Alec Forbes of Howglen

CHAPTER LXXV

All the night during which Isie Constable lay dreaming of racks, pincers, screws, and Alec Forbes, the snow was busy falling outside, shrouding the world once more; so that next day the child could not get out upon any pretence. Had she succeeded in escaping from the house, she might have been lost in the snow, or drowned in the Glamour, over which there was as yet only a rude temporary bridge to supply the place of that which had been swept away. But although very uneasy at the obstruction of her projects, she took good care to keep her own counsel. -The snow was very obstinate to go. At length, after many days, she was allowed to go out with stockings over her shoes, and play in the garden. No sooner was she alone, than she darted out of the garden by the back-gate, and before her mother missed her, was crossing the Glamour. She had never been so far alone, and felt frightened; but she pushed bravely forward.

Mrs Forbes and Annie Anderson were sitting together when Mary put her head in at the door and told her mistress that the daughter of Mr Constable, the clothier, wanted to see her.

"Why, she's a mere infant, Mary!" exclaimed Mrs Forbes.

"'Deed is she, mem; but she's nane the less doon the stair i' the kitchie. Ye wad hae seen her come yersel' but she's ower wee. Ye cudna get a glimp o' her ower the edge o' the snaw i' the cuttin' doon to the yett. Hoo her fowk cud lat her oot! She's a puir wee white-faced elf o' a crater, but she's byous auld-farrand and wise-like, and naething will do but she maun see yersel', mem."

"Bring her up, Mary. Poor little thing! What can she want?"

Presently Isie entered the room, looking timidly about her.

"Well, my dear, what do you want?"

"It's aboot Alec, mem," said Isie, glancing towards Annie.

"Well, what about him?" asked Mrs Forbes, considerably bewildered, but not fearing bad news from the mouth of such a messenger.

"Hae ye heard naething aboot him, mem?"

"Nothing particular. I haven't heard from him for a fortnight."

"That's easy accoontit for, mem."

"What do you mean, my dear? Speak out."

"Weel, mem, the way I heard it was raither particlar, and I wadna like a'body to ken."

Here she glanced again at Annie.

"You needn't be afraid of Annie Anderson," said Mrs Forbes smiling.

"What is it?"

"Weel, mem, I didna richtly ken. But they hae ta'en him intil a dreidfu' place, and whether they hae left a haill inch o' skin upon's body, is mair nor I can tell; but they hae rackit him, and pu'd o' 's nails aff, maybe them a', and -"

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Mrs Forbes, with a most unusual inclination to hysterics, seeing something terrible peep from behind the grotesque report of Isie, "what do you mean, child?"

"I'm tellin' ye't as I heard it, mem. I houp they haena brunt him yet.

Ye maun gang and tak' him oot o' their han's."

"Whose hands, child? Who's doing all this to him?"

"They stan' aboot the corners o' the streets, mem, in muckle toons, and they catch a haud o' young laads, and they trail them awa' wi' them, and they jist torment the life oot o' them. They say they're women; but I dinna believe that. It's no possible. They maun be men dressed up in women's claes."

Was it a great relief to the mother's heart to find that the childish understanding of Isie had misinterpreted and misrepresented? She rose and left the room, and her troubled step went to and fro overhead. And the spirit of Annie was troubled likewise. How much she understood, I cannot determine; but I believe that a sense of vague horror and pity overwhelmed her heart. Yet the strength of her kindness forced her to pay some attention to the innocent little messenger of evil.

"Whaur heard ye a' that, Isie, dear?"

"I heard my father and my mither gaein' on lamentin' ower him efter I was i' my bed, and they thocht I was asleep. But gin Mistress Forbes winna tak' him awa', I'll gang and tell a' the ministers in Glamerton, and see whether they winna raise the toon."

Annie stared in amazement at the wee blue-eyed wizened creature before her speaking with the decision of a minor prophet.

"Is the child here still?" said Mrs Forbes with some asperity as she re-entered the room. "I must go by the mail this afternoon, Annie."

"That's richt, mem," said Isie. "The suner the better, I'm sure. He mayna be deid yet."

"What a very odd child!" said Mrs Forbes.

"Wouldn't it be better to write first, ma'am?" suggested Annie.

Before Mrs Forbes could reply, the white mutch of Mrs Constable appeared over the top of the snow that walled the path. She was in hot pursuit of her child, whose footsteps she had traced. When shown into the dining-room, she rushed up to her, and caught her to her bosom, crying,

"Ye ill-contrived smatchit! What hae ye been aboot, rinnin' awa' this gait? I wonner ye wasna droont i' the Glamour."

