Subscribe for ad free access & additional features for teachers. Authors: 267, Books: 3,607, Poems & Short Stories: 4,435, Forum Members: 71,154, Forum Posts: 1,238,602, Quizzes: 344

Chapter 8

THE ENEMY IN THE HOUSE.

It is a strange thing that I should be at a stick for a date - the
date, besides, of an incident that changed the very nature of my
life, and sent us all into foreign lands. But the truth is, I was
stricken out of all my habitudes, and find my journals very ill
redd-up, (7) the day not indicated sometimes for a week or two
together, and the whole fashion of the thing like that of a man
near desperate. It was late in March at least, or early in April,
1764. I had slept heavily, and wakened with a premonition of some
evil to befall. So strong was this upon my spirit that I hurried
downstairs in my shirt and breeches, and my hand (I remember) shook
upon the rail. It was a cold, sunny morning, with a thick white
frost; the blackbirds sang exceeding sweet and loud about the house
of Durrisdeer, and there was a noise of the sea in all the
chambers. As I came by the doors of the hall, another sound
arrested me - of voices talking. I drew nearer, and stood like a
man dreaming. Here was certainly a human voice, and that in my own
master's house, and yet I knew it not; certainly human speech, and
that in my native land; and yet, listen as I pleased, I could not
catch one syllable. An old tale started up in my mind of a fairy
wife (or perhaps only a wandering stranger), that came to the place
of my fathers some generations back, and stayed the matter of a
week, talking often in a tongue that signified nothing to the
hearers; and went again, as she had come, under cloud of night,
leaving not so much as a name behind her. A little fear I had, but
more curiosity; and I opened the hall-door, and entered.

The supper-things still lay upon the table; the shutters were still
closed, although day peeped in the divisions; and the great room
was lighted only with a single taper and some lurching
reverberation of the fire. Close in the chimney sat two men. The
one that was wrapped in a cloak and wore boots, I knew at once: it
was the bird of ill omen back again. Of the other, who was set
close to the red embers, and made up into a bundle like a mummy, I
could but see that he was an alien, of a darker hue than any man of
Europe, very frailly built, with a singular tall forehead, and a
secret eye. Several bundles and a small valise were on the floor;
and to judge by the smallness of this luggage, and by the condition
of the Master's boots, grossly patched by some unscrupulous country
cobbler, evil had not prospered.

He rose upon my entrance; our eyes crossed; and I know not why it
should have been, but my courage rose like a lark on a May morning.

"Ha!" said I, "is this you?" - and I was pleased with the unconcern
of my own voice.

"It is even myself, worthy Mackellar," says the Master.

"This time you have brought the black dog visibly upon your back,"
I continued.

"Referring to Secundra Dass?" asked the Master. "Let me present
you. He is a native gentleman of India."

"Hum!" said I. "I am no great lover either of you or your friends,
Mr. Bally. But I will let a little daylight in, and have a look at
you." And so saying, I undid the shutters of the eastern window.

By the light of the morning I could perceive the man was changed.
Later, when we were all together, I was more struck to see how
lightly time had dealt with him; but the first glance was
otherwise.

"You are getting an old man," said I.

A shade came upon his face. "If you could see yourself," said he,
"you would perhaps not dwell upon the topic."

"Hut!" I returned, "old age is nothing to me. I think I have been
always old; and I am now, I thank God, better known and more
respected. It is not every one that can say that, Mr. Bally! The
lines in your brow are calamities; your life begins to close in
upon you like a prison; death will soon be rapping at the door; and
I see not from what source you are to draw your consolations."

Here the Master addressed himself to Secundra Dass in Hindustanee,
from which I gathered (I freely confess, with a high degree of
pleasure) that my remarks annoyed him. All this while, you may be
sure, my mind had been busy upon other matters, even while I
rallied my enemy; and chiefly as to how I should communicate
secretly and quickly with my lord. To this, in the breathing-space
now given me, I turned all the forces of my mind; when, suddenly
shifting my eyes, I was aware of the man himself standing in the
doorway, and, to all appearance, quite composed. He had no sooner
met my looks than he stepped across the threshold. The Master
heard him coming, and advanced upon the other side; about four feet
apart, these brothers came to a full pause, and stood exchanging
steady looks, and then my lord smiled, bowed a little forward, and
turned briskly away.

"Mackellar," says he, "we must see to breakfast for these
travellers."

It was plain the Master was a trifle disconcerted; but he assumed
the more impudence of speech and manner. "I am as hungry as a
hawk," says he. "Let it be something good, Henry."

