by John Buchan
CHAPTER XII
PASTORAL AND TRAGEDY
The news of the election, brought to Glenavelin by a couple of raggedrunners, had a different result from that forecast by Lewis. Aliceheard it with a heart unquickened; and when, an hour after, the flushed,triumphant Mr. Stocks arrived in person to claim the meed of success,he was greeted with a painful carelessness. Lady Manorwater had beenloud in her laments for her nephew, but to Mr. Stocks she gave thehonest praise which a warm-hearted woman cannot withhold from thefighter.
"Our principles have won," she cried. "Now who will call the place aTory stronghold? Oh, Mr. Stocks, you have done wonderfully, and I amvery glad. I'm not a bit sorry for Lewis, for he well deserved hisbeating."
But with Alice there could be neither pleasure nor its simulation. Herterrible honesty forbade her the easy path of false congratulations.She bit her lip till tears filled her eyes. What was this wretchedposition into which she had strayed? Lewis was all she had feared, buthe was Lewis, and far more than any bundle of perfections. A hot,passionate craving for his presence was blinding her to reason. Andthis man who had won--this, the fortunate politician--she cared for himnot a straw. A strong dislike began to grow in her heart to theblameless Mr. Stocks.
Dinner that night was a weary meal to the girl. Lady Manorwaterprattled about the day's events, and Lord Manorwater, hopelessly bored,ate his food in silence. The lively Bertha had gone to bed with aheadache, and the younger Miss Afflint was the receptacle for the momentof her hostess's confidences. Alice sat between Mr. Stocks and Arthur,facing a tall man with a small head and immaculate hair who had riddenover to dine and sleep. One of the two had the wisdom to see her humourand keep silent, though the thought plunged him into a sea of uglyreflections. It would be hard if, now that things were going well withhim, the lady alone should prove obdurate. For in all this politician'sdaydreams a dainty figure walked by his side, sat at his table's head,received his friends, fascinated austere ministers, and filled his pipeof an evening at home.
Arthur was silent, and to him the lady turned in vain. He treated herwith an elaborate politeness which sat ill on his brusque manners, andfor the most part showed no desire to enliven the prevailing dulness.But after dinner he carried her off to the gardens on the plea of freshair and a fine sunset, and the girl, who liked the boy, went gladly.Then the reason of his silence was made plain. He dismayed her bybecoming lovesick.
"Tell me your age, Alice," he implored.
"I am twenty at Christmas time," said the girl, amazed at the question.
"And I am seventeen or very nearly that. Men sometimes marry womenolder than themselves, and I don't see why I shouldn't. Oh, Alice,promise that you will marry me. I never met a girl I liked so much, andI am sure we should be happy."
"I am sure we should," said the girl, laughing. "You silly boy! whatput such nonsense in your head? I am far too old for you, and though Ilike you very much, I don't in the least want to marry you." She seemedto herself to have got out of a sober world into a sort of MadTea-party, where people behaved like pantaloons and spoke in conundrums.
The boy flushed and his eyes grew cross. "Is it somebody else?" heasked; at which the girl, with a memory of Mr. Stocks, reflected on thedreadful monotony of men's ways.
A solution flashed upon his brain. "Are you going to marry LewieHaystoun?" he cried in a more cheerful voice. After all, Lewis was hiscousin, and a worthy rival.
Alice grew hotly uncomfortable. "I am not going to marry Mr. LewisHaystoun, and I am not going to talk to you any more." And she turnedround with a flaming face to the cool depths of the wood.
"Then it is that fellow Stocks. Oh, Lord!" groaned Arthur, irritatedinto bad manners. "You can't mean it, Alice. He's not fit to blackyour boots."
Some foolish impulse roused the girl to reply. She defended the veryman against whom all the evening she had been unreasonably bitter. "Youhave no right to abuse him. He is your people's guest and a verydistinguished man, and you are only a foolish boy."
He paled below his sunburn. Now he believed the truth of the horridsuspicion which had been fastening on his mind. "But--but," hestammered, "the chap isn't a gentleman, you know."
