The Master of Ballantrae Chapter 2

Robert Louis Stevenson (0:10)

Chapter 2 Summary of Events.

I made the last of my journey In the cold end of December, In a mighty dry day of frost, And who should be my guide but Pate MacMorland, Brother of Tam? For a toe-headed, bare-legged brat of ten, He had more ill tales upon his tongue Than ever I heard the match of, Having drunken betimes in his brother's cup. I was still not so old myself. Pride had not yet the upper hand of curiosity, And indeed it would have taken any man That cold morning to hear all the old clashes of the country And be shown all the places, by the way, Where strange things had fallen out. I had tales of Claver House As we came through the bobs, And tales of the devil As we came over the top of the scar. As we came in by the abbey I heard somewhat of the old monks And more of the free traders Who use its ruins for a magazine, Landing for that cause Within a cannon-shot of Durrisdeer. And along all the road The deuries and poor Mr. Henry Were in the first rank of slander. My mind was thus highly prejudiced Against the family I was about to serve, So that I was half surprised When I beheld Durrisdeer itself, Lying in a pretty sheltered bay Under the abbey hill, The house most promodiously built In the French fashion, Or perhaps Italianate, For I have no skill in these arts, And the place the most beautified With gardens, lawns, shrubberies and trees I had ever seen. The money sunk here unproductively Would have quite restored the family, But as it was it cost a revenue To keep it up.

Mr. Henry came himself To the door to welcome me, A tall, dark, young gentleman The Durris are all black men Of a plain and not cheerful face, Very strong in body, But not so strong in health, Taking me by the hand without any pride And putting me at home With plain kind speeches. He led me into the hall, Mooted as I was, To present me to my lord. It was still daylight, And the first thing I observed Was a lozenge of clear glass In the midst of the shield in the painted window, Which I remember thinking a blemish On a room otherwise so handsome, With its family portraits, And the parchated ceiling with pendants, And the carved chimney, In one corner of which my old lord sat reading in his livy. He was like Mr. Henry with much the same plain countenance, Only more subtle and pleasant, And his talk a thousand times more entertaining. He had many questions to ask me, I remember, of Edinburgh College, Where I had just received my Mastership of Arts, And of the various professors, With whom and their proficiency he seemed well acquainted. And thus, talking of things that I knew, I soon got liberty of speech in my new home. In the midst of this came Mrs. Henry into the room. She was very far gone, Miss Catherine being due in about six weeks, Which made me think less of her beauty at the first sight, And she used me with more of condescension than the rest, So that upon all accounts I kept her in the third place of my esteem. It did not take long before all Pater MacMorland's tales Were blotted out of my belief, And I was become what I have ever since remained A loving servant of the house of Durrisdeer. Mr. Henry had the chief part of my affection. It was with him I worked, And I found him an exacting master, Keeping all his kindness for those hours in which we were unemployed, And in the steward's office not only loading me with work, But viewing me with a shrewd supervision. At length one day he looked up from his paper with a kind of timidness, And says he, Mr. McKellar, I think I ought to tell you that you do very well.

That was my first word of commendation, And from that day his jealousy of my performance was relaxed. Soon it was Mr. McKellar here and Mr. McKellar there with the whole family, And for much of my service at Durrisdeer I have transacted everything in my own time and to my own fancy, And never a farthing challenged. Even while he was driving me I had begun to find my heart go out to Mr. Henry. No doubt partly in pity he was a man so palpably unhappy. He would fall into a deep muse over our accounts, staring at the page or out of the window, and at those times the look of his face and the sigh that would break from him awoke in me strong feelings of curiosity and commiseration. One day I remember we were late upon some business in the steward's room. This room is at the top of the house, and has a view upon the bay and over a little wooded cape on the long sands. And there right over against the sun, which was then dipping, we saw the free traders with a great force of men and horses scouring on the beach. Mr. Henry had been staring straight west, so that I marvelled he was not blinded by the sun. Suddenly he frowns, rubs his hand upon his brow, and turns to me with a smile.