Donald Ross of Heimra (Volume 3 of 3)

"But what do you mean?" she said, angrily. "What word did I send you? Do you imagine I authorized those mad and cruel proceedings? I bade Big Archie tell those men what the Fishery Board had said – that they had no right there; I did not ask you to drive the poor men out with sticks and stones, and set fire to their huts with petroleum. I don't want any such on-goings: why, it is monstrous that the people should take the law into their own hands, and get the neighbourhood a bad name for rioting."

"It's the God's truth, mem, and many's the time I was telling them that," said the Gillie Ciotach, solemnly. "But ye see, mem, there's some wild duvvles about here; and they're neither to hold nor to bind; but I'll tell them what Miss Stanley says, that there's to be no more fighting; and if a man is determined to fight, then we'll chist fell him with a chair, and fling him below the table until he gets sober. It's a peaceable neighbourhood: why should there be any fighting in it? – but for these duvvles! – "

"I am glad you think so," said Mary, very gratefully. "And then there's another thing – the poaching. Now, is it fair? I ask you if it is fair – "

"It's a b – y shame!" said the Gillie Ciotach to himself, as he bent his head to sip a little more whiskey.

"Because look what I am doing, Andrew," she went on, probably not having heard the penitent exclamation. "I want you to understand. I am having the ground shot over, moderately, by the keepers, and the game sent to Inverness and sold there to pay wages, and the cost of the kennels, and so on; and in that way I can afford to keep the gillies in employment. And I do think it is hardly fair that there should be poaching. I get no good out of the game – except a bird or two now and again for the house, or a brace or two to send away. Of course, I don't believe that there is very much poaching – for the keepers know their business too well; but it is disgraceful there should be any – "

"I declare to ye, mem," said the Gillie Ciotach, in tones of the most earnest conviction, "that if I was to come across one of them d – d scoundrels – I beg your pardon, mem – I meant to say there was one or two bad men about here, that mebbe would tek a hare if they found her sitting in her form – or – or a salmon; and as sure's death, mem, if I was to catch one of them scoundrels, I would bind him hand and foot with a heather rope, and I would fling him down in front of Hector's cottage, and I would say 'Hector, off with him to Dingwall!'"

This was almost too much of zeal.

"Andrew," said she, slowly, and she looked at him, "I have heard it said that even you yourself – "

"Me, mem?" he exclaimed, quick to repel this unspoken accusation. "Me, mem? Miss Stanley is not going to believe that! There's a great many liars about here, mem, and there's not one of them I would believe myself; and tekking away any one's character like that! I would just like to brek the bones of any one that I heard talking like that about me – begooh, I would shove his teeth down his throat!"

"Well, I won't detain you any longer, Andrew," said she – and he drained off the whiskey, and smoothed out the ribbons of his Balmoral. "I am glad to hear that there is to be no more fighting or poaching; for I want the neighbourhood to have a good name; and there are plenty of other and better occupations for the young men."

She went with him to the door. Suddenly something seemed to occur to the Gillie Ciotach.

"Would Miss Stanley be caring for two or three sea-trout now and again?" said he, in a casual kind of way.

Instantly she fixed her eyes on him.

"Sea-trout? – where are you getting sea-trout, Andrew?" she demanded. "Do you mean to say you have a scringe-net?"

For one brief moment the Gillie Ciotach looked disconcerted and guilty; but only for a moment.

"Aw, no, mem. A scringe-net? Is it a scringe-net? Aw, I'm sure there's no one would use a scringe-net about here!" he declared, assuming further and further an air of innocence as he went on. "The sea-trout? – well, mebbe they would be in the herring-nets – and mebbe a happening one would come on to the bait-lines – and – and mebbe the one way or the other; but if Miss Stanley not wishing to have them – "

"Why, isn't this the very time they go up the rivers to spawn!" she exclaimed. "And what a shame it would be to take them now!"

"Indeed, indeed, and that's the God's truth, mem," said the Gillie Ciotach, with a serious air. "It's at this very moment. And who would tek them? Who would put a scringe-net round the mouth of the ruvvers at a time of the year like this? Not a man about here, anyway. Aw, sea-trout? – who would think of tekkin sea-trout now? Well, good evening, mem; and I am thanking Miss Stanley for her kindness – yes, yes, indeed."

