CHAPTER VIII
A REVOLUTION THAT FAILED
But at first the two young men – especially when they were in the society of the young women – professed to make light of the threatened invasion. What harm could come of allowing a parcel of notoriety-hunting adventurers to air their eloquence – and their ignorance? The crofters would at once perceive that Ogden, M.P., knew no more about them and their ways of life than he knew about the inhabitants of the moon. As for Mademoiselle Ernestine – the fiery Ernestine would find it difficult to set the Highland peat-bogs in a blaze with her little tin can of paraffin. And as for Mrs. Jackson Noyes of Connecticut – but here the young men had to confess that they knew nothing of Mrs. Jackson Noyes; and so, to amuse themselves, at dinner, they set to work to construct an imaginary Mrs. Noyes out of a series of guesses.
"She is a passionate sympathiser with all suffering races – especially married women," said Mr. Meredyth, confidently.
"Men are brutes," observed Fred Stanley.
"She will denounce the hideous cruelty of landlords stalking grouse with express rifles," said Meredyth, keeping the ball rolling.
"She will call on the crofters to arise in their wrath and demand that of every stag killed two haunches must be delivered over to them, the remaining two to be retained by the landlord."
"But doesn't that sound reasonable?" said Käthchen, innocently – whereat there was a roar.
"Miss Glendinning," said Meredyth, apologetically, "you forget: the haunches of a stag are limited in number. It was Mrs. Jackson Noyes's idea of a stag we were dealing with. Well, Fred, what next?"
"Any landlord or farmer," continued the younger man, with a matter-of-fact air, "found guilty of killing a sheep without the aid of chloroform to be sent to jail for twenty-five years. No lamb to be taken away from its mother without the mother's consent – in writing, stamped, sealed, and delivered before the Sheriff of Dingwall."
"A compulsory rate," suggested Frank Meredyth, "levied on landlords, of course – for the relief of bed-ridden peat-hags – "
"Oh, stop that nonsense!" Mary interposed, laughing in a shamefaced kind of way. "They can't be as ignorant as all that."
"Oh, can't they?" said he, coolly. "I've seen lots of worse things – accompanied by eloquent, if occasionally ungrammatical, denunciations of the brutal landlords. You are a landlord, Miss Stanley; and you have taken the wages of blood and sin. If I were you I should feel inclined to throw down the thirty pieces of silver and depart and go and hang myself."
"She won't do that," said her brother. "But what she is more likely to do is to give up the pasture of Meall-na-Fearn that those people demand. And then Mrs. Jackson Noyes will telegraph to the Connecticut Radiator that a great triumph has been achieved, and that the American banner has begun to wave over the benighted Highlands."
"I wish the American banner didn't wave over so many Highland deer-forests," said Meredyth, briefly; and there an end for the moment.
But the talk of the two young men when they were by themselves was very different.
"What ought to be done, and done at once," said Fred Stanley, "is to send over to Dingwall for a body of police. Indeed, the meeting should be suppressed altogether: it is a clear instigation to riot. I don't see how a riot can be avoided – if those howlers are allowed to rave. But my sister won't hear of it. Oh, no! Everything is to be amiable and friendly and pleasant. She is quite sure that the crofters are grateful to her for their lowered rents and all that. Grateful! – they don't know what gratitude is!"
"But at all events you must remember this," said Meredyth, "that your sister has been here a much longer time than you; and she has been doing her best to get to understand these people and their wants and their habits of thinking. She may be a little too confident: in that case, it is for you and me to see that she is kept out of harm's way. And as far as I can judge, the main event of the day is to be a raid into Glen Orme forest – "
"By the Lord, they'll get a warm reception if they try that!" young Stanley broke in. "I can tell you, from what I've heard of him, Colonel Tomlins isn't the sort of man to let a lot of vagabonds march past Glen Orme Lodge and take possession of the forest – I should think not. The ragged army will find a sufficient force awaiting them – keepers, foresters, gillies, and the guns of the house-party: there may be driving – but it won't be the deer that will be driven off."
