Kitabı oku: «Playing With Fire», sayfa 4

"You ought, then, to have come home."

"I had no excuse for doing so."

"And you had an excuse for staying, eh?"

"Yes."

"Lord Cramer?"

"He begged me to stay. And, as I am going to marry him, I did what he desired, of course."

"Of course. And, of course, you will do what your father desires?"

"If Father is reasonable."

"The Fifth Command says you are to obey your father, and it does not make any exceptions as to whether he is reasonable or unreasonable."

"I intend to marry Richard, and no other man in all the wide world."

"You do not require to be so pointed about it. There is no one here wishes to prevent you."

"No one can prevent me, Aunt. I love Richard and he loves me. We fell in love with each other the moment we met."

"That is the right way. I like men that go over head and ears at first sight. Most take little careful steps, hesitating, fearing, one at a time. Cowardly lovers! No woman wants such. She just looks scornfully at them, and then turns her eyes toward something pleasanter."

All afternoon they talked on this and kindred subjects, and the time went so rapidly that the clock struck five before Mrs. Caird reflected that the Minister was two or three hours behind his usual time. What was keeping him? What was wrong? Then she began to worry about Donald; for, if anything usual becomes unusual, our first thought is not – what is right? or what is happy or profitable? but, always, what is wrong? And Mrs. Caird's anxieties drifted to the youth she loved so dearly.

"I wonder! I wonder whatever is wrong, Marion? Your father is always home by three, or at most four o'clock. I am feared something is wrong with Donald." And, in spite of Marion's optimistic persuasions, she was constantly asking her heart this woeful question. From the door to the gate she went with tiresome frequency, but it was after eight o'clock ere she saw two men walking leisurely toward the house. The twilight was over the earth, and nothing was very clear, but she knew them. Hurrying into the house she called to Marion in a voice of great pleasure and excitement:

"Your father is coming! And Donald is with him! And what can that mean?"

"Something good, Aunt."

But Mrs. Caird did not hear her. She was ordering this and that luxury, which she knew would be welcome to the belated travelers, and she had the natural wisdom and good-nature which never once asked, "What kept you so late?" She was satisfied with their presence, and with the fact that both were happy, and in the most affectionate mood with each other. She placed Donald's chair beside her own and, when he touched her hand, or smiled in her face, or whispered, "Dear, dear Aunt!" she had a full payment for all her anxious hours about him.

It was not until Marion and Donald had gone to their rooms that the Minister felt inclined to explain his tardy return from the city. "I was afraid you would be anxious, Jessy," he said; and she answered, "Not about you, Ian. I knew you were all right, but I was feared about Donald. I thought something was wrong with him, and I could not fix on any particular danger. I thought of the trains and the sea, but someway they both assured my mind they were innocent of doing him any harm. The trouble was an unknown one. What was it, Ian?"

"Not much, Jessy. Donald has not been behaving himself after the ways and manners approved of by the Reids."

"I never yet heard any word of the Reids being set for our example. What way was Donald breaking their laws?"

"It seems, Jessy, that last Wednesday night there was some kind of civic anniversary – the Provost's birthday, or the birthday of some great man or other. I have totally forgotten the name or event. And serenading came into the thoughts of Donald and four others, and they lifted their violins and went together to the Provost's house. As it happened, he was eating a late supper after his speech in the City Hall, and the lads played and sang the songs in every Scotsman's heart. And there were three or four of his cronies with the Provost and, when the lads had sang twice over, they brought in the singers and made them sit and drink a glass of toddy at their table, and the Provost thanked them heartily and gave them a five-pound note to share between them."

 
'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled,'
 

"That was fine! The Provost is a gentleman. And he knew how to win the hearts of the Scotch laddies growing up to be good Scotchmen. Who were the five lads, Ian?"

"Donald was the leader, and there were with him Matthew Ballantyne, David Kerr, John Montrose, and Allan Reid, all of them members of my Wednesday night Bible class."

"Then I cannot believe they did anything much out of the way, unless the Reids' way is narrower than the Bible way."

