<h3>CHAPTER X</h3>
<h5>PASSAGES AT NEW YORK</h5>
<p class="noind"><span class="sc">I have</span> mentioned I was resolved to steal a march upon
the Master; and this, with the complicity of Captain
M’Murtrie, was mighty easily effected: a boat being
partly loaded on the one side of our ship, and the Master
placed on board of it, the while a skiff put off from the
other, carrying me alone. I had no more trouble in finding
a direction to my lord’s house, whither I went at top speed,
and which I found to be on the outskirts of the place, a
very suitable mansion, in a fine garden, with an extraordinary
large barn, byre, and stable, all in one. It was
here my lord was walking when I arrived; indeed, it had
become his chief place of frequentation, and his mind was
now filled with farming. I burst in upon him breathless,
and gave him my news: which was indeed no news at all,
several ships having outsailed the <i>Nonesuch</i> in the interval.</p>
<p>“We have been expecting you long,” said my lord;
“and indeed, of late days, ceased to expect you any more.
I am glad to take your hand again, Mackellar. I thought
you had been at the bottom of the sea.”</p>
<p>“Ah! my lord, would God I had!” cried I. “Things
would have been better for yourself.”</p>
<p>“Not in the least,” says he grimly. “I could not ask
better. There is a long score to pay, and now—at last—I
can begin to pay it.”</p>
<p>I cried out against his security.</p>
<p>“O!” says he, “this is not Durrisdeer, and I have
taken my precautions. His reputation awaits him; I have
prepared a welcome for my brother. Indeed, fortune has
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page195"></SPAN>195</span>
served me; for I found here a merchant of Albany who
knew him after the ’Forty-five, and had mighty convenient
suspicions of a murder: some one of the name of Chew
it was, another Albanian. No one here will be surprised
if I deny him my door; he will not be suffered to address
my children, nor even to salute my wife: as for myself,
I make so much exception for a brother that he may speak
to me. I should lose my pleasure else,” says my lord,
rubbing his palms.</p>
<p>Presently he bethought himself, and set men off running,
with billets, to summon the magnates of the province. I
cannot recall what pretext he employed; at least, it was
successful; and when our ancient enemy appeared upon
the scene, he found my lord pacing in front of his house
under some trees of shade, with the Governor upon one
hand and various notables upon the other. My lady, who
was seated in the verandah, rose with a very pinched expression
and carried her children into the house.</p>
<p>The Master, well dressed, and with an elegant walking-sword,
bowed to the company in a handsome manner and
nodded to my lord with familiarity. My lord did not
accept the salutation, but looked upon his brother with
bended brows.</p>
<p>“Well, sir,” says he at last, “what ill wind brings you
hither of all places, where (to our common disgrace) your
reputation has preceded you?”</p>
<p>“Your lordship is pleased to be civil,” cries the Master,
with a fine start.</p>
<p>“I am pleased to be very plain,” returned my lord;
“because it is needful you should clearly understand your
situation. At home; where you were so little known, it
was still possible to keep appearances; that would be
quite vain in this province; and I have to tell you that I
am quite resolved to wash my hands of you. You have
already ruined me almost to the door, as you ruined my
father before me;—whose heart you also broke. Your
crimes escape the law; but my friend the Governor has
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page196"></SPAN>196</span>
promised protection to my family. Have a care, sir!”
cries my lord, shaking his cane at him: “if you are observed
to utter two words to any of my innocent household, the
law shall be stretched to make you smart for it.”</p>
<p>“Ah!” says the Master, very slowly. “And so this
is the advantage of a foreign land! These gentlemen are
unacquainted with our story, I perceive. They do not
know that I am the true Lord Durrisdeer; they do not
know you are my younger brother, sitting in my place
under a sworn family compact; they do not know (or they
would not be seen with you in familiar correspondence)
that every acre is mine before God Almighty—and every
doit of the money you withhold from me, you do it as a
thief, a perjurer, and a disloyal brother!”</p>
<p>“General Clinton,” I cried, “do not listen to his lies.
