CHAPTER III.
STOPPING UP THE WEST.
We must now follow Lord Lundy after his chastisement at the hands of Charlie Stuart. Ruffled in his temper, and galling under his first punishment in life, he retraced his steps to the river bank, where he was soon met by another gentleman of maturer appearance. This was his lordship's cousin, the Honourable Captain Somerville of the Guards, who had accompanied his lordship on a leave of absence during the shooting season to the Highlands.
"Well, my noble cousin, any luck this morning? Look here I have been very successful," exclaimed the captain, displaying some fine trout to the sullen gaze of the discomfited cousin, "as I live, your noble countenance looks more disappointed than if all the beauties of our court had cut you, for the sake of the caprice of a few trout." "Indeed, captain, you are mistaken, my disappointment does not proceed from the caprice of trout, nor yet a court lady, but rather a simple mountain maid, and although I may run the risk of your bantering through my romantic and unsuccessful freak, I cannot keep it from you, never having been so annoyed before."
His lordship here stated the whole circumstance. How the scenery, and the singular beauty of the Highland maid, had made such an impression on his mind. How his own rash and inconsiderate conduct (for which he was now sorry) in endeavouring to detain her, had brought upon him the humbling rebuke of the Highlander, or most likely her brother: and how that he would now give his whole fortune to recall his conduct and be established in the romantic beauty's good graces.
As his lordship anticipated, the gallant captain enjoyed the affair amazingly, and considered it a capital joke, but on seeing the seriousness of his lordship, and the apparent impression the whole event had exercised on him, he desisted, for fear of displeasing. He, however, used all his tact to banish the deep impression which the extraordinary beauty of the Highland maid had made on the heart of his noble cousin, but without avail. His lordship was resolved on making amends, and, if possible, at all risks, to gain her affections. Many suggestions were accordingly proposed by both on their way back to the castle, for its consummation, but the following one, which was proposed by the experienced and gallant captain, was resolved on shortly after their arrival at the castle, after having consulted a servant regarding the present inhabitants of Kinlochlinn.
This servant informed them that the occupant of the farm and mansion on the north side, was a comfortable tenant named McKay, who had one son, eighteen years old, and a daughter, Isabella, fifteen, and very beautiful. The farm and mansion on the south side was occupied by Mr. Stuart, the factor of the estate, who had one son, eighteen years old, and now at Edinburgh University.
It must be remarked that this servant was not aware that Charlie Stuart had arrived the day before on his annual visit to his home at the vacation, and also forgot to mention that George McKay was in England; thus relieving his lordship of all apprehension that the young Highlander who had chastised him was the young maid's lover; he, therefore, with his cousin, had no doubt but the rash young man must be her brother; consequently, the captain's plan of proceedings was as follows:—First, in case the young couple might have told their father: and in order to bring about a reconciliation, that his lordship should invite him to the castle, and receive him favourably; then, in order to pave the way towards his daughter's affections, to offer him the agency or factorship of the estate in place of Mr. Stuart. Secondly, that his lordship should give a grand entertainment to all the tenantry on the estate at an early day, when all athletic games and feats pleasing to the Highlanders should be introduced, with suitable prizes to be contested for. And, in addition to these, other prizes for which gentlemen would contend, such as a steeplechase and a rifle match. In these last, the gallant captain argued that his lordship would signalize himself, (being one of the most accomplished in England), that his name would be raised in the estimation of all present, particularly the fair sex, and the coy Miss McKay above all. The whole to conclude with a grand ball, when all the beauty and youth on the estate would attend.
This grand and elaborate programme put forth by the honorable and gallant captain, found favour in his lordship's eyes, although they were principally suggested or framed to satisfy the appetite of the proposer, who, himself, was a great celebrity in these sports and amusements; especially where the fair ones were concerned.
According to the above arrangements, John Brown, his lordship's valet, was dispatched next day to Kinlochlinn, with a note to Mr. McKay.
As this messenger will figure on several occasions through our tale, we will give the reader a glimpse of his character.
Mr. Brown was a thorough cockney, and passionately fond of fine clothes and airs, and above all to make a himpression on wirgins (as he termed them). When not in his noble master's presence, he affected more airs than that distinguished personage, and was often mistaken for him by strangers, a circumstance which greatly flattered the valet's vanity. Being now for the first time among the hignorant Eelanders, he resolved on creating a sensation among them, or, in his own words, hastonish the natives, and captivate the hearts of the lassies. While he is, however, riding towards his destination, we shall introduce another couple, who will be useful to our tale hereafter.
