The Mystery of Cloomber | Page 7

soon found, too, that the factor's words as to the inclosing of the
grounds were founded upon fact, for gangs of workmen were kept hard
at work from early in the morning until late at night in erecting a high,
wooden fence round the whole estate.
When this was finished and topped with spikes, Cloomber Park became
impregnable to any one but an exceptionally daring climber. It was as if
the old soldier had been so imbued with military ideas that, like my
Uncle Toby, he could not refrain even in times of peace from standing
upon the defensive.
Stranger still, he had victualled the house as if for a siege, for Begbie,
the chief grocer of Wigtown, told me himself in a rapture of delight and
amazement that the general had sent him an order for hundreds of
dozens of every imaginable potted meat and vegetable.
It may be imagined that all these unusual incidents were not allowed to
pass without malicious comment. Over the whole countryside and as
far away as the English border there was nothing but gossip about the
new tenants of Cloomber Hall and the reasons which had led them to
come among us.
The only hypothesis, however, which the bucolic mind could evolve,
was that which had already occurred to Mr. McNeil, the factor--namely,
that the old general and his family were one and all afflicted with
madness, or, as an alternative conclusion, that he had committed some
heinous offence and was endeavouring to escape the consequences of
his misdeeds.
These were both natural suppositions under the circumstances, but
neither of them appeared to me to commend itself as a true explanation
of the facts.
It is true that General Heatherstone's behaviour on the occasion of our

first interview was such as to suggest some suspicion of mental disease,
but no man could have been more reasonable or more courteous than he
had afterwards shown himself to be.
Then, again, his wife and children led the same secluded life that he did
himself, so that the reason could not be one peculiar to his own health.
As to the possibility of his being a fugitive from justice, that theory was
even more untenable. Wigtownshire was bleak and lonely, but it was
not such an obscure corner of the world that a well-known soldier could
hope to conceal himself there, nor would a man who feared publicity
set every one's tongue wagging as the general had done.
On the whole, I was inclined to believe that the true solution of the
enigma lay in his own allusion to the love of quiet, and that they had
taken shelter here with an almost morbid craving for solitude and
repose. We very soon had an instance of the great lengths to which this
desire for isolation would carry them.
My father had come down one morning with the weight of a great
determination upon his brow.
"You must put on your pink frock to-day, Esther," said he, "and you,
John, you must make yourself smart, for I have determined that the
three of us shall drive round this afternoon and pay our respects to Mrs.
Heatherstone and the general."
"A visit to Cloomber," cried Esther, clapping her hands.
"I am here," said my father, with dignity, "not only as the laird's factor,
but also as his kinsman. In that capacity I am convinced that he would
wish me to call upon these newcomers and offer them any politeness
which is in our power. At present they must feel lonely and friendless.
What says the great Firdousi? 'The choicest ornaments to a man's house
are his friends.'"
My sister and I knew by experience that when the old man began to
justify his resolution by quotations from the Persian poets there was no

chance of shaking it. Sure enough that afternoon saw the phaeton at the
door, with my father perched upon the seat, with his second-best coat
on and a pair of new driving-gloves.
"Jump in, my dears," he cried, cracking his whip briskly, "we shall
show the general that he has no cause to be ashamed of his
neighbours."
Alas! pride always goes before a fall. Our well-fed ponies and shining
harness were not destined that day to impress the tenants of Cloomber
with a sense of our importance.
We had reached the avenue gate, and I was about to get out and open it,
when our attention was arrested by a very large wooden placard, which
was attached to one of the trees in such a manner that no one could
possibly pass without seeing it. On the white surface of this board was
printed in big, black letters the following hospitable inscription:
GENERAL AND MRS. HEATHERSTONE HAVE NO WISH TO
INCREASE THE CIRCLE OF THEIR ACQUAINTANCE.