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 JOANNES ANDREAS DOYLE (§ 
 
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 B I BLl OTHECARIUS MDCCCLX XXI-MDCCCLXXXV 
 
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 BLAIB ATHOL 
 
 VOL. r.
 
 BLAIR ATHOL 
 
 % Ioi)cl 
 
 By " BLINKHOOLIE," 
 
 AUTHOU OF 
 THE TALE OF A HORSE," " HIDDEN TALENT," ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 CHAPMAN & HALL, Limited, 11, HENEIETTA ST., 
 
 COVENT GAEDEK 
 
 1881. 
 
 [All Rights rescrved.l 
 
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 S IT n 9 3 11 : 
 
 CLAY AND TAYLOR. PBINTERS. 

 
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 V 
 
 SIXTH 
 
 VISCOUNT FALMOUTH, 
 
 THE ENGLISH THOROUGHBRED HORSES's BEST FRIEND, 
 IN WHOM IS PERSONIFIED 
 
 " SPORT " 
 
 PURE AND DISTINCT 
 
 FROM "GAMBLING" ON THE TURF, 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS, WITH PERMISSION, DEDICATED, 
 
 IX TOKEN OF 
 
 ^5 THE SINCERE ADMIRATION AND RESPECT OF 
 
 ^ THE AUTHOR. 
 
 1^
 
 PEEFACE. 
 
 A FEW words as to the object of this novel, for it 
 has a very definite object, although, of course, it 
 must depend for success upon such intrinsic merit 
 as it by chance possesses. Blair Athol is specially 
 chosen as the type of a horse that may raise better 
 feelings in men's minds than those of mere money 
 speculation. 
 
 Love of horses for their own sake, and of sport for 
 its own sake, is chiefly needed to keep the English 
 turf pure, and to make racing a national benefit. 
 
 The object — and no novel was ever worse fur 
 having a good object — is to show in these pages, 
 however feebly, that the love of a good horse, so far 
 from being hurtful, may even serve to keep a man 
 straight in life, and certainly in the racing world ; 
 while a gambling spirit, not elevated by the pure 
 ideal of sport, brings ruin on those who are swayed by 
 it, no matter in what phase of existence. The race 
 for wealth chokes all delicacy of sentiment, and 
 deadens the brightness of old-fashioned honour. But 
 much that seems fanciful, or even fantastic to those 
 who look on everything from a hard, business-like
 
 viii Preface. 
 
 point of view, still may be worthy of grave considera- 
 tion, if it is found that true aspirations in the question 
 of sport may elevate and ennoble human nature. 
 Much more could be said on this subject, but the 
 above will suffice. 
 
 It is well to state that none of the principal 
 characters in the book represent actual persons, nor 
 is the plot — such as it is — drawn from any sequence 
 of events in real life. But, on the other hand, 
 strange and varied experiences have grouped them- 
 selves together so as to form incidents, none of which 
 can be called purely imaginary or impossible, although 
 they in no sense are given as chronicles of any facts 
 Avhatever. 
 
 A sporting novel is a dangerous task to attempt ; 
 it is so easy to write a bad one, so difficult to ac- 
 complish a good one. It would be presumptuous to 
 anticipate success, and would show want of heart to 
 expect a failure. Claiming nothing, then, and depre- 
 cating nothing, I will just commit my book to the 
 tender mercies of my friends the public, 
 And rest. 
 
 Their obedient servant, 
 
 Bltnkhoolie.
 
 BLAIR ATHOL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " What glorious shape 
 Comes this way moving? " — Paradise Lost^ v. 308. 
 
 On Langton Wold, in the spring of 1864, we 
 have specially to notice a group of three 
 persons : one an elderly and disreputable look- 
 ing man, the next a youth of about eighteen, 
 rather small and slight, the other a tall, delicate 
 boy of twelve, who seemed preternaturally 
 grave for his years. The last-mentioned two 
 we are chiefly concerned with, and they must 
 at once be introduced. The elder is Tom 
 Blackburn, the eldest son of a well-known and 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 Blair Athol. 
 
 highly-respected clergyman who has the living 
 of Newton, in Yorkshire. The other is Henry 
 JoUifFe, whose father has been for many years 
 member for the town of Conyers, also in 
 Yorkshire. 
 
 The old man speaks first. "Here they 
 come, sir ; now watch them closely." 
 
 The eyes of the two youngsters sparkle with 
 excitement at his words. '' Where, where ? " 
 
 " Why there," replies the old man, pointing 
 to some objects advancing in the distance ; 
 "there's the old mare. Caller Ou, and there's 
 Borealis, and there's Blair Athol. Now then, 
 look out." 
 
 On they come, and the two bend their eyes 
 eagerly on them, as they approach and sweep 
 past at the distance of some sixty yards — 
 Caller Ou creeping along with that queer, old- 
 fashioned look about her that had made her so 
 well known on many a race-course throughout 
 
 England, from the time when she humbled
 
 Blatr Athol. 3 
 
 the pride of the Derby winner, the mighty 
 Kettledrum, which was but the outset of 
 her long and wonderfully victorious career. 
 Borealis, whose action is simply perfection, 
 the first child of the peerless Blink Bonny, a 
 mere pony, but a veritable multum in parvo 
 for all that. How she has distinguished 
 hei-self, and how gallantly she has run with 
 horses twice her size, is it not recorded in 
 the chronicles of Weatherby ? 
 
 Then last, but not least, comes one, skimming 
 over the ground like a swallow, with action 
 that can with truth be called the poetry of 
 motion. This is Blair Athol, the dark horse. 
 He has never yet seen a race-course, and yet 
 it is whispered that it will go hard with 
 Malton if he does not win the Derby. Many 
 there are who are destined to know well that 
 good blaze face in later days, but at this date 
 the general public have other gods, and rely 
 as usual on public form. 
 
 B 2
 
 4 Blair Athol. 
 
 The three lookers-on burst forth in words of 
 admiration. 
 
 " I never saw three such goers in my life/' 
 said Tom. 
 
 ''Ah ! but look at them now, sir," said the 
 old man ; " see from behind how true the 
 young 'un moves." And there is no doubt that 
 Blair Athol goes straight as a line, without 
 the slightest deviation, as steady as clock-work. 
 
 Henry Jolliffe remained wistfully gazing 
 after the quickly retreating forms of the three 
 horses, and seemed to be lost in thought, 
 almost appearing to look into the future, 
 though in fact he had no idea what an- im- 
 portant influence that bald - faced chestnut 
 
 was to have on his after life. At lentrth he 
 
 <_■ 
 
 spoke : " Well, that must be a good horse." 
 
 The old man laughed. " YouVe a promising 
 eye in your head, young sir," said he. " There's 
 not many that could have made a better 
 choice."
 
 Blair Athol. 5 
 
 "Well/' said Tom, "let's go and see John 
 Scott's horses." • 
 
 They walked on a short distance, and we 
 who are with them cannot but appreciate the 
 invigorating influence of the clear morning 
 air. To those who love our British thorough- 
 bred there is an indescribable charm about a 
 morning thus spent on a training-ground ; 
 and as we get older we ever recall with 
 pleasure such times, when we see mighty 
 steeds without the crush and turmoil of the 
 race-course, meet cheery friends, and gain 
 wondrous appetites for breakfast. Then the 
 days spent looking over the all - important 
 horses at home ; and the evenings made merry 
 by the reminiscence of bygone times, and dis- 
 cussion of the present in some snug sanctum, 
 where the army of touts and newspaper re- 
 porters would give the world to be. 
 
 But our three companions again take up 
 their station, and again a lot of horses go
 
 6 Blair Athol. 
 
 striding past in full life and power, cracking 
 their nostrils in the superabundance of vigour. 
 These are they who are to do battle for the black 
 and gold of Mr. Bowes when their time comes. 
 
 Turning from them, Tom asks, " What 
 about General Peel ? He's won the Two Thou- 
 sand Guineas, and he's backed to beat Blair 
 Athol. Can he do it, think you ? " 
 
 " I've never seen him," cried Henry, '' but I 
 shall back Blair Athol." 
 
 A thoughtful smile pervades the somewhat 
 ill-favoured visage of the old man. 
 
 " You're about right, young gent. General 
 Peel isn't in the Hunt with him. You take it 
 from me, Blair Athol will win the Derby, and 
 be so good as to put me on a trifle/* 
 
 The two friends thank him for his advice, 
 and promise to follow it. As they turn to go 
 away, he says to the younger, " Ax yer pardon, 
 sir, but was you ever on a training-ground 
 before?"
 
 Blair Athol. 7 
 
 Henry, who thinks that the discrimination 
 he has displayed will look all the better when 
 he acknowledges that he has not been, replies 
 in the negative. 
 
 *' Then, sir, please, you must pay your foot- 
 ing : all sportsmen does it, sir, and I know you 
 mean to be a sportsman." 
 
 There was something about this remark not 
 un pleasing to Henry, and after a consultation 
 with Tom, he gave the old one ten shillings. 
 
 "Thank you, sir; you can always hear of 
 me at the ' Horse and Jockey : ' ask for Jimmy/' ^--^^^v^ 
 
 the tout, and you'll find me. Good-bye, sirfc ' ;:ji ; 
 and don't forget Blair Athol." %^M^ ^ 
 
 Tom and Henry turned away, and, as they ^-^— ^-^ 
 went towards the station, calculated how 
 much money they could raise in one way 
 or another to put on Blair Athol. After 
 mature deliberation they concluded they could 
 invest ten pounds for themselves, and one for 
 Jimmy the tout. Without more ado they
 
 8 Blair Athol. 
 
 therefore obtained a post-office order, and sent 
 the amount to Mr. George Crook, with in- 
 structions to back Blair Athol to win the 
 Derby. The commission being thus de- 
 spatched, they returned by the train to Newton, 
 where the good people at the Vicarage were 
 quite unconscious that the hopeful youths had. 
 not been occupied with their weekly dancing 
 lesson at Malton.
 
 Blair Athol. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Conrad seeks Medora's tower ; 
 
 — ai 
 
 The Corsai?', xix. 
 
 He looks in vain — 'tis strange — and all remark.' 
 
 It was a bright and genial establishment, 
 this same Newton Vicarage, for there was a 
 large family, including six daughters, and 
 two sons in addition to Tom. Mr. Black- 
 burn was a clergyman of the good old school, 
 now so rapidly becoming extinct : an excel- 
 lent sportsman, well known as a brilliant shot ; 
 not unfrequently to be seen mounted on his 
 cob at the cover side when the hounds met ; 
 and not without fame in the coursing world. 
 Few could throw a fly better, and few have 
 ever been more liked and respected in a 
 parish. He was a county magistrate of the 
 
 
 — ^
 
 10 Blair Athol. 
 
 best class, and could always produce a bottle 
 of good port upon occasion. Yet withal he 
 had his faults, and one of them was an over- 
 weening estimation of dinner ; that is to say, 
 his temper could never bear it to be late, or 
 that the cook should have made any, the most 
 trifling, mistake. Upon such occasions it 
 would please him to assume the character of a 
 martyr, and affect to be the most hardly used 
 man in the world. 
 
 His wife, who had been a famous beauty, 
 and who still far surpassed most younger 
 women in that respect, was at this period 
 chiefly at variance with the other members 
 of the household in the super-abundance of 
 love she felt for her last-born, a son of the 
 usual disagreeable habits so general among 
 little boys. But Mrs. Blackburn was in 
 reality one of the kindest - hearted women 
 in creation, and as a housekeeper quite un- 
 rivalled.
 
 Blaik Athol. 11 
 
 The eldest daughter was a pretty, English- 
 looking 'girl that had already driven many 
 love-sick swains to the verge of distraction, 
 though she was but nineteen years old. Her 
 name was Jessie. The next sister, Edith, 
 promised to be rather taller and more striking- 
 looking, but certainly not so animated. The 
 third, Julia, was a dark beauty like her 
 mother ; and the next three, Fanny, Mabel, 
 and Laura, were mere children, with a young 
 ' ruffian of a brother some eight years old, 
 named Jack, thrown in somewhere among 
 them. 
 
 The family had some little while before this 
 acquired an addition in the shape of a Mr. 
 Jones, who was the curate and tutor for the 
 boys, Tom included. Henry JollifFe had been 
 intrusted by his parents to the discipline of 
 this gentleman, and was consequently also one 
 of the family, except when the holidays came 
 round.
 
 12 Blair Athol. 
 
 Tom had always been one of those sort of 
 boys who, without being in the least stupid, 
 had from one cause or another — idleness partly, 
 carelessness partly, and dislike for study 
 chiefly — learned little or nothing at school, 
 and it had been decided to try him with a 
 private tutor at home ; but the plan did not 
 succeed, for Henry, who was somewhat of a 
 prodigy, used to prepare all the lessons, and 
 Tom would generally trust to him to be told 
 anything he wanted to know. Mr. Jones, 
 who was a Welshman, stormed in vain ; Tom 
 remained impenetrably dense or idle, no one 
 could tell which. 
 
 Strange sports used to be the order of the 
 day at Newton. There was on the premises 
 a certain deaf groom, whose temper was most 
 irasciblCj and whose name was Thomas. This 
 man was possessed of prodigious strength, and 
 also great speed, so that he was a very for- 
 midable opponent ; and yet the three boys,
 
 Blair Athol. 13 
 
 including little Jack, were time after time 
 attracted irresistibly to the very dangerous 
 pastime of " teasing Thomas/' as it was called. 
 
 It probably is within the experience of most 
 men that at school, college, or wherever they 
 have been, there has also been some one who 
 seemed by Nature formed to be a butt of this 
 kind. It is impossible to say what peculiari- 
 ties mark a man out as the sport of others. 
 But when such a man is met, his fellows 
 know him as it were by instinct. Such a 
 man was Thomas, and his speed and strength 
 added a spice of danger to the pursuit of him 
 that could not but allure the British mind. 
 Many were the hair-breadth escapes that 
 were run, but it will suffice to mention one of 
 the most amusing adventures. 
 
 A pea-shooter had been introduced upon 
 the scene, and one afternoon Henry, in a 
 spirit of devilry, took aim at Thomas, whose 
 back was turned, and struck him on the tip of
 
 14 Blair Athol. 
 
 the ear. Instantly Thomas turned about, rage 
 depicted on every feature of his face, and 
 without a word rushed upon Henry and Tom, 
 who fled for their lives, but barely escaped up 
 the granary steps, and into a pigeon-house at 
 the side, where they had just time to bolt the 
 door. 
 
 Thomas, in hot pursuit, hurled himself 
 violently against the door, but it was a good 
 one, and the two inside were able to support 
 it against him. Then he became silent, though 
 they could hear him walking about outside, 
 and presently doing something to the door. 
 They cared little, however, for they felt sure 
 he couldn't get in, and when after a while 
 they heard him go down the steps, they felt 
 that he was defeated, and they might escape. 
 Anxiously they looked out through the holes 
 of the pigeon cote, and saw him go right away 
 towards the vinery. Now was the time to 
 make a rush for it. They withdraw the bolt,
 
 Blair Athol. 15 
 
 seize the handle of the door, but it remains 
 immovable ; horror-stricken, they realize that 
 Thomas had secured it from the outside, and 
 means to keep them prisoners till they shall 
 have purged their contempt. Again they rush 
 to the pigeon-holes. Saints be praised ! there 
 is little Jack. " Jack, hi there, quick ; come 
 and let us out." 
 
 It is some while before Jack can make 
 out where the cries come from, but when he 
 does he hastens up the granary steps, and 
 they hear him busily engaged at the door. 
 Very soon he opens it, and they find that a 
 stake had been placed across from post to 
 post, and a rope securely fastened from the 
 door-handle to this, so that escape would have 
 been impossible without breaking the rope or 
 stake. 
 
 Just as they were going, an idea struck 
 Henry to fasten the door up again as if they 
 were still inside, and this being soon done, the
 
 16 Blair Athol. 
 
 three made tracks to the school-room, which 
 overlooked the whole scene of the previous 
 action. Cautiously they stationed themselves 
 so as to watch the future movements of 
 Thomas without being seen. 
 
 It is not long before Thomas appears, bearing 
 with him the syringe that is used in the vinery. 
 His expression is foul and surly, and he is 
 heard to be muttering to himself. It is evi- 
 dent he means mischief. He enters the stable, 
 and comes out again with a bucket, fills it at 
 the pump, and sets it and the syringe down by 
 the stable wall. Then he departs, his counten- 
 ance blackening every moment. 
 
 But the anxious watchers do not connect 
 the syringe and bucket in any way with them- 
 selves. They think, rather, that, though still 
 harbouring evil designs, Thomas is in this 
 matter "only preparing to perform some ordi- 
 nary duty. But see, he is returning, bearing 
 with him a ladder, and now his plan begins
 
 Blair Athol. 17 
 
 to dawn upon tliem, so that they can scarce 
 suppress their hiughter. 
 
 With fixed and determined face he plants 
 the ladder against the wall where the pigeon- 
 holes are, and they hear him now, in murder- ^ 
 ous tones, declare, *' I'll syringe ye yer jackits, 
 ye young raggils I " 
 
 These are his w^ords, as, grasping syringe 
 and bucket, he ascends the ladder. And now 
 behold him, bucket on arm, the syringe with 
 difficulty drawn full, lay on the deadly weapon 
 through the pigeon-hole, and discharge a 
 death-dealing fire, hither and thither, dex- 
 terously directing it towards every corner, lest 
 there should be chance of escape. 
 
 The exquisite humour of the thing, as time 
 after time the syringe is charged and dis- 
 charged amid the fiendish chuckles of Thomas, 
 surpasses all powers of self-restraint that our 
 friends can boast of. Feeling that they can 
 bear it no longer, Tom again directs the pea- 
 
 a. 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 18 Blair Athol. 
 
 shooter, aims carefully, and despatches the 
 missile, which, hurtling through the air as 
 Thomas's profile is full in view, strikes him on 
 the nose smartly, and the three simultaneously 
 burst into roars of laughter. 
 
 A moment more, and as the bucket and 
 syringe fall from his palsied grasp, Thomas 
 has turned and seen the three derisive faces. 
 Green with rage he becomes, springs from the 
 ladder, and looks wildly round. To him, thus 
 rolling his frenzied gaze, there appears a cart- 
 load of turnips just shot out on the ground. 
 
 Heedless of the result, he seizes one of 
 these, by fortunate chance a rotten one, and 
 poising it w^ith rabid rage, hurls it wdiirring 
 through the air at the three faces in the open 
 window. 
 
 They \vitli one accord drop down, and above 
 their heads, harmless, the dread engine passes; 
 yet not harmless, for the good Mr. Jones by 
 evil chance steps into the room to stop the
 
 Blair Athol. 19 
 
 noise, and full in his face the fearsome turnip 
 flies : providentially rotten, so as to burst and 
 fly into pieces ; yet leaviug him, his dignity 
 all gone, injured, affrighted, and horribly 
 befouled. 
 
 Let us not dwell on this scene, except to say 
 that the boys succeeded in shielding Thomas 
 from any ill result, taking the blame on them- 
 selves, and being, therefore, kept in to write 
 heavy impositions for the rest of the day. 
 
 C 2
 
 20 Blair Athol. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " And all at fiery speed the two 
 Shocked — and either knight at once, 
 Hurled as a stone from out of a catapult, 
 Fell as if dead." — Gareth and Lynette. 
 
 Life at Newton was not without sentiment, for 
 Henry's sister Mary would occasionally come 
 over from Couyers, a distance of about nine 
 miles, and Tom adored her with all the retiring 
 devotion that is to be found in a youth of his 
 age. He did not — in fact, durst not — tell his 
 love in those days, but it was manifested, 
 nevertheless, by his assiduous and awkward 
 politeness towards her, his utter silence when 
 in her company, and the settled melancholy 
 that overspread his features whenever she 
 made her departure.
 
 Blair Athol. 21 
 
 Mary was a tall, handsome girl, with dark 
 hair and large blue eyes, not older in years 
 than Tom, but older infinitely in experience ; 
 and she took a species of pleasure in leading 
 him on, and watching his desperate and 
 uncouth endeavours to render himself pleasing 
 to her. It was whispered that she had ere 
 now been absolutely engaged to another, at 
 the very thought of which Tom gnashed his 
 teeth in jealous rage, but the parents had not 
 approved, and so it had been broken off. 
 
 Henry, with the fervid emotion of extreme 
 youth, looked on and loved the fair Jessie, who 
 was some seven years his senior. To him it 
 was bliss to bask in the sunshine of her smiles, 
 as he often did ; but the bliss was sadly 
 alloyed whenever there was a dance or any- 
 thing of that kind given at the house, for 
 then Jessie's looks were for other and older 
 individuals, and poor Henry moped silently 
 and sullenly in a corner, longing to acquire age.
 
 22 Blair Athol. 
 
 It is ever the lot of youth to think itself 
 held in low esteem, and to yearn for the time 
 when^ advancing years shall have entitled it to 
 respect. But when the years have advanced, 
 how many are there that regret the happy, 
 careless bygone days, and look forward wearily 
 to the future, now looming darkly ! 
 
 But Henry was in the halcyon state of 
 romantic love. To him it was sweet to read 
 of the chivalrous deeds of the knights of old, 
 and to wish that the present were like the past, 
 that he might wear a lock of Jessie's hair in 
 his helmet, and by his strong right arm over- 
 throw all who would not admit her claims to 
 be the Queen of Beauty. 
 
 Such were his dreams, and in such wise he 
 spoke often to his sweet ladye, who half 
 encouraged him to go od, being amused 
 intensely, in reality, at his high-flown senti- 
 ments. 
 
 Tom had not the same romantic turn of
 
 Blair Athol. 23 
 
 mind, and he was chiefly occupied. Lamenting 
 his own stupidity in not saying something or 
 other when he had an obvious opportunity, or 
 treading on Mary's dress and tearing it, or 
 spilling over her the tea that he was grace- 
 fully, as he thought, handing ; whereat he 
 would blush to the roots of his hair, and 
 imagine that he had forfeited her esteem for ever. 
 Henry's desire for knightly deeds had led 
 him to manufacture spears and wooden shields, 
 emblazoned with heraldic devices, and he 
 would occasionally induce Tom to engage in 
 conflict with these weapons, only, as they had 
 no steeds, they were obliged to charge one 
 another on foot. The danger of the proceed- 
 ing was considerable, for the spears would 
 generally glance off the opposiug shield, and 
 at last — when Henry had nearly had his eye 
 put out by an accident of this kind — Mrs. 
 Blackburn sternly forbade any more martial 
 encounters. The wounded knight became
 
 24 Blair Athol. 
 
 reconciled to his fate very easily, for had he 
 not his hidye love to tend his hurts, and 
 sweet discourse with her during the period of 
 his convalescence ? 
 
 But his heart panted still for the tilting- 
 field, and a bright idea struck him when his 
 eye fell one day on an old Bath-chair that was 
 stowed away in a corner of the coach-house. 
 Towards the orchard there was a lane about 
 one hundred yards long, on a considerable 
 slope all the way. What more easy than to 
 start in the Bath-chair down this declivicy and 
 tilt at a ring as in the ancient days ? The 
 matter was easily arranged, except that a ring 
 was not forthcoming ; but a large apple hung 
 by a string did duty equally well. Thus did 
 the gay youths, guiding with left hand the 
 strange conveyance, charge repeatedly down 
 the slope ; triumphant, indeed, if they could 
 bear the apple away on the spear's point, and 
 lay it before the shrine of beauty.
 
 Blair Athol. 25 
 
 But now other and more prosaic uses were 
 found for the Bath-chair. Tom had discovered 
 that it was desirable to ride in it whenever 
 there was occasion to go anywhere, and Jack 
 was impressed into the service, much against 
 his will, and compelled to push Tom and 
 Henry wheresoever they listed. 
 
 There was scarcely room for two in the 
 chair; but one could sit on the arm, and the 
 other in the seat, and thus they made shift to 
 be accommodated. 
 
 It happened on an evil day that Jack had 
 been made to push the pair as far as a house 
 some hundreds of yards higher up the road 
 than the Vicarage, and the journey was all 
 on the ascent. The return journey the two 
 idlers in the chair promised themselves would 
 be rapid and exhilarating. 
 
 The reader must know that the village of 
 Newton is built on a steep hill, on whose 
 summit is the Vicarage, beyond which our
 
 26 Blair Athol. 
 
 friends had now been wheeled. Below the 
 Vicarage the principal street of the village 
 runs right down the hill in question, and 
 there is somewhat of a turn towards the 
 bottom before the level ground is reached. 
 
 So then Jack set off to push his two seniors 
 back again to their home, and they quite re- 
 velled in the ride down the few hundred yards 
 of slope ; for it must be understood, that 
 although the Vicarage was at the top of the 
 steep hill, the road continued to rise gradually 
 for a considerable distance further. 
 
 And now they are nearing the entrance 
 gates, regretful that the pleasing journey is 
 past ; Henry at ease in the seat, Tom on the 
 arm of the chair, directing their way with well- 
 skilled hand. 
 
 Jack stayed not his pace in the least. 
 
 " Now then, you little fool, pull up, will 
 you ! Don't you see you are taking us right 
 past the gates ? " Such are the words of Tom.
 
 Blair Athol. 27 
 
 *' Stop, you idiot," lie now roars out ; for be- 
 hold, Jack, impelled by sudden frenzy and 
 recollection of his wrongs, with redoubled 
 efforts rushes the old rattle - trap chair on 
 towards the brink of the hill, so fast that it is 
 impossible to turn it off the road, even if the 
 affrio^hted Tom had sense to do so. It is too 
 late to stay now, even if he wished, for the 
 hill is already asserting its sway, and the 
 machine is rushing along beyond the speed of 
 Jack's little legs, so that he is fain to let go 
 his hold, and away go the ill - fated pair. 
 Faster, faster. — People rush from their cottages 
 to see them go by, but these seem a mere 
 hazy mist to Tom and Henry, so awful is the 
 speed at which they travel. Tom's wits are 
 all alive now, and he grasps the guiding 
 rod steadily, with difficulty maintaining his 
 precarious seat on the arm. On they rush, 
 sweeping as it were into an abyss of dream- 
 land, breathless and well-nif^h blind from the
 
 28 Blair Athol. 
 
 ever-increasing pace. But they are nearing 
 the bottom of the hill. There may be safety yet. 
 
 Tom well knows the danger of that turn 
 in the road, and nerves himself accordingly. 
 They have reached it now. There is a lurch, 
 which Tom manages to counteract, another 
 lurch, on his side this time, and over they go 
 in horrible turmoil. 
 
 They fly through the air like bolts propelled 
 from catapults, and the chair turns a series of 
 countless somersaults, resting at length wheels 
 uppermost, and the said wheels spin round 
 furiously for many more minutes. 
 
 The inhabitants of the village view with 
 intense anxiety the prostrate forms, and there 
 is a general sigh of relief as they are seen to 
 rise. Jack has watched them open-mouthed 
 until now, but as they turn their countenances 
 up the hill towards him, and shake their fists 
 in deadly rage, he sees that the time has come 
 for him to fly, and behold he is gone.
 
 Blair Athol. 29 
 
 Tom and Henry are seen to rub their knees 
 and elbows painfully, and on nearer inspection 
 they have various abrasions apparent on their 
 hands and foreheads ; but almost by a miracle 
 they are not seriously hurt, and with wrathful 
 minds they turn the old chair right way up 
 again, and ignominiously push it themselves 
 up the village. 
 
 Jack has taken refuoe in one of the leafiest 
 of the trees in the avenue between the Vicarage 
 gates and the stables, and, quaking, he hears 
 the two pass by with muttered threats against 
 himself. He leaves not his hiding-place for 
 many hours, when the aggrieved ones, having 
 had their hurts attended to, and generally 
 been made much of, have recovered their 
 tempers, and are not likely to bother them- 
 selves in the way of vengeance.
 
 30 Blair Athol, 
 
 CHAPTER ly. 
 
 " Trust me not at all, or all in all," — Tennyson. 
 
 Time passed, and the Derby day was now at 
 hand. Few who have not lived in Yorkshire 
 can liave any idea of the interest taken by the 
 inhabitants of all classes in everything pertain- 
 ing to racing. It is not a dangerous interest, 
 such as leads many on to ruin themselves with 
 betting. It is no spirit of gambling that 
 makes racing so universal a favourite in York- 
 shire. It is simply the love of horses which 
 inspires every one, whether rich or poor ; and 
 if they do bet, it is only to back their fancy, 
 not with any restless, feverish idea of making 
 money by mere common-place speculation. 
 Even in a quiet village like Newton there
 
 Blair Athol. 31 
 
 was quite a stir of excitement, and few indeed 
 of tlie inhabitants who coukl not argue at some 
 lens^th on the merits of the various candidates 
 for the great event, though scarcely any had 
 ever seen the Derby run for. 
 
 All, however, remembered the glorious days 
 of Blink Bonny, and with universal consent 
 the vote went forth for her son. What 
 though Blair Athol had never yet seen a race- 
 course ; bred as he was, he must be backed, if 
 but for the sake of his dam. 
 
 Tom and Henry had been somewhat mys- 
 terious of late ; no one could exactly say in 
 what way, but their conduct had an inde- 
 scribable something about it that was not 
 usual. They had heard from Mr. Crook that 
 he had taken £220 to £11 for them— Blair 
 Athol to win the Epsom Derby, and that 
 alone was a somewhat momentous incident. 
 Still they made no secret of this to the girls, 
 enjoining on them, however, with many pro-
 
 32 Blair Athol. 
 
 mis(3S in case of a win, that the old people 
 must on no account be told. 
 
 But there always seemed something lurk- 
 ing in the background, and the female mind 
 is intuitively quick at noticing such a phe- 
 nomenon, no matter how deftly the gross 
 intellect of man endeavours to conceal it. 
 And yet but one point was definitely notice- 
 able, and that was, that for some weeks Tom 
 and Henry had spent absolutely no money 
 on anything whatever, and, further than that, 
 by sundry sales of tame rabbits, and others of 
 their goods and chattels, had appeared to be 
 solely intent on amassing money. 
 
 And now the Derby week had arrived. It 
 was Monday night, and Torn and Henry were 
 due for their dancing lesson next day at 
 Malton. Behold tliem now in Henry's room, 
 intently occupied with something on the 
 dressing-table, while the candle sheds a fitful, 
 flickering light on their anxious countenances.
 
 Blair Athol. 33 
 
 They are counting a sum of money nervously, 
 carefully. 
 
