Chapter XVI: Sir Horace

I soon reached the large and handsome modern villa, which crowned the plateau, where the square tower of the Mac Innons had been, for seven hundred years, the landmark of the glens. The hour was eight; but the baronet and his friends were still at the dinner-table, and the brilliance of the wax-lights in the four tall windows of the magnificent dining-room, seemed to straggle with the bright flush of evening that reddened the sky above the darkening mountains of the west.

Through a spacious marble vestibule, adorned by gilded cornices, marble statues, and deer's horns, I was ushered by the plushed and powdered Mr. Jeames Toodles, into an illuminated billiard-room, and here he asked me for my card.

'Card!' reiterated I, reddening, for I had never discovered a use for such a thing before; 'no card is required; say that Allan Mac Innon wishes to speak with Sir Horace, without a moment's delay.'

The valet gave a supercilious smile; but, on perceiving me throw a hasty glance towards a rack of billiard-cues, he made a hasty retreat. After remaining for some time alone, and with no other company than my own bitter and galling reflections, I found the valet before me again; Sir Horace was just finishing dinner, and afterwards had to confer with a gentleman on business.

'And cannot see me?' I exclaimed, making a stride towards the speaker--a gesture which caused him to shuffle backward in terror; my heather-coloured kilt and fierce free mountaineer bearing had in them something new and appalling to him.

Mr. Toodles did not mean to say that exactly; Sir Horace would see me in the course of a few minutes; meantime, would I join Captain Clavering and Mr. Snobleigh, who were lingering over their wine, before ascending to the drawing-room? I bowed, and followed the valet mechanically, with a breast that swelled with many strange emotions. If I committed, in thought, the double sin of covetousness and envy on that occasion, when contrasting the humility, plainness, and penury of my dilapidated home with the splendour and luxury I beheld, it was not for myself, but for the sake of one whom I felt assured would not be long spared to me now; and whom not even the prediction of the Red Priest could protect from the hand of the Spoiler.

From the walnut sideboard the liveried servants were removing the dinner, the rich and overpowering odour of which filled that loftily ceiled, heavily curtained and gorgeous dining-room. To me it seemed a scene from a romance. The vases were richly gilt and mounted with precious stones; the dessert, _entree_ dishes, the soup-tureens, ashets, &c., with which the powdered lacqueys were trotting to and fro, were all of silver exquisitely chased; so were the classic wine-coolers, with the champagne in ice, and the ponderous branches of six wax-lights each. The wassail-bowl of silver had already made its tour; and at a side-table was the coffee simmering, and served in antique china and silver.

But the coffee was neglected, for Clavering, Snobleigh, and two or three other sporting visitors, with Sheriff Mac Fee, were loitering over their wine, fruit, and nuts; and the long polished table was resplendent with tall crystal decanters of the baronet's rare old port, vintage '34, sherry pure as amber, amontillado, first-growth claret, and straw-coloured champagne, foaming in goblet-shaped glasses, while old Hock, Stienberger, Malaga, and Moselle, stood in battalion under the sideboard, or in a cluster under the gigantic epergne.

'Welcome Mac Innon--delighted to see you, old fellow!' exclaimed Clavering, assuming the part of host.

'Aw--aw--how aw you?' added Snobleigh.

'Toodles, a chair for Mr. Mac Innon--wish you had come sooner--Sir Horace would have been happy to have seen you at dinner I am assured--hope you have dined, though? Ah--well, fill your glass--Toodles, champagne here, and pass the claret-jug.'

Sad, anxious, and most unhappy, I was silent, and drained the crystal goblet of champagne. Then my spirit warmed a little, and I joined in the conversation which naturally rose on local subjects, such as deer-stalking, grouse-shooting, and the famous white stag of Loch Ora, which many persons believed to be a myth, as no one could wound or kill it.

Even Mr. Fungus Mac Fee, the sheriff, could speak on these matters; but to me, always rather superciliously, because he knew but too well that my family was fallen and poor; while he always deferred to Mr. Snobleigh, who knew as much about deer-stalking as of squaring the circle, or adjusting the longitude. This sheriff knew intuitively that I hated him.

After toadying to his party, spinning out a subsistence by scribbling in magazines and papers in defence of it; after writing, with the same laudable view, a history of Scotland, in which the clans were handled with such severity, and one might suppose the soul of Cumberland had been in his ink-bottle, Mr. Mac Fee found himself sheriff of a county; and after denouncing on the hustings, and through the medium of a journal (long notorious in Scotland for its anti-nationality, its hatred of the Celtic race, and for being the special utensil of the Government,) the waste of one administration, he had no objection to accept of numerous sinecures for himself and his connections, under their successors; hence, he scraped a sufficient sum to purchase the small estate of Druckendubh. He was naturally coarse, argumentative, and full of vapour and authority; but here, among men of undisputed wealth and position--at least, the position which wealth insures to every blockhead in this conventional age--Fungus Mac Fee was the most bland and suave of mankind.

'Any news to-day, Mr. Mac Innon?' asked the sheriff, raising his impudent eyebrows.