And therewith the Gillie Ciotach went down the steps, fumbling in his pocket for his pipe; while Mary returned to relate the story of this momentous interview to Käthchen – perhaps with some few judicious reservations. For if all that the Gillie Ciotach professed was not quite to be believed, at least it was something that so desperate a dare-devil had the grace to affect being on the side of virtue; and Mary chose to flatter herself that, now he had shown himself in a measure amenable, she would sooner or later complete his conversion – to the general quieting of the country-side.

And of course an account of this, her latest conquest, had to be written out forthwith and despatched to Heimra. Indeed, it was remarkable how constant had become the communication between the island and the shore, now that Donald Ross had returned for a few days to his own home. Big Archie's lugger was continually being requisitioned, to take out a note and wait for an answer; while Coinneach and Calum, when they came to meet the mail, would be intercepted by the swift-footed Barbara, and entrusted with a message. Käthchen was convinced that the replies that came back from Eilean Heimra were kept and secretly pondered over: more than once she had seen Mary thrust a paper into her pocket when someone had suddenly come upon her. And she noticed that when they two were walking along the shore, her companion's attention would sometimes be so steadily and wistfully fixed on the distant island – which sometimes was dark and misty under trailing clouds of rain, and sometimes shining fair amid a wonder of blue seas and sunlight – that when she was spoken to she would look startled, as if summoned out of a dream.

One day there arrived, addressed to Miss Stanley, a wooden box that had the name of a well-known London florist printed on the label. The contents were a mass of flowers, all of them white; and Mary herself saw them taken out and carefully placed in water – for the pale wax-like buds of the tuberoses were hardly yet opened. Then she went to Kate Glendinning.

"Käthchen," she said, rather diffidently, "don't you think it is rather a sad thing, the lonely grave out there?"

"Do you mean at Heimra, Mamie?"

"Yes. It seems so hard that no one has ever a chance of showing sympathy – either with the dead or living. I have sent for some flowers; do you think we could go out and place them on the grave – without being seen?"

Käthchen was silent: it did not appear a very feasible project.

"I have been thinking it over," Mary continued, in the same humbly apologetic, almost shamefaced way – though what there was to be ashamed of Käthchen could not make out. "And, you see, if we landed at the little bay, he would be sure to come down to meet us, and – and we should have to tell him – and – and there are things you can't speak of. I would rather have this done quite unknown – as if it were by the hand of a stranger: perhaps I should like it better if Mr. Ross himself never knew. However, I was wondering if we could not get out to the west coast of the island without being seen, and then if there was a chance of our being able to get up to the top of the cliff that way. What do you think, Käthchen?"

"Let us go along and ask Big Archie," said Käthchen, with promptitude: and that suggestion commending itself to her friend, both of them at once went off and got ready, and proceeded to walk down through the village.

Big Archie they found on the beach, screwing the nails into a lobster-box. Käthchen put the matter briefly before him – telling him frankly the object of the expedition, and explaining their reasons for secrecy. The huge, heavy-shouldered fisherman listened attentively, stroking his voluminous beard the while.

"Well, mem," said he, in his plaintive Argyllshire intonation, "I am thinking it would be easy enough to get out to the island, for we could go round by the norse side. If the wind wass holding as it is now, we would lie aweh up the coast there, and if anyone on Heimra wass seeing the lugger, they would think I wass mekkin for the Eddrachilles fishing-banks; and then, when we were far enough we would put about and run down to the back of the island, and mek in for the shore. I am thinking there would be no diffeekwulty about that – aw, no, mem; we could get round to the back of the island ferry well; but it is the next thing that would be the sore thing for leddies to try – "

"You mean climbing up to the top of the cliff?" said Käthchen.

"Chist that! It's a terrible rough place the west side of Heimra," said Gilleasbuig Mor. "And where the big white stone is, it is fearful high."

"Mamie," said Käthchen, turning to her friend, "wouldn't it be better for you to send Archie out with some young lad who is used to the coast, and they could put the flowers on the grave for you?"

