Donald Ross of Heimra (Volume 3 of 3)

"They may draw conclusions," said Kate Glendinning, looking at her.

"They are welcome to draw a cart-load of conclusions!" she retorted; but all the same she changed the subject quickly. "Do you know, Käthchen, it is quite wonderful how easily things go forward when Donald Ross is helping me. Look at the wood-carving class – started in a moment, almost; and that left-handed rascal turning out the cleverest of any of them. And then he is quite of a mind with me about corrugated iron – "

"You mean Mr. Ross, Mamie?" said Kate, demurely.

"Of course. Quite of a mind with me as to corrugated iron; and I won't have a square yard of it in the place. If, as he says, thatch takes too much time and labour, then they may have slates for their roofs, in place of the turf that I hope to see the last of before I have done with them; but not an inch of corrugated iron – not an inch. Oh, I tell you we will have Lochgarra smartened up in course of time, and Minard and Cruagan too. And I will never rest, Käthchen, I tell you I will never rest until Lochgarra has taken the first prize at the Inverness Exhibition – I mean for the best suit of men's clothes made from the wool of sheep fed on the croft, and carded, dyed, spun, hand-loom woven, and cut and sewn in the family. There! It may be a long time yet, but I mean Lochgarra to have it in the end."

"Oh, but you must not stop at that point," said Käthchen. "There are a whole heap of things to be done before you have finally established your earthly paradise. You must banish all sickness and illness – but especially rheumatism. You must abolish old age. You must control the climate to suit the crops. Perhaps you could magnetise the herring-shoals, and bring them round this way, and ward off storms at the same time?"

"Käthchen," said Mary abruptly, "why does he keep harking back on Manitoba? Don't you think there is a curious tenacity about his mind? – he does not change plans or opinions quickly. And I know he was resolved on that emigration scheme. Why does he still talk about Manitoba? If he really has abandoned that project, why does he still keep thinking about Portage, and La Prairie, and Brandon? Of course, I admit that a hundred and sixty acres for two pounds is very tempting; and forty bushels of wheat to the acre sounds well; and I have no doubt the emigrants have better clothes, and better food, and better cottages, and that they don't run such risks from floods and rain. But still – still there's something about one's own country – "

"You need not be afraid, Mamie," said Kate Glendinning again.

Mary went to the window, and remained there for a minute or two, looking absently across the wide plain of the sea.

"After all," she said, "it is a very pleasant and comfortable thing to have a neighbour. Heimra is a good way off; but all the same, if you knew there was no one living on the island, Lochgarra would be a very different place, wouldn't it, Käthchen? And Manitoba! Why, I have seen it stated that there is a most serious scarcity of water in a great many of the districts; and that often they have summer frosts that do incalculable mischief to the grain. So you see it isn't a certainty!"

"No, it is not," said Käthchen; "but I will tell you what is, Mamie. It is a certainty, an absolute certainty, that Donald Ross of Heimra will not go to Manitoba, or to any other corner of Canada, so long as Mary Stanley is living in Lochgarra."

"Käthchen," rejoined Mary, a little proudly, "you will go on talking like that until you believe what you say."

This same afternoon, shortly after luncheon, Mary left the house alone, which was unusual. She passed down through the village, greeting everyone, right and left, with a fine cheerfulness; for the weather still held good, and there was a fair chance for the harvest; while her individual schemes and industries were doing as well as could be expected. In fact, the only idle person in the place, apart from the aged and infirm, appeared to be John the policeman, and him she found by the bridge that crosses the Garra – no doubt he had been amusing himself by watching for some lively salmon or sea-trout on its way up the river. Iain seemed to have grown plumper and more roseate than ever in these piping times of peace; and the smile with which he greeted the young proprietress was good-nature itself.

"John," said she, "I want you to tell me something."

"Aw, yes, mem," said the amiable John; and then he added: "but the lads hef been keeping very quiet."

"So I hear," she answered him. "The Gillie Ciotach says he will smash the head of anyone that wants to fight; and I suppose that is one way to stop quarrelling."

John laughed, showing his milk-white teeth.

"A very good weh, too, mem. There's not many would like to hef their head brokken by the Gillie Ciotach."

"It is not about that I want you to give me some information," said Miss Stanley. "I want you to tell me if you have been long in this place. I mean, do you remember the old castle, up there in the loch, before it was pulled down?"