'None, sir,' said I, sharply, for our Scottish placeman knew enough of Highland courtesy to be aware that the prefix was offensive to me.

'Have you not heard that the Russians have crossed the Pruth in two places, and mean to occupy Wallachia and Moldavia?'

'Yes; but I have other things to think of, Mr. Mac Fee, and I wish, in my soul, that they were crossing the Braes of Loch Ora.'

'A deuced odd wish that!' said Captain Clavering, 'but perhaps you don't like that straw-coloured champagne--try the pink.'

'Aw--try the claret-jug--you'll aw--find it rathaw the thing, said the languid Snobleigh, smoothing his bandolined moustache; 'Sir Horace is engaged in the library--aw--just now, with Mr. Snaggs--such a howibble name!--on business. Dem business--wish there was no such thing in the world; Snaggs is always annoying Sir Horace about something or other.'

My heart sank lower on hearing this; for even in this visit to the baronet, fate seemed to have conspired against me; but I should have remembered that naturally Sir Horace was frequently engaged in consultations with Snaggs, for being of a proud and tyrannical disposition, he was ever squabbling about rights and points of etiquette; taking offence where none was intended, and waging a legal--and to Snaggs most profitable--war, with the neighbouring proprietors, farmers, shepherds, and poachers.

'Fine girl that was, whom we met at the gathering the other day,' said the captain.

'Aw--vewy, for a Scots girl--but, aw--a little metaphysical,' responded Snobleigh, sleepily cracking a nut.

'Magnificent hand and arm, though!'

'Aw--rathaw--but she was so dooced pwoud.'

'She will have something handsome, gentlemen,' said Mac Fee, draining a glass of champagne at one vulgar gulp; 'when the people give place to fine fat sheep on her land. She is an heiress, and when six or eight of the small farms are formed into _one_--and you are pleased with her, captain?'

'f thought her the prettiest of all pretty girls--but flirting with her--pass the claret, thanks--would be mere waste of powder. I must keep my ammunition for better game.'

'Aw--Laura Everingham, I presume,' said Snobleigh, with a little spite in his eye and tone.

The Captain coloured slightly; a shade of annoyance crossed his brow, and regardless that I and others were present, Snobleigh continued to chatter away; and even this exasperated me, for misfortune had rendered me unduly sensitive.

'I assure you, Clavering, that girl Everingham will come in for a jolly good thing or two, when Sir Horace departs to a better world. I--aw--fished it all out of old Snaggs the other night by quoting Blair, and passing the bottle, so I'm a devilish good mind to--'

'What--pop the question, eh?'

'Aw--yes.'

'Then you may save yourself trouble, Snob, my boy, for she has refused me already, and other two of the Household Brigade: but I don't despair yet--for I have the governor's interest.'

'And you proposed--aw--the devil! this was rathaw an extensive proceeding. I thought that I knew how to manage horses and women too. For that, one requires considerable--aw--.'

'What?'

'Study--aw perseverance and care.'

'The ladies are infinitely obliged to you,' said Mac Fee.

'The future Mrs. Snobleigh particularly so,' laughed Clavering; 'Toodles, fill that devil of a claret jug--what the deuce is Sir Horace about?'

'Snaggs and he must have arranged some pretty extensive clearances by this time,' suggested the sheriff, with a furtive glance at me.

'In truth, Clavering,' said Snobleigh, who had been pondering a little; 'I aw--would feel restless with a wife so simple and handsome among the gay fellows of the Household Brigade.'

'Yes--you would be like the husband some one writes about, who,

"While Suspicion robs him of his ease,
Peculiar danger in a _red coat_ sees;
Envies each handsome fellow whom he spies.
And feels his _horns_ at every _cornet_ rise."

Eh--ha ha, ha!'

'Dem husbands--I hate them all.'

'Talking of the Brigade, have you heard of Jernyngham of your battalion lately?'

'He was well cleaned out before he--aw--disappeared from London; but don't know him now, poor devil.'

'It was at this "poor devil's" table you spent some of your happiest hours,' said Clavering, reproachfully. There was a pause, during which I turned towards the door, sick of this empty conversation, and impatient to see the baronet. After the learned Mac Fee had delivered himself for the tenth time of some stereotyped remarks on the heat of the weather, and the excellence of the wine, Mr. Snobleigh observed with his most languid air.

'I am tired of this kind of thing, and must go back to town. Horrid slow here in the 'Ighlands--and--aw--slow fellows all round about. Laura Everingham is chawming, no doubt; and--aw--your sister, Clavering, imparts quite a London air to the whole place; but I--aw--still long for Town. One always saves something, however, in this bawbawous wegion--beg pardon, Mr. Mac Fee, but--aw--aw--'tis so. Had Jernyngham been here, his stud had never been pounded at Tattersall's--his commission at Greenwood's, or his plate by aw--aw--the Lord's chosen people. Now, for instance, in the matter of gloves; in Town, I--aw--I take a walk--and spoil a pair; I take a canter along Rotten Row, or in Hyde Pawk, another pair; dinner, another pair, and for the opera or a ball, another pair, and--aw--aw--so on. And then when one is in debt, as of course everybody is but low scoundrels, the--aw--the saving in many things here is enormous; besides, one aw--acquires the habit of early rising.'

