Reuben Dean

Front matter

REUBEN DEAN Page 295. Frontispiece. BY WILLIAM LESLIE LOW EDINBURGH & LONDON OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER Price 8$. 6d. each. SPRAYS OF NORTHERN PINE. By FERGUS Mackenzie. JOHN ARMIGER'S RE VENGE. By P. Hay Hunter. A MOST PROVOKING GIRL. By Margaret Moyes Black. A FAIR NORWEGIAN. By Andrew Stewart. A HANDFUL OF SILVER. By L. T. Meade. With Illustrations. MARJORIE DUDINGSTOUNE. A Tale of Old St. Andrews. By William Francis Collier. MY DUCATS AND MY DAUGHTER. By P. Hay Hunter and Walter Whyte. CROWNED VICTOR. A Story of Strife. By Hannah B. Mackenzie. WILLIAM BLACKLOCK, JOURNALIST. A Story of Press Life. By T. Banks Maclachlan. EDINBURGH & LONDON OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER PRINTED BY MORRISON AND CIBB LIMITED, EDINBURGH TO THE WARRIORS OF OUR INDIAN FRONTIER THIS STORY WHICH CARRIES ITS HERO THROUGH A FRONTIER CAMPAIGN IS DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR CONTENTS CHAP. PAOE I. DRIFTING AND ITS DANGERS ... 9 II.

LESSONS FORGOTTEN ..... 21 III. THE WOODS OF ROWANDEN . . . .31 IV, RESPONSIBILITY AND DEVELOPMENT . . .37 V. THE RUSSIAN WAR IN INVERGARIE . . .46 VI. THE BATTLE OF THE BURGH MUIR . . .52 VII. DEVELOPMENTS ..... 62 VIII. THE DEVIL'S STONE ..... 78 IX. JANGLED MUSIC . . . . .94 X. THE PICNIC ON BENDENNACH . . . 107 XI. THE EASTBURGH ACADEMY . . . .122 XII. CONFLICT . . . . . .137 XIII. WARP AND WOOF ..... 151 XIV. THE FIELDS OF CAPUA .... 164 XV. A NEW MAN ...... 180 XVI. FOR PURITY AND HONOUR .... 197 XVII. LOVE . . . . . . .209 XVIII. OUT AND GUARD ..... 219 XIX. THE DIE IS CAST ..... 234 XX. PLIGHTED AND PARTED . . . .248 XXI. WARS, INCURSIONS, AND ALARMS . . . 263 XXII. BLOOD AND TREACHERY .... 276 XXIII. DARKNESS AND LIGHT ....

Chapter I Drifting And Its Dangers

"What is youth ?— A dancing billow, Winds behind, and rocks before." Wordsworth. " \ 7" HAT on the face o' this earth can hae V V come o' Reuben ? It's three strucken hours sin' he should hae been out o' the school, and I warned him this vera day to come straught hame." The impatient words were uttered by Jacob Dean, farmer in Rowanden, and emphasised by the force and energy of a countenance whose keen blue eye, aquiline nose, firm mouth, and strong, prominent chin would even in calmer mood have arrested attention. It was to his wife Janet that he spoke, as with mild and good-natured but now somewhat troubled face she moved about her household duties. The question suggested to her no new thought. Again and again had she stopped in her work to gaze anxiously down the valley in the bottom of which the river pursued south-eastwards its zigzag course.

Again and again her eye had searched the road where it wound along the slope above the river's left bank to where it disappeared round the shoulder of the hill of Ardshee, but without descrying any sign of her eldest son Reuben, or of his younger brother Charlie, who should be with him. When, therefore, their father, equally anxious but much less patient, expressed in no very mild tone his wonder what had become of Reuben, she was not surprised. Knowing her husband's nature, she saw the gathering storm, and sought to minimise its rising force. "I was beginning," she said, with ill -assumed composure, " to wonder that rnysel'. But he's maybe just been keepit in for something. Ye ken he can never keep out o' ony ploy that's goin'." "Just that, I'll warrant, Janet," said Jacob in sarcastic tone ; " say ye aye the best that ye can for that thoughtless son o' yours.

