Inchbracken: The Story of a Fama Clamosa

by Robert Cleland

  CHAPTER XII.

  _INCHBRACKEN_.

  The rest of the party stumbled and groped their way slowly down thehill, Peter and Mary endeavouring to follow the voices of those infront, and shouting to them from time to time.

  By and by, when they came to more level ground, another shout reachedthem through the gloom.

  'Ah! there is your mother!' said Mary, and shouted her loudest. 'Butwe cannot go to them, or we will miss the guide.'

  The sound of hoofs was now heard, and the crack of a gun fired as asignal, and presently a mounted figure loomed up in the mist.

  'Captain Drysdale!' said Peter.

  'Mr. Sangster! and a lady! Miss Brown, you had better get on my pony.He will save you a good many stumbles.' So saying, he dismounted andlifted her on the saddle.

  When people meet in the mist, and are hastening after an invisibleguide, there is no time for ceremonious speeches. Mary was mounted andKenneth leading the pony, before she had made up her mind whether sheshould accept his proffer or not.

  'You may trust Dandy, Miss Mary; he never stumbles, and he willovertake the rest of your party sooner than you could.' But here theirpath ended in rock and precipice.

  'We are at the bottom, climb straight down,' came up out of the abyss.'It is not difficult, and we will wait for you.'

  Peter began to descend.

  'I know where we are,' said Captain Drysdale. 'If Miss Brown willtrust herself to my guidance, I will bring her round these cliffswithout her needing to dismount, and we, with the pony's help, willreach the inn before you, so do not be uneasy, Mr. Sangster;' andbefore Mary or Peter could express an opinion, the pony had turned,and they were swallowed up in the mist.

  The pony broke into a jog trot, and Kenneth ran by his side. Shortlythey came upon a path which zigzagged easily down hill, but tendedmore and more to the left. Kenneth fired again, and shortly ananswering report came up from the depths below. The pony mended hispace at the answering signal, and it was not very long before theycame on General Drysdale with a gillie or two and a couple of ponies.It was the spot where he had agreed with his friends to meet forluncheon, if the mist had not put an end to their sport.

  'So, Kenneth, you have found the people you heard shouting. What! alady, and alone?' The old gentleman advanced to welcome the newarrival.

  'Miss Mary Brown! To meet you here!'

  'She has been to the top of the hill with Mr. Sangster, and got caughtin the mist. I came on them just as they were on the point ofscrambling down a precipice, and I have promised to take her round bythe road to rejoin them at the inn.'

  'You must be drenched by this drizzling mist, Miss Brown, and it willtake you more than an hour to reach the inn by the road. You had muchbetter accompany us to Inchbracken, where Lady Caroline will becharmed to see you made comfortable, and we will drive you hometo-morrow morning. Here, Duncan! you will find a short cut over thehill. Find Mrs. Sangster at the inn, and tell her, with mycompliments, I have insisted on Miss Brown's remaining at Inchbrackenfor the night. She is too much fatigued and wetted to make it safe forher to go farther to-night.'

  Mary demurred and resisted as well as she could, but the old gentlemanwas somewhat autocratic, and not used to being gainsaid on his ownland. Her remonstrances were over-ruled or disregarded, and she had tosubmit, with no great reluctance after all, for she was chilledmiserably, and thoroughly wet, and the prospect of an hour's rideending in the make-shift drying to be obtained at a wayside inn wasnot very alluring. Having exchanged her wet shawl for a dry plaid anda mackintosh, she found herself riding along the hill track at a briskpace, the General on one side and Kenneth on the other, the men havingorders to remain and fire their guns occasionally till Captain Johnand his friends should reach the rendezvous.

  It was later that afternoon when Miss Julia Finlayson entered thehousekeeper's room at Inchbracken. In her character of young lady, ifnot daughter of the house, she had taken on herself the care of itsfloral decoration, a matter less generally thought of thirty years agothan now, and therefore even less to be entrusted to the servants. Shehad made the round of the conservatories, and carried on her arm alarge basket of flowers to be arranged in vases which William thefootman was then bringing in. There she found the lady's maidpreparing tea to carry up-stairs.

