CHAPTER XI.
_AN EXCURSION_.
Mrs. Sangster decided that Mr. Wallowby ought to see something of thecountry during his stay. An excursion was planned, and to introducesome appearance of novelty into the party, the Rev. Roderick wassummoned to join the expedition.
It was an early September morning when they started from Auchlippie.Peter drove the phaeton, and his friend sat beside him on the box.Inside were the ladies and the minister, in his quality of priest, orone of the third sex, which, as though not either male or female,possesses all the claims to deference of both, and owes the duties ofneither. Roderick sat in the back seat beside his hostess, while thetwo young ladies faced him. The two gentlemen on the box looked backfrom time to time with some remark which was gaily responded to by theladies, and Roderick occasionally joined in with a quiet jest. Thepresence of Sophia filled his mind with happiness too deep formerriment, and there she sat before him in full view.
Sophia being a placid person abounding in the beauty of repose, hadworked her spell upon him more by looks, which he had interpreted intosympathy, and what he chose to imagine the beauty of her virgin soul,than by anything she had ever said. Looking in her eyes he had dreamtof all that was loveliest and then fancied he saw it there. AnotherNarcissus, he had gazed in their crystal depths, and, mistaking hisown reflection for the spirit of the flood, had fallen in love withit.
It made little matter to him that they were in the midst of a merrycompany, he could sun himself in the presence that was so much of hisown creating all the same, and save that he was more silent than atother times, no one could have observed any departure from his usualbearing. Sophia was aware of his mute observance, and thought it 'verynice,' she was used to it, and it required from her no irksome effortin response, which, as her thinking part was neither imaginative noremotional, and somewhat sluggish besides, was comfortable. Thecontrast between Roderick's quiet and the lively loquacity of Mr.Wallowby, told all in favour of the former; for although Mary and hermother with their greater readiness relieved her from the necessity ofreply, it was mortifying thus to realize her own slowness, and shefound the constant smiling and laughter over jests whose point she hadmissed, fatiguing to her facial muscles, and at last she took refugein a private chat with Roderick as to whether he thought the day wouldkeep fine and such like weighty matters.
Loch Gorton and Inchbracken. Page 79.]
They drove across the upland moors and the ridge dividing Glen Effickfrom the neighbouring valley of the Gorton, and down Gorton side towhere it spreads into the lake of the same name. At that point it iscrossed by a bridge, the road passing an old posting inn which looksdown the loch, and is backed by Craig Findochart, the highest mountainof the district, and the goal of the day's expedition.
Loch Gorton is a basin among the hills, deep and narrow at its upperend, but broadening and shallowing towards its base. It fills themouth of a valley whose precipitous slopes crowd down upon the waterat its head, but draw back in lessening and ever-widening undulationsfrom the lower end. Near the outlet is the broad low island ofInchbracken, connected with the mainland by a narrow neck of land.Here in the old time stood the castle of the Drysdales, commanding theisthmus, which they cut across and commanded by a drawbridge. The moatis filled up now, and the square old keep, ivy-grown and ruinous, hassunk into a mere picturesque feature in the shrubbery of the modernmansion.
Leaving their phaeton at the Bridge of Gorton Inn, the party secured aguide, and proceeded to ascend the hill. A steep footpath led acrossseveral enclosed fields, and brought them through a stretch of oakcopsewood to a track of open pasture, whence they could look down onthe lake spread out at their feet, while the great purple mountainreared its steep shoulders above them, swelling in broad sweeps ofheath backward and upward to the beetling crags far up, thrustingtheir jagged outlines into the sky, and shutting out the climber fromthe distant summit.
The belt of pasture past, climbing began in earnest. The shaggyheather was knee deep in many places, and every here and there therocky knuckles of the mountain projected through the peaty soil.
