"INCHBRACKEN,"

A NOVEL BY R. CLELAND

Westminster Review, October, 1883.

"Inchbracken" is a clever sketch of Scottish life and manners at the time of the "Disruption," or great secession from the Established Church of Scotland, which resulted in the formation of the Free Church. The scene of the story is a remote country parish in the north of Scotland, within a few miles of the highland line. The main interest centres in the young Free Church minister and his sister and their relations, on the one hand, with the enthusiastic supporters of the Disruption movement, mostly of the peasant or small tradesmen class, with a sprinkling of the smaller landowners; and, on the other hand, with the zealous supporters of the Established Church, represented by the Drysdales of Inchbracken, the great family of the neighbourhood. The story is well and simply told, with many a quiet touch of humour, founded on no inconsiderable knowledge of human nature.

Academy, 27th October, 1883.

There is a great deal of solid writing in "Inchbracken," and they who read it will hardly do so in vain. It is a story of the Disruption; and it sets forth, with much pains and not a little spirit, the humours and scandals of one of the communities affected by the event. The main incident of the story has nothing to do with the Disruption, it is true; but its personages are those of the time, and the uses to which they are put are such as the Disruption made possible. Roderick Brown, the enthusiastic young Free Church minister, finds on the sea-shore after wreck and storm, a poor little human waif which the sea has spared. He takes the baby home, and does his best for it. One of his parishioners has lost her character, however; and as Roderick, at the instigation of his beadle, the real author of her ruin, is good enough to give her money and help, it soon becomes evident to Inchbracken that he is the villain, and that the baby of the wreck is the fruit of an illicit amour. How it ends I shall not say. I shall do no more than note that the story of the minister's trials and the

portraitures—of elders and gossips, hags and maids and village notables—with which it is enriched are (especially if you are not afraid of the broadest Scotch, written with the most uncompromising regard for the national honour) amusing and natural in no mean degree.

W. E. Henley.

Athenæum, 17th November, 1883.

"Inchbracken" will be found amusing by those who are familiar with Scotch country life. The period chosen, the "Disruption time," is an epoch in the religious and social life of Scotland, marking a revival, in an extremely modified and not altogether genuine form, of the polemic Puritanism of the early Presbyterians, and so furnishing a subject which lends itself better to literary treatment than most sides of Scottish life in this prosaic century. The author has a good descriptive gift, and makes the most of the picturesque side of the early Free Church meetings at which declaimers against Erastian patronage posed in the attitude of the Covenanters of old. The story opens on a stormy night when Roderick Brown, the young Free Church minister of Kilrundle, is summoned on a ten-mile expedition to attend a dying woman, an expedition which involves him in all the troubles which form the subject of the book. The patient has nothing on her mind of an urgent character. "No, mem! na!" says the messenger.

"My granny's a godly auld wife, tho' maybe she's gye fraxious whiles, an' money's the sair paikin' she's gi'en me; gin there was ocht to confess she kens the road to the Throne better nor maist. But ye see there's a maggit gotten intil her heid an' she says she bent to testifee afore she gangs hence."

The example of Jenny Geddes has been too much for the poor old woman:—

"Ay, an' I'm thinkin' it's that auld carline, Jenny Geddes, 'at's raised a' the fash! My granny gaed to hear Mester Dowlas whan he preached among the whins down by the shore, an' oh, but he was bonny! An' a graand screed o' doctrine he gae us. For twa hale hours he preached an expundet an' never drew breath for a' the wind was skirlin', an' the renn whiles skelpin' like wild. An' I'm thinkin' my granny's gotten her death o' ta'. But oh! an' he was grand on Jenny Geddes! an' hoo she up wi' the creepie am' heved it a the Erastian's heid. An' my granny was just fairly ta'en wi't a', an' she vooed she beut to be a mither in Israel tae, an' whan she gaed hame she out wi' the auld hugger 'at she keeps the bawbees in, aneath the hearthstane, for to buy a creepie o' her ain,—she thocht a new ane wad be best for the Lord's wark,—an' she coupet the chair whaur hung her grave claes,' at she airs fonent the fire ilika Saturday at e'en, 'an out there cam a lowe, an' scorched a hole i' the windin' sheet, an' noo, puir body, we'll hae to hap her in her muckle tartan plaid. An'

aiblins she'll be a' the warmer e'y moulds for that. But, however, she says the sheet was weel waur'd, for the guid cause. An' syne she took til her bed, wi' a sair host, an' sma' winder, for there was a weet daub whaur she had been sittin' amang the whins. An' noo the host's settled on her that sair, she whiles canna draw her breath. Sae she says she maun let the creepie birlin' slide, but she beut to testifee afore some godly minister or she gangs hence. An' I'm fear'd, sir, ye maun hurry, for she's real far through."

