Big Game Part 9

It was a chill, yet fusty little apartment, the shrine of the acc.u.mulated treasures of Mrs McNab's lifetime. Time was when she had been cook to a family in Edinburgh, before McNab won her reluctant consent to matrimony. Photographs of different members of "The Family"

were displayed in plush frames on the mantelpiece, table, and piano-top.

Mr Moncrieff in Sheriff's attire, "The Mistress" in black satin; Master Percy in cap and gown, Miss Isabel reclining in a hammock, Master Bunting and Miss Poppet in various stages of development. There was also a framed picture of "The House"; a tambourine painted with purple iris by Miss Isabel's own hands; an old bannerette in cross-st.i.tch pendent from the mantelpiece, a collection of paper mats, shaded from orange to white, the gla.s.s-covered vase of wax flowers which had attracted Ron's notice, one or two cheap china vases, a pot of musk placed diametrically in the centre of a wicker table, a sofa, and two "occasional chairs" gorgeously upholstered in red satin and green plush.

Mrs Macalister seated herself in the larger of the chairs, Margot took possession of the smaller, and heroically stifled a yawn. Another evening she would wrap herself in her golf cape and go out into the clear cool evening air; but now at last fatigue overpowered her; fatigue and a little chill of disappointment and doubt. How would it be possible to become intimate with a man who sat at the opposite end of the table, shut himself in his own room, and was apparently oblivious of his surroundings? With characteristic recklessness Margot had put on her very prettiest blouse, hoping to make a good impression on this first evening, but for all the attention it had received it might as well have been black delaine! She sighed and yawned again, whereupon Mrs Macalister manifested a kindly concern.

"You're tired out, poor la.s.sie! Ye've had a weary journey of it. From London, I believe? I have a daughter married in Notting Hill. Will that be anywhere near where you stay? I'm hoping she'll be up to visit us in the New Year, and bring the baby with her. I have five children.

The eldest girl is settled in Glasgow. I say, that's something to be thankful for, to have a married daughter near by. There was a young lawyer paying her attention who's away to the Cape. If it had been him, I'd have broken my heart! It's bad enough to have Lizzie in London, where, if the worst comes to the worst, ye can get to her for thirty- three shillings, but I couldn't bear one of my girls to go abroad..."

"But the men have to go--it's their duty to the Empire; and somebody must marry the poor things," Margot declared, still stifling yawns, but roused to a sleepy interest in Lizzie and her sisters. She foresaw that Mrs Macalister would need but the slightest encouragement to divulge her entire family history, and wondered whether time would prove her to be more of a solace or a bore. As a rule, she herself preferred to monopolise the larger share of a conversation, but to-night she was too tired to do more than offer the necessary remarks by the way.

"Oh ay, that's right enough. I don't object to their marrying, so long as it isn't one of my girls. I sent Isabel off on a visit to a school friend when young Bailey began to grow particular. A mother can manage these things, if she's any gumption, without letting the young people suspect that there is any interference. They like their own way, young people do, and Isabel is obstinate, like her father. Mr Macalister can be led, but he'll never be driven. Ye have to ca' canny to get the better of him."

Margot murmured a few words of polite but somewhat vague import, being rather puzzled to decide in what light she was expected to view Mr Macalister's characteristics. It occurred to her that as the good lady was determined to talk, the conversation might be carefully directed into more interesting channels, and valuable information gleaned concerning the other guests of the house.

"Have you been staying here long? Are you going to make a long visit?"

she inquired; whereupon her companion began again with increased vigour.

"We've been a matter of a week, and as for the future, it just depends!

Mr Macalister's been failing for the past year. He's just unduly set on his business, and his nerves," (she p.r.o.nounced it "nearves") "are in a terrible condition. The doctor warned him he would have a collapse if he didn't get a rest at once. 'Take him away where he can't get letters and telegrams every hour of the day,' he told me. 'Take him to the quietest place you can find, and keep him there as long as ye can!' So here we are; but how long he'll put up with it, is past my knowledge.

He begins to weary already, and of course no man will ever believe that any one else will take his place. They're conceited creatures, my dear.

Mr Macalister--"

"It is nice for him having so many companions. I suppose you know the other visitors quite well?" Margot felt that for one evening she had heard as much as she cared for about Mr Macalister, and headed the subject in the desired direction with unflinching determination. "The Mr Elgood who took the head of the table seems very agreeable."