The party began to straggle. Mary, sound of wind and limb,light-footed and active, was in front with the guide. Peter andWallowby toiled closely behind, the latter showing the first signs ofdistress in shortening breath, and handkerchief applied occasionallyto his brow. Mrs. Sangster followed in steady mechanical fashion. Herfifty odd summers had no doubt impaired the elasticity of her frame,but had left behind a fund of tough endurance and sturdy will, whichdid very well in its stead. Sophia and Roderick brought up the rear,the coolest and calmest of the party. Her fine physique made theexertion both light and pleasant, and her tranquil soul supplied awellspring of inward coolness, which even hill-climbing was unable tooverheat, while Roderick by her side among the sunshine and theever-widening view, walked on air, held forth at will, and dreamedaloud in words overflowingly; while his placid companion smiled andlooked at him out of her beautiful eyes, listening, and sometimesunderstanding what he said. The path became steeper after a while, andMrs. Sangster stopped to take breath, looking around the while for theothers.
Mary and the young men were perched upon a rock high over her head,and when she looked down Roderick and Sophia came calmly followingher. It seemed too much that Mary should monopolize not only Peter(though that was well enough), but also the wealthy party fromManchester, who had been sent by Providence, as she still thought, toopen a larger sphere of usefulness to her daughter; meaning really, ifself-delusion would ever let us speak plainly to ourselves, a carriageand pair and a handsome establishment. The ice between the two hadbeen hard to break, what better way could there be to thaw it, thanthe small difficulties and adventures of a mountain ramble? And herethe stupid girl was letting her opportunity escape, and trifling itaway with a young man whom she could beckon to her side any day, andcould always fall back upon if more ambitious aims did not succeed. Amore worldly or a more single-minded mamma would no doubt have spokenplainly to her daughter, and so might have influenced that not veryperspicuous person more effectually, but Mrs. Sangster had themisfortune to be looking two ways at once, or like the boatman in the_Pilgrim's Progress_, she looked one way while she pulled the other.She loved and appreciated the good things of the world, as thoroughlyas any one, but at the same time she was wont to say, and to reallythink that she thought they were a snare, or dross, in comparison withhigher interests. She could not bring her tongue to frame such adviceto her daughter as would in any way derogate from true religion, orthe old-fashioned 'true, true love,' she had thought and sang of inher own youth. She could only suggest and influence in a half-ashamedsort of way. But she was disappointed and mortified that adaughter of hers should be so wanting in common sense. After all theadvantages of her upbringing, how came it that she should fail of thatwell-regulated mind, which, seeing both sides of a question, can bothsay what is 'nice' in regard to the higher, and at the same timefollow the more profitable. The thing requires a little casuistry, butit must be of the unspoken kind. It cannot be decently uttered, soeach must work it out alone in those secret chambers of the brain,where not the prying eye of conscience even may intrude. Any one wouldfeel annoyed at a carefully and expensively-educated daughter throwingherself away, and all the proud hopes that have been formed for her,on a poor match; yet openly to preach the mercenary would be infamy.So felt Mrs. Sangster, and she was greatly disturbed; for hers wasvirtue of the uncomfortable, rather than of the heroic kind,--it couldnot make her choose the better way, but it would reproach her if shefollowed the worse. As for Sophia, her mother wronged her if shesuspected her of unwisely preferring the good to the profitable. Shewas only dull. Money and all it could buy would, she felt, bedelightful to have, but she did not feel equal to winning it. Roderickhad looked and succumbed to her beauty, and it would be very pleasantif Mr. Wallowby would do likewise; it would be grand,--and no personalpreference should prevent her making her fortune; but if Mr
. Wallowbywas only to be captured by something she was to do, she resigned theidea at once; she felt she could do nothing, and the very idea ofdoing anything to win his regard made her ashamed, which was whatmight have been expected. If people will bring up their girls to behigh-minded and good, they have no right to expect scheming andmeanness from them after they are grown.
'Oh, Mr. Roderick,' said Mrs. Sangster, 'I fear I must ask you to takepity on an old woman. This climbing is hot work, with the sun beatingdown so on my old back. I can bear the weight of my shawl no longer.If there was only a breeze! But the air seems stagnant, and my oldlimbs are not what they once were.'
'We have only to get a very little higher now to have wind enough,'said Roderick, doubling the shawl on his arm. 'See Mr. Wallowby'shandkerchief up there how it blows about. If you will accept a littleassistance over this steep place, you will soon reach the coolerlevel.'
