Lindigo, the White Woman/Chapter 7

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1330216Lindigo, the White Woman — Chapter VIIAngus McLean

CHARTER VII.

HOW TO CURE HIGHLAND GIRLS' LOVE FOR ENGLISHMEN.

The progress which Mr. John Brown, Lord Lundy's valet, made on the susceptible heart of Mary Grant greatly flattered that young man, and alarmed her true and devoted lover, Donald Munro. In order, therefore, to reconquer the fair citadel, the piper resolved on bringing all his ingenuity and forces to bear for the consummation of that object. However, no feasible artifice appeared to him, save the one which the reader has already heard, and which he hinted to his young master the evening of the bonfire. The favourable opportunity for prosecuting his wished-for plan at length arrived.

John Brown, on the other hand, satisfied in his own own mind that his impression on the heart of the pretty, lively Highland girl was quite successful, all he now wished for was an occasional chance of paying her his respects and enjoying her pleasant company; and in order to accomplish that object, he thought it proper to cultivate Donald Munro's friendship and companionship through whom he expected to be introduced among Mr. M'Kay's servants, and into his establishment. In gaining thus the confidence of Munro, on whose ignorance, as he thought, he could play by making a tool of him, he would find access to Mary Grant. The wily piper, who was not to be caught with chaff, soon perceived the drift of the flunkey; however, feigning ignorance and simplicity as to his object, Munro manifested great willingness in forwarding Brown's addresses.

One day on meeting each other, among other topics discussed between them, Brown hinted that he heard of a brews, or an illicit whiskey distillery, being carried on among the hills, somewhere near hand.

This was the very thing which Munro wished for, and answered that he himself was among the few who were privy to the situation of the brews, and, as a favour, would conduct Brown (who apparently felt very curious to see it) to the secret retreat; and, to make their visit more acceptable to the smugglers, he would bring his pipes, to which they were very partial. Brown was in ecstacies at the proposition, and the pair started off.

The valet often during the journey secretly wished that he had not undertaken the journey, which was, of course, prosecuted on foot, and which threatened every moment the destruction of his gaudy livery. However, not wishing to show the white feather, or that Donald should have anything discreditable to tell Mary against himself, he strove to follow his agile guide, who sprung from one obstacle to the other, like a native mountain deer.

The travellers at length came in sight of the mysterious retreat, which was situated below them in a dell or chasm between two rocks, which served as a natural wall, over which was erected a roof formed of rough timber, and covered over with turf or scraths. A cascade of running water flowed by the end of the building, from which a long wooden trough conducted a constant supply of water to the worm. Clouds of dark smoke which issued from the building, hung round the dell, giving it a terrible and forbidding appearance to the eye of the affrighted cockney, who viewed the scene with awe and misgivings, and brought to his mind tales of robbers and banditti, and their wild haunts. Munro read at a glance the state of his companion's feelings, and saw that his courage began to fail him. Seeing that his own plans might miscarry were Brown to beat a retreat, he propped up the latter's pluck with the following encouraging words—"This looks rather a wild and unpromising place to the eye of a stranger, but if you once visit it, and become acquainted with the jolly fellows who inhabit it, you will be much pleased, and also contribute to the many novelties you have met with in the Highlands, which your London acquaintances will, I am sure, be happy to hear when you return."

These words had the desired effect; Brown's courage and love for novelty at once returned, and he intimated his willingness to descend the dell at once. Donald now proposed a plan which would add to their stock of amusement on coming so far, after their toil and trouble. This was that, on nearing the brews, Brown should enter alone, while Donald would hide in some cover convenient, and being a stranger and his singular livery, he would be taken by the smugglers for a gauger, which would cause a panic among them, and a hasty retreat of the smugglers, but which would be explained afterwards by Donald himself who would recall the fugitives.

Brown at once entered into the spirit of the lark, as he termed it, and both commenced the intricate descent.

According to arrangements, Donald ensconsed himself behind a tuft of heather contiguous, and Brown advanced towards the abode with an effort and forced consequence; plucking up his fast sinking courage, he entered and stood horror struck in the entrance.