 At last Tom speaks. " Ten pounds five and 
 ninepence ! Will that be enough ? " 
 
 '' We must make it enough ; we can take 
 return third-class tickets, and then we can't 
 come to much harm." Thus says Henry, with 
 the confidence of youth. 
 
 Tom seems rather doubtful. " But after 
 all," he adds, " Blair Athol is sure to win, and 
 then we shall be all right." 
 
 " Of course," cries Henry ; " there can be no 
 doubt about it." 
 
 And so they go to their beds, but I much 
 doubt whether sleep found either a ready 
 votary that night, and in the morning they 
 appear noticeably haggard and care-worn. 
 Mrs. Blackburn observes this, and in her kind- 
 ness of heart declares that the boys have been 
 working too hard, and that a day's holiday at 
 home will do them good ; but, to her astonish- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 Blair Athol. 
 
 ment, both declare that they feel quite well, 
 and would not like to miss their dancing 
 lesson for anything. In fact they seem to get 
 quite excited at the idea of such a thing. Mr. 
 Blackburn praises their zeal in the matter, 
 and there is no more said about it ; but at the 
 usual hour they set off for Malton, and are lost 
 to sight, and even to thought, by the majority 
 of the household. 
 
 But we who follow them have observed 
 them get out of the train indeed at Malton, 
 and notice that each carries with him now 
 a small bag, which he had not when he 
 walked out of the Vicarage ; and, stranger 
 far than this, we see them enter the book- 
 ing-office, and very shortly take their seats 
 in another train, which we are told is just 
 starting for York. York is reached, and now 
 we begin to fathom the mystery. Keturn tickets 
 for London are secured, and away the young 
 hopefuls go, bound for the great metropolis.
 
 Blair Athol. 35 
 
 The fact is, as will now be seen, these 
 wicked youths had determined to run up to 
 town to see the Derby, be the consequences 
 what they might, and they actually succeeded 
 in carrying out their plan in the way de- 
 scribed. Their great fear was lest their money 
 should run short, as they had no idea of what 
 it would cost them to stay at any hotel, and 
 they actually decided during their first night 
 in town not to put up anywhere at all, but 
 leave their luggage at the station, and walk 
 about, or otherwise disport themselves, till, 
 morning should appear. 
 
 Arrived at King's Cross, they proceeded 
 to walk aimlessly away, staring about them, 
 and standing a great chance of being run 
 over ; and it so happened that in course of 
 time they reached the neighbourhood ol 
 Leicester Square. They had taken a scanty 
 refreshment at the cost of some eisfhteen 
 pence in a cook-shop, and were still wander-
 
 36 Blair Athol. 
 
 ing on, beginning to feel rather miserable, 
 as it was now late, and there was a feel- 
 inof of desolation and solitude that weighed 
 down their hearts among the vast numbers of 
 strangers whom they saw. 
 
 Suddenly there came a voice from behind 
 them. " My boys, what are you doing here ? " 
 
 Chill fear struck to the vitals of the truant 
 youths at hearing themselves thus familiarly 
 addressed, but glancing timidly towards the 
 speaker, they saw to their great relief that he 
 was a stranger. He was, in fact, a somewhat 
 venerable -looking old man, of a slightly He- 
 brew cast of countenance, wdiich, however, 
 coupled as it w^xs with a fine white beard, did 
 not impress the eye unfavourably, as it might 
 have done had he been a younger man. He 
 seemed to be a member of the clerical profes- 
 sion who was striving to do what good he 
 might in the streets of London. 
 
 o 
 
 ''My boys," he repeated, "what are you
 
 Blair Athol. 37 
 
 doing liere ?— you so young, in this sink of 
 iniquity ! " 
 
 " Sir," said Henry, in whom early maternal 
 lessons had not yet lost their effect, " be 
 sure we are not here to take part in any evil. 
 Indeed it is but chance that has brought us to 
 this place, for we are strangers to London, and 
 are walking to and fro for the reason that our 
 scanty means may not be trusted to procure 
 for us a resting-place this night. To-morrow 
 it is our purpose to visit the Epsom Derby, 
 in the fixed hope that we shall see Blair Athol 
 triumphant. If he is beaten w^e shall never 
 put faith in living thing again." 
 
 " Ah," said the old man, " racing and 
 wickedness, so runs the world ; but faith — 
 did you say you had faith ? Oh, tell me," 
 turning to Tom, '' have you faith even as a 
 grain of mustard seed ? " 
 
 Tom became confused at the question, and 
 mumbled something about it's being time to
 
 •38 Blair Athol. 
 
 go, pulling out Lis watch to prove his 
 vs^ords. 
 
 The stranger looked at the watch with him, 
 interested also in the time. The watch was a 
 good gold one. 
 
 Henry in his simple mind was revolving the 
 last question, and his conscience seemed to 
 urge him to answer, "I hope, sir, that the 
 lessons of faith have not been wholly 'thrown 
 away on us, but -" 
 
 "It is enough," interposed the old gentle- 
 man. " Oh that I may have found in you 
 what I have so long sought ! * Come, come 
 from hence with me to my home, where you 
 shall rest for the night safe from all tempta- 
 tion. Come, I feel it my heavenly duty to 
 see that you go not astray." 
 
 Without more he called a cab, and our 
 friends got into it with little demur, for the 
 idea of a night's lodging was • quite good 
 enoiio-h for them. Their new friend also took
 
 Blair Athol. ■ 39 
 
 his seat, and the three were soon rattling 
 along, two of them knew not whither. In 
 about ten minutes they stopped, and the old 
 gentleman called on them to alight. 
 
 " I regret," said he, examining an ancient 
 purse, *' I have no small change ; would you, 
 young sir, pay the cabman eighteen pence *? " 
 
 Tom fumbles in his pockets, and draws 
 forth coIds, which he proceeds to inspect 
 beneath the light of the gas. 
 
 " Take care," said Mr. Barlow, for that 
 the old man had given them to understand 
 was his name, " take care you don't give the 
 man a sovereign for a shilling, for I observe 
 that you are by no means so destitute as you 
 led me to believe. There, that is right ; and 
 now, come in." 
 
 So saying he opened the door of a some- 
 what ordinary looking house, one of a long 
 row, and on the ground floor there cer- 
 tainly appeared to be a good deal of hilarity
 
 40 Blaie Athol. 
 
 and carousing, not unmixed with occasional 
 objurgations going on. An open door showed 
 a roomfull of tobacco-smoke, and a dishevelled- 
 looking reprobate, staggering forward from 
 among the company, cried out to Mr. Barlow, 
 " Well, Moses, old boy,- home at last ! " 
 
 '' Cease, profane reveller, cease ; think of your 
 
 latter end." There was a loud guffaw at this, 
 
 which, however, stopped when he continued, 
 
 " I have here two innocents whom I would not 
 
 have polluted by your blasphemies. I take them 
 
 upstairs, and do you, while there is yet time, 
 
 repent." Then, turning to the boys, " Come, 
 
 come with me to my rooms. I have them 
 
 here because it is in scenes such as this that I 
 
 feel my mission on earth to lie. And now," 
 
 he continued, after he had led the wondering 
 
 youths into a somewhat sparely-furnished 
 
 room, " you look faint and weary ; a little of 
 
 the cup that cheers is not forbidden to such as 
 
 you. Polly!""
 
 Blair Athol. 41 
 
 A rough sort of handmaiden appeared to 
 his call. She did not seem to treat her 
 superior with superabundant respect, but she 
 nevertheless went off at once when told to 
 bring a bottle of champagne and glasses, and 
 presently returned, opened the bottle, and 
 departed. 
 
 Mr. Barlow considerately pressed the greater 
 part of . the bottle upon his guests, and 
 they, having eaten little or nothing during 
 the day, became rapidly elated by their 
 potations, and loud in the praises of them- 
 selves and their own skill in backing Blair 
 Athol. Mr. Barlow listened and looked on 
 with half wistful melancholy. 
 
 "My first impulse," said he at last, "would 
 be to reproach you for your discourse on such 
 vanities as racing; but I can see the sweet 
 purity of your hearts, and almost I am fain 
 now to exclaim, 'Eejoice, oh young men, in 
 your youth.' Por me, who have seen the
 
 42 Blair Athol. 
 
 wicked ways of all mankind, wlio have known 
 the bright hopes of early days to bring but 
 Dead Sea fruit, if fruit at all — for me it but 
 remains to struggle on in my calling. No 
 vain illusions to enliven me, no pulsations of 
 youth's fair dream to exhilarate ; nothing before 
 me but the impossibility of reforming my 
 fellow-men, which, none the less, I must and 
 ever wdll attempt." 
 
 Henry and Tom felt quite moved to 
 reverent awe by the divine grief of the holy 
 man. At last the former ventured a few 
 commonplaces as to men's works living after 
 them, and Tom broke in, " Forgive me, sir, 
 but I feel as confident as I do of my own 
 existence, that the task you speak of is not 
 impossible to such as you." 
 
 Mr. Barlow smiled, mournfully. " They 
 have no faith," he murmured. " No, high and 
 low, men have no faith. Oh that I had been 
 born in the childhood of this great world of
 
 Blair Athol. 43 
 
 ours, when conventionalities, and forms, and 
 routine shams had not reduced the soul, the 
 divine imagination of man, to torpor and 
 miserable lethargy ; then should I have found 
 faith where the poor pagan saw in the earth, 
 the sky, the starry firmament, the trees, the 
 mountains, the rivers, the sea, the awful 
 thunder, in everything that was around him, 
 a mighty power which in all faith he could 
 admire and adore." 
 
 The two boys were now becoming greatly 
 impressed by the fervour of their host, and 
 they maintained a respectful silence. 
 
 " But," he went on, " I am neglecting 
 your creature comforts ; you must have 
 more wine," and without waiting to hear what 
 they said, he summoned Polly again, and once 
 more the Moet and Chandon sparkled in the 
 glasses. 
 
 Tom and Henry were getting decidedly 
 elevated, but their condition served but to
 
 44 Blair Athol. 
 
 render them more romantically disposed and 
 idealistic, while Mr. Barlow continued his 
 theme. 
 
 " You in your trusting young hearts may 
 deem it scarce credible, but I have failed in 
 all my life to find faith such as once was 
 upon the earth. It was my father, rest his 
 soul ! who urged me to the quest, and left 
 a vast portion of his wealth with which he 
 bade me endow the first faithful man I could 
 find. Near half a century has gone since 
 then, and my quest has yet been vain, while 
 the money has accumulated I know not to 
 what sum. Never, never have I found the 
 man who merits the bequest. Slight indeed 
 is the material test ; but all are wrapped in 
 their own selfish suspicions, and faith, alas! 
 seems to be dead.'' 
 
 " Mr. Barlow," broke in Tom, who was not 
 too far gone to catch at the idea of the bequest, 
 " you asked me if I had faith. I believe I
 
 Blair Athol. 45 
 
 have ; I believe we both have ; haven't we, 
 Henry ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; we have been brought up away 
 from the busy haunts of men," said Henry, 
 somewhat incoherently, " and are, as it were, 
 pagans." 
 
 Mr. Barlow remained a few moments in 
 solemn thought. " Oh, if it should be so/ 
 he exclaimed at last, " I could die in peace. 
 I dare not hope ; still, I will put you to the 
 test." 
 
 *' We are ready," said Tom, half expecting 
 some terrible physical ordeal. 
 
 " It is but this : to prove the existence of 
 the abstract quality faith in your hearts, you 
 must make an external show of it by putting 
 faith in me. I will take your watch and 
 chain, sir, and your breast-pin, and that ring," 
 and I will depart for ten minutes. Suspicion 
 may whisper that I shall never return ; faith 
 will dispel suspicion. Faith or suspicion — 
 which is it ? "
 
 46 Blair Athol. 
 
 " Why faith, of course," cried both. " Take 
 the things, dear Mr. Barlow, we would never 
 dream of suspecting you ! " 
 
 *^ Bless you, bless you for that," said the old 
 man, visibly affected. '' Thank Heaven that I 
 have at length found the predestined recipients 
 of my father's gold ! " and bearing Tom's gold 
 watch and chain, and Henry's breast-pin and 
 ring along with him, he glided from the room, 
 still murmuring thanksgivings. 
 
 He had scarcely been gone a minute when 
 Polly came in, and said, on seeing that Mr. 
 Barlow was not there, " Please, sirs, would 
 you be as kind as pay for the champagne. 
 Missis is just shutting up, and she makes 
 me hand over the money to her." Then, 
 seeing the dubious faces of the boys, "111 
 tell the old gentleman you've paid me, as 
 soon as he gets back, and of course he'll give 
 it you." 
 
 " Very well," replied Tom. " How much ? "
 
 Blair Athol, 47 
 
 " Twenty-four shillings, please, sir, and what 
 you like for myself" 
 
 It 'seemed a large sum, but as Mr. Barlow 
 was to recoup it, Tom paid without a murmur, 
 and bestowed half-a-crown on Polly for fear of 
 being thought mean. She took it and went. 
 
 Minutes passed by, and the' tenth was now 
 progressing. It elapsed, and he came not ; 
 still a doubt never entered into the minds of 
 the two faithful youths. But tlie clock ticked 
 on, and when half-an-hour had elapsed, blank 
 dismay began to overspread Tom's expressive 
 features. 
 
 " I do believe," he whispered, " it's a sell." 
 "Wait awhile yet," said Henry ; " he may 
 be ill." 
 
 An hour has now passed, and the grey morn- 
 ing is beginning to dawn. 
 
 '' I sha n't stand this any longer," cries Tom, 
 and starting up he rings the bell. After a 
 while Polly appears. " AVhere is Mr. Barlow ? "
 
 48 Blair Athol. 
 
 " How should I know ? " 
 
 *' Who should know but you ? We want to 
 see him at once." 
 
 " Well," replies Polly, ^' you just won't, 
 that's' all : and it's about time you were turn- 
 ing out of here, so as I can clean up the room. 
 You can pay me for your night's lodging, 
 young gents — £2 \^s. a piece." 
 
 The two swains were simply thunderstruck 
 at the audacity of this demand, and it was . 
 some time before Tom burst out, "You 
 insolent woman ! Where is Mr. Barlow, I say ? 
 I will find him and my watch," and, followed 
 by Henry, he approaches the door where Polly 
 stands. 
 
 She does not at the moment speak, but 
 quietly rings a hand-bell which is standing on 
 a small table. 
 
 Tom and Henry rush past her on to the 
 landing, doubtful which room to attack first, 
 when their attention is arrested by the sound
 
 Blair Athol. 49 
 
 of a heavy footstep mounting the dimly -lighted 
 stairs. Glancing down they see a man of 
 villainous aspect with a bludgeon in his hand 
 quietly wending his way upwards, looking 
 back over his shoulder, apparently to see if 
 there is any one near in that direction. In 
 an instant it flashed across Tom's mind that 
 this man was summoned by Polly, and that 
 he was coming to assist in robbing them. 
 
 They might be murdered and never heard 
 of more. He had read of such things. But 
 luckily he has all his wits about him, and 
 perhaps the champagne has inspired him 
 with unusual courage. " For your life," he 
 hurriedly whispers to Henry, " follow me, and 
 look sharp." Then quickly though quietly 
 he makes for the top of the stairs, — the man 
 being by this time more than half way up 
 them, — and, rushing down nearly headlong, 
 almost before his opponent has time to look 
 round, or to hear the warning cry of Polly, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 50 Blair Athol. 
 
 Tom Las planted the sole of his right foot 
 clean on the man's head, and hurled him 
 backwards down the steep flight of stairs. 
 '^ Quick, quick," he cries to Henry, who is 
 close at his heels, and the pair dash at break- 
 neck speed down over the inanimate hulking 
 body of the foe, and, reaching the front door, 
 open the latch with wildly -agitated hands, fly 
 into the street, and taking to their heels, run 
 as fast and as far as they can, clean away 
 from the place. 
 
 Whether the man was seriously injured or 
 even killed they never knew.
 
 Blair Athol. 51 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Afopo vov, r) rpiirodoc TrspiSioixtOov i) tXsf^rjrog 
 "Icrropa ^' Arpsidijv Ayafiifxvova 6ti6[jiiv dficpu) 
 'OTTTTOTepoi TrpocrQ' ittttoi, 'iva yvi^rjg dTroTivuJV. 
 
 Iliad, xxiii. 485. 
 
 Out of breath, exhausted, and distressed, the 
 two gay youths at length were fain to stop. 
 Whereabouts in London they were they knew 
 not, and nobody is ever likely to know, for 
 it all seemed alike to them — one confusion 
 of streets and buildings. Strangely enough, 
 however, they had ever since their arrival 
 been so bent on other and, for the time, more 
 important considerations that they had by no 
 means surveyed the vast town with that 
 astonishment which is so usual among country 
 cousins. They had, indeed, regarded it from 
 
 E 2 
 
 UKWESSITY Of iLUl»>^'-
 
 52 Blair Athol. 
 
 the most matter-of-fact point of view, being 
 intent only on their ulterior aims and objects. 
 
 Their first idea when they ceased running 
 was to congratulate one another on their 
 escape, though in reality Henry had very 
 little notion what the danger had been ; 
 their second, was rage at the loss of their 
 jewellery, which they would have such diffi- 
 culty in explaining when they got home ; and 
 then they wondered whether the man was 
 killed, and they might not find themselves 
 charged with murder. Tom cast a shuddering 
 glance over his shoulder as he saw a policeman 
 on his beat, but was relieved to find that tiie 
 officer of justice did not take any notice of 
 him. 
 
 Henry, with the beautiful, trusting nature 
 of youth, stoutly maintained that he believed 
 the reverend man, their late friend, had been 
 treacherously dealt with by the servant Polly 
 and her confederate, robbed of the watch and
 
 Blair Athol. 53 
 
 breast-pin, and perhaps murdered. Tom, who 
 was older than his companion, said he did not 
 think this was so. Which of them was right 
 must be left to the discrimination of the 
 reader. 
 
 They were well warmed by their run, but 
 as they wandered on drowsiness began to irre- 
 sistibly overcome them, and yet they could 
 not possibly sleep, for there was no place to 
 lie on. Presently it so happened that they 
 walked into St. James's Park, and there in the 
 early morning light they beheld not a few 
 sleepers, bestowed here and there on the 
 various seats, forgetful for the while of the 
 cares and troubles of their unhappy lives- 
 But our two friends were not disposed in any 
 way to stand on ceremony. They must sleep, 
 they cared not how ; so, finding two empty 
 seats, they laid themselves down, and were 
 soon far away in dreamland. 
 
 They slept calmly and well, and woke when
 
 54 Blair Athol. 
 
 it was broad daylight, nor knew what the 
 time was, for their watch was gone, and they 
 were terribly afraid they might have let the 
 time pass by so that they would fail to reach 
 Epsom. 
 
 But any one who has slept on a seat in the 
 open air w^ill know that it is at least condu- 
 cive to early rising, and so it proved in this 
 case, for it was really only about half-past 
 seven o'clock. 
 
 They arose, stretched themselves, and looked 
 around, feeling by no means the gay and 
 exuberant spirits that had pervaded them the 
 morning before. Each had a headache of 
 the worst description ; each felt stiff and 
 cold, and each was very dirty and generally 
 dishevelled. 
 
 They sat down moodily for awhile, and said 
 nothing. Presently Tom broke the silence. 
 
 '*I say, if ever we come to London again 
 we must manage it better somehow."
 
 Blair Athol. 55 
 
 '' I don't think I ever shall come again," 
 dolefully remarked Henry. " I wish we hadn't 
 come at all." 
 
 " What ! not to see Blair Athol run ! " 
 
 " Ah, yes ! that'll be worth everything ; but 
 hadn't we better be moving ? " 
 
 And so the two disconsolate ones set off 
 once more on their weary tramp, this time 
 towards the water, wherein they bathed their 
 heated brows for some time, until they actually 
 felt better. 
 
 They mentioned breakfast, but the bare idea 
 of it was repugnant to their feelings. Tom 
 said he should be sick at the sight of it; so 
 they decided not to attempt anything of the 
 kind at present, and went in the direction of 
 Westminster, to enquire by what means they 
 could best reach Epsom. 
 
 Now it so happened that they fell in with 
 a really well-disposed licensed victualler, who 
 was taking a morning's constitutional, and
 
 56 Blair Athol. 
 
 who, when he heard their roquirements, said 
 he could put them on to the very thing. A 
 friend of his was running a long "Break" 
 down to the races, and would take them for 
 six shillings each. This was better than our 
 friends expected, and they readily agreed to 
 go. By degrees their companion got out of 
 them the whole history of their expedition, 
 whereat he laughed immoderately, and insisted 
 they should come and have breakfast with him ; 
 indeed, he w^ould take no denial, and as they 
 were now feeling considerably less unhappy 
 the two consented, with little difficulty, to 
 accept his invitation. 
 
 He led them over Westminster Bridge, and 
 some distance on the Surrey side of the river, 
 till they reached his hostelry — a regular old- 
 fashioned one, with all the concomitants of a 
 buxom wife, pretty daughter, sporting pictures, 
 and general air of comfort. 
 
 Tom and Henry quite took heart of grace
 
 Blair Athol. 57 
 
 beneath the smiles of their fair hostess and 
 the good-humoured chaff of the master, so 
 that they actually found themselves able to 
 do ample justice to the substantial breakfast 
 placed before them, and to finish it off with 
 tankards of good old ale. 
 
 " There, my lads," said the landlord, " that'll 
 keep you on your legs. Blowed if I know 
 what would have become of you if I hadn't 
 met you." 
 
 His guests were profuse in their thanks to 
 him for his kindness, and said they would not 
 fail to come and see him when they returned, 
 and if Blair Athol won they would make him 
 a handsome recompense. 
 
 " Don't talk about no recompenses," said the 
 jovial host. "I'll just go and get a bit on 
 Blair Athol myself, for it seems as if some 
 fortune had brought you in my way, and I 
 must back the horse for luck." 
 
 By this time the lengthy conveyance in
 
 58 Blair Athol. 
 
 which they were to perform the journey was 
 ready, and standing some hundred yards off 
 down the road ; so they were fain to bid adieu 
 to their new friends, of whom the daughter 
 had already attracted the admiration of the 
 impressionable Tom, and, amid wishes for 
 their good luck, they took their seats, and 
 were presently driven off. It was not long 
 before the carriage was full, the occupants 
 being of a most motley kind, male and female, 
 the former chiefly noticeable for their gauze 
 veils, the latter for their flaming coloured 
 garments. 
 
 The Road to Epsom, — the crush, the dust, 
 the gay jests and repartees, the noise, the pea- 
 shooters, the flour-bags, — it is the old, old 
 story ; and is it not written year after year in 
 the columns of the Daily Telegraplt and divers 
 other papers ? Far be it from us, then, to 
 inflict an account of the journey on our 
 readers, for others have done it so often
 
 Blair Athol. 59 
 
 before that it would indeed be impossible to 
 introduce anything original into the theme. 
 
 Suffice it, that in due time Epsom was 
 reached, though not before our two heroes, 
 having been struck smartly with peas, suc- 
 ceeded in purchasing weapons, and, thanks to 
 their home practice, were able to retaliate 
 with marked effect on their enemies. 
 
 No one can fail to be impressed when first 
 coming upon the Epsom Downs on a Derby 
 day. The vast multitude of every type of 
 humanity spread far and wide. The hill, with 
 its drags and carriages, and the assembly of 
 shows, swing-boats, and other paraphernalia 
 of a fair below; the crowded stands, and the 
 utterly holiday look on every one's counten- 
 ance, far difierent, at the same time, from 
 when excited Yorkshire assembles at Don- 
 caster, for then every man is deeply intent on 
 the result of the big race. At Epsom, the 
 majority in all probability never see the race
 
 60 Blair Athol. 
 
 at all, and care little or nothing what wins ; 
 being greatly led away by the other attrac- 
 tions, such as the pure delights of Aunt Sally, 
 or the sensuous joy of gazing at the fat woman, 
 one of whose capacious dresses is exposed to 
 the jDnblic view as an advertisement. 
 
 Tom and Henry gazed open-mouthed on 
 what they saw, being now for the first time 
 since leaving home really struck in a heap ; but 
 they soon recovered themselves, and proceeded 
 to make the best of their w^ay towards the 
 race-course. 
 
 They had been told on the way down that 
 the best place for them to go to was the stand 
 opposite the winning-post, and finding that 
 they could go there by a moderate outlay, 
 they proceeded at once to take up their posi- 
 tion, determined in no case to be done out of a 
 sight of the Derby. 
 
 The time dragged wearily by while the 
 preliminary races were run, but it came at
 
 Blair Athol. 61 
 
 last, and the course was cleared for the great 
 event. 
 
 One Derby is much like another to the 
 
 casual spectator, but no one sees the general 
 
 effect of it so badly as the man who has an 
 
 excessive interest in one particular horse. So 
 
 it was with Tom and Henry. What though 
 
 others might be loud in their admiration of 
 
 Scottish Chief, or swear by General Peel, though 
 
 Ely the beautiful has many followers, and 
 
 Cambuscan inspires confidence in his trainer's 
 
 heart ; these horses might as well not haA^e 
 
 existed for all the notice our boys took of 
 
 them. Their eyes were but for one — Blair 
 
 Athol ; and when he came sweeping down 
 
 the course with old Caller Ou to show him 
 
 the way, they burst forth into superlative 
 
 expressions of praise, and denounced as idiots 
 
 those who backed anything else. There was 
 
 no mistake about it, Blair Athol did look and 
 
 go well ; and when they saw him there were
 
 62 Blair Athol. 
 
 many who, mindful of his breeding, put a bit 
 more on the splendid son of Stockwell and 
 Blink Bonny. 
 
 It was an anxious time while the lot were 
 beinor marshalled for the start : indeed Tom 
 declared he was afraid he must have got heart 
 disease ; but there came the cry *' They're ofi ! " 
 and eager eyes were strained across the course, 
 the two pair with which we are acquainted 
 being fixed but on the green and straw belt 
 which the good chestnut was bearing along 
 well in the front rank. 
 
 And now Tattenham corner is reached ; 
 wonderful indeed how it is passed, so confused 
 seem the mass of some thirty horses whirling 
 round it. Yonder they come. There is the 
 blaze face well up with them. 
 
 Hark to the shouts, " General Peel " wins — 
 "Scottish Chief." Now is the tug of war. 
 Listen to the voice of Tom suddenly bursting 
 forth, " Well, Blair Athol wins : he walks in.
 
 Blaie Athol. 63 
 
 lie absolutely walks in ! Hooray ! " and as 
 their idol passes the post an easy winner Tom 
 and Henry, losing all self-possession, hurl their 
 hats away into space, and shout at the top 
 of their voices, ever and anon turning round 
 to decry as " idiots and fools " the imaginary 
 enemies of the pride of Malton. 
 
 And now they rush down on to the course 
 to see him brought back, and as he passes 
 them in all his glory Henry absolutely bursts 
 into tears, for what reason he cannot tell. 
 From this, however, he is soon recovered by 
 the objurgations of Tom ; and then there comes 
 the welcome cry of " right," when it strikes 
 them for the first time that they have landed 
 a good stake of money, though indeed that 
 is a totally secondary consideration to their 
 minds. 
 
 But there was no more racing for them that 
 day. They would not deign to look on any- 
 thing common after what they had seen, and
 
 64 Blair Athol. 
 
 so tliey walked away on to the hill without 
 any definite purpose, simply feeling it neces- 
 sary in their great excitement to keep moving 
 somewhere. 
 
 Resisting in vain the importunities of for- 
 tune-tellers, ^'for," thought they, ''our fortune 
 is made already," they went blundering about 
 among the wheels of carriages, tumbling over 
 hampers, and generally getting in the way 
 without in any manner advantaging them- 
 selves. 
 
 Suddenly a voice was heard calling to 
 them, and they turned somewhat in dread. 
 There up on a drag was Fred Summerton, a 
 cousin of Tom's, a cornet in the 19th Smashers, 
 and loud were his expressions of astonishment. 
 " Why, what on earth are you doing here ? 
 Wonders will never cease ; but come up and 
 have a drink." Knowing that with Fred they 
 were in no danger of being reported, the 
 two willingly climbed on to the drag, and
 
 Blair Athol. 65 
 
 were soon in the enjoyment of an excellent 
 lunch, and becoming quite hilarious over the 
 champagne. 
 
 Of course they could talk of nothing but 
 Blair Athol, and the money they had won, 
 conversation which Summerton, who had 
 backed Scottish Chief, hardly cared about ; 
 but he was much amused by the story of their 
 flight from home and subsequent adventures, 
 and declared the two should drive home with 
 them, as there was plenty of room., and he 
 would show them a little life without any 
 danger. 
 
 About this time a divertino^ incident oc- 
 curred in the shape of a combat between a 
 negro minstrel and a photographer close by 
 their drag. What the subject of dispute was 
 no one knew or cared, but both were very 
 angry. The nigger, with a tiny silk hat about 
 one inch in diameter tied jauntily on one side 
 of his head, his body adorned with a calico 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 Blair Athol. 
 
 swallow-tailed coat, the tails reaching the 
 ground, and his nether man clad in large 
 striped inexpressibles, rushed, banjo in hand, 
 upon the foe, who was got up entirely with 
 a view to an appearance of respectability. 
 Respectable or not, however, he too came on 
 hotly to the encounter, clubbing bis easel with 
 apparently murderous intention. 
 
 The banjo became hors de combat at the first 
 onset, and the nigger, defenceless, awaited his 
 enraged assailant. 
 
 On he came with his upraised weapon, and 
 the nigger's fate seemed sealed, when, dexter- 
 ously ducking in beneath the descending blow, 
 he smote the photographer one, two on the 
 mouth, and between the eyes, with such right 
 good will that he fell like a pole-axed bullock, 
 and rolled in horrible confusion some little 
 distance down the hill. 
 
 On arising, the man of easels refused to 
 renew the combat, and departed on his way ;
 
 Blair Athol. 67 
 
 but the nigger received many shillings from 
 the on-lookers, to whom he had afforded a 
 merry sport. 
 
 The return journey was certainly performed 
 under more pleasant auspices than the morn- 
 ing's one ; but, saving that the excesses in the 
 war of pea-shooters and other harmless amuse- 
 ments were somewhat more rife, there was very 
 little difference in it. 
 
 Tom and Henry, whose story had now been 
 told, became quite the lions of the party on 
 their drag, especially among the ladies, and 
 the adventurous youths, now that their tongues 
 were loosed, certainly did not neglect to profit 
 by their position. 
 
