‘Mairi Ross’s dress was sacrificed to rescue two young children from certain death. It would take an evil mind to think ill of her for that.’
‘I’m only telling you what I’ve heard.’ Evangeline stooped and picked up the missing sliver of wood from the floor and handed it to Wyatt. ‘But I’m not surprised at such gossip. I’ve heard her talking about the furniture in the manse as though she’s familiar with every piece that’s there.’
‘If you saw her home, you’d understand why. They lead a very simple life in the mountain crofts. Any furniture they have is made from rough wood, by her father. It’s no more than a childlike trait to boast of what she’s seen.’
‘But she’s not a child, Wyatt. Such gossip will do you no good at all.’
‘Very well, I’ll speak to her.’ The second sliver of picture-frame followed the first through the window, and Wyatt hung an artist’s romanticised depiction of a stag at bay without further trouble.
It was one thing to tell Evangeline he would speak to Mairi about her behaviour at school, but quite another to bring the matter to the attention of Mairi herself.
Wyatt had hoped to tackle Mairi after his Sunday-morning service, but none of the Ross family attended church that week. Then, between lessons on Monday afternoon, Wyatt received a complaint that Mairi had totally disrupted a lesson by correcting Evangeline about Wellington’s campaign in the Iberian peninsula. Mairi quoted both her parents as authorities on the subject.
That evening, when Mairi left school Wyatt was waiting for her outside Eskaig, at the point where she would leave the road and make her way through the mountains to the remote croft.
Mairi’s pleasure at seeing Wyatt was short-lived. As soon as he asked her how she was enjoying school she knew why he had been waiting for her.
‘She’s sent you to speak to me, hasn’t she?’ Wyatt needed to stride out across the wiry low-growing heather in order to keep up with her. ‘I knew she would. She thinks she’s the only one who knows anything…. ’
It was impossible to conduct a sensible conversation walking at such a speed. Reaching out, Wyatt took hold of Mairi’s arm and brought her to a halt.
‘Mairi, Miss Garrett’s at the school to teach you and the others. It’s not easy for her, especially as she knows so little Gaelic. From what I hear, you’re not making it any easier.’
‘From what you hear from who? Her? She’s not likely to tell you the truth.’
‘Then, perhaps you’d like to tell me your version of what’s been happening.’
Mairi looked at him intently for some moments, but then she shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter what I say. You’re bound to take her side even if she is wrong. Like you say, she’s the teacher.’
‘I’m not taking any sides. All I want to do is resolve a classroom problem to everyone’s satisfaction.’
Once again Mairi gave him a long hard look. ‘You’ll never resolve anything as long as I’m in her class. She wants me out of the school and she won’t leave me alone until she’s succeeded.’
‘That’s foolish talk, Mairi. Why should she want you to leave the school? You’re older than the rest, it’s true, but you’re just as eager to learn as the others. More so, probably.’
‘You really don’t know why?’ Mairi’s disbelief seeped away when she saw his puzzlement. ‘No, I don’t believe you do. All right, I’ll try not to upset her, but I don’t think it’s going to work. Now I must hurry. The cows have to be milked before dark.’
Wyatt watched Mairi and returned her wave just before she disappeared from view around the hillside. He wanted to believe he had resolved the problem that existed between Mairi and Evangeline, whatever the truth of it, but he feared he had not heard the last of the matter.
True to her promise, Mairi tried hard not to antagonise Evangeline during the ensuing week, even when during a geography lesson she believed the factor’s daughter was unnecessarily scornful of the crofting method of farming.
Then, during a history lesson, continuing the story of Wellington’s campaign in Spain, Evangeline made a remark about the women who followed the English troops. She called them ‘camp followers’, adding that they were no better than the name implied.
Mairi jumped to her feet immediately. She informed Evangeline Garrett that most of the ‘camp followers’ were married to soldiers. They travelled with the army for no other reason than to be near their husbands, providing them with what little comfort they could on the march. Carried away by her anger, Mairi scornfully told Evangeline she could never imagine her staying by her man in battle or rescuing a wounded husband and carrying him to safety under fire.