"I don't see what better you could expect of your own child, Mrs Constable, if you go spreading reports against other people's children," said Mrs Forbes bitterly.

"It's a lee whaever said sae," retorted Mrs Constable fiercely. "Wha tell't ye that?"

"Where else could your child have heard such reports, then?"

"Isie! Isie! My poor wee bairn! What hae ye been aboot to tak' awa' yer mither's gude name?"

And she hugged the child closer yet.

Isie hung down her head, and began to have dim perceptions that she might have been doing mischief with the best possible intentions.

"I only tell't Mistress Forbes hoo ill they war to Alec."

After a moment's reflection, Mrs Constable turned with a subdued manner to Mrs Forbes.

"The bairn's a curious bairn, mem," she said. "And she's owerheard her father and me speakin' thegither as gin't had been only ae body thinkin'. For gin ever twa was ane, that twa and that ane is Andrew Constable and mysel'."

"But what right had you to talk about my son?"

"Weel, mem, that queston gangs raither far. What's already procleemed frae the hoose-taps may surely be spoken i' the ear in closets- for oor back-room is but a closet. Gin ye think that fowk'll haud their tongues about your bairn mair nor ony ither body's bairn ye're mista'en, mem. But never ane heard o' 't frae me, and I can tak' my bodily aith for my man, for he's jist by ordinar' for haudin' his tongue. I cud hardly worm it oot o' 'm mysel'."

Mrs Forbes saw that she had been too hasty.

"What does it all mean, Mrs Constable?" she said, "for I am quite ignorant."

"Ye may weel be that, mem. And maybe there's no a word o' trouth i' the story, for I'm doobtin' the win' that brocht it blew frae an ill airt."

"I really don't understand you, Mrs Constable. What do they say about him?"

"Ow, jist that he's consortin' wi' the warst o' ill company, mem. But as I said to Anerew, maybe he'll come oot o' their cluiks no that muckle the waur, efter a'."

Mrs Forbes sank on the sofa, and hid her face in her hands. Annie turned white as death, and left the room. When Mrs Forbes lifted her head, Mrs Constable and her strange child had vanished.

Mrs Forbes and Annie wept together bitterly, in the shadow of death which the loved one cast upon them across the white plains and hills. Then the mother sat down and wrote, begging him to deny the terrible charge; after which they both felt easier. But when the return of post had brought no reply, and the next day was likewise barren of tidings, Mrs Forbes resolved to go to the hateful city at once.

CHAPTER LXXVI

When Alec woke in the morning, it rushed upon his mind that he had had a terrible dream; and he reproached himself that even in a dream he should be capable of striking to the earth the friend who had just saved him from disgrace, and wanted to save him from more. But as his headache began to yield to cold water, discomposing doubts rose upon his clearing mental horizon. They were absurd, but still they were unpleasant. It could be only a dream that he had felled the man twice his age, and half his size, who had once shed his blood for him. But why did it look so like fact, if it was only a dream? Horrible thought! Could it?– It could -It must be -It was a fact!

Haggard with horror as well as revelry, he rushed towards the stair, but was met by Mrs Leslie, who stopped him and said:

"Mr Forbes, gin you and Mr Cupples gang on at this rate, I'll be forced to gie ye baith warnin' to flit. I oucht to hae written to yer mither afore noo. Ye'll brack her hert or a' be dune. Eh! it's a sair thing whan young lads tak to drink, and turn reprobates in a jiffie (moment)."

"I dinna gang to your kirk, and ye needna preach to me. What's the maitter wi' Mr Cupples? He hasna ta'en to drink in a jiffie, has he?"

"Ye scorner! He cam hame last nicht bleedin' at the heid, and i' the han's o' the watchman. Puir man! he cud hardly win up the stair. I canna think hoo he cam' to fa' sae sair; for they say there's a special Providence watches ower drunk men and bairns. He was an awfu' sicht, honest man! A terrible mixter o' reid and white."

"What said he about it?" asked Alec, trembling.

"Ow, naething. He had naething till say. Ye maunna gang near him; for I left him fest asleep. Gang awa benn to yer ain room, and I'll be in wi' yer brakfast in ten minutes. Eh! but ye wad be a fine lad gin ye wad only gie up the drink and the ill company."

Alec obeyed, ashamed and full of remorse. The only thing he could do was to attend to Mr Cupples's business in the library, where he worked at the catalogue till the afternoon lecture was over.

Nobody had seen Beauchamp, and the blinds of Kate's windows were drawn down.