The words quickened her vexation. A gentleman! The cant word, thefetish of this ring of idle aristocrats--she knew the hollowness of thewhole farce. The democrat in her made her walk off with erect head andbright eyes, leaving a penitent boy behind; while all the time a sick,longing heart drove her to the edge of tears.
* * * * *
The days dragged slowly for the girl. The brightness had gone out ofthe wide, airy landscape, and the warm August days seemed chill. Shehated herself for the wrong impression she had left on the boy Arthur'smind, but she was too proud to seek to erase it; she could but trust tohis honour for silence. If Lewis heard--the thought was too terrible toface! He would resign himself to the inevitable; she knew the temper ofthe man. Good form was his divinity, and never by word or look would heattempt to win another man's betrothed. She must see him and learn thetruth: but he came no more to Glenavelin, and Etterick was a far cry fora girl's fancy. Besides, the Twelfth had come and the noise of guns onevery hill spoke of other interests for the party at Etterick. Lewishad forgotten his misfortunes, she told herself, and in the easy way ofthe half-hearted found in bodily fatigue a drug for a mind but little inneed of it.
* * * * *
One afternoon Lady Manorwater came over the lawn waving a letter. "Doyou want to go and picnic to-morrow, Alice?" she cried. "Lewis is tobe shooting on the moors at the head of the Avelin, and he wants us tocome and lunch at the Pool of Ness. He wants the whole party to come,particularly Mr. Stocks, and he wants to know if you have forgiven him.What can the boy mean?"
As the cheerful little lady paused, Alice's heart beat till she fearedbetrayal. A sudden fierce pleasure burned in her veins. Did he stillseek her good opinion? Was he, as well as herself, miserable alone?And then came like a stab the thought that he had joined her withStocks. Did he class her with that alien world of prigs and dullards?She ceased to think, and avoiding her hostess and tea, ran over thewooden bridge to the slope of hill and climbed up among the red heather.
A month ago she had been heart-whole and young, a simple child. Thesame prejudices and generous beliefs had been hers, but held looselywith a child's comprehension. But now this old world had been awakenedto arms against a dazzling new world of love and pleasure. She was ledcaptive by emotion, but the cold rook of scruple remained. She had readof women surrendering all for love, but she felt dismally that thishappy gift had been denied her. Criticism, a fierce, vulgar antagonism,impervious to sentiment, not to be exorcised by generous impulse--suchwas her unlovely inheritance.
As she leaned over a pool of clear brown water in a little burn, wherescented ferns dipped and great rocks of brake and heather shadowed, shesaw her face and figure mirrored in every colour and line. Herextraordinary prettiness delighted her, and then she laughed at her ownvanity. A lady of the pools, with the dark eyes and red-gold hair ofthe north, surely a creature of dawn and the blue sky, and born for nodreary self-communings. She returned, with her eyes clear and somethinglike laughter in her heart. To-morrow she should see him, to-morrow!
* * * * *
It was the utter burning silence of midday, when the man who toils losesthe skin of his face, and the man who rests tastes the joys of deepleisure. The blue, airless sky, the level hilltops, the straight linesof glen, the treeless horizon of the moors--no sharp ridge or cliffcaught the tired eye, only an even, sleep-lulled harmony. Five veryhungry, thirsty, and wearied men lay in the shadow above the Pool ofNess, and prayed heaven for luncheon.
Lewis and George, Wratislaw and Arthur Mordaunt were there, and DoctorGracey, who loved a day on the hills. The keepers sat farther up theslope smoking their master's tobacco--sure sign of a well-spent morning.For the party had been on the moors by eight, and for five burning hourshad tra
mped the heather. All wore light and airy shooting-clothes savethe doctor, who had merely buckled gaiters over his professional blacktrousers. All were burned to a tawny brown, and all lay in differentattitudes of gasping ease. Few things so clearly proclaim a man's pastas his posture when lounging. Arthur and Wratislaw lay, like townsmen,prone on their faces with limbs rigidly straight. Lewis and George--oldcampaigners both--lay a little on the side, arms lying loosely, andknees a little bent. But one and all gasped, and swore softly at theweather.
