Path of the Tiger

by J M Hemmings

  ‘Hippopotami, thank you Mikey,’ William interrupted with a swift grin and a wink, prompting a chuckle from all of them. Michael, however, continued with his speech.

  ‘Hippopotamuses, hippopotami, it doesnae matter does it? The point is, there are vast areas ay the world, filled wi’ incredible wonders, wonders the likes ay us lads ha’ ne’er seen! Think how bloody marvellous it would be tae see such places wi’ our very own eyes! Think ay tha’, lads, think ay tha’!’

  ‘Oh, I dunnae about tha’ mysel’,’ Andrew said. ‘I’m rather content in the Highlands. I ca’ dae my drawings an’ paintings—’

  ‘Which you’ve got tae start sellin’, boyo, you have tae!’ William exclaimed. ‘They’re tha’ good Andy, they truly are, Aurora hersel’ has told me this, many times, an’ I dare say she’s rather emphatic about it. She says you’ve got more talent in your wee pinkie finger than most ay her peers at the academy ha’ in their whole bodies. And tha’, boyo, tha’ is sayin’ a lot, as my girlie has seen some ay the finest artists in all ay Britain.’

  Andrew blushed, the creases in his cheeks deepening into a shy smile.

  ‘Thank you Will, you an’ your lovely lass are way too kind. But tae get back tae m’ point, well, maybe you’re up fir seein’ the world Mikey, but as fir me, I’m happy out here. I love workin’ wi’ the horses, I really dae. An’ Sir MacTaggart, well, he asks a hard day’s labour ay us, but in return he’s given us an education, an’ allows us enough freedom tae pursue our own interests as well. He’s been such a wonderful employer tae us. I’m sure we can all agree tha’ he’s been almost like a father tae us lads, has he no’?’

  ‘Three cheers fir our lovely employer, Sir Gordon MacTaggart!’ William shouted.

  All four of them bellowed a chorus of ‘hurrahs’ into the night, and a few moments after that a window from a farm cottage fifty yards up the road opened, and a furious man inside bellowed at them.

  ‘Oy! Take your bleedin’ carousin’ elsewhere, you drunken louts!’

  The men all laughed and stumbled off at a jog. When they had slowed down from their impromptu flight, Michael draped his arms around William and Paul’s shoulders, and pulled them in for a quick, tight hug.

  ‘My, my, I am blessed tae call such fine gents as you lot my brothers. Brothers we are, lads, brothers we are, an’ always we shall be.’

  ‘I dunnae think such a fine company ay men has e’er walked the earth,’ William declared, with a genuine love for his friends aglow in his eyes, which burned like coals in the night. ‘No sir, I dunnae believe a finer company ay lads has e’er set foot upon God’s green earth.’

  ‘We’re the emperors ay all the Highlands, we are!’ Paul cried. ‘Aye! We’re true kings among men!’

  Andrew, who had been trailing behind the three of them and staring up in silent awe at the celestial glory of the starry sky above, also added his two cents to the conversation.

  ‘Lads,’ he ventured in his soft-spoken tone of voice, ‘if one was tae measure a man’s wealth no’ in gold but in the quality ay the company he keeps, an’ the joy he takes in friendship an’ the simple pleasures ay life, well, I dare say we four lads would be the richest four fellows in the whole wide world.’

  They all shouted one last ‘hurrah’, and then, laughing boisterously, they sprinted away when they saw a lamp flaring up inside the stone cottage down the lane.

  It was an hour later, soon after they passed through the two great oak trees that marked the entrance to the grounds of Sir MacTaggart’s estate, that they realised that something was wrong. Although it was almost one in the morning, a number of lamps were burning in the main house, and they could see the silhouettes of people standing and talking outside, holding candles and torch brands.

  ‘What’s this now?’ Michael asked, his voice sharp with an edge of worry.

  ‘Come lads, hurry, let’s go an’ see!’ Paul urged as he took off at a run down the mile-long, tree-lined lane that led to the front entrance to the house.

  All of them ran after Paul, their hearts pounding, for a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong was growing in nauseating intensity with every step they took towards the house.

  As they reached the lawn, with its fountains, statues, sculpted shrubs and rose gardens, they came across the plump old cook, Mrs Clark, weeping and embracing her daughter Mildred, who was one of the servants. William hurried over to the pair of them. Mildred turned to face him, and he saw in the writhing firelight that her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks wet with a wash of tears.

  ‘Milly! Mrs Clark! What’s happened here?!’ William asked anxiously.