"After they left the Provost's, Donald suddenly bethought himself that it was also his Uncle Hector's birthday, and they all went to his big house in Blytheswood Square. There was a light in his parlor; for, you know, he always reads until the new day is born, and this night he was reading 'Nicholas Nickleby,' and laughing with himself over that insane Mark Tapley's pretenses to be jolly. Suddenly the violins asked sweetly and passionately, 'Wha Wadna Fecht for Charlie'? The old man took no notice. Then they all together began to merrily tell him,

 
''Twas up the craggy mountain,
And down the wooded glen,
They durst na go a-milking,
For Charlie and his men.'
 

And by the time they had finished this delightful complaint, and Donald had lifted his voice to assert that,

 
'Geordie sits in Charlie's chair,'
 

and exhorted all true Hieland men,

 
'Keep up your hearts, for Charlie's fight,
Come what will, you've done what's right,'
 

a crowd had gathered. For, you know, Jessy, how Donald can sing men out of themselves, and the crowd began to sing with him, so that this passionate little rant filled the square. Windows were lifted, and doors flung open, and men and women at them joined heartily in the song."

"And wherever were the constables?"

"They were singing with the crowd, and no necessity for them to interfere. It was a perfectly orderly crowd, singing their national songs, and when they had finished

 
'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled,'
 

and fervently assured each other they,

 
'For Scotland's King and law,
Freedom's sword would strongly draw,
Free men stand, and free men fa','
 

my Uncle Hector threw wide his door, and bid the lads into his parlor.

"He is a grand old pagan – I mean saint."

"Say what you mean, Jessy. Donald says he looked proudly at him, and he thought for a moment he was going to kiss him, but instead of that ceremony, which might have been a little abashing and confusing to the lad, his uncle led him to the hearth and, pointing to two swords crossed over the chimneypiece, he said:

"'Look well at them, Hieland laddies! They were in the hands of Alexander and Fergus Macrae when they fought to the death for King James and Prince Charlie. God rest their souls!'"

At these words the Minister became silent, words appeared to choke him, and his eyes held a glimpse of the old dead world of his fathers. Jessy, also, was speechless, but their silence was fitter than any words could be.

In a short time the Minister steadied himself and proceeded: "The four young men with Donald doffed their bonnets, and looked silently at the weapons that had come home red from Culloden's bloody field, and were still holding the red rust of carnage; but Donald stretched up his hand and touched them reverently, and then kissed his hand, and he told me his tears wet the kiss, and that he was proud of them – and really, Jessy, my own eyes were not dry – and a wave of – love came over me – and I – before I knew it – had clasped Donald's hand and I think – yes, I am sure, I kissed him! I wonder at myself! Whatever made me do it?"

"The love of God, Ian, which is the love of all good and gracious things. The love of God, which is the love of your son, and the love of your country, and the love of all the noble feelings for which men dare to die, and go and tell Him so. And what next, Ian? What next?"

"Uncle Hector called his valet, and bid him 'Bring in the punch bowl,' but Donald said they had drank from the Provost's bowl all that was good for them. The old man then asked them to play him a reel, and off went 'The Reel of Tullochgorum.' One of the boys from the orchestra played, and the other four danced it with wonderful spirit and, though my uncle did not try the springing step, he snapped the time with his fingers and beat it with his feet and was in a kind of transfiguration. After the dance they sang 'Auld Lang Syne' together, and then the old man was weary with his emotion and he said:

"'Good boys! Good night! You have given my old age one splendid hour of its youth back again! My soul and my heart thank you, and here is a ten-pound note to ware on yourselves and good Scotch music'; and so with a 'God bless you all!' he bid them good-bye!"

"It was a splendid hour and he did well to ware ten pounds on it."

"Elder Reid did not think so and, after the Sabbath service, he asked me to give him half-an-hour's conversation at his office in the morning. I thought it was concerning Allan and Marion, but Donald, on Sabbath night, told me about the serenade, and so I went to Reid's office in the morning quite prepared for the subject of offense."

"Did Elder Reid say anything about your uncle?"

"He said only think of that old pagan, Hector Macrae, giving the ranting boys ten pounds of good money!"

"'Major Macrae,' I corrected. 'He won his title on memorable battlefields, Elder, and he has every right to it.' And, I added, 'He is far from being a pagan. I wish we all loved God as sincerely as he does.' Then Reid cooled a little, and answered, 'You know, Minister, it would have been almost a miracle if he had given ten pounds to our Foreign Mission Fund. I asked him myself one day, and he pretended to be deaf, and would say nothing but 'Eh? What? I don't hear you! I'm vera busy!' and so to his bills and papers without even a 'Seat yourself, Elder,' and not a penny for the Foreign Mission Fund.'"

