The Riddle of the Spinning Wheel

by Thomas W. Hanshew and Mary E. Hanshew

  CHAPTER III

  THE CASTLE O' DREAMS

  To say that Cragnorth--that little unknown village of the Highlandswhich lies like an eagle's aerie upon the crest of the hills, scatteringits few dwelling-places like seed over the hillside and down into thevalley below--stood half-an-hour's distance from the station was tounderestimate the fact. For it took Cleek and Dollops and Miss Duggantwo mortal hours of driving in the station hack before they came insight of it.

  And it was just as they reached a bend in the hill-road and came outupon a deep ravine, moss-covered and still wreathed with the mists ofthe morning, that Cleek saw Aygon Castle for the first time, and feltthe whole true meaning of what it meant to these lairds of the Highlandsto live here, generation after generation, giving to their children theright of ownership in the ancestral homes; it was just then that MissDuggan turned in her seat and pointed with one arm out-thrown toward it.

  "That's the Castle. Isn't it too magnificently beautiful for words, Mr.Deland?" she said, with a suggestion of a catch in her voice at sightof it. "With those mists wreathing it about, and all its dear, gaunt,worn turrets piercing the top of the world like that! Now you canimagine how I feel toward the--the woman who would wrest all this fromRoss, take what is his rightful inheritance from him and give it to aboy who is only half a Scotsman, and with the blood of another countryrunning in his veins! Now you can understand why I came all the way toLondon to see Mr. Narkom. Look on it, Mr. Deland, and drink in itsbeauty. The sight of it is like heaven itself to me."

  Cleek did look on it to his heart's fill, and drank so deep of itsmajestic beauty as to be well-nigh intoxicated with it. The artist'ssoul of the man was afire with the chill grandeur of the place. Fromturreted towers rising through the gray mists, like the towers and theturrets of the Holy City itself, Aygon Castle was like some enchanter'spalace, like some figment of the mind's weaving in those hours ofday-dreams which lie between the dark and the day.

  To the left of it a huge watch-tower reared its monstrous head to theblue-flecked Highland sky, set atop of which stood the figure of a man,gigantic and wrought in bronze, with the plaid of the Duggans sweepingacross his shoulder and eddying out into a marvellous real billow behindhim, one huge forearm raised in the hand of which was a battle-axe,standing out black and menacing against the early morning sky.

  Cleek swept a hand out to it, while Dollops, silent up to the present,gave forth the feeling of his Cockney soul in one long-drawn "S'welpme!" of utter enthusiasm.

  "Who is the gentleman of the axe, Miss Duggan?" said Cleek, turningtoward her, his face alight with interest. "What a magnificent thing itis! And how he stands out against this Highland sky of yours--menacing,victorious, utterly sublime! Some ancestor, no doubt?"

  "_The_ ancestor. The greatest of all that great line of Duggans, or_Mac_duggans, as it was then," she responded in a hushed, exultantvoice. "Chief of the greatest and most powerful clan of all Scotland, inthose days when Scotland was a country apart, and the Scottish chiefswere little kings in their own dominion, ruling in absolute monarchyover their subjects. Rhea du Macduggan. That was his name, Mr. Deland. Agreat and powerful and just man. And when this Castle was built over thespot where his camp had been in those by-gone glorious days, theMacduggan who had it built caused that statue to be erected, and had itwrought in finest bronze, to endure throughout the centuries. You cansee for yourself how well Rhea has withstood the bludgeoning of time.And, too, you may understand a little, at sight of him, what this placemeans to my brother and me, and how loath we are even to entertain thethought of letting it get out of the family."

  "And is the estate not entailed?"

  "Unfortunately not this portion of it. That part which follows theentail comprises a couple of the adjacent villages and a lot offarmsteads out there across the valley. But the Castle--no. In oldendays each son of the family fought for it against the surviving holderof it, fought a personal battle of strength to prove himself worthy ofit, and then, upon victory--or proved worthiness--the will was made. Theline has never been broken, Mr. Deland. And to-day my brother and I areas willing to fight for it as were our ancestors of old."