  ‘It’s, it’s, it’s the master, young Will,’ Mrs Clark sobbed.

  ‘Sir MacTaggart?’

  ‘A-, aye.’

  ‘What’s wrong? Has he taken ill?’

  ‘He’s … he’s…’ the old woman gasped.

  ‘He’s dead,’ Mildred interjected hoarsely, sobbing and sniffing as she said it. ‘Right after I s-, served him his nightcap ay wh-, whiskey. He had a wee dram, then smiled, s-, s-, stood up, asked me t-, tae clear up his writin’ desk … an’ then, out ay the blue, he just gasped, clutched at his ch-, chest, an’ promptly fell tae the floor. I ran downstairs tae send out a rider tae get the village doctor, but b-, by the time the good physician arrived, Sir MacTaggart was … was gone.’

  William felt as if he’d just been thumped by a vicious blow from a warrior’s mace; his knees felt as if they were about to buckle beneath him, and his head started to swim. It seemed as if the realm of the real had shifted abruptly and without warning into that of dreams, for all the lights and shadows seemed to be stretching and distorting and melting into indefinable and indistinct shapes and colours. Somehow, pushing through the surreality of it all, William stumbled over to his friends, his eyes wide, his limbs numb and his extremities tingling.

  ‘Will, what’s happened?! What’s going on?!’ Michael asked, his voice hoarse.

  ‘It’s Sir MacTaggart, lads,’ William managed to murmur through the shock of it all. ‘He’s … dead.’

  23

  WILLIAM

  September 1853. A village tavern near the MacTaggart Estate

  Michael almost dropped his tankard of ale when William repeated what he had just told him. He wiped the foam off his dense beard with the back of his heavily freckled hand and stared intently at William.

  ‘Will, just … say it again one more time.’

  ‘I’m going tae ask her tae marry me,’ William declared calmly. ‘I want Aurora tae be my wife.’

  ‘Crikey! You did just say tha’!’ Michael spluttered. All of a sudden he sprang to his feet and smashed his earthenware tankard on the stone floor of the pub, causing the other patrons to turn and stare – some with looks of surprise on their face, some with scowls of anger – at William and his friends through the candlelit gloom.

  ‘You’ll pay fir tha’, an’ twice what it’s worth,’ the elderly, red-nosed barkeep grumbled from behind the counter.

  Michael didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around William in a powerful bear hug, lifting him off his feet in a sprightly outburst of joy.

  ‘You cheeky bastard!’ he roared jovially. ‘You cheeky wee bastard! I know she’ll accept, I just know it! I’m so bloody happy fir you! Let’s drink tae this!’

  ‘Aye! Four more pints please barkeep, fir my lads!’ shouted William, who was now also possessed of Michael’s mad enthusiasm and effervescent glee.

  Paul and Andrew, however, remained seated, and, as was usually the case, Paul spoke while Andrew remained nestled in his cocoon of reticence.

  ‘Mikey hold on, hold on there. I dunnae mean tae dampen your joy, but Will, have you really thought about this? I mean, have you truly considered the implications ay what you’re planning tae dae? An’ what’s more, ha’ you forgotten tha’ we’re all out ay jobs come the end ay this month?’

  ‘I’ve no’ forgotten,’ William answered. ‘Wi’ Sir MacTaggart’s passing an
’ the sale ay the estate, we’re all soon tae be unemployed, wi’ no roof o’er our heads. But we’ve all got ourselves a wee bit ay coin saved up, have we no’? And aye, I have thought about my marriage proposal. Y’see lads, what it comes down tae is this: Aurora an’ me are like one person. I feel whole when I’m wi’ her, and she feels tha’ when she’s with me. I dunnae if you ken what I’m on about, but I can tell you: I’ve ne’er felt like this with anyone in m’ life before.’

  ‘I’m no’ questioning yer love fir one another,’ Paul countered, with a glint of sadness shining in his eyes. ‘I’m talking about the fact that well, she’s nobility, an’ you’re…’

  William sighed, his posture drooping as he answered, his buoyant tone deflating with an almost audible hiss as it gave way to defeated resignation.

  ‘A stable hand. Aye, aye, I know, I know. We’re all nowt but stable boys, are we no’, lads?’ he muttered.

  ‘Nowt but the best bloody stable hands in the Highlands!’ roared Michael, who was already well on his way to inebriation.