 Arrived in town, Fred Summer ton took them 
 to his rooms, and succeeded in getting them 
 to look tolerably respectable, and they went 
 with him and dined at his club, by this time 
 being, in their own estimation, regular men 
 about town. 
 
 F 2
 
 68 Blaie Athol. 
 
 Somewhat to their disgust, however, after 
 dinner he said that he thought the best thing 
 they could do was to go to bed — in fact, he 
 felt responsible to their people for them, and 
 should just drive them to his place again, 
 where they could be put up for the night, and 
 have a good sleep. 
 
 They were inclined to remonstrate at first, 
 but Ered was firm, and at last they agreed ; 
 nor was it long before they were sleeping the 
 sleep of the just, wearied out with the excite- 
 ments of their expedition, too wearied indeed 
 to dream even of Blair Athol.
 
 Blair Athol. 69 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 " Discountenanced both, and discomposed : 
 Love was not in their looks, .... 
 
 But apparent guilt, 
 
 And shame, and perturbation, and despair." 
 
 Faradise Lost, x. 110. 
 
 The next morning Summerton put them into 
 a hansom, and sent them off betimes to King's 
 Cross, homeward bound ; and it was not long 
 before they were proceeding swiftly on their 
 way to the North. For a while they said 
 nothing, and occasionally even slept, not 
 having yet shaken off the effects of their very 
 unusual exertions ; but as the train went on, 
 and they felt themselves drawing nearer and 
 nearer to Yorkshire, they began not unnaturally 
 to think of their impending fate, and to muse
 
 70 Blair Athol. 
 
 on what tliey could possibly say at home in 
 excuse of their excessively heinous conduct. 
 
 ''It's no use telling lies," decided Tom; 
 '' we shall just have to say where we have 
 been, and let them do their worst. After all 
 it will be worth it, considering what we have 
 seen, and the money we have won." 
 
 But boldly though they affected to talk, their 
 hearts died within them when, after chano-inor 
 at York, they found themselves fairly en route 
 for Newton ; and it was with but a feeble 
 appearance of gaiety that they were at length 
 constrained to alight at the little station. 
 Even when there, they continued to hang 
 about, anxious to put off as long as possible 
 the evil moment when they would have to 
 approach and enter the Vicarage. 
 
 The station-master hailed them with surprise 
 in his countenance, and was good enough to 
 inform them that they had been the objects of 
 a regular hue-and-cry all the previous day and
 
 Blair Athol. 71 
 
 the present ; that they head been traced up to 
 London, where detectives had been employed 
 at great expense to follow and find them, and 
 that the whole household at the Vicarage were 
 in the greatest trouble and tribulation. 
 
 It may well be judged that these remarks 
 did not serve to reassure the perturbed youths ; 
 but they felt that there was no help for it, 
 and so, in a decidedly sheepish manner, they 
 set off to walk up the village and into the 
 house. 
 
 Whether warning of their approach had 
 been conveyed in advance of them does not 
 appear, still it is certain that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Blackburn, Mr. Jones, and the greater part of 
 the family were found sitting quietly in the 
 drawing-room, and when the two adventurers 
 entered with shame-faced expressions they 
 were not greeted with any surprise, or in any 
 way addressed as if they had not come in the 
 ordinary and usual manner. They felt inex-
 
 72 Blair Athol. . 
 
 pressibly uncomfortable, and did not know 
 where on eartli to bestow themselves. Henry 
 stumbled over and tore in a disastrous manner 
 Jessie's new dress, and Tom endeavoured to 
 assume an air of dogged nonchalance, while he 
 sat down in a clumsy, gawky manner on the 
 music-stool. 
 
 Mr. Blackburn asked Henry if it was rain- 
 ing, but the humbled sportsman was far too 
 confused to give him an answer, and then the 
 party resumed the conversation which had 
 been interrupted by the entrance of the now 
 wretched youths. Not a smile was on any 
 one's countenance, nor yet a frown ; every- 
 body seemed to be just as usual. 
 
 This sort of thino; went on for more than an 
 hour, and the suspense to the two returned 
 prodigals was something which no words can 
 explain. They scarcely dared to stir as the 
 minutes dragged slowly on, for though the 
 terrible unreality of the calm was intolerable
 
 Blair Athol. 73 
 
 to them, yet they weakly dreaded to open the 
 flood-gates of wrath by calling any attention 
 to themselves, all the while feeling, however, 
 that they would give worlds if some one would 
 set to and give them a thorough blowing-up. 
 Like the would-be suicide, who craves to die, 
 and yet dares not strike the fatal blow, they 
 longed to break the ice of reserve that sur- 
 rounded them, and yet their tongues clove to 
 the roofs of their mouths when they essayed to 
 broach the subject. 
 
 Tom at last blurted out, " Look here, I 
 know you think w^e're awful scoundrels, and 
 that we've been up to all manner of bad- 
 ness, but do give a fellow a chance to ex- 
 plain." 
 
 Mr. Blackburn turned round. "What's 
 that you say, Tom ? I didn't catch it. Come 
 here and tell us over again." 
 
 The countenance of Tom was indeed a 
 study when he was thus drawn forth from his
 
 74 Blair Athol. 
 
 corner and made to stand in full view of 
 everybody. 
 
 " Well now, what is it you were telling 
 us ? " • 
 
 Poor Tom essayed once or twice to 
 speak without success, and then burst forth, 
 " I can't talk with you all looking at me in 
 that way ; Henry, you tell them," and Tom fled 
 back to his corner. 
 
 Henry, who was blushing scarlet, and his 
 lip by this time quivering, would have made 
 but a poor show of it, only the kind-hearted 
 Jessie gave his hand a little squeeze, 
 and cast on him one encouraging glance 
 which thrilled him to the heart ; so he 
 began, — 
 
 " We have been to Epsom to see the Derby 
 run for ; it was all for Blair Athol : we wanted 
 to see him win, and he did win ; and I am 
 sure we are very sorry, and won't do so any 
 more." The eyes filled with tears despite his
 
 Blaik Athol. 75 
 
 efforts not to appear unmanly in tlie presence 
 of Jessie. 
 
 Punishments of all kinds lie could have 
 borne without a murmur, but this was 
 too much. Mr. Blackburn turned his head 
 and walked towards the window, gazing, ap- 
 parently wrapt in thought, upon the scenery. 
 Perhaps it was that he was ruminating in 
 what dread manner to punish the boys, per- 
 haps the simple narrative he had just heard 
 was carrying him back to his own young care- 
 less days, when from St. Peter's school at 
 York he too had played the truant, and stolen 
 away for more than one delicious afternoon on 
 Knavesmire when the August Meeting came 
 round. Such recollections as- these were bright 
 and sunny, nor had the subsequent and neces- 
 sary birch left one twinge to strike his thoughts, 
 and mar the general gladness of those times. 
 
 Yes, it was even so ; he could not find it 
 in his heart to deal with these boys as they
 
 76 Blair Athol. 
 
 deserved, and he knew not what to do. 
 Suddenly he bethought him of Mr. Jones. 
 " Of course, he is their tutor, he must look to 
 this ; and I'll gis^e them a lecture afterwards." 
 Then turning quietly to the boys, — " You had 
 better go into the school-room, where Mr. 
 Jones will presently come to you." 
 
 The two arose and did as they were bid, 
 while the rest of the family only waited 
 until they were out of hearing to burst 
 into fits of laughter. 
 
 The girls earnestly pleaded, however, in miti- 
 gation of punishment ; but Mr. Jones, whose 
 addresses to Jessie had not been so favour- 
 ably received by that young lady as he could 
 have wished, seemed little aifected by their 
 entreaties. Consequently the female minds 
 became irritated, not being in any way sub- 
 servient to the discipline of the worthy tutor, 
 and a free quarrel was commencing to break 
 forth when Mrs. Blackburn interposed, and
 
 Blaie, Athol. 11 
 
 Mr. Jones, in no very amiable frame of mind, 
 proceeded into the school-room. 
 
 There he found his pupils sitting. " Well, 
 boys, I hope you're ashamed of yourselves for 
 your disgraceful conduct." 
 
 The boys muttered something unintelli- 
 gibly. 
 
 "It is necessary for me," continued the 
 good man, "first to tell you the enormity 
 of the offence of which you have been guilty, 
 and to point out to you the dangers of 
 the course upon which you have entered. 
 You have deceived us all most cruelly, 
 you have alarmed those who care for you, 
 you have wasted money, and have acted 
 a lie. All this I should be disposed to for- 
 give, or at any rate treat lightly ; but, worst, 
 far worst of all, you have given way so far to 
 degrading passions as to visit a race-course. 
 This is especially distressing to me, and I am 
 sure must be to all concerned with you. I
 
 78 Blaie Athol. 
 
 will only hope that, as it is the beginning of 
 this vice in your careers, so it may be the 
 end. I trust that through ignorance you have 
 done it, — ignorance, I mean, that every one 
 connected with racing is a ruffian, a blackguard, 
 and a cheat." 
 
 This harangue seemed quite to restore the 
 fallen spirits of the boys, though it did not 
 apparently impress them in the way that their 
 worthy preceptor wished. 
 
 Henry at the juncture broke in, " Please, 
 sir, is George Crook a cheat, then ? " 
 
 " How should I know, boy ? but why do 
 you ask ? " 
 
 " Because, sir, he owes us £220 over Blair 
 Athol." 
 
 " Oh ! monstrous iniquity ! " fairly shrieked 
 Mr. Jones. " Racing and betting ! May you 
 never, never receive the money is my earnest 
 prayer ! Write out for me, both of you, the 
 ^Eneid of Virgil, and stay in every holiday till
 
 Blair Athol. 79 
 
 you have clone it." So saying, he stalked 
 from the room, leaving the two somewhat 
 aghast at the amount of the imposition, but 
 still quite relieved at having at length, so to 
 speak, settled the affair, and got a definite 
 punishment to grapple with. 
 
 They now went away upstairs, and were very 
 soon joined by the girls, who were dying with 
 curiosity to hear their adventures and what 
 they had really been doing. What seemed to 
 impress the fair audience chiefly was the win 
 of £220, and the presents which were lavishly 
 promised to them. 
 
 Mr. Jones was ''a horrid old thing," they 
 one and all declared, and they hated him. 
 Papa wouldn't have minded half so much if it 
 hadn't been for him. When were they to get 
 their £220 ? 
 
 The youths explained that they should send 
 the voucher for it to-morrow, but mentioned 
 with some apprehension that Mr. Jones had
 
 80 Blair Athol. 
 
 declared all men connected with racing to be 
 cheats. 
 
 " Oh, what can he know about it, an old 
 fright ? " cried Jessie, passing her hand lightly 
 over Henry's head, who was seated on a foot- 
 stool at her feet. *' You'll get the money all 
 right, Henry dear, I know." 
 
 "Oh 1 Jessie, I do love you so," whispered 
 the youth somewhat in consequently, to which 
 the young lady responded with a tender 
 little tap on her adorer's brow, and proceeded 
 to explain. 
 
 " I know it's all right, because Frank 
 Heatherbloom told me the other day he always 
 bet with George Crook." 
 
 Poor Henry ! and was it for this that he 
 lavished all the affection of his fresh young 
 twelve-year-old heart ? To be dashed from 
 the seventh heaven, as it were, by the accursed 
 name of that man, who was inferior to him in 
 all respects, save that he was possessed of
 
 Blair Athol. 81 
 
 moustaches, and about ten years older ! Well, 
 Jessie might kill him if she liked with 
 despair and a broken heart. He should love 
 her for ever. 
 
 It was about 9 '30 that evening when they 
 were summoned to the study of Mr. Blackburn, 
 who had established himself in the laro^cst 
 arm-chair, and assumed the aspect of judicial 
 dignity, which was his custom when on the 
 magistrate's bench. 
 
 " Now, my boys," said he, making the two 
 sit down on the sofa, " I have sent for you to 
 tell you how grieved I have been that you 
 should have acted so unfairly towards us all, 
 and caused us such alarm. Your mother, 
 Tom, was seriously ill with it, and we had to 
 call in the doctor, who said that her heart was 
 in a very dangerous condition." 
 
 Tom drew his hand across his nose with an 
 audible sniff. 
 
 " For you, Henry, I have more excuse, as 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 Blair Athol. 
 
 you are younger than Tom, who should have 
 known better than to lead you astray; but 
 you too knew that you were doing very 
 wrong." 
 
 "Yes, I did; I did know it was wrong," 
 whimpered Henry ; '' but I shouldn't have done 
 it, indeed I shouldn't, if it hadn't been to see 
 Blair Athol." 
 
 " Many people," continued Mr. Blackburn, 
 *' would call that a very poor excuse, but I 
 myself have heard worse. I have decided 
 not to inform your parents what you have 
 done this time, so as to give you another 
 chance." 
 
 " Thank you, sir ; thank you," cried Henry 
 gratefully, feeling immeasurably relieved. 
 
 " But I am in duty bound to tell you that 
 racing is a pernicious pastime, and betting, in 
 which 1 hear you have indulged, is a sure 
 pathway to ruin. All this Mr. Jones will have 
 told you, and I repeat it; but now I must
 
 Blair Athol. 83 
 
 know what you have really done, so that all 
 the mischief you have been in may be 
 apparent." 
 
 Then the boys began, and told him from 
 beginning to end the whole story ; and the 
 worthy gentleman's eyes twinkled not a little 
 at the loss of the watch, though he affected 
 extreme displeasure. 
 
 Then as the story went on, and the boys 
 became more excited over the narrative of the 
 journey from London to Epsom, he stiffened 
 his features more than ever into rigid com- 
 posure. But when in the mind's eye they 
 had taken their position on the stand, and, 
 ever breaking in one upon the other, described 
 the preliminaries of the Derby, the clerical 
 countenance began to unbend. 
 
 '* Yes, Mr. Blackburn ; and there were Scot 
 tish Chief and General Peel, favourites, and 
 Ely, and Cambuscan, and heaps of others,' 
 said Henry. 
 
 G 2
 
 84 Blair Athol. 
 
 "And they all paraded in front of us, and 
 looked beautiful," added Tom. 
 
 " No, they didn't ; it was Blair Athol that 
 looked beautiful, and he came past, led by 
 Caller Ou ; and oh ! you should just have seen 
 him go ; it was like ' oil on the ocean,' some- 
 body said. And then the race, it made you 
 feel as if your heart was coming right into 
 your throat ! " 
 
 So said Henry, and Tom took up the tale. 
 
 " And a lot of idiots kept shouting all sorts 
 of things were winning ; but I saw the white 
 face coming " 
 
 " Yes, boy, yes," broke in his father ; " go 
 
 on." 
 
 '' Oh ! I can't describe it," cried Tom. 
 " But he came stealiug along like clockwork ; 
 and Scottish Chief and General Peel, and the 
 whole boiling of them — he squandered them 
 all just like a lot of old donkeys ; and I 
 shouted, and Henry here shouted, and as he
 
 Blaih Athol. 85 
 
 passed the post we threw our hats clean away, 
 and gave such a ' hooray ' as you never heard." 
 
 *' Then," interrupted Henry, " to see him 
 looking so grand as he was led back, and all 
 the people after him." 
 
 " It must have been fine indeed, my boys ; 
 I wish I had been there with you. Good lads, 
 come on, we'll drink success to Blair Athol 
 and William TAnson." And the good divine 
 proceeded down -stairs to bring up champagne ; 
 whispering to his wife, whom he met on the 
 stairs, " It's no use, my dear ; I knew I should 
 spoil it all." 
 
 But as this part of our story is but intro- 
 ductory it behoves us to make it brief, and 
 we will therefore not dilate on the subsequent 
 events of that year — the astounding defeat of 
 Blair Athol at York by the Miner, and his 
 brilliant revenge at Doncaster, when through 
 the blinding storm of rain he bore his colours 
 once more gallantly to the fore, and fairly
 
 86 Blair Athol. 
 
 established himself as the most popular horse 
 that ever trod the turf of horse-loving York- 
 shire. 
 
 How the £220 was received by our boys, 
 and how it was spent, we shall not pause to 
 relate ; but, having fairly introduced them to 
 the reader, we shall only add that Henry the 
 next year was sent off to Eugby, while Tom 
 was located in a land agent's office at Malton, 
 and so there was for a time an uninteresting 
 severance. We shall therefore leave them for 
 the present, and pass over some four or five 
 years, hoping by that means to fairly launch 
 this history into a period of continuous 
 interest.
 
 Blair Athol. 87 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 *' Oh, mirth and innocence ! oh, milk and water ! 
 Ye happy mixture of more happy days ! 
 In these sad centuries of sin and slaughter, 
 
 Abominable man no more allays 
 His thirst with such pure beverage. No matter, 
 
 I love you both, and both shall have my praise : 
 Oh, for old Saturn's reign of Sugar Candy ! 
 Meantime I drink to your return in brandy." 
 
 Beppo, Ixxx. 
 
 It was the summer of 1868, and we find 
 ourselves and some in whom we are interested 
 at the somewhat secluded sea-side town of 
 Saltoun. 
 
 Henry and his sister Mary are there, the 
 latter in the charge of a highly acidulated old 
 maid, who has been imported into their family 
 since the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. JoUifi^e, which
 
 88 Blair Athol. 
 
 occurred within a short time of one another 
 some two years previously. The old maid in 
 question was named Miss Bloomer, and her 
 duty was simply to play propriety, which she 
 did with really provoking assiduity. 
 
 Mr. JollifFe had left his children in very 
 comfortable circumstances, and so they were 
 able to live on at the old house much in 
 the same way as before his death ; but, unfor- 
 tunately for Henry's welfare, his trustees were 
 a somewhat useless body. Two of them lived 
 at a distance, and only met on very rare 
 occasions, while the third, who was more or 
 less on the spot, was an old gentleman who 
 was said to have once been clever and business- 
 like, but who now had degenerated into a 
 decidedly inane old bachelor. He had a great 
 affection for his young ward, but no idea what- 
 ever of in any way controlling or directing 
 him ; incapable even of detecting anything 
 wrong when Henry demanded his fixed
 
 Blair Athol. 89 
 
 monthly allowance regularly every week, and 
 not only demanded, but also received it. 
 
 To such a pass had things gone that Master 
 Henry, from being the quiet, good, and studious 
 individual he at one time gave promise of, had 
 quickly developed into a regular hare-brained 
 youngster, recognizing no will but his own ; 
 and on the present occasion was staying away 
 from school and visiting Saltoun simply be- 
 cause there was no one to send him back 
 when the holidays came to an end. His sister 
 Mary, it is true, expostulated with him, but 
 to her he said he was ill, and it was necessary 
 for his health that he should go to the sea- 
 side. The family doctor being called in, Henry 
 soon succeeded in convincing that worthy 
 gentleman that he was in a very bad state 
 indeed, and thus a certificate had been ob- 
 tained and forwarded to the authorities at 
 Rugby some months before the story re-opens 
 and finds the wayward youth at Saltoun.
 
 90 Blair Athol. 
 
 But those we have mentioned were by no 
 means the whole of the party. There too was 
 Lucy Fitz Eoy, an old school-friend of Mary's, 
 and the last, but not least, was Tom Blackburn. 
 
 Let no one suppose, however, that after the 
 lapse of four years since we have last seen 
 him, Tom, being of the same mind as then, 
 was allured to Saltoun by the charms of his 
 former goddess — Mary. No, he had changed 
 all that, and seemed to regard Mary with the 
 most brother-like affection, while she would 
 often make merry jests at the reminiscences of 
 what seemed to both to have been the height 
 of youthful folly. Tom had grown amazingly 
 since we last saw him, and was now a stalwart 
 young man of the most orthodox British 
 pattern. A fresh open countenance, good 
 teeth, crisp curling light brown hair, and a 
 general appearance of boldness, strength, and 
 activity about him, which was indeed no mere 
 appearance, but a striking reality, as will be
 
 Blair Athol. 91 
 
 testified at some time in these pages. Tom 
 had plodded away for a considerable time with 
 the land-agent at Malton, and was said to be 
 very good at the business, but an accommo- 
 dating uncle had suddenly died, and enriched 
 the whole family of Blackburns, leaving Tom 
 himself no less a sum than £2000 a-year, so 
 that he was pretty independent. 
 
 It was long since his fickle fancy had 
 changed from Mary — so long, indeed, that he 
 had had time to love and cease to love others 
 also before the present date. 
 
 Among these was Lucy Fitz Roy, a very 
 pretty dark-eyed girl, with a wealth of auburn 
 hair, and a simply exquisite figure. She, 
 much of the same nature as Tom, had also 
 loved for a while ; and when she stayed with 
 Mary at Conyers Tom used to be constantly 
 in attendance, while poor Henry, who had not 
 yet attained an age that young ladies appre- 
 ciate, and who, all oblivious of his early love,
 
 92 Blair Athol. 
 
 Jessie, was now madly devoted to the fair 
 Lucy, felt himself cast into the depths of jealous 
 despondency, and would spend whole solitary 
 days out in the fields. Upon one occasion he 
 was even found to be sulking in a ditch, from 
 which he refused for long to be extracted. 
 Lucy, however, knew well how to manage 
 affairs when she once saw what was the 
 matter, and afterwards, by judicious glances 
 at the enamoured youth, and the slightest 
 apparent indications of preference, contrived 
 to keep him more or less happy, or at any rate 
 to prevent him from doing anything desperate. 
 But in no long time Tom ceased to love Lucy, 
 and she no more cared for him. Strangely 
 enough, Henry's attachment also came to an 
 end about the same period, and now they were 
 all stavino: too^ether at Saltoun under the 
 surveillance of Miss Bloomer, influenced by 
 nothing but the most platonic feelings to- 
 wards one another.
 
 JBlair Athol. 93 
 
 Henry, very different from Tom, seemed 
 hardly to have grown at all in height during 
 four years, and more than that, his figure had 
 assumed a set appearance, which augured 
 that he would never be a bior one. He was 
 now about seventeen years old, and had 
 changed in every way for the better, being 
 built in the very neatest mould, — a regular 
 model for a horseman, — with clear cut features, 
 black curly hair, bright expression, though at 
 times altered by a mysterious dreamy look 
 about his big blue eyes, which those who saw 
 generally remembered. 
 
 Despite the precepts of Mr. Jones, he had 
 never forgotten or given up racing, and indeed 
 his love for it increased with years, more 
 especially as the sons and daughters of Blair 
 Athol now began to appear upon the scene and 
 give a new zest to the sport, as far as he was 
 concerned. Blair Athol, it must be remem- 
 bered, was still his idol, and as time went on
 
 94 Blair Athol. 
 
 the pleasing recollections of the day at Epsom 
 seemed to gather strength and sweetness, so 
 that the great hero of that day was continually 
 being placed on a still more lofty pinna,cle of 
 estimation. 
 
 But Henry had not got rid of his old world 
 ideas, and was a shy, retiring sort of youth, 
 though Tom, who knew him best, said he had 
 a lot in him really. 
 
 Strictly speaking, Tom, who had passed 
 much of his time at home, was himself not 
 very forward, as the adventures of the two at 
 Saltoun presently proved. 
 
 They had not been long established before 
 they discovered one night at a concert a 
 young lady whom both declared to be 
 beautiful, and upon enquiry they found her 
 to be a Miss Hamilton. There was great 
 excitement to obtain a list of visitors, and to 
 make out her address. This done, stricken 
 with love at first sight, the two proceeded that
 
 Blaie Athol. 95 
 
 very night to patrol around the mansion, or 
 rather lodging-house, until such time as they 
 began to feel rather cold, and that the course 
 they were adopting was somewhat purposeless, 
 when they returned, downcast, to their homes, 
 confident, however, of being more successful 
 in some way or other on the morrow. 
 
 Saltoun is on the whole a most peculiar 
 place, having nothing to recommend it ex- 
 cepting perhaps a very large area of sands, 
 which, we presume, make it attractive to 
 children. These same sands, however, inas- 
 much as the town lies low, are an intolerable 
 nuisance to the adult visitor, who finds himself 
 choked and blinded at every turn of the street 
 on a windy day. The bathing would indeed 
 be good but for the fact, that the sea is almost 
 daily filled by an influx of trippers from 
 Puddlesbro, Brockton, and other decidedly 
 black places. 
 
 These, having occupied the sea, may fre-
 
 96 Blair Athol. 
 
 quently be observed busily engaged with 
 pieces of soap, washing themselves therein to 
 the best of their ability ; and in good truth 
 they generally stand much in need of the 
 operation, for to the majority the old story 
 would be found applicable enough, in which a 
 tripper enjoying a bathe is reported to have 
 said to his fellow, "Jim, thou looks varra 
 mucky." To which the pregnant answer, 
 " Why, yer know, / missed f trip last year," 
 
 But the result of all this is, that it is im- 
 possible to go in for saline ablutions at Sal- 
 toun with any degree of satisfaction, excepting 
 before breakfast, and those whose books this 
 does not suit must perforce do without it. A 
 beautiful bathing-place, at the same time, it is, 
 especially at low water, when the rocks are 
 uncovered. These, branching from points of 
 the coast some three quarters of a mile apart, 
 extend out into the sea for about a mile, 
 gradually nearing one another until they leave
 
 Blair Athol. 97 
 
 what seems a natural harbour, though in fact 
 accessible only to small boats. 
 
 Within these rocks the water is as smooth 
 as a lake, and affords a delio^htful and com- 
 paratively safe swimming ground to those 
 who care for it, there being no danger from 
 under-currents or other frightful paraphernalia 
 of the sea. 
 
 At high water it is different, for then the 
 rocks are covered, and there is no longer 
 immunity from peril. Few who have been 
 there, however, will have failed to become 
 acquainted with Mr. Skinner, the bathing- 
 machine proprietor, who is always on the 
 spot in business hours. This gentleman is 
 the great life-preserver of the place ; being a 
 most accomplished swimmer, and possessed of 
 wonderful endurance, he has, time after time, 
 distinguished himself by daring rescues ; and 
 it is well to know this, for from his manner of 
 discoursing on his prowess, and his anxiety to 
 
 VOL. 1. H
 
 98 Blair Athol. 
 
 have the hardness of his muscles felt, and 
 his strength generally observed, one is rather 
 inclined to put him down at first as somewhat 
 of a braggart, but in reality this is not so. 
 
 In those days, with the iron trade flourishing 
 at Puddlesbro, Saltoun was generally the ren- 
 dezvous of many exceedingly w^ealthy persons 
 who lived on the principle, " let us eat, drink, 
 and. be merry," without,' however, imagining 
 for a moment they would not be able to do 
 the like next day also. Making vast incomes, 
 they noue the less spent all, not seeing — as 
 how should they ? — that the end of their golden 
 eggs was at hand, the goose being about to fly 
 away, perhaps never to return. Among others 
 there was one who, in spite of the excellence 
 of trade, never could make both ends meet. 
 His name was Maxwell Middleton, and his 
 opinion of himself was considerable. Girls 
 saia he was good-looking , matrons said 
 nothing of the kind. Men scofFcd at the idea.
 
 Blair Athol. 99 
 
 The truth was, he had a very fair presence, 
 spoiled only by a singularly weak mouth. 
 This, however, he managed to completely hide 
 by the assistance of a fine moustache, and so 
 he passed muster in all respects. There were 
 many tales told of him, especially concerning 
 the reckless and almost mad manner in which 
 he had accumulated debts — a proceeding which 
 resulted in his being lodged for a while in 
 York castle, where he had been an object of 
 continued solicitude to various enamoured fair 
 ones ; and when he finally emerged, having 
 obtained for himself the soubriquet of " Spend 
 all," he had become so very notorious as to 
 inevitably attract the female mind at a British 
 watering-place. 
 
 It was not long before, through a mutual 
 friend, he was introduced to Mary Jolliffe and 
 her friend Miss Fitz Roy, and they were vastly 
 pleased with him ; so true is it that there is 
 nothing succeeds like notoriety, whether good 
 
 H 2
 
 100 Blair Athol. 
 
 or bad ; — and, where ladies are concerned, it is 
 by no means certain that the latter is not 
 more attractive. The old Adam is certainly 
 clearly shown in his daughters, — or it may be, 
 of course, the old Eve, — for the good young 
 man never has been and never will be a favour- 
 ite among them, while the reprobate is always 
 hankered after. 
 
 This same Maxwell Middleton was not long 
 in making the best of his opportunities. He 
 was devoted to music, — Lucy Fitz Roy was a 
 great songstress, — and] this known, the step to 
 his coming in to tea, and the exercise of vocal 
 powers, was not difficult. 
 
 Tom and Henry of course did not like him, 
 partly from genuine motives, and partly from 
 a dog-in-the-manger kind of feeling that 
 caused them to resent the idea of Lucy and 
 Mary preferring any one else to them, although 
 they themselves were ready enough to fall in 
 love with countless others.
 
 Blair Athol. 101 
 
 But with regard to Tom and Henry, it 
 behoves us to return to them and their doings. 
 
 On the morning of the day after they had 
 discovered the fair one we have akeady 
 mentioned, they were abroad early parading 
 on the sands, among the numbers of visitors, 
 trippers, nurses, children, and others there 
 assembled, lounging carelessly about, disturbed 
 only by the occasional rush of a tribe of 
 donkeys, which their respective boys were 
 urging on to the highest rate of speed for 
 the delectation of their motley assortment of 
 riders. 
 
 Our two youths were gazing anxiously on 
 all sides of them, to descry, if possible, Miss 
 Hamilton ; but for long they were unsuccess- 
 ful. At last, some distance from them, they 
 perceived a young damsel of neat figure and 
 attractive appearance. " There she is," cried 
 Tom, and off they set in pursuit of her. She 
 was accompanied by a friend, who also seemed
 
 102 Blatr Athol. 
 
 rather a good sort, but Tom and Henry had 
 eyes only for one. Presently they came near, 
 and, to their no small edification, the lady as 
 she passed shot towards them a wonderfully 
 meaning glance, while they had been much too 
 slow to in any way avail themselves of the op- 
 portunity thus afforded. Henry next began 
 to express doubts, and say it wasn't Miss 
 Hamilton at all, and Tom didn't feel quite 
 certain ; however, they went on after the two 
 ladies, who presently turned back and repassed 
 them, with again the same look from the 
 wicked eyes. This kind of thing was repeated 
 many times, and yet the foolish swains were 
 much too shy, owing to the retired life they 
 had led, even to put on an appropriate ex- 
 pression in return, until at last Tom, urged on 
 by Henry to do something or other, recollected 
 that among other accomplishments he could 
 squint in the most atrocious manner. If he 
 could not flash love-fires from his eyes, he
 
 Blair Athol. 103 
 
 could at least do this ; and so he went close by 
 the objects of solicitude the next time with 
 optics well nigh turned round in their sockets. 
 This produced a marked effect, as the ladies 
 were heard and seen to laugh, and had their 
 admirers been more adv^enturous it would 
 have been quite possible to use the advantage 
 thus obtained in complete furtherance of their 
 interests. But the truth is, they were most 
 shy specimens, and durst do no more ; so that, 
 after Tom had repeatedly squinted in the 
 above manner, the ladies apparently got tired 
 of the proceedings, and went off homeward, 
 leaving their admirers cursing their own 
 cowardice on the beach. All the time they 
 were not convinced in their own minds 
 whether the one was Miss Hamilton or no. 
 
