Second Sight (6 page)
Authors: Neil M. Gunn
“Yes, your father's. Geoffrey has manifestly had no luck. Which way did Alick go?”
“Round that way,” and she indicated the right. Then she left the window and Harry slowly followed her. “Well, that's a relief, isn't it?” she said.
“Yes.”
But the brightness in her question was artificial and Harry did not respond to it. He stood preoccupied. It was a mood utterly unaccountable to him, in which there was no relief.
He said vaguely, “I wonder what's happened?” And she answered, “I don't know.”
The figures of Sir John and Geoffrey passing the window and their voices as they came in at the outside door to the gun-room stirred them reluctantly. Their eyes met in a glance, in a half-rueful smile. Had they been children they might have taken hands and fled.
But Geoffrey's loud, “Hallo, you two!” brought the real world into the room, and Harry asked, “What luck?”
“Rotten!” said Geoffrey, rubbing his palms audibly and sending currents of fresh air about the room. “We had a magnificent stalk into the Rock Corrie. The last bit I had to do all on my own. The stag could see me. So Angus stayed behind. I crawled flat out. When the stag's head went up, I lay still. Oh, devilish tricky. But I did it! And thenâI don't know what happened. Hang it, I was mad! It was not that the shot was too far. I should have done it. Only I was firing downhill.”
“And you fired over his back?”
“No,” said Geoffrey. “No. That's the cursed thing. You are told that you are likely to fire over his back, downhill. So I tried to correct it. And I am now quite satisfied I was
too low.
If Angus hadn't whispered, âRemember it's downhill', I'm certain I'd have got him.”
Harry laughed, and Helen went to meet her father quickly, implanting a swift kiss on his cheek. “Because you deserve your luck!”
“Thank you, my dear. And Maclean was so goodââ”
“Oh.” She flew to the drink cabinet.
“So you had all the luck to-day,” Harry greeted him.
“I'm afraid so,” said Sir John. “Butâone minute.”
“My sympathy, Geoffrey,” said Helen.
Geoffrey, who had hardly ceased talking, turned to her. “Yes, rotten luck, wasn't it? Dash it, and I wondered to myself even as I was pullingâwhat if I'm too low? And quite a good head. We had come to the top of a little watercourse, and now there was the curve-over of the ground which brought me into sight. The stag could see me. So it was inch by inch, pulling with my fingers and pushing with my toes, stopping when he raised his headâand then waiting a second to see he did not raise it quickly againâand then wriggling on. And all the time in my head”âGeoffrey attempted Angus's accentâ“ âRemember eet's downhill'.”
“Did you tell him about it afterwards?”
“I did. Not unpleasantly, of course. StillâI admit I was a bit put out.”
“You didn't swear, I hope?” Helen asked.
“No no,” said Geoffrey. “Not that you would notice.” And he laughed. He seemed in such good form, considering his trials and the blank day, so excitedly taken up with the sportâwhich, after all, was the reason for their being hereâthat Harry remembered his dark moment or hatred with some uneasiness.
Sir John came in again, his gaunt, smileless face saying quietly, “Sorry about your lost day, Harry.” He set down the decanter on top of the cabinet. “If I had been sure, when we left, that Alick would not turn up, we could have fixed you up with Andrew all right. Maclean was saying that Andrew did some good work with the hinds last winter.”
“Oh, it was quite all right. I really enjoyed the lazy day. Besides, I thought it would give Geoffrey the whole field forâuhâKing Brude.”
“When did Alick actually turn up?” Sir John asked.
“As a matter of fact, I went for a long tramp and haven't yet spoken to him.”
“Oh,” said Sir John thoughtfully. “I saw him meet Maclean some way back. I took it for granted you had sent him. Too bad of him. Really too bad.”
Geoffrey chuckled heartily. “He'll have squared Maclean first! I say, would it not be fun to ask him point-blank what excuse he has? The trouble is”âand he smiled to Sir John with a certain sly amusementâ“that you would not push the matter to a relentless finish: too considerate, if you can pardon my saying so. And as for Harry hereâhe'd be made to
see
an excuse. Now if you'd let me have a few simple words with himâI shouldn't miss a second time!”