  'Has Lady Caroline a headache, Mrs. Briggs? I do wish she would varythe dissipation a little. Tea before getting up!--more tea atbreakfast!--tea before dressing for dinner, and tea after dinneragain! Why will Dr. Pilcox not intervene, and save her poor nerves?But nobody ever does venture to advise rich people till it is toolate. But tea after luncheon as well! I almost think I must take uponme to suggest a little Madeira, unless the headache is very severe.

  'La! Miss Finlayson! The tea is for a young lady just arrived. Did younot know? She have rid up with General Drysdale and the Capting all ina titty tit. And my lady, far from being poorly, is quite set up andlively about having a stranger to entertain this drizzly afternoon,and indeed, Miss, she have made us all pooty lively upstairs with somany orders. Rooms to prepare--a hot bath--tea--and all the younglady's things to be dried. For indeed she had not a dry stitch to sitdown in. And oh! such tears and tatters along of her having beenclimbing hills and precipices in the mist, and the Capting bringingher home safe and sound--for my lady says it is most remarkable. Buthow she is agoing to go down to dinner in that black stuff dress Iconfess I do not understand. Seeing as how she appears a sweet younglady indeed, and it would be a pity if she were not properly dressed,and she an old friend of the family, as I could see by my lady. Thoughshe has not been here before in my time. But here comes Mrs. Kipperherself; no doubt she knows the young lady--'

  'Hoot!' responded the housekeeper, 'it's juist auld Doctor Brown'sdaughter. I've kenned the lassie sin' she could rin. My lady wouldoften have her mother up from the manse, and she would be sent downhere to me, and the young laird with her, to keep them out ofmischief, and two bonnie bairns they were, and unco couthie; andthinks I to mysel', I'm wonderin' will my leddy ever rue the way thecastle and the manse have forgathered. And I wad no say but theCaptain may have a kindness for Miss Mary yet. I thought her brother,with his Free Kirk havers and his goin' clean against the master'swishes, would have peuten sic notions out of his head. But there's notellin'. They're dour chields the Drysdales, that kenna how to let go;and if our young Captain has wance ta'en the notion, they may savetheir breath to cool their parritch, that would gainsay him. He'llgang his ain gate.'

  Julia heard it all, while with her scissors she snipped the ends ofher flower stalks, and arranged her nosegays. In her role ofaffability and general good nature with the household, her presenceimposed no restraint on those confidential servants; in fact, itrather stimulated them to talk, and show how much at heart they hadthe interests of the family, and how well they understood whatever wasgoing on. It suited her to know whatever was to be thus picked up, solong as it could be done without betraying unseemly curiosity, and shewas much too wise to compromise herself by putting questions to adomestic; but this intelligence was far from welcome to her, and whatwas worse, Mrs. Kipper's speculations were but confirmation of her ownfears.

  A gentlewoman of slender means, and with no near relations, she had tomake her own way in the world and effect a lodgment in it somewhere bythe aid of such wits as relenting nature had bestowed, when shewithheld the brute strength that is given to vulgar humanity. In fact,my poor Julia was, I fear, something of a schemer. Is it not shocking?