Evangeline chose not to take issue with Mairi over the matter. Instead she ordered Mairi to leave her class, declaring she would no longer tolerate her interruptions and arrogant behaviour.
Pretending not to care, Mairi said: ‘I don’t want to stay in a school with a teacher who makes up her own history as she goes along. That’s not learning.’
‘We’ve heard quite enough from you, Mairi Ross. Get out now, if you please.’ Evangeline was white-faced, but there was a hint of triumph in her voice. Coming on top of her previous outbursts, Wyatt would have no alternative but to confirm Mairi’s dismissal.
Head held high, Mairi maintained her dignity, although her eyes burned with the ignominy of being ordered from school by the factor’s daughter. ‘It’ll make no difference, you know. You won’t get him.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s more, I don’t care.’ Evangeline’s face had suddenly changed from white to scarlet.
‘I’m talking of Preacher Jamieson. You can set your bonnet at him if you like, but he’ll not have you, whether I’m around or not. And that’s the real reason you’re getting rid of me; we both know that.’
‘Get out! Get out!’ Evangeline was beside herself with rage, acutely aware of the grinning faces of Mairi’s late classmates who were enjoying the discomfiture of the factor’s daughter.
‘I’m going.’ Mairi was desperately miserable at being expelled from the Eskaig school. She had wanted so much to receive an education. Without it there could be no escape from the grinding seasonal toil of the croft. However, she had no intention of allowing Evangeline to see how unhappy she was. ‘I hope you’ll tell the preacher the truth of why I’m going….’
Alasdair Burns passed Mairi in the doorway and understood immediately the cause of the din coming from Evangeline’s classroom. Taking a deep breath, he stomped into the room and bellowed for silence.
Providing the means for young Jimmy Gordon to attend school produced an unexpected bonus for Wyatt. One evening he received a visitor at the manse. In answer to a knock, Wyatt opened the door to find Angus Cameron standing hat in hand on the threshold.
‘Elder Cameron! This is indeed a surprise. Come in.’
Behind Wyatt, Alasdair was in the room and he heard Wyatt speak the elder’s name. He was so surprised he tried to remove the hot kettle from the fire without using a cloth to protect his hand. Dropping the kettle hastily, he cursed his carelessness.
‘I won’t come inside.’ Angus Cameron was ill at ease in the presence of the man whose appointment as minister he had opposed so vehemently. ‘But I would like to have a word with you, Minister Jamieson. Could we walk awhile, maybe?’
‘Of course.’ There was a fresh northerly wind blowing, and Wyatt took a coat from a peg inside the door before stepping outside. ‘We’ll walk to the kirk. The wind’s rising, and I should check that all the windows are closed.’
‘That will do fine.’ Angus Cameron replaced the hat on his head and held it in place with one hand. The wind blew fiercely in the gap between manse and church. ‘It’s a while since I saw inside the kirk. I’ve missed it sorely.’
‘No one has forced you to stay away, Elder. I’ve always made it quite clear your presence in the kirk would be very welcome.’
‘It’s that I’ve come to talk to you about….’ They reached the church
porch, and Angus removed his wide-brimmed hat once more. He stood turning it in his hands as though it were a ship’s wheel. ‘First, I would like to thank you for what you’ve done for Jimmy – Jimmy Gordon. He’s my grandson. Janet, his mother, is my daughter. An only child. We’ve all been worried about Jimmy. Apart from that dog of his, he’d seemed interested in nothing at all. Yet tonight he’s had me pushing him all around the garden in that wheeled chair you gave him and he’s bubbling over with enthusiasm about going to school with the other children. You’ve given him a new lease of life, Minister, and I’m here to offer you an apology. I still don’t agree with the way you were appointed, but you’re proving yourself a good pastor.’
The two men entered the church, and while Angus Cameron was talking he looked about him with the air of a man who had come home after a long absence.
‘Nothing’s changed here, Elder Cameron. Everything is just the way you left it – but it would be all the better for a sermon or two from you.’
