Chapter 41
chapter forty one conclusion simon mactaggart went out possessed by the devils of hatred and chagrin he saw himself plainly for what he was in truth a pricked bladder his career come to an ignoble conclusion the single honest scheme he had ever set his heart on brought to naught and his vanity already wounded sorely at the prospect of a contemptuous world to be faced for the remainder of his days all this from the romantics of a frenchman who walked through life in the steppe of a polonaise and a short season ago was utterly unaware that such a man as simon mactaggart existed or that a woman named olivia bloomed a very flower among the wilds at whatever angle he viewed the congregated disasters of the past few weeks he saw count victor in their background a sardonic smiling light-hearted nemesis and if he detested him previously as a merely possible danger he hated him now with every fibre of his being as the cause of his upheaval
and then in this way that is not uncommon with the sinner he must pity himself because circumstances had so consistently conspired against him he had come into the garden after the interview with argyle had made it plain that the darkest passages in his servant's history were known to him and had taken off his hat to get the night breeze on his brow which was wet with perspiration the snow was still on the ground among the laden bushes the silent soaring trees of fir and ash it seemed as if this was no other than the land of outer darkness whereto the lost are driven at the end it maddened him to think of what he had been brought to he shook his fist in a childish and impotent petulance at the spacious unregarding east where doom lay the scene of all his passions god's curse on the breed of meddlers he said another month and i was out of these gutters and hell no more to tempt me to be the deuce good man and all the tales of storm forgotten by the neighbours that may have kept them to sit perhaps with barons her barons and mine
about my knee and never a twinge of the old damnable inclinations and the flagellate going in the honest tunes all lost all lost for a rat that takes to the hold of an infernal ship and comes here to chew at the ropes that dragged me to salvation this is where it ends it's the judgment come a day o'er soon for simma thaggart but simma thaggart will make the rat rue his meddling he had come out with no fixed idea of what he next should do but one step seemed now imperative he must go to doom otherwise his blood would burst every vein in his body he set forth with the stimulus of fury for the barracks where his men lay of whom half a dozen at least were his to the gate of the pit itself less scrupulous even than himself because more ignorant possessed of but one or two impulses a foolish affection for him and an inherited regard for rapine too rarely to be indulged in these tame latter days to call them out to find them armed and ready for any enterprise of his was a matter of brief time
they set out knowing nothing at all of his object and indifferent so long as this adorable gentleman was to lead them when they came to doom the tide was full and round about it so they retired upon the hillside sheltering in a little plantation of fir through which they could see the stars and doom dense black against them without a sign of habitation and yet doom upon the side that faced the sea was not asleep mungo was busy upon the preparations for departure performing them in a funereal spirit whimpering about the vacant rooms with a grief that was trivial compared with that of doom itself who waited for the dawn as if it were to bring him to the block or of olivia whose pillow was wet with unavailing tears it was their last night in doom at daybreak mungo was to convey them to the harbor where they should embark upon the vessel that was to bear them to the lowlands it seemed as if the sea-gulls came earlier than usual to wheel and cry about the rock half-guessing that it was so soon to be untenanted
and finally as it is to-day the grass-grown mound of memories olivia rose and went to her window to look out at them and saw them as yet but vague grey floating shapes slanting against the paling stars and then the household rose the boat nodded to the leeward of the rock with its mast stepped its sail billowing with a rustle in the faint air and mungo at the sheet the dawn came slowly but fast enough for the departing and the landward portion of the rock was still in shadow when olivia stepped forth with a tear-stained face and a trembling hand on victor's arm he shared her sorrow but was proud and happy too that her trials as he hoped were over they took their seat in the boat and waited for the baron now the tide was down the last of it running in tiny rivulets upon the sand between the mainland and the rock and simon and his gang came over silently simon led and turned the corner of the tower hastily with his sword in his hand to find the baron emerging he had not seen the boat and its occupants but the situation seemed to flash upon him and he uttered a cry of rage
doom drew back under the frowning eyebrow of what had been his home tugged the weapon from his scabbard and threw himself on guard this is kind indeed he said in a pause of his assailant's confusion at finding this was not the man he sought you have come to say good-bye on guard black dog on guard so dwidmar here then is for you cried sim and waving back his followers engaged with a rasp of steel it lasted but a moment doom crouched a little upon bending knees with a straight arm parrying the assault of a point that flew in wild disorder he broke ground for a few yards with feints in quart he followed on a riposte with a lunge short sharp conclusive for it took his victim in the chest and passed through at the other side with a thud of the hilt against his body sim fell with a groan his company clustering around him not wholly forgetful of retaliation but influenced by his hand that forbade their interference with his enemy
clean up your filth said doom in the gaelic sheathing his sword and turning to join his daughter he took dim darach from me and now by god he's welcome to doom not our old friends surely said count victor looking backward at the cluster of men the same said doom and kept his counsel further count victor put his arm round olivia's waist the boat's prow fell off the sail filled she ran with a pleasant ripple through the waves and there followed her a cry that only doom of all the company knew was a coronach followed by the music of sim m'taggart's flageolet it rose above the ripple of the waves above the screaming of the birds finally stilling the coronach and the air it gave an utterance to was the same that had often charmed the midnight bower failing at the last abruptly as it had always done before my heavens it is my mary's favourite heir and that was all she knew of it said doom
and his face grew white with memory and a speculation had he found the end of that heir said count victor he had found as he said himself another man but i perhaps had never found olivia End of chapter 41 End of Doom Castle by Neil Munro