  And yet, dear lady, if I may ask--how long would that charming candourand transparency of soul, not to speak of the high-spiritedindependence of character, which so delight your friends, survive, ifyou had to depend on the hospitality of some one, whom no social lawordained to offer it? We must all eat three times a day if possible,and those who have no money themselves must arrange that some one elsewho has, shall pay for the dinner, or worse will come of it.Inchbracken had been the oyster offered by fortune
to Julia, and verywell she had acquitted herself in the task of opening it. Friends andevery comfort she had been able to achieve thereby, with everyprospect of their continuance so long as her kinswoman should survive.But then good things of life are not enough, so soon at least as theyare once secured. Man is not an oyster, whatever his remote ancestorsmay have been, nor woman either; and as regards ancestors, withoutimpugning the oyster's claim, if we are to infer anything from anever-failing hereditary trait, a place should be found somewhere inthe pedigree for the horseleech; all human desire, aim, aspiration,may be expressed by the one simple formula--'a little more.' With thatahead and within view, how contentedly we can struggle along, and withhow little! Progress is what we need to make us happy. Julia wasbecoming less young each day, and she was still unwed. No suitor hadappeared, but while her kinsman remained single she had still lookedforward with some confidence in her own skill and good fortune. Thatgood fortune had sent Kenneth abroad when Mary Brown appeared to begetting dangerous, and had given herself the opportunity to slide intointimate correspondence with him as a substitute for his indolentmother. Again kind fortune had intervened in removing the Browns fromthe scene before Kenneth's return, and in involving them in suchdisfavour as to remove all danger of their being invited to the house.Then, too, she had aimed her own little shaft to aggravate thealienation by clouding his fair fame with insinuations of adisreputable scandal.

  If she could but have left her ears in the housekeeper's room when shewent up stairs she would have learned how successful had been herlittle device to make people entangle their ideas, by acceptingjuxtaposition for connection, and thereby mistaking, like theirhostess, the _post hoc_ for the _propter hoc_. William coming for thedinner bouquets while the confidential talk was in progress, was ableto contribute his quota to it by repeating the appalling facts andsurmises which his friends on the moor had discussed the previousSunday, and which, in fact, had been started by himself, though hismemory had failed to record that circumstance. The lady's maid raisedher eyes to the ceiling, and declared that 'she never----,' while thehousekeeper was 'thankful Roderick's godly father was safe in heaven,or it would have killed him outright.' In due time all this wouldfilter upwards to Lady Caroline's ears, and yet what would it avail toJulia? Here was Mary already in the house. A fog on the hill had beenable to undo all that Fortune and herself had been able to effect intwo years time, as the blundering broom of a housemaid will carry awayat one sweep the cobwebs that have been weeks in spinning. Mary Brownin the house, and Kenneth at her side for a whole evening--but atleast she would be true to herself, and not yield till she wasdefeated. Mary would be at a disadvantage in more respects than one,certainly as regards dress, and also in accomplishments and knowledgeof the world. Mary on the other hand had youth, but then, as Juliatold herself, youth means rawness, and 'I won't give in yet!' sheadded, 'I must go to her now to reconnoitre, and behave my veryprettiest, and that will at least keep her upstairs till the dressingbell rings.'

  So thinking, she entered Lady Caroline's sitting-room with herflowers.

  'Oh, Julia! such pretty flowers! What should I do without your kindclever fingers to brighten my room for me? Have you seen the visitormy General has brought me? But of course not. She is bathing anddressing, and what not. The poor child seemed actually dripping whenGeneral Drysdale brought her in;--found her in the mist! Away up onCraig Findochart. I have handed her over to Briggs, and by and by Ihope she will be able to see us. So nice to have somebody arrive thisdismal afternoon. I really felt too dawny even to open the new bookbox from London, and as for my knitting, the stitches wouldn't countsomehow, and that fool Briggs went and dropped some of them in tryingto put it right, and altogether the appearance of a new face has madea most pleasing variety. You remember Mary Brown, of course,--a nicelittle girl, and very like her poor mother. A great friend of mine hermother was--a most dear woman. I believe I miss her sadly still,sometimes. In fact, I always do miss the Browns when I see the newpeople that have come to the manse,--not, my dear, that I would haveyou imagine I could undervalue any clergyman of our national church.Indeed, I consider it an honour to be able to contribute to itswell-being in these levelling times, when if we who have a stake inthe country do not support the Church, we shall have the State tootumbling in about our ears. Those dreadful levellers seem to reverencenothing, wanting to repeal the Corn Laws, and to call their dissentingmeeting-places churches! and putting steeples on them, and actuallyringing bells. What is to become of the British constitution if everydissenting chapel is to have a steeple and call itself a church, andring a bell? As my dear General says sometimes, I think the floodgates must be opening. If it was only the English chapels, it would beof less consequence. You know my brother Pitthevlis is anEpiscopalian, and I belonged to that Church till my marriage (theDrysdales have always held to the Establishment and the RevolutionSettlement), not to mention that it is the Established form across theBorder; but that every little gathering of impudent seceder bodies isto hang up its kettle and deave the whole parish, whenever it wishesto say its prayers, I consider it most improper, and neither to theglory of God or man. And therefore, my dear, I would be mostscrupulous in paying the clergy every attention. Still, when I askedMrs. Snodgrass and her children to come up and eat strawberries onesummer's day, you may remember it, I could not but think of poor dearMrs. Brown, and miss her sadly. I think in future I shall _send_ mystrawberries to Mrs. Snodgrass. I believe she would rather eat them athome, and I know _I_ shall prefer it. Then it was so convenient in Dr.Brown's time, whenever a gentleman was required to make up the numberat dinner, he would come so obligingly on the shortest notice, and beso useful in the conversation;--a most accomplished man, my dear. Butthis Mr. Snodgrass is different, dining out does not appear to be hisforte; though he is a most excellent man, and I am sure we ought toappreciate him highly. But, as I was saying, this little Mary Brownwas always a favourite of mine--a nice, quiet, soft little thing, andso bright and pretty, just like one of your charming posies there, andquite a relief on a grey colourless afternoon like this. But here isBriggs to say Miss Brown is ready to receive us. Come.'

