THE LAIRD O' GLENMUSK.

Press, Volume LX, Issue 11501, 6 February 1903, Page 2

THE LAIRD O' GLENMUSK.

Br LiECT.-Cou JUourtr Ramamv, D.3.0. ( Author of " Oodo »nd I," «:.) Wildly and wehxlly do the storm wares beat around the r<tcky coasta of £be Nortih of Scotland in tho winter time, aiid upon CO part, of the northern shores do they hurl themselves moie furiously and more grand* ly than upon the cliffs of Sutherlandshire. It is a country 'vhich would, in that inclement season,"seem, to a stranger, suddenly transplanted thither from some more genial clime, to bu ft land of uncanny beings more than a land of men. One would expect to find in its heathery wilds, its mountain recedes. Gnomes and Brownies .alone, the Gnomes who exercise baleful influences upon th* lives of men and cattle—the little Brownies "who are sometimes { beneficent. sometinr.«s malevolent, just as the mood of the moment may suit them. There are in Sutherlandshire wild mouai iainous districts where nought is heard save the piercing cry of the golden eagle—deep corries within whcee shade the red deer, even in these davsi of steam engines and electricity, roam *a:t freely a.s in the days of the Picts ami Scots. Rivers there are, falling with tumultuous roar from rocky waterfall to rocky waterfall, upon whose brink none but the Highland shepherd ever wanders, and that only in summer time. la -winter, so untenanted are the remoter mountain glens, the lordly salmon can ppavra upon the gravelly caches of the streams unmolested -by the poacher with the gtlf. who would quickly turn them into kipjiers in more frequented district*. It is {l tand of grouse, of black game, of woodcock and wild duck. The home it is too in the lower grounds of the rnedeer in the birch-brakes. There, hidden among the old overgroAvn heather and the brackens, its sense of sight and sceut, its .swiftness of foot surely protect the most graceful of our deer-tribe from all its natural emuu"<:-.«, a.-ivo only the red fox which preys upon its young. For all the wildnf.-s of nature in th:.«t northern-most part of Great Britain, thore are in Sutherland*!] ie also, nestling upon its mountain slopes and hidden under the ►helter of its pine many a. snug little farm, many a sm:iil crofter's cottage; beneath whose roof-treee, half-obscured in winter time by the i-eck of fragrant pmoke from the glowing j.eat firw, exist many families of sturdy Strong are the men, comely are the "women. Free and independent are they also, save that they owe allegiance to the head of their dan—to whom that feudal boud has bcon from generation to generation ii matter of tradition. There were many such upon the lands of Glenmius'i, and they all owned allegiance to the grim old Chieftain, who dwelt in a castle surrounded by dark pine ivoods upon the ocean's brink.

The Laird o' Glenmusk lived in a nigged old castlo as grey ami grizsled as himself. He owned thousands of acres of heatherclad mountain, upon which many miserable crofters oked out a penurious existence. For although the Laird, Sir Ronald I McHughie, was the descendant of a generous ancestry, 'he was himself the most stingy and unfeeling of mortals. Vainly would the hard-working Highland farmer, or tho wretched widovr with a large family approach him, as winser drew nigh, to represent that ilwir houses were unfit to live in, that tiheir cattle would perish with cold in their dilapidated byres, he would turn a deaf ear to their complaints. And this, too, although nearly all of his tenantry belonged to his own clan, of which he -was tihe Churf, although they all, like himself, bore the ancient and honoured name of McHughie. The answer that the/ would receive from their Chieftain would idmost always be the same: "If the lands of Glenmusk were not good enough for them, as they had been for their forefathers, -yell, the world .was wide, they could ,go elsewhere." And woe betide the wretched cotter wiho failed to pay his rent for more than ono or two terms. Out he had fo go, and the wild red deer roamed over the land where he had erstwhile grazed liis cheep, while the old Iblack cock and the grouse .perched triumphantly and crowed upon the wall surrounding the few acres of arable land, reclaimed by so many years of toil from tbn surrounding moor. Ay! and the plot oi! arable kad itself, vihereon had stood tie stooks of oats, which mipplied the poor crofter with his oat cake, bannocks, and meal for porridge, soon went buck to heather again. Thus in a few years nothing remained but a mossgrown tumble-down roof, a few grey stones nnd broken bits of pottery, to show wihere had once been >fche habitation of man.