I am the steward of the estate, and there is not one word
of truth in it. The man is a forfeited rebel turned into a
hired spy: there is his story in two words.”</p>
<p>It was thus (in the heat of the moment) I let slip his
infamy.</p>
<p>“Fellow,” said the Governor, turning his face sternly
on the Master, “I know more of you than you think for.
We have some broken ends of your adventures in the
provinces, which you will do very well not to drive me to
investigate. There is the disappearance of Mr. Jacob
Chew with all his merchandise; there is the matter of where
you came ashore from with so much money and jewels,
when you were picked up by a Bermudan out of Albany.
Believe me, if I let these matters lie, it is in commiseration
for your family, and out of respect for my valued friend,
Lord Durrisdeer.”</p>
<p>There was a murmur of applause from the provincials.</p>
<p>“I should have remembered how a title would shine
out in such a hole as this,” says the Master, white as a
sheet: “no matter how unjustly come by. It remains
for me, then, to die at my lord’s door, where my dead
body will form a very cheerful ornament.”
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page197"></SPAN>197</span></p>
<p>“Away with your affectations!” cries my lord.
“You know very well I have no such meaning; only to
protect myself from calumny, and my home from your
intrusion. I offer you a choice. Either I shall pay your
passage home on the first ship, when you may perhaps be
able to resume your occupations under Government,
although God knows I would rather see you on the highway!
Or, if that likes you not, stay here and welcome!
I have inquired the least sum on which body and soul can
be decently kept together in New York; so much you
shall have, paid weekly; and if you cannot labour with
your hands to better it, high time you should betake
yourself to learn. The condition is—that you speak with
no member of my family except myself,” he added.</p>
<p>I do not think I have ever seen any man so pale as was
the Master; but he was erect and his mouth firm.</p>
<p>“I have been met here with some very unmerited
insults,” said he, “from which I have certainly no idea
to take refuge by flight. Give me your pittance; I take
it without shame, for it is mine already—like the shirt upon
your back; and I choose to stay until these gentlemen
shall understand me better. Already they must spy the
cloven hoof, since with all your pretended eagerness for
the family honour, you take a pleasure to degrade it in
my person.”</p>
<p>“This is all very fine,” says my lord; “but to us who
know you of old, you must be sure it signifies nothing.
You take that alternative out of which you think that you
can make the most. Take it, if you can, in silence; it will
serve you better in the long-run, you may believe me, than
this ostentation of ingratitude.”</p>
<p>“O, gratitude, my lord!” cries the Master, with a
mounting intonation, and his forefinger very conspicuously
lifted up. “Be at rest: it will not fail you. It now
remains that I should salute these gentlemen whom we
have wearied with our family affairs.”</p>
<p>And he bowed to each in succession, settled his walking-sword,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page198"></SPAN>198</span>
and took himself off, leaving every one amazed at
his behaviour, and me not less so at my lord’s.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>We were now to enter on a changed phase of this family
division. The Master was by no manner of means so
helpless as my lord supposed, having at his hand, and
entirely devoted to his service, an excellent artist in all
sorts of goldsmith work. With my lord’s allowance,
which was not so scanty as he had described it, the pair
could support life; and all the earnings of Secundra Dass
might be laid upon one side for any future purpose. That
this was done, I have no doubt. It was in all likelihood
the Master’s design to gather a sufficiency, and then proceed
in quest of that treasure which he had buried long
before among the mountains; to which, if he had confined
himself, he would have been more happily inspired. But
unfortunately for himself and all of us, he took counsel of
his anger. The public disgrace of his arrival—which I
sometimes wonder he could manage to survive—rankled
in his bones; he was in that humour when a man—in the
words of the old adage—will cut off his nose to spite his
face; and he must make himself a public spectacle in the
hopes that some of the disgrace might spatter on my
lord.</p>