The excuse for this long extract must be its excellence as a specimen of a long-winded statement, just such as a Scotch fisher boy would make when once the ice was broken. Not less idiomatic is the interview between Mrs. Boague, the shepherd's wife, and Mrs. Sangster "of Auchlippie," the great lady of the congregation, when the latter has had her painful experience of mountain climbing, till rescued by the "lug and the horn" at the hands of her spiritual pastor. Other good scenes are the meeting of the two old wives in mutches an the brae side, and the final discomfiture of the hypocritical scamp Joseph Smiley by his mother-in-law, Tibbie Tirpie, who rights her daughter's wrongs and the minister's reputation by a capital coup de main. Of more serious interest, though full of humour, are the trials the excellent Roderick endures at the hands of his kirk session. Ebenezer Prittie and Peter Malloch are types of many an elder minister and ministers' wives have had to groan under, and the race is not extinct. But all who are interested in such specimens of human nature should

refer to Mr. Cleland, who knows his countrymen as well as he can describe his country.

Select Novels by Popular Authors.

Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. each.

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MY SISTER THE ACTRESS. A BROKEN BLOSSOM. PHYLLIDA. THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL. FACING THE FOOTLIGHTS.

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By the Author of "Recommended to Mercy."

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A PROFESSIONAL BEAUTY.

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TWO MEN AND A MAID.

A

RICH MAN'S RELATIVES.

BY

R. CLELAND,

AUTHOR OF "INCHBRACKEN."

IN THREE VOLUMES.

VOL. III.

LONDON:

F. V. WHITE AND CO.,

31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C.

1885.

PRINTED BY KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS; AND MIDDLE MILL KINGSTON-ON-THAMES.

CHAPTER I.

BANKS AND BRAYS.

Ralph's satisfaction at carrying through his manœuvre with the mining company's directors amounted almost to elation. The unexpected appearance of opposition in that docile body had startled him at first, but he had been able to ride it down in so summary and highhanded a fashion that he doubted not but the spirit was quenched for ever, and congratulated himself on its having appeared at a moment when it could so easily and utterly be crushed and abolished. A meeting of the bank directors next door was now due. Glancing at his watch, he found that he was already fifteen minutes late, caught up his portfolio of bank papers in haste, and passed by way of the dressing-room into the bank, confident as an Alexander mounting his war-horse, and riding forth to new victories.

A breath of chill air blew in his face as he entered the board-room and met reserved and distant glances on every side. They had not waited for his coming, and were already deep in business. His own arm-chair, he observed—the arm-chair of pre-eminence at the end of the table, heretofore sacred to his own use, was occupied by M. Petitôt, the pork packer, vice-president of the bank, who, however, had the grace to rise apologetically, and make way, observing that they had feared Mr. Herkimer did not intend to be present, when Mr. Jowler, the bark dealer, sprang to his feet, and moved that the vice-president retain the chair for the present, M. Petipomme seconding the motion.

Ralph bit his lip, and something like a scowl passed momentarily across his face at the overt act of mutiny, which not so long before he would have quelled with a crack of the whip, and brought the unruly curs to heel with drooping neck and tail. But the moment was not opportune for the exercise of authority; his brow grew clear again, if somewhat pale, his features calm, if a trifle set, and expressionless, and he sat down in a vacant chair at the lower end of the table.