"Aw, yes, mem, yes, indeed," he made answer. "Who does not remember Castle Stanley?"

"Oh, nonsense with your Castle Stanley!" she said, angrily. "It never was Castle Stanley, and never will be Castle Stanley. It was Castle Heimra; and if I could have my way it would be Castle Heimra again – "

"Aw, yes, mem," said John, anxious to please, "who would be for calling it Castle Stanley? It is not Castle Stanley at ahl; it's just Castle Heimra, as it always was – ay, before any one can remember."

"Well, tell me; what size of a place was it before it was pulled down? Was it a big place?"

"Big!" repeated John, doubtfully, for he did not know which way she wished to be answered.

"Yes, was it a great ruin?" she went on. "Some of those old castles are mere towers, you know; and others are great strongholds. What was Castle Heimra like? Was it as big as Ardvreck?"

Now John had jumped to the conclusion that she wished to have the ancient glories of Castle Heimra magnified.

"Aw, far bigger nor Ardvreck!" he asserted confidently. "Aw, yes, yes; far bigger nor Ardvreck. A fearful big place, Castle Heimra – if you had seen the dingeons, and the towers, and the windows, and everything – "

"Oh, bigger than Ardvreck?" Mary said, with fallen face. And instantly John perceived that he had erred.

"Aw, no, mem," said he quickly. "Mebbe it was bigger nor Ardvreck at one time – that is a long time ago, before anyone about here can remember; but Castle Heimra? – aw, no! – a smahl place, a smahl place, indeed! There was nothing but the road out to it, when the loch was not too high flooded; and then the archway, and the dingeon, and the tower. Castle Heimra! – aw, it's a smahl place was Castle Heimra."

"And do you suppose it could be built up again?" she asked – but rather to see how far his complaisance would carry him.

"Quite easy!" said John, without a moment's hesitation.

"Why, how do you know?" she demanded. "Are you a builder?"

"The stons are there," John pointed out. "And if they were pulled down, it is easy to put them back. What has been done once can be done twice."

"Ah, but it would not be Castle Heimra," Mary said to herself, rather sadly, as she went on her solitary way.

In course of time she came within view of the desolate expanse of mud and stones and rushes that had once been Heimra loch; and when she chose out for herself a seat on a heathery hillock close to the road, there before her were the tumbled ruins of the stronghold that had withstood the storms of centuries only to fall before the withering blast of one man's spite. And as she sate there, alone, in the absolute silence, a kind of desperation came into her mind. In all other directions there was hope for her; but here there was none. Elsewhere she could labour, and patiently wait for fruition; but how was she to drag back the past? The future had abundant and fair possibilities within it; and she was naturally sanguine; her happiness consisted in action; and perhaps she was looking forward to the time when she could say to her lover, 'See, this is what I have striven to do – for your people: is it well or ill?' But as between him and her, would there not be ever and always the consciousness of this black deed that could in no wise be recalled or atoned for, that could never be forgiven or forgotten? She was not even allowed to speak: he had declined to hear her shamefaced expressions of sorrow. Nay, she began to think he was too proud, too implacable, that he would have no word uttered. And if she went to him and said: 'Donald, do not blame me! – I had no part in it: I would give my right hand to undo what has been done' – would not his looks still remain haughty and cold, telling her that she had not ceased to be the ban-sassunnach– a stranger – the enemy of his race and name?

There was a sound of wheels. She started to her feet, for there were tears in her eyes that she had to hide. The approaching vehicle turned out to be the mail-car; and on it were Mr. Purdie and Mr. Watson, seated beside the driver. Both of them raised their hats to her, and would doubtless have driven on, but that she called to the factor; whereupon the mail-car was stopped, and Mr. Purdie descended.

"Leave my bag at the inn, Jimmie," he said to the driver, who sent his horses on again: then the Troich Bheag Dhearg came along to the spot at which Mary awaited him.

"I wish to speak to you about one or two things, Mr. Purdie," she said, in a curiously reserved and frigid fashion. "You told me it was under your direction that the loch here was drained. I do not know whether my uncle was acting on the advice or suggestion of any one; I can hardly believe that so insensate a piece of malice could have entered his head without instigation. And if there was instigation, if this thing was done out of ill-will towards the Rosses of Heimra, then I say it was a cowardly blow – a mean, shameless, and cowardly blow!" Her lips were a little pale; but she was apparently quite calm.