The first of these is Donald Munroe, Charlie Stuart's body servant and foster-brother. His father, old Munroe, had been a piper in Mr. Stuart's family, until his son grew up, and was initiated in that accomplishment. Donald was only six months older than Charlie, and a very active and good-looking young man.
Having very little to do, especially when his young master was in college, Donald passed most of his time in shooting, fishing, and looking after the game and forests with his father, and occasionally playing pibroch.
Being of a very lively and amusing disposition, he took great pleasure in inventing tales and fabricating innocent anecdotes, to gull the most simple and ignorant among the small cotters on the Lochlinn estate.
Among the most conspicuous of his victims and dupes were some half-dozen small cotters, living in a wild and unfrequented point, or rue, at the south entrance of Lochlinn. This solitary spot was rendered almost inaccessible by land, by a barrier of cliffs which separated it from the main, and through facing the Atlantic was liable to strong westerly gales, from which it derived the singular name in Gaelic of Ton-ghaoi (or Windy-Bottom). The inhabitants of this sequestered point were, as already mentioned, owing to their seldom mixing or associating with the outer world, yet ignorant of many enlightened and modern facts regarding the construction of the globe and firmament. In short, they believed the earth to be a flat or plain surface, bordered or capped over with the firmament, which was composed of some clear substance, through which the sun, moon, and stars travelled.
The winter before the opening of our tale having been unusually wet and stormy, Donald Munroe had little to occupy him, he therefore bethought himself of visiting Ton Ghaoi for Otter-hunting, and also to give these simple people a taste of his pibroch, of which they were passionately fond.
On leaving, his father commissioned him to tell the Ton Ghaoi people that the factor's (Mr. Stuart's) boats were in need of repair for conveying seaweed for manure in the spring; they required oakum for that purpose, and as these people were always supplied with that article from pieces of cable cast on their wild coast from wrecks, that he (the factor) would thank them for sending him some.
On arriving among these simple people, Donald gave them a hearty taste of his music (all having gathered round him in the house he lodged at for the night), and danced to their hearts' content to the sound of his lively reels.
After this the piper was besieged and pressed on to open his budget of news concerning the outer world, and above all what were the opinions of the people in general regarding the unprecedented and fearful wet winter they were visited by this season.
The mischievous piper seeing the eagerness and thirst of the ignorant and innocent people for some interesting news, began with the following fabrication, which he related with the greatest sang froid to his gaping audience:—
"That reminds me of my message to you all, as I suppose you have not heard of the great news of the world. An act of parliament has been passed lately which requires that every person in the three kingdoms shall procure all the oakum they possibly can before a certain day and the whole is to be shipped off towards the west. The reason of this is, that last summer being so dry the west firmament became cracked, causing a great leakage, which if not stopped up and caulked will produce another flood, and drown every person on the face of the earth. Every individual therefore on this estate, is commanded by the factor to send as much oakum as possible to his place before a fortnight, and anyone not complying with these orders is to be turned off the estate first Whitsuntide."
Precisely that day fortnight, as Mr. Stuart and old Munro were taking their rounds about the farm, they espied on unusual fleet of boats sailing up Lochlinn; and, on landing near the factor's house, their cargoes of bags were discharged. In order to ascertain the nature of the cargo, and who the new comers were, both walked to the beach and accosted the Ton Ghaoi people, who, at once explained their business.
Mr Stuart turned round with a smile to old Munro for an explanation, and that individual immediately predicted his mischievous son's tricks, which he whispered to Mr. Stuart, and fearing if the people were to know what dupes they had been made, that they would revenge themselves the first opportunity, he therefore prayed that Mr. Stuart would leave them still in ignorance.
The worthy factor told these simple men, that as the weather had cleared up, the act, or order, would most likely be countermanded. He, however, accepted of the oakum (which would last for years), and treated the doners to a copious supply of uisgebea, which fully compensated them for their trouble.
Such were the young piper's tricks, which, however, placed him pretty high in the estimation of all the young people, particularly the fair portion of them; but notwithstanding all their winning looks and coquettish allurements to entrap the handsome piper's heart, none of them were able to accomplish that object, for this special reason that it was already an inextricable captive to the charms of Mary Grant's sparkling black eyes.
Mary was the only child and daughter of Donald Grant (Mr. McKay's grieve or overseer) and Bella McKay's waiting maid. Being only a year older than her young mistress, and a brunette, Mary was considered the smartest and prettiest lassie in that part. Always attending on her young mistress, and having many advantages in dress (of which she was passionately fond), and many other feminine accomplishments, Mary became an "object" of attraction to all the young men in the neighbourhood; but, although she bestowed on all of them a wink and smile, her heart was invulnerable, being safe in the possession of Donald Munroe.
