The Pagan's Cup

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XVII

  LORD KILSPINDIE EXPLAINS

  "Before you begin your story, my lord," said the vicar, "will you pleaseinform me how you came to know of the loss of the cup?"

  "I have already done so, Mr Tempest. I saw the advertisement offering areward for its recovery. The description and the quotation of the Latinmotto were sufficient to show me that it was my heirloom. I wrote to theoffice of the paper, and afterwards received a letter from Miss Tempest,here, asking me to call. I have taken up my abode at the inn, as I maystay here for a few days. I want to know all I can about the matter. IfI can only trace and recover the cup through your agency I shall beeternally your debtor."

  "I cannot tell you more than I have related," replied the vicar. "Thisman Pratt took back the cup, and is now in London--where, no one knows.I fear the cup is as lost as though it had been swallowed up by theocean!"

  "It is enough that I know in whose possession it is," said Kilspindie,with determination. "In some way or another I shall find this man. For Imay tell you, Mr Tempest, that, besides the recovery of a familytreasure, I have another and more important object in view--the recoveryof my son, who was stolen from me at the time the cup disappeared."

  Tempest expressed much astonishment at this information, and Sybilopened her eyes wide. She had never thought that her attempt to clearthe character of her lover would lead to such a result. Neither she norher father knew what to say, and, seeing them silent, Lord Kilspindiecontinued to speak.

  "How the cup came into the possession of this man I cannot say. It wastaken from the castle by a nurse called Janet Grant, who also carriedaway the child."

  "Why did she do that?" asked Sybil, horrified.

  "Out of revenge for a fancied slight she received from my wife," repliedKilspindie, with a sigh; "but it is best I should tell you all from thebeginning. First, you must know the legend of the cup, that you mayunderstand the value we Grants attach to its possession."

  "I am fond of folk-lore," murmured the vicar, settling himself down fora pleasant half-hour. "Your family name is Grant, then, my lord?"

  "Yes. Our title is Kilspindie, an earldom. My son who was stolen--myonly son and only child, alas!--is Lord Morven, if he be still alive.But who knows if I shall ever see him again?"

  "Hope for the best," said the vicar, gently. "God is over all!"

  "You are right, Mr Tempest. But how many weary years have I waited, andhave had to comfort myself in that fashion. Now, when I had lost allhope, the advertisement roused it again. If I find the cup I maydiscover my boy, or, at all events, I may find out if he is alive ordead."

  "I am sure he is alive," said Sybil, impulsively. "Dear Lord Kilspindie,if there was no chance of your finding him I should not have been guidedto put in that advertisement. It was entirely my own doing, and had Iconsulted with my father it would never have appeared."

  "It certainly would not," said the vicar, promptly. "I had placed thematter in the hands of Mr Marton, and I was angry when I saw theadvertisement--very angry, indeed."

  "You must not be angry any more, Mr Tempest," said Kilspindie, with asmile, "seeing that it may lead to the discovery of my son. I owe muchto Miss Tempest's indiscretion, as you no doubt call it."

  "No," said Sybil, resolutely; "I am sure papa does not call it that. Idid it to help Leo, and I would do it again. But tell us the legend,Lord Kilspindie."

  The old man laughed. "If you have not the imagination of the Celt youwill think it but a poor thing," he said. "In the days of Bruce, and onthe Border, Nigel Grant, the head of the clan--my ancestor, MrTempest--was riding home from a foray against the English. He had beensuccessful, and had collected a large mob of cattle, which were beingdriven to the castle by his followers. He was anxious to get home, forwhen he had left, two weeks previously, his wife was expected to givebirth to a child. The chief eagerly desired that it might be a boy, forhe had few relatives, and those he had were his bitterest enemies."

  "What!" said Tempest, "and the Scotch so clannish?"

  "They are more clannish in the Highlands than on the Border," repliedthe old lord. "Many of the Border families fought with one another. Myclan did also for many a long day, although they are friendly enoughnow. However, you know the reason that Nigel Grant was so eager for anheir."

  "Wouldn't a girl have done?" asked Sybil mischievously.

  "By no means. The chief wanted a brave boy, to bestride a horse andwield a sword, and govern the unruly Grant clan with a strong hand. Hehad prayed to the Virgin to give him his heart's desire--they were allRoman Catholics in those days, remember. So you may guess he rode homeat top speed, and as he neared the castle he was far in advance of hisfollowers and alone. And then came the fairies."

  "The fairies!" echoed Sybil. "This is interesting," and she laughed.