 After lunch they were out again, and again 
 found their charmers, but were still irresolute, 
 and after dinner it was the same. Not to 
 weary the reader, I may as well say, in short,
 
 104 Blair Athol. 
 
 that for the space of about three weeks did 
 these wretched youths carry on the same game, 
 without getting any further, in spite of the 
 most obvious encouragement. It is true that 
 on one occasion they borrowed a pocket- 
 handkerchief from Mary, and Tom, having 
 nerved himyelf for the desperate effort, actually 
 took it up to the ladies and asked if either 
 of them had lost it. They said "No," and 
 smiled ; but Tom w^as powerless to say or do 
 more, and so they bowed and passed on, 
 leaving him speechless and hopelessly stupid. 
 
 Once even it was actually determined to go 
 and sit down on a seat where the dear ones 
 had located themselves. This was done ; but 
 the tongues of both Tom and Henry seemed 
 glued to the roofs of their mouths, and not a 
 word would come saving to one another. The 
 position indeed was one of torment, and they 
 were absolutely glad to get away. 
 
 These proceedings will, of course, appear
 
 Blair Athol. 105 
 
 sufficiently idiotic to the reader ; but the 
 narration of them will serve to show the state 
 of advancement which has been arrived at in 
 the characters of the two who have to play a 
 prominent part in this book. 
 
 Later on we shall show them in very 
 different colours. At present the only place 
 where they seemed to be thoroughly at home 
 was on horseback, and both were conscious 
 of appearing to some advantage upon such 
 occasions. Mary Jolliffe and Lucy Fitz Roy 
 were also very fond of riding, and Maxwell 
 Middleton, to judge from his own account, 
 was a mighty horseman ; so it w^as not long 
 before that gay gentleman arranged to accom- 
 pany the party on one of their expeditions. 
 Henry said he would go and order horses, 
 being particularly anxious to get one, that he 
 had noticed as being inclined to buck-jumping, 
 a's a mount for Middleton, for whom he enter- 
 tained feelings the reverse of friendly. He
 
 106 Blair Athol. 
 
 was successful in getting- the horse he wanted, 
 and he and Tom exchanged glances of delight 
 when they observed the cavalier mount in the 
 most tailor-like fashion, and take up his reins 
 in a confused bundle. 
 
 The whole party being ready, they now 
 proceeded sedately enough down to the sands ; 
 but when they arrived there Middleton's horse 
 assumed an uneasy deportment, sticking up its 
 back, and moving along at a pace somethiag 
 between a walk and a trot. Henry, who 
 was riding rather behind, thought that the 
 time was now come, and suddenly caused 
 his horse to spring forward, as if starting 
 for a gallop, pulling up again, however, 
 directly. 
 
 Middleton's horse was at once seized with 
 an emulous spirit to likewise disport itself, and, 
 as a preliminary, gave a great buck and a kick, 
 which shot its rider yards away into the soft 
 sand, whence he rose in time to see the ladies
 
 Blair Athol. 107 
 
 laughing at him, and his horse galloping back 
 to the town. 
 
 Henry offered to ride and fetch the offend- 
 in o; animal back ag-ain, but Mr. Middleton 
 declined, saying, that the saddle was one on 
 which no one could possibly ride, so he would 
 wish them good afternoon, which he did, 
 looking somewhat crest-fallen. Tom and 
 Henry did nothing during the rest of the 
 ride but chaff Mary and Lucy about the horse- 
 manship of their friend, and therein somewhat 
 defeated their own objects ; for the spirit of 
 opposition was roused in the girls, and they 
 defended Middleton in a way they certainly 
 would never have done had they been left to 
 quietly ruminate over the ridiculous exhibition 
 he had made.
 
 108 Blair Athol. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " There, ye wise saints, behold your Light, your Star — 
 Ye would be dupes and victims, and ye are ; 
 Is it enough ? or must I, while a thrill 
 Lives in your sapient bosoms, cheat you still ? " 
 
 Lalla Rookh. 
 
 Time passed on, and our two youths still con- 
 tinued their pursuit of the damsel they had 
 chosen. Henry had even written poetry to her, 
 and caused one of the donkey-boys to deliver 
 it to her on the sands, and still, despite the 
 evidently favourable reception of this missive, 
 no further move was ventured on. The lady 
 herself evidently saw that if anything was to 
 be done she must herself do it, and at length 
 she wrote upon the sands, with the end of her 
 umbrella, " an introduction seek." Eagerly 
 did her admirers when they came up peruse
 
 Blair Athol. 109 
 
 the much - prized inscription ; but all they 
 could think of to write by way of reply was, 
 *' We have sought, but found not." As a 
 brilliant after-thought, however, one of them 
 delineated a heart with an arrow stuck through 
 beneath their reply. 
 
 So they passed on, and soon observed the 
 ladies come and examine what they had 
 written. It is difficult to imagine anything 
 further that the gay damsels could have said 
 by way of encouragement under the circum- 
 stances, so they drew another similar heart and 
 passed on. To see this heart, and know there- 
 from that their attachment was reciprocated, 
 was a matter of marvellous moment to Tom 
 and Henry, who became doubly enamoured 
 from that moment. 
 
 The same night, about half-past ten o'clock, 
 their unquiet spirits would give them no rest, 
 and leaving Micldleton as usual, vocalizing 
 for the edification of the women-folk, they
 
 110 Blair Athol. 
 
 wandered forth to view the dwelling to which 
 the lovely dame always betook herself, together 
 with her companion, who was probably her 
 sister. This house was not the one in which 
 they had been told Miss Hamilton lived, but 
 that was of no importance. Their informant 
 was surely mistaken, for they had almost 
 decided by this time that it was Miss Hamilton 
 indeed with whom they were engaged. 
 
 Passing and repassing the house, they at 
 length ventured to peep in where the light 
 shone out through the chinks in the Venetian 
 blinds. There they saw, to their great aston- 
 ishment, an old obese and rubicund gentleman 
 tete-d-ttte with a tall pale old lady ; bottles, 
 glasses, hot water, and lemons dispersed ad 
 libitum over the table, while the two aged 
 parties in question appeared to have arrived 
 at a state of speechless and well nigh helpless 
 intoxication. 
 
 As they watched the lady arose, support-
 
 Blair Athol. Ill 
 
 ing herself by the table, yet swaying danger- 
 ously to and fro. Lifting with difficulty one 
 hand, she pointed menacingly at her com- 
 panion ; but, overpowered by the effort, she 
 lost her balance and fell forward among the 
 glasses on the table. 
 
 The old gentleman smiled inanely at this, 
 rubbed his nose, and then with a thoughtful 
 countenance emptied the contents of his glass 
 on the head of the lady, whereat the two 
 admiring watchers burst perforce into loud 
 laughter. "What then happened they could 
 not tell, but there was a great crashing of 
 glasses, and the light went out, after which 
 presently all was still. 
 
 So they left the place which their fancy had 
 surrounded with a halo of romance, somewhat 
 disabused of their ethereal ideas, and promising 
 themselves to investigate the matter more 
 fully the next night. 
 
 After an uneventful day they betook them-
 
 112 Blair Athol. 
 
 selves, according to their resolve, about eleven 
 o^clock at night to the mysterious mansion, 
 determined to penetrate more deeply into the 
 secret orgies of the bibulous old couple they 
 had seen. Indeed it was almost decided, in 
 case they found the same state of affairs again, 
 that they should demand admittance at the 
 door, and, boldly greeting the aged topers, 
 join their carouse, in hopes that they might 
 thereby be brought by lucky chance into com- 
 munication with the adorable daughter of the 
 house. 
 
 The moon was shining brightly, and the 
 town was very still, the steady-going inhabit- 
 ants having, as a rule, gone to their rest. No 
 policeman's footfall broke the serene silence ; 
 but hard by could be heard the quiet sighing 
 of the sea as the tide came slowly creeping in. 
 
 The house in question was one of the long 
 street which forms nearly the whole of Saltoun. 
 It was of good size, but there was no railing
 
 Blair Athol. 113 
 
 or anything to protect the bay-windows of the 
 ground-floor from the street. Almost opposite 
 was a small hotel — the Eed Bear. 
 
 Arrived on the spot, Tom and Henry imme- 
 diately proceeded to look once more into the 
 room which the previous night had rendered 
 so notable. To their disappointment, however, 
 the old man was not there, and the good lady, 
 though indeed present, and with a bottle on 
 the table, did not appear as yet, at any rate, 
 to have been imbibing too freely. As, with 
 lingering curiosity, they still watched her, 
 they were startled by the sudden advent of a 
 man, who, however, proved to be one Jack 
 Preston, a friend, and he was quite noisy in 
 his questions as to what was going on. Very 
 soon he too became silently interested in look- 
 ing through the Venetian blinds. The old 
 dame was evidently getting on good terms 
 with herself, and was vigorously attacking 
 the bottle. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 Blair Athol. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, a gust of wind 
 coming unexpectedly blew off Tom's hat with 
 a good deal of violence against the window. 
 
 With the most extraordinary alacrity the 
 lady sprang to her feet, rushed from the room 
 to the front door, and dashed it open so quickly 
 that Tom, who was standing on the side of the 
 window nearest to it, had no time to pick up 
 his hat and escape. Henry and Preston, how- 
 ever, succeeded in getting round to the other 
 side of the window, where they were effectually 
 hidden for the time being. 
 
 Tom, being thus caught, as it were, in 
 flagrante delicto, with admirable presence of 
 mind decided at once to feign drunkenness, 
 thinking, on the one hand, it would form an 
 excuse for his being there against the window, 
 apparently without aim or object ; on the other, 
 that the good house-wife might consider him a 
 kindred spirit, and invite him in. 
 
 Henry and Preston, listening intently from
 
 Blair Athol. 115 
 
 their recess, heard Tom thus addressed : " Oh ! 
 what is this I what is this ? What a sorrow 
 you are to your poor parents ! what shame and 
 grief you have brought upon them ! " 
 
 Tom, meanwhile, reeled to and fro before her, 
 purposely keeping his head down so that she 
 could not see his face. Thinking she was read- 
 ing him. a lecture on general principles, he re- 
 plied, "Don't care for my parents; say, old 
 girl, let's go in and have a drink." 
 
 Whereupon, to the unutterable astonishment 
 of the listeners, as well as that of Tom himself, 
 the " old girl " burst forth, '' Oh ! Fred, Fred, 
 my Fred ! you'll be the death of your poor 
 mother, you will ; indeed you will." 
 
 Tom, despite his surprise, was quite sharp 
 enough to see through the mistake, and kept 
 his face out of sight more diligently than ever, 
 and adopted a tone of whining contrition. 
 
 Henry and Preston could keep back no 
 longer, so anxious were they to see the sport ;
 
 IIG Blair Athol. 
 
 so, having quietly crept a little way up the 
 street, they turned and came walking back 
 like to ordinary passers-by. Of course when 
 they came to Tom and his supposed mother 
 they stopped, and enquired what was the 
 matter. 
 
 " Oh, you must know, sir," said she, 
 addressing Henry, '' we had got him out to 
 Australia, into a nice business, and we believed 
 he was quite cured, and the last accounts were 
 that he was doing so well ; but you see after 
 all /ie liCLs come hack like this,'^ pointing to Tom, 
 who had withdrawn into the shadow, and was 
 apparently propping himself against the wall. 
 
 The absurdity of the old lady's delusion in 
 takinof Tom for her own son was too much for 
 Henry, who burst out laughing in her face. 
 
 " Most unfeeling young man ! " cried she, 
 withering him with a glance, " if you liad had 
 to bear with him a hundredth part of what I 
 have you would not laugh thus."
 
 Blair Athol. 117 
 
 Henry certainly felt that, as he was not 
 supposed to know the story was anything but 
 true, it certainly did appear a little rough on 
 the aggrieved mother to laugh at her in this 
 manner ; so he hastened to make some lame 
 excuse, saying that it was only the ridiculous 
 appearance of Fred at present that had moved 
 him, but that he sympathized with her 
 deeply. 
 
 Further parley was cut short by the adorable 
 one and her friend, who turned out to be her 
 sister, coming hastily out of the house arrayed 
 in the most pleasing of dressing-gowns, and in 
 a general state of charming deshabille. Our 
 friends never for an instant doubted but that 
 they would see through the matter at once, 
 but trusted that they would be alive to the 
 fun and carry it on. So when they rushed up 
 to Tom, and, seizing him by the hands, called 
 him '^ Fred," he thought it was all sham on 
 their part, and actually stole an arm round
 
 118 Blair Athol. 
 
 one of tlieir waists, causing apparently thereby 
 intense astonishment. But now they were 
 leading him, still staggering and reluctant, 
 to the door, where stood the mother in full 
 light of the gas. 
 
 '' Come in, Fred, come in," they cried ; 
 but Tom, dreading discovery from the old 
 one, drew back, broke away from them, and 
 rushed across the road into the public house, 
 followed by a wail of dismay from his much- 
 pained relatives. 
 
 The mother was the first to speak or act. 
 *^ I shall send Jane at once for your papa ; he 
 is at the Red Lion," and in she rushed to 
 despatch the message. 
 
 Preston slipped across the road after Tom ; 
 but Henry, who could not imagine that the 
 girls also were deceived, remained with them — 
 the three now standing nearly in the middle 
 of the road. To him the two young ladies 
 were most communicative, telling him all
 
 Blair Athol. 119 
 
 about the evil propensities of their brother 
 that they had all so hoped were reformed. 
 
 " But," said Henry, still incredulous, '* are 
 you quite sure it is your brother ? " 
 
 *' Oh, yes ! " cried they both ; '' and," added 
 the adored one, *' I could tell him anywhere 
 among a thousand." 
 
 This was a staggerer for Henry, who could 
 not, however, even yet conceive that the minds 
 of three people should have arrived at such a 
 pitch of methodical idiotcy as to feel sure that 
 a person whose face they had not been able to 
 see was their brother, whom, up to that mo- 
 ment, they considered safe at the Antipodes. 
 Just then, by a happy thought, Tom came 
 walking out of the hotel in his proper person — 
 upright and sober. 
 
 " Why," said Henry, still anxious to test the 
 reality of the mistake, " here he is, is he not ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " replied the elder sister, '* Fred 
 couldn't possibly walk like that."
 
 120 Blair Athol. 
 
 Acting his part admirably, Tom walked up 
 to the group and said, " There is such a 
 drunken scoundrel in there, you never saw 
 anything like it." 
 
 Then indeed did the irony of the situation 
 become perfect, when the hitherto adorable 
 one turned fiercely on Tom, and drawing her- 
 self up, exclaimed, "Whatever you may 
 think, sir, if you have any gentlemanly feeling 
 you will refrain from such observations in my 
 presence, when I tell you that that ' drunken 
 scoundrel ' is my brother !' 
 
 Of course there was nothing for Tom to do 
 but to humble himself to the earth, and implore 
 forgiveness for his inadvertent sin. 
 
 Just then, who should walk up but the 
 father of the family, who had been called from 
 his potations at the Red Lion, and coming 
 grumbling along, was not a little astonished 
 to see his daughters, sparsely clad, holding 
 converse in the highway.
 
 Elate Athol. 121 
 
 " What is this parliamentary assembly ? " 
 he enquired ; to which his daughters made 
 answer by dashing into the story of the out- 
 rageous conduct of Fred. 
 
 The old man, though pretty well "on," 
 was so evidently more sensible in his remarks 
 than the rest of his family that Tom and 
 Henry, making some excuse, thought it wise 
 to decamp, which they did once more into 
 the hotel, where they found Preston and the 
 landlord, wdth whom they had a good laugh 
 over the adventure. 
 
 Now at last Preston said he knew the people 
 well enough. 
 
 " Their name's Hamilton, isn't it ? " asked 
 Tom. 
 
 " Hamilton ! no ; it's Jones — Jones the 
 Coroner of Puddlesbro, you know." 
 
 And so it was not Miss Hamilton after 
 nil they had been so ardently pursuing, but 
 Miss Jones ! The shock was great, and the
 
 122 Blair Athol. 
 
 revulsion of feeling violent ; but Tom and 
 Henry were not then in a state to be un- 
 duly depressed. Keflection would come with 
 the morrow. 
 
 While the party were thus comfortably 
 sitting in the bar-parlour a knock came. 
 " Would Mr. Preston be good enough to go 
 over to Mr. Jones's ? " This was alarming, 
 but there was nothing for it but to go. 
 
 The others waited expectant for his return, 
 which took place within about half-an-hour's 
 time. 
 
 " Well, what happened ? " 
 
 *' Oh," said Preston, " when I went in there 
 were the family sitting round the table as 
 solemn as judges ; and old Jones asked me if 
 his son was still here, and what he was doinor. 
 I thought it best to say he had been put to 
 bed, and seemed all right for the present. ' Is 
 he indeed ? ' cried the old man. ' I know him : 
 hell get up in the night and break all our
 
 Blair Athol. 123 
 
 windows ; he always does. A fine bill 1 shall 
 have to pay for him at the hotel too, I'll be 
 bound/ *0h, poor fellow!' broke in the old 
 woman, '1 know he's got a bad cold, for I 
 shouldnt have recognized his voice at all.' Then, 
 after a little more conversation, I bade them 
 good night and escaped." 
 
 " Capital ! " said Tom, " couldn't be better. 
 I say, landlord, I think after that we ought to 
 have some champagne, and put it down to 
 Fred Jones." 
 
 The landlord laughed, but was evidently 
 becoming puzzled as to how he should act 
 under the circumstances, not wishing to spoil 
 the joke, and yet unable to show that Fred 
 Jones really was in his house. 
 
 As he feared, Mr. Jones's servant again 
 came over, and this time asked to see him, 
 and demanded, point blank, whether Mr. Fred 
 Jones were in the house. 
 
 The landlord was obliged to say that the
 
 124 Blair Athol. 
 
 gentleman was not there to his knowledge, 
 and the servant went, very shortly to return, 
 asking Mr. Preston once more to step across 
 the road. 
 
 Somewhat in fear he set off, and again, 
 after a short interval, returned. 
 
 The old gentleman had greeted him in high 
 and mighty style. " What is this cock-and- 
 bull story, sir ? My son has never been in the 
 hotel at all as you said ; mind, sir, I will not 
 be trifled with in this manner." To which 
 Preston had replied, that he hoped Mr. Jones 
 did not mean to cast any aspersion on himself 
 or his friends. All he could say was, that 
 a man who, if Mrs. Jones was to be believed, 
 was her son, for she had so declared him in 
 his presence, had gone and lodged himself in 
 an apparently very drunken condition at the 
 hotel opposite. Of course he didn't know who 
 the man was, but had naturally concluded Mrs. 
 Jones was a good authority on the subject.
 
 Blair Athol. 125 
 
 He didn't know his (Mr. Jones's) son by sight, 
 and didn't wish to ; but had spoken on the 
 faith of Mrs. Jones's statement, and so on. In 
 the event Mr. Jones apologized to Preston, 
 and asked him to drink with them, which he 
 declined, being glad to get away. 
 
 The gay party then dispersed to their homes ; 
 and Mr. Jones was left in a state of pleasing 
 certainty that he and his family had been 
 made fools of, but, unfortunately, by some 
 person or persons unknown. 
 
 It was long before Tom and Henry could 
 bring themselves to regard this story as any- 
 thing but a brilliant dream, for the whole 
 thing seemed so incredible. In fact, the pig- 
 beaded obstinacy which should lead a mother 
 to claim as her son some one whose face she 
 cannot see, and whose voice she does not 
 recognize, — the son being up to that moment 
 supposed to be in Australia, — surpasses all 
 understanding ; and would never be written
 
 126 Blair Athol. 
 
 here were it not strictly true that the event 
 did happen. The truth of the narrative is its 
 only excuse ; were it a fiction it would be a 
 clumsy one, being, as it is, so utterly on the 
 fiice of it improbable.
 
 Blair Athol. 127 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " My love's a child, and thou canst say 
 How much his little age may be, 
 Por he was born the very day 
 
 When first I set my eyes on thee." — Moore. 
 
 We must now change the scene to another 
 house, no less a place than that wherein 
 abode the veritable Miss Hamilton, in mis- 
 take for whom the susceptible youths had 
 engaged in their long pursuit of Miss Jones. 
 
 The_ house was one of the best of those 
 facing the sea in Slingsby, which, it may be 
 well to mention, adjoins the old tow^n of Sal- 
 toun, so as to be apparently one with it, though 
 in reality far otherwise, as the rivalry between 
 the respective inhabitants amply testifies. 
 
 The two places together do not form one
 
 128 Blair Athol. 
 
 decent-sized town ; and yet to such lengths 
 of folly has their hostility carried them, that 
 they have, since the date of the events here 
 chronicled, set up opposition promenade piers 
 extending far into the sea, either one of which 
 would have been more than enough for the 
 requirements of both places. 
 
 One thing is obvious to those who look at 
 the two places, and that is, that the houses in 
 Slingsby are new^ and fairly attractive, while 
 those in Saltoun are ancient and savouring of 
 fish ; but our friends Tom and Henry were 
 completely conservative, and so went in for 
 the old place at the expense of comfort. 
 
 But let us look inside this Slingsby house, 
 to which in imagination we have been brought. 
 There are sitting at luncheon in gorgeous 
 state, and waited on by obsequious liveried 
 servants, the family of Hamilton. 
 
 Captain Hamilton comes of a good old 
 strain, and well known in the neighbourhood
 
 Blair Athol. 129 
 
 — a neat-looking little man of about fifty, and 
 withal an obvious gentleman. Somewhat 
 long in the nose he seems, but then so was 
 Cicero, if one may trust the pictures of him ; 
 and this gallant Captain is said to have done 
 her Majesty good service more than once in 
 past years. 
 
 But although a man may be bold, and ami- 
 able, and a gentleman, it by no means follows 
 that he will shape himself a clever course in 
 life ; and Captain Hamilton in his days of 
 younger folly had taken to himself Mddle. 
 St. Ange — nee, Jenny Hodgekinson — to wife, 
 and she was a ballet-girl, or what is euphe- 
 mistically spoken of as such. 
 
 Why the Captain had done this no one knew, 
 — nor indeed is it ever known why any man 
 ever makes a fool of himself in this manner, 
 — possibly because man is weak and woman's 
 wit is strong; but certain it is that he might 
 have done worse, for Jenny never gave him 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 Blair Athol. 
 
 an instant's anxiety after the knot was tied, 
 except indeed as to whether or not she would 
 be guilty of some breach of etiquette when 
 receiving or entertaining guests. On this 
 point indeed she always kept him on thorns ; 
 for her experience was absolutely nil, and her 
 mode of diction singularly devoid of aspirates 
 in moments of excitement. 
 
 As years went on, however, with the shrewd 
 instincts of her sex, she had learned much and 
 improved greatly ; but as Captain Hamilton 
 was then by no means so wealthy as the regular 
 lot of Iron Princes of the district, Mrs Hamil- 
 ton had not as yet quite gone down among 
 them, though goodness knows there were few 
 of them whose pedigrees would bear sifting. 
 
 She was very good-looking, and that was a 
 point that they, or rather their wives, could 
 not get over. She was above the middle 
 height, fair, with good complexion and beau- 
 tiful eyes, a rare figure, and a merry expression,
 
 Blair Athol. 131 
 
 that always made her a favourite with the 
 male division of her friends, and in conse- 
 quence retarded her social progress. 
 
 Her daughter Kate, at the time now spoken 
 of, was only fourteen years old, but a complete 
 prodigy for her age, as no one would have 
 guessed her at less than seventeen. She was 
 a most promising beauty, with all the gay air 
 of her mother, and a touch of refinement, 
 leavening the whole thrown in by the father. 
 Her features were simply perfect, indeed the 
 eyes were terrible in their tremulous twink-^ 
 lings of mirth, sentiment, fun, love, and mis- 
 chief. She was fair, like her mother, and her 
 figure promised to be equally good. No 
 wonder was it she had attracted the atten- 
 tion of Tom and Henry. 
 
 There were also a young brother of some 
 eight summers, named Jack, and two small 
 sisters, Ethel and Beatrice ; and supreme over 
 the family, from Kate downwards, reigned Miss 
 
 K 2
 
 132 Blair Athol. 
 
 Atkins the governess, who had perhaps hardly 
 come to years sufficiently productive of dis- 
 cretion for her post. Indeed, it is by no means 
 certain that Miss Kate and she had not 
 arrived at a mutual understanding, by which 
 the good parents might be effectually hood- 
 winked as to the proceedings of both or either 
 of them. 
 
 Kate was indeed a marvellously consummate 
 flirt, especially when her age is taken into 
 consideration, and it would have needed a 
 very strong hand indeed to keep her in check ; 
 but being, as she was, rather encouraged than 
 otherwise by Miss Atkins, it is small wonder 
 that she was ready for almost any outrageous 
 escapade. 
 
 It happened that on the occasion Tom and 
 Henry had first seen her she had also noticed 
 them ; and, whether struck by the obvious 
 admiration expressed in the shy glances Henry 
 kept casting on her, or liking the look of him,
 
 Blair Athol. 133 
 
 or by mere chance, she took a fancy to him, 
 and acknowledged on their return to Miss 
 Atkins, that there was such a nice fellow there, 
 who kept looking at her, and she was quite in 
 love with him, and Miss Atkins must help her 
 to get an introduction to him, and a lot more 
 of that sort of thing. 
 
 The bliss of Henry would indeed have been 
 great could he have heard this conversation 
 going on inside the house, but he little dreamed 
 of it ; and the next morning, to Miss Kate's 
 great disgust, she found herself obliged to go 
 off on a long-promised visit to a rich uncle 
 who lived near Arlington. 
 
 She was indeed utterly at her wits' end, for 
 she didn't know Henry's name, so couldn't 
 write to him ; and Miss Atkins didn't know 
 him by sight, so couldn't find out. 
 
 "' Oh ! do you think he will be here when I 
 come back. Miss Atkins ? " asked she. 
 
 " My dear Kate, how can I tell ? Never
 
 134 Blair Athol. 
 
 mind, you are sure to find some one else where 
 you are going," replied the governess. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! I shall never find any one 
 like him. He is just a darling ! " 
 
 From this it will be seen that Henry had 
 been idealized by the young lady's vivid 
 imagination into all that could be desirable. 
 Certain it is in a case like this that " absence 
 makes the heart grow fonder " — at any rate 
 when there is any one like Miss Atkins to 
 make a confidante of, and to whom you may 
 *' talk up " the object of your attention into 
 the highest realms of sentiment, and from 
 slight beginnings weave a fancied web of love. 
 
 It is indeed probable that, but for being able 
 to have a chat with Miss Atkinson on the sub- 
 ject of Henry, Kate would have gone away and 
 forgotten all about him very soon ; but as it 
 was, her interest was now fixed, and she went, 
 imagining herself the victim of love at first 
 sight, and in terrible tribulation at the unfor-
 
 Blair Athol. 135 
 
 tunate duty visit which had thus crossed her 
 cherished hopes. Her unsuspecting parents 
 thought that her grief was due to parting 
 with them, and highly esteemed this display 
 of filial affection, so that she was able to exact 
 from them a promise to let her return sooner 
 than had originally been intended. With this 
 slight consolation she departed, and her three 
 weeks' absence will account for the ill success 
 that Tom and Henry had in their quest after 
 her during that time. 
 
 It is perhaps needless to say, that Kate 
 Hamilton was in no way whatever like Miss 
 Jones, and how any one could ever have made 
 a mistake concerning them it is difficult to 
 understand ; but then, people have not always 
 their wits about them in such matters. 
 
 On the day at which we have now arrived 
 Ka,te had returned in great anxiety to find 
 whether the beloved one was still at Saltoun, or 
 whether he had gone and left her no trace of
 
 136 Elair Athol. 
 
 his whereabouts. Miss Atkins could not tell. 
 There was not much going on, she said : two 
 young fellows had been making fools of them- 
 selves by following that Miss Jones about 
 wherever she went, and were supposed to have 
 made some row or other where she was living 
 
 o 
 
 with her parents a night or two back. She 
 couldn't understand how they could be so 
 idiotic as to think anything of the girl. 
 
 " Who are they, Miss Atkins ? do tell me ; 
 what are they like ? " cried Kate, instinctively, 
 and half jealously guessing at the truth. 
 
 " Oh, one is called Blackburn and the other 
 Jolliffe ; they are staying with sisters and an 
 old lady in Saltoun. Mr. Blackburn is a big, 
 good-looking fellow enough ; but the other is 
 young, and, besides, too small for my taste." 
 
 " Has he black hair and big blue eyes ? " is 
 the breathless query. 
 
 '*Yes,. I believe he has, dear; rather soft- 
 looking eyes I call them."
 
 Blair Athol. 137 
 
 ** Soft-looking ! How dare you talk of him 
 in that way, Miss Atkins ? It is he, I know 
 it is he ! " 
 
 '' Who, dear ? " 
 
 " Don't pretend you don't know now. 
 Where is he ? Is his name JollifFe, do you 
 say ? I like the name. I must see him at 
 once. Oh, how I hate that Jones girl ! He 
 can't surely think much of her." 
 
 " My dear Kate, how you do run away with 
 an idea ! Mr. JollifFe may not be the indi- 
 vidual you took such a fancy to at all, though 
 I mast confess, on second consideration, he is 
 attractive enough from some points of view ; 
 but I like men, you know, and this is only a boy." 
 
 " I tell you I know it is he ; and I'll never 
 forgive you for saying he was soft-looking, 
 though you try to get out of it now. He's 
 quite old enough for me, I can tell you, though 
 any one of your age is likely enough to want 
 something older."
 
 138 Blair Athol. 
 
 "Now, Kate dear, don't be angry ; I didn't 
 say he was soft-looking, I said his eyes were, 
 — meaning dreamy-looking, sentimental, — you 
 understand," said Miss Atkins, soothingly, for 
 she could not afford to quarrel with Kate. 
 
