Luttrell Of Arran Part 102

"Very well, Sir; and a mere sailor, to a very young girl who has seen nothing of life, would possibly be fully as attractive as a Member of Parliament. The faculty to find out what is suitable to us, Mr.

M'Kinlay, does not usually occur in very early life."

There was a marked emphasis in the word "suitable" that made the old lawyer's heart throb fast and full. Was this thrown out for encouragement--was it to inspire hope, or suggest warning? What would he not have given to be certain which of the two it meant.

"Ah, Miss Courtenay," said he, with a most imploring look, "if I only could a.s.sure myself that in the words you have just spoken there lay one spark of hope--I mean, if I could but believe that this would be the proper moment----"

"My dear Mr. M'Kinlay, let me stop you. There are many things to be done before I can let you even finish your sentence; and mind me, Sir, this, 'without prejudice,' as you lawyers say, to my own exercise of judgment afterwards; and the first of these is to send this young man away. I own to you, frankly, he is no favourite of mine. I call ruggedness what _they_ call frankness; and his pride of name and birth are, when unattached to either fortune or position, simply insufferable. Get rid of him; send him to Arran, if he won't go to j.a.pan. _You_ can do it without inhospitality, or even awkwardness. You can hint to him that people rarely remain beyond two or three days on a visit; that his intimacy with Ada gives pain, uneasiness, to her family; that, in short, he ought to go. I know," added she, with a bewitching smile, "how little there is for me to instruct Mr. M'Kinlay on a point where tact and delicacy are the weapons to be employed. I feel all the presumption of such a pretence, and therefore I merely say, induce him to go his way, and let him do it in such guise that my brother may not suspect our interference."

"There is nothing I would not do, Miss Courtenay, with the mere possibility that you would deem it a service. All I ask is the a.s.surance----"

"Must I stop you again?" said she, with a sweet smile. "Must I remind you that he who stipulates for his reward, risks in some sort his character for generosity, and, worse still, implies a distrust of the one he serves?"

"I am your slave, Miss Courtenay--your humble slave!" said he, bowing with a deep humility.

"It is what I intend you should be," muttered she to herself; and then added aloud: "Lose no time about this; my brother mentions that he accidentally met Sir Within Wardle in the doorway of the hotel at Genoa; that they embraced most cordially, and parted with Sir Within's promise to come over and pa.s.s some days here, and I believe he may be expected to-morrow; and of course it would be more convenient to have this young man's room, all the more that Mr. Grenfell also is expected."

"I'll set about my negotiation at once."

"Don't call it negotiation, my dear Mr. M'Kinlay. It must be far more effectual and more peremptory. To present this sailor lad as an acquaintance to Sir Within would be monstrous. The pleasure of his visit will depend on his coming actually amongst all his old friends."

Ah, Mr. M'Kinlay, how your heart swelled proudly at that flattery! How exquisite it was to feel you were a member of an order to which, in your proudest day-dreams, you had not aspired!

"There, now, you have your instructions. You'll find me here about four o'clock to report progress, or rather, as I trust, to announce success."

"I have an excellent opportunity," cried M'Kinlay, as she moved away.

"He has asked me to go out fishing with him in the boat today. It will be just the time to fall into confidential discourse. At four expect me."

CHAPTER LXII. FISHING IN TROUBLED WATERS

On gaining the beach where he had appointed to meet Harry Luttrell, Mr.

M'Kinlay discovered that his young friend had gone off already, taking Ada with him. He could, indeed, detect the form of a lady in the stern of the boat, as she slipped along over the calm sea, and mark that Luttrell was seated at her side.

Here was imprudence, rashness, wilful rashness, all the more reprehensible in a man like Vyner, who knew, or ought to know, the world by this time. "How is that sailor there to remember that he is only a sailor? and how is that young heiress to call to mind that she is an heiress? Why should people ever be placed in a position in which the impossible ceases to look impossible, and even gets a look of the probable?" Such were some of the wise reflections of this sage moralist, though it is but truth to say he never once thought of applying any one of them to his own case.

"What would Miss Courtenay say, _too_," thought he, "when she discovered that he had been so neglectful of the mission entrusted to him?" He looked about for another boat to go after them. It was a strong measure, but it was a time for strong measures. No boat, however, was to be had.

He bethought him of hailing them, or trying to attract their attention by signals, and to this end he mounted a rock, and attaching his handkerchief to his umbrella, waved it frantically to and fro, screaming out, "Boat ahoy!" in a voice he meant to be intensely maritime.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 518]

"Shout away, old fellow!" muttered Harry, whose well-practised eye and ear detected the signal-maker. "I'm not going back for _you_."