My lord turned to him with the same hard smile.

"Lord Durrisdeer," says he.

"Oh! never in the family," returned the Master.

"Every one in this house renders me my proper title," says my lord.
"If it please you to make an exception, I will leave you to
consider what appearance it will bear to strangers, and whether it
may not be translated as an effect of impotent jealousy."

I could have clapped my hands together with delight: the more so
as my lord left no time for any answer, but, bidding me with a sign
to follow him, went straight out of the hall.

"Come quick," says he; "we have to sweep vermin from the house."
And he sped through the passages, with so swift a step that I could
scarce keep up with him, straight to the door of John Paul, the
which he opened without summons and walked in. John was, to all
appearance, sound asleep, but my lord made no pretence of waking
him.

"John Paul," said he, speaking as quietly as ever I heard him, "you
served my father long, or I would pack you from the house like a
dog. If in half an hour's time I find you gone, you shall continue
to receive your wages in Edinburgh. If you linger here or in St.
Bride's - old man, old servant, and altogether - I shall find some
very astonishing way to make you smart for your disloyalty. Up and
begone. The door you let them in by will serve for your departure.
I do not choose my son shall see your face again."

"I am rejoiced to find you bear the thing so quietly," said I, when
we were forth again by ourselves.

"Quietly!" cries he, and put my hand suddenly against his heart,
which struck upon his bosom like a sledge.

At this revelation I was filled with wonder and fear. There was no
constitution could bear so violent a strain - his least of all,
that was unhinged already; and I decided in my mind that we must
bring this monstrous situation to an end.

"It would be well, I think, if I took word to my lady," said I.
Indeed, he should have gone himself, but I counted - not in vain -
on his indifference.

"Aye," says he, "do. I will hurry breakfast: we must all appear
at the table, even Alexander; it must appear we are untroubled."

I ran to my lady's room, and with no preparatory cruelty disclosed
my news.

"My mind was long ago made up," said she. "We must make our
packets secretly to-day, and leave secretly to-night. Thank
Heaven, we have another house! The first ship that sails shall
bear us to New York."

"And what of him?" I asked.

"We leave him Durrisdeer," she cried. "Let him work his pleasure
upon that."

"Not so, by your leave," said I. "There shall be a dog at his
heels that can hold fast. Bed he shall have, and board, and a
horse to ride upon, if he behave himself; but the keys - if you
think well of it, my lady - shall be left in the hands of one
Mackellar. There will be good care taken; trust him for that."

"Mr. Mackellar," she cried, "I thank you for that thought. All
shall be left in your hands. If we must go into a savage country,
I bequeath it to you to take our vengeance. Send Macconochie to
St. Bride's, to arrange privately for horses and to call the
lawyer. My lord must leave procuration."

At that moment my lord came to the door, and we opened our plan to
him.

"I will never hear of it," he cried; "he would think I feared him.
I will stay in my own house, please God, until I die. There lives
not the man can beard me out of it. Once and for all, here I am,
and here I stay in spite of all the devils in hell." I can give no
idea of the vehemency of his words and utterance; but we both stood
aghast, and I in particular, who had been a witness of his former
self-restraint.

My lady looked at me with an appeal that went to my heart and
recalled me to my wits. I made her a private sign to go, and when
my lord and I were alone, went up to him where he was racing to and
fro in one end of the room like a half-lunatic, and set my hand
firmly on his shoulder.

"My lord," says I, "I am going to be the plain-dealer once more; if
for the last time, so much the better, for I am grown weary of the
part."

"Nothing will change me," he answered. "God forbid I should refuse
to hear you; but nothing will change me." This he said firmly,
with no signal of the former violence, which already raised my
hopes.

"Very well," said I "I can afford to waste my breath." I pointed
to a chair, and he sat down and looked at me. "I can remember a
time when my lady very much neglected you," said I.

"I never spoke of it while it lasted," returned my lord, with a
high flush of colour; "and it is all changed now."'

"Do you know how much?" I said. "Do you know how much it is all
changed? The tables are turned, my lord! It is my lady that now
courts you for a word, a look - ay, and courts you in vain. Do you
know with whom she passes her days while you are out gallivanting
in the policies? My lord, she is glad to pass them with a certain
dry old grieve (8) of the name of Ephraim Mackellar; and I think
you may be able to remember what that means, for I am the more in a
mistake or you were once driven to the same company yourself."

"Mackellar!" cries my lord, getting to his feet. "O my God,
Mackellar!"