<p>He chose, in a poor quarter of the town, a lonely, small
house of boards, overhung with some acacias. It was
furnished in front with a sort of hutch opening, like that
of a dog’s kennel, but about as high as a table from the
ground, in which the poor man that built it had formerly
displayed some wares; and it was this which took the
Master’s fancy, and possibly suggested his proceedings. It
appears, on board the pirate ship he had acquired some
quickness with the needle—enough, at least, to play the
part of tailor in the public eye, which was all that was
required by the nature of his vengeance. A placard was
hung above the hutch, bearing these words in something
of the following disposition:
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page199"></SPAN>199</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p class="center">JAMES DURIE,<br/>
<span class="scs">formerly</span> MASTER <span class="scs">of</span> BALLANTRAE.<br/>
CLOTHES NEATLY CLOUTED.</p>
<hr class="short" />
<p class="center">SECUNDRA DASS,<br/>
DECAYED GENTLEMAN OF INDIA.<br/>
<span class="scs"> fine goldsmith work.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Underneath this, when he had a job, my gentleman sat
withinside tailor-wise and busily stitching. I say, when
he had a job; but such customers as came were rather for
Secundra, and the Master’s sewing would be more in the
manner of Penelope’s. He could never have designed to
gain even butter to his bread by such a means of livelihood:
enough for him that there was the name of Durie dragged
in the dirt on the placard, and the sometime heir of that
proud family set up cross-legged in public for a reproach
upon his brother’s meanness. And in so far his device
succeeded that there was murmuring in the town and a
party formed highly inimical to my lord. My lord’s favour
with the Governor laid him more open on the other side;
my lady (who was never so well received in the colony)
met with painful innuendoes; in a party of women, where
it would be the topic most natural to introduce, she was
almost debarred from the naming of needle-work; and I
have seen her return with a flushed countenance, and vow
that she would go abroad no more.</p>
<p>In the meanwhile my lord dwelled in his decent mansion,
immersed in farming; a popular man with his intimates,
and careless or unconscious of the rest. He laid on flesh;
had a bright, busy face; even the heat seemed to prosper
with him; and my lady—in despite of her own annoyances—daily
blessed Heaven her father should have left her such
a paradise. She had looked on from a window upon the
Master’s humiliation; and from that hour appeared to feel
at ease. I was not so sure myself; as time went on, there
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page200"></SPAN>200</span>
seemed to me a something not quite wholesome in my lord’s
condition. Happy he was, beyond a doubt, but the grounds
of this felicity were secret; even in the bosom of his family
he brooded with manifest delight upon some private thought;
and I conceived at last the suspicion (quite unworthy of
us both) that he kept a mistress somewhere in the town.
Yet he went little abroad, and his day was very fully
occupied; indeed, there was but a single period, and that
pretty early in the morning, while Mr. Alexander was at
his lesson-book, of which I was not certain of the disposition.
It should be borne in mind, in the defence of that which
I now did, that I was always in some fear my lord was not
quite justly in his reason; and with our enemy sitting so
still in the same town with us, I did well to be upon my
guard. Accordingly I made a pretext, had the hour
changed at which I taught Mr. Alexander the foundation
of ciphering and the mathematic, and set myself instead
to dog my master’s footsteps.</p>
<p>Every morning, fair or foul, he took his gold-headed
cane, set his hat on the back of his head—a recent habitude,
which I thought to indicate a burning brow—and betook
himself to make a certain circuit. At the first his way was
among pleasant trees and beside a graveyard, where he
would sit a while, if the day were fine, in meditation.
Presently the path turned down to the water-side, and
came back along the harbour-front and past the Master’s
booth. As he approached this second part of his circuit, my
Lord Durrisdeer began to pace more leisurely, like a man
delighted with the air and scene; and before the booth,
half-way between that and the water’s edge, would pause
a little, leaning on his staff. It was the hour when the
Master sate within upon his board and plied his needle.