"That as it may be," said Meredyth, with much calmness. "But even if there is a scrimmage up there, what has that got to do with us? I don't care a brass farthing about the Glen Orme deer; I want to see your sister safe. And if the torrent of revolution flows peacefully past this house, and goes to expend itself in Glen Orme – let it, and welcome!"
"Yes, but that is too much to expect," Fred Stanley said, gloomily. "It is my sister who will be preached against by those fanatics. It is she who is the representative here of the landlord interest. Gratitude! – it's precious little gratitude they'll show, when they have this fellow Donald Ross secretly egging them on. Of course, he is annoyed that you and I should have come up to interfere with him; he thought he would only have a woman to deal with; and that the keepers could make all kinds of excuses to her. But now he finds it different. I imagine he knows very well that he is suspected and watched, and that there is a chance of his being caught at any moment – a chance that I mean to make a certainty of before I leave this place!"
"My young friend," said Meredyth, dispassionately, "I'm afraid you are becoming entêté about this Donald Ross. And yet I don't wonder at it. I've seen a similar state of affairs, many a time, before now. The fact is, when once you suspect poaching, the suspicion becomes a sort of mania, and all your comfort in the shooting is gone. It is precisely the same on board a yacht. If you once suspect your skipper or your steward of drinking, it's all over with you; you are always looking out – mistrusting – imagining; you may as well go ashore at once, or get another skipper or steward. Of course, the poaching is still more vexatious; for you feel you are being defied and cheated at the same time; and you want revenge; and the poacher is generally a devil of a clever fellow. But, after all, Fred, your sister is right: even if you are convinced that there is poaching going on – as there has certainly been some little ill-will shown against us now and then – still, you have nothing to prove that Donald Ross is the culprit – nothing."
"I will catch him yet," said Fred Stanley under his breath.
Next morning being Sunday morning, they all went to church. In going down through the village they could perceive no sign of excitement, anticipatory of the next day: on the contrary, all was decorous quiet. Shutters were shut; in some cases the blinds were drawn down; the few people they saw were dressed in black, and were certainly not breaking the Lord's day by idle or frivolous conversation. But here was John the policeman.
"Well, John," said Mary, to the plump and placid Iain, who smiled good-naturedly when she addressed him, "are we to have civil war to-morrow?"
"Mem?" said John – not understanding.
"Is there going to be a riot to-morrow?" she repeated.
"Aw, no, mem," said John, in a mildly deprecating way. "I am not thinking that. The meeting it will be in the church, and there is the Minister."
"And what are you going to do?" said she. "I suppose you know they threaten to drive the sheep off Meall-na-Fearn, and there is a proposal to go into Glen Orme forest. Well, what are you going to do?"
"I am not sure," said Iain, with a vague, propitiatory grin.
"You have taken no steps to preserve the peace, then?" she demanded – but, indeed, she was well aware of John's comfortable, easy-going optimism.
"Aw, well," said the round-cheeked representative of the law, "mebbe the lads will no do anything at ahl; and if they go into the forest, mebbe they will no do mich harm."
"But I suppose you have heard that Colonel Tomlins's keepers and foresters mean to stop them, if they should attempt any such thing; and it isn't at all likely that Mr. Watson's shepherds will let them drive the sheep off Meall-na-Fearn without some kind of resistance. What then? What are you going to do?"
"Aw, well," said John – letting his eyes rove aimlessly away towards Heimra Island, and then to the little white Free Church beyond the bay, and then back to the ground in front of Miss Stanley's feet, "mebbe there will be no mich harm; and the Minister will be in charge whatever – "
"Look here, John," Fred Stanley broke in, peremptorily, "it is quite clear to me that you mean to stand by and let anything happen that is likely to happen. Very well, I wish to give you notice – and I wish the people about here to understand – that if there's any demonstration made against Lochgarra House, we've got a gun or two there – half a dozen of them – and we don't mean to stand any nonsense."