As Munro predicted, the smugglers had already deserted, for the brews was untenanted by any human being. The valet gazed around the wild and novel habitation. A row of large vats containing some bubbling liquid stood against the rock or natural wall; a large boiler over a fire occupied one end of the building, and another of a different construction occupied the other. This last boiler or pot had a head on, from which proceeded the worm which coiled itself down into an upright cask like a large serpent, and over which a constant supply of water from the before-mentioned trough flowed. But what attracted the awe-struck and terrified stranger, and almost made him beat a hasty retreat, was an enormous black buck goat which stood in the middle of the floor with his terrible horns, long beard, and staring grey eyes, as if to contest his entrance.

Brown's knees trembled under him on gazing at the animal, which he expected every moment would make a spring at him and toss him on his horns. While thus debating in his own mind whether to retreat or call out to Munro, and as if to finish his career in this life, a sack from behind was slipped over his head and body, and a strong cord, which ran through its mouth, tightened with a jerk round his legs, upsetting him in an instant, leaving him powerless on the floor at the mercy of the smugglers, who now stood over him, debating in Gaelic how to dispose of the supervisor, as they imagined him.

Whenever the unfortunate prisoner was able to clear his breathing organs from the dust and finely cracked malt which fell from the sack, he roared out lustily for Munro, expecting every moment to be pitched into one of the large boilers, or over a precipice.

It must be here mentioned that, as Munro anticipated, when the smugglers, who were three stout young fellows, perceived Brown in his strange clothes approaching, they took him, not for a guager, but a supervisor, or head excise officer. They instantly retreated to the other end of the brews, taking the sack, which was made for such an emergency; and as Brown hesitated in the entrance, surveying the interior, particularly the pet buck, one of them slipped the sack over his head and body as already mentioned.

The question now was how to dispose of him, and as neither of them could understand a word of English, much less the strange noise which issued from the sack (as Brown's dialect was not the most intelligible at the best of times), they interpreted the word Munro (that name being pronounced in Gaelic Rouch) for mo shron, or my nose; as if the prisoner complained of the maltreatment of his nasal organ; to which they answered, "Ciod as mo viru do shron, na do thou" (what care we for your nose or nether end), and applying their toes unmercifully to that delicate part at the same time.

The unfortunate prisoner now roared out—"Am no 'xiseman, 'am his Lodship's walot!" when the last words were interpreted by them for, Na loisg a whaleid—"Don't burn the wallet"—imagining that he appeared like a wallet while in the sack, and dreading they might throw him into the fire.

This was answered by "Cha loisgsinse a whaleid aeh bogaidh sinse i" (We shan't burn the wallet; but we'll soak her.)

This last interpretation brought a fit of laughter from Munro, who was peeping through a hole at the amusing scene, and which betrayed his ambush. He soon came to the unlucky valet's rescue, and saved him from a thorough ducking, which his gaolers were on the eve of putting into execution.

On being liberated from his uncomfortable imprisonment, Brown gave vent to a storm of abuse and threats of informing against the smugglers, which, if they understood, would have inevitably tempted them to put in force the unpleasant process of ducking him, notwithstanding Munro's intervention. This fact the latter hinted to the enraged valet, which, for his own safety, silenced him at once, and order was soon restored between the belligerents, through the able mediation of the piper.

A copious supply of the different drinkables which the brews contained was served round, soon changing the offensive propensities of the parties into that of cordiality and good fellowship; and to crown the amnesty and hilarity, Munro played several lively airs on his pipes, to which the smugglers danced with right goodwill, and pressed Brown to join, in order to make up a reel of four, the gloomy dell resounding with their merry exclamations.

Whether it was owing to his heavy potations of drinks before now strange to him, or that some charm was connected with his wild and novel situation, we cannot say, the valet never felt himself so elated or prone to uncontrolled hilarity. The perspiration streamed down his face with the excitement, and his proficiency in the Highland fling, (under the able tuition of the younger smuggler, or sack inventor, who professed great regard for Brown and who, bye the bye, was a very mischievous person) became every moment more apparent.