"I wish to place them there with my own hand," said Mary, simply. "But you needn't come, Käthchen."

"Of course I will, though!"

"Well, mem," said Big Archie, "I am not sure whether you will be able to get to the top that way, but we can go out and see whatever. And if the wind would hold till to-morrow morning, it would be a very good wind, both for going and coming."

"Very well, then, Archie," said Mary; "to-morrow morning we shall be ready to start between nine and ten."

The wind did hold, as it proved; and long before the young ladies made their appearance Big Archie and his assistant had the lugsail hoisted and the cumbrous craft smartened up as much as might be. Then he sent the lad along to Lochgarra House to see if there was anything to be fetched; but there was only a couple of waterproofs; when Mary and her friend came out, the former was herself carrying a small basket, containing the freshly-sprinkled flowers.

And so they set forth – making away in a north-westerly direction, which would have led anyone to imagine they were either going to certain well-known fishing-banks or that they intended to pay some visit not at all in the Heimra direction. But when at length they had got well out beyond the most northerly spur of the island, Big Archie altered his course, and bore down south, until they were quite near to these giant ramparts facing the Atlantic main. And already it appeared to the two girls that this expedition of theirs was a quite hopeless one. They were, it is true, under the lee of the island, and the water was smooth, so that they could get ashore wherever they wished; but who could scale those sterile and sombre precipices that, further to the south, rose sheer from the water, and seemed to afford not even foothold for a goat? Even Big Archie was discouraged.

"No, mem," he said to Miss Stanley, "it is no use going aweh down there to where the big white stone is. There's no luvvin crayture could get up – it's far worse than I wass remembering it. But if we went ashore here where we are, and tried to get up one of them corries, then mebbe we could get along the top. Will ye try that, mem?"

"Whatever you like, Archie," said she – the aspect of that frowning, lonely, precipitous coast seemed to have overawed her.

And indeed when they did eventually choose a landing-place, and when they began to look around them, the arduous nature of their task became abundantly apparent. First of all there were the tumbled rocks on the shore to be got over or avoided; then they proceeded up a narrow watercourse that here cleaved the land into a deep ravine; and this they ascended for some distance, scrambling up the loose wet shingle and stones. Big Archie led the way, and also he carried the little basket, for the two girls had frequently need of both hands to help them along, especially when they left the water-course, and began to force a path through the stunted birches that lined the sides of the chasm. It was a thicket of short trees, with intertwisted branches; while underfoot the long heather and bracken concealed loose, angular stones perilous to the ankle. Sometimes they had to pause, from absolute want of breath; and Big Archie, looking back, would also stop. But no one made any suggestion of giving up: there must be light and open space somewhere, if only one could win to the summit.

So they toiled and toiled on, in silence, startling now a fox and now a rabbit, until, at length, the stunted trees gave way to bushes, and these in turn gave way to knee-deep heather. It was still difficult to get along; but at least they had reached the open, and were presumably approaching the high plateaus: turning, they could look abroad over the wide Atlantic, the vast plain not showing one single ship. Their own boat, far below, was out of sight, so steep was this ascent they had made.

Here they rested for a minute or two, after their long and breathless struggle.

"One thing is quite certain, Mamie," said Käthchen, in rather a low voice, so that the big fisherman should not overhear, "When Mr. Ross finds these flowers on the grave, he will know very well who put them there."

"I am not sure that I want him to know," Mary answered, in an absent way. "I think I almost wish he were not to know. If he were to consider it merely a little kindness from some stranger – that would be better, it seems to me – it would be quite disinterested – "

"Why, what stranger could have managed to land on Heimra without being seen?" Käthchen asked; and as there was no answer to the question, they resumed their difficult progress, getting momentarily higher as they went along the summit of the cliffs.

But all at once Big Archie, who was some distance in front, halted, ducked his head, and immediately turned and came back.

"Miss Stanley, mem, Mr. Ross himself is there," said he.

"Mr. Ross!" said she, with frightened eyes.

"Ay. He is sitting on the heather, not far from the big white stone, and he is reading a book," said Big Archie. "He is often up there, mem. I am seeing him often and often when I am going by in the boat."