Donalblane of Darien - Cover

Donalblane of Darien

Copyright© 2024 by J. Macdonald Oxley

Chapter 2: Donalblane Carries His Point.

It was one thing for Donalblane to make up his mind to go to Darien, and quite another to carry his resolution into effect.

Alexander Blane was a masterful man, who had no fancy for accepting advice or suggestions from other folk. He much preferred thinking of things himself, and Donalblane knew well enough that for him to make a direct request meant its being turned down both promptly and finally. Strategy was therefore necessary, and, after some deep thought and the casting aside of various schemes, he hit upon one that gave promise of success if judiciously carried out.

Thanks to his natural quickness of mind and his interest in his studies, he had quite won the heart of the dominie who with book and birch ruled his little educational kingdom, and so to wise William Laidlaw he went with his scheme. Now, as it happened, no man in Scotland had been more fired by Paterson’s daring project than this school-teacher of Leith. He was a Scot of the Scots, and the bitterest regret of his life was that a crippled leg, which made active movement impossible, barred his own way to joining the expedition.

Disappointed in that direction, he had done what was perhaps even better—he had invested the entirety of his own savings in the stock, and he had by tongue and pen done all in his power to promote the interest of the enterprise. It was therefore only natural that he should listen to Donalblane’s bashful confidence with a swelling and sympathetic heart.

“Ay! ay! laddie,” he said, regarding the eager, earnest boy with a look of unwonted tenderness, “and so ye wad fain gang tae Darien? I dinna blame ye. Glad wad I be to gang myself, if I were na too auld for sic a far-going. But if I be too old, are ye na too young, Donald?” And he bent a keen look upon him from under his shaggy brows.

Donalblane flushed and moved uneasily on his seat. That was the very argument he most feared. “I am owre young, maybe,” he replied; “but I’m verra strong, and big for my age;” which was true enough, as he looked full two years older than he really was. “And then, ye ken, there’ll no be anither such chance as this to see the world for the rest of my life.”

The dominie smiled shrewdly. That was the usual talk of youth. He knew much better; but somehow the lad’s passion for the adventure took strong hold upon him, and the upshot of their talk together that summer evening was that Donalblane went home joyful of heart because he had enlisted an ally who was pledged to help him in realising his desire.

Mr. Laidlaw was on excellent terms with Mr. Blane, and no excuse therefore was needed for a friendly visit, in the course of which the talk naturally enough came round to the Darien expedition, already in course of being fitted out.

“Hech! but I wad fain be going myself,” said the dominie, heaving a huge sigh of regret, “and if it were na for this halting leg of mine, I’d be putting my name down.”

Mr. Blane indulged in a sympathetic smile. The idea of the limping dominie venturing to face the perils and privations on sea and land that were sure to be encountered touched his sense of humour, but he was too courteous to betray it.

“I’m inclined a bit that way likewise,” he responded, “and were I only twenty instead of sixty, I’d be offering myself to Maister Paterson.”

“Have ye thought o’ sending any one in your stead?” inquired the dominie, as innocently as if no hidden purpose inspired him.

“Ay, I have thought something of it, but I’ve not made up my mind at all,” was the reply.

Having thus secured his opening, the wily dominie, by strategic devices, which did infinite credit to his ingenuity and knowledge of human nature without putting any strain upon his conscience, at last succeeded not only in filling Mr. Blane’s mind with the idea of Donald being sent out in some sense as his representative, but in so doing it that the worthy shipmaster quite supposed he had conceived the notion himself.

Accordingly, a few days later Mr. Blane called Donald into his own room, and began asking him some questions that made the boy’s eyes glitter with hope.

The sagacious dominie, knowing Mr. Blane, had counselled Donald not to let on in any way how eagerly he desired to go to Darien, but to seem simply willing to do whatever he was told. He therefore put a strong curb upon himself, and responded respectfully to what was asked of him.

“Ye’ve got a great liking for the sea, they tell me, lad,” began Mr. Blane, with a keen glance at the bright face and sturdy figure.

“Oh, yes, sir,” answered Donald emphatically.

“And wad ye care to go away altogether on a ship?” asked his uncle.

 
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