Feigning great regard to Brown (entirely for practising his fun on him) the young smuggler, on the plea of wiping the perspiration off the valet's face with his fingers, which were previously drawn round the bottom part of the large copper boiler, where a coating of black had accumulated from the smoke of the peat fire; and never had an actor, when preparing a character in a burlesque or tragedy, delineated such expansive eyebrows, mustachoes curling up the cheeks, imperials down the chin, and a perpendicular stroke down the length of the nose, as the mischievous smuggler had traced on the handsome and clean-shaven face of Mr. Brown, who now more resembled an Italian bandit than Lord Lundy's valet, butler, and body-servant.

After the dancing, the company proposed a song, and several Gaelic verses were sung by each of the smugglers, who, in their turn, called on Mr. Brown.

A small keg was placed on end at one side of the brews for the accommodation of that gentleman, while the rest ranged themselves immediately opposite, where they were soon treated to a variety of his vocal abilities, and his relish for singing and wetting his whistle became more and more apparent as he proceeded, which highly delighted his audience, although the majority of them were ignorant of the meaning of every word that issued from his lips, and we must confess, it would defy better versed people in the English language to make it out, as his tongue had apparently became much thicker; the letter R being entirely banished from his vocabulary, and the V and W having exchanged places.

The singer also had a habit of closing his eyes, to give more pathos to his poetical effusions, and this was accompanied by inclinations of the body forward at the end of each verse.

His mixed potations now began to show themselves, and Morpheus threatened to close his vocal career, when his voice lowered from its former high key to that of a low cadence resembling the lullaby of a sleepy mother to her restless babe at midnight.

If the smugglers were amused at the comic character before them, there was one tenant of the brews who did not look on the painted face of the singer with the same satisfied air. This was the pet goat.

Stepping up quietly, and taking his position immediately before the sleepy Brown, and taking every inclination of his head for a challenge to himself, the buck now returned each of these salutations by bringing his horns within an inch of the singer's forehead. At length a heavier and lower lurch forward succeeded, when the enraged buck (whose temper was raised to its highest pitch) raised himself on his hind legs in that attitude of antagonism peculiar to them when fighting, and coming down with his formidable horns on the unfortunate valet's head, sent him sprawling on the ground roaring out "am mudered! am mudered!"

The laughing spectators raised up the fallen hero, and found that no serious damage had been done to his cranium (his hat having fortunately broken the force of the assailant's blow), the only visible marks being two bumps on his forehead. This was, however, sufficient warning for the valet to leave a place where he would be liable to receive a repetition of such unwelcome visitations, and a motion for departure was made by himself and Munro. It was not without a great deal of argument that he could be convinced of his real antagonist, or that it was the buck instead of one of the party that had committed the assault.

After quaffing another cuach as a deoch-an-dorais the pedestrians again commenced their journey homewards. They had not, however, gone far when the shades of evening closed around them, adding to Brown's difficulties, and not only leaving his handsome livery in a sorry plight, but his valuable carcase also, and but for his previous potations and the encouraging effects of the uisgebea within him, he would several times have lain down till morning where he fell. Another inducement which cheered him in his perilous and difficult progress, was that Munro intimated that the nearest habitation to them was Mr. McKay's, where the pleasure of seeing Mary Grant and enjoying a jolly evening in her charming company would be a balm to Mr. Brown's present feelings and distresses, and fully compensate for the difficulties encountered in their rough journey.

What surprised the valet more than anything else, was that Munro never met with a single fall, and appeared to travel as steady as in daylight on the king's highway. He therefore concluded that Highlanders could see in the dark like cats or dogs.

On their route (which was a short cut) lay a peat moss where turf was being procured, and unluckily they came across a long but narrow pit, brimfull of water, which stretched across their path. Munro intimated that its breadth was but trifling, and took a short running leap, clearing it at a bound, invited Brown to follow his example. Whether the valet's visionary organs were at fault, or whether he was unable to accomplish the feat, we cannot say, but on taking the leap he fell short a foot and disappeared like a solan goose when diving for fish in the sea. Munro, however, notwithstanding his immoderate fit of merriment, caught the immersed Brown by the hair, and dragged him on terra firma, where he stood trembling, jumping and gasping, doubting his own existence.