But I tell ye that if I canna knock out o' him this eternal followin' o' his scatter -wit ted inclinations, and learn him to follow duty instead, he'll ruin himsel' and disgrace you and me baith. Would ye be expeckin' me to believe that Charlie would hae been keepit in wi' him just for company ? " " No," said Janet, still acting the part of advocate for the defence ; " but Charlie might hae waited for him. And even if he has gane aff on ony ploy, he's but young. I'll warrant when ye were his age ye were in as mony ploys as him, only ye would be the ringleader, instead o' bein' led." " Oh, Janet, Janet, but ye're a wise ane ! Dinna ye see that that's just the vera mischief o't ? If he were a leader, the measure of his evil-doin' would only be the evil that's in himsel', and that might be nae waur than he's inherited frae you and me.

But when he's the kind that's led, the measure has nae end ; for it's just a' the evil that a' the deevils and a' the deevil's bairns that he fa's in wi' can put into him." " I declare, Jacob," said Janet half banteringly, " I never did see the like o' you for arguin'. I ken I needna attemp' to conter ye. But I ken, for a' that, that leadin's better than drivin' for gettin' him or ony ither body to gang right. Dinna forget that when he comes hame." " Comes hame ? " retorted Jacob, with an im patient gesture. " I've seen as muckle as some day he'll need to be carriet hame. And what's that I see comin' round the neuk o' Ardshee ? There's a horse, at ony rate." "It's maybe auld Drouthy and his wood-cart. It's about the time he comes hame." " Just that," said Jacob ; " and I do believe he has the pair o' prodigals aside him."

" Prodigals, Jacob ! " exclaimed their mother, catching at the word ; " that's weel said, and their father '11 ken the way to meet them." " Noo, Janet," said Jacob in a tone of remon strance, " when ye ken ye canna argue, ye shouldna try't. The prodigal had gotten his lesson, and learnt it, and Reuben hasna. But I tell ye he'll get it shortly." With that Jacob swiftly departed, every step instinct with impatience and energy. Janet looked after him with a sigh, hoping that he would find something to mollify him before the boys' arrival. She kept watching the cart till it turned down " the loan-ends " to Drouthyneuk, expecting that once arrived there they would race each other across the field, and over the burn, and up the brae home. They soon appeared round the corner of Drouthy's stable, but instead of racing home seemed to progress very slowly indeed.

Anxiously watching their movements, she observed that Charlie appeared to be leaning on Reuben and limping badly. At last she saw the latter mount his brother on his back, and stagger homewards under his weight. Seeing at once that something was wrong, and filled with many fears, she hastened out and down the brae to meet them. " What's wrang wi' Charlie, Reuben ? " she cried, as soon as she could make herself heard. " He fell and hurtit his leg, and it's a' swall't up that he canna put his foot to the ground." " Gie me him on my back up the brae," said his mother ; " and be quick. I doubt there'll be a court-martial about this. Noo, mind, whatever ye do, tell the truth." The movement of shifting forced from Charlie a cry of pain, while the sweat stood in beads on his brow. As she carried him towards the door, her husband came swiftly round the corner of the house, eager to pounce on his prey.

" Jacob," she cried, before he had time to speak, " would ye tak' Charlie off my back ? And be canny. There's been an accident, and I think he's just at the faintin'." Jacob, shooting an angry glance at Reuben, whom he suspected to be at the bottom of it, hastened to perform his wife's behest. But the boy, wincing and struggling to stifle a cry, fainted in his father's arms as he carried him towards his bed. The mother, though unaccustomed to see any thing of the kind, and greatly alarmed, nevertheless did not for a moment lose her presence of mind. The thought flashed through it that Reuben, tired and hungry as he must be, and well-nigh exhausted, would be safer out of the way for a while, hungry or not. " Would Reuben run back to Invergarie for the doctor ? " she quickly asked. " Reuben '11 tak his proper place on the Stool 0' Repentance," said Jacob sternly.