 " Why," cried Kate, " if that's what you 
 mean, it's just the very thing I love ! " 
 
 " Of course, dear ; now there's the luncheon- 
 bell ; we will go out, and very likely see him, 
 afterwards." 
 
 80 Kate and her governess went down-stairs 
 from their secret confabulation, and Captain 
 and Mrs. Hamilton were delighted to see their 
 daughter so apparently overjoyed, at having 
 returned to them. 
 
 While luncheon was thus proceeding Captain 
 Hamilton espied, walking past their house, a 
 well-known figure. " Why, there's Leroy ! " 
 cried he. " James, run out and tell Mr. Leroy 
 we are here, and shall be glad to see him. 
 Bless my soul, how people do turn up when
 
 Blair Athol. 139 
 
 one least expects them ! " The obsequious 
 James did his bidding, and presently returned 
 with a middle-sized, rather stout gentleman, 
 with heavy moustache, and a cold, gray eye. 
 
 " Halloo, Hamilton, this is a pleasure. I 
 beg your pardon, Mrs. Hamilton ; how are 
 you, and Kate too ? I've just come down here 
 for a week or two on business. Horrid hole, 
 isn't it ? " 
 
 " Well, it's not very gay, certainly," 'said 
 Mrs. Hamilton ; *' but then it's so nice for the 
 children, and we have relations near here, you 
 know." 
 
 " Sit down and have some lunch," interposed 
 the Captain, " and we can talk afterwards. 
 James, another chair." 
 
 Mr. Leroy, however, anticipated James, and 
 placed his chair by the side of Kate, and 
 immediately began to enter into conversation 
 with her. Kate, however, seemed very absent, 
 and often at a loss for an answer to the most
 
 MO 
 
 Hlaik AriioL. 
 
 coiiiiiuMi jihtt'c rciii;irks. till lie was fain lo.tnvo 
 licr up i(U- a w liilc in dcspaii-. 
 
 Mr. LiToN . il is as well (o inciil ion licic, was 
 at this I iiiic altoiil I lint \'-l wo Ncai-s t)M, llo 
 was a solicitor l>\ itrofcssion, huf 1)\ no means 
 oontiiH'd Ills ciicr.'Mcs to Ills Ic'Mt iinatc luisinc^ss, 
 l)('in«jj rather iiuriiicil towards pi-olils nion^ 
 rapi(ll>' arcriicil llian lt\ the oriliiiar\' dull 
 routine. lie had lor some while heen in 
 alliaiiee with \arious (h'rman-Jew I'lnaneiers, 
 who tound his hi^al hnowledirc valuaMe, and 
 had li;;ured as the solicitor of many Joint, 
 stoek eompaiiit's that had heen \er\ protlt al>lo, 
 to all t'xeept the shareholders. Captain 
 llamillon he had lt\ some means rj){ an 
 ilit rodiiel ion to duiiie;' (he London seasoil 
 l)etoi\' la^t, and. heliiLi ;d»le to make hims(df 
 Ver\ pleasant when he liked, lu' had Liradually 
 crept into the pit.-ition of the Captain's family 
 solieitor; his onl\ i-eason for not speedily 
 cnriehinL;- himself iVom that position heiiii;-, that
 
 Blair Athol, 141 
 
 he had takfm a strange fancy to Kate, and 
 proposed to himself to marry her in a few 
 years' time, and thus come in for a good share 
 of money which he found was settled on her 
 by her grandmother, and also have the 
 advantage of allying himself with a well- 
 known family. 
 
 Kate was by no means averse from the 
 attentions of any male being, and so, for lack 
 of better amusement, had smiled graciously on 
 Mr. Leroy, — Frank, as she soon learned to call 
 him, — and felt quite important over the matter; 
 but now she had changed all that. She had 
 somethiug much better on hand, and '' Frank " 
 turning up at this juncture became *' Mr. 
 Leroy" once more, and positively odious to her. 
 
 He was at present engaged on behalf of his 
 London friends in negotiating the purchase of 
 some land in the vicinity of Puddlesbro, where 
 ironstone was said to exist ; and the ultimate 
 (object was the floating of the National Iron-
 
 142 Blair Athol. 
 
 works Company Limited, of which we shall 
 hear more anon. He was highly pleased, 
 however, to find the Hamiltons, for he had no 
 idea they had gone north ; and he promised 
 himself an excellent period in which to establish 
 his hold firmly on the impressionable Kate. 
 In this he did not show his customary astute- 
 ness ; for any judge of the sex could have told 
 him that a girl of fourteen, no matter how 
 much a woman she may be in appearance, is 
 not notably enduring in her attachments, and 
 he who makes play with her at first is sure to 
 be out of it in the long run. 
 
 It is quite probable Kate was already tired 
 of the artificial attentions of this admirer, and 
 would therefore in any case have avoided him ; 
 but with Henry in view the matter was quite 
 obvious. Leroy must be utterly left out in 
 the cold. 
 
 She took an early opportunity to escape 
 from the room with Miss Atkins ; and the
 
 Blaik Athol. 143 
 
 two, quickly putting on their things, slipped 
 out of the house in alarm lest the obnoxious 
 visitor should hear and wish to accompany 
 them. 
 
 It was a lovely afternoon as they strolled 
 down upon the sands. The tide was low, and 
 multitudes of bare-leo^ged children were dis- 
 porting themselves among the rocks, sailing 
 boats, collecting seaweed, catching crabs and 
 sea-anemones, or otherwise indulging in wooden 
 spade and tin-can enjoyments. Nurses sat 
 reading novels or working upon the soft sand 
 or ancient reversed boats, and all was peaceful, 
 save where a Punch and Judy was performing 
 for the edification of a motley crowd of all 
 ages, sexes, and conditions, that stood round it 
 on the beach. 
 
 But Kate and Miss Atkins cared for none 
 of these things. They walked rapidly along, 
 carefully gazing in all directions, but appar- 
 ently without result.
 
 144 Blair Athol. 
 
 " They probably are in their house yet," 
 said Miss Atkins, and the two walked on 
 silently. 
 
 Now Miss Atkins had come to the conclusion 
 that, as Kate w^as bent on attacking Henry, it 
 would be convenient enough if she selected 
 Tom for her amusement. He would do very 
 well, she thought ; in fact, she did not know 
 there was any one better in Saltoun, and then 
 there would be the pleasure of cutting out 
 Miss Jones. 
 
 So, then, Tom and Henry were thus pre- 
 destined to be victims of the governess and 
 her charge ; and all this while they were not 
 very far off, quite unconscious of the honour 
 in store for them. 
 
 As far as the governess went, of course her 
 conduct was of hopelessly bad form ; but it is 
 to be feared there are many like her. Kate, 
 on the other hand, was excusable by her youth 
 and the bad example set her ; so that the
 
 Blair Athol. 145 
 
 reader must not think too hardly of her as 
 yet. At her time of life we have most of 
 us played the fool one way or another, and 
 probably should have played it still more had 
 opportunity offered and occasion invited. 
 
 Suddenly Kate uttered a half-suppressed 
 exclamation, '' There he is ! " and looking 
 quickly in the direction indicated. Miss Atkins 
 beheld, seated on the sand against the side of 
 one of the old boats, the two Misses Jones, 
 for whom Tom appeared to be making pro- 
 digious sport from his place between them, 
 while Henry was standing on the bottom of 
 the boat, evidently shy and ill-at-ease, pre- 
 tending to evince prodigious interest as to 
 whether or not he could walk along the keel 
 without falling. At that moment he saw Kate 
 looking steadfastly at him, and blushed scarlet ; 
 then, in his nervousness, slipped and rolled 
 down on the heads and backs of Tom and the 
 ladies, causing dire confusion and dismay ; 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 Blair Athol. 
 
 while the cause of it all was fain to pass 
 on, bitterly reviling those horrid girls, and 
 wondering if Henry had hurt himself, and why 
 he had looked so confused. 
 
 Henry was in despair. He had seen the 
 goddess whom he had taken upon himself to 
 adore, the very idea of whom had now made 
 him loathe Miss Jones and her sister, because 
 his heart had been false enough to make him 
 follow them in mistake. What a mistake ! 
 '' Oh what idiots we must have been!" thought 
 he. But the terrible thing was to have thus 
 been seen by her with these counterfeit young 
 ladies, to have appeared to her as the companion 
 and admirer of these, and then to have capped 
 all by falling off the boat in that ludicrous and 
 ignominious fashion ! He had actually heard 
 her laugh ! Was ever any one seen for the 
 first time by the object of his affections under 
 more disadvantageous circumstances ? 
 
 Tom too, despite his present position, had
 
 Blair Athol. 147 
 
 observed who it was that went past. He was 
 much more matter-of-fact than Henry, but 
 even he was surprised that he should ever 
 have taken the very ordinary Miss Jones for 
 such a beauty as Kate ; and even he felt he 
 would like to dispense with the society he had 
 just been revelling in, since something so very 
 superior appeared on the scene. 
 
 In fact, the pursuit of Miss Jones had proved 
 infinitely more diverting than association with 
 her. The climax had arrived in her capture, 
 and the natural consequence of rapid cooling 
 down ensued. 
 
 But to Miss Jones this was not so at all, 
 and she was by no means disposed to retire 
 from the position she now occupied ; nay, 
 rather, when she saw Tom looking restlessly 
 around — in reality anxious to escape — she 
 whispered to him to come for a walk, and 
 the wretched Tom was obliged to go whither 
 she listed, meeting Kate and Miss Atkins once 
 
 L 2
 
 ] 4 8 Blair Athol. 
 
 more as he was taken along at a rapid pace 
 towards Maltburn. 
 
 Henry, to ^ his disgust, was left alone with 
 the young Miss Jones, sitting by the boat, 
 and knew not what to do ; he was indeed 
 thoroughly out of his element, having not yet 
 reached the age when conversation suitable for 
 the female mind flows readily to the tongue. 
 
 But the younger Miss Jones proceeded to 
 draw him out, by showing him a photograph 
 she had just had taken ; and Henry felt bound 
 to ask for it, which the lady indignantly at 
 first refused, till he waxing bolder, and she 
 more yielding, he possessed himself of the 
 cherished picture just at the moment Kate 
 and her governess walked close past on their 
 return route from behind the boat, and saw 
 what he was doing. 
 
 Henry uttered an exclamation of astonish- 
 ment, then cast an appealing look at Kate, and 
 buried his face in his hands.
 
 Blair Athol. 149 
 
 ''Nasty forward girl! How could he sit 
 there and take her photograph ? " cried Kate, 
 when they had passed on. 
 
 '* Perhaps he couldn t get away," said Miss 
 Atkins ; '' and he couldn't help taking her 
 photograph if she offered it, as I've no doubt 
 she did. I'm sure Mr. Blackburn looked 
 anxious to escape from the other ! " 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad you think so. I believe 
 you are really right. Did you see what a 
 look he gave me ? Oh, those eyes, those eyes ! 
 I hate that girl." 
 
 And now Mr. Leroy and Captain Hamilton 
 arrived on the scene, so there was no more 
 good to be done that day.
 
 150 Blair Athol. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " But since he crossed the rapid tide. 
 According to the doubtful story, 
 To woo, — and — Lord knows what beside, 
 And swam for love as I for glory. 
 
 " 'Twere hard to say who fared the best ; 
 
 Sad mortals ! Thus the gods still plague you ! 
 He lost his labour, I my jest : 
 
 Por he was drowned, and I've the ague." — Byron. 
 
 The Misses Jones were now at a discount, 
 though with difficulty avoided ; and a fresh 
 and more exciting pursuit commenced after 
 Kate and Miss Atkins. 
 
 There is no need to go into the little 
 minutiae of this — how Kate smiled invitingly, 
 and Miss Atkins glanced wickedly, or how 
 Henry became distraught with love, — quite 
 different this time from the last, — and Tom
 
 Blair Athol. 151 
 
 fell into a pleasing doubt as to whether the 
 budding charms of Kate or the matured 
 graces of Miss Atkins were the more worthy 
 of his regard. 
 
 Mr. Leroy would, so far as possible, inflict 
 his company on the ladies, or, when snubbed 
 beyond endurance and compelled to leave 
 them, would prowl around within view like an 
 evil spirit ; and already his sharp eye had 
 detected our youths, and the preference dis- 
 played towards them. Henry, who dared not 
 attempt the feat of speaking to his goddess, 
 by way of consolation made friends with her 
 brother Jack, and highly entertained that 
 urchin by treating him to donkey and pony 
 rides on the sands, dilating to him during the 
 intervals upon the excellence of his sister. All 
 these things, you may be sure. Master Jack was 
 required to retail to that young lady after- 
 wards, and much satisfaction she derived 
 therefrom.
 
 152 • Blair Athol. 
 
 But matters were growing serious. Henry 
 had absolutely attained to a poetical frame of 
 mind, and with much travail ejected from his 
 brain a series of romantic verses brilliant in 
 imagination. This was done at dead of night, ' 
 and when he had written them down he 
 showed them to Tom next morning, who had 
 pretty much the same ideas of poetry as the 
 elder Mr. Weller, yet was wise enough to know 
 that women, especially young or old ones, 
 liked that sort of thing ; consequently he 
 declared Henry had done well, and the 
 sooner they were delivered to the lady the 
 better. 
 
 This matter was soon arranged through the 
 medium of a dishcA^elled donkey-boy, one of 
 the tribe who had now become well acquainted 
 with the gentlemen who were always hiring 
 their donkeys and ponies for Jack. 
 
 It was a bright sunny morning, and Kate 
 with her governess were sitting as secluded as
 
 Blair Athol. 153 
 
 they could make themselves on one of the 
 remotest seats near the sea wall. The frequent 
 tripper was already disporting himself in his 
 various ways — various, that is, in outward 
 show, yet with the same vein of drunkenness 
 runnino; throuo^h- all, the same desire to make 
 everyone else the victim of clownish gibes and 
 jests. The sea is black with bathing humanity, 
 indiscriminate of sexes. 
 
 Here you may see five women emerge with 
 shrieks and timorous foot-dipping all from one 
 machine, imagining, when barely ancle-deep 
 they dash the ends of their hair in the brine, 
 that they have taken a thorough dip, much 
 panting and clutching at machine steps being 
 necessary to recover from it. These invariably 
 have secured the bathing-robes least matching 
 their sizes, and before long get into hopeless 
 complications, when they venture out a little 
 further, with the rude waves and their surging 
 garments, whereat arise shrieks from them, and
 
 154 Blair Athol. 
 
 unquenchable laughter from their chosen 
 swains, either on the beach or bathing near at 
 hand. 
 
 Here too you may see the stalwart John — 
 mindful mid his ablutions that he has forgotten 
 to order a repast — walk like a sea-god well- 
 nigh on to the shore, and cry aloud, '' Mary 
 Ann," and Mary Ann advance, simpering, from 
 the crowd to where the waters come lapping up 
 to her feet scarce five yards distant from him, 
 and, with a feeble effort at a blush, hearkens 
 to his behests, and hurries off to order the 
 beefsteak and onions that his soul loves. 
 
 Others take delight to tempt the dangers of 
 the deep otherwise, escorted by ancient fisher- 
 men in the most secure of boats. These 
 perhaps recover from the effects of their day's 
 pleasure sooner than any of the rest, for the 
 excess they have already indulged in ere long 
 departs from them, and they have not, when 
 they land, an affection to any further unctuous
 
 Blair Athol. 155 
 
 victuals or brain-firing drink, so that in the 
 morning they wake heartier than their fellows. 
 
 But it must not be thought these sights 
 were any source of attraction to Tom and 
 Henry. They but had eyes for that seat, some 
 hundred yards away, where they beheld the 
 ladies of their choice ; for, on mature reflection, 
 Tom had decided to arrange the matter con- 
 veniently by leaving Kate to Henry, and him- 
 self laying siege to the heart of Miss Atkins, 
 with whom his ripe experience told him he 
 could expect a much more wicked sport than 
 the other. 
 
 The Misses Jones had passed once or twice 
 and been unnoticed, so they turned and went 
 away in a rage, resolved to find other and 
 more worthy admirers. 
 
 And now with strict directions and injunc- 
 tions the poem, addressed to Miss Hamilton, 
 was entrusted to the donkey-boy and sent on 
 its way, while Tom and Henry lay on the
 
 156 Blair Athol. 
 
 soft sand in feigned nonchalance, and scarce 
 dared to look towards that seat and the ap- 
 proaching messenger for very fear and nervous 
 apprehension. Indeed, when they saw the boy 
 absolutely deliver his missive and depart 
 Henry turned away, dreading to behold it 
 scornfully torn and cast aside ; but Tom looked 
 on, and declared that they were both reading 
 it most earnestly ; so Henry gazed too, and 
 saw the sweet Kate bending over what he had 
 written, and this filled his heart with joy. 
 Presently the ladies arose and walked close 
 past where the two still lay ; and Kate, as she 
 drew Henry's very heart out of him towards 
 her, so ravishingly lovely did she appear, from 
 the sunny tresses of her shapely head to the 
 yellow sand - boots on her little feet, — this 
 fourteen years old woman, Kate, looked on him 
 with such love, such ill-suppressed invitation 
 from the wondrous darting glances of her eyes, 
 that the boy — for boy he was — stared paralysed 
 
 'A
 
 Blair Athol. 157 
 
 until she was gone, and then cursed himself 
 for an oaf and a dullard in not having availed 
 himself of the occasion. 
 
 Miss Atkins had looked mischief at Tom, 
 and Tom had winked at her, such differences 
 are there in the human race ! 
 
 But now when the plot was thickening, 
 Mr. Leroy, having spent his morning amid 
 draft agreements to purchase the laod he had 
 come after, and many other intricate arrange- 
 ments of prospectuses, engineer's reports, and 
 computed profits, bore down upon the scene, 
 and, exercising his privilege of acquaintance, 
 walked off with the disappointed dames, who 
 could hit on no scheme to rid them of his 
 odious presence. 
 
 No more during that day was opportunity 
 favourable, and in the evening Tom and Henry 
 were condemned to do duty by accompanying 
 Mary and Lucy on the sea, so as to enable 
 " that fool of a Middleton " to make one of
 
 158 Blair Athol. 
 
 the party without the presence of Miss Bloomer. 
 The voyage was -uninteresting, as there was a 
 heavy ground swell on, and when fishing was 
 attempted, and the long oily rollers carried the 
 boat with slow rise and agonizing fall up and- 
 down, when this was done, I say — well, the 
 expedition became still more uninteresting to 
 all concerned except Henry, who was a good 
 sailor, and who took a fiendish pleasure in 
 seeing Middleton go through the various 
 stages of changing colour, till with green com- 
 plexion he seized an oar and rowed, violently 
 at times, and at times feebly, all the way to 
 shore safely ; but, though supper awaited him 
 and promised music, he made excuse to go 
 home and change his coat, and was seen no 
 more that night, except indeed that Tom 
 declared that he descried him from the top- 
 most window, a melancholy figure, walking 
 alone by the sad sea-shore. 
 
 In the morning Henry received a letter
 
 Blair Athol. 159 
 
 written in a big, bold hand, and when he read 
 it the light of joy, not unmixed with mirth, 
 broke forth on his countenance, as well it 
 might do, for the letter ran thus : — 
 
 " If you love me, and would like a good 
 introduction to my people, be on the beach to- 
 morrow with a white feather in your hat, and 
 if I see that, I shall, when I go to bathe, 
 pretend to be drowning, and you must come 
 and rescue me, and then they will all be so 
 grateful to you." 
 
 No more, — but was not this enough, in all 
 conscience 1 Henry was certain who had 
 written this letter, and the excellence of the 
 conceit fairly carried him away till he remem- 
 bered he was such an indifferent swimmer : 
 still, the sea would be quite calm, and she 
 probably would not go out far ; anyhow he 
 would do it, even if he drowned himself. 
 Should he tell Tom ? no, he thought not ; it 
 would be such a joke to deceive even Tom : so
 
 160 Blair Athol. 
 
 he pulled a white feather out of his pillow and 
 stuck it in his hat before going out, and Tom 
 said he must be an idiot for doing such a 
 thing. 
 
 This was not a " trip " day, and so it was 
 possible for reasonable beings to bathe, though 
 it is seldom such an opportunity occurs at 
 Saltoun ; and down on to the beach ere long, 
 with various paraphernalia, came Kate and 
 Miss Atkins. 
 
 Soon they spied and were spied by our 
 heroes, and one glance showed Kate the white 
 feather conspicuous in Henry's hat. It was 
 enough, and without more she vanished into a 
 cumbrous bathing - machine, which anon was 
 drawn creakingly out into the smooth lake- 
 like sea. 
 
 And Henry stood and gazed at that machine 
 as if his eyes would penetrate within it ; but 
 he was thinking not of that, only anxiety 
 and excitement were strangely tempering his
 
 Blair Athol. 161 
 
 pleasure at the prospect, so that he even 
 trembled as he stood, and half fancied him- 
 self afraid. " Ha ! there she is 1 " He had 
 drawn with Tom nearer to the shore than 
 perhaps he ought ; but then there was excuse 
 when such an event was impending. Kate, 
 in the daintiest costume, was speedily diving, 
 swimming, floating,, and going through all 
 manner of evolutions, while Miss Atkins pad- 
 dled about near to the machine. 
 
 And now Henry saw his beloved going 
 further and further out, and felt that the time 
 was coming, and looked at his boots, and 
 thought for the first time, how on earth was 
 he to swim all that distance with them and 
 his clothes on ! A moment's reflection, and 
 Mr. Skinner's method, so often narrated 
 by that hero, flashed into his mind. This 
 was to ride one of the bathing - machine 
 horses out to sea instead of swimming. He 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 Blair Athol. 
 
 looked around, and saw a life-belt with rope 
 attached close by. A shriek from the sea, 
 '' Save me ! " 
 
 "Good God!" cries Tom, '^here's Miss 
 Hamilton drowning ; help — a boat 1 — Where's 
 Skinner ? " and thronging people rush aim- 
 lessly about, and women scream, and Mr. 
 Skinner is not at hand. 
 
 But Henry has seized the life-belt, knocked 
 the boy off the nearest horse, jumped on the 
 old animal's back, and urged him at a rapid 
 trot out to sea, amid the hushed and breath- 
 less silence of the spectators. Kate is a 
 long wa}^ out, and really acts the well-nigh 
 exhausted swimmer to perfection, and Henry 
 is glad to find the shallow water continues 
 for a considerable distance ; but at last the 
 old horse goes slower and slower, and then he 
 is afloat — a novel sensation to Henry, and 
 indeed to most people in this country. He 
 is now only fifty yards from his drowning
 
 Blair Athol. 163 
 
 darling, and she calls to him, for they are far 
 out of earshot of the shore, " Oh, please take 
 care ; don't bring that horse too near me, or I 
 shall be kicked. What fun this is ! Now you 
 must throw me that belt, and hold on to the 
 rope — stay, I had better sink first ; " and down 
 she goes, causing a deep-drawn sighing groan 
 to arise from the gazing throng. But she has 
 risen once more, faintly struggling, and Henry, 
 now close by, throws her the belt, which she 
 feebly grasps and rests on half inanimate. 
 The excitement of the occasion is so great 
 that Henry scarce feels the water pressing 
 round him, nor hears the snorting of the 
 astonished steed, nor thinks of where he is, — 
 only that she is there ; and it is well indeed 
 for him that there are no waves, so that the 
 horse maintains his equilibrium gallantly, and, 
 nothing loth, at the slightest indication on his 
 mouth turns homeward, towing his lovely 
 burden. 
 
 M 2
 
 164 Blair Athol. 
 
 How the people are cheering now I and 
 Henry looking back sees a merry twinkle in 
 the eye of the seeming lifeless one. That's 
 right, — the horse is aground once more, and 
 pulling in the line, while he stops for a while, 
 the gallant rescuer draws the poor damsel to 
 him, and leaning over takes her in his arms, 
 and lifts her across his saddle-bow, clasping 
 her all dripping to his heart. " Come up, 
 horse," somewhat unsentimentally he shouts, 
 and drives the old beast, now breaking into a 
 trot, to the shore, amid loud acclamations and 
 heavenward-hurled hats. " Out of the way," 
 he cries, unmindful of all this, and kicking 
 the horse into a canter, he rides off — like 
 Brian De Bois Gilbert with Rebecca — to 
 the house of the Hamiltons facing the beach 
 hard by. 
 
 And what a ride that was ! so short, so sweet ! 
 To have got that soft, rounded form actually in 
 his arms ! To press her to him, and to whisper
 
 Blair Athol. 165 
 
 words of impassioned love, while she, with a 
 mischievous light in her half - closed eyes, 
 seemed to cling to him and delight to be 
 there ! But it is over : the door is reached, 
 and she is handed over to her distracted 
 parents, who bear her in with the aid of 
 James, and, all forgetful of poor Henry, shut 
 the door and leave him there lamenting. 
 
 This was indeed unexpected, though after 
 all very natural, for all within the house 
 thought of nothing save the restoration to 
 life of the fair drowned one, subjecting her 
 confusedly to all manner of treatment pre- 
 scribed on such occasions. And Henry looked 
 at the uninviting door moodily for some while, 
 then turned and rode back upon the sands in 
 a rage, with the sea still dripping from his 
 garments, and the sun beating fiercely down 
 on his head, whose hat was now floating calmly 
 upon the glistening sea. He had not noticed 
 the loss of it.
 
 166 Blair Athol. 
 
 Many now came round him, and said how 
 well and bravely it had been done ; and even 
 Mr. Skinner, too truly great for jealousy, 
 bestowed his offering of gracious praise. Old 
 Betty the bathing-woman declared that no 
 one would have gone out that way except for 
 their sweetheart — '*' And sure they'll make a 
 bonny pair some day." 
 
 But Henry's heart was full with the shut- 
 ting of that door in his face, and he quietly 
 dismounted and walked off, nor said ever a 
 word to any one, till Tom joined him and 
 cried, — 
 
 *'My word, you have done a rare bit 
 of business ; you're all right now for 
 certain." 
 
 Then Henry broke out, " All right, indeed ! 
 Didn't you see how they left me with never a 
 word, and shut the door? They and their 
 daughter may drown twenty times over before 
 I'll go in after them again."
 
 Blair Athol. 167 
 
 " Why, you fool-! " rejoined Tom, '' did you 
 expect them to think of you before her ? You 
 were all right ; and of course all they thought 
 of at the minute was restoring her. They'll 
 be after you before this day is out, you'll 
 see." 
 
 ''Ah I" said Henry, ''perhaps I'm wrong, 
 and of course I would go in twenty times for 
 her, in any case ; but let's go home, my head 
 feels awfully bad somehow." 
 
 And Tom, looking at his companion, notes 
 that he looks very curious, and ere long has to 
 take his arm, and then to make for a seat. 
 " Keep up, old man, you're all right ; never 
 go and faint." But it is no use, Henry droops 
 and droops, and Tom has to charter an oppor- 
 tune pony- carriage to carry him on to the 
 lodgings, where, when they arrive, he lifts 
 Henry out quite insensible. 
 
 Great was the consternation at this event, 
 and a doctor was quickly summoned, who in
 
 168 Blair Athol. 
 
 no long time pronounced that it was a sun- 
 stroke, the result of losing the hat on that 
 sweltering day; that Henry must be kept 
 strictly quiet in a dark room, and not be 
 excited in any way. 
 
 Miss Bloomer undertook the charge of him, 
 for she had a strange, half-romantic love for 
 the boy, and she was ably assisted by Tom ; 
 but it was more than a day before he came to 
 himself, with a heavy throbbing weight in his 
 head, and a pressure at the back of the skull 
 which he could not understand, till by degrees 
 it was all explained to him, and, by way of 
 consolation, that Captain Hamilton had called 
 and left the very kindest of messages, and Tom 
 had been introduced to Kate, who was wild 
 with grief, and desired to see her love. Henry's 
 pale cheek flushed at this, and a happy smile 
 played upon his features for a moment ; but 
 Miss Bloomer interposed, that it was positively 
 necessary he should see no one, nor have any
 
 Blair Athol. 169 
 
 excitement, for at least a month ; and then his 
 much-wrought nerves gave way, he turned on 
 his pillow and burst into childish tears of 
 disappointment.
 
 170 Blair Athol. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Accipe nunc Danaum Insidias, et crimine ab uno 
 Disce omnes." — Virg. ' j^n.^ ii. 65. . 
 
 We will pass away from the Saltoun scene, 
 leaving Henry in a precarious state, Kate 
 distracted by what had occurred, Tom morose 
 and barely susceptible to any charms when he 
 walked out alone, and Middleton hanging 
 about biding the event, and determined to go 
 in for Mary in earnest should Henry die. 
 
 In the back parlour of Mr. John Jamieson, 
 trainer, Malton, that worthy and Mr. Leroy 
 were sitting. It was late in the evening, and 
 the room was redolent with steamino^ ^lasses 
 of whiskey. Mr. Jamieson and Mr. Leroy 
 were sitting opposite one another by the fire.
 
 Blair Athol. 171 
 
 and talking on some evidently interesting 
 subject. 
 
 The trainer was a stout man, with a fat 
 open countenance, and straightforward ex- 
 pression, but nevertheless strange stories were 
 told of him, for all of which he had some 
 specious defence ; and from training Derby 
 favourites, and being among the head of his 
 profession, he had descended to a small stable 
 at Malton, where he had a few horses of Mr. 
 Leroy's, and other notably sharp customers. 
 
 No one seemed to know precisely what harm 
 or wrong he had done to cause him to thus 
 come down in the world ; but then in those 
 days certain matters were not winked at in 
 the same fashion they are now, — such as 
 rushing the public, through the medium 
 of the Sporting Papers, on to brutes that 
 never can have a ghost of a chance for the 
 big races for which they are backed, — or stop- 
 ping a horse, as a matter of course, if the
 
 172 Blatr Athol. 
 
 particular event for which he is started does 
 not happen to be "his journey." This was no 
 doubt done in past time ; but there was then 
 a sin in being found out which does not now 
 appear to exist, unless the culprit be a small 
 man without noble patrons. 
 
 However it came about, Jamieson was on 
 the down line, and association with Mr. Leroy, 
 and need of money, had not improved his 
 morals ; so that many events had been pulled 
 off, to the great detriment of the public, or lost, 
 to the equal detriment of that highly respect- 
 able body. The best horse in the stable was 
 Bartimseus, a six-year-old, with one eye, that 
 had done good service, winning always when 
 wanted, and being equally accommodating if a 
 defeat was required. The rest were miserable 
 selling platers, some of w^hich the public, 
 however, persistently fastened on for every 
 handicap in which they were entered, and so 
 they served their turn, as the stable always
 
 Blair Athol. 173 
 
 secured the public money upon such occasions, 
 and the horses seldom if ever ran. If they 
 did run they were invariably beaten, but 
 the wise public shook its sagacious head, and 
 said they were not " spinning." 
 