"It is neither the name of Mackellar nor the name of God that can
change the truth," said I; "and I am telling you the fact. Now for
you, that suffered so much, to deal out the same suffering to
another, is that the part of any Christian? But you are so
swallowed up in your new friend that the old are all forgotten.
They are all clean vanished from your memory. And yet they stood
by you at the darkest; my lady not the least. And does my lady
ever cross your mind? Does it ever cross your mind what she went
through that night? - or what manner of a wife she has been to you
thenceforward? - or in what kind of a position she finds herself
to-day? Never. It is your pride to stay and face him out, and she
must stay along with you. Oh! my lord's pride - that's the great
affair! And yet she is the woman, and you are a great hulking man!
She is the woman that you swore to protect; and, more betoken, the
own mother of that son of yours!"

"You are speaking very bitterly, Mackellar," said he; "but, the
Lord knows, I fear you are speaking very true. I have not proved
worthy of my happiness. Bring my lady back."

My lady was waiting near at hand to learn the issue. When I
brought her in, my lord took a hand of each of us, and laid them
both upon his bosom. "I have had two friends in my life," said he.
"All the comfort ever I had, it came from one or other. When you
two are in a mind, I think I would be an ungrateful dog - " He
shut his mouth very hard, and looked on us with swimming eyes. "Do
what ye like with me," says he, "only don't think - " He stopped
again. "Do what ye please with me: God knows I love and honour
you." And dropping our two hands, he turned his back and went and
gazed out of the window. But my lady ran after, calling his name,
and threw herself upon his neck in a passion of weeping.

I went out and shut the door behind me, and stood and thanked God
from the bottom of my heart.


At the breakfast board, according to my lord's design, we were all
met. The Master had by that time plucked off his patched boots and
made a toilet suitable to the hour; Secundra Dass was no longer
bundled up in wrappers, but wore a decent plain black suit, which
misbecame him strangely; and the pair were at the great window,
looking forth, when the family entered. They turned; and the black
man (as they had already named him in the house) bowed almost to
his knees, but the Master was for running forward like one of the
family. My lady stopped him, curtseying low from the far end of
the hall, and keeping her children at her back. My lord was a
little in front: so there were the three cousins of Durrisdeer
face to face. The hand of time was very legible on all; I seemed
to read in their changed faces a MEMENTO MORI; and what affected me
still more, it was the wicked man that bore his years the
handsomest. My lady was quite transfigured into the matron, a
becoming woman for the head of a great tableful of children and
dependents. My lord was grown slack in his limbs; he stooped; he
walked with a running motion, as though he had learned again from
Mr. Alexander; his face was drawn; it seemed a trifle longer than
of old; and it wore at times a smile very singularly mingled, and
which (in my eyes) appeared both bitter and pathetic. But the
Master still bore himself erect, although perhaps with effort; his
brow barred about the centre with imperious lines, his mouth set as
for command. He had all the gravity and something of the splendour
of Satan in the "Paradise Lost." I could not help but see the man
with admiration, and was only surprised that I saw him with so
little fear.

But indeed (as long as we were at the table) it seemed as if his
authority were quite vanished and his teeth all drawn. We had
known him a magician that controlled the elements; and here he was,
transformed into an ordinary gentleman, chatting like his
neighbours at the breakfast-board. For now the father was dead,
and my lord and lady reconciled, in what ear was he to pour his
calumnies? It came upon me in a kind of vision how hugely I had
overrated the man's subtlety. He had his malice still; he was
false as ever; and, the occasion being gone that made his strength,
he sat there impotent; he was still the viper, but now spent his
venom on a file. Two more thoughts occurred to me while yet we sat
at breakfast: the first, that he was abashed - I had almost said,
distressed - to find his wickedness quite unavailing; the second,
that perhaps my lord was in the right, and we did amiss to fly from
our dismasted enemy. But my poor man's leaping heart came in my
mind, and I remembered it was for his life we played the coward.

When the meal was over, the Master followed me to my room, and,
taking a chair (which I had never offered him), asked me what was
to be done with him.

"Why, Mr. Bally," said I, "the house will still be open to you for
a time."

"For a time?" says he. "I do not know if I quite take your
meaning."

"It is plain enough," said I. "We keep you for our reputation; as
soon as you shall have publicly disgraced yourself by some of your
misconduct, we shall pack you forth again."

"You are become an impudent rogue," said the Master, bending his
brows at me dangerously.

"I learned in a good school," I returned. "And you must have
perceived yourself that with my old lord's death your power is
quite departed. I do not fear you now, Mr. Bally; I think even -
God forgive me - that I take a certain pleasure in your company."