“I could hardlyââ” Sir John smiled.
“Merely just to demonstrate,” suggested Geoffrey. “To my mind, he'll either tell the truth or he'll tell a whacking lie. I'll give you twenty to one now that he'll tell perhaps an elaborate, even an artistic, but still a whacking lie. And I'll expose it by simple question and answer. I shan't rub it in or anything.” Geoffrey was in ruthlessly good form. “I mean I shan't make it uncomfortable for theâuhâmore sensitive minds present.”
“Geoffrey, how could you think of such a thing!” said Helen.
“There you go!” And Geoffrey had his laugh.
“I'm agreeable,” said Harry. “And as for the bet, right. Twenty to one in what?”
“My feet are sodden,” said Sir John. “Shall I leave justice in your hands, Harry, seeing you lost your day? And do you mind my having the bath first, Geoffrey? Thanks.”
When he had gone, Helen turned on the two men. “I think this is grossly unfair.”
“Why?” asked Harry.
“Why?” she repeated, looking at his set face with some astonishment. “Because you obviously have him at a disadvantage.”
“So you know he would lie?” Geoffrey smiled dryly.
“I never said that.”
“No?” Geoffrey raised mock eyebrows. “I must be getting dull. Or is the light beginning to fail?”
The daylight was in fact beginning to go, and Helen's face seemed to gather a paler glow. “You can be maddening.”
Geoffrey laughed again.
“I'll get hold of him,” said Harry casually.
“What?” demanded Helen.
“Well, why not?” asked Harry, facing her. Though he did not show it, he was stung by Geoffrey's attitude, and suddenly annoyed that Alick had not reported to him first. It was the very least the fellow might have done. “He deserves all he'll get.”
“Having him cornered, you'll both proceed to hit him. In that case, don't you think it would be better to do it as his superiorsânot as his friends?” She went to the bell-pull. It slapped back firmly. They kept looking at her, but she ignored them. The door opened and Mairi appeared. “Is Alick about, Mairi?”
For a fraction of a second Mairi's eyes went blank, evasive. “I think so, ma'm.”
“Would you mind asking him to come here?”
“Yes'm.” Mairi withdrew.
“Well, I'm damned!” Geoffrey enjoyed the moment. “But you're quite right. We've got to go straight about this.”
“Do you suggest someone was going to go crooked?” Harry asked.
Geoffrey caught the dry inflection. “Oh, you know there's no offence. You are, you know it, sympatheticâand, to that degree, not the best person to draw out the brutal truth.”
“I see.”
“Now, look here, Harry,” and Geoffrey's tone tried to be reasonable. “You just watch what happens. If the fellow confesses right awayâthat's one up for you. If we find him in an involved lie, then you may be better able to understand my scepticism, not only of this affair which, if you like, is unimportant, but of last nightâwhich you contrived to make us think
is
important.”
“Very good,” said Harry, tonelessly.
There was silence. Geoffrey glanced from one to the other, but they were not looking at him or at anything in particular. He had difficulty in keeping his peculiar humour in control. Then Helen's head went up, listened, and she strolled to the bookcase. To the knock on the door, Harry called “Come in!” and Alick entered a pace or two and stood still.
He was without any trace of self-consciousness. His face was quite expressionless, yet not wooden. He looked levelly across the floor at Harry, awaiting his question or humour.
In the involuntary silence, Helen, lifting her head from the book she had picked up, glanced at him from under her lashes and was thrilled, for she realised she might have been guilty of commanding a presence that would have been awkward, dourly self-defensive, intolerably painful to her. Neither a duke nor a butler could ever have been so naturally there! And though the moment was not one for a smile, a slight warmth did steal over her body. She found herself tremulous with excitement, as Harry's voice came without any stress: “You didn't turn up to-day, Alick?”
“No, sir.”
They waited until it was quite clear that no excuse was to be given.
“I thought at least you might have come and told meâand so saved me hanging on here.”
“I'm sorry,” said Alick.
“What happened?”
Alick gave no response of any kind.
