White Heather: A Novel (Volume 3 of 3). William Black

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СКАЧАТЬ tell ye what, Mistress,' said the big skipper, who was contemplating with much satisfaction a large beaker of hot rum and water, 'the best thing you could do would be just to take the lad in hand, and marry him right off. He would have somebody to look after him, and so would you; as handsome a couple as ever stepped along Jamaica Street, I'll take my oath.'

      The buxom widow laughed and blushed; but she was bound to protest.

      'Na, na, Captain, I ken better than that. I'm no going to throw away a business like this on any man. I'll bide my ain mistress for a while longer, if ye please.'

      And then mother Paterson – who had a handy gift of facile acquiescence – struck in —

      'That's right, Katie dear! Ye're sich a wise woman. To think ye'd throw away a splendid place like this, and a splendid business, on any man, and make him maister! And how long would it be before he ate and drank ye out o' house and ha'? – set him up with a handsome wife and a splendid business thrown at his heed, and scarcely for the asking! Na, na, Katie, woman, ye ken your own affairs better than that; ye're no for any one to come in and be maister here.'

      'But I'm concerned about the lad,' said Kate Menzies, a little absently. 'He met wi' none but friends here. He might fa' into worse hands.'

      'Gang up yersel', Mistress, and hae a talk wi' him,' said the skipper boldly.

      Kate Menzies did not do that; but the same evening she wrote Ronald a brief note. And very well she could write too – in a dashing, free handwriting; and gilt-edged was the paper, and rose-pink was the envelope.

      'DEAR RONALD – Surely there is no quarrel between us. If I have offended you, come and tell me; don't go away and sulk. If I have done or said anything to offend you, I will ask your pardon. Can I do anything more than that? Your cousin and friend,

      'KATE MENZIES.'

      Of course he had to answer such an appeal in person: he went down the next morning.

      'Quarrel, woman? What put that into your head? If there had been anything of that kind, I would have told you fast enough; I'm not one of the sulking kind.'

      'Well, I'm very glad to ken we're just as good friends as before,' said Kate, regarding him, 'but I'm not glad to see the way ye're looking, Ronald, my lad. Ye're not yourself at all, my man – what's got ye whitey-faced, limp, shaky-looking like that? See here.'

      She went to the sideboard, and the next instant there was on the table a bottle of champagne, with a couple of glasses, and a flask of angostura bitters.

      'No, no, Katie, lass, I will not touch a drop,' said he: and he rose and took his cap in his hand.

      'You will not?' she said. 'You will not? Why, man, you're ill – you're ill, I tell ye. It's medicine!'

      He gripped her by the hand, and took the bottle from her, and put it down on the table.

      'If I'm ill, I deserve to be, and that's the fact, lass. Let be – let be, woman; I'm obliged to ye – some other time – some other time.'

      'Then if you winna, I will,' she said, and she got hold of the bottle and opened it and poured out a glass of the foaming fluid.

      'And dinna I ken better what's good for ye than ye do yersel'?' said she boldly. 'Ay, if ye were ruled by me, and drank nothing but what ye get in this house, there would be little need for ye to be frightened at what a wean might drink. Ye dinna ken your best friends, my lad.'

      'I know you wish me weel, Katie, lass,' said he, for he did not wish to appear ungrateful, 'but I'm better without it.'

      'Yes,' said she tauntingly. 'Ye're better without sitting up a' night wi' a lot o' roystering fellows, smoking bad tobacco and drinking bad whisky. What mak's your face sae white? It's fusel-oil, if ye maun ken. Here, Ronald, what canna hurt a woman canna hurt a man o' your build – try it, and see if ye dinna feel better.'

      She put a good dash of bitters into the glass, and poured out the champagne, and offered it to him. He did not wish to offend her; and he himself did not believe the thing could hurt him; he took the glass and sipped about a teaspoonful, and then set it down.

      Kate Menzies looked at him, and laughed aloud, and took him by the shoulders and pushed him back into his chair.

      'There's a man for ye! Whatna young ladies' seminary have ye been brought up at?'

      'I'll tell ye, lass,' he retorted. 'It was one where they taught folk no to force other folk to drink against their will.'

      'Then it was different frae the one where I was brought up, for there, when the doctor ordered anybody to take medicine, they were made to take it. And here's yours,' she said; and she stood before him with the glass in her hand. She was good-natured; it would have been ungracious to refuse; he took the glass from her and drank off the contents.

      Now a glass of champagne, even with the addition of a little angostura bitters, cannot be called a very powerful potion to those accustomed to such things; but the fact was that he had not touched a drop of any alcoholic fluid for two days; and this seemed to go straight to the brain. It produced a slight, rather agreeable giddiness; a sense of comfort was diffused throughout the system; he was not so anxious to get away. And Kate began talking – upbraiding him for thinking that she wanted to see him otherwise than well and in his usual health, and declaring that if he were guided by her, there would be no need for him to torture himself with total abstinence, and to reduce himself to this abject state. The counsel (which was meant in all honesty) fell on yielding ears; Kate brought some biscuits, and filled herself out another glass.

      'That's what it is,' she said boldly, 'if you would be ruled by my advice there would be no shaking hands and white cheeks for ye. Feeling better, are ye? – ay, I warrant ye! Here, man, try this.'

      She filled his glass again, adding a good dose of bitters.

      'This one I will, but not a drop more,' said he. 'Ye're a desperate creature, lass, for making folk comfortable.'

      'I ken what's the matter wi' you better than ye ken yoursel', Ronald,' said she, looking at him shrewdly. 'You're disappointed – you're out o' heart – because thae fine American friends o' yours hae forgotten you; and you've got sick o' this new work o' yours; and you've got among a lot o' wild fellows that are leading ye to the devil. Mark my words. Americans! Better let a man trust to his ain kith and kin.'

      'Well, Katie, lass, I maun say this, that ye've just been ower kind to me since ever I came to Glasgow.'

      'Another glass, Ronald – '

      'Not one drop – thank ye' – and this time he rose with the definite resolve to get away, for even these two glasses had caused a swimming in his head, and he knew not how much more he might drink if he stayed.

      'Better go for a long walk, then,' said Kate, 'and come back at three and have dinner with us. I'll soon put ye on your legs again – trust to me.'

      But when he went out into the open air, he found himself so giddy and half-dazed and bewildered that, instead of going away for any long walk, he thought he would go back home and lie down. He felt less happy now. Why had he taken this accursed thing after all his resolves?

      And then it was – as he went up Renfield Street – that he caught his first glimpse of Meenie. No wonder he turned and slunk rapidly away – anxious to hide anywhere – hoping that Meenie had not seen him. And what a strange thing was this – Meenie in Glasgow town! Oh, if he could СКАЧАТЬ