And yet we did not look any older in each other"s eyes, only just a little more serious. Yes, that was it--_serious_. Even Dugald, who was usually the most light-hearted and merry of the three of us, looked as if he fully appreciated the magnitude of what we had undertaken.
Here we were, three--well, young men say, though some would have called us boys--landed on a foreign sh.o.r.e, without an iota of experience, without much knowledge of the country apart from that we had gleaned from books or gathered from the conversations of Bombazo and Moncrieff. And yet we had landed with the intention, nay, even the determination, to make our way in the new land--not only to seek our fortunes, but to find them.
Oh, we were not afraid! We had the glorious inheritance of courage, perseverance, and self-reliance. Here is how Donald, my brother, argued one night:
"Look, here, Murdo," he said. "This _is_ a land of milk and honey, isn"t it? Well, we"re going to be the busy bees to gather it. It _is_ a silver land, isn"t it? Well, we"re the boys to tap it. Fortunes _are_ made here, and _have_ been made. What is done once can be done five hundred times.
Whatever men dare they can do. _Quod erat demonstrandum._"
"_Et nil desperandum_," added Dugald.
"I"m not joking, I can tell you, Dugald, I"m serious now, and I mean to remain so, and stick to work--aren"t you, Murdo?"
"I am, Donald."
Then we three brothers, standing there, one might say, on the confines of an unknown country, with all the world before us, shook hands, and our looks, as we gazed into each other"s eyes, said--if they said anything--"We"ll do the right thing one by the other, come weal, come woe."
Aunt entered soon after.
"What are you boys so serious about?" she said, laughing merrily, as she seated herself on the couch. "You look like three conspirators."
"So we are, aunt. We"re conspiring together to make our fortunes."
"What! building castles in the air?"
"Oh, no, no, _no_," cried Donald, "not in the air, but on the earth. And our idols are not going to have feet of clay, I a.s.sure you, auntie, but of solid silver."
"Well, we shall hope for the best. I have just parted with Mr. Moncrieff, whom I met down town. We have had a long walk together and quite a nice chat. He has made me his confidant--think of that!"
"What! you, auntie?"
"Yes, me. Who else? And that sober, honest, decent, Scot is going to take a wife. It was so good of him to tell _me_. We are all going to the wedding next week, and I"m sure I wish the dear man every happiness and joy."
"So do we, aunt."
"And oh, by the way, he is coming to dine here to-night, and I feel sure he wants to give you good advice, and that means me too, of course."
"Of course, auntie, you"re one of us."
Moncrieff arrived in good time, and brought his mother with him.
"Ye didn"t include my mither in the invitation, Miss M"Crimman," said the Scot; "but I knew you meant her to come. I"ve been so long without the poor old creature, that I hardly care to move about without her now."
"Poor old creature, indeed!" Mrs. Moncrieff was heard to mumble. "Where,"
she said to a nattily dressed waiter, "will you put my umbrella?"
"I"ll take the greatest care of it, madam," the man replied.
"Do, then," said the little old dame, "and I may gi"e ye a penny, though I dinna mak" ony promises, mind."
A nicer little dinner was never served, nor could a snugger room for such a _tete-a-tete_ meal be easily imagined. It was on the ground floor, the great cas.e.m.e.nt windows opening on to a verandah in a shady garden, where gra.s.s was kept green and smooth as velvet, where rare ferns grew in luxurious freedom with dwarf palms and drooping bananas, and where stephanotis and the charming lilac bougainvillea were still in bloom.
When the dessert was finished, and old Jenny was quite tired talking, it seemed so natural that she should curl up in an easy-chair and go off to sleep.
"I hope my umbrella"s safe, laddie," were her last words as her son wrapped her in his plaid.
"As safe as the Union Bank," he replied.
So we left her there, for the waiter had taken coffee into the verandah.
Aunt, somewhat to our astonishment, ordered cigars, and explained to Moncrieff that she did not object to smoking, but _did_ like to see men happy.
Moncrieff smiled.
"You"re a marvel as well as my mither," he said.
He smoked on in silence for fully five minutes, but he often took the cigar from his mouth and looked at it thoughtfully; then he would allow his eyes to follow the curling smoke, watching it with a smile on his face as it faded into invisibility, as they say ghosts do.
"Mr. Moncrieff," said aunt, archly, "I know what you are thinking about."
Moncrieff waved his hand through a wreath of smoke as if to clear his sight.
"If you were a man," he answered, "I"d offer to bet you couldn"t guess my thoughts. I was not thinking about my Dulcinea, nor even about my mither; I was thinking about you and your britheries--I mean your nephews."
"You are very kind, Mr. Moncrieff."
"I"m a man of the wo_rrr_ld, though I wasn"t aye a man of the wo_rrr_ld. I had to pay deep and dear for my experience, Miss M"Crimman."
"I can easily believe that; but you have benefited by it."
"Doubtless, doubtless; only it was concerning yourselves I was about to make an observation or two."
"Oh, thanks, do. You are so kind."
"Never a bit. This is a weary wo_rrr_ld at best. Where would any of us land if the one didn"t help the other? Well then, there you sit, and woman of the wo_rrr_ld though you be, you"re in a strange corner of it. You"re in a foreign land now if ever you were. You have few friends. Bah! what are all your letters of introduction worth? What do they bring you in? A few invitations to dinner, or to spend a week up country by a wealthy _estanciero_, advice from this friend and the next friend, and from a dozen friends maybe, but all different. You are already getting puzzled.
You don"t know what to do for the best. You"re stopping here to look about you, as the saying is. You might well ask me what right have I to advise you. The right of brotherhood, I may answer. By birth and station you may be far above me, but--you are friends--you are from dear auld Scotland.
Boys, you are my brothers!"
"And I your sister!" Aunt extended her hand as she spoke, and the worthy fellow "coralled" it, so to speak, in his big brown fist, and tears sprang to his eyes.
He pulled himself up sharp, however, and surrounded himself with smoke, as the cuttle-fish does with black water, and probably for the same reason--to escape observation.
"Now," he said, "this is no time for sentiment; it is no land for sentiment, but for hard work. Well, what are you going to do? Simply to say you"re going to make your fortune is all fiddlesticks and folly. How are you going to begin?"
"We were thinking--" I began, but paused.
"_I_ was thinking--" said my aunt; then she paused also.
Moncrieff laughed, but not unmannerly.