“You do not care to say?” Harry pursued him.
“No, sir.”
“Was it so very private?”
No answer.
Geoffrey stirred. “In fact,” he said, “you refuse to discuss the matter?”
Alick looked at him.
“Is that it?” asked Geoffrey with his driest smile.
“No,” said Alick.
“Good,” said Geoffrey. “Where did you go last night?”
“I think, what I do at night, is my own concern,” said Alick without any stress.
Geoffrey's lips parted for an astonished moment. “Oh, I see! Well, what did you do with yourself this morning, which, I trust you will agree, is our concern?”
“I was on the hill.”
“On the hill! All alone?”
“Yes,” said Alick.
“And what were you doing on the hill, all alone?”
No answer.
“Stalking?” suggested Geoffrey.
“Yes,” said Alick.
“Very interesting,” said Geoffrey. “From pure love of itâor were you trying to get a beast for someoneâas a present, let us say?⦠Can't you answer?”
“I was not poaching.”
“Stalking just for fun like.” Geoffrey nodded. “I see. Was it a good beast?”
“It was King Brude.”
Which silenced the room, until Geoffrey, with a small secret smile to himself, blandly asked, “Did you get him?”
“I had no rifle.”
“Go on,” said Geoffrey.
“Last night, he headed out of the forestâso I thought I'd turn him back.”
“And did you?”
“Yes,” said Alick.
Geoffrey regarded him for a few moments in silence. “Why didn't you say so at onceâor did you require time to develop this story? I askâbecause you said at first you would rather not tell. Was the good deed for the forest, then, something to be ashamed of?⦠I must be frank. In a word, how can you expect us to believe you?”
“I'd rather not say,” replied Alick, his eyes levelly on Geoffrey.
With a dry smile, Geoffrey responded, “I appreciate the difficulty. However, I'm sure we'd all like to have the details of your story. By the way, had you any witness?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Yourself,” said Alick.
“I beg your pardon,” said Geoffrey.
“You didn't see me. You were stalking at the time.”
“I happened to be stalking all day. Whereabouts
exactly
did you see me stalking?”
“In the Rock Corrie.”
Geoffrey's eyes narrowed on him. “And what was I doing?”
“You were stalking over the brow of the corrieâin sightâall alone.”
“You mean, you have been talking to Angus?”
“Angus was not with you
then.
”
“Really?”
“You crept alongââ”
“Oh, look here,” said Geoffrey, impatiently interrupting him, “the only place you could spy into the Rock Corrie from was Benuain. Isn't that so?”
“Yes.”
“And do you mean to ask me to believe you could pick me up, crawling, from that distance, even with a telescope?”
Alick went on as if Geoffrey had not spoken. “Twice the stag you were after raised his head and looked towards you. You lay still until he started to feed again. When you got into position, you saw another stagâ
a very particular stag
âat what you said to yourself was
over three hundred yards.
Will I go on?”
“Oh, good heavens,” said Geoffrey, throwing his hands up with a harsh laugh, “this nonsense is just too much!” Then he rounded on Alick. “Will you answer this one question sanely? If you had been on top of Benuainâhow on earth could you have performed the feat of being back there at the Beallach before usâunless you flew?”
They watched Alick in what became a tense silence, for into his eyes, as they remained on Geoffrey, came a light that communicated hidden knowledge, an assured and intolerable knowledge. Helen stopped breathing. Alick's words came slowly:
“I was not on Benuain.”
Even Geoffrey was held, as one is held in a nightmare, until he broke out, blustering, chuckling raucously. “Oh, but this is the sheerest utter nonsense.”
“Will I go on?” Alick asked him.
“There is a limitâeven to my patience,” said Geoffrey, stamping about.
“But why not let him go on?” Helen asked Geoffrey.
“Go on,” said Harry to Alick.
But Alick kept his eyes on Geoffrey, who clearly had had enough of them. “I'm used to dealing with evidenceânot fairy stories,” he was saying, heaving his shoulders, and blowing his wind through closed lips, “pfff!” as if the chill of having been on the hill was at last getting at him and it was high time he was doing something sensible, like getting into a hot bath, instead of listening to this trickster and his manifest nonsense.