'Sophia!' continued the mother, 'I believe that guide will break abottle, or something, the way he swings the basket about. Pray bid himtake care or we shall have a dry luncheon to eat when we get to thetop of the hill,--there will be no water up there. It makes me quitenervous to look at him.'
So Sophia was despatched in advance while the older lady made aleisurely survey of the prospect at her feet.
'A beautiful place Inchbracken, with its woods spreading out beyondthe island and rolling away into the distance, and the steeple ofKilrundle church rising from among them. Dives with his good things,and Lazarus with his evil things! You must feel thankful to havechosen the better part, Mr. Roderick.'
'I feel no misgiving about my choice whatever, but I hope there is noreason to look on General Drysdale as another Dives. Difference inpeople's circumstances, shows things in so different a light.'
'Ah! my young friend, charity is good, but it must be according toknowledge.'
'But, Mrs. Sangster, the General is a most worthy man, a kind masterand a good landlord, and an honourable gentleman.'
'I will not say, Mr. Roderick, that his hands are red with the bloodof the saints, because it has not been left in his power to take thelives of the Lord's people; but he has been very bitter against theFree Church. We may fairly include him among the persecutors, drivingus forth to worship God according to our conscience, on the barehill-side, and refusing us a stance to build our church on any part ofhis property. Now, I have always said, that that open place facingInchbracken gate is where our new church should stand. There it couldtestify before the very walls of the Erastian temple, instead of beinghuddled away in the corner of widow Forester's kale-yard.'
'But how would you like a Roman Catholic or even an Episcopal Chapelset down opposite your own gate at Auchlippie?'
'Mr. Roderick! Popery and Prelacy! To hear you evening our truescriptural protesting Free Church to the Babylonish apostacy, withtheir white gowns, and their organs, and their traditions of men! Ifear there's a leaven of latitudinarianism among you younger men. Youshould follow the staunch old lights like Mr. Dowlas, to steady yourprinciples. How you can recall the doings of Archbishop Sharp, andspeak lightly of Episcopacy, is what I can't comprehend!'
They had now reached the last steep ascent which ended on the summit.This left the old lady no spare breath to hold forth, and she was gladto catch hold of Roderick's arm to assist in pulling herself up thenearly vertical slope. The wind-swept cairn at the top was at lengthreached, and, notwithstanding her late complaints, Mrs. Sangster wasforced to shelter herself from the keen breeze, under its lee, and toresume the shawl she had discarded.
Craig Findochart rises high over the surrounding hills especiallytowards the east. On that side they gradually diminish and die away inthe belt of cultivation that borders the sea. To the north is a narrowglen running down into a fertile strath well-wooded and watered by ariver of some size; beyond, the lofty Highland mountains toss theirbattered summits in the air, a very sea of emulously-surging peaks.Westward it is mountainous again but more various. The eye travels farup more than one winding strath, while glancing lakes shine out everyhere and there among the greys and purples of mountain and moor.Southward the view is narrower and loses itself in haze, a greynesswhich rises indistinctly from the distant country, but when oncefairly launched in heaven, swells and curls and rears itself into vastwhite battlements of cloud, and drifts before the wind shining andluminous, like some great iceberg in a transparent sea.