Meanwhile the brawling trout burn, wherein the bare-legged, healthy children h.*d been wont to "guddle ihe txoots," rippled by the deserted homestead as merrily as ever. But mo fisher, n<> man or boy with a ny rod or a bait hook, ever dared to disturb the speckled beauties in its rippling rapids and rocky pcofr. For woe betide the poacher of fish, flciih, or fowl on the broad lands of the Laird o' Glemnuskl Not only was he broiigiht up before the magistrates, the Ohairnwui of whom was the terrible Laird himself, and severely fined; but such vengeance was meted out in one way or another to his family by his all-powerful Chief as to make the very name of rod or gun distasteful to iihe delinquent for ever after. Nor would the Laird ever accord to ije neighbours the privileges of fishing or shooting. It was not that the grey and [jrisly Chieftain of the McHughie clan wished, by letting 'his moors or streams, to make money by them; no, that ihe would never do—he could not, to us* his oira language, "abide the sight of a stranger" anywhere upon his broad domain of moor and mountain— nor was it because the old man was, as indeed lie had been in his youth, an ardent sportsman himself that he was so tenacious of his rights; trince a day or two in the year with his gun upon one of his moors, or a day or two -with a salmon rod in the best of his streams was the extent of his sporting nowadays. It was rather the result of an innate selfishness in the ; old man's nature, a selfishness which denied to others the enjoyment of those good things—those rights—which he did not choose to exercise himself. Glenmusk, as in the Scotch way they called the Laird after his place, was also possessed of a kind of humour, which humour oftentimes took Ihe line of trying to get the Ibetter of other people, of taking a keen delight in not allowing other people ever to obtain the advantage ove» him. And in thia he was" usually successful. There was, however, on 3 way, and only one, in which those w3io wished for a favour from the Laird were sometimes enabled to obtain it. This irae by taking advantage of another great failing wihich Glenmiusk possessed in addition to his meanness. This other tailing was drink. Now, although the awJestral cellars of the Castle of Glenmuck vere amply etored with many a rich and costly vintage, the Laird did not care to indulge in h.is failing at ihome or to drink at his own expense. Ho could not bear to csnvck .an old bottle of crusty port with a friend, or share a flask of the almost priceless Imperial Tokay from his cellars with a neighbour. He j&ked to know that he possessed these treasures indeed, and it delighted him to think that no one, in his lifetime at all events, •would ever get the opportunity of sharing them. No, nor would he sell so much, as a cringle bottle to that great adjoining land" owner, the Duke of the Hebrides, upon the occasion of the marriage of his Grace's daughter. j

This was aU the harder, because the two families li&d been closely allied for generations back, and it had formerly ever been the custom for a bottle of the rare old trine from the Glenmnsk <*llars to be presented, for the purpose of drinking tihe bride's health, when a daughter of the ducal family was given in marriage. The Laird o' Glenmusk, however, did not believe in keeping up what he considered as foolieh customs, moreover it delighted him to know tbat he possessed something that his Grace could not obtain. He made his refusal therefore the eubject of many a jest at hie Grace's expense when in hie cape. Another reason why GlfnmuJtk did not drink his own wines was tint h<? greatly preferred old Scotch whisker, but be likewise preferred others m pay for it, and he had various means cf others to do «o. First and foremost he would repair to fhe old hotel situated v\on his propsrty known as the Glesmncfc Arm*. E«re kc

would drink dram after dram but »w pay a etiwr. In vain would Alexand* McAlexander, the landlord of the inn, wl was hie tenant, represent from time to ten that th«re was "a gey long account owing. The old men would eimply reply with twinkle in his grey eye, "Oh J ay, Sandy m lad, it'a likely there will be, weel, yell jia have to remind me of it next rent 9ay &n maybe I'll settle jt." But when rent da crm* it never was eettled; for the trad was too good at the Gl*mnusk Anne fo the landlord ever to dare to risk offendin the Laird, and thue run the chence of lo*in the house, which he merely held on a year!