The business, however, appeared to have come to a stop; no one spoke, and each looked at his neighbour, while the vice-president moved restlessly in his chair, and twiddled his watch chain with uneasy fingers. He coughed, cleared his voice, lifted his eye-glass to his eyes, and let it drop, but still he said nothing, while Ralph looked inquiringly round the board. Several ledgers had been brought in from the bank and lay upon the table, every one open at the page headed, "Ralph Herkimer & Son;" and while he waited, a clerk entered with yet another, containing some further variety of information which he laid before the chairman, opening it and officiously pointing out the desired record, then looking up as he turned to withdraw, his eyes lighted on the president himself, when a guilty flush and a deprecatory glance betrayed that the information he had been presenting bore upon the same point as the rest.

"You appear, gentleman, to be looking into the working of my account," said Ralph, after a further period of silence; "Pray go on, don't mind me! You will find it is a profitable account, perhaps the most profitable in your books. Satisfy yourselves by all means. It is your right. But permit me to say that the time and the manner are not well chosen. There is something not altogether friendly, nor quite above-board, in this way of gratifying your curiosity. Is it honourable, gentleman, or manly, to watch till you get a man's back turned before proceeding to overhaul his account?"

"Strong language, Mr. Herkimer," said several voices at once.

"Most unwarrantable," muttered Jowler.

"It is true, gentlemen, and not a bit stronger than the facts warrant."

"Indeed, Mr. President," said Petitôt blandly—he was noted for a courteous benignity which never failed, so long at least as there remained a chance of the other side's ability to make him regret being otherwise. After that—well, after those others became too weak for it to matter, the world took little heed how he behaved, and he acted accordingly, as pleased him best—brutally, the sufferers called it. "Indeed, Mr. President, you take up the matter too seriously. The accident of your absence when the question arose was a mere coincidence. We are all, I assure you, well aware of the value of your account."

"Should think so," muttered Jowler, pleased to find how quickly they were drifting to the pith of the grievance. "It amounts to half or two-thirds of the bank's capital already, and it promises to swallow up the whole before long."

"Which would not suit you, Jowler," retorted Ralph, sneering assiduously to conceal his wrath, and perhaps his dismay. "But it might be well for the country and for the bank itself, that it should not have any funds to dissipate in the bark business. I say 'dissipate' designedly, gentlemen. I know of four cargoes of cutch and gambler now on the way for this port, with more to follow. Bark prices must collapse, and the less we have to do with the article at present, the better for us. It is well for the country, I consider, that discouragement should arise to stop the reckless destruction of our hemlock forests. If Jowler and his like are allowed their way, we shall not have a hemlock left standing in ten years' time."

"And how much better off is the bank with its tons of plumbago, which cannot be brought to market?" retorted Jowler angrily. "The plumbago paper has been renewed three times already, and the amount increased without the sanction of the board."

"Are we not drifting into a wrangle, gentlemen, and wasting time to no good purpose?" said Mr. Seebright, of the Journal. "The bank settlements are going against us week after week, and the specie reserve is running down. What are we to do? That is the question."

"Circulation going down every day," added Petipomme, with an air of wisdom.

"And pray, gentlemen, did you ever know it otherwise at this season?" cried Ralph, eager to score any point an injudicious speaker might put in his way. "Look into the government returns for last year, look into them for any year, and you will find the circulation of the country reaches its lowest points in August and February. It has several weeks to go on diminishing yet, but it is larger than it was this time last year. Wait till September, and you will see it go up and increase steadily till it reaches its highest point in November. The thing is as regular as the seasons, and no resolution this board can pass will alter it."

"All very true, President," said Seebright; "but this drain of the reserve must be stopped somehow. How do you propose to do it? We must contract—realize. Where shall we begin to prune?"

Ralph was silent. He wanted to borrow more, and with the particulars of the account actually on the table, it seemed best not to excite ill-will by proposing to impose a reduction on any one else. Jowler had taken up a share list to cover his chagrin under Ralph's attack; he now laid it down with a loud "Hillo! St. Euphrase mining shares down four per cent since yesterday! What's up, President? Things going badly?"

"I walked down street with old Mr. Premium this morning," said Petipomme—"parted from him not half-an-hour ago. He says there's something up, he could not make out what, but some villager had been to him, eager to sell out at once, and at any price. The man was very close and would say nothing, but he was so eager that Premium grew panicky and was going to unload."

