In the meantime, while God took care of the sparrows by himself, he allowed Malcolm a share in the protection of a human heart capable of the keenest suffering—that of the mad laird.
CHAPTER XXXII: THE SKIPPER'S CHAMBER
One day towards the close of the fishing season, the marquis called upon Duncan; and was received with a cordial unembarrassed welcome.
"I want you, Mr MacPhail," said his lordship, "to come and live in that little cottage, on the banks of the burn, which one of the under gamekeepers, they tell me, used to occupy.. I 'll have it put in order for you, and you shall live rent free as my piper."
"I thank your lortship's crace," said Duncan, "and she would pe proud of ta honour, put it 'll pe too far away from ta shore for her poy's fishing."
"I have a design upon him too," returned the marquis. "They 're building a little yacht for me—a pleasure boat, you understand—at Aberdeen, and I want Malcolm to be skipper. But he is such a useful fellow, and so thoroughly to be depended upon, that I should prefer his having a room in the house. I should like to know he was within call any moment I might want him."
Duncan did not clutch at the proposal. He was silent so long that the marquis spoke again.
"You do not quite seem to like the plan, Mr MacPhail," he said.
"If aal wass here as it used to wass in ta Highlants, my lort," said Duncan, "when every clansman wass son or prother or father to his chief tat would pe tifferent; put my poy must not co and eat with serfants who haf nothing put teir waches to make tem love and opey your lortship. If her poy serfs another man, it must pe pecause he loves him, and looks upon him as his chief, who will shake haands with him and take ta father's care of him; and her poy must tie for him when ta time comes."
Even a feudal lord cannot be expected to have sympathized with such grand patriarchal ideas; they were much too like those of the kingdom of heaven; and feudalism itself had by this time crumbled away—not indeed into monthly, but into half yearly wages. The marquis, notwithstanding, was touched by the old man's words, matter of fact as his reply must sound after them.
"I would make any arrangements you or he might wish," he said. "He should take his meals with Mrs Courthope, have a bedroom to himself and be required only to look after the yacht, and now and then do some bit of business I couldn't trust any one else with."
The highlander's pride was nearly satisfied.
"So," he said, "it 'll pe his own henchman my lort will pe making of her poy?"
"Something like that. we'll see how it goes. If he does n't like it, he can drop it. It's more that I want to have him about me than anything else. I want to do something for him when I have a chance. I like him."
"My lort will pe toing ta laad a creat honour," said Duncan. "Put," he added, with a sigh, "she'll pe lonely, her nainsel!"
"He can come and see you twenty times a day—and stop all night when you particularly want him. we'll see about some respectable woman to look after the house for you."
"she'll haf no womans to look after her," said Duncan fiercely.
"Oh, very well!—of course not, if you don't wish it," returned the marquis, laughing.
But Duncan did not even smile in return. He sat thoughtful and silent for a moment, then said:
"And what 'll pecome of her lamps and her shop?"
"You shall have all the lamps and candlesticks in the house to attend to and take charge of," said the marquis, who had heard of the old man's whim from Lady Florimel; "and for the shop, you won't want that when you're piper to the Marquis of Lossie."
He did not venture to allude to wages more definitely.
"Well, she'll pe talking to her poy apout it," said Duncan, and the marquis saw that he had better press the matter no further for the time.
To Malcolm the proposal was full of attraction. True, Lord Lossie had once and again spoken so as to offend him, but the confidence he had shown in him had gone far to atone for that. And to be near Lady Florimel!—to have to wait on her in the yacht and sometimes in the house!—to be allowed books from the library perhaps!—to have a nice room, and those lovely grounds all about him!—It was tempting!
The old man also, the more he reflected, liked the idea the more. The only thing he murmured at was, being parted from his grandson at night. In vain Malcolm reminded him that during the fishing season he had to spend most nights alone; Duncan answered that he had but to go to the door, and look out to sea, and there was nothing between him and his boy; but now he could not tell how many stone walls might be standing up to divide them. He was quite willing to make the trial, however, and see if he could bear it. So Malcolm went to speak to the marquis.
He did not altogether trust the marquis, but he had always taken a delight in doing anything for anybody—a delight rooted in a natural tendency to ministration, unusually strong, and specially developed by the instructions of Alexander Graham conjoined with the necessities of his blind grandfather; while there was an alluring something, it must be confessed, in the marquis's high position—which let no one set down to Malcolm's discredit: whether the subordination of class shall go to the development of reverence or of servility, depends mainly on the individual nature subordinated. Calvinism itself has produced as loving children as abject slaves, with a good many between partaking of the character of both kinds. Still, as he pondered over the matter on his way, he shrunk a good deal from placing himself at the beck and call of another; it threatened to interfere with that sense of personal freedom which is yet dearer perhaps to the poor than to the rich. But he argued with himself that he had found no infringement of it under Blue Peter; and that, if the marquis were really as friendly as he professed to be, it was not likely to turn out otherwise with him.
Lady Florimel anticipated pleasure in Malcolm's probable consent to her father's plan; but certainly he would not have been greatly uplifted by a knowledge of the sort of pleasure she expected. For some time the girl had been suffering from too much liberty. Perhaps there is no life more filled with a sense of oppression and lack of freedom than that of those under no external control, in whom Duty has not yet gathered sufficient strength to assume the reins of government and subject them to the highest law. Their condition is like that of a creature under an exhausted receiver—oppressed from within outwards for want of the counteracting external weight. It was amusement she hoped for from Malcolm's becoming in a sense one of the family at the House—to which she believed her knowledge of the extremely bare outlines of his history would largely contribute.
He was shown at once into the presence of his lordship, whom he found at breakfast with his daughter.
"Well, MacPhail," said the marquis, "have you made up your mind to be my skipper?"
"Willin'ly, my lord," answered Malcolm.
"Do you know how to manage a sailboat?"
"I wad need, my lord."
"Shall you want any help?"
"That depen's upo' saiveral things—her am size, the wull o' the win', an' whether or no yer lordship or my leddy can tak the tiller."
"We can't settle about that then till she comes. I hear she 'll soon be on her way now. But I cannot have you dressed like a farmer!" said his lordship, looking sharply at the Sunday clothes which Malcolm had donned for the visit.
"What was I to du, my lord?" returned Malcolm apologetically. "The only ither claes I hae, are verra fishy, an' neither yersel' nor my leddy cud bide them i' the room aside ye."
"Certainly not," responded the marquis, as in a leisurely manner he devoured his omelette: "I was thinking of your future position as skipper of my boat. What would you say to a kilt now?"
"Na, na, my lord," rejoined Malcolm; "a kilt's no seafarin' claes. A kilt wadna du ava', my lord."
"You cannot surely object to the dress of your own people," said the marquis.
"The kilt 's weel eneuch upon a hillside," said Malcolm, "I dinna doobt; but faith! seafarin', my lord, ye wad want the trews as weel."