"Fred!" said she, and she drew her head up: he was put to silence in a moment. Then she turned to the phlegmatic Iain. "You must do what you can to give good advice to any of the young men you may hear talking. These strangers that are coming – what do they know about Lochgarra? They only wish to stir up strife, for their own purposes. And it would be a very bad thing for any of the men about here to be sent for trial to Edinburgh, merely because these strangers were bent on making mischief.
"Yes, mem," answered Iain, obediently – but in a vague way: perhaps he did not quite comprehend.
"John," said Fred Stanley, coming to the front again, "do you know anything about the scringeing that goes on about here?"
This time John did understand.
"Me, sir?" he replied – as if such a question were an insult to the dignity of his office. And perhaps he would have gone on to protest as earnestly as his good-humoured laziness would allow, that he had no knowledge of any such illegal practices, but that Mary Stanley intervened, and carried her party off with her to church.
Of course it was the English portion of the day's services that they attended, in the little, plain, ill-ventilated building. The sermon was so severely doctrinal that they could not follow it very well; while the occasional appeals to the heart, uttered in that high falsetto sing-song, fell with a somewhat unnatural note on the ear. Yet the small congregation listened devoutly – with an occasional sigh. Mary Stanley's attention was not occupied much with the pulpit: she was looking rather at the sad, withered, weather-worn faces of certain of the older people – and thinking what their lot in life had been. She recalled a saying she had heard somewhere in the Black Forest – "The world grows every day harder for us poor folk that are so old;" and she was wondering when her modest, but at least assiduous and sincere, efforts to somewhat better their condition and introduce a measure of cheerfulness into their surroundings would be accepted with a little goodwill. As for the middle-aged and younger men, she was less concerned about them. If they meant to break the windows of Lochgarra House next day, or pillage the garden, or set fire to the kennels, she would stand by and let them do their worst. But she did not think she had deserved such treatment at their hands. When they came out of church again Miss Stanley and her friends lingered awhile, for she wished to intercept the Minister; and eventually Mr. Pettigrew made his appearance. As he approached them, Mr. Pettigrew's gaunt and grey-hued face wore a certain look of apprehension, and he was nervously stroking his long and straggling beard. But Mary received him pleasantly enough.
"How do you do, Mr. Pettigrew?" said she. "I thought I should like to know whether you are going to the gathering to-morrow. If these placards that are scattered about mean anything, it may be necessary for someone who is well acquainted with the people to be present to speak a quieting word; and as you have lent the church for the purposes of the meeting, I suppose you accept a certain responsibility – "
"Oh, no, Miss Stanley, I would not say that," the Minister responded, rather anxiously, "I would not say that. I think it is a wise thing and a just thing that the people should have an opportunity of conferring one with another about their temporal interests; but it is not for me to be a partisan. I would fain see all men's minds contented as regards their worldly affairs, so that they might the more readily turn to their spiritual requirements and needs. Ay. It is hardly for me to give counsel – either the counsel of Ahitophel or the counsel of Hushai the Archite – "
"And so," said Käthchen, striking in (for she had not yet had a chance of opening her mind to Mr. Pettigrew), "you invite these strangers to come here and stir up contention and mischief – you give them your pulpit to preach from – and then you step aside, and wash your hands of all responsibility! I should have thought a minister of the gospel would have been on the side of peace, not on the side of disturbance and riot – "
"Dear me – dear me – it is all a mistake!" the bewildered Minister exclaimed. "I assure ye it is all a mistake. I did not invite them – Mr. Fraser wrote to me – and I thought I was justified in giving them permission – so that all men's minds might be leeberated. Is not that on the side of peace? Let the truth be spoken, though the heavens fall! – it's a noble axiom – a noble axiom. If the message that these people bring with them have not the truth in it, it will perish; if it have the truth in it, it will endure – "
"Yes, that's all very well," said the intrepid Käthchen. "But in the meantime? What's going to happen in the meantime? And if there is a general riot to-morrow, and property destroyed, and people injured – the truth of the message won't mend that. And what do those people know about Lochgarra? How can they know anything? They are coming here merely to incite a lot of ignorant crofters and cottars to break the law; and you lend them your pulpit, so that the people about here will think the church is on their side, even if they should take it into their heads to set fire to Lochgarra House!"