So these two brothers would gaze upon each other with
hard faces; and then my lord move on again, smiling
to himself.</p>
<p>It was but twice that I must stoop to that ungrateful
necessity of playing spy. I was then certain of my lord’s
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page201"></SPAN>201</span>
purpose in his rambles and of the secret source of his
delight. Here was his mistress: it was hatred and not
love that gave him healthful colours. Some moralists
might have been relieved by the discovery; I confess that
I was dismayed. I found this situation of two brethren
not only odious in itself, but big with possibilities of further
evil; and I made it my practice, in so far as many occupations
would allow, to go by a shorter path and be secretly
present at their meeting. Coming down one day a little
late, after I had been near a week prevented, I was struck
with surprise to find a new development. I should say
there was a bench against the Master’s house, where
customers might sit to parley with the shopman; and here
I found my lord seated, nursing his cane and looking pleasantly
forth upon the bay. Not three feet from him sate
the Master, stitching. Neither spoke; nor (in this new
situation) did my lord so much as cast a glance at his
enemy. He tasted his neighbourhood, I must suppose,
less indirectly in the bare proximity of person; and,
without doubt, drank deep of hateful pleasures.</p>
<p>He had no sooner come away than I openly joined
him.</p>
<p>“My lord, my lord,” said I, “this is no manner of
behaviour.”</p>
<p>“I grow fat upon it,” he replied: and not merely the
words, which were strange enough, but the whole character
of his expression, shocked me.</p>
<p>“I warn you, my lord, against this indulgency of evil
feeling,” said I. “I know not to which it is more perilous,
the soul or the reason; but you go the way to murder
both.”</p>
<p>“You cannot understand,” said he. “You had never
such mountains of bitterness upon your heart.”</p>
<p>“And if it were no more,” I added, “you will surely
goad the man to some extremity.”</p>
<p>“To the contrary; I am breaking his spirit,” says
my lord.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page202"></SPAN>202</span></p>
<p>Every morning for hard upon a week my lord took his
same place upon the bench. It was a pleasant place, under
the green acacias, with a sight upon the bay and shipping,
and a sound (from some way off) of mariners singing at
their employ. Here the two sate without speech or any
external movement, beyond that of the needle, or the
Master biting off a thread, for he still clung to his pretence
of industry; and here I made a point to join them, wondering
at myself and my companions. If any of my lord’s
friends went by, he would hail them cheerfully, and cry
out he was there to give some good advice to his brother,
who was now (to his delight) grown quite industrious.
And even this the Master accepted with a steady countenance;
what was in his mind, God knows, or perhaps
Satan only.</p>
<p>All of a sudden, on a still day of what they call the
Indian Summer, when the woods were changed into gold
and pink and scarlet, the Master laid down his needle and
burst into a fit of merriment. I think he must have been
preparing it a long while in silence, for the note in itself
was pretty naturally pitched; but breaking suddenly from
so extreme a silence, and in circumstances so averse from
mirth, it sounded ominously on my ear.</p>
<p>“Henry,” said he, “I have for once made a false step,
and for once you have had the wit to profit by it. The
farce of the cobbler ends to-day; and I confess to you
(with my compliments) that you have had the best of it.
Blood will out; and you have certainly a choice idea of
how to make yourself unpleasant.”</p>
<p>Never a word said my lord; it was just as though the
Master had not broken silence.</p>
<p>“Come,” resumed the Master, “do not be sulky; it
will spoil your attitude. You can now afford (believe me)
to be a little gracious; for I have not merely a defeat to
accept. I had meant to continue this performance till I
had gathered enough money for a certain purpose; I
confess ingenuously I have not the courage. You naturally
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page203"></SPAN>203</span>
desire my absence from this town; I have come round by
another way to the same idea. And I have a proposition
to make; or, if your lordship prefers, a favour to
ask.”</p>
<p>“Ask it,” says my lord.</p>
<p>“You may have heard that I had once in this country
a considerable treasure,” returned the Master; “it matters
not whether or no—such is the fact; and I was obliged to
bury it in a spot of which I have sufficient indications.
