Chapter XV: A Dangerous Adventure

"What is the matter with you?" said the Whaup to Coquette. "For a few minutes you are alive, and in the world; and the next minute you are staring over there at the sea, as if you could look through the Arran hills, and find something miles and miles away on the other side.".

Coquette started, and recalled herself; but there was no tinge of embarrassment on the pale, clear, foreign face. She said--

"I was thinking whether your papa would let us go with Lady Drum."

"Then he has not promised to go?" said the Whaup sharply.

The dark eyes of Coquette began to look afraid.

"It is a strange thing," said the Whaup, "that women will not tell you all the truth at once. They must keep back things, and make mysteries, and try to deceive you. Why didn't you say to me--'There is a talk of our going a trip in Earlshope's yacht. Will you come, if we are allowed to go?'--instead of hinting that you were all fixed on going, and I might as well join you? Well, there, I am not going to say another word. You can't help it. You are only a woman."

"And you are only a boy," she said, looking up to the tall, handsome lad beside her,--"very kind, and very generous, and very stupid."

"I am older than you, at least," said the Whaup, who did not like being called a boy. "And, if it was any use, I'd give you the advice to drop these little tricks, and be honest."

"If my honesty were equal to your rudeness, I should please you," said Coquette, with a smile. She was disinclined just then to take umbrage.

"It will be a bold thing for my father to go away anywhere in the company of Lord Earlshope," observed the Whaup. "It will be only his regard for your health that will force him."

"Why?" said Coquette, with a touch of asperity.

"Well, you know the reputation he has in the parish," remarked the Whaup, coolly. "Perhaps everybody is wrong; but, at all events, Earlshope gives them every reason to think ill of him. He never comes to church; he walks about on Sundays with his dogs; or else he reads novels, and smokes cigars. If I go with you, it is not to be friends with him; it is to protect you. Do you know, either he is mad or one of these novels has turned his head; for he has got a place built at the end of the grounds like a wizard's cave, with trickling water running over a lot of rocks; and he sits there at night to read, and in the rocks he has blue lights, that make the place look as if it was haunted."

"That is stuff and humbug," said Coquette.

"What did you say?"

"I do mean it is nonsense, if that is better. It is an old woman's story of the village--it is a fable--it is foolish."

"Very well, very well," said the Whaup. "But if you have the courage to slip out of the house to-night when it is dark, and run all the way there, I will take you in by an opening that I know, and show you the place."

"Suppose he were there?" said Coquette.

"No fear. The nights are getting too cold. Will you go?"

"Perhaps," said Coquette.

By this time they had arrived at the spot of the moor where the Whaup had discovered the bees' nest. He pointed out to his companion a small hole in a piece of mossy ground which was not covered by the heather; and as she looked at it, a large humble-bee came crawling out, paused for a second, and then flew away with a low buzzing noise into the distance. The Whaup threw off his jacket, and took his spade in hand.

"Here," said he to Coquette, "protect yourself with this branch. Knock them down when they come near you."

"Why?" she said. "They will not harm me--I am not harming them."

"That may be the case wi' bees in France," observed the Whaup, disdainfully, "where they've got fine manners; but ye'll find Scotch bees are different."

So he ordered one of the boys to stand by Coquette and beat down any bees that might come her way; threatening him with pains and penalties dire if one should touch her. Then he struck the spade into the ground near the entrance to the nest, and raised a large "divot." The channel to the subterranean caves was now laid bare; and one or two bees that had been coming up were seen extricating themselves from the loose earth. These Dougal straightway laid hold of, by means of his handkerchief, and popped them into a large paper bag which he held.

"What for you put them in a bag?" said Coquette; at which all the boys burst out laughing. But they did not tell her the secret.

The excitement of this work of destruction now began. Out came the bees in dozens, buzzing up from the ruddy earth only to be struck down by great branches of alder borne by the boys; while the intrepid Dougal, with his face and hands quite unguarded, stood over the hole, and picked up whichever of them looked only stunned. It was a dangerous occupation; for those inside the bag which had partially recovered began to hum their discontent, and tried to escape by the small opening which admitted their companions in misfortune. Sometimes, indeed, the other boys assisted, although they had sufficient occupation for themselves in beating back the winged host that flew round and round their ears.

Suddenly Wattie uttered a loud shriek, and set off running as hard as he could. His companions perceived to their dismay that about twenty or thirty bees had clustered round his head, and were now following him, and hovering over him as he ran.

"He's got the queen bee on his bonnet," said the Whaup. "Throw down your bonnet--ye idiot!--throw down your bonnet!"

Wattie was still within hearing, and had sufficient nerve left him to do as he was bid. He snatched at his cap, pitched it on the heather, and again made off; but it was soon apparent that he was out of danger. The bees had lit upon the cap; and from a safe distance he stood and regarded it with rather a rueful countenance.

