The Half-Hearted

by John Buchan

  CHAPTER III

  UPLAND WATERS

  When Alice woke next morning the cool upland air was flooding throughthe window, and a great dazzle of sunlight made the world glorious. Shedressed and ran out to the lawn, then past the loch right to the veryedge of the waste country. A high fragrance of heath and bog-myrtle wasin the wind, and the mouth grew cool as after long draughts of springwater. Mists were crowding in the valleys, each bald mountain top shonelike a jewel, and far aloft in the heavens were the white streamers ofmorn. Moorhens were plashing at the loch's edge, and one tall heronrose from his early meal. The world was astir with life: sounds of the_plonk-plonk_ of rising trout and the endless twitter of woodland birdsmingled with the far-away barking of dogs and the lowing of thefull-uddered cows in the distant meadows. Abashed and enchanted, thegirl listened. It was an elfin land where the old witch voices of hilland river were not silenced. With the wind in her hair she climbed theslope again to the garden ground, where she found a solemn-eyed colliesniffing the fragrant wind in his morning stroll.

  Breakfast over, the forenoon hung heavy on her hands. It was LadyManorwater's custom to let her guests sit idle in the morning and followtheir own desire, but in the afternoon she would plan subtle andfar-reaching schemes of enjoyment. It was a common saying that in herlarge good-nature she amused people regardless of their own expense.She would light-heartedly make town-bred folk walk twenty miles or bearthe toil of infinite drives. But this was after lunch; before, herguests might do as they pleased. Lord Manorwater went off to see sometenant; Arthur, after vain efforts to decoy Alice into a fishingexpedition, went down the stream in a canoe, because to his fool's headit seemed the riskiest means of passing the time at his disposal; Berthaand her sister were writing letters; the spectacled people had settledthemselves below shady trees with voluminous papers and a pile of books.Alice alone was idle. She made futile expeditions to the library, andreturned with an armful of volumes which she knew in her heart she wouldnever open. She found the deepest and most comfortable chair and placedit in a shady place among beeches. But she could not stay there, andmust needs wander restlessly about the gardens, plucking flowers andlistlessly watching the gardeners at their work.

  Lunch-time found this young woman in a slightly irritable frame of mind.The cause direct and indirect was Mr. Stocks, who had found her alone,and had saddled her with his company for the space of an hour and ahalf. His vein had been _badinage_ of the serious and reproving kind, andthe girl had been bored to distraction. But a misspent hour is soonforgotten, and the sight of her hostess's cheery face would haverestored her to good humour had it not been for a thought which couldnot be exorcised. She knew of Lady Manorwater's reputation as aninveterate matchmaker, and in some subtle way the suspicion came to herthat that goddess had marked herself as a quarry. She found herselfnext Mr. Stocks at meals, she had already listened to his eulogy fromher hostess's own lips, and to her unquiet fancy it seemed as if theothers stood back that they two might be together. Brought up in anatmosphere of commerce, she was perfectly aware that she was a desirablematch for an embryo politician, and that sooner or later she would bemistress of many thousands. The thought was a barbed vexation. To Mr.Stocks she had been prepared to extend the tolerance of a happyaloofness; now she found that she was driven to dislike him with all thebitterness of unwelcome proximity.

  The result of such thoughts was that after lunch she disregarded herhostess's preparations and set out for a long hill walk. Like allperfectly healthy people, much exercise was as welcome to her as foodand sleep; ten miles were refreshing; fifteen miles in an afternoon anexaltation. She reached the moor beyond the policies, and, once pastthis rushy wilderness, came to the Avelin-side and a single plank bridgewhich she crossed lightly without a tremor. Then came the highway, andthen a long planting of firs, and last of all the dip of a rushingstream pouring down from the hills in a lonely wooded hollow. The girlloved to explore, and here was a field ripe for adventure.

