France, of which I knew very little, and further of his visit as now
proposed.
"All we forfeited folk hang a little together," he explained, "and
besides I know the gentleman: and though his
descent is not the thing,
and indeed he has no true right to use the name of Stewart, he was very
much admired in the day of Drummossie. He did there like a soldier; if
some that need not be named had done as well, the upshot need not have
been so
melancholy to remember. There were two that did their best
that day, and it makes a bond between the pair of us," says he.
I could
scarcerefrain from shooting out my tongue at him, and could
almost have wished that Alan had been there to have inquired a little
further into that mention of his birth. Though, they tell me, the same
was indeed not
wholly regular.
Meanwhile, I had opened Miss Grant's, and could not
withhold an
exclamation.
"Catriona," I cried, forgetting, the first time since her father was
arrived, to address her by a handle, "I am come into my kingdom fairly,
I am the laird of Shaws indeed - my uncle is dead at last."
She clapped her hands together leaping from her seat. The next moment
it must have come over both of us at once what little cause of joy was
left to either, and we stood opposite, staring on each other sadly.
But James showed himself a ready
hypocrite. "My daughter," says he,
"is this how my cousin
learned you to
behave? Mr. David has lost a new
friend, and we should first condole with him on his bereavement."
"Troth, sir," said I, turning to him in a kind of anger, "I can make no
such great faces. His death is as
blithe news as ever I got."
"It's a good soldier's philosophy," says James. "'Tis the way of
flesh, we must all go, all go. And if the gentleman was so far from
your favour, why, very well! But we may at least
congratulate you on
your
accession to your
estates."
"Nor can I say that either," I replied, with the same heat. "It is a
good
estate; what matters that to a lone man that has enough already?
I had a good
revenue before in my frugality; and but for the man's
death - which gratifies me, shame to me that must
confess it! - I see
not how anyone is to be bettered by this change."
"Come, come," said he, "you are more
affected than you let on, or you
would never make yourself out so
lonely. Here are three letters; that
means three that wish you well; and I could name two more, here in this
very
chamber. I have known you not so very long, but Catriona, when we
are alone, is never done with the singing of your praises."
She looked up at him, a little wild at that; and he slid off at once
into another matter, the
extent of my
estate, which (during the most of
the dinner time) he continued to dwell upon with interest. But it was
to no purpose he dissembled; he had touched the matter with too gross a
hand: and I knew what to expect. Dinner was
scarce ate when he
plainly discovered his designs. He reminded Catriona of an
errand, and
bid her attend to it. "I do not see you should be one beyond the
hour," he added, "and friend David will be good enough to bear me
company till you return." She made haste to obey him without words. I
do not know if she understood, I believe not; but I was completely
satisfied, and sat strengthening my mind for what should follow.
The door had
scarce closed behind her
departure, when the man leaned
back in his chair and addressed me with a good affectation of easiness.
Only the one thing betrayed him, and that was his face; which suddenly
shone all over with fine points of sweat.
"I am rather glad to have a word alone with you," says he, "because in
our first
interview there were some expressions you misapprehended and
I have long meant to set you right upon. My daughter stands beyond
doubt. So do you, and I would make that good with my sword against all
gainsayers. But, my dear David, this world is a censorious place - as
who should know it better than myself, who have lived ever since the
days of my late
departed father, God sain him! in a perfect spate of
calumnies? We have to face to that; you and me have to consider of
that; we have to consider of that." And he wagged his head like a
minister in a pulpit.
"To what effect, Mr. Drummond?" said I. "I would be obliged to you if
you would approach your point."
"Ay, ay," said he, laughing, "like your
character, indeed! and what I
most admire in it. But the point, my
worthy fellow, is sometimes in a
kittle bit." He filled a glass of wine. "Though between you and me,
that are such fast friends, it need not
bother us long. The point, I
need
scarcely tell you, is my daughter. And the first thing is that I
have no thought in my mind of blaming you. In the unfortunate
circumstances, what could you do else? 'Deed, and I cannot tell."
"I thank you for that," said I, pretty close upon my guard.
"I have besides
studied your
character," he went on; "your talents are
fair; you seem to have a
moderate competence, which does no harm; and
one thing with another, I am very happy to have to announce to you that
I have
decided on the latter of the two ways open."
"I am afraid I am dull," said I. "What ways are these?"
He bent his brows upon me formidably and uncrossed his legs. "Why,
sir," says he, "I think I need
scarce describe them to a gentleman of
your condition; either that I should cut your
throat or that you should
marry my daughter."
"You are pleased to be quite plain at last," said I.
"And I believe I have been plain from the beginning!" cries he
robustiously. "I am a careful parent, Mr. Balfour; but I thank God, a
patient and deleeborate man. There is many a father, sir, that would
have hirsled you at once either to the altar or the field. My
esteemfor your
character - "
"Mr. Drummond," I interrupted, "if you have any
esteem for me at all, I
will beg of you to
moderate your voice. It is quite
needless to rowt
at a gentleman in the same
chamber with yourself and lending you his
best attention."
"Why, very true," says he, with an immediate change. "And you must
excuse the agitations of a parent."
"I understand you then," I continued - "for I will take no note of your
other
alternative, which perhaps it was a pity you let fall - I
understand you rather to offer me
encouragement in case I should desire
to apply for your daughter's hand?"
