The Lighthouse - Robert Michael Ballantyne (the best books of all time txt) 📗

have such a day, Minnie, if we live long."

"Have you ever been in the _Forbidden Cave_?" enquired Minnie.

"I'll warrant you he has," cried the captain, who overheard the question; "you may be sure that wherever Ruby is forbidden to go, there he'll be sure to go!"

"Ay, is he so self-willed?" asked the lieutenant, with a smile, and a glance at Minnie.

"A mule; a positive mule," said the captain.

"Come, uncle, you know that I don't deserve such a character, and it's too bad to give it to me to-day. Did I not agree to come on this excursion at once, when you asked me?"

"Ay, but you wouldn't if I had _ordered_ you," returned the captain.

"I rather think he would," observed the lieutenant, with another smile, and another glance at Minnie.

Both smiles and glances were observed and noticed by Ruby, whose heart felt another pang shoot through it; but this, like the former, subsided when the lieutenant again addressed the captain, and devoted himself to him so exclusively, that Ruby began to feel a touch of indignation at his want of appreciation of _such_ a girl as Minnie.

"He's a stupid ass," thought Ruby to himself, and then, turning to Minnie, directed her attention to a curious natural arch on the cliffs, and sought to forget all the rest of the world.

In this effort he was successful, and had gradually worked himself into the firm belief that the world was paradise, and that he and Minnie were its sole occupants--a second edition, as it were, of Adam and Eve--when the lieutenant rudely dispelled the sweet dream by saying sharply to the man at the bow-oar--

"Is that the boat, Baker? You ought to know it pretty well."

"I think it is, sir," answered the man, resting on his oar a moment, and glancing over his shoulder; "but I can't be sure at this distance."

"Well, pull easy," said the lieutenant; "you see, it won't do to scare them, Captain Ogilvy, and they'll think we're a pleasure party when they see a woman in the boat."

Ruby thought they would not be far wrong in supposing them a pleasure party. He objected, mentally, however, to Minnie being styled a "woman"--not that he would have had her called a man, but he thought that _girl_ would have been more suitable--angel, perhaps, the most appropriate term of all.

"Come, captain, I think I will join you in a pipe," said the lieutenant, pulling out a tin case, in which he kept the blackest of little cutty pipes. "In days of old our ancestors loved to fight--now we degenerate souls love to smoke the pipe of peace."

"I did not know that your ancestors were enemies," said Minnie to the captain.

"Enemies, lass! ay, that they were. What! have ye never heard tell o' the great fight between the Ogilvys and Lindsays?"

"Never," said Minnie.

"Then, my girl, your education has been neglected, but I'll do what I can to remedy that defect."

Here the captain rekindled his pipe (which was in the habit of going out, and requiring to be relighted), and, clearing his throat with the emphasis of one who is about to communicate something of importance, held forth as follows.


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.


THE BATTLE OF ARBROATH, AND OTHER WARLIKE MATTERS.

"It was in the year 1445--that's not far short o' four hundred years ago--ah! _tempus fugit_, which is a Latin quotation, my girl, from Horace Walpole, I believe, an' signifies time and tide waits for no man; that's what they calls a free translation, you must know; well, it was in the winter o' 1445 that a certain Alexander Ogilvy of Inverquharity, was chosen to act as Chief Justiciar in these parts--I suppose that means a kind of upper bailiff, a sort o' bo's'n's mate, to compare great things with small. He was set up in place of one o' the Lindsay family, who, it seems, was rather extravagant, though whether his extravagance lay in wearin' a beard (for he was called Earl Beardie), or in spendin' too much cash, I can't take upon me for to say. Anyhow, Beardie refused to haul down his colours, so the Ogilvys mustered their men and friends, and the Lindsays did the same, and they went at it, hammer and tongs, and fowt what ye may call the Battle of Arbroath, for it was close to the old town where they fell to.

"It was a most bloody affair. The two families were connected with many o' the richest and greatest people in the land, and these went to lend a hand when they beat to quarters, and there was no end o' barbed horses, as they call them--which means critters with steel spikes in their noses, I'm told--and lots of embroidered banners and flags, though I never heard that anyone hoisted the Union Jack; but, however that may be, they fowt like bluejackets, for five hundred men were left dead on the field, an' among them a lot o' the great folk.

"But I'm sorry to say that the Ogilvys were licked, though I say it that shouldn't," continued the captain, with a sigh, as he relighted his pipe. "Howsever,--


"`Never ventur', never win,
Blaze away an' don't give in,'


"As Milton remarks in his preface to the _Pilgrim's Progress_."

"True, captain," said the lieutenant, "and you know that he who fights and runs away, shall live to fight another day."

