The Green Ray Read Online

“You here, gentlemen, at Oban?”

“Since last night,” said Sam.

“And we are happy to see you, Mr. Ursiclos, looking so well,” added Sib.

“Oh, very well indeed, gentlemen. Of course you have heard of the despatch which has just arrived?”

“The despatch?” said Sam. “Has Gladstone already—”

“It has nothing to do with Gladstone,” replied Mr. Ursiclos, somewhat disdainfully; “it is a meteorological report.”

“Ah, indeed!” replied the two brothers.

“Yes; it is announced that the depression at Swinemunde has moved towards the north, and has sensibly fallen. Its centre is at present near Stockholm, where the barometer, declining an inch, that is twenty-five millimetres,”—to make use of the decimal system in vogue with savants—” stands at twenty-eight inches and six-tenths, or 726 millimétres. Though the pressure varies little in England and Scotland, it fell a tenth yesterday at Valentia, and two-tenths at Stornoway.”

“And from this depression—?” asked Sam.

“We must conclude—?” added Sib.

“That this fine weather will not last,” replied Aristobulus Ursiclos; “and that the sky will soon be charged with rain-clouds, brought up by the south-westerly winds from the Atlantic.”

The brothers thanked the young savant for having acquainted them with this interesting prognostic, and concluded from it that they would have to wait some time for the Green Ray, for which they were not in the least sorry, as it would serve to prolong their stay at Oban.

“And you have come—?” asked Aristobulus, after having picked up a flint, which he examined with the greatest attention.

The two brothers took care not to interrupt him in this study, but when the flint had been added to the collection already in the young savant’s pocket,—

“We have come with the very natural intention of spending a short time here,” began Sib.

“And we must add,” said Sam, “that Miss Campbell, who accompanies us, has—”

“Ah! Miss Campbell,” interrupted Aristobulus. “I believe that flint belongs to the Gaelic epoch, there are marks on it—really I shall be charmed to see Miss Campbell again!—marks of meteoric origin. This remarkably mild climate will do her a great deal of good.”

“At present she is wonderfully well,” observed Sam; “and has no need of the trip for her health.”

“No matter,” continued Aristobulus, “the air is excellent here; zero twenty-one of oxygen, and zero seventy-nine of azote, with a little moisture in hygienic quantity; as for carbonic acid, there is scarcely a vestige. I analyze it every morning.”

The brothers flattered themselves that it was a polite attention intended for their niece.

“But,” asked Aristobulus, “if you did not come to Oban on account of your health, may I ask why you left Helensburgh?”

“We have no need to conceal the reason from you, considering the position in which we stand,” replied Sib.

“Am I to believe that this change,” interrupted the young savant, “is owing to a very natural desire to give me an opportunity of seeing Miss Campbell under circumstances where we shall have better opportunity of knowing and esteeming each other?”

“Assuredly,” replied Sam; “we thought that in this way the end might be attained more easily.”

“I approve of your plan, gentlemen,” said Aristobulus. “Here, Miss Campbell and I are on neutral ground; we shall be able, occasionally, to talk of the fluctuations of the sea, the direction of the winds, the height of the waves, the variation of the tides, and other physical phenomena, which must be of the highest interest to her!”

After exchanging a smile of satisfaction, the brothers bowed their approbation, and added that, on their return to Helensburgh, they hoped to receive their amiable guest under a more definite title.

Aristobulus replied that he had great pleasure in accepting their invitation, and still more so as the Government were just now about to make some important drainage works on the Clyde, between Helensburgh and Greenock—works to be carried on under novel conditions, by means of electric engines; thus, while he was staying at the hall, he would be able to make observations of the work, and calculate its probable utility.

The brothers could not but acknowledge how favourable this coincidence was to their plans; when the young savant was not otherwise engaged, he would be able to amuse himself, following the different phases of this interesting work.

“But,” asked Aristobulus, “of course you doubtless thought of some pretext for coming here, for Miss Campbell will hardly expect to see me at Oban?”