  "And I don't blame you, either," said Cleek with alacrity, sighing alittle, as though some thought of all this magnificence awakened an echoin his heart that would not immediately be stilled. "I know a little ofthat feeling, too. When a man loves his ancestral home, and his country,he will fight for it and die for it rather than that an alien hand shalltake possession of either. That is the gift of Race, the inherentsomething that Family breeds in us. The clanship which belongs to an oldand unbroken line. I know--I know.... Heigho! But it is an inheritanceindeed. I am more in sympathy with you than ever before, Miss Duggan,for I, too, would fight for this against the hand of an enemy, and diefighting rather than that it should slip out of my reach.... And youmean to tell me that your brother Ross has installed electric lighting_here_?"

  She smiled a little, and nodded her head as one might smile at thoughtof some child's deliciously childish and foolish action. One could seethat she worshipped her brother.

  "Yes, Mr. Deland. A complete installation, which is both the envy andthe desire of every other landowner for miles around."

  "And why the envy, may I ask?"

  "Because the fortunes of many are lower than ours. The Duggans werealways the wealthiest clan in this part of the country. The other clanswere poor. They are still poor. And we, too, are poorer than we were.The land takes nearly all our income to wrest something from itswildness besides the heather and the stretches of gorse-covered moor. Weherd the flocks on those parts, Mr. Deland, but cultivation of the restis very difficult. It is too wild, too barren. And the other big housesare indeed envious of our wonderful lighting arrangements. It has beenthe root of much friendly quarrelling among us. But the villagers are_terrified_!"

  "I can well understand that--in this uncivilized quarter," put in Cleekwith a smile. "Many, I have no doubt, still use the old rushlight offormer days.... Ah, here is the village. My man and I had better put upat the local hotel, Miss Duggan, as a couple of fishermen-- I'll bebound your salmon is wonderful in these parts, and I for one love thesport--and then we can effect an introduction by the aid of our mutualfriend, Miss Lorne, and perhaps to-morrow I might be permitted to callupon you. How does that satisfy your mind?"

  She put out a hand to him with an impetuosity that was foreign to her.

  "It satisfies me splendidly. You are more than kind to take such aninterest. Put up at the Three Fishers, by all means, Mr. Deland. Thelandlord is a kindly soul, and will give you every attention, I know.And then, if you will be good enough, call to-morrow morning--unless Ihave to send for you before then. And if so, how shall I do that?"

  The hack drew up in front of the Inn of the Three Fishers and Cleek andDollops dismounted, the latter entering the inn with their baggage,while Cleek stood at the side of the carriage, leaning over the edge ofit to speak to its sole occupant. Beyond him, directly opposite to them,the village street broke off into a slope that led down into the valley,rock-bound and lichened over with heather-bells and the outstretchedarms of prickly gorse-bushes. While on an adjacent hill directly infront and rising out of the valley itself up a steep mountainside stoodAygon Castle, its many windows commanding a distant view of the village,and practically upon a level with it, so that some of those samewindows faced upon those of the inn, with the street and then the valleyand the hillside on which it stood between.

  Cleek waved a hand toward it now.

  "Which is your own window?" he asked softly.

  She pointed. "Fourth from the left. That tall, narrowish slit-like one.It has mullioned panes--see? There are only three others like that onthis side. The fourth from the left is mine. Why?"

  "Because," said Cleek meaningly, "if you want me, put a light in thatwindow--a red light, for preference, as at this distance it would beeasier to see. And light and re-light it three times. I shall be on thewatch. And if not I, my man Dollops. Unti
l to-morrow morning, when Ishall call. Remember--three times, if you want me, and I shall comeimmediately--in my professional guise or not, as you like. And keep upyour heart, Miss Duggan. Things may not be as black as you think. Fourthfrom the left, isn't it?"

  "Fourth from the left. How kind you are! I shall never be able to thankyou for all your interest. And I have a little disused bicycle lamp inmy cupboard. It has a red slide. I will flash that--if I need you.Good-bye."

  "Good-bye," said Cleek, smiling, and standing bareheaded in the earlymorning sunshine.

