Lord Sandilands

“ It was fortunate that Miles was just then so much engrossed with his love, so full of the hope of the success of his suit, so relieved and encouraged by discovering that Lord Sandilands did not attempt to dissuade him from a project in which he had felt very doubtful whether he should have the support of a man of the world--and though nothing would have induced him to abandon that project, Lord Sandilands' acquiescence made a wonderful difference to him in the present, and would, he felt, be of weighty importance in the future,--that he was not keenly observant of the old nobleman. ”

“ It is not for an instant to be supposed that any of this unlicensed band were allowed to work their will on the person of Lord Sandilands. The old gentleman was far too careful of his health to quit the immediate precincts of his private physician without being relegated to someone to whom that physician had knowledge, and in whom he had trust. Sir Charles Dumfunk, of Harley-street, habitually attended Lord Sandilands, and was liked by his lordship as a friend as well as esteemed as a physician. ”

“ Lady Sandis [Sandys] , who seems so fond of race meetings and other less harmless amusements, was the wife of William Lord Sandys, and daughter of the Earl of Salisbury. Lord Sandys' country house was Motesfont or Mottisfont Priory, in Hampshire, "which the King had given him in exchange for Chelsea, in Westminster." ”

“ One day Sandy went to New Harbor City to buy leather for cobbling, and there his devil, for no apparent reason at all, leaped upon him and flung him. For a week he saw or knew nothing but a whirling vision of [Pg 82] the world seen through rum-crazy eyes; then at last he awoke to find himself hatless, coatless, filthy, unshaved, blear-eyed, palsied. Not a cent of money was left, and so that day and night, in spite of the deadly nausea that beset him and the trembling weakness that hung like a leaden weight upon every limb, he walked all the thirty-eight miles home again to East Haven. ”

“ Sandys distinguished himself at Oxford, and was in consequence elected a Fellow of All Souls. He travelled through the south of Europe with Mr. Francis Basset, afterwards Lord de Dunstanville, and held the living of Illogan till Mr. John Basset, a younger brother, received priest’s orders. He married Miss Mary Praed, of Trevethow; and dying in 1816, he left the larger part of a handsome fortune to Mr. William Warren, a sister’s son, who married Miss Marshall, another sister’s daughter, and their son having taken the name of Sandys, is now the possessor, and resides at St. Minver. ”

“ Tom laughed until he cried at the comical idea which Sandy's plaint always brought up, of half-a-dozen negro preachers sitting in solemn judgment upon that cakewalk,--it had certainly been a good cakewalk!--and sending poor Sandy to spiritual Coventry.
"Cheer up, Sandy, cheer up!" he would say when Sandy seemed most depressed. "Go into my room and get yourself a good drink of liquor. The devil's church has a bigger congregation than theirs, and we have the consolation of knowing that when we die, we'll meet all our friends on the other side. ”

“ Miss Mary. So! Sandy conceals another name, which he withholds from Red Gulch. Well! Pshaw! What is that to me? The camp is made up of refugees,—men who perhaps have good reason to hide a name that may be infamous, the name that would publish a crime. Nonsense! Crime and Sandy! No, shame and guilt do not hide themselves in those honest but occasionally somewhat bloodshot eyes. Besides, goodness knows! the poor fellow's weakness is palpable enough. No, that is not the reason. It is no guilt that keeps his name hidden,—at least, not his. (Seating herself, and arranging flowers in her lap.) ”

“ This Sandy never blustered or asserted himself at all. He was born above most men of his class, and he stood at their head boldly without knowing it. Had he been born an Indian he would have been a chief, would have led in battle, and dictated in council, without question or without opposition from any one. Had he been born in the old time of kings he would have put out his hand, taken a crown, and worn it as a man wears the most fitting garment, by instinct. ”

“ Exit HOP SING, pushed off by CONCHO.
Concho. The pagan dolt! But he is important. Ah, if he were wiser, I should not rid myself of him so quickly! And now for the schoolmistress,—the sweetheart of Sandy. If these men have not lied, he is in love with her; and, if he is, he has told her his secret before now; and she will be swift to urge him to his rights. If he has not told her—umph! (laughing) it will not be a DAY—an HOUR—before she will find out if her lover is Alexander Morton, the rich man's son, or "Sandy," the unknown vagabond. Eh, friend Sandy! ”