  They passed into an adjoining apartment, where, seated in an elbowchair by the fire, was Mary. She was wrapped in a large whitepeignoir, and her hair, gathered in a knot behind, had partly escapedfrom the comb, and fell in a stream of sunny brown across hershoulders.

  'Mary, my dear, keep your seat, and try to get rested,' said LadyCaroline. 'Why, child, how like your mother you grow! and so pretty! Iwas so fond of your mother, my dear, and you remind me of her. I hopethey have attended to you, and brought you whatever you want. Be sureand ask Briggs for anything that has been forgotten.'

  And so she went on in a continuous monody, while the younger womenlistened; for, when Lady Caroline felt disposed to talk, she gavelittle heed to what was said by any one else, but followed the tangledthread of her own ideas, never doubting but they must be asinteresting to persons of lower degree, as she found them herself. AnEarl's daughter, and of a historical house, she deemed nothing soreverent as its traditional glories, and insisted with graciouspertinacity on the full measure of deference according thereto; andthere is little doubt that when in after years she was duly gatheredto her noble fathers, it would not have been the 'Law and theTestimony,' but the tables of precedence that would have been foundgraven on her heart. In one house at the other end of the county shehad been led out to dinner behind the daughter of a more recentcreation, but she had never crossed that threshold since, nor were theoffenders ever again permitted to share in the festivities ofInchbracken.

  'Well, girls, here comes Briggs with my tea, so I shall leaveyou to your own chit-chat; it will be half-an-hour yet before thedressing-bell rings.'

  Julia drew her seat nearer to the fire, and spread her hands to thecheerful blaze: like the cats, she loved warmth.

  'It seems long since we have met, Miss Brown. One never sees you inthis neighbourhood now, though you are still so near. Pray, how do youlike y
our new way of life? I heard a gentleman say, not long ago, thatas it was on spiritual grounds you left Kilrundle, you would no doubtfeel you were advancing, and becoming more like the spirits, in so farat least as being able to live in several houses at once goes. Fromwhat we hear, you live all over the village at Glen Effick,--a sort ofubiquity, in short. But perhaps 'living' is too gross a name for thatsort of thing; 'pervade' has a more spiritual sound, only it does notsuggest much in the way either of bed or dinner. Do you like it?'

  Mary raised her eyes enquiringly to the other's face. Did she mean tobe impertinent? And why?

  'A woman lives with her natural protector, Miss Finlayson. Wherever mybrother fixes his home, if he chooses to share it with me, of course Ishall like it.'