"Dear me!" said the Minister – who had not expected any such attack from this amiable and rather nice-looking young lady, "I hope nothing of the kind will happen."
"At all events, Mr. Pettigrew," said Mary, interposing, "I understand you don't mean to be present at this meeting? You will let those strangers talk whatever inflammatory stuff they choose without any word of protest or caution. Well, I suppose you have the right to decide for yourself. But I mean to go. If they have anything to say against me, I want to hear it. If I have no one to defend me, I must defend myself – "
"Oh, but I beg your pardon, Miss Stanley!" Frank Meredyth broke in. "You are not quite so defenceless – not at all! For my own part, I don't think you ought to go to this meeting – I think it will be unwise and uncalled for; but if you do go, you sha'n't go alone – I will see to that."
And again, after they had left the Minister, and were on their way back to Lochgarra House, he urgently begged her to abandon this enterprise; and her brother joined in, and quite as warmly.
"Why, you are the very person they have come to denounce!" Fred Stanley exclaimed. "You are the representative of the landlords. And what will they think of your appearing at the meeting? They will take it as an open challenge!"
"I mean it as an open challenge," she said, proudly. "I want to know what I am accused of. I want to ask what more I could have done – with my limited means. For of course my means are limited. I can't build breakwaters, and buy fleets of fishing-boats, and make railways; for I haven't the money. And I can't change the soil, or alter the climate, or even alter the habits of the people."
"What did I tell you, Mamie, at Invershin Station?" said Käthchen; but Mary Stanley went on unheeding —
"If there are grievances still to be redressed, I want to hear of them."
"Their real grievance is that they haven't got the land for nothing," observed her brother, who had a short and summary way of dealing with such questions.
"Well, if you must go, at least we can promise you a body-guard," said Frank Meredyth, as they were ascending the wide stone steps. "At the same time, I think you would be very much better advised to stay at home."
That afternoon the ordinary dull somnolence of a Lochgarra Sunday gave way to a quite unusual, if subdued, excitement. To begin with, about half-past three a waggonette came rattling into the silent little village, and drew up at the inn; while its occupants – the three apostles of Land Liberation – descended and disappeared from view. They were not gone long, however. The cottagers, furtively peeping from behind door or window-blind, beheld the strangers come out again and set off for a walk along the sea-front, scanning every object on each hand of them as they passed. The central figure of the three was a large and heavily-built man, pale and flabby of face, with small, piggish, twinkling eyes, close-cropped and stubbly yellow hair, and a wide but thin-lipped and resolute mouth. He wore a loose-flapping frock-coat, and a black felt wideawake; his hands were clasped behind him; he waddled as he walked. On his right was a tall and elderly woman, spare, and rather elegant of figure; with a thin, sharp face which, either from constitutional acridity of blood or perhaps from driving in the sun, was distinctly violent in colour: this was Ernestine – the fiery Ernestine – who had no doubt brought with her her torch and can of paraffin. As for the lady who had come all the way across the Atlantic to enlighten these poor souls of crofters, no one could say what she was like; for she was entirely enveloped in a brown dust-coat and a blue veil. But she was shorter than either of her companions.
"There are only three of them – there ought to be four," said Frank Meredyth, as the Lochgarra House party were regarding these passing strangers from the drawing-room window. "The big man is Ogden – he is easily recognisable – I'm afraid he has puffed himself out with too much tea-drinking; but where is the Highland Land Leaguer?"
"Why, you don't suppose the vice-president of a branch of the Highland Land League would travel on a Sunday?" said Käthchen. "He will be coming along to-morrow morning, – even if he has to walk or drive all night."
Mary was also regarding the strangers.
"If the American woman, whichever she is," said she, quietly, "is going to denounce me to-morrow, she has not left herself much time to get information about this place. She will have to begin at once, if she wishes to ascertain the facts."
"The facts!" said Meredyth. "She won't have to search about for them. She has brought them with her – from Connecticut."