“Round that way,” and she indicated the right. Then she left the window and Harry slowly followed her. “Well, that's a relief, isn't it?” she said.
“Yes.”
But the brightness in her question was artificial and Harry did not respond to it. He stood preoccupied. It was a mood utterly unaccountable to him, in which there was no relief.
He said vaguely, “I wonder what's happened?” And she answered, “I don't know.”
The figures of Sir John and Geoffrey passing the window and their voices as they came in at the outside door to the gun-room stirred them reluctantly. Their eyes met in a glance, in a half-rueful smile. Had they been children they might have taken hands and fled.
But Geoffrey's loud, “Hallo, you two!” brought the real world into the room, and Harry asked, “What luck?”
“Rotten!” said Geoffrey, rubbing his palms audibly and sending currents of fresh air about the room. “We had a magnificent stalk into the Rock Corrie. The last bit I had to do all on my own. The stag could see me. So Angus stayed behind. I crawled flat out. When the stag's head went up, I lay still. Oh, devilish tricky. But I did it! And thenâI don't know what happened. Hang it, I was mad! It was not that the shot was too far. I should have done it. Only I was firing downhill.”
“And you fired over his back?”
“No,” said Geoffrey. “No. That's the cursed thing. You are told that you are likely to fire over his back, downhill. So I tried to correct it. And I am now quite satisfied I was
too low.
If Angus hadn't whispered, âRemember it's downhill', I'm certain I'd have got him.”
Harry laughed, and Helen went to meet her father quickly, implanting a swift kiss on his cheek. “Because you deserve your luck!”
“Thank you, my dear. And Maclean was so goodââ”
“Oh.” She flew to the drink cabinet.
“So you had all the luck to-day,” Harry greeted him.
“I'm afraid so,” said Sir John. “Butâone minute.”
“My sympathy, Geoffrey,” said Helen.
Geoffrey, who had hardly ceased talking, turned to her. “Yes, rotten luck, wasn't it? Dash it, and I wondered to myself even as I was pullingâwhat if I'm too low? And quite a good head. We had come to the top of a little watercourse, and now there was the curve-over of the ground which brought me into sight. The stag could see me. So it was inch by inch, pulling with my fingers and pushing with my toes, stopping when he raised his headâand then waiting a second to see he did not raise it quickly againâand then wriggling on. And all the time in my head”âGeoffrey attempted Angus's accentâ“ âRemember eet's downhill'.”
“Did you tell him about it afterwards?”
“I did. Not unpleasantly, of course. StillâI admit I was a bit put out.”
“You didn't swear, I hope?” Helen asked.
“No no,” said Geoffrey. “Not that you would notice.” And he laughed. He seemed in such good form, considering his trials and the blank day, so excitedly taken up with the sportâwhich, after all, was the reason for their being hereâthat Harry remembered his dark moment or hatred with some uneasiness.
Sir John came in again, his gaunt, smileless face saying quietly, “Sorry about your lost day, Harry.” He set down the decanter on top of the cabinet. “If I had been sure, when we left, that Alick would not turn up, we could have fixed you up with Andrew all right. Maclean was saying that Andrew did some good work with the hinds last winter.”
“Oh, it was quite all right. I really enjoyed the lazy day. Besides, I thought it would give Geoffrey the whole field forâuhâKing Brude.”
“When did Alick actually turn up?” Sir John asked.
“As a matter of fact, I went for a long tramp and haven't yet spoken to him.”
“Oh,” said Sir John thoughtfully. “I saw him meet Maclean some way back. I took it for granted you had sent him. Too bad of him. Really too bad.”
Geoffrey chuckled heartily. “He'll have squared Maclean first! I say, would it not be fun to ask him point-blank what excuse he has? The trouble is”âand he smiled to Sir John with a certain sly amusementâ“that you would not push the matter to a relentless finish: too considerate, if you can pardon my saying so. And as for Harry hereâhe'd be made to
see
an excuse. Now if you'd let me have a few simple words with himâI shouldn't miss a second time!”