'So the Highlands are not without their advantages?' said I.

'Aw--yes. In London, if not for duty at Kensington or the Tower, I breakfast at one, on coffee and a cigaw; but here I rise at ten appetised like an 'Ighland 'awk--a glass of liqueur--tea, coffee, ham, tongue, game, fowl--aw, aw--dinner ditto; and after knocking about the balls a little, and having a _deux temps_ with Laura, or a game at guinea points, then a devilled bone and champagne--then to bed at two in the morning--at _two!_ aw--think of that Clavering--how Gothic--oh--aw--infernally!'

'Now,' said the sheriff, 'what say you to our proposed little game at écarté?'

'Bravo I--aw must have my revenge on Clavering; he walked into me for aw--one thousand two hundred.'

'So much?' exclaimed Mac Fee, aghast.

'Aw yes.'

'I have his little bill for it, at three months, with a promise to renew,' said Clavering, laughing.

'Then what shall we have to-night?'

'Whist--at crown points.'

'No higher?'

'No--I have a thousand pounds on that devilish horse at the Oaks, and must trot easily.'

'Whist be it, then;' and here they rose to adjourn, leaving me confounded by the ease with which they spoke of sums that to my simple Highland comprehension seemed enormous.

'Toodles--aw order some pink champagne and cigars to the card-room.'

'Cigars if you will,' said Clavering; 'but no champagne; dem it, no--I shall drink no more to-night of anything stronger than Father Adam's pale ale, while playing with _you_,' and just as they all left the dining-room by one door, I heard the voice of Sir Horace in communication with Snaggs, approaching it by another.

'To-morrow will decide the affair,' said Sir Horace, pausing with his fingers on the crystal door-handle.

'To-morrow or the day after, at latest, my dear sir,' responded the bland voice of Snaggs.

'Of course I am deuced sorry for the old woman, and all that sort of thing--for she must be very unhappy; but we have a great duty to perform--a great duty to society, Mr. Snaggs, and old women must not stand in the way of improvement.'

'To be sure, my dear Sir Horace; "every age," says the divine Blair, will prove burdensome to those who have no fund of happiness in their breast--and as for the young desperado her son, nothing whatever can be made of him.'

'Of course not; his head is filled with such quaint ideas and old Highland stuff, unsuited to modern times, habits, and usages, that he is a mere wild colt, and twice I have been told, pulled out of his stocking,--what do you call it?'

'Skene Dhu, or Black Knife, my dear sir,' suggested Mr. Snaggs.

'Ah yea--a skin doo, upon you, sir. I know not why these Highland fellows are allowed to bristle about with their daggers and skenes, when there are laws passed against the wearing of arms. But the truth is, the sooner that this young fellow and his people are sent off to America by the _Sutherland_, under Captain Sellars, the better. There are some fine swamps to drain, moors to cultivate, and woods to cut down in the Cunadas; and as for that great ruffian Cullum Dhu, who nearly murdered poor Toodles the other day--dem the fellow, I'll have him transported! Adversity teaches these fierce spirits no lesson.'

'True, my dear Sir Horace,' chimed in the moralist; '"adversity," exclaims the divine Blair, "how blunt are all the arrows of thy quiver, compared with those of guilt!"'

'Dem Blair--I am quite sick of him, too; but let us have a glass of Moselle, and then we'll join the ladies in the drawing-room. _You_ here, Mr. Mac Innon!' he exclaimed, with angry surprise on seeing me; 'how do ye do, sir,' he added, with a dark countenance; 'my friend Mr. Snaggs and I have just closed a long conversation about you.'

'I am sorry to hear it, Sir Horace, for now I fear my visit here is bootless.'

'You judge most correctly, if you have come to ask delay about my projected clearances.'

There was a glare in the sharp eye, and a smile on the thin lips of Snaggs, as Sir Horace said this. I felt my eyes flash fire as anger gathered in my heart; for heaven never intended me either for a temporiser or a diplomatist.

'I was about to speak to you, Sir Horace, not of myself, but of my mother, who is aged, sickly, infirm, and unable to comprehend how any power on earth possesses a law to expel her from Glen Ora.'

'Now, young man, you irritate me! This is the rock upon which all you Celts split your very obtuse heads. The good lady, your mother, with the rest of the people on that portion of my estate, must learn that the tenant has no right in the soil.'

'None whatever, legally or morally,' added Snaggs.

'_Your_ property!' I replied, trembling with passion; 'it would have been as much as your head is worth to have said this to a Mac Innon on the spot where you stand, a hundred years--ay fifty years ago. But it is of my mother I would speak--'

'Nay, sir--excuse me--I will hear nothing; moreover, your presence here is an unwarrantable intrusion; the ladies, Mr. Snaggs, await us at coffee.'