Jessy laughed, a queer, indeterminate little laugh, and the Minister looked at her doubtfully, and then continued, "I reminded him that the Major gave with both hands to our Home Missions, and that men gave as their hearts moved them; also, that Christ considered Home Missions had the prior claim, 'First at Jerusalem,' and so also first in Glasgow, and then in India. 'We are getting off our subject,' I said to him and he answered crossly, 'An altogether silly subject, kissing old swords, dancing old reels, snapping fingers and the like of such old world nonsense. I think Major Macrae forgot his duty, he should have admonished the young men, and not encouraged them in their foolishness.'"

"What did you say to that, Ian?" asked Mrs. Caird.

"I reminded him that, in Leviticus, nineteenth chapter and fourteenth verse, it is written, 'Thou shalt not curse the deaf'; and I added, 'The absent are also the deaf, they cannot speak for themselves. I need say no more to you, Elder.' And he begged pardon, and admitted he might be judging Major Macrae wrong, for it was true a great many people thought him a perfect saint; and I said, 'You know, Elder, that a country is in a poor way when its religious life does not blossom in saints.'"

"Was Donald in the office when you went there?"

"Yes, I saw him counting up a line of figures as I passed his desk, and I felt sorry for the boy."

"I am glad of that, Ian. It was the best sign of grace you have had for a long time."

"Do not say such a thing as that, Jessy. I love my son with my whole heart. My life for his, if it were necessary."

"Forgive me, Ian! I believe you. What was the Elder wanting to talk to you about?"

"He asked, first, if I had spoken plainly to Marion concerning his son's offer. I told him I had no opportunity to do so, as she had been visiting Lady Cramer for the past three weeks. Then he continued to urge Allan's claims until I grew weary of the talk, and I finally said – "

"That Marion must not be forced to marry anyone, surely you said that much, Ian?"

"Not quite that, Jessy. I promised to stand by Allan and to urge Marion to favor him, but I added, 'There is a certain right, Elder, which draws a girl to the one man in the world for her. It is not much believed in, but perhaps it is the only Divine Right in this world.' He seemed puzzled at my remark, and I did not explain it. Then he was huffy, and said he would make free to call my 'Divine Right' Richard Cramer, a poor lord, with all his income mortgaged, and no morality to balance his poverty."

"You could have cleared yourself on that score. Why did you not tell him you were as much against Lord Cramer as he could be?"

"I was angry at the purse-proud creature, and I would say neither good nor ill of Lord Cramer. I let him see, and feel, I thought his words and temper very unbecoming in the Senior Elder of the Church of the Disciples, and so left him feeling very uncomfortable."

Then Jessy looked admiringly at her brother-in-law. She knew well how "uncomfortable" he could make people under his Scriptural reproofs.

"How was it Donald got home with you?" she asked. "Was the little favor a propitiation for the Elder's unguarded temper? Did the Elder know he was coming?"

"As I left him, I said, 'I will tell Donald to meet me at Stewart's for lunch, and I will give him suitable counsel, Elder'; and the man was on his highest horse at once, and answered, 'I hope you will, sir. For your sake, I should hate to send Donald off, but I must do so if he leads my son into any more ridiculous tom-fooleries. Allan has a tender conscience, and he felt he had done wrong, so he came straight to me and made his confession. I hope Donald will be equally frank with you.'"

"So Donald lunched with you at Stewart's? I am proud of that occurrence, Ian."

"I was proud likewise. There were over a dozen ministers present, and they all looked up and looked pleased when we entered the room together. Every one had a word of praise and hope for Donald, and nearly all said, 'You will be for St. Andrews, Donald, no doubt.' I am afraid I had more personal pride in the lad's beauty, fine carriage, and fine manner than I ought to have had, but – "

"Not any too much. What advice did you give him?"

"None of any kind. I do not think Donald did anything wrong. If Elder Reid has fears for his son, let him look after him. I certainly told Donald that the Elder would send him off if he tempted his son Allan again; and perhaps I let Donald see and feel that I should not be grieved at all if he relieved Mr. Reid's anxiety about his son's morals."

