Copyright Story. The Surrender of Lady Disdainful

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIII, Issue 6, 11 August 1909, Page 55

Copyright Story. The Surrender of Lady Disdainful

By

EDWIN LESTER ARNOLD

Author of •* Phra the Phoenician/* Etc.

✓'f'X EEP down in the stubborn heart ■ of Miss Jeannie MacDonald, t the heiress of as noble a stretch of purple Scotch heather and nut-brown salmon river as any one could wish to look upon, abided an over-whelming prido of race. The very College of Heralds turned pale at the length of her pedigree, mid-way down which, scoffers said, the incident of the flood had occurred, and Jeannie held her chin high and gloried in those serried ranks of progenitors! It is true the line began with a mythical hero of piratical habits whose misdeeds a hundred generations of bards had failed to soften, and it is not less true that those who followed were gentlemen whose profession was fire and sword, and whose sense of right and wrong was something more than capricious. But Jeannie, with a woman’s liberality overlooked all that. Was it likely, that charming lady argued, that she, the latest of all those MacDonalds, would consent to share with an outsider “A man of grey shirtings and brown sugar,” as she bitterly said, the splendid if unprofitable territory they had passed down to her from hand to hand through the centuries? In truth her friends wanted her to marry a gentleman from Chicago, and Mistress MacDonald’s russet curls were fiercely shaken, and the old red pirate blood sprang again into those dainty cheeks at the bare suggestion. Jeannie would not look at him! It did not matter that the match-makers called the merchant-princeling handsome, pleasant of speech, 'uncbntaminated by his geographical origin. It did not matter that the fine Sutherlandshire territory he had just bought overlapped her ladyship’s patrimony on nearly every side, shutting her acres off from sea and cities: she would not listen when her best friends whispered that he was captivated by her alone, and might be, if she were only willing, the golden solution of many difficulties, —-but, strong in her feudal pride that lady again shook her head aiTd would not even let them finish, calling the luckless stranger “A Son of the City of Pigs” with many hard things besides, and having declared her unaltered intention of avoiding him by all possible means—fate brought them together. It happened in this way. The bustle and glitter of the season was over, and Jeannie, with her attendant friends, had gone back to her stronghold, the infatuated but so far unsuccessful American also going north to the newer shooting lodge on her borders. Here the conspirators about them set kindly little traps for the lady of the heather and dangled the wooer from over the water many a time before her eyes ere chance came to their assistance in its own unaccountable fashion. A picnic had been arranged upon a rocky island half way across a neighbouring estuary of the sea. It was a wild, picturesque spot, a knoll in the expanse of waters far out of the ken of any dwelling on shore, with a few acres of ragged pine trees growing out of its deep heather, and the highest point crowned by the ruins of an ancient watch tower. A charming place in the daytime but singularly lonely when darkness came on, with a tradition of being haunted, moreover, and thither two boats were to rendezvous on the appointed day. One of these came from the MacDonalds’ side of the w’ater, with half a dozen of Jeannie’s friends and kinsmen, while the other arrived from the opposite! shore bringing a pleasant company, and amongst them young Mr. Jonathan Smith himself! It was no good to be angry or rude. Jeannie decided two things in her heart when the parties had met: firstly, that she would take ven-

geance on those whom she guessed had prepared this meeting, and secondly that Mr. Smith was more leharming mannered and better looking than she had ever thought him before! Then, having made these concessions to her feelings, she laid herself out to be pleasant, all things went delightfully, and picnic kettles w’ere boiled, the picnic wasps were duly killed on the outskirts of the cheery tart, and after a merry afternoon, just as the sun was going down in many coloured blazonry in the west, and the evening breeze began to creep in freshly from the Atlantic, the guests reassembled round the fire in the shadow of the ruined tower to drink their tea and say goodbye to each other. Here began the chapter of accidents which ended as all accidents should. There were amongst those who were going to the stranger’s side of the water some cousins of Jeannie’s, and these young women had been trying to persuade their kinswoman to accompany them, in order that she might attend on the morrow a Highland gathering near their house. But Jeannie refused, and so they had parted, the cousins and their party going off through the darkening pine woods to the one boat, while the heiress and her friends, with the gentleman from Chicago, stood talking for • space. Five minutes afterwards, behold, Jeannie had exercised the privilege of her sex! Yes, she suddenly declared she would change her mind and so to her cousins after all to see the Highland sports. A few words with her companions settled the matter. The friendlv dry-goods princeling was dispatched across the island to detain the cousins’ partv, while Miss McDonald went down to the near shore with her own friends, and saw them off. “Do not send the boat for me tomorrow unless I write for it,” she called to them. “I may be away a day or two—perhaps even more.” “Very well,” they cried back, while