"Turn round, Tommy," said George, glancing up, "or you'll get sunstrokeat the back of the neck. I've had it twice, so I ought to know. Youwant to wet your handkerchief and put it below your cap. Why don't youwear a deer-stalker instead of that hideous jockey thing? Feugh, I amwarm and cross and thirsty. Lewis, I'll give your aunt five minutes,and then I shall go down and drink that pool dry."
Lewis sat up and watched the narrow ribbon of road which coiled up theglen to the pool's edge. He only saw some hundreds of yards down it,but the prospect served to convince him that his erratic aunt was late.
"If my wishes had any effect," said George, "at this moment I should behaving iced champagne." And he cast a longing eye to the hampers.
"You won't get any," said Lewis. "We are not sybarites in thisglen, and our drinks are the drinks of simple folk. Do youremember Cranstoun? I once went stalking with him, and we had_pate-de-foie-gras_ for luncheon away up on the side of a ruggedmountain. That sort of thing sets my teeth on edge."
"Honest man!" cried George. "But here are your friends, and you hadbetter stir yourself and make them welcome."
Five very cool and leisurely beings were coming up the hill-path, for,having driven to above the village, they had had an easy walk ofscarcely half a mile. Lewis's eye sought out a slight figure behind theothers, a mere gleam of pink and white. As she stepped out from thepath to the heather his eye was quick to seize her exquisite grace.Other women arrayed themselves in loose and floating raiment, ribbonsand what not; but here was one who knew her daintiness, and made noeffort to cloak it. Trim, cool, and sweet, the coils of bright hairabove the white frock catching the noon sun--surely a lady to pray forand toil for, one made for no facile wooing or easy conquest.
Lewis advanced to Mr. Stocks as soon as he had welcomed his aunt, andshook hands cordially. "We seem to have lost sight of each other duringthe last few days. I never congratulated you enough, but you probablyunderstood that my head was full of other things. You foughtsplendidly, and I can't say I regret the issue. You will do much betterthan I ever could."
Mr. Stocks smiled happily. The wheel of his fortunes was bringing himvery near the top. All the way up he had had Alice for a companion; andthat young woman, happy from a wholly different cause, had beenwonderfully gracious. He felt himself on Mr. Lewis Haystoun's level atlast, and the baffling sense of being on a different plane, which he hadalways experienced in his company, was gone, he hoped, for ever. So hebecame frank and confidential, forgot the pomp of his talk and hisinevitable principles, and assisted in laying lunch.
Lady Manorwater drove her nephew into a corner.
"Where have you been, Lewis, all these days? If you had been anybodyelse, I should have said you were sulking. I must speak to youseriously. Do you know that Alice has been breaking her heart for you?I won't have the poor child made miserable, and though I don't in theleast want you to marry her, yet; I cannot have you playing with her."
Lewis had grown suddenly very red.
"I think you are mistaken," he said stiffly. "Miss Wishart does notcare a straw for me. If she is in love with anybody, it is withStocks."
"I am much older than you, my dear, and I should know better. I may aswell confess that I hoped it would be Mr. Stocks, but I can'tdisbelieve my own eyes. The child becomes wretched whenever she hearsyour name."
"You are making me miserably unhappy, because I can't believe a word ofit. I have made a howling fool of myself lately, and I can't be blindto what she thinks of me."
Lady Manorwater looked pathetic. "Is the great Lewis ashamed ofhimself?"
"Not a bit. I would do it again, for it is my nature to, as the hymnsays. I am cut all the wrong way, and my mind is my mind, you know.But I can't expect Miss Wishart to take that point of view."
His aunt shook a hopeless head. "Your moral nature is warped, my dear.It has always been the same since you were a very small boy atGlenavelin, and read the Holy War on the hearthrug. You could never bemade to admire Emmanuel and his captains, but you set your heart on thereprobates Jolly and Griggish. But get away and look after your guests,sir."