" Send the lassie to bid Sandy tak' the mare and ride for the doctor. Tell him to say it's an accident to Charlie's leg, but whether it's broken or no' we dinna ken." The household of Rowanden knew better than to require an order given by Jacob Dean to be repeated, and there was no delay. Charlie, carried by his father into the small bedroom, was laid on his bed, and gently undressed. Janet strove by sprinkling his pale face with cold water to bring back suspended consciousness, while Jacob watched and assisted as tenderly as a woman. Reuben sat meanwhile in gloom and silence on the "Stool of Repentance," which, made of plain, well-scoured deal, stood in the living-room as far from the fire as could conveniently be. He knew he need not hope for escape. Like the convict in the " condemned cell " awaiting execution, he felt him self in the grip of fate.

When Charlie's consciousness returned, and he had been made as comfortable as his condition allowed, Jacob broke silence. " Tell that prodigal to come here," he said sternly. It was unnecessary. " The prodigal " in the other room heard, and was moved as if by mechanical power. He quickly appeared, feeling the com pulsion of stern necessity in the form of his father, but conscious at the same time of an anxious desire to see his brother. In his eye the scene was instantaneously photo graphed, and could have been reproduced at any time during the rest of his life. Though stunned by the gravity of the situation, he was keenly alive to the satisfaction of seeing his brother safe in his own bed. But from such feeling he awoke with a start at the sound of his father's question, put with the sharp peremptoriness so well known to him.

" Where did this happen ? " Reuben, too much paralysed to think of ex tenuating circumstances, and scarcely daring to breathe, answered mechanically — " In the craw-wood at Hillbrae." Jacob sprang to his feet with menacing action, but immediately controlled himself and sat down again. " Tell the whole story," he commanded, " from the minute ye got out o' the school ; and look alive." " When we cam' out," gasped Reuben, " the Hillbrae boys said the young craws were just ready to flee, and we could easy get some. Charlie wasna willin' to gang, but I thought it wouldna tak' lang, and we gaed wi' them ; and Charlie was a good bit up a tree when the branch broke, and he fell down." " Ye good-for-naething that ye are ! " said Jacob vehemently. " What do ye think o' yoursel' ? What do ye think 0' your handiwork ?

" Reuben stood silent; but at the sight of his handiwork lying before him, tears gradually welled up in his eyes. Charlie's lip, too, began to quiver. " Father," he said, " it was John Gosse and the Hillbrae boys that gar't [made] Reuben gang, and I gaed wi' him." " Gar't him gang ! " exclaimed Jacob, with in describable contempt, at the same time rising threateningly to his feet, — " gar't him gang ! The deevil himsel' canna gar ye : he can only temp' ye. And mighty easy ye were to temp' when yon scatter witted numskulls could do't. Ye hae less sense than the tyke. He's nae ilka man's dog that whistles on him. Tell me this, Reuben : did I bid you this vera mornin' come straught hame frae the school ? " " Yes." " Did ye do't ? " " No." " Tell me this, the pair 0' ye : did I ever forbid ye to climb trees ?

" " Yes." " Have ye obeyed ? " " No." These answers were given in doleful accents, with crestfallen demeanour, and with tears beginning to well up in their eyes. Their mother, who had been anxiously watching the examination, here, in the hope of creating a diversion, inquired — " How far did auld Drouthy bring ye ? " " Frae Invergarie," answered Charlie. " I could hardly gang at a', but Reuben carriet me to Invergarie, and we saw Drouthy's cart at the inn door, and Reuben put me on it, and we waited till Drouthy cam' out. That's the way we were sae lang." " Didna Drouthy see that ye couldna gang when he took ye aff the cart ? " she asked. "Nae likely," interposed Jacob with contempt. " He wouldna be seein' vera clear, ye may be sure. Didna Hillie's boys think o' helpin' ye hame ? " No answer.