He broke out in a burst of laughter, which I clearly saw to be
assumed.

"I have come with empty pockets," says he, after a pause.

"I do not think there will be any money going," I replied. "I
would advise you not to build on that."

"I shall have something to say on the point," he returned.

"Indeed?" said I. "I have not a guess what it will be, then."

"Oh! you affect confidence," said the Master. "I have still one
strong position - that you people fear a scandal, and I enjoy it."

"Pardon me, Mr. Bally," says I. "We do not in the least fear a
scandal against you."

He laughed again. "You have been studying repartee," he said.
"But speech is very easy, and sometimes very deceptive. I warn you
fairly: you will find me vitriol in the house. You would do wiser
to pay money down and see my back." And with that he waved his
hand to me and left the room.

A little after, my lord came with the lawyer, Mr. Carlyle; a bottle
of old wine was brought, and we all had a glass before we fell to
business. The necessary deeds were then prepared and executed, and
the Scotch estates made over in trust to Mr. Carlyle and myself.

"There is one point, Mr. Carlyle," said my lord, when these affairs
had been adjusted, "on which I wish that you would do us justice.
This sudden departure coinciding with my brother's return will be
certainly commented on. I wish you would discourage any
conjunction of the two."

"I will make a point of it, my lord," said Mr. Carlyle. "The Mas-
Bally does not, then, accompany you?"

"It is a point I must approach," said my lord. "Mr. Bally remains
at Durrisdeer, under the care of Mr. Mackellar; and I do not mean
that he shall even know our destination."

"Common report, however - " began the lawyer.

"Ah! but, Mr. Carlyle, this is to be a secret quite among
ourselves," interrupted my lord. "None but you and Mackellar are
to be made acquainted with my movements."

"And Mr. Bally stays here? Quite so," said Mr. Carlyle. "The
powers you leave - " Then he broke off again. "Mr. Mackellar, we
have a rather heavy weight upon us."

"No doubt," said I.

"No doubt," said he. "Mr. Bally will have no voice?"

"He will have no voice," said my lord; "and, I hope, no influence.
Mr. Bally is not a good adviser."

"I see," said the lawyer. "By the way, has Mr. Bally means?"

"I understand him to have nothing," replied my lord. "I give him
table, fire, and candle in this house."

"And in the matter of an allowance? If I am to share the
responsibility, you will see how highly desirable it is that I
should understand your views," said the lawyer. "On the question
of an allowance?"

"There will be no allowance," said my lord. "I wish Mr. Bally to
live very private. We have not always been gratified with his
behaviour."

"And in the matter of money," I added, "he has shown himself an
infamous bad husband. Glance your eye upon that docket, Mr.
Carlyle, where I have brought together the different sums the man
has drawn from the estate in the last fifteen or twenty years. The
total is pretty."

Mr. Carlyle made the motion of whistling. "I had no guess of
this," said he. "Excuse me once more, my lord, if I appear to push
you; but it is really desirable I should penetrate your intentions.
Mr. Mackellar might die, when I should find myself alone upon this
trust. Would it not be rather your lordship's preference that Mr.
Bally should - ahem - should leave the country?"

My lord looked at Mr. Carlyle. "Why do you ask that?" said he.

"I gather, my lord, that Mr. Bally is not a comfort to his family,"
says the lawyer with a smile.

My lord's face became suddenly knotted. "I wish he was in hell!"
cried he, and filled himself a glass of wine, but with a hand so
tottering that he spilled the half into his bosom. This was the
second time that, in the midst of the most regular and wise
behaviour, his animosity had spirted out. It startled Mr. Carlyle,
who observed my lord thenceforth with covert curiosity; and to me
it restored the certainty that we were acting for the best in view
of my lord's health and reason.

Except for this explosion the interview was very successfully
conducted. No doubt Mr. Carlyle would talk, as lawyers do, little
by little. We could thus feel we had laid the foundations of a
better feeling in the country, and the man's own misconduct would
certainly complete what we had begun. Indeed, before his
departure, the lawyer showed us there had already gone abroad some
glimmerings of the truth.

"I should perhaps explain to you, my lord," said he, pausing, with
his hat in his hand, "that I have not been altogether surprised
with your lordship's dispositions in the case of Mr. Bally.
Something of this nature oozed out when he was last in Durrisdeer.
There was some talk of a woman at St. Bride's, to whom you had
behaved extremely handsome, and Mr. Bally with no small degree of
cruelty. There was the entail, again, which was much controverted.
In short, there was no want of talk, back and forward; and some of
our wise-acres took up a strong opinion. I remained in suspense,
as became one of my cloth; but Mr. Mackellar's docket here has
finally opened my eyes. I do not think, Mr. Mackellar, that you
and I will give him that much rope."