Having surveyed the view, the party sought such shelter from thechilling breeze as was attainable, on the leeward slope, and proceededto rest and refresh themselves, after their fatigues; the old lady,with some elation at having climbed the hill as cleverly as theyoungest, doing the honours of her provision basket with garruloushospitality, while the others reclined on the scanty herbage withinfinite zeal. The warmth gained by exercise withstood the sharp upperair, whose biting keenness felt only bracing and exhilarating to thosetoilers upward from the airless heat below; but after half an hourthey had parted with the surplus heat gained by exertion, and began tofeel distinctly cold. There seemed a failing too in the brightness ofthe light, except over the distant sea, which still glittered crispand bright in unclouded sunshine. A wan greyness seemed to be stealingover the landscape, not as when passing clouds dapple the view withwell defined blocks of shadow, but rather a diffused withdrawal ofwarmth and light all undefined and vague, but ever deepening like thestealthy advances of sickness or death upon a living thing. Lookingupwards they now for the first time observe great vaporous arms andwreaths extending over their heads and stretching out towards thestill bright heavens in the north-east. Turning round they find theoutlook completely obliterated. The shining cloud-masses of an hourbefore in the south-west have drifted down upon them, and are nownothing but curling wreaths of cold damp mist, seething and twisting,but ever downward and onward. They seem scarcely to have descriedoverhead its first advancing arms ere it has descended on them andlapped them from the world in cold damp greyness, above, below, andall around them. From far down the hill ascends the report of a gun,and by and by another, telling them that others besides themselves areon the mountain, and that they are still upon firm ground; but forthat they might be anywhere or nowhere, the mist hems them in utterly,the very ground they stand on becomes indistinct, and they stretchtheir arms to touch each other and make sure they are not each alone.They gather close together standing perfectly still, a step in anydirection may precipitate them they know not whither, and the dampclammy vapour creeps close about them soaking hair and clothing, andchilling them to the bone.
'It is only a cloud and will soon pass,' some one says; so they agreeit will be safer to wait than to attempt a descent not knowing wheretheir next step may carry them. They huddle closely together and watchand shiver; at one moment it seems growing lighter overhead, andglimmerings of the bright sky shine through, but anon a surging wreathdrifts up, and the promising rift closes in again denser than before.
For more than an hour they stood thus afraid to move, stiffening andshivering in the cold. The day was passing, but the mist showed nosign of rising; on the contrary it grew thicker and more wetting, andthe idea of spending the night where they were, began to presentitself as a possibility unless they made a bold venture to move. Todie of cold where they were, appeared a certainty if they remained,while there was at least a hope of escape, in tempting the uncertaindangers of the descent.
Wallowby being a stranger was told to keep hold of the guide, andSophia was entrusted to their joint care. Mary and Peter having bothsome knowledge of the hills and the country followed next, whileRoderick who had often shot over the ground, undertook to pilot theold lady. The three groups were to keep together as well as theycould, and by constant shouting they hoped to keep within each other'sken.
With infinite care, groping and feeling around at every step, theycommenced to descend, the grey obscurity swallowing them up, andconcealing each group from the others. The voices seemed muffled bythe fog, but they enabled them still to hold together.
Down they wen
t, stumbling over loose stones, clambering down rocks andslipping among the heather now dripping with moisture, Mrs. Sangstervowing it should be her last expedition of the kind, if ever she gotsafe to 'bigget land' again.
'Hold more to the left!' shouted the guide, an injunction which Mrs.Sangster hastened to obey, though still very far from the point it wasmeant to apply to and thereby found herself on a steep rock face,where she was compelled to turn round, and grasping the heather bushesabove, to step gingerly backwards, down into the unknown.
'Oh! Mr. Roderick, this is awful!'
'Another step and you will come to level foothold again.'
'Oh! but I can't; I am caught in something. There it goes--and now Ihave lost my gold spy-glass, something has caught the chain and brokenit. Oh, Mr. Roderick! will you help me to find it! I shall never beable to read my psalm-book on Sunday, if I lose it. Oh dear! oh dear!what an old fool I have been. Skemmeling over Findochart like anine-year old!'
Roderick shouted to the others to wait, but the cry lost itself in themist, or was misunderstood. The voices from below came up fainter andfainter, and finally they were heard no more.
The search for the 'spy-glass' occupied some time, and all theirattention, but eventually it was found within a foot or two of wherethey stood, and it was not till then that they discovered they werealone on the hillside. Roderick shouted till he was hoarse, but therecame no response, and it became evident they must shift forthemselves.
'Most disgraceful conduct! such heartlessness! To think that PeterSangster, my own son, whom I have sat up with, and nursed throughmeasles and hooping-cough, till my back was like to break, should draghis old mother up here among the clouds, and then desert her!' andhere the old lady began to whimper, but took care to make the'spy-glass' secure in some inner receptacle of her dress.