Mr. McKay's house was at length gained, and Munro conducted his dripping companion to one of the servant's rooms, where he furnished him with a hot cup of toddy and a suit of Highland garb as a change for his wet livery, and which the piper declared would make a complete conquest on the heart of Mary Grant, who was very partial to the costume. This fact the duped valet had evidence of before, and the effects of the last tumbler, which had already the effect of softening his heart towards the fair sex in general, and Mary Grant in particular, he subjected himself to the ordeal of being kilted and sporraned by the able hands of Munro; they then adjourned to the servants' hall, where the occupants were ready to receive them to join in a merry reel.

The entrance of Brown, and the ridiculous figure he made in his novel garb, caused a taxation on their gravity which they were hardly able to hide. The unfitting costume, which was apparently made for a far stouter person, hung round his spare frame in a most clumsy manner, reminding them of a fuathaiche (a cross-stick, with old clothes on) placed in a field to scare crows. The hose were folded round his spare shanks, and strapped round with the garters as if bandaged by a surgeon after sustaining a fracture.

Brown advanced towards Mary Grant grinning, with his still painted countenance, notwithstanding his sousing, and in a theatrical attitude and low bow, engaged her for a reel, thinking himself quite proficient, after the young smuggler's tuition.

The company's merriment now received an addition through the pranks of a young herd boy, who stuck, unperceived, a bladder full of wind on the valet's back when dancing, and which kept continually bobbing at every movement.

Brown's idea of Highland-fling was to cross his legs as often as possible and wheel suddenly round. On one of these occasions he had unfortunately crossed them too far, when they did not obey quick enough to time, and his equilibrium being at fault after the toddy, he came down on the broad of his back on the hard flags, bursting the bladder under him, causing a terrific explosion, which shook the very building, followed by his roaring, "'Am shot! 'am shot!" which was as loud as the concussion. On being once more placed on his feet, and convinced that a mine had not sprung under him, his agitation was subdued by the party forming themselves into a half-circle round the fire to finish their evening amusement by singing, Donald Munro at the same time bringing to light a couple of bottles of whiskey, which he had carried from the brews, and which never tasted water. These were converted into strong hot toddy, in a large jug, which went rapidly round, the singers moistening their musical organs, and which diffused lively sensations through their frames. The effect on Mr. Brown was apparent by his gallant attentions to the female portion of the company, more especially Mary Grant, who already manifested extraordinary symptoms of the cure of her love for the Englishman, through the efficacy of Munro's dose. However, to make it more complete, the piper hinted to her that she was not to spurn the valet's advances this evening, in order to carry on the sport. Thus Mary Grant was obliged to succumb, and bear more of the Englishman's now unwelcome attentions.

There was another female among Mr. McKay's domestics who, however, cordially accepted Mr. Brown's gallantry and advances. This was an old maid of some sixty years, of very eccentric notions and disposition. Her name was Mary, also; and to distinguish her from Mary Grant, she was generally called Mary Mhor, or Big Mary—although there was not much difference between them in stature—while the latter was called Mary Veg, or Little Mary.

Mary Mhor still held many youthful and romantic ideas, which had rather increased than diminished with her years, and felt greatly annoyed at attention being paid, in her presence, to young girls by the men. Thus, on seeing the valet's addresses to Mary Veg, her jealousy became almost uncontrollable, and brought to bear all her youthful fascinations (which, according to accounts, she had been gifted with a great share of) to charm the English stranger. A hint to Brown from Mary Veg helped to facilitate this wish, and the valet's sight being not of the clearest after the toddy, had not noticed Mary Mhor's wrinkles or defects, and also under the impression that the old maid had some influence over the young one, or may be an aunt, he resolved on gaining her good-will by paying great attention to her. If Brown, however, had his optics as clear as usual, and in daylight, we question whether his gallantry towards Mary Mhor would be carried on with the same zeal.

Her occupation in Mr. McKay's establishment was that of spinning, and her constant vicinity to, the heat of the fire dried up her skin (for flesh she had none) into innumerable wrinkles. The toothache had made also a sad havoc among her teeth, leaving but four solitary tusks to tell the woeful tale. Her hair which was once fair, now turned into dirty grey, but was carefully concealed by a close cap and false brown dosan or front locks. She was passionately fond of a strong cup of tea, and people whispered that she would not refuse a tumbler of toddy.