The rest of that important day passed prosperously through. It was
our policy to keep the enemy in view, and I took my turn to be his
watchman with the rest. I think his spirits rose as he perceived
us to be so attentive, and I know that mine insensibly declined.
What chiefly daunted me was the man's singular dexterity to worm
himself into our troubles. You may have felt (after a horse
accident) the hand of a bone-setter artfully divide and interrogate
the muscles, and settle strongly on the injured place? It was so
with the Master's tongue, that was so cunning to question; and his
eyes, that were so quick to observe. I seemed to have said
nothing, and yet to have let all out. Before I knew where I was
the man was condoling with me on my lord's neglect of my lady and
myself, and his hurtful indulgence to his son. On this last point
I perceived him (with panic fear) to return repeatedly. The boy
had displayed a certain shrinking from his uncle; it was strong in
my mind his father had been fool enough to indoctrinate the same,
which was no wise beginning: and when I looked upon the man before
me, still so handsome, so apt a speaker, with so great a variety of
fortunes to relate, I saw he was the very personage to captivate a
boyish fancy. John Paul had left only that morning; it was not to
be supposed he had been altogether dumb upon his favourite subject:
so that here would be Mr. Alexander in the part of Dido, with a
curiosity inflamed to hear; and there would be the Master, like a
diabolical AEneas, full of matter the most pleasing in the world to
any youthful ear, such as battles, sea-disasters, flights, the
forests of the West, and (since his later voyage) the ancient
cities of the Indies. How cunningly these baits might be employed,
and what an empire might be so founded, little by little, in the
mind of any boy, stood obviously clear to me. There was no
inhibition, so long as the man was in the house, that would be
strong enough to hold these two apart; for if it be hard to charm
serpents, it is no very difficult thing to cast a glamour on a
little chip of manhood not very long in breeches. I recalled an
ancient sailor-man who dwelt in a lone house beyond the Figgate
Whins (I believe, he called it after Portobello), and how the boys
would troop out of Leith on a Saturday, and sit and listen to his
swearing tales, as thick as crows about a carrion: a thing I often
remarked as I went by, a young student, on my own more meditative
holiday diversion. Many of these boys went, no doubt, in the face
of an express command; many feared and even hated the old brute of
whom they made their hero; and I have seen them flee from him when
he was tipsy, and stone him when he was drunk. And yet there they
came each Saturday! How much more easily would a boy like Mr.
Alexander fall under the influence of a high-looking, high-spoken
gentleman-adventurer, who should conceive the fancy to entrap him;
and, the influence gained, how easy to employ it for the child's
perversion!

I doubt if our enemy had named Mr. Alexander three times before I
perceived which way his mind was aiming - all this train of thought
and memory passed in one pulsation through my own - and you may say
I started back as though an open hole had gaped across a pathway.
Mr. Alexander: there was the weak point, there was the Eve in our
perishable paradise; and the serpent was already hissing on the
trail.

I promise you, I went the more heartily about the preparations; my
last scruple gone, the danger of delay written before me in huge
characters. From that moment forth I seem not to have sat down or
breathed. Now I would be at my post with the Master and his
Indian; now in the garret, buckling a valise; now sending forth
Macconochie by the side postern and the wood-path to bear it to the
trysting-place; and, again, snatching some words of counsel with my
lady. This was the VERSO of our life in Durrisdeer that day; but
on the RECTO all appeared quite settled, as of a family at home in
its paternal seat; and what perturbation may have been observable,
the Master would set down to the blow of his unlooked-for coming,
and the fear he was accustomed to inspire.

Supper went creditably off, cold salutations passed and the company
trooped to their respective chambers. I attended the Master to the
last. We had put him next door to his Indian, in the north wing;
because that was the most distant and could be severed from the
body of the house with doors. I saw he was a kind friend or a good
master (whichever it was) to his Secundra Dass - seeing to his
comfort; mending the fire with his own hand, for the Indian
complained of cold; inquiring as to the rice on which the stranger
made his diet; talking with him pleasantly in the Hindustanee,
while I stood by, my candle in my hand, and affected to be overcome
with slumber. At length the Master observed my signals of
distress. "I perceive," says he, "that you have all your ancient
habits: early to bed and early to rise. Yawn yourself away!"

