Master of Ballantrae | Page 9

Robert Louis Stevenson
by the treachery of the
Macdonalds. This habit of imputing treason grew upon the fool, till at
last he must have in Mr. Henry also. Mr. Henry (by his account) had
betrayed the lads of Durrisdeer; he had promised to follow with more
men, and instead of that he had ridden to King George. "Ay, and the
next day!" Tam would cry. "The puir bonnie Master, and the puir, kind
lads that rade wi' him, were hardly ower the scaur, or he was aff - the
Judis! Ay, weel - he has his way o't: he's to be my lord, nae less, and
there's mony a cold corp amang the Hieland heather!" And at this, if
Tam had been drinking, he would begin to weep.
Let anyone speak long enough, he will get believers. This view of Mr.
Henry's behaviour crept about the country by little and little; it was
talked upon by folk that knew the contrary, but were short of topics;
and it was heard and believed and given out for gospel by the ignorant
and the ill-willing. Mr. Henry began to be shunned; yet awhile, and the
commons began to murmur as he went by, and the women (who are
always the most bold because they are the most safe) to cry out their
reproaches to his face. The Master was cried up for a saint. It was
remembered how he had never any hand in pressing the tenants; as,
indeed, no more he had, except to spend the money. He was a little
wild perhaps, the folk said; but how much better was a natural, wild lad
that would soon have settled down, than a skinflint and a sneckdraw,
sitting, with his nose in an account book, to persecute poor tenants!
One trollop, who had had a child to the Master, and by all accounts
been very badly used, yet made herself a kind of champion of his
memory. She flung a stone one day at Mr. Henry.
"Whaur's the bonnie lad that trustit ye?" she cried.
Mr. Henry reined in his horse and looked upon her, the blood flowing
from his lip. "Ay, Jess?" says he. "You too? And yet ye should ken me
better." For it was he who had helped her with money.
The woman had another stone ready, which she made as if she would
cast; and he, to ward himself, threw up the hand that held his
riding-rod.
"What, would ye beat a lassie, ye ugly - ?" cries she, and ran away

screaming as though he had struck her.
Next day word went about the country like wildfire that Mr. Henry had
beaten Jessie Broun within an inch of her life. I give it as one instance
of how this snowball grew, and one calumny brought another; until my
poor patron was so perished in reputation that he began to keep the
house like my lord. All this while, you may be very sure, he uttered no
complaints at home; the very ground of the scandal was too sore a
matter to be handled; and Mr. Henry was very proud and strangely
obstinate in silence. My old lord must have heard of it, by John Paul, if
by no one else; and he must at least have remarked the altered habits of
his son. Yet even he, it is probable, knew not how high the feeling ran;
and as for Miss Alison, she was ever the last person to hear news, and
the least interested when she heard them.
In the height of the ill-feeling (for it died away as it came, no man
could say why) there was an election forward in the town of St. Bride's,
which is the next to Durrisdeer, standing on the Water of Swift; some
grievance was fermenting, I forget what, if ever I heard; and it was
currently said there would be broken heads ere night, and that the
sheriff had sent as far as Dumfries for soldiers. My lord moved that Mr.
Henry should be present, assuring him it was necessary to appear, for
the credit of the house. "It will soon be reported," said he, "that we do
not take the lead in our own country."
"It is a strange lead that I can take," said Mr. Henry; and when they had
pushed him further, "I tell you the plain truth," he said, "I dare not
show my face."
"You are the first of the house that ever said so," cries Miss Alison.
"We will go all three," said my lord; and sure enough he got into his
boots (the first time in four years - a sore business John Paul had to get
them on), and Miss Alison into her riding-coat, and all three rode
together to St. Bride's.
The streets
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