 The public indeed generally has some mys- 
 terious favourites of this kind, which have no 
 doubt been sedulously put about as good 
 things by the stable, for causes that are obvious 
 enough ; but why people are so obstinate, and 
 always back a horse the more the longer it is 
 kept without winning, and are not to be 
 driven off, goodness knows. Probably they 
 think " this horse would never be kept in 
 training so long if there were not a good race in 
 him," nor dream how all this time the money 
 of themselves and brother idiots has been 
 flowing into the coffers of the stable. 
 
 Now Jamieson, as has been premised, had 
 seen better days than this, and at times his 
 soul even now rebelled at the insignificance of
 
 174 Blair Athol. 
 
 the proceedings, the lack of credit, the want 
 of self-satisfaction, and the feeling that this 
 hawkish procedure was mean and despicable. 
 So, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air as 
 he took his long clay pipe from his mouth, 
 he remarked, "Mr. Leroy, I'm thinking of 
 cutting this game ; it aint good enough." 
 
 "Nonsense, Jamieson; surely you've made 
 a good lot in the last year ; what more do you 
 want ? " 
 
 "It's not that, sir. I feel I'm lost with 
 these horses ; any stable-lad is good enough to 
 train them, except old Bartimseus, and he's 
 about done. I want some good stuff to work 
 upon, sir, that's what it is." 
 
 ^'Well," said Leroy, replenishing his glass 
 and growing communicative, " you mustn't 
 think of going yet awhile. You see I've been 
 short of capital the last year or so, or you 
 should have had something good, and my 
 friends have been in the same boat as myself;
 
 Blair Athol. 175 
 
 but I will say, no one could have made a lot 
 of worthless brutes pay better than you have 
 done : why, there are plenty of your modern 
 trainers, with first class horses, haven't made 
 half the money ! " 
 
 A gratified smile stole over the trainer's 
 features ; he loved to hear himself exalted at 
 the expense of younger men. 
 
 " But," said he, " do you see your way to 
 anything better ? " 
 
 " Yes, I'm glad to' say I do, as the matter 
 I have in hand is very likely to come ofi", 
 and then my friends and I will clear ninety 
 thousand pounds." 
 
 ''My eye!" cried Jamieson, "we can do 
 some good then ; but how will you get this 
 money ? " 
 
 " Well, let me see, how can I make you 
 understand ? You know what a Joint Stock 
 Company is, don't you ? " 
 
 '* Yes, of course."
 
 176 Blair Athol. 
 
 '* Has it ever struck you that somebody 
 must get up joint stock companies, at soaie 
 trouble, else they wouldn't exist ? " 
 
 ** Why, I never thought about it : but no 
 doubt some one has it to do." 
 
 *^ And you agree that those who put the 
 thing into shape have a right to be paid for 
 their work and trouble ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "Well, we are getting up, or what they 
 call ' floating,' the National Iron Works Com- 
 pany, Limited, and we are to be paid £90,000 
 for doing it." 
 
 *' By George, Mr. Leroy ! but they're open- 
 handed people, whoever they are, in that Com- 
 pany. How did you manage to get .them to 
 stand so much ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I see you're very green in these 
 matters. My dear sir, the Company has no 
 say in the matter at all. I see you don't 
 understand, so I'll explain it to you.
 
 Blair Athol. 177 
 
 "I find the land where ironstone is supposed 
 to be, near Middlesbro, and I get it under 
 offer at a certain price — a hundred thousand. 
 I report to my friends that all is right, and 
 then I arrange with the proprietor that we 
 shall make a company to buy his land, and he 
 shall be one of the first directors. 
 
 ''The price to be asked the Company is a 
 hundred and ninety thousand, and I make an 
 agreement with him, that ninety thousand of 
 that goes to me and my friends." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Jamieson ; " but how do 
 you get the Company to buy it at that price?" 
 
 *' Oh ! that's easy enough. I bring down a 
 surveyor and an engineer or two that I know, 
 and they make first-class reports of the pro- 
 perty. Seven of my friends, or their clerks, 
 sign for a share a-piece in the Company, and 
 so we get it registered. Before that, one of us 
 has agreed, as trustee for the Company, to buy 
 the property for the sum asked ; and then 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 Blair Athol. 
 
 when we are registered we have the seller, and 
 two or three others whom we put in as directors, 
 and they adopt the purchase : so it is settled. 
 
 " After that we flash advertisements and 
 prospectuses about among all the clergymen, 
 old maiden ladies with limited incomes, and 
 other idiots, telling them how they will get 
 twenty per cent, for their money ; and they 
 tumble to it at once, and take all the shares. 
 I assure you the thing is as good as over. 
 I have arranged everything right." 
 
 "Well," said Jamieson, "that is a rum 
 game ; but it's much the same thing as you 
 and me quarrelled with Jack Barstow about 
 when we sent him to buy old Bartimaeus, and 
 Job Skelton ofl"ered the horse to him at six 
 hundred guineas, but Jack made him ask us 
 seven hundred, and give him the extra hundred 
 when we paid. You were terribly riled when 
 you found that out, Mr. Leroy." 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course ; but a private trans-
 
 Blair Athol. 179 
 
 action like that is very different from dealing 
 with the public." 
 
 "Ay, I suppose that's it; but I wish you 
 could do something for me now, sir. Couldn't 
 you get hold of some young gentleman with 
 plenty of money who could send me some 
 horses ? " 
 
 " I've been thinking of that," replied Leroy, 
 " and I fancy I've spotted one, if not two, at 
 Saltoun now ; but I shall be able to tell you 
 more when I go back there. They've all the 
 necessary money between them, that's certain, 
 and I feel confident good may be made out of 
 them." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Leroy, you're the strangest 
 gentleman I ever saw — always an eye open 
 for everything." 
 
 " Of course ; how else can one live in these 
 days ? But it's getting late, and we've drunk 
 quite plenty, so I'm off to bed ; " and this 
 pleasing specimen of a lawyer departed placidly 
 
 N 2
 
 180 Blair Athol. 
 
 to his hotel, leaving his trainer wrapped in 
 meditation. 
 
 It was perfectly true that he had arranged 
 to his own satisfaction the scheme which he 
 had explained to Jamieson. 
 
 Sir Irving Allix, M.P., was in difficulties, 
 and happened to own a piece of land near 
 Puddlesbro, which might or might not contain 
 ironstone. He had no means of developing it, 
 at any rate, and there appeared a great chance 
 of his havinor to sell it at what miofht turn out 
 to be far below its value. It had so chanced 
 he was recommended to consult Leroy about 
 his financial affairs ; and that astute individual, 
 well knowing the rage of people for anything 
 connected with iron in those days, saw at 
 once how the matter might be turned to 
 account. 
 
 Sir Irving Allix was a well-meaning, but 
 by no means sharp-witted, individual, and he 
 readily agreed that the promoter's profits
 
 Blair Athol. 181 
 
 sliould form part of the purchase-money he 
 was to charge the Company for the pro- 
 perty. 
 
 '' For," said Leroy, '^ it will cost us a lot 
 to float this Company to buy your land, and 
 we can only look to you to pay us for the 
 trouble and risk ; but then, of course, you must 
 get the money you pay us from the Company. 
 
 That's only fliir." 
 
 " But," urged Sir Irving, "the Company 
 may not feel disposed to pay so large a sum 
 for ironstone." 
 
 " You never fear that. There's no occasion 
 to tell them what they pay. If I get reports 
 from competent men that the property is well 
 bought at a hundred and ninety thousand, 
 that's all the Company want to know. The 
 Company have no business with you and me ; 
 and whether you have all the money for 
 yourself, or whether you hand over part of 
 it to me, is no concern of theirs."
 
 182 Blair Athol. 
 
 " No, of course not," said Sir Irving ; " I 
 
 o 
 
 understand you now." 
 
 " Very good ; but as there are always a lot 
 of meddlesome busy-bodies about, trying to 
 put a spoke in the wheel of everything with 
 which they have nothing to do, you take care 
 and not talk about this. You have made this 
 agreement to hand over ninety thousand to 
 my friends and myself; well, let that be be- 
 tween ourselves, there is no need to mention 
 it." 
 
 "That seems reasonable enough," replied 
 the baronet, now becoming bewildered ; " but I 
 really don't understand these things, so I am 
 sure I had better leave myself entirely in your 
 hands. I am quite willing to be chairman of 
 the Company, as you ask me." 
 
 *' That's right ; you'll have £500 a-year 
 for it, and little to do. The only necessary 
 thing now is for you to transfer the property 
 to my friend Mr. LazarefF, who will act as
 
 Blair Athol. 183 
 
 trustee for the Company until it is formed. 
 He will agree to give £190,000, at certain 
 specified intervals, and then you and the 
 other directors, as soon as the Company is 
 registered, will adopt his contract. I'll take 
 care you have a board that won't make any 
 objection to it. We must have some working 
 capital, I suppose ; so we'll make the first issue 
 of shares for £250,000. That'll be about the 
 mark, I should think." 
 
 Sir Irving had some while back given up 
 all attempt to follow the intricacies of Mr. 
 Leroy's plan; but, having a child-like confidence 
 that it was all right, he did just as he was bid, 
 and the affair was settled. 
 
 Leroy set to work at once on the prelimi- 
 naries, and all seemed favourable to his pulling 
 off a big thing at last. He had calculated 
 that about £5000 was the limit of what the 
 promotion could cost, and his friends were 
 ready with that sum ; so that if the Company
 
 184 Blair Athol. 
 
 only floated, as it was sure to do, they would 
 make £85,000 nett profit. 
 
 He was obliged to stay a considerable time 
 at Saltoun getting all matters of detail, such 
 as reports, &c., into order; and it was only as 
 a brief holiday that he had taken a journey 
 over to Malton to see the horses. 
 
 He had persuaded Captain Hamilton already 
 to take a seat at the board, knowing well 
 that his name would look well, and also that 
 he was much too idle to take any active 
 interest in the Company's proceedings. The 
 other directors he left for his friends in London 
 to select. 
 
 Such was the promising scheme which was 
 prepared for the benefit of the British public ; 
 and such the men that were to act in a 
 fiduciary capacity for the as yet unformed 
 Company.
 
 Blair Athol. 185 
 
 • CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " A horse ! a Lorse ! my kingdom for a horse ! " 
 
 Richard III. 
 
 For four or five weeks Henry was not allowed 
 to stir out of the house ; and though Miss 
 Bloomer read Waverley Novels innumerable to 
 him, yet, inasmuch as she never permitted any 
 one else to see him in the day time, he felt the 
 hours drag very heavily. Unfortunately, Tom 
 fell ill, followed shortly by Mary, and then 
 the maid Betsy became similarly afflicted. 
 
 What was the matter with them no one 
 ever knew ; but the Doctor said it was low 
 fever, and there must be a drain or something 
 wrong in the house, which latter remark is 
 more than probable.
 
 186 Blair Athol. 
 
 Only Lucy and Miss Bloomer remained in 
 any way fit to get about. The household 
 consequently became a most melancholy one ; 
 but the time passed, and all the patients were 
 convalescent, Henry having gone through a 
 long course of leeches on the temples, blisters 
 on the back of the neck, hot bottles to the 
 feet, medicines styled "febrifuges" by the 
 doctor, ice on the head, food consisting of 
 oysters, and drink of champagne in sparing 
 doses. 
 
 All this was now over, and it remained only 
 to regain strength, which was rapidly done by 
 an increasing appetite, and the superior vital 
 powers of youth. There is nothing so delicious 
 as the return to strength, which is valued so 
 much the more by comparison with what we 
 have so lately been. We never know the 
 worth of anything till we lose, or run a chance 
 of losing, it. No child values its home until 
 it has been sent to school ; and the person
 
 Blair Athol. 187 
 
 who has never known a day's illness has no 
 idea how great a blessing health really is. 
 
 But the time of convalescence has additional 
 charms. The languor left on us by the ordeal 
 through which we have gone is, in its way, 
 delightful ; then there is the enjoyment of 
 life-renovating food — enjoyment which is very 
 far apart from that of the merely sensual 
 glutton, but the true and honest outcome of 
 the demands of reviving nature ; and, above 
 all, there is the prospect opening once more so 
 brightly out of darkness, that all seems to be 
 happy, and sunshiny, and gay, in the dawning 
 future. 
 
 And Henry during this while dreamed a 
 wonderful dream, continuing it night by night 
 in proper sequence ; but it is too long to set 
 out here, only it may be mentioned, that 
 it thrilled with the wildest adventures, and 
 amused with the most ludicrous catastrophes 
 all who heard it.
 
 188 Blair Athol. 
 
 Indeed, there was the greatest excitement 
 every morning to hear Henry's dream, and 
 the greatest care taken lest he should be 
 wakened while dreaming. 
 
 It may be stated, however, that he himself 
 and Kate Hamilton always figured conspicu- 
 ously in it, sometimes to his entire satisfaction, 
 sometimes in a way that he could not under- 
 stand, especially in the last chapter of it, 
 when he thought he stood by a beautiful 
 palace in the night time, whence came 
 dreamy delightful strains of music, and lights 
 shone, and all seemed alive with happiness 
 and mirth. He drew nearer, and folding 
 windows opened out upon the lawn wdiere he 
 stood, and disclosed to him a scene of Eastern 
 magnificence, drawn no doubt from his imagin- 
 ation, that had been strongly imbued with 
 ' Lalla Kookh,' his then favourite poem. And 
 he could hear or observe that everywhere else 
 there was feasting and jollity ; but in this
 
 Blair Athol. 189 
 
 room was Kate alone, gauzily attiied, reclining 
 on a couch of exquisite workmanship ; and as 
 he stared she saw him, and stretched out her 
 lovely rounded arms, and whispered in a voice 
 that roused all the fires within his heart, 
 " Come, darling, come/' 
 
 Henry made a step forward, and paused. 
 He seemed to himself to know that he was 
 bound, so far as duty went, to cross a long 
 bleak moor, that stretched far, far away into 
 the darkness from near the palace walls. But 
 he thought, *' Why should I wander over there ? 
 How do I know that it is my duty ? Perhaps 
 it is all a mistake ; I know nothing definite 
 about it, only a sort of feeling." 
 
 Then from the palace the music came clearer, 
 wafted to him on the voluptuous air, and 
 Kate, to his fevered imagination, grew more 
 and more alluring and more divinely fair, and 
 he could hear sweet voices, whose words and 
 sounds stole upon him and drevv him on, still
 
 190 Blair Athol. 
 
 half uneasily glancing at the barren waste to 
 which \\A felt that he ought rather to turn. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " Come, here is love and never-ending joy, 
 
 And here is sweet oblivion of care, — 
 No worldly woes thy gladness to alloy, — 
 All toil and misery thou leavest there. 
 Thy love before thee, 
 Behold, is waiting : 
 Let bliss steal o'er thee, 
 All else abating. 
 
 " Come, here is rest, and freshly .-blooming charms, 
 
 And fire that waxes and not wanes with age 3 
 Here peaceful stay, locked in thy loved one's arms, 
 Nor with the world thy weary conflict wage. 
 Turn then to pleasure, 
 
 List, — we invite thee, — 
 And, thy own treasure. 
 She shall requite thee." 
 
 Henry was giving way rapidly now, indeed 
 it is not too much to say he had given way, 
 and was moving forward into the romantic 
 palace of love, when the sound of a horse's 
 hoofs broke upon his ears, and he paused.
 
 Blair Athol. 191 
 
 "What should come cantering up but Blair 
 Athol, proud and magnificent, ready saddled 
 and bridled ! He stopped quietly and stood 
 by Henry, into whose mind there now rushed 
 the conflicting desire to spring on to the back 
 of the horse he so much loved, and ride him 
 across that moor just for the sake of riding 
 him. That, thought he, will indeed be com- 
 bining duty with pleasure ; and with one 
 more look at Kate, now rapidly growing less 
 attractive in his eyes, he mounted the mighty 
 chestnut, and went sweeping away over the 
 dark and barren waste, fairly revelling in the 
 smooth elastic stride of the horse, and the 
 knowledge that he was mounted on Blair 
 Athol. . 
 
 All this seemed ridiculous and fantastic 
 enough when Henry narrated it next morning, 
 but subsequent events certainly imparted to it 
 an apparent meaning. 
 
 The time came at last when the invalids
 
 192 Blair Athol. 
 
 went tottering forth, to find, alas! the whole 
 place changed. The faces they loved to look 
 on were gone, and the winds were beginning 
 to blow cold upon the depopulated beach. 
 
 They were very weakly as yet, and their 
 knees s^ave beneath their attenuated frames 
 when they essayed to walk do^^^l the slope 
 from the sea-wall. They could but progress 
 a few hundred yards and then lono-ed for a 
 seat, which they saw close by ; but it was 
 standing in the shade, and they were minded 
 to convey it into the lingering warmth of the 
 summer's sun. The seat was a light one, such 
 as a boy could easily have carried, but Tom 
 and Henry vainly strove, so weak were they, 
 and were giving it up in despair, when who 
 should come up but Leroy, who asked to be 
 allowed to help them ? They felt grateful for 
 his assistance, and he took the opportunity of 
 making their acquaintance, while they felt 
 drawn towards him now, as being a link
 
 Blair Athol. 193 
 
 between them and the family of Hamilton. 
 He commiserated with them on their weak 
 condition, chatted pleasantly on racing and 
 other congenial topics, and by degrees so in- 
 gratiated himself with them, that the intimacy 
 thus begun was continued and confirmed, 
 and Leroy was introduced to Miss Bloomer and 
 the girls, so that he was now on a footing to 
 commence his confidential proposals. 
 
 He very soon saw that Henry, at any rate, 
 was ripe for a speculation on the turf ; but he 
 somewhat mistook the niotives that were at 
 work in his young friend. He himself could 
 not understand racing or race-horses in any 
 other light than as a means to an end — and 
 that end money. The idea of any one having 
 a sentimental love for a parti3ular horse, or a 
 passion for the sport itself without any of its 
 adventitious allurements, was to him beyond 
 comprehension, though he had seen writing 
 to that efiect. 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 Blair Athol. 
 
 He had spent much time in recommending 
 Jamieson as a trainer ; and as the youths 
 grew stronger, and able to sit up at night, 
 charmed them by anecdotes of that gentleman, 
 interspersed with bits of rare turf lore, such 
 as would have delighted even the *' Druid." 
 Tom was always a wary bird with money ; 
 but Henry was young, had an unlimited 
 supply, and was beginning to feel more and 
 more what a pleasure it would be to run 
 horses of his own. 
 
 " But then, I will only have Blair Athols," 
 said he, thinking aloud. 
 
 " Why only Blair Athols ? " asked Leroy, 
 in whose rooms they were sitting late one 
 evening. 
 
 " Because Blair Athol is the best horse we 
 ever had, and I mean to stick to him and 
 his stock always." 
 
 Leroy smiled incredulously. " Would you 
 tw^o like to go over to Malton with me to-
 
 Blair Athol. 195 
 
 morrow and see the horses ? " The two fairly 
 jumped at the offer, and it was settled they 
 should start early, telegraphing to Jamieson 
 to keep the horses in till they arrived. " I'll 
 show you something worth looking at ; though 
 I'm sorry to say my business matters are now 
 so pressing, I shall have to sell them all before 
 long." 
 
 "Are there any Blair Atliols among them?" 
 asked Henry. 
 
 " No ; but they are good horses." 
 
 " Oh ! but I shouldn't care to win with 
 anything that wasn't by Blair Athol." 
 
 " What nonsense ! " broke in Leroy. " Black- 
 burn, you must teach him better than that, or 
 he'll never do any good." 
 
 " I believe Blair Athol's stock will be 
 first rate," replied Tom ; " but that's no 
 reason of course why we should despise 
 others." 
 
 *' Of course not. Anyhow, we start to- 
 
 2
 
 196 Blair Athol. 
 
 morrow morning at 7.30, and you shall see 
 some real good ones." 
 
 Tom ruminated. " I know/' he continued, 
 " you have a good horse called Bartimaeus, but 
 the others haven't done much." 
 
 *' No, my boy ; they are ' dark ' as yet. The 
 time will come — but I mustn't tell even you ; 
 only I don't mind letting you know I have a 
 three-year-old that can beat Bartimseus at 
 71bs. What think you of that ? " 
 
 " Why, it's good enough to win the Leger ! " 
 cried Tom. 
 
 " I know that : so I think we may conclude 
 the horse will win some day. However, it's 
 no use talking now. I, for one, can't get up 
 early if we stay up late ; so don't mind my 
 asking you to go." 
 
 Tom and Henry went home in high spirits 
 at the prospect of their next day, and ponder- 
 ing wakefully during the night, Henry decided 
 that he would indeed have some horses, and
 
 Blair Athol. 197 
 
 let Jamieson, the much-skilled, train them ; but 
 he felt it as a matter of superstitious duty 
 that the first he owned must be a Blair Athol ; 
 and suddenly he bethought him of a two-year- 
 old filly by that horse that belonged to a 
 farmer near Northallerton, and had run on 
 several occasions, home- trained, and as fat as a 
 bull. The filly was a good-looking one, and 
 rarely bred, her dam being by Lanercost, 
 grandam by Touchstone, great-grandam by 
 Whisker. Here was a rare combination of the 
 Darley Arabian. 
 
 Now this filly had last run in a selling race, 
 and no one had claimed her at £50. She was 
 about last then, and her owner was now known 
 to be somewhat hard up. Henry came to the 
 conclusion he could secure the filly by sending 
 a cheque for £100 for her ; and also that, under 
 the superior treatment of Jamieson, she would 
 likely enough make a good one. 
 
 It is doubtful if he ever went to sleep at
 
 198 Blair Athol. 
 
 all that night. Anyhow he was up preter- 
 naturally early, and communicated his resolve 
 to Tom, who approved of it ; and so the cheque 
 was drawn, and the letter enclosing it, by way 
 of offer for the filly, was despatched before 
 they went off to the station. 
 
 At the station they found Leroy, who at 
 first looked slightly annoyed when he heard 
 Henry had commenced purchasing in extrane- 
 ous quarters ; but he soon saw that this would 
 in no way interfere with his game, so entered 
 with interest into all the details about the filly. 
 After a full account, he quite agreed that 
 Jamieson would probably be able to develope 
 something really good out of her ; " but," said 
 he, " of course you'll need something to gallop 
 her with, and as I am selling off, I don t know 
 what you'll do if Bartimseus and all the good 
 ones go out of the stable." 
 
 This remark gave Henry occasion to ponder 
 over it most of the way to Malton, so that
 
 Blaik Athol. 199 
 
 Tom and Leroy had the conversation pretty- 
 much to themselves. 
 
 In due time they arrived at the station, and 
 as they were waiting to have their, tickets 
 collected, Henry at length broke silence. 
 " How much shall you be asking for Barti- 
 mseus, Mr Leroy ? " 
 
 *' Oh ! well, he should be cheap enough to 
 any one at three thousand guineas. I shan't 
 take less than that for him." 
 
 Henry relapsed into silence at this, for 
 though he had well-nigh made up his mind to 
 purchase the horse, he had thought five 
 hundred guineas would be a sufficient sum to 
 enable him to do so. He expected he could 
 screw that amount out of his guardian with 
 little difficulty ; but three thousand was out of 
 the questioD. 
 
 Leroy, quick in reading expression, saw 
 what was passing in his mind, and added : 
 " Of course, selling horses for prices like
 
 200 Blair Athol. 
 
 that, one doesn't ask for money down, or 
 anything of that sort, with people one knows. 
 If you are thinking of buying a few you 
 musn't go paying for them all at once, 
 for it is totally unnecessary, and they soon 
 win the money themselves. Not one man 
 in twenty of those that own race-horses can 
 afford to do without credit." 
 
 Henry began to like the appearance of 
 things much better, and took an opportunity 
 to speak aside in the station with Tom about 
 what he contemplated. Tom advised him to 
 wait yet awhile, at any rate ; and presently 
 they were driven up to Jamieson's house. 
 
 Jamieson came out with beaming, lionest 
 countenance to meet them ; his wife clean and 
 tidy, smilingly respectable, in the rear, and the 
 air of comfort inside the dwelling impressed 
 our two youths most favourably. Not less 
 were they impressed by the goodly breakfast 
 that awaited them, replete with all the fresh
 
 Blair Athol. 201 
 
 delicacies from the farm, to which they and 
 Leroy did ample justice ; while Jamieson 
 chatted pleasantly, yet deferentially, with 
 them, branching off into topics of entrancing 
 interest to any one who really cares for anec- 
 dotes of ancient and worthy horses. Leroy 
 soon told him how Henry had bought the 
 Blair Athol filly to put under his charge, at 
 which he expressed himself much pleased. 
 
 '' See that picture there," said he, " of 
 Cormorant, winner of the Leger, trained by 
 me. Why that horse was bought just the 
 same way as you're getting this filly ! My 
 dear, just put us out the bottles and some 
 water, while the horses are being got ready. 
 Irish whiskey, Mr. Jolliffe ? Mr. Blackburn, 
 sir, what will you have ? Nay, nay, that's 
 only a thimbleful. Teetotal again, Mr. 
 Leroy ? I'm sorry to hear it. Well, gentle- 
 men, I bought Cormorant for Lord Dunning- 
 ton, and every one said I must be a fool,
 
 202 Blair Athol. 
 
 for the horse hadn't shown any form at 
 all. But, bless you ! I could see how that 
 was — his feet had been allowed to get into a 
 shocking bad state, so that he w^ent like an 
 old woman in pattens. But I soon got that 
 right, and brought him out for the Champagne 
 at Doncaster. We got a lot of money on 
 him, and he won anyhow. We laid him by 
 for the Derby, and I backed him myself to 
 win £20,000. Lord Dunnington, he stood to 
 win £100,000 on him, and altogether he 
 was a very bad horse for the ring. Now 
 Tom Jones was to ride him, and before the 
 race I got three anonymous letters, warning 
 me not to put Jones up. I showed them to 
 his lordship, but her ladyship had a great 
 fancy for Jones, and wouldn't hear of any one 
 else having the mount ; so it had to be so. 
 Now, sir, I don't like to say anything against 
 any one, but the way the book-makers peppered 
 that horse before the day was a caution, and it
 
 Blair Athol. 203 
 
 was plain something must be wrong. Well, I 
 told Tom not to hurry him at the start, but to 
 let him have plenty of time to get into his 
 stride, as he was such a big one. The horse 
 was as quiet as a sheep, and a child could hold 
 him ; but that Bill Tomlinson — I believe he 
 was in the swim — went and made twenty false 
 starts with a brute he was riding, and what 
 should Jones do but jump my horse oflf first 
 every time, and let him go right away ever so 
 far before he pulled him up. 
 
 "You can imagine what I felt like, sir, 
 watching this from where I was, just at the 
 back of Lord Dunnington's box. I couldn't 
 bear it, and broke out to some extent against 
 Tom Jones, and Lady Dunningtou, she turned 
 and looked quite angry with me ; but they 
 were off at last, and there did Jones send 
 Cormorant away in front from the very start. 
 
 'That d d scoundrel is trying to burst 
 
 our horse,' I shouted ; and so he was, I have no
 
 204 Blair Athol. 
 
 doubt ; but he didn't know how good the 
 horse was, for when he rode him in his trial I 
 made him believe he had seven pounds less up 
 than he really had. 
 
 " Well, to make a long story short, he came 
 ramming along, expecting every moment to have 
 got to the bottom of Cormorant ; but he got 
 nearer and nearer home, and stdl the horse did 
 not stop, and Jones was no doubt in a regular 
 blue funk now, for the people would see if he 
 deliberately stopped him. Just past the bell 
 Leopold, the favourite, made his effort ; but it 
 seemed as if he couldn't possibly get up, till 
 Jones, who had kept still till fifty yards from 
 home, sat down and just pulled Cormor- 
 ant out of his stride with one jag at his head. 
 I never saw anything done more cleverly, for 
 he ran an awful risk of being seen, and it 
 must have been in desperation at the last he 
 attempted it. But nothing was ever said about 
 it, only that he had finished nervously. Even
 
 Blair Athol. 205 
 
 then I thought we had won ; but the judge 
 said not. And now, gentlemen, the horses 
 have goue on, and if you please we'll drive 
 after them." 
 
 The party were very soon located in Jamie- 
 son's pony-carriage, and were carried away on 
 to Langton Wold, as fast as the lethargic old 
 cob could be induced to travel. 
 
 It was late in the day for horses to do their 
 work, and so they found they had it pretty 
 much to themselves, which was all the more 
 pleasant, and they were able to give their un- 
 divided attention to Jamieson's horses, which 
 was just what Leroy wanted. 
 
 The string, mustering only nine, were walk- 
 ing quietly about, and, at a signal from Jamie- 
 son, the boys rode up and paraded round him 
 and his visitors. Being set off with neat, 
 clean-looking clothing, the horses made a 
 very respectable show; and Tom, as well as 
 Henry, was much struck with the appearance
 
 206 Blair Athol. 
 
 of Bartimseus — a powerful weight- carrying 
 chestnut, with a queer old-fashioned look about 
 his Roman nose, and his tail cut short like a 
 hunter's. There were one or two other good- 
 looking horses enough, and the light middles 
 or bad shoulders of the rest were sufficiently 
 hid by the clothing. 
 
 " There's a two-year-old filly there, Miriam, 
 by Newminster, that has never run yet : she's 
 always been unlucky in going amiss just as 
 she was fit, but she will do a rare good thing 
 some day," said Leroy. " I wouldn't change 
 her for any other at Mai ton." 
 
 Henry and Tom gazed with rapt interest, 
 and perpetual questions, which sometimes 
 Jamieson, sometimes Leroy, answered ; until 
 at last the latter said, 
 
 " You're a nice light weight, JoUifi'e ; would 
 you like a ride on Bartima^us 1 " 
 
 Henry's eyes sparkled with delight at 
 the idea. '' Indeed I should, if you are
 
 Blair Athol. 207 
 
 quite sure you don't mind trusting him 
 with me." 
 
 " Oh, don't think anything of that ; he 
 can take care of himself, and I know you can 
 ride. Blackburn, you're sadly too big, but 
 you must be put up on something. Here, Joe, 
 get down off old Jezabel ; she'll carry you all 
 right, and you'll never have had such a mount 
 in your life." 
 