  Julia's eyelids winced. She had a rheumatic old aunt who lived in asea-side village all the winter with a solitary maid, and who was wontto disappear in spring, when some family from an inland town wouldrent her cottage for the summer. With this ancient relative, Julia hadbeen thankful to take up her abode when the demise of her parents lefther homeless, and her own small income, added to that of the old lady,had made a better provision for both. Circumstances had changed sincethen. When Lady Caroline found she wanted a companion, Juliarecognised the greater congeniality of a wealthy household. The oldaunt might talk of ingratitude, but she was quietly dropped, and LadyCaroline enthroned in her 'heart' as nearest of kin. Julia'sconscience, however, was not a troublesome organ, and Mary could havemeant no retaliating shot, since she had never heard of the aunt; soshe continued as though Mary had not spoken.

  'And now you have extended your pervading presence to CraigFindochart! What a strange choice! You do not expect to do good tosouls up there, do you?'

  'Oh, Miss Finlayson, pray don't! I never was clever at understandingdrolleries, and it pains me to hear sacred things lightly mentioned.But if you want to know how I came there, it is simple enough. Mr.Sangster has her son and another gentleman on a visit, and I have beenstaying there for a few days. We made a party to Findochart to showthe stranger the view, the mist came down when we were on the top ofthe hill, we lost our way and were all scattered, General Drysdalefound me and kindly insisted on bringing me here. It seems all naturalenough when you come to know it, does it not?'

  'Quite natural, dear, and very nice. Pray, forgive my poor, poorlittle joke. You remember my foolish fondness for being lively, ortrying, at least; for it is not easily done in the lonely country lifewe lead here. Oh, why will Lady Caroline not improve her health by anautumn at Baden Baden? Pray now, tell me the news, since you arestaying at a house full of visitors. Young Sangster is home, is he?Home for the holidays, one might say, for he is duller than many aschoolboy. But his friend. Tell me about _him_--what is he like! Rich,I suppose, or mamma would not endanger Miss Sophia's peace of mind byhis presence. He will be eligible from an Auchlippie point of view,and if that is not a very ornamental one, at least it is pretty solid.Old MacSiccar, the writer, dined with the General last week, and hespoke of old Sangster as one of the warmest men hereabouts. So, mydear, you might do worse than go in for gaukie Peter. I half meditatea descent myself, only it would be a long run over a very heavycountry, as a Leicestershire friend of mine phrases it. But tell meabout the friend. Is he nice? The two shot with Captain John yesterdayover Whauprigg moor, and they were expected for dinner, but there wassome mistake about dressing bags, so we ladies never saw them. CousinKenneth says they are horrid cads both, but then his regiment are aparcel of supercilious puppies, so we need not mind that. What is thefriend's name?'

  'Wallowby.'

  'Don't like the sound of it. Is he moderately nice? and is he rich?'

  'They say he is very rich indeed, and has more in expectation from abachelor uncle--a mill owner.'

  'Ah! Those mill owners are tremendous people. And is he nice?'

  'Really I don't know--That is a matter of taste.'

  'Well, does he please your taste, Miss Precision?'

  'I find him very polite and attentive, more so indeed than I care for.I think fussy people are apt to put me out, and it seems difficult toconverse with him. I suppose my being Scotch prevents my knowing thethings he talks best about.'

  'And has Miss Sophia made an impression, do you think? Or is sheimpressed herself?'

  'Indeed I don't know.'

  'Ah! forgive me. I am so forgetful, but you know I mean no harm. Iremember now, there is some _tendresse_ between your brother and her.She certainly is handsome, and I hope he will get her if he wishes it,though, _entre nous_, she always struck me as a dull girl. Like awedding cake, only good to look at.'

  Here Briggs knocked and entered, with a bundle of white roses, eachflushing into pinkish creaminess at the heart.

  'With Captain Drysdale's compliments for Miss Brown.'

  'Poor Colewort!' cried Julia, with just a thrill of viciousness in hervoice, 'there go his hopes of a prize at the flower show next week! Iknow he has been nursing that rose for weeks past. For all that, MissBrown, they will go nicely with your black gown, so I shall leave younow to embellish yourself with the poor man's broken hopes--Patheticsentiment that? Ha! ha!'