tenancy. Another reason for Alexander McAlexan. der's not insisting waa that he owed a great deal of his custom to ihe constant presence of the Laird upon his premises. For, ?* the' Laird came there to drink at other people's expense, there were other people who used to r&ort to the same hostelry for the purpose of treating tbe Laird." It was well-known that the only time to obtain any concession from, or to get any bill paid by, Sir Ronald MeHughie'was when he was absolutely tipsy— but it took a great deal to make him tipey, and it was only on rare occasions that he could bo said to become so. On such rare

occasions, however, the old man would make promisee of concessions freely to his tenants, and, provided that they had been made in writing, he would religioufllv redeem them when sober, ho would then alpo give cheques to all to whom ne owed them. Even occasionally, a very email one, to Sandy McAlexarider himself. Hβ always became good-natured at ««ch times, but well knowing his own weakness, he was usually cunning enough not to take more than his unusually strong head could stand, which was fur more than most people. It was tliereforc usually those who would assemble together to meet the Laird, and treai. him, who would become "fou" firrt. Whereupon old Glenmusk would n*e majestically, and stalk without the slightest deviation in hie gait to the door, where moro often than not. hi« unfortunate daughter sat awaiting him in a dogcart. The Laird o' Glenmusk possessed but one daughter—Margaret McHughie. Originally a very handsome and high-spirited girl, she had early committed the indiscretion of trying to withstand her father and to oppose hi« will. Time after time had she foolishly endeavoured to assert herself and to have her own way. Time after time had she •faifcd, until at length she had become utterly broken in the process. During her mother's lifetime she had some support in the housenold. But even as the Laird had crushed her mother's spirit of opposition, to, after her mother's death, had he iitteTly annihilated any spark of the rebellious nature in his daughter Margaret. The last blow had been when he had nipped in the

bud an attempt which she had made to marry, against his will, the man of her choice. She was now, poor thing, no longer young, and utterly listless and broken-Bearted. She did not. care in the least what became of h*r. but was just a tool to her iron-fisted father's will. Thus when he would bid her to accompany him, when he drove down to tho Glenmusk Arms, she did so without a murmur, although it was one of the Laird's wishes with which in days gone by she would indignantly refuse to comply. Holding the reins of the rough shaggy cob, as patient as hereelf, Miss McHughie would sit there uncomplainingly before the hotel door hoar after hour, while her father, whom she kuew had not the slighter epark of affection for her, was drinking within. She was now dead to shame, fihe did noj care where she was nor what became ol her; so she just eat there in the dogcart like a statue, faintly acknowledging with an inclination of the head the salutations of those who, coming in or out, respectfully saluted the Laird's daughter, while pitying her. Inwardly the unhappy Margaret" knew she had not long to live, so what did it matter—what did anything matter? And eho coughed a little from time to time, and there was a red tinge upon her pocket iandkerchief. Tiut sbe said nothing about it to her brutal father. Among all those who in one capacity or another resided upon the -vast estates of Sir Bonald McHughie, there was one man who could boaiffc that not only was he not afraid of the Laird but that he had

got the better of him" in a bargain. This man was Peter Mclnnes McHughi©, the carpenter and forester. His nature waa ju?t as hard, and he was just a« grasping and selfish as Glenmusk Hmself, but hie knew that he was indispensable to the Laird for the management of the vast woods, of the timber of which there was an enormous quantity. And, rail and ptorm at him as he might and did, the Laird himself knew also that 3ia was indispensable. Peter Mclnnes McHughie always gob highly and regularly paid l for services rendered in connection with the woode; for the selling of the timber was in his own hands and he took care to pay himself; but he never got paid for any otiner jobs about Glenmusk, such aa putting up railings and gates wititoat a deal of cavilling and storming on tih* part of Sir Ronald. The way in which tie canny carpenter and foreeter had got the better of hie employer was as follows: — When Lady McHughie had died the Laird hod instantly repaired to tihe Glenmusk Arms whtn, having drunk more than usual, he had signed a premise to pay £40 for a coffin for his wife, the coffin to be made by thw forester from timber off the Laird's estate. The Laird, having signed, had paid, but he ibad been furious ever

