The Lord of Lone glorying in his earthly paradise, wished to see it enlarged, wished to add one estate to another until he should become the largest land-owner in Scotland, or have his land-hunger appeased. He bought up all the land adjoining Lone, that could be purchased at any price, paying a little cash down, and giving notes for the balance on each purchase. Thus, in the course of three years, Lone was nearly doubled in territorial extent.
But the older creditors became clamorous. Bond, and mortgage holders threatened foreclosure, and the financial affairs of the "mad duke," outwardly and apparently so prosperous, were really very desperate. The family were seriously in danger of expulsion from Lone.
It was at this crisis that the devoted son came to the help of his father—not wisely, as many people thought then—not fortunately, as it turned out. To prevent his father from being compelled to leave Lone, and to protect him from the persecution of creditors, the young Marquis of Arondelle performed an act of self-sacrifice and filial devotion seldom equalled in the world's history. He renounced all his own entailed rights, and sold all his prospective life interest in Lone. His was a young, strong life, good for fifty or sixty years longer. His interest brought a sum large enough to pay off the mortgage on Lone and to settle all others of his father's outstanding debts.
Thus peaceable possession of Lone might have been secured to the family during the natural life of the duke. At the demise of the duke, instead of descending to his son and heir, it would pass into the possession of other parties, with whom it would remain as long the heir should live.
Thus, I say, by the sacrifice of the son the peace of the father might have been secured—for a time. And all might have gone well at Lone but for one unlucky event which finally set the seal on the ruin of the ducal family.
And yet that event was intended as an honor, and considered as an honor.
In a word the Queen, the Prince Consort, and the royal family, were coming to the Highlands. And the Duke of Hereward received an intimation that her majesty would stop on her royal progress and honor Lone with a visit of two days. This was a distinction in no wise to be slighted by any subject under any circumstances, and certainly not by the duke of Hereward.
The Queen's visit would form the crowning glory of Lone. The chambers occupied by majesty would henceforth be holy ground, and would be pointed out with reverence to the stranger in all succeeding generations.
In anticipation of this honor the "mad" Duke of Hereward launched out into his maddest extravagances.
He had but ten days in which to prepare for the royal visit, but he made the best use of his time.