Sandy McGrab

“ Anthony in a wilderness of wickedness could not have felt more desolate than did Sandy McGrab in Regent Street.
He wandered on listlessly and objectlessly, until all at once the crowd seemed to thin. He found himself in a quiet thoroughfare with big, pompous-looking houses on either hand, and immediately in front of him was the girl who had stood beside him in the theater. He hesitated an instant, and she seemed to hesitate, too. Her face was turned to one of the houses. Sandy fancied that she was gazing up at one of the windows almost on a level with the street. ”

“ Sandy McGrab faced his audience like a lion.
“If there's any one of ye has a word more to say about a Scotchman, I'd like to meet him!” he challenged.
They only laughed. Sandy McGrab swung on his heel and strode out of the arena. The scared attendants dragged Simeon into safety, and prepared for the next turn. The steam organ grunted the preliminaries to a waltz.
As Sandy McGrab pushed aside the curtains, Madame Sadela met him. There were tears on her long lashes, but her eyes sparkled.
“Mon ami,” she said; “you are a brave man—a ver' brave man! ”

“ Simeon fumbled blindly. Sandy bent forward and snatched something from his outstretched hand as he flew past. There was another moment, during which Sandy carefully investigated the contents of a pocketbook, and then half a dozen torn pieces of paper fluttered down into the ring. Sandy unfastened the windlass, and slowly, still feebly pivoting, the cowboy descended to earth. There he collapsed. But he had strength enough, as Sandy McGrab came off the last rung of the lader, to gasp out an order. Sandy McGrab squared himself for the onslaught. The giant led the van. ”

“ There, hanging in all the glory of real oak frame, was a lifelike portrait of the curate.
Sandy McGrab sat down again. He had a dull recollection of the sable lady putting her arm around him, of a faint, delicious perfume of violets, of some one murmuring: “Poor fellow! starving, you know,” of a soft hand on his forehead; then all passed away into a merciful darkness and oblivion.
III.
When Sandy McGrab came back to a knowledge of the world, it was broad daylight. ”

“ It so happened that at the moment when Donald Saunders was laying his own plans for the future of Sandy McGrab, his daughter, himself, and Kirkhumphries generally, the first-named was bidding a fond farewell to a lady on the platform of an Edinburgh station. The fondness was open and quite unabashed; the most ill-natured traveler who stumbled over their utter obliviousness was fain to change a scowl into a grim smile of amusement. ”

“ There was the curate, hanging over the mantelshelf, and the sweet-faced girl whom the curate loved, and their respective hearts in deadly danger of breakage. If Sandy McGrab told the truth, it would be all over with everything. The curate's ideal would be wrecked, and the girl would lose her work, and every one would be miserable. Whereas, if Sandy McGrab held his tongue, no one would ever know. True, the world would lose a great actor and a certain lady a devoted husband, but, he supposed wistfully, both would get over the loss. At this point, Sandy McGrab had a lump in his throat. ”

“ He had also heard of ladies who wore short skirts and bright-colored stockings. They also had been denounced. But Sandy McGrab knew better—he had met one of them. There was a sprig of withered Scotch heather tucked away somewhere in the region of an unsentimental Scotch heart to remind him of her, and for her sake he was not shocked, but only a little grieved. As the jockey turned a final somersault to a final crash from the steam organ, Sandy McGrab detached his plaid, and, crossing the passage, laid it across Madame Sadela's shoulders, so that it covered her from head to foot. ”

“ A great many things that usually take days of long consideration and explanation were passed over. She uttered a low explanation of incredulous relief, and flung herself into his arms. Sandy McGrab kissed her. The chauffeur stared at them both in anxious curiosity. But not for long. Sandy McGrab put Miss Eliot gently to one side. He came across the road and took the uneasy mechanician by the neck and shook him backward and forward as a mastiff shakes a rat. ”

“ He did not answer, but he looked at her, and Mary Eliot turned her attention suddenly to the looking-glass.
“I wish I could help you, Sandy McGrab,” she said dreamily. “Sometimes I build fairy castles, and my favorite one is that I have a theater all of my own and that I send to my manager and say: 'Find me one Sandy McGrab, and let him act Romeo to my Juliet. He's the only man living who can.' And it all comes true—in my dream—and we two are famous together. But it's only a dream. I can't help myself—or any one.” ”