" Ay, just that," said Jacob. " Sic master, sic man. Just ye mind this : the deevil mak's himsel' fine agreeable company — aye ready to help ye up the ladder, but aye leavin' ye hangin' in the tow [rope] for anither warnin' to fools. That's the treatment ye'll get frae him and a' his instruments. And serves ye right. What kind o' a blockhead do ye think yoursel' — what kind o' an evil-doer — to be led by a parcel o' thoughtless idlers to brak twa distinct orders o' your father's, that ye're bound by a' the laws o' God and man to obey ? Just look what happens when ye leave the way 0' your duty. Look at Charlie." Here, in spite of his fear that even this sign of weakness might still further exasperate his father, Reuben could no longer restrain his tears. " If ye had done as I bade ye," continued Jacob, " wouldna't hae been a vera different thing noo ?

Dinna ye see that my orders is intendit nae to keep ye frae pleasure, but frae danger ? " " Be thankfu', man," said Janet, interposing soothingly, " that he wasna kill't." " Sae I am thankfu'," said Jacob, turning upon her in combative mood, " but it's nae them that I hae to thank." Then, turning again to Reuben, he said, " Noo, man, ye've confessed that ye've broken twa distinct orders, and led awa' your younger brither, that ye should hae been an example till, to do the same. He'll learn afore he gets up, I'm thinkin', that ' the companion of fools shall be destroyed.' And as for you, ye'll gang and bring the Stool 0' Repentance in here, and every day till Charlie's better, when ye come hame frae the school, ye'll sit half an hour on't and read the Proverbs o' Solomon till him. And after ye've learnt your lessons, ye'll baith hae to get by heart this verse out o' Ecclesiasticus and say't to me ilka day afore your breakfast, till I think ye've won a better character : ' If thou givest thy soul the desires that please her, she will make thee a laughing-stock to thine enemies.' " When the doctor arrived and examined the leg, he found it fractured some little way above the ankle.

Prepared by Jacob's message, he had brought the necessary appliances, and after duly attending to the injury, took his departure. Then came supper — on this occasion a very silent meal. Thereafter the evening was, like the day after the storm, unusually quiet and solemn ; Reuben's one clearly appreciated cause for thank fulness being that it was the evening of the weekly newspaper, which had to be passed on to another reader on the morrow, so that his father's attention was occupied otherwise than with him. Whether he realised or not the nature of his fault in going with John Gosse and " Hillie's " boys to the " craw-wood," he felt that it had certainly brought very severe punishment after it, and that the con sequences had come to stay for a considerable time. He could not help being stung by the thought that he was the guilty cause of the suffering now falling on his innocent, or comparatively innocent brother, who alone had lifted up his voice against the proposal.

As to what his father thought of him, he had been left in no manner of doubt. And when the hour of family prayer came, and newspaper and everything else had to give place to the " big ha'- Bible," he found his troubles still with him. He had the feeling that the whole passage read pointedly condemned him. The very prayers appeared to be somehow specially applicable to him. He thought, even, that his father, when he did not at once rise from his knees, was secretly praying for him, and could have foretold the words with which he would be dismissed for the night. He had heard them often enough to know them by heart, and expected to hear them again — an expectation which proved to be correct. As the rest of the household wended their several ways, and Reuben began to move too, his father took both his hands in his own, and drew him between his knees.

Earnestly he looked for some time in the young face, — as frank and guileless as could be met in a day's journey, — and as bright, though reflecting more the mildness of the mother's than the energetic strength of the father's. Then with trembling voice he said — "Reuben, my firstborn and my delight, Rook of my power, beginning of my might, Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel." The last line was spoken slowly and with mourn ful shaking of the head, and not without a suspicion of moisture in the clear blue eyes. " My son ! my son ! never trifle wi' duty — nae for a moment. Do it ! do it ! quick and strong, like a valiant man, and defy a' the fools in creation to lead ye aside. Be a leader o' good men, and nae a follower 0' fools. And I can promise ye we'll hae nae mair hame-comings like this."