To the recovery of this has my ambition now come down;
and, as it is my own, you will not grudge it me.”</p>
<p>“Go and get it,” says my lord. “I shall make no
opposition.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the Master; “but to do so I must find
men and carriage. The way is long and rough, and the
country infested with wild Indians. Advance me only so
much as shall be needful: either as a lump sum, in lieu of
my allowance; or, if you prefer it, as a loan, which I
shall repay on my return. And then, if you so decide,
you may have seen the last of me.”</p>
<p>My lord stared him steadily in the eyes; there was a
hard smile upon his face, but he uttered nothing.</p>
<p>“Henry,” said the Master, with a formidable quietness,
and drawing at the same time somewhat back—“Henry,
I had the honour to address you.”</p>
<p>“Let us be stepping homeward,” says my lord to me,
who was plucking at his sleeve; and with that he rose,
stretched himself, settled his hat, and, still without a
syllable of response, began to walk steadily along the
shore.</p>
<p>I hesitated a while between the two brothers, so serious
a climax did we seem to have reached. But the Master
had resumed his occupation, his eyes lowered, his hand
seemingly as deft as ever; and I decided to pursue my
lord.</p>
<p>“Are you mad?” I cried, so soon as I had overtook
him. “Would you cast away so fair an opportunity?”
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page204"></SPAN>204</span></p>
<p>“Is it possible you should still believe in him?” inquired
my lord, almost with a sneer.</p>
<p>“I wish him forth of this town!” I cried. “I wish
him anywhere and anyhow but as he is.”</p>
<p>“I have said my say,” returned my lord, “and you
have said yours. There let it rest.”</p>
<p>But I was bent on dislodging the Master. That sight
of him patiently returning to his needlework was more
than my imagination could digest. There was never a man
made, and the Master the least of any, that could accept
so long a series of insults. The air smelt blood to me.
And I vowed there should be no neglect of mine if, through
any chink of possibility, crime could be yet turned aside.
That same day, therefore, I came to my lord in his business
room, where he sat upon some trivial occupation.</p>
<p>“My lord,” said I, “I have found a suitable investment
for my small economies. But these are unhappily in
Scotland; it will take some time to lift them, and the
affair presses. Could your lordship see his way to advance
me the amount against my note?”</p>
<p>He read me a while with keen eyes. “I have never
inquired into the state of your affairs, Mackellar,” says he.
“Beyond the amount of your caution, you may not be
worth a farthing, for what I know.”</p>
<p>“I have been a long while in your service, and never
told a lie, nor yet asked a favour for myself,” said I,
“until to-day.”</p>
<p>“A favour for the Master,” he returned quietly. “Do
you take me for a fool, Mackellar? Understand it once
and for all, I treat this beast in my own way; fear nor
favour shall not move me; and before I am hoodwinked,
it will require a trickster less transparent than yourself.
I ask service, loyal service; not that you should make
and mar behind my back, and steal my own money to
defeat me.”</p>
<p>“My lord,” said I, “these are very unpardonable
expressions.”
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page205"></SPAN>205</span></p>
<p>“Think once more, Mackellar,” he replied; “and you
will see they fit the fact. It is your own subterfuge that
is unpardonable. Deny (if you can) that you designed
this money to evade my orders with, and I will ask your
pardon freely. If you cannot, you must have the resolution
to hear your conduct go by its own name.”</p>
<p>“If you think I had any design but to save you——”
I began.</p>
<p>“O! my old friend,” said he, “you know very well
what I think! Here is my hand to you with all my heart;
but of money, not one rap.”</p>
<p>Defeated upon this side, I went straight to my room,
wrote a letter, ran with it to the harbour, for I knew a
ship was on the point of sailing; and came to the Master’s
door a little before dusk. Entering without the form of any
knock, I found him sitting with his Indian at a simple meal
of maize porridge with some milk. The house within was
clean and poor; only a few books upon a shelf distinguished
it, and (in one corner) Secundra’s little bench.</p>
<p>“Mr. Bally,” said I, “I have near five hundred pounds
laid by in Scotland, the economies of a hard life. A letter
goes by yon ship to have it lifted. Have so much patience
till the return ship comes in, and it is all yours, upon the
same condition you offered to my lord this morning.”</p>
<p>He rose from the table, came forward, took me by the
shoulders, and looked me in the face, smiling.</p>
<p>“And yet you are very fond of money!” said he.
