, certainly some sort ofsensation that he could neither describe nor account for. He knew at aglance who the girl was, though he had not seen her since the day of heraccident. Even if he had been so obtuse as not to know, the arm in asling would have revealed that it was Milly Moss who slumbered there;yet he found it hard to believe that the neat little woman, with thelovely, benignant countenance before him was in very truth thedishevelled, dusty, scratched, and blood-sprinkled being whom he hadcarried for several miles over the heather a short time before.
As we have said, Barret stood immovable, not knowing very well what todo. Then it occurred to him that it was scarcely gallant or fair thusto take advantage of a sleeping beauty. Staring at her was bad enough,but to awake her would be still worse; so he turned slowly about, as acat turns when afraid of being pounced on by a glaring adversary. Hewould retire on tiptoe as softly as possible, so as not to disturb her.In carrying out this considerate intention, he swept a flower-pot offits stand, which fell with a mighty crash upon the stone floor.
The poor youth clasped his hands, and glanced back over his shoulder inhorror. The startled Milly was gazing at him with mingled surprise andalarm, which changed, however, into a flush and a look of restrainedlaughter as she began to understand the situation.
"Never mind, Mr Barret," she said, rising, and coming forward with agracious manner. "It is only one of the commonest plants we have.There are plenty more of them. You came, I suppose, in search of myuncle? Excuse my left hand; the right, as you see, is not yet fit forduty."
"I did indeed come here in search of Mr Gordon," said Barret,recovering himself; "but permit me to lead you back to the chair; yourstrength has not quite returned yet, I see."
He was right. Although Milly had recovered much more rapidly than thedoctor had expected, she could not stand much excitement, and the shockgiven by the breaking flower-pot, coupled, perhaps, with the unexpectedmeeting with the man who had rescued her, from what might well havecaused her death, somewhat overcame her.
"Excuse me," she said, with a fluttering sigh, as she sank down into therustic chair, "I do feel rather faint. It does seem so strange! I--Isuppose it is because I have had no experience of anything but robusthealth all my life till now. There--I feel better. Will you kindlyfetch me a glass of water? You will find a cistern with a tumblerbeside it outside."
The youth hurried out, and, on returning with the glass, found that thedeadly pallor of the girl's face had passed away, and was replaced by atint that might have made the blush rose envious.
"You must understand," said Milly, setting down the glass, while Barretseated himself on a vacant flower-pot-stand beside her, "that thisconservatory is a favourite haunt of mine, to which, before my accident,I have resorted every morning since I came here, in order to sit withUncle Allan. The doctor thought me so much better this morning that hegave me leave to recommence my visits. This is why I came; but I hadtotally forgotten that uncle had arranged to go out with the shootingparty to-day, so I sat down to enjoy my favourite plants, and paid themthe poor compliment of falling asleep, owing to weakness, I suppose.But how does it happen, Mr Barret, that you have been left behind?They gave me to understand that you are a keen sportsman."
"They misled you, then, for I am but a poor sportsman, and by no meansenthusiastic. Indeed, whether I go out with rod or gun, I usuallyconvert the expedition into a search for plants."
"Oh, then, you are fond of botany!" exclaimed the girl, with a flush ofpleasure and awakened interest. "I am so glad of that, because--because--"
"Well, why do you hesitate, Miss Moss?" asked Barret, with a surprisedlook and a smile.
"Well, I don't quite like to lay bare my selfishness; but the truth is,there are some rare plants in terribly inaccessible places, which canonly be reached by creatures in male attire. In fact, I was trying tosecure one of these on the Eagle Cliff when I fell, and was so nearlykilled at the time you rescued me."
"Pray don't give the little service I rendered so dignified a name as`rescue.' But it rejoices me to know that I can be of further serviceto you--all the more that you are now so helpless; for if you foundclimbing the precipices difficult before, you will find it impossiblenow with your injured arm. By the way, I was very glad to find that Ihad been mistaken in thinking that your arm was broken. Has it givenyou much pain?"
"Yes, a good deal; but I am very, very thankful it was no worse. Andnow I must show you some of the plants I have been trying to bring upsince I came here," said Milly, with animation. "Of course, I cannotwalk about to show them to you, so I will point them out, and ask you tofetch the pots--that is, if you have nothing better to do, and won't bebored."