"It was just the thrawn nature of the people about here that brought it on themselves," said the Little Red Dwarf, sullenly. "The Rosses of Heimra had no further concern with the loch and the castle, once the property was sold. They belonged to your uncle: surely it was for him to say what they should be called? Surely he had the right to do what he liked with his own?"

"In this instance," said Mary, still preserving that somewhat cold and distant demeanour, "what he did has got to be undone, as far as that is now possible. I suppose it would be useless to try and rebuild the castle. Even if the stones were put up again, it would hardly be Castle Heimra. But Loch Heimra can be restored to what it used to be; and since the mischief was done under your direction, Mr. Purdie, you can now take steps to repair it."

"Bless me, Miss Stanley," the factor protested, "it would be quite useless – perfectly useless! The loch was never worth anything to anybody. Salmon cannot get up; and there was nothing in it but a wheen brown trout – "

"It is not the value of the loch I am considering," she rejoined. "I wish to make some reparation, as far as I can. And I suppose if those channels you had cut were partially blocked up, the water from the hills would soon fill the lake again. Or you could bring the Connan round in this direction with very little trouble, and let it find its way down to the Garra after going through the loch – "

"The expense, Miss Stanley! – the expense!"

"I tell you I will have this done, if I have to sell Lochgarra House to do it!" she said – forgetting for a moment her austere demeanour. The factor had no further word. Mary went on: "It cannot be a difficult thing to do, any more than the draining was difficult; and it will give employment to some of the people, when the harvest is in and the fishing season over. So you'd better see about it at once, Mr. Purdie; and make arrangements. And there is to be no more talk of Loch Stanley or of Castle Stanley either; this is Loch Heimra; and if Castle Heimra has been pulled down – shamefully and wickedly pulled down – at least there are the ruins to show where it stood."

The factor remained darkly silent, his vindictive mouth drawn down, his small eyes morose. And little did she know what gall and wormwood she had poured into his heart, in directing him to employ those very Lochgarra people in this work of restoration. However, he made no further protest: indeed, he endeavoured to assume an air of hopeless acquiescence – it was his business to obey orders, even if she should bring the whole estate to waste and ruin.

But as they together set out to return to the village, and as she was talking over general business affairs with him, explaining what she had done and what she meant to do, he could not quite conceal his bitter resentment.

"It seems to me, Miss Stanley, that I am hardly wanted here. A strange condeetion of affairs. The factor the very last one to be consulted. And when I think of the way ye allow these people to impose on ye – well, maybe I'm not so much astonished; for what could one expect? – you come here an absolute stranger, and you wish to do without them that have experience of the place, and of course you believe every tale that is told ye. Though I say it who maybe should not, Lochgarra was a well-managed estate; everything actually valued, and in order; and the tenants, large and small, knowing fine that they had to fulfil their contracts, or take the consequences. But what prevails now? A system of wholesale charity, as it seems to me. It is giving everything, and getting nothing. I hope, Miss Stanley," he went on, "ye will not mind my speaking warmly; for I've done my best for my employers all my life through; and I cannot be supposed to like other ways and means – which were never contemplated by the law of the land. If the other proprietors were to go on as you are doing, there's three-fourths o' them would be in beggary – "

"It might do them good to try a little of it," said she – which was an odd speech for the owner of a considerable estate.

"And what has been the result?" he demanded. "What has been gained by so much sacrifice?"

"Well," said she, "for one thing, the people are more contented. And they are more friendly towards me. When I came here at first I was hated; now I am not so much so. Quite friendly most of them are – or, at least, they appear to be."

"Ay, trust them for that!" said the Little Red Dwarf, scornfully. "Trust them for that – the cunningest mongrels that ever whined for a bone! Well they know how to fawn and beslaver, when they're expecting more and more. I tell ye, Miss Stanley, ye do not understand these creatures, and it angers me to think that ye are being cheated and imposed on right and left. Getting more boats and nets? – they'll laugh at ye, they'll just laugh at ye when ye ask them to pay up the instalments! And who is your adviser? – a young man who is in secret league with them – an underhand, conspiring ne'er-do-weel, as cunning as any one of them, and as treacherous – "