He laid his hand on his son's head in silent blessing, and sent him to rest for the night. Poor Reuben departed with a lump in his throat and a pang in his heart. He loved his father, and dimly recognised that the sole object of his toil and thought from morning to night was the good of his children. That he should be a grief to such a father cut him to the heart. He was conscious also of earnest but vague desires to do better, which he was too young to organise into a definite plan of campaign. Would he ever develop grip enough to carry his desires into action ? Or would his goodness be like the early dew ?

Chapter II Lessons Forgotten

Our better mind Is like a Sunday garment." Crowe. IN spite of the storm through which he had passed, Reuben slept his usual sound and healthy sleep, and awoke in the morning correspond ingly refreshed. When he rose, he could not possibly be without remembrance of what had happened. The stillness of the house, like the stillness after a storm ; the serious looks of his father and mother ; and above all, the sight of Charlie, now through his fault im prisoned like a caged bird for an indefinite time in the delightful spring of the year, all combined to check his rising spirits. But, for all that, it was by a conscious effort that he subdued himself into harmony with the circumstances. When the household sat down to breakfast, and all were silent waiting for the grace, Jacob's voice broke the stillness in a tone so different from what was expected as to make some of the circle visibly start.

" Reuben, stand up and say your text." With the mechanical promptitude of a military parade Reuben rose and recited: " If thou givest thy soul the desires that please her, she will make thee a laughing-stock to thine enemies." It was a most uncomfortable text; decidedly condemnatory not only of his yesterday's escapade, but of his general character as pointedly depicted by his father. Yet he had to engrave it on his memory, and repeat it, like a grace before meat, at breakfast-time every day for he did not know how long. The warning it contained might be salutary, but was certainly not attractive. The learning of it was anything but pleasing to his soul, and the repeating of it a positive humiliation. It was like a heavy weight on his spirits, and he did not feel that weight off him till he was across the burn and past Drouthyneuk on his way to school.

Then his spirits rose with all the force of reaction. He listened to the lark singing in the sky, and searched the heaven till he saw her a speck against the cloud. He saw and watched the water-beetle enjoying his swim round the interesting nooks at the bottom of the wayside pool, and in imagination shared his delight. He observed for a while the uncertain and apparently laborious movements of the caddis-worm, rendered nearly helpless, like a mediæval knight, by the weight of his own armour. Then, suddenly recollecting him self, he ran towards school to make up for lost time. His fleetness of foot — he could outrun any one in the parish, boy or man — brought him there with some time for play with schoolfellows already arrived. Into the sports of the playground he entered with vigour, not to say vehemence, being by virtue of his physical endowments a leader in them all.

When from the joys of the playground the bell gathered the scholars into school, the quick eye of the teacher at once detected the vacant place of Charlie, and Reuben was summoned to give the reason of his absence. Bit by bit, and by slow degrees, an account of the expedition and its disastrous results was extorted, and the teacher's face became portentously severe. His demeanour, indeed, was changed for the whole day, and brought a chill, like a damp fog, down on the school. The boys concerned were made to feel that they had passed into the black shadow of disgrace. Indeed, they could not help seeing that the teacher regarded the good name of the whole school as having suffered eclipse. At the close of the school day, which had been peculiarly quiet and gloomy, he administered a severe lecture in presence of the whole school.

He denounced cruelty to birds — even to crows ; condemned the thoughtlessness and heartlessness of all who would be guilty of such ; and spoke most severely of the disobedience of which some had been guilty; of the meanness of eye-service, which would obey a parent when present, but the contrary when absent ; and after speaking thus in general terms, he turned to Reuben personally. He said, " You are a leader in manly sports ; you ought to be a leader also in what is right and noble and good. It is beyond all things shameful that you should follow your inferiors to the dis honour of your father's command, and the serious injury of your brother. From this hour you ought to recognise it to be your duty to oppose every wrong suggestion, whether coming from your own mind or from anyone else's, and so restore your good name, and make amends to the school, and to your father and brother."