"Do you sec any one, Harry?" asked Ada. "Who is it?"

"That old lawyer--I forget his name, but he's the only creature in the house that I can't bear. You wouldn't believe it, but he came up to me yesterday evening, and asked if I had any recollection of his having saved my life. But I stopped him full, for I said, 'I remember well how Captain Dodge picked me up off a spar at sea, and had to threaten to throw yourself overboard for opposing it.'"

"Well, but, Harry," said she, gently, "people don't say such unpleasant things--I mean, when they meet in the world; when thrown together in society, they forgive little grudges, if they cannot forget them."

"Don't you know that we Luttrells do neither? I can no more forget a wrong than a kindness. Mind me, though," added he, quickly, "I do not ask to clear off scores with the lawyer, only let him not claim to make me his debtor. Shout away, it will stretch your lungs for the Old Bailey, or wherever it is that you make your living."

"If your memory be as good as you say, Harry," said she, smiling, "can you recal the time papa's yacht, the _Meteor_, anch.o.r.ed in the little bay at Arran?"

"I can. I remember it all."

"And how you came on board in one of our boats?"

"Ay, and how you called me Robinson. Don't get so red; I wasn't offended then, and I'm sure I'm not now. You said it in a whisper to your father, but I overheard you; and I think I said I should like well to be Robinson Crusoe, and have an island all my own."

"And so you have. Arran is yours."

"No. Arran was mine, or ought to have been mine, but my father, believing me dead, left it to my cousin."

"Oh, how I long to see her again," cried Ada, pa.s.sionately. "You know how we were brought up together."

"Your father told me all about it; but I never well understood how or why she was sent away again. Were you disappointed in her?"

"Oh no, no. Nothing of the kind. She was cleverer, and more beautiful, and more attractive, than any one could have antic.i.p.ated. The lesson that would take me days to learn, she had but to glance at and she knew it. The governess was in despair how to keep in advance of her. And then there was a charm in her manner that made the veriest trifle she did a sort of fascination."

"And were these the traits to send back into hardship and barbarism?"

"To this very hour I never knew how or why she went back, nor to what she went. I must tell you a secret, a great secret it is, Harry, and you will promise never to reveal it." He nodded, and she went on: "Aunt Georgina never liked Kate. She could not help owning that she was very beautiful, and very gifted, and very graceful, but nothing would wring from her one word of affection, nor even a smile of kindly meaning."

"It is exactly how she treats me. She is all courtesy and politeness; but it is a courtesy that chills me to the heart, and ever seems to say, 'Don't forget the distance that separates us.' Perhaps," added he, laughing, "my cousin Kate and I have some family resemblance to each other?"

"Don't indulge any such flattery, Harry," said she, laughing. "Kate was beautiful."

"Come, come, I never meant in face. I only suspected that it was the marvellous gift of fascination we held in common." And he laughed good humouredly at his own expense. "But to be serious. Was it quite fair to send such a girl as you have described back to all the miseries and sufferings of a peasant's life?"

"I'm not sure that this was done. I mean, that after she went to live at Dalradern--for Sir Within Wardle became her guardian when we came abroad--I never knew what happened; my Aunt Georgina actually forbade the merest mention of her."

"I wonder would she tell me why, if I were to ask her." "Oh, Harry, I implore you not to do so. It would be at once to betray the confidence I have placed in you. She would know who had told you of her dislike to Kate."

"The lawyer could tell it, I'm certain," muttered Harry; "that fellow watches us all. I have marked him, as we sat in the drawing-room, studying the looks of each in turn, and pausing over chance words, as if they could mean more than they seemed to say."

"How acute you want to be thought," said she, laughing. "I have sailed in two ships where the crews mutinied, Miss Ada, and a man learns to have his wits about him where he suspects mischief, after that. There!

look at the lawyer in the boat; he has got a boat at last, and is going to give us chase. Shall we run for it, Ada, or stand and fight him?"

"What wickedness are you muttering under your breast, there, Sir?" asked she, with a mock imperiousness.

"Well, I was just saying to myself that, if you hadn't been here, I'd even run foul of him and upset us both. I'd like to see the old fellow in the water. Oh! I see I must behave well. Miss Courtenay is in the boat too!"

"Which means a reproof to me, Harry. My aunt never comes out on any less solemn mission."

"And why a reproof? What have you done?" "Have I not gone off sailing all alone with that wild scamp Harry Luttrell--that buccaneer who respects neither laws nor proprieties! But that's my aunt's voice! What is she saying?"

"She's telling the lawyer that it's all his fault, or Sir Gervais's fault, or somebody's fault, and that it's a shame and disgrace, and I don't know well what else besides."