All day his heart was full of Mr Cupples; and as he went home he recalled everything with perfect distinctness, and felt that his conduct had been as vile as it was possible for conduct to be. Because a girl could not love him, he had ceased to love his mother, had given himself up to Satan, and had returned the devotion of his friend with a murderous blow. Because he could not have a bed of roses, he had thrown himself down in the pig-stye. He rushed into a public-house, and swallowed two glasses of whisky. That done, he went straight home, and ran up to Mr Cupples's room.

Mr Cupples was sitting before the fire, with his hands on his knees and his head bound in white, bloodstained. He turned a ghastly face, and tried to smile. Alec's heart gave way utterly. He knelt at Mr Cupples's feet, laid his head on his knee, and burst into very unsaxon but most gracious tears. Mr Cupples laid a small trembling hand on the boy's head, saying,

"Eh! bantam, bantam!" and could say no more.

"Mr Cupples," sobbed Alec, "forgive me. I'll cut my throat, gin ye like."

"Ye wad do better to cut the deevil's throat."

"Hoo could I do that? Tell me, and I'll do 't."

"Wi' the broken whisky-bottle, man. That's at the root o' a' the mischeef. It's no you. It's the drink. And eh! Alec, we micht be richt happy thegither efter that. I wad mak a scholar o' ye."

"Weel, Mr Cupples, ye hae a richt to demand o' me what ye like; for henceforth ye hae the pooer o' life or deith ower me. But gin I try to brak throu the drinkin', I maun haud oot ower frae the smell o' 't; an' I doobt," added Alec slyly, "ye wadna hae the chance o' makin' muckle o' a scholar o' me in that case."

And now the dark roots of thought and feeling blossomed into the fair flower of resolution.

"Bantam," said Mr Cupples solemnly, "I sweir to God, gin ye'll gie ower the drink and the lave o' yer ill gaits, I'll gie ower the drink as weel. I hae naething ither to gie ower. But that winna be easy," he added with a sigh, stretching his hand towards his glass.

From a sudden influx of energy, Alec stretched his hand likewise towards the same glass, and laying hold on it as Mr Cupples was raising it to his lips, cried:

"I sweir to God likewise—And noo," he added, leaving his hold of the glass, "ye daurna drink it."

Mr Cupples threw glass and all into the fire.

"That's my fareweel libation to the infernal Bacchus," he said. "Lat it gang to swall the low o' Phlegethon. But eh! it's a terrible undertakin'. It's mair nor Hercules himsel' could hae made onything o'. Bantam! I hae saicrifeesed mysel' to you. Haud to your pairt, or I canna haud to mine."

It was indeed a terrible undertaking. I doubt whether either of them would have had courage for it, had he not been under those same exciting influences -which, undermining all power of manly action, yet give for the moment a certain amount of energy to expend. But the limits are narrow within which, by wasting his capital, a man secures a supply of pocket-money. And for them the tug of war was to come.

They sat on opposite sides of the table and stared at each other. As the spirituous tide ebbed from the brain, more and more painful visions of the near future steamed up. Yet even already conscience began to sustain them. Her wine was strong, and they were so little used to it that it even excited them.

With Alec the struggle would soon be over. His nervous system would speedily recover its healthy operations. But Cupples -from whose veins alcohol had expelled the blood, whose skull was a Circean cup of hurtful spells -would not delirium follow for him?

Suddenly Alec laid his hand on the bottle. Mr Cupples trembled. Was he going to break his vow already?

"Wadna't be better to fling this into the neist yard, Mr Cupples?" said Alec. "We daurna fling 't i' the fire. It wad set the chimley in a low (flame)."

"Na, na. Lat ye 't sit," returned Mr Cupples.

"I wad be clean affrontit gin I cudna see and forbear. Ye may jist pit it into the press though. A body needna lay burdens grievous to be borne upo' himsel' mair nor upo' ither fowk. Noo, lat's hae a game o' cribbage, to haud's ohn thocht aboot it."

They played two or three games. It was pathetic to see how Mr Cupples's right hand, while he looked at the cards in his left, would go blindly flitting about the spot where his glass had always used to stand; and how, when he looked up unable to find it, his face shadowed over with disappointment. After those two or three games, he threw down the cards, saying,

"It winna do, bantam. I dinna like the cairts the nicht. Wi'oot ony thing to weet them, they're dooms dry. What say ye to a chorus o' schylus?"

Alec's habits of study had been quite broken up of late. Even the medical lectures and the hospital classes had been neglected. So schylus could not be much of a consolatory amusement in the blank which follows all exorcism. But Cupples felt that if no good spirit came into the empty house, sweeping and garnishing would only entice the seven to take the place of the one. So he tried to interest his pupil once again in his old studies; and by frequent changes did ere long succeed in holding tedium at bay.

