The Red Mans Revenge | Page 5

not that a truism--if not a newism. The old gentleman had barely reduced himself to quiescence, and the demon had only just begun to snore, when a cloud, no bigger than a man's body, arose on the horizon. Gradually it drew near, partially obscured the sky, and overshadowed the smoking-box in the form of Angus Macdonald, the father of Ian. (The demon ceased snoring!)
"Coot tay to you, sir," said Angus. "You will pe enchoyin' your pipe this fine mornin'."
"Yes, Angus, I am," replied Ravenshaw, with as much urbanity as he could assume--and it wasn't much, for he suspected the cause of his neighbour's visit--"you'd better sit down and light your own."
Angus accepted the invitation, and proceeded to load with much deliberation.
Now it must be known that the Highlander loved the view from that knoll as much as did his neighbour. It reminded him of the old country where he had been born and bred on a hill-top. He coveted that willow knoll intensely, desiring to build a house on it, and, being prosperous, was willing to give for it more than its value, for his present dwelling lay somewhat awkwardly in the creek, a little higher up the river, so that the willows on the knoll interfered vexatiously with his view.
"It's a peautiful spote this!" observed Angus, after a few preliminary puffs.
"It is," answered the old trader curtly, (and the demon awoke).
Angus made no rejoinder for a few minutes, but continued to puff great clouds with considerable emphasis from his compressed lips. Mr Ravenshaw returned the fire with interest.
"It'll no pe for sellin' the knowl, ye are?" said Angus.
The demon was fairly roused now.
"No, Angus Macdonald," said the trader sternly, "I'll not sell it. I've told you already more than once, and it is worse than ill-judged, it is impertinent of you to come bothering me to part with my land."
"Ho! inteed!" exclaimed Angus, rising in wrath, and cramming his pipe into his vest pocket; "it is herself that will pe pothering you no more spout your dirty land, Samyool Ruvnshaw."
He strode from the spot with a look of ineffable scorn, and the air of an offended chieftain.
Old Ravenshaw tried to resume his tranquillity, but the demon was self-willed, and tobacco had lost its power. There were more clouds, however, in store for him that morning.
It so fell out that Ian Macdonald, unable to bear the suspense of uncertainty any longer, and all ignorant of his father's visit to the old trader, had made up his mind to bring things to a point that very morning by formally asking permission to pay his addresses to Elsie Ravenshaw. Knowing the old man's habits, he went straight to the smoking-box. If he had set out half an hour sooner he would have met his own father and saved himself trouble. As it was, they missed each other.
Mr Ravenshaw had only begun to feel slightly calmed when Ian presented himself, with a humble, propitiatory air. The old man hated humility in every form, even its name. He regarded it as a synonym for hypocrisy. The demon actually leaped within him, but the old man had a powerful will. He seized his spiritual enemy, throttled, and held him down.
"Good-morning, Mr Ravenshaw."
"Good-morning."
Nothing more was said by either for a few minutes. Ian was embarrassed. He had got up a set speech and forgotten it. He was shy, but he was also resolute. Drawing himself up suddenly he said, with an earnest, honest look, "Mr Ravenshaw, I love your daughter," (there was only one daughter in Ian's estimation!) "and I come to ask leave to woo her. If, by earnest devotion and--"
"Ian Macdonald," interrupted the old gentleman, in a voice of suppressed anger, "you may save yourself and me the trouble of more talk on this subject. Your father has just been here wanting me to sell him this knoll. Now, look here," (he rose, and stepping out of the smoking-box, pointed to Angus Macdonald's house, which was full in view), "you see that house, young man. Mark what I say. I will sell this knoll to your father, and give my daughter to you, when you take that house, and with your own unaided hands place it on the top of this knoll!"
This was meant by the old trader as a bitterly facetious way of indicating the absolute hopelessness of the case. Ian accepted it in that light, for he was well aware that Samuel Ravenshaw's firmness--or obstinacy--was insurmountable. He did not despair, however; true love never does that; but he felt tremendously cast down. Without a word or look of reproach he turned and walked slowly away.
Once again the old trader sought comfort in his pipe, but found none. Besides feeling extremely indignant; with the Macdonalds, father and son, for what he styled their