“And yet you love money beyond all things else, except
my brother!”</p>
<p>“I fear old age and poverty,” said I, “which is another
matter.”</p>
<p>“I will never quarrel for a name. Call it so,” he
replied.—“Ah! Mackellar, Mackellar, if this were done
from any love to me, how gladly would I close upon your
offer!”</p>
<p>“And yet,” I eagerly answered—“I say it to my
shame, but I cannot see you in this poor place without
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page206"></SPAN>206</span>
compunction. It is not my single thought, nor my first;
and yet it’s there! I would gladly see you delivered.
I do not offer it in love, and far from that; but, as God
judges me—and I wonder at it too!—quite without
enmity.”</p>
<p>“Ah!” says he, still holding my shoulders, and now
gently shaking me, “you think of me more than you
suppose. ‘And I wonder at it too,’” he added, repeating
my expression and, I suppose, something of my voice.
“You are an honest man, and for that cause I spare you.”</p>
<p>“Spare me?” I cried.</p>
<p>“Spare you,” he repeated, letting me go and turning
away. And then, fronting me once more: “You little
know what I would do with it, Mackellar! Did you think
I had swallowed my defeat indeed? Listen: my life has
been a series of unmerited cast-backs. That fool, Prince
Charlie, mismanaged a most promising affair: there fell
my first fortune. In Paris I had my foot once more high
up on the ladder: that time it was an accident; a letter
came to the wrong hand, and I was bare again. A third
time I found my opportunity; I built up a place for myself
in India with an infinite patience; and then Clive came,
my rajah was swallowed up, and I escaped out of the convulsion,
like another Æneas, with Secundra Dass upon my
back. Three times I have had my hand upon the highest
station: and I am not yet three-and-forty. I know the
world as few men know it when they come to die—Court
and camp, the East and the West; I know where to go,
I see a thousand openings. I am now at the height of my
resources, sound of health, of inordinate ambition. Well,
all this I resign; I care not if I die, and the world never
hear of me; I care only for one thing, and that I will have.
Mind yourself; lest, when the roof falls, you, too, should
be crushed under the ruins.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As I came out of his house, all hope of intervention
quite destroyed, I was aware of a stir on the harbour-side,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page207"></SPAN>207</span>
and, raising my eyes, there was a great ship newly come
to anchor. It seems strange I could have looked upon her
with so much indifference, for she brought death to the
brothers of Durrisdeer. After all the desperate episodes
of this contention, the insults, the opposing interests, the
fraternal duel in the shrubbery, it was reserved for some
poor devil in Grub Street, scribbling for his dinner, and
not caring what he scribbled, to cast a spell across four
thousand miles of the salt sea, and send forth both these
brothers into savage and wintry deserts, there to die.
But such a thought was distant from my mind; and while
all the provincials were fluttered about me by the unusual
animation of their port, I passed throughout their midst
on my return homeward, quite absorbed in the recollection
of my visit and the Master’s speech.</p>
<p>The same night there was brought to us from the ship
a little packet of pamphlets. The next day my lord was
under engagement to go with the Governor upon some
party of pleasure; the time was nearly due, and I left him
for a moment alone in his room and skimming through the
pamphlets. When I returned, his head had fallen upon
the table, his arms lying abroad amongst the crumpled
papers.</p>
<p>“My lord, my lord!” I cried as I ran forward, for I
supposed he was in some fit.</p>
<p>He sprang up like a figure upon wires, his countenance
deformed with fury, so that in a strange place I should
scarce have known him. His hand at the same time flew
above his head, as though to strike me down. “Leave
me alone!” he screeched, and I fled, as fast as my shaking
legs would bear me, for my lady. She, too, lost no time;
but when we returned, he had the door locked within, and
only cried to us from the other side to leave him be. We
looked in each other’s faces, very white—each supposing the
blow had come at last.</p>
<p>“I will write to the Governor to excuse him,” says she.