"Did Donald understand you?"

"He said, 'Thank you, Father!' And then I remarked you were wearying to see him, and that I would wait in Bath Street until three o'clock if he wished to go to Cramer with me."

"But did you not come by that train?"

"No. I saw that Donald could not forego the pleasure of 'sending himself off' and this he could not do until Reid returned to his office after the lunch hour."

"I hope he kept in mind the fact that Mr. Reid is your chief Elder, and used few and civil words as became his youth and his position."

"He behaved like a gentleman. He apologized for asking his son to join the serenading party, and begged leave to resign his stool in the office lest he might offend again. And the Elder was much annoyed, and replied that he hoped he would remain; for, Jessy, I am sure he was in his heart very proud of Allan being invited into the Provost's parlor to eat and drink with the notables there."

"Certainly he was, and he will talk of the lad's capers as long as he lives, and in a little while both Allan and his father will have come to believe that the whole affair was of Allan's planning and management."

"I have no doubt of it. Donald, however, refused even his offer of a higher salary to begin in September and, bowing respectfully, left him alone with his disappointment and chagrin. As he was going through the office, Allan called him, and then Donald's temper got a little beyond his control, and he walked near to where Allan sat among the clerks, and said, 'I have no words for a tale-bearer, Allan Reid. He is always a contemptible fellow, and I warn you, gentlemen, that you are with a spy and a mischief-maker.' That is the end of the circumstance, Jessy."

"You little know whether it is the end or the beginning, Ian."

"As far as Donald is concerned, I mean. He came to me radiantly happy and satisfied with himself and, after we had drank a cup of tea, we came leisurely home."

"Very leisurely. I'll admit that. Well, we have to take ourselves as we are and other people as we can get them, and it is not always an easy job."

"Indeed, Jessy, there is scarcely anything that is at the same time more wise and more difficult."

CHAPTER IV
THE GREAT TEMPTATION

 
"Love not, love not! Oh, warning vainly said,
In present years, as in the years gone by;
Love flings a halo round the dear one's head
Faultless, immortal – till they change or die."
 

It was a warm, sunny day in August, and the slim and graceful Adalaide, Lady of Cramer, was waiting and watching for Dr. Macrae. She had a new purpose in her heart, and it was evident not only in her eyes, which were full of a soft blue fire – languid yet masterful – but also in her dress, from which every trace of black had been eliminated. In a soft flowing gown of white lawn and lace, with belt and bows of white satin, she looked fresh and lovely as a flower on the day of its birth.

"Take my book and work-basket to the Ladies' Rest, Flora," she said to her maid, "and if there are callers, they may come to me. Tell Brodie to attend them."

The Ladies' Rest was a circle of wonderful turf in the very center of which stood a gigantic oak, whose far-stretching branches kept the circle in a dreamy, shadowy peace. Near the heart of the circle there were seats, and a small table, and my Lady, standing in white on its green turf, with the green and golden lights of the garden all around her, was as fair a creature as mortal eyes could desire to see.

When left alone her elfin prettiness became particularly noticeable, for she was practicing her bewildering ways to her own thoughts, her manner being at one moment arch and coquettish, and at the next pensive and affectionate; practicing all her small facial arts with the predeterminate aim and intention of capturing the hitherto impregnable, insensible heart of the handsome Minister.

He was quite unconscious of the danger into which he was walking, and his thoughts were on the eternities, and the tremendous destinies that are connected with them. The gravity induced by such thoughts was becomingly dignified, and Lady Cramer thought him handsomer than even her imagination had painted him. Certainly he was worth captivating, and she was resolved to effect this purpose. Indeed she wondered at herself for not having accomplished such a delightful triumph before.

But, if she had honestly examined her dilatory movement in this direction, she would have known that it was caused by facts brought vividly to her notice during the past few weeks, when Cramer Hall had been filled with company of a pleasantly mixed character – young nobles and soldiers, and many types of beautiful and eligible young ladies. Every one, then, had regarded her as a kind of matron, and she found all her pretenses to be yet of the younger set quietly put aside. She was admired and treated with the greatest respect, but no one made love to her; and she was piqued and humbled by this neglect.

