The Green Ray Read Online

Miss Campbell did not trouble herself to make them responsible for these atmospheric disturbances. Thus they only had recourse to the excellent barometer which they had taken care to bring with them from Helensburgh, and which steadily refused to rise. In truth, they would have given their snuff-box to obtain a cloudless sunset!

As for the savant Ursiclos, one day, in speaking of these mists, he had the ill address to pronounce their formation quite natural, and this led to a short physical lecture, which he made in Miss Campbell’s presence. He spoke of clouds in general, of their downward motion which brought them to the horizon with a falling temperature, of mists reduced to a vesiculous state, of their scientific classing into nimbus, stratus, cumulus, cirrus! Needless to say he was not thanked for his display of wisdom. And this was so marked that the brothers did not know what attitude to assume during the inopportune discourse.

Yes, Miss Campbell pointedly “cut” the young savant; first of all she pretended to look in quite an opposite direction, so as not to hear him; then she kept her eyes persistently on Dunolly Castle, and appeared quite oblivious of his presence. Finally, she studiously examined her dainty sand-shoes, the most marked form of undisguised indifference, and the greatest proof of contempt the young Scotchwoman could have shown, and which was intended as much for the speaker as for his lecture.

Aristobulus, who was so entirely absorbed in his own self-importance and never spoke but for his own gratification, either did not or did not appear to notice this treatment.

Thus passed the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th of August; but during that last day, to the brothers’ great delight, the barometer rose some degrees above change.

The following day dawned fair and cloudless. At ten o’clock the sun was shining brilliantly, and the sky was of a pure, limpid azure.

Miss Campbell could not let this opportunity escape. A carriage belonging to the hotel, always kept at her disposal, was ordered; now, if ever, was the time to make use of it; so at five o’clock in the afternoon, she and her uncles took their places in this carriage and four, driven by a skilful “whip,” Partridge sitting in the rumble, and thus they started off on the road to Clachan.

Aristobulus Ursiclos, to his great regret—if not to Miss Campbell’s—being deeply engaged in some important scientific pursuit, was unable to make one of the party.

The drive was charming from every point of view; the carriage took the road along the sea-shore, the whole length of the strait which separates the isle of Kerera from the mainland. This island, of volcanic origin, is most picturesque; but it had one drawback in Miss Campbell’s eyes, namely, that it obstructed her view of the sea-horizon; however, as this would only last for about four miles and a half, she condescended to admire its harmonious outline, clearly defined against the sky, with the ruins of the Danish castle crowning its southern heights.

“That was formerly the abode of the MacDouglasses of Lorn—” remarked Sam.

“And has a peculiar interest to our family,” added Sib; “since it was destroyed by the Campbells, who laid it in ruins, after having remorselessly massacred all its inhabitants!”

This fact seemed to win the particular approbation of Partridge, who quietly rubbed his hands in honour of the clan.

When they had passed the island of Kerera, the carriage took a narrow and slightly hilly road to the village of Clachan; from there they crossed the artificial isthmus, which, under the form of a bridge, spans the strait and unites the island of Seil with the mainland. Half an hour later, leaving the carriage at the foot of a ravine, the excursionists climbed the steep slopes of a hill, and seated themselves on the edge of the rocks overlooking the sea.

This time nothing could possibly obstruct the view of the western horizon; neither the isle of Easdale, nor that of Inish lying near Seil. Between the point of Ardalanish on the isle of Mull, one of the largest of the Hebrides to the north-east, and the island of Colonsay to the south-west, was a wide expanse of ocean, which would ere long be flooded with the crimson hues of sunset.

Miss Campbell, filled with her one absorbing thought, stood a little in front of the others; a few birds of prey eagles and hawks, alone enlivened the stillness of the scene, hovering over their nests among the rocks.

Astronomically, at this time of year, and in these latitudes, the sun should set at ten minutes to eight o’clock, exactly in the direction of the point of Ardalanish. But a few weeks later it would be impossible to see it, as it would then set behind the island of Colonsay.

This evening, then, was well chosen, in point of time and place, for the observation of the phenomenon.

At this moment the sun was casting its rays obliquely on the cloudless horizon, and their eyes were scarcely able to bear the dazzling glare of its fiery disk, which the water reflected in a long train of light. Nevertheless, neither Miss Campbell nor her uncles would have consented to close their eyes—no! not even for a second.

But before the surface of the sun had touched the horizon, Miss Campbell uttered a cry of dismay!

A small cloud, slight as an arrow, and long as the flag of a man-of-war, had just appeared, and, floating across the solar disk, divided it into two unequal parts, and appeared to be sinking with it to the level of the sea.