  The carriage drove on up the hill, turning at the corner and windingdown again into the valley, and from the outer wall of the street uponthe opposite side one could watch its progress as one watched themovements of a fly upon an adjacent bank. Cleek crossed the road andstopped there, head bent, arms folded upon the low stone top of thewall. Round along the tortuous hill road it went creeping along, at anincredibly slow pace it seemed from his position above it, on and on andon into the valley, and then up, up, up, the opposite hillside, throughbushes and shrubs that screened it now and again from view, and betwixtimmense boulders, until eventually it came abreast of the hugewrought-iron gates of the place and passed between them out of sight.

  And as it disappeared Cleek turned upon his heel with a deep-drawn sigh.

  "Gad! what an inheritance!" he mentally commented as he crossed the roadand entered the portals of the inn itself. "Enough to fight for, indeed!Mr. Narkom, old friend, this is one of those subtle things which yourmiddle-class upbringing could never understand. One of those thingswhich belong to the few and the chosen. Heigho! And Esau bartered hisbirthright for a mess of pottage. She'd fight for it--and so would I! Anice girl--hysterical, high-strung, but full of the pride of race. Thefourth window from the left, she said. I'll put Dollops on the job,while I snoop around a bit for myself, and see how the land lies. Minehost might possibly put me wise to a good deal, as our American cousinssay."

  So he strolled into the bar-parlour, and ordered a tankard of ale, andover it made the acquaintance of that particular specimen of ruggedScotch manhood who was for the time being to be his host.

  "Fine views in these parts," said he, conversationally, and in theman-of-the-world-tourist-idiot voice which he affected upon occasions."My man and myself want to put up here for the fishin', doncherknow. Youcan fix us in all right, I suppose?"

  "Cairtainly, sair. Therre's plainty of rume in th' Three Fishairs,"responded Mr. Fairnish, with a smile of welcome, and in that inimitableaccent which is Scotland's own, and which rings like rugged music uponthe ear of the stranger to those parts. "We've a nice bedroom facin' th'Castle. It'll be a grrand view in the mornin' wi' yer tea. And yerman--we'll find him a shake-down nearr-by, if ye so wish ut."

  Cleek liked on sight this genial host with his mellow accent.

  "Well, I'd prefer for him to be within reachin' distance of me,doncherknow," he said, with an inane grin into the red-whiskeredcountenance, blue-eyed and lined with exposure to wind and weather, thatglowed above him.

  "Cairtainly. If ye weesh it; Mrs. Fairnish will show ye yer rume, andanything ye may want----"

  Cleek raised a detaining hand.

  "Please don't be in any hurry," he said pleasantly. "I've all day herebefore me. Come down to do a bit of fishin', doncherknow. Fine sport inthese parts, they tell me. And that's Aygon Castle, is it? I know theyoung lady, Miss Duggan, slightly. Grand place it looks, to be sure."

  Mr. Fairnish raised his eyes ceilingwards. His hands followed them.

  "It's a heavenly spot indeed," he said piously, as one might speak ofsome religious place of worship. "One of the grrandest in our wholecountry, sair. You'll be visitin' there, no doubt?"

  "Oh, possibly. A friendly call, doncherknow. What's the old chap likewho owns it?"

  Mr. Fairnish cast a hurried look on either side of him. The canny Scotshowed uppermost in his visage. But the coast was clear. Only a boy often or twelve played at the other end of the bar with a roughly madeengine of wood, dragging it to and fro over the tiled floor.

  "Sair Andrew's a harrd mon--a dour, harrd mon is Sair Andrew," he saidin a low, harsh voice, and with a wrinkling of face muscles which spokevolumes. "I wudner cross his path unless I could help it. Harrd, sair,harrd as nails. And wi' a grrasp on him for every penny!"

  "Oho!" said Cleek in two different tones. "Mean, is he?"

  "Mean wi' ye call it? Mean? There's no worrd ter expraiss what SairAndrew is at all. Not in the language, sair. But he's got a fine bailiffter manage th' land, and 'tis wi' him the people deal. Not wi' SairAndrew. Mistair Tavish, now--he's a fine chap, wi' a greeat hearrt an' ahelpin' hand for aiverybody. Mistair Tavish, now, he's a gentleman,sair. Not a block er grranite, like th' old landlorrd!"