It was between this person and Mary Grant that Brown had taken his seat in the singing circle, with an arm round the waist of each, and as the songs and toddy went round, the valet's squeezes or hugs became more often and affectionate, but unfortunately not very clear on which side of him the younger or the elder Mary sat; thus conferring the caresses and whispers which he intended for Mary Veg on Mary Mhor.

Matters went on in this way for some time, until the lights were getting low, and the servants had slipped away one by one to bed, until the whole, with the exception of the comfortable trio, and Munro, were left in their glory.

Another break-up was also made by Mary Grant, who slipped cautiously away on the plea of replenishing the sinking light; but, instead of doing so, she unluckily extinguished it altogether.

Brown made a sad mistake at this time, being under the impression that the elder Mary was the person who got up, and had put out the light (as he hinted to her) in order to give him an opportunity. He therefore turned all his attention and affection on Mary Grant (as he supposed), drawing her yielding form towards him, and returning his embraces, throwing her arms round his neck.

Mr. Brown was now in the height of happiness; gave vent to an eloquent burst of love for his admired Mary, who acknowledged his vehemence by an affectionate squeeze, and some indistinct whispers in Gaelic, which he called posers. Old Mary, with the effects of toddy and love for the handsome Englishman, imagined her youthful days had returned, and was now in the height of happiness, although unable to understand a single word of the passionate whispers uttered in her ear. The word poser, however, was quiet sufficient, as she thought it related to marriage or posadh; and hearing it several times mentioned by Brown, she had no doubt but he was proposing to her, when she answered suddenly, "Posaidh smi phosus du" (Marry, of course I'll marry you).

Donald Munro and Mary Grant, who were quietly listening to this amusing dialect behind them, could hardly contain their merriment, until at last Morpheus closed the scene, and the latter couple withdrew from the room, to chat over their own love, and make up for lost time. Mary confessed her own foolishness in ever thinking of Brown, or listening to his nonsense, and vowed never more to be carried away by the flattery or gaudy dress of an English flunkey.

Daylight soon warned Donald that it was time to leave, but this time with a double kiss at parting, as a guarantee for future constancy.

It was the custom of Bella M'Kay to rise early in the morning, and take a walk, attended by her maid. The latter now, on Donald's departure, went up to her young mistress' room, and found her already dressed.

Passing the servants' hall on their way out, Mary begged of her mistress to enter it for a few seconds, and that she would behold there a picture which she never before saw rivalled. Conscious that none of the servants were up at that early hour, Bella consented to be led by Mary, curious to see the strange picture; and sure enough there it sat before her, and only for the duet of snoring which issued from the group, she would hardly have believed her eyes.

John Brown, in his misfitting Highland garb, and still carrying strong impressions of the young smuggler's handiwork on his countenance, holding the sunken-eyed and shrivelled form of Mary Mhor in his arms, her skinny, yellow hands affectionately wound round his neck, with her hollow cheek supporting his, and their heads leaning back on their chairs, Mary's toothless gums wide apart; keeping up a chorus of snoring which almost drew the coals from the fire. Bella could no longer gaze on this singular picture, then made her exit to give vent to her merriment, on seeing which, Mary gave vent to hers, being unable to control it any longer, and which awoke Brown.

The first object which caught his eyes was the merry countenance of Mary Grant, whom he imagined in his arms, when he turned round his astonished gaze on the form which hung so affectionately in his embrace. What was his horror on beholding, instead of Mary Grant's black ringlets, old Mary's short grey locks, which were now exposed, her cap and false locks being displaced by his own caresses, and hanging at the back of her head.

He sprung to his feet in a fit of rage and disappointment, pitching Mary Mhor on the floor, when she gave vent to yells and shrieks, which soon brought one of the servant men to the scene of disaster, and who soon explained the matter.

This man was also an admirer of Mary Grant's, although a discarded lover, and an inveterate rival of his more successful one, Donald Munro.

Having conducted the enraged Brown to his own room, where he returned him his torn livery, and supplied him with water and towel, and also some information which was not very favourable to Donald Munro.

On looking in the glass, and beholding his own painted countenance, Brown's rage know no bounds, vowing future revenge against the piper, and which were greatly aggravated by the servant's information.