 Jamieson was looking very surly at this 
 extraordinary interference with his horses, 
 and was about to expostulate, when Leroy 
 stopped him with a frown and a wink, then 
 took an opportunity to whisper, " The young 
 one will buy Bartimseus to a certainty after 
 he has ridden him, perhaps all the others as 
 well. You'll stand in with me, of course." 
 
 The trainer remained silent thereupon, but 
 hardly looked satisfied. 
 
 Meanwhile, Tom and Henry, who were 
 already well primed with whiskey, had sue-
 
 &> 
 
 208 Blair Athol. 
 
 ceeded in getting the stirrups to their liking, 
 and mounting their respective steeds. 
 
 Bartimseus was as quiet as a sheep, but 
 Jezabel was much disposed to rid herself of 
 her new incumbrance. Tom, however, could 
 ride well enough, and so had no difficulty in 
 reducing her to reason. 
 
 " Now then," said Jamieson, '* just walk 
 gently back up there, and then bring them 
 along for a mile three parts speed ; " — this to 
 the boy who was to lead them. " Mr. JoUilFe, 
 you'll follow him second ; Mr. Blackburn, 
 you had better go last, or that mare will very 
 likely bolt if she hears anything behind her." 
 
 Accordingly they walked off, and Henry 
 felt quite delighted with the whole thing ; it 
 was such a grand thing to be riding a horse 
 like Bartimseus. The boys appeared to be 
 grinning to one another at him and Tom ; but 
 what did that matter ? Tom certainly did 
 look very large and cumbrous on the weedy
 
 Blair Athol. 209 
 
 old mare ; but Bartimseus seemed so powerful, 
 so muscular, and his movements so elastic and 
 springy, it was really worth anything to be on 
 his back. And now the time was come for 
 the gallop, and the leader went rattling away, 
 followed by Henry and the rest, whipped in 
 by Tom with Jezabel yawing and pulling to 
 get to the frout. Three parts speed it might 
 be, thought Henry ; but he certainly had never 
 gone so fast, or anything like it. It was really 
 beautiful to feel the fresh air rustling past, 
 and the exquisite smoothness of the horse's 
 stride. Bartimaeus might be handled by an 
 infant, and Henry, who was a nice neat horse- 
 man, fairly revelled in his gallop ; so that 
 when they pulled up, and with flushed cheeks 
 and a bit of fire now in his eyes he rode up to 
 Leroy and Jamieson, he had resolved to make 
 the horse his own. 
 
 " Capital ! " shouted Leroy ; " you and the 
 horse seem made for one another." 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 Blair Athol. 
 
 And Henry, dismounting, said straight out, 
 " Well, if you'll sell liim to me on the terms 
 you said, I'll buy him." 
 
 Leroy was overjoyed at this success, bat 
 did not show a sign of it outv/ardly, and rather 
 expressed regret now it came to the point to 
 part with the horse. 
 
 "However," said he, " I suppose I must, 
 and I'm sure you'll appreciate him better than 
 any one I know." 
 
 So it was settled. 
 
 Now Leroy had purposed selling others of 
 his lot to Henry ; but Jamieson had some 
 little honest feeling left, and also wanted some 
 fresh ones into his stable ; so when he saw 
 what Leroy was after, he frankly told him 
 that he should not allow Henry to buy any 
 of them, except Bartimseus, without objecting. 
 
 This conversation had been carried on while 
 the gallop was proceeding ; and though Leroy 
 was angry at first, he dared not quarrel with
 
 Blair Athol. 211 
 
 his trainer, so yielded with the best grace he 
 could. 
 
 Jamieson was determined Henry should 
 spend his money, if at all, on somethinoj that 
 would do liim credit, and was not by any 
 means satisfied even with the sale of Bartimaeus. 
 " For you know, Mr. Leroy," he argued, " the 
 horse is not worth five hundred guineas. He 
 is six years old, gets weighted out of all the 
 handicaps, and is not good enough for cups ; 
 however, he is a good honest horse, and I may 
 pick up another race or two with him for the 
 young gentleman before long." 
 
 Much more whiskey was drunk on the re- 
 turn of the party to the trainer's house, and 
 long and earnest was the confabulation of 
 Tom and Henry with him on the subject of 
 the new purchase ; and at intervals between 
 his remarks on the prospects of Bartimseus he 
 contrived to edge in suggestions about cheap 
 yearlings to be picked up at Doncaster, and 
 
 P 2
 
 212 Blair Athol. 
 
 the way future Derby winners had gone 
 begging there, until Henry and even Tom 
 became quite smitten with the desire to thus 
 coin money by the aid of Jamieson's experi- 
 enced judgment. 
 
 Leroy, being satisfied with his day, was very 
 amiable, and when it was train time the two 
 young ones declared they had never spent a 
 more pleasant morning. 
 
 They arrived at Saltoun in due course, and 
 Henry handed Leroy a cheque for £500, and 
 was thereafter initiated by that worthy into 
 the mysteries of accepting various bills for the 
 balance of £2500 — " merely as a matter of 
 form." Thus was Henry started on a turf 
 career.
 
 Blair Athol. 213 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " With a hi ho, Chivy !— 
 Hark forward ! " — Old Song. 
 
 ** See ray brave pack : now to the head they press, 
 Jostling in close array, then, more diffuse, 
 Obliquely wheel, while from their opening mouths 
 The vollied thunder breaks." — SomervUle. 
 
 Time has again passed on. The Blair Athol 
 filly has been some while in Jamieson's hands. 
 Saltoun has been deserted, and Henry with 
 his sister are now staying at the old Newton 
 vicarage, where several of Tom's sisters have 
 grown out into fair and eomely maidens since 
 we last saw them. 
 
 Bartimseus has been well beaten, both in the 
 Ebar Handicap and the York Cup, for both of 
 which events Henry insisted on backing him,
 
 214 Blair Athol. 
 
 despite the entreaties of his trainer, and was 
 of course disappointed at the result ; but was 
 comforted by the reflection that the horse 
 would get better into the spring handicaps 
 now. 
 
 As for the filly, it was judged best not to 
 attempt to prepare her for any race at present, 
 but get her fit for the beginning of next season, 
 when, owing to the bad form she had shown, 
 she would be very leniently treated by the 
 handicappers. 
 
 Two yearlings bought at Doncaster had 
 been added to the string. They were selected 
 by Jamieson, with a proviso that he was to 
 buy Blair Athols, if possible, and it so happened 
 
 he was able to do so to his entire satisfaction. 
 
 They were both colts, and certainly seemed a 
 
 great bargain at three hundred guineas for the 
 
 two. 
 
 Kate Hamilton had been unable to endure 
 
 a complete absence from her love for very
 
 Blair Athol. 215 
 
 long, and had devised the expedient of starting 
 a correspondence, nominally from her brother 
 Jack, to whom Henry replied, treating at great 
 length on that young gentleman's sister ; and 
 thus things were being carried on at the 
 present time — Jack's letters gradually resolv- 
 ing themselves into nothino^ but messas^es 
 from Kate, and Henry's into messages to her. 
 
 It was now the hunting season, and great 
 sport was going on in the neighbourhood with 
 the various packs that came within easy dis- 
 tance of the village of Newton. 
 
 Both Henry and Tom, it is perhaps unneces- 
 sary to mention, were very keen after this 
 manner of sport, and they had a few real good 
 nags in the stables which had now been added 
 to the ancient tumble-down and cowhouse- 
 looking arrangements that for many years 
 had served the needs of the good Vicar. Mary 
 Jollifie also affected hunting, and was the 
 possessor of one of the cleverest little horses
 
 216 Blair Athol. 
 
 ever seen, so that she was .able always to show 
 a bold fiont in the fastest runs, riding with 
 that recklessness which seems natural to 
 women. 
 
 A. very merry party they were at the 
 Vicarage. Henry and Mary had found life at 
 their old house with Miss Bloomer hopelessly 
 dull, and the result was, they made overtures 
 to Mr. Blackburn, who \\^as very happy to 
 arrange matters with them ; and so they came 
 to live in his house, which was a completely 
 successful settlement of the difficulty, especially 
 so far as Henry was concerned, for he had 
 been there before, as we have heard, under 
 Mr. Jones. 
 
 The deaf man Thomas was still in Mr. 
 Blackburn's service, though the sport of teasing 
 him had grown out of date. He had occasion- 
 ally an opportunity of paying out his old 
 tormentors, and never neglected to avail him- 
 self of it. In this way he had especially
 
 Blair Athol. 217 
 
 distinguished himself, when the girls had bribed 
 him a short while back to secretly release a 
 badger which Henry had become so nefarious 
 as to keep at the abode of a sporting old 
 woodcutter in the village. The said badger 
 was very large and fierce, and the few inter- 
 views he had with the fox-terriers did not 
 incommode him greatly, so that he had not 
 been living a very bad sort of life. The girls, 
 however, said it was brutally cruel ; hence the 
 mission of Thomas, who at daybreak stole to 
 the badger's house, and after that the badger 
 w^as seen no more. It was said he had escaped. 
 Tom and Henry scoured the country with dogs 
 for several days ; the girls laughed to them- 
 selves ; Thomas pocketed his reward. 
 
 Nob for some years afterwards did it 
 transpire that Thomas, in pursuance of his 
 intention to turn the animal down in the open 
 fields, had caught it by the tail, and thus 
 proceeded to carry it at arm's length to the
 
 218 Blair Athol. 
 
 place where he proposed to release it, some 
 hundred yards or so away. A badger is an 
 awkward brute to carry, even by the tail, as it 
 can curl up so as to very nearly bite your 
 hand; and whether this one had alarmed 
 Thomas into partially dropping it, or whether 
 its weight caused him to flag in his efforts to 
 keep it at arm's length, will never be known ; 
 certain it is, he suffered its head to come into 
 all too dangerous proximity, insomuch that 
 it was enabled to reach round and just snap 
 him in the thigh. A badger's bite is eminently 
 painful ; Thomas was uncommonly passionate, 
 and so he incontinently dashed that badger 
 against the trunk of a tree so that it died. 
 After that he buried it, put some oils on his 
 leg, told the fair bribers that his task was 
 done, and was paid accordingly. 
 
 But not to digress, we must go on to say 
 that it was now an evening near Christmas 
 time, and Henry had been very nearly a year
 
 Blair Athol. 219 
 
 away from school. " Not that it matters," said 
 he, " for now I am in the sixth form, and we 
 never change places there, but just go up as 
 fellows leave who are above us ; so I shall be 
 nearly head of the school when I go back." 
 
 " I've been thinking," said Tom, paying no 
 attention to Henry's remark, " as to-morrow 
 is Christmas Eve, we should have a day 
 something out of the common. How would 
 it be to go out with Jack Parker and the 
 Sinnington V 
 
 " Isn't it a horrid, bad, hilly country ? " 
 
 ** No, not about Nunnington, where they 
 meet to-morrow. I really think we ought to 
 go ; it will be a change." 
 
 '' All right," said Henry ; " I'll ride Skittles 
 then. She's clever enough for anything 
 wherever we go. Mary, you had best stop 
 at home, I should think." 
 
 " And why, pray ? " broke in Mary, who 
 had been looking abstractedly at an album
 
 220 Blair Athol. 
 
 wherein was the photograph of the inane 
 Middleton. 
 
 ''Oh, it'll be too rough for ladies, won't it, 
 Tom ? " 
 
 Tom agreed, and Mary was unceremoniously 
 relegated into the stay-at-home division for 
 the next day. 
 
 Up betimes in the morning, the two 
 sportsmen breakfasted, and set off by train 
 with their horses to Nunnington. They arrived 
 safely in due course ; and amid the gaping 
 wonderment of various assembled yokels, who 
 were not much accustomed to the sight of 
 red coats coming by train, they superin- 
 tended the unboxing of their steeds, and were 
 presently mounted, and jogging on to the 
 place where the meet was to be. 
 
 It is a strange country in the main, this 
 Sinnington, — at least to the modern gener- 
 ation, — placed as it is rather outside the pale of 
 improved farming, and therefore abounding in
 
 Blair Athol. 221 
 
 vast old ragged fences, such as used to tear the 
 coat-tails off our hard-riding fathers in days 
 gone by. 
 
 There is something truly alluring about one 
 
 of these old-world hedges, as distinguished 
 
 from the neat- trimmed stake and bound of 
 
 the present time. There is a savour of sport 
 
 pervading it, perhaps from the feeling that 
 
 when the birds are wild, and the cover all 
 
 gone, a spot like this would surely attract 
 
 them, and the worthy spaniel would spring 
 
 them for you by degrees, so that you would 
 
 obtain a rare bag ; while in the new country 
 
 men would toil, and fire long shots in vain. 
 
 Even the bustling little terrier can make merry 
 
 with the rabbits here, and bolt them for you, 
 
 or run them to ground, when, if you choose, 
 
 you can call in the wily ferret to your aid. 
 
 Then as you go on you will surely encounter 
 
 the well-fatted hare, and indeed you will 
 
 spend n thoroughly enjoyable day — that is, if
 
 222 Blair Athol. 
 
 you can appreciate such matters, and have not 
 been spoiled by " drives " and " battues." 
 
 But the Sinnington fences are not the only 
 peculiarity of the country, for wild though 
 they are, they yet do not prevent the portion 
 of it around Nunnington from being very good 
 going, and flat withal ; but when you get into 
 the hills, then indeed, unless you are to the 
 manner born, you will be astonished and 
 perplexed, half desirous, if you are young, to 
 get off and proceed in safety on foot. 
 
 These hills get wilder and more difficult for 
 the ordinary horseman as you proceed — here 
 and there well-nigh precipitous over away 
 past Helmsley ; but the natives think nothing 
 of it, mounted on their rough horses or active 
 ponies, while you tremble for your neck, or 
 find that, having come out without a breast- 
 plate, your saddle slips back on to the horse's 
 tail as he is making his supreme effort to land 
 you up some dangerous ascent. It is positively
 
 Blair Athol. 223 
 
 awful to see Jack Parker shove his horse along 
 down these terrible places, with the most utter 
 disregard of all chances of a fall ; not even 
 looking, to all appearance, where he is going, 
 but bent solely on his business, with his eye 
 on the irregular pack, who are ascending with 
 plentiful music the opposite side of the "gill/' 
 
 But as to Jack Parker it is necessary to say 
 something. He is the facsimile of the immortal 
 James Pigg, both in appearance and manner. 
 The same hard, weather-beaten countenance, 
 the same sandy hair, the same eyes twinkling 
 with wonderful dry wit, somewhat tall and 
 heavy for a huntsman, but for all that one of 
 the sort that ^'nivver gits off." 
 
 In those days Jack had all his hounds 
 " at walk " among the various farmers of the 
 district, as there were no regular kennels, and 
 it used to be most interesting to see them 
 all dispersing this way and that to their 
 respective homes when the day was over. A
 
 224 Blair Athol. 
 
 sufficient subscription was maintained to pay 
 Jack, and enable him to keep two horses, — he 
 never had more, — and he had to make shift 
 as best he could to obtain volunteer " whips " 
 from among the young farmers. 
 
 At no time of the year was he idle. He 
 would even engage himself in August to go off 
 on to the moors, and play the keeper — a pro- 
 ceeding that would, I should say, fairly horrify 
 most of our modern huntsmen. Jack did it, 
 notwithstanding, and was in great request, 
 being a clever man with dogs, and very enter- 
 taining withal to any party with whom he was 
 out. At times his love of sport would break 
 out in badger-hunting ; and rare fun it used to 
 be, on a moonlight night, pursuing the rampant 
 "brock" with terriers, and running him into 
 the sack prepared for his reception at the 
 mouth of his earth. 
 
 Jack would occasionally deign to come down 
 into the York and Ainsty, or Lord Middleton's
 
 Blair Athol. 225 
 
 country, and have a day on his own account ; 
 never being able, however, to rid himself of 
 the idea that men who were got up so neatly 
 could not be up to much. On one occasion, 
 which is well remembered, when the hounds 
 were at fault near Raskelf, and the worthy 
 master of the York and Ainsty was about 
 trying a small larch plantation to the left of 
 where Jack was stationed, he, Jack, pointing 
 to a bit of cover on the right of him, opened 
 his mouth and spoke : " Coom back, man I 
 f thing ^at yoiire looking for 's gedn doon there.''' 
 This was said with great disdain, and an 
 expression as if a York and Ainsty fox were 
 wholly unworthy of the name. 
 
 But to return to the day in question. Every- 
 thing seemed favourable for sport, though a 
 long delay was necessitated by Lord Never- 
 sham, who, though not even nominally the 
 master, was the principal subscriber to the 
 hounds, and had to be treated with deference, 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 Blair Athol. 
 
 no matter how exasperating his late hours 
 made him to those who arrived in time. 
 
 There were some thirty mounted men at the 
 meet, including those who bestrode ponies and 
 donkeys, the majority being farmers with 
 rough unkempt young horses, that might 
 develop into something some day ; while there 
 were a few business-like old sportsmen, who 
 looked as though they meant to see the fun, 
 though they might not be able to go any great 
 pace. 
 
 Jack Parker helped the time to pass more 
 lightly by liis rough quips and cranks, especially 
 on this occasion taking Tom and Henry for 
 his butts, and prophesying how he would show 
 " them York chaps a think or two " before the 
 day was over. 
 
 At last, about twelve o'clock, there was a 
 relieved cry of " Here he comes ; " and sure 
 enough Lord Neversham came gaily cantering 
 up, attended by his hopeful heir. Lord Tillersley,
 
 Blair Athol. 227 
 
 with two men who might have been second 
 horsemen, but were really destined for much 
 heavier work. 
 
 Every one tried to look as if they had not 
 been inwardly cursing his lordship for more 
 than an hour, and he, after a casual remark 
 that he feared he was rather late, seemed to 
 think no more about it. 
 
 A strange pack did the Sinnington appear 
 in those days to any one who scanned them as 
 we may be supposed to do, now trotting along 
 to cover ; very irregular were they, strange in 
 colour, running most, however, to the light 
 mealy shades, such as you see little of in 
 fashionable packs, though to my mind usually 
 associated with sterling qualifications. Some 
 there were throaty in the extreme, and " dew- 
 lapped like Thessalian bulls," others clean cut 
 and light-timbered. One — a York and Ainsty 
 hound — ran mute, and withal ran to such 
 purpose that he always far outstripped the 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 Blair Athol. 
 
 rest, and had been known to kill single-handed. 
 There had been many doubts as to how to deal 
 with this hound ; but his nose was so undeni- 
 ably good that he was of great service at 
 times, and in his case Mr. Jorrocks' advice 
 was taken, "Be to his faults a little blind, 
 and to his virtues ever kind." 
 
 Some one had at length happily suggested 
 that he should be weighted so as to reduce his 
 pace, and this was carried out at leugtli with 
 such nicety, that he was adjusted by sundry 
 bags of shot attached to his neck exactly to 
 required speed. It then became necessary 
 only to give him a voice, but no scheme had 
 been devised to perfect him in this particular. 
 
 Whatever the appearance of these hounds 
 was, however, they certainly were most un- 
 deniable for their stoutness and perseverance ; 
 while long habits of self-reliance, gained on the 
 many occasions when they had to make out 
 their fox where no huntsman could get near
 
 Blair Athol. 229 
 
 them, had taught them to cast themselves in a 
 manner that their more fashionable brethren 
 might do well to imitate, instead of throwing 
 up their heads and looking for assistance as 
 soon as ever there is a difficulty. 
 
 But behold them now just flashing into 
 cover, and see them, as it were, twinkling 
 among the trees, the busy sterns betokening 
 the keen desire for sport. Old Jack's face 
 beams as he watches and encourages them 
 with rather more than necessary clamour. 
 Lord Neversham has come to a small rail that 
 he mast needs surmount, and is pouring forth 
 curses to the empty air, because the two men 
 whom he has brought out for tlds very purpose 
 are not there to pull it down for him. They 
 arrive in due course, having lagged behind on 
 the supposition some one will stand treat at 
 the wayside hotel, and now, as they canter up 
 wiping their mouths, they encounter a torrent 
 of wordy wrath from his lordship ; but they
 
 230 Blair Athol. 
 
 seem used to it, and quietly pull the rail 
 out with unperturbed countenances, while 
 their dread Lord passes on. 
 
 Presently Henry comes upon Lord Never- 
 sham behind a hedge applying himself dili- 
 gently to a large flask — a rather strange 
 performance, considering the day has but just 
 begun ; and that Henry thought so his face 
 must have showed, for Lord Neversham 
 remarked by way of explanation : " Ah ! when 
 you get to my age you'll find it necessary to 
 take some jumping-powder before starting." 
 Henry hardly knew what to say under the 
 circumstances, though he admired the frank- 
 ness with which the explanation was given, 
 especially as he knew that Lord Neversham 
 had been a really good man across country 
 once in his day. The result was he mumbled 
 some meaningless common - place, smiled as 
 though it was a good joke, and passed on, feel- 
 ing rather ashamed of himself than otherwise.
 
 Blair Athol. 231 
 
 This little incident had somewhat diverted 
 his attention for a while, when suddenly a 
 whimper from the cover (it was Seamer 
 Wood), rapidly developing into a burst 
 of music, recalled him to himself, and he 
 was all alert, as was the good little mare 
 Skittles. 
 
 An instant's glance showed him the hounds 
 bustling along straight through the wood 
 directly away from him, while Tom and the 
 rest of the field were scuttling round the wood 
 on the left. Jack Parker alone having taken 
 the right side, and thus being widely separated 
 from them. The hounds were hanaino^ to the 
 left, and it certainly appeared that Jack must 
 be out of it for once in a way ; but Henry 
 decided in a moment to follow him, and 
 chance it. 
 
 This he did at best pace, and presently 
 came up with him. Jack was fairly rolling 
 about in his saddle with chuckling and
 
 232 Blair Athol. 
 
 laughing, the hounds all the time seeming 
 to be clean away in an opposite direction. 
 
 Henry made some hasty enquiry as to 
 which way they should go. 
 
 " You coom wi' me," said Jack, " Ah'll put 
 ye right ; nean o' them other chaps 11 get 
 aboon half a mile." And thereat he chuckled 
 and laughed as before, evidently hugely 
 delighted at the impending discomfiture of the 
 field, who had thought their line better than 
 his. 
 
 There was nothing for it but blind con- 
 fidence, so Henry followed along a bridle-path 
 in a direction quite opposite to what seemed 
 the right one, until suddenly they came to 
 the railway, just where there w\as a level 
 crossing. 
 
 " See that ? " said Jack, pointing out the 
 line extending far into the distance, and taking 
 the form of an embankment all the way wdth 
 high stiff rails at the bottom on either side.
 
 Blair Athol. 233 
 
 "Them chaps '11 have to loup yon railroad, 
 Ah reckon, or else coom back here." 
 
 Henry of course saw the whole thing now, 
 and pushed on after Jack over the crossing, 
 never, however, thinking that they had not 
 gone far out of their way, no matter how 
 necessarily, and expecting they would now 
 probably have a long and fruitless ride of 
 discovery in search of the hounds. 
 
 . Jack, however, set his horse going at best 
 pace along the road which turned up from the 
 crossing, and Henry followed at a judicious 
 interval to keep clear of the stones that the 
 great chestnut sent whizzing back. 
 
 They had not gone three quarters of a mile 
 when Jack pulled up, and to Henry's amaze- 
 ment, admiration, and delight, beckoned him 
 on with one hand while he pointed forward 
 with the other, and yelled in boisterous joy, 
 " Yonder they gan!' Yes, sure enough there 
 they were even now about to cross the road
 
 234 Blair Athol. 
 
 some three hundred yards in advance, running 
 at best pace and all by themselves. 
 
 It then became apparent how valuable was 
 the knowledge of the country old Jack pos- 
 sessed, which enabled him to nick in with the 
 pack in this excellent manner, and Henry felt 
 overjoyed at his own luck in having chosen the 
 better part, and avoided the line by which 
 all the rest had gone and become evidently 
 pounded. 
 
 " Hoick forrard, forrard there," roared Jack. 
 " Coom on, lad, coom on ; stick to me, and Ahll 
 show ye what sport means," and away he went, 
 ramming his old horse across the ridge and 
 furrow, having left the road by a friendly 
 gate. The hounds were racing along a field 
 ahead at a pace which would have been good 
 for any country, and though it could hardly 
 be said a sheet would have covered them, still 
 they were very well together, all things con- 
 sidered.
 
 Blair Athol. 235 
 
 Henry settled himself down to follow his 
 leader, judging this to be his best cause after 
 the experience he had had of those who 
 went their own way and suffered accordingly. 
 Skittles was a sweet little mare and a fast one 
 too, so that there was no difficulty on that 
 score in keeping within easy distance of Jack ; 
 the only question was, what wild feats it might 
 be necessary to perform on the route. Even 
 now Henry saw him sit down, and drive his 
 horse at best pace at a lowish stake and bound 
 fence in a way that showed he evidently 
 apprehended mischief on the other side. The 
 big chestnut made a mighty effort, and floun- 
 dered about with his hind legs a good deal on 
 landing before getting away. Jack actually 
 deigned to look round, and sang out cheerily, 
 '^Ifs nowt ; send her at it." Nor did he 
 cease to watch till Henry and Skittles were 
 safely over the obstacle, as big and ugly a look- 
 ing " stell " as can be found in a day's march.
 
 236 Blair Athol. 
 
 There was no time, however, to think of 
 such matters. The pace was, if anything, 
 improving, and the hounds began to show 
 a very considerable tail. Henry and Jack 
 pounded on after them, the country being 
 rare going and the fences very negotiable. 
 
 " Forrard on there, ye slinking devils," 
 shouted Jack, cutting at the laggards of the 
 pack, whom they had now caught up. '' My 
 eyes, sir, but this 11 show you what's what." 
 
 Henry was thoroughly enjoying himself. 
 To any one who has only hunted among 
 hundreds of his fellows, the sensation of being 
 " away " with one companion only is very 
 novel, and I venture to think the man who 
 has experienced it will for ever look back to 
 it as a red-letter day in his annals of sport. 
 
 But Jack's chestnut was not absolutely 
 infallible, and he blundered over some stiff 
 rails that came in the way — rolling over and 
 over, and crumpling up his rider in most
 
 Blair Athol. ^ 237 
 
 formidable fashion. Henry pulled up in some 
 apprehension. 
 
 " Gan on, lad, gan on wi' ye," roared Jack, 
 shaking himself free of his horse. " Never 
 mind me; stick to 'em, Afts all reef,'' and so he 
 was, though it would have taken many men 
 weeks to get over such a fall. 
 
 Thus they slipped along for a good twenty 
 minutes, to a small larch plantation which 
 extended over an opposing hill or bank. Here 
 there was a not unacceptable delay as the 
 hounds went bustling among the under- 
 growth up the ascent, followed by Jack and 
 Henry, the latter finding vast difficulty in 
 keeping his head clear of the trees ; but this 
 difficulty was enormously increased when, 
 having reached the top, the " wild huntsman " 
 urged his career in most break-neck fashion 
 down the 'other side, where the trees grew very 
 thick and the descent was very steep. But, 
 despite the hounds driving him hard and close,
 
 238 Blair Athol. 
 
 the fox had had too much of the open to take 
 to it again in a hurry, and it was soon manifest 
 he was '^back," by some cunning wile or other. 
 Up the hill again perforce they went, Jack 
 calling out to Henry to put the hounds to 
 him, and when that gay youth could but ill 
 effect such an exploit, being almost wholly 
 occupied in keeping clear of the trees, he 
 heard the uncomplimentary remark muttered 
 in front, " Eot him, he's ne mair use than a 
 lass i' frocks." So then they clattered back- 
 wards and forwards in this bit of cover, and 
 wasted time, and lost temper. 
 
 Jack's horse once more coming to grief, and 
 this time rolling right on to him and lying 
 there, while he, so far from being concerned in 
 the matter, continued calling to his hounds, 
 " Yut in there, Ravager," &c., &c., as if nothing 
 had happened, Henry managed to get the 
 old horse pulled up, and Jack, after shaking 
 himself, calmly remounted.
 
 Blair Athol. 239 
 
 Just then many of the field, having at 
 length found out the way, came up with much 
 noise and clattering, inclined of course to 
 underrate the whole performance. However, 
 as if he had but waited for them, the fox took 
 upon himself to slip away again. A loud 
 *' Tally-ho " from an enthusiastic yokel pro- 
 claimed his departure, and his now augmented 
 pursuers settled themselves to the chase. 
 
 Henry saw a gate handy on to the road 
 close by, which led direct for the point where 
 the hounds were making towards, and he 
 hurried through it, closely followed by Lord 
 Neversham, and preceded by a trowsered man 
 on a white horse, who made frantic endeavours 
 to stimulate the somewhat obese animal to 
 excessive speed. 
 
 Suddenly, while they were thus rattling 
 along, the white horse, for some mysterious 
 reason, took upon itself to fall headlong to 
 the earth, hurling its unhappy rider violently
 
 240 Blair Athol. 
 
 upon the hard macadamized road, and nearly 
 upsetting Lord Neversham, who was following 
 close in its wake. Henry and his lordship 
 pulled up, while the trowsered one slowly 
 arose, rubbing his knees, clasping his elbows, 
 and evidently in dire pain. Henry was about 
 to anxiously enquire whether he was hurt, 
 when Lord Neversham, who had been seriously 
 alarmed by the danger that had threatened 
 him, broke out, " D — n you, man ! you did 
 that on purpose ! You did it on purpose to 
 throw me down. / know your ways. Go 
 
 home at once, and be d d to you. Take 
 
 your beastly horse away, and if ever you dare 
 to throw him down before me again in that 
 way, I'll have you committed for trial ; I will, 
 so help me God ! " 
 
 The poor man was too bewildered to say 
 anything, and with a withering glance of rage 
 Lord Neversham cantered on. 
 
 Henry too made the best of his way
 
 Blair Athol. 241 
 
 forward, on seeing the man was not materially 
 injured, not a little amazed at the idea of any- 
 one being supposed capable of selecting such a 
 very unselfish way to injure his lordship. 
 
 The hounds were making straight for Gilling 
 Wood, and scarcely getting way enough on to 
 stop the bold Reynard before he reached that 
 point of security. Still, it was evidently 
 going to be a near touch. And when at last 
 they actually ran through the village, with all 
 the inhabitants yelling out, "He's only just 
 afore you ; gan on, Jack, and you'll sartainlie 
 kill him," the excitement became very intense. 
 