  Soon she grew flushed with the toil and the excitement; climbing the bedof the stream was no child's play, for ugly corners had to be passed,slippery rocks to be skirted, and many breakneck leaps to be effected.Her spirits rose as the spray from little falls brushed her face and thethick screen of the birches caught in her hair. When she reached avantage-rock and looked down on the chain of pools and rapids by whichshe had come, a cry of delight broke from her lips. This was living,this was the zest of life! The upland wind cooled her brow; she washedher hands in a rocky pool and arranged her tangled tresses. What didshe care for Mr. Stocks or any man? He was far down on the lowlandstalking his pompous nonsense; she was on the hills with the sky aboveher and the breeze of heaven around her, free, sovereign, the queen ofan airy land.

  With fresh wonder she scrambled on till the trees began to grow sparserand an upland valley opened in view. Now the burn was quiet, running inlong shining shallows and falling over little rocks into deep brownpools where the trout darted. On either side rose the gates of thevalley--two craggy knolls each with a few trees on its face. Beyond wasa green lawnlike place with a great confusion of blue mountains hemmedaround its head. Here, if anywhere, primeval peace had found itsdwelling, and Alice, her eyes bright with pleasure, sat on a greenknoll, too rapt with the sight for word or movement.

  Then very slowly, like an epicure lingering at a feast, she walked upthe banks of the burn, now high above a trough of rock, now down in agreen winding hollow. Suddenly she came on the spirits of the place inthe shape of two boys down on their faces groping among the stones of apool.

  One was very small and tattered, one about sixteen; both were barefootand both were wet and excited. "Tam, ye stot, ye've let the muckle yinaff again," groaned the smaller. "Oh, be canny, man! If we grip himit'll be the biggest trout that the laird will have in his basket." Theelder boy, who was bearing the heat and burden of the work, could onlygroan "Heather!" at intervals. It seemed to be his one exclamation.

  Now it happened that the two ragamuffins lifted their eyes and saw totheir amazement a girl walking on the bank above them, a girl who smiledcomrade-like on them and seemed in no way surprised. They proppedthemselves on their elbows and stared. "Heather!" they ejaculated inone breath. Then they, too, grinned broadly, for it was impossible toresist so good-humoured an intruder. She held her head high and walkedlike a queen, till a turn of the water hid her. "It's a wumman," gaspedthe smaller boy. "And she's terrible bonny," commented the morecritical brother. Then the two fell again to the quest of the greattrout.

  Meanwhile the girl pursued her way till she came to a fall where thebank needed warier climbing. As she reached the top a little flushedand panting, she became conscious that the upland valley was not withoutinhabitants. For, not six paces off, stood a man's figure, his backturned towards her, and his mind apparently set on mending a piece oftackle.

  She stood for a moment hesitating. How could she pass without beingseen? The man was blissfully unconscious of her presence, and as heworked he whistled Schubert's "Wohin," and whistled it very badly. Thenhe fell to apostrophizing his tackle, and then he grew irritable."Somebody come and keep this thing taut," he cried. "Tam, Jock! whereon earth are you?"

  The thing in question was lying at Alice's feet in wavy coils.

  "Jock, you fool, where are you?" cried the man, but he never lookedround and went on biting and tying. Then an impulse took the girl andshe picked up the line. "That's right," cried the man, "pull it astight as you can," and Alice tugged heroically at the waterproof silk.She felt horribly nervous, and was conscious that she must look a veryflushed and untidy young barbarian. Many times she wanted to drop itand run away, but the thought of the menaces against the absent Jock andof her swift discovery deterred her. When he was done with her help hemight go on working and never look round. Then she would escapeunnoticed down the burn.

  But no such luck befell her. With a satisfied tug he pronounced thething finished and wheeled round to regard his associates. "Now, youyoung wretches--" and the words
froze on his lips, for in the place oftwo tatterdemalion boys he saw a young girl holding his line limply andsmiling with much nervousness.

  "Oh," he cried, and then became dumb and confused. He was shy andunhappy with women, save the few whom he had known from childhood. Thegirl was no better. She had blushed deeply, and was now minutelyscanning the stones in the burn. Then she raised her eyes, met his, andthe difficulty was solved by both falling into fits of deep laughter.She was the first to speak.

  "I am so sorry I surprised you. I did not see you till I was close toyou, and then you were abusing somebody so terribly that to stop suchlanguage I had to stop and help you. I saw Tam and Jock at a pool along way down, so they couldn't hear you, you know."