"Oh ay, he's a friendly wee body!" Mrs Macalister allowed, patronisingly. "There's no harm in him, nor in his brother neither, though he keeps himself to himself, and is always busy with his fishing, or writing, or what not. My husband went fishing with him one day, but they didn't seem to hit it exactly. Mr Macalister is very genial-like when he's in health, and he can't do with any one who's stand-off. He always says--"

"But Mrs McNab seems to prefer the younger brother. He must be nice, or she would not like him so much," interrupted Margot once more; and Mrs Macalister smiled with unruffled good-humour.

"Oh ay, they're just two dour, silent bodies who understand each other and each other's ways. He goes and has a crack with her now and then, and I've even heard them laugh,"--her voice took an awed and incredulous tone--"but at the table he never raises his voice. Mr Macalister says he is very close. He couldn't get anything out of him at all, and all his friends say Mr Macalister ought to have been a lawyer, for he's just wonderful for getting to the bottom of things. Of course when a man's run down, he isna at his best. Ye can't judge him, as I say, as you can when he's in his usual--"

Margot groaned in spirit! To keep Mr Macalister out of the conversation was evidently a hopeless feat. She saw before her a long succession of interviews when she would sit caged up in this little room, listening to the expressions of his virtues and failings! To- night she felt a moral conviction that she would soon fall asleep under the strain, and making an excuse of writing home, escaped to her own room, scribbled a few words on the back of a postcard, wrapped herself in her golf cape, and went out into the road in search of Ron.

It was still broad daylight, but now the sky was grey and colourless, and the mountains had ceased to smile. Like grim watching sentinels they stood on either side, closing in the Glen in a solitude that was almost awesome to behold. It seemed impossible to believe that twenty- four hours earlier one had been in the great city, and had considered Regent's Park countrified! Margot hurried forward to meet Ron, who was strolling along by himself, the other men of the party being out of sight. He looked at her with some anxiety, as she approached, and asked an eager question--

"What's the matter? Aren't you well? I thought you were not coming out. You look quite white!"

"I'm cold and tired, and--scarey! The beauty seems to have disappeared, and it's all so grim and grey. I made an excuse and came out to you with a card to post--but we needn't take it to-night, it's too far to the village."

"Nonsense! the walk is just what you need. You are tired with sitting still, and a sharp trot will warm you up, and help you to sleep. Come along. I'll give you a start to the bend of the road, and race you to the nearest tree."

Margot was not in the least in the mood for running races, but as a means of getting warm it was not to be despised, so she started promptly, running with swift, easy steps, and gradually quickening pace, as Ron gained upon her from the rear. She had not been educated at a girls' public school and been captain of the sports committee for nothing, and, given a short handicap, could often come off best. As the following footsteps grew nearer and nearer she spurted bravely forward, the ends of her cape streaming wildly in the breeze, her uncovered hair ruffled into curling ends. The tree was but a few yards distant; she was laughing and panting, dodging from right and left, to prevent Ron from pa.s.sing by from behind, when round a bend in the road a figure appeared directly in her path, the figure of Brither Elgood himself, his round eyes bulging with surprise and curiosity. He came to an abrupt standstill in the middle of the road, and the racers followed his example, looking, if the truth were told, a trifle abashed to be discovered in so childish an amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Halloa! What is the matter? Is the Inn on fire?"

Margot laughed merrily. The voice, the tone, the manner, were those of a friend of a lifetime, rather than an acquaintance of an hour. It was impossible to answer formally; moreover, the humour of the idea made its appeal.

"No, indeed! On ice, more likely! We were so cold that a race seemed the only chance of getting warm! I hope we didn't startle you too much!"

"I like being startled," returned Mr Elgood complacently. He stood still, swinging his cane, looking from brother to sister with bright, approving eyes. "I was afraid you were feeling tired after your journey, but evidently you have not yet reached the age of fatigue.

That's right! Thats quite right! I am glad that you have joined us at the Nag's Head. We are a respectable and harmonious party, but we need life--young life! We may weary _you_, but you will refresh and enliven us. In the name of our little company, I welcome you to the Glen?"

"Thank you, sir," said Ron simply, while Margot, as usual, hastened to amplify his words.

"I hope we shall be friends. I hope we shall all be friends. I was dreadfully tired really, but I felt worse staying in the house, and in that little parlour after dinner I nearly fell asleep."

Mr Elgood's eyes lit up with a flash of humour.

"But when a man's out of health you canna judge him! When he's in his usual, Mr Macalister's a verra interesting character!" he said solemnly. Then, meeting Margot's start and smile, he began to laugh again, and to shake in his happy, jelly-like fashion. "Ah--ha, I know!

I guessed what was in store for you, as I saw you led away. She's a good woman that; a good, kind, womanly woman. Her devotion does her credit. When you and I get a wife, sir, we shall do well if we find one half so loyal and devoted."