since at Hi* imposition, while Mclnnes had been proportionately jubilant. Now it happened that one snowy Christmas Day Mclnoes McHughie had gone -up to the Castle to see about some'little job that required attending to. .For in the Highlands Christmas Day is not reckoned as different from aoy othei day, although latterly, in Edinburgh and oraer big Scotch towns, it is coming year after year more into observance os in England, It befel that while the carpenter was on the premises that Christmae morn and while he was busy with the Laird, a servant came running up with a doleful and alarmed expression.

"Speak woman! what is it?" said Sir Ronald impatiently. "Oh! Glenmusk!— Miss McHughie! Mies McHughie!" "Weel, what about Miss McHughie? She didna come down to breakfast I know— will she no V» down to lunch cither? Yell just oblige me by telling Mies McIFughie that she'd better bestir hersel' Now be off." "Oh! G'enmusk. I canna tell he that, I canna tell her that!" And the woman commenced sobbing. "What for can you no tell her that, you daft fule?" quoth the Laird furiously. "I canna tell her, Glenmusk, because she's deid! She juet died the noo in my pair arme." And the maid sobbed more bit&erly than before. "Deid is she—deid—an' a quid riddance," was the unfeeling father's sole remark. Then, turning to the carpenter with a sly look in the corner of his eye, "It'll b« just ten poun' for the funeral this tame Peter ye ken, nae mair—a fine jab for ye too at the price; funerals axe nae eac plenty now-ard»ye. I'll find ye the wood." "Nal na! Glenmuek, look a>fc tie weather an* the hard frost coming on; I canna do it, it'll be fifty poun , this time not ten—joost fifty." "Fifty poun'! ,, roared the Laird. "Fiftvpoun' to make a coffin for a slip of a •woman like yon. *' And there'll be the funeral expenses forbye. Man; you're daft, plain datt and crazy. 11l gie ihe job tall I

another man." "Yβ canna do it, Laird," replied the carpenter unmoved. 'Tβ ken weel,"Glenmuek, there's na, anither man to measure the corpse- this eide o' Bonar Bridge, fourteen roUeB away, let alone bringing oot coffin in the ena'. Yell be bom' to gie me ma fifty poun , or yo , canna bury her ava!" And Ihe grinned • triumphantiy. "No, na, I tell you, Peter, I'll no pay mair nor ten .poun' if I have to mat , her coffin myeeT." And shaJriag his. stick furiously at tlie carpenter tno old man looked as if Be could murder him. "Maybe, Gleamusk, yell change your arm' and gie me a bit writia , this afternoon," retorted tihe unabashed carpenter. "Yell likely "be drinking (heavily tie nichl an' guld tempered," "Maybe I will, maybe I will, Peter," replied the Laird, as a cunning but now apparently good-natured smile overspread his rugged features, "but now we'll gang an' see the stables." When the Laird had gob Mclnnos Me Hughie into the vtable* be asked ihim to examine the cornbin, Wthibh was in a little room or outhouse leading out of the har-ness-room, and of wiich Vb» key waa in tihe door, a massive one of oak, while there were bars on the window. No sooner was Peter leaning over the coraWn than the old man whipped back into the harness-room—banged the door, locked it, and put tie big key in his pocket, at the same time calling out derisively. "Oh! ay, maybe ye'Jl get that bit writiii , the nioht, and maybe Peter ye.l get that fifty poun' forbye, but I'm thinking, lad, that maybe yo'll freeze stiff enough to be a corpse yersel' ere ever yell get the better a second time o' the Laird o' Glennrask."'