Once in my own room, I made the customary motions of undressing, so
that I might time myself; and when the cycle was complete, set my
tinder-box ready, and blew out my taper. The matter of an hour
afterward I made a light again, put on my shoes of list that I had
worn by my lord's sick-bed, and set forth into the house to call
the voyagers. All were dressed and waiting - my lord, my lady,
Miss Katharine, Mr. Alexander, my lady's woman Christie; and I
observed the effect of secrecy even upon quite innocent persons,
that one after another showed in the chink of the door a face as
white as paper. We slipped out of the side postern into a night of
darkness, scarce broken by a star or two; so that at first we
groped and stumbled and fell among the bushes. A few hundred yards
up the wood-path Macconochie was waiting us with a great lantern;
so the rest of the way we went easy enough, but still in a kind of
guilty silence. A little beyond the abbey the path debauched on
the main road and some quarter of a mile farther, at the place
called Eagles, where the moors begin, we saw the lights of the two
carriages stand shining by the wayside. Scarce a word or two was
uttered at our parting, and these regarded business: a silent
grasping of hands, a turning of faces aside, and the thing was
over; the horses broke into a trot, the lamplight sped like Will-
o'-the-Wisp upon the broken moorland, it dipped beyond Stony Brae;
and there were Macconochie and I alone with our lantern on the
road. There was one thing more to wait for, and that was the
reappearance of the coach upon Cartmore. It seems they must have
pulled up upon the summit, looked back for a last time, and seen
our lantern not yet moved away from the place of separation. For a
lamp was taken from a carriage, and waved three times up and down
by way of a farewell. And then they were gone indeed, having
looked their last on the kind roof of Durrisdeer, their faces
toward a barbarous country. I never knew before, the greatness of
that vault of night in which we two poor serving-men - the one old,
and the one elderly - stood for the first time deserted; I had
never felt before my own dependency upon the countenance of others.
The sense of isolation burned in my bowels like a fire. It seemed
that we who remained at home were the true exiles, and that
Durrisdeer and Solwayside, and all that made my country native, its
air good to me, and its language welcome, had gone forth and was
far over the sea with my old masters.

The remainder of that night I paced to and fro on the smooth
highway, reflecting on the future and the past. My thoughts, which
at first dwelled tenderly on those who were just gone, took a more
manly temper as I considered what remained for me to do. Day came
upon the inland mountain-tops, and the fowls began to cry, and the
smoke of homesteads to arise in the brown bosom of the moors,
before I turned my face homeward, and went down the path to where
the roof of Durrisdeer shone in the morning by the sea.


At the customary hour I had the Master called, and awaited his
coming in the hall with a quiet mind. He looked about him at the
empty room and the three covers set.

"We are a small party," said he. "How comes?"

"This is the party to which we must grow accustomed," I replied.

He looked at me with a sudden sharpness. "What is all this?" said
he.

"You and I and your friend Mr. Dass are now all the company," I
replied. "My lord, my lady, and the children, are gone upon a
voyage."

"Upon my word!" said he. "Can this be possible? I have indeed
fluttered your Volscians in Corioli! But this is no reason why our
breakfast should go cold. Sit down, Mr. Mackellar, if you please"
- taking, as he spoke, the head of the table, which I had designed
to occupy myself - "and as we eat, you can give me the details of
this evasion."

I could see he was more affected than his language carried, and I
determined to equal him in coolness. "I was about to ask you to
take the head of the table," said I; "for though I am now thrust
into the position of your host, I could never forget that you were,
after all, a member of the family."

For a while he played the part of entertainer, giving directions to
Macconochie, who received them with an evil grace, and attending
specially upon Secundra. "And where has my good family withdrawn
to?" he asked carelessly.

"Ah! Mr. Bally, that is another point," said I. "I have no orders
to communicate their destination."

"To me," he corrected.

"To any one," said I.

"It is the less pointed," said the master; "C'EST DE BON TON: my
brother improves as he continues. And I, dear Mr. Mackellar?"

"You will have bed and board, Mr. Bally," said I. "I am permitted
to give you the run of the cellar, which is pretty reasonably
stocked. You have only to keep well with me, which is no very
difficult matter, and you shall want neither for wine nor a saddle-
horse."

He made an excuse to send Macconochie from the room.

"And for money?" he inquired. "Have I to keep well with my good
friend Mackellar for my pocket-money also? This is a pleasing
return to the principles of boyhood."