But all his efforts would have resulted in nothing but that vain sweeping and garnishing, had not both their hearts been already tenanted by one good and strong spirit -essential life and humanity. That spirit was Love, which at the long last will expel whatsoever opposeth itself. While Alec felt that he must do everything to please Mr Cupples, he, on his part, felt that all the future of the youth lay in his hands. He forgot the pangs of alcoholic desire in his fear lest Alec should not be able to endure the tedium of abstinence; and Alec's gratitude and remorse made him humble as a slave to the little big-hearted man whom he had injured so cruelly.

"I'm tired and maun gang to my bed, for I hae a sair heid," said Mr

Cupples, that first night.

"That's my doin'!" said Alec, sorrowfully.

"Gin this new repentance o' yours and mine turns oot to hae onything in't, we'll baith hae rizzon to be thankfu' that ye cloured (dinted) my skull, Alec. But eh me! I'm feared I winna sleep muckle the nicht."

"Wad ye like me to sit up wi' ye?" asked Alec. "I cud sleep i' your cheir weel eneuch."

"Na, na. We hae baith need to say oor prayers, and we cudna do that weel thegither. Gang ye awa' to yer bed, and min' yer vow to God and to me. And dinna forget yer prayers, Alec."

Neither of them forgot his prayers. Alec slept soundly—Mr Cupples not at all.

"I think," he said, when Alec appeared in the morning, "I winna tak sic a hardship upo' me anither nicht. Jist open the cat's door and fling the bottle into somebody's yard. I houp it winna cut onybody's feet."

Alec flew to the cupboard, and dragged out the demon.

"Noo," said Mr Cupples, "open the twa doors wide, and fling 't wi' a birr, that I may hear its last speech and dyin' declaration."

Alec did as he was desired, and the bottle fell on the stones of a little court. The clash rose to the ears of Mr Cupples.

"Thank God!" he said with a sigh.—"Alec, no man that hasna gane throu the same, can tell what I hae gane throu this past nicht, wi' that deevil i' the press there cryin' 'Come pree (taste) me! come pree me!' But I heard and hearkened not. And yet whiles i' the nicht, although I'm sure I didna sleep a wink, I thocht I was fumblin' awa' at the lock o' the press an' cudna get it opened. And the press was a coffin set up upo' its en', an' I kent that there was a corp inside it, and yet I tried sair to open't. An' syne again, I thocht it was the gate o' Paradees afore which stud the angel wi' the flamin' sword that turned ilka gait, and wadna lat me in. But I'm some better sin the licht cam, and I wad fain hae a drappy o' that fine caller tipple they ca' watter."

Alec ran down and brought it cold from the pump, saying, as Mr Cupples returned the tumbler with a look of thanks,

"But there's the tappit hen. I doot gin we lea' her i' the press, she'll be wantin' to lay."

"Na, na, nae fear o' that. She's as toom's a cock. Gang and luik. The last drap in her wame flaw oot at the window i' that bottle. Eh! Alec, but I'll hae a sair day, and ye maun be true to me. Gie me my Homer, or I'll never win throu't. An ye may lay John Milton within my rax (reach); for I winna pit my leg oot o' the blankets till ye come hame. Sae ye maunna be langer nor ye can help."

Alec promised, and set off with a light heart.

Beauchamp was at none of the classes. And the blinds of Kate's windows were still drawn down.

For a whole week he came home as early as possible and spent the rest of the day with Mr Cupples. But many dreary hours passed over them both. The suffering of Mr Cupples and the struggle which he had to sustain with the constant craving of his whole being, are perhaps indescribable; but true to his vow and to his friend, he endured manfully. Still it was with a rueful-comical look and a sigh, sometimes, that he would sit down to his tea, remarking,

"Eh, man! this is meeserable stuff -awfu' weyk tipple -a pagan invention a'thegither."

But the tea comforted the poor half-scorched, half-sodden nerves notwithstanding, and by slow degrees they began to gather tone and strength; his appetite improved; and at the end of the week he resumed his duties in the library. And thenceforth, as soon as his classes were over, Alec would go to the library to Mr Cupples, or on other days Mr Cupples would linger near the medical school or hospital, till Alec came out, and then they would go home together. Once home, both found enough to do in getting one of them up to the mark of the approaching examinations.—Two pale-faced creatures they sat there, in Mr Cupples's garret, looking wretched and subdued enough, although occasionally they broke out laughing, as the sparks of life revived and flickered into merriment.