“ Lord! Oh! Lord! whatever will become of me?” whimpered Sandy. “He’ll beat me to a jelly when he comes to himself.”
“Look you here, Sandy,” said Gabriel, hastily putting on his doublet and cloak. “No one shall harm you if you will but help us to escape. We will take you with us, and you shall never clap eyes on Aaron again. Come, let us down the steps, there’s a good fellow.”
He put his hand on the lad’s shoulder kindly, and Sandy, like a dog that has been caressed by his master, was ready to dare anything in his service. ”

“ She is going—she, Mary, my cousin—she is going to my father. He has been seeking me—has found—ah! (Groans.) No, no, Sandy! Be patient, be calm: you are not crazy—no, no, good Sandy, good old boy! Be patient, be patient: it is coming, it is coming. Yes, I see: some one has leaped into my place; some one has leaped into the old man's arms. Some one will creep into HER heart! No! by God! No! I am Alexander Morton. Yes, yes! But how, how shall I prove it?—how? Who (CONCHO steps cautiously forward towards SANDY unobserved) will believe the vagabond, the outcast—my God!—the crazy drunkard? ”

“ Miss Mary. Certainly: compose yourself,—my cousin's son, Alexander Morton. Listen, Sandy, you promised ME, you know, you said for MY sake you would not touch a drop. (Enter cautiously toward schoolhouse the DUCHESS, stops on observing SANDY, and hides behind rock.)
Sandy (still bewildered and incoherent) . I reckon. Harkin, miss, is that thar thing (pointing towards rock where DUCHESS is concealed) —is that a tree, or—or—a woman? Is it sorter movin' this way?
Miss Mary (laying her hand on SANDY'S) . Recover your senses, for Heaven's sake, Sandy,—for MY sake! It is only a tree. ”

“ Sandy rode the mare into the livery where the last skirmish between hoof and rim, iron and rubber tire was being fought, and called for "Chuck" Goodwin.
A stout man came out, not so heavy, not so big as Mormon, but sheathed in flesh with the armor of ease and good living. He peered up at Sandy, then let out a shout.
"You long-legged, ornery, freckle-faced, gun-packin' galoot, Sandy Bourke! Light off'n that cayuse, you an' yore lady friend. Where in time did you-all drop from?"
"Come across the mesa. Like to git washed across through Paso Cabras," said Sandy. ”

“ I kent the kilt whenever I saw't; it was the ane Dauvit Kenawee wears in the Oddfellas' processions. Sandy was berfit, an', I'm shure, if ye'd seen him! Haud your tongue! Ye never saw sic a picture. I suppose he'd taen aff his buits no' to mak' a noise.
Ay weel, here he was wi' a bawbee can'le stuck up again' the boddom o' the lookin'-gless, an' him maleengerin' aboot i' the flure afore't, wi' the shaft o' the heather bissam in his hand, whiskin't roond his lugs, progin' aboot wi't, an' lowpin' here an' there like a hen on a het girdle. ”

“ At last, however, when the damsel was departing, he plucked up courage to ask if he might try; and when she hesitated he said: "Fair damsel, worthiness and good deeds are not only in arrayment, but manhood and worship are hid within man's person." Then the poor knight took the sword by the girdle and sheath and drew it out easily.
And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no dinner, and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the steamer, and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck below. ”

“ Sandy got himsel' steadied up again, an' pulled doon his weyscot, syne gae his moo a dicht, an' buttoned his coat. I cud see fine that he was tryin' to keep up the English; but it wasna good enough. "I am no' a man o' learnin'," said Sandy. "I'm a wirkin' man, an' if I tak' up my heid wi' publik affairs, it's 'cause I've naething else ado, and it'll keep me oot o' langer. As oor respeckit chairman says, I'm no' like Ralph the Rover, sailin' awa' an' scoorin' the sea for mony a day. That looks like a pure weyst o' soap—juist like what goes on i' the Toon Cooncil daily-day. ”

“ Wha ever heard o' an empire gettin' hungrie?"
Sandy got back till his place, an' the match gaed on. "Over comin' up," said the ither empire forby Sandy; an' the laddie that was ballin' says, "Ay weel, than, I'm genna see an' get wid." He gae his arm an awfu' sweel roond, an' instead o' sendin' the ba' to the wickets, it gaed spung ower an' hut Sandy a yark i' the side o' the heid.
"There's wid," said the ither empire; "but it's no' a wicket for a' that." Sandy was springin' aboot wi' his heid in his oxter, an' a' the laddies roarin' and lauchin' like to kill themsel's. ”