“Yes, indeed,” replied Sib, “and our niece herself furnished this pretext.”

“Ah!” exclaimed the young savant; “and what is it?”

“It is a question of seeing some physical phenomenon, under conditions which cannot be obtained at Helensburgh.”

“Indeed, gentlemen,” said Aristobulus, adjusting his spectacles; “this, already, proves that there is a sympathetic affinity between Miss Campbell and myself! May I know what the phenomenon is which cannot be observed at Helensburgh?”

“Nothing more or less than the Green Ray,” replied Sam.

“The Green Ray?” exclaimed Aristobulus, with some surprise. “I have never heard of it! Dare I ask what this Green Ray may be?”

The brothers explained as well as they could the nature of the phenomenon which had lately been drawn to the attention of the readers of the Morning Post.

“Pooh!” said Aristobulus, “it is a mere curiosity, of very little interest, which may be included in the somewhat childish domain of amusing physics.”

“Miss Campbell is but a young girl,” replied Sib, “and she seems to attach an exaggerated importance to this phenomenon—”

“For she declares she will never marry until she has seen it,” added Sam.

“Ah! well, gentlemen,” replied Aristobulus, “we will show her the Green Ray!”

Then all three, taking the lane through the fields alongside the shore, returned to the hotel.

Aristobulus did not lose this opportunity of observing to the brothers how women’s minds were easily pleased with trifles, and he enlarged upon this subject, by dwelling at length upon all that must be done to raise the level of their neglected education, not that he thought their brain, which is less provided with cerebral matter than a man’s, and very different in the arrangement of its cells, could ever attain to the intelligence of lofty speculations! But without going as far as that, perhaps it might be elevated by a special course of training; although ever since there had been women in the world, never had one of them distinguished herself by any of those discoveries which rendered illustrious Aristotle, Euclid, Harvey, Hahnemann, Pascal, Newton, Laplace, Arago, Humphrey Davy, Edison, and others.

Then he launched into an explanation of different physical phenomena, and discoursed of omni re scibili without any further mention of Miss Campbell.

The brothers listened to him attentively—all the more so perhaps as they were unable to get in a word during this monologue, which Aristobulus emphasized with imperious and pedantic hums and has!

When they were within a few paces of the hotel they stopped for a minute, to take leave of each other.

A young lady was standing at one of the hotel windows, and, with a disconcerted air, seemed to be looking in every direction for something.

All at once Miss Campbell—for she it was—caught sight of her uncles; the window was immediately closed and a few minutes later the young girl came to them on the beach, looking very grave and reproachful.

The brothers exchanged a glance. What was the matter with Helena? Was it the presence of Aristobulus which seemed to annoy her?

Meanwhile, the young savant had advanced, and was bowing stiffly to Miss Campbell.

“Mr. Ursiclos—” said the one brother, ceremoniously introducing him.

“Who, by the greatest chance, happens to be at Oban—” added Sib.

“Ah! Mr. Ursiclos?”

And Miss Campbell scarcely took the trouble to bow.

Then turning to her uncles, who felt very much embarrassed, and hardly knew which way to look,—

“Uncles?” she said sternly.

“Yes, dear Helena,” replied they both, somewhat uneasily.

“Are we really at Oban?”

“At Oban? certainly.”

“On the western coast?”

“Exactly.”

“Very well, then we shall not be here in an hour’s time!”

“In an hour?”

“Did I not ask you to bring me where I could get a sea-horizon?”

“Of course you did, dear child.”

“Will you have the kindness to show me where it is?”

The brothers looked round and round in dismay.

Before them, neither to the south-west nor the northeast was there a single interval between the islands, where a line between the sea and sky was at all visible; Seil, Kerera, and Kismore formed a continuous barrier the whole distance, and they were obliged to confess that the horizon desired and promised was not to be found at Oban.

The brothers had not given it a thought, and as they walked along the beach, they made use of characteristic expressions inferring disappointment and ill-humour.

“Pooh!” said the one.

“Pshaw!” muttered the other.