Reuben felt for the time like one that has been beaten and bruised all over. He felt as if he had the brand of Cain on him. The little children in the school looked at him with awed and serious faces. His companions, who had really suggested the expedition, on the contrary, took it all with elaborate unconcern, as if to encourage the idea that the whole blame belonged to him. The situation was humiliating. And then on arriving at home, he had no sooner got food than he had to betake himself to the Stool of Repentance, and for a heavily dragging half-hour read to Charlie the Proverbs of Solomon. Altogether, there was little to encourage high spirits. But naturally the lecture at school was not repeated, and he became accustomed to the penal arrangements at home. By the end of a week the effect had largely worn off, and he was as light-hearted as ever.

On the following Saturday, being a half-holiday, he was, as usual, pressed into the home service, and sent to the smithy with a tool to be repaired. That it would occupy some time experience had taught him, especially when he saw a row of four horses standing to be shod first. Recognising the situation, he strolled off to amuse himself till it should be ready. He wandered to the burn which ran behind the smithy, and watched the trouts and sticklebacks, the water-hens and water-rats, with the keenest interest. He followed the stream slowly down to where it joined the river. At that point, as his eyes ranged up and down the familiar banks, he suddenly remembered the boat — a broad flat-bottomed coble — by means of which passengers were ferried across not far from the saw-mill. Instantly it occurred to him that during this enforced period of waiting he could have the perfectly unique enjoyment of a cruise on the river, if by good luck the boat should happen not to be padlocked to the big stone in the bank.

In a very few minutes he ran the distance, and found it, to his great joy, so fastened that he could easily set it free. It did not occur to him that, never having handled an oar in his life, he might not know how to manage the boat. He had seen it done with the greatest ease by others, and in the most sanguine fashion assumed that it was as simple as walking. The part chosen for the ferry was a deep, sluggish pool, which ended in a shallow rapid, studded with large stones projecting here and there above the water. Between these stones the stream rushed with great velocity and most eccentric eddies. The pool above was practically stagnant for a great part of its extent, and as he paddled about he thought he was doing beautifully. He pulled up the river till he reached the head of the pool, resolved to have a good spin down its whole length.

He had failed to observe that the water quickened its speed very considerably as it approached the rapid, and held on his course to the end of the pool. When at last he made an awkward attempt to put about, he found that by the time he got the boat round he was unable to stem the current, and that do what he would he was being swept down the stream. Once in the rapid, he was altogether powerless. He did not like the look of things at all. The water, indeed, was comparatively shallow, but the uncon trollable movements of the boat were very alarming, and every moment threatened him with shipwreck among the stones. He stood up to survey the unpromising situation. Finding himself approaching a conjunction of stones where he thought he could stop the runaway boat's career, he quickly seized an oar, and succeeded in blocking its further course.

As he began to wonder whether the water was too deep for him to wade ashore, he became aware of the saw-miller running with irate gestures towards the bank. The sound of the rushing water prevented him from hearing what he was saying, but he guessed that the language was more strong than complimentary. But what would he do ? That was the important question. On that subject Reuben was soon en lightened by seeing the miller take off his shoes and stockings, and, tucking up his trousers, proceed with angry countenance to wade towards the boat. As he drew near, Reuben began to hear above the sound of the waters his denunciations and threats of vengeance. " Just wait till I get hands on ye, ye young scoon'rel ! I'll gie ye something to gar ye min' on this day." He felt a distinct inclination not to fall into the hands of the miller, and would rather have risked the perils by water.

But at the last moment he thought of a way to escape both. The instant that his enemy's hand touched the boat, he withdrew the oar by which he had been holding it blocked against the stone. At once the boat swung round with the current, so that the miller was obliged to lay hold of it in order to prevent its being swept away. He then proceeded to drag it towards the shore, angrily threatening all the while to thrash Reuben well when he got to the bank. Reuben said nothing, but thought much. When, however, they approached the shore, his thinking gave place to swift and decided action. He sprang to the bank while the miller was still held occupied by the boat, and was proceeding to follow up his advantage by taking to his heels, when he remembered that he could keep out of the miller's clutches any day as long as he was not already in them.