 " This way," cries the village butcher, lead- 
 ing them on through a fold-yard into a long 
 pasture -field some three-quarters of a mile 
 from the wood. " Shove 'em on. Jack ; he's 
 dead beat. Yonder he is," pointing to the fox 
 dragging wearily along just a field ahead. 
 
 Out comes Jack's horn, and the hounds fly 
 to him as he takes his horse short by the head 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 Blair Athol. 
 
 and crams him forward at his best remaining 
 speed down the long pasture. The rest follow; 
 but lo ! Jack pulls up short 
 
 " What's the matter ? " cry several voices. 
 
 " Dang me, if thit arn't ower much of a 
 good thing," says he ; and indeed it appears 
 so, for they are fronted by an absolutely im- 
 pervious bullfinch, one solitary gap in which 
 is fenced to the height of six feet by the most 
 solid-looking rails. 
 
 " Oh ! we'll never stop now," cries Lord 
 Tillersley, and without a moment's hesitation 
 he rides at the formidable rails. 
 
 " Stop him, stop him ! he'll be killed ! " yells 
 his agonized parent. "Will nobody stop him? 
 Damn those men of mine ; where are they ? " 
 But of course nobody interposes, and the 
 youngster's horse clears the rails without 
 touching them. 
 
 Henry knows his mare is a wonder at 
 timber, so he must needs have it too, and just
 
 Blair Athol. 243 
 
 lands after hitting it somewhat heavily 
 behind. He looks back, and sees, with perhaps 
 a justifiable feeling of triumph, that Jack 
 Parker has dismounted and is pulling down 
 the top rail. This is enough. Forward is the 
 word ; and as he enters the very last field 
 before the Gilling Wood, together with Lord 
 Tillersley, the hounds are just running into 
 their fox, who dies with the haven of refuge 
 before his eyes. The rest very soon come 
 up, and the day is now at an end. 
 
 " Perhaps not a wonderful run, but a rare 
 enjoyable one," thinks Henry, as he jogs 
 homeward. " I wonder where on earth Tom 
 is ; I've never seen him since the hounds first 
 went away." 
 
 R 2
 
 244 Blair Athol. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " The whiles they spake they heard a ruefull shrieke 
 Of one loud crying, w^hich they streightway ghest 
 That it was she the which for help did shrieke, 
 Tho, looking up unto the cry to lest, 
 They saw that carle from far with hand unblest 
 Hay ling the maiden by the yellow heare, 
 That all her garments from her snowy brest, 
 And from her head her lockes he nigh did teare, 
 Ne would he spare for pitty nor refraine for feare." 
 
 Fairy Queen, vi. i. xvii. 
 
 Now as to Tom, after becoming hopelessly 
 pounded by the railway, in common with the 
 rest of field, he was not content like them to 
 gallop off to the crossing, but must needs find 
 out a way of his own, which resulted in his 
 losing himself altogether, and wandering aim- 
 lessly for some long time about the country. 
 At last he came to a river, which a man
 
 Blair Athol. 245 
 
 ploughing told him was fordable at a certain 
 place, and after crossing it he would be able to 
 get on to the high road ; so off he went to 
 the prescribed place, and found the banks 
 steep on both sides, with deep mud at the 
 bottom, the water somewhat higher than 
 usual, owing to recent rains, and altogether the 
 appearance of the ford, if ford it was, far from 
 inviting. Still it had to be done, and so with 
 some difficulty he induced his horse, a hard, 
 old-fashioned customer, to creep or slip down 
 into the water. The river was not at all wide, 
 but it was deeper than pleasant, and the 
 current running like a mill-race, the bottom 
 covered with sundry great boulders over which 
 the horse blundered and stumbled in a way 
 that threatened a probable immersion to his 
 rider. Nearing the other side, the water 
 deepened so as to just take the horse off his 
 legs in the last few yards ; but the land was 
 safely reached, and it remained but to climb the
 
 246 Blair Athol. 
 
 opposing bank. Tliis the horse made a gallant 
 attempt to do, but sank up to his hocks 
 in the mud through the effort, and conse- 
 quently came right back over on Tom into the 
 water, and was instantly carried away down 
 stream. 
 
 The girths had fortunately broken with the 
 strain, and Tom, who had his feet in the 
 stirrups, floated clear almost directly, together 
 with the saddle. He had fallen quite soft, 
 thanks to the depth of the water, and after 
 escaping a kick on the head almost by a 
 miracle, found himself bound to make shift to 
 swim, with the saddle attached to one leg, as 
 by some mysterious means he had got his foot 
 right through the stirrup. 
 
 Now Tom could swim, that is to say, he 
 could manage to do a few hundred yards 
 without his clothes ; but to have hunting-boots 
 on, and a saddle as well, was a complication he 
 certainly had never anticipated when educating
 
 Blair Athol. 247 
 
 himself in the art of escaping drowning. And 
 now he felt himself in a very serious predica- 
 ment, as he was borne swiftly along by the 
 current, every movement he tried to make 
 with his legs seeming, if anything, to pull him 
 down. 
 
 But Tom was a cool hand enough, and never 
 lost his presence of mind ; so he concluded 
 that if he could keep himself afloat by mere 
 paddling with his hands he was bound to come 
 on shore sooner or later, and he betook himself 
 therefore to that method of salvation. It must 
 be remembered that Tom was but a completely 
 elementary swimmer, and what seems easy 
 to the initiated was a work of huge difficulty 
 to him. Still he was managing all right, and 
 was thankful to find the current rapidly taking 
 him to the shore whereon he wished to be, 
 when, lo ! there was a sudden check and pull 
 at his leg. The rushing stream came bubbling 
 over him as he sunk a short way beneath it,
 
 248 Blaik Athol. 
 
 his foot held fast by the accursed stirrup- 
 iron. 
 
 It was obvious what had happened, and it 
 flashed across him in a moment — the other 
 stirrup had caught in something, and he was a 
 prisoner. In still water it would not have 
 been so hopeless, but as it was, the awful 
 power of the stream kept him at full tension 
 away from his fetter, and impatient of his body 
 thus lying as an obstacle in its way, caused 
 the water to surge up over him, at times 
 immersing him altogether ; indeed, it was 
 only by the most extreme efforts he could 
 keep his head occasionally above water. 
 
 I have said Tom had plenty of presence of 
 mind, but surely this was an occasion in which 
 any one might be pardoned for giving up hope. 
 For a moment he was inclined absolutely to 
 struggle in the wild and useless fashion of a 
 drowning man ; but it was only a moment. 
 Quick as thought he pulled himself together.
 
 Blair Athol. 249 
 
 his wits rising to the occasion, and felt for his 
 knife, regardless of the water burying him in 
 its remorseless flow. Alas ! for once in a way 
 he had left his knife at home. An old useless 
 knife it was, to all intents and purposes ; he 
 had carried it from mere habit for more than a 
 year after it had become disreputable and 
 fractured, and now just when he wanted it he 
 had left it at home ! 
 
 There was but one more chance : raising his 
 head with a great effort above the water — for 
 he was rapidly becoming exhausted now — he 
 took a long breath, and then deliberately curled 
 up so as to get hold of his foot ; from thence 
 seizing the stirrup - leather, and reaching 
 further on to the saddle, (all this of course 
 under water, and he had never even dived in 
 his life ! ) with the energy of despair bear- 
 ing up against the volume of surging flood, 
 he pulled the stirrup-leather away from the 
 saddle, — fortunately it was not very stiff, — and
 
 250 Blair Athol. 
 
 in an instant was free and on the siirface. The 
 current now doing him a good turn whirled 
 him swiftly into shallow water ; but had he not 
 come upon a friendly tree-trunk jutting into 
 the stream, which afforded him a support, it is 
 questionable whether he would not have been 
 drowned after all from sheer exhaustion. 
 However, he lay across this tree - trunk in 
 safety — he never knew how long ; but when 
 he recovered himself the evening w^as drawing 
 on, and he staggered in bewilderment up the 
 bank, for once in his life sincerely thanking 
 God for his preservation. 
 
 Looking around, what should he see but old 
 Caesar, his horse, quietly attempting to graze in 
 the next field ; and that was one satisfactory 
 point, at all events. Caesar was easily caught, 
 but being without a saddle Tom was too weak 
 to mount him until he had led him to a gate. 
 Having succeeded in getting up, he made for 
 the road, which was a short distance in front,
 
 Blair Athol. 251 
 
 but very soon began to feel that he had had too 
 much taken out of him to enable him to exert 
 himself any more ; and fear lest he should roll 
 off the horse, or do some other foolish thing, 
 constrained him to pull up at a neat little 
 house standing all by itself, and slip down on 
 the ground while he was yet able. A face came 
 to one of the windows — it was that of a female, 
 long-visaged and somewhat undershot — appar- 
 ently about fifty years old, but evidently assum- 
 ing a much greater degree of juvenility. It 
 was not a wholly unpleasant face, though ugly 
 and of consequential expression. Tom feebly 
 beckoned, and tried to take off his hat. The 
 face looked mystified, but finally smiled, left 
 the window, and came to the door, which 
 being opened, disclosed the owner of the face 
 as being a tall and somewhat gaunt lady 
 decked out in most youthful garb. To her 
 Tom told in a few words what had befallen 
 him, mentioned his name, and asked her to
 
 252 Blair Athol. 
 
 put him up for a while, as he was dead beat, 
 and couldn't get any further. 
 
 " Blackburn ! " ruminated the lady. " Are 
 you the Blackburn Mary JoUiffe knows ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 *' Oh ! then T should know you well. My 
 name's AVhytehead ; you'll have heard of me 
 no doubt ; but come in, come in. Mary, get 
 the brandy, and take the gentleman's horse 
 round to the cow-house. Stay, I'll get the 
 brandy myself ; it's very good, I'm told. There, 
 drink that — that'll evaporate you." 
 
 All this was said very rapidly, with a thick, 
 spluttering sort of utterance, the dialect being 
 much inclined to Yorkshire, and the last 
 sentence savouring so much of Mrs. Malaprop 
 as to actually draw forth a smile from Tom, 
 on whom the brandy produced a marvellous 
 effect. 
 
 He knew Miss Whytehead well, however, 
 by reputation, and was well aware of what he
 
 Blair Athol. 253 
 
 had to expect. But what of his horse ? He 
 was sufficiently invigorated now to think of 
 that, and he asked Miss Whytehead if she 
 would excuse his going to look after the old 
 beast. 
 
 *'0h, the girl will tie him up all safely," 
 said she ; " you needn't be afraid." 
 
 But Tom opined the faithful quadruped 
 would want something more than tying up, 
 and asked if she could give him a feed of corn. 
 Miss Whytehead was sorry to say they had no 
 such thing anywhere about. Was there a rug 
 he could put over the horse ? No, she hadn't 
 such a thing ; but on seeing Tom's distressed 
 expression, she added, " You can take one of 
 the old counterpanes if you like, and there's 
 some hay we have for the cow." 
 
 This sounded better, so Tom asked if he 
 could have a little oatmeal and a pint of beer. 
 This was forthcoming, and taking matters into 
 his own hands, he proceeded to boil water and
 
 254 Blair Athol. 
 
 make gruel, pouring the beer into it, Miss 
 Whytehead the while discoursing volubly. 
 
 ** I'm sure, now, to see you in these clothes, 
 fussing about your horse, reminds me of my 
 poor old father — such a man he used to be 
 for horses and hunting ! You'll have heard of 
 him no doubt ; everybody has. The Whyte- 
 heads have always been well known since the 
 Conquest, and now you see my brother 
 occupies the old place. I do like good breed- 
 ing ; there is nothing like it, my father 
 always said, in either horse or man. Your 
 father, I believe, is a grandson of Lord Falk- 
 land, is that not so ? Well, I like you all 
 the better for it. I don't care how poor I am, 
 1 always feel better than the people round 
 about here." And so on, harping on the one 
 topic of the excellent breeding of the Whyte- 
 heads, till Tom had his gruel ready for the 
 horse, and went out with it. 
 
 "I'm sure," said Tom afterwards, " there is
 
 Blaik Athol. 255 
 
 mucli need for her to drive this point into 
 one's head ; for no one would imagine her a 
 well-bred one, to judge by her looks and the 
 way she talks. Still, it must be true with 
 human beings as well as horses, that they ' run 
 in all shapes.' " 
 
 Old Csesar seemed very pleased with the 
 gruel, and disposed to make the best of his 
 present quarters. They were not palatial, 
 truly, but at least they were wind and weather 
 proof, though withal most cowsome and un- 
 clean underfoot. That could not be helped, 
 however. Tom got a wisp of clean hay, and 
 rubbed the horse down as best he could. The 
 girl brought the counterpane, which they 
 adjusted with sundry pieces of tape, and one 
 long piece of tape tied right round the horse 
 in lieu of a roller. 
 
 Hay was found and plentifully administered, 
 Tom usiug some also to bed the horse down 
 and make him comfortable ; and then with the
 
 256 Blair Athol. 
 
 girl he returned to the house and sat down, 
 dead-beat with his exertions, insomuch that 
 Miss Whytehead, who had been sprucing 
 herself up still more than heretofore, declared 
 he must not think of going home that night : 
 they would make him up a bed in the little 
 sitting-room. She would take no denial, and 
 Tom, who knew perfectly well that unless he 
 greatly improved he could not possibly ride, 
 consented with very little hesitation. 
 
 Now it must be known, that Miss Whyte- 
 head had by no means given up her hopes of 
 matrimony. She was reported to have been 
 once engaged, but to have suffered bitter 
 disappointment — the lover not turning up on 
 the appointed day. Some who told the tale 
 developed it into a romance, to the effect that, 
 on the evening before she was to become his 
 wife, she saw his face looking at her from out 
 of the water in a. half- filled jug, and that at 
 that very time the youth met his end by
 
 Blair Athol. 257 
 
 falling into the flooded river Swale and being 
 drowned. 
 
 Others, however, declared, that in reality no 
 such thing happened, but that the faithless 
 swain was still alive, and married to another. 
 
 After all, what did it matter ? In either 
 case there was cause for satisfaction : in the 
 one, deep, cherished sentiments of the tragic 
 past served to demonstrate to Miss Whytehead 
 how different she was from the common prosaic 
 herd, and to make her feel that she too had 
 been subject to that Divine commingling of 
 souls which is reserved only for the high- 
 born of the earth ; in the other, Avell, surely 
 there was some reason to rejoice if the man 
 had never been drowned at all. Whether, 
 however, Miss Whytehead would have rejoiced 
 had his survival been clearly shown to her 
 this deponent sayeth not. 
 
 But the gist of all this is, that Miss Whyte- 
 head, condemned by the death of her father 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 Blair Athol. 
 
 and the marriage of her sisters to a solitary 
 life, felt a yearning for a sympathetic soul, or 
 indeed a soul of any sort, if its owner was a 
 man, well-favoured, young, and possessed of 
 money. Such a one she now thought fate 
 had cast in her way, and she determined to 
 make Tom her own. Little did he think of 
 the honour thus destined for him, being more 
 intent on certain savoury odours wafted from 
 the kitchen, which portended that he was to be 
 fed anon. Miss Whytehead had seen a good 
 deal of mankind, from the old hard-headed sort 
 like her father to the more modern and fragile 
 youths, who, as she said, had to take Enoch's 
 Fruit Salt in the mornings to remove the 
 effects of any attempt at a drink the night 
 before. But old or young, she well knew that 
 man, until he has been fed, is at best a morose 
 and unimpressionable animal, so that her 
 whole desire now was to appease Tom's 
 appetite for food in the hopes of stealing her
 
 Blair Athol. 259 
 
 way to his heart afterwards. The somewhat 
 scanty resources of the larder were sorely 
 tried ; but there was a brace of partridges 
 her brother had sent her, and there was some 
 ham and a few eggs, and there was beer. 
 
 These were soon placed before the hunger- 
 ing Tom, to whom they appeared more de- 
 licious than the most sumptuous meal could 
 have done on ordinary occasions. 
 
 He sat him down and fell to with a will, 
 Miss Whytehead modestly declining to assist 
 him, but busying herself in attending to his 
 wants, until, as he began to feel comfortable 
 and refreshed, he thought, " Really, this is a 
 very good sort of old dame ; I've certainly lit 
 on my legs coming here." 
 
 Having consumed much ham and eggs, 
 together with the best part of the brace of 
 partridges, and having imbibed about a quart 
 of the beer, which was really very good — 
 *' Strange to say," thought Tom, '' when there 
 
 S 2
 
 260 Blair Athol. 
 
 are only women in the house 1 " — his tongue 
 became loosed, and yielding to his hostess's 
 solicitations, he drew his chair to the fire, while 
 she produced sundry black bottles from a 
 cupboard, — the slave brought glasses, lemons, 
 and the kettle, — and Miss Whytehead besought 
 Tom to let her mix for him a drink such as 
 her father loved. 
 
 Tom thought at first he would have 
 preferred just then a cup of coffee, or at any 
 rate tea ; but taking into consideration his 
 still wet condition, and the late hour, — nearly 
 eleven o'clock, — he concluded it would be just 
 as well to go in for something " hot within," 
 and accepted the oifer, thinking the while that 
 Miss Whytehead was a gayish sort of damsel 
 to have all these paraphernalia of drink ready 
 at hand. 
 
 " Now," said she, " if you'll watch me you'll 
 learn a recipe which I've never taught any one 
 else before. My father taught me how to
 
 Blair Athol. 261 
 
 make it when he broke his arm hunting, and 
 could not do it for himself until the bones had 
 ignited a.gain." 
 
 *' Indeed!" said Tom. ^^ Well, I feel 
 greatly honoured by your divulging it to 
 me. 
 
 *' You do, do you ? Ah ! but you see you're 
 such a good-looking boy, I would tell you 
 anything." 
 
 This rather startled Tom, but, on the whole, 
 pleased him. All men are ridiculously vain, 
 and prone to take in perfect good faith a 
 compliment to their personal appearance ; and 
 then Tom was at that age when he rather 
 liked to be called a boy, so that he answered, 
 " I am quite sure. Miss Whytehead, you must 
 have had many much better looking than I 
 am who would have given anything to hear 
 you speak to them in that way." 
 
 " Not I," incautiously broke in the lady; ''at 
 least, I mean they were all horrid, ugly men,
 
 262 Blair Athol. 
 
 and I couldn't bear them ; so I've waited for 
 some one better." 
 
 Tom now thought it time to change the 
 subject to the drink, and watched anxiously 
 the famous brew. 
 
 Miss Whitehead was already fussing about 
 with the materials, and as the drink really 
 was good it may be well to give it in extenso. 
 First she stuck a lemon over with cloves 
 and hung it by a string before the fire, asking 
 Tom to keep turning it. This he did, getting 
 his eyes and face — already sore with exposure 
 — well scorched in the process. Then did 
 Miss Whytehead take a bowl, and having 
 placed therein eight lumps of sugar, a table- 
 spoonful of syrup of ginger, a similar quantity 
 of apple-jelly, and a wine-glass of brandy, she 
 paused for a while to see how the lemon was 
 progressing. It was beginning to crackle and 
 spit, and had already shot a clove in Tom's 
 face with great violence, followed by a jet of
 
 Blair Athol. 263 
 
 scalding juice. Miss Whytehead, however, 
 declared it was not nearly ready yet, and went 
 on to pour one tumbler-glass of rum and one 
 of Irish whiskey into the bowl, stirririg it up 
 with thoughtful countenance, and ever and 
 anon looking at Tom in a way that made him 
 feel uncomfortable, he didn't quite know why. 
 He could not help noticing the while the 
 strange angularity of her figure as she stood 
 beside him, and he wondered to himself why 
 a beneficent providence ever could be so 
 careless as to turn woman out in such shapes 
 — so utterly unfinished and rough in workman- 
 ship, as it were. 
 
 Next he thought what on earth must her 
 drinking capacity be, or what must she deem 
 him capable of, that she was mixing such a 
 large '^ jorum " ; but the lemon now claimed all 
 his attention, it was rapidly getting brown, 
 and exhaling the most orlorious aroma. 
 
 " It will be ready directly," cried the hostess,
 
 264 Blair Athol. 
 
 in a state of great excitement. She had now 
 placed the bowl down by the fire, and the 
 kettle was boiling lustily. " There," said she, 
 " that will do ; put it in the bowl," and Tom 
 with some difficulty tumbled the lemon in, 
 Awhile she took up the kettle and appeared to 
 pour indiscriminately, but it seemed after- 
 wards she had a well-known mark in the 
 bowl, by which she knew when she had got 
 exactly as much water as spirit. " Now, my 
 boy," she exclaimed, in strange glee, " we let it 
 stand here and stir it gently for ten minutes 
 before the fire, and then you shall say what 
 you think of it." 
 
 This time having elapsed, the ladle was 
 called into requisition, and the two sat down 
 on either side of the fire, with their glasses 
 on small brackets specially placed for such a 
 purpose. The punch was first-rate. Tom was 
 now nearly dry, and beginning to feel decidedly 
 happy. He praised the drink immensely, and
 
 Blair Athol. * 265 
 
 swore Miss Whytehead was the cleverest lady 
 he had ever met, and he only wished there 
 were more like her. One thing he should like 
 to know — what was the theory which in- 
 duced her to put syrup of ginger into the 
 brew ? 
 
 " Oh ! " said she, " that's the great point of 
 all. The syrup of ginger does away with all 
 chance of a headache after it ; it's a wonderful 
 thing ; I know its effect perfectly by practising 
 on my poor father." 
 
 " Well," cried Tom, " you are an amazing 
 individual ; it's like conjuring to be able to 
 drink such grand stuff as this without fear 
 of next morning. Do you know, I'm awfully 
 glad I came here." 
 
 " Are you really now ? But only think 
 what you have had to go through before you 
 did come." 
 
 "Don't care," said Tom; "this is worth it 
 all.'*
 
 266 Blair Athol. 
 
 Miss Whytehead coughed, half blushed, and 
 simperingly asked, " What do you mean ? " 
 
 "Why, \)i\^ drink!'' 
 
 Here was an anti-climax, since she quite 
 thought Tom had wound himself up to a 
 declaration of love. For a moment disappoint- 
 ment and disgust silenced the lady; then on 
 second thoughts she reflected, " If he is so 
 pleased with the drink, it should not be difficult 
 for him to be pleased with the maker of it." 
 
 Then she entertained him with a long 
 discourse on people in general, and her own 
 family in particular, the point being as usual 
 that no one was bred right who did not inherit 
 the blood of the Whyteheads ; condescended, 
 however, to say that she liked Mary Jolliff'e. 
 She was one of the few people she did like, for 
 her pride always forbade her to associate with 
 the general run of persons who wished for her 
 acquaintance. Her brother Mark, too, he was 
 equally proud ; by-the-bye, he was at Kirby
 
 Blair Athol. 267 
 
 hunt ball that very night ; she would have 
 been there, but couldn't get a dress in time. 
 
 Tom, meanwhile, had replenished his glass, 
 and was thoroughly complacent. Presently 
 he broke in, "I only wish I always had some 
 one to make punch like this for me." 
 
 " You'd better engage me," said she, with a 
 feeble titter. 
 
 Tom, who was far too much wrapt up in his 
 own enjoyment to give the slightest attention 
 now to the turn the conversation was taking, 
 went on without the smallest serious meaning: 
 " All right, that's a bargain ; you shall be my 
 Hebe, my cup-bearer, punch-brewer, or what 
 you will ; I shall take you with me through 
 the world." 
 
 *' Oh, but that wouldn't be proper." 
 
 *'Then of course I must marry you ; do you 
 agree to that ? " laughed he, merely, as he 
 thought, filling up the time pleasantly with a 
 little inane fooling.
 
 2G8 Blair Athol. 
 
 Judge then his surprise when she calmly 
 said, after a moment's pause, " Mr. Blackburn, 
 I do agree. It would be idle for me to deny that 
 with me, as with you, this is a case of love 
 at first sight," and rising up, she flung herself 
 upon him, and hung hysterically to his neck. 
 
 Tom glanced hurriedly around. There was 
 that confounded girl standing at the door. 
 How long had she been there ? He grasped 
 the difficulty of his position at once, and was 
 fairly overcome by it. 
 
 " Good God ! " he cried, " isn't it time we 
 were going to bed ? " 
 
 '' I see," she answered, " the excitement 
 and the hard day have been too much for you. 
 Come, dear, come, I will show you to your 
 room," and Tom mechanically followed to the 
 apartment, where a shakedown had been pre- 
 pared for him, felt her kiss him, and actually 
 was not certain whether he did not kiss her. 
 She closed the door and was gone.
 
 Blair Athol. 269 
 
 Tom stood some while in a bewildered 
 condition, then muttered to himself, " Well, 
 this is beyond everything ; I'll sleep on it 
 anyhow," and tired out, he betook him to rest, 
 donning a beautifully frilled night-gown that 
 was placed ready, and wondering what his 
 boots and breeches would be like in the morn- 
 ing. He was asleep almost directly, nor did 
 he dream. 
 
 How long he had been asleep he knew not, 
 but he was aroused by a series of awful shrieks 
 proceeding from up-stairs — so awful that he did 
 not pause to put on any additional garments, 
 but ran, just as he was, out of his room to that 
 from which the noise was proceeding. 
 
 Bursting in, he saw the figure of a man 
 attempting to stifle the shrieks of some one 
 in bed, no doubt Miss Whytehead ; while 
 another was just entering through the window, 
 in fact, his body was half in. Tom's ready 
 presence of mind told him that his plan was
 
 270 Blair Athol. 
 
 to go first at the man who was climbing in, 
 for if he once let him in he would have two 
 assailants together ; so in an instant he rushed 
 to the window, and gave the would-be burglar 
 one, two, fair from the shoulder into his ugly 
 countenance, and the man dropped back as if 
 shot. 
 
 Tom heard him fall with a great thud below, 
 and then turned to the other, who was coming 
 at him with something in his hand that looked 
 like a life-preserver. 
 
 But the man was, like most of his kind, an 
 utter cur when boldly tackled, and as Tom 
 rushed on him without a moment's hesitation, 
 the life-preserver fell from his grasp as he 
 made a feeble effort to use it. Tom closed 
 with him at once, overpow^ering him as easily 
 as he would a child, looked at the window, 
 with the intention of throwing him down from 
 it, but thought he w^ould not ; so carried him 
 out on to the landing, and partly kicked and
 
 Blair Athol. 271 
 
 partly threw him down-stairs ; then opened the 
 front door, turned the man towards him, gave 
 him one right-hander full in the face, which 
 knocked him backwards into the shrubs, by 
 way of a reminiscence, and walked up-stairs 
 again to see how Miss Whytehead was, 
 actually forgetting to shut the door behind him. 
 
 He w^ent straight into her room, never 
 thinking of his deshabille, for it was no time to 
 do so. She was there, but not fainting or in 
 hysterics, simply wildly excited and rushing 
 about the room, the gauntness of her form 
 terribly expressed by the scanty garb that 
 could hardly be said to make a pretence of 
 concealing it. 
 
 The first thing she said was : '* Oh, have 
 you locked the front door ? " 
 
 " No, by Jove ! I haven't," said Tom, and 
 was about to run down to do it wheu, quick 
 as thought. Miss Whytehead turned the key 
 in her own door, removed it, and said.
 
 272 Blair Athol. 
 
 ''No, no, dear Tom, you shall risk your life no 
 more for me. If they come back now we are 
 safe. I don't care what any one says, you shall 
 stay here till daylight ; self-preservation is the 
 first law of nature," and with that she would 
 have fallen fainting to the floor, but that Tom 
 caught her up, chiefly with a view to secure 
 the key ; but she had secreted it somewhere 
 about her, and he could hardly search 
 minutely. 
 
 She soon recovered and quietly went to bed, 
 offering Tom a rug to put over himself, which 
 he thankfully accepted, after vainly imploring 
 her to give him the key and let him out. 
 She declared he would be murdered if he left 
 the room, and so he was obliged to stay. 
 
 But the worst was to come. There was a 
 sound of a trap driving past. It stopped, and 
 somebody got out, walked into the house by 
 the open front door, and came presently up- 
 stairs.
 
 Blair Athol. 273 
 
 "Oh!" shrieked Miss Whytehead, "they 
 are coming again. They have been away for 
 help, and have brought the whole gang of 
 burghers down. Tom, dear, darling Tom, I 
 have at least this consolation — you are with 
 me." 
 
 " Hush," muttered Tom, hearing that the 
 steps had stopped outside the door ; and the 
 person, whoever he or she might be, knocked. 
 ^' Give me the key," said Tom in a whisper. 
 
 " Oh, no, my own dearest Tom. You shall 
 not open the door ; we shall be murdered." 
 
 "Susan," said a gruff voice outside, "open 
 the door. It's I — Mark, your brother." 
 
 The sudden reaction was too much for the 
 lady ; she screamed, threw down the key, 
 and Tom, without a moment's hesitation, 
 opened the door. 
 
 To them entered Mr. Mark Whytehead, 
 who was on his way driving back from the 
 Kirby Ball, and seeing the front door open had 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 Blair Athol. 
 
 stopped and come to investigate. He had 
 possessed himself of a candle, and surveyed 
 the couple in their sparse attire. 
 
 This time Tom's presence of mind deserted 
 him, and he only stared confusedly. 
 
 "Well, Susan," said Mark, "I little thought 
 you would do this, though I knew you were 
 bad enough. Below I find nothing but 
 bottles, glasses, and signs of drink; the very 
 front door left open, owing to the horrid 
 oblivious state you have been in ; but up- 
 stairs here, — ' dear, darling Tom,' indeed ! 
 Oh ! shameful, shameful ! D — n you, fellow, 
 who are you ? " 
 
 "Fellow yourself," replied Tom, who had 
 now reached a sullen state of sensibility. 
 " I've had plenty of you and your sister," and 
 brushing past the outraged relative he went 
 down-stairs, immediately proceeded to put on 
 his clothes, finding huge difficulty with the 
 boots ; and with the clamorous voices still
 
 Blair Athol. 275 
 
 holding forth up - stairs he left the house, 
 went to the cow-house, put the bridle on 
 Caesar, and getting on as best he could, rode 
 off, leaving the old counterpane to the tender 
 mercies of the cow, just as the sun was rising. 
 Caesar went very stiff at first, but soon was 
 all right, and Tom's spirits rose as he felt the 
 fresh air and freedom once more. Many- 
 ejaculations, however, did he mutter to him- 
 self, until he rode into Norton just in time to 
 have a bath and dress for breakfast on Christ- 
 mas Day. It may well be conjectured that his 
 night's adventures were not revealed in full to 
 those who asked where he had been and what 
 he had been doinsr. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.

 
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