Barret protested earnestly that he had nothing--_could_ have nothing--better to do, and that even if he had he wouldn't do it. As for beingbored, the idea of such a state of mind being possible in thecircumstances was ridiculous.
Milly was rejoiced. Here she had unexpectedly found a friend tosympathise with her intelligently. Her uncle, she was well aware,sympathised with her heartily, but not intelligently; for his knowledgeof botany, he told her frankly, was inferior to that of a tom-cat, andhe was capable of little more in that line than to distinguish thedifference between a cabbage and a potato.
At it, therefore, the two young people went with real enthusiasm--wemight almost say with red-hot enthusiasm--for botany was only asuperstructure, so to speak, love being the foundation of the wholeaffair.
But let not the reader jump to hasty conclusions. Barret and Milly,being young and inexperienced, were absolutely ignorant at that time ofthe true state of matters. Both were earnest and straightforward--bothwere ardently fond of botany, and neither, up to that period, had knownwhat it was to fall in love. What more natural, then, than that theyshould attribute their condition to botany? There is, indeed, a sensein which their idea was correct, for sympathy is one of the mostprecious seeds with which poor humanity is entrusted, and did not botanyenable these two to unite in planting that seed, and is not sympathy thegerm of full-blown love? If so, may they not be said to have fallen inlove botanically? We make no assertion in regard to this. We merely,and modestly, put the question, leaving it to the intelligent reader tosupply the answer--an exceedingly convenient mode of procedure when oneis not quite sure of the answer one's self.
To return. Having got "at it," Barret and Milly continued at it forseveral hours, during which period they either forgot, or did not careto remember, the flight of time. They also contrived, during tha
t time,to examine, discuss, and comment upon, a prodigious number of plants,all of which, being in pots or boxes, were conveyed by the youth to theempty stand at the side of the fair invalid. The minute examinationwith a magnifying glass of corolla, and stamen, and calyx, etcetera,rendered it necessary, of course, that these inquiries into themysteries of Nature should bring the two heads pretty close together;one consequence being that the seed-plant of sympathy was "forced" agood deal, and developed somewhat after the fashion of those plantswhich Hindoo jugglers cause magically to sprout, blossom, and bloombefore the very eyes of astonished beholders--with this difference,however, that whereas the development of the jugglers is deceptive aswell as quick, that of our botanists was genuine and natural, thoughrapid.
The clang of the luncheon gong was the first thing that brought them totheir senses.
"Surely there must be some mistake! Junkie must be playing with--no, itis indeed one o'clock," exclaimed Milly, consulting in unbelief a watchso small that it seemed like cruelty to expect it to go at all, muchless to go correctly.
As she spoke, the door of the conservatory opened, and Mrs Gordonappeared with affected indignation on her usually mild countenance.
"You naughty child!" she exclaimed, hurrying forward. "Did I not warnyou to stay no longer than an hour? and here you are, flushed, and nodoubt feverish, in consequence of staying the whole forenoon. Take myarm, and come away directly."
"I pray you, Mrs Gordon, to lay the blame on my shoulders," saidBarret. "I fear it was my encouraging Miss Moss to talk of herfavourite study that induced her to remain."
"I would be only too glad to lay the blame on your shoulders if I couldlay Milly's weakness there too," returned the lady. "It is quiteevident that you would never do for a nurse. Strong men like you havenot sympathy enough to put yourself in the place of invalids, and thinkhow they feel. I would scold you severely, sir, if you were not myguest. As it is, I will forgive you if you promise me not to mentionthe subject of botany in the presence of my niece for a week to come."
"The condition is hard," said Barret, with a laugh; "but I promise--thatis, if Miss Moss does not force the subject on me."
"I promise that, Mr Barret; but I also attach a condition."
"Which is--?"
"That you go to Eagle Cliff some day this week, and find for me aparticular plant for which I have sought for a long time in vain, butwhich I am told is to be found there."
"Most willingly. Nothing could give me greater pleasure," returned theyouth, with an air of such eager enthusiasm that he felt constrained toadd,--"you see, the acquisition of new and rare plants has been a sortof passion with me for many years, and I am quite delighted to find thatthere is a possibility of not only gratifying it here, but of being ableat the same time to contribute to your happiness."