The issue of bees had ceased. The boys laid down their branches, and began to dig out with their fingers, from among the red and sandy earth, the small brown combs of honey, which were speedily transferred, sand and all, to their mouth. The Whaup, of course, would not condescend to such vulgar and childish practices; but he produced a pen-knife, and extracted some honey from one of the combs, which Coquette was pleased to taste.

"What for you have bees in the bag?" said Coquette, as they prepared to go home--a simultaneous charge of branches having cleared Wattie's cap.

"I told you," said the Whaup, "there was a deed of vengeance to be done. In the stable there is a bag of corn, which Andrew opens twice a day to get some for the pony. We are going to put the bees in the bag--I suppose there's near a hundred of them. When Andrew plunges his hand into the bag----"

"O you wicked boy!" cried Coquette.

"You are the cause of it," said the Whaup.

"I?"

"I heard him calling ye all sorts o' names out of the Bible--Satan quoting Scripture, you see--and I have warned him before; and now he'll get it."

"The bees, they will kill him," said Coquette.

"So much the better," retorted the Whaup; "he is a nuisance."

"But what is that on your hand--that is a sting, is it not?" she said, looking at a considerable swelling, which was visible on the Whaup's forefinger.

"Oh, one sting is nothing," he said, carelessly, "unless it's a wasp or a hornet. Did you ever burn out a nest of hornets? If you haven't, don't try."

"No," said Coquette, simply, "I'm not such a gowk."

"Well, that is pretty English!" observed the Whaup, with a stare.

"Isn't it right? I did hear you say it yesterday," remarked Coquette, without any notion that she was turning the tables on her critic.

So they drew near home again; and the Whaup fancied a shade came over his companion's face as they approached the Manse. Perhaps it was the dull, grey day, which made the old-fashioned little place look dull and solitary--that made the moor look unusually bleak, and the long stretch of country sombre and sad.

"I hope you are not tired," said the Whaup.

"Tired? No," she said, with a certain languor. "Do you think your papa will take us away from here for a little while?"

"How you harp on that yacht!" rejoined the Whaup, good-naturedly. "I must go and persuade my father on your behalf, I think."

"Will you do that?" she said, with eagerness.

"Yes," he said, "and just now. Isn't he there in the garden? I hear him talking. Oh, it is the Schoolmaster, who is delivering a lecture. Now, I will wager he is talking about you."

"About me?"

"Yes; don't you know you are a dangerous character to the whole village?"

"I should like to know what he says about me," said Coquette, proudly, advancing towards the wall which surrounded the garden.

"But not that way," said the Whaup, taking her hand and leading her off. "If you wish to know, you mustn't hide and listen--although I suppose that is a woman's way. You go into the Manse--I will go into the garden and bring you word what the new ground of complaint is."

Leaving Coquette, therefore, the Whaup went round the house, and boldly walked up to the place where Mr. Gillespie and the Minister stood together.

"It is Earlshope who is catching it this time," said the Whaup to himself, overhearing the name.

His father looked with some surprise on the approach of his eldest son--who had rather a pugnacious look on his face, by the way; but the Schoolmaster was too intent upon his choice phrases to heed.

"... than which, sir, nothing could be more deplorable, or mortifying, as I may say," observed Mr. Gillespie. "But I would give every man the due of his actions; for, although works are not in themselves saving, they may be a sign--or, as some would term it, a symptom--of the presence o' grace, even among the Gentiles who know not the law, yet do the things that are written or inscribed in the law."

"Yes, yes, Mr. Gillespie!" said the Minister, with an impatient twitch at his bunch of seals: "but ye said ye had come to tell me----"

"Yes, sir, to inform ye of a circumstance which deserves, or is entitled to, some remark. I have been made the means--or, I may say, the humble instrument--of conveying to the people of this parish no less a sum than one hundred pounds sterling, to be expended, sir, as those who have authority among us may direct, for the good--or benefit--of such as are--such as are--such as are, in fact, here. Ware it--or as I ought to say--expend it as we best may on the educational or worldly wants of the parish, it is all the same; and while I would observe, sir, that the money cannot heighten in value the services which you give--or rather render to this parish--it being your duty, as I may express it, to expound the prophecies and dig up spiritual gold and silver for them that are of Zion, I would take your advice wi' all humility as to how this sum is to be granted to, or bestowed upon, the parish."

Mr. Gillespie paused, with the air of a man who had been up to the occasion. He raised his large spectacles towards the Minister's face, and proudly awaited the reply.

"Where got ye this money?" said the Minister.