  "We call them the Good Neighbours in Scotland, you know, because thefairies don't like to be talked about with disrespect. But to go on withmy story. Nigel Grant was on a wide moor all alone, although the lancesof his men-at-arms glittered on the verge of the horizon. Suddenly--fromthe viewless air, apparently, since there was no rock or tree or shelterof any kind--there appeared a small woman dressed in green, with agolden crown. At the sight of her the chief's horse stopped all atonce, as though stricken into stone. The fairy queen--for it was she,the same, I suppose, who appeared to Thomas the Rhymer."

  "Ah! _she_ was mounted on a horse!" said Sybil, half to herself.

  "Indeed? Well, this queen was on foot, and in her arms she carried achild. Stopping before Nigel, she placed the child on his saddle-bow,and told him to take it home for a year and a day. 'If it returns to ussafe and sound,' she continued, 'great good fortune will befall theGrants. But if anything wrong is done to it, then will sorrow come.' Sospeaking she vanished, and the horse, suddenly regaining motion,galloped home to the castle, bearing the amazed chief with his child inhis arms."

  "His child, my lord?" asked the vicar, smiling.

  "It had to be his child for a year and a day. He found that during hisabsence his wife had given birth to a fine boy, but that a day or soafter it was born the cradle was found empty. Lady Grant was in a greatstate of terror, as you may imagine. When the chief told his story shedeclared that her child had been carried off by the Good Neighbours. Itwas her wish to kill the changeling. But this the chief, mindful of theprophecy, would not permit. It was supposed that the fairy childrequired to be nursed by a mortal woman, and this was why the chief'sboy had been carried away."

  "I never heard that version of the old story before," said Tempest.

  "No? It is usually said that the fairies want the child for themselves.But in this story what I have told you was believed. Lady Grant, hopingto get back her own child in a year and a day, nursed the changeling. Itwas a peevish, cross, whimpering creature, and marvellously ugly. Butwhen she fed it with her milk it grew fat and strong, and becamegood-tempered.

  "On the night when the year and a day were up, there was heard the soundof galloping horses round the castle. A wind swept into the rooms anddown the corridors. Everyone in the castle fell into a magic sleep. Butin the morning the true child was found smiling in his cradle and thefairy changeling was gone. In the cradle also was the cup I am seeking,and a scroll saying that while it was kept in the family no ill wouldbefall, but that if lost the line would be in danger of extinction."

  "And did the prophecy ever come true?" asked Sybil.

  "Twice," replied Kilspindie, with the most profound conviction. "In thereign of the first James of Scotland the cup was stolen, and threebrothers of the chief were slain in battle. Only the child of one ofthem lived, for the chief had no family. Then the cup was broughtback--I could tell you how, but the story is too long--and the child wasspared to become the father of a large family."

  "And the second time?" asked Tempest, wondering how much of this wildtale the old lord believed.

  "The second time was in the reign of Henry VIII. The castle was sackedand the cup taken. All the family were killed
, but the nurse managed tosave one child, with whom she fled. After a series of adventures the cupwas restored and the child regained his inheritance."

  "How strange!" said Sybil. "And now that the cup is lost again?"

  Kilspindie smiled. "Well, you see, Miss Tempest, I have but one son andhe is lost. If I do not find him the title and estates must go to adistant cousin, and the prophecy of the fairies will be fulfilled. Thatis why I am so anxious to get the cup. If I can find it and bring itback to Kilspindie Castle, I am certain that I shall find my boy."

  "A wild story," said the vicar, after a pause. "There is oftentimes agrain of truth in these folktales. But tell me, how came it that the cupwas stolen the third time?"

  "I am about to tell you," replied the visitor. "There was a woman calledJanet Grant, the daughter of one of my tenants. She was in service at myplace, but after some years she became weary of the dull life. We arenot very lively up in the north," said Kilspindie, with a laugh."However, this woman got tired and went up to London. There, I believe,she obtained a situation, but what her life was while absent I do notknow. She was always reticent on the point. After six years shereturned. In the interval I had married, and at the time Janet returned,or a year before, my wife became a mother. I was the father of asplendid boy, my son and heir, Lord Morven. Janet was taken back intomy service as an under nurse, for she was a very capable woman."

  "Had she a good temper?" asked Sybil, guessing what was coming.

  "One of the worst tempers in the world. Also she was evil in herdisposition. Had I known then what was told to me afterwards by theother servants, she should never have re-entered my service. But theywere all afraid of Janet and her wicked ways, and therefore remainedsilent when it was their duty to speak out. When the boy was two yearsof age, or it may be a trifle over, the head nurse died. Janet expectedto succeed, but my wife appointed another woman."

