in which we appeared in our chosen roles.
Salemina was Lady Maisry--she whom all the lords of the north
countrie came wooing.
`But a' that they could say to her,
Her answer still was "Na."'
And again:-
`"O haud your tongues, young men," she said,
"And think nae mair on me!"'
Mr. Beresford was Lord Beichan, and I was Shusy Pye
`Lord Beichan was a Christian born,
And such
resolved to live and dee,
So he was ta'en by a
savage Moor,
Who treated him right cruellie.
The Moor he had an only daughter,
The damsel's name was Shusy Pye;
And ilka day as she took the air
Lord Beichan's prison she pass'd by.'
Elizabeth Ardmore was Leezie Lindsay, who kilted her coats o' green
satin to the knee and was aff to the Hielands so expeditiously when
her lover declared himself to be `Lord Ronald Macdonald, a chieftain
of high degree.'
Francesca was Mary Ambree.
`When captaines couragious, whom death cold not daunte,
Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt,
They mustred their souldiers by two and by three,
And the
foremost in battle was Mary Ambree.
When the brave sergeant-major was slaine in her sight
Who was her true lover, her joy and delight,
Because he was slaine most treacherouslie,
Then vow'd to
avenge him Mary Ambree.'
Brenda Macrae from Pettybaw House was Fairly Fair; Jamie, Sir
Patrick Spens; Ralph, King Alexander of Dunfermline; Mr. Anstruther,
Bonnie Glenlogie, `the flower o' them a';' Mr. Macdonald and Miss
Dalziel, Young Hynde Horn and the king's daughter Jean respectively.
`"Oh, it's Hynde Horn fair, and it's Hynde Horn free;
Oh, where were you born, and in what countrie?"
"In a far distant countrie I was born;
But of home and friends I am quite forlorn."
Oh, it's seven long years he served the king,
But wages from him he ne'er got a thing;
Oh, it's seven long years he served, I ween,
And all for love of the king's daughter Jean.'
It is not to be
supposed that all this went off without any of the
difficulties and heart-burnings that are
incident to things
dramatic. When Elizabeth Ardmore chose to be Leezie Lindsay, she
asked me to sing the
ballad behind the scenes. Mr. Beresford
naturally thought that Mr. Macdonald would take the opposite part in
the tableau,
inasmuch as the hero bears his name; but he positively
declined to play Lord Ronald Macdonald, and said it was altogether
too personal.
Mr. Anstruther was rather
disagreeable at the
beginning, and
upbraided Miss Dalziel for
offering to be the king's daughter Jean
to Mr. Macdonald's Hynde Horn, when she knew very well he wanted her
for Ladye Jeanie in Glenlogie. (She had
meantime confided to me
that nothing could induce her to appear in Glenlogie; it was far too
personal.)
Mr. Macdonald offended Francesca by sending her his cast-off gown
and begging her to be Sir Patrick Spens; and she was still more
gloomy (so I imagined) because he had not proffered his six feet of
manly beauty for the part of the captain in Mary Ambree, when the
only other person to take it was Jamie's tutor. He is an Oxford man
and a
delightful person, but very bow-legged; added to that, by the
time the rehearsals had ended she had been obliged to beg him to
love some one more
worthy than herself, and did not wish to appear
in the same tableau with him, feeling that it was much too personal.
When the eventful hour came,
yesterday, Willie and I were the only
actors really
willing to take lovers' parts, save Jamie and Ralph,
who were but too
anxious to play all the characters,
whatever their
age, sex, colour, or relations. But the guests knew nothing of
these
trivial disagreements, and at ten o'clock last night it would
have been difficult to match Rowardennan Castle for a scene of
beauty and revelry. Everything went
merrily till we came to Hynde
Horn, the concluding tableau, and the most
effective and elaborate
one on the programme. At the very last moment, when the opening
scene was nearly ready, Jean Dalziel fell down a secret
staircasethat led from the
tapestrychamber into Lady Ardmore's boudoir,
where the rest of us were dressing. It was a short
flight of steps,
but as she held a candle, and was carrying her
costume, she fell
awkwardly, spraining her wrist and ankle. Finding that she was not
maimed for life, Lady Ardmore turned with
comical and unsympathetic
haste to Francesca, so completely do
amateur theatricals dry the
milk of kindness in the human breast.
"Put on these clothes at once," she said imperiously, knowing
nothing of the volcanoes beneath the surface. "Hynde Horn is
already on the stage, and somebody must be Jean. Take care of Miss
Dalziel, girls, and ring for more maids. Helene, come and dress
Miss Monroe; put on her slippers while I lace her gown; run and
fetch more jewels,--more still,--she can carry off any number; not
any rouge, Helene--she has too much colour now; pull the frock more
off the shoulders--it's a pity to cover an inch of them; pile her
hair higher--here, take my diamond tiara, child; hurry, Helene,
fetch the silver cup and the cake--no, they are on the stage; take
her train, Helene. Miss Hamilton, run and open the doors ahead of
them, please. I won't go down for this tableau. I'll put Miss
Dalziel right, and then I'll slip into the drawing-room, to be ready
for the guests when they come in."
