William Black. White Wings: A Yachting Romance, Volume II
CHAPTER I. VILLANY ABROAD
CHAPTER II. AN ULTIMATUM
CHAPTER III. THE NEW SUITOR
CHAPTER IV. CHASING A THUNDERSTORM
CHAPTER V. CHASING SEALS
CHAPTER VI "UNCERTAIN, COY, AND HARD TO PLEASE."
CHAPTER VII. SECRET SCHEMES
CHAPTER VIII. BEFORE BREAKFAST
CHAPTER IX. A PROTECTOR
CHAPTER X "MARY, MARY!"
CHAPTER XI. AN UNSPOKEN APPEAL
CHAPTER XII. HIS LORDSHIP
CHAPTER XIII. THE LAIRD'S PLANS
CHAPTER XIV. A SUNDAY IN FAR SOLITUDES
CHAPTER XV. HIDDEN SPRINGS
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When our good friend the Laird of Denny-mains came back from the post-office, he seemed quite beside himself with wrath. And yet his rage was not of the furious and loquacious sort; it was reticent, and deep, and dangerous. He kept pacing up and down the gravel-path in front of the house, while as yet dinner was not ready. Occasionally he would rub his hands vehemently, as if to get rid of some sort of electricity; and once or twice we heard him ejaculate to himself, "The scoondrel! The scoondrel!" It was in vain that our gentle Queen Titania, always anxious to think the best of everybody, broke in on these fierce meditations, and asked the Laird to suspend his judgment. How could he be sure, she asked, that Frederick Smethurst had really run away with his niece's little property? He had come to her and represented that he was in serious difficulties; that this temporary loan of seven thousand pounds or so would save him; that he would repay her directly certain remittances came to him from abroad. How could he, the Laird, know that Frederick Smethurst did not mean to keep his promise?
But Denny-mains would have none of these possibilities. He saw the whole story clearly. He had telegraphed for confirmation; but already he was convinced. As for Frederick Smethurst being a swindler – that did not concern him, he said. As for the creditors, that was their own look-out: men in business had to take their chance. But that this miscreant, this ruffian, this mean hound should have robbed his own niece of her last farthing – and left her absolutely without resources or protection of any kind in the world – this it was that made the Laird's eyes burn with a dark fire. "The scoondrel! – the scoondrel!" he said; and he rubbed his hands as though he would wrench the fingers off.
.....
"Catch him?" said he with a laugh. "They'll never catch him."