It seemed as though the slightest breath of air would have been sufficient to drive it away! But no such breeze was forthcoming! And when the sun was reduced to a small arc, this light mist entirely circumscribed it. The Green Ray, lost in this little cloud, was hidden from the eyes of the intent observers.

CHAPTER IX
DAME BESS’S TALK

The drive back was made in silence; Miss Campbell spoke not a word, and her uncles dared not interrupt her reverie. And yet it was not their fault if the unlucky cloud had appeared just in time to obscure the sun’s last ray. After all, there was no need to despair; the fine weather must last for another six weeks, and if during the autumn they were not able to get one fine evening with a cloudless horizon, fortune was indeed against them.

However, it had been a splendid evening lost, and the barometer did not seem able to promise such another—for some time at least. Indeed, during the night the capricious index of the aneroid fell slightly back towards change; but though it was still fine weather for other people, it did not satisfy Miss Campbell.

The following day, the 8th of August, the sun was veiled in light mists, and the midday breeze was not strong enough to dissipate them. Towards evening the sky was resplendent with brilliant hues; every shade of colour, from chrome-yellow to a sombre ultramarine, dyed the western horizon. Through the veil of fleecy cloud the sunset tinted the background of the coast with every phantom ray, save that which Miss Campbell desired so much to see.

And the two following days were the same, so that the carriage remained unused in the coach-house of the hotel, for what was the use of going to make an observation, which the state of the weather rendered impossible? The heights of Seil could be no more favoured than the shores of Oban, and it was better not to incur another disappointment.

Without being more vexed than could be expected, Miss Campbell contented herself by going in the evening to her room, pouting at this unobliging sun; and as she rested after her long walks, she would indulge in day-dreams. Of what? Of that legend attached to the Green Ray? Must she indeed see it in order to look clearly into her own heart? Into her own? perhaps not; but into that of others!

One day, accompanied by Dame Bess, Helena had carried her discomfiture to Dunolly Castle. From this place, at the foot of an old wall overgrown with ivy, nothing could be more lovely than the panorama formed by the Bay of Oban, the rugged aspect of Kerera, the isles dotted here and there in the western sea, and the great island of Mull, upon whose rocky western coast the storms of the Atlantic first vent their fury.

And from here Miss Campbell would gaze upon the magnificent scene spread out before her eyes; but did she see it? Did not some memory persistently distract her attention? In any case it certainly was not the image of Aristobulus Ursiclos. In truth, the young pedant would hardly have been gratified could he have heard the opinions of himself which Dame Bess so frankly expressed that afternoon.

“I don’t like him! No, I do not like him! He only thinks of himself! What sort of a figure would he cut at Helensburgh? He belongs to the clan of ‘MacEgotists,’ or I am very much mistaken. How could my masters have ever thought of making him their nephew! Partridge dislikes him as much as I do, and Partridge is no fool! Now, come, miss, do you like him?”

“Of whom are you speaking?” asked the young girl, who had heard nothing of Dame Bess’s previous speech.

“Of one whom you could never think of—were it only for the honour of the clan!”

“And who, then, is it that I may not think of?”

“Why, to be sure, this Mr. Aristobulus, who had much better go and seek his fortune the other side of the Tweed, as if a Campbell ever need run after an Ursiclos!”

Dame Bess was not in the habit of mincing her words, but her feelings must have been highly wrought for her to oppose her masters’ wishes, even for the sake of her young mistress. Besides, she felt sure that Helena was more than indifferent to this suitor. But she could hardly have guessed that this indifference was increased by a warmer feeling which her young mistress now experienced for another. Perhaps Dame Bess had a suspicion of the fact, when Miss Campbell asked her whether she had ever seen at Oban the young man whom the Glengary had so fortunately been able to rescue.

“No, miss,” replied Dame Bess, “he must have left immediately; but Partridge thought he saw him—”

“When was that?”

“Yesterday, on the road to Dalmally. He was returning with a knapsack upon his back, like a travelling artist. Ah! that young man was very imprudent! His having allowed himself to be drawn into the Gulf of Coryvrechan speaks ill for his future. He will not always find a boat ready to come to his assistance, and one fine day he will come to grief.”

“Do you think so, Bess? If he had been imprudent, he at least showed himself to be courageous, and in the midst of his peril his self-possession never appeared to leave him for a moment.”

“That’s very likely, miss,” continued Dame Bess; “but surely the young man did not know that it was to you that he owed his rescue, or the day after our arrival at Oban he would at least have come and thanked you.”

“Thanked me?” repeated Miss Campbell.