  "She did not trust Janet," hinted the vicar.

  "No. By this time Janet was not so careful in her behaviour, and my wifebegan to suspect her true character. Janet was very angry at theslight--as she called it--and swore she would be revenged. Of course,she knew the legend of the cup, so it struck her, no doubt, that if shestole the cup the usual disaster would follow."

  "What superstition!" murmured Mr Tempest.

  "Well, I don't know, sir," said Kilspindie, quietly. "You see, MrTempest, we had chapter and verse for what might happen. However, Janet,out of revenge, took away the child and stole the cup. She had nodifficulty in doing either. The cup was placed in the picture galleryunder a glass shade, for no one ever expected that it would be stolen.It was not guarded so carefully as it should have been. But who wouldhave thought that any one of my faithful servants would steal? As to thechild, Janet was one day sent out with him. The head nurse remained athome. I believe she then took the cup with her. At all events she neverreturned, and when a search was made both the child and the cup weremissing." Here Lord Kilspindie stopped and shook his head.

  "What happened after that?" asked Sybil, curiously.

  "There is no more to tell, Miss Tempest. The woman vanished utterly withthe child and the cup. My wife, poor soul, died of grief. I employed allmanner of means to find the woman, but without result. I even offered areward and a pardon if she would bring back what she had taken. But shegave no sign of her existence. Well"--Kilspindie sighed--"that is all. Ihave been a lonely man for over twenty years, and things have gone wrongwith me in every way. I am certain that prosperity will not return to meand mine until the cup is brought back. Then I may hope to recover myson. You can understand now how anxious I am to find this man Pratt. Iwould willingly pardon him all if he would give back the cup."

  "I wonder how he became possessed of it?" said Tempest.

  "Ah!" said Kilspindie, "that is what we must find out. He seems to be anaccomplished thief, so it may be that he stole the cup. On the otherhand, Janet, finding herself hard up, may have pawned it, and Pratt mayhave got it into his possession in that way. You tell me that he has alove for beautiful things."

  "Such a love," said the vicar, sadly, "that he is willing to be a thiefto obtain them. Well, my lord, at present I do not see how we can helpyou."

  "There is one way," said Kilspindie, after a pause. "Give me a letter tothis Mr Marton, and with his aid I may succeed in tracing Pratt. In themeantime I intend to wait here for a few days. At my age I am not ableto get about so rapidly as I once did."

  The man did indeed look old and worn-out. But he was a fine, courtlygentleman of what is called the old school, and Sybil was quitefascinated with him. After some further conversation it was arrangedthat he should remain at the inn until the end of the week--it was nowWednesday--and that afterwards the vicar should accompany him to Londonto introduce him personally to Marton. Leaving her father and Kilspindietogether, Sybil went to her room to think over the strange episode whichwas the outcome of her advertisement.

  She was anxious to tell Leo all about it, but he was at Portfront, andshe had received no letter from him. Sybil wondered at this, as it wasnot like Leo to neglect her. For the moment she was inclined to drive toPortfront and see him. He had given her no reason for his departure, andshe was becoming anxious about him. Mrs Gabriel still remained inseclusion, and, so far as Sybil knew, Leo had never been to see her. Itwas therefore no use talking to Mrs Gabriel about the man she had socruelly cast off. Her father she could not appeal to because, althoughhe wished to make amends to Leo for his unjust suspicions, he did notwish him to marry her, and would therefore do nothing likely to bringthem together. In this dilemma it struck Sybil that she might seeRaston; he was a kindly creature, and all through the dark day hadbelieved in Haverleigh's innocence. She thought that Raston might beinduced to bring Leo back from Portfront, so Sybil put on her hat andsought out the curate. He was at home and delighted to see her.

  "This is an unexpected pleasure, Miss Tempest," he said, wheeling thearmchair forward. "I hope there is nothing wrong."

  "Why should there be anything wrong?" asked Sybil, smiling.

  Raston passed his hand across his forehead with a troubled air. "Thisfact is I do not feel well this morning," he said. "I have received aletter from Town which has worried me. But do not let me inflict mytroubles on you, Miss Tempest. What can I do?"

  "I'll tell you, Mr Raston. But, first of all, you must promise to keepall I tell you a secret. I don't think I am breaking confidence insaying what is in my mind, as I gave no promise of secrecy. But I musttell you all, as you are the only person who can advise me."