Inquiring after Miss Fraser, Alec learned that she was ill. The maid inquired in return if he knew anything about Mr Beauchamp.

CHAPTER LXXVII

Mr Cupples and Alec were hard at work -the table covered with books and papers; when a knock came to the door -the rarest occurrence in that skyey region -and the landlady ushered in Mrs Forbes.

The two men sprang to their feet, and Mrs Forbes stared with gratified amazement. The place was crowded with signs of intellectual labour, and not even a pack of cards was visible.

"Why didn't you answer my last letter, Alec?" she said.

It had dropped behind some books, and he had never seen it.

"What is the meaning, then, of such reports about you?" she resumed, venturing to put the question in the presence of Mr Cupples in the hope of a corroborated refutation.

Alec looked confused, grew red, and was silent. Mr Cupples took up the reply.

"Ye see, mem, it's a pairt o' the edication o' the human individual, frae the time o' Adam and Eve doonwith, to learn to refuse the evil and chowse the guid. This doesna aye come o' eatin' butter and honey, but whiles o' eatin' aise (ashes) and dirt. Noo, my pupil, here, mem, your son, has eaten that dirt and made that chice. And I'll be caution (security) for him that he'll never mair return to wallow i' that mire. It's three weeks, mem, sin ae drop o' whusky has passed his mou."

"Whisky!" exclaimed the mother. "Alec! Is it possible?"

"Mem, mem! It wad become ye better to fa' doon upo' yer knees and thank the God that's brocht him oot o' a fearfu' pit and oot o' the miry clay and set his feet upon a rock. But the rock's some sma' i' the fit-haud, and ae word micht jist caw him aff o' 't again. Gin ye fa' to upbraidin' o' 'm, ye may gar him clean forget's washin'."

But Mrs Forbes was proud, and did not like interference between her and her son. Had she found things as bad as she had expected, she would have been humble. Now that her fears had abated, her natural pride had returned.

"Take me to your own room, Alec," she said.

"Ay, ay, mem. Tak' him wi' ye. But caw cannie, ye ken, or ye'll gie me a deevil o' a job wi' 'm."

With a smile to Cupples, Alec led the way.

He would have told his mother almost everything if she had been genial.

As she was, he contented himself with a general confession that he had

been behaving very badly, and would have grown ten times worse but for

Mr Cupples, who was the best friend that he had on earth.

"Better than your mother, Alec?" she asked, jealously.

"I was no kith or kin of his, and yet he loved me," said Alec.

"He ought to have behaved more like a gentleman to me."

"Mother, you don't understand Mr Cupples. He's a strange creature. He takes a pride in speaking the broadest Scotch, when he could talk to you in more languages than you ever heard of, if he liked."

"I don't think he's fit company for you anyhow. We'll change the subject, if you please."

So Alec was yet more annoyed, and the intercourse between mother and son was forced and uncomfortable. As soon as she retired to rest, Alec bounded up stairs again.

"Never mind my mother," he cried. "She's a good woman, but she's vexed with me, and lets it out on you."

"Mind her!" answered Mr Cupples; "she's a verra fine woman; and she may say what she likes to me. She'll be a' richt the morn's mornin'. A woman wi' ae son's like a coo wi' ae horn, some kittle (ticklish), ye ken. I cud see in her een haill coal-pits o' affection. She wad dee for ye, afore ye cud say- 'Dinna, mither.'"

Next day they went to call on Professor Fraser. He received them kindly, and thanked Mrs Forbes for her attentions to his niece. But he seemed oppressed and troubled. His niece was far from well, he said -had not left her room for some weeks, and could see no one.

Mrs Forbes associated Alec's conduct with Kate's illness, but said nothing about her suspicions. After one day more, she returned home, reassured by but not satisfied with her visit. She felt that Alec had outgrown his former relation to her, and had a dim perception that her pride had prevented them from entering upon a yet closer relation. It is their own fault when mothers lose by the growth of their children.

CHAPTER LXXVIII

Meantime, Annie was passing through a strange experience. It gave her a dreadful shock to know that such things were reported of her hero, her champion. They could not be true, else Chaos was come again. But when no exultant denial of them arrived from the pen of his mother, although she wrote as she had promised, then she understood by degrees that the youth had erred from the path, and had denied the Lord that bought him. She brooded and fancied and recoiled till the thought of him became so painful that she turned from it, rather than from him, with discomfort amounting almost to disgust. He had been to her the centre of all that was noble and true. And he revelled in company of which she knew nothing except from far-off hints of unapproachable pollution! Her idol all of silver hue was blackened with the breath of sulphur, and the world was overspread with the darkness which radiated from it.