They reached the house as he made this gallant speech, and Milly wentstraight to her room.
The only members of the household who sat down to luncheon that day wereMrs Gordon, Archie, the enthusiastic photographer, and Flo, with herblack doll; and the only guest, besides Barret, was McPherson, theskipper of the lost yacht. The rest were all out rambling by mountain,loch, or stream.
"Milly won't appear again to-day," said the hostess, as she sat down."I knew that she had overdone it. The shock to her system has been fartoo severe to admit of botanical discussions."
Barret professed himself overwhelmed with a sense of guilt, and promisedto avoid the dangerous subject in future.
"Mother," exclaimed Flo, who was a good but irrepressible child, "whatd'ee t'ink? Archie have pofografft dolly, an' she's as like as--as--twopeas. Isn't she, Archie?"
"Quite as like as that, Flo," replied Archie, with a laugh; "liker, ifanything."
"By the way, how did you get on with your photographing yesterdayafternoon, Archie?" asked Barret.
"Pretty well with some of the views; but I ruined the last one, becausefather would have me introduce Captain McPherson and his man McGregor."
"Is that so, captain?" asked Mrs Gordon.
"Oo, ay; it iss true enough," answered the skipper, with a grim smile."He made a queer like mess o' me, what-e-ver."
"How was it, Archie?"
"Well, mother, this is how it was. You know the waterfall at the headof Raven's Nook? Well, I have long wanted to take that, so I went upwith father and Mr Mabberly. We found the captain and McGregor sittingthere smoking their pipes, and when I was arranging the camera, thecaptain said to me--"
"No, Maister Archie," interrupted the skipper; "I did not say anythingto Shames. You should be more parteekler. But Shames said something to_me_, what-e-ver."
"Just so; I forgot," continued Archie. "Well, McGregor said to thecaptain, `What would you think if we wass to sit still an' co into thepictur'?'"
"Oo, ay; that was just it, an' fery like him too," said the skipper,laughing at Archie's imitation, though he failed to recognise thesimilarity to his own drawling and nasal tones. People always do thusfail. We can never see ourselves!
"Well," continued Archie, "father insisted that I was to take them,though they quite spoiled the view. So I did; but in the very middle ofthe operation, what did the captain do but insist on changing his--"
"Not at all, Maister Archie," again interrupted the skipper; "you havenot got the right of it. It wass Shames said to me that he thought youhad feenished, an' so I got up; an' then you roared like a wild bullockto keep still, and so what could I do but keep still? an so--"
"Exactly; that was it," cried Archie, interrupting in his turn; "but youkept still _standing_, and so there were three figures in the picturewhen it was done, and your fist in the standing one came right in frontof your own nose in the sitting one, for all the world as if you weregoing to knock yourself down. Such a mess it was altogether!"
"That iss fery true. It wass a mess, what-e-ver!"
"You must show me this curious photograph, Archie, after lunch," saidBarret; "it must be splendid."
"But it is not so splendid as my dolly," chimed in Flo. "I'll show youzat after lunch too."
Accordingly, after the meal was over, Archie carried Barret off to hisworkshop. Then Flo took him to the nursery, where she not only showedhim the portrait of the nigger doll, which was a striking likeness--fordolls invariably sit well--but took special pains to indicate thevarious points which had "come out" so "bootifully"--such as the nailswhich Junkie had driven into its wooden head for the purpose of makingit behave better; the chip that Junkie had taken off the end of its nosewhen he tried to convert that feature into a Roman; the deep line drawnround the head close to the hair by Junkie, when, as the chief of theMicmac Indians, he attempted to scalp it; and the hole through the righteye, by which Junkie proposed to let a little more light into its blackbrain.
Having seen and commented on all these things, Barret retired to thesmoking-room, not to smoke, but to consult a bundle of newspapers whichthe post had brought to the house that day.
For it must not be imagined that the interests and amusements by whichhe was surrounded had laid the ghost of the thin, little old lady whomhe had mur--at least run down--in London. No; wherever he went, andwhatever he did, that old lady, like Nemesis, pursued him. When helooked down, she lay sprawling--a murdered, at least a manslaughtered,victim--at his feet. When he looked up, she hung, like the sword ofDamocles, by a single fibre of maiden's hair over his head.