“I could hardlyââ” Sir John smiled.
“Merely just to demonstrate,” suggested Geoffrey. “To my mind, he'll either tell the truth or he'll tell a whacking lie. I'll give you twenty to one now that he'll tell perhaps an elaborate, even an artistic, but still a whacking lie. And I'll expose it by simple question and answer. I shan't rub it in or anything.” Geoffrey was in ruthlessly good form. “I mean I shan't make it uncomfortable for theâuhâmore sensitive minds present.”
“Geoffrey, how could you think of such a thing!” said Helen.
“There you go!” And Geoffrey had his laugh.
“I'm agreeable,” said Harry. “And as for the bet, right. Twenty to one in what?”
“My feet are sodden,” said Sir John. “Shall I leave justice in your hands, Harry, seeing you lost your day? And do you mind my having the bath first, Geoffrey? Thanks.”
When he had gone, Helen turned on the two men. “I think this is grossly unfair.”
“Why?” asked Harry.
“Why?” she repeated, looking at his set face with some astonishment. “Because you obviously have him at a disadvantage.”
“So you know he would lie?” Geoffrey smiled dryly.
“I never said that.”
“No?” Geoffrey raised mock eyebrows. “I must be getting dull. Or is the light beginning to fail?”
The daylight was in fact beginning to go, and Helen's face seemed to gather a paler glow. “You can be maddening.”
Geoffrey laughed again.
“I'll get hold of him,” said Harry casually.
“What?” demanded Helen.
“Well, why not?” asked Harry, facing her. Though he did not show it, he was stung by Geoffrey's attitude, and suddenly annoyed that Alick had not reported to him first. It was the very least the fellow might have done. “He deserves all he'll get.”
“Having him cornered, you'll both proceed to hit him. In that case, don't you think it would be better to do it as his superiorsânot as his friends?” She went to the bell-pull. It slapped back firmly. They kept looking at her, but she ignored them. The door opened and Mairi appeared. “Is Alick about, Mairi?”
For a fraction of a second Mairi's eyes went blank, evasive. “I think so, ma'm.”
“Would you mind asking him to come here?”
“Yes'm.” Mairi withdrew.
“Well, I'm damned!” Geoffrey enjoyed the moment. “But you're quite right. We've got to go straight about this.”
“Do you suggest someone was going to go crooked?” Harry asked.
Geoffrey caught the dry inflection. “Oh, you know there's no offence. You are, you know it, sympatheticâand, to that degree, not the best person to draw out the brutal truth.”
“I see.”
“Now, look here, Harry,” and Geoffrey's tone tried to be reasonable. “You just watch what happens. If the fellow confesses right awayâthat's one up for you. If we find him in an involved lie, then you may be better able to understand my scepticism, not only of this affair which, if you like, is unimportant, but of last nightâwhich you contrived to make us think
is
important.”
“Very good,” said Harry, tonelessly.
There was silence. Geoffrey glanced from one to the other, but they were not looking at him or at anything in particular. He had difficulty in keeping his peculiar humour in control. Then Helen's head went up, listened, and she strolled to the bookcase. To the knock on the door, Harry called “Come in!” and Alick entered a pace or two and stood still.
He was without any trace of self-consciousness. His face was quite expressionless, yet not wooden. He looked levelly across the floor at Harry, awaiting his question or humour.
In the involuntary silence, Helen, lifting her head from the book she had picked up, glanced at him from under her lashes and was thrilled, for she realised she might have been guilty of commanding a presence that would have been awkward, dourly self-defensive, intolerably painful to her. Neither a duke nor a butler could ever have been so naturally there! And though the moment was not one for a smile, a slight warmth did steal over her body. She found herself tremulous with excitement, as Harry's voice came without any stress: “You didn't turn up to-day, Alick?”
“No, sir.”
They waited until it was quite clear that no excuse was to be given.
“I thought at least you might have come and told meâand so saved me hanging on here.”
“I'm sorry,” said Alick.
“What happened?”
Alick gave no response of any kind.
“You do not care to say?” Harry pursued him.
“No, sir.”
“Was it so very private?”