"It is not possible to express my meaning better," said he, "and I see
we shall do well together."
"That remains to be yet seen," said I. "But so much I need make no
secret of, that I bear the lady you refer to the most tender affection,
and I could not fancy, even in a dream, a better fortune than to get
her."
"I was sure of it, I felt certain of you, David," he cried, and reached
out his hand to me.
I put it by. "You go too fast, Mr. Drummond," said I. "There are
conditions to be made; and there is a difficulty in the path, which I
see not entirely how we shall come over. I have told you that, upon my
side, there is no
objection to the marriage, but I have good reason to
believe there will be much on the young lady's."
"This is all beside the mark," says he. "I will engage for her
acceptance."
"I think you forget, Mr. Drummond," said I, "that, even in
dealing with
myself, you have been betrayed into two-three unpalatable expressions.
I will have none such employed to the young lady. I am here to speak
and think for the two of us; and I give you to understand that I would
no more let a wife be forced upon myself, than what I would let a
husband be forced on the young lady."
He sat and glowered at me like one in doubt and a good deal of temper.
"So that is to be the way of it," I concluded. "I will marry Miss
Drummond, and that
blithely, if she is entirely
willing. But if there
be the least un
willingness, as I have reason to fear - marry her will I
never."
"Well well," said he, "this is a small affair. As soon as she returns
I will sound her a bit, and hope to
reassure you - "
But I cut in again. "Not a finger of you, Mr. Drummond, or I cry off,
and you can seek a husband to your daughter somewhere else," said I.
"It is I that am to be the only
dealer and the only judge. I shall
satisfy myself exactly; and none else shall anyways
meddle - you the
least of all."
"Upon my word, sir!" he exclaimed, "and who are you to be the judge?"
"The
bridegroom, I believe," said I.
"This is to quibble," he cried. "You turn your back upon the fact.
The girl, my daughter, has no choice left to exercise. Her
characteris gone."
"And I ask your pardon," said I, "but while this matter lies between
her and you and me, that is not so."
"What
security have I!" he cried. "Am I to let my daughter's
reputation depend upon a chance?"
"You should have thought of all this long ago," said I, "before you
were so misguided as to lose her; and not afterwards when it is quite
too late. I refuse to regard myself as any way accountable for your
neglect, and I will be browbeat by no man living. My mind is quite
made up, and come what may, I will not depart from it a hair's breadth.
You and me are to sit here in company till her return: upon which,
without either word or look from you, she and I are to go forth again
to hold our talk. If she can satisfy me that she is
willing to this
step, I will then make it; and if she cannot, I will not."
He leaped out of his chair like a man stung. "I can spy your
manoeuvre," he cried; "you would work upon her to refuse!"
"Maybe ay, and maybe no," said I. "That is the way it is to be,
whatever."
"And if I refuse?" cries he.
"Then, Mr. Drummond, it will have to come to the
throat-cutting," said
I.
What with the size of the man, his great length of arm in which he came
near rivalling his father, and his reputed skill at weapons, I did not
use this word without trepidation, to say nothing at all of the
circumstance that he was Catriona's father. But I might have spared
myself alarms. From the poorness of my
lodging - he does not seem to
have remarked his daughter's dresses, which were indeed all
equally new
to him - and from the fact that I had shown myself
averse to lend, he
had embraced a strong idea of my
poverty. The sudden news of my
estateconvinced him of his error, and he had made but the one bound of it on
this fresh
venture, to which he was now so
wedded, that I believe he
would have suffered anything rather than fall to the
alternative of
fighting.
A little while longer he continued to
dispute with me, until I hit upon
a word that silenced him.
"If I find you so
averse to let me see the lady by herself," said I, "I
must suppose you have very good grounds to think me in the right about
her un
willingness."
He gabbled some kind of an excuse.
"But all this is very exhausting to both of our tempers," I added, "and
I think we would do better to
preserve a
judicious silence."
The which we did until the girl returned, and I must suppose would have
cut a very
ridiculous figure had there been any there to view us.
CHAPTER XXVIII - IN WHICH I AM LEFT ALONE
I OPENED the door to Catriona and stopped her on the threshold.
"Your father wishes us to take our walk," said I.
She looked to James More, who nodded, and at that, like a trained
soldier, she turned to go with me.
We took one of our old ways, where we had gone often together, and been
more happy than I can tell of in the past. I came a half a step
behind, so that I could watch her
unobserved. The knocking of her
little shoes upon the way sounded
extraordinary pretty and sad; and I
thought it a strange moment that I should be so near both ends of it at
once, and walk in the midst between two destinies, and could not tell
whether I was
hearing these steps for the last time, or whether the
sound of them was to go in and out with me till death should part us.
She avoided even to look at me, only walked before her, like one who
had a guess of what was coming. I saw I must speak soon before my
courage was run out, but where to begin I knew not. In this painful
situation, when the girl was as good as forced into my arms and had
already
besought my
forbearance, any
excess of
pressure must have
seemed indecent; yet to avoid it
wholly would have a very cold-like
appearance. Between these extremes I stood
helpless, and could have
bit my fingers; so that, when at last I managed to speak at all, it may