We
hurriedbreathlessly through an
interminableseries of rooms and
corridors. I gave the signal to Mr. Beresford, who was nervously
waiting for it in the wings, and the curtain went up on Hynde Horn
disguised as the auld
beggar man at the king's gate. Mr. Beresford
was
reading the
ballad, and we took up the tableaux at the point
where Hynde Horn has come from a far countrie to see why the
diamonds in the ring given him by his own true love have grown pale
and wan. He hears that the king's daughter Jean has been married to
a
knight these nine days past.
`But unto him a wife the bride winna be,
For love of Hynde Horn, far over the sea.'
He
therefore borrows the old
beggar's garments and hobbles to the
king's palace, where he petitions the
porter for a cup of wine and a
bit of cake to be handed him by the fair bride herself.
`"Good
porter, I pray, for Saints Peter and Paul,
And for sake of the Saviour who died for us all,
For one cup of wine and one bit of bread,
To an auld man with travel and
hunger bestead.
And ask the fair bride, for the sake of Hynde Horn,
To hand them to me so sadly forlorn."
Then the
porter for pity the message convey'd,
And told the fair bride all the
beggar man said.'
The curtain went up again. The
porter, moved to pity, has gone to
give the message to his lady. Hynde Horn is watching the
staircaseat the rear of the stage, his heart in his eyes. The tapestries
that hide it are drawn, and there stands the king's daughter, who
tripped down the stair--
`And in her fair hands did lovingly bear
A cup of red wine, and a farle of cake,
To give the old man for loved Hynde Horn's sake.'
The hero of the
ballad, who had not seen his true love for seven
long years, could not have been more amazed at the change in her
than was Ronald Macdonald at the sight of the flushed, excited,
almost tearful king's daughter on the
staircase, Lady Ardmore's
diamonds flashing from her
crimson satin gown, Lady Ardmore's rubies
glowing on her white arms and
throat; not Miss Dalziel, as had been
arranged, but Francesca,
rebellious,
reluctant, embarrassed, angrily
beautiful and
beautifully angry!
In the next scene Hynde Horn has drained the cup and dropped the
ring into it.
`"Oh, found you that ring by sea or on land,
Or got you that ring off a dead man's hand?"
"Oh, I found not that ring by sea or on land,
But I got that ring from a fair lady's hand.
As a
pledge of true love she gave it to me,
Full seven years ago as I sail'd o'er the sea;
But now that the diamonds are changed in their hue,
I know that my love has to me proved untrue."'
I never saw a prettier picture of sweet,
tremulous womanhood, a more
enchanting, breathing image of
fidelity, than Francesca looked as
Mr. Beresford read:-
`"Oh, I will cast off my gay
costly gown,
And follow thee on from town unto town;
And I will take the gold kaims from my hair,
And follow my true love for evermair."'
Whereupon Hynde Horn lets his
beggar weeds fall, and shines there
the
foremost and noblest of all the king's companie as he says:-
`"You need not cast off your gay
costly gown,
To follow me on from town unto town;
You need not take the gold kaims from your hair,
For Hynde Horn has gold enough and to spare."
Then the bridegrooms were changed, and the lady re-wed
To Hynde Horn thus come back, like one from the dead.'
There is no doubt that this tableau gained the success of the
evening, and the participants in it should have
modestly and
gratefully received the choruses of
congratulation that were ready
to be offered during the supper and dance that followed. Instead of
that, what happened? Francesca drove home with Miss Dalziel before
the quadrille d'honneur, and when Willie bade me good night at the
gate in the loaning, he said, "I shall not be early to-morrow, dear.
I am going to see Macdonald off."
"Off!" I exclaimed. "Where is he going?"
"Only to Edinburgh and London, to stay till the last of next week."
"But we may have left Pettybaw by that time."
"Of course; that is probably what he has in mind. But let me tell
you this, Penelope: Macdonald is fathoms deep in love with
Francesca, and if she trifles with him she shall know what I think
of her!"
"And let me tell you this, sir: Francesca is fathoms deep in love
with Ronald Macdonald, little as you
suspect it, and if he trifles
with her he shall know what I think of him!"
Chapter XXIV. Old songs and modern instances.
`He set her on a coal-black steed,
Himself lap on behind her,
An' he's awa' to the Hieland hills
Whare her frien's they canna find her.'
Rob Roy.
The occupants of Bide-a-Wee Cottage awoke in anything but a Jubilee
humour, next day. Willie had intended to come at nine, but of
course did not appear. Francesca took her breakfast in bed, and
came listlessly into the sitting-room at ten o'clock, looking like a
ghost. Jean's ankle was much better--the sprain proved to be not
even a strain--but her wrist was
painful. It was drizzling, too,
and we had promised Miss Ardmore and Miss Macrae to aid with the
last Jubilee
decorations, the
distribution of medals at the church,
and the children's games and tea on the links in the afternoon.
We have determined not to desert our
beloved Pettybaw for the
metropolis on this great day, but to
celebrate it with the dear fowk
o' Fife who had grown to be a part of our lives.
Bide-a-Wee Cottage does not occupy an
imposing position in the
landscape, and the choice of art fabrics at the Pettybaw draper's is
small, but the moment it should stop raining we were intending to
carry out a dazzling
scheme of
decoration that would
proclaim our
affectionate respect for the `little lady in black' on her Diamond
Jubilee. But would it stop raining?--that was the question. The