"Because I am thirty-two," she said to herself, "because I am thirty-two, I was treated like an old lady. The insolence of youth is intolerable!" Then she heard steps upon the flagged walk and, turning, saw the stately, rather somber figure of the man whose conquest she was meditating approaching her. She met him with charming smiles, and little fluttering attentions and, in words soft and hesitating, tried to hide, and yet to express her great joy in his presence. "It is so long – so long – since I saw you! I have felt desolate and, oh, so lonely!"

"Lonely! You have had so much pleasant company."

"But you never came – not even when I wrote and asked you – did you know how cruel you were? My company was young and thoughtless – no one cared for me – I longed to see your face you never came – I have been very lonely – but now! Oh, you cannot tell what a pleasure it is to have someone to talk to who does not regard tennis and golf as the chief end and duty of man," and she smiled and laid her jeweled white hand confidingly on his.

He was much astonished, but also greatly touched, by her frankness and evident joy in his presence; and, as any other man would have done, he accepted her gracious kindness without doubt or consideration. Her pretty face, full of sympathetic revelations, and her flattering words went like wine to his head and heart, his eyes dilated with pleasure, and he clasped the hand she had laid upon his own. Its soft warmth, its slight pressure, the tender smile on her lips, the love light in her eyes, were to his starving soul irresistible temptations. But he never thought of these things as temptations; if he had done so, there was in him a Will gigantic enough to have put them behind him. As a man dying of thirst would have seized a glass of cold water, so his soul, famishing for love, took hastily, greedily, the astonishing blessing offered him. Scarcely could he believe in his happiness; yet fast, oh, so fast, he forgot everything before this hour! And when he left Cramer it was with his heart like a spring brimming over with love.

Under the sweet strength of the stars he walked home. He felt that he could not meet Mrs. Caird until he had communed with himself in the silence and solitude of the night. His whole life, without his expectation or conscious desire, had been changed. Something wonderful had taken place. He thought he had loved before, but this startling, unforeseen, and unmistakable passion filled him with rapture and a kind of sacred fear. He had in no way sought it. By some Power far above him it had been sent. Yet his beating heart, his strange joy, his firm step, active brain, and glad outlook on life taught him that all the long years of his ascetic rejection of love must have been a mistake.

When he reached home he had not decided whether it would be prudent to tell his sister-in-law of the new joy that had come into his life. His nature was reticent, and he felt a keen personal pleasure in the secrecy of his love. He did not dream of her suspecting or discovering it. He found her sitting on the little porch absolutely idle. He was astonished at the circumstance, and more so at her face and manner, which were both sad and weary.

"Are you sick, Jessy," he asked, "or have I stayed too long at the Hall?"

"You are sooner home than I expected. How are all there?"

"No one is there at present but Lady Cramer. We had dinner together, and I came away as soon as I could well leave. She is very lonely."

"So am I, for that matter."

"Marion is with you."

"In a way, not much. Her heart is at Oban or thereabout."

"Lady Cramer told me that Lord Cramer and Donald had gone on a tramp together. They are walking through the western highlands. It did not please me."

"And why not?"

"Because it is strengthening Donald's love of adventure and change. I wanted him to rest quietly here until we returned to Glasgow. Then I hoped he would be willing and glad to enter St. Andrews, and to settle down to the life I intended for him."

"If he had stayed here, I think he would have regarded St. Andrews with delight. The company of hundreds of young men, the pleasant city, and the fine golf ground would make St. Andrews – after a month of this place – a very Elysium of satisfaction."

"I thought this place was like the Garden of Eden to you."

"I don't blame Eve, if it is. All right for a settled woman like me, and yet I, myself, am missing my afternoon callers and the library. And the two lasses are growing surly for want of company. Aileen was saying an hour ago that, 'If there was only a constable, and a hand-organ passing now and then,' she could bear the loneliness better."

"As for me, I like it more and more. I am thinking of asking the Church to get a supply for a month. I feel a little rest to be necessary."

"I feel as if I had had enough of the country."

"What does Marion say?"

"She is as happy here as anywhere. All places are wearisome to those who live for a person who is not in the place."

"And Lady Cramer tells me that her stepson is miserable if he is not with Donald. She says they are inseparable and very unhappy if apart."

"Like to like, the wide world over."

"But they are not alike."

"You do not know your son. I do. But if you take a month's rest here, you might get through that weary, useless reading of silly books and sillier manuscripts."