Truly this was an afternoon of surprises. For while on a rare occasion it might happen that someone arrived at Lochgarra on Sunday by road, it was almost an unheard-of thing that anyone should come in by sea. Boating of any description was quite unknown on the sacred day; there was no ferry – no Queen's highway to be kept open; while as for going on the water for pleasure, such sacrilege never entered the brain of a native of Lochgarra. And yet here, unmistakeably, was a small black-hulled lugger, with a ruddy brown sail, coming steadily in before the light westerly breeze; and when, having at length gained the shelter of the quay, she was rounded into the wind, and yard and sail lowered, her occupants presently got into the little dinghey astern, and came ashore. From the drawing-room of Lochgarra House they were easily distinguishable: they were Big Archie, Donald Ross of Heimra, and the young lad who was usually in charge of the lugger. When they landed, young Ross left his companions, and went directly up to the inn.
"Ha! didn't I tell you?" Fred Stanley cried, with an air of triumph. "Before the storm the petrel! – I thought we should see him somewhere about, when this affair was coming off. Only, he has missed his confederates. I wonder if they have gone far. I suppose Mr. Ogden has taken his American friend up Minard way to show her what a crofter's cottage is like – or perhaps she wants to look at the bed-ridden peat-hags. We shall find Ross following them in a moment – only he won't know which way they have gone." Of a sudden he rose from his seat, as if struck by some new idea. "I've a great mind to go down to the inn. What do you say, Frank? I should like to step up to him and tell him that he'll find his friends if he goes up the Minard road."
"You shall do nothing of the kind!" said Mary, angrily.
"I should like to see the expression of his face!" her brother observed.
"If they are friends of Mr. Ross, he can find them for himself," said she. "It is none of our business. And – and – if they are not – I won't have him insulted by anyone going from this house!"
He looked at her: she did not often talk in this indignant and vehement way.
"Oh, very well," he said. "Very well. It doesn't matter to me. You may have cause to change your opinion to-morrow."
All that evening very little mention was made of the subject about which everyone was secretly thinking. Frank Meredyth, finding it was of no use to try to move Mary from her purpose, thought the best thing he could do was to reassure her: he said he hoped Ernestine would prove amusing. And next morning, too, he professed to treat the whole affair as a jest; but all the same he kept going to the window from time to time, to have a look at the little groups of twos and threes who were congregated here and there, talking amongst themselves. For there was clearly some small commotion prevailing; the people were not attending to their ordinary affairs; the most trifling occurrence – a dog-fight in the street – attracted all eyes.
Mary insisted on setting out early; she wished everyone to see that she was going to attend the meeting. And hardly had they left the house – they were going round by the end of the quay – when Fred Stanley said in an undertone to his neighbour Meredyth —
"I don't know what's going to happen; but if they try on any games, I've got a little friend in my pocket here that can bark – and bite."
Mary overheard, and turned on him at once.
"What is that?" said she. "Your revolver? Let me see it."
He looked round: there was no one by.
"Oh, it is an elegant little companion to have with you," he said, bringing forth the silver-mounted weapon from his pocket, and regarding it quite affectionately.
She took it from him – he thinking that she merely wished to look at it – and, without more ado, she pitched it over the low sea-wall: there was a splash in the clear green water, and a bubble or two of air.
"Things of that sort are not fit for children," she said – and she took no heed of the angry flush that at once rose to his forehead: anger more probably caused by the reference to his youth than to the loss of his revolver. However, he said nothing; and so they went on again; and eventually arrived at the church.