"There was no allowance made," said I; "but I will take it on
myself to see you are supplied in moderation."

"In moderation?" he repeated. "And you will take it on yourself?"
He drew himself up, and looked about the hall at the dark rows of
portraits. "In the name of my ancestors, I thank you," says he;
and then, with a return to irony, "But there must certainly be an
allowance for Secundra Dass?" he said. "It in not possible they
have omitted that?"

"I will make a note of it, and ask instructions when I write," said
I.

And he, with a sudden change of manner, and leaning forward with an
elbow on the table - "Do you think this entirely wise?"

"I execute my orders, Mr. Bally," said I.

"Profoundly modest," said the Master; "perhaps not equally
ingenuous. You told me yesterday my power was fallen with my
father's death. How comes it, then, that a peer of the realm flees
under cloud of night out of a house in which his fathers have stood
several sieges? that he conceals his address, which must be a
matter of concern to his Gracious Majesty and to the whole
republic? and that he should leave me in possession, and under the
paternal charge of his invaluable Mackellar? This smacks to me of
a very considerable and genuine apprehension."

I sought to interrupt him with some not very truthful denegation;
but he waved me down, and pursued his speech.

"I say, it smacks of it," he said; "but I will go beyond that, for
I think the apprehension grounded. I came to this house with some
reluctancy. In view of the manner of my last departure, nothing
but necessity could have induced me to return. Money, however, is
that which I must have. You will not give with a good grace; well,
I have the power to force it from you. Inside of a week, without
leaving Durrisdeer, I will find out where these fools are fled to.
I will follow; and when I have run my quarry down, I will drive a
wedge into that family that shall once more burst it into shivers.
I shall see then whether my Lord Durrisdeer" (said with
indescribable scorn and rage) "will choose to buy my absence; and
you will all see whether, by that time, I decide for profit or
revenge."

I was amazed to hear the man so open. The truth is, he was
consumed with anger at my lord's successful flight, felt himself to
figure as a dupe, and was in no humour to weigh language.

"Do you consider THIS entirely wise?" said I, copying his words.

"These twenty years I have lived by my poor wisdom," he answered
with a smile that seemed almost foolish in its vanity.

"And come out a beggar in the end," said I, "if beggar be a strong
enough word for it."

"I would have you to observe, Mr. Mackellar," cried he, with a
sudden imperious heat, in which I could not but admire him, "that I
am scrupulously civil: copy me in that, and we shall be the better
friends."

Throughout this dialogue I had been incommoded by the observation
of Secundra Dass. Not one of us, since the first word, had made a
feint of eating: our eyes were in each other's faces - you might
say, in each other's bosoms; and those of the Indian troubled me
with a certain changing brightness, as of comprehension. But I
brushed the fancy aside, telling myself once more he understood no
English; only, from the gravity of both voices, and the occasional
scorn and anger in the Master's, smelled out there was something of
import in the wind.


For the matter of three weeks we continued to live together in the
house of Durrisdeer: the beginning of that most singular chapter
of my life - what I must call my intimacy with the Master. At
first he was somewhat changeable in his behaviour: now civil, now
returning to his old manner of flouting me to my face; and in both
I met him half-way. Thanks be to Providence, I had now no measure
to keep with the man; and I was never afraid of black brows, only
of naked swords. So that I found a certain entertainment in these
bouts of incivility, and was not always ill-inspired in my
rejoinders. At last (it was at supper) I had a droll expression
that entirely vanquished him. He laughed again and again; and "Who
would have guessed," he cried, "that this old wife had any wit
under his petticoats?"

"It is no wit, Mr. Bally," said I: "a dry Scot's humour, and
something of the driest." And, indeed, I never had the least
pretension to be thought a wit.

From that hour he was never rude with me, but all passed between us
in a manner of pleasantry. One of our chief times of daffing (9)
was when he required a horse, another bottle, or some money. He
would approach me then after the manner of a schoolboy, and I would
carry it on by way of being his father: on both sides, with an
infinity of mirth. I could not but perceive that he thought more
of me, which tickled that poor part of mankind, the vanity. He
dropped, besides (I must suppose unconsciously), into a manner that
was not only familiar, but even friendly; and this, on the part of
one who had so long detested me, I found the more insidious. He
went little abroad; sometimes even refusing invitations. "No," he
would say, "what do I care for these thick-headed bonnet-lairds? I
will stay at home, Mackellar; and we shall share a bottle quietly,
and have one of our good talks." And, indeed, meal-time at
Durrisdeer must have been a delight to any one, by reason of the
brilliancy of the discourse. He would often express wonder at his
former indifference to my society. "But, you see," he would add,
"we were upon opposite sides. And so we are to-day; but let us
never speak of that. I would think much less of you if you were
not staunch to your employer." You are to consider he seemed to me
quite impotent for any evil; and how it is a most engaging form of
flattery when (after many years) tardy justice is done to a man's
character and parts. But I have no thought to excuse myself. I
was to blame; I let him cajole me, and, in short, I think the
watch-dog was going sound asleep, when he was suddenly aroused.

