Alec Forbes of Howglen Part 74

"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.

n.o.body 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 gla.s.ses 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 G.o.d, 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 gla.s.s.

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

"I sweir to G.o.d likewise--And noo," he added, leaving his hold of the gla.s.s, "ye daurna drink it."

Mr Cupples threw gla.s.s 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)."