CHAPTER VIII
A CLOUD ON THE HORIZON

An explanation had become necessary; but as Aristobulus would have been none the wiser for it, Miss Campbell bowed stiffly to him, and went back to the hotel.

Aristobulus returned the young lady’s bow just as frigidly; he was evidently annoyed at being made subservient to a ray, of whatever colour it might be, and he took his way home along the shore muttering to himself.

The brothers felt very ill-at-ease, and when they were back in their private sitting-room, they waited for Miss Campbell’s explanation.

This was simple enough; they had come to Oban on purpose to get a sea-horizon, and there was not one to be seen, or so little that it was not worth mention.

The two uncles could but honestly argue that they did not know Oban! Who would ever have thought that they would not have the open sea here, since it was such a frequented bathing-place. It was perhaps the only point on the coast where, thanks to these tiresome islands, the sea-line was not visible!

“Ah I well,” said Miss Campbell, in a tone which she tried to make as stern as possible, “we must find out some other place than Oban, even if we have to sacrifice the advantage of Mr. Ursiclos’s company.”

The brothers looked down, and made no reply to this direct hint.

“We are going to pack up and leave here this very day,” said Helena.

“So be it!” replied both uncles, who now could only make amends for their folly by passive submission to her wishes.

And immediately Dame Bess was summoned.

The housekeeper came up, followed by Partridge; both were at once informed of the change, and knowing that their young mistress’s word was law, they did not dream of asking the reason of this hurried departure.

But they had reckoned without their host, Mr. MacFyne, the proprietor of the hotel.

They little knew the customs of these excellent institutions, even in hospitable Scotland, if they thought that they, a party of three gentry and two servants, would be allowed to depart without some effort being made to detain them, and this was what now happened.

When he had been informed of the reason of their departure, Mr. MacFyne declared that everything might be arranged to the general satisfaction, without saying anything of his own particular pleasure in being able to keep his distinguished guests.

What would please Miss Campbell, and consequently what did the gentlemen desire? A sea-view with a clear horizon? Nothing could be easier, since they only wanted to see this horizon at sunset. They could not see it from the shore of Oban? Very well! From Mull only a small part of the Atlantic towards the south-west could be seen. But a little way down the coast was the island of Seil, connected with the mainland by a bridge; there there was nothing to interrupt their view of the western sea.

Now it was only a four or five miles’ drive to the island, and when the weather was favourable, a carriage and pair of good horses would easily take Miss Campbell and her friends there in an hour or so.

In confirmation of this statement the glib hotel-keeper pointed out to them a large map hanging in the hall, so that Miss Campbell might not think he was trying to impose on her; and, indeed, facing the island of Seil was a large space comprising a third of that horizon over which the sun sets during the weeks preceding and following the equinox.

The matter was thus arranged to the extreme satisfaction of Mr. MacFyne, and to the perfect accommodation of the brothers. Miss Campbell generously granted them her pardon, and made no more disagreeable allusions to the presence of Aristobulus Ursiclos.

“But,” said Sam, “it really is strange that it should be precisely at Oban that one cannot get a sea-horizon.”

“Nature is so whimsical!” replied his brother.

Aristobulus was doubtless very glad to hear that Miss Campbell was not going elsewhere to make her meteorological observations; but he was so much absorbed in one of his abstruse problems, that he quite forgot to express his satisfaction.

The whimsical young lady did not seem to notice this delinquency, for whilst she was still utterly indifferent to him, her greeting was not quite so frigid when next they met.

Meanwhile, the state of the atmosphere had slightly improved; but though the weather remained fine, at sunrise and sunset the sky was generally flecked with clouds, so that it would only have been waste of time to go to Seil; they must exercise a little more patience.