It had been universally admitted that Donald played his best reels and strathspeys at balls and weddings, whenever Mary graced the floor, to whose well-played music she did full justice, and beat excellent time with her lively pretty feet, which she exhibited by wearing a smart short dress. Mary also, on her part, rewarded her lover by favouring him with the cap in the cushion dance, and the smack that followed always created smiles and significant winks among the young assemblage. Donald Munro and Mary Grant, thus avowed lovers, formed many little schemes and plans to forward their own wishes, and also an attachment which they believed to exist between their young master and mistress, Charlie Stuart and Bella McKay. Whether they judged those young couple by their own footings, we know not; one thing, however, we know, that by bringing them often together, they themselves would have more opportunities of enjoying each other's company, as they constantly attended on them. Still, we must not charge them with selfishness, or being bent only on promoting their own courtship, for they eagerly wished for the encouragement of the other young couple's, which would also be a good cloak for their own.
Among other plans which were suggested, and which they proposed to put into execution whenever Charlie Stuart arrived on his annual visit, was to telegraph that joyful event, that Donald on the same evening, while playing his round of pibroch on the lawn before Mr. Stuart's mansion, would include that popular air, "Prince Charlie's Salute," or, as it is better known in Gaelic by the name of "Isabail nic aoi"—(Isabella Mackay)—a name given to that prince when the air was first composed, and which ran in the following parable:—
| Gaelic. Isabail nic aoi, 'M bun a chro laoi 'Munadh na fri, Gun duinue mar ri, Si na haonaran, &c. |
Anglice. Isabella Mackay, 'Tending the kye 'Along mountains high, With nobody nigh, So lonesomely, &c. |
Thus, as will be seen, the pibroch was applicable to each of the young couple, Charlie having long been nick-named Prince Charlie, and Bella's name also being included in the air.
True to his promise, on Charlie's arrival Donald gave vent to the favourite air in his masterly style, wending the thrilling strains through hill and glen, and over the serene waters of Lochlinn.
Bella, who was ignorant of the plan, or that her young neighbour had arrived, was sitting in her room, and her maid, Mary Grant, bustling about the apartment, chattering away as usual some local gossip, but hearing the sound of the distant pibroch, in a pause in her own conversation, through the open window, advancing quickly she leant out, and listened attentively for a few seconds, when instantly recognising the favourite air, she bounded back in transports of joy, gave a couple of turns on the floor, clapping her hands, and exclaiming, "He's come! He's come!"
Bella stared with astonishment at this unaccountable conduct of her maid, and thought she was taking leave of her senses, and on inquiring the cause of her hilarity, and whom she meant having come, Mary answered, "Oh! the Prince! I mean Mr. Charlie, to be sure!"
Bella blushed unconsciously, and wished to know what proof she had of such a fact, when Mary a little embarrassedly narrated the plan Donald and herself had invented in order to communicate the agreeable intelligence.
Her young mistress coloured more deeply on hearing her own name coupled with Charlie's in the air, and on learning that both of them were the subject of Donald and Mary's gossip (by the maid's own confession) she was therefore resolved for the future to be more reserved in Charlie's company, and never again to manifest the same joy and happiness on meeting him before Mary or Donald. Vain reasoning. Little did she know how her very looks and pretended indifference betrayed more fully the state of her mind to the more practised eye of her maid; and this evening, in listening to the music, that she more than formerly extolled the beautiful pibroch, and Donald's excellence in giving it more justice than any other piper; but above all, the bright hue of her cheeks, and the brilliant light of her eyes, when noticing some object opposite in Charlie's room, with something like a spyglass levelled at her.
Mary was indeed correct in her conjectures, for Charlie paid his visit to Mr. McKay that evening as usual on his arrival from the University.
What conversation had taken place between himself and Bella on that occasion we know not; however, this much came to our knowledge, that when Charlie had taken his leave of Mr. McKay, Bella met him (I suppose accidentally) in the lobby, and that the young student promised to shoot a brace of ptarimgan in Ben Mòr next morning, provided the young lady met him at the bridge of Linn to receive the same. Hence the unfortunate recountre, detailed in the first chapter, which was mainly attributable to Mary Grant's prying black eyes, and prevented her modest young mistress trusting her, as usual, in her company, particularly as she expected to meet a certain young gentleman with game. We also suspect that the same reasons sent Donald Munro to the post-office on that morning instead of accompanying his young master as formerly to Ben Mòr.