  "And I'm very much obliged to you. You held it far better than Tam orJock would have done. But how did you get up here?"

  "I climbed up the burn," said Alice simply, putting up a hand to confinea wandering tress. The young man saw a small, very simply dressed girl,with a flushed face and bright, deep eyes. The small white hat crowneda great tangle of wonderful reddish gold hair. She held herself withthe grace which is born of natural health and no modish training; thestrong hazel stick, the scratched shoes, and the wet fringes of her gownshowed how she had spent the afternoon. The young man, having receivedan excellent education, thought of Dryads and Oreads.

  Alice for her part saw a strong, well-knit being, with a brown,clean-shaven face, a straight nose, and a delicate, humorous mouth. Hehad large grey eyes, very keen, quizzical, and kindly. His raiment wasdisgraceful--an old knickerbocker suit with a ruinous Norfolk jacket,patched at the elbows and with leather at wrist and shoulder.Apparently he scorned the June sun, for he had no cap. His pocketsseemed bursting with tackle, and a discarded basket lay on the ground.The whole figure pleased her, its rude health, simplicity, and disorder.The atrocious men who sometimes came to her father's house had beenmiracles of neatness, and Mr. Stocks was wont to robe his person in themost faultless of shooting suits.

  A fugitive memory began to haunt the girl. She had met or heard of thisman before. The valley was divided between Glenavelin and Etterick. Hewas not the Doctor, and he was not the minister. Might not he be thatLewie, the well-beloved, whose praises she had heard consistently sungsince her arrival? It pleased her to think that she had been the firstto meet the redoubtable young man.

  To them there entered the two boys, the younger dangling a fish. "It isthe big trout ye lost," he cried. "We guddled 'um. We wad has gotten'um afore, but a wumman frichted 'um." Then turning unabashed to Alice,he said in accusing tones, "That's the wumman!"

  The elder boy gently but firmly performed on his brother the operationknown as "scragging." It was a subdued spirit which emerged from thefraternal embrace.

  "Pit the fush in the basket, Tam," said he, "and syne gang away wide upthe hill till I cry ye back." The tones implied that his younger brotherwas no fit company for two gentlemen and a lady.

  "I won't spoil your fishing," said Alice, fearing fratricidal strife."You are fishing up, so I had better go down the burn again." And with adignified nod to the others she turned to go.

  Jock sprang forward with a bound and proceeded to stone the small Tamup the hill. He coursed that young gentleman like a dog, bidding him"come near," or "gang wide," or "lie down there," to all of which theculprit, taking the sport in proper spirit, gaily responded.

  "I think you had better not go down the burn," said the manreflectively. "You should keep the dry hillside. It is safer."

  "Oh, I am not afraid," said the girl, laughing.

  "But then I might want to fish down, and the trout are very shy there,"said he, lying generously.

  "Well, I won't then, but please tell me where Glenavelin is, for thestream-side is my only direction."

  "You are staying there?" he asked with a pleased face. "We shall meetagain, for I shall be over to-morrow. That fence on the hillside istheir march, and if you follow it you will come to the footbridge on theAvelin. Many thanks for taking Jock's place and helping me."

  He watched her for a second as she lightly jumped the burn and climbedthe peaty slope. Then he turned to his fishing, and when Alice lookedback from the vantage-ground of the hill shoulder she saw a figurebending intently below a great pool. She was no coquette, but she couldnot repress a tinge of irritation at so callous and self-absorbed ayoung man. Another would have been profuse in thanks and would haveaccompanied her to point out the road, or in some way or other wouldhave declared his appreciation of her presence. He might have told herhis name, and then there would have been a pleasant informalintroduction, and they could have talked freely. If he came toGlenavelin to-morrow, she would have liked to appear as already anacquaintance of so popular a guest.

  But such thoughts did not long hold their place. She was an honestyoung woman, and she readily confessed that fluent manners and the airof the _cavaliere servente_ were things she did not love. Carelessnesssuited well with a frayed jacket and the companionship of a hill burnand two ragged boys. So, comforting her pride with proverbs, shereturned to Glenavelin to find the place deserted save for dogs, and intheir cheering presence read idly till dinner.