The Leithen Stories. Buchan John
in the river, parting his damp hair with a broken comb, and putting over his shoulders a waterproof cape, which had dropped from some passing conveyance and had been found by him on the road. Thus accoutred, he crossed the river and by devious paths ascended to Crask.
He ensconced himself in the stable, where he was greeted sourly by the Bluidy Mackenzie, who was tied up in one of the stalls. There he occupied himself in whistling strathspeys and stuffing a foul clay pipe with the stump of a cigar which he had picked up in the yard. Benjie smoked not for pleasure, but from a sense of duty, and a few whiffs were all he could manage with comfort. The gloaming had fallen before he heard his name called, and Wattie Lithgow appeared. ‘Ye’re there, ye monkey? The gentlemen are askin’ for ye. Quick and follow me. They’re in an awfu’ ill key the nicht and maunna be keepit waitin’.’
There certainly seemed trouble in the smoking-room when Benjie was ushered in. Lamancha was standing on the hearth-rug with a letter crumpled in his hand, and Sir Archie, waving a missive, was excitedly confronting him. The other two sat in arm-chairs with an air of protest and dejection.
‘I forgot all about the infernal thing till I got Montgomery’s letter. The 4th of September! Hang it, my assault on old Claybody is timed to start on the 5th. How on earth can I get to Muirtown and back and deliver a speech, and be ready for the 5th? Besides, it betrays my presence in this part of the world. It simply can’t be done … and yet I don’t know how on earth to get out of it? Apparently the thing was arranged months ago.’
‘You’re for it all right, my son,’ cried Sir Archie, ‘and so am I. Here’s the beastly announcement. “A Great Conservative Meeting will be held in the Town Hall, Muirtown, on Thursday, September 4th, to be addressed by the Right Hon. the Earl of Lamancha, M.P., His Majesty’s Secretary of State for the Dominions. The chair will be taken at 3 p.m. by His Grace the Duke of Angus, K. G. Among the speakers will be Colonel Wavertree, M.P., the Hon. W.J. Murdoch, Ex-Premier of New Caledonia, and Captain Sir Archibald Roylance, D.S.O., prospective Conservative candidate for Wester Ross.” Oh, will he? Not by a long chalk! Catch me going to such a fiasco, with Charles hidin’ here and the show left to the tender mercies of two rotten bad speakers and a prosy chairman.’
‘Did you forget about it too?’ Leithen asked.
‘ ’Course I did,’ said Archie wildly. ‘How could I think of anything with you fellows turnin’ my house into a den of thieves? I forgot about it just as completely as Charles, only it doesn’t matter about me, and it matters the devil of a lot about him. I don’t stand an earthly chance of winnin’ the seat, if, first of all, I mustn’t canvass because of smallpox, and, second, my big meetin’, on which all my fellows counted, is wrecked by Charles playin’ the fool.’
Lamancha’s dark face broke into a smile.
‘Don’t worry, old chap. I won’t let you down. But it looks as if I must let down John Macnab, and just when I was gettin’ keen about him … Hang it, no! There must be a way. I’m not going to be beaten either by Claybody or this damned Tory rally. Ned, you slacker, what’s your advice?’
‘Have a try at the double event,’ Leithen drawled. ‘You’ll probably make a mess of both, but it’s a sporting proposition.’
Archie’s face brightened. ‘You don’t realise how sportin’ a proposition it is. The Claybodys will be there, and they’ll be all over you – brother nobleman, you know, and you goin’ to poach their stags next day! Hang it, why shouldn’t you turn the affair into camouflage? “Out of my stony griefs Bethel I’ll raise,” says the hymn … We’ll have to think the thing out very carefully. – Anyway, Charles, you’ve got to help me with my speech. I don’t mind so much lyin’ doggo here if I can put in a bit of good work on the 5th … Now, Benjie my lad, for your report.’
Benjie, not without a certain shyness, cleared his throat and began. He narrated how, following his instructions, he had secured Macpherson’s permission to cut heather for besoms on the Raden haugh. He had duly taken up his post there, had remained till four o’clock, and had seen such and such people and heard this and that talk. He recounted what he could remember of the speeches of Macpherson and the gillies.
‘They’ve got accustomed to the sight of you, I suppose,’ Palliser-Yeates said at length.
‘Aye, they’re accustomed right enough. Both the young lady and Macpherson was tellin’ me to keep a look-out for poachers.’ Benjie chuckled.
‘Then tomorrow you begin to move up to the high ground by the Carnmore peat-road. Still keep busy at your besoms. You understand what I want you for, Benjie? If I kill a stag I have to get it off Glenraden land, and your old fish-cart won’t be suspected.’
‘Aye, I see that fine. But I’ve been thinkin’ that there’s maybe a better way.’
‘Go ahead, and let’s have it.’
Benjie began his speech nervously, but he soon warmed to it, and borrowed a cigar-box and the fire-irons to explain his case. The interest of his hearers kindled, until all four men were hanging on his words. When he concluded and had answered sundry questions, Sir Archie drew a deep breath and laughed excitedly.
‘I suppose there’s nothing in that that isn’t quite cricket … I thought I knew something about bluff, but this – this absolutely vanquishes the band. Benjie, I’m goin’ to have you taught poker. You’ve the right kind of mind for it.’
SHORTLY AFTER MIDNIGHT of the 28th day of August three men foregathered at the door of Macpherson’s cottage, and after a few words took each a different road into the dark wastes of wood and heather. Macpherson contented himself with a patrol of the low ground in the glen, for his legs were not as nimble as they once had been and his back had a rheuma ticky stiffness. Alan departed with great strides for the Carnbeg tops, and James Fraser, the youngest and the leanest, set out for Carnmore, with the speed of an Indian hunter … Darkness gave place to the translucence of early dawn: the badger trotted home from his wanderings: the hill-fox barked in the cairns to summon his household: sleepy pipits awoke: the peregrine who lived above the Grey Beallach drifted down into the glens to look for breakfast: hinds and calves moved up from the hazel shaws to the high fresh pastures: the tiny rustling noises of night disappeared in that hush which precedes the awakening of life: and then came the flood of morning gold from behind the dim eastern mountains, and in an instant the earth had wheeled into a new day. A thin spire of smoke rose from Mrs Macpherson’s chimney, and presently the three wardens of the marches arrived for breakfast. They reported that the forest was still unviolated, that no alien foot had yet entered its sacred confines. Herd-boys, the offspring of Alan and James Fraser, had taken up their post at key-points, so that if a human being was seen on the glacis of the fort the fact would at once be reported to the garrison.
‘I’m thinkin’ he’ll no come to-day,’ said Macpherson after his third cup of tea. ‘It will be the morn. The day he will be tryin’ to confuse our minds, and that will no be a difficult job wi’ you, Alan, my son.’
‘He’ll come in the da-ark,’ said Alan crossly.
‘And how would he be gettin’ a beast in the dark? The Laird was sayin’ that this man John Macnab was a gra-and sportsman. He will not be shootin’ at any little staggie, but takin’ a sizeable beast, and it’s not a howlet could be tellin’ a calf from a stag in these da-ark nights. Na, he will not shoot in the night, but he might be travellin’ in the night and gettin’ his shot in the early mornin’.’
‘What for,’ Alan asked, ‘should he not be havin’ his shot in the gloamin’ and gettin’ the beast off the ground in the da-ark?’
‘Because