It was of no use that his friend Jackman rallied him on the point.
"My dear fellow," he would say, "don't you see that if you had reallykilled her, the thing would have been published far and wide all overthe kingdom, with a minute description, and perhaps a portrait ofyourself on the bicycle, in all the illustrated papers? Even if you hadonly injured her severely, they would have made a sensation of it, withan offer, perhaps, of a hundred pounds for your capture, and a carefulindication of the streets through which you passed when you ran away--"
"Ay, that's what makes the matter so much worse," Barret would
reply;"the unutterable meanness of running away!"
"But you repented of that immediately," Jackman would return in soothingtones; "and you did your utmost to undo it, though the effort wasfutile."
Barret was usually comforted a good deal by the remarks of his friend,and indeed frequently forgot his trouble, especially when meditating onbotanical subjects with Milly. Still, it remained a fact that he washaunted by the little old lady, more or less, and had occasional baddreams, besides becoming somewhat anxious every time he opened anewspaper.
While Barret and the skipper were thus taking what the latter called aneasy day of it, their friend Mabberly, with Eddie and Junkie and theseaman McGregor, had gone over the pass in the waggonette to the villageof Cove for a day's sea-fishing. They were driven by Ivor Donaldson.
"You'll not have been in these parts before, sir?" said Ivor, who was aquiet, polite, and sociable man when not under the influence of drink.
"No, never," answered Mabberly, who sat on the seat beside him; "and ifit had not been for our misfortune, or the carelessness of that unknownsteamer, I should probably never have known of the existence of yourbeautiful island. At least, I would have remained in ignorance of itsgrandeur and beauty."
"That proves the truth of the south-country sayin', sir,--`It's an illwind that blaws nae guid.'"
"It does, indeed; for although the loss of my father's yacht is a veryconsiderable one, to have missed the hospitality of the laird ofKinlossie, and the rambling over your magnificent hills, would have beena greater misfortune."
The keeper, who cherished a warm feeling for old Mr Gordon, and admiredhim greatly, expressed decided approval of the young man's sentiments,as was obvious from the pleased smile on his usually grave countenance,though his lips only gave utterance to the expression, "Fery true, sir;you are not far wrong."
At the Eagle Pass they halted a few minutes to breathe the horses.Eddie and Junkie, of course, jumped down, followed by James McGregor,with whom they had already formed a friendship.
"Come away, an' we'll show you the place where Milly fell down. Comealong, quicker, Shames," cried Junkie, adopting the name that theskipper used; for the boy's love of pleasantry not infrequently betrayedhim into impudence.
With a short laugh, Mabberly turned to Ivor, and asked if Shames was theGaelic for James.
"No, sir" replied the keeper; "but James is the English for Shames."
"Ha! you are quoting now--or rather, misquoting--from the lips of someIrishman."
"Weel, sir, I never heard it said that quota-ashun wass a sin," retortedIvor; then, turning to the stupendous cliff that frowned above them,"Hev ye heard of the prophecy, sir, aboot this cliff?"
"No. What is it?"
"It's said that the cliff is to be the scene of a ghost story, a lovestory, and a murder all at the same time."
"Is that all, Ivor? Did the prophet give no indication how the storieswere to end, or who the murderer is to be, or the murdered one?"
"Never a word, sir; only they wass all to be aboot the same time.Indeed, the prophet, whether man or wuman, is not known. Noo, we bettershump up."
In a few minutes the waggonette was rattling down the slopes that led toCove, and soon afterwards they were exchanging greetings with old IanAnderson, the fisherman.
"Iss it to fush, ye'll be wantin'?" asked Ian, as he ushered the partyinto his cottage, where Mrs Anderson was baking oat-cakes, and Aggy wasbusy knitting socks with her thin fingers as deftly and rapidly as ifshe had been in robust health.
"Yes, that is our object to-day," said Mabberly. "Good-day, MrsAnderson; good-day, Aggy. I'm glad to see you looking so much better,though I can't see very well for your cottage is none of the lightest,"he said, glancing at the small window, where a ragged head, with aflattened white nose, accounted for the obscurity.