“We must keep our strong friends.” But when she took
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page208"></SPAN>208</span>
up the pen it flew out of her fingers. “I cannot write,”
said she. “Can you?”</p>
<p>“I will make a shift, my lady,” said I.</p>
<p>She looked over me as I wrote. “That will do,” she
said, when I had done. “Thank God, Mackellar, I have
you to lean upon! But what can it be now? What, what
can it be?”</p>
<p>In my own mind I believed there was no explanation
possible, and none required; it was my fear that the
man’s madness had now simply burst forth its way, like
the long-smothered flames of a volcano; but to this (in
mere mercy to my lady) I durst not give expression.</p>
<p>“It is more to the purpose to consider our own behaviour,”
said I. “Must we leave him there alone?”</p>
<p>“I do not dare disturb him,” she replied. “Nature
may know best; it may be Nature that cries to be alone;
and we grope in the dark. O yes, I would leave him as
he is.”</p>
<p>“I will, then, despatch this letter, my lady, and return
here, if you please, to sit with you,” said I.</p>
<p>“Pray do,” cries my lady.</p>
<p>All afternoon we sat together, mostly in silence, watching
my lord’s door. My own mind was busy with the
scene that had just passed, and its singular resemblance
to my vision. I must say a word upon this, for the story
has gone abroad with great exaggeration, and I have even
seen it printed, and my own name referred to for particulars.
So much was the same: here was my lord in a room, with
his head upon the table, and when he raised his face, it
wore such an expression as distressed me to the soul. But
the room was different, my lord’s attitude at the table
not at all the same, and his face, when he disclosed it,
expressed a painful degree of fury instead of that haunting
despair which had always (except once, already referred
to) characterised it in the vision. There is the whole
truth at last before the public; and if the differences be
great, the coincidence was yet enough to fill me with
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page209"></SPAN>209</span>
uneasiness. All afternoon, as I say, I sat and pondered
upon this quite to myself; for my lady had trouble of her
own, and it was my last thought to vex her with fancies.
About the midst of our time of waiting, she conceived an
ingenious scheme, had Mr. Alexander fetched, and bid
him knock at his father’s door. My lord sent the boy
about his business, but without the least violence, whether
of manner or expression; so that I began to entertain a
hope the fit was over.</p>
<p>At last, as the night fell and I was lighting a lamp that
stood there trimmed, the door opened and my lord stood
within upon the threshold. The light was not so strong
that we could read his countenance; when he spoke,
methought his voice a little altered, but yet perfectly
steady.</p>
<p>“Mackellar,” said he, “carry this note to its destination
with your own hand. It is highly private. Find the
person alone when you deliver it.”</p>
<p>“Henry,” says my lady, “you are not ill?”</p>
<p>“No, no,” says he querulously, “I am occupied. Not
at all; I am only occupied. It is a singular thing a man
must be supposed to be ill when he has any business!
Send me supper to this room, and a basket of wine: I
expect the visit of a friend. Otherwise I am not to be
disturbed.”</p>
<p>And with that he once more shut himself in.</p>
<p>The note was addressed to one Captain Harris, at a
tavern on the port-side. I knew Harris (by reputation)
for a dangerous adventurer, highly suspected of piracy
in the past, and now following the rude business of an
Indian trader. What my lord should have to say to him,
or he to my lord, it passed my imagination to conceive:
or yet how my lord had heard of him, unless by a disgraceful
trial from which the man was recently escaped. Altogether
I went upon the errand with reluctance, and from the little
I saw of the captain, returned from it with sorrow. I found
him in a foul-smelling chamber, sitting by a guttering
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page210"></SPAN>210</span>
candle and an empty bottle; he had the remains of a
military carriage, or rather perhaps it was an affectation,
for his manners were low.</p>
<p>“Tell my lord, with my service, that I will wait upon
his lordship in the inside of half an hour,” says he when
he had read the note; and then had the servility, pointing
to his empty bottle, to propose that I should buy him
liquor.</p>
<p>Although I returned with my best speed, the captain
followed close upon my heels, and he stayed late into the
night. The cock was crowing a second time when I saw
(from my chamber window) my lord lighting him to the
gate, both men very much affected with their potations,
and sometimes leaning one upon the other to confabulate.