I should say the Indian was continually travelling to and fro in
the house. He never spoke, save in his own dialect and with the
Master; walked without sound; and was always turning up where you
would least expect him, fallen into a deep abstraction, from which
he would start (upon your coming) to mock you with one of his
grovelling obeisances. He seemed so quiet, so frail, and so
wrapped in his own fancies, that I came to pass him over without
much regard, or even to pity him for a harmless exile from his
country. And yet without doubt the creature was still
eavesdropping; and without doubt it was through his stealth and my
security that our secret reached the Master.

It was one very wild night, after supper, and when we had been
making more than usually merry, that the blow fell on me.

"This is all very fine," says the Master, "but we should do better
to be buckling our valise."

"Why so?" I cried. "Are you leaving?"

"We are all leaving to-morrow in the morning," said he. "For the
port of Glascow first, thence for the province of New York."

I suppose I must have groaned aloud.

"Yes," he continued, "I boasted; I said a week, and it has taken me
near twenty days. But never mind; I shall make it up; I will go
the faster."

"Have you the money for this voyage?" I asked.

"Dear and ingenuous personage, I have," said he. "Blame me, if you
choose, for my duplicity; but while I have been wringing shillings
from my daddy, I had a stock of my own put by against a rainy day.
You will pay for your own passage, if you choose to accompany us on
our flank march; I have enough for Secundra and myself, but not
more - enough to be dangerous, not enough to be generous. There
is, however, an outside seat upon the chaise which I will let you
have upon a moderate commutation; so that the whole menagerie can
go together - the house-dog, the monkey, and the tiger."

"I go with you," said I.

"I count upon it," said the Master. "You have seen me foiled; I
mean you shall see me victorious. To gain that I will risk wetting
you like a sop in this wild weather."

"And at least," I added, "you know very well you could not throw me
off."

"Not easily," said he. "You put your finger on the point with your
usual excellent good sense. I never fight with the inevitable."

"I suppose it is useless to appeal to you?" said I.

"Believe me, perfectly," said he.

"And yet, if you would give me time, I could write - " I began.

"And what would be my Lord Durrisdeer's answer?" asks he.

"Aye," said I, "that is the rub."

"And, at any rate, how much more expeditions that I should go
myself!" says he. "But all this is quite a waste of breath. At
seven to-morrow the chaise will be at the door. For I start from
the door, Mackellar; I do not skulk through woods and take my
chaise upon the wayside - shall we say, at Eagles?"

My mind was now thoroughly made up. "Can you spare me quarter of
an hour at St. Bride's?" said I. "I have a little necessary
business with Carlyle."

"An hour, if you prefer," said he. "I do not seek to deny that the
money for your seat is an object to me; and you could always get
the first to Glascow with saddle-horses."

"Well," said I, "I never thought to leave old Scotland."

"It will brisken you up," says he.

"This will be an ill journey for some one," I said. "I think, sir,
for you. Something speaks in my bosom; and so much it says plain -
that this is an ill-omened journey."

"If you take to prophecy," says he, "listen to that."

There came up a violent squall off the open Solway, and the rain
was dashed on the great windows.

"Do ye ken what that bodes, warlock?" said he, in a broad accent:
"that there'll be a man Mackellar unco' sick at sea."

When I got to my chamber, I sat there under a painful excitation,
hearkening to the turmoil of the gale, which struck full upon that
gable of the house. What with the pressure on my spirits, the
eldritch cries of the wind among the turret-tops, and the perpetual
trepidation of the masoned house, sleep fled my eyelids utterly. I
sat by my taper, looking on the black panes of the window, where
the storm appeared continually on the point of bursting in its
entrance; and upon that empty field I beheld a perspective of
consequences that made the hair to rise upon my scalp. The child
corrupted, the home broken up, my master dead or worse than dead,
my mistress plunged in desolation - all these I saw before me
painted brightly on the darkness; and the outcry of the wind
appeared to mock at my inaction.

Robert Louis Stevenson

Sorry, no summary available yet.