"There might be _more_ light," said Ian, seizing a thick thorn stick,and making a sudden demonstration towards the door, the instant effectof which action was an improvement in the light. It did not last long,however, for "Tonal'," after watching at the corner of the cottage longenough to make sure that the demonstration was a mere feint, returned tohis post of observation.
"Yes, sir," remarked Mrs Anderson; "Aggy is much better. The fresh airis doin' her cood already, an' the peels that the shentleman--yourfriend--gave her is workin' wonders."
"They usually do, of one sort or another," returned Mabberly, with apeculiar smile. "I'm glad they happen to be wonders of the right sortin Aggy's case. My friend has been out in India, and his prescriptionshave been conceived in a warm climate, you see, which may account fortheir wonder-working qualities. Can we have your boat to-day, MrAnderson?"
"Oo, ay; ye can hev that, sir," said Ian, summoning Donald to hispresence with a motion of his finger. "Tonal'," he said, when raggedhead stood at the open door, "hev we ony pait?"
"Ay, plenty."
"Co doon, then, an' git the poat ready."
The boy disappeared without reply--a willing messenger. A few minutesmore, and Ivor and Ian were rowing the boat towards a part of the seawhich was deemed good fishing ground, while the rest of the party busiedthemselves arranging the lines.
Strong brown lines they were, wound on little square wooden frames, eachwith a heavy leaden sinker and a couple of strong coarse hooks ofwhitened metal attached to the lines by stout whipcord; for the denizensof those western waters were not the poddlies, coddlings, and shrimpsthat one is apt to associate with summer resorts by the sea. They werethose veritable inhabitants of the deep that figure on the slabs ofBillingsgate and similar markets--plaice and skate of the largestdimensions, congers that might suggest the great sea serpent, and evensharks of considerable size.
The surroundings were cognate. Curlews and sandpipers whistled on theshore, complaining sea-mews sailed overhead, and the low-lying skerriesoutside were swarming with "skarts" and other frequenters of the wildnorth.
"Oh, _what_ a funny face!" exclaimed Junkie, as a great seal rose headand shoulders out of the sea, not fifty yards off, to look at them. Itsobservations induced it to sink promptly.
"Let co the anchor, Tonal'," said Ian; "the pottom should be cood here."
"Hand me the pait, Junkie," said McGregor.
"Shie a bit this way," shouted Eddie.
"There--I've broke it!" exclaimed Junkie, almost whimpering, as he heldup the handle of his knife in one hand, and in the other a mussel with abroken blade sticking in it.
"Never mind, Junkie. You can have mine, and keep it," said Mabberly,handing to the delighted boy a large buck-horn-handled knife, whichbristled with appliances.
"An' don't try it on again," said Ian. "Here iss pait for you, my poy."
A few minutes more, and the lines were down, and expectation wasbreathlessly rampant.
"Hi!" burst from Eddie, at the same moment that "Ho!" slipped fromMcGregor; but both ceased to haul in on finding that the "tugs" were notrepeated.
"Hallo!" yelled "Tonal'," who fished beside Junkie, on feeling a tugworthy of a whale; and, "Hee! hee!" burst from Junkie, whose mischievoushand had caused the tug when ragged head was not looking.
In the midst of these false alarms Ivor drew up his line, and no one wasaware of his success until a fish of full ten pounds' weight wasfloundering in the boat. The boys were yet commenting on it noisily,when Ian put a large cod beside it.
"_What_ a tug!" cried Eddie, beginning to haul up in violent haste.
"Hev a care, or the line will pairt," said McGregor.
At the same moment "Shames" himself gave a jerk, as if he had receivedan electric shock, and in a few seconds a large plaice and a small crabwere added to the "pile!"
"I've got _something_ at last," said Mabberly, doing his best to repressexcitement as he hauled in his line deliberately.
The something turned out to be an eel about four feet long, which wentabout the boat as if it were in its native element, and cost an amazingamount of exertion, whacking, and shouting, to subdue.
Bu
t this was nothing to the fish with which Junkie began to struggleimmediately after, and which proved to be a real shark, five feet long.After the united efforts of Ian and Donald had drawn it to the surface,Junkie was allowed to strike the gaff into it, and a loud cheer greetedthe monster of the deep as it was hurled into the bottom of the boat.
Thus, in expectation, excitation, and animation, they spent theremainder of that memorable day.