  Cleek smiled. So even in these rocky fastnesses of the silent Highlandsa man liked his bit of gossip, and loosened his tongue to pass the timeof day with every stranger.

  "Very interesting, Mr.----"

  "Fairnish, Robairt Fairnish."

  "Mr. Fairnish. And what about the rest of the family? Mean also?"

  "Aw no, sair. Not Mistair Ross, at any rate, nor Miss Duggan, either,"supplemented Mr. Fairnish, lighting his pipe with one horny hand andleaning out over the bar the better to address Cleek. "Another ale,sair?--cairtainly. Mr. Ross, now. A fine fellow, in spite of hisstrrange ways and his wonderful apparatus. He's lit th' whole Castlewith electricity, sair; and Sair Andrew has no got ovair the effect o'it yet. He does nought but grrumble and growl at Mistair Ross for th'expainse and th' noosence of it, until, so I haird, th' Castle be nopleasant spot to live in. And his wife, Lady Paula Duggan----"

  Mr. Fairnish raised his hands and eyes in a very expressive gesture.

  "You don't like the lady of the Castle, then, Mr. Fairnish?" interposedCleek, tossing off his ale and setting the empty tankard down upon thebar in front of him.

  "Like her, do ye say, sair? Like her! Show me th' pairson in th' wholedeestrict that does, and I'll tell him he's a liarr--if ye'll pardon mylanguage. There's nought in the countryside that does like her--ablack-haired, weecked foreigner like hersai'f--though ye'll no repeat myworrds, I pray, or 'twould go harrd with Robairt Fairnish when nextrrent-day comes round. But never a bairnie that has ought to say that'splaisant o' her--th' black-eyed witch-wummun! An' that's a fact. Shespeaks a heathen tongue, sair, an' I never trusts a foreigner. They'resuspeeshus characters, the best o' them."

  Cleek threw back his head and laughed--laughed heartily.

  "Well," said he, with a shake of the head, "perhaps you're right. ThoughI won't say that my experience has always been just that. However, thelady does not seem to find favour in your eyes. Mr. Ross Duggan Ihaven't met."

  "A fine upstanding gentleman, sair, wi' ne'er a mean bone in his body."

  "And Miss Duggan?"

  "A gentle, kind creature wi' a hearrt o' gold. She'd do nought to harrmanny one, sair, and I've proof o' that--bless her! Nor Miss McCall,either."

  "Miss McCall?"

  "Lady Paula's companion and handy maid, sair. A leddy, if I knaws one.Engaged to Mistair Tavish, I unnerstand--though 'tis not yet given outto the gran' folk. But the' have th' saft look in their e'e for oneanaither. And 'tis juist that it means. A puir freeted creatur' wi' ane'e fer the ghost o' the Castle. She'll have a fine mon in MistairTavish, I assure ye. And now 'tis time ye saw yer rume, sair, or I'm noa guid host ye'll ken."

  So saying, Mr. Fairnish moved away from the bar reluctantly, as onestung by duty into doing something for which he had no relish, for barand Fairnish were as synonymous as the Dawn and the Day--and almost asinseparable.

  Cleek watched him with upflung eyebrow and keen eye. Then he followed,and set a hand upon the garrulous fellow's sleeve.

  "Mr. Fairnish," he said quietly, "you've interested me immensely. My ownfellow-folk, you know--what is it that Pope says?--'The proper study ofmankind is man.' Well, it's like that with me. Perhaps I'mover-curious--there are a lot of us like that in this world. But youmenti
oned a ghostly visitant of the Castle just now. You were speakingin jest, of course?"

  An imperceptible something passed like a shadow over Mr. Fairnish'srugged face. He gave a shiver.