"The bank has made you an advance, President, on some of that stock," cried Jowler. "Four per cent off the security at one drop! I call on you to put up a fresh margin."

"I scarcely think you will consider that necessary, gentlemen, when I tell you that, at the meeting held this morning, the directors have agreed to declare a dividend of five per cent. It will be in all the papers to-morrow. You will find the announcement on your table, Mr. Seebright, when you get back to your office, and an advertisement for to-morrow's issue."

"Five per cent?" said Petitôt, congratulating himself on not having joined in the late attempted onslaught. "Is not that unexpected? I have heard no word of it."

"It was only decided this morning, and we agreed to declare it at once, so that bonâ fide shareholders should reap the advantage rather than mere speculators."

"And it is not known yet?" asked Petitôt eagerly. "But it will be, in an hour's time," he added, answering himself. "Gentlemen! I think there is no other business before the board. I declare the meeting adjourned to this day next week;" and, seizing his hat, Mr. Petitôt was gone, and half-way across the street to his broker's before any of his brethren could have interposed a word, which, however, none of them seemed wishful to do. Such a rush for hats and general stampede had never been seen before; the assistant cashier, who wrote the minutes, found the room deserted, when he laid down his pen, by all but the president, and the roll of bills, which should have been shared among the several gentlemen, still before him—an unprecedented circumstance.

"What is to be done with this, Mr. Herkimer?"

"You and I had better share it between us, Briggs," he chuckled. "What would they say if we did? They have all skipped off to buy St. Euphrase mining shares, and they will make so much money they will never miss this—that is, not before the shares are bought. Afterwards, when they have completed their operation, they will recollect, and come asking for it. Put it in your desk for the present, it will not be long till they relieve you of the charge."

CHAPTER II.

A CONFIDANTE.

The day came for the Misses Stanley's return to the country. Muriel's classes were over, and the streets grown hot and dusty past endurance. Life was a burden under the all-pervading glare shot from the vault overhead, and the two miles breadth of glassy river, the acres on acres of shining tin-roofs, and the heated face of limestone pavements. The breeze felt withering like breath from a furnace, hotter even than the air at rest, and cool was attainable only by ingenious contrivance, and in twilight darkness.

"Ah!" said Considine; he had been lingering in town till now, and had suddenly found out that it was time to take his yearly villagiatura at St. Euphrase, his plans coinciding with those of his friends so closely, that when the ladies reached the railway station he was already on the platform to assist them about tickets and baggage as well as to join them in the parlour car; which Miss Penelope considered quite remarkable, but most fortunate and "very nice." "Ah!" said Considine, raising a window as the train rolled into the country, "what a different air to breathe! It smells and feels of the country already."

"Yes," said Miss Matilda, "I feel myself absorbing new vitality from the verdure as we pass along. Do the woods not look seductive after the baking and withering we have suffered of late? One grudges even the delay of railway speed. What will it not be this afternoon to sit among the trees, with coolness rustling softly through the foliage—just to sit and feel one's self alive—with every breath a new deliciousness, and the sense of rest and freshness making one happy and new down to the finger-tips. You will find it delightful at Podevin's to-day, so close by the river. I can imagine you will get into a boat immediately, and go out in the stream and drift, and smoke your cigar, I dare say; you gentlemen seem always doing that, though it must spoil the flavour of a day so exquisite as this, it seems to me."

"As Podevin, whose house is full, has fitted me up the room over the boat-house for my chamber, I imagine I shall have my share of any coolness stirring; yet it would, I dare say, be pleasant to make a beginning of the freshness at full strength by getting into a boat. However, I shall not stay long, and if you will permit me, when the afternoon heat grows moderate, I will walk up to your house and learn if you and Miss Stanley are still alive—and my young friend Muriel also, though indeed, the weather appears to suit her well enough."

And truly at that moment Muriel was in perfect comfort, sitting a little apart with an escort of her own—her friend Gerald who had deserted the cares of business for her sweet company. Not that he found her difficult of access at other times, for they often met; but there is a privacy in a public railway carriage when the rumbling of the wheels drowns conversation for every ear other than the one addressed, and a safety from intrusion and interruption while the journey lasts, not easily to be found elsewhere.