He looked at Ron as he spoke, bringing his eyebrows together in a quick, scrutinising glance; but Ron's face was blank and unresponsive.

Enshrined in his heart was a dim figure, half G.o.ddess, half fairy, a creature of thistledown, of snow, of blossom tossed before the wind; a lovely illusive vision who in due time was to appear and complete his life. It was a violation of the shrine to suggest a Mrs Macalister!

He stood still, his brows knitted, his lips pressed together in a thin, warning line. Margot was impatient at his lack of response, but all the same he looked wonderfully handsome and interesting, and she could see that Mr Elgood regarded him with awakened interest, conscious that here was a character cut out of a pattern of its own, not made in the same mould as the vast majority of his fellows.

They turned and walked together along the winding road. Evidently friendship progressed quickly in this quiet glen, and guests living beneath the same roof accepted each other in simple, natural fashion, as members of a common household. Margot felt a sense of protection in the presence of this little man, so much older than herself, so friendly, so absolutely unsentimental in manner. His head was on a level with her own, and she read a frank admiration in his eyes, but it was an admiration of which Agnes herself could not have disapproved. He was the kind of man one would have chosen for an uncle--an indulgent bachelor uncle with plenty of money, and a partiality for standing treat!

"Tell me about the people in the Inn! I am always so interested in people!" she cried eagerly. "My brother likes other things better-- books and pictures and mountains--but I like the living things best. I know a good deal about Mr Macalister's health, and about Lizzie, and Isabel, and their husbands and babies, and their lovers before they were married. They come from Glasgow--and the old clergyman is Scotch too, I suppose. Is every one Scotch except ourselves and you? We come from London--"

Mr Elgood's face shadowed quickly.

"Yes! but don't mention it. Never mention it!" he cried quickly. "I live there, too, or as nearly live as is possible in the surroundings.

Now for three or four weeks I've escaped, and my one endeavour is to forget that such a place exists. I ask every one as a favour never to mention as much as the name in my hearing. You'll remember, won't you, and be good enough to indulge me? For the moment Miss--Miss Vane, I am a Heelander, born and bred, a strapping young chieftain of five-and- twenty. The Elgood of Elgood, an it please you, in bonnet and kilt, and my foot is on my native heather!"

He tilted his cap on one side, and threw a swagger into his walk, cleverly remindful of the swirl of tartan skirts, then turning upon Margot, queried quickly--

"Why do you laugh? It's rude to laugh! Is it so impossible to think of me in the character?"

"I laugh because I'm pleased," Margot answered, truthfully enough. "I do love to pretend! Let's bury London and our lives there, and pretend that we are _all_ Highlanders! We will be your guests up in your mountain fastness, and you will take us about, and show us the scenes of your historic feuds with neighbouring clans, and we will swear to help you, if any new trouble should arise!"

"Right oh!" cried Mr Elgood, laughing. "I shall be only too proud.

I'm a sociable beggar--during holiday time--and want to do nothing but smoke and talk. To talk nonsense, of course. Nothing dull or improving." He cast a sudden, suspicious look at the girl's face. "You are not clever by any chance, are you? I can't stand cleverness in the country."

Margot laughed gaily.

"I think I am--rather!" she declared audaciously. "I couldn't confess to being stupid, even to please a Highland chief, but it's in a very feminine way. I don't know anything about politics or science, and I've forgotten almost all that I learnt at school, but I take an interest in things, and understand people pretty well. I am generally clever enough to get my own way!"

She laughed again, remembering the purpose of the moment, and its close connection with this newly-made acquaintance. Instinctively she turned towards Ron, and the two pairs of brown eyes met, and flashed a message of mischief, affection, and secret understanding--a glance which made the watcher sigh with a sudden realisation of his own lost youth, his bald head, and increasing bulk. They were only a pair of children, these newcomers; kindly, affectionate, light-hearted children, whose companionship would be a tonic to a lonely, tired man. The broad cherubic countenance showed a pa.s.sing shadow of wistfulness, as he slacked his pace and said in hesitating tones--

"I am afraid I have tacked myself on to you, without waiting for an invitation. I will say good evening now, unless I can act as guide, or help you in any way. Have you any special object in your walk?"

"Only the post office in the village. Do please come with us if you will! We should be delighted to have you!" cried Margot eagerly; and Ron looked down into the little man's face with his beautiful dreamy eyes, and said simply, "Please come, sir," with a sincerity which there was no denying.

Mr Elgood beamed with satisfaction. "Come awa, then, ma bonnie men!"

he cried jauntily, and waved his stick in the air.

For the very first evening Margot could not help thinking that they had made an excellent beginning!