Yet the next morning my lord was abroad again early with
a hundred pounds of money in his pocket. I never supposed
that he returned with it; and yet I was quite sure it did
not find its way to the Master, for I lingered all morning
within view of the booth. That was the last time my Lord
Durrisdeer passed his own enclosure till we left New York;
he walked in his barn, or sat and talked with his family, all
much as usual; but the town saw nothing of him, and
his daily visits to the Master seemed forgotten. Nor yet
did Harris reappear; or not until the end.</p>
<p>I was now much oppressed with a sense of the mysteries
in which we had begun to move. It was plain, if only
from his change of habitude, my lord had something on
his mind of a grave nature; but what it was, whence it
sprang, or why he should now keep the house and garden,
I could make no guess at. It was clear, even to probation,
the pamphlets had some share in this revolution; I read
all I could find, and they were all extremely insignificant,
and of the usual kind of party scurrility; even to a high
politician, I could spy out no particular matter of offence,
and my lord was a man rather indifferent on public questions.
The truth is, the pamphlet which was the spring
of this affair lay all the time on my lord’s bosom. There it
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page211"></SPAN>211</span>
was that I found it at last, after he was dead, in the midst
of the north wilderness: in such a place, in such dismal
circumstances, I was to read for the first time these idle,
lying words of a Whig pamphleteer declaiming against
indulgency to Jacobites:—“Another notorious Rebel, the
<i>M——r</i> of <i>B——e</i>, is to have his Title restored,” the passage
ran. “This Business has been long in hand, since he
rendered some very disgraceful Services in Scotland and
France. His Brother, <i>L——d</i> <i>D——r</i>, is known to be no
better than himself in Inclination; and the supposed Heir,
who is now to be set aside, was bred up in the most detestable
Principles. In the old Phrase, it is <i>six of the one and
half a dozen of the other</i>; but the Favour of such a Reposition
is too extreme to be passed over.” A man in his right
wits could not have cared two straws for a tale so manifestly
false; that Government should ever entertain the notion
was inconceivable to any reasoning creature, unless possibly
the fool that penned it; and my lord, though never brilliant,
was ever remarkable for sense. That he should credit such
a rodomontade, and carry the pamphlet on his bosom and
the words in his heart, is the clear proof of the man’s lunacy.
Doubtless the mere mention of Mr. Alexander, and the
threat directly held out against the child’s succession,
precipitated that which had so long impended. Or else
my master had been truly mad for a long time, and we were
too dull or too much used to him, and did not perceive the
extent of his infirmity.</p>
<p>About a week after the day of the pamphlets I was late
upon the harbour-side, and took a turn towards the Master’s,
as I often did. The door opened, a flood of light came
forth upon the road, and I beheld a man taking his departure
with friendly salutations. I cannot say how singularly I
was shaken to recognise the adventurer Harris. I could
not but conclude it was the hand of my lord that had brought
him there; and prolonged my walk in very serious and
apprehensive thought. It was late when I came home, and
there was my lord making up his portmanteau for a voyage.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page212"></SPAN>212</span></p>
<p>“Why do you come so late?” he cried. “We leave
to-morrow for Albany, you and I together; and it is high
time you were about your preparations.”</p>
<p>“For Albany, my lord?” I cried. “And for what
earthly purpose?”</p>
<p>“Change of scene,” said he.</p>
<p>And my lady, who appeared to have been weeping, gave
me the signal to obey without more parley. She told me
a little later (when we found occasion to exchange some
words) that he had suddenly announced his intention after
a visit from Captain Harris, and her best endeavours,
whether to dissuade him from the journey, or to elicit some
explanation of its purpose, had alike proved unavailing.</p>
<hr class="art" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page213"></SPAN>213</span></p>
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