  ‘It’s ay no consequence how good a stable boy you are or are no’, ne’er even mindin’ the fact tha’ we’re soon tae be out-ay’-work stable boys, livin’ on the road. We’re finished here, whether we like it or no’,’ Paul continued, his countenance grim and severe. ‘Will, ha’ you realised tha’ Aurora’s father would flay you alive if he knew about you, an’ what you were planning? Aurora’s got no say in the matter, Will. I’m sure she wants it as much as you dae, but there’s no chance ay it. I’m sorry boyo, but surely you must ha’ seen this?’

  ‘Stop wi’ your bloody whinging, Paul,’ Michael growled through his half-drunkenness. ‘Crikey, our best friend is going tae marry the lass ay his dreams, an’ you’ve got tae go an’ be negative about it. Bollocks tae you!’

  Paul rolled his eyes and twisted his mouth into a grimace of frustration.

  ‘I’m no’ tryin’ tae be negative, I’m just tellin’ the truth, Mikey. You know it as well as any of us. Lord Wallace will no’ have his only daughter marryin’ a stable boy. Especially a jobless, homeless stable boy! It doesnae matter a jot how deeply they care fir one another, because fir these aristocrat toffs, it’s no’ about love or happiness or nowt like tha’ at all! It’s about harvesting power, making alliances wi’ other well-connected folk, an’ keeping their damned family trees pure an’ all ay tha’. Can you no’ see that, clear an’ plain as day?’

  Michael spat out a mouthful of ale onto the straw beneath his feet.

  ‘Pish tae your “truth”, Pauly!’ he snarled. ‘Why—’

  ‘No, he’s right,’ William sighed, interrupting Michael. ‘I know tha’ the auld bastard will ne’er ha’ his daughter marrying the likes ay me. There’s no’ a chance in hell.’

  ‘I’m sorry Will,’ Paul said in a consolatory tone, draping a sympathetic arm over his friend’s shoulder. ‘It’s the way ay the world. There’s them lords an’ ladies an’ kings an’ queens at the top, an’ then, well, then there’s the rest ay us way down below. We cannae all be kings an’ queens, as much as we’d want tae be.’

  ‘Bah! Pish!’ Michael bellowed with brash defiance. ‘Our Will loves the lass wi’ all his bleedin’ heart an’ soul! It’s no’ up tae tha’ stuffy auld codger tae deny him happiness wi’ the woman he loves!’

  ‘He’s a stable hand, fir God’s sake!’ Paul countered, his temper rising along with his frustration with Michael. ‘We’re all stable hands! An’ what’s more, we’re all tae be homeless an’ unemployed! Can you no’ get these facts through your skull, boyo? What chance does a vagabond have at marryin’ a nobleman’s daughter, Mikey? Tell me tha’, what chance does he honestly have?’

  ‘Tha’ doesnae matter!’ Michael roared, spitting out a spray of ale. ‘What’s more than tha’, we’re all men, by Jove! We’re no’ animals, no’ slaves, an’ all men are equal under the eyes ay’ God above! Is tha’ no’ the ultimate truth ay the matter?’

  Paul scowled, shook his head and folded his arms across his chest.

  ‘That’s a right romantic ideal Mikey, but we all know it disnae work tha’ way in the real world.’

  William slammed a fist onto the rough-cut oaken table.

  ‘We’ll elope then! Aurora an’ I, we’ll steal away in the dead ay night an’, an’ … we’ll make our way tae the New World an’ find our fortunes there! After all, what work are we gonnae find here in the Highlands once we leave Sir MacTaggart’s estate? Work’s getting’ harder an’ harder tae find in these parts. An’ I dunnae about you lot, but I dunnae like the prospect ay movin’ tae a city tae work in a factory fir fourteen or fifteen hours a day, every day … or goin’ down the coal mines, which would be even harsher. An’ wha’ other prospects exist fir men like us? Aye, we ca’ read an’ write, but we’ve got little real schooling, no family, no connections, no real money saved. What else is there fir us here but coal mines or factories? No … I refuse tae give in tae such a fate. We’ll elope, Aurora an’ I, an’ find freedom an’ wealth in America.’

  ‘That’s the spirit, laddie!’ Michael cried. ‘And by Jove I’ll help you pack and escape, as much as it’ll pain me tae see ma’ best boyo leave fir the New World.’

  ‘Ye can all come wi’ us!’ William cried, throwing one arm around Michael and one around Paul, possessed of an ebullient optimism. ‘We can all sail across the ocean, an’ start afresh there! We’ll no’ be lowly servants no more, we’ll be landowners, an’ princes among men!’

