Donald Ross of Heimra (Volume 1 of 3). William Black
impassive expression of face – an expression of face that convinced Mr. Purdie, who was prone to suspicion, that the man had lied.
It was a kind of bewilderment to her, this taking possession: the going up the wide stone steps, the gazing round the lofty oak hall, the finding herself waited upon by those shy-eyed soft-spoken Highland maids. But when she was in the retirement of her own room, whither she had been accompanied by the faithful Kate, one thing stood out clear to her mind from amid all the long day's doings.
"Käthchen," said she – and she was pacing up and down the room – or going from window to window without looking out – as was some-times her habit when she was excited – "I mean to have my own way in this. It is not enough that the tax should be abolished – it is not enough. No doubt those poor people were saved from the risk of floods; but on the other hand the property was permanently improved; and it is monstrous that they should be expected to go on paying for ever. I tell you they have paid too much already; and I mean to see things made right. What do I care for Mr. Purdie, or the neighbouring landlords? If Mr. Purdie has any business to talk of when he comes along this evening – well, my little piece of business must take precedence. I am going to give Mr. Purdie the first of his instructions."
She paused for a second – and then she spoke with rather a proud and determined air: "Fifteen years of that tax to be remitted and returned!"
"Godiva!" said Käthchen, again; but there was not much sarcasm in her smiling eyes.
CHAPTER II.
YOUNG DONALD
"And if I am not the laird," said Miss Stanley, as the three of them took their places at table – for Mr. Purdie had accepted an invitation, and had come along from the inn to dine with the two young ladies – "if I am not the laird, I want to know who is the laird: I mean, I want to know all about my rival. What was it the stubborn old crofter called him? Young Donald – Young Ross of Heimra – well, tell me all about him, Mr. Purdie!"
But to Mary's surprise, the Little Red Dwarf remained sternly mute. Yet there was no one in the room besides themselves except the maid who was waiting at table – a tall and good-looking Highland lass, whose pretty way of speech, and gentle manner, and shy eyes had already made a pleasant impression on her young mistress. All the same, the factor remained silent until the girl had gone.
"I would just advise ye, Miss Stanley," said he, rather moderating his voice, which ordinarily was inclined to be aggressive and raucous, "I would just advise ye to have a care what ye say before these people. They're all in a pact; and they're sly and cunning – just beyond belief; ay, and ready to do ye a mischief, the thrawn ill-willed creatures!"
"Oh, Mr. Purdie!" Mary protested, in her good-humoured way, "you mustn't try to prejudice me like that! I have already had a little talk with Barbara; and I could not but think of what Dr. Johnson said – that every Highland girl is a gentlewoman."
"And not a word they utter is to be believed – no, not with a Bible in their hands," the factor went on, in spite of her remonstrance. "Miss Stanley, did ye hear me ask the driver as we came through the village if he had seen the yacht out by Heimra island – the yacht that ye saw with your own eyes? He said no – he had not seen it – and I knew by his face he was lying to me."
"But, Mr. Purdie," said Mary, again, "you did not see the yacht either. And I may have been mistaken."
"Ye were not mistaken," said the factor, with vicious emphasis. "For well I know what that was. That was nothing else than young Ross coming back from one of his smuggling expedeetions – the thieving, poaching scoundrel! – and little thinking that I would be coming out to Lochgarra this very afternoon. But I'll be even with my gentleman yet! – for it's all done to thwart me – it's all done to thwart me – "
The factor's small clear eyes sparkled with malice; but he had perforce to cease speaking, for at this moment Barbara came into the room. When she had gone again, he resumed:
"I will just tell ye how I came to get on his track," Mr. Purdie said, with something of a triumphant air. "And first of all ye must understand, Miss Stanley, I take some little credit to myself for having routed out the illicit stills in this country-side; ay, I'm thinking they're pretty well cleared out now; indeed I'll undertake to say there's not a hidden worm-tub or a mash tun within twenty miles around. There was some trouble; oh, yes; for they're cunning creatures; and they stand by one another in lying and concealment; but I managed to get some information for the Preventive Staff all the same – from time to time, that was – and then I had a good knowledge o' the place – ye see, Miss Stanley, I was factor at Lochgarra before your uncle gave me back my post again; and so, with keeping the gaugers busy, we got at one after another of the black bothies, as they call them, until I doubt whether there's a bothan dubh between here and Strathcarron. Yes, I may admit I take some credit for that. I've heard folk maintain that speerits are a necessary of life in a bad climate like this; but what I say is, let people pay their rent before comforting themselves wi' drams. My business is with the rent. I'm not a doctor. Temperance, ay, and even total abstinence, is a fine thing for everybody."
"Won't you help yourself, Mr. Purdie?" said Kate Glendinning, with grave eyes, and she pushed the sherry decanter towards him. Mr. Purdie filled his glass – for the fifth time – and drained it off. Then he proceeded.
"However, this is my story. One day I had finished wi' my business here, and had set out to ride over to Ledmore, when the toothache came into my head just terrible, and I was like to be driven mad. I was passing Cruagan at the time – where ye spoke to James Macdonald, Miss Stanley – indeed, it was at James's house I stopped, and tied up the beast, and went in to see if I could get a drop of whiskey to put in the side of my cheek, for the pain was just fearful. Well, there was nobody in but James's old mother – an old, old woman – she could hardly move away from the fire – and says I, 'For God's sake, woman, give me some whiskey to drive away this pain.' Of course she declared and better declared there was none in the house; but at last, seeing I was near out o' my senses, she hobbled away and brought me – what do ye think? – a glass of brandy – and fine brandy, too. 'Hallo!' says I to the old cailleach, when the brandy had burned in my mouth for a while, and the pain was not so bad, 'where did ye get this fine stuff?' Would ye believe it, she declared and better declared that she found it! 'Find it, woman! Where did ye find it?' But no; that was all; she had found it. And then I began to think. Where was an old woman like that to get brandy? So says I all of a sudden, 'This is smuggled stuff. Ye need not deny it; and unless ye tell me instantly where ye got it, and how ye got it, the Supervisor will be here to-morrow morning, and in twenty-four hours ye'll be in Dingwall Jail! – '"
"Mr. Purdie," said Käthchen, interrupting – and with rather a cold manner – "was that your return for the old woman's kindness to you in your trouble?"
But he did not heed the taunt. He was exulting in his having trapped his enemy.
"She was frightened out of her wits, the wretched old creature. 'Donuil Og,' she says – Young Donald – it was from young Ross that she had got it. And now the case was clear enough! I had been suspecting something of the kind. And here was a fine come-down for the Rosses of Heimra; – the Rosses of Heimra, that in former days made such a flourish at the English court – dancing at Almacks, and skelping about wi' the Prince Regent; and now the last of the family come down to selling smuggled brandy to old women and a parcel of crofters and cottars! A fine way of earning a living! But it's all he's fit for – an idle ne'er-do-weel, that never did a turn of work in his life beyond poaching and thieving and stirring up ill-will behind one's back. But I'll be even with my gentleman! I'll have the Supervisor of Excise on to him; his fine little trips to the Channel Islands – I suppose it's the Channel Islands, where you get brandy for next to nothing – we'll soon put a stop to them; and when he finds himself before the Sheriff at Dingwall, he'll be singing another tune!"
A tap at the door – then Barbara entered; and the factor looked up quickly and suspiciously. But if the tall Highland lass had been listening her face said nothing.
"And the young man you speak of," Mary asked, "does he live all by himself – out on that island?"
"It's fit that he should live by himself," said Mr. Purdie, with his