‘How long have you been on Tannasgan, Mrs Corrie?’ asked Dame Beatrice.
‘How long? Oh, a matter of less than two years. We came here last September twelvemonth.’
‘So you’ve spent two winters on Tannasgan.’
‘We have that.’
‘And you were on your own here for about three weeks last winter?’
‘We were. The laird was awa’ to Garadh, where they keep the gardens open to the public some days during the summer.’
‘Did you like it better while he was away?’
‘Wha wouldna like it better? We were our own masters.’
‘Yes, of course. What were your dealings with Mr Bradan’s son?’
‘That one? His father had turned him frae the door lang syne.’
‘Before you came to work here, you mean?’
‘No, no, but not so verra much later. He couldna thole him. He was a natural son, so we heard.’
‘Indeed?’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘Who, then, is said to be his mother?’
But Mrs Corrie was not prepared to answer this question. She muttered that she did not know. Laura made a guess which was destined never to be confirmed or denied.
‘I suppose it was the Mrs Grant who lives at Coinneamh,’ she said. Mrs Corrie handed her the dish of scones. It might have been an ironic or it might have been a pacific gesture. Conscious that no response to her remark was to be forthcoming, Laura took a scone.
‘So,’ said Dame Beatrice, taking the conversation along her own line again after this brief digression, ‘you cannot have been surprised that this natural son was disinherited.’
‘There would hae been no surprise, for we heard he played fause with his father,’ said Mrs Corrie.
‘Oh? In what way?’
‘He took up what he hadna laid down.’
‘So, after that, the laird hid it, whatever it was.’
‘Naebody kens.’
‘Why have you yourself never been on the wooded island of Haugr? Did you never wish to see the models of the fabulous beasts? Did you never wish to see the maze?’
Mrs Corrie shook her head.
‘Gin ever I cross the water,’ she said, ‘I’ll be awa’ to Glasgow where there’s shops and parks. Sauchiehall Street! Trongate! Argyle Street! Kelvingrove!’
‘I thought you came from Kirkintilloch,’ said Laura.
‘I do, so, but Glasgow is where I would choose to be. As for the wee inch of Haugr, I wouldna set foot on it for ony siller ye could offer.’ Asked why, she shook her head and passed her cup for more tea.
Chapter 21
Treasure Island
‘
« ^ »
LAURA had elected to sleep in the room which had been apportioned to her the first time she had visited An Tigh Mor. She woke at dawn, stared around her for a minute or two, then got up and decided to swim in the loch.
The water was cold, but not unbearably so. She enjoyed her bathe and was on the point of swimming back to the boathouse from which, having no idea of the depth of the water for diving, she had elected to push off, when it occurred to her that she had a priceless opportunity to land on the islet of Haugr and explore it on her own.
It was easy enough to get ashore. The water lapping the island was shallow and the mud was not treacherous. She waded on to the bank and was aware, immediately, that shoes would have been an asset. However, Laura was not deterred by disadvantages. She took the path which she and Dame Beatrice had followed on the only occasion when they had visited Haugr, and soon found herself among the fabulous animals.
Here there was no doubt about the destruction which had been done. The bronze basilisk had been uprooted and all that was left of him was a collection of sections of metal, one of them surmounted by his crowned serpentine head.
