Название: A Princess of Thule
Автор: Black William
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
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Lavender dressed, went outside and looked about for the nearest way down to the stream. He wished to have a chance of saying a word to his friend before Sheila or her father should appear. And at last he thought he could do no better than go across to the bridge, and so make his way down to the banks of the river.
What a fresh morning it was, with all sorts of sweet scents in the air! And here, sure enough, was a pretty picture in the early light – a young girl coming over the bridge carrying a load of green grass on her back. What would she say if he asked her to stop for a moment that he might sketch her pretty costume? Her head-dress was a scarlet handkerchief, tied behind; she wore a tight-fitting bodice of cream-white flannel and petticoats of gray flannel, while she had a waist-belt and pouch of brilliant blue. Did she know of these harmonies of color or of the picturesqueness of her appearance as she came across the bridge in the sunlight? As she drew near she stared at the stranger with the big, dumb eyes of a wild animal. There was no fear, only a sort of surprised observation in them. And as she passed she uttered, without a smile, some brief and laconic salutation in Gaelic, which, of course, the young man could not understand. He raised his cap, however, and said “Good morning!” and went on, with a fixed resolve to learn all the Gaelic that Duncan could teach him.
Surely the tall keeper was in excellent spirits this morning. Long before he drew near, Lavender could hear, in the still of the morning, that he was telling stories about John the Piper, and of his adventures in such distant parts as Portree and Oban, and even in Glasgow.
“And it was Allan M’Gillivray, of Styornoway,” Duncan was saying, as he industriously whipped the shallow runs of the stream, “will go to Glasgow with John; and they went through ta Crinan Canal. Wass you through ta Crinan Canal, sir?”
“Many a time.”
“Ay, jist that. And I hef been told it iss like a river with ta sides o’ a house to it; and what would Allan care for a thing like that, when he hass been to America more than twice or four times? And it wass when he fell into the canal, he was ferry nearly trooned for all that; and when they pulled him to ta shore he wass a ferry angry man. And this iss what John says that Allan will say when he wass on the side of the canal: ‘Kott,’ says he, ‘if I was trooned here, I would show my face in Styornoway no more.’ But perhaps it iss not true, for he will tell many lies, does John the Piper, to hef a laugh at a man.”
“The Crinan Canal is not to be despised, Duncan,” said Ingram, who was sitting on the red sand of the bank, “when you are in it.”
“And do you know what John says that Allan will say to him the first time they went ashore at Glasgow?”
“I am sure I don’t.”
“It was many years ago, before that Allan will be going many times to America, and he will neffer hef seen such fine shops and ta big houses and hundreds and hundreds of people, every one with shoes on their feet. And he will say to John, ‘John, ef I had known in time I should hef been born here.’ But no one will believe it iss true, he is such a teffle of a liar, that John; and he will hef some stories about Mr. Mackenzie himself, as I hef been told, that he will tell when he goes to Styornoway. But John is a ferry cunning fellow, and will not tell any such stories in Borva.”
“I suppose if he did, Duncan, you would dip him in Loch Roag.”
“Oh, there iss more than one,” said Duncan, with a grim twinkle in his eye – “there iss more than one that would hef a joke with him if he was to tell stories about Mr. Mackenzie.”
Lavender had been standing listening, unknown to both. He now went forward and bade them good-morning, and then, having had a look at the trout that Duncan had caught, pulled Ingram up from the bank, put his arm in his and walked away with him.
“Ingram,” he said, suddenly, with a laugh and a shrug, “you know I always come to you when I’m in a fix.”
“I suppose you do,” said the other, “and you are always welcome to whatever help I can give you. But sometimes it seems to me you rush into fixes with the sort of notion that I am responsible for getting you out.”
“I can assure you nothing of the kind is the case. I could not be so ungrateful. However, in the meantime – that is – the fact is, I asked Sheila last night if she should marry me.”
“The devil you did!”
Ingram dropped his companion’s arm and stood looking at him.
“Well, I knew you would be angry,” said the younger man in a tone of apology. “And I know I have been too precipitate, but I thought of the short time we should be remaining here, and of the difficulty of getting an explanation made at an another time; and it was really only to give her a hint as to my own feelings that I spoke. I could not bear to wait any longer.”
“Never mind about yourself,” said Ingram, somewhat curtly. “What did Sheila say?”
“Well, nothing definite. What could you expect a girl to say after so short an acquaintance? But this I can tell you, that the proposal is not altogether distasteful to her, and that I have permission to speak to her at some future time, when we have known each other longer.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“You are quite sure?”
“Certain.”
“There is no mistake about her silence, for example, that might have led you into misinterpreting her wishes altogether?”
“Nothing of the kind is possible. Of course I could not ask the girl for any promise, or anything of that sort. All I asked was, whether she would allow me at some future time to ask her more definitely; and I am so well satisfied with her reply that I am convinced I shall marry her.”
“And is this the fix you wish me to help you out of?” said Ingram, rather coldly.
“Now, Ingram,” said the younger man in penitential tones, “don’t cut up rough about it. You know what I mean. Perhaps I have been hasty and inconsiderate about it; but one thing you may be sure, that Sheila will never have to complain of me if she marries me. You say I don’t know her yet, but there will be plenty of time before we are married. I don’t propose to carry her off to-morrow morning. Now, Ingram, you know what I mean about helping me in the fix – helping me with her father you know, and with herself, for the matter of that. You can do anything with her, she has such a belief in you. You should hear how she talks of you – you never heard anything like it.”
It was an innocent bit of flattery, and Ingram smiled good-naturedly at the boy’s ingenuousness. After all, was he not more loveable and more sincere in this little bit of simple craft, used in the piteousness of his appeal, than when he was giving himself the airs of a man-about-town, and talking of women in a fashion which, to do him justice, expressed nothing of his real sentiments?
Ingram walked on, and said in his slow and deliberate way, “You know I opposed this project of yours from the first. I don’t think you have acted fairly by Sheila or her father, or myself who brought you out here. But if Sheila has been drawn into it, why, then, the whole affair is altered, and we’ve got to make the best of a bad business.”
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