During these long days Miss Campbell, leaving her uncles with the suitor of their choice, would wander along the sea-shore, sometimes accompanied by Dame Bess, but more often alone. She was glad to get away from the crowd of idle people one generally meets at bathing-places, whole families whose only occupation seems to be to sit on the beach and watch the tide come in and go out, whilst small boys and girls dig and roll about on the sands with a truly British freedom of attitude; grave phlegmatic gentlemen in their somewhat rudimentary bathing costumes, whose principal object in life seems to be to plunge up and down for ten minutes or so in the salt water; men and women of the highest respectability sitting motionless and stiff on the green benches, listlessly turning over the leaves of a book; tourists with telescopes slung over their shoulders; others with broad-brimmed hats, high gaiters, and umbrellas under their arms, who had arrived yesterday, and would leave again to-morrow; then in the midst of this crowd, sellers of all descriptions hawking their goods, electricians who for a few pence sell the fluid to any one who likes to pay for the fancy; itinerant piano-organists; photographers, in any number, printing off impromptu groups by the dozen; merchants in black overcoats; costermongers in broad-brimmed hats, pushing before them their little trucks, on which are displayed for sale the finest fruits in the world; negro minstrels with blackened faces, in various disguises, acting popular plays and singing comic songs, surrounded with a circle of children who gravely join in the choruses.

This sort of life at the sea-side had no charm for Miss Campbell; she preferred to get away as far as possible from the crowd, who seem as much strangers to each other as though they had come from the four quarters of the globe.

So, when her uncles, uneasy at her absence, wanted to find her, they had to search at the farther end of the beach, among the rocks overlooking the bay.

There Miss Campbell might be found, like Minna of “The Pirate,” leaning against a rock, her head resting on one hand, and with the other listlessly picking the seaweed growing here and there; her absent glance wandering from a “stack” whose rocky summit rose perpendicularly, to some obscure cavern, one of those “helyers,” as they call them in Scotland, echoing with the roaring of the sea.

In the distance might be seen rows of cormorants, sitting motionless like sacred birds, which she liked to watch when disturbed from their tranquillity they flew off, skimming the crests of the waves with their wings.

Of whom was the young girl thinking? Aristobulus Ursiclos undoubtedly would have had the conceit, and her uncles the simplicity to imagine that she was thinking of him, wherein they would have been much mistaken.

In her musings Miss Campbell’s thoughts would wander back to the scene in the Coryvrechan. Again she saw the boat in peril, and the Glengary venturing to its assistance through the straits; again she experienced that keen emotion which had thrilled her when the boat with its two occupants had disappeared behind the breakers! Then there came the rescue, the rope thrown at the opportune moment, the graceful young man appearing on deck, calm and smiling, less moved than herself, and bowing with a dignified air to the passengers.

To an imaginative young girl here was matter for romance, but it seemed that the romance would be concluded in this first chapter; the book had been abruptly closed in Miss Campbell’s hands, and at what page might she ever open it again, since her “hero,” like some Woden of the Gaelic epoch, had never reappeared.

But had she ever looked out for him among the heedless crowds on the sea-shore? Perhaps. Had she met him? No; he would never have recognized her. Why should he have noticed her on board the Glengary? Why should he have come to her? How could he have guessed that it was to her he owed his safety? And yet it was she before any one else who had noticed the boat in danger; she who had been the first to entreat the captain to go to his rescue! And, in fact, it was owing to him that she had perhaps that evening lost the sight of the Green Ray; it was to be feared so at least.

During the three days following the arrival of the Melville family at Oban, the sky would have driven any astronomer to despair. It was covered with a kind of haze, more deceiving than clouds would have been; the most powerful glass or telescope, or even the reflector at Cambridge or Parsonstown, would have been incapable of piercing it. The sun alone was sufficiently powerful to penetrate it with its rays; but at sunset the sea-horizon was embanked with light mists, which were dyed with the most brilliant hues, so that it would have been impossible for the Green Ray to reach the eyes of an observer.

Carried away by a somewhat fanciful imagination, Miss Campbell, in her reverie, confused the hero of the Gulf of Coryvrechan and the Green Ray. Certain it was that neither one nor the other appeared, and if mists obscured one, incognito concealed the other.

The brothers Melville were ill-advised when they besought their niece to have patience.