“ Here Sandy took to the greetin', an' grat something fearfu'.
"Bliss me," says Dauvid Kenawee, "I never saw the like o' that. Is he ac'ually sleepin'?"
"As soond's a tap," says Bandy, an' he touched Sandy again an' stoppit the greetin'. "Noo, we'll see what like a job he wud mak' o' a speech at a ward meetin'," continued Bandy; an' he gae Sandy a slap on the shuder an' says, "Noo, Mester Bowden, we're at a ward meetin', an' you're stanin' for the Cooncil. There's Pottie Lawson in the chair, an' it's your turn to speak noo. Lat's hear ye gie them a gude screed on the topiks of the day." ”

“ Sandy replied, "when I can see my sights, I'll clean the whole bunch out."
"Other people can see sights then. Kid, they got me rounded up. I ain't no good except on a horse. If I could make a get-away I would. But I can't. You can. There's no sense in both of us bein' wiped out. Also, there's your folks. ”

“ A' the chaps were clappin' Sandy on the shuder; an' ane o' them says—"Ay, man; it's no mony fowk that tak's their lum hat an' their umberell to their bed wi' them."
But the auld skipper was the king amon' them a'. Hoo he raggit Sandy aboot bein' a somnambulashinist or something.
"When you want to steal a denner bell," he said to Sandy, "carry't by the tongue, man. It's safer that wey. Bells an' weemin are awfu' beggars when their tongues get lowse."
The captain was rale taen wi' Sandy, an', mind you, he hired a cab an' drave Sandy an' me a' roond the toon. ”

“ I was tellin' ye aboot Sandy's caper oot the Sands, when Bandy an' Pottie Lawson made sic a fule o' him. We'd never seen hint nor hair o' them here sin' syne; an' I'm shure they're a gude reddance. But wha shud turn up i' the washin'-hoose the ither nicht but Pottie! He'd gotten Dauvid Kenawee to speak to Sandy, an' gotten the thing sowdered up some wey or ither, an' there he was again, as brisk as a bee. But Sandy wasna that easy pacifeed. He didna say muckle, but I'll swag he gey Pottie a neg on Teysday nicht that he'll no forget in a hurry—nether will Mistress Mollison. ”

“ But while they were wondering about his absence, Sandy reappeared. What a change! Arrayed in all the bravery of a Scottish chieftain, old Sandy stood before them, a picture indeed.
Over a kilt of tartan he wore the red coat and plaid, and on his head, crowning his white locks, sat a genuine Scotch “bonnet,” with an eagle feather black as night. In his hands he carried the bagpipes, and while the children stared, open-mouthed, Sandy commenced to play. ”

“ Haud your lang tongue," says Sandy. "Speak aboot things ye ken something aboot. Wait till the morn. Ye'll see I'll get roond my roonds an' a' my tatties delivered in half the time. I'll ha'e rid o' a' my tatties an' be hame gin ane o'clock, instead o' dotterin' awa' wi' a lazy brute like Donal'. I'll beat ye onything ye like, Gowans 'ill be ruin' his bargain gin this time; but he'll no' get him back noo. I'll go an' see an' get Princie stabled."
Sandy gaed inby to the shafts, but he sprang back when Princie ga'e a squeek an' garred his heels play tnack on the boddom o' the cairt. ”

“ In most cases, that means they will ignore even deliberate insults from non-Sandemans--but not in all cases. Touching one without permission will get at least a verbal rebuke; attacking one will in all probability result in the attacker's death. In Subsector Sandeman, the offender is at fault; elsewhere in the Empire, that is less automatic but still the presumption. To paraphrase then-Baron Klaes of Mjolnir, the first Imperial world to have Sandemans as guests and protectors instead of conquerors: These people are used to protecting themselves, rather than relying on police. ”

“ They all came and shook hands with us, and very kindly thanked us for our great love and kindness to their Ookemasis,—the young chief,—as they now laughingly called Sandy.
After remaining with us some years, Sandy returned to his own land and people. Among them he still lives a devoted, industrious Christian. He is the right-hand man of the missionary, a blessing and a benediction to many, and we count it as one of our “chief joys” that we were instrumental in leading him into the light. ”

“ I hit Sandy blether awa' for a whilie, an' syne I strikes in, "Ay, juist that, Sandy; but you'll mibby g'wa' an' get that tume saft soap barrel scraipit oot, an' the wechts gi'en a black lead; an' we'll hear aboot the Toon Cooncil efter your wark's dune."
"Oh, but I'll manish that, Bawbie," says he, gey snappish-like; "but still a man wi' brains in's heid canna juist be setisfeed wi' saft soap an' black lead a'thegither."
"Ow weel," says I, "you wud mibby fa' in wi' a fell lot o' baith o' them, even i' the Toon Cooncil. ”