Angus Cameron looked at Wyatt incredulously. ‘Do you mean that?’
‘I do. You’re sadly missed here. It would make me very happy if you resumed your place in the kirk … our kirk.’
In the elder’s hands the hat-brim was curled so tightly that Wyatt feared it might never resume its original shape. Suddenly Angus Cameron nodded vigorously, momentarily incapable of speech.
‘Good! Can I put you down for the sermon on Sunday afternoon? There’s another matter I would like to discuss with you, too. There’s a need for another chapel, at the far end of the loch, near the Munros’ cottage. I couldn’t consider it unless I had help with my own preaching duties. Do you think there is something you might be able to do…?’
Thirteen
WYATT HAD SEEN none of the Ross family for almost four weeks, since Mairi stormed out of the school building. He told himself he was concerned about the whole family, but honesty forced him to admit he missed speaking with Mairi. On a visit to Lachlan Munro, Wyatt asked about the high-mountain family, but the ex-soldier seemed unusually vague.
‘I expect the womenfolk are at the shielings, summer-grazing their cattle. That’s where they make their cheese and butter to see them through the winter – but you know that, Captain. They must have done the same thing on the Islands.’
‘You’re talking of the women, Lachlan; I’m asking of the whole Ross family. That includes nine men, I believe.’
‘Ah, well, it’s a short summer up here. There’s plenty to do at this time of year.’
Wyatt had a feeling that Lachlan Munro was not telling him all he knew of the Ross men. He would need to find out for himself what was happening on the high lands above the loch.
Wyatt chose his day well. The wispy early-morning mist promised a fine day. Sure enough, by the time Wyatt had toiled up the steep slope of the mountains behind Eskaig and reached the glen where the two Munro children had been involved in their frightening adventure, the sun was rising in a cloudless sky.
Surrounded by all that was best in the Highlands, Wyatt walked along beneath a loose-linked chain of skylarks, each bird hanging far above him, their unending repetitive song always with him.
It was not quite so green on the high lands as it was at the lochside. The soil was thinner here, and sun and wind dried the ground quickly, but the land supported a wide variety of animal and bird life. He saw many mountain hares, long-eared high-leaping animals, fast-running on erratic courses between hiding-places, well aware of the presence of a silent gliding eagle commanding the skies overhead. Once Wyatt saw a magnificent stag using a low rocky ridge as a plinth. The proud animal slipped swiftly from view when it spotted the alien presence of a man in its domain.
Eventually, without hurrying, Wyatt came in sight of the Ross cottage. Smoke was seeping from the crude chimney, but there was no other sign of life immediately apparent about the place. He eventually located Eneas Ross and his Spanish wife working side by side, backs bent, on a vegetable plot some distance from the house. The plot was hidden from view by low stone walls that protected the plants against the cutting wind.
Magdalene Ross waved in response to Wyatt’s call, but she carried on working. Eneas Ross straightened his back slowly and stiffly and waited for Wyatt to reach them.
‘You’re a long way from Eskaig, Minister. What brings you up here this time?’
‘I’ve missed you and your family at my services. I thought I’d come and satisfy myself you were all right.’
‘It’s a busy time of year for us, Minister. Crofters slipped the good Lord’s mind when He decreed man should work for only six days of the week. During winter, when the snows are with us, we can find time to pray every day, but we need to work like two men through the summer if we’re to survive. Now, where are my manners…? Away to the house with you, woman, bring the whisky and a piece of new cheese for Minister Jamieson.’
Eneas Ross’s words were loud and dictatorial, but the look that followed Magdalene Ross towards the cottage contained a gentleness seldom seen in such a man. When his wife was beyond hearing, Eneas Ross said: ‘She’s been carrying on something awful about not coming to your kirk, Minister. She’d have come on her own, but she’s not so steady on her legs these days. If I let her go, I’d get no work done for worrying about her.’
‘How about your boys? Couldn’t one of them have brought her to the kirk?’
A strange expression crossed the face of Eneas Ross, but it was gone again so quickly Wyatt wondered if he had imagined it.