No answer.
Geoffrey stirred. “In fact,” he said, “you refuse to discuss the matter?”
Alick looked at him.
“Is that it?” asked Geoffrey with his driest smile.
“No,” said Alick.
“Good,” said Geoffrey. “Where did you go last night?”
“I think, what I do at night, is my own concern,” said Alick without any stress.
Geoffrey's lips parted for an astonished moment. “Oh, I see! Well, what did you do with yourself this morning, which, I trust you will agree, is our concern?”
“I was on the hill.”
“On the hill! All alone?”
“Yes,” said Alick.
“And what were you doing on the hill, all alone?”
No answer.
“Stalking?” suggested Geoffrey.
“Yes,” said Alick.
“Very interesting,” said Geoffrey. “From pure love of itâor were you trying to get a beast for someoneâas a present, let us say?⦠Can't you answer?”
“I was not poaching.”
“Stalking just for fun like.” Geoffrey nodded. “I see. Was it a good beast?”
“It was King Brude.”
Which silenced the room, until Geoffrey, with a small secret smile to himself, blandly asked, “Did you get him?”
“I had no rifle.”
“Go on,” said Geoffrey.
“Last night, he headed out of the forestâso I thought I'd turn him back.”
“And did you?”
“Yes,” said Alick.
Geoffrey regarded him for a few moments in silence. “Why didn't you say so at onceâor did you require time to develop this story? I askâbecause you said at first you would rather not tell. Was the good deed for the forest, then, something to be ashamed of?⦠I must be frank. In a word, how can you expect us to believe you?”
“I'd rather not say,” replied Alick, his eyes levelly on Geoffrey.
With a dry smile, Geoffrey responded, “I appreciate the difficulty. However, I'm sure we'd all like to have the details of your story. By the way, had you any witness?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Yourself,” said Alick.
“I beg your pardon,” said Geoffrey.
“You didn't see me. You were stalking at the time.”
“I happened to be stalking all day. Whereabouts
exactly
did you see me stalking?”
“In the Rock Corrie.”
Geoffrey's eyes narrowed on him. “And what was I doing?”
“You were stalking over the brow of the corrieâin sightâall alone.”
“You mean, you have been talking to Angus?”
“Angus was not with you
then.
”
“Really?”
“You crept alongââ”
“Oh, look here,” said Geoffrey, impatiently interrupting him, “the only place you could spy into the Rock Corrie from was Benuain. Isn't that so?”
“Yes.”
“And do you mean to ask me to believe you could pick me up, crawling, from that distance, even with a telescope?”
Alick went on as if Geoffrey had not spoken. “Twice the stag you were after raised his head and looked towards you. You lay still until he started to feed again. When you got into position, you saw another stagâ
a very particular stag
âat what you said to yourself was
over three hundred yards.
Will I go on?”
“Oh, good heavens,” said Geoffrey, throwing his hands up with a harsh laugh, “this nonsense is just too much!” Then he rounded on Alick. “Will you answer this one question sanely? If you had been on top of Benuainâhow on earth could you have performed the feat of being back there at the Beallach before usâunless you flew?”
They watched Alick in what became a tense silence, for into his eyes, as they remained on Geoffrey, came a light that communicated hidden knowledge, an assured and intolerable knowledge. Helen stopped breathing. Alick's words came slowly:
“I was not on Benuain.”
Even Geoffrey was held, as one is held in a nightmare, until he broke out, blustering, chuckling raucously. “Oh, but this is the sheerest utter nonsense.”
“Will I go on?” Alick asked him.
“There is a limitâeven to my patience,” said Geoffrey, stamping about.
“But why not let him go on?” Helen asked Geoffrey.
“Go on,” said Harry to Alick.
But Alick kept his eyes on Geoffrey, who clearly had had enough of them. “I'm used to dealing with evidenceânot fairy stories,” he was saying, heaving his shoulders, and blowing his wind through closed lips, “pfff!” as if the chill of having been on the hill was at last getting at him and it was high time he was doing something sensible, like getting into a hot bath, instead of listening to this trickster and his manifest nonsense.
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