the skiff pushed off. ' »Ve will not send until you write —be careful of the night air.” And as the boat pulled away and was quickly lost among the deepening shadows, the girl turned baek, and with a last wave of her hand, sauntered towards the heather-eoverfll crest of the island. She was well accustomed to being waited for, and did not hurry. On the top she stood for a moment and looked about with silent delight. Behind all was purple in the shadows of the hills, save where the easements of her own far-away castle caught the eastern blaze and shone in that dusky setting like points of living gold. And all in front the black sea stretched away to where in the west it seemed to beat in golden waves on the edge of another world—a world that rose sudden and splendent out of that sombre plain, a fairy region where pale sapphire estuaries ran deep into an amber-coloured land; and great limpid bights, whereon no ship had ever sailed, bore on their pellucid bosoms whole archipelagoes of rose-coloured islands; a mag’c sunset .realm that faded gently into pink and turquoise as you looked upon it, and broadened and deepened till al! the real world was but a dark framing through which one stared into the lurid splendour of that silent territory! Jeannie seemed as though she were some fair statue as she stood against the dark heather in the glow of that great western window, and it was only with an effort she brought herself back to prosaic things when presently the sun went down in earnest and the grey curtain of the night dropped slowly over land and sea. But at last she turned into the wooded path leading down to the far beach, and was stepping lightly over the fragrant carpet of pine needles under the firs, the air full of scent of juniper and resin, and the last red rays bringing the tree stems out golden against the shadows beyond, when she met Mr. Smith coming hurriedly up the path. This, the lady thought, was .to be regretted. She had liked him better than she had ever expected to do that day, and since she feared some keen eyes amongst the women might have guessed so much—she did not want solitary walks with him even of the most trifling extent — placed as they were people would talk if they were a moment alone together, and while this Was passing through her mind the gentleman from Chicago, looking very handsome and concerned, came up. “My dear Miss MacDonald,” he said, “I carried out your errand with the utmost despatch; but to my surprise and regret, when I got down to the beach —the boat had gone!” “Had what!” gasped Jeannie, scarcely realising his meaning for a moment.

“Veiy unfortunately, the boat had gone. They must have set sail at onee, and, with a fair wind, by this time may be nearly home. I shouted and waved, but the island is right in the eye of the sun, and the breeze was against roe —I fear,” he added, with courteous interest, “you will have to postpone your visit for a time—may I take you back to your own boat’” But her ladyship’s only answer was to lean back against a tree and stare witli incredulous horror at her companion. The boat gone! Why, her boat had gone, too; she was alone with this man she had shunned, the very man of all others she least desired’ to be alone with; and not alone for a moment, but for hours—for nights and days, indefinitely, perhaps, it seemed to her excited fancy, while their mutual friends pictured them each happily paying visits! It was too dreadful. Oh, what could hate mean by thus stranding her with him whom a month ago she hated; and for whom she was now beginning to feel an even more embarrassing tenderness, the very man of all others she had been setting herself to avoid? She fled like a startled deer back to the highest point of the island, Smith following her wonderingly; and there, when he guessed what had happened, and they saw the sea absolutely deserted and bare all about them, proud Jeannie sank down upon a rock in a storm of anger and tears, while her fellow prisoner shrugged his .shoulders as he slowly took in all the awkwardness of the situation. Her ladyship recovered presently, and turned on the luckless stranger with all the fury of a trapped wild cat in its native woods, said such cruel and reckless things that he who was in faet a very excellent and well-meaning young man, with nothing against him but the accident of birth, winced beneath them, wondering where so beautiful and slim a girl had learned the skill to hurt so much. At last she asked angrily, “Could he swim?” and when he answered that he could, “Why, then,” she said, “if he were half a man he would not stand silent and sag-headed before her, but would make, an effort—doing something to show Chicago could now and then breed a gentleman!” and with those words she flung away, while' he, half hurt and half admiring, walked down gloomily and despondent to the water’s edge. Yes! he thought -to " himscJT. there was nothing for it but to make the effort the girl had suggested. That day ■had put him deep in love, and there was nothing else to be done!—it was perhaps little better thansuicide, for he was but an ordinary swimmer, and the black water spread out wide and cold before him. Yet it was his bare duty,

ho said, as he took off his coal and ehoes, and mechanically removed the diamond sleeve-links from his cuffs, he could do her no good by staying—even harm, perhaps—while by going there ■was just a chance that he might get help for her. And so he went, and when Jeannie came down to where he had sat a few minutes later, to say soft things and prevent the folly her bitter words might tempt him to do, she found his coat upon a rock, and nothing else. An hour later, as, miserable and lonely, the lady of many manors was wandering about in the darkness, seeking for a corner in which to spend the night, the ■wind sighing through the trees, and the first few drops of a coming storm Deginning to fall, a light appeared on the path below. Who could be there at this time of night, when all decent folk •were safe in bed? Was it the ghost of the murdered old fisherman who haunted the island? Was it lawless smugglers or pirates? This was worse than ever, and the wretched girl was just turning to fly when rough but friendly voices hailed her, and with desperate courage—knowing, moreover, how futile hiding ■was —she waited, and presently recognised two fishermen, and heard, when they had drawn near, with a delight ■which may be imagined, that their boat was down below, and “the gentleman” in it, alive but spent. They had come across him by chance while taking in their long-lines, and had got Mr. Smith on board with scarce breath enough left in him to gasp out the story of the lady’s plight, and send them, rowing for •11 they were worth, to her rescue. “Dear Mr. Smith,”, were the first words that gentleman heard, as presently he came to, and found himself in the same boat with Jeannie, homeward bound, and his hands being diligently chafed by that charming nurse. “I am so sorry for what I said, so sorry you took it amiss, •nd went —but very glad, very glad, indeed, that you are safe, and have taken no hurt—if you had I should have been more grieved than I can say,” and here the girl dropped her voice and blushed unseen in the darkness. What else could that fortunate son of Chicago wish for? The inflection of her tone did him more good than all the warm blankets and cordials of the castle presently. They were the beginning of an end, which satisfied even the schemers whose plot had nearly turned out so disastrously, and later on united two broad territories, to their mutual advantage, under one happy rule!