“ Sandy McGrab pulled himself together.
“I'm not,” he said. “I'm a Highlander.”
She laughed.
“A Highland actor!” she said gayly. “Isn't that a possible combination?”
“Play actors are the children of the devil,” he declared, and the spirit of the late McGrab shone in his scornful eyes. ”

“ A quarter of an hour later, Jeannie Saunders, who had kept anxious watch at the window opposite, saw him stride up the street and around by the bridge that leads over the river to Glen Every. Jeannie Saunders drew a little sigh of relief. She had never been outside Kirk Humphries, but her woman's instinct mistrusted brazen hussies who danced in pink stockings, and still more the strong-mindedness of the mankind that condemned them. And Sandy McGrab had not so much as glanced at the white tent pitched in the market place. ”

“ Sandy acknowledged. “Most of us would gang astray in ten years. I'll no say I wouldna mysel'.”
“Aye,” agreed the curate gloomily. He glanced down at the recumbent figure. Sandy McGrab's eyes were closed. He seemed to have fallen asleep again. His tam-o'-shanter had fallen off, and the light from a distant street lamp fell on his disordered shock of brilliant hair. The effect was resplendent, and somehow hid the fact that the rugged, stubborn-looking face beneath was wan, and that the cheek bones stood out with a painful prominence. The curate remembered Samuel Tucker and the damp grass. ”

“ Sandy McGrab entered his flat as an elegant gentleman of fashion. He had tipped his taxi driver with an Anglo-Saxon liberality, and bidden him good night with scarcely the suggestion of a Highland accent. Half an hour later he was seated before his fire in the shabbiest of shabby kilts, talking broad Scotch to a bewildered, but sympathetic English retainer.
“Ye ken, it's guid to be a reel mon again,” said McGrab, rubbing his bare knees with genial contentment. “It's just wonderful what the kilts can do for one. ”

“ He must leave the stage, if he was to marry Jeannie Saunders. So much was clear. He knew Donald Saunders' opinion of play actors; no daughter of his should ever marry such an outcast. For an instant, temptation loomed up at once hideous and beautiful in his path, and then Sandy McGrab turned his back on temptation, castle, and hopes, and went back to Kirkhumphries, stumbling over the stony path because his eyes were too blind with pain to see. ”

“ Sandy McGrab sighed wearily, and tried to find a new place for his aching legs.
“It's Juliet I'm thinking of,” he said.
“You would be,” said the large person, and chuckled. “You young fellows are all for a pretty face, and Mary Eliot's pretty enough; but an old stager like myself wants more than that: He wants Art—Art with a capital A, my boy—and Rolf Derwent is an artist——”
“He's a stick,” said Sandy McGrab. ”

“ At that moment Sandy McGrab offered Miss Eliot the potatoes for the third time in rapid succession.
“You're just grand!” he whispered. “Just grand!”
“And you”—she smiled to herself—“you're the worst waiter in the kingdom, Sandy McGrab. But you look a gentleman, even when you're dressed like one.”
“For Heaven's sake, take these potatoes away!” Hadley burst out, adding, with angry conviction: “The man's drunk!”
Sandy McGrab and the potatoes withdrew. But Mary Eliot felt the Scotsman's presence all through the long and ponderous meal. ”

“ It is wonderful what hope and a good breakfast can do for a man. As Sandy McGrab pulled open the front door, he fancied that the pompous person in the rabbit hutch had already tendered him a humble apology, and that the loveliest woman in the world was holding out her hands in welcome. “So you've come, Sandy McGrab!” ”

“ At intervals, he raised a saluting forefinger to some unresponsive vassal on his newly acquired property, and presently, laying hold of Kirk Humphries' “guardian of souls”—a meek, shabby-coated gentleman, who accepted the English invasion as a chastisement from Heaven, mercifully tempered with bawbees—carried him off in triumph.
Sandy McGrab did not smile, but he happened to catch the eye of Saunders, the rival clothier on the other side of the road, and they looked at each other long and intently. Saunders sauntered across and propped a broad shoulder against the doorway. ”