Lunch came just in time to save five hungry men from an undignified end.The Glenavelin party looked on with amusement as the ravenous appetiteswere satisfied. Mr. Stocks, in a huge good humour, talked discursivelyof sport. He inquired concerning the morning's bag, and called upreminiscences of friends who had equalled or exceeded it. Lewis wasuncomfortable, for he felt that in common civility Mr. Stocks shouldhave been asked to shoot. He could not excuse himself with the plea ofan unintentional omission, for he had heard reports of the gentleman'swonderful awkwardness with a gun, and he had not found it in his heartto spoil the sport of five keen and competent hands.
He dared not look at Alice, for his aunt's words had set his pulsesbeating hotly. For the last week he had wrestled with himself, tellinghis heart that this lady was beyond his ken for ever and a day, for hebelonged by nature to the clan of despondent lovers. Before, she hadhad all the icy reserve, he all the fervours. The hint of some spark offire behind the snows of her demeanour filled him with a delirious joy.Every movement of her body pleased him, every word which she spoke, theblitheness of her air and the ready kindness. The pale, pretty Afflintgirls, with their wit and their confidence, seemed old and womanlycompared with Alice. Let simplicity be his goddesshenceforth--simplicity and youth.
The Pool of Ness is a great, black cauldron of clear water, with berriesabove and berries below, and high crags red with heather. There you mayfind shade in summer, and great blaeberries and ripening rowans in thewane of August. These last were the snare for Alice, who was ever anadventurer. For the moment she was the schoolgirl again, and all sordidelderly cares were tossed to the wind. She teased Doctor Gracey to thatworthy's delight, and she bade George and Arthur fetch and carry in away that made them her slaves for life. Then she unbent to Mr. Stocksand made him follow her out on a peninsula of rock, above which hung agreat cluster of fruit. The unfortunate politician was not built forthis kind of exercise, and slipped and clung despairingly to every rootand cleft. Lewis followed aimlessly: her gaiety did not fit with hismood; and he longed to have her to himself and know his fortune.
He passed the panting Stocks and came up with the errant lady.
"For heaven's sake be careful, Miss Wishart," he cried in alarm."That's an ugly black swirl down there."
The girl laughed in his face.
"Isn't the place glorious!" she cried. "It's as cool as winter, andoh! the colours of that hillside. I'm going up to that birk-tree tosit. Do you think I can do it?"
"I am coming up after you," said Lewis.
She stopped and regarded it with serious eyes. "It's hard, but I'mgoing to try. It's harder than the Midburn that I climbed up on theday I saw you fishing."
She remembered! Joy caught at his heart, and he laughed so gladly thatAlice turned round to look at him. Something in his eyes made her turnher head away and scan the birk-tree again.
Then suddenly there was a slip of soil, a helpless clutch at fern andheather, a cry of terror, and he was alone on the headland. The blackswirl was closing over the girl's head.
He had been standing rapt in a happy fancy, his thoughts far in a worldof their own, and his eyes vacant of any purpose. Startled toalertness, he still saw vaguely, and for a second stood irresolute andwondering. Then came another splash, and a heavy body flung itself intothe pool from lower down the rock. He knew the black head and the roundshoulders of Mr. Stocks.
The man caught
the girl as she struggled to get out of the swirl andwith strong ugly strokes began to make for shore. Lewis stood with asick heart, slow to realize the horror which had overtaken him. She wasout of danger, though the man was swimming badly; dismally he noted thefact of his atrocious swimming. But this was the hero; he had stoodirresolute. The thought burned him like a hot iron.
Half a dozen pairs of hands relieved the swimmer of his burden. Alicewas little the worse, a trifle pale, very draggled and unhappy, andutterly tired. Lady Manorwater wept over her and kissed her, and hailedthe dripping Stocks as her preserver. Lewis alone stood back. Hesatisfied himself that she was unhurt, and then, on the plea of gettingthe carriage, set off down the glen with a very grey, quivering face.