"I hope it is not useless reading, Jessy. Every book that discredits scientific theology adds to the evidences of Christianity."

Then Jessy lost control of herself, for she answered angrily, "Do you think, Ian, that I have not read 'Evidences'? Let me tell you how I felt after reading Paley's. I just thought it probable that Christianity might be true. That was only an opinion, but let a man or woman do God's will, until He speaks within them like a living voice, and then they will know there is a God."

"But, Jessy, – "

"Don't interrupt me. I must tell you the truth. Upon my word, I believe you are training yourself to the habit of doubting much and believing little. You have dropped words lately I did not like, and I do not like your selfishness about your children. I have always noticed, as religious faith dies, selfishness takes the place of self-sacrifice. There were the Dalrys! Their children were lost to everything good, because they were forced to marry where they did not love. What have you got to do with Marion's love? I wonder sometimes if you ever loved my little sister! I am doubting it."

"Jessy, – "

"Yes, I am doubting it. You thought it no sin to urge her to leave father and mother, and go away with yourself, though the Bible lays it down as the man's duty to leave father and mother for his wife's sake. Marion wants to do nothing worse than you begged Agnes to do. There is a change – a change for the worse – in you, Ian. I cannot just put my finger on it, but I feel it. Yes, I feel it."

"That may be so, Jessy. We all change, and no wrong done by it. We must in some way carry about with us the aura of any book that takes possession of our thoughts or feelings. The doubtful books I have been reading so steadily have their own influence – perhaps not a good one."

"A very bad one."

"In a way, you are right, Jessy. It makes me unhappy and uncertain, and with a strong insistence leads me from one skeptical writer to another. I wish to destroy them all!"

"Ian, you are not the man appointed to destroy the devil. Keep yourself out of his power, and leave the devil and all his books to God Almighty."

"Many of these skeptical books show a reverent spirit, Jessy."

"I will not believe that. As far as I can judge, they are altogether destructive. They have no business in this room, though in the libraries of hell they ought to be given high place and honor."

"The libraries of hell! What an idea!"

"A very reasonable one. There are books that have slain more souls than any man could slay – but – "

"O Jessy, Jessy! Doubts will come, even if you fight them on your knees – will come to thoughtful men and women; and doubt can only be cured by investigation."

"As far as I can see, the doubt of all Doubters is just the same, and the Book of Job contains as much philosophy of that kind as the world is ever likely to come to. But I notice that, as soon as doubting gets hold of a man, he will believe anything, so long as it is not in the Bible."

"The 'Evidences of Christianity' – "

"Ian, I have no patience with you. If there is anything plain and clear in the religious teachings of the Bible, it is that religion proves itself. Spiritual things are spiritually discerned, not intellectually. If a man has had a good dinner, he knows it; there is no need to argue about the matter. If a soul thirsts after righteousness and drinks of the Waters of Life, it knows it, and is happy and satisfied; it does not want evidences that it is so."

"You are right, Jessy, but what is the matter with you to-night? You are very queer – I may say 'cross.'"

"I am neither queer nor cross. This afternoon, for a few moments, I lost my bodily senses, and found myself– and I saw a black cloud coming straight to our house – coming as if it knew just where to go – as if it had been sent. And it entered the house, and I came to myself in a dream and sweat of terror; and I am feared for my children, for they are heart of my heart. And your selfish way with them both is enough to call some tragedy, a deal worse than a marriage that does not suit you, or the taking of his own way by a good, brave lad who is sure not to take a wrong way, though it may not be the one you prefer."

"Marion has no knowledge of the world, and it is my duty to stand between her and the world."

"Marion loves Richard Cramer, and if she is willing to thole his temper and all the rest of his shortcomings, it is likely her appointed way toward perfection – it seems to be God's commonest way of training women. You do not require to bear with Cramer in any way. He will not trouble you, for there is no doubt he thinks you as selfish and disagreeable as you think him."

"I dislike Lord Cramer for his immoralities."

"God puts up with what you call his 'immoralities,' and I think you need not be so strict to mark iniquity – if there is any. In my opinion, Cramer is as good as the rest of men – fond of women's company, of course, and, like Donald, daft about music and fine singing, but what good man is not?"

"As for Donald, I only ask him to walk in my own footsteps."