“ He glanced back at the portrait. “But not one as sweet as you!” he added loyally. Then he, too, dropped into the ever-moving stream and was lost to the angry manager's sight.
It is a long call from Kirkhumphries to London, and most of the way Sandy McGrab had walked on “nothing a mile.” He had not tasted food for forty-eight hours, and this was his first night in the great metropolis. The many lights danced before his eyes; at times the pavement showed an inclination to rise up and hit him on the head. The hundreds of changing faces added to his confusion. ”

“ Sandy McGrab, a young tailor, one day reciting his beloved Shakespeare, in the hills above his native Kirkhumphries, is overheard by a young actress, one of a company of obscure traveling players. She recognizes his genius, and announces herself as a fellow professional, Sandy's denial that he is an actor leads her to think that he is the “laird,” while he takes her for a famous actress who is expected in the neighborhood. When the truth finally comes out, it serves only to deepen their growing love. ”

“ He was going to kill Sandy McGrab—but in a modern way, equally effective and more painful.
He drove then to Mary Eliot's flat. It so chanced that he met her returning from the theater, and, yielding to his urgency, she led him into her softly lighted study. She motioned him to be seated, but he stood up, facing her in a kind of rage and cruel satisfaction.
“I'll come straight to the point, Miss Eliot,” he said. “I understand that you are to marry Mr. McGrab.” ”

“ He snorted unutterable threats. “It's the English ha'e brought Satan amongst us,” he went on, with redoubled fierceness, as a scurrying urchin in bedraggled kilt stumbled over his feet. “Me son Jamie heard tell that Sir John has ordered a foreign play actress—Donna Eleonora Dolamora, she's called—up to Glen Every, and that she's to play act to them——”
“In pink stockings?” queried Sandy, deeply distressed.
“Maybe. But she gets a hundred pounds a night, says Jamie.”
It impressed them both, in spite of themselves. Sandy McGrab glanced cautiously down the street in the direction of the hubbub. ”

“ Saunders' face was wry with disgust.
“Ye maun be very new to Kirkhumphries if ye dinna ken Sandy McGrab,” he said crushingly. “Sandy McGrab had the finest homespun in a' Scotland, and he could throw the caber like no other man alive. He's been awa' these three years, and I'd almost begun to think that nae guid had come o' him. But he says he's come home with a wee bit of a fortune, so I ken he maun hae walked in the ways o' the Lord weel eno'.” He paused, and stared reminiscently into the fire. “I'm the only man who's ever got the better of Sandy McGrab,” he added. ”

“ Sandy McGrab lay back in his chair, and built castles in the glowing embers of the fire. It must be confessed that he forgot all about Antony and Will Shakespeare. He skipped three months of his life, and carried himself and a much-loved lady to a little Highland village, where every one, from the laird downward, turned out to welcome them. He transported the whole party into the familiar kirk, and was actually rehearsing the marriage service when the door opened again.
“If you please, sir,” said James apologetically, “there's a lady to see you. She says she has a message from Miss Eliot. ”

“ At the first meeting between Romeo and Juliet, both actor and actress held them spellbound. Juliet's swift surprise, Romeo's movement of ardent admiration and devotion were magnificently spontaneous. So, too, was Juliet's fortunately unheard exclamation.
“Sandy McGrab!” she whispered. “Sandy McGrab!”
“It's our chance!” he whispered back, and then caught up his own lines with a confidence and a passion that carried the listeners through the scene on a high wave of enthusiasm.
As the curtain fell, the applause was continuous. Edith Wharton and Derwent had left the theater. ”

“ Malcolm McPherson's burly figure filled the passage.
“Sandy,” he said, “you're a traitor, mon.”
“I'm worse,” said Sandy McGrab. “I'm the laird.”
“What the devil——” McPherson began, and laughed sourly. “It's the whisky bottle you've been at.”
“It's no whisky bottle.” Sandy jerked his head at the door behind him. “There's a lady in there,” he said.
“A lady? Muckle I care! There's that Englishman outside, and I canna shoot him. The weakness of the generation is in my blood. Go out, Sandy, mon, and tell him if he sets foot inside my door, I'll——”
“I canna do it,” Sandy interrupted. ”