Roderick suggested that it was getting late, and that by making hastethey might yet overtake the runaways.
'I hope we may. But who knows? They may have fallen over a precipice,and be lying maimed and mangled at the bottom. Oh dear! it may be daysbefore they are found. My poor Sophia! that would have looked so wellriding about Manchester in her own carriage! She may have broken herneck, or disfigured herself for life! lying bruised and bleeding on aheap of stones. And the crows come and pick at people, they tell me,when they are too much hurt to drive them away. Oh dear, oh dear!
Her active mind conjured up every imaginable horror, till, distractedby the pictures of her own invention, she lifted up her voice and weptsore.
Roderick stood by powerless, and eventually silent. Each word ofconsolation served but to start her imagination on a new track ofsuggestions more frightful than the last, so he held his peace andwaited. Tears brought relief in time, and now fear for herself tookthe place of more fanciful terrors.
'Oh, come away, Roderick!' she cried, 'what are you standing therefor?--glowering at nothing! Come away!'
The descent proceeded. And now they were on an extended flat,undulating in all directions, and lying between the steep ascent tothe summit and the declivity which sloped to the next level below.Without the guidance afforded by continuous descent, they found verysoon that they had completely lost their way, and could form no ideaof what direction they were moving in.
'I thought you had often shot over this hill, and knew it well,Roderick Brown, or I would never have trusted myself in your hands;but it seems to me you know nothing about it. I'm thinkin' we maywander about here all night, for anything _you_ can do to bring ushome. So I am just going to sit down till the Lord sends us help!Home! I'll never see home again; and a sorrowful woman I am, that Iever set out on this fool's errand!'
'We must do as I have had to do more than once before, Mrs. Sangster,when I got befogged in the hills, follow a stream of runningwater--the first we can find. The water will find its way downsomewhere, and will bring us to a house eventually, though it may takeus through some difficult places.'
A burn was by-and-by found, and they set themselves to follow itscourse wherever that might lead, like the clue by which some deviouslabyrinth is disentangled. It led through swampy places sometimes, andsometimes tumbled downward among rocks and under high banks, but theywere already so wet that walking in its bed where the sides were toocraggy and difficult made small difference, and after clamberingdownwards for more than an hour, they were rejoiced by the barking ofa dog some distance below them.
'Do you hear that? Mrs. Sangster; I think we are nearing a habitationat last!'
Mrs. Sangster drew a long breath, and stood upright to listen; lettinggo her hold of the bushes by whose help she was scrambling down in thebed of the burn. The rock she stood on was slippery. On changing herpoise her feet slid from under her, and with a scream, and aclattering of stones, she shot forward and downward upon hercompanion, landing them both in a pool of water.
'Oh, Roderick Brown! You'll be the death of me! How dare you try yourcantrips on a woman old enough to be your mother? Dragging me throughbogs and down precipices, and ducking me in burns till I haven't a drystitch on my back, or an easy bone in my body! I'll have ye up beforethe presbytery for a graceless loon! Oh, laddie! never mind what Isay. My head's just going round and round, I think I'm demented! Layme on the bank to drip--and let me die in peace! I can go no further.'
"She shot forward and downward upon her companion,landing them both in a pool of water." Page 88.]
'Nonsense, Mrs. Sangster. Just a few steps more! We must be very closeto some shieling now. I declare I can smell the peat reek in the air!Here is a footpath going down the hill--come! let us follow it.'
'Give me your hand, then, for I do not think I have courage left tostand alone, far less walk. Oh! What an experience!'
They reached a shepherd's cottage in a few minutes more, where thewife of Stephen Boague, surrounded by dogs and children, came out toreceive them. Roderick was not sorry to hand over his charge to thegood woman's care, but he would not linger himself, he must hasten tothe inn, though that was three miles off, to learn if the others hadnot arrived there, and if not to send searchers up the mountain afterthem. The mist had changed into a drizzling rain, but he was alreadytoo wet to feel it, and too anxious for the others to have any thoughtfor himself.
Inchbracken: The Story of a Fama Clamosa Page 11