Shouting ironical laughter, the old fiend left the carpenter to hie fate despite hie cries. Then he ordered the dogcart to be got ready and selected in the harness-room some strong straps, which he told the groom to bring round with "tihe machine" when ready. Entering the Castle, Sir Ronald ordered, in a dreadful tone which would admit no denial, the ma-ids to dress up his daughter's corpse in a black dress , and warm jacket, and to put on her boots and her hat with a thick double veil. When this was done he commanded them j to bring her downstairs. Tremblingly the j terrified females went to obey this awful behest. When his daughter's corpse had been brought down, without the slightest show of feeling the cold-blooded old tyrant himself assisted to strap poor Margaret Me-

Hughie'a scarcely cold body firmly ia «,-J sitting position in her uoual place ia ft« j»j dogcart. > % Taking hold of the reins, lie turned,W;3 fore leaving witli a dreadful threat t»tiji'|j groom that h« would strangle htm released the carpenter before his and then drove off. It was heavily when he reached the door of tijfi Glenmusk Anns. Leaving the rein wsl though they were in his daughter* fc*w|f he entered. For he well knew the ejfe would never move from the door «(m| id was accustomed to stand, hour hour, day after day. Sitting by the glow of the warm IjrS; where he could plainly see hie linfiiililiiii 'jjf daughter's rtiffening form against tie window, he bade bring him a drink. Tie man noti«i?W-i| also as he served tlie Laird. *isti ''th! "A cold day, Glenmusk. I ccc Miss McHughie with yon, maybei'A»H«ffl Irs cold ootside; will I no t*k' a drink?" s ''r v -vb

"Ah, Sandy, it'«~g«y cold, but theilj Miss McHughie will *no tak' does nd, feel tie cold. I&'<VlH An hour later, when the black forta fl&fsl side had become quite white with iowr,S the host, who had made several vai&ij&pl tempts to get to the door and leai%'§fi| Laird, nearly succeeded in doing » wlt&.*||| hot beaker of brandy and water hand. ' , y. t '-. -'",s& "Where are ye goin'?" roared th« 1(10$$ angrily. "Sit down man—«it down." ■ "$& "Na, I'll no eft down, Oleomu 1 plied the hitherto submissive "I ken fine that Miss MoHoghie wAijmt'M in tbe sna' will be perished wi'JcoU%li*/i wantin , a hot drink an' 111 tak , it till kxM for a , ye'r sturmin , ." .■ f^ "Bit down man. I tell ye that i3m*j§ that Mien McHughie does not" drink. Noo will that content j "Losh be here! Laird, and you, sittin' there in the thai Miss MoHughie <foe na we*'* ■' drink?" f .\& "I know she does na want cause ebe'e deid!" xv';' H (< "Deid!" said the horrified Buift)lg|

"Ay. deid! She died the mom, ao&J!jpi [ driving her corpse into Boner Bridjjf'jpK be fitted; to be even vri' yon domed Peter Mclnnee, who had the eff»ntiery;tt|J| ask me fifty poun , for hee ooffin. ,, m *sgsi Before the terrified innkeeper <*aldt»i : ewer, the Laird dashed out of i got into the dog cart, and drove of!»lijw | the gloom of approaching night. t :B&ft i morning he and the horse were 6Wftp§Q§i frozen to death in a enow daughter's body still b«md(> him. ipMi wan fh« ooldeet night for many a yMpKj Scotland, the thermometer falling zero. The unfortunate Peter ittpgjmm discovered next morning more- i alive, when, , the ntnra having I the jueb retribution vrhioii had I th<s Larrf, the people at the CWpS|§|l length dared to break tie door He -was indeed incapacitated.for for a long time. Thus the old Laird had oontrirerf to get the of hn avaricious foi-etter eren in of his death. For it tfos the man village of Bonar Bridge after all, only made the coffin for Mise but also for the Laird o' GltimvskJp^WM

Cholera Infantum sboifld bo gu*wi§ilj against, acd prevented by <*e ß tu>e.iJHH§ , child at the fir jnutu&l looeeneet bowels. Mothers can not be too about thie, especially in hot weather. $£$ipij should hare medicine ready for *ucb?ijM|ffijl emergency. No better remedy is pared than Ghnmberlain's Colic, tmd Diarriiroa Remedy. Every boufl6aHSgi|jfl should have a bottle at hand. to-day. It may nave a life. All dedefi|||l Price", Is 6d and 3s. Wallace and GKggPI Triangles selle it. %^M|