  Paul’s identical twin, the taciturn Andrew, had been silently imbibing his ale all throughout the exchange, but now he decided to pipe in.

  ‘Hold on a minute there, lads.’

  All of the others fell silent and turned to look at Andrew.

  ‘Her father will no’ let her marry you at this time, tha’ much is true,’ he said.

  ‘That’s why we’re going tae help Will elope wi’ the lass!’ Michael bellowed.

  Andrew shook his head emphatically.

  ‘A noble thought, Mikey, but impossible. How would we get her and William ontae a ship? Her father an’ his associates own most ay the ships in the nearest port. An’ he’s got businesses in America, from what I hear, an’ he’s certainly no’ the sort ay gentleman who would let his sole heir, well, heiress, elope wi’ a stable boy. He’ll hunt you down, Will, he’ll hunt you tae the ends ay the earth. He’ll ne’er stop until you’re dead an’ he’s got her back.’

  ‘Aye, an’ we’ll defend our boyo until death takes us!’ Michael thundered, bristling with fierce bravado and reckless self-confidence.

  Paul let out a huff of exasperation, entering the conversation again.

  ‘Defend him wi’ wha’, Mikey? Our fists, against the guns an’ swords he’ll no doubt send against us? Come on. We’re stable boys, no’ fighters. We’d stand no chance.’

  ‘I dunnae care! I’d defend my Will until the end, against anyone that auld bastard sends against us, no matter what weapons they carry, an—’

  ‘As would I,’ Andrew interrupted, his tone calm and measured. ‘But tha’s no’ the only option here. I know ay a way by which Will can attain true prestige, enough tha’ it would make elopement an’ deception unnecessary.’

  ‘You mean you’ve got a way tae get that auld git tae willingly consent tae give William his daughter’s hand?!’ Michael asked, raising a single incredulous eyebrow at this suggestion. ‘Pray tell, Andy, what on earth might tha’ be then?’

  ‘It’s just an idea, but hear me out.’

  Michael called for another ale, and then turned to Andrew, his features drawn tight in an expression of focus and concentration.

  ‘I’m all ears, Andy,’ Michael said. ‘I’m sure we all are. So go on then, let’s hear what you’ve got tae say.’

  Andrew took a deep swig of his ale before continuing.

  ‘Remember a few months ago, when tha’ cavalry officer was up at Sir MacTaggart’s stables, askin’ about horses?’

  ‘Aye, the man from the 17th L
ancers, tha’ one?’

  ‘Aye, tha’ chap. Well he an’ I got tae talking, see. It turns out he was born in Whitechapel, London, like all ay us were.’

  ‘What?! But he’s an officer!’ Michael exclaimed.

  Andrew took another sip of his ale and then gave his friend a smug wink.

  ‘Exactly.’

  William sipped on his own ale and swilled the liquid around in his mouth before he turned and stared for a time at Andrew with narrowed eyes.

  ‘Are you suggesting what I think ye are, Andy?’ he asked.

  ‘Will,’ Andrew said, ‘if you joined the Lancers you could conceivably rise through the ranks and become an officer. Listen, you’re one ay the most charismatic lads I’ve ever met; you’re a natural leader. This is what tha’ bloke did. He came from the lowest ay the low in society, as we all did, but now, after ten years ay service, he’s a captain ay the 17th Lancers. A captain!’

  William masticated on this for a while, but he soon crumpled his face into a sad, defeated frown.

  ‘I’m no fighter, Andrew. And what’s more, I’ve heard that it’s an exceptionally rare thing for an enlisted man tae be promoted in tha’ manner. Most ay them officers are just toffs who bought their commissions wi’ family money, like. I’m no’ sure … it doesnae seem a wise path tae tread.’

  ‘Yet eloping does?’

  ‘Well tha’s … tha’s…’

  ‘Something that’ll end in tragedy, fir sure,’ Paul interjected, contributing to the conversation once more. ‘If you elope wi’ the lass, you’ll spend the rest ay your lives on the run. Think about tha’. Her father isnae the sort ay man who merely forgives an’ forgets. Like I said, he’ll hunt you down, an’ he’ll no’ stop until he finds you. And what’s more, he’s got the money an’ the resources an’ the connections tae dae just tha’. However, wi’ this way tha’ Andy is suggestin’, if you could rise tae the rank ay lieutenant, even, you’d ha’ a fair chance at attaining your beloved’s hand.’

  ‘That wouldnae change the fact that I’m but a lowly nobody by birth,’ William muttered forlornly. ‘No uniform nor rank will change tha’.’