"Sir, from Lord Earlshope--some three days ago, with a letter dated from some place in the north, in which his lordship was pleased to say that it was but a whim of his. A noble and a praiseworthy whim, said I to Mrs. Gillespie, on receiving the money, for his lordship, according to general report, or, as I might say, rumour, is a poor man for one in his station; and as I would argue from facts, Mr. Cassilis, rather than from idle hearsay, I am bold to observe that there are in this very parish those who would look black at his Lordship, and yet no bestow a bawbee on the relief o' the poor. I wouldna, sir, cast--or, in other words, fling--the first stone; and if some would do as they see Lord Earlshope do, I am thinking, sir, they would not--they would not do--as--as, in fact, they do do."

Feeling that his eloquence was beginning to halt, the Schoolmaster pulled out the identical letter and cheque which had effected so extraordinary a change in his sentiments towards the owner of Earlshope. These he handed to Mr. Cassilis, who took them and scanned them with equal surprise and pleasure. The Minister even hinted that since his lordship was so well-disposed to the parish, and apparently inclined to make up for past forgetfulness, it would be unbecoming of the parish not to meet his advances in a similar friendly spirit.

"Precisely and exactly as I observed to Mrs. Gillespie this morning, sir, not ten minutes--nay, when I recollect, not above five minutes--indeed, I am sure three minutes could not have elapsed--after the reading of the letter, or communication I might call it, seeing what it holds. And Mrs. Gillespie, sir, made an observation couched in homely phrase--yet pertaining, or, as I might say, bearing upon this point. She remarked that the test of a man's fair words was when he put his hand in his pocket."

"It is sometimes so," said the Minister; adding, with a sly glance at the Schoolmaster, "perhaps, after all, Mr. Gillespie, when my parishioners hear of Lord Earlshope's generosity, they will not wonder at my receiving him at the Manse, nor yet will they object to his speaking to my niece."

The Schoolmaster looked rather uncomfortable; and the Whaup, behind his back, performed some derisive and delighted antics of a vulgar nature.

"I maun e'en take a man as I find him, Mr. Cassilis," said the Schoolmaster, forgetting his English in the warmth of his self-defence. "If he alters for the better, what for should I stick to my old opinion, like a flee to the wa'?"

"Certainly, certainly," said the Minister; "but sometimes it is our judgment that is mistaken in the first case, and it behoves us to be cautious and charitable."

"No man ever accused me o' being without charity, in moderation--in moderation," said the Schoolmaster, with his spectacles glaring fiercely. "But I am no for that charity that lets ye be led by the nose. I have my own opeenions--charity is a good thing--a very good thing--but it needna make a fool o' ye, and make people believe that ye are as blind as Eli. No, sir, wi' due deference to you, I still consider Lord Earlshope to be----"

In his excitement the Schoolmaster had unconsciously unfolded the cheque he held in his hands; and he now suddenly found himself looking at it. He did not finish the sentence. He waved his hand, as though to say--"These are bygones; I was right, but it is no matter; and Lord Earlshope has mended."

"And what do ye propose to do with the money?--not that there will be any difficulty in finding suitable directions," said the Minister.

"That," replied the Schoolmaster, with grave importance, "is a matter for serious--and, I may add, patient--consideration, in which, sir, I would earnestly desire your assistance and advice. In the meantime, it is but fitting (such is my humble opeenion) that acknowledgment of his lordship's bounty should be made--and that not in a formal manner, but in a friendly--a conciliatory manner, as I may say, in which I will show his lordship that we of this parish recognise, appreciate, and commend these approaches--or overtures they might, I think, be properly called, on his part; and who knows, sir, but that encouragement of this kind might have the effect of stimulating or exciting his lordship to renew--I may say, in short, to repeat--these attentions of a generous nature----"

Mr. Gillespie stopped here, not sure whether he had got to the end of his sentence or not. He then continued--

"I hope, sir, in your capacity of private friend of the young nobleman, and as public and spiritual overseer of this parish, you will convey to him our sense of what he has done; and if you could bring him and the parish closer together----"

"At this present moment, on the contrary," said the Minister, with a hesitating smile, "Lord Earlshope proposes to carry me away from the parish. I have received an invite, with some members of my household, to go on a small voyage in his lordship's yacht, Lady Drum being the instigator of the project, as I believe."

The spectacles of the Schoolmaster seemed to wax bigger.

"How do you think the parish would receive the proposal?" asked the Minister, rather timidly.

"I will make it my business to ascertain," replied the Schoolmaster, with an air of authority. "Nay, further, Mr. Cassilis, I will even go the length of advising your parishioners to acquiesce. Why, sir, it is their duty. Lord Earlshope, Mr. Cassilis, is a man to be encouraged--he must be encouraged."

This was all that was wanted to confirm the Minister's decision. He had for some time back seen fit to abandon the suspicions that had been suggested by his meeting Lord Earlshope and Coquette on the moor; and the only question now was whether Coquette's health would be greatly benefited by his accepting the invitation.

The Whaup made off at this moment, and went to Coquette.

"You owe Gillespie a good turn for once," said he to her. "The old fool has persuaded my father to go."