  "I promise to keep your secret, whatever it may be, Miss Tempest."

  "Then listen to the latest information about the cup," said Sybil, andforthwith related to Raston the news of Lord Kilspindie's arrival, andhow he had been brought to Colester by means of the advertisement.Having made this preliminary explanation, she related the story whichhad been told to her father and herself. As no promise of secrecy hadbeen given, Sybil did not think she was doing wrong; and, besides, itwas necessary for Raston to know all the details before he could helpher to bring Leo back. Finally, she had the utmost confidence in thecurate's silence.

  "It is a most extraordinary story," he said, when she had finished; "andmore curious still--" here he stopped short and considered. "I can tellyou what is in my mind later," he said; "at present you must let me knowin what way I can serve you."

  "I want you to help me with Leo," said Sybil, promptly. "For some reasonhe has gone to Portfront and is stopping there. I would go over myselfand bring him back, but I am afraid of offending my father. I want Leoto be introduced to Lord Kilspindie."

  "For what reason, Miss Tempest?"

  Sybil looked at the ground, and began to draw diagrams with a daintyshoe. "Well, Mr Raston, you know that I want to marry Leo," she said,with a blush, "and at present there are so many obstacles to ourengagement. My father is not so just towards Leo as he should be. Isuppose this is because he is poor and has no prospects. If he enlistsand goes to the war, I do not see
how that will bring us together. Evenif he gets a commission I cannot marry him. There will not be enoughmoney. Now, I thought that as I had done something to bring LordKilspindie a chance of getting back the cup, he might be induced to dosomething for myself and Leo."

  "Something might come of it, certainly, Miss Tempest."

  "I am sure Lord Kilspindie is very kind," she said in a feminine way."He looks kind. Leo has delightful manners, as you know, Mr Raston. Heis clever in his own way and well educated. Lord Kilspindie might take afancy to him and make him a secretary or something. At all events, hemight put him in the way of earning money, for I am sure that LordKilspindie has power as well as wealth."

  "Then you want Leo to come back and meet him?"

  "Yes. You must tell him all I have told you, and say that if he loves mehe must come back at once."

  "I shall do what you say, Miss Tempest, and if I can induce Leo toreturn he certainly shall. I do not know why he went to Portfront. Hisname was cleared, and he need have had no hesitation in remaining atColester."

  "I'm sure I don't know what is the matter with him," said Sybil, with asigh; "he has been so strange lately. I am sure he is keeping somethingfrom me. But if I get him to myself I'll find out what it is. But you_will_ go to Portfront, Mr Raston?"

  "Yes. This afternoon. In fact, I was going that way in any case, MissTempest, as I intend to journey to London."

  "Why are you going to London?" asked Sybil in surprise. She knew thatRaston rarely went to the great city.

  The curate hesitated again and rubbed his hair in a distracted way. "Iwould rather you did not ask me, Miss Tempest," he said at length. "I amgoing to London in answer to a letter. I hope to be back on Saturday. Ihave to preach on Sunday, as you know. The vicar said something abouttaking a service at Portfront."

  "As Lord Kilspindie will be at church on Sunday," said Sybil, "I thinkpapa will stay. He looks upon Lord Kilspindie as his guest."

  "Well, in any case I'll be back," said the curate, with a nod; "then Ishall be able to tell you the reason I had to go. In the meantime, MissTempest, I wish you would see Pearl Darry occasionally. She goeswandering about the moor lamenting her lost soul, poor creature. I havebeen with her a good deal, but while I am away she may do somethingdesperate. You see her, Miss Tempest, and persuade her that she is underthe care of the Master."

  "I'll do my best," replied Sybil; "but I am afraid I am not good enoughto preach, Mr Raston. What a shame of Mrs Jeal to put these ideas intothe girl's head! She knew that Pearl was not sane, and to make her thinksuch things was downright dangerous."

  "I know." Raston sighed. "If we could only get back the cup, Pearl wouldbe satisfied that the Master is pleased with her and has taken her intofavour again. Then she would recover her old faith in the goodness andlove of God which Mrs Jeal, with the best intentions, no doubt, hasdestroyed. I cannot think Mrs Jeal is a good woman."

  "I am sure she is a very bad one," said Sybil, emphatically. "However,I'll do as you wish, Mr Raston. Good-day. A pleasant journey," and shedeparted.

  The curate took out a letter, glanced at it, shook his head. He waspuzzled by the communication, and knew not what to make of it.