‘The boys aren’t here. They’ve gone down to the lowlands to fetch back some sheep – all except young Donnie. He’s at the shielings, hunting food for the womenfolk. He’d rather be with his brothers, I dare say, but if that young Fraser girl’s there I doubt he’ll be too unhappy.’
Wyatt wondered whether Eneas Ross knew of Seonaid’s association with John Garrett. But he had not come here to cause trouble.
‘I would have thought there were sheep enough about here.’
‘There are, but those who own them are robbers. They’ve robbed our people of land for their sheep-walks and they’d rob blind any man who tried to strike a bargain with them. I’ll not deal face to face with any man who runs sheep on cleared land in the Highlands.’
Magdalene Ross arrived with the whisky-jar, a half-loaf of coarse bread and a great chunk of newly made cheese, brought from the shielings by Mairi on a visit a few days before.
The talk turned to the summer grazing-lands, and Wyatt expressed an interest in paying them a visit.
‘Why not?’ Eneas Ross agreed. ‘You’ll find Mairi and Tibbie there. You’ll also meet a great many womenfolk you’ll not have met before. Mind, you’ll not make it back to Eskaig by nightfall. Either get the women to make a shelter for you there or come back here for the night.’
Wyatt had not intended going to the shielings quite so soon, but the more he thought about it the more sense it seemed to make. He had no urgent tasks waiting for him in the village, and it might be a long time before he had another such opportunity.
Thanking Eneas Ross and his wife for their hospitality, Wyatt took directions and set off for the shielings. The way would take him past the home of Seonaid Fraser. He intended to call on the girl’s blind father.
Unlike the Ross cot, the Fraser home occupied an exposed position on the slope of one of the highest peaks in the area. It also had a sad air of neglect about the place, although a small vegetable plot was the equal of the one Wyatt had just seen at the Ross croft.
There were a couple of tethered goats here, too, and as Wyatt approached he was surprised to see Seonaid at home milking one of the animals.
She stopped when she saw Wyatt and, setting aside the wooden bucket, hurried to meet him.
‘What are you doing here? You’ve not come to tell my father about me and John Garrett? Please don’t. It will kill him.’
‘He’ll learn nothing from me,’ Wyatt reassured the girl. ‘I’m on my way to the shielings and thought it was
time I called and paid your father a visit.’
Behind them in the cot doorway a man appeared. He looked directly to where Wyatt was standing with Seonaid, but the cloud of blindness was in his eyes and Wyatt knew he could not see them.
‘Who’s that, Seonaid? I heard voices. Who are you talking to, girl?’ The voice was querulous and somewhat peevish.
‘It’s the minister from Eskaig here to see you. He’s on his way to the shielings. I’ll be taking him with me when I go.’
‘A minister? What’s he doing all this way from Eskaig? We’ve never had one here before.’
‘All the more reason to make him welcome. You’re always complaining no one ever comes calling on you.’
‘That Ross boy is here often enough, although we’re better off without the likes of him. I never trusted a Ross when I could see them. I trust them even less now I can’t.’
‘Minister Jamieson hasn’t come all this way to hear what you think of your neighbours. You’ve often said how you’d like a prayer said for Ma … well, now’s the chance. I’ll finish milking the goats and then I’ll need to get back to the shielings. Our cows will want milking, and no one else will do it for me if I’m not there. Will half an hour do you, Minister?’
Wyatt nodded, and as he followed Hamish Fraser inside the cottage Seonaid returned to the goats.
Once inside there was little to distinguish between this cot and the one occupied by the Ross family, although the Fraser home was not as clean. It also lacked an indefinable warmth that was present in the Ross household.
‘Don’t you find it lonely up here, Mr Fraser? Have you ever thought of moving to Eskaig?’
‘The answer to both your questions is No. Why should I find it lonely? Besides, I’ve lived here so long I don’t need eyes to find my way around and I’ve got Seonaid to think of. I know all about Eskaig and the wicked ways of folk who live there. Seonaid’s mother came from Eskaig. She had me to thank for removing her from temptation. She realised that, Minister. Realised it and was grateful.’
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