"Leftenant," said the captain gravely, "your quotation, besides bein' a kind o' desecration, is not applicable; 'cause the Ogilvys did _not_ run away. They fowt on that occasion like born imps, an' they would ha' certainly won the day, if they hadn't been, every man jack of 'em, cut to pieces before the battle was finished."

"Well said, uncle," exclaimed Ruby, with a laugh. "No doubt the Ogilvys would lick the Lindsays _now_ if they had a chance."

"I believe they would," said the lieutenant, "for they have become a race of heroes since the great day of the Battle of Arbroath. No doubt, Miss Gray," continued the lieutenant, turning to Minnie with an arch smile, "no doubt you have heard of that more recent event, the threatened attack on Arbroath by the French fire-eater, Captain Fall, and the heroic part played on that occasion by an Ogilvy--an uncle, I am told, of my good friend here?"

"I have heard of Captain Fall, of course," replied Minnie, "for it was not many years before I was born that his visit took place, and Mrs Brand has often told me of the consternation into which the town was thrown by his doings; but I never heard of the deeds of the Ogilvy to whom you refer."

"No? Now, that _is_ surprising! How comes it, captain, that you have kept so silent on this subject?"

"'Cause it ain't true," replied the captain stoutly, yet with a peculiar curl about the corners of his mouth, that implied something in the mind beyond what he expressed with the lips.

"Ah! I see--modesty," said Lindsay. "Your uncle is innately modest, Miss Gray, and never speaks of anything that bears the slightest resemblance to boasting. See, the grave solemnity with which he smokes while I say this proves the truth of my assertion. Well, since he has never told you, I will tell yell myself. You have no objection, captain?"

The captain sent a volume of smoke from his lips, and followed it up with--"Fire away, shipmet."

The lieutenant, having drawn a few whiffs in order to ensure the continued combustion of his pipe, related the following anecdote, which is now matter of history, as anyone may find by consulting the archives of Arbroath.

"In the year 1781, on a fine evening of the month of May, the seamen of Arbroath who chanced to be loitering about the harbour observed a strange vessel manoeuvring in the offing. They watched and commented on the motions of the stranger with considerable interest, for the wary skill displayed by her commander proved that he was unacquainted with the navigation of the coast, and from the cut of her jib they knew that the craft was a foreigner. After a time she took up a position, and cast anchor in the bay, directly opposite the town.

"At that time we were, as we still are, and as it really appears likely to me we ever shall be, at war with France; but as the scene of the war was far removed from Arbroath, it never occurred to the good people that the smell of powder could reach their peaceful town. That idea was somewhat rudely forced upon them when the French flag was run up to the mizzentop, and a white puff of smoke burst from the vessel, which was followed by a shot, that went hissing over their heads, and plumped right into the middle of the town!

"That shot knocked over fifteen chimney-pots and two weathercocks in Market-gate, went slap through a house in the suburbs, and finally stuck in the carcass of an old horse belonging to the Provost of the town, which didn't survive the shock--the horse, I mean, not the Provost.

"It is said that there was an old gentleman lying in bed in a room of the house that the shot went through. He was a sort of `hipped' character, and believed that he could not walk, if he were to try ever so much. He was looking quietly at the face of a great Dutch clock when the shot entered and knocked the clock inside out, sending its contents in a shower over the old gentleman, who jumped up and rushed out of the house like a maniac! He was cured completely from that hour. At least, so it's said, but I don't vouch for the truth of the story.

"However, certain it is that the shot was fired, and was followed up by two or three more; after which the Frenchman ceased firing, and a boat was seen to quit the side of the craft, bearing a flag of truce.

"The consternation into which the town was thrown is said to have been tremendous."

"That's false," interrupted the captain, removing his pipe while he spoke. "The word ain't appropriate. The men of Arbroath doesn't know nothin' about no such word as `consternation.' They was _surprised_, if ye choose, an' powerfully enraged mayhap, but they wasn't consternated by no means."

"Well, I don't insist on the point," said the lieutenant, "but chroniclers write so--

"Chroniclers write lies sometimes," interrupted the captain curtly.

"Perhaps they do; but you will admit, I dare say, that the women and children were thrown into a great state of alarm."

"I'm not so sure of that," interposed Ruby. "In a town where the men were so bold, the women and children would be apt to feel very much at their ease. At all events, I am acquainted with _some_ women who are not easily frightened."

"Really, I think it is not fair to interrupt the story in this way," said Minnie, with a laugh.

"Right, lass, right," said the captain. "Come, leftenant, spin away at yer yarn, and don't ventur' too much commentary thereon, 'cause it's apt to lead to error, an' ye know, as the poet says--


"`Errors in the heart breed errors in the brain,
An'