When they entered the little building and modestly took their places in the nearest of the pews, there ensued a rather awkward moment; for they had come early; and, on looking round, they found that the only other persons present were they who had summoned the meeting; so that the hostile camps had a good opportunity of contemplating each other. The pulpit (like the body of the church) was empty; but in the precentor's box was a serious-visaged, brown-bearded man, who was no doubt Mr. Fraser, of the Stratherrick Branch of the Highland Land League; while underneath him, in the square space partitioned off for the pews of the elders, sate the three persons who were to address the meeting. They were all gravely silent, as was fit and proper; but their eyes were alert; and it was as clear as daylight to Mary's friends that the strangers had recognised in her the lady of Lochgarra House, whom they had come to impeach as the representative in these parts of the iniquitous landlord interest. It was indeed an awkward moment; and Mr. Ogden's glances of scrutiny were furtive, until he turned away altogether; but the thin and feverish-faced Mlle. Ernestine took more confident survey; and her bold black eyes went from one to the other of the group, but were most frequently fixed on Mary Stanley. The lady from Connecticut, also, was obviously curious: most probably she had never beheld before any of those people whose malevolent turpitude had brought the Highlands to such a pass.
The time went slowly by, in this constrained silence. The vice-president of the Stratherrick Branch, from his seat in the precentor's box, began to look rather anxiously towards the door. Mr. Ogden glanced at his watch. Frank Meredyth did likewise – it was ten minutes after one. And yet there had been no sign of any human being – except for a small boy who had thrust his shock head in for a second, and gazed wonderingly around the empty church, and then withdrawn with a scared face. At length the chairman leaned over the edge of the precentor's box, and in an audible whisper said —
"Mr. Ogden, I'm thinking ye'd better go out and tell them?"
Mr. Ogden hesitated for a moment, and then made answer —
"Don't you think we should begin the proceedings? – that will be the best announcement."
"Very well," said Mr. Fraser; and he rose in his place with a heavy sigh of preparation. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "before coming to local matters, I will ask Mrs. Jackson Noyes to read a paper that she has prepared. Mrs. Noyes has recently completed a two days' trip round the West Highlands in the steamer Dunara Castle; and where she has been unable to land – for the steamer does not give ye much time at any place – she has used her eyes, or her opera-glass, impartially; and what she has seen she has put down. The title of the paper is; 'The Horrible Desolation of the Highlands, as Descried from the Deck of the Dunara.' Would ye get up on the bench, mem?"
This last murmured invitation was addressed to Mrs. Noyes, who rose to her feet, but seemed to shrink from taking up any more prominent position. Indeed, the poor woman looked dreadfully embarrassed; her face was all aflame; instead of proceeding with her paper, she kept glancing helplessly towards the door, whither Mr. Ogden had gone to reconnoitre; and it was clear she could not bring herself to begin without an audience, or, rather, with that small audience that was a hundred times worse than none. And presently Mr. Ogden came back – his face black as thunder. He went up to the precentor's box, and muttered something to the chairman. He returned to the elders' enclosure, and said something to the two ladies – who seemed entirely bewildered. The next moment the four of them had filed out of the church, without a word.
"Well, this is the most astounding thing!" Frank Meredyth exclaimed, when his party had also left their places, and got into the open air. "What is the matter with the people? Not a living soul has come near the place! No wonder the big Parliament-man was in a furious rage!"
But Mary had turned to Kate Glendinning, who had fallen a step or two behind.
"Käthchen," she said, in an undertone, "what is the meaning of all this? I can see perfectly well you know something about it."
For indeed Käthchen was all tremblingly triumphant, and joyous, and also inclined to tears – half-hysterical, in short.
"Mamie – Mamie," she said, between that laughing and crying, "I knew he could do it if he liked – and – and – I thought he would – for your sake – "
"What are you talking about?" said Mary: but a sudden self-conscious look showed that she had guessed.
"You needn't be angry, Mamie," said Käthchen, her wet eyes shining with a half-concealed pride and delight; "but – but I was terribly frightened about what might happen to you; and yesterday I sent Big Archie out to Heimra – I told him to go as soon as the people had got into church – and I gave him a note. For I knew he would answer the message at once – and that he would see you came to no harm – "
"Do you mean Donald Ross?" said Mary, rather breathlessly.
"Who else could have done it?" said Käthchen, with something of reproach. "And I knew he would do that – or anything – for your sake. Oh, do you think I can't see? – do you think I have no eyes?"
Mary did not answer: she walked on in silence for a little while. But by and by she said —
"Käthchen, don't you think I ought to see Mr. Ross – before he goes back to Heimra?"