  "In jest ye tak eet?" he said a trifle huskily. "Weel, 'tis in airnestthat I spoke. For nevair a step near the grounds will ought o' th'countryside go at night. 'Tis a lang story, and I've no time to betellin' it thee noo, sair, but here's a leetle. 'Tis a peasant-gairlthat a Sair Andrew of the sixteenth century, I ken, abducted from herpropair parents (they lived in the Lowlands, so I've heard tell), andbrought to th' castle and locked up--for his ain pleasure! 'Tis a sorrytale, for the puir maid deed o' a broken hearrt an' a broken speerit,too, I tak' it, nigh on to twelve months latair, wi' a leetle one juistcome ter gladden her sore hearrt."

  "Indeed? And what became of the child, then?"

  "No one knaws. 'Twas said 'twas stealed at night by the granfer andspeerited awa'. And 'twas said th' de'il himsaif cam' an' claimed eet.No one knaws that parrt o' th' story, but there's a mony who says theydu. Only the peasant-gairl hersaif haunts the Castle tu this day, sair,and stalks th' whole place over from top tu bottom, an' inside and out,a-lukin' fer her sheel."

  "Poor girl!" There was genuine sympathy in Cleek's low-toned voice, andat sound of it Mr. Fairnish spun round and looked at him, his own facebrightening.

  "Then ye believe in eet?" he said. "Fer yer voice tells me so. And sodu I--an' aiverybody in these parrts. And wi' a mon so harrd as SairAndrew as laird, ye ken what a puir time the gel must have had longago--wi' another of 'em th' same. You're a sympathetic gentleman athearrt, sair, I knew it on sight uf ye, so ye'll be takin' a worrd ofadvice from me, and no be out in the grounds at nicht, when there's nomune. 'Tis said she twists the neck of every man she sees at nicht-timein the grounds after dark, as a revenge for what she suffered at thehands of one. Ugh! but it's a sorry tale and no prettier fer thetelling, I ken.... If ye come this way, sair, I'll introduce ye to myain leddy, and she'll tak' unco' care o' ye."

  "Thanks."

  Cleek swung into step behind him and mounted the wide shallow oak stairsof the place to the tune of Mr. Fairnish's deep-pitched voice callingfor "Mary! Mary!" In the fullness of time "Mary" appeared, and resolvedherself into a buxom, high-bosomed, rosy-cheeked Highland lass, whom Mr.Fairnish had taken to wife (the second for him) last January. Sheappeared almost as garrulous as her husband, and while she showed Cleekhis room--a long, low-ceiled bedroom overlooking the Castle and withwindows across one end of it--she regaled him with tid-bits of gossip ofneighbouring parts, and incidentally added to his already plentifullyfilled store of knowledge of the "Castle-folk" the fact that MissDuggan herself was secretly engaged to a Captain Macdonald--one of thepoorest land-owners of those parts--who, because of his poverty, wasforbidden the house by Sir Andrew, and promptly sent about his business.

  "A harrd mon," she said, as her husband had done, standing in the frameof the open doorway with arms akimbo, and looking the true Scots lassieshe undoubtedly was. "And sich a nice gentleman, tu--that CaptainMacdonald. Reel gentry, Mr. Deland, sair. I've often thocht what a peetyit was tu see 'em pulled apart like thaat. Ye'll be wanting some hotwater, sair, I ken."

  "Thanks. I'd like some, certainly. And my man----"

  "He's made himself at home already," she responded, beaming at him. "Andhe's in my keetchen th' noo, eatin' an airly lunch. He towld me ye'dcome fer the fishin', sair. We've a-mony come fer that to these parrts.That'll be all, I tak' it?"

  "That'll be all."

  At which the good woman withdrew her tongue and herself, and left Cleeka trifle dazed by the positive fount of garrulity at which he had beendrinking this past half-hour, and a good deal interested in theCastle-folk to boot.

  He walked to the window and stood looking out of it at the magnificenceof Aygon Castle that rose like some dream-palace before his admiringeyes. And as he looked he counted the windows across that part of thebuilding which faced upon the village.

  The fourth from the left. Well, she'd possibly never need to signal, andyet--one never knew. And there was a ghost, too, and a horny-fisted andhard-hearted landlord, just as the penny novelettes would have had it.Quite interesting; quite. But the arrival of hot water set every otherthought but that of cleanliness out of his head, and he gave himself upto his ablutions like a schoolboy on holiday.